by Ryan Casey
“You were saying. About your dad.”
“He just detested the fact I was a girl. I could never live up to my brothers in his eyes.”
“That’s pretty normal in families.”
“Not when your brothers are dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. It’s a long time ago. But it’s something my dad never got over. Which, fine, I can understand. But he treated me like I was some kind of disadvantaged kid all because of my gender. And I guess I started believing I was, especially the way he treated Mum.”
“Not great?”
“An understatement.”
I tossed the cotton bud away and pulled out some plasters. I applied them over the blisters, and added a little bandaging too.
“You should keep that.”
“You need it.”
“No. I’m just a bit uncomfortable. I—”
“Just have it. Okay?”
Again, Kesha reluctantly nodded and agreed.
“So yeah. I grew up this repressed little girl, and when my teenage years came along, I did what all repressed little girls do. I rebelled.”
“I can picture that.”
“You have no idea. And you don’t want to know the full story. Seriously.”
“I think I do.”
“You don’t.”
I decided not to press Kesha any further. She seemed pretty assertive with that last point. It did make me want to know her more, though. It made me want to understand her deeper, and get to know what really made her tick. I felt like there was a whole side to Kesha I still hadn’t seen yet, and that I still didn’t totally understand. I was looking forward to getting to know her properly.
I offered a hand.
Kesha knocked it away. “I can stand up. I’m not some kind of invalid.”
I lifted my hand to my head and saluted. “Yes, boss.”
Kesha looked back down the country lane we were on in the direction we’d headed from. “I wonder how they’re doing.”
“Who?”
“Our people. Back at the prison. I wonder how they’re getting on.”
I swallowed a lump in my dry throat and put a hand on Kesha’s back. “I’m sure they’re getting along just fine.”
I got the sense that Kesha hadn’t totally meant the people back at the prison, though. I felt like she was on about her family, too. And it made me realise just how little I actually knew about Kesha, about her past.
But did that even matter anymore?
In a world without the internet, without jobs, without social media and promotions and capitalism, did the past really matter?
Could we really, truly be reborn?
“Come on,” I said. “I’d like to be off the road by dark.”
It took Kesha a few seconds to join Bouncer and me. And when she did, I felt like she was still elsewhere, still wondering how someone she loved might be, questioning whether to go out there and find people of her own.
“You asked. About what happened in my rebellious years.”
“You slept with a few guys and did a few drugs. About right?”
She narrowed her eyes. Then she lifted her sleeve. I saw burn wounds, nasty ones, right up her arms.
“If you think the blisters on my feet are bad, try being in a house fire.”
“My God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I started it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Day Thirty
HOME SWEET HOME.
A month had passed and finally I was back in Preston. When I saw the block of flats in the distance, the railway bridge over the Ribble, the steep slopes of Avenham Park, I don’t think I’d ever felt adrenaline quite like it. Not just because I was back in the place I’d called home my entire life. Not even because I knew I was so, so close to reunion with Olivia, and with Kerry.
But because I knew I’d actually achieved something.
I’d forced myself to face conflict. And damn had I faced conflict. I’d been beaten. I’d been chased. I’d killed.
But all of it was for this moment. This precious moment, where I could finally say I was home again.
“You could’ve told me Preston was an absolute shithole. Might’ve thought twice about joining you here.”
When I heard Kesha’s voice, I couldn’t help smiling, even though I knew her presence by my side was eventually going to be problematic. I’d have to explain who she was to Kerry. What she meant to me. How much I’d grown to care about her, despite the darker secrets of her past that were slowly coming to light. Just the thought of it made me feel sick.
But then, why should I feel guilty? Kerry left me. She told me she wanted me to move on. So I had. I’d done as she’d wanted.
I just didn’t want to risk anything that might cause further problems between Olivia and me.
I could feel myself running away from my problems again as the thoughts of asking if Kesha and I could go our separate ways circled my mind.
But I knew that was wrong. I knew that was shitty.
We walked alongside the Ribble, on the side opposite the city centre. The city centre wasn’t a place I wanted to be right now. Kerry’s place was just outside, in the suburbs. Wait, Kerry’s place? That was what I was calling it now? It was home. It was my home.
“Any plans now we’re here, genius?” Kesha asked.
I felt my legs getting weaker the more I walked alongside the Ribble, the further away the city centre got. I knew I was doing the right thing by not charging through the centre of the city. It was the last place I wanted to be right now. Preston could be dodgy at the best of times, so I dreaded to think of the state it’d be in during the worst of times.
“There’s a bridge a couple of miles this way.” I lifted my finger and pointed at the railway bridge in the distance. “If we walk along that, keep our heads down, we should be there in…”
“Will? You okay?”
I wiped my eyes. “Sorry. It’s just… We’re home. I’m home.”
Kesha put a hand on my back and smiled, her blue eyes glimmering in the sun, which had been rare these last couple of days. “Yes you are. Now come on. Let’s get you back to your family.”
We walked further towards the bridge. As we got closer, I realised Kesha was walking pretty tall and quick.
“Your feet sorted?”
“My feet? Oh. Yeah. They haven’t bothered me in miles. Thanks.”
I smiled. “Told you a bit of Sudocrem would do the trick.”
“I had to admit, I was sceptical.”
“You shouldn’t be sceptical where I’m concerned. I’m just full of good ideas.”
“Oh you are, are you?” Kesha said, playfully. It was immature. It wasn’t the deepest of conversation. But speaking with Kesha, joking around with her, it made me feel good about myself again. It made me feel like, as pathetic as this might sound, I still had it.
“So what’s the plan when we do find your family?”
I felt a lot clearer about my answer, and that further boosted my mood. “I was thinking we could head back up to the prison, if you don’t mind, of course.”
“If I don’t mind? I’ve been away over a week. Not sure I’m in charge anymore.”
“What you’ve got there. I’m starting to see just how good it really is. And I see no reason why it can’t get even better. There’s good people there.”
“Yes. There is. But…”
“What?”
Kesha shook her head as we walked onto the bridge.
“No, go on.”
“The people at the hospital. The group we left there. Do you believe what their leader said? About the sleeper cell within the prison?”
I had to admit, the thought concerned me. But I couldn’t show it for Kesha’s sake. “He was blowing smoke. Bluffing. Everything will be fine back at the prison. Promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t
keep.”
Kesha looked into my eyes.
I looked back into hers.
I felt myself moving close towards her again. I felt her lips getting nearer to mine, as the draw of a kiss was irresistible.
Then the next thing just happened in a blur.
I heard Bouncer growl.
I caught sight of a man at the opposite side of the bridge.
He was holding a gun—
Then Kesha bit my tongue and fell forward onto me.
I heard her yelp with pain. Then I felt warmth on my leg.
When I looked down, I saw exactly what that warmth was, and everything clicked together to make a horrifying sense.
Kesha was bleeding.
She’d been shot.
And whoever had shot her was still firing our way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I felt Kesha collapse further into my arms as the gunfire peppered in our direction.
I fell back against the road, smacking my head in the process. I was disoriented and lost. I felt cold and sick after seeing that patch of blood spreading from Kesha’s leg onto me.
By my side, I heard Bouncer growling and barking as more gunfire came our way.
“Bouncer, heal!”
Bouncer looked at me in confusion. A bullet whooshed just past him, tearing some of his fur, which got him into even more of a frenzy.
“Bouncer!”
Then, there was no stopping him. There was no putting a halt to animal instinct.
He was off.
I heard more gunfire. I heard Bouncer barking. On top of me, pressing me down, Kesha cried with pain as the blood kept on oozing out of her leg.
“You’re okay,” I said, stroking her cheeks, feeling her tears against my fingertips. “You’re going to be okay.”
“It hurts.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
My eyes darted upwards. I saw the man who’d been firing stepping forward. He was holding on to his gun, and dressed all in black. He was coming for us.
There was no sign of Bouncer.
I knew I had to go look for Bouncer. I couldn’t let anything happen to him. But I knew also that Kesha needed me right now. I had to tie up that wound. The blood wasn’t exactly pouring out, but she’d lose a lot if she weren’t careful. She was already turning pale.
“This isn’t going to be nice,” I said. “But we need to get off the road.”
“It—it’s so painful.”
“Kesha,” I said, feeling tears of my own starting as everything fell apart. I held on to her face and looked right into her bloodshot eyes. “You have to trust me. You have to just believe in me right now. We have to get off this road.”
I saw lucidity return to Kesha’s eyes. She nodded, and then I worked my way from underneath her, crawling over to the side of a parked car as fast as I could.
As I pulled Kesha along, more bullets fired in our direction. I was growing dizzy with the amount of time that’d passed since I last saw Bouncer, or heard him. He was a very vocal dog, especially when he’d been threatened. I couldn’t face up to the reality of why he might’ve gone silent.
It would break me.
I pulled Kesha up to the side of the car and fumbled around the bug-out bag. I pulled out some wire and some Dettol and held it over Kesha’s leg with shaking hands. It was bleeding, but it was hard to tell how bad the wound was right now. “This’ll sting. But you’ll be much better for it.”
I poured some Dettol on the wound.
Kesha yelped with agony.
“Ssh. I’m here. I’m here.”
When I’d applied the Dettol, I took a peek through the back window of the car to see how close the shooter was.
I heard glass smash, and felt it crumble against my face.
Shit. He was just a matter of metres away.
I tightened the wire around my hands and went to wrap it around Kesha’s leg to ease the bleeding when I saw feet appear at the side of the car.
It was one of those moments where sheer instinct kicked in. I knew Kesha was losing blood. I knew I needed to see to her.
But at the same time, the threat would be much, much greater if I just let this man get any closer to her.
I stuck out my leg and kicked him as hard as I could.
He didn’t fall. And I felt even more of an idiot for even trying to kick him down.
He lifted his gun. Pointed it at me.
I could see his eyes now. I could see his ginger beard. And I knew I’d seen him somewhere before.
Then it clicked.
The tramp that sat outside the bus station every single day.
The tramp I always ignored.
His eyes were maniacal. He looked completely drugged up.
“You ignored me,” he said.
“Please. I didn’t mean to—”
“You just walked past. Well now you know what it feels like. Now you know what it feels like to be down on the—argh!”
I didn’t know what had happened. Not until I saw a flash of black fur, then heard a growl.
“Bouncer!”
He was on the tramp’s neck. His teeth were snapping at the flesh.
On Bouncer’s left side, I could see a patch of blood, and it broke my heart.
As the man struggled to free himself from Bouncer’s attack, I stood up and lunged towards the man with my knife.
He toppled to the right, pulling the trigger as he collapsed, the bullet firing waywardly—but not far off hitting me.
I went down with him and tried to punch the gun from his hand. I kept on trying to knock it away, but he kept on firing, and I worried that eventually one of those bullets was going to make contact with Kesha, Bouncer or me.
“You ignored me!”
I felt a boot in my balls and a sickening ache filled my stomach.
Then the man knocked the knife away from my hand, and I was on my knees, defenceless, all over again.
The man stood up. He pulled his boot back and kicked me right in the teeth.
Then he crouched down right opposite me and smiled, revealing blackened teeth, and covering me in rancid breath.
“First I’m gonna put another bullet in your doggy.”
“Don’t you fucking—”
“And then we’re gonna sit here and watch them both die, eh?”
I felt my teeth grinding together like they used to when I was stressed. The man’s ankles were hard on my wrists. By the side, Bouncer turned around and licked at his bullet wound. I saw blood, but fortunately not too much, which meant he must’ve taken a graze. But it was clearly distressing him.
The man turned the gun around and pointed it to Bouncer’s head.
“Bouncer!”
“Ssh,” the man said. “The more you beg, the worse it’ll be. The more you beg, the—”
I did the only thing instinct told me to.
I lunged up with my mouth open.
I wrapped my teeth around the man’s Adam’s apple.
And I bit down.
Hard.
The confusion and pain sent the man tumbling backwards. I heard more gunshots, then just clicks of the gun.
And before I knew it I was on top of the man, still biting down, still tasting metallic blood covering my lips, spurting into my mouth.
“Please!” he begged.
But I kept on biting.
“P—please!”
He begged a few more times.
He didn’t finish begging.
My teeth finally met.
I pulled back and ripped the man’s throat away.
He lay there choking, gargling on his own blood, the taste of sweat and blood covering my lips.
I stood up, then. Stood up, patted Bouncer on his back, then walked over to Kesha, in a daze. I still couldn’t believe what I’d just done. What I’d been forced to do.
“I’ve got you,” I said, as blood rolled off my mouth.
I tightened the wire around her leg. I dabbed Bo
uncer’s wound. I saw to my people.
By my side, the homeless man who I’d ignored all those times lay perfectly still.
And in the reflection of the car, I saw the redness covering my mouth, and I knew what I was now.
What I had to be if I wanted to survive this world.
I was a savage.
And it was going to keep me and those I cared about alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
I looked ahead and my stomach turned when I saw my house in the distance.
The road was just as quiet as it ever was. Honestly, walking onto Cadley Causeway, it could’ve been any sleepy Sunday afternoon. Except I wasn’t so sure whether it was Sunday anymore. We never had problems with kids kicking balls against our cars, or people congregating on street corners. Nothing like that.
This could just be a normal day, even down to Mrs Jones’ red VW camper sitting in the drive with the passenger door open, as always.
But there was a new level of silence to the street that I knew differentiated it from every other time I’d been here.
The afternoon sun was low and peeked over the roofs of the semi-detached houses. The trees still stood tall, still dropping sap all over Gareth’s Range Rover. I chuckled when I saw it caked, imagined his reaction when he found it in this state.
But something told me Gareth wouldn’t be finding it anytime soon.
Something told me Gareth was long gone.
And that made me worry about Olivia and Kerry.
I heard Bouncer start to pant. When I looked down, I saw he was looking around, like he recognised his surroundings and was pleased to be finally back here. “That’s right, boy,” I said. “Home sweet home. Feels good, hmm?”
He looked up at me, a thankful expression on his face.
I was relieved that Bouncer was fine. Turned out the blood on his fur had just been a graze. Nothing a few stitches couldn’t sort out.
And by my other side, Kesha.
She was limping a little. Hobbling. But fortunately for her—and for all of us—her wound hadn’t been as bad as it first seemed either. I’d worried when we’d come under fire from the homeless guy back at the bridge. I thought she was losing loads of blood. But the wound was healing over.
Good job the homeless guy was drunk. His bad shots might just have saved some lives.