Insidious Valour, page 18
As Ryan began his surprise cardio session, he remembered the last time he’d completed the same four-lap jog. It had been a roasting summer day. Alfie was barely three days old, and Doc was the one who had timed him. Only six months had passed since that day. Alfie was nearly sitting up by himself, the scorching weather now replaced with the heaviest snowfall anyone had ever seen, and what was left of Doc was now buried at the back of their grounds with everyone who had been taken from them since the Termite War began.
Six months of false promises, desperate uncertainty, and living on the edge of a blade that wanted to cut their life in two.
I need you to say it’s over, Harper, Ryan pleaded in his head as he completed the first lap in just over seven minutes. His body found a steady rhythm, but his thoughts were going faster than he could handle. I need this all to end.
By the time he’d completed the second lap, endorphins were running riot in his muscles, and the extra weight of the snow on his shoes had all but vanished as he sped up, trying to outrun the confusion that bounced off the inside of his skull. There was no peace to be found in the war against Admiral, and as much as Ryan wanted to take Connor’s life, he knew the fate of their enemies would be in the hands of the European Alliance. I need blood to spill, Ryan begged internally, wondering just how the operations in both Liberia and the Scottish Isles had fared in their fights. Something told Ryan that the long-lasting silence meant it hadn’t been a clean sweep. What if it’s still ongoing?
He completed the third lap in just under six minutes. The brisk, sharp air warmed the second he inhaled, and sweat drenched his hoodie and jogging bottoms. It could’ve been summer for all he knew. His feet squelched into his previous lap’s footprints, flicking a muddy slush up his back with every step. The only other sounds were his determined breathing and the slapping of his soles against the ground. Everything else was silent.
What if Harper lost?
Ryan began to slow, coming to a complete stop as the foreboding thought embedded itself into him. It took control, paralysing and numbing the world around. The light grey clouds appeared to turn dark, the maze walls looming over as they constricted the vineyard, consuming everything they had built and fought for. Ryan’s home began to destroy itself around him. Everything they had achieved would all be for nothing if Admiral had won.
“No!” Ryan roared, snapping himself out of it. He clenched his hands a couple of times before rubbing his face. “No.” He began to run again. “Not for nothing.”
By the time he’d nearly finished the final lap, his muscles began to cramp, sensing the end of the exercise. The lactic acid ripped through his calves and up his thighs.
Harper did not fail. I will not fail.
Against his own judgement, he broke into a sprint and rounded the final corner behind the spinach patch, slipping and landing elbow first on his right arm, which his ribs landed heavily on top of. Angrily ignoring it, he pulled himself up and continued, though limping by the end of it as he finally met the driveway and collapsed to his knees.
“Eight-minute final lap,” Drinker announced, looking at his stopwatch. “What took so long? And what the fuck was that shout?”
“I slipped over.” Ryan pointed to the fresh mud on his clothes, though lying about when it had happened. “Needed a minute to recover.”
“Aye, ya wuss!” Drinker smirked. “Thought you were tougher than a grazed knee.”
Ryan chuckled nervously, glad that no one had seen his momentary pause. He leaned into his open bag, taking the cigarette and matches. The nicotine felt great, but the quick inhale caused him to cough so hard that he wretched. He spat thick saliva onto the snow and leaned over, trying to regain normal breathing.
“I don’t need to tell you smoking’s bad for you,” Drinker said sarcastically as he picked up their sports bag and threw it over his shoulder.
“Funny,” Ryan coughed. “Because being mouthy can get you a smack in the face, but there’s no health warning for that.”
The pair started their walk back to the winery.
“After those girly punches you threw today, I don’t have to worry about that.”
“Asshole.”
As they reached the gravel car park, the winery’s front double doors opened, with Cassy leading out one of the horses by the head collar. The rest of their small herd followed, with all the community’s children mounted atop. Ryan saw Maisie on the last of the horses, her favourite. Where all the others were tall and dark, that particular one was much smaller and almost hazel red. He was aware that the classes were taking the animals out for a run-around today and to teach the children how to change the feeds, muck, and water.
“How’s school today?” Ryan asked, flicking the cigarette behind him. A mixture of excited voices blurted back at him from the children, which helped warm up his soul. It wasn’t just the innocence of it all, but the genuine moments where they weren’t screaming or frightened for their lives that helped lift Ryan.
Those moments were what the vineyard had achieved.
We won’t lose. We can’t lose, he forced himself to repeat over and over.
“We’re staying close to the building,” Cassy said reassuringly as she gently pulled the horse’s lead. “We won’t be going out to the walls.”
“I know you won’t.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Because I’m on lookout when I get upstairs.”
“Who’s watching Alfie?” she asked. “Sandra needs to make dinner.”
“I am.” Drinker raised his hand. “I said it was the least I could do after kicking your fiancé’s arse for three hours.” He turned and winked at Ryan. “Scared I might take your missus away?”
“You take me away from Ryan?” Cassy shot back, unimpressed, before the charade dropped, and a cheeky smile spread across her face. “That would never happen, seeing as you’re gay.”
“For the love of f…” Drinker moaned before cutting his curse word off in front of the children. Ryan couldn’t help but break into hysterics, sending him to fall onto his pained knees as he lost all control.
Drinker stormed inside, leaving Ryan to say goodbye to Cassy and the kids before limping upstairs to the restaurant. Each laugh was met with a pained cry as he hobbled upwards, and then, a few steps short of the top, he stopped. The brief happiness and even the pain in his knees evaporated, and a dark sadness washed over him, numbing him to the spot.
I don’t want to lose this. He sat on the stairs, his smile dropped, and his eyes filled with tears. I can’t deal with this.
He held his face in his hands, repressing the urge to let it all out. He wiped his nose and forced himself to stand, making sure all the tears were gone. What’s wrong with you?
Reluctantly, he finished his ascendence and stepped into the restaurant. Dominic sat with his back turned, eagle-eyed, out the front window. Next to him, a laptop screen displayed feedback from four small, portable cameras hidden at the four main junctions into Maidville.
“Anything come up on the screens?” Ryan asked as he lowered his bag to the nearest table.
“Can’t get any porn,” Dominic joked, turning round to reveal his white-toothed grin. His black complexion seemed to have turned a touch pale during the severe snow, and his clean-shaven appearance now sported a small afro and patchy beard. “Though I did get to watch Drinker kick your ass again.”
“It was a closer sparring session than two days ago,” Ryan said defensively.
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Ryan ignored it and pulled the replacement hoodie out of the bag, changing his mud-covered one. “Who’s on laundry today?”
“That’ll be me.” Dominic stood. “I said I’d swap with your missus because she’s doing the teacher shift today.”
“Ah, cool.” Ryan smiled, nodding to the dirty hoodie in his hand. “Take that with you when you go down then, boss.”
“Motherfucker.” Dominic grinned, and then his bulky frame strode over and snatched the hoodie. “At least it’s good to see you joking again. I thought for a while you were going down a dark path.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been quieter than you usually are, and you haven’t been out to the graves in a month.”
“You been spying on me?”
“Not really, but we both know the Lord sent me here to watch over you,” Dominic joked, then bit his lip, “You don’t have to worry about your sister or Mikey and Jen. They’re in good hands. And as for us… the army is going to deal with our enemies. It’s not your issue,” he said, attempting to assure Ryan. “Your butt needs to be watching out that window because we have a small classroom having a field trip today.”
Ryan wondered if Dominic had seen his moment of paralysation earlier or if the resident vicar/teacher/security overwatch was just naturally gifted at saying the right thing at the right time. Maybe it was true, and he was sent from God. “Thanks,” he said weakly before hurrying to the window and checking the small school trip.
“I’ll see you in the morning, boss,” Dominic said as he left down the stairwell.
“For fuck’s sake,” Ryan whispered to himself, though he knew he was lucky to have these people around him. It was a blessing and rarity in this world, and God only knew what other groups of survivors had witnessed or been forced to do just to get through each day.
He checked over the L96 sniper rifle before sitting it across his lap and focusing on the laptop display. Nothing moved or seemed out of place on the four live feedbacks. Camera three was the furthest away, nestled in a bird box and facing the main road that led out of Maidville towards Gatwick. The line of sight pointed for a couple of hundred metres down the A25, but creeping on the left side of its monitor was a sight that made Ryan want to puke every time he saw it. The hotel entrance where Doc and Sam were murdered in front of him. He quickly moved his eyes away to Camera One, showing the barricade at the northern end of the carriageway.
He added to notes left by Dominic.
Camera One- Northen Barricade: No activity.
Camera Two- Petrol Station: Couple of birds.
Camera Three- Southern Barricade: No Activity.
Camera Four- Maidhill Peak: No Activity.
He left the pen by the pad and shouldered the rifle. The soft trotting of the horses crunched against the snow, and some of the children laughed while Cassy tried to talk above them. Ryan watched them come back around the front of the building, pulling the rifle into firing position and aiming towards Maidhill. Though Camera Four was well hidden up there and had yet to pick up any movement, Ryan didn’t trust it.
Instinctively, he searched the treeline, just waiting to see someone pointing a rifle back at the vineyard. Anxiety gripped so hard that his fingers spasmed, clamping down against the trigger. Behind the panicked, sharp breaths, he pulled away from the gun, thankful that the safety catch was still on.
Fucking sort yourself out, man.
He hated to admit it, but there was no point denying it to himself anymore. Something had broken inside his head, and the switch that used to keep his calmness in check had been turned off, and he was now going manically from high to low.
Chaos consumed every waking thought, and there was only one way it could end.
I need to know what’s going on.
33
The morning sun reflected against the snow with blinding relentlessness, and fortunately, the clear blue sky wasn’t radiating the warmth that it suggested. Both factors helped Ryan not to fall into the peaceful sleep that his mind and body begged for. A hard shiver jolted down his spine, making his knee flinch and crack against the table leg.
“Fucking cunt!” he growled, rubbing the sore area. Those were the first words he’d spoken through the long, lifeless night and morning.
“I heard that, boss,” Dominic announced as he entered the restaurant, placing a mug of piping hot, black liquid on the same table Ryan had just clashed with.
“What’s that?” Ryan asked, untying his dreadlocks.
“Some of the coffee that Harper left for Drinker. Thought you could use it after this shift.”
“Oh, thanks.”
Ryan sipped carefully, trying not to burn his lips. He hadn’t tasted coffee for over a decade, which was by choice and not due to the lack of supply since the war. Whereas most benefited from the caffeine, Ryan would lose focus and scatter between tasks, making his profession as a chef extremely difficult.
Coffee was one of the few things they were yet to try and harvest for themselves, but by now, everyone was used to the grape water, wine, and tea grown within their agricultural process.
Ryan felt the surge within seconds, and his tiredness evaporated behind the buzz that reached all the way through to his fingertips. “Fuck me, that’s good,” he declared, pushing the mug towards Dominic. “You finish that. If I have any more, I might explode.”
“You look like you’re ready for a rave.” Dominic laughed and said, “Save your dancing for when this is over.”
“Harper needs to fucking hurry up then.” Ryan stood, drumming his fingers against the table. “It all needs to hurry up. I need to hear from him. Fuck, I need to hear from Steph, Mikey, Jen. I need to know Rich has pulled through. I can’t take the fucking silence,” he blurted, holding his head. “Why haven’t we heard from them?”
“Woah, calm down.”
“I can’t calm down, Dominic. I can’t.”
“What’s going on?” Dominic approached, holding Ryan by the shoulders. “Where’s this come from?”
“Everything,” Ryan admitted, looking down at his feet tapping against the stained carpet. One of his locks dangled in front of his eyes. The vibrant blond was beginning to fade to a dull grey.
“How long have you felt like this?”
Ryan didn’t want to answer. All he knew was everyone felt safer when he was keeping himself together. He couldn’t lose it again. “I don’t know,” he deflected. It was all true. Until yesterday, he hadn’t noticed his intrusive thoughts had begun to take hold of him. “I don’t think I should drink coffee again.”
“You’re gonna blame this on the coffee?” Dominic asked with doubt, letting go.
“Yeah. You know I am.”
“Okay, boss. I’m gonna be upfront, though: if you keep a hell burning inside you, it will consume you. There’s nothing wrong with feeling caution during this time.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.
“I’m not stupid. None of us are,” Dominic said factually, looking out the window. “It’s been weeks since we had any contact. It’s in our nature to assume the worst, given everything we’ve faced and the enemy this war is against. I talk to the missus about it every night, and it’s possible that something might’ve gone wrong.” He took the L96 rifle from Ryan and sat in the chair. “There’s also every chance it’s gone right, or still ongoing.”
“And Sandra just listens to your optimism?”
“She doesn’t have a choice.” Dominic shrugged, turning to face Ryan. “You will see Steph again. Mikey and Jen, too. We will get an update about Rich. One way or another, we won’t be apart forever.” He checked the chamber and turned back to the window. “Now, go for your weekly shower. You smell like shit after your jog yesterday.”
“Cunt.” Ryan sniggered before placing his hand on Dominic’s shoulder. “But thank you.”
He left the handheld radio on the table before heading down the stairwell. He turned off on the first floor, following the corridor to the end and turning left towards his family quarters. He opened the door quietly, finding Cassy pulling on a hoodie over a turtleneck sweater.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” she asked, tying her dark hair back into a bun.
“What do you mean?” Ryan replied, frowning.
“You look like you’ve snorted a can of energy drink.”
“Oh. Dominic gave me some of Drinker’s coffee stash.”
“I’ve never seen you drink coffee,” she remarked, unlocking the desk drawer and taking out her pistol.
Ryan pointed to his eyes, saying, “And this is why.” He placed his own pistol in the drawer and shut it. “You watching over Hannah today?”
“Yep. Got a whole day with the bitch. Thankfully, she’s quieted down since you spoke to her. What did you say?”
“Honestly… I promised her a quicker death if she left you alone.”
“You have a way with words,” Cassy said, kissing him on the cheek.
“I should’ve been a motivational speaker.” Ryan shrugged while peering into the cot and playing with Alfie’s feet. Their six-month-old was currently occupied with a sparkly mobile dangling above him. “I’ve gotta have a shower.”
“I was going to ask if you were.”
“I smell that bad?”
“What gave that away?”
“Charming.” Ryan rolled his eyes and said, “Have fun on shift. Dominic and Drinker have the other radios if you need anything.”
“What are you up to today?” Cassy asked, opening the door.
“Stock-take today. Checking all and every supply of everything. Should be fun,” he said sarcastically.
“You can teach Alfie then. Have fun, baby.” She kissed him before leaving for her shift.
Ryan sat on their bed and yawned. The caffeine burned off, and the crash started to kick in. He tapped his legs and reached for the bottle of grape water, downing half a bottle and shaking his head hard. Alfie screeched happily while kicking his legs on his bedding.
“Busy day, little man.” Ryan reached in and played with his son’s feet. “And Uncle Dominic ain’t ever allowed to try and give me coffee again.”
Cassy stepped into the basement with a tray of soda bread and berry compote. She placed the tray in front of Hannah’s cell and relieved young Callum of his duty. He was reluctant to go, and to Cassy’s disbelief, Hannah convinced him that his shift was over and that he should get some rest.
After watching him eventually head back up the stairs, Cassy took her seat and stared Hannah down. “What have you been saying to him?”
