The Reckoning (Earth Haven Book 3)

by Sam Kates

  They had spent days in a village outside Lincoln. Almost a week doing nothing. Howard wouldn’t let anyone help him to dig the grave. They sat and watched; there was little else to do unless you were Colleen, in which case you drank.

  In some weird get-up that reminded Will of an episode of Dr Who, Howard dragged the remains of his brother, sister-in-law and nephews in sheets from their bedrooms to the garden and lowered them into the grave. They watched him shovel earth and mud—it had rained a lot since they left the Celtic Manor—into the hole until it formed a low mound. Glancing at the dogs that slunk past the garden on an almost hourly basis, Howard found a wheelbarrow and used it to transport rocks from neighbouring gardens until he had enough to cover the mound.

  Finally, he nailed two lengths of wood together to form a cross and planted it between the rocks.

  Will, Bri and a rather unsteady Colleen joined Howard by the side of the cairn.

  “I used to be a religious man,” he said, “but lost my faith during a gap year as a relief worker in Thailand in 1980. They were being overrun by refugees flooding in from Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia. The condition in which they arrived, the numbers they lost along the way, the tales they told of the brutalities from which they were fleeing... how can a God that’s supposed to be about love and compassion allow these things to happen to such defenceless people? The answers offered by organised religions to these questions have never satisfied me. I have never been able to square the cruelty and indifference and suffering that abounds in this world with a loving God.” Howard paused and glanced about. “And hear that. No sounds but the wind and the crows. Even had I still been religious, the Millennium Bug would have put paid to it once and for all.” He looked back down at the grave. “My brother, Terry, was younger than me by six years. He was a good brother. His wife, Elaine, I wasn’t so keen upon, but she bore him two fine sons who reminded me of their dad. Rest easy, brother. May I be wrong and we meet again in a better place than this.”

  He bowed his head and remained that way for a few moments. When he looked up, he glanced at Colleen. “I’m ready for that drink now.”

  The next day, Howard had driven them to Skegness. Here among the gulls and rodents, the dogs and cats, they had stayed. And the sheep. Will could see them now, in the gardens and bowling greens across the road. Around a dozen of them, heads down, munching, glancing at the humans if they came near but otherwise paying them no attention.

  The cats and dogs had grown wilder. Will would no longer venture outside without Bri. The animals would approach within a few feet, spitting or snarling, jaws slavering, eyes filled with need, their centuries-long friendship with man forgotten. As soon as they detected the protective pall Bri erected around them, they slunk away, mewling or whining pitifully.

  Bri and Will had watched one starving dog try to bring down a sheep. The victim had bleated, bringing its friends on the run. Forming a tight, woolly pack around the intended meal, the sheep had driven the dog away.

  “It won’t take the dogs long to realise that they need to pack together,” commented Bri. “Then it’ll be curtains for the sheep.”

  Will had shuddered, remembering the dogs that had nearly made a meal of him in London.

  He missed Dusty. And Tom and Ceri.

  He liked Colleen well enough, but she never wanted to do anything except drink. She rarely went outside; when she did, even if in the company of Bri, she insisted on carrying a golf club that she had broken into a sports shop to obtain. Whenever a bird or animal turned its head in her direction, she’d bring the club clattering down onto the ground. Will thought that if she ever stepped outside without Bri, she was going to need more than a golf club to protect herself.

  As the weather continued to grow warmer, the corpses rotted away to reveal yellowing bones and grins that sometimes gave Will bad dreams. The supply of free meals was coming to an end and the dog population had started to turn on the cats and vermin, and each other. The sheep, as Bri had noted, would likely be next. Even with Bri’s protection, Will wondered how long it would be before the dogs came for them.

  Howard was spending more and more time with Colleen in the hotel bar. Now that Will’s and Bri’s dressings had come off and the risk of infection had passed, now that he had buried the remains of his family, he seemed without purpose. He was in the bar with Colleen, drinking whisky and smoking cigars, and it was barely midday.

  Will sighed and wondered where Bri had got to. He had spent most of the morning looking for her, all over the hotel, but there was no sign of her. He glanced back down at the street, and there she was. She looked up and saw him watching her; she waved. Will waved back and grinned. He turned and hurried down the stairs to meet her.

  “Bri! Where have you been?”

  Bri closed the hotel’s front door behind her. “Where are Colleen and Howard?”

  Will nodded towards the door that led off the reception area into the bar.

  “Already?” Bri grimaced and lowered her voice. “Do you want to leave? Get away from here?”

  He nodded. “But where… how…?”

  “I’ve sorted the ‘how’. As for the ‘where’, we can talk about that once we’re on the road. All I know is that I can’t waste any more time here.”

  “Okay.” Will had no idea what Bri meant by having sorted how they would leave. Thanks to his stupid shoulder, he would only be able to grip a bicycle handlebar with one hand so long distance cycling wasn’t an option. But Bri was probably the most clever person he had ever met; if she said she’d found a way for them to leave, he didn’t doubt it.

  “Come on then.”

  Bri started towards the bar. Will followed.

  Howard and Colleen sat on stools in front of the polished wooden counter. A grey haze hung in the air above them and the atmosphere was thick with the smell of cigar smoke. They both glanced around. Howard smiled.

  “All right, you two?” he said.

  “Fancy a drink?” said Colleen, waving with her glass towards the array of upturned bottles and optics in front of the mirror that lined the back wall.

  “No,” said Bri. “Will and I are leaving.” As Howard opened his mouth to speak, Bri held up her hand. “Remember: we agreed to come with you on condition that we wouldn’t be obstructed if we wanted to return.”

  Colleen looked at Howard. “That’s true,” she said.

  Howard glanced down at the glass in his hand. He placed it on the counter and slid it to one side. “If you want to go back,” he said, “I’ll take you.”

  Colleen nodded. “Yep. It’s what we agreed.”

  “Thanks,” said Bri, “but we can make our own way back.”

  “How?” asked Howard. “It’s a long way.”

  Will watched Bri closely; he, too, wanted to know how she intended getting them to wherever they were going.

  “I’m going to drive us back,” said Bri.

  “You can drive?” Will said.

  Bri grinned at him. “I got Joe to show me how. He owed me a favour. Peter let us use the Range Rover. And since that’s what I got used to driving, I’ve found another one in a garage just on the edge of town.” She held up a key fob. “It’s not brand new, but it’s only got four thousand miles on the clock. Plus I picked up a professional jump starter from another garage so we can get it going. We’ll take the starter with us and it can recharge through the cigarette lighter as we go along.”

  “Are you quite sure you’re confident to drive, young lady?” asked Howard.

  Bri nodded. “Peter said that the biggest danger on the roads used to be other drivers. Since I don’t have to worry about them, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Colleen was looking at Bri with a widening smile. “What about petrol?” she asked. “As we’ve found out, not every car will allow you to syphon off fuel.”

  “It’s a diesel model,” said Bri. “And I’ve found some containers of diesel in the back of the garage. They must have been keeping them for emergencies. They’re
in the back of the Range Rover now, together with a supply of snacks and drinks from the machine in the customer waiting area.”

  “You seem to have thought of everything,” said Howard. “Are you quite sure—both of you—that you want to go back?”

  Bri glanced down at Will. He nodded firmly, not wanting to leave any room for doubt.

  “I’m sure, too,” said Bri. “We’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us, but we’re a lot better now and there’s no need for us to stay with you any longer. We both miss Tom and Ceri.”

  “And Dusty,” added Will.

  Howard glanced at Colleen, who shrugged.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’ll come and see you on your way. Make sure that you can get the car started. What about the tyres?”

  “I think they’re okay,” said Bri. “If not, the jump starter also has an air compressor. Maybe you’d help me…?”

  “Of course.”

  Bri glanced at Will. “Is there anything upstairs you want to take?”

  “My backpack from Harrods.”

  “Oh, yes. I want mine, too. Then we may as well get going. We could be back by this evening.”

  Will felt a rush of excitement. Only minutes before, he had been wondering what to do with himself for the rest of the day.

  “Steady on, now,” said Howard. “There might not be other drivers on the roads, but there are still plenty of hazards: dogs, sheep, cows, abandoned cars. And you’ve not fully recovered your strength yet. Nor Will. Better to go slow and steady and spend a night in a motorway services. Most of them have motels attached. Remember: you promised to heed any medical advice. So that’s my advice. Take your time; take frequent breaks; get plenty of rest. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Colleen slung back the last of her drink. “I’m coming, too. Just need to pee and grab my club.”

  An hour or two later, Will was sitting in the passenger seat of a white Range Rover. Bri sat behind the wheel, gunning the engine, which had started first time with the aid of the plastic box on wheels. Using the same box, Howard had inflated the tyres until he was satisfied and they had said their goodbyes.

  Jerkily, forcing Will against his seat belt and making him wince at the pressure placed on his left shoulder, they pulled away from the garage. Bri turned onto the main road and began to head out of town. Will craned back and gave a last wave to Howard and Colleen before they disappeared from sight.

  The gearbox crunched and the car jerked again as Bri struggled to find the next gear.

  “Sorry. I will get the hang of it.” She found the gear and the ride smoothed out. “Take a look in the glove compartment in front of you.”

  Will opened the drop down compartment and gasped. He reached forward.

  “Careful,” said Bri. “I can’t find a safety switch, lever, whatever it’s called, and I’m not sure whether it’s loaded. So keep it pointed away and don’t touch the trigger.”

  Will laid his hand on the cold metal of the pistol. He closed his fingers around the grip and pulled it carefully out of the compartment, making sure not to let his index finger slide into the guard and over the trigger.

  “Wow,” he said. “Where did you find this?”

  “Our police have armed units,” said Bri. “I went hunting in the police station. Found the keys that opened the well-locked places. I think that’s a Glock 17. Brought plenty of spare magazines for it, too.”

  “Our own gun,” breathed Will.

  “We’re going to need it. The dogs are growing hungry and soon may not pay any attention to my aura. When we stop for the evening we’ll have a go. Make sure we know how to use it.”

  “Me, too?”

  “Of course. But best not let any adults know we’ve got it. They can be a little weird about stuff like this.”

  Will carefully—reverentially—replaced the pistol and closed the glove compartment. “Our own gun,” he mused. “Bri?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s stop soon.”

  * * * * * * *

  It had been more than a week since Jason Grant had seen Milandra. He knew from the depleting stores in the adjoining cottage that she had been out to fetch more food. He had packed the remaining supplies in the back of the car he’d made ready for their drive down the coast.

  There was nothing more he could do in this village. He was satisfied that he had packed all the available food and bottled water. All the petrol he could syphon was in containers in the car’s trunk. Diesel, too.

  He had been in contact with George Wallace, who informed Grant that he had located a portable diesel generator in a council depot and had taken it to the hotel. It was waiting for Grant to arrive to hook the hotel up to it. He had offered to share the knowledge of how to connect the hotel to the generator, but Wallace had declined.

  We can wait Wallace had sent. The Chosen is bored out of her tiny mind now that she’s killed all the drones, and is hankering for watching movies or playing computer games. Won’t hurt her none to wait a few more days…

  He had sounded almost gleeful.

  Grant had also been in touch with Tess Granville. The switching on of the power grid had gone well. There had been no fires; having the drones switch off appliances had paid off. Rats had become less of a problem. Tess suspected that London’s vermin population was being kept down by cats and dogs now that the ready supply of corpses had dwindled with the onset of milder weather. Dog attacks on drones were increasing. Tess had diverted half of the teams from catching rats to dealing with feral dogs.

  New teams had been set up to capture humans who had been coming to the U.K. from continental Europe and, to Tess’s puzzlement, from the U.S.A.

  I’ve probed some of them she sent. They heard a voice telling them to come. It said something about a final reckoning for mankind. It must have been Ronstadt, though I wouldn’t have thought he’d be powerful enough, even with Heidler’s help, to reach the States. There could be more outside London. Maybe we should send teams out to comb the rest of the country for them.

  Hmm. It’s mysterious Grant sent back. But don’t waste time sending teams out of London. If humans are amassing outside the city, I suspect you’ll know about it soon enough.

  You mean, they might attack us? Best make sure everyone’s armed and alert.

  Yep sent Grant. They would be foolish to attack—it won’t help their cause—but we know from their history that they often choose the foolish path. If you are attacked, let me know immediately.

  The influx of humans to London dried to a trickle a week ago, Tess reported, and they hadn’t picked up any new ones for days. All told, around nine hundred new drones had been created in the past two months.

  Wembley Stadium had been cleared of human remains and was ready to host a Commune, if required. With a seating capacity of ninety thousand, it would comfortably hold them all. Milandra could be seated on the football pitch to harness the minds of seventy-five thousand people and set them free to reach every surviving human throughout the world.

  No. Not Milandra; more likely the incoming Keeper. Milandra would do what was required of her, but Grant knew that she would prefer this task, if it fell to be performed, be carried out by another.

  He arrived at the edge of the village and made for the bench where he had last seen her. It had rained for most of the past week and Grant had taken advantage of today’s break in the weather to take a stroll along the coastal path. He had been admiring the clifftop views when Milandra summoned him.

  The bench came into sight and Grant could see her sitting in the sunlight. She seemed different. A little more hunched, a touch less plump, flashes of grey at the sides of her head…

  “You look older,” he said as he reached her.

  Milandra turned to look up at him. Her face was lined; dark bags hung beneath her eyes. She offered him a wan smile.

  “Come, Jason. Join me.”

  He sat. “You found everything you were looking for?”

  “They
were Sivatra’s memories. And it was she who hid them away. The final memories I needed to complete the story were even better hidden. Took me a week to locate them.”

  “She didn’t want them to be easily found. Why?”

  The look that passed across Milandra’s face was so dark that Grant almost recoiled. “Sivatra made it difficult for her memories to be found with good reason.” She sighed. “Jason, I can’t tell you the entire story now. I will, but when we reach the hotel. The others need to hear this, too, and I’m too tired to tell it more than once.”

  “Are you ready to leave? The car’s good to go.”

  She nodded. “You’re a good man, Jason. Near everyone else I know would be pestering me to tell them what I learned. Not you. You simply shrug and accept that I’ll tell you later.” She smiled, but it faded almost as soon as it appeared. “Know this: everything we’ve thought about our past is wrong. Not just wrong. It’s deliberately wrong.”

  Grant felt the first stirring of unease. “A lie, then?”

  “Yes. A lie. A great big whopping lie.”

  * * * * * * *

  Peter reappeared from behind the outbuilding. “There’s a hotel back there, overlooking the sea. We’ve definitely found them. They have a red double-decker London bus and I just saw Lavinia Cram. Haven’t seen her since Florida in the 1930s.”

  “She didn’t see you?” asked Diane.

  Peter shook his head. “I kept well hidden.”

  “Milandra calls them her ‘Deputies’. I still can’t sense her.”

  “Me neither. She’s the Keeper. When she wants to be incommunicado, she can make her psyche invisible. And we daren’t try to probe any of the others. The only one who might be receptive is Jason Grant, but I barely know him. Yes, he helped us that morning at Stonehenge, but he might have just been doing Milandra a favour and considers me a traitor like the others do.”

  It was for this very reason that Diane had questioned the wisdom of their approaching the Deputies, but Peter had been adamant.

  “If we can get them on mankind’s side,” he’d argued, “then there might be some chance of persuading the newcomers that humanity’s time isn’t necessarily up.”