Chapter Thirty Two
A clank of metal and the snorts and whinnies of the horses permeated the frozen air as the first wave of cavalry finally caught up with Jamie and his convoy. The horsemen stayed back behind the vehicles awaiting orders. It would only be minutes until the foot soldiers caught up.
The electrified fence of the perimeter towered in front of them. The brick wall behind it, even taller, studded with razor wire. Curls of snow adorned the formidable fortress. Jamie wondered how they would breach it and how many guards were inside. He saw movement at the top of the wall and realised there were people up there, the tops of their heads just visible. This attack might not be as straightforward as The Voice of the Father anticipated.
Jamie was suddenly assaulted by a sharp memory of the last time he was here and he shook his head to try and dislodge the image. Now was not the time to think of that night. Especially with the task that lay ahead of him.
Matthew took up the mouthpiece for the public address system and spoke:
‘This is your last warning,’ he said. ‘Send out James Grey and the girl. You have two minutes to comply.’
Jamie stared at the gates. Nothing stirred behind them. No people could be seen. No activity. Nothing to suggest they were about to do what they were asked.
Suddenly, a small missile flew down toward them. Over the top of the wall and across the fence, to land at the foot of one of their 4x4s. Jamie’s first thought was that it was a grenade, but then the passenger door to one of the 4x4s opened and a disciple got out, bent down and picked up the thing, whatever it was.
The disciple walked toward their AV. A slow unconcerned walk considering the enemy probably had him in their sights. Jamie wondered what the item could be. He held his breath, waiting to see if the enemy would begin shooting at the man. But there was no activity from behind the wall. And now the disciple stood at Jamie’s window. Jamie withdrew the nose of his AK47 and rested it against his seat. He buzzed the window down further and took the proffered item from the man’s hand.
It was a large rock. Cold and jagged with a note tied around it. Jamie slid the note from under the string and smoothed it out. He read the scrawled message in his head and then passed it along to Matthew. Matthew did not read it aloud either, but his face darkened, his fists clenched and the cold atmosphere deepened further.
‘Read it aloud,’ Matthew said to Jamie, passing the note back to him.
Jamie cleared his throat, unwilling to say the words which would further anger Matthew. ‘We will execute your leader unless you withdraw immediately.’
A gasp from the back. ‘We must do as they say,’ came a stern voice.
Matthew ignored the advice. ‘No,’ he said.
‘But we cannot risk Our Father’s life,’ the disciple said. ‘His life is the whole reason we are here.’
‘Do you question me?’ Matthew said. ‘I am The Voice of the Father. I speak for Him. I know what Our Father would wish. Do you question his judgement in choosing me?’
‘Of course not,’ the disciple said. ‘But I . . .’
‘Prepare to attack,’ Matthew said to the one who had delivered the message. ‘Disable the fence and blow up the gates. Kill them all, but bring me the girl alive.’
‘And what about Our Father?’ the disciple said.
‘What?’ Matthew snapped.
‘We must bring him out alive too.’
‘What? Yes. Of course.’
The man gave a short bow and turned away, returning to his vehicle to deliver his orders.
Matthew waved his hand at their driver who started up the engine and drove around the other vehicles so that they were now toward the back at the western edge of their army, leaving the rest of their convoy at the head of their troops. Jamie still had a good view of the gates, but they were now much further from the front line.
Up at the front, the bank of vehicles cranked into life and began to crawl forward. Behind them, the first wave of foot soldiers swept past the cavalry. Moving silently across the snow, they took up the chant. Jamie mouthed along, willing victory to be with them. The whole mass of men and machines moved forward until they were in firing range, and then halted. It was as though they were waiting for something. Jamie was dying to know the battle plan. Glancing at The Voice of the Father and noting the grim smile on his face, Jamie dared not ask. He would have to watch and see.
Then a volley of shots came down from the enemy guards along the top of the wall. Some ricocheted off the metal roofs of the vehicles, others found their mark and sank into flesh. Grey’s men returned fire with accuracy. Several bodies slumped down across the wall, some caught up in razor wire, others tumbling to their deaths. Cries of pain were heard from behind the battlements. But weapons fire still continued to rain onto the front line. And the warriors still held their positions.
Next, Matthew’s snipers scuttled forward and crouched behind the front row of vehicles, rifles aimed at the gate. A tightly packed group of warriors settled behind them, and Jamie made out a large shape in their midst. A gun. A huge rifle so heavy it took two men to carry it. Soldiers fanned out around them, protecting the precious weapon. Taking fire. Dying. To keep the gun safe. To keep the marksman safe.
Once the weapon had been set up on the ground, the remaining warriors drew back and Jamie saw that it was some kind of anti-material rifle. It looked like it would have a wicked recoil. The gunner was already in place on the ground. He wore ear defenders and had his eye locked on the telescopic sight at the front. A second man lay beside him with his own scope – his spotter – picking out the targets for him so the shooter could concentrate on his aim.
Jamie held his breath, waiting.
After what seemed like an age, but must have been only moments, the gunner fired. The sound was incredible. Like a canon going off.
He had blasted a great hole in the fence and the wall beyond. Then he fired again and again until the hole was large enough for a man to get through. The gunner shifted position and focused on another area of the fence, doing exactly the same thing. Once he’d blasted half a dozen of these holes, the fence sparked, crackled and died as the electrical current shorted out.
The gunner now turned his attention to the outer gates.
Jamie flicked his eyes to the perimeter and guessed the man was aiming at the spot where the gates met the posts – going for the hinges. He watched in awe as the heavy metal of the posts tore and buckled. The shooter fired again and again at each hinge until eventually the gates wobbled, groaned and crashed forward with an almighty bang, sending snow and mud spraying into the air, the gate posts now reduced to a mess of twisted metal.
The perimeter fence was breached.
* * *
The next twenty minutes was spent packing. I told Ma it was just a precaution. Like a fire drill. To my surprise, she didn’t freak out. Said it reminded her of going on holiday as a child. She told me stories of fraught car journeys and early mornings at airports, where you could find people of every nationality. Of speeding down long runways and taking off above the clouds. A bit like copter travel, only much, much more exciting. Lazy days spent on warm beaches where everyone was relaxed and happy. Her brothers throwing her into the waves. Laughing.
It sounded like a fairytale.
As she reminisced, we stuffed cases and bags with warm clothes, medicines and food supplies. I lugged crates of weapons and ammo from Pa’s stores and we loaded up the two AVs and trailers. I also took Rita’s advice and packed us each a rucksack of essentials. Ma tried to ask me about Luc, but I wasn’t in the mood to share my feelings. I could tell she was hurt by this, so I gave her a hug and said it was still early days.
Once we were done, I sat halfway up the stairs, feeling the enormity of our situation. Would I get to stay here, in my house? Or would this army batter down our defences and kick us all out? I’d had these worries before, but now they felt like they could actually become a reality. It was crazy. We were The Talbot Wood Perimeter. We were the ones other people contacted for help, not the other way around. And now we might be brought to our knees. We might have to evacuate our homes. We might never come back. This place, my home, could very well be trashed and picked apart. The land claimed back by nature. I pictured it all in my head. Our beautiful safe home destroyed.
How would we be able to live out there? Permanently. Plus it was the depths of winter. And with Eddie gone, we had lost so much of what made this place familiar and safe. What about Ma? How would she cope without her beloved house and perimeter fence to protect her? I had to keep busy. Couldn’t sit here and dwell on what ifs. There was no point.
Ma came down the stairs and I stood up to let her pass. Instead, she sat down and patted the stair for me to sit back down. I did as she wanted and she leant her head on my shoulder.
‘I love you, Riley,’ she said.
‘Love you too, Ma.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘What for?’
‘For not being a great mother anymore. I know I’m not as strong as I should be. I know I pretend things are better than they are. I . . .’
‘Ma,’ I said. ‘It’s okay. You’re doing the best you can. We all are. That’s all we can do.’
‘You’re a good girl, Riley.’ She kissed my cheek. ‘I’m glad you and Luc have each other. Everybody needs to have a somebody.’
‘You and Pa seem good now,’ I said.
‘Your father is an amazing man,’ Ma said. ‘I worry about him every second he’s away from me.’
‘Pa can take care of himself,’ I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. I thought of Eddie’s truck exploding across the snow, bile rising to the back of my throat. But I still couldn’t bring myself to tell Ma what happened.
Suddenly, I heard a boom. Louder than a gunshot, but not as loud as the devastating explosion earlier this morning. Ma and I looked at each other when another boom rattled the windows. We stood up and slowly walked down the rest of the staircase.
‘What was that?’ Ma asked, her voice barely audible.
I shook my head. ‘That sounded bad,’ I said. ‘I hope they haven’t got through the fence.’
More blasts shook our bones.
‘Johnny,’ Ma whispered. ‘What if your Pa . . .’
‘Stop,’ I said. ‘Wait here and I’ll go and find out.’
‘No, it’s not safe.’
‘Well I can’t just stay here, not knowing,’ I said. ‘I’m going to get Luc.’
‘Okay,’ she said, as another explosion made us cringe.
‘Wait here,’ I said.
She gripped my hand and I had to pry it loose.
‘Try not to worry,’ I said uselessly as I reached for my coat on the banister post.
I opened the door just as a car pulled into the drive with a screech. My Uncle Tom got out, his breaths coming hard, his face grimy with smoke and dirt.
‘What’s happening?’ I asked. ‘Is Pa okay?’
‘He’s fine, but . . .’
‘What?’ Ma said. ‘What is it, Tom?’
‘The fence is breached and the wall won’t hold much longer.’
‘Oh my God,’ I said. I knew the explosions must have been something bad, but to hear that the fence was breached . . .
‘They’ve got through the fence?’ Ma said, bringing her hands to her mouth.
‘We should’ve told them we’d kill Grey,’ I said. ‘FJ still thinks he’s alive. Surely he wouldn’t risk us harming his beloved leader.’
‘We did that already,’ Uncle Tom said. ‘We sent a note threatening him with Grey’s execution. But it didn’t make any difference. He doesn’t seem to care about their leader anymore. Either that or he doesn’t believe us. You have to hide in the underground stores. Tell Luc. Tell everyone. But be quick. Get the children and the elderly. Make sure they all go down there where it’s safe. Where FJ can’t find you.’