Flesh and Blood, Sian Rosé [most difficult books to read TXT] 📗

confirmed. The little girl watched with interest as Stella repeated her favourite move, plunging the knife into the spinal cord, severing it. A loud, painful crack filled the air, followed by Sienna’s desperate screams for mercy. Of course, they were in vain.

At the sidelines, Minnie and Ronnie watched, his arm snaking around her shoulders whilst she allowed her head to nestle into him. It filled the two of them with joy and gratitude to watch their offspring work together, laughing and joking companionably, working together to carry out little Flo’s plan. The boys stuffed the now static bodies into the front seats of the van, Zach turning the key in the ignition whilst Stella tended to the engine. Flo quickly inspected the van for traces they might have left behind, poured cheap vodka over the screeching, bleeding bodies, and then slammed the doors shut when she was satisfied that a thorough clean-up had been done.

The family, mother, and father, sons and daughters, stood in a group a few metres from the front of the vehicle. Arms around each other, a mutual feeling of warmth spreading from each of them into the next. It was the happiest, most contented that the family had collectively felt in a long, long while.

They were doing what they loved most as a family, and afterwards they would drive off into the sunset in their beautiful new motor home.

What could be better?

At first, the fire started as just a small orange flicker in the bonnet. Through the windshield, Sienna’s face was twisted and red, her mouth wide as she screamed and screamed. Beside her, Jared cried, his eyes swollen from all of the tears.

The delicious scent of burning gas filled the air, and black clouds of smoke began to billow from the van as the fire took hold. Soon, the windshield smashed from the heat, and red hot flames crept inside the driver’s seat, dancing chaotically in flickering spirals inside.

Reflections of the fire reflected in Flo’s eyes as a nasty grin tugged at the side of her lips. Her skin prickled with elation as she watched the terror on Sienna’s face and the agony that consumed the young woman as her flesh began to burn. She was screaming again, but this time it was as though her soul had left her body. Each loud cry was like nails being dragged through the skin, and they only got louder and more animated as the fire took its toll.

In silence, the family watched the young couple fry. Their snowy white skin darkened, then reddened, leaving quickly transforming blisters that glistened, raw and horrific in the daylight. Then, like coal, their bodies charred until they no longer looked human, and white smoke poured off of them like steam evaporating from a bowl of stew.

Sienna, Flo thought, must have been the stronger of the two. Even when her hair had fizzled out into nothingness, and her body was unrecognisable, she still yelped, using the last of her boiling energy to call out for help that would never come. She screamed until she died.

Transfixed, the family stood and watched, as if they were at a bonfire display, right up until the white sky began to darken, and the tangle of crackling flames began to simmer and gradually die. It left behind nothing but a broken, battered shell of the van, fragments of shattered glass embedded in the marshy mud. Two smoking bodies remained, black and crumbling in the seats; the stench of their cooked flesh still hanging in the atmosphere.

After a few moments, Minnie finally spoke.

“So, I’m thinking showers, and then we drive back to town. Maybe find a nice restaurant to celebrate at?” she suggested brightly.

The others nodded and murmured enthusiastically in agreement before all trailing back inside the RV.

“I fancy a curry,” Lloyd said.

“No- pizza!” moaned Flo.

“I want to go somewhere that does booze,” Zach interjected.

“We had pizza the other night!”

Minnie and Ronnie held hands and followed their children into the motor home, listening fondly to their chatter.

Chapter Twenty-three

Summer, 1999

Chicken tikka masala for dinner. Usually, one of Minnie’s favourites.

But staring down into the bright red glistening pool of sauce made her stomach turn. Anxiety prickled at the back of her neck at the prospect of having to get up and dash for the bathroom at any given moment. Morning sickness had taken hold of her like the tight, clamping jaws of a feral beast and was frankly whipping the shit out of her, along with the entire contents of her stomach.

“Oh Min, cheer up, babe,” Julie sighed from across the family dining table, putting her own fork down and cocking her head at her daughter.

It had been an entire three weeks since Minnie had last seen Ronnie. The police were still looking for him and regularly popping around at random times to try and catch her out. Detective Jones was convinced that Minnie knew exactly where the boy was and had tried almost every angle to get the truth out of her. But Minnie remained tight-lipped. In fact, most days, she didn’t even bother getting out of bed. What was the point?

She could, her parents pointed out, go out with friends. Socialise and enjoy the summer.

But how was she supposed to do that when she was apart from Ronnie? And now, bearing the weight of this incredible secret, how could she possibly go anywhere and just plaster on a care-free smile?

Minnie swallowed and glanced up at her mother. “I miss him,” she breathed miserably, her shoulders sagging.

Henry and Julie exchanged despairing glances.

“It won’t feel this way forever,” Julie said gently. “We’ve all been there before. Heartbreak… it’s a horrible thing; it can make you feel rotten.”

Tightening her grip around her own cutlery, Minnie scowled up at her mother. “It will,” she said snippily. “I love him, Mum. That will never change.”

Julie rubbed her temples and shook her head, “oh… you silly girl,” she tutted, “one day you will look back at this and…”

Like a tidal wave, all