by Ian Chapman
‘It’s been on us for ages. Pacing us.’
‘What’s that?’ said Becky.
‘Trent’s jumpy,’ said Casper. ‘Thinks we’re being followed.’
She looked at her screen for the best part of a minute. Then she pushed the levers forward. Picked up the pace. The car matched us. Then she slowed right down and so did it. ‘Think you’re right, Trent.’
Casper said nothing.
‘Can we hit them?’
Casper checked his sights. Took a deep breath. ‘Possibly. Not clearly from this range. Not while we’re moving. We could stop. Blow them away.’
‘Maybe.’ But they were probably armed as well. They’d see us slow and be ready. What we needed to do was catch them out. They wouldn’t know about us being able to zoom in on the monitors so they’d probably assume we hadn’t seen them. ‘We need to pull off somewhere. Get behind them. Hit them when they’re not expecting it.’
Casper raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds reasonable.’
Becky agreed and Daniel just looked worried. I told him there were more bad men but it would be all right. We’d keep him safe.
We continued on for a little while. The road was straight with nowhere to hide. The car was still on our tail. Still pacing us.
Then we descended a steep curve with patches of trees along the roadside. Becky let the Eblis pick up speed. Once we were over the brow and out of their vision she swung it down onto the verge. Off to the left. The Eblis slid, its weight resisting the turn, as we charged into the foliage. Branches slapped on the hull and we pitched and rocked as she steered it through the undergrowth, stopping us behind some straggly trees. Casper turned the turret to face the road.
We waited.
Maybe the camouflage would fool them. But how could they not spot our huge bulk behind the trees? Or the track marks on the road?
They’d be on us before we had time to aim, time to fire back.
The seconds passed and there was no sign of the car.
Then it came past. It seemed to slow then accelerated up the road. The Jaguar disappeared out of view.
Becky reversed, twisting the Eblis round to face after them. Casper worked on the turret and sights, setting it up on the car as it raced off.
He fired. The sound filled the tank and the Jaguar disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
For a few seconds the vehicle reverberated with the blast. Casper was up close to his monitor. He stared into it and chewed his nails. Daniel rocked in his seat. This wasn’t a great experience for him. All I could see on mine were clouds of dust.
‘Think we’ve got it,’ said Casper.
Becky drove off the verge and back onto the road. The tank’s tracks rattled up the tarmac as we headed to where the smoke was settling. As the air cleared we could see the damage the shell had done: there was a hole punched in the road, debris scattered round it. Chunks of dry clay, gravel and tarmac. The Jaguar was half in the crater, intact but badly smashed up. Slewed to the side from its attempt to steer out of the way.
We stopped next to it and Casper clambered out first, a gun in his hand.
‘Are you all right?’ I said to Daniel. Sunlight and dusty air came in through the open hatch.
‘Yep,’ he said. His face was red and there were tears on his cheeks. I helped him out and we were followed by Becky.
The car lay on its left-hand side, the front end pushed back almost a metre and the bonnet buckled up. Will was wedged in the front windscreen, his arms splayed out and head twisted back. The glass was cracked and blood stained his face and the dashboard. His eyes were open but they were as dead as he was.
Gregg was still in his seat, flopped against the driver’s door covered with blood. His eyes were shut but he moaned and moved around.
‘What should we do with him?’ said Becky.
Casper brandished his pistol. ‘We can see him off, like his mates.’
‘Like you did with Nico?’
He squared up to me. ‘That’s right. You got a problem with that?’
Actually, in this case I didn’t. It was one thing shooting someone in the back and something else putting an injured man out of his misery. I reached my hand out towards the gun. ‘No. I’ll do it.’
‘Really?’ Casper’s face slackened but he still held onto his pistol.
‘Yeah.’
Daniel started to whine, a high pitched sound.
Becky put a hand on each of our shoulders. ‘Not in front of Daniel. Just leave him.’
‘You kidding?’ said Casper.
‘He’ll die.’
Casper still had hold of the gun but it was aimed down.
Daniel squeezed past us and went to the wrecked car. He knelt beside Will and said a prayer. The he came round to Gregg’s side and muttered something as he held his hand.
We left Will’s body and Gregg in the car. Daniel walked with me, his shoulders slumped and brow furrowed. Maybe he’d wanted to bury Will. Care for Gregg. But we didn’t have time for all that.
Before getting in I checked on my bike at the back of the Eblis. It had some fragments of stone on it but otherwise looked fine.
I climbed the turret and looked over at Gregg. He’d stopped moving and was slumped against the steering wheel. I’d have liked to see him finished off but Becky was right. He wasn’t going to last without help. Maybe Daniel brought out the best in all of us. With a last glance at Gregg’s still body, Will laid out, I got into Eblis.
None of us said anything as Casper shut the hatch and Becky manoeuvred the tank around the Jaguar.
Now that Round Up were gone things were going to be much easier.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Plan
WE DROVE ON FURTHER into Scotland, up through the Lowlands. Daniel hummed to himself and sometimes he put his hands over his eyes. At least he wasn’t rocking in his seat.
Becky’s voice crackled over my headphones. ‘We need to have a chat. About where we are going and stuff.’ She turned and looked at Daniel. Seemed he was the stuff.
I didn’t bother to reply. Before I could jump ship I needed juice so I was fine to coast along. Another couple of miles down the road a weatherworn sign appeared with a derelict building beyond it: a disused petrol station. Perfect.
‘Let’s stop here,’ I said. It was a long-shot that there’d be any fuel but it was worth trying.
‘Already?’ said Becky.
‘Might as well.’
Casper had nothing to add so she slowed the Eblis and pulled in. There were rocks set up to block the entrance but the tank chewed its way over the them.
We stopped in the middle of the forecourt near two stripped down vans, their doorless bodies dented and rusty. Leaves lay rotting around them and lichen gave their roofs a green fur. The building at the far side had no windows or fittings and debris lay strewn around the entrance. Only one petrol pump remained and it lay on its side beneath a bare frame that had once been the canopy.
We all got out onto the tarmac, split and punctuated by weeds that grew through decomposing leaf-litter.
Casper and Becky started talking to each other as if me and Daniel weren't within earshot, which we were. So I walked off, over to the wrecked petrol pumps, beside one that lay on its side component-less. Daniel followed me and I lay down on the ground, peered into the pipe from the broken pump that led down into the reservoir. I sniffed. It smelled of hummus and fungi. No whiff of petrol.
I ripped the cover off another pump and turned the mechanism by hand. Tried to draw up trace of fuel. For several minutes I cranked it over, the dry bearings squeaking. When I held the nozzle to my nose there was nothing. Not a hint.
So, I was stuck with them for the time being. I walked back to Becky and Casper, Daniel behind me. They were still on about routes, the best way to skirt Glasgow and get all the way up to the loch they were aiming for. She’d pulled out a map and laid it on the ground to show the inlets and roads. I got in between her and Casper, much to his annoyance. She pointed to wh
ere they were going, Loch Fyne on the west coast. From here to there is was hard to see an easy route without going past Glasgow.
‘Crossing the river is the problem,’ said Casper.
‘We could go east and avoid all that,’ said Becky.
‘That will add miles to the distance.’
‘If we aim for Stirling then swing over, we’ll be fine.’
‘There’s no guarantee that will be better.’
Becky looked at me. ‘What do you think, Trent? About Glasgow. About our route north.’
Like most cities Glasgow was a crazy place, the stories of the gangs that worked the area suggesting we’d be mad to go through. But heading east would force us to skirt Loch Lomond at the top end, putting a big loop on the journey. Then again, I knew the rumours about crossing the Clyde and the tolls that were extracted, sometimes human ones. Bridges were pinch points, as we’d found in Galashiels. ‘Head for Stirling,’ I said.
‘Still have to pass Edinburgh,’ said Casper.
‘Safer than Glasgow.’
‘Fine,’ said Becky.
Casper shrugged, indifferent.
‘What do you think?’ She was looking at Daniel.
We all turned to him. He was kicking at the chewed up car park with his hands in his pockets. ‘Yep,’ he said.
So we planned our route on the map. For now I was with them and I wanted some say in where we went. With a couple of pens we marked it out. Daniel muttered things and stood with us but didn’t have much to add. As Becky cross-checked it on bigger scale maps Casper went to scavenge for food in the building and I took Daniel aside. We chatted over by the busted petrol pumps. I wanted to know what his story was. While it was quiet I wanted to sound him out. Why we’d found him where he was and whether he was still happy to come with us: complete strangers who killed people.
I started easy. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m okay.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yep.’
‘Daniel…’
‘Yep?’
‘How did you end up where you were? On that farm?’
‘We moved there. Set up.’
‘Who?’
‘We did.’
I watched Casper dig around in the building as Becky rechecked our route. I decided to take a different approach. ‘Are you still happy to travel with us?’
‘Yep?’
‘You’re not put off?’
‘No.’
‘And where do you want to go?’ This would catch him out. Force him to think a little more.
‘Away. Away from here.’
‘Where to, though?’
He gazed around the bust-up service station, hands pushed into his pockets. Then he smiled. ‘Knew you’d come. They told me.’
This was what he’d said before but with a little extra. ‘They?’
‘You know who.’ He laughed. ‘They told me. Before they went. Told me about you.’
‘What exactly did they tell you?’
‘That men would come. Bad and good. They’d come. And they did. Seen the bad men lots of times. You’re the good one.’ He grinned at this like he’d really nailed it.
I grunted. I’d never been called a good man before. Still, there was more I needed to know. ‘Who told you this? Who are they?’ Maybe there’d been a group or family or friends. Maybe there were clues to where they’d gone.
He struggled with this. The grin disappeared and he started to rub his hands together. Like he was cold. He closed his eyes. Tilted his head back. ‘Mum. And Jack. Told me before they went…’
‘Went where?’
‘Away.’
Away where?’
‘Away. Away. Not back.’ Then he was silent, his eyes glassy.
‘Right. Thanks for answering.’ So his mother and his step-dad or brother or someone had gone off. Left him for some reason. It had happened so many times. Kids abandoned by parents to fend for themselves. Sometimes they went off to die, other times it was to search for food or water or shelter. Now and then it was because they couldn’t cope. For whatever reasons it had happened to Daniel.
He’d latched onto me because he thought I was a good man. Because I’d been kind to him and he’d been told that was what he needed to look out for. There were worse reasons to form partnerships but it was still going to be tricky. I’d have to work out where we were going. Or where I could leave him.
Casper came out of the building. He held two tins in his hands and swung them as he walked. They were dented and free of labels but one was big, the size of a shell from the Eblis’s gun. He clanged them onto the tank’s hull.
Taking out his pen knife he cut into their lids Becky grabbed pan and plates from the tank. He tipped out tomato soup from one, more orange than could be believed. The other was sliced apricots.
We warmed the soup and shared it before having several apricots each. Daniel kept close to me the whole time. At the end of the meal the pair of us walked over to a nearby stream and washed up. Daniel took the rough off the bowls and pan and I finished off.
We worked in silence in the evening light.
Once they were all cleaned we headed back.
‘Will they be there?’ he said.
‘What?’ I said.
‘When we get there. Will they?’
For a moment I walked alongside him as we held the pan and plates at our side, the sun setting on the petrol station. This could have been about the bad people or just a random thing.
When I said nothing. He tapped me. ‘Will they be there?’ He pulled his serious face. ‘When we get there. Will my Mum and Jack be there?’
I took a deep breath. ‘Maybe, Daniel, maybe.’
I carried on to the tank, Daniel moving with a lightness to him. I’d have to let him down at some point.
But not yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ring Road
WE SET OFF ON the road again, turning north at Peebles. The Eblis rumbled through the town where warehouses stood abandoned and shops derelict and empty. A car park had been turned into an encampment: tents were lined up, greens and blues. Faded shades of pink and yellow. Two old men dressed in rags stared at us as we roared by. We carried on past smart houses at the edge of the town.
Then we were back into countryside, open moorland with clumps of trees, on our way to Edinburgh. The road was quiet as the light faded. The setting sun lit the clear sky orange and gold.
Casper smiled to himself and Becky seemed relaxed at the controls. Daniel had stopped rocking and hummed. Maybe we’d all be okay. The four of us could head into the highlands and part as friends. Each go off and make some kind of a life for ourselves.
As we carried on along the road the debris started to appear out of the darkness, burnt out vehicles and busted barricades. Edinburgh had a reputation for being well organised and reasonably safe but they didn’t let strangers just wander in. And we weren’t going through the city, we were skirting the edge, where all the people who hadn’t been allowed in hung around. At the side of the road was a message, roughly painted on the side of a lorry. Edinburgh: Count Me Oot it said in distorted paint.
We drove over breeze blocks with railings tied to them.
Further on there was scaffolding on a hummock.
Becky slowed the Eblis. She flicked the spotlights on and manoeuvred to light the structure. There were two decaying bodies strapped on, naked apart from underwear and sacks over their heads. A sign hung around each of their necks, saying They Didn Pay.
This was reivers’ work. Seemed some nasty ones had set up camp on the edge of the city.
We came to a section that had steep embankments. The road had been partially blocked by massive chunks of concrete and debris, several metres high, somehow brought and dropped in. To the right was a lower section where the blocks had been blasted clear. Around us there were vans and cars. Empty and stripped. They must have got stuck here. Been picked clean. This was a bottleneck. A trap. Getting trapped here would be r
eally bad.
‘We should go back,’ I said.
‘I can get us through,’ said Becky.
‘This is a trap. Let’s go.’
‘Don’t panic, Trent,’ said Casper. ‘We’re safe in here.’
‘This is reiver territory. We should go.’
‘I can do it,’ said Becky. She steered us to the lower section of the blockade. The tank rose up and tilted backwards. It juddered and crawled over the blocks, still a metre high. We moved forward then dropped down over them. There was a thump and the Eblis fell to the right, the rumble from the tracks turning to a grinding sound.
‘We’re caught on it,’ said Becky, pushing the controls.
‘Stop!’ shouted Casper.
Becky still had her hand on the control, ramming it forward but the Eblis pitched and jerked. Casper dropped down and grabbed hold of her, pulling her away from the levers. The sound of the motors died down and the tank settled at an odd angle, tilted over.
‘I was trying to drive us over it,’ she said.
‘You’ve busted a track.’
The tank’s reactor gurgled behind us. Otherwise there was just the creak of Daniel’s chair as he rocked back and forward, his hands clasped together.
‘Can we fix it?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ Casper said. ‘But we’ll have to go out.’ He swivelled the turret and looked through the sight as me and Becky watched our screens. The tank’s headlights lit the road with long shadows from the debris. Beyond the lamps’ beams it was pitch dark. I adjusted the controls on the monitors and got it onto infrared. The embankments appeared around us in ghostly shades. There was no sign of movement. Casper grabbed a box out of a locker, dimmed the light and opened the hatch. ‘Coming?’ he said to me.
‘You all right Daniel?’ I said.
‘Yep,’ he said but he had his eyes shut and hands on his head.
Becky handed me a torch and I climbed out to join Casper at the side of the Eblis. It was dark all around us.
I held my pistol tight. There was no sound. No movement, the stripped vehicles behind us still in evening air.
