by Cole, Robert
‘Tina!’ he shouted.
The figure didn't respond at first; rather, it quickened its pace, only turning around when he trotted up behind.
‘Hello,’ she said, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
Her face he thought looked flushed.
‘I was just taking a walk to clear my head,’ he explained.
‘I’m running an errand for one of the guards in the kitchen,’ she said quickly, as though to forestall some question of his. ‘Often they tell you to get something they have forgotten.’
Alex noticed that the food packets she was carrying were the same type she had said she had taken from the kitchen. At that moment, the door she had emerged from suddenly opened and a man came out, tucking in his shirt tails and doing up his trousers. Alex turned sharply back to Tina. She glanced up at him guiltily, then strode forward again so that he had to exert himself to keep up with her.
‘Tina, how have you been getting your food?’ he demanded.
She gave him a fierce look. ‘You know,’ she said, pushing past him.
He caught up with her again and gripped her tightly by the arm, spinning her round, sending the food packets flying. ‘Sleeping with the guards, eh?’ he accused, totally incensed and only half believing what he saw.
She met his gaze squarely, the picture of stubborn defiance.
‘Answer me!’ he almost screamed at her. ‘Have you been sleeping with the guards?’
‘What I have been doing is no business of yours,’ she blurted, her face now showing just as much anger as his.
‘You bloody whore!’ He felt the sudden urge to slap her face. ‘Haven't you any sense of morality?’
‘Morality,’ she echoed mockingly. ‘Now there's an obsolete word. Haven't you noticed there's no such thing anymore? Survival is the only reality now and survive is what I intend to do, no matter what it takes.’
Alex shook his head in disbelief. ‘You sell your body like a piece of meat for extra morsels of food. Don't you have any respect for yourself as a person?’
‘Look around you, Alex,’ she said bitterly. ‘People's hair dropping out, their faces scarred from burns and ulcers, their skin blotched, their bodies withering in front of their very eyes. The mirrors in the toilets were smashed long ago because people couldn't bear to see what they were becoming. We all look like hideous monsters, that's the reality. The only advantage I have is that my hair hasn't fallen out yet and my skin and face aren't scarred yet. If I can use that to help me survive, then I will.’
Alex’s expression had not changed. His fists were still clenched at his sides, his eyes still glared wildly at her.
But Tina had grown frighteningly calm. ‘Tell me,’ she said, ‘are you going to stop eating my rations because you found out how I got them?’
He ignored that thrust. ‘You're not doing this again!’ he bellowed.
‘Don't order me around! I'll do exactly what I want to do! Besides, if we break out tomorrow I won't have to,’ she added. She paused and her expression softened. ‘Oh, Alex,’ she went on, ‘do you think I like doing it? A number of us were propositioned. If I hadn't done it someone else would have, then I wouldn't have been able to get this food. If it keeps us alive, then nothing else matters.’
But it did matter to Alex, it hurt him deeply. He felt betrayed. What she had done would have been unthinkable to him. He was looking at a person he thought he knew, but he had been wrong.
‘I won't do it again,’ she said, seeing the struggle going on within him. She took a step towards him and tried to put her arm around him.
Alex stepped back quickly. ‘You can't dismiss what's happened, as if I had caught you stealing a bag of sweets,’ he spat.
‘I did it for you, Alex. I did it because I wanted you to survive!’
He opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind. Turning away abruptly, he marched off, leaving her staring after him in the snow.
Alex slept only fitfully that night, his mind jerking forward constantly to the demands of the coming day, when so much would depend on his judgement and courage. Much of what he was thinking he normally would have discussed with Tina, and he knew she was awake hoping he would talk to her, but a gulf existed between them now. They had lost their intimacy. Their whole relationship had been corrupted, bruised, stained by what had happened.
He dressed early, even before the screeching alarm had gone off. Tina pretended to be asleep beside him.
‘I'll see you at the gate tonight,’ he whispered.
But he was gone before she could raise her head to answer him.
Alex found most of the work party round the fires after breakfast. He went over the details of the escape with them, making sure that everyone knew exactly what was happening. Then they shuffled off to assemble for parade. The previous day's snow had been replaced by a thick, choking smog, which reduced visibility to less than thirty metres; if this persisted, Alex thought, it could be useful.
The sergeant greeted them with his usual smirk, crunching around the detail like a growling wolf around a pack of sheep. ‘Well, after your little holiday I expect you all to work extra hard!’ he shouted. ‘And if any of you thieving bastards gives me any trouble I'll have him doing burial detail after dinner at the sick bay. You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? Now, left turn! By the left, hup, two, three, four; hup, two, three, four.’
They reached the ruins where they had been working before, and the sergeant announced that it would be their last day on that site. Nearly a metre of fresh snow had fallen, choking what they had cleared before, and adding to the burden of their labours.
At lunch, Alex sat next to Dougan, whose once powerful frame had wasted under the demands of the heavy work, leaving only the framework, the skeletal shell of the former man. A black swollen bruise still scarred one side of his face from the beating he had received a few days previously. One black eye, half closed and bloodshot, winked unnervingly at Alex while he talked.
‘Are you clear on everything?’ Alex asked.
Dougan nodded grimly. ‘I can't wait,’ he said.
‘Remember,’ Alex warned, ‘only attack when I give the word. If we bungle this, we'll be slaughtered.’
‘I'll remember.’
‘Where are you planning to go afterwards?’ Alex asked, deciding to change the subject.
The man shrugged. ‘West probably. Yes…that's what I'll do. How about you?’
Alex hesitated. He had not told Dougan about the Land Rover and he didn't intend to now, in case he might want to come with him. ‘I'll try and reach Wales somehow,’ he said.
‘Wales!’ Dougan looked surprised. ‘How are you going to get across the water?’
‘I’ll find a boat, hopefully.’
Dougan pulled a face. ‘Seems like a lot of effort to me, when you can head west on foot.’
‘What about the others?’ Alex asked.
‘Pretty much scattering in all directions, from what I gather. Some are for going east, hoping that the government is handing out food, but most are heading west. Maybe one or two will try for Wales.’
‘Lunch is over!’ the sergeant suddenly bellowed. ‘Let's get cracking. Remember, I want this site cleared today.’
Dougan gave Alex a quick smile before collecting his shovel and resuming work.
At six the long march back to the camp started. As the detail proceeded through the centre of town, Alex peered down the street where he had previously seen the Land Rover. It was there! He breathed a sigh of relief so far, so good.
When the first houses started appearing the guards took up their usual positions. With the sergeant striding well ahead of the rest, Alex had positioned himself at the back of the two columns of men, and Dougan was third from the front. As soon as they had got clear of the last military patrol, Dougan started limping and the detail slowed down to keep pace with him. The sergeant dropped back and drew alongside Dougan.
‘Sore leg, is it, Dougan?’
‘No, I always walk
with a limp.’
‘Any cheek from you and I'll halve your dinner rations,’ the sergeant replied coldly.
‘Yeah, that's exactly what I'd expect from a piece of shit like you.’
The sergeant looked genuinely shocked. ‘What did you just call me?’ he asked, daring Dougan to repeat his words.
‘Piece ... of ... shit!’ Dougan mouthed the words slowly and clearly, so there could be no doubt as to what he had said.
‘You'll live to regret those words, Dougan!’ the sergeant scowled, his face twisting in a nasty snarl.
‘Why, are you going to murder me like you did Carlson?’ Dougan asked. ‘Or maybe you'd like the personal touch, like smashing me over the head with a shovel...’
Alex watched the performance, full of admiration for Dougan's courage. Looking left and right, he was glad to see that the guards had closed in on the column, and were listening to the argument. The guard behind, Alex judged, was about two metres away. He could see the other prisoners snatching quick glances back at him.
The moment had come.
Alex readied himself to pounce.
‘NOW!’ he screamed.
He sprang backwards off his haunches into the following guard. The man went down with Alex on top of him. Quickly Alex rolled over and tried to pin him to the ground until the others reached him, but the guard was much stronger and broke Alex’s grip, pushing him off. Fortunately, a second prisoner landed on the guard and began showering him with wild punches. A third man also joined in, kicking and punching. Alex pushed the rifle away and looked around.
The column had scattered into a mass of struggling forms. The sergeant had attracted the most attention and was now lost somewhere under a pile of thrashing bodies. One guard lay motionless in the snow, and a second was being badly beaten by four of the workers. The guard behind Alex was still fighting back. He rose to his feet, shaking off his weakened attackers, and Alex went for him again, pushing his face deep into the snow. But he twisted away and lashed out; a knee jerk into the groin made Alex dizzy with pain, but now he had his hands around the man's throat. Steadily he tightened his grip until the guard's eyes bulged, his hands fluttering desperately, trying to loosen the vice of the closing fingers. Once again, the two prisoners weighed in, and one of them, retrieving the guard's rifle, bashed away with the butt until he didn't move again.
All the guards were now overpowered. As for the sergeant, six men, including Dougan, were standing over him. Dougan had the sergeant’s knife in his hand, and from the savage wounds plastered all over his body, it was clear that he had taken his revenge. Blood still oozed into the snow in every direction. Alex, sickened by the sight, turned away, leaving Dougan still staring wildly down at the dead man.
Already the group was beginning to break up, warning each other as they scattered of the dangers of meeting a military patrol. Alex grabbed the sergeant's rifle and ammunition and disappeared into the shadows to shave, hoping that when the men from the work party had disappeared, he could strip down one of the guards before a patrol arrived. He climbed a fence into someone's front garden and knelt by the light of one of the windows. The razor was awkward to handle with his gloves on, so once he had splashed his face with snow and lathered it with soap, he took them off.
It was slow, painful work, scraping off a centimetre of thick growth that had accumulated since the holocaust. Frequently the razor became clogged, and he had to rub it in the snow to clean it. At best he knew it was going to be a rough job, with no mirror to work by, but as Tina had said, appearances were not what they had been, these days, even the soldiers looked scruffy and unkempt. He doubted his appearance would attract much attention.
When he looked around again the street was empty except for the bodies of the guards. Alex stripped one about the same height as himself. The man was unconscious, but breathing steadily. He dragged him to some shelter and dressed him in his own clothes so he wouldn't freeze, then set off towards the town centre.
Flickers of light were beginning to appear in the houses as night started to close in. Alex hurried on his way, staying close to the huge ridges which the snowploughs, in their repeated passages, had piled up on either side of the road. Each time he heard a vehicle approaching, he threw himself over this ridge and waited until it had passed. After half a kilometre, the two storey, grey brick terraces and closely packed shops of the town centre replaced the cottages of the suburbs. He moved more cautiously now, glad of the fading light. Finally he reached the road junction where he had seen the Land Rover. When he turned the corner, he found the whole military base and its surrounds lit up by powerful floodlights, and directly below one of these lights stood the Land Rover. Alex swore under his breath. He thought his luck was too good to last. Everyone in the street would be able to see him steal the vehicle.
Despairingly, he crept as close as he dared and waited. After a while, a patrol appeared and flashed its way into the darkness again. There was nothing for it but to take a gamble, he decided. Plucking up his courage, he tucked his ragged hair under his beret, straightened his uniform and slung his rifle over his shoulder. He strode out to the vehicle with as much authority as he could muster. The tyres had chains on them, which explained how the Land Rover could still negotiate the icy streets. However, it also meant it couldn't reach high speed without ripping the tyres apart. He opened the door and found the wires under the dashboard. When he touched them together the engine ticked over. That was a relief, anyway; he threw the gear lever in first and eased up on the clutch.
A face with a handlebar moustache, and with an officer's tabs visible, appeared at the window. Alex’s heart pounded. Another military patrol was approaching down the road. He wound down the window and saluted.
‘What are you doing with this vehicle, soldier?’
Alex thought fast. ‘Colonel Kirton ordered me to park it in the garage, sir.’
‘There is no garage, that's why he parks it here.’ The officer's eyes narrowed as he watched Alex’s face.
Alex swallowed. ‘Not this building, Sir. The one two doors along, with the driveway.’ Alex pointed to the driveway he had just been hiding in.
‘That's a residential house,’ the officer said, frowning.
‘That's right. Colonel Kirton doesn't think the Land Rover is safe here, since he lost his keys. The owner of the house has offered him the use of his garage.’
The officer scratched his jaw thoughtfully. ‘I see.’ His eyes returned to Alex's face. ‘Why haven't I seen you here before?’
‘I just arrived today with Colonel Kirton, Sir,’ said Alex smartly.
The officer nodded slowly, then stood back, satisfied for the moment at least. ‘Very good, soldier, carry on.’
Alex figured he would be confirming his identity with Colonel Kirton at the first opportunity, but he would be long gone by then.
‘Sir,’ Alex saluted. He put the vehicle into gear and drove slowly to the driveway. There he parked it, and pretended to fiddle with the garage door. A second patrol crunched past while the officer watched him, before finally disappearing into the building. Alex immediately jumped into the vehicle, reversed up the drive and drove off as fast as the chains on his wheels would allow.
Ten minutes later, the gates of the camp came in sight. Alex, calming his nerves, mentally rehearsed his story, trying hard to reason out all the possible questions he could be asked. The gates opened and a young blond soldier with sunken eyes and a drawn face waved him down.
‘I have a dispatch from Colonel Bradshaw from the Bristol camp,’ Alex recited.
The man looked puzzled. ‘We had a dispatch two days ago,’ he said.
‘This is a special dispatch, marked urgent,’ Alex replied, trying to sound full of authority.
The guard walked round the back of the vehicle, then returned to Alex. ‘Why isn't the usual dispatch driver here?’
‘He was taken sick this morning,’ Alex replied promptly. ‘In fact,’ he went on, confidentially, ‘I think my camp'
s coming down with the flu. That may be what this urgent dispatch is about.’
The guard registered alarm at the very mention of flu. He leant closer to Alex, ‘There's a strong rumour here also, about a flu epidemic. Many of the inmates have already died and a number of the guards are becoming sick, some very seriously. They say there's no cure.’
Alex nodded. ‘Don't tell anyone,’ he said, ‘but I think Colonel Bradshaw is thinking of abandoning the camp because the epidemic is out of control. We hardly have any medical supplies left. He may be instructing Major Hayes to do the same.’
The soldier grew wide eyed. ‘No, that's impossible!’
‘I don't know for sure,’ Alex said. ‘But in these conditions flu spreads like wild fire. The Spanish flu killed fifteen million in World War I, you know. Well,’ he continued, tapping significantly on a folder he had found under the front seat, ‘I'd better get this dispatch to the Major.’
‘Oh yes,’ said the guard. ‘By God, abandoning the camp, is he? It must be bad.’ He signalled the guard towers and waved him through.
Alex smiled, feeling pleased with his performance. When he was sure he was out of sight of the gate, he switched off his lights and waited for the others. He didn't have to wait long; Tina, Cliff and Roy bundled into the back almost immediately.
‘Congratulations, guv. Any trouble?’ Cliff asked.
‘I'll tell you later,’ Alex said. ‘Keep down low, I've decided to try and bluff my way out?’
‘Is that wise?’
‘I've no choice. This Land Rover's got chains on it; if I try to reach high speed, I'll only tear up the tyres. Besides, I doubt whether I could control it in the attempt. The guard expects me back about now, anyway, so I can at least approach the gate without being shot at. We're quite chatty. There's an outside chance we might get clean away.’
‘What if he looks in the back?’ Tina asked.
‘That's a chance we'll have to take,’ Alex replied. ‘If the worst comes to the worst, I'll ram the gates. Get down, now.’
The blond guard saw him coming and waved him down again.
