by Haywood, RR
‘Why should we? We’re surviving and doing the best we…’
‘Am I free to speak and do I have your consent to speak freely?’
‘Say what you want.’
‘You are a bloody fool, Howie. A bloody minded stubborn idiotic fool,’ passion in his words and they sting all the more for that emotion he injects, ‘I would never speak to you like this in front of the others and I admire your abilities greatly but my god man! You are immune and you lead people who have the same immunity but you are doing nothing with it. You killed two hundred in a squalid little town…’
‘Those two hundred would have found every other survivor in this…’
‘THEY ALREADY HAVE!’ His face flushes red with a thick vein protruding from his forehead, ‘Don’t you understand? Can’t you see it? We’ve wasted days of having an intellectual advantage and that…that thing is catching us up. We had Neal. We had a scientist who was there when this thing was developed yet we spent yesterday racking numbers up for the sake of it. Ten thousand is nothing against what they have…’
‘We wouldn’t have met Neal yesterday if we…if you…hadn’t chosen that course of action and ten thousand added to the hundreds of thousands we’ve already taken is a serious dent.’
‘Yes, yes you are right. I am venting because I am frustrated.’
‘It’s fine. Vent,’ I shrug and resume leaning without realising I had stopped leaning, ‘maybe there’s something in his books that can help us.’
‘Help us kill a few more?’ He asks caustic and stinging in tone and delivery.
‘Point taken,’ I say gently, ‘read them and work it out then, guide us…’
He scoffs and smiles without humour, ‘it’s that simple to you isn’t it?’
‘Fuck, Reggie,’ I exclaim with a weary sigh and rub the tension from my forehead, ‘we know how to kill and we’ll do it all day long. We’ve got Dave and Clarence for fuck’s sake. Lead us then. Guide us. Tell us where to go and what to do because that’s the thing we don’t know how to do.’
‘I am not a leader, Mr Howie. You are.’
‘It has been a long day has it not?’ Kyle calls out from the front of Roy’s van and in the heat of it all I forgot he was there. ‘I expect you’ll be wanting to take us to this place of safety you have where no doubt they’ll have coffee and a quiet room where a man can think in peace.’
I look at Reginald and we agree to let it lie without the need for words. The day has been long already and this conversation can wait. I walk back down the side of the van and glance through the windscreen to Kyle not-just-a-cook. He glances back and smiles, just a cook my arse.
‘We off?’ Paula asks me as I walk over to join her and Clarence watching Roy cleaning the wound on Charlie’s ear.
‘Ready when you are. How you feeling?’ I ask Charlie.
‘Fine,’ she says then winces as Roy puts another steri-strip across the cut on her cheek. Several of them all in a line from her eye down to her jaw but with the blood washed off she does look far better.
‘Are we going for the fort?’ Roy asks, ‘she’ll need to see the doctors. The wound on her cheek could do with being stitched if only to stop the scar being too ragged. I’ve steri-stripped it for now and she’ll probably need a course of anti-biotics. I’ve got some if we’re not going back but…’
‘You’ve got anti-biotics?’ Paula asks.
‘Of course I have. I’ve got Penicillin too, and Morphine and…’
‘Why does she need anti-biotics?’ I ask, ‘she’s immune.’
‘Being immune from one infection may not render you immune to everything,’ Roy says, ‘dirt in the wounds could cause an infection.’
‘We’ve all been cut and bit to hell,’ I say, ‘none of us have got infected.’
‘I am not a doctor,’ Roy says, ‘you asked for my help and I’m…’
‘Okay okay,’ I back down again for the third time in a row and really really wish I had some fucking coffee, ‘yes, we’re heading back now. Charlie, are you okay for now?’
‘I am fine, Mr Howie,’ she says, clearly a bit uncomfortable at the fuss being caused, ‘can I see it now please?’
‘You sure?’ Paula asks, holding a small compact mirror down at her side, ‘you can wait a bit if you want.’
‘No no, might as well get it over with.’
Paula opens the mirror and hands it over. Charlie is a pretty girl, very pretty. Her skin is almost flawless and she holds the mirror to take in the huge cut now held closed with white strips that runs from the edge of her eye down to her jaw. That it will scar is obvious but she doesn’t show any reaction but turns her head to stare at her ear and the chunk missing from the top. Wounds inflicted that will now always be there. She runs a fingertip up the cut on her cheek with a gentle frown.
‘You’re still a beautiful young lady, Charlie,’ Clarence says gently.
‘Thank you,’ she says softly.
‘Very beautiful,’ Paula says, leaning in to kiss the top of her head.
‘Fit as fuck,’ Cookey announces from behind Clarence, making Charlie snort with laughter that she tries to hide by hawing like a donkey instead. ‘I so would,’ Cookey announces with a grin.
‘Would what?’ Clarence asks with a warning look.
‘You know,’ Cookey says still grinning, ‘like…take her to a dance and stuff.’
‘I’d chaperone you,’ Clarence says with a wink at Charlie.
‘Yeah, Charlie would definitely be trying to shag me…’
‘On that note,’ Paula says, ‘load up, we’re moving out.’
‘You’ve said it again,’ I say, ‘I always say that. That’s my line.’
‘No, you say…Ready Dave? And Dave says Yes Mr Howie and you say Fuck ‘em, we’ll win…’ she mimics a deep voice that just makes Charlie laugh even more.
‘Fine,’ I say and look over to the lads, ‘you ready? Load up, we’re moving out.’
Twenty Eight
‘It’s done?’
‘It is.’
‘We heard the shooting but we haven’t had any injured brought in.’
She pauses, her unblinking blue eyes locked on his with an intensity that makes him look down at the ground. ‘There are no injured. Just dead.’
‘Fuck,’ Anne recoils at the savage simplicity of the words spoken by the young woman with a pistol on her belt and an assault rifle gripped in her hands.
‘Maddox?’ Lilly asks, choosing to move the conversation on to the reason she came into the hospital.
‘He hasn’t come round,’ Andrew replies quietly.
‘Is there something you can do?’ Lilly asks looking to Anne then back to Andrew who shrugs but with an air of someone who has an idea but is reluctant to impart it. ‘He needs to come round,’ Lilly adds, her voice as cold as her eyes.
‘Can we wait until tomorrow?’ Anne asks.
‘No,’ Lilly says now knowing they have an idea to do something, ‘it has to be tonight.’
‘Why tonight?’ Andrew asks, looking up and wishing he hadn’t because she doesn’t blink or flinch or look away politely but stares through him to a point a hundred miles beyond his eyes.
‘Maddox needs to wake up,’ she says, once again choosing to reply how she sees fit and in so doing she holds the power in the room. Not because of the weapons she holds but because of the energy she projects that speaks of things done that can never be undone.
‘Okay,’ Anne breathes the word out feeling the importance of the moment, ‘there is something but it’s not without risk.’
‘A great deal of risk,’ Andrew adds bitterly.
‘How long?’ Lilly asks so coldly it makes both of them start.
‘An hour or two,’ Anne says.
Lilly starts towards the door, ‘I will come back in one hour.’
‘Lilly,’ Anne calls after her, rushing to the door as the young woman stops in the corridor to face back, ‘it’s done…you did it. Why the rush? Get some sleep…everyone ne
eds to sleep…’
‘Later,’ Lilly replies, ‘there’s still work to do. I’ll be back in one hour.
Lenski watches them work. They move fast but she can tell they’re worried. An IV stand is brought in with a bag of saline solution hanging from the bracket. Andrew fixes the cannula into the crook of Maddox’s right arm and checks the tube running to the bag of solution. Anne brings in the oxygen bottle and fits the mask to Maddox’s face. Three orange capped syringes lie on a sheet of white gauze, carried in and made ready by Andrew.
‘What you do?’ Lenski asks, catching the fear they project.
Anne looks up at her as she adjusts the mask and reaches over to turn the flow on the bottle, ‘starting oxygen, Andrew.’
‘Okay,’ Andrew says and picks the first syringe up. He takes the cap off and pushes the needle into the ingoing valve on the drip, ‘Thiamine going in now.’
‘What you do?’ Lenski asks again, edging protectively closer.
‘It’s called dont,’ Anne says quietly.
‘Don’t?’
‘Dont…D O N T. Also known as the coma cocktail. It’s been used for years to bring patients out of a coma state.’
‘I not hear of this,’ Lensky says, frowning with suspicion.
‘Controversial,’ Andrew mutters, ‘very controversial…and we’re bending the rules even more.’
‘Desperate times and all that,’ Anne replies.
‘It is dangerous?’ Lenski asks.
‘Dangerous?’ Andrew says, thinking for a second, ‘yes it’s very bloody dangerous…I mean the drugs themselves aren’t dangerous but the body retains a coma state for a reason. Bringing someone out of it using hard medication is always dangerous. We don’t know if Maddox has a brain injury or something else. We don’t know his medical history or if he’ll react to the drugs…and if he does then we don’t have the capacity or facility to deal with it,’ he stops and sighs as he turns the valve to start the drip feed into Maddox’s body. ‘Dextrose, Oxygen, Naloxone and Thiamine. DONT. We’ve increased each dose and we’ll shorten the time it’s meant to be given over. He’ll either wake up or he won’t.’
‘This thing, it kill him?’
The doctors share a glance, neither of them are confident to answer. A few minutes passes and the Dextrose goes in next. It should be a 50% solution of 100ml given over thirty minutes but it seems every second counts tonight so the dose is increased. Same with the Thiamine. Same with the flow of Oxygen and the same with the final IV feed of Naloxone. Adrenalin is given too. Not for the effect it has in the movies but to raise Maddox’s blood pressure, stimulate his heart and aid his breathing. Drugs given and each one will have a side effect, the worst of which could be death.
‘Desperate times,’ Andrew mutters to himself. Never before has he done the things he has done on this night. Setting bones without anaesthetic. Gauging flesh open to pluck shrapnel and bullets out. Stitching skin together without wearing gloves. Anything that was sterilised was soon made dirty and the risk of infection is great. Everyone treated will have to take either penicillin or anti-biotics. It wasn’t medicine. It was butchery.
‘What now?’ Lenski asks, her eyes fixed on the unconscious form of Maddox.
Anne checks her watch and slumps to lean against the wall, ‘now? Now we wait.’
One hour after she walked out, Lilly returns to walk through the hospital with the pistol on her belt and the assault rifle held in her hands. ‘Has it worked?’ She asks the two doctors sitting in the back office sipping from mugs of strong coffee.
‘He started coming round a few minutes ago,’ Andrew says.
‘He’s groggy but alive,’ Anne adds, holding her mug with both hands while avoiding looking at Lilly.
‘Shouldn’t you be with him?’
‘Lenski is with him,’ Andrew replies.
Lilly moves away to walk down the darkened corridor to the small room lit only by a single hissing gas lamp. Lenski looks up, her eyes staring without expression.
‘He’s awake?’
‘Just,’ Lenski says, her voice muted and low but her eyes take in the heavily armed girl who now looks so different. Older. Aged. Matured and her eyes are icy cold.
‘Take the mask off him,’ Lilly says, seeing Maddox blinking heavily as he stares up at her.
‘He need the oxygen…’
Maddox’s hand lifts to push the mask up over his forehead. His eyes bloodshot but clear with focus.
‘Can you hear me?’ Lilly asks, her voice flat and monotone.
‘Yes,’ Maddox whispers, his own voice rough and low.
‘Your crews are nearly all dead. I killed them. Do you understand?’
His eyes widen. His heart hammering harder as her words strike home. The pistol on her belt. The rifle in her hands and only now does he take in the change and the way she holds herself.
She can feel Lenski’s eyes boring into her and the tension in the room that ramps in that split second. She can feel the fear rippling through Maddox and she sees herself through their eyes.
‘A few remain. The younger ones. The rest are dead,’ she stops to force her tone to become softer from seeing the pain on Maddox’s face. ‘They refused food to every person other than your crews. They made them stay outside in the rain…they made me crawl on my knees like a dog and every bruise you see on my face was made by them and they made my brother stay hungry outside in the rain while they beat people and laughed and ate food inside…’ She stops again to swallow the rage that still seethes inside. ‘I told the doctors to bring you round because we need to have this conversation now. Our agreement still stands. The three of us will run the fort but there will be changes. If you oppose this then say now and I will take the people that want to leave and we will go but know this,’ she steps closer to glare down and whisper, ‘if a single hair on my brothers head is hurt from any form of desire for revenge then every person in this fort knows to tell Howie you caused that harm and if I don’t kill you then he will. Do you understand?’
Maddox stares, his eyes wide and unblinking but a single tear tracks from the corner to roll fat down his cheek to leave a wet trail that glistens in the orange light, ‘they’re dead?’ His voice a ghost of a whisper, weak and faint with emotion from the memories of the children he watched grow on the estate. The drugs are heavy in his head. His mind fuggy and slow but the feeling of his heart fracturing into a thousand pieces is real.
Lilly nods. She can feel his pain and see the hurt flood his eyes and less than one day ago she would have consoled or found words of comfort but now there is no comfort to be given. There is only the brutal vicious seedy reality of this day and it needs to be finished to be buried.
He sinks lower onto the mattress, his hands lifting to cover his eyes as Lenski looks away with her own face as set and as hard as ever.
‘Maddox,’ Lilly says dangerously quietly.
‘They did that?’ He asks, his voice choking with emotion, ‘Sierra yeah?’
‘Yes.’
‘She didn’t listen to Lenski…’
‘No.’
‘Fuck,’ Maddox bites the sob down, ‘all of them? How many? Who?’
‘Sierra, Skyla, Zayden, Liam….’ She reels the names she knows off, seeing that each one pierces his heart that little bit further, ‘more,’ she adds simply, ‘I didn’t know their names.’
The sad reality is that despite the anguish gripping his insides, he can see it happening. He can see the collective lack of responsibility from minds too used to taking what they want without any fear of the consequences. He can see Sierra’s temper exploding from the grief at seeing Darius killed. He can see the little bitch Skyla getting drunk on power and the others reverting to what they always were; wild and feral with no concept of longevity. He was going to change them. He was going to show them how to live differently but more than that, he can see the cruelty of them. It hurts, it hurts more than anything but with testament to a mind that still functions despite the drugs he kno
ws there is also acceptance of what is fact.
Lilly watches him closely. Seeing the pain but seeing the understanding too. His failure but that he tried. His anger at not being there to stop it but his acceptance that it’s done and there’s no going back.
‘Some are alive,’ she says, finally finding the words to soften the blow. ‘Those that were injured when the armoury blew up and some more who were asleep when I…when I took the fort back…’
Maddox returns and the man locks the emotion inside to look up at her, ‘I understand.’
The magnitude of the moment holds them still with eyes locked, ‘my brother?’
‘Don’t offend me. I am not that man.’
‘And me?’
‘I am not that man either.’
‘Then we have an agreement?’
‘We do.’
Quick words fired back and forth. Lenski watches, alert to every nuance of tone and inflection.
‘I am sorry,’ Lilly says and finally dips her head to break the eye contact and show remorse.
‘Me too,’ he turns away and blinks slowly and heavily as the effects of the drugs sweep over him.
‘I will leave you to rest,’ she turns away but stops in the doorway, ‘one more thing, Mr Howie is welcome back here anytime he chooses and for any length of time he chooses.’
‘The hole? Is it fixed?’ He asks without looking up.
‘Not yet. I’ll get to it. Rest. The fort is safe.’
‘Lenski, go with her. Help her…’
‘I stay with you.’
‘Go with her…’
‘I not go. I stay…’
He fights the tears back, holding it all inside with every ounce of strength his weakened body can muster. She sees it and rises without a word to rush after Lilly and as the door closes softly so he releases and weeps alone in a room bathed orange by a single hissing lamp.
Twenty Nine
Day Eighteen
She wakes with her eyes blinking open to see the new day is here. A grey sky full of low clouds that pour water with relentless driving rain. She doesn’t move but stares through the broken inner wall to the broken outer wall. Soft snores and low murmurs fill the room and every inch of floor space is covered by blankets, coats and clothes on which sleep the children and some of the adults.
