by RR Haywood
‘Who killed all the people on road? Who put the bodies so they’re sat up?’
‘We got some ex-army guys here, they said everyone will come and try and take the site…they said we had enough here now like and we couldn’t take no more in…they said it was like the most important fuel depot in the country and we had to defend it….’ He gabbles on, speaking quickly between ragged breaths, ‘they said we had to keep the bodies there to put them off coming here….they come every-day, loads of them like…’
‘So you keep killing them?’
‘We had to, didn’t have no choice like, some said they wouldn’t do it and got beat up like, they said we’re in it together and we had to do it or they’d be kicked out,’ he calms down slightly, just enough for his northern accent to become more apparent.
‘That included raping them as well did it?’
‘I didn’t know nothing about no rape like…I didn’t…I’m married with two kids I ain’t raped no one.’
‘Where did all the guns come from?’
‘The ex-army guys, couple of ‘em were in the territorials and went to their base, they got police guns too from the stations.’
‘They got more guns inside then?’
He nods, his face deathly white with fear.
‘How many?’
‘Loads,’ he replies.
‘Get these weapons into the Saxon,’ I say to the others. They move quickly, running between the bodies and scooping them up, running them to the back doors of the Saxon.
‘We need fuel,’ I say to the man, ‘and you are going to help us get some.’
‘Me? I can’t….they’ll kill me…’
‘We’ll kill you if you don’t,’ I cut him off, ‘your choice and try anything I’ll shoot your fucking cock off and leave you to bleed out.’
‘Someone call for Dave to come down.’
Cookey grabs the loudspeaker, relaying the order. The weapons get collected and put into the vehicle, the lads finishing just as Dave jogs easily through the destroyed gate with the sniper held ready.
‘You alright mate?’
‘Yes Mr Howie.’
‘Good shooting mate.’
‘Thanks Mr Howie.’
‘And the one who surrendered…’
‘Oh him…I thought he had a gun.’
‘Did you bollocks,’ I smile at him. He walks over to the body and rolls it over so its face down. He bends over and pulls a pistol from the dead man’s waistband.
‘How the fuck did you see that?’ I ask him in shock.
‘Through the scope,’ he replies seriously, nodding at the scope on the sniper rifle.
‘Yeah I know that…I meant how did you see it from that distance?’
‘Er…through the scope,’ he replies again.
‘Yeah…forget it, this bloke said they got loads of guns in there, some of them are ex-army or in the territorials and went to their local base…’
‘Oh,’ Dave says.
‘Yeah oh….but, he’s going to help us get to the tankers.’
‘How far away are they?’
‘He says about half a mile.’
‘Oh…okay…do you want me to go and get one?’
He would too. He’d walk there with a bread knife and kill the hundreds of people without breaking a sweat.
‘How you going to bring it back?’ I ask him.
‘Bring what back?’
‘The tanker? How you going to bring it back, you don’t drive.’
‘I’ll get one of them to drive it,’ he shrugs, ‘no big deal.’ He looks at the man kneeling down, ‘have you got heavy weapons in there?’
‘I don’t know,’ he stutters, ‘what are heavy weapons?’
‘Like that one up there,’ Dave points to the GPMG on top of the Saxon.
‘Yeah,’ the man nods, ‘just the one like.’
‘Can you drive the tankers?’ I ask him.
‘No,’ he shakes his head, ‘not me…I just worked in the maintenance department like.’
‘Fuck it, we need the fuel…let’s go now…you’re leading the way,’ I point at him, ‘get up.’
I push the man towards the Saxon, Dave makes him wait while he gets a small length of rope from the vehicle and binds the man’s hands behind his back. Once tied he gets pushed inside and made to stand behind the seats, Blowers and Nick flanking him.
‘Cunt,’ Nick growls at him, ‘you’re a nasty fucking cunt.’
‘Rapist fucking wanker,’ Blowers adds, they both glare at him with hard faces.
‘I didn’t do no raping,’ the man whimpers.
‘Straight down there?’ I ask after getting into the driver’s seat.
‘Aye, straight down that road.’
‘If you tell the truth and help us I promise we’ll let you go, if you lie or do anything stupid you will die…do you understand?’
‘He’s nodding Mr Howie,’ Nick says.
‘Right…here we go.’ The Saxon starts towards the road, I push it quite quickly, intent on making ground before they get time to organise themselves.
‘Keep going,’ the man calls out.
Clarence and Dave quickly swap over, Clarence squeezes his big frame over the seats to get into the passenger side, getting his assault rifle and staring out the front.
‘Next right,’ the man shouts. The road were on is marked as C Avenue, with the sides streets having numbers, like the American grid layout. We pass 12th street then 11th.
‘What street do we need?’
‘Eh?’ The man replies.
‘He’s fucking lying,’ I shout, ‘he should know the layout exactly.’
‘You cunt,’ Blowers punches him in the back of the head, knocking him forward, ‘what fucking road?’
‘Stop…it’s on D Avenue…’
‘Why are we going down C Avenue then?’
‘You fucker,’ Nick shouts as both he and Blowers reign blows down on the man.
‘CONTACT,’ Dave roars. A barricade across the road blocks out progress. A row of vehicle parked end on end with men stood the other side pointing guns at us. They open up first, the muzzle flashes distinct with the sounds of assault rifles. Dave is a split second behind them, firing the GPMG with deadly accuracy. Several men get instantly blown backwards, not realising our aim from this distance would be so good.
‘Where are the tankers?’ Blowers shouts at the man.
‘D Avenue…I swear it like…I swear,’ his voice sounds hoarse and gargled as he spits blood out from his bleeding mouth, ‘fuck…oh fuck…’ the change in his tone makes me turn round. Lani is stood behind him, holding one of her knives against his throat while pulling his hair back.
‘D Avenue…’ He whispers, his voice almost drowned out by the GPMG.
‘Which way?’ Lani shouts.
‘Take a left…go left.’
I twist the wheel, coming off the power and letting the weight of the vehicle slow it enough to take the corner. Dave must turn with the vehicle as the fire continues to be directed straight into the hastily formed barricade.
We enter into 10th street, the last left turn before the barricade. Only a short street with big high chimney stacks soaring into the sky and a complex network of tubes and pipes running everywhere.
‘Which way now?’ I shout.
‘Right…you gotta go right.’
I bring the Saxon to a halt, craning my head down to the right and the vehicles being pushed into position as more men run into the area.
‘The tanker yard is past them….you gotta get past them,’ he yelps as Lani digs the knife into his neck.
‘Dave…we’re going through…’
‘Roger that Mr Howie,’ Dave shouts back. I turn the wheel and push my foot down hard as the engine builds to a huge roar.
Shots ring off the outside of the vehicle as we draw closer to the vehicles. Dave opens up, firing into them and killing men as they run about.
‘Brace,’ I shout a warning, which unfortunately is too lat
e. The vehicle jolts as it impacts the first vehicle, shunting it out the way. From behind me I hear muted curses and a funny gargling sound.
‘What’s that?’ I call out.
‘Lani just cut his head off,’ Nick shouts.
‘You shouted too late, I had the knife at his throat?’
‘Is he dead?’ I ask, which I realise is a stupid question.
‘He has no head Mr Howie,’ Cookey says with as much tact as a house brick.
‘Oh fuck…any ideas?’ I shout to Clarence.
‘Nope, just keep going,’ he says twisting back round to face front, ‘she actually cut his head off,’ he adds.
‘Really? His actual head?’
‘Yeah…clean off…don’t ever cheat on her for fucks sake.’
‘Jesus…what a woman….is it too early to propose?’
‘What did he say?’ Lani shouts as Clarence bursts out laughing.
‘The boss asked if you’ll marry him,’ he shouts.
‘If he gets us out of this bloody mess I’ll have his babies,’ she shouts to hoots of laughter from the other lads. I shake my head, the visual image of that blokes head rolling about the floor while we talk about marriage and babies. I should be on happy pills.
‘Er…can anyone see a tanker?’ I shout as we trundle down D Avenue, the outside of the Saxon ringing like a giant xylophone from the shots being taken at us.
‘Why’s Dave firing like that?’ Cookey shouts, his voice gets cut off by the girl at the back screaming in blind panic, ‘oh shit…sorry love,’ Cookey shouts.
‘She alright?’ Clarence shouts, twisting round.
‘What happened?’ I ask.
‘Oh…that head just rolled into her foot,’ he says losing interest and turning back.
‘Dave why are you firing like that?’ Nick shouts up.
‘So I don’t blow the place up,’ he shouts down.
‘Oh fuck,’ I exclaim suddenly realising we’re in the middle of a giant fuel refinery.
‘Shit…oh shit…he’s gonna blow it up…I know he will,’ Cookey yells.
‘He won’t,’ I yell back, turning into another side street.
‘He did one before didn’t he?’ Cookey asks.
‘It was seen from space Cookey,’ Clarence grins at him evilly.
‘Oh shit,’ the lad replies with a whimper.
‘We’re being chased,’ Dave shouts.
‘Where’s the fucking wing mirrors?’ Clarence shouts.
‘We fucking lost them ages ago mate,’ I reply.
‘Fire out the back doors, we’ve got contact to the front too,’ Dave roars out.
The lads get to the back doors, pushing them open and firing their assault rifles almost instantly.
‘What is it?’ I ask Clarence as he twists round.
‘Another pick-up with blokes on the back,’ he replies.
‘How many fucking pick-up trucks have they got?’
‘I don’t know…but one less now,’ Clarence adds as the Lads and Lani cheer. A loud crash sounds out behind us which I guess must be from the pick-up truck smashing into something. Hopefully the something isn’t a flammable something.
‘There,’ Clarence points down the road to a wide open space with a row of white fuel tankers parked up, all of them marked with the refinery logo.
More shots ping off the Saxon, the shooters hidden from sight. Dave returns fire, taking care not to hit anything that looks like it could blow up.
‘How the fuck we gonna do this? You’ll get cut to bits if you go…’
‘We’ll have to go round again,’ Clarence cuts me off.
We drive quickly past the fleet of tankers, both of us looking at them longingly and hoping no one tries to shoot them. I take the next right, powering up the short side street, more people go running off, diving behind cover as we go flying past them.
I keep going up the long straight avenue, ignoring the first right turn to buy us time.
‘Get on the loudspeaker…tell them we’ll the blow it up if they keep firing at us.’
‘I don’t think it’ll work,’ Clarence replies, he takes the mouthpiece and shouts into it, ‘CEASEFIRE NOW OR WE’LL BLOW THE REFINERY….CEASEFIRE NOW OR WE’LL BLOW THE REFINERY…’
‘Dave stop shooting for a minute,’ I shout out, he instantly stops, dropping down to get cover while we keep taking right turns and driving in a big circle.
Clarence keeps repeating the same message, his deep tones amplified as I take the numbered side streets and cross the avenues.
‘Clarence wait,’ Dave says, he leans towards the hole of the GPMG listening intently, ‘they’re shouting to each other,’ he relays.
‘LEAVE NOW OR WE’LL KILL YOU ALL,’ an amplified voice booms out from several points, must be a safety tannoy system.
‘STOP SHOOTING US OR WE’LL BLOW YOUR REFINERY UP,’ Clarence replies with his own amplified voice.
‘YOU CAN’T BLOW IT UP…’
‘WE CAN BLOODY TRY…DO YOU WANNA SEE IT? Dave…give something a blast,’ he adds quietly.
Dave scrabbles back up and starts firing indiscriminately as Cookey drops down to cover his head, whimpering loudly.
Dave finishes and quickly drops back down as I realise I’m holding my breath and waiting for the boom.
‘WE CAN DO THAT AGAIN,’ Clarence says.
‘DON’T BE SO STUPID…YOU’LL GET BLOWN UP TOO.’
‘THEN LET US HAVE TWO TANKERS OF FUEL…’
‘IS THAT ALL YOU WANT?’ The voice comes back with an incredulous tone.
‘YES,’ Clarence replies.
‘YOU BUST IN HERE AND KILL EVERYONE FOR TWO FUCKING TANKERS?’
‘PRETTY MUCH…OH AND THE BODIES YOU LEFT OUTSIDE TOO…YOU KNOW…THE BODIES OF THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN…’
Silence comes back for a second as I imagine frantic conversation taking place between whoever is holding the microphone and the people around him.
‘OKAY…CEASEFIRE ALL ROUND…TAKE TWO TANKERS AND LEAVE…’
‘ARE THEY ALL FULL?’
‘YES.’
‘WHAT ABOUT KEYS?’
‘WE’LL BRING THEM TO YOU.’
‘DON’T FUCK ABOUT OR WE’LL BLOW EVERYONE UP…OH AND WE GOT ONE OF YOUR BLOKES HEADS IN HERE, DO YOU WANT IT BACK?’
The lads snigger as Clarence grins, ‘nice touch,’ I add quietly.
‘YOU CAN KEEP THE HEAD,’ the voice comes back.
‘Nice of him,’ Nick says quickly.
We drive in silence, not one shot exchanged from the people holding assault rifles and police issue black coloured guns.
‘Fuck…I can’t remember which way it is now,’ I say at the end of a numbered side street.
‘Right,’ Clarence says at the same time as Blowers says ‘Left’.
‘Bollocks..’ I take the right, heading down an avenue surrounded by big dirty while silos built into the square segments of land with raised banks of earth round each one. Chimneys, pipes, tubes, weird looking machines are everywhere giving the place a surreal futuristic industrial look.
‘YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY,’ the voice booms out.
‘Sorry boss,’ Clarence grimaces.
‘Now we just look bloody stupid,’ I retort.
‘What like we don’t already? Charging several hundred armed men for a tanker of fuel that we could have got at the docks…not to mention Lani cutting all their heads off,’ he replies.
‘One head…I cut one head off,’ Lani says pointedly.
‘I said we should go for the docks,’ I say with a shake of my head. I turn the vehicle round in the entrance to another side street, having to shunt forward and back several times while being stared at by several grim faced armed guards.
‘No pressure then,’ I mutter under my breath then swear loudly as the front of the Saxon scrapes along a wall with a screech of metal and a round of ‘ooohhh’s’ coming from the back. Some of the armed men outside shake their heads which just makes me go red in the face.
‘Fuckers….fucking fuckers…fucking fuck fuckers…’ I mutter angrily to myself as I get the Saxon back onto the avenue and facing the right way.
‘WELL DONE,’ the voice says with a distinctively sarcastic tone.
‘Cheeky fucker,’ I shake my head again and become aware of the silence in the vehicle, ‘don’t you lot bloody start.’
‘Soooo, it’s er….very warm again today,’ Cookey says innocently.
‘Yeah definitely another hot one,’ Nick replies in the same slow tone.
‘Better than rain though,’ Lani adds.
‘I think we could do with a drop of rain,’ Blowers joins in.
‘Yeah alright you lot can piss off,’ I call out with a grin.
‘There, just down there,’ Clarence points ahead as we come into view of the row of tankers.
I look over at the big man and realise what he asked for, ‘you said we wanted two tankers…who is going to drive the other one?’
‘You can drive it,’ he replies.
‘Me? Haven’t they got loads of gears or something?’
‘It’s easy enough, one of the lads can drive this back.’
‘I’ll have a go,’ Nick offers quickly, ‘I always wanted to a drive a big lorry.’
‘Nick driving a mobile bomb…is that wise?’ Cookey asks.
‘You ever driven one before?’ Clarence turns to look at him.
‘No but I’ll have a go.’
‘You fancy it then mate?’ I ask.
‘Yeah definitely,’ he excitedly replies
‘Fair enough,’ Clarence says.
We slow down, crawling the last few metres to scan the area. Coming to a stop we wait as armed guards walk into the area, standing at a distance but making their presence known.
‘I don’t like it,’ Clarence mutters.
‘Me too,’ Dave adds, ‘they shouldn’t be stood there.’
‘PULL YOUR MEN BACK,’ Clarence speaks through the loudspeaker.
‘THEY WON’T DO ANYTHING,’ the voice replies after a pause of a few seconds.
‘THEN PULL THEM BACK,’ Clarence repeats.
Another pause and the men all drop their heads as though listening to something then start pulling back.
‘They must have radios,’ Blowers says.
‘Fucking hell Blowers…you’re quick,’ Cookey mutters.
‘A MAN WILL APPROACH NOW…HE’S GOT THE KEYS.’