by Casey, Ryan
And then ran away.
“So that’s it, is it?” a voice said.
Curtis looked around. Saw Billy squaring up to him. Anger in his bloodshot eyes.
Billy was a bit of a troublesome cunt. But Curtis never expected him to stand up to him. Not openly like this anyway.
But right now, he looked like an annoying goddamned fly that wanted swatting down.
Curtis smiled back at Billy. “What’s the matter, champ?”
Billy gestured in the direction the kid went running. “We’re just lettin’ people go now?”
“The kid was sick. He won’t make it so far.”
“And that’s the problem,” Billy shouted. “What about actually helpin’ a few people round here for a change? ’Cause that kid. He didn’t do nothin’ wrong. It’s sick. All of this. It’s sick.”
Curtis looked around and saw the group glancing at him. He heard the whispers. Saw the uncertainty in their eyes. His face started to burn. His smile twitched, faltered.
’Cause these people.
These leachy cunts.
They were mocking him.
They were getting ideas above their station.
And he needed to do something about it.
He took another deep breath. Looked at Billy, smile across his face.
“You know what, Billy?”
Billy’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I never really liked you, anyway.”
Curtis lifted his pistol and fired at Billy.
Billy’s head lurched back. Blood spurted out of his cracked skull. He hit the road with a thud, twitched a few times, then went still. Bright red blood oozing from his head.
“Now listen,” Curtis said, raising his pistol. His face was on fire. Every inch of his composure felt like it was falling apart. “You don’t question me. Understand? You do not do a thing like that. We’re gonna go to Westfield. We’re gonna take that place. And we’re gonna settle down in a nice new home. But that means working together, hmm? It means no bullshit. So are we together on that? No bullshit, right?”
The people stared back at him. Some of them, afraid.
But this other look in the eyes of others.
Like… hate.
“Right?!” Curtis shouted.
“Right,” a few echoed back.
Curtis nodded. Lowered his pistol. “Good,” he said. “Damned good.” But it wasn’t damned good. His heart pounded at like, two-hundred goddamned beats per second. His face dripped sweat. His jaw kept on shaking, those ol’ teeth of his chattering away.
He’d lost his shit.
He looked down at Billy’s twitching dead body, and then up at the uncertain eyes of his followers.
“Then let’s get a goddamned move on,” Curtis said. “And let’s go give those Westfield fuckers a welcome to remember.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eddie saw Gregg hurtle towards him, and it all happened in a flash.
First, he threw himself off the hospital bed. Landed on the cold, hard floor with a crack to his head. He felt dizzy. Disoriented. And his shoulder where he’d been shot racked with agony.
He wanted to cry out. Wanted to scream for help.
But in that moment, in that flash, he knew he couldn’t. Because Gregg would come clean. He’d tell the truth about Eddie. Everything would fall apart.
But maybe that’s what he needed right now.
Maybe everything falling apart was what he needed.
But then he felt Gregg land on him. Press the knife to his neck.
And he knew this wasn’t the time to scream. It wasn’t the time to worm away.
It was time to fight.
He pushed back against Gregg’s hand, which pressed down, hard. The knife was so close he could feel it nicking his neck. Gregg’s breath was sour and hot on his face. He pinned Eddie down. Drooled thick saliva onto him.
A slight smile on his face like he knew he had the upper ground. Like he knew he had control of this situation. Total control.
Eddie went to punch Gregg’s face. But it was no use. That knife. So close.
And that crippling pain in his shoulder, making him light-headed, making him dizzy…
No!
He had to stay with it.
He had to hold on.
He couldn’t give up.
Not now.
“You’re a traitor, and you’re a worm,” Gregg said. “No wonder Curtis doesn’t trust you. But it ain’t personal. Honest. You’re just dirt that needs sorting out.”
The knife pushed harder against Eddie’s neck.
And then he saw something.
This man.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out… a syringe.
It looked loaded. Fully loaded with what looked like heroin.
“Should be enough to put you to sleep. Believe me … I don’t want to have to stab you here. Stabbing is messy. Leaves a lot of questions. But heroin… well. We can just pretend you died in your sleep, hmm?”
Eddie shuffled back. Tried to break free. Gregg held the knife hand against his mouth now, so tight that if he wanted to scream, he couldn’t.
Gregg lifted the syringe.
Placed it to Eddie’s throat.
“Don’t struggle. And don’t worry. It’ll be pain-free. Hell, it’ll probably be the most blissful damned moments of your life.”
He lowered the knife even further.
Moved the syringe to Eddie’s neck.
That’s when he knew he needed to act.
He headbutted Gregg. Hard. Square against the nose.
Felt the needle stick in his neck.
And then he yanked his head to the side.
Sent the syringe toppling to the other side of the room.
Gregg felt his face. Blood pooled from his nose. He looked at Eddie, renewed anger in his eyes.
“You’ll regret that, you fucking fat pig.”
And then he lunged for his knife.
Eddie went for it too. Their hands wrapped around it right on time.
Gregg punched Eddie.
Kicked him.
But Eddie kept holding on.
Through the pain.
Through the fear.
Through everything.
And then he felt Gregg bite his arm.
He let out a yelp.
Gregg punched him back. Then he lifted him. Propped him against his bed.
Hovered the knife over Eddie’s face.
He spat a blob of blood to the floor. “I’ll say you tried to kill me. I’ll tell them everything. And they’ll believe me. You know why? ’Cause they’re dumb. And people will listen to someone like me over someone like you. Always.”
Eddie saw the knife hover in the air.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said.
And then he lifted a foot and buried it into Gregg’s stomach.
He fell back.
Lost his balance, just for a second.
Eddie launched himself off the bed.
Landed on Gregg with his full weight.
Slammed his head against the floor repeatedly as Gregg tried to scratch, tried to punch, tried to claw his face and eyes.
Just kept on going. Kept on slamming.
Until his head cracked.
And kept on going still.
When he was sure Gregg was definitely dead, he stood up. Blood and brains trickling down his hands. Heart pounding. That chest pain that tortured him, time and time again, back to haunt him now.
But the least of his worries.
The least of his concerns.
He covered his face with his bloody hands, and he cried over the dead body of Gregg. And he knew one thing for certain. This wasn’t going to stop. This wasn’t going to end.
So he had to do something about it.
He had to act.
He got a pen and paper from the side of the room, and he wrote. He wrote through the tears. Wrote through the guilt. Wrote through the pain.
Wrote t
he most honest words he’d written in his life.
He put the note on the bed. Realised he was stabbed in a few places. His back. His arm. His stomach. Not bad. Not yet, anyway. But they could be. In time, they could be.
He put on a few makeshift bandages with his shaky hands.
Then he looked back at that note on the bed.
Hoped to God they found it, fast.
He went to turn away when he stopped.
The confessions in that note.
The admissions in there.
Was that the image he wanted to leave Kelly with?
Was that the father he wanted his son to grow up knowing about?
Or would it be better if he just disappeared into the night?
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He turned back. Grabbed the note. Tore it into pieces.
And before he could doubt or second-guess himself further, he turned. Left the medical bay. Walked out into the street, into the silent darkness of night.
And as he walked down that street, towards the gates, nobody around to stop him, he looked back.
He wanted to go say goodbye to Kelly. To Baby Edward.
He wanted to tell them how sorry he was for everything.
For what he was about to do.
He wanted to have the courage and the balls to stand here, right now, and admit it all. Admit it to their faces.
But he was a coward.
He was a worm.
And he only had one option left.
He took a deep breath. Clenched his teeth and his fists together.
And then he turned around, walked towards the fence, and out of this place.
Away from everything he’d been searching for.
Away from everything he cared about.
Like a worm returning to the ground when the rain subsided.
Gone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kelly walked towards the medical bay, Baby Edward in her arms, and couldn’t deny she felt strangely optimistic and happy about Eddie’s return.
It was a beautiful day. Warm. Peaceful. Birdsong filled the sky. That was something she’d really noticed about this spring. The birdsong, it was far louder than she remembered it being in the past. Maybe more birds were populating the world now. Or maybe she was just noticing it more these days.
She sounded like a fucking sap, and she knew it.
God. What the fuck would Jasmine think if she saw her now?
She walked down the street and smiled at Pritesh, who nodded back at her. He delivered milk for the residents, first thing. They had a good thing going here. Cows. Farming. Good food. Sustainability. Ready for the future.
And yet there was always that niggling sense, deep down, that something might arrive one day and threaten to take it all away.
She walked further down the street. She had to admit she was delighted to see Eddie, even if Sunil’s disappearance still kept her awake at night. Eddie was a good guy. A good listener. And he didn’t get the credit he deserved where that was concerned. From her especially.
Maybe things could be different now.
Maybe she could finally get a chance to let him be the father he so desperately wanted to be.
She pushed aside the fears in her mind. Her doubts over why Eddie had left in the first place. And also the fears Sunil had sparked in her when he’d left.
There’s something about him, Kelly. There’s a look in his eyes, and I don’t like it…
She shook her head and kept walking. Baby Edward cried and cooed in her arms. She shook him gently from side to side. Felt his warmth against her body.
“It’s alright, big man. We’re off to see your papa.”
She reached the door to the medical bay when she stopped.
There were people standing around it. Three people, all geared up in plastic coats.
Their hands were covered in blood.
And on a bed before them, there was a body.
Kelly froze. Her immediate thought was Eddie. He was dead. Something had happened to him. Something had…
And then she saw the body.
It wasn’t Eddie.
It was somebody else. A man she didn’t recognise. Dark hair. Thin. Greying.
It looked like his head had been smashed to pieces.
One of the people—Don—turned to Kelly. “Kelly? You don’t need—you need to see this.”
“What’s happening?”
“I can’t—I can’t explain. I just… Get your kid away from here. Ain’t no place for him.”
“Eddie.”
“What?”
“Where’s Eddie?”
“Who’s Eddie?”
“The guy who was in there. What’s happening, Don?”
Don just stood there. Shook his head. His eyes were wide. He looked pale. Exhausted.
“Kelly,” he said. “We need to get rid of this body. And then… and then we need to organise a meeting of some kind. If you could gather as many people in the square as possible, that’d be appreciated.”
“What’s happening?”
“There’s no time to explain,” he said. “I just… Just get people into the square. Now!”
Kelly stood there, Baby Edward in her arms. He was crying a lot louder now. Clouds were thickening overhead. It felt like something was on the horizon. Something was coming.
She didn’t know what was happening with Eddie.
What was happening with anybody.
Just that she needed to help out here.
She turned around and went to gather as many people as she could when she saw somebody over by the gates.
She frowned. Squinted.
When she looked closer, a shiver crept up her arms.
A red-haired boy walked towards them.
No… ran.
The closer she looked, the more she realised he was running.
She staggered over towards him. The guards on the gate were running around like mad, trying to get people together. They must’ve got a heads up about what was happening, too. About what was coming.
A mystery force.
A force she didn’t understand.
That she didn’t know about.
But this boy.
He was running.
His face was covered in blood.
He was naked.
And he was shouting something.
She walked closer to him. Behind, things were growing more out of control. More tension was growing. The wind getting stronger. The clouds getting thicker. The air getting cooler.
And this boy’s voice.
Drifting towards her.
Getting louder.
Getting…
She stopped when she heard it.
When she saw the fear in his bright, wide eyes.
“Get out of here!” he shouted. “Get away from here! They’re coming! They’re coming! Get away from here! It’s too late!”
She saw the fear in this kid’s eyes.
Goosebumps crept across her arms.
“Who?” she whispered to herself.
Baby Edward screaming in her arms.
“Get away! Get away! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for what happened! I’m…”
And then it all happened so fast.
A bullet cracked through the boy’s skull.
Sent him falling to the road.
Blood spurted out of his mouth.
He lay there.
Shaking.
Twitching.
Writhing around.
And up ahead, in the distance, Kelly saw something else.
Something that made every hair on her body stand on end.
There was a group.
A large group.
At least a hundred of them.
Standing there.
Staring at her.
Many of them armed.
Led by one man.
A big man. Ginger. Bulky. Tall. Taller than anyone she’d ever seen.
He stood there with his pistol in hand. A wid
e smile on his face.
Beside him, behind him, a crowd awaited.
He lifted a megaphone to his mouth and cleared his throat.
“Residents of Westfield, greetings! The name’s Curtis. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to tell you somethin’. Somethin’ you ain’t gonna wanna hear.”
He looked right into her eyes, and his manic smile widened.
“Today ain’t no normal day.”
He lifted his rifle.
The people around him lifted theirs.
“Today’s eviction day!”
And then he open fired on their home.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Noah saw the thick clouds hanging over the town ahead and felt a knot form in his stomach.
It was morning. They’d taken a rest by the side of the road last night. Taken turns at standing on guard. They were pretty confident nobody was coming, at least not yet. And if somebody did come, they’d push on immediately. Warn the community.
But the truth was, he and Zelda were both in a bad way. They were both injured. They had to be careful. Rest was important.
But it was morning, now. They walked down the road towards the community. Passed the usual abandoned cars. Crunched over broken glass. Saw skeletons lining the sides of the roads, stripped of their flesh by the crows and the dogs. There was an eerie sense of quiet today. Noah knew he’d probably just grown used to being trapped inside that shipping container, forgotten what it was like out here. But he couldn’t deny it. It felt like they were standing on the brink of something. Staring into the abyss.
There was an urgency to this entire situation. A sense deep within that they couldn’t hold back. Not anymore.
But as Noah walked, puppy under his arms, his body achy and weak, his stomach churning after the rabbit Zelda had caught this morning, the smell of sourness from inside that container still clinging to his nostrils, he couldn’t get one thing in particular out of his head.
Eddie.
He hoped Eddie had already done the right thing. He hoped he’d warned them about what was coming. After all, he’d killed Marky and that guy Sunil for Kelly.
Maybe it was awful. No doubt about it.
But maybe Eddie did that because he thought it was the best chance to cut ties with the past. To start afresh.
He knew how Eddie worked. He wasn’t as weak as he thought he was—as anyone thought he was.
He’d survived this far. And that wasn’t by accident.