‘Anybody home?’ he asked brightly.
After receiving no reply he proceeded very cautiously along the short corridor and checked the four small rooms for occupants. He knew it belonged to a young couple, and correctly assumed they had gone out to work on Monday and just not returned. He was absolutely right – both were probably long dead.
Once he was sure he was alone, he did a quick mental inventory of the flat. It was very much like his own, but much homelier and comfortable. He crammed as much food as he could into the kitbag – in fact he emptied their kitchen cupboards! After transferring this booty to his own flat, he returned and checked out the fridge-freezer. He emptied the fridge but left the freezer contents as the ambient temperature would keep them cool enough. He left the freezer door ajar to allow air to circulate and continued to the lounge. He stole the booze in a wine rack and an adjoining cupboard. Then he returned to his flat to stash the illicit haul.
‘They won't be needing it,’ he convinced himself.
No-one had seemed to notice his activities, so he revisited his neighbour’s flat and entered the bedroom. What he needed was a mattress. The main source of cold entering his own flat was through the window, so he was going to transfer the mattress and fix it against the opening. He didn’t quite know how yet, but he'd solve that problem in due course.
When returning to the adjoining flat for the final time that day, he scoured it for anything else of potential use. He took warm clothing, duvets and pillows and filled the bath with water, after cleaning and rinsing it. Soapy water would be unpalatable. He also decided to use their WC until the water froze or ran out. The most valuable item found was a mobile gas heater with an almost full LPG canister AND a spare in a cupboard! What a stroke of luck, he thought. And what a haul! This would keep him toasty warm for a few days at least.
That night, as he lay smugly in his even snugglier front room lair, he had a sudden and brilliant brainwave. How was he going to cook food when the mains gas ran out?
‘Shit! It’ll all be useless unless I cook it now!’ he whispered to himself.
He sprang out of bed, pulled on an anorak and a pair of snow boots and rushed next door with his kitbag. He emptied their small freezer and transferred the contents to his kitchen. He tried the gas and Hey Presto! it was still working. He immediately pulled out four cooking pans from his cupboards and started cooking raw food. He fried mince, chicken nuggets, fish fingers, burgers, chips, potatoes and anything else he could defrost. He also roasted a whole chicken and beef joint in his small oven – from frozen – and did the same in his neighbours oven.
By 8am the next morning he was done. The food was all bagged up or put in containers and laid out on a small kitchen table by the window. The temperature in there was almost zero – so actually colder than your average fridge. He could last for days on these supplies. What a bit of luck that he'd had the idea when he did!
It was indeed lucky, because at about noon on that Friday, the mains gas supply failed.
Bryan lived his solitary life for a few more days, ensuring that his lounge window was completely insulated. However, he kept a kitchen window slightly ajar, to provide ventilation for the gas heater and air to breathe! He made further patrols on Days 9 and 12 to top up his tinned goods and reading materials. He was getting quite good at Sudoku now and had even tried the odd crossword. He may even have to resort to jigsaws to relieve the boredom.
On Day 15, he received callers. A loud knock came at the door and a male voice called loudly to determine if there were any occupants. Bryan walked into the corridor and stood two or three feet back from the wardrobe he'd pre-positioned and had rammed up against the entrance.
He maintained silence – listening and waiting.
‘For the last time, is anybody in? If not, we’re coming in,’ called the voice idiotically.
Ten seconds later someone tried to kick the door in and was rewarded with a jarred leg.
‘Sheee-it!’ cried a voice, in considerable pain.
‘What the fuck is goin’ on ‘ere?’ he moaned.
His pal was unsympathetic.
‘Leave it, you wuss. Look, next door is already open, come on, leave it. It's too much hassle.’
The two men entered the next flat and Bryan heard them ransacking the place, which didn’t take long as Bryan had already made a pretty comprehensive job of it. They left and tried the old lady, who lived in the next flat down the corridor.
‘Let us in!’ the first thug called.
There was no reply, so he kicked the door in.
Thirty seconds later Bryan heard the two men running out of the flat and one was throwing up over the balcony into the snow, which lay not so far below.
‘Oh, my fuckin’ gawd! Did you see what those fuckin’ cats had done to the old woman? Jesus! Let's get out of here - that was fuckin’ disgusting!’
The two men disappeared down the stairwell and after fifteen minutes, Bryan slid the wardrobe to one side and slipped out of the flat. He approached the door belonging to the old girl, and pushed it open. He jumped back in surprise as three cats ran straight past him and scooted up the corridor.
The smell inside wasn’t too bad, due to the intense cold, but the old lady didn’t make good viewing, so Bryan covered her with a blanket from the bedroom, mouthed a silent prayer and vacated the flat. He returned to his own place and wrote out a notice and pinned it to her door – DO NOT ENTER – DEAD BODY INSIDE!
It was the best he could do, and he hoped that any future burglars would leave her with some dignity.
‘I suppose it depends how desperate they get?’ he mused.
The next morning, the two thugs returned and unsuccessfully tried Bryan’s door again. They moved on and he heard them ransacking the fifth flat down, one that he had not yet liberated himself. They spent several hours emptying this flat before trying the sixth door down.
That's when the trouble started.
The young father inside resisted their bid to break in and the two men turned even uglier.
‘Let us in you bastard or we’ll do you good an’ proper when we get in!’
‘Just go away and leave us alone, there are plenty of other flats to plunder. Please, my family is frightened!’
‘Don’t give a shit mate! We are coming in – now,’ at which point he kicked at the door.
Bryan had a decision to make. Did he just keep quiet and save himself, or did he make a stand? Deep down, Bryan was a compassionate bloke and like a lot of decent Britons, he did the decent thing.
He cracked his door open and sauntered down the balcony towards the two assailants.
‘Come on lads, leave it out. There're plenty of other rich pickings, it's a big block.’
The two men stopped kicking at the door and turned towards Bryan.
‘Fuck off, Grandad!’ one blurted, smirking mockingly.
‘Now now, lads. Be reasonable,’ smiled Bryan.
‘I told you, old man, fuck off, or we’ll chuck you over the balcony.’
Bryan paused.
‘Oh, will you now? I'd like to see you try.’ Bryan stood firm. He’d dealt with arseholes like this many a time in his clubs.
The two men looked at each other and laughed.
‘You or me, Jimmy?
At which, the bigger, leaner thug ran at Bryan and swung a haymaker punch. Of course, Bryan had worked the doors for many years and his claim to fame was that no-one – absolutely no-one – had ever laid a fist or a blow to his face.
This idiot was to be no different.
Bryan stepped smartly aside, grabbed the thug’s arm in a two handed grip, propelled him sharply forwards three paces and effortlessly over the balcony.
He turned to face the second man who had started to walk steadily towards Bryan with a look of abject shock and vicious anger on his face.
Bryan stood his ground.
‘Give it up mate. It’ll only end in tears.’
‘Yeah, yours mate!’ snarled the fast appr
oaching yobbo.
The second thug adopted a different approach and swung a kick at Bryan’s groin. However, he had as little luck as his pal. Bryan grasped the leg by the calf, twisted it violently to his right, whereupon the man was forced up against the railings, facing outwards. Bryan promptly stooped down, seized both of his opponent’s ankles and launched the man into space. He actually landed in the same hole as his erstwhile friend, causing mutual and fatal damage to them both – and neither moved. Within twenty minutes, both would be buried by the swirling drifts.
Bryan wasn’t even out of breath. He walked up to the door behind which the young man was cowering.
‘It's alright, mate, they're gone and won't be coming back.’
Silence; then:
‘How do I know it's not a trick?’
‘Look, son, it's me, Bryan from No.9 up the corridor. We spoke last week. This sort of thing is probably going to happen again and we really should pool our resources. I'm in good shape, but you must be a bit desperate by now. Look, if you want to talk to me, come and knock on my door. I don’t really care one way or the other. It's up to you. I'm off now – it's bloody cold out here. Ta-ta!’
Bryan hurried back to his pad, checking that no-one was about to observe him.
He didn’t spot anyone – which didn’t necessarily mean that he'd been unobserved.
Thirty minutes later, there was a gentle knock on his door and Bryan guessed who would be standing outside.
‘Hi, I'm Sean Lucas, and this is my wife, Monica and my daughter, Kirsten. Can we come in?’
Bryan admitted the trio, who were in their early thirties and in a terrible state. They were completely out of food and revealed that their young baby boy had already died of the cold. Bryan immediately fed them and made a quick decision.
‘Right, son, you can lodge with me till this is all over. You can take the bedroom and we’ll get it all fixed up in a trice.’
He transferred the gas heater to the windowless bedroom and it soon warmed up. He then moved everything useful from the Lucas’s flat to their new bedroom, and then put a death notice on their door. The deceased child was wrapped in a blanket and he left the corpse in the Lucas’s bedroom.
‘Right,’ smiled Bryan, ‘now we can get organised. Tomorrow, I’ll be going on another hunting trip to stock up on food. Sean, you can maintain security here. I’ll knock four times to regain entry. I'm not sure if anyone else is alive up here, but we’ll soon find out.’
He glanced at a distressed Monica and apologised.
‘But for now, get some more food down your necks. Also, I think you all need a wash - there’s a bath full of water next door. We’ll sort that in the morning, but now I suggest you get some sleep. You're safe for the time being.’
Sean was overcome with gratitude.
‘What happened to those two men, Bryan? Will they come back?’
‘Don’t think so, Sean, I persuaded them to take a running jump.’
*********
The next morning, Day 16, Bryan completed another sortie into yet more unknown tenant’s flats. He left the inhabited units alone, correctly assuming that the occupants had frozen to death. He broke into one of the apparently unoccupied homes and gutted it of food and some bedding, removing it all back to his own flat, topping up the Lucas’s room. He then completed a quick search of every other apartment remaining on his floor which hadn’t yet been invaded. To his delight he found another LPG heater with cylinder, which he happily donated to his house guests. He also realised that there was enough food to keep them all going for several weeks, and he had also freed up enough toilets for all four of them to use. It would be a bit smelly, but needs must!
He finally decided that he really should try again to offer assistance to the young girl he encountered, who was not the most welcoming earlier in the crisis. But first, he knocked on the doors of the two elderly pensioners who had refused him entrance. There was no reply from either – so he just left them alone. He could imagine the scene within and had no desire to repeat his previous experience.
After knocking and waiting a couple of minutes in the freezing cold outside the girl’s flat, he broke in. In fact, the door was unlocked – someone had already forced their way in. Probably the ‘Flying Burrito Brothers’ he guessed. Bryan crept into the lounge, kitchen and then the bedroom. The place was a tip and most of the food was gone. However, it was the bedroom which brought him down to earth with a bump. The girl was sprawled across her bed, semi-naked, her underwear scattered on the floor, and appeared to have been throttled with a pair of tights, still tied firmly around her neck.
She was stone cold, so Bryan covered her with a sheet and exited the flat. He didn’t feel so bad now about the two ruffians he’d dealt with so summarily yesterday. Perhaps it was some sort of payback for this poor wretch.
Bryan didn’t bother mentioning any of this to the Lucas family, but tried to reassure them that they were safe – for now.
Nobody returned to the eleventh floor for the remainder of the storm – it was highly likely that many of the residents had perished. Bryan made frequent forays to top up the food supply and was quite pleased to be able enjoy the company of his new found friends. He made one excursion to the top floor to assess the situation, but he found no living people and after nosing into a few flats discovered that most had been ransacked as well. What he did find alarming was that the roof had collapsed in three places, exposing several rooms to the elements and snow was pouring in. There were steps leading up to a barred ‘escape exit’ door, but he couldn’t open it and quite properly assumed that snow was blocking it.
He could actually see daylight through the roof openings and stored that information away for possible further use.
By Day 22 – the fifth of January, Bryan was almost at the point of giving up. Weeks of cold food and filthy toilet facilities was taking its toll. The Lucas’s were in bad shape and the little girl was very weak. So when he looked out of his kitchen and saw the sun shining, his spirits soared.
‘Sean,’ he shouted, ‘it's stopped snowing. We've got blue skies and calm conditions outside. Come and look.’
Sean and his family shuffled to the front door, where Bryan had moved the wardrobe allowing the four survivors to walk out onto the balcony to view the scene below. They were shocked by the depth of snow which had buried most buildings – excepting their own and other surrounding blocks.
Suddenly, they heard voices below.
‘Hello; is somebody there?’ a man called.
Bryan put his finger to his lips and shook his head in caution. He moved them back towards his front door and whispered a warning:
‘Best we don’t reveal our position – we've already come up against some bad people. Let's go back inside and I’ll investigate while you stay safe indoors. It would be a shame if something happened to us now – just as rescue is coming.’
After securing his charges, Bryan went on an exploratory mission. He knew that no-one was above him, so he descended the staircase one floor at a time – on full alert. Although he was not at his strongest, he had a trump card up his sleeve which he had been holding in reserve. There were no people on the next two floors down, but on the eighth floor he found a family of five who appeared to be in reasonable shape. They had adopted the same tactics as Bryan, and he determined that it was this family who had called up earlier.
They revealed that there was no-one alive down to the fourth floor - that they knew of. They had discovered several elderly bodies and were upset and frightened when describing the scene in a flat on the fifth floor. It was a similar story to the young girl Bryan had discovered - except that the lady in question was in her forties, but had suffered a similar fate – stocking and all.
Bryan was seriously concerned and worried that the killers were still at large. He hoped that his two yobs were the source, but was not entirely convinced. He bade farewell to the family and returned to his own place, not revealing exactly where he lived.
/>
His next job was to access the roof as he reckoned that any rescue, when it eventually came, would be by helicopter. He walked up to the twelfth floor and examined the roof breaches. It was possible to work his way through the detritus and snow up onto the surface, where he was astonished by the depth of snow. It was twenty feet in places but mini avalanches had cascaded through the breaches, which had now increased to six. After a bit of a scramble, Bryan reached the top of a mound of snow and surveyed the countryside stretching out for miles in the excellent visibility.
‘Thank God,’ he muttered, ‘it shouldn’t be long now.’
He couldn’t have been more mistaken.
It was another four days before they even saw a helicopter. Bryan had set up a rota of lookouts with the family below and after two days of no sightings, they made improvised banners from bed sheets and hung them on two sides of the building. They occasionally spotted the odd skier and shouted greetings down to them. Of course, they could have accessed the surface from the fourth floor, but had no way of traversing the snow. So, in effect they were trapped in the block until rescued. There was nowhere to travel to in any case, and their set-up and shelter was probably as good as anywhere!
On the fifth day, as their morale ebbed away, a chopper approached the Louisiana flats, hovered by the large white banner, spotted Bryan waving wildly and flung out a small package. It sailed onto the balcony from where Bryan recovered it. The helicopter winchman then mouthed a message, combined with hand signals.
‘Tomorrow; noon; roof? Tomorrow; noon; roof?’
Bryan deciphered the message and put up two thumbs in acknowledgement.
As the heli swept away, Bryan turned around to see the Lucas family standing behind him. They all hugged in delight and spent ten minutes reading the government flyers in the package from the rescue heli, after which Bryan ran down to the family below to give them the good news.
He briefed them to assemble at his flat at 11.30am the next day and he would lead them up onto the roof. He told them to read the flyers carefully and obey the instructions to the letter. Basically, they could take themselves, passports and any personal documents and sentimental items they could carry in their pockets. No bags were allowed! Everything else they needed would be provided at the resettlement camps.
Snow! The Series [Books 1-4] Page 61