by Casey, Ryan
The same sight as before.
The circle of men, all standing around.
Clapping.
Cheering.
“Ladies and gents,” Curtis said, speeding her up a little more theatrically. “Ouuuuur champion!”
More claps. More cheers.
“And let me introduce a newcomer. The one… the only… our challenger!”
The crowd parted.
Curtis pushed Jane down to her knees.
She looked up at the woman opposite, also on her knees.
She was beaten. Bruised. Short dark hair. A few piercings in her face, but a few clearly torn out with force, too.
And then it clicked.
It clicked, as she looked over the box of heroin and supplies between them, all over again.
“Let the fight commence!” Curtis shouted.
But Jane knew the woman opposite her.
She knew the woman she was about to fight.
Who she was being asked to kill.
“J—Jane?” Zelda muttered.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Noah stood in the middle of the road and stared into the distance.
He hadn’t slept a wink last night. He’d walked ever since the trio passed by, slaughtered the dogs, and almost slaughtered Barney in the process. He’d traced their steps, close enough that he didn’t lose sight of them, but far enough away that he didn’t draw any attention, either.
Because he had no choice but to keep on moving.
No choice but to keep pressing on.
He’d seen these people who had Eddie. They were armed. And looking down at the shipment containers in the distance, he felt a fear spark up within. A shiver down his spine. Because there were lots of people here. More people than Freddie, Cady, and Mick led him to believe.
And he wasn’t sure whether he had what it took to make it in there. To find Jane—possibly Zelda, and presumably Eddie now, too.
He wasn’t sure he could do it alone. Not looking at their weapons. But more frighteningly, at their numbers.
And yet, on the other hand, as he stood there, Barney panting beside him, maybe alone was the best way. Maybe it was the best approach of all. Not because he was pushing other people away. That wasn’t what this was about.
But more because he was accepting he couldn’t keep on avoiding those he cared about.
And he did care about them.
Jane.
Zelda.
Eddie.
He cared about them deeply.
And he cared about Kelly, too. Kelly and her baby.
And the best way he could care for her now was to leave her out of this—for her sake, and for the baby’s sake.
This was his battle.
This was his fight.
And as much as he told himself he could just turn around and walk away because he didn’t owe these damned people a thing… he knew that would just be lying. Lying to himself. Lying to everyone.
He was here because he cared.
And there was no point fighting that. Not anymore.
He took a deep breath. Looked at Barney. He was going to be problematic. He didn’t want to leave him behind. Didn’t want to abandon him. Just the thought of it was painful.
But he didn’t want this pup getting dragged into this conflict.
He crouched down by his side. Tickled the fur behind his ears.
“You’re gonna have to stay here, lad. Wait it out.”
Barney tilted his head to one side, trying to listen, trying to understand.
“It’s for your own good, okay? Don’t want you getting caught up in that mess down there. We’ve seen how they treat dogs already, haven’t we?”
Barney dangled his tongue out. Wagged his back end a little. Probably the word “treat” that did it. Shit.
Noah stood up and sighed. “Wait,” he said. Tears burning his eyes. Because Barney was a reminder of Jasmine. But more than that—Barney was a reminder of Eddie. Of Zelda. Of all his friends.
He was a reminder of the inherent goodness of the people around him.
And he was walking away from him.
He started to walk on when he heard footprints patting by his side.
He stopped. Turned.
Barney looked up at him with those raised ears. Tongue dangling out. Big misunderstanding eyes glaring up at him.
“Barney,” Noah said. “You need to wait. Wait. Good boy. Wait.”
He walked further away. Barney sitting there. Staring on. Like he didn’t understand.
All of this making Noah choke back the tears.
Making his eyes water.
The second he turned around to carry on walking, Barney would just jump up and run after him.
“Barney, please,” Noah said.
He stopped again. Thought about scaring him off. But the thought of Barney thinking he’d been abandoned and thinking he wasn’t loved just tore him in two. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t leave Barney behind on those terms.
But he couldn’t just tie Barney up, either.
Unless…
He looked around. Searched for a while, Barney back by his side.
And then he found it.
Rope.
Not too thick. Not too strong.
But strong enough to hold him.
He wanted Barney to be outside in case he had to break free. Locking him away in a house was just torture, especially when there was no guarantee Noah would get back.
But tying him to a loose rope—a rope that he’d be able to gnaw through, if he needed to, if Noah didn’t make it back… that was the best middle ground right now.
He crouched down. Tied one end of the rope to a washing pole in the garden of a detached house.
And tied the other end to Barney’s front left paw.
Somewhere he could get to it with those big teeth if he needed to.
He looked at Barney. Smelled his doggy breath. Felt the warm drool slavering down his hands.
“You’re a good lad, you know?” he said. “Never been a dog person. But I can see why Jasmine loved you so much. I can see why you saved her life.”
He leaned in. Kissed Barney, right on the top of his big, thick skull.
“I’ll do my best to come back for you. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll do my best.”
And then he got up and turned around and walked down the side of the house, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Barney tugged at the washing pole.
He whined.
And then he barked a few times, trying to get Noah’s attention.
And Noah wanted nothing more than to turn around.
To give him his attention.
To let him off his lead and let him join him.
But Noah didn’t turn around once.
He walked down the side of that house and back onto the road.
He walked right down the middle of the road. Crying. Shaking.
He heard Barney’s barks for a good fifteen minutes.
Then—either through distance or through exhaustion on Barney’s part—silence.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“You okay about this, Kel?”
Kelly turned around. She was standing in the garden, baby in her arms. She felt the warmth of his lips around her breast and marvelled at just how damned odd it felt. Like a little suction engine tugging away at her nipple. Not nice. Not nice at all.
The air was warm. She felt weirdly energised. Probably the benefit of not having to carry a child inside her anymore. She felt light on her feet. Boosted. Probably the endorphins of having given birth. She didn’t really understand the science behind it, but there was definitely something to this whole having a kid thing. Seemed like it’d boosted her mindset. Put her in a whole new life-affirming state.
But there was a problem.
And that problem was Eddie.
She thought back to his note. Replayed those words over and over again in her mind.
I had to leave.
Look after him.
>
I love you both and I’m so sorry but I can’t do it.
Sunil is a better dad.
Love you.
And just thinking those words through made her feel so bad. So guilty.
She knew Eddie cared about her. Damn, she fucking knew he loved her. Didn’t take a genius to see it.
And yet she’d pushed him away. She’d treated him like shit.
She hadn’t treated him like the father of this baby.
Sunil walked up to her. Inside the house, she could see the others congregated in the kitchen. Freddie. Cady. Mick. They seemed like decent people. Apparently, Noah had directed them here. Told them to meet up with Sunil because he could lead them towards some safe place, some community.
Which meant Noah must trust them.
And as much as she wasn’t exactly Noah’s biggest flag-flying fan, Noah was usually a pretty good judge of character; she had to give him that.
Besides. Not everyone left in this limited world had to be an axe-wielding, psychopathic murderer. It stood to reason that there’d be some good left out there.
Right?
She looked up at Sunil. His dark brown eyes. That kind smile, constantly on his face. He reminded her a lot of Anwar. Not because they were both Asian—don’t even make that accusation of racism, don’t you dare. But they just had a similar demeanour about them. A similar calmness. Composure.
Except Sunil seemed more genuine. Warmer. More friendly.
She’d had her doubts about him at first. Wondered whether he was legit, whether he was as decent a guy as he came across. She wondered whether her first impressions about him were accurate. She usually erred on the side of scepticism, so the fact that she’d taken to him so quickly discomforted her and unsettled her, in a way.
She was just glad he was still here. She hated to think that way—she’d always valued her independence, something that had been instilled in her after her experiences when she was younger. But right now, baby in her arms, she felt vulnerable. Exposed. Weak. Terrified, in all truth.
“About Eddie,” Sunil said. “He’s… he’s a good guy. Mixed up, maybe. But a good guy. He’ll come back. He’ll see sense, and he’ll come back here. I know he will. You’ve just got to have faith in that. You’ve just got to—”
“I was going to see him yesterday because I wanted to tell him about what I was calling the baby.”
Sunil’s eyes twinkled. He looked deeply at Kelly. “Do you want to tell me what you’re planning on calling the baby?”
Kelly’s jaw shook. A lump swelled in her throat. “Edward. Eddie. I wanted… I wanted to name the baby after him. So he knew… so he knew this young man was his. So he knew how much I appreciate him. And how much I…”
She couldn’t say it. Choked a little on the tears and looked away.
Sunil put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. You can say it.”
“But I can’t,” Kelly said.
“No,” Sunil said. “That’s not true. You can say it. It’s okay to feel the way you do. About anyone. About anything. Don’t run from it. Don’t hide from it. Be yourself. Okay? It’s okay to be yourself.”
She looked deeply into Sunil’s eyes and said the words that she barely believed herself.
“I… I … I care about Eddie. A lot. More than he knows.”
“Say it,” Sunil said, smiling.
Resistance pushing against her.
Resistance from her past pressing back. Holding her down. Making her want to hide it. Fight it.
She looked down at Baby Edward, saw her dad’s big, jovial eyes staring up from him, and she took a deep breath.
“I think I’m in love with Eddie.”
She felt a weight rise from her shoulders almost immediately. A burden off her chest. Something she’d fought. Attachment. Commitment. And the nagging sense that she wasn’t worthy of anyone’s love. The nagging sense she wasn’t worthy of Eddie’s love.
All of it lifted in that instant. All that fear. All that resistance. All that unwillingness to attach or connect or even feel.
She felt weak. Exposed. More vulnerable than ever.
But she felt happy, too.
She felt strong.
Because she was being herself.
Her true, unfiltered self.
And there was nothing better than that.
Sunil smiled. “Damn. I’ve gotta say, I’m slightly disappointed. But I’ll take it on the chin.”
He laughed. Kelly laughed. It was the most she’d laughed in days.
“You’ll find someone too,” she said.
“How do you know I don’t have someone waiting back at my camp for me anyway?”
“I mean, I’d hope that’s not true,” Kelly said. “Or you might have to explain why you’ve been sleeping with this new arrival here.”
“I’ve not been sleeping with anyone. Just… sharing a bed. Providing a little warmth for the pregnant lady.”
Kelly laughed as she stepped inside. Mick stood there, a teacup with a football on its side in hand. He raised it, smiled at her. “How you doing, love?”
Kelly nodded. “I’m good. I…”
“We’re sorry,” Mick said. “About your friend. Sometimes people do crazy things. But don’t take it personal. If he’s got any sense about him, he’ll be right back ’ere in no time, don’t you worry m’love.”
Kelly smiled at him. She looked at Freddie, then. He was a lot sterner. Seemed a bit socially awkward, a bit shy. Maybe even autistic, from the way he acted, so blunt, so uncertain.
“So have you decided a name yet?” Cady asked.
Kelly looked at her. “Huh?”
Cady tilted her head at the kid. Brushed her greying hair out of her face. “The baby. You can’t keep him unnamed forever, poor sod. Any longer and I might have to name him myself. So go on. Pick a name right now. Own it. Stick with it. It’s not like he needs a legal document to change it anymore if he hates it when he grows up. Not in this world.”
Kelly looked at Sunil.
Then she looked down into the baby’s twinkling, bright eyes.
“Edward,” she said. “Eddie for short.”
She looked up at the group. Saw Mick raise his cup into the air. “To little Eddie!”
“To Eddie,” the others said.
Sunil squeezed her shoulder, just lightly. “To Eddie,” he said.
Kelly stood there in this kitchen, baby in her arms, and she took a few deep breaths.
She knew what came next.
They packed their things and looked back at the house.
“It’s a shame to leave here,” Sunil said.
Kelly frowned. “Really?”
“Why so surprised?”
“I don’t know. You just don’t strike me as the type who likes to stay in one place for too long.”
“You really have a strange opinion of me, don’t you?”
Kelly shrugged. “Besides. Thought you’d be eager to get back to your people after so many days.”
Sunil smiled. Chuckled, just a little. “You know, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Our home’s good. Believe me when I say that. It’s nice. There’s a real community spirit there. A real camaraderie. And that’s important in this world. But… I guess I’m an introvert. I like being here. Out in the open. And I enjoy getting to know new people, one on one. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, Kelly. It’s almost been like… well. A vacation for me.”
Kelly laughed. “Oh yeah, sounds like a perfect vacation. Dragging a child out of a screaming woman’s vagina and spending the last week sleepless. Perfect.”
Sunil laughed. “I’m serious. I’ve enjoyed it. Every moment of it. I’ve treasured it. Truly. But you’re right. It’s time for the next step. You ready?”
Kelly looked back at the house. At the long grass, still covered with tracks where she’d been dragged through it when she was giving birth.
Then she looked up at the upstairs window, where she’d given birth.
And then she thought of Eddie, and a hint of sadness crept in.
She looked at the group. Freddie. Mick. Cady.
Then she looked at her baby. Little Edward.
Then back at Sunil.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Sunil smiled. Nodded. “Good. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Forty
Eddie wasn’t sure how to feel about the new people he was with—only he was a little scared.
It was morning. Bright. Warm. His feet ached through all last night’s walking. It still all seemed like a blur to him. Some kind of nightmare mixed with some kind of dream. He was tired. Exhausted. Hungry. One thing was for sure: he wanted to just settle down. Close his eyes for a long, long time and not wake up again.
Not just because of what happened with Kelly. Not just because he’d walked away, then thought about heading back—at least before the guys called Curtis and Marky found him. No, not just that.
But the shame, too.
The thoughts.
The violent thoughts he’d started having about Sunil.
About how he wanted to put him down.
How he wanted to get him out the way so his baby could be his and his alone.
And as sick as it sounded… so Kelly would be his, too.
It sounded so wrong. So damned possessive.
But he couldn’t change how he was. And he couldn’t change how he thought. How he was wired up. He’d always been possessive. Used to be the same with the few friends he had as a kid. He remembered his first best friend, before Noah. Ken, he was called. Other kids teased him for his old-fashioned name, but Ken and Eddie kind of found themselves together, united by their bullying.
Eddie loved doing everything with Ken. Playing games with him. Eating ice cream with him. Trips to town with him. Everything.
Only Ken got popular pretty fast when it turned out he was decent at football. He still spent time with Eddie, but less time. And gradually, Eddie grew more and more jealous until eventually, he drove Ken away.
He was the same with Noah, too. He’d stuck with him, all this time, all these years. Both of them together. Rarely fallen out.
But there was still something of a stinging sensation when Noah enjoyed some happiness that he wasn’t involved in.