by RR Haywood
We move off and this time I lean against the wheel arch instead of sitting on it. Legs stretched out, I try to think but the thoughts seem jumbled now, contrary and confused. It’s like I’ve made the right decision so my brain no longer needs to compute it all, and I feel weary too, completely drained yet with a sense of an impending journey ahead of us.
‘How much of that did you hear?’ I ask the question casually, idly watching Dave to see how he reacts.
‘All of it.’
‘So you are in my head then.’
‘I heard everything you said, Mr Howie.’
‘And the things I didn’t say out loud, don’t give me that plain face, Dave.’
‘It’s my face,’ he shrugs, ‘it’s always plain.’
‘And don’t change the subject.’
He stays quiet. Back to normal Dave, impossible to read as ever. ‘Mate,’ I lean forward to fully get his attention, ‘this is some serious stuff going on…so…come on.’
‘What?’
‘Can you read my mind?’
‘Read your mind?’
‘Telepathic or something.’
‘Telepathic?’
‘Stop repeating my words back, you can hear me perfectly well…we need to be open with each other, Dave…’
‘I’m always honest to you, Mr Howie,’ despite his typical devoid of expression countenance, there is a flicker of hurt on his features.
‘Honesty and openness are not the same.’
‘Aren’t they?’ he says with a mild look of confusion, ‘how are they different?’
‘Well, you know…like honesty is answering questions and being…well being honest but openness is being…well being open…’
‘And honest?’
‘Yeah, honest…no! Not honest, well…yes honest but honest in a different way.’
‘So there are different ways of being honest?’
‘No Dave, honest is honest and yes, you are honest but sometime I don’t think you are entirely open with me.’
‘But if I’m honest…then how is that not being open?’
‘Um…right, so let’s say I ask you a question right? You would give an honest answer, yes?’
‘Of course.’
‘But, let’s say I didn’t ask the question in the first place. Would you volunteer the information without being asked?’
‘Why would I?’
‘What? What do you mean, why would I? If I asked a question and you answered honestly well that is being honest, but by me not asking the question but you not giving the answer without being asked the question, that’s not being open.’
‘Okay, you want me to give you answers without you asking questions?’
‘Yes! What? Oh fuck’s sake, Dave. No, you’re doing that thing again.’
‘What thing?’
‘This thing, this belligerent thing.’
‘I’m autistic.’
‘Oh don’t pull that one on me…hang on, maybe you’re like those kids that can draw big houses…’
‘I can’t draw very well.’
‘No I mean, like…oh what are they called?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You know, the kids that can look at a big house once then draw it exactly perfect but just from memory from that one time they saw it…what are they called?’
‘I don’t know, weird?’
‘No! Not weird…well yeah, I mean it is weird to do that but…they are autistic but they have a gift, like a special talent…but only in that one thing…’
‘I can kill people,’ he offers, ‘I’m good at that.’
‘Yeah I don’t think that can count as a special gift mate. No, thinking about it, yeah it is a gift so maybe…maybe that is your special gift.’
‘I’m autistic with a gift for killing.’
‘Savant!’
‘Pardon?’
‘Those people who are autistic but have the special gifts, they’re savants. You could be a savant.’
‘I’m English, Mr Howie.’
‘No, it isn’t a place, Dave. It’s the word given to people who have autism but also have the really awesome special talents.’
‘A savant.’
‘Yes, mate.’
‘A savant killer?’
‘Yes…oh you bugger! You almost did it again.’
‘Did what again, Mr Howie?’
‘Changed the subject, right…I was saying your gift could be mind-reading, like you are autistic but you can read minds.’
‘No. I struggle with my own mind, Mr Howie. Someone else’s mind would be…’
‘Okay, maybe not full mind-reading but you can hear my thoughts.’
‘No, I don’t think so, Mr Howie.’
Yes you can.
‘No, I really don’t think so.’
‘Ha! Got you. I didn’t say a word then.’
‘We’re here,’ Blowers shouts back.
‘Course we are,’ I mutter, ‘this conversation isn’t over.’
‘You’ve said that before, Mr Howie.’
We jump out the back of the van and another quick look shows me that the doctors of the south coast have no imagination when it comes to house buying. Clearly there must be some rule that stipulates they have to reside in a bland as fuck, detached, executive style house on the edge of a posh estate, oh and with enough parking for Avis rental to open a depot.
‘Doors been opened recently,’ Clarence says viewing the front door and the obvious signs of opening with a nice arc through the debris of leaves, litter and all manner of stuff that has blown into the recessed doorway.
‘They should have put a sign out for the milkman,’ I reply, ‘might have been less obvious.’
‘No cars,’ Blowers indicates the vast and empty driveway.
‘Garage is shut, probably in there,’ Nick points up to the black gloss painted double swing-up doors.
‘Knocking or going in?’ Clarence asks.
‘Best knock,’ I get to the door and instinctively look for the doorbell, then remember the power is off so the doorbell won’t work. Instead I use the brass knocker and hope we haven’t terrified the hell out of anyone inside. ‘Hello?’ holding my mouth close to the door I yell out a few times, ‘we’re not going to hurt anyone and we don’t want to break your door…is there a doctor in there?’
‘Heard movement,’ Dave mutters.
‘Right, er…listen!’ I shout again, ‘we’re from one of the forts on the coast. We’ve got hundreds of people there with food, supplies and er…safety,’ I try not to cough when I say the last word given the track record of the fort so far, which probably makes it the least safe place at the moment, ‘and we’ve got medicines and all sorts of things…but we don’t have a doctor…we went to a local hospital and found the personnel records so we know a doctor is living here…please! We need medical expertise.’
We wait in silence, listening in hope to the tread of feet coming from inside, ‘Dave,’ I whisper, ‘you hear anything?’
‘Not now,’ he replies.
‘Can’t blame them, I wouldn’t answer to us,’ Paula says, ‘can I try?’
‘Be my guest,’ I offer her the doorway and step back to watch the windows, ‘everyone try and look a bit less threatening.’
‘How we doing that then?’ Cookey asks.
‘Use your imagination, just…well…spread out and look like a disciplined unit.’
‘Which you should have done anyway,’ Dave shoots a glare at Blowers.
‘Hi,’ Paula has a go at shouting, ‘I’m Paula, I work with Mr Howie…have you heard of him? He was the man you just heard shouting…’
‘Nice idea,’ Clarence nods in approval.
‘Movement,’ Dave mutters.
‘Keep going,’ I nod at Paula.
‘We’re from Fort Spitbank, we did have it all rigged up for safety but the storm has set us back a bit…we’ve got a large group of children that need medical attention, plus food, weapons and structure…we have rule
s and…’
‘Movement,’ Dave mutters again.
‘Look, we’re really sorry if we are scaring you, tell us to go and we’ll go straight away but we need a doctor, we need medical experts and…and another thing…a few in our group are immune…they’ve been bitten but…’
‘Voices,’ Dave turns his head slightly to one side. I look round for Meredith to see her head cocked in exactly the same manner as Dave.
‘Male and female?’ I ask quietly.
‘Female and at least two males.’
‘Shit, Dave. You’ve got the hearing of a bat mate.’
‘Bats use sonar, Mr Howie.’
‘I know, it was a figure of speech.’
‘I don’t use sonar.’
‘I know, Dave, it was a figure of speech…’
‘They have poor eyesight too.’
‘Forget the bloody bats…can you hear anything now?’
‘I don’t know, you were talking too much.’
‘Obtuse…not, just forget what obtuse is…’ I hold my hand up as he turns to say something.
‘I know what obtuse is,’ he blanches, ‘I was going to say the voices are getting closer.’
‘Hello?’ Paula shouts again, ‘really, we mean you no harm. We are good people…we have soldiers with us and I’m an accountant…’
‘Don’t tell ‘em that,’ Cookey jokes, ‘they’ll never open up now.’
‘Pardon? Can you come a bit closer please, I didn’t hear you,’ Paula shouts at the muffled voice coming from within.
‘They’re arguing,’ Dave explains.
‘I can hear them now,’ Paula nods.
‘Up top,’ Blowers calls out, directing us to all peer up at the adult man staring down from an upstairs window.
‘Hi,’ I try to offer a non-threatening wave, ‘we’re really sorry to disturb you but…’
Another man appears beside the first, one bearded but the other is clean shaven.
‘Hey,’ I wave at the both, ‘I’m Howie,’ I call out, ‘and…oh hi,’ I say again when the window opens. They both look worried and nervous but not terrified, ‘er…which one is the doctor?’
‘We both are,’ the bearded man says in a deep cultured voice, ‘you’re Mr Howie?’
‘I am, Sir,’ I nod seriously, ‘and I am truly sorry to do this…but as Paula said, we need help.’
‘Have you heard of us?’ Lani asks softly. Looks between the two men and the bearded one nods. ‘We have,’ he says, ‘one of our group met someone a few days ago who said about the fort and a Mr Howie…how do we know you’re really Mr Howie?’
‘Er…well I guess you don’t,’ I look round at the others, ‘but er…well that is Dave,’ I point at Dave, ‘and Clarence, Lani…Cookey, Blowers and Nick…that’s Meredith and the others are Paula, Roy, Jagger and Mo Mo…’
‘She said that man mentioned some of those names…’ the unbearded doctor says, ‘small one and a big one,’ the bearded doctor replies, ‘how did you find us?’ He asks guardedly.
‘From the personnel records at the local hospital…it was Paula’s idea, we’re desperate for a doctor and…’
‘You said something about immunity,’ the bearded one cuts me off quickly.
‘That’s right Sir, ‘I’m immune…so is Cookey over there and Lani…the dog too.’
‘What? Three of you?’ Suspicion is evident in his voice, a large group of armed people at his door with three of them pertaining to be immune.
‘Er…look,’ I unclasp the sailor trousers straps to pull them down so I can shrug my top off, ‘I got bit here,’ I point to the wound on my shoulder, ‘and here…and here…these are all bites…from the things…’ saying the word zombie to two doctors doesn't feel right.
‘This is mine…’
‘Cookey! Put your backside away,’ Clarence orders at the sight of Cookey dropping his trousers to show them the wound on the back of his leg. ‘Sorry about that,’ the big man offers politely.
‘I was just showing my bite mark,’ Cookey grumbles, ‘and I’ve got underpants on.’
‘For the first time,’ Blowers coughs into his hand.
‘Yeah you wish,’ Cookey laughs, ‘bet you got a right good look.’
‘Lads! Not now,’ I give them both a glare, ‘sorry, er…so, how many in your group?’
‘Four,’ the bearded doctor says.
‘It says here there is a Doctor Stone here,’ Paula checks the folder then looks up.
‘That’s right,’ the bearded doctor replies.
‘Okay,’ she says, ‘which one is Doctor Stone?’
Another glance between the two men, ‘we both are,’ the clean shaven man says.
‘Oh really,’ Paula takes a further step away to get a better view, ‘you don’t look like brothers.’
‘You said you have children at this fort? And they’re hurt? What’s wrong with them?’ The bearded Doctor Stone asks.
‘No, we’ve got children that need medical help but…not actually injured…we’ve got an A and E nurse with us…’ I explain, ‘well, not with us here but back at the fort…he’s doing really well but…well, even he says he can’t deal with anything that serious.’
‘A and E nurses are worth their weight in gold,’ the same Doctor Stone says.
‘Oh he is, but…he’s not a doctor and as Roy said,’ I point to Roy, ‘what if someone gets food stuck in their throat or…a heart attack…plus none of us know anything about all the medicines we’ve got and we’ve got equipment too that the previous doctor told us to get but…’
‘Who was that?’
‘Doctor Roberts, from London…he specialised in er…tropical diseases or something I think…’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Died, Sir. Along with many others after the things got inside…but we er…we took it back and now it’s secure again.’
Clarence steps closer to me, ‘the fort was on a spit…’ he starts to explain.
‘I know Fort Spitbank.’
‘You do? Then you know the flat area after the estate? Well that’s all gone…the storm last night,’ Clarence says.
‘So we’re sealed off now,’ Paula jumps in, ‘the only way is by boat.’
‘You understand our concerns I’m sure,’ the doctor says gravely, ‘armed people at our door and we have no way of knowing if you are who you say you are.’
‘True,’ I nod, ‘but if we were bad we could have kicked the door in and taken what we need, which we haven’t done. And we won’t,’ I add quickly as the mere mention of threat has the bearded man standing more upright, ‘we’ll go if you tell us. We’ve got more houses to try and…’
‘Who have you tried already?’ the clean shaved doctor asks Paula.
‘Er, we’ve tried…Doctor Bridger…Doctor er…Johnson and…’
‘Were they dead?’ The younger, clean shaven doctor asks.
‘We don’t know,’ I reply, ‘the houses were empty and er…destroyed but the last place was sealed up…it looked like the occupants were away when it happened?’
‘Doctor Carol,’ Paula reads out.
‘Yes,’ he nods, ‘Michelle Carol, she was on holiday in Jamaica…’
‘Can you give us a minute to talk please,’ the bearded Doctor asks.
‘Of course, please…take your time,’ I motion with my hand and make a point of moving away from the house while nodding at the others to do the same.
‘What do you think?’ Roy asks once we’re safely out of earshot from the house.
‘Two for the price of one with a bit of luck,’ I reply with a glance to Lani, ‘turning down food, supplies and security is going to be hard for them…’
Paula nods, listening intently while she looks back at the house, ‘the brothers must have got together when it happened, safety in numbers or something…probably got their wives in there too.’
Idle chat is made. Idle chat tinged with an almost palpable sense of excitement that finally we might get an actual real doc
tor.
‘They didn’t seem that bothered about you being immune,’ Clarence says thoughtfully.
‘They’re doctors, they won’t assume anything,’ Roy replies, ‘they’ll think we’ve got it wrong and in actual fact it was a badger that bit them.’
‘Badger,’ Cookey snorts, ‘that’s funny.’
‘I’ll tell you what’s funny,’ I turn to face the grinning lad, ‘is you showing your arse to two bloody doctors…’
‘Sorry,’ the smile fades slightly but I can see he’s unfazed, ‘I wanted to show my bite…and give Blowers a quick thrill.’
‘Twat,’ Blowers snaps.
‘Gayboy,’ Cookey retorts.
‘Buttmuncher.’
‘Shit poker.’
‘Enough.’
‘Sorry, Dave.’
‘Sorry, Dave.’
‘Aye up chuckies,’ Cookey announces, ‘the door doth open.’
‘Doth? You’re a freak,’ Blowers sighs.
‘Stay here, Lani and Paula with me,’ I move towards the house and watch as the brother doctors appear in the doorway, ‘would you rather we weren’t armed?’ I call out.
‘Er…I don’t think it…’
‘Yes please,’ the bearded Doctor Stone cuts his more affable brother off.
‘Pistols and shotguns,’ I hand mine to Dave and wait while the other two do the same, ‘is that okay?’
‘Yes…fine…just you three then, er…you’d better come inside.’
‘Sure?’ I ask before moving, ‘only if you are entirely comfortable.’
‘Of course we’re bloody not,’ he snaps, ‘but we’d better hear you out.’
We cross the vast, empty driveway that could double for a landing strip for light aircraft and into the open door. A slight English shuffle takes place while the two doctors realise they are effectively blocking the doorway but clearly don’t want to move away and leave it entirely exposed. Funny really when you think about it, the bloody driveway is big enough for a nuclear submarine but the front door and porch are tiny.
With lots of polite excuse me and oops, sorry we get inside and wait patiently while the affable Doctor Stone closes the door, leaving the bearded Doctor Stone to lead the way down the hallway into the kitchen at the back.
The décor is as expected. Neutral, bland and everything is beige or shades thereof. The brothers are close by the looks of the pictures of them on the walls, in fact it looks a bit weird but then people are weird.
