by Casey, Ryan
Some… bitterness.
As damned awful a human being as he knew it made him, he just cracked on with life regardless.
As well as he could, anyway.
But that jealousy never went away. That envy never went away. That desire to be the main man, once in his miserable damned life, it never went away.
Until eventually, Noah decided he was the one who was gonna go away. He crossed the line. Said some awful shit about Kelly and his son. No choice, in the end.
He missed Noah. No doubt about that.
But he couldn’t deny a strange satisfaction about finally being able to live a life on his own terms rather than one where his best mate got all the plaudits for a goddamned change.
A life where he didn’t have to turn to jokes. A life where he didn’t have to always make a goddamned wisecrack. A life where he could be taken seriously, just like he damn well deserved.
But he wished Noah were here right now.
Curtis walked at Eddie’s side. He was a strange-looking chap, to say the least. Tall, at least six-five. Muscular. A massive, solid head, and eyes that pointed in two different directions, so it was hard to see where exactly he was looking. Curly ginger hair and a wispy ginger beard. Always smiling with these yellow, rotting teeth.
Marky was a much more ordinary-looking guy. Dark hair. Gaunt. Didn’t say a lot.
But he held on to a rifle. That spoke louder than words.
“Come on, Eddie boy,” Curtis said. “You must have some pretty crazy stories from these times. We’ve all been through crazy-ass shit, haven’t we, huh?”
Eddie had to admit he was a bit taken aback by Curtis and Marky’s response to his arrival. When he’d seen them, he thought he was a dead man. They told him they had a place, and they wanted him to come along with them. Mostly because he’d “shown some fight” when he’d seen them. They liked that, Curtis said. They looked for that in a man. Fighting spirit. Loyalty.
“If I told you I’d got a woman pregnant, and she disowned me as soon as the kid was born, would you believe me?” Eddie said.
Curtis and Marky looked at one another and burst out laughing. That was their thing. They seemed to find everything Eddie said hilarious.
“You’re a funny guy, Eddie,” Curtis said. “You know that, don’t you? You’re a funny guy. Wait ’til you meet the other guys. Comedian. Absolute comedian. You ever done stand-up comedy?”
“Can’t say I’m a fan of standing up too much. Prefer sitting.”
Curtis laughed again, smacked his chest. “This guy. ‘Prefers sitting.’ Fuck! Fucking hell, man. You get me in stitches. Fuck. You never done stand-up? You can do stand-up with a chair or something. The boys. They’re gonna love you. Man, you’re gonna be famous back home!”
And so the walk went on like this. The occasional comment from Curtis. A comment back from Eddie—something he didn’t really have to think about all that much. And then a descent into hysterics.
And maybe it was the tiredness. Maybe it was the emotional rawness. Maybe it was that need for a distraction.
He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but Eddie knew one thing.
He kind of liked the attention he was getting.
He kind of felt like… one of the boys.
Something he’d not felt in his whole damned life.
So on it went. The walk. The jokes. The laughs. Until Curtis brought up the first thing that really made Eddie stop and think and feel awkward all over again.
“You fucked many bitches since, huh?”
Eddie froze. Thought of Kelly. That special night together. The love he felt for her.
“Just the one,” he said.
This seemed to make Curtis laugh more than anything. “‘Just the one.’ Shit. Well, man. Lemme promise you one thing. Funny man like you. Gonna have plenty of bitches to fuck when we get back home. Yessir, believe me. Funny man. ‘Just the one.’”
Eddie felt a bit uneasy at that. There was still an uncertainty around these guys. Still a sense that they were leading him on, or that they could snap at any moment.
What didn’t help were the dogs.
It happened in the night. Came across a bunch of wild dogs. And Marky, he just took them out, one by one. Didn’t even flinch.
Eddie couldn’t think of anything but Barney.
He was drifting from his thoughts when he saw shipment container crates up ahead.
A heavy hand slapped on his back, made him jump.
“Well, funny man,” Curtis said. “Looks like we made it home, huh? Come on. Lemme show you round.”
Eddie followed Curtis and Marky down to the docks. There were loads of enormous containers that these people looked to be using as a home. The smell of meat in the air. Of food cooking away. And the sound of conversation too. People here. Lots of people. Fifty that Eddie counted. Maybe even more.
A little society from the remnants of whatever was left of society.
“Mornin, Haz,” Curtis said.
A wave back from this fella. Followed by more. More smiles. More nods. More jokes and more laughs.
“Wait ’til you meet this guy proper, Barry,” Curtis said—and many other variations of this. “He’ll have you in stitches. You better believe it, yessir.”
Slapping him on the back, time and time again.
And the further Eddie descended into this community, the more he felt himself actually liking these people. Because they all seemed so friendly. So smiley. So happy.
Only there was one problem. And weirdly, it only properly registered when he reached a container with its door ajar.
Women.
He didn’t see any women.
He was about to ask where they were when Curtis ushered him inside the container.
Eddie stopped.
Froze.
“I…”
“Don’t worry, bossman,” Curtis said. “We ain’t gonna lock you away or anythin’. Just want you waitin’ here. ’Til the main event. You timed it well, man! Timed it very well. We talk later. For now… You wait. Maybe you can tell some of your jokes. Post-match entertainment. Get it?”
He laughed. Eddie was forced to nod and smile, out of politeness more than anything.
“Post-match entertainment,” Curtis said, still chuckling to himself. “Good. That’s a good one. Come on. Inside. Won’t be long, you’d better believe. No sir.”
Eddie took a deep breath. Figured he had no choice.
Then he stepped inside this shipment container.
The door shut behind him.
He was alone.
He wasn’t sure how long he waited in here. A little torch lit it up. It smelled sour. Like sweat. Like someone had been in here before him.
He swore he saw specks of blood on the metal walls, too.
He started to grow concerned. Started to panic. Maybe they’d locked him in here. Maybe they were keeping him in here to die.
He thought about banging and demanding they let him free when the door opened again.
Marky stood there. He didn’t look happy.
“Come on. You’re on.”
Eddie frowned. He didn’t know what to say.
But he could hear something.
Voices.
Shouting.
Like a crowd.
He stepped out of the container. No idea how long he’d been locked away in there. He felt Marky push against his back, a little harder than Curtis.
“What’s—what’s that noise?” Eddie asked.
Marky smiled. “You’ll see.”
He walked further. Further and further until he saw something.
People.
A crowd.
Curtis saying things in the middle of them.
Shouting. Like he was refereeing some kind of football match or something.
He walked further around the corner.
When he saw what was in the middle of this circle of men—fifty, sixty of them, easy—he froze solid.
There were two naked women in the
middle of this ring.
They looked battered. Bruised. Exhausted.
But he recognised them.
He recognised both of them.
Zelda.
Jane.
And they were both fighting one another.
“To the death,” Marky said. “To the goddamned death.”
It was right then that Eddie realised just how deep shit he was actually in.
Chapter Forty-One
Jane saw Zelda standing opposite, and she knew she was in deep shit.
It was stifling hot. Dust kicked up into the air from the feet of the crowd surrounding them. Everywhere, she could hear applause. Clapping. Shouting. The voices of this rabid crowd echoing and spinning around her mind, bouncing around her skull. The smell of sweat on her skin. Of her own bad breath, which seemed to have got even worse since getting addicted to heroin. Her body shook. Her muscles felt weak. She wasn’t sure how much fight she had in her; how strong she actually was. She’d won that first fight on luck. By chance. She wasn’t a fighter. Hadn’t had a scrap her entire life. She was an introvert. A quiet girl. Someone who kept a low profile and always chose peace over war.
And besides. Zelda. She knew Zelda. She wouldn’t go as far as saying she was friends with Zelda, but there was a mutual respect there—mutual, she hoped, anyway. They’d lived at Galgate together for a while. Shared a home. Spent some time on the road before Zelda went away with Barney. And again, while she wouldn’t go as far as to say they were “friends”, at the same time, she couldn’t fight this woman. She couldn’t kill her. Not only because she didn’t want to—but she knew Zelda was a tough woman, too. Way, way tougher than her.
And right now, she could see the wideness of Zelda’s eyes. That pale look to her skin. The way her jaw shook, her teeth chattered together.
The way she stared at that box between them.
She was hooked.
She’d been through the same ordeal as Jane.
Jane just had to hope she wasn’t as desperate as she was when she’d gouged that poor woman’s eyes out.
She moved the edge of her thumb along the sharp shard of glass in her hand. The one Curtis gave her.
She didn’t want to use it.
But if she had to…
No. Don’t think like that. It won’t come to that.
You’ll figure this out together.
One way or another, you’ll figure it out.
“Well, ladies?” Curtis shouted, bemused and baffled look on his face. “Are we gonna just stand here? Or are we gonna get this party started?”
A chorus of cheers. A few boos picking up, the longer they stood here, the longer they delayed.
And Jane could only turn around to Zelda.
Just as Zelda looked at her, too.
That recognition in her eyes.
That realisation.
And then, Zelda walked.
Jane started walking too, right on cue. Right towards Zelda. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She didn’t know how Zelda was going to take this. She just knew they had to keep up the facade. They had to fight.
And then they had to figure something out.
The crowd started to cheer again. The circle of people moved inwards, swallowing them up, so it was only the two of them. The two of them, surrounded. Closed in. Suffocated. Swallowed whole.
She kept walking. She was just inches from Zelda now. That box of supplies between them. She wanted to stay aware of that. The last woman she’d fought smacked it against her, knocked her to the ground. Put her on her back right away.
She reached the box and stopped.
Zelda stopped, too.
She stood opposite. Stared into Jane’s eyes.
The crowd quietened.
Everything faded into the background.
“We can get out of this,” Jane said. “We… we can find a way. There has to be a way.”
Zelda looked around at the crowd.
At the armed guards.
And then at the box between them.
And then she looked back at Jane.
“I’m sorry, kid,” she said. “But I only see one way out of this.”
The next thing Jane knew, she felt a crack on her jaw.
So hard it knocked it out of place.
She tumbled to one side. Just about stayed on her feet.
But her ears rang with the shouts of the crowd.
With the “oohs!” after that punch landed.
She looked around at Zelda, a little distant, a little dizzy.
And then a foot cracked against her nose.
Her nose bust right away. She tasted blood almost immediately.
And before she could even steady herself, before she could even get back to her feet, Zelda swung at her again.
Then again.
Each kick landing with perfect painful precision.
Winding her.
Bloodying her.
Leaving her unable to react.
She toppled over onto her scratched, bloodied knees. Clutched her stomach. That blade still in hand. She looked up. Saw Zelda standing over her. Not the woman she used to know. Far from it, now.
Because she was right in her instincts.
They’d never been friends.
And Zelda was right about something else, too.
There was only one way out of this.
She looked over at Curtis, who stood there. Smiling. But… was that a glimmer of concern she saw flickering in his eyes, too?
She looked back at Zelda as the foot came in again, and she lifted that blade of glass and swung it at her ankle.
But it was too late.
The kick landed with perfect precision, once again.
Knocked the blade from her fingers.
And before anyone had the chance to even notice what’d happened, Zelda was on top of Jane.
Pinning her down.
Hands around her throat.
Jane gasped for breath. She reached around for that shard of glass, but it was just out of sight. She tried to pick up a stone, tried to crack a few of them against Zelda’s scarred face, but to no avail. She tried to claw at her nose. At her eyes. Pull her hair.
But Zelda kept those hands around her throat.
Tighter.
Tighter.
Jane’s vision blurring.
Fear turning into desperation.
Desperation turning into—
A crack.
Somewhere from the crowd, a rock hitting Zelda’s head.
Knocking her to one side.
Loosening her hands.
Jane didn’t know where it came from. She didn’t know whether it was Curtis or one of the goons he had rooting for her.
Only that she had an opportunity.
A chance.
She punched Zelda in the face. Hard.
Knocked her off her.
Sat on top of her and pinned her down, just like Zelda pinned her down.
“The eyes!” the crowd shouted. “Pop her eyes again!”
Jane found herself moving her thumbs up Zelda’s cheeks.
She found herself wondering if she could do it again.
If she had it in her to gouge someone else’s eyes out.
Was this what she was now?
Is this what her life amounted to, now? Until they got bored with her, anyway?
The Eye Gouger?
She moved her hands over Zelda’s face, and then she stopped.
She leaned right into Zelda. Looked at her. Closely.
Because Zelda was saying something.
Whispering something.
She leaned forward. Made it look like she was just getting leverage on her or something.
And then she heard Zelda.
“The bolts,” she whispered. “The bolts in my cell. They’re loose. If we get through this… I can get us out of here. I can get us both out of here. If we get through this.”
Jane looked down at Zelda, unsure of what to think. One second, Zelda h
ad been trying to kill her. Now it seemed like she wanted to help her.
But how?
How were they both going to get out of this?
“I don’t—”
“He won’t let you die,” Zelda said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Heard the way he talks about you. Use that. Trust me. Please. Just trust me.”
Jane heard the crowd starting to grumble again; heard the moans kicking in. She had to do something. She had to act. And she found herself at a turning point.
She could kill Zelda. She could kill her right here, and she could finish this.
Or she could trust Zelda.
Her life. Her eventual death when Curtis got bored.
Or both their lives.
Or both their deaths.
Was the risk worth taking?
She took a deep breath.
Swallowed a lump in her throat.
And then she loosened her grip on Zelda.
Almost immediately, Zelda booted her between the legs.
Spun her over.
Dragged her to her feet.
And before Jane even had a chance to register what’d happened, she felt a sharp blade pressed against her throat.
The piece of glass she’d held.
The crowd gasped as Zelda stood there. Blade to her throat.
“Here’s how this is gonna go,” Zelda said. “You make one wrong move right now, and I’ll slit your prize cow’s throat. You’ll go bankrupt. I know how the betting’s been rigged. I know how it works. So you’re going to listen to my terms. And you’re going to listen to them real closely.”
The crowd quieted. A few mutters between them. Uncertainty. Like many were wondering whether this was part of the entertainment.
Zelda held that shard of glass close. “You feed us. You let us back to wherever the hell we’ve come from. You let us get the hell back to full strength. And then I promise you we’ll give you a fight. A damned good fight. But this isn’t a fair fight. It isn’t a fair fight, and you know it. So end it. Right now. Or she dies.”
Curtis looked on. Narrow eyes. For the first time, Jane swore his smile had dropped.
“End it!” Zelda shouted.
Curtis sighed. Shook his head. Stepped forward. “Okay. Okay. No need for the theatrics, no. No need for none of that. Put that blade down, missy. Put it down right this second.”
“I’m not lowering it until you—”
“You don’t make the rules around here. No, miss. But I will say one thing. You shown courage. You shown balls. I like that in a woman. Ha. You hear that, Eddie? Good joke, huh? Bring him over here. I got a task for him.”