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- Herausgeber: FINN Books Edition FireFly
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Young Sam Greven, 23, is a daredevil. As the head of a sprayer gang, he is known in the scene in the Bergheim district near Cologne and, in addition to his graffiti skills, for which he repeatedly gets into trouble with the law, he has a very high level of criminal energy. When he accidentally met 19-year-old Leonie Hammerschmidt in a bar, the two hit it off right away. But Leonie has just as little idea about Sam's dark side as he does about the fact that she comes from a sheltered family and her father is also a city councillor. Sam falls in love with Leonie and wants to hide his darker side from her at all costs. When a friend of Sam's is badly injured during an illegal sprayer operation, Sam begins to run the gauntlet between true feelings and his own recognition... 124 COLORS tells a turbulent, suspenseful story from the sprayer milieu in and around Cologne. A social drama that is almost a thriller.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
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Elias J. Connor
124 Colors
Inhaltsverzeichnis
Dedication
Disclaimer
Chapter 1 - At night at the bridge
Chapter 2 - The sacking
Chapter 3 - The lonely girl
Chapter 4 - The Osteria
Chapter 5 - Train 11
Chapter 6 - Escape to Luxembourg
Chapter 7 - You will never be forgotten
Chapter 8 - The rivals
Chapter 9 - We're running away again
Chapter 10 - The end of the 124th
Chapter 11 - True love
Chapter 12 - Get away from home
Chapter 13 - The competition
Chapter 14 - Far, far away
Chapter 15 - Alone in the distance
Chapter 16 - Sam's new life
Chapter 17 - To hell with you
Chapter 18 - Leonie's visit
Chapter 19 - I won't leave you alone
About the author Elias J. Connor
Impressum
Dedication
For Jana.
My fiancee, friend, confidante.
Thank you for existing. I love you.
Disclaimer
Although the story is partly based on historical facts, any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental. Names and various locations are fictitious. This does not apply to real locations such as Heumarkt, Neumarkt or similar locations in Cologne or Bergheim. However, these real locations are unrelated to the largely fictitious story of the novel.
Chapter 1 - At night at the bridge
The light above the electric lines flickers. It spreads its shimmer almost inconspicuously through the rainy night and gives the whole scenery an almost creepy mood.
At this time – it may be well after 1 a.m. – there is no one left at the old train station in Bergheim. Everything is empty, the streets are quiet. The last night bus is just leaving for the neighboring village, but it looks like the bus driver is the only passenger.
The drizzle is slowly pattering on the face of the young man, who is waiting lonely and alone on the bench by the tracks. Now and then the man wipes the wetness from his cheeks or pushes a strand of his dark hair from his eyes.
The bag the man is carrying is between his legs. It's half open, and if you look closely you can see that there must be several cans inside—apparently tin cans or hairspray or something.
Out of the darkness, two other young men suddenly come down the stairs to the platform. One is believed to be carrying a battery-powered searchlight, and the other is holding a dark ladder.
When they see the man sitting there, they approach him with light, careful steps.
"Hey, dude," says one of them.
The man who has been waiting here on the platform the whole time gets up.
"Man, where are you?" He asks annoyed.
"Don't make such a wave, Sam," says one young man. "Is this place save?"
Sam looks around.
"I've been here for an hour," he says. "It's very quiet, the last bus just left."
"Good," says the other young man.
"What do you have with you?" the third man wants to know from Sam.
"Everything we need," Sam replies. "Including fixing lacquer."
The second young man opens Sam's bag and pulls out some spray cans of paint. He looks at her.
"Great," he says then. "Let's get started right away."
"We don't know when the freight train is coming," says the third man to the other two.
"There are no freight trains here, Gerd," replies the second man. "We should still try to get it done as soon as possible."
"Gerd, you stand guard," Sam organizes the meeting. "Michael, we both go up the ladder."
Michael then takes the ladder and places it in the middle of the train tracks. He drives her all the way up until she reaches the bridge. Meanwhile, Gerd turns on the spotlight and illuminates the scene after making sure that nobody is there.
"Go," he says then. "You can start."
Sam climbs the ladder first. He sprays a dark blue primer with one of the spray cans, while Michael then outlines it with white paint.
Everything has to happen very quickly. They don't have much time, and the result has to be accurate and clearly visible in the light the next morning.
Finally Sam takes the black paint and sprays an inner border into the blue primer. After spraying on the shades, he fills the inner outline with white. Finally, you can see the number 124 on it.
"Looks good," calls Gerd from below. "Now comes. Hurry up. Let's get out of here."
"First take a picture," says Michael to Sam.
When Sam pulls out his cell phone and wants to take a picture of the freshly made work of art, he suddenly sees something to the right of the graffiti that he doesn't want to see.
he yells.
"What?" says Michael.
Then he sees it too.
A graffiti with the symbol of the number 642 is clearly denounced next to the drawing of Sam and his gang.
"Those bastards," Sam yells. "Sons of bitches. This is our territory.”
Sam paints over the rivals' icon with the black spray paint in seconds. He crosses it out so it's still recognizable, because he wants people to know who Sam and his friends are dissing.
Beneath it, Sam spray-painted the words "Our Territory."
Just as Michael is about to climb down the ladder and Sam is about to follow him, they hear the ominous noise, a whooshing noise that gets louder every second.
"Shit," shouts Gerd from below. "Fuck off. The train is coming."
"What kind of train?" asks Michael, puzzled.
Sam is breathing heavily and looking around frantically.
"Shut up, Michael," he exclaims. "Quick, down."
"There's no more time for that," says Michael.
The lights of the approaching train can already be seen as it comes around the bend.
"Up!" shouts Michael and, in a flash, he climbs down from the ladder onto the bridge.
Sam wants to follow him, but he's not fast enough.
"Come on, Sam," shouts Michael. "Go Go go..."
The train is only a few meters away from the ladder. Sam grabs the outer railing of the bridge with both hands when the train hits the ladder and it is then thrown away with full force.
"Shit, dammit," calls Sam, who is holding on to the railing with the last of his strength.
Below him, the train races under the bridge.
Michael stands stunned on the bridge and stretches his arms out to Sam.
“What are you still doing there?” calls Gerd from below, who has meanwhile switched off the spotlight again.
"Get the ladder, you pisser," Sam yells at him. "Quick, I can't hold myself."
"I don't see her," Gerd calls back.
"Man," says Michael then. "The train stops, we have to leave. The cops will be there soon.”
Michael tries to bend over the bridge and stretch both arms out to Sam. Sam tries to pull himself up at the same time.
"Come on dude," screams Michael.
With the last of his strength, Sam manages to grab Michael's hand. Michael slowly pulls him up, and when Sam is high enough, he takes Michael's second hand.
Two seconds later both are completely out of breath on the bridge.
"Boys," calls Gerd from below. "Are you doing good?"
Sam and Michael quickly go to the side stairs and come running down to Gerd.
"Freaky show," says Gerd.
Sam scowls at him.
"Dude, dude," he says. "That fucking train almost got me."
"Let's get things together and then let's go. The cops will be here in a few minutes.”
The three men have just picked up their bags and headlights - they couldn't find the ladder - they can already hear the sirens of the approaching police car.
"Crap," says Gerd.
"Back alley," says Sam. "There in front. Comes."
The men run into a street that branches off to the side of the train station. They run down the street until they come to a block of houses with an open garage. There they hide in the dark.
The siren in the police car then went off. The three men do not see what is happening. They stand against the wall in the garage, breathing heavily, not saying a word.
When they hear that the train will move on after a while, Sam crawls out of the garage and looks around.
"I think the coast is clear," he says.
"Man," says Michael. "You will have found the ladder. Our fingerprints and footprints have to be on it.”
Sam looks questioningly at Michael.
"Oh shit," he says. "If they find me in the database - because of previous convictions..."
"It is not said that they will find the ladder," says Gerd. "And if they do, they don't necessarily have to connect them to the train accident."
Sam sits down on a box in the garage and thinks.
"What do we do now?" Michael ponders.
"We're going home first," Sam says.
He takes his bag and starts to leave.
"Are you sure?" Gerd asks.
"Yeah man," Sam replies. "Who knows if they're not searching the area. Better not for them to find us there.”
The men then walk slowly through the rainy night.
"Now we didn't take a picture," thinks Gerd.
Sam nods.
"We can still do that tomorrow, very inconspicuously," he says.
"Whoa, that was really crazy," says Michael. "Gerd, you could have told us that freight trains run there at night."
Gerd looks at Michael sharply.
"Hello-o," he says. "I told you. i am the watcher I know which seats are safe and when, okay?”
Annoyed, Michael snorts.
When the men arrive at a fork in the road, Michael and Gerd run in one direction, Sam in the other.
The 124th
A well-known sprayer gang in the Cologne area, whose boss is Sam. Even though she is based in Bergheim, her level of fame goes far beyond the city limits west of Cologne. Even in the far east of Cologne, people still know the 124. Sam is undoubtedly proud of it, but as we saw today, the gang is also repeatedly exposed to dangerous situations.
Spraying graffiti on someone else's property is illegal. But that's exactly where Sam sees the challenge of this hobby. At the age of 23, he has been with the gang for 2 years and has been their boss since this year after his predecessor was arrested.
124 is the last three digits of the zip code for the borough where Sam's Gang is located. This number is also very well known in sprayer circles, and the numbers are always used as a signature for graffiti, so that you also know which gang sprayed them.
When Sam gets home – he has a small apartment in a block of flats – he lies down on the bed and takes a deep breath. Lost in thought, he looks out the window against which the rain is slowly pattering.
If he could earn real money with his art, he thinks to himself. Yes, some illegal sprayers have already been spotted by the public and are given permits to spray buildings, walls or trains. You even make money with it if you can do it.
Sam often dreams of making it. How he would like to soar, would want to spray legally. But the more he thinks about it, he realizes that the kick must be gone somehow. And just such situations like tonight give the hobby the excitement.
This dichotomy repeated itself so often in Sam's head. Especially after nights like today.
When he doesn't want to think anymore, Sam finally turns on the TV and watches some nonsense. At around 5 a.m. he finally has to fall asleep - still completely exhausted from today's nightly graffiti action.
Chapter 2 - The sacking
The alarm wakes him up. The buzzing reverberates through the room, relentlessly, until Sam stands in his bed and turns off the alarm clock.
Grumpy, Sam shuffles into his bathroom. Still half asleep, he crawls into the shower in hopes of waking him up a little.
It doesn't work. Sam only slept two hours last night, if that, and now he has to get ready for his daily job at the metal factory. He has already been absent there for a week, and his sick leave expired yesterday. Whether he likes it or not, he has to go back today.
Or he goes to the doctor.
Sitting in the waiting room for two hours, waiting for his turn and then explaining to the doctor why he was sick again. No, he didn't want to do that today. Then it would be better to work eight hours, drink lots of coffee during the breaks and simply go to bed and sleep after work, he thinks to himself.
When he arrives at work, he first shuffles into the changing room and puts on his gray overalls. However, instead of going straight to his place on the assembly line, Sam first runs to the canteen and quickly gets a coffee. He then goes to the smoking area and lights a cigarette.
"Are you there too?" He hears the spiteful voice of a colleague whom Sam doesn't particularly appreciate.
"Shut up, Freddy," Sam replies.
"Was the train late again?" Freddy wants to know.
"Is none of your business."
"Sam," Freddy says. "You'll get in a lot of trouble if you keep being late. First you're missing a whole week, then you'll be late today too. What are you doing at night?”
Sam gets his head close to Freddy's head and whispers in his sonorous voice, "I told you, Freddy. It is none of your business."
"Whatever," Freddy says after flinching. “I have already prepared a hundred ball bearings. All you have to do is use them.”
Sam grins at Freddy.
"Thank you," he says. "If I feel like it later, maybe I'll do it." Sam exhales annoyed. "Maybe," he repeats.
Freddy wants to say something to Sam, but at that moment an older man comes around the corner and approaches Sam.
"Shit," Sam whispers. "The boss."
The older man glares at Sam while Freddy quickly thins out and heads into the hall.
"Mr. Greven," begins the man. “They should have been in their place on the assembly line for half an hour. What's up?"
"The train," Sam replies curtly. You can see how annoyed he is and he hopes that this possibly insignificant annoyance will remain.
"Come into my office," the older man says to Sam.
"But Mister Strickland, I was about to go straight to my place of work," says Sam, playing sheepishly.
"You can save yourself that," says Strickland. “We have sent you warnings and reminder letters several times. It's too late for you now. You can pick up your papers and go immediately.”
"Let's talk about that again," Sam tries to persuade Strickland.
"The decision was already made last week," he only replies. "Rejoice. You are now a free man. A job-free man.”
Sam reluctantly follows Mr. Strickland to his office. He accepts his papers and leaves the company shortly thereafter. On his way across the yard he looks again into the window where his former workplace is. Freddy is standing there at the machine. When he sees Sam, he laughs maliciously.
Sam would love to run into the company and give Freddy a good headbutt. But he's too upset for that. Something stupid would happen, they would call the police and he'd be in trouble now that he's out of a job. He doesn't want to do the people here in the company that favor.
no more job
Sam is walking slowly through the area here in the industrial area of Bergheim, on this slightly rainy autumn morning.
Sam rummages in his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and counts the money – he still has two twenties and two or three euros of small change with him. And it's only the middle of the month.
Damn it, he thinks to himself. He hardly has any money either.
Sam sits down on a bench by the wayside. He considered. What should he do now? Actually, he doesn't want to have anything to do with it anymore, but for this month it's probably necessary again, he thinks to himself. Actually, Sam only wants to concentrate on his hobby as a sprayer and renounce the other criminal things in which he is repeatedly involved. But this month it should probably be again.
He pulls out his cell phone and calls an old colleague he knows from before.
"Rasmus," he finally says into the phone. "I need 100 grams of green. You'll get the money this afternoon when I've sold it."
The voice on the other end of the phone says something unintelligible into the phone.
"I'll be at the train station in an hour," says Sam. “I'm on time and I'll deliver the money back to you right there in two hours. Please be punctual as well.”
Without waiting for his old friend's reply, Sam hangs up. Then he goes to the station in Bergheim and waits there on a bench by the platforms. As he waits, he sees the brightly colored graffiti on the bridge that he and his gang sprayed there the night before.
"Looks sensational," he comments on his work. Then he pulls out his cell phone and snaps a photo of the artwork he created yesterday.
A few minutes later, Sam is bumped on the shoulder.
"Hey," a strange man greets him, about Sam's age.
"Don't say my name," Sam says as the man sits down next to him. "Have you got anything?"
The man pulls out a thick package wrapped in aluminum foil. Sam then stows it in his pocket.
"That's 100 grams," says the strange man. “In two hours I want to see 500 euros for it. Exactly here."
"Sure," Sam says. "I have buyers. It won't be long before I have the cash, Rasmus."
"Hey," Rasmus complains. "And you tell me not to say your name in public."
"Shut up," Sam says.
He then points to the glowing graffiti on the bridge.
"What do you think of that?" he says to Rasmus.
“That seems new,” he recognizes. "Who did it?"
Sam laughs.
"As if I'd tell you that," he replies. "But it looks good, doesn't it? The 642 can pack up.”
Sam's old friend looks at him in surprise.
"What's the 642?" he wants to know.
Sam laughs again.
"Good," he says simply. “The 124 are and will remain unbeatable. At least as long as I'm their boss."
Rasmus examines the graffiti and then turns back to Sam.
"You did that," he states.
"Who knows, who knows," Sam says mysteriously. "Well, I have to go."
"Here in two hours," Rasmus reminds him of the arrangement. "And be on time."
Without another word, Sam walks down the platform, then down the stairs to the street and disappears into the fog that surrounds the scenery here at the station.
It's getting almost dark, at least that's what it looks like. It's only around 3 p.m. in the afternoon. Here at Cologne's Neumarkt there isn't that much going on at this time. Some people are running frantically across the square, and they are sitting on the corner of the subway – the junkies.
Cologne's Neumarkt is a well-known trading center for drugs. "Do you have green? do you want white Do you need brown?” - as a dealer, you can already recognize your customers.
Sam is standing here and has already packed the weed into several individual packets in his bag. He can now sell them here for 10 euros a gram. He is confident that he will be able to sell the entire hundred grams within two hours.
As soon as Sam is there, the first customer speaks to him.
How long has Sam been gone? Actually, he has sworn off the drug business since last year. He wanted to focus more on spraying. His fame as a graffiti artist precedes him in the scene, and although it is illegal to spray paint someone else's property, the graffiti scene does not like it when someone deals drugs or has other serious crimes on their books. Sprayers admire each other as artists, and the better a graffiti is, the higher the status of the artist or the gang they represent.
"Hey," the young man says to Sam. "Got green?"
Sam looks at him. He's almost a kid, maybe 17 or just 18 years old. For a moment, Sam thinks about how this boy can throw his life away on drugs at such an early age.
"You don't look like you have any money," Sam says.
"How much do you have? Hundred?” the boy asks, unimpressed. "I'll take everything and give you 800 euros for it."
Sam laughs.
"You want 800 euros?" He looks at the boy. "If I sell it individually, I get a thousand euros," says Sam.
"But you need hours for it," says the boy. “They prefer white here. Believe me, you have a hard time getting rid of this stuff. And depending on how much you got it for, there's still plenty going on for you if you sell it to me."
"And what do you do with 100 grams of green?" Sam wants to know.
The boy grins.
"I want to throw a party," he says wryly.
Sam takes out the bag and shows it to the boy.
"Show me your money," Sam says sternly.
The boy hands Sam an envelope. Sam counts quickly and sees that it's 800 euros to the point. He then gives the boy the bag with the individual packets and pocketed the money. The boy then walks away without another word.
Calculated wrong. Now Sam has less money than he wanted. If he gives the colleague back the 500, he only has 300 left, and that may be tight for this month, he thinks to himself.
Suddenly Sam is pulled aside. Two police officers hold him. Sam startles.
"Hey," he says.
"ID papers, please," says one of the police officers.
Sam tries to tear himself away, but he can't. Reluctantly, he gives the officer his ID.
"Where are you from and where are you going?" asks the officer.
Sam looks at him with questioning eyes.
Maybe they didn't notice. Maybe they're looking for someone else entirely, he thinks to himself. And if it's because of the graffiti - he's here in Cologne and not in Bergheim - word of the train accident shouldn't have gotten around yet.
