UK Dark Trilogy

by Harris, Chris

  “Pam and William, could you please go and get the others to come up. They must be going out of their minds. Tell them to get the car as close as possible; we can sort things out later.”

  As the two ran off to speak to the others, the four strangers continued to gape at us in silence. They seemed to be finding it difficult to believe we were real, although in fairness to them, they probably hadn’t had any contact with anyone for quite some time. The sudden appearance of dozens of intimidating people carrying weapons and wearing masks would be quite hard to process quickly.

  That said, they really needed to snap out of it. “Right, then,” I said briskly, “the rest of us will be arriving soon. Do you have a camp or base where it will be more comfortable to meet everyone and maybe get a brew going?”

  The man blinked a few times and managed to pull himself together.

  “Yes, yes of course. Let me show you to our camp.”

  We followed them a short distance until we came to another clearing.

  I was surprised to see an articulated lorry along one side of the clearing. There were also a number of structures fashioned out of branches and logs arranged around a central fire pit. A large tent had been pitched under a crude, but effective looking shelter, providing additional protection from the elements.

  Still looking a little dazed, the man pointed out some chairs arranged around the fire. A large tarpaulin had been suspended above them to provide shelter from the weather.

  “Please. Take a seat. I’m sorry we don’t have enough chairs.”

  “Not a problem. Sorry, in all the excitement we didn’t get to introduce ourselves properly. I’m Tom, as you know, and you obviously know Harry here. I won’t introduce everyone else yet, because it will all get confusing. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. What are your names?”

  “I’m Steve,” he said awkwardly, “Steve Bradley, and this is my wife Toni and my son Logan and daughter Sophie.”

  A loud whistle from somewhere in the woods interrupted us.

  Harry laughed. “They can’t find us; I’ll go and get them.” He turned and walked off in search of the others, disappearing quickly through the trees.

  Steve turned to his family, “Listen! You’re not going to believe who that is. That’s Prince Harry!”

  They looked back at him in astonishment. “No!” said Toni.

  “Yes, it is!” I said, laughing, “We’ll tell you our story later. You may not find some of it believable, but ...” I pointed in the direction that Harry had gone, “we do have the evidence to back it all up. I’m sorry if we seem a bit distracted.

  We had to leave our home and a lot of our friends and family behind this morning. Most of them are very sick and we’re not sure if they’ll survive or not.”

  I reached into a pocket, where I had some spare masks, and handed them to Steve.

  “It would be best if you put these on. One of us may be infected but not be showing symptoms.”

  Steve suddenly looked angry, and was about to say something when I stopped him.

  “Look I know what you’re about to say. In your situation, I’d probably feel the same, but we’ve all been examined by a doctor, and I can assure you we’re only keeping the masks on until we know we’re all clear. You’ll be completely safe, believe me. The masks are just a precaution.”

  By now the rest of our group was arriving, and as the family hurriedly put on their masks and stepped forward, our circle opened up to include them.

  “Everyone, this is Steve and Toni and their kids, Logan and Sophie.”

  The others nodded and smiled and I turned back to Steve.

  “Look, it may seem a bit late to ask, but I hope you won’t mind if we join you and set up camp in this wood. I’m sure with the supplies and resources we have to offer it would be of huge benefit to you.”

  Steve looked at his wife, who said nothing, then looked back at all of us. “Well, I suppose realistically I don’t have much choice in the matter, but as far as we’re concerned, you’re all welcome. We haven’t seen another soul for months and we sure could do with some help. I don’t want to go through another winter like the one we’ve just had.”

  Everyone looked relieved. This would be our new home for the foreseeable future.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Steve showed us the track he’d used to get the lorry into the woods. After we’d cleared it of the felled trees he’d used to block it, we drove the Land Rover and trailer into the clearing.

  Although we were impatient to exchange stories, we agreed to unload and set up first. First and foremost, we needed shelter.

  Chris and Harry took over. The plan initially was to set up hammocks under tarpaulin shelters. This was by far the easiest and quickest way to make sure everyone had somewhere warm and comfortable to sleep.

  Chris had taught us well, and in no time at all the tarpaulins were up and the hammocks were hung between suitable trees. The children greeted the prospect of sleeping under the stars with great excitement, but the mood among the adults was rather more subdued. We couldn’t help wondering what our people were going through back at the compound.

  The masks made any sort of physical work uncomfortable and slowed our pace considerably, but eventually most of the stuff we’d brought with us had been unloaded, and under Pete’s supervision, had been set up or stacked in orderly piles.

  While we carried out Chris’s instructions, Harry, whose primary concern was now security, checked out the woods and the surrounding area. He returned an hour later with a list of jobs he needed help with. He’d decided to build look-out posts at strategic places and create some defensible positions we could use if we were attacked. This would all take some doing, but the basics could be completed relatively quickly and then improved upon over time.

  Harry commandeered a few willing helpers and, gathering some equipment, they trudged off into the woods to make a start.

  Steve and his family were going out of their way to be helpful, and although we’d found out the hard way that it was not a good idea to trust strangers, before long we decided they were genuine enough and we felt that they would fit in well.

  We were about to call it a day, as we felt we’d accomplished enough to make us all comfortable and everyone was now emotionally and physically exhausted, when Pete turned up looking pale and serious.

  “William, can I have a word?” he said quietly, and we watched uneasily as he placed his hand on his shoulder and took him to one side. We all knew that William had been forced to leave the compound with his two oldest children while his youngest, Adam, had remained behind with his wife.

  Pete spoke too softly for us to hear but the message was clear. William let out a heart wrenching wail and fell to his knees, sobbing. His two older children, James and Heather, hung back miserably, tears streaming down their faces.

  Unable to bear the sight I turned to Becky, who was weeping quietly, and we held each other for comfort.

  We were all devastated by the news of Adam’s death, and those who had left people behind experienced renewed feelings of terror about what the future might hold for them.

  To make matters worse, Pete quietly explained that Jerry was expecting more deaths before too long. Despite all his efforts, there was little he could do for them medically. All he and his helpers could do was try to make the patients as comfortable as possible.

  Only Allan seemed to be holding his own. Perhaps he had acquired some natural immunity somehow. But the thought of him fighting was some consolation to us.

  Leaving William, James and Heather to deal with their pain as best they could, the rest of us, exhausted and drained, gathered quietly around the camp fire, which was now blazing cheerfully.

  Its light and warmth offered us some small comfort in the growing gloom.

  Toni had thoughtfully made a large pot of stew from her own supplies to feed us all, and we queued up gratefully, clutching our mess tins. Then we returned to the fireside to eat, most of us lost in
our own thoughts. William and his children joined us briefly for some food, managed a little, and then headed off sadly to their sleeping area.

  It didn’t take long to get the exhausted children off to sleep.

  Although we were all incredibly weary, most of us were reluctant to turn in. The knowledge that we were likely to receive more bad news in the morning weighed heavily on our minds. I suppose by putting off going to bed, we were hoping to delay the inevitable.

  And we also wanted to tell Steve and Toni our story and listen to theirs.

  I began, with several other people chipping in at opportune moments, and together we gave Steve and Toni an abridged version of everything that had happened to us so far, promising to fill them in on the details over the next few days.

  Having told our story to various people over time, it was now finely honed, and it wasn’t long before they were fully appraised of what had happened to us and what, to the best of our knowledge, had been happening in the wider world.

  They were horrified to learn of the expected death toll nationally, but somewhat cheered by the news that the majority of the survivors were working jointly with what was left of the government to try to rebuild.

  For the most part they listened without comment, asking a few pertinent questions here and there, but otherwise just absorbing all the information we were giving them.

  When we’d finished, Steve told us what had happened to them.

  Steve had been an owner/operator lorry driver. In other words, he’d owned his own lorry and hauled goods on a contract basis for several companies.

  The previous year, about a week before the event, he’d been overjoyed to receive out of the blue, a contract to start hauling goods for a company at what appeared to be fantastic rates. The company was also offering large bonuses for early acceptance and for any driver completing more runs than specified in the contract.

  It all seemed too good to be true, but after quickly investigating the company on the internet, he’d been satisfied that they were legitimate and had quickly accepted the contract.

  From day one, his suspicions were aroused. He was using his tractor unit to pick up trailers from supermarket food distribution warehouses and delivering them to locations received via his phone, which he was required to check regularly for instructions.

  He’d hauled from these places in the past when supermarkets needed extra capacity at busy times such as Christmas. But this level of activity was unprecedented.

  Everyone seemed to be in a rush and the logistics involved in keeping all the extra rigs and trailers moving in a coordinated fashion was impressive. Furthermore, there always seemed to be a few military people around.

  Whenever he asked what was going on, he was always told the same thing: there had been a massive computer failure at other similar warehouses across the country. The remaining ones were having to cover all those locations and the government had sent in their logistics experts to help, hence the uniforms.

  At one point, he received an email from the company advising that, due to exceptional circumstances, if he found himself exceeding his tachograph hours to complete the job, he should not be concerned. The government had classified the work as being “in the national interest” and therefore any tachograph transgressions would be disregarded.

  This really shocked him, as the email was more or less stating that it was OK to break the law.

  He explained that in the UK, commercial vehicles were fitted with devices called tachographs which continually monitored and recorded the lorry’s activity. This ensured that drivers didn’t break the strict laws on hours worked and speed exceeded etc.

  The story was plausible enough I suppose, if you didn’t have an enquiring mind. And the longer hours would mean a lot more money.

  After two days of hauling from food distribution points, he received instructions to start hauling containers from docks.

  The UK had always imported vast quantities of food. We were, after all, a small island with a large population, and for decades it had not been possible for us to produce enough to feed ourselves. Without the container ships constantly delivering a huge variety of foodstuffs, we would have starved.

  Steve was aware of this, and happily continued with the contract, all the time planning what he would spend the extra money on.

  Everything was going well until he blew a tyre on an A road on the way to drop a container. It was to be his first drop at this location and he was mystified by it. The satellite navigation system had directed him to a field in the middle of open countryside. Then the instructions he had received on his phone had advised him to trust the directions.

  He had also been instructed that, in the event of a breakdown he should contact the office and they would dispatch their own recovery company. After inspecting his shredded tyre and realising that he needed help, he called the number he’d been given and reported his location.

  He was politely told to wait. Someone would be with him as soon as possible.

  From experience, he was prepared for a long wait. He used a portable stove to boil up some water for a cup of coffee, and relaxed in his cab. About twenty minutes later he was surprised to see a recovery truck approaching and he was even more taken aback when two soldiers carrying sidearms stepped out of the cab and approached him.

  He was astounded that he was receiving roadside assistance from the military, so of course he was full of questions. To begin with, the soldiers seemed unwilling to talk and set about changing the wheel, but the more he talked to them, the more they began to open up.

  They had been working as vehicle mechanics with the Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers when they’d suddenly been mobilised, given requisitioned recovery trucks, and sent to locations to await breakdowns. He was their first, so they had been wondering if it was some sort of exercise and had been naturally suspicious of “the man in the broken-down truck”.

  Once they had established that he was genuine, and was just a bloke in need of assistance, they relaxed and began to talk.

  They were just as confused as him. They were in touch with friends in other regiments; some had been mobilised like them, and some were carrying on as if nothing had happened.

  They reported dozens of lorries, loaded mainly with foodstuffs, delivering to a huge newly constructed area where they were being asked to wait until they were needed. The loads were then split up and sent on their way.

  Lots of rumours were flying about but the most common one, and the one that appealed to them most, was that something catastrophic was going to happen in the next few days and all this effort was to get food to where it was going to be needed most. Knowing that most rumours in the military, although exaggerated, are usually based on fact, they realised that this one was probably true.

  Before long, Steve’s truck was roadworthy again, and with more questions than answers, he continued on to his destination.

  As soon as he arrived he knew that something big was happening.

  The so-called “field” he had been directed to was an immense, recently built hardstanding, where containers of foodstuffs were rapidly being unloaded, split up and loaded back on to other vehicles that were standing by.

  It was exactly as the soldiers had described it.

  As he helped himself to a cup of coffee from a mobile canteen, he tried talking to the other drivers to find out if they knew what was going on. The majority were only interested in the money they were earning, and were reluctant to ask questions, in case it jeopardised the gravy train they had found themselves on.

  A few admitted they had queried what was going on, but they had been told to shut up and get on with their jobs.

  Worried and even more confused, he finished his last run and made his way home.

  That evening, once the children were in bed, he talked everything through with Toni.

  At first, she was dismissive but she quickly realised how serious he was. She suggested that he should try to find out more the following
day.

  The next day he was asked to haul a container from the docks to the same location as the day before. After he had dropped his trailer and was waiting for his next load, he happened to glance through the window of one of the portacabins and noticed a man sitting alone at a desk. He was in uniform and looked reasonably senior.

  He decided to go for broke and try to find out what was really going on.

  He knocked firmly on the door, entered the portacabin and politely and calmly introduced himself to the officer. He described everything he’d heard and witnessed over the last few days and asked, for the sake of himself and his family, if he would kindly explain it all.

  The officer looked at him for a full minute in silence. Then he stood up and locked the door to his office and motioned for Steve to sit down.

  Then he told him what he knew.

  The officer (Steve never found out his name) admitted that he had been wrestling with his own conscience for some time over this. Even he hadn’t been given all the facts, but he had managed to piece most of it together from the snippets of information he had garnered himself. He had only had it confirmed that very morning, when he had confronted his own commanding officer.

  He insisted that it was not that the military and the government were keeping secrets; there just hadn’t been time to inform everyone. The main priority had been to secure as much of the nation’s food supplies as possible so that it could be distributed as part of the planned relief effort.

  The order had just come through for them to return to base, along with the food-filled lorries that had been allocated to them. There were no more supplies to be distributed. Every major food distribution hub had been emptied and every delivery of food into the country that could possibly be identified, either by air or sea, had been diverted.

  He had received no instructions on how to deal with the civilian contractors who had been working for them, or even what to say to them. This oversight, he assured Steve, had been due to the panic and chaos of the past few days. There had literally been no time to think about it.