by Ryan Casey
“Good,” Ally said. “We keep going. And we find ourselves a new home. No matter what it takes. And no matter who the hell we have to take from along the way.”
He turned around when he heard something up ahead.
He lifted a hand. Crept forward, edged towards the trees.
And when he saw them in the distance, he couldn’t contain the smile on his face.
Disbelief.
But a smile on his face, too.
Because they were alive.
The man.
The girl.
The dog.
Somehow, the bastards were alive.
And a woman and a boy were beside them.
Walking together.
Smiling.
Happy.
“Looks like we’ve got our revenge lined up, boys,” he said.
He took a deep breath.
Crept towards the trees.
Rifle pointed, right at that young girl, ready to fire…
Chapter Thirty-Two
Martin saw the buildings in the distance and felt his stomach knot.
It was afternoon. Even though he could see his breath clouding up in front of him, Martin actually felt pretty warm. Probably something to do with the pace they’d been walking at. Harriet, to her credit, was a bloody fast walker. Put Ella to shame on that front.
Damn. She put him to shame, too.
Martin looked ahead at those buildings. They’d seen smoke rising not long ago. Signs of life. He wondered whether he was making the right call here. He’d spent the last month telling Ella how damned dangerous the towns were. How to avoid other people at all costs. ’Cause other people couldn’t be trusted.
They’d heard something, too. Something that sounded like gunfire. Martin wanted to turn around right away. But the others told him it was probably just someone hunting. It wasn’t always going to be the worst-case scenario.
He supposed they were right.
Didn’t make him feel any better, though.
And still, here he was. Walking right into the lion’s den. No clue what he might come up against. What he might face.
Or what he might be leading his daughter towards.
“You okay?”
Martin looked to his left. Saw Ella walking alongside him.
He smiled at her. Nodded. Truth be told, they’d still not spoken a lot since the incident back at the caravan site. Every time Martin looked at Ella, he was filled with guilt over what’d happened—and what’d almost happened. “I should’ve been more cautious back there. And I guess that’s what’s bothering me. About this whole journey.”
Ella sighed. Half-smiled at him. “Don’t worry about me. Only a little bit of finger. When did that ever do anyone any harm?”
Martin shook his head. “Ella…”
“You need to stop beating yourself up about it. What happened, happened because you went charging in there trying to steal from those people. Not because we just happened to run into some people. But things aren’t always gonna be that way. Things are gonna be different. There’ll be good people out there. I mean, take Harriet.”
A smirk crossed her face as she glanced up ahead at Harriet, Oscar, and Bruce leading the way.
Martin cleared his throat. “What about Harriet?”
That smirk was still on Ella’s face. “Well. She seems… a good person. And I’ve seen the way you look at her. Like you think she’s a very good person.”
Martin shook his head. “Ella, that’s not true.”
“You don’t need to try and hide it. I know these things.”
“You don’t know a bloody thing.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not—”
“All okay, you two?”
Martin stopped. Harriet stood right ahead. Smile on her face. Looking from Ella to Martin.
“Um, yeah,” Martin said, stumbling over his words. “I, um—”
“Dad was just saying what a lovely person you seem. And how great it is to finally stumble upon someone he can trust.”
Martin glared at Ella.
Harriet smiled back at Martin. Lowered her head, as Oscar stood there, smiling up at all of them like even he was in on the joke here. “Well, that’s nice. A little creepy, I guess. But nice all the same.”
The hairs on the back of Martin’s neck stood on end. “Harriet, I didn’t—”
“Come on,” she said. “That town up ahead. We’re not far off. If there’s anyone there, we want to make sure we get scouting them in the daylight.”
She walked off again, Oscar by her side, still looking back at Martin with a smile on his cheeky little face.
“See,” Ella said.
Martin glared at her. “See what?”
“You do fancy her.”
Martin shook his head. “Ella, I do not—”
“If you didn’t fancy her, you wouldn’t care whether she thinks you’re creepy or not. But you do. And I think she likes you too.”
“I really don’t need relationship advice from my daughter, thanks very much.”
“You need it from someone. Last I heard, you’d never been with anyone since…”
She stopped. Trailed off. Lowered her head. Martin did, too.
Truth was, ever since Sarah, there had been women. Nothing serious. Nothing long-term. Someone to keep the bed warm at night, that kind of thing.
But there’d been nobody in his life that he loved like Sarah. After Sarah, it was difficult. One of those weird cases where you only really realised what you’d lost when it was already too late.
He’d tried letting other people in. He’d tried falling in love again.
But you couldn’t force love.
He turned to Harriet. She was an attractive woman. She seemed tough. Strong. He liked that.
But he’d barely known her a day.
He barely knew her at all.
The fact he was even thinking about romance in a world like this when the priorities were so different, was ridiculous.
He put a hand on Ella’s shoulder. Squeezed, just slightly.
“I appreciate your advice. But right now, we need to keep our eyes on the road. Don’t want to go getting complacent now, do we?”
Ella rolled her eyes. Nodded. “You’re such a bore, sometimes.”
“I’m your dad. If I were a barrel of entertainment, something wouldn’t be right. Now come on. Get a move on.”
They walked further towards those buildings. Didn’t say much. Martin just kept thinking about what kind of state the towns would be in. Deserted. Abandoned. Stripped of supplies.
It was mad even embarking on this journey. They needed to find somewhere in the countryside. A farm. Somewhere they could live off the grid at. Somewhere they…
No. He had to believe Harriet’s instincts were right. He had to believe what his own heart told him.
There had to be another community out there. A good community, who had their shit together.
They couldn’t just isolate themselves forever.
“So when are you going to ask her?” Ella asked.
“What?”
“Ask her out.”
“Are we still talking about this?”
Ella rolled her eyes. “I dunno. Picture the scene. Nice handmade fire. Lovely bit of squirrel. Bones sticking in your teeth. And…”
He thought Ella was just thinking up her next line of torment.
He shook his head. Looked up ahead. “Give it a break, Einstein.”
Then he stopped.
Harriet was still.
Oscar was still.
Bruce stood there, growling.
Up ahead, he saw the people step out.
Three people.
All armed with rifles.
Three people he recognised very much.
The people who burned down the cabin.
Who attacked the caravan site.
The leader, Ally, stepped forward, rifle pointed right at Harriet and Oscar.
“Well
hello there,” he said. “Fancy running into you again.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Martin saw Ally standing there, rifle in hand, and he knew all that optimism he’d felt just moments before was all for nothing.
The buildings loomed overhead in the distance. So too did that smoke. A reminder of how close Martin and his people were to finding some trace of life. Some possibility of hope. As sceptical as he’d been about it, he’d started to buy into it. He’d started to believe.
But of course, nothing was ever that simple.
Ally stood there. Rifle in hand. Pointing it right at Harriet, who clutched her son’s hand. The fear in their wide eyes. And the delight in Ally’s. Like he was a predator, closed in on his prey. Bruce stood by Martin’s side, growling.
“I mean, you’re a slippery bunch, I’ll give you that. Wriggling your way out of that log cabin after you killed one of my people. Worming your way out of that caravan site, killing another two of my people in the process. You’re a hard man to pin down. But karma always does its thing in the end, right?”
Martin lifted his rifle. Pointed it back towards Ally, and the two people flanking him. Ella kept her rifle out of sight.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ally said. Tilting his rifle. Making it clear it was aimed at Harriet. At Oscar. “’Cause believe me. There’s only one way this ends if you keep that rifle pointed at me right now. And it’s not pretty. Not like your new girlfriend, anyway. How you doing, love? You’re making a bad call hanging out with this guy. He’s trouble.”
“Don’t even look at me,” Harriet spat. “Don’t even look at my son.”
Ally smirked. Tilted his head. Kept his rifle pointed at Harriet but his gaze firmly on Martin. And on Ella. “She’s a toughie. I can see why you like her. It’s a shame how this has to end. Because we’re gonna see just how tough you actually are.”
“What the hell do you want?” Martin barked.
Ally’s smile widened. “Isn’t it obvious? We want a home, more than anything. We want to survive. Our people. Together. But you kind of threw a spanner in the works. Killed three of my people. Lowered morale to a point that... well. Another one decided he was better off without us. You’ve caused us a lot of problems, matey. A hell of a lot of problems. It’s only fair we even the stakes a little.”
He swung that rifle around. Pointed it at Bruce.
Nausea gripped Martin. He staggered forward. Lifted his rifle again. “No.”
But Ally lifted that rifle again. Pointed it at Oscar, now. “Like I said. Bad move, my friend. Very bad move. I’m gonna do something right now. I’m gonna give you a choice. A chance to even things. A chance to level the playing field. How’s that sound?”
“Don’t dick around,” Martin said.
Ally ignored him. “You took three of our people out. You didn’t have to. You could’ve just let us take your stuff. A momentary defeat for you. Boo hoo. You didn’t have to kill my people.”
“You tried to burn my home down,” Martin shouted. “You left me for dead. You left all of us for dead. How the hell can you even begin to spin this in your favour?”
“Everyone is someone else’s villain,” Ally said. “That’s just the way of the world. Difference between you and me? I’m not afraid to do what’s necessary for the good of my people.”
He lunged forward then. Walked right up to Harriet. Pushed that rifle into her chest.
“So choose,” he spat. “Two people, cause I’m kind like that. Or a dog if you have to. But choose. Choose, right this second. Then get those two people on their knees. Right now. Or I’ll butcher the lot of you.”
Martin’s heart raced. He couldn’t focus on anything else. Anything other than that rifle. Harriet. How close Ally was to pulling that trigger.
“Ten seconds. Choose. Right now. Or all of you die.”
Martin didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to say.
He just knew that he couldn’t let anyone fall.
He couldn’t let anyone die.
He stepped forward.
“Take me,” he said.
“Dad?”
Ally smirked at that. “The martyr. I should’ve known. I like that. Noble. Says a lot about your character.”
Martin looked away from Ally. Looked at Ella.
He saw the look on her face. Her wide eyes. Tears building in them. That rifle hanging loosely behind her. She looked so tempted to lift it. So tempted to fire.
But so eager to keep it out of sight, too.
“Don’t, Dad,” she said.
Martin smiled. “I have to, Ella-bear.”
“No. Take me instead.”
“Wow,” Ally said. “Another brave one. Daughter taking after her dad. Again. I like that.”
Martin watched Ella rush towards him.
He felt her arms wrap around him. The warmth of her slim, frail body. The sound of her crying.
And then he saw Harriet standing there. Oscar by her side. Wide-eyed.
“Hey,” he said, looking right at Ella. “Listen to me. Okay?”
“I want a decision on that other person, Martin,” Ally shouted.
Ella shook her head. Tears streaming down her face. “I don’t want you to go. I—I can’t survive. Not without you.”
“But you can,” Martin said. “And you will. Because Harriet needs you. Oscar needs you. And Bruce. He needs you too.”
“But—but my rifle. They haven’t seen it—”
“And that’s what you’ll use if they try to lay a finger on you when I’m gone.”
He reached for Ella’s face. Wiped a tear from her cheek.
And then he kissed Ella on her forehead and stood up. Faced up to Ally. Rifle still pointed at Harriet. He didn’t want to stay here. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Ella. He wanted it to be over. As quickly as possible.
“I won’t choose any of them,” Martin said. “But you’ll take me out. You’ll let my daughter live. And you’ll let Harriet and Oscar live, too. And Bruce. There’s no need for any more death here. I was the one who shot your people. I was the one who shot your friends. It’s me you want. Nobody else should have to suffer.”
Ally lowered his head. He shook it.
And then he turned his rifle towards Bruce and smirked.
“I’m sorry, matey. But that’s not how it works.”
He tensed his grip on the trigger.
Martin lifted his rifle. “No!”
What followed all happened so fast.
Ally went to pull that trigger.
Harriet threw herself at him.
Knife that Martin gave her in hand.
She stabbed it into his chest.
A stray bullet fired up towards the sky.
Ally tumbled down to the ground. Bleeding from his chest. Shock on his face. His two friends standing around him. Wide-eyed. Confused.
And as Ally fell to the ground, Harriet still stabbing at him, Martin knew he only had one choice.
He lifted that rifle and pointed it at the two men. Between them.
Ella and Martin stood over Ally’s struggling body. Rifles in hand. These two people standing there like rabbits in the headlights. Like they really didn’t see this coming.
“I’ll give you five seconds,” Martin shouted, so close to firing that rifle at the pair of them. “Five seconds to turn away. Five seconds to run. Five seconds to—”
A blast from his left.
One of the men fell.
Then the one beside him.
Martin didn’t know what’d happened. Not at first.
Not until he looked and saw Ella holding that rifle.
“Ella?” Martin said.
Ella lowered the rifle. Looked like she was shaking a little. Eyes wide. “They would’ve killed us the second they got a chance.”
She turned around. Walked over to Oscar’s side. Held him while he cried, caught up in this sudden nightmare.
And Martin could only stare at the bodies on
the ground.
He could only stare at the destruction all around him.
He could only think about how coldly his daughter had acted. The daughter who pushed him to try and reach out to people. The daughter who accused him of not giving people enough of a chance.
Killing two people before they even had a chance to argue their case.
He turned around. Walked to Harriet’s side. Saw her crouched there. Sitting over Ally’s twitching body.
Hand on his gently moving chest.
Like she was trying to comfort him.
Like she was sorry.
Martin put a hand on her shoulder.
She swung around. Turned that knife on him.
“Hey,” Martin said. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”
She looked up at him with wide, crazed eyes.
And then she lowered that knife and looked back at Ally as the blood crusted on her hands.
The group stood there in silence.
Ally’s body stopped twitching.
But all of them stayed standing.
Chapter Thirty-Four
They weren’t at the town of Garstang long when they realised there was nobody here waiting for them.
The afternoon sun shone between the buildings. Most of their windows were smashed, the glass scattered on the pavements. Some of the buildings were boarded up. Old shop fronts were barricaded off, but it was clear they hadn’t been occupied for quite some time.
And the sight of the cars still got to Martin. So many cars stacked up against one another. Some of them slammed into one another, the metal all contorted and twisted.
Windows smashed. Doors ajar.
People inside some of those cars. Dead. The last of the flies buzzing around them. The stench from them ghastly.
The further he walked down this street, the more Martin wished he’d never come here.
Harriet was quiet. So too was Ella. Neither of them had said much since their incident on the road. Martin kept thinking about the look on Ella’s face when she’d shot Ally’s people in cold blood. And the glassy-eyed stare on Harriet’s face, too.
Like this was just the new normal.
Like killing was just a part of everyday life now.
And that didn’t sit right with Martin. Even though he knew how damned far they had to go. Even though he knew Ally was a psycho, and his friends probably weren’t much better.