Retribution - Book three of Beyond These Walls: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by Michael Robertson

  The excuse he’d been waiting for, Hugh got out of bed. Any hint of sleep got driven from his body by the cold, late October air as he pulled his clothes on before stepping out into the hallway. He and James had rooms opposite one another. Their parents were at the end of the hall. Now he’d moved closer to his brother’s room though, Hugh strained his ears and heard nothing. Maybe he’d imagined it. Then what sounded like a stifled gasp whispered at him through the gap beneath his brother’s bedroom door.

  A glance to the end of the corridor at his parents’ room, Hugh then crossed to his brother’s, gently knocked on the door, and let himself in.

  James stood in just his pants, the skinny boy shock white and shivering, his face sodden with tears.

  “What’s up?” Hugh said.

  While biting his bottom lip, James looked down at his lap.

  “Have you had an accident?”

  James nodded.

  Without another word, Hugh left his brother’s room, returning a few minutes later with the sheets and duvet from his own bed.

  While wrapping his skinny arms around himself, James said, “Wh … what are you going to sleep in?”

  “I’ll take your bedding.”

  “But it’s soaked.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “Aren’t you worried what Dad will say to you?” James took on a mocking version of his dad. “You’re too old to be pissing the bed. Are you a little girl? What’s wrong with you, boy? You’ve heard how he goes off.”

  “Screw Dad. I don’t care what he thinks. Besides, I won’t be here after tomorrow anyway.”

  Although he didn’t move to help him, almost as if he felt ashamed to even touch his wet sheets, James spoke through stuttered sobs. “Thank you.”

  After he’d flipped the mattress, changed the sheets, and got his brother tucked back in again, Hugh sat on the edge of his bed. He stared at the innocent face of his little brother and wiped his hair from his forehead. “Better?”

  Tears still in his eyes, James nodded.

  “You don’t look it.”

  “I’m scared, Hugh.”

  “Is that why you had an accident?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of what’ll happen to me when you’re gone. Of the gangs in the woodwork district. Of Lance.”

  The thought of dark red blood belched from a deep wound in Hugh’s mind. After shaking his head, he got his thoughts back on track. “What do you know about Lance? What’s he said to you?”

  James cried freely again. “That you’ll only be here to look after me for so long. That I’ll have to fight for myself while you’re losing the trials to Ranger.”

  “But I’ll be back.”

  “He said a lot can happen in five months.”

  Elizabeth’s arms and legs spasming. Lance and Ranger standing over her. Her bloody nose. What did they do to her behind that wall?

  “Hugh?”

  Another shake of his head to pull his attention back to the room, Hugh said, “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  The tears had left James’ eyes, which were now narrowed as he appraised his brother, his head tilted to one side. “You’ve not been the same since you came back from national service.”

  The lie raced to the edge of Hugh’s mouth, but he stopped it dead. The kid knew. Why pretend he felt okay? “It’s a hard time on national service. A lot happens and it takes its toll.”

  “Like it did with Dad?”

  “No! Nothing like with him. I’m not him.”

  James pulled his new duvet up so it covered the bottom half of his mouth, and he said, “Please don’t bottle up how you feel.”

  “You sound like Mum.”

  “She’s right. Dad doesn’t believe in talking about how he feels, and look what it’s done to him.”

  Hugh bit back his initial reaction. It took the fire from his words and he spoke with a soft tone. “I’m not Dad.”

  As he looked from one of Hugh’s eyes to the other, James said, “I don’t know what you need to do to feel better, and I know you’re not Dad, but you’re not the brother I knew either. I miss him.”

  Were Hugh not already sitting down, his brother’s words would have taken his legs from beneath him. After he’d drawn a deep breath to try to ease the stabbing pain in his chest, he nodded. “I miss me, too. Look, James, I want you to trust me with something.”

  The skin at the sides of James’ eyes pinched. “What?”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m away.”

  “But—”

  “Nothing! You hear me?”

  James nodded.

  “Then I’ll be back and we can be a normal family.”

  “Will we finally get to meet Elizabeth?”

  Ranger’s sneering grin punched through Hugh’s thoughts. “Yeah. You’re going to love her. Now get some sleep. Everything’s going to be okay. And while I’m away, I’ll make sure I find your brother and bring him back with me, okay? Sorry if I’ve been a bit distracted; I just need time to work some things out. I love you, mate.”

  “I love you too.”

  After kissing his brother’s forehead, Hugh stood up and left the room.

  Chapter 15

  Matilda’s tossing and turning had kept Spike in a state of half sleep for most of the night. When she finally sat up, dragging the covers with her and exposing him to the cold air in the room, it drove away any hope of rest. A candle burned beside the bed, animating the shadows around them, making a gargoyle’s mask of her tired face. In Edin, anyone falling asleep with a naked flame still lit could be punished by eviction—the risk of fire was too great. But Matilda hadn’t slept for days and didn’t appear to be close to it any time soon. Swiping her hair back from her face, she said, “Your mum must hate me by now.”

  Spike stared at his love. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her skin had grown paler as if the past month had drained the life from her and continued to drain it. “Mum knows I need to be here. She understands.”

  When Matilda regarded him with a raised eyebrow, Spike thought about the several heated conversations he’d had with his mum over the past few weeks and shrugged. “She will understand. Besides, whatever happens, I’ll be spending time with her after the trials. We know very few things for sure, but one of them is that I’ll be able to go to the agricultural district when all’s said and done.”

  The flickering flame found the glaze in Matilda’s eyes as they lost focus for a second before she said, “And he said nothing to you?”

  Since he’d come back from visiting Artan earlier that day, they’d been over it plenty of times already, but Matilda needed to hear it again. “Nothing that made sense, no.”

  “What, he just …?”

  As much as he wanted to lie to her, Spike went back to his visit to the justice department’s building. He returned to the moment where he watched the boy trace a circle on the floor. “He’s not doing well, Tilly.”

  A fresh wave of tears ran down her cheeks, leaking from her unblinking eyes. The only time Spike had seen colour in her skin came with the red blotches her grief lifted on her face.

  The thought had been churning inside Spike for a few days now. With just a couple of hours before he got a carriage to the trials, he had to say it. “Shall I stay?”

  When Matilda looked at him, her eyes shifting from one of his to the other, she worked her mouth but clearly couldn’t speak.

  His stomach sank and it took a great will to continue. “I’ll stay; we’ll work it out.”

  “No!” She looked at her lap and sighed. “There’s no point.”

  Spike reached across and stroked her back. He’d spent over three weeks living with her. He wasn’t looking forward to sharing a room with Hugh, Ranger, and James Swank, not now that he’d had this. “I want to be with you. More than anything.”

  “I want you to be with me too, but you won’t be if you don’t go on the trials. You’ll be forced into agriculture and I�
�ll be here. Forever. You won’t be able to visit Artan, and we won’t see each other. As much as I don’t want you to go away, staying makes no sense.”

  “I could sneak over here to be with you at night.”

  “You might get away with that for a short while, but it’s not a permanent fix. You think Jan will keep her mouth shut when she sees you coming and going? And you’ve seen what this city does to people who break the rules.”

  “I want to be with you while you’re going through this.”

  “I want to be with you forever, Spike, and the only way for that to happen is for you to smash these trials. It’s going to be a hard five months, but Artan has a few years before he’s old enough to be evicted, and as much as I don’t want to leave him in that cell—especially in his current state—we have a whole host of bad options in front of us, and I’d say this is the best of the lot.”

  There seemed little point in arguing, as he had no better case to make. While sitting up, Spike pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head, breathing in her floral scent, saving the memory of it. “This is the final stretch. We’ve made it here, so there’s no reason why we can’t go all the way. I’ve trained as hard as I can. I’ll fight for longer and with more force than any other cadet there. I’ll give it everything I have.”

  After she’d released a stuttered sigh, Matilda’s voice broke when she said, “I know you will. I know.”

  Chapter 16

  The early morning streets were empty, and Hugh’s nose and cheeks were already numb from exposure to the cold air. As he ran, his thoughts cycled, returning to the most powerful memory of all: Elizabeth and her bloody face. No matter how many times he relived the memory, the one thing he couldn’t get away from was that he could have saved her. Had he been braver, she’d still be alive, regardless of what Ranger and Lance had done. Had he not been wallowing in the loss of his love, he could have made sure Max and Olga’s weapons were fine so Max could have gone to the trials like he’d dreamed of doing. Two people’s lives had already been ruined because of his inaction; he had to make sure the same didn’t happen to his brother.

  It was still dark from the sun buried behind the horizon, but Hugh didn’t need to see all that well because he knew exactly where he’d be. In just over three weeks, he’d already learned his patterns. And now, for once, he’d make sure he acted accordingly.

  When Hugh rounded the next corner, his heart rate quickened to see him standing there. The long and skinny silhouette of Lance. And he stood alone. The boy would no doubt be busy on an apprenticeship in the tailoring district during the day, but he still came out at night. Maybe he couldn’t let go of his aspirations to be in the woodwork gangs, to matter to someone, to rule others even though he had nothing to offer anyone. Too stupid to lead, too old to have freedom of movement, he could be a liaison between districts and nothing else.

  As he closed down on the boy, Hugh heard the memory of Elizabeth’s scream from when she turned. A tight clench of his jaw, he sped up towards the lanky streak of piss.

  Because Hugh made no effort to hide his approach, his steps slamming against the cobblestones, Lance looked up at him when they were still separated by at least thirty feet of shadowed alleyway. The tall boy snorted a laugh. “What are you doing here?”

  Twenty feet between them, Lance stepped away from the wall, his elbows moving away from his sides, his fists balled. Maybe a few months ago, the boy might have stood a chance, but the Hugh that would have yielded to him had been left behind with the corpse of his love and Max’s hope of being a protector.

  Ten feet between them. The deep cut in the kid from the woodwork district. Thick blood spewing from the dark red wound. The way he screamed when the knife cut his flesh.

  Five feet.

  A gang of boys stepped through the gap in the wall. Seven or eight of them, they spread out behind Lance.

  “Not so sure of yourself now, are you, boy?” Lance and the gang around him laughed. They laughed like Lance and Ranger had. “What? You think we were just intimidating James for fun?”

  “Don’t use his name, you scumbag.”

  “Although, we do have plans for Jimmy, but this was about getting you here. We laid the bait and you’ve gobbled it up. Remember when you were smart? You’d have seen this set-up from a mile off.”

  “I don’t care how many of you there are.”

  The shuffling of steps behind him, Hugh turned around to see another seven or eight boys.

  “You still don’t care?” Lance said.

  The scream. Blood on her face. Her changing into a diseased. Ranger and Lance’s laugh. Lance’s laugh. He’d heard it too many times already. No time for talking, Hugh turned one hundred and eighty degrees and charged those closing in from behind.

  Hugh released a shrill caw, avian in its hellish staccato. The boys froze long enough for him to reach the one at the front. He crashed into him with his balled fist, a wet crunch where knuckles met cartilage.

  The boy let out a cry and held his nose as he went down.

  Two closed in on Hugh from either side. Olga had taught him plenty, the main thing being that fighting had just one rule: to win. Fair fights were officiated and held in rings. Do whatever it took in the street.

  The muscles in Hugh’s legs bulged with coiled power. He kicked one of the boys in the nuts. The force of it lifted the kid from the ground, dropping him a second later. The next one had stepped close enough for him to punch him on his right cheek, snapping the kid’s head to one side with a loud clop. He folded like his two friends before him.

  Three down, Hugh charged the remaining four, meeting the next one with a flying kick to his chest. These kids had relied on numbers to intimidate for too long. They knew nothing about fighting.

  The last three ran, and as he watched them away, Hugh panted ragged breaths. His fists still clenched, he turned to face the kids from the woodwork district—except they weren’t there.

  Lance raised his hands, showing Hugh his palms by way of submission. “Look, man, it wasn’t my idea.”

  Hugh walked towards him. “You were the one who told James what you’d do to him. You were the one who hurt Elizabeth. You were Ranger’s lapdog.”

  “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “And where is he now? Although he can move through the districts, I bet you haven’t heard from him, have you?” The images of the diseased. Of Elizabeth. Of the wound he cut into the boy in woodwork. They all smashed through his mind, each one making him flinch and nearly derailing his thoughts, but his purpose was too strong to be sidetracked. “I’m going to the trials tomorrow. I need to ensure nothing happens to James.”

  “It won’t, I promise.”

  “And you think your promise is worth something to me?”

  “I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  “I know you will.” Just a few feet separated them, Hugh continuing to close him down. “You want to know how I know that?”

  Lance didn’t reply, stepping back as Hugh came forward.

  “Because I’m going to make sure of it. I’m going to give you a taste of the consequences should anything happen to him. You’ve pushed people around for too long. The entire district needs to see you for the spineless arsehole you are.”

  The glint of Lance’s blade caught the light. It gave Hugh enough of a warning and he jumped back, Lance swiping air with his attack. Before he had a chance to go for him a second time, Hugh kicked the back of Lance’s hand and watched his weapon fall to the cobblestones.

  Dark red blood. Ranger’s face. Hugh charged, knocking Lance to the ground with one punch. As he fell, Hugh followed him down, landing over him. “You pushed me and pushed me!” He slammed his forearm against Lance’s nose and felt it burst beneath his blow.

  “You killed her!” He smashed him again.

  “The only thing stopping me from killing you right now is I need someone to dedicate the next five months to looking after James. When I come back, I’ll decide if you’ve done a
good enough job.” After he’d driven another blow against his face, Hugh watched Lance’s lazy eyes roll back in his head.

  Hugh slapped Lance so hard it stung his palm. It did the job, bringing the boy’s consciousness back. “Tell me James will be protected.”

  Before Lance could say anything, Hugh punched him again. “Say it.”

  It looked like it took him a great effort to get his words out, his mouth filled with blood, his nose flattened. “He’ll be—”

  Hugh punched him again, grabbed his shirt by the lapels, and lifted him from the ground before slamming him down. “Say it.”

  Lance cried and shook, his words muffled, blood spraying from his mouth. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.”

  Hugh punched him again. “This is only the beginning for you.” Another punch, his right fist stinging from the assault he rained down on the boy. “I’m going to watch you for the rest of your life. If you ever fall in love with someone, I’ll kill them. You understand me?”

  Although Lance looked like he wanted to reply, Hugh drove another forearm across his face. Panting, he got to his feet and repeated, “I’ll kill them,” while driving a hard kick into Lance’s stomach. “I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them!” He delivered each threat with another blow, Lance gasping as he lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood. He saw Elizabeth in his mind. Her twitching death. Her changing into one of the diseased.

  While yelling, Hugh delivered one final kick, driving the laces of his boots into Lance’s face.

  Lance fell limp.

  After wiping his tears away, Hugh stood over the unconscious form of his tormentor and whispered, “I’ll kill them,” before turning his back on the boy and walking away. In a few hours’ time, he’d be starting the trials. He’d be sharing a dorm with Ranger. What he’d just done to Lance was merely practice.

  Chapter 17

  “Only six competitors this year!” Sarge yelled through his loud hailer, the metal cone pressed to his lips. The crowd of hundreds were silent, hanging on his every word. He nodded in Spike’s direction before adding, “We nearly had just five.”