The Black Tide I: Remnants (Tides of Blood)

by Baileigh Higgins

  I stepped back until I hit the counter, frightened by the rage in Andy's face. He followed, towering above me.

  “We will never go back to normal. Now that the control is in their hands we are nothing more than servants, working for their ease and pleasure.”

  “Someone will do something,” I protested.

  “Who? Who will stop them? The rest of the world has its own problems to deal with. Face it, Ava. The life you knew is gone. You'll have to fight for what you want, fight for everything from now on.”

  He placed his hands on either side of me, trapping me in his arms and leaned in. “They're already clearing the way for more of us to be transported to the farms and factories, to live in hovels and shacks while we work, treated like dirt.”

  He pushed away from me suddenly, giving me space.

  “You, Lexi, and my mom will work in a factory or on a farm while being fed lies to keep you under control. Jacob and I will be drafted into the army to bolster their dwindling numbers.”

  A vision of the future he'd shown me flashed through my mind. I couldn't believe it. Didn't want to. Yet, he believed what he was saying. That much was obvious. I looked up at him.

  “What will you do? What will we do?”

  Andy deflated, anger spent to be replaced by anguish. “I don't know, Ava. I really don't know.” He turned on his heel and walked to the door. “Tonight, I will take back some of what they stole. Tomorrow...tomorrow will take care of itself.”

  After he left, I stood there, shocked and numb, running over the things he'd told me in my mind. Much of it made sense. Perhaps not all of it, but enough. I could picture able-bodied young men being drafted into the army by force. It had been done before. That the army would be used to control us was not that far-fetched, either. That top officials and their families would live well while the rest were given rations was more than plausible. How the people could or would allow such a thing to happen, I did not know. Yet, with the army against them, what could ordinary people do?

  I bit my lip and considered my options. Stay? Run? Neither were appealing. Sighing, I rubbed my hands over my temples where a headache had now taken hold. Tonight, Andy would go out with the Lost Boys again on what might be their biggest raid yet. Their numbers were growing and who knew where all this might end.

  The question was: Did I let Andy go on his own? Or did I go with him?

  ***

  Andy tiptoed out of the house at a little after eleven that night, dressed in black, carrying a large backpack and a flashlight.

  “I'm coming with you,” I said.

  Andy jumped. “What the...Ava?”

  “Yup.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought you were done.”

  “Babysitting.”

  “I don't need a babysitter.”

  “Yes, you do. I'm coming with you, you big lump. Someone needs to look after you. What would the Lost Boys be without their Wendy?”

  He grinned. “Glad to have you back.”

  A surge of guilt rose for a brief second when I thought about Lexi lying asleep in her bed, but I suppressed it. I won't go in. I'll wait outside, I reassured myself. The words rang false in my head, eliciting another twinge of shame.

  Andy led the way to a secluded spot not far from the school where the army had set up a base. I knew the area well, having attended school there myself, and took note of possible hiding spots along the way. I couldn't help but notice that the streets were empty, no signs of the usual patrols to be seen. Perhaps, Lloyd's information really was on the level.

  At the meeting place, Lloyd, Allen, Matthew, and two others waited. They looked excited, as jittery as Lexi on a sugar rush. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I had to tamp down my own impatience to get on with it.

  “Hey, Andy. This is Thabo and Neill. I got them to help out tonight just like you asked,” Lloyd said.

  Andy shook their hands while I contented myself with a nod. Thabo was young, maybe sixteen, and scrawny. Neill looked like a farmer's son, husky and broad with a ruddy tan.

  Lloyd wasted no time jumping in with the plan. “Right guys. We don't have all night. Have you each got a backpack?”

  Everybody nodded.

  “I've managed to grease a few palms,” Lloyd said.

  “Really?” I asked, rolling my eyes. He sounded like a wannabe gangster.

  “Yes. I bribed the guards at the side gate to look the other way tonight,” he replied. He quirked his eyebrows at me, inviting protest.

  “With what?” I asked. “Money?”

  “Don't worry about it.What do you care anyway? Now if you don't mind, can we get back to the plan?” He shot me a belligerent stare while the rest of the group gave me annoyed looks, and I closed my mouth.

  My dislike of Lloyd had just reached an all-time high. There was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way and his story about bribing the guards seemed far-fetched.

  Yet Andy believed in him.

  I realized a big part of my problem with Lloyd sprouted from jealousy over the close friendship between him and Andy. That epiphany roused questions about my maturity. Was I really that childish?

  Yes, a small voice whispered inside, much to my annoyance.

  “Like I said, the guards will look the other way while we go in and raid the staff kitchens. If all goes well, we might even be able to do more than one trip.” Lloyd indicated a pile of extra bags hidden between the bushes. “That's why I brought these just in case.”

  He looked around at each of us. “Tonight's an easy score guys, and a big one for the team.”

  Low cheers went up and my heart beat faster in anticipation. I was ready, more than ready for some real excitement and a chance at revenge against the army. Yet the small voice in my head wouldn't shut up, cautioning me. Something's not right. You can't trust the guards. What if it's a trap?

  I shook my head, willing the thoughts away but couldn't shake off the growing unease I felt. My hand moved to my father's gun, tucked away in its holster beneath my jacket. It was comforting in a way but also a reminder of the very real danger we faced.

  After a few more questions, the group was off, moving into the school with me hanging back. I still hadn't made up my mind and my thoughts were scattered all over the place. We crossed the street in a low run, hunkering down against the school's fence. The spot we hid in was overgrown with ivy and ferns, providing good cover.

  “Ready guys?” Andy asked.

  Everyone nodded except me. Our eyes met and I hesitated, chewing my lip. Everything within me was saying yes but something held me back. What would my dad think of all this? Short answer: I was being stupid and I should listen to my instincts.

  For a second, I closed my eyes, then opened them and shook my head. I wasn't going in. Andy's lips thinned but after a moment he nodded, mouthing the words 'Stay safe.'

  “Let's go,” he said to the rest. They were off, slipping through a small gate onto the school grounds where three guards pretended not to see them, turning their backs. I moved further away until I was sure no one at the gate could see me. Huddling into a tiny ball, I nestled inside a clump of ferns and prepared to wait.

  The minutes ticked by, each longer and slower than the last. My stomach churned, threatening to rid itself of dinner. I swallowed, breathing through my nose and tried to calm myself. It was a hopeless task. “Come on, Andy. Hurry up.”

  Should I have gone? There was still time to change my mind. I was about to stand up when shouts rang out inside the grounds, followed by gunshots. I jerked to attention, nerves taut, ears straining to make out what was happening.

  “Fuck,” I whispered, my heart bouncing like a rubber ball.

  More shots.

  A cry filled with pain caused me to wince.

  Andy? One of the others?

  “Shit, shit, shit!” I swore. “It's a fucking trap.”

  We'd been set-up, and I was sure I knew who was behind it. “Lloyd,” I whispered. Venomous feelings bubbled up
inside. “You traitor.”

  His story of bribing the guards was just that, a story. Maybe my dislike of him was coloring my perception. Maybe he had nothing to do with it and I was just being jealous again. Yet, I didn't believe that.

  The question was, what now? Andy and his group were trapped inside while I was stuck outside. Charging in and rescuing them was out of the question. I wasn't that stupid. Moreover, if Lloyd had talked, they'd be coming for me too.

  I got to my feet but kept hidden, weighing my options. Do I wait? Do I run? What do I do?

  These questions whirled through my mind, melting into one single refrain. Stay, run, stay, run, stay, run.

  If only I could create a diversion. That might give a few of them the chance to slip away.

  More shouts, another few shots.

  The action was moving closer now.

  The guards congregated around the gate, curious to see what was going on inside. That's when I saw my opportunity.

  I ran forward in a low crouch until I reached an army jeep parked near the gate. I'd seen one of the guards use the automatic lighter inside it earlier and hoped he'd left the door unlocked. With the guards still distracted, I reached up and gripped the handle.

  It was open.

  “Thank God.”

  Inside, I fumbled around in the dark until I remembered my own lighter which rode in my pocket from habit. With its bright glow guiding me, I found the lever for the petrol cap. Every second counted and my heart was racing, pumping adrenalin through my veins.

  I closed the door with a soft click and ran for the open cap, fumbling to pull off my balaclava. After rolling it up tightly, I stuffed it into the petrol tank, leaving a small bit sticking out. I lit the end, waiting until I was sure the wool burned hot and fast. Then I ran back the way I came in a low crouch, praying for a miracle.

  I had no idea if it would work, had no idea what I was doing. All I could do was hope that a piece of burning wool would fall into the tank. I reached my spot and hunkered down, waiting.

  Inside the school, more shouts rose and the gunshots tapered off. A good sign? Or had they already shot everyone?

  A muffled thump from the jeep tore through the night, eliciting startled yelps from both me and the soldiers at the gate. Flames balled into the night, bright and fiery. It wasn't the spectacular explosion I'd hoped for, not like the movies anyway, but I prayed it was enough.

  The guards crowded around the burning jeep, shouting at each other. From inside the grounds, I heard someone cry halt. A few seconds later, two figures sprinted through the gate, unhampered by the pre-occupied guards.

  Only two?

  As they got closer, I recognized Andy followed by Matthew. They were running all out, arms and legs pumping. From the gate, more figures spilled, all of them in hot pursuit. As the boys reached my hiding place I jumped up. “Keep going!”

  I fell in behind them, hard put to keep up with their furious pace. Behind us, a shot rang out, clipping the ground next to me. I cried out, veering away. Remembering the advice I'd once given to Lloyd, I zigzagged across the road to present a poorer target.

  More shots rang out. With a pained cry, Matthew fell to the ground, bullets spattering around him. Andy faltered, turning back. “Matt!”

  I grabbed him by the arm and tugged. “Move!”

  In my mind, there was no question of stopping. Matthew was on his own.

  “No,” Andy shouted. “We can't leave him.”

  “We have to!”

  I dragged Andy until he gave up and started running again. Bullets cut through the night as we ran, a few whizzing by so close I could feel the wind. At one point, Andy stumbled, nearly going down but then he recovered and kept going.

  We ran until my lungs cried out for relief and my legs were on fire. Down side streets and in amongst houses we wove, with pursuit ever on our heels. “We're not going to make it.”

  “Fucking run,” Andy replied. “Stop whining.”

  That stung. It made me run, though.

  Andy was running next to a hedge. “Get ready.”

  “For what?” I puffed.

  “This.” He grabbed my arm and yanked me into the hedge, through a low opening into an open field. Bullets clipped the leaves above our heads and Andy stiffened, grunting as we almost fell through the hole.

  We stumbled to our feet and kept running until we reached a concrete drainage ditch. Andy slid down into it, breath rasping in and out of his lungs. I hesitated on the edge but flashlights from behind spurred me onward. The sides were slick with moss and algae, the slimy carpet of foliage took us to the bottom where we splashed ankle deep into icy water.

  “Come on,” Andy said. His voice sounded funny. Something was wrong. There was no time to stop, however. We had to keep moving.

  He led the way inside a large concrete pipe at the end of the ditch. It was about half Andy's height and he had to bend double while I hunched down. Immediately, the air grew cooler and our splashing feet echoed ahead.

  “Hold on,” Andy said, stopping inside the mouth. Outside, lay a large bundle of branches covered in leaves which he pulled closer, blocking the entrance. I caught on and rushed over, helping him to hide our retreat.

  When we were done, Andy turned away and walked deeper into the pipe. “Come on, Ava. Keep quiet.”

  I followed close behind, placing my feet with care. One hand was stretched to the side, fingertips brushing across slick concrete while the other held on to Andy. It was pitch black inside and my breath came in frightened rasps.

  It was getting colder and colder. My wet feet were numb and my teeth chattered. I kept stretching my eyes, hoping for a smidgen of light but there was none. The pipe got narrower. I could feel the sides closing in and my chest constricted.

  This played to my worst fear. Claustrophobia. I hated confined spaces.

  “Andy,” I whimpered.

  “Shh, almost there.”

  His assertion relaxed me a little. At least he knew where he was going. Had gone this way before. At long last, the pipe opened up, the floor lifting into a steep incline. Up ahead I could spot a light. It was faint, but growing by the second. My heart lifted and I picked up the pace.

  After a few more seconds, we were outside, in another empty field. I looked around at the stunted thorn trees bathed in silvery light. A pitted, scarred road tapered off to the left and across it stood a building. Or rather the shell of one.

  “I know where we are,” I exclaimed.

  It was an old shopping center from years before. The place was on the outer reach of town, abandoned and vandalized. We must have come farther than I thought.

  Andy grunted. “Good.”

  I looked at him, alerted by the strain in his voice and noticed his hunched shoulders. As I watched, he keeled forward, slumping to his knees before pitching onto his face.

  “Andy!” I rushed over and pushed him onto his side. “What's wrong?”

  “Shot,” he mumbled. “I've been shot.”

  His hands were pressed to his side, blood pushing out between his fingers. It glinted in the moonlight, and the tang of it hit my nose.

  “Oh, my God. What do I do?” I asked, shaking him.

  He shook his head, teeth gritted together. Andy had no answers for me. It was up to me now.

  18

  Chapter 17

  Andy's backpack was in the way and I had to remove it. It was no easy task with a big man like him but I managed, tossing it aside. Then I pried his fingers away from his side, lifting up his shirt.

  “Holy...” Words failed me.

  Somehow, in my mind, I'd equated bullet wounds with neat, round little holes. Not this gaping crater of human flesh. It was gushing blood and his clothes were soaked. How he'd managed to run so far without collapsing was beyond me. Adrenalin?

  I ripped off my jacket and jersey, flinging them to the side, then removed my shirt. With my hands and teeth, I tore off the shirt-sleeves, using them to make a thick pad which I pressed to the
hole. I placed Andy's hands over it. “Andy, hold this. I need to check your back.”

  It had occurred to me that the wound in the front was the exit wound. There had to be an entry point. I rolled him onto his side, eliciting an agonized cry from Andy. Sure enough, there it was. This one looked more like what I expected to see. Small and round, it oozed blood. I pulled off my gloves, wadding them into a ball which I pressed to the hole then cast around for a way to keep the pad in place. My eyes lit on his belt.

  “Sorry about this,” I muttered, laying Andy back down. I undid his buckle and pulled the belt out, trying not to jolt him. Once more, I rolled him over and worked the strap underneath and around him.

  Andy's cries as I moved him were heartrending. I had to force myself to keep going and without realizing it, I began to cry, the tears rolling unheeded down my cheeks.

  The original pad I'd placed over the front had soaked through and was now useless. I grabbed the rest of my shirt, bundled it up and pressed it over the wound. With shaking hands, I buckled the belt and pulled it as tight as I dared. Once both wounds were plugged up, I sat back on my heels, pushing tendrils of hair out of my face. Goosebumps decorated my arms.

  Andy was moaning, eyelids fluttering. He didn't look conscious and I had no idea what to do next. Without proper medical care, he would die. Taking him home was impossible. Not only would he be unable to make the journey but there weren't any answers there. No magical treatment that could cure him. Besides, I was sure soldiers were waiting for us.

  If Lloyd had given us up like I suspected, they knew who we were. Maybe he hadn't and it was the soldiers at the gate who betrayed us but it was a chance I couldn't afford to take.

  I looked around. Our surroundings gave me no comfort. We needed to get out of the open. It would be dawn in a matter of hours. Leaning forward, I patted Andy on the cheek. He still wore his balaclava and I pulled it off, stuffing it into my pocket.

  “Andy. Andy, wake up.”

  No response. I patted harder.

  “Andy, please. Come on, babes. I need you.”

  His eyes opened and blinked several times. A small smile crept onto his lips and he spoke in a faint murmur. “You called me babes. First time you done that.”