by Hatchett
“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away!”
Mamba looked at Ahmed and mouthed ‘swearing, thieving and adultery’ with his eyes wide in mock surprise, and a small grin on his face.
Ahmed just shook his head slightly as if he had no idea what was going on.
A couple of new fires broke out in the middle of the lawn to their right. Everyone on the terrace were drawn to look that way, like moths to a flame, and could see what looked like a set of wooden stocks with a man bent over and his head and two hands sticking through the purpose-built holes. On either side of the stocks was one of the Enforcers and what looked like a bucket and large brush sticking out of it.
“They gonna give him one up the jacksie?” Mamba enquired.
The Reverend turned to him with a frown.
“This is the thief,” the Reverend said, “not the adulterer.”
“Shame. I now know what’s gonna happen,” Mamba replied.
They all watched as one of the Enforcers moved to the front of the stocks and grabbed the thief’s left hand and pulled until the man’s arm couldn’t go any further.
The second Enforcer pulled a previously hidden sword from behind the stocks and moved around to the front. He positioned the sword against the man’s wrist, and then drew the sword back over his head.
The thief was screaming and crying, alternating between pleading with the Reverend and calling him all the names under the sun.
The sword came down in an almost invisible swish and everything went silent as the first Enforcer allowed the man’s severed hand to drop to the lawn and blood started pumping out of the thief’s wrist in time with his heartbeat.
“Lucky he didn’t get the wrong hand,” Mamba commented with a short laugh. “I don’t think yer bodyguard woulda bin very happy.”
The thief came out of his shock and started screaming as the first Enforcer went to the bucket and picked up the brush. He proceeded to wipe it across the thief’s wrist, stopping the blood from spurting. The second Enforcer placed a long, thin piece of wood in one of the fires and withdrew it once it was alight. He placed it against the thief’s wrist and whatever had been brushed onto it was set alight. The thief’s screams grew louder as his wrist burnt, smoke rising into the night air. After a few seconds, one of the Enforcers placed a wet towel over the fire to put it out.
“You have to cauterize the wound,” the Reverend explained unnecessarily, “otherwise he would die from the loss of blood.”
“What did he steal?” Mamba asked with interest.
“A book.”
“Jus’ a book?” Mamba asked, amazed. “Jesus!”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, otherwise you might find yourself down on the lawn,” the Reverend threatened. “By all accounts, you should already be down there so you should tread very carefully.”
Mamba stared hard at the Reverend, the muscles in his face and neck taut and the red mist not too far away. As the two Enforcers behind Mamba and Ahmed stood to attention and moved forward slightly, Ahmed laid a gentle hand on Mamba’s arm to calm him down.
The Reverend smiled at the gesture and looked at Mamba’s face as if willing him to try something.
Mamba continued to stare at the Reverend, but the red mist was receding, and Mamba was thinking more clearly. ‘Wait and see what I have in store for you’, he thought to himself and smiled.
The Reverend was a little disconcerted by the smile and quickly turned back to the lawn, wondering if the Devil himself had decided to pay him a visit. He was pleased to see that two more fires had been lit, showing another man in a set of stocks, but this set was lower and had a bench, allowing the man to sit, but still with his head and hands trapped in the purpose-built holes.
As well as being lower, the stocks were tilted slightly, so that the man’s head was forced back, and he was looking upwards towards the roof of the house.
The first Enforcer produced a pair of sturdy metal tongs, like the sort you would expect a blacksmith to use. He forced the man’s mouth open and clamped the tongs onto the man’s tongue and pulled it out as far as it could go.
There was far less screaming this time around, for the obvious reasons, but the man was whimpering and crying as the second Enforcer appeared with a pair of industrial sized scissors. He proceed to place the blades either side of the man’s tongue and snapped them shut.
A spray of blood flew from the man’s mouth and the Enforcers quickly grabbed a piece of metal which had been sitting in the flames and between them, quickly cauterized the wound.
“This is gettin’ a bit borin’,” Mamba remarked. “I could help ya spice it up if ya want.”
“This is punishment, not entertainment,” the Reverend remarked without looking at Mamba. “You’re welcome to leave if you don’t like it or you’re bored.”
Mamba looked around the crowd and spotted the gleam of fanaticism and borderline madness in some of the attendee’s eyes.
He spotted the blond woman he had wriggled his tongue at earlier and saw that she looked as if she was close to having an orgasm. She was bent over slightly, her eyes were glassy, her face was sweaty, and she appeared to be breathing heavily. Mamba noticed her partner standing very close behind her, also with a flushed face and moving his hips slightly. Mamba then noticed that the woman’s skirt had been pulled up at the back and smiled dirtily and nudged Ahmed.
Ahmed followed Mamba’s gaze then turned back to him and grinned, although no one around the man and women appeared to be taking any notice at what they were up to.
The woman saw Mamba watching her and seductively licked her lips. He wondered what might be in store at the ‘after party’. Frankly, anything would be better than watching these punishments. These people had such little imagination.
Mamba noticed that the man was now also staring his way, so he smiled craftily as if he was in on the joke and turned back to the lawn, just as a couple more fires were lit.
Behind the fires were two stakes, rising about three metres into the air and a couple of metres apart. A man was tied to one of the stakes and a woman tied to the other. At their feet was piles of wood and other materials.
Mamba didn’t need to guess what was about to happen but his previous thoughts about bonfire night were obviously about to come true.
“Have ya got fireworks?” Mamba asked.
The Reverend looked up at him in distaste.
“I’ve already told you that this is punishment, not entertainment.”
“Tell that ta some of yer followers,” Mamba replied.
The Reverend looked at him in confusion, then glanced around at the people on the terrace. He didn’t spot what Mamba had seen, so he was still confused when he turned back to the stakes.
The two Enforcers had each lit lumps of wood and were holding the flame to the bonfire, which soon caught, and the flames started spreading.
It looked like the man and the woman had agreed some sort of pact, because they just stared into each other’s eyes in silence. The silence was soon broken as the first flames began to lap at their legs and the screams increased in volume in line with the rising flames.
“Bit over the top,” Mamba commented, as the first wafts of what smelled like cooked pork drifted over him.
“Everyone is well aware of the punishments for breaking the Law,” the Reverend replied, “so you really shouldn’t have any sympathy for them.”
“I don’t,” Mamba said, “but I could find betta ways ta use ‘em.”
“I don’t doubt it,” the Reverend agreed.
“So, what now?” Mamba asked.
“Now, everyone goes home.”
“No after party?” Mamba enquired, thinking of the blond woman.
“No. No after party,” the Reverend confirmed.
People started trickling back inside the house, the guests heading for the exit under the watchful eye of the Enforcers while the Underlings cleared up.
“Do you need an escort?” the Reverend asked.<
br />
“Nah, I think we can manage ta walk a few hundred metres without gettin’ lost,” Mamba replied sarcastically.
“Well, for your own safety, I recommend you don’t. You never know what’s around the next corner,” the Reverend said menacingly.
“Thanks, fer the…er…food,” Mamba said and turned and walked off quickly towards the exit. Ahmed was taken unawares by the quick departure and nodded to the Reverend before jogging to catch up, followed by the two Enforcers guarding them.
The Reverend smiled, thinking he had scared Mamba into a rapid retreat and the need to get back to his men as quickly as possible.
Ahmed caught up to Mamba and asked why he was in such a rush.
“I wanna find that blond bird,” Mamba said as he grabbed the two Glocks being held out for them, handed one to Ahmed and walked through the large double doors and down the front steps. “Ya can take out the bloke.”
The two Enforcers stayed at the threshold and watched Mamba and Ahmed stride along the path away from the house. Then they turned, went inside and closed the doors.
18
Day 20 – 21:00
New Eden
Mamba and Ahmed reached the end of the driveway and turned right into Church Street and away from St Bartholomew’s Church.
The road was dark, except for the odd beams of torchlight bouncing along towards the end of the road.
“Fuck! We’re too late,” Mamba observed, realising that the blond woman and the man with her could be anywhere by now.
He reached into his pocket for his own torch and pulled out the roll of bread instead. He took a quick bite then lobbed the remainder of the roll over the nearest hedge.
Mamba then reached back into his pocket as Ahmed found his own torch, but they were both distracted then they heard a ‘pssst’ coming from some bushes by the side of the road.
Mamba smiled, thinking it was the blond woman waiting for him, and started heading towards the bushes.
Ahmed, on the other hand, withdrew his Glock and approached the bushes more carefully.
Mamba looked over his shoulder and saw Ahmed with his gun and smiled.
“Ya don’t have ta kill the fucker, jus’ keep him busy while I take advantage of the bird,” he said.
When he was a couple of metres away from the bushes he stopped, trying to figure out exactly where the noise had come from.
“Where the fuck are ya?” Mamba whispered loudly.
“Shhh! Keep the noise down and don’t swear,” came the response.
Mamba was a little confused. He could understand keeping quiet, but he thought the blond woman would have more important things on her mind than swearing.
The bushes rustled and Chrissy stepped out, a couple of leaves stuck in her hair.
Mamba looked down in surprise.
“Err…what the fuck are ya doin’ here?” Mamba asked.
“Shhh!” Chrissy repeated. “The name you were looking for is ‘Chrissy’ but don’t wear it out. Just keep quiet and follow me.”
“Bossy! I like it,” Mamba remarked.
“Shut up, fool,” Chrissy shot back.
Chrissy headed back towards the church then took a path on her right.
Ahmed turned on his torch and Chrissy wheeled around.
“Turn that off!” she hissed. “We don’t want anyone seeing or following us. Don’t do anything, just follow me!”
“Can we breathe?” Mamba asked.
“What?” Chrissy asked, confused.
“I said, ‘can we breathe?’ You said don’t do anything but follow,” Mamba pointed out.
“Are you always this juvenile?” Chrissy asked with a snort of exasperation.
“Only when I’m tryin’ ta impress someone,” Mamba said.
“Well, it isn’t working,” Chrissy retorted. “Can we go now?”
“Lead on, but maybe we should give ya a head start.”
“Why?”
“Well, we can walk twice as fast as ya.”
“Funny.”
Chrissy turned and started walking away.
“Just keep quiet for the time being!” she added.
Mamba nudged Ahmed in the ribs.
“She likes me,” Mamba whispered.
“Funny way of showin’ it,” Ahmed replied.
“I can still hear you,” Chrissy complained from the darkness ahead.
Mamba shrugged and he and Ahmed started walking after her.
After twenty metres or so the path curved to their left and seemed to disappear into the darkness. They were heading away from town and Mamba and Ahmed were beginning to wonder where they were being taken. It smelled like a trap.
They could see the silvery outline of trees to their left and behind that, the rear of the church and the cemetery with moonlight glinting off some of the cleaner headstones.
A further hundred metres and they were still on the same path with grass on either side and the odd tree appearing now and again. They were effectively in the middle of a field so there was little chance of anyone managing to creep up on them and take them by surprise, making Mamba and Ahmed breathe that much easier.
They could see Chrissy’s outline ahead and hear her footsteps, but Mamba still wondered where they were heading and why he was following. He didn’t know anything about her.
“That’s it,” Mamba said, coming to a halt. “I ain’t goin’ another inch.”
Chrissy ignored him and continued walking for a few paces, expecting Mamba to give in and start walking again, but when he didn’t, she stopped, turned around then walked back towards him.
“What’s the matter? You scared of the dark?” she said, looking up at him.
Mamba laughed, looking down at her.
“Look, just stop messing around and let’s get where we’re going. We’ll then have cover and be safe and you can talk all you want,” she promised.
“How do I know that?” Mamba said. “How do I know yer not leading us ta a bunch of the Rev’s men who’re gonna try ‘n carve us up?”
“You think I’m part of the Reverend’s group of sycophants?”
“It had crossed my mind, but I thought ya’d at least try ‘n tempt me ta follow ya with the promise of a shag or summat, not some shit ‘bout safety.”
“Let me tell you something, buster,” Chrissy shot back, getting annoyed, “that bastard treats me like shit. He doesn’t look at me unless he has to and thinks I’m already cursed by the Devil due to my size. So, do you still think I’m trying to stitch you up?”
“Maybe. How ya gonna prove yer not?”
Chrissy stared at him, and even though she couldn’t see his face that well, she could tell by his stance that he wasn’t going to move unless she gave him something.
“I’m trusting you here,” she started. “Can I trust you?”
“Not really, but ya ain’t got no choice.”
“OK. We’re going to meet Ernie.”
Mamba smiled.
“OK, lead the way.”
“That easy?” Chrissy asked in surprise.
“I’m very easy when ya get ta know me,” Mamba replied.
Chrissy tutted, turned and strode off.
Mamba looked at Ahmed.
“Definitely likes me,” he said.
“I heard that, and no, I don’t,” came floating back on the light breeze.
“She’s got good ears,” Ahmed suggested.
“I ain’t interested in her ears,” Mamba replied.
“What was ya gonna say earlier?” Ahmed asked.
“When?”
“In the house. Ya said ya’d tell me later.”
“Oh, that. I was jus’ gonna ask if ya could imagine getting a blowie from her; she could do it standing up straight!” Mamba said, with a barking laugh.
“Most women can do it ta me standin’ up too, unless they are very tall,” Ahmed pointed out, “so what’s all the fuss ‘bout?”
Mamba was puzzled for a few seconds before considering Ahmed’s height
and the length of his…
“Why’d ya have ta ruin it?” Mamba asked. “Can’t a man have a dream?”
“I can still hear you two morons,” Chrissy called over her shoulder.
“Fancy tryin’ it out then?” Mamba said loudly back.
“In your dreams,” Chrissy replied.
They had walked a further hundred metres by this time and a hedge and a row of trees to their right came closer with every step.
“How much further?” Mamba asked.
“Another two or three hundred metres,” Chrissy replied.
For the next hundred metres they walked parallel to the trees and hedge, well past the town’s limits. For the following hundred metres, the path curved left again so they moved further away from the trees and hedge again. They sped up and caught up to Chrissy.
“We ain’t goin’ in a big circle are we?” Mamba asked.
“No, just a curve. We had to follow the path, or we could have got lost and been wandering around the field for a while. Tonight isn’t so bad with the moon out, but when there’s fog or heavy rain…” Chrissy let the sentence go.
Mamba looked over his shoulder. He could still just about see the church, with Corsham Court further to the right, although the fires on the Northern lawn were now pretty much out, just a few embers flying into the air every now and again.
Another thirty metres and the path curved sharply to their left.
“Nearly there,” Chrissy said. “Corsham Lake is on our left,” she added.
Mamba and Ahmed looked and could see the moonlight reflecting off the surface of the water before they entered a small copse of trees which blocked the view.
They passed a cottage on their left, which was still and silent and looked uninhabited. Then they reached a point where the path split, and Chrissy headed to their right. A few metres later and they were walking alongside what looked like a large barn.
“We’re at the farm,” Chrissy confirmed, as if reading their minds.
After twenty metres, she rounded the corner of the barn and they found themselves in a sort of quad, with the old farmhouse set back to their left, another larger and newer barn opposite the farmhouse and some other sort of outbuilding along the other side. Chrissy strode across the concrete to the larger barn at the far end, which was more industrial in nature. She walked up to the door and tapped three times.