by Eden Darry
When Carly paused briefly at Rosemary’s desk, Rosemary’s heart swelled with excitement, anticipation. Then Carly moved on. Rosemary felt her cheeks burn. She remembered gripping the edges of her desk, feeling the grain of the wood. She squeezed hard and willed herself not to cry.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The other children hadn’t wanted to play with Rosemary. She was too tall, too strange, too serious. She got used to being alone, to enjoying her own company or the company of adults, whom she had more in common with anyway. Popularity wasn’t important to her, and it continued to elude her into adulthood.
Until now. When she walked through the hangar, conversation stopped. People wanted to talk to her, to listen to her. They hung on her every word, and God help her, it was addicting. She wondered if this was how Jesus felt.
Rosemary knew she was no Jesus. But scared people, confused people were desperate for guidance. Rosemary’s time had come. Now she was Carly. Bestowing invitations on the chosen few. The old ways had let these people down, and they were looking for a saviour. Someone to lead them out of the darkness.
Of the initial investors, two had survived the vanishing. They waited for her now in a makeshift meeting room. They had demanded to speak with her after the incident with the woman. They didn’t understand their money and influence had disappeared along with the old world. Now, they were just like everyone else.
She sat down.
“We’re concerned, Rosemary.” One of them leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him, gazed down at her over his nose. A feat she admired, considering he was only five feet four inches.
“Very concerned,” the second one echoed, taller but still not important.
Rosemary nodded as she gripped the armrests of her chair.
“We understand things have changed. New rules, et cetera. But really, you can’t just go around murdering anyone who doesn’t agree with you,” the short one said.
“As much as you might want to—would have made shareholder meetings a damn sight easier though,” the taller one said.
The two men shared a laugh. Rosemary ran her palms over the rough material of the armrests, the coarse fabric tickling her skin in an unpleasant way.
“What we’re trying to say,” the short one continued, “is you need to show a bit of restraint. We simply can’t have this sort of thing going on.”
Rosemary looked at each man, so pleased with himself in his handmade suit. The master of his universe. No doubt in his mind he was someone important.
The shorter one had missed a patch on his neck shaving. Right where the collar of his shirt dug in. Five black hairs sprouted proudly.
“You will not summon me again. I am not an unruly employee. I am not your subordinate.” Rosemary stood, and the chair squealed as it scraped on the concrete floor. “I am the truth and the light and I will not be reprimanded by you.”
“Now, hang on just a min—”
“Your way is finished. Over. You led us down this path, and God saw fit to punish us all.”
“Rosemary—”
“You’ll keep quiet. You’ll do as you’re told. God willing you’ll spend the rest of your days begging for forgiveness from the people you sold down the river, and for what? What do you have to show for it? You pathetic little men.”
The short one opened his mouth, closed it again. His face was blotchy, shiny. Rosemary turned, walked out. To Chloe-Claire, as she passed her on the way out, she said, “Don’t you ever let them summon me again.”
* * *
Dani worked quick, Terry would give her that. He’d only been gone ten minutes at most, and she’d already gotten her tent down. Now she was stuffing things in her bag. Her back was to him and she was crouched down.
He was careful to move quietly, didn’t want her legging it, or he’d never get hold of her. Terry’s blood boiled. How dare she. Who did she think she was, thinking she could leave him?
“Going somewhere?”
The look of shock on her face almost made him laugh as she spun round so fast she’d probably given herself whiplash.
“Thought I’d get a start on packing up.”
“Yeah? You sure that’s what you were doing, love?”
He watched her eyes dart to the left seconds before she jumped up and tried to run. She was fast, but Terry wasn’t that slow. And he was bigger, stronger. He reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezed until she gasped.
“Let go of me.”
It was a demand, and Terry didn’t like it. He yanked her towards him, got her in a sort of bear hug, and held her close.
“I’m not a fucking mug. I know exactly what you were up to.” He whispered it in her ear and felt her shudder, try to pull away.
“I was just packing up our stuff.”
“Lying bitch.” Terry pushed her away from him and backhanded her. She fell, sprawled on the ground, and held her cheek. She looked up at him, confusion and fear in her face. Just like Shirl in the early days.
“Is there even a stream down there?” He inclined his head.
Dani nodded. “I wasn’t lying.”
“Maybe not about that.”
“Mr. Pratt—”
“Save it. I’m not interested in any more of your crap. Now I’m going to tie you up, and we’re going to go down to that stream together.” He laughed at the look of horror that crossed her face. “Don’t worry. I’m not after any funny business. Just want to keep you where I can see you.” It wasn’t a total lie. For the moment, he wasn’t interested in anything other than a wash.
Terry pulled her up by the same arm he’d grabbed the first time and dragged her over to her disassembled tent. She was a right bony little thing. Wouldn’t take much to snap her in half.
“Don’t fucking move, or I’ll kick your head in.”
Terry picked up a couple of the guide ropes from Dani’s tent. He pulled her hands behind her back and trussed her up. The second one he tied around her neck and to her hands and left a longer bit to lead her by.
“Giddy-up,” he said and tugged on the guide rope.
“Fuck off.”
Terry smacked her on the back of the head and she stumbled. “That’s not very nice. I’ll let it go this time because of the circumstances, but you say anything like that to me again and I’ll knock you the fuck out.”
He tugged again, then pushed her in the back. “Let’s go. You lead the way.”
She was silent as she led him through the trees, head down and shoulders slumped. She wasn’t stupid. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere.
Terry heard the stream before he saw it. Something about the sound of running water had always appealed to him. He had a little pond in the garden with a small fountain. Sometimes he’d go out there with a paper and listen to it. He always found it peaceful. It calmed him. If he was in one of his black moods, it helped. He wasn’t entirely sure why but thought it might have something to do with the Saturdays he’d spent fishing with his dad.
His dad was always patient with him by the water. He never shouted or got angry, and they would sit for hours, sometimes not saying anything at all.
Terry tied Dani to a tree with the end of the guide rope from her neck. He did it tight. Tight enough that he’d probably have to cut it away when he was ready to leave.
“You might want to avert your eyes now, love. Or not. Up to you.”
Terry stripped and stepped into the water. It only came up to just below his knees, and it was freezing bloody cold. All the same, it was nice. He sat down and dipped his head into the water. The cut on his head stung, but it was good all the same. He looked up to see Dani sitting in the same place with her head down.
For the first time since he woke up to find everyone gone, Terry was finally starting to feel in control. Dani wasn’t going to be a problem now. All he had to do was get her up north, and he’d see his son again. Maybe. If that thing wasn’t lying to him.
He ignored the twinge of guilt in his gut for Dani.
Desperate times called for desperate measures, and he needed to look out for himself in this.
Chapter Forty
Ellery braced herself for the torrent of questions Loveday would shortly unleash. Ellery wondered if it was a writer thing.
“So let me get this right, the girl Dani, who we’re supposed to save or whatever, is going to be stoned to death by the Children of the Ark woman?” Loveday asked.
“If we don’t find her first.”
Loveday and Ellery sat side by side on the edge of the van. It was still early enough that the air smelled fresh and new. Earthy. Ellery loved it.
“Why? I mean, why does Rosemary Decker want to kill her?”
“I don’t know. She’s mental? I wasn’t shown that.”
“And she saw you? She knows you—we—exist. That we’re trying to find Dani as well?”
“Yes. And she’s sending a scouting party to intercept us.”
Ellery could still remember how Rosemary Decker’s eyes looked, full of fury and madness. Arrogance. She didn’t fear them at all. Why would she? It sounded like she had everything set up for a takeover while they were scrambling around trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this yesterday?” Loveday asked.
“I was going to. Inside the van. But, well.” Ellery shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t planned on bringing up the kiss. Wasn’t sure if Loveday would want her to—probably not, if their almost kiss had sent her into such a tailspin.
“We kissed. And then it all just flew out of your mind?”
Ellery was relieved to hear Loveday’s words laced with humour.
“Something like that. Why did you kiss me?” She hadn’t meant to ask that either. Her tongue was a traitorous thing.
“I wanted to.”
Ellery turned to face Loveday. “You know, that’s not actually an answer.”
“It’s the only one I can give you at the moment. I like you, Ellery, but I don’t think—”
Ellery silenced her with another kiss. At first Loveday didn’t respond and Ellery panicked. She started to pull away, but then Loveday put her hand on the back of Ellery’s head and brought her closer. Like last night. Loveday’s lips moved against hers, gently at first and then more forcefully.
Loveday broke the kiss. “As I was saying, I can’t offer you anything close to what you deserve. I don’t think I have it in me any more. And I can’t tell you why I wanted to kiss you. Beyond the obvious, I mean.”
“What’s the obvious?”
“I’m attracted to you. Only, I don’t think it’s enough.”
Ellery was confused and slightly wounded. “You don’t know if you’re attracted to me enough?”
Loveday laughed and bumped her shoulder. “No, I mean I don’t know if attraction is enough. To risk what we have. Things are different now, and we need each other. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to complicate things. Plus, I make bad decisions when it comes to my love life.”
Ellery nodded as her heart sank. Of course, Loveday was right. It didn’t matter that she was the first woman Ellery had been interested in in ages. The timing was bad, and they had a lot to lose if things didn’t work out. They were all they had, and if the dreams were right, they had not too much longer to get to high ground. In the grand scheme of things, a relationship wasn’t worth the risk. It didn’t stop the heavy, disappointed feeling from settling in her belly. For someone who made her living writing romances, Loveday didn’t seem to hold much store by them in her own life.
“Are you okay?” Loveday asked.
“Yeah, of course. You’re right. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize what we have. There’s bigger things for us to worry about.”
Loveday squeezed her hand. “Okay. Good. Shall we go and get our stuff, then?”
They walked in amiable silence back to the superstore. Ellery kept her ears open for the sound of people. She couldn’t shake the look in Rosemary’s eyes. Pure hate. Ellery didn’t doubt that she’d sent a search party out to look for them or what would happen if they caught her and Loveday. Once she got her map back she’d plot a route that didn’t take them along the motorway because surely that’s where the search party would be looking for them.
At least on back roads there were more places to duck out of sight. But what about the girl? Was she on a motorway? After seeing her stoned to death in the dream, there was no way Ellery was leaving her to be picked up by Rosemary Decker’s people.
“You look deep in thought,” Loveday said.
“Sorry, I was just deciding whether we should hit the back roads or stay on the motorways.”
“This search party will probably be on the motorway. But Dani might be too. She probably will be.”
Ellery liked how Loveday just knew. For the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the need to constantly explain herself. They were in sync in a way she’d never experienced before. But she mustn’t think like that. Loveday had made her feelings clear. Just friends. Who sometimes kissed. That wasn’t fucked up at all.
“Now you’re smiling.” Loveday bumped her shoulder.
“Sorry. I was still thinking about what to do.”
“Such a liar.” Loveday laughed.
“What was I thinking about, then? You’re the psychic after all.” Shit, had she gone too far? Was that below the belt?
“Well…”
To Ellery’s relief, Loveday put her hands out as though she held a crystal ball and looked into the space between.
“You were thinking about our kiss.”
“Bit full of yourself.”
Loveday shrugged and grinned. “Am I wrong, though?”
“Which one?” Ellery ignored the question.
“Both of them. I’m a good kisser, and I’ve no doubt I blew your socks off.”
Ellery couldn’t help but laugh. She liked this side of Loveday. “You’re arrogant, but you’re right.”
“It’s not arrogance, it’s confidence.”
“Right.”
“What? I—”
Ellery cut her off with a squeeze to her arm. “We’re here.”
Up ahead was the looming superstore. Still some distance away, it towered over the landscape. A great shiny square box against green fields. Fields that were usually teeming with rabbits. She was struck again by the absence of anything with four legs. The animals seemed to have totally vanished off the face of the earth.
Ellery took a deep breath. She could do this. They weren’t going inside, just to the car park where they’d left their stuff. She could do this.
Chapter Forty-One
They were making even worse time than usual. Terry was convinced Dani was dragging her feet to slow them down. He’d considered untying her hands and putting her rucksack on her back but decided against it. He didn’t want to chance her getting the upper hand and running off.
In the end he’d sorted through their stuff and only kept the essentials—he threw most of her gear away—and now carried it in his own rucksack. It was fucking heavy even though they’d pretty much run out of water and food. He could take out his beers, but they were one of the small pleasures he had left in life.
He tugged hard on the rope around her neck. She made a choking noise and stumbled. Never said a word. Stupid little bitch. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t tried to run.
“This is your own fault.” Terry felt the blackness rise up inside him like a wave. He struggled to control it—he really didn’t want to hurt Dani. For one thing, he needed her alive, and for another, he didn’t want her slowing him down any more than she already was.
Instead, he placated himself by giving another vicious tug on the rope. This time she fell to her knees. She hissed through her teeth but still didn’t speak.
“I said, this is your fault. You shouldn’t have tried to run away.”
She wouldn’t even look at him.
“Get up. Get the fuck up. Stupid bitch.”
Dan
i struggled to her feet and he saw her knees were bloody. It gave him some satisfaction. Appeased that blackness and pushed it back down a little.
Terry dragged her along again, tugging on the rope every now and again to make her stumble and choke. Her neck would probably be red-raw by now. Lucky that devil said she only had to be alive.
In the distance, Terry saw a shape. Big and square. His eyes weren’t great without the glasses he refused to wear, but he thought it might be one of those big supermarkets they had on the edge of towns.
He tugged Dani over to him and gripped the back of her head.
“What’s that?”
“Looks like a superstore.”
“How far?”
“Half a mile?”
“Come on, then.”
He gave a jerk on her rope to get her moving. It was almost like having a dog but not as good company.
“Do you ever fucking say anything?” Terry asked.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Don’t get bloody smart with me.”
“I’m not, Mr. Pratt.”
“You just don’t, I don’t know, ever make any conversation.”
“I’m not a big talker.”
“Not like your old man, then.” Terry snorted. That bloke could talk the hind legs off a donkey.
“Not much, no.”
“You miss him?”
“Yes.”
“It’s like pulling teeth with you. Never mind.”
“I don’t know—”
“Just shut your mouth.”
The black mood had lifted slightly but left him a bit grumpy. The sooner they could stop and he could have a beer, the better.
Terry remembered that along with her other stuff, he’d also dumped her tent. They’d be sharing tonight. That might turn out to be fun. And it would be dark, so he wouldn’t have to look at her miserable face.
The supermarket was closer now. Christ, it was big. Terry hated these bloody places, but it would have some decent food and clean clothes inside. Things were looking up.
* * *
