500 words a day

2019 words 30th November 2009

‘Shall we get some Champagne?’ said Harriet.


         ‘Bit wasted on them I reckon,’ said Fergus.


         ‘You sure,’ said Gus. ‘I swear I remember them loving it. Remember their 40th anniversary...’


         ‘In Crete?’ said Fergus. ‘Oh yeah. Well, it’s up to you. You don’t need to.’


         ‘They’ve been so lovely though,’ said Harry.  ‘Letting us stay, cooking all that nice food. I just want to let them know how much we appreciate...’


         ‘If you’re sure, that would be really nice.’


         They’re in Marks & Spencer’s in Monmouth. It’s the nearest big town to where their staying, xxx a little village where Fergus’s Mum & Dad moved to a year or so ago – their retirement cottage. Even though they’d both been retired for 10 years or more.


         Fergus wandered off to look for something for dessert while the others headed for the alcohol section. Fergus heard a sharp bang from outside then a woman’s voice


         ‘Oh my God!


         Followed by  more screams and gasps.


         ‘Did you see that!’


         Another few sharp banging noises in quick succession. Fergus ran to the front of the shop. People in the shop were either rushing in the same direction or had turned their heads that way. At the doorway, the security guard went  into the street followed by a few of the shoppers.


         ‘What’s happening,’ Fergus asked an old man standing next to him.


         ‘Sounds like a gunshot, that’s what I reckon. That was a machine gun, that last time.’


         ‘What!’


         Gus and Harry arrived behind him.


         ‘What is it!’ said Harry.


         ‘Machine gun,’ said the old man.


         ‘No, no it’s probably just...’


         They hear it again much longer this time a sustained burst. Fergus walked out into the street followed by Gus and Harriet and a few other shoppers. About 50 metres away down the high street they saw people scattering, running in all directions, some towards them. There are a few people on the floor but when the crowd thins out they can see a group of men in white uniforms encircling a group of policemen, pointing guns at them. Fergus walked slowly towards them to get a better look.


         From the other side of the circle he watched as three more men in white approached holding their guns on four more policemen, these in riot gear. They are shoved into the centre of the circle with the others.


         ‘Phone the police,’ he said to Harry. ‘I haven’t got my phone. Quickly!’


         ‘No signal’ she said after a few seconds. She turned round to the crowd of onlookers. ‘Please, can someone ring the police, my phones not working...’


         ‘Nor mine,’ says a man with his phone already in his hand. One by one the others reported that they have no signal.


         ‘Look,’ say one of the onlookers, ‘they’re bringing more in. What are they doing?’


         ‘Oh my God!’ said Harry.


         ‘It’s probably a practical joke or street theatre or something,’ said Gus


         There were now about 20 uniformed police, most in riot gear, and a couple of security guards in the circle, surrounded by the armed men. One of the armed men gestured with his gun and a few of the others started to push the policemen towards one side of the street, lining them up against a shop window. One of them tried to grab the gun of one of the troopers. He was immediately set on by four of them. They clubbed him to the ground with the butts of their guns, then as he lay there they kicked him over and over again until he didn’t move anymore.


         ‘Jesus!’ said Fergus. Harry and Gus were holding on to each other next  him.


         ‘They’re going to shoot them,’ said Harry.


         ‘No...’ said Gus.


         ‘Look!’ said Fergus.


         Leaving the lifeless body of the policeman on the pavement the other troopers returned to face the lined up policemen fanning out in front of them. They raised their guns and began to fire, long bursts. Blood spattered the windows of the shop before they shattered and all of the policemen fell to the ground. The shooting continued as they lay there, the troopers moving in close spraying all the bodies with round after round.


         People in the street were screaming and running away from the  danger. Fergus, Gus and Harriet ran back into the supermarket. Fergus turned as they reached the store and saw the troopers marching off in the other direction to the end of the high street. He could just make out a line of jeeps waiting there. As he watched they marched to the jeeps, then drove away.


         ‘What the hell...’ said Fergus.


         ‘We have to go, now!’ said Gus


         ‘What if they’re out there, on the road,’ said Fergus.


         ‘We have to go, said Harry, back to your parents.’


         They ran back to the car park and drove as fast as they could back to Fergus’s parents house 5 miles or so away. They turned on the radio.  At first they couldn’t get any stations,  but finally they managed to get a news programme.


         ‘...reports of armed men, dressed in white in several towns and cities, mainly in the north of the country. I’m going to speak now to one of our reporters. Jeremy Graham is in Manchester. Jeremy what can you tell us.


         ‘Alan, I can’t believe what I’ve just seen. A few minutes ago a police car came screeching down xxx street with its siren on, followed by two military jeeps.


         ‘What happened Jeremy?’


         ‘They forced it off the road, and then...I can’t believe this. They dragged them out of the car...’


         ‘Who dragged them Jeremy...’


         ‘These bloody troopers, in white uniforms Alan...’


         ‘OK Jeremy, please, go on...’


         ‘They dragged them out at gun point. There was a young man, a young policeman, who was driving and a woman WPC. They dragged them out... I’m sorry. It was awful. They dragged them out, stood them against the car and just shot them, repeatedly. There was blood everywhere, they just carried on shooting, even when they were clearly dead, lifeless on the floor. Then they just got back in their jeeps and drove off.’


         ‘Ladies and Gentlemen this one of many such stories that we’ve been hearing from all over the country. So far we’ve not been able to get any comments from the authorities. We’re going over now to another of our sister stations in Liverpool. Hello Angus...’


         ‘Put it back on,’ said Fergus.


         Gus fiddled with the tuning button


         ‘It’s gone off air...’


         ‘Try another one then!’


         ‘I’m trying I’m trying, there’s nothing else...’


         ‘What the fuck is happening!’ said Harriet.


         ‘Look!’ said Gus.


         ‘Oh Jesus, this is fucked up,’ said Fergus.


Up ahead in the road was a police BMW, turned over and smoking. In the road were two bodies of policemen, clearly dead, blood running across the road. Gus slowed down as they go closer.


         ‘Don’t slow down!’ said Fergus.


         ‘We have to...’


         ‘No we don’t, ’ said Harriet, ‘just keep going, fast Gus for Christ’s sake.


         ‘We have to get Mum & dad,’ said Fergus.


         On the journey home they saw three more police vehicles and dead bodies by all of them. They took the turn off the main road towards the village and as they did they saw three of the jeeps coming towards them.


         ‘Oh fuck, what shall I do?’ said Gus.


         ‘It too late... just pull over to the side,’ said Fergus.


         ‘Gus!’ said Harry.


         They pulled over as far as possible, right up against the roadside hedge. The jeeps sped past seeming not to notice them. They drove as fast they could to Fergus’ parents house. As they turned the corner into their street they saw people out on the road. A woman was standing in the middle of the street pulling t her hair and screaming. They pulled up and jumped out of the car. Fergus ran towards the house. As he did the neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Harris came out of their house.


         ‘Fergus, Oh my God, I’m sorry...’


         ‘Where’s my Mum and Dad?’


         ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Mr. Harris.


         Fergus ran into the house. The door was unlocked and hanging off it’s hinges. As he stepped into the hallway he saw his Mum’s legs on the floor in the front room. Taking another step he could see that his Dad’s legs next to her. Two more steps and he entered the room,  he could see their torsos, they were both lying on their backs. One final step and he was able to see everything. Their severed heads had been placed next to their bodies. He was unable to turn his head away in time and saw their dead eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He turned, running out into the street vomiting and then screaming as Gus and Harry arrived.


         ‘Fergus, what’s happened,’ said Harriet putting her arm round him as he crouched on the floor retching. He didn’t’ respond. Gus ran past him into the house. Harriet heard him shouting behind her.


         ‘What is it Gus?


         Gus staggered out of the house with his hand over his mouth shaking his head.


         ‘Fucking hell Fergus, Jesus fucking Christ...’


         Harriet came towards him.


         ‘Tell me what’s happened,’ she grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look directly at her.


         ‘They... they’re dead. They’ve killed them.’


         ‘Oh my God,’ said Harry, taking a step towards the house. Gus grabbed her arm.


         ‘NO, don’t Harry..’


         ‘They cut their fucking heads off!’ said Fergus turning round to look at them. ‘Cut them off and placed them by their dead bodies.’


         ‘What! Oh my God. Gus?’


Gus nodded. Mr Harris came over from next door.


‘I’m so sorry, we couldn’t stop them...’


‘Who are they?’ said Harry. ‘Why here, why did they choose this house...’


‘It’s not just here, said Mr. Harris. They picked random houses; they’ve killed people up and down the street.


‘What did they say, why are they doing this?’ said Gus.


‘They didn’t say anything, didn’t speak at all,’ said Mr. Harris.


For the next few hours they stayed out in the street talking to people, hearing similarly horrific stories about killings and beheadings. No on knew what was happening, who they were or where they came from. They all agreed that none of them had spoken at any point.


Some of the neighbours reported that they had been able to find some radio stations intermittently but they didn’t stay on for long. They gathered that the trouble, the killings had started in the North, there was talk of the Army being involved or the Army being neutralised or wiped out. Some said it was a military coup or an invasion by Muslims or Eastern Europeans. No one knew what was really happening. There had been no official statement from the government that anyone had seen. One old woman from the end of the street said that she’d heard that the government had all been killed, all at once, overnight. Killed in their beds they were. But no one took much notice.


‘Fergus mate, do you want us to help you bury your Mum & dad,’ said Gus.


‘Bury them! What are you talking about bury them, we can’t just bury them. Where will we bury them for Christ’s sake?’


‘Fergus, we have to,’ said Harry. ‘Look, no one is going to come and take them to a funeral home or anything like that...’


‘Where the fuck are we going to bury them then?’ said Fergus.


‘I, I don’t know...’


‘What do you think we should just bury them in the garden, maybe in the fucking flower bed ...’


‘Fergus,’ said Gus. ‘Come on mate...’


‘Come on! Fucking come on! My parents are lying in there with their fucking heads chopped off and you tell me to come on. You idiot...’


‘Fergus, please,’ said Harry. ‘We’re trying to help...’


‘Just leave me alone then, please just go somewhere, please just go...’


They told him they’d be next door with the Harris’s, but he didn’t respond. He went into his parents house and slammed the door behind him








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Steve Wybourn





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