A few days of hiding and she’ll pop up and say they all made her do it. Another sigh and she shuffles back while staring out through a crack to Lilly.
Pretty Lilly.
Beautiful Lilly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Day Twenty Four
A back room within the infirmary. A few boxes spilled across the floor. Coffee dripping down a wall with the smashed mug lying in bits at the base. Andrew and Heathcliff stand side by side listening to Mary speaking earnestly.
‘And I bloody said I did, I said you can’t get across that sea in this weather, and you know what Lilly did? She hopped straight into a boat and said Mary, I’m going over I am. And I said, Lilly, don’t be such a bloody idiot, but then I got in too. Which does make me an idiot also maybe. Anyway, and then what happened? Shall I tell you? The boat only tipped over didn’t it. There we were, being thrown all over the place by the waves. I thought we were a goner. I really did, but Lilly was calm as you like. She took her boots off then got mine off and away we went, swimming about…are you still listening?’
‘Yes!’ Lisa grunts.
‘Good. Then we get to the beach and we’re wet through and staggering about and falling through the gates and everyone is like the fort’s being taken over by drunks, and Lilly is up, quick as a flash. Donald, she says, give me your rifle there old fella, and then she ran in…running mind. And right after that big swim we had too. My legs were like jelly they were…is there a medical term for that? Ach, it doesn’t matter. So, then Lilly is shooting them, which she had to do mind seeing as they were all going to kill the guys with darker skin having been told that the Muslims started it all. And of course, everyone is whipped up and scared thinking they’re in a death camp…and that we take food and possessions away. None of which is true mind…and we don’t work people to death either. Why would we do that? There’s too much work to do to go about killing everyone…don’t you think?’
‘Of course,’ Doctor Andrew Stone says quickly, glancing at Heathcliff.
‘Aye, and before that, Lisa here was going to the morning meetings being all difficult and shouty. Calling Lilly a little tyrant and this and that. I said to Lilly, I said you need to tell her to stop. You know what Lilly said? She said, Mary, I can’t go ordering Lisa to shut up and thereby prove I’m the tyrant she says I am now can I? Which does make sense when you say it like that, but then I said, Blondie, stuff like that would never be tolerated in the camp. You’ve got to deal with it head on. But we didn’t get to finish that conversation seeing as we got busy flattening all them houses and bringing everything over into the fort, then building that new canteen, and that bloody big wall too. Have you seen it? It’s very big. And of course we had a scrap with the infected getting the containers and this and that. Lots going on…and that all leads us to now. What do you say about that?’
‘Er,’ Andrew says.
‘Well,’ Heathcliff says deeply, nodding while looking down at Lisa Franklin on her knees wedged between Mary’s legs with her left arm held up against Mary’s leg while Mary grips and turns her wrist the wrong way. ‘Yes. Very busy all over I’d say…’
‘Everyone has been busy,’ Andrew says.
‘Aye, they have,’ Mary says earnestly. ‘And it doesn’t help none when you’ve a screaming banshee twat undermining every decision you make and telling lies. What do you think?’ she asks, looking down while adding a bit more pressure.
Lisa doesn’t reply but only gasps. The pain radiating down her arm through her elbow joint and into her shoulder.
‘Ach, but anyway, we’ll let bygones be bygones. Seeing as you’re a doctor and people need help. But do it again mind and you’ll be out. Is that fair would you say?’ she asks, looking up to Andrew and Heathcliff.
‘Very,’ Andrew says.
‘Yes,’ Heathcliff adds.
‘And I know I’m just a thick gypsy girl, but I do know what being complicit is …do you get my meaning, Doctors?’
They both nod.
‘Good. That’s grand that is. Anytime you’re free, pop out onto the beach or go up onto that wall and look across to the big camp. Because it won’t be me coming to see you next time. It’ll be my Uncle Pete and Willie and Elvis and Tyson and Patrick, and Eggy and my Uncle Jack…and if those boys come pay a visit then you are royally fecked…fair warning now? Oh, one last thing…’ a sharp crack. A grunt of pain and Lisa flushes deep red from Mary breaking her little finger before releasing the doctor to slump on the floor. ‘Right, I think that covers it…I’d get some ice on that now. Bring the swelling out…’
She smiles at the other two looking wild and somewhat crazy. Still wet from the sea. Still with one bare foot and the other clad in the purple sock with pink spots and a slightly manic look adorns her face as she nods, gives a thumbs up and heads down to walk back through the infirmary.
She pauses at the exit door, holding still in the darkness. Drawing air and blowing it out through her cheeks. She almost died a few moments ago. They were drowning. She’s never been so terrified and even now she feels sick to her gut from panic, from adrenalin, from fighting and running. Lilly is so calm though. Like it’s all just part of her normal day.
Out the door into the fort. The wind still blowing. Howling over the tops of the walls and she makes her way towards the new canteen and the many people now trying to get back to work. The hot drinks table dragged closer to it. People milling and getting mugs of hot sweet tea and coffee. Mary remembers that sweet things aren’t good for you when you’ve been in shock, but right now a hot sweet tea is exactly what she wants.
A glance up towards the back and she spots Bashir standing guard at the broken armoury door then over to Joan and Kyle ordering the last of the drunks into another room. Ann and Anika moving here and there tending the hurt.
‘Tea?’ a voice brings her back to the now, back to the reality of the world about her. Norman at her side holding a mug out.
‘Aye,’ she says, taking it with a grateful nod and they stand together, sipping the hot drinks while looking about at shaken people trying to act normally. Everyone talking too loudly and over each other. Everyone helping a bit too much. Another glance to the back and they spot Alf pushing his wheelbarrow into the middle of where the big fight took place. Rolls of material and coils of rope in his barrow.
‘How was Lisa?’ Norman asks.
‘Alright,’ Mary replies.
‘Agreeable?’
‘Aye. We made a pinkie promise…’ she says, sipping her tea while watching John and Pardip lift a heavy sheet of marine ply from the stack to carry over to more men and women waiting to heave and push it up to Simar and Maleek on the roof.
A minute later and they take more sheets in to fit across the floor joists and there it is, the skeletal frame making a gradual shift to a building proper.
‘Nice tea,’ Mary says.
‘It is,’ Norman replies.
The wind stops with a sudden cessation of noise, bringing forth a bizarre stillness.
‘Was that it?’ Agatha asks, turning from the drinks table to look up with everyone else. A moment in time of near perfect silence. Simar and Maleek both on top of the building looking up. John and Pardip standing on the first section of the new floor. Everyone poised. Everyone still.
And like a switch is flicked the rain comes. From nothing to a torrential downpour in an instant. Water falling from the sky straight down bringing an orchestra of noise. Soaking, drenching, warm and cleansing.
Norman and Mary lift their hands to cover their mugs of tea while staring up with eyes closed. Letting the clean water run over them. Listening to sounds of water striking hundreds of surfaces. Feeling the heat of the last few days ease away. Everyone does the same. Holding still. Taking but a few seconds.
‘No, that wasn’t it,’ John calls out, answering Agatha and earning a few chuckles. ‘Come on! Back to it…Aggie, give us two minutes and start bringing the food tables over…’
Noise and motion agai
n. People working. Colin and his few at the back pulling the ruined tents and shelters down. Picking the cans, bottles and rubbish up.
‘Put the bodies in there,’ Alf says, pointing at Tommy’s big tent. ‘I’ll get ‘em wrapped and ready…’
‘Did you get many containers?’ Norman asks Mary.
‘A few, saw some other people there. From another place I mean, survivors, like us.’
‘Really? That’s actually nice to know…’
‘Aye, I thought that. After punching the fella in charge…’ she looks at Norman and shrugs. ‘I’ll explain it later.’
‘Sure,’ he says, sipping his tea. ‘We should jump in and help I guess…’
‘Aye, can I ask you a question?’
‘Of course.’
‘When did you know you were gay?’
‘Pardon?’
‘When did you know? Did you like just wake up one day and think I’m gay, or was it like a gradual thing?’
‘Right,’ he says. Sipping his tea while glancing about at the chaos unfolding again with people hammering and others sawing. ‘I think I just always knew,’ he replies.
‘Gotcha. Always knew. Understood…’
‘Great. Er…was that it?’
‘So, I have a friend right…’
‘A friend.’
‘Aye, a friend. A woman. She likes boys. I mean men, you know what I mean, she fancies men. She’s even had sex with one of them, not a lot mind cos of her strict upbringing in a close-knit travelling community and the fact her Uncle Pete would rip the lad’s dinkle off and shove it up his arse, but she’s had a few fumbles, a few kisses…it’s not me by the way.’
‘Right. Sure,’ Norman says.
‘And now she fancies a girl. My friend does. She likes a woman. But she doesn’t think she’s gay. Is she gay? I mean, does that make her gay? I asked her, my friend that is, I said, are you sure it’s not just a crush now. She said, Mary, I don’t think it’s just a crush…’
‘Okay,’ Norman says.
‘What do you think about that?’ Mary asks.
‘Sorry, about what?’
‘About my friend. Is she gay?’
‘Maybe your friend is. Maybe she’s just curious…lots of people are.’
‘Ah, right. Yes. I never thought of that. Like bi-sexual is it?’
‘Could be, yes, if you er, if you really want to put a label on it…or, more importantly you can just reflect on how you…I mean your friend, feels about the other person. Regardless of what gender they are.’
‘Gotcha,’ Mary says. ‘So?’
Norman looks at her. She looks back at him.
‘Is she gay then?’ Mary asks. ‘Like maybe a little bit? Can you be a little bit gay?’
Norman takes in her green eyes and red hair and thinks of how she’s stood at Lilly’s back through thick and thin the last few days. ‘Maybe just a bit,’ he replies.
‘Ah right,’ Mary says, nodding at him with a relieved smile. ‘I thought that. I thought maybe she’s just a bit gay.’
‘But it’s fine,’ Norman adds. ‘This is the new world…’
‘Yep. New world. Sure…except my friend is from that close-knit community and really doesn’t want her brother and cousins and uncles knowing she might be a little bit gay…’
‘Of course,’ Norman says. ‘Best keep that quiet then. Your friend being a little bit gay that is.’
‘You know what, Norman? You’re a top fella. Really you are. Right, shall we go and help out or what?’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Day Twenty Five
A new day. A new dawn and the boats set off across the water. The perfectly flat, mirror-like surface now replaced with waves and motion, and the colour has changed too. The deep blue now greener and greyer from the sediment churned up by the storm that passed through yesterday.
‘Another one,’ Lilly says, pointing off to the starboard side.
‘Aye,’ Kyle says, tutting sadly at the remains of the corpse bobbing a few metres away. ‘And they all came up while you were swimming over?’
She nods, pulling a face to show how grim it was.
‘Hopefully the tide would have pulled most away.’
‘Hopefully. We’re eating the fish from this sea…’
‘Ach, I wouldn’t worry. It’s a big sea and the chances the fish are eating the bodies are pretty slim,’ he says as they pass a severed leg floating on the water. ‘Or not,’ he adds.
Neither mention the fact they are about to add more than a dozen fresh corpses, but at least these are all wrapped in sheets, bound with rope and weighed down with rocks. Which means it will just take a bit longer for the material to rot so the fish can eat the corpses.
Of the forty two that rioted. Fifteen were killed outright. Three by Kyle. One by Joan. Three at the end during the huge brawl. The rest were shot down by Lilly and Bashir.
Many more were hurt. With gunshots, with broken limbs, fractured skulls, busted jaws and noses. Concussions, contusions and lacerations.
They go further out than before. Out to sea. Out away from the fort and the bay and Lilly stares across to her wall and the trucks lined up ready for the work to carry on. The marquee tent on the beach has gone. Blown away by the storm, but that’s not so bad.
‘This far enough?’ she asks.
‘Aye,’ Kyle says. She doesn’t cut the engine this time but lets it idle so they can keep positioning into the waves between heaving bodies over the side. Other boats behind them manned by men and women from the fort gripping corpses that splash down into the waves.
A light drizzle comes on. A gentle wind too. The sky overhead low and grey but that heat is gone. That awful, crushing heat.
‘Into thy hands dear lord. We commend the soul of thy servant departed, now called unto eternal rest and we commit this body to the deep…’
Kyle calls the prayer out. Lilly stares across the sea, not bowing her head, not closing her eyes. Watching. Always watching.
The engines rise again as the boats head back. The breeze in their faces. Salt in the air. A cleaner scent too. Like the air is fresh and renewed. ‘We’ll need to have that conversation soon,’ Kyle says, looking at Lilly.
She nods and stays quiet for a few seconds. ‘Now?’ she finally asks.
Kyle stares across to the bay thinking today is the twenty-fifth day since it started. If Henry and the old group survived then they would have gone to ground somewhere to stay low for the first month. That would be the normal protocol for an end-of-world event like this. A month gives everyone else enough time to charge about and go mad at each other, for the initial absolute chaos to unfold and vent. A month should also see the first hints of structure within communities that have survived. Those behind big walls. Those that got food, water and security. Places like the fort and Lilly said they met another group from a place down in Dorset.
Aye. And that month is nearly over so now is the time for them to set out. Henry, George, Carmen, Frank and Howard. Kyle has no idea if they all made it, or where they are. If Henry knew something big was coming he would have taken steps to find somewhere suitable to hide out, and Kyle is sure that if Henry knew it was imminent then he would have found Kyle to warn him. Dave was still working in the Tesco store by all accounts too. And Kyle heard Howie went looking for his mum and dad. All of those things make Kyle think this event was not foreseen. That it took them by surprise.
Now, if the old team are alive, staying low in an isolated property somewhere, they will soon emerge, and once they emerge they will commence intel gathering and hear about the fort, and Mr Howie. Then they will come here.
‘Hard to say,’ Kyle replies at length. ‘Maybe a few more days…’
‘In that case,’ she says. ‘Tell me in a few more days.’
He smiles at the reply, his craggy face lighting up, his deep blue eyes beneath his hair streaked with grey now blowing in the wind. There’s something so wholly unique about how Lilly’s mind words. That she looks f
orward with everything she has and will only consider the past if it is absolutely essential. He rubs his jaw, nodding as he looks at the young woman this new world so desperately needs. If Henry ever does come here, he will adore her. Of that there is no doubt.
‘Would you look at that now,’ Mary says as they head back into the fort, all of them staring across to the big canteen standing large in the middle section. ‘She’s looking good or what?’
The building does look good. Dominant and imposing, but it suits the fort. The wooden boards and apex roof blend so well.
They walk towards it, seeing people up and about, all of them gathering about that one place, just like they did yesterday once it was built.
‘Morning,’ Brian Collins says, leaning against the side of the canteen. A cigarette in one hand. A mug of coffee in the other. Other bay workers gathered about him. Martin Jones. Emily and Jane. Jillian with her hand still bandaged. ‘We going over this morning?’
‘Aye,’ Kyle says. ‘We’ll have the meeting and be on it…’
They walk in to see the food tables at the back with Agatha and Sunnie bustling about behind them. Smells wafting out. Steam rising from pots. The water heater going non-stop. Generators chugging away. The clatter of crockery and cutlery. Running water from a hose pulled over and fitted to a tap inside. A hole cut into the floor that feeds to the old visitor centre kitchen drainage outlet. Thought taken in the construction.
They grab coffee and bowls of food before walking over to the main office and a hubbub of noise and once more they take seats at the big table with Lilly at the head staring out to the faces of the fort leaders. Simar still without a turban. Jaspal and Pardip. Lenski next to Lilly. Kyle, Joan, Sam and Pea. Colin and Joanne. Norman. Ann. Anika.
‘I think we should start with the hardest thing first,’ Lilly says as the room falls quiet. ‘The people that took part in the riot…’
‘Get rid of ‘em,’ John says quickly.
The Undead (Book 23): The Fort Page 32
