As it was there was just one and it was stuck up to its knees in the middle of a small ornamental lake or pond. There was no way I was going to go in and put it out of its misery and it seemed to be well and truly stuck, so me and the private who had accompanied me decided it was best just to leave it where it was.
By the time we got back, the house had been broken into and sleeping areas allocated, in my case a sofa downstairs. For the sake of propriety, the women shared two of the bedrooms, the main bedroom was allocated to three of the men and everyone else picked a spot on the floor or in armchairs of which they seemed to be many, in other words, everyone tried to find somewhere as comfortable as possible, Brian, leading by example, included in that number.
I hung around while Brian doled out the watch rota then I flicked my head at Daisy as a debate began about which kind of tinned food should be served up.
Daisy was exhausted after keeping us on the move all day. It had taken a lot of navigating and driving on narrow roads to keep us out of anything more than a village and even then, in a couple of them, we’d had to slow down and bump the Groaners out of the way because there were just too many for the tractor to cope with.
We sat outside, holding hands, leaning on each other as we watched the Groaner trying to do the front crawl without actually having its arms in the water until it fell over. Mungo had been cooped up all and was off exploring on the other side of the pond probably scenting out rabbits.
I lit the third cigarette I’d had all day and held it out for Daisy to take, which she did. I lit my fourth and held it between my fingers as I tried to think how the heck to explain that there were two werewolves and a strange man inside the motorhome.
I’d been thinking about our little meeting all day and I had come to the firm conclusion that there was far more to Jim than meets the eye. He’d said a couple of things that made me think he might be more involved in what might be called magic and he might know more about the virus if that is what it was, than he was letting on but how I had no idea at all.
Having a large library in Lanchcombe with lots of books about the local area had ignited an interest when I was small, and I was aware, if not well read, about all the myths and legends of the area, so the idea of magic and otherworldliness, like with the werewolves, was something I was more than willing to accept. I had never seen anything myself to back up anything I’d read, but with an open mind, I was willing to accept it might be true.
Gerald, sorry Jezza had always mocked my interest, and over the last few years, my involvement with the estate meant I hadn’t really given it much thought but every once in a while, something odd would crop up somewhere on the estate to reignite my reading.
Mungo finally gave up with the sniffing and lay beside me on the grass. Occasionally, if the Groaner looked like it was going to move or come closer, he would let out a small growl but otherwise, he seemed happy to have his ears and belly tickled.
That was exactly what I was doing when Daisy spoke up.
“Are you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I still hadn’t decided exactly how much to tell her. I knew I had to tell her something, but I was unsure whether she was of the same kind of open mind as I was.
“What’s got you thinking. You’ve barely said a word all day and unless I’ve done something to upset you, which I haven’t, then it must be something else.” She edged closer and slipped an arm around me.
“It’s Jim and the girls.”
“Well. I guessed it must be something to do with them. What is it? Is something going on with those girls? Is he mistreating them because if he is, I’ll—”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that. The girls are fine, he’s fine, but there is something weird going on.”
Daisy turned to look at me. her bright eyes were reflecting the last of the sun’s rays for the day giving their normal chestnut brown a golden glow.
She kept watching me as I juggled the words around in my head hoping to find a suitable starting place, so I could spit them out into the open.
“OK, well, you know I went in for a chat earlier with Jim?”
“Yes. Come on, Frank, spit it out.”
“I’m trying. It’s not easy. You might not believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe you. I mean, it’s not like he’s a wizard and the girls are werewolves is it?”
I turned my head very slowly to look at her.
“Libby?” I asked.
“Libby. She was upset when you came out of the motorhome. I asked her what had happened, and she told me.”
“So, you know?”
“That’s what I just said.”
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“No. I think we should, but I didn’t want to until I talked to you. I made sure Libby didn’t either.”
I nodded, this was good. I was puzzled about one thing though. “Why aren’t you freaking out?”
“I don’t know. I should be, shouldn’t I? I suppose, after a zombie apocalypse coming true after all the books and films and TV shows, it’s easier to believe something like werewolves when you think how long and how often they have been written and spoken about. Besides, I believe in you, Frank. I don’t think you’d lie about something like that.”
I did my lopsided grin.
“You’re getting good at that, you actually don’t look weird when you do it now.”
“Why, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. How long before you tell everyone.”
“Jim says he wants to stay in isolation for another couple of days. After that we’ll just see what happens. I can’t see the point in push—”
“Frank?” A voice came from behind me. Someone was calling out as they walked away from the farm toward the pond.
“Yes, Brian, what is it?”
“Hi, Daisy. Sorry to disturb you two. Something has happened, and I think you should come and see.”
“What is it, what’s going on?”
“Jim is out of the motorhome. He wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, shit, right, OK well, I’ll be there in a minute. Did anyone else come out?”
“Yes, the girls got out with him.” Brian looked a little puzzled.
“And do they look … normal?”
“They look perfectly normal to me.”
I breathed a sigh of relief which drew a look of confusion from Brian. “Are you coming?”
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“OK. I’ll tell him. I’m not sure about this, Frank. Now he’s out of the motorhome, there’s something odd about him.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. It’ll be fine.”
Once Brian turned around and headed back toward the farm buildings, I turned to Daisy.
“Are you ready for this?” I held out a hand which Daisy took, and I helped her to her feet.
“Ready for what, Frank?”
“Lord alone knows, but whatever it is, we need to be ready.”
Mungo growled gently in the half light of dusk that was coming in quickly.
“Oh, don’t you start,” I said, bending over to ruffle his head. “Mungo come.” I set off for the farm, holding Daisy’s hand. Mungo let out a little whimper then trotted along behind us.
***
When we got back, Jim was sitting on the step of his RV holding a cup of whatever rank concoction he’d been drinking earlier judging by the smell.
“What’s going on, Jim? You said another couple of days.”
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” He looked at Daisy suspiciously and I realised he didn’t want to speak in front of her.
“Look, Jim. Daisy knows everything.”
“You told her? You said you wouldn’t.”
“No, Libby told me,” Daisy said.
“Right, Libby. The one you said you would sort out, huh, Frank?”
“She hasn’t told anyone else, and I trust Daisy. She’s my—” I stopped talking. How was I supposed to describe our relationship?
Girlfriend? It’s only been a few days. Lover? It’s only been once. Colleague? Too impersonal. Friend? Yes, that would do for now. Not girlfriend though. Too presumptuous.
“She’s my girlfriend,” I said and noticed Daisy’s head swivel around to look at me, then look back round at Jim. Seemed like she was willing to let that one ride for now, although I doubted it would be the last I’d hear of it.
“How nice for you both. Look, the reason I came out earlier than I said is that we need to divert, just a short way, tomorrow.”
“Why? Where to?”
“You remember I said I had to be somewhere in a week?” Jim said.
That was one of the odd things he’d said earlier that had puzzled me. “Go on,” I said
“Well, I had a message, and I need to be somewhere tomorrow now.”
“What do you mean, you had a message?” Daisy asked. “There’s no phone signal, hasn’t been for days.”
“It wasn’t on a phone, Daisy.”
“What was it then, pigeon? Owl?”
Jim sighed impatiently. “No, Daisy, it was neither of those things. Right now, it doesn’t matter anyhow. All that matters is that I got a message and we need to be there tomorrow evening latest.”
“Be where?” I asked.
“At the stones,” Jim said grimly.
“Stonehenge? That’s miles away, Jim, no to mention right by a main road, we might not be able to get—”
“Not Stonehenge.”
“Right. Which stones are you talking about?”
“The Rollright Stones.”
“The where now?” Daisy asked, shaking her head.
“The Rollright Stones. About ten miles north of here.”
“Why there?” Daisy asked.
Jim looked puzzled for a few moments. “Because that was what the message said.
“No, I mean, why have you got to go there, what for?”
Jim shrugged. “Right now, I’m not sure. The message was garbled but the location was clear. Tomorrow night at The Rollright Stones.”
“Is it likely to be dangerous, Jim?” I asked.
“Everything’s dangerous now. Every time you step into your car or truck you’re heading into danger.”
“I know that. Is it going to be any more dangerous than normal, if you can call what we’re doing normal?”
Jim stood from the step, put his mug down on it, and stepped closer to us.
“When we are there, everyone will be perfectly safe.” I noticed his beard beads wobbling as he spoke.
Daisy and I looked at each other.
“What about before we get there?” Daisy asked.
“There may be,” he whispered, “more … what is it you’re calling them? Groaners?” I nodded. “There may be more Groaners than we have met so far.”
“How many more?” I asked.
“A few.”
“Define a few,” I said. It was too vague for my liking.
“More than we’re used to. Have you noticed how all the ones we’ve met in the last few days are heading north?”
I looked at Daisy. She had been the one bowling them over in the tractor. She confirmed his statement with a sharp nod.
“That’s where they were heading.”
“Right. And you want us to go where the Groaners are heading?”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but that is a little counterintuitive isn’t it? Surely, we should be heading away from the bloody things, not toward them.”
“You’d think, wouldn’t you? But, no. That’s where I have to get to, and I’m hoping for your help.” Jim’s face was creased around the yes and they were worry lines not laughter lines. He didn’t seem the type to laugh much.
“But you can’t tell us why?”
“Not yet. All I know for now is that I need to be there, and that it’s important.”
“I’m game,” Daisy said.
I turned to face her. “If you’re going, then so am I. The question is, is it fair to ask the others to come along?”
“The only way we’ll know is to ask them, or we say nothing, and they just follow along behind like we have all done so far.”
That was, I thought, a fair summary of the options available to us. I thought about it for a few moments. In truth, it really didn’t matter whether we told everyone or not. As things were, we were heading north come what may. It meant having to deal with whatever we came across on the way and that wasn’t going to change.
“We say nothing,” I said.
“I agree,” Daisy said.
“You’re as crazy as I am,” Jim said.
***
The next morning came and if I’m honest, I was wavering. I thought I’d made the right decision not to say but the passage of time and a lack of sleep had clouded my mind.
In the end I needed Daisy to persuade me to stand firm. We were heading into trouble, but the same could be said for every day, she reminded me.
I did go around and make sure everyone had a weapon of some sort, mostly kitchen knives with a couple of baseball bats and the soldiers with their bayonets. Brian had the six bullets in a magazine on his rifle.
I hoped everyone would be OK if we got into a serious fight, but there was no way of being sure.
David took over driving the Range Rover. I wanted to ride with Jim, so I could see what we were heading into. We had a route planned that avoided going through any towns or villages at all which made the journey up to about fourteen miles.
Like most days, at times, progress was laboriously slow. We were down to walking speed, bumping Groaners out of the way as we passed, within a couple of hundred yards of leaving the farm. There weren’t as many as we’d seen when we picked up with Jim but there were noticeably plenty about. All heading north.
The biggest delays, again like every other day, was when we had to stop to clear vehicles off the road, or worse, we had to turn around and plan a different route if the blockage was too much to clear.
If we plotted out progress on a map, which I’d stopped doing almost as soon as we had got on the move from Lanchcombe, it would have looked like a boustrophedon text. We spent little time heading due north but plenty of time zig-zagging east and west to get around blockages in the road.
It looked like today would be no different when Daisy slowed to a halt ahead of us. I worked my way back to the door of the motorhome and when we stopped, I flung it open to go see what the problem was.
Almost as soon as I was out the door a Groaner was heading my way and I was grateful for the timely intervention from Brian and one of the soldiers who had sprinted forward from the truck and speared the ugly looking thing through the head with a bayonet. Once I’d checked there were no more lingering in the undergrowth, I headed up to talk to Daisy and see why she had stopped.
Once I got to the tractor, I didn’t need to ask.
The road ahead was teeming with Groaners. Hundreds of the bloody things, all trudging away from us.
“What do we do now?” Daisy asked, holding open the map book she had been using and pointing to where we were. “There’s no way across on a proper road. We’d need to go back almost to the farm and take this road here.” She pointed at it and followed it with her finger. “It’s a main road though, so the chances are it’s going to be busy with those things and choked up with cars.”
Jim had disembarked the motorhome and headed up to join us.
“Problem?” he asked.
I pointed ahead. He craned his head around then asked for a look at the map.
“How fast do you figure those things are travelling?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Not quickly, why?” Daisy asked, taking the map back when Jim handed it to her.
“If I’m not mistaken there’s a minor road about a mile ahead that would take us almost straight to the stones.”
“If we can get within a mile or so, we can ship out and head across country for the last mile.”
I wished then that I�
�d said something to everyone. Asking them to hike across country when they thought they were all going to be safe in vehicles was above and beyond what I was expecting to happen.
In the end the plan was decided. We would follow the horde rather than trying to break through and hope that not too many of them decided to take the same minor road we wanted to follow.
It took us an hour to reach the turn off to the right. When we did Daisy immediately steered the tractor onto it and stopped. I ran forward again.
“What is it?”
“Look at this road, Frank. It’s narrow and twisty according to the map. I think the motorhome and truck should wait here a few minutes while I go and see how bad it is beyond that first bend at least. If they get half a mile in and get stuck it will make for a long walk.”
I ran back and OK’d it with Jim and Brian then went back to the tractor. I went around to the passenger side, laughingly described I’m sure as, from previous experience, I knew there was barely room to breathe never mind sit comfortably, but I wasn’t going to let her go alone.
“Here we go again, then, Frank. Into the unknown on board the trusty tractor,” Daisy yelled over the sound of the engine.
I leaned back, remembering what happened last time I’d been in the tractor. I was hoping nothing like that was on the cards this time.
We were still at least three miles away from the stones. Too far to risk walking that distance with the Groaner’s also on the move.
Daisy drove slowly to the first bend in the road and slowly edged around. Bar a maybe a dozen Groaners it looked clear. They all looked our way once they heard the engine but instead of heading toward us, they kept heading along the road. We followed them for a while until they went around the next bend. Past that the road was narrow and had a lot of overhanging trees that might cause a problem, but otherwise it was still clear, Groaners aside, but they seemed intent on heading in the same direction as we wanted to go.
“I think it could work, Frank. What do you think?”
I nodded. “Turn around, let’s go get them.”
Twenty minutes later we were back in the spot where we had turned around being followed slowly by the three other vehicles. As I’d thought, the overhanging trees were causing problems, but we were managing to force a way through.
The One Percent (Episode 3): The One Percent Page 9