After The Turn: Redemption

by Daniels, Melvin

  An oldish man had appeared without them noticing probably in his late fifties, had a grey hair and a tatty old floppy hat, the type that the typical village cricketer used to wear whilst fielding on a hot sunny day. He offered them some food from a tray.

  “Roasted squirrel?” he asked whilst holding the tray out to them.

  Drew and Frances refused but Marcus tucked in. Connor was staring at the fire in silence oblivious to anything.

  “Thank you” Marcus said taking one

  “Your welcome, did you know that….” the old man began to talk, but was interrupted as Omar approached.

  “Thank you, Clifford, but I need to talk to these people” Omar told the old man, who turned around and walk off back the way he came, despondently. “Saved you there that old boy likes a chat”

  With Omar was another man short but carried a bit of weight, not fat pure muscle. Like he did a lot of physical exercise to keep in good shape. He introduced himself.

  “Hi there, Lance Corporal Alex Fletcher, aka Fletch” he shook hands with Drew and Marcus. Connor was staring at the fire in silence oblivious to anything. “Heard you had a run in with the Knights today”

  “That is true” Marcus replied quickly “Not the first time either”

  “Anyway, I got to head off, James will be waiting for me” Fletch pulled a camouflaged rucksack over his camouflaged army jacket. “Nice to have met you”

  Omar walked over to Frances and picked up one of the SA80 assault rifles that lay at her feet.

  “Hey, Fletch” Omar said handing him a gun “Take this and tell Sam. We will get them all back”

  He moved from the bush, as fast as he could, everybody was distracted. By the main guys little speech. He needed a better view, he lay in the grass, no one was looking his way. He could see everything. This was the first time he braved leaving the bush. There were less than he thought. Was this all of them? Two of them are leaving. Where were they going? Should he follow them?

  He wrote a note.

  Need extra pair eyes, need to know where they go to, but can’t leave, gain inside information? I shall get to one of the young boys.

  Then he just watched.

  Drew and Marcus were squashed in the cab of the truck, no way were they sleeping out in the open, with no weapons. And no way were they sleeping next to Steve’s body. Seamus had agreed to allow Connor to stay in the medical tent, under close watch.

  “What do you think?” Drew asked Marcus

  “I think it’s cold in here”

  “I meant about this lot”

  “I think Seamus is a bit of a knob, but in all they seem ok”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, now get some sleep”

  A few hours later Drew was snoring, Marcus was shivering, he could not sleep due to the noises of his friend, the cold and for feeling on edge about the situation, he felt nervous and naked without his weapons. He prayed they got no trouble this night, He watched out the window as out of the dark, a petite figure came tiptoeing over the bridge, carrying a bundle of something he couldn’t quite make out in the low light. He watched as the person trod carefully barefooted across the grass, and onto the stone and towards the cab. Opened the door and spoke quietly to Marcus.

  “I just brought some blankets for you and your friend” Hannah said

  She had removed her plait and her long ginger hair sat over her shoulders and down her back, moving in the wind

  “It’s a cold night, and you haven’t got much to keep you warm” she handed him the blankets.

  “Thank you that’s very thoughtful” Marcus said

  “Goodnight see you tomorrow” Hannah said blushing. She started heading back, looking over her shoulder with a shy smile. “I look forward to it” she said under her breath.

  10

  The three of them were crammed into the front of the pickup, they had left the camp that morning, leaving behind many apprehensive people not knowing if they would return, either by necessity or design, they had retrieved their weapons and picked Connor up from the medical tent. They had eaten breakfast, albeit baked beans straight from the tin.

  Marcus had made sure he bid farewell to Hannah as they dropped by to pick Connor up after his night of observation, even though she insisted that he stayed, so she could observe him longer. Or to keep Marcus hanging around a while? That was anyone’s guess. Either way they packed up and headed out.

  Speeding along the roads that they had once covered, heading back the way they had come, the midmorning sun was quite high in the sky by now, the glare was shining through the windscreen, Drew would slip again into thoughts of his beloved Sarah, like he often did in the passenger seat. Remembering the days before. When life was great, he closed his eyes, trying desperately to remember her face, hear her voice in his mind, imagine the smell of her sweet fragrance. It had been weeks, months maybe since he lost her. He had started getting this feeling that she was getting further and further away from him. That finding her was just out of his reach. Is she dead? What would happen if I found her? What if I found her… and she was dead? These thoughts had been circling his mind lately. Would it be best to stop looking? Would life be better if they stayed with Omar and his group? The guy was a good man? How many of them were there around these days?

  They hit a bump in the road, Drew opened his eyes with a jolt.

  “Did we wake you, boss?” Marcus chuckled as he turned the volume down on the Red Hot Chilli Peppers.

  It was the first time anyone had spoken on the journey; Drew had kept himself to his thoughts and Connor was between them sat bolt upright staring out the window. At nothing.

  “Sorry brother, very rude of me” Drew apologized

  “Don’t be, its fine” Marcus assured him “Me and chuckles here have been having a whale of a time” he said nudging Connor with his elbow “Ain’t that right”

  “What. Huh?” came the delayed response from Connor.

  Marcus slammed the brakes on as they thundered up the road that led to the farm, in front of them stood a man signaling them to stop. Brave man Marcus thought, he hadn’t checked the brakes on this truck in a while. The guy was gesturing profusely as the vehicle was not slowing at the rate it should have been and edging closer to his legs. The brake pads had worn so much the caliper was grinding on to the disc, creating a uncomfortable squealing noise, as Marcus pushed the brake pedal further to the floor. Thankfully the truck finally came to a standstill. The man slammed his hand down hard on the bonnet of the pickup, leaving a small dent in the curved lime green bodywork.

  “What the hell are you doing to my truck” Marcus yelled out the window.

  He was ignored as the man walked around and pulled him out the truck and threw him to the floor and he started kicking him. Marcus lay in the fetal position on the road trying to block the blows. Drew jumped out and ran around to aid his friend. Grabbing the aggressor by his leather jacket and forcing him off Marcus.

  The man spun around and faced Drew and he pulled a gun from his waist band. It was an Austrian made Glock 17. British army issue. The gun was pointed at Drew’s face only a matter of inches away, was this it? Is this how it ends for him? Drew raised his hands in surrender. Marcus struggled to his feet, spitting blood from his mouth he was instructed to stand with Drew. The man took a few steps back and moved his mouth to a radio that had been attached to his jacket.

  “Galahad Four this is Galahad watchman over” the guy spoke into his radio. He waited a while with no response.

  “Galahad Four this Galahad watchman do you receive?” again there was no response.

  Drew whispered under his breath to Marcus.

  “He’s a Knight”

  Marcus grunted in agreement; the call sign Galahad was quite the giveaway.

  The man was getting increasingly frustrated with getting no response from his colleagues.

  “Galahad Four this Galahad watchman do you receive?” again there was no response “For christ sake McCormack! Answer the damn r
adio” the Knight yelled down the radio.

  Marcus made a move towards him. In an instant the Knight gave up trying to raise his colleagues and raised the Glock to Marcus’ face.

  CRACK

  A shot had been fired, and his lifeless body buckled at the knees and fell to the floor, killed instantly, blood formed a pool around him, Drew stood still in shock.

  From the truck Connor held the smoking gun. The windscreen was cracked, a single bullet hole, causing a spider web pattern of broken glass, still in place. Blood run down his own face as tiny fragments of broken glass had cut him. Luckily it had missed his eyes. He had found the Kimber in the passenger’s footwell, Drew had dropped it whilst getting out of the truck in a hurry. He had raised it and pulled the trigger. He had never killed a man before.

  Marcus had forgotten that Connor was there, the quiet kid, slightly weird hadn’t really heard him say anything, seemed scared of everything, and now he owed him his life. If Connor were not there, it could very well have been him lying dead on the floor.

  “What the hell have you done to my truck!” was the only words he could think of.

  Marcus looted the knight, took his radio and his Glock, still with a full magazine. Someone must have heard the gun shot surely. They waited for a few minutes, surprisingly nothing came through the radio, no communication, no situation report, they clearly were not expecting trouble. Maybe they assumed the guy on the floor laying in his own blood was taking out a dead one. Or just a spot of target practice maybe.

  Drew lifted the guys legs whilst Marcus grabbed him from under the shoulders. Between them the slung him into a deep ditch which ran parallel the to the road. Like a piece of rubbish getting tossed into a skip on a worksite. Just in case someone else came by. Everything had changed for them now. They needed to get out of there, it would only be a matter of time until someone came looking for him, not being able to raise him on the radio.

  “I’m going to have a look” Marcus said.

  Drew pleaded to him to stop, it was not safe, they did not really need to go back there, they could find somewhere else to stay, they could go back to the common with Omar.

  “If they are alerted then I’ll come straight back. They don’t know there looking for us yet, and you got the radio you can hear what’s going on”

  Drew did not like the idea, but he agreed anyway, he knew Marcus could take care of himself, Marcus handed him the keys to his beloved truck

  “Just in case”

  Marcus took a route around to the back of the farmhouse; he figured his best way in would be through the horse paddock which led to the back door where he had entered the house previously. He scurried fast down a hidden public footpath further up the road. Which had been designed for ramblers to walk through the countryside and not trespass onto the farmers property. Trees arched over the path creating a tunnel which ran between high banks on each side. He ran as fast as he could down the track, looking for a hole in the hedge in which he could fit through and into the field. He wasn’t worried about the noise right now. He knew they could not see him through the tree line, and they would not be looking this way anyway.

  Finally, he found a hole, he stopped running and started climbing up the bank from the footpath. He grabbed a tree and pulled himself up. He put one leg through the hole, then he froze, he could hear footsteps, someone running down the path after him. He pulled himself back through and stayed low behind the tree. They were getting closer; Marcus slowly slid his knife from his pocket.

  It was Connor, sprinting down the path. holding his Charlton Athletic cap in his hand so it did not fall of his head. A newfound sense of bravery, or recklessness

  “Oi” Marcus spoke, quietly enough to not be heard from anywhere other than the footpath but also loud enough so Connor could hear.

  He heard him. He looked around to see where the noise had come from. He caught site of Marcus but as he did so, he tripped over a tree root that was protruding from the ground, landing face first on the dry hard surface. Marcus smiled to himself, as he helped pull Connor up the bank.

  They were both in the field, crawling on their stomachs through the grass, past the carcass of a horse that lay with its guts strewn all around it, it a had been feasted upon by the ravenous dead, a few of them had been through here, evidence of an attack was clear to see, shotgun cartridges littered the field, and the odd corpse of a fallen dead one with a hole in its head. It was slow going but they crawled further forwards.

  Out towards their left, Marcus could see three other Knights loitering around one of the barns. They were all laughing and joking about, loudly, He could see what they were doing, hanging from a gallows bracket, was the farmer’s wife. Or the reanimated version of her. She was thrashing around trying to attack the Knights, who were taking it in turn to hit her with objects, like a piñata. It was disgusting, they were distracted so much Marcus thought they could have run to the house without being discovered.

  They got to the house, and surreptitiously jumped the fence from the horse paddock, and made their way to the house.

  “Why are you so keen to come here?” Connor asked

  “There was a dog that was here with us, I need to see what happened to him, I got to try”

  Connor understood him, life is life, the dog was innocent in all this, it deserved protection, if possible.

  Marcus told Connor to go check the front of the house, stay low, stay silent. And as Connor snuck off around the corner, Marcus made his way in through the back door, still hanging from its hinges. Inside he found the dog, curled up in a ball on the floor, Marcus moved closer to him he could hear and see flies buzzing around it. Around the gaping wound that had carved the poor animals head in two.

  He snuck down to the basement walking on tip toes, keeping noise to a minimum. The smell of the dead body hit him again, pulling his hoodie over his face he moved forwards searching through all the tools and equipment until he found what he was after.

  He climbed back up the stairs, his face still covered from the smell, and in his other hand he held a pair of twenty-four-inch Magnusson bolt cutters. He got to the top of the stairs and turned back towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye. He saw a man in the kitchen. He wasn’t there a minute ago, he was snorting some powder through a straw, some cocaine equivalent, or genuine cocaine. It made no difference, Marcus saw him, and he had just seen Marcus, wiping his nose of excess residue the guy faced up to Marcus, he was a scrawny guy, many years of various substance abuse had followed this guy round, he was very thin, his cheek bones and his face gave him a skeletal appearance he looked rough, he looked sinister, like a ghoul.

  Marcus clocked that this man too had a radio on him. McCormack? Maybe most likely. The guy came at him slightly disorientated. Swinging wildly like a man swaying into a bar fight. The smell of his breath concurred with this assessment, Scotch for sure no mistaking it, Marcus prepared to throw a punch when.

  The guy fell to the ground, Connor stood over him holding a shovel that he had found leaning up against the wall outside.

  “Thanks kid” Marcus said

  The skinny man was out cold and after Marcus had taken his radio off of him, he dragged him to the hallway and pushed him down the stairs into the basement, hoping that he may have broken his neck on the way down.

  “They got a van outside, no one is about they are all at the barn” Connor reported, “The keys are in it”

  Marcus gave Connor the bolt cutters and he removed the dog from his chain, picked him up and headed for the front door. They looked around, no one was in sight, parked on the driveway was a shiny silver Ford Tourneo custom, they ran too it across the gravel, Connor threw open the sliding doors to the back of the van, chucking in the bolt cutters and the shovel that he still had in his hands, Marcus handed him the dead dog and slid the door shut. He jumped into the driver’s side, fired up the engine and sped off and out of the farm.

  Drew sat in the truck, anxiously waiting for them to come back,
he could not believe how stupid Connor was heading off after Marcus. He was bound to get them killed. Suddenly the radio crackled.

  “Hey there brother, were heading out in a silver van, follow my lead Connor is taking us to the outpost over”

  Drew started the engine as the silver van flew past him, and followed behind, at high speed down the road, towards the outpost. This was it he thought, no turning back now. Once he could see the place then they could plan what happens next.

  The three of them stood on top of a hill, looking down with a clear site of the outpost. It was a whole village that had been transformed into a fortified position with a makeshift wall put up on all the sides. Encircling it. There was loads of people milling around, at each end of the village, the main road was blocked with a pair of huge gates, outside of which were queues of people, with cars, trucks, caravans horse and cart. Scores of people trying to get in, and people inside rushing around ready to accommodate them.

  “What’s going on?” Drew asked Connor

  “Market day” was the reply

  11

  There was a gentle knock at the door, this was one of the good days, a rare time that they were allowed outside the four walls of their rooms, albeit under strict supervision. The only times they could see other people, not just the people they had been selected to spend their lives with. They got to see the other captives of this regime; see how they were getting by with coping with the rigors of their new lives.

  “Hey, Healy, dude” came a voice from outside “Your woman has been selected for market duty today”

  “Ok Davison I will get her ready” was the reply

  The treads of the staircase creaked as the huge figure of Keith Davison struggled down the stairs, out of breath, it was his job to organize the community Rota’s, make sure everyone was where they should be, he had to walk all over the outpost knocking on doors. He was so unfit he was sure to suffer a cardiac arrest at some point.