Adam tossed the revolver aside. It skimmed across the wet tarmac.
He began to sob. Then wail. Then scream.
Tasha lay down next to him and did the same.
Adam must have been asleep, because when he woke there was a fireman standing over him. The clean-shaven man looked bewildered, but when he knelt beside Adam his voice was soothing. Familiar? “My name is Mike,” he said. “There’s been a fire but you’re okay. An ambulance is going to be here any minute to take care of you. There are… There are bodies everywhere. Can you tell me what happened here?”
“They died,” said Adam wearily. “They died because of me.”
“Sir, I don’t understand. How is this all because of you?”
“Because I got drunk. I fell asleep.”
The firefighter frowned and seemed to grow concerned. “Okay, buddy. It’s all very confusing, but you just relax, okay?”
Adam felt like he was dreaming, like he was floating above his body looking down. He was aware of burning, could smell it and feel it, and he was aware of the sun shining weakly in the grey sky. He was aware of pain all over his body.
And something else…
He sat up like a spring, agony trying to drag him back down but losing. “Tasha? Where is she?”
“I’m over here.”
Adam turned and saw Tasha being treated as she sat on the ground. A female firefighter was checking her over for injuries, but mostly urging her to remain still. Despite the horrible state of her face, and a glassy look in her eyes, Tasha managed to give him a smile. “I’m okay. John’s in bad shape though. I’m not sure if he…”
Adam looked past her and saw a third firefighter leaning over what must have been John. He wasn’t moving.
It can’t just be us. Not just me and Tasha.
I hope you’re in Hell, Costa.
Costa’s body was nearby, his handsome face now an uneven, bloody mess. Adam had killed a man. Did the firefighter trying to help him have any idea?
I just told him they’re all dead because of me.
He probably took that as a confession.
It was, but not for Costa’s death. For Katy and James.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” said Tasha. “You passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake back up. Then the fire brigade arrived.”
Adam looked over at the community centre. A fire engine had parked alongside it and a pair of firefighters were hosing down the roof. A whirl of black smoke billowed towards the sky, and flames flickered in every window, but luckily there were no adjacent structures that could catch fire. A part of the village’s history was burning down in front of them though, and there was something tragic about that.
Another death, in a way.
Adam decided not to dwell on it. He was alive and so was Tasha. “I’m glad you’re okay too,” he told her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I need a drink.”
Adam stared at her for a moment, and then exploded with laughter. Laughter that hurt his entire body as it rocked and heaved. He was still laughing when the ambulance and police cars turned up.
There would be a lot of explaining to do.
But it could wait.
It had been two weeks since the fire, and Adam had answered so many questions for so many different organisations that his throat hurt. Of course, it could be the damage caused by smoke inhalation.
The police had taken his statement several times over the last fortnight, mostly while he had lain in a hospital bed, and they always left a day or two between to see if his story changed. It didn’t. He told the truth the first time and stuck to it again and again until they stopped asking. Of course, he knew that Tasha would have given them the exact same narrative. They had been the victims of a psychotic spree killer, put to work by the father of Adam’s dead wife. It was the kind of thing usually found in fiction, but this time it was true. Eventually, the police had seen that truth and they had declined to press any formal charges. Adam had shot a man in the head and wasn’t being prosecuted for it. There was an odd sense of power in that.
Because I killed a man that was trying to kill others.
The paper had even called Adam heroic. He didn’t like that.
Tasha had declined to write any kind of story for the local – or national – papers but she said she would eventually write a book. She needed time to think first, to make sure she did the various characters justice. Adam could think of nothing worse than reliving it, so he had told her not to come to him for any interviews.
Today was Kevin’s funeral. His autopsy had revealed some home-brewed chemical in his system that the army nicknamed Vlad. It was restricted, but somehow Costa had known how to create the substance from base components. His weaponry had come from Katy’s father, who had used his police connections to buy them off the black market. The rifle had been a vintage Westley Richards, reactivated and upgraded to take homemade ammunition. He had also managed to procure a radio-frequency scanner from a high profile car-theft gang with a signal spoofer that allowed him to disable their car alarms and remove the batteries.
Once the police had made their investigations, Costa had been revealed to be a highly trained ex member of the Parachute Regiment and an expert marksman. He had applied for membership of the SAS but had been found mentally deficient when under extreme pressure. The rejection had caused his military career to deteriorate, resulting in a near fatal assault on a local civilian during weekend leave at home. He had been dishonourably discharged.
Adam’s father-in-law had reportedly become more and more withdrawn after his daughter’s death. No one could shed any light on his state of mind.
Sad. He was utterly and completely sad.
Because of me.
But there’s nothing I can do.
Adam was now one year and two weeks sober. He needed to find another group, but he intended to do so soon. The delay was mostly down to his nine-day hospital stay, where he had needed regular treatment to keep his various wounds from turning bad. He hoped Tasha would come with him when he finally found somewhere.
She was standing on the steps of the interment centre waiting for him as he exited the aisle. She was wearing a black dress, but her hair was down and she was wearing pink hoop earrings. There was bruising around her eye, but thanks to her dark skin, it was subtle. The depressed young woman he had met two weeks ago seemed to have gone, and she was smiling warmly at him. “That was a nice service, huh?”
Adam nodded. “Kevin was a good guy. Thanks for waiting, I was just talking with his wife.”
Tasha winced. “How is she?”
“As can be expected. I told her we all loved Kevin, but I don’t think she really wanted to speak with me. I suppose I can’t blame her.”
“I didn’t know if we should even have come today. I barely knew Kevin, but I was there at the end, you know? I wanted to say goodbye. Actually, that’s not true. I wanted to say sorry for not being able to help him.”
Adam put a hand on her back and moved her down the steps as people began to congregate behind her. “I’m sorry too. We have to remind ourselves that Costa is the one to blame though. Nothing that happened that night was our fault.”
Tasha nodded. They had met up a couple of times to talk during the last few days, mainly to unload on one another. They had gone for coffee each time, and the tone was friendly. Having gone through something terrible together, it had bonded them. Adam might even say they were friends.
“So how are you doing at the moment?” she asked him.
He shrugged and started limping towards the graveyard. “I’m not sleeping at night, and my stitches have started itching, but other than that I’m remarkably okay. I’m sad, obviously, but I feel stronger too. Glad to be alive, I suppose. That’s a new feeling for me.”
“I know what you mean. After surviving what we did, everything else just seems… easy. I feel like nothing will ever phase me ever again. Maybe it’s part of the shock.”
“Let’
s just take it one day at a time. The doctors said it’s a miracle I’m still walking.”
“Yeah, hey, speaking of which, do you need a lift home?”
Adam hadn’t been able to drive since getting out of hospital. His left elbow and both knees were bruised and stiff. “That would be great. I just need to do something f— Hey, I don’t believe it.”
John clacked along the path on a pair of crutches. Three beautiful blonde women walked with him, all wonderfully dressed. His wife and daughters, surely. When he saw Adam and Tasha, he lit up. “A sight for sore eyes.”
Adam grinned. “You’re telling me. I didn’t think you’d ever wake up.”
“I’ve been resting. I’ve earned it.”
Adam chuckled. John had been in a coma for the first few days on account of blood loss, but the marvellous doctors had brought him back and stabilised him. It hadn’t prevented him from being asleep, though, every time Adam had tried to visit.
“I’ve been battling with the surgeons to let me come home, but they won’t allow it yet. The best they agreed to was letting me out for a few hours each day. I’m sorry I missed this.”
“Kevin would be grateful that you made it here at all. Are you okay?”
“I’m in a maddening amount of pain, but hey, I don’t fancy a drink at all, so perhaps this will be a blessing.” His wife grunted and rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Oh, allow me to introduce you to my wonderful family.”
They all exchanged names and handshakes, and chatted for several minutes. John’s family was as lovely as he had always said it was. It made Adam jealous, but also joyful. There was more to the world than misery, even if he could only watch it from afar.
After the chatting faded, John used his crutches to stand directly in front of Adam. “We’re about to go and get lunch,” he said. “I would love the both of you to join us. My treat.”
Adam went to be polite and say no, but then he realised something from the way John was looking at him. His friend was asking him to go to lunch because he wanted to, not out of courtesy. “I’d be delighted, John.”
“Me too,” said Tasha.
Adam put up a hand. “Can I join you in the car park in five minutes? I just have to do something first.”
John nodded. “Of course.”
Adam headed further into the graveyard while the others took the path leading to the car park. After about fifteen metres, Adam stepped onto the grass and cut between the various tombstones until he found the one he wanted.
Katy & James French: Mother & Son
TOGETHER FOR ALL ETERNITY
PLACED HERE ON MARCH 3rd 2017
Adam knelt down and smiled. “Hi, I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”
Afterword
To find out how Tasha’s brother died, check out my companion novel, Dark Ride.
Get it here: DARK RIDE AMAZON
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Plea From the Author
Hey, Reader. So you got to the end of my book. I hope that means you enjoyed it. Whether or not you did, I would just like to thank you for giving me your valuable time to try and entertain you. I am truly blessed to have such a fulfilling job, but I only have that job because of people like you; people kind enough to give my books a chance and spend their hard-earned money buying them. For that I am eternally grateful.
If you would like to find out more about my other books then please visit my website for full details. You can find it at:
www.iainrobwright.com.
Also feel free to contact me on Facebook, Twitter, or email (all details on the website), as I would love to hear from you.
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Diary of a flummoxed father
Iain Rob Wright is one of the UK's most successful horror and suspense writers, with novels including the critically acclaimed, THE FINAL WINTER; the disturbing bestseller, ASBO; and the wicked screamfest, THE HOUSEMATES.
His work is currently being adapted for graphic novels, audio books, and foreign audiences. He is an active member of the Horror Writer Association and a massive animal lover.
www.iainrobwright.com
FEAR ON EVERY PAGE
For more information
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Copyright © 2019 by Iain Rob Wright
Editing by Richard Sheehan
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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