The farmer climbed back into the Land Rover and Mike checked left and right before opening the gate. The vehicles began to creep through one by one.
“Joseph says we’ve got to go through a small village up ahead,” Mike said as Lucy pulled him back on to the truck.
“Well, we were going to have to at some stage, I guess,” Lucy said, double-checking that the Browning was still in easy reach underneath the tarpaulin. They drove past a road sign: “Billington 1”. “At least we’re not guessing how far any more,” she said, drawing the Glock from the back of her jeans.
Joseph put his hazard warning lights on as the first houses came into view, and Mike and Lucy stood to attention, taking in every detail, every movement.
A row of quaint white cottages stood proudly on one side of the lane, their small neat front gardens bursting with colour, the floral aroma palpable in the warm morning air. Thatched roofs and leaded windows leant intimations of another time and another world. Lucy had her Glock ready. She felt a sense of guilt that such a beautiful setting would now have to be treated like anywhere else. Behind every wall, every hedge, up every small alleyway, the enemy could be waiting to pounce. It didn’t matter if it was a picturesque village or an urban slum, everywhere was the same now.
The convoy passed the houses, disregarding the thirty miles per hour speed limit. Curtains twitched, but no-one and nothing came out to greet or confront them. Maybe the village had remained free of infection, maybe they had not succumbed to any raiding parties. Or maybe they’d dealt with their infected only to be robbed and brutalised by their fellow man, so now they just hid in their homes like terrified children, praying that the vehicles wouldn’t stop.
Tracey placed the shotgun back on the floor. She had picked it up when she had seen the sign for the village, and she had held it firmly in her sweating hands hoping she would not have to use it. She let out a sigh of relief. Samantha noticeably loosened her tense shoulders and began to sob.
“God, I hope this place is everything Joseph says it is,” Tracey said, lifting her hand in front of her to see it visibly shaking. When she didn’t get a response she turned to look towards her companion. “What’s wrong?”
Samantha wiped the tears from her cheeks with the ball of her hand and sniffed. “I... I just don’t know how much more I can take... I’m not cut out for this...”
“Not many people are.”
“Some are,” Samantha said, looking towards the truck as it headed round a bend out of the village.
“It’ll get easier when we get there,” Tracey said, extending her hand to Samantha’s shoulder.
“You can’t really believe that. You can’t really believe that, Tracey. This is purgatory, and there’s only one way out.”
Tracey withdrew her hand. “Don’t talk like that. You’re stronger than that. You’re better than that. People are depending on you.”
Samantha sniffed again but said nothing.
They left the village behind and headed into the quiet of the countryside, the peace punctuated only by the sound of the vehicles and the birds in the trees and hedgerows. It wasn’t long before the Land Rover slowed down to a stop and flicked on the left indicator. Mike jumped down and opened the gate. They were back on a farm track. He gratefully shut the sturdy steel barrier behind them, climbed back on board the truck and the small flotilla set sail once again.
“This is going a hell of a lot smoother than I expected,” Mike said as the truck bounced up and down on the dry uneven dirt track.
“You ever heard of tempting fate, Mikey?”
Suddenly, Mike saw movement. Two 4x4 vehicles were speeding across the opposite side of the field. The engines revved louder as they picked up more speed, reached the corner of the field and started down on an intercept course.
“Oh, shit!” Mike said as he reached for the shotgun, simultaneously banging on the roof of the truck. At first Beth was surprised by the loud noise, and then she saw the vehicles too. She flashed her lights on and off repeatedly to signal her father, who slowed down to a stop.
Mike and Lucy headed straight to the caravan and got Alice and the children out and over the dry stone wall edging the track they were taking. Mike ran along to the other vehicles. He instructed Emma to take the shotgun and go over the wall with Alice and the children, while the rest of the group took cover behind and underneath the truck and caravan, ready for a shoot-out.
Lucy joined Mike on the ground underneath the truck. Her Glock was tucked into the back of her jeans. She was aiming the shotgun, and she had put a small handful of shells between them for easy reach.
“So, Mikey, how smooth do you think it’s going now?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The first black Range Rover came to a halt. All the doors opened simultaneously and four gun-wielding figures emerged. The second car stopped and five more figures appeared. All of them spread out, their weapons pointed towards the convoy.
“We don’t want any trouble, but you need to get off this land now.” It was the voice of an older man with a strong Yorkshire accent.
“Philip, is that you?” Joseph shouted, his voice less croaky now.
“Who’s asking?”
Joseph stood up from behind the front of the truck. He put his weapon on top of the bonnet and walked out with his hands raised. “Philip, it’s Joseph from Mead Hall Farm.”
“Lower your weapons,” Philip shouted, as he walked towards the familiar face. The two men extended hands and shook firmly, and the parties on both sides relaxed and disarmed.
“You’re one of the last people I expected to see here, Joseph. What gives?” Philip asked, still clutching his friend’s hand.
“We’re heading to Candleton, to my brother’s place. We’re doing our best to avoid roads where we can. I’m sorry for the trespass, Philip, but it’s rough out there.” Joseph relinquished his grip.
“Two groups have tried to attack us. Thankfully, we’ve got a lot of farmhands and they all know how to use a gun, so we’ve been able to repel them. We thought you... well, we didn’t know what you were doing, but we weren’t going to take any risks. One of my workers had a house in Billington. A gang attacked the village, took what they needed and left a number of them dead. He escaped up here with his family.” Philip paused and looked behind his old friend to the figures emerging from behind and underneath the stopped vehicles. “Where are your lot?” he asked, scanning the faces as the bodies emerged.
Joseph looked down to the ground. “My two eldest lads didn’t make it. Neither did my son-in-law. Beth and Annie were kidnapped, but these people we’re travelling with saved them. They saved us.” Although his words suggested a huge level of gratefulness, his tired eyes spoke only of the pain as he looked back at his friend.
A frown appeared across Philip’s large weather beaten face. “I’m so sorry, Joseph.”
Mike and Lucy approached the two men. Introductions were made and not so much pleasantries as acknowledgements were exchanged. Joseph turned to his two travelling companions.
“Philip has just been telling me that before all the trouble started they were due to start work on a National Trust visitor’s centre and trail about five miles north of here. There’s nothing on the map, but there are plenty of dirt tracks and makeshift roads where all the surveyors and planners have been sketching it out. He reckons we could take those dirt roads and it would bring us out roughly eight miles south of Candleton.” Joseph was enthusiastic as he reported his news. He turned back to Philip. “You’d be welcome to come with us.”
Mike and Lucy didn’t react visibly, but their hearts sank as the words left Joseph’s mouth.
“That’s very kind, Joseph, but this is my home and I’m not leaving it for anyone. We’ve got a good supply of food and fuel. We’ve got workers to harvest crops and defend the place. God willing, we’ll ride this out here, and maybe when things return to something a bit more like normal, we’ll pop up to Candleton and pay you a visit. We might trade some
wheat for a bit of that bread and butter pudding your missus makes.” The pair cracked a smile as they recalled happier days, and Philip extended his hand once more. “The very best of luck to you, Joseph, to all of you,” he said, looking towards Lucy and Mike as he spoke.
“Thank you, Philip. May God go with you,” Joseph replied before letting go of his friend’s hand and walking back to the Land Rover.
*
Just as Philip had described, there was a road sign stating “Heavy plant crossing” and a few metres after it, a right turn into a tarmac car park with several Portakabins and a small array of abandoned machines. Between the two temporary buildings at the end of the tarmac was the start of a wide gravel road rising into the distance. Joseph headed towards it and hit the trail with a satisfying scrape and clunk. Small stones flicked up and clattered against the chassis. Every minute he travelled he was getting closer to his brother, getting his family closer to safety. It was good fortune to have run into his old friend, and this shortcut would not only save them time but also reduce the risks of them being attacked.
The road rose higher into the beautiful green hillside. Occasionally one of the vehicles would skid a little where a small section of track crumbled away, but it didn’t matter; they were not planning on retracing their steps. This was a one-way journey.
Mike looked across at Lucy who was trying to take in the view with her hands tucked underneath her armpits. She wasn’t shivering, but it wouldn’t be long before she was. He unzipped his coat, flicked it off his shoulders and hooked it over hers, taking her by surprise.
“I’m not one to say I told you so,” he said, smiling.
“No way, Mike, you need this more than me, you’ve only got a T-shirt.” Lucy began to take the coat off in protest, but Mike placed a firm hand over hers and shook his head.
She gratefully accepted and zipped the coat up. Mike’s warmth, still present in the coat’s lining, quickly heated the blood in her veins. She grabbed the back of the cab tightly, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a gentleman, Mike. There weren’t too many of them around even before this happened. Your mom and dad would be proud of how you turned out.” Lucy smiled as she looked across at her companion and placed her hand over his as they both held onto the cab.
“My real dad was a wife-abusing, child-beating chronic alcoholic who cared for no-one but himself. He would never have given a damn how I turned out. But Alex, my stepdad, he was a good man, one of the greats. If he thought for a second I was standing with a coat on my back while there was a lady next to me shivering, I’d have got a friendly clout round my ear and he’d have taken my jacket off for me, just so I remembered what to do the next time.” Mike allowed himself a small chuckle and Lucy joined in.
“He sounds like a lovely guy,” Lucy said.
“He was. If it wasn’t for Alex, I don’t know how I would have ended up. I got my temper from my real dad, I know that much, and if Alex hadn’t come along to keep me in check I think I could have been a very different person now.” Mike looked out towards the trees on the other side of the valley.
Lucy rubbed her thumb gently over his hand. “I don’t think so, Mike. I think the good inside you would have come out, whoever raised you.” Their eyes met, and for a split second there was something there beyond friendship, beyond the shared experience of the last few days. The truck shuddered over another pothole and Lucy lost her footing. Mike swung his arm around her waist and caught her. Their faces froze in time, inches apart. Their eyes stole each other’s image and both held their breath, wondering what would come next, but then abruptly came to their senses. “Thanks,” she said, her cheeks beginning to flush.
“You’re welcome.” He smiled and helped her regain full balance then resumed tight hold of the back of the cab.
Joseph noticed an expansive turning point up ahead. He had drained the bottle of water in order to quell the itchiness in his throat, but now he was parched again and hungry, and thinking about it, he needed to pee too. This was a good place for a pit stop. He flicked on the indicator and the convoy slowly rolled to a halt in the siding.
Everybody dismounted, grateful for the respite. Lucy returned Mike’s jacket and went to the ambulance to find hers. Everyone else met up at the caravan and Alice put a large pan on the stove and emptied several cans of chicken soup into it.
Boulders were scattered around the edges of the turning point, and as each of them was served their mug of soup along with a handful of dry crackers, they dispersed to the various rocks to enjoy the food.
“Wasn’t there enough soup for you, Mike?” Tracey asked, seeing that all he had to eat was the dry crackers.
“My brother’s a vegetarian,” Sammy answered for him. “That means he doesn’t eat meat.”
All the adults smiled at the young girl as she proudly explained to Tracey what a vegetarian was, genuinely believing she didn’t know.
“So, Mike, what made you stop eating meat?” asked Tracey.
“I just couldn’t justify it any more,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“What do you mean, couldn’t justify it?” she replied.
“Five years ago, Alex and I were coming back from London and we stopped to get a bite to eat at Watford Gap services. There was one of those huge animal transport trailers, you know, the ‘double-deckers’? We walked past it and saw that the sheep could barely move. They were bleating pitifully. The poor little things were terrified. They were in cruel, filthy, horrific conditions and were probably heading to the abattoir. I cursed the driver, the farmer and the owner of the slaughterhouse for allowing it. That night I couldn’t sleep, and it dawned on me that by continuing to eat meat I was just as responsible as they were. So I decided from that point on that I didn’t want their suffering on my conscience.”
He took another bite of his cracker.
“So, you think we’re terrible for drinking this chicken soup?” Tracey asked, earnestly.
“My brother and my sisters are drinking it. Alex and my mum ate meat and I didn’t and don’t think any less of them. Would I prefer it if people didn’t eat meat? Yes, of course I would, but it’s a decision each individual has to make.” He smiled sincerely at Tracey, who instinctively looked down at her mug of soup with a guilty expression on her face.
Joseph was crouching near the caravan, squeezing the tyres like he was in a supermarket checking for a ripe melon.
“Is everything okay, Joseph?” Lucy asked as she approached to return her empty mug.
“I hope so. These aren’t really designed for this type of terrain. It’ll be playing hell with the suspension.”
“Do you think it’ll make it?” she asked with concern.
“Let’s pray it does,” he replied, the back of his throat beginning to scratch again. He stood up and rubbed his lower leg and calf.
“Are you okay, Joseph?” she inquired, falling back into her role as doctor.
“Pins and needles. I was crouched down too long, that’s all.” Joseph walked across to the group and announced that it was time to get underway once more.
The tyres of all the vehicles made the ground crackle as the gravel fidgeted beneath the moving rubber. The convoy was underway again but this time descending rather than climbing the beautiful hilly countryside.
Mike nudged Lucy and pointed diagonally ahead at a small plume of smoke. “I’m guessing that’s Skelton.”
“Well, at least we won’t have that nightmare to go through, thanks to Joseph’s friend.”
The lead car came to a skidding halt and the vehicles following it jerked to a standstill, spraying gravel.
“What is it?” Lucy shouted as Joseph climbed out of the car.
“There’s no more bloody track,” he replied.
Mike and Lucy jumped down from the truck. “What do you mean, Joseph?” Lucy asked.
“Look for yourself. They never got any further than this. The trail just heads down there.” Joseph pointed to the right. “That will take
us back out onto the road about three miles south of Skelton.” He shook his head as he spoke.
“Joseph. I don’t understand. Didn’t your friend say this would take us eight miles south of Candleton? Surely there must be another way around?” Mike asked, bewildered.
“They obviously weren’t as far on with the development as was rumoured,” Joseph replied bitterly.
“So what are our options?” Lucy asked.
“We’re out of options. We can’t go back the way we’ve come. I don’t think the caravan could take it. We’re going to have to go down the track, head north and get through the town centre as fast as we can. Hopefully we won’t run into too many of those things if we can make it through quickly enough.” As soon as Joseph stopped speaking, Mike’s shoulders dropped as if they were being held by puppet strings that had suddenly been cut.
Joseph walked off and knocked on each driver’s window to explain the situation.
“Is it just me or is that the worst fucking plan you’ve ever heard?” Mike said.
As they moved off this time, no-one was marvelling at the green and pleasant surrounds. The track was bumpier than the previous one, and all the vehicles shook wildly from side to side as they descended the last part of the hill and made the transition to flat fields. There were traces of efforts to make the track more passable, but clearly this makeshift road had not been travelled on for some time. It was similar to the farmer’s fields they had passed through earlier in the day, but where those had had good drainage and heavily worn tracks from use by multiple farm vehicles, here the trails had worn thin, and heavy rains from previous weeks had left debris on the pathway. They crawled to a stop at a large galvanised steel gate. Beyond lay the grey tarmac of the road to Skelton. Mike jumped down and pulled the bolt across. There was a clang as the gate creaked back. Mike made his way back to the truck; there was little point in closing this one behind them. There were no farmers or crops to protect, merely a broken promise of safe passage.
Safe Haven (Book 1): Rise of the Rams Page 21
