by Hall, Thomas
“I’ll speak to Cortez and no one else,” I say. It is a gamble, I can only hope that the boy isn’t aware of how great an advantage his side has.
He looks at me as if he can tell whether to trust me by my appearance. He must see something that he likes, because he nods. “Follow me.”
I follow the boy through the ranks of men and women. The gunfire from the army isn’t meant for me, but it will kill me as well as any of the people here.
We approach Cortez’s truck.
The man doesn’t know I’m coming for him and he doesn’t look around. I watch him shooting into the crowd of soldiers and civilians. He hits the helicopters as often as he hits them.
The boy turns his gun around and uses it to bang on the side of the truck. The metallic clang is hardly audible over the din, but Cortez hears it.
He turns and looks down. His eyes widen when he sees me.
We stand in front of one another. The boy with the gun who brought me here forgotten. The open war going on around us forgotten. It is only the two of us; my captor and me.
“I knew you were here,” Cortez says. He grins and I want to punch his stupid face, but I am not close enough yet. “I knew I’d find you.”
“Well you did,” I say.
“I thought I’d have to kill a lot more people first,” he says. “You’ve got more guts than I gave you credit for.”
He has no idea.
“So what’s it going to be?” he says. “What kind of deal are you here to strike?”
“Stop killing these people,” I say.
He nods, but does nothing else. The shooting continues.
“If you stop then I’ll give you Harriet. We’ll all come with you.”
“And if I don’t?” he says. “If I kill everyone here and then take your daughter?”
“Then you’ll lose people as well. You’ll waste bullets and lives and you won’t be any better off than if you do what I ask.”
He nods again.
“What makes you think I want either of you alive?” he says.
“Your wife wants Harriet, doesn’t she?”
He makes no response. I watch him and wait, expecting him to raise the gun and then to see nothing because I will be dead. But that doesn’t happen.
“Okay,” he says.
“Okay?”
He calls the boy back over. “Tell Sid to stop shooting. Keep your guns on the soldiers, but don’t return fire until I give the order.”
The boy nods and then we watch him walk back into the line of soldiers to find Sid.
It takes no more than thirty seconds for the shooting to stop. Thirty seconds after that, the army stops shooting as well. An eerie silence settles over the battlefield.
“Lead the way,” Cortez says.
I turn away from him. It was too much to hope that he would walk in front. I suppose it would be foolish to stab him in the back in front of an army of loyal men with guns.
Bullet casings litter the ground. I try to work out what my next move is going to be, but nothing comes to me. I have to trust that I will recognise the opportunity when I see it.
We reach the heliport. It feels empty. If Harriet and Michelle are still here then they are well hidden. I am not sure whether to actually take Cortez to them, or whether I can trap him somewhere else and do what I need to do.
“In here?” Cortez says.
I nod. “You won’t hurt her?” I say.
“You have my word,” he says.
I don’t think his word is worth anything.
I stop walking. He stops beside me.
“She’s over there,” I say, pointing to the other side of the room where there is a door which leads to the rest of the heliport. At this point, my whole goal rests on getting him to go in front of me. The only way I can bring myself to kill him is if I don’t have to look at his face.
“By the door?” he says.
“Through it,” I say, thinking that it will give me more time. “Hiding in the bathroom.”
He turns towards me and for a moment. I expect him to shoot me, now that he’s got what he came for. What use am I to him, except to take him to my daughter? “You’ll make a good soldier,” he says, smiles and then walks ahead.
This is the moment I have been waiting for.
My heart is in my throat as I take a step to follow him. The back of his neck is exposed, his hair has grown long but is now tied up to keep it out of the way.
He takes one step and I take two.
The knife slides out of my sleeve and I raise it to strike.
Time passes in sickening jerks.
I see the blade flashing.
I bury it to the hilt in the back of his neck.
His body jerks but there is no noise.
I twist the handle, widening the wound so that there is no chance of it closing up.
The gun that he has been carrying falls to the ground but I don’t hear the sound.
I pull the knife out of his neck and take a step backwards.
His body falls forwards and hits the floor.
I stand above him, waiting to see whether he will move again, or if my terrible work is done.
Cortez doesn’t move.
I become aware of the sound of my own breathing and the pulsing beat of my heart. I am alive but he is dead.
I expected that I would feel more but I am numb.
CHAPTER 35
KILLING CORTEZ DOESN'T BRING AN END TO THE fighting. But with the death of their leader, his army loses its motivation. I hear the renewed gunshots but there is little passion in it. When I turn to look, I am unsurprised to see them retreating. This was a war of passion for him, those who remain would rather keep their lives than capture us.
"Daddy?"
I turn at the sound of her voice.
Harriet and Michelle are walking towards me and if they get much closer they will see him, see what I have become. My daughter has seen so much already, as a father I want to protect her from this final obscenity.
It breaks my paralysis and I start towards them. I pick Harriet up and hold her, walking them back across the room to the door.
A man called Paulson meets us on the launchpad. He wears a dark blue uniform and tells us that he is our pilot. He shows us to a helicopter riddled with the scars of battle, but which he assures us is safe.
We strap ourselves in, finding three seats together amongst fifty other people. Harriet sits between us. The doors close and the helicopter lurches as it rises into the sky.
Harriet wants to know where we're going, but no one can tell her. All we know is that the boats are waiting for us somewhere out at sea. We will stay there for a month, receiving regular health checks to screen us for the virus.
They would be better off screening to make sure none of us is a potential Cortez.
I yawn.
The helicopter swoops over the remains of London. Out the small window I can see fires and small pockets of civilisation.
A bone deep weariness comes over me. When I look, I see that Harriet is already asleep.
"It's okay," Michelle says. "Get some rest."
I nod. I don't have the strength to reply, let alone consider the things that I have had to do to get us here. It all seems distant and unreal.
My eyes close and I give up trying to fight it. Everything is going to be ok now. Everything is going to be fine.
The helicopters fill the evening sky like bats. My final thought as I fall into sleep is that we made it, we are among the saved and everything is going to be alright.
About the Author
Thomas Hall is really James Loscombe in disguise.
It is an open pen name used for publishing post-apocalyptic fiction.
Thomas / James is based in the UK, which might explain a thing or two about why he finds end of the world scenarios so fascinating.
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Hall, Thomas, End of the World (Book 1): Evacuation Point