Corporal Collins arrived beside Bannister and gave him another fright as he had not heard her quiet tread either.
“Strewth, you scared the beejezus out of me.” He smiled at her and mockingly stood to attention for a moment with a comedic salute.
“At ease soldier. How are you doing?”
He grinned and flushed a little. “Fine here thanks,” then he looked down and noticed the two plates of food she carried. “You’re too kind. Are we having a romantic meal together?”
“For our captives I’m afraid. You’ll get yours when you’re relieved from guard duty and before we get briefed for our patrol in the morning.”
“Ahh, so I have the pleasure of your company this time do I? A lovely drive for two in the countryside?”
“Make that for four,” she said, ignoring his clumsy attempts at flirtation. “I’m bringing Cujo and we’ve also got Freddie Samuels along for the ride.” It was hoped her dog Cujo could be of use in detecting the infected and in adding extra protection for the soldiers. Senior Aircraftman Freddie Samuels worked in the medical branch but had frontline experience. As the medical centre needed fresh supplies Lewis had considered it would be a good idea to send him along.
“How are they?” She inclined her head in the direction of the locked rooms.
“They’re fine. Singleton’s in with Pethard now. If you leave me the food I’ll make sure they get it.”
“Hey no probs, I thought I’d pay Sergeant Wood a quick visit anyway whilst I’m here, I mean I guess he’s probably pretty bored by now.”
Collins noticed Bannister’s grin faded a little and a small furrow formed above his eyebrows. “Well actually I was told no one was allowed in, in case they’ve turned nuts, so I’ll get the food to them. Don’t worry I won’t eat it.”
She spoke then in a louder voice. “Sergeant Wood, are you okay in there? Have you gone nuts yet?”
“Hi Charlotte,” he answered immediately. “Hmmm, I don’t think so, though I am going a little stir-crazy with boredom.”
“He sounds okay to me, don’t you think?” she said to Bannister, flashing a smile at him, hoping to win him over. “Come on, just let me pop my head in and say hi, I’ll only be a minute, then we can both go and get briefed before exploring the big, bad world together tomorrow. If he gives me any trouble I’ll call you for help.”
He thought for a moment and then nodded curtly. “Well okay, but make it quick.”
She heard the door lock behind her, then crossed the room to where Wood sat and handed him the plate. He stood up for her and pulled her chair out again as he had at breakfast and she tried to suppress a smile. His politeness was endearing but was also tinged with a little stiff formality, a subtle aloofness that seemed in keeping with his distancing himself. She wondered if that distance would keep everyone at arm’s length.
“Thank you very much, I’m starving.”
“Well you’ll have to be, in order to enjoy that,” she pointed with disgust at the amorphous brown rice dish that slopped over his plate and he smiled thinly as he regarded it with apprehension.
“Strewth, this is gonna take some forcing down.” They both grinned.
They sat on chairs by the bed chatting whilst he ate. She already knew that he had been in the Parachute Regiment. After distinguishing himself over a number of years he had been selected for a tour of duty in ‘1 PARA’, the Special Forces unit, where he had excelled. He had arrived at Headley Court with a whole range of scars and injuries that looked like he must have been in a bomb blast, although he seemed reluctant to discuss it. Each of them had been there for over a month but their rehabilitation regimes had not coincided and she did not know all that much about him. There was an instant spark of friendship or attraction, or something. Their previous conversations had been relatively light and mostly passing banter and gentle, good-natured flirting although he had always appeared more reserved than men were usually in her presence.
Remembering the earlier occurrence he lowered his fork and looked at her with genuine concern, placing a hand on hers. “How are you? I mean, after this morning…”
She tried to smile but it was not very convincing. “I’m okay, thanks for asking. And you?”
“Yeah I’m fine. I know I’m in here in case I have been contaminated by Abbott’s blood but I’m not ill, I’m absolutely normal. Poor Pethard though, and Abbott and all of them.”
“I know. Words can’t do it justice. That really is horrific.”
They were quiet for a moment, both staring at the floor, plunged into their own personal abyss of grief until Collins took a deep breath and shook herself, as though to purify the unpleasant thoughts. The mood on base was depressed enough as it was. Nobody liked to dwell on the horror and killings. Everything was all so very unpleasant at the moment anyway and like most of the others she tried to continue life without thinking about depressing matters where possible, to concentrate on easier, less disturbing things than the terrors of the outside world. She looked up at his face again and wondered, not for the first time, how he had got a scar that ran from just below his right cheekbone as far as his mouth. He had a handsome face, she thought, very symmetrical with deep, brown eyes that were alert and engaging but ever vigilant and rarely smiling. His cheek bones were pronounced, his hair was cut very short and his body seemed taught and disciplined beneath his uniform through years of training. She always had the impression that he sat on the side-lines watching; watching her, watching everybody around him, always watching and quietly thoughtful.
“How about you,” she asked. “Have you lost a ‘significant other’ in all this mess?”
“Me? Nah,” he shook his head ruefully. “I was engaged a while back to a girl called Mina, but I think she liked the idea of the army and the uniform more than the reality. My job meant I was away a lot and I guess I was a little detached when I was at home. I didn’t pay her enough attention and I think I probably neglected her a bit. So she saw the light and got out while she could. Can’t say I blame her.”
“Ah well, her loss, I’m sure,” Collins smiled warmly and Wood felt a slight flutter in his stomach, a welcome yet unusual feeling, besieged on all sides as it was by all the misery and hopelessness. He banished the thought immediately, feeling guilty for harbouring a pleasant sensation in such difficult times.
“And you? Do you have anybody significant out there?”
“But of course, the love of my life.” She grinned again and he tried to return her smile but felt a small pang of disappointment. He attempted not to look crestfallen and did not know if he had succeeded or if his face had momentarily betrayed him.
She let her smile linger a moment before continuing, teasing him. Ordinarily she would not have been so flirtatious, but these days when nobody knew how long they had to live, it gave them all a very different attitude to life. “Cujo, of course. Who could want for anyone better?”
Wood laughed, perhaps a little too hard and stopped himself short. The disappointment was instantly swamped by a surge of relief. “But of course, faithful and fearless. What more does a girl need?”
“Well that’s a good start but I also want someone who is aesthetically pleasing, and let’s face it, he is.” And he was. A beautiful Alsatian with gleaming, groomed fur and a proud, alert demeanour. “Not only that but he does what I say, hangs on my every word and comes at the sound of my voice. Perfect.” She giggled and he laughed again, although he was not sure whether she had intended the innuendo or not. She was enjoying playing with him, for a brief moment transported away from the morning’s brutality.
“How could a man possibly compete with that? I may as well just give up now,” he joked.
“Well that would be a shame,” she held his glance for a second and again he did not know if she was flirting or just talking in general terms. Before he had a chance to find out she stood up smoothing her trousers down, beamed at him and turned to leave.
“Think I’d better go before old Bannister star
ts shouting at me. I’ve got to go for a briefing now as I’m out on patrol tomorrow morning,” she gulped in mock terror, although she did feel fearful about going, a very justified emotion.
“Well you take care; it’s bloody dangerous out there. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, don’t do anything stupid and don’t talk to any strange men, okay?”
“You bet. Don’t worry about me; I’ll have Cujo to defend me. And you get well soon and don’t go crazy on me.”
He really was struggling to decipher her meaning throughout the conversation and was unsure again whether she was saying not to become infected and lose his mind, or not to fall head over heels for her. He assumed the former although he hoped the latter. It was safer and easier that way and less presumptuous.
“That’s a deal.”
He stood as she turned to leave and not for the first time admired her physique. Just as the door opened she looked back briefly and flashed him a beautiful smile once more. She had full lips and white, even teeth and it really was a dazzling smile. She was a pretty girl, just naturally very eye-catching without having to make too much effort, with stylishly short, glossy black hair, attractively angular features and endearing blue eyes. Her character was particularly bubbly and engaging and the entire package was very desirable indeed. He could see Bannister scowling at him from without; there was clearly no love lost there, then the door closed and he was left alone in the silence, in a spin, with new inner tumult of a pleasant nature for once, to distract him.
CHAPTER 9
The Land Rovers always felt a little unwieldy with a trailer attached, as though they too were reluctant to leave the station. Bannister cursed as he tried to slam it into first gear but there was the grinding sound of an unhappy gearbox which would not cooperate under such treatment.
“Hey, slow down soldier, a little less brute force,” Collins said, putting a warm hand on his and gently easing the gear lever forwards. “As with so many things in life; softly, softly, catchee monkey.”
“Yeah I guess that’s just me all over honey, just raw, brute force.” He gave an animal growl. She rolled her eyes wearily at his relentless efforts at flirting but could not conceal the smirk in spite of herself. To Collins he was a stereotypical Scouser - lots of cheeky banter and potentially a nice guy if only he was not constantly trying it on. Spurred on by the slight encouragement, he growled again and clawed at the air in front of her.
“Okay there tiger, pipe down. You’ll make Cujo jealous and believe me, you wouldn’t want that.”
She raised her hand and Cujo, sat beside Senior Aircraftman Samuels in the rear of the vehicle, instantly licked her fingers. This was Cujo’s first time outside the station as well as hers. She was decidedly nervous and hoped her dog had not been affected by her mood. Too many people had already been killed while outside the security of the station, either due to poor preparation or a relaxing of established procedures. She did not want to add to that number. Whilst the measures for operations had been refined since then, it was still a mission fraught with very real dangers. However, she knew how important it was to locate supplies and other possible survivors, and accepted that everyone had to bear the burden of risk with these forays. For all of his bluff and innuendo Bannister was experienced in combat and she trusted him to keep them safe. She also had a reasonable amount of frontline experience, as did Samuels and they all understood what was expected of them. Bannister had been off base several times now, Samuels had been off twice and both were at ease but alert.
“Unusual name that, ‘Cujo’. Where did you get it from?” Bannister asked, turning to gaze into her eyes.
“It’s from a Stephen King novel. It’s about a dog that gets rabies, goes mad and kills loads of people.”
“Cute and oh, how apt,” Bannister snorted. He was glad to get the opportunity to chat to her and relieved that they were not dwelling on the death of Abbott or Emma Pethard. There were enough morbid thoughts these days and sometimes it was just nice to forget about them and discuss more mundane issues.
“Yeah, I guess so,” she replied. “If I’d known how life was going to pan out and he was due to be my protector and saviour in this crazy world I’d have called him something else, like Lassie, only Lassie was a girl, obviously.”
“Or Rebel, the Alsatian in ‘Champion the Wonder Horse’ maybe,” Bannister mused.
“Ahhh, now you’re showing your age. Anyway, that’s where the name comes from and he isn’t going to go berserk and attack anyone, least of all me, are you my angel?” She turned and stroked Cujo between the ears.
“So who’s your favourite TV dog?”
She paused before replying, the realisation brought home to her the poignant fact that she would never again watch television programmes.
“Hmmm, I think I’d have to go with Bouncer. You know, from the children’s programme Blue Peter?”
“Yeah, of course I know Bouncer and a good choice, but not as good as Shep, also from Blue Peter.”
“Yeah? Why Shep?” she asked.
“Well he was much smarter for starters, being a Border Collie an’ all. They’re the most intelligent dogs in the world.”
“No way. More intelligent than my Cujo?” Cujo was awarded another loving stroke and licked his lips in time with the wag of his tail, unaware that his intelligence was being called into question.
“Apparently so. I read that a Border Collie is about as intelligent as a two-year-old child, something to do with the amount of words they understand, the tasks they can perform, that kinda thing.”
“Well Cujo’s a lot smarter than that. He’s clever enough to realise that it’s best for him to do exactly what I tell him without question - or else. You try and teach a two-year-old kid that.”
The second Land Rover was driven by Sergeant Hutchison from the MT section, a RAF soldier with nearly as many years of experience as Straddling. He was an uneventful looking man of medium height and average build with the kind of face that one had almost been expecting. He had short brown hair framing personable features and sunken eyes that turned down at the edges slightly, giving him a permanently apologetic appearance. He was an experienced and level-headed soldier but was fairly quiet and happy to blend into the background. Beside him was Walkden on his second mission off-base and in the back was Leading Aircraftman Neale on his first foray. Walkden was the senior officer on the excursion; on his first trip he had been accompanied by Captain Lewis and it had gone smoothly. Although now he was technically in command, in reality he was out of his comfort zone and felt extremely glad for the experience of Hutchison and Bannister in particular.
They drew up to the guardroom where Millington loitered, his SA80 assault rifle slung casually over his thick shoulder. He stood in front of the vehicles, a reassuringly solid structure, and Collins thought it was just a shame that he was not due to go with them on this excursion.
“Last chance ladies,” Millington drawled. “Check your weapons ‘n walkies,”
Each vehicle was equipped with a fixed Bowman C4I Tactical Communication System, favoured by British military forces, and it was through these sets that they would keep in contact with base. They all had their own Personal Role Radio or PRR, which was a short distance UHF radio. The range of these was only approximately five hundred meters but often considerably less, depending on the surroundings. They went through the well-rehearsed procedure and gave a thumbs-up.
“Be careful out there, call in every hour and don’t forget the new body-search procedures when you return,” Millington rumbled with a smile. “Now y’all be good and don’t make me have to come and rescue you.”
“Stick the kettle on amigo, we’ll be back in time for tea and medals,” Bannister called out.
Millington flashed him a big grin and moved aside, unlocking the gates. As they passed he looked up at the sky with a frown. It had been a promising start to the day and he only wore a light, khaki shirt but it was turning threatening now and he shivered.
Le
aving the security of the station behind gave Collins a flush of nerves and she felt vulnerable. Her palms were sweating and she gripped her SA80 tightly to her side as she tried to calm herself. For all of her worries though there was an enormous sense of morbid curiosity and she scanned the surroundings as much through fascination as fear.
The initial stretch was just one long, straight road. It was relatively pleasant and rural and did not look very different from how it must have been for the last few decades, although none of them were able to appreciate it on this occasion. Soon they passed a cemetery, its white tombstones catching the sun like sharp, jagged teeth. The normal solemnity of the graves seemed to be lost, given that the dead now literally littered the streets.
Collins turned to Bannister. “I never really understand one thing about cemeteries.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, once a grave has been used I presume it won’t become empty again so the cemetery just fills up more and more. People have been dying every day since man first walked the earth. How is it that there aren’t more graveyards and they’re not all filled to capacity? I mean the world should surely be just one big, overflowing burial ground.”
The instant she said it she regretted it. It was an idle thought she had had some time before but not particularly appropriate for these days. The unintended meaning of her comment was not wasted on any of them but Bannister was enjoying her company and happily continued the conversation.
“Well I don’t know much about that, but there is one thing that always confuses me. In films you often see people attending a funeral but I can’t think of one where there is a cremation. Given that approximately ninety percent of people who die actually get cremated instead of buried, don’t you find that’s a little unrealistic?”
She thought about it for a moment with a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what, you’re right. You’re just a constant source of fascinating information.”
The Blood of the Infected (Book 1): Once Bitten, Twice Die Page 16