Fear of God (Trials of Strength Book 1) (3 page)

Restrained and gagged,
stuck in a nightmare reality where help was a dream.

The nightmare flashed
through my mind, but I wasn’t dreaming, and I couldn’t feel
anything tying me down or blocking my mouth. I was also on the
floor. I tried to move, face my attackers, but my head seared and I
bit the inside of my cheek. A hand rested on my shoulder, and
someone’s warm breath hit my ear.

‘
Not now. I
need you to stay down for a while,’ a man’s voice
whispered.

I felt a small prick on
my neck and a warm haze settled over my mind. It spread downwards,
numbing my arms and legs, my entire body pain free and light like a
feather. A contented sigh escaped my lips, and the strange man
chuckled.

‘
You have no
idea what’s in store,’ he said gleefully, ‘but don’t worry, Subject
17, I’ll be looking out for you. Make me proud.’

He left my side and the
world shifted. The floor became softer, swallowing me. The strong
haze intensified, and again, I was forced from the
world.

*

When I woke again I
shivered, ice had settled in my bones and my breath came out as
mist. I shifted onto my side and almost screamed. The agony in my
head was back, and it thumped in time with my erratic heart. I was
groggy as I moved to sit up. I lay on the rug in the living room
taking breaths that hitched in my throat. The weak sun was gone
from the world outside and the sky was starless.

I reached round the back
of my head and gasped as my hand fell on a golf ball-sized lump. It
was sticky too, and when I brought my hand back, blood stained my
fingertips. I flinched to the side and threw up, retching until
there was nothing left. I coughed and tried to breath, forcing my
brain to work and remember.

Who the hell had attacked
me, thieves? That man, he had said something, but the words eluded
me. I stood slowly and tried to settle my stomach. For a minute I
just swayed on the spot, breathing through my nose when I
remembered. Mum.

I walked as
quickly as I could to the kitchen and my eyes searched the darkness
for monsters and bodies. But I found none, no hidden attackers and
no body by the kitchen table. I closed my eyes tightly and opened
them. No, there was no body. At first I was relieved, then
terrified. Was that body my mother? If so, where was she? My Dad…
Was
he
alright?

I leaned against the wall
as another bout of sickness hit, and slid down to the floor. What
the hell was going on? My head fell in my hands and I tried to keep
tears from falling. Reality was breaking, turning into a nightmare.
I spotted the landline where it had landed, and picked it up. I
dialled my mother’s number, and hoped for an answer. It didn’t
ring, just went straight to voicemail. I hung up and bit my
lip.

I dialled emergency
services, waited, and pressed the corresponding number for the
police. Frustratingly, I received a busy dial tone and cancelled
the call. I gave it a few minutes and tried again, still busy. The
tears fell, it was impossible to describe the variety of emotions
that crushed my insides, but none were good.

I got up again, and threw
the phone off the wall. I needed help. I needed to get moving. I
looked to the front door and slouched over to it. It was wide open,
explaining the teeth chattering chill that had invaded the house.
It had never been cold, my home, always warm and safe, my mother
greeting me with a loving smile every time I entered.

I was about to leave when
I stopped. Something itched in the back of my mind, something I
could do to answer one of the many questions I was faced with. I
made my way through the house, but only the downstairs, where the
most expensive things sat. Nothing was missing. I shivered as
confusion sent shooting pains across my skull.

They weren’t
thieves.

I hurried back to the
door and out onto the empty streets. All the houses were dark,
their occupants probably asleep, safe and sound in their beds. I
envied them, their unremarkable lives untouched, while mine was
being lit with fire. I could’ve sprinted around the doors screaming
for help, but the thought didn’t enter my mind. That probably saved
my life. I walked as fast as my legs would take me, stopping every
now and again for air. I had one goal, and I had to make
it.

I turned onto Main
Street, and just when I thought I’d had enough surprises for a
lifetime, my ignorance kicked me in the teeth. The street was
chaos, a deserted hell. Cars lay empty, doors open and windows
smashed. Shops had been wrecked, their contents spilling into the
street and from some, the lights flickered. Rubbish littered the
pavements and roads; glass from windows coated the ground along
with something red and shiny. As if on cue, a black bin bag drifted
across my vision, like tumbleweed in an old western.

I wanted to
scream, but it couldn’t be real, I refused to believe it. I started
to jog and ignored the agony in my head. My heart rattled painfully
and I almost threw up again. It was joke, a cruel, despicable joke.
The things that happened, they couldn’t happen, they
couldn’t
happen. Still, I
swallowed the scream that threatened to break free. If horror films
teach you anything, it’s never to scream.

I turned the last corner
and the squat glass building came into view. Its light was like a
beacon of hope. The police could help, they would have the answers.
I walked up the ramp to the doors, pushed them open, and walked
from one nightmare to another.

I fell to my
knees.

The police station was
destroyed. Paper was sprawled everywhere and the glass barriers
separating officers from the general public had been shattered.
Phones hung off their hooks, explaining why I couldn’t get
through.

The air felt thin, each
breath harder to take than the last. I was suffocating, I couldn’t
breathe. I drew in quick ragged breaths of air, desperate to
satisfy my gasping lungs. I couldn’t handle this. Not something
like this, everyone gone, the town near destroyed. The world I’d
come to take for granted was crumbling into my worst
nightmare.

I ran back outside,
trying to quell the panic that threatened to reach dangerous
heights. I was vaguely aware of walking the streets, my feet taking
control and moving in any direction. I wanted to scream but part of
me was still afraid to. The town was so empty, so barren and dead.
I pushed open a set of doors, looked around for my bearings and
realised I’d travelled back to the place where my world first
started to crumble. I was back at the college.

I travelled through the
hallways, finally setting myself to the task of finding my mobile.
Was there a number you could phone for this? There had to be, there
was a number for everything, right? But it wasn’t that easy, for
fate had different plans, and was desperate never to let me find
peace again. I turned into the open doorway to my class, and the
scream finally released itself from my throat.

Blood, blood everywhere,
dark and red and filling the air with a repulsive smell that made
me gag. The cream walls of the class were caked in it, the floor
soaked with it, and the cause? Bodies, dozens of bodies lay around
the room, eyes wide and mouths open with long dead screams for
help. I could only stare at the carnage, sense told me to move,
run, get the hell away from the anarchy and back
outside.

Then I saw
him.

A man stood in the
epicentre of the destruction, as if the bloodshed radiated from
him, and then I realised: It did. His back faced me, his clothes
soaked crimson and a knife in his hand dripped with the blood of
its victims. I stared as he turned. I looked into his vacant eyes,
a hollow shell of the person he once was.

‘
Mr Williams,’
I whispered, ‘Mr…’

I couldn’t speak, my
voice was lost. I wished then I hadn’t been so impulsive and
screamed. It never ends well. A second, one blink of an eye, and he
was on me. He hit me hard and we both tumbled back into the
hallway. My head hit the solid tiles with a crack and the world
began pulling in at the edges. He was on top and he screamed with
rage. An anger matched only by my fear.

He raised the knife, and
brought it down. Instinctively I reacted, my hand flew up to meet
his, and I caught it just before the blade sunk into my neck. I was
lost in agony as my arm creaked, the strength of the being on top
almost overwhelming. Such strength… My screams mixed with his and I
could feel my energy draining. The knife moved closer, the tip
almost touched my skin.

I don’t want
to die. Please!

But my thoughts couldn’t
save me. My vision blurred and I knew this was it. This was where
and how I would die.

Pop. Pop.
Pop.

The sounds pierced the
air and rang in my skull. The pressure of Mr Williams’ hand
lessened and gave way. The knife clattered to the floor and his
eyes glazed over. I pushed with my remaining strength, and he
keeled onto the ground beside me. A few metres away a shadowy
figure stood, something smoking in his hand.

A gun. I tried to process
it, but the world was leaving.

A
gun?

The man ran over and
grabbed me. He shook violently, and shouted words I couldn’t
acknowledge. But I was fading fast and soon to be gone. I wanted to
be gone, I wanted to wake up in bed and have that whole day be
another nightmare I wouldn’t forget. He yelled something again and
cocked his head in the air, listening. A chorus of screams bounced
off the walls of the corridor and the man’s face fell. I almost
laughed at the transformation, until I realised that that couldn’t
be good.

But as the thunderous
footsteps clattered from somewhere down the hall, I clocked out,
lost to darkness.

The
Angel

I was never leaving this
place. I would always be restrained, voiceless and
afraid.

There would always be
whispers in the dark, and cracks of thunder.

A fire from hell would be
my only fate.

*

Again I woke from that
nightmare, hope for a new day renewed. I kept my eyes closed as I
always did and drew in what I expected to be fresh air. My lungs
filled with something thick and old and full of dampness. There was
a steady dripping sound a few feet away, rhythmic and out of place.
The ground I was sprawled on was not a soft mattress, and the
hushed voices were foreign to my room.

I shifted and
gave a grunt. My head thumped in time with my heart as I tried to
remember what had happened. Iron bars shut me out from the memory.
I couldn’t remember, no, I didn’t
want
to remember.

Someone gasped somewhere
close, and then a scream erupted from the other side of the
room.

‘
It’s awake!’
the woman who had screamed shouted.

It?

Movement exploded around
me and my heavy eyes flashed open. A woman sat a few feet away,
eyes wide and mouth open, the one who had gasped. Next to her stood
three men, arms extended, angry snarls etched into their
faces.

‘
You move, you
die, simple,’ the one in the middle shouted, spit flew in all
directions. ‘You answer our questions, or you die. Got
it?’

I stared bewildered.
There was something in their hands, something familiar
but…

Guns.

I tried to scramble
backwards, away from the menacing barrels of death, the man’s words
forgotten. The woman close by moved in front and shielded me from
the weapons, her hair flying around her head like a fiery
halo.

‘
Stop it! Get
those out of his face and give him a second to breath, damn you!’
she said, her voice loud but calm.

‘
Anna, get out
of the way. Now!!’ the man replied. ‘No chances. We were told. He
gets no chances.’

The two men at his side
had faces as pale as the moon, sweat clung to them and their arms
shook, threatening to slip on the trigger.

‘
You were told
to stand guard, not shoot the guy as soon as he woke up!’ Anna
exclaimed.

I couldn’t help but stare
at the back of her head incredulous, why wasn’t she getting out of
the way? I wanted to scream at her that the men held guns, but no
doubt she knew, but why take the risk? I was about to ask when I
realised that then they would be trained back at me.

Oh, she’s
protecting me.

Thoughts were hard to
form, and each time I tried it sent pricks of pain batting around
my skull. She did understand they had guns, right?

‘
Back down,
Paul,’ Anna challenged, her voice trembled with fury.

The man named Paul stood
defiant, he looked half mad. Spit had continued to slide down his
chin from his snarl, and I noticed his arm wasn’t too steady
either. I laughed at his face, realised it wasn’t funny, laughed
again. Eventually he licked his lips and slowly dropped his
arm.

‘
Ask him
then!’ he shouted, his lackeys jumped at his side.

Anna turned slowly, her
face red with anger, but her expression softened when her eyes met
mine.