Aftermath: The complete collection

by John Wilkinson

  ‘That’s very kind’ I said, ‘We must thank you for your hospitality George, you have both been very kind, hopefully we will be able to repay you one day. Until then, I have left you the bottle of whiskey you had your eye on, it’s on your kitchen table.’

  ‘Thanks Nathan, you just get that little girl of yours, and bring her back here, you know where we are.’ I nodded and smiled. ‘God will protect you, believe in him and he will guide you.’ We hugged, said our good-byes and watched as his red truck continued north. I packed the flask into my rucksack and we headed off in the direction of the darkest clouds in the sky. We picked the right side of the road to follow again, mainly because it was practical, we didn’t have to cross any roads to follow it, but also because it felt more comfortable. For the first few miles the road followed a river to its left, which might have been tricky to navigate bending and twisting as it did. The first obstacle on our side was a different river that cut across our path, as we approached it I noticed a small, beautiful church on the other side. I had driven this road many times and never noticed it, sat proudly on the edge of the river. At first I was worried we would have to strip to cross the river, but fortunately there was a small concrete bridge across it further down. We crossed and headed back towards the church, after a few hours walking we were due a rest and it seemed as good a place as any. There was a car park located at the back of the church, empty apart from two cars parked next to each other, close to the church entrance. The tyres were down on all the wheels, the metal hubs sinking into the ash that covered the ground. We walked up to the cars from behind, and I looked through the back window of the nearest one, brushing off the layer of dust that caked the window. The seats had been put back to create a makeshift bed, the family inside were long since dead, curled up in their blankets, their black skin shrunk to their skulls like vacuum packed plastic. They could have died from one of many things, the cold, illness or just starvation. There were four bodies in all, maybe they thought the church was the safest place to seek refuge, the Lords door is always open, but on this occasion they were chained and padlocked. The second car had a further two bodies in a similar state of decomposition, maybe part of the same family. As the main church doors were locked, we walked around the side of the building to its huge stain glass windows, that were scattered across the floor, none of the churches windows were intact. We shouted through the window frame, and with no response, removed the rucksacks from our backs and threw them in. I climbed through the window first, after a boost from Roy, it was good to get out of the cold wind. The room we landed in was a store room, still full of church materials, it looked untouched, maybe nobody had felt confident looting from the home of our Lord. We walked through a hallway into the main body of the church, which opened out in front of us, the architecture was grand and beautiful. But all the windows had fallen through onto the pews and altar below, broken glass was everywhere, but again, the place looked untouched. It must have been the first time I had stepped inside a church since Jane died, her funeral had been a challenging time for me, and my faith. We carried our rucksacks through to the front pew and brushed the broken glass off with our arms. Roy got the flask out and poured a couple of coffees, that were still red hot. I smashed the legs off the bible stand, and threw them into a metal bin, and then poured some lighter fluid over and lit it, after a few minutes it started to burned nice and hot. Roy passed me a cup of hot coffee, which I warmed my frozen hands with, they thawed out over the next few minutes, regaining their feeling. We sat, for the most part, in silence, warming some of June’s home-made stew. For the second time in as many months I closed my eyes, bowed my head and prayed for my daughter, to a God I no longer believed in. I sat as close to the fire as I could handle, taking off my outer clothing and hanging them up on a pew to dry. After thirty minutes rest and recuperation, we wrapped back up, climbed back out of the window, and continued with our journey. The conditions outside had deteriorated while we ate, the wind was strong and there was black snow in the air, I wrapped a scarf around my face as we continued to follow the road. We heard what sounded like dogs barking for the first hour of walking, we never saw them, but they were there, somewhere off in the darkness. We past over a few small country roads before a large opening appeared to our right. The clearing was a golf course, which we walked over, the clubhouse looked like it had been left alone, which we also ignored preferring to keep moving. There was golf equipment abandoned on the fare way, clubs, balls, even a golf cart. When we reached the trees that covered the north east, I could see what looked like a deserted camp, with a still smoking fire, that could only have been vacated recently. There was food wrappers littering the floor, and the smell of burned meat. Roy shouted me over to the trees beyond the camp, were we made another grisly discovery. Tied to the base of a tree was the burned and beheaded remains of a body, the smell had been coming from there, it was foul, I put my hand over my scarf covered mouth and nose, the body was burned beyond any distinguishable features. On the tree behind there was another body in a similar state, and this one had a sign nailed to the tree above. I got close enough to the still smoking body to read ‘Carrier of kuru.’ Neither Roy or myself had heard of kuru, but we presumed it was some form of disease. We left the wooded area heading towards the small town ahead, while keeping the A702 in sight. Although some distance away, we could see something hanging from the lampposts at the entrance to the town of Bigger, and we weren’t surprised to discover they were bodies. There were five men hung from their necks, who looked to have been dead some time, their bodies battered by the conditions. Bigger was deserted, the conditions seemed worse than we had experienced lately, there were no windows intact, areas where fires had raged for days, only dying out when there was nothing left to burn. Everything had been scorched, buildings, land, there was no escaping the onslaught. We left Bigger and continued heading north west for the next six hours, across the most rural and punishing part of our journey, the incredible cold almost broke our spirit, but with a purpose, we pushed through. The air was becoming thicker and increasingly difficult to breath in, as though we were atop a mountain. I had to concentrate to keep my breathing regular, and not end up flustered and out of breath. The ground was flat and open for mile upon mile, the blustering winds barrelled across the open land. During those hours walking, a figure appeared ahead, out of the muggy distance. At first I couldn’t tell if it was a adult or a child, he couldn’t have been much over five foot, but as he got closer, his round demeanour gave him away as an old man. He was walking very slowly in our direction, struggling with the weight of his rucksack, that was almost as big as him. He was old, maybe in his eighties, he looked tired and dirty, he walked towards us for a few minutes and then sat down on his backside in the middle of the field, waiting for us to pass. His shrunken black eyes followed us until we were close enough to speak, ‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘No I’m fine’ he replied, straining his neck to look up at us. ‘I don’t need any help.’

  ‘Are you sure, we have food and water, even some hot coffee.’

  ‘I told you I’m....Did you say hot coffee? I haven’t had a hot drink for some time, if you could spare a cup, I would be grateful.’Roy opened my rucksack while it was still on my back, and took the flask out, pouring a cupful into the lid. He handed it to the man, who grabbed it with his little, fat fingers, and then cupped it in both hands to warm them. ‘So you have enough food and water to last your journey?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah I have plenty, people have tried to steal it, but I’m wise to that.’

  His hands shook as he raised the cup to his bearded mouth, blowing the surface before taking a sip. He told us about what had happened to him since the attack, and where he was going, while he finished his drink. When he had, he gave the cup back to Roy, who wiped the dirty fingerprints off, before screwing it back onto the flask and putting it in my rucksack. I helped the man to his feet, he thanked us and we
watched him on his way. As we continued walking, I noticed Roy kept looking back at him, ‘He won’t last much longer’ he said, picking up a large stone from the field. ‘We should take his food, before anyone else does.’ I was slightly taken aback at first, taking a few seconds to respond. ‘I’m not going to steal from an elderly man, what are you suggesting we do to him?’

  Roy looked at me as though my question had been stupid, before answering, ‘What do you think? Take his food. He’s going to die soon enough anyway, it’s just a matter of time, and someone will benefit from that bag of food, it might as well be us.’

  I grabbed his arm to try and get hold of the stone, but he forced himself free. ‘I cannot believe what I’m hearing’ I said. ‘We’re not even desperate for food and you would have us kill for it.’

  ‘I never said kill him, but he’s dead already, you must know that, his food is wasted on him. How long will our food last? How long before we are desperate for water again? We have to take every opportunity that comes our way, if we don’t, someone else will.’

  ‘So you would kill him with that?’ I said, pulling the stone out off his hand and throwing it onto the scorched ground.

  ‘You’ve killed people without a second thought’ he responded. ‘Every person I have killed, I had to make a decision on, whether it was to put them out of their misery, or because I considered them a threat.’ I was that pissed off with the conversation that I stomped off in the direction we had been walking in, it took me a few minutes to calm down. Roy caught up to me but didn’t speak for thirty minutes, sensing I was not in the mood, and the subject was never discussed again. The dogs that had been barking earlier made a fleeting appearance, a large pack of around twenty, briefly sighted behind us before disappearing into the darkness. By the time the grey burned out buildings of West Linton came across our path, we were seriously in need of a rest. On the outskirts of the town we discovered a mass grave, full of rotting bodies, probably the ex-inhabitants of the town. It was around twelve feet by six, dug into the frozen ground, its depth was hard to gauge, as I couldn’t see the bottom. West Linton was the first built up area we walked through today, made up of small housing estates and straight roads, the town was substantially burned out. We saw no sign of life until we were leaving, when a man came walking towards us in the middle of the street. He walked slowly, stumbling like he was drunk, from a distance, he resembled a zombie from a Hollywood film, but this was no film. He staggered towards us, shaking uncontrollably, his eyes looked bloodshot and raw, he did try to communicate when he saw us, but he seemed confused, we kept our distance believing he had some kind of illness. His skin looked burnt and was rotting around his mouth and eyes, the smell that accompanied him was similar to the bodies we encountered at the entrance to most towns. I didn’t notice it for a while, but he had a severed hand around his neck tied to a piece of string, it wasn’t his hand and when we asked him about it, he just laughed uncontrollably, to the point it was awkward. The fingers looked like they had been chewed on, nibbled, I was sure I could see scraps of dead skin hanging from his teeth. The conversation was not worth repeating here, in fact in barely made any sense. We left him confident he was unable to follow, but checked behind a couple of times to be sure. The nearer to Edinburgh we walked, the blacker the snow got, which had been floating around for a few hours. As we left West Linton, the snow started to come down with some force, causing long black ash drifts. We tried to take cover under the plastic sheeting but our legs got more and more wet, and then the cold took hold. We were struggling to walk, losing the feeling in our legs, ahead I could see the start of the Pentland Hills looming through the muggy horizon. A marker for me when I’m driving, just ten minutes until I’m home, but right now it might just provide us with some cover. The snow was beginning to burn my skin, my eyes and mouth, red painful rashes appearing anywhere not covered. Just before we reached the forest, we had a scary moment with the wild dogs. Roy was following behind me, as I walked the muddy path towards a wooden shed covered with ivy. The ground around my feet was covered in paw prints, the further afield I looked, the more I noticed. I got the feeling we were being watched, before three dogs suddenly jumped out from behind the shed, snarling and showing their teeth. They looked deranged and twitchy, like they were standing on hot coals. Drool was dripping from their jaws, and their fur was matted with dirt and grime. The smell was foul, it filled my nostrils. The dog in the centre of the three, lunged towards me, its paws scrapping through in the mud. It was barking and growling, looking for a reason to go for me. I walked backwards, slowly, making sure to not look it in the eye, while still keeping tabs on its whereabouts. I reached around to the back of my rucksack and unhooked my crowbar, bringing it around to my front. It lunged forward again, barking. I smacked my crowbar into the ground in front of it, and shouted back, ‘You wanna fuck with me?’ The two dogs behind came forward, parallel with the central one. I made myself as big as possible and shouted back, ‘Come on you mother fucker,’ while banging the ground repeatedly, but still not looking them in the eye. They continued to bark aggressively, challenging us, as we backtracked as slowly as possible. I was worried where the rest of the dogs were, that they might be circling us. But as we got further away, the rest of the pack appeared behind the central three, running around in circles, causing dust to cloud above them. As the dogs challenge dropped, the cloud helped us stay a safe distance away from them as we made our way around the pack, remaining as quiet as possible. I don’t know if we had just stumbled upon land they considered theirs, or they had been hunting for food, but we had a lucky escape, and it was an area to avoid on the way back. We crossed the road fifty yards before the forest, my legs nearly buckling on the tarmac, I was almost on my knees, but the forest did offer us the protection we needed. The wind lost its potency, with virtual no black snow reaching us on the ground. The trees had lost all their foliage, with just an odd branch remaining. Their black charcoal bodies looked like the needles of a hairbrush. In some areas of the forest, there were no trees still upright, as the nuclear winds had found a way through the valleys and hills. The ground was covered in a black mulch consisting of leaves, branches and ash, but we could still make better ground than in the open. We walked under cover of the forest for over two hours, it had a very strange atmosphere, I kept thinking I could see someone through the trees, but there was no one there, my eyes were playing tricks. That’s possibly why when I saw the flickering orange light to our left, further into the forest, I didn’t think anything of it. But as we drew parallel, we could both hear the sound of voices coming from the same direction. With no bullets left, investigating was always going to be a risk, but Roy thought we needed to know more about what we were dealing with, but I sensed he wanted to find a group who were a bit more like minded. There was an overpowering smell of burnt wood, the deeper we walked into the forest, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant smell, we trod as carefully as we could, not wanting to alert anyone to our presence, and stopped around forty yards from a gathering of men, all warming themselves by a large fire. I leaned against a large burnt tree trunk, its texture gritty and rough, I was trying to get a better view, the group was large, maybe more than a hundred. They were in high spirits, singing and dancing, the drink was flowing as the men moved between the food on the fire and the large barrels sat to their right. They didn’t behave like the man we had seen on the road, they moved freely and without constraint. I couldn’t get a view of what was on the fire and signalled for Roy to try, but his view was as restricted as mine, the men were largely gathered around it, eating from it. Could they be trusted? I couldn’t see any children or women in the group, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. I heard shouting from further into the forest, more men were arriving carrying something over their heads. Some of the group who were standing in front of the fire went to greet them, there was much whooping and a hollering, as they surrounded the newcomers, I tried to get a better view of the fire, movi
ng a couple of trees nearer. I could just about make out a shape against the fiery orange, but I couldn’t be sure what it was. As my eyes were trying to piece together the picture, the group arrived back and threw a body onto the floor in front of the fire, my eyes moved to the corpse and to my horror, I realised it was the body of a child. The men were dancing around it, singing, completely unaware of anything going on around them. I stepped back, still reeling from my discovery, I could feel the blood draining from my face, as I stumbled towards Roy. ‘It’s a child Roy, they’re eating a child.’

  ‘I know’ he replied, ‘let’s get out of here.’

  We stumbled back through the darkness to the road and continued towards my farm, with an extra boost to our energy reserves. We never spoke about what we’d seen, I don’t think we could quite believe it, sometimes there are no words can express the horror. How can we have reached this low a point, that we are eating our children? That it’s an acceptable thing to do. With our new found energy, we completed the final few miles of walking in good time and found this outhouse to take shelter in as we wait for the right moment to gain entry to the my bunker. We haven’t chanced lighting a fire, the coffee June made for us is still warm enough to give some heat to our bodies. It’s now ten thirty p.m. we will wait until after twelve before making our move.