Dead Days: The Complete Season Two Collection (35 page)

He’d packed a few other bits and bobs too. Tinned food, a toothbrush‌—‌even though his teeth had felt furry as fuck ever since these flesh-eating goons started walking the earth. He rubbed his tongue against his teeth and wondered if he was ever going to have a fresh mouth again.

Whisky did a good job of making up for the lack of freshness, too.

He saw Riley sitting on the concrete steps in front of the main Heathwaite’s leisure centre. What they were gonna do was risky, but it was the best shot they had. There were only four of those gate guards now. Pedro figured they could put them to sleep without much fuss, open up the gate, then cause a panic with the remaining guards at the caravan Claudia and Chloë were in. It wasn’t his ideal choice. Really, he’d rather have just put his feet up here for the winter. But yeah. Claudia and Chloë were friends. Couldn’t leave friends behind, and all that.

Well, you could, but probably best not to in these circumstances. Might get people suspicious.

He tugged his bag further over his shoulder and walked towards Riley. He was so close. They were so close to getting this done with. It’d be a shame to see the back of Heathwaite’s, but leaving places always was a shame. Hopefully this bunker over the Knott would be good enough.

If not, there’d be somewhere else. When you were trying to survive, there always was a somewhere else.

As he went to take his next step down the road, he felt himself stop. It was as if someone had brought down an invisible barrier right in front of him. He tried to walk again, but again, he couldn’t move.

That’s when he realised that somebody was holding onto his bag.

Pedro turned around right away.

Rodrigo was the one holding his bag.

“Al‌—‌alright boss?” Pedro said. A little speck of spit spat down his bearded chin.
Fuck. Keep yourself cool, Pedro. Keep yourself cool.

Rodrigo held on to Pedro’s bag. He stared him in the eyes with an intensity like Pedro had never seen, not since he’d been at Heathwaite’s. Then, after a few more seconds that felt like forever of this staring: “Going somewhere?”

Pedro gulped. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Think quick. Just need to get to Riley. Rodrigo knows nothing. Nothing at all. Play it right. “Havin’ a drink with Riley. He needs it with all this shite goin’ on with Claudia and Chloë.”

Rodrigo held Pedro’s bag. He actually looked at this green rucksack once for a number of seconds as if his eyes were X-Ray scanners and he could see right through. He knew. He was going to ask to look. He was going to find the Fluothane and all of this plan would go right down the shitter.

“Aye, it’s…‌‌I just wanted a private chat with him. Like, no offence. Just figured it’d be good for us to‌—‌”

“You’ve all day for a private chat,” Rodrigo said. He let go of the bag. Pedro felt like running away right now. “Why don’t you let me have a drink with you, huh? Clear the air about all the shit that’s been going on today. I know I could do with one.”

Pedro’s stomach sank even further. He had no choice, really. He had to say yes. He just had to. Or it’d look even more suspicious.

Pedro nodded once. “Yeah, alright. I’m sure Riley’ll be alreet about‌—‌”

“Lead the way,” Rodrigo said.

Pedro felt a little uncomfortable turning his back to Rodrigo as he walked in Riley’s direction, every step a heavy, lumbering one. Not that he was threatened by Rodrigo‌—‌he’d dealt with bigger, more pumped up yanks than him in his time. But there was a look in his eyes. Like he was one step ahead. And Pedro didn’t like that one bit.

He walked slowly in Riley’s direction, every step torturous, like stepping across hot ashes.

When Riley turned around, for a split second, there was a smile on his face.

For an even shorter moment, that smile dropped, and he blinked rapidly as he focused on Rodrigo, right behind Pedro.

And then the smile returned. This time forced. This time stretched.

In other words, Riley knew just as well as Pedro that they were fucked.

“Seriously, you better tell me what you were doing in that drawer, love. Lot of people out there who might not ask as nicely as me.”

Anna stared back at James. He’d closed the door behind him now. The look of pity at Anna’s tears that he’d shown just minutes earlier was completely gone now, replaced by a furrowed-browed look of suspicion.

He was on to her. He knew something was wrong.

“James, I‌—‌I was just finding them some water. Something to‌—‌”

“Bullshit,” James shouted. Saliva sprayed out of his mouth. His cheeks flushed, like an old man who’d drank too much booze. “You’d go to that bottle if you were after water. Bullshit were you giving ‘um water. So what is it?”

Anna was completely still. Claudia and Chloë were still, too. The plan was falling apart. They were surrounded. James was going to report this to Rodrigo. He was going to report this and the whole escape plan was going to crumble, piece by piece.

“Just show me yer hands,” James said, smiling now. “Come on. Show me yer hands so I know you ain’t holdin’ anything or doing owt wrong.”

Anna’s stomach filled with tension. “James, I swear‌—‌”

“Show ‘um,” he said, sternly. “Show ‘um, or I’ll come look at ‘um myself.”

Anna felt like a kid who’d been caught stealing sweets from a shop. Only very expensive sweets. Sweets that cost you far more than a grounding for a week.

Her cheeks burned. Her fingers clenched.

Then, she let go of the needle and lifted her hands.

A part of her hoped that James would miss the needle as it fell from her hands. A part of her hoped that he’d just watch her open up her hands and hold them up.

But no. Stupid idea. He watched the needle drop to the floor behind her. He watched it, and his eyes widened as he stared at it.

He sighed. Shook his head. “Anna, I always thought you were a feisty girl. But I didn’t have you down as a dumb bitch.”

“James, I swear to you‌—‌”

“Shut the fuck up you filthy little slut,” James said. His gun was raised and pointed right at Anna. “Thought you’d be able to set ‘um free, did you? Thought a fucking needle would release them cuffs? Bitch. Who else is in on this? I bet Riley’s in on this, isn’t he? Bet you all planned on letting your two sluts out of here and stabbing us in the back on the first chance‌—‌”

“They’re good people!” Anna shouted as James walked towards her with his handgun raised. Fuck. She could’ve attacked him if it came to that. She could’ve attacked him with the needle but now that was on the floor and her chance was gone. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

James smiled. “Slut showin’ her true colours when a gun’s pointed in her face. What d’you reckon ladies? Shall we have a foursome later? Nice punishment foursome? Make a slutty video? I think we should. I think we definitely should. Now step the fuck aside.”

James stopped right in front of Anna. She could smell onions on his breath, and it made her feel so, so sick. This was it. He was going to take the needle and he was going to tie her up with Claudia and Chloë. He’d made his decision‌—‌Claudia and Chloë were enemies in his eyes. And now, so too was Anna.

“James,” Anna said. Her voice was shaky. The tears were genuine this time. “I swear to you, none of us mean any harm. They’re friends. People. Just like us. People who don’t mean to hurt anyone. And yes, they might’ve got mixed up with Mike, but they were scared. Just like we were. They were scared.”

James’s gun hand began to wobble. So too did his hard smile. Anna could see his defences breaking down. Her heart raced. Her body felt like it had turned to stone. She was pretty sure that if she hadn’t already pissed herself, she would do very soon.

“Please,” she said. “Please.”

James nodded his head. Blinked a couple of times. Looked at Anna, then Claudia, then Chloë. “Sorry,” he said. “I was just working out which one of you I’m going to put my dick inside first. Now step aside, you bitch.”

All hope drifted out of Anna’s body with those words. The last fragments of hope she had. She’d given it her all and she’d failed. She didn’t have anything left in the tank.

But she wasn’t stepping aside. The fucker could push her out of his way if he wanted to, but she wasn’t moving for him.

She stayed put. Kept her hands up.

“I said, step aside,” James said. He grabbed her by the hair. His eyes were bloodshot and furious. Onion breath coated Anna’s face. She could feel his bulging hard cock on the side of her thigh.

“I decided,” he said, sniffing at Anna’s sweaty neck. “It’s gotta be you first. If the boss lets me, it’s gotta be you. In fact‌—‌fuck. What’s stopping us right now, hun? What the fuck’s stoppin’ us going at it right here right now?”

Anna tried to shuffle herself free of his grip but he pressed her back, right above Claudia and Chloë. He started to undo his belt, then moved on to his flies, and the next thing Anna knew this man had his trousers and boxer shorts down to his knees and his cock was staring back at her, angry, desperate.

“Keep still, bitch,” he said, moving closer to her.

Anna had no choice. She saw flashes. Flashes of before the Dead Days of Damon and all the abuse, all the alcohol fuelled abuse. All the times he’d pushed her down against the sofa and had his way with her. All the times, for all those years, she’d let it happen. She’d let it happen for four miserable years. She was frozen. She couldn’t breathe. She could feel James getting closer and closer, shoving his hand down the front of her trousers, tearing away the button.

She gripped her necklace‌—‌gripped it like she always used to whenever things got bad‌—‌as the tears came down her cheeks in full, real flow.

“Keep still,” he said, with his putrid breath. “I’ll make it quick‌—‌ARGHHH!”

Anna didn’t understand what happened next, not at first. All she knew was that James was screaming in her face. At first, for a split second, she wondered if this was part of him trying to frighten her‌—‌trying to psychologically rape her as well as physically.

It was only when she looked down at James’s erect sergeant that she realised what was happening.

Blood was spraying out of James’s dick as he fell backwards, stumbling across the brown‌—‌now partly bloodstained‌—‌floor of the caravan. There was a long, sharp needle sticking through the end of his dick, pierced right the way through.

Chloë stood to her feet. She pushed James down as he whimpered and screamed in pain, unable to fight back in his fit of sheer agony.

And then the screams were muffled, and then they were gone.

It happened like that to Anna. Like a video had been fast-forwarded. Except it hadn’t. She’d seen what had happened. She’d seen what Chloë had done, right there in front of her.

Chloë turned back to Anna, the glass vase from the coffee table covered in blood and pieces of flesh.

Blood from James’s bludgeoned head.

Chloë pulled the duct tape away from her mouth, revealing chapped, broken lips. She half-smiled at Anna, who was completely frozen to the spot still, her trousers halfway down her legs.

“What do we do now, Anna?” Chloë asked as she held the bloody vase in her hand, James’s bludgeoned, twitching body oozing blood onto the brown carpet of the caravan.

Anna gasped. Gasped out a breath.

They were going to have to do something, that was for sure.

And it involved getting the fuck out of Heathwaite’s.

Fast.

Chapter Six

Riley was completely rigid as he sat on the concrete steps leading up to the leisure centre. It’d started when he turned around to his right, desperate to see Pedro walking his way with the sleeping chemical and the rucksack of whatever supplies they needed.

He had turned around and seen Pedro. Walking right his way, and with a rucksack over his shoulder.

Only problem was that Rodrigo was with him.

And now, the three of them were sat together on the steps leading up to the leisure centre. Not saying much, just sitting. Anna could’ve set Claudia and Chloë free. The pair of them could be waiting for them to distract the caravan guards in some way, and yet it just wasn’t happening.

“Getting cooler by the day, huh?” Rodrigo asked. He sipped from the bottle of cheap whisky that Pedro had brought with him. Famous Grouse, it was. Nasty as fuck.

But not as nasty as the situation they were in.

“God, I really am going full British again, talking about the weather like this.” Rodrigo grinned at Pedro and at Riley. Both of them forced the best grins they could, but they weren’t the most convincing.

“Actually, I wanted to take this time to thank you. For not doing anything stupid when it comes to our…‌‌our guests. I realise the temptation must’ve been there and whatever. But as far as I see it‌—‌as far as my people see it‌—‌they’re Mike’s. So we need to send a message back to him to stop anything like this happening again‌—‌”

“Don’t,” Riley said. He shook his head. Bit down on his tongue. He wanted to spur out all his frustration at this “send out a message” bullshit. And sure‌—‌Rodrigo might’ve said he wouldn’t kill them. But accidents happened. And there was no greater message than a revenge killing.

“I understand you’re pissed,” Rodrigo said. “Like, I seriously get it. But I think you do too. I only want to keep this place safe. You know that as well as anyone. I’m not a tyrant or anything like that‌—‌”

“What’s stopping you just lettin’ em go?” Pedro blurted out. Although he’d initially been seemingly a little on the fence about the next step, there was no doubting where his allegiances lay now.

Rodrigo knocked back some more whisky and stared out towards the gates. “Here’s what happens if I let them go. They walk back to Mike unharmed. Tell him what a bunch of pussies we are. Mike has a damn good laugh about this whole ordeal, and he prepares his next move. He’s toying with us.”

“Then how about we integrate them? Like I said, they’re good people.”

Rodrigo half-smiled at Riley and shook his head. “You’re a good person, Riley. Too good a person at times. Reintegration is not going to work, not now people know that there’s a risk of double-crossing going on in this place. Their defences are up as it is. And I’d hate for you to have to bear the brunt of that.”