“She’s not alone,” Rick mutters.
“Huh?” Dan returns.
“How do you know?”
“She was pushed into the street.”
“Hi!” the woman calls though she doesn’t move forward.
“Hi,” Cassie calls back, a note of anxiety in her voice, and she clutches the rucksack tighter. “Why isn’t she moving?”
Rick looks across the street and checks again for movement, keeping the stolid woman in his peripheral vision.
“She looks like she’s hurt, Dan. Rick, do you see her face—she looks bruised—like she’s been beaten up or something.”
“Yeah,” replies Dan. “She’s a sight—that’s for sure.”
“Cassie!” Rick calls. “Come back.”
Ignoring him she strides towards the woman, asks if she needs help.
“Cassie!” Dan echoes.
Rick takes quick steps behind Cassie, his eyes flitting from the woman to the alley she’d been pushed from, and checking for any signs of movement. The woman towers above Cassie as she stops in front of her, her voice drowned out by a sudden scraping and Dan’s gargled shout from behind. Startled, he swivels, but as he turns away from Cassie the fat woman lurches forward and grabs for her. In front of him now, a man, his hair dishevelled, a wild look in his red-rimmed eyes, has Dan by the throat. A blade presses into Dan’s exposed jugular, forcing him off-balance as he’s dragged back. Cassie screams and Rick swings back as the fat woman grapples with her, pulls at Cassie’s rucksack, yanks her back into the dark of the alleyway. He holds his gun up, safety off and points. He can’t get a clear shot, they’re shuffling and moving too quickly. The woman has her arm around Cassie’s waist but instead of cowering in fear, Cassie is riled and he watches in awe as she jumps and flings her head back hard against the fat woman, smashing the back of her head into her face. The woman screams and jerks her head back but doesn’t let go. Cassie grabs the woman’s arm, her strong fingers pressing down into the ample flesh and pulls forward, kicking her leg back. As he runs to them, the fat woman over-balances and crashes to the floor, head slamming against the kerb and bounces off the hard tarmac. Pushing white-blonde hair back from her face, Cassie recovers as Rick stands over the hefty woman. He watches as she heaves a breath, twitches, then lies deathly still, her eyes rolled to white.
“Is she dead?” Cassie asks, looking down in horror.
“I don’t know. Maybe. She’s knocked out whatever.”
“Dan!” Cassie gasps. “Where is he?”
“Her partner took him,” he explains nodding his head towards the alley at the other side of the building as he steps away from the hulking carcass at his feet.
“Partner?”
“This way,” he nods to Cassie.
Running, he careers round the entrance to the alleyway, ahead of him amidst the thrashing and scuffling the wild-looking man holds Dan down to the glass-littered ground by the hair. He slams his head against a puke-green, commercial dumpster.
Dan grunts as the dishevelled man kicks at his back then turns, his eyes wild, blood-shot. Rick grinds to a halt, training his gun on the man. He doesn’t flinch at the weapon pointing towards him. Got me a psycho!
“Dan!” Cassie screams as the man hauls Dan to his knees his right arm firmly clenched under his chin. In his left, the sharp blade presses to Dan’s temple.
“God’s work,” he shouts. “I’m doing God’s work.”
“Rick, do something,” Cassie begs turning to him.
Rick stares at the two men and a flicker of recognition, or perhaps a memory, stirs. The heat is suddenly overwhelming and the smell, sweat mixed with fear and the stench of death, fills his nostrils. He’s back in Iraq and the enemy soldier has Baker by the neck, a gun points at his temple. Rick holds his rifle and points it at the men, desperate to get his friend away from this killer. A trickle of sweat rolls from beneath his helmet down over his forehead, threatening to drip into his eye. He can’t wait until it does so pulls the trigger. A perfect hole sits black on the enemy’s forehead as time seems to stop and he falls bloodied, his arm slipping from Baker’s neck. Rick’s belly lurches with a sickening roll at the memory, but as he looks into Dan’s eyes a wave of startled recognition washes over his senses.
“Morgan. You’re Dan Morgan,” Rick states, his voice flat, hoarse.
“Rick! You’ve got a gun. Shoot him!”
“I should,” he mutters.
Rick raises his gun and stares at Dan’s bulging eyes, his head pressed back against the crazy’s filthy t-shirt, his head held high by a track-marked arm.
“You’re Dan Morgan,” he repeats.
The wild man pulls Dan closer to him, pushes the blade a little deeper into the skin of his temple.
“I-”
“Shut up!” the wild man shouts yanking at Dan’s throat. “God’s work. I’m doing God’s work. Ridding the world of its filth.”
“Rick! Do Something. Don’t just stand there staring. Shoot him.”
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shove this blade straight into his skull. I can do it. Don’t you doubt it. Doing God’s wo-ugh!” His eyes stare and eyeballs bulge as he doubles up. Rick watches as the man growls in pain, pulls his arm even tighter round Dan’s neck as spasms torture his body. The blade scratches the side of Dan’s face, a trace of red follows. Dan gurgles.
“He can’t breathe!” Cassie screams and steps towards them, her arms held out, palms flat.
“Please, let him go. He won’t harm you. What is it you want? I’ve got food—food in my rucksack,” she begs, unclipping the catch from around her waist and shrugging the heavy bag to the floor.
“God’s work,” the man screams back in his pain. “He told me. He told me to finish what he started,” he groans through his pain.
“Demented fool,” Rick mumbles and trains the cross-hairs on Dan’s forehead.
“Look! I have chocolate and biscuits,” Cassie offers, panicked, digs inside the bag, retrieving a handful of chocolate bars and waves them in the air. “Please, don’t hurt him. He’s all I’ve got now, please!”
“I’ve got nothing—only that fat cow out there. What’s she worth, eh? Nothing,” he sneers. “He wants me to help clear the earth. Get rid of you all and start again. I’ll be king then. Me! That’s what he said.”
“Who?”
A sneer falls across his face. “You think I’m crazy don’t you? Just some druggie loser whose lost his mind. Well, I’ll tell you this. I know what I have to do. I know I have to rid the earth of scum like you. Why do you think we’ve got this plague? Eh?”
“It was a virus—brought back from the ice—it got out and the antibiotics don’t work anymore.”
“No!” he screams. “No! It was God’s plan.”
“No. It was Dan Morgan’s mistake,” Rick interrupts, a look of disgust etched across his face as he stares down the cross-hairs.
“Rick! Please. He’s going to kill him.”
“God’s work,” the wild man shouts and raises the blade.
Rick stares at Dan’s reddening face as he thrashes, pulls at the tight arm beneath his chin, desperate for air. He remembers the news reports—the people crowding outside the hospitals, the woman in the supermarket, the members of his unit—all dead because of this man—this greedy man who thought nothing of the terror he would unleash—only the size of his bank balance—and squeezes the trigger hard.
“Dan!”
The wild man slumps, a bullet clean through the middle of his forehead, blood sprays out behind him and he slumps back, his arm pulling Dan back with him.
“Dan!” Cassie cries again and runs forward, stumbling as she reaches him then drops to her knees as Dan pulls at the psycho’s arm and throws it from him, gasping for breath.
Rick walks to them, kicks at the dead man’s feet, and grunts with satisfaction as they lay solid and heavy on the ground, no movement.
“Eighty-six,” he mutters.
“Thank you,” Dan says, holding
out his hand to Rick.
“That’s another man who has had to die because of you,” Rick says quietly, looking straight at Dan, ignoring his hand.
“He deserved it,” Cassie spits back.
Dan sags and shifts his gaze to the floor, drops his hand to his side. Cassie pulls him tighter to her and stares back into Rick’s hardened face.
“Don’t Rick. Please. Dan’s been through so much.”
“Hah! He’s been through so much!” he exclaims kicking at the grit and cigarette stubs at his feet. He shakes his head and turns his back to the pair. “It’s getting late,” he says looking up to the sky “I’ve got to get out of this Godforsaken place.”
“Rick! You’re not going to leave us, are you?”
He stops for a moment, but doesn’t turn—doesn’t want to see the fear in her eyes. Helping the man who destroyed the world is not something he can stomach and he takes another step away from them.
“Please! Rick!” she begs. “We can’t get out of here without you.”
He turns and looks at the pair, and though anger grinds within him, he knows he can’t leave her to fend for herself—not with him.
“Come on then,” he says and turns again to walk away. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to help her?
Chapter 14
As the car pulls away from the verge, Cassie leans out of the window and breathes deep from the freshness of the air. Wind ruffles through her hair as it picks up speed, blowing out the stench of the city, its towers monoliths of black against the orange of the setting sun. She shudders as she takes a final look at the horizon and winds up the window. Her hair drops, windswept and tangled, and she sags back into the deep seat, grabs the bottle held between her knees and takes a sip of the tepid water.
“How far to your friend’s farm?” she asks looking to the driver’s seat where the soldier sits, both hands firmly on the wheel, but resting. His eyes catch hers in the rear-view mirror.
“About three hundred miles north, up in the Pennines—Northumberland.”
“Northumberland! But—but that’s near Scotland isn’t it?” Cassie exclaims, fatigue waving over her, hunger gnawing at her belly. “Have we got enough fuel to get us there?”
“Nope.”
“What’ll we do then?”
“We’ll find a petrol station.”
“How’ll you get the fuel?” Dan asks, rousing, waking from his fitful sleep. He’d jolted her awake a few times with his unconscious shouts. Cassie reaches over the back of the passenger seat and strokes his cheek, but quickly pulls her hand back when he flinches.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he replies reaching a hand to his shoulder, searching for her fingers. “I’m a little jumpy—after the city!”
“Yeah, it was awful wasn’t it, babe.”
“How can get the petrol from the pumps,” Dan repeats.
“What do you mean how?” asks Rick, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.
“Well, there’ll be no-one there to operate them. It’s not like you can just pick up the nozzle and fill up your car. It’s all electronic. The pumps might not work.”
“You’re right!” Rick replies. Cassie watches as his thick, tanned fingers run through his greying hair and doesn’t doubt that he’ll know what to do. “We’ll figure it out once we get there,” he reassures.
“Rick?”
“Yeah!”
“When we get to the farm, you … well, you won’t tell them about Dan will you, please?
“Cassie!”
“I mean, you’ve brought us this far so you must know it wasn’t really his fault or something, or-”
“No,” Rick replies, looking across to Dan and scrutinizing his face before turning back to the road ahead. “I don’t know that it wasn’t his fault, but I won’t say anything. Becca and Justin are good people though. I don’t want to deceive them.”
“No. I get that. But … but there’s no need for them to know. My mum always said, ‘what they don’t know don’t hurt them.’”
“Yeah. Listen. I won’t say anything, but if they ask, well … then I’ll have to tell them the truth.”
“OK. Perhaps they won’t recognise him, I mean, it’s not as if he’s famous or anything is it.”
“No, Cassie, he’s not famous. He’s just the biggest mass murderer in the history of the world.”
Dan groans, sinks back into his seat, and stares out of the window.
“Don’t say that Rick. It wasn’t Dan’s fault.”
“Listen, I don’t want to fall out with you. We’ve got to stick together now. We’re going to have to help each other survive—look out for each other. I don’t know what we’re going to find out here in the country, but human nature … well … some people like to help each other and others … they just turn bad.”
Cassie turns again to look out of the window, her fingers grasping Dan’s. They’d be the ones to help—not the ones who turned bad. They had to be. That’s how they’d make things better.
“Rick! Up ahead. There’s a sign for the services. There’ll be petrol there.”
“There will,” he replies dryly and indicates to turn left off the highway. “Hah!”
“What you laughing at?” Cassie asks as a broad smile breaks onto Rick’s face. It’s the first time she’s seen him smile and seeing the crow’s feet around his eyes, laughter lines her mum had always called them, although she’d had precious little to laugh about, make her smile too.
“Indicating. I indicated, but there’s no one else to see it, no other cars on the road.”
She laughs. “No police either—no one to catch us speeding.”
“True.”
“It’s like starting again isn’t it,” Cassie says as the car climbs up the ramp to the round-about at the top, the indicator switched to off.
“I guess.”
“It’s like a fresh start. We’ll be able to build life the way we want it.”
“Didn’t you like the one you had?”
“Yeah, sure I did,” she says squeezing Dan’s hand again. “I loved my life. I just mean—the rules and stuff—we can make up our own now.”
“I guess we can,” Dan joins in.
“We can even have a new king or queen,” she continues as the car pulls to the top of the ramp and takes the first left into the driveway of the petrol station. “Well, if the old ones are dead, which I guess they probably are.”
Now they’re higher, she can see the spread of low buildings surrounded by a vast expanse of tarmac with its neatly segmented parking bays. Planters set at each side of the glass doors and filled with topiary, complete the country cottage look. Beneath the tiles, huge plate glass windows sit dark and blind against the setting sun.
“This is quaint!”
“Oh, Cassie, you are daf-.”
“What the!
Cassie jolts forward as Rick slams on the brakes. A row of barrels, chairs and tables block the entrance.
“Looks like someone doesn’t want us to get in.”
“I can’t see anyone,” Dan says suddenly alert, scrutinizing the low buildings.
Rick sits quiet, scanning the area.
“What’re we going to do?” Cassie asks, looking at the car’s dashboard. “We’re nearly out of fuel—that red light’s on.”
“Don’t worry,” Rick soothes. “We’ll get some,” he says staring out at the scene ahead, hand on door handle. His door swings open. “Stay there,” he commands as Cassie reaches across to open her own door. It won’t budge. A child lock!
“Hey, I’m stuck.”
“I said stay there, Cassie.”
“But I want to help.”
“Stay there, Cassie,” Dan repeats, opening his own door.
Cassie sighs in frustration. Men always think they’re bigger and braver. She’ll show them. She reaches for the handle of the window, winds it down and grasps for the handle of the door from the outside, a det
ermined grimace on her face as she reaches over. The door opens a fraction and she pulls her arm back, pushes it open and jumps out, patting at the hunting knife strapped to her belt, the rough canvas of her khaki combats rustling as she slips out. She feels stronger in this gear, more like she did when she was with Milo. He’d said she was a natural. She’d show the boys a thing or two—show Rick that she wasn’t a blonde bimbo.
“I’m not a kid,” she calls to Dan and Rick as they peer over the top of the barricade.
“Shh!” Rick reprimands as she steps next to Dan and looks down at her with a frown. “OK,” she whispers, “but I’m not.”
“I know. Now listen. Do you hear that?”
She listens.
“There it is again,” Dan whispers. “It sounds like it’s coming from inside the building.”
“I can’t hear anything. Are we going in?” she says stepping forward.
“No. Cassie! Stop.”
Ignoring the command, she steps forward and picks up the chair nearest to her.
“Cassie! What are you doing?”
“I’m getting us in there.”
“We need to make sure it’s safe first.”
“Well, how long do you want to wait? It’s getting dark and I’d rather see what’s in there whilst it’s still light.”
Rick looks at her with … what? Admiration. Yes, she’s sure it’s admiration, and raises her brows, waiting for his agreement.
“She’s right,” he says turning to Dan. “Whoever’s in there will come out if we start pulling this barricade apart. If they don’t, then I guess that means they don’t see us as a threat.”
“OK,” replies Dan and he smiles at Cassie. She holds his gaze for a second, sees the flicker of something more than the self-pity she’s seen buried deep there for the past weeks. She smiles back.
“Let’s do this then,” Rick commands. “Just keep your wits about you. We don’t know who put up this barricade, or if they’re still here. If they are … things could get nasty.”
“I guess we’ll soon find out.”
“When we’re in the field … take notice of everything—the trees, the buildings. Any sign of movement—let us know.”
“Yes, sir!” Cassie jokes.
The Road to Ruin: A post-apocalyptic survival series (A World Torn Down Book 1) Page 8
