by Casey, Ryan
Aoife frowned. “What?”
“Before I pushed him down the stairs. I looked him in the eyes after he’d caught me stealing from Mum’s old jewellery box. Well, borrowing. And he told me he was going to tell the police and the rest of our family everything. The diamond necklace Mum inherited. I needed some cash. And she never looked at it anyway. She wouldn’t want me suffering or struggling.”
“I don’t… I don’t understand. Dad… Dad died of a heart attack. He—”
“He caught me,” Seth said. “He threatened to tell people. To tell the police. He got to the top of the stairs, and… well. Let’s just say he regretted it.”
He saw his sister’s eyes widen. Saw the tears well up. Saw the panic and the confusion spread across her face.
“You—you killed Dad?”
“I killed Dad,” Seth said. “I didn’t want to tell you because I guess you’ve always idolised him, haven’t you? And I really, really didn’t want to cause any sour grapes between us. But then you rang the police on me. You stopped me from punishing Max three years ago, fully. And you never once visited me. You left me to rot in there. You didn’t even tell me Auntie Carol had died. I had to find out from the chaplain. You abandoned me. And then I find you with him of all people. How poetic. How… disgusting.”
He saw his sister shaking her head. Crying. “You killed him.” She was clearly fixated on this point. “You—you killed Dad. You monster. You fucking animal. You murderous—”
He smacked her across the face then, shutting her up.
But it didn’t work.
She kicked out. Shook. Tried to break free, even though she didn’t have a chance.
And all Seth did was stand there and watch her have her hysterics, have her little tantrum.
“That’s it,” he said. “Get it all out. Get all the whinging and moaning out.”
“I’ll kill you.”
Seth laughed. “You what?”
“I said I’ll… I’ll kill you.”
“A night without power, and that’s what you’ve become? You really expect me to believe that? Besides. You wouldn’t stand a chance even if you wanted to. Not tied up like this.”
He looked at his sister, and he saw her like he used to see the flies he pulled wings off.
The spiders he’d pluck legs from.
And then he walked to the back of the cabin, and he grabbed a machete.
“No, you aren’t killing me,” he said. “But I can’t make the same promise to you.”
He walked right over to Aoife.
Machete in hand.
Heart racing.
Shaking with adrenaline.
And was that an erection he felt?
It’d been so long.
So, so long.
“Any last words?” he said. “Because you like to speak, don’t you? To the police. To Max. To so, so many.”
She spat at him.
“Rot in hell, you piece of shit.”
He wiped the thick green blob of phlegm from his shirt.
And then he shook his head.
“If that’s all.”
And then he reached for her mouth.
Yanked her tongue out.
Placed his machete against it as she shook her head, tried to bite his fingers, shouted out.
And Seth stood over her, and he smiled.
“Time to put an end to your speaking, sis.”
He lifted the machete.
Aoife screamed.
Chapter Forty-Six
Max walked through the woods by his house, Rex by his side, and followed Seth and Aoife’s trails.
It was an icy cold morning. Really bright, really sunny. He always loved getting up early when he was off work, wandering in the woods, disappearing into nature. He really felt at home in nature more than anything, especially when he was totally alone.
Weirdly, it made him feel more connected with the world around him. Like that’s how he got his sense of connection. That’s where he derived it from. From the world, not from other people.
But that was starting to take on a different meaning now.
Especially now he was searching for Aoife.
He followed the footsteps on the ground. He was good at tracking. An old army trick he’d learned back in the day. But this wasn’t difficult to follow. Seth clearly wasn’t clever or forward-thinking enough to cover his tracks right now.
Especially in the heat of the moment.
But Max worried. Worried what Seth might’ve done to Aoife.
Even though his feelings on Aoife were understandably mixed.
He walked on, gritting his teeth, limping as his side ached with pain, not as quick as he could usually move. Aoife had let him down. She could’ve called the police earlier. She could’ve given the authorities a heads up before Seth did anything. Before he killed Kathryn. David.
But then he figured he could’ve come home earlier when Kathryn didn’t text him that day, too.
He figured he could’ve acted faster and maybe saved Little David’s life.
There were so many variables. But at the end of the day… he truly believed Aoife regretted not acting sooner. He knew regret far too well.
And her brother was a psychopathic fucker who was going to regret the day he ever crossed Max. Regret the day he ever turned up in his life again.
And regret the day he dragged his sister off into the wilderness.
He gripped onto his hunting rifle. It felt alien. Like he was back in the military. The adjustment to a life where he was carrying a hunting rifle around in public… it was going to be hard to adapt to. Hard to adjust to.
But then it seemed like the power still hadn’t returned. So it wasn’t going to be long before the brittle legs society was propped up on collapsed once and for all.
He took a few further steps into the woods when he noticed something and stopped.
There were footprints right below him. The same footprints he’d followed for quite some time now.
Only there was something else beside those footprints.
Something that sent a shiver up Max’s spine.
Something that looked like blood.
Rex whimpered. Panted. Looked ahead.
And Max looked down the slope and ahead into the distance, too.
“I know, lad,” he said. “I know. But we’ve just gotta keep on going. I’m sure she’ll be okay. I’m…”
That’s when Max heard something that sent a shiver up his spine.
Right down the hill, he heard a scream.
Aoife’s scream.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Seth went to press the blade down into Aoife’s tongue when something caught his eye.
It was outside the window of the dark cabin he was in. A glimpse of movement up the hills.
Aoife let out this pitiful scream that reminded him of when they were kids, and when he used to taunt her and tease her and try to toughen her the hell up, and it sent a shiver down his spine.
But then he turned around, her tongue still between his fingers, and he looked outside.
That’s when he saw him.
Limping down the slope.
Limping towards the cabin.
That dog by his side.
And he felt torn. A combination of emotions. Because, on the one hand, he was infuriated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Max wasn’t supposed to be alive still. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to die alone.
But on the other hand…
He couldn’t help admiring him.
Admiring him for dragging himself out of the pit Seth had left him in.
That showed character.
That showed strength.
And Seth kind of liked that.
He watched him limp towards the cabin, and he smiled.
He turned around to Aoife.
Saw her staring out the window, too. Tears staining her cheeks. But a look of defiance on her face.
A look he knew he needed to wipe away
.
He reached into his pocket. Grabbed the gag he’d used earlier. And as Aoife kicked and shook and struggled, he tied that gag around her mouth. Tight.
And then he put a hand on her shoulder.
Looked into her eyes and smiled.
“Don’t worry,” Seth said. “You’ll be just fine here.”
And then, before Max and the dog could make it here, he turned around from Aoife, stepped out of the cabin.
He saw the old petrol canisters by the cabin, and he smiled.
He knew exactly what he had to do.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Max heard the scream, and he knew he couldn’t hesitate.
It was Aoife. She was up ahead somewhere, right in the distance.
And it sounded like she was suffering.
It sounded like she was in pain.
In danger.
Or worse.
He gritted his teeth, and he heard Rex growl beside him. Let out a little bark.
And he knew he couldn’t delay in any way.
He ran. Ran as fast as his weak, stabbed body would allow. It ached. Sent crippling, shooting pains right through his body.
And he knew he was being reckless. He knew he should be careful. He knew he should slow down. Not rush a thing.
Because he was going to end up hurting himself.
But hearing that scream. It created a sense of urgency in him. A sense that he needed to do something. He needed to act. Fast.
So he ran down the slope, through the trees.
And that’s when he saw it.
Up ahead. A cabin. A cabin he’d seen many times. Even sheltered in there once when he was out and got caught in a storm.
Wasn’t nice in there. Wasn’t ideal at all. Grimy. Dusty. Not the sort of place you wanted to get holed up in.
But looking down the slope, looking at this cabin, and looking at the footsteps and the specks of blood leading right down towards it… Max knew immediately this was exactly where he had to go.
“Come on, lad,” he said.
He limped down the slope as quickly as he could. He hadn’t heard another scream, and that worried him.
Because if Aoife only screamed once, what did that mean?
What had happened?
He walked down the slope, and he felt like he was heading towards David’s room again, three years ago. He felt like he was going to open that cabin door and find Seth standing there, a blade to Aoife’s throat.
Or find Aoife sitting there in a heap, blood spilling out of her stomach, just like Kathryn.
He thought of the guilt he’d felt back then. He thought of the guilt he’d feel if that happened again.
He thought about it all.
And then he thought about the vision of Kathryn he’d had when he’d passed out on his living room floor.
The way she’d looked at him.
The things she’d said to him.
Finish what you know you have to finish. We’re not going anywhere.
He remembered these words, and he felt a sudden weight lift from his shoulders.
A sudden assurance about what he had to do.
He tightened his fists.
“I’m coming,” he said.
And then he staggered down the slope, right towards the cabin.
As he got to the cabin, he couldn’t see anyone in there. And the door. It looked ajar.
He suddenly noticed something.
Rex.
Rex wasn’t beside him.
Rex was right behind him. Looking around, tilting his head either side.
“Rex?” Max said.
But Rex was preoccupied. Something was holding his attention.
“Rex,” Max said. “Come on.”
Rex looked around at him, the cold wind blowing against the trees. Everything so quiet. So silent. Too silent.
He turned around the cabin.
Stepped up the rickety wooden steps, which were rotting away.
Reached the door.
And for a moment, he froze.
Do you want to go in there?
Do you really want to go in there?
He took a deep breath.
Swallowed a lump in his throat.
And then he pushed the door open.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust to what he was looking at.
But when he saw, he understood in an instant.
Aoife was sitting on the opposite side of the cabin.
She was bound.
Gagged.
And she was shaking her head.
Staring at Max with wide, tearful eyes and shaking her head.
“Come on,” Max said. “Let’s… let’s get you…”
First, he noticed the strong stench of petrol, and he knew something was wrong.
And then he heard the footsteps creaking behind him.
He heard it before he saw him.
He heard the door creaking shut.
He spun around.
Saw Seth at the window.
Smile on his face.
And a lighter in his hand.
“Good luck getting out of this one,” he said.
And then he threw a match inside the cabin, and the flames erupted.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Max felt the flames igniting right away, and he knew he was in deep shit.
The first thing he did was launch himself towards the door. The door that Seth had just slammed shut. He bashed his side against it, which hurt, especially hurting the right side, which was stabbed, and hurt like mad.
But he kept on going and going because he couldn’t just accept he was burning in here.
He couldn’t let himself Aoife and Rex die in here.
Especially not at the hands of Seth.
But the more he banged against it, the more he realised there was no hope.
There was no getting out of that door.
Whatever Seth had put in front of it had stopped it from moving at all.
He looked around. Saw Aoife still sitting there, eyes wide, gagged, and cuffed. Saw Rex backing away from the growing flames, kicking at the broken wooden floor, barking. Saw smoke rising right away. And he knew he didn’t have any time to mess around. Not now.
He ran over to Aoife, past the flames, which were already hot. He pulled the gag off her, and she coughed, spluttered.
“I thought you were dead,” she said.
“I’m here.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about—”
“We can speak about that when we get out of here.”
He checked the ties on her wrists, her ankles. Pulled against them. But they were tight. Ridiculously tight.
“I need to find something to cut these with.”
He looked around the room, looked for something he could use.
And then it came to him.
The knife.
The hunting knife. Becker BK2. Favourite kind of knife and one he treasured, even though owning knives wasn’t exactly legal over here.
He pulled it out of his pocket with his shaking hand.
Sliced away the ties, one by one.
And then when Aoife went to stand, the moment she went to stand, Max heard something behind.
The flames. They were breaking the damp wood already.
The route towards the door was shrinking by the second.
“We don’t have much time here,” Max said. “Come on.”
He ran over to the other side of the room, past the flames.
But Rex didn’t join them.
He stayed by the side of the chair where Aoife was tied, and he growled.
“Rex,” Max said. “Come on.”
But Rex stayed put.
Max gritted his teeth. “I’m not leaving you behind, goddammit.”
He ran past the flames again, which were growing.
He tried to push Rex along, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I can’t… I can’t make him,” Max said.
“Rex, come on,” Aoife said.
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But Rex didn’t move.
And Max found history repeating itself again.
He knew how this went down.
He knew what happened next.
But then he found himself standing against that thought.
He found himself resisting.
“No,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”
He crouched down. It was already really smoky in here. So smoky he was coughing, which just hurt his stabbed side even more.
He put a hand on Rex’s back. Rex, who panted away, tongue dangling out from between his teeth.
“Come on, lad,” Max said. “It’s okay. I know you’ve been through some stuff. But you can trust me. You can… you can do this.”
He knew his words were falling on deaf ears. Rex was a dog, after all.
And he could see the fear in Rex’s eyes. The way his ears went back. The way his docked little tail stayed plastered to his back end.
He was about to give up and walk away when Rex ran along to Aoife’s side.
“Rex,” she said, smiling. “Good boy. Good boy.”
Max ran along with her. He went to run through the fire when he stopped.
Because it was already too late.
The flames were too big.
There was no way he was getting through them unscathed.
He looked over at Aoife.
Aoife looked back at him.
That knowing recognition in her eyes.
“Max?”
Max opened his mouth. And as he stood there, as he stared, he saw that Aoife was still stuck. He saw that Rex was still stuck. He saw the pair of them were still trapped and that he couldn’t let them die like this.
Because he recognised exactly why he’d come back now.
When he’d stood at that door and chosen which door to go through, he knew exactly what Kathryn meant when she said his work wasn’t done.
“Max, quick,” Aoife said. “You can make it. You can still make it.”
But Max took a deep breath.
And sincerely, honestly, he smiled.
“You need to go. And you need to go back to my cabin. You’ll find everything you need there. The rest… you’ll figure it out along the way. Because you’re smart.”
Aoife shook her head. “Max? No. Don’t give up. Don’t—”
“Go,” Max said. “You did everything you could for me. And I owe you… I owe you a thank you. For making me realise.”