The Charred Lands: City of Ash Page 13

  "Are we all set?" Julian asked, returning from the back of the building after relieving himself.

  "Looks like it." Penny called, dropping down to the ground, somehow landing on her feet and remaining perfectly balanced. I could only imagine myself falling flat on my face if I dropped from that height.

  "Did you see anything worth reporting?" Julian asked.

  "I saw two people earlier, it looked like they were both women. I didn't hear them say anything, and they both seemed to be in a rush, they passed straight by us. Other than that, I saw a few Volcveetles, but that's basically it." She explained, still stretching.

  "These women, which direction did they head in?"

  "Same as us - but don't worry, it was a few hours ago."

  "Didn't you think to call them over, so that we could protect them?"

  "There was something about one of them - she gave me a bad vibe, I thought about it but she gave me the creeps. I decided it would have been better to let them go on their way." She quickly responded, sounding a little defensive over her choice.

  "If we travel as fast as I'm hoping we do today, then we might be able to catch up with them." Julian said, without waiting for a response he took off walking towards Keith and Turnip who were arguing over something - it wasn't too heated this time though.

  Once again Julian was able to defuse their argument – Keith and Turnip seemed to argue like cat and dog, or husband and wife. I watched Julian stand between them and give Turnip a gentle slap over the back of the head like a disciplined child, all the while Julian’s words from last night continued to replay over and over in my mind. They certainly struck a chord, leaving me feeling a little lost and confused. I prayed that the feeling would shake, but the more and more I thought about his words, the worse the feeling got.

  Soon after Julian finished resolving the argument between the two men, he recalled the rest of the squad and we set off travelling again.

  Whilst walking, Julian explained a few important things to me. He gave me a few brief close quarter combat tips, as well as some general information about the tower. He said that it had once been used for both offices, and accommodation, and that it was the largest tower in all of Manchester; constructed only a few years before the Rise. Since then, it had taken on a lot of damage, not only from the people who were currently occupying it, but also Dragon’s. He explained that early on the military used it to fight off the Dragons from the city, and of course, were unsuccessful.

  He didn't really know how many hostiles we were likely to face, but he did say there was a small chance that survivors from Saviour of Man could still be held up inside – though he did say that this was unlikely, and growing more so with every passing second, the people we were readying to face weren’t the kind to take prisoners without good reason. Without any delays or detours, he had been hoping to arrive at the same time as another attack force – but with all things considered, this was now unlikely. Julian was the leader of two squads that had been sent to rescue their inner city outpost. Should the other team have been successful, then Julian said they surely would have sent the helicopter to at very least make him and his team aware of that. He, and the rest of the Brotherhood strongly believed that the other unit were dead, making us the last hope of recapturing the tower.

  As for the hostiles themselves, he didn’t know exactly how many there was going to be, but he sure as hell bet there would be easily ten times more of them than there was us. Of course, they weren't well trained like Julian and his team, or as well armed either; but they were absolute animals. Barbaric, murderous psychopaths who took pleasure in killing, and would always do their very best to ensure that you suffered a slow, agonising death. As for firepower, he expected them to have the usual; small guns, maybe the odd machine gun – however, there was always the chance that they may have been able to loot the corpses of any fallen Saviour of Man and take their superior firepower, which would of course cause a little problem, but despite all of this, Julian remained strangely optimistic.

  Despite Julian’s bizarre optimism, I couldn’t help but feel hopeless, I felt like we were marching to the fucking slaughter. We were out manned, and out gunned – but Julian and his band of warriors weren't going to go down without a fight.

  Every ounce of me was willing myself to look for an opportunity to slip away as we made our way down desolate, skeleton filled streets, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I spent a long duration of the walk in silence, ignoring all of the drab conversation going on around me; entirely focused on my own inner thinking’s that I had nobody to voice them too. My mind was full of past memories; family, friends, and enemies.

  I guess you could call it the calm before the storm – despite knowing what I was about to face, I felt strangely focused. I guess it could have been because there was still quite a way to walk before we reached the tower, but still – I felt unusually ready, considering that the odds were stacked up against us, I wasn’t too worried about the prospect of death, part of me suspected Julian’s rant last night had a hand in that, perhaps he was right. All around me too, people looked calm, but as we approached the looming tower in the middle of Manchester, their conversation slowly subsided to near nothing. I guess that made sense – they too were probably all taking these last few hours to reflect on things, mentally readying themselves, and preparing.

  Of course, Haven was thick in my mind; along with all its former residents – my family and friends. No matter how many steps I took from the place, I knew I'd never shake it. Nor would I ever shake the constant lingering rage I felt inside. Not just towards the monster that ruined it – but Timothy too. My own uncle who saw fit to murder my father – his own brother - over the egg that I held in my backpack. Deep down, I knew I'd never see anyone from Haven again – assuming anyone else made it out with their lives – yet still, I almost prayed that one day I would bump into Timothy, maybe even more so than I hoped to see the face of my own mother again. I knew now that I was ready for Timothy – I knew exactly what I would do if I ever came across the rat that murdered my dad; whereas the thought of seeing my mother again terrified me. I didn't know if she'd even recognise me anymore. I'm not the boy that left Haven that day – he's as dead as Haven itself. I'm someone else now, a new boy, or maybe almost even a man; moulded and crafted into something new by the harsh realities and the desperate requirements of the Charred Lands.

  “Are you sure you're ready for this?” Penny asked – straight away, from the sound of her voice, I knew it was addressed to me.

  At first I was tempted to shrug it off and tell her I was feeling fine, and that I was ready to charge into the largest building in the biggest city I had ever seen all guns blazing – but now that we were rapidly approaching the street that the building rested on, my nerves were growing, “Not really, but who the fuck cares.” I replied, almost laughing – more so from the nerves than anything.

  “It's natural. At least you're with us.” She smiled, giving me a playful shove. I appreciated that, it was a change to hear a friendly voice, it had been a while, perhaps it was the first truly friendly voice I had heard since Lizzie's, way back in Warrington.

  “Right guys – I want silence from in on out.” Julian called from the front of our seven man squad, stopping our conversation dead in its tracks. At first I didn't know why, until I looked up… the tower was on the next street over.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  We decided to play it safe and quietly slipped into a dark narrow alleyway between two of terraced houses. We quietly crept to a house which was situated at around the middle of the street, with its front facing the tower. One by one we climbed up and over the small brick wall of its back garden and snuck up to the back of the house. As though it had been made of paper, Keith put the old rotten backdoor through with one swift boot.

  Kelvin and Mark quickly flooded inside the house with their secondary weapons at the ready, I stood at the back door, peering in as they went from room to room with perfect pr
ecision. They must have done this a thousand times over – before long they returned from upstairs and reported that the house was all clear; and with that, we all entered, whilst Turnip remained at the back to keep watch.

  The house itself was very similar to the one that I had stayed in back in Warrington, with Lizzie and Conrad. Except this place gave me the chills. The one in Warrington had been used as a bed and breakfast in recent years, a place where Lynette would let travellers stay for a while, but this place had remained exactly as it had been before the Rise. The walls were lined with countless pictures of a three generation, smiling family. From the oldest at the back, with grey hair and a wrinkly face, to the fresh faced children at the front. It pained me to see them, all stood together, dressed up smart and looking happy. They reminded me so much of my family; my Grandpa, my Mum and Dad, and my brothers and sisters. I missed them all so, so much. I had to force myself to look away from the picture covered walls.

  Despite Mark and Kelvin already searching the place, we all took it slow and cautiously as we made our way upstairs. We quickly headed to the main bedroom at the front of the house, the large double window gave us a perfect view of the street ahead, and the tower on the other side of the main road.

  I was so transfixed by the size of the tower that I didn’t realise that we had company in the room. I almost froze when I spotted the two skeletal remains lay on the bed, side by side, with their hands intertwined in an embrace of love. An old, empty bottle of tablets lay on the grey, stained sheets besides them. There was something strangely peaceful about the sight. I knew exactly what this was. Unlike the countless suicides I had seen in the past, this one didn’t look painful, nor was it a gory mess; instead, it looked as though these two lay down together, locked hands, and slowly drifted off into a never ending sleep together, peacefully wasting away as the world around them descended into chaos and madness. This couple chose to avoid that – they chose to die together.

  “Can you see anything?” Keith asked as he and Julian crouched by the old, dusty window. It was hard to see through, years of dirt and bird shit had stained the glass, making it nearly impossible to see through. With the sleeve of his jacket, Julian gave the window a quick wipe. Most of the dirt was on the other side of the glass, but it made it a little easier to see through. For a few seconds he didn't say a word, instead he remained where he was, peering through the glass, surveying every single inch of the building with his usual cunning stare.

  “I see guards by the main entrance, but that's it.” He mumbled – more to himself than anybody else.

  “Wait…” Julian quickly added, suddenly looking a lot more interested. I did my best to try and peer through the cloudy window to get a view of what had startled him. I recognised them the second I laid my eyes on the pair. It was Azaria, and she had company - the woman that had been relentlessly perusing her and Wayne when I stumbled across them. Finally her disappearance made sense. I hadn't spared as much as a single minute to ponder over Azaria since she vanished from the stockroom back on the outskirts of Manchester. I assumed she high tailed it out of there because she couldn't stand to be with the guy that had murdered her boyfriend, but now; by the looks of it, I was wrong. I didn't know how, but even after her encounter with the Volcveetle, the crazed marauder from Anarchy's Children had still wound up finding her.

  Azaria was her captive now, she walked with her hands above her head as the disfigured woman stuck a gun to the back of her head. She quickly led her up the many steps of the tower, right up to the armed guards at the front, and disappeared inside.

  “They’ve got captives.” Keith mumbled.

  “Well that’s Anarchy’s Children for you. Whenever they settle somewhere new they begin capturing the locals. None of their atrocities are more profitable than the slave trade.” Julian explained, he spoke as though the very name of the Anarchy’s Children was poison on his tongue.

  “I know that girl, and the captor, I killed three of her men and rescued two people from her.” I couldn’t help but say, instantly the others in the room turned to face me. They all stared at me, waiting for me to continue, “I stumbled across a group of four of them on the motorway leading to Manchester, and I snuck up and killed three of them. The girl that was held at gunpoint was with her boyfriend at the time, I rescued them until I lost the girl when I entered Manchester. I assumed she ran away, but that bitch must have got her again.” I added.

  “Good work, kid. Sending even one of them bastards to the grave is making this God forsaken world a little more bearable.” Julian smirked, sparking a round of laugh from the others. They all quickly turned their attention back to the tower.

  “We’ll make sure to rescue that girl for you, Zach. It shouldn’t be too hard to get past the guards at the front if we do it quickly and quietly.”

  “Maybe there's less than we thought?” Keith replied, twiddling his great big beard.

  “There's going to be more, a lot more. Just because we can't see them, doesn't mean they're not there. I've spent my entire post teen life fighting these people, I never underestimate them. That's why I'm alive.” Julian explained with a harshness in his voice, before rising to his feet.

  “When are we hitting them?” Kelvin asked from the hallway.

  “Not just yet – I think we should all have one last meal together, it's relatively safe in here, so I'll set up the table, someone else grab Turnip from outside. We could have our own little last supper.” He said with a smile on his face and a swagger to his stride. He almost trotted out of the bedroom and made his way downstairs.

  “Food sounds good.” Penny smiled.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  We gathered in the kitchen downstairs and all sat around a large wooden table. Despite the years of neglect, the chairs were firm and held. The house looked as though it had once been quite smart with expensive, sturdy furniture. Julian set out seven plates that he found in the dusty cupboards around the table. This particular house had somehow remained almost completely untouched since the Rise, it didn’t look as though a single person had disturbed the place since its two occupants passed away in the front bedroom, all those years ago.

  Every single face around the table lit up as Julian placed down a large amount of peas and carrots on each plate. I had heard him talking about these countless times before, he had picked them himself from his private garden back at his home. He said he was saving them for a rainy day. It looked as though Julian saw a rainy day rapidly approaching, and the thick grey rain clouds took the shape of the large tower that loomed across the street, like a gravestone of metal and glass that seemed to stretch all the way up to God himself.

  “Aren't they just the nicest thing you've ever eaten?” Julian said with a warmth of pride in his voice – he smiled as he watched us all dig into the two basic vegetables that he had picked himself. Back in haven these would have been nothing more than a side dish, but right now, they were magnificent. I nodded in response to him as I shoved another fork full of the little green peas into my mouth.

  “I don’t usually bring stuff like this on missions with me, but they matured really nicely and I thought we’d appreciate them at some point.”

  “The best decision you've ever made.” Kelvin laughed.

  “So...” Julian said, the smile faded from his face somewhat, the entire mood of the room quickly shifted, replacing the relative laid back atmosphere with that of unease, I had a bad feeling about what was to come.

  “I guess now would be a good time to wish you all the best of luck. What we're about to do takes balls, but we all know how important this is. Once we clear it out, we can reclaim that helicopter and get the hell out of here.”

  “What if they've broke it?” Mark said, still eating.

  “Then we'll fix it. There was a team of mechanics at the tower, they’ve probably all been slaughtered now, but their tools will be there either way. The sooner we get this fixed and high tail it out of there, the sooner we can head home to our fami
lies.” Julian explained. It was strange, up until that moment I hadn't considered that any of these people had a family; girlfriends, wives, siblings, or children. They seemed like brutish soldiers and nothing more, it was hard to imagine them with a family back at wherever they resided. Of course, Julian had already told me about his, but it wasn’t until that exact moment that I noticed the wedding ring around his finger.

  “I can't wait to see my little boy.” Keith smiled. I could have sworn I saw a tear in his big, scary eyes. He put his fork down and blissfully stared at the place for a while, with a lonesome look on his face; a stark contrast to his usual brutish ways.

  “I'm sorry you had to miss his birthday, Keith – but I promise you, once this mission is done you'll all be granted a nice, long pardon from action. Hell, you all will.” He said, sparking a wave of cheers and smiles from his people, but none more so than Keith.

  “I swear to God if I don’t find a girl to cuddle up to at night once we’re back there, then I guess I’ll finally cave in and warm one of your beds for a while.” Penny laughed, only adding to the smiles around the table.

  “Well make sure you head straight to Turnip, I heard he’s never even been with a woman, isn’t that right?” Kelvin teased, giving a red faced Turnip a nudge.

  “Look at me, I got these scars when I was three years old. You think anyone’s going to touch me?” He retorted, dragging the room into a brief moment of silence, all eyes were locked on Turnip and his disfigured, burnt skin.

  “He’s not my type.”

  “Well of course, he’s got a dick.” Keith bellowed out, spraying a shower of spit across the table as he banged down on the table like some kind of gorilla.

  “Well yeah, but I mean… if I liked dick. I don’t think he’d be my type.” She laughed.

  “Well, what about him?” Mark grinned from across the table, nodding at me. I felt everyone’s eyes fall to me, instantly I began to feel myself grow red in the face as I found myself the centre of attention.