by Ryan Casey
“I’m starting to entertain the idea that there’s more than one threat out there. So we have to be careful, especially if we’re leaving this place. We have to watch our backs. At all times.”
“Sounds like the same thing we’ve been doing for weeks already.”
Hazel looked back at the farm, then.
“I’ll miss this place.”
Jack frowned. “It’s not forever.”
“It might not be. But we have to be prepared for anything. We have to accept the possibility that this might be the last time. Always.”
Jack didn’t want to agree with Hazel, but in the end he could only nod. “We’re going to be okay. This is going to work.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
His mouth dried in an instant. He cleared his throat. “It’s going to work.”
She did something unexpected, then.
Something she hadn’t done since they’d reunited.
She reached over to Jack and she hugged him.
“I can’t forgive you for the past,” she said. “But I can thank you for the present. And I can hope you’re making the right decisions. For the future. I have to believe it.”
He put his hands on her back, reluctantly. Held her close. Felt the warmth of past memories spinning around his head. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it could work out. We’re doing the right thing. It’s going to work out. Okay?”
Hazel looked into his eyes.
Then she kissed his cheek.
“I hope you’re right.”
She walked back into the farm.
Jack stood there, looked at this farmhouse. The time they’d spent here. The hope that they weren’t saying goodbye forever.
And the hope that as soon as they dealt with Logan, things could be good again.
He took a deep breath.
And then he looked back at the fields.
It was time to get started.
Chapter Eighteen
Jack lay flat at the top of the hill, rifle in hand.
The morning was growing nicer. It was a bright day, a clear day, which meant visibility was strong for a long distance. That worked in his favour. But hopefully it didn’t work against him too. Hopefully it didn’t expose him and his people.
Any small problem could spell disaster.
Everything was silent apart from the birds singing jovially around him. His people were sheltered by the long grass, which they were supposed to be tending to before all this mess started. He felt the hard ground digging into his chest, which was bonier now that it used to be. He could smell the freshness of the grass, and taste it. Tension cut through the air. It felt like the whole world was waiting, bracing itself for that decisive moment.
A moment that could be imminent.
But on Jack waited.
He looked to his side. Hazel was there. Wayne was there. Bella was there. Villain and Mrs Fuzzles were there. None of them looked totally convinced, totally certain, that this was the right course of action. Not even he was fully confident.
But they’d followed him out of that farm. They’d accepted it was their only real choice, and that there was nothing else they could really do.
Jack had got them into this mess. There was only one way of getting out of it.
They waited on. But the longer they waited, the more the fatigue and irritability set in. The more the tension grew. The more concentration waned.
And the more the doubts about being away from home built.
“What if they don’t come?” Wayne asked.
It was something Jack had thought about. And it left him with mixed emotions. Because on the one hand, if Logan’s group stayed away, that was good news.
But on the other hand… there would always be that silent threat out there. That knowledge that a man who wanted not only his home—but revenge—was lurking in the shadows.
And then there was the problem of Wayne and Candice.
Their separation would bring problems of its own. Because Jack wasn’t sure Wayne would be willing to let her go, not now they were so close to reunion.
No. A quick resolution would be best—as messy and as violent as it might be.
“They’ll come,” Jack said.
“And if they don’t?” Hazel interjected.
Jack looked at her. Saw her studying him, waiting for his response.
“They will,” he said.
He turned again. Faced the farm. Thirst kicked in. Hunger kicked in. The sun moved over their heads in slow motion. He knew this was risky. There was a good chance Logan wouldn’t be here today, which was why he’d made sure to bring enough supplies to last a couple of days.
The wait wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t going to be comfortable. It was going to be testing.
But they were going to do this.
They were going to win this.
It was all going to be worth it.
“If Candice turns up, maybe I can get to her,” Wayne said.
Jack gritted his teeth. “We have a plan—”
“And you’re sure? You’re sure we can do this without harming her?”
“I told you. That’s the plan.”
“But what if Logan turns on her? What if he uses her as leverage?”
Jack shook his head. “Now’s not the time to start questioning the plan. We’ve had our chance to question things. Now’s not it.”
“I thought now would be exactly the time to question it.”
“Wayne.”
It was Bella who spoke.
She looked right at him.
Reached for his hand.
“Your dad made a promise. We’re going to do what we can to get Candice back without harming her. We’re going to do whatever we can. We have to believe that. Okay? We have to believe this is going to work. We just have to be patient. We just have to wait.”
Wayne’s mouth opened. He looked braced to counter Jack once more.
Then he just closed his mouth and shook his head. “Things better work out,” he said. “Because if they don’t… there’s going to be problems.”
Jack didn’t like the way Wayne looked at him when he said those words. He was fast realising just how little Wayne was going to be willing to settle.
All because of Candice.
In a sinister kind of way, Jack wondered if it would be better if Candice were the one who fell in the crossfire after all. It was an awful thought that he shoved away almost immediately. He didn’t really believe that. He was guilty enough about Jean.
But it was a reminder that there really was no good or bad.
Everyone is someone else’s villain.
They turned their attentions back to the farm. Ate a little. Drank a little. The afternoon segued into evening. The sky reddened, night approaching. Jack’s eyes started drooping. Patience wore thin as he shuffled from side to side, sighs and yawns picking up.
And then he heard the voice.
“There.”
It was Bella who spoke.
She was pointing off into the distance, over to the right of the farm.
Jack frowned. He looked through his binoculars, his hands shaky, not totally prepared. “I don’t see anyone.”
“There. See.”
He squinted through the binoculars.
Adrenaline kicked in, and his heart started racing.
He half-expected to see someone else. Another group.
But then he saw them.
He saw them, and the feelings hit him like a tidal wave.
There were three of them.
They were walking towards the farmhouse.
Logan leading the way. Taking a few steps. Rifle in hand.
He signalled to the girls behind him to progress.
Jack lowered the binoculars calmly, methodically.
He turned to Wayne, to Hazel, to Bella.
“They’re here,” he said.
He picked up his rifle.
Turned back towards the farm, watched those figure
s edge closer.
And he waited.
Chapter Nineteen
Logan walked towards the farm, rifle in hand, and braced himself for whatever was ahead.
The evening sun was intense. The air was still. He could smell manure, and heard the cows and sheep making noises. Everywhere seemed so quiet, so still. Too quiet. Too still.
He’d been watching the farm for a while now, ever since this afternoon. Weirdly, he hadn’t seen any activity. He could only assume it was because they were plotting away, planning their next step.
He just had to hope he was one step ahead of them.
That he was the one who was acting first.
He looked over his shoulder, saw Candice and Emma behind him. Every now and then, he gave them a nod, a signal for them to keep moving.
But he didn’t like this. He didn’t trust it. Something just didn’t feel right.
He held his rifle and thought about what he’d do if he saw Jack. As much as he convinced Candice that he was going to hold back… he couldn’t make any promises.
Because he knew what kind of a guy Jack was. He’d seen how trigger-happy he had been.
Logan had to be the one who took the initiative.
He was the one who had to make the push.
“Something doesn’t feel right.”
They were Candice’s words. Logan didn’t want to acknowledge them, didn’t want to hear them.
But he’d thought the exact same thing himself.
He was worried.
Not only because of how off everything felt. But because they hadn’t seen a trace of anyone since they’d got here this afternoon.
He had to hope he wasn’t walking right into a trap.
He scanned his surroundings. Looked at the fields. Looked at the trees. All so quiet. All so… still.
“We keep moving,” he said, tightening his grip on his hunting rifle. “Remember my signal.”
“What if they’re waiting for us?”
Logan’s mouth dried out. “They will be. One way or another, they will be. We just have to hope we’ve got the advantage on them. The grass should be long enough to keep us under cover.”
The further Logan walked, the more uncertain about this whole venture he got. He felt in the open. He felt exposed.
But they were too far in now to turn back.
He knew what he had to be prepared to do.
They got closer to the farmhouse. He couldn’t believe how close they were now. They were within touching distance.
And still he couldn’t see anyone.
Still he couldn’t see anything.
What was happening?
Where were they?
He turned around again to Candice and Emma. Nodded. Saw them moving closer towards him. His heart raced. Every footstep felt like a step closer to the goal.
He pictured the future unfolding. Opening those farm doors and turning the rifle on whoever stood there. The man, Jack. The girl, Bella. The woman, or the boy, Wayne…
No. He shook his head, tried to shift any thoughts of violence from his mind.
As much as violence would get things done much quicker; much cleaner.
He turned back to the farmhouse and he saw something.
The front door.
It was ajar.
He hadn’t noticed that before. And he wasn’t sure what to make of it. It made him wonder whether there was someone in there, just going about their day.
Or whether they were trying to make it look like someone was in there.
And if that was the case… what did it mean, really?
Why would they be pretending at all?
He moved around the side of the farm, keeping low. He approached the first of the windows, which he figured was the lounge. He crouched beside it. Held his breath. His muscles tense.
And then he lifted himself and saw it.
There was nobody in the farm. Nothing there.
The lounge was empty.
Logan stepped away and frowned.
“Anything?” Candice asked.
Logan shook his head. “Nothing.”
“What does it mean?” Emma asked.
“It means…”
Logan looked around at his surroundings. He felt the breeze drifting from over by the trees. The hairs on his arms stood on end. His tension built as the foreboding grew.
He looked around, scanned the area, and he saw something.
Over by the trees.
Right at the top of a hill, which was deceptively large.
There was someone there.
His body froze.
The man.
The man with the gun.
Jack.
“We need to get—”
He didn’t manage another word.
Gunshots fired towards them.
Chapter Twenty
The second Jack saw Logan reaching the farm, he didn’t hesitate.
He pulled the trigger and open-fired.
Bullets cracked across the fields and towards the grounds of the farm. He had to be careful not to cause too much damage to the farm, which was why he’d timed this perfectly.
Logan turned around immediately. He held out a hand, gestured for his companions to duck.
But Candice was still standing.
Jack felt caught in the moment. On the one hand, he wanted to eliminate the threat in front of him. On the other, he knew Wayne would never forgive him if Candice got hurt.
Besides. The smallest one, Emma, she was just a kid.
She’d just got caught up in this. He didn’t know how, but he couldn’t exactly hold her responsible for Logan’s crimes.
No. He needed to hold off. He needed to be careful. He couldn’t get carried away. He couldn’t slide into unnecessary violence.
He waited for Candice to disappear from view.
All of them were ducked down.
“Now,” Jack said.
He ran down the hill, through the grass. He knew he had to be careful. Logan had a rifle. He couldn’t afford him the time to shoot back at him or his people.
He hoped they’d fall into the trap. If they entered the farm, Jack knew that place better than anyone.
He could go in there and end this before they even knew what hit them.
He kept on going when he saw something ahead.
Logan stood.
He lifted his rifle and pointed right at him.
And then he pulled the trigger.
Jack dropped to his stomach instinctively. “Down!”
The bullets continued to fire over him, whizzing through the air.
He crouched there, heart racing. This hadn’t gone to plan. He still had the upper ground, but he was running out of time. All of this time, all of this waiting, and it looked like it was all going to be for nothing. Logan hadn’t bit the bait. He was still outside the farm.
“We move down there slowly,” Jack said. “We don’t let this deter us.”
“You’re putting us in danger,” Hazel said.
“Hazel, you have to trust—”
“You’re putting our son in danger. Your dog in danger.”
Jack stopped, then. The bullets from Logan had eased momentarily. But he knew they would come again. As long as they were in the grass, shielded, he knew he was going to be okay.
They could use that to their advantage.
“We move to the right,” Jack said. “Loop around them. Chances are, that’s the way they’ll be going. We close in on them. Cut them off before they have a chance to leave. And then we…”
He looked at Wayne, who he knew was still struggling with Candice’s involvement.
And then he cleared his throat. “We do what we have to do.”
He waited for a moment, waited in the silence.
And then he stood.
He half-expected a bullet to hit him right away.
But there was nothing.
Only silence.
“Come on,” he said. “Quick.”
He
moved through the grass, looping his way around the right side of the farm. He picked up his pace as he moved. He didn’t want to let this moment pass; didn’t want to give up this opportunity.
He kept on going until he saw something.
Just up ahead, there was movement.
He froze. Held up a hand to stop those behind him.
Right in front, exactly as he’d predicted, he saw someone moving through the grass.
Fleeing in the direction he’d thought they would.
He crouched again, as slowly as he could. Lifted that rifle, gradually. Pointed it towards that movement.
The shuffling edged closer.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
He thought of Logan appearing and readied himself to put him down.
Then he saw her.
She stopped right in front of them.
Staring, wide-eyed, at Jack.
“Candice?” Wayne said.
Candice stood there like she was caught in two minds. Some of her focus was on Wayne, but mostly it was on Jack.
On the rifle in his hand.
Just behind Candice, Jack saw the little girl, Emma.
They stood there, then. The silence stretched on. The tension grew.
“Candice,” Wayne said, his shaky voice the only thing cutting through the deadlock. “It’s me. It’s Wayne.”
She looked into his eyes and her bottom lip shook, just a little. The hardness of her face dropped. Her resolve slipped away.
“Wayne,” she said.
And then her face hardened.
She turned to Jack. Looked right into his eyes.
“You shot one of my friends,” Candice said.
She was looking right at Jack. And he felt bad for his son. Because whatever opinion he had of Candice—no matter how highly he thought of her—it was clear she had chosen her side in this conflict, as torn as she may be.
“You were coming towards our camp.”
“What happened,” Wayne said. “Between our people. It… it doesn’t have to change anything. Candice. I’ve—I’ve missed you. I’ve… You can come with us.”
Jack saw Candice’s gaze turn to Wayne. He saw the tears building in her eyes.
And he felt the emotion in the air.
“Logan,” Jack said, trying to stay as detached as possible. “Where is he?”