INK: Red (INK Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

Nothing. Just a quick movement of the hand and you were a murderer.

I should feel more, puke up, fall into a heap, be a gibbering wreck. What's wrong with me?

He felt light-headed, almost as if he were leaving his body. This was wrong, so wrong. To take a life fully aware of what you intended to do, a crime against the preciousness of existence; one more person gone from the planet that now held so few. But these people were the ones that happily corrupted the desperate and the lonely — the takers of souls, the scourge that wanted to wipe the world clean of humanity and let it flourish without man's interfering.

It still felt wrong.

After all, maybe this man had been taken and indoctrinated just like so many others. Or maybe he fully believed in his new religion. It didn't matter, he was dead now. He had been a part of The Eventuals and they were ruining what was left of humanity. He had to do it, for those hiding in the dark, for those trying to make lives for themselves. For Kathy.

For myself.

Edsel prised open the fingers of the dead man and pocketed the knife still grasped tightly, then quickly ran up the stairs into the bedroom. In the wardrobe was a row of shirts on hangers — a reward for heinous crimes committed it seemed. He picked a black one, a short-sleeved modern style with distress at the sleeves and collar, slightly washed out, graying.

Probably done on purpose to make it look older. The things we did.

Gratefully he put it on, did up the buttons with ever-sore fingers, then descended the stairs and went to get Aiden.

~~~

"You okay?"

"Fine. You did it didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Edsel grimly. "I did it. Come on, let's go."

They walked toward the street Edsel had just returned from, getting closer and closer to the church. Edsel knew that the chances were high it would be mostly empty. There was a daily routine that involved them meeting there in the mornings and the evenings, but for most of the day there were only a few people present. The tattooists were usually there, giving The Ink to some poor soul, or grateful devotee, depending on the circumstances, and Bishop was usually present, checking on things, taking reports from the Ward he was in charge of.

Others came and went, but mostly they were out spreading the word, hunting those that could swell their numbers, tracking and killing any Whole they could find that didn't support their ideology. They were little more than a death-squad when you got right down to it. A mockery of a religion that preyed on the weak and unstable and killed anybody that stood in their way.

Well, not today. Today there would be a little bit of payback. The hunted had become the hunter; he would have his pound of flesh.

NEXT

"I could do it, I think. I could kill him through The Noise, like I did the man in the apartment building." Aiden looked at Edsel to see what he thought.

"I don't want you to, that was different. So was the man at the car, but this?" There was another Eventual, this time a young kid really, nothing more. He was just stood around, obviously charged with searching the area like Edsel's last victim, but not really having the heart for the job. He was leaning against a lamppost, doing nothing. Bored.

Kids are all the same. And look at his head, obviously had The Ink just recently, he's still scabby. Bet he has some nice soothing lotion and painkillers though.

Edsel didn't want Aiden to be involved in the killing if he could possibly help it — he found it hard enough himself to think about killing another man once the strange feeling settled in the pit of his stomach after the life he had just taken. It wouldn't go away and he knew it would be there with him forever. He was changed, he had taken a life on purpose, planned it, wanted to do it. It was wrong, but they were worse than the act; there was no choice.

There wasn't, was there?

"I don't think this is a good idea? Do you?"

Aiden shook his head. "No."

"You're right, it's not. Killing is wrong. I thought it would be the right thing to do, make it better, but I don't feel better after killing that man, I feel worse. It's wrong to take a life, so wrong. Maybe we should leave, just get away? Leave them to it? I don't know." Edsel's head was a mess, he didn't think it would affect him like this but it had. Was he just as bad as them? Was he a coward? Would all of this make a difference? Maybe it would. Maybe fighting back would be the spark others needed to try to stop the insanity of The Eventuals — already it had spread right across the country, the only real religion left in any meaningful number.

Aiden interrupted him. "If we leave though, they'll carry on killing everyone left, all of them. Women, children, everyone." He looked to Edsel for the answer, but he didn't have one.

"I know buddy, I know. It's just... the killing, it's like I broke the only thing keeping me being the man I am. Like I damaged what was good inside, and now... I don't know, what can we do?"

"We have to do it, we have to stop them. Some of them anyway. The Bishop, the one running it at least. And the men that give The Ink. If we stop them then it's something, right?"

"Yeah, maybe that's enough. For Kathy, for me, for you too. Come on, let's leave that kid alone, I don't think he's anything to worry about."

With thoughts in turmoil, the plan he'd envisioned no longer the straightforward image of him wreaking bloody revenge, with no thought as to how it actually felt, gone from his mind, they skirted the street and made their way closer. They left the boy to his idleness, a bored red devil in a street otherwise devoid of people.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, it wasn't supposed to make him feel so much. He thought it would be all bloody and vengeance-soaked, not full of emotion.

It really isn't like the movies. Killing hurts, it rips at your soul.

He'd had a vision of himself bringing down bloody retribution on such corruption, but all he felt was sick to his stomach for taking lives — who knew life could be extinguished so easily? This was what differentiated him from them though, right? What made him the good guy? He hated it; they reveled in it. Wanted it.

Better to be a reluctant killer than one that enjoys it like they do. That's got to count for something.

Edsel's head was a mess; nothing made sense.

No, this isn't right.

"Come on," said Edsel, grabbing Aiden by the arm, turning him around and beginning to march away.

"What? Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to Bob's, to somewhere safe. This may be wrong, but it has to be done, but I will not be responsible for the corruption of a young boy. I don't want you involved in this, it's not right. You shouldn't be here."

"But you need me, you need me to help you get to them. They'll get you if I don't."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take, but I'm not willing to risk your life like this. I wasn't thinking straight because of the pain, but I see it now. I'm as bad as them, corrupting children."

Aiden pulled up short, staring defiantly at Edsel. "I am not a child, I hate them too you know?"

"I know, but it doesn't make this right. No arguments, we're going. When you're safe I will come back and finish this, not before."

Aiden was silent, but he let himself be directed away from the hive of Eventuals, tracing back the route they had already taken.

"Bob?" asked Aiden hopefully.

"Bob," agreed Edsel, nodding.

Daft old bugger.

~~~

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I waited, but I really didn't expect you to come back for this old fool."

"You're part of the team now," said Aiden, running to Bob and giving him a big hug.

"You're awake," said Edsel, a statement, not a question.

"Well, yeah. Please, let me explain. I know what you must think of me." Bob suddenly realized something, "Hey, have you done it? Is this still the same day? Was it that quick?"

"No, change of plan. I'm not going to be responsible for the corruption of a child. Sorry, young man. Can we go to yours?"

"Eh? What? Of course, I understand. Can I please explain, about The Lethargy?"

"Later, we need to go. They'll be after us."

Edsel wasted no time, he went ahead and this time he checked there were no Eventuals waiting and in a few minutes they were back in the car, heading away from the city once more.

What was I thinking? What kind of man gets kids involved in things like this? The world is messed up enough already without making it worse. Damn, he should be out kicking a ball around with his mum shouting to him to come in for his supper.

Dark thoughts crowded Edsel's mind as he drove away from the corrupted city. Bob and Aiden were quiet, sensing the mood. Finally, Bob spoke up, clearly unable to bear it any longer.

"Please, you have to let me explain."

"Okay, go ahead. Look, it's not like we blame you, we understand."

"Really? Wow. I figured you would have gone ballistic when I... you know."

"Is it The Creeping?"

"I think so."

"It is," said Aiden. "I can see it."

"What? How?" Bob focused on Aiden. "Oh, you're Awoken. I forgot."

Aiden just nodded, clearly still smarting from Edsel's decision.

"I've had it for about four or five months now, but it hasn't been too bad so far. I can still do everything for myself, manage the garden, the animals. But, well, it just comes over me, like it does everyone I suppose. One minute I'm fine, the next I find myself coming back to reality and don't remember what happened. Usually it's a few minutes, an hour at most, and it only happens once a week or sometimes less often... I think."

"So why didn't you tell us? You put us at risk back there Bob, we could have been out on the street, or having to run from them. You wanted to drive!"

"I know, I know. When you came? When I realized you were good people? I thought that I had sort of a last chance. A chance to do something good, to fight back. I guess I wanted to feel useful before it was all over and I wasn't capable of anything apart from just being a vegetable."

"You should have said," muttered Edsel.

"I'm sorry."

"It's done, and I understand. The Lethargy has taken everything away from us, all of us. You wanted to do something, feel like you were rallying."

"Exactly. I'm glad you understand."

"Well, now you really can do something to help Bob. You can look after Aiden while I go back and do what I planned to do. Those buggers can't be allowed to get away with it, they simply can't. I'll deal with them. I'll do it for you, I'll do it for Aiden and me, I'll do it for everyone that lost everything. I will kill those men for what they did to Kathy."

~~~

Edsel pulled up outside Bob's house and helped unload the car.

"Promise me you'll look after him," said Edsel, putting an arm on Aiden's shoulder and squeezing.

"I promise," said Bob.

"And you," said Edsel, crouching down and staring Aiden right in the eye, "you promise me that you'll look after Bob, just until I get back."

"I promise," said Aiden, hugging Edsel. He tried not to wince as the boy clutched him tightly.

"Right, see you soon."

Edsel got back into the Suzuki and headed once more for the city.

SLAUGHTER

Edsel watched from across the street; it was quiet. It was still only early afternoon so the church should be relatively empty. He didn't kid himself, he was no idiot either, he hoped anyway — if the church was full then there was no way he would win; they would kill him for sure.

He knew that dealing with all of The Eventuals was also impossible, and besides, this was a tiny Ward, there were more of them all over the country. But if he could just get those that gave him The Ink, and Bishop, that would be something right? A stab at the red heart of their sacred institution. Their corruption of all that still held meaning in the world.

I must be bloody mad doing this.

He stayed still for ten minutes and nobody came or went. They didn't think they needed protecting: they were all there was. Nobody fought them; nobody had the will or the inclination. Surviving was all that mattered for most people.

So he walked across the street and went up the concrete steps to the front door.

I definitely am mad. I feel like they are all inside waiting for me, laughing at the idiot coming back for more.

The door squealed loudly as he tentatively pushed it open.

Empty.

He could hear chatter in the back, and buzzing. The sounds turned him cold even as sweat pricked his skin just like the needles had.

Edsel turned to a man of ice. He didn't think or feel, he just walked. He picked up a long machete from the weapons table and walked down the center of the once holy room — now corrupted, making God weep for the acts of his children.

The chatter was interrupted with laughing, and the buzzing stopped for a moment. Edsel stood at the entrance to the room and took in the scene before him.

A man was strapped down to the gurney, but unlike when Edsel was in the same position this man actually looked happy. He was shaved and naked just as he had been, and bent over him were the two tattooists. The man's feet were bright red and The Ink was already up to his shins. One tattooist was refilling his machine and the other was dabbing at the new Ink with a cloth to blot the blood. The man on the table was half mad with euphoria and pain, babbling about how he was humbled to finally become an Eventual and couldn't wait to enter The Void.

Well, maybe I can help with that.

Edsel became vengeance.

The room went silent as the man on the gurney turned his head —
no head straps for him,
noted Edsel morbidly — and the other men slowly became aware that something was not quite right.