“How are you holding up?” Bill said.
With his black eye and swollen jaw, it should have been Camden asking that. His words were slurred and difficult to understand with what Camden suspected was a broken jaw. After Quentin reneged on their deal, Bill had taken it badly, resulting in a swift beating.
They’d tied their hands and hurled them over the back of the horses. It’d been all Camden could do to keep the pistol tucked in the waistband of his trousers. Half a dozen times it almost fell loose and would have clattered to the ground, forgotten, as the horses continued on if he hadn’t maintained a tight grip on it.
“I have something,” Camden said.
“What?”
“Tucked in the waistband of my trousers.”
He didn’t need to say more. Bill got that serious look in his eye. “One of your father’s secret hiding places?”
Camden nodded.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to put on an act, pretend like we argued or something, and turn your back to me. After they stop looking at us, I’ll work it free and use it to get us out of here.”
“I didn’t bring it so you could get yourself killed,” Camden said.
“I won’t let you put yourself at risk.”
“Neither will I.”
Camden stared his grandfather down. Did he want to put his hopes in him with his busted jaw and swollen eye? If he wasn’t fast enough and the gang got hold of him, they’d fill him full of holes – and they wouldn’t stop at only him either.
It wasn’t worth taking the risk.
Camden shook his head. “I didn’t tell you I had it so you could take it from me. I’m going to use it. When the time is right.”
“Now is the right time. If they get us beyond those hills, it’ll be nigh on impossible for us to get back.”
“Our hands are tied behind our backs. How do you expect to use the gun if you can’t fire it as well as I can? We need our hands loose before we can use it.”
His grandfather growled with eyes of rage before simmering down to general disappointment. Not in Camden, but himself. “You’re right. I’m just desperate to get away from here. Being a hostage isn’t my forte.”
“I suppose it must be hard for someone with a nickname like Ghost to be a captive. Where does that even come from, anyway?”
In all his years as his grandson, Camden was woefully ignorant of his grandfather’s backstory. The things he’d done in the line of duty, the path he’d taken through life. He knew he’d been in the military at some point, but with his father and him not getting on well, their visits were always cut short and they never got to know him.
All they ever learned was what their father told them, and that was never going to be the most glowing recommendation.
“I’m not proud of a lot of things I’ve done,” Bill said. “But there are some that I am. Helping other people, doing good. But in all honesty, the way I was in the past wasn’t much different to the people here in this gang. Except, I suppose, I always had a streak of good in me, deep down.”
Camden smiled. “You’re not like them anymore.”
His grandfather smiled back. “Not for a very long time. Someone who can take another man’s life… that’s the kind of man that’s dangerous, the kind of man you want to stay away from.”
“I never understood why you and dad didn’t get along.”
“We were too similar. That was the problem. He reminded me of the way I was when I was his age, and I remind him of the way he ought to be. Just like me when I was young, no one could ever tell me what to do.”
“Dad was never a bad man.”
“No. He had you and your sister, and your mother to take care of. That kept him going. That, and his precious survival training.” Bill shook his head. “I always thought he was crazy thinking the world was coming to an end. Yes, I knew governments and our so-called leaders would eventually destroy everything we worked hard to create – they’ve been doing that since forever – but I didn’t think it would get to this point. Just goes to show how much I know, doesn’t it?”
Camden smiled. “I think you and Dad would’ve gotten on better after the EMP attack than you did before it. Funny that, isn’t it?”
Bill’s smile was sad and distant. “It’s not funny. It’s tragic.”
The gang busied themselves with preparing for the long haul to come. Camden continued hacking at his bonds on the rock. If he was going to take them out, he was going to need his hands free to do it.
54
Life was full of such peaks and valleys, Michael thought. He waited a year to be reunited with his friend again, and now that he had, he was afraid of what he would do to another of his brothers. Isaac. He still hadn’t helped them with aiding Quentin’s release, and it was still up in the air as to how he would respond to that fact. Quentin was… different from how he remembered him.
The years hadn’t been kind to the leader. Months locked away at a time in solitary confinement had unleashed the demons he only barely managed to hold in check in the past. And during the truly dark moments of his life, when he really couldn’t hold them at bay by himself, Michael was always there to reinforce that little voice that had always been so much quieter in Quentin’s ear than most people, and together, they could get through to him and sweep away the thoughts and the demons that were simply too dark for him to handle on his own.
But locked away in that cell, with no one but his demons to keep him company, it would tear even the strongest man down, as they bit and clawed and peeled the humanity from his bones.
He saw it in the flickering flames of the fire and wished he hadn’t. He heard it behind the crackling gnaw of his voice at the back of his throat. The demon that had always been there, that had always threatened to take him over, had finally, at some point during the past year, succeeded.
And his anger when he discovered the truth about what Isaac had done – or more accurately not done – would be something truly terrifying to behold.
“Isaac, I need to speak with you,” Michael said.
“What is it?” the youngest member of their gang said.
“Over here.”
Isaac tucked his Bible in his pocket and followed Michael to the edge of the clearing, just as far as the light kissed the darkness and kept it at bay. And then Michael went a little further.
“What is it?” Isaac said.
Standing there, in the darkness, they could peer back upon their little encampment, lit by the light source of the fire and know that none of them could see them standing on the outside.
“You have to leave. Get as far away from here as you can, and maybe, God willing, we’ll never find you. I’ll fake tracks and make up stories about where you went. I’ll tell him you told me about someone in your family in America. I’ll do everything I can, but you have to leave. Now.”
Isaac smiled and spread his arms. “It’s God’s will I’m here.”
“It’s God’s will you should leave.”
Isaac folded his arms. “Now who thinks he knows God’s plan? No. I feel it. I’m right where I should be.”
Michael leaned in close. “He’s going to kill you. Do you understand? Quentin will kill you and he won’t waste bullets doing it.”
“If that’s the Lord’s will, so be it. I will see him in his own house.”
“There is no house! There are no fluffy clouds and harps and whatever else they’ve told you! There’s life and there’s nothing. That’s it.”
Isaac smiled up at him. “I once thought the same way.”
Michael slapped him across the face.
“Please don’t strike me–”
Michael curled his fists in Isaac’s jacket and jacked him off his feet. He hurled him down a shallow incline, out of earshot of the others.
“Fight me!”
“I won’t fight you–”
Smack!
“I said fight me!”
“I can’t fight you. I love y
ou–”
Smack!
Michael opened himself up to that part of him he’d long since shut away, the demon that infiltrated his thoughts from time to time and unleashed it upon Isaac.
“We used to fight all the time!” he said. “We used to wrestle with you.” Smack! “Because you were the smallest, the youngest. You were our little brother!” Smack! “Wake up! He’s going to kill you! Leave. Please leave.”
“Stop,” Isaac held up a blood-flecked hand. “Don’t hit me any more.”
He got to his feet and straightened up his clothes.
And Michael was lost. He fell to his knees.
“I can’t leave,” Isaac said. “I’m here to do the Lord’s will.”
“If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. I’ll do whatever you want. Just run away. Go. I’m begging you.”
He sobbed into Isaac’s jacket and Isaac placed his hand on his head as if blessing him.
“I once felt as you do now,” he said. “I was lost but now I am found. Empty words to me once. Now, they mean everything to me. Because the Lord is everything.”
It didn’t make Michael feel much better.
“I will do my utmost to help you with whatever you request of me,” Isaac said. “But I can’t run away. I’ve done too much running in my life. At some point, you have to stand and fight for what you believe in.”
“You’re going to die. He’s going to kill you. And it’s all my fault. I should have forced you away the first chance I got.”
“I would have found my way back to you.” He helped Michael up onto his feet. “Don’t you see? You’re the reason I came back. I know I couldn’t reach the others. They’re already too far gone, but I know I can reach you.”
“I’m as lost as the others, Isaac. You should know that by now.”
“Don’t you know what you are?” Isaac said. “What you’ve always been? You are our conscience. You knew what was right and wrong and you tried to steer us in the right direction. That’s why we all love you, why you’re the centre of us all. Because you helped lift our burdens. But you don’t have to do it on your own anymore. I’m here, and together we can help change the others. I see the desire for them to want to change. Can’t you?”
No, he couldn’t. The cold hard steel that drove them was still there. It was clear in their voices, in their actions, the way they held themselves. They were as unyielding as ice. But not Michael. He always had a crack in his foundations. From the loving mother he had as a boy, maybe? Or the father who spent at least a little time with him? The others never enjoyed that. It was their differences that distinguished them.
“Isaac.”
The blood fell from Michael’s face as he turned to the speaker. He stepped from the shadows – morphed from them – as if they were his domain.
He was death.
“Quentin,” Isaac said, that same warm smile on his face.
Couldn’t he see the Lord’s light didn’t shine here? That Quentin sucked it up like an enormous black hole that devoured it all?
“I need to speak with you,” Quentin said.
“Of course,” Isaac said. “I’m all yours.”
No. Michael wanted to scream, to shout, to shove Isaac aside so he slipped into an alternate universe, never to be seen again. Safe, somewhere else.
Then Quentin turned to him. “In private, if you don’t mind, Michael.”
No. The voice was smaller this time. A squeak.
Michael flicked his eyes from Quentin to Isaac and back again, his heart hammering a mile a minute.
And he did what he never thought he could ever bring himself to do.
He turned his back on his youngest brother as Quentin rested his hand on Isaac’s shoulder and led him into the darkness.
Into his domain. Into death.
55
Katie was amazed how similarly the two families arranged themselves. They each had a top tracker, and they appeared to be of equal ability. While one searched for clues in one area, the other checked an adjacent section. Not once did they disagree on the direction they ought to take, and if Katie didn’t know any better, she would have said a small nod of respect passed between them.
Both families were in awe of the twins. Every time Preston or Wesley came up with a competing plan of attack, the twins were quick to point out the weaknesses and suggest alternatives. They had no preference one way or the other, only for the best plan.
“Simple is best,” Tanya said. “We’re going to use parts of each family’s plan of attack.”
The twins drew in the dirt with their fingers, rubbing out each other’s drawings and diagrams as they went, making it virtually impossible for anybody to follow.
“Understand?” Tanya said.
Preston and Wesley shared a look. Neither man wanted to admit they didn’t understand.
“I think you should lead the attack,” Preston said.
“I agree,” Wesley said.
“We have far more men and firepower than the gang,” Ronnie said. “But they will be desperate. They’ll open fire and shoot at anyone and anything that moves. More men mean more targets. The good news is, your trackers know this forest better than they ever will. They’ve already taken us via a shortcut, and we’ve cut off some of the chasing time.”
“Preston.” The Thornhill tracker drew up alongside him. “I found them. They’re on a rocky outcrop just to the west of here.”
“Did they see you?” Preston said.
“No.”
Tanya turned to the tracker. “Think carefully. I want you to tell me exactly where they are on that rocky outcrop.”
“Taking a rest by the look of it. They had to take the long way round and their horses will be tired by now. I don’t know how long they’ll stay there though. They started a small fire and looked to be eating from their backpacks.”
Preston glanced at the others. “If we’re going to make a move on them, we ought to do it now.”
The twins and the two families nodded in agreement. In total, they had fifty men. That was versus the six in the Chelsea Smile gang. Still, Katie’s heart was aflutter. The couldn’t fire indiscriminately or else risk hitting the hostages. With how the two families felt about each other, how could they prevent them from taking potshots at the opposite side?
“We have to mix the families,” Katie said.
“What?” Wesley said. “What for?”
“That way, no one on either side will be tempted to open fire on the other, knowing they might hit a member of the rival family.”
Preston squinted. “You’re a very shrewd cat, did you know that?”
“You can blame my grandfather for that.”
Preston grinned and nodded his assent.
Wesley took a little longer to agree, but eventually, he did.
Katie handed her reins to Darryl. He wouldn’t be going anywhere near a gun. That was the best thing for everybody within range.
“Good luck,” he said.
Katie joined the throng of men as they broke into two columns and marched around the rocky outcrop.
Showtime.
56
Michael could barely keep himself still. He sat by the fire, his leg jittering on the spot. Unable to stand it any longer, he stood up and paced. He considered heading out to go find the pair, to talk to them, to convince Quentin not to take Isaac’s life. And then he sat back down again and went through the same routine.
“Will you sit still for a minute?” Jack stripped a piece of meat off the rabbit bone and breathed out the heat into the chilly night air. “You’re making me dizzy.”
Jill balanced a stick on her nose. “There’s nothing we can do about it anyway. What will be, will be. You shouldn’t worry about these things so much. You’ll live longer.”
“You will. Isaac won’t.” Gregory looked at the others for acknowledgement for his tasteless joke.
Jack snorted and shook his head. Jill only tutted.
Their reactions made Mi
chael sick to his stomach. “This is Isaac we’re talking about. Our little brother. If we don’t speak up now and try to save his life, when will we?”
“He made his decision,” Jill said. “You know that as well as anybody. And now he has to live with it.”
Michael looked at the others like he’d never seen them before. How could they be so callous, so cold toward one of their own? Couldn’t they see that if it was Isaac today, it could be any of them tomorrow?
The others are beyond saving, Isaac had said.
He was right. They were like family, and still, they were willing to throw each other to the wolves.
Quentin was the wolf. And they were nothing but lambs to the slaughter.
It’s a funny thing to have your whole world suddenly shift on you. It doesn’t even need to shift that much for it to all to change completely before your eyes. Michael knows what these people were capable of. He knew because he’d always been capable of the same things. But if there was one thing that he could never do, it was harm his brothers or sisters. It was a line he couldn’t cross and it was a shock that the others appeared to find it no difficulty whatsoever.
I have to get my things and get out of here, he thought. I have to leave this place before I’m the next one on the menu.
But he wouldn’t leave. Not yet. Not until he knew Isaac’s fate.
He already knew his fate. He knew what Quentin was doing to him right now as he spoke with the others. What he had allowed to happen. He was as culpable for his actions as if he held the blade himself.
But there was still a chance – as remote as it was – that Quentin had taken pity on the boy.
Even as the thought materialised on his lips, he knew the falseness of the statement. And the shock of it, the absolute certainty he carried in his heart, made him feel sick to his stomach.
Cut Off (Book 3): Cut Loose Page 19
