Authors: David Moody
“So most of the work is down to you.”
“Pretty much.”
“What about Melanie? She still here?”
“Oh, she’s here all right. Dirty bitch.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“Is it? Dirty cow’s just a communal fuck-buddy. Whenever she wants anything she just flashes her tits and flutters her eyelids at one of the blokes and they cover for her.”
“You could try that.”
“You could fuck off! I’ve got more self-respect. Anyway, I’d destroy the piss-poor men here. I’d eat you alive for starters.”
“Look, I’m not arguing. I know you would!” He paused, then asked her if she was going to leave for the island.
“I’m planning to,” she answered quietly. “I don’t like the way things are going here.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“Ah, it’s just all the usual bollocks you get when there are too many dumb blokes stuck in the same place together with limited options. They stop thinking sensibly and spend all their time playing bloody stupid mind games with each other.”
“Jas and Jackson?”
“Jackson tries to keep Jas in check, but from where I’m sitting it looks like Jas is the one with more influence these days. You’ve heard about Howard, haven’t you?”
“I haven’t heard anything. Haven’t seen much of him, come to that. I tried to talk to him earlier, but he was in a right fucking foul mood.”
“He lost his dog last week.”
“Shit. What happened? Did it get sick or…?”
“Mark Ainsworth happened. Apparently Jas had said something to him about Dog using up food which was meant for us. So Ainsworth threw the dog out. Middle of the night he just opened the gates and kicked the poor little bastard out. Howard was in bits, and they wouldn’t let him out to look for her.”
“Fuck me.”
“And that’s not the worst of it.”
“There’s worse?”
“Hollis.”
“Yeah, where is he? I was looking for him…”
“Gone,” she said, sounding subdued.
“Gone where?”
“No idehey kicked him out too.”
“Why?”
“Were you here when he had that accident?”
“The shit pit? When he busted Steve Morecombe’s arm up? That’s a point, I haven’t seen Steve either.”
“You wouldn’t have. He’s dead.”
“Dead? How?”
“How d’you think? His broken arm got infected. Sue’s supposed to be a nurse, but if you need anything more than a fucking headache tablet, she’s next to useless. I swear, it was like when Ellie and Anita died. All we could do was watch the poor sod fade away. Happened last week. Fucking horrible, it was.”
“But Hollis … it was just an accident. It wasn’t like he meant to do it.”
“I know, but you know what he’s like. He takes it all so personally. The toilets hadn’t been emptied, so he went back again to sort them out. Jas caught him on the digger and they ended up fighting. He practically threw him out. He gave him a choice—spend all his time in his caravan, virtually under lock and key, or leave. So he walked.”
“Fuck…”
“To be honest, I think Hollis was happy to go. And have you seen the state of the shit pit since you’ve been back?”
“I went to use it earlier but couldn’t face it. The stink was terrible. Found a quiet bit of wall and took a piss up that instead.”
“Exactly. The toilets are overflowing, the pit reeks, there’s flies everywhere … Hollis was the only one who kept on top of the waste, so to speak. Now he’s gone, no one else is willing to get their hands dirty. Jas has just shot himself in the foot. Well, all of us, really. I swear, Harte, it’s getting to be like the Dark Ages here.”
“Everything all right?” a voice asked from behind them, startling them both. Harte spun around. He couldn’t immediately see who it was, but Lorna knew straightaway. It was Mark Ainsworth.
“Have you met my stalker?” she whispered before raising her voice to answer Ainsworth. “We’re fine, thanks. Just catching up on a little gossip.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Just be careful what you’re gossiping about, right?”
“Will do. Thanks, Mark.”
Harte listened carefully until he was sure that Ainsworth had gone again.
“What’s his problem?” he whispered.
“Where do I start? Auilty conscience, for one thing. That and the fact he’s probably jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
“Us talking. He’s taken quite a shine to me, unfortunately. He’s setting his sights a little higher than a quick fumble around the back of a caravan with Melanie now.”
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“You’ve changed, Lor. When I first met you, you’d have eaten blokes like Mark Ainsworth for breakfast. Christ, I remember how you used to run rings around Webb and the others back at the flats.”
“I’m still the same,” she said quietly, “it’s the situation that’s changed. I’m keeping the blokes sweet while I have to, that’s all. I’ll do their cooking and a little bit of cleaning and I might even flutter my eyelids at them when it suits, but if they fuck around with me or overstep the mark, I’ll break their balls.”
“I don’t doubt you. I’m not going to argue.”
“I wouldn’t. Anyway, it won’t be for much longer. I’ve just been biding my time until I get out of here, and you bringing that helicopter here has just changed everything.”
27
In an ideal world, Cooper thought, which this place was most definitely not, he’d have been in and out of the castle in a matter of hours. As it was, they’d already been hanging around for most of the day and he expected to be around for a little longer still, probably overnight. He’d been to some hellish, war-torn places during his years of service, and he’d had more than his fair share of awkward situations to try and resolve through diplomacy, and this was no different. Although Jackson was keen to leave the castle, Jas most definitely was yet to be convinced. Cooper thought it better to spend a little time trying to get all of them onside rather than going in heavy-handed and screwing everything up. But even Cooper’s patience was being tested tonight. He felt like they were going around in circles, and he had to keep reminding himself they were actually trying to help these people. Every time he made a suggestion, he felt like it was being shot down by Jas and a few others without any consideration. He was on the verge of getting the others together and flying back to Chadwick.
The small classroom was packed and stiflingly hot, overheated by a paraffin heater at one end. It was brightly lit by lamps running off a series of connected extension cords which were, in turn, connected to a small but bloody noisy petrol generator outside. Condensation was running down the windows. Harte felt increasingly uncomfortable, and not just because of the heat. He’d been shocked by the things he’d seen and heard since returning to the castle. The atmosphere had changed markedly, and it seemed to be continually changing still, almost from minute to minute depending on who he was talking to.
He’d already learned that the looting expedition to Chadwick he’d been a part o had been the last time anyone had left the castle. It seemed that, since then, some of the direction Jackson had previously provided had been ignored. The wooden construction to investigate the well, which he himself had helped put together many weeks ago, remained in exactly the same unfinished state as when he’d last seen it. There were huge piles of waste gathered around the edges of the courtyard and, as he’d already discovered, the cesspit and toilets were full to overflowing. There’d also been a fire in one of the caravans; he’d noticed after talking to Lorna earlier. There was smoke damage and black scorch marks around several of the windows, but no attempt had been made to do anything about the wreck.
Harte positioned himself at the edge of the group, quite near the front, not completely sure where he should be sitting. He took comfort in some of the familiar faces he could see—Lorna, Caron, Driver, and Howard—but he now found himself aligning more with Donna, Richard, and Cooper. He hadn’t seen it, didn’t even know for sure if it really existed, but their idyllic island of Cormansey, despite its apparent bleakness and basic lifestyle, seemed his idea of heaven tonight. Too bad a vociferous handful didn’t seem to share his opinion. He could tell that Cooper was getting annoyed.
“I don’t see what the problem is. We’re offering you a place that’s safe and free from walking bodies and all the complications they bring.”
“Well, why don’t you just fuck off back there, then?” Jas said unhelpfully. He’d been increasingly obstructive since this “town hall” meeting had begun what felt like hours ago now. Unfortunately he seemed to have plenty of vocal support. “Listen, I agree with what you’re saying in principle, but this island of yours is completely the wrong place. You’re cutting yourself off.”
“Cutting ourselves off from what?” Donna demanded, unable to believe what she was hearing. “There’s fuck all else left.”
Jas continued. “I think it’s better to stay here and wait a little longer. Here we’ve got access to what’s left of the entire country. Better than some barren little island with half a dozen houses.”
“But can’t you see? The island is much more than that. It’s the best bet for all of us. I’ll be honest, there’s still plenty more work to be done, but with more of us there it’ll be finished quicker and we’ll be self-sufficient. It’s clean and safe.”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living in some hippie-loving, new-age commune,” Kieran said.
“Seems to me we’re all going to have to become self-sufficient whether we like it or not,” Jackson interrupted, beginning to sound as frustrated as Cooper. “There’s no alternative now, is there? There’s no government anymore, no benefits system, no McDonalds, no utility companies, no Internet…”
“No government.” Ainsworth smirked. “Sounds pretty good to me when you put it like that.”
Jackson sighed. “Come on, grow up.”
“—and by then we’ll
all
be dead and buried,” Jas said. “With only this many of us left, we’ll be picking meat off the bones for years yet. There’s nothing you’ve got on your island that we haven’t got here, but there’s plenty here that you’ll go without. You’re isolating yourselves unnecessarily. Cutting yourselves off like this seems bloody futile.”
“I think you’re looking at this completely the wrong way,” Donna said, refusing to give up. “You’re still thinking about things in terms of your old life and all the stuff you
used
to need. All that’s gone now. Everything’s changed. Here’s an example—cars and roads. We don’t need them anymore to any great extent, because you can walk the entire length of the island in a couple of hours.”
“I understand that, but why
should
I do without cars? There are millions of them just lying around. I could have any car I could ever dream of, it’s just a question of finding it and getting it started. What you’re suggesting is limiting yourselves to some kind of medieval lifestyle.”
“You’re the one living in a castle,” Richard said under his breath.
“No, we’re not limiting ourselves,” Donna protested. “Bloody hell, Jas, what do you think’s going to happen when the bodies are completely finished and you finally pluck up courage to go back outside? Are you just going to flick a few switches and turn the world back on again? You won’t get the power working, or the gas. What happens when all the batteries in all the cars finally run flat, or when all the fuel’s used up and you’ve drained every tank dry? What do you do then? You’re going to end up building yourself an island of your own, and you’ll be as stranded and cut off as we are.”
“Bollocks.”
“She’s right,” Jackson said, speaking just to Jas initially, but then turning around so that he could address everyone in the room. “It’s all about economies of scale now. The world’s too far gone to pull back from the brink. We’ve got no choice but to go right back to basics, and no matter what you say, Jas, Donna’s right. Your world is going to keep getting smaller and smaller until it’s just you. They’ve already anticipated that on the island. And because of their location and their attitude, they’re going to try and build something from the ruins instead of just picking meat off the bones, as you put it. I don’t know about the rest of you lot, but I think our best bet is to leave here with these people and head for the island.”
“I don’t,” Jas said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, but also strangely unemotional and detached. In the expectant pause before he spoke again, the only sound was the steady low thumping of the generator outside. It sounded like a headache felt. “Leaving the mainland would be a mistake,” he continued, “and it’s atake you’ll find hard to put right. They’re not going to operate charter helicopter flights to fly you back if things don’t work out, are they? Anyone who leaves here will be risking everything. We’d be completely cut off. What happens if things go wrong? Where’s the escape plan?”
“If we do it right we won’t need to escape,” Lorna said. Jas looked at her with disappointment.
“I thought you’d understand, Lorna. You should know better than most that you
always
need an escape plan. Do you remember what happened when we were at the flats, or have you already forgotten about Ellie and Anita?”
She shook her head. Several low and uneasy sounding conversations began to spring up.
“Of course I haven’t forgotten them,” Lorna said. “You’re just scaremongering.”
“No, I’m not,” he said. “This is an important and valid point. For those of you who don’t know, Ellie and Anita were with us a long time back, right at the beginning. They both got sick and died. We don’t know what killed them or why it didn’t finish the rest of us off, we just packed up and moved on rather than hang around and find out. So tell me, if there’s an outbreak of something like the disease that killed Ellie and Anita on the island, where are you going to run to?”
“What do you think the source was?” Cooper asked.
“Don’t know,” Jas replied. “We assumed it was the bodies. We were surrounded by masses of them.”
“Problem solved, then. We don’t have any bodies on Cormansey. Nothing to worry about.”
“We
assumed
it was the bodies,” Jas said again, “but I’ve long wondered if that really was the case. No one else got sick after them, and we were all exposed, some of us considerably more so, in fact. It might have been something else—something they both ate, something they smoked, something naturally occurring. Don’t forget, we’re moving into an age now where our chances of getting ill are going to increase. Smallpox, TB, the Black Death … who knows what might make a reappearance to bite our arses.”
“Donna’s right—now you
are
just scaremongering,” Cooper said. “The risks of getting contagious diseases are hardly going to increase when there’s no one else left to catch them from. Look, I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. We came here to offer a solution, not to cause more problems.”
Jas stood up and pointed accusingly at him.
“Have you not listened to anything I’ve said? Your bloody solution might well turn out to be the cause of the problems. The bottom line is, isolating ourselves on an island is just too big a chance to take. We can’t risk it.
I
won’t risk it, and if anyone else here has got any sense, they won’t either.”
Jackson alsoo his feet. He’d had enough.
“We’re not going to get anywhere like this. I suggest we all sleep on it. Make your decisions overnight. Those who want to leave can go first thing. The rest of you can stay.”
Jas nodded his agreement. He remained where he was for a few moments longer, but there was nothing left to say. He left the room, meeting over. Several others—Kieran, Bayliss, Ainsworth, Paul Field, and Melanie among them—left with him.
Cooper helped himself to a can of lager and downed it at once. Around him, other people began drifting away until just a handful remained. Donna pulled up a chair next to him, a drink in her hand too. Richard remained dry—their designated driver, ready to take the controls of the helicopter in a hurry if they needed him to. And although it was looking increasingly likely they were going to be spending the night here, he wasn’t taking any chances.
Caron was still sitting at the back of the classroom with Driver. Harte walked over and sat down next to her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she replied, before adding, “all things considered. It’s a little stifling in here tonight, don’t you think? Bit too much testosterone for my liking.”
Harte smirked. Good old caustic Caron. Hers was the wine-addled voice of reason. He’d forgotten her uncanny ability to cut through the bullshit and see things for what they were.
“That helicopter guy,” she whispered, “he said they’ve got a girl on this island of theirs that’s pregnant.”
“They have. I met the father.”
“He’s here?”
“Back in Chadwick. They didn’t let him come here. Didn’t want him to risk butting heads with Jas and his mates.”
“Sensible. Shame, though.”
“What’s a shame?”
“The pregnant girl. Having a kid born into all this mess.”
“And that’s half the problem, I think. No one knows if it’ll be born at all. Providing it doesn’t come out coughing up blood, it should be okay … I guess.”
“Suppose. I don’t fancy its chances, though. Poor little thing will probably grow up wild. Doesn’t bear thinking about really.”
“So what are you going to do, Caron? Stay here or leave?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she answered honestly. “There are plenty of aspects which appeal, but you know me. All that hard work and physical graft? I’ll always get my hands dirty when I have to, but I’m no cleaner and I’m certainly not a farmer. My childbearing days are long over, so I’m not a lot of use to anyne anymore. Mind you, that’s how I like it. I just want to retire quietly. All I need is a decent supply of food, a few bottles of wine, and a library. I’m happy just reading and drinking until I drop.”
“I know you too well. You say that, but I think you want more than that.”
“I quite like the look of that helicopter pilot,” she half joked.
“You know what I mean.”
“A little peace and quiet and some booze, that’ll do me nicely, thank you very much.”
“The island sounds peaceful. Mind you, try finding somewhere that
isn’t
quiet these days.”
“I know. Truth is, I’m really not sure what I want to do yet. I need a good night’s sleep to try and help me decide. I can see plenty of reasons for staying, but I can find as many good reasons to go.”
“Well, I’m going,” Driver said, eavesdropping on their conversation. “I’ll tell you this for nothing, first chance I get I’m buggering off to this island. Always fancied retiring to the country, I did.”