by Haywood, RR
‘Er, that way!’ I said, pointing vaguely east. ‘CHILDREN, MR HOWIE! IN GRAVE DANGER!’
‘Load up. GO!’ Howie ordered as he barged past Henry.
‘Howie!’ Henry said.
‘CHILDREN, MR HOWIE,’ I shouted over him. ‘Come on, team! We need to get there. That’s it. Attaboy! Sergeant Blowers. Come on, Booker. You too, Tappy!’
‘What children?’ Nick muttered, still peering into his screen. ‘Reggie, I can’t see any kids.’
‘Get your bloody eyes tested then,’ I said as the team ran from the department store.
‘What about him?’ Marcy asked, pointing at the infected.
‘Tell him to stay there!’ Howie yelled back. ‘We’ll come back later.’
‘Right. Er, sit!’ Marcy said as the infected plopped down on his backside. ‘And no biting anyone. Got it? Good boy.’
‘Howie!’ Henry yelled again.
‘CHILDREN!’ I shouted over him as I plucked the controller from a confused Nick and shoved him towards the Saxon. ‘Get in! Quickly now! Children are in peril.’
‘But my drone!’
‘We’ll collect it there. CHILDREN, NICHOLAS!’
‘You’re not the police, Howie!’ Henry yelled out as Howie and Clarence reached the front of the Saxon. ‘You might save a few kids but then what?’ Henry asked. ‘What about the rest of the world that needs the Panacea?’
Of course I bloody cursed under my breath because I could see the stubborn sod wasn’t giving up easily. I could see the hesitation in Howie and Clarence and Paula too. All of them pausing to look back. Everyone else doing the same.
‘You have to think, Howie,’ Henry said. ‘You’re not a strategist. None of you are. Stop getting sucked into small issues and let me do what I need to do.’
‘There are survivors in that town that need our help,’ I said firmly as Howie looked at me.
‘The whole world needs our help!’ Henry said.
Howie held still. Knowing within his heart that everything Henry just said was right. That they do keep getting sucked into petty dramas, and they had to break that cycle. They had to focus on the bigger picture.
But I also knew Howie would be thinking of something else because of the words I’d just used to trigger the images in his mind.
The little girl.
That day in the square.
The little girl who screamed for her mummy as the infected fell silent. As the whole place fell silent.
The little boy too. Early on. Howie told me he saw a little boy in teddy bear pyjamas on the second day. He was infected. Howie said the image haunts him.
I knew it was those things that drove Howie. The sense of hopelessness he and the rest of us felt. The sense of confusion and of being weak, and unable to stop it from happening.
‘Howie,’ Henry urged. ‘Please. See sense.’
Howie looked to Clarence, then over to Paula, and I could see all three were feeling the same torn conflict inside.
‘Okay,’ Howie finally said, nodding at Henry. ‘We’ll do it your way.’
‘Thank you,’ Henry said with a long sigh.
‘After this one,’ Howie added with a wink before diving into the Saxon and slamming the door.
‘HOWIE!’
‘I’d take that victory if I were you, Henry,’ Frank said from behind as Henry fell silent. Watching the lads bundle into the back of the Saxon.
I observed something else too. I observed the way Henry watched the lads and everyone else making ready. The way they were checking rifles over. Ejecting magazines to tap against the sides to rid any grit and prevent stoppages. Pistols being loaded. Rifles bolts being pulled back. The thrill in the air. The pulse of action.
The call to arms.
Henry was many things, but he was also a soldier. I saw him turn to watch Joan yanking the bolt back on her sniper rifle and how Carmen slung her rifle and checked her sidearm. Magazine out. Magazine in. Slide the top back. Loaded. Made ready.
I could see it in his eyes, and that was good, because it meant I could lure him into the game.
‘Boss?’ Carmen asked, and I saw Henry frown at her. I assumed it was because she’d called him boss, which was wording we used, which suggested our teams were already starting to merge. Then I saw the way she glanced to the Saxon almost in fear that it will go, and they’ll miss the action.
‘You wanted to see a control point,’ Frank said, pushing a magazine into his rifle to make ready. He tilted his head over. Not needing to say anything more.
‘Fine,’ Henry said, about turning as his small team rushed for their vehicle. ‘We get this done then we split with whoever we can take. My team, move out!’
I paused a second longer, smiling inwardly at the fact that not once did Henry even glance in my direction.
The ego of men and the belief that warriors rule this world.
They don’t of course.
We just let them think they do.
But anyway. It wasn’t over yet. Not by a long degree, and in many ways, the day was only just beginning.
27
Diary of Paula
And then literally five minutes after Howie totally called Henry out with his they didn’t want you in their club bombshell and we’re back in the vehicles.
Mind you. Reginald running in shouting kiddies, Mr Howie! Kiddies with barbie dolls was overegging it, but whatever, it did the trick and got that bad energy diverted.
It was all so fast too. It was just one thing after another and on days like that all you can do is hold on for dear life.
Not that it was over. Not by a long way, and at that point we all figured the day couldn’t get any harder after the morning we’d had.
How wrong were we.
The morning was the warm-up. After that was just - I don’t even know how to describe it. I still can’t quite process it. What we saw. What we did. How it all happened.
But anyway. We’d jumped into the Saxon. Howie was up front driving with Clarence next to him, and the vibe was bad. Like seriously bad.
‘Fuck just happened?’ Howie asked, looking over at Clarence.
‘Let’s focus on this,’ Clarence said, grabbing the radio. ‘Reggie, where are we going?’
‘We’re going east.’
‘East is a point on the compass. We need directions,’ Clarence snapped before twisting around to shout into the back. ‘And those sodding plants stink. Throw them out. We look like bloody idiots.’
‘Er. Some warning would be nice!’ Roy transmitted as a huge cannabis plant smacked into his windscreen.
‘Nick. What town?’ Clarence asked.
‘I don’t know.’
‘How can you not know?’ Clarence asked, twisting about to glare at him.
‘I couldn’t read the signs! I’m sorry.’
‘Jesus,’ Clarence said. ‘No wonder we look like a shower of shit. Reginald! Directions.’ (It’s worrying when Clarence swears. None of us like it.)
‘Ah yes. Of course. Get on The Street and aim for the A272.’
‘What street?’ Howie asked, shooting a look at Clarence.
‘Reggie. Confirm what street,’ Clarence transmitted.
‘The Street.’
‘What bloody street! Specify, Reginald.’
‘Chaps. Cutting in,’ Henry transmitted. ‘The road we are on is called The Street. It feeds onto the A272.’
Clarence grunted in pure frustration and gripped the handset so hard it started to creak. ‘Reginald? Confirm the last.’
‘Er, roger that! Wilco. Over and out,’ Reginald said.
‘The A272 runs to Petworth,’ Frank’s voice then cut in again. ‘Are we aiming for Petworth?’
‘Hello, Frank. Yes. Petworth it is,’ Reginald said.
‘Fuck me, Reggie!’ Howie said. ‘Why not just say that?’
‘Because we previously agreed not to use location names over the radio,’ Reginald said.
‘Excuse me for being pedantic,’ Roy cut in. ‘But
saying to stay on The Street then head onto the A272 does in fact give away our location and our destination, in which case stating the name wouldn’t make a difference.’
‘Roy, it’s Marcy. Can you maybe shut the fuck up cos Howie and Clarence are kinda frothing at the mouth right now.’
‘I was only explaining why saying Petworth doesn’t matter.’
‘Roy!’ Blowers shouted into the radio.
‘Do not shout at me, Simon!’
‘Everyone stop fucking shouting!’ I shouted as the Saxon powered on with a sudden application of thrust. Barrelling along the narrow road bordered by high hedges and a canopy of trees that dappled the sun on the windscreen behind which Howie and Clarence frothed at the mouth with wild eyes and knuckles turning white.
Allotments on the right. A row of houses on the left. A former bakery converted into a plush house and Howie built the speed. Steaming into corners and snapping overhanging branches as the wide vehicle went through.
Another corner ahead. Howie steered into it but clipped a stone wall. Tearing chunks of rubble out as Tappy grimaced. Clearly wanting to drive but not daring to speak out. Everyone else was the same. All of them silent and hanging on to anything they can reach.
A pub on the right. The Hollist Arms. The entrance barricaded. A man inside was running at the inner gate waving his arms in the air as he shouted for us to stop, but Howie didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He was too angry.
‘Fuck me,’ Marcy said when he clipped another wall. ‘Howie, slow down or let Tappy drive!’
‘I know how to fucking drive!’ Howie yelled, overcompensating to avoid another wall as everyone in the back leant one way then the next. ‘I bet Henry knows how to fucking drive. I bet I was right. I bet this is revenge for him.’
‘Focus on the mission,’ Clarence said.
‘I am focussed on the mission! I’ve been focussed since day one!’
‘Then focus on the road as well then!’ Clarence said.
‘Stop telling me to focus!’ Howie said, too furious to see the road properly and the junction ahead.
‘HOWIE!’ Marcy and I yelled from behind as Howie tried to anchor the brakes on. Then Clarence was yelling out and we’re all bracing as Howie drove over the junction and smashed through the hedge on the other side with everyone in the back yelping in alarm.
‘Bloody hell. Are you alright in there?’ Roy asked through the radio.
‘We’re fine!’ Howie shouted back while Marcy was leaning over the front seats swiping at his head.
‘I said to bloody slow down you idiot! Tappy. Take over driving.’
‘I said I’m fine!’ Howie said
‘You’re not bloody fine. You’re too angry. Let Tappy drive,’ Marcy shouted, leaning over the back of the seats to grab at the wheel at the same time as Clarence also leant over to help turn the wheel, which is also at the same time as Howie tried to turn it, all of which meant the Saxon swerved about the field. Spewing dust and crap up.
‘Hedge!’ I shouted on seeing another wall of green coming at us. Honestly. It was a bloody mess. And right after Howie had finally scored a big point against Henry. And bang, straight through the next hedge we went. Throwing up bloody twigs and branches and clouds of dust everywhere. To make it worse, the field was ploughed too, which meant we were bouncing about like tic-tacs inside.
‘Tappy! Get up front,’ I ordered while grabbing at her wrist to start pushing her forward. ‘Tappy’s taking over!’
‘How? I can’t bloody get there!’ Tappy said, trying to squeeze through.
‘You bloody idiots!’ Marcy yelled, now bent double over the seats, with her arse in the air from the motion of going through the hedge. ‘I’m stuck! Get me up.’ She groped about with a hand swiping at Howie’s head while I’m pushing Tappy at the seats while everyone else was getting thrown about.
‘I can’t get through!’ Tappy said.
‘I need to get out first,’ Marcy said.
‘I’m fine to drive!’ Howie yelled.
‘I said Tappy is taking over,’ I said from the back.
‘Marcy, get your arse out of my face,’ Clarence said.
‘Pull me up then!’
‘HEDGE!’ Tappy yelled as another wall of green came at us with a bang and a scrape as the Saxon slammed into a field full of sheep running off.
‘Quick! Get Henry and Dick and Jane,’ Howie said, which, to be fair, was very funny and helped break the tension a little, apart from Marcy though. She was seriously pissed off.
‘Wasn’t funny the first time you twat,’ Marcy yelled. ‘AND PULL ME OUT!’
‘I’m pulling,’ Clarence said, gripping her arm to heave while I carried on shoving Tappy over the seats with a mass of arms and legs and boobs and bums and sweaty yelling faces all colliding.
Maddox
And so we’re still on the road. Me in Roy’s van with Reggie and Henry’s SUV behind us, and we’re all watching the Saxon driving through hedges and over fields with clouds of dust going up. It was just nuts.
Why don’t they just stop? Roy asked, shaking his head while listening to the voices yelling from someone pressing their radio button down in the Saxon.
Carmen
And we’re right behind the van watching the Saxon driving in the fields after Howie overshot the junction.
‘Why don’t they just stop?’ Henry asked while shaking his head. But that wasn’t the crazy part. The worst thing was someone had a radio button pressed down in the Saxon, which meant we could hear every bloody word they were saying.
‘OUCH! That’s my tit!’
‘Get your foot out of my groin!’
‘Howie! Let Tappy drive!’
‘I’m bloody trying! Someone’s got a foot in my face.’
‘My poor boobs!’
‘TESTICLES!’
‘Why is the dog trying to get up here?!’
‘She always comes up front with me.’
‘Nick! Get your dog back.’
‘She’s not my dog!’
Maddox
I mean. I’ve been with them long enough to know how those things start, but hearing it from a distance was just weird.
Wow, Roy said. Do you know what? Maybe Henry has a point, he said while we shared a nod.
Henry does not have a point! Reginald said before grabbing his radio. CHILDREN, MR HOWIE!
Paula
Then bloody Reginald is still trying to whip Howie up and yelling through the radio, ‘Kiddies, Mr Howie! Kiddies with their barbie dolls!’
‘Tell him to stop bloody saying that!’ Marcy yelled amidst the mass of limbs and twisting hot bodies. I don’t know how but we got them disentangled enough for Tappy to get in over Howie and use her backside to push him out of the way and gain the seat of victory.
‘Got it!’ she shouted out, giving Howie another hip shove for good measure while Clarence, Marcy, Howie and the dog all squabbled and wrestled about next to her.
Not that Tappy seemed to care. She’d got her Saxon back and was jacking the seat up and sliding it forward as she cricked her neck and grinned like a demon. ‘Hold on to yer britches bitches!’ she yelled. ‘She’s gonna get wild.’
‘What does that mean?’ Marcy asked, risking a peek between Howie’s legs as the Saxon seems to settle for a second before speeding up with a vicious punch of thrust.
‘SHIT!’ Howie yelled. The G force sending him and Marcy over the seats into me, then all of us three into everyone else in the back. Leaving only Clarence and the dog left to argue over the front seat.
‘OW! She bloody nipped me,’ Clarence said, feeling teeth on his bum.
‘It’s all those biscuits!’ Charlie called from somewhere.
‘Gateway drug!’ Marcy said.
Carmen
And they still had the radio button pressed, so we’re listening to every word and honestly? It sounded terrible. Really terrible. But then Tappy got the driver’s seat and the Saxon just seemed to settle for a second before shooting of
f. It was being handled differently too. Less skittish and holding her own course while building power to where the last few feet of hedgerow meets a solid brick wall that marked the edge of the fields.
‘She’s never,’ Henry said.
Maddox
Roy and me we’re staring at the wall and that tiny last bit of hedge and we’re both thinking the same.
She can’t, I said.
She wont, Roy said.
Charlotte
‘I bloody will!’ Tappy said, winking at the dog now in the front passenger seat with Clarence sliding into the back while rubbing his sore bottom – and a second later Tappy drives at the last few feet of hedge.
I rather think the rest of us were bracing for a collision, because I wouldn’t have driven at it. There was no way we could fit through. We were going to hit the wall. It was so obvious.
But we didn’t. We didn’t even touch the wall and then a second later we’re bouncing back onto the road ahead of the van and the SUV.
‘Fuck yes!’ Tappy called with a whoop. ‘The Saxon on the blacktop speeding through the backdrop. Boom!’
‘See! I said she should bloody drive!’ Marcy said amidst the chaos in the back of the Saxon.
‘Fine. Well obviously, I’m useless then,’ Howie muttered, squishing a hand over Cookey’s face as he tried to get up.
‘Shnor not ushless bosh,’ Cookey said, mid face-squish. ‘But can I have my face back?’
‘Er, sorry to ask. But why didn’t we just pull over and swap?’ I asked.
‘Shut up, Charlie,’ Marcy said. ‘Go and snog Tappy again.’
‘I was snogging the dog!’
‘What?’ Cookey asked, still mid face-squish.
‘It’s not like you’re interested,’ I muttered to myself while offering him a sarcastic smile. Not that Cookey noticed due to the boss still squishing his face while Marcy rubbed her sore boobs and Clarence rubbed his sore bottom.
‘We’re almost there!’ Tappy then called from the front. ‘What’s the plan?’