I couldn’t turn to my left, I didn’t want to see the death surrounding me. I looked at Torriero, who was already looking at me, so I turned away, but he approached.
‘Who is the spy?’ He asked calmly.
‘I don’t know’ I replied, closing my eyes as he raised his weapon to my head. He pressed it onto my forehead, the cold metal barrel the last thing I would feel. I tried to make peace with myself, and prepare for death, but after a few seconds he removed it and I opened my eyes. ‘Hold his arm down’ he shouted at Mercer, as he removed the carving knife from the remains of the pig.
Mercer grabbed my right arm, and knocked the plates and glasses off the table as Torriero approached us both. I could see the baying crowd, willing the spectacle on, faces with so much anger and bitterness. ‘Before I kill you, I might have a bit of fun, and start by taking your fingers off’ smiled Torriero, as I tried to form a fist with my hand. ‘Spread your fingers out, or I will stick the blade through your skull.’ I put the palm of my hand onto the table, as he put the blade between my fingers, pressing it against my little one. ‘Which would you prefer to lose, your little finger or your thumb? All you have to do is tell me who the spy is?’
‘I don’t fucking know’ I spat, as the blade split the skin around my knuckle.
‘You know I’ll take it off don’t you, just tell me what I want to know?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know.’
He placed the blade on my little finger, just below the knuckle, and started to saw. My fingers were rigid and pointed, as Mercer held me down, and I fought the pain. I could feel each serration, tearing the skin off my finger. It was unbearable, I screamed out loud as the serrated blade hit the bone, forcing him to put more weight on. Blood was gushing off, coating the knife, and smearing across the blade. With a pop, he past the bone and it was over. My hand was stinging, but they wouldn’t let me have it back, I could feel a pool of blood forming under my palm, sticking to the table. Torriero picked up my blooded finger and held it aloft to the baying crowd, who were in raptures at the spectacle. He then threw it into the air, as their hands grabbed for it, and he turned to face me again. He picked then next finger, and placing the blooded blade across it, dragged it across my knuckle.
‘If you tell me who the spy is, this will all stop.’
‘I don’t fucking know’ I cried, almost at the point of fainting. He removed the blade from my finger, and turned to face his men. ‘I don’t think he knows’ he laughed, much to their amusement. ‘No one would continue down that road if they knew, but fortunately I don’t need him to tell me, I have another job for him. I already know who the fucking spy is, and he’s in this room, he must think I’m one dumb fucker.’
The room fell quiet, as everyone looked at each other, nervous of what was to happen. Keenan approached Torriero, and stood by his side. Mercer let go of my arm, and gave me a white napkin to wrap around my hand. Torriero walked over to the first table, looking at each man individually, each one looked nervously back. ‘You know what I do to traitors’ he said, as he strolled along the line. ‘I’m going to have fun when I get my hands on you.’ The distrust within the group was obvious, the atmosphere becoming unbearable. I’m not sure if he knew who the spy was, or he was playing with their paranoia and fear, waiting for him to show his hand. But the situation must have been to much for the target, who tried to back away, and was picked out by Torriero. ‘Grab him!’ He shouted, as the man made a run for it. But there was too many men around him, he was punched to the floor, and dragged across the tables to Torierro. He hit the floor in front of him, and had just climbed to his feet as Torriero shot him through his forehead at point blank, sending his body sprawling back to the floor.
‘You must think I’m a fucking idiot’ he shouted, as he started to stamp on the dead man’s head, his body twitched on the floor, with every blow. ‘Who’s fucking stupid now? You piece of shit.’
He stamped on the man’s head, until it caved in, and there was just a blood mess remaining, then he turned his attention back to me.
‘We requested the company of the generals from Camp Blue, to try and halt a possible war, and who the fuck do they send us? A sergeant, a captain and a fucking private. Well it’s your lucky day Private Driver, the only reason you are going to walk out of here, is I need someone to go back to the generals of Camp Blue and give them my message. If they think they can stop this war, they’re mistaken. It’s coming, and there is no way to stop it. We are ready to fight, we will fight and we will win.’ Torriero’s men cheered and banged the tables, as they were whipped into a frenzy by him. Soon I was dragged over the table, and kicked around the body and head, until I was unconscious. I don’t remember much after that, just continually waking up in pain, during the truck journey back to camp, unable to comfortably sleep. I hadn’t wanted to write this update, I put it off not wanting to relive the horrific final moments for Chris and Rhino. But somewhere in my memory, might be that bit of information needed to defeat Torriero. I am the only man still alive, who has witnessed first hand Torriero’s camp, his army, and his power.
CHAPTER FIVE
15/12/27 - Time 17:20
I slept for days, medicated up to the eyeballs, to help stop the pain. When I finally came around, and opened my groggy eyes I found Bernard sat in my room, reading a book. It took a few minutes for me to remember what had happened, how I found myself in this medical bed. I sobbed when I remembered, a worse feeling than the pain my body was suffering. I briefly explained what had happened to Sergeant Davis and Rhino, Bernard put the book onto the cabinet as he tried to take it in. I looked at my right hand, that had been bandaged up, hiding the trauma. It didn’t feel any different, I was sure I could wiggle my little finger, but I know that’s not the case.
‘The doctor says you’re lucky,’ said Bernard. ‘No broken bones.’
‘Are you sure, it feels like something must be broke’ I said, raising my eyebrows, but then instantly regretting it, as the bruising around my forehead throbbed.
‘It’s going to take a couple of weeks to recover, but the generals have taken advice from the medical staff, and signed you off until after Christmas. How do you feel?’
‘Like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me.’
‘You look like you’ve had the shit kicked out of you.’
‘Thanks.’
Bernard told me what had happened the night I was brought back to the camp, a vehicle arrived at Security Base Delta, and I was thrown out of the back, before it sped away. I didn’t recall any of it, the last thing I remember was the van journey back, constantly waking up in pain, unable to sleep.
‘The generals want an update’ he said. ‘Sergeant Welsh has been in your room since you arrived back, I sent him to get some lunch.’
‘Why Welsh?’
‘Not sure, I think the generals have tasked him with getting an update from you when you come around. Rumour around camp is there’s been a complaint from within his company, about him and his methods, they might be trying to cool the situation before it blows up.’
‘Do the children know what’s happened?’
‘No, not really. Emma knows something’s not right, but she knows you’re safe.’
‘Can you bring her to see me? And the boys, I’d love to see them.’
‘Might be a bit early’ he replied, handing me a hand mirror off the side cabinet. I raised it to my face, and looked at my reflection, it was a shocking sight. I had a cut, black and blooded right eye, and a blooded nose and mouth. My head was covered with bruising, and a scar stretching across my forehead, around six inches long, that had been crudely stitched by a training nurse. I put the mirror on the bed, and closed my eyes for a few moments, how could it have ended like it did? Going so badly wrong.
‘I don’t want the children seeing me like this’ I said, opening my eyes to reaffirm my statement, before shutting them again. Bernard told me to get some more sleep, he would bring the children when my face was a little le
ss aggressive. I slept the rest of the day and night, when I woke, Welsh was sat at the end of my bed on an uncomfortable looking chair. ‘You awake?’ He said, standing up and stretching. ‘Bernard told me what happened to Davis and Rhino, I’m sorry.’
‘Me too.’
‘The generals want you to write it up, every bit of detail.’
‘What have they done?’
‘Nothing yet, they want your report before they make any decisions.’
‘We are going to war, that’s the only decision. I want that fucker dead.’
‘Maybe so, they just want a better understanding of what we’ll be facing.’
I spent the next couple of hours writing up what happened, in as much detail as I could. I kept going back and putting extra bits in, as the cogs of my memory started rotating and found a rhythm. Welsh waited until I had finished, and then took the notes to the generals, like they were important royal papers. When he left, there was nothing for me to do but write up this entry, and sit on my own, re living memories I wanted to forget. I didn’t eat much of my dinner, I couldn’t face it. I didn’t feel like doing much but sleeping, just going through the motions, speaking to doctors and nurses when required, when all I really wanted was to be left alone, I had no heart for doing anything.
17/12/27 - Time 17:20
I was woken by a nurse in the early hours, I had been shouting and swearing, fully invested in a nightmare. Sweat was pouring off me as I fought with her, and she struggled to calm me down. After, she sat with me for a while until I dropped back off again, reassuring me everything was fine, I was safe. I could hardly eat I was so down and depressed, I just felt shit. I needed to snap out of it, and needed help in achieving it. That help came from Keane, who I heard well before I saw him, ranting at the nurses about visiting hours at the camp being a joke. When he saw me, we shared a look that expressed both our feelings about what had happened, without words. Then, red eyed, we remembered what Chris and Rhino meant to Blue and White Company, and to us. They were our comrades, and our friends.
‘I should have been there’ said Keane, sitting down in the chair by my bed.
‘If you had, you’d be dead too. The only reason I’m not is because I am a private, and they saw me as the least import.’
‘You’re going to make sure they regret that decision, you’re going to play a part in bringing that fucker down.’
‘I want nothing more than to see him dead.’
‘We will, we will. He must know he cannot win.’
‘I’m not sure he does, he’s delusional. Anyway, your arms looking better, how’s it feeling?’
‘It’s fine now, all healed. Just got three more days to wait until I’m allowed back into the field. Fuck knows what the company will look like then though.’
‘No news on who will replace Chris?’
‘No, the generals are awfully quiet on the subject.’
‘What about you, Sergeant Keane?’
‘No chance, can you imagine?’
We both managed a little smile, for the first time in a while.
‘What about Murphy?’ I asked, probably still clutching at straws.
‘With his temperament? Again, not a chance. We were a cobbled together group of alcoholic, mammas boys with anger issues, Chris made a company out of us, not a job anyone could do. Anyway, all the sergeants are in meetings, and have been for days. More important things to sort out at the moment, your report will be scaring the shit out of some of those half arsed pen pushers. I was having a run along the beach last night, and saw some of our tanks practicing manoeuvres across the sands.’
‘How many do we have up and running now?’
‘There were twelve taking part yesterday, not a lot of firing taking place, think we have a limited amount of shells, but the new tank drivers were looking good. They were also trialling drone tech again, but it ain’t going to work, they just cannot fly through that ash and shit, they weren’t even getting off the ground half the time. It’s going to be land warfare only, boots on the ground.’
‘I think Torriero was working on some form of vehicles, but we weren’t allowed near them.’
‘He could be working on all kinds of shit, but in the end, when the military machine grinds into gear, it will be too much for him.’
‘I hope so, while we were in the meeting with Torriero, he claimed he’d just been attacked by us.’
‘Well that’s bullshit,
‘I thought so.’
‘It didn’t happen.’
‘I didn’t think we had, the whole meeting was a set up, pre planned to make a statement.’
‘And he certainly did that.’
After Keane had left, I filled in my diary entry, and did little else. Being restricted to this bed was driving me mad, I’m due to see the doctor tomorrow, hopeful I’ll feel well enough to have a walk around the medical centre. I need to speak to Little D, every day I put it off, the harder it’s going to get. I just don’t know what I’m going to say.
18/12/27 - Time 11:20
I had the best nights sleep for literally years, the medication probably helped, but I must have been ready for it. But once awake my mind was debilitated by brain numbing boredom, hours awake were spent trying to find conversations with other patients. I’ve not been this bored since I was trapped in the electrical box for three months, after the initial attack. I felt well enough to venture from my bed after lunch, and the doctor said I was on track for my recovery time. I heard rumors around the ward, that a full camp meeting had been called for ten am. As that time came and went, speculation was confirmed as Bernard arrived with the children, and stated the generals had officially declared war on Torriero. The children could sense something was different, but I don’t think it was affecting them too much. I could tell with the look on Emma’s face, she was slightly taken aback when she saw me in the hospital bed, face still cut and bruised. She had an expression on her face I hadn’t seen before, a look of real concern for me. I didn’t recall her ever seeing me in hospital before, but she probably associates it with death, having the horrible experience with her mum. Having already lost one parent, I can only imagine what the fear of losing her dad would feel like, she was completely white faced. She didn’t speak much, only to tell me off for ending up in hospital, very much a trait of hers, and her mums for that matter. The boys were fine, far more interested in the state of my hand, the bandage hiding something that fascinated them. I didn’t tell them my finger had been cut off, I’ll leave that for a day when I’m looking less battered. After lunch, it was evident something unusual was taking place in the hospital, all the medical staff were running around in a mild panic. I climbed out off bed, and went for a walk, to see if I could find the source of the commotion. My body was still a little achy, particularly my ribs and side, but I soldiered on. When I reached the top floor, I noticed people milling around outside a room, just off the main corridor. I ventured over, to see what all the fuss was about. Inside I found a women laying on the bed giving birth, with doctors all around her. The room was full of medical staff and members of her family, surrounding the crying woman, helping her through it. I went and sat in the corridor, to give them some privacy and listened as the ladies screams were soon replaced by the baby’s, the first child born at Camp Blue. The more I sat thinking about it, the more I believed the camp should use this as positive news, to unite the camp for what’s to come, the face of the fight ahead. Everyone that came to visit the mother and child this afternoon, lit up when they saw how perfect they were. Janet, the mother, named the little boy Alex, after his dad, who had died getting her to the camp. When all the excitement had died down, I decided I needed to speak to Little D, and he must have had the same idea, for as I arrived back at my bed, he was sat on the chair beside it. He stood up as I approached, and we hugged silently for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you’ I said, coming out of the hug, but keeping my hands on his shoulders. ‘I really should have done, but I didn’t
want to face you. I didn’t know what to say, I’m sorry for your loss. I really wish I could have stopped it, I’d have done anything to stop it.’
‘I know you would, don’t blame yourself, there’s nothing you could’ve done.’
‘I keep reliving it, to see if we missed anything, a sign for what was to come. But there was nothing. It was his plan all along.’
‘Chris always put Blue and White Company forward for the dangerous missions, the ones nobody wanted.’
‘The generals trusted him, knew he would deliver, he was a victim of his own success.’
‘But this was a job too far.’
‘We’re going to bring that fucker down, mark my words, I will not rest until I’ve seen his dead body.’
‘We can agree on that.’
Little D was silent for a moment, looking at my injuries, and then my hand. ‘Did he suffer?’ He asked, pointing at my bandage.
‘No it was quick. Chris never saw it coming, none of us did, he was dead before any of us saw a gun.’
I asked him if there was any news on Blue and White Company, who were now looking particularly under bodied.
‘Keane is re-joining after the weekend, and we are pencilled in for the week following Christmas. I think Murphy and Keane are having discussions with the generals regarding our first mission, due to leave that first week, a twenty strong company assault on the mills, used for the disposal of bodies.’
‘What about a new sergeant?’
‘They are taking new applicants for the position, and the one squad vacancy. We will end up with a new recruit, making us weaker as a company, it’s just the way it goes.’
We sat and talked for a few hours, about the future mainly. Little D was very upset Chris and Rhino’s bodies had not come back to the camp with me, so they could be buried properly, with military honours. It was the least they deserved, but Torriero wasn’t going to even give them that, and he accused us of being disrespectful. Little D was dealing with Chris’s death as well as can be hoped, while losing a loved one is always difficult, we’ve all seen so much death. He left soon after, so he didn’t miss the lunch run, spotting the food trolley heading towards his floor. He seemed to be walking fine now, without any sign of an injury. After writing up the days entry, I decided to have an early night, to help continue my recovery.
Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 44