“Ready?” Grace asked, her hand poised with open scissors somewhere above his head.
Tariq released a breath and nodded.
Grace started cutting into the longer hair until it got close enough to the scalp that she could start the wet shave. Before she started she could see where it had thinned in patches and some areas left the scalp bare. She took care and time, applying a small patch with shaving foam and rinsing the blade in the water after every few millimetres of her stokes. The concentration on the task was allowing her to relax and for the first half an hour they spent like that, no thoughts of injuries or illnesses crossed either of their minds. They talked naturally and Tariq told her about the things that seemed weird in England after growing up in Egypt.
That conversation moved on to him explaining what it was like when he was growing up and particularly about being a teenager during the Arab Spring uprising. Grace found it hard to grasp the concept of such a large revolution happening and was disbelieving when Tariq talked through in detail the mirror in events to the KoYΔ riots he had witnessed in this country.
“That was here?” She asked incredulously.
“Damn straight it was. Me and-” Tariq cut off for a moment. “Me and Anton were reporting on it, right amid it all happening. We fled when we saw the soldiers coming in to meet the group as we would have been right behind the path of the bullets. The shocking thing was the lack of coverage. During the Arab Spring, we had Al-Jazeera and BBC News keeping a mediating eye on proceedings. The riots – and the deaths – in London recently never got mentioned in detail. The subjugation of that news after the event was more terrifying. Here was me thinking that Britain was a freer country than my own. Perhaps I was wrong.”
All Grace could manage was a murmur and an erratic nod, taking in the information that opposed her belief. As she finished Tariq’s head she figured she should be less surprised after everything that had happened in the last fortnight.
Mina spent the morning huddled in her corner slowly picking at the bread she picked up from breakfast, ignoring the sounds of people talking mutedly and moving around the rest of the barn aimlessly. She had found a gap in the wall near her that allowed her to see the rest of the farm complex. In what she assumed was the centre, was a circular raised flower bed within which a large oak tree flourished, leaves spreading out in the sun. The other side of that hosted a large metal structure to house animals, though it was devoid of them now. It looked to be made of several stalls made up of metal bars. In two places, the back wall had a break that showed behind it the rising ground densely covered with trees. The roof was flat and not steeply angled, meeting the rear wall at its lowest point and the canopy of the woods could be seen easily rising over the horizon line at the top of the hill.
To Mina’s right, she could see the main two-storey farmhouse, which stood grandly with dormer windows in the steep roof that had a white trim that matched that of the roof peak on the near end.
She could see a few soldiers milling around throughout the morning. The first was a while after breakfast, when a lone man, young and blond cleared a bunch of bags out of the Land Rover that she had been transported in the day before and threw them into a shed that stood some way to the left of the animal stalls. She watched the front of the house for some time before she noticed a silo that reared up behind it. Later, a pair of men, one greying at his temples and the other in a dark blue beret, walked down the driveway that stretched out of her line of sight to the left and two others returned, both with dark hair.
She spent her time that way, pressed up against the hole, trying to gauge how many may be around. Since her capture yesterday, she had picked up that the young blond man was always one of two that came to open the door to leave food and empty the bucket of water that had been left as a toilet in the corner on the other side of the door. He was always accompanied by a fatter brown-haired man, but she had convinced herself that there were two of a similar build and hair colour, but she couldn’t see enough detail in any of the men’s faces to be able to know for certain whether to count two or just one. She had seen the two men that had taken her the previous day on one of the patrols, but most of the other six she thought she could account for had been on two.
Her train of thought was broken by the in-swinging door. They must have come from the other direction as she hadn’t seen them, but a presence must indicate lunch. She was sucked deep into thought. Why was she in that barn? It seemed clear to her that there was no risk of a court marshalling for not following the rules of war, not that she felt that rules of war were even adhered to or relevant. War was war. Mindless killing of children by other brainwashed children for money or power or both. They could – should – have just killed her in her own home and taken what they wished. They must have a purpose that involves her being alive for at least a while longer yet. She contemplated the packet of tablets in her bra and subdued her thoughts. Grace still needed her.
Tariq sat next to Grace at the kitchen table. In front of them lay an array of reference books, pens and half-used pads of paper, with an unfolded ordinance survey map spread out underneath it all covering most of the table. Tariq had taken a pencil to the map which traced a route from Mina’s house to the western edge of Draycot Foliat. Off from the thickly blackened path, various faint lines branched off still coated in rubbings where his ideal route had changed repeatedly. While he had been focussed on a route that would take them west of the destination town without going through any villages, Grace had been jotting down a list for things they would need. She had scanned through several books on self-sustained and off-grid living and had come to a list that in two columns filled an A4 page of the notebook.
Tariq looked over the list and asked, “How are we going to shift all this stuff? -And you?”
“Well, I saw Mina come down to the shop once with a little bike trailer to carry groceries. We could look at that.”
Tariq mulled it over. “That will certainly do. So, on the list how much of it do we need?”
“That depends on how long we are staying. This is the long list of potential equipment and supplies. How long does your part of the plan take?”
“Let me see.” Tariq unravelled a ball of string and held it carefully along his proposed route. “I reckon a day and a half should be comfortable. That allows for the awkwardness and energy sapping process of carting you about, regular stops and getting lost on at least two occasions.”
“I can take the stool ‘a.k.a. Zimmer-frame’. Would that be easier?”
“Two days.” Tariq said firmly, “No. I can take you.”
Grace was taken aback by his tone. “I can stay here and you can go. You could be there and back in a day without me.”
“No chance.” Tariq realised what he was doing and softened his face deliberately. “It’s all good, Grace. I don’t want to get Mina back here and see you having had an accident. The day and a half is only there, so we would still need that again to get back and we don’t know a single thing about where they are set up, nor the intelligence of the other members of the squad. I want to have you close over there so I can look after you. Plus, once we get Mina it would be easier to plan for whatever else we need to do if we’re mobile already.”
Grace pondered the man’s already fierce loyalty to her wellbeing and why he would be like that so quickly. She stopped as she noticed herself staring quizzically at him. “Will you have a look at this list and see if we can narrow it down.”
Tariq leaned over her shoulder while she read off the list. He took it all in before questioning her on the availability and feasibility of each item and as he did so they put pen marks through those that answered ‘no’.
Leighton had spent the day almost silently as he huddled his family back into the straw. The dominant noise in the barn was the sniffs and sobs coming from the five people over to their right. It was some time into the afternoon when he had figured out they must have been involved in the failed ambush the day before. His mind ha
d been numb and very little attention could be channelled into the situation they found themselves in. Lunch had been very much like breakfast except for the addition of some slabs of cheese. He had gotten to it second – after Mina – and picked the softest bits of bread and cheese for Shannon and Zeke. Mina, having simply ripped the end of the bread off must have endured the stale crust. The group inside the barn had a glass of water each from the jug provided with each meal.
There was a bucket in the corner by the door which was for use as a toilet. It was not often used such was the parched throats they all endured in between the meals. It did seem to Leighton that it was thankfully changed each time the door was opened.
The rest of the day drifted lazily past. Shannon rarely spoke except for high-pitched whispers with Zeke. Leighton thought that it was being rudely awakened in the middle of night that the boy felt more docile than normal, Leighton felt the same. Zeke seemed more than content to live on his mother’s lap for the day’s duration. Eventually, dinner came. It must have come late as the sky outside the barn door was starting to dim. This meal was certainly better than the previous two. It consisted of a baked potato and a pot of something resembling a pasta sauce. It tasted bad in comparison to Shannon’s last carefully prepared meal. Compared to the seven meals before that, it was a veritable feast.
The crying from the other group seemed to get louder as the dark of night washed over them. It was reaching pitch darkness inside before the artificial lights in the complex came on. It was a while after that one of the soldiers came and banged on the outside of the wooden wall near them to encourage them to quieten down and it was only then that Leighton noticed behind him the rhythmical sounds of his family in deep sleep. He spent a while attempting to join them, before getting lost in the sight of the stars through the opening in the roof. He told himself to talk to the farmers tomorrow, before it would be considered weird not to have done so before, even allowing for their grieving state.
The sky grew darker and the stars grew brighter. Leighton had no idea how long he had been awake for, shutting his eyes together only for the briefest instants. He was disturbed each time by the feeling in his mind of pushing himself off that warm, but dead body.
Chapter 45 - Day 11
Tariq loaded the panniers and another rucksack along with his own onto the bike. They were all loaded with as many dry foods as they had been able to conjure up from Mina’s cupboards. Grace sat herself forward in the cart with her cast leg leant up quite comfortably on the pannier in front of her. Her head would have overhung the back if hadn’t been raised up on a stack of water bottles that Tariq had found in the basement and had filled with water from the stream.
The first part of the route took them back through the town so they could leave it again heading south-west. Tariq tried to take a good pace from the outset, but had found it hard going over the rough path and when he turned to glance at Grace over his shoulder he could see her bumping around, just about holding her leg on the pannier. He slowed down quickly after that, which made it harder to push through the potholes without the momentum behind the front tyre.
They went through the town quicker once on the smoother road with enough space to weave around the more damaged parts of the concrete. Grace saw the building that was previously her shop and kept her eyes on it sadly and silently for as long as she comfortably could as they went past. As she straightened her neck forward again, the green appeared to her right in between buildings where the road led up to it. She noticed Tariq sneer awkwardly and look away from it quickly. She took a moment to work out what had caused him to do so, until it dawned on her what those dark mounds indicated. She thought back about the pops and cracks she had heard alongside Mina two days prior. She was grateful when it became obvious that that was the closest they would go to it, but it lingered in her mind longer than she was comfortable with, wishing she could at least be doing something that could distract her. Walking, hobbling along using the bike for support, anything, but be pulled along helplessly.
They were out of the town and out along a long straight road that had a bend that would take them north-west for a number more miles. It was on the outside of that bend, able to see over a mile in each direction, that they stopped properly for the first time. Tariq had worked up a sweat under his t-shirt and stared down the road ahead of them as he gulped from one of the bottles. He looked tired. He passed the bottle roughly to Grace who took more controlled sips and he flung himself onto his back atop the soft verge.
Breakfast seemed to come later the next day. Late enough that the farmers were already awake by the time the door swung open. The baby at the other end of the barn was what woke Mina up. She had stayed awake for as long as she could, staring out into the floodlit complex looking for clues to the patrols and routines of the soldiers. She figured that it may be pointless without a watch and paper to make notes on, but still wanted to try in case it became useful information when time for her escape came around.
When the door opened to deliver breakfast, the three male farmers stood up quickly to ensure they reached the plates first. As the door swung closed they tore into the bread before the chain and padlock were even locked and in place. As they walked back to the two women with them, Mina noticed from under her hood, a disgusted look thrown in her direction. Anxiety flared up in the depths of her stomach and she lost all appetite. She saw that they had taken a larger share than would go around the nine of them fairly. She noticed Leighton walking towards the tray and she went over to intercept him. She needed a distraction.
“Hi,” she said. “I think they took more than they should have.” She had aimed for a conversational tone, but couldn’t keep bitterness from her tongue.
Leighton looked over at them sat in a closed circle eating and talking, but he couldn’t work out what they were saying. “Oh well. Never mind.” Leighton shrugged it off.
“I’m not hungry. You take the rest and make sure you keep that boy fed.”
Leighton chuckled and waved her offer away. “Why don’t you come meet him? Might be more comfortable for you to sit in a group. You don’t look like you can afford too many missed meals.”
Mina blushed and with another glance over his shoulder, Leighton picked up the whole tray and walked with Mina in tow back to Shannon and Zeke. Leighton’s son was sat upright with a bale of straw as a back-rest and seemed unfazed by the stranger. She waved enthusiastically enough to get a smile back in return.
“This is my son, Zeke, and wife, Shannon. This is-.” He cut off. “Sorry I don’t think I remember your name.”
“It’s Mina,” she filled in. “Nice to meet you.” She reached out her shaking hand and Shannon took it and then did the same for Zeke to grab which he took, directing her little finger straight towards his mouth. She pulled away before he could take a bite.
Leighton put out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Mina. Come, sit down.” Over Mina’s shoulder he could see glances in their direction from the others and he dropped his look to Shannon, who was giving him a quizzical expression. “She was on her own over in the corner, I figured she might want some company. You’ll never guess what they did, Shannon.” Leighton was suddenly enraged, snarling around his words. “They took too much bread!”
“Settle down, honey. We’ll do fine. Sit down,” Shannon said with a nervous smile to both Leighton and Mina. Leighton obliged, thrusting a fist into the straw as he did so. Shannon turned to Mina, “So how long have you been in here?”
Mina cast a wary glance at Leighton before answering. “Only the afternoon before you came in during the night,” Mina replied. “Where are you two from and how did you wind up in here.”
Shannon started and eventually Leighton and she took turns explaining parts of the journey, starting with leaving the house and their slow walk across the country. They didn’t mention the town with the convenience store as he led that part of the story. They explained what they saw at the village, to occasional gasps from Mina, especially when
it became clear who the other people in the barn were. After that, she explained her own part at the village, hearing the distant bangs like fireworks and the eventual arrival of the soldiers that had brought her to that farm. She left out the fact that she left her injured friend at that house to fend for herself and that she intended to escape in the not-too-distant future.
The conversation ended when the door opened and flooded the barn with midday light. The barn otherwise had a reasonable ambient light given the cracks and holes in the wooden walls and roof. The silhouettes of the three men close in front of the door, broke the light. “Look, Shannon, they’re going to do it again, this isn’t right. It’s not fair.” He gesticulated wildly towards the men. After a short rant, Shannon was able to calm him down.
Shannon told Mina, privately, “I’m sorry about him, Mina. He’s taken things pretty hard. I’m not sure I even know the full story behind it.”
Grace switched her eyes between the road behind, the road ahead and Tariq, who was now sat up on the verge flicking his eyes in the same manner down the road. There was no sound of vehicles. Grace felt as though they were truly in the middle of nowhere, although only a few miles separated them from named towns and villages, even if those settlements had no body to settle in them.
“You look tired already, Tariq,” she said. “Do you want a snack before we get going?” He looked pale.
“Yes, please,” he replied. “What has the most sugar?” Grace lifted her leg from the pannier and pulled herself forward to rummage through it. She came up with a flapjack bar with honey and threw it gently to Tariq who caught it easily in one hand. “Thanks, I just need sugar to lift my energy levels. It’s a hard walk with the bike, I can feel it in my back and shoulders from leaning across it.”
“I can imagine,” Grace said empathetically. “You need to switch sides as we go. It looks as though it will be easier going for the next part along this road.” Tariq nodded, eyes focussing on his next bite while he continued to chew the last one. Grace watched him eat. Once he was swallowing the last mouthful she spoke up again. “Why do you even care about me, Tariq? Why are you looking after me? -And why are you helping me rescue Mina? Surely it would be the sensible option for you to just pack up and leave me here or better yet, never come to me at the house. You could easily survive much more efficiently on your own than with some poor injured woman.”
Ousted: A thrilling debut novel of survival and humanity Page 23