by RR Haywood
Eleven
Another coffee later and still we’re sitting on the bamboo easy chairs. It was Paula’s idea that maybe if we wait a bit, the fog will lift. So we wait. Eating shit food and drinking coffee so strong that we’re all soon talking louder, laughing louder and bouncing our feet up and down as the caffeine pulses through our veins.
‘We should go,’ Dave says.
‘Too foggy.’
‘Mr Howie, we need ammunition, weapons, doctors…we should go,’ his voice is as flat as ever but I detect an urge within those dull tones.
Sighing deeply, ‘okay,’ I reply, ‘gonna be slow going though.’
He doesn’t reply but is on his feet, already staring at the others to get moving. With many groans of complaint they get up, stretch out and start filing out of the café door towards the Saxon hidden from sight in the gloom as Meredith runs ahead.
I stop at the driver’s door and watch the rest file past me, all of them dressed in sailing dungarees with knives strapped to waists, pistols on belts, axes, swords and Roy with his bow. It’s such a strange sight, our mismatched group all wearing sailors clothes and up to the eyeballs in weapons, that I have to take a second to smile to myself. I shake my head as Cookey trips and carry on.
Clarence and I take the front, me to drive and him so he doesn’t take up the seating space of several normal sized humans. Meredith seems happy as anything having so many people giving her fuss and attention, constant ear and head rubs, but I do notice she stays closest to Nick, Lani and the two lads as though realising they are the immediate pack members.
The engine starts first time. With the vehicle and occupants ready, I stare out the window at the solid wall of cloud for about a full minute. If anything it seems denser than it was, the slight wispy nature of the rolling fog is gone. Now it’s more like a giant smoke machine has been left on.
‘Thermal imaging.’
‘What was that boss?’ Clarence snaps out of his own thoughts and leans closer.
‘Nothing mate, just thinking out loud that we could do with thermal imaging…like the police spotter planes have?’
‘Good idea,’ he nods amiably, ‘but we don’t have one.’
‘Nope.’
‘We could strap Dave and Meredith to the front,’ he suggests. We both stare back at the two of them. Dave sat closest to the front looking the same as ever, the dog sat in the middle panting heavily. I suppress a chuckle at the thought of them taped to the front of the Saxon staring into the mist with their weird freaky sixth sense sending beams out ahead.
‘Best not,’ I turn back and ease the vehicle into movement, turning the wheel to slowly navigate to where I think the road will be.
‘STOP!’ Clarence bellows and lurches forward as the brakes are slammed on. Cursing sounds from the back and there’s the sound of weapons being taken up.
‘Get the doors open,’ Dave is on his feet heading for the back. The dog, picking up on the change of tension, growls deeply and is already scratching to be let out.
‘Nick,’ Clarence twists round to glare at the young lad, who feels as though he is about to get bollocked for something. Although, he can’t think what.
‘What?’ He says in a high pitched voice.
‘Will ship radar work on a vehicle?’
Nick stares back for a second, poker faced and still. The whole vehicle goes quiet, even the dog looks over her shoulder.
‘I get it,’ Nick says slowly, ‘the fog…yes…yes, fucking yes!’ He grins, ‘shit, I should have fucking thought of that myself…fucking well done!’
‘Nick’s back,’ Cookey quips.
‘Radar is okay,’ Nick looks off to the side thinking intently.
‘Fish finder?’ Roy speaks quietly to Nick, ‘that shows depth and content, it could work if projected out towards the front.’
‘We’ll have to see what they’ve got,’ Nick glances back at Clarence, then at me, then at Roy. The excitement on his face is obvious, ‘I’ve seen fucking awesome, like, radar domes that feed the information to a small screen…’
‘Oh yes,’ Roy nods quickly, ‘we’ll be able to see what’s in front…well the lay of the land anyway, solid objects and…’
‘The boss mentioned thermal imagining,’ Clarence explains, ‘which gave me the idea.’
Roy and Nick stare at each other, lost in a world of possibilities, ‘these expensive places will have all sorts of gadgets and toys,’ Roy says.
‘Fucking yes,’ Nick is almost drooling like a zombie, ‘we got time?’ He asks me.
‘Fill your boots mate,’ I reply with a laugh, ‘guess we’re having another coffee then.’ I reverse the Saxon back and this time leave it as close to the building front as I can get. Nick and Roy go off in excited conversation while the others traipse back inside the café.
‘Nick,’ I shout before he disappears from view, ‘you got a…’ The packet of cigarettes is launched before I can finish speaking. ‘Cheers.’ I light up and lean against the front of the Saxon. I relax in my few minutes of quiet time, but I’ve already clocked Dave staying close to the door keeping his forever watchful eye on me.
‘Hey you,’ Lani strolls out, ‘no coffee. Nick disconnected the wires.’
‘Oh, never mind, had too much anyway, think I’m still shaking from the caffeine. You okay?’
‘Fine,’ she takes position next to me, shuffling closer until out shoulders and arms are touching. I feel suddenly awkward and unsure if I should put an arm round her or just stay as we are.
She laughs at my obvious dilemma and stares expectantly, ‘so?’ She asks.
‘Um…’
‘Mr Howie, you do get flummoxed easily don’t you,’ she laughs again and wraps an arm round my waist, turning me so I’m standing in front of her, ‘have I got to make all the moves?’
‘Guess so,’ I reply sheepishly.
‘I don’t mind,’ she smiles at me softly, ‘you’re worth it.’
‘Am I now?’ I don’t know quite what to say, being so out of practise with women and relationships. Do I respond with a compliment in kind or just try and stay quiet and mysterious. I worry that I’ll come across as cold and detached but then the moment passes and it’s too late to say anything at all.
‘You okay?’ She asks with concern.
I chuckle, shaking my head, ‘I was going to say the same back but then I thought it would sound cheesy so I didn’t…then I thought I should say something but then the moment passed…and I didn’t say anything…’
‘Right,’ her eyebrows lift up, ‘do you always analyse so much?’
‘Um…I er…I’m just kinda out of er…’
‘What? Practise?’
‘Well yeah,’ I nod feebly, ‘I’ve always been shit at this stuff.’
‘When was the last time you had a girlfriend?’
‘Me?’
‘No the man behind you,’ she tuts, then tuts again when I turn round to check.
‘Years ago,’ I admit.
‘Why? You’re lovely…that doesn't make sense.’
‘I’m not lovely,’ I look down, feeling embarrassed at the compliment from such a beautiful woman.
‘Oh you are,’ she keeps her eyes locked on my face, ‘dark and brooding, polite and caring…yet so dangerous too…’
‘Oh right…I guess that didn’t really translate in the supermarket.’
‘Their loss,’ she says, ‘and my gain…I like it anyway.’
‘Like what?’
‘That you’re not experienced and all suave and smooth…you get to be the hero to everyone but to me you’re…well… different.’
‘Trust me, I’m not experienced at all.’
‘At all? Are you a virgin?’
‘Fuck off! Shit…sorry, I didn’t mean actually fuck off…’
She laughs quickly, ‘you had me worried for a minute.’
‘What if I was?’ I ask quickly, ‘would that bother you?’
‘No,’ her answer is instant and firm
ly given, ‘not one bit.’
‘I might as well be…there must be, like, a period of time that means you go back to being one if you don’t have sex…’
‘That long?’ She asks me.
‘Yeah…and then I fell asleep last night,’ I say dismally, ‘and then this morning you looked so fucking sexy…’
‘Did I?’
‘Bloody right.’
‘Can I tell you something?’
‘Yeah of course.’
‘Don’t repeat it and don’t feel bad…’
‘Go on.’
‘I feel like a right gossip,’ she laughs, ‘maybe I shouldn’t say anything…no…no forget it.’
‘What?’ I smile at her, ‘you can’t leave it like that, what was it?’
‘Okay…’
‘Oh that took a lot of persuading,’ I laugh and try to mimic her voice, ‘no Howie...I’m really not saying anything…no really I’m not…stop asking me…don’t don’t torture me….’
‘Stop it,’ she giggles, trying to keep her voice down, ‘Paula and Roy?’
‘What?’ I lean in waiting for the gossip.
‘They had sex,’ she whispers with a nod, ‘last night.’
‘Really?’
‘Four times, Paula told me when we were getting changed.’
‘Four times?’ I blurt out.
‘Sssshhhh!’
‘Sorry,’ I drop back down to a whisper, ‘four times? They had it four times after all that bloody fighting and that storm? Oh no…I feel awful now.’
‘Why?’ She laughs again, clearly enjoying my distress.
‘I fell asleep on you.’
‘Actually I was on you,’ she whispers.
‘Yeah alright…bloody hell, the man is a machine…four times?’
‘Yep.’ She bites her bottom lip and looks up at me. There’s something different in her eyes, a hunger that I like the look of so I lean forward to plant my lips on hers. A long kiss follows that seems to go on and on, pleasurable, intensely building as the pressure between us grows and for a second or so, I genuinely forget where I am and what we’re meant to be doing.
‘The great thing is,’ Nick’s voice drifts into my ears, ‘we’ve got fucking loads of power to use. I mean…we could rig fucking loads of kit up in there…’
We part slowly and almost with a sense of regret that we started kissing as a little just isn’t enough. I want to take her by the hand and lead her into the thick clouds where we’ll be alone and can carry on. Ideally there will be a big bed there with soft pillows and clean sheets and surrounded by a huge electric fence fitted with machine gun turrets.
But alas, this is not so. Instead there is Nick swearing like a trooper as he finally gets someone who can understand all the stuff he knows about. Between them they have arms full of big boxes with yet more cables looped over their shoulders.
Lani gives me a look. The sort of look that implies we could have done something amazing and wonderful together but this cannot be right now. She wanders off back to the café while I squat down and finger another cigarette out from the packet while trying to hide the reaction that men get when they kiss beautiful women.
My mind flits to Marcy which imprints a sour taste in my mouth. The passion I felt with Marcy was uncontrollable and it still makes me shudder what would have happened if the dog hadn’t have intervened. I force myself to think about something else.
He’s coming. Two messages now. Who? Who the fuck is coming? I feel a sense of annoyance prickling within me, an anger that is bubbling away down in my gut. I stand up and walk towards the back of the Saxon and keep going, out into the fog. A few more steps and I’m out of sight of anyone. Breathing deep I stare round but hear nothing, see nothing. My axe is held one handed at my side. The thing is such an extension of me now that I don’t even remember picking it up.
Footsteps behind me, quiet and stealthy. ‘Dave,’ I say without looking round.
‘Yes, Mr Howie.’
He stops beside me, his hands held comfortable near the two knife hilts strapped to his belt, ready, always ready.
‘Any ideas?’
‘No, Mr Howie.’
Some fucker is coming. But who? Where from and why us again? What have we done to invite so much attention. This virus, this disease, has got enough people to take so why keep coming after us and losing so many in the process.
‘I don’t know.’ Dave frowns.
‘Don’t know what?’ I ask him.
‘I don’t know why they keep coming. Maybe they want you? Us? Our group? The losses we’ve inflicted…’
‘Dave.’
‘Yes, Mr Howie.’
‘I thought that.’
‘Thought what?’
I turn to face him, ready for the conversation, ‘can you read my mind?’
He looks back without expression, ‘you said my name out loud.’
‘I did not. I thought it.’
‘No, Mr Howie, I heard you say it.’
‘Dave, you’ve done this before. Can you read my mind?’
‘No, Mr Howie.’
‘Then how? I thought it, I know I thought it…I did not speak out loud and my fucking lips did not move, nor did sound emit from my fucking throat.’ He continues to stare with such lack of reaction that for him it can only pass as alarm that I’m swearing at him so angrily.
I’m going to run away.
No reaction.
Okay…Dave, right now I am thinking these thoughts…I want you to er…scratch your nose.
He doesn't scratch his nose.
Your nose is really itchy Dave, scratch it…scratch that nose…so itchy, so very itchy…
‘Mr Howie, why are you staring at my nose?’
‘Is it itchy?’
‘No.’
‘Not even a bit itchy?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t you want to scratch it?’
‘No.’
‘Fine.’
‘Okay, Mr Howie. Where would you go?’
‘What? Go where?’
‘If you run away? Where would you go?’
‘Right! Ha! Caught you…I fucking…’
‘You said it.’
‘I bloody did not…I thought it…like a test…’
‘You said it, Mr Howie.’
‘Don’t you Mr Howie me, Dave…I bloody thought that I know I did…how are you doing it?’
‘Doing what?’
‘Fucking hell, Dave…how are you knitting these days? I…’
‘Knitting?’
‘No, listen…how are you doing it?’
‘I don’t knit.’
‘Dave, stop it…you are doing it on purpose…how did you hear my thoughts?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘You did! You so bloody did…you heard me thinking…was it a voice? A sound in your head?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which one?’
‘Both. It was a sound in my head caused by your voice speaking.’
‘Ha! But my voice didn’t speak.’
‘It did.’
No. It bloody did not…I never said a word.
‘But I heard you.’
‘You did it again!’
‘Did what?’
‘Oh my fucking good god you are infuriating. I just thought that response and you heard it.’
‘Which one?’
‘The last one.’
‘That I am infuriating? No, you said that.’
‘No, Dave, the one before that, the thing I said…no shit…the thing I thought before I said you were infuriating.’
He just stares, then shrugs and looks away as though nothing happened, ‘we need to keep moving.’
‘Nope. Not until you tell me how you can do it?’
He shrugs again, ‘I don’t know, Mr Howie.’ A finality to his voice and I know he’ll slip back to being typically belligerent again.
‘Oh yes…oh fucking yes! Mr Howie!’ Nick’s voice bursting with excitement, ‘lads
…come and see this.’
‘To be continued, Dave,’ I remark falling into step beside him.
‘What is?’
‘You know full well.’
‘Okay, Mr Howie.’
‘Are you smiling, Dave?’
‘No.’
‘Bloody were, I saw it.’
‘I had wind, Mr Howie.’
And that rarest display of humour brings us to the Saxon. A highly excited Nick waits there, pretty much jumping up and down on the spot, with Roy at his side staring at a small device in his hands. A thick wire stretches back into the cab of the vehicle.
We gather round as Roy gives the grand display, showing the LCD screen that is filled with a mass of colours, like splodges with some defined lines. I think the grand reveal doesn't quite have the effect they were both hoping for as we all stare silently and slowly look up at Nick and Roy with blank faces.
‘Seriously?’ Nick asks looking round at us, ‘nothing?’
‘Sorry mate,’ I shrug, ‘what is it?’
‘The display from the radar equipment,’ Roy explains.
‘Awesome,’ I nod and try to look enthusiastic, ‘er…so what are the colours then?’
‘We don’t know,’ Nick beams a wide grin, ‘no fucking idea…but it’s working…’
Blowers snorts, ‘fucking great one, does it play movies cause that is useless unless we know what it means.’
‘Is that the land?’ Lani peers in.
‘No,’ Paula shakes her head and tries tracing a finger down one defined line, ‘surely that bit is the water’s edge.’
‘They must be the buildings then,’ I point to some darker splodges.
‘Er…’ Roy tilts the screen to get a better view, ‘no…I don’t think so…’
‘Get fucked!’ Jagger snaps at Mo Mo in a hiss and drawing all of our attention to the two young lads.
‘What’s up?’ I ask.
‘Nuffin’ Jagger is quick to reply, too quick.
‘Jagger can read it,’ Mo Mo blurts out.
‘You fuckin…’ Jagger spins to face his mate with a look of fury.
‘Lads, Jagger…do you know what this means?’ I interrupt them. A reluctant Jagger turns to face me and shrugs with an awesome display of attitude.
