by Ryan Casey
And he was wrong about that. He was wrong to resist any outsiders. He was wrong to seek solitude.
Because in the long run, he knew they needed to trust someone. They needed to seek some kind of shelter.
They’d been struggling a long time at the log cabin. It wasn’t some kind of idyllic life they’d left behind. It was scary. It was hard. And it was killing them, slowly.
But there was something else playing on his mind.
Something that’d really thrown a spanner in the works of everything.
He looked over to the left. Over towards that other darkening town, just out of sight.
“I was wrong to try and shelter you. I was wrong to try and hold you back from the outside world. But I was wrong about something else, too.”
Ella frowned. “What?”
Martin stood up. He took another bite of that awful, damned nasty protein bar, which welded to his teeth.
And then he looked down at Ella.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ve got a journey to go on. Before we can find anywhere. Before we can start again.”
Ella’s frown extended. “What’re you talking about?”
He looked off into the darkness. Tightened his hands around his rifle. And deep down, he knew what he had to do. Where he had to go. Exactly what he had to do.
“You were wrong, too.”
“I was wrong? About what?”
“About Harriet,” he said. “About Oscar.”
He looked back down at Ella, and he forced a smile.
“We can’t just give up on them. We can’t just leave them behind. Because... because no matter how little time we’ve known them, they’re our people. And we owe it to them to help them. To not leave them behind.”
Ella sighed. “We don’t know where they took her—”
“Lancaster,” Martin said.
“What? How can you be sure?”
He looked off into the distance. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About when Harriet was caught. I remember her saying something. Didn’t hear it at the time. Not properly. Couldn’t take it in. But she said a name. She said a name of a guy holding her. Owen.”
He looked around at Ella. “Are you sure?”
Martin shrugged. “As sure as I can be. As sure as I’ll ever be. And if she knew his name, it has to be because she knew him. Knew him from Lancaster. Fact is if there’s even a slightest chance I might be right… I have to take it. I can’t just leave Harriet and Oscar behind. They’re tough. I don’t doubt that. But we… we’re stronger together. I’m beginning to realise that now. So I can’t give up on them.”
He saw Ella’s eyes darting, scanning his face. Expected her to argue. Expected her to tell him he was mad.
But then she did something he didn’t expect.
She stood up.
She hugged him.
And then she stepped back.
“You’re right,” she said.
Martin stepped back a little. “Wait, what was that?”
“I’m not saying it again.”
“I think you should.”
Ella glared at him. “No. I’m not saying it again. But... but I can see what you were on about. I can see where you were coming from. And I can see why you want to help them. Even if it is just because you fancy Harriet.”
Martin sighed. “Don’t start that nonsense again.”
Ella smiled. And Martin found himself smiling, too.
And as the darkness grew, as the light receded, as those blackening towns got darker and darker, Martin stood by Ella’s side.
And in all the confusion, in all the chaos, he knew what he had to do.
Exactly what he had to do.
“Let’s go find Harriet and Oscar,” he said. “Let’s go get them out of whatever shit they’re in.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Harriet couldn’t see a thing.
She couldn’t make a sound.
She didn’t know where she was. But worse than that, she didn’t know where Oscar was.
Only that Owen had grabbed her out of nowhere.
Dragged her down that alleyway, punching her a few times in the stomach, winding her, leaving her unable to fight back.
And the next thing she knew, blackness.
She tried shouting out, but there was a gag around her mouth. Her throat was sore. Dry. She couldn’t see a thing. Figured she had to be blindfolded. Something was tied tight around her head, so tight it felt like it was going to burst her skull open.
It was so tight that she felt like she couldn’t even cry properly.
And all she wanted to do was let it all out.
All she wanted to do was cry.
Her nose was blocked. She could taste blood. She tried to move her hands and her legs, but they were tied up too. She couldn’t even properly tell if she was sitting or lying down. Everything was blurry. She could hear sounds, but only muffled ones.
She just knew that she was in trouble.
Big trouble.
And even worse... Oscar was in trouble.
She thought about what’d happened. Turning around. Seeing Oscar being scooped up in that street. Racing after him. Someone knocking her down. Grabbing her. Dragging her away.
And she remembered things after that, too. Muffled. Hard to put her finger on.
Martin shouting for her. Racing after her.
She had no idea how long ago that was.
She had no idea how long had passed since.
She didn’t even know where Oscar was—if he was still with her at all.
She tried to break free of the tight ties around her wrists when suddenly, she felt something yank from her head and saw light.
It was only dim light. Dim torchlight, shining right into her eyes, so bright.
She caught a look at her surroundings. A dark room. She was in a chair. Some kind of abandoned outhouse or cabin or something.
But right ahead of her, a light.
She could hear a voice from behind it. A muffled voice. Couldn’t tell who it was. Couldn’t make out what they were saying.
But then that person stepped forward. More into view.
And Harriet’s stomach sank.
Owen stood opposite her. That greasy hair swept back over his face. Those gaunt cheekbones. That creepy look in his eyes. Owen was a shit. He sucked up to Peter all the time. One of his closest allies.
He’d caught her.
And he’d brought her somewhere.
“Sleep well?” he asked.
Harriet looked around, trying to get her bearings. She was in some kind of room. Damp. Dark. Smelled like mould; every breath caught at the back of her throat. She could feel her teeth chattering. See cracks in the roof, which dripped water.
“You’re back at Lancaster if that’s what you’re wondering,” Owen said. “Just outside, actually. I figure we’d wait until tomorrow morning before we take you back there. I’m sure the people there will be keen to see what kind of punishment we’ve got lined up for their leader-killer.”
She tried to cry out, tried to shout, but her words were suffocated by that gag.
Owen frowned. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch that.”
He leaned forward. Yanked the gag from her mouth.
She tried to snap at his fingers in the process.
He tumbled back. Chuckled a little. “Whoa, there. Like a rabid dog. Calm down. This doesn’t have to get messy.”
“My son,” Harriet gasped.
Owen’s frown extended. He put a finger to his chin like he was really trying to remember. “Your son? I don’t remember seeing a little lad at all.”
“Liar!” Harriet shouted.
And then a crack.
A crack right across her face.
Sent her dizzy. Made that taste of blood build up in her mouth.
She looked around. Saw Owen’s face had changed. “You’re gonna be quiet. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”
She stared back at Owen. Tears streaming down
her cheeks. A broken tooth catching against her tongue. “I just want to know my son’s okay. Do what you want with me. I don’t care. But my boy. Please. He’s innocent in this, and you know it.”
Owen sighed. He looked away. And for a horrible moment, Harriet feared something had already happened to Oscar. Owen had done something to him. Done something to prove a point.
But then he looked back, right into her eyes. “Gavin? Bring him in.”
Harriet heard movement behind Owen. Then she saw movement over his shoulder.
And when she saw who it was, she couldn’t contain the smile that crept up her face.
“Oscar.”
Oscar stood in front of Gavin. He wasn’t gagged. He didn’t look in a bad way. Gavin stood behind him, hand on his shoulder.
But he looked upset.
Like he’d been crying.
“Mummy?”
Gavin walked Oscar over towards Harriet. So close he could see her. See the state she was in. And Harriet hated them both for this. Hated them for showing her to Oscar in such a weakened state. Such a broken-down state.
“Mummy? Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay, lovely. I’m okay. I swear.”
He frowned. Didn’t look convinced. “But—but the blood—”
“It’s... Remember that story? The one about the dragon and the prince? The queen. She’s... she’s at her weakest before she takes the castle back. Remember? She’s at her weakest before they get their home back. And before she lets the prince rule.”
His eyes kept on scanning Harriet’s face. Like this went beyond a story. The stories she used to be able to tell to make him feel better weren’t working as powerfully as they used to.
“You have to believe me,” she said. “You have to trust me. You brave boy. You brave, brave boy.”
Oscar stood still for a few seconds. He looked at Harriet. Like he still wasn’t sure. Like there was so much he wanted to say.
But then he just leaned forward and hugged her. Tight.
“I’m still a superhero,” he said. “And the superhero will save the day!”
She heard the optimism and the hope in his voice, and it broke her heart. She wanted to cry as she felt his warmth against her. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was. How brave he was. How strong he was.
She wanted to believe there was a world after her for him.
A world where he could survive and thrive.
“I’m so sorry, my prince. I’m so sorry.”
He stepped back. Smiled at her. A little of Harriet’s blood and snot on his cheeks. “Don’t be sorry, Mummy. You’re the queen. You’re the best. You’re always the strongest.”
Owen stood. “Okay. That’s quite enough, I reckon.”
Gavin pulled Oscar back. “Come on, young man. Let’s get you some food.”
She held on to Oscar’s little warm hands as Gavin edged him away. She tried to keep hold of them. Tried not to let go of them.
But she could only hold on so long.
One second, their fingers touching.
The next, him drifting away.
Off towards the door.
Off towards the darkness.
She watched him every step. Kept her eyes on him. Tried to hold back those tears. Tried to hold back the crying.
And then he looked back at her when he reached the door, and he smiled.
“We’ll take over the castle, Mummy,” he said. “We always win. Remember?”
And then Gavin pulled him outside, and the door slammed shut.
Harriet cried. She couldn’t hold back. She lost all sense of her surroundings, of who was around her. She just sat there in the darkness, and she cried.
Because she knew what that was.
She knew it was goodbye.
And she knew there was nothing she could do about it.
“You understand what has to happen next. For the good of the community. Right?”
Harriet lifted her head. Looked at Owen through her tear-filled eyes. She’d almost forgotten he was even here. “Nothing has to happen next, Owen. You don’t have to do this. There can still be another way.”
Owen chewed at his nails. Spat one out onto the dirty, hard floor.
And then he stood up.
Put a hand on Harriet’s aching shoulder.
“There has to be a show of strength. To keep the people of Lancaster in order. Because if we don’t make them fearful... nothing will stop them from mutiny.”
He moved his hand up her neck. His cold fingers on her goose-pimpled skin. Then he touched her hair, grabbed a few strands between his fingers.
“We’ll look after him. Don’t worry. We’re not savages.”
And then he stepped away. Walked away from her. Leaving her free of her gag. Free of her blindfold.
He stopped when he reached the door. Didn’t turn around to her. “Just one thing.”
He looked back, then.
“Don’t make a fuss. Don’t scream. You don’t want to scare your boy, do you?”
She felt a knot in her stomach. A sickness take hold.
And then he turned around. Opened the door. Stepped outside.
She looked out into that darkness. Felt the breeze against her swollen, bruised face.
“Don’t let him down. Whatever you do. Don’t let him down. Please.”
Owen looked back at her.
For a moment, she swore she saw a smile to his face.
“Goodnight, Harriet. See you in the morning. We’ve got a long day ahead.”
He stepped out into the dark.
Then he slammed that door shut.
Darkness surrounded Harriet.
She was alone.
But she had something.
Something nobody knew she had.
She turned the knife around in her hands—the one that Oscar handed her when he hugged her, the one she’d given to him to protect himself—and she smiled.
She wasn’t lying down.
She wasn’t rolling over.
She was getting out of here.
And nothing was stopping her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
When Martin saw the sign for Lancaster, every muscle in his body turned to stone.
It was pitch black. Him, Ella, and Bruce had been walking through the night. They’d passed a few people on their way down here. A few groups in tents. A few in suburbs. Everyone struggling in their own ways.
But Martin got the feeling that the bulk of people who were still alive were probably a part of larger groups now.
Ones like the community in Lancaster.
He felt exhausted. Not tired. Exhausted. These last few days had totally weighed down on him. These last few hours in particular had thrown everything he thought he believed up in the air.
But he couldn’t dwell on what had happened.
He could only focus on his goal.
Find Harriet and Oscar.
Save them.
And then they could all focus on finding somewhere new. Together.
He saw the buildings of Lancaster up ahead. Saw some high-rise flats. A couple of lights on in there. Looked like candlelight. He saw a few burned-out buildings, too. Fires that’d spiralled out of control. He saw more cars stacked up. The remains of a helicopter, broken and battered by the side of the road.
And every instinct in his body screamed at him that this was the wrong move. This was the wrong thing to do.
It was reckless.
It was dangerous.
“You okay?”
Martin looked around at Ella. Saw her standing there in the moonlight. Smiling at him like she was trying to reassure him.
Martin nodded. “I will be. When we get this done with.”
“And what’s actually the plan again?”
Martin rubbed the back of his neck. “We approach Lancaster. We make it clear who we’re there for. What we want. If I have to fight... I have to fight. But hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
“If you have to fight?”
He stepped up to Ella. Something had been bothering him about this for a while. “Ella, I need you to listen very carefully to me. You can’t... you can’t come with me. Not for this part of the journey. It’s just too dangerous.”
Ella’s face dropped. Her smile flattened. “I thought you might say that.”
“I can’t risk losing you. I can’t... I can’t go walking in there and putting you in danger. Because if anything happened to you, it would kill me. I can’t let that happen.”
Ella shook her head. “You’ve learned nothing, have you?”
“Ella—”
“I’m here ’cause I want to be here. I could’ve... I could’ve walked off to another of these groups. I could’ve gone on a merry journey to find Grandma. But I haven’t. I’m here ’cause I want to be here. I want to help. And I can help. You’ve seen it already.”
Martin looked at the road. Shook his head. “Ella, this isn’t a game. This is—”
“I can help you,” she said. “I want you to look out for me. I want you to protect me. But I... I want you to let me live, too. I want you to let me survive.”
He looked up at her, then. And as much as he wanted to fight, as much as he wanted to resist... he couldn’t.
Because again. She was right.
“You’re not gonna back down. Are you?”
Ella smirked. “You’ll have to tie me to a tree to stop me coming with you.”
“That dental floss has to come in handy at some stage, right?”
She smiled. He smiled back at her. But there was sadness to this, as they stood at the brink of the town. As the community loomed in the distance. As whatever was out there waited to greet them in all its glory.
“We’re going to be okay,” Ella said. “We’re going to do this. We’re going to get Harriet and Oscar, and we’re going to survive this. Then we’re going to find a new home. All of us. Okay?”
Martin took a deep breath, and he nodded. “Okay.”
He went to step away.
But then something else happened.
Ella. She reached out. Wrapped her arms around him. Hugged him, tight.