by Ryan Casey
So now he’d been asked to torture a man with some pliers just to get some information from him… well, it was safe to say that he was well outside his comfort zone.
“Back already?” Steve asked.
Cody took a deep breath of the sour air. He held his body upright and walked towards Steve, not looking at his face, not looking into his eyes. Best to just not view him as another human in a situation like this. View him as something separate. Something different. Something less than what he was. That’s how people went about torture, right? That’s how they pulled it off? How they did it?
He felt sick right to his stomach. He held the pliers behind his back in his shaky hands. He didn’t want to use them. Didn’t want to resort to that. He hoped he could win Steve over without having to torture information out of him. Maybe there would be a way to strike a deal. Make some kind of agreement.
Sure, Steve had made his position pretty damned clear the last time Cody stood in this room. He wanted taking back to the extraction point, back to his wife and daughter. There was no way he was giving up the location willingly, not without him being there.
And Cody got that. He saw why Steve thought that way. He had himself to think about. He was right. He was nothing but an extra mouth to feed without that information. Right now, the information was the only thing keeping him alive. He got that.
But he just hoped there was another way out of this.
“The extraction point,” Cody said, still not looking Steve in the eye. “Where is it?”
Steve didn’t say anything at first. Then he laughed. “I seem to remember we had this exact conversation a few minutes ago—”
“And you didn’t give me an answer.”
“You know damned well why I didn’t give an answer.”
“Well, now’s the time you start talking.”
He chanced a glance down at Steve, into his eyes. In them, he caught an unwavering reminder of his humanity. Here was a man just trying to survive. A man who’d been trying to do a good thing—spreading word of an extraction point to the rest of the country. Here he was, tied up in a cell, being treated like a prisoner.
And for what?
All in the name of fucking suspicion, that’s what.
All in the name of a lack of trust.
“You’re a complex fellow. One minute you’re all nice, the next minute you’re standing there like a hard man. This your good cop bad cop routine?”
“Don’t push me.”
Steve laughed again, this time raucously. “I’d say you just don’t get it, but I don’t believe that. You do get it. You know exactly why I can’t just tell you where the extraction point is.”
“I do. But I want to know where it is. Right this second.”
“Or fucking what? You’ll send one of your fucking goons in to beat me? Send someone tougher than you in to force the information out of me?”
Cody felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I’m not giving up that location. I’ll never give up that location. It’s the only thing keeping me alive, and I’m not giving it to—”
“Then we’ll just have to try another way, won’t we?”
Cody realised what he’d done right away. He’d raised the pliers. Lifted them into the air so that Steve could see them clearly.
He heard the silence. And as he looked into Steve’s eyes, he saw a glimmer of fear. A genuine look of fear that frightened Cody. He’d tried all his life to be a good person. Tried to do the right thing. Even in the downfall of man, he’d believed in the inherent goodness, the inherent trustworthiness, of man.
But here he was, holding pliers in the air, silently threatening a man to give up the only thing keeping him alive.
Here he was, the man he used to be no more, the monster.
The look of fear soon dropped from Steve’s face. He leaned back, shivering, and smiled. He laughed again. “Go on then. Do it. Do what you have to do. Become the man I know you aren’t really. The person you aren’t, deep down.”
The sickness was so intense in Cody’s stomach that he could taste vomit in his mouth. He lowered the pliers. Took in a deep breath, tried to switch himself off from the reality of the situation. Tried to detach himself from the inevitable. “You have no idea what kind of a person I am.”
Then he crouched down right in front of Steve and lifted the pliers.
He scanned his body in the space of a second. Looked for places he could use the pliers. He imagined wrapping them around Steve’s teeth, pulling them out one by-bloody-one until he finally spoke. He thought about sticking them into his eye sockets, crushing an eye under the force of the metal, but just the thought of doing that made him feel even sicker.
No. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do any of that.
He wasn’t that man.
“I won’t beg,” Steve said. “But think very carefully about this. I mean, think really fucking carefully about this.”
“Stop talking,” Cody said, moving the pliers towards Steve’s fingers. The nails. That’s what he’d do. Pull a nail out at a time. The thought scared him. Horrified him. But it’s what he had to do.
What he had to do.
“If you torture me right now, I definitely won’t be telling any of your people where the extraction point is. Ever.”
“I think you’ll change your mind soon—”
“I won’t. Because why would I let a torturer into my home? Why would I endorse a monster? Why would I let someone like you near my…” He stalled. Looked away, the tears catching in his voice. “Why would I let someone like you near my daughter?”
The mention of his daughter made Cody picture Kelly. The times they’d spent together. The good times they’d shared in her short life. Pushing her on the swing, her asking him to keep swinging higher, higher. The times she’d run outside for an ice cream whenever she heard the sounds of the approaching van, and how the pair of them would sit together in the garden of their house and stare up at the clouds as they passed, telling each other wacky stories.
“Don’t do this,” Steve said. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to become this man. You can still go back.”
Cody felt a warm tear roll down his cheek. He tasted its saltiness on his lips. The pliers were so shaky in his hand. He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to grip on. “Where is it? I won’t ask you again.”
Steve looked into Cody’s eyes. Cody looked back into his. Together, they stared. Together, they cried.
“You know I can’t tell you.”
Cody nodded. He felt his body fall down into a black hole.
“Then I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes and he pressed the pliers down.
He heard the snap.
He pictured Steve’s scream. Pictured him yelping and crying as he ripped the nail from his flesh.
But there was no screaming. No crying.
Cody snapped the ties behind Steve’s wrists, one by one.
“Get out of here,” Cody said, pulling Steve’s hands from out of the ties. “Gav’s gone away for a few minutes. You should have a chance to sneak out the back wall of this place.”
Steve stared at Cody, awestruck. “I need people with me. To get back home—”
“And you’ll find them. But if you don’t get out of this place right now, you won’t be getting back home at all.”
Steve stood up. Shuffled away from Cody. He was still clearly amazed that he was still alive.
“Come with me. Odds of two surviving are better than one.”
“I can’t.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Cody thought about those words. Why was he doing this? Why was he letting their hope of finding an extraction point slip away, just like this? Why was he going to hit himself with the pliers to make it look like Steve had broken free? Why was he giving up all hope of getting off this island, out of this hell?
“Because it’s who I am,” Cody said. “It’s… It’s what I have to
do.”
Steve nodded. He backed off towards the door. “You’re a good man. I’ll send someone when I get home. Send someone to get you out of here.”
“Just go,” Cody said.
“I won’t forget this. Ever. I won’t forget what you did for me.”
He turned around to run out of the door.
The door flew open.
Steve fell back as it cracked against his face, went flying to the ground.
Gav stood at the door.
He was holding a long, rusty crowbar.
He looked at Steve as he lay there holding his bust nose on the floor.
Then, he looked over at Cody, confusion in his eyes.
“What the fuck’s going on in here?”
Gav saw the ties, then. Saw the broken ties. Then the pliers, still resting in Cody’s hands.
The confusion in his eyes turned to frustration.
The frustration turned to anger.
He walked towards Cody, tightening his grip on the crowbar.
“I asked you a fucking question.”
Chapter Seven
Riley watched the hybrids emerge from behind the trees and wanted nothing more than to be back inside his cabin, back inside his safe place.
Sunlight peeked between the trees, illuminating the hybrids as they approached. Every time Riley thought he’d seen the last of them emerging, more of them appeared in the corner of his eyes like they were just manifesting in thin air. They were awful looking things. The ugliest fuckers he’d ever come across. Some of them had fleshy stubs where their heads should be, blank canvases missing all the recognisable features of a normal face. Others had loads of weird little mouths spread across their bodies. They were the latest horror of this world; another form of the infection.
And they terrified Riley. They terrified him because every time he thought he’d seen the most horrible thing this world could throw at him, it just went and threw something else his way.
He heard their feet crunching heavily against the fallen leaves. He could smell them in the air; that unmistakable sweet tang they carried with them which was different to the deathly stench of the creatures, in a subtle way. He felt the goosebumps spreading up his arms as he saw more emerge—there were at least fifty of them now. They were outnumbered. Completely outnumbered.
And they were going to have to do something if they wanted to survive. Fast.
“What do we do?” Jordanna asked.
Riley felt afraid when he heard Jordanna ask that question. She was usually so confident. Usually so assertive and sure of herself. Just to hear her asking him what to do, passing the mantle of leadership—a leadership that was responsible not just for the pair of them anymore, but for Chloë and baby Kesha too—was terrifying.
“We go back inside,” Riley whispered. “Before they see us.”
“But—”
“It’s all we can do,” Riley said.
Jordanna nodded reluctantly. Then together, they backed slowly towards the cabin, back towards their home.
Riley creaked the door shut. He didn’t want to even look at the hybrids; didn’t want to risk them looking back and seeing him. It was a fallacy, really. That idea that if you didn’t look at your enemy, you were somehow more invisible to them. Maybe in the old world that was the case. But not in the new world. Not anymore.
There was only death for the person who didn’t look their enemy in the eye.
He pressed the cabin door shut. He could still hear the screams of the hybrids outside, as he stood there, static, with Jordanna, Chloë, and Kesha by his side. He gripped onto his axe and a pistol he’d picked up from one of the attackers in his other hand. He wasn’t sure how much ammo there was. Really, he hoped he could get away without using it.
But he didn’t hold out much hope right now.
“We have to hold them off,” Riley said, walking over to the windows, gently closing the blinds and filling the cabin with darkness.
“Hold them off?” Jordanna said. “Are you fucking mad?”
“We can lay low. If we’re quiet, if we keep a low profile, they won’t come in here looking for us.”
“And you know that for certain, do you?”
“We’ve survived this kind of situation before—”
“But not with Chloë to protect. Not with Kesha to protect. We’ve got more to lose now, Riley. We can’t just sit around and wait.”
Riley felt tension growing in his chest. Part of him wanted to stay here, defend this cabin, the place they’d called home for the last few months. Another part of him knew Jordanna was right. They had to leave. They had to get away from here. And they had to do it fast.
“We go out the back window,” Riley said. “The cabin should block their view of us. We can wait in the woods then loop around them. Hope they pass by us.”
Jordanna didn’t look entirely convinced. But she nodded anyway. Nodded like it was the only option they had.
“But we need to be quick,” Riley said. “We need to—”
A bang against the door.
Riley stepped back. So too did Jordanna and Chloë, Kesha quiet in her arms.
The door moved on its hinges again. Shadows beneath the door. Footsteps creaking up the wooden steps just feet away.
The infected were here.
They were at the door.
Riley had to get out of here. Fast.
“Now!” Riley said.
Jordanna turned around, Chloë by her side. They ran through into the back room, Riley following closely.
He went to close the door when he saw the front door split open.
He didn’t see the rest. But he could hear the hybrids walking around his home. He could smell them in the air. He looked at Jordanna and Chloë, who stood right by the back window, slowly trying to open it, keeping as quiet as they could.
Riley gripped the axe in his hand as the footsteps of the hybrids bumped around the cabin floor, as more of their shrieking bodies stepped inside, and he held his breath.
He gritted his teeth as Chloë reached up. Unhooked the window from the latch with her shaky hand. Kesha rested in her arm in a way that proved Chloë had mastered the art of multitasking with that one arm. Plus, Kesha was so good. So quiet. That was a bonus.
Just had to hope she stayed that way.
Chloë handed Kesha to Jordanna. She started to climb out. As she went to drop out, Riley imagined her making a racket as she fell. Falling, hurting herself. All of the hybrids running around from the front of the cabin to the back and swarming Chloë, tearing her other arm away.
But Chloë barely made a sound as she landed.
Jordanna went to climb out next. She handed Kesha back to Chloë, balancing on the cabinet by the side of the window, where all of their dirty plates of food rested. She stepped out, and Riley felt the entire foundations of the cabin creak as she moved. He held his breath. Listened to more of the footsteps of the hybrids inside the front room. They could do this. They were going to be okay. They could survive this.
When Jordanna was outside, he realised it was his turn. He walked over to the worktop. Climbed onto it, his legs shaky. He put a leg through the window, holding his breath at all times, being careful not to make a sound.
He imagined pots falling down as he nudged them with his toes. He imagined slipping. Alerting the attention of every infected to his position.
But he got outside.
He clung on to the edge of the window. He was outside. He was ready to run. He was…
He looked back in through the kitchen window.
A hybrid stood there, staring at him.
“Run!”
He dropped down from the window as the hybrid threw itself at it, which swung shut on its head. He heard more of them shrieking, more of them join their friend in that room, all of them smashing at the window.
Riley ran with Jordanna, Chloë, and Kesha by his side. Ran into the woods, away from the safety of his home. Behind him, he heard the shrieks getting louder.
He heard the glass of the cabin window smash away completely. He knew right then that no matter what, his home wasn’t safe. That he was well and truly doing this—getting away from the cabin, moving on to something else.
“Where to?” Jordanna shouted.
“Anywhere,” Riley said.
He didn’t want to look over his shoulder. Didn’t want to look back. But he found himself turning. Found himself looking back at the cabin he’d called home, barely visible now behind the trees.
And behind the oncoming infected.
He felt a lump in his throat. Felt a stage of his life dying. A stage where he’d done things he hadn’t liked, sure. A stage where he’d been someone he didn’t enjoy being at times, absolutely.
But a stage where he’d felt safe. In control.
He turned around and saw a group of eight people standing in front of him, all of them holding guns.
They lifted their guns. Pointed them at Riley, Jordanna, Chloë.
“Please,” Jordanna said. “Don’t—don’t shoot. We need help. We need to get away from those things. Please.”
The man at the front of the group—bulky, with long ginger locks and dressed in a grey overcoat and black trousers—lowered his gun and smiled. “We don’t wanna shoot you. Why the hell would we wanna shoot you?”
Riley felt confusion for a few seconds. He wanted to ask this man what he meant. What he wanted.
But then the group lifted their guns again.
Riley closed his eyes.
The group pulled the triggers and the sounds of gunfire echoed around the woods.
Chapter Eight
Cody stared at Gav, and Gav stared back at Cody.
Both of them were silent but no words were needed. Cody held the pliers in his hand. The pliers he’d cut Steve free with.
Gav stood there, confusion on his face, crowbar in his hand.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
Cody took a deep breath. Stood. He had to be straight with Gav. He had to be honest. “What’s happening is I cut Steve free.”
Gav’s eyes narrowed. “And why in the name of fuck would you do that?”
