by Casey, Ryan
And regretted being too chickenshit to go into that house and bury them like they deserved.
Like they’d had to do for his brother, Kyle.
And like they’d have done for him in a heartbeat, as goddamned awful as it would’ve been for them.
He looked across the street and thought of his journey so far. He’d been searching for Jane for a full day now, with no trace of her. It was four days since she’d gone missing. She could be anywhere. Absolutely anywhere.
And yet he couldn’t walk away from her. He couldn’t give up on her.
But why was that?
Was it because deep down, he knew he wasn’t going to find her?
He knew she was already out of his hands, and it made him feel better—less guilty—if he could at least focus on finding her; at least tell himself he was searching for someone, doing a good deed, when in fact the one thing he feared more than anything in life was the finding itself.
Because he wasn’t cut out to be with anyone.
He was cut out to be on his own.
That’s just how it was now.
But he couldn’t stop thinking of Eddie and Kelly.
Their baby. That beautiful moment he’d walked in on.
He didn’t know how things were with Eddie and Kelly. He knew he thought the world of her when they’d last been together. Kelly… she was different. Complex. Wasn’t sure what she wanted entirely. Noah wondered if she’d ever been really happy, in all truth.
But he remembered the look in Eddie’s eyes when he’d seen him. That momentary delight that his best mate was back. That all things in the past were forgotten. That they were meant to be best mates. That they were meant to be together in some kind of weird, messed up way.
And then the look of sadness in Eddie’s eyes he’d sworn he’d seen when he’d looked back up at that window as he walked away.
Was it in his head? Was it really a look of longing? Like he wanted his best mate back, too?
Noah shook his head. Put the flask away. It was getting dark. He’d crack on searching some more, and then he’d find somewhere to rest.
And then he’d search again tomorrow.
He’d keep on looking.
Because it’s all he could do.
It was on him. And it was his responsibility to…
He stopped.
Looked back down the street. Back in the direction he’d come from. He’d walked a good few hours. But if he headed back now, he could make it back there.
And then he could join his friends.
Join Sunil as they headed to this place, wherever it was.
He could be with them.
Together with them.
He tightened his fists. Told himself he needed to find Jane. He couldn’t just let her go.
But then that rival force pulled at him.
Jane was already gone.
He’d done all he could to find her, but she was already gone.
And he didn’t want to be alone.
That was just his fear talking.
Life wasn’t about avoidance.
It was about acceptance.
And that’s what he needed to do.
He looked around, down the road. Wanted to keep going. Wanted to keep searching.
And then he felt a weight in the pit of his stomach.
A weight that told him all he needed to know.
He reached into his pocket. Pulled out that necklace.
“I’m sorry, Jane. I tried. I really tried.”
And then he turned around to head back to Eddie, Kelly, and Sunil.
That’s when he saw them.
Three people standing in the middle of the road.
Staring right at him.
Watching.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was on the seventh morning that Finn went missing—and that same morning that everything changed in Zelda’s life, all over again.
She woke up early, like usual. Got up as the sun rose. She was still in that same detached home they’d spent a dreamy, hazy, bizarre last few days in. Kind of starting to feel like a home, in all truth. She was beginning to feel settled. Adapted to this place. Settled, dare she say it.
And that felt weird. It felt unnatural. It felt wrong.
Because Finn was a big part of how settled she felt, too.
She went downstairs and outside. Gathered some veg from the patch out back. Another sunny day. Cool breeze. The sound of birds singing above. The smell of warmth in the air like another warm day was progressing.
And as she stood there and looked at the veg patch at the bottom of the garden and the greenhouse, and she pictured herself here in a couple of months. Still here. Surviving. The crops higher. Her own stamp on this place.
Barney and Finn here with her. By her side. Drinking lemonade in the garden.
The childhood she’d never had.
The family she’d never even known she’d wanted.
Longing for it. For that love. For that warmth. For that acceptance.
She picked a few apples from the tree at the bottom. Juiced them, then put them in the icebox ready for when Finn got up. And then she headed to that book of cryptic crosswords. Worked through one each morning. Usually took her an hour before Finn got up.
But today was different. Today, she finished it, and Finn was still nowhere to be seen. She figured he was just lying in. They’d had a busy night last night, setting up the veranda at the back of the house, creating a rain catcher for a constant supply of water, especially during these spring months.
She started on another cryptic crossword. Got lost in it.
It was only when she finished that crossword and realised Finn still hadn’t come downstairs that she realised something was wrong.
She rushed out of the kitchen. Headed upstairs. Walked up the creaky steps, stood outside his bedroom door. She didn’t want to go in there. Almost didn’t want to find any scene of death or tragedy. ’Cause she’d allowed herself to get attached. Damn her, she’d fucked right up and allowed herself to get attached, and that was dangerous.
She tapped on the door. “Finn?”
No response.
She pushed the door open. Not wanting to look behind it. Not wanting to see in there.
What she found was chilling.
There was no sign of Finn.
But his bed had been made.
It wasn’t like he’d left in a struggle.
It was like he’d just… left.
She looked around the room. Checked all the cupboards and under the bed to see if he was hiding.
Then the bathroom, and then the lounge, and even the shed outside, just to be sure.
And then she searched it all over again, Barney by her side every step of the way until an utterly horrifying thought crossed her mind.
He’d left her.
He’d walked away.
Or he’d been taken.
She stepped out the front of the house. Rushed to the end of the pathway. Looked left. Right. No sign. No sign at all.
And she was quite a reserved person, so she felt mightily uncomfortable when she finally covered her mouth and shouted out his name.
“Finn!”
No response.
Nothing but an echo.
She stood there. Uncertain. Lost. She’d always been so sure of herself. She’d always been so sure of what she wanted. And now, it felt like that was gone. Felt like it was lost. Like she’d lost herself entirely.
All because of a child.
She stood at a fork in the road. Fear filling her body. Wanting to step away. Wanting to walk away from all of this.
Because she could just keep going. The kid. He wasn’t her problem. She’d lived an illusion. A fantasy.
Happiness and connection didn’t come for girls like Sarah. Oh no.
Happiness and connection were for proper girls, darling. Loveable girls.
“No,” she muttered under her breath.
She turned. Rushed back down her garden patio. He
aded inside. Gathered her supplies in a rucksack.
And then she stopped right by the door.
The picture.
The picture he’d drawn her.
Her. Him. Barney. All sitting outside a house. All smiling.
Her holding his hand.
Happy.
And someone else in the background, too. A neighbour, by the looks of things. Long, ginger hair. A smile on his face. A few smudged, rubbed out words beside him, hard to make out.
She stuffed that picture into her rucksack and tried not to let the tears fill her eyes.
And then she walked onto the street.
She walked all morning and all afternoon, but with no sign of Finn.
She had no idea whether she was heading in the right direction. She figured if she headed in this direction far enough and looked for any trace of life, she could turn back on herself and head the other way. It was a long shot, but it was something.
She kept going until it went dark. And then she stopped. Camped. Slept a little while, then woke up and headed back the way she’d come from. Disoriented. Tired. Uncertain.
But driven.
Focused on one thing.
Finding that boy.
Because that boy had helped her find herself.
She walked past the house. Checked inside to see if he’d come back. ’Cause maybe he had. Maybe he’d just gone to stretch his legs and returned home.
But there was still no sign.
“Finn!”
She kept walking. Another day. Another night. And she knew where to, now.
To the camp.
To where she’d found Finn in the first place.
It took another day and night to get there.
But when she did, she stopped.
The flies still buzzed around his parents. The stench was awful now. They’d been bitten and chewed at by the dogs.
Everything was quiet. Everything was in order.
She took a few steps towards that campfire when she heard crying behind the caravan.
She froze.
The hairs on her arms stood on end.
Finn?
She lifted her sword. Edged around the side of that caravan. But she didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to fret. It was Finn. He’d come back here. She didn’t know why. Maybe he’d been kidnapped and escaped, and this was the only place in common he could think of.
But he was here.
Everything was going to be okay.
She stepped around the front of the caravan, lowering her sword as not to scare him.
“Finn…”
And then she stopped.
A little boy crouched in front of her.
“Please,” the boy said, pointing past the caravan, over towards the bodies around the fire.
The bodies of Finn’s parents.
“Please,” he said. “My parents. They—they killed my parents. You have to help me. Please.”
And at that moment, Zelda could only mutter one thing.
“What the fuck?”
Because this little boy was ginger, and he wore glasses.
This little boy wasn’t Finn.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“State your business here, buddy.”
Noah held his ground. His heart raced. He gripped on to the hammer in his hand. He wanted them to see it. Wanted them to know he wasn’t the kind of guy who gave in without a fight. But then, were there any of those kinds of guys left anymore? All of them left were fighters. They had to be, to make it this far anyway.
There were two blokes and a woman opposite. A black guy, quite short, probably no taller than about five-eight, but well-built and solid. An older woman, with grey streaks through her dark hair, probably in her fifties. Another guy, too. Dark hair. Older fella. Looked like a pensioner. Had this big smile across his face, hard to believe he’d actually made it this far looking so friendly and so… well, frail.
“State my business?” Noah said, looking at the black guy. “Is a man not allowed to walk down the street anymore?”
“You know what I’m talking about. Some real unsavoury types about. How do we know you ain’t one of ’em?”
“And how do I know you aren’t, either?”
The black man smiled. Tilted his head. “Fair point.”
This silent impasse went on. And Noah wondered whether they could be the people. There were three of them who broke in and took Jane, he was sure. He thought they were all men. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe one of them could’ve been a woman. He wasn’t sure.
Only that it was weird to see anyone at all out here anymore, and he couldn’t trust them for a damned moment.
“Look,” the older, smiley guy said. “We don’t want any trouble here—”
“Mick,” the woman said, rolling her eyes.
“No, Cady. No. And you neither, Freddie. I won’t have any trouble here. The guy don’t look too bad. Bit rough round the edges. But he’s just here mindin’ his own business, right? What problem’s he caused for any of us, eh?”
“You’re always too trusting,” Freddie said. “That’s your problem, man. Always been too damned trusting.”
“And it ain’t ever caused us any problems so far, huh?”
Freddie shook his head, sighed. “Not yet.”
Noah still didn’t trust this group. But it didn’t take a genius to realise they weren’t the ones who’d kidnapped Jane. They were a bunch of survivors. A rare group making their way in this world.
“Try telling that to Hailey,” Freddie said.
Mick’s face suddenly dropped. His eyes went milky.
“Hailey wasn’t nobody’s fault.”
“Fellas,” Cady said. “Come on. Quit this. We’re making a mockery of ourselves in front of this chap.”
But Mick didn’t stop.
His smiley face turned on Freddie.
“Don’t bring Hailey into this, okay? ’Cause what happened to Hailey… that ain’t on any of us. Okay?”
“What happened to Hailey?” Noah asked.
He wasn’t sure why he asked. He didn’t really care. He wanted to get away. Wanted to carry on searching for Jane.
But then he sensed maybe these people knew something.
Maybe… what had happened to Hailey had also happened to Jane.
Freddie looked intently into Noah’s eyes. His muscles were on show, right through his white Under Armour shirt. “Who’s asking?”
“Doesn’t matter who’s asking. In fact… none of it matters. I’ve somewhere I need to be. Someone I need to find. A girl. About twenty. Dark hair. Long. Blue eyes. Slim. If you’ve seen her… well. You probably haven’t seen her. I should be moving.”
He turned. Went to walk away.
“You wanna watch yourself for people hunting women,” Mick said.
Noah turned around. “What?”
“Women hunters,” Mick said. No smile anymore. Eyes wide and terrified. “People hunting ’um any way they can. Big group. Powerful. Dangerous. Trying to create their own personal little hell with the few of us who’re left. But women. It’s the women they want. And the kids, too. They like the kids.”
“Kids?” Noah said. A shiver creeping down his spine. “What’re you talking about?”
Freddie shook his head. “Let’s just leave this guy to walk. If he wants to walk, let him.”
“They kidnap the women and the kids,” Cady said, walking towards Noah. “They pump the women so full of drugs that they get hooked. And they fill the kids with it, too. And with bullshit. Bullshit about what they’ll do if they find them new people. New recruits.”
“I don’t understand,” Noah said.
“They threaten them,” Cady said, standing right opposite Noah now. Younger in the face than he’d first thought. But weathered. Like she’d been through a lot in her life, more than a younger woman should have to. “They tell them to capture women and children and take them back to their little camp. If they do, they’ll let their families live. These kid
s don’t realise their mums are so hooked on junk at this point they don’t want to run. And the dads… well. The dads are either dead or bad enough they’ve joined this group. So yeah. Your friend. If she’s been taken like you said… well I’m sorry, fella, but I’d say she’s too far gone already.”
Noah stood there. Heart racing. Unable to accept this. Unable to believe this fate had fallen on Jane.
“Where are they?” Noah asked.
Freddie puffed out his lips. “You do not wanna go there, sport.”
“Where are they?”
“It’s suicide,” Freddie said. “There’s a lot of ’em. Led by this nutty ginger guy with a fucking huge head. You’ll know the chap when you see him. But if you must know… the docks. Head west from here. Keep going. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“How?”
Freddie smiled. “’Cause they won’t let you get within an inch of it.”
Noah’s tension grew. He saw Cady head back to that trio. Stand beside them. A gap between them. A gulf forming.
“How do you know all this?” Noah asked.
Cady looked at Mick. Then Mick looked at the ground.
“One of our own,” Mick said. “Hailey. She… she escaped these people. Told us all about it. But it was too much for her. Killed herself. She was… she was like my daughter. Reminded me of her. And she killed herself. All ’cause of that bunch.”
Noah tasted bitterness in his mouth. Saw the pain in Mick’s eyes. “I’m sorry about that. And about your daughter.”
“Just be careful, man. Just be careful. No good awaits anyone heading that way.”
Noah stood there. Saw these people together. He wanted to join them. He wanted to help them.
But at the same time, he wanted to find Jane.
“Where are you headed?” Noah asked.
Freddie shrugged. “None of your b—”
“There’s a place,” Noah said. “A house. Number 84 West Avenue, a couple of miles from here. Eddie, Kelly, and Sunil. Kelly’s just had a baby. You tell them Noah sent you. To join you. To head to safety together.”
They all looked on. But Cady in particular.
“How can we trust you?” she asked.
Noah shrugged. “You can’t. But you’ve helped me. Hopefully, I can help you someday.”
He looked at Freddie. At Mick. At Cady again.
