I had found what an eight-hour pack run was by listening to the other soldiers who had been lucky not to be on burial duty and end up having to partake in the punishment bought about by their companion. In full kit which included a fully loaded back pack they had to run and keep on running. If they felt they had to get up, if they didn’t get up, they were dragged along until they did get up.
I saw them stagger back just after nine o clock as I was closing the windows in the lounge area, Captain Lacks-Renton had made sure they had paid their dues. They were all filthy, saturated in mud, weeds, dirt and by the smell, cow shit. They were also covered in bloody cuts, some quite deep because I heard Captain Lacks-Renton shout at them to go and see the medic.
The soldiers had stumbled toward the conference centre billet, still swearing but by the sound it, glad to be back at Thorncroft.
A couple of hours later I was outside, staring up at the moon, wondering about our chances of survival when I heard sobbing. Someone was crying. I stiffened, and then I heard retching and I instinctively got up, moving into the shadows on the other side of the kitchen door where the rubbing and recycling bins were kept. The sensor light went on as I passed it.
He was crumpled by one of the bins, his face swollen and blood was bubbling out of his nose. He was clad only in his green combat boxer shorts and a very torn vest. He had just been sick, and I saw bloody vomit near the wheels of the bin.
It was Private Salter. I moved backwards and the second sensor light came on. I sucked in my breath, the young soldier’s eyes met mine. His lips were torn and covered in clotted blood. He had a huge wound on his scalp and one eye was completely closed, the other was blood shot and weeping. He was shivering, clutching a wrist that was bigger than it should have been and he spat out a mouthful of vomit and blood.
The full pack-run hadn’t done that to him, he had been given one hell of a beating, probably after getting back from the run.
He didn’t expect me to help him, but I remembered the first sound I had heard before the retching. Sobbing. Pitiful sobbing.
I turned and ran to the garage, my brace clicking painfully against my protesting knee. Moments later Mitch was squatting down beside the soldier.
“Jesus Christ,” Mitch said and he gently touched Salter’s arm, “What the hell happened to you son?”
“Fell over,” the young soldier rasped, then he whimpered when Mitch touched his wrist.
“Must have been a hell of a fall,” the old soldier said grimly and he turned to me, “Go get his Colonel, Lucy, I’ll get him inside.”
I quickly headed in the direction of the conference centre as this was where I Wolf had gone to. The building was lit up and I saw shadows of people moving across the pulled down blinds.
When I entered the large room, the smell hit me. Cigarette smoke, coffee, sweat, and testosterone, and that was just from the female soldiers. I heard laughter and voices as I pushed open the door but that ended as soon as the soldiers saw me.
The conference room had been turned into a kind of communal living area, all the strip lighting was on and the room was brightly lit. The huge table was covered in army gear from rifles to combat jackets. Some of the soldiers were sitting on chairs cleaning their boots, a couple were at the table drinking coffee and one female soldier, a dark haired woman was sharpening a bowie knife on some sort of flat piece of metal. It didn’t look like army issue.
“What the fuck does she want?” the voice came from the right of me.
Now I had a choice right at that moment, I could either be intimidated by the hostile people in the room, or I could say what I thought and to hell with the consequences.
I made my mind up quickly, “She would like all of you all to get the fuck out of her life but tragically for her that won’t happen for another three weeks.”
There was a snort of laughter from the female soldier sharpening her knife, “That told you Maddox,” she said.
“Screw you Tiffany,” the soldier called Maddox said and the woman laughed again.
“In your dreams,” she said, “In your dreams!”
“I need to speak to your Colonel,” I directed my words to the female soldier, and I added a polite, “Please,” she stood up and went through a door at the back of the room.
It was going to be an uncomfortable time for me waiting for the Colonel, the hostility in the room was like thick icing on a cake. Just then Corporal Peters, the soldier who I had gauged had a sense of humour clattered into the conference room, followed by two other men, they had obviously been on patrol.
Our eyes met and he said, “What are you doing here?” he wasn’t being rude so I wasn’t rude back.
“I need to speak to your Colonel,” I said to him.
“Yes Miss Lal?” the Colonel’s voice startled me. It also made all the soldiers jump up, standing to attention. The officer came out of the door that the soldier called Tiffany had gone through, she was behind him.
“Your Private Salter,” I said, “He’s been hurt.”
I watched the faces of the soldiers directly in front of me and behind the Colonel. Most didn’t react, but I saw eyes flick between some of them.
“What do you mean?” Wolf said.
“Someone kicked the crap out of him,” I said, and then I added for clarification “And no, it wasn’t any of us cripples and retards.”
“Get Barnes,” Wolf ordered the soldier I now knew as Maddox. She turned to go back through door she had just come out of, “Where is he?”
“Mitch has taken him into the home,” I replied, “He has a nasty head injury.”
Lieutenant Barnes appeared a moment later, carrying a large canvas bag which I guessed was full of medical supplies. Both he and the Colonel swiftly left the building and I started to follow them but not before I caught the eye of Private Duke. He and the other soldiers had relaxed when Wolf had left and he had sat back down at the table, reaching for a mug of coffee. I saw his hands then, they were bloody and bruised. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it because the room had all the Pack Run soldiers in it, and they were all bruised and battered but Duke hadn’t been on that run. He hadn’t been on grave digging duty and therefore had not been part of the group that had paid for Salter’s stupidity.
Duke saw me looking at his hands, and I wasn’t fast enough to hide the fact I had guessed he was the one who had beaten up Salter.
“Can’t you afford a punching bag?” I said to the soldier. I wasn’t Private Salter’s best friend, in fact I wanted to kick him in the balls for two reasons, but this was five steps too far, even for me at my angriest.
“Fuck!” the soldier called Maddox had been one of the pack-run men, it was obvious that everyone in the room was aware of what had happened to the young soldier after the run.
“She won’t say anything to the Colonel,” Duke said looked at it bruised hands and flexed them and I knew instantly what he was saying. If I told the Colonel, he would find a way to hurt Salter again.
“You better go,” Corporal Peters stepped in front of me, blocking Duke from my view. I clenched my fists, but I knew that Corporal Peters was right. I swung on my heels.
“I told you she was clever,” Duke said to his companions as I shut the door behind me, my skin was clammy, with confused thoughts running through my brain. I was not only confused.
I was scared too. Really scared. Not of Duke, he was dangerous, I knew that instinctively, there was something about him really disturbed me but it wasn’t fear, no what I was truly scared of, was myself. The world I had closed my eyes too for so long was now directly in my line of sight and as it looked back at me, all I could think was, “Bring it on you bastard, bring it on…”
Adapted Makaton - a language program born out of the original Makaton language for Thorncroft residents. The adapted Makaton language program has been effectively used with individuals who have cognitive impairments, such as autism, Down’s Syndrome, specific language impairments, multisensory impairments and acquire
d neurological disorders that have negatively affected the ability to communicate, including stroke patients. Adapted Makaton relies more on signs and lip syncing than it does on verbalization.
I didn’t see Private Salter for a while, the beating he had been given along with the Pack Run put him out of commission for a while. Adag had allowed for him to be put into one of the spare rooms near to the TOR so that the medic could tend to both men at the same time.
To say Wolf was angry about what had happened was an understatement, of course none of the soldiers would say who had kicked the shit out of Salter and he refused to name his attacker. He kept insisting he had fallen over during the pack run, which of course Wolf knew was a load of shit.
One unexpected thing did come out of the foraging incident. The following day Gregory’s grave had a weatherworn empty ammo box at the head of it and all our ‘gifts’ had been placed into the box and more pink blossoms placed added. No one came forward to say they had done it.
Mitch went and got a pot of white pain from his garage and painted Gregory’s name on it and whilst it was drying Cassidy, Stevie, and the girls decided to stick seashells on it as the last trip Gregory had taken them on was to Bognor Regis.
I realised that as long as every one of the group with learning disabilities had tasks to do they didn’t ask too many questions, even about Shannon and Gregory. With regard to their families, they were given a simple explanation that there was a problem with the telephone lines and the satellite dish and it would be a while before we could contact people on the outside of the home.
I had told them this whilst Stevie was with Paul in the garden taking in the sun, although Stevie had kept his promise about saying nothing to the others about Gregory’s horrific transformation, I couldn’t rely on him not to say something that could cause distress, however unintentional.
Eden and Jasmine grumbled that they would miss their favourite shows on TV, but Seb cheered them up by saying they would record and when the satellite dish came back on line, they would be able to do a catch-up. A blatant lie, but one that was accepted.
On the night before the third day of the quarantine, Wolf made a request of us. Would we mind spend the afternoon in the woods with two of his men, he was aware that we didn’t need to go looking for wild food on that day, but he would be grateful if we did so.
He put the request to Adag who then put it to Mitch, me and Seb in her flat, which was now our base of operation as Wolf was using the home’s office when he wasn’t in the Conference billet or the green canvas tent in the grounds.
“Why?” Seb had asked.
I was thinking of the bitten man in TOR Space, and I suspected it had to do with him and I said as much.
“We can’t really refuse,” Adag said briskly, “But Paul is really unwell, I’ll sedate him, he’s in a lot of pain, Phoenix won’t want to come with us, but he likes to stay in his room anyway, he’s not a fan of the soldiers, understandable really.”
Wolf had no problem with Paul and Phoenix staying in their rooms, especially as he was told they would be sedated. He assumed that Phoenix would be sedated as well; we didn’t disabuse him of this notion.
The two soldiers who came to the woods with us were Corporal Peters and the one whose life I had saved; Private Jasper his name was. His neck was bandaged; he was still a bit pale, but he was able to do scouting duty with Corporal Peters.
We took a picnic. To my surprise, Wolf gave us some army rations, which included chocolate, much to everyone’s delight.
Initially we spent a pleasant if somewhat surreal afternoon in the woods, with picnic blankets on the ground next to the stream and a wild garlic field.
Adag and Mitch bought foldable chairs for her, Mitch and me whilst everyone else sat on the blankets, other than Seb who was firmly ensconced in Lewis who had no problem moving over the grass, leaves and mud. Jasmine and Eden kept out of his way, they had learned their lesson from the last time.
The soldiers, with rifles in their hands moved around, scouting the area, but there were no Twice Dead to deal with, just the sound of birds, running water and the breeze gently pushing the leaves on the many trees that shaded us from the warmth of the sun.
We found a nice place to put down the blankets in a clearing surrounded by trees, a small stream and of course what Buckrams was famous for, a shit load of wild garlic and bluebells.
Mitch set the baskets of food down on the ground. Even though we needed to be careful with the supplies we had, Adag and I made the decision that it would be a proper picnic and sandwiches were made with long life wraps filled generously from two blocks of catering cheese, and of course crisps, fruit and cans of fizzy drink. I opted for a flask of tea as did, Adag, and Mitch.
Cassidy had bought his PSP with him and was playing his favourite game on it, his eyes glued to the screen as the animated cars and people scattered about doing his bidding.
Stevie was sitting with the girls and making daisy chains, there were so many daisies to pick and they were happy to sit there and create a long white and yellow chain that they wanted to drape over Seb’s chair.
He of course told them to get lost, he was reading a book, a thriller, he wasn’t too keen on books about Zombie’s anymore he told me. Understandable.
Mitch sat in his chair and closed his eyes, dozing, not saying anything and Adag to my surprise produced a knitting bag. She was making a jumper. It was powder blue; the wool was delicate to the touch, and very fine.
“It’s for my daughter,” she said to me as her needles clicked away in a steady rhythm, “I might as well finish it.”
I sat for a while, I had also bought a book with me, but I couldn’t concentrate. I got up and limped over to the stream, there was an overturned log I could sit on and stare into the stream, which is what I did.
Eventually it was time to eat and we set the picnic out. Impulsively I called the soldiers over to join us, they were standing by a large oak tree, looking around, bored I could tell, not surprising, they hesitated at first, then slung their rifles over their shoulders and joined us.
“I never got to thank you,” Private Jasper accepted a tin cup of tea off me, along with a cheese wrap and an apple.
I nodded my head.
“What’s your name?” Eden asked the young soldier. He told her. She stared at him and then held out a daisy chain bracelet to him.
Surprised he took it, Jasmine did the same for Corporal Peters, who looked embarrassed, but he accepted it.
Everyone exclaimed in delight when I produced the thick bars of chocolate that Wolf had given us. One for each person.
Cassidy snatched his from my hands and I gave him a steely look and his face reddened, “Sorry Lucy,” he mumbled and he hung his head.
“You know I always give you, your fair share Cass,” I said. He looked up at me and nodded his head. I smiled at him and he beamed back and happily opened his treat.
I don’t like chocolate, but I didn’t say this, I put mine to one side. Jasmine popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth and said to Corporal Peters “Do you have a girlfriend?”
Corporal Peters blinked, Seb laughed, “Welcome to our world Corporal Peters,” the soldier looked bewildered, but he answered Jasmine’s question.
“No,” he said, “I don’t.”
“OK,” she said and she turned to Eden “Let’s get more daises.” The two girls scrambled up from the blanket and hurried over to a large patch of white and yellow flowers and began to carefully pick them.
Corporal Peters and Private Jasper looked at each other and Adag spoke as her needles clicked steadily, the wool in the bag moving slowly upwards into the sleeve she was working on, “They have Learning Disabilities, they don’t think like you do, they never will, and yes they are different.”
Private Jasper looked at me and frowned, “Do you have learning disabilities?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
“She’s a cripple like me,” Seb spoke and he laughed, “But we ha
ve all our conkers, they don’t,” He nodded toward the others.
Stevie who was eating his chocolate looked up and said, “What are conkers?”
I explained to him to him what they were. He frowned, looked at Seb and said, “You’re stupid.”
“He’s got a point there,” Mitch spoke Seb could respond, “You might have all your conkers Seb, but you don’t always use them the way you should.”
I laughed and Seb gave me a dirty look.
“What about the others?” Private Jasper said curiously, “The other boy in the wheelchair, and the one whose computer we took away? Do they have learning disabilities?”
“They have something called Asperger’s Syndrome,” Adag spoke again, “It makes them very clever in certain things, but not in others and they are often socially inept, some don’t understand emotions the way we do, it’s a complex disability, because some do have learning disabilities, it’s known as Autism as well, you have probably heard of that.”
They had because they both nodded their heads.
“How’s Private Salter?” I asked. The two soldiers wouldn’t meet my eye, they shifted uncomfortably but they couldn’t ignore my question.
“OK,” Corporal Peters was the one who finally spoke, “He was never good at the pack-run.”
I snorted, “Is that what you call it when someone beats the living shit out of someone and almost kills them? That’s a new one on me.”
Corporal Peters and Private Jasper said nothing, well what could they say?
“I like how you speak,” Before the silence could become embarrassing, Jasmine trotted back to blanket with her daisies. She sat down and smiled at Corporal Peters, “You sound different to us.”
“He’s a Yank,” Seb said.
“Yank?” Jasmine looked puzzled.
“We’re from America,” Corporal Peters explained glad for the subject to be changed.
The Abandoned Trilogy (Book 1): Twice Dead (Contagion) Page 13
