The Fall Series (Book 3): The Fence Walker

by Cross, Stephen

Chapter 21

  Like all good raids, it happened in the early morning. Before dawn, when the mind is lost in the maze of maybe-beens and never-woulds, when the body is sluggish and heavy, unready to react, barely able to process stimulus, never mind recruit the necessary neurons to formulate an effective response.

  And so Warren found himself - cloudy, especially so given his later years - as hands roughly grabbed him.

  He had awoken to the sounds of thumping feet, then shouts in the dark. First calling his name, then ordering him to stand, to get out of bed, to stand to attention. Other words like traitor found him in the dark; rebel, terrorist, amongst other unsavory slurs Warren preferred not to hear.

  The screams of his wife started next. Carla wasn’t really his wife; their ceremony had consisted of a few mumbled words with a ring liberated from a department store a few months after the Fall. He tried to grab her as the unknown and heavy hands pulled him out of bed. Others were holding her down, however.

  He landed heavily on the floor, pain jarring through his bones, making his dodgy hip explode in pain.

  “Arrgh, get your fucking hands off me,” Warren managed to shout as his brain began to fire. He pulled his arms this way and that, but was unable to break free from the two people holding him.

  “Warren!” shouted his wife.

  “Get your hands off her!” shouted Warren, directing his shouts at the figures leaning over Carla’s side of the bed.

  They dragged him out of the room.

  “What is this?” said Warren as he was marched out into the crawling dawn. Now, his mind was up to speed, fear settled. Powerlessness; there was nothing he could do against these men and their plans. “You can’t do this,” he said, knowing fine well they could.

  “You’re under arrest, pal,” said the man to his left, one of the young soldiers that had arrived with Dalby.

  A waiting black transit van sat in the road, its engine idling. The back doors were pulled open with a prehistoric screech and Warren was roughly pushed in the back. The doors slammed behind him.

  “Hold on,” said a voice in the dark.

  “What?”

  The engine roared, and Warren was flung against the floor. Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “I said hold on!”

  Warren recognized the voice. “Dean? That you?”

  “Warren? Bloody hell…”

  Other men were in the back of the van, cramped against the walls, holding onto whatever they could as the van shook from left to right. He recognized all the men; other Runners mainly. Some of the Fishers. All good people, friends of his.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  “They say we’re traitors,” said another voice he knew well. Charlie. “Told you to keep your mouth shut!”

  “Fat lot of good it did you, Charlie,” said Dean.

  The truck bounced over a speed bump. A unified cry as heads and limbs banged.

  “Where they taking us?” said Warren.

  “Fuck knows…” said Dean.

  They didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  The truck pulled to a stop. A collective thump of boots, the sound of weapons being cocked. Was this it, they were going to be shot? Warren realized with embarrassment that his rectum was in spasm. He’d rather be shot than shit himself… He managed to laugh.

  The door was pulled open.

  “Out!” yelled a soldier.

  “Move it! Move it! Move it!” yelled another, grabbing the nearest man to the door and pulling him out. He fell flat on his face in the dirt. Warren jumped out. They were at an area of the holiday camp he had never been. A dirt track led away from the sports hall to near the Fence, and the entrance to a substation. That was where they were being led.

  “Come on, move it you fuckers! Traitors, get in there!”

  A row of soldiers made sure they were guided into the substation. Down the concrete stairs, followed by shouts, the odd push, and spit, reminding Warren of his new status as traitorous scum. Eventually a door, they were pushed in.

  The door slammed behind them.

  Warren stood stunned, breathing heavily, his brain still having trouble comprehending what had happened. Had it been a dream? Was he still asleep? Just a blur of events remained in his mind.

  An arm was around his shoulder. It was Dean.

  “Come on, let’s sit you down fella.”

  Warren lowered himself to the floor. Dean sat down next to him. The room was bright and terrible; all concrete breeze blocks and exposed pipes and buzzing halogen lamps in the corners like sentinels. In addition to the eight men from the van were three other people in the room. A woman, a young boy, and Andy.

  “Andy?” said Warren. “What the fuck’s going on, pal?”

  “Revolution,” said Andy.

  Ellie reached over and embraced Dalby. She kissed him fully, on the lips. He pulled away and smiled. “That’s my girl,” he said.

  He opened the door to the chalet and nodded to the two men who stood guard. He turned back to Ellie. “What you cooked last night…”

  “The chili?”

  “Yeah, with those spices, it tasted good. More again tonight. If I’m back, of course.”

  “You should make the time,” she said.

  Dalby rested his hand on her shoulder. “That’s what I love about you, you don’t understand. The world is so simple for you.” He pecked her on the cheek and turned to his men. “Ok, let’s go.”

  Ellie didn’t watch him get into the jeep. She closed the door and listened to the hum of the engine rise and fall as Dalby made his way to Unity HQ. Or the sales unit, as it used to be, before all this.

  Satisfied that Dalby was gone, she went to their room in the luxury chalet - the biggest in Unity - and got dressed. She went outside and made her way to Amy’s chalet. She knocked on the door, the nerves in her stomach rising. She heard Eddy cry.

  The door opened. It was Terry.

  “Hey, how you doing, Ellie?”

  “You going out?”

  “Yeah, I’m on perimeter duty.”

  “Be careful,” said Ellie.

  “I will.” He flashed her a smile. “Eddy’s with Amy. See you later.”

  Amy sat on the couch, Nathan beside her, and Eddy on her knee. She looked up as Ellie came in. “Oh, hi Ellie.”

  Ellie held out her hands. “How’s my little man,” she said.

  “He’s just fine,” said Amy. “Looking forward to seeing his mum!”

  Ellie took him and cuddled him close. He started to cry.

  “Ssshhhh, it’s Mummy, little man, it’s Mummy,” she said in a sing-song voice, but still Eddy cried.

  “He likes to be held like this,” said Amy, motioning for her to hold Eddy on his back. “Seems to have taken to that recently.”

  “Ok,” said Ellie. She did as Amy said and within a few seconds, he stopped crying.

  “There we go,” said Amy. “You got it.”

  I got it, thought Ellie. I got it, how to hold my own fucking son.

  “So, how are you guys going? said Amy. “Let me get you a cuppa.”

  The sound of the crockery moving and kettles being turned on came from the kitchen. “Amazing with the electricity,” said Amy. “Just like life used to be,” she said with a laugh.

  Ellie settled down on the couch, staring at her child. His face was changing. He had walked two steps the other day, apparently. She had missed it. He had also said a few words. She had missed them too.

  “What’s the major got in store for us next?” said Amy, bringing over the drinks.

  “I’m not sure,” said Ellie, wishing she didn’t have to talk, that she could just sit here with Eddy.

  “Oh I get it,” said Amy, “I bet it’s all on the quiet, eh? The Major doesn’t want us to get excited. Must be nice being in on all his secrets though?”

  “It’s ok,” said Ellie.

  “I’ll bet it is. That big fancy chalet n’all. You must be wanting Eddy back soon?”

  Ellie fli
nched. She didn’t mean to, but she couldn’t help it. “No, I don’t think so. That’s if it’s ok with you? You don’t mind looking after him, do you?”

  “No, it’s fine,” said Amy. “Hey look, is everything ok? With you and the Major? I mean, we’ve been looking after Eddy for a few weeks now. Not that it bothers me, it’s great having him around, and great that I don’t have any duties. That was good of the Major, that. Just thought, you know, you would like Eddy to be with you?”

  She would, oh God, she would.

  “It’s fine,” said Ellie. “Just, the Major, he’s too busy to have a little one around. You know, he needs the sleep. It’s very important to him.”

  Amy seemed to consider this. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. He’s got the responsibility and all that. Must be hard for him.”

  “It is, really hard. Keeping everyone safe.” Keeping her safe, keeping Eddy safe.

  “Ok then, if you’re sure,” said Amy. “Just to let you know, me and Terry are happy either way. As I said, it’s great having the little fella around.”

  “Thanks, Amy,” said Ellie, rocking little Eddy in her arms.

  Harriet huddled close to Adam, her arms wrapped around his thin frame. They had been in this blank concrete room for how long? She didn’t know now. The lights always buzzing. The food barely enough to keep them alive. Adam’s bony shoulders and defined ribs were poking through his clothes. She was worried about him; his mood was somber, he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh. He cried in waves, and she hugged him tightly, trying to tell him it was going to be ok, but the words stuck in her throat; she didn’t believe it would be all right. Her own hope had evaporated once Dalby had kicked Sarah to death. Seeing Arthur die had been enough of a blow, but the callousness of Sarah’s murder had all but sapped the life force from her; she couldn’t bear to think of the effect it had on Adam, his young mind like a sponge, soaking in all the terrible things of the world.

  She suspected the news his Dad was alive and looking for him was the only thing keeping Adam going.

  It was with surprise then that Harriet felt her spirits lift with the arrival of the new prisoners. There were now eleven of them crowded in the small bunker room, its electric light glaring like a poisonous eye, 24 hours a day.

  “Mental torture, ain’t it," said the older man called Warren. Stout, with a worn face and likable, like a friendly village builder. “Same tactics were used in Guantanamo Bay.”

  “We’re not terrorists though are we?” said Charlie.

  “Depends on who you ask,” said Dean, quietly.

  “It’s all about point of view,” said Andy. “To the Major, we’re the worst of the worst. Here to kill him, ruin his reign.”

  “He must be off his fucking nut,” said Dean.

  “I would guess he is,” said Warren.

  Harriet had no idea what time it was. They had taken their watches and phones. There were no windows, and the halogens shone relentlessly. Sleep was a dizzy affair, spliced with bright electric nightmares.

  Warren leaned forward, lowered his voice. Harriet strained to hear.

  “Andy, you said revolution when we got in here. What’s that mean?”

  “You’re the fucking crazy ones,” said Charlie, his voice loud in contrast to Warren’s whisper. “Revolution? Best thing we do is sit the fuck tight.”

  Warren glared at Charlie.

  Andy said, “We’re not alone, we have help,” he motioned to Harriet.

  Suddenly, all eyes were on her. Eleven pairs of eyes with their tiny bright-light pupils staring at her. She didn’t know if she could answer, her throat was dry, and her nerves were shredded. Telling Andy had been hard, never mind a room full of newer strangers.

  “My Dad,” said a small voice from within her arms. It was Adam. He pushed against Harriet's arms and sat up. The eyes turned to the young boy. Harriet felt relieved, and at the same time, her heart warmed, just to see him speak.

  “My Dad’s out there,” said Adam. “He’s going to come and get us.”

  “Sorry, son,” said Charlie, “Don’t mean to make you feel bad, but one, your Dad, if he’s out in the Wilds, is probably dead, and second, even if he isn’t, how’s he going to save us? Who the fuck is he? Batman?”

  Harriet glared at Charlie. A skinny lad, barely out of his teens. The sort of angry face that used to crowd the cheap inner city clubs on a Friday night. She opened her mouth to tell him to shut the fuck up, but Adam spoke first.

  “My Dad is Sergeant Donald Allen. He isn’t dead, I know that because a woman who Dalby killed told me that he’s out there now. He’s followed me all the way here, and if he made it here, then he’s not going to give up, and he’s not going to die. He might save you too if you behave yourself.”

  “Fuck off," said Charlie, but his voice was empty of conviction. He dropped his head as the others in the room laughed.

  “Tell us about your Dad,” said Warren.

  “He’s been in the Wilds since the Fall. He was with Sarah, and another soldier. The woman got captured and brought here. She’s dead now. But the soldier got away. So now my Dad knows for sure that I’m here. He has an army with him. Other soldiers. He’s not going to let Dalby stop him.”

  Warren, Andy, Dean and some of the other men exchanged glances, nodded heads.

  Harriet found the words she needed to speak. “If Sergeant Allen is anything like his boy, Adam here, then we’ve got nothing to worry about. Have we?” Adam turned and smiled. The first she had seen in many days. It made her smile too. She hugged Adam tight.

  Ellie was on her way to supplies. The paths between the chalets were empty apart from soldiers from her man’s army.

  A young man in worn fatigues approached her.

  “Where’re you going?” he barked.

  “What?” said Ellie. She looked at him with distaste. She remembered his face; he used to work on repair detail, a mechanic in training, or something. Couldn’t even be twenty yet.

  “You heard!” he said, dropping the gun from his shoulder into his hands. Ellie instinctively took a few steps back.

  Another soldier arrived and placed a heavy hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Shut up,” he said in a low voice. He turned to Ellie. “Very sorry Ma’am, I don’t think Jason knows who you are.”

  Jason scrutinized Ellie for a second, then his face took on an aghast white. His eyes opened wide along with his mouth, emitting strange sounds, his brain not yet caught up. Eventually, he managed to spit out, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, sorry.” He dropped his gun. It clattered loudly in the empty street.

  Ellie walked on, ignoring the angry admonishments that rained on Jason from his older colleague.

  Five minutes later - without seeing another soul - she reached the supply hut. The old campsite shop. She opened the door and walked in. Something was missing. She looked above her to see that the bell had been removed from the doorway.

  The people were missing too. It used to be a bustling hive of collecting, trading, requests for the next supply runs.

  Her man, Dalby, had made this all more efficient. He had decided what people needed to survive and had organized a weekly delivery of the rations. “Stops all the mess and confusion,” he had said.

  Jean emerged from the back room. “Hello Ellie,” she said with a smile, her portly middle-aged face wearing it well. Her cheeks flushed with the effort of moving and talking. “Haven’t seen you for a while. I guess the Major sorts out all you need.”

  Ellie nodded. “Yes, he does. Most of it.”

  “Well, what brings you here then?” said Jean resting her hands on the counter.

  “I was wondering if I could put in a request for something.”

  “Course you can,” said Jean, reaching for her ledger book.

  “Erm, I was hoping that maybe we didn’t have to, you know, record it.”

  Jean paused. “Everything has to go in the ledger, Ellie, you know that. It the Major found out then…”

  “Then I wo
uld sort it out.”

  Jean looked uncertain; no that wasn’t right, it was something else. Scared. She looked frightened. “I don’t know Ellie… If you want something, special, then surely the Major could get it for you?”

  “It’s nothing bad, it’s… It’s just a present, for Eddy.”

  Jean’s face broke into a smile again. “Oh, how is the little boy? He back with you then? Is it a surprise then? For the Major too?”

  “That’s right,” said Ellie. “It’s a surprise for the Major and Eddy, a sort of welcome home thing.”

  Jean looked relieved. “Oh, in that case, I’m sure we can overlook the ledger. Anything for little Eddy. He’s such a joy. Reminds me of my little grandson.” Jean’s face took on a distant stare.

  “Ok, great, thanks, Jean. This really means a lot. The Major will be so pleased.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes, he will.”

  “Ok then… What is it we can get for little Eddy?”

  “Just a teddy bear. Anything you can find really. Doesn’t have to be anything special. Just something he can hug, and can think of his mummy. And the Major, of course.”

  “Oh, that’s kind.” Jean leaned forward and whispered, even though the supply shop was empty. “You leave it to me. Give me a few days.”

  Ellie took Jean’s hand. “Thank you, Jean. Really, thank you so much.”

  Ellie turned to leave, but Jean squeezed her hand. “Oh, by the way, I guess you know, but it’s all very exciting isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “You haven’t heard? The Major knows where that traitor is, Sgt Allen. He’s sent out a special squad to kill him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A hit team is out in the Wilds hunting him down as we speak. I’ll tell you, makes me feel a lot better knowing that he’s going to be taken care of. I mean, it’s good to know that someone is taking care of all of this now, keeping us safe. Like with that Jack, you must be glad he’s gone too, after what he did to you and Eddy,” Jean shook her head. “Trying to kill you both. Beating you for months. And then killing that lovely man in cold blood. Thank God for the Major, eh?”

  Ellie forced a smile. “Yes, Jean. Thank God for the major.”