Ward Read online

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Thanks & Dedication

  Dedication 2

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  About

  C. Bilici

  www.debaclepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2017 by C. Bilici

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First Edition

  First Printing, 2017

  ISBN 978-0-6480361-0-4

  deBACLE Publishing

  www.debaclepublishing.com

  Author’s Thanks and Dedication

  I’d like to say a big thank you to everyone who has made this novel possible along the long, circuitous journey that it has taken to get here:

  To my early readers, who gave such wonderful insights and feedback and helped to shape Ward into what it is, namely, a work that I could be proud of.

  To those who gave me words of encouragement along the way, not just for this my first novel but in general where writing is concerned.

  To my wife and children, for putting up with my nonsense and strange hours, whether they have/can read this work or not.

  But most of all…

  This one’s for me!

  m/

  C. Bilici

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE ANCIENT STREET lamp cast a small puddle of pus hued light on the stone paving of the alley below it. Plastic cover cracked and yellowed, it was full of insects most long dead, though some flickered along with the electric hum. Others orbited the rectangular fixture bolted onto a crooked, wooden pole, threatening to knock it off. Not that it would make a difference. The light would be little comfort to anyone seeking safety. It barely touched the dumpster behind it, around the corner of the stained and graffiti covered brick wall of the store that formed one side of the alley it stood guard over.

  Hayley stared at the fluorescent light from a distance, her leg jittering. She had moved back and forth from beneath it all night. It was now more familiar than her own reflection, which she increasingly avoided as time wore on her. Glimpses of that ghost peered back at her with disapproval from the blank stares of closed store windows as she drifted to and from the lamp post. She used to spend hours at her dresser brushing her hair, talking on the phone at length, her reflection a constant companion.

  She dug at the back of her hand with her nails, the spirit banished by the pain. For the moment.

  The more she thought about it, the more kinship she felt to the old light. Her nerves were its electric buzz and flicker. The stained cover was her skin, complete with blemishes and crawling things.

  Hayley withdrew deeper into the shadows of her hiding spot as a small car pulled up to the beaten dumpster. Breath pluming in the chill, a figure emerged and looked about the dark parking lot before making for the far side of the dumpster. In the headlights, the person was reduced to a silhouette after a brief splash of colour.

  Shadows beneath the still running car seemed to shift. Hayley pressed her eyelids tight and rubbed at them. Sleep was calling and making her see things, but the other call was stronger. Eyes now clear, she looked again. Apart from the rolling exhaust smoke and projected darkness from the driver’s pacing, nothing moved.

  Braving the night, Hayley stepped from the shadows of the tree half way across the lot, its roots raised, the asphalt around it cracked, like something was escaping the earth. She avoided the reach of the sickly light, skirting the dumpster to sidle up to the figure, sliding along the the wall with a scrape as a lover might.

  “Sup,” said the young woman, raising her chin sharply.

  Hayley gave a small nod, her eyes glancing at the girls hands where they hugged her body. “Hey.”

  “That was some pretty Ninja shit. Out of the shadows, all in black and everything.”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Ninja drug dealer. Got my cash?”

  The girl handed over a few crinkled plastic notes. “It would be so much more convenient if you took card.”

  “Ahuh. For you, and the fuckin’ cops.”

  “At least you’d be warm. I’m freezing my flaps off. How are you not?”

  “Oh, I am. There are icicles on my fuckin’ nipple rings.”

  The girl leered as she nodded. “Pierced nips. Nice.”

  Hayley glanced up. She stopped crushing the bills in her pocket and gave a short nod. “Yeah.” Hayley frowned and looked around the young woman. “Who the fuck’s that in your car?” she demanded.

  “Oh. Just Tammy and my work buddy, Justin.”

  Hayley shielded her eyes and looked harder. Eyes now adjusted, she made out the second figure of the girl, Tammy, all in black. “He looks like a narc,” she said, focusing on the guy.

  The girl in front of her scoffed. “He’s just antsy because he’s out with two hot chicks— Sorry, three hot chicks,” she gave Hayley a wink, “and he’s afraid his girlfriend will skin him and wear his nut-sack as a hat if she finds out.”

  Hayley squinted at the guy a while longer, humming her scepticism to herself.

  “Plus he thinks she’ll smell the weed on him.” The girl bounced on her toes and rubbed harder at her arms. “Sooo… Speaking of.”

  Hayley blinked. “Uh, yeah. Here.’ Hayley pulled a baggie from her over-sized puffy coat. She watched as the girl unrolled the bag to crack open a corner and poked her nose within. She took a deep breath.

  “Ohh yeah, that’s the shit. I feel warmer already. Cheers, big ears.”

  The girl held out her fist. Hayley looked her over, dressed in heeled boots, dark stockings and skirt, and a purple long-sleeved blouse. Hayley’s track pants were fraying at the bottoms and her sneakers didn’t look much better. How different their lives had gone. She gave the girl’s fist a tap with her own which seemed to signal the end of their conversation as well as transaction. The girl turned to walk away.

  “Hey,” Hayley said. The girl froze, turned back. “How come we stopped hanging out?”

  “Uh… Well, you kinda dropped out of school, and off the grid.” She gave an awkward shrug.
“And it wasn’t like we were ever BFFFF’s or anything, yeah?”

  Hayley nodded. “Uh, yeah. Sure. OK. Have a good one.”

  The baggie crinkled as the girl waved it. “Oh, we will. Catch ya next time.”

  “Yeah,” Hayley said, her voice so low only she could hear it. “Next time.”

  As the car reversed and turned, Hayley put her thick hood up, pulling one side further forward to block the light. And her face from the girl she used to think of as a friend.

  She leaned back against the dumpster as the tail lights disappeared and pulled a packet from a different pocket. She flicked back the top of the cigarettes and, hands shaking, pulled a cigarette that was butt down, its dark leafy tip and white paper standing out.

  Her lucky smoke.

  Prying her lips apart, she heard the scrape of paper on dry skin as she plugged the hole. A satisfying metal click and the scrape of flint set the wick on her lighter in blue flame. Snapping it shut, Hayley blinked the new darkness and tear shaped phantom away. Nicotine and more started to work its magic. Pulling her phone, she tapped out a message.

  The dumpster gonged behind her as the flat of her fisted hand struck when the response came. “Fuckin’ arseholes,” she croaked out. She turned and kicked the dumpster, walked around it to the light, her nails working hard at the back of her hand as the gnawing within grew.

  Hayley bared teeth as yellow and damaged as the plastic wedge above her. She sucked in air with a hiss as a split fingernail drew blood.

  “Fuckin’ wankers. Leavin’ me here in the cold. I’ve got a right mind to…”

  It calmed her nerves somewhat to vent, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Drug dealers didn’t generally respond well to bad feedback. And it wasn’t like she could find a new employer. She would be cut off. Or worse, something cut off her. At least her lucky cigarette took the edge off the craving.

  She gazed around the dark parking lot and the sky, tried to distract herself. With nothing see, she took out her phone again and checked various social media accounts.

  “Do I want to check in? Fuck no.” She laughed to herself, took another drag, felt the drugs work deeper.

  With no product on her, she didn’t have to worry about cops now. She’d lived through withdrawal behind bars. There was no way she was going to repeat that experience, let alone add to her record. She didn’t even have a cool arrest story to tell. No undercover cops, or helicopters with night vision. Not like on TV. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, remembered when she used to watch those shows with her family. If only she could wipe the memories away as easily as the snot.

  They’d gather on the couch, her father laughing, mother admonishing him for encouraging such behaviour with the girls. Did he still laugh? Was her mum still telling him off? And her sister—

  She snorted in the back of her throat and spat a great gob of mucous onto the side of the dumpster, more heard than seen in the bad lighting.

  Arrested with a small quantity, she’d been let off easy, or so her lawyer had said. He hadn’t counted the toll she payed with her family. A couple of boys in blue had picked her up after a music festival, suspecting her of soliciting of all things. She had managed to avoid them at the admission lines when she and a few others had snuck in, escaping the dogs that sniffed like they were in heat at peoples arses.

  She couldn’t remember when she’d last been to a festival or concert, or who she’d gone with let alone who might have been playing.

  A laugh escaped her lips. Hooking. Not that she hadn’t considered it. Dealing, she’d thought, would be far easier. Now, she wished she could remake that decision. But that time had passed.

  People used to tell her she was pretty. That was before the drugs ground her down. Even Stacey, who she had known for years, didn’t recognise her when they bumped into each other at a pub.

  There was a time people would throw her free hits if she let them get their leg over. She even used to enjoy the attention. Then, after a while, she would need to get high just to get through it.

  Not any more.

  Not since she’d discovered ice. Or more accurately, she thought, ice had discovered her. Set its claws in, digging them in so deep her bones ached.

  The thought brought back the bugs again, and her itching increased as if the things were actually there. Re-opening a once crusted over wound, the skin beneath her fingernails became tacky with blood. She took a deeper drag of the ice soaked cigarette.

  Furtively glancing about, she tried to calm herself, to be inconspicuous. Nonchalant as her grandmother might say if they were still speaking.

  The insects in her skin migrated to her gut en masse, bringing her to a nauseated panic as they milled about. The pace of her walking and scratching became quicker. The tiny amount of ice she afforded herself for her lucky cigarettes wasn’t enough.

  “I swear, if they don’t fuckin’ come soon I’m gonna—”

  With a shriek, Hayley doubled over. Dropping to a crouch, she clutched her foot. Something sharp was digging into her flesh. And it felt deep. Like glass from the light cover. No, that’s plastic, her mind told her as it raced to find an explanation with a speed that surprised her.

  The orgy of insects moved from her stomach, taking an express elevator in her spine to the top floor.

  A needle.

  A needle that had been disposed of or put there for a victim like her. Like she used to hear about sickos doing in playgrounds when she’d been a kid. Stories had been thrown around the school yard of needles full of blood at the bottoms of slides, just waiting for some poor kid to land on, injecting them with infected blood.

  The bugs oozed over her brain. Their skittering legs turning great matter to ice where they touched. The thought of catching HIV, the one thing she’d somehow managed to stay free of so far…

  Breath ragged, Hayley shifted weight to her opposing leg. She pulled up the injured foot. Or tried to. Movement made the pain much worse. It rose, inching through her leg bone, grinding through the marrow.

  This could not be normal. Was she going into shock? Some sort of hallucination combined with her withdrawal?

  The bugs, now entangled in the crevices of her brain, whispered in her head.

  Maybe a blood clot.

  She’d heard just as many stories about clots as needles in parks in her years. Tiny globs working their way through arteries — veins, or whatever — to the heart where they would kill you in an instant, exploding your heart in your chest. You’d be found dead, open-mouthed in a silent scream, wide-eyed, having shat yourself.

  The pain intensified, snatching her breath. She had just enough air to let out a cry that caught in her gasps. She attempted to raise the foot again but couldn’t manage it. Whatever it was, it had crippled her with fear and pain.

  That was when her other foot exploded.

  All attempts at stealth were forgotten. She gave a hoarse cry for help that she hoped would be heard. Her body began to crumple. When the pain subsided enough for her to move, she looked at her feet. It had to be a hallucination. Had to be. What she thought she was seeing couldn’t be real. Shouldn’t be real. Her shadow covered the limbs, but she swore she saw movement.

  Wriggling.

  Like the moving shadows she thought she’d seen under the car.

  The bugs in her brain joined their cousins at her feet, starting their movements anew.

  That had to be it. Her mind had finally snapped. The drugs taking their ultimate toll. Or the clot was in her brain. Whatever it was, the pain and sensations of movement in her feet worsened.

  Hayley shuddered as she worked to straighten her torso. To move it out of the path of ruddy light. But her body would not obey. She remembered her phone. Her hands still listened, the congregation in her head not having yet touched their writhing, diseased limbs and feelers on that part of her brain.

  With a fumble, she fished out the device. Her hands trembled as she worked at the screen, desperate not to drop the thing.r />
  The speaker clicked after the first ring.

  “W— Where the fuck are you guys?” Her voice broke halfway. “I need—”

  “Chill the fuck out, bitch. We’re here.”

  Bright headlights swung over her before she was interred back to the shadows of the weak light above. A choked scream dribbled from Hayley’s lips.

  She lowered the phone, voice of her angry dealers barking from the speaker. Hayley he switched on the flashlight. She moved it from her line of sight.

  Then she did drop the phone.

  It landed face down on something with a sharp crack. Light glared up at her.

  She would have prayed, but her mind no longer held the capacity for rational thought. Even if she could have remembered the words.

  A mass of black worms wriggled through the tops of her tatty sneakers. Beneath them blood ran in channels through the gaps in the paved path beneath her.

  “It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real…” she muttered, her cracked lips now wet.

  Hayley didn’t hear the crackle of wheels on stony asphalt grinding to a halt nearby. Her mind heard but didn’t register the insistent honks of the horn. The animal noises her dealer and his passenger made, however, cut through the fog.

  She looked across, head rattling in shock. The interior of the car filled with muffled screams, whipping shadows, and blood.

  With a crack, a face smashed into the passenger window, pressed flat until the glass exploded.

  Jumping, head whipping from car to her legs, Hayley pulled at feet which would not come, sending fiery pain lancing through her nerves. The things sprouting from her shoes, the same things that had killed two grown men, rose taller. Coiling about her body, their touch sent her body into ever more violent shuddering.

  This, she realised, was the reason she had not been able to move. It had not been debilitating pain, but that she was anchored to the ground.

  Transfixed, she stared as the trickles of blood that flowed between the paving cracks became rivers, expanding at speed until she was sure she would die of blood loss. At least, she thought in relief, those things wouldn’t get her first.