Occupation

by Dave Lacey

  “You know me, doll, I don’t trust those fuckers at all.”

  Marl looked at Eric and shook his head. “It’s a bad idea, E, and deep down I think you know it.” Marl put his hands on hips and shook his head like he was much smarter than everybody else.

  Eric snorted, folding his arms across his chest. “So I guess I’m outvoted?” he said, his bottom lip sticking out sulkily.

  Jack chose that moment to make himself obvious. He stepped from the cover of the mound and coughed theatrically, one hand over his mouth. All three ragged looking members of the group spun round, knees flexing and hands flying to mouths.

  “Sorry to barge in on you guys, but I couldn’t help but overhear. I think they’re right, Eric, you shouldn’t trust anybody you don’t know,” Jack said, holding his hands out in front of him to show they were empty.

  “Yeah, and who the fuck’re you?” Eric asked him, his voice trembling slightly, his hands scrabbling at his pockets.

  “Just a passerby, a wanderer,” Jack said, as earnestly as he could. They looked at him, eyes guarded and mouths tight lipped. “You guys know what waits around the bend?” Jack indicated past them with his chin, where the path continued on. “You seen another group, about twenty something people in it?” He paused for a heartbeat. “Heading south maybe?”

  “Maybe,” the woman replied, her voice noncommittal, her eyes looking beyond Jack. “Why are you so interested?” she asked him, finally making eye contact.

  “Well, I got separated from them, a ways back. And I really would like to catch up with them.” He was careful not to mention the chasing group. They might have links to them, and he had no quarrel with these three.

  “How did you get separated from them?” Marl asked him. It seemed he was the brains of the outfit.

  “It’s a long story, Marl, and I gotta tell ya I’m not getting any closer to them standing here,” Jack said, smiling a tight smile, and flicking his eyebrows up and down. “Can you help or not?” Jack asked. All three looked at him, but it was Marl who nodded.

  “We saw ‘em. If it’s the same crew. They had lots of kit with ‘em, guns and stuff.” Marl’s face was grave, his eyes curious.

  “When?” Jack asked, licking his lips. His sense of excitement was getting the better of him.

  “What’s it worth to ya?” Eric asked him, clearly not the brains of the outfit. Jack bridled a little at this, though he bit down on it quick enough.

  “Now now, Eric,” said Marl. “That’s not the way we deal with friends, is it? And we are friends aren’t we...?” Marl waited for Jack’s name.

  “Jack, the name’s Jack.” He could feel his right hand twitching slightly from the desire to bring his gun to bear. He wanted to get this done quickly, but he doubted very much that the gun would get it done.

  “Good to meet you, Jack,” Marl said, smiling as he hitched up his trousers.

  “I can’t give you my gun, and I don’t have much food,” Jack said. Not the greatest bargaining standpoint, he thought.

  “That doesn’t leave much now does it, Jack?” Marl said, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of his trousers. “Not that we’re bargaining with you here of course.”

  This was not turning out how Jack had hoped. “What do you want?” he asked, sighing and hooking his own thumbs behind the straps of his backpack. He glared at Marl.

  “Hey look, don’t misunderstand us here, Jack. We have nothing. We decided we didn’t want to live in a big community, being told what to do all the time, with someone else the master of our collective fates.” Marl paused, taking a step forward. Jack felt his hand twitch again.

  Marl sensed Jack becoming impatient, but he continued on with his lazy, drawling delivery. “Hey, look, we want to help. But we need everything we can get out of life. If you have anything that might be of use, we’d be grateful. Your friends went that way.” Marl turned and pointed, slightly right of the path. “Around three hours ago.”

  Jack nodded, his body relaxing. “Look, I’m sorry, but, well, we’re on a mission. Something that could, well, it just might be big for us. For all of us. For mankind.” Jack was suddenly lost; he couldn’t find the words. It seemed such a ridiculous thing to say to these random strangers, who must think him mad.

  He looked at the three faces before him, and felt his knees and his resolve weaken. They were doing it for people such as these three. They were doing it so that they might all have a future. “I know it sounds silly, mad even, but it’s true. Those people up ahead, and me, we’re looking for something. If we find it, and some other people who told us about it are right, then, who knows.” Jack shrugged.

  They were looking at him like he was mad. But it didn’t matter. He felt a sudden rush of affection for these three strangers. Thin, hungry and dirty, they needed all the help they could get. “Come with me.” he said. “Help me, and we’ll help you. We can give you some equipment.

  Maybe some food, and we can point you in the direction of a community that you can trust. We could trade with you, help you.” He paused. His words were coming in a rush, and the three before him looked a little frightened. “I know how it sounds, but trust me, it’s all possible. What I just said, it’s all possible.”

  The three stood before him, Marl chewing the inside of his cheek, Eric standing with his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed, and the woman squinting, an appraising look in her eyes.

  “That’s a big thing you’re asking there, my friend. A big thing,” Marl said.

  “I know, but it would really help me out, and in the long term it would really help you out too,” Jack just about stopped short of begging.

  “We don’t even know you,” said the woman. “How do we know your friends won’t just kill us when we get there?”

  “Fair enough,” replied Jack, “but then why wouldn’t I just kill you now? I have a gun.” He patted the barrel of the rifle slung across his chest. “But I still don’t have your name,” he said, looking at the woman.

  “We haven’t helped you get to them yet, there’s no sense in killing us before we help you. She’s Eileen by the way,” Marl stated, folding his arms.

  Jack nodded again, holding out his hands and smiling. “Yeah, you got me there. But why would we kill you? What would we have to gain?” he said.

  “Three less mouths to feed is one thing, and maybe you and your friends ain’t as nice as you make out,” Marl said.

  Jack had an idea, not a great one, but it might get him there. “You carry the gun then,” he said, holding it out. “As a show of trust.” Jack arched an eyebrow in question. Marl’s expression changed a little, though he tried to mask it. His eyes had been about to fly wide. He also licked his lips, a gesture he couldn’t suppress. Marl looked at his companions. They looked at him.

  “We gonna need a minute, to talk this over, you know?” Marl said to Jack.

  Jack’s lips compressed and he nodded once. “Of course, just bear in mind I really need to catch up with them, and I’m a little lame.” He smiled, hoping it was a winning one.

  The three companions shuffled off a few yards to hold conference. Their heads came together. There were gestures and whispered exchanges. Eric shook his head a great deal; Eileen barely moved. After a couple of minutes, they turned and strolled back to Jack.

  “Okay, we accept. But if anything funny happens, we won’t be happy about it,” Marl said, folding his arms again.

  Jack smiled his relief. They were a funny little team, but he liked them already.

  After a mile, they fell into a rhythm, and they began to talk. Jack did his best to get to know each of them, without intruding. He figured they had been through a lot. Most people who’d survived to this point had. And so he tried to steer clear of treading on toes. He told them about the community, how it functioned, who ran it.

  He told them the good bits, and the bad. He didn’t want to paint a brittle picture of a perfect life. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t oppressive either. They listened, and gave
little away. Jack thought he detected pain beneath their outwardly light hearted veneers. After three hours of walking, they rested.

  Jack shared out the remainder of his temporary rations. They wanted to cook the animal, a small hare. Some animals survived by living off weeds, and there were still a great many of those in the world. Jack was amazed at their resourcefulness. He convinced them to wait. Cooking smoke would give away their position, and the last thing he wanted was the other group to see it.

  He still hadn’t told them about them, so he used ‘Lander patrols as his excuse. Then a thought struck him. They were going about this the wrong way; he wasn’t moving any faster now that he walked with them.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “What would you say to going on ahead without me and catching up with my friends? You could ask them to wait for me. The way we’re going at the moment, we’re not gaining on them. But you three would be much faster without me to slow you down.” He looked around at the faces opposite him.

  Marl spoke. “What about the rifle?”

  Jack scraped his teeth over his top lip and swallowed. There was no way for him to answer this without it looking like he was reneging on his deal. “You keep the gun. I’ll just have to manage without it. We made a deal,” he said, as sincere as he could make it. He looked right into Marl’s eyes, hoping he would take the hint and offer the gun.

  “Okay, that’s a deal. We’ll go find your friends for you, and we’ll keep the gun as security.” Jack’s head rocked back with surprise, as his three companions stood abruptly and dusted the seats of their pants off.

  “Oh, okay, that’s fine,” Jack said. He realized he had no food left either. He shook his head in disbelief. He was quite the negotiator. Marl, Eric and Eileen gathered their meagre possessions and stood before him. Marl had slung the rifle over his shoulder, his left hand resting on the barrel.

  “You sure you’re gonna be okay on your own?” Marl asked.

  Jack stifled a sarcastic laugh. You’ve taken my rifle and eaten all my food, what do you think? A voice shouted in his head. “Of course, I’ve been in worse situations.” Jack smiled, not caring if it was convincing or not.

  “Okay, we’ll be off then,” Marl said, lifting his eyebrows and nodding slowly.

  “How will you track them?” Jack asked, frowning, the thought having just occurred to him.

  Marl smiled. “Same way we tracked and caught the hare. That’s the thing we’re really good at.” Pride shone in all their faces. Jack felt a small measure of relief.

  “You’re looking for a group of twenty-three people,” he explained. “The leader is a tall guy, grey hair, glasses, his name’s Bill. They’re all armed. My sister is with them, Millie, and my best friend, Smithy. They’ll take care of you. They’re good people.” Jack sat on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. Sadness descended on him. He had just given away all of his food and his only weapon to three strangers, whom he may never see again. It was too late to change thatnow.

  Marl was watching him, and he smiled. “Don’t worry, Jack, we’ll find your friends. And we’ll make them wait for you.” The three turned and walked off.

  “I bloody well hope so,” Jack muttered to their retreating backs.

  Chapter 27

  Millie walked in a self-imposed isolation. She was too embarrassed to walk with the others. And, to be honest, she wasn’t convinced anybody wanted her company right now. It had been six hours since the flare incident. She was sorry that she’d put everyone at risk, but not sorry that she’d done it.

  And she had been going through a period of self-reflection ever since. Smithy was right, of course – she had known they would stop her, so she hadn’t told anyone she was going to do it. She frowned as she walked. She had no idea what drove her compulsion to just do what she wanted, regardless of the impact on others.

  She was at the point of stopping everyone and apologizing when there came a ‘hit the ground’ signal from the front. As one, the unit dropped to their bellies. Their kit clattered as they hit the ground, then there was silence, except for the sound of twenty-three people breathing hard through their mouths, adrenaline causing an anxiety response in all of them. Then Millie heard it. The sound of more bodies moving lower down the slope. Bill was shinning his way across the ground, trying to reach a point where he could look down and see who, or what, it was.

  There was no chatter from the other group, just the sound of bodies and gear moving. She could feel the tension in the air, and wondered if those below could feel it too. There must have been quite a few of them. The sounds went on for several minutes. Then she heard voices. Not ‘Landers then. People. Just as dangerous. It shouldn’t be that way, but it was. It sounded a lot like they were stopping. Then she heard a distinct sentence. Her bowels turned to ice.

  “...can’t be too far away. It’s about six hours since we saw it. Though we could be headed in totally the wrong direction.” The rest was harder to decipher. Millie felt certain they were talking about the flare. And she felt that everyone around her knew it too. Shit. Then more words came through. “...if we find them, we take them down, simple as. They must have decent gear, and they may have food too.”

  Someone else chimed in. “Not sure I like the idea of that, just killing a bunch of people.” Millie warmed to this person immediately.

  “Look, it’s dog eat dog these days, Manny. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do,” the cocky one answered.

  “Yeah, I guess. Not kids though. If there’s kids, we leave them alone.”

  “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” The cocky one laughed as he finished. “Totally alone.”

  Bill pulled carefully back from the lip, his face tight with anger. He signalled to the rest of them to follow him, away from the new threat. None of them made any sound, hard as that was. They got thirty or so yards away, then Bill pulled Smithy and Nick into a huddle. Millie itched to be in there, planning their next move. But she realized it would be some time before she made amends for her mistake. She watched, trying desperately to hear anything that was said, but they were too quiet.

  Then there was a fair bit of nodding, and the group of three broke away from each other. They were going to use small groups to communicate the next steps. Smithy approached her and waved three others closer. All five of them gathered into a huddle. Smithy began to whisper.

  “There are around ten of them. Bill thinks we should take them down, here, now. If we wait, and try to avoid them, we think it will only make the situation worse. If we get hit by them in the night, or at some other time when we’re at a disadvantage, we’re screwed.” Smithy looked at all four faces in front of him, his own tension reflected. “Any major objections?” Now he looked right at Millie. He was obviously expecting her to object, to stir things up.

  She bridled a little, feeling a hot flush up the back of her neck. She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “Okay, good,” Smithy continued. “No guns. That’s the stipulation, it’s too dangerous. And too loud.” For the next minute, he continued with the plan. Bill, Nick and Mark had moved off to explain to their groups. Millie watched their faces, tension, and then the slight thrill of excitement. Their eyes glistened and their cheeks flushed. Next came selection. Not everybody was required. Bill and Smithy figured it wouldn’t be necessary.

  Millie waited. She knew it was just out of bloodlust that she wanted in, because the waiting was always harder than the doing, but she assumed she wouldn’t be included. She fussed over her kit, silently checking and re-checking her belongings. She took out her hunting knife, made sure the lanyard that held it in its sheath came away smooth and quick. There was nothing worse than reaching for a knife that became snagged at the wrong moment.

  Then her fear was confirmed. She wasn’t going over the top. Smithy came to her and shook his head. She bit down everything she wanted to shout at him. She shoved her hands into her pockets, where they continued to fidget and fret. She could feel her fac
e heating up, her eyes beginning to blur.

  She could see the muscles at the hinge of Smithy’s jaw tighten. She knew this would be hard for him, and she knew she had to at least attempt to take it well. She just nodded at him, then gripped his arm. He gave a small grin, and turned away. She watched him go, joining the others and to begin the preparations.

  She shook herself, loosening her arms, neck and shoulders. It made her feel a little better, but not a great deal. Five minutes later, Smithy, Bill and their chosen team went over the lip.

  Jack was alone. Very alone. This was nothing new, but without his rifle he noticed it more keenly. He felt naked, and vulnerable. And he was hungry. His stomach was making very strange sounds. But on he walked. His stick was a life saver. Yet he was not convinced he was going to make it, stick or no.

  The ankle joint, the ligaments and tendons, felt loose, like they wanted to roll over every step he took. And it just seemed to get worse when he rested. He estimated that he was thirty miles from home, with another three hundred and something to go.

  His mind ran through the possible scenarios. He could turn back, but he knew he wouldn’t do that. He would go on, but he would need something to help. A smart splint could be just the thing. Something short enough that it didn’t inhibit the motion of his leg, strapped tight. The other thing that occupied his mind was the group that were in pursuit. Jack was convinced they were breathing down his neck now. He imagined he could see and hear them on occasion, though common sense told him that wasn’t possible.

  Imagination or not, they were somewhere close, within four or five miles. And he had no means of defending himself or running away. Still, he ploughed on. The land had begun to flatten slightly, making it much easier on his injury. He tried to quicken his pace, though it was tough.

  The three amigos had taken off at a fair lick. Either they were actually going to catch his group, or they were getting away from Jack as quick as they could. And whether for good or bad, he had neither heard any gunfire, nor seen any more flares.