Retrospect: The Reckoning of Mac Scott by Forton A.J

Author:Forton, A.J
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-19T00:00:00+00:00

After two hours’ waiting there was no movement in the basement and the light in the boarded window remained on. I wandered each corridor that led in the direction of the building and it’s become clear that the way to the basement isn’t through these halls. The building that towers above it is separate and not for me to investigate tonight. It’s hard to walk away without answers, but now is not the time to be reckless. I didn’t go through all of this just to blow it by rushing in. So, I drag myself away and make my way back towards my quarters.

“Kid, I’m handing over to Dixy in a moment. I just wanted to check in before I go.” Alfred reports.

“Thanks Pa, I’m sorry I got a bit weepy, but I’m okay. I need to talk to Dixy anyway.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad I could be here for something. I feel pretty damn useless most of the time.”

“Pa, you aren’t useless. I don’t know what I’d do without you. And for what it’s worth, Anna isn’t the only Slone that I miss.”

“Right back at you Kid, right back at you.”

When I pass back through the women’s service wards, I know I’m getting close to the inhabited area of Aldershot. I’ve learnt this part of the route now which for me is good, I hate getting lost. I walk through the dining hall and decide to scavenge some food. At this hour there won’t be any hot food on offer – I have missed the dinner service – but I may be able to pick up some decent leftovers. The server is there, stacking catering tins of beans and tinned tomatoes, getting ready for tomorrow’s breakfast. They offer me some cold chicken and stuffing, which I gladly smother with mayonnaise and stick in between some bread.

When I take a seat at the dining table, I can just about feel the warmth of the fireplace on my back. The flames are low and the embers are glowing.

“Good evening, Maximus Prime.” Dixy calls inside my ear and I smirk around a mouthful of chicken leftovers.

“There really is no limit to how many different nicknames you can derive from Max, is there?”

“I bloody hope not.”

I can hear the grin in her voice and it’s nice. One day, I’m really going to have to find a way to thank Dixy. I may bitch and groan about her humour, but she keeps the darkest of moments light in a way that only she can. I think I’ve underestimated how much it has helped me through all of this. She is the kindest oddity of a friend that I could ask for.

“What in the chicken fuck-nuggets are you eating?” Dixy asks, with clear disgust.

“A chicken, stuffing, and mayo sandwich.”

“Why would you ruin it with mayo? You are destroying the stuffing flavour. You are some kind of sandwich heathen.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Dix.” I mumble around a mouthful.

“Not likely. Oh, Alfred told me at handover that you wanted to talk to me about something.

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