Burnington Gaol

E L E V E N | Adeline

I grimaced as my eyes opened, the smell of stale water bringing me back to our dusty watchtower inside the old Burnington Gaol. I spread my fingers over the rough, prickly material of our couch, looking around our circular one-room living area. Dad was sat at the table with his wireless radio, scribbling something on paper. I blinked a few times, trying to put him into focus. He saw me stir and looked up.

"Addie," he said, his pen stopping mid-sentence.

He jumped out of the chair and perched on the coffee table before me.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, looking me over for injuries. I rubbed my eyes.

"Bewildered."

The memories started to come back. The hostages, Jimmy, our conversation... his death.

"He's dead," I whispered.

Dad looked away from me.

"Yes. The sniper shot him. I'm, uh, I'm sorry you had to see that."

Somewhere deep down in the irrational part of my soul, a dark blue pity swelled for him.

"Addie," he continued, "I need to ask you something. When you were in the diner with him, we saw him talking to you. What did he say?"

I paused, blinked. What did he say? Where could I even start?

"He said that he was framed," I said slowly. "That his brother was, too. And he... he wanted me to solve the case – to prove their innocence – before Frank was put to death."

Dad reared back, rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"You realise that he was lying, don't you?" He said. "They're psychopaths, the both of them. They feel nothing, and they manipulate people into doing their bidding. You must know that, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," I said, but I wasn't so sure. "But Dad. He looked so... so genuine, you know? I saw real pain in his eyes."

"That's what they do. They find ways to control people. Besides, there was DNA evidence to prove that they were guilty. It was an open and shut case. And I don't want you anywhere near such evil."

I nodded.

"Of course," I mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry, Addie." He said, sitting beside me and pulling me into his arms. "He's dead now. Things will go back to normal, I promise."

I rested my head against his chest and heard the beating of his self-assured heart. My mind, however, was anything but self-assured, and I felt it being pulled in every direction – a man was about to die, a man was already dead, a killer was still on the loose, I had the power to stop it, but wasn't really sure if I should, because the man who was about to die had killed so many before him, but if he was innocent then it wouldn't really be just, and...

I sighed, squeezed my eyes shut.

If only I'd never seen the Dawson Brothers clamouring over that great wall.

© A.G. Travers 2018