by Casey, Ryan
He liked the idea of this. It worked for him. ’Cause Barney wouldn’t judge him. Barney wouldn’t hold the past against him.
But he looked into Barney’s eyes, and he felt a familiar feeling.
Guilt.
He wouldn’t be able to look at Barney without remembering what he’d done.
Without remembering those he’d left behind.
And then it clicked.
In a flash, in a sudden, desperate flash, it clicked.
A dangerous thought.
The sun bursting through the clouds of confusion that’d hung over him for so, so long.
Maybe I don’t have to walk away.
He stood up. Turned around. Back the way he’d come from.
His heart raced.
His breathing picked up.
He felt anxious, still. Excited, still.
But there was something else there now.
A sense of optimism.
A sense of hope.
He couldn’t take back the things he’d done.
He couldn’t turn the clock back and change the past.
That guilt could haunt him.
Or it could fuel him.
It could charge him.
It could help him with what he knew he had to do.
He stood there in the woods. Looked back in the direction he’d come.
Back towards Kelly’s place.
Back towards the place he knew Curtis could be heading to, any moment.
And then he took a deep breath.
“Come on, Barney,” he said. “Let’s go do the right thing. Let’s go save our people.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kelly heard the rattle of gunfire and spun around immediately.
She clutched Baby Edward in her arms. Ran through the streets. Clouds thickened overhead. Rain speckled down. She saw people running past her. A few of them armed. But not with any kind of major firepower. A few rifles, a few pistols, that kind of thing.
And she wanted to stand by them. She wanted to fight with them.
But her priority was Baby Edward.
Getting him somewhere safe.
Staying with him.
She saw a few people standing there. A woman in a flowery dress called Janet. Two kids beside her, Mark and Pete, looking wide-eyed as Kelly raced through the street.
“We need to go!” she shouted. “Off the street! Get to shelter! Now!”
Janet opened her mouth to reply to her.
And then her face exploded.
A bullet connecting with it.
Blood splattering everywhere.
Mark and Pete cried, screamed.
More bullets peppered from behind.
Those people getting closer. Even closer than Kelly thought they were.
And those bullets, so close to her.
She needed to get off the road.
She needed to get to safety.
She needed to get Baby Edward to—
A scratch across her right arm.
She looked down.
Saw her jumper had torn.
A burning graze across her skin.
Blood.
Fuck. She’d been shot. Or just narrowly missed. But that was too close. Too fucking close.
She didn’t want to look back, but she found herself turning around.
And when she turned around, she couldn’t help freezing.
There were so many of those people.
A hundred of them.
Many of them were armed with rifles, kitted out way, way better than her or her people.
Her people scrambled to the gates. Tried to fire back, but fell, one by one, like dominoes.
And there was a problem, too. These people. They were sending a group of women and kids through first. Using them as some kind of human shield, making the people of Westfield more reluctant to open fire.
One thing was for sure.
One thing was absolutely clear.
This was a massacre.
Whoever these people were, they weren’t holding back.
She felt another bullet whizz past and pulled a crying Baby Edward closer to her chest.
“Come on,” she said. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She ran down an alleyway to her right. Found herself heading towards the medical bay. She could hide in there. Lay low for a while.
But no.
She didn’t want to get boxed in.
She didn’t want to get trapped.
She didn’t want to—
Footsteps.
Running through the street.
Right behind her.
She turned around and froze.
A man walked towards a couple. Bob and Paula.
Both staring back fearfully at him holding that rifle.
“Please,” Bob said. “Take me. My wife. Let her go. Please.”
The man smiled at Bob and tilted his head.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, my friend. We’ll be looking real after your wife here.”
And then he put the gun to Bob’s head and gunned him down.
Paula screamed.
The man laughed. “Don’t you worry, miss. You’re a pretty one. We can add you to our collection. Don’t have to worry about a thing…”
He went to grab her.
But at that moment, Baby Edward cried.
The man stopped.
Turned down the alleyway.
Looked right into Kelly’s eyes.
There was a moment’s pause. A moment’s hesitation. A moment where time stood still.
And then the man—gaunt, narrow cheekbones—smirked with that toothless grin.
“Where you going, pretty?”
Kelly spun back around and ran.
She heard footsteps start chasing her right away.
She kept on going down the alleyway. Taking a left turn. And then another.
All the while, she could hear screams in her community.
Smell smoke from the gunfire.
From the burning.
Baby Edward crying in her arms, screaming.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. Don’t you worry. Mummy’s got you. Mummy’s…”
She turned the corner and froze.
It was a dead end.
A metal fence.
One they’d erected to form one of the boundaries between the community and the outside world.
An unmanned shield against the outside.
Her heart raced.
Those footsteps got closer.
She had to get over it.
She had to try.
She didn’t have long left.
She ran towards that fence. Tried to clamber her way up it.
But it was no use.
Footsteps and gunfire getting closer.
“I’m coming, princess!”
His voice. So close.
She turned around. Looked for a weapon. Looked for somewhere to hide.
There was nowhere in this alleyway.
There was nowhere…
And then she saw the window by her side.
Partly open.
She had to get in there.
She had to lay low.
She had to hide.
She rushed over to it. Squeezed it open.
Dropped Baby Edward down inside as gently as she could.
Then climbed into it herself.
When she was halfway through, she swore she heard those footsteps turn the corner.
She landed inside.
And she covered Baby Edward’s mouth even though he cried. Even though he screamed.
She held him tight. Squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.
Those footsteps.
Walking down the road.
Getting closer.
Closer.
She held on to Baby Edward as he shook, kicked, writhed.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Mummy’s got you. Mummy’s here.”
She opened her eyes, just a
little.
Saw a shadow on the floor ahead of her.
The man. Right outside the window.
She held still. Totally still. Held her breath. Her heart beat so fast she swore he’d hear it out there.
But the more time stretched on, the longer time passed, the more she started to wonder.
The more she started to hope.
She watched that shadow, totally still.
And then she saw it move.
Away.
Back the way it’d come from.
She listened to those footsteps.
Heard them walk away.
And then just like that, he was gone.
She waited a while. Loosened her grip on Baby Edward’s mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Mummy’s sorry.”
She waited a little longer before standing up. Looked outside.
No sign of him.
She thought about waiting in here. But this house backed directly onto the streets.
She needed to get out of this community.
She needed to get away.
She climbed out of the window.
Held Baby Edward under her arm.
And then she crept her way down the alleyway.
Took a right…
Then she froze.
The man stood there.
Smile on his face.
Rifle pointed right at her.
“Hide and seek, hmm?” he said. “Looks like I found you, princess. Game over.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Noah could only watch as Curtis and his people open-fired on the community he’d fought so hard to reach, and that pervading guilt only grew heavier.
Rain pelted down from the grey morning skies above. The streets were like any other small town in the old world. Bustling with life. There were people chatting to neighbours. There was no stench of death, just of bacon cooking. Sounds of life.
Only that had been shattered.
The gunfire.
Bodies lining the streets.
Screams filling the air.
A reminder that the new world was never too far away.
He felt a hand press against his bony, weak back. Staggered forward. His hands weren’t tied, but he was being kept captive. Ever since they’d caught him and Zelda—or Sarah, as he now knew her. Ever since Curtis shot her.
Ever since she wouldn’t kneel for him…
They’d pressed on after that. Pressed on to the community.
Only Noah got a sense that there’d been an opportunity.
There’d been a look of fear in the eyes of those who’d stood with Curtis when he’d captured Noah.
A look on some of their faces that they weren’t totally happy about this.
That they didn’t totally agree with this.
And if Noah could just reach the right people, he could use that.
But fuck. How the fuck was he supposed to reach them when he was surrounded and watching innocent lives being massacred?
“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Noah muttered.
“What?” the voice behind him was gruff. Strained. “Keep walking until the big man says otherwise.”
But Noah stopped.
He looked around at this guy. Old. Probably in his sixties. Long hair tied back in a ponytail. Kind eyes. Terrified eyes.
“You don’t want this. I saw the way you looked when he killed my friend.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. He lifted his rifle. “Don’t you tell me what I think, pal.”
“This future. The one you’re sleepwalking towards. It doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different. All of it. It’s not too late to turn the clock.”
The man looked right into Noah’s eyes then. Narrowed them.
And then he shook his head.
“’Fraid you’re wrong about that. Sorry. Now keep walking.”
The man turned Noah around and pushed the rifle to his back again. And Noah had no choice. What else could he do? If he tried to run, he’d be gunned down. They didn’t value him all that much.
But if he didn’t do anything—if he didn’t at least try to help these people—he’d never live with the guilt.
The guilt that he could’ve been here earlier.
That he could’ve done better.
That he—
It all happened so fast.
A gunshot pierced through the air.
Whizzed past his face.
And then he felt blood.
For a moment, he thought he’d been shot. That the bullet hit him.
But when he felt warm blood on his shoulder, all over his back, he realised it wasn’t him.
The man.
The man with the rifle to him.
He slumped down to the ground.
A bloody hole where his right eye was just moments ago.
Noah watched him hit the ground.
Watched the rifle fall out of his hand.
He looked at that rifle.
Then up at the few people still gathered around him.
Wide-eyed.
“Don’t,” one of them started.
But Noah wasn’t waiting for anyone.
He ducked down.
Lifted the rifle.
And then he sprayed bullets at the three people around him before any of them could react.
He watched them fall.
Then he checked around, made sure he was clear.
Most of the enemy were in the community now.
Distracted. Far too distracted to bother with him.
He stood, then. Wanted to rush forward, help free the women and kids who were being used as a human shield. A lot of them had fallen. But most of them were still standing. That fucker. That evil fucker…
And then he saw something.
A few of those women. They’d broken free.
They were fighting back.
Some of them were dying in the process.
But they were taking a stand against Curtis’ people.
They weren’t being victims anymore.
Noah ran down beside them. Because that could be his chance. He could free these people. And if he could free them, they could help him fight. Protect this place.
And then there was another target.
The head of the snake.
Curtis.
If he took Curtis out, he could get the others to stand in line.
Maybe it’d cause anarchy. Maybe it’d cause chaos.
But maybe chaos and anarchy were exactly what he needed right now.
He ran further down the slope. Saw another few of Curtis’ people turn and picked them off in due course.
The further he got into the community, the more gut-wrenched he felt. The sicker he felt.
The innocent lying in the streets. Bleeding out.
Fires burning people.
And something else struck Noah, too.
Curtis’ people.
Lots of his people were standing there. Wide-eyed. Horrified.
Like they didn’t want this.
Like they hadn’t signed up for this.
Like Curtis had taken things one step too far.
He kept on moving down the street when he saw the human shield cracking at the seams.
One of Curtis’ people. He handed a couple of women weapons. Like he was trying to help them.
And trying to free them.
And Noah sensed things shifting.
In a moment of massacre, he sensed Curtis’ people seeing the light.
Not all of them.
Not even the majority of them.
But a few of them.
And that was enough.
But he had to find Curtis.
He had to deal with Curtis.
Take Curtis out, and he might be able to do an even better job.
He dodged a few more bullets. Shot another man, then another. He looked around for Curtis. Couldn’t see him anywhere.
Where was he?
He had to find him.
&n
bsp; He ducked behind a battered car. Dodged more gunfire.
Stood up and shot a man across the street shooting at him.
The sides of war blurred now.
He went to crouch back down when he saw him.
Curtis was up ahead.
Right in the middle of the road.
He had someone in front of him.
On their knees.
Baby in her arms.
Noah’s body froze.
It was Kelly.
Kelly and her baby.
He was surrounded by people of his own. Holding rifles to the heads of other people crouched down on their knees. Sobbing.
Curtis lifted the megaphone to his grinning mouth. But he looked bloodied. Like a wounded warrior.
A man who had taken for granted what he’d had, and now was throwing the dice, one final time.
“Surrender,” he shouted. “Surrender, right this second. Or they die. Every damned one of them dies. And that’ll be on you.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Eddie saw the scene at the community, and he froze.
It was rainy. Thick clouds overhead. He was drenched in so much sweat he could taste it. His heart must be racing at a million beats per minute. Pain filled his chest. He thought it might just burst out if it beat any harder right now.
But he didn’t care.
All he cared about was down there in that community.
He stood there, Barney by his side, panting. Looked beyond the trees, down at the road. He could hear people in there, screaming. He could smell the gunfire. Taste the bloodshed.
His teeth chattered against one another as he questioned whether he was strong enough for this. Whether he had what it took to succeed here.
Because there was a voice in his head screaming at him.
You’ve already lost.
She’s already gone.
Your son’s already gone.
Face it. You’re a coward. You lost them. Know when you’re down, fat boy.
But then there was another voice, too.
A stronger voice. A more powerful voice.
One screaming at him even louder.
Kelly and your son are the two most important people in your life right now.
You owe it to them to fight for them.
Fuck the past.
Fuck the lot of it.
This is your moment.
He took a deep breath. Felt his body shake.
And he started to walk down the road, down the slope, towards what he knew damn well was his almost-certain, inevitable death.
He passed the empty cars. Passed the muddied footsteps on the ground. Passed bodies, too.