Human Nature (Book 3): Human Nature III

by Borthwick, Finlay

  “Yeah, I remember. He was a forgetful sod, your father,” Gwen jeered in a hearty way. “There was this one summer afternoon, it must’ve been the final day of the school year, and he forgot to pick you up… Crikey, you must’ve been about seven or eight. I was absolutely pissed at him. I remember--”

  “You were ranting and raving in the car on the way back home.” Annabelle interrupted, being able to recall this story for herself. “You used more slurs in those ten minutes than in the rest of my life.”

  They both chuckled.

  “And then you jokingly said ‘I’m gonna strangle him to death, I am!’ And I broke down into tears,” Annabelle recollected. “You stormed inside the house, and I remained in the car. You’d left your phone in front of the gearbox, and there was a call from Andy. I remember answering it, and telling him what you had just said…”

  “…And he came over to make sure it really was just a joke,” Gwen resumed the story. “Oh wow, the look on his face… Had to be a police officer, of all things, didn’t he?”

  “I miss Andy sometimes.” Annabelle confessed, as the shared laughter fizzled out.

  “Yeah.” Gwen bluntly agreed, as an awkward silence filled the kitchen. “I’ll go see if Petra has some.” She quickly rose to her feet and paced over to the doorway.

  “Did you ever forgive me?” Annabelle rushed the question in before her mother could leave the room, causing both to freeze on the spot.

  “For what?” Gwen retorted without turning around; she knew what Annabelle was referring to but didn’t want to acknowledge the matter.

  “You know ‘what’, mum,” Annabelle’s eyes dipped into remorse, “Please, just tell me.”

  Gwen still faced into the hallway away from her daughter, but declared “You did what you thought you had to do… I still love you.”

  “Not what I asked.” Annabelle reiterated the question, “Did you forgive me for it?”

  Gwen cleared her throat, “No.”

  The deathly silence took control of the atmosphere again, as Gwen left the room without another word.

  Annabelle remained motionless in the kitchen; completely heartbroken and shattered.

  Aside from the houses, there was also a petrol station in the village. The group had renovated the small shop attached to it and turned it into a makeshift medical bay.

  Nikola was wide awake on one of the beds, surrounded by Tina, Andre, and Alek.

  “I know what I saw,” Nikola insisted, “There was somebody there.”

  With his arms crossed, Andre looked up at Tina, watching her make notes on a clipboard; she was one of two fully trained doctors in the group, the other of course being Erica.

  “Can you describe any specifics about this ‘face’?” Tina enquired. “Anything will do. Nose shape, eye colour, structure, and so on…”

  “It was a mask, I think… I don’t know the specifics.” Nikola had trouble pronouncing the word ‘specifics’; it was a new English lexis to her.

  “How can you be sure it was a mask?” Tina followed-up.

  “It was grey. The face was blank.” Nikola said for, what felt like, the one-hundredth time.

  Alek leant over to Andre and whispered something in Czech in his ear; which both Nikola and Tina overheard.

  “Is there something you’d like to share with us?” Tina called them out. “The language barrier is not to be used for harbouring secrets; Elliot and Annabelle made this extremely clear, did they not?”

  “Not a secret.” Andre expressed, “Just a ‘thing’.”

  “Well, if it’s not a secret, then share with us what you said, why don’t you?” Tina put the clipboard down on the tray behind her. “Well go on then, what is it?” She looked between the two of them with wide eyes.

  “They are talking about me.” Nikola guessed. “They think I am mad.”

  “No, not at all.” Alek raised his hands, as if to make a comforting gesture.

  “Yes, yes we do.” Andre completely contradicted their defence. “There was no face, Nikola. None of us saw it, it was just the heat messing with you. This is all very unneeded. You have slept, now you are well again.” He looked up at Tina again, “Heat, doctor. Just heat.”

  Tina nodded and sighed, “I hate to agree with him Nikola, but he’s right. Based on what you’ve told me, it seems unlikely you saw someone in the grass yesterday.”

  “No!” Nikola clenched her fists and slammed them against the sides of the bed, swinging her legs over the mattress and sitting upright. “I know what I saw! I know!” She bellowed, reiterating her stance once again.

  “You need to calm down,” Tina politely told her.

  “No! You will not believe me! So, I will not listen!” She screamed into Tina’s face.

  “Nikola! Ne!” Andre grabbed her arm, but she shook his grip off instantly.

  “Ne! [Don’t!]” She protested and pushed him back with her arm.

  “I’m going to tell you this once more,” Tina advised her, still trying to remain polite, “Calm down…”

  “Or what?” Nikola stood up now, leaving her and Tina face-to-face.

  Andre tried once again, using both of his arms to restrain Nikola this time.

  Nikola grunted, violently shook free of his grip again, and then pushed him to the ground.

  “Stop!” Alek grabbed her and restrained her down onto the bed; Nikola was unable to shake off his far studier grip. “Calm, calm…” Alek said in an almost hypnotic tone. “Look at me. Nikola,” he moved one of his hands to her jaw, stopping her from violently shaking her head, as the two looked into each other’s eyes. “Nikola, zklidni se… [Calm down…]” He loosened his grip on her jaw, as she began to stop resisting. “Nadechnout… [Breathe…]” And slowly, Nikola finally calmed down again.

  Tina took a deep breath of relief. However, these events had created a new set of problems for her; just how far could heatstroke drive some of these people?

  Elliot was spending time visiting members of the group. He chatted with some of them down on the riverbank, with others they stood on one of the bridges, and with some he went into their houses for a while.

  He was currently standing on the porch of Petra’s house, having a conversation with her.

  “You are a wonderful man,” Petra told Elliot, as she caressed his hand. “Yesterday, I could see it on your face; loneliness.”

  “I’m not alone, Petra.” Elliot said with a smile, “I know now that I’ve got all of these people. We’re finding new people as we go along as well. Perhaps within a year, we’ll have a proper micro-society here.” He revealed his ambition.

  “You may have ten thousand people with you, Elliot, but sometimes they will not compare to that one which lives in your heart.” Petra philosophised, being able to read Elliot’s expressions.

  “I forgot you were a psychologist in the old days.” Elliot recollected.

  Petra laughed. “Who was she then?”

  Elliot was hesitant to answer that question at first, but then quickly decided that, if he wanted the dead to be remembered, then he should start sharing his thoughts. “She was a wonder,” Elliot began, “A needle in a haystack. There was no other girl quite like her… We just, we connected. We were both teenagers. I dated one of her friends first actually; Lucy,” Elliot had to pause, for this was the name of somebody he had lost long before the apocalypse.

  “And then?” Petra prompted him, seeing this sadness on his face.

  “Lucy died.” Elliot’s throat went hoarse, so he took a moment to clear it. “Sorry, um…”

  “It’s ok, my friend.” Petra put her hand on his shoulder, “Feelings are better outside, than inside.” She felt some level of pride upon forming this sentence; it seemed like advanced English to her.

  “She had a younger sister, who was dating my best friend. Her name was Maddy, and his name was Ryan. I got a call one bitter Winter morning, and I was told that Ryan took his own life…”

  Petra rubbed Elliot’s back, “How awful.”
She too was feeling emotional now but struggled to emphasise this with her voice.

  “As for Maddy, I don’t know what happened to her.” Elliot faced up to the sky. “I hope she’s still alive out there somewhere…”

  Realising that he had digressed, Elliot moved back to Petra’s original question. “The girl that you’re asking about, her name was Olivia. We were separated for a while, but we found each other again amid all this. She and her brother were running a camp, like this one, on the edge of London. Long story short, her brother died, my group rallied up the survivors, including Erica and Tina, and we all ventured off to find a new home. Eventually, we did… And that’s where Olivia lost her life, and I lost my heart.”

  “Oh my,” Petra continued to comfort Elliot. “Well, thank you.”

  Elliot snivelled, “For what?”

  “For speaking about her.” Petra answered, “You want us to remember those you have lost? Well, now I can pray for your Olivia.”

  “Yes… Please, thank you. It would mean a lot to me if you could pray for her, or just recognise her on some level.” Elliot begged.

  “I would love to… And I will do it in English! In the language that you have taught me so very well; for Olivia.” Petra respectfully agreed.

  “What about you?” Elliot asked out of kindness, “Were you married? Did you have any children?”

  “No husband.” Petra shook her head, “But I had a son.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Lukas.” Now, it was Petra who had the gloomy expression, but Elliot obviously could not see this. “He was seventeen when…”

  “When it happened?”

  Petra nodded without verbally answering this question.

  “Do you pray for him?” Elliot said this out of respect, despite how obvious the answer may have been.

  “Yes. Every morning and every evening.” Her breathing grew heavier, indicating she was fighting back tears.

  “Then I will tell the others of your Lukas.” Elliot mimicked Petra’s words about Olivia; they had both lost someone they loved and wanted to make sure their respective loved ones were remembered. For Petra, this would be prayer, but for Elliot, it was all about making sure those who were still standing understood these losses.

  “Thank you.” Petra put her hand on his shoulder.

  From down by the road, Erica looked up at Petra’s house, noticing she and Elliot standing on the porch. Then, she shouted up, “Elliot!”

  Immediately, both Petra and Elliot looked down in her direction.

  “It is Erica,” Petra mumbled to Elliot, just in case he couldn’t recognise her voice when it was raised.

  “We have a problem!” Erica followed up.

  “What do you mean?” Elliot yelled back.

  “Look!” She pointed over to the mountains on the other side of the river; there was a man on horseback approaching one of the bridges.

  “Who is that?” Petra expressed in shock.

  “What is it? What’s going on?” Elliot asked in a flurry.

  “There is a man on a horse,” Petra revealed blatantly, “He is wearing ‘cream’ clothes. He is looking very… Fancy?”

  “Are you having me on?” Elliot suspected, finding it hard to grasp the concept of a man in a tuxedo approaching the town.

  “What?” Petra didn’t understand what Elliot meant, “Am I having you what?”

  “Uh…” Elliot didn’t know how to explain the phrase ‘having me on’. “Just, never mind…”

  The man on the horse had already drawn attention from other members of the group.

  “Erica!” Gwen, who was on the way to Petra’s house to get more bleach still, rushed over to her friend, upon noticing the man. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”

  Erica shrugged.

  Gwen turned to her right and looked up, noticing Petra describing the situation to Elliot.

  “Gwen,” Erica tapped her to regain her attention. “We don’t know how dangerous this situation is.” She could see others, including Dawn, approaching from Gwen’s direction, “Keep them all back. I’ll handle this.”

  Gwen nodded, and ran back down the road, in order to keep everyone out of range.

  Erica stood firmly, watching as the man crossed over the bridge, and tipped his hat to her. As he came closer into view, she could make out two lapel badges on his tuxedo. They were both letters; a ‘J’ and a ‘V’…

  Chapter 7: Rushed Reunion

  Naomi was hanging towards the back of the group of savages. They were slowly pursuing a man who had ran into a nearby village, and they were out to kill him.

  Why the group were like this, she had no idea. Their communication was mostly grumbling and war cries, with the occasionally decipherable word.

  Despite the blank and emotionless look on her face, Naomi felt a lot of pain on the inside. To her left, her right, and in front of her, she could see several young children with weapons who were in amongst this group. She felt guilty about being unable to help them in any way.

  The savages entered the village and filtered out around a war memorial square.

  As she passed the cottage house next to the memorial tomb itself, a weird feeling came across Naomi; she felt as though someone was watching her somehow.

  Nonetheless, she continued to stagger on through the village, as the savages populated every road and corner.

  Night fell, and the man still had not been found.

  Naomi rested against one of the house walls.

  One of the savages, dressed only in torn-up shorts, approached her. He appeared to be in his late twenties, with yellow teeth, greasy hair, and an awful stench around him. He offered Naomi a raw fish.

  “Eat.” He said with a grating and almost animalistic voice.

  Hesitantly, Naomi accepted the fish, and took a bite out of it. She pretended to swallow the chunk in her mouth.

  The man snatched the fish from her and then moved on to the next savage further down that road.

  Discreetly, Naomi turned to her side, and spat the chunk of raw fish out onto the ground.

  Day broke, and still, the man had not been found.

  Naomi was still resting against the same house wall; and had not slept.

  Then, she heard an ear-piercing scream from one of the kids. In an instant, she jumped to her feet, and moved in the direction of the sound; some of the savages, however, chose to flat-out ignore the scream.

  Approaching the memorial, Naomi stopped, and listened carefully, trying to navigate where exactly the scream came from.

  Then, she heard two consecutive winces in the cottage house. She took a deep breath, gripping her machete, and ran in to check out the commotion.

  She reached the staircase, and slowly tip-toed up it. She could hear muffled voices coming from the upstairs floor.

  One of the steps creaked as she stepped over it, but it drew no attention.

  As she reached the top of the stairs, she watched as one of the child savages banged his fists against the door. He was growling like a rabid dog.

  Naomi stood at the end of the landing, unsure of what to do.

  The voices coming from behind the door were grumbling still. Then, one of the voices broke into a scream.

  A silenced gunshot followed, as a bullet ripped through the door, and penetrated the child’s chest, sending him flying against the opposite door.

  Now, Naomi’s emotions took control of her face, as her eyes widened, and she gasped. She broke out of her ‘savage’ character, and quickly ran to the end of the hallway, cradling the child in her arms.

  “It’s ok, it’s ok! I’ve got you!” Naomi held him, looking down into his terrified eyes. He was trying to speak, but his mouth was foaming up. “No, no! Please! Oh god, no!” She began to cry, as the little boy died in her arms…

  Another savage came stumbling up the staircase. He stood at the end of the landing where Naomi was, and watched her cradling the boy, with tears in her eyes.

  “Tear?” He asked h
er, with dirty gritted teeth, as he raised his spear towards her; clearly, there was no room for emotion in this cold and reckless group.

  The savage edged closer to her, his spear level with Naomi’s throat. She didn’t even try to resist, and instead sat there, holding the boy’s corpse, ready to die right alongside him.

  Then, the door flew open – Worm stood there, gripping the knife on his side.

  The savage’s head quickly darted over to him. But, before he could swipe Worm with the spear, a bullet ripped through the man’s head, as he was sent tumbling back down the stairs.

  Worm turned around, and saw Kieran aiming towards the stairs down his sight, nodding at him in gratitude.

  “Worm?” Naomi spoke softly, looking up at her old friend.

  “Oh my god…” Worm was speechless, “It really is you.” Now, he knew for a fact that he wasn’t seeing ghosts.

  Traditionally, two reunited friends would embrace each other. But Naomi didn’t care about reunions, she cut straight to the chase.

  “Did you find Polaris?” She asked the big question hanging over her mind.

  Worm took a moment to prepare his answer. “No.” He lied to her, feeling guilty about the truth of leaving him to seemingly starve to death.

  “You two know each other?” Kieran asked.

  “She was part of my group… A long time ago.” Worm answered, still in shock that she had made it this far. “You stayed local then.” He assumed, seeing as the town they were currently in was not far from all the places that the group had fought away the Infected in.

  “Everyone else is gone.” Naomi confirmed. “They either died or left.”

  Worm nodded in acknowledgment. “Same here. Bram told me about Lorenzo… And then Bram met the same fate; he’s gone too.”

  But Naomi didn’t care all too much for the rest of the group. “No Polaris, though?” She asked again.

  “No, no Polaris.”

  “Look,” Kieran intervened, “Catch-ups are great and all, but that scream was loud… Others will be coming. How many of you are there?”