The One Percent (Episode 3): The One Percent

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The One Percent (Episode 3): The One Percent Page 7

by Heller, Erik P.


  By the time we made it back, Mandeep and his daughter were waiting by the checkouts. Brian was checking over a few items in other trolleys, then we all wheeled them outside to the truck and started to unload. In the end, that took too long so between us, we ended up lifting the trolleys into the back of the truck. It didn’t leave much space, so people had to squeeze in but better that than hang around for too long. Some of the army boys had knocked off a few more of the undead while we had been inside, and more were heading our way so sorting the back of the truck out would have to wait.

  Brian called everyone in, we all jumped into our vehicles, and with Daisy leading again, we set off. Mandeep had purloined Mungo’s seat so the dog was sitting in the back—and I’m sure it was pouting—between Libby and Gianpreet on David’s lap.

  Once we moved off, introductions were made then the inside of the car fell silent.

  Mandeep kept his eyes on every stumbling figure as we drove along.

  “Did you have anyone you wanted to look for, Mandeep?”

  “No, my wife, Gianpreet’s mother, died last year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK. It hit us hard hah Gianpreet?”

  I looked in the rearview and saw Gianpreet nodding.

  “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

  “I’m glad,” Gianpreet said from behind me. “She would never have coped with this.”

  “She would not,” Mandeep said sadly as he watched another Groaner head straight at the car only to miss. “She was a quiet and dedicated woman who never hurt anyone.”

  I saw Gianpreet roll her eyes then look away when she saw me watching. Maybe her experience of her mother didn’t quite match up to her dad’s description. In the end, I didn’t have time to delve into that story for too long. We needed to get out of Wantage before Wantage came a-looking for us.

  ***

  The trip out of Wantage was not too bad. We had to slow right down at one time to allow Daisy to work her clearing magic when we hit a largish group outside of town where it looked like a large village had been built from nowhere almost.

  Once we got through the melee onto what seemed like a bypass, and started making progress, we soon got out into open country again, interspersed with woods and copses and occasional farms.

  At the far end of the village, the numbers were smaller, so Daisy ploughed through and we all followed.

  Just past the village, we headed off back on the country roads. The road we’d been on was obviously a busy main road so getting off it before we got to where it was thoroughly clogged up was a priority and I was pleased when Jim’s indicators showed him turning left. After that, we seemed to chug along at a steady pace. I remembered the plan about leaving signs for Jezza but as we’d twisted and turned a lot, it seemed pointless trying to resurrect that particular plan.

  Much as it pained me to say so, Jezza was on his own.

  I reckoned we had about an hour of daylight left when Jim stood on his brakes, just as I was feeling the effects of the day and was ready for a sleep. I just managed to stop in time.

  The army lad driving the lorry had been similarly attentive and just stopped in time too.

  I leaned out of the window to see what was going on. Daisy was out of the tractor and walking back down the side of the motorhome.

  “Come and look,” she yelled as she got closer, and waved me out.

  I jumped out and heard Brian jump out behind me.

  “What’s going on?” he said when we all met up.

  “Come and look at this, see what you think.” Daisy pointed around the other side of the motorhome.

  I followed her around. Halfway along there was a narrow lane that led to a metal gate, low and rusty, looking like it hadn’t been opened for years.

  We all climbed over. The site was levelled but it looked like at one time there had been buildings there.

  It was surrounded on all sides by a wire fence amongst thickets of brambles and bushes. The only real access was through the gate.

  “What do you think of this for tonight?” Daisy said.

  “I think it’s a bloody good spot, Daisy.” Brian stood and did a full circle. “Let’s get everyone in, park the tractor over where the gate was, and we should all be snug for the night at least. We might have to sleep in the vehicles but at least it should be safe.”

  Fifteen minutes later, after much shunting around, the motorhome, the truck, and the Range Rover were all parked up away from the entrance where Daisy had backed up the tractor, blocking it off entirely.

  While the soldiers unloaded the lorry and restacked what we’d got from the supermarket, and everyone else, but not Jim, got a fire going and some food on the go, Brian, Mungo, and I did a quick check around the perimeter before it got dark.

  Mungo spent more time sniffing rabbit holes and taking care of his needs than he did checking the perimeter, but Brian and I made up for the dog’s lack of attention.

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  “Looks good, Frank.”

  “Do we need to post a watch? I reckon everyone could do with a good night’s sleep.”

  Brian looked up into the sky. “It’s going to be dark in a while. Once it’s dark we need to post a watch. With there being so many of us now it shouldn’t be a problem doing a two-hour watch, three of us at a time.”

  “It would be easier still if Jim ever got out of that damn motorhome. What do you make of him?”

  “Not a lot to say. Doesn’t seem the friendliest type.”

  I felt in my pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. I offered one to Brian which he took, and I lit them both with my father’s lighter.

  “That was my impression too.” I watched as a couple of soldiers gathered wood for the fire from beneath the trees that lined the site.

  “Do you think we’re still on track, Frank?”

  “For what?”

  “To get to the houses up north. We’ve been on the road for three days and haven’t made fifty miles from home yet.”

  I turned to look at the man I’d worked with every day for the last couple of years.

  “What do you think?”

  Brian drew on his cigarette, coughed a couple of times, then flicked the remnants away. “I remember why I gave up now,” he said. “I think we should still keep going. Down here we’re never more than a few miles from a town like Wantage. They might not be huge, but they will still have plenty of Groaners. I didn’t like what happened at Swindon either. That many Groaners on the move out of the city suggests to me that someone forced them out,” he said quietly, checking around to make sure no one else was in earshot.

  “But how? You know the things come straight at you when they hear you. Surely, if someone was behind them all moving out of Swindon, the Groaners would have been heading toward them, not away?”

  “The only other explanation I can think of is that nobody was left there, and the Groaners moved out looking for food. If that’s the case, we are in big trouble. I mean we’ve done well to find the people we have done so far, but if Swindon was empty, it means there aren’t many of us left anywhere.”

  “And?” I didn’t like the way Brian was talking here.

  “And it means the end, Frank.”

  “The end of what?”

  “Humans. Civilisation.”

  “Completely?”

  “Maybe. Look at us. There’s what, twenty of us? That is going to take so long to get a viable population the whole country will have returned to the wild by the time numbers start to recover.”

  “You know what, Brian?”

  “What?”

  “I think that should be the last thing on our minds.”

  “How so?”

  “Because we’re not going to be around to see it. A few thousand years ago there were only a few thousand humans across the whole of the country but look at how it was before this all happened. Teeming cities. People everywhere. Unless something dramatic happens, all it has done has knocked u
s back a few thousand years. We can come back from that. Eventually. All we need to worry about is getting to somewhere safe and out of the way to minimise the threat from the Groaners. They’ll die out eventually, I mean they’re hardly going to reproduce, are they? When they do, we’ll have the world back again and can start to expand our numbers. I don’t things are nearly as bleak as you think. The important thing is that we survive. That everyone out there who is still alive manages to survive.”

  Brian gave me a look.

  “OK, well almost everyone.”

  “That’s the key then, survive and wait for the Groaners to die off.”

  “That’s right. That’s why we still head north.”

  “Thanks, Frank. All this unremitting running is getting me down a bit. It’s nice to get a different perspective on things.”

  “Anytime, boss,” I said and elbowed Brian in the arm.

  Brian was quiet for a while but then grinned. “That seems weird. You’re my boss but I end up giving the orders.”

  “I was your boss, Brian. That particular contract has now been terminated. Now, we all are who we are with no hierarchy to mess things up.”

  “For now.”

  “Forever, I hope.”

  Brian shook his head. “They’ll always be a hierarchy. It might not be because of who your father was, but it will still be there. People are different. It’s what makes humans what we are, or at least were. I’m no politician thank god, and I’m not greatly into philosophy, but I’ve seen enough stuff around the world to tell me that equality is not something that will ever happen. Some people lead, some people follow, some people innovate, some people follow tradition. Some are greedy, some are not. Of all the things humans have changed over the centuries, the one thing that will never change is human nature.”

  “So, in a couple of thousand years, there’ll still be someone like me around?”

  “I’m certain there will be.”

  I thought about it for a while.

  “That’s a shame,” I said.

  Brian looked at me puzzled.

  “I mean it’s a shame if we can’t use this as a way of moving on, you know.”

  “Take it from me, Frank. That isn’t going to happen.”

  I nodded, and we carried on checking the rest of the perimeter but what Brian had said had got me thinking. That is not a good thing because I’ve never been a deep thinker and it was making my head spin a bit, but it was the first time I remember getting it in my head that maybe, just maybe, this was the time for a reset and that I had a part to play in it.

  Yes, I was born into alleged privilege, at least the privilege of having to live in a crappy house that threatened to fall down any moment, but it didn’t mean I had to play any part in perpetuating the social systems that brought that about or allowing them to be part of the new world I was at the start of.

  It was going to be harsh, and that harshness was always going to promote a world where the strongest and most able survived.

  That is just nature at work and while I might not be the brightest spark in the world, even I knew it was pointless fighting that, but somewhere down the line I hoped the world, or rather people, adapted and found a new way.

  Maybe I’m just an old fool for believing that or even thinking it, but I hoped it could be so.

  By the time we made it around the field, a heady concoction of food had been made ready. I ate. I slept. I took watch. I slept some more, and when the sun rose the next morning, I hoped that my optimism of the previous day wasn’t misplaced.

  IX0X0X0X0X0X0XI

  Breakfast was short and sharp. From what I could see, pretty much everyone was keen to keep moving and get where we were going. I took the opportunity to introduce everyone to everyone else so we all at least knew who everyone was. Once I’d introduced Libby to everyone, I pulled her off to one side.

  “What do you know about Jim?” I asked. I’d decided, on my two-hour watch, that it was time to find out what was going on with him.

  “Not much really. He picked me and Mike up when we were just outside a village. The two girls were in the back and seemed to spend most of their time asleep but then they were up all night and the noise was horrendous. Loud bangs, laughing, joking, but whining as well—really odd—then … well, you know, late at night.”

  I was puzzled for a moment and it must have showed because Libby raised her eyebrows at me as if she thought I was trying to make her spell it out until I remembered what ‘it’ was. “Sorry. I got it now.” I felt the urge to apologise over and over for having her nearly say the word sex. She didn’t appear to be someone who was comfortable talking about it in public.

  Join the club, I thought.

  I skipped over the subject which Libby seemed happy with. I’m the product of an all boy’s boarding school so I was as wound up about openly discussing sex as she was but at least I had an excuse.

  “Nobody has left the motorhome since the day I rescued you.”

  “The day you abandoned Mike you mean?”

  “Well, yes, that too but I told you about that. You saw him with that knife. He was willing to do the same to me.”

  Libby looked down at her feet. “I suppose. So, why are you interested in Jim?”

  “Well, I think it’s a little unfair that he’s not doing anything to help the rest of the people here. That motorhome is big. The least he could do is offer a few more people a ride in it.”

  “It’s got heating too,” Libby said with a dreamy look on her face.

  That would have been nice the night before which I’d spent sleeping on the ground, so people could use the Range Rover to sleep in. I didn’t mind too much, at least it was dry, and I had Daisy with me to keep me warm—and vice versa of course.

  “Do you think you could ask him to come out, so we can talk, or at the least let me inside.”

  “Well, I can try, but like I say I barely know the man and he hardly spoke after he picked us up. Lola and Brigitte were a bit chattier but even they shut up after a day.”

  “Did they say anything about who they were and why they’re with Jim? I haven’t seen either of them and I must profess to being a little worried about them.” My experience at the gun shop was talking there.

  Libby looked at me for a moment. “You really do talk very posh, Frank.”

  I was taken aback a little, I must confess, to my ear I spoke no differently than she did.

  “Is that relevant?”

  “Not to me. I’m an English teacher by profession. I like hearing English being spoken properly. Jim isn’t so keen though. The only time I heard him ranting about anything was about how certain people had everything and people who didn’t have power didn’t get their fair share. I think he might be a little bit radical in his orientation.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “Well, from the way you talk, I assumed—”

  I turned away from her, heading toward the motorhome. “Don’t assume anything, Libby. All I want to do is to talk to the man. Come on.”

  I’ve never been a political type, in fact I despise most of them, and I wasn’t about to be pigeonholed just because of the way I speak.

  Libby followed on and as I waited by the door, she stepped up and knocked on the door. Loudly.

  “Who is it?” I recognised Jim’s voice.

  “It’s me, Jim. Libby.”

  “Hang on a moment.”

  The motorhome rocked a couple of times before eventually, I heard the click of a lock and the door swung open as Libby stepped back to avoid it.

  “What do you want?” Jim said, then noticed me standing to one side. He looked me up and down then turned back to Libby, clearly waiting for an answer.

  “Errm, Frank here,” she held out her hand to me like a model on a game show, “wanted to talk with you.”

  “So why are you asking, not him?” he tipped his head up in my direction.

  “Well, errm, I’m not sure, actually.”

  “Do you always get wo
men to do your dirty work for you?”

  I smiled. That was a mistake because his face looked immediately puzzled. I stopped smiling and tried to look serious.

  “I don’t, no, but it got the door open. Would you have opened it if I’d knocked on my own?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Well, there you go. So, what do you say? Any chance of a chat for five minutes?”

  Jim looked down on me from inside the motorhome. It was difficult to judge exactly how tall he was, but I would guess maybe six foot. He looked to be roughly my age although his long straggly beard that was plaited at the end with beads holding it together, made that difficult to judge too. His dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The scruffy T-shirt and jeans he was wearing masked what looked to be a rangy, wiry physique. Certainly, no musclebound gym goer from what I could see. Mind you neither was I. So far that was pretty much all we had in common that I could see.

  Eventually, and to my surprise, he nodded and stepped to one side.

  Libby slipped up onto the step before me which was a shame as I hadn’t intended for her to be a party to what was said, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, so I let it slide.

  Once we were inside, I grabbed a quick look around, just to get the lie of the land. I couldn’t see the two women anywhere, so I assumed they were still asleep in the room at the back of the motorhome. The door was closed, and I thought it impolite to demand to see them.

  Jim had stepped past to switch off an electric kettle that had just boiled and made himself a drink before turning back to us and indicating the bench seat that ran down both sides of the motorhome behind the driver’s and passenger’s seats. I edged around the table that was fixed in position between the seats and parked myself there.

  Libby sat opposite, and Jim squeezed in beside her.

  It felt like I was applying for a job, or at least what I thought it would be like. Either that or looking for a loan from an ageing hipster bank manager.

  “So, what do you want?” Jim asked by way of small talk.

  “I was wondering if you were going to join in. With the rest of the group?”

 

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