Chapter 19: Elektra

Chapter 18

Elektra

The Sun glosses across the clear, still water. The sound of birdsong begins to fill the air; the sound of life takes over from the sounds of the dead. I open my eyes and take a deep breath. The peace is refreshing. The past few months, passing from place to place, have been so difficult. There have been Risers on every corner, or so it seemed. We were lucky that all of us made it to this point, together. I untangle myself from Danny's arms, being careful not to wake him. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stare down. My swollen stomach seems to get larger by the day. Not long now. Just another month of so, if my calculation of the date was correct.

I stand up and stretch. Everything that we've seen and yet here we are. You can't deny that view. Sunlight on water. I pick up my jacket from the window sill and put it on. It won't do up anymore which, although inconvenient, seems more comfortable. I walk over to the mirror on the far wall. Amazing what a few hours of sleep can do to appearances. The bags beneath my eyes don't seem as bad as usual and my skin seems full of more colour. I tie my hair back and take another deep breath.

I open the door that leads out onto the beach. Jason is sitting on the rocks, watching the tide coming in and going out. His blonde hair seems to have got a lot darker and curlier. Like a fully grown cherub. He is whittling a piece of wood; that's another hobby he's developed recently. Wood is in great supply, he has a knife. So far I've had three wooden owls, or that's what I think they are. I tap his shoulder. He jumps and stands to face me.

“You scared the crap out of me. Why are you awake? You seemed to be exhausted yesterday.”

“I don't get much sleep these days; whenever I get comfortable, this one seems to decide to play footie with my ribs or bladder.” I rest my hand on my stomach and yawn. Jason laughs and helps me to the ground. He picks up the blanket next to him and puts it around my shoulders, and then stretches it to fit around his. It is freezing. It must be midwinter by now, October or November. Just another crisp winter's morning, without the constant British rain to contend with.

“Beautiful, is it not?” he asks, looking out into oblivion.

“Can't deny it; it's gorgeous. I don't think I'd ever seen a sandy beach until we got here; just the rocky ones. I went to Hastings once, I think. I always get confused by the names and...John never used to give us the liberty of knowing exactly where we were,” I reply, placing my hand on my stomach. The skin is so taut and marked by lines and scars. I have more than my fair share of scars, from the jagged scar on my abdomen to the bullet hole in my shoulder.

“Hastings? Why did he decide to take you to a holiday destination so close to where we were? If he was a part of our group, why would he bring you so close to us, knowing that there was the possibility of an encounter?”

“I don't understand anything that man did. Nothing he did makes any sense anymore. Eighteen months ago, I would never have questioned anything John did; he was the only father I had ever known, he was my mentor and my protector-”

“A lot can change in eighteen months,” Jason interrupts, putting his arm around me.

“Everything has changed. Bloody everything. I never really ever thought I would leave England. Yet, here we are.”

“And here we remain.”

The sound of birdsong resounds, getting slightly louder than before. I lean into Jason. So much has changed in my life but I'm still alive. I still have my family. I still have Jason. I still have Danny. I am so lucky, considering everything that has happened. We are all still here, we haven't lost anyone. Not even Sophia or Alfie which, I'm not going to deny, has surprised me.

The faint sound of a baby's cry seems to overpower the birdsong. Lucas and Helene should be able to deal with her cries; they both managed to get eight hours of sleep because we agreed to take the watch. Helene has never really been the same since Soph's birth; I think we did some serious damage. She always seems lethargic and irritable and it is difficult to get through to her. Lucas is blind to it because he doesn't want to accept that anything might be wrong. Everything is wrong with her, in my opinion. Well, not everything but you get the point. If I even interact with Sophia when Helene is around, I can feel her eyes burning into the back of my head or hear her whispers of contempt. Even when I'm doing her a favour by making sure that she can sleep because she doesn't have a screaming, teething baby to contend with. You can imagine how much I appreciate that.

“Uh, that poor child. She never stops crying. Is there anything we can do for teething?”

“We've tried the dummy, which failed. The only thing I can think of is rubbing a finger on the gums but it's not like someone can walk around with their finger in Sophia's mouth and, my God, that girl can dribble.”

Jason laughs and places his hand on my stomach. The baby has begun to kick a lot more often that usual. I think they've already bonded. It's sweet really.

“All that to come, hey?”

“Uh, don't ever talk about it. I'm having nightmares about it, among other things. What do you think it is? I'm not too sure; I've heard that they are ways to tell...not that I particularly care about gender but I do still wonder.” Jason moves over and puts his ear against my stomach.

“I think it's a little survivor, regardless. A little fighter like its mum. But gender-wise, I think it's a girl.”

“Why would you say that?”

Jason smiles. “She kicks like you.” I smile back and give a sarcastic laugh. He responds by doing the same. He sits back up and picks up a wet stone. He begins to sharpen his knife. I try to get to my feet, pushing my weight onto my hands. Jason holds me, supporting my back.

I take a deep breath. The air is clear and fresh. Crisp. We can't be too far from the safe zone; according to the maps at various checkpoints, we should be a matter of miles away. We have travelled such a distance that it all has to be worth it. We are in a town called Wedel and we just have to get to Hamburg. About thirteen miles if my calculations are correct. So close and, yet I can't trust that it will be safe. Lucas has admitted that it was a while ago that they encountered them. A lot can happen in just a day, never mind a few years. Even if it doesn't exist, this isn't a bad place to settle. This building is surrounded by the sea and high walls; we could be safe here, if it comes to that. I don't have long of this pregnancy left and I don't know if I can handle another escape.

I notice Danny emerge from the building. I never thought it would last, me and Danny. I just wanted companionship and physical affection but, in that man I found someone to whom I could relate on every level. He understands why I can't go further, why I can't overcome my emotional barriers, and he accepts it. He has never forced me into a way of thinking like others have tried to do.

“Elektra? Thought I'd find you out here,” he says, wandering over to me. He puts his arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek.

Jason looks up briefly and then averts his gaze. Things haven't got any better between the two of them; they just can't find any common ground, not even for my sake. I am not interested in their bulls**t 'alpha-male' conflict. I don't need the added stress of it, nor do I want it. I won't choose between them if it comes down to it; if they can't find common ground, and it will get me killed, I will walk because it will prove that I'm better off by myself. I swear to God. Jason clears his throat.

“Morning Jason,” Danny says, drawing me into him. Jason looks up, nods and resumes sharpening his knife. This is just about as cordial as they get but at least they aren't tearing each other to shreds.

I begin to feel a strong pain in my abdomen. Stretching and contracting. Uh, it hurts but it isn't unbearable as yet. It feels slightly like a period pain which I can deal with. I mean I have dealt with them for about seven years and I'm still here, barely.

“I'm going for a walk, check the perimeter. Anyone want anything while I'm going? There is still some stock in the off license,” I offer, beginning to walk back towards the building.

“Yes, could you get a lighter and a first aid kit? I noticed that there was not one when I was examining the building,” Jason interjects, getting to his, “I will come with you, in case anything goes sideways.”

“Wait, we don't have one? Okay; no, it's fine. I just want to go and have a look around, I'll be fine. The off license is literally just a few buildings down; if I scream, you'll be able to hear me. Anything else?”

“If they have any cigarettes, could you get me a pack or two? I'm gasping,” Danny asks, reaching into his pocket to find the dregs at the bottom. He knows what I think about smoking. He knows what I think about living in a world full of death and watching people using something that will provide yet more death. Something that will leave them gasping for breath because their lungs will be clogged up with thick black tar, instead of blood. I don't know what I'd prefer. Oh wait, yes I do; neither, I would prefer neither. I would like to keep my lungs functioning the way they are at the current moment.

I groan and nod. Danny smiles and gives me a peck on the lips. I shake my head and head back to the building. It used to be a hotel, from what we can tell. There are fourteen rooms, twelve of which were full of Risers that we had to put down; they'd been dead for at least a year or so going by the rate of decay. They died so recently that they must have been trying to seek some kind of refuge. Were they heading for the safe zone? Did they fail to make it when they were literally just a few miles away? Is that's what going to happen to us? 13 miles, unlucky for some it would seem.

I grab my bag from beside the front door. I don't need much; I don't need to bring that much back and I have my knife, gun and torch attached to my belt. I'm set. I open the door and take the key off of the window sill. I wrap my scarf around my neck and I close the door, making sure not to make too much noise. I stand and watch for a few seconds; there's one lone Risers, feasting on a human carcass. I could get past him; I don't have to kill him but it would be kinder if I did. If I ever became infected or turned into one of those things, I would want someone to put me out of my misery. If I even began to start coughing up blood, I would kill myself then. Better to take a bullet than die choking on my own blood and then coming back to prey on the flesh of the living.

I sneak up behind and drive my knife through the back of his skull. I feel the resistance of his body fighting against me. I push him forward, onto the ground. I wipe my knife on the Riser's shirt and put it back into its sheath. I continue my walk to the off license, taking as much time as possible. I have so little energy these days. There are hardly any bodies around here which leads me to think that someone may have been cleaning things up. I want to take this as a sign, as a sign that everything we have been through has been worth something. My world has expanded so much over the last two years. Sometimes I wish that I had never found out about all of this. Would I have been happier? Would I have found some form of peace in ignorance? I would have had Roman. No, I would've found out about all of this eventually; I couldn't be fooled by John's lies and illusions forever.

I cross my arms to try and keep in as much body heat as possible; my fingers are getting colder by the second. I stop outside the off license and sit on the pavement. The sound of silence is so refreshing. It makes a change from the sound of ripping flesh and the accompanying agonising screams or the sound of bickering. I place my hand on my stomach. My skin feels like the skin of a drum, being pushed to the limits. Stretch marks have painted my skin like septicaemic veins.

I could stay here, just relax for a bit. I have no real tasks to complete and I need some time away from the group. I need to establish some form of distance for my own sake. We're so near so it's only natural that tempers would become frayed. If I go and get the stuff, I can continue to go exploring. Okay. Okay, sounds like a plan to me. I wipe some of the dust and blood from the window and glance in; it seems like there are still some supplies. I can spot the first aid kit on the back wall. It might be worth going in.

I put my hand on the door handle and force the door open. The smell of decay is the first perfume I encounter. I take a minute to evaluate my surroundings; everything seems as calm as is possible. I just have to get in...and get out. That is all. No hanging around. I climb over the counter and, carefully, remove the first aid kit from its hook. I place it on the counter and open it; there is half a bottle of disinfectant, a packet of needles, a tube of ointment and some dental floss. All right, this should be sufficient. I click the fastenings shut and shove it inside my bag. Right, lighter and cigarettes. I open the smashed glass cabinet, slightly. I stick my arm into the gap, trying to avoid the surplus of glass shards. I take two packets and aim to remove my arm like a game of Operation.

The sound of a bottle smashing shocks me. I jump back, dropping the cigarettes at my feet. I bend down, trying to conceal myself behind the marked counter. I hear another bottle crashing to the floor. God. There is someone in here with me. I just have to wait it out for a few minutes; as long as they can't see me, they can't get to me. I hear heavy footsteps wandering into the aisles. One, two, one, two. Heavy breathing accompanies this. They're getting too close to me. Heading directly towards the counter. There is the sound of something being dragged across the floor. A rifle, I'd assume. Oh God, f**k off. I am not in the mood, not today. Please just kindly piss off.

“I know you're here; I can smell you, little pig. Come out, come out wherever you.” The voice booms and echoes through the room. The accent is clear and identifiable. That voice. How could I ever forget that voice? I know exactly who he is. Of course, whenever a moment of peace or tranquillity invades my life, he would return to paint my world red. Of course. How the hell could he find me? Why couldn't he just die? Anywhere, he's here and he knows that he has me trapped. How long has he been following us? That's the only way he would have been able to find us. I have to face him. I have to face that vile, sour b*****d.

Connall.

I pull my gun out of my belt; I have a full barrel. I can fight my way out of this if I have to. Even if I don't have to fight him, I owe him a bullet to the gut. He disabled me and Jason; he violated me and impregnated me. He is not going to come out of this alive; I don't care what I have to sacrifice to make sure he meets his quietus. He's not getting out of this alive. F**k the rules. The rules that say we don't kill the living. He. Will. Not. Survive. This.

“Come on, getting bored now.” He starts whistling the tune from 'Twisted Nerve'. He's mocking me; he knows where I am, he just wants me to expose myself without his physical intervention. I'm going to have to show myself eventually. He's not going to just leave it now. I stand up and point my gun blindly. It's him. It's definitely him. I could never forget that demonic face. How could I forget the face of the man who has haunted my nightmares for nine months?

He smiles and points his gun at me.

“Well, if it wasn't the little bird who got away. You made a mistake coming here alone.”

“You're the one who made the mistake; how long have you been following us? That's the only way you could've known where I was,” I respond, moving my finger to the trigger. I should have just killed him as soon as I stood up but no. No, I want answers first.

“Ha, you've got me. You think I would've just let you go? No, you got away because I wanted you to. I was just biding my time until you made one wrong move. It took you a while but you finally did. I've followed you every step of the way.”

“Of course. Not like you made it too easy or anything. You know, I just have to scream and my group will be on you in just a few seconds. You've seen my group, you know I'm not lying.”

“And who's going to come running? The cripple? The p***y? The crap shot? The spastic child? These going to be the ones to 'f**k me up'? I doubt it.” He begins to walk forward, staring me directly in the eyes. Still the sickening shade. I swallow and move my gun up to warn him. He smiles yet again and continues to whistle. He puts his gun down and raises his hands, as if to surrender to me. He continues to walk forward. I don't trust him at all but at least he isn't armed.

“Get any smart ideas, I will shoot,” I warn, beginning to move my finger away from the trigger. He keeps his hands above his head and walks forward. He stands directly behind the counter, a few metres away from me, his sour breath filling my nostrils. I press my gun against his forehead. He puts his head down. His expression puzzles me; he has an expression of mocking melancholy, an overly exaggerated pout, and then moves his head up. Before I can react, his hands are on my head and he pushes my head forward, cracking my skull on the counter top. I wince. I scream as loud as my lungs will allow me. He punches me in the face and drags me out from the counter. I struggle against his force but he is too strong and I'm too weak. He wraps his arms around my mouth and thorax, strangling me. I feel his knife piercing the small of my back.

“You scream out again, I will cut our offspring out of you. Understand? I said, do you f***ing understand?” He punches my collar bone. I nod my head, trying to remove myself from his grip.

“Good girl, good f***ing choice.”

I stop struggling; it's useless to resist him because every time I do, he tightens his grip on me to compensate. I shouldn't have come here alone. I should've let both of them come with me. What have I done? Wait, 'our f****ng offspring'? 'Our'?

“You know, I didn't want to hurt you. You've got my baby inside of you; as long as they remain inside you, you're safe. Shame for you that I'm going to rip them out of you, with my teeth if I have to. They're what I care about. I'm going to finish what I started. I'm going to rip your inside out; then, I'm going to dismember each member of your 'group'. How does that sound for a plan?”

I begin to laugh. If I can distract him, divert his attention for just a few seconds, I can get at his throat. I still have my knife; a few seconds is all I need.

“What the f**k are you laughing it at? You think your impending disembowelment is funny? People call me f***ed up but at least I don't laugh at death; well, I do but not my own.” He loosens his grip slightly and this means that I am able to sink my teeth into his middle and index fingers. I can taste blood filling my mouth. I continue biting until he smacks me off. I take the two fingers with me. I crawl away; I can reach the rifle, it's not too far away from me.

He grabs hold of my foot but I can wriggle free because of the blood making the ground slippery. I grab the rifle and shot him in the gut. The shot at blank range blows him backwards. He curses as his head hits the floor. My shot went through his spine; I can see where the pellet came out of him. There is a crack in the counter. I toss the gun aside and wipe the sweat off of my face. I can't take the chance of him coming after me again; I have to make sure that he is dead for good. I take my knife and touch the point; a bead of blood emerges from the tip of my finger. It'll do for what I have in mind. He's not going to get out of this alive.

I put my blade to his throat. He groans and looks me in the eye.

“Go on, you f****ng b***h, do it. Kill me and be damned. Kill an unarmed man, that's cold,” I dig my knife further into his throat, “huh? You going to murder me for those b******s I obliterated. Do you remember how they screamed. How they screamed when I peeled the skin from their faces? When I ripped out their tongues? When I disfigured them? Do you remember? I get off to the sounds they made, the sounds you made.”

I punch him square in the face. He laughs which brings on a cough. He coughs with such aggression that blood spills out of his mouth.

“Yes. Yes, I remember. I remember everything you did. Now, you're going to suffer for it. I may have lost my dominant hand but I can still recreate some of the brutality you inflicted on us.” Connall places his hand on my stomach and looks up at me.

“You think you're safe? You are under the illusion that you are safe. It's a f****ng illusion. Someone else is going to rip you open for the pleasure of killing you. Kill me and my friends will come for you; they'll take everything you value and keep you alive to watch it,” he pleads, squeezing his bullet wound.

I move my knife down to his abdomen. He thinks that there is something that he can say that is going to save him. The bullet wound and the fact that he is coughing up blood proves that he is not long for this world. He is dead either way; not threat or bargain will do anything to change my mind.

I whisper in his ear. “I don't f****ng care. Let them come at me. I owe Linda, Max and Dave the blood of their murderer. They didn't deserve to die; you should've killed me when you had the chance.”

I dive my knife into his bullet wound; he howls and tries to block my hand. I pull it out and then stab him again. And again. And again. I keep digging my knife into his gut, feeling the blood bathe me. I keep going. He keeps laughing. Why is he still laughing? I can't stop now. I then move my target up, stabbing him in the chest and watching him gurgle on his own blood, the way Dave did. He deserves this. I am so hyped up on adrenaline that there is nothing that can draw me away from my intentions...until I feel arms pulling me back. I push back, desperate to remain in my position. The arms don't relent and they drag me backwards. I try to protest but I can't fight against it. I can't breathe. I can't breathe.

“Lex, Lex, snap out of it.” Jason's voice seems to bring me back to Earth. I look him in the eye; he looks concerned but also pitiful. I gaze at him. I don't know what to say; silence seems to say it much better than anything else could. My eyes wander towards...him. His final expression was a smile. A f****ng smile. I couldn't even get him to fear me as I took his life from him.

“Lex, please look at me.”

“Can't...Conna...Connall,” I stutter, pointing to the carcass. Jason looks around and looks back, sighing. He draws me into him and strokes me hair. “It is okay Lex, everything is all right. It's all going to be all right. It is over now.”

It will never be over.