by Craig Zerf
He arrived at his digs and stood outside for a while, dragging on the remains of his cigarette. As he finished, the door of the cottage three down from his crashed open and two soldiers stepped out. Between them was a young girl. Perhaps fifteen or maybe sixteen. It was hard to tell in the dark but it looked as if she had been weeping. Behind her was an older man, gray hair, spectacles.
‘You can’t do this,’ the older man said. His voice a desperate plea.
‘Brigadier’s orders,’ replied the one soldier. ‘Now stand back.’
The older man lunged forward and grabbed the girl, attempting to pull her from the soldier’s grasp. The soldier who had spoken before, casually smashed his elbow into the man’s face, splitting the flesh below his eye and knocking him to the ground, sending his spectacles flying.
Nate strode over. ‘What’s going on here?’ He asked.
‘Back off, ‘retorted the soldier.
‘Back off – sergeant,’ bellowed Nate.
The soldier came to attention. ‘Sorry, sergeant,’ he said. ‘My mistake. Thought that you were a civvie. Brigadier’s orders, sergeant. He said to bring the girl to his offices.’
‘Why?’ Asked Nate.
The private shrugged. ‘Not mine to ask, sergeant. Not in this man’s army. Brigadier commands and I do.’
Nathaniel nodded. It was the answer that he expected. A private was a mere pawn in an institution where shit ran downhill so he was constantly covered in the stuff. Every crappy job went to the lowest ranks first.
‘As you were, private,’ said Nate. ‘Just make sure that no harm comes to the girl.’
Once again the private shrugged. ‘It will or it won’t, sergeant, but I can assure you, I will not harm her.’
The two soldiers dragged the weeping girl off.
Nate picked up the older man’s spectacles and handed them to him.
The man accepted them with shaking hand. ‘How could you?’ He said. ‘She’s but a child. She’s my granddaughter. Barely fifteen years old.’
‘I’m sure that she’ll be fine,’ replied Nate.
The old man shook his head. ‘I know that you’ve just got here, but how can you be so naïve? What do you think is happening here? Do you think that monster has invited her over for milk and cookies?’
Nate turned and started to walk back to his digs.
The old man grabbed his cloak. ‘He’s going to rape her. He’s going to take my little girl and tear her clothes off and beat her and rape her.’ He started to weep. Quietly. Then he let go of Nate’s cloak and simply sat down in the snow, tears running down his cheeks. ‘He’s going to rape her and there’s nothing that I can do.’
Nate stood and watched him for a while. Thoughts tumbled through his mind. The needs of then many outweigh the needs of the few. These people had shelter. Food. Protection from the roving gangs. But who would protect them from their protectors? And why should it be his problem? He would go back to his house, sleep, get up tomorrow and go. Leave well enough alone.
The old man held his head in his hands and rocked back and forth slightly. A picture of utter dejection.
‘Oh stuff it,’ said Nate,’ as he turned and started to stride towards the brigadier’s house. ‘I know that I’m going to regret this.’
It took him less than two minutes to reach the brigadier’s house and he walked straight up to the front door. The two ever-present guards blocked his way.
‘Sorry, sergeant,’ said the one. ‘No entrance. The brigadier is busy for the evening.’
‘No,’ said Nate. ‘Not any more.’ He grabbed the guard’s rifle and pulled the man towards him, arching his back and delivering a crashing head butt to the bridge of the man’s nose. He dropped to the floor like a sack of wheat. Nate ripped the rifle from his inert fingers, swung on his heel and smacked the butt into the other guard’s temple, dropping him in the same manner.
Then he opened the door ands walked in. He figured that the brigadier would be upstairs and he ran up the sweeping marble staircase to the next floor. He entered a corridor with a row of doors along one side and a set of double doors at the very end. Nate reckoned that the double doors were probably the entrance to the master suit so he went straight to them and kicked them open.
The girl was naked and tied to the bed. The brigadier, still in full dress uniform, stood over her with a riding crop. The red swollen weals that criss-crossed the girl’s torso spoke of mute testament as to what the brigadier was doing.
He turned to face Nate, his face a picture of absolute surprise.
‘What the bloody hell?’ He exclaimed. ‘How dare you, sergeant? Get out.’
Nate raised the rifle and pointed it at the brigadier. ‘You filthy old animal, put the whip down and untie the girl.’
The brigadier’s face went purple with rage. ‘Put the rifle down this instant. You are addressing a superior officer.’
‘No I’m not,’ said Nate. ‘I’m merely addressing an officer that outranks me. Now do as I say or I swear that I’ll shoot your dick off.’
But the brigadiers could still not get past the enormity of being addressed in such a way by a mere non-commissioned officer, so he simply shook his head and shouted, ‘guards!’
Nate, who was not one to issue idle threats, flicked the safety off the rifle and fired a round into the floor next to the officer’s feet. ‘Untie her, or the next one will leave you singing soprano for the rest of your life.’
The officer stepped over to the bed and quickly untied the girl.
‘Where are her clothes?’ Asked Nate.
The brigadier pointed to a pile in the corner.
‘Get dressed, sweetheart,’ said Nate. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Stacey,’ she replied. Her voice shaking.
Okay, Stacey, quickly now, get dressed and then come and stand by me.’
The girl did as she was told and then stood behind Nate.
‘What now?’ She asked.
‘Damned if I know, Stacey.’ answered Nate. ‘I’m making this up as I go along.’ He used his rifle to motion towards the door. ‘Come on, brigadier. Outside, you first.’
The brigadier opened the door and walked out. Nate followed and, as he stepped out into the corridor, a sixth sense told him to move. He stared to pull back but it was too late. A rifle butt smashed into his cheek, splitting the skin and knocking him down. Immediately a veritable herd of boots started kicking him. At least five men, crowding in close and giving it all that they had. He felt his nose break with a gravel-like crunch. Then he distinctly heard at least three ribs and a collarbone break. Dry dull snapping sounds.
Just before he passed out he found just enough time to berate himself for being such an idiot.
The end…for now.
Hi guys and thanks for giving The Forever Man a go. If you enjoyed it please could you take a bit of time to leave a review, I would really appreciate it!
The rest of the “Forever Man” books are available from…well…just about everyone.
If you would like to be kept in the loop regarding when my next book is out or if you would simply like to email and have a chat please drop me a line at [email protected]
This is my private email and I will get straight back to you.
Cheers - Craig
Acknowledgements
Polly - thanks for all the hours of editing & valuable input.
Axel - for the readings and the advice.
Mom & Dad & Shirl - for helping me to remember.
Michael Marshal Smith - My mentor and friend, for telling me to keep writing.
Who is Craig Zerf?
Craig grew up in Africa and went on to become a fellow of Trinity College and an alumnus of Cornell University New York.
At the age of 16 he was called up to the South African Defence Force and although many of his friends are now dead, he counts among the survivors various soldiers, gunrunners and warlords.
He is extremely proficient in the use of most small arms and has b
een in numerous fatal close-combat situations.
There is much in his life that he cannot talk about as it is hidden under the South African official secrets act that he signed in 1982.
As a result of these experiences - all of his books are written from either direct knowledge or experience and much is based on actual events. This gives them a unique level of accuracy, reality and poignancy.
Craig now lives in England with his wife, Polly and son Axel.
He also writes award-winning action thriller novels under the name C. Marten-Zerf.
Yet again –
For my wife, Polly and my son, Axel
Your light chases the shadows from my soul.
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