Sentinel: A post-apocalyptic thriller (The Hurst Chronicles Book 2)

by Robin Crumby

  “They have taken to calling themselves freedom fighters,” added the Colonel. “Trying to rally support to their cause from the forest camps. They seemed very interested in Porton’s virus research and knew all about Project Wildfire. Tortured the scientists and Zed until they talked. Briggs now has it in his head that there is a conspiracy.”

  “So you’re telling me that we have a major leak on our hands. That the ambush and delay in hostage rescue may have serious repercussions. What’s your assessment Colonel?”

  “Well, with the Professor, they have a credible spokesperson who can legitimise any claims they make about the Allies.”

  Lieutenant Peterson was scratching his chin, taking this all in. He looked puzzled: “I’m not sure I’m following you. What sort of claims could they make?”

  “That the Allies are complicit in the outbreak, that somehow the government was involved in bioengineering a virus. That we caused all this.”

  “And, I’m guessing that, as ridiculous as his theory sounds, it doesn’t matter if it’s not true. It’s a lie that would easily be believed.”

  The Lieutenant stiffened, placing his clenched fists down on the desktop. The muscles in his neck tightened, the frustration clear for all to see. “Colonel, I don’t like the sound of this.”

  “Without the Professor, it’s just a wild rumour,” suggested the Colonel. “No one would believe them.”

  “Then we need to get the Professor back or take him out. Sergeant Jones, sounds like you have a mess to clean up.”

  “Sir?”

  Riley had been listening patiently and wondered why no one had mentioned Terra.

  “Lieutenant, are you also aware that Terra, one of the hostages taken from Osborne House, was part of Briggs’ group? It was hard to say, we didn’t get to speak, but she seemed to be collaborating with them.”

  “I wondered when she might show up. I wouldn’t judge her Riley. She’s a smart lady. She’ll be doing what she can to survive. Being in captivity makes you do strange things. Who knows, she may be collaborating. She may even have developed Stockholm Syndrome.”

  Riley half-remembered the term from her counselling training. It was used to describe the behaviour of prisoners in captivity, where, in some extreme cases, they develop an attachment to their captors.

  “You mean she might have romantic feelings towards Briggs?”

  “That’s right. It’s more common than you might imagine. Very well. Jones, if you get the chance, you find a way to get her out too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have a few pressing matters to attend to.”

  “What’s all the commotion? Anything we should know about?” asked the Colonel.

  Peterson paused, as if trying to decide whether or not he should share.

  “We have a situation developing in the West. Our pilot reported a huge number of refugees massing north of Lymington and we’re monitoring another large group approaching from further West heading towards New Milton and Milford along the coastal road. We’ve let the team at Hurst know to be on their guard and we’re sending more troops to secure the ferry crossing from Lymington. But if numbers carry on building as they are, we’ll have to close the western corridor, divert those migrants to Southampton where they’ll be better able to handle that volume of people. We just don’t have the manpower to split our forces between three sites.”

  “The other Council members are aware of this?”

  “Yes, the situation is being managed. It’s all blown-up since you’ve been away in Porton.”

  “Understood. Thank you for the heads up. It’s vital we keep lines of communication open. We all depend on Operation Overwatch as our eyes and ears. The moment we lose that coordination, things will fall apart quickly. We can’t risk that.”

  “Agreed Colonel. You have my word.”

  “What will happen to the team at Hurst if that group moves on their position?” asked Riley, concerned for her friends.

  “Well, Hurst has been refortified and part-militarised. With the reinforcements, they now have two squads there and enough firepower to handle whatever comes their way. Those walls are thirty-feet high. They’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

  “What if the castle gets cut-off and they try to starve them out?”

  “I wouldn’t be overly concerned, they’ve got months of supplies, enough water to drink. If it came to it, we could resupply by boat. They could survive for a long time.”

  “The alternative we are pursuing is that we evacuate all non-military personnel quicker than planned and get everyone over to the island.”

  “We’re not at that point yet, Lieutenant,” suggested the Colonel. “Let’s keep monitoring the situation. They may by-pass Milford and head inland towards Lymington and Southampton. Let’s just make sure we’re ready to get them out if that time comes. No point worrying about something that may never happen.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  After they had finished up in the war room, Jones led Riley back down to the medical centre where a female nurse was finishing up, applying a new dressing to Zed’s wrist. The wound had been meticulously cleaned to eradicate any chance of infection. The Doctor had initially been concerned about blood poisoning, but after a cursory investigation he stepped away, pleased with how he said it would heal.

  “In time,” said the nurse, “we can fix you up with a prosthetic arm. You’ll have some limited movement, be able to pick things up, that sort of thing.”

  Noticing the sadness in Zed’s eyes she added: “Don’t worry, I know it seems like the end of the world, but I’ve worked with plenty of combat veterans with similar injuries. They can do amazing things these days. You’d be surprised.”

  The clean bandages had filled the whole room with a faint scent of liniment and disinfectant. It was a smell that evoked so many memories for Riley. The death of her father, the birth of a niece, caring for her mother’s long-term illness. It had been some time since she had thought of her family.

  Zed held up his arm and rotated the stump, inspecting the bandages.

  “We’ll need to keep you on a low-level painkiller till it heals,” continued the nurse. “You’re right-handed, so just be grateful, it was your left.”

  “Be grateful?” said Zed outraged, “This wasn’t an accident you know? I didn’t just stick my arm in a wood chipper, someone chopped my hand off with an axe.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I had no idea, I just assumed it was…”

  “Right, you assumed…” repeated Zed through gritted teeth.

  Riley put her arm on Zed’s shoulder. “Take it easy big guy. She’s only trying to help you.”

  “Well, your bedside manner could do with some work there, nurse.”

  The nurse stood, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and excused herself, leaving Riley and Zed alone. He looked up at her with a pained expression, mortified by his outburst.

  “Sorry, I guess I’m still coming to terms with what happened. This thing won’t just grow back,” he said holding up his left arm, managing a weary smile. “Listen Riley, thanks for getting me out back there. That’s the second time you’ve saved my life.”

  “Don’t mention it. You’d have done the same for me. It’s the Americans you should be thanking, they were the ones who got you out. Who knows what would have happened to us all if we’d been left there at the mercy of those butchers?”

  “I can’t help blaming Terra. I know you think she was trying to protect us, but there’s no way they knew all that without Terra spilling her guts. Briggs seemed to think I was holding something back, that I was lying to him about Project Wildfire.”

  “I know, I had that same conversation, but they quickly realised I knew very little of value, which was fortunately true.”

  “So now they have the Professor which means they must know everything we know. The Colonel thinks they’ll somehow use him to foment rebellion, to spread the lie that Porton Down had something to do with the virus. With all the thousands of d
esperate people heading towards the island, he might just be able to recruit an army to his cause.”

  “Particularly if they can convince the new arrivals that the Allies are responsible for everything bad that’s happened,” added Riley. She paused as if remembering something that had been troubling her. Her sharp intake of breath drew Zed’s attention.

  “What is it?”

  “I forgot to mention. We were just in the operations centre upstairs where all the radar screens and feeds come in. Peterson happened to mention that they’re monitoring huge crowds of people heading towards Lymington along the coast road from the West.”

  “And you’re worried they’ll head for Hurst. I doubt it. If they’re following the main road, then they’d need to swing south to reach Milford and the castle. I can’t see them walking a mile and a half out of their way up a shingle spit. The castle is heavily defended, it would be crazy to try anything.”

  “I know, but after what happened last time, I need to be there. Remember, we thought the castle was impregnable once before.”

  “It’s different now with all the military there. Plus, who knows? If we had been there last time, things might have been very different. For a start, we could have been killed.”

  “Maybe, but if there’s even the slightest risk, I want to be there for Mila and Adele. Make sure they get out safely in good time.”

  “Look, I’d volunteer to come with you, but they need me here. The Colonel and the others are heading on to the island first thing tomorrow. I’m going to tag along, check out the new research facility they’re building at St Mary’s hospital. I’m sure your new friend Jones can fix you up with a ride back.”

  Riley’s cheeks flushed a little. “He’s not so bad.”

  “Developing a soft spot for him, are we?”

  “Hardly, he’s still a red-neck. Not exactly my type.”

  “Hey, I don’t suppose they found my rucksack? I lost everything, all my notes and papers.”

  “Not that I’ve heard. The Colonel told me they have a back-up of most of those folders on the drive. We have Jenny to thank for that. If she hadn’t driven the laptop and drives out to us, they were talking about having to fly back up there again.”

  “I think that’s inevitable, don’t you?”

  “Don’t say that. Jenny did that for us. I just hope it was worth it.”

  The Doctor knocked and stuck his head round the door.

  “Sorry to interrupt. Mind if I borrow Riley for a bit?”

  “Be my guest, Doc. I think we’re all done here,” he said raising his bandaged arm. “I’m going to try and find the Colonel. Make myself useful.”

  Riley followed the Chief Medical Officer back along the narrow corridor, stepping over a water-tight hatchway, passing the operating theatre she had seen earlier. They arrived outside a small office set up with a desk and computer, with personnel files and folders secured inside a bookcase with a wooden slat across the front to stop them falling out when they were at sea.

  “Have a seat, please,” he said, easing back into a comfortable leather swivel chair that was bolted to the floor. “I wanted to give you a quick update about Adele. How is she doing?”

  “Yes, so you said. She’s fine thank you. She’s nervous about leaving Hurst behind, but I think everyone’s slowly coming round to that idea. Other than that, she’s just a normal little eleven year old, or as normal as you can be after the trauma of losing your entire family and everyone you knew and loved. Why the interest? Is there something wrong, Doctor?”

  “Based on the fact that you’re the nearest thing she has to a guardian now, I thought you should be the first to know,” he said shuffling a pile of patient folders, looking for the right sheet of paper. “We found something unexpected in her blood tests.”

  Riley’s weary smile froze as her mind searched for an explanation. As he located the test results and started reading through them again, she could feel her heartbeat racing. There was an acute sense of déjà vu, as if this scene had played out so many times in her life.

  “We were trying to understand more about the source of her immunity and why the team at Lymington hospital had been so intrigued by her and the other girl you mentioned, Stella was it? Well, we think we may have found a clue. You see, Adele has quite a rare form of blood cancer called acute lymphoblastic leukaemia.”

  The Doctor’s words made her stomach begin to cramp, fearing the worst. Her father had been diagnosed with lung cancer when he was fifty-three. The thought of nursing an eleven year old through long-term care was too painful to imagine.

  “Oh God, how long has she got?”

  “Hold on Riley, I’ll get to that. How much do you know about ALL and leukaemia?”

  “Not much, but I nursed my father through chemotherapy and lung cancer. I’m assuming ALL is similar.”

  “Fortunately, leukaemia is extremely rare in children. It was only blind luck that we spotted it when we did. It’s where the body produces a high number of abnormal white blood cells. As you know, the immune system needs to make lymphocytes to fight infection and, in patients with ALL, the process stops working properly. Without boring you with all the detail, the lymphocytes grow too quickly to be effective and they start clogging up the bone marrow and preventing it from making other blood cells.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following, so you’re saying it would affect her immune system? How does that relate to the virus?”

  “Well, that was the bit that made our team curious. The defective immune system could be one important clue to her immunity.”

  “That’s interesting Doctor, but surely that would only relate to Adele. You’re not suggesting that all the survivors have defective immune systems are you?”

  “No, but it’s often these outlier cases that help shed light on all the rest. It’s just a theory at this stage, but one we want to discuss with the scientists from Porton Down who are the real experts in all this.”

  “So what does all this mean for Adele? What are her chances of survival?”

  “I’m afraid the outlook is not good. Normally, we would put her on a course of chemotherapy and she would go on a waiting list for a bone marrow transplant. But, that was before the outbreak. Right now, the best we can hope for is that the symptoms develop slowly and with a bit of luck she might have six months, maybe a full year. I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.”

  Riley looked at her shoes under the table and tried hard to master her emotions. She wiped a tear away from her cheek.

  “Doctor, I appreciate you telling me,” she said putting a brave face on it. “If it’s OK with you, I’d like to be the one who breaks the news to her. She’s a tough cookie, but she’s way too young to understand something like this.”

  “Of course, that’s why I wanted you to be the first to know Riley.”

  “Now Doctor, is there any way you can get me a ride back to Hurst Castle? What with the evacuation to the island and now the news about Adele, I feel my place should be back there.”

  “Let me see what I can do for you,” he smiled weakly as they both stood and shook hands. He opened the door for her and they set off in silence towards the canteen to find Sergeant Jones.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  One of the crew led Zed through a maze of passageways and stairwells looking for the Colonel. The ship seemed virtually deserted with so many transferred to the island or the refugee processing centres on either side of the Solent.

  They arrived outside the closed door to the Officer’s Mess where Zed could see the scientists from Porton Down through a Perspex viewing window being entertained by Peterson. The crewman knocked and showed Zed in. Peterson finished what he was saying before welcoming Zed with a curt nod.

  The scientists were sat either side of a dining table, with bottles of ketchup and mustard in the middle, enjoying a plate of spaghetti with tomato sauce. Looking around the room, Zed was surprised to notice the politician he had met at Hurst a few days earlier. David Woods had h
is head lowered, scribbling furiously in a black-lined note book.

  When Peterson finished his briefing, he asked the scientists a series of detailed questions about the specialised equipment they would need for the laboratories they were prepping for their arrival on the island. As they listed off the technical specifications, the Colonel moved chairs to be next to Zed and spoke in barely above a whisper.

  “The good news is that the laptop Doctor Chengmei delivered to us actually belonged to the Professor. We’re not quite sure how but one of the scientists managed to guess his password,” he said staring at the man responsible who shrugged his shoulders, “so we now have access to the Professor’s notes and the reports he was working on.”

  “What about the rest of the stuff from the APV? I don’t suppose anyone found my rucksack?” asked Zed.

  “I’m afraid not, but the majority of the documents and folders we brought with us survived the fire and the rest seem to have dried-out well enough. So all in all, it’s a setback, but by no means the end of the world,” his voice died away, instantly regretting his poor choice of words.

  “What about the Professor?” asked Zed pointedly. The rest of the room fell silent, hearing his voice.

  “Losing the Professor is a blow, no question,” said the Colonel addressing the whole room now. “There’s no one who knows more about pandemic viruses than him.”

  Zed noticed the incredulous expression on Doctor Hardy’s face, remembering how he had pointedly disputed the extent of the Professor’s knowledge. It would appear there was some professional rivalry between the two men.

  “There’s no question that, as an academic and a historian, the Professor is a world expert,” continued the Colonel, feeling he had to justify himself. “He advised the Cabinet for a number of years on government policy.”

  “With all due respect, Colonel, the Professor is a generalist. I can assure you that the people round this table are the very best this country has to offer.”

  The Colonel relented, trying to patch things up after his faux pas.