by Adam Steel
‘Thank you for helping us Colin. I don’t know what we would have done if…’ Ellie said gratefully, trailing off half way through. She felt exhausted.
Colin had two Great Danes that nuzzled Ellie as she made her way with Irene into the lounge.
‘Duke and Daisy,’ Colin said affectionately.
Ellie stroked the muzzle of one of the dogs. The dog was trusting and gentle and the feel of its soft fur made Ellie feel comforted and sad at the same time.
That night – as it grew darker outside – they all sat together sharing the fear of what had happened, while Colin (accompanied by Duke and Daisy) explained what he had heard from his friend, Ben.
Ben had cycled back from Gatwick Airport with the news he was sharing with them. It was not good.
Ben had told Colin that most of Gatwick Airport had been destroyed and that most of the planes coming in or out of Gatwick at 12.00 had crashed and the huge fires that they had caused had set alight many of the planes on the ground. He had also explained that the fireball was so bad that it destroyed whole terminals of the airport, including most of the rescue services. He had explained that the planes had fallen from the skies over London and the surrounding areas, and that a lot of them had landed on urban areas, and that the destruction was so vast that the rescue services were unable to cope. Ben had gone on to inform Colin that he knew that the armed forces were setting up an emergency, military base on the outskirts of what used to be London and that some kind of elite rapid response team had already begun to setup there. He had explained that the Army was rounding up anyone who had medical experience to go there and help with the disaster. Ben had also confided to Colin that he had been scared shitless when he heard the gravity and scale of the situation from the soldiers. He had confided that he thought the soldiers knew that the main cities of the country had been attacked by a series of crippling and devastating electromagnetic pulse weapons, the like of which nobody had ever seen before. Ben had cried when he had told Colin that the attack had obliterated the capital city of London and knocked out all the electronics and communications systems and that nobody had any idea where the threat had come from. Ben had known some of the soldiers because they worked on the security at the airport. He had told Colin that they had informed him that riots were breaking out in the prisons and there had been a lot of escapes and that the last thing one of the soldiers had said to him was, “This is bad, Ben. Really fuckin’ bad. We have orders to shoot to kill – and we’re going to – mark my words. You only have to look at what happened down in New Orleans after hurricane Katrina, or what happened after the earthquake in Haiti, to see what desperate people can do. Get away from the towns and hole up somewhere secure because it’s going to get really fuckin’ dangerous out on the streets.”
Colin paused.
The frightened villagers sat in stunned silence.
Colin continued to explain that a hospital nearby had been catastrophically destroyed, along with the police station and several large shopping malls in the centre of the town. The transport system was at a total standstill apart from some older trucks. The Army had cordoned off London and were preventing anyone from going within twenty miles of the centre. When Colin had finished telling them about the scenes at the airport, he stopped. He gave a few short ‘sighs’ before bending down and embracing his two dogs which were sitting each side of him on the soft carpet.
‘Jackie, my wife…’ he paused, ‘she worked at the airport.’
His voice was choked and muffled and he buried his head deeply into the folds of Duke’s fur and cried silently.
The villagers looked at him unsure of how to react.
Ellie thought it was desperately sad to see such a big strong man reduced to sobbing into the fur of his dog, knowing that his wife was probably dead.
The villagers shrank back, considering their own awful situation. The realisation of the scale of the ‘attack’ was beginning to sink in for all of them.
Ellie and Irene spent the dark hours at one of the upstairs windows, looking out on the sporadic fires that were erupting in the distance.
The distant orange glow grew steadily until it lit the whole horizon like a tropical sunset.
Red sky at night – shepherd’s delight, Ellie thought insanely when she looked upon it.
They heard shots and bangs and people screaming in the night. At intervals there would be banging on the door below, but Colin did not open it after dark.
No one got any sleep that night.
Early the next morning an army truck pulled up outside of Colin’s Inn. Two young soldiers jumped out and knocked hard on the solid door. They were dressed strangely, in black and red combat trousers with matching ‘flak’ jackets.
Ellie had not seen anyone dress that way before and it unnerved her.
Colin let them in and they were quickly surrounded by the villagers pleading with them for information about what was happening. The two young soldiers were evasive and requested that anyone with medical experience come forward.
It had been just as Ben had predicted.
Ellie, Irene and another young woman called Bridget, volunteered to go with them.
Bridget was a well-spoken young woman in her early twenties. She had short, black hair and was small and slightly on the plump side. She was attractive in a homely sort of way.
The three exhausted young women were escorted into the back of the truck where they were joined by several other pale and tired looking people. The truck was joined by two more trucks as it made its way to the new military base on the outskirts of London.
The passengers watched in despair as they drove past looted shops, littered streets, fires and people walking around dazed and confused. Ellie clamped a hand over Irene’s eyes as the truck rolled past the body of a young man lying in a pool of dried blood.
The orange glow coming from London was as bright as ever and the thick black smoke stretched out for miles over the devastated city outskirts.
Bridget started crying as they neared the military base. An older man, who had introduced himself as ‘Brian’ put his arm around her shoulder and “shushed” in an attempt to console her.
Brian was a dentist. He had received some basic medical training before he had gone into the lucrative business of private dentistry. He had escaped the blast that hit London because he had missed his train connection and his flight and he had thanked God for his luck that day.
The small convoy of trucks slowed to a halt at the shiny new perimeter fence of the newly formed military base. The base had been hastily erected on the site of an old university campus. The main building (which once housed professors and students) now housed the military commanders. It was an imposing building. Hanging from its outside was an unfamiliar tapestry. Its black and red colours fluttered in the breeze like a flag. It had a strange silver symbol of a key embroidered onto it. A huge metal fence, topped with razor wire, had been erected around the whole site and sentries were posted at intervals along its borders. On either side of the double gates, armed soldiers checked the trucks that were coming in and out.
On the top of the gate was a sign. It read: ARETHUSA
Brian said that it was Latin for to become excellent.
Their truck made its way towards the green tented city that was growing in the grounds. It was populated by soldiers and medics. Army trucks were driving in and out of the massive compound, ferrying supplies and more tents on what used to be the university sports fields. A mass of moving uniforms dashed in and out of the tents.
Their truck stopped and they got out. They were instructed to follow one of the soldiers. They made their way to a tent marked: Medical Staff. Registration
A table had been laid out in front of the tent and an orderly line had formed in front of it. Medical volunteers from all backgrounds were bending over the bench filling out forms and taking orders from the soldiers that were sitting behind the table.
Ellie found herself in front of one of the soldiers.
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His badge read: Corporal Richards.
He was wearing the same strange black and red garb as the other two soldiers who had brought them in.
Ellie explained nervously that she was only a second year medical student, not even qualified.
Corporal Richards did not look up from his pile of registration forms.
He was a handsome man; aged about thirty with cropped brown hair.
Ellie noticed that his slender hands were shaking.
‘Name?’ he asked, taking a draw from his cigarette.
‘Elinor Rushford,’ she replied compliantly.
‘Occupation?’
‘Medical student…School of medicine,’ she paused. ‘I was studying in London. We were down at Brighton, yesterday, when it happened. Me and Irene,’ she said, taking a quick breath in and nodding at Irene and Bridget, who were was busy filling out their registration forms.
He looked up at her irritated. He was not used to talking to civilians and had to catch himself. The young woman he saw was pretty, with long blonde hair. She had an exhausted, hollow look on her pale face. He had seen a lot of faces with that expression since the fateful hour. He took another draw on his cigarette and leaned back.
Ellie continued with her recount of the event, but his look of irritation was totally lost on her.
‘My mum and dad are there. In London I mean. They work there,’ Ellie went on, as though it was a stranger talking. Hearing the words which she knew meant, that they were there – but now they are dead. Please don’t confirm it.
Corporal Richards looked back down at his paperwork. He couldn’t blame the woman for talking. She was not a soldier. She did not understand yet.
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but London has been destroyed,’ he said bluntly, avoiding her eyes. ‘We believe that every major city in the country has gone the same way. You know what that means don’t you?’ he said uneasily.
He couldn’t look her in the face. He was sick of seeing pain when he had to tell people the same thing.
‘We need people here that are useful. In return we’ll give you a safe place to live and feed you and believe me you’re going to need that. Are you fit to help? Otherwise you’re no use to us. Sorry but that’s the way it is,’ he finished, without looking at her.
Ellie felt her knees weaken. A cold chill ran through her body. She took the forms he was holding out to her and nodded. A single tear dropped onto the sheet he had handed her and he saw it fall.
‘Corporal Davis, over there,’ he gestured, ‘he will show you where you’ll be staying and provide you with uniforms.’
‘I’m not qualified,’ Ellie said hesitantly.
She noticed that his hand was shaking as he wrote something on one of the forms.
‘In this situation, it’s not going to make any difference,’ he replied solemnly.
Ellie stepped back from the table clutching the forms and made her way through the traumatised lines of volunteers to where Corporal Davis was standing.
A small group of volunteers had gathered around him (including Irene and Bridget) who had already completed their forms. Corporal Davis led the newly acquired volunteers to one of the long green tents on the edge of the sports field.
The tent had a sign painted on it that read: ARETHUSA - STATION 9 W.
The W stood for women’s quarters.
They were issued with green uniforms and allocated a bed space. During that day the tent filled up with new women who had been picked up and brought in from the surrounding area and Ellie found that she was not alone in her grief at the loss of her parents. Many of the newly recruited medics had lost someone, or knew of a friend or family member that had perished in the dying days of London.
Arethusa became home for Ellie, Irene and Bridget.
The days and weeks stretched into months as Ellie and Irene were set to work. At first the casualties that poured in threatened to overwhelm them. Trucks streamed in with blackened bodies. They slaved away with their new colleagues on the burns victims, despite their work, most of them died. Ellie’s suspicions about the disaster were confirmed. They were not radiation burns; it was something new, different. Flash burns from some unknown source. Slowly the stream of victims had changed. Casualties were brought in with slashes and knife wounds, or gunshot injuries. The rattles of gunfire that erupted out from the perimeter shattered Ellie’s sleep each night as the soldiers fought off raids by looters. The fences were replaced with large imposing walls and the sentries with machine gun emplacements.
Arethusa became a fort.
Outside of Arethusa, society broke down and people fell into the deepest depths of depravity and desperation. The stories the survivors brought in with them were desperate, infectious. They spoke of gangs and warlords that ran the devastated streets. The country had become a war-zone. In the mornings she saw teams sweeping outside of Arethusa, collecting the bodies of their assailants for disposal. The death toll in the country was so massive that they stopped counting. Teams of workers in unusual biohazard suits arrived. They were black and bulky, the people within hidden completely by the outfits. They wore gas-mask helmets with cold, shining, blue eyes.
Ellie had shivered when she had seen them.
They were like robotic reapers, who had come to claim the dead. They sprayed the corpses with a glowing blue liquid.
“To prevent the spread of disease,” it was claimed.
“Something developed by a new science team,” they had said before transporting the bodies away for clean disposal.
The people on the base nicknamed the substance ‘Blue Velvet.’
The images of death (and blue glowing corpses) haunted Ellie as the months rolled by.
Ellie rarely saw the base commander. His name was Lieutenant Deckler. When he appeared he wore a long trailing leather coat, much like an admirals. He was escorted everywhere by a group of the black and red uniformed soldiers.
Ellie quickly learned they were some kind of ‘special unit’ and not to question them.
Deckler brought with him an aura of hope amidst the chaos. He set up his office in the main building and presided over Arethusa with ruthless efficiency. More soldiers filed into the base. They had come from abroad; recalled from every foreign posting.
Slowly the attacks waned and the bodies slowed to a trickle. Soldiers began to spread out further afield picking their way through the wreckage.
The rebuilding finally began and talk stopped about London and the other cities. It was as if they never existed.
When anyone referred to the catastrophe they said it was:
The Day of Reckoning
Chapter 1: The Masons
20 YEARS LATER
The Vault: Coney City
Deep underground, a set of huge, vaulted, metal doors slid open to the sound of a hundred winding gears. Eight robed figures filed into the vault. Far below the vast headquarters of Fin-Sen in Coney City lay the inner sanctum of Utopia. It came to life in response to the presence of its masters who were illuminated by a soft blue light that spilled into the circular chamber from the eight octagonal screens. The screens were arranged around a column in the centre of the room. The column housed the main frame computer system that controlled all of the main institutions in Utopia.
One by one the figures took up their places with reverence before each screen around the centre column. The hue from the screens reflected off their white robes and lit up the matching platinum keys that hung on a chain around each of their necks.
The key was a double-sided skeleton key with an octagonal shaped handle. The shank of the key ended with two teeth bits that formed and F to left, and E to the right: a reminder of what they symbolised for Utopia. Freedom and Equality. Each of the platinum keys was encoded with a unique microchip in its shank.
The presence of the figures triggered a holographic projection of an elderly bearded man above the column. The transparent eyes of the image looked down on the figures as it spoke. His kind face
did not match the coldness of the computer generated voice that accompanied his image.
‘Greetings fellow citizens. Step up and pledge your allegiance to Utopia.’
Around the eight sides of the column the names of the masons were engraved in platinum: Damon Deckler, Marlene Henson, Bruce Katcher, Hester Royale, Paul De-Barr, Henri Batide, Alexis Coney and Jonus Coney.
The masons had come to power through their leadership and guidance following The Day of Reckoning, at the formation of Utopia. They had brought swift order to the madness and rebuilt with a speed that defied explanation. Most of the old leaders had died alongside the city of London. The ones who survived had fled in all directions like rats from a burning ship. They had watched Great Britain die from far away and had shaken their fists in anger when the Order emerged from the wreckage and rebuilt an enviable society from the ruins. The old leaders had shouted and cursed at the power they had squandered (and then thrown aside) but they were ignored. The survivors followed actions, and the brave example of the new leaders amongst them, and nobody’s actions could eclipse those of the enigmatic masons.
While Great Britain imploded, the world had watched as the upstart nation was torn asunder by its own people following the disaster.
The world leaders talked. The accusations of responsibility for the disaster flew back and forth as nations shrank back within their own borders. Fear and paranoia of the new and devastating electromagnetic pulse weapons (EMPW) that had destroyed Great Britain created a dangerous world of fear and isolation. Great Britain was left to smoulder like a smoking corpse, while the others looked to their own interests and defences. There were no more flights into the devastated country and there was nothing left to loot. The once ‘Great Britain’ was abandoned like a huge graveyard; its people left to fend for themselves: a testament to the power of new, deadly and unknown weapons. It was not until the masons had shocked the ‘corpse’ of the nation back to life with their revolutionary new power system Project F2-Genie, that anyone began to take notice of the fledgling new nation.