The End of Everything | Book 9 | The End of Everything

by Artinian, Christopher

  He was about to march back over to Tommy whose disturbed song was still in full flow when he stopped suddenly. “Where are the others?” he demanded.

  Carlow marched forward to join him. “What others, Josh? This was everybody. We checked all the tents.”

  Josh aimed the rifle back towards Emmy. “Wren, Robyn, the kraut. Where are they? I don’t believe for a second that Chuck got out of that village and they didn’t.”

  Emmy brought her hand down from her bleeding lip. “How the hell should I know? I thought they were all asleep.”

  Josh’s eyes narrowed. “What were you doing with the hammer and crowbar earlier?”

  Emmy had spent her life acting. If there was ever a time she needed to convince her audience, it was now. “Chuck and I were having a drink before bed. We thought we heard something, so we grabbed the nearest things to hand and went to check it out.”

  Josh continued to stare at her, peering into her eyes, looking for any sign that she might be telling an untruth. “So it’s just a coincidence that they’re not here now?”

  “Look,” Chuck said, taking half a step forward before Josh swivelled the rifle around to stop him.

  “That’s far enough.”

  Chuck raised his hands again, placatingly. “Wren was devastated. She trusted you, and then she found out that everything she’d told you had been another nail in her grandad’s coffin. I’m not surprised she just got up and left. They probably wanted to get as far away from this place as possible. Wouldn’t you?”

  Josh’s eye twitched slightly. It was guilt. He knew it was guilt, but he buried it down deep inside. He couldn’t show any weakness, not in front of the captives, not in front of the other men. “Too bad. I wanted to thank her personally,” he said with a cruel grin, causing the rest of his men to laugh again.

  That feeling came over Chuck once more. He wanted to place his giant hands on either side of Josh’s head then squeeze and carry on squeezing until his eyes popped.

  Suddenly Tommy’s anguished nasal scream ended. “Josh is a liar. He lies. Josh is a liar, and he made Wren cry.”

  The rest of the unit laughed out loud, but not Josh. His eye twitched again. Shit! I hope no one saw. He walked back to Ruby, aiming the rifle at her before turning it towards her brother once again. “I told you to shut him up.”

  “Josh is a liar. He said he came from Golspie. He didn’t come from Golspie. Josh is a liar.” Tommy’s head rocked back and forth. His eyes glinted in the fire while his fingers continued to dance in the air. “He didn’t come from Golspie.”

  “What the hell does it matter? He’d only get put up against a wall back at camp; I may as well do it here.” He brought the rifle up to Tommy’s head.

  “Nooo!” Ruby screamed, lunging for Josh and knocking him off balance.

  Two of the soldiers rushed forward and grabbed her, pulling her away from her brother. The tension around the entire camp was palpable as Ruby continued to cry and scream in protest while Tommy’s tics became more and more violent. “Josh is a liar, and he made Wren cry. He made Wren cry because he’s a liar.”

  “Shut up! Shut Up! SHUT UP!” Josh screamed, his voice breaking a little.

  “He made Wren cry. He made Wren cry.”

  Josh flashed a look around towards Ruby. Pure fury painted his face. “Say goodbye to your brother,” he said before turning back to Tommy and placing his finger on the trigger.

  “He made Wren cry. He made Wren cry.” Tommy’s fingers suddenly stopped tapping. His head stopped moving, and his eyes stopped roaming. Despite what people thought, he understood everything that was going on around him. He always had. In actual fact, he understood things better than most people, but in that moment … in that final moment where a gun was pointing straight at him, where he was one trigger squeeze away from death, he had something that he had never had in his life before. He had clarity. His eyes stared straight at Josh. “You made Wren cry.”

  It was time for Josh’s face to contort now. His mouth formed an animalistic snarl, and he screamed as his finger began to squeeze the trigger.

  “NOOO!” Ruby, Emmy and some of the others cried out as the crack of the rifle echoed through the forest. Ruby closed her already tear-filled eyes. She did not care about the rough hands that held her arms. She did not care about what would happen to her; she only cared about her sweet little brother. Her little brother who for all his problems, all his difficulties did not have a bad bone in him, and as she heard the thud as his body collapsed to the ground, all she wanted was for somebody to do the same to her. The tears that ran from her eyes burnt painful streaks down her cheeks.

  Even when she felt the grasping fingers release her, she did not move; she did not open her eyes. She never wanted to open her eyes again. She did not want to see what had happened to her little brother. She did not want to see him lying there, bleeding from his forehead. She wanted to remember him as the sweet boy he had always been. Her brother. Her Tommy.

  “He made Wren cry.”

  Ruby’s eyes shot open. There in front of her was Tommy. His tics were back once more, but he was standing, breathing, speaking. She looked down to see Josh on the ground. An arrow was protruding from his neck, and his mouth opened and closed like a floundering fish.

  Another figure fell somewhere to her left, then another. Frantic rifle fire began, and she was sure it was the end. She felt convinced they were being executed like the Nazis used to line up and murder the Jews. When no one around her fell, she looked beyond the tents, beyond the top of the barbed wire and watched as the bullets chopped into the trees.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Three arrows were more than Robyn thought she would be able to fire before the soldiers responded. She jumped down from the thick branch she had straddled just as the first rounds began to fly through the forest. They’re firing blind, and they’re firing high, but it doesn’t mean they might not get lucky.

  She kept low and ran back to the growth of bushes to the east where she and Wren had originally hidden. Her heart sank a little when she didn’t see her sister waiting there for her. She drew another arrow then really started to panic as two silhouettes ran towards her. She was about to release the bowstring when she recognised the figures had rucksacks on their backs, and one of them was carrying a sharp pointed stick in one hand that glinted a little in the moonlight as fresh blood dripped from it.

  “Look who I found,” Wren said as she hunkered back down beside her sister.

  “Nice shooting, dummkopf,” Mila said as she joined them.

  “You get the guard on the gate?” Robyn asked.

  “Yep,” Wren replied.

  “So that’s four down, six to go.”

  “I was hiding in a tree. When I saw Josh drop, I ran around to the entrance and spotted Wren,” Mila said.

  “Josh? You killed him?” Wren said.

  “I had no choice. He—”

  “No, I’m glad; I just wish I’d have been there to see it.”

  The gunfire continued for a few more seconds before stopping. “We should get in a line of sight of the entrance,” Robyn said. “Remember, no stupid moves. Hand-to-hand is a last resort.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Carlow was still in shock. He had fired a few rounds into the trees, but he knew it was useless. None of them had a visual on a target. The arrows had clearly been on a downward trajectory, and whoever had fired them had been on a branch or something, but shooting blindly showed bad judgement and was a waste of ammunition.

  Need to get this shit show back on track right now. He looked at the second and third men who had fallen, but his eyes lingered on Josh. He had hoped for great things for him, but now that was all over. He had lost friends in battles before but never in a situation that should have been such a pushover. Olsen would be furious. Can’t think about anything other than the job at hand.

  “Alright. You and you, stay here and cover them. Anybody so much as moves and you put a bullet in them. We are not messing
around anymore.”

  “Yes, sir,” both soldiers said in unison before raising their rifles towards the prisoners.

  “You three, come with me. Keep frosty, stay alert, and identify your targets before firing.” He led them back through the tents to the entrance.

  “Oh shit!” one of the men cried out as he shone his torch down at the guardsman by the gate. There was a dark red patch on his back, and one of the other soldiers rolled him over to see there was a corresponding one on the front. “Who the hell are these people?”

  “Keep it together, Hatfield.”

  “I say we get out of here. Come back when we can see what the hell we’re doing. They could be watching us right now for Christ’s sake.”

  “I said keep it together. I’m making the decisions and giving the orders around here. We do this my way.”

  “I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”

  “I won’t tell you again. Now shut up!”

  Carlow did not give anything away in his actions or his tone, but he was concerned too. He really didn’t like the idea of hunting an unknown enemy in the dark, but Olsen would already be fuming that four men were lost. If he went back without the perpetrators or at least their heads, he would be on the chopping block too. He placed his fingers on the top bolt and was about to slide it across when he noticed blood on the barbed wire. Whoever had killed the guardsman had done it from the other side of the fence. They’d run him through then disappeared back into the forest. He felt his heart beginning to beat faster in his chest as he peered out into the darkness. Hatfield’s right. They could be watching us right now.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Chuck looked from guard to guard. Both of them had fear in their eyes. Bullies always started to panic when the tables were turned; he’d seen it a thousand times before. Tommy was talking in quieter tones now as Ruby cradled him, but the guards did not notice and did not care. Instead, their eyes kept flicking from the prisoners to the dark forest beyond, searching the blackness for the deadly assassin who had killed three of their comrades right in front of their eyes.

  “Courageous men your friends are, heading out into the forest on a night. We make sure that gate gets shut at sundown. You never know what’s out there,” Emmy said as she climbed back to her feet.

  “Keep your mouth shut,” the older of the two soldiers said.

  “I’m just saying they’re made of braver stuff than me, that’s all.”

  “I said shut it.”

  “The second night we were here, one of our people decided to take a late evening stroll. We went out looking for him the next morning, and all we found was his bloody clothes and a few bones.”

  “You’re really starting to piss me off, lady,” the soldier said, glaring at her then throwing another skittish look towards his friend.

  “What do you think it was?” the other soldier asked.

  “Don’t you start, Palmer,” the first guard said.

  Emmy looked at the man who’d asked her the question. “We met somebody from Edinburgh a few months back. They told us that one of the keepers had set all the wild animals free at the zoo.”

  “Edinburgh’s like a hundred and fifty miles from here or something, isn’t it?” Palmer asked his friend.

  “I told you to keep it buttoned and just do your job, Palmer. And you,” the first soldier said, pointing his rifle towards Emmy once more, “that’s enough.”

  Emmy looked at Palmer once again. “Wolves can travel over thirty miles in a day. Wouldn’t take them long to get here, would it?”

  Rage flashed on the first soldier’s face, and he shifted his aim from Emmy to Larry. “One more word and the old man gets it.”

  Emmy’s shoulders sagged. She was happy to risk her own well-being but no one else's. “Do you think that’s true, Kipper? Do you think there could be wolves?”

  “It doesn’t bloody matter if there are juggling polar bears out there. All we need to worry about right now is the person who’s taken out three of our people. Now shut your mouth and concentrate on the job at—”

  A deafening scream cut through the night towards them. It was so loud against the otherwise quiet backdrop of the midnight forest that they both looked behind them at the same time, fearing that it was some crazed banshee.

  Chuck dived on top of the one they called Kipper, parrying the rifle to one side. They both toppled to the ground but not before the falling soldier panic pressed the trigger of his SA 80. A rumbling crack reverberated around the camp, and a second later, Palmer was down, holding his side as blood spurted through his fingers.

  Kipper’s eyes widened. More surprising than being tackled was the fact that his errant shot had brought down his friend. Even after Chuck’s first punch smashed against the side of his head making it bounce off the firm soil, he could not focus on his own plight, he could only watch on as the blood gushed from the side of Palmer’s stomach. In the glow of the fire, it looked like black oil. What have I done?

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Hatfield’s scream froze the very air around them. Carlow and the others had never heard a sound like it. The shot from behind sent another wave of panic through them, and despite Carlow’s orders, the other three men all began to fire indiscriminately into the forest. Carlow shone his torch towards Hatfield as he lay on the ground. His agonised cries did not abate, and as the torch beam moved down to the young man’s crotch, it was obvious why.

  “Oh dear God,” Carlow said, wincing a little as he contemplated the agony involved. He brought his torch back up towards the bushes and trees around them as his men continued to lace the woods with bullets. One by one, the magazines ran dry, and the forest fell silent but for Hatfield’s screams and the sound of the metallic clicks as the empty mags were jettisoned to be replaced by fresh ones.

  Another arrow flew through the darkness, and a split second later, a wet thump sounded followed by a thud as the soldier next to Carlow fell to the earth.

  “We need to get out of here. They’re picking us off one by—Aaaggghh!”

  Carlow shone the torch on the last of his men, whose rifle dropped to the ground with a clatter. The soldier was desperately trying to reach over his shoulder as if there was some uncontrollable itch between his blades. He staggered and slowly turned around. Carlow stepped back. Confusion reigned on his face as he looked at something resembling a rolling pin with nails through it sticking out of his comrade’s back. The soldier let out a final pained whimper that was barely audible over Hatfield’s never-ending cries of agony. Carlow watched as he fell. Two more torches lay on the ground at his feet illuminating the gory scene, but he could do nothing other than stand there gawping in disbelief. He glanced down at Hatfield as tears ran down the younger man’s face; then he looked in the direction the homemade mace had come from and finally turned one hundred and eighty degrees towards the archer. He heard another whistle, he saw something briefly catch the light, but before he could feel it entering his body, an eardrum-bursting bang made the air around him vibrate. He felt something warm and wet against the side of his stomach, and he looked down to Hatfield whose face was now covered in blood … Carlow’s blood.

  Carlow turned towards the gate to see the imposing figure of Chuck standing there with his rifle raised. Suddenly his pain receptors kicked in, and he collapsed to his knees. He looked down at his stomach to see an arrow protruding from the centre of his belly. Who are these people? He could feel the wet patches expanding rapidly against his skin as the pain soared to new heights within him; then everything started to go black, blacker than the night. He could just make out Hatfield’s face, but he could not hear his anguished screams any longer. Finally, he collapsed forward. He felt his nose snap, but then he felt nothing at all.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Robyn and Wren stayed put, waiting to see if there were any more surprises in store. When Chuck raised his rifle to finish off the young man at his feet, it was Wren who broke cover.

  “Chuck! No!” she shouted,
waving her arms as she ran out from behind the bushes.

  A broad smile broke out onto his face, his white teeth barely visible on the fringe of the arcing torchlight. “Hello, sunshine. You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said as Wren approached him.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. Did anybody get hurt in there?”

  “Emmy got banged up a bit, but nothing serious. I’d say this is definitely one for the good guys.”

  “You’ve got to help me,” Hatfield cried out, grabbing Chuck’s leg like a pleading child.

  Chuck shook him loose and was about to say something, but Wren beat him to it. “Listen, if you tell us what we want to know, we’ll help you. Do you understand me?”

  “Please. Please,” he cried again.

  “Chuck, can you get him into camp? I’ll be in in a minute.”

  “Can do,” Chuck said, reaching down and grabbing Hatfield by the collar then dragging him like a sack of coal across the ground. With each movement, Hatfield screamed out again.

  “Why aren’t we finishing him off?” Mila asked as she joined Wren. They both turned to watch Robyn as she approached.

  “Because,” Robyn said, plucking the arrows from her victims.

  “Because why?”

  “Because we’re going to get information out of him.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “These people obviously have no intention of leaving us alone, and you know better than anybody what happens to those they capture. Do you really want to end your days as a zeef?” Wren asked.

  Mila placed her second homemade mace under her arm and bent down to pluck the other from her victim’s back. “No. No, I don’t.”

  “Well, if nothing else, we can cause these bastards a pain in the arse they won’t believe, and it starts with gathering information.”

  “Nein,” Mila said, gesturing around her. “It has already started.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Hatfield’s screams had quietened a little as Wren, Robyn and Mila re-entered the circle around the fire. The bodies of the other soldiers had been dragged to the side, and Emmy had broken out her emergency bottle of whisky to help ease the wounded soldier’s pain.