The Cull

by Enn Kae

  * * *

  The ten o'clock train from London Euston stopped at Brixham train Station at approximately 3pm. It was a rather unburdened train ride. Abe managed to get through the train journey rather painlessly. He managed to board the train with little trouble and the conductor scanned Abe's tickets without any further need for thumbprints, as was required. The conductor's machine was not working properly and, after looking at Abe's rather helpless demeanour, the conductor walked on.

  Abe looked out the window as the train rolled through the hills of southern England. He peeled out a fresh note of money from his bag which he had lovingly saved so that he could afford some lunch on the train. He walked through the serving area and bought himself a little stockpile and returned to his seat to devour his findings. His hunger, once satisfied, was sure to send him to sleep again so he bought two cups of coffee to keep him fresh. He didn't want to sleep but he knew he would. He was fatigued but he didn't like sleeping on trains. He clutched his bag and his head nodded forward. He tilted his head back again and peeled open his eyes as he took in a deep breath. Shortly after, his head nodded forward again and this time it sank by the window and he departed swiftly into a dream: he saw Ophelia at the train station; dressed in a long red coat, her long auburn hair complimented her fair skin and the rouge of her cheeks and lips; a celtic princess awaited him at the platform, wearing a white felt hat and a smile that warmed his whole being.

  It seemed as though Abe didn't wake up from his dream. He was there, finally, in her arms. He hugged her with a grip that elicited tears. He was safe and cushioned in her comfort. He stroked her hair and cried.

  "What's the matter, Abe?" asked Ophelia, her soul hurt at the site of his tears.

  "I'm sorry. I never thought I'd get here. They are tears of happiness," sobbed Abe.

  "Oh Abe... and now I will make sure you will never leave. You're home, baby, you're home."

  .

  The following month closed the events of that October in 2033 and Abe began to consider whether he ought to tell Ophelia exactly what had happened. She often asked why he was occasionally upset but she stopped asking in favour of accepting Abe's reply: that he was just overjoyed to be with her. She accepted his answer; he was a sweet man who adored her and, indeed, he did. Ophelia, in turn, adored Abe. In Abe, she saw herself and they mirrored each other so perfectly.

  In the month following Abe's arrival, they began to work the land together. They prepared the ground for a new crop to be planted and harvested what Ophelia had grown in Abe's absence. Abe restored his health after eating the fruits of the small-holding and whatever was on offer at the local market and whatever they exchanged with their neighbours. Abe offered himself as a handyman in exchange for food and supplies. He helped the neighbours with their plots and in fixing up their houses. After he stopped eating food from the Proco stores, he felt full of life. He was certain that Proco's food had been making him ill and silently killing him.

  His colour was restored and he gained a little weight. The nails on his fingers were no longer broken and his hair grew faster and it appeared slightly thicker. He shared his observations with Ophelia and she agreed with him. They had long talks late into the night, laughing all the while. They talked on every matter that mattered to them and they were able to be silly when the mood suited them. They were together and that was the most important thing to them. Abe had no money but he didn't miss the half-life he once had in London. He occasionally stopped to reflect on that life but he was often too busy with his new life to reflect too deeply upon it.

  He didn't, however, forget the date that he had etched into his memory when he first overheard it in the cleaning-cum-computer room at Battersea Power Station. It was the beginning of December and Abe's memory of that final week in London returned. He told himself that indeed nothing would happen and that perhaps he was mistaken and that it was all a misunderstanding. Nothing was made in the media about the dead men of Priory Court Estate nor could he find any reference to the events on the internet.

  Abe had not heard from Pawel either, aside from the one message that Pawel sent in November, informing them of a visit in the first week of December. It was almost mid-December and Abe's anxiety began to grow over that date - December the 13th. In less that a week's time, Abe would learn whether all that he heard was indeed true or not. In the meantime, he tried to enjoy his time with Ophelia. Ophelia grew to suspect something was wrong as her intuition raised an alarm. Her constant questioning left her bereft of answers after Abe began to shrug her off.

  Abe grew tense, often waking up soaked in sweat in the middle of the night. There was something he needed to tell her. He should tell her; he could trust her, he told himself. It was the eve of the 13th of December and Ophelia sat under a lamp, late evening, in the living room of their modest home. She was sat in a long sweater next to the open wood fire where she worked on her latest piece of clothing; a shirt for Abe. It was to be his Christmas present. Abe sat silently alongside her in the living room, in a daydream of sorts.

  Ophelia looked at him but didn't push him to tell her what was bearing on his mind. He would tell her in time, she told herself. The night was long and Abe lay in bed, gazing up at the ceiling, going back in his mind over and over what had happened, what he had heard, to try and make sense of everything. He got up and made his way to the bathroom. He took down the dressing gown that hung on the door and walked to the living room, throwing it over his shivering body as he walked. It was dreadfully cold at five in the morning. He sat by the computer, switching it on to distract himself from his thoughts. The light hit his face as he surfed the internet, his eyes opened wide, then wider, as he visited various websites.

  Up flashed a window - it was a message from one of the news channels. It read "Breaking News."

  His heart beat a hard pulse as he clicked on the icon. His breath shortened as he clicked to hear a newscast.

  "A bomb has just exploded, wiping out most of London aside from, bizarrely, Battersea Power Station. A man known to the authorities, who goes by the name of Abraham Hicks, otherwise known as Abe, is wanted for questioning. If you know him or have seen him, it is advisable that you contact the authorities. He is considered to be directly linked to this attack. He is a known Re-gen, who has been part of a terrorist cell of Re-gens who live in Walthamstow, East London. The authorities say that they have concrete evidence that this group of Re-gens, headed by this man Abe Hicks, have been plotting this attack. This bomb was nuclear in nature and it was designed to cause maximum casualties. It is currently estimated that about ninety per-cent of London has been wiped off the map. Again, if you know or see this man you must notify the authorities immediately."

  The news anchor continued talking as the images flashed up on Abe's face. He was struck in terror, completely traumatised by what he had just seen and heard. He saw Ophelia's silhouette in the reflection on the screen. Over his shoulder stood Ophelia. He turned around to look at her, his face sunken to the depths of his despair. Ophelia's hand covered her mouth as her brow formed a crease and tears rolled down her cheeks. In that moment, before he had time to console her weeping, he looked at her in anguish and said, in a hallowed tone:

  "Did you see that coming?''

  THE END