“River--” Travis tried.
“And you’re still defending her after what she’s done to you. I’ve thought you were a lot of things over the years, Travis, but a pushover wasn’t one of them.”
When Scarlett let herself in through the front door, she could hear Quinlan talking to Hope. She snuck up the stairs to the open bedroom door. He cradled James in one arm and held a book in his free hand. He stopped reading when he noticed Scarlett in the doorway.
“That was some pep-talk,” he laughed. “If your intention was for Hope not to hear, it didn’t work. Your voice carries.”
“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she smiled. “I think the rest of us are going to leave soon, while everything is still fresh in their minds. I need them riled up. There’s some expressed feeds in the fridge for James, and Hope will eat pretty much anything. Make sure she drinks too, she tends to forget.”
“Scarlett, we’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” She nodded and held out a pistol, “Take this. With any luck you won’t have to use it.” Trying not to well up, Scarlett crouched next to Hope, “I’ll be back really soon, sweetheart. I love you, you hear me?”
“I hear you, Mama.”
Scarlett kissed her children goodbye and left to find a very late Riley.
Outside, she approached Riley’s tent which was tucked away near the gate. She noticed the zips were open and entered as she spoke.
“Knock, knock, Riley. You’re going to miss breakf--”
She was cut short by the scene she was faced with. Riley’s belongings were strewn across the floor, his camping bed upturned, and his weapons abandoned. The groundsheet was wet, and Scarlett squatted down to investigate. She ran her fingers through the liquid and her breath caught in her throat on seeing that it was red.
Immediately, she turned and made for the food tent. On her way past the weapon table, she helped herself to an automatic rifle, slinging it over her shoulder. When she made it to the table, she was seething with fury.
“Get your shit together,” she demanded. “We’re leaving right now; they’ve taken Riley.”
“What?” Jack shouted.
“The Headhunters have taken Riley; there’s blood inside his tent.” Everyone continued to stare at her, and she could feel her fear and rage bubbling to the surface, “Jack, Chino, Mouse, River; get the fuck up, get your weapons and go to your vehicles.” They immediately stood and began to assemble themselves to leave, even River. Scarlett followed, shouting to Piper as she made for the cars, “I suggest you incite your people.”
“You heard her, guys. Get the hell up and do as she says!”
Jack stood alongside his car with a hand on the door handle. Travis’ reflection in the window drew him from his murky thoughts.
“He’s gonna be okay.”
“How the fuck do you know that?” Jack spat, spinning around. He was inches from Travis’ face, and Travis was standing his ground, “It’s not like you even give a shit what happens to Riley. You’ve got no right to talk about him after what you did.”
“Maybe I don’t give a shit,” Travis countered, “but Scarlett does. So, I’m goin’ and I’m gonna make sure he’s okay. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve saved his ass.”
“You’d better watch your mouth, Travis.”
Jack’s hand was resting on his holstered pistol when Scarlett stormed over to them both. She positioned one hand on each of them at chest height and pushed them apart.
“Jesus, I can practically smell the testosterone,” she scolded. “Save your chest beating for Grey.”
“I’m sorry, Foxy, but this whole mess could’a been avoided. Things could have been different. And I’m not pointing any fingers, but--”
“Good. Because I’ll break them,” Scarlett interrupted. “We can talk about why this is all my fault later. The three of us are up front.”
Travis followed her to the green estate, and Scarlett threw her rifle on the passenger seat.
“It’s not too late, Scar. You can stay with the kids and no one’s gonna think any less of you.”
“No, I can’t. I’d like to pretend that I’m going to save Homeside, but it’s personal. And now they’ve taken one of ours… I’m going. Besides, with Riley gone, the others are looking to me. What kind of leader would I be if I decided to stay?”
“Alright. Well, I’ve got your back.”
“You ready?”
“I was born ready, sweetheart.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Riley slid his eyes open to complete blackness. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth and the back of his head was throbbing. He knew that he was sitting down, and that his hands were tied behind him. He could feel people watching him. And then he heard Grey’s voice.
“I think our sleeping beauty’s finally awake.”
In one motion, Riley was hoisted violently to his feet and the fabric bag was removed. A large man stood to his right, holding on to Riley’s arm to keep him from falling down. Grey was on his left, smiling.
“Good news, Riley. You’re this evening’s entertainment. You look as though you’ve already had a hell of a time,” he jeered, inspecting Riley’s battered face.
Studying his surroundings, Riley observed that he was standing on a platform. Ahead of him stood a mob of Grey’s people, all eagerly watching their leader speak. The raspy noise of Roamers finally reached Riley’s ears and looking down he counted five, huddled together, hungrily reaching up for him with open mouths. They were bunched together in a dugout pit, and it was then that Riley realised his fate.
“The people at Homeside think they’re nice and safe in their cosy little home. They think they can fight us off and we’ll just back down,” he chuckled and looked at Riley. “But they’re very, very wrong. You see, unfortunately for those little pricks, I’ve been chatting to a Scarlett McKenzie.” Grey turned to address his people again, “We all have so much to thank Miss McKenzie for. Without her, most of you wouldn’t have found us,” he said proudly. He paced the width of the platform while Riley continued to look for a way out. “She is the reason I know that they’re arrogant enough to wait for us to come knocking, and that the stupid fuckers think some extra wood and nails are going to stop us kicking down the door… I’m not usually one for emotion, but after spending time with Scarlett a few weeks ago, and from the contact we’ve had more recently, I’ve decided to keep her alive. She knows that we’re attacking and will be waiting for me. If any one of you fuckers lays a finger on her, I will feed you to the dead.” He threw an arm around Riley’s shoulders, “Which is exactly the reason this asshole is here.”
“I’d never hurt her--”
Riley was cut off by a whack to the face. Grey’s smile had faded and there was a maniacal look in his eyes as he grabbed Riley by the hair, pulling his head back.
“But I know what you did to my home,” he spat. “That’s why you’re here, my friend. You’re here so that I can simultaneously send a message to both mine and your people. The message that Homeside didn’t seem to get when we burned the forest to ash. That really pissed me off; we used the last of our fuel supply for that shit. Those dead bastards in the pit are the men who left me for dead at the base. When they’ve made a mess of you, we’ll kindly deliver you back to Homeside as a taster of what’s to come for each and every one of them.”
Grey nodded to the man on Riley’s right and he reached above him. He pulled down a length of rope and slipped it over Riley’s head, tightening it around his neck.
“So, any last words, Riley?” Grey sneered.
In the distance, Riley could clearly make out three extremely familiar silhouettes. Scarlett, Travis and Jack were crouched in the shrubbery, and Jack was taking aim with his rifle.
“Yeah,” Riley smirked, “you’re all fucked.”
Jack pulled the trigger, sending a .50 calibre bullet slicing through the air, coming to rest between the eyes of the would-be hangman and sending a spray of blood over Riley’s c
heek.
Grey began desperately searching the horizon for the shell’s source. When he couldn’t find it, he sharply propelled Riley forward, dropping him off the end of the platform. The rope was short, and Riley came to an abrupt stop, dangling over the pit. He felt the rope tighten around his neck and a blast of primal terror filled every fibre of his being as he flailed and twitched, wishing earnestly that his hands were not tied. He tried to scream and get the attention of his friends, but the twine was crushing his windpipe.
Bearing witness but being so far away, Scarlett released a visceral scream, like a pained animal. When she caught a breath she was disorientated, and she shrieked as she began running, “Riley!”
The Roamers below Riley began hissing impatiently, grasping messily at his boots. He tried to kick them away, but his movements only served to choke him more. They tore at his shoes until they twisted their way off his feet, and the creatures were finally capable of clawing at his flesh. The largest of them wasted no time, sinking its foul teeth into Riley’s ankles.
He could hear Jack’s cries as he approached, desperately trying to shoot the rope. In his panicked state, he couldn’t hit it, and Riley’s vision started to wane. Everything was fading to black and the sounds around him were distorted and muffled. Nothing even hurt anymore. He was suddenly overcome by dizziness and fatigue. He was aware that he was being chewed on, but the asphyxiation was taking its toll and Riley was fading rapidly.
Scarlett fired the flare gun and discarded it, desperately trying to keep up with Jack, and followed closely by Travis. They both opened fire on Grey’s men; most of them couldn’t draw their own weapons fast enough to retaliate before they were gunned down.
Grey jumped down behind the platform and ran toward his building, shutting himself inside. Travis noticed. He glanced around to see the rest of Homeside’s residents catching up and, barging his way through the throngs of men and women trying to kill him, he ran after their illusory leader.
Scarlett continued to unload and reload her rifle, over and over until she was out of clips. Turning around, she saw Chino coming to her aid. Casting-off her rifle in favour of the pistols she was better acquainted with, she sustained her slaughter while Chino dangled a bag of ammunition over her shoulder.
Approaching Grey’s building, Travis reloaded his rifle before leading inside with the butt firmly against his shoulder and his finger poised on the trigger.
It was a dingy little squat. There was still power, but the halogen lights hanging from the ceiling guttered every few seconds, giving the corridor Travis had just stepped into an ominous feel.
Travis’ arms stayed rigid as he checked every open doorway, barrel first. A sudden crash stemming from the other end of the hallway caught his attention. Afraid that Grey might escape, Travis lowered his weapon and ran toward the sound. He found himself in a begrimed old kitchen and caught a brief glimpse of Grey as he left the building, slamming the door. Travis noticed that he had left his radio behind on the counter, meaning that he couldn’t call for help. This was his chance. Travis hung his rifle across his body by the strap and sprinted toward the door.
Finally out of ammo and admitting to herself that she should have been more conservative, Scarlett discarded her pistols and drew her axes. Chino covered her against gunfire while she waited for those of Ethan’s people who were without firepower to come to her. She demonstrated her impressive combat skills, driven by her need to get to Jack, who was desperately trying to reach Riley. Each time her axe made contact with the flesh of Ethan’s people, she released all the pent-up rage, with the assertion that neither she nor her family would ever be controlled again.
Chino moved forward, allowing Scarlett to follow behind. The people trying to kill her were a mix of faces that she recognised and ones she didn’t. As she thought about it, trying to remember the names of those she did recognise, she could hear someone calling her name. She turned toward the voice just in time to see Corporal Perry running at her with malice in his face and a knife in his hand.
She didn’t have a chance to raise her weapon before Perry’s head exploded, spraying Scarlett with its contents. She used her shirt to wipe away what she could, trying her best not to gag. When she looked back, her father, Colin was standing in front of her, his face awash with shock and his shotgun still pointed in Scarlett’s direction. He slowly lowered it and Scarlett smiled at him.
“Thanks, Dad.”
Once he thought he was close enough, Travis launched himself at Grey, knocking him to the ground. They both landed on the tarmac with exasperated grunts and began tackling each other. Travis managed to roll Grey onto his back and, for the first time since he learned the name of his family’s new enemy, he got a glimpse of his face. He stopped his assault and his brow furrowed.
“You?” he uttered disbelievingly. “You’re Ethan Grey?”
“You have got to be shitting me,” Grey chortled through bloodied lips. “I remember you. How’ve you been?”
Travis was quickly prevented from raising his fist again when Grey slyly pulled out a pistol and held it to Travis’ temple. Defeated, he stood and Grey followed suit.
“I should’a killed you,” Travis growled.
“Yeah, I suppose you should have. But you were too concerned with your little girl seeing something she’s probably going to grow up seeing and doing anyway. Seems silly now, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t talk about my daughter--”
“That is if she does grow up. Just a wild guess, but she’s at Homeside, yes?” he smirked. “As soon as you attacked, some of my men made off for Homeside.” Travis tried to move, knowing he at least needed to let the others know; maybe send some people back to help, but Grey’s gun was in his face again. He’d had a sudden realisation: “Your spawn; she’s not called Hope, is she?”
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”
Travis’ defiance, although commendable, was unsuccessful. His face had answered the question for him.
“So, you’re Travis.” Grey looked him up and down disapprovingly, “You’re what the fuss was all about? That must mean that the other little brat belongs to you too, huh?” Leaning closer, Grey smiled madly, “Or is it Riley’s?” Travis looked away. “Oh, so you do know about their little fumble then? Is that why Riley looked like he’d been trampled by a buffalo? They thought I wouldn’t notice, but I’m not a moron. Their faces said it all. And in my fucking bed! Who knows how long that had been going on? Sorry to spoil your day, Travis, but your progeny are mine now. I haven’t decided what to do with them yet. It’s pretty likely they’ll be killed, right next to their whore of a mother for betraying me.”
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Travis launched into an attack. He swung a punch as hard as he could, knocking Grey off balance. Grey tried to strike back with a bullet, but missed. Travis took the opportunity to knock the gun out of his hand, and it fell to the floor, sliding along the wet asphalt. The two men grappled each other, throwing messy punches and yelling unintelligibly as they did so.
Grey shunted Travis backward and dropped to his knees. He made a grab for his firearm and quickly stood again, with the gun held at arm’s length.
“You were so right, Travis,” he said. “You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
Grey cocked the weapon but was surprised to see Travis smiling back at him.
“I could say the same thing about you, Ethan,” Scarlett said.
She stood behind him with the revolver she’d taken from Grey’s desk pointed at the back of his head.
“Scar,” Ethan trembled, his hands above his head, “you can’t kill me. We were going to make a future together.”
“Are you talking about the time you tried to persuade me to abandon my son, or the time I was playing you, you dumb fuck?”
“Oh, you bitch.”
“From where I’m standing, Ethan, it’s you who looks like the bitch.” He tried to speak again, but she cut him off before any sound came out, �
�You made me kill three innocent people. I was almost willing to leave my son and stop looking for my daughter because I was taken in by your lies and manipulation. And as if that wasn’t enough, you had to go and murder my best friend. The worst part is, I’m not actually sure if he is dead. He’s probably somewhere in between dead and alive. He could have been saved, if it weren’t for the fucking Roamers.”
“And I’m sorry, Scarlett,” he pleaded. “Please, put the gun--”
Grey was interrupted by the butt of his own revolver striking him hard in the face.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not helpless anymore. I’m not weak, and I am positively not a whore. But you… you are calculating, emotionless and nauseating. I’ve come across Roamers that are less repulsive than you, and boy have I seen some gnarly ones. You put those people on their knees when you made me shoot them, remember that?”
“Scarlett, you know that was just--”
“Get down on the floor, you slimy motherfucker.”
He sighed, “We don’t have to d--”
“Get on your fucking knees!” she screamed.
Slowly, he complied, “I know you don’t wanna kill me. You jus--”
“Shut up,” she stood above him, sneering.
“Now, now, I let you talk, remember? Seems only fair.”
“Was forcing me to kill innocent people fair? Was trying to kill me and my son fair? Was Riley’s death fair, Ethan?” she growled.
“You know life isn’t fair anymore, Scarlett. But listen, I know exactly what you want. It’s written all over your face whether you like it or not. You want to be a big part of this, don’t you? You’re expecting some kind of grand scheme with you playing right in the centre, isn’t that it? What, you’re going to kill me and take over the Headhunters? You think you’re the underdog, the Joker of the pack, the queen on the chessboard. You ever played chess?”
“... Don’t.”
“You know how it works, right? You got your kings, your queens, your rooks, your knights, and your bishops. Each one of them is important if you want to capture the king. But we’re missing something, aren’t we, McKenzie? We’re missing the pawns. The disposable pieces. You won’t curse and swipe the board off the table if you lose one of those. See, there are so many others that you lose track.”
Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope. Page 23