Imagine living life without regret.
Seeing he had upset the kid perversely satisfied Finn. Maybe now he would stop thinking of him as a good guy. Maybe now he sees what I truly am.
They reached the end of the road where they were met by a wide roundabout. A retail park lay to their left. A makeshift camp had been erected in its carpark, full of people milling around and living in tents for mutual protection. These communes had popped up everywhere in the last couple of months. People were too afraid to stay in their homes alone, so they grouped together like flies, choosing to live outside in their own collective filth. Finn could think of nothing worse.
The other roads off the roundabout led back to the built-up areas of the city.
“Where now?” Finn asked the kid.
“What are you going to do when you find Dominic? Are you going to kill him? You killed Steve back at the Hobby Horse.”
“Who? Oh, you mean the Afghan vet. He killed himself when he pulled a knife on me. Why do you care, anyway? Those gobshites let you starve half-to-death.”
Minty shrugged. They had come to a stop at the roundabout so he knelt and patted the dog—or Wonder Mutt as he was apparently called. “I just don’t think you should kill people. I don’t think you should kill Dom.”
Finn narrowed his eyes and tried to understand the kid’s agenda. “What does it have to do with you whether I kill him or not?”
Minty shrugged. “Don’t you think there’s been enough killing? The last two days, all I’ve been able to do is look out of the living room window, and it's been like watching a horror movie. This morning I saw a woman raped right in the middle of the road. She was screaming out for help, and people just walked on by. I saw a little boy point at her and ask his mummy what she was crying about. Then, when she lay there abandoned and sobbing, someone came and stole her shoes. If I’d had anything to eat in days, I would have thrown up.”
Finn imagined the woman’s fear and then transferred it to his sister. Had she screamed out? Or had she gone somewhere in her head and remained silent? Just like Minty, the image made him want to vomit.
Finn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but didn't show it. Violence only upset you if you allowed it into your thoughts. He shrugged. “Everyone knows their time is up. They don’t care. People can do what they like.”
“Exactly,” said Minty. “So you could choose not to kill Dom. I don’t want you to be like everybody else. Beat him up if you have to, just don’t kill him.”
Finn grunted. “Tell me which way to go, kid. I don’t have time to moralise with you.”
“I’m not telling you anything unless you promise you won’t kill Dom.”
“Fine, I promise. Now tell me.”
Minty frowned. “I don’t believe you.”
Finn clenched his fists and felt his heart race. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I. Won’t. Kill. Dom.”
Minty stared him in the face for several seconds. Finn didn’t appreciate being scrutinised by a child, but he kept his temper somehow.
“The warehouse is straight on over the roundabout.”
“Thank you!” Finn nodded and got going again. Minty and Wonder Mutt hurried to keep up.
As they got walking again, Finn considered the myriad of ways he could kill Dom. Not once could he imagine a way of not killing him. The guy had been dead the moment Finn's ma had uttered his name.
A death sentence.
Abandoned cars choked the roundabout. It was due to such congestion that people never bothered to try the roads anymore. Finn had arrived in England by boat, but he hadn't been fleeing the grey death. He had been fleeing Northern Ireland because of what it had become. The offshoot of the old IRA Finn was part of had taken the end of the world as a sign that God was angry. It had led them to plan the largest domestic attack in the nation’s history—bombing a dozen Protestant and secular targets simultaneously. With national security falling into disarray, getting the parts for the bomb had been child’s play. Planting and detonating them was going to be even easier. Finn’s bomb was earmarked for a secular primary school. The group’s leader, Reverend Chris Adams, told Finn God would reward him for punishing the offspring of the wicked. The group's other targets included a hospital, police station, and an embassy. Twelve targets in total—one for each apostle of Christ. Every bomb would be an offering to a chosen saint.
Thousands would die.
Even as Billions died.
It was murder for murder's sake.
“It’s just down here,” said Minty, pointing, “just past the police station.”
Wonder Mutt ran around them in excited circles.
Finn studied the police station’s windows as they neared, wondering if anyone lurked inside. Proximity to law enforcement had worried him for so long that his heart rate increased out of habit. Finn saw police officers as the enemy—enforcers of an unholy regime. Truth was, they were no different to anybody else. The whole world was twisted and dark. Everyone found their own corner to piss in. What Finn once thought were just causes now seemed like childish fantasies.
Or outright fallacies.
“Are you okay, son?” somebody shouted from across the road.
Finn looked up and saw a police officer standing in the station's empty car park. He wore a white shirt with lapels, but lacked the rest of his uniform. He pointed a finger and asked again. “Are you okay?”
“Who, me?” asked Minty, when he realised the policer officer was addressing him and not Finn.
“Yes, are you in need of help? If you are, you can come on over to me.”
Finn shrugged at Minty. “Go on over. You’re better off with him than me.”
Minty waved back at the man across the road. “No, I’m fine; thank you, officer.”
“You don’t look fine to me, son. You look dirty and malnourished.”
Finn chuckled, letting the officer know he was in agreement. “I just met the kid today so don't blame me.”
“Finn gave me food,” said Minty. “He's my friend.”
The officer grew suspicious. He exited the car park and mounted the grassy embankment that bordered the road. It led Wonder Mutt to grumble and move to Minty's side. Finn noticed the officer had a gun on his hip, but he was questioned about his own weapon before he had chance to mention it. “That’s a big knife you’ve got hanging from your belt, sir.”
“Not big enough with the way things are.”
The officer laughed with what seemed to be understanding, but he looked at Minty and moved his hand over his gun.
Finn's hand hovered towards his knife.
“There’s a lot of bad men out in the world right now,” the officer said, now addressing Minty again. “Not many are willing to offer food without wanting something in return.”
Minty seemed to grow pale as if the comment made full sense to him. “Finn is all right. He’s a good guy.”
Finn bristled at the words. There he goes again.
The officer eyeballed Finn. “Is that so?”
“No, it’s not,” said Finn. “I’m not a good guy, officer. In fact, I’m a pretty bad guy, even by today’s standards. It still doesn't make me someone who hurts kids.”
Finn thought of the little girl in the rubble.
At least, not any more.
“I gave Minty food because he needed it. In return, he is helping me find a warehouse called Latif’s.”
The officer was quiet for a moment while he digested what Finn had told him. Gradually, his hand moved away from his gun and relaxed by his hip. “Well, I suppose that’s the best I can expect nowadays. If you’re looking for Latif’s, you found it. It’s right at the end of this road. I wouldn’t advise going there though.”
Finn took a step towards the officer which made the man flinch and touch his gun again. Finn had to raise his hands to show no threat. “Why wouldn’t I want to go there, officer?”
“Because it burned down. I heard shooting last night, and wh
en I went to check things out this morning, the warehouse was a blackened ruin.”
Finn ground his teeth. Had Dom set a fire, or had he been inside the building when it went up? Was he already dead? A twist of irony Finn would not appreciate.
I want that fucker to know who I am before I kill him. I want him to know he’s dying because of what he did to Marie. I want a confession. For my ma.
“I still need to check it out.” Finn turned to Minty. “You should stay here.”
“No way. I don’t know this guy.” He reached down and clutched Wonder Dog as if looking for agreement.
“He’s a police officer.”
“So? You know all those people I told you about? The ones who walked right on by while that woman lay on the ground begging for help? One of them was a pig.”
Finn winced at the slur, but the officer didn’t seem insulted. The time for sensitivity had long passed.
The officer sighed. “I’m sorry about that, son. Truth is, many of my colleagues who tried to do their duty when things went bad were beaten or stabbed to death. There's a lot more bad in this world than good, I'm afraid. I’ve been on my own for weeks now. A few of the junior officers took off early on, but most of the older guys stayed as long as they could stand. Police officers are human beings too—not all of them are good, I’m afraid. You’ll be safe with me though, son. Both of you, in fact. I have food, some water.”
Minty shook his head without even considering it. “I’m going with Finn.”
“No, you’re not!” Finn growled. “Look, kid, I appreciate you wanting to help me, but let’s not forget it was me who got you out of that room. I don’t owe you anything. Time to say goodbye. This fella is obviously the best bet for you.”
“I’m not staying here.” Minty moved to Finn’s side. Wonder Mutt followed, tail wagging. “I don’t know this guy.”
“No, you don’t, but you don’t know me either.”
“You’ve protected me instead of hurting me. That’s not something I’m about to give up.”
“It’s not your choice.” Finn walked away.
Minty and the dog followed.
“I’ll just follow you,” said Minty.
Finn turned, and was about to yell at the kid when he froze solid. Minty was oblivious to what was going on behind him and kept on arguing. “You saved me, so now you have to take care of me. I’m not stay—”
“Minty! Shut up and turn around.”
“No, I won’t stay—”
“Minty! Turn your empty head around.”
Wonder Mutt growled.
Minty frowned, but seemed to finally get the message. He turned around and saw the police officer pointing a gun at them.
“What do you want?” asked Finn.
“Tell the boy he isn’t going anywhere.”
Finn glared. “Why?”
“I’m taking him off your hands. He’ll be safer with me.”
Finn took a half-step forwards, but kept his hands above his head. “The kid doesn’t want to stay with you. I’m sorry, but he's coming with me.”
“You’re not taking him anywhere. Tell him to stay, and I might let you walk away.”
Minty stood between the two men, mortified. He obviously saw some kind of safety with Finn. He looked terrified now that safety was being threatened.
Wonder Mutt barked.
“Tell that mongrel to keep its trap shut!”
“Don't shoot him,” Minty begged.
Finn shook his head in disgust at the officer. “I bet the end of the world is like winning the lottery for sickos like you. Are you even a police officer?”
The man sniggered, adjusted his grip on his gun. “Like I said, we’re all just human beings. Now walk away, Mick!”
Finn snarled and so did Wonder Mutt. “I swear to God, if I hear that word one more time today…”
“Get moving!”
Finn tried to take another step closer, but the officer waved his gun. “Uh uh, don't be an idiot.”
Suddenly, Minty got in the police officer’s face and laughed. “You don’t know who you’re messing with, you stupid dickhead. Finn will kick your arse if you try to take me.”
“Minty! Shut your mouth.”
“I’m right, though, aren't I? You won't leave without me, will you?”
Finn shrugged. “Sorry, kid. I have my own problems to worry about.”
The officer grinned like a cat standing over a mouse. “Clever man. Now walk away so I don't waste a bullet.”
Before Finn turned to leave, he leaned towards Minty. “First chance you get, run!”
Minty shook his head, his eyes wide and terrified. “Please, Finn. Don’t leave me. I need you to look after me.”
The words made Finn’s stomach turn.
I need you to protect me.
Marie's words echoed through two decades and came out of the mouth of the young boy he was about to leave in the oily clutches of a paedophile. Was he really so selfish?
Yes.
“Come to me, kid,” said the officer. He sounded like he was talking to a dog. Speaking of which, Wonder Mutt was finally out of Finn’s hair as he trotted to Minty's side.
Even that dog has more loyalty than me.
Finn tried to walk away, but his throat constricted and his chest pounded. He put his hands on his knees and bent forwards.
“I said keep walking, unless you want a bullet in your chest!”
Minty changed his tune. “Finn, just go. I'll be all right. I'll... be...” The kid couldn't even finish his own lie.
Finn straightened up, still facing away from the man pointing a gun at the back of his head. “Minty?” he asked. “That promise you made me make about not killing. That just applies to Dominic, right?”
“Right!” Minty shouted back.
“Thought so.” Finn yanked the Ka-Bar from his belt loop and spun around with it in his hand. He slung it underhand as hard as he could and it sailed through the air. The twirling blade missed Minty by a hairsbreadth and buried itself in the police officer’s guts.
A gunshot rang out.
Wonder Mutt yelped.
The officer slumped to his knees, staring at the large combat knife poking out of his belly like it was a puzzle. Finn marched up and seized the rubber grip. He twisted it fiercely before yanking it out with a sickening squelch. He stared into the sicko’s eyes, “Playtime’s over, you sick fuck,” and slashed open his throat. He slumped to the grass, clutching feebly at his torn neck.
Wonder Mutt yelped again, frightened by the sudden gunshot and the ensuing violence. No surprise the little hound was a walking bag of nerves. Finn ignored the dog and looked for Minty. “You okay, kid?” He found him lying in the grass. “Oh shit!”
Minty was facedown and not moving. Finn rolled him over onto his back and saw blood. “Damn it, kid.”
“F-Finn? I think I’ve been… shot.”
“Yeah, no shit. Just... stay calm. I’m gonna take care of it.” He patted Minty down, looking for the source of blood. It seemed to come from high up, and the bloodstain on his t-shirt was darkest over his shoulder. Finn grabbed the collar and yanked it, tearing the thin cotton apart.
A wound glistened over Minty’s collarbone.
“Wait a minute,” said Finn. “I… yes, I think the bullet hit your collarbone and deflected. The bullet never entered your body.”
There were tears in Minty’s eyes. “Then w-why does it hurt so much?”
“Because you took a bullet to the collarbone, you eejit.” He prodded the area with his finger, making the kid cry out. The wound was horrid, and the bone felt chipped, but there was definitely no bullet hole.
Minty's eyes rolled in their sockets. “It hurts.”
“You gotta move, kid. We have to get out of here.”
“I… I can’t…”
Finn looked around—didn't see anyone. The police station was in an empty part of town. There was only the retail park they had left behind them and the industrial section u
p ahead where Latif's was. “Jesus wept! You're a pain in the arse, Minty. Do you know that?”
“Sorry.”
Finn clambered over to the fallen officer and grabbed his gun, adding it to his bloody Ka-Bar. He placed the knife in Minty's trembling hands while keeping the gun for himself. “Hold this.”
Minty moaned as Finn grabbed him around the waist and started dragging him towards the police station. They needed to get into cover before the next sicko appeared and had a go at them. Minty was half-conscious and in no state to move or go anywhere.
How the fuck did I end up having to play hero to this kid?
I’m supposed to be a killer.
Not a hero.
“I guess Dominic will have to wait,” Finn muttered.
Minty didn’t reply because he had passed out. He still clutched the knife Finn had asked him to hold.
Ruins
The police station was cool due to its lack of carpeting and soft furnishings—a welcome relief from the dust and mugginess of outside. It was also dark. Many of the interior corridors lacked windows. A sense of echoing laced the building, and scenes of drunken arrests and interviewing suspects played out in every room.
Finn dumped Minty down on a swivel chair behind a desk in the waiting room. The kid was out cold, the proud owner of a nasty flesh wound, but his bleeding had slowed to a trickle. Finn remembered his own first flesh wound. He’d been drinking at a pub on the southern bank when a bunch of British Paras came in. Finn's buddies took offence to the squaddies, and a fight broke out at last orders. At twenty years old, Finn was no match for a British Paratrooper. Before he even managed to land a punch, he’d found himself lying on the ground with a broken bottle lodged in his thigh. Today, the scar ran an inch long, thick and ugly. It served as a reminder of that day and taught the lesson not to get into fights he couldn't win. It also stoked his ongoing hatred for the British Army.
But the British Army was gone now. It had been weeks since Finn saw a man in fatigues. It didn’t bring him much closure though. In fact, seeing no presence of the Army during a time of such insurmountable crisis was disconcerting.
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 176
