by Casey, Ryan
She could hear him getting more aroused, more excited.
She felt his lips and tongue move up to her neck, felt his tiny cock push against her inside his jeans, rub against her, and she saw him look into her eyes.
She knew she could kill him right here.
She knew she’d have no problem executing him on the spot. Ripping his throat out. Gouging his eyes out.
But instead, she grabbed him by the waist. Held on. Tight.
And she pulled him closer to her.
She felt it all at once in one horrible, strange moment.
And then she saw something else.
Something she wasn’t expecting.
Michael backed off. Stepped away. Shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry.”
He threw his clothes back on.
Went to walk over to the door of the shipping container.
Zelda frowned. Still a little baffled by the whole turn of events. “Something wrong?”
He looked around at her. A sadness to his face now.
“I’m just not who they want me to be,” he said.
And then he pulled out a knife.
He walked over towards Zelda, and Zelda felt her heart racing. ’Cause that’s what this was. He was some kind of freak. Some kind of lunatic who wanted to hurt her. Who wanted to cause her pain.
He crouched opposite her. Knife in hand. Sour breath making her gag.
And then he opened her hand and put the knife in it.
“You’re gonna hold on to that. And tonight, when you hear a whistle, give it five minutes, and that’ll be your time. You’re gonna use that knife to crack the lock in the door of this thing. The doors, they’re heavy. But the locks, they’re weak. You can get to it from this side. I… I don’t know if I’ll be there. Where I’ll be. But you have to do this, Zelda. You have to trust me. And again. I’m sorry.”
He pecked her on the cheek.
Then he stood up and walked away, over to the shipping container door.
“Why are you helping me?” Zelda asked.
Michael stopped. He looked back at her, and she saw sadness in his eyes. “’Cause I’m sick of seeing good people die. And if you stay here, you are going to die. Probably very soon.”
He held that gaze, just for a moment.
And then he turned away, stepped outside, and closed the shipping container door.
Zelda sat there against the wall. Knife in hand. Heart racing. In total disbelief.
But certain of one thing.
She was getting out of this place.
And she was making sure she got her revenge before she went anywhere.
Even if it killed her.
Chapter Nine
When Eddie heard Curtis and Marky approaching his home, he knew trouble was on the horizon.
It was late afternoon. Eddie felt a little ropey. He just wanted to spend some time on his own, away from everyone else. He was an introvert by nature, really. Needed time to recharge every now and then.
But now more than ever, he felt that urge to retreat. To disappear.
Mostly because he couldn’t bear to look the people around him in the eye and pretend he was totally on board with any of this shit anymore.
But when Curtis and Marky appear at your door, you don’t just turn them away. They knocked. Which was polite, but really, if he didn’t answer, they’d just kick the door in, no doubt about that.
So Eddie spared them the ordeal and walked over to the door to let them in.
Curtis’ smile beamed the second he saw Eddie. “Eddie! Funnyman! How you doing, partner? Feels an age since we spoke, huh?”
Eddie nodded. Rubbed the back of his neck. “Something like that. Do you want to—”
“A beer would be good. Got any beers stashed in here? I’ll bet you do, huh. One for Marky, too. You know my type. Non-alcoholic.”
Eddie nodded and walked over to the cooler beside his bed. He pulled a couple of beers out. Didn’t really want one himself but grabbed one anyway. He didn’t want them to think he was out of sorts or anything. Best to just play along. To just go along with everything.
He handed the blokes a beer each as they sat at his table. And then he stood there, rather awkwardly, beer in hand, while they relaxed.
He got that feeling, then. The feeling he always got when Curtis visited his place. The sense that this wasn’t his place at all.
And that feeling was growing by the day.
“Ain’t it about time you got yourself a woman around here, huh?” Curtis asked.
Eddie sipped his beer. “I’m a man who likes his space.”
Curtis snorted like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Hear that, Marky? Eddie-boy here likes his space.”
Marky didn’t laugh. He didn’t react at all. Eddie didn’t like Marky, and he got the feeling it was mutual. Whereas Curtis was all performance and bravado, Marky was the silent one pulling the strings. The Wormtongue to Curtis’ Saruman. The Littlefinger to Curtis’ Sansa.
And there was something with Marky that just felt… well, different. A sense that they both knew what the other knew about the other. A sense of distrust. Of uncertainty.
No respect at all.
Just suspicion.
“Anyway,” Curtis said. “We ain’t here to shoot the shit. You probably figured that much by now. We’re here ’cause Marky here tells me there’s a problem. And when there’s a problem, it needs fixin’ pretty fast, don’t you think?”
Eddie’s gut lurched. “What kind of problem?”
“A people problem,” Curtis said. “A home problem. This place. It ain’t lookin’ like it’s feasible in the long-run, or whatever. People are dyin’. The kids, they’re scared out of their goddamned minds. Food’s runnin’ low. Soon enough, if we don’t sort our shit out, we’re gonna lose everything good we got here. Ain’t that right, Marky?”
Marky nodded. Kept his eyes squarely on Eddie. “That’s how it’s looking.”
“So that’s where you come in,” Curtis said.
Eddie frowned. Sipped some more of that awful, gassy beer. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Curtis’ smile widened. “We found a place, Eddie. We found a goddamned perfect place. But that place. It ain’t gonna be easy to take. There’s people there. Plenty o’ people. So we’ve got two options. First, we go in like a sledgehammer. But that’s risky. A lot of our people ain’t gonna be too keen either. So then there’s option two. The long-game. We send a spy in there. See what the setup is there. Then we drip more and more people in, gradually, until… well. You know the Trojan Horse story, right?”
“I’m familiar with it, yeah. Quite a barnstormer.”
Curtis laughed. “I’m not. But I get the gist. We send people inside that place. And we take it when we’ve got enough numbers there. Not through brute force. But stealth. I love stealth. Fuckin’ love it.”
He stood up, then. Dragged the chair back. Walked right over to Eddie. Put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s your lucky day, matey. I want you to be the one to check that place out properly. Our spy.”
Eddie frowned. “I’m still not sure I—”
“I want you to go there,” Curtis said. “I want you to spy on ’em. Figure out their strengths. Figure out their weaknesses. And when you know enough about ’em, you come back here, and you tell us. And then we decide just how much brute force we can handle. Or just how much stealth we need. Then we know which approach to take. Sound good?”
Eddie felt his knees shake. He looked at Marky, then back at Curtis. “I’m not entirely sure why you’d pick me.”
“I pick you ’cause I trust you,” Curtis said, hand tightening on Eddie’s shoulder. “That friend of yours, too. Noah, huh? How about… Well. How about we make a bit of a deal?”
Eddie’s jaw clenched. “He’s not… he’s not my friend—”
“Oh, don’t kid yerself, sport. Just ’cause you guys had a little disagreement don’t mean you ca
n’t work past it. See, Noah’s been well behaved. Very well behaved. He’s served his time. And I’m thinkin’ if you complete this mission… maybe we can start lettin’ Noah have a little more freedom, hmm? Maybe even let you and him hang out some more.”
Eddie wanted that. He wanted to see Noah. He wanted to know he was okay.
As much as he was sure Noah would despise him.
But he heard the other side of the deal, too. The kicker. The kicker that they wanted him to leave this place. They wanted him to spy.
“What if… if something happens?” Eddie asked.
Curtis frowned. “Don’t quite understand, Eddie-boy.”
“If they—if they figure me out. If they work out I’m spying. Or whatever. What happens then?”
Curtis didn’t say anything. He just smiled. Those awful yellow teeth on show.
“I mean, attacking this place directly. That’s somethin’ we could do. That’s definitely on the table. But I’d rather it not be, like, blind as a bat. I’d rather know exactly what we’re dealing with first, hmm? At least that way we’ll have way more info on them than we do right now.”
“But if I get found out,” Eddie said.
Curtis paused. Smiled. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen for all our sakes, huh?”
He turned away, then. Walked over to Marky’s side.
“Marky can lead you halfway tomorrow mornin’ first thing. You’re gonna have to say you were livin’ with some group, and they kicked you out. I dunno. Be creative. Sure you’ll figure somethin’ out, clever guy like you. But if you get there. If you make it… Well, you’ll be a king when we move in, Eddie. An absolute king. How does that sound?”
Eddie felt torn. Again. On the one hand, he didn’t like this. He felt like his life was on a knife-edge. Like time was running out.
And on the other…
Living like a king.
It appealed to him.
’Cause he was a coward. A guilt-laced coward who’d do any damned thing if it meant survival.
Maybe it was the only way.
“What do you say?” Curtis asked.
Eddie looked at Marky’s wide eyes.
Then he looked back at Curtis, and he nodded.
“I’ll do it,” he said.
Curtis’ smile beamed. “Good lad. Get yourself some rest, partner. You got a big day ahead of you.”
Chapter Ten
“I just don’t get why you have to go, Sunil. Why it has to be you all the time.”
Kelly stood opposite Sunil by the car rank, Edward in her arms. It was early. So early, she could hear the chorus of birdsong. The smell of gasoline filled the air, reminded her of her dad’s garage when she was a kid. There was always an air of silence over Westfield at this time, too. A peaceful solitude that Kelly actually quite liked being awake to enjoy. Which felt weird to admit, considering she used to be such a sucker for staying in bed as late as possible. Turned out Baby Edward had changed far more about her than she’d ever care to admit.
But she always got up early when she knew Sunil was going out on a scouting mission. Always came over to make sure she said goodbye to him, or whatever.
Because as much as he insisted these trips were safe, and as much as every damned trip he’d taken so far had proven safe… she always worried it might just be the last time she ever saw him.
And that wasn’t a thought she enjoyed.
Sunil smiled at her. He was wearing his usual gear: grey vest top, green chino shorts, white trainers. And as always, he had that smile on his face. That confident smile like he knew everything was going to be okay.
“Kelly, seriously,” he said. “You know how these missions always go. We go out. We find one or two people. We bring them back here. The people who’re left out there, the ones on their own, they’re good people. And the ones who aren’t… well, we steer clear of them. Simple as that.”
Kelly sighed and lowered her head.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I just keep thinking.”
“Thinking what?”
“Thinking… thinking what I’d do if these bikes turn up one day and you’re not here with them.”
Sunil sighed. He reached over. Put a hand on Kelly’s shoulder. “You know I can’t make any promises like that. Not really.”
“And that’s what scares me,” Kelly said. “There’s no promise. No guarantee. And I…”
“You what?”
“I just… I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you disappear, too.”
“Is this about Eddie?”
Kelly looked at Sunil. “What?”
“Eddie. What happened to him, Kelly. I keep telling you. It was… it was two months ago now. Eddie made that choice. It wasn’t anything you did. It wasn’t anything you could or couldn’t control. Eddie made that decision. And it’s a decision he has to live with. So don’t let it torture you. Don’t beat yourself up over it. That’s not a road you want to go down. Believe me.”
Kelly lowered her head. She knew Sunil was right. Eddie had made his decision. He’d made his bed. She should let him lie the fuck in it. She knew her old self would’ve done, that was for sure.
But it was about time she stopped clinging to her old self. ’Cause she wasn’t the same person. Not anymore.
She might feel weaker, somehow. She might feel less capable. She might feel burdened by the fact she had a kid to look after now. A kid to raise and protect.
But she couldn’t keep letting it hold her back.
“I know you can’t make any promises,” Kelly said. “And I’m sorry if it seems like it’s … like it’s all about Eddie. But it’s not.”
She looked Sunil in the eye, then, and she felt her heart flicker.
Sunil leaned over. Pecked her on the cheek. Then backed away, averting his gaze like a nervous teenager.
“Sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have to apologise. You can do it again if you want.”
He looked back up at her. Half-smiled. His eyes so friendly. So homely. So adoring. “Maybe I will, someday. If I’m lucky. But for now, you keep on being that kickass, amazing mother you are. And who knows? When I get back here, maybe I can bring Baby Edward a present.”
Kelly smiled at Sunil. She liked him, of course she did. She felt stupid that she was allowing herself to be so driven by her likes and dislikes. She remembered reading some shit about how a stereotype of women, particularly in fiction, was that all they were interested in were men.
But wasn’t that true for men, too? Men didn’t sit down with their lad mates and talk about superficial bullshit.
They spoke about who they wanted to fuck.
What was so wrong about that?
Sunil walked over to the motorbike. It was an old Yamaha. They’ve found a few in a garage down the road a couple of weeks back. Certainly made their scouting missions a whole lot easier.
He climbed on it. Pulled on his helmet. “I’ll be back,” he said.
“Nice one, Arnie.”
“Seriously,” he said. “You won’t even know I’ve gone. You’ll turn around and see me, and you’ll be like, ‘Shit, Sunil’s here already? I was kind of getting used to life without him.’”
Kelly laughed. “I’d like that. But you’re really dragging this goodbye out now.”
“Is that you telling me to get lost?”
“Don’t stick around to find out,” Kelly said.
Sunil sat there. Beside him, two others—Paula, Steve. Kitted up on bikes and ready to depart in the morning sun.
“I’ll see you when I see you,” Sunil said, looking into Kelly’s eyes, before pulling that visor down over his face.
“Come back in once piece,” Kelly said.
“I’ll try my best.”
And then he revved up the bike, and in a mass of noise, the three of them disappeared, down the street, down towards the gates of their community, and then out into the open.
A cold breeze hit Kelly as she stood ther
e, watching the trail of smoke extending behind the group. In her arms, Baby Edward started to cry.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go get you fed.”
She looked up into the distance as she headed back home.
One moment, Sunil was there.
And then just like that, he was gone.
Kelly never saw Sunil again.
Chapter Eleven
Noah heard a clang outside the shipping container door and wasn’t sure whether he was imagining things or not.
He opened his eyes. He’d been dreaming. Jane, again. The same, recurring dream he had every night. She was sinking. Falling into the ground. Slipping into a void. He wanted to reach in there. He wanted to drag her out. He wanted to help her.
But the more he tried, the more she slipped in.
The more this black, tar-like substance stuck to her pale, sweaty skin.
And the more his guilt grew.
Because it was his fault.
And then he opened his eyes, still in this weird, mixed state of consciousness, still drifting in and out of this dream, and he saw her staring back at him.
Jane’s head. That terrified stare etched across it. Hanging there in the water, illuminated by the light. Jagged fleshy edges around her throat.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t like reminders like this. Reminders of what had happened. He had enough reminders in his sleep. He knew what he’d done, what he was responsible for, and that was part of the problem. He already had to live with the guilt. He didn’t need Jane’s actual decapitated head to stare back at him to remind him of that.
So, he lay there, eyes sore and itchy. His body felt weak, weaker than ever before. Same pattern every day in all truth. He wondered when the day would arrive that he didn’t wake up. He wondered how he actually felt about that. Obviously, the thought of death was terrifying. And he wasn’t a quitter. He wasn’t someone who just gave up. Wasn’t in his nature. He’d learned that enough at this point.
But maybe it wasn’t always about fighting or hanging in there or not giving up or whatever.
Maybe sometimes, it was about something far deeper than that.
