by Ryan Casey
What the hell was she doing wandering off into the middle of nowhere, anyway? He’d followed her prints right down this country lane, and then they’d just stopped, in the middle of nowhere. Rex didn’t seem to be having much more luck, either. Sniffing the ground, ears low. Uninterested.
Max sighed. Looked up ahead. He wondered what this was about. She’d gone storming off, out of the estate. Right after Hailey kissed him.
Could it be what he thought it was?
What he’d been denying for ages?
That there was undoubtedly something there between them, and she felt… what, jealous, maybe?
He shook his head. At the end of the day, they were friends. Good friends. And that’s how things had to stay between them.
But what’s so wrong with trying something else? Really?
He shook his head again. Better get rid of that damned thought fast. Not a road he wanted to be going down.
Speaking of roads… he knew he needed to stop fucking around here and actually get cracking on.
He walked further down this country lane. Still no signs of prints. Fuck, she wasn’t much further ahead of him before. Where’d she got to?
He wanted to moan that this wasn’t how he wanted to spend his birthday, but that was bullcrap. It was exactly how he wanted to spend his birthday.
Sure, he got on well with the people at the estate. He had friends there now, and he wasn’t blindly pushing people away anymore.
But there was something about being alone, with Rex, in the great outdoors.
And there was something even better about it when Aoife was with him.
Damn it, Max. Stop being a sentimental old git.
Just find the girl and get her home.
Find her and enjoy your birthday.
He kept on walking further down this road. Beside him, he saw the woodlands emerging. Heard the wind against the trees. Made him feel a little uneasy. Those woods looked just like the one the whole charade with Christopher went on in six months ago. Seemed like forever ago.
He thought of how things concluded. How weird it all was. They hadn’t had any problems with any of Christopher’s people since Aoife and a few of the others had taken them away.
And sometimes, Max wondered.
He wondered exactly what’d happened.
But he never pushed Aoife for an answer. Never pried.
Even if it did keep him awake at night sometimes.
He went to follow the road off to the right when he noticed something.
There was an opening in the hedge on his left.
Someone had been through there.
He walked over to it, and he smiled.
There were footprints right across the field.
About the size of Aoife’s.
“Well,” Max said. “Looks like we’re on her trail again, huh, Rex?”
Rex wagged his tail.
“Good dog. Good dog.”
They climbed over the fence into the field. And as Max walked through it, he felt vulnerable. Exposed. And he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that someone was watching him.
“It’d be typical, wouldn’t it, boy? For me to croak it on my birthday. Bloody typical.”
Rex didn’t seem interested. Just sniffed the ground. Stupid bugger.
Max followed these footsteps through the field. Followed them right through to a small town called Longridge. Nice little place. Real community feel to it. Didn’t seem like anyone was here, either. Which was always a relief. Didn’t want to run into any stragglers today. Although most outsiders were honest in their intentions, running into a rival group always brought its problems.
At the end of the day, supplies were scarce. So too was trust.
Better to just hunker down and keep within your own.
He walked down the hill towards the main stretch of Longridge. He’d lost track of Aoife now, but it wasn’t a big place, so there’d definitely be a sign of her somewhere.
Abandoned cars stuck in the middle of the road.
Crows swooping down.
Shuttered up buildings and smashed glass.
But no sign of Aoife.
Max walked down the street. Everything was so quiet. He looked at every building, at every store. But no sign. Nothing.
“Aoife?” he called.
His voice echoed through the street. And he felt an idiot for shouting. If there was someone else here… then he didn’t exactly want to draw attention to himself.
He looked around, and his heart started to pick up. He could feel it thumping away. There was no sign of her. Maybe she’d gone back. Maybe she’d not come down here. Maybe the footprints weren’t hers at all.
He kept on going. Saw a rat scuttle across the street.
Saw movement up ahead. Movement that looked… well, not human, anyway. Probably dogs. Had to be careful with dogs.
He kept on walking through this empty street when he went past a library. The stench of something dead up on the slope, crows gathered around it.
“Doesn’t look like she’s here, boy,” Max said. “Doesn’t look…”
He stopped.
On the road, he saw something.
A boat.
A big model boat, right in the middle of the street.
On top of it, blood.
Fresh blood.
His stomach turned.
Aoife’s blood?
The boat.
It all seemed too much of a coincidence.
Something had happened to her.
Something had…
He heard a growl. Rex.
“What is it, boy?”
When he looked around, he saw exactly what the issue was.
There was a pack of six mean and hungry-looking dogs.
And they were snarling and growling right at Max and Rex.
Chapter Seven
Max saw the pack of six dogs up the street and knew he was in deep shit.
They looked nasty. Snarling away. Hard to tell the breed too because they’d mostly lost their fur. Their ribs were on show. They looked hungry. Hungry and cold.
Max liked dogs. Rex had certainly converted him on that front. He never liked it when he ended up having to deal with them because at the end of the day, they were someone’s pet, once upon a time.
But he had to detach from that shit now. Because they were nasty, and they were hungry, and they would go to any lengths to make sure they got what they wanted.
Just like people.
Rex snarled and growled. Which was the last thing Max wanted him to do now, much as he appreciated his loyalty. Any sign of aggression would only set this pack off.
Really, what Max needed to do was get the hell away from here.
Fast.
He lowered his eyes. Didn’t want to look at these dogs directly.
And he held up a hand, too. Raised an arm to show he wasn’t a threat. That he was just keeping his distance, minding his own business, and that he wasn’t intruding on their space.
He could hear them barking. Growling.
See them moving towards him. Slowly.
“Come on,” he muttered. “Just let me and my lad go. There’s a dead dog up there on the slope. You lot go see to that.”
But the dogs didn’t seem to hear.
In fact, quite the opposite.
Three of them lunged forward.
Ran in Max and Rex’s direction.
“Fuck,” Max said. “No time to waste now, boy. We need to run.”
He spun around. Ran. Rex by his side.
Behind, the rest of the dogs chased.
Predatory instincts kicking in.
Max looked around. They needed to get in somewhere the dogs couldn’t get. He could grab his knife, use that on them. But he couldn’t take all of them down. Maybe one or two, but six? No chance.
He looked over his shoulder.
Mean bastards nipping at his heels.
He didn’t have long to find somewhere.
He looked a
round and saw a model shop on the left.
The window was smashed.
“In through there,” he shouted.
He ran towards it. Clambered over the window, felt a nick on his palm. Broken glass. Fuck.
He climbed in there and turned around when he saw something that filled him with dread.
Rex was standing by the window.
Holding his ground.
Barking at these other dogs.
Protecting Max.
“Rex,” Max said. “Come on!”
But Rex stood his ground.
Kicking back.
Hackles right up.
Six dogs surrounding him. All their attention on him, now. Not Max.
“Rex!”
But Rex didn’t turn around.
He didn’t even look at Max.
It was like he was giving him a chance.
A chance to get the hell through this shop to somewhere safe.
A chance to get away.
“Come on, boy,” Max said. “I’m not losing you.”
But then he saw the way Rex turned around.
He saw the way he looked into Max’s eyes.
That loyalty.
There was no fear there.
There was only protectiveness.
That protective instinct.
He wanted to help Max.
He wanted to save him.
“Fuck,” Max said. “Fuck.”
He went to back away when he saw one of the dogs take a leap at Rex.
He heard Rex yelp.
And he knew he couldn’t let this happen.
He tightened his grip around his knife.
Threw himself out of the window, grabbing a long shard of glass in the process.
He landed on the dog on top of Rex.
Disassociated himself from it.
Stabbed it right in the neck.
Felt the warm blood.
Heard the yelp and the cry.
And then he heard the frenzy getting louder.
Heard those barks.
Felt those teeth biting him.
But he was taking it.
He was taking it because he didn’t want Rex taking it.
Rex was willing to die for him, so he was willing to die for Rex.
He swung his knife and the broken glass around waywardly. Blood splattering all over him. The taste of metal in the air.
Kept on swinging, kept on stabbing.
Kept on telling himself these weren’t dogs.
These weren’t people’s pets.
They were just something in the way.
Something trying to attack him.
Something trying to hurt Rex.
Something doing him harm.
He kept swinging at them as he felt the bites on his body burning, stinging, when he noticed something.
They’d stopped.
There was just one left now.
It was one he hadn’t noticed before. A little one. West Highland Terrier, by the looks of things. It had all its fur, some of which was splattered with the red blood of the other dogs. Reminded him of a movie he’d seen once. Game Night. Funny film.
He looked at this westie as it stood there. All around Max, the twitching bodies of dogs. All over the place, blood.
Rex by his side. Growling. Bleeding a little on his back where he’d been bitten, but not bad. Still okay.
He looked at this Westie and held his knife in hand.
Willing to do anything if it meant protecting Rex.
“Go on,” Max said. “Walk away. This ain’t your fight.”
The westie stood there. Stubborn little mutt. Growling. Like it could still win this fight.
“You’re outnumbered here. And I won’t hold back. I promise I won’t hold back.”
He noticed something, then. This name tag on the dog’s neck. Pebbles. Seemed vaguely familiar; he wasn’t sure why. Maybe he’d known a guy with a dog called Pebbles once upon a time. Come to think of it … it might’ve been a westie.
“Go on, Pebbles. Whatever kind of daft name is that anyway? Get your arse out of here. There’ll be plenty more food for you.”
But then something weird happened.
Pebbles lowered her ears.
Came walking up to Max.
And right up to Rex, too.
Wagging her little tail.
Max sighed. Rex sniffed her a bit, and she sniffed him. To be honest, Rex seemed keener on her than she was him.
But she was okay.
She’d learned her lesson.
Been put in her place.
Max looked around at the bloodied mass of twitching dogs.
Looked at the bites all over him.
And then he looked at the two dogs beside him, then at the empty streets of Longridge.
That’s when the real problem hit him again.
There was no sign of Aoife.
She was gone.
And he had no idea where.
Chapter Eight
When Max got back to the estate, he had a thin slither of hope that Aoife might’ve just made her way back here and that he was on the wrong track all along.
But there was no sign of her.
He stood by the gate. Rex was over in the kennels now, which he enjoyed, helping the new dog Pebbles settle in. She was actually quite sweet, truth be told. He tried to ignore the fact he was covered in the dried blood of the dogs he’d butchered on the road. At least the pair of them were alive.
“You’re saying she just vanished?”
“I told you. I followed her prints to Longridge. But there’s no sign of her there. No sign but her blood.”
Geoff sighed. He was a bit of a miserable bastard, truth be told, but he was okay. The kind of bloke Max was used to running into back when he was a bouncer or in the police. Fat, bald, and always had a penchant for drinking far much more than he was capable of handling and causing trouble because of it.
But he’d softened these last few months. Kicked off every now and then when shit hit the fan. But when things were good, he was a decent bloke to have on side.
He stood there, hammer in hand. He’d been helping work on the east wall and didn’t exactly seem best pleased that Max had dragged him down from it. “You know what Aoife’s like. She’s always wandering off.”
“But not like this,” Max said.
“And that’s because you found her blood. And some boat. Right.”
“Look,” Max said. “I know how it sounds. The blood was fresh. And the boat… I think it’s a birthday thing, maybe. I don’t know.”
“Max,” Geoff said. “She’s not a kid. She’s gone walking off before. It’s like I said. You know how she is.”
“But not fucking like this, Geoff,” Max snapped. “And not… not on my birthday.”
Geoff’s face dropped. He looked surprised by Max’s outburst. He put down the hammer, walked a little closer to Max. “Look. If you’re properly worried about her… we can get a small team and go out there. But truth be told we’re pretty stretched here, and I’m not sure there’s gonna be many volunteers to go searching for Aoife on a hunch if you don’t mind me sayin’.”
“I don’t need many,” Max said. “I don’t need anybody. I was just hoping for a bit of support, that’s all. But fuck it. I’ll go myself.”
“Go where?”
Max heard the voice from behind, and his stomach sank. Hailey.
“Hailey,” he said. “It’s… it’s Aoife. She’s gone missing.”
He expected some jealous streak to show itself again, especially after before. But she looked genuinely concerned. “Gone… gone missing?”
“She went walking down towards Longridge. I got there, and I… I found some trace of her. But she’s gone. No sign of her. I think something bad’s happened.”
Hailey walked up to him. Put a hand on his arm, then pulled it away, clearly not trying to be too forward. “Well, have you sorted out any search parties? Anything like that?”
Max loo
ked at Geoff, who rolled his eyes, shrugged. “Look,” Geoff said. “I like Aoife too. She’s a good person. Gave me a right kick up the arse when I needed it six months ago. One I didn’t know I needed. But I’m just saying, I think you’re all overreacting a bit here. But if you want to go searching for her… Hell, be my guest.”
Max sighed. He wasn’t going to get Geoff on board. He got his hesitation, really. But he wished he could be less of a dick about all this.
“I’ll come with you.”
Max looked around.
Hailey.
“Hailey…”
“I know I haven’t been outside much. I know I’m a farm girl. But I… I want to help.”
“You don’t know how to…”
“Look after myself? That what you’re going to say?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, maybe I don’t know the things you know. But I know one thing. I’m not letting you go wandering out there into something dangerous and risking your life on your own. I won’t have it.”
Wow. She was being really sweet about this. Which made Max feel even more of a dick about earlier.
“It’s your birthday,” Hailey said. “And the last thing you’re going to be doing is going out there on your own.”
“I appreciate that, Hailey. Really. But I can’t—”
“You can. And you will. Question is, is Geoff here going to help us?”
Geoff looked at Max, then at Hailey, then back at Max again.
“Oh, whatever,” he said, grabbing his hammer. “Got me with that whole birthday emotional blackmail shit. What do you want, too? A fucking cake? Candles?”
“That would be appreciated,” Max said.
“Come on then,” Geoff said. “I’ll have a word with a few of the lads. See if they’ll join us. But trust me, mate. They ain’t exactly gonna be queuing up to find her.”
“Find who?”
The voice made Max jump.
When he turned around to the gate, he saw her, and he felt a whole wave of emotions.
Relief.
Anger.
The whole damned lot.
“Aoife?”
Aoife sauntered towards the entrance. She had blood on her arms. Looked like she’d been bitten. “Yeah?”
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Whoah,” she said. “I went to find a present for you. Ended up running into some vicious dogs. Might have to get these stitched up. But hey. Here you go. Happy birthday. It wasn’t my first choice of gift, but I hope you like it.”
