The Kirkfallen Stopwatch

by J. A. Henderson

  D.B. backtracked and got in front of him.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m going after Potter.” Edward’s voice was flat.

  “Don’t be stupid, man. You wouldn’t get near him!”

  “Stand aside before I shoot you.”

  “No. You’re going to beat Potter.” D.B. refused to move “You can only do that if you stay in command. If you stay alive.”

  “Get out of my Goddamned way!”

  Emily hesitantly raised her gun. She was watching an unstoppable force coming up against an immovable object and wasn’t about to let it come to a bloody conclusion.

  “For God’s sake!” she implored. “There are other kids on this island and they need you both to save them.”

  “I don’t care about the other kids!” Edward wailed. “I only cared about mine!”

  “Then it’s time you CHANGED!”

  Edward’s whole body was shaking. His jaw worked silently, eyes pinpoints of hate. He lashed out with his fist and caught D.B. Salty in the mouth.

  Dan staggered back but didn’t fall.

  “You want to commit suicide, go ahead, but my daughter is on this island too.” He wiped blood from his lip. “Where is she?”

  Edward looked down at his fist. It was clenched so tightly that blood had begun to drip from the palm.

  “Please help save my child, Mr Stapleton,” Emily pleaded.

  “I’ll take you to her,” Edward said finally. “But it won’t do any good.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that chopper was the only advantage we had and our one way off the island.”

  He wiped his hand down his tunic smearing blood across the khaki uniform.

  “Without it none of us stand a chance.”

  56

  Kirkfallen Island

  Deep Singh ran behind the children, egging them on. The smallest were the luckiest - too young to understand what was happening and light enough to carry. Spurred by the desire to keep their little ones safe, the mothers had outdistanced the others, jogging along at an unrelenting pace.

  The group had been overtaken by the first villagers out of Kirkfallen and the men hoisted the six year olds onto their shoulders to speed up the column. The rest of the kids were still strung out in a line, the twelve year olds manhandling their younger companions along, using a mixture of pleas and threats to keep them moving. They knew now this was no movie.

  Deep kept scanning the hills to their right. The troops guarding the helicopters had started off further north than his juvenile band and could move far more quickly. If they got to the high ground, the line of sobbing youngsters would be picked off like ducks at a carnival. The fight had gotten too intense for him to believe they would be spared.

  The Stopwatch Unit now toted guns they had lifted from fallen soldiers but they were still at a huge disadvantage in terms of firepower and numbers. And there were more of Potter’s men stationed at the Fence.

  Deep knew that, right now, they would be preparing to repel the rag-tag army - and the only way onto Jackson Head was through their defences. He cursed his Commander for trapping them in this dead end, but now there was nowhere else to go.

  Edward Stapleton reached the western end of the village, with D.B and Emily close behind. Sonja Watt and Annie Stapleton were sprawled, face down, between two haystacks. Edward skidded to a halt.

  “That’s my wife and second and second in command.”

  Emily bit her lip.

  “Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

  “No need.” Edward lowered himself to the ground. “They’re faking. Get down and pretend you’ve been shot.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it, or you’ll be dead for real. Potter will be concentrating on cutting off the kids. He’s not going to comb the area inspecting bodies.”

  D.B. pulled his wife down. They lay motionless, hand in hand, only yards from Annie Stapleton, whose head was towards the smoking chopper debris.

  Close enough to see her eyes were filled with tears.

  Potter’s army had split into two sections. Red Force was following the children in a direct line, due north. Without the helicopter to hold them back they were gaining fast, loping over the rough terrain like hungry wolves. The more northerly Black Force had reached the foot of the Eastern hills and begun to climb. Another mile and they would be level with the children and on much higher ground.

  Then the moles went into action.

  On the flank of the Eastern Hills, nine sections of thatched grass slid aside, revealing holes cut into the incline. Each depression was large enough to hold one man or woman and they contained the best marksmen in the Unit, armed with the most trustworthy and longest ranging rifles on the poorly stocked island.

  The moles opened fire. The first wave of Potter’s troops were mowed down and the others scuttled for cover, returning fire from prone positions on the grass.

  Potter and Naish roared up in Wolper’s land buggy.

  “Get up there and silence these guns right now!” the Brigadier shouted into his radio.

  The soldiers rose and headed up the slope again. Above them a hail of withering fire sliced through their ranks and they dropped back.

  “The enemy are pretty well entrenched,” Naish entreated. “Can’t we just go round?”

  “Circling the hills will put us too far behind. If the Stopwatches get to that glorified pill box called MacLellan Base, our casualties will be an awful lot higher. And I do not want these men picking us off from the rear when we’re trying to mount an attack.”

  “The kids will never get past the soldiers guarding the Fence.”

  “You think not?” Potter pulled the glasses from his face and furiously wiped mud from them. His face was spotted with angry, red insect bites. “I underestimated my enemy once. I won’t be doing it again.”

  His troops were making short, zig zagging runs up the hill, searching for any scrap of cover. There wasn’t much. The villagers had removed any rocks they could have hidden behind months ago, under the pretence that they were clearing land for cultivation.

  But sheer numbers began to tell. Though their casualties were high, Potter’s men slowly gained ground, until they were almost on top of the Stopwatch’s defences. The leading men pulled grenades from their belts and flung them at the enemy.

  Great wads of earth flew into the air and thick grey smoke drifted down the slope. When it settled, the hill above was silent.

  The troops advanced.

  But the fight wasn’t over. Each Stopwatch position had a narrow hole bored several feet into the hill. As the grenades arced towards them, the defenders had slid down into the crevasse. Now they emerged and began shooting again.

  “Sweet Lord!” Naish moaned. “They’re unkillable.”

  “We should never have got rid of them.” Potter couldn’t keep the admiration out of his voice. “Edward Stapleton should be a Goddamned General.”

  He lifted the radio.

  “One last push, boys! They’re on their last legs.”

  But it took another twenty minutes to finally overrun the positions. When the fight was over, the hillside was a mass of churned up mud and gore and at least forty of Potter’s men were dead.

  “We’re not gonna catch the main Stopwatch body now.”

  “I know.” The Brigadier got back on his radio again. “Red Force, what’s your status?”

  “We’re right behind the children and encountering fierce resistance,” the radio squawked back. “They’re moving north along a gulley and every time we catch up another two or three adults fall back from the group and mount a rear-guard action. By the time we kill them, the main column has moved another few hundred yards.”

  “Can you stop them before they reach Jackson Head?”

  “When they get there, they won’t have any adults left.” The disembodied voice sounded miserable and apologetic. “But with the fight they’re putting up, there’s a good chance they will make it
.”

  “Keep pushing. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He switched channels and contacted his forces stationed at the Fence.

  “Yellow Troop. The Stopwatch Unit are heading your way. Report.”

  “We’re dug in and waiting, Sir.” A different voice this time. “They won’t get past us.”

  “What about MacLellan Base?”

  “The enemy have possession but there’s only one door and I have men covering it. We can’t get in but they can’t get out.”

  The voice sounded confident enough.

  “That threat is definitely contained.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” The Colonel snapped off his radio and slid back into the driver’s seat of the buggy.

  “Let’s get to Jackson Head ASAP.”

  Edward Stapleton held his wife while she wept.

  “I told you not to let Gene go,” she sobbed. “I’ll never forgive you.”

  Emily, Sonja Watt and D.B. stood to one side trying not to watch.

  “Annie.” Edward Stapleton pushed his wife back and tried to wipe away her tears. “There are twenty two children running for their lives out there. And they’re not going to make it without our help.”

  Annie Stapleton wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve. Her eyes were red rimmed and her greying hair fell in curling locks over her forehead. Then, suddenly, the tears were gone.

  “I’m going to kill Potter,” she said. “I’m going to kill all his men.”

  “Get the buggies.” Edward said to Sonja Watt. “We’re the cavalry now.”

  A murderous look crossed his face.

  “Where’s Colin Walton?”

  “We got separated.” Sonja walked over to the nearest haystack. “Or maybe he thought we were really dead. I saw him heading north, parallel to the kids.”

  Instead of stopping she pushed her way through the straw barrier. An engine burst to life and one of the three land buggies emerged from the interior of the haystack.

  “You and Emily, get in.” Edward turned to D.B. “I take it you know how to drive, if my Second in Command gets hit?”

  Sonja Watt coughed in indignation.

  “Got no points on my licence.” D.B. was staring at the buggy. “In fact, I don’t have a licence at all.”

  “I’ll drive the other one.” Annie headed for the next haystack. “I’ve got a lot of pent up anger I need to get rid of.”

  Seconds later she emerged, straw sticking from the wheel rims and roll bars like some giant porcupine. Edward climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Head up the west coast. The land is flat and there are no enemy positions. We should reach the Fence just before the kids do.”

  “And then what?”

  “Potter’s men are in for the shock of their lives.”

  57

  Kirkfallen Island

  The buggies raced up the coastline and onto Pittenhall ridge. The sky was cobalt blue and the Atlantic Ocean breathed sighs of ageless power as it swelled and pushed against the rocks below. Edward raised field glasses to his eyes.

  To the east, the line of children was approaching the Fence. There were almost no adults left and the older children had armed themselves in anticipation of one last fight. Behind the column, flashes peppered the grass where a dwindling batch of the Stopwatch Unit held back the troops following the convoy.

  Potter’s Yellow Troop had dug in beside the Fence on the Jackson Head side. There had to be at least thirty of them. Deep Sing held up a hand and the children gratefully halted, collapsing onto the mossy turf, holding their sides and gasping for breath.

  To reach the MacLellan Base they would have to get past the barrier and the men behind it. And the only way through was a narrow gate. Sing pulled out his walkie talkie.

  “We’re trapped, Commander Stapleton. Can’t go back and can’t go forward. I request permission to surrender.”

  “Hold the pursuers off for five minutes more. That’s all I ask.” Edward handed his wife the glasses.

  “You were right.” Annie stood up in her seat, training the binoculars on Yellow Troop. “They dug in behind the Fence.”

  “Never do the obvious, Brigadier Potter.” Edward sneered. “No matter how sound a tactical move it seems. Ploughman one and two?”

  “Here, Sir.” The voice was high and frightened and instantly recognisable.

  “Poppy?” Edward gave a start. “What the hell are you doing on the air?”

  “Ploughman one is dead.” The teenager struggled to keep the fear from her voice. “He was killed defending the MacLellan Base. I’m his replacement.”

  Annie put her hand on her husband’s arm and shook her head.

  “For Christ sakes, Poppy?” She leaned over and spoke into the radio. “Isn’t there anyone else?”

  “I’m already in place, Mrs Stapleton. I know what to do.”

  “Dammit, Eddie!” Annie slammed a fist against the wheel of the land buggy. “She’s only a child!”

  Edward Stapleton hesitated. But only for a second.

  “Poppy? Take down that barrier.”

  “We’re on it.”

  Poppy and Kyoko Hayashida – the last of the moles - squirmed along the tunnel that led from MacLellan Base to a narrow cave just below the top of the northern cliffs, pulled themselves over the lip and crawled onto the promontory. Their faces and hands were blackened and sea grass was threaded through their hair.

  At either end of Jackson Head were the two rusty tractors, seemingly abandoned. In fact, they had been positioned with military precision. Poppy and Kyoko slid through the scrub brush on their bellies until they were under each vehicle.

  Deep Sing and the older children had spread out and were lying in the grass, shooting at Yellow Troop. The soldiers returned fire.

  While the enemy were occupied, the ‘ploughmen’ slid to the rear of the tractors and fastened cables to the tow hooks. The thick wires ran back to either end of the Fence, where they were attached to supports at the bottom. Both cables had been coated with pitch and then rolled in grass until they were perfectly camouflaged. Snaking through the tufted terrain they were undetectable.

  Edward spoke into his radio again.

  “Wentworth. The ploughmen are in place.”

  “About damned time.” In the depths of MacLellan Base, Wentworth Watt sounded more afraid than angry. “Is my wife….?”

  “She’s alive and with me. Get ready.”

  Edward reached out and squeezed Annie’s hand.

  “Ploughmen go!”

  Poppy and Kyoko swung into the tractors, pulled keys from their pockets and stuck them in the ignition slot. The vehicles burst into life, dirty black smoke erupting from the funnels. The ploughmen hauled heavy feed bags from under the seats and dumped them on the accelerator pedals.

  At the Fence, Yellow Troop had forgotten the children and now concentrated their firepower on the tractors. Poppy and Kyoko ducked down and returned fire with handguns.

  The tractors surged forwards and the steel cables went taut. The Fence shivered, as if buffeted by a high wind. Soldiers raced to either end of the barrier and tried to detach the cables - but the steel ropes were stretched taut and couldn’t be moved.

  Gouts of mud fountained from the tractor’s wheels as they strained against the cables. The Fence lurched up a few feet.

  All of Yellow troop were firing at the farm vehicles now. The men guarding the MacLellan entrance abandoned their positions and headed for the tractors. As soon as they moved, two of the Stopwatch Unit appeared in the doorway and cut them down, before vanishing back inside. The Fence gave another lurch and one end shot out of the earth.

  “Ploughmen take cover!” Edward barked. “Wentworth. Hit the switch.”

  Poppy and Kyoko leapt from the tractors. Poppy landed hands first, rolling into a ball with her arms over her head. Kyoko Hayashida was caught, mid-air, in a storm of bullets. She hung like a bloody, battered kite, before plunging to the ground. The tractors roared forwar
ds, only feet from the cliff edge and the entire Fence was pulled from the earth.

  Inside MacLellan Base, Wentworth Watt slammed a lever into the wall.

  Ten thousand volts of electricity brought the barrier to life for the first time in many years, showers of sparks cartwheeling from the mesh. The tractors burst into flames as they toppled over the cliff top.

  Yellow Troop sprang to their feet, but there was nowhere to run. The Fence rattled along the ground, scooping the soldiers up in a crackling net and frying them instantly.

  “Shut down!” Edward commanded.

  Wentworth Watt pulled the lever back and the current ceased. The Fence hit MacLellan Base and wrapped itself round the structure as the tractors plunged towards the ocean. The cables snapped, the tractors hit the water and the Fence sank to the earth, a harmless jumble of steel and charred remains.

  Deep Sing leapt to his feet and urged the children forwards. They raced across the last few hundred yards, firing as they went. The few survivors of Yellow troop, disoriented and outnumbered, didn’t stand a chance. The children reached the door of the MacLellan Facility and pushed their way inside – the defenders herding the stragglers into the interior.

  “Move out.”

  Edward took no pleasure in the victory. The other children might be safe but his own son was dead. For the first time in his life he was glad that he didn’t feel as much as other people. But it still hurt so much he could hardly breathe.

  The land buggies rolled across Pittenhall Ridge and headed for MacLellan Base, Black Troop still too far away to stop them.

  Then another buggy appeared, cresting the hill to the east, heading straight towards them. Edward trained his field glasses on the vehicle.

  Brigadier Potter was driving. As much as Edward hated the man, the officer’s tenacity was undeniable.

  In the back were four soldiers armed with machine guns, harnessed by ropes to the roll bars, bouncing like marionettes as the vehicle raced over dips and hillocks.