by Ryan Casey
“Come on,” Jack said, Susan by his side. “It’s time we got out of here.”
He looked at Matthew once more as he lay dead on the ground.
And then he turned around, Susan by his side, and he walked off into the burning woods.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Jack looked back at the flames rising above the forest and thought about how close he’d come to losing it all.
It was a nice evening. Quiet. Peaceful. But the memory of the day’s events played on his mind. He’d come so close to losing Hazel. To losing Emma. To losing Villain. To losing everyone.
It was only because he stepped up right at the death that he was able to conquer Matthew and his people, once and for all.
And in the process, he’d been able to conquer his flaw, too.
He saw it clearly for what it was, now. He didn’t want to be leader. He’d run from it. He’d hid from it.
But sometimes you didn’t get to decide.
Sometimes, you just had to accept what was rightly yours.
It came with losses. It came with tragedy.
But you had to have the conviction to own your decisions.
Jack knew he had to step up and accept that, now.
They were back at Heathwaite’s. It wasn’t a nice task, cleaning up the remains of the bodies. They went out into the woods, buried the dead. They looked after the living.
And it was tragic. It was sad, seeing this perfect idyll so torn and broken. It was sad that bar a couple of others, they were the only ones left.
It was far from perfect.
But it was as close as they were going to get.
That was a fact Jack had to accept.
He had been trying to run from it for so long because he was worried about it slipping from their grip.
But he hadn’t really faced up to the fact that nothing was permanent. Everything slipped from their grip, eventually.
For now, they had to make the most of it while they had it.
He heard footsteps to his right.
When he looked up, he saw Hazel.
She was holding Mrs Fuzzles, who remarkably looked fatter after the whole ordeal with Matthew. There was an awkwardness between him and Hazel that reminded Jack of when he was a teenager. It was all because of what Matthew had said when he’d been locked in that cage.
The woman you love…
“How’s it going?” Hazel asked.
Jack looked around at the chicken coop. Marie Osmond was alpha now, bullying the chickens in the image of her older sister. “A lot of destruction. But I think we’ll be fine. Should be enough to get us through ’til winter, anyway.”
“And after winter?”
Jack smiled. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
He saw Hazel looking at something, eyebrows raised.
Jack looked around.
Villain was pissing on one of his newly planted potatoes.
“Oh, Villain, for God’s sakes.”
“Shotgun not eating that potato,” Hazel said.
“Yeah, well, you’ll eat what’s put in front of you.”
“Hey. I’m not a child, you know.”
“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”
She smiled, laughed.
And when she did, Jack wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked.
He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for everything that had happened between them, and everything that had happened to them. About everything they’d lost.
But for now, he just smiled.
He just basked in the beautiful moment before them.
There was a time and a place, and now wasn’t it.
They didn’t need any more complications. Not when they’d fought so far to get here.
He heard movement over his shoulder. When he looked around, he saw Emma and Susan.
“How do you think she’s going to settle in?” Hazel asked.
Jack looked at Susan and he felt conflicted. Part of him wanted to cut her loose. He wanted to sever ties.
But then he thought about what Susan had done. How she’d pulled through. How she’d been conflicted but seen the light, right when it mattered.
And he thought about how he had to make a decision, and he had to own it.
“I think she’s going to settle in just fine,” Jack said.
“And if she doesn’t?” Hazel asked.
Jack nodded. “We cross that bridge when we come to it. Now come on. We’ve got more work to do here.”
They walked together with Villain by their side, away from the setting sun.
They walked through the streets, joining Emma and Susan.
And then they walked past Bella and Candice.
Bella looked sad. Her eyes were wide. The look on her face was distraught.
Jack nodded at her. Half-smiled.
She nodded back.
At least she had Candice with her to help her through.
Candice knew what it was like to lose someone close.
“Look at that,” Hazel said.
“What?”
She lifted a hand. Pointed into the distance. “That.”
Jack looked out at the sea ahead. “It’s just… as it’s always been.”
“No,” Hazel said. “It’s… it’s new. It’s fresh. It’s like I’ve never even seen it before. It’s beautiful.”
And Jack saw it, then.
He felt it, right at that moment.
The glimmer of the setting sun on that water.
The red sky in the distance.
The land either side of them hiding all kinds of secrets of its own, all kind of people of its own.
But they were here.
And they had each other.
He felt a tickling sensation on his left hand.
He wasn’t sure what it was at first.
Not until he felt Hazel moving closer.
Her fingers intertwining with his.
His heart raced. He wanted to push back. He wanted to fight. Because this was too much. It was too complicated. It was too…
He took a deep breath, steadied himself.
And then he tightened his grip around Hazel’s hand.
And in the beauty of the setting sun, Jack smiled.
Chapter Fifty
Pete wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking when he finally collapsed to the ground.
He had lost so much weight. He used to pride himself on his physical appearance and his strength. He’d bench press 330 for fun.
But now he could barely push himself back to his feet.
Now, he just wanted to lie on the soggy ground and die.
He looked up. His vision was blurred. He could barely see what was ahead. He didn’t know where he was, just that he was approaching a major city. He’d been travelling alone for a few weeks now—or at least he guessed. He’d started off staying in a police-run compound near to his workplace in Kent, but that soon collapsed. Just like everywhere else, order fell, and before he knew it he and three others were forced to find their own way on the road.
But they were gone. Now, it was just him.
He pressed himself upright as far as he could, but his body just wouldn’t allow it. He was gasping for water. He was so hungry that the thought of food actually made him want to vomit, in a paradoxical way. He knew he was an idiot for getting himself into this state. He’d burned himself out. His hunting had grown sloppy. Supplies were running low. People, they were cynical and unwelcoming. Distrust seemed to be the default state.
And now he was lost and stranded and about to die.
He thought about Hazel. He wished he could’ve gone out there the first day and found her. He hoped she was still okay. And there was Wayne, too. He saw Wayne like a son. They weren’t particularly close, and becoming a surrogate father for someone wasn’t ever going to be easy.
But he’d done what he could for him. He cared about him.
That was the best he could do.
Sometimes, when he we
nt to sleep at night—or whenever he got the chance—his mind taunted him with images of what might’ve happened to them both. How far they’d made it. Whether they’d fallen into the wrong crowd. Whether they’d starved, or been mugged, or even captured and held captive by a psycho.
These thoughts drifted into his nightmares, and it all blended into one horrible tapestry of misery.
And now it looked like he’d be taking these thoughts into death, too.
No!
He dug down. Pressed his fists against the road. Hazel was the love of his life. He regretted what’d happened between him and his old best friend, Jack. He hated how things had gone down.
And he hated the fallout they’d had over him working away. He hated how divided they’d become. How distant they were.
But she was the woman he loved.
And he wasn’t ever going to give up on her.
He wasn’t ever going to stop fighting for her.
He forced himself to his shaky legs.
He stood up, lifted his aching neck and looked at the road ahead.
Just another step looked like a mountain to climb.
But just one step at a time, and he’d be closer.
Just one step at a time, and he’d be—
“Can I help you, sir?”
He heard the voice over his shoulder and he thought he was imagining things at first.
Then he looked around, and he saw the woman standing there, and the people behind her, and he was even more convinced this was fantasy.
“You aren’t real,” he said. “You… you can’t be. You…”
She stepped forward, more into view. “We are real, sir. Don’t you worry. We’re real. And we’re going to look after you. We’re going to take care of you. Now come on.”
Pete was vaguely aware of the woman helping him walk.
He was vaguely aware of being lifted into something.
He didn’t register the light above him.
He didn’t even register the sounds around him.
Mechanical sounds.
Electronic sounds.
The sound of power.
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any reference to real locations is only for atmospheric effect, and in no way truly represents those locations.
Copyright © 2019 by Ryan Casey
Cover design by Damonza
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Published by Higher Bank Books