by Cole, Robert
Alex sat back in the snow. Tina had been right, Jason was gone and nothing he could do or say would bring him back.
The youth, who had been watching him closely, his hand feeling his bruised neck, seized this moment to spring towards the opening of the stairwell. With a howl of rage, Alex drove his fist into his jaw, smashing his head against the concrete staircase. The youth slumped to the ground, unconscious. Alex stood looking down at him for some time before collecting the torch, the revolver and rifle, and sprinting off into the approaching night.
CHAPTER 3
Tina had clawed out a hollow amongst the roots of a large, knotted oak tree and placed Alex’s pack on the bottom to stop the cold seeping into her bones. The base of his torch was embedded in the snow next to her, so as to light up the tree like a homing beacon, in case Alex should come to his senses and decide to return. It was completely dark now. The temperature had dropped and it had begun to snow again. She pulled the hood of her jacket further over her face and watched the flecks of snow drift through the light beam. It made her mad just to think of it, his running off and leaving her like that, without a word of explanation except a fleeting promise to be back later. And now she was so bitterly cold, almost frozen, and so weak that she could hardly move, all through waiting for him. As soon as the snow eased, she swore she would leave, but then she would never know what happened to him. Another shivering attack made her teeth chatter uncontrollably. She huddled closer to the tree and curled up into a tight ball.
A sudden noise made her look up. Beyond the torchlight she caught a flash of light and heard the sound of branches being forced apart. Someone was coming! And it couldn't be Alex, as his torch was here. She began to panic. Wrenching her hands from around her body she lunged at the light, knocking it over in her haste, so that the beam shone momentarily in the direction of the sound. Now stricken with terror, she plunged it into the snow, finally locating the switch to turn it off. Still the light came closer, flashing through the miniature network of bracken and thistle which concealed her. Then it paused, no more than ten metres away. She crouched silent, trapped, her heart pounding.
‘Tina?’ A harsh whisper drifted across on the wind.
‘Over here!’ she hissed back, almost crying with relief.
The torch shone on her, blinding her for a second. The large shape of Alex trudged towards her and stopped a short distance away.
But once Alex was in front of her, tangible and solid, her relief turned quickly to rage. ‘Get that bloody light off me,’ she fumed.
Alex obeyed immediately, fully expecting a flood of verbal abuse.
She rose to her feet, her whole body visibly shaking from the cold. Alex wanted to take her in his arms to beg her forgiveness, to physically squeeze away the cold and pain. But something in her stance told him she was too angry to be won over by such action. His hands hung by his sides. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He couldn't think of anything else to say.
But when she spoke, it wasn't with raging abuse, but a cold, reasoning anger that cut into him like a knife. ‘What did you hope to achieve?’ she asked. ‘You left me here and I don't have the faintest idea where I am. You asked me to come with you and then you discarded me like a used....’ She searched hopelessly for the word. ‘I don't know what…like garbage you would throw in a bin.’
Alex nodded his head stupidly.
He had been imagining terrible things. She might be dead, or too frost bitten to walk, or, worse still, that she might have gone off. ‘I'm so sorry,’ he repeated miserably.
‘I didn't even know if you were coming back!’ she flared. ‘So far I have been dragged who knows where, shot at and then deserted!’
She was beginning to shake so much that he could hear her teeth chattering. They stood facing each other, neither speaking nor moving. Finally, Alex took a few tentative steps towards her. When she didn't back away he gently wrapped his arms around her. She didn't resist; instead she pushed her frozen hands under his jacket.
‘I nearly froze to death waiting for you,’ she continued, her voice losing some of its bitter edge.
She unzipped his jacket and buried herself deeper in his warmth. They held onto each other for a long time. Alex, too, had become very frightened at the thought of losing her, more than he had ever known. For he was alone now. There was no one he could turn to, no guide, no Jason... He was stranded, he knew not where, with a woman he had met only a few short hours before. He squeezed her more tightly. At that moment he needed her more than he had ever needed anyone in his life.
When her shivering finally wore off, she asked him what had happened at the hospital, but he couldn't bring himself to explain in any detail. His only reply was that his brother was dead. ‘They've killed everyone,’ he said miserably.
It took them over an hour before they found a village where they could seek shelter. It was a small cluster of houses nestled along the banks of a stream. By this time both were tottering with cold and exhaustion. The snow had stopped, but the wind had increased in strength, driving against them with malevolent intent. Tina seemed to be walking in a dream, only remaining on her feet through some inborn stubbornness that refused to let her legs buckle beneath her. Alex was in better condition, but there were numb spots on his face, and he had lost feeling in his fingers and toes. His rib cage was also hurting again, making each breath sharp and painful.
They fought their way through a large, snow crusted hedge and dropped into a lane, which led down to the village, both quickening their pace at the sight of the houses.
Alex, who was slightly ahead, came to a halt outside a small stone cottage where a light was showing in a front window; he could see smoke, too, coming from the chimney. Tina shuffled up, no longer able to lift her feet high enough to avoid leaving a set of drag marks behind her. He helped her over the front fence and along the garden path. Then, plucking up his courage, he tapped on the door. Almost immediately there were movements inside, but no one came to answer. He knocked a second time and a man's voice rang out: ‘We have no food here, please leave us alone!’
‘We're freezing to death!’ Alex yelled. ‘We just want shelter for the night!’
‘Please leave us alone!’ the voice repeated.
‘You must help us!’ Alex pleaded. ‘We have been walking all day and we can't take another step!’
Another voice now joined in with the first in a muffled discussion.
‘We do have some food. We'll trade it for some warmth and a place to sleep for the night!’ Alex added hopefully.
The murmuring stopped and the door opened a few centimetres. A middle-aged man with greying appeared in the gap; then, seeing the rifle strapped to Alex's back, he recoiled in fear. But Alex was too quick for him. Jamming his foot in the door, he threw all his weight behind it. The door crashed into the man and sent him sprawling across the floor.
‘I'm sorry, I’m sorry,’ Alex said immediately, grabbing Tina’s arm and pulling her inside with him. ‘But I wasn't prepared to be locked out.’
The man dragged himself to his feet and stood next to a small, plump woman and a young girl. The three of them stared at Alex and Tina, their faces white.
Alex continued stumbling for words. ‘We need warmth…and shelter,’ he repeated. He saw that they were looking at his rifle, so he lifted the strap from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor. ‘I found it. I don't even know how to use it,’ he quickly explained.
Reassurance started to creep back. It was the woman who spoke first, tapping her partner on the shoulder. ‘Come on, Tim, they look harmless enough. Where are your manners? Invite them in.’ She turned to Alex and Tina. ‘I’m sorry, but you gave us quite a turn. If you stand in the hallway a moment longer you'll catch your death. Come in and warm yourselves in front of the fire.’
Alex almost burst out laughing. He could hardly believe a place like this still existed. They were shown into a small, immaculately kept lounge, with low dark stained wooden beams and a large open hearth fire. The ne
wcomers wasted no time in reaching the fire and discarding their outer garments.
The woman reappeared, bringing dry clothes and offering a cup of soup from a pot that was simmering by the fire. This was greedily accepted. Both, however, found that their heads, rather than their stomachs, had done the talking, for once the cups of soup were in their hands, they were unable to eat, despite not having taken anything all day. The warmth of the fire seemed to deaden their bodies in some way, and induce in their minds a type of narcosis, so that only the pain of their thawing arms and feet appeared to be real. Looking across at Tina, Alex saw that she had already lost her struggle to stay alert. She stared into the fire, oblivious to her surroundings, swaying gently on her knees, her hands clasped firmly around her cup, like a drunk clinging to his drink at the bar.
For Alex, this was the first time he had actually seen Tina in anything stronger than torchlight and with more than her hood peeled away from her face. She had shed her jacket and several layers of jumpers in her haste to feel the warmth of the fire, leaving only a thin blouse, the top unbuttoned and soaked from the snow that had seeped in under her jacket. Her hair was also wet and hung in a dark tangle of springy curls around her shoulders. She raised a hand carelessly to brush it back from her face. She had small, almost delicate features, with a finely cut nose and thin eyebrows, which curved downwards slightly and gave her a brooding or thoughtful look. Her eyes, now blinking slowly with fatigue, appeared almost too large, like some creature used to the night. Her mouth was wide, but her lips were thin and stained blue with cold so they stood out against the paleness of her face.
Noticing him watching her, she smiled, and at once her features, almost sad before, radiated such warmth and beauty that he felt like reaching across and touching her. Indeed he would have done so if they had been alone, but the man had seated himself in a large, leather covered chair close by, and was leaning forward determinedly, studying them with a mixture of apprehension and suspicion.
He introduced himself as Tim Wane. His wife's name was Margaret and their daughter was Anne. Alex and Tina, Alex mostly, began to tell them about themselves, until the horrified expressions on the faces of the family almost stopped him. In normal times their village had been insulated from the outside world by the surrounding hills; now, those same hills had protected them from the worst effects of the heat pulse and the blastwave. They were the first, it appeared, to have come that way so far seeking food and water; and the news they brought with them plunged the man and his wife into despair.
‘I should have guessed,’ Tim said, bowing his head. ‘Before you came I wanted to believe that Britain had not been seriously damaged.’ He gestured to one of the windows. ‘I thought this weather would only be temporary. The sun would soon return and truck loads of food and water would be coming down the road any day. From what you tell us, that no longer seems likely. But what are we to do when the strangers start to arrive? We've only so much food. We can't afford to share it with all and sundry. I don't mean you, of course,’ he went on hastily. ‘It’s the future we're worried about.’
‘You've just got to face facts,’ Tina said sharply. ‘Just a few bombs didn’t cause this weather. It's a major attack; maybe there's no government left to distribute food. We were at the hospital; what happened there is going to happen in every building and shelter where supplies of any sort are to be had. Your whole village should wake up to that fact now, before it's too late.’
Seeing the surprise and confusion in their faces, she frowned.
‘You're agonising over the wrong question,’ she continued. ‘You won't have the choice whether to turn people away. They'll smash in your doors and windows; they'll tear up your floors for firewood. Your only chance lies in uniting the village into some type of fighting force to warn off the gangs that will be coming after your food.’
There was a moment's silence while her words sank in. ‘I don't think you're right, you know,’ Tim said defensively. ‘I've already intercepted radio broadcasts, which claim the government still exists. Oh yes,’ he went on, registering their startled looks, ‘I have a shortwave radio set. I took the precaution of disconnecting the battery and aerial a few days before the attack. When I reconnected it, a few days after the holocaust, I found it still worked. I've been monitoring the airways ever since.’
‘Go on,’ Alex prodded.
‘At first I found nothing, not a whisper, despite scanning all the frequencies for several hours each day. Then I started picking up brief messages, very faint and with a lot of static, possibly from ham operators. The set has a range covering most of England, and Wales, and parts of Scotland and Ireland, so it may be that these broadcasts were a long way away.’
‘What did they say?’ asked Tina.
He shook his head. ‘The messages kept fading in and out, so I rarely managed to get a complete sentence, but from what I could gather they were reporting on the damage in their areas and asking for help. But a couple of days ago, I suddenly received a powerful transmission, claiming to be the government broadcasting from the outskirts of Bristol.’
‘Bristol?’ Alex repeated, remembering what the youth at the hospital had said.
‘It didn't last long and it said nothing about how the war started or how the country as a whole fared,’ Tim continued. ‘But it did say they planned to start distributing food after the fourteenth day of the attack. Until then they advised everyone to remain under cover to avoid fallout. Oh, and one other thing. Tim leaned back in his chair, his eyes troubled. ‘They said that at eleven o'clock tomorrow they will broadcast more information on where the food distribution points are located and the conditions under which one can obtain food, whatever that means.’
That night Alex and Tina only picked at the hot, steaming food placed in front of them. Alex hoped the radiation they had received would produce no more serious symptoms than nausea, however, while he quickly sank into an exhausted sleep, Tina’s temperature began to rise. After half an hour she vomited up her dinner and for the rest of the night she had hot and cold flushes, diarrhoea and further vomiting. At one in the morning Alex woke up and kept watch over her till the Wanes took over. At breakfast he was offered cereal and some fresh bread which had been baked over the flames of the fire the previous day. Although he had no appetite, he deliberately forced the food down, then tried to snatch a few more hours' sleep.
Tim woke Alex mid-morning and led him to a small room at the rear of the house. The radio occupied a large table in the centre of the room. Tim switched it on and tuned the dial. At eleven precisely, the static suddenly stopped and the following statement was issued: ‘This is an official broadcast by the wartime government. Great Britain has suffered a major nuclear attack. Most military installations, industrial and population centres have been hit. You are warned to remain in your homes. Large movements of people from the towns have been reported. We advise all would be refugees to turn back. Anyone committing violent acts will be shot. The government is doing its best to implement emergency measures. Food rationing centres will be established on the outskirts of cities in a few days. Country areas will have to live off their own produce until the situation improves. Food rationing will be on the basis of health and willingness to work. Fifteen hundred calories will be given to those who agree to work; non workers will receive five hundred calories. All hospitals are severely overcrowded; resources are limited and must be directed towards those thought capable of survival. The government realises the hardship these measures will create but no good will be served in this present crisis by a failure to face the present reality. We therefore implore everyone to work together to improve conditions and reduce suffering as much as possible. A further report will be broadcast at the same time, on this frequency, tomorrow, and thereafter at times to be announced.’ The voice cut out abruptly.
‘Fifteen hundred calories a day,’ said Tim shaking his head, as he turned off the set. ‘That's hardly enough to sustain a human, let alone keep him fit enough for
a full day's work.’
Alex nodded grimly. ‘And if you refuse, you starve to death on five hundred calories a day. People won't take that type of treatment, they'll riot.’
‘Yes,’ Tim agreed, ‘they'll overrun the food stations, then head for the country to grab what more they can.’
The conversation had come dangerously near to what Tina had said earlier, and nothing more was said at that time.
After lunch Alex wandered restlessly about the house, from room to room and from window to window, peering out into the overwhelming greyness as though a different angle on it would somehow show a chink of light. But his mind was busy. He was turning over the events of the past few days, trying once more to come to terms with the disappearance of his former life, his prospects, his family and Jason. Who knew how far this contaminated wasteland stretched? Perhaps all around the world, so that there would be no escape from it. In the living room he approached the window and rubbed some of the condensation off the panes with his sleeve. Large flakes of snow jiggled their way past and settled on the growing heap on the sill. He tapped the glass and the snow subsided, but at once more flakes settled and began to rebuild, as before.
The door opened and Tina came in, walking unsteadily. She gave him a half-hearted smile, then sank down onto a chair.
Alex thought how weak and fragile she looked; though he knew there was an enormous depth of strength within her. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘In a day or two, I'll pick up. How about you?’
Alex was silent, knowing that it wasn't his physical condition she was enquiring about.
‘Are you still thinking about Jason?’ she persisted.
He made a face.
‘You must have been very close.’
He began to fret at this. These were his personal concerns he did not want to discuss. He hunched his shoulders and turned to stare out of the window.