21/11/2027 - Time 20:40
Emma woke up in the early hours, before the sun had started its pointless journey into our sky. At first she was just whimpering, so I left her, but it soon became a full on scream, so I rolled over to calm her down. I wondered what horrors had presented themselves to her, as I held her close, and stroked her head, softly reassuring her. ‘Everything is going to be OK, I promise you. Everything is going to be OK.’ Just like when she was a baby, but this time I had to convince myself too. When I opened the door to the building we had spent the night in, I had a feeling outside would look a bit different than it had yesterday. The snow we had dealt with for the previous day had been washed away by the storms overnight, the building battered for hours by the rain. I had forgotten to check the bodies of the parents last night, so decided to go back and search them for anything worth keeping, while Emma was still asleep. I walked back around the lake to the bench, pulled the blankets off and searched them, turning them over, but I found nothing of value. I covered the bodies up with the damp blankets and headed back towards Emma. When I got there, I was confronted by a flustered looking daughter. ‘Where were you daddy? I thought you had gone.’
‘I told you I would never leave you, you know that.’
‘But you did, I didn’t know where you were.’
‘I was only over there’ I said, pointing at the lake. ‘I could see you the whole time.’
‘But I couldn’t see you, I was scared you had gone, promise me you won’t do that again dad.’
‘Okay, I promise.’
I felt the boy’s clothes that had been hung up to dry overnight, they were still a little damp, but no more than Emma’s own clothes. I folded them up and placed them next to her, telling her to try them on. ‘Where did you get them from?’ She asked, trying to hide a yawn with her hand.
‘I found the bodies of a family’ I replied.
‘Were they all dead?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Was there a dead boy?’
‘Yes, he had frozen to death.’
‘How old was he?’
‘I’m not sure, around your age.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘Do you need to? It won’t change anything.’
‘I still want to see him.’
She put the clothes on, which fitted pretty well, only needing a little turn up on the length of the legs. I certainly felt happier with her appearance, you would have to look very closely to realise she’s not a boy. While we ate breakfast, sat on our fold up chairs, I emptied Emma’s pant pockets into my hand. It consisted of sweet wrappers, a plastic ring, other pretend jewels and the 9mm bullet she had decorated. I handed them over to her and she put them in her new pants pocket, we then quickly packed our rucksack and set off towards the lake. When we reached the tarpaulin, I lifted it aside with my crowbar, revealing the three bodies covered in blankets. I wasn’t sure I should let her look at him, but she’s going to have to deal with death, and will see worse things in the future. She bent over his body and lifted the blanket off his face, looking at him for a few seconds before covering him up again. ‘Do we really need to take his clothes dad?’
‘He doesn’t need them any more, and you do.’
‘But it doesn’t feel right, leaving him here like this.’
‘What do you want me to do with him?’
‘I don’t know, do you think they were nice people?’
‘I think they were good people, who would want you to have these clothes, they would be happy that they could help people like us.’
‘Could you bury him?’
‘Not without a spade, the ground is too hard.’
‘I don’t want to leave him like this.’
I could see she wasn’t going to change her mind, so I suggested we burn his body in a Viking style funeral on the lake, after a bit of persuading she agreed. I dismantled their makeshift camp, to find pieces for the raft, pulling the wooden door down and placing it on top of the tarpaulin, which I had laid out on the edge of the lake. Emma collected branches off the floor, while I placed the boys body on top of the door. We both carefully put the branches over the top of him as neatly as possible, until he had completely disappeared. I poured over a little lighter fluid, set fire to some waste paper we found in the electrical building, and threw it on. We both pushed the raft into the middle of the lake, and stood watching as the wet branches final began to catch fire. Emma thanked the boy for his clothes, and said a prayer for him and his parents, that they were now safe in heaven. We stood for a few minutes warming ourselves, as the huge crackling fire burned, lighting up the whole lake, the vibrant flames rippling across the water, pumping dirty black smoke into the sky. We left shortly after, before anyone could be alerted to the darkening clouds. The conditions were the best we had experienced since we left my farm, the snow had gone and the winds had dropped. Although it was still cold, the floor had started to defrost, but it was hard enough to walk comfortably. I was happy with Emma’s appearance, so I allowed her to walk by my side, which she did for the first few hours. I had driven down the road we were following on many occasions, to visit Bernard. I would gaze out of the window at the incredible Scottish countryside, sweeping vistas and stunning valleys. It’s amazing the contrast between the highs and lows you can view over just a mile driving, but walking the same hills is an altogether different experience. But knowing we were this close to Bernard’s helped to spur us on, after a few hours a river appeared on our right I identified as the Nith, it stayed with us for a while and then headed off to the west. I have sat in ‘The Riversend’ pub overlooking the river Nith on many occasions, it’s located ten minutes walk from Bernard’s property along Edinburgh Road. The back patio opens out over the river, and the front overlooks the high street. When the river came back around on itself, we picked it up again and followed it until we reached the pub, cutting out as much of the town as possible. Bernard’s property is located ten minutes walk into the centre, down a side street. He has owned the weapon shop for over twenty years, and lives in the flat above. First we would have to navigate the town centre, I could see the red brick wall of the pub from some distance away, the thatched roof had partly collapsed at the back but it was still recognizable. The river was as high as I have ever seen it, come to think of it, all the rivers we have past have been struggling to contain the mass of extra water from the storms. We climbed over the sty, into the beer garden and made our way towards the building. The tables still had cutlery laid out, menus sat in their racks, any glass not smashed and still standing was full of ash. I climbed up the wooden stairs to the back entrance and wiped the dust off the patio windows to look inside, it had been trashed, with the remains of tables and chairs smashed across the floor. I held Emma’s hand and we walked around the side of the building to the front, where there was a high wooden fence following the path with a gate at the end. I quietly unhooked the latch and opened the gate, peering around the side of the building and down Edinburgh Road. It looked deserted, the wind was blowing dust and ash from building to building, it was littered with abandoned vehicles and rubbish, but there was no sign of life. I tightened my grip on Emma’s hand and pulled her along as we walked past the front of the pub, and onto the dusty road. There was a car in front of us, destroyed by falling stones from the side of the building opposite. We walked in between the bricks and other debris, past the car and on towards Bernard’s. We were slow and deliberate, looking at every building, through every window, as carefully as we could. Shortly after we had past the town hall, I heard the noise of a engine in front me and pulled Emma into the nearest shop front. The glass crunched as we ran across the floor of the newsagent’s, trying to find some stairs. The room was littered with anything looters had discarded, I ran up and down the aisles, looking for the stairs. When I got to the counter, I noticed a dark brown door behind it. We went around and op
ened it unveiling a stairwell, it was dark and damp inside, I could hear water droplets dripping by my head as I closed the door at the bottom and we climbed the stairs. There was another door at the top that was half open, we went inside and shut it behind us. The room stunk of cigarettes, the nicotine was dripping off the walls, the room had a table and chairs, a bed, a sofa, and a toilet with a sink. There was no belongings left inside, they had even taken the pictures off the wall leaving squares of colour behind, unaffected by the nicotine. I ran over to the window and moved the netting to the side, it was caked in ash, but I could just about see through it. I strained to look up the street, searching for the source of the noise, then I saw them. Three men at first, then four, they ran across the street entering the buildings on the opposite side of the road. I put my face against the window and I could see more men on this side of the road. I searched the room, trying to find somewhere we could hide, a bed, a table, there was nothing that would really work. I took my rucksack off my back and put it on the bed, pulling my gun out and placing it on the table. Even though it had no bullets, it might be needed to scare someone. I told Emma to get under the bed and moved back to the window, outside the men had moved onto the next house. A truck had appeared in the centre of the road, it was travelling very slowly, smoke pouring from its exhaust. Stood on the back were two men with rifles and a group huddled at the front. I took my binoculars out to get a better look at the vehicle, I think the group huddled together at the front were women, but I couldn’t be sure. In houses opposite, I could see a man walking through the downstairs of the building, searching in every room. He looked inside cupboards and under tables before heading upstairs, he then checked in wardrobes and under beds, they left nothing to chance. If the front doors were locked, they would climb through the lower level windows, smashing the glass first if there was any. The only buildings they ignored were the ones they couldn’t get to, flats with no low level access or doors they were unable to breach. The flat we were in was above a shop, would they notice the stairwell up to this room? I told Emma to get out from under the bed, if they came into this bedsit and found us hiding, they would surely take her and kill me. I told her to sit at the table, and I covered my gun up with the rucksack. I looked out of the window again, there were men milling around outside this property, I took my crowbar off my rucksack and leaned it against the side of the sofa. I heard the sound of feet in the room below, glass crunching, and men laughing. I stopped moving and concentrated, I couldn’t hear anything else, maybe they had gone. I glanced at the window, the truck had continued up the road and had now stopped, maybe thirty yards away. I heard a sound below us, as the door to the stairwell opened, and footsteps climbed the creaking staircase to the door at the top. I sat down on the bed as the door handle rotated and then opened. Stood in the doorway was a disgusting individual, fat with a big brown beard and a shaven head, he had a black and red tattoo that stretched across the left side of his face and neck. He wore a big black jacket and jeans, holding his rifle by his side. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ He said, in low gravelly voice.
‘We’re not doing anything.’
‘Why are you still here? You were told to leave the area weeks ago.’
‘We’ve got nowhere to go.’
‘That’s not my problem, Mr. Torriero’s opened a camp in the local church, you should be there.’
‘Oh right, come on James, we better be on our way.’ I walked over towards my rucksack, but the man spoke before I had chance to pick it up.
‘So this is your boy is it?’ Suddenly taking an interest in Emma.
‘What’s your name little fella?’
‘James’ replied Emma.
‘That’s a good strong boys name, how old are you James.’
‘Seven.’
‘Really? Seven, you are a big boy.’
The man walked right up close to her and stopped, he bent down until his face was next to hers and said, ‘I’m sorry to have to do this James, but I’m going to have to ask you to take your clothes off.’ He turned his head to face me before continuing, ‘I’m sure you understand, I don’t want to but I have my orders.’
‘Come on mate, there’s no need for that, we’ll just be on our way.’
‘Oh sorry, I cannot let you go until I’m happy this little fella is definitely a boy.’
Emma was just looking at me, waiting to see what I said, but I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know what to say.’
‘Come on James, get your clothes off’ he said. ‘Then you can be on your way.’
I could see Emma’s bottom lip starting to wobble, she unzipped her jacket and pulled her arms out, placing it on the sofa.
‘Come on, come on’ he shouted, ‘I haven’t got all day.’ She was trying not to cry, but her eyes were becoming redder and redder. I felt helpless, it was so upsetting, tears were rolling down her face as the man was barking orders at her, there was nothing I could do. ‘That’s enough’ I said. ‘He’s down to his shirt and pants, it’s freezing cold you know, he’ll end up ill.’
‘I will tell you when it’s enough’ the man replied. ‘Take your top off and then your pants.’
‘I don’t want to take my pants off, please daddy’ she said, looking at me for some kind of help.
‘Take your fucking pants off now’ he shouted, waving his rifle in Emma’s direction. I looked out of the window overlooking the street, the truck had now moved out of sight, but I could still hear it, I walked around the sofa so I was closer to Emma. She was now down to her pants and underpants, she was struggling to get her jeans off with her boots still on. ‘Take your boots off first you fucking clown’ he shouted. She was now in floods of tears, trembling with fear. She got her jeans off and stood up in front of the man, dressed in just a pair of underpants. He was leering at her, using his gun to point, I walked around to my crowbar, leaning against the sofa, fortunately he hadn’t been around this side of the room. ‘Now the underpants’ said the man, ‘Take them off.’ Emma looked at me with tear drenched eyes, her fingers hovering around the waist band. The man was standing between us, but he only had eyes for her, I picked up the crowbar in one quick motion and ran at him. He realised I was approaching, and took evasive measures, but I still managed to connect with his back and neck with the crowbar, he dropped the rifle and winced at the impact, putting his hands up to his head. I kicked the rifle under the bed and swung at him again but he ducked and it ripped into the wall sending discoloured plaster spraying across the floor, I swung again but this time he caught the edge of the crowbar with his right hand. We wrestled with the it, each landing ineffectual blows before he forced me over the arm of the sofa and onto the floor. I fought with all my strength, but he was strong, the weight of his body was crippling me. I wasn’t aware exactly where Emma was, but I could hear her whimpering, as he pushed me down onto the floor with the crowbar across my neck. I could see his rifle under the bed, I stretched my arm out but it wouldn’t grow the few inches needed to reach it. I pulled my arm back, struggling to keep the pressure from the crowbar off my neck. He was above me looking down, his eyes widened as he moved in for the kill. I couldn’t lift the weight off my neck, his face got closer and closer until I could smell his foul breath. He was that close, for a few seconds all I could focus on was the greasy pours of his skin, until my eyesight started to blur, whiten, he spoke to me in a quiet, almost reassuring voice. ‘Before I give her to Mr. Torriero, I’m going to rape her, and then I’m going to give her to every man on that truck, and they are all going to rape her. I just wanted you to know that, before you die.’ I was drifting towards unconsciousness, with his words rolling around my head, when the pain suddenly disappeared, the weight on my chest and throat ceased. I was coughing, from deep down in my chest, my eyesight flooded back, and I looked up to find Emma stood above me, with her arms out in front holding my Welrod. The man was slumped over me, with a pool of blood
forming to my side. I pushed him off and rolled over, still coughing and spluttering to face her. ‘Dad, dad’ she cried. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes love, I’m fine.’
‘I shot him dad, I shot him.’
‘I know you did, you did well Emma, but we have to go, get your clothes on.’ I staggered over to the window to gauge how far away the truck was, it was out of sight, only a couple of men were still visible, walking away from us. I helped Emma finish getting dressed, and we grabbed all our belonging, heading down the stairs, through the newsagent’s and onto the street. We stuck as close to the shop fronts as possible and ran as fast as we could away from the building, avoiding any debris on the floor. I pulled Emma along, her feet barely touching the floor. When we reached Bernard’s side street, I glanced behind us to check we weren’t being followed, before sprinting across the main road and down the cobbled ally. You could be forgiven for missing Bernard’s place, if you didn’t know it was there. Hidden within a U shaped building, it was hard to tell there was even a flat there, never mind a shop. It had nothing visible to distinguish it as a premises, and was accessed by just one door, surrounded by big industrial bins. Bernard’s wife Maureen had died of cancer some ten years ago leaving him with a large critical illness payout, so he didn’t really need to work, but he enjoyed the social side of it. He was a striking man, topping out at around six foot four, even at an age somewhere over seventy, he was still a formidable character. A decorated veteran of both the Iraq wars, he settled in Dumfries with his wife, running a small ammo shop selling to veterans. He had known my father for over fifty years, they worked together for a while just out of college, and had consequently become good friends of mine. Emma knows him as uncle Bernard, although he had no family connection, he has always been a part of our lives. The metal rollers were pulled down over the door and locked, but this was normally the case, he always left a key under the nearest bin to the door, behind the far right wheel. The bin was so heavy with compacted black ash, I couldn’t move it. I knelt down in the wet, and moved the bits of rubbish away until I found the key. I expected the noise created by opening and shutting the rollers might alert anyone inside to our presence, and sure enough, by the time I had re-locked the door, Bernard was standing at the top of the stairs with a shotgun looking down the stairwell at us. ‘Well God damn me’ he said, ‘I thought I would never see a friendly face again.’
Aftermath: The complete collection Page 18