From Despair to Where

by Oliver Smith

  They drove on concentrating on the task at hand, a mile further down the road, around a long and blind corner there were four cars blocking the road. Once again, the car slowed to a crawl, Lucy spoke, “They weren’t here last time.”

  Jack nodded and made a concerned sound. He thought for a moment and said, “We need to get through, we can’t go the other way it’s too populated.”

  Lucy nodded in agreement. They made a plan that Jack would get out of the car and push one out of the road while Lucy drove through the roadblock.

  Neither Jack nor Lucy was stupid and the coincidence of the gang appearing at the house and now this roadblock didn’t escape them. Jack cooked up a contingency plan should anything happen during their forced manoeuvre, he’d described a back road for Lucy to drive to and wait for him should he not be able to get back to the car. She reluctantly agreed, she would wait there and Jack would make it on foot over gardens and fields if anything bad happened.

  Surveying both sides of the roadblock, Jack couldn’t see any of the dead. Those that they had passed before the sweeping bend had followed them for a short while, but became distracted by a horse in a field, safe behind walls and hedges, for the meantime. He couldn’t see any sign of the gang either. Getting out of the car, about 50 feet away from the roadblock, Jack jogged over ducking down to try and stay inconspicuous. He looked at the cars and decided that an old X-reg Ford Focus was probably the easiest to move. The door was unlocked, he bent in and released the hand break. The car was at an angle so would roll straight back which was good as the steering wheel lock clicked into place as Jack grabbed it to start pushing. The car picked up momentum after the initial struggle to get it moving. Aided by a slight decline in the road, the car was pushed aside quickly. It was all going well, Jack smiled and waved Lucy through, play acting like he was a traffic officer. The car crawled through the tight opening and Lucy pulled to a stop to wait for Jack to get back in the car and continue their journey.

  Jack opened the door and with one foot in the car a hand reached over his shoulder and pulled him forcibly around. Stood in front of him was Richie, the gang member who Lucy had beaten twice, who’d also been in the house earlier that day. He didn’t hang around, Richie got hold of Jack with both hands and threw him into the parked cars with effortless strength. Jack flew tumbling backwards into the parked car, taking the wind out of him. Richie pulled out his hunting knife, smiled demonically and said, “I’m going to gut you.”

  Richie may not have been academically gifted, but he had a knack of knowing how people would react in certain situations. It wasn’t Jack he wanted; it was Lucy. He wanted vengeance for his broken nose and ribs, he wasn’t interested in sex, he was in it for the violence. He knew that if he were to try and get Lucy out of the car she could just drive away. By attacking Jack, he could draw Lucy out and get what he craved.

  Like clockwork, Lucy was out of the car with her bat in her hand. Jack could see her and he longed to shout for her to drive on, but cowardice caught his tongue at the sight of the hunting knife in Richie’s hand. Richie’s plan had worked, but he hadn’t counted on Lucy’s remarkable will and drive, she was brave, strong and decisive which made her quicker than he anticipated. Turning to try and catch Lucy off guard he was surprised to see Lucy right behind him swinging her bat, she caught him in the ribs once again making him recoil in pain. The already cracked ribs felt the full impact and he crumpled into a wheezing ball.

  “What’s wrong with you, you complete dick!” She roared, “Did mummy not love you enough? Uncle Gary fiddle with you? Or are you just a fucking psychopath?” Lucy was angry and shouting at the felled man without much comprehension about the words leaving her mouth, she wanted to be cruel to Richie. Finally, she calmed down and looked at Jack and made eyes for the car. He was quick to understand and staggered to his feet. They turned to the car, but it was too late, they were surrounded. The rest of the gang, whose numbers had been depleted in their escape on foot from Manchester to just six, had surrounded them and were brandishing weapons, one had a pistol and Jack’s eyes locked on it. Was this the end?

  “Princess, how nice to see you.” The gang leader named Dale said. Turning to Jack he said, “Fuck off. We want her. You, fuck off.”

  Jack stayed where he was. He didn’t know what to do; he wasn’t cut out for this. The only time he had been faced with someone of Dale’s ilk was when he was a student and had been mugged. He had willingly given over his money and wallet to avoid a beating. The giveaway wasn’t so easy this time round.

  He found the courage to speak, “Just leave us alone, we’re going away and we don’t threaten you at all.”

  Looking furious, Dale said, “Leave now. We want her, she’s the reason we lost five brothers, she’s the reason why we’re out here in the sticks and she’s the reason why our brother Richie is holding his ribs.”

  “I won’t let you take her.” Jack responded in a desperate tone.

  Dale pulled up the pistol he was holding and held it to Jack’s head. He got close to Jack’s face and snarled, “I gave you a choice and you blew it. It’s time to die.”

  “Please, no…Jack just go, leave me, just go.” Lucy spoke up.

  “Speak when you’re spoken too bitch.” Dale hissed not letting the pistol drop. “I’ve had it with this pussy, any last requests?”

  Jack swallowed, he realised that this was it and calmness hit him. He looked at Lucy and thought, I must try, for her. He did a very quick mental countdown from three and made his move.

  BANG!

  Red was the colour. An explosion of red. Blood, skull and brain mixed into mulch. Lucy let out a cry as she looked on at Jack, blood smearing his face. The body of Dale fell to the floor, the back of his head gaping open.

  All eyes moved to the rear of the ugly scene. Stood there with rifle cocked and aimed was a man walking cautiously towards the group. He shouted over, “You with blood on your face, go over to the girl, the rest of you, stay the fuck where you are.”

  One of the gang made a sudden movement and the man fired again, this time missing, but showing his intent. The gang member who moved and two others let instinct take over as they bolted through the trees lining the road, leaving Richie, who was still winded, and the other gang member, Naz, alone to deal with the armed man, Jack and Lucy’s saviour.

  As the man approached, Jack recognised him, it was Bulldog. He got closer and saw Jack and smiled and said, “I thought you’d be dead by now.”

  Lucy looked confused and asked, “Do you know him Jack?”

  Jack nodded and said, “This is the guy I told you about when I went to the shop and began to realise what was happening to the world.”

  “Bulldog, pleased to meet you.” Mick said in Lucy’s direction smiling, looking her up and down.

  Lucy waved and said to Jack quietly, “We need to get moving again, those other three might come back.”

  Still in a state of shock and covered in the contents of Dale’s skull, Jack looked on and waited for her words to sink into some sort of comprehension. They eventually did and he nodded.

  “These two will follow you. Do you have any rope, we could tie them up.” Mick said, still pointing his rifle between Richie and Naz.

  Lucy and Jack looked at each other, it made sense to slow them down and put some distance between these evil men and themselves. Jack turned to Lucy and whispered, “Go to the meeting point, I’ll meet you there, it’ll take me no more than 15 minutes to run there. I’ll be alright with Mick”

  Lucy didn’t want to leave him, but she could see the determination on his face so reluctantly agreed. Jack went to the boot of the car and took out some rope. He held Lucy at arm’s length and said, “I’ll be 30 minutes max. Promise.”

  Looking past his grotesque face paints, Lucy grimaced a smile and mouthed ‘hurry’ and got in the car and drove off.

  Mick walked over to Naz who had been stood there looking for an escape to no avail. Mick quickly brought the butt of his
rifle up and knocked Naz spinning to the ground, unconscious. Walking to Richie and after two attempts with the rifle, knocked Richie out cold too.

  Jack watched on, concerned by Mick’s wilful violence, Mick called out, “That should make it easier to tie them up.”

  They both struggled with the two bodies; Richie was considerably heavier than Naz. They’d decided to lock them up in one of the cars making up the roadblock to give them a fighting chance should any of the dead come stumbling over. Eventually, they secured the two unconscious gang members, Mick thanked Jack and asked, “Which direction you heading?”

  Jack pointed in the direction Lucy had driven, even though he was going to go through gardens and fields to shorten the trip and avoid the dead. He was anxious to get back to Lucy and make sure she was okay.

  “My car’s just around the corner, come on I’ll give you a lift.” Mick said smiling.

  Hesitating, Jack felt exhausted and was in no mood for physical excursion after digging a grave and his run in with the gang, “Thanks Mick, I feel I owe you so much already.”

  “Don’t mention it, good things will come my way. By the way, that woman, well done, she’s lovely.” Mick grinned.

  “Her name’s Lucy.” Jack said with a smile, still caked in blood. He wondered what had happened to the woman and baby that he’d seen Mick with the first time they’d met, but he didn’t make the same mistake he made with Danny, he left the question unasked.

  Walking to a blue pick-up, Mick enquired, “Where am I taking you?”

  “Do you know Ancoats Lane? There’s a layby there that you can drop me at. Do you have any spare water? I need to wash my face.” Jack had walked in front of Mick.

  “JACK!” Mick called.

  Turning to face Mick, the last thing Jack saw was the butt of the rifle as it struck him. Without time to react, the butt connected with Jack’s jaw, knocking him out sprawling to the floor.

  Mick got in his pick-up and headed to Ancoats Lane.

  -

  Mick pulled up to Ancoats Lane to find Lucy waiting. She was puzzled and then distraught as Mick explained that one of the gang members who had escaped came back and shot Jack in the head. He painted Jack as a hero, saying that he pushed Mick out of the way and saved his life. Consoling Lucy, Mick convinced her to come back to meet his girlfriend and baby to rest a while.

  Lucy followed Mick in Jack’s car, she was in a hollow dream, floating aimlessly. The stability she had found through Jack had gone. Lucy was spiralling into a pit of despair; the walls were slick with grease and the light fading.

  Mick’s house was along Ancoats Lane, a small cottage down a narrow track, she could see smoke coming from the chimney which she thought a little odd considering it was a warm spring day. Approaching the house, several outbuildings were scattered around, she could see dead pheasants hanging in one of them.

  Unlocking the door, Mick held it open for Lucy to enter first, saying, “You are a guest at Bulldog’s house.”

  Walking into the dark living room, curtains drawn, Lucy could see a woman kneeling by the fire, she appeared to be cooking some type of meat by the smell. The woman looked round and saw Lucy, the woman’s face didn’t change, she just dropped her head and turned to carry on cooking.

  Mick locked the door behind him and said, “Lucy, this is Jen.” He went off and locked the rifle in a cabinet and took his coat off whilst walking into another room.

  Jen turned to Lucy and looked manic, in a hushed tone she said, “Run!”

  Chapter 20 - Stockholm Syndrome

  Lucy sat for a couple of hours in Mick’s living room in a state of alertness. Jen had terrified her, but since the single word, the woman had remained mute, busying herself with various tasks and seeing to her baby. A baby girl! The sight of the child had raised and then crushed Lucy’s hopes; the joy of a baby and then the realisation of what her life might become, if she survived, in this cruel new world.

  Knowing there was a baby living in the house made Lucy relax, a little. Mick had spoken to her a few times, but the conversations weren’t exactly two way. He had a strange way of talking and referred to himself in third person quite often, he spoke in disjointed statements rarely listening to the other person. Lucy wasn’t in the mood for talking anyway, her mind drifted to Jack and she wallowed in an unhappy stupor.

  It was late afternoon when Bulldog said he had to go out and run some errands. He left with his rifle and locked the door behind him. This action prompted Lucy to pace the house and explore, she found that there was one door out, the locked front door, and the downstairs windows all had bars on them. The bars looked as though they were in place long before the end of the world. She was stuck in the cottage unless she wanted to jump from the upper floor. Returning to the sofa, Lucy sat down heavily and sighed. A nagging thought persisted at the back of her mind: had she willingly become an accomplice to her own kidnapping.

  With the baby sleeping upstairs, Jen came down and sat next to Lucy, she attempted a smile, but it was forced and unnatural, “You need to get out when you can. He. He-” She struggled to continue.

  Lucy leaned forward and placed her hand on Jen’s, “Tell me, please.”

  “He takes what he wants, and I know he wants you; I’ve seen him looking at you.”

  “What do you mean, he takes what he wants?” Lucy knew the answer already.

  “He feels we owe it to him for keeping us safe. He says women are the most precious thing left and he vowed to keep me and my baby girl safe.”

  Lucy put her head in her hands. Her situation seemed bad, but a thought troubled her, Jack. Had Mick killed Jack to get his hands on Lucy? The thought frightened her and she struggled to contain her anger, she grew angrier still when she pictured her baseball bat sat on the passenger seat of the car, parked just a few feet away.

  Turning to Jen, she asked, “How long have you been with him?”

  “I was with him for a couple of months before this all happened. He was sweet, but loved a drink and a fight. We moved in together as I needed a place to stay and he was happy to have me. Even before the dead started walking, he had changed though. He sometimes confiscated my phone and was controlling. Since all that outside stuff happened things have got worse with him. He does and takes what pleases him. I’m trapped here.” Jen was emotionless as her thoughts rambled out of her mouth.

  “Your friend might not be dead.” Jen’s words hung in the air.

  “Jack…what do you mean?” Lucy questioned turning to look seriously at Jen.

  “He’s not all bad. I don’t think he’s a cold-blooded killer. I doubt the gang killed Jack; how would Mick have escaped unscathed? I think Mick thought he could look after you better so took action to make that happen.”

  “Are you saying he’s locked me in here for my own protection? Without my say so. He’s a hero?”

  Lucy paused, feeling her blood boil, “Bollocks, not a killer! I saw him blow a man’s head off.” Lucy was getting frustrated and angrier at Mick and his perverse sense of chivalry and with Jen who seemed on one hand deeply scared, and on the other, besotted with the controlling man.

  “If I were you, I would toe the line, do as he says and build up his trust. He doesn’t usually lock me in, he knows I’d never run. Make him believe you are happy here and you’ll be able to escape.” Jen was an unusual woman, completely devoid of emotion as she spoke, and this made Lucy feel uncomfortable in her presence. She also noticed holes in her story, one minute she was trapped, the next she could leave freely. Something is not quite right about Jen.

  Mick returned a couple of hours later in the evening light. Rain clouds had darkened the spring day and it reflected Lucy’s mood, a pathetic fallacy, a pathetic situation. With Jen’s words still echoing in her mind, Lucy decided to deceive Mick.

  He was bringing in bags of items he’d looted while out on his errands. Whistling a tune while he worked, the man seemed happy. He unpacked tinned goods and from another sack pulled out a machete, an axe
and a couple of hunting knives. Turning to Lucy who had approached him he said, “Not a bad trip, these’ll come in handy.”

  Lucy looked down with worry at the array of barbaric weapons and said, “They are a good find. Look Mick can I ask a favour of you?”

  “Anything pretty lady, Bulldog would walk on water for the fairer sex.” He was almost theatrical in his speech.

  “If it’s okay with you, can I stay here for a week or two? I just need somewhere to get my head around everything that’s happened and to help me grieve for my friend Jack, I know-”

  Not letting her finish, Mick continued his infuriating trait of not listening, and said, “No need to explain darling. Stay as long as you want. Bulldog is standing here because of your friend Jack so I’m indebted to him to keep you safe.”

  “Thank you.” Lucy paced with a burning rage inside her, Mick handed her a bag he’d taken from Jack’s car. It was her belongings.

  Lucy glanced up at Jen, who sat on the sofa, they both exchanged a knowing look.

  Chapter 21 - Awakenings

  The sound of Mick’s car moving slowly through the roadblock woke Richie from his enforced slumber. He opened his eyes and immediately felt the blinding headache from two heavy blows to the jaw. Looking in the rear-view mirror, he saw that he was caked in his own blood. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were tied. Looking over to the passenger side he could see Naz in a similar condition, although he was still unconscious, but breathing.

  Richie tried to loosen the ropes, but they weren’t budging. He reached for the door handle with both arms tied together. Opening the door, he closed his eyes and rolled his weight out of the car. Landing painfully on his broken ribs, Richie let out a quiet curse. Lying on his side he surveyed his surroundings. He found what he was looking for under the car he’d been tied up in. The hunting knife he’d been holding when Lucy hit him had fallen under the car. Her words were still echoing in his aching brain and he longed to squeeze the breath out of the woman.