Safe Haven, page 18
"How's my little brother?" Jakes eyes were closed, but the lids trembled as Mike spoke. "We're together again now, Jake. You, me, Sammy, Emma, Lucy..." he broke off. He was about to say Gran, but then it hit him like a lightning bolt. He stopped and swallowed hard. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes and he held Jake's hand tighter. "I need you to come back to me little brother. I need you to come back."
Mike dropped his head and his tears fell from his eyes onto the dirty black denim of his jeans. Sammy placed her arm around her older brother as he sobbed.
"Come back to us Jake," he stuttered again through heavy sobs.
Mike pulled his hand away from Jake's and wiped away the tears with his palms. He had been through so much in the past few months, the past few weeks, the past day. He had lost so much, but fought so hard to get things back on track, but now...now he was faced with one tragedy he had no power to fight. He shuffled free of Sammy's embrace and stood up. He walked across to the window and looked out at the ocean through his tears. He remained frozen there, lost in thought... deaf to the world around him. Deaf to...
"Sammy?" came the croaky voice.
"Jake!" she squealed and almost dived onto him. Her hysterical giggles began again. "Jake! You're back."
As if coming out of a deep sleep, Mike blinked and turned towards the bed. He saw his little sister squeezing Jake like he was a well stuffed teddy bear, and Mike's tears started again, but this time, they were tears of happiness.
***
"We've got about four hundred rounds for the SA80s...not many considering the numbers we're going to be facing," said Barnes as he stood on the stage with George and David. The audience consisted of Jules and her brothers, Emma, Lucy, Beth, Mike and Hughes; this was the war council. "The rifles themselves, thanks to Jules and her brothers, we've got forty-two. All told we've got about a hundred and forty able bodies, excluding kids," he continued. "There are about twenty including us who have fired weapons before, but none of Jules’ lot were trained."
"We can use them well enough," said Andy.
"Shut your hole, Drainpipe," replied Jules. "He's talking about proper training."
Barnes continued, "It makes more sense to distribute the lion's share of the ammo to the people who can do the most damage with it. I just really wish to God I'd brought the L115A3 with us, but I didn't really have time when we left Morecambe."
"Who wouldn't want a sniper rifle soft lad?" said Hughes, "but we fight with what we've got. The SA80s have about a 400 metre range and you're the best bloody sniper I've ever seen. We just have to make the shots count," he said winking at Barnes. "Now, George, how are things looking on your front?"
"Actually... quite good." George smiled and looked towards David. "We've built five mangonels. Each one should have a range of about 1300 feet. I'm sorry," he said turning to Barnes, "I'm old, I still work in feet and inches."
Emma looked around at the faces to see if she was the only one who didn't understand. "Mangonels? What are mangonels?"
"I'll be able to show you when we're done here. I was wanting to get them into position. They're an incredibly powerful catapult. They were used in medieval times."
Emma nodded and smiled, still oblivious to what they actually were.
"Doc, how is the infirmary looking?" asked Hughes.
Lucy let out a small snort of laughter. "Well, the infirmary consists of two static trailers now. I've got Talikha and Raj manning the place when...when everything starts. As far as supplies go, we're not in bad shape. We still have most of the kit we took from the ambulance and we've had a lot donated from home first aid kits, but you do understand? I'm not a surgeon, guys." She looked around at the assembled faces. "I'm a GP. I'll do the best I can do, but I can't perform miracles. I..." Tears appeared in her eyes, and Mike immediately took hold of her arm and led her out of the hall.
"I'm sorry...it's just a lot of pressure," said Lucy.
Lucy rubbed the palm of her hand across both her cheeks and swallowed. What she wouldn't give for an oxycodone tablet now—just one. "Luce, you've got this. I've seen what you can do and there is no one better equipped."
"Oh, yeah! I'm just a tower of strength."
Mike smiled and pulled her close. "Nobody is expecting miracles, Luce. We do what we can. We do the best we can." He kissed her on the forehead and gently wiped away the remaining tears with his thumb. "Come on," he said, taking her hand, let's get back in there".
As they re-entered, a discussion was going on that had everybody excited.
"So let me get this straight, George," said Hughes, "You think you could put one of the mangonels on a boat deck?"
"I'm not saying it would be easy," replied George, "but we've certainly got a couple of boats that are big enough and with enough manpower, we could get one of the mangonels hoisted on. Worst case scenario, it could go on in sections."
Hughes looked at Barnes, Mike, and the rest of them, a huge smile breaking out on his face. "Bloody ‘ell, why didn't we think of this before? We've got our own navy."
***
Fry sat on a rock, alone. The convoy had come to a halt. It was not as impressive as it once was. The coaches with welded metal panels did not look as robust as they once had. He had seen what had happened in Candleton. He had seen his army defeated. Only a small handful of motorbikes remained. They still had cars and vans. They still had men, lots of men, but not as many as there had been once.
"They don't respect you."
Fry's head shot up. His eyes still looked down to the convoy from that comfortable rock on the side of the hill, but he listened. He listened to the voice.
"You need to lead them. How many have deserted? Do you think this army was as big as when The Don was running things? Do you? Really? Because to me it looks tincy-wincy compared to then. There are still those who are too lazy to leave. Too scared to leave. But are they scared of you? I don't think so, honey. They're scared of facing life outside alone. The Don used to take the lion's share of all the spoils, but he was predictable. The men knew where they stood. With you, they don't have a clue. They're not loyal to you like they were to The Don. They will always be The Don's men. Mark my words, when an opportunity comes they will take it."
Fry turned his head, "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice broke with more than a hint of paranoia.
He was greeted with silence.
He turned around fully, searching his surroundings, but there was nobody there. He returned his gaze down to the convoy with a disconcerted frown. A figure broke away from the milling bodies and headed up to him.
"You okay?" asked TJ as he approached.
"Just getting some air," replied Fry.
TJ laughed. "We're in the middle of the fucking Highlands, that's all there is here." When Fry didn't even break a smile, TJ straightened his own face. "Are you going down to get some scran? Soup's not bad."
"In a while," he replied.
There was a pause and TJ turned to leave, "I'll see you down there then."
He was almost out of earshot when Fry spoke again.
"Our army doesn't seem to be as big as it once was," said Fry.
TJ stopped in mid stride. Was it an observation or a question? "We lost a lot of men in Inverness..." he replied.
"And?" replied Fry, sensing the evasion.
"... nothing. We lost a lot of men and a lot of resources." TJ began to walk away again before turning back once more. "You should really get something to eat," he said before continuing down the hill.
"He's hiding something from you. You think you can trust him, but you can't. He's plotting." Fry watched as TJ walked up to a group of men sat on the hard shoulder drinking their soup. They spoke for a few seconds and then all erupted into laughter. "See!" said the voice. "You need to start listening to me."
"I am listening," snapped Fry, turning his head and once again seeing nobody there. "I am listening."
"The men look up to him. The men like him. Who do you think they'd follow if he challenged you?"
Fry's head snapped round again. "TJ is my pal. He's always been loyal."
"Honey. I'm your only real friend. Your princess. Your queen. I'm the only one who knows you. I'm the only one you can trust. Don't let things get out of hand, daddy."
Fry closed his eyes, the lids flickering like a faulty light bulb. More laughter exploded from down below, and Fry's eyes shot open again. He focussed his attention on TJ. "All this time there's been a rat in the ranks."
"Come home soon, daddy. Your queen is waiting." A serpentine smile stretched onto Fry's face.
***
The Ford Fiesta came to a sudden stop, sending the gravel in the court yard of the camping ground flying through the air. Emma, Lucy, Mike and Hughes were in conversation, but all stopped when they saw the car enter. Due to the limits on fuel, travel was to be kept to an absolute minimum. Sarah had been tasked with handing out the orders and directions to the remaining inhabitants on the stretch of coastline. For her to be there, something was wrong.
Before the car had come to a complete stop, Sarah opened the door and began to climb out. "It's all going to hell!" she called out. Her eyes seemed puffed as if she had been crying.
"What is it, sweetie?" asked Lucy, putting a reassuring hand on her forearm.
"I did as we said," she replied. "I spoke to everyone in the village first thing. That was fine. I headed up the coast and there were a couple of houses where no one was home, then more and more and more. They've gone. They all picked up and left in the middle of the night. We've got the people here. We've got the people in the houses between here and just past Sue's place, but that's it. There isn't another soul. I couldn't even find anyone at the look out on the north ridge." She burst into tears again, and the soldiers broke away from the group, immediately stepping into action.
One of the static caravans next to the infirmary had been turned into an ops centre. A generator was running to keep that and the main infirmary powered. Hughes marched up to the desk and picked up a radio from its charger.
"North Ridge, this is base, over." Silence. Hughes released the speak button and tried again. "North Ridge, this is base over." Nothing. "East Ridge, this is base, over." Hughes looked at Mike, they both had worry in their eyes. The lookouts were the early warning system. Without them they were blind. The enemy could be on them with no notice.
The radio crackled, "This is East Ridge, pass message. Over."
Both Mike and Hughes let out a deep breath. "Thank Christ for that," said Mike.
Hughes hit the speak button, "Just a radio check," he replied. "You okay over there? Over."
"No sign of movement yet. You'll be the first to know when there is. Over."
"Ok, thanks. Over and out," replied Hughes.
"We need to get someone to the north ridge fast," said Mike.
"Jule's two brothers, what's their names?" Hughes snapped his fingers, trying to jolt his memory. "Y'know, not the dopey twat, the other two."
"I know which ones you mean," replied Mike. He picked up one of the spare radios and started to head out.
"Give them the Impreza and tell them to fall back as soon as they see anything. We need to get this situation unfucked right now," said Hughes. Mike nodded and left.
Hughes flopped into one of the arm chairs. What the hell were they doing? The "Ops room" was a bloody holiday caravan. Their vehicles were cobbled together leftovers. They were making medieval siege weapons. "Fuck me! I must have lost the plot too. Whatever you've got Mikey, it must be contagious."
Outside Sarah was still reeling. "I don't know what we're going to do. There's virtually nobody left."
"When you say virtually nobody, how many do you think we're talking about?" asked Lucy.
"I'd say we'd be lucky if there are ninety of us left. From here up the coast."
Lucy let out an exasperated breath. Emma snapped, "Fuck ‘em. We don't want cowards fighting with us anyway. Cowards turn and run when things get bad. Better they do it now than when we're in the fight." She looked towards Sarah, then at Lucy who both returned her gaze with shock. "Tell me I'm wrong. The people who are with us, by our sides, are here because they believe in what we're doing. They believe in what we stand for, they believe in what we're fighting for." She paused. "We're better with one of them than a hundred cowards."
"Emma..," Sarah began.
"I'm not an idiot, Sarah. I haven't gone mad. But all we need to do is make capturing this place too expensive for the enemy. The way we've planned this gives us the best chance of that. I know it's a roll of the dice, but it's better this than running for the rest of our lives, being chased to our deaths like wild animals in a hunt. Here, we have something to fight for. Out there, all we have is a reason to run. Do you want to do that for the rest of your life?" Emma spoke the last words softly.
"No," Sarah looked down. Her voice was barely perceptible.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The kitchen back at Sue's place was a hive of activity. Soups, stews, bread were all being made in batches. Sarah's girls were the backbone of the operation. There were a couple of villagers helping to prepare sandwiches too. This was the obvious place to have the food preparation. Sue had grown a lot of produce, she had also prepared a lot of food for village functions, and Daisy, the goat, was still producing milk. There was a bay below where seaweed could be harvested, as well as mussels picked off the rocks and there was still the odd small fishing boat that ventured out, even today. The troops needed to be fed.
Dora gestured to Jenny to try some soup. Jenny ladled some into a bowl and cut a doorstep slice from a cooling loaf. She dipped it in the soup and smiled as she tasted it. "Delicious," she said and Dora beamed momentarily before beginning to portion the soup out into an array of thermos flasks that had been collected from households up and down the coastline. No one knew what to expect if and when this assault came, no one knew how long it could last, but everybody was going to contribute in any way they could.
***
George, Richard, David, Barnes and Hughes were all assembled at the dock. They had one of the mangonels on a trailer and George had managed to erect a hoist to get it onto the deck of one of the fishing boats. Once it was on board, they would bolt it down. They had tied a wooden rowing boat to the stern. This was going to be used to transport the rocks, stones, and other munitions that would be catapulted towards the enemy.
The men worked well together as a team. For George and the soldiers this was nothing out of the ordinary, they had worked in teams all their lives. For the librarians though, they began to feel an air of self-worth they had never felt before. To be relied upon, to be valued, to be listened to—this was something they had not experienced before. It had been Mike who had brought them here. It had been Mike who told them they mattered, that they could be instrumental in building something new. As the large siege weapon thudded onto the deck, Richard and David steadied it to counter the movement of the boat on the gently rocking waves.
"Nice work lads," said Hughes looking down at the mangonel. "This wouldn't exist without you two. You have no idea, how much of a difference you've made to our chances." Hughes broke his gaze, "Now come on, let's get this bugger bolted down otherwise our navy will last all of five minutes."
Barnes jumped across with a power drill, and some other bits of hardware, and the team got to work on fixing the huge catapult to the deck.
***
Beth was already at the barricade when Jules and Andy arrived. Even though the road was open and completely passable, and even though they were a couple of hundred feet above, it was still called the barricade, because if all went as it should, that is what it would become. The plans, although hastily drawn up, were brilliant given what resources and amenities were available. The intricacies of them had been discussed time and time again as had the execution. Many people followed blindly, but some knew exactly what should happen and how it all worked.
The ridge peak was bustling with people digging, with people carrying large stones and boulders, with rocks being rolled into place to provide cover from enemy fire. The only way onto the ridge was either by an awkward rock climb or a trail that led to it from a sharp turn one hundred metres further down the road. It was unassailable to the enemy unless they actually got through the barricade, or for some reason, the barricade didn't deploy. If that happened, all bets were off and they had already lost.
Jules and Andy surveyed their surroundings. Tents had been put up. One of them had a red cross on a white background. Two smaller ones had the words MALE and FEMALE painted on the outside. These were crude toilets which gave someone a little privacy to use a bucket, which was then to be emptied into a pre-dug ditch, and covered with soil or sand. It was all crude, it was all basic, it was all ugly, but it was all they had and all they would have until this was over.
"Where do you want us?" asked Jules, un-shouldering her SA80.
"We're just waiting for George and his...anti-tank guns," said Beth.
Jules and Andy let out a small laugh. The plan to build siege weapons had sounded mad originally, but it made perfect sense to them now. George and his helpers had worked around the clock to build them and the terrain of the coastline and the steep incline of dead man's pass was going to make them devastating.
Beth had been given precise instructions as to how the areas should be prepared. Two sections of ground had been levelled off and a mound of earth and rocks had been piled in front to make the mangonels invisible from the road. All this work had been done by the small group of people with her. There had been no mechanical diggers for this operation, but shovels and picks and blood and sweat. The tears would come later.
"Was that Rob and John I saw shooting by earlier?" asked Beth.
"You heard what happened?" asked Jules, keeping her voice low. Beth nodded. "Well, they're heading to the north ridge. They're our lookouts," she said as the drone of engines whined through the morning air. The three of them turned to see a pick up and a land rover struggling and wheel spinning up the trail, both with trailers in tow. Hughes and George were driving the two vehicles, while Richard and David were in the passenger seats. They had picked Mike up on the way. Time was of the essence now, and he wanted a full debrief from George about what weaponry they had at their disposal. Mike was impressed by what George had managed to do in such a short time, and felt a pang of guilt about not letting him in on the full plan.
