by Ryan Casey
“We’ll look after your friend’s kid,” Ellie said. “She means the world to me. You don’t have to worry about her here.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat and smiled.
Then, I pulled out the photograph of her—the one that Beth had given me all that time ago—and I handed it to Ellie.
“Make sure she gets this one day. Just so she understands. Just so she has something… something to remember her face by.”
Ellie took it reluctantly, then she smiled. “You don’t have to worry about her with us. I promise you.”
I nodded again then. And then I looked at Suzy, at Peter. “You have a good place here,” I said. “Look after it.”
“And you look after yourself.”
I shook her hand.
She held it for a few seconds.
Then I let go.
We all said our goodbyes. And before we knew it we were out of the gates, back out into the woods, looking back on the log cabin campsite and preparing to leave.
“Never too late to change your mind,” Ellie called.
I smiled at her. “I won’t be changing my mind. Not on this.”
A brief look of disappointment. Of loss.
Then she lit up another cigarette.
“Good luck quitting your habit,” I said.
“Good luck dealing with yours.”
I didn’t want to ask what she meant by that. I didn’t have to. It didn’t take a genius to understand what she was implying.
I saw Kaileigh in the distance, once again. And I wanted to go over there. I wanted to tell her everything.
But then she disappeared, playing around the campsite once again as the sun beamed down strongly, another beautiful spring day on the cards.
I looked at Suzy.
I looked at Peter.
“Ready?” I asked.
The pair of them nodded. Not enthusiastically, but a nod all the same.
I took a deep breath and nodded to myself.
Then, I looked ahead at the woods, at the road ahead.
It was time to continue my journey.
And I wasn’t giving up.
I walked.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ellie sat back in her armchair inside her log cabin and lit up another cigarette.
Today was going to be a lazy day. Yesterday’s hunt had been particularly fruitful, providing them with plenty of food for the coming days. They had enough water to get by. Besides, it was a nice day. Good to get your feet up on a nice day every now and then.
But something was playing on Ellie’s mind.
Someone was playing on Ellie’s mind.
She listened to the silence of the log cabin. She longed for someone to be here. Not so much a romantic partner. Just someone new. Someone who didn’t serve her in any way. Because that was one of the main problems with leading a group. Everybody was subservient to you—whether you or they liked it or not. So immediately the very fact that you weren’t their equals caused a problem.
Ellie thought about Alex and a part of her wished he’d stayed here with her. Because he was troubled. Sure, he was troubled.
But he’d had an honesty about him that was rare to see in this world.
She took another puff of the cigarette, let the ashy flavour fill her mouth and lungs. Her mum always used to smoke, right from when Ellie was a kid. She always told Ellie never to smoke because it was a nasty habit, and Ellie thought she never would smoke because it always smelled so bad.
She used to have the mickey taken out of her at school for the way her clothes smelled. Even the teachers pulled her back sometimes, asking her whether everything was okay at home.
And it was. It always was. Her mum just liked to smoke a lot. But she’d never smoke. Ever.
Little did young Ellie realise that really, she’d already been smoking for years. Passive smoking had made her an addict. When she left home for university, she’d picked up the social smoking habit right away, and then that had progressed to twenty a day, then chain smoking one after the other.
She figured then, looking back, that her teachers really were just trying to help her back in the day.
If only she’d been intelligent enough to see that.
Her mind wandered back to Alex when she watched the cloud of smoke rise above her, the smell of it clouding the carpet like it always used to at home when she was younger. She thought about the vengeance mission he was on. And she felt for him. She sympathised with him. She really did. Because she’d been there before. She’d lost someone at the hands of someone else. Her old mum. Burglars broke into their home. Mum tried to stand her ground, stubborn old mule—something else Ellie had in common with her—and she’d ended up taking a knock to the head that killed her.
Ellie remembered stepping down the stairs and finding her there, cigarette still between her lips, blood covering her cracked head. And she’d lay there. She’d rested there by her side, just waiting for morning to come around.
After that, she’d wanted nothing more than revenge on the people who had done that to her. On the people who had taken her life away from her.
She thought back to that cold, horrible night that she’d stayed by her mother’s side and felt the twinge of vengeance—which still hadn’t totally gone away—creeping through her body once again.
And then she heard a shout from outside.
She stood up right away. Thought about putting her cigarette out but took it with her instead. She stepped out of the log cabin, out onto the grounds of the site.
When she saw what was happening, her body went cold immediately.
There was a group of men.
And they were beyond the gate.
The leader of the group—the man in the middle—had long, black hair and a beard that looked incredibly well maintained considering the world they lived in. There was someone lying unconscious by his side.
It didn’t take Ellie long to realise that the unconscious man was Adam.
She tried to hold her nerve, puffing more and more on her cigarette as she walked. She pulled her knife out of her pocket. Lifted it. “What the hell’s going on here?”
The leader of the group looked at her and smiled. “You run this place?”
“I asked you the question. That’s how it works when you’re on my territo—”
“I’m Jon. Pleasure to meet you, truly. I wish I could stick around, but we have some rather urgent business to attend to. And it concerns a man called Alex.”
Right away, Ellie felt her stomach sink for several reasons. Firstly, because this was Jon. This was the man Alex had told her about. The leader of the group who had killed his son.
But also because the way this man had said Alex’s name, he must’ve suspected something. He must’ve suspected Alex was here, for some reason.
He must be hunting him down.
Ellie took another drag on her cigarette. “And what makes you so certain we know who this ‘Alex’ is?”
“Don’t bullshit us. He’s been here. Before we took your friend down, let’s just say he wasn’t too keen on keeping Alex a secret. Said he knew him right away when I came up and asked for him.”
Ellie’s stomach sank. Adam. Shit. He still held a grudge against Alex for what he’d done. Understandable… but he’d clearly given up his information to the wrong people.
“Hell, he might even still be here. And if you don’t tell us where he is, then I’m afraid there’s going to be consequences.”
That word. Consequences.
Ellie didn’t like it.
She didn’t like what it implied.
She walked over to Jon. Walked right up to him. She took a drag on her cigarette, blew the smoke into his face.
“Whoever you have a problem with, that’s fine. We all have a problem with someone. But I’m telling you. Don’t make this a problem between us. You’ve attacked one of my people. I could see that as a damned good reason to put you down myself right now. Because there are people here who
would do that. Believe me. But whoever you have a problem with out there, don’t make it between us. That’s not something you want to do.”
Jon narrowed his eyes, studied Ellie closely. For a second, she thought he was going to see the truth of what she was saying. She thought he was going to back off.
But then she saw him look past her, and her stomach sank.
“Well hello there. Who is this?”
Ellie looked over her shoulder.
Her worst fears were realised.
It was Kaileigh.
“Kaileigh, go inside, honey—”
“Say, kid. Did you see a man here not long ago? He’s a friend of ours.”
Jon started to walk around Ellie but she stepped in his way, cigarette smoke rising between them. “Don’t even think about talking to her.”
Jon smiled. “Simple way of doing that,” he said, puffing out some of Ellie’s smoke. “Tell us the truth. Is Alex still here? And if he’s gone, where has he gone?”
Ellie wanted to tell them. Anything to keep them away from Kaileigh. Because she was the future. And it was her duty to protect her.
“Tell me. Tell me now or I swear you don’t want to suffer the consequences.”
Ellie looked around at her people as they stood in a silent stand-off with Jon’s.
Then she looked back at Kaileigh.
And then, finally, she looked into Jon’s eyes.
“He’s coming for you,” she said. “And he’s going to find you. And when he does, I hope he makes you pay for what you did to his son.”
For a second, Ellie saw a shift in Jon’s eyes. Like he was being accused of something awful; something he hadn’t committed.
She was about to say something else when she felt the crack across the side of her head.
She didn’t know what’d happened, not truly. She hit the ground, cigarette still between her lips, smoke creeping into her lungs. And as everything went blurry around her, she thought about how her mum had died. She remembered how she’d taken a blow to the head, then fell to the ground, cigarette still lit.
She felt someone grab her hair. Saw Jon staring into her eyes, right into them.
“Thanks for your co-operation,” he said. “Don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of the girl.”
Ellie tried to climb back to her feet.
She had to fight.
She couldn’t let them take Kaileigh.
She couldn’t let her suffer any harm—
Then she felt another blow.
And this time, her vision went blank.
And as she lay there on the ground, consciousness drifting, she thought about her mum, and that night she’d lay at her side, waiting for the sun to rise.
She felt Kaileigh by her side, inhaling her smoke, the warmth of her body close. She wanted to tell her never to smoke. To stay out of trouble. To trust herself before anyone else.
She wanted to tell her so much, as she lay there on the ground, no strength to move.
But then the feeling in her body disappeared, and Ellie felt nothing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was already evening and we were no closer to finding what we were looking for.
The sun was still beaming down strong, and it was causing some problems. Peter wasn’t feeling too well. We kept stopping every now and then for him to take a breather, but he wasn’t in a good way. Sickness, which was a bugger in this world because it made dehydration so much more common.
And although we’d kindly been given some supplies by Ellie and her people earlier that day, we were through them for the most part.
I kept on going, wading past the trees, slowing down to account for Peter. We were in uncharted territory. Or maybe we weren’t. Everywhere looked the same, so there was no way of knowing, not really.
It felt like we were going around in circles. Which we probably were, in all truth. It was easy to get lost in woods like these. I’d got lost just two miles from our farm once, and it’d taken me a whole eight hours to get back. Once you knew your way though, you were really at an advantage.
But I didn’t. And it pained me to even consider that we weren’t getting any closer to Jon and his people.
And that Sarah was still at home with Will.
Suzy had kept remarkably quiet about her son. She was worried about him, obviously. But she was doing a good job of keeping her worries on the down low.
It made me feel incredibly selfish. We were out here because of me, and my problems.
And it made me realise I needed to do something about that. Make a bold move.
I stopped and put my hands on my knees. Peter looked grateful for the opportunity to rest.
“You two should head back,” I said.
Suzy frowned. “Alex?”
“It’s not fair that you’re out here doing this for me. Especially not when Peter isn’t well. You should try and find your way back. Even if you end up back at Ellie’s camp, they’ll welcome you there. But now’s not the time for you to be traipsing through here with me. This is mine to do.”
Peter looked at me, his face pale. He shook his head. “You’ve got a point. But we’ve come all this way. It’s too late to just turn back now. Besides. We don’t have a damned clue where we’re going. How do you figure we find our way back?”
“Our farm should be west of here,” I said. “Use the sun to—”
“Use the bloody sun,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Alex, listen to yourself. And listen to what I’m saying, too. We’re in too deep to turn back now. Not saying I condone what you’re doing in any way, but I’m here. So let me be here. Let me help. Okay?”
I nodded reluctantly. Then I turned around, faced the woods once again.
“I just need to know Sarah’s okay.”
“Hmm,” Peter said, walking past Alex. “You probably should’ve thought about that before you came out here on this suicide mission in the first place.”
I looked at Peter and I shook my head. “You really don’t think this is right, do you? You really don’t think we should be doing this?”
Peter looked at the ground and sighed. “It isn’t about whether it’s right or wrong. It’s about whether it’s going to get you any peace or whether it’s going to get you killed. And what then? What justice is there in the world if you get killed?”
I heard what Peter was saying. And for the first time in a long time, I felt myself getting close. Close to accepting. Close to admitting defeat. Close to moving on.
“Guys?” Suzy said.
I looked at her. I was so close to saying the words. So close.
But then I saw she was pointing ahead.
I turned. Looked where she was pointing.
I didn’t know what it was at first.
But then I saw it. I realised.
And when I realised, I knew.
I staggered forward. I heard Peter saying something, telling me to come back. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Because when I pushed through the branches and walked further forward, I saw exactly what it was.
It was a caravan site.
And there was no mistaking the logo hanging from the gates.
The squirrel eating the nut.
The logo from Jon’s shirt.
“This is it,” I said. “This is Jon’s camp.”
I looked at Suzy and at Peter and saw the fear building in their eyes.
“We made it,” I said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Earlier that day…
Sarah looked out as the afternoon sun shone down on the fields and she wondered where Alex was.
Her surroundings seemed dulled, somewhat. It’d been that way ever since Bobby had died.
Bobby is dead.
Oh God Bobby is dead…
Every time she thought of it, the horror of the situation hit her all over again, as if for the first time.
Deep down inside, she wanted to believe the little fantasies she had that he was still here. He was just pla
ying in his room. Or he was messing around outside. Or helping out with the animals.
But no.
It didn’t take long for those illusions to be broken.
She looked around at the fields in front of her, the trees in the distance. She listened to the birdsong and the wind, and took in deep breaths of the crisp spring air. She’d been taught mindfulness for a while. How focusing intently on the present moment is enough to snap you out of any spiral of negative emotions.
But mindfulness didn’t account for grief. All mindfulness was good for was dulling your senses when you were happy. It was nowhere near strong enough or effective enough when you actually had problems to solve.
Sarah heard footsteps. When she looked back at the farm, she saw Will.
For a moment, she thought Will was Bobby, and the inevitable realisation that it wasn’t him brought all those emotions back again.
But the truth was, there was a reason she’d chosen to stay behind and look after Will. Maybe it was with morbid intentions. Maybe it was outright sad.
But being with Will reminded her of being with her son.
Even if just for a few seconds every now and then, the illusion was enough to feel real.
And to Sarah, that mattered.
“You okay, Will?”
Will held onto the door. He was looking at the floor. And at that moment, it struck Sarah that she’d never really asked him how he was dealing with Bobby’s death. It seemed like because he was a child, he had been pushed into the background somewhat.
But Sarah wasn’t going to allow that to keep on being the case.
“You can talk,” she said. “If you want to. I’m here for you, you know?”
He looked up at Sarah and for a moment, they made eye contact.
Then, Will said: “I just wish Bobby was still here to play with.”
Those words, the innocence with which he said them, they brought tears to Sarah’s eyes.
Because Will was suffering too. Of course he was suffering.
“Come here,” she said.
Will kept his head down, but he walked. And when he reached Sarah, he held her.