by RR Haywood
Nick is a step ahead of him. He’s gagging for a smoke and it’s in his mouth, lit and inhaled before Jacob has even got his packet out.
‘Cheers,’ Nick lifts his mug.
‘Alright,’ Jacob sighs again, something he keeps doing. They were the sighs of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Stretching his legs out, Jacob lights his cigarette and closes his eyes, drawing deeply before blowing it away.
‘They seem alright,’ Nick remarks, working to keep his tone casual.
‘Few are,’ Jacob coughs from the harshness of the cigarette smoke, ‘I’ll point the decent ones out as we go round.’
‘Yeah cheers,’ Nick nods taking a seat opposite Jacob. ‘This is alright,’ he looks round at the chairs, ‘nice little smoking area.’
‘Larson,’ Jacob says dully, ‘he talks the Doc round on a few things. We can have a couple of beers in the evening as long as we ain’t on the guard rota, but don’t get pissed and don’t get noisy.’
‘Got it.’
They sip at the black coffee and smoke cigarettes. Nick looks about but keeps glancing back at the other man, seeing the worry on his face, the way he holds himself tucked in, the eyes staring out blankly.
‘What’s your son called?’
‘Eh?’ Jacob looks up quickly, ‘oh er…Lucas.’
‘Nice name,’ Nick nods, ‘they went to Poland then you said?’
‘Yeah,’ Jacob nods. A few seconds of silence pass before he speaks again, ‘we were alright you know, like we were getting on okay but times were hard and she missed her family. We kept in contact, phoning and Skyping every day, I was going to go out there and see her next week but…’
Staying quiet, Nick sips at his coffee and lights another cigarette, letting his ears and senses settle to the background noises the way Dave showed them all. Listening without listening.
‘Happened didn’t it,’ Jacob offers a grim smile.
‘You can still go there, plenty of cars about and the channel isn’t that wide from Dover,’ Nick says quietly.
‘Yeah, like I said, I’m loyal here and I want to do my job.’
‘Course,’ Nick mutters.
‘You know where they are?’
‘In Poland? Yeah course, been there a few times.’
‘You know the way then?’
‘I do.’ Jacob stares across at Nick, not the same stare offered by Larson, but a quiet thoughtful look. ‘What about you nipper? Where you from?’
‘Just outside Winchester,’ Nick repeats what he said earlier, ‘just joined the army when it happened, was on the first weekend training thing. Legged it from Salisbury then just kept going, found the van then…’
‘The van?’ Jacob asks with a puzzled glance. Nick relays the story given to Larson and the others, keeping the facts brief and re-telling it casually.
‘John and Terry,’ Jacob nods, ‘tattoo’s on his hands yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Nick replies, ‘they mates of yours?’
‘Them two? No.’
‘Ah right, you said some are to be avoided.’
‘They are and them pair were arseholes. Vince and Derek too, mind you, Vince weren’t that bad but Derek was a nasty bit of work. The Doc did Vince in earlier.’
‘What for?’ Nick remembers the man he shot calling out for Vince.
‘No idea, he doesn't need a reason.’
‘You think there’s other places than this?’ Nick asks lightly.
‘Guess so,’ Jacob mutters, ‘but have they got a doctor with a cure?’
‘Probably not,’ Nick concedes.
‘Thing is,’ Jacob leans forward, dropping his voice after quickly checking all around, ‘I don’t know anything about science but I saw programmes on telly, all with test tubes and computers, microscopes and people in white suits in labs and stuff, but we don’t have any of that here. Nothing, no equipment, no lab or anything. You know,’ Jacob drops his voice even lower, ‘we don’t even have any of them things here, you know, to get samples from or test or something. Maybe I watched too many movies but surely you gotta have the actual disease or virus or whatever it is to examine and how do you examine it without equipment?’
‘Dunno,’ Nick whispers, ‘big house though, maybe he’s got some stuff tucked away.’
‘Nah, I been in every room. We have to do a daily check and I don’t go out scavenging see. Larson likes me so he gets me to do things like that. No lab, no equipment. Mind you though Nick, I’m loyal see, I’m not saying the Doc don’t know what he’s doing, not at all, you know…’
‘Jacob, don’t worry,’ Nick urges softly, ‘I won’t repeat a word you tell me, not to Larson or anyone, you got my word on that mate.’
‘Forget it,’ Jacob sits back with a look of mild panic on his face, ‘heat innit, gets to your head and makes you say stupid things. I’m loyal Nick, loyal see. I won’t upset anyone or do anything stupid. I like it here.’
He knows he’s stepped too far now and panics, trying to take it back, worried that Nick will report him to Larson, or worse yet the Doc. The young lad seems different though and he’s got a hard look about him, something trustable and decent.
‘So how’s he finding a cure then?’ Nick asks trying to bring the conversation back.
Jacob shrugs, already worried he’s gone too far. ‘Another coffee Nick?’
‘Yeah please, er… what now? I mean, what we got to do now?’
‘Nothing, just be here. Someone else is on patrol for a bit, we get another turn later but right now, we just sit down and drink coffee.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ Nick smiles.
‘We’ll have a walk round in a bit.’ Jacob stands and pauses for a second as if he wants to say something, then changes his mind, offering a grim smile instead.
‘I’ll come with you.’ Nick gets up to walk with him, suddenly aware that the conversation they just had might be repeated by Jacob. If he is really worried about being seen as disloyal then snitching on Nick asking loads of questions would cement his position.
Jacob chuckles, shaking his head, ‘now you’re worried that I’ll say something, pair of twats ain't we.’
‘Didn’t even enter my mind,’ Nick says, rolling his eyes.
‘So you’re alright then are you Nick?’
‘Fine mate,’ Nick replies slightly confused.
‘No I mean, you’re alright yeah?’
‘Oh, yeah I get it, yes Jake I am alright. You got nothing to worry about mate.’
‘Okay, hope so. Only just met you but,’ Jacob shrugs, ‘everything’s fucked up, don’t know who to trust, being careful what you say all the time.’
‘Yeah I bet.’ An urge rises in Nick to tell Jacob about the fort, and Mr Howie, that there are others out there who offer a different way, that the old principles and morals haven’t vanished but they’re here and stronger than ever. Jacob would fit in well at the fort. He’s turned a blind eye to the Doc’s perverted nature, but only on the justification that he’s waiting for the cure so he can leave and save his family. A hard pill to swallow by any degree, but relatable nonetheless and Nick can see the intense conflict in the man and the slow erosion of his soul.
Nick glances at the gun and the way Jacob keeps it close. Mr Howie will send Dave in first, that’s obvious. Maybe Clarence too. This lot, as tough and as hard as they look, don’t stand a chance against the team. Meredith, Dave, Clarence, Lani and the lads, not to mention Mr Howie when he gets into that mood. Anyone that stands before them will be cut down, anyone that opposes them will be dealt with swiftly and without hesitation. Once Lilly tells them what happened to her and her family, about the rape, the murders, taking the young boys and then seeing the boys here at the house, well, nothing short of a disaster will prevent them coming.
‘Are there any others like you Jacob?’
‘Like me?’ Jacob asks quietly, both of them standing by the garden chairs watching each other closely. No effort to move off and make more coffee has been made.
<
br /> ‘Decent… like you,’ Nick holds the gaze and speaks in a quiet but level voice. Eyes locked, both of them feeling the pressure to say more, to offer to help to each other, to form an alliance, but both too wary to take that step.
‘No,’ Jacob shakes his head sadly, ‘there have been but they went, left or…’
‘The Doc?’
‘And Larson,’ Jacob nods, whispering now with that pleading look in his eyes. Nick watches, his own eyes narrowing as he detects the prickle of tears in the older man’s eyes.
‘Feels like we’re both waiting to say something,’ Nick nods, urging the other man to take the plunge.
Jacob shrugs, the dilemma evident. His mouth forms words but no sounds come out. His hands grip the weapon, angst and turmoil pulsing through his body.
‘I’m loyal,’ Jacob croaks without conviction.
‘You want to see your son,’ Nick says softly, ‘Lucas, you want to see Lucas.’
‘Yeah.’ A single tear rolls down a weathered cheek.
‘There are others Jake,’ Nick whispers so quietly that Jacob has to step closer, his eyes alert now and locked on Nick, ‘others that aren’t like this.’ The gamble is taken, the dice thrown, but this isn’t a game of chance. Nick has calculated the odds and knows the risk is worth taking. It’s that or Jacob will die at the hands of Dave later.
‘Who?’ Jacob asks, the sound hardly made.
Nick pauses, unsure of how to proceed. What to say and how to say it. How does he go now? The wrong thing said could result in a serious risk being posed to the others.
‘Nick, tell me,’ Jacob steps in even closer, glancing about to be sure they’re alone, ‘what others? Where?’
The second wave of instinct hits Nick, but this wave is contrary to the first one, an instant feeling of an error made.
‘Nick I swear I ain't gonna say nothin’ mate,’ Jacob urges, his face a mask of emotion that contorts his features. A glimmer of hope, a fleeting idea that there might be something else out there, ‘I hate it here Nick, I want out, I fucking hate the Doc and I swear if he hurts one of those boys I’ll kill him. I’m only here for the cure then I’m gone. Nick, please…’
‘Stay close to me Jacob,’ Nick whispers. ‘I can’t say anything, I won’t say anything but stay close to me at all times.’ Nick watches as Jacob nods quickly, his expression intense and hanging off every word the young lad says.
This is it. Will Jacob press for more information or be satisfied at that. Nick watches him, watches the light flicker in the other man’s eyes. The atmosphere between them is charged, electric almost.
‘Okay,’ Jacob whispers, ‘don’t tell me, don’t say anything but just know yeah, that I ain’t like these people here. I didn’t do no rapes or murder. You want the gun?’ Jacob almost holds it out, ready and willing to hand it over.
‘How’s that gonna look?’ Nick grins, his easy smile returns as the confidence that he took the right risk pays off.
‘Yeah course,’ Jacob nods, almost smiling himself, ‘alright, what can I do?’
‘Nothing mate, just stay close, that’s all… er, they got an armoury here?’
‘Larson has ‘em all in his rooms, the blokes got shotguns and rifles with ‘em but the rest is kept safe.’
‘His rooms locked?’
‘All the time,’ Jacob nods, ‘keeps the key in his pocket. Nick you ain’t thinking of doing something yourself are you? I mean, they’ll fucking tear you apart.’
‘No,’ Nick shakes his head quickly, ‘just stay close.’
Looking round, Jacob steps away forcing himself to look normal. ‘We’d better get some more coffee so we look normal, maybe get something to eat too, you hungry?’
‘Funny that,’ Nick grins, ‘I’m starving as it happens.’
Forty Four
‘You two move out and keep watch,’ Clarence watches as Jagger and Mohammed move swiftly away from the Transit van. Both of them carry sawn off shotguns as they position themselves a few metres away from the forlorn and empty Saxon. Tools, hastily sourced from the fort, are shoved in the rear of the van as they drive quickly through the deserted roads into the town where the Saxon was left. Clarence winces at the trail of destruction his explosion of temper left earlier.
‘Wow man,’ Ginge nods comically, his red dreadlocked hair bobbing away as he looks with wide eyes at the big army vehicle, ‘that’s like, you know, a proper big army thing yeah?’
‘It is, now fix it,’ Clarence growls.
‘Man, you don’t understand that like, you know, I gotta see what’s wrong with it before I fix it. What happened, did it like you know, make noise or what man?’
‘The power went,’ Clarence shrugs, ‘no noises or bangs, just went.’
‘Slow or fast?’ Ginge asks.
‘Quick,’ Clarence replies, ‘just died.’
‘Man that sounds like a fuel problem, maybe a fuel line or something like, you know?’
‘Know what?’
‘Was there like, you know, diesel on the road or…?’
‘No,’ Clarence snaps, ‘nothing.’
‘Well okay man,’ Ginge grins, ‘that’s helpful you know? I’ll go take a look then.’
‘You do that. If you get it working then I might not shoot you.’ Deadpan delivery, face as devoid of expression as Dave. Voice deep, eyes glaring. Ginge gulps, smiling nervously before thinking that maybe it wasn’t a joke.
‘Lads,’ Clarence calls out to the two slightly older lads who are rapidly evolving into two trusted and capable youths, ‘if he doesn't anything you don’t like, runs off, shouts out, whatever… shoot him.’
‘You got it hench man,’ Jagger nods seriously. Having already spoken to the lads, Clarence made it clear he wanted the dreadlocked mechanic frightened to the point of doing whatever it takes to get the Saxon running.
***
‘Here, this is it,’ Paula runs her finger along the blue line on the map. ‘This has to be it,’ she murmurs. Folding the map out fully, she spreads it across the hot bonnet of the four wheel drive. Tracing the line of the river, she curses mildly when a drop of perspiration falls from her head onto the paper, ‘yep, Chapsworth House, this is the river then.’
‘Not deep enough,’ Dave says dully. At the side of the bridge they’re parked on he looks down into the gentle current sweeping by.
‘Sure?’ Paula asks gently, believing the man but also fully aware of how he reacted in the offices earlier when boats were mentioned.
‘Definitely too fucking shallow,’ Roy says lightly. Placing his hands on the top of the barrier, he leans forward to look down, then starts staring at the back of his right hand, quickly bringing it up to examine closely.
‘No boats then,’ Paula says with a smile at Dave.
‘Good,’ Dave nods, ‘unless it gets deeper further, on but then we don’t have time to find out. Nor would we have time to find boats and bring them to the deepest part.’
‘Agreed,’ Paula says quickly, ‘so what’s the next plan then?’
‘We’ll go by land,’ Dave says, moving across to the map spread out over the front of the vehicle, ‘take me to here and I’ll run in for a look then run back.’ He points to a spot a couple of centimetres from the property marked Chapsworth House on the map, ‘if that spot gets compromised then fall back half a mile and keep going.’
‘Okay Dave. Roy? You okay?’ She calls out, spotting Roy with that worried look on his face while staring at the back of his own hand.
‘Got a bruise,’ he replies in a meek voice, ‘can’t remember hitting it. Probably a disease of the blood or…’
‘We’ve all got bruises Roy,’ Paula adopts the gentle tone, ‘and you did climb up that rope remember? You probably knocked it on the way up.’
‘Oh yes, that rope yes,’ Roy grins with relief, ‘I’d forgotten all about that. Righto, so what’s the plan Dave?’ He walks over in a jaunty manner, grinning happily at the news that he isn’t dying of some incurable blood disease
.
‘I’ll explain on the way, you driving?’
‘Really don’t mind,’ Roy grins, ‘yeah I’ll drive and you relax so you can plan and plot and come up with crazy wild ideas for everyone,’ he laughs.
‘Okay Roy,’ Paula chuckles.
Dave looks from one to the other as he climbs into the back, settling himself into the hot leather seats. They like each other these two, just like Mr Howie and Lani and Clarence and Mr Howie’s sister. Before she got killed and turned, then had her throat cut open by Dave that is.
People are strange, Dave muses. Smiling and grinning at each other, why don’t they just say they like each other and be done with it?
***
‘No way, that cannot be right.’ I stare at the thermometer then across to Lani.
‘What’s it say?’ Maddox strolls over with Lenski at his side.
‘Er,’ leaning in closer I count the black bars, ‘forty-two degrees Celsius. Did you hear that? Forty-two degrees! Shit…that’s got to be a record.’
‘No wonder everyone is wilting,’ Lani sighs, ‘and that’s in here out of the sun.’
‘How’s it looking then?’ I ask the two lads, Blowers and Cookey.
‘Same as before,’ Blowers replies, ‘down to sawn offs and pistols. Luckily we got tons of shotgun cartridges, and we got a few rifles but only single shot ones.’
‘Clarence has got Dave’s sniper rifle from the Saxon though,’ Cookey adds, ‘for later if we need it.’
‘Close up and dirty then,’ I sigh.
‘What is the close and dirty?’ Lenski asks with a puzzled glance.
‘He means the fighting,’ Maddox says, ‘sawn off shotguns are brutal at close range but no good for anything over a few metres away. Security is back up,’ he says looking at me, ‘got a crew on the wall with rifles and shotguns, a few at the back inside and outside and a whole crew outside plus another one stationed inside the inner gate. We’ll get a daily password and no one gets inside without it.’
‘Good idea mate,’ I nod at him.