Human Nature (Book 2): Human Nature II

by Borthwick, Finlay

“Zach!” Erica screamed, concerned for the boy she viewed as a son. “Zach, where are you? Zach!” She cried out distressfully.

  There were muffled screams, and several moments passed before Zach screamed out again, “Help! Kidnappers!”

  Erica’s eyes shot open wide, as she now ran even faster through the mansion. As she reached the front wooden doors, she saw they were wide open.

  Rushing outside, she looked to the end of the drive. “Zach!” She screamed out in such agony, it felt like her vocal chords were being ripped out.

  In the distance, she saw two men in balaclavas dragging Zach, lobbing him into the back of a black van. They slammed the doors, locking them from the outside.

  Without any weapons, nor a plan, Erica ran at her maximum pace, with legs just like lead, down the drive. “You bastards! Get back here!” She yelled out furiously.

  While the van remained stationary for a few moments, by the time she was half way down the rocky driveway, the van sped off across the vast and luscious green garden. Driving off over the hill and into the horizon.

  “Erica! What the hell are you doing?” Gwen appeared at the front doors, rubbing her eyes; somehow she had slept through the entire ordeal. Ellie joined behind her shortly after.

  “People! They’ve…. Taken… Zach…” She began to sway, growing increasingly quieter with each word.

  “Erica? Erica!” Gwen called out to her, noticing that she was about to collapse. Erica’s eyes drooped shut, as she collapsed onto the stones.

  Gwen sat by Erica’s bed, eagerly awaiting the moment that she would come to.

  “How is she?” Asked Ellie, having appeared at the door.

  Gwen gazed Erica up and down, before giving Ellie an answer, “Well, she’s breathing steadily, and she hasn’t had any seizures. It looks like it was just the instantaneous shock of seeing Zach getting grabbed like that.” Gwen felt empathetic for Erica. “It’s the worst thing to happen to a parent… To see your own kid be taken away from you just like that.” She clicked her fingers with the emphasis on her words.

  Ellie watched both of the women in silence, feeling equally sorry for both of them, “Are you referring to… Elliot?” She quietened her voice to a mumble when speaking his name.

  Gwen nodded, and delayed for a short period before swallowing hard. “He became something horrible. I admit that. But at the same time, I allowed him to be like my own son. Annabelle loved him on that familial level just as much as I did. That never changed, even when he did.” A minute tear formed and rolled out of Gwen’s eye. “Every night Ellie, yes every single damn night, I still have visions of what happened to him. Watching him go down like that…”

  Everywhere anyone looked in the Camp, there was just pure chaos. Riots, makeshift bullets, canisters of tear gas even. The citizens of Hackley clearly disagreed with Elliot and Annabelle’s methods.

  An angry mob cried for justice outside of Elliot’s trailer. Louis and Miguel were the only two things preventing the mob from inside. However, they evidently wouldn’t last much longer. Though they used non-lethal force to keep everyone back, the mob was getting angrier with each passing minute. Eventually, one of them drew a pistol out on Louis, giving him ten seconds to move.

  Inside the trailer, Elliot was under hellfire from Gwen and Erica.

  “How could you let this happen? God dammit Elliot!” Erica berated him.

  “Don’t blame him!” Annabelle stepped in between the two. “If it wasn’t for Elliot, your backside probably would’ve been massacred by the visitors from Camp Leroy!”

  “What’s your problem?” Erica sighed in confusion, letting out an estranged smirk of disgust, “You’re seriously siding with this dickhead over your own mother?” Erica dragged Gwen into the dispute.

  Annabelle looked over at her mother. Despite the cagey and wide-eyed look on Gwen’s face, she said nothing to defend neither her friend nor her own daughter.

  “At least Elliot actually did something,” Annabelle glared straight into her mother’s eyes now. “Look at you mother! You can’t even bring yourself to say anything!”

  Gwen turned away from Annabelle, looking at the floor beneath her feet.

  A loud bang echoed from outside; it was a gunshot.

  Inside the trailer, everyone looked alarmingly at each other.

  The door burst open, Louis – with a bullet hole in his head – fell on his back, inside the trailer. Miguel fell back shortly after, tripping over Louis’ corpse. In an instant, he slammed the door behind him, using his own bodyweight to keep it pressed shut.

  “You have to get out of here,” Miguel nodded to Elliot, “Right now! They want your head on a stick!”

  Erica could now have a field-day with what had just happened. “Look at that Elliot!” She bluntly pointed at Louis’ corpse, “An innocent life has died! Caught in the crossfire between you, and the people who want ‘your head’, as Miguel puts it.”

  Though he felt a large amount of guilt, Elliot refused to give leverage to Erica. “We…” He cleared his throat, “We need to leave right now. All of us.” He tried to ignore Erica’s reprimand of him.

  Gwen’s eyes were frozen in memory. “I remember the look on his face,” her voice was wobbly. “That look of guilt,” her voice now cracked as well, “But at the same time, an element of that expression was the willingness to do what had to be done. Now, that’s why he died…”

  “Just go, Annabelle! I’ll see you on board the lorry!” Elliot helped his stepsister climb out the back window of the trailer.

  “Promise me you’ll come for us, Elliot. Promise me.” She held herself midway climbing through the window, determined to know her brother would come back.

  Elliot nodded, unsurely however, “I promise.” He continued rushing her out of the window. He watched Annabelle for a moment, before turning back around to face Miguel at the door. He joined him.

  “Help me shift this over!” Elliot went to the far side of his bookshelf. “One… Two… Three!” Elliot put all his weight into the wooden structure, assisted by Miguel who pulled it from the opposite end.

  The banging at the door continued, but now the bookshelf was firmly blocking the mob from entering.

  “Now, go…” Elliot lowly commanded Miguel.

  Up ahead, Gwen had stopped running. She turned around, watching as her daughter ran after her. Looking further ahead, she noticed Elliot looking at her through the trailer window. He pulled his walkie-talkie up to his mouth. As he pressed down on the side button, Gwen’s walkie-talkie clicked. She yanked it off her side, moving it up to her mouth, in perfect parallel to her stepson.

  “Mum,” Elliot formally addressed her.

  “Elliot, what’re you doing? Come on! Climb through the window already!” She was confused by Elliot’s hesitation. Annabelle and Miguel joined Gwen by her side.

  “I’m aware of who I am, mum…” Elliot cryptically carried on. “I know you hate this façade of mine. I did what needed to doing, and that included executing Tobin, Scott, Jasmine, and the others as well. It doesn’t mean I enjoyed it… I just did what I could to put order into this place. To make it somewhere you felt safe on some level, a place where you knew people wouldn’t just randomly turn on you. The only betrayal you ever got was myself… I corrupted Annabelle with my ideology. I had no right, and I’m sorry for that. But in the name of whatever god may be out there, or any other outside force, and in the name of my family; in the name of you, Gwen, I hope this shall make up for my sins.” Elliot explained.

  “What do you mean? What are you doing?” Gwen spoke back down her walkie-talkie. She still didn’t understand what exactly Elliot meant by his cryptic words.

  “Mum, Annabelle; I love you…” And with those parting words, he threw his walkie-talkie outside. Still unable to smile, he turned his back on his family, walking towards the trailer door. With great difficulty yet such willingness, he shoved the bookshelf away from the door.

  “No… No!” Gwen became weak, as she dropped
to her knees. Annabelle dropped down alongside her, cradling her mother in her arms. Miguel watched on in surprise at Elliot’s resolution.

  With the bookshelf now away from the door, Elliot took a deep breath. He firmly placed his hand on the door handle, and pulled it towards him. At first, the door gently and naturally came open, but then, Molotov cocktails and other makeshift fire bombs pounded against the door, forcing it open and knocking Elliot back.

  The carpet inside the trailer lit up, engulfing the bookshelf and the desk first, and then starting on the walls as well. Instead of crawling to safety, Elliot laid back against the floor, allowing the fire to surround him, flames licking at his feet.

  “No!” Gwen painfully cried and dragged out her distress. She tried to run back to help Elliot, but Annabelle firmly held her in her arms; though she herself was in tears as well. The two women watched as the trailer went completely ablaze, seemingly taking Elliot down to Hell with it.

  Miguel threw his hands over his head, turning around, gazing on across the night sky; the orange glow reflected off into the stars.

  “Damn…” He mumbled to himself, shaking his head in dismay…

  “And then I found you,” Ellie concluded Gwen’s story for her, with the relatively upbeat silver-lining.

  “Yes,” Gwen wiped her tears and looked over at her, “Yes, you did… My other daughter…” In the time passed, Gwen had taken Ellie on as her post-apocalyptic stepdaughter, almost as though she were a replacement for Elliot.

  “My two daughters: My Ellie, and my Annabelle,” Gwen’s emotional desperation had locked her into thinking of that positive; In her mind, they were her family now, and always were. Never ever was it ‘My Elliot, and my Annabelle’.

  “We’ll find her. We’ll find my sister,” Ellie reassured Gwen, making it clear that this familial love was two-way indeed. Their refusal to give up on Annabelle was perhaps, deluded…

  Chapter 19: Still Criminal

  Zach was terrified, his entire body was numb. His legs were taped together, as were his wrists, he also had a piece of tape over his mouth.

  His eyes were wide for quite some time, paying attention to every little movement his two kidnappers made. Still sporting their balaclavas, they stared directly into his eyes for the entire journey.

  The van was driving at an unusually high speed. Whoever was driving it clearly needed to get Zach away from the others as quickly as possible. The one question on Zach’s mind was: ‘Why?’

  “Is there anybody out there?” Zach spoke into his radio. It seemed the only thing ‘out there’ was the eerie silence of static.

  “Hello? Somebody?” He allowed several seconds to pass between each attempt, desperate for any sign of life to respond.

  But still, there was nothing. He shook his head in disbelief, and angrily threw the radio away from him.

  He looked around, and saw nothing but trees upon trees. “Road… Road…” He mumbled to himself, darting his gaze from left to right, searching for a main road.

  He produced a small compass from his pocket. He swung around, “The Camp is back that way…” He reminisced for several seconds, remembering the chaos which had broken out.

  “So this way… No, this way is… Wait… Dammit!” Again, Zach was all out of luck. The compass was useless to him. Like how he had done with the radio, he lobbed the compass with full power away from him.

  He dropped to the ground, and curled up into a ball.

  In the present day again, Zach slowly came around; it seemed as though he must’ve been knocked out at some point during the journey.

  Sitting on a turned-up beer crate, the kidnapper in front of him turned around in a snap-movement, calling out in German. A second German voice resonated back to him, as the two exchanged a conversation. The first kidnapper occasionally turned back to look at Zach, as though he were assessing his condition.

  “Wha… Who? Why? Why are you doing this?” Zach tried to form a question, though he was still clearly disorientated.

  “Hey? Hello? Do you speak English?” He was partially terrified, but also partially hopeful he had misinterpreted the situation.

  The first kidnapper said one last German phrase, before turning back to face Zach for good. He rose up off of the beer crate, and picked up a wooden plank from the ground next to him. He readied it, preparing to clobber Zach over the head with it…

  “Hey! Hey!” Zach screamed at the top of his lungs, sprinting through the trees, leaping over logs and plant overgrowth. He was headed towards the sound of a vehicle engine.

  With great joy, he could finally see a road. Carelessly, he ran out into the middle of it, desperately waving his arms about in a maniacal manner.

  As his eyes adjusted, he instantly recognised the three people in the SUV: It was Gwen, Annabelle, and Miguel.

  Zach could see Miguel – who was driving – mumble the words “Oh shit!” As he spun the wheel desperately to avoid colliding with Zach. It narrowly avoided crashing into a tree.

  A while later, Miguel had refuelled the vehicle. “Only two more cans left now… We’ll have to travel more carefully and with more certainty.” He informed Annabelle. She acknowledged what he was saying, though her priority was still tendering to her grieving mother, cradled in her arms. Noticing this, Miguel nodded remorsefully at her, then moved over to Zach, who sat alone, picking up and snapping sticks by the roadside.

  “Hey,” Miguel crouched down next to him, “Listen… I don’t suppose you came across Vanessa before you left the Camp did you?” Miguel asked him.

  Zach looked up at his worried expression, and shook his head, “No, I’m sorry.” He looked onwards, specifically at Annabelle and Gwen in the back of the SUV. “I have an idea of what’s happened, but please, put my mind at rest, is he dead?” Zach looked back at Miguel, in desperation for an answer.

  Miguel sighed and nodded, “Yeah. Elliot’s dead. We saw him die. He acknowledged the monster he’d become, and stayed behind in his trailer; he allowed himself to burn.”

  Zach looked back to the ground and swallowed hard. He was saddened for a few moments, whilst remembering how he and Elliot had initially met back in France. Though he then remembered who Elliot had become over the years,

  “Good,” he bluntly mumbled.

  The next time Zach came around, he found himself lying face down flat on a table. He could hear a metallic sound behind him, as though it were a zipper being pulled down. He then felt a pair of cold hands slide around his waist, towards his front. The hands moved down to his flies, unzipping them. The hands then peeled his trousers down slowly.

  Zach knew exactly what was about to happen. On top of everything that had happened in the apocalypse, this to him was by far the most frightening.

  There was a wince of pain behind him, though Zach himself felt nothing. This wince was then followed by the sound of someone collapsing to the ground. A look of confusion was cast upon Zach’s face. Still scared stiff, he slowly turned around.

  Behind him stood a young man, who also seemed to be in his late teens, with a baseball bat in one hand, while his other arm covered his eyes.

  “Could you please cover yourself so I can see again please?” The boy requested in, oddly, an American accent.

  Zach was puzzled for several moments, but then remembered what he was referring to. Hastily, Zach pulled his trousers back up.

  “Th… Thank you….” Part of Zach was still afraid and unnerved.

  “It’s ok.” The boy bluntly accepted, saying nothing more.

  Zach looked down at his kidnapper on the floor, who was cradling his head.

  “Come on, let’s go,” the boy motioned to Zach.

  “Wait,” Zach halted – he noticed his kidnapper had a knife holstered on his side. Zach slipped the knife out, then pressed the blade against his kidnapper’s throat.

  “No! What’re you doing? Killing is wrong!” The boy pleaded with Zach.

  “Are you serious?” Zach looked back at him in a fluster,
“It’s the god damn apocalypse!”

  The boy shook his head and lowered his eyebrows, “You must always act universally! Apocalypse or no apocalypse. Kantian ethics is what got me this far; acting in accordance with universal law – Look, you must always act as though what you are doing is acceptable in all scenarios. If you kill him, then that makes all killing acceptable.” The boy shared the philosophy which he followed.

  “So? Killing is acceptable nowadays?” Zach rebutted.

  “If you kill him, then that would make it ok for me you kill you as well.” The boy defended, “But it isn’t ok! You would only be acting as though it were.”

  “And if I kill him, would you really kill me? What would your ‘Kantian Ethics’ say to that?” Zach logically responded.

  The boy smiled and nodded at him, “Huh, I like you. You seem pretty cool and intelligent.” He complimented Zach, then offered him his hand, “I’m Brett. And you are?”

  Zach rose to his feet, “I’m Zach. Just like you, I’m not from around here.” He referred to both of their accents.

  “Of course not. Your accent is, French? Correct?” Brett asked. Zach nodded in affirmation.

  There was a German callout from another room.

  “Listen, Zach, we have to leave now. Come on, before they find us!” Brett grabbed Zach’s arm, as the two ran off. Acting in accordance with Brett’s Kantian ethics, Zach had left his kidnapper alive; albeit against his will.

  Gwen, Annabelle, Miguel, and Zach had all been holding up at a petrol station for the past week. Gwen was recovering from the ‘loss’ of Elliot, though she and her daughter were still not quite on the same page. To avoid awkwardness, Annabelle had been taken driving lessons from Miguel; part of her plan was to drive off, leaving her mother behind, and finding her own way once again.

  “I just… I don’t trust her; you know?” Gwen expressed her concerns to Zach whilst Annabelle and Miguel were out. “The moment she is confident in her ability to drive; I know she’ll just leave. Straight away, without any formal goodbye – Because she knows I wouldn’t let her go.” Gwen still knew her daughter at heart, despite the growing rift between the two.