Safe Haven, page 16
"And how are you feeling, love?"
It hit Emma that with everything going on, she had almost forgotten about the pain. "Numb. I can't focus on anything other than this. My gran died, my little brother is catatonic, Mike is heading straight into the mouth of the beast...again. It's like there is so much shit swirling around me that I can't think about any of it." She paused and added, "Honestly, what do you think our chances are?"
Hughes wiped the sweat from his brow using his forearm and took another drink from the bottle. He swiped another swarm of midges away from his face and turned towards Emma. "Honestly love...I think we're up shit creek. I've known Shaw for years. He's always had his head screwed on, but it's like he's trying to make up for what he did. He fucked up big time when he did what he did to Mike and Lucy, and now I think he wants the slate wiped clean. He wants to prove himself. He wants to win trust back. He's so desperate that I think his good sense has gone out the window." He pulled another cigarette out of his top pocket and lit it up.
"But...why didn't you say anything. Why are you going along with it?"
"Why are you?" he asked. "Other than running, I don't have any better ideas and our Mike might be a fucking psycho sometimes, but give him his dues, he's never a coward. And he's right. What's to say we run and in six month’s time we have to run again, then again. What kind of life is that? This Fry and this army of his, they're armed, they're brutal and there are thousands of them. I don't care how well we prepare. I don't care how well we arm ourselves, we're not going to be able to keep them all out. I think this is it, love, but I'll be buggered if I'm not going to take out as many of them as I can before they get me." Emma took the cigarette off Hughes and inhaled a lung full. "I didn't know you smoked?"
"Like it matters now," she said handing it back to him and walking towards the bike. "I believed them for a while. I believed Mike and Shaw".
"As I said Em, I think Shaw is not himself right now...and Mike. I can guarantee, there isn't any doubt in Mike's head that we'll win this." He chuckled. "If we all ran, I'm pretty certain Mike would stand and fight alone. I love the kid, but...he's fucking mental." Hughes burst out laughing.
Emma didn't laugh. She sat astride the bike looking at Hughes. "He stands up to bullies, that's all," she said under her breath.
"What did you say?"
This time she was firm, and her eyes pierced Hughes. "He stands up to bullies. He always has. He stood up to my father. He stood up to that priest. He stood up to those men who took Beth. He stood up to Shaw, and he's stood up to Fry before now. Everybody else runs scared, including me. He was my little brother, and he made sure I was okay while he got the beatings of his life. He hasn't changed. He will always stand up and do the right thing because if you're doing the right thing, you can never lose. If you're doing the right thing, the bad guys can never win. They only win if they turn you into themselves...if they turn you into cowards. Mike will never let that happen. I'd rather stand by his side, and the pair of us face this army down together than turn and run. I didn't get that before. I didn't understand. I do now." The bike growled to life and Emma sped off.
"Fuck me," said Hughes to himself. "It's fucking genetic."
***
Sammy placed a full bucket of mussels down in front of Sarah before picking up an empty one and starting back towards the rocks.
"Hey," called Sarah after her. "You should have a little break and something to drink, Sammy."
"I'm fine, thank you," the young girl replied. "When I've finished here, I'm going to head to the woods and pick some mushrooms.
"You should be careful trying to do that Sammy, some mushrooms are dangerous y'know, sweetheart."
"Nanna Fletcher used to take me when I came to visit. She taught me which ones are dangerous and which ones are good. Just like she taught me about the different seaweeds and the different plants. Did you know you can eat the roots of dandelions?" she asked proudly.
"Erm, yeah, I did hear something about that," replied Sarah.
"Well, did you also know that you can make a kind of coffee out of them? There are Alexanders growing all over this area. You can cook them and eat them like asparagus. Cow Parsley can be eaten in salads, elderflowers are delicious eaten straight off the stem and you can also make elderflower cordial and elderflower wine. There is food all around us. We just need to know where to look."
"Did you have many friends in school?" asked Sarah.
"No...I tended not to mix," said Sammy.
"Figures," replied Sarah, smiling to herself.
***
Mike reached down and picked his rucksack back up, looping one of the straps over his shoulder. "We need to get going, we've got a lot of work to do," he replied, heading down the hallway towards the sign that said dinner hall. Shaw wiped his bloody face with his shirt sleeve and followed him.
He caught up, and they entered the large dining hall together. It was frozen in time. The small orange plastic chairs were all tucked in neatly under the tables, and it catapulted both of them to childhood memories of their own school dinner halls. Mike walked up to the large stainless steel serving area and leapfrogged over to stand where a hundred dinner ladies had stood before. He looked to see all the empty chairs that would never be filled again. All the large stainless steel serving trays before him that would once have been full of mashed potato, rancid baked beans, and sausages made of God only knew what, were also just hollow reflections of the past.
"Makes you think doesn't it?" said Shaw, experiencing exactly the same feelings.
Mike didn't respond, but turned to explore the kitchen behind him. He pushed open the swing doors, and his shoulders sagged when he saw rows of empty shelves and empty knife racks. He walked further in and started opening cupboards to be greeted by more emptiness.
"Fuck!!! He hissed, throwing one of the empty stainless steel knife racks at the wall like it weighed no more than a cricket ball. The knife rack made an echoing clatter before it finally came to rest. "Fuck!" he said again.
Then he heard something from behind the wall he'd thrown the knife rack towards. It sounded like a shuffling, thumping, bumping sound.
"Shaw?" he called, but there was no response. "Shaw?" he shouted louder this time, but once again to no response. Mike pulled the swing doors open to find Shaw in the position he had been in previously, but looking towards the dining hall doorway. "I was calling you," said Mike.
Shaw just raised his hand to silence him as he continued to look towards the entrance. The soldier, reached round with his other hand to pull his Browning 13 from his belt. He brought it up in anticipation, as Mike began to hear a noise more like a rumble than a shuffle.
"Fuck!!!!" they both cried simultaneously as the horde of RAMs burst into the dining hall. Children, teenagers, adults, grunting, growling that familiar foul, deathly gurgle. Shaw immediately began to take aim and fire. Head shot after head shot made the beasts crumble to the floor, but there were dozens...more than dozens. Shaw took a final shot, emptying his magazine, and jumped across the serving counter to stand with Mike who took aim with the pump action shotgun and fired wide spreading blasts into the advancing swarm of the dead.
"Mike, come on!" yelled Shaw, grabbing him and pulling him through the kitchen doors as the first of the creatures crashed into the serving bar. Some wedged from the force of the dumb beasts behind them, some began to crawl over, but more still shuffled the long way around to get to the kitchen. Mike nearly lost his footing as Shaw dragged him through. The soldier looked around and immediately put a wooden mop through the two door handles as the first of the RAMs tried to crash through. The wood bent badly and as hands reached through the gap, began to crack.
"Here, quick," said Mike taking one end of a sturdy stainless steel prepping table. Shaw took the other and the pair struggled with it across to the door, leaving scores on the polished tiles as they dragged it. "Come on, another," said Mike and the two of them pulled, dragged and pushed another heavy table into position, resting it against the wood. Arms reached through desperately hoping to grab something living. Ghoulish faces pressed against thin panels of safety glass and the sounds of the dead sang through the air, sending chills down the spines of their captives.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
"You know, Lucy, Mike would see this as defeat, planning an escape," said Raj as he sat on the infirmary steps. Talikha was beside him and Lucy stood with Beth.
"It's not defeat, Raj, it's sensible. We're going to put up a hell of a fight, but we have a responsibility to these people. They're not warriors, they're crofters and fishermen's wives and families. We can't expect them to do what a soldier can do. We just need options." Lucy looked at Talikha and then back to Raj. "We are the calm heads. We are the ones who have to see the bigger picture because right now, all Mike sees is red. He's taking Emma down the same path. I'm not saying we won't win Raj... I'm saying we plan to survive at all costs."
Raj took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, making a steeple of his two index fingers and pushed them up to his pursed lips. "Very well. I will assemble a small get away fleet in the bay next to the cemetery, but I beg you, not a word of this to anyone. Mike would see this as betrayal."
"Don't worry about Mike, sweetie, this is too big."
***
George was more relaxed in the huge mechanic's workshop than he was picking mussels on a beach or foraging for food in the woods. He had been designated with the task of weapons and munitions maker as well as getting several motor vehicles from various states of disrepair to full working order. Richard and David were working alongside him, and a few of the people he trusted from the Home and Garden Depot were providing the strong backs and nimble hands required. They had recruited some of the teens to scout and collect the supplies they needed. There was a makeshift production line on the benches. Molotov cocktails were being loaded into bottle crates that had been liberated from the cellar of the village pub.
"What are those?" asked David, pointing to two large plastic bins filled with some strange looking objects.
"Don't ask me," George chuckled. "One of Mike's requests. Tennis balls, a few nails through so they look a bit like the balls from a medieval ball and chain. Small hole in the top, fill it with sand, then seal it with a bit of mastic or whatever we've got. I'm guessing he's wanting to launch them at the enemy." George shook his head, "I don't tend to question Mike when he asks for something," the three men laughed. "But... I'm sorry to say, I think these are a bit pointless. The nails only stick out an inch to an inch and a half at most. I doubt very much if they'll kill anyone."
David picked one of the nail balls up. "They're heavy, they'd cause damage," he said.
"Damage, anything can do," replied George, "The battle we're about to fight, we need more than damage."
George walked outside with Richard and David. They passed several vehicles which were now in full working order including three motorbikes, a Subaru Impreza, three four x fours and a few smaller economical run-arounds. Although the raiders had stolen lots of stored fuel and even siphoned some, there were enough vehicles hidden and too far off the beaten track for them to find. The locals had managed to pull together a good store of diesel and petrol which would run the vehicles and the generators for a while.
David held a heavy open book in his arm. "Do you think they'll work?" He directed the question at George who slowly walked around five boat trailers. The team had constructed mangonels; medieval siege weapons that were relatively mobile thanks to the large trailers. Although some of the components had been switched, essentially they were to the original design that Richard and David had found in one of the comprehensive library of books they had brought. Mangonels had originally been created to catapult large rocks and stones at the enemy.
"I know they'll work," he said, pulling out a pipe from his pocket. He took out a small pouch and pressed tobacco down firmly into the chamber of the pipe before lighting it with an all-weather lighter that did not even flicker in the breeze. He inhaled deeply, and a self-satisfied smile appeared at one corner of his mouth. "We really fell lucky with the supplies. Having that boat yard here was a Godsend, the materials were perfect for what we needed. We'll keep making as much as we can while we can. These weapons won't really be an even match for what they have, but the high ground will give us a big advantage. These will be devastating on high ground." He paused and looked towards his two companions. "Y'know gents. If by some miracle we get through this, we're going to have to start again." He looked back into the workshop. “We will have to think about everything from hunting and fishing to travel and communication. I think the three of us work and think well together. I think we could help build something good out of the ashes of all of this." Richard and David smiled. They had always been outcasts, never vital parts of a team and now they had been told they would be instrumental in rebuilding society. The pair of them swelled with pride.
"We brought an awful lot of books with us. Mike insisted. Starting again wouldn't be a bad thing. Society was floundering long before this. Maybe we can build something better," said Richard.
George took another long puff on his pipe and let out a big breath of blue smoke. He nodded slowly. "I do like a good project."
***
Sarah was alone in the kitchen as Emma walked in. She had been co-ordinating the collection of food all day, keeping an eye on youngsters and old folk alike, and she was visibly drained. She sat at the table, her head leant against one hand as she tried to get her second wind.
"I've got something for you...but don't tell anyone." Emma reached into her rucksack and brought out a small jar of coffee.
Sarah's eyes widened further. "Where the hell did you find that?" she asked.
"I have my means," Emma replied, smiling.
Sarah gave Emma a hug. "You have no idea how badly I need this. I am desperate for a coffee. This foraging and organising lark is exhausting." Footsteps came down the hallway and Sammy entered the room.
"I've organised a group of us to go up to the woods to pick mushrooms," she said.
"Erm..," said Sarah unsure of the safety aspect of a young girl leading an expedition to pick mushrooms.
"Cool," replied Emma. "Take Gran's book and remember to look out for wild strawberries too. It's been mild this year, there maybe a few kicking about."
Sammy nodded, disappeared for a moment then reappeared with a procession of friends in tow including Annie, John and a number of the children from Sarah's school. They traipsed out of the door and Emma and Sarah both laughed.
"Your sister is something else," said Sarah.
"She is that," replied Emma.
This time it was Beth who came through the door. "Jake's been mumbling in his sleep. That's the first time I've heard a sound out of him since it happened. That's got to be a good sign, right?"
***
Sweat was pouring from Mike and Shaw as the pair just looked towards the doors, not quite understanding how everything had got out of hand so quickly. They turned to look around the kitchen. There was no exit, there were no windows, just a few skylights.
"That's the only way out," Mike said, trying to be heard over the sound of the RAMs.
"And how do you reckon we get up there?" asked Shaw.
Mike walked across to one of the serving tables and climbed on top. He jumped up with his hand stretched above him and was still around a two feet short of reaching the skylight. "We're going to have to put something on top of here and climb up."
"Put what on top? The tables weigh a ton, we can't lift those, and the stools are too narrow and too rickety for us to get up there."
Mike jumped back down and pulled the crowbar from his rucksack. He smashed it against the tiles and plaster around one of the kitchen wall cupboards and when enough fell away, he pushed the crowbar in and began to lever the cupboard off the wall. More sweat was dripping off him by the time the heavy stainless steel cabinet crashed to the floor. The loud noise riled the horde of RAMs into a heightened state of agitation and a deafening screech sliced through the air as one of the tables against the door inched across the tiled floor.
Not needing words, Shaw and Mike heaved the hefty cupboard onto the prep table and pushed it into position under the skylight. Mike then placed a stool on top. He climbed first onto the table, then onto the cupboard and finally balanced on the stool. He heard something and looked down to find Shaw had climbed onto the table and was holding the stool in position. Mike chipped away the plaster around the screws holding the skylight brackets in place, then used his signature brute force to finish the job, bringing the crowbar up with lightning speed and sending the thick Perspex fitting somersaulting onto the roof of the school. He replaced the crowbar into his rucksack, reached up and grabbed the edges of the gap. His muscles tensed and rippled as he pulled himself up. The fresh air washed over him in a wave of freedom as he climbed out into the open. He took a deep breath, then immediately turned back and extended his hand down to help Shaw climb out.
Shaw, stepped up onto the kitchen cupboard then carefully climbed onto the narrow seat of the stool and extended his hand up to Mike. For a second there was doubt in Shaw's mind as to whether Mike would help him out, but then he saw the younger man placing his other hand further along the skylight opening to get a better grip and reaching down. Just then, there was another piercing rip through the air and instincts overrode sense as Shaw twisted his head to look at the door.
"Noooo!!" Mike yelled as everything stuttered into slow motion.
Shaw turning his head down was enough to upset the balance of the stool which edged off the kitchen cupboard sending him tumbling. He landed heavily on his ankle which folded underneath him with a crack. Shaw screamed in pain and without pause, Mike edged his feet and legs into the gap to make his way back down, but this time it was Shaw who yelled, "No!"
"Mike, listen to me. I'm done for. This is it. Don't risk your life for a lost cause. Even if you get down here, how do we get back up?" Shaw pulled a fresh magazine from his bum bag and shoved it into the Browning with a satisfying click. He used his good foot to slide across to a cupboard to rest against. "These things are going to get in here eventually but right now I can buy a bit of time for you to round up a couple of stragglers. Let me do that at least. Let me pay you back for what I did to you and your family." Tears fell down Shaw's face. "Do you think we can call it even then?"
