by Ryan Casey
Tickled the trigger.
“You really don’t want to do that.”
The voice caught Riley off-guard. It came from his left, from his good ear.
He swung around.
Saw a man standing there with another damned shotgun pointed right at him. Only this guy didn’t look like a biker. He was wearing a tan jacket. His long blond hair, mangled with dirt, waved in the wind.
“Get the fuck off me!”
Riley looked back and saw that a younger guy—a black guy with a buzzcut, also without a biker’s jacket—was pointing a shotgun at Jordanna’s head. He barked at her to get down on her knees. Didn’t look like the kind of guy Riley wanted to mess around with—or the kind of guy anyone would want to mess around with, for that matter.
“This conversation’ll go a whole lot better if you drop that gun of yours,” the blond guy said.
Riley looked back at him. Thought about shooting him there and then. Weighed up his odds. A second to lift his pistol. A second to fire …
No. No time. Nowhere near enough.
He lowered his gun. Dropped it to the road.
The guy lowered his shotgun and whistled at his companion. He pulled some plastic cables out of his pocket, grabbed Riley’s hands and tightened them around his wrists. “Believe it or not, we just did you a favour there. A massive favour.”
Riley saw the mulleted biker running further and further down the road, further and further into the distance. “I doubt that very highly,” he said.
The blond guy cut the end of Riley’s plastic ties. Patted him on the shoulder. “James is the name. James Savage. That over there’s Gus West. How d’you fancy doing us a favour today?”
Riley saw Jordanna was on her feet again. Ties around her wrists just like him. Rifle on the floor.
“What kind of favour?” Riley asked.
James smiled. Revealed his startlingly white, obviously bleached teeth. “How does taking back the streets of Preston sound to you?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Riley sat on the edge of his bunk bed, hands tied in front of him, as James and Gus checked out the inside of the armoured vehicle.
Jordanna was opposite him. She’d started off by cursing them, kicking off, but given up when she realised she wasn’t getting anywhere.
Riley watched as these two guys checked under the beds. Rooted through the rucksack, looked at their weapons.
Looked at the folders. The folders of Dr Wellingborough’s research.
Weirdly, they didn’t pay much attention to Tiffany or Pedro. Gus just tutted, shook his head when he saw Tiffany.
And then tied her wrists together, too, as well as Pedro’s.
James whistled while he did whatever the hell it was he was doing. He kept the shotgun at his side at all times. Noticed Riley watching him.
“Sorry,” he said. He lifted one of his hands and shook it, a silver watch slipping down his wrist. “About the cuffs. Just looking out for ourselves. We’ve seen enough bullshit on the road to learn not to trust a soul. Or a soulless.”
Riley didn’t respond. Just stared at James.
“What the fuck is all this shit anyway?” Gus asked, as he ransacked the bag.
Jordanna opened her mouth to speak.
Riley glared at her.
She shut her mouth again. She wasn’t saying a word, and neither was Riley.
Gus sighed. Shrugged. “Believe it or not, we did you two a favour out there.”
“A favour?” Jordanna snapped. “By—by stopping us capturing that biker?”
“By stopping you getting yourself bountied.”
Jordanna shook her head. “They’ve got our friends. Those people. They’ve … A woman, Tamara. And … and a girl. Chloë. About Tiffany’s age.”
Gus looked up at James. Fear in his eyes.
James scratched his nose and cleared his throat. “A … a girl?”
Jordanna nodded. Stared ahead at the floor. It was the most defeated Riley had ever seen her. Her lips quivered. “She … she’s only a kid. She’s tough but … but she’s only a kid.”
James and Gus held a fear-stricken gaze at one another. A gaze that Riley didn’t like, not one bit.
He wanted to ask them why they looked so scared about the bikers abducting Tamara and Chloë—Chloë in particular—but Tiffany had tears streaming down her cheeks as it was. He didn’t want to go scaring her anymore.
“This van,” James said. He waved his hand around the place. “It looks … well. Important. Like nothin’ else we’ve seen driving through Preston in time. What’s your story?”
Riley glared at him. The ties around his wrists chapped against his skin. “Why should we tell you our story when you’ve just cuffed us up?”
James shook his head. “Again—we’re sorry about that—”
“Then uncuff us.”
James went to respond. He glanced at Gus, who simply shrugged.
“What’s your names?” James asked. “At least give me your names. You know ours. It’s just … just common courtesy. That sorta thing.”
Riley exchanged a glance with Jordanna. Pedro lay flat on the bed that the two men had lifted him onto.
These people. They didn’t seem like bad people.
But Riley had seen enough bad people masquerading as good people to get worried about anyone he encountered.
He took in a deep breath of the sweat-ridden air. Looked James right in his eyes, then Gus. “I’m Riley. Riley Jameson.”
James nodded. Smiled. “Good. That’s a start.” He turned around. Looked at Jordanna. “How about—”
“Fuck off,” she said.
James tilted his head. “Well, okay. Maybe not quite as good a start. But it’ll do.”
He turned back to Riley. “Riley. You have to understand why we cuffed you. Why we stopped you shooting that man out there on the bike.”
“They’re dangerous people,” Gus cut in. His voice was unsteady.
“Very dangerous,” James said. “And those bikers just so happen to run these streets now. So it’s wise not to mess with ‘em, especially if they have two of your own.”
Riley shuffled back against the wall. “What … How long have they been … How long have they run the streets?”
“A good month. Maybe six weeks. Forever in this shithole of a world. The days are longer. Dunno if you noticed that. You lot look pretty clean and tidy ‘cept for baldie on the bed over here.” He pointed at Pedro. “Have someplace nice and safe of your own?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Riley said. “What matters is getting our people back. And we can’t do that as long as we’re stuck in these fucking ties.”
“You shouldn’t swear round kids,” Gus said. He poked his thumb at Tiffany. She hadn’t said a word during this entire ordeal. “You mighta lost your humanity. Don’t mean they have to lose their innocence.”
Riley thought about Chloë. The gold ring outside Dr Wellingborough’s office. The things she’d done. “I’m not sure how true that is,” he said.
“You say we can take back the city,” Jordanna said. “How?”
James stepped into the middle of the vehicle. He did a lot of walking around, this man. The sound of his brown boots banging against the metal floor of this sleeping area was giving Riley a nasty headache. “The bikers. They have numbers, but they’re dumb. I mean, don’t get me wrong—there’s way too many of ‘em for me and Gus here to take them ourselves. Need at least five or six for this to work. Or to maybe work.”
Riley. Jordanna. Gus. James. Tiffany? No. He couldn’t involve Tiffany in this. She was weak. She should’ve stayed at the MLZ after all. Probably safer locked in a room there than out here with all the death, violence and destruction.
“What’s the plan?” Jordanna asked.
James rubbed his lips together. “The bikers. They’re based at Worthington’s down by the docks. D’you know Preston?”
“Too well,” Riley said.
“Right. Well you’ll know abou
t the sewerage system leading under the docks and through to Worthington’s.”
“Jesus,” Jordanna cut in. “He said he knew Preston, not the river his shit flows down.”
James nodded fast. “Right, right. Sorry. I just—”
“Just get on with it,” Riley said.
“Okay. This sewerage system. It leads right up into the middle of Worthington’s. Now, there’s a lot of these bikers. I’d say twenty or so. Always someone back at base, too, so when it was just me and Gus, there’s no way one of us could sneak in while the other distracted.”
“So now there’s four of us, one of us newbies can be your sitting duck?” Riley asked.
“There’s five of us,” Gus said.
He shot a momentary glance in Tiffany’s direction then lowered his head like he hadn’t spoken at all.
Riley felt his chest tense up. “No. We’re not—”
“The only way we’re getting inside that place is if we use the—the ladies here as a … a lure.”
“Bullshit,” Jordanna said. “You worry about swearing in front of fucking kids and now you’re on about using Tiff as a lure?”
“The only other way about it is if we change gender,” James said. His cheeks flushed as his voice raised. “And that isn’t happening fast.”
A silence lifted over the inside of the armoured vehicle. Outside, Riley could hear the wind brushing against the trees. His constant creature footstep radar ticking in his mind didn’t detect a thing. Didn’t help that they didn’t groan as much these days, granted. Maybe they’d learn to start tiptoeing soon, make themselves even harder to detect.
James cleared his throat, broke the silence. “We … we just need a distraction. Tiff—that’s her name, right?—she could flee north from Worthington’s. Catch a few of those bikers’ attention. And … and Miss ‘Fuck Off’ over here—”
“Jordanna,” she spat.
“Jordanna!” James clapped his hands together like a performing seal. “Now we’re getting somewhere. So Jordanna. You flee west. Catch the attention of even more of the bikers. Meanwhile, Riley and Gus enter the sewerage system. Make their way inside. Take out whoever’s left in there, get your friends and bam!”
Riley played out the plan in his mind. It was logical, but risky.
Then again, anything was risky right now. It was just about figuring out which risks were worth it.
“What about you?” Riley asked.
“Me?” James poked a thumb at his chest. “I’ll be wherever Tiff here runs to. I’m sure I’ll figure a way to make sure those numbnuts never rev up a bike again.”
“So you’re watching out for Tiffany,” Jordanna said. “What about me?”
James let out a little laugh. “You’re a tough girl, Jordanna. I’m sure you’ll find a way to handle yourself.”
Riley savoured the silence. Listened to the sound of his pulse clanging in his ears. He knew he had to make a decision. The right decision. But still, any decision was a potentially lethal one. Using Tiffany as bait … that just didn’t sit right.
But sometimes, survival hinged on the ability to sit awkwardly.
“Tiffany?” Riley said.
She looked up from her knees. Her dark hair clung to her face with a mixture of tears and sweat. Her chin wobbled as she did all she could to stop herself bursting into tears again.
“You … you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to—”
“I’ll do it,” Tiffany said.
The words took Riley by surprise. Lit a flame in his chest. “You … you will?”
Tiffany sniffed up. Sat upright, like she was readying herself to give a speech to a class of fellow students. “If—if it means getting Chloë and—and Tamara back, I’ll do it. I have to do it.”
Riley wanted to remind Tiffany that she didn’t have to do it. That she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do.
But he knew that was a lie.
Everyone had to do things they didn’t want to do in the Dead Days.
“So,” James said, rubbing his hands together. “That settles that. Shall we get started?”
James pulled the armoured vehicle in at the side of the docks opposite Worthington’s Bike Emporium.
He pointed through the window, over the completely still water of Preston Docks. “The sewerage tunnel leads right under the docks, right past McDonalds and Morrisons. Leads right out in the middle of Worthington’s.”
Riley stared at the water. The water that he’d poured Ted’s ashes into less than half a year ago. He rolled his window down with his newly un-cuffed hands. Smelled the air as it brushed against his face. It used to smell of chips down here. Fish and chips pumping out from a chippy just along the docklands. He’d come here when he was younger. Go bowling with some friends, grab some chips on the way back and sling the soggy ones into the water for the seagulls to swarm around.
He used to come here with Ted to watch whatever new movie was out that Riley didn’t actually care about. Just something to keep Ted happy.
Or so he claimed.
Really, he enjoyed the company of his best friend. Maybe he should’ve told him that more often.
“How do you know so much about this place, anyway?” Jordanna asked. She was still in the back of the vehicle seeing to Tiffany and Pedro. Pedro’s eyes were still closed. Riley wondered whether he’d ever open them again.
Gus and James exchanged a glance. Gus looked down at the floor of the car. “These bikers. They … they took someone of mine. My daughter. My Khaila. I … I watched them take her down this sewage path. Watched them from a distance. I … I wanted to go after them so bad, but James, he …”
Gus paused. Wiped the corners of his eyes. Didn’t make eye contact with anyone as he spoke.
“I wanted to go find her, but James was right. We … we had to bide our time. Wait for the right time to strike. And we’ve watched them. Watched the bikers, how they work, the times they go off scouting, the directions they go in. When … when you’re watching someone for so long, they become predictable. You learn their ways. Their methods.”
Riley looked across the water of the docklands. Nerves bubbled up inside him. His throat was dry and he could feel a hunger deep within. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, the last time he’d drank anything. He thought of Gus’s daughter, Khaila. “How long has she …”
“Six days,” Gus said. “Six days feels like six years when you know your daughter is in the hands of people like them bikers.”
“And what makes you think she’s still alive?” Jordanna asked.
Riley swung around. Glared at Jordanna. Gus and James looked similarly unimpressed.
She lifted her hands up. “Sorry. I’ve just gotta ask. I mean, if these people are as bad as you say they are—”
“I have to hope,” Gus said. He took in a long breath. “Because without hope, what do we have left?”
Riley patted Gus on the shoulder. “We’ll get her back. We’ll do what we can.”
“I worry we won’t even get her back if we do rescue her. The things they’ll do to her. The things they’ll have done. She won’t be my little girl anymore.”
Just seeing the bloodshot pain in Gus’ eyes made Riley feel nauseous. Nauseous at the thought of what these bikers could be doing to Chloe and Tamara—what they’d already done to them, and what they’d got planned.
“We’d better get going,” James said, tapping on his silver watch. “One group goes scouting at twelve, every day without fail.”
“Time is it?” Riley asked. Wasn’t a question he ever thought he’d ask again out in this dangerous world.
“Five past,” James said. He handed Riley a rifle, like it was his to hand out. Handed Gus one too. “You have about ten minutes to get across the sewerage system. You wait until you hear some of the bikers shouting the second time before you head inside. That’ll be Jordanna’s cue.”
Jordanna loaded up her pistol. Shook her head. “St
ill can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. You okay, Tiff?”
Tiffany held a pistol in her shaking hand. She looked through the grating, then up at Jordanna. Nodded nervously. “I … I think.”
“I think is good enough,” James said. He started up the engine of the armoured vehicle again. Drove a little further up the cobbled pathway at the side of the docks, which was guarded by new housing developments that Riley had always fancied living in one day. But even those seemed alien, unreal. Like something out of a model home, never before lived in, never to be lived in again.
Gus opened the door. Climbed out onto the pathway. Riley hopped out after him.
“Riley.”
Riley looked around. Jordanna was staring at him through the grating. The stern seriousness had gone from her face. In its place, she actually looked at Riley … like she gave a shit?
“Good luck,” she said.
Riley smiled. Grabbed the side door of the van. “Don’t sound too enthusiastic.”
He went to close the door.
“No, I mean it,” Jordanna said. She looked down. Gave Riley a little momentary glance that was just about the most intimate, unguarded look she’d ever given him. “Good luck. Get—get Chloe back. Please.”
Riley nodded. He kept his eyes locked with Jordanna’s, then slammed the door of the armoured vehicle.
“Ready to do this?” Gus asked.
Riley turned around. Looked at the water, so still, so unmoving. Listened to the complete, uncharacteristic silence of these docklands, a whole world away from the buzzing metropolis of life that they once were.
“Let’s get on with it,” Riley said.
The armoured vehicle sprung to life, drove away, and Riley and Gus headed down the walkway at the side of the dockland waters towards the manhole cover.
***
Harrison Fletcher waited for the sounds of the bikes to pass completely before rising from under the covers of the bed and creeping over to the window.
He didn’t grab hold of the edge of the curtains at first. Waited to make sure he couldn’t hear anyone outside, or see the silhouette of someone passing by. He couldn’t be seen. He couldn’t alert anyone to his presence.
