“Jade, get us out of here!” barked father.
I snapped out of my inertia, stabbing the accelerator pedal hard. Some of the Troggies leapt clear. Then we felt a bump. ZOOTWOSOME! We’d just run over one who wasn’t quick enough. I hoped briefly that it wasn’t a child. I didn’t have time to think about it, keeping my foot on the accelerator pedal as we reversed out of the street at speed. They were still pursuing us. Wendy screamed when a rock hit the rear window, showering them with glass. I didn’t let it distract me, keeping my foot down hard on the accelerator pedal. Getting us out of there was all I could think of right then. Father wound down the window on the front, passenger side as he drew his holstered revolver for the first time. He fired at the Troggies. His revolver cracked twice. I saw one stumble and fall. The others hesitated. It had given them something to think about. When we reached the top of the street, I shifted rapidly into forward and accelerated away.
We were back in the Green Zone. It had been a close call.
I and the others were relieved as we turned into Crown Dale Close. What had started out as an exciting day out shopping in the morning had almost turned into a nightmare for us.
When father closed the big, heavy gates behind us, we felt a sense of relief and security. We were safely home once more in our citadel.
The Land-Rover had suffered only minor damage. We unloaded the trailer.
“No more shopping trips from now on, girls,” said father sternly as he took a case of tinned stuff from the Land-Rover.
Wendy and I murmured in agreement.
He added, “This last trip should see us through the winter without making more out.”
Although hoarding was banned, most people who could afford to did. I should imagine the lawmakers in parliament did too.
As I passed my parents’ room later on my way to Wendy’s, I overheard them discussing something. It sounded important. They had left their bedroom door ajar. I thought that they were arguing at first, though they rarely do. They agree to disagree. I paused, biting my lip. I listened on the door. I was being curious. No, I was being nosy again.
“Michael phoned me earlier,” said father.
Michael is daddy’s older brother. Wendy and I call him ‘Uncle Mike.’ He’s charming and funny. He’s big and hairy too. He loves giving us girls bear hugs whenever we visit.
“What did he have to say for himself?” asked mother who didn’t sound very pleased.
“He wants us to move in with him,” revealed father after a short pause.
Oh? I thought. Uncle Mike runs a remote hill farm in Wales. He keeps sheep. We spent our Easter holidays there some years ago. We haven’t visited for awhile.
“He thinks London and the other big cities are becoming too dangerous now, what with the Roamers and Troggies. He reckons it’s safer in the countryside.” Daddy.
“What did you tell him, Frank?” Mum.
“I said that if we ever do decide to leave London, it would be a family decision, Myra.” Daddy.
“Would you?” Mum.
I didn’t hear my father’s reply.
Then someone not a thousand miles away tugged my hand, making me jump. Tommy looked up at me with his large, blue, inquisitive eyes.
“Fade, what you doing?” asked my brother.
My eyes widened with surprise and alarm when the bedroom door opened wider in front of me.
Mum wore a peculiar look on her face. “Jade?”
Oh, DROKK! I thought.
Wendy and I slipped into casuals. We listened to old pop disks in her room, lying on her bed. I sat up on my elbows studying her face. She had her eyes closed. I brushed some untidy strands of silky, blonde hair away from her eyes. She remained my beautiful, elder sister.
She opened her eyes puzzled. “What?”
I revealed, “I overheard mum and dad talking about some things earlier, Wendy.”
She smirked. “Listening on doors again, were we, Jade Robinson?”
I laughed and threw a pillow at her. She tossed it back. Then it quickly developed into an old-fashioned pillow fight. We collapsed into a heap on the bed, giggling loudly.
We lay on the bed for some moments catching our breath. We were a little exhausted. Wendy slipped her hand into mine, squeezing it tightly.
Wendy asked, “So, what did you overhear, Jade?”
“Mum and dad were talking about leaving London and going to live with Uncle Mike in deepest Wales,” I answered.
She looked shocked. “In Wales?”
I nodded.
“I’ll never leave London,” vowed Wendy frowning. “We were all born in this beautiful house. I love this place. It’s our home. It’s everything. It’s full of all our memories, good and bad, sad too. No, I could never leave this place, Jade.”
I played with her long strands of gold. “We might have to one day, Wendy.”
“Driven out by the Troggies and the Roamers,” said Wendy bitterly.
I fondly stroked her flushed cheek. “It may never come to that, Sis.”
“It will.”
We drew closer together lying on the bed. We kissed.
Wendy and I went downstairs later. We found mum in the kitchen making tea. Dad was outside on the roof, replacing some tiles, which had blown off during a bad storm in the night. They were more frequent these days. I blamed the comet once more for changing our weather patterns all over the world. Tommy sat under the table eating one of mum’s homemade cakes. He was shoeless. He grinned happily when he saw Wendy and I.
“We’re going out to feed the rabbits, Mum,” I announced.
“Tea won’t be too long, girls,” said mum.
I smiled inwardly. Although the coming of the comet had probably changed the world forever, it hadn’t changed teatime at the Robinson household. It was part of our familiar routine. It was part of our family life. It was unbroken continuity. Wendy was right. We could never leave here whatever the future threw at us. We would withstand the storms. I smiled when Wendy put her arm around me as we stepped out of the back door together.
Tommy, who had finished his cake, joined us outside a few moments later. He loved playing with the rabbits. He called them his friends. We took him to see his friends.
The tall, steel water barrels stood in a row against the high wall like silent sentinels guarding our property. Since the water supplies had become more erratic with every passing day, the water barrels were no longer an option for many people in the Close. Man cannot live without water. The occasional black rain can cause problems, so father had filters fitted to the water barrels to overcome that. We now depend on heaven to give us a lot of our water and not the local water company.
While the others waited anxiously, I opened the cage and took out Tessa. She didn’t object when I carefully examined her belly.
“Well, Jade?” asked Wendy.
I nodded.
Wendy was pleased. “That’s fantastic.”
Tommy was worried though. “Fade, what’s wrong with Tessa?”
“She’s expecting little babies again, Tommy,” I answered, sounding like the proud parent herself.
He wore a baffled expression on his face. “How, Fade?”
Wendy and I laughed.
“I’ll explain it to you one day when you’re older, Tommy,” I promised.
As I came out of the shed with the rabbits’ feed stuff, I noticed father gazing intently at something from the rooftop, puzzling me. What was he looking at? Then I saw it too. A plume of thick, black smoke rose above the rooftops. My blood went cold.
“Inside everybody!” shouted father as he quickly climbed down the steel ladder.
Wendy and I took the rabbits and hurried inside with Tommy and father. It had come to Crown Dale Close.
OH, DROKK! ZOOTWOSOME! VENUS PEBBLES!
“Shutters!” barked daddy urgently, though he remained calm.
We flew around the rooms downstairs and upstairs, closing
the shutters. The house was secure. I prayed that it was secure.
We gathered in my parents’ room upstairs. We waited. Although we were all a little scared, I felt confident that the high wall would deter them. The Roamers liked easy pickings. We had made it very difficult for them. Our fortress home would hold whatever came.
Tommy seemed oblivious to what was going on around him as he played with the rabbits, his little friends, who ran around the room excitedly.
We heard the angry voices and the shouts outside as they passed our house and saw the high wall and big, heavy gates. We jumped with fright when three, loud thumps hit the heavy, steel shutters. More followed. I covered my ears. But the shutters held. Then I noticed that Tommy and Tessa were missing. They were missing.
As I leaned over the banisters at the top of the stairs, I saw Tommy with Tessa under his arm, trying to open the front door; though he was having some difficulty reaching the heavy bolts that dad had fitted when he had reinforced all the doors with steel plate.
“Tommy!” I hissed. “Come up here at once.”
He turned and looked up, grinning. “Tommy take Tessa walkies, Fade.”
I flew down the stairs in a second. “You mustn’t take Tessa outside, Tommy. There are some very horrid people out there.” That was an understatement. “Let’s go back upstairs with mummy and daddy.”
He wore a puzzled look on his face briefly. “Not Wendy?”
I laughed.
I took Tommy and Tessa back upstairs, giving him a piggyback ride.
Father checked cautiously later, giving the all-clear, but the shutters remained closed.
Wendy and I shared in my room that evening because my bed was larger than hers. It had more leg room. Doubling-up with your elder sister was fun when you were scared of things in the night. We were often scared of things in the day too. You shared it together. We did a lot of it when we were small. It was like that again. Then we feared child-eating witches and wicked fairies. They were imaginary characters from our picture books. The nasty, vicious street gangs beyond our walls weren’t imaginary. They were real enough. Wendy ignored my objections when she brought in her favourite teddies. My older sister was like a big kid. She hadn’t grown up yet. I gave all of my old teddies to Tommy sometime ago. She laid one on my pillow. I was going to spend the night with two glass eyes watching me as I slept. His name was Freddie, her favourite. She put the rest of her teddies around the room watching over us. I suspected that her teddies were something to hold onto in the dark nights, comforting her in these bleak times. They were her protectors too. We undressed and disappeared under the covers in our satin pyjamas.
She talked about boys. They were her favourite subject. “When things return to normal, I’m going out to a night club in the bright lights of the West End, find the best-looker there, and snog him rotten till his lips fall off.”
We giggled loudly, forgetting for awhile.
“You?”
“Finish 6th form college and pass my A-levels,” I answered. I was being more practical than my sister.
“Jade, do you think it will ever return to normal?”
I couldn’t answer Wendy’s question because no one knew that.
We lapsed into silence for awhile, each with her own thoughts that she couldn’t share with the other. My beautiful, long limbed older sister stirred beside me. I felt her breath on my cheek in the dark. Her sweet perfume filled my delicate nostrils making me feel a little dizzy and light-headed. As she sleepily laid her head deep in my shoulder, I stroked her hair lovingly. She fell asleep quickly.
Something woke me.
With the shutters closed, I couldn’t tell whether or not it was still dark outside. How long had I slept? I turned on the oil lamp by my bed and checked my watch. It was 1 a.m. in the morning. I looked around me. The strange, alien creatures in my room were still watching over us with frozen expressions on their faces, offering us their wisdom and love. I quickly reminded myself that they were stuffed toys. I glanced at Wendy. She was sleeping beside me clutching Freddie. I changed my mind. The teddies were more than stuffed toys. They had souls too. A fine tousle of blonde hair formed a silky spray on the pillow. Wendy was sucking her thumb like a contented infant sleeping beneath her blankets. I stared at her troubled. She had my love always, and she knew that. I lovingly stroked her cheek before I kissed her. I smiled when she frowned, brushing it away in her sleep. Then I heard the murmur of voices coming from downstairs.
I was puzzled.
I rose without disturbing Wendy. I put on a dressing gown over my pyjamas. I was inquisitive too. I slipped out of the room.
Looking back once or twice, I crept downstairs barefoot, carefully avoiding the ones that always seemed to creak in the dead of night when you couldn’t sleep. The living room door was ajar. I bit my lip, peering through the gap.
A group of people sat around the living room drinking tea or coffee or whatever from mother’s best bone china cups and saucers beneath the oil lamps after another power cut. I recognised one or two faces from the Close, the Braithwaites, the Party People from Number 24 and Tom Finch, a retired army colonel, a kindly, gentle man, who saw action in the Gulf Wars at the end of the last century, from Number 34. He was wounded twice. They were our neighbours. Mr Martin was also there with his plump wife. Then I caught a glimpse of daddy. He was sitting in the armchair, lighting his favourite pipe, which had gone out again, with a match. I couldn’t see mum. What on earth was going on here?
Father rose and addressed the group: “I agree with the last speaker. We shouldn’t let the Roamers and the other street gangs drive us out. These are our homes, and this is our street. Some of us have lived here in the Close all our lives.”
We have, I thought. It was fighting talk from my father. I was pleased. The dusty main street and the man alone wearing a tin star facing down the bad guys slipped into my mind briefly. I let a smile cross my face.
“But how can we protect ourselves against the street gangs, Frank?” asked someone else in the group.
Was it Mr Martin? It sounded like him. I didn’t particularly like him. He was always telling Wendy and I off for riding our bikes up and down the pavement when we were little. He thought that he owned the Close.
“We’ve been forced to turn our homes into virtual fortresses,” complained another.
“It may not be enough,” warned father darkly. “The Roamers or the other street gangs could return tomorrow with hijacked trucks or buses to batter down our gates. It has happened at other places, and that’s why I’ve invited PC Woods around to this meeting of ours to discuss this present crisis.”
As father sat down, I shifted my position slightly behind the door, giving me a better view into our sitting room. I saw him for the first time. The tall VPF cop with the rod-straight back stood up. PC Woods was unshaven, granite-faced with dark, cropped hair, and he wore tinted glasses that made him look even more sinister. I couldn’t tell his age. He wore a holstered sidearm.
He addressed the small gathering in the living room in a deep, unemotional voice: “The VPF is prepared to provide 24/7 cover for this area.”
“And how much will this new, 24/7 cover cost us?” quizzed a cynic in the group.
Was it Mr Martin again? I couldn’t see him through the narrow gap.
Woods remained expressionless.
“Whatever it costs,” answered father in a quiet voice, the man alone wearing the tin star. “We need the VPF.”
The others murmured reluctantly. Father had got his way.
I was suddenly reminded of the scent of wild flowers in an English meadow on a warm summer’s day so long ago. I let the gentle breeze touch my face. How very odd, I thought. I turned around startled. Mother stood behind me with her arms folded sternly.
Oh, DROKK! Again.
I was curious.
I opened the shutters a fraction in my room. The other spoke to someone on his helmet radio briefly before he cl
imbed into his white, VPF armoured vehicle. His headlights cut through the black, starless night as he drove away.
I noticed the red glow on the city horizon troubling me. Yes, we did need the VPF whatever it cost. Daddy was right.
10. THE STRANGER
Early Autumn 2020.
Today is Harvest Day.
I was up early. The other wasn’t. She murmured in her sleep. I looked over my shoulder and glared at the lump under the blankets. Although she is my elder sister, and I do love her lots, she can be a lazy cow sometimes.
I opened the shutters, allowing another morning to creep into my room, though I quickly wish that I hadn’t as I gazed at the sickly sky. It sometimes seems like twilight all day long. Other days, it’s much brighter. Daddy says that nature will take its course in time; the planet will repair itself, and the thick clouds that now cover a large part of our world will disappear one day. Our little world in this infinite universe will be cleansed once more. When will that be? I wonder. One day very soon I hope to open the shutters in the morning and gaze upon a beautiful azure sky. I do live in hope. I’m frightened of forgetting what it looked like. I let out a small sigh as I turned away from the window. It was beginning to depress me.
“Harvest Day, Sis,” I declared, dismissing the other thoughts from my mind quickly.
“Do you have to sound so cheerful first thing, Jade?” asked the muffled voice under the covers.
I laughed.
“What time is it, anyway, Jade?” she inquired.
“Early.”
“Then I’m not getting up till late,” said Wendy petulantly.
“Daddy, who expects our help with the harvest on this very special day, won’t be too pleased if you’re down late to breakfast, Wendy.”
She grunted.
I sat on the bed by the misshapen lump under the blankets. I nudged it with my elbow. Although it murmured, it didn’t move, so I nudged it again, only a little harder this time. I smiled when it finally stirred.
“Do that one more time, Jade Robinson, and I’ll box your ears,” warned Wendy under the blankets.
The Citadel and the Wolves Page 14