by Ryan Casey
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Tamara called. “Or at least a chemist or something. Find some Tegretol or Carbatrol. They should keep her from any more seizures anytime soon.”
“Will they wake her up?” Riley asked.
“We can’t force her to wake up. We just have to let the seizure run its course. But we can’t force her to wake up.”
The news hit Riley in the gut like a punch. He’d barely even come to terms with the fact that Pedro had gone. Nobody had, not really. They hadn’t had time to. And now Jordanna was lying here, unconscious, at risk of death.
It was all so inexplicable. Jordanna collapsing. The weird, tar-covered creature with the sharp teeth. The screeching noise that caused the creatures’ heads to explode. It was all just so … nonsensical.
So unfamiliar.
“What happened to the monsters, Riley?”
Chloë’s voice took Riley by surprise. They hadn’t spoken at all this journey so far. But now she was beside him, staring down at Jordanna. The way her pale cheeks were puffy told Riley she’d been crying.
Riley gulped. “I … I wish I knew.”
“You said you heard something. What did you hear?”
Riley looked at Chloë. He still wasn’t sure about her. Wasn’t sure whether to trust her. After all, they wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for her. Pedro would be alive. Jordanna wouldn’t be in this condition. “I found your ring. Just so you know.”
He didn’t like the way the words left his mouth. They felt bitter. Like he was clutching at any straw to take out his anger. But he’d said the words, and Chloë was looking at him with narrowed eyes now.
Eyes that knew they’d been rumbled.
Riley pulled Chloë’s ring he’d found by Dr Wellingborough’s offices out of his pocket and popped it into her open hand. Behind Chloë, Tiffany looked on with wide eyes, her cheeks flushing.
Riley kept his eyes fixed on Chloë. She looked down at the ring in her hand. She’d gone very, very quiet.
“Anything to say about it?” Riley asked.
“It … it was an accident. I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to ‘what’? Let the doctor’s creatures loose? Cause a shitload of deaths? Put Jordanna in this fucking bed right now, and Pedro in an early grave?”
Tears welled up in Chloë’s eyes and Riley felt instantly guilty, but he couldn’t stop.
“You just … you just ruin things,” he said, his voice wobbling. “You … you ruin everything. Right from the start. You ruined the Chinese restaurant by killing Jill. You … you ruined Anna’s life. You killed her. And … you’ve killed everyone, Chloë. You’ve killed everyone.”
Tears streamed down Chloë’s scarred cheeks. Tamara had stopped the vehicle and was leaning through the hatch. “What the fuck’s going on?”
But Riley and Chloë just kept on staring at one another and all Riley could see was the hurt. The hurt Chloë was experiencing. The guilt.
But the monster underneath that she’d become.
“Tamara, I …”
“Don’t,” Chloë said. “Please.”
Riley gulped. He looked away. He knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew they should all stick together. But enough was enough. Chloë had lost her humanity. She’d done too many horrible things.
“Riley,” Tamara shouted. “What the hell is going on back there?”
Riley stared into Chloë’s eyes. Behind her, Tiffany held her head down, like she knew she was so close to being rumbled.
“Tell her, Chloë,” Riley said. “Tell her what you did. Tell her what you’ve done. All the things you’ve done.”
Chloë’s lips quivered. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I … I …”
“We broke into Dr. Wellingborough’s office for a joke.”
The voice came from behind Chloë.
It was Tiffany.
She stepped up beside Chloë and took her hand. She looked the most assertive Riley had ever seen her, with her back up straight and her head held high.
“We broke in there with Annabelle and we opened the door to the dead ones in his offices. Annabelle didn’t get away, but we did. We started what happened at the MLZ. All of it.”
Annabelle. Fuck, Riley hadn’t even thought about Annabelle. “Annabelle—what happened to—”
“She got bit,” Tiffany said. “And she turned. And then the dead ones got free.”
James observed the scene in silence. Tamara looked through the grating with a slack jaw, like she couldn’t understand the words coming out of Tiffany’s mouth.
Riley looked into Chloë’s eyes. He could see a waterfall of tears behind them. Tears just begging to erupt, like confessions.
Tamara cleared her throat. “It was an accident, I’m sure.”
“I wanted Annabelle dead,” Chloë said.
The words struck Riley in the chest, cast a silence over the armoured vehicle again. Even Tiffany looked at Chloë with an uncertain frown.
“I … I wanted her dead,” Chloë blubbered, the words slipping out of her mouth like fizzy drink from a shaken-up bottle. “She was mean to her so I wanted her dead. Just—just like I wanted Moustache Man dead and—and just like I left Angela and Peter to die and … and just like I shot Anna.”
Her eyes met Riley’s.
The honesty tore him apart inside.
“I killed Anna because I thought you were the bad people and—and I wanted to hurt someone. I wanted to hurt someone for—for killing my mum. I wanted to hurt someone for killing my sister. I wanted to hurt someone all my life.”
The honesty of Chloë’s words were painful for Riley to listen to. Painful because he felt awful for making her say them. For confronting her on what she’d done.
Painful because everything Chloë was telling him went far, far beyond his initial thoughts.
Tamara climbed out of the front of the vehicle and stepped into the back. She stood by Riley’s side. Stared down at Chloë.
“You … you started the outbreak? At the MLZ?”
Chloë gulped. Nodded her head.
For a moment, Riley thought Tamara might slap Chloë. That all the well-controlled grief over Pedro might bubble over the surface and explode.
But instead, she just turned around and walked back through the front of the armoured vehicle.
She’d heard what she wanted to hear.
“You’d have had to go anyway,” Chloë said. “To Birmingham. For—for the cure.”
“But I would’ve had backup,” Riley said, unable to contain his anger. “I would’ve had proper backup. Instead, the real backup is at MLZ fighting off the creatures you let out. And Pedro is dead. Jordanna—Jordanna, who’s looked out for you like a mother these last few months—she’s lying unconscious on this bed. So yes, I would’ve had to have gone. But not like this, Chloë. Not like this.”
Riley turned away. Looked at Jordanna. Tears streamed down his face. He didn’t know what else to say to Chloë. He didn’t know what else there was to say. He remembered what Jordanna said about revenge and anger. That sometimes it was a good thing to hold onto.
But he didn’t want to hold onto his anger at Chloë. It wasn’t healthy.
“We’ll leave,” Tiffany said.
Riley looked at her. He was amazed just how much she’d pulled herself together to stick up for Chloë. She always seemed the meek, weak one compared to the strength of Chloë. Always seemed so shy, whereas seeing Chloë sobbing away was just as difficult a pill to swallow.
“Leave where?”
Chloë wiped her cheeks. Tiffany shrugged. “We’ll find a way to survive out there. Chloë did it for a long time. And … and people are doing it all the time. We’ll find a way.”
Riley couldn’t believe he was actually having this conversation. He’d known Chloë since the very first of the Dead Days. Seen her peeking in the upstairs room at the Chinese restaurant at him from behind her mum, her sister by her side. She looked so inq
uisitive, back then. So … mischievous.
“You don’t have to go,” Riley said.
Chloë shook her head. Wiped her eyes again. Sniffed up. “We do. We … we just do.”
And Riley couldn’t argue with Chloë because he knew she was right.
She grabbed a black rucksack she’d carried with her the whole journey. Put a few cans of food and bottles of water inside for the trip. She slowed down as she walked past Jordanna. Looked at her as she lay there unconscious on the bed. Opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then turned to Riley instead. “Tell her I’m … tell her I’m sorry?”
Riley nodded. He was too tired to argue. Too tired to go through this right now.
Chloë opened the door at the side of the armoured vehicle, Tiffany by her side. Chloë looked out into the darkness. A breeze worked its way inside, freshened and cooled the clammy air.
“You don’t have to go,” Riley said. “We can … we can come back. From the things we’ve done. We can come back.”
Chloë just smiled. Shook her head. Looked wise beyond her years—which was to be expected living in a world where she’d seen so much pain.
“I hope so,” she said.
She took Tiffany’s hand and stepped out of the vehicle and onto the motorway.
Riley sat completely still, completely quiet. The door was still open, the breeze from outside brushing its way through. James was silent. Jordanna was, obviously, silent. Tamara, who sat gripping the steering wheel, was silent.
Fuck. What had he done? What had he done?
Chloë had done horrible things. But she was just a kid. Just a kid who’d had to grow up in this awful world.
Riley’s heart pounded. He saw clearly. He needed to call for her. Get her back here. Because she’d been with him since the start. And he couldn’t just let her go. She was his responsibility. They’d all done bad things. And it wasn’t safe outside. Those kids wouldn’t last a day.
He threw himself to the door and looked across the dark motorway, prepared to shout.
His stomach sank.
He stared into the dark. Looked at the outlines of the abandoned cars. Saw the trees swaying in the breeze over at the embankment.
Chloë and Tiffany were already gone.
***
When Chloë was a little girl, she used to hate the cold.
She says, “when she was a little girl.” What she really means is a year or two ago. Because back then, she was a lot younger, in a way. Because what she’d seen since then had changed her. What she’d done had forced her to grow up.
She might only be in early high school years, but she was much, much older inside.
She walked over the motorway embankment. The muddy, sloshy grass splashed up the sides of her blue jeans. A cold breeze froze her cheeks. She could hear the armoured vehicle’s engine running on the motorway behind them. And a part of her wanted to go back. A part of her wanted to run back there and beg Riley to let her join them again.
And he would let her. He’d forgive her. Because he was a good man.
“I think we’re doing the right thing,” Tiffany said. She held Chloë’s hand tightly as they reached the top of the motorway embankment. “And—and if anything goes wrong, we know where they are. We know where to go. We can survive this.”
Chloë didn’t have any words left in her for Tiffany. She felt good to have her by her side. That was something.
But Tiffany was much … stronger than Chloë expected. Much tougher talking. And she hadn’t seen that side of Tiffany before. She’d only seen the shy side. The side that blushed when they made eye contact back at the MLZ.
This Tiffany was different. She wasn’t a Tiffany that would let Chloë save her, look after her. Because that’s the way it was supposed to be.
Chloë pulled her hand away from Tiffany’s and wiped the tears from her scarred face. “You should go back,” she said.
Tiffany frowned. “Go back where? To those people that don’t care about me? Those people that—that everyone dies around? Why would I go back there?”
Chloë pondered Tiffany’s words. “You’re wrong. People don’t die around Riley and the group. They die around me.”
Chloë took a step over the embankment as the cold wind picked up. She had to find somewhere safe. Somewhere like home where she could just stay in for a while, away from other people.
Because she wasn’t good around people. She brought bad luck to people.
Everyone close to her died.
“What you said,” Tiffany said. “About killing Annabelle. About wanting to see her dead. I can understand that. I can believe it.”
“But it doesn’t make it right,” Chloë said.
Tiffany slid down the hill and caught up with her. “No it doesn’t. But sometimes we do things that aren’t right anymore. It’s why we’re still here.”
Chloë just shook her head. She was sick of hearing people make excuses for her behaviour, for everyone’s behaviour. “I don’t deserve to be around anybody.”
She pushed around Tiffany and headed further down the muddy slope.
Tiffany held out a hand and stopped her.
She looked into Chloë’s eyes. Looked into them with those sparkling blue eyes of her own, her wavy dark hair blowing in the breeze. Chloë felt a warmth inside her. Felt that nice feeling she felt whenever she looked into Tiffany’s eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Tiffany said.
She lowered her hand back to Chloë’s. Rubbed the back of it.
Chloë wanted to hold Tiffany’s hand. But she didn’t deserve her. She didn’t deserve any happiness.
“Why are you even here?” Chloë asked.
Tiffany stepped right up to Chloë. Their faces were just centimetres away. Chloë felt the heat inside again. The urge to close her eyes and put her lips against Tiffany’s, as their clouding breath crossed paths in front of one another.
“I’m here because you’re my best friend,” Tiffany said.
And then she wrapped her arms around Chloë’s back and squeezed her.
Chloë stood rigid for a few seconds. She just let the warmth of Tiffany inside her. Felt her neck resting against her shoulder, smelled the sweatiness of her hair that was still so lovely.
She put her arms on Tiffany’s back and hugged her in turn.
As she felt Tiffany’s heart beating into her chest, a small part of Chloë hoped that Riley or Tamara or James would call her name. Or that Jordanna would wake up and shout for her to come back.
But there was nothing but silence. Nothing but the whooshing of the wind against the abandoned cars. Nothing but the beating of Tiffany’s heart, the sound of her throaty breathing. Nothing but the rumbling of the armoured vehicle’s engine.
Nothing but …
Footsteps.
Chloë pulled herself away from Tiffany and looked into the darkness down the embankment. “Did you hear that?”
Tiffany frowned, squinted in the direction Chloë was looking. “Hear what?”
Chloë stared down into the dark. She squinted. Tried her best to see. She’d brought a torch along with her, but she wanted to save the battery until she absolutely needed it.
Right now, she felt like she absolutely needed it.
She crouched down. Kept her eyes on the darkness. Reached inside the rucksack and pulled out the little metal torch.
She hit the switch and the light flickered on, revealing more muddy grass ahead.
She moved the light over the area in front. Looked right down to the bottom of the embankment, where a silver gate crossed over into a farmer’s field. Specks of cold rain joined the wind in brushing against her cheeks.
“See? There’s nothing. Shall we get a move on?”
Chloë listened. Listened to the sound of the wind. To her own breathing. To the rumbling of the armoured vehicle engine.
Nothing.
“There’s nothing, Chlo. Just the wind. Scared of a bit of wind?”
Chloë
kept on pointing the torch down the embankment. She had a funny feeling inside. She’d had these funny feelings a few times since the monsters rose. Like someone was close by. Watching her.
Sometimes, the funny feelings came to nothing. They were just a funny feeling that she had and then forgot about.
But other times …
“Chloë, we’d better get moving. It’s not safe to be near the motorway like this.”
Chloë lowered the torch. Went to switch it off.
As she did, she heard the footsteps sloshing through the mud again.
She lifted it. Saw something move in the light. Pointed the torch in the direction the light had moved to. Nothing. Nothing at all.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t see and hear that,” Chloë said, her body frozen.
Tiffany didn’t respond.
“Tiff. You saw that too, didn’t …”
When Chloë looked to her left, Tiffany was gone.
A pure, crushing sense of dread wrapped around Chloë. She felt completely frozen. Down the embankment, she heard the footsteps sloshing around again. To her left. To her right. Everywhere.
Her heart raced. She felt sickly. She could still hear the engine of the armoured vehicle. She just had to get back to it. Just had to get back.
She turned back to the top of the embankment and ran up it as fast as she could. The grass was slippery and muddy. Bits of soil crumbled beneath her feet.
Behind her, the sloshing footsteps getting closer.
“Wait!” Chloë shouted.
She scrambled to the top of the embankment. The rain was pouring down heavier now. Thunder roared overhead. The wind, the cold, the footsteps, all of it was so horrible.
She wanted her mum.
She wanted everything to be okay again.
She reached the top of the embankment, panting, and looked over at the armoured vehicle in the middle of the motorway. She could see Tamara in the driver’s section. She just had to get her attention. She just had to—