The End of Everything | Book 9 | The End of Everything

by Artinian, Christopher

  “Emmy’s right,” Robyn said. “I’ll go with her. We’ll transport the bottles and fuel up onto the cliff while you guys are rigging the roadblock.”

  “Okay. That’s the plan then. I’ll be back in two.” Chuck disappeared only to reappear a moment later with his rucksack and a bucket with a coiled piece of hosepipe inside it. “You know what they say in the Scouts, always be prepared.”

  “Err … no. Strangely enough, I was never in the Scouts,” Robyn replied.

  “Oh well. They did, and I am.” He turned towards Larry. “Time to get going.” A couple of the tents were still standing. These had been used for storage and were on the verge of falling apart. The chances of anyone being able to re-erect them was slim so they would live out their final days in the middle of the forest.

  Larry clapped his hands. “People. People. It’s time.” No further explanation was needed, and as Chuck flicked on his torch, opened the gate and began the trek down to the road, the rest followed.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “This reminds me of the time we performed for Charles and Camilla. I’ve got the same butterflies now that I had then,” Larry said.

  Emmy took her eyes off the road for a moment and glanced across at him. Robyn was squashed up against the passenger door on his other side, staring out of the window, looking … waiting for any sign of trouble as the trees blurred by in the moonlight.

  “A - this is nothing like that. B - we never performed for Charles and Camilla, we were simply appearing at that school the day they visited. They didn’t even see the show.”

  “No, but they could have done. They could have popped their heads around that corner at any moment.”

  “I love you, Dad, but what the hell goes on in that head of yours?”

  “Many have tried to fathom my depths, and all have failed.”

  “Ugh!” Emmy shook her head. She kept her eyes fixed on the vehicle in front. She had driven on these roads a number of times in the past but never in the dead of night, and never with the prospect of such danger hanging over them. “I really hope this plan works.”

  “It will work,” Robyn said. “It’s got to work.”

  They drove in silence for a while until the minibus in front put its indicator on and pulled into a passing place. Chuck’s bare arm popped out of the window, and he signalled for them to overtake.

  “I guess this is it then,” Emmy said as she pulled around the stationary vehicle. She, Larry and Robyn all glanced to their left and waved as they passed by. Chuck and Wren waved back, their worried looks reflected in the glow of the internal lights.

  Robyn watched in the wing mirror as the minibus resumed its journey. The forest on either side suddenly gave way to steep cliffs. They carried on through the almost claustrophobic channel that had been cut through them for just over two hundred metres before the cliffs began to slope down into forest once more. “Chuck said the nature trail car park was about half a mile on the left, so we’d better keep a look out for signs,” Robyn said. She looked again in the mirror to see the minibus had slowed down to a stop. This is it now. No turning back.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Chuck put the steering wheel in a full lock and manoeuvred the minibus into a central position, straddling the two lanes. There was a gap of two metres on either side. “Damn it. That’s more than I hoped for.”

  “We’re going to have to work quickly to fill it with whatever we can,” Wren said.

  “That we are, young lady. That we are.” He turned around to look at the passengers. “Dan, Steve, you stay with me. We’re going to get the wheels off this thing. The rest of you get gathering. Stones, rocks, big branches, whatever you can find. We want to make this blockade big, heavy and flammable.”

  “Good luck with that after the rain we’ve had in the past few days,” Steve replied.

  “Don’t worry; stuff will soon dry out when we start our little bonfire.”

  The back doors of the minibus opened, and everyone began to file out. “Good luck, Chuck,” Wren said.

  “Good luck yourself.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Larry opened the rear of the truck, and five people who were all sitting on the floor sprung to their feet. Ruby was the first to climb out. “Tommy doesn’t like the dark. Bad things happen in the dark. Tommy doesn’t like the dark.”

  Robyn flicked on her torch. “Here you go,” she said, handing it to Ruby. “It’s not dark anymore.”

  “Robyn saved my life. Robyn saved my life again,” he said, taking Ruby’s hand and climbing down.

  “Yeah, I’m not sure giving you a torch counts as saving your life, Tommy,” Robyn replied, smiling.

  Tommy threw his arms around her the moment both his feet were on the ground. “Okay, Tommy, I think Robyn’s all hugged out now,” Ruby said, placing a hand on his arm to guide him away.

  He eventually relinquished his grip and pulled back looking over the top of Robyn’s head as more torches flicked on. “Molotovin Koktaili - Molotov cocktails,” he said as his eyes began to dart from side to side like he was speed reading.

  “That’s right, Tommy. We’re going to make—”

  Tommy carried on, cutting Robyn off as if he hadn’t heard her talking. “—were used by the Finns in the Winter War from November the thirtieth nineteen thirty-nine to March the thirteenth nineteen forty. Also known as poor man’s grenade, firebomb, bottle bomb, petrol bo—”

  “Okay, Tommy,” Ruby said. “That’s enough now.”

  He stopped talking, and his eyes stopped moving. “Dangerous. Very dangerous Molotov cocktails. Very dangerous. Robyn must be careful.” His pupils met Robyn’s momentarily in the torch and lantern light. It was the first time since they had met that Robyn remembered actually making proper eye contact with him. “Robyn must be careful. Very dangerous Molotov cocktails.”

  Patience had never been one of her virtues, but she found herself caring more and more for Tommy as he clearly became as attached to her. She put out her hand and touched his, causing him to turn into a statue for a moment. “Don’t worry, Tommy. I’ll be careful. We all will.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Wren and Mila with Wolf following by their side had already made two journeys back and forth from the woods with rocks the size of beach balls when they caught sight of a tree that had been felled by a storm. It was clearly not a recent storm as there was a thick silty build-up on the split wood, but the length of time it had been on the ground did not matter. What mattered was the weight and sturdiness of its form.

  The pair pulled hard on two of the thick boughs that protruded from the trunk. “Nein!” Mila said, letting go and picking up the lantern she had placed down to examine it more closely. “It is too big. We cannot move this.”

  “Maybe two of us can’t, but if some of the others helped, we might be able to. Wait here a minute,” Wren said, grabbing the torch from her pocket and disappearing through the trees. She returned a moment later with four more of the theatre troupe. She hadn’t learnt all their names, but she recognised the small attractive woman who had been introduced to her earlier as the make-up and special effects specialist, Sondra. Everyone immediately took up positions, grabbing on to any limb or stub that they could get a good grip on. “Okay, three, two, one, pull,” Wren shouted. There was a chorus of grunts and growls as the group played tug of war with the weighty trunk, but then, inch by inch, it began to shift across the soft muddy earth.

  “Yes! Yes! It is working. It is working,” Mila said excitedly as they all heaved again. It took them over five minutes to drag the fallen tree the few metres from the woods to the road and another four to shift it into position. Rather than placing it behind the van, they wedged it in the gap to the left-hand side. The remaining branches filled the two-metre gap, and they all stood back to catch their breath. Even in the remaining moonlight, they could see it was an imposing barrier.

  “Nice work,” Chuck said as he joined them, having removed the final wheel from the minibus.

&nbs
p; “Yeah. We’d better not celebrate too soon. We’ve still got a lot to do, and it won’t be long before it starts getting light.”

  “Aye, you’re not wrong. Alright, come on, ladies and gents, let’s finish this job.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Robyn stood on the far end of the cliff facing towards the direction the convoy would come from. It was still dark, but she knew they were on the cusp of dawn, and it would not be long until they found out whether their plan would work or not. She brought the binoculars up to her eyes and peered through them, seeing only more darkness. For the time being, that was all she wanted to see. Lights would mean the convoy was on its way ahead of time. Lights would mean their plans would go up in smoke before they were ready.

  “I’d say a penny for your thoughts, but I’m pretty sure I already know them,” Larry said as he crept up behind her.

  “Oh my God,” Robyn said, turning around, and putting her hand up to her chest. Larry turned on his lantern and placed it down on the ground.

  “Err no, Larry Fenton. Although I did once play Joseph in a nativity,” he said, offering her a large hip flask.

  “I thought all the booze was gone,” Robyn said.

  Larry sighed. “I couldn’t bear to pour all of it out. I had to save a little for some Dutch courage and all that.”

  Robyn took the flask, brought it up to her lips and was about to take a drink but then handed it back. “I think I’d better keep my wits about me.”

  “Just one swig couldn’t harm, could it?”

  “Probably not, but I need to be at the top of my game. If this doesn’t go to plan…”

  She did not need to finish her thoughts, and the reason she did not want to drink was the exact same reason Larry brought the silver flask back up to his mouth. He took a gulp then raised it once more. “To all the great heroines both on the stage and on the stage of life,” he said before taking another swig. “May God smile on you, my dear. May God smile on you.” He bent down, picked up his lantern and swaggered off again.

  Robyn watched him for a moment then looked down towards the road. The withering moonlight reflected against the white solid lines in the centre. She and Mila would be positioned here when it all kicked off. They would follow the last vehicle as fast as they could and then throw their petrol bombs before the enemy figured out what was going on. There were so many ifs and buts. There were so many variables, but it didn't matter. They were going to control everything that was in their power.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Much to Wren’s confusion, Chuck had insisted on removing several of the seats from the minibus promising he knew what he was doing. The others worked hard, loading more heavy rocks and stones in through the rear door, making sure a wrecking ball would struggle to shift the barricade. They filled the gaps on both sides with more boulders, stones, trunks, and heavy branches, even the wheels they had removed. By the time they were done, the last vestiges of night were almost gone.

  “Right, you lot. Good work. You need to get into position now,” he said, looking up towards the top of the cliff. He could see silhouettes of figures looking down, checking on their progress.

  “What are you going to do?” Wren asked.

  Chuck walked up to one of the five seats that he had removed from the minibus and slit it open in two places revealing the thick foam as it burst through the tear. He picked up the bucket and pulled out the length of hose. “I’m going to drain what diesel’s left in here,” he said, opening the fuel tank, “then I’m going to position the rest of these seats around the barricade, wedging them in where I can. I’ll pour on the diesel; then, when we throw our cocktails, the whole thing will go up.”

  “I won’t ask, but it’s a bit unnerving how you seem to know exactly what you’re doing.” A wide smile broke out onto Chuck’s face, and his teeth glinted brightly in the lantern light.

  “You siphon the fuel. We will position the seats, yes?” Mila said.

  “Aye, alright, if you like.”

  “Why should I like it?”

  “No, it’s just a term. Y’know, if you like … if you fancy it.”

  “I neither like nor fancy it. This is something we need to do, yes?”

  “Look, it’s just an expression. It’s something we say down in Yorkshire.”

  “Ah, I see. One of your colloquialisms. You murder the language down in the south like they do up here.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Yorkshire is not in the south. Yorkshire is most definitely in the north.”

  “Is Yorkshire north or south of here?”

  “Well … it’s south.”

  “Yes, this is what I said. It is in the south. Now, come, we still have work to do,” she replied, grabbing one of the seats and carrying it to the far end of the blockade.

  “Don’t worry. When we’ve got more time, I’ll explain it to her,” Wren said. “If she says something like that around Mike, he’s liable to smother her in her sleep.”

  “I think I like this Mike bloke already,” Chuck said, and they both smiled. “Oh well, just like Commandant Mila said, we’d better get to it.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The night faded more and more. The sun threatened to appear on the horizon for the longest time before it actually did. Robyn remained in position just watching. She threw the occasional look behind her. The rest of the group were all gathered together at the far end of the cliff. One by one, their torches and lanterns clicked off as it became light enough for them to see.

  Robyn brought the binoculars up to her eyes at regular intervals. From what she could make out, the road was still clear, but it wasn’t as easy now. The landscape was made up of forests and hills. In the dark, a convoy would throw off enough light as they travelled to give plenty of warning. Now, though, they could get much closer before being detected. She brought the binoculars down once more and wiped her eyes. She was tired and scared like everyone else, but this wasn’t a time for weakness.

  “It won’t be long now.”

  “Bloody Hell! I wish people would stop creeping up on me,” Robyn said, spinning around to see her sister standing there with Wolf by her side.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump.”

  “Where’s Mila?”

  “She’s with Chuck. He’s giving the rifle people a last-minute refresher.”

  “Is everything ready down there?” Robyn asked, gesturing to the far end of the barricade.

  “As ready as it’s going to be.”

  “Good.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, fine.”

  “You seem a bit on edge.”

  “I can’t think why. I mean it’s not like we’re about to go to war with a massive army or anything.”

  “We’re not going to war; we’re just setting up a roadblock.”

  “This is me you’re talking to, remember. Now or later, we’re going to be fighting these people, and let’s face it, all the positive thinking in the world isn’t going to change the reality of how many of them there are and how many of us there are.”

  “Yeah, but what we’re doing here helps even things out a bit. I mean, if it all goes to plan, we’ll be taking out a lot of vehicles and a lot of their people.”

  “Yeah … if it goes to plan.”

  “Come on, Bobbi. I need you with me. We’re the ones who are meant to be telling the others that we can do this.”

  Robyn let out a sigh. “Ignore me. I’m tired, that’s all.”

  “It’s been a long night.”

  “I wasn’t thinking about just the night. I mean, God … it’s one thing after another. It never stops.”

  “It must seem that way for you, but it does stop. It stopped for me for a long time when I went to Safe Haven.”

  “Somehow I don’t think Safe Haven is ever going to be safe again. I might sue them for false advertising.”

  Wren smiled weakly; then the two of them stood quietly watched the sun slowly rise in the distance.

  ✽ ✽ �
�

  “Do you want me to send someone out to look for them?” Parkes asked.

  Olsen stared at him for a moment. She had managed to get a few hours’ sleep before the big push, but her mind was still processing the news that her loyal right-hand man had given her. “I made an error of judgement. It was foolish to let that child take a squad out there.”

  “We don’t know what’s happened. They could have had vehicle trouble. Those people might have run, and they might be having to hunt them down. Carlow and a group of experienced men were with him. It’s not like a small unarmed theatre group would be much of a danger to them, is it? That’s why I’m asking, do you want me to send someone out to look for them?”

  Olsen took a sip of her steaming black coffee then cradled the mug in both hands. She sat down on the edge of the long table and looked around the room for a moment. They had taken over a hotel as their base of operations. It had once been a grand place for such a small village. Expensive-looking reproduction artwork decorated the walls of the large dining room, and expensive carpet and fixtures suggested spending a night would have cost more than a pretty penny. “No … no. We’re not waiting for them; we’re not going to look for them. We’re not delaying this operation by one minute.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Olsen smiled. Parkes had been assigned to her security detail when she was a member of parliament and had been sent death threats. It was then that he had become a true believer in what she and the rest of the party were striving for. He was old school, and even after all this time, he still addressed her as he did on that first day. “I know you don’t agree with me, but trust me; I know what I’m doing.”

  Parkes nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Look. The scenarios you mentioned are plausible, but let’s consider that the absolute worst case has occurred and somehow they got overpowered. What’s going to happen? Chances are they’re going to run, just get into those vehicles and get as far away from here as possible. Or maybe they’re braver than that. Maybe they’ll head to this Safe Haven place and warn them. Either way, it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference. We’re setting off from here with two thousand plus men and women. If they gave their friends a week to prepare, let alone a few hours, they’re not going to be able to do anything. If the information Josh gave us was right, and I have no reason to believe otherwise, they’re in no fit state to put up a fight after the one they’ve just had. All we have to do is not lose focus on our goal. That’s why we’re not going to waste time and resources sending a team out to go look for them. They’re not back, end of story.”