by Devon Ford
“Two minutes, sir?” Max replied. “I just want to finish reading these last couple of reports to put it to bed.”
“Of course,” Richards answered over his shoulder, “I shall pour.”
Sighing at the prospect of having to drink scotch, a drink he didn’t even like, with a man who frightened him and listen to old stories, he quietly retrieved the paper he had secreted.
Following the snaking lines of ink from various sources back to the subject, his eyes settled on the most prevalent name.
Steve.
CONSOLIDATION
Polly sat first, inviting Dan, Leah, Mitch, Marie and the still oil-stained Neil to join her. She showed none of her usual prevarication and launched straight in to what was bothering her.
“Since you arrived, I have had concerns about the world outside of this valley,” she began surprising nobody. Dan remembered clearly the look of horror on her face when he had recapped the last nearly two years of their collective existence. “Up until you showed up, our biggest worries had been weather and wolves; and neither have been particularly troublesome—”
A knock at the door interrupted her and all five of them looked up expectantly as Victor walked in without waiting for a response to his knock. Perhaps he felt his presence was expected and the knock only served as an announcement. He was expected, as Polly fired a rapid sentence at him in French. He nodded and pulled up a chair to bridge the gap between Polly and her audience; no doubt an intentionally calculated move as Victor didn’t seem to be an outwardly emotional man, or that he had studied other humans and tried to join in their game.
“I’ve just told Victor that I was catching you up on our thought process,” she said to the people who spoke little to no French.
Interesting, thought Dan, shooting a meaningful glance at Marie to see it instantly reciprocated. Both believed there was a structure behind Polly’s seemingly unchallenged leadership of the town, now they felt certain that her private think tank was pulling at least some strings.
“And we both agree that the outside world has devolved into anarchy, which seems to have overlooked us. So far,” she said, leaving the last words hanging heavy.
“You mean the group we had to run from before we got here?” enquired Neil innocently
“Groups,” Victor corrected. “And yes. The groups that took almost all of your supplies, nearly killed someone you describe as your best fighter, and made you run.” His words were unintentionally harsh, more out of a lack of tact than any attempt to goad them. His almost detached sense of social skills reminded Dan of Emma when they had first rescued the timid scientist, except Victor wore a cloak of undisguised intellectual superiority which made him hard to like. If anyone would have reared up to spit back a retort to the implied criticism, Dan would probably have put money on it being himself. Or Leah. Mitch was, as always, implacably hard to annoy. To his small surprise, Marie was the first to speak, only she did so in a quietly precise voice which Dan recognised as a warning sign. With a small smile, he sat back to watch the exchange.
“Victor?” she said almost sweetly, wearing a disarming expression. “How well would you, or anyone here for that matter, have fared against a group of people who are obviously well trained and under effective leadership?”
Victor realised the situation he had just walked headfirst into; a disagreement with a woman who was not accustomed to losing disagreements. Holding his hands up to better explain and soften the meaning of his last statement too late, she fired.
“The five of us in this room could seize control of this town, even the pregnant one,” she added sarcastically. Leaning forward in her chair as far as her swelling midsection allowed, she continued her rant with a captive audience. Dan hadn’t had chance to fill her in on the conversation with Polly, so she didn’t know that Polly was coming – had probably already come – round to the idea of fortifying Sanctuary. He also knew that interrupting the future mother of his child was not a good idea.
“You’ve got one soldier,” she carried on, “and from what we hear now he probably wasn’t even a real soldier. So if you don’t think the outside world is a dangerous place then maybe we should leave?”
Polly almost had to stand and wave her arms to halt the beginning of the tirade.
“I agree entirely,” she said, stopping Marie midway through forming her next sentence.
“We are reliant on our walls, but walls need to be defended and our current strength – if it can be called that – seemed sufficient before your arrival.” She paused, unsure how to make her next point delicately. She finally decided on bluntness.
“And the simple fact is that our biggest threat from other people is because of you coming here. If you were followed...” She paused again to swallow and consider the wording of her next sentence. “I worry that you may have brought that violence of the outside world to us.”
Marie was the first to break the silence, embarrassed at her outburst and hostility. In truth, she was starting to lose control of her emotions at times and couldn’t quite convince herself that it was all pregnancy related; she had to accept that the rollercoaster they had been on before landing in safety had caused her more stress than she wanted to admit to anyone. Least of all Dan, who she suspected had been close to the edge, if not leaning precariously over it when Leah had dragged him back to her.
“I agree, I’m sorry”, she said. “We can’t blame you for not being prepared for what’s out there – you didn’t know it was like that until we turned up.”
Dan picked up her train of thought.
“I’m surprised that you haven’t, though,” he said. “We came across four hostile, armed groups within a matter of a few hundred miles of here and I don’t think you can hide forever, especially as you are literally broadcasting your location for everyone to hear.”
That caused a look to be exchanged between Polly and Victor. Clearing his throat, the professor answered the question.
“We put a stop to that over a month ago,” he said, surprising the others that he and Polly had obviously considered their vulnerability and not taken any action other than to stop advertising their presence.
“And now,” said Neil thoughtfully, “you want to take a more proactive approach to staying safe?” he enquired gently with emphasis.
Another look between their hosts.
“Yes,” they both answered at once.
“Dan,” Victor said, “your group have the skills and experience that we have been lacking and, until recently, we did not understand that we needed an answer to violence.”
Dan agreed wholly. He was so deeply ingrained in his cynicism and fear of outsiders now that he saw no other way to be: violence had to be met with overwhelming violence. Hit them before they can hit you. His mind flashed back to a conversation with Penny so long ago that it was in a different world. He told her that sometimes violence was the only answer.
Concentrating again on the immediate, he told the room about the military base discovered by Pietro which didn’t come as a surprise to anyone present.
World travelled fast, even without social media and phones, it seemed.
For the next hour, they worked out the logistics of travelling there and hopefully bringing back all the toys Leah wanted to fulfil the plan which had kept her awake for weeks.
THE STORM
The weather closed in on them with such malevolence that it kept all but the most resilient of people safely ensconced inside. It rained for a days on end, non-stop; the kind of heavy, relentless rain which soaked a man to the skin in minutes and with it came the cold, bitter winds blasting in from the sea.
The fishing parties were driven ashore and could not risk braving the roiling swells for weeks, even though the fishermen and women were unperturbed by rain. The risk of a boat capsizing was too great to take, especially as any rescue would not be coming. Even fishing by line from the sea wall became too perilous as waves crashed over the parapet day and night.
Dan
was frustrated as he always was when he was stuck inside. His impatience stemmed from having a task which needed undertaking, and his inability to accept a timetable which didn’t comply with his ‘now’ principle. His impatience and frustration poured out through pure sullenness, and Marie made her feelings clear on the matter. She had her own worries; not that she didn’t feel like ensuring the protection of the town was a priority, but more that her daily dosage of aspirin became a constant reminder that both she and the baby she carried were drawing closer to the most fraught and dangerous time to both of their lives. The course of gentle blood thinners would escalate towards the end of her now very obvious pregnancy and culminate in doses of warfarin leading up to her estimated due date in about four months’ time.
His impatience and her short temper made for the occasional explosive disagreement which could be heard in detail by anyone within an immediate proximity to their room.
Leaning back on her bed with Ash asleep on his back by her feet, legs in the air, Leah smiled to herself. Taking the outsider’s view to their current argument, it was clear to her that both were of the same opinion, only that both wanted the notion accepted in their own words and neither would budge. They were arguing the same point to each other, and for whatever reason neither could see it. Intervention crossed her mind, but was dismissed as far too much effort would be required.
All she could do was bide her time. She used the ancient stone staircases twice daily to sprint up before walking back down and repeating the process; each time followed by an amused but uncomprehending Ash. This kind of explosive exercise rang a small bell in the back of her mind from before. From her old life. Something about high-intensity cardio or something, but the catchy name no longer mattered. She raised her heartrate until her lungs threatened to burst on each slow descent to ground level, only to be forced back up on the next sprint. Dan even joined her some days, desperate for some form of physical punishment to focus his mind. They had no breath to speak to one another as the precious breath was required to replenish the oxygen burned from their muscles, but the companionship felt comfortable in its familiarity. Every day she would sit with Mitch… when she could find him. He disappeared for hours on end and was rarely seen joining them for an evening meal. The two went over in minute detail what should be on their wish lists. There was only so much planning they could repeat without the weather softening and allowing them to break cover.
~
Much further north, beyond the mountains which cut off the small section of the continent from the rest, a dark Land Rover drove slowly down a muddied track. The mud was cloying and ankle-deep now, and as the vehicle pulled to a stop close to a low building, the driver jumped down to land her clean boots heavily in a thick puddle. Cursing to herself she squelched to the door with her head tucked low against the howling wind. Standing to her full height as she emerged into the dry cocoon of the poorly lit room, she shrugged off her heavy black coat and shook the rain from it.
The three men around the table, all looking down on a paper map weighted at the corners, looked up at her arrival before bending their heads low again. She stalked towards the muttering sounds coming from the group and asked for an update. Two of the men glanced at each other before the taller one spoke.
“What we heard from their radio transmission, before it stopped broadcasting, leads me to believe they are here,” he said gruffly, pointing the tip of a much-sharpened knife onto the south coast. The woman did not know where their current position was in relativity, but in this group she was already at risk of scorn from all but the leader so she kept that small ignorance to herself. He had elevated her position to one of power over others and the ingrained military sexism annoyed her, although not as much as it annoyed the men who now had to answer to her.
“And your plan?” she asked him confidently.
He thought on that for a moment.
“Do you think we can assault this place, Sabine?”
She knew the question was asked intentionally to showcase her authority, and she played along.
“We think this place is fortified, do we not?” she responded, meeting his gaze. He nodded.
“Then instead of trying to break in by force, maybe we try another way?” she said suggestively.
Leo, le chasseur, regarded his two subordinates briefly before quietly asking for the room. They shot glances at each other, at the woman, then walked out into the appalling weather without another word. Leo liked Sabine, the cat-like woman who matched his ruthlessness. She had brought supplies, fuel, weapons and nearly thirty men and women to his group and offered a deal. She filled in many of the blanks in his knowledge about this group of English who so imperiously wandered into his territory but resolutely refused to die. Pouring two glasses of something from a bottle he offered her one and gestured for her to sit with him.
“You mean to suggest subterfuge over force?” he enquired, suspecting that she held a tactical view. Unlike any of his men, she knew how to be sneaky.
“Yes. You want to chop down the tree, whereas I would suggest letting it rot from the inside.”
A cruel smile appeared on his face as he raised his glass to her in small salute of her suggestion.
“And the prisoners?” he asked. “Do they feature in this rot?”
Smiling and leaning back in comfort she took a sip of her drink. “I’m sure they can be useful,” she said with a cruel smile matched only by the man opposite her. “They can be used to unsettle them first, then…” She paused. “…a cheval de Troie,” she finished.
Leo smiled wider. “A Trojan horse?” he repeated, “This, I like.”
ALL ALONG THE WATCHTOWER
If leaving the safety of their walled town for an extended supply run was an impossibility until the period of bad weather broke, then the least Dan could do was focus on issues closer to home.
Much to the evident disgust of Olivier who stood in his usual spot by the heavy wooden gates, Dan strode past him without even acknowledging his presence and opened the room – little more than a broom cupboard – which served as an armoury using the key Polly had given him. Both he and Leah were kitted up as warriors once more, and in addition wore heavy waterproofs over the top of their equipment which had grown tighter given their evident comfort inside a safe zone. Dan hadn’t replaced his lost and destroyed carbine since it had inadvertently saved his life by blocking the axe blow which would have likely severed his head, so now he retrieved their only surviving battle rifle chambered in the heavier 7.62 calibre. Where they were going, he needed to check out the vantage point with that kind of weapon anyway.
He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched ever since Pietro told him about the wolves that stalked the mountains surrounding them, and that fear was further compounded when Leah returned to corroborate the story from the inland farm. The fact that he was flanked by his own dangerous animal didn’t register any irony in him, but his trademark shotgun strapped to the back of his equipment vest served as reassurance against the mysterious and primeval threat.
Braving the stinging rain blowing in unpredictable gusts from the sea, they left the enclave without ceremony and put their heads down to begin the climb.
In perfect weather, it would take someone of their fitness maybe thirty minutes to reach the high summit overlooking Sanctuary, even carrying weapons and equipment. With their heads tucked low and their footing unsure on the wet, rocky path, it took them closer to an hour. By the time the last false crest on the ground ahead fell away to reveal the base of the ancient stone tower, they were both exhausted and soaked to the skin despite their heavy coats. Ash, in contrast, was also soaked but seemed happy enough for the exercise. Shaking himself noisily at the door of the circular structure, he waited patiently for someone to let him in, no doubt intending to perform a more thorough shake when safely in a dry room.
Polly had briefed Dan about their barely-resident and cagey hermit, Claude, and offered to accompany them. Hearing that Claude spoke p
assable English, Dan politely declined the suggestion of a chaperone and saw Polly’s evident relief at not having to brave the elements.
In no doubt at all that Claude would have seen them coming and had at least thirty minutes warning of their arrival, Dan raised his eyes to the windows that began on what he guessed was at least the third floor and shouted out a loud greeting.
Silence answered his call.
Not true silence, because the howling wind raged around them and the sound of rain hitting their waterproof clothing and equipment sounded like sporadic hail stones, but at least silence reigned form inside. Just as he was about to shout again, the unmistakable sound of a heavy bolt sliding back permeated the maelstrom outside and the door creaked open slightly. Nobody appeared in the doorway, and only darkness showed inside. Ignoring any sense of foreboding they might have felt under different circumstances, all three bundled inside.
What they found was not what they were expecting. It was as though they had stumbled, wet and dripping and heavily armed, into the cosy set of a bedtime story reading. A pair of comfortable rocking chairs sat in front of an open fire, one looking indented and well-worn where the other seemed untouched but for the layer of dust coating it, and little else adorned the circular room. A high wooden bench served as what appeared to be a kitchen, pallets of tinned food were stacked in neat rows against the wall behind it, and a wooden staircase wound upwards into the ceiling high above.
As Dan took a slow circle to drink in the unexpected ambience, the door slammed noisily and the bolt slid home again. Fighting down the instinct to treat this as a threat, Dan made himself turn slowly and regard their new neighbour.
Seeing a short, grizzled veteran of a man with a chest-length grey beard and suspicious eyes, Dan again forced his face to show his intent and not his reaction. First contact protocols, he thought with a hidden smile.
