Oscar Read Free Page B

had no interest in harming a child. As it would turn out, they were victims just as much as he was.
    Sam sat up finally, still dazed. ‘Who are you?’ he asked groggily.
    ‘We’re trying to get as far away from London as possible.’ the leader of the group explained. ‘We’re being hunted by the government for being Scottish.’
    ‘I’ve heard about people like you.’ he replied. ‘The government is calling you non-pure bloods, for want of a better term.’
    ‘That’s right, we are – but we’re not here to create a war this side of the border, we just want to get home.’
    Sam stood up, and Oscar ran to his side.
    ‘Do you think they’ll feed us, Sammy?’ he asked, his famished stomach grumbling.
    ‘I don’t know.’ he groaned, holding his bruised left side.
    Oscar dared to walk up to the Scotsman to ask him for a bite of the burger the man was brandishing in front of him.
    ‘Please, mister. Can I have a bite?’ he begged.
    ‘No you can’t, wee boy.’ said the burley Scotsman, before adding, ‘but I can make you your very own.’
    Again, he grinned from ear to ear. ‘Can my friend have one as well?’
    ‘Now, you’re pushing your luck, boy.’ the Scotsman smiled. ‘Of course he can.’
    Oscar ran back over to Sam, grabbed his hand and walked with him to the wagon for their share of the spoils.
    They ate until their bellies were fit to burst. Some of the group members hadn’t eaten properly in days, whereas others had resorted to eating dead, maggot-infested animals from under their feet. It was the way things were heading. Food supplies were being rationed to the point of lunacy, and the only way forward was learning how to be resourceful. Sam and Oscar had been fortunate so far. They had had food in plentiful supply, but it was only a matter of time before they too would struggle to find their next mouthful. Bleak times lay ahead in the wake of the war: not just for the victims of the witch hunts, but for everyone still breathing and living within the government’s evil grasp.
    #
    With their rest period over, they decided it was time to part ways with their Scottish brethren. They would leave them to go about their separate journeys, as the Scottish would surely be heading in the direction of the Watford gap. It was the only safe way to the North, and to their country. The South was no longer an option.
    The Scots would take the North Circular road, and its counterpart, the South Circular, would take Sam and Oscar to where they needed to go. They would need to go a couple of miles farther to reach Woolwich and take the ferry from there towards Catford. Their final destination was Dartford. The ferry was the only form of non-military transport left for the people to use; the government had at least extended them that.
    There was no allotted time for reaching their destination, as long as they got there safely. So far, with the exception of the food wagon, their journey had been incident-free. The ferry loomed in the distance and Sam glanced down at Oscar.
    ‘Come on little man, we’re nearly there.’
    He scooped Oscar up and ran with all his might, seeing the barriers closing for departure.
    ‘Wait!’ he screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that the ferry attendant would hear him. But the barrier came crashing down, and the ferry let out an ear-piercing screech to mark the beginning of its journey. He put Oscar down and squatted, placing his head in his hands out of frustration before realising that it wouldn’t be long before the ferry returned. It was only a fifteen-minute journey one way. The most they would have to wait would be an hour, but it was still an inconvenience. He wanted to get to Dartford sooner rather than later; the darker it got, the more the hazards would grow.
    #
    Sam could see the ferry returning in the distance. Oscar had been dosing while they waited.
    ‘Come on, little man – the ferry’s docking.’ he said, as he nudged him awake. ‘We need to get to