SAFE HAVEN: RISE OF THE RAMS

by Christopher Artinian

  “Well, if you need me, sweetie, I’m just going to be next door. Try and get some sleep and then we’ll check this place out tomorrow, see if it’s as good as Joseph hoped.” Lucy stood and, in another motherly gesture, kissed Samantha on the forehead before leaving the room. She passed her own bedroom door and moved on to the next, where she tapped gently on the white painted wood.

  There was a pause and she could hear shuffling before a voice said, “Come in.”

  Lucy entered to see Tracey, half wrapped in a towel. “Hi, I was just freshening up,” she said, almost guiltily.

  “Don’t let me stop you, I was just making sure you were okay before I turned in for the night,” Lucy said, not even entering the room.

  “It’s funny. My dad used to go mad at me for wasting hot water. I’d leave the shower running for about ten minutes before I even stepped in.” She let out a small chuckle in recollection. “He used to go, ‘I’m not the Sultan of bleeding Brunei y’know. Wait until you’ve got your own place, you’ll understand then.’ It was true, I never valued it. My dad was brought up in the East End. The family was poor. There were times when they didn’t have hot running water or heating, and I suppose it’s only when you’ve done without it that you realise what a luxury it actually is. When I was locked up in that garage I thought I’d never feel hot water running through my hair or over my face again. I’ve got a small sink in the bathroom that I’ve filled with boiling water using a plastic bucket. Twelve months ago, that would have felt like living in squalor. Now, it feels like the lap of luxury. I don’t think I’ll ever take anything for granted again. I realise how lucky I am to be here, Lucy, and I want to thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetie, but it’s not me you need to thank.”

  “Yes it is. It was both of you. You both played an equal part in getting us here, so thank you,” she said again.

  Lucy gently closed the door before returning to her room. She unzipped her holdall, pulled out a change of underwear and a T-shirt, then moved into the en-suite bathroom and tugged on the light switch. An extractor fan whirred into action and the small room lit up. Lucy unbuttoned her shirt and removed her bra, then took off her jeans and pants and looked into the mirror over the small sink. She had dark rings beneath her eyes and her face and neck were grimy with the day’s travel. Her blonde hair seemed to have become a shade darker with the accumulation of road dirt and dusty air, and even her blue eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle. She poured the bucket of hot water into the sink and looked back up at the mirror. A river of tears began to run down her cheeks, clearing a salty path through the grime. “If you’re up there somewhere looking down on us, Mike... We miss you, sweetie... I miss you.” The words stalled as they left her mouth and gave way to sobs. Lucy reached for the plastic pill bottle, turned off the light, sat down on the floor, hugged her knees and cried hopelessly into the night.

  *

  It was slow going. Mike didn’t know how long he had been working, but it seemed like an age and he’d only managed to get one brick loose so far. What was more, he was sure the torch was beginning to dim. He turned it off, hoping he could work by touch and save precious battery life, but working blindly would take him twice as long. Then it dawned on him. He had never been subtle in his approach to doing anything, so why try to over-think now? He needed light, so what better way than to smash a hole in the roof? He picked up his hatchet, balanced carefully on the boards to give himself a comfortable swinging action and then began to hack away. Chips of wood flew in all directions. Within a minute, he could see the red tile of the roof. Another minute passed and two tiles had been dislodged, revealing the dusky sky. He demolished a hole close to a metre in length before deciding it was enough. The torch would be needed to provide valuable light when he got through to the other side, and he’d already established that working in the dark was not a sensible course of action, so he took his rucksack and carefully climbed back to the wide island of chipboard. He took a drink from his bottle. There was very little left. He zipped his coat up, put the rucksack underneath his head and, with the growling, bumping, shuffling sounds below to keep him company, he drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The following morning Lucy did the rounds, making sure her friends were okay. Emma, Sammy and Jake had already been up for several hours and the two youngsters were still in denial, making the grieving harder for their older sister. The emptiness of loss dissipates a little when it’s shared and understood, but having to put on a facade while screaming in anguish inside made the process twice as painful. Emma was trying to be a good sister and not dash her siblings’ hopes, but it was hard. She and Mike had been through so much together and now it was down to her to fend for the family. She was grateful for Lucy’s visit, but she had no interest in looking around the village. She just wanted to stay in the hotel and catch snatches of depressed sleep when Sammy and Jake would allow.

  Lucy, Samantha and Tracey went down to have breakfast and Lucy made arrangements for some to be sent up to her friends.

  “I hope you were comfortable,” Jenny said, as the three women took seats at a table.

  They all nodded. “It’s a beautiful place you’ve got here.” Lucy had felt obliged to say something in addition.

  “Keith is coming round after breakfast to give you all the tour. I’d like to stop and chat, but our patient didn’t have such a good night’s sleep so I’m going to drop by and see her,” Jenny said, turning to leave.

  “Would you mind if I tagged along? I’d like to make sure she’s alright,” Lucy said, reminding herself that she had been a doctor before becoming a gun-toting action woman.

  “If you could pop in later and take a look, that would be terrific, but I know Keith’s pretty keen to show you around the place first,” Jenny replied, as a member of hotel staff appeared carrying plates filled with scrambled eggs, bacon and beans.

  All three pairs of eyes sparkled like decorations on a Christmas tree. Another member of staff appeared behind, bringing two six-slice toast racks with large doorsteps of browned bread in each.

  The three women began to pile food into their mouths hurriedly, stunned that they had been presented with such a bounty.

  “I could get used to this,” blurted Tracey, a few crumbs of toast falling from the side of her mouth as she did. “A nice room, hot water and a full cooked breakfast are a bit more than I anticipated.”

  “Make the most of it, kid, it won’t be like this forever,” Lucy responded, wiping tomato sauce away from her lips with a thick white serviette.

  *

  Mike awoke in pitch darkness. The unnerving growls and thuds continued downstairs, but they were now joined by another sound, something alien. It was the sound of someone shimmying along the joists. The hairs on the back of Mike’s neck bristled with terror as he had the overwhelming feeling that there was a presence in the loft with him. He stiffened as he heard the familiar low guttural growl of an infected beast. It wasn’t just close – it sounded like it was directly over him. He reached for the torch and swiftly flicked the switch. The demonic grey face of a RAM hung over his with its mouth open. A thick globule of saliva slowly oozed from one corner. The cavernous pupils were unaffected by the dim beam of light and there was a look of pure malevolence on its face as it slowly began to move towards Mike’s neck. He was frozen, completely paralysed by fear, until a violent lurch made him spit blood and the beast’s incisors ripped deeply into his jugular vein. Mike’s whole body convulsed at the realisation that he was about to die and be reborn as one of the creatures he despised so much.

  “AAAARRGGGHHHHH!” The loud scream jerked Mike awake and excited the ranks of bloodthirsty beasts below. His whole body was drenched in sweat and he slowly tried to regulate his breathing. It was just a nightmare, a trick of his mind.

  “Fuck me!”

  The sun was gradually making its way higher into the s
ky, and there was enough light for him to begin his work. He took his last few mouthfuls of water, rubbed his stomach in an attempt to pacify the increasingly angry growls of hunger and carefully walked across a few beams to urinate before climbing back into position to begin his work. To his delight he found that now a single brick had been removed, the others came away with greater ease. He could only guess at the time by the position of the sun in the sky, but Mike was confident that he could make a hole big enough to climb through before the afternoon. He took off his T-shirt and tied it around his nose and mouth so that the cement and brick dust would not exacerbate his thirst. Then he launched back into the job at hand. Chisel, strike, chisel, strike, chisel, strike, clear and then repeat.

  *

  “My wife used to use this minibus for guided tours for the guests, and as you’re guests of the hotel, it seems fitting that you should be getting one now.” Keith smiled as he looked in the rear-view mirror towards the three women, who were greedily taking in the sights around them.

  They left the village and drove towards the bridge they had crossed the previous day. The soldiers on guard gave Keith a short but respectful nod as the minibus came to a standstill. He pulled on the handbrake and turned in his seat to speak to his passengers. “Now, I’ll show you everything on a map when we get back, but Candleton is in rather a unique position that makes it easily defendable compared to most locations. The village is effectively a small island surrounded by the fast-running waters of the same river... well, a river and a large tributary if we want to split hairs. There’s a bridge on this side and one on the other side. We have two sets of gun turrets at both bridges, manned twenty-four seven in rotating shifts. There are thirty soldiers in total and we’re also training our own group of reservists. On top of all that, we have lookouts at the most easterly and westerly points of the village and, finally, the young corporal’s pride and joy, a pair of Jackal 2 armoured vehicles.” He broke out into a proud smile as he finished reeling off the inventory.

  “I don’t understand how you managed to secure such a large military presence?” Lucy asked, a little confused by the scale of protection for such a small village.

  “Well, things had been getting worse for a while. Groups of conscripts were forming their own militias and gangs, taking over barracks and, in some cases, whole towns. Of course, we weren’t privy to this information, but we got a full briefing when Corporal Masters – Darren – arrived. Apparently this had been going on for weeks, but the state news broadcasts and communications blackouts had prevented word of it spreading. The government saw what was happening and decided the defence of the capital was the priority. When the orders were received to head to London, the conscripts at Darren’s barracks revolted and took over. A real bloodbath ensued. With a few like-minded troops, he managed to escape with a ton of equipment and ammunition. He realised that the key was to find a suitable base, turn it into a fortress and wait to see if the chain of command re-established itself. Being a local lad, he knew the unique geography of Candleton would make it the ideal place to defend. They got here a few days ago. We had already made fortifications of our own, but the arrival of a small army of well-trained men has turned this village into what I’m convinced is one of the safest places in the country.”

  “It’s impressive, Keith. What’s going to happen when the food runs out, though?” Lucy asked.

  “I’m glad you asked that,” Keith responded, starting the engine of the minibus once again. “To be honest, until you showed up yesterday with your two truckloads of supplies, we were a bit worried. Although there are a couple of fields this side of the river, the majority of the farmland is on the other side. We may be able to get a small harvest from it under armed guard this year, but it will be dangerous. If it’s not the bandits, it’s the RAMs that we’d have to worry about.” He stopped speaking while he executed a three-point turn in the road.

  “You call them RAMs too?” Samantha asked, surprised by the use of the terminology.

  “Well, yes, I’m afraid some of the soldier’s vernacular has been rubbing off on me.” He smiled, making eye contact with her in the mirror. He finished the manoeuvre and moved off again. “Anyway, as I was saying, we were concerned we were going to run short of food, but you’ve given us that one little leg up that we needed. Feast your eyes on the Candleton ‘Dig for Victory’ campaign,” Keith said, as he turned the minibus onto a long residential street.

  All the front gardens were a hive of activity. People were digging, planting, wheeling barrows, erecting small poly-tunnels – and not just adults, but children as well.

  “We’re doing this with every free bit of land in the village. Behind the hotel we’re keeping hens and goats. Unfortunately, all the other livestock was requisitioned by the government when the UK was first locked down. We’ve got two fishing teams: one working the north part of the river, one the south, and we’ve even turned a few cellars into mushroom farms. Obviously, the crops will take a while to grow, but now we’ve got a stopgap...” He parked the car in the middle of the street and waved to a few of the diligent gardeners.

  “I’m astounded. It looks like you’ve got everything you need right here,” Lucy said.

  “Well, not quite. We could really do with a doctor and nurse. Do you know any?” he said, turning around in his seat and smiling.

  *

  Mike removed the final brick and shone the torch through to the other loft. It was completely boarded and he could even see a loft ladder. He pushed his rucksack through and lowered it to the other side, then climbed into the neighbouring property. Although still present, the noise from the horde of milling RAMs became more muted. He quietly tiptoed across the loft to the hatch. He couldn’t hear any activity directly below, but it didn’t mean the house was empty. He put his rucksack down and slowly released the catch, allowing the hatch and ladder to open and lower. He carefully extended the aluminium steps rung by rung until they reached the carpeted landing, then he popped his head through and swiftly surveyed the area. The bathroom door was open and a terrible smell emanated from within. He re-shouldered his rucksack and climbed down, making his first job the closing of the door. Mike looked into each of the bedrooms and saw that the beds were neatly made and the rooms were tidy. He walked downstairs and straight into the kitchen at the back of the house. On the counter there was a flyer saying “Skelton emergency meeting, 7pm Tuesday”. Mike wasn’t sure, but he thought today was Thursday. Had the occupants of the house gone to the meeting and never returned? He opened the fridge and saw a plate of beef, a half-open tin of luncheon meat and a tube of liver pate.

  “Yum,” he said sarcastically.

  In the salad crisper there were a few leaves of lettuce which were well past their prime. Most importantly, there was nothing to quench the insatiable thirst that he now had. He opened the freezer door, revealing a host of defrosted ready meals. There was an ice cube tray on the top shelf. Mike carefully pulled it out to reveal the melted water within. He gently set his lips around the corner of the white plastic tray and tilted it back. The room-temperature liquid glugged down his throat and he instantly felt more energised. He continued his search for food and found that the only thing in the sparse cupboards he could actually eat as a vegetarian was half a box of muesli. He chose not to. Eating it dry might help fill his stomach, but it would almost certainly make him thirsty again.

  If nothing else, at least he was out of the loft and his thirst had been quenched for the time being. Now, he needed to figure out how to get to Candleton. He knew it was north, but it would be foolhardy to simply head north in the hope of happening across it. Mike needed a map. A local newsagent would probably sell maps of the area, but better still would be the local library. They were bound to have detailed Ordnance Survey maps, and with one of those, Mike could go cross country and avoid the roads. He looked out into the back garden. There was high panel fencing on all sides, but he could see what looke
d like an old abandoned mill at the back of the house. He hoped the RAMs would stay near the built-up residential areas rather than the deserted industrial ones. Going in any direction blind was a risk, but this was probably the best option. He carefully opened the door and walked along the fence, crouching a little as he went, giving himself maximum cover from the sight lines of the predators next door. Mike reached the bottom of the garden and vaulted over the wooden slats of the fence, crouching into a roll as he landed on the concrete below.

  The street was empty. He jogged down the hill, withdrawing his weapons ready for any confrontation. He came to the junction where the side street met the main street and he peeked around the corner. He could see a couple of hundred metres up the road towards the war memorial. There were a few of the creatures scattered around, wandering aimlessly, but none of them caught sight of him. He looked the other way and saw two RAMs heading in the opposite direction. Beyond them were a number of small brown public street signs. Mike didn’t want to risk going back the way he had come just in case one of the mass of RAMs from the house had spotted him and was in the process of hunting him down. The only other option was to try to head along the street, ducking and weaving to avoid being seen. Hopefully one of those signs would at least give him an idea as to where he might find the library.

  *

  “Okay, sweetie, everything seems to be fine. These little guys are getting ready to come out, but not right this minute,” Lucy said to the young woman, who was overjoyed that there was a qualified doctor dealing with her pregnancy.

  Samantha helped the woman back into a sitting position and poured her a glass of water.

  “Y’know, I was scared to death about giving birth, but having you two here has really put my mind at ease. Thank you.”

  Lucy and Samantha smiled. For the first time in a long time, things felt right. This was their chosen vocation; this was what brought them happiness, what brought their lives meaning. “Well, it’s a pleasure, hon. Now you get some rest and we’ll be back to check on you later.”