by Casey, Ryan
And then he took a deep breath, and he sighed.
He turned around, and he walked with Harriet.
Away from the woods.
Away from his search for Ella.
Away from all hope.
Until tomorrow morning, at least.
Chapter Three
Martin stared out of the window and counted down the minutes until he could get up tomorrow morning and start searching for Ella again.
It was late. The sun had set a while ago. Outside, he could still hear the voices in the streets of the community. The laughter. The happiness. The optimism.
And he wanted to feel it too. He wanted to connect with it. He wanted to be a part of it because he knew what they had here was good. He knew it boded well for the future. He knew it was something he should feel positive about.
But he couldn’t.
Not without Ella.
Not without any kind of closure.
He took a deep breath of the warm air. He could smell smoke. The smoke of the many fires that burned here in the shelter. The faint smell of cooked meat from whatever animals they’d hunted. And again, it should’ve made Martin salivate. It should’ve made him happy. It should’ve made him grateful.
But he saw everything through the lens of his loss.
And that wasn’t going to change any time soon.
He stared out into that darkness. The shelter was in a good state. He called it a shelter—they all did—but truth was, it was a large stretch of Lancaster that they’d secured and turned into their home. Around a hundred people lived here. They all had homes of their own. They’d expanded the place since the old leadership. Cleared out some of the houses further up the road, boarded up windows if they were smashed. Even built a rather solid wall out of scrap metal at the far west side of the main street, where they could keep an eye on people passing through—and figure out whether there were any threats that needed dealing with. It was still a work in progress, but it was looking promising. Gave an even stronger sense of security, which was always important. Sure, most of the people they ran into were okay. But you always had to show caution. You always had to be careful.
You never knew when your luck was up.
And as sceptical as Martin was about adapting to survival in a city and a community, he had to admit they had things pretty good here. There were lakes and woodlands right on their doorstep, ideal for fishing and hunting for food. They’d set up some decent water filtration systems, and they had a bundle of supplies that were left over from the old city. They were well-fed, well sheltered, and warm enough.
It wasn’t permanent. Nothing in this world was.
But it was as good as they were going to get for a long time.
So he had to be partly happy about that. He had to be appreciative about it at the very least.
He heard footsteps behind him creaking against the lounge floor, and his stomach sank.
“You okay?”
Martin looked around. Saw Harriet standing there in the middle of his lounge. Bruce was by her side, wagging his tail. Whereas most people here had made efforts to make their places look pretty homely, Martin wasn’t fussed about that. Discarded beer bottles covered any free space on the shelves. A painting of a sheep that fell down a couple of months back still rested on its side in the corner of the room. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling, just waiting for someone to swipe them away.
Martin nodded. “I will be. You should... you should head back—”
“Oscar’s fine,” Harriet said. “Ruth’s watching him. It’s you I’m bothered about.”
She walked across the lounge. And the closer she got, the more Martin felt himself wanting to withdraw, wanting to disappear into a hole in the ground and hide away.
Because he knew what was coming.
He knew what was approaching.
“It’s been six months, Martin.”
“I can’t stop searching—”
“Six months,” Harriet said. “And I know... I know it’s difficult. I can’t even imagine what I’d do if the same happened to my Oscar. But... but it’s time you stared the truth in the face. It’s time you accepted reality.”
Martin shook his head. “There’s no truth to accept. I can’t give up on her. I can’t–”
“You have to. Or it’ll tear you apart more than it already has.”
There were so many things Martin wanted to say. So many ways he wanted to argue.
But in the end, he just stood there. Because he couldn’t say a word.
“You’re already tearing yourself apart,” Harriet said. “The drinking. Starving yourself. Getting up at God knows what time to go walking through that woods. You don’t know what’s out there. Anything could happen. And you think this is what Ella would want? Really?”
“Ella would want me to keep searching. She wouldn’t want me to give up.”
Harriet stepped closer to Martin. “Ella would want you to look after yourself. She’d want you to look after the people who actually need you right now. Really need you. She wouldn’t want you to keep on tearing yourself apart. Not like this.”
Martin stood there, silent. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to argue back, but he couldn’t.
Because deep down, a part of him knew Harriet was right.
He knew he had to give up. Because the path he was heading down wasn’t a good one. It had one end. One damned end.
And if he didn’t stop spiralling down this path soon, that end wasn’t going to be a good one.
Harriet reached out and put a hand on Martin’s arm.
She looked into his eyes. Her big brown eyes. That dark hair. Those plump lips. And that way she looked at him. Those feelings he felt. That connection.
“I’m not asking you to give up on Ella, Martin,” Harriet said. “I’m asking you to start looking after yourself. And start... start looking towards the future. Not the past. Because you can’t let the past define things. You can’t let what happened in your past keep on eating you up. You’ve got to move forward. You’ve got to start living.”
Martin looked into Harriet’s eyes, and he wanted to lean towards her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to hold her, as he felt that warmth against his forearm.
But then he flinched.
Stepped back.
Looked away.
“You should leave,” Martin said.
Harriet looked back at him. Frowned. “Martin—”
“Go,” he said. “Please. I’m tired. I... I’m sorry.”
He glanced around at Harriet. Saw the way she looked at him. Mouth open just a little. Cheeks flushed. Like she wanted to say something.
But then she closed her mouth. Forced a smile. Nodded.
“Sleep well,” she said.
And then she walked away and out of the lounge.
Martin listened to her footsteps. He wanted to shout out to her. To tell her to come back. To hold her. To look into her eyes and tell her what he wanted to tell her.
But then he felt that blockage.
That fear.
The people who he’d been responsible for in the past.
The people he’d been close to.
And how much he’d failed them, time and time again.
He didn’t want the same fate for Harriet.
He listened to the front door creak open.
Listened to Harriet step out of it. Stand there for a few seconds.
And then he heard the door slam shut, as Harriet walked out into the night.
He turned around. Walked across his lounge. Sat on the cracked, cold leather sofa, and stared at the dusty, blank screen of the old television, still sitting in the corner.
Bruce jumped up on the sofa next to him. Rested his head on Martin’s lap.
“Here, lad. Here. It’s alright. Get yourself comfy why don’t you?”
He grabbed a half-empty beer bottle from the floor. Sipped back that flat liquid. Gulped it down and felt a buzz kicking in right away.
He closed his eyes and stared into the darkness as he listened to the laughter and the voices outside.
He waited for sleep to catch him.
But he knew what his dreams would contain.
He knew the happiness he would feel.
And he knew the pain when he woke up in the morning, all over again...
Chapter Four
Jax stood in the night and stared at the buildings in the distance.
He didn’t sleep much these days. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper night’s sleep. He didn’t mind. He preferred the night. Always had preferred the night. Something about the darkness that calmed him. Soothed him. Made him feel more at ease. It reminded him of when he was living over in the monastery in Burma. The nights he’d spend awake, meditating instead of sleeping, staring into the endless sea of forests. Listening to the unfamiliar animals calling out in the darkness. The faint smell of spice hanging in the air from the exotic cooking.
But there was something different now to then. The nights now weren’t filled with peace and solitude. They were filled with anger. A desire for vengeance.
And they were filled with an urgency to put right some wrongs that happened long ago.
He looked at those buildings, and he thought about the first time he’d visited that community. The desperation he’d felt. The situation he’d been in. The urgency to just get in there and get some kind of help. Because his people were dying. They were suffering.
He thought about their response, and he felt his jaw tense.
He heard footsteps beside him. Looked around. Saw Beth standing there. She was a lot thinner now. All of them were. They’d been on the road for months, at first. Jumping from place to place. Going days without food and struggling more for water now winter was over. Not knowing from day to day what challenges they were going to face.
But they were here now.
They were right where they belonged.
Right where they needed to be.
“What’re you thinking?” Beth asked.
Jax looked at her. Then he looked behind her. He saw the rest of his people sleeping. Only two of the original crew, Beth and Will.
But more now.
Many more now.
He thought of the people he’d lost along the way. All he’d wanted was the best for them. All he’d wanted was to help them. All he’d wanted was to feed them, and for them to stick together.
But the world took them away.
It took them like it took everyone away.
And the problem was only getting worse.
Until now.
He looked at the bags around them. At the food around them.
And he looked at the weapons around them, too.
Because they’d struggled. They’d been kicked down. They’d been forced into a position they shouldn’t have been able to bounce back from.
But then they’d done something to change that.
They’d got nasty.
They’d started surviving.
Truly surviving.
With all that it entailed.
They’d started attacking camps. They’d started raiding places for supplies. Not something he enjoyed doing, but something he knew had to be done.
Because this wasn’t the past anymore. The rules of the old world were out the window.
The past couldn’t define the present. And it couldn’t define the future.
It had to be about now. Right now.
Whatever this new world demanded of them.
“I’m thinking it’s almost time,” Jax said.
He looked into the distance. Into the night. Listened to the silence. Somewhere up ahead, he could hear voices. He could hear laughter. He could hear happiness.
Happiness that made him feel sick.
“And you’re sure this is the right way of going about it?”
Jax looked around at Beth. “Having second thoughts?”
Beth rubbed her arms and shrugged. “I just... I just hope this is the right call. And that you’re doing this for the right reasons. That’s all.”
Jax looked away from Beth. Back towards that city. Sure, he wanted the supplies this place had on offer. He wanted to take what they had—because what they had was good, and it was in abundance.
But there was something else to this, too.
Another layer to this.
A layer he had to pretend wasn’t there, but would always be there.
Would always haunt him.
And would get stronger and stronger until he did something about it.
He took a deep breath. Looked back at Beth. Smiled. “It’s for the right reasons. Don’t worry. Get some sleep. It’s going to be a long few days.”
Beth opened her mouth. Looked like she was on the verge of saying something.
And then she nodded, turned away, and headed back towards the rest of their people.
Jax looked at the bag sitting away from them. Right by the trees.
The bag of explosives.
He smiled.
And then he heard more footsteps approaching to his left.
He didn’t have to look to know who it was right away.
“You awake at this time again?” he asked.
Silence. Then, “Always.”
He looked to his side. Saw her sitting there beside him. Staring off towards those buildings. A glint to her eyes.
“So when do we start?” she asked.
Jax smiled back at her. At least she understood. At least she knew why he did what he did. What his motives were. Why he had to do what he did.
He looked away from her, back at those buildings of Lancaster, and his smile widened.
“Soon,” he said. “Very soon. And when we do, they won’t know what hit them. But they’ll regret what they took from us. What they did to us. Forever.”
Chapter Five
Like usual, Martin got up at sunrise and went out into the woods in search of Ella.
It was a cloudy morning. Really shit, in all truth. The real warmth had gone from the air, sucked away by this damp, humid, cloudy mess. Nothing like a miserable day to dampen your spirits. There was no sun peeking through the trees today, which gave the woods at early morning a darkness that hadn’t been present the last few days. It felt like winter again. Those dark mornings he’d spend wading through the woods, fingers and toes numb, just hoping for a trace of Ella, hoping for some kind of sign, no matter how small or tentative it may be.
A sign that never arrived. A sign that never came.
But a routine he could never give up.
It seemed quieter this morning, too. Usually, these late spring mornings were filled with the sounds of birdsong. Always an overrated sound, Martin found. Some people loved it. He found it annoying. Especially when he used to be trying to get some shut-eye pulled up in some lay-by, spread across the front seats of his lorry.
But he appreciated it now. It was his alarm. His cue to get out of bed. To get outside. To get searching.
He walked through the woods, along a slightly different track to yesterday. That was his method. Change his route slightly. Deviate his area of exploration, just a little. Hope to find something new.
But today, Harriet’s words kept resonating in his mind. They kept on echoing around his skull.
“Ella wouldn’t want you to keep on tearing yourself apart. Not like this.”
He took a deep breath, shook his head. He couldn’t let Harriet’s uncertainties put him off. He understood where she was coming from. She wanted him to have some semblance of happiness. She cared about him, and she wanted him to be okay.
But there was no point in pretending there was anything that could make him okay other than the truth.
Ella.
Finding Ella.
If he didn’t find Ella, his time was up.
He gripped his hunting rifle. Figured he could at least pretend he was out here hunting and not anything else. Bruce walked alongside him, sniffing at the ground. He was a
smelly thing these days. Always reeked of damp, probably ’cause of the pool of manky water he insisted on plunging into every damned morning. Martin appreciated Bruce’s company. Probably the only one he really felt comfortable with these days. Not to put down Harriet. He liked her. Got on well with her. And he could sense something between them both. Tension there. Like she liked him, and he liked her, but he just couldn’t articulate it. Just couldn’t get the words out.
It felt like a cloud had been hanging over him ever since Ella disappeared. Like he couldn’t just continue with life. Like everything was on hold.
What a long way he’d come from the guy on day one who’d been eager to get her back home because he didn’t think he was capable of looking after her. It was a cruel irony, in a way.
He waded along the solid ground, past more trees. Yawned. Felt a little tired. Another shit night’s sleep. He saw a few traps laid either side of him, one of them empty. He’d check on the other later, but it looked like there was something in there.
As much as he tried to stay focused, he felt like he was just going through the motions. Like he wasn’t actually making any progress or finding anything new. Just searching because he had to. Searching because he couldn’t physically do anything else.
He went to take a right when he saw Bruce sniffing at a tree up ahead.
“Come on, lad,” Martin said. “Gotta get a move on.”
But Bruce didn’t budge.
He kept on sniffing at that tree.
Kept on showing interest in something.
Like he’d found something.
Martin frowned. Walked over towards Bruce, rifle raised, just in case anyone was lurking. “Bruce? What you got there?”
He reached Bruce’s side, and he saw it.
There was something on the ground.
Something right by that tree.
A black wool hat.
Martin crouched down. Lifted it. Moved it around in his hand. He’d walked this way before a ton of times, and he’d definitely never seen it. Could it be from one of the people from Lancaster? Someone who’d gone hunting and dropped it? Or had he just missed it? Possible.