Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2)

by John Wilkinson

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I shouted. ‘Don’t touch it.’ The dog ran off when it saw us coming, which I was glad about, I didn’t really want the problem of getting rid of it. It looked like a terrier, and was dark brown in colour. It had been messing with one the dead bodies when we found it, which was a worrying sign. As we walked off, I noticed it was behind us, it followed for around ten minutes until I turned around and shouted at it. ‘Go away you stupid dog.’

  ‘It’s not stupid, it’s got no home’ said Emma. ‘Can it come with us?’

  ‘Absolutely not, it could be dangerous.’

  ‘You said they weren’t dangerous yesterday, it just wants some food.’

  ‘I don’t care what I said yesterday, it isn’t coming with us.’ I shouted at the dog a few more times before it ran off, and I received a dressing down from Emma about how mean I had become. Shortly after Bigger, we had our only altercation of the day, at the time Emma was walking behind me, I just got a feeling we were being followed, and kept looking behind, the lack of wind made it easy to spot someone and sure enough there was a man. For a mile or so he followed until I decided to take a rest, and let him pass, at first he appeared hesitant but soon continued on towards us. I got a couple of bars of chocolate out of my bag and some bottles of water, we sat eating and drinking as he drew nearer. ‘Remember you are a boy Emma’ I said.

  ‘I don’t want to be a boy.’

  ‘I know you don’t, but you have to.’

  The man cautiously approached until close enough to speak, he had very long dark greasy hair underneath a bright red beanie hat, a long black beard, dark overalls and a big black winter jacket. Dried mud was caked all the way up his legs, arms and torso, he looked like a broken man, jittery and desperate, and desperate men are capable of desperate acts. ‘Where are you guys going?’ He asked. At first I didn’t respond, I just sat looking at my food. I kept my hand in my pocket, on my gun the whole time, watching him out of the corner of my eye for anything I didn’t like. ‘Can you guys spare any food?’ He said, hovering around us. I got a bar of chocolate from my rucksack and threw it to him, hoping he would move along, but he thanked me and continued. ‘Where are you guys going?’

  ‘We aren’t going in the same direction as you’ I replied abruptly.

  ‘Oh right, you don’t want anyone tagging along, I understand, you wouldn’t even know I was here.’

  ‘You aren’t coming with us’ I said, looking up at him. ‘You need to be on your way.’

  ‘I’m just trying to get by here, I have lost my group, it’s a dangerous place for someone on their own.’

  ‘I don’t care if you are on your own, do you think there’s less chance of you getting attacked if your with us?’

  ‘Hey, you can trust me, I can see what’s going on here, you’ve got your child with you, I understand, maybe you could do with some help.’ I stood up, pulled my gun out and walked towards him, raising it towards his head. He flinched, raising his hands to his face as he spoke. ‘Hey, please don’t kill me, I just needed some help.’

  ‘I don’t want to kill you, I have killed more people than I would like, but you are pushing your luck.’

  ‘Hey, please, calm down man, I was just trying to be friendly.’

  ‘I’m not interested in making friends, if you don’t leave now I will put a bullet in you.’ The man lowered his arms, and quickly walked past us, he continued up the field, turning around a few times to check on us, until he was gone. ‘Why were you so mean to him dad?’

  ‘I wasn’t.’

  ‘You were, you never used to be mean, he only wanted some food, and we have plenty.’

  ‘He didn’t only want food, he wanted to join our group.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that? He seemed like a nice man, and you were so mean to him.’

  ‘It’s just another thing for me to have to deal with, I cannot take any chances.’

  ‘You didn’t have to shout at him, he was scared.’

  ‘I had to let him know I was serious, we have no bullets left, I had to scare him, and get him to leave.’

  I don’t think Emma had ever seen me angry with someone, she looked a bit shaken up by it. I don’t want to scare her, I remember the effect it had on me as a child, when I saw my dad lose control but she needs to learn fast the dangers that surround us now. For the middle stretch of the journey, Emma would hold onto the rope around my waist and sit on the plastic sheets, I would pull her through the mud and sludge like on a sledge, which she enjoyed. I tried to lighten the mood a bit as we walked, and asked her if she had any good jokes. She came up with this, ‘What does a snowman ride around on?’

  ‘I don’t know, what does a snowman ride around on?’

  ‘An icicle.’

  ‘An icicle? Why is that funny?’

  ‘Do you not get it? Icicle, bicycle, you know?’

  ‘Oh right, yeah I get it.’

  ‘I made it up, just now, riding around on this sledge.’

  ‘Made it up, you do surprise me. Here I’ve got one for you, why is eight afraid of seven?’

  ‘I don’t know, why is eight afraid of seven?’

  ‘Because seven, eight, nine.’ Most of my jokes are met with stony silence, and this one was no different, but I’m pretty sure it’s funny, so I asked her if she had understood it.

  ‘No, is it supposed to be funny? I thought it was one of your unfunny jokes.’

  ‘I don’t have unfunny jokes, just jokes you don’t get. Seven, eight, nine. Seven ate nine.’

  ‘That’s stupid.’

  ‘It made me laugh.’

  ‘How much more walking do we have to do today.’

  ‘A couple more hours, are you tired?’

  ‘Yeah, I wanna stop soon, I’m getting hungry.’

  ‘I do feel sorry for you, it must be hard work being pulled around like this.’

  I turned around to speak to her, and found the dog still behind us, and she was enticing it to follow, which annoyed me. ‘It cannot come with us’ I shouted, removing my crowbar from my rucksack.

  ‘What are you going to do with that?’ She said, climbing off the plastic sheet and running after me.

  ‘I’m going to give it a good hiding.’

  ‘You cannot do that, you’ll kill it.’

  ‘Yes I can’ I said, welding the crowbar like a baseball bat. I ran after the dog, swinging wildly, but it ran away and hid, too fast for me to catch.

  ‘Don’t hurt it dad’ she pleaded, tears rolling down her face. ‘Please stop, it won’t hurt us. She wrapped her arms around my leg, using what little strength she had left to stop me.

  ‘It might be carrying radiation, or diseases, we cannot have it following us, one scratch from it could be fatal.’

  ‘You cannot kill it though dad, you just cannot’ she sobbed, collapsing onto the floor. I put my crowbar back on its attachment, and sat down beside her. ‘You do understand why it cannot come with us don’t you?’ I said, putting my arm around her slim frame, and pulling her into me.

  ‘I just don’t want you to hurt it’ she sobbed, ‘It’s done nothing wrong.’

  ‘What do you want us to do?’

  ‘If it cannot come with us’ she said, looking for my response as I shook my head. ‘Then we need to give it some food, so it won’t die.’ After some thought, I opened a couple of tins of corn beef, and tipped the contents onto the floor. I asked Emma to call the dog over while I stayed out of the way, further up the track. The dog slowly made its way towards her, curious but apprehensive. When it was close enough, I called Emma over and we continued to walk towards George’s, she kept glancing back hoping it would follow us again, but it didn’t. I noticed a river to our right, it was some distance away at first, but it slowly started to cut through the landscape towards us, soon crossing our path. With the help of my map, I identified the river as the Clyde, we crossed it at a shallow point and followed it, keeping it on our left. It continued parallel to the road for miles, allowing us to follow it
knowing we were going in the right direction. For the next thirty minutes Emma proceeded to mention the fact she was hungry seventeen times, I know, I counted them. We took advantage of a break in the rain to sit down for some food and water in a garage built on the side of a house overlooking the river. I didn’t light a fire as it was just a short break, we weren’t that cold anyway, just wet, as long as we strip off our clothes and dry ourselves properly before sleep tonight we will be okay. Inside was an old wooden boat covered by tarpaulin, whose blue and white paint had mostly peeled off. There was other boating gear, some good quality fishing equipment, and a couple of fold up camping chairs. We looked out over the river as the raindrops rippled across the surface, the water looked black like tar. We had a tin of cold tuna and sweet corn before heading back out, just as the night came and the temperature dropped. When we left, we took the fishing gear and the fold up chairs, adding further weight to my overflowing rucksack, by attaching them with some rope I found in the boat. We made our way along the tow-path, after a couple of miles, I noticed a dark protrusion in the road ahead, at first I thought it was just a clump of mud and ash, but as I got closer I realised it was a body. There was a wooden bench ten yards before it, which I sat Emma on, while I went to investigate. The body was the man we had met that morning, he had been beaten to death, a large blooded rock sat beside his head. Both of his legs had been hacked off around his thigh in a barbaric fashion, removed with something like an axe. I was very concerned that whoever had done this, might come back for the rest, or could still be around, watching us. I went back to Emma and lifted her up to my chest, so she was facing me, I told her not to look at the body on the floor, and to keep her eyes on me. I held her tight and walked past the body continuing to follow the river, after a few minutes she asked me about it. ‘Was it the man we saw this morning?

  It was wasn’t it dad?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘I know you said don’t look, but I did.’

  ‘What did you see?’

  ‘I saw his red hat, it was him wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was. But I told you not to look, you won’t have nightmares about something you didn’t see.’

  ‘How did he die?’

  ‘He was beaten to death, probably with rocks.’

  ‘He didn’t die from his legs getting cut off?’

  ‘No, that happened after death.’

  ‘Why did they do that?’

  ‘I think they were hungry.’

  ‘No way, why would they eat them?’

  ‘They have no food, and they are desperate.’

  ‘We could have just given them some food, no one’s going to eat me are they?’

  ‘No they’re are not, I won’t let that happen, but this is why you have to do exactly what I tell you.’

  The river went under the road we were following via a bridge, we followed as it lead us into the field where George had dropped Roy and myself off. I wanted to get back to the farm before the end of today so pushed on through the final hours walk, carrying Emma as she was exhausted. It was a hard slog, and she fell asleep in my arms. I was overwhelmed when I saw the trees around their farm, so grateful to have got there unscathed. The last hundred yards seemed to finish me off, like a long distance runner trying to reach the finishing line, Emma seemed to weigh a tonne. I didn’t have the strength to get my torch out to signal the lookout, I feared if I put Emma down to try, I wouldn’t be able to pick her up again. My arms were burning with pain, I couldn’t lift her any higher and she was sinking closer towards the floor with every step. When I reached the wooden steps to the front door, I expected to be greeted by George welding his shotgun, but the house was quiet. I opened the front door with my elbow, and walked into the hallway, calling out, not wanting to be mistaken for an intruder, but there was no response. The house was really cold, and in complete silence. I climbed up the creaking stairs and into the bedroom I had used on my last visit, putting Emma on the bed while I removed the rucksack from my aching arms. She had all the movement of a doll, as I removed her wet clothes, hanging them up to dry, and tucked her up in bed. I opened my bag and rummaged around until I found my torch, then walked out onto the landing and turned it on. I stopped still to listen to the house for any sign of movement, it just made the kind of noises old houses do, I walked over to George and June’s room, knocked on the door and with no response opened it. I shone the light around the room, inside it was empty, the bed was made and the room was tidy. For peace of mind, I searched all the rooms upstairs, including the lookout point, for anything I should be worried about. But there was no sign of anyone, I looked out of the window at the surrounding area, but nothing seemed out of place. George’s truck was still sat on the drive, which seemed odd, could he have moved everyone without his vehicle. I went downstairs and searched the remainder of the building with my torch, through the living room and into the kitchen, down the steps and into the cellar. I couldn’t find any sign of them, or of a struggle, everything looked like it had the morning I left. I went back to the bedroom, confused as to where everyone was, but exhausted and in need of getting some sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  20/11/2027 - Time 21:00

  I didn’t have the best sleep last night, laying awake for long periods, constantly checking on Emma and worrying about any noises. I got up quite early, leaving her asleep in bed, got dressed and went to have another look around, to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. First I went back to George’s bedroom, and re checked the entire top floor, but there was still no sign of them. I went back downstairs and into the kitchen, climbing down the stairs to the cellar. A little more light was finding its way into the room, through the small windows across the edge of the ceiling, but I still needed to use my torch to look around. All the ladies personal belongings were still in the room, suitcases and bags were sat open on the beds that followed the edge of the room. Clothes, hair brushes and make up were scattered around, not things I would expected to be left by any females planning a move to a new start. I started to worry, where could they have all gone? There was no sign of a struggle, nothing was broken, George’s truck was still sat on the drive at the front. There was no blood or bodies, they had just disappeared. I examined the fire to see when it had last been used, maybe a few days ago. I sat down for a few minutes to think about it, there was no reason to assume foul play, the place was still as neat and tidy as normal. But I made the decision we should move out as soon as we had eaten breakfast, and I would decide on our destination on the road. I went outside and into the outhouse where we had stored the fire wood, I picked up an arms full and brought it back into the living room, placing it by the fireplace. I picked up a couple of pieces and put them in the fire pit, pouring over some lighter fluid and lighting it. I let it burn for a few minutes to get the heat up, before filling the kettle up with fresh water and hanging it over the top. I decided to wake Emma up as it boiled, and get her dressed before breakfast, but as I walked towards the stairs, I heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. I went to the living room window to investigate, half expecting to see George arriving back, but it was a truck full of men. I ran upstairs and into the master bedroom, which overlooked the front of the house, as the vehicle stopped next to George’s truck, and six men had got out. Two started to walk around the house in opposite directions, the other four climbed the wooden stairs to the front door and came in, their voices echoing up the stairs. I crept across the landing to my room and climbed onto the bed, putting my hand over Emma’s mouth, her startled eyes opened and I told her to be quiet, I could tell from the look on her face she knew something was wrong. I pulled the blankets off her and told her to get dressed, I picked up my crowbar and stood at the door listening to what was happening downstairs, the men were ransacking the room in search of anything of value. I didn’t have much time, how long before one of them noticed the fire had been lit, or the kettle started to whistle. I looked over at Emma who was dressed, with Ella clutched to he
r chest, and trying not to cry. The stairs began to creak as someone started to climb up them, I moved over to the door and ushered Emma behind me with my hand. My crowbar was pointing at the floor as the man reached the top of the stairs, I tightened my grip as his footsteps got closer, but then they turned and started to walk away. I peeked around the door frame and watched him walk down the corridor and into George’s bedroom. I quickly moved to the window overlooking the back of the house, one of the men was walking around the building to the left, as he disappeared from sight, I opened the window. It moved outwards swinging from the top, I lodged the window open with my crowbar between the frame, and dropped my rucksack onto the back of the vehicle below, the truck we had backed against the cellar door. I climbed onto the windowsill, sitting with one leg inside the house and one hanging out, I told Emma to hold my hand while I lifted her, and then lowered her down onto the trailer below. I turned to look back into the house as the man walked from George’s bedroom to the room opposite, working his way towards us. I held onto the window frame, removed the crowbar and gently lowered the window down, resting it on my back. As I climbed out, it slid down my arms, and then my fingers before I dropped down. I picked up my rucksack and grabbed Emma’s hand. We climbed off the back of the truck onto the muddy ash floor, and put our backs against the building wall. I held Emma behind me with my hand as I peeked around the wall, there was a man ten yards away walking towards us with his rifle in his hand. I wiped the sweat off my hands to get more purchase on the crowbar, he seemed to take an age to reach us, but as he walked around the corner I swung at his face, smashing him across the forehead. It sent him sprawling to the floor, were he stayed motionless. I grabbed Emma’s hand and we ran around the building in the direction he had been walking, as we reached the front of the house, I could see the other man disappearing around the side. From here we could see George’s truck, parked next to the gangs vehicle, our only hope was that his keys were in the sun blind, where he normally leaves them. I pulled my knife out of my rucksack and held it in my left hand, and with my right hand I grabbed Emma’s as we ran across the front of the house to the trucks. I opened the front door for Emma to get in, and turned to the other vehicle plunging my knife deep into the tyre, causing a loud bang as air rushed to get out. I ran around to the drivers seat, climbed in next to Emma, and opened the sun blind catching the key as it dropped out. I put it into the ignition, started the engine and pressed my foot onto the accelerator, aiming towards the tunnel off the property. I never turned around to see if we were being followed, just flashing the odd glance in my mirrors, but I never heard a thing, only the sound of the engine. I was driving through the field with the M6 to my right, smashing through wooden fences and driving straight over hedgerows. I was a bit out of control, driving too fast, and likely to crash, but a close shave with an unsighted ditch gave me chance to stop and calm myself. I turned around to check we weren’t being followed, I had no idea where I was going or what I was doing, I only made a decision to go to Bernard’s when I saw a sign for the A702 to Dumfries, the same road we had followed to Edinburgh. The fields were rough and uneven, but George’s truck was a match for anything in its way, it was showing its age though, squeaking and creaking on every bounce. I had to drive on the M6 to get to the A702, I had wanted to avoid such dangers but it had to be done, I remained vigilant at all time, on the lookout for anything that looked suspicious. There was nothing, and we were only on it for a couple of miles, waiting for the junction to Dumfries. We followed that, heading back into the fields when the break in the bollards allowed, and then through the hedgerow. The frozen hard ground helped the tyre’s to get some traction, I could see more snow appearing in the sky as we continued towards the coast, the temperature dropped and the wind started to pick up. It barrelled across the open fields, knocking the vehicle sideways like a tidal wave, I was glad it was an old truck without power steering, I have always found them hard to handle in high winds. As we headed down the north west coast, the landscape began a pattern of fields and farm land intersected by country roads, forests and rivers. George’s truck dealt with all of them, on the few occasions we lost track of the road, through obstacles in our path, we would take a detour around the outside using the map to confirm we were on track. While on one of these detours, we past a few people walking in the same direction. I saw them from some distance away, struggling through the blustery snow, when they heard the truck they turned around to face us and waved. But I wasn’t stopping for anyone, when we past I heard their cries for help, one of the men continued to run after our vehicle, I watched him through my rear view mirror waving his hat in the air, running after us until he collapsed through exhaustion. With an unobstructed drive, we made good progress until a river cut straight across our path, we had pretty much driven straight over or through everything up until that point, but this forced us to stop. It wasn’t too wide, but it was moving at some pace. The water was dark black in colour, huge striking pieces of ice were floating on top. With the help of my map, I identified the river as ‘The water of AE,’ which to be honest, I had never heard of. I drove along side the river for a couple of fields trying to find a bridge or crossing but there was only a foot bridge, too small for the truck. The A702 that we were following, travelled over the river on a bridge, but all four lanes had collapsed into the river. I got out and had a closer look, wondering if it had collapsed due to a shock wave. I wouldn’t have thought it would cause that kind of damage, the distance we are away from the closest impact zone. There were huge black marks on the bridge, spiked and jagged like the impact of an explosion. I touched them with my finger, the singed black ash coated the tip. I rubbed it between my fingers, it had the consistency of charcoal, which I wiped onto the concrete wall. I picked up a rock the size of a tennis ball from the embankment, and threw it into the air over the river. It dropped into the middle causing a large cascade of water, but it didn’t look too deep to cross. I got back into the truck, started the engine and rolled it to the edge of the river. ‘What are you doing daddy?’