Human Nature

by Finlay Borthwick

  Later that evening, Steven was doing his gate duty – whilst under armed guard. “You don’t have to watch me all the time,” Steven suggested to his guard, “I’m better now.” A noise from within the tunnel drew both of their heads. “That’s a rather loud and heavy-sounding engine isn’t it?” Steven asked, but his guard still refused to speak to him. From around the corner, they saw a bus approaching the gate. “What the hell?” Steven looked bewildered. The guard made sure the magazine in his pistol was loaded, then holstered it again.

  As the bus pulled up at the gate, it stopped. Steven could clearly see the driver; however, he did not exit his vehicle. There were also passengers, although he could not tell how many. He waited for a few minutes, but still nothing happened. At last he gave in, and entered the code to open the gate. As it opened up, the engine started up again.

  The bus roared as it passed the gate, then it made a ‘puff’ sound as it halted just ahead of Steven and the guard. The doors opened, as the driver got off the bus, and slowly walked towards Steven. “Hello to you friend! My name is Kyle.” Steven waited for him to continue, but eventually realised that was Kyle’s entire introduction. “I’m Steven,” he blankly responded. “Pleasure to meet you Steven!” Kyle offered him a handshake. Warily, Steven slowly brought his hand up to accept the shake. As he did so, Kyle pulled Steven towards him and rapidly produced a knife, inserting it into the side of Steven’s throat. As the guard went to produce his pistol, he was shot by another man leaning out the bus window with a suppressed pistol. “Sweet dreams,” Kyle sinisterly whispered to Steven before letting him drop to the ground. “Move out!” Kyle called back to the bus, as perhaps twice a dozen armed men and women loaded off of it.

  Steven clenched the side of his throat desperately, as he watched Kyle’s group advancing on the city. Blood was leaking out of his mouth, as he made one last attempt to reach for his walkie-talkie. He brought it up to his mouth, but was too weak and senseless to press down on the button. He gagged as he tried to scream, before finally dropping the talkie, and rolling onto his back, Steven looked up at the beautiful evening sky, before drawing his terminal breath. At last, he closed his eyes and ceased any signs of movement.

  Chapter 3

  And so here he was again, Elliot now found himself back on a desolate road alone – as far as he knew at least. Occasionally he would turn back to look at the city, but the further he travelled, the less visible it became. Lowering his rucksack, he stopped off at the side of the road, preparing to set up a camp fire.

  Once the fire was lit, he reached into his bag to produce his sentimental items once again – the novel, the photo and the bracelet. Reaching further down, he pulled out a can of soup and a net. He tied the net to two upright sticks at either end of the fire, balancing the can over the fire. He laid back onto the grass, taking a deep breath and gazing up into the fiery evening sky.

  Sometime later, he had accidentally fallen asleep. His immediate concern was the soup. Pulling his body up, he noticed that the fire was still running, and the net still hanging; but the soup can had disappeared. Jumping to his feet in an instance, he pulled out his knife, surveying the area around him. He spent a considerable amount of time brushing through bushes, and peering behind trees – but he found no one. Though clearly frustrated, he still put his knife back on his side, and returned to the fire. Producing the second can of soup, he placed it on the net. Again, he went to lie back down. But as he did so, he was struck with an idea…

  Hiding in one of the bushes, he watched the fire like a hawk. He knew he couldn’t hide forever though, as the soup might evaporate if he left it too long. But his idea was working, in an opposite bush, he noticed the leaves rustling, several twigs snapping too. He could clearly see someone about to come out from the bushes. Gripping his knife tightly, he was ready to lunge at the intruder.

  From the bushes however, it was no enemy who emerged – instead it was just Gwen. Putting his knife away, Elliot emerged from his cover as well. “What are you doing here? Why have you followed me?” He sounded partly confused, but partly cross as well. “Oh, Elliot!” She was not expecting to be caught, and therefore had no excuse prepared. Elliot continued to glare at her, prompting her to sigh and tell the truth. “Look, we’re worried about you. Olivia and Me, we don’t believe that you’re cursed Elliot.” He laughed at that, “That’s funny because it’s not what Steven was saying this morning. You should give Olivia an award as well – from my executor to my keeper in less than a day.” He noticed the can of soup in her hand, “And you’re stealing my soup as well?” she looked down at it, then quickly shook her head in denial, “No, no! You fell asleep, I was making sure it didn’t burn, or blow up, or whatever happens to soup I don’t know.”

  They both sat at opposite sides of the fire. “Do you know how guilty Olivia feels about nearly killing you this morning?” He nodded, “Yes she’s in so much shock that she pretended to have feelings for me – very guilty.” Gwen reassured him, “Elliot she does care about you. Don’t pretend like you aren’t feeling the same way, you weren’t exactly resisting that kiss.” He shrugged, “Like you said Gwen, it’s guilt.” She moved around to his side of the fire, “Olivia gave me these,” she produced the keys to the armoury. “They can’t access their guns now that I have them. Therefore, we have to go back, Elliot. If we don’t, we’re leaving the camp defenceless – and then you really are causing people to die.” He looked away from her, “You go back then. You’re the one bearing the keys.” Gwen became stern, “I’m not going back without you. Elliot, all you have to do is come back and you will prevent people from dying. For all we know, there could be an attack happening right now.” He turned back to her, “Don’t say that. Don’t test chance and fate.” She nodded, “Then come back with me, and I won’t have to…”

  With both soup cans now heated up, they both had one each. Elliot slurped his can before Gwen was even half way done. “I’ve made my decision,” he told her, as she looked up at him. “Go back to the city, don’t go back to the city. If those people die, it’s on you for harbouring the keys Gwen, not me.” She threw her can down and aggressively rose up, “Listen to yourself Elliot! Innocent people are defenceless and all you can do is play the blame game! Now you are coming back with me if I have to drag you there myself!” He picked up his rucksack and began walking off without responding to her. “Elliot! Don’t you dare walk away from me!” She commanded, but he still ignored her. “I’m very sorry about this, you’ve left me with no other choice.” The quiet atmosphere of the night was ceased momentarily, as a gunshot reverberated out. Elliot slowly looked down at his left arm – a bullet had grazed the edge of it. Immediately he clenched it with his right arm. Although he was not in any real danger from the wound, it still stung like hell. To top it all off, he received the butt of a pistol to the back of his head – rendering him unconscious.

  As he slowly came back around, Elliot found himself in a wheelbarrow. It was rather rusty and cold. He was still regaining his energy, therefore did not have the strength to make a run for it. The back of his head was pounding, and his left arm still stung; it had not been treated at all, the gunshot graze was still seeping out blood. He eventually realised the wheelbarrow was moving and that someone was pushing him along. Although his vision was blurry, he could still distinctly make out Gwen’s hair and jacket on the person pushing him along. He tried to whisper her name, but still he was not strong enough, and thus passed back out again.

  The second time he woke up, he was just as energy-depleted as before. Except this time, he could make out a gate ahead of him. Clearly, Gwen had taken him all the way back to the London camp.

  “Hello?” Gwen banged on the gate and waved at the camera, but no one came. There was not even any sign of life inside. “Anybody home?” She kept trying nonetheless. She had suspected that everyone could be asleep, however every previous night there had been people on gate duty still. Once she had decided that something was wrong, she looked
around for another way to get inside. Both fortunately and unfortunately, there was another way – the sewers. She spotted a manhole cover, and tried several ways to pop it open.

  Unable to see Gwen, Elliot felt that this was his chance. Pulling himself up from the wheelbarrow, he tried to stand on his two feet. He wobbled momentarily, and then seemed to balance himself – but due to his lack of energy still and blurred vision, he collapsed back into the wheelbarrow again. Turning around upon hearing the sound of Elliot collapsing, Gwen rushed over to him. She pulled up his arm, noticing a small increase in blood loss from the wound. Her face filled with shock and fear, as she rushed back to the manhole cover in a desperate attempt to pull it off.

  At last, she had managed to do so. Throwing the cover aside, she ran back over to Elliot. “I’ll open the gate from the inside and come back for you, I promise.” Although he was passed out, she had a feeling he could still hear her somehow. Parting from him with a smile, she descended into the sewers.

  Gwen activated her penlight, although it didn’t brighten the sewers too much, it was better than total darkness. Oddly, it didn’t smell too foul either. Wasting no time, she travelled inwards in search of another manhole cover that would be within the walls this time. She came across several T-junctions, but none of them had hatches above them. “Come on, come on,” She wished while searching around. At one section, she had even found a manhole cover, but the ladder had been removed for some reason.

  Eventually, she found a section with both a hatch and a ladder leading up to it. “Bingo,” she said to herself as she ascended up the ladder. At first she banged against the manhole cover to force it open. Upon that idea not working, she flashed the penlight over it to see if there was another way to open it. She tried all the same methods she had done with the first one.

  However, whatever she did, the manhole cover just would not open. “Dammit!” She slammed it angrily, before preparing to climb back down. However, she was not entirely out of luck. Above her, she could hear someone fiddling with the cover. It was removed, allowing the moonlight to light Gwen’s ascent up into the outside world again. When she reached the top rung, a hand offered to pull her up, as she took it. “Thank you,” she said while catching her breath still facing the ground. “Oh, don’t thank me yet,” a familiar posh voice warned her. She froze for a moment, before looking up. Her face filled with horror upon seeing Kyle, the man who killed her husband, now holding her daughter at gunpoint in a headlock. “You try anything, and I’ll kill her too,” he smiled maliciously.

  “I don’t get it… how did you find us?” Gwen was furious mostly, but inquisitive too. “Get her up,” Kyle commanded his two henchmen who apprehended Gwen. Then he answered her question, “It was simple really. Your daughter took a revenge shot at two of my men – one of which was my brother.” Gwen shook her head, “And? She’s just a kid! A kid whose father you murdered!” As Gwen raised her tone, Kyle tightened his grip over Annabelle, “You people stumbled across our territory. We fired off warning shots at you, but you refused to listen. You caused your husband’s death.” She viciously tried to escape the grip of the two bandits’, but they firmly had her restrained. “Besides,” he continued, “We’re not even. I killed your husband, then this little bitch killed my best friend. If she left it at that, then maybe I wouldn’t have ransacked this camp today. But she didn’t leave it at that, she killed my brother as well. My two closest allies, dead within seconds of each other. So now, I have to level the playing field. Either you die, or she dies.”

  Gwen began to tear up, stuck for a response. “Oh don’t start crying. You should’ve seen this coming from miles away. Now, decide. Decide who dies.” Gwen looked at her daughter’s frightened expression, her mind was made up, “If I die, will you leave this place and its’ people alone? Including my daughter?” Kyle nodded, “As soon as one of you is dead, whoever is left alive here will remain that way. You’ll never have to see us again.” Gwen took a deep breath amongst her tears, “Then take me. Take my life.” Annabelle tried to break free desperately from Kyle’s headlock, “Mum! Please don’t! Don’t hurt her Kyle! I’m the one who killed your brother, kill me!” He rolled his eyes, “Ok so we have a dilemma here,” he inhumanly said, “The mother wants to sacrifice herself, but the daughter wants to sacrifice herself too. If you two don’t decide who’s going to die within the next ten seconds, I’ll just kill both of you.” Gwen and Annabelle looked into each other’s eyes, “It’s ok,” Gwen directed at her daughter, “I love you baby.” They both began to cry, as Annabelle looked away, severely upset. “Time’s up. Who’s it going to be? The daughter or the mother?” Gwen took a deep breath again, “Me.” This time, Annabelle couldn’t protest amongst her immense tears. “Excellent, let’s get right to it then.”

  The guards pushed Gwen down onto her knees in front of Kyle, as he primed his pistol. He hovered it over her head, as she looked over to her daughter – who was now being restrained by the henchmen rather than in Kyle’s headlock. “Any last words?” He asked her. “Your father and I always loved you,” she continued to look at her daughter, “We’ll be watching you, forever. I love you so much.” She turned away from her. Annabelle closed her eyes. Then, a gunshot rang out into the night…

  Chapter 4

  THEN

  The Bandits advanced into London, mercilessly. Any residents of the city that they encountered, they shot dead instantly. From the hotel, the group heard the gunfire. Vincent and Andy watched, ducking from their balcony. Both men looked at each other, “Bandits…”

  In another room, Olivia, Price and Erica watched from their balcony too. “What the hell is going on?” Price inserted a magazine into his pistol. “How did they get past the gate?” Olivia asked, but then a home truth hit her. “Wait…” she picked up her walkie-talkie desperately, “Steven? Steven are you there? Steven please come in!” All that returned was static. “He was with a guard you know; they might still be ok. Heck they may even have been at a different gate,” Erica reassured her. “I can’t tell how many of them there are!” Price panicked, “Olivia! The armoury keys, do you have them on you?” She checked herself, but then remembered, as a look of regret filled her face, “Oh…” Price and Erica looked at her with concerned expressions, “I gave them to Gwen. But Gwen went to follow Elliot. I’m such an idiot!” She hit the wall. Although Price and Erica agreed with her, they knew she needed as much support as possible right now. “Don’t blame yourself ‘Liv,” beyond that, they couldn’t reassure her much else.

  Vincent and Andy headed to the bar downstairs to warn the punters. Andy rang the bell behind the bar, drawing everyone’s attention. “Upstairs now! Everybody! Go!” They all looked at each other confused. Upon hearing the gunfire outside, they all seemed scared and bewildered, “Upstairs now!” Andy repeated, as they all obeyed. Vincent ran to each of the doors to lock them. “Andy mate, what the flaming heck’s going on?” Keith asked him, his arm around a scared Beth. “There’s these people. They’re very bad people. Murderers even.” Keith shrugged, “Who ain’t nowadays?” The gunfire drew closer, prompting Andy to physically push them towards the stairs, “They will kill all of us. Just go. Any room!” Vincent had succeeded in locking all the doors, “What now?” They looked at each other, out of ideas. On the furthest door, they could hear the Bandits trying to get in. “Upstairs, let’s go.” They both headed back up.

  On high alert, Olivia, Price and Erica continued to watch the chaos unfold. “I have to find my daughter, I’m going out there,” Erica went to the door, but Olivia pulled her back, “Are you crazy? You’ll die out there!” But she didn’t care, “As long as my daughter lives I don’t care if I die.” But still Olivia protested, “If you die now, then your daughter won’t live, and you’ll both die!” Priming his pistol, Price joined her at the door. “I won’t let them die,” he stood by Erica. “Stop it, both of you. Why are you protesting me? Are we not allies?” Olivia put her hands on her hips. “Your brother is out there too
. Come with us, and we’ll save him.” Olivia still protested even now, “My brother can handle himself. You two can’t. Have you seen how many people are flooding into the city right now with all kinds of guns?” They both nodded, “We’ve got one thing that they don’t – strategy. Openly invading a city is a dumb idea when there’s lots of buildings.” Olivia finally gave in, “Alright fine. I’ll keep you two alive.”

  Andy and Vincent tried all the doors, but they were all locked. “Christ! Won’t someone just let us in?” At a room further down the corridor, Beth poked her head out, “Andy! Vincent! In here!” They ran down into the room. “Thanks for that,” they caught their breath, bolting the door shut. “How could this happen?” Keith asked from the window at the other side of the room. Andy looked to Vincent, who shook his head, “We don’t know,” he answered. Andy looked confused by this, but then Vincent leant in and whispered, “If we tell them that our group is the reason for their invasion, we’ll get thrown out to them!” Andy understood the logic, but also debated if a sacrifice could stop it all.

  At the refugee camp, the Bandits had massacred everyone. Annabelle however kept hidden in a large bush, watching the Bandits examining all the bodies. “She’s not here,” One of them relayed to an unseen person. Shifting over silently, Annabelle noticed who this man was – Kyle. She clenched her fists angrily. Part of her wanted to run out and kill him right there, but the other part knew discretion was the better part of valour.