After the End

Chapter 16 - Swarm

      The police had the house surrounded, an officer at every single angle, no gaps between each shoulder as they all moved in closer. Every few officers in the circle had a loaded gun; their weapons poised and ready to fire should it be required.

A shadow inside the home crossed one of the windows looking out onto the road, and Wayne stopped as he noticed men and women in uniform moving towards his house, some of them armed. He turned sharply, running into his dirty, dark living room where his son Jack had fallen asleep on the floor next to dozens of tiny green army soldier toys. He grabbed Jack's favourite rocket backpack and shoved numerous toys and clothes into it uncaringly, moving through the house as quickly as he possibly could.

He was in the kitchen when he heard his front door collapse, the heavy wood smashing to the hardwood dark floor of the hallway and waking Jack up. He began to cry and ran from room to room looking for his daddy.

"Wayne Mussard, you are under arrest for kidnapping. Come out slowly with your hands in the air," Saoirse called through the cold, damp house, a handgun out in front of her to warn the suspect of the threat he was under.

"Saoirse," Wayne grinned, walking into view in front of her with a nasty smirk on his face. His hands were in the air, and he still held Jack's backpack in his right hand.

"Put the bag on the floor, Wayne," she growled, refusing to lower her gun, despite the familiarity of the man standing in front of her.

He'd hurt her best friend so much over the years that she wanted to shoot him just for the sake of it.

Incredibly slowly, Wayne placed the bag on the floor, keeping his left arm up the entire time. He straightened himself as slowly as possible and grinned before he spoke again.

"Can I put my arms down now? They've started to ache," he mocked.

"Get on the floor, Wayne."

"Do I have to? It's not been cleaned for a while-"

"I SAID," Saoirse roared, stepping forward once with pure rage, "ON THE FLOOR!"

Wayne scoffed. "A bit of role reversal," he muttered to himself as he slowly knelt down. "Normally it's me telling you what to do."

"Get used to it," she hissed, fighting back tears as two policeman ran beside Wayne. They pulled his hands down and behind him, locking cold metal handcuffs on his wrists.

"I bet this is your favourite part of the job," he smiled, looking up at her. "The dominance."

"Why did you do it? If you wanted to see Jack you could have asked Naomi."

"My missus lost her baby, didn't she?" He shrugged, as if she should know already. "I told her I'd give her a son, even if it killed me."

"Oh, we're not going to kill you," she scoffed, "we're going to lock you away for a very, very long time."

He laughed as the two policemen pulled him up and carted him out of the house. Saoirse ran through the disgusting building until she found Jack and scooped him up in her arms. He began to cry when he saw her, because he knew that wherever Saoirse was, Naomi was going to be near.

She walked to the front door's now-open frame and watched Wayne willingly get into the police car, a smirk tattooed on his face the whole time.

"It's ok," she hushed into Jack's blond locks, "you're safe now. Let's get you to mummy."

* * *

Naomi had held her breath ever since she received the phone call and was stood in her hotel room facing the door, one hand covering her mouth, waiting desperately for her son to open the door and run towards her.

And then the knocks came.

The rest of the evening ran in what seemed like slow-motion. She leapt to the door, yanking it open so hard it crashed against the wall and dented it.

Jack screamed when he saw his mother, and tears began flowing down his cheeks as she swept him into her arms, pulling him to her cold body and holding him tighter than she'd ever needed to before.

Saoirse pushed past the officers and ran in, pulling her best friend and God-son into a hug on the black tiled floor of the hotel. They cried together and Naomi dropped to her knees as she held him, sobbing into the white and navy stripy t-shirt he had on, his gold locks brushing the skin of her face.