Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2)

by Ian Chapman

  Up ahead a vehicle appeared, a dot on the horizon. It came towards the Eblis, initially fast then slowing down before turning off into a side road. By the size and speed it moved it was a car, traders more than likely. The side roads round here didn’t go anywhere so it probably ducked off to avoid us. Not a bad move considering what the tank was armed with. And the size of it. It was quite a sight on the open road.

  We cracked along at a fair pace, hitting forty on the straights. The bike thudded up through the gears with a nice loud blast from the exhaust. From the tank there was the rumble of its tracks with the occasional squeak from a dry link. Not much of an engine sound. My guess was it had a fuel cell. Either that or some kind of noise suppression system. Something they’d tried on the last few models they’d made. The old-world’s last gasp.

  The big questions were when, and where, I headed off.

  Once we stopped I’d quiz them about their intended location. This amazing place they were aiming for. I wasn't interested in going there, just the route. Once I had the details I could work out where I when I was planning to take my leave. With the cash I had there'd be opportunities in the right town. I had plenty of options.

  As we came to a crossroad the tank swung sharp to the left, onto a B road. Smaller and slower than the one we’d been on. Was this some plan or were they lost? Either way I followed them. The Eblis rocked back and forth on the potholed surface. I steered round the chewed up tarmac and chunks of road.

  We bounced along for miles with nothing else on the road. We were onto the low moors, dotted with the odd birch and blackened sections of heather. Where the dried out vegetation had caught light in the summer. We were heading west now rather than north; if this was their route to Scotland it would take forever. Maybe they really were lost. After all, Casper had blundered through town when he’d meant to go round it. But Becky was with him now and she knew what she was doing. Appeared to, at least.

  We passed a lorry stripped down in a field. There was only the chassis and a few panels left to rot. A chewed up tyre and some busted glass. The sun was low under the clouds and lit the scrap vehicle a dull gold.

  Whatever I thought of Casper and Becky, we had made it. We were away from Faeston and Round Up. Away from Sophie. I didn’t want to think about Sophie.

  We carried on along the track for some time, alongside the parched moors with its stunted trees. As the sun dipped ahead of us onto thick woodland in the distance.

  Then the Eblis turned right onto another road, a rough track of gravel and dried earth. We twisted past low hummocks and came upon dense woodland, the eastern edge of the Border Forest.

  This was the right way but it was too small a road to make any headway. Were they planning to stop off? I was keen to push on. Put some miles between us and Nico’s gang. Then again, the light was fading. And we’d be well hidden here.

  As the sun disappeared behind the trees we pitched across the rough ground, snaking our way between the rows of conifers, their sparsely leafed branches casting deep shadows. After some minutes the tank slowed and pulled into a large clearing. The ground was covered with dead branches and many of the trees were brown and leafless. Some had fallen or leant uprooted. There was a dark pool over to the far side.

  The Eblis stopped and I pulled the Scrambler up at its side, killing the engine. There was a pop as it backfired. Then silence. Maybe a trickle from a stream way off. Casper clanged the hatch open and climbed out. As he stood on the bulkhead Becky joined him.

  I stayed on the bike as they surveyed where we were. On every side there was thick woodland. The track we’d come down disappeared off at an angle so we couldn’t be seen from the road. A crow cawed from the undergrowth then flapped off.

  I got off the Scrambler and checked it over. There was a slight oil leak from the crankcase. I dipped my finger in the amber drops. Felt the heat. Then I tapped the fuel tank, heard the low ping. I’d need to think about refuelling somewhere. There was a reasonable amount of Faeston bio-eth in there but only enough to get me up to Edinburgh. Nowhere near the Highlands.

  The Eblis would need some more juice as well, whatever it ran on. Fuel-cells needed fuel.

  Becky came over. ‘We made it.’

  ‘Yep, so far.’

  ‘We’re well hidden here, if anyone’s following us.’

  ‘If anyone survived.’

  ‘You bothered?’

  ‘Not at all. Just keen to get away. Anyway, what’s your plan?’

  ‘Overnight here. Head off first thing. That work for you?’

  ‘Fine.’

  She moved closer to me. ‘Listen, Trent —’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I just…I don’t know…’

  We stood there without speaking. As a breeze rattled the branches.

  ‘I need to go take a leak,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, okay.’

  I left her standing by my bike and went over into the trees. The twigs crunched under my feet and light filtered down through the branches. Becky was still by the bike but she went back to the tank after a minute. There was no sign of Casper. I guessed he was sniffing around somewhere.

  Afterwards I went over to the pond, cupping my hands in it, rubbing them together. The water was cool and peaty.

  ‘I wouldn’t drink that,’ said Becky.

  ‘I didn’t plan to.’

  She had a bag with her and slid out a pan, putting it to one side. ‘Trent, I appreciate what you did back then, back at Round Up’s building —’

  ‘It’s fine. I’m pleased to be away.’

  ‘Well, thanks.’ She gave me a smile then put her hand on my arm. Just held it there. After a moment she moved away and started to gather wood, putting a fire together. Casper was over by the far side of the pond, wandering around, staring at the ground, like he’d lost something.

  I waited to see if she said anything else. When she didn’t I shouldered my bag and wandered off, round the pond, following the stream that fed it. It led me into the trees, over ground thick with leaf litter. I walked for some time, through tightly packed birch and pines, until I came to a small waterfall that ran into a deep pool. The ground was flat at the sides with sparse tree cover, letting in the evening light. I went over to the water’s edge and sat on a log, peeling bark off until I found some grubs. I picked two of them up and laid them on my leg, feeling around in my bag. I found a hook and line, something I always had with me when I was on the road, and threaded the biggest grub onto it. It squirmed and jerked as I lowered it into the water, easing the line out.

  I sat there as the woods grew darker and the line hung limp in the water. Birds shifted in the undergrowth and something ran up a tree behind me. The pond was dark, black, rippling with the flow from the waterfall. I could see myself staring out of it, twisted out of shape.

  I reached into the bag and brought out the Gehenna stuff laying it out beside me. I opened it and tilted it to catch what light there was, going over the line drawing of the submarine, all its decks and sections, tracking it with my finger again and again.

  I put it back into the bag and watched myself from the water. Becky and Casper were some pair. There was something strange about them but it was hard to pin down. He was cold. Unfriendly. But I’d met plenty of fellas like him. And she ran hot and cold. Chatty then distant. I’d have to keep an eye on them. Still, compared to Nico, Gregg and Will they were lovely.

  The woods darkened around me.

  The line twitched. It pulled again. I lifted it up and there was a small trout on it. The fish flicked its tail and I threw it onto the ground. It gasped and stared up at me as I watched it die. It was tempting to grab it and throw it back into the water, show some mercy. But we needed to eat and this was the main course.

  I carried it back, limp on the hook. The woods were dark and I picked my way over tree trunks, branches and loose stones, heading towards the tank.

  When I lost the stream I stopped. It’d be easy to wander off here, carry on into the woods an
d end up on the wrong side. Alone in the dark. To walk on and on, away from the Eblis, Becky and Casper.

  I flicked my lighter on and the trees and ground appeared around me, all looking the same. There was no sign of the stream or anything else that would help. I walked straight ahead for several yards then stopped and turned back. There were trunks that vanished off into the distance, pine needles everywhere.

  Then there was a laugh from my right, a low chuckle way off. It had to be Casper. I headed towards the sound as he laughed again.

  I emerged close to where I’d come into the trees. Becky and Casper sat by a fire eating. When I joined them she thrust a plate at me with beans and sausages on it.

  ‘Where did this come from?’ I said.

  ‘We stashed it some time ago. Ready for this,’ said Casper. Empty tins lay at his feet.

  I sat down and dug into the food, setting the fish beside me. The beans tasted good. I’d not eaten for hours and hadn’t even realised I was hungry. I shovelled it in.

  Once I’d finished I gutted the fish and hung it above the flames. Becky heated water in the pan making dandelion tea. Casper just gazed into the fire, his bruised face a flickering pattern from the flames.

  ‘Tell me about the place you’re heading to,’ I said.

  For a moment Becky and Casper just looked at each other.

  Then she spoke. ‘It’s called Arcadia.’

  ‘Arcadia?’

  Casper grunted. ‘That’s its name. Place we’re going to.’ He reached into the bag at Becky’s side and pulled out the maps. He jabbed at a patch of blue on the edge of one. ‘Here.’

  Becky moved round to let me nearer. It was hard to see much in the firelight.

  ‘Up on the coast,’ she said. ‘On the edges of Loch Fyne.’ As she said it she glanced across at Casper. Something passed between them but it was hard to work out what it was.

  ‘Right,’ I said.

  ‘It’s only a couple of hundred miles, maybe a little more. It should take another couple of days depending on what route we take.’

  ‘Probably go up through the Lowlands,’ said Casper. ‘Head west. Not sure exactly.’ He flapped his hand around the map but didn’t really point to a specific road.

  I didn’t like his answer but didn’t want to push it. Not yet.

  ‘We’ll go on back roads,’ she said. ‘We can’t outrun your…we can’t outrun the people from Round Up. I know they have cars, fast ones, but they can’t go cross country. We’ve enough armour to survive anything reivers throw at us but I’d guess Round Up have some serious kit.’

  Casper grunted at this. That was true. Nico had put some time into building up his arsenal. He’d soon pulled out that rocket-launcher the other day. God knows what else he had. If he was still around.

  ‘And what happens when we get there?’ I said.

  Casper looked at Becky then she spoke, her face a pattern of rippling shadows from the fire. ‘We make contact, show we’re decent people…’ She went into her bag and pulled out a glass bottle. Easing the stopper out she drank from it before wiping her mouth on her sleeve. ‘Then we’ll neutralise Eblis, dump it somewhere out of the way.’

  ‘I see.’

  She offered me the bottle. It was vodka of some type. Rough and strong. After a drink I made a joint from some grass I’d brought in my bag. The woods were quiet and the fire had died down to several logs. I lit the spliff, drew on it then passed it on to them. We smoked in silence for a few minutes.

  I felt ready to probe them a little more. ‘Where did you get the tank from?’

  They looked at one another, said nothing for a moment. There was a scuffling noise from a tree behind us, then silence.

  ‘It was in storage,’ said Becky. Casper nodded and she continued. ‘An old army base near Birmingham. Hidden in a bunker behind a warehouse. We noticed a ventilation shaft to it. Took some getting out. At least the manuals were hidden nearby otherwise we’d never have got in.’

  Casper picked a twig up and threw it into the fire. It landed on the bright embers and flared up. Burnt away to nothing. Becky didn’t seem keen to say any more.

  For a moment we sat without speaking.

  Then I stood up. ‘I’ll get some more wood.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Becky.

  I stepped away from the fire and wandered off into the shadows. Gathering up branches I moved further away, watching them. They were leant forward, heads close together. All that stuff about Arcadia sounded half-baked. I couldn’t believe they hadn’t worked a route out. They were up to something but it was hard to say what. I’d play along for the ride but keep my wits about me. Watch my back.

  I picked up sticks and returned to the fire.

  When I got back they were rolling their bedding out.

  ‘Early start,’ said Becky.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, chucking the logs onto the fire. They hissed as the damp steamed out. Casper straightened his sleeping bag, sat on it and stared at the burning wood.

  I set out mine, thinking of the times I’d done this before. Travelling with others: Jamie and Lawson. People I’d trusted.

  Becky said good night and Casper muttered something, both of them slipping into their bedding, turned away from me. I sat by the fire, as it spluttered and flared up.

  Then I lay down, stared into the clear sky at the stars. As shadows flickered across the clearing I drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Pleasure Town

  WHEN I AWOKE BECKY was next to my bag. She saw me and moved over to the fire and stacked it up with logs. There was a pan of water at her side. ‘Sleep well?’ she said.

  ‘Fine,’ I said, though I’d slept shallow for most of it, dreaming of movement in the woods as the fire cracked and popped into the early hours.

  I slid out of my sleeping bag and stretched. There was thin cloud and the trees cast soft shadows across the clearing. ‘Where’s Casper?’ His sleeping bag was folded but there was no sign of him.

  ‘He’s gone off to get some drier wood.’ She arranged twigs in the white-edged embers. ‘Look, Trent, he’s not at his best…He’s had a rough few weeks with the journey here and Round Up.’

  ‘I know.’ I knew he’d been kicked around. I knew that I didn’t trust him.

  The twigs caught fire and flared up so she added several larger sticks which she snapped first. I knelt beside her and helped. She smelled of wood smoke and dandelion tea. We added sticks for some time, breaking and dropping them onto the growing pile.

  She stopped and put her hand on mine. ‘Trent...’

  ‘Yes?’

  She turned towards me, her eyes soft. Then she kissed me, straight on the lips but with her mouth tight, eyes open.

  Pulling away she gripped my hand. ‘Casper can get very protective, so…’

  ‘So?’

  She slid her hand free, stood and snapped a branch over her knee, keeping me in her gaze. I helped her set up the fire but didn’t say anything else.

  Casper joined us carrying a pile of dry wood. We made small talk about the weather and how we’d slept. Nothing about Round-Up or leaving town. We stacked the fire before warming tinned sausage and boiling water for tea. As we ate and drank Becky checked the map and Casper stared off into the woods. He’d not said more than a dozen words since we’d left town. Part of it must have been what had happened to him. Being locked in that room alone for days wouldn’t have been much fun with Nico dropping in to administer punishment now and then. Gregg keeping him awake all night. Me quizzing him.

  When Becky went off to the Eblis, Casper started packing his bag. I approached him. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Doing?’

  ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ He carried on stuffing his ripped sleeping bags into the rucksack.

  ‘I know what Nico and Gregg can be like.’

  Looking up at me he exhaled slowly. For a moment he didn’t move. We were eye to eye. Then he inhaled and carried on packing the
bag. ‘Yeah, well, I’m out of there.’

  When he didn’t say any more I stashed my own gear.

  Becky came back and packed her stuff, saying how it looked like a nice day and we’d picked a good spot to stop. Chit-chat that I gave short answers to. And Casper ignored. Once everything was away they laid out the map. Becky suggested routes, all back roads, adding to the distance and limiting the speed we could go, but she had a point. If anyone from Round Up had survived they would be in the town’s fastest machines: the Jag and Audi A6. Nico’s Range Rover. They’d have commandeered every drop of bio-eth available and be out racing after us. The Eblis was better armed but they could dig up a few nasty weapons. There was a chance that Casper had blown some of them to pieces but the weapons were stored at the far end of Round Up Central, where the walls were thickest.

  The planned route looked easy enough. There was no easy way through the Lowlands so Becky suggested we skirt Edinburgh. Seemed as good a choice as any. Maybe I’d jump off after that. See what the southern end of the Highlands had to offer. I’d not been up there for since The Collapse.

  ‘Should we head off?’ said Becky.

  ‘Suits me,’ I said.

  Casper just grabbed up his bag and went to the tank.

  I wheeled the bike alongside. We’d not talked about fuel stops. Casper and Becky slid their bags into the tank.

  ‘Where are we going to get juice?’ I said.

  ‘Juice?’ said Casper.

  ‘Fuel.’

  He laughed but Becky gave me a serious look. ‘We don’t need to refuel,’ she said. ‘Didn’t Round Up tell you?’

  ‘Seems not.’

  She patted the vehicle on the back, near the air vents. ‘This was a prototype, the last gasp of the old world.’