by A. M. Shine
‘It’s mostly luck,’ he had said, skewering the first. ‘I reckon the birds have to be really starving if they’re going to risk dropping down close to this place.’
When Madeline stepped into the room she stopped abruptly, as though something there had changed in her absence but she couldn’t place what it was. Maybe she had supposed that Daniel’s traps would have failed, that the fire would be floundering, and that the onus would be on her to do what everyone else seemingly could not. Neither Daniel nor Mina spoke. Both held their breath, staring at the fleece-shrouded wraith that edged closer to the flames.
‘Three, Daniel?’ she had said, expressionless.
‘Yes,’ he replied, like a polite employee. ‘And I’ve reset the traps in the same trees.’
There was no more that he could have done. This was the peak of Daniel’s achievements, and still he worried that he hadn’t reached high enough, as though Madeline expected him to touch the stars. He learned at a young age that disappointing people came naturally to him. Some kids had art. Others could keep a ball in the air. Daniel wasn’t allowed to be good at anything, not so long as he lived under his father’s roof. Any exams he passed in school were burnt as tinder. Those that he failed held circular stains where the old man’s whiskey glass pinned them down, keeping them safe like collector’s items. There were no victories, however small or insignificant, and after so many years of unbroken defeats, Daniel came to believing that that’s all he was good for. His father certainly made sure to remind him that he wasn’t good for anything else.
‘Are you confident enough to cook these?’ Madeline asked. ‘Mina, perhaps you can lend a hand?’ she added before Daniel could reply.
‘Of course,’ Mina replied.
‘Good,’ Madeline said, nodding her head. ‘I suggest you start now. We have just over an hour. I’ll make sure that all the locks are working and then we can prepare for dinner. Where’s Ciara?’
‘Just catching some sleep,’ Daniel told her. ‘I’ll wake her when the food is ready.’
Madeline had frowned and left without saying another word. How did she ever keep track of the time? Daniel slotted the spits into place, carefully judging the height, and positioned the birds so that they would cook evenly. When all was done, he sat down in front of the fire and waited, staring at that which made him feel like an adult and an asset, finally.
8
Mina
Mina didn’t interfere. Their dinner was far safer under Daniel’s close supervision. When Mina’s mum was receiving treatment, she wrote all her recipes down in a notebook; simplified and sprinkled with silly messages. They never tasted the same. It may have been her mum’s recipe but it wasn’t her mum’s cooking. Even the pasta alla norma – a dish that a child could throw together – was missing something. That something was Mina’s mum.
‘Time to move,’ Madeline called out. Mina couldn’t believe it had been an hour.
The coop’s bulb hadn’t yet buzzed into being, and so the woodland was still slightly visible through the glass. The shadows had spread like an army of black ants, devouring the last morsels of light. Daniel set their food down on the table as Mina tiptoed towards the window.
‘You won’t see them,’ Madeline said, drawing the door closed. ‘They only come when the light is on. I’ve already told you this.’
Mina knelt, with both hands pressed against the glass. The woodland was darkening quickly, but her eyes were attuned to it. She would see them when they came.
‘Come on,’ she whispered. ‘Where are you?’
In an instant Mina was staring at her reflection. Both palms pressed against those of her mirrored double. She backed away, drawing her hands over her eyes to ward off the light, and shuffled towards the sound of the parrot’s panicked fluttering. She couldn’t tell if its tantrum was brought about by the sudden brightness or by the sight of their next meal. Hopefully, the former would keep secret the latter.
The locks were put in place with surgical precision. Daniel crouched beside Ciara – still entombed under all those layers – and gently nudged the mound until her head emerged, all squinty-eyed and rumple-haired. Ciara’s nostrils tightened as she caught the scent in the air, and she smiled.
‘I caught three,’ he whispered in her ear; Mina heard him, but Madeline was out of earshot, still triple-checking the door’s many chains and bolts.
When the door was secured to her satisfaction, Madeline approached the table. She examined their feast like a finicky head chef. Mina had half-expected a smile from the woman but it never came. Too many winters had frozen all that bitterness in place.
‘No one takes a drink until we have finished dining,’ she said, meeting the eyes of everyone individually. ‘There is precious little water for four of us, and I should imagine that the meal will make us quite thirsty.’
Mina, along with Ciara and Daniel, nodded her understanding. The smell of the food jump-started her stomach. She felt like an obedient Labrador, awaiting permission to devour its dinner.
‘Now then,’ Madeline announced as she squatted by the table, ‘shall we?’
Everyone received their berry and nut portion first, and then the meat was shared out. Mina couldn’t imagine the fallout had Daniel burnt it, but looking at it now – admiring the honeyed colour of its crisped skin and the tender flesh that tore, still slightly steaming, in their hands – it was perfect.
Madeline kept her head down, methodically dissecting every morsel. The others smiled amongst themselves, relishing the moment.
‘It’s just like Christmas,’ Mina said, to which Madeline threw her a look of utter disapproval but passed no remark. Perhaps she was making a conscious effort not to spoil their dinner. Ciara seemed oblivious to the woman’s glower.
‘John loves Christmas,’ she replied. ‘Even the songs, if you can believe that? He starts playing them as early as November.’
Ciara blinked her tears away as best she could. They had come upon her so suddenly – the moment she mentioned her husband’s name. Madeline stared at her indignantly from across the table, her meal potentially ruined by another’s sadness.
‘We should play a game after dinner,’ Mina put in quickly, trying to steer Ciara away from those thoughts.
Madeline’s spindly fingers ceased clawing meat from the bone. Ciara wiped her cheek, and after a few sharp sniffs it seemed that her curiosity had pushed through the crowd of her emotions.
‘Does anyone play cards?’ Mina asked, slapping both hands on the table. ‘I always keep a deck in my bag. You know, just in case.’
‘Just in case of what?’ Madeline said. The sternness of her voice almost made Mina smile.
‘In case I want to play cards, Madeline,’ she replied, acting as though the answer was obvious.
Madeline returned to her food, unimpressed. The others had nearly finished their meals and were picking away at the last berries. The woman had a flair for making them feel ill at ease. She spoke so little – only to dispense orders or criticisms. Her silence was like a sleeping dragon. They had learned to not disturb it. Mina, however, was already rummaging through her bag.
‘So, what do you reckon?’ she asked her, dropping the deck playfully down on the table.
‘A game would be good to keep us awake,’ Madeline replied as she placed a bone down slowly and carefully, aligning it with those already in front of her. Every shred had been gnawed off it.
The light of the coop was stark in contrast to the casino’s intimate, almost ember-like glow. The plush green of the poker table, the edgy silence broken only by the dealer’s gloss and the plastic tap of chips by thoughtful hands. Mina was surprised by how much she missed it.
With the exception of the occasional commissioned piece, the casino provided her main source of income. There was only one in the city. At the weekend it attracted scores of temporary members, eager to gamble for a single night. These were mostly men who had imbibed enough to make gambling a misguided idea. They would melt into the
ir seats like cheap candles, sending towers of chips trailing across the table.
Facial tells were reliable, especially when sired from one drink too many, as was so often the case in the late hours. They weren’t so much letting slip a few clues as they were showing Mina their hand. The eyes alone could give someone’s game away. Some of them blinked too much or too little. Others had an overactive tongue or lips that pouted like a fish when the cards were kind.
‘Do you all know how to play?’ she asked as she slid the cards out of the deck.
‘I do,’ Madeline replied, looking at the other two, assuming that a game as complex as poker was beyond them.
‘I used to play a bit,’ Daniel said, ‘but never for money or anything like that.’
Ciara looked like a sheepish schoolgirl who hadn’t done her homework. If only to deny Madeline the satisfaction of belittling her, Mina explained to them, collectively, how all the different hands worked. A quick refresher course, she had called it, just to make sure that they were all playing the same game.
Mina ripped two pages from her sketchbook and tore them into smaller pieces to use as money. The book was promptly returned to her bag. Mina wasn’t sure why exactly, but she didn’t want anyone, especially Madeline, to see her drawings.
‘I’ll deal,’ Mina said, fixing her posture. ‘Let’s make someone rich.’
Madeline, to her left, discreetly slid her cards into her palm; straight-faced, as always. Daniel, kneeling across from Mina, grabbed his hand as though one of them might steal it. His eyebrows lifted and Mina knew that he liked what he saw. Finally, Ciara, sitting to her right, struggled to peel her cards off the table. Upon inspecting them she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh that made Daniel and Mina smile.
‘Jesus,’ she swore, shaking her head.
‘You’re supposed to keep it a secret.’ Daniel laughed.
‘Oh, shit,’ she replied, holding her hand over her mouth in mock embarrassment. ‘Well, you never know, maybe I’m trying to trick you.’
‘Well, you’re very convincing,’ he said.
‘It’s on you, Madeline,’ Mina announced.
Each of them had to put in one of their makeshift tokens if they wanted to play. Judging by Madeline’s steely gaze and the way she guarded her cards, she wasn’t playing strictly for the fun of it. This didn’t surprise Mina in the least. Everyone looked to Madeline expectantly, waiting for her to commit and in that moment there was quiet, and there was a peace amongst them for what would be the last time.
All heads turned to the glass when they heard the scream; drawn out, tortured, and human. Mina would never forget it.
‘John?’ Ciara screamed.
Everyone looked to her, but no one knew what to say. He was out there, in the darkness. Her husband had come back to her, just as he had promised.
9
Madeline was the first to stand. Her skeleton unfolded in an instant and those spindly arms recoiled out of sight. But the woman’s poise was not one of action. She stood rigid. Even her bones were quiet. This was survival. Mina knew enough of Madeline already to guess what she was thinking: they were only as strong as their weakest link. Madeline stepped back warily, eyeing up Ciara as though she now presented some threat to her. She held all the keys and the door was staying shut.
‘John!’ Ciara called out, hoping perhaps that her husband could hear, and that her voice would soothe his anguish.
She scrambled to her feet, sending cards flying about the floor. It was startling how swiftly – how viciously – everything changed. Mina still had her cards fanned open in her hand. The stolid faces of two queens peeked out from the back. She watched Madeline and Ciara in the mirror, like a televised fight on the big screen.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Madeline said.
‘John’s alive!’ Ciara cried, her tears of joy ousting those of grief.
Mina and Daniel rose to their feet slowly and reluctantly. They stood between Madeline and Ciara, in the divide. However long the three of them had survived before Mina’s arrival, they had done so together, but that was about to change.
‘That door,’ Madeline stated slowly, ‘does not open until the light turns off. Do I make myself clear? Have I not reiterated the rules enough?’
Another horrific cry came from beyond the mirrored pane. There was no telling how close John was to them. Sounds travelled fast and far, and in that concrete cell they rang all the louder. This man who had set out to save them was in untold pain, and yet Madeline’s gaze was unflinching. To her, Ciara’s husband was already dead.
‘You can’t leave him outside!’ Ciara screamed in disbelief, storming towards the door.
The darkness outside and the light within conspired to keep the man’s whereabouts a secret. His voice, strained and constant, seemed to stem from all directions, as though it echoed through the trees. Daniel’s expression replicated Mina’s. They dreaded to imagine what they were doing to him. John was living their worst nightmare.
‘Let me out, Madeline,’ Ciara shouted, standing face to face with the woman. ‘Open that door!’
Mina knew Daniel wanted to support her. Ciara had become more than a friend to him. They shared their tribulations like two siblings born into hardship, gleaning strength from one another. Survival without her was inconceivable to him. And Daniel must have known that if she stepped outside, he would lose her forever.
Was loss now a mandatory part of Mina’s life? She had grown quite fond of Ciara in the short time since they’d met. The only warmth in that room came from her hope and her humanity; strengths that Madeline didn’t seem to understand. Even with her husband out there, alone, racing against the odds to save them, Ciara had welcomed Mina with a smile; like an antidote to the horror, and one that only she could administer. Mina never had a friend like that before.
‘If I open the door,’ Madeline replied calmly, ‘then we’re all dead. You know the rules, Ciara. When the light is on, the door stays closed.’
‘My husband is out there!’ she cried. ‘He nearly made it back to us. We were too quick to close the door. If only we had been keeping watch, we would have seen him. We would have gotten to him.’
That could have been me, Mina thought. Without Madeline’s help she would have shared the same fate.
‘Your husband left four days ago,’ Madeline said, her tall frame towering over Ciara. ‘He did not come back to save you. He couldn’t even save himself. They brought him back, and they want us to hear his suffering.’
‘But,’ Ciara replied, whispering now, ‘why would they do that?’
‘Because he tried to escape,’ she replied. ‘I am tired of wasting my breath on you. No one escapes this place. How many times do I have to tell you this? John was dead the moment he walked out that door thinking that they wouldn’t find him. They always find you.’
Ciara held her face in her hands and wept to the sound of her husband’s suffering. Mina inched over towards her as though walking on broken glass. Daniel followed. There was nothing either of them could say or do. Madeline was outnumbered, and so frail that Mina guessed she could take her on, with or without Daniel’s help. But what would they have achieved? They could have wrested the keys from her hand and released the many locks that the woman inspected each and every day. They could have thrown open the door, defying Madeline and her rules. But what was out there? What had Madeline seen that made her guard the door like the very gates of hell?
‘Is there nothing we can do?’ Mina asked her.
‘Not until morning,’ she replied, already walking back towards the table, dismissing them entirely.
‘I’m not leaving him out there,’ Ciara said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
‘That’s not your decision to make,’ Madeline replied without turning as she began to tidy up after their dinner.
‘You can’t stop me,’ she said.
Madeline didn’t respond. Ignoring Ciara was not going to calm her down. Mina knew that much. She placed a
hand tenderly on her shoulder, trying in vain to console the woman. She was somewhere else. Her thoughts were out there, in the forest, with the man whose cries for help were weakening by the second. Mina knew that they couldn’t leave the coop. As heartless as Madeline’s approach to the situation may have been, so long as the door remained locked, they were safe.
‘Please,’ Daniel said, ‘don’t go out there. We can look for John as soon as the light turns off.’
Ciara stared at the boy, shocked that he could side with Madeline when she needed him most. He looked close to tears, as if he already hated himself for saying it. She then turned to Mina in the hope that she would support her.
‘He’s right,’ she said. ‘We can’t go out there, Ciara. I wish we could, but we can’t.’
‘I can’t believe you’re both doing this to me,’ she whispered.
Mina didn’t know what to say. She had never experienced that blind, selfless devotion that would send Ciara to her dying husband’s side if only so they could die together.
John’s cries stopped abruptly. The silence struck Ciara’s heart like a spear and she sobbed at the sight of her lone reflection, condemned to never stand by her husband’s side again. Mina and Daniel couldn’t take their eyes off her. It was like witnessing a terrible accident; one they had caused. Their cowardice had affected another. Mina imagined the watchers fighting over John’s scraps. A leg here and an arm there, each part of him dragged into a different pit. Her imagination dealt only in horror now.
Ciara collapsed into bed and buried herself out of sight. This was hopelessness. Mina looked at Madeline who sighed as though she knew that it would find the girl eventually and secretly dreaded the inconvenience of it all. Ciara’s husband had died for them, and it had all been for nothing. Mina knew that the storm of Ciara’s tears would someday calm, and in their ocean she would see all of their faces; the ones who let her husband die.
