Lockdown Season 4 - The continuing adventures of a Dickhead

[DaveIronside]

The sound of Christmas songs outside drifted into the bedsits tiny room creating a contrast of feelings, the joyful and upbeat sounds of children celebrating the fact that "Santa Clause is coming to town" amid the bare walls of peeling plaster. A can of soup was being gently heated on the one working gas hob of the tiny stove, he knew that across the capital of Mountjoy families would be preparing feasts of roasted meat, fresh vegetables and creamy deserts, the very thought made his stomach growl. There had been a time when at this time of year he'd have been in the bossom of his family back home looking forward not to Christmas but to the end of year when followers of the Cult of Helus celebrated the new year to come. He'd been here in Moutjoy for six months now, ever since he'd managed to get out of Seleucid following the Cultist genocide there. It had taken him a few months to trek through the hills and plains that seperated Mountjoy from Seleucid, getting what help from the kindness of strangers that he could. Having arrived in Mountjoy he'd struggled to find somewhere to live and had spent a few weeks living under a bridge in the capital, his life was about as far away from his youth as a Prince. As winter came he was  fortunate enough to find a job in a Mushroom factory, the work was simple enough and it bored him. He spent his days collecting trays of soil, sifting through finding the Mushrooms and then putting them into nice neat boxes before cling filming them. The pay was garbage but it covered the cost of his tiny bedsit just a few hundred meters from work.

Some days he thought perhaps he'd be better off back in prison in East Moreland, he even spent one day sat on a wall staring at the East Moreland embassy and considered just walking in and telling them who he was. At least back in the military prison he'd be warm and feed three times a day. He'd have no friends, but that wasn't unusual, ever since he'd betrayed his cousin King David he'd only ever had one friend, that was Charlotte, the sweet girl from a religious community in the hills near Freestone he'd meet while on the run. They'd become lovers and he knew he had a two year old son, James Junior, who he'd never meet. That was another reason why he'd thought of handing himself in, at least he'd maybe get to see his boy. He had a younger sister too, Lily, but he knew that she's disowned him, he'd read in the paper about how King David had relented and forgiven her assured she knew nothing about his plotting. He was pleased she was successful now, she'd always been a nice girl, not devious like him.

At the end of the day however James knew that if he ever went home he'd never see freedom again, he'd be sent into the depths of Northfort Military Prison and in all liklihood be shanked by some soldier who had lost a friend or loved one in the Regency Crisis. That wasn't something he was able to accept as a fate and so he was resigned to this life, still it wasn't without hope, there was a chance of a promotion at work, to that of "Chief Packing Supervisor" and who knew he may even be able to afford to have his heating on. The soup was ready, he took the pan from the stove and crossed to his window which was next to the head of his small single bed, be sat with his back to the wall looking out the window at the groups out celebrating Christmas. He allowed the warmth of the pan to be used to help warm his body before he began taking small spoonfuls of the thin soup. He longed even for a piece of bread to soak up his meal and fill his stomach but he had none, maybe after pay day. He finished his small meal and washing his pan putting it back in his one cupboard where his three more tins of soup, his meals for the rest of the week, were stored.  As he moved his belongings from the bed to the floor so he could lay down and read in bed for a while he heard something slide under his door. He looked down, no one knew him, he had no friends and socialised with no one, but here a thick white envelope lay. He nervously opened his door looking down the corridor, it was empty without any signs of life, he shut the door and opened the envelope, inside was a Christmas card, he opened it and his eyes widened as he read the words.

"Merry Christmas Dickhead"

[DaveIronside]

The six months since the mysterious note under the door had freaked James out. For the next week or so as he'd walked the short distance to work packaging mushrooms he'd felt like someone was following him but more often than not the streets were empty. He had the feeling that some kind of black figure was watching him, always on the edge of his vision no matter how fast he changed his focus, or that they simply vanished down an alley or something. He'd experienced similar sensations when he first went to prison but that had been the fact that everyone there hated him and would have gladly picked him apart if they hadn't faced a death sentence for murder within prison.

As soon as that sensation ended James began getting phone calls asking for random names, the first was for a Kyle, the next Charlie, then Charlotte. It was then he began thinking it was always the same voice, a light female one as though from a child. He started recording them and playing the calls over and over again, the next ones was James, then Will, then back to Kyle. It was then he came to a realisation, Kyle was the name of the Borlanders leader, Kyle Barren. Charlie was the name of the man he had worked in the library at the Northfort Military Barracks Prison with, then there was Charlotte the young girl he'd fallen for while hiding with a religious commune and now the mother of a child he'd probably never see again, that child was called James. The final name Will was the name of the man he'd escaped from prison with, all be it part of an East Moreland intelligence agency trick gone wrong to help them find a child. The child had been found but James had gone on the genuinely escape and had been running ever since. The names were all people he'd had some kind of relationship with. One day the phone had rang and the womans voice came on, "Hello is Charlie there please" it said in a monotone delivery.

"No they fucking aren't, neither is Charlotte...or James or Will" he screamed down the phone, "What the fuck do you want?" he demanded.

"Hello is Charlotte there please" the voice repeated itself.

"I just told you no.....who are you? What do you want?" James screamed.

"Hello is James there please?"

"I just to..." he was cut off

"You are James. You are there. James is there" the voice broke its mysterious pattern. "James I will see you in twenty minutes" the phone went dead. James didn't wait, he had no idea who would be there in twenty minutes or if anyone would come but the whole situation was far weirder than he'd care to be involved in and so he picked up his fake passport and ran taking what money he could and just a single rucksack. It wasn't like he had lots of belongings to pack and so five minutes after the phone call he was sprinting down the high street. He made his way to the train station and got on the first one, he didn't care where it went.

The next few months saw him hitch hiking and bumming around from country to country while he thought where to go next. He got a variety of jobs, everything from being a waiter at a posh restaurant to translating for a businessman doing deals in East Moreland from an office in The Iwi. It was here he managed to save up enough money to get a flight to Bakkermaya and there found a job working in the Temple of Marissa. It was rather fitting, his childs mother had taken him to a cave back home rumoured to have been the secret grotto of the Goddess and it was there he had conceived his child James Jnr. Working at the Temple made him feel relaxed, gave him a purpose and for once meant he wasn't bothered about having to live in a shithole. He had managed to get himself a nice appartment on the edge of Edwinstowe and he even joined a choir. He'd always enjoyed music and singing and this gave him a release he'd even meet a nice girl called Megan, they'd become friends bonding over their shared enjoyment of the music. It was one night after choir that he figured he'd chance his arm and he asked her out for dinner. It had gone so well she'd asked him back to her place and of course he'd agreed. He remembered the excitement raising in his chest as she lead him by the hand up the steps that lead to her front door. She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open gesturing for him to step inside. He wiped his feet on the welcome mat and stepped in to the brightly lit wide hallway, its floor a mish mash of different patterned tiles. He was still trying to work out if there was some image it was supposed to represent when a voice broke his concentration.

"Howdy Dickhead" the familiar voice said, there stood Warrant Officer Sheppard, the man who had been his jailer back in East Moreland while James was still trying to find the words to say something the WO's giant fist slammed square into his face and the world went dark.