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Hope: After It Happened Book 4

Page 10

by Devon C. Ford


  Lexi said nothing and strode outside dragging the two large backpacks. She upended the bags and regarded the contents strewn across the ground, sifting through them with her foot as she pulled a face at the smell.

  She went back inside, having done nothing to search their belongings effectively other than to display her power like a dominant ape.

  “Names,” she ordered them.

  “I’m Ben,” said the alert one and indicated at the half-asleep man next to him, “that’s Will. We’re brothers.”

  Lexi said nothing in response, merely looked around for Matty. Finding him, she gave instructions for them to be brought back to the house and cleaned up before being told to wait in the dining room.

  “I’ll leave Paul with you to make sure everyone is safe,” she added as she strode to her vehicle to assemble the council.

  “And don’t let them out of your sight,” she warned her partner as she climbed behind the wheel.

  Ben and Will laughed as they enjoyed their first hot showers in as long as they could recall. Paul had sent Matty back to the gardens, embarrassed over Lexi’s behaviour, and he didn’t want to be forced into a discussion about it. He knew that her rudeness was due to her own insecurity, and that Dan’s easy manner was borne of a confidence in being the most dangerous person in the room. Usually.

  He listened to the two young men who, now clean and beardless, appeared to be in their early twenties. Their back and forth repartee was amusing, and Paul guessed they had bickered and mocked each other in such a loving way since they could walk. He liked them, and he knew nothing about them yet.

  “Come on lads, speed it up please!” he said to them as there became more banter than washing going on. They reluctantly dried themselves off, laughed at their pale chins and cheeks as they had been sunburned before they had shaved, and dressed in the comfortable grey prison tracksuits as always seemed to be given to the newest arrivals.

  Giggling quietly between themselves they followed Paul downstairs and into the dining hall. Cara had supplied a small snack buffet as she liked to do with all newcomers, although she hadn’t had much opportunity recently. The two men looked between Cara and Paul for permission and when nodded towards the food they flew in to gorge themselves. They clearly hadn’t eaten properly for a long time. Noises of child-like joy escaped from one as he found a small tray of puff pastry sweet treats, holding one aloft as though he were blessing his brother with a holy relic. Their joy was infectious, but both Cara and Paul’s amusement at their happiness was stifled when the door opened and the council members entered.

  Cara became sensible and sat down at her usual place at the larger table, and was joined by Lexi, Lizzie, Andrew and Mike.

  Paul went to take his leave until Lexi ordered him to stay.

  “No, keep an eye on them,” she said, simultaneously embarrassing him again and making herself look overly churlish. Paul held his tongue. Her attempts at trying to let everyone know she had power were starting to wear thin on him already.

  “Welcome!” exclaimed Mike to the nervous subjects of discussion. “I hope you’re feeling better now for being clean and eating.”

  Ben was paused with a pastry halfway in his mouth and was torn between taking it out or finishing the action. Having been raised not to show people the contents of your mouth at the dinner table, he bit down on it and chewed. He looked at his brother for any kind of backup, but it seemed that Will was content to let Ben do all the talking.

  Painfully slowly, he chewed until he could force the pastry down in one painful swallow. Unfortunately, this forced him to require a drink to wash it down and prevent him choking, resulting in twenty seconds of very awkward silence until he finally answered Mike’s question.

  “Yes. Thank you,” he said lamely, completely undermining the gravity of the time it took him to think of what to say.

  The assembled faces allowed themselves to crack into smiles at the stupidity of the exchange, all except Lexi who scowled at them.

  Their story emerged, haltingly, having to be extracted piecemeal at times. They were brothers. Will was at university in York and Ben worked in an office in Leeds. When it happened Will told Ben to stay put and that he was coming to get him. They had wandered from place to place ever since, caching supplies and moving on whenever other people threatened their safety. They had no real purpose or aim, they were just waiting to be told what to do by someone. A few tales of hiding and running away from gangs were told, and after the first winter they decided to stay away from towns and wander the rural places instead. That’s where they found the rifle.

  “So you’ve just been moving from house to house, living off what you could find for all this time?” asked Lizzie.

  The two men looked at each other, as though they had one collective mind.

  “Yeah,” they chorused.

  Almost stunned by their apparent simplicity, Mike moved on to the subject of them staying. Again, their trademark eye contact followed by another affirmative chorus.

  “So what can you do?” said Lexi quietly, trying to mimic Dan’s presence when he spoke softly but everyone realised he was angry.

  “We both climb, we’re good at that,” said Will.

  “I meant what can you do to help around here?” she replied coolly. “What use are you?”

  Grasping the meaning of the only person who didn’t seem to want them there, Will thought before answering in a measured voice.

  “We’ve survived for almost two years. We’ve been chased, hunted, but never found. We can get in and out of places and people don’t even know we’ve been there. We’ve stolen supplies right out of the pockets of the people who were looking to take ours. So, that’s what we can do. If you need scouts, we can do that.”

  He sat back, pleased with his speech, and surveyed the room.

  They were all convinced, all except the one with the gun on her chest.

  “Thank you both,” said Mike. “Paul? Could you please show them into the lounge? I’m sure they don’t need to be watched any more.”

  Paul nodded his head for them to follow, which they did, taking as much of the food in front of them as they could manage. Will looked back and smiled as best he could with his arms full and a plastic cup held in his teeth.

  The door closed. Mike turned to Lexi.

  “You said you needed two new Rangers. There they are,” he said.

  The murmurs of agreement from all the others made her almost burst with rage.

  “We don’t know them! At all!” she exclaimed loudly. “They could be anyone from anywhere, have you considered that? What if they are from another group and want inside knowledge on how to take this place?” She stood as she tried to make the others see reason.

  “I’m sure we’re past all that kind of thing by now,” Mike said dismissively.

  In truth, her protestations would have been better received if she hadn’t become a brooding, angry woman who seemed desperate to stamp her authority. She had cried wolf, and now the others wouldn’t listen to her.

  “I’m telling you all right now; this is a bad idea and I don’t trust them,” she said, getting up and leaving the room.

  SANCTUARY

  After a rough night spent anchored in the centre of the wide inlet, almost everyone was feeling some ill effect at being sleep deprived and nauseous.

  Dan had roused the group as the sun rose, breakfast was eaten, and they were underway before the glowing orb was fully visible on the horizon.

  Very little talking and even less laughter was heard; they were all worn out by the last few days. Dan knew they needed to get to land and regroup. He had checked on his teenage ninja first thing, finding her stiff as the pain had travelled from her head to her neck. Kate had dosed her up well enough but firmly declared that she wasn’t fit for duty for a week. Both Dan and Leah took that to mean a couple of days at the most, but he carefully avoided any mention of an early recovery and told the girl to rest. Ash still snored against her leg, the se
dative having worked well.

  He climbed to the flight deck and asked his co-captains to take them out. For the second time they didn’t expect, they were going back out to sea. Hopefully for the last time.

  Sailing towards the rising sun, they had to turn slightly north to get around the headland as they passed the bigger French coastal towns. Soon land became visible in the far distance to their port side; the iconic slash of white belonging to the Dover cliffs sparking mixed emotions in many. Dan wondered if he declared that they had had enough fun and were going home, just how many would be happy with that.

  He pushed it from his mind as the sea walls of Calais ferry port came into view. Cruising past they saw a similar sight to the other large ports, with huge vessels slowly dying of neglect. He thought that the docks would be a goldmine for scavenging, but could not afford the risks or the delay. Another hour saw them further along the coast and out of French waters. As Bruges approached, Dan consulted the map feverishly with Mitch to be sure they were planning to turn inland at the best place.

  “I say we do it,” he said to the soldier, “go inland here to Antwerp.”

  “Sounds good to me!” replied Mitch.

  NO CHANGE

  Lizzie had been forced to resort to placing a feeding tube into Steve’s nose and down into his stomach. He’d been out too long to be without sustenance now, and she was painfully reminded of having to care for the terminally ill and elderly in her previous life.

  Steve’s perpetual state of unconsciousness was becoming a worry to everyone. It had been almost a week and he hadn’t moved at all. She could still see no obvious reason for it; the head injury hadn’t seemed catastrophic, in fact she doubted whether it had fractured his skull much at all. The internal bleeding hadn’t spread as there was no swelling or livid bruising, plus if it had she reasoned that he would probably be dead by now. The leg looked gruesome, but should heal.

  She wasn’t so ignorant to what was happening to the group, despite spending nearly all her time in medical. She had checked out the two new arrivals. The two young men were declared to be in good physical condition despite being told they were found close to death from dehydration. Although the two were a couple of years apart in ages, they were so similar that they could have passed for twins. The older of the two seemed to be their joint spokesperson, which she found odd, but she took their medical histories and gave them the stamp of approval.

  Some disagreement in between other council members left the question of their employment up in the air. It seemed that Lexi didn’t want them, and was happy to try and half train some sort of militia to be called on at times of need. None of the candidates were particularly enthusiastic about it.

  Andrew had employed the two under the umbrella of Logistics to be scouts, and orders were given that they be armed from their healthy stock of weaponry. The two now moved feely amongst the whole group, weapons on their hips, and were the cause of much excitement. Nobody new had been seen in a while.

  She was too busy, too distracted, to think any more on their arrival and appointments.

  When, if, Steve woke up then he would surely know what to do with them and Lexi.

  If.

  WHERE IS BELGIUM, ANYWAY?

  Leah’s question had many answers to it, some of those now utterly irrelevant.

  “It’s a small country between France and the Netherlands where the European Union used to be,” Dan answered, hoping not to prompt too many follow-up questions from her.

  “Ok,” she said, obviously thinking, “but what do they do there?”

  Neil stepped in to help, speaking from behind the controls of the boat.

  “They make beer, chocolate and waffles and have a very clean subway system,” he said.

  “And it’s where people like to sign peace treaties and stuff,” added Mitch.

  Leah thought about this for a moment.

  “Sounds… nice,” she said, with her trademark inflection of cutting sarcasm before climbing back down to go back inside. She had been allowed to move to get some fresh air, but was still obviously suffering some from the heavy blow to her head. Dan was under strict orders from Kate that she wasn’t allowed out to play for another couple of days. Having never seen her subdued like she was, he planned to let her recover properly.

  Following the land on their right, they left the Channel and followed an endless series of twists and turns as the inlet wound its ponderous way to the open water. Sticking to the centre of the wide stretch after their most recent experience of the continental survivors, they sailed serenely into the heart of Belgium as they avoided similar debris to what they had experienced in France.

  By late afternoon they were flanked on both sides by massive industrial docklands. A never-ending mass of concrete in every direction suddenly opening up to open areas of grass before industry closed in on them again.

  Betraying his nervousness, Dan checked a map over and over until he called his opinion to Neil and Mitch.

  “I reckon Antwerp will be about a mile ahead around the next bend,” he said, without his normal air of confidence. A sheltered port to their right, home to some slowly eroding fishing boats caught his eye.

  “Swing over there, check that place out?” he said.

  Without acknowledgement the boat swung to starboard, cautiously heading into the sheltered bay where a few trawlers sat abandoned. Dan pointed to an empty spot on a jetty with a long walkway leading to land. Mitch brought her in gently as Adam and Dan jumped ashore to secure Hope to the moorings.

  Guns up, he and Adam stalked forward followed by Mitch. Dan would’ve felt more comfortable being backed up by a dog and a child; not that he didn’t have faith in the others but more that he felt most secure with Leah and Ash, but as both of them were out of play he had to have trust in others.

  Dan made solid ground and went to one knee. Mitch fanned out to his left, pointing Adam to go right. Quickly, thoroughly and efficiently, they cleared the immediate surroundings of the dockyard and found nothing to suggest that anyone had been there for months. A green film covered all of the boats on dry land, with obvious signs of neglect everywhere. The three men regrouped and were joined by Neil, having instructed everyone else to stay on the boat. A glance back at the Hope showed a grumpy looking Irishman stood staunch on the deck with his shotgun.

  “Area looks clear,” said Dan to his almost entire military force. “Mitch, Adam, clear that building,” he said, indicating a large single-storey industrial unit.

  “Neil, with me,” he set off, flanked by the older man and intentionally setting a slower pace than he would have for his teenage assassin.

  They cleared the perimeter, finding that they had been very fortunate in randomly choosing a secure compound to moor up in. Relaxing slightly, Dan went back to find the big building was an almost empty hangar. He deployed the other two to clear the three remaining buildings to their left whilst he and Neil cleared the two to the right.

  When they all returned to report no signs of life he lowered his carbine and took a full three-sixty perspective.

  They were now the proud owners of their own fenced compound near Antwerp. Their incursion into the continent had been almost entirely unobstructed and unchallenged. They had safely crossed the Channel.

  The realisation hit Dan like a crashing wave and threatened to invoke something resembling feelings deep inside him. He had to force himself to remain calm and not fall to the earth knowing that they had done what he suspected to be one of the most dangerous parts of their journey.

  Now, to business.

  “Neil, get everyone off and into that building,” he said indicating the single storey warehouse which stood closest to the jetty.

  “When everyone is off, strip the boat of everything and start pumping the diesel into the jerry cans.” He turned to Mitch and Adam, “go around the perimeter again, check for any vehicles inside this compound. After that, get the bikes ashore.”

  He turned away to look inland as th
e men scurried away to their tasks. He heard shouts behind him as the orders to disembark for the final time were given. He even fancied he heard a shout of celebration to mark the end of their water adventures; he had to admit he felt the same.

  They were in Europe, safely on the continent, and now they had to scavenge like experts.

  DIFFERENCE OF OPINION

  “No, it’s decided,” said Mike holding up one hand to staunch Lexi’s flow of objections, “the lads will go and clear the place then call in the logistics team to fill up the wagons.”

  She stood, fighting to contain her fury, and left the room.

  Always, it had been the job of the Rangers to clear and search a location before Logistics cleared it. Always. Now, it seemed, because she objected to the appointment of two people she didn’t trust, they had completely circumvented her authority and armed them anyway. They were what? Logistic Rangers?

  It was bullshit, she told them it was bullshit, and she was ignored.

  She stormed into Ops, startling Rich, and fumed at him that Dan would never have been ignored like they had just done to her. If he had raised objections to anything then she was pretty damn sure that he would be listened to, and obeyed.

  “I mean, he dragged someone out of here who he said was a bloody paedophile and he was never seen again!” she raged at the bewildered Marine. “Who questioned his authority then? Nobody.”

  Rich averted his eyes, save he give away some notion that he had been totally complicit in the murder of said paedophile. Having heard the confessions himself, he had no doubt as to the man’s guilt. But still, they did just kill him on Dan’s say-so.

  Luckily, Lexi was too angry to notice Rich’s expression and had carried on ranting.

  “This is just what Penny tried to do ages ago; the Rangers are being cut out by the others because they don’t like the answer they were given.” She stopped and stared at him, waiting for an answer or some form of communication other than a blank look.

 

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