by Jon Grahame
‘Don’t the people still believe in you? Have you tried to oppose him?’
‘I threatened to. He had me whipped on the high altar at the Minster. Told the congregation I had begged for punishment, that I was still attempting to rid myself of sin. It was very persuasive claptrap with me prostrate and being beaten. Said I had set an example, that others found wanting or in commission of sin, could hardly expect less. He called the whip the kiss of God.’
‘Couldn’t you do anything?’
‘He threatened Mary and Rebecca. He plans to take them for his own. He wants me to marry them at the Minster on Sunday and confirm him as High Sheriff. He wants them both as his brides. All those years playing mind games have sent him over the brink, Reaper. And God forgive me, but I gave him the perfect opportunity to play his games for real.’
‘What about Mark?’
‘Mark remains faithful. They keep us apart. But I managed to slip a message to him yesterday, asking you to visit. Foster doesn’t know, so we haven’t much time. This whole sorry mess is going to fall apart before long. We have been living on foodstuffs looted from supermarkets. The way we are attempting to live is unsustainable. I know that now, and Foster will make the collapse happen quicker.’
Reaper considered returning with a full complement of Special Forces and taking the city, removing Foster and his followers, and letting the people choose their own future, but he immediately saw problems. Would he be right in leading his people into a battle that could bring casualties to them and casualties to innocent people who had been conditioned to defend the city for God? Was it right to interfere in another community’s way of life? Wasn’t that how wars started? With unprovoked aggression?
Abraham read his mind. ‘I’m not asking you to invade, Reaper. That would be against the tenets of God and yourself, for you are a man of principle. Besides, Foster has guns. They are not on show but I know he has them. What I am asking is that you save Mary and Rebecca. I fear for them and they do not deserve rape and degradation simply for being misguided enough to follow me. Brother Mark will have them at the Monkbar tonight. I can’t give you a time. But as soon as it is dark enough, he will send them through the gate. Can you be waiting to take them to safety?’
‘I’ll be there,’ said Reaper. ‘What about you?’
‘I shall continue to play my role. These are my people, after all, and perhaps I can be of use to them, despite Foster. And now, Brother Reaper, I urge you to go as swiftly as possible, before Foster discovers your presence.’ Abraham placed a hand on Reaper’s lowered head and said, ‘Thank you, brother. I shall pray for us both and for my people. Go now.’
Reaper left him. He wondered if the girls were in the church or under guard somewhere else. Brother Mark waited outside. He looked nervous. The man and the woman were now sprawled on the grass. When he emerged, Mark turned and led the way down the path and through the curved arch in the high stone wall that took them back into Goodramgate. He set a quick pace. Perhaps he, too, was nervous of discovery. They saw few people and they didn’t speak. The woman carrying a pike walked the wall alongside the gate and kept watch.
At the exit, by the stacked aluminium barrels, they were out of sight. Reaper held his hand out and, after a moment’s hesitation, the monk took it and they shook. His grip was fiercely firm. No words, but a nod of acknowledgement. Reaper left with a cold shiver in his spine as he walked that first lonely fifty paces down the road, half expecting to feel a crossbow bolt thudding into his back to speed him into eternity.
Yank saw him from the window and brought down his weapons.
‘That didn’t take long,’ she said.
He looked back at the city as he fastened the gunbelt and hoped Adie would be okay.
‘What did he want?’
‘Salvation,’ he said.
If not for him, then at least for the two members of his holy trinity.
They were halfway back to Haven when they saw the boiling black clouds on the horizon in the direction of Immingham.
Chapter 14
SANDRA TEAMED UP WITH KEIRA FOR THE DRIVE to Immingham. They planned a similar convoy to the one that had visited the bunker in the Pennines. Kev and James, Tanya and Jenny, in their Range Rovers, plus Gavin driving the military Land Rover with Smiffy behind the mounted machinegun, and Pete Mack sitting in back. Ronnie rode point as before on his Yamaha.
They met opposition as they approached the suspension bridge across the Humber. Sandra was in the lead car as they approached the Boothferry roundabout on the A164, when they heard shots ahead. The road to the bridge became a dual carriageway with steel barriers down the centre. Keira was driving and Sandra lowered the window and raised the carbine. They took the slight curve and the tollbooths came in sight but there was no sign of Ronnie. All twelve of the booths – six to serve in each direction – had been blocked by vehicles. More shots, as rifle fire scorched the tarmac and pinged off the bonnet of the car. A bullet put a hole through the windscreen, which starred but didn’t break. There were trees on their left and nowhere to go. She saw Ronnie’s Yamaha on its side in the undergrowth.
‘Jasus,’ said Keira, and pulled the wheel right, through a narrow gap as the steel barriers ended. The vehicle bounced across the central reservation, the tyres screeching, and she drove it across a turfed area and down a steeply inclined service road.
‘Keep going. See if we can get behind them,’ said Sandra.
They turned left at a T junction between trees and left again into an empty car park at the side of the highway. Signs for the Humber Bridge Tourist Information Centre pointed into another empty car park. Kev and James were right behind them. The gunfire came from above them on their left. Gavin must have stayed on the road. They could hear the reassuring sound of the machinegun being fired by Smiffy. Presumably, Tanya and Jenny had also stayed on the other side of the road.
‘Stop,’ she said, and Keira braked. Kev stopped alongside and Sandra said, ‘Up the hill through the trees. Take them from the flank but keep your heads down. You don’t want to get shot by Smiffy. We’ll get behind them.’
Kev drove the car towards the steep banking and tree line.
Lavatories, kiosks and the Tourist Information Centre were to the right of Sandra and Keira. A metal fence separated the car park they were in, from another one. Sandra pointed and Keira drove at a padlocked gate and crashed though. It made sense that access roads would lead here from both carriageways across the Humber to the tourist centre.
Keira drove the car out of the car park and the road began to turn and they could see the tall twin towers of the bridge ahead. The road went beneath the highway and curved back on itself. They emerged a hundred yards on the other side of the tollbooths. A red BMW with two people aboard, went past them heading across the water. Resistance had ceased. Smiffy’s machinegun had proved too powerful. Sandra let the Beamer go. It was against her nature to shoot for the sake of it and they were no longer being threatened. The span of the bridge arced upwards towards its centre, so they could not see the other side. She pointed and Keira drove to the booths. Sandra got out and went to the nearest.
‘Smiffy,’ she shouted. ‘It’s all clear. They’ve gone. Any casualties?’
‘We’re fine.’
‘Seen Ronnie?’
‘I’m all right, boss. Just bruises.’
‘James?’
‘No problems.’
James and Kev came out of the treeline, guns held at the ready.
‘Right,’ said Sandra. ‘Let’s move one of these cars so we can get through.’
‘The Land Rover will do it,’ said Gavin.
Keira checked the booths, blockages and undergrowth at her side of the road, while James and Kev did the same on the other side. Sandra opened a Transit, made sure it was empty and that the gear lever was in neutral, and released the handbr
ake. She jumped down and Gavin drove the Land Rover forward and began shunting it out of the way.
‘Another lane clear that side,’ she shouted, and Kev released the brake on a Mondeo, and he and James pushed it clear and to the side of the road. The ambush was amateur. But it wasn’t an ambush, she realised. It was a delaying tactic. ‘James, Kev. Get your car. We need to get going.’
Which was when the explosion at Immingham shook the air with such force that the ground shook and they forgot to breath. They crouched protectively in shock.
‘They’ve blown the oil refinery,’ said Pete Mack.
More explosions followed and black clouds coiled angrily into the sky.
Sandra said, ‘We’ll go forward. But slowly. Gavin, you and Smiffy take the other side.’ She indicated the other side of the dual carriageway that would, in former times, have been for oncoming traffic. ‘James, Kev, with me, but leave space behind us. Jenny, behind Smiffy. We may need to come back in a hurry, so plenty of space. Ronnie, you stay well back.’
They set off along both sides of the carriageway that were each two lanes wide. Once they were on the bridge, the lanes became narrow and claustrophobic. A three-point turn would be tight. They might have to reverse all the way back, which would not be good if they were in a hurry. More explosions, but these were nearer, and gunfire in the distance from the far side, which they still could not see.
They crested the top of the bridge. The suspended highway curved elegantly and dipped towards the far side of the Humber. When it reached land it became a full dual carriageway again that climbed into low hills.
Two tankers were burning on the far slopes and then they saw the rolling battle that was being fought below them. Sandra touched Keira and she stopped the car. Their vehicles in the other lane also stopped. A tanker was climbing the bridge towards them in their lane. Sandra got out and used binoculars.
‘They’ve shot out its tyres,’ she shouted to Keira.
Another tanker was following. On the far side, a car skidded, straightened, and came towards them fast. A blue Jaguar. Men appeared on foot in the road, firing after it. Then they moved aside as a blue 4x4 set off in pursuit. It had a full four-door cabin and one man standing in a truck bed at the back. The man in back was leaning over the roof and firing automatic bursts at the Jaguar. Sandra trained the binoculars on the car. It contained women.
‘Let the Jag through,’ she shouted to Smiffy.
She leant on the central barrier and raised the military rifle she carried, and fired a burst into the road ahead of the pursuing vehicle. The warning was clear. The vehicle slowed and then stopped.
James said, ‘Do you want me to put him down?’
She glanced behind her. The youth was ten paces away, his carbine to his shoulder. He meant the man standing in the back of the now stationery truck who was still pointing his gun at the Jaguar, which was close to Smiffy in the Land Rover. The man fired and the Jaguar swerved, lost speed but continued coming.
‘Put him down!’ said Sandra.
One sharp crack and the man tumbled backwards. The car was too big to turn and began to reverse. The Jaguar passed the Land Rover and headed slowly over the crest of the bridge towards the tollbooths.
‘Jenny!’ she shouted. ‘Go see who they are!’ She looked back at James. ‘Good shot! You and Kev go back to the booths. Make a defensive position in case anyone comes after us.’
More explosions from the far side of the bridge. More gunfire. Sandra used the binoculars again. The two tankers had stopped, a man jumped from one and was shot. He rolled, but lit a Molotov cocktail and threw it at the tanker. The bottle exploded and then so did the tanker. The bridge shook, and she crouched against the central reservation.
‘Turn around!’ she shouted back to Keira. The other tanker exploded and she imagined the bridge breaking, the concrete and steel cable falling into the water far below, along with her and the Range Rover. ‘Let’s get out of here, Gavin!’ she shouted.
They re-grouped at the tollbooths. Once Sandra and Keira were through, they pushed the blocking vehicles back into position. Smiffy took the machinegun from the mount of the Land Rover and placed it on the bonnet of one of the barrier cars. Kev and James also took up positions to keep watch in case anyone attacked.
Susan Watson and three women, one of them pregnant, got out of the Jaguar. All were upset, one of them crying hysterically, but none of them were wounded. Sandra went straight to Susan Watson.
‘What happened?’ she said.
‘John Steel,’ Susan said. ‘He’s from Sheffield. He wanted the fuel. We heard he was coming, so we couldn’t wait for you. We thought if we could beat him to the bridge, we could hold it until you got here.’
‘How many people has he got?’
‘Right now? Not many. But they say he has about four hundred men, mostly armed, and about three hundred women. They don’t accept the old or children.’
‘How did you know he was coming?’
‘He sent people to talk to us, like you did. It was pretty much an ultimatum. Join us, or we’ll take it. We have …’ She glanced across the bridge at the smoke and the occasional explosion and started again. ‘We had, three old people and Glenys, who’s pregnant. Steel wouldn’t have taken them. Besides, when we saw what you offered, there was only one choice.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us about Steel?’
‘Charlie said if you knew, you might not let us come.’
‘How did he know you were leaving?’
‘Two of our lot didn’t want to go to Haven. Young blokes. They thought Steel offered better opportunities. They went missing during the night. I guess they went and told him we were leaving.’
‘Did everybody come?’
‘Yes. Two of the women were in the cabs with their men. Charlie stayed till the last. He set charges to blow the place.’ She took another deep breath to retain her composure. ‘I don’t suppose he made it.’
Sandra was angry that Charlie Dyer and Susan hadn’t told them the full story when they had visited Haven, but she also realised that the woman had just lost most of her friends and, probably, a loved one.
‘Did you have a man?’ she said, and Susan nodded. ‘Was he in the convoy or with Charlie?’
‘He was in the lead tanker.’
The one Sandra had watched through binoculars. The driver had been shot as he jumped from the cab. Probably his last act had been to throw the Molotov cocktail.
Susan said, ‘I don’t know what’s happened to him.’
Sandra swung the rifle on its strap into the small of her back and took a step closer to the older woman and put an arm around her.
‘He didn’t make it,’ she said, and Susan finally started to cry.
The Jaguar was drivable despite having bullet holes in it. Keira kicked out the shattered windscreen in her Range Rover. The front was battered from ram-raiding the gate but it was still roadworthy enough to get them home, where the vehicle could be replaced. They formed up for the return trip, while maintaining a watch on the bridge.
‘It doesn’t look like they’re coming,’ said Pete Mack, hefting a carbine at the barricade.
As if on cue, a dark green vehicle appeared on the crest and approached slowly. They watched it through binoculars. Something flapped from a tall aerial at the back.
‘White flag,’ said James.
‘What the hell is that thing?’ said Sandra, meaning the vehicle.
‘It’s a Hummer,’ said Gavin. ‘With a steel sheet welded to the front. Impressive. No wonder they wanted the petrol. A Hummer does about twelve miles to the gallon.’
‘No one fires,’ shouted Sandra. ‘Stay alert.’
The Hummer stopped sixty yards away and a large man in military fatigues got out of the passenger side. His head looked as if it had burst in the
sun, and was surrounded by a halo of wild curly hair and bushy beard that were bright ginger. He wore a side arm but carried no other weapon.
‘Hello, Haven!’ he shouted.
Sandra handed her L85 to Pete Mack and climbed onto the roof of a car alongside Smiffy.
‘Who are you?’ she shouted back.
‘John Steel,’ said the giant. ‘I take it you are the Angel?’
‘That’s me.’
‘We’ve heard about you. The Reaper and his Angel of Death!’ He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. ‘You don’t look much!’
‘You want to find out?’ Her voice was controlled but challenging.
‘Not today. We’ve got to bury our dead today. Or maybe tip them in the Humber.’
‘So what do you want?’
‘To see my enemy, face to face.’
‘Are we your enemy?’
‘I think so.’
‘Why? It’s a big country. Few people. You can go anywhere.’
‘I’ve heard good things about Haven.’
‘So why not build your own?’
‘Why bother when I can take yours?’
‘Easier said than done.’
‘You’re farmers. Not even Reaper and his Angel can stop an army.’
‘Don’t bet on it.’
‘There’s someone else on the bridge,’ James said, in a voice low enough not to carry to John Steel. He was lying full length on top of a furniture van. He had switched from carbine to sniper rifle. ‘Cycle lane.’
Sandra moved her eyes without moving her head. She felt suddenly vulnerable. She couldn’t see anyone.
‘There’s always surrender,’ John Steel said.
‘We wouldn’t know what to do with you,’ she said ‘A lot easier if you stay away.’
Steel laughed again and Sandra said, more quietly, ‘James. If you see a threat, take it down. Tanya, if this goes pear shaped, take Steel.’
