by Devon Ford
Her two nephews, born two years apart and startlingly different in their looks; one tall and broad with a mess of thick, dark hair whilst the other was a head shorter, blonde and smaller in stature with big eyes which seemed to stare straight into a person’s soul. Both had the undeniable looks of their grandparents but took more of their personalities from their adoptive aunt.
Between them they held the stewardship of the town now, as she had taken a step back many summers before after twenty years of training them as best she could. Both were effective soldiers, but more than that they were leaders; just like their grandparents. Their joint reign was a return to the times when they at Sanctuary were a warrior clan; a force to be reckoned with.
Before she acknowledged them, something in her subconscious made her turn to the distant watch tower where her parents were buried side by side. She often joked they were buried so close to each other that they could carry on their loving bickering into eternity.
She still missed them, and the pain of their passing lessened only a little each day. She knew they were still watching over their home, buried close to their son who had fallen ill and died not long after they had passed.
She liked to believe that they were still keeping everyone down where she was safe as they had always done, at whatever cost.
“You’ll have to be better than that to get the drop on me, boys,” she croaked with a smile to herself.
“Still got it, Auntie Leah,” said the taller one, leaning in to give her a rough kiss on her cheek which still bore the scar from the battle for Sanctuary.
“I’ve forgotten more than you know, sunshine,” she said with a grin, goading them both into a good-natured argument for her amusement.
“Always,” said the shorter one, deftly and diplomatically avoiding the bickering she tried to antagonise as he bent to scratch under the chin of the German shepherd cross who looked up at him expectantly. Producing a scrap of dried meat, he rewarded Ash’s descendant as she knew he would.
“All quiet,” said Jack before the woman cut him off.
“You don’t need to tell me,” she said. “I’m retired.”
Her nephews exchanged a look, which she somehow detected even though she still gazed out over the ramparts.
“And don’t roll your eyes at me,” she said before turning to face them. She knew they didn’t want to report anything to her; they wanted advice on something whist they could still call on her experience.
“What can an old woman do for you?” she enquired with sweet sarcasm.
“Nothing,” said Peter, the shadow of the old compound bow jutting out above his shoulder, “we just wanted to see how you were.”
“I’m fine,” she said, “in fact I was just about to go and visit my granddaughter.”
Jack smiled back at her before saying, “We’ll walk with you, Auntie Leah.”
~
A little over a week later, over a hundred men and women of all ages made the long and arduous journey on foot to the top of the cliff overlooking their beautiful home.
They lowered her shrouded body into the rectangular hole as her daughter knelt in the dirt to reverently lay the battered and ancient gun on her chest. Her body was almost covered by the time everyone had filed past and sprinkled a handful of dirt over her, leaving her nephews little work to do in replacing the remainder of the excavated soil. Her granddaughter was the last to stand over her with her uncles; fourteen years old and strong, with a fierce sense of pride in her heritage, she was the very image of the woman they laid to rest. In reverent flattery of her grandmother, she carried with her an old rifle everywhere she went. The short barrel with its angular foregrip. The dual sight on the top rail. It had belonged, originally, to a man now immortalised in the legend of her home. A man she had never met but felt like she knew nonetheless.
Carefully arranging the stone slab to align with the others, they gently patted down the earth to tuck her in tight, next to Dan.
She was in fine company on that ridge. The vanguard of warriors who fought their whole lives to protect the group, never once giving up or putting their own needs ahead of others. Those responsible for the safety they now enjoyed.
She lay beside her Uncle Neil. Mitch beside him.
The best friend of her childhood, Ash.
She lay beside her younger brother, taken too soon.
She lay behind the woman who had become her mother, and a mother to so many others.
She lay beside the man who started this wild ride she called her life. The man who had brought them all together and had become her father. A man who almost died so many times to keep them safe. A man she loved. A man she admired.
A man she was certain she would see again when they were reunited.
This was Leah’s final resting place. She had survived, she had retained her humanity throughout countless ordeals, she had grown into a society she had led with fairness and tenacity for many years. She had lived with hope in her heart, found sanctuary and above all else had endured when events had so many times conspired to finish her.
That was Leah’s rebellion.
The end of the AFTER IT HAPPENED series
A message from the author
This series has meant so much to me; more than I can even begin to explain. It began as a dream, became an obsession, was filed away and ridiculed as a hobby and in the end, became a life-changing choice.
The journey that Dan et al. have taken me on is deep and meaningful in so many ways which I won’t bore you with, instead I want to thank you – my readers – for bringing this whole thing to life. If you hadn’t have taken a chance on this, if you hadn’t liked it and caused that snowball to roll downhill and gather momentum then it’s highly unlikely that the events after the characters’ lives at the prison would ever have been written, and those characters you have come to know would have been saved from the suffering and torment I put them through.
And they wouldn’t have found peace in their safety to live out their lives. It would’ve just Happened, and there would have been no After.
We all have walls to hide behind in our lives, and stepping outside of your own personal Sanctuary to bring the fight to the enemy takes bravery, in whatever small way it begins. Step outside of your comfort zone, do something selfless, take the hit and recover to fight again. We learn only when we make a mistake.
This is by no means an announcement of my retirement, far from it in fact as by the time you read this I will have already started or likely published the first book of my new series. I hope you’re ready to leave behind post-pandemic Europe and travel further in time with me to an alternative dystopian future, because that’s where I’m headed right now.
I say this often, but not often enough.
Thank you.
Keep Reading.
DCF
Thanks for reading. Please leave a review on Amazon if you enjoyed it!
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Table of Contents
After it Happened
Devon C Ford
PROLOGUE
BORING AS HELL
THEY SEE WHAT THEY WANT TO SEE
LIFE INSIDE THE WALL
L’ENCYCLOPÉDIE
THE SAFETY BUBBLE
DEAD DROP
HARD YARDS
GREEN CREDENTIALS
LAYERS UPON LAYERS
ROBIN HOOD
WASTED EFFORT
RELUCTANCE TO CHANGE
THE THREAT WITHIN
CONSOLIDATION
THE STORM
ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
EYES ON
FIRE SALE: EUROPEAN STYLE
THE INSIDE MAN
GAME CHANGER
ERROR 404 – SLEEP NOT FOUND
INVINCIBILITY LIES IN THE DEFENCE
SUSPICION
IT MUST BE A TRICK
STAND READY
UNTOLD DAMAGE
WHISKEY, TANGO, FOXTROT
THE MIXING POT
ROCKS AND HARD PLACES
IMPROVISATION
SO MANY QUESTIONS
BOXING DAY
END GAME
CHECK
SIEGE part 1
CHECKMATE
SIEGE part 2
STAIRWAY TO HELL
NOT LIKE THE MOVIES
FINAL ACT
JUST DESSERTS
IT’S A NEW DAY
ECHOES
AWKWARD CONVERSATION
EPILOGUE
