To Philip’s credit, he seemed to think about it. “Perhaps,” he muttered, looking down at his son and seeming to put a pin in the matter. “Here, set Bray down beneath these trees.”
Kamiyo looked up at the trailing canopy of a willow tree and agreed it was a nice cool patch. He bent his knees and eased the boy onto the ground. “We need to set up ground cover and a tarp overhead. Can’t risk bird faeces landing on the patients.”
“I’ll see what I can find. Thank you, doctor. I appreciate this.”
Kamiyo smiled, then looked out over the moonlit lake. Several ducks and a bevy of swans idled on the water. Their presence worried him. In fact, the entire lake shimmered with movement. “Someone needs to watch over the sick at all times. There’s too much wildlife here. Once we have Carol and Michael situated, I’ll take the first shift.”
Philip nodded. “I understand. I’ll keep watch on my boy until then.”
Kamiyo glanced back at the shimmering lake, unsettled by it. It seemed alive, almost apprehensive, like Mother Nature herself was trying to call out a warning. Then Kamiyo turned to watch the growing campfire outside the log cabin. Plumes of black smoke and glowing embers rose into the sky.
Could this place really remain hidden?
10
TED
“I think we’re okay.” Hannah scanned the trees with her rifle. As chatty as she was, she’d been utterly silent for the last hour. In fact, her unwavering focus unnerved Ted. She straightened up from a crouch and looked at him. Her hair was still wound tight as steel. “They were sticking to the road when we last saw them. Hopefully, that’s where they’ll stay.”
“They’ll start checking out places like this eventually,” said Ted, sweeping aside a thorny bush with his hammer. “They’ve already moved out from the towns and cities, spreading out like a net, and we’re the fish.”
Hannah turned a circle, studying the ground and then peering up at the canopy. “They’ll have a hard time finding us in this forest. I didn’t know places like this still existed.”
“You didn’t think forests existed?”
She chuckled. “Well, yeah, I knew they existed. I just thought they were elsewhere, in places like Norway and… Narnia. I thought England got paved over long ago.”
“Don’t swallow everything the media feeds you, luv. There’s plenty of land left, but they drip-feed it to keep the house prices and rents high.”
Hannah frowned. “Why would anybody do that?”
“Because half the MPs in Westminster own digs. Landlords and developers, the lot of ‘em. Every law that passes through Parliament benefits some Tory muppet or another.”
“Wow, are you one of those conspiracy nuts?”
He shot her a dirty look. Why were the young so blind to what was piled in front of them? Maybe because they spent their entire lives staring at their phones. No point trying to educate her now. In fact, he should be using the past tense. “Guess, it don’t matter anymore. The politicians are all dead. One of the few good things to come out of this soddin’ mess.”
Hannah winced. “Shit, Ted. That’s cold.”
Ted used his hammer to push back a branch as he stepped through some brambles. Hannah followed him, as always, yet somehow she managed to do so without making a sound, while he sounded like a bowling ball rolling through cornflakes. “Morbid jokes are the only jokes I have left,” he told her. “You don’t have to laugh.”
“I know what you’re saying,” she said. “Being alone has a way of making you numb. Most days, my head is full of empty static.”
“Really? Because it seems like you never go on bloody standby.”
“It’s my anxiety. I get pretty jittery and talking gets out my nervous energy. My sergeant used to say it was a wonder I could shoot straight with my shaky hands.”
Ted climbed up and over a fallen log, landing on a rock that sent a jolt up his heel. The pain quickly subsided, and he oddly missed it once it was gone. “Seems to me,” he muttered, “that you have steady enough hands when the shit hits the fan.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe you took on a group of demons with nothing but a hammer and a nail gun. That was pretty badass.”
“Pretty stupid, you mean?”
“Yeah, actually. That is what I meant. Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
Ted didn’t answer that. It would reveal too much of himself. He didn’t want to be friends. He didn’t want company.
“I tried to kill myself once,” Hannah said bluntly, as if she were sharing something no more intimate than her favourite colour. Ted glanced back at her, surprised by the candour, but she gave him a shrug and carried on speaking. “It wasn’t recently,” she said. “Not since, you know, all of this. It was when I was a teenager. Suppose that was when I first got my anxiety. Normal teenage problems, mostly—boys, booze, bitch fights. My grandfather was a Nazi.”
Ted stumbled and had to use his hammer as a crutch to keep from falling. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He tried again. “H-Huh?”
Hannah chuckled. “Yeah, Grandpa Weber was a fully carded Nazi. Had an iron cross and everything. He was as brave as he was racist.”
“And you’re what? Proud?”
“Fuck no! It was finding out that made me suicidal, or at least pushed me over the edge. Dad was ashamed of where we came from, but he still loved Grandpa—kept all his old things in a box in the garage. I was rooting around one day and found it all. Dad got angry at me for snooping around and refused to tell me anything about it. He got so furious, like he’d caught me with a needle in my arm or something. I was so confused. Didn’t know who I was, like, or who my family was. I took an overdose a few weeks later. Dad hadn’t spoken to me once in that time. I just…” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I just felt alone.”
Ted realised then how young Hannah was. Not in years, for she was mid-twenties at least, but in spirit. She wore her heart on her sleeve like a child did, and as annoying as it was, it was hard to hate someone so honest. “I’m sorry,” he said, having to force the words out. “That must have been tough.”
“To a mixed-up girl coming to terms with being a lesbian, yeah, it was a shit time in my life. Dad found me in my bed, barely alive. The neighbours heard his screams. After I recovered in hospital, he broke down and told me the truth about Grandpa. The old Nazi killed himself a day after Germany surrendered. My dad had just turned sixteen, and he left the country in shame. Moved to England as a kind of penance, met my mum and tried to put the past behind him. He told me the best way to make up for the past was to protect the future. That’s why I joined the forces, not to fight Islamist extremists or topple foreign regimes. No, I wanted to show that I stood for what this country is about. I wanted to do what my grandpa did, but for the right side. Huh, maybe it was a way of reorienting my family’s identity.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Ted decided that over-sharing was as awkward now as it had ever been.
“Because I’m hoping that if you get to know me, you won’t ditch me first chance you get. Besides, who you gunna tell?”
Ted stopped walking and turned to her. “Do you have daddy issues or something, luv? You’ve been like a stray mutt since the moment I met you, licking at my elbows and begging for scraps.”
“I think I explained that, yeah, I have major daddy issues, but that’s just one item on a long list, pet. Truthfully, I don’t want to be alone again. I’ve been alone since the battle in Derby—like, really fucking alone. For all I know, you might be the last other person alive. Means I’m a little reluctant to let you go wandering off on your own.”
Ted took his hammer from over his shoulder and thumped it against the ground and leant on it. Somehow, in their retreat, they’d lost sight of the narrow access road, and had entered the energy-sapping undergrowth. “Being alone is better, trust me.”
Hannah had stopped too. “Being alone is scary. The type of scary that tears at your soul. I know I’m being clingy, b
ut I don’t think I can go back to that. Please, Ted, just… give me a chance to grow on you, okay?”
“The only thing that grows on me, luv, is athlete’s foot. I don’t want a pet.”
“Okay, that’s disgusting, but point taken. Just give me the night then. We can figure out a plan in the morning.”
Ted looked around at the trees, which grew increasingly ominous as night set in. “I usually sleep in my truck. How the hell am I supposed to sleep out here in the stix?”
“You grab a load of weeds and moss to make a mattress. It’s a cool night, we should be okay in just our clothes. We could even start a wee fire. I have a lighter in one of my pockets somewhere.”
“I ain’t sleeping in the mud. There’s still a little light. Let’s head back to the road. The demons will have gone.”
“I really think we’ll be safer here, Ted. Besides, do you even remember which way the road is? I don’t even see the road anymore.”
Ted pointed. “We came from that direction. So, let’s…” He trailed off, squinting and sniffing. “Huh? Do you smell burning?”
Hannah took a moment, tipping her head back and breathing in deeply. Then she looked at Ted. “Do you think it’s a forest fire?”
Ted pulled a face. “We’re not in California.”
“There used to be fires every day when the fighting started.”
“But not anymore. There’s no one left to start one.”
Hannah shrugged. “What then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the demons are up to something. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe there’s someone out here in the woods. You mentioned starting a camp fire.”
“You think the burning smell is coming from a camp?” Hannah appeared incredulous at first, but then Ted saw hope creep onto her face. “Let’s go. Let’s go see!”
“Hold your horses!” He waved a hand, keeping her from sprinting off like a Labrador. “We don’t know what it is. I’d say a burning smell is bad more often than it’s good.”
“Well, I can’t walk away without checking.” She moved past him, too eager now to stop. “Stay here if you want.”
Ted sighed, and for the first time today, he was the one following her.
11
DR KAMIYO
Kamiyo could barely believe it when the group did indeed start singing around the campfire. It wasn’t Kumbaya, but one adult did strum away on an acoustic guitar.
“That’s Eric,” Jackie informed him as she handed him an honest-to-god cup of tea and pointed to a short, black fellow. “He’s a music teacher and a local volunteer here at the activity centre. He was the only member of staff that stayed behind with us. Next to him is Carrie-Anne, she’s a caterer. That’s Steven, a butcher. Frank and Philip, you already know. That’s all of the adults, along with Carol. She’s a florist.”
Kamiyo found it odd how Jackie introduced people by what they are instead of what they were, but he accepted it and tried to enjoy the good fortune he was receiving. The sound of children singing was beautiful, but also haunting, and he couldn’t ignore the distant glaze in each of their eyes, or the hollow way they smiled at one another. As settled as they appeared, they must have swum through a torrent of misery to get here. With so few adults, the children would be grieving the loss of their parents, and siblings too. Amazing that they were alive, but was the pain worth it? The suffering?
Is this life? Or just a crude imitation?
Kamiyo left the campfire to check on his three patients, weighing up the numbers in his head. Left untreated, Typhoid Fever killed one-in-five. With James dead before Kamiyo had even got there, it meant all three of his patients should pull through, and when he checked their temperatures, they seemed stable. If there was a fatality, he expected it to be Carol. Her condition was worse, and the children, being young, had a far better chance of recovery. What made Kamiyo angry though, was that there shouldn’t even be the probability of anyone dying. Simple antibiotics or bactericides wiped Typhoid off its feet in days. Instead, Carol and both of the children slipped in and out of consciousness, burning up in front of him.
The camp had isolated another five children at his request, and they now sat on the far side of the campfire, ready to retire to a pair of large tents that Jackie had allocated them. If they had Typhoid Fever, the odds predicted one of them might die—or suffer severe after-effects at the very least. For centuries, mankind had striven to lessen the odds against its survival, to make death’s job harder, but now the medical breakthroughs were meaningless. You were more likely to die trying to retrieve medicines from a hospital than you were from whatever you hoped to treat. And this wouldn’t be the end of things either. This camp, without medicine, electricity, fresh water… More people were going to get ill. In this new world, a simple infection could be deadly. A toothache could be deadly. Christ, even asthma could be deadly. They were back to the old days when kings died of syphilis and the elderly froze to death every winter. Living beside a body of standing water was a risky proposition too.
The shimmering lake still possessed that unsettling aura of consciousness, hidden secrets beneath its surface. Kamiyo scanned the shadows of the distant reeds. As much as the world had changed, for the ducks and swans, it was business as usual. Crickets trilled almost as loud as the children sang.
Movement to his left captured Kamiyo’s attention, and he saw Jackie coming towards him with something in her hands. When he saw it was a paper plate full of food, his mouth watered.
“You trotted off without dinner,” she said as she handed over what looked like dried fish and a handful of nuts and berries. “It’s all safe. Part of the activity weekend here was foraging, so we have plenty of guides about what’s good and what’s not. We’ve been eating the stuff for weeks.”
“Thank you. I’ve been eating out of tins and packets so long I’ve forgotten what fresh food tastes like. Never make me eat peaches again, alright?”
Jackie chuckled. She sat on the grass and prompted him to do the same. “I can only imagine. What is it like out there? Is anyone left at all?”
He answered her question with a sigh. “I’m sorry. It might be different elsewhere, but there’s nothing left outside this forest that I saw.”
Jackie stared at her hands for a moment, then shook her head and looked at him. “I don’t believe that. There has to be other people out there because there’s us.”
“People used the same logic about finding intelligent life in the universe, but did you ever meet an alien?”
“I never met a man from Peru, but I know they exist.”
Kamiyo considered that might no longer be true, but he didn’t voice his thoughts. “I just think you’re better off not worrying about the world beyond this forest. What you have here is all that matters. You need to survive.”
“That’s what we’ve been doing all this time!” She leant over and pinched a nut from his plate and chewed on it. “We’ve done a fine job of it too, if I say so myself.”
Kamiyo took a nibble of the dried fish. It was largely tasteless, which was nice. The tinned peaches and cold baked beans he’d been living off were at times hard to swallow. It was nice to get something down with little effort. “Where does everyone sleep at night?” he asked.
“Upstairs in the cabin mainly. There’s a conference room where we all bed down together. There are the tents outside too, which you will have seen. Some of us sleep in those during the hotter nights, but it’s getting chillier now. So yes, we all bed down together in the cabin. Rather cosy to tell you the truth.”
“That needs to stop. People shouldn’t share enclosed spaces wherever possible. Spread out into separate rooms and set up more tents. Sleeping in groups is unhealthy in these conditions. You’re already getting sick.”
Jackie smiled, but it seemed strained. “If you think that’s best, doctor. The younger children were all supposed to sleep inside the cabin during the original camping weekend so that’s what we came prep
ared for.” She sighed. “Only the teenagers brought tents. We’ll figure something out. Any other suggestions?”
“Not at the moment. The biggest threat to this camp, aside from the demons, is infection. Maybe I can cultivate some penicillin, I’d need to look at your supplies first. We need to keep sterilised water at hand, boil bed linens once a week, set up a latrine far away from camp. Maybe up in the castle?”
“We already set one up when the toilets in the cabin stopped working. It’s an area at the edge of the woods.”
“Good. Look, I’m not saying I’m an expert, Jackie. Far from it. But this might be last piece of civilisation left on earth. We have to protect it.”
“It’s not going to matter though, is it? The demons will find us. Perhaps not today, but eventually. What chance do these children have of growing old?”
“Probably none.” Kamiyo hated to admit it, but pleasantries were dangerous. It was better to face the dangers of the world with a lucid mind. “The only thing to do now is make what life they have left as comfortable as possible. It might be years before the demons find this place.”
Another person approached and Kamiyo looked up to see Philip. “How’s Bray doing?” he asked. “I only stepped away for a minute to get some foo-”
“He’s good, Philip. His fever has come down a little since we brought him outside. A couple days and he might be on the mend.”
Philip deflated like an old balloon. “Thank heavens. What about Carol and Michael?”
Kamiyo glanced at the other boy and the woman. Carol didn’t look good. “I have the same prognosis. We just have to keep them settled and cool. Fingers crossed, the infection will burn itself out soon. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”
“Poor Carol,” said Jackie. “She devoted her life to these kids. Couldn’t have any of her own, bless her. She’s our mother hen.”
Kamiyo watched the sleeping woman and once again feared she would fall victim to the odds. Death might find her too weak to resist its bony grasp.
Hell On Earth Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 89
