The Perimeter

by Shalini Boland

  ‘I am here to introduce myself to you,’ Matthew said, his voice reedy but confident through the loudspeaker. ‘Our Father is gravely ill and we do not yet know if he will recover.’ He paused to allow the impact of his words to permeate the arena. ‘But he is still Our Father and we will pray for him with every ounce of strength in our bodies and souls.

  ‘It pains me to tell you that his voice was damaged during the attack and He is unable to speak at present. Therefore, he has decreed that I should become His Voice.

  ‘I am now The Voice of the Father and all his words will go through me. When I speak to you, it is His words I speak. I am The Voice of the Father. All kneel.’

  Jamie sank to his knees once more, Matthew’s words spinning through his brain. If James Grey died, would this young boy take his place? Jamie didn’t know if he liked the idea of that.

  The soldiers’ days of prayers lasted a full two weeks, until finally, miraculously, James Grey was considered healed and out of danger. It transpired that Grey’s vocal chords had been damaged beyond repair and so Matthew’s position as The Voice of the Father was made permanent.

  Jamie’s days continued as before, only they were now so full that he barely had a moment to think of anything other than the increasingly gruelling exercises they were expected to complete. Their fitness regime was now also interspersed with weapons training: rifle, hand gun, short-handled knife and sword practice.

  Some days, they were taken to a separate nearby compound containing hundreds of horses. There, they were taught to ride and fight on horseback. To Jamie’s surprise, he excelled at everything, with sharp reflexes, a steady hand and a keen eye. He and several others were quickly moved up to a different, more challenging, group.

  They had also begun to train inside the actual arena where Jamie had first seen the robed warriors. In fact, Jamie hadn’t seen the warriors inside the compound for quite a while now. Had they gone? Did this mean the warriors were training somewhere else? Or were they actually fighting a real enemy on the outside? Maybe it was something to do with the attack on Grey.

  Jamie wouldn’t want to be in their enemy’s shoes. Grey’s robed warriors were terrifying. He wondered if he would ever be expected to go out and fight. Although he was competent in training, he wasn’t so sure he’d be brave enough in a battle situation. Would a day come where he would be made to fight for real? He guessed so, but he hoped not.

  Another month passed. The weather grew stormy and the arena, as Jamie had predicted, now churned with thick oozing mud. This did not mean they could slack off in their training. The men continued on in all weathers, learning to put up with the conditions, their clothes constantly damp, their quarters dripping and chilly, their muscles always aching. To Jamie, these squalid living arrangements were a step up from what he was used to – hardened to the elements as he was – but many of his brothers suffered discomfort and illness, although they never complained.

  Jamie’s question about the warriors was soon answered as several wounded soldiers began to return. A makeshift hospital was set up on the east side of the compound in a couple of the training rooms, and medical staff were brought in from elsewhere. Jamie idly wondered if he would see Miriam, the doctor who had fixed up his leg all those weeks ago. He probably owed her his life; there was no way he would’ve survived on the outside with that kind of injury. But any medics he happened to glimpse were male.

  There was obviously some kind of conflict going on, but as usual he was kept in the dark. Jamie attempted to stifle his curiosity but the fact of the matter was he was burning to know what was going on beyond the walls. He tried to ask a few subtle questions, but everyone seemed content to remain ignorant.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before Jamie and his brothers were back in the arena on their knees praying for their leader once more and this time it was worse – James Grey had been captured by their enemies, held hostage for reasons unknown. This could only mean one thing – a full-scale war was coming.

  On his knees in the mud once more, listening to the monotonous words of the disciples, Jamie tried to keep his mind on the prayers he was supposed to be sending to God. But the truth was, he was freezing cold and miserable. He believed they would be much more use to Grey continuing with their training, rather than kneeling in the dirt all day. At least the sun was shining now, but it was merely the shadow of a sun, with no real warmth.

  He mouthed the prayers while practicing fighting manoeuvres in his head. He was anticipating his opponents’ moves and blocking imaginary blows, when suddenly two sets of real hands grabbed Jamie’s arms and hauled him to his feet. Without thinking, Jamie twisted out of their grip and assumed a fighting stance. Then he opened his eyes wide and blinked in the bright sunshine, remembering where he was. As his eyes adjusted, they focused on two robed guards, their faces concealed. Jamie immediately lost his aggression, bowing his head in submission.

  After a couple of moments’ hesitation, one of the guards gave him a sharp nudge sideways on the shoulder with the tips of his fingers and so Jamie turned and began to walk ahead of them, picking his way through a sea of bowed heads, his heart hammering in his chest. Had they read his mind? Could they have known that he wasn’t really praying? Not one person glanced his way. Every head remained bent, eyes presumably shut tight. The disciple on the platform did not miss a beat as Jamie was led from the arena.

  In order to calm himself, Jamie began to recite the warriors’ chant. Though he did not speak it out loud, the words instantly soothed him and slowed his heart rate to a steady thud. Once out of the arena, the robed men headed along one of the corridors and into one of the dimly lit exit chambers. Keys were procured, locks undone, doors opened and closed once more. They passed through a final door which clanged shut behind them with solemn finality.

  Unshaded sunshine now assaulted Jamie’s eyes as he found himself outside the arena walls with just his two enigmatic guards for company. The world beyond the walls appeared vast and empty without the familiar security of his warrior brothers around him.

  Was he being evicted or were they returning him to The Close? Why now? Why at such a critical time, when James Grey’s life was in jeopardy? Was it a coincidence or did they somehow think that Jamie had something to do with the attack? He tried to push out these thoughts by clinging to the mantra in his head, but he was so familiar with the words that he was now able to chant while thinking other things at the same time.

  Here, beyond the metal walls of the arena, snatches of the disciple’s prayer came to him on the chill autumn breeze, the loudspeaker sending the man’s words out into the wide sky, sometimes dipping low and other times swooping high and out of earshot. As they walked, the words of the prayer gradually faded. Jamie and his companions were moving inexorably further from the compound, back across the water meadows where stubborn beads of morning dew still clung to the long grass.

  Would nothing remain stable in his life? When Jamie had first arrived at The Close he thought he was fated to become a kitchen hand and had grown strangely content to chop vegetables and weed the garden. But just as he was accepting his lot, he had been wrenched from it and thrust into the world of the warrior. This too, he had gradually come to accept. So now what? Jamie was in their hands. He had no free will in this place. He had to follow where they led and ask no questions. He had to live a life of acceptance.

  If his life was no longer his own, he should stop questioning and give himself over to these people. He should recite their words and block out all other thoughts. Suddenly, up ahead, a flapping of wings as dozens of goldfinches took to the air like overgrown bumblebees, their black and yellow markings catching sunbeams. Jamie watched their playful flight, envying such uncomplicated freedom. No one told the birds what to do; they just did their thing, followed their natural instincts. They had no choices to make; nature chose for them.

  The meaning of the mantra suddenly came to him:

  ‘Deus lux mea est – God is my Light.

&nb
sp; Dum vivimus servimus – While we live, we serve.’

  Up until now he’d been going along with things because of the benefits of this place, the safety and security it offered. But now he realised he needed to truly commit. The birds served nature. Nature was their god. Jamie would be like these joyful goldfinches. He would follow his God. He would let James Grey dictate his life, because it would be easier that way. He would stop worrying and wondering and just accept what came to him. The mantra filled his thoughts and a smile lit his face as he continued walking across the dew-sodden grass, the hopeful sound of birdsong in his ears.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Riley

  ‘You nearly finished?’ Luc asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ I replied, running a cloth through the barrel of my Magnum. ‘Still got another one to do after this.’

  It was late evening and we were sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of Pa’s underground storerooms cleaning our weapons and sorting out ammunition supplies. Although faced with an impendingly dire situation, I had never felt happier. Since this afternoon, everything had taken on a brighter hue, a less sinister aspect. The rations were low, but we would manage. The weather was harsh, but spring would return. An army was coming, but Luc loved me.

  Luc loved me. And I loved him. And nothing else mattered.

  With Luc I could face a hundred FJs.

  Throughout the perimeter, work continued at a fevered, panicked pace. Everyone pitched in no matter what their age – children, adults, the elderly. No rest, no sleep. With only the briefest breaks to eat.

  We had sent two copters out that evening to see if they could spot FJ’s army. We knew they marched by night and so it would be almost impossible to spot them, but we had to try. We needed to know how far away they were. How much time we had left.

  Would FJ really have the nerve to attack if he didn’t get what he wanted? i.e. me and Grey. We would soon find out, as Grey was dead and Liss wasn’t about to betray me to her psycho brother. FJ would be a fool to attempt an outright attack on the perimeter. We could last out for weeks in here. Months. But then I remembered the sight of Grey’s men surrounding the Ringwood Perimeter – the dead guards and the rigged explosives – and a drop of doubt tainted my conviction. My moment of worry was blotted out with a long deep kiss from Luc. His hands cupping my face. His touch tangling my thoughts. This thing with FJ had become an inconvenience rather than a fear, taking me away from where I wanted to be. Here. Now. In this kiss.

  Luc and I broke off at the approach of footsteps.

  ‘This way.’ Pa’s voice. He ducked his head to enter the subterranean room. Behind him came some of our guys from the perimeter, along with Luc’s Uncle Rufus. In their arms, they carried stacks of wooden crates.

  Luc gave me a rueful smile and jumped to his feet. He took some of the crates from Pa, stacking them with the others against the wall.

  ‘Luc,’ Rufus said, putting the crates on the floor and holding out his arms. ‘Not too old to give your uncle a hug are you?’

  Luc grinned and complied.

  ‘Is that you, Riley?’ he said. ‘Wow, what a stunner you’ve turned into.’

  I blushed at the compliment. Luc’s uncle had always been over-the-top. But in a good way. I laid down my weapon and got a hug too. It had been ages since we’d last seen him. The room grew crowded as several more men and women appeared, laden with crates upon crates.

  Rufus was rumoured to be a weapons manufacturer – either that or an extremely competent arms dealer – but it was something he would never confirm or deny. Knowledge like that was dangerous to his health. He didn’t even tell us where he lived – as much for our own safety as his.

  ‘Are you staying?’ Luc asked his uncle.

  ‘Sadly, no. I’m needed elsewhere. But I’ll come back if things get too hairy, okay?’

  Luc nodded. ‘What goodies did you bring us?’

  ‘Ammo mainly. But there are a few hand guns and I also managed to get hold of some grenades.’

  There was a moment of stunned awe at this revelation.

  ‘I know, I know,’ he said, hands up in false modesty. ‘I’m a superstar genius, right?’

  ‘I’d have to agree with you, Unc,’ Luc said. ‘Those could come in very handy.’

  ‘Good. Well, sorry to drop in and run, but I have to go. Great to see you guys. Take care of each other and I hope to God you don’t need to use any of this stuff.’

  We hugged again and he turned and made his way out of the room.

  ‘Riley,’ Pa said, before leaving. ‘Can you get this ammo distributed to all the guard posts on the wall?’

  ‘Sure. Anything else?’

  ‘That’s it for now. It’ll take a while. Come and see me or Eddie when you’re done.’ He singled out four of the men who had entered the room with him. ‘Wait here. Riley’ll tell you where these boxes are needed.’

  And so the rest of the night was spent distributing ammunition and counting and allocating weapons. It was a mammoth job. One of too many. I hoped that if FJ did show up, it wouldn’t be anytime before his expected date of Christmas Eve.

  We worked until we were done. I managed to get about three hours sleep from 4 am to 7 am, and then when I opened my eyes at the sound of the alarm clock, my first thought was of Luc. I smiled and curled into myself for a moment, allowing myself the brief luxury of remembering yesterday’s journey back from The Walls, before flinging back the covers and preparing for the day ahead.

  I opened my blackout blinds and had to shield my eyes. Another bright, crisp morning. A day for walking in the woods, for talking in the sunshine. A day for lovers, not a day for war. But we had no choice in the matter. Trouble was coming to our door and we had to deal with it head on. No point hoping for the best. Not in this world. My room was freezing as usual, so I showered briefly, enjoying the heat of the jets, and threw on some warm clothes.

  As I came down the stairs, Pa was coming in through the front door. The skin beneath his eyes bruised from lack of sleep.

  ‘Morning, sweetheart. Did you manage to get any shut eye?’

  ‘Yeah, a few hours. You look like you could use some too.’

  ‘Later,’ he said. ‘I’ll just have a coffee and rest my eyes for a minute or two.’

  I followed him into the kitchen where a note from Ma rested on the table:

  Morning darlings, Gone to the crèche with Liss and Annabelle, see you later xxx.

  Rather than build defences or distribute supplies, Ma had volunteered to help look after the babies and toddlers while their parents worked at securing the perimeter. She had wanted me to help out too, but there was no way I was sitting inside with a roomful of babies. Not with everything else that was going on. It looked like she’d roped Liss and Annabelle into volunteering with her today.

  Pa sat at the table and sipped his watery coffee, while I put some porridge on the stove.

  ‘Want some?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Well I’m making you some anyway,’ I replied. ‘You have to eat.’

  He nodded vaguely.

  ‘Did the copters get back?’ I asked. ‘Did they spot them?’

  Pa shook his head. ‘I didn’t expect them to. FJ’s not stupid. He’ll have his army marching through the woods, under cover where we can’t see them.’

  ‘They’ll have to come out sometime,’ I replied.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s catching them when they do. They’re sneaky buggers.’

  ‘What do you need me to do today?’ I asked. ‘Are we on track? D’you think we’ll be safe enough in here?’

  ‘Truthfully?’ he replied. ‘I don’t know. All we can do is keep up with the prepping. We should have done a lot more a lot earlier. The type of warfare we’re facing takes years of planning, not days.’ He closed his eyes for a moment.

  ‘So what can I do? Shall I help Luc out with . . .’

  ‘. . . Eddie and Luc left early on a supply run.’

  ‘What? They’ve left t
he perimeter?’ My head swam at the news. It had been okay when Luc and I were outside together. But now he was out there without me. If anything happened . . .

  ‘Eddie heard some chatter on the radio.’ Pa interrupted my worries. ‘Something about a trading convoy travelling east of Christchurch. He thought it was worth a shot to try and track them down. Seems to think he can get to them before lunchtime. If they’re trading decent food supplies, it’ll be worth paying over the odds to get the lot. We might need it if we get . . . trapped in here for a while.’

  ‘What time did they leave?’ I asked.

  ‘Bout fiveish this morning.’

  I did a quick calculation in my head. That meant they’d been on the road for about two and a half hours already. They should have caught up to the convoy by now and then it could take two or three more hours to negotiate a deal and load up the trucks. Then another two hours to drive home. Hopefully they should be back by 2 pm at the latest. I would have to swallow my fear and get busy to take my mind off it.

  I had an idea of my own I wanted to try and I couldn’t work out whether it was completely stupid or whether it was genius. I was originally going to run it past Luc first, but now I’d have to tell Pa instead.

  ‘Can I borrow the horse box trailer and your AV?’ I asked.

  ‘Why? What for?’

  ‘I’ve got a plan.’

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Jamie

  ‘You are sure this is the one?’ The Voice of the Father asked the guards.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ one of them replied with a subservient nod.

  In the hallway of a very grand and impressive house, Matthew scrutinized Jamie through narrowed eyes. Jamie recognised the disciple, but apparently Matthew did not recognise him.

  ‘If it is you, you look well,’ Matthew said. ‘Very well indeed. Stronger. Unrecognisable from the wretch you once were. Are you the one who came here as ‘Jamie’?’