by Ryan Casey
Andy struggled when he saw it. Saw them. Hanging from the trees. Naked. Dead.
No.
Not dead.
Still wriggling away.
Still crying.
Still—
“You must be exhausted,” the man said. He stepped around the fire. Looked right at Andy with his vacant, dead stare. “But I have to ask you a question, friend. A real honest question.”
Someone snatched the tape from his mouth. Sent a shooting pain through his lip in the process.
The sour stench got stronger.
“I—I don’t mean you harm,” Andy said, fully aware of how much he looked like he was shitting it, how terrified he looked.
The man smiled. Tightened his grip on Andy’s shoulder. “Nor do we. We don’t mean you no harm at all, friend.”
The half-dead bodies struggled on the ropes above.
Ropes wrapped around their wrists.
Gags around their mouths.
Legs chopped away, blood dripping to the ground, flies and maggots feasting on the wounds.
“Just one question. One quick question then we can get this over with, hmm?”
Andy tried to turn but someone grabbed the side of his head, made him look back ahead, back at the fire, the hanging bodies, the dead-eyed man.
He moved his hands away. Put them back behind his priest’s robes.
And then he asked the question.
“Are you ready to be enlightened, friend?”
Andy wasn’t sure what he said in return.
Because he saw the girl standing by the fire.
Holding the blade into the flames.
The marking etched onto her naked chest, just above her petite breasts.
CoY
“Friend, you’re gonna have to answer me if you want to—”
“Just get me back. Get me back. Please.”
The man stayed just as dead-eyed. Kept on staring at Andy. Smiling. But a darkness seemed to descend over his face. A twitch of his eyebrows. A quiver of his bottom lip.
He stepped back. Sighed.
“That is a shame,” he said.
He took the blade from the girl.
So hot it had turned red.
“But don’t worry. God will still find a purpose for you.”
He grabbed Andy’s left hand.
Yanked his arm so hard it snapped out of its socket.
Andy screamed. He thought he’d felt pain. Thought he’d experienced agony as these people held him back, covered his mouth, stopped him wriggling and struggling away.
He thought he’d experienced agony.
But then the man pressed the searing hot blade right against Andy’s forearm, and as his skin crackled and burned, Andy knew true agony.
At least, he thought he did.
CHAPTER TWELVE
RILEY
As Riley watched the sunrise, he figured it might just be the most beautiful he’d ever seen.
He walked through the overgrown garden area of the cottage, gun in hand. Maybe part of his admiration for the scenery was something to do with him getting older. The smell of morning dew. The feel of it against his ankles as he waded through the grass. The taste of freshness, of spring, and the chorus of birdsong. He’d always liked spring. Always his favourite season. The transition from the darkness of winter—the time when his anxieties always peaked—to the optimism of summer. A spark of life in a sea of death.
And right now, moving through the grass, the cottage behind him, he felt decidedly normal. This day felt decidedly normal. Like they were just on holiday. Camping out in the middle of nowhere.
A moment of bliss he treasured. Because that’s all there ever was now. Moments of bliss. Milliseconds of peace. You never knew when your time was up. When the ticking time-bomb that decided your fate was going to explode.
Only that it was. Eventually, it was.
And the sooner you could accept that, the sooner you could conquer all the demons this new world had to offer, the stronger you could be.
“Always hated spring,” Jordanna said.
Riley looked at her. Walking by his side, blue jeans turned up at the ankles, white shirt torn and partly undone near the neck. Her forehead was bruised but the bleeding had stopped. And she seemed fine in herself. Which was something, of course. They’d lost so many people over the last few days. So many that it felt like a lifetime of loss. Pedro. Tiffany. Kelly. Andy.
The bodies kept on stacking up.
But they had to keep on living in the moment.
Keep on appreciating.
“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Riley said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Riley shook his head. “Ever the raving cynic, that’s all.”
Jordanna punched Riley in his left arm. A punch that was a decent enough announcement that she was fine, absolutely fine. “Says the guy who couldn’t buy a smile.”
“Hey,” Riley said. “I’m smiling.”
“That’s not a smile.”
He watched the frown lift from Jordanna’s head as they wandered towards the trees, into the shade. Saw the glimmer of a smile. And she was so beautiful. So damned beautiful.
He didn’t want to leave her behind—
No. He couldn’t think about his death. He couldn’t think about the inevitable. That was decided. It was happening. Done. Nothing he could do about it. Just accept. Accept and enjoy the moment.
Accept and shut off all thoughts.
“I’m thinking maybe we could stay here.”
The frown returned to Jordanna’s face. “Back at Hotel Mouldy?”
“Just for a few days. While we all get … get settled. Recuperated. That sorta thing.”
“You forgetting what happened last night? To Andy?”
Riley hadn’t forgotten a thing that’d happened last night. He hadn’t forgotten rushing out into the kitchen area and finding Jordanna in a puddle of blood. He hadn’t forgotten what Jordanna told him—the man with the long hair. His people. People who’d taken Andy away for whatever reason.
Maybe he was Mr Fletch’s spy.
Maybe.
“We can make sure we have someone on lookout,” Riley said, as he walked further along, the grass getting taller, thicker.
“And when that lookout gets Andy-ed?”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
Jordanna opened her mouth. She looked like she was about to say something.
Then she closed her mouth. Half-smiled. “I guess another day won’t hurt. On your right.”
“What—”
Riley heard the gasp. Heard it appear out of nowhere. He turned to his right. Didn’t see anything at first.
Then he saw the grass shaking.
Looked down and saw a creature dragging itself along. A legless creature. Some of its greying, rotting skin all charred like the unwanted meat from a barbecue.
“You got this or me?” Jordanna said.
“I’ve got it,” Riley said, stepping forward. He crouched down over the creature, and as he did the creature looked up at him with those milky-white cataract eyes. Those pitiful eyes.
Riley saw something in them. Just for the briefest second. Saw the human behind them. The woman that this creature once was a long, long time ago.
Then he cracked her between the eyes with his hammer.
“S’pose Chloë likes this place,” Jordanna said. “Seems … seems settled. And I don’t want us moving again until I know she’s totally fine. Y’know?”
Riley stepped back to his feet. “We’ll be waiting a long time then.”
“For what?”
“For Chloë to be fine.” He stopped. Looked around. The woods was quiet. As the old cliché goes, too quiet. “I don’t think she’ll ever be fine. Don’t think any of us will.”
A branch snapping on the left.
Birds flapping their wings, flying away.
Riley saw another creature. This one was also dragging itself along. Also missi
ng both legs. Skin also charred.
“You got this one?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” Jordanna said. She walked over to the creature. Lifted her knife as it thrashed and wretched at her, prepared to stab.
“Wait,” Riley said.
It was too late to “save” the creature. Jordanna already had her knife through it, blood was already trickling out of its temple in a thick black stew.
But Riley could still see the marking on its left forearm.
The branding.
Then the letters.
Three letters.
CoY
“James said something about these letters,” Riley said, crouching beside Jordanna and inspecting the creature’s body. “About seeing them upstairs, something like that. And back when we bumped into Kelly … Hold up a sec.”
He ran over to the other creature, the one he’d put down.
Saw the saw mark on its forearm.
The same letters.
CoY
“What d’you think it means?” Jordanna asked.
Riley wiped the creature’s blood onto his jeans and looked around. Flies buzzing. No birds singing. Nothing else. “I think it gives us an idea who we’re looking out for.”
“Sometimes I wonder whether you were right. About there being other good people left.”
Riley stood back up. Looked over at the cottage. “Sometimes I wonder that too. But I keep telling myself there has to be more than this. More than just us.”
“Maybe it’s not such a bad thing if it is just us,” Jordanna said.
“What d’you …”
Riley didn’t finish what he was saying.
There was something in the woods.
Something standing right behind Jordanna.
Looking right into Riley’s eyes with piercing blue eyes of its own.
Something tall.
Familiar.
Deadly.
The entire woods seemed to freeze. Jordanna was saying things but Riley couldn’t think. Couldn’t process them.
He put a hand on Jordanna’s arm.
“There’s … We need to get back to the cottage. Right now.”
“What’re you—”
“There’s an Orion right behind you. We need to go. Right this second.”
They didn’t go right that second. Neither of them. And neither did the Orion. It just crouched there. Breathed heavily. Stared at Riley and at Jordanna, its sharp teeth reflecting in the sun, clear fluid running down its thick black flesh; thicker and shinier than any Orion Riley had ever seen.
Riley held his breath.
Heart racing.
He pulled Jordanna towards him.
And the second he did—the split second he moved—so too did the Orion.
Towards him.
Towards both of them.
“Run!”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DOCTOR OTTOMAN
Doctor Ottoman opened his eyes to a familiar feeling of dread right at the pit of his stomach.
Dread about the things he knew.
The secrets he held inside his head.
Secrets and revelations he’d tried to keep restrained for so, so long.
Secrets and revelations that had to surface.
Today.
He stood up. The curtains of the upstairs bedroom were pulled wide apart, sunlight peeking through the smudged glass. Doctor Ottoman never liked the sunny months. Always found them overrated. People longed for summer, spent all winter begging for its swift arrival. And when it finally did arrive, they moaned about it. Moaned about the heat. Moaned about the wasps. Moaned about the humidity of their lounge, or the fruit in the bowl going off way too fast.
And when summer passed, it was on to moaning about winter, longing for summer again. On the cycle went.
But Doctor Ottoman had bigger things than his dislike for sunshine on his mind right now.
He had the truth on his mind.
The truth that he needed to see Riley about.
That he needed to tell him.
He didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t understand it, not truly. After all, Riley’s very presence didn’t make sense. The motive of his mission to the BLZ didn’t make sense.
And yet he couldn’t argue with the facts.
Couldn’t argue with his studies.
But now was the time to be honest.
He stepped out of the bedroom and into the corridor. He couldn’t stop his body shaking. Always had been prone to a bout of the shakes. Something his mother always told him would hamper his dream of working in the medical profession. “If you can’t hold your nerve, you’ll never hold a scalpel,” she used to say.
That smug grin on her face.
A condescending fake smile as she pretended to be proud of her boy, enamoured with all his achievements.
But Doctor Ottoman saw the truth behind that smile.
The envy.
The detestation.
For he wasn’t her boy. Not really.
Her boy would respect his mother, not outgrow her.
Her boy would get a nice little job and stay in his nice little bedroom, and oh, don’t worry about those girls, girls are all mean, son, stay at home with your mummy. Look after your mummy.
Be inferior to your mummy to make your mummy feel better.
Walking down this corridor, Doctor Ottoman kind of wished he had.
He could smell something downstairs. Something cooking. Rabbit, no doubt. Rabbit or rat or squirrel. The usual options on the end of the world’s wonderfully broad menu. He didn’t tell anyone he was a vegetarian before the world collapsed. After all, what use was a vegetarian in a world built on the consumption of others?
What kind of a sick joke was a vegetarian in a world where people—living and dead—feasted on one another every single day?
“You okay, Doc?”
The voice made him jump. He swung around. Saw Tamara standing there staring at him. Blonde hair hanging on the shoulders of her grey T-shirt. Inquisitive eyes. Nice girl. Just unfortunate. Another girl with a dark future ahead. With a world of horrors she wasn’t ready to understand.
A world of horrors she could never understand.
Growing right inside her belly.
“Tamara,” Doctor Ottoman said, clearing his throat and forcing a smile. “I was … I was just hoping to find Riley. Something I need to talk to him about.”
“You’re out of luck,” she said, walking past him towards the staircase. “He left with Jordanna to go catch round two of brekkie not long ago.”
Doctor Ottoman’s stomach sank. No. He couldn’t hold on. He couldn’t wait any longer. He’d psyched himself up to tell Riley. To explain everything to him. Psyched himself up so much that he could taste vomit. Vomit that always accompanied the nerves.
Vomit that always accompanied a revelation.
“Something you need to get off your chest?” Tamara asked.
“No, I …”
And then Doctor Ottoman stopped.
He wanted to say no. He wanted to turn around and walk away. He wanted to wait. Wait before opening up. Wait for Riley to return. Because he couldn’t be long. He was never away long.
But his hands. So shaky. The vomit taste growing even stronger in his mouth.
“You sure you’re okay?” Tamara asked.
Doctor Ottoman lifted his head.
He looked right in her eyes.
And then, against his better judgement, he opened his mouth. “There’s something I need Riley to understand. Something I need all of you to understand.”
Tamara’s eyes narrowed. “About … Understand about what?”
Doctor Ottoman cleared his throat. Still time to turn away. Still time to walk. Still—
No. No time to turn.
Just say it.
Spit it out.
Tell the truth.
“Understand about what, Doctor?”
“Understand about Jim Hall,” Doctor Ottoman said.
Tamara’s frown extended. “What about Jim Hall? What do you know about Jim Hall?”
“I’m not sure I can—”
“What about Jim Hall?”
And then, in no uncertain terms, Doctor Ottoman told Tamara everything.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RILEY
Riley had stared at death plenty of times since the world collapsed, and plenty of times before then.
But right now, sprinting away from the pursuing Orion, Jordanna’s hand in his, he knew his odds of survival were catastrophically worse than ever before.
“Just keep running,” he said, panting as he moved as fast as he could through the trees, through the woods. Every step precious. Every step sacred. “Don’t even think about looking back—”
“It’s getting fucking closer,” Jordanna said. Tightened her grip on Riley’s hand. The pair of them practically dragging one another along. Trying not to trip up over the contorted branches sticking up from the ground, the patches of earth eager to thwart their every step.
And behind them, the Orion gasped, growled, the sound of its footsteps thudding against the damp earth.
The smell of its wretched breath thick in the morning air.
The taste of death lingering.
Riley’s death. Jordanna’s death.
Everyone’s death.
“We’re gonna—gonna have to attack it or—”
“No fucking time,” Riley said. He could feel his ankles tightening, his knees buckling. Branches snapped and scratched against his face. Up ahead, he knew the cottage was waiting. He knew safety and security weren’t far away, not too far away.
But it was too far away with the predator chasing them.
Anywhere was too far away with an Orion on their trail.
The Orion growled. It growled and Riley felt something damp hit the back of his neck. The Orion’s saliva. Its drool.
So close.
So hungry.
He fast became aware that he had to do something.
He had to try something.
Jordanna and him, they both did.
“We need to—to split up.”
“What?”
“We need to split up. Go ... go separate ways. Try and confuse—”
“It’s nearly fucking on us, Riley. We—we can’t split up. Don’t let me go. Please.”
