by Ryan Casey
I thought about how we could lie to these people. How we could pretend we’d dropped our guns and shoot them as we left.
“We’re in a bit of a mess really, aren’t we?” the voice said.
I snorted. “Looks like we are.”
I saw another option opening ahead of me. It wasn’t a path I wanted to go down. But it was one that was growing ever more appealing the more time ticked away.
And that option was telling the truth.
“Look,” I said. “I… I’m going to level with you. I didn’t come here to cause trouble.”
“You’re in our home. I’d say that’s causing trouble.”
“I visited this place a few weeks before the fall. I was a journalist doing an investigation on the rise of gun crime in the UK. I remembered this place and I figured that if it was still here then… well. It could come in handy. Because there’s something I have to do.”
Silence followed.
“These people. This group. They… they killed my son. And now they’ve got my wife, my friend’s son and two other people. A woman and a little girl. I don’t want to have to cause a conflict but I need to get them back. And I need to take out the man who killed my son. If it’s the last thing I do.”
More silence.
“I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m just asking you to let us take the weapons we’ve got and leave. We don’t have much. We’ve kept most of it here. But if you let us walk… if you let us walk then maybe somehow I can find my peace.”
More silence. And I didn’t know what to make of it now. The longer it went on, the more doubtful I grew that I’d got through to these people at all.
Then I heard the voice again. “You say you were a journalist?”
I nodded to myself. “Yeah.”
“I remember you.”
I looked at Suzy and Peter in disbelief.
“Yeah. I remember you well. How twitchy you were when you saw this place. But you were alright. Seemed interested in the struggle us people have with corruption. How we’re just doing what we do to survive. But hey. That doesn’t mean I trust you.”
I realised then I recognised the voice and remembered the man with the light green hat pulled over his face. The leader. “Green.”
“My real name’s Calvin. And I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen.”
The door handle turned some more. Opened a little.
I lifted my gun instinctively. So too did Suzy and Peter.
“You’re gonna step out, one by one, with your backs to us. Try anything funny, we shoot you. Walk out here facing forward, we shoot you. Anything other than stepping out here with your hands on your heads and your backs to us, we shoot you.”
I swallowed a lump in my dry throat. I looked at Suzy, who shook her head. “It doesn’t matter how much I believe you. There’s other people in here who—”
“Then you die in there. Your choice.”
I rubbed at the bridge of my nose. I looked at the pistol. I didn’t want to lower it. I didn’t want to put it away.
But in the end, what choice did I have but to comply?
I took a deep breath.
Then I turned around, put the gun in my back pocket and my hands on my head. “Okay,” I said. “I’m coming.”
“No,” Suzy said.
“I’m coming,” I said.
I stepped backwards slowly, trying to keep my footing. My heart raced. I knew what I was doing was mad. I knew I was just proving my weakness to these people.
But at the same time, I saw something else.
What if I trusted them?
What if, just for once, I believed in someone?
I reached the door and felt it begin to open.
I kept my eyes on Suzy, on Peter, at all times.
“Now close your eyes and keep walking. Keep going ’til you get to the ladder. You so much as glimpse at us, you’re dead.”
I took a sharp breath. Then I closed my eyes tightly, so tight that they couldn’t mistake me for opening my eyes, and I stumbled backwards.
I felt a hand grab me, almost opened my eyes out of gut reaction than anything.
But this hand was just guiding me.
Leading me to the ladder.
Leading me to safety.
The walk dragged on. And for a moment I wondered if I was being taken somewhere else—somewhere I didn’t know about, somewhere to die.
Then I reached the ladder and the person put my hands on either side of it.
“Now climb and don’t look back, little piggy,” he said.
I climbed up it. I desperately wanted to look back, to see if Peter and Suzy were okay. But I kept on going because I knew the best chance of us all surviving now was to believe; to trust.
I reached the opening of the manhole cover and took a long, desperate gasp of the fresh air.
I clambered out onto the alleyway. My body shook with adrenaline.
I looked back down at the darkness. I couldn’t hear anything. I wondered whether I should go down there. Check on Peter and Suzy.
Or do something to help them.
Do something to—
Then I saw Suzy climbing out of the cover.
I grabbed her hand. Helped her up.
“Thank God,” I said.
She wiped the dust from her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t ever make a decision like that for me again. Almost pissed myself.”
We watched and waited for Peter. And the longer time rolled on, the more my worry began to grow.
“Do you think we should—”
And then we saw him.
We both helped him up. And when we were done, we sat there, by the side of the cover, shaking, staring down at the darkness.
I heard footsteps below.
“Close the cover. Or you wouldn’t want one of our guys above ground to put a bullet in you.”
My skin went cold. I looked around, felt like I was being watched.
So I dragged the cover back into place.
I watched it slide over, covering the darkness.
Then I stood up, brushed myself down, Peter and Suzy by my side.
We looked at one another. And it was Peter who laughed first. Laughed, clearly with the ridiculousness of it all.
Then Suzy laughed.
And I laughed too, laughed out all the nerves, all the adrenaline.
As we stood there laughing, guns loaded, ammo in our rucksacks, we didn’t see the clouds thickening overhead.
We didn’t even hear the thunder beginning to rumble.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was an hour later that the storm really took hold.
The rain lashed down as if from nowhere. Although the clouds had been thick all day, it was impossible to believe that they were holding this much water. It felt like we were at a water park, standing underneath a huge bucket, which was pouring out all over us. I was soaked to the skin, shivering with the coldness of the damp. The guns and everything in our rucksacks would be soaked too.
To be frank though, firing the gun wasn’t a concern right now. The concern was just how bad this storm was. We were just outside the town, walking down a quiet road through a suburban area. The water was overspilling from the drains. A river poured its way down the road, right up to the ankles. And considering there had been no rain at all up until recently, I was getting concerned with just how bad these floods were going to be.
It was like we were wading through a river. Reminded me of Sarah and I holding little Bobby’s hand as we navigated ourselves from the middle of the Ribble that time when our canoe capsized. I remembered the fear at first; the fear that my son was in the water. But then that fear was replaced by laughter when I realised he was okay.
It was a good day to think back to. A good memory to revisit.
A painful spectre from the past.
“You bring your swimming trunks along?” Suzy asked, as she battled against the fast flow of the water. She was trying to make light of the situation, I could tell. Bu
t really she was just as concerned as I was.
Peter, naturally, was hating it. But then again, Peter hated everything.
“If the rain doesn’t stop soon, we’re gonna have to think about getting to higher ground,” he said.
“It will stop soon,” I said.
He stopped. And when he came to a halt and I saw the water flooding right to his knees, I realised the severity of this situation. “Really?” he said. “Well I’m looking forward to you sorting me out with a new pair of trousers. Preferably some waterproofs.”
I looked at the rain as it pierced down. The sky above was thick with cloud. It didn’t look like it was receding or going away anytime soon.
“It won’t stay like this forever,” I said. “It can’t.”
Peter whistled, puffed out his lips. “Hope you’re right about that, boyo. Although forgive me for being a little sceptical, but…”
He stopped talking, then. And for a moment, I wasn’t sure why it was. Figured he’d just decided to shut up, like he often did when he was in the middle of a trail of thought.
But no.
He was looking at something right ahead.
Something up the road.
“What is that?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes and I felt the dread building inside. I could see something coming our way. I wasn’t sure what it was, or how to describe it, only that it was…
“The dam,” Suzy said.
I narrowed my eyes, looked at her. “What?”
“The dam,” she said, her voice shaky. “It’s… it’s burst its banks. Which means…”
She stopped talking right then and I felt dread fill my body.
The dam.
The dam had burst its banks.
Which meant…
“Hold on!” I said. “Get to the side of the road. Get to higher ground. Quick!”
We ran to our right, ran over to the houses. I could see the massive wave of water tumbling and I knew what was happening now. All this water, it had filled up the dam. And now the dam had collapsed.
And we were going to be covered by the wave of that water.
We ran over to a house. Tried the door, but it was locked.
“We’re gonna have to climb onto the roof.”
“And you know that’ll work, do you?” Peter asked.
“I have to believe it will. Because what other option do we have?”
Peter shook his head. I could tell he was pissed off. I could sense the discontent.
But I was telling the truth when I said what I said.
What other option did we have?
I clambered my way up onto one of the black bins by the side of the house. I stretched out for the roof, pushed with all I had.
But I couldn’t make it.
I couldn’t reach.
And the water was powering closer.
“Quick, Alex.”
“I’m trying!” I said.
I stretched some more, reached out to try and get onto the house. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t make it.
And the horrible realisation began to rise in my body, right from the pit of my stomach.
We were going to drown.
We’d come all this way and we were going to drown.
After everything we’d been through, we were going to drown.
“No,” I said.
I stretched out some more. And the more I stretched, the more I closed my eyes. The more I closed my eyes, the more I believed.
We were getting onto this roof.
We were getting onto it and we were going to make it.
We were going to—
I felt a hand grab me.
I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I didn’t know where it’d come from. It was almost like it’d come from God himself.
But when I opened my eyes I saw there was a man there. He had dark, curly hair and a moustache, well-trimmed and maintained. He was muscular, veiny arms. And he was holding onto my hand, trying to drag me up.
“Gonna have to help me out a little here, fella!” he said.
So I pulled myself up too. I kept on trying, kept on persevering, even though the water was getting closer.
And eventually I made it.
I made it because I saw Bobby in my mind.
I saw Sarah in my mind.
And then I was on the roof, and it was just Suzy and Peter to follow.
I grabbed Suzy’s hand, as did the man beside me, whose name I still didn’t know. We pulled her up, dragged her as hard as we could. I didn’t want to see where the wave of water was at now. I dreaded to think.
When I’d dragged Suzy up onto the roof, I reached down for Peter.
But Peter was struggling, I could see that.
The water was getting deeper. Peter wasn’t very sturdy atop that bin.
And he was heavy.
“Come on, Peter!”
I pulled at his right arm. He gritted his teeth, tried to pull up too, but it wasn’t easy. Not with his weight.
We kept on going, as I heard crashing and I knew what was happening. The wave. It was kicking up debris. Carrying cars, sending them smashing into houses. And a horrible thought came to my mind—what if after all this effort, the house came down? What if it was for nothing all along?
We kept on pulling, but my hope was running thin. I looked at the man with the moustache, who shook his head. “It isn’t gonna work,” he said.
“We keep on going,” I said.
He backed away a little bit. “Mate, we need to get back. It isn’t gonna—”
“We keep trying!”
He came back forward. And I knew as I looked into Peter’s eyes that this was it now. One final pull. One last chance.
I held my breath.
Closed my eyes.
And I pulled.
As I pulled, I felt something remarkable happen. Peter started to rise.
I opened my eyes, smile beaming across my face. “Yes!” I said.
Suzy was laughing. The moustached man was smiling too.
Peter clambered his way onto the side of the house.
“You did it,” I said. “You stupid old bastard. You actually did it.”
I was about to turn around and thank the moustached man when I noticed something.
He stood up.
But he wobbled forward.
And before I could reach for him, before I could even ask his name, he went tumbling, screaming into the water below.
“No!” I shouted.
But when I leaned over, I saw him fall into the water.
I saw him disappearing downstream.
I saw his desperate eyes staring at us, his head bobbing in and out of the water.
We sat there on the top of this house as the rain eased off, but as the water flowed heavily down the street.
We watched our unknown saviour bob his head underwater, then get swallowed by a mass of debris.
He didn’t resurface.
Chapter Thirty
We spent the night on that rooftop, waiting for the flow of the water to recede.
There was something undoubtedly relaxing about lying there and staring up at the stars. I couldn’t explain it. I mean, the circumstances were horrible, no doubt about that. We might find ourselves trapped here forever, sure. But there was something calming about listening to the water move between the houses.
Every once in a while, I heard a shout or a cry and I knew what it was. A person who’d got caught in the flood. Or an animal, trying to find its way back to land. And it wrenched my heart. It snapped me right out of that illusion of peace that was cast over our situation and reminded me of the horrors of this world and everything in it.
But still, we were here. We had made it this far. We were survivors.
And we had work to do.
I looked to my right and saw Peter lying there. Suzy was by his side, fast asleep. I applauded her spirit to be able to sleep through a situation like this. Especially when her son was being held b
y Jon’s people. She was strong. Perhaps the strongest person I’d ever met.
And we were by her side.
Peter was awake, though. His eyes were open wide. He was looking up at the moonlight. And the closer I looked at him, I realised something. He was crying.
I felt like I was seeing Peter in an intimate moment. A moment he didn’t want someone to share. I felt like a voyeur, seeing an emotional moment that I had no right to intervene in.
So I went to turn away, to make it look like I hadn’t seen a thing at all.
But before I could turn, Peter looked at me.
We held eye contact for a few seconds. And in those seconds it struck me just how remarkably little I knew about this man, about his past. He was always one to ask you how you were doing, always concerned with your own well-being, that you were okay. He never expected anyone to ask him about himself. He never divulged much about his past. He was always just so selfless, and for that I admired him.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Peter sniffed, clearly making no effort to disguise the fact that he was upset about something. “Oh, I’m alright. Just one of those days, huh?”
“If you want to talk. I mean… it helps to talk. You’ve been there for me when I’ve needed to talk. Just know you can talk to me. I’m listening.”
Peter looked at me. And for a moment, I thought he was going to tell me to get lost. That there was nothing wrong with him, and certainly nothing he wanted to share with me.
But he didn’t.
He said something remarkable.
“I just can’t get what happened to Bobby out of my mind.”
Right then, I felt myself opening up. My whole world stretching around me. I realised that I’d been selfish. Selfish for assuming I was the only one hurting from what had happened to my son. Selfish for believing that it was only really me who was feeling anything from what had happened to Bobby, and therefore it was only me who could get to the bottom of it, who could face his killers head on, get the revenge he deserved.
I’d forgotten that I was surrounded by people who believed in me. People who cared about me. Who cared about each other.
I’d been so blinded by my vengeance that I hadn’t seen the goodness right in front of me.
