After The Turn: Redemption

by Daniels, Melvin

  “Your breakfast is on the table” he said as he pulled on his brown leather coat, “I’ll be home soon”

  he locked the door on the way out. Like every other morning she did not speak a word to this man.

  The house had three bedrooms upstairs, each been split into separate living areas. Although one of them currently sat unoccupied. With a communal toilet and bathroom. Downstairs was a kitchen, a living room and a dining room, areas she was not authorized to go. She was not even allowed access to the toilet whilst she was alone, instead using a black bucket. She was confined to seeing the same mocha coloured walls for eight hours every day, a chain lay on the floor, attached to the wall with the intention to shackle to female occupants of the room whilst the man was away. Every room was the same, every house on every street throughout the village.

  She could hear a knock on the door of the people in the next room.

  “Come on McCormack, you are going to be late!”

  It was the same every day and like every day, there was no reply so the man headed down the stairs alone, she watched out the window as he walked down the path out of the gate and out of site.

  She sat down at a small circular patio table, brought in from the garden, and pulled the corresponding chair up close, for her breakfast. It was fruit and berries, accompanied by some hand-made yoghurt. The berries were fresh, the fruit was tinned. Apricots it seemed like that is all they had. The yoghurt was disgusting, she grimaced as she spooned it into her mouth, grateful for the nutrients but far from it for the flavour. But she knew that she should count herself lucky, most of the other women only got one meal a day, but this man goes out of his way to make her comfortable and well nourished, even if he didn’t get to eat anything himself.

  She finished her breakfast, washing it down with a glass of cloudy tap water brought up the previous evening from the kitchen, she got up and paced around the room. Ordinarily she would have brushed her teeth, but she was not allowed to use the bathroom until he got back. She walked over to a tall dark mahogany cabinet. It was made with beautiful craftsmanship; it was most likely a vintage antique by now. She opened the middle of three drawers. Inside it was full of paperwork and small files. She rooted to the bottom to find her notepad.

  She flicked through a few pages until she found what she was looking for, a detailed diagram of how she planned to escape, she had made a few plans before, but this could be the one.

  She moved to the window to visualise the plan. The house backed onto the boundary of the village. Halfway up the garden was a large hedge, which could provide a black spot, no one could see past it from the house, if she could manage to slip by the guard who patrols the boundary, she could attempt to go under the boundary fence.

  She put her hand on the handle to the window, she was about to open it but there was an almighty crash, on the wall from next door.

  “You fucking bitch”

  she could hear clear as day, as if she were in the same room. And then another thud sounding as if McCormack had smashed something against the wall. Maybe his woman’s head, the woman was helpless hysterically screaming.

  “Shut up you fucking whore, I’ll fucking rape you later you worthless bitch”

  McCormack is an alcoholic, drug using alleged sex offender, who had been due to be on trial for raping a young girl before the world turned. He had severe anger issues, which were only compounded by his need for his next fix.

  The door slammed as McCormack stormed out, stomping down the stairs, shouting back at the poor woman as he left, She wanted to leave the room to go to the other woman, to check if she was ok if she was alive, but she was locked in.

  Thankfully, she could hear loud sobbing through the wall, she could imagine the woman in the room next door, sat with her back to the wall, slumped, hating herself wishing she were dead. So, she decided to knock on the wall, she spoke loud, clear and most importantly calmly.

  “Are you ok?” she asked, a stupid question, but human nature makes people say this question even though it is obvious that things are not ok.

  The sobbing stopped for a moment, long enough to get a reply.

  “My heads bleeding” the woman said, she was very frightened,

  “Do you need a doctor?”

  “He won’t let me” the woman from next door cried

  “Tell me what happened?”

  “I, er” she hesitated “I took a bottle of his whisky, I was going to drink it when he was gone. I want to forget, I” she paused “I can’t live like this”

  She sighed to herself not wanting to hear it, but knowing what kind of man McCormack is, she had met men like him before but she had to ask, even if it’s just a comforting ear for this woman next door

  “Live like what? what’s going on?”

  It was a good job the walls were thin, or she wouldn’t have been able to make out the words from the constant stuttering and sobbing.

  “He makes me feel so worthless, and so ashamed of myself” the woman next door started, and then stopped

  “Let it out, talking is good”

  “He umm, he err..” the woman composed herself. “He takes me downstairs. Strips me naked and forces me to have sex with all his friends, two at a time sometimes, it hurts me” the woman let out a cry. “I feel so dirty, he keeps me in the chains so I can’t stop them”

  She felt sick to her stomach, these men are disgusting she thought, clenching her fists in fury she asked “Why?”

  “For his drugs, for his fix” the woman said “He sells me for drugs and drink, which his friends pick up or trade for, he knows they will pay it”

  She breathed deep before asking another question, bearing in mind McCormack’s previous life

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m fourteen” the girl cried some more “He says he likes that; he says they all do, that’s why I’m so popular, I make a lot of people very happy”

  There was silence, while she pondered her thoughts, her plans were changing.

  “I’m scared” the girl spoke after what seemed an age

  “I know, keep strong, I’m sorry you’re going through this, it’s not right” she bit her lip thinking “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Aubree, but my friends used to call me Bree” said Aubree

  “Listen to me Aubree, I am getting out of here and your coming with me”

  Aubree seemed confused, and rightfully so how would they get out of their shackles to start with? “What about your master? And mine?” she asked

  “I don’t have one, Aiden is helping me to escape, he isn’t like them, and you needn’t worry about McCormack, I’m going to put a knife in his heart”

  She was looking at a shovel leant up against the opposite wall, the shovel that Aiden had been using every evening to dig a way out for her, when the time was right, regardless of what consequences were in store for him. He is the complete opposite to McCormack. A kind caring man. Selfless.

  “Thank you” Aubree spoke softly, for the first time sounding determined, but still worried what was going to happen to. “Who are you anyway?”

  “I’m Chole”

  7

  It had been a couple of hours, the six of them were sat in the house. In the living room as if they were just relaxing in a social occasion, but the difference being no one was talking, the only noises coming from a dripping tap in the kitchen and the groaning of the undead, banging clumsily against the windows, trying to get to the warm bodies inside. The occasional huff and puff and sigh. No one talking, the silence creating its own tension amongst them. The clock was ticking. The longer they stay here the closer darkness will arrive. How long could they stay put? Danger was all around them. The dead kind and the living. The Knights would come and look for their people soon. What is to say there isn’t already some out there waiting?

  Marcus got up, muttering to himself. He took himself out of the room, furious he kicked a cupboard on the way out. More calmly Drew spoke to Omar.

  “W
e can’t stay here much longer, darkness is coming”

  Omar nodded his head in silent agreement.

  “If we can get out and get to our truck, just up the road” Drew pointed in the rough direction of the vehicle. “We will take you back to wherever you need to go”

  Drew walked up to the front window, pulled the stained cream curtain back slightly and peered out, the crowd had got bigger, the cluster increasing in size progressively. The reality was, the longer they stayed here the thicker it was going to get, the commotion drawing more and more into it.

  “How many out back Marcus?” Drew asked loudly his voice carrying through the house, to Marcus in the kitchen at the back of the house.

  “About seven hundred and thirty-two” Marcus snapped back sarcastically plucking a random number out of his head “And if we don’t hurry up out of here there will be six more”

  They decided between them that the front was their least worst option. And they must go soon before the mass got bigger. They sat back down to form a plan. All except Connor who just sat in silence, staring into space.

  “I reckon we all get knives or something and fight our way out, enough through a few layers of them and then leg it” Marcus suggested “Or, I can just take them out”

  “We need a distraction” Drew said “We just need something flammable; we have Connor’s lighter, and we have plenty of fabrics in the house”

  They all got up to hunt through the house for a flammable substance, all of them except for Connor, He just sat in silence, staring into space.

  They rooted through cupboards in the all the likely places, the kitchen, the bathroom. Looking for anything. Bleach, aerosol, alcohol or cleaning products. They emptied the cupboards pulling out every bottle they could find. There was plenty of polish and other aerosols, hidden away in a cupboard in the kitchen above the cooker, Tommy found a bottle of Russian standard Vodka more than half full.

  “How about this?” he asked as he pulled it from the cupboard, showing it to the others.

  “Yeah that would…” Drew answered but Marcus interrupted him

  “We are not wasting good Vodka” he marched over to Tommy and snatched it from him, unscrewing the lid, he took a large swig from the bottle, grimacing as he swallowed “We will find something else”

  With that Frances entered the Kitchen with a bottle of motor oil

  “Let’s get this done” she said

  In the living room Omar wrenched a curtain clean off its pole, exposing the outside world. The decaying corpses crowding around the window clawing at each other trying to get to the front. The sun was beginning to make its way down in the west. Just above the roofs of the opposite houses in the court. It was now or never, the horde out back getting increasingly restless.

  Omar and Tommy tore the curtains into strips and rammed them into beer bottles they had found inside a recycling basket, that was on the kitchen floor, not the kind of recycling that was expected but these are times that themselves, weren’t expected. Frances and Marcus had already poured the oil into the containers, carefully trying not to pour it over themselves. Covering the overhanging pieces of fabric with leftover oil. They had made four crude weapons similar to Molotov cocktails.

  They were all back in the living room, Marcus stood by the curtainless window, eyeing up the dead, he was excited the testosterone was building up inside him ready for release. Omar, Tommy and Frances had finished packing up their bags, with any other useful items they could find. Connor just sat in silence, staring into space.

  Drew was stood in front of a fireplace, not authentic, it housed an electric fire instead of a glorious open flame, leaning on an unauthentic oak veneered mantelpiece, he addressed the room. About the plan which they all agreed on.

  “Right, Tommy will go upstairs and throw a Molotov out the front window to the left, then he will repeat to the right” Drew began “If they move towards the flames, Marcus will go out first take a few out with his billhook, creating enough room for, Myself and Frances to get our heads out and throw further cocktails into the separate crowds, one to the left the other to the right”

  They nodded in silent agreement, Marcus knocked on the window, one of the dead appeared to make eye contact with him, although that was impossible. Wasn’t it? Marcus laughed and put his middle finger up at it, this side of him was disturbing he was far too excited to get out there.

  “We then punch through the middle, following Marcus’s lead, defending ourselves if need be, then we make our way to the truck”

  The group tooled up, Marcus threw his hunting rifle over his shoulder and pulled out his billhook, Drew took the hunting knife, Tommy had Connors multi-function knife. They didn’t want to use guns not if they didn’t have too, Omar and Frances carried the SA80’s along with a screwdriver each, not much use but they could puncture the skull of one of the dead. Connor just sat in silence, staring into space.

  “What is happening with this kid is he retarded or something?” Tommy asked Drew quietly

  “I think he is in shock or is experiencing PTSD or something” Tommy gave a blank look “Post traumatic stress disorder”

  Omar chipped in.

  “We’ll get James to look at him when we get back” he said

  “Who is this James? How many of you are there?” Drew asked

  “He is a doctor” answered Omar “He’s why we are here, he needed supplies and he mentioned there was a hospital here” Omar explained “He was right, the Knights own it now, that’s why they chased us”

  “Did you get anything?” Drew asked

  Omar picked a black rucksack from the floor “Not enough” he said putting it onto his back.

  Tommy opened the window and threw the first Molotov out to the left over the heads of the undead. It smashed on the ground a sudden fireball appeared vertically, it caught the dry grass on fire, spreading out along the floor. The dead turned in a slow clumsy arc, to gawp and walk towards the flames.

  “It’s working!” Tommy shouted

  The others were ready by the door, Tommy raced to the other end of the house and repeated the process, then headed down the stairs. Omar handed the SA80 to Drew and crouched down, he picked up the corpse of Steve, his friend. Omar made it seem effortless, as he stood up with the dead body in a fireman’s carry

  “I’m not leaving him here” he said

  Drew nodded, he understood, it was different times now, but the sanctity of life should not be violated even in death, Steve deserved that, and Omar and his people deserved a chance to say goodbye.

  Tommy arrived downstairs, pulled Connor off of the floor, and headed towards the door, the herd had dispersed slightly, enough Marcus thought, he threw the door open and instantly heaved into the skulls of two then three and four of the reanimated, taking them by surprise as they were headed in the other direction, towards the inferno. Drew and Frances threw the remaining cocktails into the huddles of dead creating a clear separation in the horde. Engulfing the dead in flame, flesh burning.

  Marcus was striking them down in no time. Making an ever-growing pocket in the middle. They pushed further and further into the mass. The dead falling around them in every blow of the billhook, one of the dead managed to break through, heading for Frances on the left of their diamond formation they had created. Marcus at the front, Frances left, Tommy right Drew at the rear. Omar and Connor inside depending on the others to keep them alive.

  Frances grabbed the ragged rotten man by his neck. Her hands cutting into its throat as it snapped at her hand trying to gnaw at her. The bile and phlegm oozing from its mouth was grotesque, she put it down. Stabbing it through the eye with the screwdriver, penetrating its brain, leaving it a mess on the floor. They were nearly out now, the others had joined in swiping and stabbing, killing the already dead horde.

  Finally, they were out, no more in front of them, they picked up the pace, leaving the dead behind, no point in hanging around to finish them all off.

  They got back to the truck
, exactly how they left it.

  “Get in the back” Drew ordered.

  First Frances jumped up and in, then Tommy and Connor, Omar passed Steve’s body up to them, and placed him on the load bed floor. His dead eyes wide open staring at the stars that had begun to appear in the early night sky. Omar took Tommy’s hand and joined them up in the load bay.

  Marcus walked around to the driver’s side. Shut the fuel catch and got in the cab, Drew joined him in the passenger seat.

  “Now what?” Marcus asked

  8

  They slowed to a stop as Omar tapped on the glass separating the crew cab to the load bay, to signal that they had reached their destination, they had to stop to allow Tommy to get down of the truck and open a set of wooden gates for them to drive through. They stopped and waited for him to close them behind them and then followed Tommy slowly down a steep narrow hill as he beckoned them forward.

  When they reached the bottom they slowed to a stop and parked in a compacted stone car park, Ahead of them was a huge grassy common with a little stream running through it, somewhere Drew imagined would be a wonderful place to bring children to play in the summer. Splashing in the stream or playing games in the field.

  The headlights of the pickup shone out onto a campsite, a group of tents, around five or six of them varying in size. A figure approached them, a man with a thick leather jacket, and a baseball cap, walking slightly hunched over, protecting his exposed neck from the chill of the clear night sky. He crossed a little bridge that connected the campsite on the far side of the stream and the area directly in front of the car park, the grass was a little high and he struggled slightly, having to lift his legs quite high to move through at any decent speed. He raised his right arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the lights. The guy seemed a little weary, nervous clearly not expecting to see a truck turn up.

  “It’s only us” Tommy called out

  Omar jumped over the side of the truck to intercept the oncoming man. He wandered in front of the headlights casting a shadow on the stony ground. Marcus and Drew spoke quietly between themselves in the cab.