Ducie by Chris Freeman
Chapter 49. The last walk
Lionel had sensed that Jennifer wasn’t there, even before he opened his eyes on the morning of his execution. Not just that she wasn’t lying beside him in bed, but that she wasn’t in the house at all. That she wasn’t close by at all. He ate breakfast alone. A modest bowl of porridge, which he enjoyed as much as he always did. As he dressed himself, he considered the possible reasons his wife was not here with him on the morning of the day he was scheduled to die. Had she gone to fetch food, or water? Gone for a walk to clear her head? Or perhaps something more serious. He hoped she hadn’t done anything silly on his account. He knew Jennifer was struggling with the idea of him dying. It was an idea he’d made his own peace with over the past couple of days. He was ready to go. Ready to die for reasons he didn’t understand, but fully accepted.
The time seemed to pass quickly, despite him being alone. He checked the clock: 10:37am. He had to meet Eduardo at 11:00am. The walk to Eduardo’s Estate was ten minutes at most; even taking the longer route he had planned to walk to take in the full beauty of the coast for a final time. Lionel took the two capsules off his bedside table and swallowed them using just his own saliva for lubrication. Jennifer was still nowhere to be seen, but it was time to leave. He had no choice. The thought suddenly struck him that he might have seen his wife for the last time. Admittedly, he was slightly surprised that she would sacrifice seeing him one last time, but he was sure she had her reasons. Perhaps she was too upset to face it; and that was ok if she was.
On route to the King’s Estate, Lionel contemplated the idea of death for what it really was. Eternal nothingness. Forever. An endless road with absolutely no perspective from which to decide whether the time was passing quickly or slowly. Because he wouldn’t be around to see it. He didn’t believe in a God or a heaven. Lionel’s logic led him to the sobering conclusion that the afterlife would feel exactly the same as the before-life. He didn’t remember what it was like before his life begun, therefore why on earth would he be aware of anything after it ended? For the first time, the thought of what death really was dawned on Lionel. The absolute permanence of it. The total obliteration of his consciousness. Simply forever.
He knocked the door to Eduardo’s Estate and as if he’d been standing on the other side all morning waiting for him to knock, Eduardo swung the door open instantly. The frail King of Ducie looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He squinted at Eduardo through glazed eyes that looked like they held the moisture of fresh tears, though Lionel couldn’t be sure.
- Lionel, my boy. Come inside.
Lionel took a deep breath of that sweet island air. Not his last breath by any means, but he knew they were numbered. He savoured the sensation of the open space for one last time before following Eduardo inside.
Lionel took a seat in Eduardo’s office and waited for the old man to make his move. Part of him wondered whether he might be killed here and now. As Eduardo fumbled in his desk drawer, Lionel half expected him to pull out a gun and shoot him without warning. In an odd way, that would probably have been preferable to the torture of living these lingering and tormenting final moments of his life.
- How will you do it?
Lionel’s question surprised even himself and seemed to come from a voice inside him over which he had no control.
- The execution?
In reality, Eduardo knew exactly what Lionel was referring to.
- Yes…. How will you kill me, Eduardo?
- Gunshot….
Eduardo’s eyes welled up with moisture again. His voice cracked, as he struggled to stay in control. It felt far too real now it was happening. As bad as he’d pictured it when he’d lay awake through the small hours of the night.
- ….It will be multiple shots to the heart. You’ll go instantly Lionel. Peacefully. I know it doesn’t sound peaceful, but please trust me when I say you won’t know anything about it.
- Will it hurt?
- Lionel…no. You’ll be in the arms of God before the last shot is fired.
Lionel nodded acceptingly. His head bowed.
- Eduardo….Sir. I don’t want you to feel bad about this. When you pull that trigger, do it with pride. With certainty. Do it knowing you’re fulfilling God’s will. Ducie’s will.
Eduardo took on a disturbed look, which added a further impossible layer of torment to his already traumatised mind. He almost had to force the next words out.
- It won’t be me pulling the trigger Lionel.
- Then who?
Lionel’s mind tried to embark on a whistle-stop tour of other candidates that might have been assigned to pull the trigger to end his life, but came up blank.
- There’s something you need to know about Ducie, Lionel.
There was a lot Lionel needed to know about Ducie, but the drugs had kept him from questioning any of it up until now. He nodded a nervous, unspoken invitation for Eduardo to continue.
- I have a support team living with me, here in the Estate.
- You what? Here? Where?
Lionel seemed confused, offended almost. Eduardo rose to his feet and limped to the door they’d entered the study through, motioning to someone outside. A group of men entered the study one by one. Each man seemingly larger, broader, more stern looking than the last. Lionel watched, amazed at what his eyes were seeing, but his brain knew couldn’t be happening. The 5th man entered the room and closed the door behind him.
- What….Who…..
Lionel’s words got lost in a tidal wave of confusion that was all-consuming.
- Meet my support team, Lionel. These men will ensure your execution runs smoothly. These will be the men to pull the trigger.
- What? All of them?
Lionel laughed at his own suggestion, but he was far from amused. Nerves were ruining him.
- They’ll all fire a shot to your heart, Lionel. 5 men. 5 shots.
- Who are these men?
- Charles, Luis, Stanford, De……
- I don’t care what their names are. Why are they here? Are they part of the 61? How does this work? I thought the law said…
- They’re visitors, Lionel.
- The law says no visitors to Ducie!
Lionel hadn’t meant to shout, but he was past being concerned about his manner. He was about to be killed by these strangers, so what did it matter?
- Lionel, be at peace my boy.
- Fuck you at peace! You lied! You bastard! And where’s Jennifer? Where’s my wife. My baby?
As the questions flowed from Lionel, so did the tears, as despair morphed into confusion and then to anger.
- I don’t know where your wife is Lionel. I’m sorry she couldn’t be here for you.
Eduardo heard his own words and they sounded believable, despite the fact that he knew they weren’t true. Despite the fact that Jennifer was in fact being held with Lionel’s friend Lucas in the basement below the very room in which they sat.
- Bullshit! Bullshit, Eduardo! If there’s room on Ducie for these punks, there’s room on Ducie for me too. Fuck all of you!
Lionel leapt from his chair and charged towards the door at lightening speed, like if he moved quickly enough, he would somehow pass through the wall of 5 men currently guarding it. Needless to say, this didn’t happen. The shortest of the 5 smothered Lionel to the ground with an equal amount of care and force. It was clear that he didn’t intend to hurt Lionel unnecessarily. Lionel let go a deafening scream that was more a war cry than a scream of pain or despair. A war cry that indicated that his intentions were to go down fighting.
- Fuck yoooooooooou! Bastards! Bastards! Bastards!
He lashed a blow that glanced the face of the man pinning him to the floor, prompting his 4 colleagues to swarm all over Lionel. After what could only have been 2 or 3 seconds of struggle, 4 of the 5 men had secured one of Lionel’s limbs each in what seemed like a pre-rehearsed restraint technique. The shortest bruiser stood up, a small drop of blood seeping from his right
- Take him out to the quad, Frank