The Perimeter

by Shalini Boland

  ‘But that means they’re killing hundreds of our men. How is that possible?’

  ‘Our men are good soldiers. Taught never to flee from an enemy, but they’re caught in a crossfire.’ The man lowered his eyes.

  ‘Where are the gypsies now?’

  ‘Still out there, trying to get to the gates. At this rate, they’ll have wiped out all the guards we stationed outside within the hour. We’ve got a few of our men firing from the parapets, but the enemy destroyed most of the platforms up there before they fled. We can’t access the rest of the wall to fire down at our attackers.’

  ‘Are there any platforms left at all?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘One.’

  ‘I need you to get me up there.’

  ‘Sir,’ the warrior said. ‘It’s too dangerous. You’d be a target.’

  ‘Don’t argue. Get me up there.’

  ‘Let me go up with you,’ Jamie said. ‘Take four of us. We can shield you.’

  Matthew nodded. ‘Let’s go now,’ he said.

  They swept along the corridor and back outside.

  ‘Who are these gypsies?’ Matthew asked. ‘What do they want? Are they mercenaries? Do they want money? Are they trying to take this perimeter for themselves? How many are there?’

  He kept up a steady stream of questions, but as yet nobody knew the answers. And they were all still reeling from the news about Grey’s death. Jamie wondered if it was true. He thought it was very likely. That meant Matthew was their new leader.

  Through the torn gates, Jamie saw the surging bodies of their warriors trying to keep this new enemy at bay. He heard raucous cheers beyond. Whoops and whistles, battle cries and rapid trills of machine gun fire. More of Matthew’s warriors were attempting to get out through the gates to help engage the gypsies, but each time a group tried to leave, they were driven back inside.

  At the base of the wall, one of their men passed Jamie a megaphone. He carried it with him as he climbed the ladder, a tricky feat in his disciple’s robes. The Voice of the Father climbed up after, followed by three other disciples. It was quite a climb and Jamie fought off a wave of dizziness, unused to being this high off the ground. At the top, they arranged themselves on the narrow platform, next to the marksmen who were already up there. It didn’t feel too stable.

  Making sure that The Voice of the Father was not exposed, Jamie peered through the razor wire to witness a scene of total devastation below. Rows and rows of fallen warriors, as well as those still alive, pinned back against the fence and fending off the gypsies with little or no ammunition. It was a bad joke. How could this be? Their warriors were trained for battle. They were the best of the best. But they’d been trapped without enough weapons or bullets to fight back.

  Jamie passed the megaphone to The Voice of the Father.

  ‘Ceasefire!’ Matthew called out through the loud speaker. ‘Ceasefire!’ Even over the noise of the battlefield, his voice carried authority.

  Shouts rose up from below, along with more shots and catcalls. Matthew waited, his face rigid and tense, his eyes steely, focused on the scene below.

  Gradually the noises died away and Jamie watched as more and more faces looked up at them, weapons trained on their position. But mercifully, they didn’t shoot. It was a risky move, coming up here, and Jamie was ready to step in front of Matthew should he need to protect him.

  Up so high, the wind groaned and sighed, rattling the precarious wooden boards underfoot. Then, a shout from below:

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I wish to speak to your leader,’ Matthew said, his voice clear and otherworldly, floating across the wall and down to the enemy.

  ‘You’re speaking to him,’ came the same voice. Matthew scanned the chaotic scene below, trying to spot the speaker.

  ‘What are you people doing here?’ Matthew asked. ‘This is not your fight. If you do not leave within ten minutes, we will have no choice but to kill everyone inside.’

  ‘Not my problem,’ yelled the voice from below. ‘Do what you want!’

  ‘Gotcha,’ Jamie murmured, as he spied a dark haired gypsy, flanked by a dozen or so others. The man had an automatic rifle in one hand and a bloody machete in the other. Jamie tapped the closest marksmen on the shoulder and pointed out the man. The sniper nodded and aimed his rifle at the gypsy’s head. ‘I have him in my sights, Sir,’ the marksman said. ‘Shall I shoot?’

  ‘Do it,’ Matthew said.

  ‘Wait,’ Jamie replied. ‘I’m sorry, Sir, but maybe we shouldn’t make a martyr of him. They’ll want to avenge his blood and then we’ll have no chance of appeasing them.’

  ‘Appease them?’ Matthew said. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

  ‘If we shoot him, we’ll have no chance to negotiate.’

  ‘What are your orders, Sir?’ the sniper asked Matthew.

  ‘Hold your fire,’ Matthew replied.

  ‘Know this,’ the gypsy yelled. ‘If you kill those people inside, then as soon as we reach you, we’ll make sure you die slowly and painfully.’

  Cocky little sod, thought Jamie.

  ‘What I don’t like,’ the man continued yelling up at them, ‘is people who steal what doesn’t belong to them. Like other people’s children. There’s no bargaining here, sunshine. What I want is your head on a spike. You won’t be getting out of there alive.’

  ‘I have thousands more men back at Salisbury,’ Matthew replied. ‘If you harm any more of my people, my warriors will march down here and they will seek retribution.’

  ‘You still don’t get it, do you, sonny. You’re not leaving here alive. None of you are. Put down your weapons and we’ll promise to kill you quick,’ the gypsy yelled to a chorus of cheers. And then a shot skimmed by Jamie’s head. All four disciples and Matthew ducked behind the wall while the marksmen returned fire. But Jamie didn’t see if they hit anything.

  ‘Time to go back down,’ Jamie said. ‘We can’t risk your life up here, Sir.’

  Matthew’s face was stone. White with icy anger. ‘We cannot let them get away with this. We are God’s army, with thousands of trained warriors. This cannot be happening. Who are those people? And how did we come to be trapped in here?’

  ‘Sir,’ Jamie said, ‘we must rally all our brothers inside and send them out to fight. We still outnumber them easily.’

  ‘No,’ Matthew replied. ‘Our warriors must find the girl first.’

  ‘But, Sir, she’s just one girl. We need to . . .’

  ‘Silence!’ Matthew hissed.

  Jamie bowed his head and hoped Matthew’s decision wouldn’t cost them dearly.

  * * *

  Standing at the base of the perimeter, listening to FJ’s demand for us to stand down, only seemed to reinvigorate the gypsies. They got their second wind and threw themselves at the warriors like rabid dogs. Those pale sullen faces I’d seen back at The Walls had now been transformed into an angry fighting machine.

  The thought of FJ inside my home made me angry as hell. He had been standing on the very same platform that Rita and I had stood on this morning as we’d witnessed the approaching army and the destruction of Eddie’s truck. I couldn’t bear the thought of FJ’s men trampling across our roads and lawns, defiling our houses and mistreating our people. How dare he? I reloaded my Saiga and stuffed my pockets full of ammo, before taking a breath and leaving the cover of the van to draw closer to the main battle. I was way out of my depth, but I couldn’t hang back while the gypsies fought with every ounce of strength in their malnourished bodies. I needed to get inside the perimeter and find out what was happening.

  We fired our guns and hacked with our knives. It was brutal and bloody and terrifying. Despite the battle noise, which raged around me, all I could truly hear was the harsh rhythm of my own breaths coming fast and loud. Animalistic cries issued from my own mouth as I flew at the enemy, convinced in that moment that this would be my last day on earth. That I would die here in this hellish bloodbath, defending my home.


  Somehow, we were managing to force our way through the enemy, getting closer to the gates, but they were still hopelessly out of reach. My aim was to slip through one of the holes in the wall and try to get to my house and down into the stores. To find Luc and tell him what was happening. I couldn’t let myself think about another scenario where Luc wasn’t there.

  Evening was almost upon us. The light turning its back on the violence of the day. I hoped darkness would make my plan easier. Suddenly, a warm burn spread across my face. I put my hand to my cheek and saw crimson blood. A stray cut from a wild sword to my right. I ducked and slithered through icy slush and dead bodies on my stomach. Then I pushed myself onto my hands and knees and tried to crawl toward the fence. If I stayed low and moved slowly, I might just go unnoticed. I needed to get inside and find Pa.

  Crawling through the horror, I clamped my jaw shut and tried to stop shaking. My rucksack hampered my progress so I discarded it. But I made sure I kept hold of my semi-automatic. At least I wasn’t a target down here and, as I crawled along, I managed to take out several warriors by shooting up into their faces and chests. No one even noticed me, they were so caught up in the violence at head height.

  Finally, I lay on my belly and slithered through the gates, using my elbows to propel myself over the massacred bodies and dead dogs. While I was hidden in the murk of bodies, I tugged a robe off one of the dead warriors and slipped it on, cringing as I pulled the blood-stained hood over my head. To my left I spied a clear spot leading to a crumbled section of wall. It was dark enough to chance making a dash for it. So I scrambled to my feet and ran at a crouch toward the opening.

  I was through.

  I flattened myself against the brickwork, breathing hard. The scene before me was little better than outside. The whole place was a brutal bloody war zone. And something else was wrong. Nowhere did I see the uniforms of the perimeter guards. Nor did I recognise a single face. The only people I saw were FJ’s men and the gypsies. I had to get away from here.

  Following the line of the wall, I headed away from the fighting, toward the back of the guards’ building. Maybe some of our people were being held prisoner inside. Peering through a lighted window, I saw four or five robed men inside. Ducking down, I swore. They were already making themselves at home. I had to find my people and let them know I’d brought help. They needed to come back and join the fight. What if they’d used the secret passageway and were already headed away from here?

  I left the cover of the guards’ house and ran as hard as I could down the tree-lined pavements and away from the fighting, not looking back, just praying I wouldn’t hear pounding feet behind me or feel bullets in my back. But luckily everyone was caught up near the entrance. The cries and screams and sounds of gunfire receded as my feet took me further into the perimeter. I needed to cross the main road, but it was wide and exposed and I hesitated to leave the cover of the fir trees.

  Just as I was preparing to cross, a squad of warriors came jogging out of the road opposite. They were heading back toward the entrance. Back to the battle no doubt. I shrank back behind a tree trunk, my heart pounding. I may have worn their robes, but there was no way I would be mistaken for one of them close up. Finally, their figures receded and I dashed across the road, glancing wildly about as I ran. Not far now. I was almost home.

  I turned the familiar corner, but it all looked different now. Alien and scary. It was like looking at my road through a distorted mirror. The houses lay in darkness and I stumbled into my driveway, excited to have made it this far, but terrified at what I might find. The crunch of the gravel under my boots made me wince. The sound seemed ten times magnified in the silent street.

  I slipped off the dead man’s robe with a shudder and let it drop to the floor. My frozen fingers went to my jeans pocket to pull out my house key. Such a familiar action, but everything was changed now. My home no longer safe. The key turned with a click and I opened the door, stepping into the pitch black hallway.

  As soon I set foot inside, the door closed behind me and a hand came over my mouth. I tried to scream and reach for my gun, but someone else’s hands pinned mine behind my back. Why hadn’t I had my finger on the trigger of my gun? I was a fool. I tried to scream again, but the hand was firm against my lips.

  ‘Sshhh, Riley it’s me, Uncle Tom.’ The hands let me go.

  ‘Tom?’ I hissed, almost weak with relief. ‘Oh my God, Tom.’ I flung my arms around him, as someone flicked on a torch, illuminating the faces of Liam and Denzil. ‘I’m so pleased to see you guys,’ I breathed.

  ‘What happened to your face?’ Denzil asked.

  I remembered the sword cutting into my cheek. Had that only been a few minutes ago? It felt like weeks since I’d been in the thick of the battle. ‘It’s fine,’ I replied. ‘Where is everyone?’

  ‘Once the wall was breached we had to withdraw,’ Denzil said. ‘Too many of them. Thousands. We couldn’t have won with those odds, so we made the decision to get out. Everyone’s down in the stores.’

  ‘Everyone?’ I said ‘But there isn’t enough room . . .’

  ‘They’re crammed in,’ Denzil said. ‘Spread out along the secret corridor. Your Pa told Tom about the escape route.’

  ‘Where is Pa?’ I asked. ‘Downstairs with everyone?’

  Silence.

  I looked up at the men’s faces and my head began to swim, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

  ‘We don’t know where he is,’ Tom replied softly.

  ‘What!’ My voice rose to a screech and they all shushed me.

  ‘Your Pa, Rita, Luc and half-a-dozen others stayed on the wall to hold them off, so everyone could get away.’

  I shook my head, trying to focus on the present and not think about worst case scenarios. Pa and Luc would be fine, I told myself, swallowing bile at the back of my throat. They were probably hiding out somewhere, hatching a plan.

  ‘Where’ve you been, Riley?’ Uncle Tom said. ‘Everyone’s been so worried about . .’

  ‘We have to get everyone back out there,’ I interrupted. ‘All our guards. All our men and women need to come out of the basement and fight.’

  ‘Riley, it would be suicide,’ Liam said. ‘There are thousands of warriors . . .’

  ‘Not any more,’ I replied. ‘I brought help. I went to The Walls and got the gypsies.’

  ‘What!’ Uncle Tom looked at me like I was from another planet.

  I carried on explaining. ‘The gypsies have wiped out hundreds of FJ’s men. Caught them in a crossfire and just obliterated them. You should’ve seen it. If you all come now, we can finish this thing easily.’

  ‘But how did you . . .’

  ‘Not now,’ I said. ‘Come on, we need to get back out there. Are the weapons still down in the stores?’

  Tom nodded.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘We arm everybody and we take back our perimeter.’

  Our people filed out of the storerooms like a stream of avenging angels. Hope and fire in their eyes. Up the hidden staircase, into the hallway and out of the house into the cold night. They had thought they’d lost their home for good, but now they had a second chance to reclaim the perimeter. As I saw all the familiar faces I was overcome by a wave of love and wanted to wrap it around everyone to keep them safe. I realised it was Christmas Eve. A time for family and peace.

  I hadn’t seen Ma or Liss and Annabelle yet, but Denzil said they were fine down below. Looking after the children and keeping everyone’s spirits up. Hundreds of us gathered along the street, quiet anticipation threading its way through each of us. We would fight and we would drive these intruders from our home. Make sure they never returned.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Things weren’t going as planned. Who were these gypsies and what did they want? They had forced their way inside the walls of the perimeter and didn’t seem to be giving an inch. Jamie had watched the carnage from within the guards’ building at the entrance. He, Matthew and the other disciples h
ad locked themselves in. The building was secure for now, but they were pretty much trapped. The gypsies’ energy was astounding and Jamie wished their own warriors would put as much fervour into battle. But Grey’s people were controlled and competent. Skilled and focused. Tactics which usually worked well, but didn’t seem to have much effect against such a chaotic enemy.

  In a cramped room at the back, Matthew’s patience was running out and Jamie felt the boy’s anger like a palpable thing around them. He hadn’t mentioned James Grey yet and Jamie was inclined to believe the prisoner’s statement that something terrible had befallen their leader. But he couldn’t voice his fears to Matthew. Not given the cold fury which already emanated from every pore.

  One of the disciples in the room cleared his throat. ‘Sir,’ he said, approaching Matthew. ‘Do you think we should . . . withdraw?’

  ‘No. Do you?’

  The disciple didn’t answer.

  ‘I asked you a question. Answer me.’ Matthew got to his feet and faced the man.

  ‘I think . . .’ the man stammered, ‘that if we stay here, there’s a chance those people out there will kill all our brothers.’

  ‘And you, Jacob?’ Matthew said, turning to Jamie. ‘What do you think?’

  Jamie thought for a moment. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but the disciple was right. They couldn’t wait it out in this building, hoping that things would go their way. At the moment he guessed their chance of success was about fifty-fifty. Just then, a warrior burst into the room.

  ‘The perimeter guards have appeared from nowhere with hundreds of people. They’re all armed. I’m sorry. It looks like we’re outnumbered.’

  ‘Get out!’ Matthew shouted.

  The warrior backed out of the room, shocked.

  Jamie had never seen The Voice of the Father lose his cool before. He tried to think of a way to salvage the situation, but his mind kept coming up blank. It seemed hopeless. He needed to get Matthew focused once more.

  ‘Sir,’ Jamie said, daring to put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder in what he hoped was a gesture of comfort and solidarity. ‘What do you want to happen now?’