Chapter Three.......The Only One

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Juliet stood with her arms folded facing Rene. “The old man is dying,” she said. “He’s got the shakes bad, probably spent most of his life drinking hooch.”
Rene sat on the table, swinging his legs. “We’ll put him to work in the garden. What about the girl?”
Juliet forced a smile, she felt sorry for Mary. “Early teens. She’s healthy if a little undernourished.”
Rene slid himself off the table and put his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him. “Put her to work in the kitchens. A couple of years and she can join the others,” he laughed and lowered his face to her neck. Juliet stiffened and tried to pull away but Rene’s grip was too strong. “What about you, wouldn’t you like to join the others?”
“That wasn’t our deal,” she said, forcing a hand between them and pushing against his advances.
Rene laughed and pushed her away. “You’ll come round eventually, they all do!” With a laugh, he turned and left the room. Juliet turned and, still shaking, she placed the scalpel she had hidden in her hand onto the cart behind her.

She was born in a commune far to the north. It was started hundreds of years before in the catastrophe's wake. A group of survivors had banded together, led by a learned academic, and formed a community dedicated to maintaining the old ways. They farmed the land, searched far and wide for any remaining information on the sciences. They struck lucky. An old university building had a library which was deep underground, and much of its treasures had survived. Those that could read taught those that couldn’t. They built a school for their children and successive generations passed on that wisdom to their offspring. They built a clinic to treat minor injuries, a church to pray in and even a theatre for entertainment.
Juliet grew up and studied hard. She found she had an aptitude for medicine and read all the books she could find. She became the community doctor and treated emergencies ranging from cuts and scrapes to childbirth. She married John, and they raised three children. Life was good until the plague came. It started with a few coughs and sneezes. These developed into flu-like symptoms which rapidly became worse until death. Juliet had her work cut out trying to treat two hundred and eighty people spread out over a large area. Her own family succumbed one by one and finally Juliet herself. She lay down on her bed next to John and, after a week of chasing around tending to everyone, she fell asleep.
Juliet awoke next to her dead husband. She staggered from her bed and went to check on her children. Looking down at their small, still forms, Juliet realized that, for the first time in her life, she was alone and she fell to her knees and wept. Of all those people, she was the only survivor.

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At first, Juliet wandered from house to house, she rode from farm to farm, searching for some sign of life. Hoping to find someone, anyone. The knowledge that she was the only one left, took some believing on her part. She had an analytical mind and, at first, it refused to accept her loneliness without proof. Her belief was reinforced with each dwelling she visited until finally she accepted her fate and thought about survival. She realized she could not survive here alone. She was no farmer and she knew she could never manage to grow crops or tend fields and livestock. Their community survived mostly by arable farming but there were some animals. As she went around she had set them all loose to fend for themselves, she didn’t know what else to do. No, she couldn’t stay here.
Over the next few days, Juliet gathered what supplies she could carry on horseback and made her plans. Finally, when she was ready, she set off south to find life. She knew her journey would be fraught with dangers, but she reasoned that if her community had lasted this long then there must be others. Her survival would rely on her finding them.

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Her fears about her journey proved to be partially correct. She avoided the ruined cities and kept to the countryside. At night she slept under a makeshift canopy of branches and an old canvas sheet. She came across a few farms and small-holdings where it was obvious attempts had been made to eke out an existence, but they had all been abandoned. At one farm, the buildings were in reasonable condition and looked to have been repaired in recent years. She explored the house and found two long-decayed corpses in one room. The pair were huddled together on a mattress made from rags, stuffed with straw. She slept in a barn with her horse that night.
After four weeks she found herself as far south as she could go and had not seen a living soul.
Juliet sat on her horse, staring at the scene in front of her. A wide gorge snaked away into the distance in both directions. She dismounted and stood atop a high bank staring at the old river bed. It was wide, well over a mile, she thought. She had encountered riverbeds on her journey before and had managed to cross them, but this one was different. The expanse of mud at the bottom told her this one would be too perilous. She had no idea how deep it was and if the horse became bogged down, then they could both perish. Looking left and then right, she thought the river seemed to widen more to her left. So, making her mind up, she set off in a westerly direction. She had not traveled very far and, as dusk was beginning to creep up on her, she decided to make camp for the night.

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Juliet set off the next morning and as she rode she saw her impressions were correct. The gorge was definitely narrowing in this direction. She also saw, from atop a hill, the ruins of a city some miles ahead. If her schooling in geography and history were correct, then this could be London and the gorge could be the River Thames. Yes, she thought, if any sort of order had survived then surely it must be here. Her excitement was short-lived however as logic intervened. If so, she reasoned, then why had there been no contact before now? Surely any sort of government would have extended to the whole of the country by now. She sat on her horse atop the hill and pondered her next move. Should she venture into the ruins or try to go around them and continue south? Her original plan had been to head for the south coast if she found no survivors. From there she hoped to find a way to cross the channel between here and the rest of Europe. Juliet scanned the skyline for as far as she could see for signs of habitation but, she could see nothing. She was just about to lead her horse down the hill when she stopped and stared. Ahead of her, about a mile she reckoned, a faint wisp of smoke curled its way up into the morning sky. Questions flooded her mind. Fire, she thought. Too small to be a building on fire or a bush fire. Her heart leapt. A cooking fire then? Habitation? She wanted to gallop down the hill, but caution prevailed. She scanned the area around the smoke. It was amongst the ruins, on the bank of the river. There was no arable land around, no signs of human habitation. Juliet made up her mind and slowly rode down the hill and began picking her way through the ruins towards the smoke.

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Juliet’s assumption that this was a cooking fire was correct. She stood looking at the fiery embers, pieces of burnt timber stacked neatly around a centre of burnt twigs used as kindling. No haphazard fire then. Signs of human life. Hanging above the flames, an old tin can on a rusty wire bubbled away, boiling water. She tied her horse to an old concrete bollard and looked around. She was standing on a large square plateau which jutted out over the edge of the river. All around her, the ruins of old, long decayed buildings. One smaller building looked like it had seen some repairs recently. She started towards it and a voice stopped her in her tracks.
“This used to be a dock you know!”
Juliet turned and found herself looking at an old man dressed in animal skin and carrying a long metal rod with a pointed end. His hair was long, greasy and disheveled. Waving the spear in her direction, he gave her a ghoulish grin which showed off his black, rotting teeth.
“What you want ‘round here then? Waiting for the ferry are you?” He laughed a dry, rasping cackle. “You’ll have a long bloody wait.” He laughed again.
Juliet stared at the first human she had set eyes on in over a month and her heart sank. Was this all that remained of human existence? Was this the brave new world she had so desperately hoped for?
“Are you alone?” She asked.
“Oh no. Just me and the others.”
Hope sprang once more in her heart. “Others? What others?”
“Waiting to cross of course. Over there, I’ll show you.” He waved his spear in the direction of the ruins of a large warehouse-like building. Juliet turned and started walking towards the building. She reached the doorway, walked inside and froze. The scene in front of her made her want to scream. Seated on lumps of concrete and brickwork, in neat rows, were scores of decaying skeletons.
“You can join the queue now!”

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Some sixth sense made her turn just in time, as the point of his spear grazed across her shoulder. Juliet threw herself sideways and rolled into a crouching position. The old man was surprisingly swift as he came at her again. She stood and turned aside, grabbing at the spear as she did so. There was very little resistance as she yanked the spear from his grasp and she realized just how weak he was. Fear and anger gripped her as she swung the iron rod around, catching him on the side of his head. He went down in a heap, his body twitched once and then was still. Juliet backed away from his body and panting for breath, she sat down on a block of stone waiting for him to come to. She sat there a long time staring at his still form. How long, she wasn’t sure? Finally, when she realized he was not going to get up, she turned her head to look around her. A laugh, crazy with emotion, escaped her lips as she realised she was seated at the end of a row of rotting corpses.
Still shaking, Juliet walked back to her horse and rode away, heading further along the river towards the city. After a few hours, she reined in her steed and sat looking at four tall, slender steel pillars sticking up from the banks of the river into the sky. She realized there must have been a bridge here once upon a time. The span between had long since collapsed into the mud below. As she stared at the scene Juliet saw that the fallen roadway was in fact above the mud. Her heart raced as she realized this could offer a way to cross to the south side of the river.

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Juliet carefully led her horse onto the collapsed roadway. Up close she saw it was not all in one length however, its surface was covered with fissures and cracks. Some were wider than others, especially towards the middle of the river. Her horse took some coaxing as she slowly made her way across. They reached the middle with relative ease and here Juliet found her first major obstacle. A wide fissure, at least fifteen feet she thought, separated her from the next section. Her mind raced. Looking behind at the area they had just crossed, she saw it was largely in one piece with just a few small cracks. It was quite long too. Long enough for her horse to take a run and jump the gap? Juliet hoped so. She could think of no other way to cross. Making up her mind, she removed her saddlebags and, one after the other threw them onto the other side. Her back-pack with her most treasured possessions stayed on her back. Leading her mare all the way back to a safe distance, she concentrated on calming her down and reassuring her that all was well. Then, mounting her horse, Juliet took a deep breath and spurred her mare into action. The long run-up seemed to last forever, then suddenly they were in the air, flying over the gap as if it were nothing. Her horse landed her front legs on the other side, but her leap was too short. The mares' stomach hit the edge and left her hindquarters dangling over the gap. The impact threw Juliet over the horse’s head onto the hard concrete, winding her. Juliet scrabbled to grasp the reins again but, too late, her panicking horse slipped back over the edge and into the mud below. Looking over the edge, Juliet watched as her companion was quickly sucked into the mud below. She lay there, sobbing until night fell.

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Two weeks later saw Juliet stumbling through the ruins of the southern half of the city. She was cold, hungry and tired. After the death of her horse, she wandered aimlessly, looking for signs of human habitation and desperately seeking companionship. Finding shelter wherever she could, she was living off berries and fruit she found on trees in some of the overgrown green spaces still left. She boiled rainwater in her small bowl, her piece of flint providing the sparks to light a fire. Now, huddled in a corner of stonework, she soaked up the warmth from her small fire and slowly drifted off to sleep. She dreamed of home, her children and John. It was a soft, warm dream that she had enjoyed most nights since leaving her home. This night was different, however. There were noises, voices not of her family. She jerked awake, opening her eyes and realizing she was not dreaming. They were drawing closer and Juliet instinctively flattened herself further into the corner, desperately trying to blend in with her surroundings. Then she saw them, rounding the corner of her sheltered spot, the glow from her fire having given her away. Two men, one struggling to support his injured partner. They briefly stopped and stared at her before venturing closer to the warmth. Juliet’s eyes were drawn to the injured man's leg. Blood had soaked the man's jeans.
“He’s hurt.” She said. The tremor in her voice betraying her fear.
“Yeah! You don’t say.” The other man’s sarcasm cut her like a knife.
“I’m sorry.” Juliet paused. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she took a gamble. “Let me see if I can help. I’m a doctor.”
The first man had let his injured partner slip to the floor. He stared at her and said, “A what?”
Juliet grappled with his words. She knew what she was but obviously he didn’t. A doctor, she thought, what would he understand?
“I’m a healer, a doctor, you know a medicine woman,” she sighed.
“Oh, a healer. Why didn’t you just say so? Can you fix him? Stupid bastard fell off a wall and busted up his leg.”
Juliet got up and walked around the fire. She knelt down and looked at the man's leg. “I’ll have to cut open his jeans.” She looked up as the man handed her a knife, noticing he had unshouldered a crossbow and was now pointing it at her.
“I’ll have that back when you’re done.” He said.
She cut away the injured man's clothing and examined the wound. It was not life-threatening, she thought, but it was bleeding a lot. “How long ago?” She asked, looking up.
“Not long. Just before I saw your fire.”
“Have you any clean water?” She asked.
“A little.” He replied, taking a container from a pouch on his belt and handing it to her.
She took the flask from him, removed the stopper and put the neck up to her nose. It smelled musty.
Juliet handed the flask back to him and said, “I need my pack.”
The man walked round to her corner and returned with her back-pack. Still pointing the bow at her, he dropped it at her feet. She opened it and drew out a leather bag, from which she took out a bottle and some cloth. Soaking the cloth with some liquid from the bottle, she cleaned the man's wound and examined it more closely.
“What’s in the bottle?” The first man asked.
This was a moment Juliet had been dreading. If he knew what alcohol was, he would probably want it. This was all she had until she could find a way of distilling some more. She took a deep breath.
“It’s medicinal alcohol,” she said.
“What’s that,” he said, reaching down and picking up the bottle. It was his turn now to raise something to his nose. He inhaled and then smiled. “Smells like hooch.” He stoppered the bottle, tossed it back to her and laughed.

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Juliet had sewn up the injured man's wound, applied a herbal paste and bound it in cloth. Now she and the other man sat by the fire talking while her patient gently snored opposite them.
“What’s your name, healer?”
“Juliet,” she replied. “What’s yours?”
“Rene,” he said. “Where are you from?”
She relaxed, feeling more comfortable now in his presence. “We had a community up north. The plague wiped everybody out except me.”
“Yeah, the same thing happened to me in the west country.” He paused as his friend’s snoring grew louder. Picking up a small stone, he threw it at the man's head. The sleeper grunted and turned over, quiet again. Rene laughed. “Even when he’s asleep he’s a pain in the arse.”
They sat thoughtful for a while before Rene spoke again. “Where are you heading?”
“I was hoping to reach the coast and find a way to cross,” she replied.
“You won’t make it. It’s mostly mud. Thick, deep mud! Why don’t you come with us? We have a community of sorts not far from here. We could use a healer.”
Juliet thought for a while. “How many of you are there, any women and children?”
Rene smiled at her. “About a hundred or so. Men, women, and children. We have a large garden where we grow enough to feed everyone and a well for fresh water. You’d have your own room and we could fix up a place for you to heal any sick people. What do you say?”

That was two years ago and Juliet had regretted her decision every day since she arrived at the Anvil.
Now, standing in her sick room staring down at the scalpel on the wooden cart, she knew that one way or another, she had to escape from this place.