She received nothing.
“Fuck this,” she said, throwing her arms in the air before storming out of the office.
“WAIT,” Rich said, investing the word with every bit of authority he used to possess. It was a voice which had cut through battlefields, which tore through recruits and silenced parade squares. It was the voice of a Royal Marine Corporal, and it stopped Lexi in her tracks.
She turned back to him, stunned.
“If you have a problem, then go and fix it. Don’t stand here bitching about what Dan would’ve done; go and do it yourself. You want people to respect your authority? Then earn that respect.”
With that, he turned away and left her open-mouthed in the doorway. He was right, of course. She knew she was acting the brat when she should’ve been emulating that calm authority which she missed so much.
She closed her mouth, turned back towards the dining room and strode in ready to tell them all what she thought.
DRY LAND
“I’m sure you’ll all be sad to abandon the boat,” Dan said to the group as they shuffled close to him, interrupting their business in preparing the warehouse for a brief stay.
“Abandon Hope all ye who enter here!” declared Neil in his best Shakespearean voice. Silence shrouded the whole group as he realised the carelessness in his words.
“Get it? Abandon? Hope?” he tried with a smile, desperately attempting to rescue the joke, “No?” he hung his head and muttered, “Tough crowd.”
“No,” said Dan sarcastically, turning back to the others. “Anyway… We’ve got a secure compound here which we’ll use as a base for a few days to gather supplies and look for vehicles. Marie will sort out the tasks, Neil will organise the rotas for keeping watch. Me and a couple of others will be making runs starting tomorrow to see what we can find.” He looked around the assembled faces. No questions arose.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, Bienvenue en Belgique!” he said loudly and in a terrible accent.
Not all of the group understood, but still a ragged cheer of success rippled around their temporary home. Dan jumped down from his podium and beamed at his group. Truth was, he was happy to have made it here. He scanned the room, his eyes falling on the temporarily fallen and debilitated from their sea crossing.
Ash was groggy and weak from barely eating for three days, Leah lay propped up half asleep from her concussion, and Phil was curled up in a foetal position after a few days of being constantly sick with Jimmy beside him looking no better. Despite the losses, which he assured himself weren’t permanent, they had left their island and got to the continent without tragedy and in some semblance of working order. He called that a win.
Predictably, Henry hovered with a cup of coffee for him which he accepted with as brief a thanks as was polite. The boy was starting to get on his nerves with his idolism. He was well built and strong for his age, but there was such an immaturity to him that it irked Dan. Thirteen-year-old Leah was more sensible and switched-on than most adults, so maybe he thought her achievements were making him judge the boy more harshly.
No. There was no room for tourists or baggage on this trip, and the lad had chosen to come despite being told he couldn’t. Dan would have to have a word in private with him soon and lay out his responsibilities very plainly.
Food was prepared, supplies were stacked and inventoried, the guard was set and they were safe on dry land. Dan finally allowed himself to relax.
He wandered through the group, talking to people as he wound his way amongst them, aiming for Leah. When he reached her, his heart sank. She did not look well. Her pale skin prickled with sweat and her eyes were closed tightly. She was surrounded by Marie, Kate and Sera all of whom were tending to her in different ways. It was evident how badly the blow to the head had affected her. Sensing his own discomfort, Ash whined pitifully and pushed his huge head in between the women to nuzzle at the girl.
Dan saw a spark of her personality shine through then; despite the pain she was in, she still managed a crooked half-smile as she told the worried dog she had no food for him. He would’ve spoken to her, laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder or something to try and comfort her only there was no room around her.
Instead, he reverted to the only other way he knew to fix a problem; direct action. His mind was made up as soon as he had seen her. As a group, they were in pretty rough shape after the last few days, and progress would just have to wait until they were all fully fit.
Snapping his fingers to summon Ash, he turned on his heel and walked speedily for the exit, almost knocking a grinning Henry to the floor as he was stood so close, and spilling the remaining coffee down both of them. Dan’s temper, affected by lack of sleep and worry for Leah, finally broke.
He swore loudly at the boy, shoving him in the chest and sending him sprawling backwards as he threw down the tin cup in frustrated tantrum.
“Every bloody time I turn around, you’re in my face!” he yelled at him, too stressed and angry to realise he was terrifying him and others around them. As suddenly as the fury was on him it evaporated, leaving only the hollow emptiness of unnecessary anger behind. Too tired to explain or apologise, he stepped around his unfortunate victim and left the building.
Stomping away to the jetty where the Hope was moored he sat and dangled his feet from the walkway as he smoked. Ash lay down and watched him from as close as he could get whilst still remaining firmly on dry land.
Dan felt bad for his outburst. He felt bad for scaring the boy; as annoying as he could be he didn’t deserve what had just happened. He reflected on the advice he had been given about bullies when he was child and about the advice he had given schoolchildren when he had cause to speak to them as a police officer.
The concept of a bully acting out because of their own fear and insecurity was suddenly so apparently true to him that it almost hurt.
His miserable introspection was halted as Neil approached. Dan had no doubt that he had seen the incident inside but couldn’t bring himself to raise the subject out of embarrassment.
With a symphony of groans and cracking joints Neil lowered himself to sit beside Dan. Silence hung for a few beats, no doubt as Neil decided the best way to say what he had come to say.
“I’m guessing we’ll want to stay here for a few days until everyone settles?” he said, reading Dan’s transparent thoughts.
“Yes,” he replied, staring into the green-scummy water of rocky shallows beneath his feet. “Double check the perimeter is secure, twenty-four-seven lookouts. We’ll start Ranging on the bikes tomorrow in pairs to find supplies and vehicles. Three, four days, tops?”
Neil nodded, and for once had nothing more to say. He stayed where he was for a moment, no doubt dreading the return journey to his feet after feeling how stiff and sore the journey had made his body feel so far. Eventually, and with just as much noise, he got back up and walked back to the building, telling Dan over his shoulder that he’ll get Mitch and Adam to do the perimeter.
Dan sat in silence for a while until his restless dog started making noises from the artificial shore. Flicking away the end of his cigarette, he climbed back to his feet and set about the job of securing their small fishing compound and making it defensible during their stay.
As Mitch and Adam went along the fence line meticulously looking for signs of weakness or damage, Dan set about some temporary top cover. Scanning the skyline in their small corner of home, he only saw two places where the height advantage would be sufficient to see all around them. The roof of a building didn’t fill him with confidence as he doubted it would sustain anyone’s weight, especially after months of neglect.
The other option might have turned the stomachs of some, however. The biggest of the fishing boats moored in their man-made harbour had a large centre mast with a crow’s nest at the very top. It was the best vantage point for hundreds of yards in any direction, and someone up there with a rifle could protect them easily. Despite Dan’s healthy respect for gravity and his d
islike at being too far off the ground, he climbed the welded steel rungs of the ladder to reach the top. Luckily the size of the boat made it feel far sturdier in the water and it wallowed and pitched far less than their yacht did. Breathing heavily, he made it through the opening and into the wide metal basket. Trying not to look down, he used the scope of his carbine to scan the terrain. Satisfied that it was the best option despite the difficulty in reaching it he ran through plans for manning the nest and what shifts they should take until he could delay no more.
With a resigned sigh, he went to climb carefully back down and ask Mitch to take over the watch. He happily agreed, too quickly in fact, and interrupted Dan to show him a patch of brown pellets on the dusty ground just outside the fence.
“Deer?” asked Dan, his stomach’s thoughts pushing to the head of the queue.
“I reckon so,” replied Mitch excitedly.
“Suppressed weapons only,” Dan replied, “I don’t want to be attracting too much attention if we can avoid it.”
Calling everyone back inside, he laid out the plans. Mitch would take shifts in the nest during daylight and others would do night duty; this sentry duty may have to fall to the non-combatants, Dan warned, in order to allow others some much needed sleep. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than burning out through exhaustion.
Barrels and other obstacles were dragged into positions to allow defensible cover should they need it, and Dan added a word of caution to the group that there were signs of animals around and not to worry if they heard shooting as it would probably be their dinner. A sudden flash of white met Dan’s eyes when he mentioned fresh meat as the faces looking at him broke into smiles. Already a large fire was burning inside a contraption of metal and concrete which jack had spent hours preparing, and the first gutted fish were being laid onto the mesh as tins were heated alongside them.
The combination of a purpose, some small excitement, and dry land were already having a positive effect on everyone. Dan guessed it was overdue having that discussion with Henry, although now it would have to start with a heartfelt apology.
NEW BLOOD
The twins, as everyone called them, achieved celebrity status almost immediately. The group flocked around them to hear their stories, and everyone wanted to volunteer on their daily supply runs.
They were leading people further away than was necessary in Lexi’s opinion, and an awkward moment ensued when one of them – she couldn’t tell them apart – asked to use her Discovery so that they could be more comfortable. The look of pure loathing she gave them only prompted laughter, which didn’t improve her opinion of them.
She still didn’t trust them, nor did she like their over-familiar attitudes towards people. She found herself wondering what Penny would’ve made of them; mincemeat, was the likely answer. Two impertinent, loud and rude young men would not have been tolerated by the stern woman, and Lexi could almost imagine their faces as she sat them down to be reprimanded.
Only Penny wouldn’t be able to do that.
Penny was dead, Dan was gone, Steve was in a coma and Lexi was losing control of the group. The Rangers had been crippled after the group split, and when Steve crashed the helicopter she had been left completely on her own. Now, the gullible council had been sucked into the bullshit the two newcomers were spouting. They were lapping it up, and had given them power, authority, guns and the run of the whole place.
She asked Rich his opinion about them, but he was tight-lipped and barely answered other than to nod in agreement or shake his head. She pretended not to notice that he had been drinking sometimes, as much as it worried her, but to turn on one of the few who would still support her didn’t seem like a sensible play. She knew the ship was sinking, and she had to decide whether to be a rat or not.
EYE IN THE SKY
Mitch was happy. Mitch was usually amused by everything and rarely felt upset or annoyed, but despite his years as a professional soldier he actually felt excited about what they were doing right then.
He was in the crow’s nest on the boat, looking down on the small compound being temporarily fortified. What he really wanted to see was a herd of deer strolling past and he scanned the countryside repeatedly hoping for such a sight. This constant search for food served to keep him alert in all directions.
He had the big battle rifle beside him, but that would be heard for miles around on a still day like it was. Instead he used his suppressed carbine similar to Dan’s to methodically search the ground. He never thought of himself as such, but Mitch was a man of very small comforts who needed little to keep him going.
That was one of the reasons for his happiness; he was well equipped, he had food and water, and he had a purpose. He was comfortable enough, but having never spent every evening sat in the comfort of his own home on his own sofa then the experience was relative he supposed. He watched as Dan started up a motorbike with Neil doing the same alongside him. Mitch saw that they only had their basic personal equipment with them, and guessed it was purely a short reconnaissance mission; anything they saw which they wanted could be collected with a plan that way. The rolling gate which formed part of the fence squealed horribly like a tortured metal animal as they two men on bikes were waved off, only for the agonising sound to reach his ears again as the gate was secured.
So offended was he by the noise that he reached for the small radio beside the big rifle.
“Adam, Mitch,” he said curtly, repeating it twice out of habit.
“Yo!” came the response a second later. Mitch buried his instinctive non-commissioned officer’s reaction to poor radio discipline, and gently reminded himself that there was no British Army any longer and this kid wasn’t really a soldier. He took a breath and answered him without overreacting.
“Grab a couple more pairs of hands and search the buildings for any kind of oil, will you?” he said.
“Oil?” came the bewildered response as Adam stopped and turned to face the direction of the crow’s nest. Mitch could see him clearly because of the zoom on his optic, but he was fairly certain Adam wouldn’t be able to make out anything other than a small shape.
“Yes,” he replied, allowing some annoyance to creep into his voice as though he were talking to a child who was being intentionally obtuse. “Some oil. Any kind of oil really, as long as it stops those gates from waking the dead next time they open. Understood?” he finished sarcastically.
Adam understood. Sketching a salute in Mitch’s general direction he turned to do as he had been told.
Now that small interruption was over, he turned back to look for any sign of fresh meat as the group below busied themselves making their little corner of the world more comfortable. Wooden pallets were being carried into the building, no doubt to fashion some kind of furniture. A few people had been equipped by Jack, who was still busy cooking the enormous seafood barbecue medley, and sent with the discarded pieces of fish to use as bait for yet more fresh produce. Mitch could see Henry, Pip, Jimmy and Sera talking happily as they dangled their legs off the jetty while they fished.
He saw Emma pacing by herself at the side of the building, talking with her hands as she explained something to the small digital recorder she always carried with her. He liked that about her; it was her thing to always be keeping some kind of record of what they were doing.
What, or more specifically who, he couldn’t see caused him some concern. The kid was tough and he liked her a lot. For him to trust teenagers who had been trained by the Army was difficult enough for him, but he never questioned her ability or dedication after he had seen her work. He thought it was human nature, although the clever people would probably have a name for a syndrome or something. He saw it simply that she was a natural survivor and a fast learner; when coupled with a strong mentor and good instruction then she excelled. She was, in his opinion, a fantastic little killer.
Only she was pretty badly banged up right now, and having never seen her cry or act like a kid he doubted it was anything sho
rt of serious. In fact, he was sure that the same knock to the head would’ve put himself or Dan out of action.
A man of very private faith, he uttered a short prayer under his breath for her speedy recovery and hoped that the great lump of a dog was keeping watch over her. As well as Kate, obviously.
A glance over the scope told him that there were probably four hours of daylight left, and as per the standard operating procedures he had followed with unwavering indoctrination for many years, he would remain at his post until after the sun was fully down.
That gave him a few hours to find something for them to eat.
BORN TO BE WILD
Dan didn’t feel at all like a wild biker, but Neil had sung the song out loud for the first mile of their trip inland – at least the words he knew of it – and even over the sound of their bikes Dan couldn’t get the damned tune out of his head.
Despite Neil’s levity they travelled cautiously, being mindful not to stumble blindly into anyone’s territory and invite a negative reaction. Dan supposed that was what the world had reverted to now; territory. Each group, formed out of a deep instinctive understanding that numbers equalled safety, had laid claim to their own small patch of the world just as they had done, and would defend their people and their resources against anyone else.
Humans, at least in most parts of the world he guessed, had become both predator and prey.
Cruising along smooth, open roads they passed industrial areas interspersed with open fields. Each building they approached prompted them to slow and assess it for signs of human activity and to check if they could see anything on their shopping list.
Dan ran through that list again in his head. It was simple; vehicles, fuel, food and water. All things which would have been very easy to come by before and immediately after the world changed, but now nature had begun the slow offensive to take back everything created by man, the availability of resources was dwindling.
Hope: After It Happened Book 4 Page 11
