Lindisfarne (Project Renova Book 2)

by Terry Tyler

  "Yes, but we don't live in those countries, do we?" Paul's looking at Richard like he's total scum. "Last time I heard, enticing a girl of under sixteen into sex was a criminal act!"

  "Laws laid down by a legal system that no longer exists," says Richard. He checks back with Marcus, who nods, and gestures that it's okay for him to carry on. "Let's deal with one aspect at a time. The 'drink and drug' accusation—well, who can honestly say they didn't experiment with drink and the odd illegal substance when they were Avery's age?" He looks around the room, waiting for everybody to agree with him. A few people go 'hmm', like they're trying to remember when they first got wasted. "I know I did! We must make our own, new laws, now."

  "Okay. I'll go first." Paul folds his arms. "Rule one: all perverts get chucked off the island, whether they're part of your inner-fucking-circle or not!"

  A few clap; most nod their heads.

  Marcus holds his hands up. "It's not that simple. These are testing times, and this particular community member's area of expertise will be of prime importance once the growing season starts. I believe he's apologised, and promised to keep away from Avery."

  Paul's gobsmacked. "So what you're saying is, it's okay for someone to abuse my daughter as long as they tell you where to plant a few spuds?" He turns to face the crowd. "Who says we go round to this pervert's house and send him packing, right now?"

  "I'm up for that," calls out Gareth, fist raised.

  "Me too!" shouts Ruby.

  "Death to the rapist!" shouts Nicole, but she and her crew are just larking about.

  Mum whispers in Dex's ear, and he goes to stand on the other side of Marcus, who looks more than happy for him to take the floor. The big prune.

  "Can we have some silence, please?" Something about the presence of Dex makes everyone shut up and listen. "Look, there's little to be gained by charging down to his house waving pitchforks. Of course Paul and Davina are justified in their demands for something to be done, but—"

  "Too bloody right we are!" Paul points at Mum, then at Laksha's parents. "How would you feel if it was your daughter? Or yours?"

  "—but we need to determine the best way to deal with the situation, calmly and rationally." Dex looks around at everyone. "Which is why we need a council of elected members, to make decisions on matters such as these. I agree, some form of action must be taken against Neil; it's simply not acceptable." A few people clap, and he turns to Marcus, who is now pretending to give a shit, folding his skinny arms and nodding his head.

  "When you first settled here," Dex goes on, "it was just you and a few friends, muddling through as best you could. Now it's grown, and the community's needs have changed; we've got, what, fifty people here?"

  "Nearly fifty-one." That's Suzanne.

  He smiles at her; if her remark has rattled him, he doesn't show it. "Fifty-one, yes, indeed. My point is that we're strangers who've been thrust together at relatively close quarters. We need a realistic blueprint for the world we're now living in." He looks around the room again. "Rules."

  Ozzy shouts out, "Oh man, not rules!" and a few people laugh, but more of them look at each other and nod.

  "Not rules for rules' sake," Dex says, smiling along with Ozzy. "But this is only the first of possible situations that might take more than one person to resolve." He turns to Marcus again. "It's not fair to expect you to make decisions that will have a far-reaching effect on the lives of people you scarcely know. It's too big a responsibility for one person." And back to all of us. "I propose a council of, say, eight people, who will meet regularly to discuss matters that affect us all. Including what should be done about Paul and Davina's concerns. Who's in favour?"

  Everyone, without exception, puts their hands up.

  "Good. Now, we need to decide who is going to be on this council. I suggest that anyone who is interested puts their name forward to either me or Marcus by six o'clock this evening. Then, we'll have another meeting in which all candidates' names are presented, and we vote. It's the only fair way of moving forward."

  "How about we get to vote for a new leader, too?" Paul shouts out. "Because the prat who's in charge at the moment ain't doing a very good job!"

  "Ought to be you, Dex," calls out Gareth.

  I think we can all see which way this is going.

  So Dex is now the leader of the community. It was a close thing; almost all Marcus's original friends, including Suzanne and Myra because they hate Dex, wanted Marcus to stay on.

  Suzanne stood up at the election meeting and said, "How can we trust a man who abandons his heavily pregnant partner? What does that say about his moral compass?"

  Dex stayed dead calm. He said, "Suzanne, with respect, my personal life is not under question here."

  She went bright red, folded her arms, and said, "You're no loss. Myra and I will make sure Naomi has everything she needs."

  He said, "Well, in that case, you have nothing to complain about, have you?" and moved on to another subject.

  Marcus, the sad retard, actually canvassed for votes, knocking on our doors and telling us what he could do for us. It was tragic.

  We've got a council now. The members are Marcus, Richard, Suzanne, Kara, Phil, Nicole, Steve and—wait for it—me! That was Nicole's idea. She's really nice, I've only talked to her a couple of times, but she said we needed the voice of one of the youngest in the community, too. Awesome! I was made up, especially as I hadn't even put my name forward.

  "Yes," said Phil, "but some say that the people most suited for government are those who least desire it." I know what he means (I think); Christian was well gutted that he wasn't chosen.

  I go to my first meeting, and we discuss what to do about Neil. We decide, six votes to two (Marcus and Richard) that he should be evicted. He gets twenty-four hours' notice, and Dex and Kara go to his house to 'oversee his departure'.

  I want to watch, so I sneak after Kara when she sets off. Unfortunately Dex catches me and sends me back, so I scoot off to the car park instead, where John's getting a car ready for him, stocking it with a full tank of petrol, a supply of food and water, medical supplies, etc. I thought they'd take it up to him and sneak him out quietly, but Paul's insisted he does the Walk of Shame through the village to the car park down Greenfield Lane. Ha!

  He and Davina are waiting—I'm guessing to make sure he actually goes—and then Avery rocks up, too, with big red eyes.

  Her mum tells her to go home, but she won't; she puts her arm through mine and drags me out of their earshot.

  "It's not fair, they're treating him like a criminal! We're in love, we aren't doing anyone any harm!"

  "Yeah, but you can see what they mean, can't you?"

  She pulls her arm away. "You're supposed to be on my side! Why doesn't anyone understand? Just 'cause Mum and Dad have never been in love, they're jealous of me for being happy!"

  The others turn up with Neil in tow, Dex and Kara carrying his luggage. Neil's got a big swollen eye and little white plasters all over his face from where Paul gave him a beating. And he's limping, but I think he might be putting that on.

  Avery dashes forward. "Neil! They can't make you go!"

  He doesn't even look at her.

  "Avery, be quiet!" Paul's got his Mr Angry head on again. Should be fun. "Stop making a fool of yourself, and us!"

  She rushes over to this big stone thing with a map of the island on it, and reaches down behind it. Uh-oh, it's a bulging backpack.

  "I'm going with him, you can't stop me!"

  As she struggles to put her arms through the straps of her pack, the buttons on her shirt fly open to reveal her humongous tits in a sexy black bra; this time, Neil's eyes pop out of their sockets. I want to laugh. She does just one button back up, pounces on him and clings to his arm; Dex and Kara are glancing back and forth, like they don't know if they should step in or not.

  "I bloody well can stop you," says Paul, stepping forward, fists clenched, but Dex and John hold him back.

  "We
don't want any more blood spilled, Paul," Dex warns him.

  "This isn't a good idea, Avery," Neil says, prising her hands off. "You go back with your parents, now."

  "Don't say that!" She flings her arms around his neck. "I love you! They can't stop us!"

  Neil takes her by the wrists and pushes her away. "Let's just leave it, shall we?"

  But she's determined, and she grabs him around the waist, weeping and wailing. I'm so embarrassed for her I can hardly watch.

  I move closer. "Ave, stop it, just let him go."

  "Shut up! You're just jealous because it wasn't you he wanted!"

  Kara raises an eyebrow at me. I pretend not to notice.

  Neil tries his best to lever her arms off him whilst getting an eyeful of her tits. "You'll be okay, you've got your friends and your family."

  Kara is packing the car up, slamming the boot down, and Paul looks like he's going to explode, but Dex and John are still on either side of him, holding him back.

  "Avery, come here this instant! Stop acting like an idiot!"

  "Listen to your dad, Avery," Neil says. He looks really pissed off.

  She hangs on, tightly. "But we love each other! They can't separate us!"

  "Get off me." Neil loses it, pushing her off him. "Look, I don't need this. I really don't."

  She falls back, doing that gulping thing little kids do when they've made themselves hysterical with crying. "Don't say that! We can be together, it's not up to them."

  He pushes her out of his way. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be getting thrown off this island, you silly little tart. Get the fuck away from me!"

  Paul's had enough. He throws Dex and John off him and lunges forward. "Nobody calls my daughter a tart!"

  This is awesome!

  Neil nips into his car sharpish, and slams the door. Avery is silent at last, open-mouthed in shock, and Paul's pounding on the driving seat window, shouting obscenities at him and kicking the door. Can't work out why he's kicking the door. All he's going to do is stub his toe.

  Neil starts the car, throwing Paul off as he speeds out at about sixty miles an hour, then he screeches off down the road with Paul still shouting lots of super bad words at him, and it's all over.

  Kara dusts her hands together. "Job done, then."

  I am so, so glad I am not Avery.

  I walk down to the barrier next day with Jax, 'cause it's a bright, sunny day, and we fancy a roam over the flats while the tide is out; Kara got me a book about birds and I want to see if I can identify any of them. Heath, John and Paul are talking to a man and a woman we haven't seen before. Ooh, new people, exciting! As we get closer I can see that the man doesn't look well; he's dead pale, with mauve shadows under his eyes. He's just standing there, while the girl does all the talking.

  "She's hot," Jax says.

  "Yeah, your dad reckons so too."

  Heath is smiling at her properly, not in that forced way he does these days; he's looking at her like he used to look at Mum. She's wearing jeggings and over-the-knee black suede boots, and a leather flying jacket. Gorgeous, long, dark curly hair; I'm totally jealous, I'd love to look exactly like her.

  "Hey!" Heath sees us. "Come and meet two new arrivals!" He takes my arm and draws me into the group. "This is Lottie, and this scruffy individual is my son, Jackson." He gives the girl one of his big Heath smiles again. "Meet Aria and Travis."

  They both seem okay. She's larky and chatty. He's been ill, apparently; they'd planned to travel weeks ago, but he got what they think was bronchitis.

  "Well, there's no one to diagnose anything now, is there?" Aria says. "I just found some antibiotics and hoped for the best."

  We're doing banter about all that sort of shit when another vehicle I don't recognise pulls up. It's a Land Rover, with a motorbike strapped onto the roof. Inside, I can see three people, all with very pale hair.

  "Aye-up," says John. "Haven't seen these two for a while!"

  We're sitting round the fire and Jax and I are telling the others about the new arrivals, when the front door bursts open.

  It's Ozzy. He flies into the living room. His dreadlocks look like a wild, woolly octopus, and his faced is all red and puffed.

  "Dex, man, you've got to come, now! She's having the baby!"

  Big panics all round. Mum throws Dex his coat and scarf, and he hurries out into the night. Mum seems on edge. I'm guessing she's worried that he'll feel differently about Naomi once he sees the kid. I don't think he will.

  In the morning, he returns. He has a son; he's called Roger.

  "Roger?" Mum and I say, in unison.

  "Yeah." Dex grins. "After her late father. It's slightly better than the alternatives Ozzy was coming up with. I quite liked Icarus, though."

  "Didn't you get a say in the matter?" I ask.

  "No." He raises his eyebrows and purses his lips. "But then I never did, did I?"

  I find out the next day that the fair-haired people in the Land Rover are the leader of the bikers, his girlfriend, and his sister. I'm wandering with Avery—who's heartbroken about Neil, it's so boring—and we see them down by the harbour.

  I think we ought to get to know the bikers. It'd make life more interesting. I wouldn't mind being a biker chick. And one of them is quite hot. I think his name is Mac.

  Chapter Seven

  Wedge

  All through January and early February, Wedge leaves the island most mornings. He travels across the country, surveys the devastation, and feels powerful because he survives. He finds burned out buildings, and, in the larger towns and cities, evidence of bomb demolition; here he sees black, charred bodies, and wonders if any of them were alive when the devastation was wreaked.

  In the country he finds wrecked, looted farms, animals roaming free, and abandoned cars, some containing rotting bodies. He explores, he seeks out food and booze, he siphons petrol, and creates his own mayhem when he feels like it. For the first time in his life he is free to go where the fancy takes him, take what he wants, administer punishment as he sees fit. He shoots dead a few who think they're man enough to stop him; some are military, others civilians stupid enough to put up a fight.

  He comes across groups of soldiers no longer trying to keep any sort of peace, just laying claim to their area.

  Now and again he finds people in houses, existing as best they can; in one there is a young man and two young women, weak and scared. He forces the boy, at gunpoint, to tie up the ugly girl, then ties him up and takes the pretty one to a bedroom. When he has done with her, he takes all they have: a hundred cigarettes, a box of flapjacks, Lucozade, a ring he likes, toothpaste, several bottles of OxyContin. Nice find.

  Once he has packed their meagre hoard into his saddlebags, he unties the ugly girl and she attacks him with a pair of scissors, going straight for his neck.

  He laughs; he'd already noticed her carefully nudging them off a table onto the floor, so she could reach them. Must've thought she was so clever. He grabs her wrist, directs the sharp points into her own neck and watches, fascinated, as she bleeds out. The young man weeps and begs, and Wedge stares into his eyes as he strangles the life out of him. Why didn't he protect them? Why would he think that someone who fucked one of his women and killed the other would show mercy to a soft shite who whimpers like a bairn?

  He leaves the pretty girl. She doesn't deserve to die.

  Wedge knows there is a new order, one in which he was born to thrive. Why else would nature make him immune? He senses who is weak and who is strong, who he can fight and who he mustn't. Out in rural Northumberland one day, happily cocooned in OxyContin, he stumbles across a small village barricaded at all three access points by cars piled on top of each other. He stops; he can hear music. Laughter, even. Interesting. He rolls up to the barrier, and greets one of the guards, who introduces himself as Ed.

  "These army fellas took the place over; it was deserted 'cept for bodies. They was based at a nuthouse a few miles away but their guv'nor shot himself, and
supplies were running low, so they legged it. Set up here. Me an' a few others, we come up from the Midlands, thought we'd try for a Scottish island but we wound up here along the way and never left." He laughs, showing a mouthful of brownish-yellow teeth; Wedge recoils from his breath.

  "They okay about you staying, then?"

  "Need the manpower, don't they? Visitors welcome, long as you got something we want." Ed gestures down the road. "Pub is well stocked, girls in the two big houses on the right, and there's always card games going on. Fights, of the bare knuckle and dog variety. Films. My mate Jim's even set up a little chemical factory in the end house." He grins. "You want it, you can find it here, depending on what you've got to trade."

  Wedge shows them a .38 snub nose, and Ed takes it. He and his men welcome him in, making jokes about his 'visitor's pass'.

  "You get our executive pass—the very best girls, deluxe size bag of product—if you can get your hands on the vaccine," Ed says. "Don't know if there's still any hanging around, they're like fucking gold dust. 'Side from that, we want fuel, weapons, ammo, decent food and meds. Fresh meat is good. Booze, batteries, smokes, bottled water, pharmaceuticals, we'll take anything. Bog roll, candles, disinfectant. What you get depends on what you got to offer." The three of them stand back. "Make yourself at home."

  Wedge nods to himself. This is more like it; this end of the world shit is brilliant. "How many of y' live here, then?"

  "'Bout sixty."

  "All blokes?"

  "Few women, but not the sort you wanna mess with. Sort you're looking for, they're down the road."

  Wedge sniffs. "They here by choice?"

  "Some are willing to do whatever it takes to keep safe and fed." Ed winks at him, and Wedge narrows his eyes. Can't make out if the bloke's a cunt or not.

  "What about the virus? If it gets in, I mean."

  "Why do you think we want the vaccine? There's not many green wristbands here, 'part from the army." Ed cocks his rifle. "Anyone displays symptoms, it's zero tolerance."