The World After, Book 2

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The World After, Book 2 Page 11

by Ryan Casey


  She was strong. She was the toughest person I knew.

  And she’d died without me even having the opportunity to say goodbye. On her knees, bag over her head.

  I tensed my fists and tried to keep my composure, but doing so was hard.

  As I sat there, the taste of sick in my mouth like it always was when I visited these graves, I felt like I was transported back to my mother’s grave, and to Harriet’s grave. I felt like I had the same questions of the universe as I did when I was with them. What had I done to deserve this? How much more loss could I take?

  I knew one thing for certain. I couldn’t bond with other people. I couldn’t risk any more loss.

  But then, as I stroked Lionel’s head, I thought of the problems not bonding and reaching out to others had caused me. In a way, indirectly, refusing to bond in the first place had left us on our own and vulnerable to attack from Mike’s group. Refusing to let myself fully connect with Hannah meant that I’d never, ever be able to tell her the true extent of my feelings.

  So as much as reaching out and connecting with others was a problem of mine in this new world, so too was my inability to do so. If anything, that had caused me more problems.

  I saw what I had to do, then, as I crouched in front of these graves, the bitter memories mixing with the tastes in my mouth. I had to change, or I died.

  And how could I change?

  By stepping up and out of my comfort zone.

  By pushing myself out of this rut and forcing myself to do things I wasn’t totally comfortable doing.

  By making new allies.

  I stood up and took a deep breath. Lionel glanced up at me, tilted his head.

  “Come on, boy,” I said, as I turned from the graves and back towards Phillip’s camp. “It’s time we did something about Mike.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I stood on the balcony of my caravan and looked down at Phillip and his people, preparing to make the boldest decision since I’d arrived here—and perhaps the boldest decision of my life.

  The sun was setting. The night-time chill was coming. I could tell from the looks on people’s faces that they didn’t want to be here. They’d rather be sitting around their fires, enjoying whatever hot food we could put together.

  But there were more important matters at stake.

  I looked down at the group as they stood in the middle of the caravan site. Haz. Remy. Holly. Even Phillip looked up at me. Seeing as he was leader of this place, he couldn’t have enjoyed that much. But he was reasonable. He understood my concerns. He was willing to let me have a voice, and for that, I owed him.

  Now I just had to make the most of the opportunity I had been given.

  “For a whole month, we’ve sat back and waited, quaking in our boots, for the moment Mike and his people return to us and do… well, whatever the hell they want.”

  Everyone was silent. Everyone was watching. Listening.

  “And I’ve thought about this whole situation. I’ve thought about it a lot. About what we should do. About how we should progress. About the ways we might be able to find a way out of it. But in the end, I just end up reaching the same conclusion. Do you know what that conclusion is?”

  Nobody responded. Nobody said a word.

  I looked at Holly. She was pale, thinner than she had been a month ago. I knew kids didn’t experience stress and grief in the same way as adults. But they still experienced it in their own way. They had to come to terms with the emotional stress in their own way. They had to interpret their new reality—a reality in Holly’s case that meant a future without her mum, her dad, and her brother—and face up to a world that wasn’t all sunshine and fairies, as had been promised by the movies and the books.

  “That girl down there lost her mother,” I said, my voice cracking. “Mike butchered her right before her poor eyes. Do you know what kind of scars that gives a child? Do you have any idea how that moment will change her life?”

  A few of the group lowered their heads. Some patted Holly on the back.

  She just looked vacant, like a zombie.

  “And not just that,” I said. “She didn’t just watch her mum die. She watched her brother die, too. Right in front of her, in a split second, her whole world falls apart. And what have we done about it? What have we done to avenge her?”

  I heard a few mutters. A few tuts. I knew some people weren’t happy with how frank I was being.

  “We’ve sat around for a month shitting ourselves and waiting for Mike to return. And for what? So he can take out more of us? So he can destroy more lives? Is that the world you really want to live in? Because it’s not even the first winter yet. And if you think it’s going to get better with groups like that around, you’re wrong. So wrong.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Phillip asked.

  It was the first time he’d spoken since I’d started my speech. I felt the spotlight well and truly on me now. My big moment to decide how to progress. To speak the truth, as cold and harsh as it was.

  “We attack Mike’s group. We kill them all.”

  Silence followed. Then a few mumblings of bafflement. Even Remy and Haz looked surprised by what I’d said.

  “What?” Phillip said.

  “As far as I’m concerned, Mike declared war on all our people the second he came in here and butchered us.”

  “They were your people,” Phillip said, “not ours.”

  It was my turn to react with silence. I felt my body temperature rising. “And that makes what he did right? Whatever happened to us attacking Mike and rescuing your people?”

  “This isn’t about wrongs or rights. This is about feasibility. How on earth are we supposed to take on Mike’s people when they have far more firepower than we ever thought? And as for attacking him… I can see now that the initial plan was irrational. We should just be grateful for what we’ve got.”

  “We have numbers. And knives. Lots of them. And a whole load of supplies stashed away, apparently.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “It can be—”

  “It’s not enough!” Phillip shouted.

  I was quiet, then. I knew where I stood.

  “You might have grand ideas of how this little revenge mission of yours plays out. But it doesn’t take a genius to see it’s a suicide mission.”

  “Not if we plan correctly.”

  “It’s not happening, Scott.”

  He turned and started to walk away.

  “But—”

  “It’s not happening. Case closed. I will not have you drag my people to the abattoir.”

  He started to walk away again.

  “I didn’t realise you were such a coward.”

  He stopped. He looked up at me. It looked like, for a split second, he was about to crack.

  Then he half-smiled, regaining his composure and shaking his head. “You’ll understand, in time.”

  He walked away. And the rest of his people followed him.

  All of them but Haz, Remy and Holly.

  We stood in our positions, all three of us, unmoving. It was like we were coming to terms with what I’d said and what could be done in our own way.

  It was Remy who broke the silence. “What are you going to do?”

  I looked down at Remy. He looked like a soldier waiting for his orders. Like he was on board.

  Then I looked at Haz. He looked… well. Less like a soldier. But still on board.

  “We’re going to take the weapons from Phillip’s supply caravan,” I said.

  Haz frowned. “What?”

  I watched as Phillip and the rest of his people returned to their inane lives of waiting, of inaction, and I realised that wasn’t me anymore. That wasn’t who I was.

  It wasn’t who I needed to be.

  “We’re going to steal the weapons. And we’re going to take down Mike. The three of us. Together.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  When I was sure that everything was silent outside, I opene
d my eyes.

  I stood up and walked to my caravan door. I kept my footsteps as slow and careful as possible. I knew I was no doubt being a little extreme in my carefulness. But I didn’t want to risk bringing any attention to myself at all.

  What I was going to do would put me at odds with Phillip and the rest of his group.

  What I was going to do would make me an enemy to them, no doubt about it.

  I was breaching law and order—law and order that Phillip had expressed clearly to me when we’d first met—and I could have no hesitations.

  I reached the door to the caravan and I questioned whether I was really doing the right thing. I was going to break into the supply caravan. When I’d broken in, I was going to give the signal to Remy and Haz, who would be waiting nearby. And then, together, we were going to gear up and leave in pursuit of Mike’s camp—Walter’s Caravan Park over in the Lake District.

  I knew I couldn’t second guess what I was doing. I was doing it not just for the people I’d lost, but for the living, too. It might seem like a reckless thing to do in the short term. But in the long-term, it was going to save lives.

  I went to turn the handle of the caravan door when I heard a whimper beside me.

  I looked around. Lionel, who I’d brought in from the kennels a night ago, was standing there, tilting his head either side.

  I smiled at him. “It’s okay, boy. I’ll be back for you. I would say make your own breakfast if I’m not back by morning, but…”

  He ran up by my side, banged his head into my leg.

  I crouched beside him and ruffled his fur. “You can’t come with me. It’s too dangerous for you.”

  He didn’t seem to understand. Of course he didn’t. He was a dog, idiot.

  But as I stood and prepared to leave without him, I realised that maybe there was another way. I was planning on stealing weapons and supplies. I didn’t know what to make of how Phillip would react. I couldn’t help fearing he would react violently, somehow, and that scared me, even though I hadn’t seen anything in Phillip’s behaviour to suggest that would be the case.

  But he could try and punish me.

  And what better way to punish me than through Lionel?

  Than through Holly?

  I stood up, then, and opened the door. “Come on, lad. Keep it quiet, though. No shitting on Margaret’s lawn.”

  I opened the door, walked down the steps, and made my way towards the supply caravan.

  But before that, there was something else I had to do.

  I stopped at Holly’s caravan.

  I made my way up the steps, slowly. I reached the door, my heart pounding. I knew this was going to be dangerous. Someone could see. I didn’t think it was right that Holly should have to be in a caravan of her own, but when I’d raised that issue, Phillip insisted that she was well watched over.

  I looked over my shoulder, into the darkness. I didn’t see anyone. I’d have the problem of trying to get into Holly’s caravan, which was no doubt locked. That alone was going to draw attention to me.

  Then I turned back around.

  I almost jumped out of my skin.

  Holly was standing there.

  “Did I scare you?” she said.

  “Ssh,” I said.

  “What are you—”

  “We’re leaving,” I said. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “But—but where are we going?”

  I didn’t want to tell Holly I was taking her somewhere more dangerous than she was at right now. After all, it didn’t seem logical.

  I just had a bad feeling about leaving her here, especially when me, Haz and Remy were gone. I had a bad feeling that I would lose her.

  I owed it to Sue to look after her.

  That’s what I was going to do.

  I took Holly’s hand and rushed across the caravan site, Lionel still by our side. I knew Haz and Remy were meant to be keeping an eye out for me and meeting me out here, but I couldn’t see them. Where were they at? What was taking them so long?

  I crouched opposite Holly and took her hands in mind. “I want you to hide behind those trees over there. You see them?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “But it’s dark.”

  “It won’t be for long. Just until we get a short way from here.”

  “Why are we doing this?”

  I tightened my grip on her hands. “We’re doing it because… because sure, I’ve had issues trusting people. But sometimes that’s been with reason.”

  She looked at me, blankly.

  “We’re doing it because it’s about time I started stepping up and doing what’s right. By your mum and your brother. By you.”

  She didn’t totally seem to understand that either. But this time, she at least smiled and nodded.

  “Now take Lionel,” I said. “Get over to those trees over there. And if anyone steps towards you… just run.”

  I kissed her on the head, then I made my way over towards the armoury. There was still no sign of Haz or Remy. What was taking them so long?

  I looked back at where Holly had run to. She was out of sight. Good. It was for her own safety.

  I looked at my caravan. Still time to go back there. Still time to end this madness.

  Then, I looked at the supply caravan right ahead of me.

  This was my moment. This was my opportunity. I had to take it.

  I walked slowly up the steps towards the armoury—or caravan—entrance.

  I heard something move behind me.

  I swung around.

  Nothing but darkness.

  I kept my focus on the grounds until I was totally sure it was nothing more than a trick of the mind.

  When I was sure, I turned back to the caravan door. I lowered the handle, expecting it to be locked.

  Remarkably, it swung open.

  There was something not quite right about that.

  I saw the stacks of knives and tools, as well as bottled water, spare clothing, all kinds of things. I felt a mixture of relief and fear. Relief that I’d made it here. Fear that I, Scott Harvard, SEO and Marketing worker, was actually walking into a caravan full of knives and readying myself to butcher a man who’d killed people I cared about.

  The world was a mad place. But I didn’t have the time to reflect on it.

  I walked over towards a long blade, which caught my eye. I had to be quick. I didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself. My whole plan would collapse.

  I grabbed the knife. And when I took it away, I reached for a hammer, and then for a couple of bottles of water. I filled a rucksack with essentials—a first aid kit, some travel-sized toilet paper and a few packs of beef jerky.

  I went to grab another weapon and I heard the creak at the front of the caravan.

  I froze. My body went totally still.

  I hadn’t heard it. It was my mind. Nothing more. It had to be.

  I turned around slowly, begging, praying that what I’d heard was nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

  But unfortunately, this time, it wasn’t.

  There was someone at the caravan door.

  They were holding a knife.

  And they were looking right at me.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “You’d better tell me what the hell you’re doing, right now, or I’ll wake everyone in this damned camp up and make sure they know about it.”

  I stood and stared at the man opposite me. It was Mark. I didn’t know him too well, just that he was one of the quieter members of the group. Sometimes, he stood with Phillip. Others, he seemed to stand his own ground. But he didn’t make much of a fuss about it. He was headstrong, but not recklessly so.

  But he was holding a knife, and he was blocking my way.

  I swallowed a lump in my throat as my heart raced. I could taste the sweat on my lips, which had rolled down my face. “Please, Mark—”

  “I asked you a question. You owe me an answer. So I’ll ask you again, just one more time. What the
hell is going on here?”

  The way I saw it, I had two options. I could be straight up and honest with him; try to appeal to his better nature. Maybe I’d even manage to win him round to my way of thinking.

  “And don’t bullshit me,” he intervened, before I could get my thoughts together. “I’ve seen your friends out there, too. Remy. Haz. Even young Holly and the dog. So what’s going on? Why are you in here? What’re you planning?”

  Shit. So Haz and Remy were out there after all. They’d made it. Now it was just me holding them back before we could make our way out of here.

  I thought about just telling Mark we were trying to leave.

  But on the other hand, I looked at the knife in my hand. I could end this, right here. I could make a break for it. I wouldn’t ever have to run into Phillip’s people again. It was possible.

  But did I have it in me?

  Was that really me?

  Hell. It would be for the people I cared about. For them, I had to be willing to do anything.

  Anything.

  I’d already lost so many of my own through indecision and holding back. I didn’t want to lose any more.

  I lifted the knife and took a few steps towards Mark.

  Mark smiled. He chuckled a little. “Oh. That’s how it is, is it? You’re going to ram that blade there into my chest. That’s how highly you think of me. Come off it, Scott. I know that’s not who you are.”

  I stopped, then. My heart raced. The darkness inside this caravan seemed intense. I looked down at the knife. Mark was right. I couldn’t do it.

  But he wasn’t letting me leave this caravan without an answer.

  I owed him that much.

  “I’m going after Mike,” I said.

  There was silence, then, like Mark was mulling over what I was saying. “Didn’t expect that. Thought you were just making a break for it. But no. These aren’t your weapons. These aren’t your supplies. You have no right to steal from us and start a war on our behalf.”

  “The war started long ago,” I said. “Isn’t it time you stopped cowering to his people? Every single day we wake up in fear that he might return. ‘Oh, Mike might be back. Oh God, what will he do next?’ Every single day. And I’m sick of it. I’m done with it. I’m going to put an end to it.”

 

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