UK Dark Series (Book 1): UKD1

by Harris, Chris

  I told them that we’d tried to switch it on, but hadn’t been able to get it to work, so we’d put it back in the crate, and had forgotten all about it.

  Jerry brought it into the room along with the instructions. Being men, we didn’t bother with those and just turned it on and started to push buttons and twiddle knobs to see what would happen. All we got was static. Becky and Fiona, who had picked up the discarded instructions and had been reading them for a few minutes, told us to move our ignorant backsides out of the way and let the ones who had actually read the instructions have a go.

  Jerry and I returned to our seats somewhat sulkily. After a few minutes of nothing but static, with both of the girls referring to the manual and pressing another button or turning a dial, they actually got something.

  It was faint at first, and very garbled, so you couldn’t understand what was being said, but it was definitely a voice. It kept fading in and out. No matter what they did, they couldn’t get it to sound any clearer.

  “We need to get Russ in on this, he knows about these things.” I said. I stood up and was about to run over to his house and wake him up, but Becky said,

  “Leave it till the morning, we’re all shattered. Look at Jane and Michael. They can hardly keep their eyes open. Jo isn’t going to thank you for waking them all up at this hour.” I started to protest so she said sharply, “It’s been sitting in that bloody crate for over a month because you both forgot about it, one more night isn’t going to make a difference, now let’s all go to bed.” Once again I knew when I’d lost, so with a final grunt of disagreement, I sat down and finished my drink. We all said our good nights and went to bed.

  In the morning Jerry and I were up and dressed earlier than usual. Picking up the radio, we walked over to Russ’s house, knocked quickly, and walked straight in. We didn’t lock our front doors in the road now.

  With so many people living in each house and people coming and going, changing guard shifts throughout the night, it wasn’t practical to do it. They could all be locked and barred quickly from the inside in the event of an emergency, though.

  Russ was already up, sitting at his kitchen table, drawing out plans for another one of his inventions. He looked up in surprise at our early entry. He looked even more surprised when he saw what Jerry was carrying.

  “Where the bloody hell did you get that beauty from?” he asked. Jerry and I told him the story and how we’d forgotten all about it. In response to the look of disapproval he gave us, when we admitted to having forgotten it, I hurriedly explained that I’d been more interested in showing Jerry how the guns worked at the time, so I hadn’t given the radio much thought. And what with everything that had happened since, somehow I hadn’t really thought about it again until Jerry had remembered last night.

  Russ, by now, had removed it from Jerry’s grip and was virtually drooling over it. “I read about these, it’s the latest military radio. The article said it’s full of top secret stuff, which they couldn’t go into, but it’ll provide a massive upgrade for the military, and will eliminate all the communication issues they’ve been having with the old equipment they’ve been using until now.”

  “But can you get it to work?” I asked, impatiently.

  “It’d be a lot easier with some sort of manual,” he replied. Grinning, I reached into the pocket of my coat and dropped the instruction manual on the table in front of him. He didn’t even look up at us, saying, “Both of you idiots, out! Give me an hour or so and I’ll come and find you.”

  We went back to the house and helped get the children up. Then Becky and I showed my sister and her family around our community, starting with the food tent first where, by now, most people who were not on duty were gathering.

  Everybody knew about their arrival and was interested in what was happening out there, so after breakfast, Pete, who had been over to see them the day before and was up to date with everything, gave a résumé of what had happened to them, and what we had learned about what was going on in the outside world.

  Neither Pete nor anyone else knew about the radio yet. I decided not to tell them and get their hopes up, until we knew that Russ could get it working.

  While we were showing my sister around all the perimeter fences and everything else we had done to improve our safety, Pete allocated the day’s duties. He had already told me I was on hunting duties today, which would enable me to stay close to home and be there for my family should they need me. I’d already thanked him for his thoughtfulness and promised I’d join the rest of the hunters as soon as I could. I enjoyed the hunting days more than any other.

  We’d constructed hides around the back gardens and in the park and set out decoys to attract ducks, geese and pigeons. Food had been laid out to attract squirrels, but as the weather was getting colder, they were mostly snuggled in their dreys and weren’t around as much. Most days we managed to decoy in a flight of ducks or geese to the lake, or pigeons on to the grass and, depending on the prey, we would use either the air rifles or shotguns. The fishermen always complained, saying that the noise stopped the fish from biting, but the daily catch didn’t seem to be affected if a shot was fired or not. The banter between both groups was always good humoured. I explained all this to Jane and Michael as I gave them the tour, and told them how much food we had collected and stored, and about the other projects we were working on, such as the rabbit breeding programme, which we hoped would help to extend our food supplies.

  We agreed that as soon as possible, we would go and collect the food from their house and that it would all be added to the community supply. Jerry and I already had enough food stored separately at my house, and also in Jerry’s cellar to last us for a long time if need be. I always checked on Jerry’s cellar when we passed, and remained confident that it was unlikely to be found behind the hidden doorway unless you knew it was there. It would therefore be selfish for us to keep any of it. As they were joining the community, if they could start with a large donation of food, then although there were no disagreements as yet, and we were all working well together while we had plenty of food, it might prevent any future conflict, if food did become scarce at any time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  I spotted Russ making his way hurriedly over to us, so I left Becky to continue the tour. He’d managed to work out most of the features on the radio and was confident that he could send and receive on it, if we managed to find anyone out there.

  “The problem is, all I get is static at the moment, so I think we might be out of range. We need to go to the highest point in the area and see if that extends the range. If you want to come with me, I think we should climb the church steeple to the belfry and see if it works up there.” He was pointing at the church on the next road over.

  “OK,” I said, “I’ll go and tell Pete you need me to help you with something and we’ll give it a go.”

  I went to speak to Pete. He could tell that we were up to something, but he trusted us, so he gave us a knowing look and went back to his lists and rotas.

  He crossed me off the hunting rota, and added Jerry and me to the list of the people working on the outside of the perimeter. He maintained these lists constantly, so that he always knew at a glance where everyone would be. I grabbed my tool bag, as we hadn’t ventured into the church before. We’d emptied the church hall of all sorts of useful items, but we’d all felt that it was wrong to take anything from the church itself and had left it alone. Out of habit, we both carried our MP5s with us. Even though we knew that the chance of encountering anyone was now slim, we had a strict rule that if anyone left the perimeter, at least one person should be armed. The radio came with shoulder straps, so Jerry carried it while I lugged the heavy tool bag.

  I recalled from previous visits to the church that the belfry entrance was a small door on the side of the steeple. It was a heavy oak door and it took me some effort with my crowbar before I was able to break the lock and gain access.

  When we reached the belfry
, after climbing the tight spiral stairs, we noticed a ladder leading to a trap door that gave access on to the walkway around the top of the steeple, where the spire began.

  The view up there was incredible. You could see most of South Birmingham, and the city looked strangely normal from this height. Looking more closely, you could see the burnt-out houses and abandoned cars littering the road, but in the distance over the rooftops, it all looked as if nothing had happened at all.

  “We should have used this as a regular look-out post ages ago,” I said.

  “It would have been the best way to see what was going on. Oh well, too late to worry about that now. I'll mention it to Pete when we get back.”

  Russ was busy setting up the radio and was oblivious to the view. I left him to it as I picked out all the landmarks I could see, wishing I’d brought my binoculars with me. Russ looked up and said, “I’ve just set it to scan for frequencies with any voice traffic on them.”

  I stopped my inspection of the Birmingham skyline and crouched down next to the radio. Suddenly the radio broadcast loud and clear:

  “Team one reporting. Main gate inspected and all secure, continuing perimeter check.” We looked at each other in amazement.

  “Well done, mate!” I said, slapping him on the back. “Now what?”

  “I suppose I should try and contact them and see what happens,” said Russ. He picked up the handset and spoke, “Hello, can anybody hear me? We are a group of survivors. Is there anybody who can tell us what is going on? I repeat, we are a group of survivors who have formed a small community to help each other. We would like some news about what is happening out there. Over.” We looked at each other expectantly, but nobody answered. We waited for five minutes, then the radio sprang to life.

  “Unidentified caller, identify yourself immediately.” It was a very terse reply. I nodded at Russ to carry on.

  “I repeat. We are a group who have formed a small community and are managing to survive. We want to know if there is anybody in control out there.” The reply came back immediately.

  “This is a secure frequency. How and why are you using this to contact us?” I took the handset from Russ and replied.

  “We were given the radio before the EMP hit. Look, we’ve been surviving on our own since the event, and have been attacked on many occasions and been forced to defend ourselves. We haven’t seen or heard from anyone in authority since it happened. Hundreds of thousands must already have died of starvation, or have been killed by the gangs roaming wild. And you’re asking me why I’m contacting you?”

  “Hold on,” came the brief reply. A few seconds later the radio burst into life again.

  “This is Captain Hardy. How can I help you?”

  I handed the handset back to Russ so that he could continue. “Captain Hardy, hello. My name is Russ. Am I speaking to the man in charge?”

  “Hello Russ. Let me put it this way, you are speaking to the most in charge person you are going to talk to until you can convince me otherwise. Can you tell me about yourselves and how you and your group are doing? Please tell us everything. We’ve had little or no news for weeks, apart from occasional contact with other units.” Russ looked at me and said, “Do you want to do this?” I nodded and took the handset back.

  I told Captain Hardy the basics of our story, from when I first became aware of what was going to happen, to the initial attacks. I explained how we’d built our fences for protection and described some of the things we’d done to keep us all safe.

  I didn’t say where we’d got the radio from, because I didn’t want to land Jerry’s brother in trouble, but I told him how the return of my sister, and hearing her story, had reminded us about the forgotten radio, which was how we were able to talk to him now. When I’d finished, he was silent for a while and politely asked us to hold on as he was passing us on to someone else.

  “This is Colonel Moore speaking, who am I talking to?” I started to smile.

  “Hello, my name is Tom. Do you happen to have a brother called Jerry?”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chris Harris was born in South Birmingham in 1971. Apart from a few years in his early twenties he has lived his whole life in the city, and proudly declares himself to be a true “Brummie”, born and bred.

  He settled in Moseley about fifteen years ago and has become a keen and active member of its thriving community.

  He is a loyal and enthusiastic member of Chantry Tennis Club, where he can frequently be seen demonstrating his talents on (and off) the court.

  He’s also a dedicated supporter of several local music festivals and a number of local charities, and is passionate about supporting the local independent economy (and is therefore a regular at the many local independent pubs and restaurants for which Moseley is rightly famous!)

  His early career centred around the building trade, before moving on to property development. Now a family man with a wife and three children, all of whom are very important to him and keep him very busy, he still finds time to pursue his many interests, which include: tennis, skiing, racquet ball, darts, and shooting. He’s also been an avid reader throughout his life.

  He came late to writing, but feels that it’s really ignited something long buried inside him. It’s given him an outlet for his imagination and, never one to be short of an opinion or the last word, he’s enjoyed the opportunity of “putting this down on paper” in his books.

  He reports that the UK Dark series, “will be at least a trilogy, but you never know what’s going to happen until you start writing,” and is currently also trying his hand at a Zombie book.

  Follow Chris on Facebook at Chris Harris Author

  MESSAGE FROM CHRIS

  Thank you for getting as far as reading this.

  I do hope you’ve enjoyed my efforts so far. If you have, please leave a review, as nothing cheers me up more than a nice one!

  If you haven’t, you have my apologies, but please contact me via my Facebook page and tell me where I went wrong.

  As I kept my writing a secret until the book was released, the normal list of acknowledgements is short.

  Thank you to my beautiful wife, Nicky, for allowing me the time and space to do this, and also to Billy and Katie for being my inspiration. Without you it would never have happened.

  Writing this book and the others in the series has been a fantastic experience. Realising that I can actually do it has probably been the main reward for me, but the support I’ve received from my many friends since its release, and the new friends I’ve made through my writing and research, has been wonderful.

  A true friend always supports you even if they’re not quite sure what you’re doing or why you’re doing it!

  I hope you enjoy following Tom, Becky, Stanley and Daisy as their adventures continue.