The girl nods, her plaits moving against her jacket, her smile broad.
“My full name is Eleanor Victoria Fitzpatrick, but my mum calls me Ellie.”
Mimi smiles, but the mask of fear lowers again as her eyes return to the road.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
Mimi perks up.
Ellie leans forward and whispers in conspiratorial tones, “My friends used to call me Fitz!”
The girl giggles. “Fitz! That’s silly.”
“It is, and I used to hate it, but now I don’t mind.”
“Can I call you Fitz?”
Ellie’s turn to laugh. “Sure, as long as you don’t laugh when you say it!”
Mimi’s belly erupts with a long and bubbling gurgle. Both burst into laughter. “OK, Mimi. I hear you. Let’s get some food!”
Ten minutes later, Ellie pulls the ambulance into the carpark of a large supermarket. An enormous sign proclaiming ‘Tesco Express 24 hrs’ rides high on its roof. She checks the petrol level before switching off the engine; not full, but enough to get them out of the city—she can fill up once they’ve bought some food.
Scanning the sparsely occupied car park, she motions for Mimi to follow and they make their way across the tarmac to the bright lights of the supermarket. The doors slide open to an almost complete silence. A single shopper passes at the end of one aisle. At the checkout, a solitary cashier’s head of scraped back brown hair can be seen above the till. Mimi pulls at her hand and reaches for a basket. “It’s the same as the one at home. Can I have a ham sandwich and some crisps?” She points to the chiller beyond a circular display of flowers.
“Sure.”
The silence is eerie as Ellie scans the empty spaces, though nothing is untoward. She’s unused to shopping in the middle of the night, that’s all. She strides with the girl to the chiller, walking off the tension. Rows of sandwiches are displayed, along with plastic packets of sushi, salads, desserts and bottles of soda. The girl reaches for a bottle of cola, Ellie bites back the urge to stop her. Let her have what she wants, she’s not your kid anyway. Sure, but what about her teeth? What about the aspartame? “Are you sure you don’t prefer water?”
“You sound like my mum!”
Ellie laughs. “Well, cola tastes nice, but it’s not good for you.”
She sighs and reaches for a bottle of milkshake. “This?”
“Sure, if it’s what you want.”
She puts it back and reaches for the water.
“Let’s take both.”
The girl smiles. “Thanks.”
The sound of the double doors at the entrance sliding open fills the space and a group of men walk through. The place fills with raucous laughter. As the door slides shut, a loud crack sounds in the distance quickly followed by a rapid tack, tack, tack that ricochets. Oblivious, the men stroll past and make their way to the back of the store.
Ellie grabs the milkshake from the shelf then reaches back for more. “I think we should perhaps add some for the journey.”
“Is it far?”
“Too far to walk.” Ellie fills the basket with sandwiches, bottles of juice, chicken salads, trays of sushi, and bags of crisps.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yep,” she replies glancing back to the entrance, her nerves ramped up once more.
“Can I have some chocolate?”
“Yes, sure. Take what you want.”
Mimi skips along the aisles until she reaches one with rows of confectionary stacked on its narrow shelves. She grabs a handful then makes her way back. The loud chatter and laughing of the group of men seems to bounce around the vast space as Ellie walks towards Mimi, basket full, a sense of foreboding filling her gut. The weight of the basket cuts into her arm and she lifts it to the conveyor belt with relief and smiles at the cashier. A bleary-eyed woman, dark hair pulled back in a straggled pony tail streaked grey, smiles back. “Morning, love.” She notices Mimi with a disapproving frown. “Bit late for a littlun to be up!”
Cheeky cow! “Our plane was diverted. We’re on our way home.”
“We’re going to my house.” Mimi pipes up. The cashier stares at the girl with bloodshot eyes. Ellie’s heart trips. She scans the woman’s face as the woman scans the products. No sign of black on her lips.
“That’s nice.” She passes another packet of sushi across the reader. It beeps.
The noise of the sliding doors swishes again. A man and a woman stride through the entrance. The woman’s blonde hair is matted with blood. The man glares across the aisles with a grimace set across his face. His teeth gleam white against dark skin.
“Don’t move!” Ellie hisses as the couple walk deeper into the shop. Outside a high-pitched shriek breaks the silence. Ellie’s heart thumps against her ribs.
The cashier swipes a packet of prawn salad sandwiches across the reader. “Tut! Been hearing that bloody noise all night!” The till beeps. The woman with the bloodied hair turns to stare.
“Shh!” Ellie grabs Mimi’s arm and pulls her with excruciating slowness to a crouch. The cashier frowns. “What’s up, love?”
She twists to look over her shoulder. “They after you?” She bends over the till to peer down. “I’ve got a buzzer under the till if you need help,” she whispers.
What if it’s just a couple of junkies? Sure, but what if they’re like them—the monsters on the plane? Ellie nods, mouths, ‘Yes!’.
The woman purses her lips and presses the button beneath her desk with a conspiratorially self-important nod. Ellie peers over the till. The couple are making their way along the space between the aisles and the tills, striding in their direction. She shuffles, forcing Mimi to move away from the till to their escape route; a run of about fifty feet from the till to the exit.
From the back of the shop comes the slam of a door then clattering feet. The pair turn in the direction of the noise then sprint, disappearing between the aisles.
“Go!” Ellie hisses, grabbing the bag of shopping.
“Hey!” The cashier rises from her seat as Ellie grabs Mimi’s hand. “You haven’t paid for those!”
As she pulls the child with her, their reflections flashing in the glass of the shop’s massive windows, a man screams. The chatter of the laughing group stops. Shouts erupt as products crash from shelves. The doors slide open and Ellie darts across the carpark, Mimi surges ahead, throwing herself behind the ambulance before swinging the door open. Ellie jumps in after the girl, then slams the door shut.
Back at the supermarket, beneath its bright lights and vast plate-glass windows, the violence erupting inside is on clear view.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The plastic bag spills its hoard of sandwiches, drinks, and sushi into the footwell as Ellie rams the ambulance’s gear into reverse then swings the vehicle round to exit the carpark, relieved at the stillness of the landscape as she turns to face the outgoing road. A single car moves towards the roundabout as she makes her approach, indicates to take the third exit, and disappears. Normality! Bizarre how it sits so close to absolute knicker-shitting chaos.
With the rapid pounding in her chest, the screams of the woman and the men back in the supermarket ringing in her ears, she wants to vomit. She glances down at the girl. Mimi is silent beside her. Ellie grips the steering wheel, suppressing the need to scream, to screech at the top of her lungs until her voice splits, her throat made sore. The girl makes no noise. How can she be so still when all Ellie wants to do is implode with fear? Oh, hell! Is this one of those times when a kid shuts down? She’s seen it in films, they go into themselves and never speak again or at least not until they’re cured by some miraculous event. Shit! Think, Fitz, think! What the hell can she say to the kid to make it less traumatic? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Tell them everything will be all right and protect them from shit like this? Shit like this, Fitz? What in God’s name are you talking about? What is shit like this? This is bizarre, unreal, a horror film that you’re stuck inside, your
waking, living ‘Nightmare on Elm Street’. A laugh erupts as a cackle. Where’s Freddie? Back at the supermarket, stupid, only there’s a Mrs Freddie too. She shudders. She needs to pee, or shit, or puke. Calm it, stupid cow! She takes a breath. Stay calm ... for the kid. Be a grown up.
“Put your seatbelt on, Mimi.”
The child stares ahead. Doesn’t react. The last thing she needs is some comatose kid on her hands, too terrified to run the next time ... Oh, shit! The next time they attack. Her stomach somersaults, and she gags, as vomit rises up her throat. Swallow it down, wimp! You can’t puke when you’re driving! Just man the fuck up.
“Mimi. Can you put your seatbelt on, please?” Ellie’s voice is an irritating whine.
No response. Oh, hell. She’s unresponsive. Perhaps she needs to make her feel secure—like the boy did to the girl in that film when they were escaping the aliens, the one where Tom Cruise was the dad. She made a safe space, like a ring, with her arms. Sweat beads at Ellie’s hairline. Why won’t the kid do as she’s asked? She tries again. “Mimi, please put your seatbelt on.”
Again, no response.
Ellie clenches her jaws. As if she hasn’t got enough to put up with! “Mimi!” Her voice is harsh, rising in volume. “Put your goddamned seat belt on!”
The girl gasps and cowers to the door.
Instant regret. “Sorry!”
The girl stares back, eyes wide, red-rimmed and puffy, then scrabbles for the seatbelt and clicks it into place.
“Sorry, Mimi. I shouldn’t have shouted.”
The girl sniffs and nods.
“You hungry?”
She nods again. For crying out loud, speak!
“Come on, Mimi. We’re in this together. I’m going to get you home to your dad.”
The girl nods as she stares straight ahead.
“You’ll feel better if you have something to eat. Get one of those sandwiches. I got ham for you, and there’s chocolate too.” Ellie reaches across to the passenger footwell, the ambulance swerves. “I can’t get it.” She sits up and rights the ambulance, quickly checking the rearview mirror. Theirs is the only vehicle on the road. Her eyes burn with fatigue. “I’ll pull over so we can eat. There’s no one else around.”
Ahead is another large roundabout flanked to the right by a giant pub, to the left a squat petrol station, closed for the night, and a low building housing a DIY store and a bathroom warehouse. Straight ahead are two roads, one lined with houses, the other rising to a hill flanked by trees. She takes the hill with the trees; the route least likely to be inhabited.
Barely more than ten minutes after Ellie had pulled over to eat a sandwich and finish off the first packet of sushi, they are back on the road. Getting out of the city, away from the carnage that seemed to be following them, is her priority—the one way she can help to keep Mimi safe. She’s never been maternal, certainly didn’t feel like being a mother in this moment, but a sense of responsibility for the ‘unaccompanied minor’ clings to her like the stench of sulphur from the aeroplane. It’s what the travel-worn, yet immaculate, air-hostess from the plane would have done, if she hadn’t turned into one of those bone-breaking, teeth gnashing monsters. That she had become one of the zombie-monster-things, Ellie was certain, the black lip-liner was proof of that, and the red tinge to her eyes. Those were the features she is aware of, were very obvious, along with the insane grin, truly wretched halitosis, and propensity to gouge out a fellow human’s eyeballs. Were they even human? Yes, just the worst kind. Come to think of it, were they any worse than the murdering terrorists that hacked off traveller’s heads in the name of their equally insane god? Ellie thinks perhaps not, her own beliefs being strictly peace-loving and atheistic, although, given tonight, if she had to, she’d chop off any monster’s head that dared to come near.
She indicates left. A large sign ahead proclaims a ring-road leading to a motorway. A car heads towards them on the other side of the road. Normal. Sparse traffic, perfectly normal for this time of night. Ahead is a lorry, no doubt loaded and heading out for a day of deliveries. She allows the tension to leave her shoulders and eases back in the seat.
“Not far now, Mimi. We’re on the road that leads out of the city.”
Ahead the lorry slows, its brake lights flashing red, easing off, then shining again. Within the next seconds it stops. Damn lorry driver! King of the Road? Too arrogant to indicate? She indicates to pull out into the next lane, overtakes the lorry and slams on her brakes. Ahead a bank of lights crosses the road.
“Damn! Roadworks!”
There had been no indication that the road ahead was closed, no signs at the side of the highway proclaiming diversion. She rolls the ambulance forward and leans out of the window as though that will make the scene clearer. “Hey!” she shouts, but gets no response.
“Put the flashing lights on. They have to let ambulances through.”
She talks! “I can’t, we’re not really an ambulance.”
“Well, it is kind of an emergency. We need to get away from the angry people.”
Ellie catches Mimi’s eyes. “Yes. All right. I will.”
She flicks on the overhead light, locates the switch for the lights and turns them on. The road and the cab fill with pulsing blue light. She rolls forward, squinting against the intense brightness. The lorry’s door opens and slams shut. The driver climbs down, a squat, solitary figure in the rapidly flashing lights.
“Wait here, Mimi. I’m going to see what the holdup is.”
“Don’t be long.”
“I won’t. Just hold on here until I come back.”
As she jumps to the tarmac, another car pulls up behind the ambulance. The driver beeps his horn as Ellie follows the lorry driver. Ahead, a bank of vehicles blocks the road and what appear to be armed soldiers with faces covered by breathing apparatus. As the lorry driver’s voice rises, so do their guns. The driver raises a fist gripped in a gesture of frustration, and wags it at the men. Ellie catches ‘Fascist!’ and ‘Prisoner’, the universal ‘fuck you’, and ‘Bastardos’, before he turns and strides back to his lorry.
“What is it?” she shouts as he passes.
“Army.” His voice is thick with anger. “They will not let us pass.”
Dread slides its fingers over her face and her breath catches. They have to let them pass. “What? Why?”
“They say, ‘road closed’.”
“If it’s just closed, then why the breathing apparatus?” She turns again to the light, figures flit across it.
“It is cuarantena.”
“Pardon?”
“Qwaaranteen.”
“Quarantine?”
“Si. They do not want us to leave.”
A stone drops in her belly. “But we have to leave! I have a child.”
“You try. Maybe they let you leave. She is sick?”
She lies. “Yes. Yes, she’s sick.”
“You try. They threaten to–” He makes a gun with his fingers and pulls an imaginary trigger.
“To shoot you?”
“Si. This,” he jabs a thumb back at the lorry, “is not worth my life. I park up and sleep.”
He turns and strides back to his cab, slamming the door as another car pulls up. Two cars now stand behind the ambulance. She approaches the lights. A soldier steps forwards, his gun trained on her. “Halt!”
A metallic thump follows his order. He looks beyond her shoulder, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes. The thump seems to be coming from the lorry. Perhaps the driver relieving his anger. She takes another step forward.
“Halt!” The soldier’s voice is sterner now.
Ellie stops, holds up her hands. “I’ve got a sick child in the ambulance. I have to get her to hospital. Let me pass please.”
The soldier stares straight at her, his gaze implacable. “Get back into your vehicle. This road is closed.”
“But I have to get her to hospital.” The soldier doesn’t look much older than her younger brother Harry, not
long out of high school—just a kid.
“Get back into your vehicle,” the kid demands. “We have orders-”
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The noise cuts through the kid’s words, matches the beat of Ellies heart. She takes a quick glance back to the lorry; it shifts, seems to sway. She blinks. She’s tired. Her eyes must be playing tricks. The driver jumps from his cab, crowbar in hand, and strides to the back of the truck. She turns back to the solider as more armed personnel appear, each carrying a tubular barrier. They slot them into the weights already placed across the road.
Awareness sinks in. “You’re trapping us in here, aren’t you!” The soldier only stares beyond her to the lorry driver.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
She pushes on as he continues to stare over her shoulder. “The driver was right. This is a quarantine isn’t it!”
She takes a step forward and prods his shoulder with a manicured finger. “Shouldn’t the army be helping to evacuate people?”
He frowns, gives her a cursory glance, then raises his gun. She steps back, raising her hands.
“Get back to your vehicle!”
“No. I need to get through. I have a girl who-”
He pulls the gun against his shoulder. “Get back to your vehicle. Now!”
His shoulder jerks as he fires the gun. Ellie screams, and a piercing shriek breaks through the chugging of engines, and the soldier’s shouted commands. Feet thud. An engine revs, and the screech of tyres is followed by a crunch as the car behind the ambulance shunts into the car at its rear. A figure jumps from the top of the lorry’s container onto the road, followed by another. Gears crunch. The car shunts forwards. The soldier fires, the bullet whistling close to Ellie’s ear. She screams and turns as two men pelt towards her. More gunfire. The first jerks back, then falls. In the next seconds the other staggers as shouts from the soldiers mingle with its shrieks and bullets fire into its flesh. Men stream from the back of the lorry.
Sprinting to the ambulance, she grabs for the door as a man jumps on the bonnet of the car behind. She starts the engine, and stalls it. A thud on the roof and the ambulance rocks. With a shaking hand, she turns the key - take it easy, slowly does it, ease the clutch – and the ambulance mounts the central reservation to the harsh chorus of gunfire.
Mortal Skies Omnibus Page 8
