by Casey, Ryan
Jack’s stomach turned. He’d eaten burned squirrel far too often.
He looked around again. Looked at his people. Hands still tight around the rifle. The urge to take this group before him out still high.
And then he took a deep breath.
Swallowed a lump in his throat.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “But we can’t—”
“We’d love to.”
Jack turned.
Candice stepped forward.
She walked over to the man. Held out a hand.
“Candice,” she said.
The man took her hand and smiled. “Iain,” he said. “Pleasure to meet you, Candice.”
She looked around at Jack as he stood there, rifle still raised, and he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.
And it didn’t stop there.
Bella followed shortly behind.
Emma behind her.
Then Susan, who looked at him with a half-smile.
And then Hazel.
All of them standing there.
All of them looking back at him.
All of them watching as he stood there with his rifle in hand.
Iain looked at Jack and smiled. “Sure I can’t tempt you?”
He gritted his teeth.
Tightened his jaw.
And then he lowered his rifle and walked towards the man.
Iain’s smile widened. “Good,” he said, holding out a hand. “Pleasure to meet y—”
“Don’t touch me,” Jack said, yanking his hand away. “Just don’t… don’t touch me.”
Iain went to say something.
Then he just nodded. Smiled back at Jack. “Whatever you say, mystery man. Now let me introduce you to my family. And our pet squirrel.”
He turned away, and Jack could only stand there and watch as his people followed Iain off into the unknown.
And all he could do was feel that fear of other people surging through his body once again.
Chapter Seventeen
Jack sat in front of the fire and tried to keep his attention on Iain’s group at all times.
It was late morning, early afternoon. Hard to differentiate between the two nowadays. The hours just kind of rolled in to one another. He was in the middle of a small log cabin site. Looked like it was once one of those wilderness adventure sites for rich people to spend time in the woods, get closer to nature. Tourists, that’s all they were. Wouldn’t stand a chance actually surviving out here in the wilderness. Probably died a long time ago.
But as long as their fetish for temporary disconnect was satiated, they could go back to their fast-paced, consumer comforts all refreshed and “in touch”.
And they could tweet about it from the comforts of their iPhones.
Well, not anymore.
Iain sat at the other side of the fire to Jack and his people. There were three others beside him, too. A woman with long, curly grey hair called Shania. She always seemed to be smiling and had a bit of a hippy vibe to her. She seemed genuine enough. And with them both, there were two children. An older lad with dark hair, quite tall, quite handsome. And a younger girl, probably in her late teens. Jet black hair, green eyes. Looked a little pasty and unhealthy.
But then didn’t everyone?
Jack tucked into his portion of squirrel. It was charred and burnt, and the taste clung at the back of his throat. He might be hungry, but he was having a hard time eating. A hard time relaxing. Especially with these people around.
“How long have you been out here?” Hazel asked.
Iain stoked the fire a little. The warmth barely took any edge off the bitter cold. Nothing would, right now. It might not be as windy as it had been. The snow might’ve stopped. But Jack still felt like he was in a freezer, and the temperature was just dropping by the moment.
Iain looked up at Jack like he was waiting for his approval to talk to Hazel.
And then he looked over at Hazel and smiled. “A good three months now.”
Hazel raised her eyebrows. “Three months living here?”
“Why? You not like our home?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… well. It’s pretty remote.”
Iain chuckled. “Hell, everywhere’s pretty remote these days, when you think of it. Besides. The more remote, the better, that’s what I say. If you can keep a low profile, make it seem like you don’t have much, then people are less likely to try and take what you have.”
“And what do you have?” Jack asked.
Iain looked over at him. Narrowed his eyes. “We’ve got each other.”
He took Shania’s hand. Then put an arm around his daughter, who rolled her eyes.
“Iain,” she groaned.
“Don’t you go complaining,” Iain said, kissing her greasy hair. “Never take anything for granted in this world. Cause you just never know when it might be the last time. Right?”
Jack looked at this family, and he found it hard to stay sceptical about them. Even if it had taken him by surprise when the girl called him “Iain” and not “Dad”.
But he had to keep his guard up.
Because of everything he’d been through.
Everything that’d happened.
“But no,” Iain said, filling the silence once more as everyone chewed down on their food. Even Villain and Mrs Fuzzles were sharing some squirrel each, a real sight to behold considering Mrs Fuzzles looked like she was getting the lion’s share. “We used to run a foster home. Shania and me. Took children in, gave them a place to live while their lives were in the toilet. When the power went out, we had three in our care. Harry and Lara here, and another. Sadia.”
He stopped speaking for a moment. Stared into the fire as it burned away. Eyes wide. He didn’t even have to say anything else. Jack already knew the story.
“The first days were tough. Hell. I mean, you know that already. You lived it. We all lived it. We stayed at home at first. Police were there. Even some troops were there. But not for long. They soon left when they realised their families were in just as much danger as everyone. When they realised this drama wasn’t ending any time soon. And then… well. That’s when the gangs took the place.
“Sadia, she was a good kid. Only fourteen. Had a rough upbringing. Abusive father, all that. She… she got sick. Thought it was just flu at first, but it was something worse. Much worse. Looked like sepsis. Could barely breathe. Ached everywhere. Not nice to watch.
“We begged the gangs to let us leave. Begged ’em to let us try and find a hospital. But they wouldn’t. They just wouldn’t. More worried about their numbers and their influence and all that crap. So we were trapped. Trapped with a dying girl and nothing we could do about it.”
He went quiet for a second. Shania’s eyes watered. Everyone listened, silent, stunned.
“She slipped into a coma three days after she fell ill,” Iain said. “And then she died later that night. Just passed away in her sleep. It was peaceful. But… but it could’ve been prevented. It could’ve been stopped. She could’ve had a chance.”
Jack felt sick and dizzy. He wanted to get away from this conversation. It was all too real. All too raw.
“We got away from that place not long after. Woke up one morning and the gangs were just… gone. Must’ve jumped ship. Left us all there. A few dead in the streets. So we set off. Moved from place to place. But the most important thing to me was staying in the wilderness. Staying away from other people. And staying away from false prophets. Because as much as you’ve gotta work together to get by in this world… you’ve gotta know your friends and know your enemies, too. You’ve gotta scrutinise everybody. Which I know must sound pretty weird considering I’ve got you sat around our bloody fire eating our food right now.”
Jack genuinely didn’t know what to say. He felt so sorry for this man and so guilty for how he’d acted towards him so far.
“The helicopters,” Susan said. “They’re… they’re heading to somewhere
in Barrow. This place. It’s supposed to be safe. It’s supposed to have power. You should come with us. All of you.”
Iain’s smile widened. He wiped away a tear, then nodded at Susan. “Thank you. Truly. Means a lot. But we’ve got everything we want right here. We ain’t chasing anymore. We’re just living. And we’re happy that way. But hell. I ain’t gonna stand in your way.”
Jack looked across the fire at this man. He wanted to ask him along, too. Wanted to tell him not to give up hope.
But he knew there would be no convincing Iain.
And there was something troubling him about that.
Because on the one hand, he liked what Iain had here. He liked the ideals he lived by. The thought that the people around him were all that mattered, and as long as he was with them, he had everything he wanted.
But on the other hand… Jack never wanted to lose so much hope that he no longer saw the need to seek out a better future.
Jack finished eating, as did the rest of his people. He stood. The group hugged Shania and the kids. They said their farewells to Iain, who gave them some more scraps for the road.
And then when it came to Jack, he stood opposite Iain, who held out a hand.
“I wish you luck, brother. Whatever lies on the road ahead, you remember something. These people. They’re the ones you do it for. They’re the ones you live for. So you do everything with them in mind. Every last one of them.”
Jack swallowed a lump in his throat, and he took Iain’s hand.
He shook it, nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
“My pleasure,” Iain said. “I hope our paths never bloody cross again. But if they do, I’d appreciate it if you don’t go waving a rifle in my face next time.”
Jack nodded. He let go of Iain’s hand. He looked back at the four of these people standing there, at the fire in front of them, at the log cabins behind them.
And then he looked around at his people, and he tightened his grip on his rifle.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”
He took a deep breath, and he walked off into the woods.
When he looked over his shoulder, Iain’s family were already out of sight.
Chapter Eighteen
Iain stared into the woods and couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
It was afternoon. No snow had fallen today. The air was still, nothing more than a light breeze. But it still felt bitter cold. The fire had barely warmed him up. The slightly charred taste of the squirrel he’d eaten a couple of hours ago kept on coming back up with every burp. Acid reflux, that’s what it was. Something he’d suffered with for years. Something he used to have medication for. Something he couldn’t do a lot about now.
“You okay, honey?”
Iain looked around and saw Shania by his side. She wrapped her arm around his, moved close to him. “I’ll be fine.”
“You always say that when something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”
Iain looked into Shania’s eyes, and he didn’t want to tell her the truth about how he felt. He never liked burdening her with his concerns. Especially when most of the time, they turned out unfounded.
But there was just something about today that seemed different. Something about the air. Something about the way the day felt.
He knew he sounded mad.
“I can’t stop thinking about Jack’s group. About his people. About that place they were heading.”
She tightened her grip on his arm. “Thinking about heading there?”
Iain puffed out his lips. “Not a cat in hell’s chance. But… well. I guess it just got me thinking. I always say I’m doing what’s right for us. I hear you all out. Listen to everything you have to say and have to suggest. But it just struck me. Is this what you really want? This life? Like, really? Or is there something else? Something more than this?”
Shania’s smile widened. She leaned right in towards him. It reminded him of the first time they’d kissed all those years ago back in high school. The girl who was way out of his league. The girl he’d fancied since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. The girl everyone said he didn’t stand a chance with.
Her arms wrapped around his body.
Her lips hovered inches from his.
“We’ve always got your back,” Shania said. “No matter what.”
She leaned in for a kiss, and he pulled back.
“But that’s not what I mean,” Iain said. “I… I want you to tell me if you don’t agree. I want you to tell me if you want to go somewhere else. I want you to tell me if you think leaving here is right. I want you to be honest with me. Always. Okay?”
She moved away, just slightly, and she smiled. Her beautiful green eyes lit up in the light of the winter sun.
“I always am, my love,” she said. “We have everything here.”
She went in for a kiss again.
Their lips connected.
Iain lost himself in her kiss. He tasted that slight garlic tang to her tongue, and it hit him how it was the little things that he loved in life. Those human imperfections.
He went to lean in further to the kiss when he felt a thud.
He didn’t know what it was. Not at first.
Not until he tasted blood.
Not until he felt Shania’s mouth loosen its grip.
He opened his eyes.
Shania fell to the ground below.
Bleeding from her head.
“Shania,” Iain said. Shock filled him. His heart raced. His chest tightened. He threw himself to his knees, tried to lift her. “Shania, please. No. No, no, no. Please, baby. Please.”
He held on to her limp body as blood seeped from her head. He tried to make sense of all of this. He tried to hold on to her, to bring her back to life, to do anything but loosen his grip on her. He couldn’t give up.
But it was already too late.
It was already too late, and he knew it.
He held on to his wife, and he cried. He didn’t understand what’d happened. He didn’t know how it’d happened or who had done it. This wasn’t real. It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare.
He heard footsteps, and he finally lifted his head.
A man stood before him. Thick grey moustache. Smile on his face.
And a rifle in hand.
Behind him, there were more people. Ten, fifteen, something like that.
Some of them looked malnourished. Feral.
Some of them looked more clean-cut. More respectable.
Some of them didn’t look affected by what’d happened.
Some of them looked more… concerned.
The man with the moustache stood over Iain, rifle in his hands. “Hello, partner. I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”
Rage filled Iain’s body. “You killed my wife. You—you killed Shania. You bastard—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the man said, pacing side to side. “No need for the hysterics. I regret what happened to your wife. Shania, was it?”
“Don’t you say her name.”
The man lifted his hands. “Jeez. Okay. Emotional. That’s okay. It’s understandable. You’re going through some shit and you’re offloading. I get that.”
Iain stood, then. He squared right up to this man. Felt the man’s rifle press against his chest. “Get the hell away from my home.”
The man’s smile widened. “See, we will. We will. But like I said. I was wondering if you could help me with something. We followed the trail of some old friends of ours. Led us right to this cosy little place you’ve got here. Wanted to know whether you’d run into them. And where they’re heading.”
Iain looked into this man’s eyes, and he felt total hate surge through the fog of shock. He wanted to strangle the man with his bare hands. Gouge his eyes out.
But then he thought of Harry and Lara. And he knew he had to stay calm. He knew he had to keep his cool for now. For them.
As impossible as that felt.
“I haven’t seen anybody,” Iain said. “You need… you need to keep walking.”
The man shook his head and sighed. “See, that’s the thing. The only person who’d react that way? Someone who had something still to protect.”
Iain frowned. “I don’t under…”
He saw them, then.
Two people walked around the corner.
Knives to the throats of Harry and Lara.
Iain tightened his fists. “No. Harry. Lara. Please.”
The man stopped Iain moving, dug that rifle into his chest even further. And all Iain could do was watch as the kids were forced to their knees. As those knives nicked at their throats. As their terrified eyes stared back at him.
The man put a hand on Iain’s shoulder. “These people. These friends of ours. I know you’ve seen them already, so don’t screw with me. Okay? Don’t screw with me.”
Iain looked from Harry and Lara’s eyes to this man’s eyes. He wanted to stay strong. He wanted to fight.
But all he could do was beg. “Please. Not my… my children.”
“Then answer the question. Where were they heading?”
Iain thought of Jack and his people. They seemed like good people. They were going through their own shit, sure. And Jack was a bit of a loose cannon. But he cared about those he loved. He would do anything to keep them from danger. Iain knew that feeling all too well.
And then he thought about Harry and Lara and how he couldn’t let a thing happen to them.
“The safe—safe zone,” Iain said.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “The safe zone? Shit, we know that. Is that all you’ve got? Really?”
He glanced around at the man and the woman with the knives to Harry and Lara’s necks. Nodded.
The man started to slice Harry’s throat.
“No!” Iain shouted. “No. Just… just wait. Please.”
“No time to wait. Where were they going? We need concrete answers, mate. Concrete answers. Or they die, and then you die, and then—”
“Martin?” It was one of this guy’s people who spoke. Black guy. Didn’t look so happy about any of this.
The man—Martin—sighed. “Not now, Trent.”
“We don’t have to do this. It’s—”
