by Ryan Casey
My eyes refocused as the man crouched opposite me.
He was well-built, muscular, with dark curly hair and pockmarked skin. He looked pretty good looking like he might’ve been a personal trainer or something like that, once upon a time.
He looked into my eyes with twitching eyelids, studying me with a silent curiosity like I was some kind of lab rat.
I tried to speak, but the sock was still in my way. The man didn’t seem to register I was trying to speak at first. When he did, he moved his hand towards my face. For a moment, I half-expected him to punch me.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he pulled the sock from my mouth and threw it to the floor.
I could see the door behind him was open, creaking a little in the breeze. I knew I could probably shout out and make some kind of a scene. But he didn’t seem to mind. And if he did mind, he certainly wasn’t showing it.
The silence between us stretched on for longer until eventually, I could only say one thing.
“My wife. Kerry. Where is she?”
The man’s eyes widened. His cheeks flushed. He looked like I’d said something that triggered an emotion inside him. I just didn’t know what that emotion was.
He reached for the floor and picked the sock back up with his shaking hands.
“No. Wait. Pl—”
He pushed my head back against the wall and stuffed the sock so hard into my mouth that I almost choked.
Then he grabbed the sack and tightened it around my head so hard that breathing was difficult.
I shook. I kicked out. I tried to shout. But in the end, it was useless.
I heard his heavy, clumsy footsteps traipsing back towards the door.
I heard them stop, and I knew he was turning round, looking at me.
And then I heard the door slam shut, and I knew I was in the darkness all over again.
Although this time, I knew something else.
This man knew my wife.
Somehow, he knew my wife.
And he was hiding the truth from me.
Chapter Thirty
When Kerry heard the muffled shouts, she knew something was definitely wrong.
She was in their house—Stu and her. Well. It wasn’t exactly a house. More an industrial office they’d made a home of. It had a makeshift bed and a little kitchen area where they could eat their food, play board games, and the like. It was cosy enough and nice enough.
But Stu had told her to stay here while he went and did something.
She didn’t like being told what she could and couldn’t do. It set her alarm bells ringing.
She looked out of the window. The industrial complex looked so quiet and serene. There was usually a bustle of life. Thirty-two people lived here, including her, and most of them came from different families and background, so there was usually someone bustling around within the grounds.
Today, that was different. There was hardly anyone around.
To Kerry, that was unsettling.
She walked over to the door. She’d heard the muffled shouts, followed by a door slamming. She’d looked out and seen Stu walking away from that room he so often visited—the room he claimed was his “office”—looking particularly stressed and red-faced about something. He’d even looked up at her, and for a split second, she didn’t recognise that man. He looked so full of rage. So full to the point that she wasn’t sure she even felt safe around him anymore.
No. That was all in her head. Stu was a good person. He’d never do anything to hurt anyone.
Of course, he did sometimes have to make tough calls with people who didn’t look… well, the right fit for this place. That was just the world they lived in now. The good thing about Stu was he could separate one thing from another. He could do something he didn’t really want to do, and then not let it drain his soul too much when he came back home.
He was a pragmatist. Kerry was a pragmatist too.
Probably what made them such a good fit.
Probably what was lacking when Will and she were together…
Wait. Where did that thought come from?
Still, standing there alone in the silence of her home, Kerry couldn’t stop the thoughts and the curiosities about what exactly Stu was up to spinning through her mind. He was up to something that was for sure. And as much as she wanted to take a step back from whatever he was doing, give him space to just get on with things, there was something about this that just felt… well. It felt different. It felt alien.
She didn’t like it.
She looked over her shoulder as if by some chance, there might be someone watching.
Then she turned back to the door. “Stuff it. Stuff the lot of it.”
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
She almost jumped out of her skin when she saw that Stu was standing right in front of the door.
He didn’t quite have that weird look on his face anymore. But he still didn’t look totally attached to the present moment, almost as if he too didn’t recognise her somewhat.
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
Kerry moved her mouth, trying to speak. “Stu… What—”
“Hey,” he said. And in an instant, the colour returned to his cheeks. He smiled. He reached for her, which made her flinch a little, and he wrapped his arms around her softly. “You don’t have to worry about my work. I just had to go down to the office.”
“To do what?”
A pause.
“Stu?”
“To sort a few things out.”
There it was. The vague, intangible response that Kerry had been expecting, and which she knew she deserved better than. “What things?”
Stu pulled away slowly. There was a little more cloudiness to his eyes now. “Just things.”
“Like the person you’ve got in there?”
Stu opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Not for a while. She thought for a second he looked mad, or let down.
Then, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Kerry. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to—”
She reached out her hand and rested it on his chest. “It’s okay.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“You have to… you have to do some things you’re not proud of sometimes. I get that. I just wish you’d be more straight up with me. More honest. Because if we can’t trust each other, then what do we have?”
Stu looked like he had something else to say.
But in the end, he just shook his head and exhaled like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. “I love you, Kerry.”
He pulled Kerry in close. She felt his warm body wrapped around hers. For a moment, she felt safe. Totally safe.
Then she saw it.
She couldn’t make it out at first. She couldn’t figure out what it was.
But after realising what it was, it started to dawn on her who it was.
She saw people stepping out of their homes, all of them looking at one another, and then looking in amazement at this thing.
Without thinking, she found herself pushing Stu away, staggering outside, even though he was still saying things to her, trying to get her attention.
She walked over to the front of their home, towards the fire escape steps, and then she rushed down them.
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
She couldn’t accept this was true.
But there was no mistaking it. There might be others like him, but there was no doubting the colour, the size, and the collar.
“Bouncer?” she said.
Bouncer turned his head. He tilted it to either side like he didn’t recognise her. And for a moment, Kerry wondered if she was going insane. Because this couldn’t be Bouncer. Bouncer couldn’t be alive. He couldn’t be because that meant…
Her disbelief was punctured when Bouncer pulled back his ears and pounded in her direction.
When he jumped up at her, pinned her down, licked her face and whined.
“Oh, Bouncer,” she sa
id, petting him, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’ve missed you, boy. I’ve missed you so much.”
She hadn’t thought it yet. She was too enamoured and amazed by Bouncer’s return. But she would have the thought, soon. The thought Stu was having right now.
The reunion with Bouncer changed things.
It changed everything.
It was time for a change of plan.
Chapter Thirty-One
So it was back to the old “try and dislocate your frigging shoulders and hope for the frigging best” plan again.
I still had the sack over my head, so I was still enshrouded in darkness. But the man who’d faced me not long ago—the man who I was certain knew my wife from the way he’d reacted when I’d said her name—hadn’t noticed one thing when he’d taken the sack from my head.
I’d checked the pipe. And I’d seen it would be possible for me to twist my shoulders over a loose gap in it if I stood up high enough on my tiptoes.
It was just a case of… well. Trying my best not to destroy my spine in the process.
I took a few breaths, as deep as I could manage, and bit down on the sock, which was too far in my mouth for me to find comfortable in any way. Not that it’d ever truly be comfortable.
Then, I stood up and lifted my arms as high as I could.
Already, I could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. I’d never dislocated my shoulders before, and I wasn’t sure I even could. Mum used to be able to, and just hearing that crack they made when they spun fully around was sickening. She was into her yoga, and she used to tell me it was all just about state of mind, of conquering those mental barriers. She’d kept on doing her yoga like that right until her old age, the memory of her cracking shoulders still haunting—and sickening me a little—to this very day.
I’d never in my life thought I’d be sitting here hoping I was able to do my mum’s weird party trick. But hey. Life was unpredictable like that.
I bit harder on the sock and lifted my arms even higher. I could feel the muscles in my back and shoulders tightening, telling me to stop doing this, that I must be insane or something for even trying. I felt tears roll down my face, not that I was crying, just another way my body was telling me that what I was doing went against everything right biologically, skeletally.
It’s all in the mind. It’s all just a mental barrier. You can conquer it.
I thought of my family, then. Olivia. Bouncer. Kerry. Even Kesha and Rosie.
I thought of them, and I pushed right against the tension in my back.
I felt a twinge crack through my spine, and I tumbled down towards the floor in pain.
I lay there for a few seconds. My back and shoulders hurt, but they were still very much behind me. Shit. I’d bottled it. Right at the last minute, I’d bottled it. It was too painful. Way too hard. I wasn’t ever going to get out of here.
Then I thought about the look in that man’s eyes again. The way I’d seen the recognition on his face when I’d said my wife’s name.
He knew Kerry.
He knew her.
I remembered Danny, the cannibal nut I’d had no hesitation in killing. He said Kerry was still alive. If he too knew Kerry, then maybe this group had something to do with Danny’s old group?
I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t know for certain.
I just had to get the hell out of this place.
I stood up again. The pain in my back and shoulders was spreading to my head. I just had to get this done with as little thought as possible.
Over the pipe. Snap back into place. Done. “Bob’s your uncle,” as we say in Lancashire.
And if it didn’t work, well. It’d be armless enough. Armless. Haha. You have to be cheery in situations like this. Right?
Okay. Wrong.
I pushed my arms to the limit once more. Again, the tears started rolling. I ground my teeth together so hard that I swear I heard one of them crack.
It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered more than getting my arms over.
Nothing mattered more than finding out what’d happened to Kerry.
I let out a small cry when my shoulders reached peak pain. My knees buckled, and in my mind’s eye, I saw Olivia screaming at me, telling me to stop.
Then I dropped to the floor again.
The breath kicked out of my body. I lay there, slumped, in pain.
It took a few seconds to realise something.
My arms weren’t behind the pipe anymore.
They were in front of me.
I scrambled to pull the sack from my head, as much as my shoulders were on fire, totally stiff and in need of a good… well, turning back, in all truth.
I spat the sock out of my mouth. Then I stood up and ran across the dusty floor, over to the door.
I had to get out of here.
But… shit. I had to play things right, too. I couldn’t put myself in danger. I had to stay alive. I had to keep it cool.
I moved slowly over to the door. I pressed my ear to it and closed my eyes. I listened for voices or movement outside, but I didn’t hear a thing.
I grabbed the handle, took a deep breath, went to turn it.
The handle turned before I could finish.
The door flew open.
It smacked me in the forehead and knocked me back to the floor.
I clutched at my head. The door had hit me hard. So hard, in fact, that I was bleeding.
I put my palm to my forehead and felt the disappointment settle in my body. I wasn’t getting out of this place. I wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Then I saw the figures standing at the door.
The first one… well, the first one wasn’t human.
It was dog.
My dog.
Bouncer.
I felt elation when Bouncer ran towards me—when he licked my wounded head. I felt so delighted to be reunited with him, so happy he was okay.
But it was the person that had been with him that I was more focused on.
I saw her blonde hair hanging onto her skinny shoulders.
I saw her hands in front of her, moving over one another like they always did when she was nervous.
I saw her wide, blue eyes, and that look of stunned amazement in them, just like I must’ve had.
But I still didn’t believe it.
Not until she opened her mouth and said the word.
“Will?”
And then not until I opened my mouth and said the word I’d been waiting to say for so, so long.
“Kerry?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
I looked at Kerry, and Kerry looked back at me, both of us stunned to a totally muted silence.
The light from behind silhouetted her, making her look angelic—as cliché as that sounded, it was true. There was a breeze from outside, which ruffled her silvery hair. Right away, when she’d stepped in here, I could smell her scent. That might sound weird, but it was also true. Even though she’d no doubt not had a decent shower for a year, just like me, there was still something about her that just smelled… well, Kerry.
I wouldn’t tell her that, though. Didn’t want to destroy her self-esteem in one fell swoop.
I stood up, patting Bouncer as I rose to my feet. My shoulders were still sore after breaking free of that pipe, but they’d seemed to fade into the background now too, which surely meant the damage I’d done to them wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. I didn’t know whether to go up to her, hug her, kiss her, whatever, and I could tell from the way she was staring vacantly at me that she was in the same position.
When I finally mustered up the courage to take a step towards her, I saw someone appear behind her.
It was the man. The one who’d stood over me not long ago. He looked at me and then at Kerry, then back at me again.
“Kerry, you shouldn’t be here,” he said.
“It’s—it’s Will.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“My husband. My ex-husband. I
t’s Will, Stu. It’s Will.”
I saw the man—Stu—look at me, and something told me he’d already known who I was for a while now. But he was playing the part right.
What concerned me more than anything was how at ease Kerry seemed to be with Stu.
And just how muted this whole reunion really was.
I walked towards Kerry, the cuffs still around my wrists. I’d pictured our reunion several times. I saw myself wrapping my arms around her, holding her, and her falling back into mine.
But she didn’t fall into my arms.
And I couldn’t wrap my bloody arms around her because I still had cuffs on my wrists.
“If I’d known,” Stu said, rubbing the back of his head, “I would’ve told you. I swear.”
Kerry looked around at Stu. She studied him for a few seconds. Then she smiled. “Give me a few minutes alone with him. Please.”
Stu hesitated. “But—”
“I was with this man for eleven years, Stu. He isn’t a threat. You don’t have to worry about me.”
As Stu sighed and turned away, I knew it wasn’t Kerry’s safety he was worried about.
He left, partly closing the door behind him and enveloping the pair of us in darkness.
Kerry walked up to me then. She put her arms around mine, slowly, and rested her warm, soft head on my left shoulder. I couldn’t see properly in the darkness, but I could tell she was crying.
“I thought you were…”
“It’s okay,” I said, kissing her scalp. “I’m here.”
“But—but how? How did you… how are…”
“Kerry, I never stopped looking for you. I walked back down from Scotland with Bouncer. I… I went back home, and then I went down towards London.”
“Olivia,” Kerry said, her eyes widening. “That place. I never meant to leave her there. It was just—”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Olivia. She’s okay.”
Kerry’s eyes widened, as did her mouth. She collapsed to her knees, gasping with pain and relief. I crouched down, rested my head against hers. By our side, Bouncer whined, licking our faces.