“It would seem that way,” James agreed.
Jeff looked up at the boy’s face – he was definitely dead. Jeff left the body and headed to the back of the barn. He’d spotted a pair of legs jutting out from a bundle of hay. Jeff waved James on to see what he had found.
“Jesus,” James said. “It’s Kai’s twin brother – Ramzi; neither of them more than sixteen, seventeen.”
The boy lying dead behind the hay had a hole in his chest – buckshot wounds peppered his guts. Jeff lowered his head.
“My God, it’s slaughter,” Jeff said.
He turned to leave, and saw the tears in James’ eyes.
“I knew these boys. Watched them grow.”
Jeff put a hand to James’ shoulder.
“Let’s check the rest of the place.”
Leaving the barn behind, they headed over to the farmhouse. It was an older looking house to James and June’s, made from brick and wood. A large wooden porch with a veranda graced the front, along with six large windows; three above, and three below, all of which were boarded up. Swinging baskets could be seen either side of the door, with blooming red flowers. Stencilled across the glass in the door was the family name – MacDouglas.
Jeff walked up the three steps to the porch, and rapped on the door with four stiff knocks.
“Siobhan,” James called from behind Jeff. “Are you here?”
Jeff could hear the fear in James’ voice, and feel it in his own legs as they trembled. He placed a sweaty hand to the doorknob and turned. It squawked, just the once. Jeff threw the door wide; his gun’s barrel led the way.
The long corridor led into what seemed to be a kitchen at the end. Jeff turned right, and was immediately looking into a large sitting room. A TV adorned the corner of the room. He poked his head into the large room, and found it empty. He called James on with his hand. Jeff eased himself and walked into the sitting room. Mounted above the television was a deer’s head, its eyes forever fixed on the wall opposite. Jeff moved further into the room. A solid wooden dinner table stood in the middle, with eight chairs surrounding it. A plush rug lay in the centre of the room on top of the wooden flooring.
Jeff turned and went back out to the passageway where James was waiting.
“Anything?” he mouthed.
Jeff shook his head then signalled James to follow him. A room branched off to the left of the corridor – another sitting room, but much smaller. Books lined the walls, and there was no TV. A rocking chair, with a long shafted lamp standing over it, was in one corner of the room. A grandfather clock standing against one of the walls ticking heavily gave Jeff the creeps. He’d never liked those clocks, not since he was a child. Like the first living room, this one appeared undisturbed.
“Where are the rest of them?” James whispered.
Jeff shrugged, not wanting to tell James that he thought the whole family was dead – why else would the front door have been left unlocked?
Jeff walked the length of the passageway into the kitchen. He expected to see the kitchen dripping red with blood. Maybe the wife, Siobhan, lying dead on the floor with her remaining sons, but he was wrong. The room had a disinfectant smell to it. The floor seemed freshly mopped, the appliances gleaming. The windows were boarded up. Jeff lowered his gun and turned to James, who had the gun down by his side.
“Now what?” James asked.
“I…” Jeff started.
A low groan – like wood on wood – penetrated the ceiling. Something was upstairs.
Jeff faced James his face ashen. His jaw hung loose. He was about to say something, but stopped himself. He listened again to that awful noise – creak, creak, creak, creak…
Jeff looked at the ceiling; the sound was intensifying, “Best we check it out,” he told James.
At the foot of the stairs heading to the second floor, James took the lead. His heavy boots made the bare steps groan as he climbed. Jeff stayed close behind. Neither man used the banister. At the top of the stairs they were faced with a short corridor with two closed doors off it, and one that stood ajar – they went to that one first, thinking the noise was coming from there. James stifled the need to call out.
The intended door had brightly coloured tiles on it, spelling out Angus. James halted Jeff and entered the room alone. Jeff waited on the landing, about to head over to one of the closed doors when James came back out of the room – his face ashen. He pinched either sides of his nose, trying to stop the tears that were now spilling down his cheeks.
“What…” Jeff began, walking over to where James stood. Over James’ shoulder Jeff could see into the dusky room: the baby blue wallpaper behind the cot was mottled with a brown, yellow colour. The carousel too.
“Don’t go in there,” James whispered. “For God’s sake, don’t. He was so…so…little, just a baby.”
“Jesus,” Jeff said.
The creaking became louder now. Jeff headed over to one of the shut doors, leaving James to try and gather himself. He picked the closed door to the left, convinced the noise was coming from that room. He slowly pushed the handle down…creak…creak…creak...
With the door open, Jeff just stood and watched the scene before him: someone was sitting in a rocking chair – creak, creak, creak. Two heads peered over the top of the seat; one of the faces looked directly at Jeff, the eyes unblinking, dead. They reminded Jeff of the mounted head down in the living room. The other person in the chair appeared to be brushing the hair of the lifeless person.
As Jeff moved closer to the rocker, the living person began to sing. It was a female voice, and the song that came out was disjointed, as if the person was being throttled at the same time. It was a song Jeff knew only too well, as his mother used to sing it to him, “Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird.”
Jeff raised his weapon. The singing stopped, as did the rocking. Jeff swallowed hard. The person rose out of the seat, slowly. The sight of cords hanging from the stump of the decapitated head the person was holding made Jeff violently retch.
He dropped his gun and collapsed to his knees. Tears stung his eyes, and he could just about make out the person, coming closer…
Just then, James stepped into the room and was horrified at the sight of Siobhan’s face, which seemed knotted with agony. Welts and sores decorated her once pretty face and cheeks. Her lower lip sagged, but her jaw seemed strong. Her eyes had lost their stunning emerald colour, and were now replaced by a pearl white.
James saw Jeff immobilized on the floor. A small pool of vomit had gathered under him. James raised his gun, and was about to shoot Siobhan when suddenly the door closed on him, pushing him sideways. His legs tangled with the bed. James flew over it, crashing to the floor the other side.
Before he could get up, Clyde was on him, scooping James’ big frame up as if he were a doll. Clyde pinned him to the wall; James’ feet dangled off the ground. He struggled like a fly caught in a spiderweb, but he couldn’t break Clyde’s grip. He’d dropped his gun.
James became dizzy as the hands around his throat tightened. He thrashed his legs and aimed for Clyde’s groin with his foot. It connected once or twice, but nothing. There was only one thing left to do. James pushed his thumbs deep into Clyde’s eyes, forcing them back into the brain. Clyde let go, and James fell to the floor. He reached for the shotgun as Clyde staggered around the room, crashing into things, holding his eyes as the agony coursed through him.
James looked over to Jeff to find Siobhan had somehow jumped on his back – her fingers were in Jeff’s mouth. The head she had been holding was nowhere to be seen.
James went right up close to Clyde, placed the barrel of his shotgun to the lad’s chest, and pulled the trigger. Clyde screeched as he was blown backwards into the wardrobe. Blood spilled out of the wound and soaked his Clyde’s checked shirt. He was dead.
James rushed over to Jeff, who was yelling and screaming for help, as he danced around the room with Siobhan on his back. She was
screeching and snarling as Jeff tried shaking her free. But she stuck to Jeff as though she was glued to him. Her one flailing arm smacked James in the face, sending him backwards and causing his nose to bleed.
Jeff forced her back into the chest of drawers, which had a vanity mirror on it. The sound of the glass shattering was deafening; Siobhan screamed out in agony. Jeff tried to call out to James, but he couldn’t get his words around her fingers, which had curled around his tongue, trying to rip the organ from his head. He resorted to biting down on her mushy digits, managing to bite one off completely. She fell off him, and Jeff spat the offending finger from his mouth.
He issued her a boot to the face, which snapped her head sideways.
James and Jeff stood over the unconscious woman, knowing they could not leave her alive.
“Who’s he?” Jeff asked, pointing to Clyde.
“The eldest son,” James said.
“So that’s the whole family dead?” Jeff asked.
Siobhan started to stir on the floor.
“Yes. Do you want to do it?”
“Not really, but what choice do we have? One of us has to – we can’t let her live.”
Jeff picked up his gun, and took aim.
*
Neither of them said a word on their way across the fields to James’ house. They were exhausted, not to mention horrified at what they had found over at Andrew’s place. Jeff was glad to see his sister’s farm come into view – he needed something stiff to drink. Tomorrow they had to leave Britain and never return. There was nothing left on this rock they called an island but the dead and the diseased. Life here was finished.
Chapter 17
Jeff was the one to tell June and Maria what had happened over at the MacDouglas farm – James would have been happy enough to have left it there, to have told the women nothing. Jeff, on the other hand, felt he had to relay his information. He couldn’t just keep them out of the loop.
Jeff poured himself a shot of James’ whisky with trembling hands. Downed it, and refilled. He did that three times before he could utter a syllable. June was mortified to learn about the MacDouglas boys and their mother – Maria not so much. Jeff told them everything at the kitchen table, without Dafydd and Amy present – they’d been sent to the living room again while the adults spoke.
“We need to leave first thing in the morning,” Jeff said.
“But…but, we haven’t had time to gather up everything here that we could use,” June said.
“Then I suggest we all start getting it together now and loading the plane. First light I want us all out of here,” Jeff said.
“And go to North Ronaldson?” James asked.
“No, South Ronaldson,” Jeff said. “I think we should take our chances with the Captain and his dubious outpost.”
“Dubious?” Maria said. “Then why the hell do you want to take us out there, Jeff?”
“What options do we have, Maria, hmm? Think about it? We’re walled in, trapped.”
“What about that wee island you were on about yesterday, Jeff?” June asked.
“I don’t know if we can take that chance. We’d be all alone out there. What if something should happen? We have Amy and Dafydd to think about too,” Jeff argued.
“But…” Maria tried.
“Besides, if the army do want harm us, we can always take the plane and leave,” Jeff said. “Now, I think we should pack everything up, load the plane, and leave at first light.”
James was keen on the plan, and was happy enough to support it. After all, Jeff had come this far, and not just on his own. He’d survived scores of attacks and had brought survivors with him. Maria and June also agreed it was a good idea to make for South Ronaldson at first light.
“While you pack up here,” Jeff said, “I’m going to take the plane over to the MacDouglas farm, and fill it up with petrol. I should be able to land right by the tankers Andrew has over there”
“Wait,” James said. “Are you mad? You can’t go back over there, not after what happened earlier.”
“I have to. We need that plane as full as we can get it. Do you have any empty petrol cans here I can take with me? I may as well get as much as I can.”
“Yes I do,” James said. “Why don’t we leave it, Jeff?”
“You don’t have to come with me, James. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Then I’ll come with you,” Maria said.
Jeff turned to her, “Good. You can fill the cans as I fill the plane.”
June lowered her head, scared for her brother’s safety, and that of Maria. She knew she couldn’t talk him out of going back over there.
“Just be careful,” June said. “We’ll have everything ready to load into the plane by the time you get back. Then I’ll make us all something nice to eat.” She smiled at her brother. James put an arm around his wife.
“I’ll come if you want me to,” James said.
“No, it’s fine,” Jeff said. “It would be great if you could show me to those petrol cans of yours, though, James.”
“Of course,” James said, and led Jeff and Maria out to the barn at the side of the house.
*
June and James watched the plane take off from their field – Jeff had promised that he and Maria would not be any longer than an hour, maximum. Once the plane was out of sight, June set about taking tinned food out of the cabinets and boxing it.
James went in to Dafydd and Amy, who were sitting in the living room talking. Gypsy was lying on Amy’s lap.
“He went back there, didn’t he?” Dafydd said.
James nodded.
Amy looked up from stroking Gyps.
“Why?”
“To get more fuel for the plane, boy.”
“But we had some stored in the plane, like.” Dafydd said.
“I know, but he wants to make sure we have enough.”
“How come you never went with him, then?” Dafydd said, with a smirk on his face.
“Because Maria offered to go…”
“Maria?” Amy said, panic all over her innocent face.
“Yes, but it’s going to be alright. There is nothing over there that can harm them.”
“So why didn’t you go with Jeff then, James?” Dafydd said again, cockiness in his tone.
“I told you, Maria offered to go with him, now leave it at that, boy.” James said, sitting down beside Amy and stroking Gyps. “Good girl,” he said. “Good girl.”
“So what do we do now? Sit and wait for them to get back, is it?” Dafydd said. He could hear June out in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards and drawers.
“Yes, well, no. We need to pack up all our stuff, and get it out into the kitchen before Jeff and Maria get back, so that we can just get everything we can onto the plane. We’ll be leaving when it gets light.”
“I don’t want to go. I like it here,” Amy said.
“But where we’re going, lass, we’ll be safe for good.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the army will look after us, and if they don’t, we will leave for another island.”
The child looked down at Gypsy, and the dog licked her cheek.
“Can Gypsy come too?”
James chuckled, then said, “Well, of course she can. We can’t go leaving old Gyp behind, now can we?” He laughed some more.
*
June smiled upon hearing her husband laughing and chatting to the children in the other room. She went to the pantry and dug out four large cardboard boxes to pack away some canned goods. She tried not to think of her brother and Maria as she boxed stuff up.
She opened the doors to the cupboard above the sink and took down all the cans two by two until the left side was empty. On the right, she took all the dry food in packets.
Then she turned on the drawers under the sink, and looked for other things that would be of use to them. There was nothing but cutlery. And in the cupboards, only detergents and cleaning fluids. June looked to
the cooking surface, where she spied the knife block. She withdrew the butcher knife from its slot and placed it on the work surface.
James, Amy and Dafydd all came into the kitchen and put their loaded bags down on the kitchen floor – ready for the plane.
“Can I take one of those boxes?” James asked June.
“What for?”
“I’m going to pack some bedding to take with us.”
“But won’t we need them for tonight?” June said.
“Damn, you’re right. What if I take all the spare sheets and duvets from under the bed?”
“Good idea,” June said. “Can you get the flashlight and batteries from the drawers in the cabinet in the living room, James?”
He nodded and turned to leave, but remembered something. “Have you packed Gyp’s stuff?”
“No, I’ll do that now.”
As James headed back into the living room, he heard June instructing the children to go and take a look in the pantry to see if there was anything else in there that they could take with them, and to fetch out Gypsy’s food.
James made his and June’s bedroom and knelt at the side of their bed. He pulled out a long drawer that was built into the base of it. He saw that there wasn’t much left, as most of it was already being used. He pulled everything out as neat as he could and took it to the kitchen.
June and the children were busy placing more stuff into another box when he entered. He didn’t say anything, and went straight to one of the two boxes that had not yet been used. He placed all the bedding he had on the table and sifted through it, putting what was adequate in his box.
Before they were finished packing, they could hear a plane approaching. June smiled. Amy and Dafydd looked at each.
“They are back, mun,” Dafydd said.
Amy put her hands to her mouth and giggled.
“Can we go out to them?” Amy asked June. “Please.”
June looked at the child, then up to her husband, who simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
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