The World After (Book 3)

by Ryan Casey

  I remembered the last thing I saw as I got out of that car.

  I saw her looking up at me.

  But it wasn’t with love.

  It was with disappointment.

  It was with fear.

  “That was the last time I saw her awake,” I said.

  Tim was silent for a while after that. We were both sitting now, as was Lionel. I couldn’t remember when we’d decided to sit. I couldn’t remember a lot about the last minutes or however long it was.

  But the truth.

  The truth was off my chest.

  It was out in the open.

  Tim sighed. He leaned forward. Put a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll take that to the grave,” he said. “Make no mistake about it. You’ll die with that guilt. There’s no conquering it. But there’s doing right by other people, while you’re still here. That’s what life is. After all, what even is life if it isn’t a chance to right our wrongs? What is life if it isn’t a chance to learn? To change?”

  I tried to keep my shit together when Tim spoke those words. I tried to keep everything all neat and compartmentalised.

  But the stitches of my sanity had come loose, and there was no holding it back, not anymore.

  I cried.

  I let myself go and I cried.

  Tim held me. Lionel tucked his head on my lap. And as I let the weight of my guilt leak through my tear ducts, I felt something unusual. Something I hadn’t felt for a long time.

  I felt like I was myself again.

  For better and for worse, I was myself again.

  And I was going to conquer this world.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  B watched the two men and the dog from afar.

  He lowered his binoculars. He looked to his right, over at F. F looked back at him. He’d clearly seen the men too.

  B nodded at him.

  F nodded back.

  Then B turned around and saw the girl with the bag over her head.

  It was time to end this.

  It was time to break away her hope, leaving her with no choice but to convert to their ways.

  It was time to kill this man and his mutt once and for all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I was about to carry on walking, Tim and Lionel by my side, when I heard rustling in the trees beside us.

  It had been such a silent and otherwise unremarkable journey so far. And in this world, unremarkable wasn’t a negative thing. Other than the crunching of our own footsteps in the snow, or Lionel’s panting, there really had been nothing in terms of outside distractions.

  But there was someone here.

  I had absolutely no doubts about it.

  Someone was watching us.

  “Tim,” I said.

  Tim turned around and stopped. He narrowed his eyes. “What’s up?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat. It felt like the trees around us were all watching, getting ready to swallow us right up. “I… I think there’s someone watching us.”

  Tim frowned. “Nonsense. We would’ve seen them coming.”

  “Not these people.”

  “What?”

  “I said not these people. Not the way they move. They… The only time we’ll know about them is when they’re onto us. And by that point, it’ll be too late.”

  Tim didn’t look all that fazed by what I was saying. “Look, Scott. I’ve seen a lot of nastiness in this world, and you have too. We’ve seen all sorts of people. But we’re going to deal with these people you’re after, okay? And we’re going to get that kid of yours back from them. Nobody’s invisible. We can do this. Right?”

  But it wasn’t right. After all, I knew someone was here. I could just feel it in the air. “We need to change our route,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I said we need to change our route.”

  Tim leaned forward as if he was about to say something. Then, he started coughing. For every cough he spluttered, I felt more and more nervous about who might be listening to those coughs, who might be watching, honing in on us slowly but surely.

  “Can you be quiet please?”

  Tim widened his eyes. “Whoa. I mean, it’s alright for you to get all emotional on me. But when I need a little cough, you’re throwing a hissy fit? What’s got into you?”

  “I’m just not happy about this,” I said. “Any of it. Something… something’s wrong. We have to get away from here.”

  “And we will,” Tim said, “if we get a move on and keep walking. You in?”

  I looked around at the trees. I swore I saw faces behind them, movement in the distance. I thought I heard footsteps crunching through the snow.

  But Tim was right.

  We had to keep going.

  Standing here wasn’t going to be any good for anyone.

  Whether it was in my head or not, there was no doubt that we had to press forward.

  The feeling of uncertainty didn’t waver the more we walked. It intensified, in fact. There were walls either side of us. Walls of two housing estates. I wanted to get away from here. I wanted to turn back. It was like I’d opened up all my vulnerabilities by admitting the truth about what happened to Harriet, and now I couldn’t zip them up again and hide them away.

  But that’s exactly what I had to do.

  If I wanted to get to Holly, I had to put my insecurities to one side.

  I had to face reality.

  I had to be me.

  “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a suburbia,” Tim said.

  I walked to his side and looked at the place we’d walked right into. It was exactly what he said—a run of the mill suburbia. Detached homes. Semi-detached homes. Decent, mid-range cars left on the fronts of drives. Some of them had graffiti scrawled on them. Some had windows smashed. This place had gone to shit, there was no doubt about that.

  There was an eeriness to its broken normality.

  “Come on,” Tim said. “Better keep going.”

  I knew we had to get back around to Blackpool train station. We’d been on the railway lines, but we didn’t want to walk right into the masked group’s trap. We wanted to have the advantage, so that meant taking a longer route.

  But we were so close, we were within touching distance.

  So close to Holly.

  So close to getting her back.

  So close to everything being okay again.

  Then we could finally investigate the extraction point…

  I walked past these houses. I didn’t look into the windows. I didn’t want to see who may or may not be in there. Because just seeing other people at this stage brought with it problems; problems that I didn’t have the time to face.

  All I had the time to face was the final stretch of my journey.

  All I had was—

  “Oh, hell. Look at that kid there.”

  When Tim spoke those words, I stopped. Not just my body, but everything. My mind. My thoughts.

  And in my frozen stupor, I turned around.

  Tim was walking over to a young boy.

  The young boy was crouched down. He was crying. Curled up in a ball.

  The voices.

  The movement.

  They were coming.

  I could feel it.

  “Tim!” I said.

  Tim turned around, just inches from the kid now. He looked at me, confusion in his eyes.

  “Get away from him. Get away!”

  “But he’s just a…”

  Tim didn’t finish what he was saying.

  The kid jumped up and stabbed him in the stomach repeatedly.

  I watched the kid plough the knife in and out of Tim’s stomach and I knew this was it. I knew we were trapped.

  And as Tim fell, I saw that same look in his eyes that I’d seen in Harriet’s just before she’d faded into unconsciousness.

  Disappointment.

  Fear.

  My heart raced. My body quivered. I had to get away. I had to…

  I turned around to run, with L
ionel beside me.

  But it was already too late.

  The children were here.

  The masked men were here.

  And I was surrounded.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  I looked at the people surrounding me in their Venetian masks, children beside them, and I felt total fear take over me.

  It was getting darker by the second. The weather had taken on a distinct chill. I wasn’t sure whether it had really got cooler or whether that was just a result of what I’d had to witness.

  Tim—my new friend—stabbed to death by one of those children.

  A child that was now looking at me with those same glassy eyes.

  I stared back into his eyes and I felt tears building up. I wondered what he’d been through to drive him to such a state. I wondered what he’d seen with his previously innocent young eyes. Eyes that had watched normal things just a matter of months ago. Television. Video games.

  There was no fragment of that boy behind those eyes now. That boy was dead.

  I heard footsteps walking down the road towards me, and when I looked up, between the narrow suburban streets, I saw her.

  It was Holly. No doubt about it. But she had a bag on her head. Seeing her like that reminded me of the last time I’d seen Hannah. The last time I’d seen Holly’s mum, Sue. Holly’s brother, Aiden.

  The humanity taken away from her, all because of a bag.

  Lionel whined when he saw Holly. I tensed my fists, started to walk in her direction.

  But then the child lifted his knife. And from the look on his face, I got the sense he wasn’t messing around.

  I pushed on anyway. Because I didn’t care about what that kid might do to me. What I cared about was Holly, and what might happen to her if I didn’t step in and act.

  “I’m here, Holly!” I wanted to get her attention. I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. Because she’d been alone for so long. She must be afraid. So afraid. “I’m here.”

  But then something happened that did make me stop.

  The man with Holly. I recognised that silver mask of his. The leader.

  He lifted a knife of his own, and he placed it against Holly’s neck.

  When he did that, every muscle in my body went to mush. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to risk moving an inch because I knew one wrong move and the last thing—Lionel aside—that I cared about would be gone. And I’d have failed her. I’d have failed her, just like I’d failed everyone else in my damned life.

  So I did something that surprised even myself.

  I dropped my axe and I lifted my hands.

  “What do you want?” I shouted. “What the hell do you want?”

  The masked men didn’t respond. There were five of them that I could see, but there could be more of them watching. They just stared on, as did the children.

  And in the end, it was the leader who made the move.

  He lifted the bag from Holly’s head.

  And he put the knife into her hands.

  She looked at me. I saw the recognition. I saw the tears. I could see her lips moving, like she wanted to say a thousand things but just couldn’t strike up the courage to get them out, for whatever reason.

  “Holly,” I said, lips quivering. “It’s okay now. Just—just come to me. Please.”

  But she didn’t move. She just stared at me. And what scared me the most about her stare was that she only looked one step away from the dead-eyed looks the rest of the children were giving me. Like just one more tragedy would be enough to tip her over the edge.

  I was so focused on Holly that I didn’t even notice Lionel slip away from me and go running towards her.

  I saw the look on her face. The smile, like she was going to be reunited with someone she loved.

  Then I saw the way the leader’s hand tightened on her shoulder. And the way her face seemed to turn to stone, right that second.

  She glanced at me again.

  Then she looked at Lionel.

  She opened her mouth and screamed at him, waving around her knife.

  Lionel stopped, uncertain. He tilted his head, like he didn’t understand.

  Holly kept on waving that knife, slashing it through the air. I could hear the anger in her scream. But I wasn’t fooled. I could see the tears in her eyes, too. I could see just how little she wanted to do this.

  “Lionel,” I called. “Come back here.”

  But he didn’t come back. And when one of the other children walked over to him, I started to panic. He was surrounded. He wasn’t going to get away, not if he didn’t act fast.

  But he was still so transfixed on Holly.

  Looking at her, like he’d been betrayed.

  Whining.

  A child got within feet of him. Knife raised.

  “Lionel!”

  He turned around and looked at me. Tilted his head.

  The child swung the knife.

  I closed my eyes.

  I couldn’t watch.

  When I opened them, I didn’t see Lionel lying there in a heap.

  I saw him bolting off, into the gardens of one of the houses.

  He’d done a runner.

  He was gone.

  I wanted to go for him. I couldn’t bear to think that he might be afraid right now. Because he wasn’t just a friend. He was family now too. And I looked out for my family. All of us did.

  “Whatever you think you have to do,” I said, walking in Holly’s direction. “Whatever they’ve told you you have to do. Whatever they’ve threatened you with. You don’t have to do it. Any of it. Because I’m here now, Holly. I’m here. And we’re going to be okay.”

  I saw the rest of the people drifting around me as I got nearer to Holly. Like they were waiting for her to commit her initiation rites. Waiting for her to put that knife into me.

  I stopped just inches from Holly. My body quivered. My heart raced. I knew how close to danger I was. I knew how close to death I was.

  But I’d stare it in the eye.

  I’d stare it in the eye and I’d stand up to it, because I didn’t believe Holly was a killer. I’d seen how she was when I’d killed. I didn’t believe she was that person.

  “You were right,” I said. “All the people I turned away. All the times I took instead of seeing the opportunities in front of me. You were right. So don’t… don’t fall down the same trap as I did Holly. Don’t do what I did.”

  Tears stained her cheeks. Her eyes were completely bloodshot. She looked torn. Torn between an act she didn’t want to do, and between living.

  Because that’s how she saw it.

  She had to kill me if she wanted to survive.

  But that didn’t have to be the only way.

  It couldn’t be the only way.

  I crouched. I got on my knees. Because I saw what this was now. I saw that I didn’t stand much of a chance of survival. So I’d beg. I’d beg if I had to.

  And it wasn’t for me. It was for Holly. For her making the right decision here.

  “You do whatever you have to do,” I said. “To make yourself safe.”

  I smiled at her, accepting whatever was to come.

  I saw the recognition in her eyes. I saw the grief cover her face.

  Then I saw her lift the knife.

  I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath. I got ready for everything to go away. Because Holly was doing the right thing by her, really. She was being pragmatic. Killing me bought her some more time. I had to believe that. I had to—

  I heard a gasp.

  I thought at first it was myself. That the pain response was just delayed.

  But when I opened my eyes, I saw that wasn’t the case.

  Holly was holding the knife.

  But she hadn’t stabbed me.

  The other end of that knife was in the belly of the leader.

  She’d stabbed him.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Holly didn’t know how to feel when she stabbed the man they called B in the side of his be
lly, just that she had to run.

  She ran away from him, knife still in her hand, before any of them could get her. One of the weird children reached for her, slashed out for her, but she skipped past him and ran towards the house where Lionel had disappeared to. She could hear voices behind her. Shouting. They didn’t shout much usually so she knew they had to be really mad.

  But she had no time to worry about that.

  She just had to make sure she got away from here before they found her.

  She looked back. Three of the children were running after her. One of them—a boy with short hair—didn’t look as scary as usual. He looked like he’d woken up from a long sleep and realised everything that was happening. But he was still trying to chase her so she still had to run.

  She ran down the driveway of the house where Lionel had gone to. She stopped when she reached the garden, and looked around. There was no sign of Lionel anywhere. She wanted to find him. She wanted him to be okay.

  She’d seen what these people did. They wouldn’t be afraid to harm a dog.

  She ran over to a hedge at the back of the garden and waited there for a few seconds.

  But she soon realised it wasn’t going to be enough. She sometimes had nightmares that she was being chased, and all she had to do was hide and the bad people would pass by eventually.

  But this wasn’t a nightmare.

  This was real life.

  She couldn’t wait here.

  So she turned around and went to climb through a small gap in the wooden fence at the bottom of the garden.

  She got halfway through it when she heard their footsteps stop. They must be in the garden now. They must be so close to her. So she scrambled on, all the time remembering what Scott had told her to do if anything happened to him.

  Head north.

  Head north to Carlisle.

  There was something good there, so that’s where she had to go.

  She felt something, then. Something warm touched her ankle. She yelped, then kicked back.

  But then she heard a whine.

  It was only when she’d pulled herself through the fence that she realised it was Lionel.

  And the children were right behind him.