“She wasn’t supposed to—”
“Everything is okay. You did well. They attacked me and threatened you. She wasn’t a good person. You did what you had to do.”
“They just wanted—”
“Our bags. I know. As I said, she wasn’t a good person.”
“But you—” Tom stared blankly at her. “You would do the same for us…for me.”
Chris shrugged. “I didn’t say I was a good person, Tom. I said I’d keep us safe. There’s a difference.” She turned and pointed at the unconscious man lying on the ground. Waiting for Tom to meet her eyes, she added, “It’s time to finish the job so they can never hurt us again.”
She offered the cricket bat to him.
Tom’s eyes widened, and he jumped back, shaking his head. He waved his hands as if saying no, no, no, and his eyes filled with tears. “I’m not killing him. You can’t make me.”
“They hit me over the head with a cricket bat. That could have killed me.”
“I know,” Tom said, “but I’m not—”
“You must.”
She clenched her teeth. Why couldn’t he understand that in this new world he had to learn how to be ruthless? He could no longer be kind and understanding. In this new world, he had to protect himself. Kill when necessary.
Or he—they—wouldn’t survive long.
“He’s out cold,” Tom said. “We don’t have to do this. We can walk away. He’s tied up, and he doesn’t know where we’re going.”
“What happens when we meet him again? We just drowned his friend. Perhaps she was his wife. If we leave him here, what do you think he’ll do when he wakes up? He’ll track us down and kill us both. Don’t you see we have no choice?”
“I talked them down, Mum. I kept them from hurting me.” He shrugged. “I get why you think this is the right thing to do, Mum. I really do. But I’m not going to do it. And that’s my decision to make.” He stared at the water. “I’m already to blame for—”
“No. You’re not to blame for her death. You were defending yourself against an attacker, and she fell into the river. You tried to pull her out. Her death isn’t on you, but you need to learn. Don’t disappoint me, Tom.” She offered him the bat a second time.
Tom defiantly crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Anger crept through her, and she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the bat against her side. Why couldn’t Tom understand?
“One day, it’ll be either you or them, and if you haven’t learned how to kill, your attackers will use your hesitation, and they’ll be quicker. And there will be nothing I can do to help you.”
“You’re probably right,” Tom said with a small nod. “And I’m sure that’ll happen at some point. And it’ll be on me. But for now, I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want us to leave and go to James’. Please?”
Anger filled her to the brim at the sight of his innocent eyes. He held her gaze, chin raised, and she took a deep breath, willing it to dissolve, but instead it threatened to consume her.
“Fine.” Chris gritted her teeth, reached for the cricket bat and let the anger explode in her chest. Without hesitation, she smashed the unconscious man over the head.
His skull cracked.
Again.
Blood splattered over her hands.
And again.
Bits of brain rained onto the towpath.
And again.
The anger oozed from her like air from a punctured tyre and finally she stopped and let go of the bat. It clattered to the ground.
Chris wiped her face, smearing blood across her cheeks like warrior paint.
“You need to grow up, Tom,” she said through clenched teeth. “And you need to grow up now.”
Dizziness overcame her, all the pain of the attack hitting her now the adrenaline was gone. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and assessed their situation. They were still over an hour away from the farm. Over an hour away from safety.
She could barely speak without slurring her words, and she needed to rest.
“I need to sleep for a few hours,” she mumbled. “My head…” She stumbled, gripped Tom’s arms. “Help me to that bench over there.”
They stumbled away from the dead man.
On the horizon, a bright orange streak announced the rising sun.
Slumping onto the bench, she waited for Tom to carry over their bags. “You need to help me. Take your torch and shine it into my eyes. Turn it on and off.”
He meekly did as he was told. Tears stung her eyes as the bright light hit them. Her head pounded.
“Do my pupils shrink and widen?”
Tom nodded.
“Let the light wander from one side to the other, and I’ll try and follow the light with my eyes without moving my head.”
He aimed the torch at her, moving it slowly.
“Are my eyes following the light?”
“Yes.”
Relieved, Chris closed her eyes, giving in to exhaustion.
She didn’t feel like she’d slept a wink when she woke. She rubbed her eyes groggily, yawned.
The sun had come up. The ground radiated heat. The scents of the river mingling with the smell of baking tarmac reminded Chris of her childhood.
Tom sat next to her, his hand resting on her wrist. It wasn’t a gentle touch—he wasn’t holding her hand. He was checking her pulse. Making sure she wasn’t dying. He sat as far away as possible from her without falling off the bench, as if he didn’t want to be near her.
As if she repulsed him.
She met his hard stare. The headache was easing, but fog had filled her brain, slowing down her thoughts. She didn’t understand why Tom was angry with her instead of the strangers.
She had protected him. Against Mike. Against John. Against Sarah. Against Anna.
Against these strangers.
Everything she’d done, she’d done to keep him safe.
And Tom looked at her as if she was the monster.
“Why are you so upset?” she asked, keeping her tone neutral.
His eyes narrowed. “You—” He waved his hands through the air, then threw them up in frustration. “You didn’t have to kill him, and if you don’t get that—” Tom jumped to his feet and grabbed his bag. “We should really get going before someone else turns up that you have to kill.”
You didn’t have to kill him.
Oh, how wrong he was. She had to do it.
And she’d do it again.
And again.
5
Anna raced to the bedroom and burst through the door, her heart pounding.
Sarah was standing next to Anna’s old bed, holding Nellie’s hand, two fingers placed against her wrist, her lips moving as she silently counted the seconds.
Anna aimed her torch at Nellie’s face—her cheeks were flushed and her skin was a healthy pink. Had the woman really fainted? Or was she merely pretending?
What was going on here?
Seemingly satisfied, Sarah let go of Nellie’s hand. It dropped and limply thudded against the mattress.
Her heart in her throat, Anna tried to catch her breath before speaking. “Sarah.” Her voice cracked, and a tickle in her throat made her cough.
“Her heartbeat is a bit faster than normal,” Sarah said. “Did you find a towel and water?”
“Sarah!”
Finally, her sister looked up and acknowledged Anna’s dishevelled appearance with a concerned frown. “What happened?”
Anna waved the box of FlexPens at her. “She lied about the insulin. Dad hasn’t run out.”
“What? But why—never mind.” She rushed past Anna, grabbing the box and headed into the master bedroom.
Anna followed her. “Do you know how much insulin he needs?”
“No. But some has to be better than none.” Sarah ripped the box open and removed a pen. “I helped him with this after Mum died. Did you know that she used to do his injections for him?”
“Didn’t he have an insuli
n pump to help with that?”
Sarah nodded. “For a while, but he didn’t like that either. He hates needles. Hated doing it himself. He always looked away when I did it. Sometimes he got angry and argued I’d hurt him.”
Anna felt a pang of sadness at her sister’s words. It was easy to forget that Anna hadn’t been the only one who’d suffered at the hands of their father. “Isn’t it dangerous if you get the dose wrong? Does he have a prescription with instructions somewhere?”
“It’s more dangerous to leave him in this state.”
“Will he…will he wake up?”
“I don’t know.”
Sarah folded back the duvet and lifted Frank’s shirt—
“Wait!” Anna opened the door to the en-suite bathroom. “Let me see if I can find the prescription.”
“I’m just giving him a low dose. I know what I’m doing, Anna.” She jabbed his belly with a swift, experienced move of her hand.
Anna scowled. “Now what?”
“Now we wait.”
Oreo whined, sniffing the mattress where Sarah had folded back the duvet. He gave Frank’s arm a lick, then sat down.
Anna scratched behind his ear, tapping her foot against the rug. She needed something to do. Her father’s presence made her nervous and had activated her fight or flight response. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she imagined him waking up, lifting his head and shouting at her.
You don’t seem to have a lot of sense.
“Is it possible Dad hid them?” Sarah asked.
Hopefully I can change that before it’s too late.
Anna saw Sarah’s lips moving but all she could hear were her father’s words. “Come again?”
“The FlexPens. Is it possible Dad hid them? And Nellie didn’t know? And then once he was unwell, he couldn’t tell her?”
“Why would he hide his insulin?”
“You know he’s always been paranoid when it comes to burglaries in the area.”
“Because he was worried they’d steal Mum’s jewellery, not his insulin. Something’s not right here.” Anna pursed her lips and headed back into her old bedroom. She patted Nellie’s pockets, looking for a wallet or a phone and muttered, “I reckon Nellie hid them and told him he’d run out, then waited for him to slip into a coma.”
“What are you doing?” Sarah called from the other room.
“Looking for a wallet. A driving licence. Something that’ll tell us who she really is.” Anna checked the bedside table, then continued her search in the hallway.
A handbag lay open on the small table by the front door. Anna aimed her torch at the contents: wallet, keys, planner, make-up, hand cream. She fished out the wallet and opened it, sliding out the driving licence. Raising her voice so Sarah would hear her she said, “She wasn’t lying about her name. Does Nellie Walker ring a bell?”
“No.”
“Why are you here Nellie?” Anna muttered under her breath.
“I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve met her before,” Sarah called from the master bedroom. Then, “Quick! Anna! He’s waking up.”
Anna spun, then froze. Her father was waking up. A lump formed in her throat, and she almost cried out in sudden fear. Biting down on her knuckles, she took slow breaths.
“Anna?”
Every instinct Anna possessed was telling her to leave. Run away before the monster got up, discovered them in its lair and breathed fire. She closed her eyes and pushed the panic back down.
Check on him. Make sure he’s all right. Move on.
She could do that.
Entering the bedroom, she asked softly, “Can I do anything to help?”
“His glucose monitor should be here somewhere.”
Anna avoided looking at her father as she rummaged first through the bedside table, then the wardrobe.
Frank moaned. With her heart in her throat, Anna checked his jackets and trousers until she found the device in a bathrobe. She inserted the test strip and shook her head. “It’s not working. What now?”
“We give him insulin every hour or so until he’s fully conscious. If he starts to feel faint, we give him something to eat.” Sarah paced the rug in front of the bed, paused and rubbed her neck, turning her head from side to side. “Uncontrolled diabetes leads to increased thirst, right?”
“I think so?”
Sarah rotated her shoulders and the resulting pop made Anna wince.
“I thought it was one of the first symptoms. Drinking a lot. And peeing a lot. Something about the body trying to flush out the extra sugar.”
“And?”
“His lips are brittle,” Sarah said. “He’s dehydrated. He needs fluids. He needs an IV.”
Anna nodded. “But we don’t—”
“No. We don’t. But we need to get fluids into him somehow. Get bottled water and a straw.”
Frank stirred, his exposed arm twitching. His eyelids fluttered, and Anna quickly looked away again. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she thought about how angry he’d be once he was fully awake. He would blame them for everything. For not checking in on him earlier. For letting this happen.
“Anna!”
She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“I need you to focus,” Sarah said. “Find water and a straw.” Her voice softened. “He won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Anna rushed back into the kitchen, glad to leave his bedroom, and searched through the cupboards and drawers until she found a dusty old packet of straws. She grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and returned to the bedroom.
Nellie suddenly stood in the doorway like a ghost, blocking Anna’s path, her bathrobe flowing behind her as she walked towards Frank’s bed. Her hands were clasped in front of her stomach, her thumbnails digging into her palms.
Anna had almost forgotten about her.
“Why are you really here?” Sarah raised her voice, holding up the FlexPen. “And don’t you dare lie to me again. We found these in the kitchen.”
“In the kitchen?” Nellie’s voice shook, and she wrung her hands.
Anna rolled her eyes and pushed past her, joining Sarah on the other side of the bed.
“I didn’t know…I swear.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Sarah snapped. “Why are you really here?”
Nellie squared her jaw, but her bottom lip was quivering. Her eyes betrayed real fear. She opened her mouth, then closed it again as her gaze flickered from Anna to Sarah, then back to Anna.
Oreo growled, but before Anna could react, the door to the garage opened and heavy steps echoed through the hallway.
“Gus?” Nellie called out. “We have visitors. Frank’s daughters are here.”
Anna shot her a sharp look.
“It’s only Gus, my brother.” Nellie smoothed her dishevelled hair with her hands as she moved to the door. “Gus? Did you hear me? The girls are here.”
Oreo stood with his ears pricked, growling.
There was an answering grunt and moments later, a tall, balding man poked his head into the room, assessing the situation with narrowed eyes. His face was lean, his remaining dark hair combed over his bald patches. He had bushy eyebrows and alert eyes. He wore a stained shirt and sweat was glistening on his forehead as if he’d been running.
“This is Anna.” Nellie flashed him a big smile. “And this is Sarah. They’re trying to help Frank. They found some more insulin in the kitchen.”
He acknowledged her words with another grunt but didn’t move, didn’t introduce himself.
Anna frowned. He had positioned himself in such a way that his lower body and left hand were hidden by the doorway and the wall, and Anna wondered if he was armed.
There were two strangers in the house with them, and she felt a rising sense of dread building inside her.
Oreo’s growl deepened.
“Is he not friendly?” Nellie asked, eyeing the dog suspiciously.
“He doesn’t like strangers,” Anna replied.
&
nbsp; Frank moaned again, his lips moving as if he was trying to speak, but no words came out.
“Anna?” Sarah said, ignoring the intruders. “The water.”
Frank grimaced, his features contorting in pain. Anna knelt by his side, opening the bottle of water with trembling hands. “Dad?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her.
Anna took a deep breath, inserted the straw into the bottle and carefully placed it between his lips. “You need to drink.”
“Liz?”
Anna flinched at the sound of her mother’s name.
“Dad? You need to drink,” Sarah said.
Anna knew she resembled her mother; people had always said so but—
Sarah placed a hand on her shoulder. “Try again.”
Anna forced a smile. “It’s me, Dad. Anna. Your daughter.”
He sucked on the straw but didn’t swallow the water. It ran down his chin and into the fabric of his pillow.
“He’s too weak to drink. He needs an IV,” Nellie said.
“And how would you know that?” Sarah barked. “You still haven’t told me why you and your…brother are here.”
Gus grunted again.
Nellie turned to him. Her smile hadn’t changed as though it had been plastered on. “I’m so glad the girls are here to help Frank. I’ve been so worried for him.”
Gus stretched out his hand, and Nellie grabbed it. He squeezed it.
Anna thought of the ring they’d found. Were they husband and wife? Or was he just a worried brother who was looking after his sister—
The bracelet on Gus’ wrist caught Anna’s attention and she frowned.
Where had she seen that symbol before?
She scratched her temple. That symbol—
Her mum had ordered one of those bracelets for her father shortly before she’d died. Please. If you wear this—
Anna gasped. “Sarah! Gus has a medical ID bracelet.”
Sarah’s hand flew to her mouth. “That’s why I remember you. You’re here for Dad’s insulin, aren’t you?”
Nellie paled.
“Of course. You’re the receptionist. I saw you a few times when I dropped Dad off for a check-up.” Her eyes darted to Gus. “You’re—”
Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 2 | Darkness Falling Page 5