UK Dark Trilogy

by Harris, Chris

  He could see the agitation building up on my face and held up his hand, “Please, Tom, let me finish, and listen to everything I have to say before you start judging us.”

  I subsided for the moment and let him speak.

  “For security reasons, a temporary ban has been placed on allowing new arrivals into the base. This doesn’t mean we’re going to stop helping people; it just means that they won’t be allowed full access to all the facilities we can offer. Also, all arrivals since the event will be subject to further screening. We’re devising various new methods with whatever expertise and equipment we have available.”

  Noting the shocked looks on most of our faces, he added with a laugh, “No, it’s not what you think, we’re not going to be waterboarding people or anything like that! One thing we are trying to do is to get an old polygraph machine, (a lie detector, in other words) that we’ve found, calibrated and working again. We’re also putting together enhanced interview and background checking procedures.

  It’s become clear that the systems we have in place aren’t sufficient and need changing. It’s just unfortunate that it took such a disturbing event to highlight the fact.”

  He paused and looked round at us all before continuing, “After careful consideration, the outreach and relief programme we were planning will have to be scaled back for a time, as our priority for the moment is to concentrate on securing all the known locations of large quantities of stored weapons. We can’t risk any other groups like the one we’ve just put down finding them.

  As you can imagine, there are a lot of places we need to reach. It’s not just military bases we need to think about; the police also had a sizeable arsenal spread around the UK. In hindsight, this should have been done immediately after the event, but we just followed the protocol set out, and to our shame, allowed ourselves to be cocooned in our nice safe bunker …” He broke off for a moment, looking sombre, then carried on.

  “Still,” he said, slightly more cheerfully, “we can’t change the past, we can only influence the future. The one benefit from all this is that we’ll be embarking on missions much further out than we’d initially planned. Every mission will be given the same instructions: make contact and see what help we can offer to every group or individual we come across.

  We won’t be skulking around at night anymore; the patrols will make themselves as visible as possible and be on the lookout for survivors.”

  Once again, he paused and his smile disappeared. “But what I will say is, if you’re picturing our patrols arriving with flags waving and carnivals and bands, then you’re mistaken. It’s only two weeks since we were attacked on patrol, and we narrowly escaped being taken out by the group we’ve just eliminated. Basic security protocols will be followed at all times until we’re certain that whatever group we’ve encountered is peaceful.” He grinned wryly and added, “We may not initially look too friendly, but in my opinion, military vehicles were designed to look intimidating and there’s not much we can change about that.

  “Once the mission commander is satisfied of a group’s legitimacy, all the help and advice we have available will be offered to them. Initially we’ll offer food and medical assistance if required. We’ll also bring them up to speed on what’s happened to this country and the rest of the world, and then we’ll ask them if they want to be part of the plan the government is formulating to help rebuild the UK. I know we’ve been over this before with you all, but once contact has been made and we’ve ascertained that they agree with the country’s new constitution, we’ll continue our mission to secure the weapons.

  We’ll make a note of their location and we’ll promise to maintain contact with them, but other than that we won’t be able to offer any guarantees about when we’ll be able to return. Hopefully, knowing that they’re not on their own will make a big difference to them.”

  I thought about what he’d said. It made sense. None of us wanted to have to deal with any more gangs armed to the teeth, so a plan to secure weapons seemed sensible. A thought occurred to me. “So what would you do if you came across another group like us? One that was friendly but had military weapons. Would you take the weapons away from them?”

  To my relief, Paul shook his head firmly, “Absolutely not. That would be the quickest way to alienate them. We’d be taking away their only means of protection. Look, none of the procedures have been finalised yet, but I can assure you that if a group is friendly, no questions will be asked. But if, on the other hand, they prove to be hostile, then we’ll be taking their weapons, whether they like it or not.” Looking grim, he added, “Logic dictates that Gumin and those renegade soldiers can’t be the only rotten apples in the barrel, so I guess we’ll have to be prepared for more violence.”

  At this point, Jerry intervened and told everyone I’d done enough for today. The meeting broke up. I would have complained but was dismayed to find that I was feeling weak and exhausted again.

  I knew I was going to hate being the patient, but Jerry had already told me in no uncertain terms that I was incredibly lucky; firstly, to be alive and secondly, to have come through the experience without apparently suffering any permanent damage.

  He told me he was putting me on a week’s bed and house rest and that, aside from family members, I would only be allowed to have short meetings with everyone else. Becky put a stop to my protestations by promising severe future marital sanctions if I didn’t comply. The only course of action left was to give in. However, congratulating myself on my cunning, I resolved to become the most difficult, demanding patient ever, in the hope that they would become so exasperated with me, they would release me from my incarceration.

  It didn’t work.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  As the days dragged on, the weather was increasingly becoming an issue. It was colder than anyone could remember and snow storm after snow storm hit, adding layer upon layer to the snow already piled up in deep drifts against the windows. The world outside was silent; a freezing wilderness enveloped in a white blanket.

  The freezing conditions curtailed a lot of the outdoor work in the road, so most people were re-allocated to tasks involving internal house improvements, or were given duties that could take place within the shelter of the kitchen area.

  As we worked, we talked about the weather. Could it be a coincidence that the harshest winter on record by a long way was happening so soon after the world’s power had been turned off? No more gases from factories, cars and homes being pumped out into the atmosphere.

  Surely this meant the end of global warming? The theory bounced back and forth between us, and even though the experts back at the base argued against it, referring to the legendary “winter of 1947” as proof that a harsh winter can come out of nowhere, most of us weren’t convinced.

  Travel either by car or on foot was severely hampered by the continual falls of snow. For the sake of people’s safety, travel between the road and the base was suspended. An attempt to recover the stolen armoured car from its ditch had proved how dangerous conditions were, because the army engineers had almost managed to get the entire fleet stuck in the attempt (a fact which had been a source of great amusement to the rest of the troops).

  The houses in the road were full to bursting point, as the replacements who had arrived with the convoy were obliged to bunk up with the soldiers they were supposed to be replacing.

  Despite this, the troops remained cheerful, willingly pitching in to help the residents with their chores, and rarely complaining about their overcrowded accommodation. From their point of view, they knew that their families were safe and warm back in Herefordshire, and in the meantime, they were glad to be doing something rather than kicking their heels at the base. From time to time they moaned and griped as any good squaddie would, but for the most part, they threw themselves into their work with gusto.

  Foraging parties were also cancelled and foot patrols were limited to the area immediately surrounding the compound. Even then, they kept to a se
t route so that any new tracks from strangers could easily be identified.

  So apart from guard duties and essential maintenance, we hunkered down and endured and kept ourselves as busy as possible.

  Not that this was much of a hardship; thanks to all the work we’d put in previously, fitting log burners, reinstating fireplaces and using gas heaters, the houses remained reasonably warm and cosy.

  The relationship between Harry and Kim was quietly blossoming. It had been clear from the start that there was a mutual attraction, but until the rescue, this hadn’t progressed beyond the occasional snatched conversation. Since their return, any reservations they might have had about his “royal” status seemed to have been forgotten. They were constantly together and the happiness that radiated from them was enough to lift the darkest mood on those bleak winter days.

  The only expeditions we embarked on were to check on the welfare of the groups closest to us.

  We were only too aware that they didn’t have the luxury of a large quantity of stored supplies to fall back on as we did, and we knew that they would be finding it just as difficult to navigate the snow-filled streets and roads.

  Their food levels would be running low by now, due to the difficulties of scavenging effectively.

  Teams of volunteers, heavily laden with rucksacks full of supplies, set out to see them, and returned exhausted many hours later, with stories of the appalling conditions out there and with messages of thanks from grateful communities.

  All the groups were given assurances that, as they’d agreed to follow the plan and been promised a place at the base, help would be made available to them until the plan could be put into action.

  Jerry finally declared me fit for duty, but to my frustration, there was very little that I could do.

  Pete was constantly thinking up ways to keep people busy: organising games and competitions, and persuading anyone with an area of expertise to give a lecture.

  Allan, who with the help of the engineers, was always desperate to start on another project, constructed a firing range on a neighbouring street and set about training us all on how to use the new weapons we’d received from the base. The “range hut”, heated by a rudimentary fireplace, provided much needed shelter for his eager pupils while they waited their turn, and soon everyone had a basic level of competence on all the new weapons we had.

  We talked about our own way of life now and how it compared to that of the early pioneers and people living subsistence lifestyles. Like them, we’d spent the warmer months gathering enough food and supplies to last us through the long winter and now, forced by the weather, we were having to spend long periods of time cooped up together.

  We kept “cabin fever” at bay by occupying ourselves with jobs or just enjoying the opportunity to spend time together and strengthen our family and friendship bonds.

  It must have been incredibly hard on the smaller groups. We at least had the knowledge that the weather would only last for a few more weeks to keep us going, but the size of our community was also a huge benefit, as there was always someone different to interact with, and a new and different conversation or activity to join in with. But still, with every new fall of snow we would ask ourselves, “How much longer will this go on for?” The weather was never far from anyone’s mind.

  As January slowly turned into February, the weather began to improve and temperatures rose slightly. Although snowdrifts up to a couple of metres deep still lay against the walls of the houses, we began to hope for a thaw. From the lookout post we’d constructed at the top of the church tower, we’d spotted a few distant plumes of smoke, possibly a sign of other groups we hadn’t discovered yet.

  Using a mixture of compass bearings, maps and local knowledge, we managed to identify their approximate positions in the hope of paying them a visit once conditions allowed.

  Eventually the snow levels dropped enough to attempt to reach the base by vehicle. As we had nothing better to do, we all gathered round to watch as the two armoured vehicles left the compound, their crew compartments full of soldiers.

  There hadn’t been sufficient room for everyone who’d been scheduled to return, but although many of them had young families they were desperate to see back at the base, no one had wanted to take someone else’s place.

  So, when volunteers were called for, not one of them had applied. It finally came down to Harry picking names out of a helmet, refusing to take no for an answer and ordering the lucky winners to “just get on the bloody bus!”

  As we huddled together shivering in the near-zero temperatures, watching the vehicles until they disappeared around the corner, my eyes were naturally drawn to the tracks left in the snow.

  Absentmindedly, I remarked to Allan, who was standing beside me, “If we don’t get another fall of snow, until that lot melts we’ll have a bloody great arrow advertising where we are and where the base is.”

  Allan nodded thoughtfully, “Well there’s not much we can do about that now. But with the measures we’ve already taken and the new weapons and extra manpower we have, I’m pretty sure we can keep ourselves safe. Things will only go wrong if we relax or drop our guard.”

  We turned and walked back into the house.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As we watched the snow gradually retreat, we began to look forward to venturing out again and wondered what the coming year would bring. We were confident that we could protect ourselves against physical threats and we still had the reassurance of a store of food for back-up, and the skills and knowledge to catch or grow more, so we weren’t too concerned about going hungry.

  Yes, we knew there were still dangers out there, but we felt in no immediate peril.

  As I’d predicted, groups and individuals had begun to appear at the barricades. They were all in a pitiful state and weak from starvation, malnutrition and frostbite. Out of sheer pity we offered them whatever help we could, but we couldn’t afford to allow them inside the compound. We prepared more houses outside for them to stay in and recuperate, and offered them all the medical help and food they needed, but after the last incident, we’d had to harden our hearts and stick to what we’d agreed.

  We weren’t going to place anyone from the community in danger out of a misguided sense of kindness and trust.

  Although we found it hard to believe, their stories made it clear that they were the lucky ones. They had survived. Thousands more had been unable to find food, and had either starved to death or been preyed upon by gangs who’d stolen everything they’d managed to gather. Most had been discouraged from returning to the cities by the alarming accounts given by the people who were escaping. Instead, they’d opted for trying to survive in the countryside. Many of them had banded together for protection, working together to gather what food was available.

  The human body is capable of withstanding the most extraordinary hardship. If the stories they told applied to the rest of the country, then clearly millions of people had been clinging to survival by their very fingernails.

  But then the winter had hit and many had lost their battle with the freezing temperatures. Whole families had huddled together under blankets in whatever shelter they could find, and died. The conditions had made it impossible to venture out. As soon as they were able to, the few that remained had been forced to leave behind the bodies of their family members and friends. The few who managed to reach us said that even the route to us, through the tyre tracks, had been littered with the bodies of people who had almost made it.

  The base was reporting similar stories. Due to a shortage of suitable accommodation they were building a tented village to house the survivors.

  We knew that what we were doing was important to the recovery programme.

  If we could play just a small part in nursing these people back to health, then hopefully they would be strong enough to travel to the base to begin the important work of growing food for everyone, safe in the knowledge that they and their families would be under the protection of the b
ase.

  Towards the end of February, the weather changed abruptly. The temperature rose by fifteen degrees and we experienced a bewildering mixture of clear sunny days, interchanged with days of torrential rain. The melting snow and the heavy rain caused widespread local flooding. As there are no major rivers or waterways flowing through Birmingham, we escaped the worst of it, with just a few roads rendered impassable by a swollen stream or brook. We knew the waters would soon subside.

  By this time, every last trace of the snow had gone, and along with it, the tracks that had led the refugees to our door.

  The smoke from our cooking fires was still a beacon of hope for the few who managed to make it to us or one of our neighbours, but there were far fewer now, and most of these were escorted by the other communities around us.

  Including the people who had approached the base, a quick census revealed that we’d still only been able to save two hundred and fifty people. And now that the snows had gone, patrols sent out from the base came back with shocking reports of fields choked with the dead bodies of men, women and children. The planners set themselves the grim task of re-calculating the expected survival rate.

  It came out at a truly shocking five percent.

  According to their estimates, only three million people were left alive in the United Kingdom (about half the population of the West Midlands, prior to the event). We shook our heads in despair. We’d seen so few people lately, we knew it was entirely possible that the number was even lower than that.

  Weekly convoys began between our road and the base, primarily to transport the new arrivals, who wanted to take part in the recovery plan. Most were keen to participate, having recognised that it was the only way to ensure their survival, but inexplicably, one or two still refused.

  While they were recovering, we offered them support, but if they were declared fit enough to travel and then showed no interest in the recovery plan, we lost no time in giving them a quantity of supplies, wishing them well and sending them on their way. If they weren’t prepared to contribute, then they could expect no more help from us.