by RR Haywood
‘…Yes.’
‘Which one?’
‘It’s both.’
‘It can’t be both.’
‘It is both.’
‘If you had to choose one…which would it be?’
‘Neither, I’d drink it.’
‘If you couldn’t drink it…’
‘Why can’t I drink it?’
‘Er…it’s poisoned.’ Stupid thing to say.
‘I drank poisoned water? Why would I do that?’
‘You didn’t know it was poisoned.’
‘Who poisoned it?’
‘Doesn’t matter, look you just can’t drink it okay? You’ve had half and it’s not poisoned but you just cannot drink the other half.’
‘Okay.’
‘So what would you call it?’
‘Useless.’
‘Useless?’
‘I can’t drink it. It’s useless.’
‘Shall we get that coffee machine plugged in?’
‘Okay Mr Howie.’
Nick and the lads piss about on the bridge, laughing at each other taking turns to drive the boat. The rest of us try and sort through the kit loaded on board and find a plug socket for the coffee machine. I say try because the lad’s hard turns as they egg each other on send us flying about all over the place until Dave, already looking very unhappy at being on the boat, opens the door to the bridge and says something loud enough for them to hear. Whatever it was, it was effective as the boat immediately settled down to a more relaxed pace and in a straight line.
‘Well done Dave,’ Clarence rumbles appreciatively. The image of Lani pressed so close to my body in the engine room keeps flashing through my mind. Her beautiful face staring up at me, her eyes closing gently as she waited for the kiss that never happened and then the fleeting look of disappointment flashing across. Shit, this is the end of the world. I should be grabbing her hand now and pulling her to one side so I can snog her face off so we can fall to a heap on the floor.
‘You okay Mr Howie, you’re staring at my hand,’ Lani interrupts my thoughts, bringing me back to earth with a jump.
‘Eh? What? Yeah I was miles away,’ I reply.
‘Are you getting it on or what?’ Clarence asks from a few feet away.
‘What?’ I feel a mild sense of panic rising in my voice.
‘The coffee machine, did you get it on?’
‘Yes! It’s on,’ I blurt back quickly as he gives me a strange stare and Lani laughs softly.
‘Your face,’ she whispers from the side of her mouth.
‘This is your fault,’ I reply with an accusing stare.
‘My fault? Why because you were staring at my hand?’
‘I wasn’t thinking about your hand…’
‘Oh, what then?’
Damn it, why does she have to ask that, ‘nothing,’ I shrug, busying myself with the machine and trying to figure out how it works. A row of buttons on the top plinth, small lights underneath them and images of small cups, big cups, two cups.
‘Need some help?’ Lani asks and steps in close. Her small but deadly hand lifts as she runs her slender fingers along the buttons, ‘we need this one,’ she points to a button marked with a picture of two cups. She smiles and leans past me to take two mugs from a box, her face tantalisingly close to mine again. Next she pulls a bag of coffee beans and shoves a load into a glass tube at the top of the machine. Pressing a button and the coffee is ground and pushed into a huge metal spoon, more like a mini shovel.
‘How do you know how to do this?’ I ask mesmerised as I watch her deftly work the controls.
‘We had one in a place I worked,’ she replies. I miss what she does next but suddenly the two mugs are beneath two spouts pouring the hot thick liquid into the bowls.
‘We need milk really, can you start opening those portions and pour them into here,’ she passes me a metal jug. My fingers fumble for the plastic lip of the small UHT milk portion. I get it open and pour the meagre contents into the jug. She stares at me, grabs one and rips the top off quickly pouring the contents in. I take another one and match her pace, she does another and we rip through them. Taking our frustrations out on the defenceless plastic pots which get mercilessly tossed onto the floor, discarded and unwanted. The white milk gets poured in, more follows as more pots fall from our hands like glistening brass shells from the GPMG. Eyes narrow and widen, mouths twitch as the portions are abused, penetrated and thrown away. The jug slowly fills and our hands work quickly. My god she is beautiful, soft lips that part to show white teeth, pink tongue darting out to moisten them. High cheek bones, the angle of her eyes, silken black raven hair cascading down her shoulders. Milk spurts on her thumb as she presses too hard on the flimsy lid, the white liquid rolls down her digit as she raises it to her lips and quickly licks the dairy juice away.
The jug gets filled, our feet covered in the wasted pots. She takes the jug and shoves the solid shaft of a metal pipe into the liquid. Turning a knob and something hisses loudly, the milk steams and froths, she watches me watching her. Bubbles form and blow on the surface as the shaft steams and rapidly heats the milk. She dials the knob back down and takes the two mugs already filled with the thick espresso coffee.
Slowly she upends the milk pot and pours the frothed thick liquid into the mugs. Gently spooning the creamy liquid out she fills the mugs and pushes them slightly towards me.
‘Dave, Clarence…coffee,’ I call out. The lads appear and reach over, gently removing the cups from between Lani and me.
‘I’ll go and see if the boys want a coffee,’ she says before moving off and disappearing through the door to the bridge.
Sighing and breathing out I turn round and rub the stress from my forehead, stretching and rolling my shoulders too. Opening my eyes I see Clarence and Dave both stood a few feet away, holding frothed cups of coffee and watching me with interest. The mug looks ridiculous in Clarence’s huge paw.
‘What?’ I ask as they both stare without speaking.
‘Nothing boss,’ Clarence smiles and sips at his coffee, ‘very nice,’ he murmurs.
‘Yeah she is,’ I sigh and hold my hands up exasperated, ‘really bloody nice and I’m a bumbling bloody fool.’
‘I meant the coffee,’ Clarence says.
‘Oh.’
‘And she’s stood behind you.’
‘Oh.’
‘We’ll be outside, come on Dave let’s have a look at the engine room.’
I turn round slowly, a look of extreme discomfort on my face as I see Lani stood there, expressionless and staring.
‘I…er…’ Stuttering I take a breath and get myself in order.
‘You got it going then? Can I have a go?’ Nick bursts out from the door and starts examining the machine, running his not so slender fingers over the buttons and murmuring to himself quietly.
‘Is it working then?’ Cookey comes through next, followed by Tom as they gather round the machine.
‘You’ll need these opened and poured in here,’ I show them the boxes of milk portions and the metal jug. The frustration eases as we stand round laughing and joking as the milk portions are ripped open. The lads chucking them at each other as Clarence and Dave come back inside, the big man giving me an apologetic shrug as he watches the lads messing about. I smile back to show no hard feelings.
Coffee is made for everyone. Proper coffee with steamed milk and sugar and the strong espresso fires us all up as the laughs get louder. Gathering on the bridge we open the two side doors and let the warm air flow in. I stroll outside and sit on the public benches, enjoying a proper coffee and a smoke in a warm beautiful relaxed setting. The boxes of muffins, cakes and bread sticks get passed round. We sit there munching in the middle of the sea and watching the blue waters surrounding us.
‘So what’s our situation?’ I ask everyone.
‘We’re almost out of shotgun shells,’ Dave replies, ‘no pistol rounds left, just axes and knives.’
‘So if that had c
arried on last night we could have been in the shit,’ Blowers says.
‘But it didn’t,’ Clarence replies, ‘don’t think like that, it’ll mess your head up.’
‘I know we’re all super hard zombie killers now, but we ain't gonna last long without proper guns and bullets,’ Cookey adds, his point serious for once.
‘The shotguns are good in a tight spot,’ Blowers continues, ‘but we need those assault rifles really.’
‘We’ll have to go for another base then I guess,’ I say looking at Dave and Clarence, ‘we could try and load up before we get back to the fort. That’ll give Chris a nice surprise.’
‘It certainly would, but I don’t know any army bases anywhere round here,’ Clarence says.
‘Don’t need army bases,’ Dave cuts in, ‘this is navy territory, we go for them.’
‘A navy base?’ I ask, ‘seems obvious, do you know any?’
‘How about navy ships?’ Lani asks, ‘like that one.’ She points towards Portsmouth harbour in the distance. The bulk of a light blue greyish coloured navy ship anchored in amongst the backdrop of cluttered vessels and buildings.
‘Aye aye, Blowers you know some navy lads can’t you wave a signal flag or something’ Cookey jokes, to a sputter of laughing from Tom. Great, another person that finds his jokes funny.
Blowers, too busy with a mouthful of muffin to reply simply sticks two fingers up and smiles as crumbs spill from his mouth, Tom giggles, Cookey smirks knowingly and Blowers coughs with laughter showering everyone with bits of damp muffin.
‘You dirty bastard,’ Nick jumps up brushing his clothes off as the rest of us giggle from the sight of Blowers trying desperately not to laugh at Cookey.
‘Do navy ships have assault rifles on them?’ I ask when everyone has settled down, ‘or is that a really stupid question?’
‘Yes they do and….’Dave stares at me with a wicked pause, ‘no it’s not.’ Another joke from the silent killer. Things are certainly looking up. But that just makes me look round in a state of rising panic. Nothing bad has happened for the last hour, no zombies, the ship hasn’t sunk, and no sign of pirates swinging cutlasses at us. Something bad always happens and generally it’s every bloody half an hour.
‘They have detachments of Marines on board,’ Blowers explains, ‘nearly all ships have them, or at least an on-board armoury so they can do vessel boarding and things, repel attacks at close quarters,’ he continues.
‘What about the GPMG? Do they have them too?’ Cookey asks.
‘Sort off,’ Blowers nods, ‘they have fixed guns and things on the ships, we can have a look and see what ammunition they got in the armoury.’
‘Plan then,’ I smile, ‘we go for that navy ship and see what we can find, unless they blow us up on the way in or something…then we load up and get round to the fort with our shiny new boat.’
‘Yeah because our plans always work out so straight forward,’ Nicks mutters, voicing the thoughts nearly all of us are having.
‘Er…who is driving the boat?’ Clarence suddenly asks, looking round at everyone gathered in one place.
‘Cookey you said you were doing it,’ Blowers says quickly.
‘Piss off,’ Cookey shouts back, ‘I never did, it’s your turn.’
‘Someone drive the bloody thing,’ I shout over them and get two sorry expressions and two “sorry Mr Howie’s” as they push and shove each other into the bridge.
‘Nick, do you want to do it mate? You’ve had the most practice.’
‘On it,’ Nick stuffs another blueberry muffin in his mouth and heads into the bridge.
Eight
‘It’s good, very good,’ Maddox nods in satisfaction from the top of the now erected guard tower. With a clear view down the street opposite and a decent view down the roads running off to the left and right. Darius has fastened thick planks of wood along the northern side, giving cover to anyone climbing up and down. More thick high planks on the top level giving waist high cover.
‘We need a spot light up here,’ Maddox says to his friend.
‘I’ll sort it,’ Darius agrees, ‘we can use some of the solar panels from the grows and rig something up, or a generator for now. What we doing with the houses then?’
‘We’ll use them as crew houses, let each crew have one. But we got to check ‘em all first, make sure they’re the same…’
‘Yeah right,’ Darius interrupted, ‘don’t give any of ‘em something the others ain’t got. It’ll kick off bruv.’
‘Fact,’ Maddox nods, ‘I don’t like the idea of crews being in the two end houses, these ones closest to the junction. The top windows will be used for spotters anyway, so we’ll stick with the other houses. Eight of them, eight crews, figures just right.’
‘What about us?’ Darius asks.
‘We use the units, me, you, Lenski and the girls.’
‘What about Sierra?’
‘She gets a house with her crew, down to you innit if you want private time, you figure it out.’
‘Fair one,’ Darius smiles, already looking forward to some secret night time sneaking about in the dark for a fumble with his girlfriend.
‘Get the crews gathered by the pit, we’ll get the chiefs and the girls to go through their bedding while we check the houses and make sure they’re ready.’
‘You gonna get them in tonight?’ Darius asks with surprise.
‘Yeah why not? Liam looks about ready to take on your crew so we just need one more chief for Rykers.’
‘Put Mohammed on Rykers crew,’ Darius advises, ‘he’ll get ‘em sorted out and we’ll get Mohammed to choose one from his crew to step up. Liam will be fine with my crew, they’re pretty good already.’
‘Good idea,’ Maddox looks with gratitude at Darius for his quick thinking, ‘right you get the crews together and we’ll give them the good news.’
Darius climbs down leaving Maddox alone and staring out over the gates. Just in one morning and a few hours of the afternoon he’s drastically changed the compound. Extended it, made a bigger space and changed the mind-set of a few youths. He knew that although the youths had lived hard lives full of violence and excess, they were also young enough to adapt and maybe within a little while he could show them a better way. The survivors out there needed to know the compound was off limits, simply because the children needed a safe place and they were ready and willing to do what it took to make it safe. But maybe they could reach an agreement, one less deadly to the survivors, something that meant they could live side by side. That would take time, but Maddox knows the one thing they do have plenty of is time.
He climbs down the tower and makes his way slowly to the back of the compound, walking steadily down the street he thinks it needs a name, something personal to them all. With a smile he thinks of the perfect name instantly.
Rounding the end of the unit he walks towards the pit, rolling his eyes at the filth encrusted youths, grimy from brick dust and grease, faces blackened, hands covered in dirt. But they smile and joke with each other. Instead of looking pale and sickly the youths looked flushed with red cheeks, dressed in t shirts and vests, hoodies off. They look like children Maddox muses as he takes his place by the log.
‘Good work today,’ he starts off quickly, ‘we got loads done and made ourselves our own street. I was thinking about a name for it,’ he looks round watching them looking at him expectantly, ‘Zayden Street,’ smiles and nods all around, a few eyes fill with tears. ‘We got ten houses in Zayden Street, five on each side. The last two next to the junction will be used by guards and for storage. The others will be crew houses, one house for each crew.’ Cheers erupt from the youths. Rumour had spread that this would be the plan, and the chiefs had been asked continually all day and had to admit they didn’t know either. ‘One house each, but we got to sort them out before you get into them. A few things first.’ Maddox waves his hands up and down, appealing for quiet. The youths respond with a few comments from chiefs and older kids. ‘L
iam, you are now crew chief for Darius’s crew…’ More cheers as Liam’s face splits in half from the huge grin running ear to ear, youths surround him, patting him on the back. Maddox and Darius share a quick nod, knowing a good decision has been made. ‘Mohammed, you gonna take Ryker’s old crew on and we need you to choose someone to step up for crew chief, have a think bruv,’ Maddox watches the serious lad nod back. Knowing he’ll understand the need for Ryker’s crew to be under good leadership for a while. ‘Darius, Lenski and me will be in the units so we get a bit of space from you lot,’ a few laughs, ‘and maybe Sierra will be popping over once in a while so Sierra, make sure you choose a good deputy for when you’re sneaking about to see Darius,’ more laughs. ‘Crew chiefs, I want the bedding checked for everyone. Nothing dirty or smelly is going in those houses and they get cleaned before they get used. We still got a lot to do. Get your tents organised and let Lenski and the girls know if you need clean bedding. We’ll be checking the houses to see what they need.’
‘Xbox’s and weed,’ a youth shouts to an outbreak of giggling.
‘Xbox? Maybe…Weed…not yet.’ Maddox answers quickly, letting the firm tones of authority into his voice. ‘Darius,’ Maddox nods at the older lad standing nearby.
‘Yeah, from tonight. One crew will be in charge of security. The compound is too big for a few to be used now. One crew will stay up and do the guarding, the tower, some in the bedrooms of the end houses and patrols in the base too. That crew will be given the next morning off to sleep.’
‘Questions?’ Maddox shouts out.
‘Do we have to use the houses? I like the tents.’ A voice calls out.
‘We’ll see,’ Maddox replies, using the universal get out reply relied on by millions of teachers, parents and guardians since time began.
The afternoon stretches on as Maddox, Darius and Lenski move from house to house, working out how many beds they will need, what rooms should be used as bedrooms, if the chiefs should have their own rooms. Bedding, pillows, lights, weapons, power supply, toilet, toilet rolls, clean water, wipes…Lenski scribbles furiously on her clipboard as the lads discuss the options and work out solutions. Crew chiefs sort through sleeping bags and blankets, helped by the girls who now have the confidence to come out of the units, seeing the children as children for the first time and not hardened gangsters swaggering about smoking drugs and showing off with weapons.