The Renegade

by Amy Dunne

  Evelyn shook her head. “They love each other and they’re both virgins. You made them pledge their chastity to you.” She slammed her hand down on the table. “They swore to you and your God in front of everyone that they’ll wait until they’re married. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Elijah glowered. “It’s not my place, or yours, to question our Lord God’s wishes.”

  “She’s not ready for marriage or pregnancy. Even if she was, she should be able to choose her own spouse. We both know she’d choose Ben.” She could feel the restraints of her temper fraying. Her tone was higher in pitch, and tears threatened, all from the anger that coursed through her veins.

  “Our Lord God has chosen for her and we must accept his will. In time she’ll see it’s for the best.”

  “How can you be so callous? You’ll break their hearts. Ben’s not even here to defend their relationship,” she said. Realisation suddenly dawned and she saw everything with startling clarity. “You planned this all along. That’s why you sent him away.”

  “We needed the men to go scavenge further afield before winter sets in.”

  “He’s fifteen. You sent him away so you could do what you want with Gemma. What’s going to happen when he comes back? Do you really think he’s going to just accept it? And what happens when Gemma says no? Because she will say no.”

  “She’ll see sense.”

  “There’s no sense to see. She’s a child. David’s old enough to be her grandfather. This is sick.” She looked him square in the eye. “I won’t let you do this.”

  Elijah laughed, his cruel chortle echoing around the grand hall. “How exactly are you going to stop me, Evelyn? I like your feistiness, but it needs calming. It’s time you learnt your place. You’ve got to respect what our Lord God—”

  “It’s what you want. All of this is because of you. Don’t use some mythical god as a scapegoat.” She clawed at the dense material of her dress, scrunching it up inside her fists.

  “Be careful,” he said, stabbing a pointed finger in her direction. “I don’t take blasphemy lightly. Our Lord God has chosen me as his loyal servant. I will do his bidding and nothing will get in my way.”

  Evelyn’s mind was racing. She needed to get out of here and warn Gemma. She needed to find a way for them all to escape.

  “As it happens, you shouldn’t be so concerned about Gemma. Not when you’ve got your own wedding to look forward to. You and I will also be married in three days’ time.”

  Elijah’s words penetrated her whirlwind of thoughts. She stared at him in disbelief.

  “Together, we’re going to ensure the future of this camp and mankind. In his mercy, our Lord God has promised us many children. Our firstborn is destined to become a great and powerful leader—”

  “I don’t love you,” Evelyn said hoarsely. Her head was swimming and her stomach lurching, trying to purge itself of the meal she’d eaten. “I’ll never love you.”

  Elijah cocked an eyebrow. “I know this has come as a shock. On this occasion, I’ll forgive that outburst, but my patience is wearing thin.”

  Evelyn was too dumbfounded to speak.

  “I thought we might have longer to get to know one another, but that’s not the case. I already care for you a great deal. From the moment you came into camp I felt a connection. You’re the woman I’ve been waiting for my entire life. I’ll be a good husband, Evelyn. I’ll protect you and make sure you want for nothing. In time you’ll feel different about me. Soon enough, you’ll love me back.”

  “Never,” Evelyn said vehemently. “I could never love a monster like you. And I won’t marry you.”

  “Enough,” he said. His eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists. “You’ll do as our Lord God commands, or so help me—”

  “Fuck you and your Lord God.” Evelyn shoved the chair backward and stood. She stumbled, tripping over the material of her dress, but persevered until she reached the door. Her hands gripped the handle tightly. She turned it and pulled with all her might. The wood groaned but the door didn’t move. Crying out in rage, she pulled again and again. Still the door remained locked. She began pounding against the wood with her fists. She hammered until her hands were too sore to continue.

  His gravelly laugh filled the silence and tormented her. She spun around to find that he hadn’t moved from his seat. He sat back casually, watching her.

  Humiliation warmed her cheeks. “Unlock the door,” she said.

  “We’re not leaving this room until you’ve agreed to marry me and apologised for your disgusting behaviour. You’re acting like a child.” He turned his attention to a box of chocolates resting on the table. He carefully removed the ribbon and took off the lid. After perusing the choices he picked up a chocolate, inspected it, and popped it into his mouth.

  Crazed with determination, Evelyn looked around the hall and spotted another door at the far end. Picking up the dress, she ran to it. She pulled on the handle, her muscles close to tearing, but it too was locked. Although she’d expected it to be locked, the disappointment made her stomach plunge. She was running out of options.

  Elijah still watched her, chewing on what she presumed was another chocolate. She hoped he choked. “I expected more from you,” he said with a humourless smile. “For a woman who claims to be rational and intelligent, you’re proving yourself to be anything but.”

  “You’re sick and twisted. Do you really think keeping me captive in this room is going to make me confess my undying love for you?”

  “I’m not asking for your love. That will come in time. Agree to marry me, and I’ll open the door.”

  “Never.” She walked back to the table. Her gaze fell on the knife she’d used during their meal. She grabbed it. The blade was blunt but it was her last option.

  “Think carefully, Evelyn,” he said, adding a patronising tut-tut.

  She walked around the table holding the knife out in front of her. He turned in his seat to watch her but showed no concern. He even had the audacity to grin. “Give me the key.”

  “No,” he said. He took another swig from his glass.

  She took another step toward him but he remained calm. What was she doing? He clearly wasn’t worried about the knife. It was a useless weapon.

  “Give me the key, Elijah.” She despised the trembling she heard in her voice. She took another half a step and thrust the tip of the knife against his throat.

  “Now what?” he asked in a teasing whisper, his Adam’s apple dipping and diving with his words. He moved his throat closer to the blade’s tip, causing a deep indentation in his skin. The blade was too blunt to puncture the layers of skin needed to draw blood.

  She couldn’t understand why he didn’t show even a little concern. This was a game to him. The glint in his eyes hinted at madness. They both knew the truth: She’d lost. There were no other options. She was as trapped in this room, as she was in camp. She really didn’t have any choices. Her heart sank.

  Before she could remove the knife he burst into action. In a flash, the knife had tumbled to the floor and Evelyn was bent over the table. Her forehead pressed against the linen-covered wood as he held her in place, with his hand painfully squeezing the back of her neck.

  “I’m our Lord God’s humble servant, and in doing his bidding, he grants me protection. Nothing can stop me. But the same can’t be said for you.”

  She felt him move and heard a chink of something metallic but couldn’t see anything because of how her head was positioned.

  “Now, that knife was so blunt it couldn’t even cut through warm butter. There were so many other makeshift weapons you could’ve used…the jagged edge of a smashed plate or bottle. Personally, I’d have chosen the fork. The prongs can cause all manner of damage.” He stepped to her right so she could finally see him. In his free hand was a golden fork. “If you use it just right, it can kill. Did you know that?”

  She tried to move away, but the hand holding her neck was too strong. She watche
d helplessly as he brought the fork closer. She fought again to try and turn her head, but failed. Using her right hand she clawed at him, but he pinned the arm against her side with his body. She couldn’t even kick him because of the material of the dress.

  “Tell me, Evelyn,” he said, moving his head close to whisper in her ear, “who’s going to save you now? Who’s going to stop me from hurting you with this? I won’t kill you because you’re too precious to me, but perhaps I should teach you a lesson.”

  She felt the forks prongs touch her face. She cried out, but his grip on her neck and the fork remained steady from his eerie calmness. Slowly, he moved a trail with the prongs from her chin, over a cheek, and torturously near her eye.

  “I wonder. Could you still perform medicine with only one eye?”

  Fear seized her heart and clenched it to the point she was sure she’d die. She’d underestimated just how crazy and evil he was. Now she was going to suffer because of her ignorance.

  “Lucky for you, I like your eyes just the way they are.” He removed the fork away and laughed heartily. After a few more seconds, he released his grip on her neck. He threw the fork across the room. It clattered to the floor somewhere in the darkness. “And I wouldn’t want you to miss seeing our wedding day or the birth of our children.”

  She stood up straight. Her body trembled uncontrollably; the back of her neck was sore.

  He reclaimed his drink and drained the glass. As he gulped the liquid down, Evelyn’s legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor. The burgundy material pooled around her like blood.

  “You will marry me. I’ll drag you kicking and screaming to say the vows if I have to. And our marriage will be consummated with or without your consent.”

  She looked up at him from the floor and spat at his feet. “You’ll have to. I’ll fight you every step of the way. You crazy bastard.”

  He sat in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Ah. Thank you for reminding me.” He rubbed his hands together. “Of course, there’s always more than one way to skin a cat.”

  She refused to rise to the bait. She wanted to try and stand, but wasn’t convinced her legs could hold her weight.

  “As you brought up the subject of bastards, tell me, how do you think that little bastard you’ve adopted will feel about us getting married? Will there be problems from him, too?”

  Covering her face with her hands, she realised the mistake she’d made. Words failed her. Terror burrowed into her heart. After the abuse she’d suffered at Elijah’s hands, she couldn’t even conceive what he could do to Jamie. She had to keep Jamie safe. That was all that mattered now.

  “I wonder how he’s doing. Before you joined me, I asked David to go and check on him this evening. We’ve been discussing his future in the camp quite a lot recently. I’m tempted to let him go on a scouting expedition. It’d be a great experience for a young lad. Don’t you think? Dangerous, though. It’d be a terrible shame if something were to happen to him.”

  “No!” she said, as the strength left her body. Horror washed over her in waves. “Please.” Tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Please, leave Jamie alone. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Laughing, he rocked forward and slapped his thigh, as if she’d told an amusing joke. “You’re going to do what I want anyway.”

  “I’ll marry you. I’ll do anything you want, just please swear you won’t harm him.” She crawled in front of him and placed her hands on his legs.

  “You poor thing. You really think you can barter with me?” He stroked her hair affectionately. “Don’t you understand? You’ve got nothing to offer that I can’t just take.”

  “You said before that you care for me and believe in time I’ll reciprocate those feelings.”

  “I did.”

  “Taking what you want by force isn’t going to lead to love. My hatred for you will grow every time,” she said. Wiping her tears away, she forced herself to look up and hold his gaze. “If you swear to keep Jamie safe, I’ll give myself to you willingly. I’ll say the vows and become your wife. I’ll do what you want, but I’ll do it of my own free will.”

  A mixture of emotions flickered across his face. All of a sudden he stood, looking down at her. His right hand flew out.

  She cowered from the hand, waiting for the strike. It never came. Unclenching her eyes wearily, she saw the hand was held out in front of her, in offering.

  “You’ve my word. I won’t harm the boy,” he said quietly.

  Having no choice, she took hold of this hand and allowed him to pull her up.

  “As long as you keep your side of our deal.” He moved his face closer to hers. “Listen to this warning, as I’ll only say it once. If you ever betray me, it won’t be just the boy who suffers. You’re mine. You always will be. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect what belongs to me. Are we clear?”

  She didn’t trust herself to speak and so nodded.

  “Good girl. You see, it wasn’t that hard to be well behaved, was it? Now let’s seal our deal with a kiss. After all, you’re my fiancée.”

  Choking on hate and bile, she unwillingly placed her lips to his. The touch of him was repugnant. She pulled away quickly, trying not to retch.

  “I’d hardly call that a kiss.” He gently cupped her face with his hands, his thumb skimming over her lips and caressing her cheek tentatively. “But we’ve got the rest of our lives to perfect it.”

  Chapter Seven

  After another night of sharing a sleeping bag and having vivid nightmares, Alex packed up camp with Paddy following loyally at her heels. Although her body still ached, she needed to start travelling again. With her hand still injured, packing up their camp wasn’t easy. The wound was painful but the itching was what really bothered her. She tried to ignore the possibility that the wound might be infected.

  “Ready?” she asked Paddy. He yapped once in response and so they began their journey. Used to walking at a steady pace, she soon realised they wouldn’t get close to matching her usual speed. Paddy was a determined, independent little guy, but after just ten minutes it was clear he was struggling to keep up. After a further twenty minutes she noticed he started limping.

  Shrugging off her rucksack, she knelt on the ground to inspect his paws. Two of his pads looked sore and one was bleeding. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known you weren’t up to walking this far.” She poured a bowl of water. While Paddy lapped the water, she considered their options. She had no choice but to carry him to the next town and then try to find something to help them. She packed the bowl, pulled on her rucksack, and picked him up. He was compliant in her arms and rested his head on her shoulder as she started walking.

  During the next few hours Alex had to keep stopping to rest her arms and shoulders. Eventually, she decided to make camp, as she physically couldn’t continue any further. She pitched the tent and left Paddy asleep in the shade while she went in search of higher ground and kindling. At the top of a steep hill she used her scope. Relief surged through her when she spotted a town a distance away. Providing they left early tomorrow, they should get there by late afternoon.

  On her way back to camp she collected some dry twigs and decent-sized branches. After starting a small fire, she made food, which they ate in a comfortable, but tired, silence. Concern finally got the better of her and she carefully peeled away the bandages to a sight that turned her stomach: the wound was definitely infected. She tried to treat it with antibacterial wipes and cream before using fresh bandages to dress it. The soiled bandages burned on the fire—the last thing she wanted was to attract wild animals.

  The infection was probably the reason she felt so tired and feverish, but she didn’t know how to treat it. In the end, she swallowed some painkillers, put the fire out, and crawled into the tent. Paddy followed her. “I’ll be okay. I just need to sleep,” she said. She didn’t bother to unpack her sleeping bag. “Tomorrow we’ll make it to the town and I’ll get some medicine.” Paddy gave her face a quick lic
k and then circled a few times before settling down and watching over her.

  The night had dragged and she eventually woke to the nudging of a cold nose sniffing her clammy skin. She felt more exhausted than before she’d tried to sleep. She gave Paddy a halfhearted fuss and climbed out of the tent. She packed their things, choosing to forgo breakfast. Although she only had her own clothes to choose from, she chose an outfit that looked masculine. Before dressing she carefully bound her breasts with material and was happy with the flat appearance of her chest. She was finally ready to leave. The urgency to get into the town and find medicine was all she could think about.

  *

  She scanned the different streets and roads of the town, trying to ignore the distractions of her trembling body and pounding headache. Paranoia and the memory of what had happened in the last town made her extra cautious.

  She sat up, wiped sweat from her eyes, and looked at Paddy. “I’m going down there by myself. Stay,” she said, regretting her harsh tone. Paddy slumped. She pulled a shirt over her shoulders and checked the knife and holster one final time. “I’ll get you something nice.” She gave his head a pat, even though it made her vision swim.

  As the town approached, her heart began to race with trepidation. The streets looked clear of bodies, but out of habit, she wrapped her scarf around her mouth and nose. She warily passed by endless deserted houses. Cars lined the driveways and a small pink bike lay discarded at the bottom of one garden. The lawns were overgrown and many front gardens had mounds of dirt where burials had taken place.

  Religious buildings suffered a quick and brutal annihilation. The scared and desperate dying masses bombarded churches, cathedrals, synagogues, and mosques, trying to find comfort in faith, but no religion was able to deliver. The Red Death paid no heed to any particular religion. There were no miraculous acts of divine intervention for those of a certain faith. And those religious representatives on the frontline were among the first to become infected and perish. Soon enough, people had to conduct their own last rites and burial ceremonies for their loved ones. Gardens quickly became graveyards.