Light At The End | Book 1 | Surviving The Apocalypse

by Benson, Tom

  When Alan went inside, Steph turned to Bill. “Paul, next?”

  Five minutes later, Paul was sitting out in front of his coach. Paul was happy to be interviewed, trusting the judgement of both Bill, and Steph. They gave the same simple explanation as provided to the others so far. Paul’s interview was followed by Chloe of the Forestry Commission pair.

  The chat was similar to that which had gone before. As she was about to go inside a casual remark caused Bill and Steph to exchange an anxious glance.

  “I’m sorry, Chloe,” Bill said. “What did you mean when you said ‘I hope the wild man has a buddy’?”

  “Oh, it was an observation that Norman and I have made over the past couple of weeks. One of our tasks has been to go to specific areas of the forests. We’ve been examining those trees we’ve been cultivating away from the public eye.”

  Steph said, “Why would you cultivate trees away from the public eye?”

  “I know it might sound a bit crazy if you’re not in our line of work. There are certain species of tree that people will uproot from the wild, and our tree nurseries were being affected in a bad way. For about ten years, we’ve been building secret nurseries within large forests, and the idea was working—until today.”

  “Okay,” Bill said. “Could we get back to the ‘wild man’ you mentioned?”

  “It’s quite simple really—we’ve found evidence of somebody living rough in the forest, building basic shelters and moving on, probably after a couple of days.”

  “Are you sure it isn’t a group of people and—”

  Chloe shook her head before Bill finished. “The structure is always the same because whoever it is has mastered the particular type of shelter. It’s quick and easy to build among the trees, and there is always water nearby, and a cooking pit. Whoever it is, knows what they’re doing, or at least it appears that way.”

  “Can you remember where any of these shelters were, specifically in regions of the forest?”

  “No, but if you’re talking to everybody, ask Norman—he has a great memory for things like that.”

  “Thank you,” Steph said. “Oh, and it goes without saying—we’ll keep this wild man theory to ourselves.” She winked.

  “No problem—should I send Norman out now?”

  “Yes, please,” Steph said, and when Chloe had gone, the author turned to Bill. “The idea of somebody living in the forest isn’t good, but it will depend on the last time a shelter was seen.”

  Bill whispered, “Are you suggesting that this … wild man might have been inside the tunnel before we arrived?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Steph said and nodded slowly.

  They both turned as somebody approached.

  “Hi there,” Norman said and took a seat on the third box. “How can I help you guys?”

  The interview went smoothly as Ken, safety and buddy-system were all discussed, and then Bill threw in a line about the wild man.

  “I remember clearly where I last saw a shelter,” Norman said. “It was in a dense section we call or used to call Zone Seven.”

  Steph said, “Why does it stand out in your memory?”

  “Zone Seven is bordered by tracks that eventually lead up to a high viewing point. In fact, I think it’s one of the viewing points that this coach would have visited earlier today. It’s quite a climb, and from the top, you can see for miles, mountain peaks, lochs, and with good eyesight, out to the west you could see the Atlantic ….” His voice trailed off as he considered it was probably all gone now.

  “Norman,” Steph said. “You’ve been a great help, but we must ask that you don’t discuss any of this with anybody—we have a good reason.”

  “Okay, and if there’s anything else, I’ll be happy to help.”

  Bill said, “Could you ask for Noreen to come out next, please?”

  “I will.”

  Bill shook his head after Norman had gone. “Apart from those few whom we know we can trust, we’re back to square one.”

  “Not necessarily, Bill—we now have the possibility of a wild man, but rest assured, the culprit will make a mistake. We just have to make sure every person in the group feels confident to come forward if they have worries about anything within our control. From what Dawn said, it sounds like several passengers sat alone after boarding, so we’ll have people to talk to who haven’t been associated with anybody else.”

  Bill turned. “Why would that be a problem?”

  “We all went up to the viewing site earlier today in one big group, and a few people were keeping to themselves. You know—no conversation at all, and then we came back down when we realised the world we knew was about to end.”

  “Yes, but according to Paul, one of the guys … I think he said Calvin, had waited at points along the track and counted all of us back down and out to the coach.” He nodded. “I remember Calvin stopping.”

  “If our murderer was the ‘wild man’ and living in the trees in that Zone Seven place, it means that any person, man or woman, who wandered off the beaten path could be replaced. Numbers would remain the same.”

  “Ah—I see, which brings something else to mind.”

  “What?” Steph squinted in the dim light.

  “Norman and Chloe are assuming it was a wild man in the forests—what’s to stop it being a wild woman?”

  Steph closed her eyes briefly and nodded. “We’ll have to consider that too. Okay, we’ve got one of the nurses next, and they both got on the coach at the Bird of Prey stop.”

  “Right.”

  “I suppose we should continue as we’ve been doing and try to appear cheerful.”

  Bill nodded but his mind was wandering with the implications of what Norman had told them.

  “Hi.” A curvaceous young black woman walked across from the door of the coach. She’d been one of the two people who had checked passengers for injuries after the rapid entry into the tunnel.

  “Hello, Noreen, please take a seat,” Bill said. He introduced the idea of safety and how confusing it was that somebody could wander off, and so on. For a few minutes, he asked the nurse’s opinion on how things might be done differently to ensure personal safety, and he talked about the idea of the buddy-system.

  “I like that,” Noreen said. “Apart from not wandering off alone, it means that the women, in particular, will feel less inhibited about going outside the coach into the dark. I don’t mean that we can’t trust the men, but—”

  “It’s okay,” Steph said. “We know what you mean.”

  Bill said, “Was it a stroke of luck that you ended up on this coach, or were you one of those who booked earlier?”

  “I suppose you could call it a stroke of luck, which is also how I met Jay-Dee—the other nurse.”

  “I don’t understand,” Bill said. “Aren’t you and … Jay-Dee together?”

  “Oh, yes, we’re sitting together, and we’re getting along, but we only met at the Bird of Prey site earlier. We met not long before we joined a couple of other people who were catching the coach ready to go on to the next mountainside stop.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bill bluffed. “How presumptuous of me—when I saw that you and Jay-Dee were both nurses and sitting together I thought you were, you know—”

  “An ‘item’, as they used to say a million years ago—no, we’re newly acquainted.”

  “Do you, or should I say, did you have a speciality in your nursing career?” Steph said.

  “I’ve mainly worked in general wards, but I gained qualifications as a midwife, so I could get my job in the Glasgow Central Hospital. Until this episode, I was there for four years.”

  “I apologise,” Steph said. “You did say so earlier.”

  “Thank you, Noreen,” Bill said. He explained about not discussing the interview.

  Jay-Dee, who was of Asian descent, was next. He was tall and slim, and a friendly young man, happy to take part in the exercise. From what he said about his work experience, he had spent most of his time
in the Accident and Emergency Department. “I see, or I saw some pretty bad things daily, but strangely it doesn’t phase me because my job is … sorry, was, to help people. It was a vocation with me, you see, both my parents were doctors.”

  Steph said, “I think we’re all having the same problem, Jay-Dee—we’re not yet accustomed to talking about our working lives in the past tense.”

  “It’s crazy, and you just know there are some folk in that coach who have not quite realised what our predicament is—we’re gonna have some delayed mental trauma as the time passes.”

  “Well, mate,” Bill said. “I hope we can count on you to keep your head and help us through it.”

  “I’ll give my best—it might not be a hospital environment, but we’ll still have sick people.”

  Jay-Dee’s interview ended, and he got back onto the coach.

  Steph said, “That young man is going to be invaluable in the days to come.”

  “I agree, and while he’s not acting casually, he seems to appreciate our situation.”

  “Hello,” a forty-something woman said. “I’m Linda, I’ve been sent out by the guy you’ve just interviewed.”

  “Hi, Linda,” Bill said and smiled. “Please, take a seat.”

  The sequence was followed until every person was interviewed, but it was the final one which caused Bill and Steph to take a deep breath.

  Anne was a pretty dark-haired woman in her early thirties. She remained calm for a while as the questions were asked, but her responses became abrupt, and there was less of an attempt at friendliness. Her manner was so different from almost every other person that Bill became suspicious.

  To brighten the mood, he gave a little laugh. “You might be able to help me, Anne. When I was along the tunnel earlier with Paul, we were trying to impress each other with trivia.”

  “Right—how could I help you?” She fixed him with a cold stare.

  “Paul asked me if I were desperate, would I eat Atropa Belladonna—would you?”

  Anne squinted and paused.

  “Well, Anne—would you eat it?” Bill raised an eyebrow, and smiled.

  “I … I … what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Do you know what Atropa Belladonna is, Anne?”

  “Of course I do, but that’s irrelevant.”

  Steph sensed irritation in the other woman. “What is Atropa Belladonna, Anne?”

  She looked from one to the other. “Have you any more sensible questions, because if not, I’m going back inside.” She stood.

  “Atropa Belladonna is a poisonous plant,” Bill said, “You’re not a florist, are you, Anne?”

  “Are you really an ex-Serviceman?”

  “I am, but right now, I’m trying to solve a mystery—is Anne your real name?”

  “I don’t think I like your tone.”

  Steph said, “Wasn’t it you who suggested somebody hadn’t come back onboard the coach?”

  “Yes—we were chatting earlier, and I remembered the man.” Anne sat down again.

  “You were only sitting beside him briefly, though,” Steph persevered. “I know because I was sitting beside him.”

  Bill leant forward. “Look, Anne, right now, we need two things from everybody in the group—honesty from them, and trust in us.”

  Anne glanced up at the windscreen of the coach and then back towards the doorway, ensuring there were no prying eyes or ears. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Trust works both ways. I don’t know about the others you’ve spoken to, but this sounds more like an investigation than simple safety interviews.”

  “Look, we—” Bill stopped when Steph reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

  Steph met Anne’s gaze. “At present it’s not common knowledge, but we don’t think Ken was a salesman. We have more than one mystery to solve and we don’t need more people with aliases.”

  “Sometimes people have good reason for concealing facts about themselves.”

  Bill leaned forward. “Would that include you—Anne?”

  “This has nothing to do with general safety. What are you two really up to with these interviews?”

  Bill turned to Steph who nodded. Bill met Anne’s steady gaze. “Would you agree to a compromise, a deal if you like … an honest exchange of information?”

  “I’m listening.” The petite brunette looked from one interviewer to the other.

  Bill said, “Anne, you’re the first person to take exception to what we’re doing. If you tell us your true identity we’ll give you an insight into why we’re holding interviews.”

  “Why don’t you tell me your secret first?”

  Steph said, “Anne, please trust us on this—it’s important to all of us.”

  There was a slight hesitation. “I’m Detective Constable Anne Brown—Detective Sergeant Ken Wallace was my boss.” She let that information sink in. “Since we’ve been on the coach, somebody has stolen my identity card, but there is no photograph. Our cards have a microchip.”

  Steph said, “Right, so unless it’s held to a visual scanner, nobody would know if the holder owned the card?”

  “Correct—which means you guys have to repay that trust you were talking about and maintain my cover.” She looked from one to the other. “Now, what do you two know?”

  Steph whispered, “We have reason to believe that Ken’s death was not an accident.”

  Anne briefly closed her eyes tight and her lips trembled.

  Bill and Steph exchanged a look of bewilderment at the reaction.

  Anne looked from one to the other and whispered, “Who else knows what you suspect?”

  At a nod from Steph, Bill said, “As far as we can tell, only three others and the killer.”

  “In that case, being paired off with a buddy may save lives,” Anne said. “We’re all in more danger than we thought.”

  6 - Into the Darkness

  Bill stood at the front of the coach, between Paul and Dawn, who were occupying their regular seats. He sipped from his bottled water before addressing everybody.

  “First, ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you all for helping with our little interview session.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s now half past eleven in the evening. We’ve had a pretty horrendous day, but the important thing is what we do next.”

  Nobody made a sound as the entire group listened intently with a shared hope in their spokesperson.

  “If we assess where we are, I think it might help those who are still trying to deal with the situation—and we now know there are several of you in that category.” He paused. “We can safely assume that a substantial part of the world as we knew it, no longer exists.”

  A few people sniffed, and several others sobbed, so Bill waited patiently, allowing them time to compose themselves.

  “There were some mixed fortunes in our first few hours. We were saved by Paul in what looked like a suicidal drive, but was actually an act of heroism.”

  A cheer went up, and some of the group applauded and shouted their gratitude.

  Bill briefly turned and smiled at Paul before facing along the aisle once again. “We’ve adopted Norman and Chloe who came in here to check on us. They might otherwise have perished in the forest or ended up in here by themselves. Unfortunately, on the downside, we’ve already had one fatal accident, but we’ve learned from that. We asked that you all choose a ‘buddy’ so until we end up in a situation where we can see what the hell we’re doing, there is no such thing as total privacy.”

  A murmur went around the coach.

  “Unless you’re desperate and using that small cubicle at the back, if you leave this vehicle, you do so accompanied, and that includes me—no exceptions. Are there any questions so far?”

  A woman in her forties said, “What do we do when we can no longer use that little cubicle?”

  “I’m hoping to address that situation before it happens, but if you feel the urge to go out into the blackness to relieve yourself, it is to be done accompanie
d. Go as far away from the coach as possible—towards the blocked entrance.”

  A man in his fifties spoke up. “How do you suggest we conduct something as simple as our most private functions in total darkness?”

  “Take tissue from the rolls available. When you set off, ensure your feet are within the rails and walk for a few minutes. Whatever you’re leaving behind, make sure it’s left on the outside of the rails to the left. Come back with your feet on the inside of the rails.”

  A few more murmurs and some dissent was quashed by four or five people nodding and saying positive things about the idea.

  A man spoke up. “I don’t want to sound like a scaremonger, but will there be rats in here?”

  Norman caught Bill’s attention. “I’ll take this one if it’s okay, Bill.” The forestry man turned. “Yes, there will be rats in here, but I wouldn’t be too worried about them. There isn’t much for them to live on. Any that enter the tunnel will probably venture in from the forest on the mountainside.”

  An anxious woman said, “How could they possibly get in here?”

  “First, a natural passageway for rats is a waterway or drainage system, and all tunnels have a drainage system. Secondly, although the atmosphere in the tunnel isn’t exactly fresh, there will be narrow ventilation shafts at regular intervals which is why we have some oxygen in the air.”

  Another man. “Doesn’t that mean that … the radiation could come inside?”

  Norman turned to Bill who raised a hand for quiet before speaking.

  “I agree with what Norman said about rodents only visiting but not living in here. I spent many years living in harsh conditions and rats were never a concern. They are more afraid of us than we are of them. Unless we’re foolish enough to leave food around, we won’t attract them. On the subject of radiation getting in here via ventilation shafts, I’m confident that anything out there will be filtered through the trees and undergrowth.”

  “Surely it could come down the shafts,” an irate woman said.