by Robin Crumby
“Captain Armstrong? Perhaps there’s been some misunderstanding then,” one of them mumbled, unsure what to do.
Liz glared at the two boys in uniform. “I suggest you get that corporal of yours to come back in the morning. He knows where to find us.”
“Come on, Ben, we’re wasting our time.” The larger of the two shrugged, noticing Will eye-balling him. “We’ll come back at first light.”
“You do that. We’ll be waiting,” said Riley, shivering so much she could barely speak.
****
Back at the hotel, news had spread fast. Everyone was already up, and an early breakfast had been laid out for the new arrivals.
Riley spotted Scottie brooding by the front entrance. She nudged Liz who led the girls inside to find them a change of clothes. Scottie casually handed her his cup of coffee, but in place of his usual smile was a furrowed concern.
“We thought you weren’t coming back,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve been gone for days. Where have you been?”
Riley took a deep breath and explained what had happened with Adele’s extended stay in hospital, collecting Heather from Ventnor, not to mention the attack at St Mary’s and the outbreak at the quarantine camp.
“If we hadn’t left when we did, I’m not sure we would have got back here at all.”
“There’s been some trouble with the locals. The soldiers refused to do anything.”
“I know, Scottie. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I made a promise to Zed. I had no choice, okay?”
“We always have a choice.”
“Look, can we talk about this another time? We’ve got bigger issues to discuss. I’ve asked Liz to gather everyone together in the hall in twenty minutes. We don’t have long.”
****
The dining room fell silent as Riley climbed onto a table to address the room. After speaking with Scottie and Will, she had quickly changed into dry clothes and towel-dried her hair. She was still shaking from the adrenaline and the cold, she couldn’t tell which, massaging her arms and hands to get blood circulating back to her extremities.
Scottie and Will took up positions below her, arms crossed, body language muted as if they hadn’t yet made their minds up about what she had proposed.
Riley looked around the room at the expectant faces, searching for Sam and Tommy but not finding them. While they were waiting for the last few to arrive, she bent lower as Scottie explained what had happened.
“I told them not to go.” Scottie shrugged. “But Sam wouldn’t listen. Ask Will, he was the one who went with them.”
“Why, Will?” she berated, turning her attention to the South African. “Why go back? Have you forgotten what happened last time we went there looking for you? It didn’t turn out so well—”
“When we found out what the hospital group had done to Jack, we couldn’t let it go. We had to do something. Sam wanted to go on his own, but we wouldn’t let him. I agreed to take them.”
“So where are they now?”
“Briggs knew we were coming. There were too many of them. I’m sorry. I was the only one who got away.”
“We’ll talk about this later. Not now.”
She shook her head, too tired to be angry. If King and Briggs had captured them, then they were probably already dead. There was no helping them now. She had the safety of the remaining group to worry about.
“Is everyone else unaccounted for?”
“Everyone’s here if you don’t count Zed.”
“Did you track him down?” asked Will.
“We kept missing each other. He went back to Porton in search of answers, but other than that, I don’t know.”
“Who’s the new girl?”
“You didn’t hear? That’s Zed’s daughter.”
“You’re kidding!” Will laughed incredulously, the pitch of his voice higher than usual, looking Heather up and down.
“It’s not something I’d lie about.” Heather smiled, to the amusement of those around her. “If you’d met my dad, you’d understand.”
“Met him? I’ve had to live with the bugger these last few years. Most of us owe him our lives, in one way or another.”
Heather seemed dubious but took the statement at face value.
“That’s the last of them!” shouted Liz, escorting the last of their group into the dining hall. “We’re all here.”
Scottie put his fingers to his lips and wolf-whistled for quiet.
“Now, listen up!” shouted Riley, struggling to make herself heard. “Thanks for coming at this early hour. As you know, we’ve just returned from St Mary’s. I wanted you all to hear what’s really happening east of here. The soldiers aren’t telling the whole truth. There’s been a fresh outbreak. There could be thousands of people heading our way.”
Scottie had to silence the room again.
“We all know from previous experience what happens. We can’t let that happen again here.”
“They told us the island was safe.”
“I know, but we can’t stay here. Whatever we do to secure this site, we can’t stop the virus.”
“We’ve only just got here. Where would we go? The soldiers won’t let us leave Freshwater. The whole island is on lockdown.”
“Back to Hurst. We know we can defend ourselves there.”
The room fell silent as they digested Riley’s proposal.
“Flynn’s hardly going to welcome us back.”
“His men are gone. We just sailed past the castle. There was no one there.”
“What if you’re wrong? That’s a big risk,” shouted a voice from the back.
“Anyway, they say soldiers are shooting people just for trying to leave,” said another.
“We’re all worked our butts off to get this place ready and now you want to give all that up? No, this is crazy,” challenged Liz.
“Listen, the allies are dealing with much bigger problems right now,” said Riley.
“What about Carter?”
“Look, I’ll talk to him,” she said, checking her watch. “He should be here any time. He’ll listen to me.”
“How are we going to get there? We can’t all fit in your wee dinghy.” Scottie laughed at the thought.
“What about the Nipper?” suggested Will. “Sam left her on a river mooring in Yarmouth. With any luck, she should still be there.”
“You really think we can just waltz back to Hurst and pick up where we left off?” said Nathan, shaking his head.
There was a knock at the door, and Corporal Carter appeared, flanked by the two soldiers from earlier.
“Can I speak to you in private a minute?” he said tersely, holding the door open.
Riley nodded and followed them into the reception area.
“May I remind you that the quarantine measures exist for our protection? They’re not just petty rules that anyone can choose to ignore. You could have infected every person here, without your knowledge. You do realise that?”
At the sound of raised voices, Will and Scottie came out to join them.
“Everything all right, Riley?”
The soldiers squared off silently against the new arrivals, gripping their weapons a little tighter.
“How on earth did you convince these two muppets to disobey a direct order? They were meant to bring you back.”
“Sorry, Carter, I didn’t have much choice. I told them I was working for Captain Armstrong.”
“And they believed you? I’m disappointed, Private Field,” spat Carter, dressing down the more experienced of the two men.
Turning back to Riley, Carter’s stance seemed to soften a little. “Is it as bad as they say?”
“Worse.”
“But we’re in no immediate danger out here?” he said, intending it as a statement rather than a question.
“With respect, no one can protect us from what’s heading this way.”
“Then why come back here? Why not stay in St Mary’s?”
“I’m not staying. W
e’re sitting ducks here. We plan to head back to Hurst. We’ll have a better chance there. We know we can defend the castle.”
“And you expect me to just turn a blind eye? Ignore my orders?” Carter blew out his cheeks and ran a hand through his hair. “The way things are going, I don’t know how much longer we’ll be here either. They’re pulling back to secure the strong points at Southampton and Portsmouth. Flynn’s team pulled out weeks ago from the castle. The allies are in full retreat on the mainland. You’d be on your own. Hurst will be exposed. No one will be there to protect you.”
“I know, but we’ve done it before. We know what we’re asking.”
“Look, until someone tells me otherwise, my orders are to protect the western approaches to the Solent. Having your lot at Hurst Castle might actually be a good thing. Another set of eyes and ears. Since Flynn left, the Battery has picked up double the work.”
“We’d help in any way we can. Before Flynn arrived, we kept watch, mounted patrols. We could bring you food and supplies, if you like.”
“Look, I’m not going to try and stop you, if that’s what you’re really asking, but I do have some conditions.”
“Sure. Anything, within reason.” She smiled.
“There’s another group I know would kill for this site. It’s one of the best on the island. If your team does a proper handover and you leave everything in good working order, beds, furniture, tools, everything, then…” His voice trailed off. “I’d need a few of your people to stay behind for a couple of days till it’s all sorted.”
“That’s fine. We’re planning to send an advanced party over to the castle as soon as we can, find out the lay of the land and what needs doing. Do you know if anyone is still living there?”
“I doubt it, but it wouldn’t take long for word to get around, especially if the soldiers left anything behind.”
“There’s one more thing,” she ventured, pushing her luck. I don’t suppose you could spare us a couple of shotguns? Just in case.”
Chapter Forty-seven
Zed had made up his mind: he couldn’t stay at St Mary’s while the people he cared most about were in danger.
He barged into the colonel’s office without knocking, interrupting a conversation with a military aide.
“Why don’t we finish this later?” suggested the colonel, noticing Zed’s impatience. He waited for the staff officer to collect his papers and leave the room.
“If you’ve come to apologise about earlier—”
“I’m leaving,” snapped Zed. “I have to get back to Freshwater. The virus could be there any day now.”
“Of course. I understand your concern. If my family were still alive, I’d want to be with them too.” He nodded thoughtfully. “But let’s say I did allow you to go back there, what would you actually do?”
Zed hesitated, unsure how to answer the question.
“If you really want to help them, you’ll stay here and finish what you’ve started.”
“But I keep telling you, I’m getting nowhere. I’m slowing Doctor Hardy’s team down. They’ll close ranks at the first suggestion of blame.”
“What did you expect? Your line of questioning puts them on the defensive. You’ve repeatedly suggested Porton shoulders some of the blame.”
“It’s going to take more than a bunch of second-hand rumours and conspiracy theories to convince them to play ball. You know full well that the evidence I’ve gathered so far is at best circumstantial.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got this far, haven’t you? In time, more pieces of the puzzle will fall into place. You’ll find them, I know you will.”
“Doctor Hardy is still the block. No one can force him to talk.”
“You said yourself, the longer he spends away from Major Donnelly, the more co-operative he’ll become. Even in the last few days, he’s softened his stance. In a few more weeks, who knows what he’ll volunteer? Trust me, I’ve been involved in enough interrogations of foreign agents and terrorist suspects to know that a little kindness goes a long way.”
“Perhaps.”
“You have to admit, you two would make a formidable team. His scientific knowledge and your investigative skills. In my experience, there’s nothing like creative conflict.”
Zed looked at his shoes, reluctant to admit that the colonel was right. What difference could he make if he was at Freshwater with Riley? His best chance of saving them was right here. It was a stark choice, but in the end, logic would win the day.
“If I agree to stay, I need your assurances that the soldiers will protect Freshwater Hotel, whatever comes their way.”
“I’ll make the necessary arrangements. You have my word.”
“Four more weeks, then I’m out of here, whatever happens.”
“If you can get the doctor to talk, who knows, you could be home in two. Now, if we’re done,” he said, rising from his chair. “The captain wants us all back in the command centre for three o’clock.”
Zed followed the colonel through the dimly lit corridors that ran beneath the hospital. The largest storeroom had been cleared of boxes and redundant machinery to make room for a large boardroom table and chairs. Temporary lighting had been rigged up, casting long shadows across the highly polished surface, half-illuminating the faces of Captain Armstrong, the doctor, Lieutenant Peterson and the other senior members of the allied team.
In the centre of the table, a military radio transmitter had been set up, its digital fascia lit with a series of numbers and settings.
“What’s going on?” whispered Zed in the colonel’s ear.
“Remember the engineers we sent to the transmitter at Rowbridge? They think they’ve got everything working again.”
There was a crackle of static.
“Try that,” said a voice. “Any better? Do you read us, over?”
“Loud and clear, sergeant,” answered the captain, leaning closer to the set. “So, what seemed to be the problem?”
There was a short delay as the sergeant could be heard discussing with another senior engineer their collective response.
“There’s no question, captain. This was sabotage.”
“How can you be sure? Last time we spoke, you thought it was just a transformer burn-out.”
“Process of elimination, sir. When you’ve replaced everything you can think of, you start investigating the less likely causes. It took us a while, but eventually, we found it.”
“Found what?”
“Broadcast equipment that shouldn’t be here, sir.”
There were some puzzled expressions around the table.
“Broadcast what exactly? We’re not following you.”
“A signal powerful enough to drown out everything else for miles. Static, interference, white noise, whatever you want to call it.”
“Then how were we able to make and receive radio comms before now?”
“Nothing long-range has been working for months. Except for very local transmissions. Line of sight, point to point. It’s like a blanket smothering the whole region’s communications. Power outages probably didn’t help either.”
“And you say the transmitter is working now?” asked the captain.
“It appears to be, yes. We’re scanning all frequencies but not picking up any transmissions.”
“Understood. Stand by, sergeant.”
The captain muted the channel so no one outside the room could hear, and looked around the room. Everyone seemed as dumbstruck as Zed felt. So many questions crowded out his thoughts. Who could have done this and why?
“Do we have any idea why it has taken us this long to find out what was going on?” demanded the colonel. “I thought we looked into this ages ago.”
“This has the hallmarks of a sophisticated attack. Flynn reported something similar at Hurst. The rebels used police jamming equipment to disrupt communications and isolate the team there,” said the captain.
“This attack is on an altogether differ
ent scale.”
“My men checked the transmitter a few weeks ago when we restored power. We found nothing.” The captain shrugged.
The American remained silent, listening to their exchange.
“What’s the range of this thing?” asked the colonel.
“It covers the south coast of England, potentially hundreds of miles.”
“So we can use it to contact other groups?”
“The world is listening.”
“If people tried to contact us before, they would assume our silence meant everyone was dead.”
“Ever since we got here,” volunteered Peterson, “the Chester’s communication systems have been playing up.”
“What are your orders, sir? We’re standing by,” came the sergeant’s voice on the radio.
“Sir, we should put out a test message. See who else is out there.”
“Then we’re all agreed?” said the captain, his eyebrows raised, waiting for each of them to nod in turn. “Sergeant, I want you to open the line. Turn up the signal as much as possible.”
“Just give me a minute to make the connections.”
The captain dipped his head in deference towards the colonel. “Sir, as the ranking officer, it should be you who does this.”
The colonel nodded in agreement, thinking through what he wanted to say. “Of course. It would be my honour, gentlemen.” He raised his eyebrows at the heavy burden conveyed on him. It seemed beyond hope that the rest of the world was merely waiting passively for them to make contact.
Zed found his breaths becoming shorter. In his head, he imagined pockets of survivors just like theirs spread throughout Europe and beyond. Perhaps, like them, they were waiting, focused on their own survival.
“We’re all set here. Open channel in three, two, one…” The man’s voice trailed off, followed by a baseline static that filled the room.
The colonel leaned forward and cleared his throat, coughing into his sleeve, taking a deep breath. “This is Allied Commander Colonel Abrahams speaking to you from St Mary’s on the Isle of Wight in the United Kingdom. Calling all survivors of the Millennial Virus, do you read me, over?”