by Ryan Casey
He’d left Grandma on her own, and he felt like shit for it.
“Just thought I’d pop in,” Riley said, leaning back on the kitchen cabinets as the kettle boiled.
Grandma narrowed her eyes. “Not sure I believe that for a second.”
“Why not?”
“Because you never bob in. Even when you were a little lad, you only ever bobbed in when you wanted your one pound spending money from me.”
Riley feigned a shocked face. “That’s totally not true.”
“It ‘totally’ is,” Grandma said, smacking Riley’s arm playfully.
Riley felt himself smiling. It was nice to smile. He hadn’t felt like smiling in a long, long time.
“So how’ve you been?” Riley asked.
Grandma stirred the tea. “Oh, me? I’m fine. I’ve been getting by. Having a new driveway put in next week.”
“A new driveway? You don’t even drive.”
“Who said you need to drive to have a nice driveway?”
“Well…”
“See. You can’t answer ’cause you know I’m right.”
Riley shrugged. He couldn’t help admiring Grandma’s ability to find new projects for herself. She’d been retired for a good twenty years now, and she always seemed to have something going on. Way more than Riley did, anyway.
“So never mind me,” Grandma said, handing the weak tea over to Riley. “How about you?”
Riley looked down at the tea. He ran through his mind what he wanted to say. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to say. He’d come here because he felt like he needed to speak to someone. Someone other than Ted, as much as he loved him like a brother. “It’s a year,” Riley said.
“A year since what?”
“Since… since Alison left me.”
Grandma tilted her head to one side. “So you came to mope to me?”
Riley was taken aback by Grandma’s lack of sympathy. He always used to get easy sympathy from his grandma. He used to get teased by his cousins for it—how he could just turn on the tears and Grandma would come running to his defence, running to his rescue, always. He was the favoured child. He knew that right from being very young, and he made sure he used that privilege all he could.
“I just… I was feeling pretty low.”
Grandma put a hand on Riley’s arm. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I just… I just see you and I worry about what all this inner drama’s doing to you.”
“I can’t exactly help it,” Riley said, between sips of awfully weak tea. “I… I found her profile. Alison. Only she’s called Alice on Facebook, probably to try and ward me off. She’s still in Australia. She’s… she’s got a son. And the son’s got a dad.”
Grandma moved her hand further up Riley’s arm then. For the first time, he felt like there was some kind of sympathy about her actions. “How did it make you feel?”
“Worthless,” he said, letting it all spill out. “Like I’d failed. Like… like I was looking at a snap of what my life could’ve been if I’d just stepped out of my comfort zone and taken a risk.”
“But you didn’t. Because you couldn’t afford it at the time.”
Riley rubbed the freshly shaved hair at the back of his head. “That’s… that’s not technically true.”
Grandma frowned. “What?”
“I won a lot of money on a horse.”
“A what?”
“On a horse. I put a bet. On a horse. It won.”
“How much?”
“Grandma, I can’t—”
“How much did you win?”
“Nine thousand pounds.”
“Nine thou—bloody hell, Riley. Nine thousand pounds. If I’d known about that nine thousand pounds, I could’ve let you pay for my new drive.”
Riley nodded. “It was a big win. I put a lot on. I was in… I was in a bad way. Work wasn’t going anywhere. Alison just told me she was pregnant. I needed a break. So when I won, I felt like… I felt like I’d done it. Like the whole world was opening up before me.”
“So what happened?”
“It was later that day I found out about Alison cheating on me.”
Grandma rubbed Riley’s arm once. “I’m so sorry.”
“I could’ve gone away with her. I could’ve told her about the win. I could’ve… I could’ve tried to make things work. But I was hurting. I was hurting and frankly, my mind wasn’t in the right place.”
“So you didn’t tell her. You just let her and your son go.”
“I planned to send a big chunk of the money over to her. Hell, at one point, I even thought about going over there. But then… but then the accident happened. And I haven’t let myself think about it since.”
There was total silence in Grandma’s kitchen. All Riley could hear were the birds chirping away outside, an annoying wasp buzzing and head butting the window.
“And this money. You still have it?”
“Some of it,” Riley said. “Well, I used a lot to pay rent when I was out of work for a while. I’ve helped Ted out. Cleared a few little debts. But I still have enough left. Enough for a one-way ticket to Melbourne.”
“And you’re asking me whether I think it’s a good idea?”
Riley put his tea down, half-emptied. “I guess so.”
Grandma tilted her head to one side. Smiled. “Riley, you made a decision to let Alison leave for Australia. She’s met someone else now. And you have to accept that.”
“But my son—”
“I’m not trying to stop you going seeing your son. And knowing how Alison was, I’m sure she wouldn’t either. But just think. Think about what happens when you get there. When you walk into Alison’s life. You upset her relationship. And not only that, but you’ll have to leave again, eventually. You’ll have to walk away from that boy. And you’ll have to be the one to tell him why the pair of you aren’t together when he grows older, over that Skype-wotsit, probably.”
“I was thinking of staying in Australia a little longer than a couple of weeks.”
“And I think that’s admirable. I really do. But I’ve seen you beat yourself up in the past, Riley. I’ve seen how obsessive you get about things. I remember you cried all the way back from the Lakes that time ’cause you’d left your spinning top there.”
“I don’t think I cried that much.”
“You did. I remember these things.
She put both her hands on Riley’s arms then. Looked into his eyes with all that wisdom radiating from her and smiled.
“I’m not telling you what to do. Not at all. I just think… I just think you need to start thinking about making yourself happy through new means rather than clinging onto the past. By making a clean break. Finding a… A new family.”
Riley nodded. He heard the truth of Grandma’s words, and they hurt him. But he saw she was right. “I’ll… I’ll send her some money. For my son. I’ll send her all of it.”
Riley walked out of Grandma’s kitchen and towards the door.
There was a figure standing there behind the glass.
“Expecting someone, Grandma?”
Grandma adjusted her glasses. “Oh, someone’s at the door. Probably one of those salesmen.”
“You should watch yourself opening the door to strangers,” Riley said. “You never know who you’re letting in.”
Grandma stopped at the door. Turned around and smiled. “Darling, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Chapter Eight
Kane pressed the knife to Riley’s neck and the sweetness of an impending kill built up inside him.
It was dark. Cold. Kane couldn’t stop himself shivering and shaking, partly because he’d walked so far to make it here to end the lives of those who’d ended Spud’s life. It was a stranger place than he’d expected. Silent. But he sensed that something had happened here. Something tragic.
But the man who’d killed Spud—Riley—was alive.
He was alive and he was all tied up, ready for Kane to take him down.
&nb
sp; “Well?” Kane said. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
Truth be told, Kane was a little disappointed at how Riley looked at him. He didn’t have any fear in his eyes. He didn’t even have any anger in his eyes for almost killing that Chloë girl back at the cabin.
He remembered how he couldn’t do it. How he’d seen too much potential in Chloë.
How he’d jumped out of the window.
“Your friends,” Kane said. “Jordanna, I believe. And Chloë. Are they around here, too?”
“I’m looking right fucking at ’em,” Riley said.
Kane narrowed his eyes. “What?”
It took him a few seconds to realise what Riley was looking at.
When Kane turned around, he saw the heads on the stakes. It was too dark now to make out their faces, but the light of the moon and the glow of stars told him there were two people on there. Two decapitated people.
“That’s them?” he asked.
“Someone came here. Someone killed them. Chopped Chloë’s arm away. Sliced Jordanna’s neck and left her to choke on her own blood. And then they cracked Chloë’s skull. Spilled her brains onto the ground. Pulled Jordanna up and stabbed her through her back before removing their heads and propping them up over there.”
Kane wasn’t sure how to feel about Riley’s words. He wasn’t sure how to feel other than… cold.
“So there. That’s what happened to my people. That’s what happened to my fucking family. So now go on. Do what you have to do while you’re here. Do what your little boy couldn’t.”
Kane looked back at Riley. He could hear some hate creeping into Riley’s voice, which finally excited him. “Yes. My boy, Spud. You’re the one who cracked his skull, aren’t you?”
“He tried to kill Kesha. I had to stop him somehow.”
“Ah yes. Kesha. Pretty name. Where would I find Kesha’s body?”
“You won’t,” Riley said. “She’s a long way away from here.”
Kane couldn’t disguise that he was disappointed. After all, he’d followed this group for quite some time. He’d fantasised about murdering them, one after the other, bathing in their fears and their blood.
When Riley killed Spud, it only made his hatred even stronger. His determination had honed even more. He wouldn’t have Spud by his side to enjoy a massacre. But he would have these people to himself, for a while. A way of relieving some of that stress.
But it was Chloë Kane felt bad about most. Because call him foolish, but he swore he’d seen something in her. A spark of potential, as she’d fought back against him. She was strong. She was ready-made for this world. He wouldn’t have to do much to train her.
And now she was gone.
“So now you’re completely alone out here,” Kane said, walking back and forth in front of Riley. “Completely alone. Nobody to save you. Nobody to help you.”
“I don’t expect your help,” Riley said, apathy in his voice. “And I won’t beg for your help. I just ask you to find it in… in whatever dark fucking heart of yours to make sure Kesha is safe.”
Kane frowned. “What?”
“Kesha. The baby. A man called Mattius took her away. She’s important. And I don’t trust him with her. If you could get her from his company, you’d be doing the world a favour.”
Kane wasn’t sure how to interpret this emotion running through him. He wasn’t sure he understood it. “Wait. You’re asking me for a favour? You’re asking me to get this girl back from whoever the heck Mattius is? You’re saying you trust me?”
Riley hesitated. He took a few moments before he spoke.
Then, “I don’t really have a choice anymore.”
Kane stepped back. A dizzying mixture of feelings crowded his mind.
Riley didn’t care if he lived or died. Not anymore.
He just wanted Kane to get to that girl called Kesha. To get her to safety.
“And why on earth would I care about a little baby? They’re a hindrance. They offer nothing to this world. And don’t for a moment tell me ‘because they’re the future’. Because you and I both know well that there is no future ahead of us.”
“I’m asking you to care because Kesha’s got something inside her. Something in her blood that can turn a… she can stop the infection progressing.”
Kane’s mouth dangled open. “You… you’re lying.”
“I have no reason to lie. Kill me if you have to. But I know by the fact that we’re both alive right now that what Kesha has to offer is just as interesting to you as it is to anyone else.”
“So I go find her and I kill her. I drink all her blood and become immune. Totally immune. What’s stopping me doing that, genius?”
Riley looked apathetically into Kane’s eyes. “Nothing. In fact, I imagine you probably will. But I just have to hope that a small part of you sees the potential good Kesha could bring the future. How, when she gets a little older, she’ll be more… consenting of helping others using her blood. It’s not fair for a baby to be deprived of a childhood. But it’s even worse if she’s deprived of her potential growing up. I have a feeling Mattius doesn’t care about her childhood or her potential. Just about protecting his own people right now and using her as a weapon for his own power. So I’m asking you to see her potential. Please.”
Kane stood up. He still wasn’t sure how to react to everything Riley had told him. Riley wanted to give him a mission. A purpose.
But the weirdest thing of all?
Riley had trusted him.
Someone had actually believed in him, sincerely, for the first time in his entire life.
“Say I do agree,” Kane said. “Where would I find this girl? And this… Mattius?”
Saying his name brought a sweet taste to Kane’s lips. Maybe he could help. And maybe he could kill at the same time.
He looked forward to killing Mattius. To winning his trust, then taking everything away from him, and bathing in the blood of his group.
“You’ll figure it out,” Riley said. “You found me.”
Kane tilted his head to one side. “I did indeed.”
He put his knife away and tightened his grip on the machete. Held it to Riley’s neck.
“Of course, I’ll need something of yours. Something to prove I’m not working with you. Something to prove my sincerity.”
“Anything.”
Kane smiled. His heart pounded. He felt the tingling, orgasmic sensations creeping through his body. “Your head.”
He held his breath.
Pulled back the machete.
Swung it at Riley’s neck.
Chapter Nine
Cody tightened his grip on the pistol as the ginger man and his group stood right in his way.
“Well?” the man said. He grinned, and so too did many of the people around him. “There’s a few ways we can go about this. You can drop your weapons and you can come over here, willingly. Or you can make it hard. Damned hard.”
Cody looked into the snapping jaws of the undead head that the ginger man held. The ginger man moved closer to him, slowly.
“It looks like they’re choosing the hard way, team,” the ginger man said. “Hell, I don’t blame you, in a way. I think I’d probably fight if I were in your shoes.”
“Why are you doing this?” Cody asked.
The man tilted his head. Behind him, flames that the group had sat around not long ago flickered. The air smelled of smoke, tasted of death’s bitter tang. “Why are we doing this? Why? You don’t understand yet? You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“If you were a bit less vague, I might be able to make a start at figuring it out.”
“The undead,” the ginger man said. The head in his arms snapped around some more. It looked like it’d belonged to a dark-haired man once upon a time. “When they turn, they don’t really turn.”
“You’re insane,” Michael said.
“And you don’t have a right to comment on any of this, Michael. Not when you led our people r
ight here, all ’cause you were too scared to get to your family all by yourself.”
Cody looked back at Michael. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Something didn’t add up about all this. If Michael had just been trying to get back to his family when he stumbled upon Cody’s group, then what was he doing out there, really? And why had he stumbled upon another group and led them here too?
“The best thing you can do right now is step aside,” the ginger man said. He closed up on Cody. “Your friend here’s been exposed as a fraud. It’s cute that you’d still fight for him. Really, it is. Naive, but cute. Now’s the time to give up on him. Now’s the time to step over here and find out the truth. The truth about what happens when you turn.”
All of this still didn’t add up to Cody. The talk of what happened when you turned into the undead. When you turn, you don’t really turn. Was it real? Or was it just bullshit to scare him?
The man came within a few metres of Cody.
Cody lifted his pistol.
“Woah, now,” the man said. Everyone around him lifted their guns, pointed them at Cody, at Michael. But they didn’t look comfortable with them. There were four of them, and they looked nervous. Shaky. “You’re surrounded. There’s literally no way this ends well for you. No damned way at all. So stop this stupidity. End it, and give up, right now.”
Cody looked around at Michael. Michael held onto the rifle looking uncertain himself.
Then he looked back at the ginger man. Kept his gun pointed.
“I’m gonna die anyway,” Cody said, pointing it right at the ginger man. “I might as well go down fighting.”
The ginger man tilted his head. Half-smiled. “Shame. We really coulda–”
A gunshot rattled through the camp.
It wasn’t Cody who fired. And it wasn’t Michael either.
The ginger man fell to his knees.
The head rolled from his hands and snapped at the heels of another of his people, ripping through their tendon.
Behind the ginger man, one of his people stood, a gun pointed at the ginger man he’d just shot.
He looked up at Cody. Then at Michael. “Go—”
