The Hurst Chronicles (Book 1): Hurst

by Robin Crumby

  He shook his head with an ironic smile on his face.

  “Funny to think that the virus has done more to change the world in short order than a lifetime of campaigning by socialists. It tore down the social fabric and replaced it with mob rule. The virus pressed reset on the world order. And who knows what comes next?”

  Riley bent forward and straightened his pillow as he obligingly leaned forward. “Hey big man, less of the doom and gloom. All you need to do is focus on the here and now. That other stuff will drive you mad. Concentrate on getting better. Let someone else worry about that other stuff.”

  “I’m done working for those people. After all this time, I’ve come to realise that it’s man’s prerogative to crave power and to exploit the weak. And Riley, maybe you’re right? Who’s to say that the future will be the same as the past? The slate’s been wiped clean. The virus pressed restart on the world. But you can bet that the same operating system reboots and the status quo is restored. Everything changes, but everything stays the same. What hope is there for people like us Riley?”

  “You need to get some rest Zed. We’re all been through rough patches, yeah? I remember when I was a teenager and I got followed home one night after school by this guy. He came up behind me and tried to throttle me, drag me off somewhere, but I fought back, stamped on his foot, kneed him in the groin and then ran and ran until I got home. For weeks I didn’t leave the house. But in the end I figured that it was up to me. I never wanted to feel afraid again, so I did self-defence classes. I kept fit and strong. Made sure I could look after myself. No-one else is going to do that for you. I’ve never looked back. That day changed me. It was an awakening. Maybe this is yours. Trust me, the world will look a whole lot better after a good night’s sleep.”

  He forced a smile and leaned his head back on the freshly plumped pillow, yawning.

  “Maybe you’re right. This is my wake up call. Makes you realise what’s important and what’s not. Thanks Riley. For everything. I owe you one.” He patted her hand and turned on his side, closing his eyes again.

  “Good to have you back with us Zed. Get some sleep, shake off this neg-head bullshit and hey, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  Riley left him in peace with his dark thoughts and closed the door quietly behind her. Looking back through the small glass observation window, she noticed he was already asleep again. She’d never seen him like this. It was like the last few days had drained all that remained of his hope. He had been running on empty and let things get on top of him. She’d seen it before during her time as a physiotherapist. Physical injury sometimes impacted a person’s outlook on the world. She reassured herself that the condition was normally temporary. Normally. The sooner they got out of this place the better though.

  It was dinnertime downstairs and one of the Sisters was ringing an old-fashioned brass hand-bell, summoning all the residents to the hall where a buffet dinner was laid out. Two enormous stainless steel receptacles sat steaming, fresh from the kitchen. The smell was sensational. Fresh vegetable soup and a rich beef chilli served with fluffy white basmati rice. Any hot dinner was one to be savoured. Two scrawny-looking women, with mean faces and skin wrinkled like old leather, were slopping generous portions onto bowls held out in turn by the next person in line. They reminded Riley of the school dinner ladies at her secondary school, with grey checked aprons and unfashionable hairnets. One of the younger girls was in charge of rationing one piece of bread and one slice of Victoria sponge cake for desert. Apparently the cake was a rare treat, it being one of the women’s birthday today. Adele ran up and joined Riley from where she’d been sitting with two other young girls about her own age.

  “Hey kiddo. What ya been doing? Staying clear of the God squad?” asked Riley.

  Adele looked puzzled. “Er, yeah I guess. Riley, when are we getting out of this dump, it’s so, so boring here. No one lets you do anything. It’s all ‘do this, do that, don’t do this, don’t do that’. Work, work, work. My fingers are red raw from peeling potatoes all afternoon in the kitchen.”

  “You poor thing. Sounds terrible. Have you eaten yet?”

  “Yeah, although the food’s horrible.” One of the dinner ladies looked up and gave her a dirty look. Adele stared back defiantly but then turned away, her cheeks flushed. Riley got her food and found a spot at the far end of a long table just big enough for two if the three current occupants nudged down. They motioned to sit down and the other women paused in their conversation but made no attempt to accommodate them. The pair perched uncomfortably on the end of the bench seat and jostled elbows until their fellow diners reluctantly budged up before resuming their conversation and ignoring them some more.

  “I saw Zed. He’s awake. Feeling a lot better. Reckon he’ll be fit enough to move him back to Hurst first thing in the morning. Have you seen Stella and the others?”

  “Stella was at evening prayers. I think Mila was still outside helping in the garden.”

  Sister Theodora glided between the tables pausing to make small talk like a visiting politician. She greeted several of the residents by name on her way to her private dining room at the far end, doing her bit for community relations. She paused at Riley and Adele’s table, aware of eyes watching furtively from all the surrounding groups.

  “I do hope you’re settling in well. Sister Imelda tells me you’ve all worked hard and done your bit, earned your supper, shall we say. I do hope that, in time, you will come to understand and appreciate how we run things round here.”

  “Oh don’t worry, we’re not staying. As soon as Zed is better, we’re leaving.”

  “That’s disappointing. We were rather hoping that you’d all decide to stay for a little bit longer.”

  “What about Zed and Joe? I don’t suppose you’ve softened your views on men in the last twenty four hours?”

  “I’m afraid not. Quite the opposite actually. The presence of men has provided a useful reminder to one and all that this commune was established to provide sanctuary and freedom from oppression. Nothing has changed for any of us, nor will it any time soon. It was only your kindness towards Stella that made us bend our rules for the night. And then of course the injury and fever delayed your departure. Nevertheless, the men must leave this place. As I’m sure you can understand…”

  Riley interrupted, infuriated by the high-handedness of the Sister. “No, I’m afraid I don’t understand. I’ll never understand.”

  “Well in that case, perhaps it’s better that you are leaving. We have tried to open your eyes, but if you choose not to see, then I cannot help you. My dear, turning a blind eye to evil doesn’t make evil disappear. By ignoring something you sustain it. Gender slavery and men’s brutality will only get worse, unless you take a stand. The only person you are fooling is yourself. I will bid you a good evening.” She turned and with a swish of her starched habit, she brushed past them and was gone. Riley clenched her fists, ready to explode, aware of others watching her. When she had regained control of her emotions she glanced across the table at Adele who was pulling a face at her, eyes-crossed and tongue lolling on her bottom lip, trying to make Riley laugh. It worked. Riley shook her head and leaned in to whisper “Silly woman. Who does she think she is?”

  After dinner, they stacked their plates and put their trays back in the rack and wandered outside, engrossed in conversation. Riley was telling Adele all about life at Hurst, their routines, the people she would meet, the views over the sea and surrounding coastline. It was a beautiful clear evening, their shoes crunching on the gravel as they walked together, side-by-side, Adele’s hand finding Riley’s and falling into step with her. They headed down through the courtyard past several parked vehicles to find Joe who was in one of the outbuildings locked up with the other men. The guard they had seen earlier was sitting just outside the stable block drinking her coffee. She was reading a paperback novel with embossed lettering on the front, some trashy romance. The guard glanced up, aware of their presence, but did
not make eye contact. She raised a finger to acknowledge them as she finished her page, turning the corner and placing the book neatly back on the table. Without saying a word, she got slowly to her feet clutching her lower back and wincing. She reached for the set of keys in front of her and beckoned them to follow.

  At the back of the building block, along a crumbling old brick wall were some gabled doors, each stable padlocked. She wrestled with the lock before unhooking the latch, swung the door open just wide enough for the two visitors to squeeze through. As she closed and locked it again, she called out in a gruff voice that they were to knock when they were done and she’d come back and let them out again.

  Inside it was surprisingly dark, with a single window covered with cobwebs and years of accumulated grime. It took a couple of seconds for their eyes to adjust before locating Joe in the darkness. He was lying on a low camp bed with his arms behind his head day-dreaming.

  “How you doing trouble?” said Riley playfully. She sat on the side of the bed, leaning back against the bare brickwork and hugging her knees, a shiver suddenly rippling through her back and shoulders. Adele kept her distance and nervously stood by the door, suddenly unsure of herself in Joe’s company.

  “Can’t complain,” said Joe with a sigh, pulling his sweater down over his bulging stomach.

  “You sound very cheery for a bloke locked up in a dingy stable.”

  He smiled and rolled on his side to face her. There was an unexpected contented glow about him. “Well, can’t say I’ve ever been anywhere like this before. Not sure I want to leave now.”

  “What are you talking about? We can’t wait to get out of this dump.”

  “The women here are not like any I’ve met before, just…to die for.” He sounded dreamy, as if he’d just woken up.

  “Have you gone soft in the head or what? What are you talking about?”

  “Oh they’ve kept me pretty busy. I’ve barely had a moment to myself. I’ll have you know that I’m now a fully signed up member of their breeding program.”

  Riley laughed in shock. “Please tell me you’re kidding?”

  “Nope, not a bit of it. Two visitors today already. All wanting the same thing.” He put his arms behind his head, looking very pleased with himself. “No complaints from me. I’ve been more than happy to oblige.”

  “Gross,” said Adele. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Not to me,” said Joe defiantly. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me. I feel like a gigolo. Never had such fun. Never want to leave.”

  “You dirty dog. You look like you’ve died and gone to heaven,” said Riley. “It’s grim though Joe. Don’t you find it demeaning? It’s borderline inhuman keeping you and the others locked up like this and being forced to mate.” He was smiling, enjoying her superciliousness, listening intently to her protestations of injustice and morality.

  “But hey, I can see it’s pointless arguing with you. You’re like a cat that’s got the cream.”

  “Too right. Beyond my wildest dreams.”

  She laughed, in spite of how she felt about the situation. Riley told him about Zed and the others. “As soon as Zed is fit enough to walk, we’re out of here. With or without you. If you want to stay here and live like this, fair play. But we need to get back to Hurst.”

  Joe nodded. It felt like days since they’d left Hurst, but in reality it was less than forty-eight hours. Riley became pensive, thinking about their friends back at home base, suddenly worried at how long they had been gone. “They’ll be wondering what’s happened to us by now. And I’m starting to think those guys from the hospital will come looking for us, whether they follow the trail here or go straight to Hurst. If this place gets attacked, we’re all too vulnerable here. It’s a miracle they’ve lasted this long. Unless the Sisters have done a deal and got a local group protecting them. In return for what though? Food? Favours perhaps.”

  “Can’t we stay a few more days Riley? I’m just beginning to like it here,” pleaded Joe.

  “Dream on buddy. You can’t live like this. Hurst needs you. You’ve got a job to do. Back in the real world.”

  He didn’t respond, but he knew she was right. “OK, OK. Just come and get me in the morning when you’re ready to leave. If I’m not too busy, I suppose I could come with you, tear myself away from all this hard labour.”

  “That’s the spirit. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  Riley patted Joe on the calf and sauntered over to the door. She lingered for a second, taking in the squalour of Joe’s confinement, light streaming through a large hole from a knot in the wood. She rapped her knuckles loudly on the stable door and waited for the guard to let them out.

  “See you tomorrow, stud.”

  Chapter thirty-five

  At ten o’clock sharp, Riley, Mila and Adele were escorted back to the drawing room where they had slept the first night. Sister Theodora enforced a strict curfew at Chewton Glen. Every resident was expected to be in her own room, with lights out at ten thirty. It reminded Riley of the summer activity camps her parents had sent her on, but without any of the fun.

  Adele had fallen asleep waiting for the grown-ups to finish their conversations. When it was time for bed, Riley struggled to lift her, almost falling on top of her placing one of Adele’s arms snaking sleepily round her neck, clinging on. Adele's head lolled on Riley’s shoulder. Her bare arm was thin and bruised, hanging limply, swinging from side to side with each stride. Adele looked peaceful, her fair skin was the colour of milk, almost translucent in the dim light of the candle. Walking behind the pair, Mila tilted her head and smoothed back a lock of fair hair that had fallen across Adele’s face. She leaned in and kissed her on the cheek while they were waiting for the door to be unlocked.

  It had been an enjoyable evening all in all, with Riley attempting to avoid eye contact with Sister Theodora. She was still seething from their earlier exchanges. Sister Mel had kindly insisted that Riley and Mila be their guests of honour for a whole programme of entertainment organized by the social committee. The evening was made up of a general knowledge quiz, an open-microphone style session with someone playing along on acoustic guitar, finished off with a young girl with an accomplished theatrical voice, reading animatedly from Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations. Stella came with them to the door of the drawing room where they were sleeping. She made sure they still had blankets and pillows and then stood aside as one of the guards locked them in for the night.

  Riley stared at the empty leather sofa where Zed had slept the previous night and thought about him in his weakened state upstairs. She had checked in on him again after dinner but he was still spark out. A plasma drip was attached to his arm, replenishing lost fluids. His complexion was regaining some of its usual colour as the medicine worked its magic.

  The group had just settled down, blankets tucked under chins, eyes closed, drifting off to sleep when someone started ringing the dinner bell with an unmistakeable degree of urgency. Mila sat up, startled and asked Riley what was going on. It could mean only one of two things: they were under attack or there was a fire. Either way, they were in danger.

  Adele started banging on the door and rattled the handle, shouting at the top of her voice to be let out. There was no answer. They were in a remote part of the hotel, far from the main living quarters, way down a long corridor. She peered through the keyhole but all she could see was the far wall and a doorway to another room. She put her mouth to the keyhole and shouted again.

  Riley pushed Adele out the way and put her eye to the keyhole. If it wasn’t her imagination there was a thin veil of smoke beginning to form, drifting along the corridor, just under the ceiling. Riley banged louder on the door and together they shouted for help. In the room above them, they could hear footsteps and a loud bang that sounded like something heavy being knocked over.

  Mila unfastened the catch on the sash window and tried to heave it open. It was locked and fastened by security bolts to prevent burglars from gaining acc
ess without the key. Nevertheless the pane of thickened glass wasn't double-glazed so they should be able to smash through with sufficient application.

  They tried banging on the door several more times but there was still no answer. Outside in the hallway, the smoke was hanging heavier from the ceiling, slowly filling all skylights, apertures and recesses moving towards them down the corridor. The smell of fire and burning wood and plastic was unmistakable. They heard the bell being rung again, this time more insistent, this time more distant. Had the rest of the hotel residents forgotten all about them?

  Riley picked up a wooden chair and tested its weight. “Stand back, I’m going to break the glass.” She had a practice swing and then threw the chair with all her might towards the window.

  One of the chair legs folded inwards, coming off second best in the collision against the frame of the original sash window. It bounced back harmlessly without making any impact on the glass itself. She tried again, this time with Mila’s help. Instead of throwing it, they used the chair leg as a battering ram. With the first attempt, the glass cracked diagonally, but did not break. The second shattered the glass into a dozen pieces and the lower half of the pane fell down and broke on to the thick pile of the carpet and flowerbed outside. They knocked out the remaining intact pieces and laid a blanket over the frame to stop themselves from being cut by the shards at the bottom. They lifted Adele through the empty window, still groggy from sleep, passing her with some difficulty to Riley standing on the other side. Riley's feet sank deep into the earth with the weight of her load, as the pointed thorns of a rose bush scratched at her arms.