Safe Haven (Book 1): Rise of the Rams

by Christopher Artinian

  “Take me to the girls.” At first the figure, with his hands high in the air, illuminated only by the dropped torch and the car headlights, didn’t move, but when Joseph barked “Now!” he headed towards the garage.

  They got him to undo a padlock at the base of the door and Mike stood back to lift it. Lucy climbed into the driver’s seat and drove the car up to the garage. The lights shone in to reveal three terrified girls, tied together in the shape of a shamrock. Mike took the shotgun from Joseph, keeping an eye on the remaining gang member. “Go free your daughters, Joseph,” he said, gently placing his hand on the older man’s shoulders.

  Fear continued to pound in the hearts of the three captives. They had no idea what was going on. They didn’t know they were being rescued; they thought this was just more of the horror they had already suffered. The youngest girl began to cry again as a tall black silhouette approached them. He was talking, but his words were barely audible above the sounds outside and their own rushing blood. But as the man drew closer, two of the girls recognised a familiar voice.

  “Dad?” said the oldest, in disbelief. “Oh, Dad,” she said again, this time releasing floods of tears. She’d been told her family was dead, she’d seen her husband on the ground, and now, to hear her father’s voice, it was more than she could ever have hoped for.

  “Daddy? Is that Daddy?” Annie screamed. She was angled away from the door. All she could see was a shadow on the wall looming larger and larger as the figure got closer.

  “It’s Daddy, my sweethearts,” Joseph said, as he fell to his knees and stretched his arms around his two girls. He wanted to be strong for them, but he couldn’t control his own tears. “It’s your Daddy, darling. I’ve come to take you home.” All three began sobbing uncontrollably. The third young woman, a stranger, wept too, her ordeal over.

  Lucy sat in the car with the engine still running, sniffing, overcome with the emotion of the moment. Mike allowed himself to snatch a brief moment of levity and then looked back at the remaining gang member. Emotion bled away from his face.

  “Move. Now,” he said and gestured for the terrified teenager to start walking. He still had his hands raised as they walked around the back of the garage. Small splinters of light from the headlights and from the moon illuminated the narrow passage between the garage and the tall bushes enclosing the lawn.

  “Please,” the young man begged. Mike pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He really would have to find out how to use one of these things before long. He dropped the gun to the floor and the prisoner turned to fight, but Mike quickly removed his knife, stabbed it hard into the young man’s stomach, withdrew it and stuck it fiercely into his throat. Shock and gasping horror swept over the kidnapper’s face as he put both his hands up to his neck. He dropped forward on his knees and made a sound like the last slushy drops of a milkshake being sucked through a straw, before falling face down to the ground.

  When Mike came back round to the front of the garage, the captives had been released. Joseph’s daughters were still sobbing, clinging to him like limpets. The other young woman was unsteady on her feet and Lucy had climbed out of the Land Rover to help her. Mike suggested that Joseph should sit in the back with Beth and Annie for the return journey. The other young woman joined them. Lucy got into the driver’s seat.

  “There’s one more thing to take care of,” Mike said. “I just need to get something out of the back of the car and then you can take it down to the gate. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  Lucy looked in the mirror but couldn’t see what Mike was removing from the car. There was a muffled heavy thud and a clank. He signalled for her to move off. As she drove, she looked back. The red glow of the car’s lights did nothing to solve the mystery of what Mike had taken from the back of the car.

  He looked down at the wriggling pile in front of him. He had bound the two prisoners from the barn tightly together, back to back, legs to legs and feet to feet. Rope and duct tape sealed their joint fates. Their mouths were stuffed with portions of their own torn clothing and glued shut with more tape. They tried to shout, but the result was akin to the noise of a TV on low in a distant part of the house. Nobody could hear them. Mike picked up the jerrican he had brought with him, grabbed the knot around his prisoners’ feet and slowly dragged them into the garage. He picked up a torch that had been left on the ground. It was perfect; the garage was empty, the roof was high and it was made of cement, breeze block and little else. He tugged the two gang members into the middle of the floor and poured the remaining diesel over them. Both men were sobbing beneath their ropes and gags.

  Mike reflected on the day. He had done things that hadn’t sat well with him in the past. In the last twenty-four hours, he had taken the lives of three men. Not RAMs, but living, breathing men. Society demanded compassion, but society had ended. There were no more courts. There were no more prisons, so it was up to those who were left to right the wrongs and to exact justice. These two men deserved to die, but they deserved to suffer too. A bullet would be too quick for the evil they had done, so this was justice. They would burn and they would die and justice would be done.

  Mike walked to the front of the garage and lowered the garage door just a little, took the box of matches from his back pocket, removed three, struck them and tossed them towards the diesel-soaked mound. He was further back than before, but still the whoosh of the flames took him by surprise. The screams were barely audible beneath the gags, and the tight ropes allowed little in the way of writhing, but Mike watched as flames engulfed the bodies and the plastic of the duct tape fused to their skin.

  “Fuckers!” He spat towards the flames as he pulled down the door and clicked the padlock back into place. Mike ran back down to the gate, opened it up, let Lucy drive through, closed it safely behind them and off they went, back to Mead Hall Farm.

  *

  By the time the former captives were being tucked into the safety of their own beds along with Tracey, the young woman they had been bound with, it was 4am. Lucy and Samantha had tended to them as best they could, and all three had been embraced until their bones ached.

  While Joseph was on the rescue mission to save his daughters, Alice had been making up rooms for the new guests, who, considering what they were doing for her and her family, were welcome with them as long as there was food to eat and air to breathe. As the mild euphoria died down and the younger children were put to bed, the adults began to say their goodnights and retire as well. Joseph, an old-fashioned man, whose handshake and word had been enough for all who had known him in his fifty-odd years on this planet, gripped Mike’s shoulder tightly with his left hand. He took Mike’s right hand in his and squeezed. Mike thought he could feel the circulation to his fingers stop.

  “What you did... what all of you did for us, Mike, we’ll never forget it. I’ll never forget it. You’re a good man. I’m going to bury my boy tomorrow, and my son-in-law. We’ll go back to that house and take what they took from others and then I’m driving my family to Candleton where my brother lives. It will be a lot safer there. It’s about fifteen miles north of Skelton, and I’d like you to think about coming with us, Mike, you and your family and friends. Trust me, they’d welcome the likes of you with open arms.” He paused and looked at Mike’s tired face. Lucy was sitting at the other side of the large kitchen table, finishing off her tepid cup of coffee and eavesdropping on the conversation.

  “That’s very kind, Joseph, thank you, but—”

  “Just have a think about it. Discuss it with your family and your friends.” He released his vice-like grip, nodded and took his leave from the room.

  Mike looked across the table to Lucy. They were the only two left in the dimly lit kitchen.

  “They’ve given us the master bedroom and the room next door to it. Joseph and Alice are on camp beds in the girls’ rooms. I doubt they’ll ever let those girls out of their sight again,” she mused while taking another sip from her mug.

  “Well, you
get off to bed, Doc, I’m going to keep watch,” he said, stopping her mid gulp.

  “Keep watch? I thought they were all dead,” she said, her eyebrows arching in concern.

  “They are, Doc. But we’re on a farm. Everyone knows there’ll be food and supplies on a farm. Just because we’ve got rid of one group of raiders that doesn’t mean another one won’t come along.”

  “Mike, you need to get some sleep. You’ll burn yourself out.”

  “Look, when everyone’s up and about again, I’ll catch a few hours, but I’m not going to take any risks with our safety.” He forced a tired smile. “Go get some sleep, Doc, we’ve got another hard day ahead of us.”

  Lucy stood up and walked across to Mike. The bumping and footsteps from the other rooms had died down as, one by one, the others had succumbed to well-overdue sleep. “After the first time we met, Samantha told me about why you were sent away.” She said the last two words almost guiltily. “She explained the circumstances to me and I made the assumption that you had some pretty serious anger management issues.”

  Mike lowered his eyes and laughed a little. It was something he’d heard more than a few times before.

  “Then when I heard your plan to get up to Scotland and I saw you in action, I thought it went beyond that. I thought to myself, this guy isn’t all there – the way you dived through your living room window, the way you kill the RAMs with that kind of explosive violence – well, I thought there was something a bit deeper than just anger management issues. But everything you’ve done has been bang on the money. You’re the only one who has adapted to this situation. My excuse was that I didn’t want to adapt. I didn’t want to make those kinds of choices because that would be giving up on the person I was and the values I had. But that was cowardly. I was prepared to go along with what you suggested because it relieved me of the responsibility. If things went wrong, I wouldn’t be the one who had made the decision. My hands would be clean.” Mike stayed silent as she struggled through her thoughts. She had black rings under her eyes, her collar-length golden hair was dishevelled and there was a dark smudge on the side of her face, but for the first time Mike noticed that Lucy was an attractive woman. Granted, she was a few years older than him, but before this entire nightmare began, she probably turned heads whenever she walked into a room. He waited while she tried to find the words she so desperately wanted to say.

  “I understand now. Thanks to you, I understand what needs to be done. I can see that if someone starts a fist-fight with us, we need to finish it with a grenade. I understand that this is the way things need to be now for us just to survive. You figured that out straight away. I just wanted to let you know we’re on the same page. And I wanted you to know how grateful I am.” She smiled at him. The words didn’t come out quite the way she wanted them to, but her point was made.

  “We did it together, Doc, you don’t need to thank me.”

  “Yes, I do.” With that she turned to head for the bedroom. Before she left the room she looked back at him. “Don’t get me wrong. I still think you’re crazy, you’re just the right kind of crazy.”

  They shared a lingering smile before she turned again. Mike walked over to the kettle. It had been a long night and it still wasn’t over for him. He made himself an instant coffee and wondered how much there was left. Not in the jar, not in the kitchen, but in the country. This might be the last cup of coffee he ever had. He closed his eyes as the warm black liquid rolled over his tongue. It wouldn’t be long before the caffeine began to buzz through his veins, giving him the burst of energy he needed just to get through the last few hours of the night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It was past nine before anyone stirred. Mike could hear movement from several rooms, but the first person to appear was Samantha.

  “Go to bed now!” Mike just stood there. “I mean it, Mike, you need sleep. Lucy told me you were standing guard all night. If you make any excuses, we’ve got some stuff in the ambulance that can put an elephant to sleep for a week, and don’t think we won’t use it.”

  “Morning, Samantha,” Mike said dryly. “Sleep well?”

  “I’m serious, Mike,” she said, reminding him of a ward matron he had encountered when he was having his appendix out.

  He put his hands up. “Okay, okay, I’m going.” He walked down the hall. Peter appeared from one of the rooms, his eyes barely open and his head down. Mike carried on to the end door. Emma was dressed and in the process of getting the children ready. They exchanged hugs and hellos, but Mike was unconscious long before they left the room for breakfast.

  The morning was well organised, like most days at Mead Hall Farm. After breakfast, which was plentiful but solemn, Joseph began preparing two graves with the mechanical digger while his boys respectfully and carefully wrapped the bodies of their brother and brother-in-law.

  Alice and the girls, along with Jake and Sammy, made a start loading the truck, which had now been swept clean of all the dirt and rubble from the previous day. The first job was to pack it with the food and supplies from the barn. Annie, Beth and Tracey worked well together. The latter even managed to raise a small smile from the other two now and again.

  The range in the kitchen almost superheated the water, which for the time being was still flowing. Emma, Lucy and Samantha each had a scalding shower followed by a change of clothes. All revitalised and each with a mug of steaming black coffee in their hands, they sat around the kitchen table.

  “We should be out there helping,” Emma said guiltily.

  “We will in a minute,” Lucy replied. She leant forward, elbows on the table, hands clasped around her coffee mug. “Look, just before I turned in last night, Joseph invited us to join him. He’s convinced that his brother’s place will be a safe haven. We’re heading north anyway, so I think it would be an idea to tag along. If it’s as secure as he thinks we should stop there a couple of days and get ourselves a bit more prepared.”

  “What do you mean, more prepared?” Emma said.

  “For a start, we’ve got weapons and ammo now, and unless I’m mistaken, I’m the only one in our group who’s ever used a gun. I could show all three of you how to use one. And judging by the last twenty-four hours, we could be on the road a long time before we get to where we’re going. We need to make a few repairs and modifications to the ambulance. Having no bumper makes it a lot easier for the RAMs to get underneath. In the back of the ambulance, you’re completely blind to anything other than what you can see through the windscreen at the front. If we had some tools and a bit of time, we could put some peepholes in. That’s just for starters.” She leaned back, drawing her coffee with her, and looked at the two women to gauge their reactions.

  Samantha nodded gently; it was obvious that Lucy had already discussed this with her. Emma’s left eyebrow arched, her eyes fixed firmly on the black liquid swilling gently in her cup.

  “You’re right, it makes sense,” she said thoughtfully.

  Lucy was a little surprised. Up until now, she hadn’t had a lot of interaction with Emma, but was of the opinion she did whatever her brother told her. She felt somewhat guilty that she had jumped to such a conclusion. “Okay then.”

  The three women finished their drinks in silence and emerged into the morning light. The area near the supply barn was a hive of activity, so they headed across there. They joined the human conveyor belt that was loading and securing the truck. This was nothing new for Lucy – she had grown up in a rural community back in New England. Her father had been a chemist, but his brothers had carried on the family farm. She had often helped out in her holidays and at harvest time. The days were long and the work was exhausting, but the sense of community on the farm always kept her going. She felt that now, a single purpose.

  At midday, Peter came across to tell them that they were ready to bury the bodies.

  The service was short and unceremonious but full of emotion. Before the earth covered the blanketed body of her husband, Beth removed a lock
et from around her neck and gently dropped it into the grave. “I’ll always love you, Francis,” she sobbed. As she walked away, Joseph and Peter picked up shovels and began filling in the grave. Although the holes had been made by a mechanical digger, the dead at least deserved the earth on their bodies to be replaced with the sweat of their own.

  After a short pause, the work began again. There would be time to grieve properly when they were in Candleton.

  Before long, all that remained in the supply barn was empty racking. The team of women and children went back into the house and Lucy thought to herself that this must be a little like the “spirit of the Blitz”. Everyday people in a terrifying situation, all working together doing their own small part to help win the war. Of course, the war now was very different.

  Soon afterwards, Joseph and Peter joined them in the farmhouse kitchen. Both of them scrubbed their hands clean in the large sink before accepting warm drinks from Alice and Beth.

  “We should be thinking about getting back to that house soon. Get what we can while it’s there,” Joseph said, to anyone who was listening, but mainly to Lucy.

  She nodded. “It’s probably an idea to go in two vehicles, just in case.”

  “Aye, well, we’ve got a box van that we use for the farmers’ markets, holds plenty, pretty nippy too,” he said, looking towards Lucy for approval.

  “Okay, well, I’ll wake Mike and we’ll take the Land Rover up front. We’ll clear the way for you in case there are any...” She was about to say RAMs but, noticing there were still children in the room, opted for “problems”.

  At that moment, the bedroom door at the end of the hall opened and Mike stepped out, stumbling a little. He carried on down the hallway, leaning on the wall and limping. All eyes were on him as he entered the kitchen. Emma was the first to stand and go to her brother.