by Casey, Ryan
He lifted the pup up under his arm and hopped out of the car. Stepped into the road. There was a strange air to the place. Reminded him of a scene from Dead Days, one of Eddie’s old favourite shows back in the day. Noah was never really much of a fan, as much as people used to tease him that he and Eddie were basically Riley and Ted, the main characters from that show.
He denied it. But he could kind of see the parallels.
But standing here, on this empty, abandoned motorway, the wind blowing against him, he felt a vulnerability. An urgency. A sudden need to keep on going.
He didn’t want to get trapped here.
He didn’t want to get lost here.
He walked down this road. Passed abandoned cars. Crows flocked around something up in the distance, to his right. He wasn’t sure he wanted to look. Wasn’t sure he needed to. Already knew what he’d find. It’d be what he always found. A body. Dead body.
Certainly hadn’t grown tired of those.
He glanced at it, though, and he noticed something about this body. Something interesting.
The guy. He looked vaguely familiar.
Asian guy. His body had been dragged out by the wolves. Ants crawled across his paling, soil-smeared flesh. A sour odour hung in the air.
Noah wasn’t sure where he’d seen him before, but the familiarity gave him the creeps.
He kept his head down, kept walking. Clutched tightly to this unnamed pup under his arm. The clouds were thickening. Felt like a storm was on its way. Pretty apt.
He thought about what he was going to do when he reached Kelly’s place. How he was going to warn them. How he was going to uproot their world, probably so peaceful.
But also about Eddie.
What was he going to say about Eddie?
What decision would Eddie have made?
Surely the right one as soon as he laid eyes on Kelly again—on his son again?
He kept walking, lost in thought, drifting a little with exhaustion and hunger, when he saw movement up ahead.
He froze.
Got down by a car.
He’d seen someone up there.
Someone walking along.
He couldn’t take any chances. It could be one of Curtis’ people. Or somebody else.
He had to be careful. Had to lay low.
He wasn’t strong enough to take anyone else out.
But at least now, he had a rifle.
He heard those footsteps getting closer. Clutched his rifle. He couldn’t be trigger happy. Didn’t want to do something he regretted here.
But at the same time, he did have to be careful.
The footsteps so close now.
Inching closer.
He held on to the rifle.
Held his breath as those footsteps stopped, right at the other side of the car.
And then he heard a voice.
“I know you’re there, Noah.”
He froze. His heart pounded.
This person.
Whoever it was, they knew his name.
They knew his name, and—
“Don’t shoot me. I’m sick of being betrayed by people I kind of trust.”
He stood, then. Slowly. Uncertain. That voice. Familiar. Very familiar.
He peeped over the top of the car and saw her.
She was bloody.
Bruised.
In a right state.
But he saw a rare smile creep up her face.
“Hello, Noah,” Zelda said.
Chapter Thirty
Eddie lay in bed, stared up at the ceiling, and knew he had to do something.
He was still in the hospital. He couldn’t sleep. He could taste vomit in his mouth. Not just from the experiences he’d been through, but from the guilt. The guilt of what he knew. The guilt of what he knew was coming. How tomorrow, he was going to have to be frank and straight about what he knew—that Curtis’ group were planning on tracking him down, attacking this place, making it their own.
But it wasn’t just that getting to Eddie.
It wasn’t just the constant fear that outside these walls, there were things that threatened his new livelihood. Things that threatened to tear apart everything he’d fought his way back here for.
Everything he’d killed for.
Jane.
Sunil.
Zelda.
How much larger was the body count going to grow?
He squeezed his eyes shut. Clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to think about who else needed to die. He thought of Sunil’s body, decaying and rotting in the sun. What if they found it? What if there was some link to Eddie? He’d already told Kelly he didn’t know where Sunil was, that he hadn’t seen him. How was he going to explain that one?
He heard a shout outside. Flinched every time he heard movement or sound. He couldn’t sleep. No way. Because Marky was out there, too. His body had been moved. If Curtis’ people had gone looking for them both for whatever reason and found Marky, they’d know something was wrong. They’d know Eddie had to be involved somehow.
He didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know how to act.
He just knew he needed to do something.
He turned over in bed. His arm hurt from the gunshot. He looked out at the night sky. The feeling he had inside was like when he stole a Pokedex as a kid. Really, really wanted one for Christmas, but didn’t get his hands on one. Girl called Carla had one in her tray. He liked her, and she liked him, too. He waited til she went to the toilet and then he grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket. And for a moment, he’d felt pure adrenaline. He’d felt sheer delight at what he’d done, as he left school, headed home, beaming grin on his face.
But then he got home, and he felt sick. He couldn’t eat his tea. He couldn’t even play on the Pokedex because he didn’t want his parents to see it. And he didn’t want the guilt to come to him every time he looked at it.
And the worst thing?
Carla’s parents. They were friendly with his. They rang. Asked if he’d seen anything, ’cause he was such a good, well-behaved little kid at this point. Heard Carla in the background of the phone call in tears, wailing her poor little heart out.
He’d gone to bed early. Barely slept. Decided to stuff the Pokedex back in his pocket, headed back into school the following day. Heard a few of the kids talking about who’d nicked it. And then had a big talking to by his teacher, who told them all how they had cameras in the school, and unless it showed up, they’d be forced to bring the police in.
Eddie couldn’t take it anymore. He reached into his pocket, pretended he’d found it behind the bins, and was treated like a hero by the rest of the pupils, and Carla, too.
And yet even at that moment, he couldn’t enjoy it. Because there was too much guilt.
He’d never shaken that guilt. Not really.
He felt it now.
He heard a noise outside. The revving up of an engine.
The sound of a bike getting closer.
His stomach turned.
He got up. Walked over to the window. Peeked outside.
One of the motorbikes was heading in.
Somebody had someone on their shoulder.
Jumped off the bike and came running towards the medical bay.
Eddie got back in bed. Squeezed his eyes shut. Initial relief that it wasn’t Curtis or anyone like that.
But he didn’t want to run into anyone right now. Didn’t want to be dragged into conversation.
The medical room door opened. He heard voices.
“There’s another bed in here,” a man’s voice said. “It’ll do for now.”
And then the door to his room creaked open.
Someone came in. Planted that man on the bed beside him.
And then walked out of the room.
Left the pair of them alone.
It was then that Eddie heard a noise.
A slight chuckle.
He turned around. Peeked through his eyes.
And then h
e saw it.
Gregg. One of Curtis’ guys.
Smile on his face.
“Hello, Eddie,” he said. “How you doing?”
Eddie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure what to do. How to react. His first instinct was to go over there. Smother him. Kill him in his sleep. ’Cause him being here was dangerous. It was a threat. It could tear everything apart.
But then Gregg lifted the covers and revealed a knife.
“Hear Marky had a bit of a fall,” he said. “Funny, that. So Curtis sent me over. Sent me to make sure you stay in line.”
For a moment, time stood still.
And then Gregg jumped out of bed and went to bury the knife into Eddie’s chest.
Chapter Thirty-One
“You look terrible,” Zelda said.
Noah raised his eyebrows as he walked down the road, Zelda by his side, puppy-dog under his arm. “You don’t exactly look at your best, either.”
Zelda shrugged. “Yeah, well. While you’ve been cooped up inside a nice little shipping container, I’ve been fighting people to the death.”
“How was that?”
“Easier than I’d like to admit.”
Noah nodded. He could get that. The anger. The rage. Truth be told, though, Zelda didn’t look good at all. Bleeding from her head. Battered, bruised, even skinnier than he remembered. She looked pale. But mostly, she looked possessed by something. Possessed by something on her mind.
“I’m guessing you’re heading the same place as I am?” Noah asked.
Zelda smiled. “I guess.”
“Curtis’ group. They’re not going to stop. We need to get there fast. We need to warn them. And they aren’t going to like what they’re going to hear. No group wants someone walking in and upturning their way of life, even if it’s for the right reasons.”
“I don’t give a fuck right now, frankly.”
“What?”
“I care about Kelly. Of course I do. But… but right now, I’ve got something else on my mind.”
She looked at Noah almost accusingly. Like she blamed him for something.
“Your friend. Eddie. I’m going to give him what’s coming to him.”
Noah frowned. “Eddie? I mean, I’d hardly say we’re friends anymore. But the moment he realises it’s Kelly there, he won’t harm them. That’s literally the only positive thing I’m going off right now. I—”
“He killed Marky,” Zelda said. “He killed that other guy, too. The one from the place. Asian dude. I think he had it in his head that if he could cut ties with anyone who knew about him, he could move forward. Start again.”
Noah opened his mouth. “But—”
“And then he attacked me. I should’ve killed him, but I was stupid, and I was weak. He attacked me. Threw me to the bottom of a well. Left me for dead. Figure I was just another reminder of his past. Seems like he really, really doesn’t want his baby mama knowing the truth about what kind of a monster he really is, hmm?”
Noah couldn’t process what he was hearing. He knew what Eddie had done to Jane. He’d never forgive him for it. But he knew it had to come from the pressure of the moment. The desperation of not wanting to shoot his best friend.
But this…
“This isn’t… this isn’t Eddie.”
Zelda snorted. “Well, you better face it, sunshine. Your boy’s changed. And there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me serving a sweet, fat can of justice on his flabby arse. Unless you throw me to the bottom of a well too. But I really wouldn’t recommend that right now.”
“No. Don’t worry. No more wells.”
“I appreciate it. Truly.”
They kept walking down the road. The pup wriggled around under Noah’s arm. Night surrounded them now. Silence but their footsteps. That cool smell that always follows a warm day, comforting, calming.
They were getting closer.
Closer to Kelly’s.
And what was already a complex mission to warn those people, to get them out of that place and somewhere safe—it had suddenly taken on a different form entirely with Zelda’s admission about Eddie.
What was he supposed to do with his best friend?
He knew he was stupid. Naive, even, for considering he might change again.
But now he knew what he knew, how could he stand in Zelda’s way?
“They deserve each other,” Zelda said. “Curtis and Eddie. I just hope Eddie doesn’t realise guys like Curtis get bored of guys like him, eventually. ’Cause when he does realise, I want it to be an extra nice surprise. Something that really, truly fucks him up.”
Noah saw the smile on Zelda’s face, and he wanted to tell her to stop. That this wasn’t a road they had to go down.
But he knew she was right.
“Eddie will get what’s coming to him,” Noah said. “One way or another.”
“Trust me. There’s only one way he’s getting what’s coming to him. And it ends with him in little pieces.”
Noah swallowed a sickly lump in his throat.
He looked at the road ahead.
Noah should feel relieved he wasn’t alone anymore. He should feel happy. They’d got here before Curtis, it seemed. That had to be some cause for celebration.
But there was an opposing force.
A guilt about what was coming.
A fear about the storm brewing on the horizon.
“Come on,” Zelda said, walking on. “Let’s go finish this shit, once and for all.”
Live together, die together.
He took a deep breath and swallowed a lump in his throat.
Sometimes, the rules had to be broken.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Curtis loved the night.
He walked down the empty roads. Felt the cool breeze against his skin. The night was so calming. So peaceful. So damned beautiful, in all truth.
And those footsteps behind him. Those footsteps following him.
The sound of his people. Every last one of them.
Making their way to their new home.
Following their leader.
He looked back at his group. There were a lot of them. He felt proud as hell. A couple of hundred of them, a little more. He’d explained the situation to them. Told them he was worried. Especially after Marky turned up dead—and some other guy, too.
It looked like Eddie was jumping ship for whatever reason. Which was a shame, but he should never have trusted that little weasel.
And now he had no damned clue what Eddie had told these people. If he’d warned them or whatever.
He just knew he had to act while the goddamned iron was hot.
He’d sent Gregg in. Told him to take Eddie out, and to do whatever the hell he could to make things easier for Curtis and his people.
’Cause one thing was for sure.
He wanted to make these people at Westfield kneel.
Well. He wanted to kill the bulk of them and make the rest kneel.
He wanted them to serve.
“Curtis, the kids, they’re—they’re struggling.”
Curtis stopped. Malc stood by his side. He didn’t look happy. “What about ’em?”
“The children. I’m… One of them is sick. Nosebleeds. It doesn’t look good.”
Curtis looked around. Beyond his people, he saw the line of slaves. The women. The beautiful women, chained, blindfolded, gagged.
And then the kids.
They were down to just eight kids now. The kids were tricky ones in all truth. He liked having ’em around, but truth be told, he wasn’t sure what their purpose was anymore. Sometimes he could use ’em to draw innocents in. Playing to a woman’s heart using kids was always an easy thing to do.
But he’d got bored of that approach. And there just wasn’t as many people around here anymore.
Fact was, he figured he’d just raise ’em into fighters. ’Cause he couldn’t kill them and dump them. There was some kind of order, after all.
But he looked back where Malc was po
inting. Saw one of the lads on his knees. The ginger guy. Bleeding nose. Looked weak. Awful weak. Wheezing. Coughing.
And something about it gave Curtis the damned creeps.
Reminded him of the goddamned dead as a dodo virus that was circling around all those months ago.
He walked over to the boy. Saw him bleeding badly. On his knees. Coughing. Spluttering.
“Please,” he said. “I just… I need Mum. I need Mum.”
And Curtis felt bad for this lad. It was the lad who’d kept him warm a few nights ago. And that thought made him sick, in all truth.
’Cause if he had some sort of sickness… Curtis could have it too.
And Curtis was a goddamned germaphobe.
“I think we should let him go,” Malc said. “Let him go his own way. If he’s sick, we can’t have it spreading amongst our people.”
Curtis looked at the kid.
He wanted to kill him right here.
Put him down.
But they’d never forgive him for that.
Funny, isn’t it? They let women scrap for heroin. They let kids be used as pawns.
But kill one, and suddenly you’re Adolf goddamned Hitler.
“I agree, actually,” Curtis said. “Cut him loose. Let the rabbit run, hmm?”
The kid looked up at Curtis. “I don’t… I don’t feel well. Please.”
“Kid, you’re not sticking around with us and passing on any of those nasty-ass germs. So, you’ve got a choice. You walk away. Or you don’t. Please don’t make us pick that second option right now.”
The kid looked up at Curtis, right into his eyes.
And then he nodded.
“Good,” Curtis said. “Malc, you know what to do. Cut the lad free.”
Curtis watched as Malc cut the boy free.
He watched as the boy stood there, cuffs cut, alone, separate from the rest of the group now.
“Now go on, kiddo. You know what you’ve gotta do.”
He looked at the group. Looked at Curtis.
And then he started walking away.
And then running.
And before he knew it, the kid was gone.
But as Curtis stood there, his people walking again now, he got a bad feeling about that kid.
There was something about the look in his eyes when he’d walked away.
