Arrowland

by Paul Kane

  Approaching thirty and still a virgin, stuck in a dead-end job as a receptionist with a boss she hated, fancying male employees but never having the courage to ask any of them out. Karen Shipley, hopeless romantic with no-one to lavish her affections on. It had taken most of the population of the planet being wiped out before she stood even the remotest chance with a guy.

  Karen hadn't really wept for anyone during those early stages of the virus, because she didn't have anyone she loved as such - her parents having died in a car accident long before that. Perhaps they'd been the lucky ones? Neville from Human Resources didn't count because he was creepy, and she'd only snogged him under the mistletoe that Christmas because she had given in to the booze at the office party. It had taken her so long to stop him from trailing her around the place that she was almost grateful for the virus... No, that was terrible. Poor Neville. Poor everyone. She didn't like to think the only reason it had happened was so she could actually get herself a man.

  Yet it was looking like that might be a happy by-product. The one ray of sunshine in this whole, stinking mess. It wasn't her fault the virus killed all those people who didn't have O-Neg blood like hers. The more she thought about it, the more it made a kind of sense; it was the duty of those left behind to hook up and try and repopulate the planet, wasn't it? Karen knew exactly who she wanted to start her own particular repopulation with, as well.

  She'd known from the minute she set foot in the village, after being picked up by a scout party from New Hope. Karen had convinced them she had skills they'd find useful - typing counted, right? By the time they discovered she didn't have any specialisms to offer, she'd already made herself indispensable fetching and carrying, working hard on whatever needed to be done. Like the wall and the tunnel, for example; both his ideas. The man she planned to marry someday: Darryl.

  Karen had spotted him as the jeep drew up, younger than her definitely, but extremely hot - especially with his shirt round his waist like that, sweat covering his muscles. He'd noticed the jeep arriving, breaking off from his labours working on the first few sections of the wall, and trotted across to greet the new arrivals. As usual, she'd made a complete arse of herself and tripped over her words. But she'd smiled at him and he'd thrown her one of his casual smiles back. The kind of smile she'd walk a million miles - not just this piddling distance - for.

  That's why you're doing this, she reminded herself every time she felt her feet hurting, or her legs aching. For Darryl. Because he'd volunteered again to do this, but you wouldn't let him. And to keep him safe. To fetch help, making sure those German people didn't get to him and kill him.

  It had been Gwen who'd come up with the notion, who'd wanted to go herself - trusting only Darryl to look after her son, Clive Jr. Karen didn't care much for the bond between Gwen and Darryl, but they had known each other a long time. Plus which, Karen didn't see her as too much of a threat because she was always banging on about that dead father of her child, the guy who'd founded Hope and got himself killed for his trouble. Gwen wanted to slip out again using the tunnel, this time to fetch help from Nottingham Castle even though there was some kind of stupid feud going on between her and the new Robin Hood. "They'll help once I've explained," Gwen had assured everyone. "It's what they do. It's all they do." But Darryl had played the hero again, putting himself forward.

  "You can't, Gwen. We need you here," Darryl had said. "I need you."

  Karen winced inwardly at that one, but chose to read it as he needed her leadership skills. Dammit, even after the hug when he climbed back up through that hole, he still didn't seem to get it. Which was why when Darryl said that he was going instead, Karen had piped up, volunteering herself.

  He'd looked at her oddly, then, like he was seeing her for the first time. "You?"

  "Yes," she said. "Why not? I'm a lot more resourceful than I look, matey. I'm quick and used to walking long distances, have been since I was a kid." The fact she hadn't walked more than a couple of miles in one go during the past ten years was irrelevant.

  Darryl smiled, but wasn't there a tinge of concern there too? Did he realise, just a little bit, that she was doing it for him? Yes, Karen thought that he did. "If you're sure, then?"

  Karen nodded emphatically. "But when I get back, I'll expect another hug," she told him. Probably the boldest thing she'd said or done in her life; even bolder than Neville, and she'd been drunk then.

  Darryl had smiled again, a little awkwardly, but she'd take it. He'd also exchanged glances with Gwen, probably to see whether she was okay with Karen taking this on. Gwen had looked concerned as well, but shrugged. "If you're sure that's what you want. Thanks, Karen."

  So she'd set off, armed with a pistol, carrying a map and torch. Gwen had issued orders and instructions, especially about not being seen as she emerged from the tunnel on the other side of the wall. Karen had nodded, not really taking any of it in; she was too busy watching Darryl in the crowd of people who'd come to see her off. "But most of all, hurry," Gwen said. "We don't know how much longer we can hold them off now Tanek's here. Not to mention the fact that Graham and Andy aren't getting any better." Andy had been badly injured by Tanek's crossbows on the last attack, and now resided with Graham in the surgery. Both were growing weaker by the hour. Karen had nodded, taking at least that much in.

  "Hurry. Got it."

  She'd left amidst the 'thank yous' and 'good lucks', a bit disappointed that Darryl hadn't come across personally to say goodbye. But she knew he'd see her in a different light if she pulled this off. All she had to do was bring back help and she'd be the hero of the hour. Then she'd get that hug and more besides.

  Karen had listened at the trap-door for a good while before opening it, and then only a crack. Once she was certain nobody was about, she'd come up through it and covered the door back over again. Keeping low, she'd moved what she thought had been stealthily. She'd had one scary moment when it looked as if a German soldier had spotted her, but she'd carried on away from the area - away from New Hope - undetected; unscathed. And she had hurried, to begin with. But her lack of fitness soon began to tell on her.

  Nevertheless, she'd trudged on to the main road - then followed it along, keenly aware of what might be coming along it from either direction at any given time. Thankfully tanks and armoured jeeps were quite easy to spot and hide from. Hardly surprising it was on the last leg of the journey that she'd flagged, having to stop every few yards at one point because she was out of breath.

  It was then, as she'd stumbled along one of the smaller roads on the way to Nottingham, that she'd been seen. She hadn't spotted anyone herself - but then, that was what these Rangers were good at, concealing themselves, being urban chameleons. All of a sudden she was confronted by three of Hood's people, all pointing bows and arrows at her.

  "Lose the gun," one told her, and she'd cautiously taken her pistol out of her jeans, tossing it on the floor.

  "I need to see Robert," she'd told the Ranger who'd spoken. "Or Reverend Tate. It's about New Hope - the place is under siege."

  The Rangers exchanged glances and one detached a walkie-talkie from his belt to radio in. The next thing she knew she was being marched up into the city. When she'd complained about how far she'd tramped already, arrangements had been made for a horse to be brought. Karen had never ridden before and it was a strange experience to do it for the first time through the empty streets of Nottingham. The ride seemed to take ages, and just when she thought they'd never get there, she was led up one final street and the castle was in front of them.

  She'd never visited it before, having opted to remain at home the time that Winter Festival had been going on here, probably because Darryl had stayed behind, too. Karen had no idea whether this was the norm, but there didn't appear to be that many Rangers in evidence as she was taken through the gates. She was greeted by a portly man she hadn't seen before, walking with a stick. But she knew immediately who he was from his dog collar. The man who used to live at New Hope, but wh
o Gwen threw out because of his actions. The holy man who'd left her at the castle during De Falaise's reign; who'd coaxed her back and almost got her killed during the Tsar's invasion.

  "Welcome, my child," said the bald fellow. "Welcome to Nottingham Castle. I'm Reverend Tate."

  Karen was helped down off the horse and shook his hand. "Karen Shipley, I'm from New Hope."

  "So I gather. The men here mentioned something about a siege?"

  "Germans are shooting up the place. Gwen told me to tell you Tanek is with them."

  "Tanek? She's certain?"

  "There are injured people, too. Look, I need to see him. Robin... Robert... whatever he prefers to call himself."

  The Reverend sighed, then rubbed his chin.

  "Is he here?"

  There was another pause. "He is, just got back after we managed to get hold of him. But you couldn't have picked a worse moment."

  It was then that Karen noticed the bruises on the holy man's chin and cheek; he'd recently been in a fight, and looked like he'd come off worse. Still, Karen had a mission. "Please, I need to see him."

  Tate nodded and took her up the long path towards the castle. They ascended a set of steps, the Reverend appearing to have trouble with them. Karen took his arm and he thanked her. He led her inside the castle itself through a set of double doors, then up some more stairs and along a corridor. She could hear raised voices even before they reached the room Tate was zeroing in on.

  "...even if you do go," Karen heard someone say, a woman's voice.

  "You read the note." This was a man's voice. "He wants me, Mary. Alone."

  Tate knocked on the door, which was ajar, then pushed on it when he heard: "Who is it?" The woman - Mary, Karen assumed - was speaking again.

  Tate entered first, leaving Karen waiting in the doorway of the small room. "Someone to see Robert."

  Karen could see the pair now, the woman with her dark hair tied back; the man in his trademark greens, that famous hood hanging down at his back. His face was stubbled, as if he'd been away from home for a while. "Can't it wait?" This was Mary once more, looking past Tate. Directly at Karen.

  "I'm afraid not."

  Robert came forward. His movements were slow, as if he'd been injured. But he had a bow in his hand and looked like he was either packing, or getting ready to go out again. "Reverend, you of all people should know this isn't the time for-"

  "This lady, Karen Shipley," Tate interrupted and moved aside so that Robert could see her, "has come from New Hope."

  "You'll forgive me, but that place is the last thing on my mind right now," snapped Robert. "I've just rushed back here after being held prisoner and nearly roasted alive, because my son's missing. Kidnapped. His girlfriend's frantic, blaming herself for not doing more to prevent it. The man who took him says he wants me to come alone to Sherwood. I don't know whether Mark's alive or dead, and you're asking me to listen to someone Gwen's sent?"

  Tate was silent, then said: "Yes, I really think you need to hear what she's got to say."

  Karen came forward, not waiting for the answer. She was sorry for what had happened here but they needed help too - if not from the Hooded Man himself, then at least from his Rangers.

  "Please, Mr Hood," Karen began, "our village has been surrounded. Armed soldiers, Germans. They came a couple of days ago."

  "So how did you get out?"

  "It wasn't easy. I don't know how much longer the other people there can hold on."

  "Thought that place was like Fort Knox now?" Robert said.

  "These men are professionals. If they want in, they'll get in." Karen was beginning to see what Gwen meant about Hood. He wasn't the easiest of people to talk to, but she had caught him at a spectacularly bad moment. "People are injured, they're dying."

  "Dying? I've just come back from a battle to take Edinburgh Castle from a cannibalistic witch woman, a battle that some of my Rangers lost. I've heard my other troops in Wales have suffered casualties, as well, trying to remove another crazed dictator from power. We only just made it back alive, and now you're asking me to help a village that pretty much turned its back on us?"

  Karen wasn't around when the bulk of this bad feeling had built up, so she couldn't comment. Instead she said the only thing she could. "I understand what you're going through with your son, and I really do hope you get him back safely. But Gwen has a son, too. A son these people want to get their hands on for some reason."

  Robert frowned, then looked at Tate.

  "Tanek is with them, Robert," said the Reverend. "There's definitely a link between the Germans there and what's been happening in Wales and Scotland."

  Karen could see Hood was still thinking about it, the mention of Tanek enough to stop his rant. Then he waved his hand. "I don't have time for this. I need to get to Sherwood. Mark's been missing for over a day now as it is."

  "Even if you can't come yourself, could you at least spare some of your Rangers? Then we might stand a-"

  "Look around you! Most of my men are still in the North and the West. The castle's practically defenceless, and you want me to send more of them away with you?"

  "Robert," chastised Mary.

  "I'm sorry, but Gwen and her lot have made their own beds as far as I'm concerned. She's repeatedly ignored our warnings about what would happen if she carried on arming herself to the teeth, poaching people from other communities just because they're useful to her. She's also point blank refused any protection from us in the past. Gwen likes to do things her way, and look where it's got her!" Robert turned to Karen. "I don't care for or condone the way you people operate. Like attracts like, Miss Shipley."

  "Please, you have to help us."

  Robert pointed a finger at her. "Give me one good reason why I should."

  There was silence for a moment, then Karen said: "Compassion."

  He looked into her eyes, then hung his head.

  "If you won't send anyone else, then I'm going anyway," said Tate. "I've let Gwen down twice in the past before. I will not do so again."

  "That," said Robert, "is your choice. I'm going to try and save my son."

  Tate took Karen's arm this time. "Come on. Robert, I pray for you and that you will bring Mark safely back home. I'm only sorry I couldn't stop the man who took him."

  As the Reverend was walking out of the room with Karen, she heard Robert call after them. "Take a dozen Rangers with you, but bring them back in one piece." Tate smiled at her, as if knowing the man would do that all along.

  Karen felt less reassured, though. A crippled Reverend and a handful of men. What good would they be against the German troops and that giant they called Tanek? She was almost embarrassed to be returning with them.

  "Don't worry," Tate had said as they'd made their way back out of the castle. "It's going to be alright this time. I'm going to make up for everything."

  Karen hoped to God that the holy man was right.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Robert rode low on his horse, trying not to think about the events that had forced him here.

  But he couldn't help it. That had always been his trouble, dwelling on things. His mind harking back to the past. In his early days at Sherwood, it had been the life he'd led with his former wife and son. Now it was the more recent events of the last couple of days, and hours.

  After Bill had shown up at Edinburgh Castle, freeing the other members of his captured team - rectifying Robert's first, but not his only, major mistake of late - the resistance had soon been quashed. Once word spread through the Widow's men about her death, it hadn't taken that long. Even the depleted number of Rangers on their side had been enough in the face of these thieves and comparatively untrained yobs. Bill had already destroyed most of their heavy armaments in his initial run with the Black Shark, and though Robert had to openly disapprove of these actions - having denounced modern weaponry in all its forms - there was still a part of him that was glad they didn't have to tackle these with bows and arrows after what he'd al
ready gone through.

  The victory had been hard won, but satisfying, leaving the way clear for the local Rangers to set up their own HQ at the castle in the future. Securing a way of life for the Scottish people which didn't involve bowing down to that mad woman. They'd once said no-one could ever take away their freedom, but hadn't banked on one of their own trying it. At least now the bare bones of a free Scotland - protected by a Scottish contingent of Rangers - looked more likely.

  Then, when most of the fighting was over, the message had come in about Mark. That someone had broken into the castle the previous evening and taken him, leaving a handwritten note by the radio which read:

  Hooded Man. You will come to the forest alone if you ever want to see him alive again. Send anyone else and I will kill him. I will wait for you there.

  It had been signed simply 'S'.

  Tate had described the intruder as being Native American, which didn't give Robert much to go on. But the very fact the holy man had been bested by him spoke volumes. Though at first glance Tate might look like he was a helpless old cripple, he could actually handle himself extremely well in a fight.

  The fact that Mark hadn't been able to take the man, either, further emphasised that his kidnapper was a professional. Mark had been coming up in the ranks over the last twelve months. He was no longer the boy Robert had first met at that ad-hoc market three years ago; he was a fully grown man - in spite of how he might be treated sometimes by them - and had been training with the Rangers for a long time. He'd handled himself excellently during the Tsar's invasion and had even started to have those same prophetic dreams Robert enjoyed, especially during their frequent visits to the forest he was heading towards today. He was becoming everything Robert had anticipated he would. But then he'd heard this, and it took him right back to that day when De Falaise had taken the boy. To when that bastard Tanek had cut Mark's finger off.