The Charred Lands: Apocalypse of Fire (11 page)

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 stretch 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.