by RR Haywood
‘Howie yes,’ she nods, ‘me, some. You they see the next Howie…you and Howie.’
‘Me and Howie,’ Maddox repeats the words, ‘Howie…where did he live?’
‘Howie? I not know this.’
‘Lani? Cookey?’
‘Lani is from the er…Isle of…er…’
‘Wight, Isle of Wight,’ Maddox nods, ‘Cookey was in the army and Howie worked in a supermarket. So they didn’t know each other. They had no connection. Not related.’
‘Hmmm,’ Lenski lets her finger tips glide slowly down his shoulder to the back of his arm holding his upper body still. She fingers the shape of the triceps muscles and round to his biceps then down to the smooth skin on the inside of his elbow. Smiling coyly, she sighs and looks up to see him grinning with his white teeth showing clear in the gloomy, dark room. ‘You see doctors now?’ She asks.
‘You said they’re asleep.’
‘They asleep,’ she nods and reaches forward to loop her hands round his neck, ‘all asleep.’
He lowers down back onto the bed and gently pulls the blanket away before tracing a soft path across her naked stomach.
‘Maybe I’ll wait ten minutes,’ he grins.
‘Ten minutes?’ She arches an eyebrow at him, ‘you do this twice then?’
Laughing softly he lowers down and allows the warmth of a woman to soften the hard edges of reality and the constant whirring of his mind.
Thirteen
‘Dave…Dave…Get out there and tell them to go after the group…DAVE!’
Why am I still here? I can hear them perfectly, the whole bloody squabbling lot of them. I can hear everything they say. Weird, ghostly voices float about in this shitty, broken, ruined empty street I’m in.
I keep pacing up and down on the spot wondering why I’m still here and haven’t woken up yet.
‘DAVE?’ I shout into the grey skies way above my head, ‘YOU TAKE NICK AND PAULA AND BRING THE OTHER GROUP BACK, GET BLOWERS AND CLARENCE SHIFTING THE AMMO AND ROY AND LANI TO FIND TRANSPORT WHILE EVERYONE ELSE KEEPS WATCH.’
Nothing.
‘…Dave, what do you think we should do?’ That’s Paula’s voice. Bollocks, I know Dave and I know he won’t bloody answer the stubborn shit. He’ll be sitting right next to me, no doubt with either a knife or a gun in his hand, or a knife between his teeth and a gun in his hand. Maybe a gun between his teeth and a knife in his hand?
‘You just going to ignore us then, Dave?’ I wince on the spot at the scathing tone of Paula then listen to Cookey’s quick rebuke before it once again descends into a bloody mess of arguing.
I swat my chest again and look down as though something is pressing against it but there’s nothing there. And the bottoms of my legs feel hot too.
Am I unconscious? I’m definitely not asleep as I can’t wake up but I don’t feel unconscious. I feel very conscious in fact.
‘STOP BLOODY ARGUING AND GET ON WITH IT,’ I bellow at the sky. Roy is winding everyone up with this bluntness, Nick sticks to his principles which is good, but he should also be doing what Clarence says, and Paula is treating the whole thing like it’s a managers meeting. Cookey thinks my head is about to fall off with a blood clot and Lani is desperately trying to convince herself I’m having a nice nap.
Mo Mo sounds very calm though for such a young lad, maybe we’ve underestimated that one. Nodding to myself I turn on the spot and sigh.
‘This is shit,’ I say glumly, ‘really bloody shit.’ The houses, or rather, what were the houses, are all in ruins. Like something from post war Britain or Berlin. Everything is scorched, busted, ruined, rusty and just generally all a bit fucked up and messy. How do you wake yourself up? Pain?
No hang on, I ran into that wall in the tube when I found the old man and that bloody hurt and it didn’t wake me up. What else can I do?
I start jumping on the spot trying to jig my body. Maybe an increase in heart rate will do it?
I start jogging, heading down the middle of the broken street at a steadily increasing pace until I’m pretty much running. This feels too real, even to the extent my eyes are blurring from the wind in them as I run.
Bloody hell I’ve got so much fitter now and can run for ages. Two weeks ago I would have collapsed by now and be almost puking from the exertion. Mind you, Cookey does think I’m some super hero mega god bless him.
I know they all heard me pray that day and I have no bloody clue how that happened, or anything else but I’m not anything special and quite frankly, it’s getting a wee bit annoying that everyone thinks I am.
Even that old man who died when I carried him out was saying how there was this group led by Howie that could have changed the world. Changed the world my arse. A ragtag bunch of bloody misfits all thrown together and led by a twat Tesco night shift manager.
‘Fuck!’ I slow down to a stop and stare ahead. I know that place. A squat, brick built building that looks intact with open ground all around it that leads into the countryside. That’s the munitions factory. Fuck me.
I turn back to face up the street I just ran down. It’s still the same shitty residential street but when I turn to face forward instead of more shitty residential streets, I can see the ground simply changes into the open land surrounding the munitions factory.
‘DAVE?’ I try again, screaming his name in the hope he’ll hear me. I walk forward steadily, keeping a close eye as the building comes clearer into view and wince again at the sight of the busted in reception area and the Saxon within it. I instantly feel a surge of guilt, what was I thinking?
‘Sorry about that,’ I whisper.
When I turn to look back at the street it’s not there anymore. Just more open ground. Shaking my head, I head towards the building as the sky above me darkens quickly into night.
This is here. I mean, this is here and now. I’m inside that building now and the team are in there now and I’m outside…now.
It’s so real that even the steps of my boots on the roadway seem too loud so I move quickly over to walk silently on the grass. The moon is high and bright, casting the squat building in a silvery shade.
I head down to the reception and spot Blowers leaning against the wall next to the hole I made. A red light flares as he inhales on a cigarette but he pays no attention to my boots scraping and crunching the debris underfoot as I trample through towards him. The Saxon looks huge inside this room, almost like a museum piece reflecting the carnage of war in the corporate world.
Mind you, this place made the bullets which made the wars so fuck ‘em. One trashed up reception room is a small price to pay for all the lives they have taken.
Whoa this is weird. I’m standing right next to Blowers as he leans against the wall and listens to the arguments within. His face looks strained, far more strained than I have ever seen him look. This lad is tough as old boots, as hard as they come but he looks ready to cry right now and sucks on that smoke with trembling fingers.
I peer down through the hole into the main room, and after a few seconds I start clambering through then worry that one of the others will clamber through at the same time which would mean we’d go through each other. That wouldn’t be so bad if it was Lani but not one of the others.
I make noise and grunt with the effort but not one of them even glances towards me, not even when I drop down on the inside and stand up while rubbing my hands together to rid the gritty dust.
Nick, as ever, is smoking. Cookey is smoking. Jagger is smoking. Mo Mo is leaning against the wall and everyone is sort of stood round in a rough circle as they argue and bicker.
‘…and the longer we stand here arguing then the longer it takes to get anything done,’ Clarence is seething. I can see it from here but he also looks defeated too, in the same way the fight looks like it’s gone out of Blowers outside.
‘Why is Blowers out there on his own?’ I ask out loud but of course no one pays any attention, ‘you should have two out there with Meredith keeping an ear on things.’
Nope. Still no reaction so I move into the centre of the group and position myself so I can see everyone. Then I stamp my foot.
‘OI,’ I bellow as loud as I can.
‘Clarence,’ Paula places her hands on her hips, ‘it’s not an automatic right to take charge and yeah you were a soldier but this isn’t a war…this is something no one has done before so we’ve all got skills that matter now.’
That’s a fair point. This isn’t a war zone with Generals and armies running about.
‘But we still have to have a chain of command otherwise the whole thing turns into a pile of shit,’ Clarence growls.
Fair point too. In a perfect world everyone can sit down and agree everything way in advance. But this ain’t a perfect world. This is the end of the world.
‘Why are we still here?’ Cookey groans, ‘Mr Howie could be dying…please…can we just get him back…’
Bless him. Cookey has a special place in all our hearts. Fuck it. He is the heart of this group and anyone of us would die for him. The lad is so open and so honest he has no idea of his own worth. He’s sees himself as the joker and fool when he’s so much more than that.
‘He’s not dying,’ Lani repeats, ‘he’ll be fine in a bit. We can get loaded up and then he’ll probably just wake up.’
Her loyalty is unfaltering but that sheer ferociousness of her character is crumbling away at the thought that perhaps I am not just resting and that something far more serious could be wrong. She falters and bites her bottom lip and even in this gloomy light I can see her blinking back the tears.
The big man rubs the back of his neck and glances over to the room where I lay protected by Dave. His face a mask of worry, confusion, pain, hurt and loss. He can’t hide his emotions either, ‘we’ve got to the get the ammunition and get back,’ he says again, ‘the fort is full of people relying on us.’
The soldier. Strong and resilient but now he too seems almost consumed with worry. He should be the one in charge, not because he was a soldier but because he will always be a soldier. That some of the others aren’t doing as he says angers me.
I admire Paula immensely. She not only survived on her own but slaughtered a whole town of the bloody things in the process. She is tough, quick thinking and an amazing asset to our team, but she has to realise that not every idea she has is the best one and she needs to listen.
‘SHIT,’ turning round I spot Mo Mo standing but a few feet away and staring hard at me with his eyes fixed on mine. He’s looking at me. Half hidden in the shadows but he’s actually looking right at me.
‘Mo Mo?’ I call his name softly with my heart hammering in my chest at the fright of seeing him staring at me. His head tilts slightly and he goes to speak.
‘Mo,’ Jagger prods him in the side, ‘you got any smokes, bruv?’
‘Huh?’ Mo Mo blinks and stares round as though snapping back to reality, ‘what?’
‘I said you got any smokes or what, bruv?’
‘Smokes? Nah…Nick’s got ‘em.’
‘Mo Mo,’ I call out louder this time and step towards him, ‘Mo Mo, can you hear me?’
His head tilts again and his eyes go slightly glassy as though unfocussed, ‘Mo Mo! Can you hear me?’
He blinks and lifts his eyebrows. His soft brown, Arabic complexion is so clear in this light now. He goes to say something then shakes his head and looks round at the others.
‘MO MO,’ I shout, ‘LISTEN TO ME,’ his gaze flicks back to the place I am stood, not at me but where I am.
‘Mo Mo, tell them to get two outside with Meredith. Blowers should not be on his own.’
He opens his mouth as a look of intense worry crosses his face. He looks round at Jagger who is occupied getting a smoke from Nick, then I watch as his eyes track round the rest of the group still bickering.
‘MO MO,’ I shout and again his head snaps to where I am, ‘Blowers must not be left outside on his own. Two outside with the dog…tell them…’
‘You’s,’ Mo Mo speaks then clears his throat as everyone looks round at him.
‘What?’ Clarence asks bluntly.
‘TELL THEM,’ I roar, ‘FUCKING TELL THEM TO GET TWO OUTSIDE WITH THE BLOODY DOG.’
‘Two outside,’ he snaps, ‘get Meredith outside, Blowers shouldn’t be on his own.’
‘Good lad,’ I shout, ‘now get some fucking energy into that voice and do it again…like this…JAGGER OUTSIDE WITH BLOWERS AND KEEP THE DOG FACING OUT…’
‘Jagger,’ Mo Mo turns quickly, ‘get Meredith and get outside with Blowers. He shouldn’t be on his own. Keep the dog facing out…’
‘We need her senses, Mo Mo,’ I prompt him.
‘She can hear things we can’t,’ he adds with a growing energy to his voice.
‘Mo Mo?’ Clarence asks gently.
‘Tell him enough of this,’ I snap.
‘Enough,’ Mo Mo states.
‘And stand up straight…look people in the eye when you give orders,’ I step closer and watch as the young lad stiffens to straighten his back, ‘say it like you mean it but be polite, politeness counts.’
He strides into the middle of the room and glares round at the shocked faces all looking at him, ‘Mo Mo, I want Clarence, Nick, Cookey and Paula getting the ammunition stacked and ready to be loaded…’
‘Clarence,’ Mo Mo spins to face up at the huge man, ‘take Nick, Cookey and Paula down to get the ammunition loaded…’
‘Our weapons are still empty, Mo Mo,’ I move closer and speak clearly, ‘they should be loaded with spare magazines at hand by now.’
‘Why are our weapons not loaded?’ He glares round at everyone, ‘we’ve been here a long time and still have empty weapons? We should be loaded and ready by now.’
‘GOOD LAD,’ I roar, ‘Roy and Lani go find another vehicle…’
‘Roy,’ Mo Mo spins to point at the shocked bowman, ‘and Lani, we need another vehicle to carry the ammunition back…’
‘BUT,’ I cut in, ‘only after they’ve got fresh magazines and loaded weapons.’
‘Get your weapons loaded first,’ Mo Mo snaps.
‘Shame on you,’ I roar at the group.
‘Shame on all of you’s,’ Mo Mo spins round with fire in his eyes.
‘Bickering when there’s work to be done.’
‘You’s bickering when you’s should be working,’ Mo Mo fires the words out.
‘Clarence is in charge.’
‘Clarence is in charge,’ Mo Mo points at him.
‘He was a professional soldier and knows more than the rest of us about how to accomplish our task.’
‘He knows this shit,’ Mo Mo roars.
‘We will find the people who ran off…’
‘Oh we will go after those people that legged it,’ Mo Mo grows taller with every word uttered.
‘But after we’ve got loaded and ready.’
‘But we get our shit done first.’
‘Tell Cookey Howie is fine…It’s not a blood clot…’
‘And the boss,’ Mo Mo faces Cookey, ‘just needed a time out, he doesn't have a blood clot.’
‘Er, Mo Mo,’ Paula says slowly, about to start arguing with him. I grin as I spot Dave creep ever closer forward at hearing Mo Mo speaking.
‘Do as he says,’ Dave barks.
‘No, listen,’ Paula starts to speak but gets cut off by the low growl of Meredith now standing by the side of Mo Mo.
‘YOU WILL FOLLOW THE ORDERS GIVEN,’ the drill sergeant’s voice booms round the room.
‘Well done, Dave,’ I grin.
‘Well done, Dave,’ Mo Mo booms. Everyone starts moving apart from Dave and Clarence who both stare hard at Mo Mo. As one, they both turn to look at my body lying flat out in the room behind then back to Mo Mo.
‘Innit blood.’ Mo Mo grins with a slightly crazed expression on his face, ‘swear down.’
Fourteen
She draws a breath and works to keep any expression of frustration from her face
. Only when she is sure her tone and manner will be completely neutral does she speak, and even then she watches him carefully.
‘James, I love being here with you. I really do,’ she nods emphatically, ‘but…’ she stops mid-sentence when he turns to stare. He doesn't portray anger, but a completely normal look of interest in the words she speaks, but the fact he turned is enough for her to choose each word carefully.
‘Go on,’ he nods for her to continue, ‘but what?’
‘Nothing,’ she smiles quickly.
‘What? Say it,’ he smiles back, ‘you can talk to me, you know that.’
‘Yeah of course,’ she nods again, ‘I don’t know what I was saying,’ she shakes her head and gives a light laugh.
‘You said,’ he smiles gently, ‘that you love being here with me but…what was the but?’
Panic starts to rise that he smiles so gently and speaks so softly. His soft, blue eyes settle on her face and she swallows nervously, ‘I…I mean…you’re hungry,’ she looks up with a sudden idea, ‘and I’m worried about you.’
‘Worried? What for?’
‘Because you’re so hungry and you’re doing all the work and…and you need to keep your strength up.’
‘My strength is fine.’
‘Oh god I didn’t mean that, I just meant…’
‘What’s wrong with my strength?’
‘Nothing! James, nothing is wrong but…you’re hardly eating anything and…and not now, god not now but later…like…in days or weeks then…’
‘What’s wrong with my strength?’
‘James! Nothing,’ she rushes towards him sensing the atmosphere dropping through the floor. ‘You’re so strong and,’ she puts her hands on his shoulders she feels the hard bones and sinewy muscle, ‘I mean wow, James,’ she squeezes his thin arms, ‘you’re so strong. Forget it,’ she tries laughing again, ‘I’m just being a worrier as ever.’
‘Warrior? You want a warrior?’
‘What? No! I said worrier…I worry…you know I worry about you.’
‘Yeah right,’ he says quietly and her heart drops through her stomach at the way he says it. It’s a quiet muttered response and his eyebrows lift up. She watches his blue eyes and maybe it’s just her perception but they now seem more grey than blue.