‘How do you work that out?’ asks Kerry through gritted teeth as he jiggles, making it impossible for her to tie off the bandages.
‘Well we’re not exactly prepared for hibernation if it gets bad, are we?’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Can you keep still?’
‘Even if it is fine, it’s going to be so boring.’
‘I see your priorities are in order. I said still, Pres, please!’
Pushing roughly down on Preston’s good shoulder, Kerry finally persuades him to keep still long enough to finish off his makeshift bandage. Satisfied, Preston gets up and pulls a t shirt over his head as Gabriel returns inside, crouching bizarrely.
‘What...?’ begins Kerry, but Gabriel shakes his head and jerks it towards the door.
Frowning, Kerry strides outside, immediately spotting Beth, who’s watching cars come to a halt on the road in the distance. She comes to a stop beside her and watches, her heart leaping into her mouth, as she realises the cars’ occupants are exiting the vehicles and heading down the field towards the barn.
Beth and Kerry exchange wary looks. There are at least a dozen people ploughing through the grass towards them, and to their dismay they see that every last person is holding a firearm. Despairing, Kerry wishes she’d grabbed her own gun before coming outside to investigate. Beth places a reassuring hand on her shoulder as the intruders slow to a stop a metre away from them, spreading out into a line that reminds Kerry painfully of a police human barrier.
‘Good morning,’ says Kerry pleasantly, eyeing them each in turn.
‘Ladies,’ says the middle man in greeting, bowing a patchy dark grey head. His gun hangs casually from his hand, dangling by his leg. A couple of people in the line, however, point their weapons mistrustfully at Kerry and Beth in turn. ‘I wonder if you can help us.’
‘The barn is occupied,’ says Beth gruffly, crossing her arms, earning herself several steely glares and a couple more pointed weapons.
‘What is it you need?’ asks Kerry gently, holding up her hands unthreateningly.
‘I wonder if we can come inside,’ says the grey-haired man, whose skin seems to sink in and out of the hollows in his skull as he speaks. ‘Just to chat,’ he adds hastily as Beth scowls menacingly.
‘I’m afraid we can’t let you do that,’ replies Kerry quickly. ‘I’m sure you understand.’
‘Of course,’ says the man with a gracious nod. ‘In fact, we completely understand your need to protect your possessions and your people – ours were compromised a few days ago you see. I’m just wondering, is there anyone else inside the barn?’
‘No,’ Beth and Kerry chorus instantly.
The man raises an eyebrow. ‘Very well... Have you by any chance seen a man and a boy? The man in his late twenties, dark hair, tall... The boy very young, with dark skin and blue eyes...?’
‘No,’ say Beth and Kerry again.
‘Are they friends of yours?’ Kerry asks, attempting to keep her voice level.
‘Not at all,’ replies the man soberly as one of his comrades spits maliciously on the floor. ‘In fact, these two gentlemen came through our territory a few days ago, stole from us and killed several of our people.’
‘I... am very sorry,’ says Kerry.
‘But we haven’t seen those people,’ says Beth loudly.
‘In any case,’ says the man, palpably straining to look through the solitary window behind them. ‘I’d advise you to be vigilant. I hope not only for your sakes that you don’t run into these people, but for ours too. We really would rather we were the ones to kill them.’
‘N-naturally,’ Kerry stammers. ‘Uh, thank you.’
‘Yeah, we’ll look out for them,’ growls Beth.
‘No worries,’ says the man, nodding to his comrades, most of whom stalk off, glancing about them with their guns raised. Two, however, remain with him, facing Kerry. ‘In the meantime I don’t feel comfortable leaving you girls unprotected. I can leave two of my friends here to-’
‘No,’ chorus Kerry and Beth in clashing pitches, Beth’s a growl and Kerry’s a shriek.
‘Uh,’ says Kerry, her heart pattering heavier as she spoke, ‘we appreciate the offer, really, but we... Um, we don’t really feel comfortable... You know...’
‘We’re all very trustworthy people, I assure you.’
‘That may be the case,’ says Kerry gently, ‘but we don’t know you. We’re not prepared to accommodate two men we don’t know.’
‘We can guard the barn from outside,’ another man suggests.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Kerry insists. ‘Honestly, we haven’t seen anyone and we’re very well protected. I’m sure if these, uh, people were nearby we’d have spotted them by now. My guess is they’re long gone, mate.’
‘I see,’ says the middle man. ‘Well, suit yourselves. We’ll be looking around the area. If you see anyone fitting the descriptions I gave you, we’d be very grateful if you let us know.’
‘Of course,’ says Kerry weakly.
‘Take care.’
Silently they watch as the three remaining men trudge away, craning their necks to peer into the barn as they pass. Kerry waves as one throws a look over his shoulder, and Beth scowls after them. They watch until the men can no longer be seen, and then Beth rounds on Kerry.
‘Now what do we do?’
Over the course of the next two weeks, Kerry, Beth and Gabriel find themselves slowly going stir crazy. Being unwilling to leave Gabriel protected by any less than three people, Beth insists on Preston going out on any endeavours alone, and so they find themselves getting to know their new Sanctuary very well.
In the car, for instance, they discover a couple of mouldy blankets, which Ratbag takes an immediate liking to and spends most of his time lounging on. They also discover a leak in the roof, almost exactly in the centre of the barn, and that the window occasionally squeaks when the wind is particularly violent.
Somewhere in the middle of these days, Preston brings home a jigsaw puzzle with his other finds, much to the relief of Beth and Kerry, who are now halfway through it. Gabriel, however, spends much of his time reading or following the cat around when Ratbag decides to go exploring, warned every time by his mother not to stray too far.
Each day Preston has managed to bring something back, the current favourite of which is a small inflatable kids’ pool, which they’ve been using as a bath. He also manages to acquire winter coats, paper, coloured pens, string, and, of course, tins. When asked where he manages to find all this stuff, particularly the paddling pool, Preston raises his eyebrows knowingly and says nothing.
‘I think he swallowed a sat-nav,’ says Kerry one afternoon as she sweeps with the broom Preston brought back the previous night. ‘That’s how he always knows where to go.’
‘Like a digital map,’ Beth explains helpfully before Gabriel can ask what a sat-nav is.
Gabriel grunts and carries on reading, neglecting to even look up. Since his imprisonment he always seems to be in a bad mood, longing for the wind in his hair and a change of scenery. But every time a car passes in the distance Beth stiffens, alert, still waiting for strange men to come and take a pop at her son, so still he stays, silently fuming.
Again Kerry is plagued with worry when the sun begins its fast descent every afternoon, and again she finds herself surprised by this worry. Half the time Preston returns to the barn covered in blood or grime, having fought off either Ailing or people, he doesn’t always say. Every day Kerry is certain is the day Preston will not come back, having finally met his match. As the shadows outside begin to stretch, Kerry slips outside and scans the horizon, the perimeter they set up a few days ago invisible to her in the tall grass. Another miracle, she muses, is that Preston hasn’t broken his neck tripping over the thing, but he seems to know exactly where it is.
Though she won’t admit it, Kerry feels Gabriel’s frustration at having to remain indoors all the time. However reassuring, their new home holds far less
appeal when they’re not allowed to leave it, even for unpleasant endeavours involving accidental run-ins with enemies. Freedom has always been the one true advantage of being an Outlander.
Darkness reaches them today before Preston, and after hours of waiting they’re forced to start dinner without him. Uneasy, Kerry can barely taste her Irish stew as she glances out the window into the pitch black. Beth, too, looks anxious, and she hasn’t even touched her vegetarian ravioli; in fact she looked nauseated the minute she opened the can. When Gabriel has finished his sweet corn he reaches greedily for Beth’s ravioli, which she doesn’t even notice is gone.
Rain patters tentatively on the roof when Preston finally returns, immediately dropping his bike on arrival and staggering to the ground. Beth is first to leap to her feet and hurry over to him, and Kerry is not far behind.
‘Bloody hell,’ groans Preston, rolling onto his back. He is spattered with blood.
‘What happened?’ whispers Beth, kneeling and pushing his matted hair from his eyes. Kerry shoots her a strange look that she ignores. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Ran into... ugh...’ mutters Preston. He leans over to spit on the ground. ‘Some of those idiots found me, so I fought them off... headed North... misled them, you know. But the bastards managed to poke a few holes in me before I lost them.’
‘Why didn’t you kill them?’ says Gabriel dispassionately from the paddock, his nose still buried in his book.
‘Too many,’ spits Preston, shooting Gabriel a filthy look, ‘but don’t worry, a few of them are dead. You know me; I can never resist sinking a few... ah... bullets.’
As Beth props a folded jacket under Preston’s head and inspects his wounds, Kerry approaches the fallen bike. The trailer is full of tins and another gallon of water; a happy happenstance if, once again, the Four are housebound for a while. She sighs and begins unpacking as Gabriel gets up and trudges over to Beth and Preston.
‘You know what this means,’ he says nastily. ‘We’re all grounded now.’
A Birthday Surprise
Preston’s injuries amount to countless bruises, a bullet wound in his leg, a gash in his arm and a rather angry cut on his face, all of which he once again recovers fast from. Beth finds herself watching him now and then, worried his shoulder may have ruptured or haemorrhaged or that something would grow infected like it had with Andrea all those weeks ago. But, as Preston’s luck would have it, he’s testing his leg within days, anxious to get back outside.
‘We still need timber to reinforce the walls,’ he reasons, ‘and I know from me it isn’t saying much but I would kill to sleep on a mattress.’
‘No,’ says Beth gently as she examines his leg and wipes it gently with a wet cloth. ‘I think you’ve had enough adventure to last you. Kerry has counted the cans and we think we can last until after Gabriel’s birthday. After that we can discuss our options.’
‘What do you mean by options?’
‘Well those scavengers are obviously still sniffing around,’ she says, ‘so perhaps we ought to think about moving again. Either way I don’t think hibernation will be an option this winter. We’ll have to make plans.’
‘We’re not moving,’ he snaps. ‘Even if they come back, we’re not going anywhere.’
‘I think you seem to be forgetting-’
‘I’m not forgetting anything, Bethany. I’m not suggesting we all die in a blaze of glory, even though that would be very cool. For now, while you insist on keeping us all prisoner, we’re going to set traps for our good friends across the way. As for Gabriel’s upcoming birthday, I think you should at least consider taking him for a walk. The poor kid’s going to turn white if he stays inside much longer.’
So in the days leading up to the fourteenth of December, the Four have a surprising amount of fun coming up with traps and tripwires for their enemies, who they occasionally still glimpse now and then, scouring the area for Preston, whose diversion obviously didn’t distract them for long. While Gabriel and Kerry siphon petrol from the car to make explosives, Preston sits in his corner, still unable to walk, ripping tin cans into brutal shards. Beth goes about setting up the traps, leaving their makeshift bombs within shooting range and planting the metal shards in random places in the ground.
Despite these measures, however, Beth’s anxiety only increases, especially on the days when the scouts show themselves. Not only do they appear, but Beth is sure they take extra time around the barn, convinced they know that she and Kerry are harbouring the fugitives. In these moments Beth finds herself glancing to the wall against which her rifle leans, her fingers flexing. If only she could just kill them and be done with it. If only they didn’t have a whole army of angry scavengers behind them, thirsty for revenge.
The cat, too, seems to share Beth’s discomfort. One afternoon he returns to the barn after hunting mice, limping dramatically, having trodden on one of their many handmade spikes in his rush to pursue his prey. After that Ratbag is less adventurous, choosing only to follow one of the girls around if and when she chooses to wander outside.
‘It’s only temporary,’ Beth reminds the cat as he follows her across the field to place even more traps, shooting her a look of utter contempt as she savagely stabs shards into the ground.
But as she says this, she realises she’s not sure she means it. Can they live out the rest of their lives, now, close to a place filled with dozens of people who suspect them? Can they ever remove the amateur traps in complete confidence? And will Beth ever feel secure in her son’s safety again? It’s been eight years since she, Gabriel and Desmond had been a family, and eight years since all she had to worry about was Gabriel’s runny nose. But even then, when post-natal depression plagued her and she was sure her baby was going to die at her clumsy hands, she never took her baby’s safety for granted. Worrying, she supposes, is part of parenthood. The thought offers little comfort, a small raindrop against the raging fire that is her sense of dread.
Sighing, Beth scoops up the grumpy cat and makes for the barn, which is a great grey blur in her short-sightedness. She opts for looking down as she walks; the grass is sharp and clear before her, and the cat’s tail swishes like a pendulum as she trudges along. Granted, her vision wasn’t much different when she still had her glasses, but she still misses them. She feels like she’s missing a part of her face, like someone has chopped her nose off. Her dark red beanie hat, her prized possession come cold weather, helps somewhat, but she misses the weight of plastic arms resting on top of her ears.
Inside, the others have given up working on traps and Kerry is teaching Gabriel the Macarena. Preston naps in the paddock, a slight frown creasing his forehead, his hands pressed together under his cheek. Beth takes extra time putting the cat down – allowing herself a little longer to casually admire Preston’s sleeping form – before she turns to Kerry and Gabriel, who are giggling amongst themselves.
‘I don’t think you know the words,’ laughs Gabriel, pulling himself up to sit on the car bonnet.
‘The song’s in a foreign language,’ chuckles Kerry, ‘of course I don’t know them!’
‘Actually I think at least half of it is in English,’ Beth pipes up.
‘Oh,’ says Kerry, looking sheepish. Gabriel laughs again.
‘I think we’d be crossing the line if we placed any more traps,’ Beth announces, sitting on the car beside Gabriel, who scoots to accommodate her. ‘If we place any more shards we might all end up with bleeding feet.’
‘Good,’ says Kerry. ‘All Preston’s done is moan about the cuts on his hands.’
‘I just hope they’re enough,’ murmurs Beth.
For some reason her eyes suddenly fill with tears, and she glances away from the others, who continue on to discuss what would happen if someone maimed themselves on their traps. She fights the sudden rush of water threatening to spill from her eyes, only letting one fall before she swipes it angrily away, disguising the act as scratching an itch.
‘I think we need to just ho
pe no one comes near us,’ Kerry concludes. ‘The other outcomes don’t really bear thinking about.’
‘I just think it’s about time we started planning for certain scenarios,’ says Gabriel with a shrug. ‘We can’t place all these precautions around and not have a follow-up plan.’
‘What do you think?’ Kerry asks Beth.
‘Is it dinner time, do you think?’ says Beth absently, hopping off the bonnet.
‘Um,’ says Kerry, sharing a look with Gabriel.
‘What shall we have? I reckon I’m in the mood for macaroni, if there’s any left.’
‘It’s not even dark yet,’ Gabriel points out.
‘Well, I’m hungry,’ snaps Beth, a little more harshly than she intends.
‘Are you all right, Mum?’ Gabriel asks warily.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Kerry and Gabriel glance at each other awkwardly. ‘You just seem a bit...’
‘What? Spit it out, why don’t you.’
‘Crazy,’ says Gabriel before he can stop himself. Kerry winces as the look Beth bestows upon them.
‘Crazy,’ Beth repeats venomously.
‘I mean,’ he says hastily, ‘you’re intent on keeping yourself occupied at all times, maybe in the hopes that we don’t notice you’re crying non-stop. You shouted at the cat the other day when he went near the door without you. In the middle of the night I wake up and you’re so close to me I can’t breathe.’
‘Not to mention,’ adds Kerry, having the good grace to look guilty as Beth glowers her way, ‘the way you act around Preston.’
‘And how do I act around Preston?’
‘Well...’ Kerry casts a glance around, as if trying to find the words. ‘There were times in the past when Preston had something on his mind, something bothering him, and he’d sit there frowning at David because David hadn’t read his mind and asked what was wrong. That’s how you’ve been looking at Preston, like you’re mad at him for not reading you.’
‘I see,’ says Beth levelly, and for a moment all is quiet.
After The End (Book 1): The Furious Four Page 24