John nods, seeing the determination within Lilly. ‘Par’s going to project manage it all…’
‘What does that mean?’ Sam asks.
‘Par?’ John asks.
‘Er yeah sure, hello everyone. I’m Pardip. I wear a turban…it’s not a hat,’ he says to a few chuckles. ‘And we’re not Muslims either. So, if we project manage we can plan it all in advance, so we do it the best way…John said you need housing right? We need wood for that and materials. I can plan ahead, work out where the structures go, what material we need and how much and then when we start it’s not so manic and crazy like. Honestly, doing that prevents so many snags later. We’ve got to think about drainage, weather proofing, space per person, distances between the buildings, fire safety…’
‘Health and safety?’ Lisa asks. ‘Are you joking?’
‘No, I’m not,’ Pardip says seriously. ‘We’re building from wood. Wood burns. You put them close together and if one goes up they all do. Great fire of London went up because of that. Buildings constructed too close together and made from flammable material. We can build close but then we need to fire-proof them. Plus, we’re on flat ground so the water will pool, which means we need to stilt up. And, if we get it right we can build two story structures to get the most from the space…’
‘He’s right,’ John says. ‘We plan it now then it goes so much quicker when we start.’
‘Okay,’ Lilly says. ‘Please make a start. We cannot delay. If the weather changes we are exposed. Peter, the wall?’
‘As soon as the buildings are flattened I’ll free some men up to go out. Kyle’s given me a list he has. We’ll get it started soon as we can.’
‘We need food,’ Agatha says, cutting in. ‘Got more people turning up every day now…I said we had a week’s worth yesterday but that’s down to four or five days already…’
‘Bloody hell,’ John says as a few others murmur in alarm.
Agatha shrugs, showing apology in her features. ‘People need to eat…’
‘I’m going to cut in here,’ Lisa says. ‘You’re pushing people too hard. We had too many patients coming in yesterday with heat stroke and exhaustion. People passing out all over the place…this fort is hitting nearly forty degrees C in the day…it’s not safe. And we had people coming in from the beach, that woman, Sally? She had to be sedated…she’s still in there now on a drip she was so dehydrated.’
‘The work continues,’ Lilly says. ‘We have more people arriving. They can work and let others rest for an hour.’
‘An hour? Are you bloody joking?’ Lisa snaps. ‘Do you have any idea how dangerous heat-stroke and exposure are?’
‘Yes,’ Lilly says, staring at her.
‘Who the hell do you think you are? People will bloody die.’
‘They’ll die if we don’t.’
‘Are you being serious? Can you hear yourself? You’re sixteen. You’re a child. You have no right to make people work like that and while we’re all here, why the hell has Ann got the nurse?’
‘The nurse? I’ve got a name, love.’
‘Doctor. Not love,’ Lisa snaps.
‘We need Anika on the beach to work with Ann to free Norman up to process the vans to get them turned around so we can flatten the view and build the wall,’ Lilly says.
‘That’s good project managing that is,’ Pardip says with a dip of his head at Lilly.
‘We’ve got an infirmary full of sick people,’ Lisa continues.
‘You’ve also got Hannah and Amy over there,’ Ann says. ‘Train them up. They can do a lot more than count bandages…’
‘Thank you,’ Lilly says as Lisa goes to fire back, seeing the doctor simmering with anger.
‘Er, so hi guys,’ Colin says, raising his hand. ‘Couple of things if I can change the direction quickly?’ he asks, unfolding a notepad.
‘Please do,’ Sam murmurs, casting a look at Lisa.
‘Excuse me, I find that look threatening,’ Lisa says, calling her out.
‘You find me looking at you threatening?’ Sam asks. ‘Fuck me, you’re a sensitive soul aren’t you…’
‘I beg your bloody pardon?’
‘Colin,’ Lilly says as Mary cocks her head over while looking at Lisa.
‘Right yes,’ Colin says. ‘Sorry, I know you’ve all got important things going on but er, any news on the tent front?’
Groans and heads shaking. ‘Nothing,’ Pea says.
‘I can take a run at a few outdoor stores later if we get time,’ Kyle says. ‘Best we can do for now, Colin.’
‘Er, well, I have another suggestion,’ Colin says. ‘I was chatting to Pardip and a few other section heads yesterday…’
‘Are you a section head, Colin?’ Kyle asks.
‘I am, yes!’ Colin says. ‘Bedding, clothing and…’
‘We know,’ Sam groans.
‘Spit it out, Colin. We’ve a lot to do,’ Joan says.
‘Right yes, sorry, lots going on, er so…we’ve got quite a lot of tarpaulin.’
‘Great,’ Kyle says as everyone stares at Colin.
‘And poles,’ Colin adds, ‘and I don’t mean Polish people before anyone…’
‘Oh my god, we’re not doing the racist thing again,’ Sam says. ‘Colin, what’s your point?’
‘We can make tents and shelters. I saw it on the telly. Poles, sticks, tarpaulin. We just stretch it over and make shade…we can use sheets to blot the sun out, anything really…’ he trails off into the silence. ‘Sorry, just a silly idea…er, moving on…’
‘Anyone else feeling an urge to kiss Colin right now?’ Sam asks as a few hands lift up.
‘The simplest solutions are often the best,’ Kyle murmurs. ‘Colin lad, that’s a grand idea that is.’
‘Very good,’ Lilly says. ‘Can you organise it today?’
‘Wow, yes, sure,’ Colin says, almost lifting off his chair with pride. ‘The other thing is the t-shirts? I know you all think it’s a stupid idea but…people in the fort don’t know who to ask for help other than Lenski and she’s getting run ragged…’
‘Is true,’ Lenski says. ‘I am hardest working person in fort, yes?’ she adds to a few smiles.
‘Notice board,’ Norman says from the back, the words spilling out before he can think. ‘Put a notice board up with meal times and information. Lenski can show that to people when they come in…I had a lot of people asking me questions last night.’
‘Colin, can you organise that?’ Kyle asks.
‘I’m on it!’ Colin says, scribbling in his pad. ‘How big should it be?’
‘Big as you like,’ Kyle says, winking at him. ‘Big as you can make it.’
‘Right,’ Colin says, nodding eagerly. ‘I’ll get it done.’
A nod from Kyle to Norman. ‘You got any more ideas in that head there, Norman?’
‘Not right now,’ Norman says, dropping his gaze.
‘Aye, well just say when you do.’
‘Indeed,’ Lilly says. ‘That’s enough for now. To work please…’
Chapter Eight
Day Twenty Two
If yesterday was bad, today is worse and it feels like Norman blinks and they’re striding out through the fort with Lilly leading the way to the gates.
Norman blinks again and he’s in one of the lead boats heading across the water. Mary next to him looking about at their fleet of open-topped vessels all chugging in one direction. Everyone sucking air in. Fidgeting nervously with a sensation akin to going into battle. He looks up the bay and notices how more of the houses have been pulled down, but from this position he can also see how easy it would be for dozens of people or infected to get closer to the fort using the structures as cover.
The boats land and out they go. Once more unto the breach and what a difference a day makes. Yesterday, Norman was in office clothes and felt nervous and slow, but today his clothing is suited to the tasks. He has knowledge of what to do too, and with that comes direction and purpose.
‘Mary?’ Peter calls as they head over the sand. ‘Are you heading back into the camp?’
‘I don’t know, Uncle Peter. Am I being a guard?’ Mary asks, vaulting from the boat.
‘Ach, Mary. We’ve been through this.’
‘Aye, we have been through this. Stuff your camp. I’m working with my mate Norman now I am.’
‘Are you?’ Norman asks her, slightly alarmed at the turn of events.
‘Fine,’ Peter says, waving a big arm as he stomps off.
‘FINE!’ Mary yells. ‘BLONDIE LETS HER GIRLS BE GUARDS…’
‘It’s nothing to do with you having tits, Mary,’ Elvis yells from the road. ‘It’s cos your bloody mental…’
‘Piss off, Elvis. I’m working with Norman. He’s the section head of the beach and he said you can get off his sand you wanker…’
‘I never said that,’ Norman calls quickly.
‘Blondie, if I work hard will you let me be a guard for your fort?’
‘Don’t let her, Miss Lilly!’ a voice from the road shouts.
‘SHUT UP, TYSON YOU TWAT…Blondie, I’ll work hard I will. I’ll show you…’ she adds with a grin. ‘Right boss,’ she says to Norman. ‘What’s the crack then? What we doing?’
‘Hang on a second,’ Norman says, dumping his bag with Ann and Anika setting the umbrellas up and he runs off over the sand with Mary frowning behind him, thinking he’s going to tell Lilly he doesn’t want her help.
‘Just you bloody hold on now,’ Mary shouts, reaching to grab Norman’s arm. ‘If you don’t want me working with you bloody tell me not Blondie…’
‘What?’ Norman asks, blinking in confusion as he looks from an angry Mary to an impatient Lilly. ‘Sorry, I saw it from the sea when we were coming over…’
‘Saw what?’ Lilly asks.
‘The view. I saw it. How important it is to open that view up, so we can see what’s coming.’
‘Okay,’ Lilly says, nodding at him to continue.
‘I was just thinking I can work here with Ann and Anika, and you take everyone else to strip the houses and dump the contents by the side of the road then the vans can take it from there…it’ll be much quicker.’
‘Right,’ Mary says, staring at him. ‘So, this isn’t about me working with you then?’
‘What?’ Norman asks, looking from Lilly to her. ‘No!’
‘Great,’ she beams. Slapping him on the back. ‘Good idea. Like it. What do you reckon, Blondie? Nice bit of project managing there or what?’
Lilly stares at Norman for a second. Her blue eyes studying his features. The same slim build as her father. The same hooked nose. But her father failed. He was weak, and this world has no place for weakness. ‘Good idea. Thank you…please tell everyone working here to meet us at the end of the shore road…’
‘Will do!’ Mary says, giving a thumbs up before striding off. ‘LISTEN UP. GET TO THE END WITH MISS LILLY. NORMSKI’S CHANGED THE PLAN HE HAS…’
‘I did mean to use a radio,’ Lilly says.
‘I don’t think Mary needs a radio,’ Kyle says.
They sit in the sun at the back of the fort on the edge of tent-town. A group of a dozen or so all clustered around one loud, tattooed figure. Some listening. Some dozing. Some thinking about everything they have lost and all of them unable to summon the energy or wherewithal to work and help.
‘So you were literally just walking past then?’ Tommy asks.
Pamela nods. Her chins wobbling as she does so. ‘Honestly. Lenski was like you work. Go to gate. Get people. Take names. Don’t rest. Don’t drink. Don’t eat…and her accent is so strong and then she’s yelling at me when I got it wrong because she didn’t explain it…’
‘Fucking joke,’ Tommy mutters, shaking his head. ‘And she’s got a gun too…’
‘I was so scared,’ Pamela says. ‘Then all that lot turned up,’ she adds, nodding towards Pardip, Jaspal and Simar working with John and the others to build another set of toilet cubicles.
‘Bet they weren’t so angry at them,’ Tommy says, urging Pamela on.
‘God no,’ Pamela snorts. ‘All over them they were. Like, couldn’t be nicer…do you want a drink? Do you want food? Pamela can carry your bags. Pamela can get what you need…’
‘No way,’ Tommy asks as a few others tut and shake their heads.
‘I know people need to work,’ Pamela continues. ‘But I was like totally beaten and raped by those kids…like that one that went for Lilly? He totally got obsessed with me too. And I was trying to keep him away from Lilly and was going to kill him then Lilly did it and me and Lilly we’ve been talking about what it did to us…’
Pamela slept under the tarpaulin again last night, that was after she stuffed more chocolate bars in her mouth and smoked a lot of cigarettes, all of them pilfered from the stores. She’d never worked so hard as yesterday. The fact that Pamela has never really worked in her life did not factor in her thought processes.
She did try and sleep in the back room again, but was beaten to it by a selfish old couple sneaking in there. She hoped they’d piss off, but they didn’t.
‘Seen that, Tommy?’ Karl asks, a middle-aged man with a London accent.
‘What?’ Tommy asks, following the direction of Karl’s nod. ‘What the fuck are they doing?’ he asks at seeing Colin and a few of his red-faced sweaty workers driving sticks into the ground nearby.
Patricia and Keith look over. Mathew the same. Everyone in that section paying attention.
‘Jesus,’ Tommy mutters, watching Colin and a few of his workers try and fix a length of tarpaulin over some poles. ‘We’re all fucked. Seriously…what are they even doing? Is that meant to be a fucking tent? Like something that wanker Bear Grylls would make on the telly. This is what it’s come to eh? Living under fucking shelters like savages. Mind you, I bet them fucking darkies don’t mind it. Eh now! Best watch what I say. Patricia will have the PC brigade shooting me for racialism…’
‘Idiot,’ Patricia tuts at him.
‘Oh god, he’s seen us, quick hide…’ Tommy quips as Colin turns and grins at the group, waving a hand as he rushes towards them all red-faced.
‘Hi guys! Wow, there’s a few of you over here…’
‘What’s that supposed to bloody mean?’ Tommy asks. ‘We’re just minding our own business and you’re coming over having a go.’
‘Oh gosh no, no I wasn’t doing that. I just saw there was a few of you,’ Colin says, trailing off into an awkward silence with a few of Tommy’s group just staring flatly while others look away. ‘Right. Well, er…just to let you know we’ll be getting some shelters up today…which is nice…’
‘Where’s the fucking tents we was promised?’ Tommy asks, his tone hard and demanding.
‘Ah no, afraid not. We’re just having the hardest time in finding any, just got to make do with what we have eh? Bit of the old British stiff upper lip…’
‘Fucking joke. We get our stuff taken away and told we’ll get a tent then just left to sit in the blazing sun all bloody day…’
‘Gosh I am sorry for that,’ Colin says with genuine worry. ‘But you guys are more than welcome to help…we’ve got so much that needs doing and Lenski is running about like crazy and…’
‘You taking the fucking piss?’ Tommy asks.
‘Oh I really wouldn’t do that. I could pop some sticks over, some sheets? Maybe put your own up or…’
‘Jesus fucking Christ! My wife’s dead…I saw her being killed with my own eyes right in front of me I did. I can’t fucking sleep. Literally not a wink. Pat’s the same. Keith’s in bits. Poor Karl don’t stop sobbing and Matty ain’t said hardly a word…I got a slipped disc from fighting the things and you’re over here yelling at us to work…fucking joke that is. That’s what this place is yeah?’
‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,’ Colin says quickly, panicking at the level of aggression and the looks coming from the group. ‘Er, I mean…I hope you feel better soon…’ he rushes off, startled an
d shocked.
‘That got rid of him,’ Tommy snorts, looking round at the others. ‘Fucking joke though right? Saving it all for themselves. Sleeping in rooms on beds…yeah I know their game. Tommy ain’t stupid. I can see what they’re doing. Making people into slaves so they can cream the best for themselves…wankers…’
Pressure grows. Pressure unrelenting. They have to empty the houses so they can be flattened, and at the end of the bay Lilly drives them on with a sustained energy, rushing in and out of the houses. Dragging furniture through doors. Sweeping the contents of kitchen cupboards into bags. Kyle, Joan, Sam, Pea and everyone else working with her, trying desperately to keep up with her relentless pace.
Martin Jones rushes down the stairs with his arms laden and his vision misted from sweat. A pressure inside to work fast and he doesn’t see his shoelace come undone that snags under his foot and he goes down hard, flying head first into the bannister and he tumbles down with a crack of bone in his arm. A yell. A scream and he writhes in pain as Kyle rushes in to find him.
‘What’s happened?’ Lilly asks, running in with the others. Her face coated in sweat.
‘Fell down the stairs,’ Martin gasps.
‘Wrist is broken for sure,’ Kyle says, feeling the bone in a way that makes Martin suck air.
‘Get him down to Ann,’ Lilly orders.
Twenty minutes later and Jane Parker collapses in a heap. Dehydrated and red-faced.
‘Down to Ann,’ Lilly orders. ‘Everyone else, back to work.’
Arms lacerated. Fingers trapped. The air thick with curses. Heads hurting from thirst. They can’t drink enough to replace the fluids lost.
‘Come on!’ Lilly claps her hands, rushing back in to the next house. Six houses emptied. Six to go. ‘We have to get this done….’
Brian Collins twists his ankle. Yelling out as he goes down. ‘I can work,’ he grunts, using a wooden curtain pole to hold his weight up. ‘I’ll drive the automatic van…’
Seven houses done. Five to go. Emily breaks a finger as she carries a sofa out that gets trapped between the edge and the doorframe. A burst of temper as she screams and stamps her feet, her face flushing red. ‘Get down to Ann,’ Lilly says.
The Undead (Book 23): The Fort Page 10
