Remorse
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Remorse free porn video
REMORSE.
BY
WALLACE
Remorse: (n) A feeling of regret for sins or misdeeds;compunction, contrition, penitence, repentance.
Warning; contains strong language
We had been walking slowly, her arm in mine, both of us maybe lost in ourthoughts when I suddenly came out of my own head and realised where I was.I turned as best I could, looked at her, at her almost serene, smiling faceand said,
"Amy, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I was away somewhere again…" shelooked at me indulgently and then she leaned forward and kissed me on the leftcheek, the nearest one to her, the good one and then she touched my face,
"D'you want to sit down? You look tired, so tired…" I did my bestto smile even though my whole face seemed to rebel against it.
"Do you mind?" She shook her head and there was no judgement in her expression.For the first time I looked around me properly. It was a crisp night, our breathwas turning to steam as soon as it left our mouths, there was a full moon andthe traffic noise was minimal.
The place where we were seemed calm somehow and very peaceful, it was threein the morning but even so, there was a serenity here that it would be hardto find, say in the middle of London, and I needed serenity right then.
"Where are we?"
Amy touched my hand.
"We're in Strawberry Fields." She said sparely. If my mind was wandering,as it had been previously, then it suddenly came into focus. I turned to lookat her and felt the pain for doing it less than carefully.
"Strawberry Fields?"
When he was young John Lennon and his mates used to go to fetes and gardenparties at the Salvation Army children's home in Strawberry Fields and quitea while later he wrote a song about it, THE song about it.
But Strawberry Fields was in Liverpool.
I looked at her uncomprehending, " But…" she just grinned at me,maybe pleased that she was able, at last, to divert my attention somewhereelse.
It was a tranquil glade. There were trees; there was a small incline. Therewere bushes and flowers, even at this time of year and there was a mosaic justto my left, a simple black and white mosaic with a candle and a single roseon it that spelt out just one word: IMAGINE.
It was an oasis.
A tiny piece of calm and solitude.
So calm it overwhelmed me.
So calm I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and for the first timesince we had landed in New York, for the first time in my recent adult life,I started to cry. I started to cry and I couldn't stop and Amy held me.
She held me close to her and put her arms around me and held me like shewas never going to let me go.
*
People have lived through worse, much, much, worse.
They have seen friends and family die, had them literally slaughtered infront of them and that, in this sometimes-horrible world, is often just forstarters but right then, in that blood spattered cargo hold that literallystank of death, I really could not imagine any worse horrors.
Juliet, someone who I had known for less than four hours, lay dead, her bodystill oozing blood, her head kicked in by a frightened horse who, impaled onthe steel remains of the pen that should have kept him safe on the journeyto New York, also lay dead and blood spattered.
Killed by a bolt through his brain.
A bolt that I had fired.
A man who I had never known lay a few inches away from me, also dead. Absolutelystone cold dead for reasons that I could not even begin to imagine and Val,another innocent in this, lay in my arms barely conscious, her lifeblood probablyleaking into her abdominal cavity even as I spoke to her.
And I spoke to her continually in an attempt to keep her conscious. Val wasmy only hope, my only grip on life and reason right then and I had to keepher alive. She was the only control I had in a world that had turned somersaults.
I knew that something had been going on outside but I didn't know what.
I knew, or rather I guessed, that something had been played out outside theaeroplane that could have and might still, mean life or death for both me andVal and the rest of the crew but for the last fifteen minutes or so thingshad been quiet.
We had been flying a relatively straight course without the violent rollercoasterlike twists and turns and dives and climbs that we had experienced earlier.
I felt some relief for that but I also felt terribly alone.
At least I did until I heard footsteps on the spiral staircase.
I called out.
"Who is it?" I was concerned. I didn't want the cabin crew to see this carnage,this slaughterhouse that I was in, that I was partially responsible for. Iwas relieved to hear a South African accent.
"It's me, Mike. Why? …" He walked down the staircase, I've probablynever been so glad to see someone in my entire life, and he stopped dead. "…whatthe fuck?"
Seconds later he was on his knees beside Val and me.
*
"How do you feel?" I looked into Amy's calm brown eyes and nodded.
"Better. But I AM sorry, Amy. I am so, so, sorry." I looked down at my shoesand realised that there was blood still on them.
I felt so embarrassed.
It's bad enough crying but doing it in FRONT of someone?
She already had a hand inside my jacket. She was rubbing my back or ratherthe gauze that covered my back and it felt soothing, my jangled nerves andmy rigid muscles were already starting to relax a little.
"Hey!" she said quietly but emphatically, "Lighten up!" she put both handson my cheeks and held my face level with hers. "You've been through a lot,you need to let go." I wanted to look away but I couldn't.
"I'm just a coward Amy… I was so scared on that plane… a fuckinguseless coward who…" her eyes were angry, her voice little more thana whisper,
"Enough with the self pity, Okay? You're not a coward. You're an ordinaryguy who's been very, very, brave. You did what you had to do. The horse, CarltonPrince, he was suffering, Val was DYING. He's dead. He's dead because you putthe poor thing out of his misery and she's alive because you wouldn't let hergo. Because you kept her conscious. Because you gave her something to livefor. The paramedics said that. The doctor said that. Now, they're not justsaying it to make you happy, so believe it! Be-lieve-it! Understand?" I noddedalmost sulkily because I still couldn't believe that I'd allowed myself tocry in her presence but those soft brown eyes seemed hypnotic somehow. Shetook a breath, a deep one, " And for Chrissake stop apologising!" and thenshe kissed me.
*
But I couldn't save Tom Roberts
I sat there holding Val and trying to keep her with me whilst he convulsedand fought for his breath and died. It was over very quickly but I still watchedhim die, unable to do a thing about it.
Mike checked him out of course and when he was bending over the body I askedhim if he could smell anything. He sniffed and then he sniffed again and hewrinkled his nose and looked at me.
"Yeah. What's that stuff they put on cakes ...marzipan… but stronger?" Inodded but it wasn't marzipan as such, although it had a similar smell.
When I was younger, much, much younger, I read a lot of books, mainly detectivenovels. Conan Doyle, of course, Leslie Charteris, Ed McBain, Raymond Chandlerand Agatha Christie.
The one thing Agatha Christie loved was a bottle of poison and any one whoreads her novels knows that one particular poison has a very distinctive smell – thesmell of bitter almonds. In large enough doses it causes breathing difficulties,convulsions and ultimately, death.
I was no pathologist but I was pretty certain that Tom Roberts had died ofcyanide poisoning.
*
We found a rocky outcrop and sat on it or rather I sat on it and Amy perchedon my knee after asking if I could stand it, which I could. For a while wejust necked like teens and slowly my body began to relax.
It had been a long night.
Satisfied that everything was as well as could be expected under the circumstancesand after patching me up as best he could with the First Aid Kit, Mike hadreturned to the flight deck promising to alert New York and have an ambulanceand a crash team standing by for Val. He had wanted me to go upstairs but wecouldn't move Val and I wasn't prepared to leave her, so we both stayed wherewe were.
After about ten minutes I heard footsteps on the stairs once again. Mikehad promised to make the hold off limits to the rest of the crew but a broadAustralian voice said,
"S'okay mate, I'm the captain, Steve Burton, how ya doin'? I normally liketo meet the passengers but I don't normally have to make house calls!" he judgedmy mood correctly and I grinned at him as best I could. He bought thermal blanketsfor me and for Val and he had a bottle in his hand. By now delayed shock meantthat I was shaking like a leaf and I recognised the bottle as the brandy thatMike had left on the table earlier. He poured some into a plastic cup and puta hand on my shoulder.
"I wouldn't normally suggest this," he said quietly, "but I don't think youcan come to much more harm, do you?" and he grinned like a schoolboy. I tippedit down in one go, felt the stuff warming my insides, felt the shaking stopand my whole body snap into some kind of order.
Mike had told me most of what had gone on before; Steve filled me in on therest. Radio contact had now been restored. New York had declared an emergencysituation and we were being escorted by three F16 fighters. He didn't knowwhy, none of us did until we landed and he asked me about Tom Roberts.
When Mike had told him what I thought had happened he had checked Tom's bagand the tablets that he had taken for his headache earlier on.
Every one of them had the same smell of bitter almonds.
He was now quite sure that Tom had been responsible for the radio problemthey had had earlier and maybe more besides and he was also pretty sure thatsomeone had wanted him dead because of it.
*
Despite myself, despite the fact that I was sitting on a rock in CentralPark at three AM in the morning, despite the fact that my back was coveredin minor lacerations from a small anti personnel bomb, despite the fact thatthe left side of my face was gashed and bruised after being kicked by a horse,despite all that, Amy's constant kissing, the warm sensuousness of her tonedbody and the gentle way that she touched and stroked me was making me horny.
We had come here partly because it was on the way to Amy's and partly becauseI was too wired to sleep. She was pretty pent up too after waiting for me fornearly five hours at the airport and she dragged me out of the cab and intothe park.
We had walked and talked.
Or rather, she had talked and I had occasionally escaped from the turmoilin my head to reply.
We had stopped at the point were the horse drawn carriages pick up for toursround the park and she had looked at me,
"Guess it's not a good time for horse rides huh?" It made me laugh, it mademe put my arms around her and hug her. I was like a clingy child. I didn'twant to let go and eventually we carried on arm in arm.
The rock I was on seemed to be the most comfortable in the world. I stilldidn't want to let go of Amy and she seemed in no hurry either. She also seemedquite happy kissing. When I came up for air again, I finally asked her,
"Why Strawberry Fields?" she gave me a look. The sort of look that Sheilaused to give me when she thought I was being particularly stupid. I think it'sa look that most women carry in their armoury but only Sheila would actuallyTELL you how utterly crass she thought you were being as well.
" Before he died, John Lennon lived in the Dakota on West Seventy SecondStreet, which is just across the way from here, he and Yoko used to come here,it was their favourite place, so the year after he died they renamed it StrawberryFields. That mosaic we saw? That was specially made in Pompeii. A gift fromthe people of Naples." She leaned forward a little and kissed me on the nose "It'sa garden of Peace because that's all Lennon wanted and that can't be a badthing can it?" I shook my head silently and wondered if that all might seema little naïve after 911 and what John Lennon himself might think aboutit all.
One single word came into my mind.
Bollocks.
But then it often does.
I turned suddenly.
There was a noise off to my right.
At least I thought there was but Amy didn't seem to hear it.
"Might have been a squirrel or a fox or something bigger." I shivered. Howmuch bigger? Did Brown Bears roam Central Park looking for picernic baskets?She punched me playfully on the arm but I also noticed that she surreptitiouslyslipped a hand into her shoulder bag just afterwards.
*
Steve Burton only mentioned it much later but both he and Mike were bothconcerned about our fuel usage up to the time the first tyre struck the tarmacand skidded at LaGuardia airport where we had been diverted because it tookless traffic than JFK and was therefore safer at that time.
From the moment we came to a halt the world went mad.
As soon as the doors opened I saw not paramedics but men in space suits carryingwhat had to be Geiger counters because of the noises they made. I could heardogs barking outside and I could also see that we were a long, long way fromthe main airport buildings.
Eventually the space suits left and were followed by regular Police Officerswith dogs. Cocker Spaniels who sniffed and licked and generally put their playfulnoses everywhere and it was only when they left that the paramedics were allowedon board, followed by a man in a suit who said he was from the British Embassy,asked how I was doing and took immediate charge of Val saying that there wouldbe no problem with hospital treatment or Medicare and asked me to get in touchin the next few days.
The paramedics looked at my face and the gash on my eyebrow, taped that andsuggested that I might have a concussion. They wanted me to go to hospital.They still wanted me to go to hospital as they took me off the plane and intothe arms of Amy who had been getting distraught and wasn't exactly appeasedby the look of me as I was helped on to the tarmac.
She took charge.
She told the paramedics she was a nurse and showed them her accreditationand she promised to have me checked out at the Walk In Medical Facility atthe airport, which was exactly that.
I was taken in and x-rayed and declared as well as could be expected underthe circumstances in less than thirty minutes and when I tried to tell Amythat if I had gone into a British hospital at that time of night I would probablystill have been there the following day she just didn't believe me and neitherdid the Yellow Cab driver whose vehicle we were in at the time and who, unlikeBlack Cab drivers in London, didn't seem to have an opinion on everything inthe whole wide world.
*
I shifted a little wondering if you could get piles from rocks. Amy kissedme.
"You Okay?" she asked. I looked at her and for the first time in a lot ofhours managed a genuine smile.
"Yeah. I feel a lot better. I feel a lot better being with you and it justseems so safe here…"
I didn't see them come out of the bushes I just heard the first thing thetall one said,
"Well, that's prob'ly the wrongest thing YOU ever said, ain't it motherfucker?" helooked at me as if expecting a reply, I said nothing and that seemed to annoyhim. "Now get the fuck up and walk towards me!" he glanced at Amy, "You toobitch!" my guts did a somersault. There were two of them. One was black withdreadlocks, the other white with a gold tooth. They both had knives. Flickknives. One, the black one, was carrying handcuffs.
Amy stood up and I followed, she seemed calm, icy calm. I wasn't.
The white one had all the mouth. The black guy stood quiet.
"Put your hands behind your back!" we were close now, very close, so closeI could smell his breath. Amy stood her ground,
"Why do you want us to do that?" she asked quietly.
It was meant to hurt her and frighten me.
He lashed out with one hand and backhanded her hard across the face.
"Don't talk to me bitch! Don't even look at me! Look at the floor! You'renot fit to talk to me!" I glanced at her. There was blood running from thecorner of her mouth.
I looked back at him.
I was simmering inside.
Raging.
Everything that had happened over the last few hours, over the last few monthswas being distilled and bought to boiling point. My hands were shaking butit wasn't from fear.
I could feel the colour draining from my cheeks. I didn't want to talk tohim but I did.
"What are you going to do to us?" the white one didn't smile.
"Well, since you ask so nicely, we're gonna handcuff the both of you andwe're gonna rape her while you watch and then we're gonna kill you and maybeher as well." He studied me closely, "Might even rape your fat white arse whileI'm about it."
I'd seen it done hundreds of times in pubs all over London.
It wasn't hard.
I looked at the black guy. The quiet one, perhaps.
Hoping I wasn't misjudging the situation but in reality too far gone tocare, I shouted at him.
"What about you? Yeah you! Cunt! Deaf cunt! I'm talking to you! What yougonna do? Lick some pussy? Kiss it? Make love to it with your tongue?"
I got the reaction I wanted.
He sprang at me spitting and quivering and consumed by anger and in so doinghe put himself between Amy and the white guy with the gold tooth.
She didn't need a second chance.
Already she had the Taser, the stun gun that she had taken out of her bagearlier and dropped into her pocket, in her hand. She touched it to the blackguys neck and pressed the button and as he went down so she went with him.
"Bleed you motherfucker, bleed!"
I turned and just caught the white guy unawares. He struck out with the knifeand caught me on the cheek but the sudden sharp pain just enraged me more.I grabbed his arm, spun him round, kicked him in the back, got him on his kneesand with his arm straight I pulled it back, back against the elbow and thenkicked down hard on it with my foot.
I heard the satisfying snap of breaking bones.
"Gonna rape me now, asshole?" he was in pain. Theoretically he wasn't a threatbut I wasn't taking chances and I had a whole lot of rage burning inside me.
I dragged him up, I grabbed him by the broken arm and I threw him againsta tree head first and I followed him in and I grabbed his head and I hit itand I hit and I hit it against that tree until his face was a bloody mess andthere was blood coming out of his ears and I suddenly realised that someonewas screaming,
"Stop it! Stop it Bill! Stop it!" at me and a single slap to the good sideof my face suddenly bought me back to my senses.
Amy was standing in front of me a little breathless, the Taser still in herhand; the black guy was barely conscious and groaning on the ground. She pointeda finger at me and managed a smile.
"Just don't apologise! Okay? You beat the fucker senseless… no morethan he deserves… now lets get outta here and we'll call the policewhen we're safe …"
I saw him first, short, stocky, he must have been hanging out a fair distanceaway from us, over by some trees but he had a gun and he was raising it evennow.
I grabbed her hand.
"Run Amy, run for fuck's sake!" and we were off, the adrenaline pumping throughboth of us.
The only thing that was probably keeping us both going right then.
The lake was right in front of us.
She shouted,
"Can you swim?" and I shouted
"No!" just as a single shot reverberated around the park.
Whether she actually DID say,
"Well now's a good time to learn!" was a mater for conjecture as she grabbedmy wrist and half threw, half dragged me into the icy water with her.
THE STORY CONTINUESIN PART TWO
© Wallace 2004. The writer maintains the right to be recognised as theauthor of this piece. This is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance toany places, either real or imaginary or any people or characters real or fictitious,living or dead.
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