WALLED IN
DAVID OWAIN HUGHES
Copyright © 2013 David Owain Hughes
This Edition Published 2014 by Crowded
Quarantine Publications
The moral right of the author has been asserted
All characters in this publication are fictitious
and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead,
is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any
form or by any means without the prior
permission in writing of the publisher, nor be
otherwise circulated in any form of binding or
cover other than that in which it is published
and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchase.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-0-9576480-8-1
Crowded Quarantine Publications
34 Cheviot Road
Wolverhampton
West Midlands
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For Gethin David Hughes
“Welcome to my nightmare.” – Alice Cooper
Chapter 1
The cottage stood alone in a slightly overgrown field, its door closed. The bottom windows were covered in grime, and web-like cracks could be found in the panes. A few crows had gathered on the old slate roof. They were settling down for the night. All around smoke rose to the skies from fires burning in surrounding fields and towns, leaving behind a thick blanket of smog in the night air. Out of the smoke came a family of four, heading for the cottage.
Bryn turned the doorknob slowly, but the door didn’t budge. He had to force it open on its rusted hinges, before easing it open with the pickaxe handle he had found; he’d used it to club a few of them to death. Their blood clung to the front of his shirt and gelled his hair. He peered around the sliver of open doorway and scanned the big, front room. Nothing. Then his eyes fell on the fireplace. It was out, but there was enough wood stacked by its side to get the thing going. The place seemed safe enough for a few nights. He pushed the door fully open then called his for family.
“Come on, mun. It’s going to be nice and safe here.”
Bryn moved into the living room and headed for the fireplace. He found some papers scattered on the floor and threw them into the grate along with some wood. He pulled a lighter from his pocket and began starting a fire.
“Daddy, do you think it is going to be safe here?” Amy, Bryn’s youngest daughter, said.
“Yes, bach. I’ll get this fire going now, then we can settle down for the night. Where’s Mam, then? I thought you were with her?”
“She’s just outside, Dad.”
Bryn turned around to face the door, and saw Rosie standing there; his eldest daughter.
“Mam says she is too scared to come in, and that we should have stayed put in that barn over there.”
“Well, Mam is wrong. Come on in, Cariad,” he shouted. “It’s not safe to be standing out there on your own, mun. You too, Rosie. Get in here.”
“But is it though, Bryn?” he heard Cariad call from outside. “There could be someone in there. Like upstairs, for instance.”
“It’s fine, beaut, honestly. Now come on in.” There was a slight annoyance in his voice.
Amy watched her mother come through the door, and clutched Rosie’s hand. “We’ll be okay, Mammy,” Amy said. “Daddy found this cool fireplace that he is going to light.” Cariad smiled at her daughter. “But I think you should close the door, Mam, just in case there are more of them out there.”
“Good idea, Amy, bach,” Bryn said.
“Shall we see if we can find something to barricade it with, Dad?” Rosie said.
Bryn nodded. “I think just closing it for now will be good enough, gal,” he said then pulled back from the fireplace as the kindling and paper caught. A fire began to crackle and spit. Bryn put his hands up in front of the heat, and let his skin absorb it. The rest of his family huddled about him. “I don’t think we will have much trouble tonight.”
“How can you tell, Bryn?”
“There weren’t many of them out there, and I killed the ones that were.”
“There could be more though, love.”
“Let’s wait and see a minute?” he said.
She gulped hard, and bit back tears. Dawn was a few more hours away and anything could hit them before sunrise.
“Try not to worry, Mam,” Rosie said. “I think Dad is right; it’s quiet out there.”
Cariad nodded. When had Rosie become such a grown up? All brave and shock resistant. She was almost a woman now. Cariad could still remember the nights when she used to tuck the older girl into bed and tell her fairytales. But that seemed like a forgotten time and land, for they were living in a new world now.
“Such a brave young woman, aren’t you, beaut?” she said, stroking Rosie’s cheek.
“What about me then, Mam? Remember how I poked one of Mrs Caradog’s eyes out when she was attacking you?”
Cariad looked down at her youngest daughter, and smiled. “Yes love, you’re very brave too.”
This brought a smile to the child’s face. A warm glow that made Cariad think of their little house in Cwmparc, the place they had fled from in the middle of the night. Then she thought about the army, and the way in which they had marched through the small coal mining village with their guns and tanks; and how they had mowed down every living human in their sight. They’d burnt the bodies down on the old coal tip. The cindered remains of the dead had resembled that of a slag heap. Her father had worked that mine in Cwmparc, man and boy.
“If it had not been for me, Mam,” the young girl continued, “then Mrs Caradog might have really hurt you.”
“Yes, beaut, I know.”
“I hope Gwen is okay, Mam. Do you think Gwen and her mam and dad made it to safety?
Cariad didn’t know what to tell her daughter about Gwen, Amy’s friend. She didn’t know what to say anymore, about anything. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rosie got there first.
“Everyone is died, like. Think, stupid,” Rosie said, whilst poking the side of her head with her finger. The younger girl looked startled, and then poked her tongue out at her sister whilst making a ‘raspberry’ sound.
“They might have made it. You don’t know everything, Rosie.”
“You saw what the soldiers done, mun. They killed everyone in
Eglwys Street.” “Yeah, and? We escaped it.”
“Don’t be such a silly bitch, Monster.”
“Rosie!” Cariad snapped. “Where’d you hear language like that then? Damned Angela Gibbons, I bet, is it?”
“Sorry, Mam. I just…”
“Ha-ha! You had a row,” Amy ribbed.
“Iesu, God alive! Will you two knock it off over there. You’re acting like a pair of bloody babies, the two of you,” Bryn yelled, making Cariad flinch.
“Shh, Bryn, love,” Cariad said, holding onto his arm. “Don’t shout at them, mun.”
He looked at her; the shadow of the fire danced across his face, and she could see tears forming in his eyes. “Sorry, bach, I don’t know what came over me. I…It’s…just I’m trying to do my best here. Sorry.” He smiled at their worried faces.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Amy said. “We know how you’re feeling.” She smiled at him. Her plucky attitude picked him up slightly.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Maybe we should think about blocking that door then. What do you think, Cariad, gal?”
“Yes, love. I’d feel much better i
f we did.”
“Okay then.”
“There is no way of locking it, see Bryn. They could just walk straight in here.”
“Yes, I see. Take the girls and search the kitchen then. There may be a table out there or something.
“Will you search out there first?”
“I think they would have come in here by now if there was someone out there, gal.”
“Please, Bryn.”
Bryn took a deep breath, and sighed.
“Please.”
“Duw-duw, okay.”
He picked up the axe handle and headed for the kitchen. He looked through the narrow entrance but couldn’t see much due to the darkness. Anything could be lurking in the shadows, he thought. He carefully walked onwards, the shaft of wood held out in front of him. He bent at an angle, trying to see around the frame, but he was not very successful.
His heart smashed at his ribs as he neared the kitchen entrance. He kept waiting for someone, or something, to lunge at him. But nothing did. His heartbeat slowed as he stood in the doorway, scanning the almost empty room. One dishevelled table adorned the centre. Bryn’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a nervous breath. He turned to his family, all of whom also seemed to take a deep sigh of relief.
“Told you,” he said. “Nothing out here, mun,” he said, walking back to his family. “There is a table out there though, Cariad.”
“Shall I give you a hand to move it then?”
“Yes. Best we get that front door covered soon,” he said.
Cariad stepped from behind the two girls to go to Bryn, but then the front door burst open, and slammed shut. Amy and Rosie both screamed as Bryn rushed from the kitchen doorway over to the large man standing at the entrance, breathing erratically. His face appeared scarred. Bryn was about to bring the axe handle down onto the man’s head when the man spoke. He wasn’t one of them.
“Stop, wait. I’m not messed up. I’m fine, honest. Please, just don’t hit me with that thing.” He threw his arms up over his face and head for protection. He backed off, and cowed down by the door. Bryn could hear him blubbering like a child.
Bryn stepped back, giving the man some breathing space. “Dear God.”
The man looked up at Bryn with wet eyes; the horrid marks on his face were unsettling. “You won’t hurt me, will you?”
“No, I won’t hurt you.”
“I never thought I’d find…well…”
“It’s okay. You’re safe here with us,” Bryn cooed. “Why not come and have a warm, then?” Bryn offered his hand to the man. “Come on, take it.”
The man clasped Bryn’s hand and was pulled to his feet. He scanned the rest of the people in the room. “This is your family, is it?” Bryn nodded in reply. “And are you local?” he asked.
“Rhondda valleys – we were making our way down from there to try to make Cardiff, see,” Bryn said.
“Why?”
“We—”
“We heard on the radio that there were safe houses set up there,” Cariad butted in.
“Duw,” the man said. “You won’t find much in Cardiff. The place fell only hours ago. Overrun it is.”
“You came from there, then?” Cariad said.
“Aye, had to fight my way through it all, and on foot too. Couldn’t find a bloody car. Nothing but burning wrecks about the place. Do you have a vehicle?” he said. The nervousness had totally gone from the man now.
“No,” Bryn said, cutting his wife off this time. “We lost our car out on the main road there.”
“Oh, how is that then?”
“Ambushed, we were. There must have been a dozen or more of them out there on the road.”
The man looked at the end of the wood Bryn was holding. It was mottled red. Blood red.
“Had to fight them off. Bloody bastards went for my girls,” Bryn said.
Amy walked over to her father, and put her arm around his waist.
“And what’s your name then, beaut?” the man asked.
“Amy, sir.”
“Ha! Sir, is it?”
“My Daddy always taught me to be proper polite to grown-ups.”
“Well then, nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“What’s your name then?” Rosie asked.
“Eddie,” he said, looking over at the other girl.
Eddie walked over to the fireplace and put his hands in front of the roaring warmth. He let out a deep sigh. “Lovely this heat is. Not been inside a house for days.”
“How come?” Cariad wanted to know.
“Duw, let the man have a bit of warmth and relaxation first, mun, before you go interrogating him.”
“I was only asking, mun, Bryn.” She glared up at him.
“It’s okay, she can ask. Bryn, is it?”
“Yes,” Bryn said. “And this is my wife, Cariad. And our two girls, Amy and Rosie.”
“Nice to meet you all,” he said, nodding.
Bryn thought Eddie was tame enough. He was just like them: a survivor looking for a place to be safe. He leant the axe handle against the wall by the side of the door, thinking he wouldn’t need it. And now that there was another man with them, Bryn and his family had a better chance of fending them off, if more of them showed up tonight, Bryn thought.
“So how come you have not been in a house for days then?” Cariad pushed. She could feel Bryn’s eyes burning a hole in her skull.
“I had to leave my house, see. It became overrun. Not safe to stay in one place for too long. They linger, wait for you to make mistakes then take their chances. They like to hide in the shadows close to your home and wait. They can smell blood and fear. I caught many of them licking the glass of my house. They knew I was in there hiding from them. They were all over my home, like bees to a hive as they say.”
“They got in?” Cariad asked.
“Eventually.”
“Didn’t you try to stop them?” asked Bryn.
“Duw aye, I did. But there were too many in the end. They’re strong, much stronger than I first thought. They managed to rip the planks of wood off the windows I had put across them for protection, and broke the glass.”
Cariad looked at the man for long moments at a time. Something didn’t add up. He seemed unafraid, unlike when he’d first walked in. He fidgeted when he spoke as though he was not comfy by what he was telling them, and his eyes darted around the room. Beads of sweat had also appeared on his brow. What was this man, this Eddie, hiding from them, she wondered?
“So what made you head this way, Eddie?” Cariad asked.
“Well…I…I just thought that maybe heading out into the open would be better. Their numbers would be few like, you know?”
“Hmm, yeah.” She eyed him with distrust.
Eddie walked from the fireplace over to where Bryn and Amy stood.
“Well I guess that was a smart thing to do then,” Bryn said. “It appears to be bloody dead around here now.”
“Aye,” Eddie said. “Thanks to you and your axe handle.”
Bryn felt a swell of pride rise in him. “I guess it was nothing really, mun, you know? Looking out for my family, I was.” Bryn turned to his wife. “Isn’t that right, Cariad?”
“Daddy, watch out,” he heard Rosie scream, just before feeling a harsh whack at the base of his skull. The sound was hollow and empty. Bryn crashed to the floor and his face slammed the wood, loosening a few of his teeth.
Eddie pulled a straight-razor out of his trousers pocket and grabbed Amy by her hair, yanking her backwards into his flabby body. He put the gleaming razor edge to her throat. “Get over here then, bitches, and tie him up. If you don’t, I’ll slice this young whore open,” he said, digging the blade into the girl’s flesh until beads of blood began popping up across Amy’s neckline. “I suggest you move it, like,” he said. A smirk ripped across his face.
“Please, don’t hurt her, she is only young,” Cariad protested.
“Best hurry then, love.”
“But there is n
othing here we can use to tie him up with, Eddie. Please, just let us go. We don’t have a car or money. Please…”
Amy squealed as she felt the blade dig a little deeper. “Look in the cellar, over there.” He flicked his head to the left, to indicate a door. Cariad guessed it led to the cellar. “Get a fucking move on.”
Rosie made a move to go with her mother, but was told to stay put. “You stay where the hell you are, good girl.”
Cariad came back upstairs with a length of rope, which Eddie cut into sections. He then ordered her to tie her husband up with it, then her daughters. She begged and pleaded with him as she did so, only to be slapped and cursed at. After she’d tied her family up, Eddie beat her to a state of near unconsciousness as her daughters watched and cried. He wanted to make sure she could not go anywhere whilst he took care of a few things.
Firstly, he went outside and found the spare key to the house under a rock. Then he scanned the surrounding area for his brother. Must be held up, he thought. Eddie locked the door.
Secondly, he dragged Bryn to the top of the cellar stairs and shoved him down them. Two of Bryn’s ribs cracked in the fall. Then it was Cariad’s turn. Once both parents were in the cellar, Eddie went down and tied them to opposite sides of the room. He bound Cariad to an old stove, and Bryn to some pipes. Bryn hadn’t moved since he’d clubbed him. Maybe that blow had done him in?
He looked at Cariad. At her legs. They were slender. He wanted her, but then he remembered the two girls upstairs and started back up towards them, his excitement almost irrepressible.
Chapter 2
Eddie sat in the corner of the room facing the two girls. Rosie was dead. He’d cut her throat open with his straight-razor about an hour ago. He was just biding his time, waiting for the body to go cold. Amy was weeping silently under her gag. Eddie liked the fact that she was crying; it excited him. He kept an eye on her. On her young, undeveloped breasts. Every so often they would jiggle under her torn, Mickey Mouse t-shirt whenever the young girl had a spasm created by her soft crying. He just wished his brother was here to see it.
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