UK Dark Trilogy

by Harris, Chris

  After a pause to allow us to digest this information, he said, “Jerry, can you remember our code?”

  Even though we all knew it wasn’t going to be a problem, there was something about the way he’d made the threat that sent a chill down my spine. Everyone looked worried until Jerry broke the mood, saying, “Don’t worry about him, he’s full of wind. He’s always been good at talking big, let me sort this out.” Putting the handset to his mouth he replied, “Oday Noj. Am Sweet.”

  “Yerrj. Probs no.”

  We looked at each other in amazement and Allan started laughing uncontrollably.

  Russ looked at Jerry and said, “Some secret language. My dog could come up with something better!”

  Jerry grinned sheepishly and said, “Come on, we were eight at the time.” Getting back on the radio he continued, “Jon, can’t you come up with another way of checking? It’s embarrassing! One of my friends is laughing so much I think he’s going to damage something.”

  When Colonel Moore responded, we could hear muffled laughter in the background and barely suppressed amusement in his voice. “Yes I agree. Do you remember when you broke Cousin Robert’s arm when you pushed him off his bike?”

  “It was Cousin Roberta’s leg you broke,” replied Jerry. “You pushed her out of the treehouse, because she’d stolen your favourite Action Man.”

  Jerry hesitated, then spoke again, “Look, Jon, the people I’m with are good people. I met Tom just before the EMP thing hit and I owe him my life. What we, as a group, have achieved when everything around us has fallen apart, is amazing. I’m not here against my will and I don’t know how else I can prove it to you, other than revealing more of your embarrassing secrets to whoever is listening in at your end. Trust me Jon, it’s all OK.”

  “Jerry, shut up! I believe you. It’s going to cost me a lot of drinks at the mess to shut people up. But then I suppose as commanding officer, keeping up morale is a priority. Thank God you’re OK …” There was a pause, as if he’d been interrupted. “Jerry, do you know how to make your radio secure?”

  Jerry looked at Russ, who nodded, gave the thumbs up signal and pressed a series of buttons on the radio’s control panel. He then motioned to Jerry to carry on.

  “Jon, can you still hear me?”

  After about thirty seconds Colonel Moore replied, “Yes you are confirmed as secure. No other radio can now listen in.”

  “Why? Who else is out there, Jon?” asked Jerry.

  “We’re not quite sure at the moment. It’s best if we follow a strict security procedure. The information I’m about to give you must not be passed on. Jerry, under normal circumstances I’d be shot for telling you this. Can you trust the people around you?”

  Jerry looked us all in the eye and replied, “I trust these people with my family’s lives.”

  There was a minute’s pause and we realised that Jerry’s brother was debating what to tell us.

  “Jerry, please don’t interrupt, just let me finish before you ask any questions. As you know, just over nine weeks ago the world experienced an unprecedented disaster. The EMP created by the solar flare was stronger than any model predicted. It was far more powerful than anyone had thought possible, stronger than anything created by nuclear explosions. We can’t begin to predict the damage caused. Global communications have failed. Anything electrical that wasn’t in a Faraday cage, or protected by something similar, has been damaged beyond repair. Most of the machines and vehicles we believed would be unaffected by the EMPs are inoperable. We can only guess at what’s happening in the rest of the world. We’ve modelled the results on what little information we’ve received or have been able to gather ourselves.

  “The UK Government, in whatever guise you want to call it, be it political or military or police or local authority, has ceased to function.” We listened in silence, struggling to absorb what he was saying, as he continued,

  “We were all assured by the experts that this would never happen. But as it turns out, those experts were being advised by the manufacturers that whatever they were making would be proof against EMPs. Unfortunately, we believed them and that left us completely unprepared.”

  He explained that he had been left in charge of a massive army base, probably the only one in the country still capable of operating at anything approaching normal capacity. He was only in charge because not one of the higher ranking officers had arrived. Most of the people in authority hadn’t turned up, because the reports they’d been given had downplayed the severity of the situation.

  Protocols had meant that certain key government people and other prominent figures had arrived, and some military units had relocated to the base. But that was it.

  Contact with other government facilities around the country had been patchy. Most had, or were about to, run out of supplies. There simply wasn’t enough food in the country to feed everyone. The initial humanitarian effort had worked, but it had soon become clear that without further supplies, which were never going to arrive, they were only delaying the inevitable.

  In the past they had stockpiled everything. There had been warehouses full of food and clothes and anything else that might be needed. But with all the cutbacks, everything had either been sold off or had operated on a “just in time” system from the suppliers. There had been no reserves to fall back on, and more importantly, even if they’d had the reserves, there was no way of distributing them. There just weren’t enough working vehicles to make a difference.

  In the days preceding the event, he had just been following orders, had assumed that everyone would be doing the same, and had been too busy to notice if they were anyway. It was only after the event that they had sat down and realised what a total mess it all was.

  “Jerry, I could go on forever, blaming everybody. The fact is, it doesn’t matter who’s responsible, it’s just too late. We’re in this situation now and looking for people to blame would be a waste of effort. The world will have to adjust, change and rebuild. We’ll probably need a whole new way of life.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  It took us a minute or two to realise that Jon had stopped talking. We were all absorbing what we had just been told. Yes, we had probably known it anyway. We’d had no contact with anyone in authority, apart from the local police, since it had happened, so everything Jon had told us made sense. Yet having it confirmed still came as a shock.

  “Jerry, are you there?” The radio broke through our thoughts as Jerry lifted the handset and replied,

  “Yes, sorry Jon. We’re still here. Just trying to take in what you’ve said. I think we all realised that things were bad, but we always hoped that help might turn up some day. You said key government personnel are with you. Surely other people would have turned up by now? Even if they’re walking or at least travelling by bike, others should have reached you?”

  “Jerry, until I’ve cleared it with the individuals involved, I’m not going to mention any names. There is a reason why nobody else has turned up. Nobody knows where we are. The location I’m speaking from has been one of the best kept military secrets since the Cold War. I'm not even sure why it still exists. I was on the roster to be the staff duty officer, to be transported to the base in the event that the base went on alert.

  I’ve been on the roster before. The only thing you are told is that in the unlikely event of the base being activated, you will be contacted and instructions will be given.

  You’re picked up from a preselected place and taken to the base. If you’re not at your pick up point at your appointed time, you don’t get here. I can only assume that’s what happened. Most people just didn’t take it seriously and missed their lift.”

  The idea of secret government bases and military secrets all sounded a bit far-fetched, but here we were talking to someone on the radio about it. Frustrated, I asked Jerry if I could speak to his brother.

  He handed the handset over.

  “Hello Colonel Moore, it’s Tom again. I’m glad you’re all OK and s
itting nice and safe in your ‘lair’ BUT, please don’t take this the wrong way, do you have any idea how many people have died out in the real world in the last few months? I understand everything you’re saying about the lack of supplies, and I’m not sure what you could have done to help, but surely you could have tried something!”

  Even as I was saying it, I was beginning to understand the impossible position they had found themselves in. Food can’t be produced out of thin air. Vehicles for transporting food can’t be repaired if there are no spare parts.

  I spoke again, “I’m sorry, my brain hasn’t caught up with my mouth yet. I’m sure you would have helped if you could. Just ignore me.”

  Colonel Moore came back on the radio, “Thank you Tom. Believe me, if we could have made a difference we would have. But whatever we could have done would only have scratched the surface, and then we’d have been in the same situation as everyone else. It was the hardest decision any of us has had to make. We ‘battened down the hatches’ and sat it out.

  God forgive us for making that terrible choice. But we knew that with the resources and equipment we have available to us here, at some point in the future, we could help to make a difference, and start building a new world out of the chaos we are facing as a result of this disaster.”

  Over the next hour, we all took it in turns to relay details of our story to Jon. He’d quickly told us to stop addressing him by his rank. For one thing, we were civilians, and didn’t need to, and for another, we had saved his brother’s life and therefore he considered us friends.

  By now we were receiving repeated calls from Pete over the walkie-talkie, desperate to know what was going on, so Allan and I elected to go back and leave Jerry and Russ talking over the radio. We asked Pete to send two armed volunteers to the church, to act as guards for the two of them, and to escort them back when they had finished.

  Walking back to the road, we passed the two volunteers walking up to the church. They were desperate to know what was going on, and said that everyone knew something momentous was happening and had all stopped work and were just hanging around, waiting for news.

  We decided to wait for Russ and Jerry to return before getting everyone together for a meeting, but to have a quiet word with Pete first, just to keep him “in the loop”.

  As soon as we were through the barricades we were surrounded by people desperate to find out what was going on. We had a hard time telling them to be patient for a little longer.

  While Allan distracted the crowd, I indicated for Pete to join me in my house. Becky, Fiona, Jane and Michael were waiting at the kitchen table. I shooed all the children out and shut the door so that we could have some peace and quiet.

  I told everyone what had happened. I apologised to Pete for not telling him about the radio, explaining that I hadn’t wanted to get anyone’s hopes up before we knew it worked. Fiona was the happiest, knowing that her brother in law was OK. Becky looked a little pensive and Jane and Michael, who were still getting used to our community (they had only arrived the day before and had not even begun to recover from their own terrible ordeal), looked decidedly dazed.

  I asked Becky what the matter was. “I don’t know,” she replied, “It’s obviously great news that we’re not alone after all the pain and suffering we’ve seen and experienced. I just don’t want this to change things. Do these people think they have a right to tell us what to do? We’re working hard to get this right, but we stand or fall by our own choices. Do we have to bow to their will or agree to do what they say?”

  I looked at Becky in admiration. She was thinking ten stages ahead of me (as usual). “Becky my love, I don’t know. Only time will tell, but all I can say is when I was speaking to Jon, I got a feeling that he is one of the good guys. Am I right, Fiona?”

  Without any hesitation, Fiona replied, “Yes, he’s great. If he’s in charge, then we’ll have nothing to worry about. He’s a really good man.”

  I asked Fiona to tell us more about him.

  He’d been in the military since leaving university. He’d seen active service in all the recent conflicts, and had been decorated for bravery on a number of occasions, climbing steadily through the ranks over the years.

  He had never married, and with all the moving around that his job had entailed, had found it hard to maintain a steady relationship.

  Fiona laughed and admitted that he’d been so good looking in his uniform, he’d driven most of her single friends a little bit crazy.

  At one stage he’d threatened to stop visiting, because Fiona’s blatant matchmaking efforts were making him feel like a horse being put out to stud. She assured us that if we ever got to meet him, we would like him instantly.

  Russ and Jerry arrived back with more news. Jon was planning to visit, and once his team had worked out the details, he would let us know when to expect him.

  He had also asked one of his signallers to explain to Russ how to rig up an extended antenna for the radio, to save us having to climb the church bell tower, and how to perform basic maintenance on it to keep it functional. Jerry suggested that we all work on a wish list of equipment or supplies that we wanted or needed, as Jon had promised to do his best to help.

  We then went outside to inform the crowd, and to put them out of their misery. Everybody was over the moon and the clapping and cheering went on for a long time. Pete, once he had calmed everyone down, passed the meeting over to Jerry, Russ and me so that we could answer any questions. After the third question about food and supplies, I had to interrupt Jerry and say,

  “Friends. This is not it. We have not been saved. Yes, we have made contact and are shortly expecting a visit from Jerry’s brother, Colonel Moore. But we still have to work hard to survive. We can’t expect these people to feed us or do our heavy work for us. They’re in the same position as us. Yes, they may be able to help us, but I’d also like to think that we can help them. We’ve all survived and we can pass on what we’ve learned. The future is looking brighter. I believe we are emerging from the dark and a new dawn is coming.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Over the next couple of days, Jerry and his brother were in regular contact. Jon admitted that the “little trip” he had envisioned was rapidly turning into a major expedition, as more and more personnel and government figures were finding compelling and well-argued reasons as to why they should be included.

  An unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) had been launched, and the route mapped and planned to avoid any major obstructions. Jon admitted that he had so many “gadgets and gizmos” at his disposal, and people with plenty of time on their hands, that even though it seemed excessive, planning this mission had galvanised a lot of his people back into action, and made them aware that they still had a job to do: rebuild the country.

  The wish list we’d put together comprised mainly spares and parts that Russ wanted for his various projects.

  Allan had requested weapons, to help improve our already quite impressive security arrangements, and more razor wire, as he wanted to extend the security perimeter. We hadn’t had a positive response about the request for weapons, but it hadn’t been ruled out either.

  All I’d requested was a cockerel.

  We couldn’t get a definite answer on how many people to expect. It appeared that Jon didn’t know himself, and was desperately trying to keep the numbers low, and therefore manageable. (We got the impression that he was failing).

  Although Jon assured us that they wouldn’t be encroaching upon our hospitality and would manage their own accommodation and supplies, we decided it wouldn’t be pleasant to sleep under canvas in December, so Pete set about preparing more houses in the road to accept guests. Not knowing how many to expect, we “aired and prepared” the ten houses that were directly next to the block of ten we all lived in.

  Allan erected a basic security fence around the properties, removed the fences separating the rear gardens, and cut down trees and shrubs to improve visibility.

  We fully exp
ected Jon to arrive with a strong military force, so we were not too worried about security, as we figured they would be able to manage that themselves. But what Allan had accomplished would give them a start.

  Rumours were flying around about who was expected to visit. Jon refused to be drawn into any conversations about it, and changed the subject every time the question arose. This did nothing to stop the rumour mill; it only made it worse.

  Pete had to resort to losing his temper to get most people back on track. A holiday mood had settled over all of us, and he was finding it difficult to get everyone motivated to do the daily tasks he set for them. One good rant from Pete, using some well chosen and considered words, embarrassed us all back into compliance.

  The one allowance he did make was a request for more baking supplies from the kitchen crew. They were determined to go on a “bakeathon” and show off their cooking skills on the new and improved “Beast”. Russ had continued to tinker with it and nowadays it barely leaked any smoke. He’d also added controls to regulate the air flow, which helped to control the temperature.

  Over the weeks the volunteer cooks had learned to tame The Beast. The quality of the food was improving, and recipes were being adapted or invented to suit the supplies that were available and the sheer number of people there was to feed.

  We were all losing weight. With all the extra physical work we were undertaking, and the more controlled portions we were receiving, (and the lack of snacking opportunities), all of the adults were getting into shape. The women were calling it the “Disaster Diet” and the standing joke was that it should have been invented years ago.

  It would have saved them all a lot of money and time wasted on following the latest exercise or diet crazes.