Rumblings of agreement in the crowd.
“I see that here, I see that. In all of your eyes, in every single one of you, I see people who are willing to work for each other, ready to put their lives down for their neighbor, and it makes me proud. It makes me happy.
“You want to know what else makes me happy? Being able to deliver some good news to all you great people. Good news is thin on the ground in this day and age. It seems that every day something terrible happens. Well, today, something great is going to happen, and it gives me the utmost pleasure to be the one to deliver this news to you.”
A happy impatience bubbled in the crowd. A few good-humored shouts asking Dalby to reveal his news.
Dalby laughed. “Ok, ok. You want to know? You sure? Ok, Electricity! That’s right, that magic word, electricity! It’s coming to a holiday park near you, tonight!”
An explosion of applause and cheers. Like a football crowd, they had just won the league, the cup, the Euros.
It took minutes for the sound to die to a trickle, for Dalby to be heard again. “I knew that would do it! So let’s hear it for Lieutenant Myers, come here Myers. This guy is our electric’s whizz. He was an engineer before all this, and he’s the guy who has got the lights on again.”
Another massive session of applause as a skinny man with glasses, but a hard face, took to the stage. The next ten minutes had Myers relate the story of how he had got the electricity on. He had more to say, felt Andy, but not the charisma to carry it, and Dalby interrupted towards the end.
“So there you have it, let’s hear it for Myers!” said Dalby.
Another few minutes for the cheers to die down, and Dalby took on a grave expression. “Before we finish for the day, I have some bad news. I know, I know, but it’s the world we are living in. I know you guys can take it.
“The attack…” he let the word settle in. Let people remember. Let them miss their loved ones. “It happened, there’s nothing we can do about that. We are angry, I know that. We have lost people we loved, and as well as that we have all lost something else vitally important; our sense of security, our sense of safety. We have lived here for a long time, knowing that we were safe from the horrors outside, that they couldn’t get in here, that the Fence protected us…”
Ash and Andy shared a quick glance. The mood of the crowd changed perceptibly.
“Yes, I feel it too. That anger at the loss of our friends, our family,” continued Dalby. “Our children…” He passed and moved his eyes slowly through the crowd.
“Where’s Jack?” shouted a deep voice from the crowd. It was echoed immediately.
“Ok,” shouted Dalby, “Ok! You want answers? Jack, has been dealt with.”
Dalby let the questions and murmuring run for a minute.
“We found him, and his daughter, God rest their souls, by their chalet, the day of the attack. It seems that God has taken his own revenge on the architect of the terrible disaster that struck our little community that day. The man who was guilty of being negligent of his duties, the man who was lazy, who didn’t do the things he was supposed to, has paid with his life. I think we agree that divine justice has been served.”
Murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd.
Ash squeezed Andy’s hand tight. He didn’t dare to look at her, lest he gave away the tangle of nerves that was working his stomach.
“I need your trust,” continued Dalby, his voice rising again. “Trust that we will look after you. You will see tonight that we will turn on the lights, bringing civilization back to our beautiful town. That’s right, it’s not just electricity, it’s society, it’s humanity rising again. I ask one thing, for the next week, while we mend the Fence, fix it and make it strong in the way it should have been done, we ask that no one leave the camp. For our own safety, we need to stay home. Just for a week. Do we agree?”
A cheer.
“You know,” said Dalby leaning forward on the podium, a mischievous smile on his face. “You won’t want to go anywhere anyway because staying here in the camp is going to be fun. Tonight, we’re having a party, we’re turning on the lights, and in the car park, we’re having a party. Music! Food! Drink! You may even grab yourself a dance with one of our brave soldiers, what do you think?”
Another round of massive applause erupted. People stood up. A shout emerged from the cheers: “Dalby! Dalby! Dalby!”
“Cheer” whispered Ash to Andy. He realized he had been standing open-mouthed. Ash was waving her arms about, shouting the Major’s name. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and motioned at him with her eyebrows. Andy started to chant with the rest of them. “Dalby! Dalby! Dalby!”
Chapter 17
“So what do you think about that? Some rally,” said Crowe sitting down on the couch, pulling off his boots.
“He said no one could leave.”
“Yes he did, Miss Einstein. If we’d gone when I said, we’d be happy up the hill now and on our way.”
“Oh, shut up,” said Sarah. But he was right. They should have left in the morning, straight after she found out Adam was dead.
“So what now? You got a plan?” said Crowe.
Beyond the chalet next to theirs, the trees of the woods at the edge of the camp peeked over like a green wig.
“They can’t guard everywhere can they?” said Sarah. “They don’t have that many men. I guess I just go tonight. Out via the woods. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“What about me? I just stay here and join the party?” said Crowe.
“You know, you might be on to something.”
“What?
“The party. Dalby said there was going to be a party tonight, to celebrate the turning on of the lights. I’ll go then.”
“So I really do stay here to join the party? I don’t see how this benefits me.”
“I told you, Allen will want to know what’s going on down here with Dalby.”
“We know what’s going on, he’s batshit crazy.” He paused. “But yeah, I get it. You go. I’ll be good. I’ll look forward to hearing some music again.”
Sarah smiled. “That’s the spirit, soldier.”
The car park was usually the meeting place for the Runners. Trucks and tables laid out with weapons, maps and other necessities for the different teams to select as they planned their runs.
This evening though, the trucks had been moved, and the tables had a different function. A huge buffet was spread around the edges of the car park, where Dalby’s troops gleefully handed out food and drink to the excited party goers. Sarah, despite her mission, found the atmosphere enticing, exciting even. A collection of people with the aim to have fun. Another rare relic of life before the Fall she had taken for granted.
The sun had set, ducking down below the edge of the world for another day. Candles and oil lamps illuminated the car park. A raised platform was set out at one end. A table with a mysterious black box sat on it. The hub-bub died down to excited anticipation as Dalby and Myers took to the stage. As was normal now, silence settled as everyone waited for Dalby to speak.
“I won’t talk too much, well, I’ll try my best,” he smiled, the crowd laughed. “I know you want to party. How long has it been since we’ve had a party!?”
“Too long!” shouted one drunken reveler, followed by cheers and whoops.
“Usually,” continued Dalby, “this darkness means the end of the day. We go to sleep, we shut down for the night. We settle in, hoping that the terrors from outside don’t get in. Not anymore people.
“Myers…”
Myers took his cue and moved some dials on the mysterious black box. Quietly, the car park was bathed in light. When Sarah was a little girl, she had lived on a road of people who took their christmas decorations very seriously. Each tree and house adorned with the brightest of reds, greens, blues, flashing whites and delicious warm yellows.
It seemed Dalby had raided the holiday park’s Christmas decorations, because it was exactly back to her childhood
christmas that the bursting of the lights took her. In spite of herself, she gasped. A quick draw of breath as something inside her deepest soul lurched; her body recognizing that they had suddenly slipped out of the dark ages, the last stage of human evolution complete once more. No longer a slave to the night.
She imagined similar reactions from those around her, each in their own private experience, their own little world. Men and women hugged, people cried. Children whooped and hollered and cheered. The silence of surprise and wonder enveloped in the complete celebration of a people freed from darkness.
Timed to perfection, allowing the peak of excitement for the new bright world to be reached, and Dalby pulled out his next surprise. Another flick of a switch from Myers and speakers, situated at the corners of the car park, blared into life. Music - not too loud, but loud enough. Dancing started spontaneously. Sarah giggled as a little girl a few feet away began to gyrate with broken and out of time movements, her hands and legs flying in opposite and uncoordinated directions. Then sadness washed over her. The little girl danced like her own little Clarissa used to.
It was time to go.
“Ok, Crowe, wish me luck.”
“Good luck, sweet cheeks,” said Crowe.
She smiled, then laughed. It was rare for Crowe to do anything nearing a joke. She felt she could cry, so overcome with emotion. She hugged him, and he hugged her back. They held each other tight. For the first time since knowing him, she felt something close to attraction. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay here in the chalet with their new electricity and cuddle up with Crowe under their heated blanket. Kiss and make love and wake up in the morning and listen to soft music on their electric cd player.
Crowe pulled away and stared at her. “You be careful,” he said.
“I will.”
She forced herself to leave before she tried to kiss him.
As she reached the edge of the crowd, she paused. Dalby had taken to the mic again. She turned back to the podium. She saw the back of Crowe’s head.
“One more thing,” said Dalby. “We’re a new town now, we’re a new people. We need a new name. Tulloch Bay holiday park doesn’t encapsulate who we are anymore. This isn’t a holiday park. This is a new life. This is people working together to forward the survival of the human race. This is a new place of unity.
“Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls, welcome to Unity!”
A large banner behind Dalby unfurled to reveal the words ‘UNITY’ carved out in three foot high letters. The crowd erupted in cheers, approving of the new name.
Crowe raised his hands and waved them in celebration. He turned and met eyes with Sarah. He nodded and smiled, then turned again to the podium, cheering and clapping for all he was worth.
Sarah watched him for a moment, then turned and hurried back to the chalet.
Sarah packed her small backpack hurriedly in the dark of the chalet. She didn’t know why she left the lights off; it just felt right that she should hide herself from now on. She was about to try and leave the camp, or ‘Unity’ as it was now called, and that was illegal.
She put cans of tomatoes and tuna in the bag, along with a torch, her waterproof and a zippo lighter. Her knife. A sleeping bag. The photo of Adam. She would return that to Sergeant Allen; she didn’t need it any more. She shouldered the small backpack and picked up her sword.
Sarah took one last look around the chalet, the shadows of the furniture like animals in the dark. Stay, they said. Stay here and build a life. With Crowe. He's a good man.
She wiped a tear from her eye. Peered outside to see she was alone, then set off from the chalet, into the darkness.
She walked steadily along the road, trying to keep in the shadows. There was a half moon, and pale shadows followed her. She heard footsteps. She ducked in behind a chalet and waited as they got closer. A soldier walked by, his steps quick, like he was going somewhere. Or maybe just keen to join the party.
When he was gone, she continued on her way. Pretty silly move, she thought, hiding behind someone’s chalet. What would she have done if the owners had come out? Harder to explain hiding in the dark than merely being a woman out for a walk.
Sarah reached the last of the chalets without meeting anyone else. The dark maw of the forest lay ahead. Her adrenaline spiked a notch. Something primal about towering trees in the darkness that could instill fear into even the toughest. From the days of fairies, trolls, and goblins, to highway men, thieves, and now zombies. Always something to hide in the darkness.
Stop being daft, she told herself. She stepped on, but with a tighter grip on her sword, now drawn. An owl hooted as if to complete the horror movie ambiance.
If she remembered correctly, it was only a five minute walk to the edge of the park. One foot after another, deeper into the woods. She stumbled a few times on mounds of mud and errant branches. She snapped small twigs.
Maybe it was the snapping of one of the twigs that alerted the soldiers.
They came from nowhere. They weren’t there, and then they were, like golems that simply grew from the night.
The gun’s cocking was the first thing she heard. Sharp clicks. The rustle of fabric as weapons were raised. She only saw shadows at first. Two men, one either side of the path.
“Halt!” shouted one.
“Don’t move,” said the other, his voice more measured.
Sarah stopped. Her heart hammered like a piston, vibrating through her whole body. She heard the blood in her ears.
“Put it on the ground,” the first one shouted again.
“Put what on the ground?” she said, for a second forgetting about her sword.
“The sword, soft girl!”
“Oh, ok,” she said, jumping at the loud shout of the soldier. He had a Liverpool accent. Sounded young. She kneeled down and placed the sword on the ground. Slowly. Thoughts racing through her head, how was she going to explain this? They wouldn’t hurt her, would they? Just doing their job. Their orders from Dalby. Their dictate. Even so, her nerves were higher than any zombie encounter she’d had for a long time.
“What you doing out here?” said the second man. He stepped forward, into the light. Tall, balding, but with long hair sprouting from the sides of his head.
“I’m just going for a walk,” she said, forcing her voice to take on a meekness that she hoped signaled subservience. A poor woman out in the woods, I need the big strong man’s help. Don’t hurt me, etcetera, etcetera.
“Yeah, well, you not hear what the Major said?”
“Yes, he said that we weren’t to leave the camp.”
“Unity,” corrected the tall soldier.
“Yes, Unity. He said we weren’t to leave.”
“Then what you doing out here?” said the younger one. He stepped into the light now too. Smaller than the first, patchy beard and long hair, turning into one big dread-lock.
“I was going for a walk,” she said.
The two soldiers looked at her for a moment, then the young soldier said, “She’s full of shit, Terry.”
“Well, are you?” said Terry. “Full of shit? Funny time to be taking a walk. Especially in the woods. Dangerous out here. What’s in the backpack?”
Sarah let out a small cry. She sniffled. “My young daughter died a year ago today.” She closed her eyes and thought of her daughter. Something wrong in using the memory of her daughter as a tool to bring on tears, but she needed it now. “I couldn’t face the celebration, it didn’t feel right. Being happy.” She didn’t have to act. Clarissa’s smiling little face, the few times Sarah was on time to pick her up from nursery. Her cry of joy, running to mummy’s arms. “I want revenge. When I’m like this, all I can do is come out and find one. Kill it,” said Sarah, the tears finally flowing. I’m sorry Clarissa, she said to herself.
Terry and the young soldier looked at each other. Chris shook his head. “He asked you what’s in the backpack?”
“Hold on, Chris,” said Terry. “She’s upset.”
“She might be, but she might be full of shit. Bit weird being out here,” said Chris. “I don’t like it.”
“Ok,” said Terry. “Pass him the backpack.”
Sarah took it off her shoulder. Once they saw what was inside, they would know her story was bullshit. They might not, but she couldn’t risk it. She could run. Into the woods. It was dark, they might not catch her. Might was better than the definite that was going to happen in about ten seconds.
With one quick movement, she threw the backpack straight at Terry’s face; he was the closest. She ran out behind him, into the woods.
“Hey!”
In the dark, her feet flying underneath her. Landing on soft pine cones. Kicking up branches and undergrowth. Hitting a tree stump. She flew forward, her face hit the ground, her teeth rang as they clanged together. She scrambled to get up again.
“Don’t move!” It was Terry, his proximity making her jump. Although nothing compared to the fright when a shot pierced the still night. She was sure her heart stopped for a second. “Turn around, slowly,” said Terry, his voice quieter.
She turned around to face him, he was only yards away from her. Again nothing but a tall figure in the darkness.
“Arms up,” he said. She raised her arms.
Chris appeared by Terry’s side. “Look at this,” he said, passing something out of the back pack. Small and flat. Chris held his torch up to illuminate the photo of Adam.
“You know this lad?” said Terry to Sarah.
“She’s got a fucking photo of him, what do you think?” said Chris.
“Come on,” said Terry. “Dalby’ll want to talk to you.”
Sarah opened her eyes. They hurt. Bright lights bore into the back of her eyes. She snapped her eyes shut again.
A few seconds of bliss, no memory, no idea where she was.
The first thing was the pain in her head. Aching, skull splitting pain that originated from the deepest parts of her brain. Every thought hurt.
Her arms were next. Throbbing, she tried to move them, but it was too much. Her legs were the same. Breathing hurt. She took in a breath, and her ribs creaked in agony. Her chest rasped and rattled. It was all too much effort.
The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker Page 22
