Light At The End | Book 2 | Light To Dark

by Benson, Tom

  “Talking of personal tragedies, Bill.” Tracey gazed at him. “You and Fiona—”

  “Hello Control, this is Flint, over.”

  Tracey handed Bill the handset. “Go on; I know you want to.”

  Bill grinned. “Control, over.”

  “Hi, Bill. I apologise for being ten minutes overdue, but my leader up here wanted to take a rest because he’s so unfit.” Flint sounded elated to be on the outside of the mountain and climbing. “No, seriously, it’s been tough in some areas, but that’s a good sign we believe. It means that if it’s wild up here, then it’s healthy, over.”

  “Good news, mate, but don’t put yourselves in danger to reach the summit, over.”

  “We’ll be good to go again in five minutes. Sandy oriented the map easily and pencilled-in a few physical amendments already, over.”

  “Okay, mate, understood. We can leave the details until debriefing, over.”

  “Will call again from the peak, over.”

  “Roger that—safety first, over.”

  “Roger, out.”

  Tracey took the handset and hung it up. “You wish you were up there with them, don’t you.”

  Bill grinned. “I’ll see you in about an hour.” Tracey’s laughter echoed around the Control Room.

  Marie Stokes had been a furniture designer in her younger days. With a need to express herself more, she became what she referred to as a homemaker, but not in the sense that some would use the word. To most people being a homemaker meant having a partner and bringing up a family in a sheltered environment like a house or apartment. For Marie, it meant physically designing and building the home room by room.

  A natural flair for design, coupled with an appreciation of how to utilise enclosed spaces had led to her learning a variety of architectural skills. What had once been an interest and hobby soon became a cottage industry for her. In pre-apocalypse days when armed with her digital tablet and an idea of what the homeowner would like done, Marie could rapidly produce plans. She could reduce a four-room house to a spacious three-room, or she would create a workable extension. Her designs would not require the skillset of several professionals.

  “Hi, Marie.” Bill approached the table where the woman already had pencils and a large sheet of paper to work on. “Fiona said she’d given you a heads-up about my ideas.”

  “I like them, and I’ve been playing around with a few possibilities.”

  Bill sat to Marie’s left so that she could continue working and indicating parts of her design. “I thought roofing materials would be a concern, but I was pretty confident that you’d come up with a solution.”

  “Roofing for a regular cottage style out in the open would be easy enough. I reckon we have the skills between us to learn how to make a workable thatch. As you’ll see from these drawings, the idea of the house built into the hillside gives us several options.”

  “Go on.” Bill smiled as he admired early sketches Marie had produced with only the vaguest idea of what he’d suggested.

  “I’d reckon that the independent building out on a flat surface will need strong foundations, solidly built walls, a natural roof and sufficient guttering and drainage in every respect. For example, there’s no point in building a beautiful little cottage down there on the flat land one hundred metres from Loch Awe, and when rainfall hits, it floods the place from above and below.”

  “Okay, I can see that, so are there advantages to opting for building into the hillside?”

  “If we were to apply ourselves and have a team of maybe four or five of us thrashing out the problems, I reckon we could produce something functional and comfortable.” Marie’s pencil strokes were rapid, and within a few minutes, she’d produced on paper the type of abode that Bill had envisaged. “Okay, it looks pretty if you can imagine it built into the lower mountainside, so was that the type of thing you had in mind?”

  “That is exactly what I had in mind, Marie.”

  “Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll make a more detailed drawing so that our team of critics can point out where they think it could go wrong.”

  “How would you suggest we pick the right people to critique the design?”

  “I’ll get some casual feedback on my drawings, and then at the next briefing, we ask for four people who feel that they have something to offer. I’d expect Craig to come forward because he’s still got a hint of the critic about him. I’m sure we’ll get there quickly once we’ve had a few discussions over design and building materials. We can also go down the hill and look at possible locations.” She paused. “Now, let’s talk about functionality to expand these first sketches.”

  Bill found it inspiring to chat with Marie and watch her work without reference to anything except his suggestions combined with her imagination and experience.

  “Hello again, Bill,” Tracey said. “The guys ought to be calling anytime now.”

  “What’s that you’re reading?”

  “It’s one of the old manuals on the servicing and maintenance of a transformer. As you know, we’ve got manuals on sub-stations and all the other minor installations used in the system. If we’re ever to go beyond using the power within this plant, we’ll need to know what to look for and how to get it working again.”

  “I agree, and I’ve been reading those manuals on shift. I’m—”

  “Hello Control, this is Flint, over.”

  “Hello Flint, it’s Bill, mate—you’re about ten minutes early. How is it looking, over.”

  “We’re on the peak of Auchcarn, and as we expected, there is good news and bad, over.”

  “Go on, mate, over.”

  “The good news is that the two big gaps in the dark cloud might not have joined yet, but we can see that the land is looking good north from here across most if not all of the Cairngorms National Park. We’ve double-checked the coordinates, and the bad news is that Loch Awe has expanded massively in all directions. At least eight villages no longer exist around the loch’s perimeter, over.”

  “Roger that,” Bill said. “It sounds like the worst-case scenario, but it was one we’d considered. Are you two guys okay, over.”

  “Yeah, mate. We’ll get underway with the second part of our mission now, over.”

  “Take care of each other, and we’ll see you sometime tomorrow, out.”

  7 - Mapping and Memories

  The two soldiers stood on the summit of Auchcarn, partially sheltered from the breeze by the sizeable concrete triangulation point built onto the peak. Triangulation, or ‘Trig Points’ had for years featured atop most mountains or high hills. In some cases, there was no more than a small metal plate bolted onto the summit. Both men had binoculars raised to their eyes as they surveyed what was left of this part of western Scotland.

  “I don’t know about you, mate,” Sandy said, “I think we ought to have a bite to eat and a drink before looking for a good route down.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Flint said as he pulled off his backpack.

  Five minutes later, they were drinking water and munching protein bars.

  Flint said, “Have you seen Ramona and Alan making these things?”

  “Yeah, she cuts the fruit and vegetables into small chips, adds the nuts and then mixes everything in honey before leaving it all to set and cut into bars. It’s damn impressive when you think it’s all done by hand.”

  “I wondered where the nuts came from, but apparently Harry had a load of seeds in his stash on the old train and among the stuff he had were peanut seeds. There were so many seeds he’d kept to experiment with growing things in his train carriages.”

  “Like the grapes which seem to love the glass corridor, although there are plans to grow vines out on the mountainside. The planting time will be late in the year, but we’ll be doing a lot of the preparation early.”

  “What sort of preparation?”

  “Turning the earth and the setting up of lines of straight canes or whatever wooden poles we can make. They’ll be e
rected in long lines down the hillside because it’s south-facing.”

  For a short while, the two men took their mind off the destruction in the far distance. They talked about the good things closer to their location. Like the others, they had survived and were both prepared to make every effort to improve life for the Auchcarn community.

  “Are you ready, Flint?”

  “Good to go, mate.” Flint pulled on the straps of his backpack until it was comfortable. “Are we going zig-zag and aiming for the forest halfway down?”

  “Yeah, I reckon that’s the most logical route, and once we reach the trees, we’ll see if there is a natural route to continue to the base of the mountain.”

  “It’s strange to think that the loch has claimed so much of the land in every direction.”

  “Yeah, and it’s an inland waterway, so we can only imagine what happened on the sea coasts around the country.”

  “To be honest, Sandy, I don’t think I want to imagine the coasts.”

  “Okay, buddy, let’s save some breath and get on with this descent.”

  Two hours from the summit the pair sat under a lone tree and enjoyed an apple, orange and more water. It was easier to assess the best route, having seen the lay of the land from so high up. After their short break, they set off on a less circuitous path as they headed for the more dense forest below.

  Flint said, “I reckon Victoria would love it over this side of the mountain.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. The variety of flowers is incredible, and they’re doing well, judging by the insects in attendance.”

  It was another hour before Sandy and Flint arrived on the northern edge of the forest. There was a sense of peace and calm with only rustling leaves in the slight breeze and bird calls to break the silence.

  Sandy whispered, “We don’t know what might be in here so from now until we get to the edge of the loch … silent patrol routine.” He unslung his laser rifle to carry it ready for use.

  As Flint unslung his rifle, he nodded instead of giving an oral reply.

  Sandy grinned before setting off. If unseen, it would have been challenging to know that the two men were in the woodland, such was their stealth. As they moved, they did so like wild animals, being careful not to rush ahead smashing branches and stepping on dried twigs. Yes, it was tiring and time-consuming, but both soldiers felt at home once more, moving tactically in a natural environment.

  Thirty minutes into the forest, the pair remained separated by no more than three paces.

  Sandy paused, turned and used two fingers of his left hand to indicate his eyes and then made a circular motion with his hand. When Flint nodded and began to survey the woodland and undergrowth around them Sandy crouched to inspect animal prints in one of the rare patches of bare earth. He stood and briefly formed a claw with the fingers of his left hand before moving on.

  Flint nodded to acknowledge the agreed signal. Four fingers held vertical above the head would indicate deer, a clawed hand was a wolf, and a clawed hand pawing the air was a big cat. The only concern for them now was that the wolf might be a lone male. If there were a pack of wolves, the numbers would be difficult to estimate in dense woodland. Strangely, their concern was not about facing a wild animal but being compelled to fend it off without killing.

  The pair arrived at a clearing where a small stream of crystal clear water flowed. They both enjoyed sips of water and then topped up their bottles.

  Flint said, “Do you think that wolf track we saw was a loner?”

  “Yes, mate because unless they were hunting, a pack would more than likely run in single file. There would almost certainly be some overlap of prints.”

  “I saw a few deer prints as we left the edge of the forest so maybe that’s what our big furry friend was looking for.”

  “It’s a possibility—even lone wolves have to eat. Talking of which, are we still good to leave food until we’re ready to camp for the night?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine for ages yet. Do you want to inspect part of the loch coastline before we settle?”

  “Yes,” Sandy said, “I’d also like to locate what used to be the tourist route, although we know some of it is under water now.”

  “There are those three villages we should have been able to see from above. On the map, they look like a safe distance away, but they aren’t there?”

  “We should have Lochawe, on the west bank, Dalmally a couple of miles away, and over a road bridge to the northeast should be Stronmilchen.”

  “The area didn’t look good from up top, so hopefully we just missed seeing buildings.”

  Both men were hoping against hope for anything to have survived, but they owed themselves the opportunity to look.

  When they set off once again, it was mainly open grassland with the northern tail of Loch Awe on the right. What should have been a narrow stretch of the loch with a road running alongside was no longer the case. They arrived at a narrow, overgrown tarmac road which made it easier to keep a steady pace. The soldiers didn’t need a map to tell them that the road they should have been able to walk along was a few hundred metres to their right and under water.

  Sandy paused for a few seconds and looked at the slightly rippling surface.

  Flint came alongside and pointed east across the water. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

  “It’s the top part of a church steeple, mate. Judging by the contours on the map, Lochawe village wasn’t only flooded, it sunk a few metres as well so it must have been the seismic activity that caused some of this.”

  “What about Dalmally—isn’t that one of the other local places?”

  Sandy raised his binoculars and focused to the east across the vast loch. “Dalmally should be three miles to the east, and it’s not there.”

  “Are we gonna check out Stronmilchen?”

  “Yes, there should be a rail bridge and a road bridge not too far along here. We’ll use whatever is standing.”

  Half an hour later, the men arrived at the point where the foundations of the railway bridge had given way. The structure had slipped from both banks towards the swollen waters of Loch Awe. The land-based supports leant forward but the central section of the rail bridge had collapsed and was submerged. The road bridge wasn’t much farther along and didn’t look promising, although it was still above water.

  “What do you say, mate?” Sandy said. “It wouldn’t take a car anymore but we ought to be able to walk across?”

  “Yeah, if it’s stood for a couple of years we should be okay.”

  Up close, the road bridge didn’t look as stable as it did at a distance. Long cracks were evident from one side of the structure to the other, but it ought to take the weight of two human bodies. Halfway across on one of the larger areas of sound concrete, Sandy pointed at a pile of faeces.

  “Wolf?” Flint asked.

  “Either that or there is one bloody big dog still around here. It could be from the same animal which made the tracks we saw earlier—a loner will still command a large territory, or possibly he’s on the lookout for a mate.”

  “Well, I hope he finds one, and she distracts him while we’re around here.”

  Sandy laughed briefly, but aloud for the first time in a long while as they continued carefully to the far side of the bridge.

  Ten minutes along the road from the bridge, they stopped and looked around. The roadway dipped, but as it continued east, it was slightly higher than the water level of Loch Awe.

  Sandy pointed to the right. “Those roofs you can see under the surface are the only sign that Dalmally was here.”

  Flint was already looking across to the other side of the valley. The northern end of the loch now dominated the area. “And I suppose those pointed sections poking up over there are the highest building of Stronmilchen.”

  “I think we ought to go back across that bridge and find somewhere to eat and shack up for the night.”

  “Yeah, let’s do that, this area has suddenly
become fucking depressing.”

  When back on the west side of the bridge, Sandy and Flint kept their eyes peeled for animal tracks as they climbed up into the woodland to be away from the nearest stream. A stream or river would be nature’s running water for wildlife, so it was better not to make camp too close.

  While Flint built a small campfire and baked a selection of vegetables on top, Sandy set up both of their capes in an overlapping formation to make a sleeping shelter. They’d agreed that the ground was firm and dry enough to sleep on instead of using their hammocks.

  Flint tended to the two metal mess tins on the fire. He watched with amusement as Sandy uncoiled a fishing line up and down at various heights on the trees to provide a perimeter around their small campsite.

  “How’s the meal coming along?” Sandy said when he came to sit opposite his friend.

  “Five more minutes and we’ll have a decent bellyful of food. If you fix up some water in your tins, we can heat it for a brew afterwards.”

  Sandy half-filled a mess tin with water and inverted the other one over the top to prevent loss of heat. He placed the brewing water on top of the tins already on the fire. “When we’ve dealt with ablutions, and we’re ready to bed down I’ll hang the mess tins at four places around our perimeter. A set of utensils hanging alongside will be sufficient as an intruder alarm.”

  Flint said, “Is it wrong for me to be getting some enjoyment from this scenario?”

  “No, mate. I was thinking about it as I was setting up the shelter. I reckon we just recall better times.”

  “In those better times, we’d have been deciding on timings for sentries.”

  “Well, the only thing we need any warning about now is the big bad wolf or anything similar.”

  Flint laughed. “Ready to eat?” Sandy raised the pair of tins containing the heating water, and Flint lifted the tins containing their separate, identical meals. Sandy replaced the water for the brew.

  For a few minutes, the pair fell silent as they tucked into their meal, and then they washed it all down with herb tea.