by David Moody
I’ve killed someone.…
The guilt is hard to handle. It stops him in his tracks and makes him question everything.
Am I a Hater?
He’s still not sure.
“So do we just rock up to the front door and knock?” Paul asks.
“Yep.” That’s exactly what Natalie does. She raps on the door with her knuckles, then tries the brass knocker above the post flap when there’s no immediate answer.
“There’s a postbox.” Paul sounds nervous and is talking crap again. “Why the hell is there a postbox? Did you get many deliveries round here?”
She ignores him and crouches down. She lifts the flap and shoves her fingers through to prop it open so she can see inside. “Anybody in?” she yells. Though there’s no obvious response, she thinks she catches a glimpse of fleeting movement, most likely someone trying his or her best not to be seen. Or was it a shadow? Just a trick of the light? It’s hard to be sure from her restricted viewing angle. She holds her breath—because her heavy breathing is making it harder than it should be to hear anything—and concentrates. There it is again. Someone is definitely in there, and whoever it is, is doing all he or she can to stay hidden. Natalie can sense someone watching her, and the building definitely doesn’t have the hollow air of an empty place. She shouts again to try to force the person’s hand. “Anyone there? Come on you fuckers, let us in.” She listens again, this time not necessarily waiting for a response, just for any kind of reaction.
And she hears it.
Shuffling noises. Someone giving almost silent instructions to someone else—trying too hard to stay quiet and making enough noise to be heard outside by default.
Matt’s up at the window now, but the curtains and blinds are pulled shut. “Anything?” he shouts across to Natalie.
“They’re definitely in there,” she shouts back, not worried about the volume of her voice. If anything, she wants them to hear her.
“Break the fucking door down then,” Paul suggests. Matt gives him a couple of seconds to see if he’s actually going to do anything other than bark out instructions, but he’s clearly not. Natalie beats the pair of them to it. She puts down her bow and arrow and starts barging at the door, trying to get it open. It looks old and flimsy but it’s surprisingly firm. When she’s had a few attempts and got nowhere, and Matt’s also had a turn and failed, Paul finally steps up. “Here,” he grunts, readying himself. “This is how you do it.”
He takes a couple of paces back along the path, then takes a run up with his shoulder dropped. Before he can hit the door, though, it opens inward. He tries to stop himself but it’s too late, and he trips over the low step and ends up on his hands and knees halfway down the bungalow’s narrow hallway, coming to rest in an unruly heap at Rajesh’s booted feet. Ronan’s peering out from behind the door, but no one pays him any attention because they’re all focused on the ax Rajesh is holding just above Paul’s head.
Rajesh is poised to strike. “Don’t move a fucking muscle.”
Natalie takes a step forward, half in and half out of the building now, and raises her hands in submission. Rajesh lifts the ax higher, leaving her in no doubt he’ll use it if he has to.
“Raj, mate, don’t … it’s me.”
“I can see that, but thinking you know someone doesn’t count for much anymore. You ask Stuart.”
“Where is he?”
Rajesh gestures back deeper into the cottage with a flick of his head. His eyes remain fixed on Natalie and the ax is unmoving. “He’s in the bedroom, bleeding out over the bed.”
“What happened?”
“His wife happened, that’s what. She’s one of them. She went fucking mental. Killed Frank when he tried to stop her, then turned on Stu and damn near killed him too. We managed to get her into one of the dorms. It was all we could do to shut her in and get the hell out of there. I mean, Frank had hurt her but…”
Natalie nods and Rajesh shuts up.
“We saw what she did.”
“You’ve been back to base? Fuck, you didn’t let her out, did you?”
“It’s okay. She’s dead.”
“What? How?”
“Matt did it.”
“Matt? Jesus. Didn’t think he had it in him.”
“Well, he has. He killed her.”
Rajesh can’t work out how to respond. “So is he one of them?”
“Seriously? If he was a threat, would I be standing here with him now? He’d have killed me too.”
Natalie takes another step forward and is fully inside the building now.
Matt tries to follow her lead, but Ronan shuts the door in his face. Matt stops it with his foot and pushes back, forcing it open. “Come on, Ronan. Don’t be stupid.”
Paul tries to get up, but Rajesh is having none of it. He plants his boot between Paul’s shoulder blades and exerts enough downward pressure to keep him still and make him yelp with pain. “I told you, don’t fucking move.”
Matt manages to open the door a little farther. “You can trust us,” he says, though even he doesn’t sound convinced himself. “Well, as much as we can trust you,” he adds, not knowing if that strengthens his argument or makes matters worse.
“Trust you?” Rajesh says. “You’re a killer.”
Matt answers quickly, thinking on his feet. “No, Raj, I’m a survivor, exactly the same as you. Exactly the same as Stuart, and he killed Nils, remember?”
Rajesh thinks for a couple of seconds longer. It seems to take forever for him to make his decision. “Get in here fast,” he finally says, lifting his boot off Paul’s back. “Don’t try anything stupid. One wrong move and I’ll be the one who starts killing next, right?”
“Got it,” Matt says. If I don’t get you first, he thinks but doesn’t dare say. I’ve got form.
Closing the front door behind them brings a blessed relief. It gives them a temporary illusion of safety and blocks out the constant wind outside. It’s also warmer in here and more comfortable than anywhere else left on Skek. But what catches Matt off guard for a few dangerous moments is the sheer normality of the place. It’s like a bubble, both a bizarre time capsule and an inextricable link with the distant mainland. The bungalow feels like a proper home from home: wallpaper, paintings, cushions, family photographs, ornaments, a TV and a pile of DVDs, a bookcase full of well-read paperbacks, and a sink full of washing up. The sense of normality, however, is fleeting. Matt only has to remember that he killed one of the owners of this place—after she’d attacked him and almost killed her own husband, apparently—for the surreal reality of their inexplicable situation to return with full force.
The little house is crowded, but not quite as crowded as they’d hoped. Rajesh waits at the living-room door, still standing guard after he’s ushered Paul, Natalie, and Matt inside. He’s a little calmer, but he steadfastly refuses to put down his ax. Stephen and Rachel are also here.
“Where’s everyone else?” Natalie asks.
“Stuart’s in the back,” Rajesh tells her. “Leave him alone, though, and for Christ’s sake don’t tell him about Ruth. Poor sod’s in a bad enough way already.”
“I can imagine.” Natalie’s fighting back tears herself. “They’d been together since they were teenagers. He was always telling me that, going on about how much he loved her, and you could tell he meant every word. You can’t even begin to imagine how much that’s gotta hurt. To be attacked like that by the person you love more than anything…”
“So who else is missing?” Matt wonders, struggling to keep track of who’s still alive. He works his way through the faces. “Just Rod and his daughter?”
“We lost them when we cleared out after Ruth kicked off.”
“There’s no boat at the jetty,” Paul tells Rajesh. “Looks like your boss did a runner on you after all.”
“Looks that way,” Rajesh is forced to admit.
“The girl from the beach. What happened to her?”
“She’s in the back with
Stuart,” Rachel replies. “She’s okay.”
Nervous glances are exchanged. “Okay?” says Paul. “Just okay?”
“She hasn’t come around yet. We managed to get her out of the way when Ruth kicked off. Rachel’s been looking after her. We’re still keeping her drugged up.”
Natalie’s furiously shaking her head. “No, no, no … you don’t get it, Raj. She’s one of them. We have to get her out of here.”
Natalie moves for the door to the back rooms, but he blocks her way with the ax. “What are you on about?”
“She’s one of them.” Natalie’s genuinely afraid. “Did you not hear me? She’s a Hater.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Ronan asks, laughing nervously. “She’s just a child. A child who’s barely alive at that.”
“You don’t understand,” Matt says. “Back on the boat. There was CCTV. We saw her. We saw her killing.…”
“You’re confused,” Ronan sighs. “Nils killed the boy who did all that, you know he did.”
Rachel crosses the room to stand alongside Rajesh and block the way through, a show of solidarity. “That poor kid’s been through hell. She’s no more a threat to you than I am.”
“And how do we know you’re not a threat?” Paul says. “Seriously, how do we know about any of us anymore?”
“He’s right,” Matt says. “Nils wasn’t a threat before, nor was Ruth. We just don’t know, and we can’t risk having her here.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Rajesh says. “Dump her outside? Lock her up?”
“Yes!”
“No way. She’s just a kid, and she’s still out cold. I reckon she’s a lot more vulnerable than any of us.”
“She’s staying here. Deal with it or get out,” Rachel warns.
“Let me see her,” Natalie demands.
“Lay a finger on her and I’ll…”
“You’ll do what, exactly? Attack me? Kill me? Jesus, it’s all getting a bit predictable, don’t you think?”
“Come on,” Matt says. “Let’s calm things down a little.”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Stephen says from the far corner of the room where he’s been watching the argument brewing. “They won’t listen to you. I should know. There’s been killing after killing after killing on this island since Vanessa died.”
“Jesus, don’t bring that up again,” Rachel moans.
“No, stop. We need to shut up and listen to them,” Stephen shouts at her. He turns to Paul and pulls him closer. “What did you see on the CCTV?”
“There was a basic setup on the ferry,” Paul explains. “We found Nat there after we left you lot yesterday.”
“I figured it would be the last place a killer would go. It had already been cleared out,” Natalie explains. “Fact is, I was trying to get away from everyone else. Fat lot of good it did me.”
“There were a few static low-res CCTV cameras on the boat, nothing fancy,” Paul continues. “We used them to try to work out what happened. We thought we’d look for clues … try and see if there was any kind of trigger we could identify, any obvious behaviors. We just wanted to try to work out who was what.”
“And?” Ronan impatiently demands.
“And there’s nothing. As far as we could see, one minute everything was okay, the next it all went batshit crazy.” They’re all staring at Paul. He feels uncomfortable, as if he’s being interrogated. “It wasn’t the boy who did all the killing on the boat, it was the girl you’ve got lying in the back room. It was Louise.”
“Bullshit,” Rachel says.
“I wish it was. We saw her do it. The three of us watched her doing all that fucking terrible stuff on TV. The kid Nils killed, he was just hiding, doing everything he could to keep out of sight until she’d gone.”
“He didn’t come looking for us to kill us,” Matt says. “He came to us for help.”
There’s a moment of quiet as the others absorb this news.
“See,” Stephen says. “Easy to jump to conclusions, isn’t it?”
“I need to see her,” Natalie says again, and she pushes past Rajesh, who this time moves to the side. Rachel offers a little more resistance, but she too moves out of the way on Rajesh’s instruction.
The solitary bedroom at the back of the cottage is as twee as everywhere else. It’s overcomplicated and overfussy. Drapes and throws. Scatter cushions. A gore-stained hand-crocheted blanket. Pools of blood. Stuart’s lying in the middle of the bed he used to share with Ruth. A deep puncture wound is in his side. It’s been strapped up, but the bandages and makeshift dressings are hard to see because they’re also soaked with crimson. His face is the same insipid color as the pale curtains hanging listlessly at the windows, off-white. He manages to open his eyes when Natalie enters the room, but clearly every single movement, no matter how small, severely saps his already substantially depleted reserves. He just about manages to lift his arm from the bed to try to acknowledge her. She puts her hand on his shoulder and he relaxes. “Hi…,” he croaks.
“Hi yourself. We’re all here now, Stu. Get some rest while we work out how to get us home.”
“Yeah, right…”
His eyelids flutter and close. She doesn’t know how much he’s heard them talking, or if he’s heard anything at all. The dire condition of her good friend is another momentary distraction, but she quickly remembers why she’s here.
The room’s filling up: Matt, Paul, Rajesh, Rachel, and Ronan are all crammed in here with her. Natalie has to push past the others to get over to the far side of the bed.
Louise is lying on a thin makeshift mattress made up of cushions and blankets. She doesn’t move, but Natalie can see her chest rising and falling even from a distance. Deep, unsteady breaths. Natalie tries to get closer, but Rachel stops her. “She’s been like this the whole time. We haven’t heard a peep from her. She’s no threat.”
“You haven’t seen what we’ve seen,” Natalie tells her.
“She’s no threat,” Rachel says again, but Paul has other ideas.
“I wish I could show you the video. You wouldn’t be so sure if you’d seen her in action.”
“If what you’re saying is true and she kicks off, I’ll sort her out myself.”
“If she kicks off, you won’t have a chance,” Natalie tells her.
“Like I said, I’ll sort her out.”
Natalie knows there’s no point arguing. “Tie her up, then.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Deadly. You got a rope in here? Just tie one end around her ankle and the other around the foot of the bed. Just enough to give us a head start when she comes around.”
“Are you mental?” Rachel smirks.
“I’m not so sure anymore.” Natalie turns to face Rajesh. “Come on, Raj. Please.”
Rajesh thinks hard for a couple of seconds. He’s treading a fine line: he thinks this can’t be happening, but he trusts Natalie more than just about anyone else left alive on this island. “There’s an extension cable in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. We’ll use that.”
Rachel’s less than impressed, but Natalie couldn’t give a damn. “Thanks, Raj.” She gently touches his arm as he squeezes past. “What’s the worst that can happen? So we’ll have to explain to her why we’ve tied her up? So what? I reckon that’ll be the least of her concerns when she wakes up.”
“She’s not an animal,” Rachel says.
Natalie’s not so sure.
Rajesh fetches the flex, and the others return to the living room, leaving Rachel to watch Louise. Rachel sits on the edge of Stuart’s bed, and he groans with pain when the mattress moves. Every little movement causes him waves of untold agony.
A definite air of mistrust and animosity remains inside the bungalow. Natalie puts down her weapons, doing it in such an overly dramatic way that it’s clear she’s trying to do what she can to get the others onside. “It’s time to stop pissing about. We’ve all seen and done some really fucking awful things, but we’re
all in the same position here. We need to work together and pool our resources. Rebuild bridges, not burn them.”
“I thought he was the one with all the clichés,” Stephen grunts, gesturing at Ronan.
Ronan doesn’t take the bait.
“I’ll try and get back to the mainland in one of the kayaks tomorrow,” Rajesh says on his way from the kitchen back to the bedroom. He lays his ax down on the mantelpiece above the cottage’s electric fire, matching Natalie’s actions. “I’ll get help.”
“I’ll go with you,” Paul says.
“Have you kayaked on open water before? Thanks for the offer, Paul, but I’ll be better off on my own.”
“And how do we know you won’t get back to the mainland and just stay there? Fuck the rest of us?”
“You don’t, you’ll just have to trust me.” Rajesh is clearly offended. “Stop judging everyone else by your own low standards, pal.”
“At least I have standards.…”
“For Christ’s sake, Paul, give it a rest, will you?” Natalie sighs. “Way I see it, right now we’re all screwed. Raj is our only hope, and we have to trust him to do the right thing. If you go and don’t come back, Raj, then fair play to you and thanks for trying. If you go and you do come and get us, well then, that’ll just go to prove you’re as decent a bloke as I’ve always believed you are.”
Rajesh looks down at his feet, embarrassed and unexpectedly emotional.
Matt looks around the room. The conversation has drifted into somewhat safer waters. The immediate fear feels like it’s dissipated somewhat. “It’s like Nat says, we’re all in the same boat, so to speak. There’s no point fighting with each other. No one knows any more or less than anyone else. None of us know the full picture, and I don’t reckon we ever will.”
“He’s right,” Rajesh agrees. “This is a truly fucked-up situation. You only have to look at poor old Stuart. His wife did that to him, for crying out loud.”
