Cans on the ground with small black crosses inked on them. Packets of cigarettes. Snack bar wrappers. Bottles of booze. ‘I mark all of them…all stolen…’
‘Not by me,’ Tommy says. ‘That fat bitch… Pammie, she kept bringing it all over saying it was hers…honest. This just got out of hand. I had some drinks. I’ll admit that. A few jokes and then they all went nuts. I was calling ‘em back. I was trying to let it just blow out…these things happen don’t they…’
‘You’re a racist, homophobic, lying, thieving fucking prick,’ Simar shouts. ‘Kill muzzies…that’s what you said. Burn the mosque…it’s not a mosque! It’s a bloody canteen so you can eat.’
‘It was a joke,’ Tommy says.
‘You said kill the muzzies…you said kill the queer cunt!’
‘Me and Norm go back. It was a laugh. Norman knows me. We came in together…bit of bants innit. Fucking snowflakes, can’t say anything now. Everyone going on. The bloody PC brigade censoring what you say…it’s how we speak where I’m from. I don’t know the terms for foreigners…just having a drink. Banter innit. Joking. Fuck me…you’ve killed loads of people. Shooting them for getting drunk…’
‘THEY TRIED TO KILL US,’ Simar roars out. ‘YOU SHIT ON MALEEK’S TENT…YOU SET IT ON FIRE…you said you wanted to hang my family from the walls…you stole our food and trashed the tents people risked their lives for…YOU DID THAT…’
‘Come on, look, this just got silly. I saw my wife die…right in front me…I went out and had a go to get her back. I tried…but they had her. I hid in the garage…days without food or water…then I gets here and everyone’s telling me the muzzies…you know…the followers of your Islam, they did it…’
‘I’m not a Muslim. We’re Sikhs… WE’RE FUCKING SIKHS…’
‘I dunno what you’re all called. Jesus mate. I’m a Christian…I’m on meds for my slipped discs. Ask that doc. Lisa. She gave me a note…’ he pauses as Lilly starts walking towards him. ‘I didn’t steal. I didn’t! That fat bitch said we could have it. I thought it was okay and that Colin was yelling at us to work and we said we’re sick and that Polish bitch…that Lenski, she said we can’t eat and we got scared and…’ he pauses again as Lilly stops next to Mary, reaching to take the pistol from her hand, checking the magazine and sliding the top back. Loaded, made ready. ‘What you doing that for?’ Tommy snaps. ‘Fuck me…few beers and you kill everyone. THAT WHAT YOU DO IS IT? KILL PEOPLE?’
‘Yes,’ Lilly says with brutal honesty.
Tommy backs up, his wild eyes darting left and right. Everyone watching him. Faces hard. ‘WE DIDN’T DO NUFFIN…I saw my wife die…’ he nods fast as Lilly stalks at him. ‘RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME…I tried to save her. Nightmares. Given me nightmares…I can’t sleep…come on. It was just a laugh…just got out of hand…’ he backs up, the fear growing in his gut at the sight of Lilly. ‘I SAW YOU…I SAW YOU GIVE THAT WOMAN A KICKING…double portions…creaming it off… sleeping in beds and fuck me, just having a drink. Shooting innocent people. Fat Pam did it…fuck off…I mean it…FUCK OFF…’ he rages and flushes red as Lilly walks on unfaltering in her step. The utter intent entirely clear. ‘They started it…soldier told me. He said it was a jihadi…I thought I was helping…I’M SICK…GOT SLIPPED DISCS…SAW MY WIFE DIE…ASK THAT DOC…they started it…the queers, the muzzies, come on. Fucking come on…please…put that down…stop it…FUCKING STOP IT YOU CUNT…’
He trips on a beer can sliding underfoot, dropping to a knee as Lilly walks at him, lifting the pistol. Thumbing the safety off.
‘No!’ he scrabbles backwards, sweat pouring down his face. Tears spilling over his cheeks. ‘Pack it in…FUCK OFF YOU STUPID BITCH. I’ve got mental health…they started it…them! I’m not armed…I’m sick. I’M SICK…’ a wet patch grows on his groin with piss pouring over his bare legs from his shorts. ‘Please,’ he begs, whimpering and sobbing as Lilly comes to a stop, the pistol aimed an inch from his forehead. ‘No…please…I didn’t mean no harm…I’ve got learning issues…’
‘He made me fuck him for a drink,’ a voice calls out. Rough and harsh. Helen swaying on her feet. Her body shaking from head to toe. She hid all night under a torn down shelter and now stands with the empty vodka bottle in her hand. A small black cross inked on the corner. ‘He made me fuck him for this…’ she says, trying to hold it up but the shakes are too much. She coughs, harsh and bitter. ‘He couldn’t get it up…shoved his fingers in and called me a crack whore…’
‘FUCKING LYING CUNT…’ Tommy screams. ‘FUCKING DIRTY SLAG…FUCKING MUZZIES DID IT…QUEER FUCKING…’
A second in time. The clouds race overhead, and the wind blows her hair across her face, but all of that becomes background noise. Tommy screaming. People calling out. All of it fades out as Lilly stands in the middle, feeling like she is the only stationary object in the universe. Her mind filling with thoughts. To see the way forward at the very worst of times. That is her skill. To think clearly when the rage is screaming inside. To know when to fight, and when to think. To take all matters into consideration and know the best course of action to take. When to kill. When to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. When not to kill. When to use temperance and patience. Mary said she struggles with empathy. Norman said she is too harsh. Reginald said she is a most incredible young woman. Ruthless, capable and highly intelligent. You’d do well not to underestimate her.
Lilly is intelligent. She is very intelligent, but more than anything, she knows when the rot and darkness needs to be removed and so she shoots him dead. Pulling the trigger to ignite the primer that explodes the propellant which sends the bullet from the barrel into Tommy’s forehead, cauterizing the wound before removing the back of his skull.
A second for his body to relax and he slumps to the side.
A second for that gunshot to roll out and bring every head over.
A second for the fort to fall silent save for the wind blowing over the tops of the walls and the flap of material on the tents and shelters.
‘Too harsh?’ she asks quietly, staring down at the body.
‘No,’ Mary says.
‘No,’ Norman says at the same time.
Another second for Lilly to lower the gun and turn to look about at the carnage and destruction. ‘If anyone ever threatens the safety of this fort I will kill them…you need to know that. I need you to understand that…’
‘Don’t kill me…’ a woman nearby cries out, lying on her back cradling a broken arm. Her eyes bloodshot from drinking all night, her words slurred. ‘I didn’t do anything! They said…they said the muzzies started it…they said they’re gonna kill us all…’
‘Who say this?’ Lenski asks.
‘That Pam did! When I came in…she said the muzzies started it and they’re all infected…she said you’re protecting them…’
‘And the doctor,’ someone else shouts. ‘In the hospital…she said you’ll kill us if we don’t work. Said it’s like North Korea…’
‘She said it’s a death camp…’ the injured woman says, looking from Lenski to Lilly with desperation. ‘Said we have to give our food over so Lilly’s brother can eat the best stuff…’
Voices calling out. The wild mob now gone and back to individuals seeking a way to lessen their part and blame others.
‘They’re telling the truth,’ Helen calls out. The woman shaking so hard she can barely stand. Her arms wrapped about her body as though she’s freezing. A sight of abject misery but the way she speaks and the manner in which she says it holds weight. A flash of the person before alcohol ruined her life. Her spirit shining, her head lifting to speak out. ‘Pamela said that to me when I came in. She took us into the hospital and the doctor told us to fuck off…she said we’ll be told to work or we’ll get killed as Billy needs to eat…I don’t know who Billy is…’ she trails off, trying to lick her cracked lips. ‘Tommy told everyone their belongings will be taken away…he told them the leaders are taking the best for themse
lves…’
‘SEE!’ the injured woman says, nodding quickly, seeing a way out of it. ‘See…that’s what they said…’
‘They’re still animals,’ Helen says, her top lip curling up with distaste as she speaks. ‘That poor family at the end…the Muslims…they were going at them all night…kill the muzzies, burn the muzzies…they kept saying it over and over…they stood and pissed on their tent while chanting it…’
‘I didn’t do any of that,’ the injured woman shouts.
‘I saw you,’ Helen says. ‘All of you…’
Lilly turns and starts walking with such a look upon her face it is clear to all what she will do, and none show the least bit of surprise when she aims for the infirmary on the other side of the fort.
Lisa has this coming. She’s been baiting Lilly for days now. Undermining every decision she makes. Insulting and trying to humiliate her. Now this. Calling the fort a death camp. Telling new people they will be worked to death. Scaring and whipping them up into a frenzy. Giving sicknotes to people like Tommy. Adding fuel to a pressure cooker environment. Lisa has this coming.
Mary sets off after her. Ready to stand by her side no matter what. Ready to do what has to be done. An awful silence spreads. An awful, terrible silence as the fort becomes what it was before. A place of misery and suffering. A place where people come to die.
A death camp for the Little Tyrant to stalk across with a pistol in her hand, ready to do the right thing. Ready to kill everyone to protect her brother. Defender of the weak. Defender of them all. The Little Tyrant with her cold blue eyes and golden hair pulled back. The Little Tyrant that can fix every issue with a gun. It’s easy. Just point and shoot and the problem goes away.
She fixes her cold blue eyes ahead. Unblinking. Her step unfaltering. This must be done. This has to be done. Something in her view looming large. Something new. The skeletal frame of the new canteen standing high. Almost lost to fire and riots.
Her foot scuffs a can and she flicks her gaze down to see the black inked cross in the corner that Lenski put on to trap the person stealing. An effort made to prevent loss and to bring order without violence, and aren’t they the signs of a society?
She looks again to the canteen with a surge of frustration that it isn’t finished yet. That they had dared to gain a shred of positivity only for the rot and corruption of the old world to come and take it away. Except it hasn’t been lost. It’s still there. The fire never took hold because good people stopped it. Good people held the line and stood up. Bashir took a rifle and shot people to defend it. Joan and Kyle took life to defend it. Everyone else poured in and fought back to defend it too. Aren’t they signs of a functioning society too? One that has values and decency?
Confusion inside and she comes to a stop within five strides of moving off and that silence rolls on, save for the wind flapping the tents and shelters.
She goes to holster the pistol then remembers her holster is lost to the sea. Then she spots her bare feet and wonders if her socks came off with her boots, or after when she was somewhere between swimming and drowning. She doesn’t know. She turns and looks back to Mary, seeing she has only one bare foot while the other is clad in a bright purple sock with pink spots. It looks weird. Almost funny. She saw those socks in the outdoor place they raided. That was a good day. The last few days have all been good days. They flattened the bay and built a wall. They emptied all the contents and got material over here so that canteen could be built. And it’s big too. Bigger than she thought it would be. Higher, wider, longer. She looks to it now. Seeing the struts and joists. Seeing the thick sheets of marine ply ready to be nailed in place to make it a building, but it’s more than just a building.
Understanding dawns in her mind as another thought enters. She read that firefighters in the Second World War risked everything to protect St Paul’s Cathedral, and even Winston Churchill said it had to remain because of what it stood for. Not because it’s place of worship, it’s more than that. It’s the point of unity. The rallying point. That’s the line they chose to form up on. John, Pardip and the others. Even Maleek and Bashir. Nobody told them to do that.
She looks again towards the infirmary and finds the essence of her rage has shifted inside. It’s still there, but it’s different now, quieter. Another voice is shouting to be heard. Another ideology. She can kill Lisa with ease. Lilly has that ability. Be that right or wrong, but right now, in her mind, there are two paths stretching ahead of her. One leads to Lisa. The other to the building site. One leads to death. One leads to hope. Lilly knows such thoughts are cliched, trite even. But that doesn’t make them untrue, and nor does it reduce the significance of their meaning.
She turns to look back, seeing everyone where they were. People on the ground. People standing. The sky above them filled with rolling clouds. Two paths behind her. Two ways forward from here, except to Lilly, there are always more options. She is, after all, ruthless, capable and highly intelligent, and right then, she remembers the conversation with Kyle, ‘do you know what Henry did when someone wouldn’t do what he wanted? Nothing at all! But then he’d call me and Frank and make them do what he wanted…’
‘Will you do something for me please,’ she asks Mary, her words clear and distinct.
‘Sure,’ Mary says, staring into those blue eyes.
‘Will you advise Doctor Franklin not to tell new arrivals that this is a death camp, and we do not work people to death, nor do we steal their possessions…’
A glint in Mary’s eyes as her head lifts an inch. ‘Will do,’ she says. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. Tell her to stop being a cunt,’ Sam calls out. ‘What?’ she asks when a few people look at her. ‘She bloody is…’
‘Aye. Will do,’ Mary says. ‘Anything else?’ she asks, looking at Lilly.
‘Please advise her that although she is a doctor and therefore highly valued, she is not beyond being removed from this fort and exiled…’
‘Exiled. Got it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Anytime, Blondie.’
Lilly nods, setting off. Mary nods, setting off. Both pausing as they pass by with shoulders brushing.
‘And tell her if she ever mentions my brother again I’ll slit her throat while she sleeps…’
‘Aye. I figured that…’
‘Were we meant to hear that bit?’ Colin asks.
‘I think so,’ Pea says.
‘Muslims did not start this,’ Lilly calls out, walking back to the others. ‘We have no idea where it started from and we do not work people until they are dead. We don’t take food either. We ask for it, so we have enough to feed everyone. If you object to something then speak out, we have a meeting nearly every morning where we raise concerns and discuss what we are doing. This is all new…all of this is…and we’re learning as we go, but don’t let this stop what we are doing. This is the new world…what these people did is from the old world and there is no place for it here,’ another pause to look about, to draw air. ‘We have work to do…we’ll always have work to do. Len, where can we put all the people involved in this?’
Lenski swallows, widening her eyes, her brain struggling to process it all and keep up. She shrugs, shaking her head. ‘I er…I not know…oh yes, I do know…old armoury. Yes. Put them in there. It has lock on the door to stop children going in…they will need medical aid yes? We get this…’ her legs shake as she speaks with a sick feeling in her gut from what just happened, but she fakes the energy. Forcing herself to call out. ‘Some will be exiled I think. I think this must happen. They cannot stay here, but we do this later. Now we have much to do. Yes? All of us. Is our fort. We make rules. Norman, you are lawyer. Write rules and put them on Colin’s notice board. If people break the rules, then they go. Exile. We make clear…’
Norman nods, his mind too shocked to think clearly. Everyone the same.
‘We must work now,’ Lenski continues. ‘We still need to eat today…we need that canteen finished. The ra
in isn’t here yet…’ she glances up at the sky, prompting many others to do the same, shifting their gazes from the crap about them to the world above.
John feels the same as her. Feeling like he just wants to find somewhere dark to cry and shake and a single glance round makes him realise he’s not the only one feeling like that, but he clears his throat. ‘Sim, let’s get the roof on…and er,’ he pauses, rubbing his face. ‘Aggie, could do with a cuppa, love…’
Agatha looks over at the big builder and his trembling hands with an urge inside to rush over and hug him. To hold all of them. ‘We’ll see to it,’ she says quietly instead. ‘Eh, Sunnie. Let’s get ‘em a brew on…’
‘My team,’ Colin calls out looking pale and drawn. ‘We er…um…right…gosh, I have no idea what I was about to say.’
‘We’ll get this mess cleared up,’ Joanne says, looking from Lilly to Lenski.
‘Good. Yes. We do this…’ Lenski says, summoning calmness where none should be found. ‘Where is Pamela? I not see her…’
Pamela hears her name drifting on the wind and steps further back into the gloom of a dark room littered with old debris at the side of the fort.
She stands in her underwear with dried vomit on her boobs and belly, and dried shit stuck to the cheeks of her backside. Her hair in disarray and the air fills with the soft munch of her jaws as she eats the melted chocolate bar, staring out at them all.
She slipped away when Tommy got them throwing flaming toilet rolls with an instinct inside that said it was time to go and hide once more in the old rooms and dark places. She saw the big fight though. And she saw Lilly shoot Tommy too. It made her feel funny inside. A bit sick, but a bit excited too.
Now she scratches her belly, plucking the dried chunks of vomit off. A heavy sigh and she retreats under some old material to lie low in the rat shit with spiders and bugs all about her. Pamela doesn’t mind them. She has cigarettes and snack food in here, and she can go out at night when it’s all dark.
The Undead (Book 23): The Fort Page 31