The Abandoned Trilogy (Book 1): Twice Dead (Contagion)

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The Abandoned Trilogy (Book 1): Twice Dead (Contagion) Page 37

by Suchitra Chatterjee


  Why on earth had Private Charles done that? It didn’t make any sense. Why had she sacrificed her life for a mere child? She had no need to do that, Zimmerman was safe in one of the outgoing trucks, he was what they had come for. His sister was safe, along with two of her three grandchildren, the New World Succession had all the leverage they needed to keep Zimmerman under their control and make him do what they wanted.

  “Nothing is ever what it seems,” Rachel said and then added, “And nothing is as cut and dried as we might think it is.”

  “She might have saved him,” I said, “But she was more than happy to let everyone in Thorncroft die, that didn’t cause her any lost sleep.”

  Rachel nodded her head, “I know, but even monsters, can care about certain things in their lives, history is littered with people of that ilk.”

  I couldn’t deny her words. Rachel moved to where her grandchildren were, calling their names. She sounded weary, no wonder, she was related to a man who was involved in mass murder on a breathtaking scale, but it wasn’t her fault. She was innocent as were the children. Being angry at her and three young children was wrong and I knew it.

  “You need to sit down,” Nat said. I shook my head. Stevie appeared at that moment, Karma panting at his side, telling me Phoenix was on the coach with his computer, ignoring everyone as usual and that Salter and Private Jasper were there too.

  I walked away from the coach, heading to where a clump of trees lay uprooted, near to a large thatch of shrubbery that eventually slid down a steep embankment into part of the river we had not so long ago been doused liberally with. The tree trunk I sat on had fallen to the ground long ago, the bark was old and moss covered and it had partly sunk into the ground.

  I let my eyes scan the landscape behind us. Natural beauty surrounded us, green belt land that would now truly turn back to nature. What man had made would fall into decay, it would melt away over time and become part of Mother Nature’s plan for the planet. Maybe that was not a bad thing I thought. We sure as hell didn't deserve her.

  The hand that clamped over my mouth was strong, it crushed my jaw and then I was being pulled backwards off the tree trunk, and into the springy bushes away from the drop down embankment.

  Twigs and leaves scraped over my face, I felt the sting of my hair catching in the bushes and being pulled out. I clawed at the hand with my fingers struggling against whoever or whatever had hold of me and then I felt the cold nub of a gun against the side of my head and Duke’s voice soft in my ear, “I could have shot any of you, not very clever letting your guard down like that,” I tasted blood, not my own, Duke’s, his wrists were a mess, torn and still bleeding though he had bandaged them up as best he could.

  He had got out of two sets of plastic handcuffs, he knew his stuff, more than perhaps we had realised. The initial shock of being dragged into the bushes wore off quickly. I licked my lips, I tasted more blood. Why wasn’t I afraid? I should have been terrified, but I wasn’t. I felt nothing at all. Duke gripped my jaw tightly, “The Colonel should have realised I wouldn’t just carry one gun, you always have to be prepared.”

  Why hadn’t he shot anyone yet? He had ample chance if he had been hiding in this undergrowth for a while. He had a gun yes, I thought and then it hit me. He didn’t have any ammunition for it, other than the clip that was in it.

  It also wasn’t an army regulation gun, it was smaller, a back-up just in case he needed it. My mind was working overtime, he also didn’t have a full magazine, he probably had to use the Glock when he was legging it from the Twice Dead, but he still had some bullets, not enough to do what he obviously wanted to do.

  He wasn’t aware I had a gun in my bag, and several magazines, he had seen me with my sword, but he had no idea that Wolf had given me a Glock.

  “Make any noise,” he whispered in my ear, “And I will start shooting your friends,” He had nothing to lose, but what he didn’t yet comprehend was that neither did I. He moved his hand from my mouth, pressed the gun nub harder into my temple and in the semi-darkness of the shrubbery said softly, “Aren’t you going to tell me I don’t stand a chance?”

  Our eyes met as I looked up at him and I said calmly and equally as softly, “No,” The bushes he had pulled me into were growing wild around several large trees that sloped steadily down the embankment. There was a natural hollow behind the bushes before they met the bark of the trees; we were lying on dirt and bracken, light filtered in from high above, there was a smell of ancient dried leaves that had rotted over the centuries and returned to the earth, a continual recycling of the planet, untouched by man.

  The bushes had sprung back into place when he had dragged me in, I could make out pricks of light through the thick foliage, but it was not dark because as tall as the bushes were, they had not grown over themselves and light flooded in from high above.

  I could hear and see birds flying above, there was a hum of life in the air. Not human life, nature. Shadows passed over us from above, wings that floated on the air currents, a life above, but so little life below.

  “You’re a lot like him,” Duke said as he pushed me onto my back and pressed down on me, his face so close to mine I could smell his breath, “A lot like him.”

  A lot like who? The Colonel? That was debatable.

  “He had no idea you existed,” I frowned, what was Duke talking about, “Your Uncle, your mother’s brother,” I stared up at Duke, not really taking in what he was saying, my mother’s brother? Who the hell was my mother’s brother?

  “How does it feel to be related to one of the architects of the New World Succession,” he said with a soft laugh, “General James Bowes-Lyon, a member of the British aristocracy, royalty no less, as well as being the highest ranking officer alive in this country, you might hate and detest Zimmerman, but he is nothing compared to the General, nothing at all.”

  My mother’s maiden name had been Bowes-Lyon. Social Workers occasionally mentioned that my mother’s maiden name had been the same as the Queen’s mother. That hadn’t imbued me with any kind of pride I can tell you, mainly because I had watched the documentary The Queen’s Hidden Cousins on YouTube.

  Despite Duke’s revelation, it meant nothing to me, other than momentary surprise, followed by disgust that my blood was soiled with blood of people who had turned their back on their own children just because they were disabled. Just as they had done to me.

  So I was genetically related to a man who was as bad if not worse than Zimmerman. I didn’t know him; he didn’t know me. Our only connection was a woman who had been dead for many years. My mother.

  “If you’re going to kill me can you please get it over and done with, I’m very tired,” Duke pressed the Glock muzzle harder into my head, but I didn’t move or flinch.

  “Do it,” I said. We stared at each other, my body was limp under his.

  “Strength,” he murmured, “So much strength, just like him,” He moved the gun from my head, I didn’t know what he was going to do, and I didn’t much care. He was distracted by my reaction to his revelation along with my indifference to him blowing my head off. He didn’t know how much mental pain I was in right then because it was bottled up inside of me, just below the surface, not quite ready to explode or in my case implode.

  “I had a feeling the Colonel wouldn’t insist on you all being inoculated by the Lieutenant when we left, he’s been questioning a lot of things of late, more since he met you, a lot more, you were his catalyst, but then you are unique.”

  I moved my head so that we were looking each other, he wasn’t aware that Paul was dead, he had been long gone from the Ridge by then, “Paul won’t turn,” I whispered, I knew right then how to break his icy demeanour, “Your contingency plan didn’t work, the phials are safe in my room, and you know what that means? Zimmerman can create an inoculation for us, for the children who will be born in the next nine months’ time, you screwed up Duke, you got bested by a bunch of cripples and retards, the same cripples and retards who are
going to bring down your New World Succession, your chosen elite won’t be the elite for much longer, that will be our legacy, how’s that for the ultimate in irony? A Bowes-Lyon defeated by a Bowes-Lyon?”

  He would have shot me right then, I saw it in his eyes, and I will him to do it.

  “Son of a bitch!” what happened next is still a bit of a blur. Duke was suddenly no longer on top of me, he shot off of my body like someone had greased him from head to toe then pushed him down a flat slide. He was dragged hard and fast from under the bushes where we both lay.

  It was so rapid, he let go of his gun, it slipped from his hand, he tried to grab it as he slid, but I rolled to one side, hard and fast, my body stopping him from reaching the handle, he swore, I felt his fingers grab one of my ankles, he intended for me to be pulled out with him, but he had grabbed the ankle that had the leg brace on it, as I was now on my side, my good leg was free and I hit him hard in the mouth with the heel of my boot. I saw a flash of red, a grunt of pain and I began to roll, tumbling my way out of the bushes, my fingers grasping the gun as I did.

  I was suddenly in the sunlight, all around me were soldiers, I caught a glimpse of Stevie, I heard shouting, dogs barking, swearing. I was momentarily dizzy, I felt hands under my arm pits, it was Nat, hoisting me to my feet, he was shouting something, but I was looking for Duke.

  Rodriquez and the soldier I now knew as Bryson had pulled Duke from out of the bushes, I remember wondering how they knew where we were and what to do?

  Duke wasn’t going to be taken that easily. Even my kick to his mouth had not incapacitated him. What we didn’t know at that moment was that he had specialist fighting skills and he used them to good effect. He sent Bryson flying backwards and then he had Rodriquez in a headlock.

  He was going to break his neck I thought! He was going to kill him! The world slowed down again for me, I found myself evaluating everything in nano-seconds.

  “Drop!” I screamed suddenly, “Drop!”

  Rodriquez body suddenly went limp, his muscles relaxed and he became almost boneless, just as he had done during the Twice Dead battle and he was under attack and Stevie had saved him. Duke wasn’t expecting this. He tried to yank on Rodriquez neck, but he had hesitated a second too long.

  The crack as the cricket bat hit the side of his head was satisfying in ways I cannot even begin to describe. Stevie is not very tall, most of the soldiers, including Rodriquez are over six foot-tall so he was never in Duke’s line of sight.

  The blow sent Duke spinning, though he didn’t go down, at least not right then. I saw an explosion of blood, and teeth, I think one of his eyes popped partially out of its socket, and I felt my arm rising upwards, the gun in my hand aimed and I fired. I caught him in the shoulder and he spun again, this time going down onto one knee.

  “That’s for Adag and Paul,” I whispered and then my hand dropped and the gun was limp at my side. I felt Nat’s arm move protectively around my chest and for the moment I leaned against him, glad of his presence.

  Bryson had got up from where he had been sent flying, and through burning eyes I saw all the surviving soldiers move purposefully toward the wounded man. Bryson booted him in the side of the head. More teeth and blood exploded from his ruined mouth. His body slammed to the ground, he struggled to get up, moving feebly, I saw Wolf watching, he didn’t try and stop it, he just watched.

  “Don’t,” I heard myself shout, “Please, don’t…” Yes, I had shot Duke, but I hadn’t killed him. I could have aimed for his head, but I hadn’t. I wanted to hurt him, but killing him would not bring back Adag and Paul. It would not resurrect Gregory, it wouldn’t give any of the residents of Thorncroft or the soldiers their families back and it wouldn’t change the fact that I was related to one of the people who was part of the mess we were all in now.

  The men stopped, they looked at me and I heard myself say, “We can’t become like them, we just can’t.”

  “I can,” Bryson said savagely and he kicked out at Duke’s face again, but the blow never landed because Stevie, grabbed his arm and pulled hard.

  “No, Lucy said no,” he said, his voice quiet, but was heard by everyone in the clearing and then he added, “No, you are a good man.”

  Bryson went still. Stevie’s words reverberated through the stillness of the day.

  “Fuck,” I heard someone say.

  Bryson nodded his head and stepped back and Stevie let go of his arm.

  Wolf moved from where he had been standing, he stood over the bloody and broken body of one of his former men, “Your precious New World Succession used you the same way they used us,” he said, “Lieutenant Barnes, tend to this piece of shit please,” he then turned to Bryson, “Private Bryson, please escort Lucia to the coach, stay with her, don’t let her out of your sight.”

  My head shot up and Wolf met my gaze head on, “If you argue with me,” he said, “I will have you sedated, understand?”

  What could I say? I gave him a malevolent look, but limped off with Private Bryson, followed by an anxious Stevie who sensed something was not quite right with me, but didn’t understand what it was.

  Zimmerman was heavily sedated. They had lain him out in part of the space normally used for Seb’s wheelchairs. He was lying on what had once been a large thick piece of grubby, but soft rubber matting that Mitch always kept in the boot of the coach in order to cushion the manual wheelchairs he used to put into the boot. There also several wheelchair cushions that he had never got around to moving and so a kind of bed had been made for Zimmerman and he was covered with equally grubby old blankets, once again used in the past to keep the wheelchairs from banging into each other during a trip. A folded up coat served as a pillow for his head.

  Zimmerman’s sister Rachel was sitting on one of the coach seats looking down at him. She turned when she heard the clump of my feet on the steps. We looked at each other, but I said nothing.

  Bryson made me sit down on one of the seats and he sat opposite me. I hurt all over. Stevie had followed us onto the coach.

  “Where is everyone?” I said to him and I peered out of the window behind me, “Where’s Phoenix? Salter, I didn’t see him, is he OK?”

  “Phoenix is with Mitch,” Stevie said, “And the others, the Colonel made them all go into the Woods.”

  “How did you know that Duke was here?” I said suddenly, my question was directed at Bryson.

  He smiled faintly, “Your Bee-in-the-SKY,” he said.

  “Phoenix saw everything,” Wolf’s voice, he had stepped quietly onto the coach and Bryson swiftly stood up, he was still a soldier, “He told me.”

  The humming noise above us, of course, I had just assumed it was the birds, luckily so had Duke.

  “Private Bryson ensure that the others are bought back here from the woods, we will have to set up camp here for tonight, in the morning we will sort out how we can all get back to Thorncroft.”

  “Yes Sir,” the soldier swiftly left the coach. Wolf glanced at Rachel. Stevie hovered nearby.

  “Stevie,” Wolf said, “Can you tell Private Rodriquez to choose two men to guard Duke, and then get Lieutenant Barnes to come in here, then tell Mitch to do a weapons count and we need fires to be made up and all food we have to be accounted for, get the girls and children to do that please.”

  Stevie nodded his head. He threw me a worried look then left the coach.

  “Lucia,” Wolf said, but I wouldn’t look at him, instead I stared out of the window. He didn’t speak again until Nat got on the coach. I made myself watch the hub of activity that was soon going on outside the coach.

  I saw Corporal Peters, Salter and Private Jasper appear with the others. Phoenix clutching his computer, walking with Mitch. Jack and Russell were scampering about, Dov and Seth were chasing them, they were laughing. Children are surprisingly resilient I thought, more than us adults.

  Jasmine was carrying baby Poppy in her arms, with Cassidy hovering protectively beside her. Eden was talking to Gabe who had
Karma on his leash. He was holding Percy’s hand.

  I saw Stevie approach Jasmine and Eden and speak to them. I pressed my face against the coolness of the window. There were flashes of green as soldiers moved back and forth.

  Salter was looking around, he was trying to locate me, he spoke to a passing female soldier and she pointed to the coach. He started to walk toward it but Private Jasper caught hold of his good arm and said something. Salter looked at the coach, and then nodded his head. He looked worried. I was glad that they were all OK. That was something good if nothing else.

  We were exposed out here, but there was nothing we could do about that. At least to the back of us was a sheer drop down to the river and beyond. Order out of chaos was being made.

  A hand on my leg made me jerk and pull away. It was Nat. His concerned eyes were inspecting me quizzically. Wolf had left the coach. I was glad. I frowned. Why was I angry with him? He was only doing his job.

  “You look like shit,” Nat said candidly.

  “You don’t look that hot yourself,” I said dryly.

  “Is your head hurting?”

  It was. I shrugged my shoulders.

  “The Colonel wants me to sedate you,” he said.

  My eyes widened and I drew back further into the two seats I was occupying.

  “I won’t,” he said taking me by surprise, “If you promise to stay on the coach and try to sleep.”

  I didn’t want to sleep, I didn’t want to be on the coach, I just wanted to be on my own, curled up in a ball somewhere, hidden under a hedge never to be seen again.

  “How do you know I will keep my promise?” he sat patiently waiting for my answer, not hurrying me.

 

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