I grabbed the shotgun and headed out towards the front door before I stopped and looked at the weapon in my hands. Why did they have a shotgun of all things? It got me thinking. I headed back towards Michelle’s bedroom. There was a double bed against the far wall, with a wall-long wardrobe on one side and drawers and a dresser cabinet on the other.

  My phone rang. I put the gun to the floor at the door, walked in and answered the phone.

  “Bro, I been trying to get hold of you all morning,” Kian said on the other end of the line.

  “Well, it’s been a busy morning,” I replied as I opened the wardrobe. Lots of gaudy oversized clothes hanging in there with drawers underneath. I started rifling through them. “What’s up? You want a piece of this hundred million too?”

  “Fuck you,” Kian responded. We’d known each other for nigh on fifteen years. Faced worse together. “You’re on speaker. Charlotte’s here. She’s tempted.”

  I chuckled. I’d known Charlotte for the best part of eight years, as long as Kian and her had been together. She was a year older than Kian, a few months older than myself.

  “Hello, Charlotte. I won’t let you take me alive.”

  “That can be arranged,” Charlotte laughed into the phone. “Seriously though, how are you and Carmen doing? What are your plans?”

  The drawers in the wardrobe yielded nothing so I headed to the drawers and the dresser on the other side and started rummaging through them.

  “Trying to survive. Already had the neighbours come for the bounty. There’ll be more soon.”

  “You got people at your door now?” Kian asked.

  “No. Not now. I dealt with it.”

  “We’re on our way to yours. Should be there in about ten minutes.”

  “Don’t come here.”

  Unfortunately, these drawers seemed to contain Michelle’s underwear and nothing else. Having rummaged through a grown woman’s underwear drawer after bringing an unconscious woman home, I wasn’t really doing much for proving I wasn’t a pervert. Thankfully, no-one was around to see. On to the dresser.

  “What are you planning to do?” Kian asked. “Social media’s going crazy. People are putting your info out there.”

  “Who is?” I wasn’t on social media and I was careful not to give my information out to just anyone. Not because I ever thought I’d be in a situation like this but I didn’t want it getting back to my dad or brother. They would have been the first to get here and give me up if they knew where I lived. That’s the kind of people they were. Had they been here now, they would have helped Darren and Michelle.

  “Carmen’s friends,” Charlotte said. “I’ve seen some posts on her page asking if the River in the notification is her boyfriend. It won’t be long before people put two and two together.”

  “Has she replied?”

  “No. She’s not been online since last night.”

  I’d gone through all the drawers and the dresser and still nothing. The only thing I found of interest were a few bank statements and letters on the dresser – for a launderette, a hairdresser and a chicken shop. Cash-heavy businesses making a fair penny by the looks of it. That’s why these two never worked. They didn’t have to, but I had a feeling the businesses weren’t how they were making the money. I’d turned a blind eye to whatever they had been doing. I’d seen people come and go from their place at odd hours of the night but I’d never wanted to know who they were. I’d never wanted to get close to the neighbours. Maybe that was a London thing.

  Maybe that was just who I was.

  “You still there?” Kian asked.

  “Yeah, one sec.” I glanced around the room, the drawers, the wardrobe, the bed. Then I noticed the gap and remembered Darren grabbing the machete from under the bed. I ducked to the floor. Jackpot. I put the phone down and put it on speaker, whilst I slithered under the bed, and strained for the bag I saw. There was a box there as well.

  “What are you doing?” Charlotte said.

  “Huh?”

  “You’re moaning and groaning. If you’re in the middle of something with Carmen, we can always call back,” Charlotte said with a giggle.

  I chuckled as I dragged the bags out and went back for the boxes.

  “I’m in the middle of something but not that. Hold on.”

  I pulled the boxes out and then started going through them and the bags. The bag was relatively sparse but it had a revolver and ammo – shotgun shells and bullets for the gun. The contents of the box was surprising. Photos. Lots of them. Showing a younger Michelle, slim and smiling, carrying what I assumed was a baby Darren on her hips. There was a man with his arm around them.

  Everybody had a story.

  “Kian.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What do you think I should do? What would you do?”

  The line went quiet. I gave him the time to think as I grabbed the revolver and held it in my hand. I had no clue about weapons whatsoever. It wasn’t really a British thing. Not if you weren’t part of those circles or part of the army. Or armed police. The vast majority of Brits went through life happily never knowing how guns worked. We knew terms like barrel and muzzle and trigger. That was about it.

  Not for me anymore though. I guess I needed to become familiar with them. Both the shotgun and revolver looked easy enough to figure out how to work.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  “If it were me,” Kian said, “I don’t think I’d give myself up. Did you steal the gem? The Divine artifact?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then you haven’t really done anything wrong. I think, at the very least, I’d want some assurances if I gave myself up. Look, from a selfless point of view, giving yourself up would be saving the world from this…Universal Survival Protocol, whatever that is. But if it were me, I wouldn’t do it. I’m not responsible for the world and whoever this Pantheon is or the System, it’s powerful. Much, much more powerful than us and what do the powerful do on Earth? They don’t exactly look out for the little guys.”

  “You reckon they’ll renege?”

  “I reckon they could.”

  “People could die if I don’t give it up,” I said, knowing two people who had already died for the bounty.

  “Millions have already died across the world.”

  “What?” I almost spat into the phone.

  “Haven’t you seen the news? Thousands of plane crashes overnight when the electrics went out. Even more car crashes. No emergency services. Fires out of control. Injured people couldn’t get to hospital.”

  “They said it’s because of the Divine artifact. That’s why the System came online.”

  “Who cares man? They didn’t have to do that. Shit, if you can cut out all power globally, then you can also not do that.”

  “But it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t activate the artifact.”

  “Shit, man. You sound like you want to give yourself up. What’s the matter? You and Carmen been fighting? You trying to get away from her?”

  I laughed. So did Kian. So did Charlotte. His words helped. It wasn’t a surprise. People don’t exactly keep friends around that they don’t gel with. That doesn’t mean I wanted an echo chamber. Quite the opposite in fact. Carmen, Kian and Charlotte are the only three I trusted to tell me if I was wrong. But they were also the only three that would support me against the world if they thought I was right.

  “They put a target on your back. A big one. That means the artifact is valuable to them. Even if you’re giving it up, why would you give it up for free? Negotiate with them?”

  Negotiate? I hadn’t even thought of that. Was it even possible? I could call the System to speak to an Administrator, it had said. Kian had a point.

  “Do you remember the bench?”

  “The bench?” Charlotte answered. “You mean the one in Hampstead?”

  “That’s the one,” I replied. It was a bench near a phone box, down a quiet street in Hampstead that the three of us spent a lot of time at in our teen years. We hadn’t been there together in years but it was tucked away from unwanted eyes. It was a good meeting spot. “Go there and wait for me. I’ll be there within twenty or thirty minutes and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  “Alright,” Kian replied. “See you in a bit.”

  I put the phone away, and grabbed the bag with the revolver and ammo. As I walked out of the room, I grabbed the shotgun and shoved it into the bag. On my way out, I quickly checked Darren’s room as well. Other than more machetes, I found a bag of cash – probably around twenty grand or so in there. I transferred the guns and ammo to the cash bag, left the machetes and walked towards the front door, stepping over the dead bodies. I was able to look at them now. What’s done was done. Move forwards.

  I listened out to see if anyone was nearby and satisfied there wasn’t, I opened the door carefully and peeked out. No-one. I shut their door quietly as I snuck the few metres or so to my door, opened it and crept inside. I rested my head and breathed a sigh of relief. Operation Survive had been successful. Now I could relax a little. Only a little, mind. This day was far from over.

  In the lounge, the sound of the TV drew my attention and Carmen was sat there, looking at me, eyebrows raised, lips tight. My clothes were damp from the blood from earlier. I must’ve looked like a right sight to her.

  “I’ll explain everything,” I said as I put all the stuff down.

  “You better,” she replied, turning back to the TV. I wondered if all women had that tone. It took me back to my childhood with my mother, where she’d make me explain until she was satisfied with it. I sighed. Not from relief.

  I headed for the bathroom and removed my clothes, taking my cigs, phone and keys from the pockets of my jeans. I chucked the clothes into a black bag, hopped into the shower and washed away the blood and grime of my morning’s dirty work. I needed to be quick. I’d done what I’d had to but we needed to be gone. I rushed the shower as much as I could, and within minutes, I was out and in the bedroom. I’d found some jeans and a shirt to wear. Carmen had packed away every pair of jogging bottoms and hoodie that I had.

  I joined her in the lounge with the packed bags. The news was on the same channel as earlier. It showed 9:45 am in the corner. I sat down on the sofa, facing her and she reached out with her hands to touch my cheeks.

  “You look exhausted. Older. Worn down.” She wiped at the skin and cupped my face in her hands before letting go. I rubbed my face where she’d touched it. It did feel rougher, like an overworked tyre.

  “Probably just need a good night’s sleep,” I said. She looked sceptical.

  “Tell me everything.”

  I took her through all the morning’s events. The time-loops. Darren and Michelle. Honestly, it was some unbelievable stuff. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she got up and left me right then but she didn’t.

  “You killed them?”

  “I didn’t have a choice.”

  “But that’s murder.”

  “What do you think I should have done?” She had a mixture of love, confusion and discomfort in her eyes. Almost like she wanted to say what most people would say – murder is murder – but had to concede that reality doesn’t work like that. Context matters. Always easy to say things when you’re not in that position. I grabbed her hands between mine, looked her in the eyes.

  “I watched you die in my arms twice. I know what I did but I would do it again. To protect you, Kian, Charlotte. Everyone who means something to me.”

  She was quiet but she didn’t break eye contact. The newscaster cut through the silence. “…address is being shared on social media…” before Carmen interrupted.

  “Is this the right thing to do?”

  “What?”

  “Is this what you’ll become – we’ll become? Murderers?”

  “It’s pre-emptive self-defence.”

  She wasn’t impressed with my response. She pulled her hands away. “I’m being serious, River. How many people will you – will we pre-emptively defend against?”

  The room went silent, except for the newscaster, as Carmen and I looked at each other, thinking through what had happened and what might happen.

  “…across social media. Police are asking the public not to approach River Clarke as he may be armed and dangerous. The government have released an official statement, emphasising that the reward offered by the Pantheon will be added to the National Lottery prize money so everybody will have the opportunity to win it.”

  Both of us turned to the TV.

  9:56 am.

  “Again, breaking news. The identity of River Clarke has been released and his address is being shared across social media. Police are asking the public not to approach River Clarke as he may be armed and dangerous. The government have released an official statement, emphasising that the reward offered by the Pantheon will be added to the National Lottery prize money so everybody will have the opportunity to win it.”

  I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

  “Kian and Charlotte are waiting for us,” I said, standing and turning to Carmen. “I can’t promise this won’t get worse. I can’t promise that I won’t have to kill again. I may not want to. But I may have to, and it’s something I’ll have to live with. You need to decide if you can live with it too. I can’t leave you behind. They’ll come for you to get me. They already have.”

  Carmen was staring at the floor, as if she’d suddenly discovered a spot of grime that sorely needed to be cleaned. I let her take her time. We were running out of it, but I didn’t want to push her. I wanted her by my side. No. I needed her by my side. There was no worse feeling in the world than going it alone. Being unsupported. Unloved. I’d been there before. I could do it again. I didn’t want to.

  She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here first, then we’ll figure the rest out later.” She turned to leave the room. “By the way, I couldn’t wake her.”

  I looked towards the guest bedroom and sighed. “Of course she won’t wake up. Not like we’re in a hurry or anything.”