by Casey, Ryan
Reached for the goggles wrapped around his head.
He pulled them away.
And right then, Jack understood.
He had dark hair, greyer than he remembered. A thick bushy beard, which almost rendered him unrecognisable. There was a scar down his right cheek—a scar Jack was pretty certain he didn’t have before. He’d remember it if he had. He’d seen him enough times.
There was no denying who this guy was.
Hazel staggered towards him. Hands over her mouth. Unable to say a word.
The man stumbled towards her. Tears rolling down his face. “Hazel,” he said. “It’s—it’s you. It’s really you.”
Jack watched Hazel rush towards him, watched him rush towards her, and he watched them land in one another’s arms and hold each other, comfort each other, love each other.
“Who is that?” Candice asked.
Jack took a deep breath. His fists were clenched, and his jaw was tense.
He could only stare at Hazel, and he couldn’t help feeling like his world was falling apart.
“It’s… it’s Pete,” Jack said.
Candice frowned. “Who’s… wait. Pete? As in—”
“As in Hazel’s husband. That Pete. Yeah.
He watched this reunion unfold, and he felt a mixture of emotions. Disbelief. Happiness that Hazel looked so happy. Amazement that this was even happening at all.
But there was something else there, too.
An emotion he couldn’t deny.
Sadness.
He watched Hazel move away from Pete. He heard something. Wayne’s name. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. A bitter taste grew in his mouth.
And when he saw Pete look away, shake his head, more tears rolling down his face, he knew the news had been broken.
He stood there awkwardly with the others. The night grew thicker. He kept on looking over his shoulder. Martin’s group, they could be close. They had to be careful. They couldn’t let this discovery get in the way of their goal.
When he turned around, Pete was looking right at him.
His heart skipped a beat. He looked into the eyes of this man he used to class as a close friend, and he felt nothing but hate. Hate for what he’d taken away from him. Hate for what he’d done.
But then he watched as Pete walked slowly away from Hazel. Saw him step right up towards him.
And then he stretched out a hand. “Jack,” he said.
Jack looked at Pete’s outstretched hand, and he wanted to snap every bone in it. God knows he could.
But he looked at the group around him.
Looked at Hazel staring on, expectantly.
And then he took a deep breath and took Pete’s hand.
“Pete,” he said.
They held hands in a tight grip for a few seconds. Jack didn’t want to be first to loosen. He didn’t want to be first to let go.
But as Pete kept holding his grip too, he knew he couldn’t keep on holding his hand forever. He loosened his grip. Pulled his hand away. Then he looked away, cleared his throat. Pete did much the same.
“So,” Jack said.
“So,” Pete said.
“What… what are you doing out here?”
Pete half-smiled, just a little. Jack could still see the tears glistening on his cheeks in the light of the moon. It was so awkward between them. Everything felt so forced. So unnatural.
If Jack could have his way, he’d walk the hell away from this bastard and leave him in the woods.
But he knew that wasn’t the kind of diplomacy his people spoke so preciously about.
“That’s the thing,” Pete said. “I’m out here because there’s some bad folks lurking around. The kind that want to threaten our way of life. I thought you guys were them at first. But… but you’re not. Thank God, you’re not. I—I can’t believe this, Jack. I just can’t—”
“Your way of life?”
Pete steadied himself. Nodded. “It’s a long story. But there’s something you need to know. Doesn’t matter what happened in the past. Our history, that doesn’t matter. What matters is where I come from.”
Jack narrowed his eyes. Really studied Pete’s face. “What are you talking about?”
Pete looked at Jack, then at the rest of his people.
He took a deep breath, and he forced a smile.
“I come from someplace safe,” he said. “I come from somewhere with power. And I’m going to take you there.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jack paced around the woods and kept his eyes on his surroundings at all times.
It was late. The air was still, little specks of snow falling occasionally. There was no movement around at all, and no sounds, either. But Jack had to stay on guard. He didn’t want to risk running into Martin’s group. He knew they were behind somewhere.
The group had stopped in the middle of the woods to grab a few hours rest before making their next step at sunrise. But Jack couldn’t sleep. Rest wasn’t an option, either.
He just walked around the woods and thought about where he was going to go from here.
He looked back towards where he knew his group was camping, and he thought about Pete. Ever since he’d re-appeared out of nowhere, he hadn’t been able to tear Hazel from his side.
And he got it. He understood it.
But it wasn’t just Hazel. Villain seemed taken by Pete, too. Seemed to want to spend more time with him than he did Jack.
And he knew he was being stupid. He knew he was just being jealous.
But he couldn’t help it.
It felt like he’d been so close to a fresh start. So close to a new beginning.
And now everything was falling apart again.
He walked further through the trees, and he thought about just walking away. Leaving his people with Pete for him to take them to this safe place. Jack could find his own way. He knew how to survive out here in the wild.
But then he couldn’t walk away from his people. Not while there was danger out there. Not while Martin still followed them.
Besides. Pete said something about a threat he was out here eliminating. He hadn’t elaborated on that. But it didn’t exactly put Jack at ease.
He heard footsteps to his right and froze.
He turned around. Tightened his grip on his knife.
He had to be ready for anything.
He had to be ready to defend his people.
He walked slowly towards the source of that movement. His heart pounded. He gripped his knife with his cold hands as a cool breeze brushed against him once more.
He went to lunge towards this movement in the foliage.
Pete staggered back. Hands raised. “Whoa. Just me. Just me.”
Jack held on to his knife as he stared at Pete, and for a horrible moment, he thought about burying it into his neck. Finishing him off. Pretending he’d fallen in some horrible accident. That’d be one way of dealing with the Pete problem.
But then he shook that thought away. Lowered his knife. Turned around. “You shouldn’t creep up on people like that.”
Pete sighed. “It’s good. We were best friends for twenty damned years, remember? I always was quicker than you. And better than you at pretty much everything.”
Jack felt sickness right in his gut. Memories of his past friendship with Pete filled his mind. The times they’d race one another when they were staying at Jack’s grandparents’ caravan site in the Lakes. The play-fights they’d have.
And no matter how old they were, no matter how much Jack fought, Pete was always quicker than him. He was always better than him at things.
He even won the race for Hazel in the end.
Jack walked away. He wasn’t really heading anywhere in particular, just away from Pete, away from here.
“Jack, we need to talk.”
Jack stopped. His skin tingled, his cheeks flushed. “We’ve nothing to talk about.”
“You’re wrong,” Pete said. “We never spoke. Not after Haz
el—”
“I said there’s nothing to talk about.”
He looked around at Pete. Saw the way he stood there. He wasn’t even holding his rifle. He had his woolly hat on his head, but his goggles were nowhere to be seen. It was like looking at a ghost. A ghost from his past, resurfacing once again. Haunting him, wherever he went.
“I never had a chance to say sorry,” Pete said.
Jack puffed out his lips. “Sorry? All these years later, and that’s all you have to say? Sorry?”
“You made your choice. But I’m not talking about Hazel.”
Jack went to ask what Pete was talking about, then he realised. Wayne.
Jack looked away. A lump building in his throat. The urge to kick the shit out of Pete growing by the second. “Don’t talk about Wayne.”
Pete took a few steps towards Jack, and Jack felt the hairs on his neck rising. “He was a good lad. And… and you’d be proud to know the man he grew into. You’d be proud at the way he treated other people. How he treated his mum—”
“Leave it, okay?”
Jack’s shout echoed around the woods. He was just inches from Pete’s face now. He couldn’t stop himself shaking. Couldn’t loosen his fists.
He looked down again, away from Pete. He knew losing his shit wasn’t going to lead to anywhere positive, no matter how much he wanted to.
But he didn’t want any digging up of the past.
He didn’t want any settling of personal scores.
He wanted this to be impersonal. Strictly impersonal.
And then they could all focus on the next step, whatever that was.
“I’m sorry,” Pete said. “For a lot of things. None of us are saints. But no matter what happened in the past, it’s important we work together right now.”
Jack wanted to make a snide comment. In the end, he bit his lip, resisted. “This place you come from. The place in Barrow. What’s it like?”
For the first time in their conversation, Pete’s smile widened, and his eyes lit up. “It’s the future. And I’m going to take you there. If you’ll let me.”
Jack didn’t nod, didn’t shake his head. Kept his cards close to his chest. It was the only way. “And you mentioned a threat. You were out here guarding your home from some enemy. If it’s really so perfect, why were you out here?”
Pete sighed. That smile slipped from his face, just for a second. “Some people don’t want us to enjoy what we have. Some people want to take it away from us. We have to crush them before they even get the chance.”
“And do you think they might get the chance?”
Pete glanced at Jack again. A conflicted look to his expression, just for a moment.
And then he smiled once more. “No. I truly don’t.”
Jack stood there, and he felt torn. On the one hand, he wanted to believe in the place Pete came from. He’d seen the helicopters after all and heard the rumours.
But on the other… something about it felt too good to be true.
He had a choice.
“I know this isn’t easy for you,” Pete said. “I know… I know life would’ve probably been better if I hadn’t cropped up in your life again.”
“You can say that again.”
“But you and Hazel resolved things, didn’t you? You and Hazel found ways to work through your problems. You found ways to move forward, for the sake of surviving in this world. Right?”
Jack wanted to be honest with Pete. He wanted to tell him that yes, they had found ways to move on together. He wanted to tell him how close they’d got. And how much closer he wanted to get.
But he knew there was no point. Because it was already too late.
He looked back into the woods, over towards where Martin and his group would no doubt be closing in.
Then he looked around at the woods. Around towards his people. Around towards Barrow.
And then he looked at Pete.
And as he stood there, he said the only words he could.
Made the only decision he could.
“We set off at sunrise,” Jack said.
A momentary smile on Pete’s face. “That’s—”
“But don’t talk to me. Leave me alone. Okay? You were right. Our history doesn’t matter. We’ve moved forward. But that doesn’t mean I want anything to do with you, either. Now get some rest. You’re in my group now. And you’ll do as I say.”
He glanced back at Pete. Saw him standing there, eyes wide, jaw slack.
And then he turned around, knife in hand, and continued his scanning of the perimeter.
Tomorrow, their final journey began.
Tomorrow, they found their new home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Jack saw the town up ahead, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
It was morning. They’d set off walking a few hours ago. There was no time for breakfast, so they’d just drank some of the water Pete carried with him. Jack felt a little woozy, a little lightheaded, partly through hunger, partly lack of sleep.
But it was hard not to feel some optimism today.
The wind had dropped to a standstill. The sun shone down brightly from the blue, cloudless sky above.
And as Jack walked through the bright snow, past the trees, towards the buildings, he saw something else that filled him with hope.
Water trickled from the trees. The snow was melting.
He didn’t want to get too optimistic. He’d seen the weather shift dramatically already just days ago.
But this… this really did feel like something was changing. It felt like a shift was occurring. Like winter really was giving way to spring.
But something else played on Jack’s mind.
He kept looking over his shoulder, back in the direction they’d come from. No sign of movement. No sign of life.
But footsteps.
Footprints in the snow.
Footprints that, unless the sun melted the snow fast, would lead Martin’s group right towards them.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about what he could do with that.
Instead of running away… they could use it to their advantage.
Lead Martin right where they wanted to, then launch an attack.
He looked over his shoulder. Pete and Hazel walked together, deep in conversation. Like they hadn’t been apart at all. Like all the healing, all the repairing between them, all of it had been for nothing.
And bloody Villain walked alongside them too.
He glared at him. Traitor.
He turned around and saw Emma walking right by his side, looking right at him.
He looked away from her. Looked at the road ahead. Always had to keep his eyes on the road ahead. Always had to stay aware of his surroundings. “You gawking at anything in particular or not?”
Emma didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
She looked from Jack to Hazel and Pete, then back at Jack again.
“Again,” Jack said, cheeks reddening. “You just here to gawk, or—”
“You’ve not lost her,” Emma said.
Jack looked around at her. He wasn’t expecting to hear that. “What?”
“Hazel,” Emma said. “You’ve not lost her. She just needs time, you know? Time to realise. What she really wants.”
Jack felt a lump in his throat. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting such poignant words from Emma.
But he reached for her back. Put a hand on it. Smiled at her.
“Thanks, Emma,” he said. “But… well. Sometimes, life’s not a fairytale. The main thing is we know where we’re going. We know something good’s waiting for us in Barrow. And we know—”
“I know you want to run away,” Emma said.
Again, Jack looked at her. Frowned. “What?”
She rubbed her arm, scratched right above the stump where her hand was missing. “I know… I know you want to run away. Because I feel like that too, sometimes. When… when I was at Heathwaite’s, I liked it there. But sometimes I felt l
ike everyone was trying to do everything for me. Like they thought I was a baby. And I know they were only doing it ’cause they cared about me. I know… I know you only did it ’cause you cared about me. But it didn’t change how I felt. I wanted to get away. Wanted to survive in the wild for a while, just to prove I could. Just to show I was strong enough. But I… I see it now. I see the truth. I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t be. Because I need other people. We all do.”
Jack looked back at Hazel and Pete. He looked at Villain. He looked at Mrs Fuzzles wandering alongside him, through the melting snow. He looked at Susan, Bella, and Candice, walking together, smiling together.
And then he looked back at Emma, and he squeezed her shoulder.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you live,” Jack said.
She lowered her head, looked at the road. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you were just trying to help.”
She reached out her one good hand, and she hugged Jack, just slightly.
And at that moment, Jack felt such warmth spread right through his body.
Such optimism.
Such hope.
Because Emma was right.
They needed one another.
All of them did.
They weren’t strong enough on their own.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said. “We’re going to make it to our new home. And then we’re going to live an amazing new life. Together.”
He looked at her, and he smiled.
There was a moment’s uncertainty. A moment’s hesitation.
“Thought you didn’t believe in fairytales?” Emma said.
Jack’s smile widened. “But this… this isn’t a fairytale. This is the truth.”
Emma smiled back at him.
He looked up at the town ahead as the sun beamed down into the streets.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt optimistic.
Martin crouched down and moved his finger along the outline of the footprint.
Then he looked up, out of the trees, over at the town in the distance.
“We’re close,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was already getting dark, and Jack was growing eager to leave this town.