by Casey, Ryan
Vincent smiled again, then, as he continued to bleed out on the cold ground.
His hand tightened around Mike’s, who brushed the hair from his eyes.
“You’re a leader,” Vincent said. “A born leader. And… and I know you’ll bring this place back. I know you’ll…”
He stopped, then.
His hand tightened. Just for a second, it gripped tighter than ever before.
And then it loosened.
Vincent let out a rattling breath.
His eyes closed.
A smile settled on his face.
And in the moonlight, Mike felt Vincent’s hand slip from his.
But the energy from Vincent passed into him.
He took a few deep breaths. Stood up.
He was going to fight for this place.
He was going to keep his promise to Vincent.
No matter what it took.
Chapter Thirty
It was the bang outside that woke Alison up from her sleep.
The bang followed by Arya’s bark.
She was surprised she’d managed to get some sleep at all. It was her first night back in the flat she shared with Mike, and nothing felt right.
But it was the fact she’d drifted off that hit her first. She’d drifted off into muddled, blurry dreams. Dreams where she was running from something, or someone. She didn’t know what, not exactly. Only that she needed to get away.
Then that bang, which woke her. Left her gasping for air.
She looked to her right instinctively. And when she saw that Mike wasn’t there, she wondered for a few seconds. Where was he? Why wasn’t he beside her?
Then she remembered.
Like she was being punched in the gut all over again.
He was in a cell.
Rotting away in the cell while the people behind this place tried to figure out how to punish him for something she was absolutely certain he wasn’t responsible for.
She knew Mike. And if there was one thing she knew well about him, it was that he had morals. Standards.
There was absolutely no way he was responsible for Tom’s death.
That wasn’t Mike.
But as much as she’d tried to stand up for him—as much as she’d tried to protest his innocence—she’d been told that they had to go through the proper procedures.
And now she just had to wait.
She heard the bang again.
Footsteps.
Charging down the corridor.
And something told her right away that they were coming for her. That something had happened, and whoever was charging down the corridor were coming to her room.
She could only assume something had happened.
Something to do with Mike.
But the way they were walking. So fast. And so many of them, by the sounds of things. At least eight. Maybe more.
She felt her body tensing up, and she held her breath.
She got up. Walked over to the door. Peeked through the peephole.
Right on cue, she heard a bang against the door.
Arya went running over. Sniffed at the door. Growled.
“Hey,” Alison whispered. “Come back. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Alison?” a voice said. A voice she didn’t recognise. Not at first.
Not until she saw him through the peephole.
Graham.
He rapped on the door again. “Alison, we know you’re in there. We need you to wake up. It’s Mike.”
She felt dread, right away. Something had happened to Mike. Something serious.
And she almost opened the door.
She almost opened it out of reaction more than anything.
That’s when she saw it.
The blood.
The blood on the shirt Graham was wearing.
And then something else.
The knives.
The knives these people were holding.
Bloodied knives.
And that just convinced Alison even more that something was desperately wrong.
That she needed to get out of this.
She backed away from the door and looked around. Looked for a weapon. Something she could defend herself with.
Because as much as she didn’t know what was going on… she knew that these people were here for her.
And they weren’t being straight with her.
She didn’t trust them.
She went to the back of the room, over to where Mike kept his knives, his weapons.
She saw they weren’t there.
She froze. They must’ve confiscated them when they’d searched the room.
And as she looked around, she realised there were very few things she could use to defend herself with.
Everything she could use had been taken. Confiscated.
She heard the door bang again.
“Alison, we won’t ask again. Open up. This is serious.”
She felt caught, then. Caught between two opposing forces.
Call out and buy some time.
Or keep silent and risk the door being kicked in.
She took a deep breath.
“Graham?” she called.
Silence.
Silence, then a voice.
“Yeah. It’s me. Sorry to wake you. But I really need to talk with you. It’s about Mike.”
“Mike?” Alison said, searching the room, looking around, trying to plan her next step. “What’s—what’s wrong?”
“I’d really rather speak face to face with you about it. It’s serious. Can you open the door?”
Alison looked at the window, then. Then outside it. Down at the two storey drop from it. She knew she could make it. But still, the fall would be risky. Dangerous. She could break her bones. Break her legs. Her neck.
And there was Arya, too.
She couldn’t just leave her here.
“Alison? It’s late, and time is of the essence. Can you open the door for me now, please?”
But Graham’s tone was getting more impatient. More frustrated.
And Alison knew she didn’t have much time to react.
She had to make her decision.
Right now.
“Just… just give me a sec,” she said.
“Okay,” Graham said. “But a sec is all you’ve got.”
She lifted the window. Tried to do it as silently as possible. Tried not to make a sound.
Because she had to get out before they knew what she was doing.
She had to get Arya out of here, too.
She had to get out before—
A bang.
The wind banging one of the doors shut.
“Alison?” Graham called. “What was that?”
She knew he was onto her, then. She knew time was running out.
The door banged some more.
Harder, this time.
“We’re going to have to come in there if you aren’t willing to cooperate.”
The door banged again.
Harder still.
So she shuffled out of the window. Onto the ledge.
She looked down at the drop below.
It was far.
Too far?
She didn’t know.
There was only one way to find out.
She patted Arya up.
Arya climbed. Clambered up onto the window ledge beside her. It pained her to think how this drop might go; whether Arya would be okay.
But it was surely better than the alternative.
The door banged again. It was shaking on its hinges now.
“Alison? Don’t you move a muscle. And don’t you try a thing. You need to stay where you are, and you need to cooperate.”
Alison lowered herself down. Lowered herself and turned so she was gripping onto the window ledge.
Arya sniffed at her hands as she poked out of the window, tilting her head.
“Come on, girl,” Alison said. “It’s okay. It’s… it’s okay.”
She felt t
he fear, the adrenaline, taking over her, as she gripped on in the darkness.
The door banged.
But this time, it was louder.
This time, it was a crash.
Crashing open.
Graham and his people staggering into the room.
“Alison? Where’s she…”
She took a deep breath, then.
And she closed her eyes.
She held on as the footsteps raced across her floor.
She held on as they moved towards the window.
“Alison!”
And then, when she knew there was nothing else to be done, Alison loosened her grip and fell.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mike stepped out of the alleyway, and he knew what he had to do.
Alison. Kelsie. The rest of those closest to him. The first thing he had to do was find them. Make sure they were okay.
And only then could he decide what the best course of action would be.
It was pitch black. The night felt like it had been dragging on forever. But really, it had barely progressed at all.
It just felt like so much had happened since Mike had broken free of that pole.
Trent’s violent end.
Breaking out of the cell.
Then going down that alleyway and finding Vincent lying there.
Holding him as he died.
And at that moment, feeling like everything was changing—for good.
He looked to the left, to the right. The grounds were still quiet. He wondered whether that’s what this was. A Night of the Long Knives style coup where the majority of people here just woke up to find out order had changed, overnight.
And the people who were deemed likely to fight?
Those who looked like they might resist the change?
They were the ones who were being hunted down.
Mike rushed across the alley towards the main hospital entrance again. He had to get in there; he had to get to his room, and he had to find Alison.
But then he knew there was a chance that people were already on to him. That someone had already discovered he’d broken free of his cell.
And if what he suspected was really unfolding here… he knew Alison was in danger.
Big danger.
He rushed further towards the hospital. Looked around the grounds. He didn’t see anyone. Which for a moment filled him with optimism. There was nobody around, so he had a chance. A chance to get inside. A chance to get to Alison.
A chance to figure out the next step with her.
He went to step inside the hospital when he heard something to his right.
A whimper. A yelp of pain.
He didn’t know where it was coming from exactly. Or whether it was even imagined, or real.
But then he heard something inside the hospital, and his attention was diverted.
Footsteps.
Footsteps racing down the steps.
Voices.
Voices that didn’t sound happy.
And a voice that sounded familiar.
Graham’s voice.
He saw movement at the top of the steps, and he moved to one side right away.
He stood there. Held his breath. Waited. If Graham was on his own, he had full confidence that he could take him. But it sounded like there were too many people. Too many to cope with at once.
So the best thing now would be to wait until they stepped back outside.
He thought about where they might be running away from, and what it might mean. And he couldn’t help fearing the worst.
Alison.
They’d gone for Alison.
He had to get to her.
More than ever, he felt the urgency—the need—to get to her.
Now.
He watched as the group of people rushed out of the hospital, ran around to the front of the building, passing him by.
He was right. Graham was there, and he looked like he was leading them.
He saw others, too. Some of them wearing balaclavas. Others in full show.
And none of them surprised him, per se.
It just… caught him out a little.
Seeing such support around Graham.
And knowing that this could full well just be the tip of the iceberg.
He’d been living in a bubble for too long.
And the longer time went on, the more he knew that Vincent’s most prized supporters were being picked off, one by one.
He let them pass by, and for a second, he saw one of them stop.
They looked around. Looked right at him.
And for a moment, he thought they saw him. He thought they spotted him.
And maybe they did.
But then they looked away and kept on running around the front of the hospital, following Graham’s lead.
That’s when Mike knew it was time to move.
He ran. Ran around the side of the entrance to the hospital. Then he ran up the steps, right up towards his floor.
And for a few seconds, he felt a fear. A fear that there could be somebody up there waiting for him. Waiting to ambush him. Waiting to just lure him in and then take him down.
But then he reached his floor, and he stopped.
Especially when he saw that his door was open.
He stood there. Heart racing. He didn’t want to walk forward. He didn’t want to see what was in that room. He didn’t want to find what he feared he was going to.
But then he knew there was no choice. Not really.
It was his duty.
It was his responsibility.
He walked down the corridor, slowly. The closer he got, the more the aversion grew. The more he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do this. He’d lost already. He wasn’t ready to lose again.
He took a deep breath as he reached the door.
Stopped. Braced himself.
And then he stepped around it.
The room was silent. And he didn’t know what to make of that, not initially.
But then when he stepped inside and found no blood—and no trace of Alison—he started to wonder.
He started to hope.
Especially when he saw the open window.
He walked over towards it. Stopped, right beside it.
Then he looked down.
He saw Graham and his people down there, standing there, looking around.
And in the distance, out of their sight, he saw Alison limping along, escaping.
He felt a rush.
She was alive.
She was okay.
But she was in danger.
He went to spin around.
That’s when he saw that he wasn’t alone in this room after all.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alison staggered as fast as she could away from Graham and his people.
Arya limping by her side.
She knew by now that getting away wasn’t going to be easy.
She looked over her shoulder, into the darkness. Her breath frosted before her in the cool of the night. She was down one of the alleyways. And these alleyways always felt suffocating, in a sense. They always felt like they were leading towards some kind of trap—and that was before whatever was happening now had even begun.
She’d always felt claustrophobic in them.
So she did now, especially.
And especially because of the state of her leg.
She’d jumped out of the window. Taken a leap of faith. And the second she’d hit the ground, she’d regretted it. Just for a moment, she thought she’d made the wrong call.
Especially when she felt the pain stretch up her right leg. From the foot to the hip.
Splitting.
But then she’d managed to drag herself back to her feet. She’d managed to stagger away.
And Arya had made the fall, too. She was limping a little, but she didn’t seem to have taken as much of a hit as Alison.
She thought back.
Those people had got further and further d
own the steps. But she was already far enough ahead of them that she could begin to shake them off.
But she knew it wasn’t going to be easy to lay low forever.
She reached the end of the alleyway. Stopped. Peeked out of it, looked from left to right and then left again.
And when she saw that she was clear—totally clear—she stepped out.
She wasn’t running with any direction in mind. Not at first.
But now, the further she went, the more she found herself heading towards somewhere in particular.
Mike’s cell.
She saw it in the distance. It was dark, and she couldn’t see if there was anyone around it or not.
But then the closer she got to it… the more she started to fear the worst.
Because the door to the cell was open.
She stopped again. Looked around. She got the sense that somebody was close, that somebody was watching.
But she had to go off fact. She couldn’t just go of instinct.
She couldn’t see anyone in her immediate line of sight.
Or anyone around her.
So she made her way towards that cell and braced herself for the worst.
When she reached it and looked down inside it, her worst fears were confirmed.
There was somebody lying in there.
Lying by the back wall.
They were clearly dead.
Alison felt a tear roll down her cheek. She took in a shaky breath. She wanted to turn. To run away.
But she knew she owed it to Mike to see, for definite.
To find him.
To be by his side.
So she took in a deep breath and made her way further down the steps.
She reached the foot of the steps. There was a nasty smell in this room, which no doubt came from Mike being trapped in here for days. There was an echoing as she walked around, walked towards him.
And the closer she got to him, the more she wanted to back out.
The more she wanted to get away from here.
The more she wanted to…
She stopped, then.
Because something hit her.
A realisation.
She reached the side of the man lying on the ground, and she saw his face.
That’s when she saw that it wasn’t Mike.
It wasn’t Mike at all.
She looked at the pipe on the wall.
Then at the cuffs on the floor.
And she felt her heart begin to race as the optimism grew.
