Written by Kay (TheCrazySide)
Chapter Nineteen
Zayn
Run.
After a while of standing in that empty house with nothing but the souls of my dead friends by my side, I eventually told myself to start moving. Louis and Niall had already gotten the idea and were probably long gone by now (it was hard to tell how long I’d been standing there) and I needed to do the same.
So while panic bubbled up in my chest, I began running through the house first, grabbing a bag and throwing in essentials: a change or two of clothes, wallet, keys, and the gun (plus a couple of other loaded magazines).
While I wasn’t able to be there when they’d finally done away with Rosalie, I figured they’d messed up somehow. Killing her in the mental facility she was stuck in was completely reckless and stupid. There were bound to be cameras of some sort or witnesses. Based on the amount of blood on their clothes when they came back, it was sloppy and disorganized. Not at all the way we practiced our ritual.
Eventually, I figured I had just about all I was going to be able to manage before I broke down and sprinted outside, checking out the window first to make sure no one was around. When I opened the door there was an eerie sort of silence over the forest, and something told me that couldn’t just be attributed to being completely on my own now.
Focus, I snapped mentally. If I was going to make myself slow down just to dwell on every little detail of my surroundings, I wasn’t going to make it very far on the road, especially if someone discovered this place and pieced together what had happened.
Once I’d cleared my thoughts, I realized I needed a way to actually get away. Unfortunately, that’s when I turned to unlock the SUV only to find that it was missing. Niall and Louis must’ve already taken it.
Cursing my luck, I understood that I didn’t have a choice but to go on foot, maybe hope that I could get to the highway and hitch hike (or at worst, hijack a car). Grudgingly, I thus began my trek through the dense woods, slinging my bag over my shoulder and walking quickly to make better time.
I couldn’t help envisioning the forest at night and all its horrors. I couldn’t help seeing myself suddenly as Rosalie, running scared and for her life through these trees from us, desperately trying to get away at all costs. This caused a little bubble of guilt to form in my stomach, and while I’d accepted that I wasn’t as cold as the rest of the boys, it was still a strangely foreign feeling.
I continued to follow a path I knew by heart that the car always made when we went in and out of the place, nearing what I knew to be a hidden road onto the highway. The only problem was: When I reached that point and heard the noise of cars whizzing by, I also saw flashing lights; a lot of them.
Out of instinct, I quickly dove to the right, behind the trunk of a thick tree. I took deep breaths in an effort to calm myself before finally getting the courage to peer around the trunk again and take in the sight before me.
At least three police cars were all facing towards the woods at the edge of the entrance, just barely avoiding blocking off traffic behind them. All their lights were on and flashing, and all their occupants were out with guns pointed ahead. In front of them was our black SUV, half off the path as if it had veered sharply to the left in an effort to not hit the police cars. Its occupants (Louis and Niall) were just getting out like they were ready to make a run for it.
“Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan,” one of the policemen shouted, gun unwavering. “Put your hands up and turn around.”
From my vantage point, I saw Niall and Louis exchange a fleeting glance, and it was almost like defiance morphing into acceptance. It was like they were saying goodbye to each other all of a sudden, and it became clear when they raised their hands slowly and turned that they were surrendering. They both feared jail, but they feared dying more.
“You’re both under arrest,” the same policeman stated loudly as his team rushed forward to handcuff them both.
That’s when I blocked it all out. I knew that it was only a matter of time before they went deeper into the forest and found the bodies of Liam and Harry, then looked for me too. In a way, I was okay with accepting defeat at this point, but there was one thing I had to do first before I could surrender. Just one more effort to make amends, and then I’d accept whatever was to come of me under the law.
Quickly, I ducked down, hunching over so as to not be seen. I moved quickly to the right, far down the tree line, until I was well away from the scene. That’s when I decided to climb the guardrail to enter the highway and flag down a car. Using one hand to wave in the air, I discreetly used to other to tug the gun from my bag, just incase I was recognized as a wanted man and had no choice. At this point, killing one more person couldn’t help nor worsen my case anymore than it already was.
Car after car flew by, and I was admittedly beginning to get frustrated when a white pick-up truck finally pulled over. Inside, was a middle aged man who looked like he belonged in Duck Dynasty. “Need a lift?” He asked, accent sharp, but British.
I nodded hastily, moving over to the window. “Please,” I said, and with a gesture of permission from the man, I hopped inside.
“Where to?” He asked when we’d pulled away from the side, further away from the scene of the crime.
I relaxed a miniscule amount. “Home,” I finally said. “I want to go home.”
It took quite a while to actually get to my hometown, a couple hours at least, but luckily, this man was heading in that direction as well. A couple times on the journey, he’d turned on the radio, and I’d almost feared he’d put it on the news where an announcement about my arrest could be heard, but he only listened to smooth jazz and classical, every time.
When we did finally pull up in front of my house, I thanked the man and gave him all the money I had on me (all fifty-seven pounds) for his troubles. It’s not like I would need it where I would be eventually going anyway.
“Good luck, mate,” he simply said in thanks, taking the money without argument. “Hope you get whatever you came for.”
I smiled faintly, nodding. “I will.”
And with that, he drove away. I watched until he was out of sight before turning to the left, looking at the small, cottage-like house that I once called home, so long ago. Inside was exactly what I was looking for, exactly what I needed to allow myself to be hauled off to the gallows.
Taking a deep breath, I began to walk up the stone path, finally making it to the worn, brown door. I didn’t have a key anymore, seeing as I hadn’t lived here in so long, so I rang the doorbell, waiting patiently.
When the door finally opened, I saw my mother standing there, surprise lighting up her face. “Zayn?” She asked, quickly opening the door. “Has something happened? What are you doing here?”
I couldn’t help smiling. Even with all I’d done, I still had my mother to love me. As sad as it sounded, that was why I needed to come back here. I needed to make sure that she knew I was sorry for all of this.
“Can I use the phone, first?” I questioned, and while she looked confused, she only stepped aside and nodded.
Dropping my bag by the door, I instantly went over to where I knew the phone sat in the kitchen. “Mum, the girls aren’t home, right? And neither is Dad?”
Her voice was hesitant when she answered, laced with nerves and uncertainty. “Yes, they’re at school. Your dad is at work. Zayn… what is this all about?”
Ignoring her for the time being, I picked up the phone and simply pressed ‘999’ before putting it up to my ear, listening to the dial tone for a couple of seconds before someone picked up.
“Hello, this is Zayn Malik,” I said before they could finish their greeting. “I believe a lot of people will be looking for me very soon. I’m currently in Bradford, at my parents’ house. I know that you’ve probably already discovered Harry Styles and Liam Payne are dead, while Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan have been arrested. I know you’re looking to arrest me too, and if you come here, I’ll let you without a fight.”
“Sir,” the woman on the emergency line sounded confused, but also concerned like she knew what I meant. “You’re Zayn Malik? At Bradford?”
“Yes,” I confirmed, just before hanging up. “From One Direction. I’m Zayn Malik and I’m done running, so come and get me.”
When I turned after the call was made, I knew I had five minutes, at most, before police showed up. I had five minutes to confess my sins to my own mother before I was hauled off to rot behind bars.
“Zayn,” she said, a little desperately. “What’s going on, love? W- what do you mean Harry and Liam are dead? Niall and Louis have been arrested? What’s happened?”
“Mum,” I moved forward and gently took her hands in my own, guiding her towards the living room couch, where she could sit down for this news. “I have something to confess to you. Something terrible and I’m sorry.”
Her eyes softened the tiniest bit. “I’ll always love you, Zayn,” she said softly, though her voice wavered as she looked at me. “Always.”
“I’ll always love you too,” I said, before taking a deep breath and blinking slowly. “All those girls that you’ve seen on the news? All the ones that went missing at our signings and concerts and whatnot?”
“Yes?”
“It’s because we took them… We kidnapped them Mum, the boys and I. We brought them back to this house we’ve got in the woods and… we kept them.” Before I knew it, everything was spilling out in a rush. Everything about how we tormented them and killed them, leading up to Miranda and Rosalie. How Miranda was broken quickly but ended up being the last girl killed. How Rosalie was the strongest one we’d ever had in a way. How the boys turned against me and went after Rosalie in the mental hospital. How I began to feel for Miranda and how Harry took her from me. How I took his life and Liam’s.
Every part leading up to where we were right then spilled out of me, and my own mother did nothing but listen. Her eyes got sadder as the tale went on and she seemed ready to cry at several points, but she said nothing until the end.
“I’m sorry you have to find out like this Mum,” I sighed when it was over, trying to block out all the voices screaming in my head. “I really am.”
“I saw the news,” was the first thing she said in reply.
“What?”
“I saw the news,” she repeated. “I saw that you and the band were wanted for murder. The rest of them were all caught on camera at the mental hospital, walking out covered in blood, running out before anyone else was back on the floor. They killed that patient, Rosalie, like you said. But apparently a nurse tried to stop them and they killed her too. Slit both their throats and ran without trying to cover it up. I knew, Zayn, I just didn’t want to believe it.”
I closed my eyes. Why did they have to be so reckless? Maybe we all would’ve gotten out of this alive if they hadn’t been. Somehow, I knew deep in my mind that that wasn’t true though. “I’m so sorry,” I finally said again when I opened my eyes to look at my mother’s weathered face. “The police are going to be here soon. They’re going to take me away for a long time. I had to tell you first.”
“Zayn,” Mum simply sighed, eyes now deep pools of sorrow. “You-”
She was sharply cut off my a harsh knock on the door, and a deep voice barking out, “Police! Open the door!”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
She smiled, despite it all. “I know.”