by Ryan Casey
Instead, Riley heard nothing.
He looked around at Dean. Dean stared back at him. Everyone in the room either had their fingernails between their teeth or their heads in their hands. The nerves were tangible.
“Have you activated it?” Riley started.
Dean waited a few seconds, his stubbly cheeks flushing, then nodded. “Activated just the one down by…Oh fuck.”
Dean’s words echoed Riley’s thoughts. Riley heard an alarm siren sound from the loudspeaker, but it was too close—too clear—to be the speaker at the Dumping Ground. In fact, it sounded like it was all around them, from different directions.
“Don’t tell me that’s the loudspeakers in the caravan park you just activated,” Rodrigo said.
Dean fumbled around the control system, his cheeks getting redder and redder. “I swear that’s not right. Shunt be doin’ that. No reason fer it.”
“Well it’s doing it,” Pedro said, walking up to the window. “And no creatures are gonna go wandering away from here when they can hear that.”
After a few seconds, Dean managed to turn the loudspeaker off. The second the alarm sound cut out, Riley heard the creaking of the fences and gates getting louder. Groans were coming from the side of the site too, where they’d sneaked out to the Dumping Ground. A distant sound of fingernails scratching the metal in unison wormed its way into Riley’s head.
“What now?” Anna asked. “We…we have to go out there, don’t we? Damage limitation?”
“There’s always the contingency plan,” Riley said. He looked directly at Rodrigo.
Rodrigo’s head dropped. He turned back to Dean. “Try again. Try again, and if it fails, we prepare to defend this place.”
Pedro scoffed and smacked his hand against the desk. “Defend this fucking place? Are you madder than I—”
“You’re welcome to walk,” Rodrigo said, raising his voice. “I’ve always made that perfectly clear to everybody.”
Pedro looked like he was going to say something else. Instead, he closed his mouth and shut up, tilting his head in Dean’s direction. “Go on then. Give it another shot.”
Dean rubbed his hands together, let out a loud exhale, then hovered his hand over the button again. “Wish us luck.”
He brought his finger down on the button.
Riley held his breath as butterflies—savage butterflies—swarmed around his stomach. He listened for the sound of the loudspeaker in the distance, beyond the noise of the creaking gates and fences. He listened. Hoped. This had to work. It had to.
But still, nothing.
Dean stepped back and shook his head. “We tried,” he said. “We tried.”
He didn’t have to say anymore.
Riley stepped to the right of the open window and moved out onto the balcony area. Out here, where the chilly wind bit at his face, the groans and the struggling was louder. The nervous faces behind the glass of the Leisure Centre area were growing even more twitchy, even more anxious.
“So we defend this place?” Riley said, staring out at the gate guards, who raised the guns and pointed them at the fences.
No response from Rodrigo. Just sighs. Sighs of frustration. Exhaustion. Of, “why the fuck did this have to go and happen to us?”
Anna held one hand over her face. The other hand fiddled with the silver heart shaped locket at the end of her necklace now around her neck, still smudged with blood from when Riley had found it.
“Time to pull the plug,” Pedro said. “I know for a fact when it’s too late to start defendin’ a place. And I’ve seen what happens when somebody goes too far.”
Riley gulped as he stared out at the creaking gates. They might fall in minutes. Or maybe hours. But without a distraction from the loudspeaker, this place was as good as breached.
“The contingency plan,” Rodrigo said. His voice sounded shakier. His eyes were watery and bloodshot. “Maybe…maybe you’re right. Maybe we…”
He stopped. At first, Riley thought he’d heard it in his own mind, but Rodrigo stopping talking made him think otherwise. Anna moved her hands away from her face. Pedro frowned. A smile twitched at the corners of Dean’s mouth.
“Is…is that it?” Anna asked.
In the distance, Riley could hear it. A siren. Not from the main caravan park—not close enough—but loud enough to be heard from here, right ahead of them.
The four of them shuffled out of the control room and ran outside.
The gates were still creaking. The groans were still audible. The gate guards, although they’d lowered their guns slightly, didn’t seem totally convinced.
“Is it working?” Anna whispered as Riley and her got close to the gate. “Is it…I can still hear them. Is it—”
“It’s working,” Pedro said. A smile was on his face. A rare smile. Didn’t look right, actually.
Riley wasn’t sure what Pedro meant at first, but then he heard it, ever so gradually.
The groans were lowering in volume.
The fences weren’t creaking, scratching against one another as forcibly.
Riley kept still. Silent. So too did Rodrigo, Pedro, Anna, Dean, the guards.
The faces from the Leisure Centre window looked more questioning. More hopeful.
Riley stared at Anna. He dared not twitch, like a game of musical chairs. But Pedro was right. The groans weren’t as strong. The pushing against the fences had been drowned out by a shuffling.
A shuffling in the direction of the loudspeaker siren, ringing and ringing in the distance.
Riley lifted a thumb, being careful not to so much as crack a joint in the process.
Rodrigo smiled. Pedro smiled. Anna smiled. Everyone smiled.
“It’s working,” Anna mimed, beaming smile on her face.
Riley nodded. It was working. Heathwaite’s Caravan Park would be theirs, at least for a little while longer.
Chapter Seven
Riley looked out at the road that led up to the front gate. It was hard to believe that just an hour earlier, creatures had been pushing themselves up against those fences, swarming around the sides and surrounding Heathwaite’s Caravan Park in an inescapable wall.
But now, the creatures had drifted off towards the Dumping Ground with the sound of the siren from the loudspeaker. At first, it had been just enough to capture the attention of the creatures. But once Dean had figured out a way to speak through this one loudspeaker, the creatures were all staggering and groaning in the direction of his voice in unison.
Now, bar a few lone stragglers on the road outside, which Donald and a few other volunteers were dealing with, the creatures were gone. Heathwaite’s was safe.
“Never doubted this place for a minute,” Rodrigo said, leaning against the balcony with a smile on his bearded face.
“Wish I shared your optimism,” Riley said.
“What happened,” Rodrigo said. “With Dave. It was an anomaly. Nothin’ like that will happen again.”
“You can’t promise that,” Riley said. He watched as a few more volunteers—men, women, whoever wanted to be involved—pulled up some heavy panels towards the main fence. No better time than now to increase the defences.
“This was a wake-up call,” Rodrigo said. “Nothing more. We handled it. We—”
“We handled it, yes. But not all of us made it.” Riley thought back to Aaron’s shocked, confused face as Dave rammed the knife in his neck. “How many more people are we going to lose ‘handling’ these situations?”
Rodrigo didn’t answer Riley this time. He just stared out into the distance as the sun peeked through the fluffy winter clouds.
“Dave…before he…before we dealt with him. He said something. Something about you—you not being who you say you are. Exposing you, or something. I…I have to ask. You have to understand my preference for honesty, with everything that’s happened.”
Rodrigo l
ooked at Riley. His eyes lowered to the ground. He bit his lip. Riley hadn’t seen him like this before, and it was even more stark because he’d looked so triumphant moments ago.
“I…I’m not who I say I am,” Rodrigo said. His voice had transformed from its peculiar American drawl to something decidedly more British. “I—when I say I was in the army. I was. A long, long time ago though. Just a volunteer. But I…” He paused. Hesitated. Looked at Riley again.
“You don’t have to continue. Just it might help. I know.”
Rodrigo took in a deep breath. “I was kicked out. British Army. Booted out for ‘civilian mistreatment’ in Afghan. But it wasn’t true. The men under my command, maybe one or two of them, but not me. But someone’s gotta take the blame.”
“British Army? What about—”
“I went to stay with family in America for quite some time. Boston. Not for long, but just for a bit of a break. My sister, she helped get me back on my feet. I…I was wanted back in Britain for what had happened. Nothing major—just an official removal of my badges. But I couldn’t face my honour being stripped away. I just…I wasn’t ready for it yet. Anyway, one thing led to another and I ended up back home in the end after a good couple years away. Took a break here in Heathwaite’s beforehand, where y’know, I could just chill and enjoy the scenery. And yeah. Then all this happened.”
Riley was stunned to silence by Rodrigo’s words.
“Rodrigo, I—”
“It’s Roger. It really is just Roger.”
Riley’s gut had been right, then. Rodrigo wasn’t his real name. But his reasons behind the name change—a comical Americanising of himself, somewhat—they hadn’t been what he was expecting. He was just another human being with demons in his closet.
“Don’t tell them. Please.” Rodrigo’s eyes were puppy-dog-esque now. Begging. “They—they need someone. Stability. I can give that to them. I do give that to them. And I…I need it, too. I need to know I can serve the best interests of people again. Look out for them. Keep them together. I…I suppose I need it as much as everyone else.”
Riley smiled and nodded. “I’ve no business telling anybody anything. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve proven your place as a leader. That’s worth a shitload more than any badge or rank.”
Rodrigo tried something that resembled a smile. “You’re a decent man, Riley. Wasn’t sure at first, but you’re…you’ve a clearer head than I have. What do you think our next step should be?”
Riley looked back at Heathwaite’s Caravan Park. People were beginning to come back out of their caravans. Voices that were previously so panicked were more gossipy and relieved now.
“20th December,” Riley said. “Five days til Christmas.”
“God help me,” Pedro said. “Could never stand that fake festival. Now I’m gonna have to put on a smile for a whole day. Give me a whisky and some quality television over all that fakery any day.”
Riley laughed. “I’d drink to that, if I had one.”
Rodrigo smacked Riley on the back. “Maybe you’ve earned one, kid. Maybe you’ve earned one.”
“Count me in on that.”
Riley looked around. It was Anna. She was smiling. Still bruised around her eye and red around her neck from the confrontation with Dave, but smiling nonetheless.
“Well we’ve whisky, beer, smokes—whatever. It’s your call,” Rodrigo said.
“It’s fine,” Anna said, moving closer to the pair of them. “Better save the supplies for Christmas Day. Don’t want to end up being hung-over for it. And I’ve not been lashed for so long that I think that’s a real possibility. I was drunk after a sip of the last beer I had.”
Rodrigo chuckled. The sound of the gates opening caught his attention. “I’d best go check on the volunteers. See how they got on with that ol’ Dumping Ground extension.”
“As long as it keeps a boundary between the creatures and us, then I’d say they’ve got on pretty well.”
Rodrigo hopped down the concrete steps at the front of the main centre and jogged over to the volunteers. They’d been rounding the creatures up like sheep, extending the boundaries of the Dumping Ground. It was necessary, considering how many creatures there were. But they had the whole woods to keep themselves occupied. If they starved in there, then boo-hoo for them.
“Do you think we’re safe? Really?” Anna asked. She pushed herself closer to Riley as they leaned on the railings looking out at the descending late afternoon sun.
Riley let the warmth of Anna fill his body. She twiddled with her heart-shaped locket. “I don’t think we’re ever safe. But we’re safer right now than we were an hour ago. And that’s how we have to work our progress now.”
“Not just the creatures,” Anna said, staring dreamily into the distance. “Mike. He…We don’t know what he wants. What he’s planning. And if Dave was working on the inside for him, then—”
“We deal with things as they come,” Riley said. “This place is nice. It’d be nice to spend Christmas here—maybe essential, with the warmth and food and shelter. And I think we will. But we have to be prepared. Always prepared.”
Anna looked at Riley, breaking free of her trance, and smiled at him. Her brown eyes made him feel all gooey inside. He really was getting soppy, and so was she, evidently.
“What?” Riley asked, blushing.
Anna laughed. “Just…you know. Company is nice too. I’d say company’s the most important thing of all.”
More gooey feeling inside. More soppiness. Even a warmth between his legs. Shit—this wasn’t on the cards. Play it cool, Riley. Play it cool. “Company is—”
“Ho-ly shit,” somebody shouted.
Riley turned around, jolted out of his moment with Anna. Anna looked around too. The accent was that weird American-English hybrid. Rodrigo. He sounded triumphant. Happy about something.
The gates, which had opened to let the people clearing up outside back in, were closing. Everyone seemed intact, wandering through with baseball bats, long fragments of metal and occasionally, guns. Smiles on faces. Too smiley.
“What is it?” Riley asked, jogging down the steps and over towards Rodrigo. Rodrigo was smiling from cheek to cheek. Colour had invaded his greying face.
“Only went and found a pair of Mike’s stragglers. Tried to fire a shot at ol’ Paddy they did, only they missed and got themselves caught. Ain’t that right?”
Riley saw who Rodrigo was talking to now. Behind him, two people were being pushed into the Heathwaite’s, guns pointing into their backs, cuffs wrapped around their wrists.
Riley was completely silent. He experienced joy, despair, fear and confusion—mostly confusion—all within the space of a solitary second. The people he was staring at, covered in blood and filth…they weren’t alive. They were gone. They couldn’t be here.
They stared back at him too, frozen to the spot. Their eyes were wide. He could see them trying to talk to him, but black bandages were tied around their mouths, presumably to stop them screaming and attracting any creatures—or worse.
“Get them to a free caravan,” Rodrigo said, patting one of his baseball bat wielding volunteers on the back. “Work out what we wanna do with ‘em.”
The woman and the girl were pushed past Riley and Anna, tumbling to the ground and being yanked back up again, but all the time, their wide eyes staring—staring at Riley, staring at Anna.
Riley looked at Anna. Anna looked back at him. The smile was gone from her face. Her cheeks were pale. So he hadn’t been seeing things. He wasn’t just imagining the whole fucking situation. They’d been shooting at Rodrigo’s men. They were out there, all along.
Claudia and Chloë were dragged further and further towards the caravans down the main stretch of Heathwaite’s.
Claudia and Chloë were alive.
But they were in trouble.
> Serious fucking trouble.
EPISODE TEN
(FOURTH EPISODE OF SEASON TWO)
Prologue
When the water filled the boat, the one thing that Claudia kept a hold of—kept aware of—was her daughter’s hand.
She clenched her eyes shut as the water smacked against her face. She tried to hold her breath, but the force of the water smacking into the narrowboat was just too strong. She held Chloë’s hand to her chest. Held her despite the force of nature between them, trying to tear them apart.
She held and held and held. Even when everything was at its darkest. Even when she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, and when the complete darkness of the water surrounded her, she gripped Chloë’s hand. Her daughter wasn’t going anywhere. Not her other little girl. She’d already lost Elizabeth. She wasn’t losing Chloë. Not after all that girl had been through. Not after all they’d both been through, together.
Her hand was still gripping hold of Chloë’s tightly when she opened her eyes and realised the darkness wasn’t surrounding her anymore.
Claudia lifted herself up. She was damp to the bone, shivering, teeth rattling. It was dark. Was she still under water? Was this the end?
But no. As she lifted herself further upright, she felt a blockage in her throat. Inadvertently, she collapsed forward and spewed out what seemed like a whole bottle’s worth of salty, stinging water, and then some more. She coughed it all up then looked around, squinting into the darkness. She could hear the sea behind her. She could smell the salty air blowing in the freezing cold breeze.
And in her hand, she could still feel Chloë’s.
Her heart jolted. Chloë.
She jumped over to her right, where her daughter’s body was.
“Chloë,” Claudia said, pressing on her chest. She’d taken a medical training course back when she worked in the local council, but this—saving an actual life—it was different.
Even more different when it happened to be your daughter’s life you were saving.