Fractured Minds (Rebels of Sandland 3)

There were five soldiers, and so I added five skulls underneath their infamous saying. Skulls were a speciality of mine. I’d been drawing them since I could hold a pencil.

I gave each skull its own unique touch to represent its fucked-up member. To the far left was Tyler Evans’ skull. A thief, who went from pick-pocketing to grand theft auto in a matter of months, amongst other things that I’m sure were on his rap sheet. I put a black mask over his skull eyes to make him look like the robber he was. Menacing and ready to fuck over anyone who got in his way.

Next to him was Will Stokes, notorious player and all-round fuck boy. I stuck a cigarette in his skull’s mouth and made it look like he was winking. A nod to the fact that he looked friendly but would stab you in the back and do it with a smile on his face. Like all the others, he couldn’t be trusted.

To the far right was Devon Brady, also known as The Reaper. His skull design didn’t need much thought, a black hood and the shadow of a scythe finished him off perfectly. He was death personified.

I put Colton King next. The Joker wore his jester hat like a crown. The king of all jokers. But I saved the middle space for the most fucked-up one of them all.

Adam Noble.

The Psycho.

For him, I made the skull eyes slant to a menacing stare and gave it a tongue that hung out of its mouth, making it look like the crazy psychotic character that he was. I placed a skeleton hand directly underneath, giving the finger to anyone that looked up. I’d taken their shitty spray-painted saying and turned it into a monumental ‘fuck you’ to anyone who entered Brinton Manor from the Sandland side of the town.

Even though I was proud of what I’d done, I was still pissed off. They were using me as a puppet, holding the fate of my uncle and what he’d done over my head and dangling redemption like an irresistible carrot wrapped up in their evil. So I added one last touch of my own. It wasn’t visible from the ground, and if by any chance they saw what I’d done, they’d still think it was cool. I wrote the words ‘fuck you’ into each eye socket. My message to each one of them. They may have the upper-hand now, but I would beat them at their own game. If there was one thing that spurred me on more than anything, it was seeing a twisted justice served to Tony, and who better to do that than the masters of macabre. The Soldiers of Anarchy.

The whole wall now carried a hellish vibe, and I knew there wasn’t a chance that I’d failed in their task. I kept my lights in place and took a few photos to capture every part of the wall. Then I sent them off to the phone number they gave me. No message, just the images. I had hours to go until sunrise, but I was done here. Brinton could kiss my ass.

I packed my equipment back up into the van I’d borrowed for the night from Ryan. I fucking loved that he never asked me what I needed it for, just handed over the keys and even helped me load up my shit. He tried giving me grief over Effy, but one look was all it took to shut him up.

I closed the back door of the van and held my phone in my hand, debating whether to send Effy a text to apologise. But when my phone buzzed and I saw who the message was from, I went cold and headed straight for the driver’s door so I could see their response in the privacy of the van.

Once inside, I tapped to unlock my screen and read the one line text they’d sent me.

You did good. We’ll be in touch.

What the fuck?

That was it?

Hours of my fucking night creating their bullshit town sign, and for what? A few words that told me fuck all. What were they going to do next? Did they even plan on doing anything or was this some sick fucking joke meant to rile me up?

I threw my phone to the side, turned the keys over in the ignition and started the engine. Then I punched the steering wheel in frustration. Their message wasn’t good enough. I needed more. So I grabbed my phone off the passenger seat and typed back.

Is that it?

It didn’t take long for them to respond.

Like I said, we’ll be in touch.

I threw my phone back down and roared off, clipping the kerb as I went. I was over their bullshit. I wouldn’t do anything else for them until they showed me that they could live up to their promises.

I felt like I was drowning. The cold, bony claws of my fate were threading themselves around my neck like twisted ivy and I couldn’t breathe. In all of the noise, I needed to find my quiet. I needed to see her. So, I swung the van in the direction of the town, heading for the cinema where I knew they’d all be tonight. I didn’t know if I’d have the guts to get out of the van and actually talk to her, but I knew just seeing her face would be enough. It always was.

I parked up opposite the entrance, just as streams of people started to come out. I had no idea what film they’d gone to see, but when I spotted Ryan and Emily strolling out with their arms around each other, my heart jumped into my throat. She couldn’t be far behind.

I leant forward, as if that was going to give me a better view, and when she appeared, standing out in the crowd, I couldn’t keep the goofy smile off my face. That was until an arm landed across her shoulders.

I felt sick.

I wanted to throw up.

Kian had his arm around Effy and he was pulling her into him as they both laughed. She was looking into his eyes like he was a fucking rock star, and my bruised and battered heart gave up completely.

What the actual fuck?

I thought that little shit was my friend, but he was all over her like a rash, and she was doing nothing to push him away. Watching them was sending me further and further into the fucked-up abyss that I was desperately trying to claw my way out of.