Plagued

by Barnett, Nicola

  Sarah was startled by his anger—his teeth were bared at her and she backed away from him slowly. Jack saw her fear and his face softened in the blink of an eye.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just so tired, Sarah, it’s been so hard here. You don’t know how difficult it’s been.”

  Sarah thought about her own battle, fighting their way through Witch’s Woods with nothing but a crowbar and a bat. It had been hard and she would have done anything she could to survive. Well, nearly anything. “So what happens now?” she asked, completely exasperated.

  “Now, you stay here for a while—maybe a day or two, and I’ll figure out a way to trade you both back home. I don’t know how, maybe they’ll take Annie’s shotgun. Whatever it is, I’ll do it, I promise. In the mean time I’ll talk to Duke. Tell him to leave you two alone,” Jack said.

  Sarah sighed. Jack reached for her hands, kissing the backs of them. She forced a small smile, enjoying the comforting touch. He moved in and kissed her and she tried hard not to tense against it.

  “I love you, Sarah,” he said, stroking her cheek.

  “I love you too,” she said, the fake smile growing heavy on her face.

  “Okay, I’m going to talk to Duke. I’ll come back to get you soon,” he said as he turned for the door. “Oh, I never had the chance to ask you. Do you remember much about what happened before the outbreak? Your mother told me that you’ve been struggling with memories,” he asked, nonchalant.

  Sarah frowned, trying to picture the scene of the bus stop. “No nothing. I remember hearing screaming and that’s it. The last thing I remember was having dinner with my friends in town that morning. That and little pieces from my childhood; my mum and dad, the dog. But it’s still foggy at the moment.”

  “Oh...” he said, thoughtfully. “Well don’t worry, baby, it will come back to you,” he said with a chirpy smile, and then left the caravan.

  Sarah watched him walk away. Mixed emotions ran through her head and she fought to make sense of them. She had no reason to doubt him but something niggled deep in the back of her mind.

  Jack walked up to Duke and patted him on the arm chummily. They clinked their beer cans together and talked for a few minutes, Duke throwing his head back in laughter occasionally. One of the girls ran to Jack with a hotdog and he took it without acknowledging her.

  Sarah’s eyes went to Mitch and Emily. Mitch was sitting on the ground where Sarah had been and was bouncing Emily up and down on his knee like a child. She tried to shake him off and he slapped her in the face. She then sat quietly on his knee, holding the side of her face. Sarah gritted her teeth in anger.

  Jack looked back towards Sarah in the window and smiled sweetly. Sarah waved back automatically without really paying attention. Then he shook Duke’s hand and slowly walked back to his car, shaking hands and high fiving a few of the men that he passed. Sarah felt uneasy. Something just wasn’t right.

  Chapter 15

  The candle burned down to the wick’s end and Sarah sat in the darkness, her mind racing. The caravan door burst open and Mitch pushed Emily inside. She cried out as she fell over the top step.

  “Now you two stay here and be good girls,” he said, slurring a little. “We’re gonna have to go make sure the area is safe. We don’t want any of those freaks ruining our good party, do we?” He laughed to himself as he left. The door slammed behind him.

  Emily lay next to Sarah on the bed, put her face into the pillows and wept as Sarah lit another candle. A warm, flickering glow lit the room, contrasting against the darkness outside.

  “It's okay,” Sarah purred, as she stroked Emily’s hair. “We’ll get out of here. Jack said he’s gonna come back for us, he’s gonna trade the shotgun. He said so himself.”

  As she spoke the sentence, she was hit with the stark realisation that Jack wasn’t coming back. One side of her wanted to believe it—to believe him, but the feeling that he lied to her was strong and it felt final. He never tried to find her the first time she disappeared, why would he do it now? Mark would have. She smiled to herself. Yeah, he would have. If he had any way of getting here, he would have done it.

  Emily stopped crying and looked at Sarah, her blonde hair matted to her wet face. “He won’t come back for us, Sarah,” Emily said, miserably.

  “But I’m his girlfriend. He loves me. I’m sure he will. He’s explained it all to me,” Sarah told her, trying not to sound as naïve and hopeless as she felt, “and I believe him.”

  Emily shook her head and looked down at the tear-stained pillow beneath her uncomfortably. “I’m so sorry, Sarah,” she said unhappily, tears spilling down her cheeks.

  “Whatever for?” Sarah asked, bewildered.

  Emily took a deep, slow breath. “When all this shit started, everything was chaos. Utter chaos. We were terrified, Sarah. People were dying in front of us and none of us knew what to do. There were twice as many people in the hall a few months ago, you know? Forty four altogether. Jack was the only person that wasn’t panicking. He was calm and collected and we needed that. We followed him without question. He was the one that told us to stay in the Centre; he got us to board up the all windows and doors. We felt a lot safer.”

  “I went with him to find food a few times but we came back empty-handed every time. Duke’s guys had got there first, and we didn’t have the fuel to go out and find more. I asked him whether we should go looking for you, Sarah, honestly I did. But he told me you were dead—he’d seen it with his own eyes and only just managed to escape himself. I believed him, Jamie believed him. Your parents believed him.”

  She stopped to wipe her eyes. “A few weeks ago, he started getting really friendly with me; he gave me extra food and one night he brought me some beer. I was so lonely and he was so comforting....I’m so sorry, Sarah,” she cried into her hands.

  Sarah sucked in air involuntarily; the words hit her like a blow to the stomach. She bit her lower lip to keep herself from screaming, the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Her best friend and her boyfriend—that old cliché. The urge to hurt Emily—to really hurt her—grew as she watched her friend weep pathetically into the pillow.

  Then she remembered her night with Mark and how happy she had been laid in his arms afterwards; how normal it had felt. She had no right to play the martyr. She wasn’t the only one who had suffered during the outbreak, Emily had to. Everyone had. Suddenly, she felt pity for her friend. Her anger disappeared and was replaced by shame—she had wanted to harm her oldest friend when really she had just been a frightened girl, looking for someone to save her. Sarah could relate—there was a time when she thought she needed to be saved, that she couldn’t do anything for herself. Then Mark showed her that it wasn’t true. He had faith in her.

  “It’s alright, Emily, I understand,” Sarah said, stroking her friend’s knotted hair. “The truth is—”

  “No,” Emily interrupted. “I’m not finished, and if he finds out that I told you, I’m a dead woman.”

  ~

  Emily cleared her throat and began talking quickly and nervously as Sarah waited to hear what she had to say. “Soon after we…you know...he changed. He told me if I told anyone about what we did, especially your parents, he’d leave and let Duke’s men do what he wanted to us. He said their safety was my responsibility now. Not like I was going to blurt it out anyway—I felt nothing but guilt. I told him exactly that and that it couldn’t happen ever again. It was a mistake. He didn’t take that too well,” Emily said, taking a shaky breath. “He said that if I wanted to ensure the safety of our group, I’d make sure he was kept happy.”

  Sarah sat in silence, appalled at what she was hearing. This isn’t happening.

  “I couldn’t believe it, he changed so quickly. I got angry and told him that I wasn’t going to be manipulated by him. I said we could look after ourselves. He didn’t like that,” Emily said, her voice breaking. Her bottom lip began to tremble.

&nbs
p; Sarah stroked her friend’s hand impatiently, concentrating more on her words than her pain.

  Emily smiled weakly and took a deep breath. “He dragged me into the bathroom and pushed me against the wall. I banged my head on the tiles and when I cried out, he hit me in the face. He told me to do what the fuck I’m told and called me a bitch. I was so angry at him, no one’s ever hit me before and you know what I’m like. I kicked him hard in the balls,” she let out a small, miserable laugh. “He fell on the floor and I tried to make a run for it, but he’s so fast! He grabbed my leg and pulled me back to him. He pulled a knife from somewhere inside his shirt, I had no idea he had it...”

  Emily wiped her eyes on the back of her arm. She was fiercely trembling. “He looked at me with his dead eyes and said, ‘You are mine.’ Then he…” Emily’s mouth curled up in disgust, “then he raped me. I tried to struggle, I really did but he pressed the knife against my throat...”

  Sarah stared at her, dumbfounded. Her mind swam with images of them together; of Emily’s distraught face as she pleaded with him to stop and of her boyfriend’s face as he raped her best friend. Everything suddenly made sense and there wasn’t a single moment of disbelief in Sarah’s mind. A strong sense of déjà vu came over her, it all felt very familiar but she couldn’t recall why.

  Seeing the torment in her friend’s eyes was too much for her. She fought back tears until she could no more. The world felt surreal; like a really bad dream that you would remember for days afterwards—but in this one there was no escape. They held each other and burst into tears; both of them were too emotionally drained to hold it in any longer. They clutched each other tightly as Sarah drifted slowly to sleep.

  ~

  Sarah awoke in the house she shared with Jack, but this time it was different. This time she knew she was dreaming and this one was a real memory; one that been lost to her.

  This was before the outbreak—back when Solitude was a peaceful place to live. She suddenly remembered that Jack had a steady job as a prison guard in Winding. How could I have forgotten that?

  She had been crying; her eyes stung and her nose was blocked, she had to breathe through her mouth. Her jaw throbbed painfully, making her wince every time she opened it to take a breath.

  It was sunny outside. The only sound was of birds singing on the rooftops and cars driving into the village.

  She heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

  She knew Jack was standing in the doorway behind her; she could feel his stony glare on the back of her head.

  “Feeling better now?” he said, in an emotionless tone.

  “A little,” she muttered, rubbing her jaw tenderly.

  “Good. Maybe now you will think twice before betraying my trust like that.”

  “I didn’t betray you. I went into town with my friends,” Sarah replied, angrily.

  “But I told you no!” he screamed, slamming his fist on the wall behind her.

  Sarah jumped and lifted her arms up to protect herself. “You aren’t my boss, Jack.” She tried sound angry and in control, but it came out in no more than a whisper.

  He stormed around to the front of the sofa until he towered above her. He grabbed her chin in his hands roughly. “That’s where you’re wrong, my love,” he said between gritted teeth. “I am your entire fucking world!”

  He slapped her across the already painful spot on her jaw with his free hand. She yelped as the explosion of pain shot through her head.

  “Stop it!” she screamed, guarding her face. Her jaw throbbed. Probably broken, she thought.

  He slapped her again and she screamed. With gritted teeth, he said, “I’ll do,” another slap, “what the fuck,” another slap, “I want!”

  He tried to slap her once more but she blocked his hand with her arm. His eyes opened wide and he stared at her for a moment, as if in shock by her new bout of courage. Then a dark smile crept on his mouth and Sarah realised she had made a mistake. He raised his arm back and swung a punch at the side of her face. The force knocked her head back and a hot wave of pain shot through her head, her ears rung. Dazed and her new courage now gone, she pulled her knees up onto the sofa and hid her head between them, crying hysterically. Her cheekbone was throbbing with searing pain and a warm liquid trickled down her cheek.

  Jack stood up, watching her cower before him and smiled cruelly. He looked at his fist and tutted at the sight of the blood dripping across his knuckle. He shook his head in mock disappointment. He reached down and lifted her head up to see the damage. Sarah let him. He examined the side of her face—the right side was covered in blood and a small gash ran across her cheekbone, close to her right eye.

  Then—as if annoyed by her pain—he rolled his eyes and left the room. The bathroom door closed and the sink’s taps turn on. He swore to himself about the mess on his hand.

  Sarah slowly got up from the sofa and the room span around her. Blood had never been her favourite thing. She wobbled around the sofa, using the furniture to keep her balance. She listened to him in the bathroom, the water was still running. She sneaked past the door, as silently as possible, willing her weak legs to keep going.

  Creeping down the hallway, she mapped the spots where the floorboards creaked and tried her best to avoid them. She irrationally wished she’d had the time to correct them as she carefully meandered her way to the front door.

  Jack’s coat hung on one of the hooks and she felt through his side pockets, thanking God as she felt the cold, hardness of his house keys. She grabbed them and held her breath as she tried desperately not to jingle them. Quietly, she opened the front door—it squeaked loudly and she froze in dread, her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes shut closed as she waited for his shout or his footsteps. There was no sound, so she quietly stepped outside on to the garden path and used his keys to lock to the door from the outside, hands shaking frantically.

  “Where the fuck are you going?!” Jack shouted through the bathroom window, startling her.

  She’d forgotten that the bathroom window overlooked the front path! The adrenaline cleared her head and panic took over; she bolted quickly out of the garden and down the road. Jack screamed at her in the background and she clenched her teeth as she ran, expecting his voice to get closer and closer.

  As she ran to the bus stop, a bus pulled in and without thinking, she jumped on it. She paid the driver with the change in her pocket and sat in the front seat, looking nervously towards the house. Jack was nowhere in sight. She sighed with relief and leaned back in the seat. People stared at her curiously, but she didn’t care.

  The bus left the village and she took a deep breath of relief. It was over. She had no plan of what to do next. All she knew was that she would get into town and then find the police station, report what happened, and ring her parents. Then maybe go to the hospital. After that, she didn’t know. And she didn’t care.

  The bus braked sharply and Sarah jolted awake, she had dozed off on the bus. They were a few feet short of the stop. Without thought, she jumped off and thanked the driver. Someone shrieked in the crowd in front of her. Sarah—being tired and light-headed—took a while to process the scene, but when she did, she didn’t quite believe it. People were running in all directions, knocking each other to the ground and trampling over them without sympathy.

  Someone banged into Sarah’s shoulder and nearly knocked her to the ground. She turned around to give the guilty party a mouthful, but when she saw the blood dripping down the back of his suede jacket, she changed her mind. What the fuck is going on? Panic rose—something was very wrong. The crowd was getting bigger and she was being knocked around like a rag doll, not one person looked back to apologize. Blood was everywhere.

  Sarah spun around, thinking it was better on the bus but the driver was already pulling away hastily. He looked around wide-eyed from inside the cabin as people ran into the side of the bus, screaming frantically at him. The passengers looked on with terrified faces as the bus driver sped off, knocking p
eople over as he went.

  A blood chilling scream came from directly behind Sarah and she turned around to see who owned the voice. The last thing she saw was a man running for her; blood covered his mouth and his right cheek dangled freely on his chin. Then she passed out.

  Chapter 16

  Sarah and Emily awoke to the sound of laughter outside the caravan. The candle had burned out long ago and it was still dark outside.

  The door opened and Duke entered, closely followed by Mitch, who was laughing hysterically.

  “Who turned out the lights?” Duke said in the darkness.

  Sarah heard a click and then a warm glow radiated around the room. Duke stood with a candle in his hand, which he placed on the side of the sink and then lit another.

  “Naw, ain’t that sweet, Duke. They’re all cuddled up waiting for us,” Mitch giggled and swayed on his feet.