‘That’s fine,’ Mary whispers, sensing a finality and she drops down to kiss Lilly’s shoulder, seeking to give comfort with a natural act and as her lips brush Lilly’s skin so that energy changes direction again with both suddenly becoming very aware of how close they are.
‘I er,’ Mary swallows, pulling her head back as Lilly turns but a fraction with her lips millimetres from Mary’s cheek. She starts gliding her hand up and over Mary’s ribs to the material of her bra and over the swell of her breast and up across Mary’s neck, so gently, so very gently. Bringing her hand to the side of Mary’s face who turns her head into Lilly without any resistance given at all, and that young woman of a singular minded determination moves in to kiss Mary. Their lips meeting. Their breath held. Fleeting. Barely touching but they hold for eternity with neither moving. The heat bearing down. Hearts whumping hard. They blast air from noses and move to kiss harder, pushing into each other and as their mouths open so Mary pulls back and away. Breaking the contact.
‘I need a drink,’ she says, breathing hard. ‘It’s hot and…you’d better get some sleep, Blondie…I’ll get some water…’ she pushes up and goes out, unhooking the string from the door as Lilly watches her go. Her own breath coming in gasps. Still feeling the contact of the kiss.
She rolls onto her back, blinking and wiping the back of her hand across the sweat on her forehead.
She waits a minute. Biting her lip and finally sits up before going out into the dark passage. Cool concrete floor underfoot. She heads out into the main office, looking out through the open door into the fort. A noise from nearby. The glug of water in a bottle coming from the room they use to change and wash in. She moves to the door, easing it open to see Mary inside drinking water.
‘Alright,’ Mary whispers in greeting, offering a tight smile. ‘Needed water…’ Lilly holds still, staring in at Mary’s hair spilling down her shoulders and back. At the beads of sweat glistening on her body. Mary blinks at her, trying not to do the same. ‘I’m not gay, Blondie. I like boys…men…I like men…’
Lilly waits. Not saying a word.
‘I’m not a bloody lesbian. And you’re sixteen. I’m twenty one. That’s wrong that is…’ she drinks again, swallowing the water and lowering the bottle. ‘We’re just pals. Right? Mates. Like soul mates…girls get crushes. This is a crush. I fancy you. You fancy me but like a crush, right? The weather, it’s hot as anything. We’re all out of sorts…Fuck off, Lilly,’ she says when Lilly moves in a step. Her blue eyes fixed and staring. Her blond hair pulled back. ‘Jesus. I said I’m not gay…I’m going back to bed…’ she finishes the water and nods as she walks past Lilly, pausing at her side, thinking to say something, wanting to say something, and in the end she says nothing at all and walks on.
Lilly stays still, waiting for seconds, for minutes, confused, rejected, unsure of what to say or do. That awful heat pushing down so very hard and still feeling the kiss on her lips.
They sit together in the middle section of their big tent. Confused, scared and unsure of what to do. The women grouped together holding the children close. Maleek clutches a length of wood in his hands snatched from the building site. Bashir and Tajj the same. Arming themselves as they tremble and sit in silence, once more listening to the noises outside. The drunken yells and shouts. The chanting too. Muzzies out. Muzzies out. Muzzies out.
‘You lot pack it in,’ someone else calls from within tent-town.
‘FUCK OFF!’
“GET FUCKED.’
‘SHUT UP CUNT…’
Angry slurred voices yelling back. Laughter harsh and brutal. An impact on the side of the tent making them all flinch. Another empty beer can thrown. Laughter again. Footsteps coming closer.
‘Muzzies out, muzzies out….’ the chanting coming softly as they listen to giggles and drunk men shushing each other. Then they hear the patters of liquid as the jets of piss come again, spraying on the outside of the tent. The stench of it now so strong and the heat bears down, crushing and hot as the pressure grows.
Chapter Twenty
Day Twenty Four
‘Jesus,’ Sam says, walking from their room into the main office. Her hair poking up, sleep lines on her face. Her clothes clinging wet to her body. ‘This heat…’ she stops at the table, grabbing a bottle of water to drink deep in the super-charged air. If yesterday was bad, today is off the chart. ‘My head is killing me,’ she says.
‘It’s the heat,’ Ann says from the table where even the children sit quietly, rendered silent by the awful pressure. ‘Painkillers over here.’
‘Ta,’ Sam says, walking over to mouth two white pills. ‘You okay?’ she asks, looking at Lilly.
‘Fine,’ Lilly says.
‘You’re up early again,’ Sam remarks, watching Lilly tie her boot laces. ‘Do you even sleep?’
Lilly offers a smile as she strands straight to pull her hair back. Clean trousers, a clean black vest top. Her pistol already holstered. Her grenades already pocketed. Her rifle nearby.
‘Morning,’ Mary says, walking in from the back. Dressed and ready. Boots on. Her face lacking the usual spark of humour and fun. ‘Ready?’
‘I am,’ Lilly says.
‘Ready for what?’ Sam asks.
‘Docks,’ Lilly replies. ‘We’re doing an early run for more containers…we shouldn’t be long.’
‘Oh okay, cool,’ Sam says. ‘Are we doing the meeting when you get back?’
‘Don’t worry about the meeting today,’ Lilly says. ‘Unless Lenski wants to hold one. The canteen is the priority before this weather breaks.’
‘Sure,’ Sam says, looking from Lilly to Mary trying to avoid each other’s eye contact. ‘You both okay?’
‘Aye,’ Mary says. ‘Just hot.’
‘Very hot,’ Lilly says, picking her rifle up before kissing Billy and working round the table to the other children. ‘You all be good, okay? Everyone will be tetchy today because of the weather…’
‘What’s tetchy?’ Milly asks.
‘Grumpy,’ Mary says, earning a quick look from Lilly. ‘Laters,’ she adds, smiling at Ann and Sam.
‘Stay safe,’ Ann calls.
‘What’s up with them?’ Sam asks once they’ve gone.
‘This heat,’ Ann says. ‘Does things to people.’
‘Hang on a second,’ Lilly says as they near the gate. She moves to the recessed door, leaning in to hear the rustle of people starting to wake. ‘Kyle?’
‘Aye?’ he asks, his voice gruff and low from sleep.
‘We’re doing the run for the docks.’
‘Are you going now? Want me to come?’
‘It’s fine. We’ll be back soon.’
‘Okay, stay safe…’
She heads out to see Mary opening the outer gate and follows her to the beach and the sea they swam in last night. Into a boat and Mary starts the engine, the chugging noise seeming so loud in the near silent world about them. The water an inky dead calm with no motion. The sky above them coming to light. The air so thick you could eat it and just moving is hard work.
‘You okay, Blondie?’ Mary asks.
‘Fine. You?’
‘Aye. Fine. You didn’t sleep did you. I heard you tossing and turning.’
‘No, you?’
‘Same. Bloody heat. Listen, about last night…’
‘It’s fine,’ Lilly says, cutting her off. ‘My apologies.’
‘Ach, don’t be all posh and polite now and make it worse.’
‘I said it’s fine. I just got confused…’
‘Confused about what?’
‘Mary, it’s early and I’m really hot…’
‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
They hit the shore, killing the engine and heading over the sand to the road to Peter waiting with vans and men smoking as they sweat and check weapons.
‘Been waiting for ages,’ Elvis snaps.
‘Piss off,’ Mary snaps back, giving him the finger.
‘Jus
t load up,’ Peter calls gruffly. Everyone tetchy. Everyone snappy. ‘Your van is at the back and stay in formation this time, Mary.’
‘Whatever,’ she calls back, heading down the line to the waiting van and the day starts. The twenty fourth day since the world ended.
‘My head,’ Pea says, walking into the main office.
‘On the table,’ Sam says.
‘What is?’ Pea asks.
‘Painkillers.’
‘Right. You could have just said that.’
‘I did,’ Sam fires back.
‘Ladies,’ Ann calls softly.
‘Have they gone already?’ Joan asks curtly, bustling in. ‘They were up all night yacking on and running in and out. I’ll be asking for a room on my own if that carries on…’
‘On the table,’ Sam says.
‘What is?’ Joan snaps.
‘You’re doing it again, Sam,’ Pea says. ‘Joan doesn’t know what’s on the table.’
‘The bloody headache pills are on the bloody table,’ Sam says.
‘Urgh. Is hot. I have headache,’ Lenski says.
‘Don’t say it,’ Pea snaps.
‘On the table,’ Sam says.
‘Just say there are pills here if you want them,’ Pea says.
‘Ladies,’ Ann calls softly.
‘Are they tetchy?’ Milly asks.
‘I think they are sweetie,’ Ann replies.
‘Morning morning,’ Kyle says, walking in. Ruffling Billy and Rajesh’s hair before spotting the packet of headache pills in Lenski’s hands.
‘You want?’ she asks.
‘Aye, right thumping brain this morning.’
‘That’s because you snore,’ Norman says, walking in behind him.
‘And you don’t?’ Kyle asks, giving him a look.
‘Gentlemen,’ Ann calls softly.
‘You both do,’ John says, pushing through them to aim for the drinks table at the back. ‘Might go back to sleeping in a tent…anyone got any headache pills?’
‘Here,’ Kyle says, throwing the packet over.
‘Alright,’ Simar says, yawning as he walks to the table to find a seat.
‘Hey,’ Jaspal says, gruff and low, lifting a hand as he walks in.
‘Eh up, the six pack Sikh is here,’ Simar calls.
‘Wasn’t funny yesterday and it isn’t now…’ Jaspal snaps. ‘And who was snoring last night?’
‘Kyle,’ Norman says.
‘Norman,’ Kyle says.
‘All of you were,’ John calls from the back.
‘And you weren’t?’ Jaspal says.
‘Gentlemen,’ Ann calls.
‘Tetchy,’ Milly says, nodding at Simar.
‘You’re right, babs, we’re all very tetchy,’ Simar replies. ‘Where’s the boss lady then?’
‘Which one?’ Ann asks. ‘Lilly has gone for the docks and Lenski is over there. Lenski? Lilly said you can have a meeting if you want or everyone can just get on with it.’
Lenski nods, sipping water. Her own head thudding with pain. ‘I think no meeting. We just work yes? Everyone knows what to do…’
‘Sides and roof,’ John says. ‘Soon as we can…this weather’ll break any minute now…Sim, you go and get Maleek up. We can get a few bits done before breakfast while it’s a bit cooler…’
‘Cooler, are you taking the…’
‘Language,’ a few people call out as Simar cuts off, blasting air and pulling a funny face at Milly.
‘Fine. I guess I’m going to get Maleek then…someone make us a brew though? Tea please…Not Jas though. He makes awful tea…it’s all those sit ups he does…’
‘Sim, too early,’ Jaspal snaps as Simar heads out, wincing at the pain in his shoulders from lifting and carrying so many lengths of wood and doing so much work overhead yesterday. He rolls his shoulders as he walks. Stretching his arms and grimacing at the sky. Another day. Another super-hot, super-busy day.
He passes the site, checking the rafters and seeing where they need to do next as his foot scuffs an empty beer can, kicking it along the ground. He looks down, frowning at the sight of it. He spots another one nearby and walks on, seeing a few more dotted about as his head lifts to see the utter mayhem spread out as the noise reaches him.
People gathered outside the big circus tent. Men with tops off. Women stripped down to bras and shorts. Tattoos and bellies on show. Beer cans everywhere. Plastic bottles of cider and empty bottles of spirits. Snack food wrappers littering the ground. Cigarette butts everywhere. A foul stench in the air. Booze, tobacco, sweat and vomit. He slows as he walks, spotting torn off chunks of cardboard with words scrawled on them stuck to the side of the big tent.
THE FORT #2.
THE OTHER FORT.
THE ENGLISH BRITISH FORT.
MUZZIES OUT.
PAMMIE SHIT HERSELF
There’s a lot of people too. Must be close to forty. More that joined in during the night, lured in for the booze and having heard what Doctor Lisa said about death camps and starvation and how the Muslims started it all. Scared people. Stupid people. People who just wanted to get drunk and feel safer in a mass of others. Now they’re all drunk and milling about like the outside of a pub after a football match. Like a festival turned ugly.
‘Muzzies out…muzzies out…muzzies out…’ that soft chanting coming from a few here and there as Simar takes it all in. Seeing tents and shelters have been pulled down and the poles taken from them and dug into the ground in a circle. Forming a weird barrier. Like a crappy fence line.
He spots Maleek’s tent and his stomach lurches at the sight. Puke and piss stains all over it. The ground at the sides littered with cans, debris and crap. Shoes and rubbish thrown over. Lit cigarettes that have singed holes in the sides. The smell of piss everywhere. A darker, uglier, nasty wet brown smear down the opening flap from someone taking a shit on it. Another side of cardboard wedged outside. The words scrawled in thick black letters.
PAKI LAND.
‘Did you do this?’ he calls out, anger rushing inside. ‘OI…DID YOU DO THIS?’ he shouts louder, his fists clenching at his sides as he walks towards the big tent. Making those closest turn and laugh at him. ‘DID YOU DO THAT?’ he asks again, pointing at Maleek’s tent.
‘Fuck off,’ someone calls.
‘Watch out, the muzzies are about,’ Tommy shouts. ‘What’s up with you? Go on…fuck off…’
‘YOU RACIST WANKERS…’ Simar yells, striding in towards them.
‘OR WHAT?’ Tommy bellows, switching instantly to rage as he walks out with men puffing up to go after him. Men with sticks and hammers and pipes taken from the building site. They run at Simar who goes at them. Too incensed and too angry to think clearly. His fists bunched and swinging but against so many he stands no chance and the blows come in from all sides. Punches to his head and body. Sticks hitting his back. People kicking his legs.
‘HEY…HELP!’ someone in another tent screams out in panic.
‘SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH,’ Tommy screams at them. ‘Go on, that’s enough…go on…back now…’ he pushes his group away from Simar, chuckling at seeing his turban yanked off and he grabs the material before Simar can, laughing as he throws it into his group.
‘You fucking…’ Simar gets to his feet, his face cut and bleeding as another roar comes up from the crowd. Angrier and louder from seeing Maleek rushing from his tent with his brothers. All three of them armed with sticks as they rush to grab Simar, pulling him back.
‘MUZZIES OUT…MUZZIES OUT…MUZZIES OUT…’ the chanting starts again as more empty cans are launched at the retreating men.
That noise drifts down through the fort to the open door of the office but becomes lost to the chat inside, the scraping of chairs and drinks being made.
‘What’s that noise?’ John asks, peering at the door as a young woman pops into view.
‘Is the gate open yet?’ she asks quickly, her husband close behind with their son in his arms.
‘Do what
, love?’ John asks.
‘Is the gate open? We want to go…’
‘Go?’ John asks, walking towards her as he clocks the way she looks frantically up towards the back of the fort.
‘We’re not staying,’ she says, her voice shrill and panicked. ‘Been fights all night, people throwing up, pissing everywhere…some guy’s getting beaten up now and…’
‘Whoa whoa,’ John says, holding a hand out. ‘What? Where?’
‘We’re leaving,’ another woman snaps, striding down with her kids gathered about her. ‘That’s disgusting…you said it was safe…when we came in, they said it was safe…that isn’t safe!’
‘What isn’t?’ John asks. ‘Len, come here a minute…’
‘What happen?’ Lenski asks.
‘You don’t even know?’ another asks, striding past her. ‘I’m going outside…I’ll wait for the boats thank you…’
‘I go see,’ Lenski says, heading out.
‘What’s going on?’ Sam asks as those in the office turn to focus on the happenings in the doorway.
‘Something at the back,’ John says. ‘Fights or something…said someone is getting beaten up…’ he rushes off after Lenski as the office spills out, all of them seeing people walking quickly away from the back, holding children and whatever they can carry in their arms. Frightened faces. Children crying. The heat so very awful and crushing down.
The Undead (Book 23): The Fort Page 26
