by Ryan Casey
And then the monster went still.
Blood, eye gunk, all of it dribbled down Chloë’s arm.
But she’d taken down the monster. She was okay.
She pushed the monster aside. Rushed over to her knife. Grabbed it.
When she turned back around, she swore she saw something sneak out of the monster’s skull.
Disappear into the grass.
She stood there for a few seconds. Stood there trying to work out whether she’d really seen something move, or whether her eyes were just playing tricks on her.
And then she remembered what she was doing.
She was trying to save Kesha. She was going back for her. Making up for her mistake.
So she disregarded the movement and ran back in the direction she’d been heading before meeting the monster.
It didn’t take her long to find her footsteps again. And the further she ran, the more aware of her surroundings she got. She looked up at the tops of trees. Looked around, listened for a crying sound.
But she didn’t hear any.
All she heard was footsteps in the woods.
Footsteps closing in on her.
Movement in the shadows.
She tried to keep her focus off her surroundings. If there were monsters, then she really needed to get to Kesha. She could climb up that tree. Get her down. Or wait up there if she had to.
Whatever the case, she had to get to Kesha.
She had to get her down.
She had to…
She came to a stop. Suddenly. Skidded in the mud.
She saw the tree where Kesha was.
Only Kesha wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Three people stood around the bottom of Kesha’s tree. A woman and two men. All of them who Chloë recognised. All of them from Bardsey Island.
All of them were looking up at the top of the tree.
Looking up at Kesha, who was crying up there.
Looking up, smiles on their faces, guns in their hands.
They had her.
TWENTY-TWO
Chloë’s heart raced as she stared at the three Bardsey Islanders standing around the tree beneath Kesha.
They were laughing about something. Smiling. They all had guns in their hands and were dressed up in thick looking gear even though it was another warm afternoon. Above them, up the tree, Kesha was wailing. Hearing her cry just made Chloë feel even worse. Because it was her fault that she was stuck up that tree in the first place. If she hadn’t tied her up there, left her behind, this wouldn’t be a problem.
But she was. And Chloë had done what she’d done.
She had to live with that.
For a moment, as the taste of vomit thickened in Chloë’s mouth, she wondered if maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing at all. After all, Kesha had been found. She was going to be okay. These islanders were going to take her away and she was going to be safe.
But was she really?
Did she really believe that after seeing what Garth did to the other babies back on Bardsey Island?
Something told Chloë that these people had different plans for Kesha. That they didn’t really care about her. They cared about themselves.
But for some reason, they wanted Kesha.
For some reason that would benefit themselves.
So she had to do something.
She started to shuffle closer. Tighten her grip on the knife. These people were armed, but she could use the knife on one of them. Try and take them down. But no. They’d just shoot her. They’d just turn around and shoot her. She had to try something else. She had to find another way. She had to…
She heard the groans in the woods behind. Heard the footsteps edging closer. She knew if she sat here much longer, the monsters would be upon her. She had to move.
Unless…
Chloë turned around. Looked at the silhouettes moving through the trees.
She saw what she had to do in an instant.
She edged back towards the monsters. Got closer and closer to them, so they were absolutely sure where she was.
And when she got closer to them, she turned back around. Made sure they followed her. Followed her around the outskirts of the open area where the islanders surrounded Kesha’s tree. Followed her, as she kept as quiet as she could, as low as she could.
She reached the other side of the tree. She could still hear the footsteps behind her. But the islanders hadn’t. They were still too interested in the tree. One of them was halfway up there, close to reaching Kesha’s wailing position. Shit. He was going to get Kesha. He was going to get her and then he was going to get down here and the monsters were going to get them all. She needed to do something else. She needed to distract the islanders. She needed to think.
She glanced back at the monsters on her left. She knew they’d be at the islanders’ position any minute now. But any minute wasn’t good enough. She had to try something else.
She pulled back her knife. She didn’t want to let go of it. Didn’t want to lose it.
She aimed it at the back of the neck of the woman. Readied herself to throw it.
And then she heard gunshots from the other side of the monsters.
Gunshots, changing the direction of the monsters.
The woman who Chloë aimed the knife at spun around. Squinted into the undergrowth. Stepped towards it. “Hear that?”
The bald man, who Chloë thought was called Steve, but she couldn’t properly remember, nodded. “Hard not to hear it. Wanna go check it out?”
The woman shook her head. “We know what we’ve gotta do. Get the girl and get back to camp.”
“But, Cara, if there’s—”
“You know what our orders are, Steve.”
Chloë watched Steve and Cara in the midst of their argument. The other islander reached the top of the tree. Grabbed Kesha.
“Got her!”
“Alright,” Cara said. “Then you get your butt back down here so we can get ourselves the hell out of—”
Cara didn’t finish what she was saying.
Chloë threw the knife right into the side of her neck.
She ran at her. Ran at the back of Cara as she clutched her neck, blood spewing out of it, gargling and choking her.
Steve didn’t even notice at first. Took him a few seconds to properly process what was happening.
When he did, he was already too late.
Chloë had Cara’s gun.
She squeezed the trigger with all the strength she had in her left arm.
Blasted three bullets right into the middle of his chest.
She dropped the gun, then. It was too heavy for her anyway. She pulled the knife out of Cara’s neck. Cara still wasn’t dead. Her eyes were wide. Her face was white. She pressed against her skin, trying to keep the blood from gushing out. Chloë knew she wouldn’t be alive for much longer.
Chloë watched the man and Kesha climb further down the tree. He was grinning away to himself. Whistling away. Chatting, like his two friends were still down here just waiting.
Behind, Chloë heard the monsters getting closer.
Heard the gunshots whooshing past just feet away.
She had to hurry.
She had to hurry the hell up.
The third man stepped down onto the ground, Kesha in his arms. “Hell, she’s heavy for a kid. Heavy considerin’ she’s—”
Chloë pressed the knife into his neck.
Pierced his skin.
Pushed it so hard that it hit the bone at the back, made him twitch like mad, drop Kesha to the forest floor below.
She pulled back the knife. And then she grabbed Kesha. The gunshots and the monster groans were so close now. She knew she needed to get out of here. Knew she needed to get the hell out of here fast.
But then she saw something in the man’s top pocket. A gun. A pistol. Smaller than the weapons the other people had. Small enough to operate with one hand.
Caught in two minds, she stumbled back to the man’s side. Gr
abbed the pistol out of his top pocket.
His hand shot up and pulled on Chloe’s arm.
Chloë tried to yank away. The gun went flying out of her hand. She tried to pull away from this man, choking on his own blood. She could hear voices. Hear voices so close. Kesha was crying.
She had to get away.
She had to run.
She had to…
The man’s hand went limp.
The light in his eyes faded away.
Chloë felt relief build in her stomach. She stood. Turned. Started to run away from the voices, the monsters, the—
“Don’t move another fucking muscle, kid.”
Chloë stopped. Closed her eyes. Her heart pounded. The voice. The voice was right behind her. Not far away at all.
She thought about running. About just taking her chances.
“Seriously. I’ll put a bullet through those skinny little ankles of yours if you so much as make a flinch in that direction.”
Chloë shook her head. Felt sickness overcome her.
She was trapped. There was no way out.
She’d lost.
She let go of her breath.
And then she turned around, shoulders slumped.
Standing opposite her were seven people. Seven islanders, all dressed like their friends in thick black clothes, like riot gear. All of them pointing guns right at Chloë.
The woman at the front of the group—a woman Chloë recognised as Laura—smiled. “Game’s up, kid. Walk over here with the baby. And we’ll think about letting you live.”
TWENTY-THREE
“Hand the kid over, Chloë. Seriously, there’s no way this ends well that involves you holding on to that kid. I promise you that.”
Chloë held on to Kesha. The seven islanders stood opposite her, guns raised, pointed right at her. By her side, the fallen bodies of their comrades—the ones Chloë had taken down—had finally gone completely silent. Choked on their own blood.
“There’s a good way and a bad way out of this,” Laura said. She was at the front of the group of seven. She had her gun pointed right towards Chloë’s head. Chloë wondered how she’d got hold of all these guns. They only took guns when they were going out scouting beyond Bardsey Island.
They must’ve been planning this for a long time. That unsettled Chloë.
Kesha cried a little in Chloë’s arm. Chloë held her tighter. It was as if the whole situation became all the more real when Kesha cried. Like the truth of the situation Chloë was in built up. Her mouth was dry. The smell of sweat cut through the fresh air.
She just wanted to be alone again.
Alone with Kesha.
Alone in these woods.
“What is it, kid?” Laura asked. She took a few steps closer to Chloë. Kept her gun pointed at her head at all times. “What’s binding you to little Kesha here?”
“You—you killed the other babies.”
Laura frowned. “I killed the other babies?”
“Your people. Garth. He—”
“What happened with Garth was a terrible mistake. Fucking tragedy, ’scuse my French.” She didn’t look from her expressions like she was all that upset. “But anyway. Garth? What makes you think we’re even on Garth’s side?”
Chloë went to answer. But she thought about Laura’s words for a few seconds. She had a point. What made Chloë so sure she was with Garth?
“Look, I apologise for what happened back there. And come to think of it, I can see why you’d be scared. Why you’d run off like this with Kesha. I can kind of get that.”
She lowered her gun.
“But at the end of the day, this silliness has gotta stop. We’re here to take Kesha back to somewhere safe. To take you back to somewhere safe.”
Chloë swallowed a lump in her throat. Shook her head. “You aren’t.”
“What?”
“You aren’t.”
“And what makes you so sure of that?”
“You… Your people. They shot my dad. They killed… they killed my dad.”
Saying those words out loud were harder than Chloë imagined they could possibly be. Because they made the reality of the situation weigh right down on her shoulders. The truth of matters rear its head.
Dad was dead.
Garth shot Dad dead.
Laura tilted her head to one side. She stuck out her bottom lip, just a little. “Oh, princess. You think your daddy’s dead?”
Chloë frowned. The skin on her arms tingled. “He… I saw—”
“Your daddy’s not dead at all,” Laura said. “Old hard nut’s very much alive. Not in the good books of any of our people after what he did to Garth, I’ll give you that. But he’s alive.”
All of the surroundings faded into the background. All Chloë could think about were those words. Those final words.
He’s alive.
“We can take you back to him. All of us, we can walk away from here together. There’s been a lot of… of mess, these last couple of days. I get that. I get that it’s scary and I get that it’s horrible. But we can put it behind us. Start afresh. After all, people like you are the future of this world, right?”
Chloë’s thoughts were dulled. She didn’t know what to say, how to react. Her dad was alive. He’d done something to Garth, not the other way round.
The gunshots. He must’ve fought back somehow.
But then Chloë swore Garth came running after her…
Unless that was someone else.
Unless it was Dad, all along.
Unless Laura was lying about this whole thing.
“Think about it,” Laura said. A few of the other group members around her lowered their guns, too. And the atmosphere suddenly shifted to something more friendly. More amicable. “Just think about it.”
“Why do you want her so bad?”
Laura’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“Kesha. Because—because this isn’t about me. None of this is about me. It’s about Kesha. Why do you want her so bad? More than anyone else?”
Laura held Chloë’s stare. And for a few seconds, Chloë genuinely lost the sense that she was looking into the eyes of another person. She was just staring into an empty shell.
“There’s things… things you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
“There’s things you can’t understand. You’re too young to—”
“I’ve killed people. I’ve watched people I love die. I’ve led people halfway across the country to get to safety. I’m not too young for anything.”
A fake smile stretched across Laura’s face. She shrugged. Nodded. “You’re right. Kesha is important.”
“Why’s she important?”
Laura looked back at the group surrounding her. Looked back at the silent trees.
And then she turned to Chloë again. “The old leadership. The High Lord. He knows something. Him, and a few others.”
“Knows what?”
“We understand it a little. But not completely. Just know that when we do, we’ll take it a lot more seriously than he ever has.”
Chloë narrowed her eyes. She didn’t know what to say in return to Laura. Didn’t know what to think about any of this. It didn’t make sense. “My dad. Is he…”
“He’s completely fine,” Laura said. She chanced another couple of steps. Gun still by her side. “Not a scratch on him. I promise.”
Chloë looked at Kesha. Felt her weighing down her left arm. She thought about it. Thought about stepping towards Laura. About handing Kesha over. About ending this, once and for all.
“Sorry,” she said.
She took a few steps back. Away from Laura. Kept Kesha in front of her. Not to protect herself, but to protect both of them. Because she knew they wouldn’t shoot Kesha. None of them would shoot Kesha.
Laura lifted her gun. The rest of the group all lifted their guns. “Don’t do this, kid.”
“You won’t shoot.”
“Not now. You’re right
about that.”
Laura edged closer. Her eyes were bloodshot, red with anger.
“But I promise you, you can try running. You can try getting the hell away. But we will catch you. And when we catch you and take Kesha away from you, I’ll put a bullet through you myself. That’s a promise.”
Chloë picked up her pace. Kept on walking backwards. She stumbled on some upturned roots of a tree. She couldn’t do this. She had to turn and run.
But if she turned, Laura would shoot her.
“Drop the kid,” Laura said. “Put her down. Then run. I’ll have a heck of a lot of fun hunting you down—”
Something happened.
Something Chloë didn’t understand.
One second, Laura was standing in front of her.
The next, something drifted into Chloë’s vision. Flew past Laura. Silenced her. Silenced everyone.
A sense that something wasn’t right filled the woods. Everyone went silent.
Terror widened in Laura’s eyes.
She looked down at her torso. Looked at the blood spilling out of the front of her body. Spraying out of her sides.
She stumbled to the left, and the top half of her body split away from the bottom.
Torn guts splattered out onto the forest floor.
Chloë stared at Laura’s fallen body. Silent. The only sound in this woods was the thumping heart in her ears.
She looked up at the rest of the group. Saw the fear in their eyes, too. The misunderstanding.
And then she saw the thing standing behind the man on the left.
Stepping towards him.
Her stomach sank.
Her body tightened.
Tall.
Covered in tarlike flesh.
Long, sharp nails on the ends of its fingertips; piercing teeth sticking out of its gums.
It wasn’t a man.
It wasn’t a monster.
It wasn’t even a thing
But it was something she’d seen before. Not for a long, long time, but something she’d seen.
It was an Orion.
TWENTY-FOUR
Chloë didn’t stand and wait to watch the Orion tear another of the group apart.
She clambered back up the tree. Clambered towards the top of it. She didn’t have her right shoe on anymore. Didn’t want it getting in the way. All the time she climbed, she heard shouting. She heard gunfire. She heard screams.
