by Chris Harris
“Look,” he said, pleadingly, “I’m just a bloody lorry driver. You don’t have to ask my permission to do anything. You all have as much right to be here as we do! And yes, I will be telling my grandchildren in years to come about the time I was consulted by Prince Harry about the best place to put a toilet.”
He chuckled.
“And I know he hasn’t asked me that specific question, but that’s the story I’m going to stick to, because it sounds much funnier than a blinking lookout post, and if you don’t like it you can … ”
He looked round at us and grinned at our worried faces. “Look, just stop asking me for permission, will you? I’m just grateful you’re all here, and even more grateful for the coffee and sugar you brought with you. We ran out of those after about a week!” he said, sitting down again. “And now I can have my regulation mug in the morning, you can do what the heck you like!” he added, folding his arms and stretching his legs out.
As we all breathed a sigh of relief and started to smile, Harry winked at us, fixed him with a severe look, and in his best plummy tones said, “Steve, what about the toilet? Can you hurry up and make a choice please? I’m desperate and can’t hold it much longer!”
The ensuing laughter was much needed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The following day brought more dreadful news from home. Except for Allan, who was still clinging on, the others had all died overnight.
By now we had all learned not to hope, and most of us received the latest news with numb acceptance. Even the people directly related to the victims were mostly calm, having prepared themselves for the worst. Devastating though the news was, it had come as no surprise, and for most of them at least, the agonising wait was now over; their worst fears had been realised and the grieving process could begin. They gathered together and kept apart from the rest of us for a time, and we left them to mourn in private.
The news from the base was grim and consistent with our own. Most of the people who had contracted the disease had died. About twenty five percent of the deceased were recent arrivals.
Countrywide the death rate was likely to be much higher. We knew we had Jerry to thank for his quick diagnosis. This had enabled us to take the most basic precaution of issuing masks as soon as possible. There was no doubt that this had saved many of us from becoming infected. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for the other communities scattered across the country, who we’d been unable to warn in time.
A conference radio call was set up between the three locations to agree on a set procedure to follow, now that the disease appeared to be burning itself out. All the medical professionals taking part, Jerry included, were vehemently in favour of keeping the quarantine period in place for at least another two weeks. After all, although the measures taken to quarantine all suspected cases and the obligatory use of surgical masks appeared to have halted the spread of it, it could still be present. Only the passage of time would ensure that it didn’t return.
Somewhat reluctantly, the medics had finally given into pressure, and agreed that masks could be dispensed with among the groups who had not had a new arrival, or an occurrence of the disease within the last seven days.
So far, we were the only group that fell into that category, and we compromised over the removal of the masks by designating one person among us to complete hourly checks on everyone and to report any of the danger signs: raised temperatures or sweaty, clammy exposed skin.
Although we all longed to see the people we had left behind, realistically it was likely to be at least two weeks before that happened. The reunion, when it finally took place, would be an emotional one. We tried to curb our impatience by keeping ourselves busy, working furiously on improving our environment, even though we weren’t planning to stay for long.
A few days later we received a request to check in on the group that now occupied Gumin’s old base at the food distribution warehouse. They had been hit hard by the plague and in their last radio communication, had reported several deaths and about a third of their community infected.
Concerns were growing, as they’d missed the last two radio checks. The first one might possibly be explained away by the pressures of caring for their sick, but after two days of radio silence something needed to be done. In terms of sending out a team to investigate, we were the obvious choice. For one thing, we were the only group now free of infection. For another, we were easily the closest; only a couple of miles away as the crow flies.
We agreed without hesitation and passed on the planning of the mission to Harry.
Half an hour later we were gathered round him and he began his briefing.
While he stood quietly, waiting for us to settle down, it occurred to me that he looked every bit the warrior prince.
I glanced over at Kim and grinned to myself. She seemed to be hypnotised by the sight of him, resplendent in his full battle kit, and exuding an air of authority and confidence.
We were accustomed to seeing him in uniform and the women still talked about how good he had looked in the full-dress uniform he had worn on New Year’s Eve. This was, I suspected, partly to tease Kim.
As if she’d read my thoughts, Becky broke the silence by hissing loudly, “Kim, if you haven’t decided yet, hurry up. I know the competition isn’t as strong as it was, but damn girl, he looks fine in that kit! If Tom wasn’t the man he was I’d be tempted myself!”
As the people around us erupted into giggles, she looked over at me. I had been working with Chris and Russ on a water filtration and delivery system. My clothes were spattered with mud and I was looking decidedly dishevelled.
She sighed and rolled her eyes, “In fact, can I change my mind …?”
By now Kim and Harry were both looking decidedly red in the face and people were snorting with laughter.
Having masterfully regained his self-composure, Harry held up his hands for quiet and the briefing began.
“Folks, this mission should be an easy one. The group at the food warehouse has been out of touch for over two days now.” He paused and let this sink in, before continuing.
“Best-case scenario: they’re all fine and their radio, for some reason, is inoperative. If that is the case, we’ll use precautions to avoid infection, and sort out the problem or at least plan to do so in the future. Hopefully, we’ll find that they’re managing the disease and most of them are still well.”
His tone changed and his face darkened.
“Worst-case scenario: the plague has spread out of control and most of them are ill, dead or dying. If that is the case, then experience tells us there won’t be much we can do for them. But the question I want to ask you all is: would you be prepared to help relieve the suffering of people we know only distantly, knowing that they are likely to die anyway, and expose yourselves to unnecessary risk?”
Silence greeted this question.
“Obviously,” he continued, “only people with full masks will be permitted anywhere near the infected, and if we have any concerns, some or all of us may need to be quarantined on our return. The only way any of us will be allowed near the other group is if you agree to these terms. The safety of our own people has to be our priority,” he concluded bluntly.
We all nodded soberly, deep in our own thoughts, trying to decide what to do for the best.
I looked Harry in the eye. I’d known everyone in this group for some time now.
I knew that in the end everyone would say yes. Working so closely as a community over the months had pretty much beaten out any selfish traits any of us might have had. It wasn’t that we wanted to take any undue risks, but if we could help others at minimal risk to ourselves, then we were more than happy to go.
As if some silent communication had taken place, Harry nodded at us all and smiled slightly.
“Thank you.”
He took a deep breath and continued, “Of course there is one more possibility we have to consider. They may have been unable to respond to our calls becau
se they’re under duress. Before the plague they were a strong group, and more than capable of defending themselves and their location. If they’re in a weakened state, this may have made them vulnerable to other, more hostile groups.
Therefore, on our approach, we will exercise extreme caution. I’ve requested a drone overflight, but due to the situation at the base, this may not be possible.”
We agreed to leave at first light the following morning, to make the most of the lengthening days. Steve had asked to be included in the mission and we readily accepted his offer. It would be a good opportunity for us to work together, and for him to feel part of the group.
He was issued with a ballistic vest and webbing, and we spent the rest of the afternoon training him on basic manoeuvres and how to operate as a member of an armed team.
The training served as a reminder to us all of how far we had come together. Less than six months previously, we’d barely managed to fight off a gang when they’d tried to breach our rudimentary barricade of cars. We’d won the battle, but we’d fought naively as individuals, not as a team.
Since then, we’d been hardened by experience. Now we were a force to be reckoned with.
We had all seen combat, either in defending our homes against aggressors, or by taking action against those who had threatened to do us harm. As we ran Steve through some basic procedures to follow, based on several possible scenarios, I could see from his face that he was impressed. We all worked as a team and everyone knew their role.
He was an inexperienced shot so a lot of the training went into teaching him how to handle a gun safely. We needed to ensure that the rest of us were safe around him.
Including Steve, eight of us would be taking part in the expedition. We discussed the possibility of taking the Land Rover, but decided against it, choosing to walk instead.
By our reckoning, it would only take an hour to walk there and it would give us the opportunity to assess the area as we passed through it on the way to the warehouse. Having satisfied ourselves on the details, we retired for the night.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
We woke to a beautiful sunny morning. In spite of the sunshine, the early morning mist that lay across the fields like a blanket was a chilly reminder of the reason for our trip. Waving to our loved ones and friends, we disappeared into its moisture-laden embrace.
Walking in loose formation, constantly scanning the area around us for any threats, we kept the conversation to a minimum, as we walked along the route we had planned the night before.
After an hour, as we neared our destination, we tensed up slightly, all of us alert and ready to react if something happened.
Harry checked his map, and said to us in a low voice, “The main gate is on the right at the end of this run of buildings. Let me check if it’s clear first and then I’ll call you forward.”
We watched as he jogged to the end, crouched low and looked around the corner.
Within seconds he was running back to us.
“Something’s wrong”, he said urgently, “the gate’s wide open and I can see at least one body lying outside. Looks like gunshot wounds.”
He thought for a second.
“I can’t see who it is, so let’s assume that hostiles have taken control. Our job now is to find out what we’re dealing with.”
He looked at all of us in turn, then rapidly came to a decision, “Right, apart from Steve we’ve all received training and taken part in operations like this. I’ll take the lead, so watch for my signals. We’ll use cover and advance until we can survey the site better. Then I’ll assess the situation again and …”
He paused, shrugged and smiled, “Well let’s just see what happens, shall we?”
Turning to Steve, he said, “Look, no disrespect, but you’re not trained or ready for this. But what you can do is guard our backs. I’ll point you to some cover and then I’ll need you to be looking everywhere but at us. You’ll need to check for anything we might have missed, and for other people approaching. And remember, never point a gun at anyone unless you’re prepared to use it.”
Steve nodded, looking nervous but determined.
Harry slapped him on the shoulder, “Good man. Now everyone else, you know the drill. Check your weapons and follow my lead. No heroics and remember, there could be friendlies inside the building so if you have to shoot, check your target area first. And for Christ’s sake, let’s put our masks on. We don’t know what we’re going to find.”
It took us a few minutes to remove our rucksacks and make sure everyone’s kit was in good order. Finally, we stood in line ready to go, the adrenaline in our systems making our hearts beat faster and our hands sweaty.
Leading the way, Harry dashed to the first cover behind a car. Using binoculars, he surveyed the area from this new angle, then using hand signals, directed us to the next point.
From my position, everything looked quiet. Nothing could be seen apart from the dead man lying in front of the warehouse.
The gates were open on the compound, which was unusual. They had been constructed by the army engineers, after the original ones had been destroyed during the attack on Gumin. They had been the first and most important means of defence the group had and they had kept them locked and guarded at all times.
Motioning for us to cover him, Harry ran to the next position. As he made for another car, a single shot rang out. The sound was deafening after the prolonged silence. Harry dived for cover, landing in an undignified heap behind the vehicle. As we sought out the gunman using the scopes on our weapons, he dusted himself off, grinned sheepishly and gave us the thumbs up to show he was OK.
No one moved for the next ten minutes.
As the moments ticked by, I realised I needed to speak to Harry but he was too far away even to hear our shouts. I would have to get closer to him. I turned to the others, “I need to get to Harry. On the count of five, fire shots into the air. Do not aim at the building; we don’t know who’s in there yet.”
The others nodded, and at the first shot I was up and sprinting towards Harry. I felt something tug at my shirt just before diving for cover next to him.
As I regained my breath, Harry looked at me, “That was bloody close!” he said, pointing at my jacket.
I looked at my sleeve and was stunned to see a big hole in the fabric by my elbow. A bullet had missed me by millimetres and I hadn’t even realised.
All I could think to say was, “For God’s sake, don’t tell Becky; she’ll kill me.”
Harry grinned, “Oh, the logic of love, she’ll kill you for not getting shot. What would happen if you had got shot?”
“She would have killed you!” I said with a smile.
Laughing, he said, “Right, then, let’s get back to solving this little problem we have.”
We still couldn’t see any movement, but someone was out there with a gun, and judging by my near miss, he or she was a pretty good shot.
“Oh, well,” muttered Harry, “here goes nothing. We can’t sit here on our arses waiting.”
He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Who are you? We mean you no harm. We were just checking on our friends who live here.”
A faint reply came back, “Go away, or I swear I’ll kill you. Just like I killed the other ones!”
I looked at Harry. “Did that voice sound awfully young to you?”
He nodded, “It certainly did. I think we may be close to ending this.”
He shouted again, “Hello, this is Harry. I’ve been here before. I’m here with Tom from the people in Birmingham who helped you before. If you were here at that time, then you must remember me. We played a game of football and I was in goal.”
There was silence for a minute.
Hearing some noise from the warehouse, we peered cautiously out from our hiding place.
After another minute of banging and crashing, a door at the front of the warehouse slowly opened.
We raised our weapons ready.
A smal
l figure emerged and walked slowly into view. As far as I could make out it was a boy of about eight and he was holding a rifle. It looked ridiculously large in his small hands.
We all stood up and moved into the open as he got closer. He stopped and looked at all of us, then the tension in his face seemed to melt away and he dropped the weapon and ran towards Harry.
On impulse, Harry knelt down and the boy ran straight into his open arms, sobbing into Harry’s chest.
The rest of us gathered round, at a loss for words, and as the boy’s sobs finally began to subside, I signalled for the others to stay sharp and keep looking outwards. We still didn’t know if the danger was past.
“I remember you,” Harry said softly, “you’re that kid who was a great striker. I remember you scoring past me a few times.”
Now I could place him. He and his sister had been orphaned when Gumin’s thugs had killed their parents. After some discussion about where they should go, one of the families at the warehouse had offered to look after them, as it seemed best for them to stay among people they knew.
“Who else is with you?”
Struggling not to cry again, he said, “It’s just me and my sister. Everyone else got sick. We tried to look after them, but they all died.”
Harry nodded, “Where is she now?”
He jerked away as he realised he’d forgotten about her.
“She’s hiding. Let me show you. When the bad men came and found us, we hid somewhere better, you’ll never find her.”
We still had questions, but we needed to get his sister.
As we followed him, I noticed that Harry had removed his gas mask. He must have done it earlier.
A thought struck me, how had the boy recognised him?’
“Harry,” I whispered, “how long have you had the mask off? You could be infected. What the hell were you thinking?”
He spoke quietly so that the boy wouldn’t hear him.
“Tom, I know, but how else was he going to recognise me? I took what in my mind was a small calculated risk. But I accept the fact that I’ll have to quarantine myself for a while when we get back.”