by David Moody
Ronan’s silenced by a vicious right hook from Marion, which knocks him out cold. “Understand that, love,” she says as he collapses at her feet. She picks up the shotgun and hands it to Niall.
“Me and my Marion are calling the shots here.” Niall looks at each of the group in turn. “Right. Who’s hungry?”
* * *
Food.
They’ve barely eaten for days—hardly even thought about it—but now there’s food on the table, it’s all any of them can think about. Marion doles out goodies fetched from the boat, and they all dive in hungrily. It’s like feeding time at the zoo.
27
Niall, with Ronan’s shotgun slung over his shoulder, has had Natalie take him on a tour of the island. They’ve been gone almost an hour. While they’ve been away, Rajesh, Paul, Matt, and Ronan have been put to work finishing cleaning the interior of the main building and fetching the food and other supplies from the boat. Marion has them getting the place just as she wants it. “We have to do something about this, Matthew,” Ronan says in a snatched moment between tasks. “We can’t let them come here and take over like this.”
“Why not?”
Ronan just looks at him, incredulous. “You’re not serious?”
“I am. We’ve food and drink and a Hater-free island. I could think of worse places to be right now.”
“And that’s it? You’re just going to roll over and let them take control?”
Matt sighs. “Ronan, I’m beat. I’ve got nothing left. I just want to rest awhile before I decide what to do next. There are two boats on the island, so we’re not trapped like we thought. We have far more options now than we had this time yesterday. We just need to get our breath back and build up our strength. Bide our time.”
Ronan’s less than impressed. He marches off to the bathroom.
Rajesh has kept himself to himself since he got back here. Paul’s mopping out the dorm where Ruth was killed, and he watches Rajesh as he works. He looks exhausted—both physically and mentally. Paul can only begin to imagine how much effort it took to kayak back to the mainland. A couple of times he’s tried to engage him in conversation, but Rajesh has been far from forthcoming. For now he seems content to keep himself occupied with whatever jobs Niall and Marion find for him to do.
Paul catches hold of Ronan’s arm as he walks back from the bathroom. “There’s something going on here. Have you seen the way Rajesh is sucking up to the pair of them.”
“It’s not lost on me,” Ronan quietly replies. “I know Natalie thinks highly of him, but right now I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could spit. I think he’ll sell us out soon as look at us.”
“And have the place for him and his new mates, I reckon.”
“I think you’re probably right.”
Marion appears, looking for him. “Everything all right, Ronan?”
“Everything’s fine,” he answers quickly—a little too quickly, perhaps—and he returns to cleaning tables and shifting chairs in the mess hall.
Niall and Natalie are back. Rajesh stops what he’s doing and walks over to speak to Niall. “I’ve been thinking. We should burn the bodies.”
“Why?”
“If we’re serious about staying here, we’re going to have to get rid of them. The sooner we do it the better. There’s a real risk of disease if we don’t. We should either burn them or bury them, and burning’s the obvious solution. Quicker. Less effort.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll help,” Natalie says.
“The three of us’ll do it,” Niall tells them.
Natalie fetches a half-empty jerrican of fuel from next to the generator shed and carries it over to the pile of corpses they’ve left midway between the main building and the stores. Rajesh and Niall rearrange the dead into a vertical stack with spaces in between like human-shaped Jenga pieces. “It’ll help the oxygen to flow,” Rajesh explains. “We should start with these few, then bring the others across once the flames have got hold.”
Niall steps back out of the way as Natalie douses the bodies with fuel. Rod, Jayde, Nils …
“These folks mean something to you two?” Niall asks.
“Most of them.”
“Hurts, don’t it?”
Natalie doesn’t answer at first. Niall’s glib words feel trivial, almost dismissive. “Hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
“You’re not the only ones who’ve had it tough, love. Marion’s sister was the first we saw lose it. Nearly wiped out the whole damn family. We were lucky to get out alive.”
“You feel lucky, do you?”
“Now I’m here, yes, I do, as it happens. I guarantee that whatever you’ve seen while you’ve been hiding away out here is nothing compared to what’s gone on back home.”
“You don’t know what we’ve seen. What we’ve done.”
“Aye, true enough. We’ll compare notes later.”
Niall takes a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights up. He lowers the glowing tip of his smoke close enough to a puddle of fuel for the fumes to catch, and the whole damn thing goes up with a roar. A wave of heat billows outward, and for a split second, all the oxygen seems to be sucked from the atmosphere. Natalie steps back and watches through the heat haze as her friends and ex-colleagues begin to burn. She feels unexpectedly angry that Niall started the fire and took away her control. She wanted to do it. It felt like the closest she was going to get to paying her respects. She attempts to share her frustrations with Rajesh, but he’s not interested. He’s already on his way back inside.
* * *
Rajesh’s demeanor has suddenly changed. Matt picks up on it, but Paul and Ronan are too busy sucking up to Marion to notice. Rajesh approaches Matt unexpectedly. It’s the first time they’ve spoken properly since Rajesh returned. He seems agitated. Preoccupied. Nervous.
“What’s the story with these two, Raj?” Matt whispers
“Not important.”
“But can we trust them? Are they going to—”
“We don’t have time for this. We’re not hanging around.”
“What?”
“I told you I’d get you off the island.”
“I don’t understand.…”
“The Haters know we’re here. Or somewhere near here, anyway.” Rajesh stops and checks to make sure Marion and Niall are still distracted. “These two are bad news, really fucking bad news. They’re all sweetness and light until they’ve got what they want from you, then you’re dead to them. They used me to get them here.”
“Mate, you really need to slow down. You’ve been through hell and back to get here and I think you should—”
“Shut up and listen.” Rajesh’s tone and the look in his eye immediately silence Matt. “We were followed. They won’t tell you because they’re trying to keep you onside for now, but we only just got away. There was a boat full of Haters after us. They know we’re out here. We only got away because some other poor fuckers turned up and distracted them, took the heat off us temporarily.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re not going to have any trouble finding us.”
“You said even people who know where Skek is have trouble finding it. We’ll be okay.”
“No, no … you don’t get it. I want them to find us. That was why I wanted to burn the bodies. It’s a beacon. I came back with a decent boat like I promised. It has enough fuel to head north all the way up the coast right into the Scottish Highlands. Fewer people there, less chance of trouble. I’ve thought this through and planned it carefully. We’re going to dump these two and leave. Don’t treat me like a fucking idiot, Matt, just do exactly what I tell you if you want to get off Skek alive.”
28
Less than an hour later the Haters arrive. Eight of them in a lifeboat, slicing through the waves with power and ease and ominous intent. The plume of gray-brown smoke continues to rise straight upward into the clear sky from the body bonfire, pointing right to the heart of Skek like
the YOU ARE HERE marker on a tourist map. Marion’s on her way back to the boat with Matt to collect more supplies. She stops when she sees the other boat racing toward the shore.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
She starts to run back to base. Matt ducks behind the army turret and watches for a few seconds longer.
Long enough to see the Haters ride the surf, then jump over the side of the boat and drag it up onto the shore.
Long enough to see them crawling all over the boat Rajesh and the others arrived here in, looking for the escapees.
Long enough to see them look up at where Matt’s standing and see the path to the base.
He turns and sprints for all he’s worth, overtaking Marion in seconds, leaving her for dust. By the time he’s back inside the main building, the fastest of the Haters are on her. One grabs her legs and drags her down. Two more savagely beat her. She tries to fight back but her resistance lasts just seconds. It’s a brutal, bloody, and completely one-sided massacre.
Niall’s seen it all. “What the fuck? How did they…? How did they know?” He’s panicking. Doesn’t know what to do.
Ronan, on the other hand, has a newfound inner strength. The spineless prick has developed a backbone, just at the wrong moment. He reclaims his shotgun from where Niall stashed it, loads it, then heads for the door.
“Don’t be frigging stupid,” Paul shouts after him, but Ronan’s never listened to anything Paul’s told him, and he’s not about to start now. He marches out there, bold as anything, ready to stand his ground.
For almost a minute it works.
The nearest Hater—a slender woman in her thirties, similar in strength and stature to Natalie, long hair whipping behind her as she runs—throws herself at him, and he fires and hits her square in the chest. The force of the shot plucks her from the air and she drops like a stone. She’s dead before she hits the ground.
A lucky misfire hits the second Hater at waist height, clipping the stocky man on the right side of his pelvis and sending him spinning away. He’s down, but not out. Seemingly oblivious of the searing pain that must be coursing through every nerve, fiber, and sinew of his body, he drags himself back up and marches on, slowed but not stopped.
Ronan tries to reload. Hands shaking now. The pack of Haters getting ever nearer.
The shells are in and his weapon is ready, but Ronan’s luck has run out. The next Hater—the biggest, meanest fucker of all, clearly the leader of the pack—is already on top of him. He grabs the barrel of the shotgun, wrenches it from Ronan’s grip, then throws it well out of reach. Ronan tries to scramble away, but the Hater hauls him back by the scruff of his neck and pulls him onto an unspeakably savage-looking machete the Hater’s holding with such force that the blade enters between Ronan’s shoulder blades like a hot knife through butter, then erupts out of the front of his gut, showering the ground with crimson.
Ronan sinks to his knees, momentarily tries to push the blade back out and stem the blood loss and hold in his innards, then falls forward and smacks facedown into the grass.
Seven Haters left, five Unchanged.
Unequal numbers. Grossly unfair odds.
“Head north,” Rajesh tells Niall. “There are caves at the far end of the island. Places we can hide.”
Niall doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes his way past them and out the door, then sprints away, using the buildings as cover.
“Caves?” Paul says, confused.
Rajesh grabs his jacket and pulls him close. “There are no fucking caves, you idiot. He’s a diversion. Keep out of sight, let him draw them away, then get yourself down to the boat and wait for me. Get out of sight and don’t do anything stupid.”
No argument.
Matt checks what’s happening outside. Natalie’s looking out the same window. Two of the Haters have split off from the rest of the pack and are chasing after Niall. He won’t last long. Sure, he might put up a decent fight when they reach him, but it’ll only hold them up for seconds. Natalie knows they’ll need far longer to get away from these savage, ruthless bastards. Five more are still heading straight for base.
“Go,” Natalie tells them. “Get under cover. Right now!”
She moves toward the door. Rajesh tries to stop her. “Don’t be stupid, Nat. I’m giving us a chance here, you’ll get yourself killed.”
She shrugs him off. “I know what I’m doing. No one knows this island better than you and me now. I’ll loop around and keep them tied up a while longer. Wait for me on the beach. See you down there.”
Gone.
Matt presses himself flat against the wall, just able to see outside, and watches her running north after Niall with adrenaline-fueled athleticism. Another pair of bloodthirsty animallike Haters peel away and follow her.
Three left. Two hunting, one wounded.
“Get to the beach,” Rajesh orders. “Now!”
“But—”
“Now!”
Rajesh grabs a bow and arrow and a hand ax, then bursts out into the sunlight and heads for the still-burning, human-fueled bonfire. Outwardly calm, inwardly terrified, he raises the bow, loads an arrow, then fires at the nearest of the three remaining Haters. It hits the man in the belly. He stumbles, clutching his wound, but keeps moving for as long as he can. He comes at Rajesh, who sidesteps the killer and pushes him face-first into the flames. His screams are undeniably satisfying.
Rajesh reloads and fires wildly at the next one, but this time his shot’s poor and the arrow whistles over the shoulder of a stocky twentysomething with a ragged beard and bloodstained clothing. He doesn’t have time to reload before the man’s all over him.
The animalistic savagery of the Hater is spellbinding. He’s completely consumed with destroying Rajesh. Poor bastard is dead in seconds, but the Hater just doesn’t stop. He has his back to Paul and Matt, and with him distracted, they escape the main building and run to the stores. Paul’s quick moving, but Matt’s slower. He’s stunned by what he sees. The Hater’s using the ax on Rajesh now, swinging it down again and again and again on his corpse like he never wants to stop. Fountains of blood fly up from the body. Flesh shredded. Matt makes it as far as the stores building before the killer looks up.
Paul’s on his hands and knees, crawling through the grass to where Ronan’s shotgun landed. He grabs it, then scrambles over to his dead boss’s body and fishes in his pockets for as many shells as he can find. Then, still staying low, he gets ready to head for the beach.
Too late.
The Hater Ronan shot and wounded is here now.
This one is far older than the one who killed Rajesh and is badly hurt but no less terrifying. He whistles to his mate and they converge on the buildings. Paul ducks down and lies flat.
Matt’s pressed up against the side wall of the stores building now, watching the Haters’ every move but not knowing what to do or where to go. The taller of the pair has a clear line of vision all the way along the path to the beach and enough power and speed to stop anyone from getting away. His wounded cohunter is sniffing around the main building, leaning against the outside wall to keep himself upright and take the pressure off his injury. Even with a hole in his side he still looks capable of killing with ease.
Between the two of them, they’ve got Matt and Paul penned in and trapped.
* * *
Natalie’s nerves are threatening to get the better of her. This beautiful, rugged island she regularly calls home now feels alien and inhospitable. It’s like she doesn’t belong here anymore. Is that because the Haters have taken control? The meek shall inherit the earth, wasn’t that what they used to say? Well, today the opposite has proved to be true. That old cliché turned out to be bullshit.
She glances back. Niall didn’t last long. The Haters who killed him split up and now three of them are coming after her. She’s like a fox being hunted by a pack of dogs for sport. And that’s exactly what it feels like, she thinks. Sport. She can tell from the Haters’ relentless ferocity that the c
hase and the kill is what those evil fuckers crave. It’s what keeps them alive.
Can’t keep running forever. Going to run out of land.
She has to change direction.
Can’t go back. Have to go around.
She breaks right, heading for the spot where Vanessa met her untimely death last Monday—the cliffs overlooking the wreck of the Heavenly Vision. The drop appears out of nowhere—it would be so easy to keep running and go over—but she knows this place too well and sees the safety line and anticipates the fall. She changes direction again and starts running down the precariously narrow path that twists and winds down to the rocks and waves below. Tide’s in. More water than land down there right now. But she knows this is her only option. She either keeps moving and gets to the boat with Paul and Matt and Rajesh, or she dies.
The path ahead is uneven. Greasy. Potholes and pockmarks. If she slows down, they’ll get her and she’s fucked. If she puts one foot in the wrong place and falls, then the means will be different but the result will be the same: game over. She knows she has no choice but to keep running downhill at full pelt.
* * *
Matt can’t see Paul, but he can see both of the Haters. The older of the two is just a couple of meters away, standing over the body of one of his dead brethren. Matt quickly slips into the stores building and climbs the racking, realizing too late that he’s completely weaponless, not that it makes a whole lot of difference. From what he’s seen, it’s the ferocity and tenacity of these creatures that gives them such clear superiority. Right now he thinks if he had an AK-47 and free aim, he’d still come off second best.
He’s wedged himself into the narrow gap between the top of the racking and the slope of the pitched roof. He holds his breath and lies completely still on his belly, thinking that even his heartbeat might give him away. The metal shelving is barely holding his weight. It creaks and groans if he moves even a muscle. Right now the relative darkness in here is Matt’s only defense.
The Hater enters the building.
He’s right below Matt now, almost close enough to touch. He sniffs and snorts the air like an animal trying to catch the scent of its prey. “There’s one of them in here, I’m sure there is,” he shouts to his mate.
