by Ryan Casey
Laura walked to the foot of a cot. Stopped opposite it. Stared inside. “What do you think?”
Kyle shook his head. “Fuck.”
“Just keep your shit together. She’s a baby. Not many people knew about her. She can’t have gone far.”
“We’re fucked. Without her, we’re fucked—”
“I told you to keep your shit together, okay?”
Kyle felt his teeth chattering. He squinted, so he wouldn’t have to look at the blood coating this room. “Those poor kids. Why did they have to die?”
Laura shrugged, like the pair of them were doing nothing more than hypothesising about a television show. “There had to be a reason.”
“And you think there’s a reason? A reason to… to justify this?”
Laura walked over to Kyle. Put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s always a reason, brother. There’s always a…”
Her eyes darted behind Kyle.
He saw the momentary glint of anger in them.
Then, he saw them light up.
“I think I know who’ll be able to help us.”
Laura stepped around Kyle. She walked towards the other side of the room.
Kyle wasn’t sure what to expect. Wasn’t sure who he’d find on the other side of the room.
But when he turned, he saw Margery lying across the floor, blood oozing between snapped teeth.
She looked up at Laura and Kyle not with fear but with pure resignation. And Kyle couldn’t help pitying her. She looked after this place. Looked out for the babies.
But she also knew.
She knew about the girl.
That was dangerous.
Laura crouched opposite Margery. Smiled, the torchlight illuminating Margery like a spotlight on a stage. “The girl. Where is she?”
Margery stared at Laura for a few seconds. Held her gaze, not saying a word.
And then Laura pulled out a knife.
Pressed it to Margery’s neck.
“The girl, Margery. I don’t have time to mess around here. I don’t have—”
“She’s gone,” Margery winced. “She—she’s gone. And you’ll… you’ll never find her. Never.”
She smiled. Smiled, even though it looked like the most painful smile in the world.
Started laughing.
Kyle knew that was a bad idea from the off. He knew what happened when people laughed at his sister. He’d seen it first-hand.
The smell of burning.
The sound of his parents screaming.
And that look on his sister’s face. That smile.
Like she’d wanted it all along.
“Laura, just—”
But Kyle’s words fell on deaf ears.
Laura pulled back the heavy duty torch and swung it at Margery’s face. Cracked her right across the cheek. The sound of a bone splitting echoed around the nursery.
“I won’t ask you again,” Laura said, lifting Margery’s head, pressing the knife right into her skin. “Not nicely, anyway. I’ll make it very painful for you. Make it so painful that what those babies went through’ll seem like nothing to you. Nothing at fucking all. So I ask you again. Nicely, just the once more. Where did the girl go?”
That intense stare remained on Margery’s blood-soaked face for a few seconds.
Then, the smile returned.
She spat. Spat out a bloody, phlegmy blob, right into Laura’s face.
A molar shot out with it, tumbled down to the floor.
“You’ll never find her,” Margery said. “Never.”
Kyle saw his sister’s face turn. Saw it turn in that instant. And although he wanted to know where the girl was too—although he knew it was crucial to everything they’d done—he didn’t want to witness whatever was next.
“Laura, you don’t have to…”
Laura pulled back the knife.
Went to swing it at Margery’s right arm.
“There’s—there’s a tunnel!”
The voice came from outside the nursery. From somewhere just outside. A man’s voice. A man’s voice that startled everyone.
Kyle shone his torch at the door.
A man was standing there. A skinny man he vaguely recognised. Might’ve worked in the grocery store or on the farm. Somewhere like that.
“A tunnel?” Kyle asked.
The man looked at Kyle and Laura, who still had that knife raised over a delirious, barely conscious Margery. He nodded. “There’s a tunnel. Over in the old cabin just across the field. And we—we found someone in there. Someone trying to get away.”
Kyle nodded. He looked back at Laura.
“We also found a shoe. A little girl’s shoe.”
Laura looked up at the man, broken from her trance.
Then she looked back at Kyle. Smiled. “Then that’s where we go,” she said.
She looked back at Margery.
Lowered the knife.
Patted Margery on the shoulder.
“Sleep well.”
And then she rammed the blade into Margery’s stomach.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Blood oozed down Margery’s mouth. Fear filled her eyes. But more than anything, Kyle noticed that look on his sister’s face. That look of enjoyment. That look of release.
When she finished, she wiped her hands on Margery’s dead body and rubbed them together, like she’d merely finished washing herself or something menial like that.
Then she smiled at Kyle. “You know what we have to do, don’t you?”
Kyle wanted to disagree. He wanted to revolt against his sister. To tell her she was stepping over the edge.
Instead, he just nodded.
He just nodded his head and followed her out of the nursery. Away from the blood. Into the night.
They had a kid to capture.
And they were going to succeed, one way or another.
No matter what it took.
SEVENTEEN
Chloë stared at the tunnel entrance and made her final steps towards it.
It was pitch black now. The air was chilly, not helped by Chloë’s lack of coat—or food, for that matter. The woods were silent. Empty. So much so that it made her feel uneasy. It never used to be this empty. No matter what, there was always something or somebody waiting to step around the corner and attack you. The smell of rot, the taste of smoke from a rival camp, all of it was all just a part of everyday life.
Not anymore.
Everything was quiet.
Everything was different.
She held on tight to Kesha. Stumbled towards the tunnel entrance. There were no monsters around it anymore. All of them had gone away to… well, wherever. As she walked towards it, she felt every footstep getting heavier. She felt herself getting less and less sure of what she was going to do, about what she had to do.
But she knew the truth.
She needed to get Kesha back onto the island where people would look out for her. Maybe not the right people. But they’d wanted her alive for some reason. Garth hadn’t just shot her like he’d shot everyone else. That had to be something.
Besides, Chloë had to see her dad. She had to see him and she had to know. For sure.
She’d heard the gunshots when she ran away. She knew what they meant.
But she’d never seen him dead.
She remembered the last time she’d thought he was dead. All those months convinced he wasn’t out there, a small niggling voice within telling her he was, she was going to see him again, one way or another.
She could hear that voice again now.
She just wasn’t sure whether to believe it.
She walked over to the tunnel entrance. Put Kesha onto her back, lightly held her little hands together with her teeth. Only way she had of carrying her down.
She looked back at the woods she’d walked through. The moonlight above, peeking through the clouds every now and then, lit up her surroundings. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She felt
herself turning back into that warrior she knew she still hid deep down.
Just not now.
“I’m sorry,” Chloë said, shuffling down the ladder. Descending or climbing a ladder wasn’t easy with one hand. But she’d trained herself to get used to just that one arm. She’d done a decent job with it so far, she knew that much. She’d learned to use a few weapons. Learned how to climb.
But it would never be perfect.
It would never be easy.
“Sorry for… for all of this.”
Kesha had been so quiet for a while. Not totally silent. Still making little babyish noises from time to time. She’d been good. Considering she must be starving and terrified and freezing, she’d been good.
“You’ll be back with Mummy soon,” Chloë said.
It was at that point that Chloë stopped. Thinking about it, she’d never met Kesha’s mum. Which wasn’t so weird. Lots of kids were orphans these days. Just like…
The realisation kicked her in the gut.
She was about to think: just like herself.
She shook off the thought. Carried on down the ladder. Because she wasn’t an orphan. She had been. She knew what it felt like to be one back when her mum died. When her dad seemed so, so far away. After all the bad things people did to her. But she wasn’t one. Not now. Not anymore.
Which was why she had to find Dad.
She had to find him again because he was the only thing stopping her from being an orphan.
She knew what kind of person she turned into when she was an orphan.
She dropped to the bottom of the tunnel floor. Heard her footsteps echo as she landed. It was cold down here. Cold and damp. A bitter smell to the air. The sound of dripping way into the distance.
Chloë faced the darkness and she held her breath. Even though she knew she was doing the right thing, she still couldn’t bring herself to make that first step. Because she’d seen terrible things on Bardsey Island. She’d seen the place she called home the last few months fall apart.
She’d seen what people did to people there.
And yet she wanted to go back?
Her shoulders slumped. She knew why she had to go back. She had to go back because she didn’t have a choice.
She started to walk.
The walk stretched on. Seemed even longer than it did when she’d walked through here in the first place. The further she got into the tunnel, the more trapped she felt. Because this wasn’t like the darkness up in the woods. This was something else entirely. Like another world. If you sat down in here and didn’t say anything to anyone, didn’t think a thing, that must be what it’s like to be dead.
Like Elizabeth.
Like Mum.
Like Dad.
No.
Not like Dad.
Dad was okay. She was going to find Dad and she was going to get back to him. She was going to…
Her thoughts froze when she saw the lights ahead.
She couldn’t believe them. Couldn’t believe she could actually see lights. Not at first. She wondered if maybe they were just a sign that she was getting closer. But it didn’t seem like she’d been walking for long. No, not long enough at all.
And then, far down the tunnel, she heard voices echoing.
Footsteps getting closer towards her.
Chloë froze. Her heart raced. She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know where to turn. Did she keep walking? Did she hand over Kesha? Did she leave Kesha behind and run?
She remembered the look in Margery’s eyes. Remembered the look in Dad’s eyes.
Both of them telling her to go.
To take Kesha.
To keep her safe.
The lights got closer.
The footsteps and the voices echoed nearer.
She knew what she had to do.
There was only one thing she could do right now and as much as she didn’t want to do it, she knew she had to.
She turned. Ran away. Ran up the tunnel. Ran back towards the woods. She didn’t know where she was going to go. She didn’t know where she was going to run to. Just that she had to. She had to get away. She had to keep Kesha safe. She had to—
She heard something else up ahead.
She didn’t see any light. Didn’t see a thing in that darkness.
But when she stopped to figure out what she’d heard, she didn’t need light to know what was ahead.
There was groaning.
Groaning, at the opposite end of the tunnel.
Groaning, getting closer towards her.
Groaning, trapping her inside here as the lights edged ever closer.
EIGHTEEN
Chloë heard the footsteps of the monsters stepping closer towards her up ahead.
And she heard the footsteps of the people behind getting ever closer.
She was stuck in the middle of them. Stuck underground. Trapped.
She took a step back. Pulled Kesha closer. Her mind spun a million thoughts all within the space of a second. Part of her told her to run back. To shout to the people heading her way that there were monsters in here and that she had Kesha in her arm, and maybe then they wouldn’t shoot her.
But another part of her heard those approaching footsteps and saw those lights and she thought back to the way those people had been shooting each other back on Bardsey Island. The way they were trying to fight their way into the High Lord’s palace on top of the hill. The way they’d shot at the babies.
Shot her dad.
She realised right then at that moment that she didn’t want to give Kesha back. Because it wasn’t safe for Kesha with those people. Wasn’t safe for her at all.
She ran towards the monsters. She didn’t know how far ahead they were. She could smell them getting nearer, though. That smell that she’d almost forgotten when she’d been living on the island, that awful sourness in the air that always reminded her of the blood, of the sight of people eating each other, the sounds of teeth snapping together, ripping flesh from bones.
And yet she ran towards them.
She ran towards them because it was all she could think to do.
Because she knew she just had to get away from those people now. Something inside her told her that’s what she had to do.
Not just for Kesha. Not really for Kesha at all.
But because she knew that if she gave Kesha up, she’d be all alone.
She didn’t want to be alone anymore.
She rubbed against the side of the tunnel. There had to be somewhere in here. Somewhere to wait. Somewhere to hide. She thought about her knife. She could get that out. Use it on the monsters. But it was dark, so she didn’t know how many of them there was.
She had to hide.
She had to keep running and she had to find somewhere to…
She felt the side of the tunnel dip. Felt something cold and metallic there. A pipe of some kind.
There was a gap.
A tiny gap. Barely big enough for her to squeeze into. Barely big enough for Kesha to squeeze through, let alone herself.
But the footsteps in either direction were getting closer.
She had to do something fast or she’d die.
She had to do something fast or Kesha would die in her arm.
She pushed Kesha in between the pipes. She didn’t know where she was pushing her to, and for a horrified moment, Chloë wondered if maybe she was making a mistake. If maybe Kesha would get stuck in there, stuck in between the pipes in the darkness, never able to get out.
But then she felt a wall at the back of the pipes. A little alcove.
She put Kesha down, pulled out her arm and started to squeeze through.
The squeeze was tight. She had to hold her breath completely. The metal scraped against her ribs. If she’d been as skinny as she was when she was out surviving all alone, she might’ve been able to make it easily. But not anymore. It was tough. Tight.
She was going to get trapped.
She was going to be ripped in half.
She heard the echoing groans just feet away. It made her feel cold all over. The sloshing footsteps got nearer to her. The lights behind didn’t seem to be getting any closer.
The monster.
It was getting closer.
It was going to get her.
She pushed some more. Pushed against the pipes. Tried to force her way between them. She swore she felt a rib crack, felt a splitting pain.
But still she kept on—
Something grabbed her right arm.
And then it pushed against her with its dead weight.
A rotting smell surrounded Chloë.
She reached for her knife. Reached for her knife but she couldn’t grab it. She was trapped in here. Her hand was stuck.
The monster snarled. Its teeth clicked just a few inches from Chloë’s neck.
She squeezed her eyes together. Waited. “Sorry Kesha. So sorry.”
And then she heard a blast.
She felt the cold fluid cover her face. Felt the monster’s body go limp, fall against her.
Knock her through the pipes, into that alcove.
She didn’t realise what’d happened, not at first.
Not until she felt the warmth of baby Kesha by her side.
She held on to Kesha. Held on as the lights got closer. The people were so close now. Up ahead, Chloë saw the darkened silhouettes of the monsters wading past her. She held on to Kesha. Squeezed her, tight. Please don’t cry. Please don’t make them look our way. Please.
She watched the people step into view. Although they had torches, although their gunfire filled the tunnel, she couldn’t see their faces properly. She didn’t want to.
She just wanted to stay here and stay quiet. She didn’t want any attention. None at all.
She just wanted—
Kesha wailed.
Chloë’s body tightened. The gunshots. They’d stopped. Silence filled the tunnel.
She put a hand over her mouth to stop her crying some more.
She felt bad as she sat there with her hand over her mouth, with Kesha struggling underneath.
But she saw the people ahead of her standing still. Shining their lights all around the tunnel. Everywhere but here.
Please. Please everywhere but here. Everywhere but…
A light shone right at Chloë.
She knew this was it. She knew it was over.
