Grayson Ryder: A Thief's Thrill

by M. L. Giles

  Obviously that was a lie to make myself look good! In truth, I was just being nosy.

  Funny thing is, the first time we were introduced to The Pack, we spotted two familiar faces – the elderly gentleman who had tried to attack me with a fork, and Bethany herself.

  Colton was beyond happy to see Bethany again. The weight of all the death back at the hotel had weighed heavily upon his consciousness for so long. Seeing her alive seemed to alleviate that weight.

  Bethany and fork-man regaled everyone in The Pack with the grand tale of how a noble leader had given himself up to try and save his people from the wrath of a mad fire king. And of a hero that had rushed headlong into hell to save the noble leader from certain death.

  Although the story of us was a tad exaggerated, I wasn’t complaining! They made me sound like some sort of badass ninja. This really helped establish myself within their ranks.

  Our first night with The Pack was spent sitting around a large bonfire, filling Bethany and fork-man in on the missing parts to their story. However, I must confess, that night I lied to Bethany about Carl. Telling her that it was me who had ended his life didn’t feel right, even if it was done for the right reasons.

  “Morning, Muscles. You and Ryder weren’t at the gathering this morning,” Samson said once Colton had opened the door for him. “Everything good?”

  “Trouble sleepin’ last night,” Colton explained. “We miss anythin’ important?”

  “Just went over the details for our move tomorrow, nothing vital. Were you and Ryder still going on that outing today?”

  “Balls! Almost forgot about that,” I thought while slipping out of bed to get my usual black tracksuit bottoms on.

  “That’s the plan. Gray is positive we’re near the place. Why? Needed us for somethin’ today?” Colton asked.

  “Not today. Remember, though, don’t let yourself be followed back here and return before sundown. Be a shame if you two got left behind when we move camp tomorrow morning.”

  It was highly unlikely Samson would abandon us, given how valuable we were to him now. He saw Colton and I as an unstoppable duo – myself being the daring, cunning, handsome, experienced thief, capable of infiltrating the toughest of places using masterful skills gained through years of experience. And Colton could hit things really hard.

  “We’ll be back, Samson, don’t you worry ‘bout that,” Colton reassured him.

  The two exchanged a few more words before Colton closed the door and returned to our bedroom in the campervan. “Hear all that?”

  I stood up in my tracksuit bottoms, stretching tiredly. “Yup. Be back before the sun goes down so we can pack up for tomorrow morning. The usual crap.”

  “You ain’t soundin’ too happy there, Gray.” Colton walked around the bed to stand in front of me. “Anythin’ on your mind?”

  I sighed. “No… Yes. I like this group, I really do, but we can’t keep moving from place to place like this. It’s getting harder to find food that hasn’t gone off already, even in the unexplored towns. We need to settle down and start growing our own food.”

  “Live off the land? Like we tried to do at the hotel?”

  My heart sank momentarily when I remembered the hotel.

  “Er, exactly. You had something good at that place, why not try to replicate it?”

  Colton rubbed his stubbly butt-chin. “Hmm. Lootin’ new towns was a good idea at first, but it might be time to settle, yeah. Wanna mention this to Sam?”

  “Not today. Let’s focus on our trip first.”

  I bent down to grab my shirt from off the floor, only to see Colton’s boxers fall down his hairy legs.

  “Ah, shoot. Mind helpin’ me with that, darlin’?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at how obvious Colton was being about this. “Which one is it you want help with, hmm? Pulling your boxers back up? Or the boner I will inevitably see when I look up?”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  One might think that being together for a year now would’ve cooled the carnal desires between Colton and me. Thankfully, no.

  In truth, we have a bad reputation within The Pack for our sexual antics.

  There have been a few times during The Pack’s usual meetings (or gatherings, as they call them) where they’ve had put up with mine and Colton’s caravan squeaking away nearby whilst trying to listen to Samson talk.

  My personal favourite is when we sit in the back of a car being driven by someone else, because it means I get to play a fun game called Danger Wank. I will sneakily put my hand down Colton’s trousers and try to give him an intense handjob without the others in the car noticing. Thing is, Colton is not known for having quiet orgasms, so seeing him try not to cry out is absolutely hilarious.

  He gets a release, I get a good laugh. It’s a win-win situation.

  Don’t get me wrong, though, it’s not all about sex. Romance is very much alive within our relationship.

  Nights out under the stars, cuddles, holding hands, little kisses, scavenger hunting gifts for each other… In the past, these sappy activities would have made me say, “Let’s cut to the chase and get down to it already!”, but that doesn’t happen with Colton. With him, everything I do feels right.

  I love him to bits… I’d be lost without him.

  Ugh! Moving swiftly on before I blush myself to death.

  “TURN RIGHT!” I shouted to Colton from behind him.

  The roaring engine of his silver Harley Davidson we rode made it hard to communicate the directions needed to reach our destination. I had wanted to drive us here myself using one of the spare cars The Pack has on standby, but Colton insisted we took his bike.

  Heaven forbid we shouldn’t use his new favourite toy at every bloody opportunity…

  “WHAT?! RIGHT?!” Colton shouted back to me just before the final street turning came into view.

  “Goddammit… YES!” I yelled, getting annoyed at how loud this Harley was.

  Maybe it’s just me, but using a bike louder than Colton’s snoring seemed, hmm… What’s that word I’m looking for? Oh, yes: un-fucking-subtle!

  Colton turned the bike right, driving us down a street I knew all too well. As we passed each house on this road, I recalled the names and faces of the people who used to live there.

  “Fifty-five! Up ahead on the left!” I shouted.

  Colton turned his head slightly to look back at me. “HUH?!”

  “For the love of— FIFTY-FIVE! BIT FARTHER AHEAD! ON THE LEFT!” I released one arm from around his waist to point out the house I was talking about.

  We pulled up on the pavement right outside my former home. This was the first time I had visited here since that terrible night two years ago. My initial reaction to seeing the place was to try and identify Gloria’s skeleton – an impossible feat, given how scattered any bones were now.

  Colton cut the engine, bringing a welcome silence. “This the one?”

  “Yeah. This is the right one.”

  I got off the Harley, keeping my sights firmly on what used to be my home. It was exactly as I remembered it, apart from the usual damage that came from years without maintenance.

  “This where you lived before the outbreak?” Colton asked.

  “Mhm.”

  “Looks like a bit of a shithole round here. No offence, Gray.”

  I laughed at how true his statement was. “That’s council properties for you. Gloria couldn’t afford much better than this on her salary. It was only after moving in that she realized how bad this area was. Drunks, druggies, loud music, moochers, and so on.”

  Colton stepped off his bike, taking his place beside me. We both stood at the broken gate which led up to my old home.

  “Want me to come in too?” he asked.

  This was something personal that I wanted to do alone. “Actually, I’d prefer to go solo. You mind waiting here for me?”

  “Do what you gotta do. And take as long as you need, darlin’,” he said, going back to his Harley to t
inker with it.

  The interior of my old home had been destroyed. The large living room window that was broken during the outbreak had left the inside exposed to the elements. Mould had grown over the walls, furniture, and carpets, leaving whatever was underneath practically unrecognizable. What’s more, it must’ve rained here in the last day or two, given how the floor was soaking wet.

  I went upstairs, hoping it had fared better.

  Upon reaching the landing, I saw the spot where Gloria had pinned me down and scratched at my chest. It was a painful memory, one that I pushed out my mind as I continued on.

  The door to my bedroom was already open. I walked in slowly, examining the place carefully for potential intruders. Although my room hadn’t suffered too badly at the hands of the elements, the place did seem disturbed. My bed had been stripped bare, drawers all opened, my clothes were scattered all over the floor – someone had looted my old room, probably another survivor searching for supplies.

  On the journey here, I knew there was a chance this place could’ve been ransacked. Even so, I had hoped to be wrong.

  I walked over to my storage trunk at the bottom of the bed, lifting the lid up to search inside. Like the rest of the place this, too, had been searched through.

  “Please let it still be here,” I thought.

  Luckily, what I had come all this way for was still in the trunk. After shifting my old things around some, I found the family photo album. Inside were old pictures of me, my sister, former friends, and my parents.

  One picture in particular was what I had come here for.

  About halfway through the leather-bound photo album, I came across what I had wanted for so long. A very special photo was preserved behind a thin layer of plastic. It was the last, and most recent, picture of me and my sister together. We had gone to a nightclub for her birthday, my treat. She had puckered her lips up for the camera, whereas I had gone for the ever-classic tongue sticking out. Our arms were around each other’s shoulders, proudly showing our sibling unity.

  I slid the picture out of its protective cover, turning it over gently to see the back. It was white, apart from a small message written by my drunken sister the night we had stumbled back home.

  It read, “Thanks for the memories, little brother! Lots of love, Gloria.”

  I turned the picture back over to look at it some more, taking a seat on the edge of my stripped bed. In my hand sat the most recent picture of my sister, taken only a month before she died.

  “…Hey, sis,” I said to the picture, as if it were a one-way radio to her. “Sorry it took me so long to come home. You wouldn’t believe everything that’s happened! Or perhaps you would? Maybe you have seen it all? I sure hope so. I’d like to think you were watching me the whole time, mocking me when I did something wrong or shouting words of encouragement when I felt down – just like you did in my dreams that night I almost gave up. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you… I miss you.”

  A tear fell down, landing on the photo.

  An hour is how long I spent in my home, debating on if I should take anything with me or leave it behind. After all, the chances were I’d never see this place again. In the end, though, I only took the picture with me.

  Colton heard me approaching from behind and stopped polishing up his Harley.

  “How’d it go, Gray? Got what you needed?” he asked.

  I nodded, handing him the picture to see. “Yeah. This is what we came for.”

  He examined it for a moment before commenting. “That’s the famous Gloria? Wow, she’s quite the looker.”

  “…Did you just say my sister was sexy?”

  Colton let out a light-hearted chuckle, handing me back the photo. “Awww, come on, darlin’. This man only has eyes for one person, an’ that’s you.”

  I took the picture back, tucking it into the inner pocket of my jacket. “Smooth recovery, there. That picture was taken on her birthday. She wanted to celebrate but didn’t have much money that week, so I—”

  “Lemme guess,” Colton interrupted. “You went out an’ ‘borrowed’ some from other folk to pay for it?”

  “Oh, my dear Colton,” I said, grinning at him, “you know me all too well.”

  “That I do. Ready to head home? Or do you need somethin’ else from here?”

  The sun hung low in the sky, signalling that we needed to get back soon. My only reason for coming back was to retrieve that picture of me and my sister together.

  I turned around to look at my home, internally saying goodbye to my past, then turned back to Colton. “Yeah, let’s head home, big guy.”

  Colton mounted the bike first, then I got on behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist tightly, not just to hold on as we pulled away, but to also give him a hug in thanks for coming here with me. He must’ve known what it was for because he placed a hand on my arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

  We did a U-turn in the street, driving off back the way we had come from. As we passed my old home one final time, for the briefest of moments, I thought I saw my sister looking down at me from her bedroom window – an insane thought, of course.

  Although, you’d have to be crazy not to be somewhat insane in this world.

  Thank you for reading!

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