“Well so far we have just discussed taking the same as today - two Landies with three people in each. Each Land Rover will have a trailer. Everybody will have a Browning and an SA80.”
Wood now leant forwards, the candlelight picking out his dark, steady eyes. “Excuse me for asking, but exactly why are you not taking one of the Bedfords?”
“Ahh, good question,” Lewis said with a mild look of triumph which made Straddling scowl even more. “Initially the Station Commander thought that the Land Rovers were more manoeuvrable which could be handy out there. Also he thinks that the lorries need to be ready at all times in case the security of the station is breached and we have to make a quick getaway from Headley Court. Denny wants us to leave them at the MT section, fuelled and fully operational for immediate use.”
“If you don’t mind my saying that seems a little short-sighted,” Wood said. “The Station Commander isn’t the one going off base so he is hardly in a position to make such a call.”
Straddling raised his eyebrows and sniffed but Wood ignored him and continued.
“By not using them you necessitate going out on many more missions pointlessly. Personally I wouldn’t thank you for that. And yes, I can see that manoeuvrability would be a big bonus out there, but with the trailers attached to the Landies are they really much more manoeuvrable? Might I make a suggestion?” He did not wait for permission but continued regardless. “Would it not be better to take the Land Rovers without trailers, in support of a Bedford? That way you increase their manoeuvrability and also the amount of supplies you can bring back, hence reducing the number of times men are exposed to danger. Take as many people as you can reasonably fit in the vehicles to give you the maximum defence. Go out there, get as much of absolutely everything that you can in one hit, then come back, lock the gates and dig in.”
Lewis smiled and rubbed his chin. “Well, yes, I do kind of agree with you and I was just saying something along those lines actually. We have lost too many men and I think it may be time to reconsider our procedures. Okay, we’ll plan on taking one of the lorries.” He cast a challenging glance over at Straddling and Hutchison who both nodded.
“And can I suggest four men in each Landy, at least two up front in the Bedford and a few more, say three or four, in the back?” Wood continued. “It will help with loading supplies, it will be much easier to move any vehicles blocking our path and it will mean more pairs of eyes and guns for when you really need them.”
“A total of thirteen or fourteen men?” Lewis replied. “That doesn’t leave many to guard the base and it means putting more people at risk.”
Wood nodded, his eyes not leaving those of Lewis, ignoring the other two sergeants who sat quietly without interrupting. “I think the base will be just fine as it is. It’s those on the outside that I would be more concerned about. The risk will be less for all and at least there is a greater prospect of everyone coming back alive that way. We’re all in this together. Why should just a few people face an unreasonably high probability of death when the gates are opened. I’d suggest you share that risk and increase the likelihood of success for everybody.”
Lewis contemplated for a few seconds and then nodded. “Okay.” The advantages were obvious and he kicked himself for not having implemented these measures before. Despite Wood’s blunt attitude Lewis found himself warming to the man.
Wood had not finished yet though. “And I’d like to come on this trip. My back’s fine now, I won’t be a hindrance.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. Definitely. I might be rather useful to you out there.” His gaze was again unflinching and unyielding. “I’ve acquired various ‘skills’ in my time in the forces that might just come in handy.”
CHAPTER 12
As he waited by the main gates for all the troops to assemble, Lewis stared out at the road stretching away before him. There was a row of large trees lining the street on either side. The branches had fairly recently been chopped right back leaving nothing more than stumps in order to prevent them from becoming too large and overgrowing the road. There had been absolutely no leaves remaining, no small branches or twigs, just the main branches looking like twisted skeletons. Nevertheless new shoots were already springing forth with buds and leaves. He found it incredible that despite such a severe cleaving the trees still thrived, still bore the evidence of new growth, such incredible tenacity to cling to life. He was caught in personal reflection, steeling himself for the day, wondering what to expect and what trials would test their own determination to survive when a voice intruded on his thoughts.
“Can I ask you something sir?” Private Darby from the MT section stood at his elbow.
“Hmmm,” Lewis barely acknowledged him, still looking at the outside world beyond the security of the gates.
“Just that some of the lads have been talking about Armageddon, sir. This being the ‘End of Days’ or something like that. Do you believe that sir? Do you think this is God’s will?”
“No,” he answered distractedly in reply, but the silence from Darby jolted him into realising that something more was required from him and he turned to face his corporal. “No Darby, I do not think this is divine retribution or ‘God’s will’, or anything like that. This is a man-made problem, this is nothing more than science gone mad and the solution is going to have to be man-made as well.”
“So you don’t think we’re being punished here on earth, that god is wiping us all out just to start afresh? You don’t think that it doesn’t matter what we do, we’re all going to die anyway?”
Lewis practically snorted in derision but controlled himself. “No Darby. I do not. There is nothing Apocalyptic about this, it’s just an extremely unfortunate series of events. Every day when we go out there we face peril but ultimately our fate is down to us, how careful and professional we are, how we act as a cohesive force and whether we make any mistakes. Any one of us might die but my aim is to try and bring us all home safely. Even you Darby, as long as you don’t continue asking such daft questions. Okay?”
“Ah fab, thank you sir.” Darby looked relieved, giving the impression that he thought he had just been awarded a personal guarantee of safety. He wandered away, kicking at a piece of gravel with his hands thrust into his trouser pockets and whistling quietly to himself, as though the conversation had been casual, about the weather or the Saturday football or something. Lewis watched him go and smiled to himself; the boy was a marvel, he really seemed unperturbed by events, which was potentially a good attitude to adopt but only if he did not take it too far. Or perhaps he was just not really appreciating the gravity of the situation, which was a more worrying state of mind. As he watched Darby, his attention was piqued by Straddling, who was nearby, hunched in conversation with Hutchison and Newman, an army corporal from the medical section. There was something about the way they spoke in muted tones with occasional furtive glances cast in his direction that worried him, and he wished he could hear what was being discussed.
“But that’s treason,” Newman said, aghast. “What you’re suggesting is mutiny.”
“No it’s not,” Straddling retorted angrily. “The structure of the military no longer exists. There’s nothing but us left now, so by rights, military rule no longer holds any sway over us. Before, we were part of one big institution. We had to toe the line otherwise it would all descend into chaos and otherwise we’d be punished. Now though that’s all gone. We’re already living in the midst of chaos. All that remains for us is to survive.”
“So what’s your point?” Hutchison asked somewhat warily.
“Just, that we no longer have to follow orders. Our main aim now is to stay alive. So if someone gives us an order that we think compromises that prerogative, we don’t have to obey. It’s as simple as that.”
Corporal Newman was now nodding in agreement but Hutchison still looked doubtful. “I don’t know. I don’t feel good about that.”
“Look, I’m not saying we actively d
isobey. That would only lead to anarchy and endanger us all. All I’m saying is that if we’re told to do something that places us in mortal danger then we no longer have to do it. Ultimately it’s every man for himself, survival of the fittest, and all that. It’s a dog-eat-dog world right now and I don’t intend to let any of these damn festering mutts nibble on my behind.”
Lewis sat in the front of the first Land Rover beside Darby who was an adept driver and had seemed relatively unruffled by his two missions off base so far. Lewis wanted to spread the experience and training amongst the three vehicles as much as possible. Behind him and with all eyes trained unwaveringly on the surrounding roads and countryside were Corporal May Williams from the medical section and Wood.
Lewis watched the base receding into the distance then turned to Darby. “Keep it nice and easy, we’re in no rush. Anything you don’t like, please speak up, and better to keep the car moving, albeit slowly, than come to a complete stop.”
“Yessir. No problemo.” Darby’s concentration never left the road as he stared ahead with his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
Lewis tried to hide his smirk. Much of the time he acted the fool but that may have just been a reflection of his youth. Put him behind the wheel of a car and his attitude changed; he clearly loved driving and took it seriously. Sometimes.
Lewis now turned to the soldiers behind him. “You two okay?”
It was the first trip off-base for both of them. Williams sat looking terrified and hardly noticed Lewis’s question until he nudged her.
“Oh, err, yes, I’m okay sir, really.” She did not sound convincing though.
“Look just relax. There are loads of us out today so we should all be quite safe if we engage any hostiles. Keep your wits about you and keep that weapon pointing somewhere else.” He gently put his hand on her Browning which was aimed upwards and lowered it away from them all. There were not enough SA80s on base to be given to everyone, so they had been shared out appropriately and Williams only had a revolver.
Wood had not been thought to be medically fit enough to venture out on earlier missions so this was his first excursion. He now sat quietly attentive, soaking it all in. He had a pistol at his side and held one of the rifles.
“I’m fine,” was his blunt reply. He seemed to be a man of few words.
Lewis smiled despite himself and felt strangely bolstered by the other’s company. Wood was not the most outwardly charismatic of individuals but seemed to exude confidence and ability, and that was exactly what Lewis needed right now; someone who was competent, able to handle the pressure and did not cause unnecessary complications – unlike others in the party. He wondered again why Denny had not come out to see them off; in his opinion that was a significant error of judgement and perhaps indicated his commanding officer’s relentless decline under stress.
When Lewis had mentioned to Denny about the change in plans and their intention to take the lorry and more troops out on patrol, Denny had acted as though he had been in favour of it all along. “Well absolutely, of course you should. That seems to be the obvious thing to do,” he had replied in a vaguely patronising tone which had made Lewis bridle somewhat, as it had most definitely been the initial orders of the Station Commander not to take the Bedfords. Lewis had refrained from pointing this fact out but instead accepted the decision in good grace, breathing a sigh of relief that the request had been granted without further argument. He had made a mental note to himself to take important decisions alone without consulting his commanding officer in future. It was easier that way. The military chain of command seemed to be breaking down. He would now have to assume a lot more responsibility and consider himself to be in overall command. He was aware that was not the ‘military way’ but in these uncertain times they had to adopt new practices.
Increasingly he was trying to avoid confrontation with Denny and not to put further pressure on him as his actions seemed to be getting more and more erratic. Even at the late hour when Lewis had turned in for the night he noticed that there was still the dim glow of candle light coming from under the closed door to Denny’s office. He had half expected Denny to surprise them all and come with them on this mission. He had fully expected Denny to come to the gates at the very least for a final briefing and morale-boosting words of wisdom, but there was no sign of him, just as there had been no sign of him at breakfast.
As Lewis had left the dining hall that morning he had bumped into Singleton and Handley.
“Please check up on Denny and keep an eye on him,” Lewis asked them. “I think he’s starting to lose it.”
Handley nodded on behalf of both doctors. “I’ll go and find him right now and make sure he’s okay.” He turned sharply on his heel and strode away.
Singleton paused in indecision and appeared to Lewis to be decidedly awkward about something. He was about to walk away himself but delayed a moment.
She finally seemed to make up her mind. “Look, we’ve lost too many good people already,” she said quickly. “Please don’t take any chances out there. We don’t want to lose you too.”
Lewis smiled inwardly but for once demonstrated some composure and restrained the big grin that threatened to break loose. “Of course. I’ll be as careful as I can and make sure I bring them all back safely.”
As he started to walk away he paused and turned to her. “And thanks, you know, for caring and all that.”
“Sure,” she smiled briefly. “Well, the base needs you, that’s all.”
The second Land Rover was driven by Corporal Kevin Berthon who had been an army patient at the station for just over three months. Like so many of the patients going through Headley Court in recent years he had been injured in Iraq. He had sustained a back injury from an explosive blast and had been unable to walk for several weeks. He had also received some minor flesh injuries, had needed small skin-grafts and had lost one finger off his left hand. Before the state of emergency had been declared he was showing good progress and had been walking, albeit with the aid of a walking stick, and since then he had improved somewhat. It was far from ideal to take injured people out on patrol but the numbers of able-bodied troops had fallen in recent days, and if they were to take such a large contingent out then they had to improvise somewhat. His back would probably ache after a day in the driver’s seat but he would not be expected to get out of the vehicle and that would release another more mobile soldier to perform other duties on the patrol. In addition, Corporal Berthon was an experienced soldier and would be unlikely to be phased, any more than anyone else, by the horrors beyond the gates of Headley Court. Sat in the front with Berthon was Straddling and in the rear were Millington and Newman. Newman had not been out on any patrols either, although he too had combat experience.
The Bedford was driven by Walkden as it was thought this would be an easier role for him than actively engaging in fighting. He was supported by Hutchison and in the rear of the truck were Sergeant Vallage with Leading Aircraftmen Neale and Scovell, all from the catering section of the base, and Charlotte Collins.
As before, whilst they drove they used the loud speaker announcing their presence to any possible survivors, although it had been agreed that they would cease this well before arriving at their destination. The only signs of life, at least at first, were some birds that pecked at rubbish scattered all over the pavements and a few stray dogs that seemed to have formed a pack. The dogs had already lost their groomed, household air, and had taken on the appearance of a more feral troop of mangy strays. One or two of them limped, had obvious sores and injuries, and they all looked very hungry.
It was an overcast day and as they left the base it started to drizzle with the wind spraying the sides of the vehicles. Just outside Bishop’s Stortford they saw the first infected, two old ladies standing approximately fifty metres away down a side road. They each wore similar jumper and skirt outfits although both were dirty and one had torn the skirt right across her bottom, revealing a large amount of fle
sh. Had the troops been closer they would have been able to see the open scabs that ran all across her upper legs. The two ladies seemed to be fighting over something. They were pulling at an unidentified object and screaming at each other incomprehensibly.
The small convoy did not stop and the women either did not hear them or paid them no attention. As they drove on, the tussle turned more aggressive with one of the women attacking the other and striking at her head, before a third appeared on the scene. Wood had kept his rifle trained on them throughout, but as the distance between the convoy and the women increased he relaxed and lowered the weapon. Williams had whimpered and hid her eyes at first but took a deep breath and forced herself to look.
“They seem to group together,” she murmured. “Why?”
Wood just shrugged, but he wore a puzzled frown as well.
“It seems to me,” Lewis mused from the front, “that the condition or infection or whatever it is that they have got, is not so dissimilar to the dementia it was supposed to cure. I mean we call them zombies, septics, or lurchers, but in actual fact they are just humans who have forgotten how to behave and are acting on basic instincts.”
“I’ll remind you of that sir next time you’re up close and personal to one of them,” Wood replied, leaving a thoughtful hush in the car, but despite what he said, Lewis’s words had got him thinking.
Their first destination was the weapon shop in Stansted Mountfitchet that they had intended to go to on the previous outing. In order to get there they had to drive around the periphery of Bishop’s Stortford and then along a country road, the B1383. Every once in a while their passage was prevented by abandoned vehicles. Each time the Bedford was able to shunt it out of the way without too much of a problem. It left them all stationary and feeling exposed, but did not cause any further problems.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 1): Once Bitten, Twice Die Page 25