Strangeways

by Matthew Samm

  Knowing roughly the direction of the compound housed in the island’s centre, she began moving, keeping to the undergrowth to minimize being seen. Occasionally, she’d cross a trail, but there was always silence and she’d make it back to the shrubbery on the opposite side without incident.

  Her first problem came when the forest ran out. It wasn’t the same village she’d seen during her descent from the hovercraft. This was different, slightly larger with more robust buildings and completely unmutilated by rabid hounds.

  The compound couldn’t be far away, but to get to it, she’d have to skirt the village or dash through. Going through the centre would be far quicker, but she’d probably be seen, and if she was recognized, or if anyone challenged her, her mission would be over and her brother as good as dead. Then again, going around would take time and she could become disoriented by the direction change and miss the compound.

  It was a decision Alix never needed to make.

  She heard a snap of branches and turned to stare into the faces of three men. They carried the carcass of a freshly killed deer, blood still staining red the black dirt between the shrubs.

  For a moment, no one moved, as if neither could quite believe what they were seeing. Finally, the three men broke the standoff, dropping the deer and advancing on Alix. She reacted in a heartbeat, leaping out of their reach, but exiting the forest as she did so. She was now in the open.

  The three men emerged as well and began to spread out, trying to intimidate her. One held a crude spear, the jagged sheet metal used for a spearhead was rusting but smeared with ichor from the deer. It was the killing weapon. The man wielding it planned on adding another kill to his tally for the day.

  The other two men undid their belts and unthreaded them from their pant loops. Each of them, almost in exact time with each other, began winding them around their fists. That done, their hands dropped back to their sides, a length of the belt dangling free and the lethally heavy buckle weighting the end.

  She recognized the leader; the man with the spear. His face was more lined than it was last time they’d met, and he was now sporting a filthy beard, but it was him. She’d always remember him. He was her best work.

  Leyton Bannon. Armed robber. She’d faced him in the cells after he was caught and convicted. The sentencing mandated at least 7-10 bouts in the cells. His robberies were so violent, he was given the full 15. He won his first two bouts and people were getting frustrated. She’d faced him in the third and made sure to set an example of him. She hadn’t wanted to. Her father made her. “He thinks he’s above the law, Alix,” her father had said. “He doesn’t care about who he’s hurt.”

  She remembered the pause in her father’s words. It was right before she went to the cells.

  “Make him care!”

  She did. She gave him the finest beating she’d ever given anyone. By the end, she could see his eyes begging for mercy and she genuinely thought she might have changed him.

  It was the only bout of his she was given, but each of the Wardens who followed her beat him as well. She’d broken him for the rest of his sentence and the victims he’d hurt felt like he was broken as well.

  When his debt to society was paid, Bannon went back to the city and took to drink. It was his undoing. One night, after an evening booze, he staggered into the streets and spotted a car with the door open and the engine running. He got in and took off, making it less than half a mile before wrapping the stolen vehicle around a maintenance crane. He was sat in the car giggling when the police picked him up.

  He’d already served his bouts in the cells. The city gave up on him and sent him to Strangeways. And here he was.

  Staring into his desperate eyes, Alix could see now that he wasn’t broken. In fact, he looked like he’d found his place in this world. It was on a cursed island, covered in filth, and dragging a carcass back to a filthy village.

  Bannon had forgotten where he was at this moment. His eyes had also flashed back to their first meeting and he wanted payback for the beating he took and the effect it had taken on his life.

  “Venner!” he growled, his thick Irish accent puffing through strands of scraggly beard.

  “Morning, Leyton,” she replied, her words coming out as mockery and infuriating Bannon even more.

  “I never thought I’d get this chance,” he growled again, advancing on her with his spear outstretched.

  Alix backtracked more, keeping all three men in front of her.

  When Bannon reached her, he was on his own, the spear jabbing towards her face, searching for flesh in which to hook and lifeblood to spill.

  Alix bobbed under the jagged steel and twisted out of the way as the cruel metal thrust towards her heart. At this moment, she saw things almost before they happened, her highly trained muscle memory knowing what always came next and ending up one step ahead.

  With two misses, Alix noticed the seed of doubt plant in Bannon’s mind. His third strike containing half the certainty of the first. He had shifted to the defensive and Alix saw her chance.

  She ducked away from the third strike, but caught it in her left hand, using Bannon’s momentum to drag him forwards. She greeted him with a straight right that spread his facial features. Alix didn’t need to see what happened next. She already knew.

  All the fight drained out of him. His hands released the spear and grasped at his ruined face, trying to soak up some of the pain.

  Alix had already gained control of his spear and spun around his crumbling body. She heard his knees hit the floor and what sounded like whimpers. Continuing her spin, she brought the spear butt around in a sweeping arc, guiding it onto the jaw of the second man. He crumpled as well, falling in front of the third man who staggered over his body, unbalancing himself and bringing his head forwards.

  Alix had already seen this happen. As the final man’s head dipped, she twisted the spear upwards, the wood shaft uppercutting him. He was unconscious before he hit the ground, his unfeeling body splayed on top of the second man.

  Alix paused to admire her handiwork and a smile spread across her face. This had been her first real test; a quick bout without rules in the real world. When her father had warned her about the island, she’d been secretly worried. He’d made it sound as if she had no idea what she was walking into. This engagement told her something. It said she could handle herself in the real world.

  Alix glanced around. The fight had taken them to the middle of another clearing surrounded by the makeshift houses. The doorways were now filled with people, some of them elderly, but most of them women; the wives and girlfriends. Some of them were probably connected to the three men lying on the floor under her boot.

  She took a step back and flung the spear to the side. She didn’t want to seem threatening, although that was unlikely considering what they’d just witnessed.

  None of the women moved, but in the silence, Alix distinctly heard a baby’s cry of desperation. The infant wanted comfort and probably food. The noise cut straight through Alix and made her consider something she never had before. There were children on Strangeways! Children who had never committed a crime; who had never sinned in any way. Why were there children on Strangeways?

  An angry outburst from just inside the forest ruined Alix’s train of thought. More men were coming through the trees, calling for those she’d just defeated.

  Alix froze. Should she fight? The first one had gone very well, but she couldn’t battle an entire island. Instinctively, she took up a defensive stance, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting for the next batch of victims to make themselves known.

  They never saw Alix. One of the women from the hut doorway came rushing out towards her, terror etched onto her face.

  Alix dropped her guard, mesmerized by the scene playing out. The woman put her finger to her lips, begging her to remain silent, before wrapping her arms around Alix and guiding her back towards her house.

  As she entered the building, Alix glanced
backwards and saw the three men struggling to their feet as more kinsmen tramped out of the trees and into the clearing.

  It would only take moments for Alix to realize why the women had ushered her to safety.

  6

  After Alix was pulled into the building, she swung herself behind the door and dropped to the floor, peering over an uneven sill through the murky opening between the stones. She could see the three men get to their feet just as the second entourage entered the clearing.

  Their presence was immediately felt. The onlookers, mainly women, scattered back inside their houses and closed the doors, the succession of slams echoing around the open space.

  Still peering between the stones, Alix saw the three men try and disperse as well. Whoever the newcomers were, they inspired fear in all who saw them. There were four in total, and Alix now saw that one of them was a woman. She and one of the other men rounded up the three, Alix had beaten, like sheepdogs, gathering them into the centre of the clearing where the other two stood.

  One of them was young, a lad of about Alix’s age. He hung back from the action and looked awkward about being there. His body language suggested he was forced to join in with whatever was about to happen. His head was clean shaven, but it looked artificial as if the boy hadn’t embraced the look. He didn’t want it. He looked like he’d been training, but again, there was an air of failure emanating from him.

  Alix heard muttering behind her, as the small crowd of women whispered to each other. They were trying to identify who was outside. Alix distinctly heard the words ‘Jack’ and ‘Hellcat’, before someone shushed them. Squinting through the stone, Alix could see the ‘Jack’. It was him, the man she was hunting. There he was. Mad Jack himself; the terror made flesh.

  She recognized the shaved head turning into the bull neck and shoulders. He was not overly tall, but he was immense. It would take a stable load of horses to knock him down.

  With her Warden’s eye, Alix began to evaluate his weaknesses. There were few she could see. It wasn’t just his imposing disposition; he was clearly incredibly strong. She would have to avoid any clinch with him. It reassured her that she’d been right before; she would have to fight like a guerrilla, avoiding his attacks, hitting him with counters and waiting for his legs to liquefy. With that much muscle mass, he’d tire easily. At least that was the hope.

  Alix assumed ‘Hellcat’ referred to the woman. Her fingernails were extended past her fingertips and attached to each, almost welded on, were lashings of steel, giving her the grip of a big cat’s claws.

  Through the stones, Alix saw ‘Hellcat’ and the other henchman take a step backwards and Mad Jack step forward. He ushered the young lad forwards as well and gripped him around the shoulders, his biceps visibly flexing through the skin-tight black undershirt he wore.

  The boy only reluctantly stepped forward and the beefy arm around his shoulders held him there. He was leaning back, trying to reclaim his position behind the action.

  Mad Jack was speaking about something, his free hand gesticulating violently. He was furious with them about something.

  To Alix’s surprise, Bannon started to retaliate, and Alix shook her head. Bannon never knew when to leave his mouth shut. It had always gotten him into trouble and this time, it might have dragged him over the cliff edge.

  The gesticulating stopped and Mad Jack’s piercing eyes fixed Bannon with a deathly stare. Bannon recognized it and finally stopped, but it was too late. Alix saw Mad Jack mouth one word. Hellcat.

  The woman, Hellcat, strode forwards, stalking her prey, her eyes unblinking and a seductive smile playing on her lips. There was a grace and fluidity about her movements, they were beautiful to watch. Bannon didn’t move, almost transfixed by the creature hypnotizing him with lethal beauty and poise. Hellcat pranced behind him, dragging her steel nails gently across shoulders. Alix felt the sensation as if it was happening to her.

  Bannon’s companions stepped backwards subtly as Hellcat came past, isolating Bannon on his own. His head flowed from his left shoulder, over to his right as Hellcat walked behind him. As he turned, Alix saw fear in his eyes and his chest danced with rapid, shallow breathing. He was the mouse in the cat’s jaws. She was playing with her food.

  As she moved back around in front of him, there was sudden movement from her right claw. Bannon jerked minutely and fell to his knees, finally pitching forward to lie in the dirt. Blood flowed freely from his throat.

  Hellcat stepped back to the flanks and licked her steel nails, the kill confirmed, the kitten cleaning its claws.

  Mad Jack had released the young lad and allowed him to return to the rear, but he began speaking furiously to the remaining two men in Bannon’s retinue.

  Alix knew there would be no more blood spilled right now. Bannon was an example. Whatever the men had done to infuriate Mad Jack, they would not repeat it. It didn’t even matter what the infringement was, Alix simply knew that even where there are no laws, a system of rules evolves. On Strangeways, Mad Jack was the law. If you crossed him, failed in a task, insulted him or wronged him in any way, you would be forced to pay, probably with your life.

  Alix tried to define him in her mind. What was he? A type of cop? A judge? A king? These all seemed too grand to describe what he was, which was criminal scum who’d recently advanced into kidnapping. In the end, she settled on ‘gangster’. That’s what he was. He didn’t flout the law; there was no law here, but he did rule with an iron fist. The island was a mix of new tribes. When a new criminal lands, they better align themselves to one of them, or they’d find themselves six feet under in short order.

  Mad Jack was simply the biggest dog in the kennel. He allowed others to conduct their own affairs, but he was the overlord. He took what he wanted and made sure people owed him. Alix had never heard of anyone challenging him, but she guessed it must have happened. You don’t stay at the top of the tree for as long as Mad Jack without a few people trying to take your legs out. The fact he still ruled testified to his incredible power and durability. The man was a mountain.

  Out in the clearing, Alix noticed Mad Jack grab the young lad again. He turned the boy until he was facing him, both colossal hands clamped on the lad’s shoulders, forcing him to stare into Mad Jack’s soulless, unnerving eyes. They had the same effect as Medusa. The boy went to stone, his eyes affixed to Mad Jack’s as words spilled from Jack’s mouth. Once he’d finished, the boy nodded vaguely. He understood what had been said to him, but there was no conviction in his nod. He still wanted nothing to do with what was going on.

  Then the boy began walking towards the house. He took a few steps and paused. He looked straight ahead, almost staring through the hole in which Alix knelt. She recoiled. Had he looked at her? Did he know someone was inside who shouldn’t be?

  Then his eyes fell to the floor. He shook his head somberly, looking like he was going to burst into tears.

  Mad Jack was on him in a heartbeat, storming to his side, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders again and shaking him as he balled more words.

  Alix noticed Mad Jack looked like her own father, the contempt with which he spoke to Isaac mimicked perfectly the contempt she saw in Mad Jack’s eyes. Alix began to feel a misunderstood shame. She felt like she’d done something wrong as well and wanted to immediately correct her mistake, even though she hadn’t made one. Conveying disappointment really was an excellent tactic in urging improvement.

  Mad Jack screamed a question into the boy’s face. Alix couldn’t hear what it was, but the boy didn’t answer. Mad Jack balled the question again. This time, the lad nodded and immediately backed towards the house. He turned and began to walk, and Mad Jack kicked him in the rear end to give him a little boost on his way. It also warned him of the pain possible should he refuse.

  This time, the boy didn’t pause. His footsteps were slow, but they were steady and continuous. Soon, he’d be at the door and who knows what would happen then. Would the women snitch on her? Would they hide her
again? Would they expect her to restrain, beat or kill the boy?

  The women behind her realized the lad was coming and began to murmur amongst each other again. In a room towards the rear of the hut, the baby began wailing once more, disturbed by the heavy oppression of fear and unease.

  It was the same woman who’d urged Alix inside who spoke to her again, completely ignoring the gaggle of murmured conversation. “Come with me,” she said, and Alix grew to her feet, allowing the old woman to take her by the hand and lead her. She could have been taking Alix anywhere, perhaps to the front door, where she’d pull it open and shove Alix out to her destiny, but she didn’t.

  Instead, she led her into the back room. There was no door, just a crude opening where there weren’t stones. The whole structure seemed unstable, but Alix was unresisting. Around her, the other women warned the elderly leader not to do this. “Send her out,” one of them said. “This won’t end well,” whispered another. All the while, the baby mewled, begging someone to attend to it.

  In the rear room, the old lady pushed Alix against the wall, around the side of the doorway. Through the opening, across the front room, stood the front entrance. Alix had her back to it, perched around the corner. “Stay here,” the old woman whispered. “That man will come here for me. I’ve annoyed his father. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here, but you stay hidden until he leaves.”

  Alix nodded. It was the only movement that worked for her. She could barely process what was occurring. It seemed so surreal to her. She was being helped by criminals. They didn’t know her, they were surviving in a land without law and yet, they were possibly putting their lives on the line for her. Well, the old lady was. The others seemed willing to go along with her. Alix guessed she was the matriarch of the village if such a thing existed. This old lady was clearly respected and her word, in this village at least, carried authority.