‘I’ll do it if you want . . .’
‘No, that’s alright. You go up.’ Jamie stood and Miriam held out his crutches. ‘Lead with your good leg to go up the stairs.’
‘My good leg? Okay, thanks. G’night then.’
‘Goodnight. God bless you, Jamie.’
Jamie lay awake in the darkness thinking about Miriam’s words. She had told him to breathe slowly and so he did. In through his nose and out through his mouth. All he thought about were the slow exhalations and inhalations. The pale face of the girl was banished into the darkness for now.
Sleep came quickly to him, but sleep was not his friend. His dreams were worse than ever – bloody montages of death and fear, screams and explosions. All his worst memories mixed together in a nightmarish concoction of guilt and terror.
When Jamie awoke the next day, he felt exhausted, as though he had fought in a battle. Sweat clung to his body and his heart rate was insane. The girl’s face was still imprinted in his brain as clear as if he were looking at her right now. This couldn’t go on. He couldn’t endure another night like that. He would have to stay awake forever, until he lost his mind completely. Maybe the nightmares were his punishment for everything he’d done.
Miriam had said Grey would be able to take the terrors away. Was she right? Did he have that kind of power, or was it just a load of religious nonsense? Anything was worth a go. At this point he would have sold his soul to the devil to get a good night’s sleep.
Chapter Nine
Riley
In the morning I felt stiff and cold. Exhausted. I remembered last night and had the feeling I’d made a total idiot of myself. Made a drama out of nothing. But then I remembered how Luc had spoken to me and I felt a surge of anger. He was wrong about Lou. She was a good person and I was going to help her. Just how I was going to do that, I had no idea. But I’d figure it out.
I splashed my face with cold water, trying to take down the swelling in my cried-out eyes. Then I dried my face, got changed out of yesterday’s clothes and pulled open the curtains. Daylight drowned me, making me scrunch up my eyes. I hadn’t seen the sun in a long time and it felt good, even though frost still laced the window panes. I bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I must have been the first one up. The kettle was cold and there were no dirty breakfast dishes. Breakfast these days was porridge, porridge or porridge. I missed my morning toast, but bread had been scarce for the past few weeks, so I had to make do. I shook some oats into a pan with a splash of milk and some water. Pa still had a ton of supplies, but it was the fresh goods we were lacking.
While I stirred the mixture, the image of Luc kept popping into my head. Thinking about him made me alternately cross, upset, or nervous; I needed to focus on something else. Getting hold of some fuel for Lou was the perfect distraction. First, I needed to lay my hands on the actual timber. And second, I needed a vehicle to transport it to the gypsy camp. The outline of a plan was forming in my head. It was risky, and probably a little foolish, but I wasn’t in the mood to worry about anything. I would just have to blag it. I made up my mind I would do it and I would do it today.
A burning smell wafted into my nostrils and I realised I’d neglected to keep stirring the porridge. It had stuck to the bottom of the pan and, as I scraped at it with the spoon, I saw it had turned into a sticky black mess. I’d have to salvage what I could and bin the rest. Cooking had never been my strong point.
I heard footsteps upstairs and realised I’d better move quickly before either of my parents came down. If I saw them, I might lose my nerve. I shovelled a couple of mouthfuls of partially burnt porridge into my mouth and scraped the rest into the trash, feeling guilty at the waste of food. I’d have loved a cup of tea before I left, but I didn’t have time, so I sipped at some freezing water instead, feeling the icy burn as it travelled down to my stomach.
Leaving the kitchen, I peered up the staircase and listened hard. The drumming whoosh of the shower started up. I didn’t have much time, so I slipped into Pa’s office and quickly located what I was looking for – the requisition pad in the top drawer of his desk. I tore off the top sheet and scribbled: ‘1 pallet seasoned timber plus transport for collection by R Culpepper’. Then, with a trembling hand, I forged my father’s signature and shoved the slip of paper into my back pocket, returning the pad to the drawer. Back in the hallway, I grabbed my coat, gloves and woollen hat and slipped through the front door as quietly as I could manage.
The air outside was still; the sun cold and bright as diamonds. The chill air cut through my jeans and sliced at my cheeks, but somehow I liked its fierce intensity. I’d soon warm up once I started walking. I held my hat and gloves between my teeth as I shrugged on my parka, zipping it right up to my chin. Then I put my gloves on and tugged my beanie down over my ears. Taking a couple of steps across the noisy gravel, I glanced back at the house, my heart still beating hard from what I’d just done. Ma looked down from the upstairs window and I waved. She mouthed something, but I turned away, pretending not to see.
Heading in the direction of the stores, I walked quickly. My cloudy breath puffed away from me as I tried to work out how I would play it with Denzil, who was on guard duty over there this week. Denzil had saved mine and Luc’s lives twice now and Luc had seen to it that he got a job as a guard in our perimeter. Denzil was ex-army, a good guy, but I still wasn’t totally convinced he’d help me out, despite the forged requisition order in my pocket. He might question it and want to speak to Pa.
I became aware of a figure up ahead. Someone running, getting closer. I stopped. He wore black tracksuit bottoms and a grey top, the hood pulled up. As he approached, he glanced up at me and slowed down to a halt.
‘Luc,’ I said.
‘Hey, Riley. You’re not usually around this time of the morning.’ He hadn’t shaved yet, and a haze of stubble shadowed his face.
‘What are you doing out here?’ I asked.
‘Running. I run every morning.’
‘Oh. I didn’t know.’
‘Gonna do some stretches and have some brekkie. Wanna join me?’
‘Uh, no thanks. I’m going to meet someone.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He jogged past me and turned around so he was running backwards for a moment. ‘Maybe see you later?’
‘Yeah,’ I said with a shrug.
‘Okay . . . well . . . see ya.’ He turned away and pounded on down the road towards his house. Well that was awkward. He’d been overly cheerful and we’d talked to each other like strangers without even acknowledging last night’s weirdness. I looked back at his receding figure and felt a pang of something. Then I shook myself out of it and carried on walking, Attempting to distract myself by focusing on the tiny birds which darted in and out of the neighbours’ hedgerows.
I crossed Glenferness and turned left, trudging down the curve of Leven Avenue, the slap of my footsteps sounding overly loud in the quiet morning air. Tall red-trunked evergreens lined the wide avenues, interspersed with cherry trees, oaks and sycamores. Saplings had been placed in amongst them and I marvelled at the excess of everything inside the fence compared to the barrenness outside. Sure, we occasionally ran out of things, but it was only ever an inconvenience; never a matter of life and death.
Up ahead, the high metal fence of the stores glinted in the sunshine and, as I rounded the bend, I caught a glimpse of the edge of the timber mountain jutting out behind the huge old manor house where the majority of our goods were stored.
Pa had his own underground supply of stuff, but it was secret and separate from these general perimeter stores. All council members (including Pa) were able to requisition supplies, but they had to first agree how much, who to, and when. So what I was doing was very much against perimeter rules. I stopped walking and took a deep breath. I could turn back now and no harm would be done. Lou wasn’t expecting anything from me, so why was I risking so much to help her? I guess I just didn’t like the inequality. I wanted to make her
life more comfortable. I’d never had a friend on the outside before. Pa’s and Luc’s attitudes irked me. If you couldn’t help out a friend, then what was the point of anything?
I crossed the road, stopped outside the gate and pressed the buzzer. Almost immediately, a guard stepped out of the brick-built hut at the entrance. His face broke into a smile and I grinned back at him.
‘Hey, Denzil.’
‘Hello, stranger,’ he said. ‘Haven’t seen you for a while. You coming in?’
Back in October, Denzil had helped me and Luc take FJ and Grey hostage, but I hadn’t seen much of him since.
‘I’ve got a req order from Pa,’ I said.
‘Hang on then.’ He went back into the hut and a moment later the right-hand gate swung slowly inwards. As soon as the gap was wide enough, I slipped through and followed Denzil into the chilly hut. He stamped his feet and crossed his arms, shoving his hands under his armpits for warmth.
‘How can you stand it?’ I asked. ‘It’s like an ice box in here.’
‘It’s not too bad. I do a lot of running on the spot and I stand outside in the sun when I can. Anyway, what can I do for you? You said you’ve got an order?’
‘Yeah. For some timber and transport.’
Denzil ran his finger down the chalk board on the wall. ‘I don’t have a record.’
‘No, you won’t have. It’s a last minute thing. After yesterday’s trouble at the compound, we’re delivering some supplies over there to calm things down. Pa’s sent me here, while he gets some other stuff.’ I knew I was starting to babble, and forced myself to stop.
Denzil looked at the forged order, appearing to think for a while.
‘D’you need me to get Pa over here?’ I asked. ‘I don’t mind. But he sent me to save time and going to get him will take a while.’ A light sweat broke out on my forehead. I would be in so much trouble if I got caught. Taking supplies could get you locked up. Kicked out of the perimeter even . . .
‘Nah, that’s okay, Riley. I’ve got his signature. That should be good enough. Go around back and see Pauly, he’ll sort you out with what you need.’
‘Cheers, Den. We’ll have to catch up properly when I get back. Come over for a cuppa when you get some free time.’
‘Sounds good. You and your dad go careful. I hear it’s pretty volatile in the 'pound these days.’
‘We’ll be okay.’
‘I know you will, girl. You’re badass.’ He laughed and I couldn’t help joining in.
‘What are you like, Denzil.’ I gave him a last smile before heading round the back of the big house to get what I’d come for.
Half an hour later, I was driving out through the perimeter gates into the wasteland of Bournemouth. I’d done the journey with Pa so many times in the last few weeks that I didn’t feel nervous out here anymore. All I felt was an anxious fluttering that Pa would find out. But I knew he had a million and one meetings to occupy him today, so hopefully my little foray would go unnoticed. The flatbed had been loaded up, a huge green tarp stretched over the top, but my illicit truckload hadn’t even made a tiny dent in the perimeter’s giant timber mountain.
The truck was a way harsher ride than the AV and much less secure. I hoped I wouldn’t run into any bandits. My Saiga lay across the passenger seat just in case and I also had two revolvers and my knife, so I wasn’t too worried. I hummed a tune to myself while I negotiated the bumps and dips of the heath, squinting against the sun’s glare and wishing I’d thought to bring my sunglasses.
It dawned on me that I wouldn’t be able to simply drive up to the gypsy camp with a truckful of firewood. They’d take one look and strip it clean in minutes. Then Lou might be left with nothing. And I wanted her to benefit. To at least get the credit for such a big haul. This meant I would have to park up somewhere, walk into the camp alone and try to find Lou first. Not ideal.
If I carried my machine gun, they’d treat me as a hostile, but if I left it behind, I’d be vulnerable walking outside on my own. I didn’t feel safe enough with only the revolvers. I really hadn’t thought my plan through properly. Maybe this whole thing hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
Once I was within half a mile of the compound, I cruised up and down the area looking for somewhere to park the truck. But this was exposed ground. There were no buildings or trees to conceal a large vehicle, or even a small vehicle for that matter. The landscape was all frosted earth and rocks. It was no good – I would have to risk driving up close to the gypsy camp.
Before continuing on, I stopped the truck for a moment and scanned the area. No one appeared to be around, so I hopped out and reached in for my Saiga, slinging it across my body. Despite the sunshine, the wind was vicious. I walked around the back and checked the tarp was still fixed on properly. I didn’t want any of my precious load to be visible when I rolled up to the camp. Either way, it wouldn’t make too much difference – a truck loaded up with anything was fair game out here.
It was always a rush to be alone out on the heath. The raw silence, terrifying yet beautiful. Inside the perimeter I was safe. I could walk around unarmed and relaxed. But outside, the safety catch was off. The silence deceptive. Anything could happen.
I wondered about before, when people had been able to walk around the country freely, unarmed with no fear of attack. As relaxed as if they were inside a perimeter. Apparently, there had been a proper army and a police force who would actually come to your aid if someone did something wrong, or even if they spoke to you in a threatening way. I wasn’t sure I believed those tales. I suspected that memory made it all seem rosier than it really was. People couldn’t have changed all that much, could they?
Well, whatever things had used to be like, they certainly weren’t like it any longer. And I doubted they ever would be again.
Satisfied the tarp was adequately secure, I climbed back into the truck, restarted the engine and continued on my journey.
Within a few minutes, the patchwork walls of the compound came into view, a huddle of dark shapes at its base. I decided to park up close to the settlement and wait for someone to approach me. Then I could ask them about Lou and hope they’d fetch her for me. I wish I’d thought to ask what her last name was. As I drew closer, I made out the shapes of makeshift dwellings – the tents and shacks and low barbed wire fences. Several gypsies with rifles stood and stared as I came closer, their faces weathered and impassive.
I drew up as near as I dared, not wanting to be perceived as a threat and risk them firing on me. I stopped the truck, but left the engine idling, and waited. One of the men leaned across to another and said something. They sidled through a gap in the wire and headed towards me. My heart sped up, but strangely my mind felt quite calm. I had to keep telling myself that I was doing them a massive favour by coming here. I was doing something good. Even though it didn’t feel like it.
The two men were youngish with beards, wearing layers of filthy clothing. One of them had a face-full of piercings – lip rings, eyebrow studs and a hoop through his nose. They were both skinny and hollow-cheeked with deep-set eyes. As they drew closer, I saw pure hostility in their faces and it took all my strength of will not to throw the truck into reverse and gun it all the way home.
‘What’s your business here?’ the man with the nose hoop called out.
I lowered the window a fraction. ‘I’m a friend of Lou’s.’
‘Lou?’ They took a few steps closer, their weapons still lowered.
‘Yeah. Fair-haired girl with two younger brothers. Lives up close to the compound wall.’
‘I know who Lou is,’ nose-hoop replied. ‘What d’you want with her?’
‘She helped me out yesterday. I’ve come to say thanks.’
‘Get out of the truck and I’ll fetch her over.’
‘I’d rather stay inside till she gets here if that’s okay.’
They stopped a few yards away and talked to each other in low tones so I couldn’t hear. By now, several other gypsies h
ad come close to the wire fence to see what was going on. I’d started to cause a bit of a stir – exactly what I hadn’t wanted to do.
‘Out of the truck,’ nose-hoop repeated, aiming his rifle at the windscreen. ‘Slowly. Hands in the air.’
I hadn’t come here for a gunfight, so it didn’t look as though I had much choice. I would have to do as he asked.
Chapter Ten
Jamie
Jamie spent the next couple of days recuperating. He took long cool showers and ate hearty home-cooked meals, but the problem was, he was still too scared to fall asleep. Despite his new safe environment, exhaustion crippled him. Shadows ringed his eyes and he had a constant hollow feeling of dread in his chest. Every small sound or movement made him jump. He was a bundle of nerves. Miriam and the other women were always busy so he didn’t get much opportunity to speak to them but, when panic threatened to overwhelm him, he remembered how she had taught him to breathe.
It was another hot summer’s afternoon and Jamie was trying to rest in the small yard at the back of the terraced house. At least these cotton clothes were clean and cool and comfortable. Better than his old falling-apart threads. He figured if he couldn’t sleep upstairs in bed, he might have more luck outdoors. After all, he’d been sleeping outside for the best part of sixteen years. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sleeping arrangements that were preventing him from falling asleep.
The yard was a clean bare space apart from a warped plastic chair and a leafy Buddleia tree which provided some much-needed shade. Amid its dying purple blossoms, a few fat bees buzzed among the branches, extracting the last few sips of nectar. Jamie was in that suspended space between waking and sleeping where everything feels heavy and warm. It was a luxury to relax without fear of being robbed or attacked. If he could only manage a catnap, well that would be something. But even now, with his eyes closed, the girl’s dead image was trying to show itself.
‘Jamie.’ A man’s voice startled him and he opened his eyes, bringing his hand up to shade them.
The Perimeter Page 6
