Light At The End | Book 1 | Surviving The Apocalypse

by Benson, Tom

  “Go on, mate,” Calvin shouted. “Let’s hear it.” The young black guy had a distinctive London accent and a deep voice which suited his solid physique.

  “Right,” Paul said. “First of all, we’ve got two more in our group. He nodded down towards the two Forestry Commission people. I’d like you all to try and hold back from screaming and panicking—it will do no good for any of us, and only upset those people who are trying to come to terms with what’s happening.”

  There were a few murmurs and then a commanding male voice from earlier broke the relative silence. “What makes you such a bloody expert on when we should or shouldn’t panic—you’re a bloody coach driver?”

  “Could you tell me your name and what you do for a living?” Paul said without the use of the PA system.

  “My name is Alan Nicholson, and I’m a Regional Manager for Harwood’s Foods. Why is that important?”

  “Well, Mr Nicholson of Harwood’s Foods, I’m hazarding a guess that like the rest of us, you no longer have a job, and your company doesn’t exist.”

  Muted comments sounded along the coach.

  Nicholson, a tall, slim man stood. “Make your point?”

  Paul had heard enough. He stood to face the other man along the aisle. “Would you like to come up to the front and address the assembled audience, Mr Nicholson? You can enlighten us with your vast knowledge of nuclear war, the weapons used and their effects?”

  “I don’t know … anything … about those … things.”

  “Well, bloody sit down and listen.” Paul paused and looked along one side of the coach and then the other. “I have basic knowledge, but I’ll step down if we have anybody here who knows about nuclear explosions?”

  A tall, well-built man of about forty stood up at the back of the coach. “Bill Kane, mate—I’m an ex-Serviceman—an engineer. I know a bit about nuclear warfare.”

  “Would you come up here, please, Bill and try to explain our situation?”

  The ex-soldier made his way up to the front amid whispers. He spoke quietly to Paul when he arrived near him. “You’ve done a great job so far, mate—thanks.”

  Paul nodded and sat down, finally feeling appreciated, and relieved to have another ally.

  “Okay, everybody,” Bill said. “We can’t dress-up our predicament or what’s going on out there. I’m confident that thanks to this brave guy up at the front, we’re now in a safe environment. We can discuss the details, and our plans later, but for now, I believe what we’ve just witnessed is what Paul suggested—the effects of a nuclear explosion. It was probably one of several.” He let the murmuring start again, and then held his hands up for quiet.

  “I can see again … I’m not blind … I can see again.” A middle-aged woman cried with relief.

  “What’s your name?” Bill said.

  “Jean … Jean Sands.”

  “What happened was caused by the intensity of the light caused during the nearest explosion—it can’t be avoided. Paul was right to shout for us to close our eyes, but even with them closed we’d have experienced the light at some intensity.” Bill paused. “There is also the nuclear blast, which causes a rush of air outward from the point of detonation.” He let the second aspect sink in. “The outward air pressure is massive, but then a few seconds later, the vacuum is filled as all the air returns.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Holy shit.”

  Bill held his hands up and got silence again. “When the dust finally settles the bad news isn’t over. The mushroom cloud we’ve all seen in pictures and in the movies is full of earth and particles which are made radioactive during the explosion. The particles can be carried for hundreds of miles high above the clouds and any regular winds. Those radiation particles will eventually come back to earth.”

  There was silence, as every person on the coach listened to somebody who sounded like he knew his subject.

  “In the military, we were trained in how to recognise the effects and how best to survive, but what I’ve just explained is only the immediate effects. Back in my days in uniform, we had protective outfits, respiration kit and all sorts of training. In here, thanks to Paul, we’ve survived those immediate effects, but now, although we’re in a safe place, most of the area outside of here will be liable to radiation of different types. Some people might be out there and survive the light, blast, heat and radiation only to be killed by the residual stuff.”

  “How long does the radiation last, Bill?” A young woman in the middle of the coach.

  “Different types of radiation last for differing lengths of time—minutes up to years—to hundreds of years.”

  “Basically,” Nicholson said. “What you’re saying is that we’ve been saved by being buried alive in here. Now we’re going to die from thirst and starvation?”

  “No, Mr Nicholson—we’re safe in here, and it’s how we respond from now on that will decide if we survive.”

  A man near the front spoke quietly. “Are we going to die in here, Bill?”

  Bill glanced at the frightened eyes and quivering lips before once again looking up to address the whole coach-load. “A lot of you are in a state of shock, and you’re frightened—which is natural.” He forced a brief smile. “Paul here, made a superhuman effort to get us this far, and I, for one, am grateful. I’m not going to give up now and waste our chances.”

  “Brave talk is okay, Bill, but how do you suggest we survive?”

  “Mr Nicholson, one of the first things we all have to do, is start thinking positively. It doesn’t matter what any of us did on the outside—we’re now all in a shit situation together.”

  A woman from the back murmured. “It all sounds so hopeless.”

  “Okay, let’s cut that out—we’re survivors, not the condemned, so I’d like to sense a bit of positivity.” Anger and frustration were rapidly building in the ex-Serviceman. “Hands up all those who’ve been under effective enemy fire, or seen a good friend blown to pieces?”

  Apart from a few gasps, the passengers were silent and Bill was the only one to raise a hand.

  “I apologise,” Bill said. “Those I mentioned are circumstances I regard as stressful and testing. We’re alive so our present circumstances are an inconvenience. I’m not saying I’ve got all the answers, but we’re here now. We must assess our situation and then form a plan of action.”

  A woman halfway along the coach raised a hand. “Bill.”

  “Yes.”

  “I know you might not want to assume command, but I think you’re our best bet to save us.”

  Voices piped up from around the coach.

  “Yes, and I’m with that lady.”

  “I agree.”

  “Well said—me too.”

  “Count me in.”

  “And me too.” The unmistakable deep and well-educated voice of Nicholson.

  A general hubbub circulated and stopped short of becoming a chant.

  Bill looked over his shoulders to see Paul and Dawn both nodding and smiling. He met the gaze of the only outspoken person on the coach. “Are you quite sure, Mr Nicholson?”

  “Absolutely … Bill … and it’s Alan.”

  The frustration bubbling under the surface dissipated, and Bill nodded his thanks to the tall man. “Okay, guys, I think the way forward would be for us to have a small group as a sort of strategy, or if you like, planning committee. The smaller the number of people involved, the better or we’ll end up discussing everything in one big democratic mass of opinions.”

  Again, his words created a silence.

  “Ideally, we need at least one person with some knowledge of this tunnel. Somebody acquainted with the local area would also be beneficial.”

  Dawn said, “Both Paul and I have seen diagrams and been told the history of this place, but we’ve never been allowed to venture inside.” She half-turned to see a nod from Paul. “We’d like to help.”

  Bill stepped back two paces so that he h
ad his back to the inside of the vast windscreen and he was standing between Paul and Dawn. “Okay, that’s two so far—anybody else?”

  The man and woman in overalls and hi-vis vests who were sitting on the floor both raised their hands. “My name is Norman. Both Chloe and I have some local knowledge—we’ve attended forestry issues all around this mountain and the others nearby. The tunnel is quite long and goes under two mountains before it sees daylight again briefly, and then enters another mountain. The old railway line at one time reached the hydro-electric power station a few miles away.”

  “Could either of you guys help?”

  “I’ll do it,” Chloe said.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Bill said. “I’m happy to stay on board with these guys and get us underway, but we could do with a strategist to help keep our ideas on the straight and narrow.” He turned and looked at the businessman. “What did you say your position was out there, Alan?”

  “Regional Manager, and I’d feel privileged to help.”

  “You’re in, mate.”

  A low murmur of voices sounded throughout once again.

  Bill held up a hand for quiet. “I don’t suppose anybody has anything as old-fashioned as a notebook?”

  “I carry a notebook and a pen.” A forty-something woman called out. “My name is Steph.”

  “What are you, Steph—a journalist?”

  “An author, but I’d be happy to be the group’s scribe.” Steph was five-nine, with striking features and a fuller figure.

  “Thank you—okay people, if you have any objections or anything to add to what we’ve got now, please speak up.” Bill looked along both sides of the coach.

  A few whispers and shaking of heads was the response.

  Bill said, “We’ve got a few empty seats along the coach, so if you guys in the front would be kind enough to move back we can get our fledgeling committee seated together at the front.”

  Two minutes later, Bill rested in a half-sitting position against the centre of the broad dashboard. He had Dawn in her swivel seat to his right and Paul to his left, while Alan, Chloe and Steph sat in the front row.

  “Before we go any further,” Bill said, “do we have any medical professionals?”

  “My name is Jay-Dee,” a slim young Asian man said. “I’m a male nurse.”

  “Noreen—a midwife,” a pretty, curvaceous black woman called out.

  “Thank you, guys. I’d appreciate it if you could both go around and check everybody over.”

  “You’ve got it,” Jay-Dee said and started along one side of the aisle.

  “No problem.” Noreen got on with checking the people on the other side.

  Bill left the medics to do their thing. He turned to his small band of recruits. “Welcome, thank you, and remember, we’re not an escape committee.” He nodded to Paul and smiled. “We’ve already dealt with that part. Now we have to work together to survive.”

  3 - Opportunity Knocks

  Bill kept his voice low, but loud enough to be heard by the people nearest to him. “Unless anybody thinks otherwise I believe we have certain things we need to consider straight away. A couple of us need to get out and explore this tunnel. There are several basic needs. Water and food are a priority, although we also have to consider hygiene with so many people in one small space.”

  Dawn said, “We’ve got a good supply of bottled drinking water and snack bars in one of the storage lockers underneath.”

  Paul said, “Although we have a toilet facility onboard at the back, it’s not intended for perpetual use. We need to find a way of dealing with that aspect.”

  The others nodded.

  Paul said, “Perhaps we’ll find a suitable hygiene facility when we explore.”

  “Possibly, mate,” Bill said. “It’s something we must keep in mind.” He paused. “I don’t know how many it will affect, but this tunnel must be a no-smoking and no-vaping zone.”

  Dawn said, “I think we have maybe half a dozen people who like to smoke or vape.”

  “We’ll need their matches or lighters later, but we don’t need to find out by accident that there are pockets of gas in here. It might come across better if you mention the gas first, and then the no-smoking rule. As far as vaping is concerned, we don’t want our uncertain level of oxygen polluted.”

  “I’ll deal with delivering that information,” Alan said. “I suppose most of them dislike me already anyway because I was acting a bit stroppy earlier.”

  “Good delivery and showing we care about each other—that’s all you need, Alan.” Bill winked and got a smile. He turned to Paul. “Your knowledge of your vehicle will be invaluable.”

  “I’ll be happy to get involved in any projects, including when we need the coach.”

  “Good. Have you got a decent flashlight in your maintenance box?”

  “I’ll go fetch it now—would you like me to go with you on the trek through the tunnel?”

  “I think it would be best, mate. It sounds like Chloe and Norman know the outside area and forest, but you and Dawn might have a better knowledge of the tunnel’s history and configuration than anybody else.” He turned to Dawn. “For now, it would make sense to continue in your primary role, if you don’t mind.”

  “Got it, and I agree.” Dawn nodded. “I don’t drive the coach, but I’m well-acquainted with every part of it.”

  Paul went outside and was back in a few minutes with a large, rubber-encased flashlight. “This is usually plugged into the coach’s power pack, so it lasts for hours.”

  Steph said, “Before you guys leave, is there anything we can tell our companions—something of interest that will keep everybody’s hopes up?”

  “I wouldn’t want to reel off statistics,” Paul said. “The tunnel is about five miles long and I know it has several emergency exits and maintenance portals.”

  “That’s a long tunnel,” Steph said. “Do we have any idea how far in we are from the entrance?”

  Chloe said, “Norman and I ran like hell to catch up after the coach passed us—I’d guess at maybe three or four hundred metres.”

  “I’d go along with that,” Paul said.

  “Okay, that will give them a couple of things to discuss,” Bill said. “Before we can do much more planning I think we need to find out what we’ve got in here by way of facilities. We’ll leave you guys to check with the medics that we have no passengers with physical injuries. You can also explain to everybody where we’ve gone and what we’re doing.”

  Dawn consulted the levels of a small coloured scale on the dashboard. “The onboard toilet will be good for at least twenty-four to thirty-six hours.”

  “Thanks.” Bill nodded. “It might be useful to perform a roll call of your passengers. Hold their attention for a while by double-checking details.”

  Dawn nodded. “It’s company policy for insurance purposes to list name, age and occupation, so we’ll take our time and double-check all of it.”

  Alan said, “If Dawn deals with the passenger details I can tell everybody about the hygiene, the non-smoking and whatever.”

  Dawn added, “We’ll keep them talking to each other—it will stop them going stir-crazy in the dim lighting.” She turned and glanced out of the windscreen into the blackness. “Do you two guys want the headlights on?”

  “No, thanks,” Bill said. “We’re better off to start the way we mean to go on—the flashlight. However far we go, when we’re on the way back, it will be a welcome sight when we see these interior lights, even if they’re dim.”

  Bill and Paul synchronised their watches with the digital coach clock and Alan’s watch.

  “We’ll aim to be back in three hours,” Bill said.

  Dawn handed Paul a small bottle of water. “You two will need this more than me.”

  The two men set off slowly, Paul on the left and Bill on the right. They walked on the gravel and undergrowth away from the ends of the railway sleepers. Bill was carrying the flashlight and aimed the
beam well ahead and centrally. The technique he used was sufficient to illuminate a reasonable length of the old rails and create more confidence for the pair of them as they walked. Anything beyond the beam was pitch black apart from the occasional shine of crystallised substances contained within the surface of the tunnel roof and walls. Occasionally, a pair of beady eyes reflected the light from the low beam of the flashlight. A few times, a small winged creature dropped from the ceiling to investigate the intruders in their usually quiet nocturnal world.

  For a while, the pair advanced with no other sound than their breathing and the crunching of gravel underfoot.

  “Bill,” Paul whispered. “Do you really think we have a chance of surviving down here?”

  “I’ve been in worse conditions, mate, and living in a disused railway tunnel is not going to be the end of the line for me—if you’ll pardon the pun.”

  “I think it’s amazing that you can be so positive and humorous.”

  “We’ve got two choices, Paul. We can either roll over and die, or we can tackle the adversity head-on and fight.” He laughed briefly. “Having seen how you drive a coach when under pressure, I’ve got you down as a fighter.”

  The pair fell silent once again, but Paul was buoyed by the confidence expressed in him. He already trusted this ex-soldier, and if this guy half-believed they could survive, then that was good enough. Their conversation was brief and sporadic for half an hour.

  “An orange reflective strip,” Paul said. “On my side, but still a distance away.”

  “I see it—maybe it’s one of those exit or maintenance portals.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?”

  The reflective strip remained a focal point as they advanced along the railway, occasionally stumbling over a rock or tuft of undergrowth.

  On arrival, the men found that the reflective strip was fixed to the edge of a door frame. Bill shone the beam partly onto the door and read the warning sign. “Emergency exit—Authorised Personnel Only. Possible hazard on exit from the external door.”