Blood on the Motorway

by Paul Stephenson

  'He took me away from the warehouse. Said to stay put, he'd go find food and come back. When he came back he said he'd spoken to people who had heard a policeman was gathering people together at some hotel somewhere. From their description it sounded like you. He goaded me on. He spent a day talking about what he would do in my position, how he'd kill the person who put someone he loved through so much pain. He talked about what might happen to the people you were pretending to be a Good Samaritan to.'

  'And so you came in search of me?'

  'Yes.'

  'Why didn't Ewen join you?'

  'He said he still had to look for his family.'

  'So you don't know where he went?'

  'Last time I saw him he was at the warehouse.'

  Burnett nodded. 'How did you hook up with the minibus?' he asked.

  'I can't remember. I was going to walk the whole way, but they pulled over and let me in. They had their own horror stories, but I barely listened to them. How could anything they'd been through compare to what I'd suffered?

  'When we got here I half expected to find a slaughterhouse. I figured I was walking into my own death, taking a whole minibus full of people with me, no less, but I knew I was going to take you down.'

  'I can't blame you for that, Philip,' Burnett said. 'You know it was him, don't you?'

  Philip nodded.

  Burnett leaned forward. 'I'm going to make him pay for what he took from you, Philip. I promise that.'

  Philip nodded again, his face crumpling into sobs.

  Burnett stood and left the room. As he closed the door he heard a moan of anguish from the other side of it. Tana and the priest were sat in the hallway.

  'Whatever that man needs, you give it to him,' Burnett said to the priest.

  'What are you going to do?' Tana asked.

  'What do you think?'

  He looked at the priest expecting a protestation, but there was none forthcoming. He looked at Tana.

  'Are you going to help me?'

  The question hung in the air for a second, and Burnett half regretted asking, but eventually Tana shrugged. 'Fuck it,' he said. 'Sorry, Father, but I'm needed elsewhere.'

  * * *

  Burnett's car remained a rank testament to the power of human odour, so they scouted around for an alternative, which was difficult seeing as so many of the cars had rotting corpses in situ. They settled on a big old Jaguar three streets away from the hotel, whose owner had been kind enough to get out of his car before dying on the ground next to it.

  'At some point we're going to have to deal with these corpses lying about the place,' Tana said as he got into the passenger seat.

  'I know,' Burnett replied. He started the car and pulled away, crunching some part of its previous owner under one of the wheels as they went.

  'It's so sad,' Tana said. 'All these people who'll never get a proper burial, never be mourned, never have people eulogising them.'

  'I think St Peter will still let them through the gates without a funeral,' Burnett said, as he looked at the road signs and tried to determine where he needed to go.

  'I never took you for a church type,' Tana said.

  'I'm not,' he replied. 'I was being sarcastic.'

  'Your sarcastic voice sounds pretty much the same as your normal one.'

  'It's been said before,' Burnett replied. 'You have any fucking idea where we're going?'

  'Um, yeah, that way I think,' Tana said, pointing back at a turnoff they'd just passed.

  Burnett cursed and swung the car round. 'Did Philip give us any more useful information on our guy?' he asked.

  'Not really,' Tana replied. 'We don't even know if Ewen is his real name. Philip said he'd told him he'd been a scientist before the storm, and Philip didn't get the sense he was local. He told Philip was he was looking to find his family, and naturally Philip was too preoccupied with the murder of his wife to take a particular interest in his companion.'

  Burnett nodded, his head full of his own preoccupations.

  'Imagine finding out you'd spent days with the person who'd butchered your wife without even realising it,' Tana said.

  'I know,' Burnett replied.

  'Do you reckon we'll find him there?'

  'I dunno. You'd have to think he'd scarper as soon as Philip went on his way. He might even have followed to watch the aftermath. But something about this seems like a provocation rather than a full on assassination attempt. He seems too focused on me to have someone else kill me.'

  'That's a cheery thought,' Tana replied. 'So we're playing his game, by his rules, and going to his turf to do it?'

  'Yes,' Burnett said.

  The rest of the journey passed in silence, and Burnett could feel the tension building in him as he got closer to the industrial estate. Over the years he'd learnt to channel the anticipation of a crime scene into something nearing a zen process, allowing the adrenaline to focus his mind without overriding his common sense. He was already clicking back into the old mental routine, running through check lists of things to look for, processes to follow.

  Next to him Tana didn't seem to be undergoing the same process, his partner fidgeting with increasing intensity the closer they got.

  As they reached the outskirts of the town a column of smoke rose into the air.

  'What do you reckon?' Tana asked.

  'I'd say someone has left us a great big arrow saying "come here",' he replied.

  'Yeah, come here and be killed,' Tana said.

  'Let's make sure it doesn't come to that.'

  They drove slowly through the streets, looking for any kind of movement, but all was still and calm. The dead littered the pavements as usual, but none showed signs of being anything other than the storm's dead.

  The smoke grew ever closer, and the surroundings changed from residential houses to industrial estates. Burnett supposed any of them might hold Susan's corpse or Burnett's killer, but he felt sure the column of smoke was the real pointer.

  They rounded a corner and there it was, in front of them. Outside a large pair of old warehouses sat a pile of burning tyres, thick black smoke billowing from the fire burning at its heart.

  'Here we go,' Burnett said. Tana shifted next to him and pulled out a gun in anticipation.

  'Remember, if you see this wanker, you shoot him as hard and as much as you can. No hesitation, right?' Burnett said.

  Tana nodded. They parked and Burnett pulled out his own gun. They sat in the car for a second, waiting for any sign of movement. The thick odour of burning rubber filled the vehicle.

  'Let's go,' he said.

  The large metal door to the first warehouse creaked open, announcing their arrival to anyone within earshot. The reek of putrefaction escaped like a blast of hot air and they stepped back.

  'What I wouldn't give for full riot police get-up right now,' Tana said.

  'Or a SWAT team,' Burnett replied. He held up his weapon and moved inside.

  The warehouse was dark, but there were shafts of light creeping in from somewhere ahead. It was practically empty, save for some abandoned rusting equipment and discarded boxes. Burnett assumed whatever business had once occupied this place had been a victim of one of the country's many recessions. He thought about every news report of natural disasters, which seemed to come with a monetary cost attached, as though that were people's only meaningful frame of reference. He wondered what the monetary cost of this particular apocalypse would be. He pictured some poor researcher in the bowels of a major newsroom, ignoring the world's collapse as he frantically tried to calculate the financials.

  The cavernous room was silent, except for the echo of distant water dripping onto metal. Burnett tightened his finger on the trigger, expecting something or someone to leap out at him at any moment. He tried to remind himself that this was only one man, at least as far as he knew. Not a monster, or a mythical being, or a vengeful god. Simply a man. Or so he hoped.

  Without a word, he and Tana split the room in two and moved fo
rward, Burnett taking the left. He headed toward the dripping sound, when a noise ahead of him made him stop. The shadows at the far side of the room shifted.

  He fired, over and above the moving object. The moving thing paused for a second, turned and retreated. It wasn't a man, Burnett thought. An animal of some kind, presumably attracted by the prospect of meat.

  He followed the movement. As it passed under a shaft of dull light, Burnett made out a large black dog. It reached the far end of the room and stopped. It turned towards Burnett and bared its teeth. Burnett looked into its eyes and saw that any remnants of domesticity had gone.

  Burnett hated dogs, as a lot of policemen who had once been the first ones through the door did. Too many half-arsed drug dealers who thought an abused Staffie was as good as having a bodyguard. He was twice bitten, thrice shy. He looked at the dog in front of him and saw nothing but aggression in its eyes. He dared not take his eyes off it, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Tana moving forward, his own gun raised.

  'It's okay,' Burnett called. 'I've got this one.'

  'It's not that one I'm worried about,' Tana replied.

  Burnett glanced around him. He'd been so focused on the one, he hadn't seen the other five. They were completely surrounded. 'Clever girl,' he muttered under his breath.

  'So. Count of three?' Tana asked.

  'Okay,' Burnett replied. He decided the dog in front of him had to be his first target.

  'Three, two, one,' Tana counted down.

  As one, their two guns fired, the shots ringing around the empty room. Burnett's bullet caught the first dog in the head and it collapsed, but if he'd hoped the shots might put the others off, he was mistaken. All four survivors started towards him at the same time.

  He swung to his right towards a large Doberman, which bore down on him when another jumped at his outstretched arm and sunk its jaws into his forearm. Burnett nearly dropped his gun in pain and surprise, but managed to whip the gun round in his other hand and fire a shot point blank at the dog's head. Its jaws went slack as the dead dog fell to the floor.

  Blood showered over Burnett, and the blast knocked his senses for six, deafening him. For a few seconds he stood in silent confusion, until he remembered the other dogs. 'Fuck!' he shouted to nobody in particular, and swung the gun round to where the other Doberman had been a second ago, but there was a canine corpse there instead. Tana must have got it.

  He looked over at Tana, who had climbed up on a box and was waving his presumably empty gun at the last of the dogs, which was snarling at him and sizing up if it could make the leap itself.

  Burnett didn't give it the chance. He raised his gun and put the dog down.

  'Thanks,' Tana said, jumping down from his box. 'You okay?'

  Burnett looked down at his arm. Deep gouges were visible in the flesh of his forearm, and blood flowed freely down to his hand. The sight of it made him feel faint.

  'Not really,' he said.

  'Sit down,' Tana said.

  'Ah shit,' Burnett said, lowering himself down while trying to keep his arm raised.

  Tana took off his shirt and tore it into strips and tied them around Burnett's arm. 'We need to find a doctor to look at this,' he said. 'This is going to get infected.'

  'I don't think we'll find many GP surgeries still open,' Burnett replied, getting to his feet. 'Let's worry about that later, shall we?'

  The six dead dogs lay still on the ground, and Burnett felt a wave of guilt about having had to kill them. 'We'd better check the rest of the place,' he said. 'Fucker could still be around here somewhere and we still need to find the body.'

  It didn't take long. In a room adjoining to the main hall they found it, barely recognisable as a human corpse. The malevolence meted out to it in death had been compounded by the dogs that had feasted on the torn and broken flesh.

  Neither of them wanted to linger long, but they both went into forensic mode, examining every inch of the room. Satisfied there was nothing of use to them, Burnett carried on through to the next room. There were no signs anyone was using it as a base, or even that anyone had been there at all.

  'Nothing,' Burnett said finally.

  'At least we know Philip was telling the truth,' Tana replied.

  'Doesn't exactly help us though, does it?'

  They walked through the main building and its assortment of dead dogs.

  'What now?' Tana asked.

  'I'm done,' Burnett replied, his voice cracking.

  'What do you mean?'

  'I mean I'm done. Let this fucker come and find me if he wants to. I'm done walking into his traps.'

  'What about Philip?'

  'What about him?'

  'You made him a promise.'

  Burnett frowned. Curse Tana and his memory. He stared at the floor. 'I'll break it. I can't bring his wife back.' He looked up, and fixed Tana with a determined look. 'The only time we've gotten close to this mother fucker is when he's wanted us to. I'm sick of playing his games.'

  'Listen,' Tana said. 'I used to think you were mad, chasing this guy down. But we can't let this guy go on killing and torturing people.'

  'Why not?' Burnett said. 'It's not like anybody is paying us to catch him.'

  'You don't honestly mean that?'

  Burnett sighed. 'No. Of course not.'

  'We have to keep going.'

  'Fine.'

  'Good. So what do we do now?'

  'Don't ask me, you're the one who wants…' Burnett stopped. He looked around him. 'Son of a bitch,' he said.

  'We have no idea where this guy is right now,' Tana said, oblivious. 'He could be back at the hotel carving them into pieces. He was here, what, three days ago?'

  Burnett turned round to face him. Tana looked at him with a vexed expression.

  'We know he's close by,' Burnett said.

  'How?'

  'Turn around.'

  Tana looked about, but saw nothing, and turned back, shrugging his shoulders. Burnett raised his eyebrows and Tana turned around again. This time he saw it.

  'Bastard,' he said quietly.

  The bodies of the six dogs had been gutted, their entrails spread out across the floor. Tana went over to a pile of boxes and climbed up.

  'Does it say what I think it says?' Burnett asked.

  'It says "missed me".'

  'Anything else?'

  'A smiley face.'

  Burnett nodded. His arm stung as he raised it to rub his eyes.

  'So we carry on?' Tana asked.

  'We carry on.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE SUN SMELLS TOO LOUD

  Tom loaded his supplies into the minibus, the back half of which was laden with various boxes of tins, pasta, suitcases full of clothing, and various other things which people had considered of importance. Someone had wedged in a small bookcase full of books. Others had also gone to the trouble of giving the minibus a clean, which Tom made a mental note to thank them for if he ever worked out who they were.

  He watched as they milled about, getting organised. The minibus could hold nine, including the driver, and they had Baxter's old Land Rover as the lead vehicle. He wondered which he should ride in.

  One of Baxter's men came over. 'Tom,' he called. He was the one who had done the talking at the meeting. He was tall and there was a lot of him.

  'Yes,' Tom replied.

  'We've got these for you.' He gestured to his companion, the quieter one, who held a large duffel bag. The other one held the bag open, revealing guns. Lots of guns, and ammunition too.

  'Oh,' Tom said.

  'We figured you should have them.'

  'Okay. Thanks.'

  'Listen, I know you said you wanted us to pitch in, so, we're both drivers, Ralph and me. We drove convoys in Afghanistan and Iraq. Hostile areas and that. We'd be more than happy to be your drivers.'

  'I'll have to… talk it over.' Tom said.

  'I'm Patch, by the way. Listen, if you'd be happier with us sitting in the back, that's fi
ne. Wanted to make the offer.'

  Tom shook the man's outstretched hand. He took the bag from Ralph, its weight taking him by surprise, almost sending him toppling over.

  'What was that about?' Leon asked, coming over as soon as the two men were gone.

  'They gave me a big bag of guns and asked if they could drive for us.'

  'Fuck,' Leon replied. 'Wait, you're not actually entertaining the idea, are you?'

  'Well, they're trained military drivers. They know what they're doing, and they'll be the best ones to react if we come under fire.'

  'Do you think that's a good idea, putting our lives into their hands?' Leon asked, his tone moving from friendly to aghast.

  'I don't know! They gave us the bloody guns, didn't they?'

  'No, you don't fucking know!' Leon replied, his voice raised now to the level where people around them started watching. 'You have no idea if anything you've decided is a good idea, and yet you keep blindingly doing it anyway!'

  'Well, I tell you what, if you come up with any better ideas than standing there and bitching and moaning at me you feel free to step up,' Tom shouted back. He turned his back on his friend, feeling the heat in his face and the eyes on his back.

  He was glad he hadn't told Leon he'd already considered giving Patch and Ralph guns, too. Leon could be right, of course. If those men got into a fire fight with their old comrades, who knew where their allegiances would fall? They could be setting him up to lead them all straight into an ambush to pay him back for what he did to their boss. He felt stupid for losing his temper, but was still too annoyed at Leon to go to make peace.

  Leon got into the minibus, and, after a frown, Susan joined him. Tom guessed he would be in the front car, after all. He climbed into the front passenger seat of the Land Rover wondering if he could do this without Leon. Did he even want to, if that was the cost? If anything should bind tighter the bonds of friendship, he'd thought the apocalypse would.

  There was a tap on the window. Leon and Susan stood by the car, Leon looking sheepish. Susan motioned to wind down the window. Tom obliged.

  'Listen, if I'm going to have to play marriage counsellor every ten minutes with you two it's going to get pretty boring,' Susan said. She opened the rear door and jumped in behind Tom.