“Right, I don’t think I’m forgetting anything, do you two?”
“No,” Amy said.
Dafydd shook his head.
Then Maria heard the plane motors whirring out in the fields – they were back, and she could stop worrying about whether they would or not. She looked out the window and saw Jeff, June and James all running toward the house. Her heart started to pound.
The look on Jeff’s face said it all – danger.
“What’s wrong?” Amy asked. “Are they back, then?”
Maria didn’t move, didn’t speak – she couldn’t take her eyes off Jeff’s face.
“Maria?” This time Dafydd.
Amy and Dafydd got up from their seats and flanked Maria. They watched as the three outside rushed to the house, with Jeff getting there first. He burst through the door, almost out of breath.
“What’s wrong?” Maria asked, terror in her voice. She had her arms around both Amy and Dafydd.
“We think…” He caught his breath. “We think we may have found survivors – lots of them.”
Maria’s eyes widened. “Where?”
“There’s a safety point been set up on one of the Orkney Islands.”
Maria’s mouth went wide, and she whispered, “What?”
“Cool,” Amy said.
Dafydd punched the air, “Yes.”
“Don’t get too excited, it might be nothing. We have to check”
“How do you know this?” Maria asked.
“I found a transmission broadcasting on the plane’s radio.”
June and James came through the door.
“Did he tell you?” June asked.
“Yes,” Maria said.
“I’ll crank up the old wireless, see if I can pick up the signal,” James said.
They all followed James into the living room, and watched as he switched on the old radio. June shut and locked the door before joining the others. By then, James was easing his way through the radio bands, finding only dead, hissing air.
“Damn it,” James said.
“Maybe it was because we were up high,” Jeff said.
“Maybe,” James agreed.
Then James went passed something that sounded like a voice far off in the distance, muffled by static. He turned the dial back slowly and found it. A voice became clearer, until eventually they could hear what was being said:
“This is not a recording. This is being broadcast today – the 19th of June. The time, 10.00 A.M. My name is Ray Ford, and I’m a Captain with the British army. I have set-up a small post on the Island of South Ronaldsay, just off the coast of Scotland. I have fifty men here under my command, including doctors and medical staff. We are well armed and stocked. We have word that the virus has spread from Britain, and has entered France, Spain and Germany. We are calling all survivors to come here. Many have already made it here, and are being treated. There are no infected in this camp. Everyone that makes it to this outpost will be checked for the disease. Please, if you can hear this transmission, come to us. We will not harm you, I repeat, we will not harm you.”
The radio went quiet; the Captain had stopped speaking.
“Well,” Jeff said, turning to Maria. “What do you think?”
“I think we should head over there right now, we’d be stupid not to, right?”
“Aye, I agree, lassie,” James said.
“But what if they do mean us harm?” June said.
“It’s the army,” Dafydd said.
The room fell quiet as they all thought about it. The silence was broken by Amy. “I saw them kill people in my street, and not just sick people.”
“My God,” June said.
“And there was that unhinged soldier at the airport,” Jeff said.
“We don’t know he was crazy,” Maria said. “He could have been sick.”
“What’s that about a mad soldier?” James asked.
“We were attacked at Cardiff airport by a man wearing military clothes – he was using a gun, which made me believe he wasn’t sick,” Jeff explained.
“Bloody hell. If we can’t trust the army, then who can we trust? I mean, killing innocent people?” James said.
“I think we need to trust them. What else are we going to do?” Maria asked.
The Captain’s voice kicked back in: “This is not a recording…”
Chapter 16
Jeff was the first to finish his breakfast, putting his knife and fork down on his plate in an X shape.
“That was lovely, thanks, Maria,” he said, burping but stifling it with a closed fist. “Pardon.”
“That’s okay, I’m glad you enjoyed it. It’s been a while since I cooked an English breakfast.”
Jeff looked over to June, who was feeding Gyps a few remaining scraps of her meal. His sister was looking older, he thought, much older than the last time he had seen her a few years back, when Kathryn and he had vacationed there. June’s hair had gray creeping in at the sides; her face had adopted a multitude of lines and wrinkles.
“What do you think we should do, June?” Jeff asked.
June straightened from feeding Gypsy and looked over at Jeff, who was stretched out in his seat.
“I think wee Maria is right; we should make for Ronaldsay first thing tomorrow morning.”
“It’s a risk, though,” Jeff said.
“A risk worth taking, I think,” Maria said.
James nodded his head in agreement, his mouth full. But that didn’t stop him from talking. “We could always go and check it out, see what’s what there.”
Jeff seemed to consider this for a moment.
“And if we don’t like what we see, then we can take the plane and fly out of there, and do what we talked about last night, Jeff,” James said.
“Okay,” Jeff said. “What about your neighbours?”
“What about them?” James asked.
“Are we still going to take them?”
“Well, aye. You and I will go over there later, get them over here,” James said.
“I think it’s a bit late for that, James, dear,” June said.
“Nonsense, woman,” James said.
This made Dafydd and Amy smile.
“Okay, suit yourselves, then.”
“Maybe she’s right, James,” Jeff said. “It is almost four.”
“Ho-ho! I guess I can’t take on siblings,” James said, laughing loudly, his cheeks going red. “First light then.”
“Okay,” Jeff said. “I didn’t think we’d be out flying so long.”
“I’ll pack up all the food we have here, plus whatever else we may need,” June said.
“I’d better get that fuel in the plane,” Jeff said. “We might not make it to the Orkneys on what’s left in the tank.”
“Andrew has fuel on his farm, if we need more,” James said.
“Does he?” Jeff said.
“Yes, he keeps drums of the stuff for his tractors and machinery,” James said.
“That’ll be handy,” Jeff said.
“Right, best get these dishes washed and put back out of the way,” June said.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Maria said.
“Me too,” Amy said.
“I’m off outside to chop us some wood for the fire,” James said. “You men coming with?” he asked Jeff and Dafydd.
“Yes,” Jeff said.
Dafydd nodded.
*
James led Jeff and Dafydd out to a field behind the house. Dafydd had his father’s bolt-action with him, and Jeff had the SA80. But the area was quiet, and they had not seen a sick person since leaving Cardiff a day ago. It was literarily ‘dead’ here.
Behind the house was a garden, where a great oak tree stood. It stretched wooden limbs over the chopping blocks, which were basically old tree stumps. An axe stood by the side of one of them. To the left, stacked against the wall making up the perimeter of the garden, was a pile of wood, all cut into chunky sections ready to be split.
“I
’ll go and get another axe. Why don’t you make a start, Jeff?” James said.
“What am I going to do?” Dafydd wanted to know.
“Why, you have the most important job of all,” James said. “You get to keep watch over us with your gun, lad.”
“Great,” Dafydd said, huffing.
“Hey, come on,” Jeff said. “It’s not all that bad. Would you prefer to be washing dishes with a load of giggling women?” Jeff asked.
“Now you put it like that, like, maybe it ain’t that bad.”
“I thought as much.”
Jeff walked over to the axe, and took it in his hands.
“Right, just keeps your eyes peeled, okay, Dafydd?” Jeff said.
“Of course I will, mun,” Dafydd said, taking the gun from his shoulder. “Not like we are going to get attacked, is it? It’s bloody dead around here.”
“Just keep your eyes peeled.”
Dafydd saluted Jeff, “Aye-aye, Cap’n,” he said, and they both laughed.
Jeff grabbed one of the lumps of wood, standing it upright on the stump before him, and cut it clean in half with the axe. James approached them with an axe of his own and joined Jeff in chopping the wood.
After twenty minutes of cutting, Jeff’s shirt was saturated with sweat, and he was starting to breathe heavy. He leant the axe against the stump and took five minutes.
“You okay there, Jeff, mate?”
“Yeah, just a little out of wind.”
“Maybe you should give the lad a wee go, and take a few minutes on guard duty?” James suggested.
Dafydd’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, come on, Jeff. Come and have five minutes, you’re not as young as you used to be.” He smirked. James sniggered.
“You cheeky…I’m not that old!” Jeff protested.
“Yeah-yeah,” Dafydd said.
“Hey, why don’t you go and get us something to drink?” James suggested. “Just go and ask June, lad. Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll give us some of her famous ginger ale.”
“That sounds good,” Jeff said.
“Yeah, she keeps bottles of the stuff in the cellar. It should be ice-cold.”
“I’ll go now,” Dafydd said.
“Okay,” Jeff said, but then thought about it. “Maybe I should come with you, just in case anything happens.”
“No, I’ll be fine, honest. You two stay here, I won’t be long.”
They watched Dafydd as he headed toward the house, his gun ready for action.
“That’s one brave young man,” James said.
“I agree. Poor boy lost his father in Cardiff,” Jeff said. He filled James in on the whole story. “He won’t tell us the rest of his story, not sure he ever will.”
“It’s understandable. Poor lad. Never mind – he has us now.”
“I guess so,” Jeff said.
“We have to make it to Ronaldsay. I honest to God think we’ll all be safe there, that this nightmare will be over, Jeff.”
“I’d love to think that you’re right, James, really I would.”
“But?”
“But I’ve seen so many terrible things the past few days, unjust things. I’m not sure I entirely trust the army, especially knowing they are to blame for this bloody virus getting loose in the first place.”
“True. But I don’t see any other options, Jeff.”
“I know, you’re right, I know you are. And that’s why I sided with you all earlier.”
James placed a huge hand on Jeff’s shoulder and said, “Good man.”
Dafydd was on his way back, bottles of drink in his hands. He was smiling, and shouting something, but neither Jeff or James could make out what the youngster was trying to tell them.
Behind Dafydd, less than a hundred feet, was a gangly man wearing bib and braces. In his hands he held a shovel.
“Jesus,” James said. “Dafydd, get over here, now!”
“Quick,” Jeff screamed, his lungs burning.
Dafydd realised something was wrong. He turned around to see the infected man closing the gap between them. Dropping the bottles, he readied his bolt-action.
“No!” Jeff shouted. “Get over here, now!”
James ran to the boy, axe in hand.
Dafydd dropped the hammer on the rifle, which clicked. Jammed.
“Fuck,” he said, turning to run. He ran directly into James, knocking himself backwards onto his arse.
“Get up, and get over to Jeff!” James yelled. “Now!”
As the infected ambled closer, James saw that it was Andrew MacDouglas from the farm across the way. Andrew had deep slashes across his face, which were pissing blood. Most of his hair had fallen out, and his hands were cut to ribbons. The handle to a pair of scissors jutted from his left shoulder, and gunshot wounds were visible in his left thigh – the reason for his slow gait.
“Andrew?” James said. “Andrew?” he repeated.
Andrew responded by opening his mouth wide – pillars of saliva stretched from one side of his parted lips to the other. Strings of the stuff slid out of his gob, soaking into the material of his dungarees. He swung the shovel over his shoulder, ready to smash it into James’ face.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Jeff said. “Kill it!”
James couldn’t do it – he’d known Andrew since moving up here, and so backed away, but not wuickly enough. He took the spade to the jaw, and it floored him.
Jeff rushed over to Andrew with his axe, but missed with his swing and took a hit from the shovel to the base of his skull. Jeff went to ground, but he was not out cold. He tried getting up, but repeated blows to the back from Andrew gave him little opportunity. James appeared to be out cold, and wouldn’t be coming to the rescue.
Dafydd arrived at Andrew’s side and smashed the butt of his gun into the man’s temple. Andrew’s knees buckled and he collapsed, giving Jeff and James time to recover. Jeff stood over the fallen Andrew. He drove his axe into the man’s gut. Jeff kept his mouth closed as blood sprayed across his face. He tried to pull his axe free, but it was stuck. James came to his side, now with little sympathy, and pounded Andrew in the chest with the axe, then again in the neck. Jeff finally managed to free the axe,, and made the final blow to the thing’s face.
“If this has happened to Andrew, then God knows what he has done to his family,” James said. “Or if they are even okay.”
“We better get over there, now,” Jeff said.”
James agreed.
*
After taking Dafydd back to the house, and explaining to the women what had happened, James and Jeff headed out over to the MacDouglas place on foot, instead of taking James’ car; it would have taken them longer as they would have had to drive miles to get there. This way they could just cut through the fields.
They crossed a large meadow between James’ house and Andrew’s place. Nothing seemed to move, apart from crows here and there. Some could be seen resting on a scarecrow, screeching and cawing as the two men passed by. A tractor stood motionless in the field, its driver slumped over the steering wheel – his face turned away from them. Crows had gathered on the farmer’s hunched back and the bonnet of the tractor.
“Think we should check it out?” James asked.
“Maybe. Do you know him?”
“It could be one of the MacDouglas boys, and he could be hurt.”
“Ok,” Jeff said.
They walked over to the old, gray Ferguson tractor. Jeff had his gun out in front of him, while James had his wife’s shotgun. Slowly they moved through the almost waist-high grass, their hearts slamming against their chests.
Jeff reached the man first, poking the muzzle of his gun into the guy’s side, which disturbed the birds and sent them flying skyward. The farmer didn’t move.
James went around to the man’s other side, allowing him to see the unblinking eyes of the dead farmer. There were holes in his cheek, and most of his lips had been eaten away by the birds. Teeth and part of his tongue were visible through the pec
ked holes.
“Jesus. How long has he been here?” Jeff said.
“Not sure,” James said, looking into the thing’s milky eyes. “Days, I would have said.”
“Wonder what killed him? I don’t see a mortal wound of any sort, do you?” Jeff said.
“No,” James said, moving his eyes over the body, before going back to the face and seeing the dead farmer’s eyes. Shut.. “Huh!” was all James had time to say. He stumbled backwards, his legs tangling as he went.
The thing flew out of its seat on the tractor and jumped down onto James. Jeff heard James wail on the other side. He ran around the vehicle to find James holding the thing at bay with the shotgun: James had it pressed against the thing’s throat as it clawed at the air, trying to scratch James’ eyeballs out.
Jeff didn’t hesitate. He pressed the muzzle of his gun to the side of the thing’s skull. He fired a single shot. The bullet exited the other side of the thing’s head, and it slumped down onto James.
James rolled the body off him and jumped to his feet.
“Did you see that, Jeff! Did you? For Christ’s sake – it was playing possum. How could it do that? They can’t!”
“Nothing shocks me anymore, nothing. I told you about the things I have seen them do; they’re getting smarter all the time.”
“How can you be so blasé?”
“I’m not, James. I’ve just accepted it now.”
James huffed and let out a dry laugh.
“Did you know him?” Jeff said.
“It looked like one of Andrew’s helpers. Not sure of the man’s name.”
Jeff nodded, and started moving.
*
Soon they were at Andrew’s home, standing by a large barn. A chilling squeak was coming from within – a generator was running off in the background somewhere.
They entered the large wooden structure to check on the noise, with Jeff leading the way. In front of them, impaled on a hay hook and swinging from one of the beams making up the roof, was a teenage boy. His head hung low, causing his chin to touch his chest; his long hair covered the sides of his face.
“It’s Kai MacDouglas,” James said. “And he looks pretty dead to me.”
“I guess,” Jeff said, making his way over to the swinging body. Blood trickled out of the bottom of the boy’s left trouser leg, spitting at the hay covered floor. “This happened pretty recently,” Jeff said.
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