by Ryan Casey
But the more she looked, the more she realised it was no use.
She was fucked.
They were both fucked.
She looked closer at these people. Men. Women. All of them staring at Kayleigh, who stood right beside her. None of them saying a word. Like they were waiting for Aoife or Kayleigh to break the silence.
And then, out of nowhere, a man stepped forward and walked to the front of the group.
He was tall. Bearded. Dark hair, deep brown eyes. Real serious look on his face. He looked healthier than the rest of the people here, somehow. Better built. A real sense of authority about him, right from the off.
The bloke didn’t have to introduce himself for Aoife to know right away he was the leader of this group.
The leader of the insurgents.
Hate filled her veins. A lust for revenge that she hadn’t felt so strongly for so, so long. Not since Grace.
She had to breathe through that. Remind herself it wasn’t healthy. And it wasn’t why she was here.
“For all your organisation,” the man said, “you’re more foolish than you look for walking right into a trap like this.”
So there it was. Shit. Confirmation, not that Aoife needed it. Salt in the fucking wound. They’d walked right into a trap. Been blinded by the fact that there were two people here, and gone wandering right in. Kayleigh was right. They should have held back. They should have been more careful. Shown more caution. She’d let emotion get in the way, and it had got them caught up in a shitstorm.
She looked over at Kayleigh. Saw her glaring at her. Knew she was in deep shit with her—if ever they got out of this mess. Aoife had taken the lead. Kayleigh hadn’t wanted to. It was on her. Completely on her. And she had to own her mistake.
“You killed our people,” Aoife said, speaking up. Because what other choice did she have? “You slaughtered them.”
Gasps amongst the crowd. Heads shaking.
The man—the leader—kept his composure. Narrowed his eyes. “Is that what they tell you? Are those the stories you tell yourselves to help you sleep at night?”
Aoife tried to step forward, instantly felt hands tightening, pulling her back. Someone holding her back. Stopping her progressing. “It’s not a story. I watched people die. People I care about have died. All because, what? Because you’re jealous of what we’ve got? Because you can’t stand that we’ve got power and you don’t?”
Again, more gasps. People shaking their heads, muttering amongst one another.
And the leader of the group holding his ground. Staring right at her, now.
“You really believe what you’re saying,” he said. “Don’t you?”
Aoife felt butterflies in her stomach. What the hell was he talking about? “What’s there not to believe? I’ve seen what you people have done. I’ve seen it with my own eyes.”
“Really? You’ve really seen it with your own eyes? Are you absolutely sure about that?”
Aoife went to speak. Then she realised something. Sure, she’d seen conflict. She’d seen violence between the two sides.
But had she really witnessed the attack in the way she told herself she’d seen it?
All she’d seen was an explosion.
But then…
There was no other explanation.
Right?
“Anyway,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. You people have already made your minds up. You’re lost causes, the lot of you. When you refuse to see the truth right before your eyes… it’s already too late.”
Aoife could only think of one thing.
At this moment where guns were pointed at her, a moment where her life felt like it could end at any second, she could only think of one thing.
That child.
Those children.
What it meant.
The significance of it.
Nobody said anything about children.
Harvey never said anything about children.
The guns raised.
The knives raised.
Pointed at her.
Pointed at Kayleigh.
“Any last words?” the man asked.
Aoife looked right at him.
Opened her mouth.
But all she could think of was that child.
And what the man said.
You’ve really seen it with your own eyes? Are you absolutely sure about that?
“What hasn’t Harvey told us about you?”
The man narrowed his eyes. Studied her closely, just for a second.
“What’s the truth?” Aoife asked. Not even sure what she was saying or why she was saying it.
The man stared at her even closer, his eyes bloodshot, his jaw quite visibly tensing.
And that’s when Aoife heard the rattle of gunfire.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Out of nowhere, Aoife heard gunfire.
The insurgents had opened fire. At least, that’s what she thought. That’s what she expected to see. Because there could be no other explanation for the eruption of gunfire. Where else could it have come from?
But as she stood there, looked ahead, she saw something very unexpected.
The insurgents were tumbling to the ground. Blood spurting from their necks and chests. Bodies hitting the earth, one after another.
They were falling. They were under attack.
Someone was helping Aoife and Kayleigh.
Someone was…
She saw them then, amidst the cries and the shouts, amidst the gunfire in return. Sanctuary. Reinforcements from Sanctuary, led by Cole. She wasn’t sure how many of them. Only there was enough of them.
Enough to cause a real problem to the insurgents.
Enough to wipe out as many of them as possible.
Aoife looked around at Kayleigh, saw her ducking out of the way of the crossfire. Running over towards the tents for cover.
And she was relieved about that.
Because there was something she had to do.
She turned around, first. Swung her rifle around and cracked the unsuspecting guard across his face; slammed him down to the muddy ground.
And then she looked back towards the insurgents’ leader.
Yuri, people were shouting at him. So that was his name. Yuri. He was the one who was responsible for the hell Sanctuary had been through.
She needed to take him out. He was the head of the snake. Take him out, and surely the rest would fall into disarray.
He was the leader. He was responsible for the attack on Sanctuary.
Sanctuary deserved justice.
She ran ahead, over the muddy ground, over towards that crowd of insurgents. They were shooting. Fighting back. Some of them dispersing. She saw some of them running away with fear on their faces. Some of them standing their ground and firing back, even though they were on the floor, wounded, bleeding out.
She saw the whole scene, and she couldn’t get that kid out of her mind.
The kid behind the tent…
She looked up and saw Yuri running off into the woods.
She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t letting him go. Wasn’t letting that murderous bastard weasel his way out of this one.
He was going to pay for what he’d done.
She ran up the slope towards the trees. Bullets whizzed past her, crossfire from both parties. All around her, she heard shouting. Cries. Screaming. And for a moment, just for a split second, it struck Aoife just how similar this felt to the attack at Sanctuary. To the panic and confusion she’d experienced so, so recently.
The people of this insurgent camp seemed just as terrified. And just as shocked.
And then she saw Yuri lifting a rifle and firing at her people.
She pulled her gun back, lifted it, pointed it at him. Her hands were shaky, and he was out of range, but she had a clear shot at him. A clear chance to take him out.
And then he ducked. Disappeared off, further into the woods. More of his people following him now.
She went to run
after him. Up the slope. As much as she knew she should be standing alongside her people and helping, she just couldn’t let Yuri get away. That would be more help in the long run. She couldn’t just let him escape.
She ran further towards the trees, rifle in hand, closer to his fleeing people while the rest of them fired and fled all around, when suddenly she heard a familiar shout.
She turned around. Looked back down the slope, down towards the tents.
Kayleigh was lying on her back.
An insurgent stood over her. Pistol in hand.
Aoife froze. Dread filled her body.
Somebody was going to die.
Somebody was going to die because of her.
She’d walked away from Kayleigh, and now she was in danger…
She didn’t even hesitate.
She lifted her rifle with her shaking hand.
Pointed at that man.
He tightened the trigger, all of it happening in slow motion.
And Aoife focused and fired.
The bullet whizzed past him.
Hit the ground beside him.
The man lowered his rifle.
Turned around.
Looked up at the trees.
And for a split second, he looked right into Aoife’s eyes.
“Won’t miss this time,” Aoife said.
She pulled the trigger.
The man’s head jolted back, and he fell to the ground right beside Kayleigh.
Aoife lowered her rifle. Looked around. The gunfire had eased now. The bulk of the insurgents—those who were still standing—had disappeared into the woods. The worst of the attack was over.
She looked around into the trees, into the darkness, over to where Yuri and the rest of his people had disappeared to. And as much as she wanted to go after him, she knew it was a fool’s errand right now.
There were more of them than she could handle.
And as much as instinct told her to go after them, never to give up, she knew she didn’t have a choice if she wanted to survive.
She lowered her rifle. Sighed. And she climbed back down the slope, down towards Kayleigh.
She held out a hand to help her to her feet.
Kayleigh batted it aside, and got up herself, then nudged past Aoife.
“This didn’t have to happen,” Kayleigh said. “None of this had to happen.”
And as she walked off, the guilt growing inside Aoife, she looked over at those tents where she’d seen those children, and something in her began to wonder if everything really was as it seemed here…
CHAPTER TWENTY
Aoife and Kayleigh had no choice but to head back home in the dark with the rest of their friends from Sanctuary.
But Aoife couldn’t shake the feeling that Yuri had got away with murder—and she’d been the one to let him slip away.
It was dark and cold, and to be quite honest, Aoife wasn’t all that keen on talking to Kayleigh. Because she felt guilty as fuck, in all truth. Why wouldn’t she? She’d dragged Kayleigh on in there, against her better judgement—and against Kayleigh’s will, in a sense. She’d almost got Kayleigh killed. And a few of the reinforcements from Sanctuary had been injured and killed bailing them out of the mess they’d got themselves into.
So yeah. She couldn’t help feeling a bit shitty about things right now. And she certainly didn’t need Kayleigh banging on about it to remind her just how shitty she should be feeling.
But she knew Kayleigh wasn’t one to hold back on how she was feeling. Especially not when she was pissed off. At least, not for long, anyway.
“You’re a fucking dick for what you did,” Kayleigh said.
Ah. There it was. Right on cue, right as Aoife expected. She supposed she couldn’t really complain or argue, though. She had been a dick. As much as she’d told herself she was doing what was right… she felt guilty. Rightly so.
“Kayleigh—”
“I don’t want to hear any crap about how sorry you are or how you thought you were doing the right thing. I don’t want to hear any of that, Aoife. You got us in the shit. Deep, deep shit. You almost got yourself killed, and you almost got me killed. You ended up pissing those terrorists off and got a bunch of our people hurt and killed. I know, I know, they say they came in to fight for justice anyway, whatever. But even so. We could’ve done things differently. We had an advantage, and we blew it. You blew it.”
Aoife didn’t know what to say as she walked in the darkness with Kayleigh. They weren’t far from home, so she figured she’d just have to take her grilling. She deserved it. Couldn’t exactly complain.
“You’re blinkered, and you’re ignorant, and you’re selfish, and you always have been.”
Ouch. That one stung a little. Just keep walking. Just keep calm. Don’t react…
“No wonder you’ve got people killed in the fucking past.”
“Hey,” Aoife said.
She turned on Kayleigh then. Because that comment, that was crossing the line.
But she could see the look in Kayleigh’s eyes. She could see she was out of control. That she was on the verge of saying anything—and that she didn’t have any regrets.
That she was just daring herself to say something else. To push Aoife some more.
“Anything else?” Aoife said. “Anything else you want to get off your chest while we’re here?”
Kayleigh opened her mouth. Like she was really thinking about it.
And then she closed it. Shook her head. “There’s nothing I need to say. You torture yourself about shit enough.”
She walked off ahead of Aoife, then. And something about it bugged Aoife more than anything. The way she’d looked at her—looked down at her…
“Fuck this,” Aoife said.
She marched off after Kayleigh. She wasn’t letting her have the last word in this one. Definitely wasn’t going to be made to feel like the bad one for sticking up for her community, for trying to do something for her home.
“Sanctuary came under attack,” Aoife said. “People died. Gregg died. So many people died.”
“I know that,” Kayleigh said. “I live there too. You’re not the only one who’s lost people.”
“Harvey sent us out to get intel. We had a chance—”
“We walked right into a trap,” Kayleigh said. “A trap I saw coming miles away. And don’t say I could have walked away or some shit like that. You’re my friend. And friends don’t walk away.”
She wanted to say something else, wanted to keep this fight going, wanted to keep on arguing her ground and standing up for herself.
But she knew there was nothing else she could say.
“Let’s just get back home,” Kayleigh said. “Today’s done. We go home. We reflect. And… and whatever happens next, happens.”
Aoife nodded. She figured that was the best approach right now. Just get the hell back home, then figure out their next step.
“I saw children,” Aoife said.
Kayleigh frowned. “Huh?”
“Behind the tents. I saw… I saw kids. They looked… I don’t know. But they didn’t look like…”
Kayleigh didn’t say anything. Just stared at her. Shook her head. “Stands to reason a group that big are gonna have kids around. What did you expect?”
Aoife wasn’t sure what she expected. Kayleigh had a point.
But just seeing those children. Seeing the innocent, scared looks on their faces…
She realised she’d been telling herself the insurgents were something other than human for a while now. Everyone had been treating them like phantoms rather than people.
Seeing them, being in their camp…
Something felt different.
“Come on,” Kayleigh said. “Let’s get back. I want some sleep before light. Can’t sleep for shit in the light.”
Aoife nodded. Looked back into the woods.
Then she took a deep breath and walked off after Kayleigh.
They walked in silence until they saw Sanctua
ry in the distance.
Aoife felt a warmth. Always nice seeing home. For more than a moment earlier, she’d felt that she might never see it again.
“I appreciate what you were trying to do,” Kayleigh said. “Just… pull your head out of the sand sometimes. The world’s a whole lot bigger than you think it is. Things aren’t always so black and white.”
She didn’t know what Kayleigh meant by that. Or at least what its relevance was to everything that’d happened.
But before she could ask her about it, she heard rustling in the trees.
She looked back. Saw Cole and the other Sanctuary friends who’d come to her aid.
And then behind them, she saw insurgents jumping out.
“Cole!” Aoife shouted.
But it was already too late.
The insurgents buried their blades into the throats of their friends.
Of their colleagues.
Of Cole.
Aoife’s stomach sank.
Fear engulfed her.
She watched as they flooded out of the trees, as Cole clutched his throat and fell to the forest floor.
He was dead.
They’d fucking killed him.
She went to lift her rifle with her shaking hands and fire at them when she heard movement behind her.
The next thing she knew, she felt a crack on the head, and darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Aoife opened her eyes.
It was dark. Pitch black all around her. For a moment, she felt totally calm. That feeling you get when you wake up and you’ve almost forgotten your problems. Your responsibilities. Your entire sense of self.
But then a niggling doubt crept in. Butterflies in her stomach.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The air in the room was cool. Far cooler than her bedroom at home at Sanctuary. It was quiet, too. Totally quiet. Sanctuary was never truly quiet. Because of the electricity. Never underestimate the power of… well, power. You only realise its radiant noise when you’ve lost it. Far noisier than anyone ever gives it credit for.
But in here, nothingness. An emptiness. It was unfamiliar. Alienating.