by Haywood, RR
‘He’s Frank McGill,’ Dave said as Carmen turned to look at Frank then a second later she drew and aimed her pistol at his head. Then Henry did the same and the rest of us were looking on like what the fuck! Just how bad is this guy?
‘Come on then,’ Frank sad, puckering his lips and pulling a silly face as Marcy smiled while shooting glances at the way the others were aiming at him. She stepped in and kissed him on the lips. She told me later she was half-expecting him to try and slip his tongue in or something, or even try for a grope. But he stayed perfectly still, showing a grace and decency that she wasn’t expecting.
‘If it does happen then tell Kyle I called him a god-bothering twat and I’m coming back to haunt him.’
‘Okay, Frank,’ Carmen said, swallowing as the seconds once more ticked by. ‘You okay?’ she asked when it hits one minute.
‘No,’ Frank said, making everyone tense from the strain in his voice. ‘I can feel something in my gut.’
‘Jesus, Frank… You’ll be okay,’ Carmen said.
‘I’m not so sure, love,’ he said quietly.
‘Frank. Stop being a prick.’
‘I’m sorry, Carmen,’ he said, rubbing his gut with a grimace while we’re all reaching for our rifles. ‘This is going to be bad,’ he added before letting rip with a fart. ‘Cor, that’s better.’
‘You fucking dick!’ Carmen said as the rest of us laughed at the breaking tension.
‘Cor, that really smells. Can I move yet?’ Frank asked, checking his watch. ‘Yeah. That’ll do. Great kiss, and next time don’t put your tongue in my mouth,’ he said to Marcy while winking at me.
‘I didn’t,’ Marcy said as I gave her a look. ‘I didn’t! He was joking.’
‘What a fucking day,’ I said. ‘Load up I guess. We’re moving out. And watch out for falling satellites,’ I added with a glance up at the clear sky. Expecting to see one plummeting down.
There wasn’t, but I figured it was only a matter of time.
Cos why wouldn’t it? We’re shit magnets.
12
After Henry gave Heather one of his encrypted military radios we said our goodbyes and clambered back into the Saxon to follow the path of all that is good and right, and most likely blunder into more shitfests.
‘Bloody hell it’s hot,’ Clarence said. I glanced over to see him shifting about in the passenger seat with beads of sweat rolling down his face. He was right though. The air felt charged with heat. Even the steering wheel felt hot in my hands. ‘You happy with everything Henry said then?’ he asked.
‘Fuck knows. Lot to take in really. What about you?’
‘Don’t know,’ he said at length. ‘I think he knew.’
‘Knew what?’
‘Henry. I think he knew he was immune, or infected. I think he knew before he did that test with Marcy.’
I nodded back, realising that I thought the same, but just not on a level to verbalise. ‘The pin,’ I said.
Clarence nodded at the same time. ‘He had it ready for Marcy. So he knew he was going to do that test.’
‘Carmen was worried about Frank though.’
‘I’m not saying Carmen knew, or Frank either. But Henry. I think he did. And don’t forget, these guys are skilled actors. They see what you want them to see.’
I drove on in silence. Thinking it all over. ‘Yeah,’ I finally said and offered a shrug because what could we do?
Clarence did the same. Lifting his huge shoulders as he leant closer to the open door. Those doors are heavy too, and to hold one open against the wind without any sign of strain shows just how bloody strong he is. ‘He’s smart too,’ Clarence said. ‘I didn’t meet that many spooks in the military, but Chris did. He always said they’re on another level. He said these guys can think in two languages at once.’
‘Eh?’
‘Try it. Try and think in two languages at the same time.’
‘I don’t even know two languages.’
‘Exactly. These guys do. They know lots of languages, and they can think on lots of levels all at the same time.’
‘Fuck off,’ I said, casting him another look before I twisted in my seat. ‘Charlie? What languages can you speak?’
‘English, French, Spanish, and German, and some others.’
‘Can you think in two languages at once?’
‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘Can you think in two languages at once? Hang on, so I’ll give you a question right, but you think of the answer in English, French and Spanish at the same time. What colour are Cookey’s eyes?’
‘Blue. Bleu. Azul,’ she replied then pauses, trying to work out if she thought of them at the same time or one after the other. ‘Gosh. I don’t know. I think one after the other, but it was so fast it felt like it was at the same time.’
I nodded and offered a thumbs up while driving on into the country lanes. Sunlight dappled the windscreen. The wind blew through the open door and the big engine vibrated the chassis as the wheels trundled on. There’s something about that noise and motion. Something deeply soothing and homely and it always brings forth a surge of love for the Saxon. That’s it become such a place of safety and comfort.
‘Yeah, Henry is smart,’ Clarence added a good few moments later and that too shows how far we have come. That our conversations can be broken and filled with long gaps but still flow and have meaning.
‘We’ll see,’ I added.
We drank water and we drove on. We listened and we watched, and the seconds of our lives turned into minutes as the world beyond the hot tin can recovered from the blight of humanity.
‘Heather said she opens the gates,’ Clarence said after a while longer. ‘To the fields. She smashes them down.’ I glanced over at him. ‘For the animals,’ he added. ‘So they can get out.’
‘That’s really nice,’ I replied and started looking out for gates to smash down. We spotted one further up, but it was already mangled and busted. The same with the one a mile after that. And then the next ones too. ‘It’s like breadcrumbs,’ I said with a smile. ‘We can see where she’s been.’
‘One mile warning to the town ahead, chaps,’ Reginald’s voice came through the radio.
‘Cheers, Reggie,’ I transmitted back then frowned at the thought of Henry remaining impassive while inwardly tutting at our crass non-military ways. ‘Er, roger that. Confirmed and affirmative. Ten four and… Ten four copy. Over and out,’ I added as Clarence just stared at me.
‘Ten four?’
‘What’s wrong with ten four? That’s what radio people say.’
He nodded and stared ahead.
‘It’s what radio people say,’ I said again.
He nodded and stared ahead.
‘Fuck you,’ I added.
He smiled and stared ahead.
We pulled over, and the hot bodies dropped from the hot tin can, but in so doing, we walked into the air of an oven only to gasp and grumble.
All of us red-faced with slick hair and wet clothes while Henry and his team looked fresh and cool. I headed over to Roy’s van and found Maddox already pulling the drone from the back as Nick grabbed it like a protective parent. Clearly not wanting anyone else to touch it.
‘Ah. I see. Gaining advanced reconnaissance intelligence,’ Henry said as though we might have done something worthy for once.
‘Okay,’ Nick announced. ‘And launching in three, two… We have ground clearance,’ he added as the drone flew up and we crowded into the side of the van to watch the screen on Reggie’s desk.
‘May I see?’ Henry asked as a path formed. He said thank you lots of times and got inside the van to hunker down on a case of water as the town came into view on the screen. The pastures and fields giving way to amenity land, allotments and gardens. Streets and roads started showing. Avenues and lanes. Rooftops. Shed tops. Greenhouses and back-garden swimming pools. Vehicles left on driveways. Some in the road. No motion. No movement. Nick flew the drone over the main road in and swept al
ong to the town centre. No motion. No movement.
‘Nick, go down please,’ Paula said, frowning at the screen. ‘Yep. Thought so. They’ve got an outdoors shop. We can stock up, and there’s a supermarket too.’
‘Fuck’s sake. I thought you saw something,’ I said.
‘I did,’ she said. ‘Okay, Nick. Bring it back.’
‘Roger that.’
‘Ten four,’ I said to a few strange glances. ‘I don’t even know what ten four means.’
‘It’s part of the universal ten codes,’ Henry explained. ‘Ten four is to acknowledge and say you understand, which means you were correct in your usage.’
I smiled at the reply as Marcy gave me a pitying look and patted me on the shoulder while Nick brought his drone back, and still refused to let anyone touch it, or go near it, or even look at it. Apart from Henry though. Henry could look at it.
‘She’s certainly a beauty, Nick,’ Henry said in his smart tan trousers and tucked in shirt and still smelling nice.
‘Thanks,’ Nick said, with obvious glee at the attention. ‘She’s got incredible range.’
‘I should imagine she does. And a payload capacity too. What’s the MGW?’
‘We haven’t tested it,’ Nick replied while I tried to work out what MGW meant and shared a look with Clarence, who shrugged as we both looked at Roy.
‘Maximum Gross Weight,’ he said as Marcy gave me another pitying look.
‘She carried a bag of cupcakes from the fort to Camber airstrip though. I’d say that was a kilo,’ Nick said. ‘But I think she could do more.’
‘Did the schematics give any indication?’ Henry asked.
‘Yeah, probably. But I can’t read the words in the boxes,’ Nick said with an embarrassed wince.
‘Are you dyslexic? I see. Well, let me say dyslexia is never a sign of low intellect. Far from it. Some of the most gifted people I worked with suffered from dyslexia. Tell you what. Perhaps we can do it later. Dig them out and find me. I’d be delighted to take a look.’
‘Yeah? Wow. Okay, great. Thanks, Mr Henry.’
‘It’s just Henry,’ Henry said as Nick beamed a smile and walked off. Henry went next, dropping lithely from the van with a nod at me and Clarence as he marched back to his air-conditioned vehicle.
‘Bless,’ Marcy said, staring at me and Clarence. ‘You’re like a pair of gay dads that just met the cool stepfather.’
‘What the fuck?’ I scoffed as Clarence adds his own hearty scoffing.
We got back into the hot tin can like a pair of gay dads and listened to Nick in the back telling his friends about the cool stepfather that’s going to read drone schematics to him later.
Engine on and we set off for the last mile into town.
‘Another one,’ Clarence said, pointing to a busted in gate as we drove through a long sweeping bend and met the ex-residents of the aforementioned field now baaing in the middle of the road. All fluffy and cute and chewing grass and hedges and berries and twigs or whatever sheep eat. ‘Road’s blocked,’ Clarence said. ‘By sheep,’ he added helpfully.
We cracked our doors open to step from the tin can into the oven and strolled out towards the sheep with the clearly held belief they’ll flee before our manliness and thereby open the carriageway.
Except they didn’t flee, or even blink, or do anything other than just kind of stand around chewing things and making noises while looking all white and fluffy. One of them did have a poo, and another one had a piss, but mostly they just chewed things and made sheep noises.
Clarence and I shared a look then turned at the same time to yell out. ‘NICK!’
‘What?’ he called, dropping out from the back.
‘You’re good with animals,’ I said.
‘When did I become good with animals?’
‘When did I become good with animals, Mr Howie!’ Dave said, also dropping out the back as everyone else also dropped out of the back to come forth in a gaggle that still had no effect on the sheep.
‘Go on then,’ Clarence said, looking at Nick.
‘What?’
‘Get rid of them,’ Clarence said.
‘Go away,’ Nick called out as everyone else looks from him to the sheep who remained quite happy and content. ‘What about Meredith? Sheep hate dogs. Get the dog. Where’s the dog?’
‘She’s licking that sheep,’ Tappy said as we all looked over to Meredith licking a sheep’s bum. The one that did the poo too. Dirty dog.
‘COME ON. TIME TO GO,’ Paula shouted with her organising voice which made everyone else want to run and flee, apart from the sheep. She even clapped her hands which sends shivers down our spines, but the sheep ignored her and remained in situ. All white and fluffy and cute with Meredith still licking bums.
‘What about Jess?’ Blowers asked.
‘You can’t do that to them,’ I said. ‘Poor things.’
‘We could kill one and eat it,’ Roy suggested.
‘What is it with you and killing animals?’ Paula asked.
‘Sorry, are you a vegetarian?’ Roy asked.
‘Well, no, but my meat comes from a packet. Not from a fluffy white coat. We don’t even know how to butcher them.’
‘I could butcher one,’ Henry said from behind, making us all turn to see him and his smooth and highly professional team being all smooth and highly professional.
‘You can butcher a sheep?’ I asked.
‘My uncle used to own a farm,’ he replied. ‘I’d go there for summers as a child.’
‘And solve mysteries with Dick and Jane?’ I asked.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘What?’
‘Dick and Jane?’
‘No idea,’ I said, wondering why I said that as I looked at the other gay dad who frowned at me while the sheep made sheep noises and chewed things. ‘Um, but I don’t think eating one will clear the road.’
‘Of course,’ Henry said, coming forward to join Clarence and I. ‘Sheep are funny creatures. Cute, but they’re not blessed with intelligence,’ he added before striding out to smack a sheep bottom. Not hard, but enough to make the sheep give a very sheep-like expression of what the fuck before it ran off, which in turn made all the other sheep go what the fuck and also run off. Which then increased as Henry waded in smacking more sheep bums like he’d spent a whole life doing it. ‘GO ON NOW!’ he cried out, all deep and manly as the sheep did more poos and legged it down the road. ‘Frank, you drive our vehicle and I’ll push them on,’ he said and sets off after them.
‘Why didn’t you do that?’ Clarence asked, glaring at Nick.
‘Yeah, Nick,’ I said. ‘You’re the animal guy.’
‘I’m not the animal guy!’
We got back into the hot tin can and listened to Nick in the back telling his friends he’s not the animal guy.
Engine on and we pulled way. Albeit slower this time, which was due to the sheep whisperer ahead of us solving the mystery of the missing flock with Dick and Jane.
Eventually the sheep got safely into some allotments and away from the bottom smacking senior spy and set about eating cabbages and home-grown cannabis plants. But Henry, instead of walking back to his own vehicle, hopped up onto the step next to my door and clung onto the frame with a manly nod to keep going. I give him a look then shared an eye roll with Clarence as we drive on into town.
‘Like a pair of gay dads,’ muttered a female voice behind us, making us both flick middle fingers.
A moment or two later, and after my wishes for a massed attack while Henry clung to the door went unheeded, we came to a stop. Engine off. Doors open and we dropped from the tin can into the oven once more.
‘Eyes up and fan out,’ Blowers ordered, slipping into his sergeant role.
I dropped down and grunted at the sticky heat as I looked about at another ubiquitous town centre that looked the exact same as every other town centre in the entire country.
Honestly.
How did people remember where they liv
ed? It’s all so samey and bloody boring. The parking bays. The road layouts. The churches and pubs. There’s always an old hotel too. Normally called The George. Or The Cask and Fuckstick. The Wet Twat or The Floppy Knob. But it always looks rundown. Like it’s on the verge of going under. Which it probably was due to the thieving shits that run the councils robbing the poor buggers half to death in fees and taxes before whacking in parking bays to make sure nobody could ever actually visit one of the shitty shops.
‘Wow. You are on one today,’ Marcy said, walking past me.
‘Stop reading my head thoughts!’
‘You were muttering,’ Paula said, also going by.
‘I wasn’t,’ I told anyone that wanted to listen. Which amounted to Dave and the other gay dad, seeing as everyone else was clustering about the new awesome stepfather.
‘I do love these towns,’ Henry said with a deep breath and his hands on his hips. ‘They’re all so unique, aren’t they? They each got a different vibe about them. As a child I would often travel through these places and I could just feel the character.’
‘Was that with Dick and Jane?’ I muttered as Paula and Marcy shot me some very stern glances.
‘Ah and look!’ Henry said, turning to stare at the local hotel. ‘The Royal George. I bet she served some fine ales.’
‘Are you a real ale man, Henry?’ Roy asked.
‘I am indeed. I spent many a happy Sunday with a dark ale and the papers next to a roaring fire in the local,’ he said as Roy promptly adopted him as a stepfather too. ‘Yes. Rural England at its finest. What about you, Howie? I can see you with an ale or two on a Sunday afternoon. That your bag is it?’
‘No. I normally watched internet porn. Anywho,’ I added into the weird silence that only comes when a joke falls flat. ‘Enough chitty chat. What say we gather our supplies eh chaps and chapessess?’ I asked, slipping into a strange jovial accent as the tumbleweed blew by and even Meredith stared at me in pity while in the distance some sheep get stoned and shit on the cabbages.
‘You alright, nipper?’ Frank asked with a frown. ‘Heat getting to you is it? Maybe he needs a lie down.’
‘He needs something,’ Paula said, clapping her hands. ‘Right. I’ll do the outdoor store first, then the chemist for cleaning kits and wipes. Blowers, can you organise the supermarket? We need water. And tinned food. And pasta. And don’t let Nick inside. There won’t be anything left. And don’t forget the tinned fruit. Actually, I’ll do it. You’ll just get fifty cans of ravioli.’