by Amy Dunne
Alex’s legs were ablaze. She dragged herself, but only managed a few centimetres before bald guy clawed a handful of her long hair and pulled. She screamed again.
“Well?” the bald guy asked.
Alex looked up through watery eyes. Scalding pain engulfed her scalp, making her eyes stream, but she refused to cry out again. She bit down hard on her tongue, suppressing sobs.
“I guess. But I want to make her suffer. I want to hurt her for what she did to Carter.”
“When it’s your turn, you can do whatever the hell you want. As long as you don’t kill her, I don’t give a shit.”
She should’ve listened to her dad’s warning. He’d tried to warn and prepare her. There was no one to blame but herself.
“Get up,” he said. He pulled her hair again.
Alex stood, unsteady on her feet. Indescribable pain ravaged her legs, threatening to drop her at any moment. Her long hair, wrapped around his fist and pulled taut, kept her helplessly restrained.
“What are we going to do about Carter?” Dave asked. He glanced down mournfully at the giant’s body.
“Nothing. He can stay there and rot.”
“That doesn’t seem right, man. He was one of us.”
“Well, now he’s dead. There’s no way I’m hauling his dead arse out to the outskirts, digging a hole, and burying the bastard in this heat. No way. I’ve got other plans.” He tugged on Alex’s hair once more, his meaning clear.
“I suppose,” Dave said, his eyebrows furrowed. His face and neck flushed pink. “Can I have his penknife? I always thought it was cool. Like you said, he won’t be using it anymore.”
The other man laughed. “Take whatever the hell you want. His stash of weed is on him somewhere, too.”
Alex watched Dave drop her handgun next to the body of Carter. Using both hands, he rummaged inside Carter’s pockets.
It’s now or never, Alex. You’ve got to at least try. She heard her dad’s voice so clearly, it was like he stood beside her. Without hesitation, she did what came naturally. She gripped the cool familiar handle and quickly withdrew the hunting knife from its sheath. In one fluid motion, she thrust the blade backward and felt as it met with resistance before being enveloped. She twisted it twice.
The bald guy’s screams filled the dense air as she wrenched the knife free. His grip instantly relinquished its hold of her hair. Without forethought, Alex charged toward Dave. His expression showed a mixture of horror and shock. In slow motion his hand reached for her gun, but he’d hesitated a second too long.
She drove her booted foot into his face and felt satisfaction as it connected with his nose. She heard the crack of bone splitting followed by a squelching sound. An explosion of blood sprayed from his face as he reeled backward. Alex grabbed the gun and turned just in time to see the other guy stumble toward her brandishing his own knife.
Feeling no guilt and almost perverse pleasure, she pulled the trigger. Half of the man’s head disappeared into a spray of blood, bone, flesh, and brain matter. His body crumpled into a heap two feet from where she stood.
She spun and raised the gun again. Dave cowered against the brick wall, his face bloodied and swollen. Apart from his destroyed nose, Alex also noted the bloodied mouth. Four teeth lay on the dusty pavement in front of him, saturated in a mixture of frothy spit and blood. He was blubbering—most probably begging—but his damaged mouth and nose made his ramblings incoherent.
Alex watched him for a while and felt nothing. She was numb. She could pull the trigger and kill him, or let him live. She felt indifferent. After another minute of watching him, she walked to the discarded rifle. Although she had no use for the rifle, especially as it was in a terrible condition, there was no way that she was going to leave it for him to use on small, defenceless animals or for retribution.
Let him see how it feels to be defenceless for a while.
She holstered her handgun and returned her bloodied knife back to the sheath before picking up the unfamiliar rifle. She checked and found one unused round in the chamber. Holding the rifle like a hunter, she stalked toward him.
“Where’s the rest of the ammo?” she asked, her voice cold and void of emotion.
Dave’s eyes continued to water but his hatred shone through. Instead of replying, he spat a wad of bloodied phlegm to the ground near to where she stood.
Alex smiled, a savage humourless smile. At some point during the last few seconds she’d made a decision. If he didn’t reply within the next minute, or if he refused to hand over the ammunition, she’d kill him with his own gun. The destination of the bullet, the amount of pain, and the quickness of death, she hadn’t decided yet.
He must have sensed his time was running out, because his defiance wilted and he pointed over to the bald guy’s body.
“Bring it to me.” She watched as he stumbled to his feet and wiped his bloodied chin with a hand. His gaze darted down to his broken teeth.
“If you try anything, I’ll shoot you in the stomach and leave you to die a long, agonizing death, right here with your buddies. The smell of fresh meat and your warm pooling blood will quickly attract a lot of attention. If you’re lucky, you might be dead or passed out before the wild dogs and rats come to feast on you.” She shrugged like it didn’t matter to her at all. “Are you feeling lucky?”
Dave began to blubber and obediently trudged over to the warm corpse. He gagged at the sight of the half-missing face and skull. The unrecognizable gunk that mattered the area around the body was drying quickly in the heat. Squeezing his eyes shut, holding his breath, and grimacing, he managed to move the corpse and pull free the grey sack. He offered the bag to Alex and she snatched it with her free hand.
Without speaking, she turned and walked back in the direction of the red car and her hidden possessions. She tied the bag of ammo to her belt, pulled her backpack on, and shouldered the shotgun and rifle.
As she made her way back to the street she pulled out her handgun. It allowed her to move easily. As she rounded the corner she wasn’t surprised to find Dave gone.
Her main priority was to get out of this town as quickly as possible. Although she doubted there was anyone else, she didn’t want to tempt fate. Plus, Dave might come back, seeking revenge with his own gun.
She left without acknowledging either body, and after a few steps came to the lamp post and puppy. She looked down at the pathetically helpless fluff ball. It’d succeeded in almost wrapping the entire rope and itself to the post. Suddenly, she sensed unseen eyes watching her. Time was running out. She contemplated the idea of just leaving the puppy. She didn’t have time to waste on rescuing it.
Two small brown eyes beseeched her and floppy ears pressed down against the small head. Its fur was a variety of colours—merging browns, gold, and black markings. Although she wasn’t an expert on dog breeds, she was pretty sure this puppy was a German shepherd, and a long-haired one, if the amount of fur was anything to go by. Its little body visibly shook and a terrified whine escaped.
“Screw it,” she whispered under her breath. She might have just killed two men but she wasn’t that much of a monster. “Okay,” she said soothingly.
Holstering the handgun, she took out her blood-stained knife, knelt, and felt the tiny body tremble against her. She carefully moved some of the soft fur from around the puppy’s neck. A flash of anger seared through her at the sight of the bloodied rope and raw ligature wounds. Sick bastards!
Being as gentle as she could, she managed to cut the rope away without inflicting any further pain. The puppy was finally free. “There. Now you better get out of here and go back to wherever you came from. He’s watching us, and I won’t be here to save your little furry backside next time.” The puppy licked her bloodied hand with its tiny pink tongue.
“You’re welcome. Now go on, scoot,” she said, standing and scanning around warily. She could feel Dave’s eyes boring into her with hatred. He was out there, watching, and waiting. She could sense it.
Frustrated, she shouted, “Don’t follow me! I won’t be slowed down by you, so, just go away. Go on. Scram.”
The puppy stopped a few feet from where she stood, its tongue lolling from its mouth as its body shook with each huge, panting breath. It sat and looked at her, tail excitedly brushing the street.
“I mean it. Get lost,” Alex said in her most aggressive tone. Increasing her frustration, the puppy merely cocked its head to the side, studying her. “I haven’t got time for this. You can’t keep up. You’re going to get us both killed.”
The puppy tilted its head to the other side. It yapped at her again in its high-pitched tone and trotted toward her.
Alex shook her head in dismay. She’d already wasted too much valuable time and knew that her dad would be furious with her. She turned just before the puppy reached her and strode off again, taking large, determined steps. She ignored the cries of protest and refused to turn around. After another three streets of marching, she slowed down, out of breath. There hadn’t been any yapping for quite some time. Turning, she surveyed the empty street behind her. No puppy. She was alone. “Good riddance,” she said. But overwhelming loneliness that had hounded her since losing her dad crashed over her.
She couldn’t be responsible for a puppy. She’d never owned one. She didn’t have a clue how to look after it. But her conscience refused to believe the pathetic excuses she conjured.
Slow you down? You don’t even have a destination.
You’ve been moaning you’re lonely. As you haven’t got the guts to end your pathetic existence, why not have a little companion?
It’s tiny and helpless.
You’re just as sadistic as those men. They were at least going to kill it quickly, but you’ve just left it to suffer and die alone.
All sorts of things would take pleasure in hunting and hurting that small, cute animal.
You’ve sentenced it to death.
You could’ve at least guided it out of this godforsaken shithole of a town before abandoning it.
Her conscience, which had been her only companion during the solitary weeks, rocketed her with its stark revelations. She felt like a monster. What would her mum, Dianne, and her dad say? They’d be ashamed. She felt equally guilt-ridden and mortified by her actions.
While she continued her self-torture, she left herself exposed. By the time she saw what was coming straight at her, it was too late to prevent it. The puppy yapped aggressively. It half slumped and fell into a lying position on the ground before her. Its tongue flickered in and out with each panted breath, like a snake’s.
Alex looked down. The puppy was exhausted. Although she still felt incredibly guilty for having abandoned it, she also felt a sense of admiration at the determination of the little thing.
“Fine. I’ll take you out of this town, but that’s the end of the line, fluff ball. I do not want or need you. Do you understand me?” Alex asked sternly, placing her hands on her hips.
The puppy’s response was to yawn dismissively and scratch a floppy ear with one of its hind paws.
“Okay. Well, we’ve got to go. No offence, but your legs are just too small. I’m going to have to carry you. I want to get enough distance between us and this town before I set up camp and you go on your way.”
The puppy sneezed and then blinked, clearly surprised by the bodily function as if it were an entirely new experience. It shook its head and looked up at Alex once more. She purposely ignored the cuteness as she marched over and scooped it up into her arms. She avoided going near its sore neck and was pleasantly surprised by how light and compliant it was. The brown eyes were watching her and she could’ve sworn she saw trust.
“I really have lost it,” she said, as she started walking again. The puppy licked her face. “Stop it. I don’t want to be covered in puppy slobber. It’s gross.”
The puppy gave one last lick, which Alex could’ve sworn it did on purpose, before nestling against her chest and falling promptly asleep. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re on your own tonight,” she whispered softly, so as not to disturb the sleeping bundle she held protectively in her arms.
Chapter Three
Evelyn Bennett dried her hands on paper towels as she watched Tanya leave the medical room. She dropped the crumpled towels into the bin and tried to quell her anger.
“Bastard,” she whispered.
Tanya disappeared out of sight and Evelyn rushed to lock the door. The blinds were already drawn, so she took advantage of the limited privacy to hide her stash of tablets. Kneeling on the floor, she pried the small iron grate with her fingernails to remove it. The packets of tablets were wrapped in cloth and zipped inside a black waterproof makeup bag. She pushed them deep into the narrow gap, scraping her knuckles on the brickwork in the process.
A loud knock sounded on the door.
“Just a moment,” she said, trying to sound casual. She fumbled with the grate and eventually managed to get it back in place. Scrambling to her feet, she shoved the heavy cabinet with her shoulder, moving it in front of the grate.
The pounding continued to rattle the wooden door.
Evelyn scanned around the room to make sure she hadn’t left any of the contraband out. She couldn’t see any and didn’t dare to waste any more time. As she walked to the door, she ran her hands over her curly red hair tied in a ponytail. She swept the plastic apron aside and brushed down the scuffed knees of her jeans.
She braced herself, flicked the lock, and opened the door.
“Hi, Mum,” Jamie said, beaming a smile that showed the gap where his left lateral incisor was missing.
She blew out a shaky breath and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. “What was all that banging about?”
He looked up at her. His brown eyes sparkled with vitality but were also wise beyond their years. The unprecedented horrors he’d witnessed had left their marks. There was no such thing as innocence anymore.
“I missed you,” he said simply.
“You did?” she asked. She ruffled his sandy hair affectionately.
“Yeah.”
“I missed you, too.” She hugged him tightly. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought it possible to love someone so completely. He was the light of her life, her reason for living. Everything she did was for him. Her maternal drive to love and protect him was firmly rooted in the very fibre of her being. She’d taken on the mantle of motherhood easily, even though it’d been thrust upon her suddenly and without warning.
“Why couldn’t I help fix Tanya this time?” he asked. The question was innocent without a hint of sulking.
“Sometimes people need more than medicine to get fixed. When you’re older, you’ll understand.”
“Am I still your apprentice?”
“Of course.” She knelt down so they were eye to eye. “You’re the best apprentice I’ve ever had. You’ve seen a lot, kiddo. More than you should have.” Part of that was her doing. She often wondered if having him as her apprentice was the right thing to do. He was six years old. A child. And yet she insisted he help out in the medical room to learn about medicine and treatments. He was already desensitized to blood and gore from having witnessed the effects of the Red Death. Even on the occasions when she felt squeamish, he didn’t bat an eyelid. Whether it was right or wrong to have him witness the things he did while learning medicine, it was the only sure-fire way she could protect him. In the end, that was all that mattered.
“Should I clean up?” he asked. He peered over her shoulder into the room.
She shook her head. “I’ll manage. There isn’t muc
h to do. Will you do me a huge favour?”
He pouted a little and crossed his arms. “You’re gonna make me go see Joe and Matilda.”
She fought the urge to smile. “You’re right. I know I said we’d do some school stuff, but something really important has come up. I need to go and speak to Elijah.”
At the mention of Elijah’s name, Jamie stood up a little straighter. Fear showed itself in the tiniest of mannerisms that only she could pick up on. With big eyes he looked around warily and gave a firm nod.
“I’ll go find Joe,” he whispered.
“Good lad. I’ll come and find you afterward.”
“Are we still gonna do maths?” he asked eagerly.
This time she couldn’t help but laugh. How could a child be so interested and excited when it came to studying? His brain was like a sponge and he thrived on all of the subjects she taught him. In five months, he’d excelled and was now learning stuff she’d been taught as a teenager. His intelligence was matched only by his bravery and sensitive nature.
“Sure. Now go on. Off you go. Remember to run there—”
“And to keep out of trouble. And not to speak to nobody.” He lowered his voice into a conspiring whisper. “Especially not David and Claire. I know, Mum.” He puffed out his small chest. “I’m not a baby no more.”
“I know you’re not. I just worry about you. That’s my job.” She pointed to her cheek and he obligingly planted a sloppy kiss. “See you later, alligator.”
“In a while, crocodile,” he said with a cheesy grin. True to his word, he sprinted off down the main pavement and disappeared from view.
Her heart ached, full to the brink with love for him. After all the horrific things he’d experienced, a lot of which she’d never know, he still remained a gorgeous little boy. He was polite, friendly, mischievous, curious, and above all else, loving.
She returned to the examination table and the bloodied equipment and waste. Donning a pair of blue latex gloves, she cleaned and sanitized everything. Her anger had dissipated while she’d spoken with Jamie, but after cleaning up Tanya’s blood, her temper seethed beneath the surface. Phil had gone too far this time, the sick, sadistic, coward. Tanya had begged her not to say anything, but Evelyn had outright refused. If she didn’t speak up and make Elijah intervene, she dreaded to think what would happen to Tanya next time. The assaults were becoming more frequent and significantly more brutal.