“So I’m a pawn, is that right?”
“That’s right,” he confirmed. “You were never as important as you think. You were a convenience; collateral damage. Someone to have at my side that could die in my place.”
“Then I guess I know a little more about how the game is played. Because when the pawn moves to the end of the board... You know what happens, right? It’s a little something called ‘promotion’. So, I’m a pawn, and I’ve reached the other side. Now, I can change. I can be a rook, a bishop...”
“Scarlett--”
“A queen.”
Grey’s fear faded and he began sniggering derisively.
“Somethin’ funny, asshole?” Travis probed indignantly.
“She can talk the talk, Travis, I’ll give her that,” he replied, “but it would appear that she can’t walk the walk without being ordered to.”
“Excuse me?” Scarlett interjected.
“Come on, Scarlett. If you were going to do it, you’d have done it by now. And are you going to gun me down after spewing all that shit about the others you killed? Do you really want to go down that road again?”
Scarlett thought for a moment. Maybe Ethan was right.
“Scarlett might not,” Travis said, taking the knife from his belt, “but it don’t bother me.” He started to approach Ethan.
But no. Scarlett held her arm out to stop Travis when a sudden anger flashed in her eyes. Hatred. Burning hatred for this man who had made her vulnerable; weak. She was not about to let him influence her actions again. Her lips curled into a snarl, her features contorting into disgust in its purest form at this smug man who thought he had it all worked out. Who’d used her as a fucking pawn and tried to sacrifice her and her son without the barest hint of remorse.
“Or maybe not,” Grey realised, pursing his lips.
“No. I’m not letting you go, Sergeant Major Grey,” she purred. “But why should Travis have all the fun?”
With that, Ethan’s face was filled with fear and trepidation again. Scarlett raised her weapon one more time and held it to Grey’s brow.
“Scarlett--”
“What kind of person would I be if I let you go after everything you’ve done?”
“Merciful?” he offered.
“I won’t tolerate shit from fucks like you anymore. Not ever. I am a chaotic, hell-raising, merciless bitch. I can be cold and cruel and I can be your worst fucking nightmare. You know why? Because I am a mother. I want rid of scumbags like you. I want to go home and hold my children and tell them that the only monsters they have to worry about are the ones who can’t use weapons. I want to help to reassemble civilisation, starting with Homeside. I want to know that my friends are safe and looked after. I want to know that none of the people I love are going to go hungry again. I want that. And all those things I want? You tried to take those away from me.”
“McKenzie, please--”
She aimed the pistol between his eyes.
“Looks like you were right; I did learn to enjoy these moments. Now, go fuck yourself, you son of a bitch.”
There was no hesitation. She didn’t flinch when she pulled the trigger, and she kept her eyes fixed on Ethan when his head shot back and then forward with the force of the bullet. She watched his lifeless body fall to its knees and then onto its front. It was only then that she realised she had been holding her breath. She gave a heavy sigh; one which told Travis that it was safe to approach her.
Replacing the knife in his belt, he closed the space between them, stepping over Grey’s body in the process. He placed his palms on her cheeks, drawing her attention from what she’d done, and making her focus on his eyes. He could see what was happening to her and knew that he couldn’t let it continue. She reached up to hold his forearms and smiled up at him, grounding herself in his eyes. She couldn’t lose herself again.
“You okay?” he rumbled.
“I’m good. We need to get back to Homeside. I’d love to think he was bluffing, but we can’t risk it.”
Riley had a distinct, deep furrow in his neck, accompanied by some abrasions and contusions, left by the rope that had taken his life. He was still; lying on the cold ground, his head inclined slightly to the right, and his face pale and very slightly swollen. Jack knelt to his side, unable to process his departure.
Travis and Scarlett were working on dragging River’s body out of the ditch after she’d clearly made a desperate attempt to save Riley. They looked at each other hopelessly after both observing her ripped flesh. She was gone, and it was only a matter of time before she was back. As heartless as it seemed, they tried not to focus on who they’d lost. There would be plenty of time for that when it came to digging their graves. At that moment, they were concentrating on what Ethan had told them. They would help recover River’s body and head straight back to Homeside to protect the people they had left.
After placing River next to Riley, Scarlett crouched down beside Jack. She observed Riley lying dead on the ground. His tongue was protruding from his mouth and Scarlett used a sleeve to gently wipe away his trickling saliva.
She noticed the sound of Jack’s muffled whimpers and put an arm around him. Scarlett’s sympathy seemed to open the floodgates, and Jack leant on her, holding on to her arm while the tears lingering in the corners of his eyes finally rolled their way down his cheeks. Scarlett placed her axe on the ground to wrap her other arm around him in a comforting, maternal embrace. She stroked his hair while he sobbed into her chest, doing her best not to crumble with him. Travis appeared at her side and she knew she had to go.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I need to get to Homeside. I’ll come back for you, I swear… for all of you.”
Scarlett felt Jack nod weakly and she released him, getting to her feet.
She only made it three feet or so when Jack’s quaking voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Scarlett…” he sobbed.
Spinning around, Scarlett’s heart sank on seeing Jack holding Riley by his shoulders, pinning him down. His open eyes and snapping jaws made Scarlett’s breath catch in her throat.
Scarlett acted briskly. Taking Travis’ hunting knife from his belt, she knelt opposite Jack and placed her free hand lovingly across Riley’s forehead, using those few seconds to take one last look into his brown eyes. She was horrified to see, now that they were open, bulging red capillaries instead of whiteness around his irides.
She wished he was blind like the first ones. Staring down at him, Scarlett still saw the man who’d taken her and Jimmy in when they were most in need. She still saw her best friend; her ally; the man who’d pulled her back from the brink of insanity and delivered her son. She couldn’t bare it any longer. As swiftly, but softly as she could, she slid the blade up through the soft spot behind Riley’s ear.
Once again, he stopped moving. His eyes sagged closed and he looked peaceful. After retracting the knife, Scarlett wiped it slowly across her thigh, freeing the blade of Riley’s blood.
Sitting back on her heels, her gaze drifted to Jack. She’d never seen him like that before. The hard-faced, selfish man that she’d always known him to be was no more. He was broken; shaking with grief. Scarlett leant in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before she stood.
She flinched when a hand rested on her shoulder. Turning around, she once more saw that look that she was so familiar with. Piper’s face depicted that sad, sympathetic, pitying expression. The same stare she received from Riley with monotonous regularity.
“Scarlett, I’m--”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “I don’t want your condolences; they’re no good to me. I want you to help me. Get my friend’s bodies on a vehicle and send whoever’s still standing back to Homeside.”
“Of course,” she nodded.
As Scarlett and Travis made their way back to the vehicles, Piper knelt with Jack to discuss transporting Riley and River. She knew that River would be the next to turn, but she could see just
how broken Jack was, and wanted him to be aware that she would have to be put down, and to decide who would do it.
Picking up their pace, Scarlett and Travis helped themselves to more ammunition from the truck and loaded their weapons before each mounting a motorcycle. Travis looked at Scarlett as she shakily tried to start her bike up. She smiled at him, but her eyes were flecked with guilt, grief, worry and rage all at once.
“Hey,” Travis grunted, “they’ll be okay. Quinlan ain’t gonna let them down.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“Yeah. Well, I got to know him. And if nothin’ else, he’d have me to answer to if anythin’ happened to those kids.”
Scarlett took a deep breath and tried the ignition once more. It spluttered into life with a roar along with Travis’ and they raced back toward their children.
Barely a mile from Homeside, Travis suddenly sped up. He’d spotted a vehicle ahead of them. He knew that it was the soldiers who’d been sent to kill the remaining residents. Scarlett matched his speed, attempting to free the pistol from her boot ready to fire while her hair whipped her in the face.
As they neared the car, she fired a single shot through the back window to get their attention. The driver slammed the brakes on and came to a screeching halt, and Scarlett and Travis had no choice but to do the same.
“Be ready for a fight,” Travis said, dismounting his bike and taking hold of his rifle.
Someone began firing from the passenger side, forcing Scarlett and Travis to dodge the bullets, distracting them from a woman climbing out of the driver’s seat. It was Chloe.
Gathering her wits, Scarlett suddenly recognised the difference in her from the first time they met; when Chloe was running for her life toward the base.
“Chloe,” she tried, “you don’t need to do this.”
“Shut up, McKenzie,” she countered, pointing her weapon at Scarlett’s head. “You wanted this as much as Sergeant Major Grey. I’m just following orders.”
“Grey is dead, Chloe! I killed him because he was threatening my children and my friends, and that’s exactly what he sent you to do.”
“Bullshit. Homeside are the enemy.”
“Are my kids the enemy? An infant and a four-year-old? The Roamers are the enemy. That’s what the Headhunters were supposed to be--”
Scarlett’s negotiating was cut short by Travis opening fire on Chloe, seemingly unconvinced that she would change her mind. Scarlett didn’t have time to think about what he’d done before she was being attacked by the vehicle’s other occupant, Cane. He ran at her with a knife, but Travis grabbed him before he got close enough to hurt her.
Cane span around, leading with his knife-wielding arm, and connected with Travis’ face. His other arm followed, shunting Travis in the chest and knocking him to the ground. His head collided with the tarmac with such force that it bounced a couple of inches. He didn’t attempt to stand, and Scarlett assumed the worst.
“No! Travis!” she screamed. As much as she wanted to run to him and make sure he was okay, she still had to take care of Cane, “Cane, please. I have to check that he’s alright.”
“Why? He just killed Chloe.”
“Please, Cane, I’m begging you! I need to know if he’s alive.” She threw her weapon down in surrender and held up her hands. Cane continued to advance on her.
“McKenzie, you started this. You can’t back out now.”
Scarlett’s gaze remained fixed on Travis, willing him to move. He didn’t, and her anticipatory tears came in torrents while she tried to concentrate on dealing with his killer.
“I never wanted people to die, Cane. You have to believe me,” she sobbed. “Grey was out of control. He lied to us. He wanted Homeside, and he wanted the people that live there dead. They haven’t done anything wrong.”
He remained unconvinced. Holding his knife at Scarlett’s chest height, he ran at her. Scarlett had no time to grab for an axe, and she instinctively protected herself with her forearms.
She heard the rasp of fabric ripping and felt a searing pain along her left arm. A struggle ensued; each of them fighting for control over the blade. Scarlett fell onto her back and Cane followed. There was odium in his eyes as they grappled for the knife. Realising that it was more of a danger than it was worth, Scarlett took it out of the equation. Using all the strength she had, she managed to switch places with him, straddling him on the road; pinning him in place.
She grabbed at Cane’s wrist and slammed his hand against the tarmac, again and again, until he dropped the weapon. Full of rage and desperate to see to Travis, she put her hands to his throat and began to squeeze. He clawed at her arms and kicked his legs; frantic and trying to free himself. The more he struggled, the harder Scarlett gripped, pushing her weight down on his neck. With her teeth bared and her eyes locked with Cane’s, Scarlett watched the life leave him. His body became limp, eyes bulging and bloodshot.
When she was sure he was dead, she scrambled to her feet and ran to Travis. He hadn’t moved, and Scarlett could barely see his face for blood.
“Travis! Travis, please don’t be dead.”
Removing her jacket, she wiped his face and discovered that the blood was coming from a gash running the length of his cheek.
She was quickly transported back to the day that Jimmy died. The image of someone she loved unresponsive on the ground, her hands warm with blood. She was adamant that this was not how Travis’ life would end. Calming herself as much as possible, she laid a hand on his chest. He was breathing. Her relief was short-lived by the realisation that they were in the open, and they were vulnerable to Roamers.
“Travis!” she screamed, sending a swift palm across the intact side of his face.
Scarlett took hold of his shoulders and shook him, shrieking his name, until finally, his brow furrowed and his eyes slid open. More liquid trickled from Scarlett’s eyes; this time tears of relief, and Travis smiled up at her.
“What’s with all the yellin’, woman?”
“Fuck, I thought you were gonna die,” she bawled, dropping her head to his chest.
“Nah, I was just restin’ my eyes. I feel like shit though.”
Scarlett helped him to his feet and retrieved her pistol, and they mounted their bikes again.
“They wouldn’t have sent just two. They were a distraction; we were supposed to catch up with them.”
Homeside’s main gate lay fragmented on the ground, and a vehicle covered in large splinters told Scarlett and Travis how the breach had occurred.
They could hear gunfire over the roaring of their engines and neither of them waited for their vehicle to come to a complete stop before dismounting.
Fast and vigilant, they followed the sound toward the main building with their weapons ready to fire.
A window on the first floor lit up with each shot as the pair cautiously entered. A woman lay at the bottom of the stairs, writhing in pain from the bullet holes that littered her body. She grabbed for her weapon when she saw Travis approaching, but before she could turn it on him, he fired a single shot into her head.
Scarlett yanked him out of the way as another body came tumbling down the stairs. A few moments of silence were followed by footsteps moving along the landing. They waited. When Quinlan appeared; a rifle held loosely in his hands and his face glistening with sweat, they dropped their weapons and ran to him.
“Where are the kids?” Scarlett asked desperately.
“Piper…” Quinlan panted, “she used the radio. I knew they were coming, so I distracted them. Hope and James are hidden in the bathroom in your cabin.”
“You made these sorry pricks think that you had them up here?” Travis asked.
Quinlan nodded, still trying to catch his breath. Travis held out his right hand and Quinlan took it.
“Thank you.”
Scarlett pulled him into a hug and whispered in his ear, “I think you’ve redeemed yourself.”
“Oh, thank god you’re back!” Kate was p
eering out of a bedroom. She looked like she’d been sobbing. “Let us check you both over.”
“I’ll go and sit with Hope and James,” Quinlan said, making his way down the stairs.
Scarlett and Travis entered the make-shift doctor’s room where Kate and Henry were set up. Scarlett sat down in front of Henry and presented her arm while Travis perched on a chair in front of Kate.
“Why’d you have to go and get your face slashed, Travis? I feel under unnecessary pressure to be neat with the stitches.”
“That’s why I ain’t sitting in Henry’s chair.”
“You cheeky bastard,” Henry chuckled. “I always preferred Scarlett anyway.”
“Any idea how deep it is before I start cleaning you up?” Kate asked, preparing a clean cloth with an unknown liquid.
“I don’t know. Can’t be too deep, but I hit my head pretty good when I fell. I’ll be honest, Doc, I feel like I’ve been on the moonshine.”
“Alright. I’ll check for a head injury as soon as I’ve dealt with this. I can’t see the extent of the damage for all this blood.”
Without warning, Kate began cleaning the gash on Travis’ face. He winced and did his best to remain still, but the sting made him nauseous.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is that?” he growled.
“Sorry, T. It’s salt, vinegar and water. None of our antibiotics are good anymore, so we have to improvise.”
With their wounds sutured and painkillers consumed, Scarlett and Travis made their way to their cabin to be with their children. They were sleeping, oblivious to the evening’s events.
Travis showered and changed his clothes while Scarlett waited by the window for any sign that the others were back. It wasn’t long before Kate and Vaughan appeared outside. They were emptying the laundry tent in silence.
Minutes later, a truck pulled onto the grass. Piper and Chino were sitting up front and the flatbed was covered with a tarp.
Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope. Page 24