‘It’s me, Beth. Richard. Can you see?’
I widened my eyes, tried to shake some sense into them. Gradually the room came into focus. It was Suyin’s shack, and we were tied to the three support pillars.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Who’s here?’
The sound of the voices broke apart, becoming distinct.
‘You’re with me, Carmela and Francesca,’ said Richard.
Carmela was praying in Spanish. Frannie’s sobs sounded like an engine struggling to start.
‘Ed’s on the next post with Curtis, Bryce and Josh,’ said Richard. ‘Dani, Leopold and Evie are on the third. Josh, Dani, are you two OK?’
They responded with nervous mumbles. ‘Yes.’
I paused, running through the names.
‘Johnson?’ I said.
‘Johnson’s dead,’ said Leopold, voice trembling, from the far post. ‘That bastard killed him.’
Frannie made a wet snort. ‘Jus’ like they killed Mikey, and Rhona, and … and …’ she broke down again, then composed herself, ‘and my Harold. Did you see him? My Harold? They slit his throat like he was nothing but an animal. Like he was a turkey! Well –’ her voice darkened, and I felt her fidgeting in her bindings ‘– Ima show dem. Ima treat dem like animals too. Gonna gut ’em. Gut ’em like pigs, one by one, even if I have to use my own teeth! My own teeth! Aw, Harold.’
She broke down into sobs again.
Ed called, ‘Beth, are you all right?’
‘Erm…’ I gulped, checking my extremities. My prosthetic was still attached, I could move my fingers, and aside from my ankle the only pain was in my head, where I assumed I had been struck. I felt a wetness on my cheek. ‘I think so. You?’
‘Yes. I came to look for you. Next thing I knew I woke up here.’
‘Same here,’ said Richard.
‘Aye,’ croaked Bryce. ‘Me an’ all. You OK down there, pigeon.’
‘Si,’ said Carmela, surfacing from her prayer. ‘Si, mi amor.’
‘They arrived on the western shore,’ said Leopold. ‘Quiet as fuck, just snuck right past us. Must’ve cut Mikey’s throat before he knew they were even there. I heard scuffling out on the track, and by the time I got up Rhona was gone, and Harold too. Frannie, I’m so sorry sweetheart.’
Frannie sniffed. ‘I was … I was taking a shit … if I hadn’t a’been, I’d a had my throat cut too.’
Curtis spoke. ‘We were sleeping in shacks away from the main track. Rhona’s, Frannie’s and Harold’s, and Mikey’s were right on it. That’s how they got to them first. Guess they didn’t want to kill all of us, for some reason.’
‘Who are those sons of bitches?’ said Leopold.
‘It was him,’ I said. ‘Tony Staines. The one who was following us.’
‘Christ,’ said Leopold.
‘Well,’ said Curtis, ‘You were right about him being a – what’s that word you use, winker?’
‘Wanker,’ corrected Bryce.
‘That’s right. A wanker is what he is, most definitely.’
‘How are we going to get out of here?’ I said.
‘Don’t suppose you’ve still got that tin can, have you, Ed?’ said Bryce.
‘Nope,’ said Ed. ‘It was on the Elma.’
‘Try to reach each other’s knots,’ said Curtis. ‘See if you can untie them.’
We spent some minutes grunting and feeling around the post for knots. I found Carmela’s but the rope was thick and tight. It wouldn’t shift.
‘Hey,’ said Leopold. ‘Anyone seen Suyin?’
Before anyone could respond there were footsteps outside.
‘Quiet,’ said Frannie, ‘someone’s coming.’
The door squeaked open, flooding the floor with bright light. I had a sense that the mist had lifted.
And there in the doorway was Tony Staines.
‘Hello, hello, hello,’ he said, sauntering in like a CEO late to his own meeting. Beaming, he removed his sunglasses and tucked them in his shirt. Two armed guards stepped in behind and took position against the far wall.
‘Well now –’ he clapped his hands once and looked between the posts ‘– interesting place you’ve got here. Very interesting. Bit of a pong, if you don’t mind me saying, but yeah, by and large, I like it. You’ve done well with your resources; I admire that.’
‘Fuck you, asshole,’ said Leopold, but Tony ignored him. His grin stood firm as he walked the room, performing figure of eights around the posts.
‘You’ve got your water supply,’ he said, counting off on his fingers. ‘Assume that’s filtered rain, am I right? And absolutely lovely what you’ve done with that pool, it really is, although – irk – we’ll probably need to run those filters a wee bit longer for a few days after this morning. Then you’ve got your generator, fuel, reclaimed from all those old cars and what have you, amazing job, then – good heavens, I could hardly believe this – vegetables! Out here in the sea, on what is essentially, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, I really do, a rubbish dump! Aren’t you lot clever? And also, I see you’ve got some chickens.’
Curtis looked up at this.
‘Please don’t touch my hens, mister. I beg you.’
Tony widened his grin and walked on. ‘I do like a nice roaster.’
Curtis hung his head.
‘Anyway,’ said Tony, ‘all great, like I say, superb job, absolutely excellent, and I tell you what, if I was the hat-wearing type then I’d take mine off right now.’
He clapped his hands loudly, shaking his head in awe. When he stopped, his smile became something else, and he raised a finger.
‘The only problem is, from where I’m standing at least, this whole enterprise is … how would you say … unsustainable. Know what I mean?’ He looked around. ‘It’s only going to last as long as the ones who run it. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think that’s going to be too long.’ He laughed, a great wheezy laugh, and clapped his hands again. He was close to my post now, and prowling. ‘So, here’s what’s going to happen. My associates and I are going to complete our assessment of your little floating shithole, and then we’re going to have a nice sit down and a chat. Maybe over a few of those chickens.’
His eyes flashed down at me.
‘Maybe have a bonfire, eh Beth? Nice big one. They’ll see the flames for miles. Or they would, if there was anyone there.’ He knelt in front of me. ‘There’s not anyone there though, is there, Beth?’
I shook my head. I was bored. I felt no fear any longer. He was just an irritation. ‘Just what is your fucking problem? Why do you keep getting in my way?’
He smiled and pushed a ringlet of hair from my face. ‘I might ask the same of you, Beth.’
‘Don’t touch her,’ said Ed.
Tony turned. ‘Ah, is this the hero? The Great Soprendo? My little worker bee?’
He stood and walked to Ed’s post, squatted before him and sighed. ‘Do you know, I don’t have much to say to you. I don’t feel like we’ve, you know, connected. Not like me and Beth, eh Beth?’
Ed took a breath through his nose.
‘You smell like my grandfather,’ said Ed. ‘You remind me of him too.’
Tony stood. ‘Well, he sounds great!’
Ed shook his head. ‘He really wasn’t. He used to beat his dog, he never let anyone else speak and he died alone. He still smelled like that, even in his coffin.’
Tony glared down at him. Still grinning, he brought back his hand and smacked Ed across the face. Then he turned to us.
‘So, I’ll leave you now in the capable hands of Mr Aitkins.’ He gestured to one of the guards, who stepped into the light. It was Grot. ‘He’ll look after you when we’re gone. Shouldn’t be too long. Oh—’
He turned.
‘What happened to Maggie, by the way? Dare I ask?’
He made an awkward face as Dani stifled tears. ‘Guess not, eh? Right, I’m off, au revoir, now.
He left with the other guard, slammin
g the door behind him.
Dark and silence reclaimed the shack, though Tony’s stench remained in the air. There was a rustle, followed by a click and an orange circle burning in the corner. Grot took a drag and breathed out a great plume of smoke, walking the same route as Tony.
‘Whodda rabble,’ he said. ‘Whoddan absolute fookin’ rabble.’
‘Buddy,’ said Leopold, ‘why the hell do you spend your time with that asshole?’
Grot stopped before Leopold’s post. ‘Who the fuck are you then?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know, darlin’.’
Grot sniffed. ‘Sound like a bender to me.’
‘What’s a bender?’
‘It means a bloke who likes fucking other blokes in the arse.’
‘Really,’ said Leopold flatly.
‘Yeah, really. Good thing you’re tied up, ain’t it? Or you might have a go at me!’ He snorted with laughter and took another drag of his cigarette, still chucking.
‘Buddy,’ said Leopold, ‘even if you were the last asshole in the world …’
Grot had lost interest and turned to Evie. ‘And what are you, then? African?’
Evie buried her chin in her chest.
‘Leave her alone,’ said Leopold.
Grot ignored him, blowing smoke in Evie’s eyes. She coughed, keeping her face as far away from his as possible. ‘Hello,’ he sang, ‘I’m talking to you. Does she even speak?’
Growing bored he stood up and moved on. At Dani, he stopped. ‘Now then, now then, this is more like it. Hello, darling. You OK?’
His voice adopted a sickening lilt. Dani squirmed.
‘Leave her alone,’ said Josh.
Grot sneered. ‘All right, easy now. This your bird, is it? She is lovely.’
Josh glowered. ‘I mean it.’
‘Josh,’ hissed Richard.
‘I’m sure you do, mate, I would too with something this young and fresh. She is absolutely—’
He stopped. Bryce had started chuckling from the other side of the post. Grot stood.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh –’ Bryce spoke through his laughter ‘– oh, you carry on, mate, don’t mind me. It’s just, I mean, you know, I’ve met a few wankers in my time and more than I’d care to mention in the last few months, ken? But you, oh boy, you are just the worst, you really are.’
Bryce leaned his head back and shook with laughter. Grot took a last drag and flicked his cigarette on the floor. He loped round to where Bryce was tied. I heard Carmela’s whispered prayer gain momentum.
‘An absolute –’ said Bryce between breaths ‘– bona fide – fully paid-up – walloper, by the way – yer a’ fucking roaster!’
Bryce roared. Grot glared down.
‘You’d better watch your mouth, porridge chomper.’
‘Away and lick ma fart-box y’ radge wee shite!’
Bryce spat on Grot’s boots.
‘Bryce, please, no,’ said Carmela, turning from her prayer again. But Grot had already cracked the butt of his gun into Bryce’s forehead.
Bryce growled with pain. Still conscious, he hung his head, taking short, quick breaths, and said no more.
‘Bryce!’ called Carmela.
Grot turned, fuming now, and marched to our post.
‘And who—’
‘Hey,’ I said. Grot looked up.
‘What do you want?’
‘Come round here,’ I said, ‘I want to ask you something.’
Grot hovered between Carmela and me. Finally something clicked and a smile flickered on his mouth.
‘Oy know yow,’ he said, and squatted in front of me. ‘You’re that one what came into the camp. You ’ad a broken leg.’
He gave a satisfied smile, as if he’d got the right answer in a quiz. There was that fat, protruding tongue squashed between his lips like a slug.
‘How did you find us?’ I said.
He curled his lip and frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
I spoke slowly. ‘How did you know where we were?’
He shrugged. ‘I dunno. Mr Staines did it, had one of them … sextant things. You know, like those things you have at school but bigger. He used it to navigate like a compass. Fucked if I know how, I hate boats.’
‘But how did you know where we were going?’
‘’Cos you told us, dickhead. Daytona Beach, Florida, that’s where you were going, so that’s where we went too.
‘That doesn’t make sense. We were blown off course. There’s no way you could have known we’d gone north.’
The confusion was too much for him now. His grimace had nowhere left to go.
‘What are you talking about, north?’
‘This is New York.’
He hesitated. ‘No it’s not. It’s Florida.’
Time froze.
‘What?’
It was his turn to speak slowly. ‘Flo-ri-da. Just like Mr Staines said it would be, although you’re right, we were a bit far north. We saw some signs on the shore saying Jacksonville, and that made Mr Staines a bit pissed off because it meant we were a hundred miles off, but anyway …’
Feelings raced through me as he spoke. Hope, dread, joy and despair filled my blood, threatening to burst from its veins. Was it true? Were we only one hundred miles from Daytona Beach?
Had Ed been right all along?
‘… and as we turned south again, that’s when Mr Staines caught sight of his boat moored in this shit tip. You know, the one you stole from him. He said we should moor on the other side so you wouldn’t see us. He’s clever like that, is Mr Staines.’
He smiled, pleased with himself again. Nobody spoke. I looked at the ground. My pulse raced and I tried to draw breath. To be this close …
Grot put his face closer to mine. ‘Does that answer your question, love?’
I glanced up and he sneered. The sluglike tongue sat there glistening. I heard Carmela breathing hard.
‘Como un toro, Beth,’ she whispered.
Grot frowned at her.
‘I think she knows, pigeon,’ said Bryce.
And I did. With Grot distracted, I thrust the top of my head into his chin with all the force I could muster, snapping his jaw shut and whipping back his head. With a startled yelp he stood and staggered away with a hand to his mouth.
We froze as he stood there, eyes wildly roaming the room as he fingered the inside of his mouth. He gulped, then pulled something fleshy from between his lips. He stared in horror as half his tongue hung there dripping, and blood began to gush from his mouth. He turned to me.
‘Yewfooshingbish! Ashmoyshung!’
He staggered towards me, fist raised, roaring and spluttering. I braced, willing myself to keep my eyes on him rather than cower, but at the last moment I closed them and ducked my head, waiting for the blow I was sure would kill me or send me back into that terrible unconsciousness.
Moments passed. The blow never came. Instead I heard a whizz and a click.
I opened my eyes to see Grot hovering, puppet-like, with his fist pulled back. His eyes were crossed and his jaw jutted out, providing a small reservoir in which the blood from his severed tongue pooled, spilling like a waterfall. Another stream of blood ran down from centre of his forehead, in which a deep welt was visible.
He made a noise, swatted at something beside him which wasn’t there, staggered back a few feet and fell to the ground.
For a few moments the room was silent. Then it filled with the sound of eleven pairs of lungs exhaling.
‘What was that?’ I said.
‘That, missy,’ said Frannie, ‘was Suyin, I believe.’
‘Psst.’
We craned our necks and looked up at the open window above Suyin’s workbench. Sure enough, there was Suyin, catapult in hand.
‘Did I hit him? Can’t see.’
‘In the noggin’, Suyin!’ said Frannie. ‘Right between the eyes!’
‘Good,’ said Suyin. ‘He was very annoying.’
She
swung a leg through the window, balanced for a second, then threw the rest of her body in with it and landed nimbly on the workbench.
She snatched a knife, jumped down and went to work on our bindings.
‘He dead?’ she said, when Evie was free. Evie ran to Grot’s still body and checked his pulse.
She nodded furiously. ‘Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.’
Suyin was deft with her knife and each freed pair of hands went to work on the rest. Soon we were standing, rubbing our wrists. Ed came to me and we hugged.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. My head hurts.’ I reached for it, wincing as I found two lumps.
‘Was he right?’ said Ed. ‘About being further south than we thought?’
Curtis shook his head, bewildered. ‘Can’t say, but … it’s possible, I guess. We never made it back to land, and the whole shoreline’s been dark and covered in smog since we left. Suppose we could have drifted.’
‘But Johnson said he thought he could make out some of the skyline on clear days.’
Suyin shrugged. ‘Sometimes we see what we want to see.’
Frannie shook her head. ‘I told Harold it was getting warmer, I told him. “We’re drifting,” I said. “Feels like the South again.” I could even smell it! But he didn’t believe me, said it was my hormones. Told him I don’t got none!’ She made an exasperated sigh. Then her lip trembled. ‘Aw Harold …’
Evie hugged her. I turned to Curtis.
‘If we’re just south of Jacksonville, how far is Daytona Beach?’
‘Can’t be more than seventy, eighty miles on water. You could be there by sundown.’
My eyes flashed to Ed. ‘Ed, we have to go. Now.’
‘She’s right,’ said Curtis. ‘Y’all got to get back on that boat and leave. It’s your only chance.’
‘What about Tony?’ said Ed.
Leopold had found a baseball bat in one of Suyin’s junk piles.
‘You leave that piece o’ shit to us.’
‘There’s no way you’ll be able to take them all,’ I said. ‘They’re armed.’
Evie emerged from one of the piles brandishing a skipping rope, tightening the ends around her skinny fists and pulling it taut. ‘So are we.’
Curtis and Frannie found a machete and a metal spike each and stood with the other three.
‘Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to fight in our lives, Beth,’ said Curtis. ‘And if we can’t beat them, at least we can do some damage for what they did to our friends, and give you some distance in the process.’
The End of the World Survivors Club Page 30