by Jason Ayres
They had fond memories of this place. Charlie had brought her here some years ago on Valentine’s Day to propose, and they had stayed in this very hotel.
In a small, boutique-style restaurant in the pretty square at the end of the road he’d proposed over the coq au vin. She had accepted straightaway, and they’d celebrated with the finest champagne. He had promised to bring her back one day. He hadn’t expected it to be this soon, though.
They were relieved when arriving at the hotel to find they had vacancies. They booked themselves in, ordered room service, and settled in for an early night. It had been a long couple of days.
Now it was morning, and Charlie had woken first. He pulled back the curtains to reveal an all too familiar sight outside – falling snow. It didn’t look too bad on the ground, though. He could see people walking up and down the street and hear the noise of traffic. Perhaps things would not get so bad here, he mused.
He turned on the TV and tuned into CNN. They were reporting on the deepening crisis the weather was causing in Northern Europe. The images switched to London, and Charlie was shocked by what he saw.
The capital was buried under a huge amount of snow, and there were images of fire and looting being shown. It reminded him of something he’d seen one summer years ago when he was a kid and there had been riots in London.
The pictures then switched to images of the Army marching in Trafalgar Square. Things must be really bad. He turned up the volume to listen further.
“It is now estimated that over 50% of the country is without electricity, and the Government is unable to state when it will be restored. A spokesman said that conditions are currently too bad for repairs to be made to the lines. In London, the situation is now so bad that a state of martial law has been declared. Anyone caught looting can be shot on sight.
All travel has been restricted across the whole of the UK, and citizens are being urged to stay in their homes until the crisis has passed.”
“It’s not going to pass,” said Kaylee, who had awakened whilst Charlie was watching the TV. “It will get worse, if anything. I’m really worried about those we’ve left behind. I should have insisted they come with us.”
“Why don’t you try and ring them?” asked Charlie.
“Already on it,” she replied, phone in hand. As she tried to get through to her friends, Charlie continued to watch the TV.
“Meanwhile, in Russia, where temperatures fell as low as -25C overnight, the President has announced a state of emergency. Among the measures he has introduced is to suspend all deliveries of gas to other countries in the region due to the growing energy needs in Russia.
The move was condemned by other leaders who said that his actions amounted to little more than a death sentence to stranded people across Europe relying on the supplies for warmth.”
“I can’t get through to Lauren or Hannah,” remarked Kaylee. “Both of their phones seem to be switched off.” She glanced at the TV screen. “Look at that,” she exclaimed.
The news channel was giving its hourly weather update which featured a scrolling globe focusing on the different regions of the world. As they watched, they marvelled at some of the low temperatures they were seeing.
The map was focused on Northern Europe. It was showing Moscow (-18), Oslo (-12), Berlin (-3), London (-5), Paris (-1). These wouldn’t have been unusual in January, but this was October.
The map switched to Southern Europe, and more clement temperatures: Madrid (+8), Rome (+6), Athens (+13), Tenerife (+21). “That’s where we should head for next,” said Charlie. “Madrid. We can get a flight from there all the way to Fuerteventura.”
They dressed and headed downstairs to the restaurant for the buffet breakfast. As they ate, they decided not to try and get a flight from Paris, but to take the high-speed train all the way to Madrid.
By the time they left the hotel, the snow was falling quite thickly. There was no time to delay if they were to stay ahead of the weather. They got back aboard the Métro and headed for the railway station.
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Alice and Josh had spent the night in Bodmin. After trudging across the snowbound landscape for about half an hour they’d found the main road to Bodmin on the other side of the hills. There were a few cars still attempting to negotiate it in the snow, but not many. They’d attempted to thumb a lift from the first couple of cars but had been ignored.
A sign close to where they’d joined the road read “Bodmin 2”. They’d had no choice but to walk it. The going was very slow and it took them over two hours, but they finally made it into the historic Cornish town.
It had been snowing on and off throughout their walk, and they were extremely cold by the time they reached Bodmin. Alice, in particular, was struggling, but Josh had lent her his woolly hat and plenty of encouragement.
When at last they arrived in the town centre, they were extremely relieved, not to mention delighted, to discover a pub that was open. Not only did it have a roaring fire, but it also did food. They relaxed with a couple of pints and an enormous Sunday roast, and soon began to feel much better.
The snow had not hit the far South-West of England anything like as badly as the rest of the country. They were unaware of the chaos going on elsewhere, other than a little small talk with the waiter who brought them their food, who offered the opinion that it was “grim up north”.
There was a large TV screen in the bar, but they weren’t able to find out any useful information from it. The only words on the screen were “No Signal”.
After they’d eaten, they sat in front of the fire, allowing their clothes to dry in the heat. It was at this point that Josh had brought up the subject of where they were going to stay for the night. Alice was already a step ahead of him there. She’d noticed a sign on the door as they’d entered that read “Rooms available”. A quick enquiry at the bar, and they were sorted for the night.
And so, in the pub they had stayed safe, warm and comfortable. Later they had cuddled up to keep warm in the large, four-poster bed in their room. Now it was morning and they were eating breakfast in the bar. The TV screen was still displaying “No Signal” and the landlord was fiddling around with the controls.
“I can’t understand what’s wrong with this,” he said. “It does this sometimes when it’s heavy rain or snow, but it’s clear skies out there now.”
He wasn’t to know that the satellite provider had been without electricity for over 24 hours, and that the TV studios had been abandoned.
The landlord went back into the kitchen leaving them to make plans.
“So what now?” asked Alice.
“Well, we can’t stay in Bodmin forever,” replied Josh. “And I don’t fancy trying to get home in this weather. We’ve got this far – we may as well see it through.”
“There is one thing that’s been worrying me,” she said. “You said that only one person at a time can go through a Time Bubble. If that’s true, and we do find one, what then? Does one of us have to stay behind?”
This had occurred to Josh, but he hadn’t come up with a viable solution yet. “We’ll worry about that if and when we find it. In the meantime, we need to get ourselves kitted out properly. We can’t go traipsing about in this weather dressed like this.”
After breakfast, they checked out and headed into the town centre. It was bright and sunny and didn’t feel as cold as it had the previous evening. There were a good few inches of snow on the pavements but life in the town seemed to be proceeding relatively normally.
The snow on the roads was turning to slush and there were a few cars moving around. They passed by the local primary school which surprisingly was open.
“You know, I don’t think this is as bad as we thought it was going to be,” said Josh. “Still, we had better be prepared, just in case.”
They found a specialist hiking shop and went inside to get everything they needed. Soon they were dressed in full winter gear, with sturdy walking boots and ba
ckpacks. They were aware that even if they managed to travel by road as far as St Ives, they would still need to negotiate the last couple of miles around the coastline on foot.
They found a small supermarket which was still relatively well stocked. It seemed that the panic buying fever hadn’t reached down as far as this corner of the country. They filled their backpacks with as much food as they could carry, and then they felt ready for the off.
They went to check out the railway station, more in hope than in expectation. With the snow melting, the tracks looked perfectly passable to Josh and Alice, but there were no trains running. There was a solitary guard on duty, a small, thin man in his late-fifties with a grey moustache. Josh approached him to try and find out more information.
“How come there are no trains running today?” he asked. “The tracks don’t look too bad.”
“They aren’t too bad here,” said the guard, “but further east it’s a different story. Most of the country has had it a lot worse than here. The tracks are blocked completely the other side of Plymouth. There’s no way any trains are going to be coming through from London today.”
“Well, that settles one thing, then,” said Josh. “We definitely made the right decision not to try and head back home.”
“Where are you thinking of going, sir, if you don’t mind me asking?” said the guard, eyeing up their hiking gear. “You wouldn’t be thinking of going up onto the moor, would you? Because there’s more snow on the way and I could tell you plenty of tales of people who’ve gone up there in bad conditions and regretted it.”
“Nothing so foolhardy,” replied Josh. “We are just visiting family in St Ives.”
“I suggest you get going soon, then, while you still can,” said the guard. “I was listening to the radio earlier and there’s a whole lot more snow forecast for today: worse than the first lot, they say.”
“Thanks for the advice,” said Alice. “Come on, Josh, we’d better get moving.”
“Good luck,” said the guard. “And try the bus station. They might still be operating.”
They bid him farewell and headed to the bus station. Sure enough, there were a couple of buses running, and they leapt aboard one marked “TRURO”. This would take them at least halfway to St Ives. The next leg of their journey had begun.
Chapter Eighteen – 23rd October 2029 (11.00am)
Dan and Ryan had been very busy indeed. They had taken full advantage of the brief lull in the bad weather on Monday to set themselves up in their own little kingdom.
Now they were in the Army base, sitting in the newly cleaned up mess hall, electric lights and heating working thanks to the generator next door, planning their next move.
Sitting with them were two new recruits, Neil, the supermarket manager, and Colin, the security guard, who had been desperately trying to protect their store only a couple of days ago.
Now they were working for Dan. They hadn’t really been given a lot of choice to begin with, but having seen the benefits of what he had to offer, were now willing converts.
First thing on Monday morning, Ryan and Dan had gone out, stolen a Land Rover, fitted it with snow tracks, and driven round to the rear doors of the supermarket. There they’d forced their way in to discover the manager and the guard camped out in the staffroom, helping themselves to the store’s food.
Their protests at the intrusion were soon silenced when Dan produced one of Ryan’s guns to show he meant business. Dan had no intention of shooting them, but they didn’t know that. He wasn’t looking to kill people. He wanted recruits, just as he had when he’d been active with his Fascist political party, so he offered them a deal. A place to stay, under his leadership, in exchange for their help, and as much food as they could take with them from the store.
The two men had little choice but to accept. Dan’s gun was very persuasive.
With the store under his control, Dan sent the others out to the car park to search for another suitable vehicle, whilst he headed straight for the deli counter. If there was one thing he enjoyed more than bullying people, it was food, and he was going to take full advantage.
It was cold in the store and the food on the deli hadn’t gone off, despite the lack of electrical refrigeration. Dan went behind the counter and began to stuff his greedy, fat face full of pork pies, slices of ham, cheese and anything else he could get his hands on. It was the ultimate buffet.
When the others returned, having secured another 4x4, they split into two groups. Dan didn’t trust his new recruits yet not to do a runner, so he took Neil with him to search for fuel, whilst Ryan and Colin loaded up the Land Rover with food to take back to the base.
Getting the gates of the Army camp open wasn’t easy. Although the lock was relatively easy to cut, clearing all the snow from the gates took time.
Whilst Ryan and Colin were sorting that out, Dan and Neil were at a petrol station half a mile up the road. It had been abandoned, but sitting on the forecourt was a full-size tanker that had arrived to make a delivery and got stuck in the snow. From the label on the back they deduced it must be full of diesel, exactly what they needed for the generator.
They broke into the shop, grabbed as many plastic fuel carriers as they could, and opened up the fuel line for the tanker. Dan wasn’t sure if they’d be able to get it open, it was bound to be secured, but in the end it proved remarkably easy.
Clearly the tanker had been in the process of making its delivery at the time it had been abandoned, and the outlet pipe was still unlocked.
With a truck full of diesel they’d headed back to the camp, got the generator going, and made the place habitable. They’d even brought Ryan’s PS6 and a TV with them, so spent the night playing games and getting very drunk, until they had all passed out. Their male bonding was complete, and by the morning Dan had no further fear of his new recruits running out on him. They were enjoying themselves too much for that.
It was all part of Dan’s plan. He presented a benevolent but firm approach to them. The undertones were clear enough. They were working for him now: serve him well and they would be rewarded. Let him down and there would be consequences.
The plan for Tuesday was much the same as the day before. They would go out foraging for whatever they needed. As Dan explained to them, they had no need to fear the law. They had not seen any police or Army the whole of the previous day, so, whatever was happening in the wider world, clearly no one was coming to help them.
With no law and order, it was up to them to provide it in the short term for the greater good. If they needed to steal to survive, who could begrudge them that if the alternative was death by starvation or exposure? It was not as if anyone was waiting around to take them into custody.
Dan’s acolytes hung on his every word. Everything he said made sense to them. Stick with him and they’d be OK. Choosing his words carefully, he continued to outline his plans.
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Dan was right about one thing. There was no law and order, at least not locally. Whilst the Army and the police focused what resources they had on the major cities, smaller towns and villages had been left to fend for themselves.
By Monday, Hannah had realised that there was very little she could do in her role as D.I. All the landlines were down and her mobile phone battery was flat with no way to charge it, leaving her cut off from her colleagues. When she called at the police station, Miley was gone, whereabouts unknown.
She took a quick walk through town to find that half of the shops had been broken into. Other than that the place was like a ghost town. Most of the residents either had barricaded themselves in their homes or had left in a mass exodus the previous day. Devotion to duty was one thing, but attempting to single-handedly take charge of the situation was pointless.
What could she realistically do, anyway? It was time to think of herself and her daughter.
Now it was Tuesday morning and the two of them were safely ensconced in the kitchen of her grandmother�
�s cottage. As Jess sat at the kitchen table, Hannah was frying up eggs and bacon on the Aga. Next to the frying pan was a pan of fresh water, close to boiling. Hannah was really in need of a good cup of coffee.
Jess was enjoying herself tremendously. To her, this was one big adventure. Lighting candles, making fires, boiling water on a stove: these were all novelties to her that she had read about but never previously experienced.
“Is this what it was like living in the old days, Mummy?” she asked.
“It certainly is,” replied Hannah. “And I’ve thought of something else we can try after we’ve had our bacon and eggs. How do you fancy making some toast over the fire?”
“Yay!” replied Jess.
“And later we can bake some of our own bread in the Aga,” added Hannah. Her daughter’s enthusiasm had begun to rub off on her. Rather than just buy fresh bread, she’d thought ahead and picked up not only some part-baked rolls that were vacuum-sealed and would last for months, but also yeast, flour and all the other ingredients needed to make bread from scratch.
She saw no reason why they couldn’t survive. After all, the human race had survived for millions of years before electricity and other mod cons were invented. Why shouldn’t they? They had enough food to last at least three months. She was hopeful that the oil in the tank would last that long, too, if they were frugal.
Jess had been right: this was exactly like the old days. She was almost looking forward to it. And it was only three months until Peter would emerge from The Time Bubble. Then they would all be together.
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When Lauren awoke, she was cold, despite being wrapped up tightly in a thick duvet. She reluctantly climbed out of bed, noticing the frost on the window. She placed her hand on the radiator. It was cold.
