by Shaun Baines
"I said, we'll find her."
Daniel knew what Bronson was intimating. Karin's injuries were extensive and she'd been through a lot. After her fight with Crash, the adrenaline would have carried her outside, away from the warehouse, away from the people sent to help her. How many steps had she taken before it had worn off? What state was Karin in when it did?
The scout hut had been cleaned. The tired tables and chairs had been returned to their upright position. The floor had been swept of debris and some of the memories of Crash's final raid. Fear still stained the walls.
A handful of teenagers stood stooped in the corner, their youthful hue bleached. Hoods hung over their faces. They fiddled with phones, but without their previous enthusiasm.
"This is ridiculous," Daniel said.
He jammed a thumb and forefinger into his mouth and emitted a high-pitched whistle.
The teenagers jumped to attention.
"Wake up," Daniel shouted.
The doors to the scout hut were kicked open. Bear and Hannah staggered inside carrying boxes.
"Where do you want these?" Bear asked.
Daniel gestured to a table and Bear emptied out the contents of his box. There were crisps, breadsticks and dips, cake and quiche. Hannah produced bottles from her container, stacking lemonade, cola and juice in a line. Daniel noticed the odd bottle of vodka to which he turned a blind eye.
"You've been given a second chance," Daniel said. "Enjoy it."
The teenagers ambled to the table, silently daring each other to be the first to eat.
A small hand slipped into his and Daniel looked down to see his daughter.
"Where did you come from?" he asked her.
"Uncle Bear," she said, chewing loudly on a piece of gum.
"And did he give you that as well?"
Eisha blew a bubble, puffing it into an oily balloon. It popped and coated her chin in pink.
She pointed at Bear and Hannah, who were watching Daniel closely.
"They want to talk to you," Eisha said.
Chapter Fifty-One
They retired to the room marked with an X. Sophia remained at the party when Bronson explained it was Dayton business.
Daniel settled on a sagging hospital bed.
"What's going on?" he asked.
Bear and Hannah stood side by side. Bronson paced the floor. Eisha sat on her own, playing on her phone. Daniel didn't need to look at her to know she was listening.
"We're leaving Five Oaks," Bear said into his sunken chest. "There's nothing there for us anymore."
Daniel brushed his knee free of imaginary dust. "When did you decide?"
"You're going nowhere," Bronson said. "Daniel took you in when you were at your lowest ebb. Where's your loyalty?"
"I've paid my debt to the Daytons," Bear said.
"And I've paid mine, too." Hannah slid in front of Bear, protecting him from Bronson's angry stare, but she addressed her words to Daniel. "I'm grateful to you. I really am. You could have killed me. Instead, you took me in."
"So why do you want to leave?" Daniel asked.
Hannah lowered her head. "Because I watched my father die."
Her voice reverberated around the empty room and Daniel sat up.
"Viper is dead," Hannah said. "He was shot because he killed the Sheriff."
Bear sidled forward, his hands clasped in front of his chest. "You have to let us go," he said to Daniel.
"Who shot Viper?" Daniel asked.
"Simon," Hannah said and she related what she had witnessed at the Bull and Cart pub. Taking a moment to compose herself, she looked Daniel in the eye. "My Dad might have been a tool. He might not have been, but he didn't deserve to be executed. I thought I was next, but Simon turned the gun on himself."
Daniel shuffled to the edge of the hospital bed. "Why?"
"Because he didn't know how to go on," Bear said, pulling Hannah to his side. "He lost what made him human."
Did the Sheriff die knowing her son was the mastermind behind her torment? Crash had lied to her, filled her heart with worry. The Sheriff had believed he was a victim, not the accused. It seemed a mother's burden to carry that kind of weight and Daniel thought of Liz.
He rubbed his face, feeling exhaustion seeping into his bones. "What do you need?"
"To stay?" Bear asked, his eyebrows raised.
"To go." Daniel stood, clapping a hand on Bear's shoulder and another on Hannah's. "I suspected this was going to happen. You've both been through too much. The Daytons – my family – can't give you the protection you deserve. Maybe you'll do a better job of protecting each other."
The room fell silent until it was punctuated by Bear sobbing. Daniel withdrew, too embarrassed to engage further.
Hannah patted Bear's arm and led him to the door. She paused to give Daniel a smile.
"Be seeing you," she said.
Daniel nodded. "You better."
Hannah opened the door and the sound of the party flooded in. She took Bear by the hand and they left. Neither of them looked back.
Air whistled through Bronson's pursed lips.
Eisha joined Daniel by his side. "Don't be sad," she said.
"They were part of our family. Doesn't it bother you?"
"That they're gone?" Eisha asked. "We can find them if we need them."
"Smart kid," Bronson said, ruffling her hair. "So what now?"
Daniel pictured Bear and Hannah leaving a scout hut that was a haven for lost souls. They'd find a home of their own. They'd be their own family, leaving Daniel's family behind. He would be left with Eisha and Bronson, and Princess the scruffy guard dog.
And he knew he'd do anything to protect them from harm.
Aside from telling the truth.
"I'm adopted," Daniel said, drawing Eisha close. "My brother and I aren't Daytons."
Bronson laughed, but then his face froze. "You're what?"
"That's what you wanted to know," Daniel said. "That's what I've been hiding."
"You're adopted?" Bronson repeated, dropping onto a nearby bed. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't your father? What about Liz?"
The questions came like bullets and Daniel did his best to withstand them. He'd expected them. He'd spent months wondering how to answer them and had never found a solution. How could he tell Bronson Daniel wasn't the man he thought he was?
"Daddy was worried about telling you," Eisha said, "because he thought you'd like him less. He wanted to fit in with you."
It was Daniel's turn to laugh. It really was that simple, wasn't it? In a world where he was feared more than loved, he couldn't lose any more friends.
"You lived for the Dayton family," Daniel said. "I couldn't tell you they didn't exist. That it was just me."
"And me," Eisha said, interjecting.
"I wanted to protect you from that," Daniel said. "From everything, really."
"That's why you've been trying to control me," Bronson said.
"I went too far." Daniel traced a scar on the back of his hand. "I was given a memory stick containing details of my adoption. I'm a stranger. Even I don't know who I am."
Bronson groaned. "The memory stick," he said.
There was despair in his tone and Daniel stiffened.
"She wanted me to find it for her," Bronson said, "but why? Surely she already knew what was on it."
"Who are you talking about?" Daniel asked.
"I fall for it every time."
"Fall for what?" Daniel remembered discovering his mother in unexpectant places. He'd known she was looking for the stick, though he never wondered why.
Daniel rubbed his knees, massaging an ache in his bones. "I stopped trying to figure Liz out years ago."
"You're really adopted?" Bronson asked, turning away from Daniel and Eisha. "Is that why you hate the Daytons? Why you always fought with Scott?"
"It wasn't hatred. I just wasn't one of them."
It was another lie, Daniel thought, but one he could stomach for the ti
me being. Hate had been a big part of his childhood.
"But you were right about me," Bronson said. "I'd do anything for your parents."
"Liz can search for that stick all day long," Daniel said. "I'm smarter than her. She'll never find it."
Bronson pressed a finger into his twitching cheek. "She did find it because I stole it for her."
"What?" Daniel's raised voice made Eisha jump and he placed a comforting hand on her. "You did what?" he asked again in a softer voice.
"I didn't know," Bronson said. "How could I know?"
"You took it from my bedside cabinet?"
Bronson stormed around the room, knocking the flimsy beds out of his path. "I needed to know as much as Liz did, but I never suspected that. I thought we were friends."
"We are. I didn't want this to come between us. What if you were my friend because I was a Dayton? And not because of who I am."
"But you don't know who you are," Bronson shouted. "That's the point."
"Daddy?"
Daniel looked to his daughter's upturned face and she offered up her phone, pointing at the screen.
"Good girl," he said before glancing at Bronson. "Can you take Eisha back to Five Oaks?"
Bronson stopped waving his arms. "You're leaving? Now?"
"Will you?" Daniel asked, hoping he wouldn't have to ask again.
His friend's eyes flitted between the two of them. Whatever steam had been hissing from Bronson's ears seemed to dissipate and he held out his hand.
Eisha skipped over to him and embraced him in a hug. "Daddy was worried about nothing, wasn't he?"
Bronson snorted through his nose. "Well, I can't abandon you now, can I?"
For the first time since learning of his past, Daniel's shoulders relaxed. His muscles dropped like boulders careening down a hillside. He was light. He was accepted, at least for now. There was no shame in being abducted as a baby. That fault lay with his parents and the man who had taken him. Running from it, allowing it to stoke his fear, that was Daniel's fault, but not anymore.
"Thank you, mate," Daniel said, striding to the door. "For everything."
"Wait? Where are you going?"
"Liz has the memory stick?" Daniel asked.
Bronson nodded. "What difference does it make now?"
The party was growing louder, but it didn't irritate Daniel the way it might have done moments ago.
"Because now I know where to find her," he said.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Liz loitered by the cereal aisle of the corner shop. The shelves stopped at shoulder height and she watched a man at the other end of the store. His face was a patchwork of red and his hair was dirty. He stood in the wine section, studying the labels like a connoisseur. Putting one bottle back after another, he slinked closer to the discount wines and two-for-one offers. Finally, he selected a bottle of cheap cider and moved away, nodding to her as he passed.
She waited until his back was turned and scurried to the alcohol shelves, putting three bottles of the same cider in her basket. Her eyes went to the wine and she remembered the cellar at Five Oaks where the bottles were covered in dust.
"I like that brand, too." The man had returned and peered into her basket. He smiled and Liz saw he was missing two front teeth. "I should really cut back, though."
Liz's arm strained against the weight in her basket. "I'm having a party."
The man nodded. "Me, too."
The smell from his clothes made Liz gag. He wore a shirt tucked into tracksuit bottoms and a padded coat with grey wisps of lining poking through its holes.
He stepped closer and Liz breathed through her mouth.
"I used to see you here a lot," he said. "Do you live round here?"
The shop was at the end of her street. It had been a regular haunt before going into recovery. Walking passed the shop for the first time was a victory Liz had savoured, like the cheap wine she used to purchase on a daily basis. She'd almost forgotten what the interior of the shop looked like, but not the smell. It greeted her like an old friend.
Liz glanced at the till where Mr Raj watched them through beaded eyes.
"I'm not local," she said and slid through the gap between the man and the shelves.
But he grabbed her by the arm. "Wait," he said, smiling again. "You should get some nibbles and stuff. If you're having a party, that is."
Her cheeks went rosy and she shook her arm free.
"I was just about to do that." She hurried to the snack aisle and threw random packets of food in her basket. The man shuffled among the alcohol, pretending to browse.
The basket grew too heavy and Liz hauled it to the till, wrenching it onto the counter.
"Is that all?" Mr Raj asked, not meeting her eye.
Liz studied the scuff marks on her shoes.
"That'll be thirteen pounds and twelve then please."
Liz handed over her credit card. "I don't have cash," she said.
She smelled the man before he joined her in the queue. He held a grubby five-pound note in his hand.
"I'm drinking mine in the park if you want to come," he said.
Pulling Liz's card from the reader, Mr Raj offered it back. "It's not working. Do you have another?"
"No, I don't. Try it again."
"I've tried twice. Do you have any cash?"
Liz bit the inside of her cheek. "I've already told you, I don't have any cash."
Mr Raj shrugged, looking at her.
"So, you're not going to serve me then?" she asked, feeling herself grow hot.
"No money," Mr Raj said, waving her useless credit card at her. She snatched it from his hand and looked to the man behind her. The smile slipped from his face while the grip tightened on his five-pound note.
Drumming her fingers on the counter, Liz fought her rising desperation. "But I'm having a party."
The smelly man coughed into his hand.
"Could you return your items please?" Mr Raj asked, though it didn't sound like a question to Liz. "I don't want to call the police."
"What? For holding up the queue?"
His hand went under the counter. Whether Mr Raj was reaching for a phone or a bat, Liz didn't want to know. She struggled back to the snack aisle and hurled crisps and nuts onto the floor.
"Unbelievable," she said to herself, staggering to the alcohol section and setting her cider down. She wasn't about to refill the shelves unless she was getting paid and that type of work was beneath her. Liz abandoned her basket, but paused by a row of miniature spirits. They were knock-offs. She could tell by the labels. The lettering was blurry and she'd spent enough time around booze to know Moo Moo Gin wasn't a leading brand.
She rubbed her fingers on the palm of her hand while her mouth watered.
Mr Raj was preoccupied counting out change, but the smelly man was looking directly at her. He gave her a small nod and swiped his hand across the counter, knocking his cider to the ground.
"Oh, dear me," he said, loudly. "I'm so clumsy."
Mr Raj leaned over the counter. As the man scrambled after his bottle, Liz quickly filled her pockets with miniatures, careful not to break any. She kicked her basket into the shelf, toppling bottles onto the floor. Stepping over them, eyes forward, she marched passed the shop owner.
"Put your own bloody cider away," she shouted.
Outside, she drew in a lungful of air, feeling her heartrate slow. The shop door opened and closed, and the smelly man grinned as he joined her.
"Do you want to go to the park now?"
Twisting the top off his cider, the fizz shot out like a geyser, bathing him and soaking his clothes. He spluttered, aiming the foaming arc into his mouth. Swallowing as fast as he could, the geyser eventually lost its ardour and died to a dribble running over his hand.
The man licked his fingers and smiled at Liz. "So do you want to? There are others like us. We meet every day. We're a family."
The air grew cold and Liz realised she was standing in a shadow. Looking behin
d her, she saw Daniel's large form.
"I'm family," he said, "and she's coming with me."
Chapter Fifty-Three
Daniel stood over the sink in his mother's kitchen. It was a small room with painted orange walls and battered cupboards. Black mould bloomed in the grouting of the floor tiles. The sink was filled with empty spirit bottles and Daniel poured the contents of the last one down the plughole.
"What happened?" he asked.
Liz folded her arms into a knot. "You happened."
The final bottle clattered into the sink and Daniel stirred the collection with a finger. "I'm the reason you drink?"
His mother had been working her own agenda since Daniel stumbled upon her. It had ended in her abduction and a relapse in her sobriety. She had been forced down the wrong road and it had added creases to her face she would come to regret.
"We didn't know you were at the warehouse," Daniel said.
"I got drawn in," Liz said, "but I was working my way out."
"Until Crash stole my van and took you with him." Daniel turned from the sink to stare at his mother. He needed to see her face. Every tremor, shift and breath. Liz had escaped Crash, but not her son.
"He found your keys at the warehouse," Liz said. "They must have fallen from your pocket. When I went outside, he was waiting for me. He threw me into the back of your van. Did you know there was someone else in there?"
Daniel winced. He remembered he had forgotten to release the truck driver.
"How did you escape?" he asked.
Liz shook her head. "I'm not going to let you interrogate me," she said. "I want to know how you found me?"
"I'm not a Dayton, but I think like one." Daniel flashed the kind of smile he remembered his father making whenever he'd bested an enemy. "The memory stick you stole wasn't what you thought it was. It was a tracker."
"That's a lie."
Daniel shrugged. "I'm getting smarter, but not smart enough. It was Eisha's idea."
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a memory stick he knew was identical to the one his mother had stolen. "This is what you were after. It never left me."
Liz's hand went to her neck, her fingers fumbling with a chain. She yanked the memory stick from under her blouse, regarding it in disbelief.