by Casey, Ryan
Trent wasn’t here to negotiate with him.
He wasn’t here to tell him a thing.
Trent was here to kill him.
Mike shifted back a little on the stool. He was beginning to regret his decision making. If he’d waited by the door, he could’ve attacked Trent before he had a chance to do anything about it.
But he’d chosen to go back to the stool. And now he had to deal with the decision he’d made.
Trent walked towards Mike. The knife, dripping with blood. It made Mike wonder whether Vincent had sent him here. Sent him to get the dirty work done in the dead of night.
But… no. The fact that the knife was dripping blood.
And the look on Trent’s face.
Something different was afoot here.
“What is this, anyway?” Mike said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “My execution?”
Trent grunted. “You can call it whatever you want. Things are changing here. It’s already begun. And there isn’t a thing you can do about it anymore, Mike. So better just accept what’s coming your way.”
Mike tensed a little at that. It’s already begun. What was he talking about? Was this what Mike had been fearing all along? Was this where Vincent’s blind, slow walk into hell had finally reached its end-point?
He reached out for the pole behind him. Tried to pull at some of the metal so at least he’d have something in his hands; something to defend himself with.
But there was nothing coming loose.
Trent stopped in front of him. The sweat was pouring off him, and his breath stank. There was another stench about him, too. The stench of dried blood. The stench of death.
And Mike knew it wasn’t just impending death he could smell.
“Whatever you’re doing,” Mike said. “Whatever you think you’re achieving. You’re wrong. You know that. Right?”
Trent narrowed his eyes in the dim light. Smirked. “Says the man chained to the pole. The man who’s about to die.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Mike said.
Trent frowned. “What—”
Mike didn’t even hesitate.
He threw himself up and charged into Trent as hard as he could.
Trent fell down. Tumbled back onto the ground, clearly surprised by Mike’s sudden movement.
And Mike wanted to stay here. To make sure Trent didn’t get away.
But more than anything right now, he wanted to get away. He wanted to escape.
He had to take his opportunity.
He had to make it count.
He threw himself towards that open door. Ran as quickly as he could. His footing was wobbly. The adrenaline was making his body shaky.
But he had an opportunity.
He had a—
He felt something.
A hand clutch at his ankle.
And then before he knew it, he was falling over, face first, onto the floor.
He hit the floor with a crack for a second time. Tasted blood again.
But he didn’t have time to roll over. To mope.
He started to spin around.
That’s when Trent appeared above him.
He grabbed his hair. Smacked his head against the floor.
Then again.
And again.
And as Mike started to get dizzier, as his vision started to blur, he wondered if this was it. If this was the moment where he really died, once and for all.
But no.
He didn’t lie down.
He didn’t give up.
He let Trent lift his head up once more.
And then when he was within distance, he dug his teeth into Trent’s throat.
The reaction from Trent was delayed. He still went to throw Mike’s head down to the floor.
But in the process, he tore away some of his own skin.
He let go. Yelped. Looked down at Mike as blood dripped from his throat.
Mike looked up at him. Half-smiled. “Bad move.”
“What—”
Mike nutted Trent. Head butted him, square in the face.
And then he staggered to his feet while Trent was stunned, and he wrapped the cuffs around his neck.
He pulled them around Trent’s throat, facing the wall. Pulled them further and further. And as Trent let him drag him along, he stopped at the wall. He pressed his feet up against it. And he tensed his arms even harder. Dragged the cuffs further and further and further around his throat, cutting off his air supply, and all the while Trent struggled, stabbed at the air, swung blindly, desperately, repeatedly.
And Mike wanted to stop. He wanted to give up. He was growing tired. His muscles were growing strained.
But he kept on going.
Sweat dripping down his forehead.
Arms shaking.
Trent growing weaker, weaker, weaker…
It was when Trent stopped swinging the knife that Mike knew the fear was finally setting in. Because he was bluffing. He was hoping Mike would stop tightening. He was hoping he’d let go and give him another opportunity. Mike knew that’s how it worked. He’d strangled people before, after all.
And after a few seconds, his thoughts were confirmed.
Wildly swinging.
Thrusting.
Shaking and jolting.
And then finally a gasp.
A splutter.
A deafening throaty groan.
And this time, the knife dropped from Trent’s hand.
This time, Trent’s body went still.
Still in a way that couldn’t be faked.
Still in a way like the power had gone out.
For good.
He dropped down, then. Took a few breaths as blood poured from his head. He searched Trent’s frozen body as well as he could until he found the keys to his cuffs. Then, he unlocked himself out of them, and stood up.
He looked down at Trent. Looked at his wide eyes. Looked at his bloodshot eyeballs, blood vessels burst and covering up the white. Saliva drooling down his chin.
“I’m sorry for that,” Mike said. “But you asked for it.”
He reached down. Picked up Trent’s knife. Which as he lifted it… he realised was his knife all along.
Then he turned to the door.
It was time to get out of here.
It was time to find out what was going on here, once and for all.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kelsie saw the shock and the surprise on Romesh’s face, and for a second, she felt hopeful that there was a way out of this mess after all.
Sarah was turned around. She looked shocked, too. Shocked that Romesh was here at all, Siobhan by his side. Shocked that he’d had to see her in this way.
Because one thing was for sure.
The mask was off, now.
No matter how much Sarah insisted she was doing whatever she was doing for the greater good, she was on the verge of killing a kid.
And if Kelsie knew Romesh like she thought she knew him, there was no chance he was involved in this too.
“Sarah?” Romesh said. That delayed reaction to his face. That surprise building up. But the more time passed, the more the dark realisation began to grow.
And Kelsie could see the emotion shifting on Sarah’s face, too. She could see the way she was trying to figure out what to say. Trying to figure out how to spin this so things worked in her favour.
But in the end, she just sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see this.”
Romesh’s eyes widened some more. He looked at Siobhan, then at Kelsie, then back at Sarah. “I knew it. I… I knew something was off.”
“You don’t know a thing, Romesh.”
“I trusted you. I… I loved you. And you did this. All this time, and you did this.”
Sarah sighed again. Brushed back her hair. She looked like she was tearing up, too. “Don’t think this is easy for me, either.”
“All this time, and you’ve been working for him, haven’t you? All these things that happened�
�� I was right. Mike’s innocent. He hasn’t done a thing.”
“He might not have done any of the things he’s been accused of,” Sarah said. “But if there’s one thing he’s not, it’s innocent.”
“Tom,” Romesh said, his voice shaking. “Please. Please don’t say…”
He didn’t have to finish. He was figuring things out at his own pace.
“And the baby,” Romesh said, tears building in his eyes. “The baby. That’s… that’s not true either, is it?”
Sarah didn’t answer. She just looked back at Romesh, a look of sympathy in her eyes.
And all the while, it looked like the realisation and the depth of the reality was building with Siobhan, too.
Romesh took in a deep breath, then. Like he was rationalising. Pulling himself together. “You’re going to lower that knife. You’re going to come with me to Vincent, and you’re going to explain it. If you have an ounce of respect for me, you’re going to explain everything.”
“It’s too late for Vincent,” Sarah said.
Romesh frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
In the distance, right on cue, Kelsie heard a shout. A series of cries.
Shivers spread up her arms.
The way Sarah had said that about Vincent.
What did she mean?
Sarah took a few steps towards Romesh, then, leaving Kelsie on her knees. She walked towards him slowly, her knife lowered.
“Romesh, I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. But Kelsie here… she knows too much. She’s the kind of girl who won’t settle. Who won’t rest.”
“So, you’re—you’re killing her? That’s your solution?”
“We’re working towards something greater,” Sarah said. “This place, it’s been polluted. Polluted with new arrivals. And they’re going to poison this place. They’re going to bring it down. We need to start again. Start afresh. We need to—”
“The new arrivals aren’t the poison,” Romesh said, eye twitching away. “People like you are the poison.”
Kelsie saw the tear trickle down his cheek. And she felt so bad for him. Finding out who Sarah really was after spending all this time with her. Finding out what she was capable of. It must’ve been tough. Impossible to take.
But he needed to wake up.
He needed to see what she was, and he needed to see it fast.
“I know you don’t like what I stand for,” Sarah said, edging closer towards Romesh. “I… I know you’ll hate me for what I’ve done. For the lies I’ve told. But Romesh. You need to just hear me out. You—you know me. I’m not different. This is just another part of who I am. I haven’t changed. I’m still the woman you love. And I still love you. I love you so much.”
Kelsie saw Romesh’s gaze shifting, then. She saw him look at the floor, wipe away his tears, then look back up at Sarah. “I don’t know you.”
“You do,” Sarah said, getting closer. “You know who I am. You know exactly who I am.”
But as she got closer, Kelsie saw something.
The way her hand was spinning that knife around.
The way she was tightening her grip on it.
Like she was getting ready to use it.
On Romesh.
She wanted to warn him.
She wanted to tell him to watch out.
But she knew she needed to do this herself.
“I still love you,” Sarah said. “We can—we can still have a child. We can make it work. It’s what I’ve always wanted. Come here. Please. Just—just hold me. Please.”
Kelsie stood up.
She rushed over to that rucksack of syringes.
Grabbed three of them in her hand.
Sarah turned around. Looked at her, right at the last second.
But it was already too late for her.
Kelsie threw herself at Sarah.
Stabbed those needles into her throat.
Deep into her throat.
Sarah screamed out in pain, then.
Fell back to the floor.
And she cracked her head on the coffee table in the process.
Kelsie stepped back, then. She stepped back as she watched Sarah try to stand back up, blood pooling down her head.
She watched as she twitched. As she looked up at her with shock, with surprise, with fear.
And as she looked up at Romesh.
Looked up at him with loving eyes.
With scared eyes.
“Please,” she spluttered, tears and blood rolling down her cheeks. “Please, Romesh. Hold—hold me. Hold me. Please.”
But Romesh didn’t walk over to her.
None of them walked over to her.
They all just watched as she bled out.
As she cried.
They all just watched as her consciousness faded, knife loosening in her grip.
They all just watched as she died.
It was only when she was dead that Romesh went over to her.
That he stroked her hair out of her face.
Whispered something to her.
Kissed her.
And then he closed her eyes and walked away from her.
He looked at Kelsie. At Siobhan.
Devastation on his face.
“It’s time we got out of here,” he said. “It’s—it’s time we figured out what the hell’s going on out there.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Mike stepped out into the dark night of the cellar, he knew something had changed right away.
He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Not exactly. Just that something in the air had changed. The way Trent had been the one to come down to the cellar. The way he’d been there to kill him.
And the way he’d insisted that “things were changing.”
Mike didn’t know what that meant. Not exactly.
But he knew that the most important thing to him right now was getting to Alison, Kelsie, and the rest of his people.
Then once they were together… only then could they begin to plan the next step.
He rushed through the darkened grounds. Everywhere was so silent, so quiet. There wasn’t a glimmer of movement anywhere. And he wondered whether he was just being paranoid. After all, it certainly seemed like the hospital was very much asleep.
But Mike still felt cautious about all of this.
He’d been locked away, and he knew it was as a result of some kind of conspiracy.
He needed to watch his step.
He ran further through the grounds. Made a break for the rear entrance of the hospital, which he could sneak in via. He didn’t know what time it was exactly, only that it felt like early hours.
The hospital slept, but something rotten was awake.
He went to turn into the rear entrance of the hospital when he saw movement up ahead.
There were two people. Two people in balaclavas. Muttering to one another as they rushed along.
Blood on their hands.
Mike stepped aside. He knew he couldn’t risk running into them, not while he wasn’t sure exactly what was going on.
He turned back. Made his way away from the hospital. He had to lie low right now. Wait for these people to pass.
He ran into an alleyway between two of the older buildings. Made his way down it. Eventually, he reached an area where there were steps, leading down to some kind of cellar.
When he got there, he crouched.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the movement below.
He looked down. Lifted his knife. Half-expected someone to jump out at him.
But then he stopped.
Frowned.
Because this wasn’t someone who was going to jump out at him.
It was someone lying at the bottom of the steps.
And Mike thought he recognised who it was.
He started to walk down the steps, slowly. He felt a sense of dread building inside. Because he thought he knew who this was.
And as he got closer and closer, his sus
picions felt like they were being confirmed.
When he got to the bottom of the steps, his worst fears came true.
Vincent was lying on the ground. He’d been stabbed. Repeatedly, by the looks of things.
He was bleeding out heavily onto the ground.
And he was still alive.
“Vincent,” Mike said. “What—”
“Sorry,” Vincent said, lifting a shaky hand up, grabbing Mike’s.
“You don’t… you don’t have anything to apologise for—”
“Should’ve… should’ve trusted you. You were right. You were… you were right.”
He tightened his grip on Mike’s hand. And Mike felt sadness as he held his hand. Because he knew there was no reassuring Vincent he was going to be okay. He knew there was no getting him out of this mess.
And after all Vincent had done for him. After the way he’d saved him. Raised him as a child of this perfect new world.
He knew Vincent had his flaws.
But he knew he always had the best interests of this place at heart. Always.
“Stay with me,” Vincent said. “Please. Please.”
Mike tightened his grip even more. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Graham,” Vincent said. “He—he has people. People… people who follow him. He’s going to—to turn this place into something else. He’s going to—”
“He’s not going to do a thing like that,” Mike said, leaning in closer to Vincent. “Because you’re the leader of this place. And… and that doesn’t stop with you. You have a legacy. And it’ll live on. If it’s the last damned thing I do, I’ll make sure of that. You understand? You raised this place, Vincent. You brought us into this world. I won’t let you die in vain. I promise.”
Vincent smiled, then. He looked up into Mike’s eyes, tears glistening in the moonlight, and his face beamed. “You should… you should be the one.”
Mike felt the tension in his body. “I’m not sure that’s—”
“You’re… you’re a leader. A better leader. You understand the balance. Better than me. You… You should lead.”
And Mike didn’t feel comfortable about that. He didn’t feel ready to accept what Vincent was saying.
But all the while, he wanted to grant Vincent’s wishes.
So he nodded.
“I’ll do whatever I can to honour you,” he said. “This place will rise again.”
