by Ryan Casey
A dog.
Sitting there.
Rottweiler type.
Just staring at him.
He got a real case of the creeps right there. Lifted his bow, pointed it at it. Was this the dog the woman last night had? What was it doing here, all on its own? What the hell was happening?
“Stay close, you two,” Finn said. “Keep your heads up. We’re not alone.”
But as he got closer to the dog, he realised something.
Something dawned on him.
Gemma. Colin.
They were silent.
A shiver ran up his spine.
“Gem?”
Nothing.
Nothing but the sound of his own voice echoing.
And this dog, growling.
He stood there. Heart racing. He didn’t want to look back. Didn’t want to turn around. Didn’t want to see.
Because he knew something was wrong here.
Very wrong.
He just didn’t want to face it.
But he knew he had to.
He turned around.
Slowly.
And right away, he froze.
Two people had knives to the throats of Gemma. Of Colin.
He went to lift his rifle.
Then he felt a cold blade to his own throat.
“Not so fucking fast,” a woman said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Aoife held the blade to the man’s throat, and she felt some kind of plan forming right before her eyes.
She just didn’t know exactly how it was going to go just yet.
The man struggled as she pushed that blade against his neck. Hand over his mouth. Up ahead, she saw Vince and Heather, both holding on to a person each. Heather had that blade rammed right into the throat of a woman. Vince seemed a little shakier, a bit more sheepish, a bit less secure. Had to hope he held on bloody tight.
“This is how we’re going to do things here,” Aoife said, running through the array of options in her mind. “We’re… we’re going to need your help.”
The man shuffled. Mumbled under her grip.
“Your people have a friend of mine. Kayleigh, she’s called. And you have someone else, too. A man from the helicopter. The one that crashed last night. You’re going to help us get to them. After that… what happens is your business.”
The man continued to shake. Twitch. Struggle.
“We’re not interested in starting a war. We could be, but we’re not. We just want these people. These two people. You’re going to help us get them. And then we’ll go our separate ways and be done with it.”
The man kept on struggling. Vince seemed to be having trouble holding his guy back. Heather was the only one who seemed secure. Holding on to that woman, tight. Knife so close to her throat that one slip would take her out, no doubt about it.
But Aoife wanted them both to be careful. Because she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted them dead yet.
She wasn’t sure what she wanted. Not yet.
She figured this was just something that would have to play out by itself.
The man Aoife held on to was the most vocal. Shaking. Like he was trying to say something. Trying to speak.
And as much as Aoife didn’t really want to give him the chance, she figured she had no choice.
She went to pull her hand away from his mouth when it all happened so fast.
The man Vince was on punched back.
Broke free of Vince’s grip.
Bolted.
“Don’t let him go!” Aoife shouted.
“Fuck,” Vince said, clutching his nose, which was broken. Bleeding.
“Hey!” Aoife shouted. “Don’t let him go!”
But looking at him, running down the street, legging it as fast as he could… Aoife realised it was already too late. That bloke was gone.
Vince looked around. Regret in his wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’d fucking better be,” Heather said. “I told you I couldn’t trust him with anything. I fucking told you this idea was dead on arrival.”
“We’ve still got two of them.”
“Oh, yeah,” Heather said. “And that’s really gonna go down well when that fella gets back to Robert. When he finds out what we’re trying to do here. We’ve no choice here, Aoife. No choice but to take these two out and get the hell away from here. Before anything else goes wrong.”
Aoife heard the man she was holding onto crying out, even louder. Mumbling. She could hear he was trying to say something. Trying to bargain. Trying to plead.
“Aoife,” Heather said. “It’s already too late. Get it done.”
“Don’t do…”
But again, it all happened so fast.
Heather rammed the blade into the woman’s neck.
Again and again and again.
With such a violent ferocity that Aoife was convinced she was actually enjoying it.
The woman twitched. Shook. Gargled. Clutched her throat, kicked out, tried to fight.
But it was already too late.
She was gone.
Silence fell over the street. Vince stared on, mouth wide. Heather stood over her, staring down at her, blood splattered all over her.
“What the fuck?” Aoife said.
“I had to do it,” Heather said. “I had to do it, and you know I did.”
“I told you to hold back.”
“You’re not the boss of all of us.”
“It was part of the plan. They were supposed to help us.”
“They’re not helping us,” Heather said. None of them are helping us. It’s too late. One of them’s done a runner. One of them’s dead. Just get it done with, Aoife. Get it—”
“Please!”
A shout.
A shout from the man Aoife was holding onto.
A shout that must’ve slipped out. Her hand must’ve slipped away from his mouth or something.
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Heather said.
“I—I can help you,” the man said. “Whatever you want. I can help you.”
“Aoife,” Heather said. “Do not listen to him.”
Aoife kept the knife to his throat. She felt the warm tears from his eyes falling onto her hand.
“Please,” the man cried. “I—I can figure something out. We all can. This—this mess here. I can help you clear it up—”
“Don’t listen to him!” Heather said.
And as much as Aoife didn’t want to sympathise with this guy, as much as she was reluctant to trust him… she heard his begging voice, saw the tears in his eyes, and she felt something awoken inside her.
A sympathy.
And also a sense of wanting things to be different.
Wanting to believe he was for real.
“Please,” he said, looking at her now. “I… I don’t agree with what Robert’s doing. Not all of us are like him. We’re just—we’re just lost. We’re just in need of some hope. But it doesn’t have to be that way. I can help. I can—I can help you change things.”
“Aoife,” Heather said. “If you keep him alive… if you trust him… you’re putting us all in danger.”
“I know it might look that way,” the man shouted. “But—but I can help. I want to help. I want to help you. Please. Just give me a chance. I can help you fix this. Please.”
Aoife listened to this man’s begging.
She saw the knife in her hand. Like it wasn’t a part of her. Like she was seeing it on a screen.
She saw herself stabbing this man.
Taking him out.
She saw herself stealing his clothes and the three of them all sneaking into Robert’s community.
She saw it all happening…
But then she heard his begging voice.
“Please. Please.”
She heard it, saw it, and she knew there was only one thing she could do.
She lowered her knife.
“You don’t move a muscle,” Aoife said. “And you don’t st
ep an inch out of sight.”
Heather’s eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing?”
“He’s going to help us,” Aoife said. As assertively as she could. “And if he doesn’t… then, I’ll take great pleasure in killing him myself.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Robert stepped out of the medical bay and couldn’t get the conversation he’d just had out of his head.
It was warm out here. Stuffy. His collar felt too tight. Today, he was supposed to feel good. He was supposed to feel optimistic about the future. He was supposed to feel positive about everything ahead. Because his prophecy had come true. A helicopter had fallen from the sky. They’d pulled a man from the wreckage. And later this evening, he was giving a speech to his people. A speech where he told them everything he’d learned from the man from the helicopter, Thomas Suzuki.
A speech where everything changed, all over again.
But he didn’t feel good. He felt quite the opposite of good. Because of the conversation he’d had. Because of what he’d learned.
And because of how threatening that knowledge was.
He realised his jaw was clenched. So tight that his teeth were grinding against each other. He did that when he was stressed. Clenched his fists too, so tight that his fingernails buried into his palms. His doctor always used to tell him to use it as a trigger to take a deep breath. To relax. Let it all go.
But right now, he didn’t feel like letting anything go.
How could he let anything go?
He was supposed to be in control. He was supposed to be the one with the power. He was supposed to be the one who made people kneel.
He stood there. Shaking a little. He hadn’t shaken in a long time. He could see the sun shining down on the streets of his community. He saw people in the streets, smiles on their faces, looking over at him. He saw them speaking to one another. Laughing. Grinning. Like they were expecting good news. Like they were anticipating something big.
Well, they were going to get something big. That was for sure.
Only it wasn’t what they were hoping for.
And yet, as he stood here, feeling shivery now despite how warm it was, he wondered if maybe he could spin things in his favour somehow. Because when they learned what Thomas Suzuki had told him—if he went down the route of telling them what he’d learned—then they were going to want order. They were going to want leadership. They were going to want to stick together.
Because a dark future awaited.
Maybe it was exactly what they needed to keep the community together.
Maybe it was exactly what he needed to make more people kneel.
He felt his inner frustration. Felt his turmoil. Felt himself sweating. There was another feeling, too. Another urge.
This urge made him want to get back to Kayleigh immediately.
It made him want to pick up where he left off earlier.
He thought about fucking her.
He thought about choking her.
He thought about punching her in the face while he came inside her, and suddenly, his jaw unclenched.
His stress relieved.
He would think about the next step later. He would think about what he was going to tell his people when his mind was clear.
Right now, he had some unfinished business to attend to.
He went to head back to his flat, past the fleeting glances, past the excitement, past the joy, when he suddenly heard a shout.
Over by the gate. A shout. A cry. Almost a scream.
He looked around.
Robert didn’t recognise the man running towards the gates at first.
But the closer he got, the clearer he became.
“Colin?” he said.
“They—they killed her,” Colin gasped. Planting his hands on his knees, panting. “They killed her and—and—”
“Slow down,” Robert said. “Who killed who? What’re you talking about? Speak to me, Colin.”
Colin puffed out a breath, closed his eyes. Then he looked back up at Robert, right into his eyes. “The woman from last night. The one with—with Kayleigh. And the dog. She’s with some others, too. They—they’ve got Finn. They’ve got Finn, and they killed—they killed Gemma. They slit her throat right in front of me.”
Robert heard the gasps. He saw the gathering crowd, all wondering what the hell was going on.
And as he stood there, he could feel the nerves growing. Feel the tension growing. Both outside him and within him.
And he wondered if maybe he could use that to his advantage.
He looked up at his apartment.
Up to where Kayleigh was staying.
He felt his fists clenching again.
Felt his jaw tightening and his teeth grinding against one another, again.
“Get a crew of eight together,” Robert said. “We’re going out there and ending this nonsense. Once and for all.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Aoife held the blade to the man’s throat and wondered whether she was making a mistake letting him live.
The sun was hot, stifling. She felt sweaty now, so damned clammy. Her chest was tight. Her heart was thudding. Off in the distance, she could see where the other bloke had run off to. Towards Robert’s people, no doubt.
And as much as that wasn’t the plan, as much as that wasn’t how things were supposed to go… Aoife couldn’t help wondering if maybe causing a bit of commotion—if what’d happened here with Heather slitting the woman’s throat and the other bloke running off back to Robert—might work to their advantage.
Especially considering they now had a hostage.
“Please,” the man said. Shaking his head. He was on his knees. Heather didn’t look happy about any of this. She looked royally pissed, in all truth. Like she just wanted to butcher the lot of them. Her brother included, by the looks of things, after he’d let the bloke called Colin slip off and run away like that. “I—I want to help you. I remember you. I remember both of you.”
Heather’s face turned, then. She came marching up towards the man. Knife raised. “What did you just say?”
“I said I remember you. I remember… I remember what Robert did. The choice he made you make. I wanted… I wanted to step in. I wanted to stop it from happening. Because—because he crossed a line that day. He’s crossed a line so many times since. And I… I want to stop him. So many of us don’t want it this way. Silently, we’re a majority, I’m sure of it. I just… Please. I want to try and help you.”
Heather stood there, right in front of this man. Aoife could see the fury in her eyes. The rage in her eyes.
“Your people made my brother choose between me and my sister. You made him choose me. And you expect me to just trust you? To just go along with whatever you’re proposing here?”
She shook her head. Spat on the ground, right before him.
“There’s only one way you help us here. And that’s by fucking rolling over and dying.”
She stepped forward, and instinct kicked in.
“No,” Aoife said.
She stood in front of the man. Stood right in front of him. Couldn’t quite believe she was doing it herself. But she wasn’t having Heather killing him. She wasn’t letting her fuck shit up any more than she already had.
Heather’s eyes narrowed. “Get out of my way.”
“You’re not taking another step towards him.”
“And you’re going to stop me, are you?”
“If that’s what it comes to, yeah.”
Heather shook her head. “You know, I knew I was wrong trusting you. I knew I was wrong signing up for this bullshit. I should’ve known it was bullshit the second I came along. You don’t have a plan. Nobody has a plan. My brother and I… we shouldn’t have joined you. We should’ve known better.”
She lifted her knife. Turned it on Aoife, now.
“Get out of my way,” she said. “Or I’ll make you.”
But Aoife didn’t move.
Aoife
held her ground.
“Really?” Heather said. “This really how you want to play things?”
“Empty revenge won’t bring you anything,” Aoife said. “But keeping him alive. Giving him a chance to help. It might. Don’t forget the one you’re really angry with here. Don’t forget your real enemy here. Robert.”
“This fucker is Robert,” Heather said. “His people, they’re devoted to him. They’re a fucking cult, and they’d die for him.”
“Not all of us,” the man said. “I—I know how it looks. And I know how it sounds. But seriously. I can help. I can help if you’ll just give me the chance.”
“How can you help?” Heather said. “You keep wittering on about fucking wanting to help. How can you help?”
“There’s—there’s a place nearby. A place with weapons. With supplies. I can take you there. We—we can lure a few of Robert’s people there if you want. You can disguise as his people, and you can go in and you can—you can save the people you want to save.”
“Bullshit,” Heather said. “You really think we’re falling for that shit?”
The man shook his head, sobbing now. “Please,” he said, planting his hands together. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t… I didn’t ever want to be a part of any of this. But Robert. He… he gave us a home. And he gave us hope. And—and you know, when the light fell from the sky, that hope grew even bigger. ’Cause it’s what he prophesied. It’s what he talked about all along. But I never believed none of that crap. I never believed in it. I—I worry what he’s gonna do. I wanna know who that man from the helicopter is, too. I wanna know where he comes from. Whether there’s more like him. And I… I don’t trust Robert to tell us the truth about that.”
He pushed his hands together so tight like he was praying.
“Please,” he said. “Just let me help you. Let me take you to get some supplies. You can hold the knife to my neck the whole damned way if you want.”
“Trust me,” Aoife said. “We don’t need any convincing to do that.”
“I want out,” the man said. “But we’ve got to move. The second Colin gets back… the second he tells them about Grace… you’ve gotta realise how deep shit we’re in. We can’t stay here. It’s gotta look like you’re holding me hostage. That’s exactly how it’s gotta look.”