The Wrath of David

by Sean-Paul Thomas

  David was pleasantly surprised to find his trusty hunting knife securely placed inside one of the rucksack’s pockets too. It hadn’t been lost to the bottom of the loch with the rest of his weapons and belongings. His wallet was still in one piece also... well, barely. It had been rescued from his waterlogged trousers after the crash, along with his engraved lighter, which he was just happy to see again, even though it would most likely near spark a flame again.

  David opened his wallet and took a long hard look at the damp, fading picture inside, protected by a see-through plastic card holder. He almost allowed himself to let out a rare smile at the only picture he had left of his beloved Ashley. However, when he saw Louise approaching from beyond some nearby trees, he quickly closed his wallet and slipped it back inside his pocket.

  Louise stepped closer, crunching through the fallen leaves and twigs. David nodded, acknowledging her presence, yet said nothing. Right away he noticed the scowl on her face. She seemed upset about something and it wouldn't take many guesses to figure out what that might be. Louise was the first to break the uncomfortable silence between them.

  “You haven't said two words to me since you've been up and about,” she stated as she came to a standstill only a few yards in front of him.

  “I thought ... I thought it would be easier if I just...” David hesitated. He really didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he also knew, deep down inside, that if he wanted to move on, it would be totally unavoidable.

  “If you just what?” Louise snapped. “If you just left without saying bloody anything? After everything we've been through together?”

  David chuckled. He didn't mean to, but it slipped out. “Everything we've been through? If you say so, Louise.” David sighed. “Jesus Christ! Look. You want to hear the cold hard truth here? You've been more of a fucking hindrance to me than any kind of help. You keep putting my life in fucking danger for your own selfish needs and agenda, and all before I've had the chance to do what I fucking came here to do.” David roared like a lion as he yelled out that last sentence.

  “My selfish agenda?” Louise raged right back at him, stunned at David's drastic change in attitude. She raised her voice so high, most of the people sitting around the nearby fires could hear her loud and clear. “My selfish agenda of showing a little bit of humanity and compassion for my fellow human beings.”

  David shook his head. She still didn't understand. She just didn't get it one bit that he didn't give a damn anymore. He didn't care about anyone or anything. He'd tried to, of course he had. He'd thrown himself out of the frying pan and into the fire on more than a few occasions now on this journey, trying desperately to see things, see the world from Louise's eyes. But after everything he'd done, after everything they'd been through together, helping others in whom he had no interest or no emotional attachment too ... it just didn't do a damn thing for him. And that was the cold hard selfish sorry truth.

  All he cared about now was his own selfish thoughts of justice and revenge. That was it. No more. No less. What had happened back on the bridge and then with almost dying in the loch, well it had been the final straw. The final straw that broke the camel's back. Only one thing mattered, and from now on nothing and no one would ever stand in his way again.

  “Louise, if it wasn't for you, I'd already have some kind of vengeance by now or I'd be dead trying. Instead, I'm risking my fucking neck and very limited time and resources on your selfish and insane fucking mission to save the whole, fucked, fucking planet.”

  Louise shook her head as she tried to hold back the tears now swelling in her eyes. “Or you might even be dead yourself before you even had a chance to get started. Did you even think about that? If my memory serves me correct, I seem to remember it was I who dragged your sorry arse out of the sea that time or shot that soldier on the bridge before he had the chance to shoot you.”

  David unleashed a false chuckle. “Louise! You're the fucking reason I ended up in the water ... and in the middle of a war zone on that fucking bridge.”

  They both stood in a stubborn silence. Louise seemed to be biting her tongue much more than David as she wrestled with her conflicting thoughts and feelings as to why David was acting like such an arsehole towards her.

  David took a deep breath. “Look,” he said, his tone a little softer and forgiving. “You've found a good place here, Louise. You don't need me anymore. And I certainly have no need for you. So let's just take this for what it is, yeah? A blessing in disguise. A good place to go our separate ways and do what we came here to do.”

  Louise remained silent. She was speechless. She didn't know what to say or how to react to this strange, new, cold-hearted man in front of her.

  David took her silence as his cue to end their conversation and be on his way. Sooner rather than later. He turned back to his tent and grabbed the small rucksack lying on the ground. He swung it over his shoulder and began walking away. On his person, he had everything he needed to get his job done.

  “David!' Louise suddenly cried after him. Tears were steamrolling down her face by the bucket load. David kept walking. “Why didn't you just leave me to rot back there on that bloody bridge then, huh?” Louise continued, shouting after him. “Why didn't you just fucking leave me there to rot, you cold, heartless bastard?”

  David stopped in his tracks. After a brief pause, he slowly turned back around to face Louise one last time.

  “Because ... for one weak, stupid moment, Louise. I let my emotions and feelings get the better of me. Jesus Christ I even made myself see a little bit of Ashley in you and it clouded my judgement, made me feel real fucking sorry for you when we first met. Made me want to tap into those qualities of compassion and humility towards my fellow human beings. Qualities you hold so dear in your own heart. But if I ever want to do what I so desperately need to do to give my life peace and any fucking closure ... then I can't ever let that happen again, Louise. Do you understand? I can't have anyone in my life whom I'm not willing to walk away from when push comes to shove.”

  Louise was too upset to truly understand what David was saying. That he was dead inside. An empty vessel of anger and hate. And he was way beyond redemption. Only one thing in this life could redeem him before he took that one-way ticket straight to hell and it was the only thing that mattered to him now.

  “You truly are a monster, David. Do you know that?” Louise said, sobbing gently. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “Nothing happened to me, Louise. This is who I am. Who I've always been ... and I hope that one day you can find some kind of peace or redemption or even a meaning to your own life. But the gods honest truth of it is, I seriously doubt you will. Unless you figure out exactly what you want. And then make it happen. Because nobody else is sure as fuck going to do it for you.”

  David turned away from Louise. Without any more words, he began walking away, moving farther into the darkness.

  “You can do something here, David,” Louise yelled after him “You can actually do some good here and make a difference. You can still have a good life. You can still be a good man.”

  David kept walking as Louise's words rolled off his shoulders, like water from a swan’s back.

  “I saw Ashley's picture, David,” Louise yelled after him, like she had one last weapon left to use. Something desperate to make him stay for just a little bit longer, or at the very least to get some kind of reaction from him, good or bad.

  David stopped, but this time he did not turn around to face her.

  “When they were patching you up, I saw Ashley's picture inside your wallet,” Louise said.

  David took another deep breath. After a pause, he started walking again. Nothing she said could make him turn back around. As he disappeared through the trees and out of her sight, Louise continued to sob where she stood.

  Chapter 26

  David trekked all through the night. Over hills and valleys, through beautiful, thick forests and around picturesque lochs. A few hours aft
er sunrise he came to another small loch. “Loch Tulla” the old, rusted signpost had said on approach. Walking onto the pebbled beach, he set down his rucksack, stripped off his clothes and waded into the delicious body of cool, clear water for a wash. Even though his shoulder was healing, he found it hard to rotate his arm all the way round without any pain, so going for a quick swim was out of the question.

  David waded back out of the loch and lay down upon the warm, pebbled beach. He let the cool breeze and warm morning sunshine dry his naked wet skin until. Before he knew it he had become so relaxed that he fell into a deep and blissful sleep. After waking in the early afternoon he got dressed again and ate some of the fruit and cold cooked meat Steve had left for him inside his new rucksack.

  After his meal, he packed everything up and continued walking, trekking onwards for many more miles over more scenic hills and mountains and steep rough valleys, through which hard winding rivers tore right down the middle of, splitting those same valleys in two.

  The scenery was gorgeous, absolutely sublime, but every time David found himself slacking off into sightseeing mode, he swiftly reminded himself that he wasn't there as a tourist on some adventurous walking expedition. He was there for one reason and one reason only.

  On the east side of Glencoe and only a few miles south of Loch Leven, David set up camp for the night. Once he found a good spot, he made his way towards a woodland area only a mile or so away. Deep within the forest, he patiently waited up in the branches of a huge sycamore and after less than an hour he had caught and killed himself a small deer that had picked the wrong tree to venture under.

  David skinned the lean animal in no time and soon had it roasting upon his small fire. That night it took David a long time to fall asleep. He must have flicked Ashley's lighter open and shut more than a thousand times before finally drifting off for another few hours of restless kip.

  Bad dreams haunted him still. Yet for a change they weren't about his beloved Ashley. No, he dreamed about Louise. How she would fare out there in the wild with her new rabble group of refugees. How long would she survive in the highland wastelands now? Perhaps a few months? Maybe even a year. Still, it would more than likely be much more time than she'd ever get if she'd spent any more days with him. He knew that where he was going and what he had to do, there might be no coming back from, even for him. He tried to justify his cold attitude and hardened actions towards Louise back in the forest as best he could. Even telling himself it was all for her benefit.

  He didn't want to care for anyone else in this life. He didn't need anyone hanging onto him or relying on him of whom he couldn't leave in a heartbeat if the shit hit the fan. And it would, real soon. He convinced himself that being so honest and bold with Louise, brutally ripping off their Band-Aid of friendship, was the best thing he could have done for her under the circumstances.

  Secretly and deep down inside, though, he did care. How could he not? They had been through a lot together in a short space of time. More than most people. And perhaps one day, when what he had to do to give himself peace was finally over and he was somehow still standing on his own two feet, he would try to return to Louise. Perhaps.

  ***

  He awoke an hour or so after sunrise to the sound of revving motorbike engines mixed with whooping cries of joy and bloodcurdling screams of terror. The cheers and cries were coming from the next valley. David quickly packed up all his belongings and made his way to a nearby vantage point at the edge of the hill upon which he'd just been camping.

  From where he stood on the steep edge, David could see a small clan of about 10 bikers laughing and cheering as they tied three ethnic men to the backs of three motorbikes. The three ethnic men were screaming and begging for their lives, but the bikers just continued securing them to the backs of their bikes, laughing, high-fiving and back-slapping each other like it was all just some fun game.

  It appeared like the bikers had recently come across the three ethnic men, possibly found them wandering the surrounding mountains and valleys, just like he was doing himself. Now they were going to have some kind of sick race along the deserted country roads with the ethnic men trailing at their backs.

  Once the men were securely tied to the backs of the bikes, the three bikers sped off into the distance, dragging their wriggling and screaming victims on the rough roads behind them. The remaining bikers whooped and cheered them on as they disappeared over the horizon. The ethnic men's howls of agony could be heard for miles though, echoing around the neighbouring mountaintops.

  From the top of the hill, David turned away and began jogging to the hill’s opposite, northern side. As he hurried down the side of the steep hill, he could make out the huge body of water, Loch Leven, spiralling out from east to west, straight in front of him. In another life, it would have been an awe-inspiring and breathtaking sight. From this position he had an awesome bird’s-eye view of the roads around the loch and the mountainside which surrounded it.

  On the loch’s northern side, David could hear the roar of the distant bikes, still racing each other along the deserted Highland roads. Eerily, the screams of the men they were dragging had ceased. By the path the bikers were taking, David believed they would have to circle around the small village of Kinlochleven way over on the east side of the valley before eventually coming back around to his side of the mountain.

  David continued scrambling down the mountainside towards the single Highland road below. Once on the road, he began looking for any kind of debris, from old logs and fallen branches to large rocks and boulders. He needed to make a temporary roadblock, but he was struggling to find anything at all, apart from a few thin branches and small rocks.

  The echoing roar of the oncoming bikers was getting closer and louder. David was running out of time. With only moments remaining before the first biker emerged from sharp, tight bend in front of him, David drew out his new handgun from the rucksack and stood in the middle of the road.

  The first helmet-less biker raced furiously around the corner. Before he had time to straighten his bike, David shot him through the eye. The back of his head exploded like a burst apple. The dead biker slumped onto the handlebars as his bike, along with the unrecognisable, skinless carcass it was dragging, drove off the clifftop and into the great loch below.

  David immediately cursed his luck. He wanted at least one of the bikes in some kind of driveable condition so he could use it for himself, to complete the final leg of his journey. Well, that was the plan. He'd have to be more careful with his aim. Next time, he'd wait for the biker to straighten up on the road, then take his shot.

  A few seconds later, the two other bikers roared like a pair of torpedoes around the tight bend. This time David let his patience and mindfulness take over. He let the two bikers straighten up first and ride a little closer to him before he took any action. None of them flinched or even tried to reposition their bikes. Either they didn't see him or they just didn't give a shit about the crazy white man standing in the middle of their path, pointing a gun straight at them.

  One of the bikers finally tooted his horn just before David shot the two of them, bang, bang, one after the other. One in the face, right through his sunglasses, the other straight through his windpipe. The second bike flipped over a half dozen times, this way and that, before smashing into trees at the side of the road and exploding into hundreds of pieces. The third bike skidded along the road, straight for David, conveniently stopping only a few yards away from his feet.

  Miraculously, the biker was still alive, but severely injured as a bloodied, gaping hole appeared in his windpipe. Even a bit of daylight seeped in from the exit wound. David took a quick glance at the revolting, mutilated carcass still bound to the back of the motorcycle. The biker began coughing and spluttering blood, then pleaded for David to help him.

  David took a few steps closer and stood over the dying man. Slowly but surely, he un-cocked his gun and tucked it into the back of his trousers like he was about to sho
w the biker a little bit of mercy and just take his bike for his troubles.

  As soon as David's gun was securely placed back inside his belt though, he stamped his foot hard upon the biker's throat, shifting all his weight on top of him and crushing his neck and windpipe. It took less than a minute for the biker to stop struggling and become eerily still.

  ***

  David raced around the rolling mountainsides of Loch Leven on his newly attained motorcycle, tearing up the dust and stones on the rough single Highland road. As he emerged onto the rundown A82, a sign flashed by him, stating that Fort William was only a few miles up ahead.

  David slowed to a crawling speed as he rode into the town of Fort William. He'd been there many times in the past, but mostly always passing through on his way somewhere deeper into the heart of the Scottish Highlands. It suddenly occurred to him that the last time he'd been in the town was over a year and a half ago, when both he and his beloved Ashley had stopped for fuel and supplies in the local Morrison's superstore. They had been on their way to Ullapool in the northeast corner of Scotland, to their little cottage getaway for the first time.

  David rode past the now badly neglected Morrison's building. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that it had become a huge ethnic slave camp and market place. He glanced at the hundreds of white Nazi Brits queuing up outside, rowdily waiting their turn to buy and sell slaves who were paraded around the car park before being led into the main building.

  David continued riding up and down the housing streets in and around the town. With no maps, paper or internet, he was left to his own wits as he sought the address for which he'd been searching. As he rode, David found that some of the houses on the streets had been demolished or burnt to a crisp, while others had simply been left to rot from the inside out. Others seemed perfectly intact and were occupied by the families of the remaining Caucasian civilians of the new regime.