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Authors: Dominic C. James

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BOOK: Fear of the Fathers
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Titan strutted out into the open, nosing the ground for scent. Stratton watched him for a while. The panther still fascinated him after all this time. He seemed happy enough in himself, but Stratton was beginning to wonder whether life on the moor was enough for the big cat, and whether it was becoming unsafe. Sooner or later – when enough livestock had been taken – men would hunt him down, and either kill him or capture him. A zoo was no place for his friend. Stratton had been contemplating the situation for some time, and an idea had occurred to him. A plan that might kill two birds with one stone.

As the last light faded over the moor Titan finished his territorial rounds and Stratton walked with him back to base camp. The wood was darkening by the minute, but Stratton had trod the route so many times that no illumination was needed.

In the distance, amidst the trees, he saw a flicker of orange, signifying that Oggi had lit a fire. The biker attended to the daily tasks of outdoor living with gusto. Stratton got the feeling that, despite his protestations, he was actually enjoying the fugitive lifestyle. Although he suspected that much more time in the wilderness was going to prove testing for their friendship. They couldn't stay out here forever, but what could they do? Oggi was Britain's most wanted man, and Stratton was supposed to be dead.


Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer
,” said Oggi, as Stratton walked into the small clearing.

Stratton laughed. “It's come to quoting
The Hobbit
now has it?”

“Well, anything to pass the time.”

Stratton continued to chuckle to himself – with his mammoth size and wild hair and beard, Oggi did indeed remind him of a troll.

“I'm making a stew,” Oggi said triumphantly. “I've used the last of the veg that the boys brought us. It should last us for a good few days. Hopefully by then they'll be back with some more.”

“Yes, hopefully,” said Stratton. “If not, then we'll just have to survive on what we can find in the forest.”

“Don't even think about it Ray Mears. It might look appetizing on the telly, but I don't expect the reality is half as good. Neither of us are survival experts. We'll probably end up eating something poisonous – and it might not affect you Mr Messiah, but us mortals have a slightly weaker constitution.”

“I wish you'd stop calling me that.”

“What?” said Oggi. “Ray Mears, or Mr Messiah.”

Stratton grinned. “You know which one.”

“Well, you do have Messianic tendencies: healing the sick, rising from the dead etc.” Oggi paused. “I tell you what we could really do with though – some fish and some loaves. And maybe you could turn this stagnant water into wine. I'm dying for a drink.”

“Maybe the boys will bring you some,” said Stratton. “That's the least of our worries at the moment though. We can't carry on living out here much longer. The weather's getting warmer and soon the woods will be crawling with people in the daylight. It's only a matter of time before someone discovers us.”

“I guess so,” said Oggi. Much as he disliked life in the woods, it was better than prison. After the initial hardship he had inured himself to the harsh realities of life on the run. He and Stratton had dug out an underground shelter, and with the help of his boys had made it habitable. It was four feet deep and twelve feet square with a mattress at either side. There were a couple of low chairs, a table for eating, and a large supply of candles. At the front they had installed a makeshift chimney for an indoor fire. The roof was a wooden framework covered with a tarpaulin, earth and leaves. You could walk within two feet of it and not know it was there.

“The stew smells good,” Stratton complimented. “You're becoming a bit of a dab hand at al fresco cuisine.”

“Well, when needs must,” said Oggi. “I've got to admit though – I'd give my right arm for a good curry and a pint of lager. When the lads come next I'm going to send them off for a takeaway.”

“Sounds like a plan,” agreed Stratton. “I could do with one myself.”

Half an hour later Oggi declared the stew to be ready and dished some out into bowls. Sitting on logs opposite each other they ate in a hungry silence next to the fire. Stratton finished quickly and spooned himself a second helping.

“Better not have too much,” said Oggi. “That's all we've got.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure fresh supplies will be arriving in the next few days. We won't starve – I promise you. Besides, I don't think you're going to be wasting away any time soon.”

Oggi ignored the last comment and helped himself to some more stew. Men had been beaten for less in the past, but he was used to Stratton's cheek and accepted it in the playful spirit that was intended. Whatever Stratton might say or do, Oggi knew that there was always an underlying respect. And, if he was honest, he quite enjoyed the badinage that went on between them. Most people were too scared to share a joke with him.

Oggi finished his food and gave a contented burp. “So,” he said. “It's pretty clear that we can't stay here much longer. What are we going to do?”

“I'm working on it. But to be honest, our options are limited. Ideally it'd be best to get out of the country. Unfortunately, every port and airport is going to have your picture. The only other thing is to find a safe house. But again, that's going to be difficult with the police watching all your known associates like hawks. I'm surprised they've managed to get food to us without being followed.”

“You'd probably be a lot better off without me holding you back,” said Oggi.

“Don't be silly,” said Stratton shaking his head. “I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. You and the boys brought me back. I'm not going anywhere until you're sorted as well.”

“But still, it might just be easier if I handed myself in. I'm going to be a wanted man for the rest of my life otherwise. There's no real freedom in that is there? Whatever happens in the future, I'm always going to be a prisoner in some respect. At least if I hand myself in I can do my time. I might not even get that long a sentence if they consider the circumstances properly. I could be out in ten years.”

“Perhaps,” said Stratton. “But I wouldn't bank on it. You've killed a cop; and whatever he did they're still going to come down hard on you. I know he was a dirty paedo, and you know he was dirty paedo, but he was awarded medals for bravery and they'll just cover it up. There's no way that the truth will come out – it'll just be buried. You'll rot in jail for the rest of your life.”

Oggi lit a cigarette. “I thought you'd be all for me coming clean. The truth will set you free and all that. I've committed a crime, so maybe I should do my time. At least I won't be running any more.”

Stratton lowered himself to the ground and stretched out with his back against the log. “You've already come clean as far as I'm concerned,” he said. “You've admitted your crime. But if you really want to go and face some kangaroo court then that's your business. Personally I don't think having you put away for the rest of your life is going to help anybody. If you feel that you should pay some sort of penalty, then devote your life to something useful.”

“How can I devote my life to anything? I no longer have a life.”

“There's always a way. I still need your help for a start.”

Oggi laughed. “So you keep saying. But I don't think you really need anybody's help.”

Stratton leaned back with his arms behind his head. “Of course I do. Contrary to your little asides – I am not a Messiah. I'm not all powerful and I can't turn water into wine. It was you who brought me back from the dead remember. As far as the symbols go, eventually you'll be just as capable as me at using them.” He paused. “Where's all this come from anyway? It almost sounds like you've grown a conscience from somewhere. A few months back you wouldn't have dreamed of handing yourself in.”

Oggi threw his cigarette into the fire and lit another. “I know. I can hardly believe myself. But being out here has given me a lot of time to think. I'm seeing things differently now. It all started when you attuned me to those symbols at the end of last year, just before you were killed. I don't know exactly what happened, but I started to feel remorse – even for those two shitbags I shot. Whatever you've done to me, I wish you'd undo it.”

Titan, who had been munching at a sheep's leg, ambled up and lay down at Stratton's side. Stratton gave him an affectionate rub. “The thing is Oggi, I haven't done anything to you. Reiki only brings out what's latent inside a person. Perhaps you're just not the man you thought you were. Maybe being a hard man is against your true nature. Maybe it's a role you've taken on out of necessity – out of fear.”

Oggi jumped to his feet, his eyes filed with rage. “Don't fucking well push it Stratton,” he said, raising his fists. “I'm not afraid of anyone or anything. If you think I'm chicken, then get off your condescending arse and prove it. I'll take you and your fucking moggy on!”

Titan lifted his head and growled. Stratton held up his hands. “Fucking hell Oggi! Calm down will you. I wasn't accusing you of being yellow. I was just trying to offer a rational explanation for your thoughts and actions. Everybody has deep-seated fears – it doesn't make everybody a chicken.”

Oggi lowered his hands and sat back down. His anger passed. He lit another cigarette. “Sorry mate,” he said, eventually. “I'm just getting a bit tetchy at the moment. Being stuck out here is quite claustrophobic – if you get what I mean.”

“No need to apologize,” said Stratton. “I should have explained myself better. I didn't mean you were afraid per se, I was only suggesting that maybe you had a fear of letting your guard down. Everybody builds protective walls around themselves. The hardest men are often the kindest and most vulnerable as they have more to hide and protect than the average person.”

Oggi grunted dismissively.

“The thing is,” Stratton continued, “from an early age we realize that kindness is seized upon by the wily and the unscrupulous. As we grow we're ingrained with the idea that kindness is a weakness, and that it will be taken advantage of.”

“I'm not sure I agree with you there,” Oggi interjected. “Our society is fairly charitable, it does encourage benevolence in general.”

“Yes it does. But talk is cheap. The reality is that you do the right thing and you get shat on from a great height. No good deed goes unpunished etc.” He paused. “Anyway, it all depends on your situation I suppose. The point I'm trying to make is that your true nature is compassionate and humane, and you've subconsciously built up a barrier of steely indifference as a defence. Reiki starts to break down these falsities and burrows its way through to your true self. A lot of people find this extremely uncomfortable – I know I did. What you're experiencing at the moment is the battle between your true self and your fake self. Your remorse is your inner being escaping.”

“Ok Mr Street Psychologist, if you're right, how do you explain Hitler? Was he the kindest person that ever lived? Was he just hiding his true nature?”

Stratton held up his hands. “You've got me there. I can't explain bullies and psychopaths. You're a hard man not a psychopath.”

Oggi shrugged. “I wouldn't be so sure. There's a lot of people out there who would disagree. Most of my adult life's involved being inhumane. If you knew the half of it you wouldn't be sitting here with me.”

“Wouldn't I? What makes you think that? I couldn't care less what you've done in your life. It's what you're going to do that counts. You're slowly dragging yourself out of the cave.”

Oggi gave a questioning look. “The cave?”

Stratton took a sip from his water bottle. “It's how Plato described enlightenment. He likened most people to slaves in fetters in a cave; the only thing they could see were the shadows of reality reflected on the walls from outside. They had been so conditioned to this murky world, that even if they had wished to see the external truth it would have been too bright: they would be dazzled and blinded. So out of fear they stayed in the shadows.” He drank some more water. “Reiki's taken away the chains that bind you. All you need to do now is accustom yourself to the light – that is of course if you wish to. It's a long and confusing road. An infinite road.”

“You make it sound really tempting,” laughed Oggi. “Perhaps I'll be better off in the cave.”

“Maybe,” said Stratton. “Most people think they are. But mankind won't get anywhere making shadow puppets.”

Chapter 11

It was getting on for 10pm, the hospital corridor devoid of life. Diana Stokes continued her rounds. She had just finished redressing Mr Jones' leg and was on her way to check Mrs Styles' morphine. After that she would be finished, except maybe for one last visit to Mr Abebi.

During the afternoon, whilst attending to his wounds, Mr Abebi had requested she bring him a pen, some paper, and an envelope. After finishing her rounds she had returned with the items. At his request, she had waited whilst he jotted down a note and sealed it in the envelope. On the front he had written a name and address. He had beckoned her closer and said, “Take this and deliver it for me please. It is important.”

BOOK: Fear of the Fathers
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