“That’s insane!” the older man spluttered. “Y-You can’t just toss me out like this. You’ve got to give me another chance!”
Ignoring his pleas, Justin jerked his chin at Amy. “What are you waiting for? Go.”
She nodded numbly and ran out of the woods, unable to fully register this sudden turn of events. If you had warned them about Patrick’s sordid habits much earlier, none of this would have happened, a small voice taunted. Swallowing hard, she squashed these rising feelings of self-blame and focused her attention on the simple task ahead.
Chapter 4
After stuffing a small backpack with cans of stew and sausages, candy bars, several bottles of water, a mini first aid kit, and a flashlight, Amy returned to the woods. The sky was darkening to a purplish pink. As soon as she reached the two men, she tossed the bag at Patrick’s feet.
“Can I talk to you alone for a minute?” she asked Justin, her voice tight. When he nodded, she led him to a nearby tree, where they would be out of earshot.
“Make it quick. It’s getting dark, and we should be heading back to the mansion.”
She whirled around, furious. “Thank you for bringing that up. You’re right – it’s getting dark. You know he won’t survive out there on his own.”
Justin raised his brows. “I didn’t realize you cared about his well-being.”
Amy clenched her fists. “Stop acting like a jerk. Just look at his face! He’s bleeding, and the smell of that fresh blood will bring the Runners right to him. He won’t stand a chance.”
“They’re not sharks, Amy,” he answered, snorting.
“You’re right; they’re not. They’re far worse.”
Angry silence fell upon them, their ragged breaths filling the air.
“You’ve wanted to get rid of him, ever since we were in the apartment,” Justin said quietly once he’d calmed down. “Well, now you can. He doesn’t have to be a burden on us anymore.”
Amy sighed, upset. “But we can’t send him out like this.”
“So you don’t mind having a molester around?” When she didn’t reply, he continued on. “And what about Marie? After what he tried to do, you think she wants to see him again?”
Everything he said made sense. Amy wanted to throttle the older man senseless for what he’d tried to do. And yet, she resisted the idea of tossing him out under these conditions. There was no way he would survive the night on the road alone. Driving a screwdriver into his temple would be a quicker and more merciful act.
“Why don’t we try this,” she suggested. “We’ll leave Patrick out here, give him a bit of a scare. Maybe spending a night in the woods by himself will knock some sense into him, and it might help him appreciate the importance of being a helpful part of the group. In the meantime, we’ll speak with Marie and Daniel. If they’re willing to forgive Patrick or at least tolerate his presence, we can bring him back tomorrow morning.”
Justin nodded, relenting. “Honestly, I’m willing to give anything a try right now.” He sighed heavily as his tired eyes landed on Patrick, who stood there staring back at them expectantly. “Maybe you were right,” he muttered. “Maybe we should have left in the morning instead of going on a test run.”
Amy patted him on the arm, then went over to Patrick. Even though his face was swelling up fast, she saw panic ripple across his battered features as she slowly explained their decision to him.
“Please! I can’t stay out here alone. I just can’t!”
“It’s only for one night,” she reassured him. “Stay alert and quiet at all times. Besides, it’s better than going out into the roads, where you’re bound to meet a Runner or two. We’ve been lucky here so far. If you stay quiet and hide among the trees, you’ll be fine.”
Justin came over and joined them. “You need to give Marie and Daniel some space,” he added. “You sexually assaulted her, Patrick. Just thank your lucky stars that her husband didn’t maim you.”
“He almost did,” Patrick muttered under his breath, but he bent down to pick up the bag anyway, wincing slightly as he pressed a hand against his stomach.
“I put a first aid kit in the bag,” Amy informed him, watching him carefully. “There are codeine tablets in there, as well as saline, antiseptic wipes, and some bandages.”
He waved her concern away. “Just go. Go back to your warm and safe mansion. But know this – if anything happens to me out here, I’m holding you both accountable.”
“You could try to be a bit remorseful for what you did!” Amy finally snapped back, sick of the whole debacle. She was trying to be compassionate, but the man wasn’t helping at all. “You’re not the victim here, understand?”
Justin grabbed her arm, tugging her along. “We’ll see you in the morning, then,” he said to the older man. Before harsher words could be exchanged, she and Justin left him at the edge of the woods and made their way back to the mansion.
***
Dinner was a quiet and awkward affair. Amy and Justin darted nervous glances at the Korean couple, who sat cross-legged and silently ate their meals, their gazes firmly attached to the floor while Walter devoured his doggy feast next to them. Daniel’s face remained stony and unapproachable.
When they put everything away, Justin cleared his throat, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about what happened back there,” he said carefully. “Amy and I have spoken to Patrick, and –”
“Is he gone?”
Surprised, Amy stared at him. “How did you know about –”
“I saw you packing a small bag just outside the door. It was for Patrick, was it not?” Daniel’s brows furrowed. “So, is he gone?”
Justin gave a fake cough. “Well . . . not quite. He’ll be spending the night in the woods.”
“I see. This means you will not send him away.” Daniel nodded to himself, as though coming to a decision. “Very well. Then my wife and I will leave first thing in the morning.”
That was the last thing Amy wanted to hear. Alarmed, she shook her head angrily.
“No! You can’t do that. All of us are going to that farm. We are not going our separate ways!”
“I will not subject my wife to spend another minute with that man!”
This discussion was going nowhere. Amy tossed a helpless glance at Justin, who merely shrugged back at her. He didn’t seem surprised by Daniel’s reaction.
Marie slowly lifted her head, her gaze seeking Amy’s own. “You are a good person, Amy,” she whispered, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. “I understand that you do not want Patrick’s death on our conscience.” Her shoulders slumped in pure misery. “But I do not want to see him again. He disgusts me.”
And that was the final nail in Patrick’s coffin. Seeing the torment in Marie’s face, Amy nodded in resignation, smiling sadly at her friend.
“Okay. We’ll send him away tomorrow as soon as day breaks.” Her voice softened. “You won’t have to see him ever again.”
Daniel reached out to massage his wife’s shoulders. “We should have an early night,” he said to her. “It has been a tiring day.”
The group lay on the blankets, and Amy leaned forward to blow the candles out. As darkness washed over the room, she crawled over to the window and pressed her face against the cold glass pane. Dull moonlight revealed the faint outlines of trees below the hill. She saw a thin beam of light jerkily moving around and wondered if Patrick was having his dinner, not realizing the fate that awaited him tomorrow. What could they say to him? And how would they do it? They couldn’t just toss him out on the road; they had to find a safe spot, a place where he could hide until he could join a new group that was willing to take him in.
That final thought caused Amy to let out a silent, humorless laugh. Who was she kidding? With his lack of survival skills and horrid personality, what could Patrick possibly offer to anyone? He had never even killed a Runner before. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a migraine coming on.
“Are you mad at me?” a low voi
ce asked to her left, and she jerked her head up to find Justin crouching beside her. She stared at him for a while, then tore her gaze away.
“I don’t know. I guess I thought it would be fairly easy – get on the road and drive to the farm. Things weren’t supposed to be this complicated.”
“Yeah. I bet Garrett thinks we’re all dead by now.”
Amy rubbed her temples. “So, how are we going to do this? Who’s going to tell Patrick?”
“I will,” Justin replied, staring at the roving beam of Patrick’s flashlight in the distance. “We’ll leave in the morning and let Patrick have the mansion, including most of the food boxes. The clinic is secluded and free of Runners, so he should be all right for a while.”
“And later? When the food runs out?”
Justin shook his head. “That’s up to him. If he wants to live, he’ll have to go out and start fending for himself.” When Amy didn’t reply, he tugged at the edge of her shirt. “C’mon. We should have an early night, too.”
He was right. There was no point standing by the window, hoping for a better solution; Patrick’s fate was sealed now, and there was nothing more she could do about that. With a weary sigh, she lay down beside Justin and pulled a blanket over her body, pillowing her head on a folded arm. It seemed like hours passed before sleep finally came.
***
Amy bolted up, hugging herself as she sat on the ground, shivering. She’d had a nightmare about Ms. Wentworth, and the echoes of her anguished screams still rang in her ears. Spooked, Amy pulled the blanket over her hunched shoulders and glanced at the rest of her friends sleeping soundly before her. Even Walter remained asleep, comfortably burrowed inside a blanket nest he’d made for himself.
She continued to sit there, staring at the window. It was dark outside; the moon was partially hidden behind cirrus clouds. Unwilling to go back to sleep, she rose to her feet and padded toward the foyer, quietly opening the door. She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders as the cool night air hit her on the way out. Slowly, she made her way to The Peak, hoping the walk would clear the graphic images still lingering in her mind. The dream had rattled her far more than she’d realized.
As Amy stood on top of the hill, she briefly wondered if she should go and check up on Patrick, maybe even give him a spare blanket. The night air was chilly enough to keep a person wide awake. Glad that there was something to do, she hurried back down the hill and entered the foyer, feeling her way around. Patrick’s blanket would be on the floor somewhere. Amy fumbled around for a bit, searching here and there, when it dawned on her that Walter had already claimed it as his own, and was comfortably ensconced in it. She paused, cursing under her breath. The spoiled mutt would surely fight to keep it, and she wasn’t in the mood for an unfriendly tug-of-war. There was no help for it, then – she’d have to rummage through the boxes and pull out a new one.
She reached over for the nearest candle and lit it. Tilting it at an angle to avoid the wax from sliding onto her fingers, she carried the waxy stub toward the window and peered through the glass, wondering if Patrick was still messing around with his flashlight. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was deliberately draining the batteries out of spite.
The darkness was so thick that Amy couldn’t even see the faint outlines of the trees. Odd, considering the moon was no longer obscured by passing clouds. With a frown, she pressed her face against the glass, squinting to see better.
It took her about a whole minute to realize that something was blocking her view. A great shudder ran down her body, but she wasn’t entirely sure why. With a trembling hand, she raised the small candle closer to her face, even though some deep, primordial sense warned her not to.
A pair of wide, bloodshot eyes stared back at her just inches away, separated only by a thin pane of glass. Amy opened her mouth to scream, but it became stuck in her throat. Instead, a strange, hitching noise (huh, huh, huh) erupted from her chest as she quickly stepped backward. In her haste to get away, she tripped over someone’s leg and landed painfully on her backside, causing the candle stub to roll across the hard floor. The small flame nearly singed Walter’s exposed tail. Surprised, the dog yelped and shot out of his blanket nest, waking everyone up in the process.
Outside, the Runner snarled and threw itself against the window. On its second attempt, its bloodied head smashed through the splintered glass.
It began to force its way in.
Chapter 5
“Where’s the bat?” Justin shouted in the semi-darkness, cursing loudly as his legs became entangled in someone else’s blanket.
“Outside, with the rest of the boxes!” Amy gasped, scrabbling to her feet. She winced as Walter’s vicious barks bounced off the walls; they were adding to the commotion amidst all the confusion.
A scream, then Marie shouted, “There is another one!”
Now there were two. Amy cast a fearful glance over her shoulder and saw another Runner pressing against the first one, scratching at the broken window from behind. The first Runner was almost inside.
Amy’s initial reaction had been to escape outside. But what if there was a horde passing through the grounds? Where had these Runners come from?
Apparently, Justin was of the same mind. He pushed Amy and Marie toward the grand staircase.
“Go and hide in the second floor! Take Walter with you, and shut that damn dog up!”
There was no time to argue; as soon as the two women were halfway up the stairs with Walter, the broken window gave way, and the two Runners crashed into the living room.
“Go,” Amy breathed. “Right now.”
“What about my husband and Justin?” Marie whispered, but Amy forcefully pushed her up.
“They have the bat and the fire poker. We don’t,” she answered fiercely, then pushed Marie again. In silence, they crept up the marble steps and felt along the walls of the dark hallway.
Earlier in the day, Amy had wandered through this same path to search for Patrick. The floor plan still fresh in her mind, she urged Marie forward until they reached the last room at the end. She remembered that it was a spacious bedroom, with a walk-in closet and a bathroom en suite that featured French doors leading to a balcony. If one of the Runners somehow followed them up here, Amy and Marie would have no choice but to step out into the balcony and hide on the roof.
Once they entered the bedroom, Amy firmly closed the door behind them. There was no lock except for a flimsy-looking door chain. It would have to do. She put that in place and ushered Marie and Walter toward the walk-in closet that led to the en suite. Before shutting themselves in, Amy fumbled around in the closet, looking for anything that remotely resembled a weapon.
She yanked out two loose closet rods and shuffled inside the en suite, slamming the door shut on the way. After handing a rod to Marie, she huddled beside her friend near the French doors, with Walter squashed between them. Marie dutifully calmed the dog down with soothing strokes, the other hand wrapped around his snout.
“Where did they come from?” Marie asked, and Amy stared at her, bewildered.
“I have no idea. It could be a horde passing by, or just a few stragglers that happened to stumble this way.” Now that Amy had the presence of mind to think straight, she realized something even more troublesome. “Oh, no,” she exhaled, casting a wide-eyed glance at Marie. “Patrick’s out there.”
The Korean woman shook her head in dismay. “This is not good.”
Amy peered through the French doors, hoping that Patrick was out there, blissfully unaware of what was happening inside the mansion. She hoped that the Runners had come from the road and not from the woods, where the older man was currently taking refuge.
A muffled growl issued from Walter’s snout, and the dog writhed in Marie’s arms.
Stiffening, Marie hugged the dog even closer to her chest. “Something is on the second floor,” she whispered.
Amy heard dull thudding noises against the doors. The sounds grew louder.
One of the Runners had climbed up the stairs. Had it seen the women going up? Had it followed them up here?
Not knowing what else to do, Amy stood on shaky legs and held out the closet rod before her. The rod felt useless in her hands; it would be as effective as walloping the Runner over the head with a rubber chicken. The inappropriate image caused a half-cry, half-laugh to bubble from her throat, and she thought, I’m losing it. I’ve officially gone off the deep end.
“Please be quiet,” Marie pleaded from behind. Worry filled her voice; the poor woman probably thought that Amy was growing hysterical, which wasn’t entirely wrong.
Amy calmed down at once. “Sorry about that.” She paused, contemplating the dog in Marie’s arms. “I’ll need your help. Can you put Walter out on the balcony? And close the door, all right? The last thing we need is for him to get in our way.”
With a nod, Marie yanked at one of her long sleeves until it tore at the seams. She tied the piece of cloth firmly around Walter’s snout and put him outside.
“Stay quiet, Walter,” she commanded. “Quiet. Good boy.” And she closed the French doors before him. The dog whined, then jumped on his hind legs, placing his front paws on the glass for balance.
Something thudded against the bedroom door. A long pause, and then another thud.
Amy and Marie waited with bated breath.
Nothing else happened.
“I think it is gone,” Marie murmured. “Maybe it went down the stairs again.”
“You’re probably right. But let’s wait for a few more minutes before we –”
A massive tearing sound, like splintering wood, reached their ears. Seconds later, the door came crashing down, followed by a drawn-out snarl.
Walter began scratching at the glass in earnest, his barks muffled.
There was no way Amy and Marie could defend themselves with closet rods; they weren’t strong or sharp enough to pierce flesh, let alone a skull. Amy didn’t waste another second. She grabbed Marie by the upper arm and pulled her toward the balcony, opening and closing the glass doors as quietly as she could. Understanding immediately, the Korean woman scooped Walter into her arms and climbed onto the balustrade, but soon paused. She glanced down at Amy, a tremulous smile on her lips.
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