Aftermath

were being blown in their direction.
    “Where the hell did you come from?” he heard Howard say. He walked into the back of Lorna who’d stopped suddenly. Michael wafted smoke out of his eyes to see.
    “Same place as you, you fucking idiot,” a voice he didn’t know replied.
    “Then why don’t you fuck off back there again, Jas,” Lorna shouted angrily. Michael could see more clearly now. There were two men he didn’t recognize standing in the street directly ahead of them. One of them, Jas he presumed, was carrying a rifle. He moved forward menacingly. Caron, Howard, and Hollis moved away. The other man held back.
    “Why did you do it?” Jas demanded. “You idiots, you fucked everything up.”
    “ We fucked everything up?” Lorna said, pushing her way to the front of the group again. “Last time I checked, you were the one causing all the grief. You were the one who tried to keep us locked up. You’re the one who killed Jackson.”
    There was a hint of emotion in Jas’s face. A momentary flicker.
    “I didn’t kill him,” he said, sounding marginally less aggressive. “He fell on his knife.”
    “And you expect us to believe that?”
    “I don’t really care what you believe. I’m not interested.”
    “Then why are you here?”
    “Would somebody tell me what the hell is going on?” Michael said. “Who are these jokers?”
    “This is Jas,” Lorna replied, confirming his suspicions and almost having to force herself to spit out his name. “And this other useless strip of piss is Mark Ainsworth.”
    Another explosion came from the direction of the burning apartment block, this time so loud and violent that Michael felt the ground shake beneath his feet.
    “So where are your playmates, Jas?” Caron asked, being deliberately antagonistic. “Are you two all on your own now? Have they all abandoned you?”
    She didn’t realize how close to the truth she was.
    “They’ve gone, useless bastards,” Jas admitted before adding, “and it looks like they’ve taken your places on the last boat out to your precious bloody island.”
    Michael reeled from what he’d just heard. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It was bad enough that he was left stranded here, but the thought that this callous, murdering wanker’s associates—probably the same fuckers who were responsible for all the grief back at the castle earlier, putting everyone’s lives in danger made it back to Cormansey when he hadn’t was unbearable. He pushed his way through the others and lunged at Jas, taking him by surprise. He grabbed him by the collar and smacked him up against the window of a health food shop. Inside, a corpse immediately began hammering at the glass to be set free. For a moment Jas seemed more concerned by the dead body behind him than by Michael.
    “Was that all your doing down at the marina?” Michael demanded. “Did you wreck all the boats?”
    “So what if I did?”
    Michael didn’t have a chance to speak again. Jas was too strong for him. Powerfully built and fired-up, he forced Michael back, shoved him to the ground, and aimed the rifle into his face.
    “Don’t be stupid, Jas,” Lorna yelled, trying to pull him away. Michael scrambled back up onto his feet, but Jas came at him again, this time kicking his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, flat on his back, all the air knocked out of him. Lorna forced herself between the two men as Jas went for him a third time.
    “Stop, Jas,” Ainsworth said, but his words had no effect.
    “Leave him,” Lorna ordered. “You stupid bastard, Jas. He’s got a kid waiting to be born on that island. You’ve taken away his last chance of getting back there.”
    “He’s better off here,” Jas replied as Ainsworth tried to pull him away. “The kid’s as good as dead, anyway.”
    Michael groaned with anger and pain and stood back up. Lorna blocked him, stopping him from getting any closer.
    A corpse brushed past Jas. He tried to load the rifle but his hands were shaking. Instead he swung it around and clubbed the stumbling body away.
    “You all think I’m some kind of villain,” he said, trying again to load and now looking around at the frightened faces staring back at him—people he’d called friends at one time or other before now. “I’m not. I didn’t want for any of this to happen. Contrary to what you might think, I didn’t kill Jackson either, I swear…”
    He stopped talking when the air was filled with another