by Ian Chapman
There it was, the fifth one down. The torch jiggle around as I ran over to it. With my hands tight on the grab handles I clambered up, scanning around for the wires and metre. There was no sign of them on the hatch. They’d gone.
But Becky had taken them round to the back. That’s where she’d been last. I dropped down and waved the torch around. There they were: hanging off the edge of the bulk head. I put my pistol away. Grabbed the metre up and wrapped the wires around it. Shoved it all into my jacket.
Then I turned the torch off and stood at the rear of the tank, looking for the Eblis. That was when I heard the voices. No doubt about it, there were people here. They were whispering, several men, not far off. They must have seen the torch beam and were tracking over towards me. I lowered myself to the ground. There was no time to work out where Becky and Casper were so I slid under the vehicle, between the busted tracks and chassis. It had sunk into the ground so there wasn’t much space and I had to lie flat, pressed against the chewed up tarmac, the torch still in my hand, gravel in my face.
For several minutes there was no sound besides my own breath. As it rasped in and out. Then they came over, footsteps and voices. They stopped near me, standing by the tank. There sounded to be four or five of them, maybe more, now invisible in the darkness. Their voices were gruff and they used words I didn’t recognise. They muttered about the light they’d seen and where it was. Other stuff I couldn’t follow.
If they’d just arrived it was possible they’d not seen the Eblis, mistaking it for one of the wrecks.
There was a rasp and light shone on their feet as they lit a lamp. They talked about footprints and what they’d do if they found anyone. How they’d strung up the last visitor and slit him open. They all laughed at this.
I slid the gun out and held it up beside my head. Chances were they had their own weapons. There’d be no way I could take them all on but it felt better to have the pistol to hand. At least I’d be able to take a couple of them down with me.
As the lamplight swung around one of them raised his voice, said he’d found something. They were silent for a moment, all clustered around the tank, looking. This was it. I shuffled back, millimetre by millimetre. I came to the far side and slid out. Staying low I moved down the row, behind the other vehicles in the direction of the Eblis. Where I thought it was. The men were still standing around the tank, their lamp swinging around but not bright enough to light me. I took short steps, not wanting to trip or make a noise. If I could get far enough away I could put my torch on. Work my way back.
Then there was a shout. A rock flew through the air. Towards me. It bounced off a tank at my side.
I flicked my torch on and ran, thudded across the overgrown tarmac, ready for a bullet to thump into me, knock me off my feet. Then they could grab me and drag me off. Lynch me and slit me open.
There was one shot but it thudded into the ground off to my right. I ran on towards the end of the row, not sure where the Eblis was, where to go. The shell of an armoured car appeared out of the dark and I turned left. There were more shouts from behind me. Even if this wasn’t the right way I needed to put some distance between me and the mob so I picked up the pace.
But there was no sign of the Eblis. The torchlight gave a cone of white in front of me, little else. Another shot came from behind, clanged off the body of a hulk beside me. I ducked behind a personnel-carried, going out into the next row and bending forward to keep below the vehicles’ bodywork.
The men shouted. Feet clumped on the ground.
Then a bright light came on. It shone from a distance, over to my left. A powerful spotlight accompanied by the sound of motors.
It was the Eblis.
Casper and Becky must have heard the shots and powered up. I turned towards the light and ran flat out, sprinting as fast as I could. As soon as I’d gone a few metres it was clear I’d made a mistake. I was a silhouetted, easy to see in the lamp’s beam. Easy to shoot.
Becky’s amplified voice came from the Eblis. ‘Lie down, Trent,’ she said.
I dropped to the ground, fell on the stones and weeds. Knocked the air out of myself.
A second later a machine gun roared. In the stillness of The Graveyard it was deafening. A stream of shots clattered over my head, rattling and tinkling off tanks. One ricocheted into the soil near my head,
Then it stopped. Silence. Behind me I heard a couple of voices shouting, crying out. Swearing. Then the gun fired again, a short burst. Stopped. This time there were no voices.
I glanced back. The tank’s headlamp caught an irregular pile. Shadowed outlines in the mist, arms, legs and heads at odd angles laid out between the rotting shells. A hand twisted out as if to catch a ball.
I walked back towards the Eblis, sticking to the side and leaving clear space just in case one of the men had survived and tried something. As I climbed the turret the Eblis’ gun fired a couple of times, a figure falling back into the dim pile of bodies.
Back inside the vehicle Becky thanked me when I handed over the meter and wires. ‘That got complicated,’ she said.
‘Yeah. ‘On the monitor the bodies lay spot lit. Still. ‘Thanks.’
‘You okay?’
‘Fine.’
Casper stared into his sight. ‘Think that’s it,’ he said.
Becky already had her hands on the controls. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
We reversed out of the parade ground of rotting hulks. Dead bodies. We left The Graveyard for the second time that evening
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Strip Down
WE DROVE ON THROUGH the darkness for some time. The Eblis lumbered along as Becky kept the speed down. Watched the dials. The vehicle’s lights were off yet I could see the road ahead on the monitor: overgrown hedgerows and meadows of weeds. Everything around us, in blacks and greens.
We turned off down a track taking us up to an abandoned farm. Around it were fields of weeds. There was a large yard and Becky pulled up in the middle of it.
‘Listen,’ she said.
There were no sounds. No movement on the screens. We were between several buildings: there was a barn with a roof that had partially collapsed. It lay angled like the bow of a ship. Opposite was a farmhouse with cracked and distorted windows from fire damage. Its interior was dark, lifeless. Beside it was a pile of timber that must have once been another barn.
‘Looks dead.’ I grabbed the pistol and squeezed past Casper. Popped the hatch and went out.
Mist hung over the buildings. The air smelled of damp grass and hot metal from the tank. It gave off of ticks and gurgles but otherwise there was no sound.
Becky came and stood by me. ‘We had to shoot them,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘They wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you.’
‘I’m sure.’ Of all the things we’d done it was one that bothered me the least.
She came round and stood in front of me. ‘Look, Trent, this trip…’ She took a deep breath and kicked at the ground. ‘Now we’ve got the parts. We can fix the tank. It’s going to be fine.’
‘Right.’ I wasn’t sure what this speech was for. What she wanted from me. All I knew was I was probably going to leave as soon as we got further into Scotland. They could head off to their dream town but once I got juice I was off.
‘We never did see Nico or the Round Up crew.’
‘There’s still time.’
She shook her head. ‘I’d guess they’ve gone back. Or Casper finished them off.’
‘I guess.’ It seemed likely but Nico was tough. A survivor. And if he was alive he’d be after us: until he got us.
Casper came out and joined us. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Fine,’ said Becky. ‘Look, it’s too dark to fit the parts tonight. We’ll have to do it first thing.’
I offered to collect firewood while they explored the buildings and gave them a clean sweep. Made sure there was no one hanging around.
There were plenty of old rafters scattered around so I gathered them up and dumped them in corner of the barn. Once Becky and Casper had had a good look around she drove the tank into the barn and we set up a section of busted metal roof alongside it to make a sheltered area.
We lit a fire and warmed up tinned vegetables. Becky talked about the replacement components they’d picked up. It wasn’t a particularly technical conversation but I lost interested after a while and rolled out my bedding, lying back on the packed-earth floor. The pistol was stashed at my side, just in case. As I fell asleep I thought of Scotland and the mountains. The empty Highlands away from the gangs of the border.
But I slept badly, reliving events in Faeston with Round Up and Sophie. Beating up kids and making false promises. Hanging around in my flat with the documents on Gehenna. I dreamt about the pile of bodies, the ones Casper had shot in the camp. Another where I’d found a pile of bones; nearly ended up in it. That was the one that woke me up.
I sat up in my sleeping bag and looked around. Becky and Casper were still asleep. The fire was a pile of ash and faint light came through from far side of the barn.
I slid on some clothes, taking my pistol. The Eblis was slimy with dew, cold to my touch. I walked round it and through the yard, over to a gate. The sun fought through mist that cloaked the fields. At the side of the farmhouse I undid my trousers and took a piss. It steamed onto the ground as two jackdaws rose up from a chimney stack. The birds flapped off and I did my fly.
There was movement across at the far side of the farm building, just behind the smashed gate.
A figure stood facing me, a teenage lad, skinny with a mop of hair. When he saw me he ducked behind the wall. I made my way towards him, not too fast but with the pistol raised and cocked.
When I came round the wall he faced me.
He was older than I’d first thought, in his late teens, sunken eyed and gaunt. He wore a sweatshirt and jeans. The clothes were faded and holed but clean. He stared at me but didn’t speak.
‘Who are you?’ I said.
He half turned and looked out across the field. Then he faced me again. ‘Got any food?’ he said. His voice was muffled, like there was something stuck in his mouth.
I waved the gun at him. ‘No.’ Not for him at least. Some fella wandering around in the wilds.
‘I’m really hungry.’ His mouth dropped at the edges as if he was going to cry. ‘Hungry.’
I kept the gun on him but he didn’t seem interested. Or bothered. ‘Where’ve you come from?’
He pointed across the field. ‘I’m out of food.’
‘Sorry. I’ve got nothing.’
He nodded but didn’t say any more.
‘I think you should go home.’
He nodded again then walked off. Through the gate and across the mist-heavy field. He didn’t slow or stop so I left him to it. I turned and walked off back into the barn. He didn’t seem like a threat but he wasn’t my responsibility. The country was full of people who were hungry. I sat down on my bedding as Casper and Becky slept.
We had food but it wasn’t my job to help him. He’d just have to sort himself out.
I lay back on my bedding.
It wasn’t up to me to save people. He’d just have to starve.
I sat up and went over to Becky’s bag, grabbed a tin of beans, proper old-world ones, and took it and a can-opener and spoon. As I walked across the farmyard I drew the gun out again. Maybe it was a trap and there’d be a bunch of lads waiting all tooled up. Maybe they sent him as bait.
When I got back to the spot I’d last seen he was still there, in the field. He must have stopped walking as soon as I gone. I slid the gun away. ‘Hey!’ I shouted.
He turned back towards me. When I held the can up he walked over. I offered him the can, can opener and spoon. He grinned and took them, opening up and scooping out the cold beans.
I stood there as he ploughed through them until he scrapped out every speck of sauce and leant back with his head facing up and eyes shut. The can, spoon and opener slid from his fingers.
Then he moved fast and dropped to his knees. Before I had time to grab the gun he was down on the ground, hands clasped together. With whispered words he prayed. I smiled at this. He was like Rory, my crazy god-fearing brother. He’d not been able to take a sip of water without thanking God or Jesus. Seemed this lad was the same. He finished then stood and smiled. He grabbed up the can, spoon and opener, handing them to me.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
He turned and walked off, back into the mist and across the field. Within seconds he vanished from sight.
If it wasn’t for the empty tin and dirty spoon I’d not believe he’d existed.
I took them and returned to the barn. Lay back on my bedding again and watched the barn brighten up.
Casper woke with a grunt. He found the can and spoon but didn’t seem impressed that I’d eaten the beans. I spared him the story of the lad just in case he fancied tracking him down with the Eblis. Shooting him in the back of the head.
Once Becky was awake they set to work on the tank. As they leant into the engine compartment I took a walk around the farm. The mist had cleared and the autumn sun cut through the cool air, crisp. Golden light on the overgrown fields. There was no sign of the lad or anyone else. Just the weed-filled earth that ran off towards overgrown hedgerows and a copse of brown-leafed trees on the horizon.
For a minute I leant against the fence as Becky and Casper clattered on behind me.
There was a flash of light from the trees. A few seconds later it came again but this time there was a sound. Like something heavy being dropped. Becky and Casper were still busy and there was nothing for me to do. I checked I had the gun then walked across the field. Towards the light.
The ground was rutted and covered with thick plants: dandelions, coarse grass and thistles, still damp from the mist. I kept an eye on the copse. There was no movement. No sign that anyone was there.
As I got closer I saw that there was a structure hidden in the trees. Tall, man made. There was a fence around the patch of woods and I could make out the outline of something else through the branches: a building. I stopped in the middle of the field beside a muddy pool. This was a stupid idea. There could be anyone there. Any number of neo-reivers or crazy people. There were no sounds apart from the clanks that floated over from Casper and Becky.
So I carried on. A trampled path came in from the left so I joined it, where it led up to a section of the fence that was bust. Through the foliage I could see the building. It was brick built with an exhaust and several wires’ conduits running out of it. The structure beside it was a lattice of rusted steel: an old phone transmitter. A branch had fallen from a tree and lay across the top of it. I slid through the fence and walked over towards it with the gun in my hand.
A head popped out of the building and disappeared back in. It was the lad I’d seen earlier. I put the gun away and walked towards him. He looked out again and when he saw me he grinned. In his hand was a mole grip and a tenon saw. For a moment we just faced one another. The building had several small piles set out around. One was of feathers and bones, presumably from the birds and other animals he’d eaten. Another was old food tins flattened and neatly arranged. The third was clothes all folded. There was also a bowl of water set beneath a length of guttering that ran off into the trees. To the side of it a washing line was set up with pegs on it.
‘Hello,’ I said.
The lad put his tools down. He came over and extended his hand. For a second I didn’t respond then I took it and shook it, a ritual I’d almost forgotten. His grip was light, skin soft.
‘I live here,’ he said.
‘Yeah?’
‘My place.’
‘Are you on your own?’
‘Yep. Since Mum and Dad went. You want to look?’
It seemed an odd offer. But he was an odd lad. ‘All right,’ I said.
He stepped back and held out a h
and towards the building. I ducked down and went inside. It was dark and there wasn’t much in there. He had bedding set out on wooden boards. There were more clothes, again neatly folded with two pairs of holed shoes. A mug and plate with cutlery were set to the side and an old telephone lay by the wall. Its wires disappeared through a gap in the bricks.
‘You like it?’ he said.
‘Great,’ I said. ‘Really smart.’
He beamed at this. I went back outside. The wire from the phone ran off towards the transmitter where it was looped around the structure in a knot. There was no sign of anyone else or that there had ever been anyone else.
The lad stared at me, eyebrows raised like he was waiting for me to do something. Now I was here and I’d seen him I wasn’t really sure what I’d come over for. Curiosity or something.
‘Well, nice to have met you,’ I said.
‘Yep.’
I started to walk backwards. ‘Bye.’
He stared at me but didn’t move so I backed off a little more then turned around. As I passed through the fence I glanced back. He had his hands at his side, immobile. Then he ducked into the building and started clattering around.
I crossed the field as the sun rose up over the farm buildings, warming the air. It had been a waste of time going going over to the trees but it hadn’t done any harm. Becky and Casper were busy and I’d had time to fill. The lad was on his own though he seemed to have everything he needed, so that was all fine.
I came to the farmyard and carried on towards the tank. Casper and Becky stood beside it, the engine’s cover still up and tools lined up on the ground.
‘Is it fixed?’ I said.
‘Hmm,’ said Becky but her eyes weren’t on me.
‘Who the fuck is he?’ said Casper, pointing.
I turned.
The lad was behind me, close up, holding a bundle of clothes and his plate and cutlery. He grinned. ‘These your friends?’
The four of us stood without talking. The lad was tapping his foot.
Eventually Casper spoke. ‘Who the fuck is he?’