by Ryan Casey
An opening where people were going to burn.
But it wasn’t just this tower. There were smaller areas around it, too. Pikes with hay and foliage around the bottom of it. Pikes that people were going to hang from; that some were going to burn from.
It was going to be a massacre. A sheer show of sadistic strength.
And there was very little that anyone could do about it.
Unless…
She looked over at the tower. It was unguarded. Only a couple of people around it.
She scanned her surroundings and made her way over there.
She climbed up the ladder.
Went to reach inside the cage, to plant what she had to plant.
And then she heard footsteps.
She dropped away immediately. Looked around.
Someone was walking past.
Not Matthew.
Shit.
She waited for them to disappear before walking away from the cage, constantly aware of her surroundings.
She looked back over her shoulder again. Looked for a sign of Jack. All she saw were those white outfits. No indication that he was anywhere close by.
She moved ahead to an area further to the side of the tower and saw the first of the casualties.
There were four of them. Four people she recognised as prisoners from Jack’s group.
They were hanging from the pikes, throats slit, hands amputated.
The rest of the survivors from Jack’s group, gone.
She felt sick when she saw it. A couple of others looked uncertain, too.
But that was the problem with Matthew’s group.
He had worked out who the strongest and most sadistic were.
They were the ones who had survived.
They were the ones who thrived.
She looked around and didn’t see any sign of Matthew anywhere.
But she did see the tents where Jack’s people were being kept.
She walked along with the small group a little further.
And then when she got the chance, she broke free and snook off towards those tents.
She scanned her surroundings at all times. She felt like she was being followed; like she was being watched. She moved quickly from tent to tent, opening them, popping her head inside. But they were empty. All of them were empty.
She felt bad that she was prioritising anyone at all, but it was how it had to be. Jack’s people came first. That was the agreement.
And then they could focus on the others—if they got the chance.
Sever the head of the snake. That’s the words they’d said.
After that point… anything was possible.
She opened the next tent. Still no sign. And then the other.
She was about to give up when she opened a tent and saw them staring back at her.
The dog and the cat were chained together. Behind them, the three women, Candice, Hazel, Bella.
No sign of Emma.
They looked in her direction, still blindfolded, still chained. Candice was bleeding from her wrists, like she’d tried to get herself out of those chains.
“I need you to listen very carefully to me,” Susan said. “I’m going to set you free. But you aren’t going to run. Not until I give the signal. Not until the time is right. Okay?”
She heard the heavy breathing. Saw the shaking of heads.
She moved those blindfolds away. Looked right into their eyes.
“Do you understand? You have a chance. A chance to get away. But it has to be just right. Don’t try anything stupid. Wait for my call. I know… I know you don’t trust me, but I came here with Jack. We’re going to end this. And whether you like me or not… you have to believe in him. I did what I had to do to get myself and Jack here right now. Now it’s your turn to do what you have to do.”
She saw Hazel staring back at her. Saw the uncertainty in her eyes.
And then she saw her take a very visible deep breath and nod.
“Good,” she said. “Now do you know what they’ve done with Emma?”
She lowered Hazel’s gag. Moved the gags of the others, too.
And then eventually, they looked at one another as equals.
“What—what’s the plan?” Candice asked.
Susan took a deep breath. “Jack’s disguising as one of us. He’s going to work his way in here. And then he’s going to take Matthew out. But it might look like it’s not working. The plan might look like it’s failing. You need to trust me until I give the signal. Okay? When it’s time to break free… you’ll know.”
“And you’re sure this is gonna work?” Hazel asked.
Susan shook her head. “No. But it’s the best we’ve got.” She reached behind her back then, and handed knives to every one of them. “You’ll be needing these.”
They all looked at them, uncertain, then back up at Susan.
“Now do you know where Emma is?”
Candice shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“She has to be in one of these tents,” Susan said, hoping to God she was still okay. She looked back at the group. Saw the way they looked at her with such uncertainty; such unease.
And then she heard footsteps nearby and she knew there was no time to wait around.
“I’ll see you again,” Susan said. “Just… just ride this out. Be patient. You’ll know when the time’s right. I promise.”
They didn’t look convinced, but none of them said a word.
She left the tent and resumed her search. Time was running out. Where was she? She searched through more tents. But still no sign. Still no trace.
She went to make her move to the next tent when she heard movement behind.
She froze. Cooked up an excuse. She was just gathering more for the festival. She was just looking for someone.
But then she turned around and she saw him.
And she saw her.
Matthew was standing there.
Hands on Emma’s shoulders.
Smile on his face.
“Looking for someone, Susan?”
Chapter Forty-Five
Morgan Staylbridge was looking forward to the Festival more than anything.
It was a boiling day. Perfect weather for it. Took him back to holidays in Marbella; days sat boozing on the beach. That’s how he saw all of this, really. One long holiday.
Only this holiday, he got to scratch some of his most unsavoury itches.
He walked along the pathway, picking up his pace. The air was thick. The flames were making it even warmer. He could hear voices up ahead and he couldn’t shake his excitement.
He remembered the first time he’d watched someone die. He’d been Googling shit, came across some dodgy video one of his pub mates David sent out. Two Ukrainian blokes cracking a hammer against someone’s head.
And the thing that stuck with him about it?
The sounds. The pitiful animal sounds that suffering bloke made.
There was something else that stuck with him.
The way he couldn’t stop smiling when he watched it.
The way he couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to have that kind of power himself.
He’d got close to trying a few times. Caught a few rats, put them through hell, that sort of thing. But there was always that stopping point of societal convention in his way. It was always a step too far. There were always life things to think about. There was always the worry of prison, something Morgan found off-putting as hell.
But this world was different. This world gave him an opportunity to carry out his darkest urges.
And with Matthew’s group, it rewarded him for feeling that way.
So yeah. Life was good. Different, but good.
And today was going to be beautiful.
He didn’t think anything of the shuffling behind him. Not until he looked over his shoulder and didn’t see anyone there.
He frowned. At first, he thought it must just be another of Matthew’s people catching up w
ith him.
But there was no sign of anyone.
He turned back around, disregarding it. The two people ahead of him were quite far in front, now. He remembered what Matthew had said. He was worried about Susan; worried about what she might have planned. Everyone had to be on high alert; on guard for any possibility.
Could this be what Matthew had warned them about?
He looked around again. Still didn’t see anyone there. He thought about ignoring it; thought about just leaving it.
But then he tensed his fists and walked back. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
Besides. If he got a chance to crack a skull, he’d take it.
He walked back the way he’d come from. He couldn’t shake that sense someone was nearby, watching. He looked from left to right; scanned tree to tree.
But there was nobody.
He was alone.
He looked around, slowly. There was nobody here. Probably just an animal. He was losing his shit.
Besides. If he were late for the Festival, he’d lose his shit even more.
He didn’t want to be late for the spectacle.
He turned around and walked back the way he’d been heading before his distraction. He smirked at the thought of the things he was going to see; of the smells he was going to smell; the tastes he was going to taste…
He was too busy smirking away to notice the rustling behind him.
But he felt the splitting pain across his skull.
Heard that crack he’d fantasised over time and time again.
Except it was his own.
He fell to the ground and tasted blood.
The last thing he saw was a man standing above him, rock in hand.
Jack tightened the white clothes around his body and hoped to God he’d been subtle enough.
He’d tried to draw the big bloke off the main pathway. Didn’t want anyone else running into him.
And he’d had a few cautious moments where more of Matthew’s people passed by.
But he was dressed in the white clothing, now.
And best of all, he had a rifle in hand.
He held that rifle and thought through the plan. He was going to get in the middle of the festival. He was going to wait for the perfect moment, and then he was going to take Matthew out.
Even if it came to a last-minute scenario, which he was hoping it wouldn’t. A backup plan.
He didn’t even want to think about that.
In the chaos, Susan was going to signal the others to make a break for it, taking out as many as they could in the process.
It was messy. But it was the best chance they had.
They didn’t have the luxury of options now.
He ran onto the pathway, made his way towards that festival. He couldn’t see anyone ahead anymore. Truth be told, he hadn’t seen anyone for a while.
It unsettled him a little.
There was something else, too, as he kept on going. And that was the realisation that everything had gone quiet. Really quiet.
Considering a festival was about to start… something just felt off.
He kept on walking. Held that rifle just as the man held it, nonchalant but willing to lift it at a moment’s whim if he had to.
He walked past more torches. Walked further towards the centre of this labyrinth.
And then he saw it.
There was a tower in front of him.
A huge wooden tower.
It looked like there was an opening in the middle of it, where people could be squeezed into.
And then beside this tower, there were pikes.
Five people already hung from them.
Five people he recognised as people from Heathwaite’s.
They were already dead.
Throats slit.
Everyone but Emma.
He wanted to go over there and set them free when he heard something to his left.
He looked around and he saw movement.
And then he saw…
His mouth went dry.
He tried to maintain his composure.
Tried to hold his disgust.
But he couldn’t.
Hazel.
Candice.
Bella.
Villain.
Mrs Fuzzles.
And Emma.
He almost fell to his knees when he saw her.
She was alive.
Missing a hand, but alive.
But then something else caught Jack’s eye.
Right at the centre of them, right in front of Matthew… Susan.
Matthew looked at him, smile on his face.
Jack’s instinct was to lift his rifle and fire.
But Matthew was holding a knife to Susan’s neck.
“Hello, Jack,” Matthew said. “How nice of you to join us again.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Jack looked at Matthew as he stood there, knife to Susan’s neck, and he felt the whole plan tumbling to pieces right before his eyes.
Everyone he cared about was here. Hazel. Candice. Bella. Emma. Villain. Mrs Fuzzles. All of them were standing there with someone behind each of them. All of them had knives to their throats.
He wanted to lift his rifle and gun Matthew down right away.
But one wrong move and Jack knew it was over.
If it wasn’t already over.
The second Villain saw him, he tried to run towards Jack, but the man standing behind him tugged back on his lead, making him gasp.
Jack’s fists tensed when he saw Villain in pain. He wanted to go over there. He wanted to be with him. He wanted to comfort him and tell him everything was going to be okay, especially after what’d happened to Nymeria.
But he couldn’t do that. Not just because he was surrounded, but because he couldn’t be sure things were going to be okay.
Matthew looked right at Jack and smiled. “Pleasure for you to join us. You know, I thought about hiding Susan somewhere. Pretending she’d drawn you here, just like she drew others here, so many times. But I figure you’ve got a lot on your plate right now as it is.”
Jack looked at Matthew, then at the people standing around him, all glaring back at him, weapons raised. Behind them all, that tower. A wooden tower that Jack knew the purpose of, even if he didn’t want to face it or admit it.
“What the hell do you want?” Jack asked.
Matthew smiled. “All this way, all this loss, and you still don’t know the answer to that question? Oh dear, Jack. You really are far more stupid than you look. It’s a shame, really. I think you could’ve been an asset. Just like Emma here.”
He looked over at Emma and for a moment, Jack saw the shame in her eyes. He didn’t know what’d happened to her. He didn’t know what she’d been through at the hands of this lunatic.
He just hoped she was okay.
“Let my people go,” Jack said, his voice shaky. “Let… let them go and we can go our separate ways.”
“See, you had a chance to walk away,” Matthew interrupted. “You had a chance to accept defeat when we left you in the woods. You had a chance to start afresh. To start over. Because that’s all anyone really wants, right? The chance to start again? But you just couldn’t stay away, could you? You came here. You killed one of my people. And now you stand here pointing a rifle when you know damn well it’s going to get your people killed. So I suggest you lower that rifle. Right this second. Or there’ll be trouble.”
Jack wanted to lower that rifle. He could feel his hands shaking. There had to be another way.
But then he felt a rival force.
He lifted his rifle. Pointed it at Matthew. “No.”
Matthew frowned. “What?”
“I won’t lower my rifle. Not until I know my people are okay. And… and Susan. She’s one of us now.”
Matthew laughed. He shook his head. “Oh, this one? This piece of work? You really have no idea what she’s capable of.”
He put the blade to Susan’s neck, sliced j
ust a little until she bled.
“No,” he said. “No, I think we’ll hold on to Susan here. And my demands stand. You’re on my territory. Lower that rifle. Or I’ll put down every single person here. And don’t think I won’t—”
“I don’t think you will,” Jack said.
Matthew’s frown extended. “What did you just say?”
Jack knew he was risking it, but he was so caught in the moment that he couldn’t stop. “My people. You captured them for a reason. I don’t think you’ll kill them all in cold blood right now. I think you have other plans for them. Other intentions.”
Matthew sighed. He lowered his knife.
And then he walked over to Villain. Ruffled his fur.
“Don’t touch him.”
Matthew looked over at Jack as Villain licked his lips nervously. “You think I wouldn’t hurt him?”
He moved the blade to his throat.
“Matthew. Please. Don’t hurt him—”
“You think I’d hesitate?”
“No. I… Just let him live. Please.”
He held that blade to his neck.
And then he lowered it. Smirked.
“I’ve killed enough damned dogs for one week.”
He walked back to Susan, then. Grabbed her, put that blade to her throat. “No, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen here. You’re going to lower that rifle. And then you’re going to make a choice.”
“A choice?”
“You’re going to decide,” Matthew said. “You’re going to decide who lives, and you’re going to decide who dies.”
Jack felt a void open up inside. “Nobody dies.”
“See, that’s not an option, I’m afraid. Somebody has to die. And if you don’t lower that rifle, everyone will die. So make your choice. Right this second.”
Jack wanted to lift that rifle and pull the trigger. He couldn’t lose anyone.
But then he couldn’t lose everyone, either.
Whether he liked it or not, he had a choice to make.
He lowered his rifle.
Dropped it to his feet.
Matthew smiled. “Good. Now this is where you decide.”
He pushed Susan to her knees.
And then he walked over to Villain’s side and pushed him down, too.