“You think he’s still there?”
“He may be dead for all I know. Or as good as dead. But I can hope.”
A crackly jingle played on the radio: “And now it’s time for the news. Don’t move that dial. The Peter Quinn All 80s Radio Show will be back playing all the hits that matter in just a couple of minutes.”
Then there was a pause and then another voice came on the radio: “This is the news from Radio True Britain. People Of Britain. The Emergency Government has declared martial law. All major cities are now subject to a curfew which will begin at twilight and end at dawn. As far as we understand it, there are no official definitions of ‘twilight’ and ‘dawn’. Reports are coming in of significant civilian casualties in London, Manchester, Birmingham and Glasgow. We strongly recommend that you avoid towns and cities if at all possible. If that is not possible, be sure to keep off the streets after dark. In our earlier reports, we stated that the Army was no longer functional. In light of recent events, it appears this may have been incorrect. We don’t know how many soldiers are currently deployed in Britain. In fact, we don’t even know how so many soldiers managed to survive the contagion. We will try to bring you more information if we are able to do so. For now, just be aware that the Army is not on our side. I repeat: the Army is not on our side. And now back to Peter Quinn’s All 80s Radio Show…”
The room was silent. Matteo was the first to speak. “That’s pretty shocking,” he said.
“More shocking than you think,” said Jonathan.
“What do you mean?”
Jonathan looked at Geoff and Leila. The grim expressions on their faces told him that they were thinking the same thing he was thinking.
“It’s a lie,” said Jonathan, “Radio True Britain is all a lie.”
“Why do you say that?” said Matteo.
“I’ve heard it all before. We all have. Me, Geoff and Leila. We heard that news report months ago.”
“The same one?” Dave said, “It can’t have been the same one.”
“It was,” said Leila, “Believe me. I’ve got a very good memory. It was word for word the same. Identical.”
“I remember it too,” Geoff agreed, “It must be a recording. They’re saying it’s the news but it isn’t. It’s all made up.”
“Why would they do that?” Gloria asked.
“To make us believe we have a chance,” Jonathan said, “To make us believe that there is a resistance, that people out there are fighting back. Well, maybe they aren’t. Maybe there isn’t anyone. Maybe there’s just us.”
Departure
Stony Cove: June
The Journey Begins
Jonathan, Leila, Matteo, Geoff and Bobby spent the next three days in the basement. The others – the so-called Gang Of Five –had their own accommodation: places in which they, to some degree at least, felt safe. After the Army had arrived and purged the town of red-eyes, many of the survivors at Stony Cove felt secure to carry on living in their houses and flats. The Army (they thought) provided security.
After Freddie had been taken away, however, Sebastian had moved out of his old flat and taken up residence in a deserted cottage a few miles out of town. Now that Freddie had escaped from the Camp, Sebastian took him to the cottage and hid him in an attic room.
By day, the Gang Of Five avoided the derelict building in whose basement the escapees were living. But they visited the basement after dark to bring food, clothes and other necessaries and to share any news, such as it was.
After the night of the breakout there had been no obvious signs of a coordinated search for the fugitives. Sebastian’s Aunty Brenda, who worked in the Camp, told him that everything appeared to be continuing just as it always had. But she’d overheard Captain Smedley telling Charlie Rubenstein that “It was a damn’ nuisance. They are always on the lookout for the special ones, you know. The ones who recover.”
“That’s me, I suppose?” Leila said.
“Their scientists still don’t understand how some people recover,” said Matteo.
“They must have a vaccine, don’t you think?” said Jonathan, “That would explain how the military survived unscathed and how the government was able to continue. They must have known about the disease ages ago. Then they gave the vaccine to anyone of importance and left the rest of us to take our chances.”
“Cheerful Charlie Rubenstein?” Leila said, “You think he counts as someone of importance?”
“You think our own Government knew the plague was coming and just left us to die?” Geoff said, “Why would they do that?”
“There’s no way we can know for certain what happened,” Matteo said, “What I do know is that anyone who recovers becomes a person of special interest.”
“That doesn’t make me feel safe,” Leila said, “The sooner we get away and the further we go the happier I’ll be.”
So they spent the next few days drawing up their plans. At first, Leila wanted to go north. She thought it might be safer there because the military presence would be concentrated in the south of England, especially around London. But nobody else wanted to go with her so she eventually decided that she’d go where everyone else went. Jonathan wanted to get back to the cottage in Cornwall. That’s where Justin had gone, according to the woman he’d spoken to in the flat next to Justin’s in London. Apart from Geoff and Leila, Justin was the only true friend he had in the world. If Justin was still alive.
Matteo didn’t know where he wanted to go – “Anywhere but here,” was his opinion. However, since everyone else was heading for Cornwall, he decided that he might as well tag along for the ride.
So that was the plan. They laid low for a week. Then, one cool, breezy night, they set off. They had rucksacks on their backs containing tinned food, torches, a few changes of clothes, a basic medical kit and hunters’ knives for protection. They said goodbye to their friends, the Gang Of Five, and everybody wished one another well for the future.
“You’re always welcome to visit me in Cornwall,” Jonathan said.
“We’ll do that,” said Sebastian, “when things get back to normal.”
And they hugged one another and they smiled a bit and they cried a bit because they knew that things would never get back to normal and they would never see one another again.
It was just after midnight when Jonathan, Geoff and Leila climbed up the rickety wooden steps that led out of the cellar into the decayed and crumbling ground floor of a building that had been abandoned long before the Great Snow. From there they set off in a westerly direction, climbing up a narrow, winding road that led through woodlands towards the open country that lay beyond the brow of the hill, with Bobby the dog scurrying along at their heels.
They walked throughout the night until at last they saw the faint glimmer of the approaching dawn. By that time they were far away from Stony Cove and were starting to feel that the long dark, days of confinement were finally at an end.
The Rose-Covered Cottage
It was still quite dark when they found the rose-covered cottage. It stood alone at the centre of a small garden bounded by a box hedge. The garden was rampant with flowers and equally rampant with weeds. This had clearly once been a much loved and well-tended garden whose delicate blooms were now being choked and smothered by more vigorous, native plants. The white-walled cottage had a neat, thatched roof whose lower edges were invaded by the magnificent rose bush that climbed up a trellis at the front of the cottage and, unpruned, was now heading skyward.
“This,” said Leila, inhaling the heady scent of the rose bush, “is as near to heaven as I’ll ever get.”
“Maybe we could move in here,” said Geoff, “Settle down. Nobody’s likely to find us here, are they?”
“We could probably stay a few days, anyway,” said Matteo.
“No,” Jonathan insisted, “We have to keep moving. Tomorrow we’ll go looking for a car. There must be farms around here. A Land Rover would be perfect.”
“But today,”
said Leila, “I’m going to stay here and pretend everything is as it should be. I’ll have a good long sleep, then I’ll get up and make tea and scones and sit out in the garden watching the bees buzzing from flower to flower.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Geoff, who not inclined to share Leila’s daydreams.
“There may be bodies in there,” Matteo warned, “I mean, nobody’s tended this garden all summer by the look of it. I’m guessing someone must have been here when the snows came.”
“Pooh! What do I care about dead bodies?” said Leila, “I’ve seen so many in the past few months, a couple more are neither here nor there.”
And so they pushed open the old-fashioned oak door at the front of the cottage and in they went. No sooner had they crossed the threshold than the smell hit them. The scent of roses was immediately replaced by the stink of corruption.
The dim early-morning light showed that they had entered a small room with whitewashed stone walls. A cast iron, wood-burning fire stood in the large hearth on their left. What remained of the furniture was scattered about the room as though someone had taken an axe to it. A small settee lay on its back and the stuffing from its torn cushions was scattered freely around the room. A couple of armchairs had been torn to shreds. Bobby went around the room sniffing here and there. When the dog went behind the overturned settee it began to make a low, growling noise and, with the hairs on its neck bristling, it slowly backed away.
“Now what’s he found?” said Jonathan.
Leila, who was the closet to the dog, went over to the settee to take a look. There was a dark shape on the floor. At first, Leila assumed it was a heap of clothing or sheets. But then it moved. Leila took the torch from her pocket. It was a small LED pen torch and the light was dim because it hadn’t been recharged since they’d escaped from the Camp and hidden in the basement over a week ago. But it was bright enough to show the skeletal form of a young woman. Grasping the back of the overturned settee with a claw-like hand, the figure was trying to push itself from the floor, but it looked too weak, it seemed to have no strength left.
It was trying to say something. Its desiccated lips were drawn back from its cracked, broken teeth and it struggled to form words with its harsh, rasping voice. Slowly, Leila drew closer.
“Be careful,” Jonathan said.
“It’s OK. She’s in a bad way. I think she’s saying ‘Help me’.”
In a split second the skeletal creature flung itself upon Leila as a hunting cat might fling itself upon an unsuspecting rabbit. Geoff was there in an instant. The creature’s bony fingers tightened around Leila’s neck and its cadaverous mouth was at her throat. Geoff grabbed the creature from behind and pulled with all his might. It felt as though he was holding nothing but bone and sinews and yet the creature clung to Leila with amazing strength and determination. Bobby rushed towards it and barked. Matteo reached for its hands, trying to prise away the grasping fingers. Jonathan clasped its long, dusty-dry hair and tugged until the creature’s head snapped back. In the next instant, the skeletal body became slack and fell to the floor with no more life in it than a bundle of rags.
Leila was holding her hunting knife in her hand. She had taken it from the pocket of her coat and used it swiftly and effectively, delivering a single, killing stroke.
“That was a damned close call,” Jonathan said, when his panic-driven breathing had slowed enough to allow him to speak.
“Too close,” Leila said.
“What do you mean?”
Leila tilted her head to one side, showing the open wound in her neck. “The bloody thing bit me.”
An Unexpected Meeting
When the sun came up, the heat of the morning was sweltering. Jonathan and Matteo had done the best they could to dress Leila’s wound. They had cleaned it using some of the bottled water they’d brought in their rucksacks. Then they bound it up with gauze and plasters from their medical kit.
“Don’t fuss,” Leila said, “I’ll be all right.”
“You’re sweating,” Jonathan said.
Leila laughed. “So are you. In case you hadn’t noticed the weather is positively tropical today, my dear.”
Even so, Jonathan was worried. He and Matteo had talked over the possible effects of the bite while Geoff was out in the garden playing with Bobby. “You know all about this stuff, don’t you?” Jonathan had said, “The disease, I mean. You studied that stuff. So what do you reckon? How sick is Leila going to get?”
“I wish I knew,” Matteo had replied, “I’m as much in the dark as you are about the type of disease we’re dealing with. We don’t even know if it’s a bacterium, a virus, a prion or something else? The initial infection was devastating but after that the spread of the disease appears to have been slow. Why is that? I’d have to know something about the mechanism of infection. Does it spread through the air, maybe in aerosols – coughs and sneezes – like flu? Through touching, eating or drinking contaminated foods and liquids? Or through the exchange of bodily fluids? I simply don’t know.”
“So would a bite infect someone?”
“Maybe. Then again, since Leila was previously infected…”
“She should be immune?”
“Possibly.”
Jonathan had been hoping that Matteo would have all the answers, that he would talk in certainties not in maybes and possiblies. There seemed there was nothing they could do but watch and wait.
“We have to move on,” Jonathan said, “As soon as possible. We have to get a vehicle. And petrol. That has to be our priority.”
“I’ll go and look. This afternoon.”
“Take Geoff. He’s done this kind of thing before.”
“Stealing cars, you mean?”
“Yes, that’s what I mean. I’ll stay and look after Leila.”
That was the last conversation Matteo and Jonathan ever had.
*
The air was oppressively warm and still. Through the open window, they could hear bees buzzing around the blooms of the climbing rose. Before they’d left, Matteo and Geoff had helped Jonathan clean up the living room of the cottage. First they moved the skeletal woman’s body out into the back garden. There was a wooden potting shed and a big, old compost heap next to it. They dragged the body behind the shed and, using a spade that they found in the shed, covered it with a layer of compost. Then they tidied up the furniture in the living room. When covered with blankets that they discovered in a bedroom cabinet, the old settee was still serviceable.
Leila said she felt fine but she looked weak and so they decided she should spend the rest of the day relaxing on the settee. Jonathan went hunting around the cottage looking for any supplies that might come in handy. There were clothes in a wardrobe but the man’s clothes were all far too big for any of them and the woman’s clothing was fussy and impractical. The old fridge contained mouldering lumps of something but, apart from a few tins of peas and beans, there was nothing edible. There were no weapons of any sort either, other than kitchen knives.
Jonathan had just opened the trapdoor leading into the attic when he heard the low rumble of a vehicle approaching. He let the trapdoor fall shut at once and went to the window to see what was happening. A Land Rover was approaching. Jonathan’s first thought was that Geoff and Matteo must have found the vehicle and were bringing it back to the cottage.
But when the Land Rover drew nearer, he could see that there were two older men in the front seats. They were wearing uniforms. In a panic, Jonathan ran downstairs. Somehow he had to get Leila away from the cottage. But when he arrived in the living room, Leila was no longer there. He glanced out of the window. She was in the small garden at the front of the cottage. She was just standing there watching as an elderly gentleman in the uniform of an Army officer, dismounted from the passenger side of the Land Rover and approached her. Jonathan recognised the man at once. He had first met him a few months previously in the village in Cornwall where Jonathan had been living. So much had happened since that it seem
ed like years ago. It was the man they called The Colonel. Nobody in the village had entirely sure if he really was a Colonel or if it was just a nickname. It certainly seemed that the rank was genuine though quite how he had ended up running an antique shop in a remote area of the West Country was far from clear. Since leaving the village, Jonathan had met the Colonel several times. He kept turning up at the most unexpected moments. And no moment could have been more unexpected than this one!
The Colonel saw Jonathan staring out through the window; he smiled and waved to him. Jonathan waved back. He wasn’t sure whether the arrival of the Colonel was a good or a bad thing. He had always seemed a decent enough chap. People in the village had trusted him.
Jonathan strolled out through the front door, trying to look at nonchalant as possible. “Good afternoon, Colonel,” he said, “What brings you here?”
“Oh you know, old man. I’ve always taken an interest in your wellbeing. The Camp, I understand what not quite to your liking.”
“You could say that.”
“Your friend here…”
“Leila.”
“She appears to have suffered an injury.”
Leila didn’t appreciate being talked about in the third person. “You can talk to me, you know. I do speak English. I am perfectly capable of answering your questions.”
“Quite, quite,” The Colonel had an innate ability to turn on the charm as easily as, in the old days, he might have turned on a room light, “I’m most awfully sorry if I appeared to be rude. It’s just that Jonathan and I are old friends, you see. What I was about to say, my dear, is that you really should get that wound seen to. It could become, well, malignant.”
“She was bitten,” Jonathan said, “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, my dear fellow, I do already know that.”
“And I know what you do with people who are infected. I’ve seen them. In the Camp.”
The Exodus Plague | Book 2 | Imprisoned Page 22
