The Wrath of David Read online

  The closer they swam towards the shore, the rougher and more violent the waves seemed to be getting as a gathering windstorm brushed in from the north. Soon, the darkness had engulfed them entirely. Combined with the ferocious waves crashing down around them, throwing them this way and that like two rag dolls, it was a terrifying ordeal.

  When he wasn't shaking the seawater from his eyes, David could make out rocks and reefs now, dozens of them, jutting out from the water in almost every direction. As the waves became far too big and monstrous to handle, the only option David had left was to brace himself as best he could and ride out the waves, praying to the universe to be washed up upon the rocky shores sooner rather than later and in one whole, living, breathing piece.

  Louise screamed and yelled every time a gigantic wave pounded down upon them. She feared that every gulping breath she took before going underneath the water for the umpteenth time would be her last. The strong, never-ending, out-of-control waves continued pushing and shoving David and Louise closer to the rocky shore. They missed one large reef after another, some by only inches.

  When a larger series of rocks emerged from the darkness just in front of the pair, David desperately tried to cling onto the first of them for all his life's worth. But the weight of Louise on his back and the force of the next onslaught of waves, which lifted and dragged him this way and that, were far too great a force for him to get a good, solid grasp on any of the slippery rocks now passing them by.

  Soon, another gigantic wave carried them up before slamming them violently against another large, jagged rock. David had just a few seconds to see the impact coming before swiftly turning his back to the solid rock face in the nick of time to protect Louise from going over his shoulders and smashing head first into it.

  David's own neck and spine took most of the brutal impact and almost instantly he was rattled unconscious. Louise screamed and roared for her life while gasping for air every chance she got and every time her head bobbed above the water. When she realised that David was knocked out for the count, she grabbed a firm hold of his front slumped side as another huge wave lifted them farther towards the rocky shore. The whole time they drifted closer to the beach, Louise did her utmost to keep David's head well above the water line.

  Louise continued screaming and yelling to the high heavens, bringing her desperate cries to a shuddering halt only when she was finally able to place her feet upon the firm, rocky ground beneath the water. For a moment she was utterly stunned but greatly relieved that the water and waves were only up to her chest. With the back of David's head still tucked firmly against her stomach, she shoved her arms underneath his armpits, then slowly but surely, with all the strength left in her body, desperately dragged and pulled David up and onto the pebbled shore.

  Once she had managed to drag him out of the sea and a good safe distance away from the lapping tide, she dropped him to the ground before collapsing right on top of him. Less than a minute later, she had fallen into a deep and exhausted sleep.

  ***

  David awoke first. The sun had just risen from beyond the forested part of the beach directly behind him, although the thick, bushy trees still hid its rays. It would be a good few hours before they shone well above the tree line.

  Immediately David felt his body aching all over. Every single muscle, bone and fibre underneath his skin had been severely tested to its limit and then some the previous night. With hazy, half-open eyes, he felt strangely heavier than usual, like some kind of lead weight or large boulder had fallen upon his body during the night and now covered his entire mid section, pinning him to the pebbled shore where he lay.

  When he opened his eyes a little wider and crooked his neck to look down towards his stomach, he found himself pleasantly surprised to find Louise snuggled on top of his chest, both her exhausted arms draped around him.

  David sighed and then gradually began to remove Louise's arms from around his upper body. He carefully slid her head and shoulders off his chest and stomach. Louise groaned at his movements, but still didn't fully wake. Finally, David was able to lie her back down again, on her side this time, upon the pebbled shore to continue her deep sleep and sweet dreams.

  Cautiously, he stood. He'd never felt so stiff and sore in his life, but he knew his aching joints would quickly ease themselves just as soon as he started moving around and got his blood flowing.

  David took a moment to study the landscape – the sea, the rocky pebbled beach, the thick forests behind him. He raised his aching arms and touched the sides of his bruised and bloodied face, flinching at the pain.

  After he washed his face in the sea, he turned his attention to the soaking wet but still intact rucksack strapped to Louise's back. He was surprised, then relieved, to find that it was still in one piece and not torn to shreds, its contents scattered at the bottom of the Irish Sea.

  David crouched and unzipped the second pocket. He was pleased to find his large hunting knife strapped to the inside, but then he noticed his handgun was missing along with all the bullets. When he put his hand farther into the bag to investigate, his fingers poked out through a ripped hole in the bottom corner of the bag, big enough for a small handgun to slip out into the sea and never be seen again.

  David let out a weary sigh and stood back up. He shoved his knife firmly into the back of his trouser belt before making his way towards the nearby forest.

  ***

  From the camouflaged cover of a high and thick tree branch, David watched as a bright, plump and bushy little pheasant plodded around in the grass and weeds of the forest floor below.

  As the pheasant edged closer to the trunk of the tree which David was perched upon, he readied himself to strike. When the bird finally plodded underneath his path, David didn't waste a second in pouncing down on top of it, pinning the big bird against the floor with his hands and knees, and raising his knife to slice its throat.

  David walked back through the woods in the general direction of the sea, the dead pheasant dangling from his hand by his side. Suddenly, he heard the faint yet distinct cries of a large group of people, some sobbing, some crying out in fear for their lives. Next, he heard a gunshot, followed by another, shattering the peaceful, natural hum of the forest.

  David was quick to react. He ran swiftly but cautiously through the forest and towards the direction of the gunfire and commotion. Eventually, he came to the edge of a clearing where he stopped just shy of the final row of trees and bushes. He crouched low to get a better look at what was going on.

  A group of at least a dozen white males, dressed like hunters and carrying all kinds of guns, surrounded a hidden campsite of mostly ethnic-looking men, women and children. Some even lay dead, clearly having been shot on the outskirts of the clearing, probably for trying to do a runner.

  As far as David could tell, a fit, middle-aged man with a big grey moustache was the group’s leader. The man pointed to an out-of-place, tan-skinned couple sitting amongst a group of Asian and black men and women.

  “Bring those two to me.” The man bellowed his orders at two younger white male hunters, also armed with guns. They grabbed the young couple, both by the roots of their hair, and yanked them to their feet. The couple yelled, cried and struggled profusely as they were violently dragged towards the leader and forced onto their knees directly in front of him. The rest of the ethnic group could do nothing but watch in fear at the events unfolding before their eyes. Those with children huddled and held them close while keeping their heads bowed down and their ears covered.

  “You speak English, huh?” said the leader.

  The tan-skinned couple glared at each other but didn't say a word. The leader then motioned with his eyes to one of the young hunters. The first of them smacked the man, followed by the woman, over their heads with his handgun. The man began bleeding from the top of his head.

  “Where are you from, you pair of cunts? You're obviously not British if you're not fucking talking,” demanded the leader.
/>   The couple sniffed and sobbed. Then, finally, the man spoke.

  “We are ... we are from Spain.”

  The leader smirked at that. So did the other two young armed hunters.

  “Bullshit. Take the girl,” the leader demanded.

  The second hunter grabbed the young woman by her hair and forcefully shoved his gun down her throat.

  “Where the hell are you from, fuck nuts, or I splatter your girl’s pretty little head all over the grass,” the leader demanded.

  “Romania, okay? Please. We are from Romania.”

  The leader just smiled before chuckling. “Of course you are. And hey, you didn't really think we were gonna kill this pretty little girl now, did you, huh? What a fucking waste that would be,” he said with a sinister chuckle. “You must think we're a right bunch of fucking savages, huh?”

  “Please. We just want to go home,” pleaded the young man. “We just want to go home.”

  The leader motioned for the other two hunters to take away the girl. “Put her in the back of the truck for the journey home,” said the leader without flinching. “They need a good fucking stress relief after the long morning we've had looking for these fucking cunts.”

  The two young hunters gave a sick and knowing grin before dragging the girl, kicking and screaming, towards the other armed hunters on the other side of the clearing.

  The Romanian man began raging like a wild animal. He screamed, spat and roared at the young girl in Romanian before angrily clambering to his feet. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

  “Please, no,” he started crying in English. “She is with child.” The Romanian man continued to scream and roar. “Please ... no.”

  The leader chuckled again. He seemed almost amused at the Romanian man's antics. After a delayed pause, he shot the Romanian man in the side of the head, killing him out right. He then took a long, deliberate sip from his water bottle, thinking nothing more about the lifeless body lying on the ground beneath his feet. The Romanian woman screamed even more hysterically as she was dragged farther away.

  Behind the trees and bushes of the west side of the clearing, David continued watching the tragic and horrific scenes play out. He gripped the handle of his knife so hard, his knuckles turned white. One by one, he glanced at all the armed men standing around the group of immigrant refugees. He knew there was absolutely nothing he could do.

  They would gun him down before he'd slid his knife out of his first victim’s throat. No, someone else's hatred and revenge would have to be born from this carnage. They would have to rise up and claim some kind of justice for the actions that unfolded there that day. It was hard to believe, but there were much worse people out there in the new country than the solders standing in front of David right at that second – much worse. And one day, they would all get what was coming to them. Everyone had to die eventually.

  But as for those cruel men, fortunately for them, that day would not be today. And not by David's hand. For he had his own selfish revenge and vendetta agendas to see through first, and well before anyone else was due a look in.

  After downing most of his water, the leader let out a noisy gasp. He then stepped over the dead man's body, which was missing half its head, to address the rest of the group of immigrants. Most of whom were quietly sobbing in fear for their lives. All of them sat with their heads bowed.

  “Didn't we do well to find this little clusterfuck of refugees hiding out here in our woods?” the leader bellowed, another big grin on his face. “Now. On my order you will all stand to your fucking feet and we will begin making our way to the trucks on the other side of the forest. You hear me, you sad sacks of shit? Oh, and anyone who doesn't stand up when I say ‘stand up’ will be instantly shot dead where they sit.”

  The surrounding hunters all raised their guns a little higher, some even cocking them.

  “And those who'd like to make a run for it and actually manage to make it into those woods back there this time, will be hunted down, have both their arms and legs sawn off and whatever's left of their carcass will be dangled from a tree for the birds and bees to have their wicked way with. So, everyone, stand the fuck up,” roared the leader.

  With that command, every single one of the refugees stood to their feet. The leader let out another huge grin. “Oh, I think you're all gonna really enjoy your new home up in Glasgow. It's gonna be a hell of lot less green up there, too.”

  David continued watching the charade in utter silence. Once the refugees had started to move, ushered on by the hunters, he glanced at the dead pheasant still hanging from his clutched palm. The bird's blood had smeared all over his hand and fist, right down to his fingertips before dripping onto the long, dry grass below. The whole time he'd been crouched there, he hadn't even noticed the dripping.

  David took a deep breath and gently shook his head. He then quitely stepped back into the thick cover of the forest.

  ***

  Louise awoke from her sleep and yawned heavily. The first thing she noticed when she opened her eyes was how bright the sun was shining above the tree line of the nearby forest. Lying there felt so calm and tranquil; she could feel the full, shining warmth of the sun on her face and she never wanted that feeling to end.

  Then a strange thought occurred to her – she couldn't remember the last time she'd done that, just laid flat out in the fresh air and sunshine, letting the warmth of the sun’s rays engulf her entire body.

  Then she did remember.

  It had been three summers ago while camping out at St Mary's Loch down in the Scottish borders near Selkirk. She remembered camping out with her family back then and it had been so much fun, fishing, swimming, playing Frisbee on the loch shore, cooking barbeques, playing with her brothers, sunbathing with her mother. For one surreal moment, Louise actually believed that she was back there again as she continued feeling that warm glowing sunshine on her face.

  Even when she sat up and the smell of a nearby smoky fire filled her lungs, she half-expected her father to be smiling back at her from a nearby barbeque, cheerfully asking her to come over quickly and help cook the steaks and sausages.

  Louise opened her eyes and glanced over the pebbled beach to see David sitting beside a small fire, roasting a large, fat bird impaled on a stick directly above it. It was then that the bleak reality of her situation came back to haunt her tenfold. She knew exactly where she was and how she'd gotten there.

  In another fleeting moment, she shook away those same thoughts and soon felt glad that she was safe and sound and that David seemed to be all right after his collision with the rocks the previous night.

  She was extremely happy to see him.

  “Jesus Christ, David,” Louise cried, raising her hand to her eyes to shield out the sun. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “A baby seal,” David said, deadpan.

  Louise's jaw almost dropped to the pebbled shore. “It is not.”

  David chuckled a little at her reaction. “It's pheasant,” he finally stated.

  Louise stood, stretched out, and walked over towards David and the fire. Up close, she noticed the huge cut and bruises on the side of his face, right under his temple.

  “Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

  “I'm a little sore. A little bruised and battered. But I'm alive.”

  Louise sat cautiously beside the fire. “I'm sorry I almost got us killed last night by riding on your back for five continuous hours straight.”

  David just smiled at that before replying. “And thank you for dragging my sorry arse out of the sea and saving my life.”

  Louise smiled at that and nodded. “No problem-o. Any time.”

  David carved off a piece of pheasant meat and handed it to her. “Eat up. We need to move on soon.”

  Chapter 16

  David and Louise made their way through the dark, dense forest on the other side of the beach. David led the way while Louise trailed a few yards behind. He made sure not to walk in the direction of the hunters h
e'd seen earlier that morning. Instead, they made their way in a huge big semi-circle around the woods’ eastern side.

  He decided not to mention the incident to Louise, mainly because he didn't want to worry or upset her any more than she already was. Plus, his guilty conscience was niggling on his mind and he didn't want Louise to judge him for standing idly by and doing nothing. But it wasn't his fight anymore. It wasn't even his war. He had only one objective here, and anything that got in the way was an unwanted distraction.

  They soon emerged from the forest and onto a long series of rolling hills that once upon a time would have been filled with various crops and farm animals of all shapes and sizes. Now the fields sat barren and wasted as far as wide as the eye could see.

  In the late afternoon, they finally reached the last hill on the horizon. David was the first to reach the peak. From there, he glanced over at the next challenge that lay ahead. Slowly, he took in the new view and the emergence of the great dipping valley below. He hesitated as his gaze fell upon a small and secluded petrol garage and a seemingly occupied farmland. Although, the previous modern-day farm owners appeared to have long since gone.

  Next, he noticed some small thatched cottages dotted around the bottom of the valley, either side of the farm fields and the petrol garage, and just off the main road that stretched all the way out from the west before curving up towards the northeast. In the largest field behind the garage was a group of around 20 or so men of various shapes and colours. None of them were white. All of them seemed to be working and digging away in the fields like slaves.

  From what David could see, they were dressed in rags and dirty clothes that had probably never been washed since the beginning of the war. They all looked tired, starved and exhausted, yet continued working away regardless.