‘We’re not doing anything.’
‘Why are you still here? You were told to leave the area weeks ago.’
‘We’ve got nowhere to go.’
‘That’s not my problem, Mr. Torriero’s opened a camp in the local church, you should be there.’
‘Oh right, come on James, we better be on our way.’ I walked over towards my rucksack, but the man spoke before I had chance to pick it up.
‘So this is your boy is it?’ Suddenly taking an interest in Emma.
‘What’s your name little fella?’
‘James’ replied Emma.
‘That’s a good strong boys name, how old are you James.’
‘Seven.’
‘Really? Seven, you are a big boy.’
The man walked right up close to her and stopped, he bent down until his face was next to hers and said, ‘I’m sorry to have to do this James, but I’m going to have to ask you to take your clothes off.’ He turned his head to face me before continuing, ‘I’m sure you understand, I don’t want to but I have my orders.’
‘Come on mate, there’s no need for that, we’ll just be on our way.’
‘Oh sorry, I cannot let you go until I’m happy this little fella is definitely a boy.’
Emma was just looking at me, waiting to see what I said, but I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know what to say.’
‘Come on James, get your clothes off’ he said. ‘Then you can be on your way.’
I could see Emma’s bottom lip starting to wobble, she unzipped her jacket and pulled her arms out, placing it on the sofa.
‘Come on, come on’ he shouted, ‘I haven’t got all day.’ She was trying not to cry, but her eyes were becoming redder and redder. I felt helpless, it was so upsetting, tears were rolling down her face as the man was barking orders at her, there was nothing I could do. ‘That’s enough’ I said. ‘He’s down to his shirt and pants, it’s freezing cold you know, he’ll end up ill.’
‘I will tell you when it’s enough’ the man replied. ‘Take your top off and then your pants.’
‘I don’t want to take my pants off, please daddy’ she said, looking at me for some kind of help.
‘Take your fucking pants off now’ he shouted, waving his rifle in Emma’s direction. I looked out of the window overlooking the street, the truck had now moved out of sight, but I could still hear it, I walked around the sofa so I was closer to Emma. She was now down to her pants and underpants, she was struggling to get her jeans off with her boots still on. ‘Take your boots off first you fucking clown’ he shouted. She was now in floods of tears, trembling with fear. She got her jeans off and stood up in front of the man, dressed in just a pair of underpants. He was leering at her, using his gun to point, I walked around to my crowbar, leaning against the sofa, fortunately he hadn’t been around this side of the room. ‘Now the underpants’ said the man, ‘Take them off.’ Emma looked at me with tear drenched eyes, her fingers hovering around the waist band. The man was standing between us, but he only had eyes for her, I picked up the crowbar in one quick motion and ran at him. He realised I was approaching, and took evasive measures, but I still managed to connect with his back and neck with the crowbar, he dropped the rifle and winced at the impact, putting his hands up to his head. I kicked the rifle under the bed and swung at him again but he ducked and it ripped into the wall sending discoloured plaster spraying across the floor, I swung again but this time he caught the edge of the crowbar with his right hand. We wrestled with the it, each landing ineffectual blows before he forced me over the arm of the sofa and onto the floor. I fought with all my strength, but he was strong, the weight of his body was crippling me. I wasn’t aware exactly where Emma was, but I could hear her whimpering, as he pushed me down onto the floor with the crowbar across my neck. I could see his rifle under the bed, I stretched my arm out but it wouldn’t grow the few inches needed to reach it. I pulled my arm back, struggling to keep the pressure from the crowbar off my neck. He was above me looking down, his eyes widened as he moved in for the kill. I couldn’t lift the weight off my neck, his face got closer and closer until I could smell his foul breath. He was that close, for a few seconds all I could focus on was the greasy pours of his skin, until my eyesight started to blur, whiten, he spoke to me in a quiet, almost reassuring voice. ‘Before I give her to Mr. Torriero, I’m going to rape her, and then I’m going to give her to every man on that truck, and they are all going to rape her. I just wanted you to know that, before you die.’ I was drifting towards unconsciousness, with his words rolling around my head, when the pain suddenly disappeared, the weight on my chest and throat ceased. I was coughing, from deep down in my chest, my eyesight flooded back, and I looked up to find Emma stood above me, with her arms out in front holding my Welrod. The man was slumped over me, with a pool of blood forming to my side. I pushed him off and rolled over, still coughing and spluttering to face her. ‘Dad, dad’ she cried. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes love, I’m fine.’
‘I shot him dad, I shot him.’
‘I know you did, you did well Emma, but we have to go, get your clothes on.’ I staggered over to the window to gauge how far away the truck was, it was out of sight, only a couple of men were still visible, walking away from us. I helped Emma finish getting dressed, and we grabbed all our belonging, heading down the stairs, through the newsagent’s and onto the street. We stuck as close to the shop fronts as possible and ran as fast as we could away from the building, avoiding any debris on the floor. I pulled Emma along, her feet barely touching the floor. When we reached Bernard’s side street, I glanced behind us to check we weren’t being followed, before sprinting across the main road and down the cobbled ally. You could be forgiven for missing Bernard’s place, if you didn’t know it was there. Hidden within a U shaped building, it was hard to tell there was even a flat there, never mind a shop. It had nothing visible to distinguish it as a premises, and was accessed by just one door, surrounded by big industrial bins. Bernard’s wife Maureen had died of cancer some ten years ago leaving him with a large critical illness payout, so he didn’t really need to work, but he enjoyed the social side of it. He was a striking man, topping out at around six foot four, even at an age somewhere over seventy, he was still a formidable character. A decorated veteran of both the Iraq wars, he settled in Dumfries with his wife, running a small ammo shop selling to veterans. He had known my father for over fifty years, they worked together for a while just out of college, and had consequently become good friends of mine. Emma knows him as uncle Bernard, although he had no family connection, he has always been a part of our lives. The metal rollers were pulled down over the door and locked, but this was normally the case, he always left a key under the nearest bin to the door, behind the far right wheel. The bin was so heavy with compacted black ash, I couldn’t move it. I knelt down in the wet, and moved the bits of rubbish away until I found the key. I expected the noise created by opening and shutting the rollers might alert anyone inside to our presence, and sure enough, by the time I had re-locked the door, Bernard was standing at the top of the stairs with a shotgun looking down the stairwell at us. ‘Well God damn me’ he said, ‘I thought I would never see a friendly face again.’
‘You nearly didn’t’ I said, still a bit shaken up with what had just happened.
‘I bet’ he replied. ‘You’re rocking that new haircut Emma, are you taking good care of your dad?’ She was so grateful to see a face she recognised, she ran up the stairs to meet him, he picked her up and threw her into the air. ‘Yes uncle Bernard,’ she said. ‘I’m looking after him really well.’ He put her down to give me a hug, and we walked through the shop and up another set of stairs to his flat. His front room suffers from the lack of a females touch, just like mine. I don’t think its been decorated since Maureen died, its dark and old fashioned, just how single men like to live. Made up of just two rooms, there’s an open plan living area with a kitchen, and a bedroom, with a toilet and sink in the
corner. The house was always warm, probably due to being surrounded on all sides by buildings. Emma took herself off to the toilet as Bernard and I sat on the sofa to fill each other in. ‘Are Clifford and Patricia okay Nathan?’
‘I don’t think they made it.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, they were good people, a lot of good people have died. Do you know for sure they are dead?’
‘Not really, but I believe they are, they knew the plan to stay in the bomb shelter, but they never got there, and they wouldn’t leave Emma on her own like that.’
‘No they wouldn’t. How is Emma doing?’
‘I don’t know, I’m always worried about her. She has already seen things I wish she hadn’t.’
When Emma arrived back, she climbed onto Bernard’s knee and told him about the journey. ‘Your dad tells me you’ve been very brave.’
‘Yes I am brave, if anyone had tried to get me I would have smacked them in the face.’
‘I bet you would, you’ve always liked a skirmish.’
‘Do you know what the worst thing was Uncle Bernard?’
‘No what?’
‘We had to walk everywhere, for ages.’
‘Are you tired?’
‘No not now, I’m completely awake. But I was tired, I was really tired, but dad made me carry on walking. I nearly lost my temperature with him.’
‘Temperature?’ Bernard laughed.
‘Yeah my temperature.’
‘You mean temper.’
‘That’s what I said, temper.’
It was such a weight off my mind, to be in the company of someone I completely trusted, and who Emma was comfortable with. I’ve not felt this safe since I came to the surface. I picked up a tired looking daughter and carried her into Bernard’s bedroom, he would always take the sofa when we stayed, no matter how many times I told him he should be on the bed at his age. I stripped Emma’s clothes off her and tucked her up in bed, just leaving enough room for myself. I went back into the living area, and spoke to Bernard about his experiences since the attack. He gave me a glass of whisky and explained how he watched the day unfold on TV, until all communication went down. ‘When the power went’ he said, taking a sip of his drink. ‘I went outside to see what was going on, I was probably out there for an hour, as the magnitude of what had happened started to slowly ripple over the community. We all felt the bombs explode, I had to steady myself against the lamppost, the ground shook, a few windows cracked and fell out, smashing on the floor. The street started to fill up with neighbours, and general shoppers. The black ash clouds arrived within an hour, it was this that really caused the panic, the streets were soon deserted as people ran to find cover. I stayed outside until the rain came.’ We had talked for years about the possibility of a third world war, it was probably Bernard that convinced me it was going to happen. So he was as prepared as me, with a large supply of food, water and weapons, he even had his cellar and garage at the back of his property lined with lead. He only ventured from his house on a few occasions, so knew less about the creatures than I did, but he knew what they were doing to the females. When I told him what I knew, he asked me how much of it I had explained to Emma, I told him I had skirted around most of it, she simply wouldn’t understand. Bernard had some interesting views on how the war might have started, ideas I had never considered. ‘Do you know who detonated the first bomb?’ He asked intriguingly. ‘Who started this whole thing.’
Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2) Page 18
