Dead Days: The Complete Season Two Collection

by Ryan Casey

  Anna gasped. Gasped out a breath.

  They were going to have to do something, that was for sure.

  And it involved getting the fuck out of Heathwaite’s.

  Fast.

  Chapter Six

  Riley was completely rigid as he sat on the concrete steps leading up to the leisure centre. It’d started when he turned around to his right, desperate to see Pedro walking his way with the sleeping chemical and the rucksack of whatever supplies they needed.

  He had turned around and seen Pedro. Walking right his way, and with a rucksack over his shoulder.

  Only problem was that Rodrigo was with him.

  And now, the three of them were sat together on the steps leading up to the leisure centre. Not saying much, just sitting. Anna could’ve set Claudia and Chloë free. The pair of them could be waiting for them to distract the caravan guards in some way, and yet it just wasn’t happening.

  “Getting cooler by the day, huh?” Rodrigo asked. He sipped from the bottle of cheap whisky that Pedro had brought with him. Famous Grouse, it was. Nasty as fuck.

  But not as nasty as the situation they were in.

  “God, I really am going full British again, talking about the weather like this.” Rodrigo grinned at Pedro and at Riley. Both of them forced the best grins they could, but they weren’t the most convincing.

  “Actually, I wanted to take this time to thank you. For not doing anything stupid when it comes to our…‌‌our guests. I realise the temptation must’ve been there and whatever. But as far as I see it‌—‌as far as my people see it‌—‌they’re Mike’s. So we need to send a message back to him to stop anything like this happening again‌—‌”

  “Don’t,” Riley said. He shook his head. Bit down on his tongue. He wanted to spur out all his frustration at this “send out a message” bullshit. And sure‌—‌Rodrigo might’ve said he wouldn’t kill them. But accidents happened. And there was no greater message than a revenge killing.

  “I understand you’re pissed,” Rodrigo said. “Like, I seriously get it. But I think you do too. I only want to keep this place safe. You know that as well as anyone. I’m not a tyrant or anything like that‌—‌”

  “What’s stopping you just lettin’ em go?” Pedro blurted out. Although he’d initially been seemingly a little on the fence about the next step, there was no doubting where his allegiances lay now.

  Rodrigo knocked back some more whisky and stared out towards the gates. “Here’s what happens if I let them go. They walk back to Mike unharmed. Tell him what a bunch of pussies we are. Mike has a damn good laugh about this whole ordeal, and he prepares his next move. He’s toying with us.”

  “Then how about we integrate them? Like I said, they’re good people.”

  Rodrigo half-smiled at Riley and shook his head. “You’re a good person, Riley. Too good a person at times. Reintegration is not going to work, not now people know that there’s a risk of double-crossing going on in this place. Their defences are up as it is. And I’d hate for you to have to bear the brunt of that.”

  Riley knew exactly what Rodrigo was suggesting. Him, Pedro, Anna‌—‌they too were at risk of being targeted or mistrusted unless they really proved their loyalty. Riley had seen it himself, standing on those steps and speaking to the mob. The way they’d looked at him with those distant, uncertain faces. He had to watch his step. That was exactly what Rodrigo was saying.

  “No, we…‌‌we deal them a bit of punishment. Go easy on them, but‌—‌”

  “How does that make you any different to Mike?” Riley said, raising his voice. His cheeks burned. He looked around, up the hill towards the caravans. Still no sign of Anna, or any sign that anything had gone right‌—‌or wrong, for that matter.

  “Mike killed a boy in here. He flipped. And he’d been feeding people‌—‌our people‌—‌to the zombies in the Dumping Ground for days. I don’t kill my own. That’s the difference between me and Mike.”

  “You used to let people in. Mike didn’t. That was the difference between you and Mike.”

  Rodrigo opened his mouth. Closed it again slightly. His eyes drifted over towards the caravans. Riley swung around. Looked at the trees. Looked at the faces in the windows, the dogs on leashes in the gardens. Then he looked back at Rodrigo.

  Rodrigo was still staring into the distance.

  “Rodrigo, I‌—‌”

  “You aren’t up to anything, are you?” Rodrigo said, softly, gently, but just sinister enough to sound threatening.

  Riley’s eyes inadvertently flicked to Pedro’s, which widened with Rodrigo’s words.

  “No,” he said, his throat crackly. Fuck. Sound less obvious. Be a better fucking liar.

  Rodrigo smiled. Shook his head. Sipped back some more whisky‌—‌the final gulp of the glass. He gasped as he finished it, then stared back up towards the caravans. “You know, I’ve always had a good feeling about the pair of you.”

  Riley nodded. Pedro nodded too. What else could he say? Thanks?

  “And I dunno. Maybe your instincts are right.” He hovered the glass slightly above the ground. Eyed up the whisky bottle in Pedro’s green rucksack.

  Pedro spotted this immediately. “Want a top up?” he asked. He reached for the bottle of Famous Grouse.

  Rodrigo snatched his hand before he could get there.

  “It’s okay,” Rodrigo said, smiling. He pushed Pedro’s hand back gently. “I can help myself.”

  Riley’s heart pounded. Rodrigo reached for the Famous Grouse bottle. If he looked any further in the rucksack, he’d find the chemical. He’d find the loose cans of food to get them by for the next few days and weeks. Fuck. He couldn’t find it. He couldn’t.

  Amazingly, he didn’t.

  He reached the bottle out of the rucksack, unscrewed the cap, and poured a little helping into his glass. “As I was saying. Maybe your gut instincts are right about these two. Maybe they are genuinely willing to turn away from Mike.”

  Riley’s heart started to slow down. His nails withdrew from his palms slightly as a lightness built up inside him. “Yes. Yes. Like I’ve been saying‌—‌”

  Rodrigo brought the whisky glass crashing down onto the concrete step. It shattered upon impact.

  The breaking of the glass was just enough of a distraction for Rodrigo to reach for the green rucksack and empty it out.

  “Well,” Rodrigo said as Riley stared out, cheeks flushing. He wanted to disappear into a hole as the tins and cans of food tumbled down the concrete steps and into the road.

  He wanted to sink even further down that hole as Rodrigo lifted a clear plastic bottle with a medicinal cross symbol on it.

  “Wondered where this had got to. Didn’t for a moment figure anyone might wanna use it maliciously, though.”

  Riley couldn’t speak. Evidently, neither could Pedro. They’d been ratted out. Their plan had crumbled. Rodrigo wasn’t going to forgive them for this. “Please, Rodrigo. Every‌—‌every bit of it we can explain. We never meant to hurt anyone. Please, just‌—‌”

  Rodrigo grabbed Riley by the scruff of his shirt. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot. His mouth shook as if he had a number of things to say but just couldn’t get the words out. He’d trusted him, and he’d let him down? Something along those lines. It had to be something along those lines.

  “Rodrigo‌—‌” Pedro started.

  “Shut up!” Rodrigo said. He pushed Riley back and lifted a gun out of his pocket. He pointed this one in Pedro’s chest. “Guards. Get the hell over here right now.”

  Donald and the other guards from around the gate looked at one another then started jogging towards the concrete steps of the leisure centre. Rodrigo’s eyes were still bulging as he held his gun at Pedro, staring at Riley, those eyes just as threatening as being at gunpoint.

  “Please, Rodrigo‌—‌” Riley started again. He wasn’t sure what else he could do other than beg. He just hoped to God Anna had got Claudia and Chloë free already. That sh
e’d seen what was happening and she’d figured out a way. “Let us‌—‌”

  “The only place we’re going right now is that caravan,” Rodrigo said. His jaw was shaking. Tears had built up in his eyes. Behind him, Donald and the other gate guards raised their guns at Riley and Pedro, confused expressions on their faces.

  “We’re gonna go to that caravan and you’re gonna make a fucking choice,” Rodrigo said. “Like‌—‌like a loyalty test. Something like that. Now let’s move.”

  As Riley started to walk, guns pressing into his back, he felt like he was on autopilot. His surroundings were blurry and out of focus. Faces appeared at the windows of the leisure centre; people emerged from their caravans to see what all the commotion was about.

  All of them had that look on their faces. That knowing.

  You are one of them, not one of us.

  And now Rodrigo was going to force him to prove otherwise.

  “Come on,” Anna said as she stared down at the bloody mess on the caravan carpet. “We‌—‌we’d better get cleaned up.”

  James’s body had stopped twitching a few seconds ago, but the blood was still flowing out of his bludgeoned head and his formerly erect member‌—‌which Anna preferred not to look at, especially after what he’d nearly done to her. All she knew was that they didn’t have much time. Somebody would come looking for James soon. She had to try and get Claudia and Chloë out of here, but nobody would get away with this covered in blood. Besides, judging from the noises outside, Riley and Pedro’s distraction still hadn’t worked. Where the fuck were they?

  Anna turned on the tap at the sink. She held her hands under the cold, murky water, watching as the blood that had sprayed up from James dripped down into the bottom of the sink.

  “Just‌—‌just put your hands in there,” Anna said to Chloë, who stood beside her. Her arms were covered in blood completely, right down from the elbows. There were splashes of blood on her face. If she were outside the fences, you couldn’t blame a person for mistaking her for a creature.

  She held her hands under the tap. Even more blood drifted down the plughole. She wasn’t a creature. She was a killer.

  “I’ll‌—‌I’ll go see to your mum,” Anna said. She patted Chloë on the back, but it wasn’t like reassuring a young girl. Because Chloë had done things that Anna hadn’t even come close to doing. Things that would be ingrained on her psyche forever. But wouldn’t that be the case with every child of these Dead Days?

  Anna crouched in front of Claudia. She pulled the grey tape from her mouth. As she did, Claudia coughed a bit, phlegmy saliva dribbling down her chin. “Let me get that for you,” Anna said, wiping the saliva away with the corner of her sleeve. “And let’s get you out of those cuffs.”

  “It’s‌—‌it’s worthless. You‌—‌you just make sure Chlo gets out of here. Make sure she‌—‌”

  “Don’t speak like that,” Anna said. She rested her hand on Claudia’s warm, tender cheek. “We’re leaving this caravan together or not at all. That’s how we do things, isn’t it?”

  Claudia smiled. Tears dripped down her cheeks.

  “James must have something on him,” Anna said, turning around to James’s body, solid as a stone. Just looking at him again made her feel a bit sick, as much as she tried to avoid eye contact with the bludgeoned head and pierced cock.

  And then it hit her. He did have something on him. Or in him, rather.

  Anna gulped. She stared at the needle, which was still wedged through his private parts. She cringed as she looked at it, imagining herself pulling it free, imagining the blobs of blood oozing out and dripping all over her hands.

  But what choice did she have?

  She closed her eyes. Held her breath. Reached out for the needle‌—‌she made damn sure she knew exactly where it was so she didn’t accidentally grab something else.

  When she got a hold of the cold metal, she tugged it to the right. She felt a force holding it back, and she knew exactly what it was, but she tried not to picture it. Just imagine you’re pulling a needle out of a cotton ball, or something. Just tug and…‌‌Fuck. The self-talk wasn’t working. It really, really wasn’t working.

  She opened her eyes. She could hear voices outside. They could come inside soon. Shit. She had to resign herself to what she was doing. Pull yourself together. Your life might depend on it.

  She counted down from three.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  And on one, she pulled the needle out of James’s sergeant with a swift movement to the right.

  The elation at freeing the needle from its unusual new home was enough for Anna to disregard the dark blood that dribbled onto her hand as she moved it away.

  “I’ve…‌‌I’ve done it,” Anna said. She turned around to Claudia, wiped the needle on her jeans, and made a move for her handcuffs. “Let’s get you out of here. Let’s get you the hell out of here and‌—‌”

  Anna’s speaking was cut short by a cold gust of air powering against her back.

  It was the gust of air she noticed before she registered that the door of the caravan had creaked open, too.

  “Holy fuck,” somebody said behind. She heard retching noises. Vomiting noises.

  But she heard footsteps, too. Steady, controlled footsteps.

  She turned around.

  Rodrigo was at the entrance of the caravan. He walked slowly towards James’s dead body, his eyes wide, his face pale.

  Behind Rodrigo, Riley and Pedro were there, similarly shocked expressions on their faces. Behind them, guards pointed guns into their backs.

  Rodrigo looked up at Anna.

  He didn’t have to say anything. Anna knew right at that moment that it was over. Everything was over.

  The first thing Riley noticed when Rodrigo opened the door wasn’t Claudia, or Chloë, or even Anna for that matter.

  No. It was the same thing as everybody else noticed.

  The blood.

  Then the body.

  One of the guards stumbled out of the caravan and dry heaved all over the concrete patio. Riley looked at the body of…‌‌James. Yes, it must’ve been James. Except it wasn’t anymore. It was just a reminder of what James was. A shadow, or a reflection, of a James long gone.

  Rodrigo stepped further into the caravan, similarly transfixed by the body. Riley, prompted by the gun in his back, followed.

  Anna stared back at them all, her face as white as a sheet. She was holding a needle that was covered in blood, as were her hands. Claudia’s duct tape had been removed. And Chloë…‌‌she wasn’t cuffed to the handle of the cabinet. Where was she?

  As Riley stepped further towards the caravan living room, he realised the extent of the violence towards James. His head had been beaten to a pulp. One of his eyes dangled out of his skull like one of Riley’s road-killed cats once did a few years back. But worst of all, his trousers were down to his knees. The end of his penis was mashed and bloodied, like it’d been stabbed.

  “You…‌‌what…‌” Rodrigo tried to speak, but he clearly couldn’t find the words. Riley’s stomach seemed to be trailing along the ground. This had gone from bad to worse to…‌‌well. This.

  And just to top it off, Riley heard footsteps and whispers surround the caravan.

  The whispers and footsteps of Heathwaite’s residents.

  They gasped. Gasped and shouted out in disgust. Some of them cried, some of them wailed. And all this time, Rodrigo, Anna and Claudia were completely still, completely silent.

  Then, Rodrigo snapped out of his trance. He raised his head and looked Anna right in the face. He nodded at her as if he, himself, was still getting his head around what lay in front of him. “Give me the needle, Anna,” he said, holding out his hand. “No need for this to go any worse than it is already.”

  There was a momentary pause. A shuffling of guns, pointing in Anna’s direction. Her eyes, like she’d been caught planting a bomb or something‌—‌she kind of
had, really‌—‌were wide and cornered. Riley had never seen her look so trapped in their entire time of knowing one another.

  Then she handed the needle over. Dropped it into Rodrigo’s hands.

  Rodrigo closed his grip around the needle and took in a shaky breath. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Riley wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or petrified by the level of composure Rodrigo was showing. All he knew was that Anna looked like she’d killed James, and let Chloë free. The plan was in process. A horrible, twisted kind of process that made him wish they’d never even stumbled upon the escape plan in the first place.

  “Where is the girl?” Rodrigo asked. His voice was composed. Calm.

  Anna looked over towards the bedrooms. The way she looked though…‌‌it didn’t seem inadvertent. It seemed forced, somewhat. Was she diverting them? Fuck. She’d better watch herself. Better not get herself into any more shit.

  “Donald, check out the bedrooms,” Rodrigo said, pointing to the right.

  Donald stared at James’s body, transfixed.

  “Donald!” Rodrigo shouted.

  “Yes‌—‌yes boss.” Donald jumped back to life then rushed through the living area of the caravan towards the bedrooms.

  Rodrigo kept his eyes on Anna. He looked from Anna to Claudia and then back at Anna again. “So now I get it. All along, I wanted to believe Riley, I really did. But the state James is in. That your fucking modus operandi, is it? Genital mutilation?”

  Claudia stared right back at Rodrigo. She didn’t look scared. She looked resigned. Accepting of the terrible, terrible situation that had only gone and got worse.

  Rodrigo walked up to her. Pushed Anna aside and crouched down opposite Claudia. “I really wanted to believe Riley. Even when I caught him red-handed back on those steps, I really wanted to believe him. Now I…‌‌now I’m not sure whether I can trust any of you.”

  Riley knew what Rodrigo was getting at. It all came crashing down on him all of a sudden. The state James had been left in was comparable to the state the bodies of his other men, abused and assaulted by Mike, had been found.