David Moody - Them or Us

Last time I was here—last time I was trying to leave Lowestoft—I was working alone and intending to travel alone, too. Things are different now. The Unchanged need to get enough stuff together for at least thirty people. Bedding, clothes, furniture for firewood, everything counts today. Between us we need to completely empty this place and leave nothing behind. Maybe we should check a few of the nearest houses, too, if we have time. We should fill the car to capacity and take as much stuff as possible with us to the boatyard.

* * *

The noises downstairs have stopped. By the sound of things they’re done loading the jeep. I’ve been watching the road outside from an upstairs window, making sure no one comes snooping around. The people we saw as we were driving back here were a concern. If any of them drift off the main road and end up around this place we could be in trouble. My body hurts, and it’s hard to concentrate. Every movement is an effort, and I lean against the windowsill and stare out, my eyes drawn to the drifting black smoke rising up over what’s left of Lowestoft in the distance.

I throw a couple of sheets and blankets down the stairs, then empty out a chest of drawers and chuck a load of clothing and underwear down, too. In the bathroom there’s a little soap and shampoo and a few other things in a mirrored cabinet on the wall. We had one like that in the apartment back home. I used to shave in front of it, but the man I see when I look in the mirror today is nothing like the man I used to be. Today I look like the life has been sucked out of me, and I’m thankful for the mess of hair and the straggly beard that hide the full extent of my physical deterioration. The longer I look, the more frightened I get. If someone cut me open, they’d find more cancer than man now, I think.

I pause to catch my breath again in the back bedroom, the child’s room with the abandoned board game on the floor. I used to avoid coming in here before, but things feel different today. It’s not much of a gesture, but I pick up a couple of small teddy bears and shove them in my pocket along with the grenade and gun. I bet that kid Chloe will like them. She deserves to have something like—

“What’s going on, Danny?”

I freeze and stand perfectly still, unable to move, staring at the wall dead ahead, gripping another toy tight in my hand. I know that voice. It’s neither Todd nor Dean. Too calm. Too composed. Too confident. It can’t be, can it? I slowly turn around, and there, standing in the doorway in front of me, his clothes glistening with streaks of freshly spilled blood, is Hinchcliffe. My mouth’s dry and I can’t speak. How can this be happening?

“Found two Unchanged downstairs, helping themselves to your stuff. What’s that all about? Don’t worry, by the way, Danny, I straightened them out for you. Stopped them stealing anything. Killed both of the fuckers before they even knew I was watching.”

“I can explain, Hinchcliffe…”

“I doubt you can.”

He takes a step toward me, and I move back until I hit the wall and I can’t go any farther.

“It’s not what you think.”

“How would you know? You don’t know what I think. I don’t know how you think, either. I thought I was starting to understand, but you keep surprising me, Danny McCoyne.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I knew you’d come back. You’re so fucking naive. You’ve got no idea, have you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He walks forward again, and I’ve got nowhere left to go. He leans over me, an arm on either side of my shoulders, pinning me down without even having to touch me. He checks my pockets, taking my grenade, my pistol, and one of my knives. He digs the tip of the knife into the wall, level with my eyeline. He twists the blade around and makes a hole, plaster dust drifting down and landing on my boot.

“Why do you think I’ve kept hold of you for so long, Danny?” he asks. “Is it because of your dynamic personality? Your sparkling wit? Your remarkable strength?”

Sarcastic bastard.

“Because I’m useful to you? Because I can hold the Hate? Because I can hunt out the Unchanged?”

“Right on all three counts,” he says, “but you still don’t completely get it.”

I can’t think straight, and I doubt I’d be able to understand what he’s talking about even if I could. He pushes himself away from the wall and walks away. I have two more knives on me; should I just try to attack and get this over with? The temptation’s strong, but I don’t think I can. Even if I did, Hinchcliffe’s always been far more powerful than me. He’s just killed two Unchanged men without breaking a sweat. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

“You, Danny,” he explains, pointing at me with my blade, “are unique. Didn’t you ever wonder why I gave you so many chances?”

“To be honest, I was just relieved you weren’t kicking the shit out of me. Anything else was a bonus.”

He laughs and sits down on the end of the narrow single bed on one side of this room. He picks up a small metal toy—looks like a music box—from a bedside table, then puts down his knife and turns a key to wind it up. When he lets it go it starts to play a tune. A lullaby. Can’t remember the name of it. Makes me want to cry.

“The reality, Danny,” he says, talking over the beautiful noise, “is that you’re different. I told you before that I liked the way you could take a step back from everything, remember? You’ve always been able to look beyond the fighting and see the bigger picture. Most people think you’re a useless coward, and to an extent you are, but there’s more to you than that.”

“So how is a useless coward supposed to help the all-powerful Hinchcliffe?”

“Simple, you’re always looking for the way out. You come at problems from a different perspective that no one else sees. We’re all focused on the kill, but not you. I came back here for you, Danny, because I knew you’d be trying to get away from the fighting, not running toward it like the rest of them, and I knew you’d end up here again eventually. I’m not stupid, I know how much stuff you’ve got hidden away here. Christ, I’ve been giving you extra rations for weeks, and I know you haven’t been eating any of it. It was pretty damn obvious you’d been stashing it away somewhere. Close enough to Lowestoft for you to get to, far enough away to avoid any fallout, so to speak.”

“Take everything.”

“I don’t want your food, you moron.”

“What, then?”

“I want to know where you were going. I knew you’d have a plan to get away, Dan, I just didn’t think it would involve Unchanged.”

“It doesn’t now you’ve killed them.”

“For fuck’s sake, what else was I going to do? They were Unchanged, Danny.”

“They hadn’t done anything wrong.”

“They were still breathing, that’s wrong in my book.”

“Then maybe you need a new book.”

He gets up fast and charges across the room, slamming into me before I have a chance to react, shoving me hard against the wall, his hand wrapped around my throat.

“Don’t push me,” he hisses in my face, tightening his grip. “I’m really not in the mood. I’ve had a bad couple of days.”

“It didn’t have to be like this.”

“Like what?”

“You could have talked to Ankin. You could have tried to find some common ground.”

“I didn’t get the chance. Anyway, the Unchanged are our common ground, or at least they were. Now it’s just every man for himself. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d talked to Ankin for six fucking months and agreed with him on everything, the end result would have been the same.”

“No it wouldn’t. There was no need for what you did.”