They sat down, clothes were hung and Leighton ritualistically started the fire. He placed dried leaves methodically at the base and built up a covering of small twigs to grow the fire. He took great care in the construction, scraping a vast space around the base to ensure nothing but the meticulously placed wood would catch light. He was autonomous in his motions.
Meanwhile, Shannon picked through the rucksack, spreading everything Leighton had brought back across the ground to view in front of her. Her mind raced as she connected items together for future meals. She put some of it to the side, a tin of tomatoes, canned ham and a cup from the bag of rice. She thought for the first meal after a week on food from a tube, they should eat one full meal. She stopped her preparations as she realised the newspaper in her hand.
She unrolled it carefully, the cover had no photography, but just simple text filling the front cover: 'Devastated London leaves uncountable death toll.'
“Have you read this?” Shannon asked.
Leighton, still deep in concentration, replied after an extended moment of silence. “Not yet, I haven't had a chance. I just picked it up quickly. What does it say?”
“Ok,” Shannon cleared her throat. “'Last night, German bombers lay waste to the UK capital. So far, the death toll can only be assumed to be in the tens of millions. Major landmarks including the 'gherkin', the arena and the houses of parliament are all flattened in a daylight attack.'” Shannon's voice quivered as she spoke and she stopped to take a sip of water. Leighton remained seated next to his construction, eyes still fixated on the sticks. “With communications including television, radio and internet all remaining down since the bombardment, it is impossible to tell exactly the reasons. Most suspect it is due to Germany forming a new alliance with the Russian president and acting out against Britain after Downing Street steadfastly held the Russian sanctions. No news has yet to reach us as to whether the government provoked the attack, or even if any members of parliament have managed to survive.”
Leighton took a wind-proof lighter to the kindling and blew out carefully to encourage the flames.
“We have to get to my parent’s farm,” Leighton said.
“Do you- do you think they are OK?” Shannon sniffed loudly.
“I found a phone. It was on low battery, my text got through and it then shut down shortly after Mum replied. They are confused, but alive.”
“Why didn't you say sooner? How long do you think it will take to get there?”
“I am not sure. We do know they will have a food store there with provisions for up to a year. I should have said right away that I had heard from then. My head isn't in the game.”
“I- It's alright,” Shannon stammered, carefully trying to ease Leighton without much grace. “We'll eat first and then work out how we'll go. Did you learn anything else while you were there?”
“Only that it is possible that troops may have landed too. To what ends, we can only guess.”
“What really hap-” Shannon cut herself short. “Just... hmm... tell me when you can.”
“Thank you,” Leighton murmured, still not turning to look at her.
They ate Shannon's meal and it was delightful, even without her usual way of spicing foods. They continued till the pots were empty and their stomachs heaved with fullness, which didn't require too much. Shannon had kept some rice aside, watered it down and re-boiled it until it became close to a thick paste. Zeke ate it as eagerly, grabbing at Shannon’s hand to pull the spoon into his mouth quicker.
Leighton declared that he needed some time and that he would try to get something fresh to eat for their next meal. Shannon mildly protested, but knew herself that they would need some energy to walk with all they needed to carry across the country. He took his air rifle and tin of pellets and walked in the woods. He drifted deep in his mind as he walked and he desperately tried to subdue his inner voice. He lay in the soil, part covered by a collection of ferns and aimed out with little haste. The stillness and the active patience washed away the terrible meanderings of his mind. He decided grimly, that the country must be done in its entirety already. Perhaps less than a week was all that was needed. He would need to catch up on some news, when and if that ever became possible.
Leighton recalled his summer shooting sessions with his friend. Laid down prone supporting the rifle on one hand, he got used to the weight of the gun as if shooting for the first time. He consciously practised his breathing.
Chapter 36 - Day 9
The village stood desolate, and had done for over five days. Across it’s footprint on the earth, houses that once stood tall and would have sold for far above their market value, lay strewn into roads. Gardens were coated in rubble and debris from the fall of roofs and their tiles. The streets were covered in dust from the brick and mortar roughly torn apart and pits and potholes marked the surface. One corner of the village held some complete buildings, but they were still devoid of people. Most of the inhabitants had left, but not all. Of the three thousand people that would have called it home, now just a few miles up a long path that joined near the edge of the village remained the last two survivors.
The east side of the village held only a handful of houses with any of their original height left. From the sign for the village’s name next to the road, to the green at its centre that hosted a grassed space in between the two pubs and a large church, barely anything in a single piece. The church itself had caved in from above and the bell tower now lay over two of the adjacent houses. One pub remained standing in all but a few of the outhouses that formally held rooms to rent, the Blue Boar. The green held the culmination of three roads. The one leading west simply paved the way towards more of the same complete destruction of its estates as it wound up the edges of the valley and onwards towards similar towns and farms beyond the changing name of the road. That heading north lead to areas lower than the centre that, although still standing in a mostly completed state, had been abandoned just the same.
It would not be long before Aldbourne would become somewhat of a hive of activity again. In comparison to the current populations of the other towns and villages in the area, it could end up being described as bustling. It was still early in the day and the two inhabitants, Grace Vogel and Mina Bird, resided just at the very edge of the official village borders high up in the valley that ran east and slightly north of that first village name sign at its entrance. Now, though unaware, they were joined by a young Egyptian man cutting a solitary figure with the sun at his back.
Tariq Al-Noor rode slowly into the village taking in the sights of collapsed buildings. He passed a splintered red plastic doorway to his left that opened into a roofless space that was formally a hallway or a dining room. Most of the house had collapsed and only a large bookshelf lying face down was determinable in the mess. Tariq felt as though he was looking for something, rather than just passing through and he took in every detail. He supposed that he was looking for signs of survivors, listening for gasping breaths or calls for help from deep within the piles of bricks and mortar
The street he followed, walking and pushing his bike in between the rubble, took him past the remnants of grocers, tea shops and post offices now only determinable by shards of signage lying in the road and matching colours in paint upon parts of the nearby buildings. Some of the buildings were clearly houses and some others simply crushed their way into the road and could not have been returned to their former uses by any of the best guesses of expert architects. The road bent around to the right and the green came into view. A solitary building stood to one side amongst the rubble, a bold-coloured picture displaying an angry blue pig indicated the likelihood of a pub. However, it was the view of the church tower split at its base, now lying across plots of terraced housing, only lifting as high as a single story from the ground, that inspired awe. Tariq placed his bike down in the middle of the grassy area and dropped his helmet – with wisps of hair – alongside it.
Grace and Mina sat in the kitchen, a few mil
es away. The mood was grim and silence lay between them as they delicately sipped at a waning supply of slightly warm orange juice. A heavy heartbeat raged inside Mina’s chest, and although her hands shook whenever she reached out, she tried with conviction to not let it show to Grace. It wasn’t as if Grace had never seen Mina in one of her moments, but she felt that with everything Grace had going on, a little touch of anxiety would not help their situation if shared openly. Today it would be her battle alone. Mina’s thoughts darted quickly between the state of the village, whether there were more that had needed help still lying in wait, trapped with the worry that they may not have escaped all the bombs. She wondered if whoever was doing it would scan the country from top to bottom again and make sure that every house was flattened.
A short distance away, a couple with their baby walked up the slow incline of a hill that at the top would open a view of the village and its position within a natural bowl. They climbed slowly, carrying all their equipment with them.
“I think there is going to be a village to the other side of the ridge here,” Leighton said as they came within a few hundred meters from where the ground appeared to level off. “I should go ahead. Wait here.” Leighton dropped off a few of his bags and ducked his head down before he reached the top. The land descended much more steeply on this other edge and he crawled prone for the last few metres. He looked down and saw that the steepness lessened quickly and then edged a village at a much lower angle. It gave him a fantastic view, encompassing the other hills and ridges that went around. Some valleys lead the roads away up to the hills, looking like the arms of a star shaped impression. On the side nearest his vantage point, Leighton saw a river winding along within the largest valley with a steep opposite wall. The rest of the village lay north-west of him, a smudge of brick, plaster and tiles spilling into the roads on both sides. The streets to the right of the village defined their roads more clearly with most of them still standing.
Leighton looked through his telescope for a long while, tracing the roads that he could see clearly, tracing every point and turn that he could for signs of life down there. He was happy for now and turned to pick up Shannon and their packs to keep walking. She had sat down on one of the packs, changing Zeke’s nappy. It took her the same length of time as it did for Leighton to walk the distance back. Leighton told her of his decision to go through the village to get on a good road.
When they had lugged everything to the top, Leighton stopped again to get the bearings for where they had to go and get to. He traced the roads that they would have to take back to where they would reach he village. As he looked on the nearside of the damaged buildings on the nearest side of the village, he noticed movement. He tried to look with the naked eye and pinpointed the source of the movement and then brought the telescope back to his eye. He could see half a dozen people moving through the gardens of the houses, a number splitting off to wind around on to the road side before they all ran together to join with eight more people alongside a green. He could see a mix of women moving quickly alongside men who seemed to be carrying hunting guns, but before he could focus in on any individual, they all piled into the only standing building by the green.
Chapter 37
Tariq heard a distinct noise like a crowd’s footfall and turned his head back the way he had come to hear it become clearer. It sounded like a large crowd, though with empty streets devoid of the white noise of cars on concrete and their engines, the sound was echoing off the buildings around him, making it hard to tell how many could be there. He wondered whether to run towards it to see what was happening. It could be a chance to join with some other survivors. It could be another group, like the people he was briefly with nearly a week ago. He was not as ill as he was then, but with his hair gradually falling out, he could easily stand out as a target again. The sound of an engine getting closer ahead of him picked up, but was still a few miles away. Its noise easily cut through the sounds of the wind and the wildlife.
The sound of footsteps stopped and only the engine noise remained. It grew louder before cutting out abruptly and Tariq tried to look through the buildings to pinpoint where the sound had cut out, but couldn’t see anything. He glanced a couple of times back towards the town, in case the noise there picked back up. He needed to get out of the road. If someone came, he would rather it be on his terms and see them first. Looking around, he saw a door left ajar and headed straight for it. He didn’t think of luck and just took the opportunity.
As soon as he got through the door, he jumped two steps at a time to a front facing bedroom above. He kept his bag on and looked out towards the centre of town, the direction that he had heard the footsteps, and from time to time pushed his head against the glass to look back down the road in the direction of the engine noise. It felt like hours, but only minutes had passed when Tariq finally caught sight of movement. It was a man in an army uniform patterned in dark grey and green camouflage. He pulled his head back from the window and hunkered low. He looked around the room and saw a walk-in wardrobe along one wall. He stooped over to it and pulled the door open, finding it mostly empty. Whoever had lived here had left prepared in at some way. He picked himself up to standing, looking out the window from deep inside the room and angled his head until he caught sight of one of the men. They were currently walking up the driveway of one of the houses almost opposite. Two of them used a hand-held battering ram and left the door swinging inwards, an audible bang to Tariq’s vantage point. They were checking the buildings.
Tariq crawled into the wardrobe, sliding the door shut behind him. He had to push at it with his fingernails to get it all the way shut, but to cut out the outside light it was worth a set of aching finger tips that throbbed hotly for a few moments. He stretched out his fingers and pressed the backs of his nails into his palm.
He scrambled around in the dark and took his bag off, placing it in his lap as he pulled himself far into the back end of the wardrobe. In a part – he thought – that would not be noticeable until the entire door was slid back. He hoped that if they opened it at all it would only be a tiny crack to peer in and they could still miss him. He hoped that they would skip this house completely.
Leighton tensed. His eyes struggled to focus. It appeared that a group of around ten soldiers, guns raised were entering the town from the north. The sight suddenly clicked in his mind and he quickly got down onto his stomach and crept further back from the hill edge. By the time he got the lens to his eye again, he could only see a stationary vehicle, just away from the border of the town and glimpses of the soldiers darting between the cover of buildings. He ushered Shannon down just behind him, but she came up alongside him to see what the fuss was about.
“What?” she whispered. “You can't look panicked and drop to the floor without telling me what is happening.”
Leighton shushed her and passed her the scope. With his finger, he pointed down to the side of the village that the soldiers occupied.
“Are they ours? It might be an opportunity to be rescued,” she said with difficulty. Her excitement blended with the necessity for quiet and caution.
“I don't know. There is some more movement in the centre.” Leighton pointed at the spot from earlier. “I thought little of it before, but now I am worried.” He kept his voice hushed in case it carried.
The solitary standing building by the green bustled with movement as people came in and out of various doors. They were wearing heavy woollen shirts and boots from what the couple could make out from the scope. Every one out of three appeared to have a gun, appearing to be shotguns or long hunting rifles.
Leighton took back the telescope and turned to tracking the soldiers intently as they moved through each empty building and drew closer to the assembly of farmers. They seemed to be taking a ram to the doors and two or three would spend a few moments in the house before they moved off to the next. The curve of the road blocked his vision of them for a few moments before they moved over to a house on the left sid
e of the street that required no battering ram to enter.
Chapter 38
“Right,” Grace said, rolling her tongue for emphasis. “We need to get ourselves out of this rut.”
Mina made an acknowledging noise and eventually looked up, wrapping the book around a finger marking her place. “What do you want to do?”
Grace, lifted her leg off the chair in front of her and leant forward. “I don’t know, what do you want to do?”
“Distract myself from our woes by reading this book. It’s good. I could read it out loud for you if you want?” Mina asked.
Grace gave her a flat look.
“…across my face, glugging down water from the large bottle,” Mina read. “I couldn't hear her, but she was animated. Her skinny figure giving her the appearance of a string puppet. She was clearly giving whomever-”
“Ok, bored,” Grace interrupted. “That’s the book I finished yesterday. There must be something fun to do around here.” She started looking at the shelves towards the hallway for something to pique her interest.
Mina held the page open with her finger again as she thought, following Grace’s glances for a hint as to where this was going. “Okay, let’s work out how to make soup.”
“I like it. We get to play with fire, right?” Grace looked excited.
“Yes. That would be a good start.” Mina sighed. “Well, at least you seem to be feeling better. It’s a shame we can’t just burn your energy to heat the water. Do you want to pop down into the basement and get some good veg?” Grace looked sullenly at her leg and Mina let a smirk cross her mouth. “I’ll let you off this time. Let’s try getting a fire going first.”
Ousted: A thrilling debut novel of survival and humanity Page 19