by RR Haywood
‘Is that the fit one?’ Jagger asks, ‘the blond one yeah?’
‘Yep,’ Nick nods.
‘She, like, your girl then?’ Mo Mo joins in.
‘Er, nah…not really,’ Nick thinks for a moment, ‘she’s nice but…’
‘But what?’ Paula asks him.
‘But, well, she’s like, fucking fifteen,’ Nick explains, ‘I’m almost twenty…I feel like a dirty bastard.’
‘But she looks older,’ Cookey says.
‘And she showed herself to be a very level headed and mature young lady yesterday,’ Roy says, ‘there’s only a few years between you.’
‘Yeah but fifteen?’ Nick groans, ‘it’s illegal for a fucking start.’
‘What shagging her you mean?’ Mo Mo asks.
‘Oi,’ Clarence cuts in before Dave can say anything, ‘I suggest you re-phrase that.’
‘Anything,’ Nick replies before Mohammed can say anything, ‘I kissed her yesterday…is that illegal?’
‘Kissing a fifteen year old?’ Clarence asks, ‘er…’
‘Yes, it is,’ Paula says confidently, ‘she’s below the age of consent for any sexual activity.’
‘Oh fuck,’ Nick looks horrified, ‘shit… I didn’t mean to. She kissed me anyway…and I didn’t know she was fifteen…’
Cookey glances down at Nick, ‘tell that to the judge mate,’ he adds helpfully.
‘Don’t listen to him Nick,’ Paula says, ‘it is against the law but…’
‘There is no law,’ Roy cuts in, ‘and no one would care about you kissing her given the circumstances.’
‘Exactly,’ Paula nods with a smile at Roy.
‘However,’ Roy continues, ‘having sex with her is another thing.’
‘Why? Paula asks, ‘there’s nothing wrong with it.’
‘She’s fifteen?’ Roy says as though the reason is obvious.
‘I didn’t have sex with her,’ Nick says quickly, ‘just kissed…I didn’t touch her or anything.’
‘Ah, you groped a fifteen year old,’ Cookey laughs.
‘Alex, if you have nothing serious to say then be quiet,’ Dave snaps.
‘Sorry, Dave,’ Cookey huffs then falls silent.
‘It don’t matter,’ Mo Mo offers his opinion, ‘fuckin’ world’s fucked up innit, she looks older than fifteen and…there ain’t no feds now bruv.’
‘It’s not a legal objection, it’s a moral one,’ Roy says to Mo Mo, ‘the fact that the authorities are no longer in place does not make it suitable to have sex with a fifteen year old girl.’
‘I shagged loads of fifteen year olds,’ Jagger boasts.
‘That’s not a good thing mate,’ I cut in, ‘how old are you?’
‘Sixteen.’
‘And,’ Roy continues, ‘although I have only just joined this group, from what I have seen so far…and heard about with your exploits,’ he delivers the comment towards me with a nod, ‘it would appear you are the authorities now, which makes it even worse.’
‘Eh?’ Nick says, ‘I never said I was gonna do anything.’
‘Nick, I think Roy is wrong,’ Paula adds quickly, ‘we could all be dead tomorrow…’
‘Or today,’ Lani adds, ‘I agree with Paula, Nick. If Lilly was a young fifteen year old then it could be an issue, be she isn’t.’
‘No,’ Roy argues, ‘she looks older but she is still fifteen…she lacks the life experience to be able to make sound decisions that affect her own future. What if she gets pregnant?’
‘What if she catches zombie?’ Cookey objects, ‘it’s not like Nick is going to force her…or get her pissed or anything…if she wants to be with him, what’s the issue?’
‘Bloody hell, Cookey,’ I lift my eyebrows, ‘you have got some common sense in there somewhere.’
‘Only a bit,’ Cookey grins sheepishly.
‘So let me ask this,’ Roy takes a breath and looks across at Paula, ‘if Lilly was fourteen but looked and acts the way she does now, would that be okay?’
‘Well…’ Paula thinks for a second.
‘What about thirteen?’
‘Too young,’ Lani says, ‘some girls aren’t even developed properly at that age.’
‘So fourteen then? Is that okay? To have sex with a fourteen year old girl?’ Roy continues.
‘No,’ Paula concedes, ‘probably not.’
‘Probably? How probably?’ Roy asks.
‘What if both the boy and the girl were fourteen? Given this life we have now, two fourteen year olds fighting to survive? Maybe given some circumstances it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I understand what you are saying, Roy. Your point is that Lilly might appear physically ready but she might not be emotionally ready, but that is a decision for her, not for us.’
‘I disagree,’ Roy shakes his head firmly, ‘if we are going to offer protection to young people then we must ensure their safety, and that means things like sex.’
‘The bossman let us do what we wanted,’ Mo Mo cuts in, ‘we smoked weed all day and fucked about…we didn’t eat proper food and we got pissed everynight,’ he explains while Jagger nods. ‘Maddox changed that when he killed him,’ he continues.
‘And what was better?’ Roy asks.
Mo Mo goes quiet, shooting a furtive glance to Jagger, ‘dunno,’ he says quietly.
‘Better now innit,’ Jagger says, ‘like, it was fucking crazy before…we could do what we wanted…but…like Mads made us see how sick it was…like not eating right and getting stoned…know what I mean?’
‘So you think it’s better now?’ Roy asks.
‘Yeah,’ Mo Mo nods firmly with some courage now he knows what Jagger thinks, ‘Mads said we couldn’t do no shagging no more…like, I think some of the girls weren’t ready anyway but like, you know what I mean? But they did it coz the other girls were doing it and…’
‘My point exactly,’ Roy announces, ‘Lilly may be unique in that she is older than her years, she may be physically developed and she may be a very mature young lady but we cannot have one rule for one and another for someone else. What if another fifteen year old girl comes to the fort and wants to have sex with an older man? Are we to say that is okay because Lilly and Nick did it?’
‘I don’t want to have sex with her now,’ Nick mutters.
‘You are overthinking it, Roy,’ Paula says, ‘Lilly is old enough to decide her own life, she has no choice now…and we know Nick is a decent young man so personally I do not see the harm in it. We have to take what pleasure we can.’
‘So,’ Roy says slowly, ‘would it be okay if I had sex with Lilly? Given that I am thirty eight years old.’
‘Nick is closer to her age, if she were sixteen nobody would even consider it. We’re talking about a matter of months, maybe even weeks depending on when her birthday is,’ Paula explains.
‘But the rule is there regardless of the months or the age gap, the idea of the rule is to protect the emotional and physical well-being of our young people.’
‘Roy,’ Lani cuts in, ‘I get what you’re saying, I really do. But for a start society has gone…and it needs re-building, our race is under direct threat and there will be a need to re-populate and keep going…’
‘So that means we can all have sex with young girls does it?’ Roy asks in such a goading tone it prickles my temper.
‘No,’ Lani says firmly, ‘it doesn’t, but given the unique situation that Nick is in a stable group with a firm set of morals and judgements, led by a man that has more honour and moral courage than any other human being I have ever met, known or heard about…and given that Lilly is mature for her age and she is not under duress…given all of those individual er…circumstances, I don’t think there is a problem.’
‘Thanks, Lani,’ I smile across at her.
‘You’re welcome,’ she says quickly, ‘Clarence, Dave, what do you think?’
Clarence speaks first, ‘I agree with what Roy said but…I also agree with everything you just said…on the whole, yes
I don’t think we should be letting young girls have sex but…given this situation I don’t have any issue at all. In fact,’ he pauses for a second, ‘if I had a fifteen year old daughter I would have no issue with her being with Nick, or any of our lads,’ he adds, ‘even Cookey.’
‘Seriously? You’d be like my father-in-law,’ Cookey beams.
‘Dave?’ Lani prompts him.
‘Up to Mr Howie,’ he replies as blunt as ever.
‘Not up to me mate,’ I say.
‘Well it is really,’ Lani says, ‘you’re in charge of everyone…and like Roy said, we’re the only known authority left….so that kinda does mean it’s up to you. You know if you told Nick not to go near her he would do what you said.’
‘Totally,’ Nick says.
Fuck it. Why me? Why do I have to decide this shit? I’m a supermarket manager not a sodding government minister. Big Chris would be good at this, so would my sister. Even Sergeant Hopewell or Ted would have a better idea of these things. But, it’s an important point and I can feel that Nick and the others are waiting to hear what I’ll say.
‘Lani summed it up best,’ I say after a long few seconds of thinking, ‘but like Clarence said, I do agree with Roy. We can only control or influence what is in front of us. We can give as much care to those as we can but ultimately, each person has to judge for themselves at this time. The law was there before, but not everybody followed it. We’ll give the very best protection…but regarding Lilly and Nick, no I don’t have any issues with it at all. Sometimes you’ve got to go with what you feel, and it feels okay to me if Nick and Lilly got together. If I thought she was too young or immature then I’d be the first to say something.’
‘And anyway,’ I continue after a short, heavy pause, ‘we don’t know we’re the only group left like ours. There could be some awesome military leader running a refuge in London or something.’
‘There was,’ Clarence says quietly, ‘and he conceded to you.’
The words are poignant and charged, a compliment of the greatest degree and for once even Cookey doesn't try and interject with a witty comment. I nod my head at Clarence, acknowledging the loss of his best friend and leader, Big Chris.
We trudge on. A group of eleven people and one dog walking through a fog bank, the like of which I have never known before. It seems to cling to us, like we’re stuck in a perpetual loop moving along the same bit of featureless road. No sense of direction or distance travelled, no sign of the sun or of anything other than the swirling clouds around us. Claustrophobic and eerie. Our footsteps seem amplified. The rustle of our wet clothes as we cause motion by walking. The chink of weapons, the coughs and deep sighs taken periodically. Nick lights a cigarette and passes his packet round. I take one, so do the lads and even Paula makes a weak joke about us being a bad influence as she lights up.
The smoke tastes foul on an empty stomach, harsh against my throat and I long for dry clothes, hot coffee, fresh food and a clean bed of white linen that Lani and I can rest in. I long for the sun to come back, dazzling and bright. We could go swimming again, splash about and do nothing, worry about nothing.
But we’re here, doing the best we can in a fuck awful situation. A band of misfits made up of such a weird bunch that you couldn’t make this shit up. I glance across at Dave to see him staring intently ahead. Every now and then he glances left and right and I notice he watches the dog very closely, as if knowing his own awesome senses are dulled so piggybacking on hers instead. She seems nonplussed, running round in circles as she sniffs the ground, never straying more than a few feet behind but ranging ahead out of view as though checking the route is clear.
We pass no junctions, no side streets or anything. Just an endless hedgerow broken only by the odd field gate or wooden step over giving access to unseen footpaths. We drink water, sipping from the bottles we carry and despite the fog, I start to sweat from the warmth and heat generated from the motion.
An hour, maybe more and we reach finally reach a junction on the left and delve deeper into it trying to find a road sign. Nick nods when we find one, ‘down there,’ is all he mutters, clearly feeling as depressed as the rest of us, ‘maybe a mile,’ he shrugs.
We set off and again fall into silence. I hope the Saxon is still here. The vehicle is as much a part of our group as any of us. To go on without it feels wrong.
It takes time to walk that mile, and it takes longer to find the way to the harbour. A small inlet, expensively built with floating wooden pontoons gated off to allow access to only the monthly fee payers. We follow Nick who tries to pick out the things he saw last night and we give him time and space with no pressure. The storm was horrendous and he was moving fast. The few glimpses we get of structures show us the damage wrought last night. Boats smashed to pieces on the hardstanding next to the harbour. Bits of brick wall lie all over the ground. A large section of a house roof is half in the shallows. Debris and things strewn everywhere and the odd corpse left smashed to bits or lying bloated and grotesquely misshapen.
The dog finds it first. Shooting off into the fog we hear her excited whine and a few playful barks. Following the noise and we all feel our spirits rising as the rear of the great vehicle looms into view. The back doors wide open with the dog standing proud in the back barking playfully while her tail goes ten to the dozen.
‘Good girl!’ Nick is the first one to her, rubbing her wet head energetically which she clearly loves.
‘Thank fuck,’ Blowers groans and immediately clambers into the back to drop his rucksack and take a grateful seat on a side bench. Stretching his legs out he leans his head back and closes his eyes. ‘I’m fucked,’ he mumbles.
‘Think we all are,’ Clarence heaves himself inside and sits down opposite Blowers, ‘it’s like being home,’ he observes looking round the inside of the vehicle, ‘poor girl, left on her own all night.’
‘I need a piss,’ Jagger eases his bag down and wanders towards the front of the vehicle as Paula and Roy climb into the back. ‘Mr Howie,’ Jagger calls out, his voice urgent. I move fast, Dave right with me as the others follow close behind.
‘You alright?’ I spot the lad staring at the front of the Saxon.
‘Yeah, seen that,’ I turn to see the same two words that were on the sign board are written on the front of the Saxon. He’s coming. The blood lines are thick and already mostly dried.
‘Fingers again,’ Paula shunts a digit with her foot. A thick and gnarly thumb still with black hairs sticking out of the topside rolls away from the Saxon.
‘Who the fuck they on about?’ Nick asks.
‘We’re here,’ I yell out, ‘right here,’ my voice seems to echo off the fog. No response, no noise at all. Shrugging I head round to the driver’s side and pull the door open. ‘Seems okay,’ I report after a quick look at the interior, ‘and yeah, it does feel like home.’ I groan in pleasure at taking the seat that now feels so familiar to me. Rubbing my eyes, I shift uncomfortably from the wet clothes. ‘Coffee,’ I announce, ‘I need coffee…’
‘Here here,’ Paula replies, ‘I’ll vote on that.’
‘We’ll have to find a house,’ Lani suggests, ‘preferably one with a gas supply.’
‘Aye, you coming up front Lani?’ I call out, selfishly wanting her to be close to me. She gets into the passenger seat and stretches her legs out, ‘everyone in?’
‘Yep,’ Blowers replies, ‘bit of a tighter squeeze now though boss.’
‘Too tight?’ I twist round and can see there is only just about enough room. Jagger and Mo Mo are only small build although I wouldn’t want to try and get anymore inside. Meredith lies down in the middle, panting away with a dripping tongue from the water just given to her by one of the lads.
‘Might be better if I swap,’ she suggests, ‘Clarence will have more room up here.’
‘I’m fine,’ Clarence replies.
‘You should definitely go up front,’ Cookey says from his position of being squashed between the end of the v
ehicle and one side of Clarence.
‘Come on,’ Lani prompts him. She reaches over to rub my leg quickly and offers me a quick peck on the cheek, ‘nice idea,’ she whispers before they swap over.
‘Hello boss,’ Clarence puts one huge hand on my leg and leans in to peck my cheek which has the lads bursting out with snorts of laughter.
‘You kiss just like Lani.’
‘Oi,’ Lani shouts.
‘We can’t go any faster than walking pace,’ I start the engine and it’s like feeling the beast come to life. An inert object given a personality and character. All of the little noises sound out, the deep thrum of the engine, the rattle of equipment and the vibration. I smile and give a sigh, the Saxon raising my spirits and giving me the motivation to carry .
Eight
To go straight back to the airfield would draw attention. Light aircraft have to file a flight plan which is passed to the local Special Branch who, having been made aware of the mass murder, will eventually seek the information from the Civil Aviation Authority. The plane will be tracked, the owners spoken to and enquiries made.
Therefore, Gregori is taken to the nearest city safe house to lay low before an exfiltration plan can be finalised, which will most likely mean a drive to the other end of the country and either a boat to mainland Europe or another private jet taking off in the middle night.
‘The boss asked how many,’ the driver plucks the courage up to ask the question, the two men in the back hold their breaths in anticipation of the answer.
‘Eighteen,’ Gregori replies, ‘men, women and children. The target was executed in the prescribed fashion.’
As the rural gives way to the urban grey of northern England, the information is relayed via a bland, coded message on a mobile phone from one of the rear seat passengers. Green to grey. Beautiful to ugly. But the ugly is functional. Not all ugly things are abhorrent. Gregori’s internal monologue knows this to be untrue. He is ugly. He is the ugly man. The bringer of death and destruction. His sole purpose in life is to seek revenge on behalf of those unable to do so for themselves. Functioning. He is like this city. Ugly but functioning. An industrial necessity. If there was no demand, this city would never become what it is. If there was no revenge to take, his special services would never be required.
