by Casey, Ryan
“Now, what’s the plan?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Martin saw Ella standing outside his tent, he still couldn’t quite believe it.
It was early afternoon. He figured so, anyway. The sun hid behind the trees. He could hear birdsong above, all around. A strange peacefulness to the day. Clarity to it. Clarity like he hadn’t felt in a long time.
And standing there at the entrance to the tent, Ella.
It was strange since he’d got to Jax’s camp. All of it felt like a blur. His home life—his life at Lancaster. Harriet, Oscar, even Bruce—all of those felt like they’d slipped into the background. None of that felt real anymore.
And yet... Ella. His daughter. He’d barely even had an opportunity to speak to her. Not alone, anyway. Not properly. It felt like in a weird kind of way; he was resisting the reunion. He was pushing it back. Because he feared Ella had changed. He feared things had changed between them. That she wasn’t the same girl he’d lost in the woods that day.
Because she was standing by this murderer’s side. Jax’s side. And he didn’t know just how much of an influence he’d had on her.
She stood there at the entrance to the tent. Rubbed her arms like she always used to. Smiled sheepishly. That innocence flashing across her face, returning to her eyes.
“Hey,” she said.
Martin nodded. He wanted to say something more confident. Something more assertive. But in the end, all he could say back was: “Hi.”
She walked into the tent. Headed over to his side. Stood there a few seconds. Not saying anything. Just standing there. Staring at him. Waiting.
“You okay?” Martin asked.
Again, he knew the ridiculousness of the question. He knew he should really have something more profound to ask her. Something more momentous. They’d been apart for months. But it felt different now. Like there was something between them. Something unspoken.
Ella shrugged. Kept on rubbing her arms. “Yeah. I guess. But this is...”
“Weird?” Martin said.
She nodded. Half-smiled back at him. “Yeah. Weird.”
He looked into her eyes. He wanted to stand up. He wanted to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay. That he was here now.
But he couldn’t.
He just couldn’t.
“So, this Jax fella...”
“What about him?”
Martin gritted his teeth. “Has he...”
“Treated me well? Yeah. Yeah, he has.”
Martin was relieved. He really was. But at the same time, he didn’t like the thought that anyone else was looking out for his daughter. That anyone might be having any kind of influence on her. As bad as that sounded.
He didn’t want to live with the knowledge that someone might’ve wormed their way into her consciousness and poisoned her against him.
“Shame he couldn’t extend that goodness to our group.”
Ella sighed. She looked away. “You’re talking about the explosion.”
“Yeah. The explosion.”
“That wasn’t ideal.”
“No,” Martin said, unable to contain his anger, his sadness, his frustration. “No, it wasn’t ‘ideal’. People died. Good people. Innocent people.”
“Believe me. I didn’t support it. But Jax. He had to take a stand. He had to do something.”
“And killing innocent people was the first thing that came to mind? Really?”
Ella shook her head. “I’m sorry. For what happened. I just... You’re here now. And we have a chance. A chance to take that place for ourselves. Because as much as you go on about Jax, Harold’s just as dangerous. I’ve seen it for myself. What he did to Olivia. And what he’s kept on doing, the way he’s pushed us back, time and time again. You need to keep an eye on him. A very close eye on him. But I guess you won’t get the chance to anymore. Not now you’re here.”
Martin sighed and turned away. As much as he’d learned some awful things about Harold, he still didn’t see him as on a par with Jax. Even though they’d pledged to stand together to take him out. To change the leadership. Because one thing was for sure—a change of leadership was needed. It just didn’t necessarily mean Jax was going to be the one stepping in as leader.
But then there was truth to Ella’s words, too. The number of people coming to Lancaster had dropped recently. He’d never for a moment thought that it was because those people out there were being hunted down. Pushed back. Slaughtered.
“So this plan. We go in. We take Harold out, whatever that means. And then what? We just expect these people to step in line? Because there’s order there. There’s structures. People have roles. They have jobs. You think they’re going to just open their arms up for a new leader, just like that? Because those people are loyal. You might find it hard to believe, but Harold is well liked. He’s respected. He isn’t the monster to them that you make him out to be.”
Ella looked outside the tent. Out at the voices. At Jax’s people packing up, getting ready to move. “Maybe it won’t work out. Maybe it’s an impossible mission. Maybe we’ll gain nothing at all. But we have to try. Because if we don’t fight back, Harold is just going to keep on hunting us down. He’s going to keep on eliminating the smaller communities. All to keep his perfect little home in check.”
Martin heard Ella’s words, and they didn’t sound like the words of a girl who was poisoned. A girl who was brainwashed.
They sounded like the words of a girl who’d experienced a whole lot more than he had—seen things from a different perspective—and saw a different route forward.
They sounded like the words of a girl who just wanted a better future for everyone.
He saw his reluctance. His belief that he couldn’t look out for people. He couldn’t be there for people. Because he’d lost so many people before.
But Ella was still here.
She was right by his side.
He’d found her.
So maybe he was wrong.
He looked up into her eyes, and he took a deep breath.
“I don’t like Jax,” he said. “I don’t trust him for a second. But I trust you. Because you’re my daughter. So I’ll help you. And I’ll help these people. But that doesn’t mean I’ll help Jax become leader. It just means... it just means I’m going to ask Harold some questions. Some very serious questions.”
A smile crossed Ella’s face. A twinkle to her eyes.
And then in the silence, for the first time, she leaned over towards Martin and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
“I’ve missed you too.”
And just as quickly as she’d wrapped her hands around him, she pulled away. Walked over to the tent opening. Emotion drifting from her face. That cold, stony exterior returning once again.
And then Martin walked over to her side.
Looked outside at the woods.
Outside at the sunshine.
Outside into the future.
“Come on,” Ella said. “We’d better get moving.”
Martin took a deep breath as he looked across the camp at Jax. Rucksacks over his shoulder. Smiling.
And then he let that breath go, and he nodded. “Yes we had.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harold sat in his office and tried to wrap his head around the note in his hand.
It was early afternoon. The warm sun beamed through the large bay windows in his office. Didn’t matter what time of year it was, there was always warmth to his office. Something he’d always loved about it, even before the EMP took the power out. He’d worked as a councillor for the city of Lancaster for ten years now, and this office had been his own for six of those. He used to love getting in early back in the day, sitting by those bay windows with a brew and watching the sun rise, watching the cars depart the driveways, parents hurrying their kids along to school. The gentle bustle of a city he loved, unfolding before his very
eyes.
It wasn’t like he had much in his own life to worry about. He’d never really been in any relationships. He’d had a few dates over the years—some of which he thought actually went well. But they always ran into the same roadblocks. He didn’t drive. He still lived with his mother. And he was sixty-one years of age.
It didn’t matter how much he insisted he was his mother’s carer. Something about their relationship just put people off him. And as much as he’d loved his old mum, right up until her death, he couldn’t deny a sense of freedom setting over him when she passed. A weight lifting from his shoulders. He was finally free to live the life he wanted to live.
And then the power went out.
At first, Harold found it typical. He’d finally got a chance to spread his wings and fly, and the world decided it had other plans. It suffocated him like his mother had. Held him back; threatened to drown him.
But in the chaos, Harold sensed opportunity. A feeling that the city of Lancaster needed order. It needed someone there to watch over it. To bring it comfort. Someone who cared.
A chance to finally be recognised for his love of his city.
Because it wasn’t an exaggeration to say he loved Lancaster. He’d thrown everything into that place. He’d supported clean energy initiatives. He’d championed anti-racism programmes and youth rehabilitation centres. He’d done everything he could to devote his life to the city.
And what recognition had he got for his troubles?
None.
Since the power went out, all that changed.
At first, he’d sat in the background and allowed the police to do their thing and attempt to cling on to control. But then things had gone south very fast. A rogue group seized the place.
But the rogue leadership didn’t last long. Especially not when the leader’s cronies fell.
All that coinciding with the arrival of Martin.
Harold tasted bitterness in his mouth when he thought of Martin. He seemed like a good guy. Kept a low profile. Kept himself to himself. Torn up about the disappearance of his daughter. Clearly depressed.
But not the kind of guy Harold thought would cause any problems.
That said, there was something about Martin. And about his daughter in particular. Something that brought Harold problems. Something that kept him awake at night for fear of how Martin might react if he found out the truth.
The truth was simple.
Harold knew Ella was out there.
He knew because his people were hunting her people down.
And that had the potential to become problematic.
He sipped back a glass of whisky. The burning taste covered his tongue, crept down his throat. He wasn’t a genocidal maniac or anything like that. He didn’t want to wipe the rest of the country out. He just cared about this place. His home. And he’d seen already what happened when this place fell into the wrong hands.
He didn’t want his home being contaminated.
He’d worked so hard to get it to the point it was at. Providing for itself. Abundant with farming projects and routine hunting operations. There was fresh water. There was shelter. More importantly than anything, there was order.
Anything that might topple that order wasn’t worth entertaining.
So it had to be stamped out before it had a chance to arise.
He looked down at that note. Read it again and again.
Harriet,
I’m sorry, but I had to go. I hope you’ll understand.
I’ll be back home. I want to promise it, but I can’t.
But I’ll do my best.
Something isn’t right. I can feel it.
Love.
M x
And then he thought about Harriet. How she’d insisted she didn’t know a thing about Martin’s whereabouts. How she claimed he was at home, as far as she was concerned.
But he was out there now. He was out there because to him, something didn’t seem right.
And clearly something didn’t seem right to Harriet, either.
Because if it had seemed right, she wouldn’t have hidden that note from Harold.
He crumpled the note up. Threw it to the floor.
And then he looked back out of that bay window, taking another long sip of whisky.
He knew Ella was out there.
And now Martin was out there. Which meant soon, he’d find out the truth. The truth of what Harold had been doing to those people on the outside. About the hunting. The killing. Didn’t matter what the motives were, there was no doubt how Martin was gonna see this. Especially with his daughter in the frame.
He looked down at the street, towards Martin’s empty house. He was a good man. A noble guy. A guy just suffering because of the loss of his daughter.
But now he was dangerous.
Because he knew the truth.
That’s why he’d sent Quentin over there to take him out.
And if the truth came back here, if any doubts entered the minds of the residents of this great city, that order was at risk once again.
And Harold wasn’t risking order being toppled.
He cared far too much about this place to let one man cause any problems for him.
He walked to his chair. Sat down. Put his hands behind his head.
If Martin weren’t dead yet, he soon would be.
And Harold didn’t care who else had to fall in the crossfire to keep this place secure.
He thought about Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce, and sweat trickled down his forehead.
He’d do what he had to do.
Whatever he had to do.
For the city.
Always.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
As Martin walked towards Lancaster, he still couldn’t wrap his head around just how rapidly everything was changing.
It was afternoon. The air felt warm, clammy. Reeked of sweat, too, from Martin, from the rest of Jax’s people. There were twenty-six of them in total. All of them from different groups initially, but all of them brought together by circumstance. Brought together because Harold was supposedly tracking them down. Drawing them from their homes. Hunting them like prey.
And Martin had questions, of course. Harold. Maybe he was hunting these people down for a reason. Maybe they weren’t who they said they were. Perhaps there was a genuine reason to be afraid.
But then he saw Ella walking up ahead, too. Talking with one of those people. A girl around her age. And then he saw someone else, too. A child. Seven, eight years old. If these were the kind of people Harold was hunting down, what could they possibly have done? How could these children possibly be guilty of any crimes?
Martin walked amongst these people. Some of them seemed friendly. Some of them spoke. Some of them didn’t have much to say. But one thing struck Martin more than anything. These people. They just seemed like normal people. Ordinary people.
People brought together by circumstance.
People who just wanted to find a home.
Somewhere to belong.
“Remarkable how much can be achieved when people pull together, isn’t it?”
Martin jumped. Looked to his side.
Jax stood there. Walked alongside him. Like he’d been there for a while, and Martin just hadn’t realised.
He felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. Felt his defences rise. He didn’t like this guy. Didn’t trust him. He was a killer. He’d attacked his home. Killed some of his people.
And worse than that, he seemed to have some kind of hold over his daughter.
Martin looked away. Didn’t say a thing. Just kept walking. He had nothing to say to this guy. He just wanted to get this over with. He just wanted to get to Lancaster. To confront Harold. To take him down if that’s what it came to.
Jax was just a convenient ally right now.
But he wasn’t a friend.
“I realise it’s difficult,” Jax went on. “Realising everything you believed was a lie. It strips something from you. A sense o
f purpose. I’d even call it a sense of self.”
“I’m enough myself to realise what kind of guy you are,” Martin said.
“And that’s the problem. You believe things about me because of your perspective. Your belief system. But life’s not that simple. It never has been. And it’s probably more complex now than it’s ever been.”
Martin shook his head. “You attacked my people. You blew up a damned wall that kept people safe. Innocent people. Families. People who’ve never done anything wrong.”
“And I have regrets about that,” Jax said.
“Regrets? Good. Oh, good. I’m glad you have regrets about it. That makes everything okay.”
“Have you ever been so desperate for a better life you’ve done something drastic?”
Martin frowned. “What?”
“Simple question. But reaching an answer isn’t so easy. Think about it. Have you ever been so desperate for a better life that you’ve done something drastic? Truly drastic?”
Martin didn’t know what to say. But as they walked through those woods towards Lancaster, he thought about Jax’s question. He thought about the people he’d killed since the lights went out. He thought about just how far he’d go where Ella was concerned, just how far he’d go to protect her. And he realised the answer was complicated.
“But that’s easily said,” Martin said. “You didn’t have to do what you did. You weren’t trying to save anyone. You were just trying to provoke a reaction.”
“Quite the opposite,” Jax said. “I was trying to bring about change.”
Martin shook his head. Anger bubbled up inside. It could’ve been Harriet in that blast. It could’ve been Oscar. It could’ve been Bruce.
“I’m sorry for your losses,” Jax said. “Truly. I mean that. But I can only focus on what’s in front of us. The task ahead of us. What we have to do. And you’re here. You’re here, and you know the truth. If we hadn’t done what we did, you’d still be trapped in that lie. A beautiful lie, sure. But a lie that had an expiry date. I’m sorry for your people. For your friends. But I’m not sorry for waking you up. Not one iota.”