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    Broken Humanity
    Broken Humanity
    Broken Humanity
    Ebook104 pages1 hour

    Broken Humanity

    By Karine Vivier

    5/5

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    About this ebook

    “Broken Humanity” tells the story of three characters who, somewhere along the way, have lost touch with humanity in the eyes of society. Three characters, three parallel stories, a common thread. A debut thriller.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKarine Vivier
    Release dateFeb 2, 2019
    ISBN9781547568604
    Broken Humanity

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    • 5/5
      fabulous book wish it was longer its a really grabbing book which keeps you reading

    Book preview

    Broken Humanity - Karine Vivier

    Broken Humanity

    Karine Vivier

    Translated by Kirsty Catriona Olivant 

    Broken Humanity

    Written By Karine Vivier

    Copyright © 2019 Karine Vivier

    All rights reserved

    Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

    www.babelcube.com

    Translated by Kirsty Catriona Olivant

    Cover Design © 2019 2LI

    Babelcube Books and Babelcube are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

    ∞∞∞

    The water reached the middle of the girl’s thighs. Eyes half-shut, she abandoned herself to the caress of the waves that lapped gently on her legs. The shouts and laughter of the other children splashing around in the water without a care in the world reached her ears like a muffled murmur. Once upon a time the girl had been one of them, in what seemed now to be a very distant past. Back when Daddy was still alive. Daddy. How long was it since he went to heaven? She couldn’t remember. She’d lost all track of time since she stopped going to school. Now every day was just like the next. She scrunched up her eyes in a final effort to remember. Her daddy. Big and strong. He would lift her off the ground as if she were as light as air. She tried to remember the colour of his eyes, but the image faded. The girl focused on a point out at sea and it seemed that if only she were able to reach it, the memory would return as if by magic. She waded a little further into the water. The sea was calling her. She felt the urge to go in deeper and deeper until the swell enveloped her completely, but before she could take another step a hand grabbed her brusquely by the shoulder.

      ‘For Christ’s sake! What are you playing at? I've been calling you for an hour. We’re going to end up attracting attention if you don’t stop buggering about.’

      The sun in her eyes, the girl replied, ‘I want to learn to swim.’

      The slap came hard and fast.

      ‘I didn’t bring you here to enjoy yourself, got it? You need your head examined. What have you got to gain from learning to swim? I’ve got more pressing things to worry about. Important people are counting on me, you little twat. Get it?’ the man grumbled, giving the girl another slap on the back of the head. ‘Get to work and stop shirking. You see the little blond lad sitting on his own over there? Go play the big sister. You know what to do. I’m going to sit on the stairs by the jetty. And get a move on – I’ve got a meeting at six on the dot.’

      The girl did as the man said and went to sit next to the child. He was maybe around four years old. It was all perfectly thought out. She struck up a conversation as if on autopilot. ‘Hi, can I play with you? What’s your name?’

      ‘Paul,’ the child replied.

      Strawberry-blond hair framed his face and green eyes. His features were so delicate that if his hair had been any longer, he might have been mistaken for a girl.

      ‘Do you know how to build tunnels for cars?’ the child asked.

      ‘Are you on your own?’ the girl enquired, looking around as she’d been taught to.

      ‘No, I’m with my nanna.’

      ‘Where’s your nanna?’

      The child pointed to an elderly woman who was engrossed in a book, about three metres away the girl guessed. She was quite portly; she wouldn’t be able to move very fast. The man must have figured that out right away. The girl plunged her hands into the sand to make a trench. The child’s eyes lit up and he smiled. ‘Are you going to build me a tunnel?’ 

      ‘Yes,’ the girl answered.

      ‘I’m so lucky. You’re nice.’

      The girl set to building tunnels while the child methodically pushed his toy cars across the sand, making engine noises. The child gave her a look of appreciation but the girl stubbornly kept her head down. Despite the distance between them, she could feel the man’s anger and impatience grow as he waited by the jetty. She looked up at the child and hastily asked, ‘Are you hungry? Would you like a snack?’ 

    ‘Oh, yes. You’re really nice,’ the child replied.

      He was still smiling at her and the girl averted her eyes. Something unsettled her, even though she’d been through this dozens of times without giving it a second thought. It was always the same old story. ‘You’re not here to think,’ the man had repeated time and again, ‘you’re here to do what I tell you.’

    The first time was on another beach that looked just like this one. She’d lured another little girl away, younger than her, to have a snack in the van parked near the jetty. The man in the vehicle smiled when the two girls reached him. ‘Oh, what am I thinking?’ he mused, getting out of the van. ‘I left the biscuits in the boot.  You get in the front,’ he added harshly.

      He opened the boot and pushed the other girl inside. She started screaming at the top of her lungs as the lid slammed shut. Then the van sped away and they drove at breakneck speed for hours. Worn out, the girl finally dropped off, her face pressed up against the window. What had happened next was all a bit of a blur.

    ∞∞∞

    Denis Papin was used to getting up at the crack of dawn. His body worked like clockwork and he didn’t sleep much. His sleeping problems had started when he was in prison and hadn’t gone away, even since his release. During those ten years behind bars, he thought he was going to go mad.  Especially at night. Cloaked in the darkness of his cell, he kept his eyes open, waiting, his heart racing. The slightest noise made him jump and sit bolt upright in his bed. Anything could happen, he knew that. They’d told him so. In the nick, guys like him ended up with a blade in the guts. The showers, the canteen and the yard had become an ordeal that punctuated his day-to-day existence. Denis Papin lived in fear of his life.

      But nothing had happened to him during his first few months inside. Whenever a fight broke out he sidled off, quickening his step as he went. He never mixed with the others but kept his distance and tried not to attract attention. The other prisoners never said a word to him. Nobody asked him questions, not even the guards. It was as if he didn’t exist, as if he’d become invisible since he’d been between those four walls. He ended up telling himself that nobody knew who he was. From time to time he saw other guys go through hell. Shouts, screams, sobs and the sound of blows reached his ears as he sat in his cell. Terrified, he stared at the walls, waiting for his turn to arrive, but nobody showed any interest in him. They left him to his own devices. Until that fateful day.

    It was the 16th of February.

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