"Stop that!" He says. Words often used by parents, especially when their child is an annoying brat like Clover. Allen nonetheless is enthralled by his family. Even after everything that has happened, his wife and daughter have adapted to this world remarkably. "Come here you little shit!" Allen says as he chases after Clover, "You're 16, not 5!". "Yeah and you're clearly an old man who can't catch me" Clover replies, giggling like an excited child.
Cerys, Allen's wife, approaches them holding a fruit basket full of fresh pickings. "Oi, children, i've brought you something" she yells, her deep Somerset accent rippling through the night. Allen and Clover run over excitedly. It had been months since any fresh food had been found, let alone Elderberries and Blackberries, nature's candies. They sit together around the fire and tuck into their bounty. Tea time conversation is usually for jokes and plans, no one talks about the time before. Other than Clover. She, like many other children, has made it her mission to provoke her parents as much as possible.
"So, tell me about wild swimming, before the water went bad?". Her parents sigh as they exchange a shallow glance. "Cold" Allen replies. "Boooooring!" Clover exclaims. "Alright, i'll tell you one thing, then you'll shut your face, deal?" Cerys says, turning to face Clover. "Deal!". Cerys sets her food down and smiles softly. "When me and your Father first met, he took me wild swimming in a valley called the Tarr Steps. It was, as he said, freezing" She imitates a shiver, "But when he saw how cold I was, he picked me up and carried me out of the water. It's hard to find a proper man, he passed the test with flying colours!". "That's enough!" Allen exclaims as the girls laugh and giggle. "Allen!" a voice in the distance shouts. "Allen, it's the Cult, we need you!"
Allen recognises the voice as Otis, a fellow camp member. "What is it?" Allen asks. "The cult, they're attacking in force. We stand a chance but we need you on the defence!" Otis explains. "Shit... fuck, Cerys! Take Clover, grab supplies and make for the exit, fast!" Allen barks at his family. "Not without you!" Cerys says shakily. Allen embraces his daughter and wife, "I will find you, I promise. Join the refugees heading north to the City. I love you."
His goodbyes were cut off from the sound of screams and the glow of fire in the distance. Allen and Otis rush to the makeshift armoury, grabbing machetes, knives and spears made from old sports Javelins. Otis of course, had his trusty old revolver at his hip. "This way!" Otis shouts to Allen, leading him to the defence effort. By the time they arrive at the gate, bodies littered the ground. The cultists, sounding their death whistles triumphently, picked the corpses clean of their makeshift gear and weapons.
"Quickly Allen, this-" Otis is cut off as a whistling crossbow bolt strikes his neck. He collapses to the ground, and bleeds out quickly. His swift death causes panic in Allen, who draws his machete. Two cultists, in respirator masks, wearing thick leather stained with blood emerge from the smoke laden darkness. Allen was not a fighter. He had never killed man and yet, his adrenaline gripped him. Summoning up his courage, he charges at the cultists, swinging his machete wildly.
It took little effort for the seasoned cultists to disarm Allen, one with a hammer, the other with a wood cutting axe. The hammer wielder strikes Allen's hand, knocking his weapon to the floor and kicking him to the ground. Allen frantically tries to scramble backwards but slips in the mud. He turns his head to the side, afraid to see his own imminent death. He tries hard to think about his wife and daughter, his final thoughts would be of those he loved.
He opens his eyes briefly and sees a miracle, Otis's handgun resting in the mud. The cultists approach him slowly, enjoying their prey's fear. Allen uses this time to reach across the mud, snatch the revolver and with Django like speed fire a shot into each cultist. The cultists collapse but one sounds his death whistle, alerting the others to Allen's location.
Allen ran, stumbling and slipping in the mud but he kept getting up and running. He notices he's running over the corpses of the women and children of his camp and says "please God, I beg of you, let my family have survived, please" shakily.
Outside the confines of the camp, away from the smoke and smell of burning corpses, Allen collapses to his knees, panting and out of breath. He slams his fist into the ground and screams. He must of cried for an hour, screaming and whining at his loss. For all he knew, he was the sole survivor.
He slowly stood up. His only path now was towards the city of Bristol. He took his first step, not knowing that everything, was about to change.