The End of the World Survivors Club
Page 13
‘How—’ I began.
‘Shh.’ He nodded at the guard on the walkway above, still transfixed by the flames. There were shouts in the distance now, and the direction of the shots had reversed. Tony’s men were under fire. ‘Keep your voice down. No time to explain. You have to get the guard’s attention.’
‘What? Why?’
‘We can only get onto the walkway from the side he’s standing on. He’ll see us and fire. Get him over on this side.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know, use your imagination.’
I stood and put my face to the window.
‘Hey,’ I said. He ignored me.
‘Hey you,’ I said, louder. Still nothing.
I took a breath.
‘It’s fire, mate, FIRE. Next big thing, you dickless wanker.’
He was already at the door. I heard ripples beneath us.
‘I’ll show you dickless,’ he said, rattling his keys in the lock. ‘I’ll show you fucking dickless …’
The lock sprang off and the door burst open, and there he stood like a stooped, misshapen monolith. But he barely had time to sneer before a shadow rose behind him. His head snapped back and his hands leaped for his throat, around which a rope was suddenly looped.
‘There, there, sweetheart,’ said the figure, tightening the rope. ‘Nighty night.’
The guard dropped to the floor in a heap of cloth and muscle, and Bryce stood dripping above him. Three figures emerged from the water at the walkway’s edge. Richard, Josh and Carmela. Bryce picked up the dead guard’s gun and held out his hand.
‘All right there, darlin’? Are you ready to get out of here?’
Chapter 15
We followed the maze of walkways south, keeping our heads low. Eurotowers was now an inferno, flames and smoke spewing from each tiny window as tight gunfire rattled on the ground beneath. Most of the guards had run to join the skirmish, but some still patrolled the walkways and we had to duck at every turn.
‘What’s happening?’ I said.
‘Maggie launched an attack,’ replied Richard.
‘But I thought—’
‘After you went in, we all sat in Maggie’s war room listening for a signal. We heard nothing for ages.’
‘Sorry to hold you all up,’ I muttered. ‘Had a few things on my mind.’
‘Wasn’t criticising, just explaining. Anyway, it made Maggie nervous.’
‘Aye,’ said Bryce, ‘so she started up her pacing, you know how she does.’
‘I’ve only just met her, so not really.’
‘Christ, she’s always at it.’
‘Mierda,’ said Carmela, shaking her head.
‘And when she gets nervous,’ said Josh, ‘so does her monkey.’
‘I fucking hate that monkey,’ growled Bryce.
‘I believe the feeling’s mutual,’ said Richard. ‘Wait – everybody down.’
We ducked behind a railing. On a walkway parallel to us was a guard about to turn.
‘Can you get him from here?’ whispered Richard.
Bryce, frowning, turned. ‘Are you talking to me?’
‘Of course. You’re the one with the gun.’
Bryce looked at the guard, then back at Richard. ‘That’s a terrible idea, Richard. It would only attract the attention of the other guards.’ He tapped his head. ‘You’ve got to think these things through, bud.’
Carmela gave a creamy smile and kissed him on the cheek.
‘Love you, darlin’,’ said Bryce, with a wink.
Richard stared dumbly at them for a few moments before shaking his head. ‘He’s gone now anyway, let’s go.’
We shuffled across to the next walkway.
‘It’s an ape,’ I said.
Everyone turned. ‘What?’
‘It’s an ape, not a monkey.’
‘Right,’ said Richard. ‘Anyway, Maggie had given up, and Bryce and I were ready to come and get you.’
‘It wouldn’t have worked.’
‘Maybe not, but we would have tried.’
‘Would you?’ I glanced at Richard, embarrassed at the rise in my voice. ‘Go on.’
‘But then we heard a crackle. It was you talking with Staines. We didn’t get much at first, just a lot of nonsense about money and trust —’
‘Fucking bullshit merchant if you ask me,’ said Bryce.
‘And a few drunken conversations in the bar. Then, about half an hour after you’d gone we heard another voice. It was Ernest, right up close, talking directly into the transmitter. He was babbling, telling us everything. The layout, numbers, weak points, strong points, where you were being held, that Eurotowers had a skeleton shift that night, that their ammunition was kept in two stores and that the closest one was almost gone.’
‘Aye,’ said Bryce, nodding up to the cruise ship. ‘Second one’s up there on that ship with the walking dead. Poor old bastards.’
I looked over the walkway maze to the cruise ship, it’s flanks flashing in the flames and gunfire from Eurotowers. ‘Ernest told me he was using them as a human shield.’
We turned left.
‘That’s right—’ Richard began, but stopped short as we almost bumped into a guard. He halted, staring madly between us.
‘Hey—’
Before he could lift his gun, Bryce stepped forward and drove his forehead into the man’s nose. With a sickening crack and a squirt of blood, he fell backwards and lay still on the planks.
‘That was close,’ said Bryce.
Carmela took the abandoned gun and slung it over her shoulder.
‘Mi alma,’ she said, kissing Bryce’s bloody forehead.
We walked on. Richard continued.
‘The main thing that Ernest told us was that Staines doesn’t get his supplies from the cruise ship as Maggie had thought. They ran out weeks ago. He’s been bringing them in from up the coast ever since.’
‘So he was never going to run out.’
‘Exactly. Maggie didn’t say anything for a few minutes after that. She just sat down, head in her hands, until finally she stood up and ordered the attack.’
‘That fucking monkey went ballistic,’ said Bryce.
‘Ape,’ corrected Josh.
‘Ape, monkey, whatever, it’s a bastard, oh fuck—’
We froze. A guard had turned onto our walkway. I put out my palms, but she had already raised her gun, the barrel now a dark spot in the centre of my vision.
My breath left me. I felt surprisingly calm. Somewhere inside me a cold assessment of my impending oblivion was being calculated, like a blackjack player totting up her chips at an empty table. All things considered, it reasoned, things could have been worse. At least I wouldn’t die like Ernest.
The guard pulled the trigger.
It clicked.
For a second nobody moved. The guard checked her gun and tried again. Same result.
‘It’s jammed,’ said Josh.
Carmela looked at Bryce and, with an almighty screech, ran down the walkway with her arms outstretched and her sodden dress flapping behind her like the wings of a rabid hell-swan. The guard cowered in horror as Carmela descended on her, hurling her forehead into her face.
The guard dropped to the floor. Carmela hovered, swaying, and joined her a second later.
‘Pigeon!’ yelled Bryce, running for her. We followed and Bryce helped her to her feet.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Bien, bien,’ she said, finding her balance. ‘Estoy bien.’
Bryce kissed her.
‘Use the top of your head next time, darlin’,’ he said, tapping his scalp. ‘Top, understand? Much better.’
‘Si,’ she said, smiling, ‘como un toro, si? Entiendo, mi alma, entiendo.’
We looked down at the guard’s unconscious body. The sounds of the battle intensified, shaking the wood upon which we stood.
Richard breathed a sigh.
‘Anyway, long story short, we came to rescue you.’
‘How did y
ou find me?’ I said.
‘The sunken tunnels,’ said Josh. ‘They lead straight out into the water.’
‘The ones Maggie said were unsafe?’
Josh shrugged. ‘They weren’t that bad.’
I caught him glance at his father, and Richard smiled. I looked around, trying to orientate myself. The walkways were clear of guards and the harbour was a short dash away, closer to the battle but lined with the yachts and speedboats I had seen on my way in.
‘I need to get to a boat,’ I said.
‘That’s why we’re here,’ said Richard.
‘You’re coming with me?’
‘Of course. Finish the journey, right, Josh?’
Josh nodded. I turned to Bryce. He shifted uncomfortably.
‘Much as I prefer dry land,’ he said, looking up at the Rock. ‘Gibraltar’s not really my cup of tea.’
Carmela machine-gunned something in Spanish and stood tall, looping her arm proudly in his.
There was another explosion at the harbour and the sky lit up. Cries and flailing limbs filled the air, and we ducked as burning debris rained down upon the walkways. One of the boats had caught fire and another was on its side. Half of the harbour walkway had been torn away and bodies floated face down in the exposed water.
‘Good God,’ said Richard, ‘Maggie’s throwing everything she’s got into it.’
‘Quickly,’ I said, ‘while we have the chance.’
We zigzagged across the walkways, aiming for the eastern end of the harbour where there were fewer guards.
‘What do we take?’ I said.
‘Something small and fast,’ said Richard. He pointed at a bullet-shaped white yacht. ‘Like that—’
Before he could finish there was another explosion, and the boat he had been pointing out was torn in two. We fell to the ground and covered our heads. Now the harbour was in three sections.
‘Shit,’ I said, as I pushed myself back up with my broom. ‘There’ll be nothing left at this rate.’
Just then we saw figures running through the smoke that shrouded a walkway to our right. Bryce and Carmela turned their guns.
‘Don’t shoot,’ said Josh. ‘It’s Maggie.’
Maggie and Dani emerged from the smoke, hands raised. Their faces were black and smeared with sweat, and the face of Maggie’s ape, Colin, was just visible from his hiding place behind her neck.
‘Are you all OK?’ said Maggie, looking us over. ‘Beth?’
‘We’re fine,’ I said. ‘Just trying to get to the harbour.’
‘Hi Dani,’ said Josh. Dani dismissed him with a gritted jaw.
‘What’s happening?’ said Bryce.
Maggie smiled, eyes shining. ‘We’ve taken the ship. Eurotowers is falling. Staines’ men are all over the place.’
Colin chattered and screeched. Dani raised her chin. ‘Bastard’s running scared. I told you, all we needed was a concerted attack, Mother.’
Maggie rolled her eyes. ‘You did, but let’s leave the I-told-you-sos for later, shall we? The fight’s not over.’
Dani maintained her fierce grin.
‘We fired mortars on the harbour to draw Staines’ attention away from the ship. He loves his boats, so he’ll be going there now. Follow me, we can approach from the other side.’
We reached the harbour and crept along the water’s edge. All the attention was on the opposite end where the flames licked from the burning boats and figures lay struggling. I heard the familiar voice of Tony Staines barking orders in its upper registers.
‘What about one of these?’ said Bryce, referring to one of the three expensive-looking unguarded boats to our right. ‘They look all right.’
‘Gin palaces,’ said Richard.
‘Sounds good to me. Let’s take that big fucker there.’
‘They don’t have sails,’ I said.
‘So?’
‘So they run on diesel, and we don’t know how much they have, or whether we’ll be able to find some more. We need to be able to rely on wind power.’
‘Right,’ said Bryce. ‘Makes total sense. Oh, by the way, small question: does anyone actually know how to sail?’
‘I did some when I was younger,’ said Richard.
Bryce sighed. ‘Of course you did. Don’t know why I asked. How about that one, then?’
‘Too big,’ said Richard. ‘Difficult to manoeuvre.’
‘That one,’ I said.
Near the centre of the harbour was a black-hulled yacht with a two tall masts. It was squat and sturdy-looking with sleek lines and a proud-tipped bow.
‘Yes,’ said Richard. ‘That’ll do nicely. What is it, forty foot? Big sails, stable hull, perfect.’
‘No guards either,’ said Bryce. ‘It’s ours.’
‘That’s Staines’ boat,’ said Maggie with a warning tone. ‘The Black Buccaneer. If he sees you, he won’t let it go so easily.’
‘Then we’d better be quick,’ I said. Just as I moved off, there was a sound behind us.
‘Oi,’ said a voice, ‘turn around, all of you, very slowly.’
We turned and found ourselves face to face with three guards, their guns raised. The one in the front smiled.
‘I could smell you a mile off,’ she said, with a nasty smile. ‘Smelly cunt.’
The two men behind her smirked.
‘Put your hands up,’ said one. ‘Go on.’
We raised our hands.
‘What are you going to do?’ I said.
‘Take you to Tony, that’s what I’m going to do.’
‘Why? Look around you, Tony’s lost.’
‘Not yet he hasn’t, and anyway, what would that matter? Doesn’t make me your friend, or your prisoner.’
‘Just let us go, will you? Please? I need to find my children.’
Her eyes glinted. ‘I don’t give a shit about your kids. Now shut up, turn around and move.’
I got mugged once in Edinburgh. It was broad daylight on a busy weekend afternoon in the Grassmarket, with plenty of people about. I was unlucky. I happened to turn up the wrong street and found myself alone with three young men. One took out a knife. It was only small, and he offered me the blade like a cigarette. His hands were shaking. ‘Geez yer purse,’ he said. That accent, the nasal whine of an Edinburgh schemie, so skewered with violence that it was almost more threatening than the knife. I wondered if he’d ever actually used it. Like this girl who stood in front of me. Her voice was all in her throat, all hard and taut like a throttled gull. I doubted she could make a soft vowel if she tried. And I doubted she had ever fired a gun.
My mugger had been chewing his gum furiously, and his breath was ripe with the tang of marijuana and Juicy Fruit. He spat at my feet and shook the blade at me. ‘And yer phone too, eh?’
I had always wondered what I would do in that situation. Do the sensible thing and give up the goods without a fight? It was a pain getting all your cards cancelled, and your whole life was on your phone back then, wasn’t it? Email, Facebook, Twitter, all logged in. Who knew what they’d be able to do with all my passwords before I managed to get to a computer and change them?
Scream for help? I could hear the crowds move happily on the street behind, unaware of my plight. Would anyone come before I was stabbed? Probably not.
Or take a chance? Refuse. Hit them, kick them, call their bluff. Surely nobody wants to stab someone else, not in broad daylight. But then again …
I decided to do the right thing that day. I emptied my pockets without a word, hands shaking, and gave it all up. My mugger smiled, kissed two fingers and placed them on my cheek. I couldn’t get rid of the smell of Juicy Fruit for weeks. But at least I was alive. I had been sensible.
‘Oi, smelly cunt. Did you hear me?’
That day in Gibraltar’s sunken harbour, with a tower burning behind me and gunfire thundering in the distance, I wasn’t feeling particularly sensible.
With a sideways glance at Bryce, I took a step towards her. I was taller than her.
She bristled.
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, sweetheart,’ I said, hardening my own accent into a cold Dundonian drawl, ‘you seem worryingly obsessed with my genital hygiene. Perhaps you should focus on concerns a little closer to home.’
Her eyes squeezed together in puzzled disgust. ‘Whatchoo talking about?’
‘What I’m talking about, sweetheart, is that I can always take a bath, but there’s absolutely bugger all you can do about that space between your ears.’
I swung my broom up with all the force I could muster, striking her on the chin. Her head snapped back, stretching the sinews of her throat, and there, finally, was that soft vowel. A childish ‘Huh!’ of surprise. Her gun went off, a single shot fired above our heads as she fell back into the guard behind her. He caught her, lost his balance and fell, by which time Carmela had run head first into his chest and the second guard’s neck had received the full force of Bryce’s gun butt. He grasped his throat with both hands and fell to his knees. Bryce relieved him of his gun and kicked him into the water, where he floundered, gasping for breath. Meanwhile, I disarmed the stunned girl while Josh and Richard did the same with the guard who lay beneath her. They struggled to their feet, the male bent double and the girl holding her bleeding chin, looking back at me like a child caught playing truant.
‘Now, piss off,’ I said. And after a moment’s hesitation, they did just that.
Carmela stood shakily next to Bryce, holding her head.
‘Como un toro,’ she said.
I turned. Maggie looked back at me with bemused admiration.
‘See, Mother?’ said Dani. ‘Tits. That’s what you need.’
We dashed to the Black Buccaneer and clambered aboard. By this time great cheers were rising up near the cruise ship, and figures ran about on its deck, some with blankets around their shoulders, others with guns helping them. The blaze from the harbour was spreading towards us, sending smoke across the deck.
As we unfastened the mooring ropes, Richard busied himself at the helm, which was tucked into a cavity in the middle of the boat behind the tallest mast. Inside was a confusing array of dials, levers and winches from which thick ropes drew out to the sails.
‘We’re going to have to use the engine to leave the harbour. Fuck, he’s not left the keys.’