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Post by garethn on Oct 1, 2018 3:34:36 GMT -6
Chapter 7 - Home The most frightening thing about watching people like Mike go into combat mode is how quickly it happens. One moment we were walking back from Mr Ahmed’s shop towards my house. We were carrying two heavy boxes that had been packed for us. Mike seemed his normal laid-back self though I did notice that his eyes were everywhere. Then there came a scream from Susan’s house. He instantly pushed the girls and me back against the hedge. “Do I get involved?” he asked in a low voice. It was Susan; I nodded. “How many people live there?” “One woman, Susan, quite tall, fair hair.” With a nod he vanished. A few seconds later his pistol sounded twice. And less than a minute later he was back. “Ok, you can come now,” he said picking up the box he had been carrying. He had a broad smile but his eyes looked slightly strange. He nodded at one of Susan's neighbours who was peering through a window and mimed that she should open it. “Sergeant Mike Jenkins,” he said when she did so. “Susan had an unwanted visitor but the situation has now been resolved. Oh… and may I suggest that next time you hear gunfire; you find a better observation spot. Window glass provides neither effective cover nor concealment, Ma’am.” “You seem remarkably cheerful,” I observed as we walked together towards the house. “It's not often I get to shoot someone who so utterly deserves it,” he responded. “I literally caught him with his pants down!” “Don't worry about it,” he added, when he saw my uncomfortable expression. “It's just my way of coping. I'll probably throw up later.” The door to the lounge was firmly shut and Mike led us into the kitchen where Susan was standing. She looked shaken but unhurt.
“So stupid,” she was muttering, “so stupid.”
“Don't worry about it,” I said, cautiously putting a hand on her shoulder. When she leaned towards me and started shivering violently, I put my arm round her and held her. “I should never have opened the door to him!” “You know better now,” Mike said. “No real damage done.” “Did you know him?” I asked. “He was one of the pharmaceutical sales reps from work,” she answered. “I always thought he was a bit creepy.” “World’s light one creep,” Mike observed. “He won't be missed.” He thought for a moment, then asked thoughtfully, “What do you do?” We had forgotten that Lizzie was there until she announced, “She's a nurse.” “Practice nurse down at the Church Road medical centre,” she said with a smile to Elizabeth.
“Do you want a job?” Mike asked. Susan and I turned to him in shock and his face told us he was dead serious
“What job?” she managed to ask at last.
“You understand that bad times are coming, don't you?”
She nodded. “Well, I have a couple of military mates. I thought we could provide security and some labour to, say, a small, remote farm,” he grinned at me, “to everyone’s benefit. We could really use a medical officer, though.”
“Any particular small, remote farm you had in mind?” I asked him but, without waiting for an answer, turned to Susan. “Don't let him railroad you. What are your plans?”
“I don't really have any,” she answered. “I can't stay here, not now.” She glanced towards the living room and gave a shudder. My parents live down in London…” “That would be madness!” Mike snapped. “Speaking as a slightly more… balanced observer, I have to agree. It would not be a particularly wise place to go.” “The food will have run out within a week, there'll be cannibalism within two,” Mike snapped. “Gently, Mike,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “You're not doing your cause any good here.” “He's not normally like this,” I explained to her. “He's just wound up after the shooting. He's right, though.”
There was silence for a few seconds then I briefly outlined our plans. I added that, as a practice nurse, she was probably one of the most valuable people around. “Anyone you can't help is probably going to die anyway.”
She was quiet for a moment then, with a sigh, said, “It sounds like the best offer I'm going to get.”
There followed a brief explosion of activity as we packed clothes, medical supplies and every scrap of food in the house together with a few, a very few mementoes. “I'm sorry,” I said as she agonised over a photograph album and a sewing basket her mother had given her. “It's all got to fit in the Landy - all our stuff too." “Take the sewing basket,” Mike said surprisingly. “I can't imagine there'll be clothes shops open for a while.”
"If you take the pictures out of the Albert thingy then they'll fit in the basket,” Emily suggested.
Susan thought about this for a moment then gave the little girl a hug. "Clever girl," she said. "It's the photos that are important, not the album!"
"There is one more thing you could take, if you're willing," Mike said, "but I should stress that this is not your ticket to come with us."
"What's that?" Susan asked suspiciously.
"The key to the supply cupboard at the medical centre."
"But I can't..." Susan replied in horror.
"What's going to happen to those drugs if you don't take them?" I asked her.
She thought for a moment. "They're going to be stolen by some junky looking for their next fix," she admitted. “That is, if they’ve not already gone.”
"If they come with us, you'll have control of them and we'd expect you to give them out to whoever needs them. You'll not take any payment for them," I said. "Agreed, Mike?"
He nodded then added, "Why don't you stick the keys in your pocket and take your time to think about it?" We carried all Susan’s things back to my house in just a couple of trips. I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed but there was too much to do. As Susan made a start on packing up our food, including all Mary's 'what if' supplies, Mike went off to see whether anybody knew anything about Emily’s mother and I set to work on the Landy. Clearly starting the Land Rover would attract an impossible level of attention but how could I hope to repair it without doing so? “Just do your best!” Susan said encouragingly. “Concentrate on the vital bits to get us moving.” By the time Mike returned, two hours later, I had done as much as I could. I had fitted all the replacement parts I had and tested everything I knew how. It would now either run or it wouldn't.
Mike, Susan and I gathered in the kitchen as the girls made a start on packing Elizabeth's things.
“There are some Red Cross people down at a primary school near the town hall,” Mike told us. “They've got a long list of missing people and a much shorter list of known dead. I'm sorry to say that Emily's mother is definitely dead - she died from the smoke and a policeman who was down there recognised her. She was one of their regular customers, apparently; shoplifting and drugs offences, mostly.” “At least it provides some closure for the poor baby,” Susan said. “Would you like me to tell her?” “Thanks, but I better do it,” I replied. “I think Lizzie should be there too. It might help with the whole ‘new family’ thing.” “We should probably eat something first,” Susan suggested. “She won't feel like it later and she's much skinnier than I'd really like.” During the meal, we discussed possible routes out of town. Mike was planning to reconnoitre later.
So after lunch, I took Emily and Elizabeth up to my room - it was the only one in the house that wasn't full of boxes, and the three of us sat on the bed together.
“I’m afraid I've got some horrible news, Emily. There was a terrible fire…”
Two hours later I was woken by Susan tapping gently on the bedroom door. She smiled when she saw that I had been sleeping with a girl in each arm. “Poor poppet,” she said, kissing Emily gently on the head then lying down next to her. “What does the future hold for you?”
“What does the future hold for any of us?” I responded ruefully and we started to share our thoughts and ideas about what we could expect in the next few days and weeks.
We were thinking about the more distant future when I had a thought. “Hang on,” I said, “If you open that bedside drawer, you’ll find Mary’s wedding ring. I think Lizzie might like to have that when she’s older.”
“What a lovely idea,” she said. She retrieved the ring and then found a small photo album and, after asking my permission, started to flick through. They were just simple family snaps but they were special to Mary and me.
“These will fit in the sewing basket too,” she said.
I nodded my thanks. I didn’t trust myself to speak or I’d have burst into tears. Realising that, Susan reached out and took my hand.
“How did you get to know her?” Susan asked.
“Funnily enough, it was at one of Mike’s parties. A colleague had decided he wanted to get inside Laura’s pants…”
“Who’s Laura?”
“Mike’s second in command… enormously capable woman. That chap wouldn’t have known what to do if he’d succeeded. She’d have eaten him alive.” I chuckled briefly at the memory. “Anyway everyone was showing off their party pieces - opening beer bottles with their biceps, one handed pushups, that sort of thing… and the only thing I could do was quote pi to 50 places.”
“Why?” She asked, rolling onto her side to look at me.
“I’m a nerd - it’s the sort of thing we do!”
“Anyway, afterwards, I was nursing my humiliation, embarrassment and a beer bottle in the corner when this girl I had been chatting to earlier came over and… well… eventually she worked out that I’m completely unable to recognise those social clues that everyone else just reads.”
She nodded. I assumed it was just understandingly.
“I think her exact phrase was ‘Oi, Dunderhead, I’m trying to get picked up here!’”
Susan laughed. “In that case,” she knelt up, leaned across Emily and kissed me on the lips. “Oi, Dunderhead,” she said quietly, returning to her side of the bed. “I’m trying to get picked up here! I have been for ages but I sort of assumed you didn’t really like me that much.”
I looked back across at her and laughed. “And I assumed you were being friendly, supportive and just nice… a lovely neighbour.” I thought about it for a long time then rolled onto my side to look into her eyes. “Susan, I have no idea what it means in this crazy world that we’re tumbling into but… well... I think I’d quite like to pick you up.”
We continued staring into each other’s eyes for a long time.
"I've thought about it and I think you're right," she said at last, deliberately changing the subject. "We should take those medical supplies with us. I probably am the best person to look after them.”
The four of us were still lying in bed when Mike returned from his second trip. “So, it's like that, is it?” he said with a twitch of the eyebrows that made me chuckle and Susan blush. “Don't think much of the security here, either. The front door wasn't even locked!”
With a groan, I hauled myself to my feet. While Mike and Susan prepared to raid the Medical Centre, I made a start on packing the Landy.
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Post by garethn on Oct 1, 2018 3:35:12 GMT -6
Chapter 8 - Drive By the light of a single candle, we gathered in the garage the next morning - another ridiculously early start and it was still pitch black outside. The Land Rover was as heavily loaded as I had ever seen it. “Ok, gang,” Mike said, “this is not a car trip, it's a military expedition into enemy territory. Nearly everyone we see will want to steal our car. We don't want it stolen but our own safety is much more important. Clear?”
He looked to Susan and me and we nodded.
“If we have to abandon, you both have rucksacks to grab. You,” he looked to Susan, “take Emily, and you,” me, “take Lizzie. Don't try to stick together; rendezvous at the farm.” We had already given Susan maps and directions. “I will freelance a bit to try and stop people from following us but I'll try to go with Susan.” He looked around again.
“Girls,” he looked to Emily and Lizzie, “I say again, this is not a normal car trip. Make sure you use the toilet now because we will not be stopping. You do not talk unless someone asks you a question and if someone tells you to do something you do it straight away. Is that clear?”
The two girls nodded but they both looked terrified.
“Can I have a moment?” Susan asked.
Mike nodded.
She squatted down so she was at eye level with the two little girls. “Do you understand why Mike is being like this?” she asked.
They shook their heads.
“Ok,” she explained, “there are quite a lot of nasty people out there who might try to take the car away from us. They might even hurt us when they're doing it. Mike was in the army so he knows lots about keeping us safe but if he's going to do that we need to do exactly what we're told. Understand?”
They nodded. They still looked anxious but it was not the wide eyed terror of before.
“Thanks,” Mike gave Susan a smile. “The front windows will be open so hats and gloves on. I want you,” he nodded at me, “riding shotgun. Rifle out of the window and very visible. If I say ‘shoot’ don't bother aiming. You won't hit anything anyway from a moving vehicle. I just want the bang. Everyone clear?”
He looked around the group and met everyone's eye.
“Ok, seat belts,” he said as he climbed into the driver's seat and I opened the garage door. “Let's see if this bad boy will start.”
We held our breath as he turned the key in the lock. There was a slight cough from the engine but it didn't catch.
“That's ok, it does that sometimes,” I said. “Give it a few seconds then try again.”
The wait was insufferable but then Mike tried again… cough… splutter... then it sprang into life. I couldn't resist a small fist pump of celebration and Susan touched my shoulder.
“Let's go,” Mike said and we drove off leaving the home that Mary and I had made together - leaving that part of my life - behind.
I don't know how Mike managed the first part of that drive. The only light came from the fire reflecting off the low clouds. I could just make out people tumbling out of their houses but we were past most of them before they could react. One man jumped into the road in front of us waving both arms. Mike accelerated straight towards him. He jumped backwards, tripping over the kerb. We were past him and away. A small group moved into the road carrying something heavy and Mike shouted “Shoot!” The sound of the gun echoed amongst the houses and again they scrambled back. Whatever they were carrying - maybe it was a dustbin - bounced off the Landy’s front wing. A shot rang out from Mike’s side of the car. “Down!” he shouted. He drew his pistol and loosed a few shots in the general direction of the shooter. I was shocked when Mike threw the car round a corner and sped up the driveway towards a local nature reserve built around two Victorian reservoirs. His plan became clear as he dashed through the gate and started tearing along the path besides the first reservoir. I hardly dared look. The path was narrow and there was a four foot drop to the water on my side. “Hang on,” I shouted. “It's a dead end!” “Not anymore,” Mike answered tersely.
I winced as my poor Landy bounced up some shallow steps from the first to the second reservoir then it was back onto another walkway - this one was not even surfaced! But Mike was starting to relax now and driving slightly more slowly. He even flicked on the sidelights for a few seconds as we passed under some trees. “Is everyone ok?” he asked tersely. “That was cool!” Emily answered from the back.
“Ok, minds back on the game,” he warned us when the nervous laughter had subsided.
He was right about it no longer being a dead end. He had removed a short section of fence and, with some care, managed to emerge from the back of the nature reserve onto a small country lane.
It took us a little time to work our way round to the viewpoint. Though I can read a map, I have trouble doing so when it is pitch black both inside and outside the car! A couple of times we simply had to guess when we got to junctions. Mike was not prepared to stop. From the viewpoint, however, we were able to follow Alice’s route with relative ease.
It was well past dawn as we drove down off the forestry road and into the pasture opposite the farmhouse. As we drove up to the farm, Alice emerged from behind the barn holding her shotgun.
“Eh up,” she said in her customary flat tone, though her eyes hinted at the fact that she was relieved to see us. “You seem to ’av picked up a couple of spares.”
She went back to whatever she was doing in the barn as Angela and Rebecca came out of the house. Rebecca asked our two little girls to come and help her with the chickens while the rest of us trooped into the house. Breakfast, Angela told us, would be ready soon.
Ten minutes later, Rebecca reappeared with my two girls. Emily was carrying a basket of eggs with great care and an even greater sense of wonder. “They came from the chickens,” she explained. “That’s where they normally come from,” Susan informed her, suppressing a smile.
Breakfast was a slightly peculiar meal, as we were trying to use up the contents of three different freezers, but we were all hungry and nobody complained. The girls particularly enjoyed the combination of scrambled eggs and partially defrosted ice cream.
Alice had not turned up to the meal so, after breakfast, I poured her a mug of industrial grade tea and Mike and I went out to the barn where she was spending time with her dogs.
She loved those dogs, openly displaying an affection to them that she rarely showed to people. They responded with a loyalty and obedience that baffled the neighbouring farmers - local custom dictated that you should remain slightly aloof from your working dogs. Alice’s success at the local sheepdog trials suggested that she was probably right and it had got to the stage where she no longer competed; she just stood by the competition ring looking on with a couple of her dogs. For many of the competitors, a nod of approval from Mam was worth as much as any rosette.
I think she just wanted to be on her own but we couldn’t afford her that luxury.
“Mam,” I said to her as I handed her the tea, “Mike wants a word, if that's alright.”
She wrapped her hands round the mug for warmth and gave a brief nod so Mike laid out his plans for providing security. When he had finished Alice was quiet for several seconds then she took a huge swig of tea. “There’s six o’ you and you'll stand by all of ’em?” she checked.
“Mary would have vouched for four of us,” Mike answered. “The other two were trainees down at my shop and I wouldn't have anyone working for me I didn't trust.” Alice nodded slowly then said, “I like the idea but can't see how as it'll work wi’ sleepin’. We're pretty much packed in as it is… You’re goin’ to ’ave to sleep in ’ere.”
“I’ve slept in much worse places,” he assured her with a smile.
“How are we going to go about collecting James and the others?” I asked Mike as we gathered in the front room later that evening after tea. It had been another peculiar meal but, again, nobody was left hungry. Across at a small table, Rebecca was playing a noisy card game with Emily and Lizzie. Susan was still in the kitchen with Angela, trying to get some sort of order to the food supplies that had been piled into every available corner. Alice was out with her dogs again.
“I've been giving it some thought,” Mike answered. “We need to collect all that kit but if we take the Landy anywhere near town we’ll be lucky to get away with our lives let alone keep it!” “So what do we do?” “I think our best bet is to park up close to town and schlep the stuff out on our backs. It's a bit of work but it’s the safest.” “Where do we leave the Landy?” “I've not worked that one out yet.” “How about that concrete pipe under the ring road?” I suggested. “Good idea,” Mike said. “If we…” We were disturbed as the card game broke up somewhat acrimoniously and I was surprised, though not unpleasantly so, when Emily came and climbed onto my knee. I cuddled her to me and kissed her on the top of her head. “If we roll the Landy down the hill nobody will even know it's there,” Mike tried again. “Particularly if we get it done before first light.”
A few minutes later Susan came in from the kitchen. When she saw Emily dozing on my knee she came over and gave her a kiss on the head. The peck she gave me on the cheek was a pleasant surprise. “Another early start, then?” I asked Mike to cover up my embarrassment. “Unless you two are planning a late night!” he said with a teasing grin that earned him a playful slap from Susan.
“I'd better get these girls to bed,” I said, pointedly ignoring him. “Come on, Lizzy, I'm sure there are plenty of chores to keep you busy tomorrow.”
Leaving Mike to explain our plans to the others, we went upstairs. A bed had been made up for the girls on the floor of my room and, as Emily was still a bit tearful, I lay down with them until they dropped off to sleep.
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Post by gipsy on Oct 1, 2018 8:41:16 GMT -6
What a fine start
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Post by 9idrr on Oct 1, 2018 17:16:21 GMT -6
You're doin' a good job of developing this story. Thanks for keeping up with it.
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Post by texican on Oct 1, 2018 17:32:44 GMT -6
G,
Hooked on another one....
Thanks for the 8 chapters....
Now, another 8 chapters would fit is nicely and be devoured eagerly by the Moar Hounds....
Texican....
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Post by sniper69 on Oct 1, 2018 17:35:37 GMT -6
I enjoyed reading what has been posted so far, This is a great start to a fine story!
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Post by kaijafon on Oct 1, 2018 20:48:29 GMT -6
ok, I'm really loving this story! thanks so much!
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Post by garethn on Oct 2, 2018 2:50:46 GMT -6
It’s all pretty much written now - just half a dozen TODOs and a final review.
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Post by texican on Oct 2, 2018 13:47:06 GMT -6
It’s all pretty much written now - just half a dozen TODOs and a final review. G, The Moar Hounds are waiting with baited breath.... Thanks.... Texican....
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Post by garethn on Oct 4, 2018 3:14:48 GMT -6
Chapter 9 - Back To Mike's
Next thing I knew, I was being woken by Susan in the pre-dawn darkness with a cup of tea and a kiss; I felt better and more refreshed than I had since ‘the day’. “I could get used to this,” I teased her. “Just make sure you come back safe!” she said. “I mean, these two girls are lovely but I didn't have any plans on becoming a single mother just yet!” The trip back to Amberford was much less stressful than the drive to the farm. Mike knew the way and was not forced to rely on my map reading skills. I say again, I can read a map. I just have difficulty when both the map and the landscape outside are pitch black! We made good time and it was only just light as Mike rolled the Landy down the path towards the ring road. There was a shallow bay where we could get it down into the stream bed and I only had to push because Mike wanted to reverse the Landy into the culvert for a quicker getaway. “We should be there in time for breakfast,” Mike commented as we walked down the path towards town. Jimbo was on sentry duty on the garage roof and waved down as we approached. He seemed to be even more vigilant than Samson had been. We hurried inside and I immediately noted an absence. “Where's James?” I demanded. "He's out on patrol with Laura." Samson answered as he poured us out mugs of tea. "Don't worry about that!" Mike smiled when he saw my expression. “Laura's been taking care of new recruits for more years than she'd thank me for mentioning. She's not going to let anything happen to him." "But he's too young." "I've had much younger kids shooting at me." “Yeh… but…” I began but trailed off. I didn't quite know what to say. That had been in some third world hell hole - but it was probably a paragon of order and civilisation compared to what our little corner of the world was quickly slipping into. I dutifully drank the tea and ate the porridge that was thrust in my direction but I was nervously pacing the floor by the time James returned. I could immediately sense something different about him as he walked through the door. He looked older, taller... maybe he was just standing a little straighter. He was dressed in camouflaged military clothes and his overlong hair was tamed by a camouflaged cap. His eyes seemed to flicker around the room, taking everything in but he visibly relaxed when he saw me.
"How's Lizzie?" he asked and hurried over to give me a huge hug,
"She’s fine,” I assured him. "I'm afraid there’s some bad news, though."
His face dropped.
"Your Grandfather has been killed."
He stood unmoving for a few seconds as his face turned pale then he fled from the room.
I started to follow him but Laura put a hand on my arm. "It might be easier on him if you let me deal with this," she said. "I'm less personally involved."
I hesitated for a moment then nodded. She went over to where James was sitting on the stairs.
"Hey, soldier," she said. He tried to look away but she sat down next to him and put an arm round his shoulders. "There's nothing to be ashamed of in shedding a tear for your Grandad," she began as she pushed the door closed with her foot.
I felt very left out.
The living room was completely packed with equipment from the shop and it was immediately clear that we were never going to be able to move it all with just one trip in the Landy. Mike and I were having a look when Laura reappeared.
“Jamie’s gone for a lie down,” she told me. “We were up at sparrows and, with the shock, it's probably for the best.”
I nodded.
“Sitrep, please,” Mike said to her, handing her a cup of tea.
“Two big gangs out there,” she told him. “One based down at the Priory Fields, the other up at Crofton. They're holding a couple of the smaller supermarkets each and have a running war going on over the big one. They've had a huge influx of members since ‘the day’, of course, with most of the newbies being treated as cannon fodder and slaves.
“I guess about quarter of the people have left town and the rest are starting to run seriously short of food. Cats and dogs have started to disappear.”
“Any immediate threats?” Mike asked.
“The Crofton lot have been expanding in this direction, raiding anything that looks halfway worthwhile. That'll certainly include us. The neighbours will have seen us bringing this stuff in and will sell us out for food.”
“What's their long term game plan?”
“I don't know but the leadership don't strike me as stupid. Presumably they're gathering resources now and will make a break for it at some stage, dumping most of the plebs and keeping their core army. It's what I'd do.”
“You're not supposed to admit that,” Mike muttered but his mind wasn’t on it.
She gave a shrug.
“OK, listen up, folks,” he called out to the others. “We’ve got ourselves a place to hole up…” In a few words he laid out the plan to the others.
“That’ll be three trips in the Landy, won’t it?” Mike asked, looking at the piles.
Laura answered with a nod.
“I take it you've got it prioritised.” She gave him a look that told him not to ask stupid questions.
“Ok, we should manage two trips back to the farm tonight but that'll mean some serious hauling - six loads each, at least. You lot lie low tomorrow but with continuous patrols looking for the attack. If it comes, you'll have to foxtrot oscar with as much as you can schlep on your backs.”
The day passed slowly. I had had a good night’s sleep so I wasn't able to doze like most of the others. Laura spent a couple of hours running her four new recruits - that was James and me plus Kat and Gary from the shop - through the formations that would be used in the night. We were just going to be used as pack-horses so the knowledge was to avoid stumbling into our own lines of fire - a good incentive to pay attention! As darkness fell, I was, of course, starting to get tired but there was nothing for it but to mule up.
I've been a long term convert to the principles of lightweight backpacking so it was a shock for me to hoist 65lbs up onto my back. I couldn’t really complain, though; Samson was carrying almost twice that much and he was expected to maneuver.
We set off down the road, trying to maintain absolute silence so as to keep our activity secret from the neighbours. It was a clear night and there was a thin, watery moon low on the horizon so it was not completely dark as we stumbled down the track and across the ford.
We struggled into the culvert and then had a brief experience of floating as we unloaded the packs. Laura took them out of our hands and set about packing them by touch in the black of the tunnel.
Back to the house then load up again. The pack seemed heavier than the first time and there were less of us carrying because Laura had stayed to guard the Landy.
Another trip and I had to warn Mike that people - particularly James and Kat - were getting tired and were going to start having accidents soon. He agreed, though he hated the inevitable delay, and ordered them to skip a round.
We filled the Landy in one more trip and then took a long break - with a very welcome cup of Jimbo’s industrial grade tea - as Mike drove the first load away and then it was back to the grind - though now we could take things a little more gently - there wasn't the overwhelming pressure to get the Landy moving. Laura had wedged a couple of planks across the culvert pipe so we had somewhere dry to stack the incoming packs.
We had finished the third load by the time the Landy came rolling down the track in the watery, pre-dawn light. We had slightly underestimated the load that the Landy could shift and Mike made a spur-of-the-moment decision to take James and Catherine back to the farm. Gary stayed because he was stronger and able to keep up.
We made a provisional rendezvous for two hours after dusk halfway down the track with the option of yomping back to the farm if things went wrong. We were all acutely aware of the danger of the impending attack. Mike stressed several times that the remaining supplies were not worth significant risk to ourselves or to the Landy.
Laura led us back to the house by a slightly circuitous route which avoided the house-lined road where we would certainly have been seen. This was the route they had been using when they went out on patrol.
From the drainage channel we went up through some scrubby wasteland at the side of the ring road where it went through a shallow cutting. As I looked down on the roadway I could see an articulated lorry that had been broken into. In my sleep deprived and exhausted state it irritated me that some of its load had been scattered wastefully about by people looking for food. It was only after several minutes that it occurred to me that there must be thousands of lorries like this, full of food, scattered across the countryside just waiting for someone with, say, a functioning Landy, to collect.
My biggest source of pride was not in having the idea but in staying compos mentis for long enough after we returned to explain it to Laura before I collapsed.
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Post by garethn on Oct 4, 2018 3:18:44 GMT -6
10 Exit
I don’t know what time it was when Laura woke me. I never seemed to be getting enough sleep but this was ridiculous.
“They're coming,” Laura was saying in a calm but urgent voice. “We need to get moving now.”
She allowed me about two seconds to get my head in gear before bodily hauling me out of my sleeping bag and thrusting my boots into my hands.
“Moving now!” she repeated as she started stuffing my lightweight sleeping bag into a tiny daysack that Mike described as a go-bag. If you have to drop everything else you had to keep this. You'd probably get back to the farm without it but you'd be much less comfortable.
"Double knot!" she commanded as I struggled to tie my boots. "Assume we're going into combat."
Jimbo was already leaving the house as I came down the stairs. "Take care out there," Laura said to him as he went.
"Diversion," she told me in response to my unasked question.
A huge pack was thrust towards me - heavier by far than anything I'd shifted the previous night - but it looked pathetic at the side of the ones the others were hoisting up.
"Check!" Laura said, having a quick look around herself. "Anything we leave behind is gone."
There was a camouflaged duffle that had been left in one corner of the kitchen and, as I was the only person not carrying a weapon, it was thrust into my hands. It was full of tins and I staggered under the extra weight.
"Moving out, now," Laura called at the sound of activity from the front of the house. "Back door, down to the fence."
Following Samson, I ran - I don't know how I did it with the weight but I did - down the garden. I paused in front of the fence. It seemed an insurmountable obstacle.
With a negligent ease, Samson lifted me by my rucksack and swung me over the fence. As I was flying through the air I saw someone coming round the corner of the house. It was a young man who looked like he might of been a trainee accountant a week ago. He was carrying what can only be described as a club.
With a balletic elegance Laura twirled towards him giving him what looked like the gentlest of taps on the side of the head with one of her combat boots.
He crumpled to the ground like a sack of rocks.
Samson put me back on my feet and I stumbled down the steep slope into the neighbour’s garden.
Another attacker appeared round the side of the house. This one would not have looked out of place at a local football club. He gave a shout as he saw Laura hurdling the fence and more attackers started to appear.
Suddenly the relative calm of the morning was shattered by a single shot. For a few seconds there was silence then... pandemonium.
A fusillade of shots from handguns echoed around the front of the house spiced by an occasional shotgun blast. As I followed Samson at a flat sprint across the neighbour’s lawn, I could see him shaking his head. Even I knew that Jimbo would not have taken his shot from anywhere he could be hit by either shotguns or handguns.
Somebody round the front presumably saw it that way too because, as we emerged onto the elegant suburban avenue at the front of the neighbour’s house, the shooting tapered off with a series of increasingly angry shouts.
For a couple of minutes there was silence broken by the occasional shout then there was another single shot. This time the fusillade was brought to an end more quickly.
As we started to put distance between ourselves and the guns, the kick of adrenalin that had kept me going started to give out. "I can't keep up," I panted as they waited for me at the driveway to a particularly elegant house. "I've got to dump this."
The duffle was whipped from my hands and strapped to the top of Samson's already preposterously heavy Bergen.
"I'm sorry..." I began but was silenced by a quick word from Laura. The rebuke, such as it was, was for unnecessary talk not for failing to manage the load. Then she led us down the driveway past the house at a steady jog. It was a clear, chilly morning, but I was already bathed in sweat.
Crawl through a hedge... down through some scrubby bushes... another fence… then across the railway line... a wire mesh fence had already had a flap prepared - just waiting to be peeled back to let us through. Samson, who was running rear guard, carefully closed it behind us.
Scramble up the steep bank that led to the playing fields belonging to a prestigious private school. We stayed just below the top and worked our way along to the high wall at one end. We followed this to the sports pavilion where a back window had already been forced open. Laura climbed through, then opened the main doors to let the rest of us in.
There was a high class reception room upstairs with a fine view over the sports fields and the town beyond it. Presumably it was intended for impressing potential parents and donors. We gathered at the end away from the windows and I collapsed onto the carpeted floor.
A few minutes later I was hauled into a sitting position by Laura who insisted I have something to eat and drink before I fell asleep. "You need to keep your energy up," she instructed me. "We don't know when we'll have to run again."
I groaned at the thought but started chomping on the cereal bar she put in my hands. Samson was sitting close by me, setting up a small stove on an elegant, glass and chrome table. I apologised to him for dumping the extra weight on him.
"You done right," he answered. "You did what you could then said when you couldn't do no more."
"You did OK," Laura agreed. "You kept moving and thinking in contact. But no unnecessary talking next time."
A slightly awkward silence was broken by Gary appearing with a couple of tins of expensive-looking biscuits.
"You're supposed to be on patrol," Laura cautioned him.
"Had to check there was nobody hiding in the little kitchen back here," he answered with flagrant dishonesty. "There's a good stash of tea, coffee and sugar back here, too." He was quick enough with the "back on it!" however, in response to her disapproving look. He grabbed a handful of the biscuits and headed for the door.
"Oh, there’s a vending machine with them posh energy bars and drinks downstairs," he added as he made his way out of the room. “If you can find the store cupboard where the spares are kept..."
"I'm on it," I said hauling myself to my feet. Hunting for a store cupboard was something I could do as well as the rest of then.
The store cupboard was a treasure trove - there were not just the half dozen boxes of energy bars but rolls of toilet paper. As Samson pointed out, "You don't notice it when it's there but you miss it when it’s not." There was also a surprisingly well equipped first aid room.
I piled the additional supplies at the back of the reception room before collapsing into a deep sleep.
I was woken several hours later by the sound of Jimbo's return. "If it's not sleeping beauty!" Samson commented as I hauled myself into a sitting position.
"So, what happened out there?" Laura was asking Jimbo.
"Oh, this and that," he answered with a broad smile. He took a swig of the tea that had been thrust into his hands.
"Come on, from the beginning!" Laura said. It wasn't a request.
"It was definitely the Crofton gang. They were coming out from that side so I wandered down the road a couple of houses then hopped up onto a garage roof. They came straight up to our house - they knew where they were going - and gathered in front of the place.
"There's definitely two classes of them out there. The one lot, I suppose you'd call them the officers, have got red scarves tied around their right arms. They seem to be the only ones with real weapons. I mean, a lot of the others have knives and things but they're the only ones I saw with guns.
“There was a shed load of the normal guys - the ones without anything on their arms - hanging around in front of the house. I guess they weren't expecting anyone to shoot back because nobody seemed to be thinking about any sort of cover.
"Anyway, there were half a dozen of the red sleeves gathered around a map at the back of the gang. They were obviously in charge because they started to order the cannon fodder to surround the house."
"We spotted that," Samson observed. "So, who did you shoot?"
"I didn't shoot anyone," Jimbo answered. "I just wanted to warn them off. I didn't want to start any sort of feud, if I could avoid it."
"Good thinking," Laura commented. "So, what did you do?"
"I put a hole in their map then rolled off the back of the garage. I was in the next garden before they started shooting back. I decided to go the direction they were coming from 'cos they wouldn't expect that. Went through a couple more gardens then found a nice, solid wall on the other side of 'em. They still hadn't quite finished shooting at where I had been by the time I got there!"
He gave a chuckle and took another long drink of his tea.
"After a couple of minutes they seemed to get a grip on things and got their guys moving again - they were being a bit more careful now, though."
"Anyway one of them - a red sleeve - enormous chap - makes you look puny, Samson - anyway, he wanders up to the front door with a dirty great sledge hammer. He starts doing all this warming up and practice swings and so on... getting himself ready... then he winds himself up for a really big whack."
He took another pull of tea and nearly snorted it out of his nose.
"Oh, get on with it!" Laura burst out in exasperation.
"So I shoot it out of his hands!" he managed at last before he collapsed in laughter.
"I don’t know whether I could really shoot it out of his hands," he managed to say at last. "But he dropped it quick enough when a bullet bounced off the hammerhead! Last thing I saw before I got my ass out of there was that he had wet himself!"
"I thought you didn't want to start a feud," Laura commented trying, with only limited success, to keep a straight face. "I suspect you've made yourself an enemy for life!"
"Why d’you take so long to get back?" Samson managed to ask at last.
"As there were so many of them down our way, I thought I'd stroll up and have a look what they're up to over there in Crofton"
"Jimbo!" Laura exploded. "You've been told about winging it before!"
"Yeh, I know, but it was too good a chance to miss when they were all up at our place."
"Ok," Laura said. She wasn't happy but was letting it slide this time. "What did you find?"
"They're grabbing pretty much anything they can get their hands on and are stockpiling it in that supermarket up on London Road. They've got a reasonably effective watch going front and back. You're not going to get in through the doors."
He waited a moment - deliberately building the tension.
"They don't do a lot of looking up, though."
"You didn't go in, did you?"
"Through the DIY store car park, over the fence, used some piping to get up onto the roof then into a staff canteen through a skylight..."
"Jimbo!"
"There was nobody at all in there. They were all outside. I guess the big bosses don't trust their minions to go running round inside the sweet shop!"
"Ok, what did you swipe?"
"Chuck my rucksack over, will you, and that sports bag?"
I walked across and nearly gave myself an injury trying to pick them up. I managed to lift them at the second attempt but only with difficulty. I lugged them across to the rest of the group, muttering a few choice words. Jimbo opened the rucksack and started hauling out boxes of ammunition.
"Is that 556?" Laura exploded. "Where on earth did they get that?"
"Dunno... didn't feel like hanging around long enough to ask anyone. I grabbed all the 556 I could find and filled up with 19. That's not the best bit, though. He opened the sports bag and carefully took out a rifle with an extra long barrel. “Meet my new best friend,” he said.
“An LSW!”
“The SA-80 L86A2 Light Support Weapon,” Jimbo said with evident pride.
“So much for not making this into a feud,” Laura said. “Mind you, you've probably neutralised them as an effective fighting force. We’d better give some thought as to how we’re going to get out of here tonight because I can guarantee they'll be looking for us and they’ll be very, very unhappy.”
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Post by garethn on Oct 4, 2018 3:20:32 GMT -6
11 Evasion
Laura had her boys sweeping the planned exit route through the late afternoon and they confirmed that the area was swarming with red-sleeves. They were, however, sticking mainly to the roads. “They still thinkin’ like city boys!” Samson observed. “They don't think ‘bout going through no gardens!”
In the end, we decided to stash some of the kit above the ceiling panels in the reception room. It was low priority stuff, things like spare boots, extra sleeping bags and some of the toilet paper. As the packs were made up, I noticed I was given a disposable one while the others had the critical ammunition, food and first aid supplies. I tried to heave it on as darkness fell but struggled because it was impossibly heavy. “I'm starting to know what a pack horse feels like!” I grumbled as Samson helped me on with it. “Quiet now,” Laura said firmly. “Heads on. We’ve a real danger of contact here.”
A steady drizzle had started as we made our way back across the playing fields then down the now slippery slope to the railway line. Then we began a steady trudge along the line through the worsening rain with the weight of the pack crushing my back.
I looked back on that trudge as a happy memory, however, when we came to the first raised section of track. Down and belly crawl through the muck and water. I was encouraged to stay low and silent first by the warning kicks from Laura and later from the sound of people - presumably red sleeves - moving around on the roads below us.
The crawl along the tracks seemed interminable. The rain was falling steadily now, soaking into my clothes and leaking in at my neck and ankles. I had to fight to push the discomfort to the back of my mind. ‘It's better than being shot!’ I had to keep reminding myself.
At last we reached the bridge by the ford. Now we had to climb down the embankment. Absolute silence was required because we had just seen red sleeves moving about on the track on the other side of the bridge. There was no path and the grass and mud were made slippery by the rain. Samson had to steady me on a couple of occasions as I struggled down. At last we made it down to the track.
The few hundred yards to the ford were relative luxury, as the track was shaded by trees here, and we did not have to worry about being seen. We were, however, in almost complete darkness and each time I planted a foot I had to do so entirely by feel.
I felt water under my feet. We had reached the ford. There was no point in trying to keep my feet dry as we crossed. ‘Suck it up,’ Samson’s looming shadow in front of me seemed to say.
Out of the ford and back along the track besides the stream. It was a tiny bit lighter here and I was starting to relax when the slightest of hisses - barely a loud breath - alerted us all. Jimbo, at point, had spotted someone coming.
Instantly Samson and Laura grabbed me and propelled me down into the stream bed where they held me in a low squat as the water swirled around my waist.
Samson released me and slowly, silently, he brought the rifle he was carrying up into position. I watched, frozen, and held my breath as he tracked a party of red sleeves as they made their way along the track above us
Then they were past us and we could carry on along the stream bed though we stayed in a low squat and the discomfort of wet legs was soon overwhelmed by the burning pain in my thighs.
At long, long last we reached the culvert and I could stand almost upright and stretch out my legs. I felt myself breathing a touch more easily. We were nearly there.
Then the silence of the night was shattered by a scream from just in front of us. For a moment I stood, stupid and bewildered, as action exploded around me.
Laura grabbed me by the arm and hurried me along the culvert. As we reached the platform she had constructed the night before, I could see what had happened. There was a young family huddled, terrified, at the back. They had been sheltering in the dark and Jimbo must have almost stepped on them.
"Stay here," Laura snapped at them. "The red sleeves are after us. There may be shooting."
Laura hauled me along the culvert and out the other side, running almost backwards as she emerged, scanning the road above us. There was nobody there but we could hear shouting from the right.
"Go," she shouted at me, but I was distracted by the sound of a shot from the other side of the road. She spun me round so she was staring me in the face.
"You go and intercept Mike. Get the Landy turned round. We’ll slow them then follow you."
An extra duffle was thrust into my arms and I found myself running up the track as the sound of shouts and the occasional shot broke the silence of the night.
On and on I ran and, as the immediacy of the firefight faded behind me, I became more aware of the weight of the load and my state of exhaustion.
Force myself to keep running... lives depend on it… stumble, trip... press on... keep going... trip and fall… get up... keep going… weeping with desperation and exhaustion… do not stop... must not stop.
A darker shadow emerged out of the blackness ahead of me and I stumbled onto the front of the Landy that was bumping down the track with, as ever, no lights. Gasping for breath, I explained the situation, though, from his expression, Mike was learning as much from the sounds below as from my broken explanation.
He threw me into the back of the Landy and spun it round. He then reversed it - and he must have been effectively blind - until we were just round the corner from what now sounded like a full scale war down by the road.
Mike jumped out of the cab, ran a few yards round the corner and shouted to Laura who was just appearing. She was walking backwards, sticking mostly to the low bushes at the side of the track, and occasionally loosing shots towards unseen attackers.
Mike sprinted back with a shout of “they're coming, get ready!” and jumped into the cab. I managed to open the tailgate. I was surprised when he started the engine - presumably he considered the small chance of it being heard was less than the risk that it would not start first time.
Gary came running up and hurriedly climbed into the back of the Landy. The snap of pistols grew louder, echoing around the little valley and punctuated by the occasional louder bark of rifles. We stared out into the confusing blackness which was illuminated by occasional staggeringly bright flashes.
Suddenly Samson appeared. He literally jumped into the van, knocking me to one side as he spun round. He threw himself flat and took up a firing position. "Stay down!" he snapped as I started to pull myself back up. I flattened myself on the bed of the Landy.
Laura was next. She went to the cab and took a firing position with the passenger side door open and one knee on the seat. Her left arm was twisted in the seat belt.
“Jimbo's running a diversion!" she shouted. "We may have to go without him."
"On your call, Samson!" Mike shouted.
Then Jimbo appeared round the corner at a flat sprint. "Ready!" Samson called. "Ten seconds."
Samson's rifle barked, sounding incredibly loud in the back of the Landy. "Five," he called as Jimbo drew closer. I saw movement behind him and Samson fired again. The figure collapsed.
"Go!" Samson called as Jimbo reached us. I grabbed him and hauled him into the Landy as it accelerated up the bumpy track. Samson fired twice more but I had the impression that it was more to discourage pursuit than with any intention of hitting anyone.
There were a couple of shots from handguns - now hopelessly out of range - and we were away.
"Everyone ok?" Laura asked from the front.
"Think so," Samson said, shedding his enormous pack and coming over to kneel next to me.
"Hey what are you doing?" I called as he started feeling along my arms and legs in the dark
"Checking whether you've been shot."
"I think I'd know if I'd been shot."
"You'd think so but you might not. Adrenaline can do funny things."
Then I started trembling violently. Samson picked me up by the back of my jacket and hauled me round so that my head was hanging over the Landy's tailgate. "If you're going to chuck, you can do it outside," he said, surprisingly sympathetically, as he put an enormous arm round my shoulders. While not exactly a stereotypical nurse, he was the best that was available.
In the end I wasn't sick but it took about ten minutes for the shaking to subside. I was feeling light headed but much better by the time the Landy reached the turnoff that led to the farm.
Though only lit by a fire and a couple of candles, the farm looked bright and warm as we drove up. As we pulled to a stop, I saw two little heads watching through the kitchen window and couldn't wait any longer. I jumped out and ran to my, now two, little girls who were waiting for me just inside the kitchen door. I grabbed them in a tight hug.
"You're all wet!" Elizabeth complained.
"It's raining out there," James told her as he came over and joined in the hug. "Is everyone OK?"
"Everyone's fine," I answered, standing up and stretching my back. "It got a bit hairy out there at times but no one was hurt."
Susan was hovering slightly back but, as I released the others, she came over and grabbed me. "Sorry," she said, "I need a hug too!"
She held me for a few seconds then let me go. “Pwar!" she said to the girls, "you warned me he was wet but not that he's so smelly!"
The girls, who had already been giggling about the fact that I had been hugging Susan, collapsed in laughter at this.
"I better get these two trouble makers off to bed," Susan said, giving me a final peck on the cheek. We were just waiting up for you. "You can think about organising a bath."
"I dare say there are a couple as'll be needing baths after being out in this, Alice said as she came bustling into the kitchen. "It'll just be the tin tub by the stove, here, mind you. I'll go and get it."
"Tell James where it is and he'll fetch it," I told her. "That’s what teenagers are for, isn't it?"
James stuck his tongue out at me but hurried to do as he was asked.
"You must be Mary's mother," Samson said as he loomed into the room, dodging round the low beams. "It's an honour to meet you, Ma’am."
Alice, who was preparing pans of water to heat on the stove, turned at the slightly formal greeting and stood, perhaps, a little straighter. "Thank you, young man," she said. "And what’s thy name?"
“The names Samuel, Ma’am, though people mostly call me Samson.”
“I can see as how they might,” she told him, honouring him with one of her rare wry smiles. “That must make you Delilah,” she said to Laura as she followed him in, though I could tell her heart wasn't in it.
“Laura, Ma'am,” she responded with a smile.
An hour later we were all washed and had found clean clothes. To soothe Alice's sensitivities we had all turned our backs as Laura bathed and there was the slight challenge that Samson would simply not fit in the tin bath. He had to stand up as we poured jugs of warm water over him. We washed our underclothes through in the lukewarm bath water and hung them up under the porch to drip dry.
Then we attacked a huge lamb casserole that Alice had bubbling away on the back of the stove. The collection of vegetables in it - the remains from the three freezers - was slightly strange but the solid dumplings floating in it ensured that nobody left the table hungry.
During the meal, we gave a full account of the last day and Jimbo showed off his 'new best friend' with the greatest of pride. Then the troops were on their way out to the barn and, though I heard some talk of unpacking kit to check for water damage, I was just too tired to help.
I went up to the room I was sharing with the girls and was only mildly surprised to see that Susan had fallen asleep on my bed. The terrible twosome were on a mattress on the floor. As I slipped Emily into bed with Susan, I couldn't resist giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
The smile she gave me when she briefly opened her eyes put me to sleep with very happy thoughts.
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Post by texican on Oct 4, 2018 14:24:48 GMT -6
G,
Thanks for the three chapters....
Now the Alice farm group need to setup defensive positions....
Did they acquire some explosives or better yet claymores?.?.?.?
The Crofton group will have to be dealt with at their location....
Now Jimbo's SA-80 L86A2 Light Support Weapon just may even out the odds when used....
Texican....
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Post by papaof2 on Oct 4, 2018 14:43:18 GMT -6
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Post by texican on Oct 4, 2018 18:03:41 GMT -6
Thanks PP2 for the link.... Nice weapon.... Jimbo will be able to reach and touch.... Texican....
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Post by freebirde on Oct 4, 2018 21:18:13 GMT -6
First glance looks like a M 16 that was reworked as a bull pup. Probably a lot of internal improvements. Personally, I like a bull pup for confined space and urban settings.
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Post by garethn on Oct 5, 2018 3:19:31 GMT -6
Given the restrictions on rifle ownership in the UK, I think it is the most likely to be ‘acquired’ - fallen off the back of a military lorry etc.
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Post by garethn on Oct 5, 2018 3:51:41 GMT -6
Part 2
Chapter 1 - Wake up
For the first time since ‘the day’ I was able to sleep until I could sleep no more. Susan had managed to get the girls out without waking me and I was left to just sleep.
When, at last, I woke, I wandered downstairs to find the house unusually quiet. The two Es were doing some school type work with Susan in the living room and I strolled over to give all three good morning kisses.
I went into the kitchen to investigate the tea situation. The pot from breakfast was normally filled with boiling water and left to stew on the back of the stove for anyone brave enough to help themselves.
As I stumbled across the kitchen towards the stove I noticed that James and Rebecca were sitting rather close together at the table. I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything if it hadn’t been for the guilty manner in which they leapt apart when I walked in. I pretended not to notice and gave them a cheery "mornin'!" as I poured myself a mug - or, closer, a slice - of the extraordinary tea then went back to join the girls in the living room where I collapsed on the sofa.
I sat quietly for a few minutes. Though I was glad of the first rest I had had in days, I couldn't help feeling that important time was wasting. At last I reached a decision.
"Susan," I said, "can I borrow you for a moment?"
She spoke briefly to the two girls then came over to join me at the sofa. "What's up?" she asked with a smile.
"I think we need to do some planning for the group for the next couple of weeks,” I answered, “and you’re the best person to think about hygiene and medical stuff."
"That sort of makes sense..." she answered hesitantly, "but I'm not really sure what you want from me."
"I suppose the question I want you to answer is, 'What medical problems are we going to hit and how do we deal with them… or, even better, stop them happening?' How do we stop the outbreak of Yellow Fever from wiping us out? James has put an axe in his foot or Emily has measles. What are we going to do? Are there any extra supplies that we should be looking out for?"
"Yellow Fever is one of the few things that is not going to be a problem!” she answered with a smile. “It’s a tropical disease.”
“I knew that really,” I told her.
“But cholera and dysentery are a serious threat, particularly if people are close to starvation. In fact…”
She was quiet for a moment.
“In fact, unless help gets here soon, those water-borne diseases are going to end up killing a lot more people than anything else. We really need to be sure about where our water is coming from - and start boiling it, if necessary.”
“OK, you see the sort of thing I’m looking for?”
She nodded.
“I need to have the same sort of chat with Alice about farm stuff,” I said. “Do you know where she is?”
“I haven’t seen her since last night and… I don’t know whether it’s my place to say…”
“Oh just get on with it!”
“OK, I’m a bit worried about her. She’s eating next to nothing - just drinking that toxic tea of hers.”
I nodded then took another swig and winced.
“One more problem!” I answered. “I guess I’ll have to talk to her. That’s going to be a bundle of laughs.”
“Do you want me to do it?”
“She certainly won’t talk to you,” I answered. “You’re not ‘family’ yet…”
“That’s sounds like a proposition!” she interrupted with a smile.
I responded with a smile of my own but went on, “She won’t want to talk to me either but I might be able to bully her into it!”
I looked out of the kitchen window. The rain was coming down in horizontal sheets, as it occasionally does in this part of the world. There was a movement over in the storage shed so I put on my raincoat and some wellies before hurrying across.
There was no sign of Alice but Angela was there, doing something with the chicken feed.
"Hi there!" I said. "Have you seen Alice?"
"No," she answered in a tone that betrayed her irritation. "She went off this morning and I haven't seen her since."
"Do you know where she's gone?"
"She was saying something about checking for stray sheep on the tops."
"On her own... in this weather..." I was about to go on but I could see Angela was starting to get upset. "What's up?" I asked her.
"She didn't even tell me what I'm supposed to be doing," she answered. "I mean, we've done the basic chores but there's so much we need to be getting on with, I just don't know where to start."
I thought for a moment. "After what she's been through, I wish we could cut her some slack," I said sympathetically, "but we just need her too much. I'll have a talk with her."
"Would you? She might listen to you."
"Oh, she'll listen OK. She won't like what she hears but she'll listen."
"If you've nothing else to do, you might want to work out where we stand with the food," I suggested. "We need to do some planning and it would help if we knew how long 'til we run out."
"Good idea!" she answered. “I’ll finish off here and get on with it.”
"Get James and Rebecca to give you a hand," I suggested. "They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company far too much when I came down this morning!"
"We can't have that!" she answered with a smile.
I glanced out of the barn door and saw that the rain had slackened off to merely heavy. "I'm going to wander across to the barn to have a chat with Mike," I told her. "See you later."
I pulled up my hood and adjusted the weather-proofing flaps on the front of my jacket then hurried across the yard to the barn.
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Post by garethn on Oct 5, 2018 3:52:16 GMT -6
Chapter 2 - Meeting with Mike and Laura
I hurried into the barn and was surprised to see that the team had stacked bales of hay and pulled a tarpaulin over them to make a smaller room in the middle. The equipment and stores that normally just lay about the place had been stacked neatly to the side.
“Knock, knock!” I said as I approached the tarp-covered gap in the bales that served as a door.
“Come on in!” Laura replied.
As I pushed aside the tarp and walked in, the scene I encountered was surprisingly comfortable. The large number of bodies in the small space were keeping it reasonably warm and people were sitting on hay bales. Laura was showing Kat how to hold one of the pistols and, across the room, Jimbo was admiring his new rifle. If challenged, he'd have claimed he was inspecting it but in fact he was just admiring it.
Samson was dry shaving himself with that huge knife he was in the habit of carrying. I flinched at the sight - how sharp was it? At least that explained how, in a world where men were becoming increasingly fuzzy, he was managing to keep his head looking like a billiard ball!
"Hi there!" Laura said as I walked in. "What's up?"
"Is Mike about?"
"He's out on patrol with Gary," she answered. "He should be back soon. Can I help?”
"I’m trying to get a feel for where we stand and what we need to do from here…" I told her. "What we've got... what we need… how to get it…"
Laura reached over her head and passed me a clipboard with a sheaf of papers attached. "This might help," she said.
I started skimming the pages; it was a list of the supplies that we had brought with us. "That looks like a great starting point," I said. "How many man-days of food?"
"About three hundred, full combat calories."
"About six weeks then," I mumbled. "Probably the same up at the farm... and we should be able to double that by stretching things with sheep and eggs and so on... six to nine months and we'll be starving."
"Unless somebody decides they want to take it off us," Samson observed from across the room.
"Or we gain any extra members..." I countered. "Whichever way you slice it, it's not going to be enough."
I sat down on a bail and started to look through the notes in more detail as I waited for Mike to return. “One thing we don’t have to worry about is ammunition,” I commented when I saw the numbers which had received a significant boost thanks to Jimbo’s freelancing.
“Don’t bet on it,” Samson responded.
“We’ll burn through that in a couple of minutes of serious combat,” Laura added. A short time later, Mike and Gary reappeared, letting in a gust of wind as they opened the barn doors.
“You’re on, Jimbo and Kat,” Mike said, dripping water onto the floor as he removed his raincoat and overtrousers.
“How is it out there?” Jimbo asked.
“Just delightful!” Mike answered. “It’s not as bad as it was but it’s still chucking it down.”
“By the way,” he added, as the two prepared to move out, “One of the farms down the lane has got a couple of lads standing by the gate with shotguns. You might want to avoid startling them.”
“What’s up?” he asked as he wandered across and sat on a bail across from me.
“I’ve been doing some thinking…”
“Dangerous!”
“And we need to get some plans together for the medium term. Things like organising some proper military training for James and me and maybe some of the others and…to be honest, I’m not really sure what questions to ask…”
“In a couple of weeks, we’re going to have hoards of people moving out of the cities desperate for food,” Laura said as she came across, holding mugs of tea for us. “What do we need to do between now and then to get ready?”
I nodded my thanks to Laura and took a slurp of the tea.
“That’s part of it,” I answered. “There’s also questions about: what and how much should we be growing - when we’re not guarding the place we’re going to be farming; whether our water supply is clean and secure; what we should do about the water-borne diseases that, Susan thinks, will kill more people than anything else; and, of course, all those things I haven’t thought about yet?”
As I had been talking, Laura had taken her pad back from me and started making notes. “OK,” she said, “I’ve got: security; farming; water supply; disease; and military training…” She looked up.
“Add injuries,” I said. “As I said to Susan, James puts an axe in his foot…”
“So, firewood,” Mike added.
“Fuel,” Laura said as she wrote, “both for heating and vehicles.”
“Oh, and: getting more supplies,” she added. “Phil had the idea of looking at abandoned lorries,” she explained to Mike.
"What a good idea!" I managed to say at last. "Good job I mentioned it to you - I'd completely forgotten!"
“The sooner we can do that the better,” Mike observed. “Before bags of rice and flour are chucked out in the rain by people hunting for a tin of beans.”
“OK, is that it for now?” Laura asked looking round the group. Mike and I nodded.
“OK, should we go through them in order?” I suggested. “Security… what would be your ideal setup?”
Mike wrapped himself round his mug and thought for a while, tapping the rim on his teeth. “We need a co-ordinated defensive setup for the whole valley,” he answered at last. “If I had twenty people - or better, twenty five - we could put up a guard on the bridge with an observation post on the hillside opposite… then a roving patrol to watch for people coming in around the back… and everyone else needs to be trained up to act as a last line of defence...” He was quiet for a moment and we let him think.
“I should go down and talk to the other farms,” he said, suddenly jumping to his feet.
“No!” I responded, almost sharply. “That won’t work round here. You’re an outsider so you’ll need to be properly introduced before anyone will work with you. We need to get Alice in on this but...” I trailed off.
“She’s just buried her son and her husband,” Laura said. “It would be surprising if she wasn’t having a tough time dealing with it.”
“But I still need to talk to her,” I said, almost to myself. “I’d love to give her time but we don’t have that luxury.”
The group was quiet for a few seconds then Laura said, “So you’ll work on Alice to get us linked up with the other farms?”
“And we’ll carry on with our basic patrols for now… as much to get a feel for the lie of the land as anything else,” Mike added.
“So farming…” Laura said.
“Not the right people here,” Mike responded. “Tell us when you need muscle and we’ll send Samson along.”
“I heard that,” Samson rumbled. He had finished his shaving and was now stretched out on a sleeping bag on a bed made of straw bales. “Can’t you just get a tractor running.”
“Tom’s old tractor!” I exploded.
This drew puzzled looks.
“Tom, and Ned from down the road, have got an ancient tractor that they display at local agricultural fairs. “We might be able to get it running.”
“That would be quite handy,” Laura said with a smile. “It’d be a useful negotiating item with the other farms, too.”
“That’s definitely a job for you, Mr Electrical Engineer,” Mike said.
“Maybe get Gary in on it, too,” Laura suggested. “He’s good at that sort of thing.”
“That comes quite high up the list of priorities,” Mike observed. “I don’t know anything about farming but I guess doing it by hand is pretty hard work!”
Laura looked down the list then said, “I think we can say the same for firewood. We need to get a chainsaw running if we possibly can. I mean, I’m sure hacking at trees with an axe is character forming…” She looked at the two of us and we nodded.
“We’ve got a bit of time there,” Mike commented.
“Not as much as you might think,” I answered. “Unless we can find dead trees, the wood needs time to dry out before you can burn it.”
“Water supply?” Laura said after making some notes and looking at her list. “I’m not sure what you want there. It seems to be working OK.”
“I just want to understand what’s going on and be happy it’s not going to fail on us,” I answered.
“I’ll have a nose round,” Mike said.
Laura made a note then said, “Disease and injury?”
“I’ll need to get back to Susan about them,” I said. “I’ve already mentioned it to her.”
As Laura made a note, Mike looked over her shoulder and said, “Extra supplies… You said about lorries… where should we look?”
“The ‘New Road’ is the obvious place,” I answered.
“How far away is that?”
“It’s about five miles to the road then as far along it as we want to go.”
Mike went back to tapping his teeth on his mug as he thought. “I’d rather not risk the vehicles out there until we know it’s worthwhile,” he said, almost to himself. He suddenly stopped tapping and said, “Bikes! We brought another of those paratrooper bikes. You,” he nodded at me, “me and Jimbo can see how things are tomorrow. If it’s worthwhile we can take the van straight to wherever it’s needed. You got anything planned for tomorrow?”
“I was thinking of going for a bike ride,” I answered with a smile. “Be particularly fun if the weather stays like this!”
“OK, vehicle fuel,” Laura said, looking at her list. “I guess that means diesel.”
“Unless we can get that chainsaw going,” Mike muttered, though he was obviously thinking about something else.
“We’ll have to ask around,” I said. The farms might have tanks of the stuff and it won’t be much use to them without any running vehicles.”
“Job for you, then,” Laura said, making a note.
I nodded.
She skimmed her list and said, “That just leaves ‘military training’.”
“Who do you want in your army?” I asked.
“Anyone big enough to hold a rifle,” Mike answered promptly, “and the rest need to be trained so they know what to do when we’re attacked.”
“So me and James,” I said.
“And Susan, Angela and Rebecca,” Laura said firmly.
I looked at her, slightly surprised.
“Go on, say something, I dare you!” Mike said with a grin towards Laura who had a uncompromising glint in her eyes.
“I think it might be wisest to keep any private reservations I might have to myself,” I said with a smile.
“Good choice,” Laura said firmly. “We women have more at stake. If we’re overrun, you men’ll just be killed...” She trailed off then added. “For a couple of months, I helped out in a women’s rescue centre in a war zone... Get me drunk some time and I’ll tell you about it. You won’t like it.”
She stared at the floor and Mike reached out and put his hand on her arm. After a few seconds she looked up, gave Mike a smile and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She looked down at her list. “So, military training…” she said.
“You good to run ‘em through basic?” Mike asked her. “I mean, it’ll need adjusting a bit… with old men like this,” he nodded at me, “and kids…”
“I’m sure I can manage perfectly well, thank you very much!” Laura said with an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s have a chat to the new recruits after tea tonight then get together for a couple of hours tomorrow morning. We can take it from there.”
“I’ll be off on my bike ride,” I told her.
“Don’t worry about it,” she answered. “I’ll be running a couple of courses. We’ll just stick you on the next one.”
“You’ll be getting plenty of ‘on the job’ training tomorrow, too,” Mike observed.
She looked down at her notes again then said, “OK, unless you two have anything to add, I think we’re done.” We looked at each other and nodded.
She took the top sheet off her pad and handed it to me. “You’ve got most of the jobs,” she said, “so you better have this. But make sure you bring it with you next time we have one of these chats. I don’t want to waste the paper.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” I answered sharply. She punched me gently but, being Laura, not that gently.
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Post by garethn on Oct 5, 2018 3:53:10 GMT -6
Lots of Mam talking in this one. Let me know if you can’t understand what she’s on about and I’ll translate for you!
If you are confused as to what she sounds like - think about Wallace in the Wallace and Gromit films!
Chapter 3 - Evolution
Rubbing my shoulder, I looked down the list and it confirmed what I already knew. I needed to get my hands on Alice. So I put my coat on and headed out into the rain.
I was about to run back to the house when I saw that the workshop door was ajar so I hurried across the yard and looked inside. Alice was in there with her three working dogs, rubbing one of them down with an ancient, holey towel. I stepped inside, took another towel from the pile and started to rub down another. It looked across at Alice, as if asking for permission; other people didn’t normally handle her dogs. Alice gave a nod and the dog relaxed and started to enjoy its toweling.
“Mam,” I began, "My spy tells me you're not eating properly."
"Then your spy can mind 'er own business. We're going to be short enough o' food afore this lot is over.”
“It is her business: it’s everybody’s business. We need you.”
“Nobody needs a useless old woman cluttering up t’place."
I was quiet for a moment - shaken by this.
"Mam, you haven’t given up, have you?"
She went rigid and emotion played across her face: first anger, then defiance, then finally she collapsed into tears - for her, an unimaginable display of human frailty .
"I can't do it no more, Philip," she sobbed. "Not without our Tom. I can't do it. I just can't."
I went across and held her. For a moment she was just rigid but then she collapsed onto my shoulder. The dogs looked at me with more than a little hostility.
"You know I understand, don't you?” I said. “There have been plenty of days when I just didn't want to get up of a mornin’."
"Yes, but you've got them little ones to tek care on," she sobbed. "There's no one as needs me."
"That's just rubbish," I snapped. Alice recoiled slightly in shock. Nobody talked to her in that way… ever. "We need you now more than anyone,” I went on. “The place won’t hold together without you. There's nobody who knows more about farming these hills, about getting food out of the ground hereabouts, than you. It’d be better for my kids if I were to put a bullet in my own head than let owt happen to you."
She was silent, shocked by this idea.
"Listen, love," I began, then I paused, realising that my use of that one word had forever changed the relationship between us. She was the matriarch. She addressed other people as 'Love' and was called 'Mam' in return. My use of this word was taking the responsibility for her clan onto my own shoulders.
It had been done now. There was no going back.
"Listen, love. Can you give us one more year? Show us how to make a go of it in these hills. We really can't do it without you."
She thought about it for several seconds then gave a deep sigh. "Aye, I can do that for yer."
She broke from my embrace and we went back to toweling down the dogs.
“And while we’re about it, there are plenty of strong backs about that can do the lifting and carrying and the rounding up of the sheep in the rain. Do I really have to tell you that you’re not as young as you used to be? You’ve got to take a bit of care of yourself."
She bridled at this; a couple of days ago she would have slapped me for less. Then she collapsed. My victory was complete.
“Aye,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll see to it I tek care of me sen.”
Then a hint of embarrassment flickered across her face. "You won't go tellin' no one about..."
"What do you think I am, Mam?" By going back to using 'Mam' I was telling her that the transition of responsibility was going to be gradual and that she would not lose status. "Of course I won't go telling no one. I will tell Susan that we had a talk and that she can stop worrying about you eating proper."
Alice took a man-sized handkerchief from a sleeve. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
"She's a good lass, that 'un.” She cleared her throat. “You know as 'ow you’d 'ave me blessin’ if as how..."
"Thank you, Mam," I answered, slightly formally. "We're not that far down the road as yet but still, it means a lot to me, coming from you."
"Nowt but the truth," she answered. "She's already acting like a proper mother to them girls."
"That she is," I said with a smile. "That she is."
“But I’ll ’ave no funny business under my roof afore you’re wed!” she added.
I had to smile. This was the first hint of the old Mam coming out since her husband’s death.
“Mam,” I protested, “I know we shared a room last night but the two girls were in there with us. We couldn’t have managed any ‘funny business’ if we’d wanted!”
To be honest, even when we had been married, Mary and I had never felt that comfortable with ‘funny business’ when we’d been on the farm… or, at least, in the farmhouse, but that’s another matter!
She muttered something about ‘where there’s a will…’ but I decided it was time to move the conversation on.
“I’ve been talking with a couple of people,” I told her, “trying to work out what we need to get on with first. There are some things where we really need your help.”
“Aye?”
“Here’s the list,” I said showing it to her. I wanted to let her know that we weren’t keeping anything from her.
I gave her a couple of seconds to look over it, then went on, “Three things where we really need you. First, I wanted to see whether we can get that old tractor running.” I nodded to the tarpaulin covered lump at the back of the shed. “I can’t imagine it’s got too much by way of clever electronics in it!”
“That’d take a weight off,” she commented, nodding slowly. “You’ll be wantin’ Ned’s ’elp wi’ that. He knows his way round that thing as well as Tom does… did.” She swallowed a few times as she composed herself and I pretended not to notice.
“Right, and I thought it might be easier coming from you.”
“’Appen,” she agreed.
“Second... sooner or later, we’re going to have loads of people coming out of town looking for food. They’re not going to take ‘No’ for an answer so we’re going to have to set up some serious defences. Mike was saying stuff about observation posts and roaming guards, and so on... he knows much more about that sort of thing than we ever will.”
Alice nodded.
“But that’s going to take more people than we have here on the farm, particularly if we’re going to get any farming done. Mike wanted to walk down and ask the people on the other farms…”
“They wouldn’t give ’im the time o’ day!”
“They’d listen to you, though.”
“Aye, they would that,” she agreed.
“And, of course, the big thing that we need you for is the farm. We need to know how much food we can get out of the place?”
“A sight more if we can get that tractor goin’,” she muttered as she thought about the answer. “OK, we’ve got five hundred head of sheep up on t’hill…”
“We’ve got to get ’em down into the valley where we can look after ’em,” I said and got a sharp look for interrupting her. “I’m sorry Mam, but, come autumn, there’ll not be a sheep left on the tops. They’ll all be in somebody’s stewpot.”
This drew a skeptical look.
“Mam, I can’t lie to you. I’d do worse than that if my kids were starving. Most folk wouldn’t even think it were stealing…” I paused briefly. “So how many can we keep down here in the valley where we can keep an eye on ’em?”
“A hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty... I’ve still got some pellets left over from last winter.”
“So that would mean we could take one or two a week without running down the stock too badly?”
“More ‘an that through t’summer as we’re running t’flock down.”
“It’s still not going to be enough…” I said almost to myself.
“That’s why we’ve always done the vegetables, out t’back. You can live all right off of mutton and vegetables - not grand, mind, but alright. We always knew as how we could get ’em cheaper in t’supermarket but we’ve got ’em now an’ t’supermarket aint.”
“We’re going to have to expand that vegetable plot, if we can,” I said to her.
“’Appen,” she responded. It was nothing she didn’t know.
“So, the big question is: how much are we going to be able to grow this year?”
“We’re about a dozen, aren’t we?”
“Fourteen, if you count my girls as half each,” I answered promptly.
Then we might have Ben and his two...”
I grimaced inwardly. Ben was some sort of relative; I never knew the details and suspected that there was some sort of dark family secret there. I really didn’t care about that. What I did care about was the fact that the mother, Margret, and, particularly their teenage daughter, Ashley, were awkward, demanding and just plain rude. Alice tolerated behaviour from them that she would never tolerate from anyone else... hence my suspicion of the secret.
“And…” she trailed off.
“They might make it,” I managed to force myself to say. It was all the reassurance I could give her. Her eldest, Andrew, lived down in London with a wife and two boys. He was something big in ‘trade indemnity’ insurance down in the city and had the home and lifestyle to prove it. He was generous, though, and when Mary had become ill and I had to take time off work to support her and the kids, he had, without prompting, paid off our mortgage. “He’s clever, resourceful…”
Unfortunately he was clever, resourceful and two hundred miles away uncomfortably close to what had, by now, inevitably, become hell on earth.
I allowed Alice a couple of seconds to think about her son before pulling her thoughts back to the matter in hand. “So, what are we going to need for the farm?” I asked.
She gave me a puzzled look.
“We’ve got a working van and the Landy,” I told her. “We should try to collect whatever we need whilst we might still have a chance of finding it.”
She thought about this then nodded. “More seed’s the main thing; we’ll need that if we’re gonna do owt about a bigger vegetable plot.” She thought for a few seconds before listing another couple of items, most of which I recognised. “Can you get down to t’store in Amberford?”
I thought about this then nodded. There was a countryside store on the outskirts of the town that held this sort of stock. “I’d want to check with Mike but we should manage,” I answered. “If you get a list together, we can see about organising an expedition out there… it’ll be the day after tomorrow, though. Tomorrow, we were planning on going up to have a look at what’s in the lorries up on the New Road.”
She gave a nod.
“Diesel?” I asked, looking down my list.
“We’ve got ‘alf a tank round t’back of t’house,” she answered.
“Should keep us going for a while. I can’t imagine we’ll be doing much driving. Firewood…” I said, after looking down at my list. “There’s plenty of wood across the other side of the valley but it’s goin’ to need some time to dry. Do you have a chainsaw?”
“Careful or you’ll bang your ’ead on it,” Alice said with a rare smile. She pointed to one hanging on the wall just to my right.
I smiled back, glad to hear something of her familiar tone returning. “We can have a look at it when we’re done with the tractor… and we’re OK for wedges and mauls and so on?”
Alice nodded.
“Food stores… I asked Angela to make a list of what we’ve got up in the house. And the last thing is water. Presumably that tap in the kitchen comes from a spring.” One single, ancient tap in the back wall of the kitchen was still working.
“‘Bout ‘undred yards back up t’hill,” she replied.
“Mike will want to know where it is so he can fit it in with his defence plans. OK,” I checked the list again one last time. That’s it. “Should we go and see about some lunch?”
We hung up the towels to dry then made our way back to the house.
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Post by garethn on Oct 5, 2018 3:54:11 GMT -6
Do we think this will quieten the more roar for a while?
Chapter 4 - Neighbours
After lunch, Alice, Mike and I set off down the hill to meet the neighbours. It went without saying that we walked down the valley. It made no sense to use the vehicles any more than was necessary and, anyway, Mike wanted to get a feel for the area.
Lintondale was short and flat-bottomed but had steep sides leading up to open ridges where sheep grazed. The fields and road were lined with limestone drystone walls which had been built quite high in places as generations of farmers had tried to clear the fields of rocks.
At the bottom of the valley, a small stream bubbled along, lined in places by scrubby woodland. It joined a larger river down in the main valley where the lane went over a bridge and joined a slightly larger road.
There were six houses spread out along the little valley and the first one we came to was the Thompson’s. They lived in a large bungalow and, though they were retired, Mr Thomson tended a large vegetable plot and they had a small cottage down by the bridge that they let out to visitors in the summer. Mary and I had stayed there one Christmas when the farm had been full. Alice knocked sharply, on the back door of course, and, after a few seconds, a slightly nervous voice asked, “Who is it?”
“It's Alice,” she replied. “I've got our Mary’s Philip with me and a friend of theirs. You goin’ to open up?”
“Ay, alright,” came the response as bolts were drawn back and locks undone.
We were invited into the kitchen and offered tea - though we'd have to drink it black because they had no milk.
“Well that's daft,” Alice commented. “They've got t’better part of two dozen cows down at the Drummond’s that they’re goin’ to ’ave to let go dry on account of havin’ nowt to do with t’milk. You should ’ave said summat.”
“We heard as there were trouble up at your place,” Mrs Thompson said cautiously, changing the subject.
“Ay,” Alice replied grimly, “that there was. That Ken of mine and his two good for nowt mates took it into their ‘eads to come callin’ on our Angie. Luckily Mike, here, was up on t’ill. He were in in t’army wi’ our Mary an’ t’three on ‘em won't be giving us grief no more.”
The Thomsons nodded understandingly but the telepathy that operates in this part of the world - for there had been no sign - told them there was more and they waited respectfully for her to finish.
“Our Tom were killed an’ all,” she added tersely and I heard the crack of emotion in her voice. This was, of course, respectfully ignored.
“I'm sorry to ‘ear that,” Mr Thompson said after a brief moment of respect. “He were a good bloke… solid.”
Alice nodded at this heartfelt eulogy and I could swear I saw her wipe away a tear.
“Any road,” Alice went on to cover up this embarrassing outpouring of emotion. “That's not why we're ’ere. As I were sayin’, we were thinkin’ there might be trouble from the folk in town makin’ their way out here, lookin’ for food. I asked our Mike ’ere an’ a couple of his mates to come out an’ keep an eye on things for us.”
This received nods of understanding and agreement.
“He’s ’ad a look over things an’ he thinks it might be best to get everyone workin’ together to see ’em off.”
The Thompsons looked at each and exchanged a silent nod,” Ned got to his feet, returning a few seconds later with a shotgun and a couple of boxes of shells. “This any use to you?” he asked.
Mike nodded, took it out of his hands, checked it wasn't loaded and inspected it. It was clearly ancient but had been immaculately maintained. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Thank you. I’ll try to make sure we take care of it.”
“Glad to see it in good ’ands,” Ned muttered. “Don’t know ’ow long we've got left, not with…” He trailed off, realising he was venturing into territory that shouldn’t be discussed in front of strangers.
“We’ve got a nurse stayin’ with us an’ all,” Alice said. “She had to get out of town in a hurry, like. I’ll send ’er down to ’ave a word.”
“Be appreciated,” Ned answered. He looked at his wife and the two shared another of their telepathic messages. “Where yer stayin’?” he asked Mike.
“We’re in the barn,” Mike answered, “I’ve stayed in much worse!”
“Would you like the use of our cottage?” he asked. “You'll ’ave to do sumat about t’heatin before next winter. It's on t’gas.” “If we’re still alive to worry about the heating until next winter, I’ll be more than happy to deal with it then,” Mike commented flatly.
The rest of us looked at him and nodded. It had brought the conversation down to earth with a bump but we knew he was right.
“Is there owt else we can ’elp out wi’?” Ned asked.
“I thought I’d see if we could get the old tractor running,” I answered. “I mean, it shouldn’t have too much by way of clever electronics in it. Alice was saying you’ve worked on it.”
“Aye that I ’ave - Tom and me’sen…” he went quiet, eyes misting over as he mourned the loss of his friend.
“You doin’ alright for food?” Alice asked. Even I knew that it was something of a breach of local etiquette to pose such a direct question about somebody’s situation but in the circumstances Alice deemed it tolerable. “I only ask ’cos we’re clearin’ out three freezers and I'd hate to see owt go to waste.” “Well, we’re eatin’ the jars of vegetables I put by last autumn,” Mrs Thompson said, “but they’ll keep a good while longer.” “I’ll send some bits down wi’ our Susan when she comes,” Alice said. “Might be them funny ‘ready meals’ but, right now, food’s food.” I noted with interest the use of the word ‘our’. It indicated that Susan had already been adopted into Alice’s clan. “True enough,” Mr Thompson agreed. “Is there owt else we can ’elp you wi’?” “Not as I can think of, but you’ll let us know when you need a hand wi’ t’vegetable plot. We’ve plenty of strong backs up at our place as’ll just get into bother if they’ve nowt to do!”
“Aye,” he nodded in agreement. The room went quiet.
“We’d best be on our way,” Alice said. “We’re wanting to look in on the rest of the folk down the valley.”
“Well, be sure to give ‘em our regards,” Mrs Thompson said as we went on our way.
The next farm down the lane was the Drummond’s which had already taken some security measures. A couple of old cars had been pushed across the gateway and two young men were standing in front with shotguns. They were chatting and had failed to notice our approach.
“Mornin’ lads,” Mike called out as we approached. The two jumped and started to swing their guns towards us.
“Don’t you go pointing them things at us,” Alice told the two sharply. “We’ve come to see your folks. Are they in?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” The two fell over each other in their haste to open the gate for Alice. “Dad’s in t’milkin’ shed.”
Mr Drummond had heard us coming and came to the door of the shed. “Alice,” he said, cordially, “Gents.”
“Albert,” Alice replied. “You’ve met our Mary’s Philip and this is a friend of theirs, Sergeant Mike Jenkins.”
“Sergeant,” Mr Drummond noted. “Who were you with?”
“I was with the Yorkshires,” Mike replied.
“Infantry! So you’ll know about...”
“Defending a small valley against all comers?” Mike replied with a grim smile. “I know a thing or two.”
Mr Drummond nodded. “What are your thoughts?” he asked.
“We need to get a single military structure in place with everyone between fourteen and sixty trained and pulling six hour shifts. I’d want guards on the bridge, an observation post on the hillside opposite and we’ll run patrols that would spot most people trying to get in round the back.” “Most?” Mr Drummond challenged sharply. “I could get through without anyone knowing… maybe Jimbo, one of my lads, could too. I don’t think anyone else round here could.” Mr Drummond nodded. They didn't go in for false modesty round here. “You reckon it’ll be enough?” he asked.
“It’ll keep out most groups unless they have serious military knowledge and weaponry and, of course, we could always be overwhelmed by simple numbers.”
“’Appen… so what’re yer plans?”
“I was going to get my Corporal, Laura…”
“Laura?”
“Laura! And don’t make any mistakes with her… she’s put plenty of recruits through basic and you don’t want to get on the wrong side of her!”
He smiled and nodded.
“Anyway, I was thinking that she could get ten or a dozen of the people from the valley together tomorrow - probably down at the bridge because that’s where I expect trouble. She’ll see about some initial training - probably a couple of mornings - then we can get ‘em on guard rotation with my trained lads. Then see about putting another batch through next week.”
“Makes sense. I’ll probably just send the lads down, first off…” he thought for a moment then turned to Alice. “I’m sorry,” he said to her. “I’m being rude ’ere. Do you want to go on in and see our Janet?”
“I’d like a quiet word, if that’s OK.” Alice said.
The three of us took the hint. “I need to be gettin’ on.” Mr Drummond said. “I’m setting up a stall so I can hand milk a couple of t’cows.”
“And I thought I might go down and have a word with your lads about standing watch… if that’s alright by you.” Mike added. I suggested I joined him.
The other meetings down the valley followed the same general pattern with sympathy for Alice’s loss and ideas for mutual help and support. Two of the farms already had relatives in residence and there were already over thirty people - many of whom immediately recognised the coming threat from the cities and were enthusiastic about joining Mike’s mutual defence force. We had about a dozen volunteers for the first round of training and slightly fewer for the second.
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Post by texican on Oct 5, 2018 17:14:29 GMT -6
G,
Thanks for the four chapters....
Now the real work begins to survive....
Texican....
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Post by misterjimbo on Oct 5, 2018 23:12:36 GMT -6
"Do we think this will quieten the more roar for a while?"
Does a heroin junkie stop looking for the next fix? The more we get - the more we want. But, you can bribe us with a couple more chapters.
Misterjimbo I keeps my chickens in a Faraday cage.
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Post by garethn on Oct 12, 2018 8:14:57 GMT -6
I’ve tidied up some boo-boos in the earlier chapters so if anyone had them cached and not read them yet it might be worth a new download.
No significant changes!
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Post by garethn on Oct 12, 2018 8:16:03 GMT -6
Misterjimbo I keeps my chickens in a Faraday cage. I suppose multiple layers of chicken wire might act as a Faraday cage - depending on wavelengths!
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