He crunched broken glass underfoot and kicked loose tins. He didn’t look down, just in front, unfazed by the noise he was making. Towards the back of the shop there was a pharmacy and a bakery.
Scott looked in on the bakery; he saw a few dead men and women on the floor. He spotted someone lying dead on top of a load of strewn baskets – his throat ripped apart. A baker appeared to be skewered to his ovens by a load of knives. One of which had been rammed through his throat.
The pharmacy was a different story – it was clear of dead bodies. Scott went behind the counter and looked for something they could use for Maria’s wounds. Most of the shelving was bare, apart from a few useless items. He opened drawers and cupboards, finding very little.
He looked under the counter and found a large green bag with a big red cross on it.
“Bingo,” he said, and smiled.
But his smile was short-lived, as he felt the iciness of a muzzle against the side of his temple.
“Don’ fuckin’ move, pal. Or I’ll spill fuckin’ brains all over the floor, right, pal?”
Scott said nothing; just waited for the bullet to come spiralling out from the barrel of the gun that was pressed tight against his head and smash through his skull.
“You got company out front, soldier boy?” he demanded, pressing the muzzle tighter still against Scott.
“Yes, a woman and two children. Don’t hurt them, hurt me.”
The gun was suddenly pulled from Scott’s head, and the relief of pressure was soothing.
The gunman loomed over, poking his face into Scott’s. He smiled. “I’m not going to kill anyone, pal.”
He’s no more than a kid, Scott thought. His face was boyish, lacking any sort of stubble. His hair was cut short – skinhead-like.
“Then what do you want?” Scott felt his temper rise, and wanted to smash the kid’s silly, grinning face in for scaring him like he had.
“We’re just turning the place over, pal – looting, is all.”
“Then get what you want, and fuck off,” Scott spat.
“Aye, we will be, pal.”
Scott went to get up, but the gun was back in his face.
“Just stay where yer is, pal, and you won’t get a bullet in yer.”
“I thought you didn’t want to hurt anyone?”
“I don’, just keeping you covered until the boys out back signal me.”
Half a dozen minutes passed until Scott heard a new voice close by.
“Jim, if you’re in here, let’s get going, man.”
“There you go,” the gunman said to Scott. “That wasn’t long to wait, was it?” He grinned nervously, looking behind him as he backed away from Scott. “Don’t go following us, or we will shoot ya, pal – and the women.”
Then he was gone. Slipped behind an aisle and out the back door to the rest of his buddies. Scott could hear them whooping as their car spun out of the parking area.
Maria and the children, Scott thought, springing to his feet and grabbing the first aid kit from the floor at his side as he did so. He ran down the aisle he had come up, and out the front door of the shop. He could see Maria cowered in her seat. Dafydd was out of the car, a piece of wood in his hands. There was no sign of the gunman, or his crew.
“What did they do,” Scott shouted over to Dafydd.
The youngster turned to Scott, tears running down his eyes.
“They scared Maria, Amy and Gypsy, who was barking like mad at them,” he said. “They went around the car kicking and punching it, before they were stopped by a man coming out of the shop with a gun. He looked no older than me.”
How commendable of the little fuck, Scott thought of the gunman. If we catch up with them again, I’ll kill the bastards. Just because I’m a soldier, it doesn’t mean I have to think like one all the time.
“Here,” Scott said, throwing the first aid kit over to the boy. “Give it to Maria. She can clean herself up while I get you and Amy to the toilets.”
“You sure it’s safe in there?” Dafydd wanted to know.
“Yes, definitely,” Scott reassured. “Just try not to look at the dead bodies. It’s pretty disturbing.”
Dafydd handed Maria the first aid kit and she waved Scott a thanks. Amy got out of the car and joined Dafydd’s side. They walked over to Scott, and all ventured into the shop.
*
Ten minutes later the three of them emerged from the shop. Scott was out in front, leading them back to the car with his gun drawn. They all got in, and found a dosed and bandaged Maria. She was weeping again.
“What’s wrong,” Amy wanted to know from the back.
“Jeff,” she muffled out. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“Hey, come on,” Scott said, putting a hand to her shoulder. “We…”
Maria gave him a ferocious look, cutting his words dead. He faced front, started the car and said nothing, realising she was very upset.
He got the Mondeo as close to the dock as he could, not wanting them to have to walk a great distance. When they were down by the boats, Scott could see a few trawlers tied up. The first few he searched didn’t have a key, but the sixth one he searched did.
“Over here,” he called to Maria and the children. “Quick.”
None of them had any gear with them to pack onto the boat; just themselves.
“Are you sure you know how to drive one of these things, then?” Dafydd asked.
“Yes, I did a little bit of time in the Royal Navy.”
“But you are army, like.”
“Yes, I know, but I started out in the Navy. Just didn’t like it.”
“Ahh, I see.”
Amy and Gypsy went and sat down in the boat’s cabin area. They were followed by Maria. Dafydd and Scott set about getting the boat ready for sail.
“Do you think we will be alright, Maria?” Amy said.
Maria looked over at the youngster, eyes streaming, and said nothing. Her silence was deafening.
“Maria, please talk to me. I…” Amy trailed off, seeing it was no good talking to her.
“Right, we’re ready for the off,” Scott said, starting the engine and powering the ship out of the dock. He switched on the radio, and tried getting through to someone on Ronaldson. But they were too far out just yet.
“When we get there, we will all be scanned for the virus. It’ll take time, and you could get separated. But don’t worry, you’ll all be able to be with each other again once it has been clarified that you are healthy.”
“How do you know that then?” Dafydd asked Scott.
The gentle rocking of the boat on the choppy water sent Amy to sleep. Maria watched the two men chatting.
“I’ve been involved in outbreak situations before. Not in this country, but in others in the world. Don’t worry, you will be safe there, you all will. No matter what you have heard about the army.”
Dafydd didn’t bother responding to that, and instead looked over at Maria. He felt so sorry for her. She had got close to Jeff once again, much closer than himself or Amy. Of course, he knew what it was like to lose someone close. The death of his family would stay with him forever.
His gaze shifted to Amy, who had her head rested against Gypsy. She was sleeping. He smiled.
He sat back in his seat and let the motion of the rocking boat soothe him as he looked out of the window. There was a storm brewing far out to sea. Storm clouds had gathered and were heading their way.
“Have you seen that over there,” Dafydd said to Scott.
“What, where?”
“There.” Dafydd pointed out the window.
Scott looked, saw it raging in from the west. “We should be fine. Another few minutes and we are going to be at Ronaldsay.”
Scott picked up the handle to the boat’s radio, and sent out an SOS signal to the military on Ronaldsay Island.
“Mayday, mayday, this is Private Scott Rhoades. I’m on a small vessel heading to the island of Ronaldsay just off the coast of John O’Gro
ats. I have three civilians: one child, one teenage boy, a female that requires medical attention and a dog. Over.”
They waited for a few moments. Nothing came back but dead static.
“Maybe it’s got them too,” Dafydd said, his eerie assumption setting a damp chill in Scott’s bones.
“No, it can’t have! They would have been well protected. Prepared. The island is deserted; they knew that before going there. No, there has to be another reason – an explanation as to why they are not picking up radio—”
“We read you, Private. Over.”
“What are your instructions? Over.”
“Approach the island from the east side; we will have men there awaiting your arrival, over.”
“Okay, over and out,” Scott said, replacing the handle.
“Did you hear that, Maria? We’re going to be saved. It’s all over.”
She smiled at the youngster. “That’s good.”
Amy slowly woke up to all the excitement. “Wh…wh…what’s going on?”
“Scott just had the army on the radio – we’re going to be safe!” Dafydd said, and whooped. So did Amy.
Scott steered the boat to the left, and soon the island came into view. Amy got to her feet, and Gypsy jumped off her lap. “Look,” she squealed, pointing out the front window.
What looked like an armada of ships and boats were slowly sailing into the makeshift dock of Ronaldsay. The navy had a few heavy battleships further out to sea and helicopters circled above. The nightmare was over, and refuge had been found; sanctuary was theirs.
Maria sank in her seat as she watched the other two celebrating. She smiled, knowing she could not join in with them. She rolled her left sleeve up, and looked at the large bites marks there. Jeff had given them to her in the struggle on the plane; a farewell gift between two friends. She sat back, sobbed, and let the sickness begin…
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