by Phil Maxey
Packing everything away, he pulled the backpack on and walked back outside. Taking a look at the sun, he started walking across the desert in an eastwardly direction.
As he walked in the gravely sand his mind rolled over the facts and he calculated a ninety percent possibility that there had been a riot followed by a mass breakout. The facility was so remote that the guards had all been killed and the authorities had not had a chance to get reinforcements to it in time. Either way he wasn’t waiting around for them to show up. He wasn’t going to die in that prison. But what was thing I saw? It was a question for now he wasn’t going to try to answer, all that mattered was that he was free for the first time in twenty years.
After an hour he stopped and looked around him. He had balanced the backpack on his head to give him some cover, but he still needed frequent drinks and wasn’t sure if he had enough to make it across the desert. He bent down and let some sand slide through his fingers and smiled, just as he stood back up, a huge shadow passed over him. Instinctually he ducked, but then looked upwards. At first all he saw was a large silhouette, and he thought it was a large bird of prey, but then he quickly realized this ‘bird’ must have a wingspan of over thirty feet. He squinted his eyes against the sun, and saw things which he could not understand. This creature had almost human like arms and legs, but with extruding claws. As it flew away from him high above, he stood staring not quite believing what he was seeing. His mind kept wanting him to accept that it was just a bird, and that all the years in solitary had screwed him up. That must be it he thought.
He took another drink and continued walking. After two hours the town of Baldo appeared on the horizon, buildings and metallic things glinting in the sun. He had always been a fit man, but this walk across the desert was pushing him to his limits. His walk had slowed to a stagger, and the final thirty minutes to the town felt like an extra hour. Finally he made it to a wooden fence, which mostly ran along the outside of a small single story house. Mostly because part of it was smashed and splinted. Horses must have gotten loose.
Walking through the gap he approached the back of the small house. It was this point that he realized how quiet it was. He hadn’t noticed in the desert, because the wind was constantly in his ears, but now he was in a town, even a small town such as Baldo, the lack of any noise was palpable. Walking up to the back deck of the house, he passed by a window and his reflection startled him. They were not allowed mirrors in the prison, and the only view he ever had of himself was the occasional blurred reflection from something glossy. He knew he was seventy-two years old, he had felt the years eat into him, but this was the first time it had been confirmed, until this moment he could pretend he hadn’t aged. Taking a deep breath he stepped onto the deck, and looked at the open doors into the living room. There was no one there, and it was a mess. He knew he had to get out of the orange jumpsuit he was in, but entering someone’s home and stealing clothes was too much of a risk, so he backed off and walked around the side of the house to the front yard. There was something about the street in front of the house that bugged him, a kind of stillness like time had frozen. No cars passed, not even the distant sound of cars could be heard. And more than that there were some vehicles that were parked in the middle of the street with their doors open.
Elijah’s cold logical mind was having trouble grappling with the situation presented to him. Could the inmates had made it to this town and killed everyone? Surely there weren’t enough inmates to do that? He took another sip of his water realizing that was going to be his last, as the bottle was empty. Running forward he kept low and close to the bushes in the gardens lining the street. The noon sun was dispersing any frost that remained on the ground, as he walked down the deserted road, eventually finding himself standing at a main junction. A car sat alone, its driver’s door open. He walked around the front and was immediately aware of the dark brown stain on the seats and the ground just outside. Also laying on the ground was a computer laptop, its screen equally covered in a dark substance. He picked the computer up, not being sure what it was and examined the bloodstain. It had obviously been there for a long time, this was not something that had just happened. Throwing the laptop onto the driver’s seat, he looked around. No people, no sounds, nothing, this town was dead but he had no idea why. The creatures. Images of the things he had seen flickered into his mind but he quickly pushed them away.
A few hundred yards along the road an old motel sign caught his eye and he moved as quickly as he could along the sidewalk towards it. Crossing the road he walked into the forecourt and looked at the row of closed doors. The first few were locked, but the last wasn’t and he pushed it open. Everything seemed normal apart from the pile of food on the bed. He was just about to move into the room when a voice came from behind.
“Well looky here, looks like I got myself a bona fide convict. Don’t turn around.”
“Look, you can keep your food, I’ll be on my way.” Elijah went to turn.
“Hey! I said don’t turn around, and here’s me thinking my days of being a sheriff were over.”
“I’m just an old man looking for some food, I’m going to turn around slowly.” Elijah turned his head first, then his shoulders. Standing outside the door pointing a gun at him was a middle-aged man dressed in a policeman’s uniform. His shirt was covered in sweat, and his nametag was hanging off.
“And I think I’ve caught you trying to steal my food, so I’m just going to act as judge too.”
As the realization dawned on Elijah that this man was going to shoot him, a large shadow appeared behind the man, although he was unaware. A light gust of wind disturbed the cop’s hair, which he pushed back across his forehead, when suddenly a scene from a nightmare descended and landed in the forecourt. Before the cop had the chance to turn around, Elijah darted forward slamming the door closed. The next sound was a loud screech followed by the cop shouting to be let in, and then the impact of something heavy repeatedly hitting the door. The sound of wind rushing then continued for a few seconds then was gone.
Elijah sat with his back up against the door, breathing heavily. His thoughts jumbled and rushed, something he wasn’t accustomed to. After a few minutes he got onto his knees and shuffled across the carpet to the window, he then lifted himself up to see into the forecourt. There was nothing there, although he could just about see the cop’s shoes near the door. He stood, and moved the curtain back just a touch to see more. The cop was lying, but not moving. Quickly Elijah opened the door, grabbed the cops shoulders and heaved him inside, dropping him just in front of the bed, closing the door quickly behind. Two large gashes were across the cop’s back, his shirt torn to shreds. He felt for his pulse but couldn’t find any.
Tipping the body slightly, he felt underneath looking for anything in the cop’s top pockets, when his fingers touched the metal nametag. Pulling it from the man’s shirt, he held it up. Elijah rubbed away the blood smears, revealing the name “Jacob”.
The End.
BOOK THREE
CHAPTER ONE
Mary watched the dust fall from the rafters. Most of the population of the Portland camp was hiding underground, and she felt like they were all in the basement with her. A young child coughed, trying to breathe in the thick pungent air. This was the second night she had been down here, doing her best act as parent to children and nurse to others. Colonel Tinley had ordered everyone he deemed not useful into the makeshift shelters of the town, which was located at the southeastern corner of the camp.
Irene felt along the wall and sat on the stained sofa pillow next to Mary. It would usually be Mary’s instinct to help guide a blind person if she saw them walking in an unsure manner, but she knew better to try that with Irene.
“Chloe’s cough is playing up again. I’ve told her to keep a cloth over her mouth when she’s down here, but she never listens.”
The young girl looked up when hearing her name, and Irene pointed to her mouth. She then obliged by pulling a small
cloth out of her pocket and placing it over her mouth and nose.
Mary looked around the space that her, Irene and about ten others were inside of. It mirrored the size of the single story home above it, being roughly thirty-feet square and was once used by someone who was quite the DIY enthusiast. Tools lined walls and worktops, and four wooden pillars stood at fifteen-foot intervals. Sleeping beds, pillows and blankets smothered the floor for most of the young to lie on. They had also found some tinsel to put up to give the kids at least a sense of Christmas. She then looked at Irene. She had told Mary that she was in her thirties but she always seemed so much older.
“I know you’re looking at me.”
Mary giggled. “How do you do that?”
“You just get a knack for it, usually when those around you go dead quiet, they are looking at you. I can also hear your heartbeat.”
“Now I know you’re joking!”
Irene smiled.
The music of destruction had lulled for an hour and most of the children were asleep or about to be, when it started up again. A knock came on the old wooden door above their heads, which then opened.
“Ma’am, you have to move, this area has been compromised,” with the young soldier’s words came the sound of war. The clatter of automatic fire combined with roars and screams interspersed with small explosions.
Mary leaped to her feet, and started walking from child to child. “Come on, everyone up, we need to move again.”
A blonde girl around the age of seven looked up at her and started crying. Mary kneeled down. “Jess, no need to be so worried, hold on to your doll, it will protect you from the mean animals.” The girl squeezed the doll tight to her chest and got to her feet.
“When will Santa come?”
Mary wasn’t sure how to reply. “Soon,” she then approached a young teenage girl, with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail, and leaned in so to be able to speak quietly. “Addison, keep an eye on Jess, we can’t afford her to run off again.”
Addison nodded. Mary then made sure every child was holding hands with the one behind them, and led them to the bottom of the stairs.
“When you’re outside everyone stay together, and hold on to the closest person next to you.”
Irene flicked her wrist and a small baton transformed into a sturdy walking stick, which was held to her hand by a small loop.
Mary clambered up the stairs, her backpack bouncing on her back and came out into a dark hallway. In the gloom two soldiers stood, their anxious faces lit with flashlights.
“Ma’am, please we need to move quickly, E.L.F’s will be here soon.”
Mary beckoned the first of the children up the stairs, then turned back to the first soldier. “Where are you taking us?”
“We’re moving everyone to the factory.”
The hallway quickly filled up and Irene was the last to appear. One of the soldiers went to help her but quickly retreated when her stick waved him away.
The sound of sniffling, and subdued crying, mixed with the distant sound of war, when the smaller of the two soldiers radio burst to life. “Private, what’s your status on the kids? Over.”
“Got them, we are just about…”
The soldier’s words were interrupted by a loud crash from behind the house. Everyone including the kids froze. The soldier with the radio motioned to the other to check out the disturbance, and then turned to Mary.
“Follow me, quickly, everyone climb into the back of the truck, outside,” he then moved swiftly out of the front door, his rifle darting left and right, and beckoned everyone towards him. Tiny steps clattered over the wooden floors, and out onto the front yard, following Mary and Irene. They then ran over the frosted drive to the back of a large white, former moving truck. Mary lifted the first kid up into it when automatic fire broke out behind the house filling the night air with noise.
“Quickly, now! Get them in the truck!” shouted the soldier near the entrance, who then ran back inside. More gunfire echoed around the abandoned homes, and then a scream. Mary glanced at the house and then frantically picked the other children up, pushing them into the truck as quickly as she could.
“Irene, climb in. I’ll be right with you.”
“I think I’ll wait here with you.”
They both looked back at the house, which was enveloped in darkness. Mary reached into her backpack and pulled out a good-sized flashlight, she then switched it on and pointed it towards the house. No movement or sound came from the building, which looked at her with cold innocence. Mary moved forward onto the path, and shone the light into the hallway, it was empty. She looked back at the truck, sitting motionless and at Irene, whose head was twitching left and right listening to the night. Where are they? She thought looking into the hallway again, she then sighed. I need the keys.
She ran to the back of the truck, and leaned into the storage space. Addison had already turned on her own flashlight.
“Addison, we need to pull this shutter down, to keep you all safe, we will be leaving very soon.” The young girl nodded, and Mary jumped up grabbing the latch then pulled the shutter down, closing it as quietly as she could. “Irene, I need you to get in the passenger’s seat, I’m going to get the keys.”
Irene went to say something but Mary had already turned and headed back to the house. Shining the light into the hallway again she entered and listened best she could. Still only silence came back to her. Her legs felt heavy as she wandered further down the hallway, passing the basement entrance and into the kitchen.
Cake mixture for a partially made Christmas cake sat on the worktop. It was Christmas eve, and only a few hours earlier Mary, Irene and some of the children were standing in the kitchen getting sugar and dried fruit everywhere, when the sirens broke out and everyone had to be quickly shuffled into the basement.
A cool breeze crossed Mary’s face as she stood amongst the shadows of the kitchen and sunroom. Beyond their large windows was only a rich darkness. The door to the backyard was open and swaying slightly. Keeping her flashlight pointing downwards, she moved into the sunroom and then up to the open door to the yard. It was then she heard the noise. A slow drooling sound, like something was drinking from a straw. She went to call out into the black in the yard in the hope that a human voice would come back, but as she stepped across the threshold into the night, the smell of death hit her. She also trod on something and stumbled backwards against the doorframe. Immediately she pushed the flashlight in the direction of her obstruction and saw the torn body of one of the soldiers. The noise that she still hadn’t got used too, paused and then continued. It seemed to be coming from the back of the yard, but she wasn’t about to point the light in that direction to see what was causing it, unless she had too.
She looked down at the soldier. His blood soaked radio was still with him. Kneeling, she grabbed the radio, and then quickly searched his clothes. A set of keys came from his top pocket. Lucky.
Standing, she turned and carefully retraced her steps back into the kitchen. Once she was in the hall, she ran back to the truck. The driver’s door was already open.
She jumped up into the seat and slid the keys into the ignition.
Irene looked straight ahead. “I take it the soldiers are not joining us.”
Mary fired up the truck’s engine, and pulled the door closed, she then pulled off, driving down the darkened road.
CHAPTER TWO
The sound of far off explosions woke Zach. His eyes flickered open into darkness. The left one quicker than the right, but at least the right was now opening. He reached over the side of the flimsy metal frame of the bed, and pulled his backpack up. Pulling out his radio, he clicked it on to see what the time was. 7 am. An hour before sunrise. He looked out into the dark around him, but couldn’t make much out and returned to staring at the underside of Abbey’s bunk above him. It’s him. The tiny voice which he had managed to suppress on seeing Tinley was getting louder. He had to face the reality of the situation. The ma
n that he suspected of killing his family was in charge of this camp, and will be in charge of where he gets sent next. With all the crazy things that he had learned over the past few weeks, that struck him as the craziest. Fate. They had fought hard to make it across the country for these people, and now what chance did he have to help them? Did Tinley know that Zach knew who he was? This was something Zach wasn’t sure of. Either way, he needed to watch his back and those he cared for. He also needed to get a message to Trow, but that might be out of his hands.
He wasn’t going back to sleep, so he sat up, put his boots on and picked up his radio. He then used the neon orange glow from it to light a path between the beds to the door, and then outside into the hallway which was lit by one dim dust covered light.
He heard voices he recognized and walked to the lobby where he found Fiona and Cal, sitting on two plain chairs.
“I hope you both got at least some sleep,” he said, placing a small plastic cup up to the water dispenser and turning the tap.
“Some,” said Fiona. Cal continued looking at the smooth paneling on the floor.
Zach gave him a disconcerted look then sat down next to Fiona. Flashes and orange streams broke the blackness of the horizon outside the lobby entrance.
“What’s your take on the guy in charge?” said Fiona.
Zach took a sip on his water. “Bass said he held the camp together.”
“Did he say anything about what the breakout plan is?”
“Only that, he’s in charge of it.”
Cal lifted his head a bit. “I thought Trow put you in charge?”
“That’s what she told me, guess Tinley has other ideas. I got a briefing at zero eight hundred hours.”
“Want us along?”
Zach was going to reply when a truck pulled up outside the lobby with a judder. A woman in her late twenties with medium length brown hair, jumped out, running around the back, then lifted the shutter up. She then started to help children onto the ground. Zach, Cal and Fiona stood up, left the lobby and walked to the back of the truck.
