by Ryan Casey
He wanted everyone in this group to be a part of his new group.
Everyone except Chloë.
As for Pete… well, his future depended on circumstances.
It’d be easy to get Hassan to do her dirty work. She was good at manipulating him. Helped that his infatuation with her hadn’t wavered over the years.
But she knew it wasn’t the right way.
She knew there were better ways to go about this business.
And Hassan played his part in that.
A very important part.
“Things will work out for the best,” Anisha said. “One way or another.”
She looked at Hassan. Kissed him on his salty lips.
Then she walked quicker. Walked towards the rest of the group. Towards Chloë.
She felt the weight of the pistol in her right pocket.
The wire in her left.
Things would work out for the best.
And now Chloë had done a fine job of turning the entire group against her, they’d work out soon.
Very soon.
A wire or a bullet would make sure of it.
19
NINETEEN
For the first time in a long time, Chloë was grateful for the darkness.
The remaining seven group members settled for the night atop a hill on the edge of the woods. Chloë wasn’t keen on stopping near the woods. She especially wasn’t keen about stopping somewhere without proper shelter. Nothing but the sleeping bags.
But the rest of the group seemed to disagree.
And she wasn’t in a position to argue with them right now.
She stared up at the stars. Her eyes stung. She couldn’t sleep, not even if she tried. So she did what she’d done when she was alone in those woods. She looked into the sky and pretended she was back home. Looking out of her bedroom window. Elizabeth in the bed beside her. Mum and Dad in the other room.
And if she squinted enough, if she shut away the thoughts from her busy mind, she could hear the gentle snoring of the rest of the group and convince herself they were her family. She could hear Dad, so that was enough. She just had to focus on him. She just had to listen to him and for a moment, just for a moment, she was back home.
Then she tasted the dried blood on her lips and she remembered.
She felt a thickness in her throat. Thought back to the man. The man who’d pointed the gun at her, pointed the gun at the rest of the group. He’d shot the monsters. He’d shot the monsters and then he’d lowered his weapon.
And still, Chloë had stabbed him.
She remembered the looks on the faces of the rest of her group. Somewhere, deep down, she thought that’s what they’d want. Chloë showing her strength now the numbers of the group were down, right down. She thought they’d want her to show how tough she was. That she could make the difficult decisions.
But now she saw that’s not what they wanted at all.
They wanted her to trust other people.
Trust. Just the word sparked a pain in her chest. No. She couldn’t trust. She couldn’t trust because trusting meant relying on other people. And relying on other people was never a good idea. Never. She’d relied on so many people. She’d trusted so many people.
Not again.
Never again.
She listened to the wind brush against the trees. Beyond the wind, she could hear the sound of insects. Of animals squeaking. And the more she listened, the more she thought of those monsters. The ones who’d made the screaming noise.
And the more she thought of those monsters, the more she thought of Jackson.
She’d been stupid. Stupid for listening to him. Because he didn’t want her around. To him, Chloë was just an annoying kid. A distraction.
But now, he was heading to Pwllheli.
Chloë couldn’t let him get to Pwllheli before her. Before the rest of the group. Before—
She heard a rustling to the left.
She held her breath. The rustling grew louder. Or maybe that’s just because she was focusing on it.
No.
Louder.
Definitely louder.
Her heart picked up. She lifted herself upright. Hassan was supposed to be on watch. But Chloë knew how tired he was. Wouldn’t surprise her if he fell to sleep. Besides, she was awake. She was always awake.
She looked over to the source of the rustling noise.
Nothing but darkness.
And even thicker darkness amidst the trees.
She looked at the spot. Tried to listen for the rustling again. She’d heard something. She’d definitely heard something. But it’d stopped. Whatever it was, it’d gone. It’d—
She saw something move.
Chloë’s skin tingled. Her thoughts went fuzzy. Something was in the woods. Something was watching them.
No. Not some thing.
Someone.
She looked over at Hassan. Saw him flat out, fast asleep. Typical. Just when she needed him. Just when she needed someone.
She heard the rustling again.
Saw the movement.
Too dark to figure out who it was, but a definite movement.
She looked down at her knife. Held her breath. Maybe she could use the darkness. Use the darkness as a shield. She’d used it so many times in the past. Maybe she could use it again.
Yes.
She needed to defend the group.
She needed to—
“Help! Please!”
The voice was quiet. Nothing more than a whisper.
But Chloë recognised it.
She recognised it right away.
Anisha.
She swallowed. Stood. Rushed over towards the source of the movement, knife in hand. Something wasn’t right. Something just didn’t feel right.
Anisha. If she was in trouble, then why was she whispering?
Chloë stepped inside the mouth of the woods. Stared into the darkness. The sound of the insects grew louder. The snores of the remaining five group members drifted further away.
She gripped her knife tightly.
Listened for rustling.
Looked around for movement.
She felt herself go really cold as she stepped into the woods. What was she doing? She needed to alert the group. Needed to tell them someone was in the woods. That something had happened to Anisha.
But shit. Hassan. Hassan was supposed to be on watch. If anything happened to Anisha while he was on watch… Chloë didn’t like to think about how he’d react.
Still, she couldn’t do this alone.
She had to let someone know.
She had to—
She saw the movement again.
This time to her right.
And that voice again.
“Chloë! Is that—is that you?”
Louder this time.
Chloë squeezed her knife. Sweat dripped down her face even though she was cold. “It’s… Anisha? It’s me.”
She walked slowly towards where she’d seen the movement. Slowly towards Anisha’s voice.
The crickets stopped their singing.
The breeze lowered.
All Chloë could focus on was that spot.
That one dark spot where she’d seen the movement.
She reached it. Saw nothing. Nothing but darkness.
“Anisha?” she whispered.
She heard something crack behind her.
Started to turn.
The next thing she knew, she felt something wrap around her neck.
Squeeze tightly.
Drag her to the ground.
20
TWENTY
Chloë’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears as she was dragged to the forest floor, the wire growing tighter around her neck.
She tried to shout out. Tried to scream. But the wire was too tight. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t swallow. Her eyes bulged. Her cheeks went hot. Pain in her chest, lungs, throat—everywhere.
Someone had her.
It was over
.
This was it.
This was…
No!
She scrambled around with her one hand. Scrambled for something, anything she could use as a weapon. She grew dizzier. Black spots filled the already black surroundings.
And the wire wrapped tighter around her throat.
Tighter and tighter and tighter.
She scrambled around. Nothing. Nothing on the ground. Nothing within reach. Her knife. She could reach her knife. She could…
No.
Her knife was gone.
She was trapped.
This was it.
She thought about Dad. Alice. Dean. Cassandra. She thought about the entire group. About getting them to Pwllheli. Just like she’d promised. Just like she was supposed to.
And she felt an urge to fight. Not just for herself, but for them.
She had to fight this person.
She had to get them away…
Even though her thoughts were softening…
Even though the sounds of her breathing were loud.
Every movement painful, jarring.
She felt herself drifting. Felt the fight slipping away from her body.
And then she heard the groan.
It was ahead. Somewhere in the distance, up in front of her.
The second she heard it, the wire loosened. She heard a voice. A vaguely familiar voice. “Fuck.”
She heard another groan.
Somewhere in the dark.
Coming for her.
Coming for…
No.
She dragged herself away from the wire. Gasped for breath. Scrambled around with her tingly hands for a weapon, for her knife, for anything.
She felt the attacker try to drag the wire around her face again. But when they did, Chloë bit them. Bit right down on their hand. Kicked at them. Smacked them as hard as she could to get away.
The attacker fell back. Still enshrouded in darkness, so much so that Chloë couldn’t see their face.
Chloë rubbed her neck. Tried to breathe steadily to ease her racing heart.
She listened to the approaching groans.
Heard a few muffled voices from back at camp.
She looked at her attacker.
Looked at them crouching in front of her, clutching their hand.
She wanted to hurt them.
Wanted to see their blood for what they’d done.
She wanted to—
Her attacker ran.
Chloë watched them disappear into the darkness ahead. To her right, Chloë heard the monsters getting closer. She didn’t have long. She didn’t care. All she wanted was blood.
Blood for what this person tried to do.
Blood for stalking her group.
Her people.
She scrambled around for her knife. Had to be here somewhere. To her right, the monsters grew closer. Sounded like there was a lot of them. Five, ten, maybe more.
Didn’t matter.
Didn’t care.
All she cared about was finding the knife.
Chasing her attacker.
Making them pay…
She felt the cool metal of the blade.
A lightness filled her body. She lifted the knife. She had it. She had it and now she could use it.
Use it on her attacker.
Use it on—
Something scratched her right shoulder.
A monster growled at her, hidden in the darkness.
Chloë pulled herself away. Swung the knife where she thought its head was.
The knife bounced off its skin.
The monster kept on coming.
More monsters following.
Chloë stumbled back. She lifted the knife. Readied herself to attack. To take them on. Back at camp, she could hear movement amongst the rest of the group. See lights flickering through the trees.
She saw the silhouettes of the monsters.
And then she heard a scream.
Her skin froze. A scream. Just like the monsters made. The ones who’d attacked them the other day.
But no.
This was a scream she recognised.
Anisha’s scream.
Anisha.
Chloë lowered her knife as the first of the monsters threw itself at her.
She dodged it.
Then she ran in the direction of her attacker.
Heat rising behind her eyelids as she listened to that scream.
She’d heard her attacker’s voice. When they had the wire around her neck, she’d heard the attacker’s voice.
A woman’s voice.
The same voice as this scream.
No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t…
“Chloë!” She heard her dad. “Anisha!”
Anisha.
No.
Not Anisha.
Couldn’t be one of her own.
Couldn’t be…
She heard the scream again.
A few metres ahead. Just to the right.
Chloë slowed her run. Walked over towards the scream. Her hand shook as she held the knife. Her mouth went dry.
No. She couldn’t accept it. Couldn’t face it.
It couldn’t be her.
It couldn’t be…
In the newly emerged moonlight, she saw Anisha lying face flat in the dirt.
Her leg was snapped. Snapped in two. A bone poked out of her ankle. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
She looked up at Chloë. Looked up at her, moaning, trembling all over. “Please. Please.”
Behind Anisha, Chloë saw the silhouettes.
Saw the movement.
The monsters.
Chloë took a step towards her. Mind spinning. Thoughts in a daze.
Then she saw the gun just a few feet ahead of Anisha.
And, in Anisha’s hand, the black wire.
Chloë went just as lightheaded as she had when the wire had been wrapped around her throat. “You… you did it.”
“Please,” Anisha begged. “My leg. It’s—My leg—”
“You tried… you tried to kill me.”
Anisha didn’t nod. She didn’t shake her head.
She just kept on crying. Just kept on begging.
“Chloë!”
Dad’s shout. Getting closer. Lights flickering through the trees.
Behind the trees, the approaching monsters.
All of them groaning.
All of them staggering towards Anisha.
“He—he said it’d be better. He said it’d be better with you out the way. That—that we could trust him. Start again. Grow again.”
Chloë didn’t have to ask who “he” was to know. Jackson. Course it was Jackson.
Chloë walked up to Anisha. Didn’t say a word.
She crouched beside her. The echoing groans of the monsters got closer. The footsteps of her group, closer still.
She looked Anisha in the eye. Heart racing. Vision tunnelled.
“You tried to kill me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m—”
“He wants me dead. Which means he wants my dad dead too. You tried to kill my dad.”
Chloë grabbed Anisha’s pistol.
Stuck it in her back pocket.
Walked away.
“Chloë! P-please Chloë. Don’t—Don’t leave me. Don’t—arghhhhh!”
Anisha’s agonised screams filled the night.
Chloë listened to the monsters rip her flesh away.
Listened to them tear her skin.
Gobble up her insides.
Dad and Alice arrived. They saw Chloë first. And then their faces went pale. They staggered back. “What… what…”
And as Dad and Alice took down the stray monsters, as they fought them off, Chloë didn’t feel any guilt.
She just listened to Anisha’s screams.
Anisha, who’d tried to kill her.
Who’d tried to tear her group apart, just like the monsters were tearing her apart.
She listened to Anisha’
s screams and she felt like she’d done the right thing.
And that terrified her more than anything.
21
TWENTY-ONE
When the following morning came around, another member of Chloë’s group had gone.
And he’d taken his dead girlfriend’s pistol with him.
Hassan had fought with Dad and Alice to find the truth about Anisha. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep on watch. Couldn’t accept it.
He also couldn’t accept that Anisha just so happened to get attacked by monsters in the woods.
Chloë saw the suspicion in his eyes as she lay in the darkness.
She saw the anger. The accusation.
She saw the way he looked at her.
Like he knew.
Chloë looked ahead at the fields. There was a road in the distance. Long, empty. Dad said he’d scouted it out. Signs for Pwllheli, still 76 miles to go, so quite a way off. A couple of days, apparently, especially if they stopped for rest.
But Chloë knew they couldn’t afford to stop for rest.
Not now Jackson’s group were ahead of them.
She felt a numbness inside when she looked at the rest of her group. Dad. Alice. Dean. Cassandra. Just the five of them left. Barely enough to call a group. And yet they expected to reach Pwllheli. They expected to beat Jackson to the safe zone.
She knew it was pointless. She knew it was a lost cause. She saw that now.
Jackson would just tell the new group, whoever they were, what Chloë was. What she’d done. And they’d see the bad side. They’d see her for the bad things she’d done.
And Chloë knew nobody else would back her up.
Just her dad.
And what good was her dad’s word? What good was anyone’s dad’s word?
“Can’t understand where he took off to.”
Alice’s voice cut through Chloë’s wandering mind. Chloë didn’t look at Alice as she approached. She just stared at the fields and the road ahead. Listened to the muffled chatter of Dad, Dean, Cassandra. “Probably to Jackson’s group.”
“One hell of a gamble. Don’t you think?”
Chloë chanced a glance at Alice. She saw the frown on her face. The way Mum used to look at her when her school report wasn’t great. She turned right away. Looked down at her feet. “I guess.”
“And what does that tell you?” Alice asked.
Chloë swallowed. “Tell me about what?”
“About the state this group’s in. About the trust remaining. If a man chooses to walk away from us in the middle of the night on the off chance he might find his old group somewhere in the distance. What does that tell you about trust in you right now?”