UKD2: UK Dark Series Book 2

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UKD2: UK Dark Series Book 2 Page 15

by Chris Harris


  “I’ve mentioned to Colonel Moore that I’d like to offer my services to you,” explained Chris. “If we can stretch the food we have stored for as long as possible by supplementing it with foraged food, it’ll make a big difference. I could teach the lost art of living on what nature can provide us with. I want to start with your group, then create and adapt a basic survival programme so that we can roll that out as we reach out to more and more people.”

  It made perfect sense and the benefits of what we could learn from Chris were obvious. This was clearly a skill gap that needed to be filled and the thought filled me with excitement. “Chris, it would be great if you could join us,” I said. “Will your ankle be a problem? Do you need it to heal properly before you join us?”

  He shook his head. “I’m going stir crazy trapped down here. I can’t wait to leave. I might not be up for a marathon just yet, but it’s good enough for me to hobble around on. Anyway, the boot’s due to be removed next week so I’ll be back to normal pretty soon. When are you planning to go home?”

  I looked at Jon, who replied for me. “They should be leaving tomorrow, so if you want to go to the stores and pick out whatever clothes, equipment or supplies you’ll need, I’ll authorise it.”

  Delighted, I shook Chris’s hand again and left him to get organised. My first impression of him was that he was a great bloke who would fit easily into our little community.

  “Thanks for finding him, Jon,” I said. “He should be a real asset to us.”

  Jon nodded smiling. “Yes, I’ve met him a few times now and with the skills he has, he could mean the difference between survival and starvation for a lot of people. I’ll need your opinion on what he teaches you, and whether we can realistically use it in the recovery plan. But I don’t see why not. I believe he has skills that no one else in this base has, but once again, it’s all based on theory and until we try it out we won’t know if it’s going to work.”

  Looking sombre, he said, “I don’t think I need to remind you that a lot of people will be following these plans of ours. I hope to God they work. Millions of lives will depend on our getting this right, and at the same time we need to be as quick as we can.”

  “No problem, Jon. I understand.”

  “Thanks, Tom, the next few months are going to be hectic. We need to get as much as we can in place by the end of the winter.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Talking about hectic, I’ve had a request for some more of your time to go over some further plans and ideas we’ve come up with.”

  I shrugged and said, “I’m all yours until I go back tomorrow. Could I have some time with you later though, to discuss something that Jerry and I were talking about earlier?”

  “Of course, Tom. I’m not sure when I’ll be free, but how about we catch up in the pub later?”

  He sent me off with a waiting aide to a nearby room, where Jerry and I (who by now had finished talking to the psychologist) spent the rest of the day discussing and helping to improve various plans and ideas that had been put together by a number of aides and ministers. We also met with the farmer and had a useful discussion and a quick education on the use of polytunnels. We concluded that they were definitely something we needed to build when we got back.

  We put together a plan for the next few months. The base would remain on lockdown, but we’d managed to get them to agree to contact any groups that were picked up by their reconnaissance in the local area. I argued that they would need to work with these people in the future, if they managed to survive the next few months, and pointed out that they could hardly expect any cooperation from them at a later date, if they subsequently discovered that the Government had known of their whereabouts and offered no help or contact.

  Our community would continue to patrol the local area in search of supplies. We decided against actively seeking out new groups or individuals, but if we came across them by chance, we would follow the basic rules we’d all agreed on. We would offer them help initially if they needed it, as a purely humanitarian gesture. But if they wanted to continue receiving help, they would have to agree to the recovery plan and their role in it.

  A regular convoy route between the base and our community was being planned. Although most of the soldiers would be returning to the base, we had agreed that a small force would remain within the community as observers and advisors. It would be a great opportunity for the Government’s personnel to experience the recovery plan first-hand and the regular convoys would facilitate re-supplies and the rotation of staff as and when necessary. The convoys would also allow us to offer anyone we encountered who was suitable, a place at the facility in Herefordshire, without the need to walk there.

  After dinner I got the chance to talk to Becky over the radio. The whole community was celebrating Gumin’s defeat. She explained that although they hadn’t known any of the people he’d terrorised or killed, the previous week’s attacks had left everyone on edge and feeling vulnerable. The knowledge that one of the potential threats to them had been eliminated felt like a weight being lifted off everyone’s shoulders.

  Becky told me that some of the soldiers had returned to base, but Captain Berry had remained with half of his men to help the survivors begin to rebuild their lives. She also said that every one of the community members who had accompanied the soldiers on the attack had volunteered to stay behind and help.

  It was likely that the new group of survivors would need a great deal of support to begin with. At some point the natural leaders among them would begin to emerge, and if they had the will and strength of personality to bind everyone together, then they would begin to function as an effective and cohesive group. Apparently they had enough food, so that wouldn’t be a concern, but it was likely that there would be a lot of bad feeling and resentment between the survivors over things that had happened under Gumin’s control.

  If they could all come to terms with what had taken place, then the group stood a good chance of staying together. As they were potentially only a thirty minute drive or about an hour’s bike ride away, contact could be maintained between our two communities, and support could be offered to them in the future.

  Stanley and Daisy were overjoyed to hear that I was coming home. They’d missed me very much and Becky complained that they’d both started sleeping in our bed with her and that I needed to come back, before they took up permanent residence and I was banished to one of their rooms!

  At the thought of sleeping under a “One Direction” duvet for the foreseeable future, I told them sternly not to get used to the idea of cuddling up to Mom. Then I laughed, told them I loved them and promised I would be there when they woke up the day after tomorrow. After promising Becky that I wouldn’t do anything stupid before our return, we said our goodbyes and I made my way to the “Duke of Edinburgh” to find Jerry.

  He’d already spoken to his family and was waiting there for me.

  I found him deep in conversation with Jon, so I ordered myself a pint and went over to join them. Jon turned to me. “Tom, you said you wanted to talk to me about something you and Jerry discussed earlier. I’ve tried to get it out of him but he wouldn’t spill the beans until you got here.”

  Jerry grinned. “I would have told you, but I know you hate not knowing, so I’ve been enjoying watching you squirm. Tom, can you put him out of his misery please?”

  “Certainly, Jerry. Actually Jon, it is pretty serious. Jerry and I were talking earlier and the conversation unsettled us both to be honest. It’s occurred to us that it’s now the middle of winter and the people who fled the cities and moved to the countryside will be dying in droves, or at the very least, trying to survive a miserable existence. If I were them, even if I had no food and barely enough strength to do it, I think I’d make my way back to the towns and cities.

  It would be easier to find shelter from the bad weather there.

  If that does happen, Jon, then we and all the other communities we know about, and probably countless others ar
ound the country, are going to be in serious trouble. I think we’ll be swamped by another wave of desperate people, just as the people living in the rural areas were, at the beginning of the crisis.

  “Jon, you know we’ll do everything we can to help anyone else who needs it, but our community will have to come first. I’ve said it before, if anyone’s desperate enough to take what we have by force, then we’ll be forced to defend ourselves. I suppose the point I’m getting to,” I explained, “is that if that happens, if the entire country’s hopes are resting on us as the model on which the survival plan is based, it’ll all be irrelevant if we cease to exist.”

  Leaning back, Jon looked at me. “Doesn’t your imagination ever take a rest? But as always, what you’re saying does make sense. The question I think you’re asking is: would we, (as in the British Government), allow you to be attacked and wiped out? The answer to that is NO! Don’t you remember the basic rules we discussed, just a few days ago? Let me remind you about Rule Three:

  ‘If you fight against the system, be that directly against us, or against any community or individual that is helping and contributing to our cause. You will be wiped out.’

  I stand by that rule, Tom. I’ll do everything in my power to guarantee the safety of anyone who’s agreed to help us.”

  I looked at the determination on his face and felt better. “Thank you, Jon. That means a lot. I know Allan’s put in a request for better weapons, to improve our defence capability. I suppose it’s even more important now that we’ve come across that group that attacked us. I think we’re all starting to realise that we would have been in real danger if it hadn’t been for you and your men. We can’t rely on you being there to defend us every time.”

  “Tom, if you think I’m going to start the United Kingdom’s first armed militia since they were absorbed into the British Army by the 1907 Territorial and Reserve Forces Act then you’ve got another think coming!”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to keep me quiet.

  “But if you’re asking me if I’ve been given the authority by the Head of the United Kingdom’s Armed Forces to issue restricted weaponry to a selected few people in order to assist in the recovery plan, then the answer is yes,” he added calmly. “You’ll also have the added security of the permanent force we’ve agreed to maintain at your location.”

  I began to smile and relief washed over me. “Allan will be very happy.”

  “Yes, I imagine he will be,” retorted Jon, grinning. “We’ll have to be very careful about issuing weapons to other groups, though. I know I can trust you to use them purely in defence. I’m not sure any other group will gain sufficient trust to be issued with any.”

  Jerry spoke up. “I agree with Tom. You know our views on firearms differ. It was Tom who insisted I take the weapons out of that crate you sent me and he was the one who showed me how to use them. Since then I’ve shot at and probably killed a number of people in self-defence. Those times it was the only way to save the community. So for now I agree that guns are a necessary evil. But I hope they’ll be a short-lived one.”

  Jon nodded. “For the time being, it’s going to be impossible to police the use of them, but maybe in the future, when, hopefully things are returning to normal, we can start to reintroduce a form of gun control.”

  Jerry interrupted. He was looking at me. “That’s exactly it, Tom. That look of disappointment on your face at the thought of your nice shiny machine gun being taken away from you, is why we’re going to need gun control. I’d trust you with my life and the lives of my family, but before the event you would never have considered owning a machine gun, because in our society, with its tightly controlled gun ownership, it wasn’t necessary. Now, on the other hand, we need weapons to protect ourselves. Tom, if, hopefully, in the future they’re not needed, would you be happy to hand yours back?”

  I did think about answering with the phrase, “I’ll give you my gun when you pry it from my cold, dead hands,” but thought better of it. I thanked Jon for his offer of weapons and hastily changed the subject, knowing that Jerry would probably beat any argument I put forward, because “cos I want it” didn’t exactly constitute a good argument.

  Jon told us about the equipment the engineers had requested for the convoy, to help reinforce our defences. Most of it consisted of sheets and rolls of fencing and razor wire but there were a few items that mystified us, as we couldn’t begin to identify what they were for. It was agreed that in the morning we would help load up the convoy, so that we could see what was being sent and at the same time, add any other items we thought necessary.

  We thanked him for his generosity, and he shrugged and said, “We have mountains of equipment here. A lot of it was stored according to the whim of whatever official was in charge at the time. It’s not doing anyone any good here. All right, it probably won’t last forever and maybe this is selfish, but if it’s going to be used by anyone I’d rather it was used to keep my family safe.”

  I asked if a decision had been reached about how to deal with the group at the farmhouse. “We’ve had a few ideas. The best one so far has come from Sergeant Anderson, one of the UAV operators, following yesterday’s attack. It’s quite simple really. We’ve been monitoring them since we found their location. Since they ambushed us, they’ve rarely ventured far from their base. They’re probably licking their wounds and planning their next move. If they’ve got enough supplies at their location they won’t need to stray too far.

  At night, apart from the men on guard duty, they all bunk down in the main farmhouse. Given the risks associated with launching an assault on a well-armed and well trained force in a defensible location, we’re considering using a UAV to launch a missile strike against them. It would flatten most of the compound, and if we followed it up with a ground attack to mop up any survivors, that should, in theory, be sufficient to eliminate that threat and reduce the likelihood of heavy casualties on our side.”

  We agreed that it sounded like a good plan and moved on to a discussion about the use of state of the art air to ground missiles in the British Isles.

  We finished the day with another pleasant evening in the surreal world of Britain’s (and possibly the world’s) only working pub.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The next day passed in a blur, as we were called into last minute meetings and we helped to load up the lorries with all the supplies we would be returning with. The plan was for the convoy to depart via the quarry exit, where the underground caverns, used for storing most of the heavy lorries and vehicles, were situated.

  Most of the stuff was obviously construction equipment, which I imagined the engineers would be using to improve our defences, but some of the items intrigued me. As I helped to push a large trailer into position so that it could be hooked up to the towing hitch of a lorry, I asked what was in the trailer. Barry, who much to his delight, was going to be travelling with the convoy and then staying behind with us, explained that it was a mobile shower unit.

  “Colonel Moore gave orders for it to be included after you made that comment about the luxury of having hot showers every day. He thought it only fair that the rest of your community should experience it too. We’ll have to work out the logistics, and whether or not it’s possible for it to be used in the long term.”

  “Why? What’s the problem?” Jerry asked.

  “It uses gas or electricity to heat the water. Bottles of gas and the fuel needed to power a generator are limited resources. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: is it a luxury or a necessity? And is it really worth using valuable resources to operate it?”

  “I wouldn’t worry,” grinned Jerry. “You haven’t met Russ, our resident boffin, yet. Of course a daily shower’s a luxury, but if anyone can work out a sustainable way of making it work, he can.”

  I joined in, “We could open up a spa retreat. We’ve got Kim to give us all massage therapy and now we’ve got hot running showers! If we had any neighbours they
’d be really jealous.”

  Barry, who was concentrating on getting the vehicles loaded up as quickly as possible so as not to delay our departure, gave no response. We concentrated next on loading up the weapons we had been allocated.

  As we loaded the crates on to one of the vehicles, he told us what they were. We were being given SA80 assault weapons and Light Machine Guns. He explained that once we’d been trained on how to use them, the SA80s would be excellent weapons for personal defence on our scavenging missions. The variants we were getting were the latest in military technology. The Light Machine Guns would greatly improve our defensive capabilities, and the intention was to keep a few strategically placed around our compound.

  Other such goodies included enough tactical vests and helmets to kit out every adult at the compound. These would provide much better protection than the standard police issue kits we’d been wearing up until now, and they would make it easier to carry spare magazines for the weapons we were getting. They were also giving us some night vision goggles for our night time sentries to use.

  As he stacked up boxes of ammunition, he explained that both weapons used the standard 5.56mm NATO rounds and that the amount we were getting would be more than enough for our training needs and initial use. I had also asked for, and received, a large quantity of 9mm ammunition for the MP5s Jerry and I owned. We still had a fair amount of ammunition left, but as they were on offer, I thought it sensible to stock up on as much as we could.

  We all hoped that we wouldn’t have to use the weapons, but just having them made us feel safer.

  If someone did decide to attack us, then unless they outnumbered us, or had far superior weaponry, we should hopefully be more than capable of protecting ourselves.

  I was introduced to the soldiers and civilian volunteers who would be relieving the personnel at our community (the current personnel would be returning to the base when the convoy came back). Before winter was over, the plan was to give people on the base (both civilian and military), the opportunity to experience life on the outside, to give them an idea of what to expect in the future. The ten civilians, all men, had arrived separately at the base over the past few months.

 

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