by Ryan Casey
“I can only tell you the truth,” I said. “This is the best route, all things considered.”
“All things considered including your dead wife.”
I saw red, then.
It was too late to stop myself.
I flew at Martin. This aggression wasn’t something I’d been familiar with before the end times, but hell, a lot of things had changed.
I pushed him to the ground. I vaguely heard shouts, and I felt hands grabbing me and trying to pull me away.
But all I could do was hold on to Martin’s neck.
All I could do was tighten my grip.
“You never say another thing about my wife,” I spat. “Ever.”
His face was going red, and then purple. Some deep urge inside me begged me to keep on going, keep on squeezing.
Then I saw Olivia in my mind, and I let go.
I crouched by the side of Martin then, who was catching his breath. I caught my own breath. Calmed myself down. My cheeks were on fire. My hands were sore. I’d come close. So close.
Martin coughed, and then he stood up, clutching his neck. “This is why we can’t frigging trust you, you absolute nut,” he said.
“I’m… I’m sor—”
“You don’t give a flying shit about me or anyone. And you’re going to get us all killed. Every last one of us.”
The worst thing about what Martin was saying?
I knew he was probably right.
I went to get to my feet. I needed to make things right. I needed to apologise. Hell, maybe I needed to walk away from this group for good, for the safety of them, for the safety of everyone.
But I didn’t get to my feet.
I realised then that Caitlin and Ahmed weren’t saying a thing anymore.
Neither was Martin.
There were five people on the other side of them.
All of them had knives.
“Get back on your knees,” a man with patchy long hair said. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a catch.”
CHAPTER NINE
“Well? Aren’t you gonna at least tell us where you’re from?”
I heard the voices opposite me, and my skin crawled. There were five of them. None of them had guns, but they did have knives, which meant they were ready to fight. And if they had any kind of weapon, it meant that they were a threat in this world. There were no two ways about it.
“Please,” Caitlin said. She took a step towards these people. “We don’t have to—”
“You look like you come from somewhere decent,” the lead guy with the long, patchy hair said. I saw now that his teeth were turning a nasty shade of orange. Could definitely do with a scale and polish sometime soon. “I mean, you stink like shit. But who doesn’t stink like shit in this world?”
I didn’t know what to say. Martin, Caitlin, and Ahmed didn’t exactly seem eager to talk, either. But I knew there was one way in which I was no doubt different to the others.
I didn’t want to make an agreement here.
I didn’t want this to go down “well” for anyone but us.
I had people to think about. And any newcomers just meant more of a threat to those people.
“We can come to some kind of agreement, I’m sure,” Martin said.
Those were the words that made my toes curl even more. Martin would be the one to try and make things right; to try and bargain. Frigging sap.
The man with the patchy hair smiled a little. I could smell his putrid breath right from over here. The rest of his people seemed to be staying silent like that was some kind of agreement they’d come to. “Oh, I know we can come to some kind of agreement. That’s something I’m one-hundred percent sure of. And the agreement starts with you telling us where we can go if we want to find someplace safe.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I said.
It clearly took the man with the patchy hair by surprise. But it also made Martin, Caitlin, and Ahmed turn around too like they weren’t expecting me to stand up to him.
They should’ve known better.
The man with the patchy hair narrowed his eyes and walked slowly towards me. “What did you just say?”
I took a few deep breaths and tried to compose myself as the man walked nearer to me. Part of me was intimidated by him. But mostly, I was intimidated by myself. By what I might have to do if this man pushed me too far.
He stood right in front of me. I could hear his heavy, hoarse breathing. He sounded like he’d just shaken off a bad cold. “Did you just say ‘that’s not going to happen’?”
“You heard me right,” I said, keeping my eyes right on this guy’s grey eyes. I wanted to stare him out, psyche him out completely. “We aren’t going to tell you where we’re from. And if you want to get out of this alive, I suggest you turn around and walk away. Fast.”
The man with the patchy hair’s eyes narrowed a little. He looked staggered that someone had actually stood up to him. Part of him looked bewildered. Another part, amused.
“You… you speak to me like that, after I’ve been so reasonable. And now you expect me and my friends to just back off. Right?”
I clenched my teeth together. In my mind’s eyes, I saw my daughter. My dog. Kesha. “Right.”
The man stood right opposite me for a while longer. Right up in my face. The breeze brushed against the trees, cutting the otherwise total silence.
Then the man stepped away and whistled. “Phew. You do have guts; that’s for sure. I suppose I’m mistaken. I’m guessing I was wrong to stand up to you.”
Martin stepped forward. “We do have a place. And we can make an agreement. It’s…”
Martin clearly hadn’t heard the sarcasm in the man with the patchy hair’s voice.
He hadn’t seen the glint of the knives from his people standing behind.
Fortunately, I had.
I already had my own knife—a Becker BK2 fixed blade—raised.
I lunged at the man with the patchy hair before he could turn on Martin. I didn’t think too much about what I was doing. I just focused on the sole task I had to carry out, right at this moment.
I had to take this man out.
I had to kill him.
He wasn’t coming anywhere near my family. Nobody was.
I pressed the blade against his neck, and I pressed down, hard. Around me, I heard Martin, Caitlin, and Ahmed also fighting off the rest of this man’s people, trying to take them down before they did the job. I’d put them in this impossible position. I’d forced their hand.
I understood that, and I was okay with that.
I pressed down firmer on the neck. The man with the patchy hair held the blade, trying his best to push it back. I could see his face changing colour, and I knew that if I didn’t stab him soon, I’d suffocate him.
I looked into his eyes, and I saw Danny.
I saw everyone who had tried to hurt my family.
I saw…
It was at that moment that I saw something roll out of this man’s top pocket.
It was something I recognised.
Gold coloured. Plastic.
Olivia’s missing earring.
All the sounds around me faded away, then. Everything disappeared into the background, and in the end, all I could do was look at Olivia’s earring as I pressed the blade further into the man’s neck.
The earring rolled off his chest and onto the ground.
The knife slipped through his neck.
“Wait,” I shouted.
I stood up then, the sound returning to the forefront of my consciousness. I picked up the earring in my shaking, bloodied hand. I saw that one of the man’s people was still standing. Ahmed was clutching his leg, which was bleeding out. Martin didn’t look too good either, scratches all over his face. Caitlin had a blade to the neck of the final person, clearly not wanting to give away that she had a gun, just in case there were others watching, figuring out just how many supplies we really had.
“Please,” the man begged. He h
ad spiky blond hair. “We didn’t mean any trouble. Scott, he’s—he was different. We got booted out of our old camp, and he just—he—please.”
I grabbed the sides of this man’s cheeks and slammed him down to the ground. I lifted up the earring, still in disbelief that I was holding it. “This earring. Where did he get it?”
“He—he—I don’t know. I—”
“Where do you come from?” I shouted.
“York! We—we come from just outside York. An industrial estate. Pilchard Industrial. It’s out of the way. Look, just let me go, and I can get you back there. I can help you. Please.”
I thought about killing this man on the spot.
Then I dragged him to his feet and turned towards the trees. “Oh, you are going to help us…”
I didn’t see what happened next.
I just heard a shout.
When I turned around, I saw the man powering towards me, knife in hand.
I didn’t want him to fall. I needed him alive for his help.
But I saw Caitlin lift the gun and fire two shots at the back of his head.
The man fell to his knees.
After the gunshot, silence echoed through the woods once more. Me, Martin, Caitlin, and Ahmed all stood around looking at the five dead bodies surrounding us. The people who’d asked where we were from. The people who’d tried to bargain with us.
The people who were a threat to my family.
“Come on,” Martin said, helping Ahmed, who was bleeding pretty badly from his right leg. Martin snarled in my direction. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else gets killed.”
The three of them walked away, towards the trees.
I just stood there in the silence.
Stood and stared at Olivia’s earring and tried to think what it all meant.
And after so much consideration, I could only arrive at one possibility.
These people knew where Kerry was.
I knew where my wife was.
CHAPTER TEN
“You were negligent, Will. You should’ve taken more care. And for God’s sakes, you should’ve made sure you took the most direct route to the garden centre. Now here you are, back here with no crops, blood on your hands, and Ahmed fighting for his frigging life. All thanks to you.”
I heard Sal grilling me, but I didn’t take in her words. Not completely. I was at a desk opposite her. There was just me, her, Martin, and Caitlin in the room. For some reason, Kesha had been invited in, too. Bouncer was at my feet, panting like he knew something wasn’t right.
Sal was a tough woman. She was pretty much in command of this place. Sure, Kesha liked to insist I was something of a leadership figure, but I didn’t see myself that way. And I don’t think many other people really thought of me that way either, especially not after the events that had taken place in the time since we’d moved here.
I was a loose cannon who didn’t care about anyone but those nearest and dearest to me. That’s how the people saw me. And that’s the reality I had to live with.
I took a few deep breaths of the musty air as Sal droned on about what I’d done wrong, over and over again. I didn’t feel anything about what she was saying, in truth. I knew she was mostly right. I had been negligent.
But in the end, I’d found evidence. Evidence that my wife was still out there.
“Do you have any idea how much this sets us back?”
“And do you have any idea how long I’ve wondered whether my wife might be alive somewhere out there?” I snapped.
The snapping stopped Sal right in her tracks. She didn’t seem like she’d expected me to bite back like that. “Well, respectfully, she’s not your wife anymore. If what I hear is true, anyway. You separated. Right?”
I gritted my teeth and tried to resist the hot tension rising through my body. “And respectfully, that’s none of your business. But if there’s a chance she’s—”
“Apparently, you’ve been obsessing about your wife for as long as we’ve known you. In fact, the whole reason you went after Danny’s people was that you got some weird intel that your wife might be among those people. Right?”
“It’s true,” Martin said. “He is obsessed. Completely obsessed.”
I resisted the urge to go over to Martin and punch him, very hard. Damned snake. “I had good reason to believe my wife had been with Danny’s people at some stage.”
“Danny’s people weren’t the kind who kept people alive for too long. They were busy feeding themselves.”
“Danny told me—”
“He told you your wife was still alive when you’d tortured him. He wanted one last laugh over you before he left this shitty plane of existence. Don’t you see that?”
I heard what Sal was saying. I really did. But I didn’t want to believe it was true.
I reached into my pocket and put the earring on the table in front of us. “This is Olivia’s. I found it on one of the people I…”
“One of the people he butchered,” Martin mumbled.
Again, I did my best to ignore him, as Sal reached for the earring and lifted it up. She studied it closely, squinting right at it.
“I understand it’s a long shot. I understand I must look crazy. But that earring is Olivia’s, and my wife kept hold of that earring. Olivia said so herself. It made her feel like… like whenever Olivia wasn’t with her, they were still together in some way. That’s what she said.”
Sal looked at the earring some more. Then she glanced over the top of it, into my eyes. “It’s pretty nondescript.”
“So you’re saying it’s a coincidence that my daughter has an earring exactly like this missing, and a guy just so happens to have this ring, too?”
“I’m saying women lose earrings all the time. And I’m saying this type of earring isn’t exactly rare.”
She put the earring down on the table. She’d clearly looked at it enough.
“Will, I hate having to have these conversations. But the truth is, our people here are beginning to lose faith in you.”
“Long ago lost faith in—”
“Shut up, Martin,” Sal said.
He did.
She leaned forward further. Put her fingers together. “Look. I understand it’s hard giving up on someone you care about. We’ve all had to do that in some way or another. But what you’re doing right now… it’s dangerous. It’s bordering on obsession. You have to see that.”
I felt my eyes building up with tears and stinging. Not tears of loss or defeat. Just tears of sheer disappointment that I was being shot down all over again. “If you were in my shoes, you’d make the same call.”
“No,” Sal said. “No, I wouldn’t. I’ve been in your shoes. I’ve lost my husband. I spent weeks convincing myself I was seeing signs of him. But in the end, he was gone. And in this world, gone means gone.”
She was silent after that. She leaned back into her chair, which creaked. Outside, I heard birdsong. I wished I could be so present, so carefree.
“I’m sorry, Will,” she said. “But you’re going to have to end this obsession. Or you’re going to have to leave.”
Those final words were a stinger. “Leave?”
“You’re a danger to yourself. Not only that, but you’re a danger to others.”
“I just need time. I need help. Finding—”
“It’s not going to happen, Will.”
The whole room was silent then. I looked at Sal, but there was going to be no winning her over. I looked at Caitlin, at Martin. I swore I saw something of a smile on his face. I’d make him pay for it later.
I looked at Kesha, then. I saw she was torn between two worlds. Stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“Please,” I said. “I don’t like asking you. But I need your help. Please.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to say one thing.
Then she closed it, looked away, and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Will. But I think Sal’s right.”
I’d felt deflated a lot
of times recently. But having Kesha—one of the people close to me—turn her back on me was one of the lowest moments yet.
I scraped my chair back. “Come on, Bouncer. Let’s go.”
“Will,” Sal said.
“I’ve heard enough,” I said, making my way towards the door. I just wanted to get out of this place.
“I’m sorry about your wife,” she said. “I really am. But you will learn to let go and to let other people in, in time. You really will. I promise.”
I stopped. I wanted to believe her.
Then I started to walk back to her.
I pulled the earring off the table and looked deep into her eyes.
“I’m going to find her,” I said.
I saw the disappointment in her gaze for a second as I turned around, Bouncer by my side.
I looked into Kesha’s eyes, then.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She could barely hold eye contact with me for more than a second.
I didn’t say anything back to her.
“Come on, Bouncer.”
My dog and I walked towards the door, out into the darkness.
I’d never felt more alone.
But I’d never felt more driven.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Saying goodbye to my daughter wasn’t something I ever thought I’d have to do again.
It was dark in the corridors of the barracks, and it was dark in Olivia’s room. When I opened the door, though, I saw a glimmer of moonlight shine in through the window behind me, right onto her. The rest of the barracks was totally silent, which didn’t surprise me. People slept well in here. They had to, in order to be fresh and ready for whatever tasks and journeys lay ahead tomorrow. There were always things to do, order to maintain, supplies to gather. Sometimes, the list of things to do seemed endless.
I tasted sickliness in my mouth as I crept closer towards Olivia’s bed. My throat was wobbling. Olivia was completely still. Her eyes were closed. In her hands, the dictionary she’d been reading the other day, learning more words.