by Kolin Wood
After ensuring that the cart could still be pulled and could carry no more, Juliana locked it back in the store room and stowed the key. It was a little after noon she guessed and the sun was high in the sky, shining down with a brutal intensity once more. A brief breakfast later, and with Doyle dropped off at his shelter, she made the walk across the park, in the direction of the road which played home to both Tanner’s and Doctor Ajid’s houses. Regardless of his incapacitation, Juliana had stayed living in Tanner’s for the past few days. It allowed her to be close by and also meant that she could ascertain Tanner’s belongings to work out what they had or needed for their journey North.
Dr. Ajid welcomed her with a warm smile as he opened the door.
“Ah, Miss Juliana, please, come on in.”
“How is he?” she asked.
“Hmmm, not as bright as I would hope in optimum conditions, otherwise we are doing okay… given the circumstances. I think the antibiotics are having some effect, although, they are not as strong as I would have liked.”
He smiled and Juliana returned the gesture. She was unsure as to his status as a captive. Although he was not tied up and seemed unguarded for the most part, she felt positive that—should he try to leave the Capital of his own accord—there may have been a gun pushing him back across the bridge. A physician of his stature would be almost impossible to come by, and that made him a most valuable resource. But, as she glanced around the nicely furnished house, she found herself thinking that, captive or not, he certainly had it better than most; at least he was fed and in the dry, away from the mud that hindered so many.
The room acting as the ward was situated on the ground floor at the front of the house; formerly the living room. By request from the Doctor, the huge bay windows had remained un-boarded and the room felt light and pleasant. It gave her an idea of what the house might have been like before all of this, when families were simply going about their daily business. The thought brought stabs of pain which she pushed away.
As quietly as she could manage, Juliana eased her way into the room. Tanner’s bed, a single cot, lay against the far wall. Another three lay dormant opposite. Given the violence of the past few days, Juliana had perhaps expected to see others filling the beds but then again, anybody with means had been either executed or forced to leave the Capital, minus any of their things. Perhaps, she had thought, execution was the more humane of the two options; it was hard to believe that any of them would have lasted long on the outside.
Tanner was already awake and staring up at the ceiling. A thick bandage covered the top of his entire left-hand side. A few dark spots of blood were hinting though at the front just below his shoulder. He smiled up at her as her face came into view and she smiled back.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, feeling a bit foolish.
“Like I’ve just been shot, stabbed, and thrown off a bus into a pile of shit,” he said, managing a laugh which caused him to wince.
Juliana chuckled. “Could have been worse.”
For a moment neither of them spoke as the pair looked at each other in the eyes. Juliana blushed and tore hers away first, looking down instead at his shoulder. “That needs changing,” she said with a nod.
“Thanks, Doc,” Tanner replied.
He groaned, moving slowly as he tried to sit himself upright in the bed. Juliana leaned in to help him but he shook his head and shooed her away gently. “No, no,” he said. “I got this.”
Juliana took a step back. He was right, of course. If they were going to leave the Capital, then Tanner would have to be able to pull his own weight, regardless of the aggravation or pain. Otherwise, the world outside would eat them all alive.
Finally, Tanner managed to pull himself upright into a seated position. Noticing the look of concern on her face, he reached out to take hold of her hand.
“I’m fine,” he said in advance of her question. “Just haven’t had my pain meds yet. They take the worst of it away.”
Juliana nodded.
“Did you manage to get everything we need?” Tanner’s voice sounded winded and it was clear that the mere task of moving himself around in bed had been exerting. He was putting on a brave face for her benefit and it worried her.
Juliana squeezed his hand and then let go, turning to walk over to the window. The sun beamed in and warmed her face. For a moment she simply stood there and closed her eyes, enjoying the small comfort.
“As much as I could fit onto the cart,” she said eventually, turning back to face him and leaning back against the cold, dead grills of the old radiator. “There’s enough there to get us where we need to go and then a bit more to start the trade.”
Tanner contemplated her answer.
“And Doyle?” he asked, a hint of contempt clear in his voice. “How’s the jailer doing today?”
Juliana ignored the bait. “Much better,” she said, offering nothing more.
Tanner frowned but did not push. A moment’s awkward silence followed. Juliana knew that Tanner had a problem with Doyle—he did not trust him, and to be fair, why should he? After all that he had done. But it did not change the fact that Doyle had tried to save her life. Besides, until Tanner was fighting fit, they would need all of the help that they could get on the outside.
Breaking the moment, Juliana pushed away from the window and strode back towards the bed. There was still plenty to do before they left; she had to keep moving.
“Right,” she said assertively. “You need to sort yourself out. Make sure the doctor gives you everything you need to deal with the infection and the pain. It’s a long way to the Refuge by foot.”
With that, she turned and walked to the door.
“And what are you going to do?” he asked with another wince.
She pulled it open and then turned back, forcing a half-smile.
“Well, I guess it’s about time I went to see my dad,” she said.
Tanner’s face dropped.
Clearly uncomfortable, he pushed himself even more upright on his elbows, his face harbouring a look of urgency.
“Juliana, you know that crazy son of a bitch can’t be trusted.”
She gripped the door handle hard, suddenly angry.
“That son of a bitch just saved your life!” she bit back, more firmly than she had intended. Even after all of this time, she was rushing to his defence.
“Seriously, Juliana, please, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“No, Tanner, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”
Frustration boiled within her and she struggled to calm herself. She was not about to be told what sort of a man her own dad was by somebody that had only known him a matter of weeks.
“Do you think that the apocalypse just up and created this version of him? Do you? Really? He was rotten from the beginning, Tanner. All the Culling has done is give him an environment to thrive in, a tank to pollute. This shit storm suits him perfectly, trust me!”
At that moment, Doctor Ajid appeared behind her in the doorway. “Everything okay, Miss Juliana?” he said in his softly spoken, bedside-manner voice.
Juliana pushed open the door and stepped aside so that he could see into the room.
“Everything is fine, Doc,” she said. “Just fine.”
She looked back at Tanner, took a breath and lowered her voice. As frustrating as it was, he was only trying to protect her, after all.
“He’s still just Dad to me, Tanner. You know? For all of his faults, through all of his drinking and fighting and problems, he never laid so much as a finger on me, not one. I promise you, everything will be fine.”
Tanner shook his head and looked away.
“Just make sure that you are ready, okay?” she said. “Let me deal with Teddy Braydon.”
34
Two pillars, complete with concrete lions wearing crowns, sat either side of the heavy-looking, black, iron gates. The house— formerly the residence of one Michael Farringdon and now Teddy’s new abode—s
at at the very back of the Capital, in a specially guarded area. To access it, you had to travel down a street which had been fenced off on all sides creating a funnel-like effect. Three, separate checkpoints, sat along the route. A man of the people indeed.
A red-faced Juliana approached the gate. A guard—still wearing the same luminous tabard—stood lazily and walked over to stare out through the bars.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asked, gruffly, as his eyes lingered on areas below Juliana’s face. “Mr. Braydon’s already got one in there. He didn’t tell me there was any more whores due.”
Juliana pushed out her chest and flicked back her hair, eliciting a groan from the man. She ran her tongue seductively around her lips and then looked him up and down in the same appraising way that he had done to her only a second before. She smiled as he reached down and rubbed his crotch.
“Mind you,” he said, as his tongue darted out of his mouth to wet his lips. “Now that you’ve come all the way up here, be a shame to waste such a fine piece of skank hole, huh?” He reached for a bunch of keys on his belt and slipped one into the lock with a clank! The huge hinges groaned as the gate was pulled inward.
Juliana waited until the gap was big enough and then slipped inside. The guard then closed the gate behind her with a bang.
“Only a quickie mind, Braydon will have me…” He froze as the knife blade pricked a small hole under his chin.
Juliana leaned in close enough to smell the lilt of his breath. “I’d suggest you shut your dirty mouth, or else this little piece of ‘skank hole’ is gonna open you up all over this driveway.”
The guard nodded, his arms straight out at his sides. He looked down his nose, careful to keep his chin as far away from the point of the blade as possible.
“You crazy? Braydon will crucify you!” he said.
With a wrinkle of the nose, Juliana smiled. “Let’s go and see then, shall we?”
The guards face dropped like a stone. Unable to move is head, his eyes darted from side to side.
“You crazy bitch,” he said. “He’ll kill us both!”
“Move!” Juliana applied pressure to the handle, bringing a yelp from the guard and more blood from the small wound.
Slowly, the man began to back away toward the front of the house. A large, ornate porch covered the front door. Round, white pillars supporting a modern-looking, slate roof. The door itself was far larger than a standard one. A huge, brass knocker sat in the middle of it. Juliana kept walking him backwards until they were stood right next to it.
“Knock,” she said.
The guard shook his head, wincing as the tip of the blade disappeared still farther into his soft flesh.
“KNOCK!”
This time he obeyed, reaching out with a shaky hand and banging the pommelled hoop against the thick wood. There was a pause and then a faint noise from inside.
The door opened.
Teddy was dressed casually in khaki shorts and a white shirt that he had mostly unbuttoned down the front. A thick, gold chin sat at his neck. In his hand, he held a glass tumbler full of amber liquid. His heavily bloodshot eyes glanced nonchalantly from Juliana to the knife to the guard and back again, finally resting on the guard.
“Well?” he said bored, as if whatever this was, was nothing but an inconvenience to him.
The guard was the first to talk.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Braydon,” he said, rushing his words, “The fucking whore tricked me!”
Teddy raised his eyebrows and then looked at her.
“Is that right?”
“Hi, Dad,” she said.
The guard looked from one to the other, the panic suddenly clear on his face as realisation dawned.
“But, I didn’t know, I swear it, Mr…”
Teddy put a finger to his lips, and then shook his head. The guard fell silent. He looked back at Juliana, appraising her up and down, but in a more paternal way, not in the same, slimy way that the guard had done.
“So you’ve bothered to come and see me then?” he said, eventually.
Juliana smirked. “That’s rich, coming from you,” she replied.
Teddy snorted.
“You’ve got your mother’s temperament, I see,” he said, nodding towards the guard who was looking at them both with a confused look upon his face.
Juliana shrugged and pushed him backward with a shove. The guard stumbled and fell hard, skittering in the gravel behind, “And you are still drinking at ten in the morning, I see,” she retorted.
Teddy glanced down at his glass, then raised it and took a heart swig. “Breakfast of champions,” he said. “Want one?”
The inside of the house was just as grandiose as the outside. Dark, marble floors stretched in all directions. Huge paintings framed in gold and mahogany adorned the walls, an unusual sight given that most of anything burnable within the capital had already been turned to ash. The furniture that remained was all large to suit the surroundings; high Victorian walls and ceilings pockmarked with an excess of non-working, LED lighting. In the middle, a towering staircase forked at the base, curling around the cylindrical foyer. Golden banisters twisted like tree snakes up towards a clear glass ceiling, now tinted brown from the rain. In the centre, a spiked pendulum chandelier hung down through the middle on a thick golden chain.
Teddy stood in the middle, spinning with his arms outstretched, like a sales person showing the house to a rich buyer for the first time.
“So,” he said, spilling some of his drink onto the marble at his feet. “What do you think?” His voice sounded lazy, and Juliana could tell from experience that he had already crossed the threshold of his drinking limit.
She said nothing, unbelieving of his arrogance.
“What?” Teddy said, a hint of exacerbated frustration to his croaky voice. “You not proud of your old man?”
Watching him gloat, Juliana felt her anger rise. She had thought about what she might say to him for so many years; lying awake, night after night in the dark, throughout the cold and lonely hours of her incarceration. She had come here with the intention of brokering peace—of putting the past behind them—yet now, seeing him like this, all the bitterness and resentment suddenly returned in spades.
“Proud?” she barked, walking over so that she was stood right before him. “I’ve never cared what house you lived in, Never cared what car you drove, or how much money you earned! Why did you never get that?”
Teddy’s face creased and he looked genuinely taken aback by her backlash. His mouth fell open and for a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
“God, you are such a pig!” Her face felt hot as blood rushed up in anger. She turned and paced away from him before suddenly turning and walking back. His large frame dwarfed her but she did not feel scared.
“I’d have been proud if you could have just gone out to work and then come home… like a normal person… Instead you were always at the pub, in the bookies, or sleeping it off in prison. And then after what you did to Mu….” Blood pumped in her ears and she clenched her teeth. “No, Teddy, I’m not proud of you!” she spat.
Teddy’s face curled into a hateful sneer; it was a face that she had seen introduced before a violent outburst many, many times before.
“You ungrateful little…” he snarled. As he spoke he seemed to double in size. “You never knew what it was like! I grew up with nothing!” His nostrils now flared open like a bulls. “I had to take what I could get using what little I had. And when I did, was that ever fucking good enough? No, because you know why? Nothing I did was ever good enough for that miserable bitch. Nothing. No amount of money ever made her happy! You wanna know why I always went out, why I drank? It was to escape from her!” The hand not holding his glass was balled tightly, into a fist and his eyes—heavily ringed with darkness—were wild and dangerous.
Instinctively, Juliana took a small step backward to create more space between them. Although he had never, in his life, harmed her, she had
not seen him in over ten years, and in that time, the world as they had both known it had collapsed. That kind of pressure can change a man, and a woman for that matter. Suddenly, Juliana wished that she had armed herself before coming.
Teddy noticed the step. He spun, hurling the heavy, glass tumbler at the far wall where it shattered into a thousand small, glittering pieces.
“Goddammit!” he shouted.
Juliana took another step away.
Teddy raised both hands up to his head and gripped it. Juliana could see the definition of his heavily, armed muscles through the thin shirt. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a few, deep, controlling breaths.
“Look,” he said after a few moments, dropping his arms. “I don’t want this.”
Juliana remained a few steps back.
“Let’s start this again. Come into the comfortable room next door and have a drink with me, will ya, princess? Let’s at least sit and talk like human beings, try to be civil with one another.”
For a moment, Juliana hesitated. Nobody had called her princess in a long, long time and the word stirred emotions inside of her which unsettled her greatly. Her eyes searched his face and she saw a flicker of genuine concern there, a softness that she had not seen since she was a child. Her hands began to shake and she put them behind her back, gripping her fingers together. Eventually, she spoke.
“Okay, Dad,” she said with a defeated sigh as tears threatened to fall and she blinked them away. “Let’s go and have that drink.”
***
The whisky burned, but not in the same way that the hooch did. This was far more of a mellow ordeal, a pleasant tingle in the chest and Juliana savoured the oaky flavour. In a world of basic provisions, any flavour was a good flavour. The chair was high-backed, worn leather and gave way to her like a silk pillow. Between them, a subtle fire glowed, warming her feet while drying out her mud-caked boots.