The Charred Lands: Apocalypse of Fire Read online

  I turned to them, my face red with embarrassment at my tears. I felt like a child again, facing the wrath of my older sister, Ruby.

  “You really don’t look ready to me.” Phil laughed, kicking out my hand from underneath me. I fell to the black charred grounds below, instantly inhaling residue, I began to cough ferociously as I stood back to my feet. It was at that moment that I had had enough. Without so much as giving them a warning I reached into my belt and pulled out my handgun, I began to swing it in Phil’s direction first, but before I could so much as get him in my sights Oliver grabbed my arm and knocked the gun from my grasp.

  I let out a cry of pain as he twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me down to my knees once again. He pushed and pushed on my arm, it felt ready to pop out of its joint at any given moment.

  “Big mistake that, boy.” Oliver whispered as he forced me onto the ground. Once again I inhaled a great deal of soot, provoking yet another barrage of coughs which caused my throat and lungs to burn as though the dragon itself had set fire to them. Only then did I remember my cargo. The egg.

  “Stop, I’m just a boy.” I screamed as Oliver continued to bend my arm, still it didn’t pop out of place. Once again tears filled my eyes, I felt ashamed of admitting what I really was – a boy. A weak, pathetic child stuck alone in The Charred Lands. I hadn’t been alone out here for even twenty-four hours and already it looked as though I had fucked it. I had done nothing but make mistake after mistake, which had lead me to this very situation.

  Beside me, Phil picked up my gun and started to inspect it.

  “Wait, Oliver WAIT!” He suddenly said, though I could barely hear him over the sounds of my own screams. By now Oliver had placed a knee on my back and was continuing to slowly bend my arm further and further backwards, I felt ready to pass out from the pain, but just before it reached unbearable levels, he suddenly stopped and let go of my arm completely, it fell uselessly by my side, numbed by pain.

  “What?” He asked, annoyed as though distracted from his favourite pastime.

  “This gun has the same markings as the other ones that we found.” Phil said with his voice as cold as ice. I instantly knew what he was talking about, every Haven weapon had a small emblem scratched into it, an image designed by my father himself. It was an idea that several of the leaders had hatched, as to keep track of all our weapons. Should somebody go missing on a recon, and a stranger turned up with a gun with a Haven symbol on it, we would know something was amiss. Pretty smart if you ask me.

  “Give me that thing.” Oliver spat, snatching the weapon from his companions hands.

  “Where did you get this from?” He said, turning back to me, once again the smile returned to his face. This man was able to switch and change his emotions at the click of a finger, only a few seconds ago he seemed intent on ripping my arm from shoulder, yet now he seemed like a caring friend or family member. It sickened me.

  “My home.” I said, once again deciding there was no use in lying, Haven had already been destroyed anyway, no good would come from hiding its location to these people.

  “Interesting.” Oliver said. For a second he looked as though deep in thought, before suddenly striking me on the back of the head with the butt of the gun, for the third time I collapsed onto the black soot of the destroyed woods - this time unconscious.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “He’s coming to.” Was the first thing I heard as my consciousness slowly began to return to me. I felt paralyzed, completely unable to move. I couldn’t see a thing either, as though blind. The world was cast in darkness, but I could hear everything well. I could hear birds singing in the distance, fire crackling, and what sounded like Oliver and Phil mumbling to each other.

  Suddenly I felt somebody pull the bag from over my head. The world came into view, the camp fire several feet away, though small, almost blinded me. I squinted against the brightness of the fire as I desperately began to examine my surroundings. It was dusk; the sun was setting in the distance, casting the sky in red glow.

  I was in the middle of a small camp, below the feet of a small cliff. To my left was a cave entrance, the path leading down it was well trodden, as was the area outside of the mouth of the cave. These people had been living here. I was sat on an old, creaky wooden chair. Both my legs and hands had been tied and bound, at least that explained why I had felt paralysed - for a moment I had begun to worry that the knock to the head may have done some permanent damage. A fire crackled a few feet away, though none of the warmth it emitted reached me. Across the flames sat two others, silent and unmoving, just like me, they were tied to a chair each. I recognised them instantly.

  The missing Olsen’s. I never thought I would see the two of them alive again. Kyle and Amy had been with their Dad on the recon to Barry Deer’s. Amy was only a year older than me. At least, in some strange way, being out here kidnapped by these two psychopaths prevented them from perishing with Haven and the rest of their family. Everyone at Haven had assumed the pair was dead, especially after the discovery of their father’s burnt corpse. But all along, they were here, being held captive by Phil and Oliver.

  “Recognise them?” Oliver smiled, kneeling down in front of me. He grabbed me by the hair and twisted my head in their direction to make sure I got a good look at the pair.

  “Yes, yes I fucking do.” I said, with venom in my words and hatred in my eyes.

  “Good.” Oliver smiled, before rising to his feet. He slowly began to walk around the camp fire for a few moments before speaking again. All the while, Phil sat slouched in an old camping chair, smoking a large, white cigarette. Though I had never seen one in real life, Grandpa had told me all about them.

  “Now, neither of these little rascals will tell me about their home. But perhaps now, you will.” Oliver explained as he continued to circle around the fire, staring into the flames and its burning embers.

  “No matter what I did to these two, no matter how many bones I broke, how many teeth I ripped out, or how many times I raped them, they wouldn’t tell me where the fuck they came from. Pretty admirable, right?” Oliver said, stopping dead in front of the pair. Still, neither of them moved.

  “This one’s dead.” He called, giving Kyle a slap. His limp, dangling head rocked side to side for a moment.

  “But she’s got a bit of fight in her.” Phil called from his chair, his voice sounding deep, almost as though on the brink of coughing. He seemed impossibly mellow and chilled.

  “Yup. That’s right. This bitch is still breathing. And, since you come from the same place, I’m going to guess that you want her to remain that way, right? So you best start talking, you best tell me every god damn thing you know about your home.” Oliver said, pulling out a knife and placing it by her throat. He turned his head to face me, a smile of crooked, rotten teeth split his cheeks. A smile thick with evil, hatred and horror. It was the smile synonymous with The Charred Lands.

  “I’ll tell you everything.” I said, without hesitation. Haven was no use to us now, if only Kyle and Amy knew that before they allowed themselves to be tortured for its safety. It pained my heart to know that Kyle had given his life to protect me, my family and everyone else at Haven.

  “That’s a good boy. I would hate to have to spill this girls insides all over the place. I don’t fancy getting blood on my polo shirt, took me ages to find this bad boy.” He laughed as he strutted over towards me.

  “So, shoot.” He smiled, kneeling down in front of me once again. For a moment I remained silent, thinking of just exactly what to tell him about the home that I grew up in.

  I began telling him about Haven. I told him of the people who lived there, the defences we had, the supplies we kept, I told him of the animals roaming the fields, the harpoon catapult, I told him everything. Everything except that it had been destroyed. I decided I would let him find that part out for himself.

  “Brilliant.” He said after I finished my long winded explanation of Haven. He stood up, let out a st
retch and made his way across the camp fire.

  “Thank you ever so much for the advice - the crackers too. I haven’t had any of these for quite some time” He laughed.

  Only then did I remember my backpack. It was loaded with supplies, food grown in haven and such. Plus something else, something that my entire future seemed to depend on. The egg.

  “What have you done with the egg?!” I snapped. I needed that egg if I was ever going to live a comfortable life in The Charred Lands, though with each passing second, I knew that it seemed less and less likely that I was going to escape here with my life.

  “Oh that. Quite an interesting thing that is. We can’t for the life of us work out what it could belong to. It’s a big old thing, but either way it’s going to be our tea.” He laughed, before disappearing inside the mouth of the cave.

  “NO! You can’t!!” I screamed, desperately rocking back in my forth in a bid to free an arm or leg. Phil sat up in his chair a little, gun in hand. Even if I did manage to break free, he would shoot me down before I even managed to stand up. Defeated, I stopping trying – it was no good.

  “What are you doing with an egg of that size?” Phil asked, deciding it was his turn to ask the questions – I didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer. No matter what I said, he wasn’t going to change his mind. These two were having fun with me, plain and simple.

  “I guess there’s some kind of agreement we can come to.” Phil finally added after realising I wasn’t going to reply. Now he had my attention.

  “What?”

  “Would you like me to tell Oliver not to destroy the egg?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair to face me.

  “What’s the catch?” I asked, there was always a catch with these two.

  “Yes, or no.” He growled, done with playing.

  “Yes.” I sighed, reluctantly. I prepared myself for the consequences.

  “Oliver, get back out here. I’ve came to an agreement with our friend here.” He hollered, relaxing back into his chair.

  “Oh brilliant!” Oliver replied, as he skipped back from the cave, now shirtless. His body was riddled with scars; bullet wounds, stab wounds and burns.

  “He was ever so cooperative.” Phil explained, mocking me in a fake, overly posh accent.

  “That’s awfully nice of him.” Oliver replied, with the same accent.

  “He’s given us permission to dine upon his friend, on this fine night.” Phil said.

  At first I didn’t comprehend exactly what he had said. It wasn’t until Phil stood behind Kyle’s body that it came to me.

  “What? No! You can’t do that!” I spat, rocking in my chair once again. My wrists were beginning to sting as I pulled against the rope, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t just sit here and watch them eat my friend’s corpse. Though Kyle had been twenty-eight years old, he had always been pretty cool with me. He was always up for having a laugh with me as I grew up, I almost thought of him as a brother at times.

  “But you already agreed, didn’t you?” Oliver asked, faking a look of confusion on his face. He knelt down besides Kyle’s chair and began to cut at the rope with a sharp hunting knife.

  “Not to this!” I spat.

  “Well I’m afraid it’s already been decided, my friend.” He said, before pushing the body forward. I could only sit and watch with wide eyes as Kyle’s body fell face first into the camp fire. I was half expecting him to jump from the flames, but of course, he didn’t. Instead the body lay there, the fire slowly cooking and consuming it.

  The smell of burning flesh seeped up my nostrils, had my stomach not been empty, I would likely have thrown up, though it didn’t stop me from gagging. I couldn’t help but watch as the flames turned his skin to brown, then black as it cooked his corpse. Finally, I couldn’t take anymore; I turned my head and let out a scream as tears began to run down my face.

  “Can’t handle a little barbeque? If you’re ever going to survive out here you’ll need to get used to a little barbeque.” Phil laughed. I didn’t know what to make of that statement. Sure, there was good chance he was just toying with me, but what if he wasn’t? What if people really did need to resort to this to survive out in The Charred Lands? If the world really was this barbaric, surely Grandpa had left out some details of what the world is really like, for fear of scaring my young, fragile mind. What if Phil and Oliver aren’t just a pair of psychopaths? What if everyone was like this? Do I really want to live in a world where people will murder for information? Where people are forced to eat other humans just to survive? I didn’t know.

  “Don’t worry, we’re not going to ask you to eat your pal. We’ll ease you into it. A lot of people are grossed out at the thought of eating a human, but it’s actually quite tasty, if cooked right of course.” Oliver said, taking a seat beside me as Phil tended to Kyle’s cindering corpse.

  “Good.” I said through gritted teeth. The tears that had fell down my face had grown cold in the nights air, I wanted to desperately to brush them away but the rope around my hands prevented me from doing so.

  “I know. You’ll come to love us, don’t worry. We might seem a little whacky right now, but we’ll have you trained up to be just like us in no time.” Oliver said, patting me on the knee. His statement numbed me to my core.

  “Train me?” I managed to say.

  “Yeah. Since you were ever so helpful in giving us clear, precise directions and information about your home, we’ve decided we can’t kill you. We’re going to be the three amigos. The three musketeers.” He smiled. Without warning he sent a stiff right first crashing into my face. He connected just below my left eye socket, my head jerked sideways from the impact.

  “Lesson one,” He said, his voice suddenly as serious as death.

  “You don’t cry. If you do cry, I’ll hit you again. So don’t cry.” He said, keeping both fists clenched. I could only stare at him scornful eyes, desperately trying to fight back a second wave of tears. I bit my tongue to distract myself. I felt blood begin to fill my mouth.

  “I won’t.” I said, firmly – spitting out blood in front of Oliver’s feet.

  “Attaboy!” He smiled, rubbing me on the shoulder like a pet.

  “For that, I shall allow you to eat. Some of your own tinned food, or Kyle?” He asked, with a sinister laugh.

  “Something canned.” I replied.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They didn’t give me any food. Instead Oliver made me watch him stuff his face as he stood right in front of me, purposely spilling most of it on the floor. Shortly afterwards, they took both me and Amy into the caves, - still tied to our chairs - and left us there in complete darkness. All the while Amy had remained unconscious, was it not for her slow, steady breathing, I would have thought her dead. Her body was riddled with the marks of their cruelty. I couldn’t imagine the horrors she had been subjected too - I couldn’t help but think that I may soon be seeing them first hand. I could only pray that she had been unconscious for most of it.

  Shortly after placing Amy and I inside the cave, Oliver and Phil made their way off to search for Haven. They took plenty of ammunition and decided to use the cover of darkness to aid them. They were going to be bitterly disappointed to arrive and find the place destroyed. There would no doubt still be some salvageable stuff, weapons from the barn mostly – but most of the food stock would have been destroyed when the dragon crushed our house. Very little of anything important was ever left in the shack like homes either, so I couldn’t imagine them finding anything of use in there. Part of me felt bad for sending this pair to rifle through the possessions of my more than likely deceased friends. I couldn’t help but imagine them searching through all of Florence’s things like her clothes and other little personal artefacts. And that was the first time she had popped into my mind. I felt an enormous sense of guilt.

  Florence had meant so much to me, but with everything going on, and all of the loss that I’ve suffered, she found herself at the back of my mind with other
trivial worries. It was my fault she was in that house when the dragon came crashing down. My fault. I told her to stay in there, and now she was gone – I had hardly given her a passing thought. Once again, tears filled my eyes. I thought back to what Oliver said. Maybe in some sick, twisted way he was right. You don’t cry out here. You can’t cry out here. You can’t afford to be weak – being weak gets you killed

  But I was weak. I knew it.

  At that moment, I loathed myself. I wished I was more like my Dad, my brother or even Timothy. They had the guts to make the hard decisions, hold it together like men and fight. I was a book worm, a child. For less than a day I was on my own, and already I’m pretty much fucked.

  “Hello?” A voice called out. At first I was surprised to find Oliver and Phil back so quickly, I had been lost deep in thought for what felt like hours, perhaps time had passed a lot quicker than I had thought, but then I realised - this was a new voice.

  “Hello!?” I repeated back to them, suddenly filled with enthusiasm.

  “They’re in here!” I heard the man call to somebody else. I was facing away from the entrance to the pitch black cave, but if I twisted my neck as far as it could bend, I could see a rather large silhouette standing at the mouth of the cave. The guy’s voice was deep and assured, every time he spoke his voice echoed off the walls of the cave, almost seeming to shake them. There was no doubt in my mind that this was an extremely big man. Despite this, I got the feeling that he wasn’t hostile. It filled me with hope.

  Suddenly a light was shone into the cave. I had been sat in complete darkness so long that the light almost blinded me. I wanted desperately to shield my eyes, but for obvious reasons, couldn’t.

  “I’m here to help you.” The voice said, a hushed whisper now.

  I felt great big hands place themselves on my shoulder before I heard my hero lean down and start messing with the ropes which bound my legs to the chair.