The Hurst Chronicles (Book 1): Hurst

by Robin Crumby

  “Be careful Jack. Don’t underestimate him. He’ll be plying you for information, just as much as you he, fishing for details, trying to influence you,” warned Scottie.

  “I’ll be ok, Scottie. Tommy, can you stay with the guard outside and be ready to step in should the prisoner turn violent,” instructed Jack.

  ***

  Jack retraced his steps to the improvised cell, followed a few paces behind by Tommy. He waited for the guard to find the key and unlock the door again. Jack took a deep breath, before going back inside carrying the hurricane lamp held high to light the way. He crouched down on his knees opposite the man in black, setting the lantern in between them on the floor and waited for the door to clang shut behind him. The prisoner ignored him altogether and continued staring up into the darkness, his eyes locked on a spider in the corner, quietly spinning its web. After a prolonged silence, the prisoner finally turned his head towards Jack. In the half-light, his eyes were like dead pools, devoid of life. His face was expressionless, like an impenetrable mask. Jack’s eyes narrowed, steeling himself to the task at hand. Trying to maintain a calm exterior and air of authority, pondering his next move. He imagined himself as a chess-master facing his greatest adversary, exploring cause and effect, waiting for his opponent to make a mistake.

  “Something you forgot to ask Jack? I think I’ve told you everything I want to tell you, for now.”

  “Now it’s just the two of us, let’s cut the crap, shall we? Let’s start again and have a proper conversation, man to man. Leader to leader, so to speak. But let’s not forget who holds the upper hand. Need I remind you that you are a prisoner of Hurst? I call the shots, not you. You’ll wait here in this cell until you tell us what we want to hear. For all I care, we can leave you in here and throw away the key. Wait until you’re ready to talk. No-one’s going to come and bust you out.”

  He paused, waiting for his adversary to take stock, reconsider his surroundings, to reflect on who held the balance of power before continuing.

  “So let’s you and me start over. Why don’t you begin by telling me why you really attacked the castle and why your men saw fit to leave you behind? My men seem to think you’re some kind of Trojan horse, but it sounds more like you got careless. You’d served your purpose and they discarded you like a broken pencil.”

  The man in black smiled, shifting his body weight, adopting the same kneeling position as Jack, mirroring his body language. Leaning forward, the lantern lit his face from below. His features seemed suddenly contorted in the pale light, his eye sockets empty, almost ghoulish, his smile demonic.

  “Oh I don’t know,” he opened brightly. “I always saw myself living in a castle one day. An Englishman’s home is his castle. Isn’t that what people used to say? But after seeing this old dump, I’ve changed my mind.” He paused, staring unblinking at Jack. “If you really need to be told why we attacked Hurst, I’ll tell you. There’s no big secret. That Bok of yours, Will, told me all about this place and I figured, why not? Eliminate a rival on our doorstep, claim the castle for myself, live happily ever after. Perhaps you haven’t noticed Jack, but it’s dog eat dog out there. Sooner or later someone was going to come along and take this place away from you. It was just a question of time. You can’t live in your little bubble for ever?”

  “We’re more than capable of defending ourselves. I think you found that out for yourself last night. We’re peace-loving folk, we were never looking for a fight. We’re doing what we can to get by. It may not seem much to a power-hungry megalomaniac like yourself, but to us this is home, this is survival. Hurst is self-sufficient. Providing we catch enough fish and grow enough vegetables in the fields to feed the hungry, then we’re content. All the rest of what goes on out there is not our concern. Keeping our heads down, staying clear of the madness out there. Isn’t that the life and security people crave? That’s what we’ve built at Hurst.”

  “It’s all a bit ‘Kum-ba-yah’ isn’t it, Jack? Sitting round a campfire, singing songs, saying prayers, slowly dying a little bit every day. Then what? Out there people are doing more than just surviving. They’re getting organized, reconnecting with other groups, rebuilding. What are you doing? You’re hiding? You have your heads in the sand. Sooner or later you’re going to have to get involved, choose a side. Alliances are forming and you can’t stay neutral forever. You’re not a colony, you’re a castle. A pile of bricks and stone, nothing more,” goaded the man in black, trying to rile Jack.

  Jack parried with a dismissive wave, trying his best to remain calm, marshalling his rising sense of anger, adopting his best poker face.

  “What makes you think we haven’t chosen sides already? You think we’re isolated and alone here? We’re not. We have friends, alliances, more than you can imagine. When you attack Hurst, you attack a whole network of Solent forts and small communities pulling together. We don’t stand-alone, we are an interconnected alliance growing and expanding. Just because we have chosen a life of neutrality and non-aggression doesn’t mean that we won’t defend ourselves, stand up for our way of life when challenged. I want you to know that we will hunt your men down like the vermin they are, wherever they’re hiding, we’ll find them. We have powerful friends who protect us and watch over us. You should know that there’s a new order coming to sweep away people like you, eliminate all of the chaos and disorder once and for all.”

  “Oh I know all about the Americans and Camp Wight. Don’t tell me that’s your big secret, Jack? Do you really think you’re the only one that was invited to the meeting at Osborne House? Some of us chose not to go. Ever considered that? Do you take me for some provincial village idiot, Jack? I assure you I’m very well informed.”

  Jack was blinking furiously, trying to keep his emotions under control, while his mind raced, trying to play catch up. He was genuinely lost for words for a second. Jack took a moment to compose himself, stroking his beard methodically, before he was ready to speak again.

  “Things are moving quickly. Whatever you think you know, you only know the half of it,” said Jack before pausing abruptly. “Oh, but forgive me, perhaps you haven’t heard the news. All cooped up in here, cut off from everything that happened over the last few hours. You would do well to realize that you and I are but pawns in a much larger game and someone just raised the stakes sky high. There’s nothing now you can do to stop our plans. The wheels are already set in motion. Unless, that is, you have a whole army at your command?”

  “Oh I have something much better than an army, or a navy for that matter. I have a virus. A pandemic virus. Left unchecked, it’s capable of wiping out human life on this planet as we know it. Phase one of that process is already complete. Whoever controls the cure, pulls the strings, holds the fate of all those who remain alive. Just think of the power bestowed upon whoever can be first to manufacture and distribute a vaccine? Wealth and influence beyond anyone’s wildest dreams.”

  “And yet, despite all that power, you came back here for the girls. Risked your lives to get them back.” Jack laughed scornfully. “You’re bluffing. Without the girls, you have nothing.”

  Damian sneered back at him, mocking Jack’s attempts to provoke him.

  “Losing the girls was an inconvenience, a trifle, nothing more. A minor set back to our plans. The girls are of little importance. And you should know that without their regular injections to boost their immunity, they’ll die like all the rest and then you will have nothing. But I will still have years’ worth of research. We already know so much about the virus. We have samples of their blood, more than enough to continue our experiments. The girls mean nothing now. You can have them. They’re yours.”

  Jack was beginning to panic. He was running out of moves. He’d played his cards, and found his adversary always seemed to hold the upper hand, or at least was better at bluffing than him. He was taunting Jack that he knew everything he knew and more, but how? He had to be in league with someone else who had been at Osborne. In his mind, he repla
yed the mental image of the drone footage, of Briggs standing next to Victor from the Maersk Charlotte. An idea began to form. A conspiracy. Was it possible, they were all working together? A powerful alliance that would stop at nothing to see the plans for Camp Wight fail and chaos continue in the region. But why? Towards what end?

  “Poor Jack,” Damian continued. “You really don’t understand do you? You really think that the Americans can just waltz in here and everyone will just roll over and let them tickle our tummies? Welcome them with open arms and share all our food and resources with a foreign power? Don’t be so naïve.”

  “Au contraire. I can assure you it’s you who’s playing catch up. It seems you’re a little out of the loop. Oh how silly of me, I forgot. You’ve been out of contact with your men for several hours. Perhaps you haven’t heard?” parried Jack.

  “Very well, Jack. What have I not heard? Surprise me.”

  “The Parkhurst crew. Dead. Destroyed.”

  The man in black pursed his lips and grimaced: “Parkhurst prison? What are you talking about? Is that meant to mean something? I’m growing tired of your games.”

  “Your friend, Briggs? Briggs is dead. It would seem that your axis of evil is finished, before it ever had a chance to get going.”

  The man in black laughed again throwing his hands up in mock despair but showed no flicker of recognition that he knew what Jack was talking about, shaking his head. Jack’s gambit had failed. His lie about Briggs’s death fell on deaf ears and he did a poor job at concealing his frustration.

  “Axis of evil? Is that what you really think? You’re more deluded than I thought. Oh so wait, you’re the good guys and we’re the bad? Life is never that black and white. Please don’t kid yourself that you’ve captured some evil genius hell bent on your destruction and now the world will be a safer place. The new world is full of people like me. I’m just like you, Jack. Fighting for what I believe in, looking after my own. Trying to make a better life. You want to know the difference between us? You’re an idealist. I’m a realist. You see the world through rose-tinted glasses. You think everyone is inherently good. I don’t. Life is a game and people are merely pieces on a chessboard. You just have to figure out how to use them to win.”

  He shook his head with a pained expression, enjoying the moment. “You think because you live in a castle you’re better than the rest of us? It’s pathetic. You see the world in absolutes. Good versus evil. Do you really think that because I’m wearing black, it makes me a bad person? Please, don’t judge a book by its cover. Next you’ll be telling me that living in a lighthouse makes you a shining beacon to others, you self-righteous arse.”

  Jack was shaking with rage, his left eye flickering involuntarily. “No Damian, you’re wrong. I don’t judge people based on what they believe, but I draw the line at killing innocent people. It is our actions that define us as people. Not our clothes, or what we say. You see the world in shades of grey, I don’t.”

  “But Jack, the search for a cure is paramount. Our very survival depends on it. So the end justifies the means. And sure, if that means a few thousand extra people need to die while we test a vaccine, isn’t that a price worth paying? That’s progress, no?”

  “I’m not talking about all those hundreds of people you killed in the name of science, I’m talking about the women and children you executed in cold blood against the wall, murdered, right here. Those were my people. They were unarmed. They didn’t stand a chance.”

  “You think the death of your people makes the slightest bit of difference? Don’t be so sentimental. Thousands of people are dying every day.”

  He clicked his fingers repeatedly to emphasise his point, then paused and smiled, remembering something.

  “Curious to think that your people were killed by former policemen. Interesting, no?” He put his finger to his lip, tilting his head before continuing in a mocking voice, laced with irony.

  “How quickly people can change. Those same men who dedicated their lives to upholding the law could be persuaded that killing others is right and necessary. The rules of the game have changed. Wake up and hear the music, Jack. The world has changed and it is you who haven’t kept up. You bury your heads in the sand here like ostriches. You’re no better than me or anyone else. You just think you are. You and me, we’re the same. Fighting for what we believe. If you’re not careful, you’re going to find yourselves isolated and alone here. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that Camp Wight will be on the other side of the Solent. How can a bunch of fishermen like you hope to protect this castle against a whole army of trained fighting men? My men won’t give up until this place is raised to the ground. Next time, you won’t stand a chance, even with your new friends.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. We fought you off before. We’ll do it again. You really think they’ll come back and risk their lives to save you? They’ll leave you here to rot.”

  “My men won’t come back here for me. They’ll come back here again and again until your pathetic group is wiped out, all of them. So long as they have breath in their lungs, and bullets in their guns, they’ll keep coming. It’s just what they do. Your people came to Hurst to die. They just don’t know it yet.”

  Jack had taken all he could take for one day, but the man in black wasn’t finished yet, he had one last poisonous thought to share.

  “Perhaps it hasn’t occurred to you that I could be a carrier. Immune myself but infecting you and your people even now, slowly spreading the virus. Bet you didn’t think of that, right? Careless Jack, sitting so close, breathing the same air as me?”

  Jack shuddered inwardly, listening to the man in black’s hollow laugh. It had occurred to him that the girls may not be the only ones immune to the virus, but the chances of any of the rest of the hospital group being immune were a hundred-to-one. He shook his head, refusing to rise to the bait.

  “I’ll leave you to your twisted thoughts. I have better things to do than listen to the delusions of a man who’s never going to see the light of day again. We’ll talk again when I’m good and ready. Enjoy your silence and solitude. That’s all you’ll get from us,” said Jack.

  Jack had had enough of this goading. For the last few minutes, he’d been clenching his fists, tighter and tighter into balls. He could feel the veins on the side of his neck throbbing. He swore that if he spent one more minute with this man, this monster, he’d tear him limb from limb.

  He stood up too quickly, clumsily kicking over the lantern that stood between them. The glass smashed and the flame was extinguished in the dust on the ground, its wick and mounting tumbling clear. The whole room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

  Jack scrambled towards the door, feeling with his hands in front of him. He started hammering and shouting Tommy’s name, trying to keep a lid on his mounting fear. The man in black’s disembodied voice in the darkness seemed to come from multiple directions, echoing off the walls of the dry storage room.

  “Poor Jack,” he repeated, followed by that same hollow laugh.

  Jack banged louder on the door before the key turned in the lock and Tommy’s friendly face appeared in the doorway peering in to see what was happening. Jack wrenched the door open wider and barged Tommy out of the way. Tommy stood there for a second staring after Jack as he hurried away towards the stairs towards the light and fresh air, getting as far away from the man in black as he could.

  Tommy looked back into the darkness, wondering what had spooked Jack, searching out the face of the man inside. All he could see were his legs and the smashed lantern on the ground. He picked up the lamp and the larger shards of glass and slammed the door shut. He motioned for the guard to lock up again, before running after Jack.

  On the stairs, he found Jack limping heavily, breathing hard, perspiration on his forehead. He supported him through the narrow doorway to the roof of the Gun Tower. He hobbled over and found Nathan looking out over the battlements surveying the USS Chester’s progress into the calmer waters of the Sole
nt, off Yarmouth heading east towards Cowes and Southampton water. Jack snatched the walkie-talkie clipped from Nathan’s belt and depressed the talk button.

  “Peterson, it’s Jack here, over?”

  There was a few seconds delay before a voice he recognized well came back loud and clear. “Go ahead Jack.”

  “We’ve got a major problem. I don't know how, but they know. They know all about Camp Wight.”

  There was no response from Peterson so he continued, the stress obvious in his voice. “And it sounds like the story about the girls is bona fide. They do have immunity to the virus.”

  There was a long silence, while Jack checked the volume on the radio to make sure it was still transmitting and the battery hadn’t failed, before Peterson’s response came back.

  “Roger that. Jack, this is an insecure line, so be careful what you say. Let’s continue this conversation face to face. Right now we need to get those girls to a safe location.”

  “OK, One of them is safe. And we think we know where to find the other. We’re going to need some transport though.”

  There was another silence. “We’ve got our hands a little full right now, but we’ll send the chopper as soon as it can be spared. Hang in there, Jack.”