The mother, still on her knees, was overcome with shock and grief. She stopped yelling and pleading for her little boy's life. She took in a deep, harrowing gasp and released her hold on the head soldier's uniform. In a dazed aura of disbelief, she leaned back so hard that David thought her legs would snap at the knees. She swayed in the wind and rain almost like she were gasping for air.
On the nearby hill, the female Indian sniper squinted her eyes and glanced harshly away from her binoculars. She was clearly in anguish.
“They shot the little boy. They shot the bloody wee little boy,” she whispered and gasped.
The black female sniper also bowed her head away from her rifle eyepiece, but remained grimly silent.
Back in the truck, Louise, her hands still covering her mouth, continued looking on, stunned, whimpering into her palms. David took another deep breath. He remained eerily calm on the outside, but inside he was a raging bull. He'd happily kill every single one of those scumbags with his bare hands if he could keep his self-made promise and avenge the death of his beloved Ashley. But he knew a knee-jerk reaction now might mean the end of both his and Louise's short venture into this new, brutal land of bile, hate and unspeakable violence.
In that moment, he promised himself that if he ever did avenge his beloved Ashley someday soon, he would come back to this very place again and take out as many of these foul and evil putrid fuckers as he possibly could and well before they even had a chance to realise what had hit them. It took all his willpower and restraint to steady his broken composure. He kept reminding himself that now was not the time to act.
Now was not the time to act.
Ashley's beautiful, smiling face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Warmly reassuring him of that pact. Then glimpses of Ashley's burnt, beaten and broken body hanging on the clifftop outside their Highland holiday retreat invaded his memories.
Outside on the bridge, as David wrestled the demons raging inside his skull, the mother's shock at losing her child finally sank in. She began howling to the high heavens. She tried to cry out the words “How could you, how could you,” over and over, but they just came out in a series of mumbled howls and moans.
The head soldier turned back to face her. He then pulled out his own handgun and shot her dead, right through the head, before shooting her again through the chest, just for good measure, right where she knelt. Immediately, the man turned towards another group of three armed soldiers, all standing and watching nearby.
“Get rid of their bodies and move her fucking car,” he screamed.
The three soldiers hurried over to the mother and son's lifeless, bloodied bodies. They grabbed them by the hands and wrists before dragging them to the side of the bridge. Mother first, followed by her boy, were all thrown over the rails, into the rain and winds and the rough and rapid River Clyde below.
Back up on the hill, the Indian sniper took a deep breath and reached for her radio. “Base Camp from Unit 2. Over.”
“Come in, Unit 2,” a deep male voice replied.
“Reporting some action on the Erskine Bridge, sir. One white lady shot dead with her mixed-race boy trying to cross at the checkpoint.? Over.”
“Acknowledged, Unit 2. Thanks for the update. Continue to watch and observe only. Please do not engage with the enemy and give away your position. Copy? Please do not engage. Over.”
Both snipers glanced at each other with deep, sad frowns on their faces and in their eyes.
“Copy that ... over,” the Indian woman finally replied with a hint of both sorrow and reluctance in her tone.
Back down on the bridge, like nothing had happened and with normailty resumed, the next few cars were swiftly ushered forward, then cleared to drive on through the checkpoint.
Inside the truck, a frantic Louise tried to calm herself down by taking long, deep breaths while wiping away all her remaining tears. David still said nothing. Instead, he pinched the bridge of his nose where the skin met his eyes. He then returned his focus to the road ahead. His truck was next to be stopped and searched.
One of the soldiers who had carried away the little boy and dumped his body over the side of the bridge approached the driver's-side window of David's truck. “Your ID, mate? Passport or papers?”
David hesitated for a second before grabbing his rucksack from the middle seat and searching through it for his soggy passport. As David searched, the soldier eyed the pretty Louise, even giving her a flirtatious grin. David found his passport and calmly showed it to the soldier. The soldier nodded with approval before turning his attention back to Louise. “And your slave?”
“I don't have any papers for her. I picked her up only a few days ago.”
The soldier looked concerned and bit his lower lip. He turned away from the truck and waved over the head soldier, the one who had given the order to shoot the little boy before shooting the mother himself.
“Sergeant,” the soldier called out.
The sergeant, who was speaking with another soldier, turned. He looked a little annoyed at the interruption but reluctantly made his way over. Studying the sergeant, David knew right away that he would never agree to let Louise leave the bridge with David. The sergeant had a certain arrogant superiority that beamed a godlike complex to everyone around him. A good-looking young girl like Louise. They would take her for sure, and then David would have to decide where his priorities truly lay.
The sergeant approached the truck with his hands held firmly behind his back. He glanced up at David through the rolled-down window and smirked.
“He has ID, but no ownership papers for the slave,” the soldier firmly stated
“Where are you coming from, son, and where are you heading?” the sergeant asked.
“I'm coming from Dumfries. I'm delivering this girl up to Fort William.”
The sergeant looked surprised. “In such a big truck with no other slaves? Does this truck even belong to you, son? It looks like one of our own.”
“Well, it's mine. Took it from an old government army base down in Newcastle six months back after me and my men annihilated their entire squadron.”
The sergeant seemed impressed. “Good for you,” he replied. He then stared at Louise on the other side of the truck. “You know that slaves must be tied and bound at all times when travelling on the open road. They also must sit securely in the back of all open trucks.”
David forced a mischievous grin. “What can I say, Sergeant? I was feeling a little lonely up front.”
The sergeant hesitated. Then, as if coming to some kind of decision, he glanced back at David again, this time staring at him with cold, hard eyes.
“All slaves being traded North must have official papers of business from the respected councils. You must also have your own papers regarding slave ownership, which you can attain from your local council.”
“Since when?” David asked.
The sergeant gave David another steely stare. He clearly wasn't used to being questioned or answered back. “Since fucking six months ago. Sanctioned by the new Northern councils. Have you been living in a fucking cave for the past few months, son?”
David held eye contact with the sergeant with neither man seeming like he would back down any time soon.
“Something like that,” David finally replied.
“We have to be extremely careful these days, my friend. There are a couple of, let’s say, minor rebel ethnic groups skulking around up north, hiding out in the highlands, even being helped by some of our very own treacherous civilians. Fucking ethnic sympathisers. So, we're tightening up the northern borders until we can eliminate the fuckers.” The sergeant nodded for the soldier beside him to head around to the passenger side of the truck. “Take the female out.”
Louise looked horror stricken as the soldier approached her door. He yanked it open before motioning her to get out. Standing calmly beside David's door, the sergeant just smiled. David tightened the grip on his unseen handgun, which he'd been clutching by his right
knee since the sergeant had approached the truck.
“We'll keep her nice and safe for you in our holding cell, son, until you can come back with your official papers. And don't you worry,” he said with a sly wink, stamping down his authority even further. “My boys will take real good care of her while you get them from your local authority.”
Louise whimpered. She stared at David with tears in her eyes, desperately seeking his help and assistance. Silently pleading for him to do something to save her, anything. David didn't look back at her though as the soldier began dragging her out of the truck. She struggled only a little, knowing it was useless to protest. If she struggled too much and too hard, she knew she'd give herself away, revealing she had never been any kind of slave to David in the first place.
As the soldier dragged Louise behind the truck, over towards a nearby cabin guardroom, the sergeant, with a cocky glare, slapped the side of David's truck. “You're free to go now, son. Maybe see you back here again in a day or two, or perhaps not,” he said with another wink and smile. “Have a good day now.”
David hesitated and sat in silence for a few moments, wrestling with the angels and demons now roaring with a hurricane force through his mind.
He was free to go. Free to keep moving north and seek his vengeance. His own kind of vigilante justice and retribution. So why couldn't he just put his foot down on the accelerator pedal and drive away? He'd known Louise only a few days and had almost ended his own life the day before he'd met her, so why did he care so much about the fate of one ethnic teenage girl?
He took a quick peek into his side mirror, watching Louise being forcefully escorted towards the makeshift guardroom. Two armed soldiers began waving David on as another raised the checkpoint barrier. David took a deep breath. He let out a weary sigh before shaking his head and starting the engine. He made another quick glance at the side mirror as a second soldier took a firm hold of Louise and began dragging her even more forcibly into the guardroom. David hovered his foot over the accelerator. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head one last time.
“It's for the best,” he said, trying to break the hold his conflicting thoughts had over him. Then, without wasting any more time, he put the truck into gear and drove towards the checkpoint.
Chapter 24
Crawling towards the checkpoint, David suddenly slammed on the brakes and brought the truck to a shuddering halt. He turned off the engine and gazed down at the handgun by his side, then behind him at the Uzi behind his seat. He took another quick glance into the side mirror at all the queued traffic still sitting behind him, watching and waiting impatiently for their turn to drive through the checkpoint.
On the rain-swept bridge behind him, half a dozen soldiers stopped what they were doing to gaze over at the motionless truck. One of the soldiers who had waved him through the checkpoint approached him with an irritated manner.
“Come on, pal,” the soldier yelled at him through the howling wind and rain. “There's a fucking queue behind you the same length as ma fucking cock. Let's go or we'll take the fucking truck off you and you can just walk out of here. You hear me?”
David opened the driver's door and slowly stepped out of the vehicle.
“Now what the fuck are you doing?” roared the soldier.
“I need to quickly check something,” David yelled back to the soldier through the heavy wind and rain. Without waiting for a reply, David stepped around to the driver's side of the truck, which immediately blocked the view from most of the other soldiers and traffic behind.
Still bumping his gums, the impatient soldier followed David to the side of the truck as the torrential wind and rain did its best to blow him this way and that. When he eventually reached David, he began yelling at him even louder.
“What the fuck are you doing, pal? Get back in your fucking-”
David unleashed a brutal punch straight to the soldier's gut, breaking ribs and winding him hard. He then pulled out his hunting knife and stabbed the soldier in the side of the head, puncturing his temple. Quickly, David lowered the bloodied soldier to the ground, rolling him underneath the truck and temporarily out of sight.
None of the other soldiers had cottoned on to what had happened behind the truck’s blind side. David slid his knife back into his belt and walked towards the rear end. When he emerged into the open, he spotted the sergeant, who had his back turned towards him, 20 or so yards away. The sergeant was speaking intently with another two soldiers close to the bridge’s railings.
Without hesitation, David made his way towards the sergeant. As he closed in, he called out to the sergeant over the howling winds. “Hey ... I found those papers you needed after all.”
The confused sergeant turned slowly to face David. Before he could even fathom the reason for his appearance and acknowledge him, David had pulled out his first handgun, still tucked in beside his knife at the back of his trousers. He shot the sergeant straight in the mouth. Blood, teeth and bone splattered in every direction, flying through the wind and rain. Half of the sergeant’s head whipped up and back while his jaw dangled from his face. He fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.
David turned the gun on the other two soldiers, who stood in utter disbelief at the dead sergeant's side. He shot them both through the throat, then once through the chest for good measure, all the time wishing he could make their pain last a hell of a lot longer than a few seconds. But he had far too many other fish to fry at that point.
Back up on the distant forested hill, the two snipers, still watching the bridge with even greater interest, looked on, absolutely astonished and confused.
“Holy fucking shit,” cried the Indian sniper. She snapped up her radio, desperately pressing the speak button at the exact same time. “Base camp. This is Unit 2. Come in. Over. Come in.”
After an intensely long delay, the voice on the radio replied. “Go ahead, Unit 2. Over.”
“We have more action down on the bridge. Some crazy vigilante white guy is trying to take out all the other fucking soldiers, I think. What should we do, man? Over.”
After another delay, the voice on the radio responded. “Unit 2. My unit is coming to observe. They're a short distance away. Stand by until they arrive. And do not engage. Over.”
Both women frowned.
“Copy that, over,” the Indian woman said reluctantly. She threw the radio on the grass behind her and turned back to face her fellow sniper. “Stand by until they arrive. Jesus Christ. Haven't we been waiting for something like this to happen? Shouldn't we at least be helping the poor guy to take out some of those sick fucks? ”
“But we might give away our position,” replied the black female sniper. “Right now those motherfuckers down there don't even know we exist.”
"Well maybe it's about time those fuckers found out"
The black girl bit her tongue and said nothing more.
Back down on the bridge, the remaining soldiers were in a mass grave panic as they tried to get into a decent position to defend themselves. All of them were ducking, diving and hiding behind anything they could find, from cars to pillars to storage crates. They wondered just what the hell was happening out on the middle of the rain-swept bridge.
Another group of soldiers who were still performing vehicle checks on the south side continued with their duties, unaware that anything was going on. The heavy rain and winds combined with the dozens of running car engines blocked out most of sound of gunfire.
David darted behind the nearest queued car and immediately opened fire, picking off more panicked, clueless soldiers one by one. A terrified couple inside the vehicle peaked through their side window, trying to figure out just what the hell was happening. It had been such a long time since they'd seen a bunch of white guys fighting each other, they felt they might have been time warped back to a regular Saturday night out in Glasgow back before the war.
The couple quickly ducked down, taking cover inside their car. Outside, David fired his gun every few seconds
in short, sharp bursts as the nearby soldiers fired sporadically back. David shot a fourth soldier, then a fifth and sixth. Finally, the soldiers on the other side of the bridge, those still performing their checks, realized some kind of gunfight had broken out up on the main bridge. Quickly, those same armed soldiers, male and female, emerged from the gridlocked queues of traffic to take a position against a target they didn't have a clue who or where it was.
More and more, sporadic gunfire blasted through the wind and rain, spraying out from the panicking soldiers guns. Bullets flew through the air, hitting cars, trucks, concrete girders and even the bridge's suspension ropes. In a new wave of mass panic, the drivers and passengers of the gridlocked vehicles, started throwing open their car doors left, right and centre, scrambling into the stormy weather while crouching on their hands and knees and fleeing for their lives. As they tried to escape, most screamed not to be shot at.
With civilians now scattered everywhere, desperately trying to flee the bridge, the clueless solders stood out more, becoming much easier targets for David to pick out. He took out another soldier, then another. Another two soldiers backed away behind a nearby truck, looking for a safe retreat to get their wits together. David ran towards them amongst another four running civilians. He placed his hands over his head as he approached, pretending he was fleeing with the others from the mad invisible gunman. When the soldiers waved him on, he turned back around to face them before executing them where they stood. Then he grabbed their weapons.
The rain began ripping down harder now, a new level up from the torrential onslaught that had previously engulfed the land. David ducked behind another car to avoid a new wave of bullets spraying in his direction from nearby soldiers who had finally figured out who and where he was.
David glanced at the other side of the bridge. He wanted to get his bearings and figure out just how far away the guardroom – the place where the two soldiers had dragged Louise – was from his position. He clocked that it wasn't far at all. But there was one major problem. One of the soldiers inside the guardroom had made his way onto the barricaded roof above and was now kneeling behind a huge sub-machine gun whose long, sinister barrel was pointing directly at him.
The Wrath of David Page 16