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... the dimming of the light... (part 29)

Discussion in 'Stories, Fiction & Essays' started by Daisuke_Jigen, May 5, 2016.

  1. ... the dimming of the light... (part 29)
    … the dimming of the light… (Part 29)

    Peter Hunter



    … as the blood sputtered from the exit wound in the Colonel's back… around the four inches or so of arrow protruding with its broad-head covered in bright blood…
    … I realised it was too good an arrow to waste… to leave in the man's obscene body.
    I fetched a pair of pliers from the garage… then using them to grasp the shaft just in front of the arrowhead and using not inconsiderable force - I pulled the shaft all the way through the colonel's dead body, until I had extracted it …
    … completely covered with fresh blood… but still usable…
    After washing it in the lake only the fletching was damaged - wet and still compressed against the shaft by the process of being pulled through his body…
    But they would dry… and then could be smoothed back into place…
    … the arrow was as good as new…
    Without feeling the slightest remorse or emotion I returned to the house… to be greeted in silence by Sharon and Chris. I could tell by their expressions… their body language… that they knew exactly what I had just done…
    … and probably had worked out the reasons too… but they had not particularly liked the Colonel… shortly Chris left the house without saying anything…
    … and we watched him drag the Colonel's body away… to leave as food for the foxes, the badger and the rats…
    It may not have been very hygienic - but we were by now so hungry and weak that the effort of burial would have been wasteful…

    *

    Thirty-six days since loosing all electrical power and excitement - we saw an aircraft about a thousand feet above us, heading in a westerly direction. From its marking it was a French military plane… no doubt on a surveillance mission - but it indicated that normal life was carrying on in other countries.
    We debated why… others, other countries, did not mount an humanitarian rescue mission to Britain… deciding that it was probably fear of disease and maybe an amazing reluctance to interfere…
    … whatever the reasons… help was not obviously at hand… over five weeks without help…
    … how many of us could be left?


    (To be continued…)
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    Credits to respectful owner (y)
     
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