by Ryan Casey
The body of the child he’d killed.
The log cabin was completely silent. Even the wind outside wasn’t as strong as it had been, the storm fading as night progressed. But all around him, Riley saw reminders of the horrors that had just unfolded.
He saw Spud standing there, that torn look in his eyes.
He saw Kesha in his arms, the machete to her neck.
And then he saw him throwing himself at Spud. Snatching the machete from his hand. Ploughing it down into his skull.
Ending his life.
“Riley?”
Jordanna’s voice dragged Riley out of recalling the horrors. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d recalled them already. Wasn’t even sure how long he’d stood here, staring at the blood as it dripped down the wooden floorboards from Spud’s smashed head.
“Chloë,” Jordanna said. “It’s all gone quiet up there. We need to… we need to know she’s okay.”
The realisation dawned on Riley heavily, as his awareness of his surroundings, his situation, all arrived once more. Chloë. She’d been upstairs, fighting with someone. He’d heard banging. He’d heard shouts and he’d heard cries. And he’d heard what Spud said, too. What he said about the man who made him do these things.
Whatever was upstairs couldn’t be good news. The silence couldn’t be good news.
The last thing he remembered hearing? A smash somewhere upstairs.
Since then, total silence.
“We have to know she’s okay,” Jordanna said, trying to walk ahead of Riley. “We have to know she’s—”
“You stay down here with Kesha,” Riley said.
“If she’s up there, I want to be there for her. She’ll want me there for—”
“Stay down here with Kesha. Please.”
Jordanna didn’t argue much more. Riley could see her dilemma. She cared about Chloë. Ever since they’d met, they’d had a bond. And Jordanna had pretty much taken on the responsibilities of Claudia, Chloë’s mother. She’d struggled—struggled to find a balance between mothering the girl, being her friend, being her mentor. The more time passed, the more Riley realised Chloë wasn’t the kind of girl who could be mentored after all.
But Jordanna had done a damned good job. She’d done the best job she could.
Riley couldn’t risk Jordanna seeing Chloë in any more pain.
He had to be the one to climb those stairs and find her, as much as it pained him to.
He touched Jordanna’s shoulder, still in a haze after what’d happened with Spud. Outside, the wind picked up again, like normal procedure had resumed.
And then he tightened his grip around the machete, stepped over Spud’s dead body and started his ascent up the stairs.
Every step was long, drawn out, torturous. He heard the floorboards creaking under his feet. Upstairs, he swore he heard gasping. Grunting. He had no idea what he was going to come across. He had no idea of what to expect.
Just that it couldn’t be good news.
Nobody could ever prepare for good news in this world anymore. Doing so was a foolish idea.
He reached the middle of the stairs. Looked back down at Jordanna holding Kesha in her arms. She was a natural. She’d been so unfortunate to lose her kid—their kid. But she’d been lucky as hell to still be alive to tell the tale again today.
Now, she had a second chance. They all had a second chance.
Riley just desperately wanted Chloë to be a part of that second chance.
He knew that if she weren’t, it would never be the same again.
He kept on climbing the steps. Soon, he could see the hallway above. There was nobody in there. Three doors and that was it.
But there was something shining in the moonlight that peeked through the window at the end of the corridor.
There was something that caught his eye very clearly.
Blood.
A sour taste filled his mouth. He tried not to stop or stall. He didn’t want to worry Jordanna too much.
He just had to keep on going. He had to find Chloë.
And, worst case scenario, he had to do what he had to do.
Just the way he’d always done.
An even sicklier taste filled his mouth as he reached the top step and smelled the sharp tang of death. What if this was his fault? What if, because he’d trusted someone stupidly, he’d led Chloë to her death? What if he hadn’t followed Spud? This could’ve been prevented. Sure, they’d still probably be out there now, hiding in the trees, dodging as many creatures as they could. And sure, they might’ve died out there anyway.
But not like this.
It wouldn’t have been on him.
All because he’d taken that leap of faith and trusted after all.
He started to regret ever setting eyes on this place. Started to regret ever even leaving his cabin over by Rivington.
And then he saw something outside the third door, the one closest to the window.
There was something lying there on the carpet. As Riley stepped closer, he couldn’t work out what it was. Not at first.
Then it clicked.
It was a shoe.
A man’s shoe.
He moved towards it. Looked into the first door, saw a bathtub filled with murky water and a body. He kept on going, keeping aware of his surroundings, the feeling that eyes were burning into him at all times.
He looked into the next room, saw nothing of note.
And then he reached the third room.
Inside there, someone was standing.
It took Riley a few seconds for it to click. For him to realise. For him to totally understand.
But then it clicked.
It clicked, hard.
“Chloë?”
Chloë was standing in the middle of this room. There was something in her arms. A bundle. Like a child.
Riley walked into the room. The smell hit him right away—a harsh coppery smell. The smell of blood. Fresh blood.
And then Riley saw the trail of blood leading from the corridor into this room. He saw it leading through, across the floorboards.
He saw it stop at Chloë’s position.
“Chloë, are you…”
She looked up. Although Riley’s eyes hadn’t totally adjusted to the light, he could see she was crying.
“What happened here?” he asked.
He stalled when he saw the smashed window; when he saw the bundle in Chloë’s arms. The child.
The child was dead. It looked like it’d been dead a long time.
But judging by the blood pooling out of its little belly, judging by the blood rolling down Chloë’s hands, falling to the floor, she’d been the one to end its second life.
On the ground, Riley saw teeth. Little milk teeth that he didn’t want to imagine how they’d got there. He could tell from the look on Chloë’s face that she knew. Not only did she know, but she was responsible.
“It’s okay now,” Riley said, reaching out for Chloë. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. “I’m here now. We’ve got you. We can… we can get out of this place.”
“He got away,” Chloë said.
Riley narrowed his eyes. “Who got away?”
She looked over at the window. More of the toddler’s blood covered her already blood-soaked shirt. “Kane. He… The kid tried to bite me but it… its teeth weren’t strong enough. And then it all happened so fast and he just jumped.”
Riley and Chloë walked over to the smashed window. They stood there and looked outside. Felt the strong wind against their faces. The rain splashed against them. In the distance, far away in the darkness of the trees, Riley swore he heard groans.
“Do we go after him?” Chloë asked.
Riley swallowed a lump in his throat. This “Kane” had attacked his family. He’d tried to kill everyone he cared about. He wanted to. He wanted to so much. “No,” he said.
He walked towards the door of the room. Walked into the corridor, Chloë by his side, still holding on t
o the child.
“Wait,” she said.
She stopped by the bathroom. Looked inside at the murky bathtub.
“What’s up?”
“There’s just… just something I have to do.”
Riley watched Chloë walk into that bathroom. He watched her place the bleeding child carefully back into its dead mother’s arms.
He watched as the bathtub filled with more blood.
And then, he watched as Chloë pulled aside the dirty shower curtain, and walked away.
The pair of them descended the stairs hand in hand. Jordanna rushed over to Chloë. Hugged her. Chloë held on to Kesha, squeezed her tightly. And despite all this happiness, all Riley could do was see Spud’s fallen body right in front of him.
All he could see was the fear in that boy’s eyes.
Spud’s fear of what might happen if he didn’t please this “Kane”.
Spud’s fear, as Riley pulled the machete from his grip and ended his life.
“What next?” Jordanna asked.
Riley looked at the pair of them. Then at Kesha.
“We keep moving to the place Chloë told us about. Night or day, we’re not safe here anymore.”
He walked over to the front door. Opened it up, as the storm blasted its way inside.
“And Spud?” Chloë asked.
Riley gritted his teeth. He took a deep breath, looked out into the darkness, Spud’s machete in his hand.
“We leave him,” he said.
Then, he stepped out into the night, the last people on earth he cared about right behind him.
Alive.
CHAPTER SIX
Kane lay on his back outside the cabin and felt the rain power down onto his face.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d lay there now. It was still dark, but that darkness was gradually making way to a blue-ish sky. He was cold. So icy cold. But that coldness was made even worse when he’d looked inside the cabin and found what he’d found in there.
Spud.
Spud lying there, his head cracked in two.
Spud, his companion, his protégé, murdered.
And now Kane was all alone again.
He listened to the sound of the wind brushing the tree branches against one another. As he lay there, he imagined zombies arriving by his side. Crouching down and tearing his limbs away, one by one. And would it bother him, really? Would he mind? After all, what use was his life anymore? What was his purpose if he didn’t have Spud by his side?
He tasted vomit. He rolled over and spat it out. He’d thrown up a lot in this last… well, this last however long it’d been. He was sick for so many reasons. Not just because he’d lost Spud. Not just because he was alone. Not even because he hadn’t been the one to kill Spud—after all, if anyone was entitled to decide whether Spud lived or died, it was surely him.
But no. None of that was the hardest thing of all.
The hardest thing of all was his memory of being inside that room upstairs. The room he lay below now, staring up at.
He’d thrown the child at the girl. He’d forced it towards her neck.
But then something had… happened.
He’d seen the potential in this girl as the kid’s brittle little teeth struggled to grip her neck. He saw the way she’d fought him, and the spirit she’d shown even though she only had one darned arm.
She’d bit his lip. He could still taste that blood on him now.
And something told Kane that she was the kind of girl he wanted by his side.
Something made Kane drag the kid away from her body and stamp on its wretched head.
Stamp on it until it was undead no more.
And before the girl could even process a thing, he’d thrown himself out of the window.
He’d landed well. And he’d run around to the front of the house so he could deal with Riley and Jordanna and make Chloë his own. But that’s where he found Spud. Machete in his head. Skull cracked in two.
He’d wanted to go in there right then. He’d wanted to kill them all, paint the walls with their blood.
But instead, he’d just walked around the back of the cabin again.
He’d lay down and stared up at the stormy sky as the pain of losing Spud—but also the pain of knowing he’d saved that little one-armed bitch—taunted him.
He’d made errors. He’d made mistakes. Maybe he was too forward with Spud. Maybe he was too—
You shouldn’t have taken the little prick under your wing at all.
Kane squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to hear the voices now. He didn’t want to know what they had to say; what his stepdad had to say. Because he’d saved that girl’s life. Maybe he could be a better person. Maybe he didn’t have to kill. Maybe he didn’t have to—
YOU ENJOY KILLING.
“No,” Kane muttered.
Why give up something you love so much, idiot?
Kane pressed his hands around his ears. “No!”
You’re gonna be a killer your whole life. A lying, cheating, cowardly little killer.
He felt his stepdad’s hands wrapping around his neck.
Felt them tightening like they did so many times.
YOU’RE GONNA MAKE THOSE CUNTS PAY.
“Arghhh!”
Kane cried out. His body shot forward and he cried out. And at that moment, he felt every inch of stress that’d filled his body pouring from his system. He felt it shooting out of his body in a surge. He felt the pain of trusting Spud; the pain of saving that girl.
But most of all, he felt the pain of losing Spud.
And he felt the pain of having not killed in so long.
He saw Spud’s dead body over and over in his head. It had such clarity to it, as if he’d witnessed the death first-hand. That was the beauty of Kane’s murders—he could replay them again whenever he wanted.
But the clarity increased. And as the clarity increased, so too did Kane’s certainty. His certainty of what he had to do and where he had to go from here.
He stood. Walked around to the front of the cabin. And then he walked inside and lifted Spud’s body from the floor. Blood and fragments of skull fell as Kane walked back out of the cabin, over to a muddy ditch—the muddy ditch he’d planned on burying his victims when he’d finally killed them.
“I’m sorry, Spud,” he said. “I’m truly sorry.”
He threw Spud’s body into the ditch.
He looked down at Spud’s body, completely still. He felt the voices in his head getting stronger; the urge getting heavier.
YOU ENJOY KILLING.
WHY GIVE UP KILLING?
YOU ARE A KILLER.
“Make them pay,” Kane mumbled.
He walked away from Spud’s grave.
Then he looked at the footmarks that’d been squelched into the dirt.
The footmarks that, actually, he didn’t need to follow at all.
Because he’d listened to Riley and Jordanna and Chloë.
He’d heard exactly where the scrappy little bitch was leading them.
“And that’s where I’m going,” he whispered to himself. “That’s where I’m going.”
He took a deep breath and walked away from Spud’s grave.
Walked in the direction of the footprints.
He was getting his revenge.
He was going to make it long. Drawn out. Agonising.
It was going to be his sweetest, most torturous quadruple of kills in his entire life.
If they didn’t understand who they’d messed with, the damage they’d done, they would. Oh, they most certainly would.
“I’ll show you how it’s done, Spud,” Kane said. “I’ll show you exactly how it’s done.”
He walked and he fantasised about ripping Riley’s heart from his chest.
He smiled.
Soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Even when the sun rose, Riley still felt the darkness of the night before hanging over him.
All around, Riley saw trees, wh
ich were gradually thickening the closer they got to the safe place that Chloë was leading them towards. The trees made Riley feel much more secure than the outside world. Like a warm blanket. Because being inside the trees meant they were less likely to bump into other people and less likely to come head to head with another group.
After what happened with Spud and Chloë’s run in with Kane, Riley was certain he wouldn’t be able to trust ever again.
Not even for Kesha’s sake.
“You okay?”
Riley turned. He saw Jordanna walking beside him.
He nodded. “Bit tired.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, obviously I’m not totally okay. Not after what—”
“You need to stop thinking about it. You need to just… let it go.”
A bitter taste filled Riley’s mouth. “Let it go?”
“You beat yourself up too much for what happened. But after all, you… you only did what you thought was right. To save Kesha.”
“I killed a child,” Riley said.
Saying the words made him feel completely cold. He didn’t recognise himself saying those words. It didn’t sound like something he’d ever imagined saying, not at all.
But here he was, owning up to the greatest crime of all.
“I took that machete and I killed him because I thought it’d be better if he was dead than if he was alive. Just like I killed the people who approached our cabin. It’s the same. Completely the same. And I’m not sure… I’m not sure I can live with it anymore.”
Riley stopped, then. The exhaustion of both the walk and last night’s events were getting beyond the realms of his control.
Jordanna put a hand on his shoulder. Up ahead, Chloë slowed down, holding on to Kesha.
“You know, I nearly gave up. When you left me behind—”
“Do we have to go through this again?”
“Yes,” Jordanna snapped. And Riley didn’t even think to argue. “Yes we do. When you and Ted left me behind on that first day, I was lost. Completely lost. Everyone I went to who I cared about was already gone. Every place I used to feel safe was gone. I was alone. Completely alone. And I nearly threw the towel in. I really did.”
“You never struck me as a quitter.”
“And I’m not. And neither are you. Neither is Chloë. None of us are quitters because we’re still here today. And sure, we’ve done bad things. We’ve done fucking awful things. Things we can’t approve of. The things at the cabin. And then what we did burning down that multi-storey car park. And then… Spud. Those are things we’re going to spend the rest of our lives with, no matter what.