by Nathan Ward
Chapter 11: No Second Chances
The body of the victim remained impaled against the wall, blood still oozing from the fractured skull, running down the deformed face and dripping into the ever expanding puddle of crimson. Joy hadn’t noticed the blood seeping underneath her, she had remained frozen to the spot, her jaw wide open and eyes widened in shock - she had never been in such a position of vulnerability before - at least, never showed it, and this had delightfully pleased the Captain who stood mercilessly in the shadows watching the scene unfold just as his intuition had expected it to play out. Another fragment of the mutilated prisoners’ skull suddenly dropped into the puddle of crimson, followed by a flurry of blood and brain matter that gushed from the new opening that had been exposed by the falling bone.
The Captain had seen enough, moving out of the shadows stomping through the crimson puddles and grasping on to his javelin, he yanked it out of the wall and through the head of his victim, it slid out audibly as it connected with bone and then came free, allowing the body to fall to the ground in release; it fell with a thud into a broken, bloody mass.
“None of this had to happen, Joy. None of this!” he reminded her.
Then the captain, who had reached back into his pocket and pulled out a cloth. He began to clean up the deep red shining stains dripping down the javelin and added, “If you did the right thing, your sex offending friend would be alive right now!”
Then he continued to rub away at the metal pole, slowly revealing a stainless steel shine as the crimson soaked away into the cotton cloth.
“I will help you,” She replied as her wet crimson stained face still dripped as she looked up at him.
“Well I knew something had to work, but you see – I was never going to allow these people to live. They would never be welcome here nor anywhere…” the Captain told her.
“We’ve all done wrongs...crazy, mad wrongs but no one deserves to die!” Joy said in desperation, fearing what might happen next, how far he would go as her sights shifted to the body on the floor where brain matter was spilled into a bloody puddle, and then she looked back to the Captain once more.
“No one!” she repeated, “Not one person more deserves to die!”
“THEY DESERVE TO WALK THE PLAINS OF HELL!” the Captain raged as fury shone in his eyes.
“Then let them, drop the drawbridge, send them on their way…”Responded Joy, hoping to convince the Captain of any different outcome other than death. They had committed an act unworthy of respect but if they could be redeemed in anyway she knew they would act upon it, if given a second chance.
But the Captain didn’t seem to be the kind of man to allow for making room for redemption forgiveness or any kind of second chances in life, he was just that sort of man, even though he had given Joy many chances to rethink her choices - but that was more than likely due to the fact his wife was laid up on a medical stretcher in desperate need of assistance. Joy was the only medically trained person they had come across since the fortress was overrun.
The Captain stared at the tip of his spear, watching the mesmerizing point as it gleamed as if given a fresh new lease of life.
“This isn’t about them, it’s about you,” he replied, “This one,” he added, indicating to the dead man on the floor, “Lost his rights the moment he fucked one of our young, he had a choice. We always have a choice in all matters – and I’m glad you have finally made the correct one, Joy. I’m thrilled.”
The Captain pulled back the javelin and swung it with force across the neck of the second prisoner, slicing a deep gauge along his throat, opening flesh from ear to ear and slicing the carotid artery, releasing a spurt of blood that soon turned into a torrential waterfall of crimson. The prisoner gasped and choked and gurgled, his eyes wide with terror, wide eyes set in a face rapidly draining of all shade of life, then the hands he desperately held at the open gash flopped downwards as his head slumped, followed by his body until it hung forward like a puppet with cut strings, devoid of all life.
“I guess there’s no point wasting time...” said the Captain as he moved along to the end of the line, where the final young male prisoner was held captive.
“Assault, knocking another child unconscious for no apparent reason will always be considered a crime, do you understand?” asked the Captain, talking down to the young boy who shook in fear at the sight of the tall figure leaning over him.
“He… he…” stuttered the young boy.
“He… called me names!” confirmed the boy, still quivering in his piss ridden boots.
“He called you names?” replied the Captain in a voice laced with sarcasm, “Awww, now trust me boy, you should be glad that’s all he did…” and then he began to raise the crimson tipped javelin.
“IS THIS WHAT YOU DID TO THEM?” Joy yelled from across the pit, “Is this what you did, you killed them all?”
The Captain turned to look across at Joy, lowering the javelin to his side as he took a step towards her.
“The UNA?”he replied.
“Yes…Once we tore apart the commanding officer and shattered his mechanical skull, you took the soldiers…” Joy stated with confidence, having knowledge of the battle, having fought in it and lived through it.
“The ones who wouldn’t switch allegiance, we loaded them in to the back of as many carriers we could lay our hands on and we drove them away… why do you ask, why now?” he said.
“Because it’s not the first time you’ve taken an innocent life!”
“They would have tried to kill us all, they were being manipulated by the UNA hive mind. It was the only way, I gave them TWO chances to come fight for us… and two was one too many.”
Joy thought deeply on the workings of the Captain's mind, hoping to find a way to trigger some kind of realization that killing the young boy was a big mistake:
Why couldn't he see that this was wrong?
That thought burned brightly in her mind as Joy held on to a last glimmer of hope that he would spare the life of the innocent child.
“What happened next?” she asked, and the question was purely to distract him from thoughts of handing out another execution.
“We drove them away, to the nearest cliff edge. We lined all thirty one of them along it and we asked: Does anyone want to reconsider?”
“And did any of them reconsider?” Joy asked, now a distraction had become something else entirely as she felt intrigued to know the outcome.
“Like fuck did they, some began to run at us so we put them out of their misery. The others… we tossed over the cliff, there wasn’t a chance they would survive that fall, but in my eyes it was the only way of securing safety among us.”
The Captain looked down at his feet, lost in reflection on a thought that had allowed for sins to cloud his mind, it reminded of a great discomfort he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“You’re going to kill a child, Jordan? Because he stood up for himself, after being bullied by a weaker member of our community? Can you honestly live with that?”
Joy asked, knowing she had begun to break down the Captain's barriers.
“I could,” replied the Captain, still glaring down at his boots that stood in the crimson pool swirling around the ground of the dungeon. There was now so much blood on the floor that the whole place was starting to stink up like an abattoir, the stench of the blood even covering the formerly pungent odor of human waste.
“Then…. Just get it over with!” Joy said bitterly, looking to the Captain in disbelief.
But then a crackle of static begun to emit from a small radio clipped on to Captain Jordan’s lapel, he raised his hand and pressed down a switch establishing a communication link.
“Go ahead.”
The static continued to screech until a voice began to materialize from the other end.
“We have a problem here, Captain – over,” the unknown voice said.
“I’ll meet you up top in a moment, Jordan over and out.”
; The captain released the switch and lowered his arm in to a resting position, still with the javelin tightly grasped in the other hand.
“I have to attend to something, I will have some fresh water and food sent down, and Joy, I’m sorry for the discomfort I’ve caused.” The Captain abruptly walked over to the foot of the stairwell and began to climb the tall segmented slabs.
“Thank you…” Joy said as sweet relief flooded through her, not knowing if the Captain had heard her over the sound of his heavy, soggy boots squelching on the stone surface as he rose to the mouth of the dungeon, emerging in to the flame lit corridor.
Captain Jordan marched his way down the long, solid concrete path leaving the tender flames in a flurry as the breeze of his advancing movement swept by the blazing torches. As he travelled down the corridor he began to unscrew his javelin and return the two segments into his thigh pockets, freeing up both of his hands.
He had neared the archway at the end of the path that led straight up to the second level when suddenly a weakened figure staggered out from behind a wall and fell in to the Captains’ arms, he came to a sharp halt holding on to the slender body, it was a female for certain. He raised his hand and pulled aside the thin white cotton veil that covered her face - which revealed the soft, beautiful skin of his wounded wife.
“Alana!? What are you doing out of bed!?” Jordan exclaimed as his mind flooded with concern.
His wife just looked up in to his deep brown eyes that had begun to sparkle in the light that was shining down the staircase in front of them.
“I heard the radios, I wanted to see you…” she replied weakly.
“You’re in no fit state to walk around, just think what could have happened if you fell!”
“I’m okay, please… don’t worry, my handsome man,” she replied, reaching up and placing her tender touch upon the cheek of her husband, then for a fragment of time all of their worries just disappeared. They were transfixed inside that moment, a bubble of enduring love.
“I’m always worrying, Alana. You need urgent medical treatment…” replied Jordan, lowering his right hand underneath his wife’s dress and pulling aside the silk, unveiling an infected raw flesh wound protruding through the side of her stomach, oozing with pus and thick crimson. The wound had even begun to leave a foul stench, and Jordan knew the longer it was left untreated, the less of a chance of a future they would have and he was forever reminded of it by every passing thought.
“She has agreed to do it, to offer us medical assistance” he assured her in a tone of pure relief. But his wife's eyes widened as she drew in a weak breath and began to protest.
“You… you can’t let her, I can’t let her, and I will NOT allow her to be near me!”
“She will not harm you, I promise you. She wouldn’t dare double cross me again,”
Jordan reassured her.
“You don’t know who she is!”
“I know fear, when I see it. This is a decision I’m willing to make - otherwise it’s a matter of fact that I will lose you forever.”
Jordan continued to look deep in to the crystal blue eyes of his wife as she looked on in apparent fear of what he was saying. He then spoke again, spelling it out as he hoped the message would finally get through to her that Joy was their only hope:
“She is our last hope; you have to trust me, my love...”
A soldier began to emerge from the upper level, descending down the stone stair case; Jordan switched his gaze over to the archway to greet his fellow comrade.
“Could you do be a huge favor, brother?” Jordan asked.
“Certainly sir,” the Soldier replied.
“Can you assist my wife back to her quarters and fetch some fresh water and food for the prisoners in the dungeon?”
“Consider it done already,” he replied.
“Very good, soldier.”
Jordan turned to his wife, slowly letting go of her so she could stand back on her own two feet.
“I’ll be back shortly,” he promised, before taking her in at the waist and planting a long, drawn out kiss on to her pale tender lips, as she responded weakly he closed his eyes, savoring the moment and silently hoping this would not be their last kiss. Every moment counted now, she was weakening rapidly. Then he slowly released her from his powerful but careful grip and left her with the soldier assigned to her care, then he walked away ascended in to the light of day.
Alana slowly turned her head in a weak, almost dream-like movement, but the glare in her eyes was full of defiance, the kind of defiance that could only come from one determined to cling to life. Her glare was directed at the soldier who was stood to attention welding his rapid fire assault rifle with ease, his dark tinted visor covered his face - but Alana knew he would be cowering inside the helmet.
“You will not be taking me to my quarters…” Alana stated sharply.
“As you command,” responded the soldier.
“We will both be paying a visit to the Dungeon, do you understand?”She said.
“Understood, Ma’am.”
“Good,” she replied, “Then let us proceed.”
She turned and began to limp her way down the stone corridor to the place where the orange glow of the blazing flames was visible, illuminating like spectral light. Her bare feet padded soundlessly along the concrete, followed by the thud of the heavy military boots of her bodyguard as they went on, advancing towards the mouth of the dungeon that waited patiently in Alana’s sights.
Chapter 12: Good and Evil
Joy had started to clean herself up, using any clean patch of rag she could find and holding it against the cold back wall, hoping it would catch a drop of the fresh water that had seemed to of stopped leaking through. She took the partially damp rags to her face, wiping away the blood that had begun to dry dark and stiffly.
As she scrubbed vigorously at her cheeks and forehead she peered over at the little boy who had curled up and wrapped his arms around his legs to protect himself.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she continued to scrub away at the dried blood on her face, “Connor? It’s me, Joy. Remember?”
But there was no response, Joy could understand that he wasn’t in the best of places and so decided to leave him be for the time being and focus on cleansing her blood stained skin. As she scrubbed a train of thought ran through her mind that she didn't care to share aloud:
'I hope he’ll be okay. No child should ever have to see or hear something like that, not ever. Gave me a bit of a fright and I consider myself pretty tough...If it scared me, what the hell did it do to that little boy?'
Joy held that thought as she spat on to the rag in her right hand, dampening it with what little saliva she could produce. She had become extremely dehydrated due to not being fed or watered for four long days and her mouth had begun to dry up.
'I could kill for a shower right now; I’d even take a cold one!' she thought, as images of pure luxury crossed her mind, and then she looked again at the scared child.
“I bet I know what you’d love right now, Connor. A nice warm shower to wash away the dirt, some smart new clothes and a portion of chips? What you say?”
she asked, trying to convince Connor to talk, just so that she could be assured he really was okay.
Connor raised his head ever so slightly so he could fit his eye against a little gap between his leg and arm, he began to peer through checking over Joy, trying his hardest not to look at the bloody mess that lay beside him.
“We used to love a cone of chips off the Market, me and my girl,” said Joy as she continued to raise memories of her past to the front of her mind, “Did you have a favorite meal, Connor?” Joy asked him, still scrubbing around her neck but keeping a subtle eye on Connor who had again moved a fraction to get a better view of Joy – and she had noticed.
“Let me guess...I bet you love chicken burgers!”
“Cod,” Connor murmured
“What was that?” Joy asked in surprise stopping her f
rantic rubbing motion to transfer her full attention to the boy as her hopes rose that finally, she had managed to reach him.
“I would have Cod and chips,” Connor replied, speaking a little louder so he could be heard clearly.
“Mmmm yummy! Good choice!” Replied Joy, raising her rag back to her face to wipe away the remainder of the dried blood, and now knowing that child was coming out of his shock, raised her spirits so much that even cleaning dried blood from her face didn't seem like such a sickening task.
'This is turning in to a right chore,' she thought to herself, taking one final scrub. Then she turned to Connor.
“That’ll have to do, how do I look?” Joy asked, noticing in the corner of her eye that a mass of shadows were nearing the mouth of the stairwell. The sound of the soldiers boots became louder as they neared, and once again fear reflected in the boys eyes.
“Don’t be scared, Connor. Lie on your side, try not to move. They won’t hurt you I promise!”
She had spoken like she meant it, but that was a promise she was uncertain she could keep while she remained chained to the wall. Connor cowered away, tucking himself up and leaning against the wall as far out of sight as the chains would allow him to reach.
The footsteps became louder and louder until they were directly above them, Joy could still see the shadows fluttering around the entrance to the dungeon and then finally they had reached the opening. The thick black boot of one of the soldiers took its first step down on to the stone slab followed by the nimble foot of Alana. The Soldier made his way down the staircase backwards, holding on to the hand of the captains’ wife making sure she safely and slowly made her way down each stone slab until they reached the bottom of the pit.
As Joy watched Alana regain her balance, she silently wondered why she was here:
This was a filthy dungeon. Did they really expect a medic to work in these conditions?
Now Alana had steadied herself, she looked intently at her, and Joy locked with that gaze as she spoke up and gave her a reminder.
