Occupation

by Dave Lacey

  They all piled into the truck. It was a British army troop carrier. “I checked it out,” Jack said to Smithy and Bill. “This thing has the extended range fuel tank. Full tank will do eight hundred and forty two miles, and it’s half full. If the rescue mission is successful, we might have enough to get most, if not all of the way home.” Bill cocked an eyebrow at Jack. Jack shook his head, “Don’t ask. I was an army geek when I was a kid.”

  Then came the conversation with what remained of their group. There was initially some dissent. Some, members of Bill’s original team included, thought it a bad idea to go after Millie and the case. Jack felt his anger rise, then reconsidered. They were right, to an extent. She had been foolish, and not for the first time. As the argument took hold and threatened to split the group, Bill dropped the bombshell. “The case also contains comms equipment that’s vital for communicating with those that live on the Moon. Without it, we can’t tell them that we have the seeds. Or anything else for that matter,” Bill said, his voice calm. “So, you decide.” He walked away from the group to the truck. It worked. There was some muttering, mostly to cover embarrassment, but they all agreed in the end that they should go after the case, and Millie.

  They then made the sickening decision to leave their dead. They couldn’t take them along, and they had no time to bury them. They stood for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, then turned and never looked back. Jack sat up front with Bill, Smithy and the woman. “So, where are we headed?” Bill asked the woman.

  “West London. That’s where Duke has his base,” she said, her voice timid. Jack couldn’t look at her, and just stared through the windscreen at the broken roads. Though his anger had settled, a cold clinical mood had taken him over. He worked through all scenarios in his head as he thought they might happen, but also knew that the one they encountered would probably be one he hadn’t even considered.

  It felt strange, being atop a vehicle again after eight years. And it was a blessing for his damaged ankle. As he sat with one foot on the dash, Millie’s face popped into his head. His stomach turned over, butterflies fluttering through it. He tensed. God, how could she have been so stupid? He thought to himself. His hand gripped the seat cover so hard he felt it squeaking beneath his grip.

  You always had to be the hero, sis. Well, now they were in the shit. He stared at the scenery as it passed by. Now they were in what used to be more populated areas, it looked less easy on the eye. The ground was pock marked with holes where ordnance had discharged. It was likely to have been ‘Lander fire, but possibly some of their own, intended to defend the country.

  “Why do you stay there if you don’t like him?” Bill asked, breaking into Jack’s thoughts. She turned to Bill and gave him a searching look.

  “What should I do? Run away, find another community?”

  “Why not? There must be more in London?” Bill replied. The woman snorted a harsh laugh.

  “There are, but what makes you think they’re any better?” Bill just nodded and turned back to the road. The woman looked at Jack now and again, fear in her eyes. Good, thought Jack, that’s the way I need it to be. Jack stared at her, then spoke.

  “What will he do to her?” he asked

  The woman blushed and looked away. “I don’t know. I really don’t know,” she said.

  “I think you have a good idea, and I think you should tell me,” Jack persisted.

  She closed her eyes, her head still facing the windscreen in front of her.

  “Tell me,” he said again.

  She opened her eyes, but was not seeing what was outside the truck. “It’s likely he’ll torture her,” she said, her voice soft. “And he’ll probably… you know…” She trailed off. Jack watched as Smithy’s jaw clenched tight and he took a deep breath.

  Jack turned to look out of the window and swallowed down his anger. “Yeah, I think I do,” he said, his nostrils flaring.

  “And then, I think then he’ll kill her,” the woman said, and it was Jack’s turn to close his eyes. “Well, thank you for being honest. I suppose,” he said finally. After a moment of silence, Bill picked up the thread. “How many does he have there? How many soldiers?” His years of experience took over as his mind sought an advantage.

  The woman shook her head. “I don’t know, maybe a hundred and fifty, or two hundred,” she replied, looking at him now. “You can’t win. He’s too… mad and has too many people.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “He’s insane. I hate him so much,” she said, soft as a breeze.

  “Why the hell doesn’t someone kill him then?” he said, his eyes wide with anger.

  “Because too many of them love him, revere him even. We’d die almost as quickly as he would. And he’s big, strong and alert. He knows things.” She paused. “I thought about it, from time to time. But then the fear would come for me.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She sniffed and brushed it away. Jack felt a flush of shame rise up his neck, but he couldn’t capitulate just yet. They still needed her.

  “So you’d have left, if you’d had the choice?” Bill asked.

  “Yes, yes I would. If I thought I could.” She glanced sideways at Jack, but addressed Bill. “The man you left behind, he was of the same mind. We wouldn’t talk, because we were afraid Duke would kill us if you found him.” She paused. “And if you don’t defeat him, if you don’t get your friend back, he will kill us.” Jack felt bad, but consoled himself with the thought that they had been part of the attack party.

  It took them six hours in all to reach Duke’s base. It should have taken half that time, but many times they had to retrace their route because the roads had been impassable.

  “What’s the best way to reach him without him knowing?” Jack asked as they slowed to a crawl. Smithy had not spoken during the entire journey. He had just sat and radiated anger.

  “Through the underground. The tunnels are guarded, but not heavily,” she said.

  “And will the guards know you didn’t make it back with the rest of them?” Bill asked.

  “I don’t know. Probably not.”

  “Good. What’s your name?” Jack asked.

  “Debbie,” she replied.

  “Okay, Debbie,” said Jack, conveying the seriousness he felt with his eyes. “You’re our way in. You’ll go first, and talk us in.”

  “Will you kill them? The ones that guard the tunnels?” she asked.

  “Not if we can help it,” Bill answered. “We don’t kill for fun, Debbie. We only do it if it’s necessary.” Bill took a breath. “Our mission was a simple one, and it has repercussions for all of us. If we succeed. But, Duke, is that his name?” Debbie nodded. “Duke has our case, and one of our team, and we have to get both back.”

  “What’s in the case?” Debbie asked.

  Bill pursed his lips, considering his answer. “Seeds.”

  “Seeds?” Debbie frowned. “You mean for planting?” she asked.

  Jack nodded, but Bill answered. “Yup, exactly that.”

  “You travelled here from…” she said, still frowning.

  “From Liverpool,” Jack said, knowing what she was thinking.

  “From Liverpool, for seeds?” Debbie asked, her face full of disbelief.

  “Yeah, I know it sounds mad, but there you have it. We came all this way for seeds.”

  Chapter 33

  “We should wait for them,” Vinnie said out loud in the cab. Duke turned in his seat to look at him.

  “No, we take them on our ground, on our terms.”

  “But we could end it with an ambush. We could take them before they find out where we are based.” Vinnie knew he would have to stop trying to change Duke’s mind before Duke became riled.

  “No.” Duke turned to look out of the windscreen once more, the headlights lighting the way. “If we wait here, there is no guarantee that they will come this way. They might get in behind us, find our nest. No, this is the right way. This is the way we will do it,” Duke said, the final word.

  “Wha
t about the case?” Vinnie asked. “We should open it now.”

  Duke took a deep breath, closing his eyes, then replied. “What if it contains something harmful?” he said.

  Vinnie swallowed, an old nervous tick under his eye starting up. Duke never asked reasonable questions. Vinnie felt he might be on the edge of an abyss.

  “What if they have a chemical weapon in there?” Duke continued. “What if they plan to use it on the ‘Landers? What if it kills us all when we try to smash open the case? What then?” Duke’s voice had risen in volume and aggression until Vinnie quailed. When he stopped speaking, the only sound was the distant rumble of the diesel engine.

  Bill decided they had reached a point where it seemed right to hide the truck. They found an almost still intact warehouse, roofless, but it would provide cover. Inside they found sheets of corrugated steel, tarpaulins and rope. They took the rope, leaned the corrugated steel against the sides of the truck, and draped the tarpaulin over the top.

  Standing back to admire their work, Bill spoke for the first time in half an hour. “It’ll do,” he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger.

  “So,” began Jack, folding his arms, “this means of contacting the Moon, how does it work?”

  Bill chewed on nothing, continuing to look at the now camouflaged truck. “There’s a laser sighter, at Jodrell Bank. It’s been there for years. It was purportedly used to measure how far the Moon is away from the Earth, but it also allows basic communication between the Earth and the Moon.” Bill fell silent.

  Jack looked confused. He considered the possibility that Millie might have known about the comms equipment. “And in the case?” he asked.

  “The means to activate and the codes to access the link.” Bill stared at him, then went on. “We have to let them know we have what they want. Without the case, we have no means of contacting them,” Bill said, holding out his hands palm up and shrugging.

  “And of course our new friend won’t know what it all means and will likely destroy it.” Jack paused, then asked the question that had been bothering him, “Did Millie know?” he asked, his eyes locking with Bill’s.

  “No, she didn’t. It was just a genuine attempt to get the case back. And yes, I would imagine he will. From what we’ve seen and heard, he’s not terribly sophisticated. I don’t think he’ll give a shit about what’s in it, it’ll just be about revenge.”

  “But it locks though?” Jack asked. “The case, I mean.”

  Bill nodded, and pulled a face. “But how long do you think the lock will hold out against his determination?” he asked.

  “Then we need to get moving.” Jack turned away from Bill and shouted out his orders. Bill paused a second, then shrugged and turned to Smithy. “You okay?” he asked.

  Smithy looked up, his face tense with worry. “Not especially. I just want to get her back. And all this standing around is getting us nowhere quickly.” Smithy said, his voice had a raw edge to it. Bill nodded.

  “Okay, we’re moving out now. We’ll do our best.” Bill said, knowing it was a pathetic answer.

  Twenty minutes later, Debbie led them through broken streets, heading for a tube entrance unused by the public.

  “It was a staff entrance,” she explained. “Used to access the maintenance tunnels that allowed the underground workers to get around without bumping into the public all the time.” Debbie was animated now, feeling useful and important. “We’ve used it to get around the city, the tunnel network that is. There’s no need to use the staff access tunnels anymore, except to get in and out. The traditional stations have all been blocked up. Different groups over the years blew out the access points and bricked up the tunnels. It stops the ‘Landers from finding a way in too easily.”

  “So, how many guards will Duke have out for us?” Jack asked.

  Debbie shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe two at each tunnel that leads out from our base?” she guessed.

  “And how many guards might that be?” Jack asked.

  “Twenty all told,” she said. Jack frowned. “But if we pick the right one, it will be far enough from the other guards that they won’t know we’re there,” she added hurriedly.

  “We? Are you one of us now, Debbie?” Jack asked, his voice a little hard. He wasn’t sure why.

  She blushed, not sure how to respond, then felt anger take over. “Well, I have no place now with Duke, he’d kill me either way. So when you did what you did, you gave me no choice,” she said, her voice stronger than the blush might have suggested. “I would never have chosen to be part of what he is. What he does.” She stopped, remembering things that Jack could only guess at. “He found my original community. He killed half of us, and gave the rest a choice. Join, or die.” She paused. “I joined. We do what we need to do to survive.” She stopped, blushing again and staring defiantly. “So you tell me, am I one of you now?” Jack was a little taken aback by her sudden change of demeanour. And a little impressed.

  “That, I’m afraid,” said Jack, “is not my decision. Not in the short term, anyway. Bill’s in charge, and what he says goes.” Debbie closed her eyes, and Jack softened. He could see what she was risking. He made a quick decision. “You know what, it’s fine. If you want to come with us, then you should. I’ll sort things out with Bill.” Debbie smiled.

  “Thank you Jack, thank you,” she said, shy again.

  They stopped with the crunch of gravel under foot and the knocking of equipment. They stood outside what was left of a nondescript building. From what remained of signage, it had been a high street bank to one side and a takeaway shop on the other. Debbie moved forward and crossed the threshold, into darkness.

  The others followed, glass and dried-out pieces of wood crunching underfoot, regardless of how clandestine they tried to be. She moved towards the back of the first room and then into a long corridor with no ceiling and jagged topped walls. At its end, they could see a door, padlocked and chained shut. Debbie turned and spoke quietly to Bill, who called for Nick to come forward. Nick did so, taking bolt cutters with him. Two minutes later, they were descending spiral concrete steps into the decrepit womb of Greater London.

  As the staircase continued to wind deeper into the earth, the air became more humid and Jack began to feel a sweat breaking out across his forehead, chest and back. Oddly, although the darkness became inkier with each step, Jack began to feel lighter, relieved of a burden. He realized that life below the earth had given him a degree of comfort he had been missing since they left home. Things were different above ground. It was nice to experience it, but there was something missing too. He felt safe underground, very safe, and the same dependence could not be found above it.

  As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, Jack realized there was light down here. Low-wattage solar lights had been hooked up at regular intervals, fed from panels above ground, he assumed. He had used them sometimes when investigating buildings far from home. It was hardly floodlighting, but it worked to some extent. It gave the tunnels a surreal, ethereal glow about them. The walls were mortuary tiled, mile after mile of neatly laid walls and darker, more resilient floors. As they walked, Jack ran a hand along the wall, and wondered at the fact that it was so neat it could have been done yesterday.

  Over the clump of their booted feet came the sound of water flowing in a steady stream. Somehow, though, the floor remained water free. Jack marvelled at man’s ingenuity and feats of engineering. To have created all this, and kept it going for as long as it had, even in disuse, was nothing short of remarkable. The immense warren of tunnels that had served London for one hundred and fifty years, allowing its inhabitants to traverse the city day after day, year after year were still here, allowing them to find their way to the target. And Millie.

  As they went, waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness, they had to pray that they adjusted equally well to the smell. It was an amalgamation of different smells to be more precise. It clung to the inside of the nostrils and the back of t
he throat. They truly were into the bowels of London now. Jack guessed it came from long dead bodies, stagnant water and whatever else had died here. Every now and then came the sound of something splashing in the water and swimming away. Jack felt the buzz of adrenaline. Rats.

  He couldn’t think of too many more nerve shredding thoughts than rats in the dark. Scurrying about, never seeing them, but hearing them. The squeak, the scratch of their feet, the gnawing. And it sounded as though they had the advantage in terms of numbers too. Then, distracting him from his fear, hand gestures came from the front of the line, urging them to slow down and make less noise. As Jack looked ahead, towards the bend in the tunnel, he could see shadows playing on the wall.

  Bill hesitated for a moment, unable to decide what to do. Then he signalled for Smithy and Mark to follow him. Together, the three of them moved forward slowly. Even in the dim light cast by the tunnel system, the shadows looked huge. Then, gradually, they heard voices.

  It appeared there were two guards around the corner at least. Bill, Mark and Smithy edged forward. They moved forward in a crouch. Jack licked his lips, brushing the sweat from his eyes. He watched the shadows intently, looking for any indication that the guards had heard his team members creeping up on them.

  He needn’t have worried. From the noise and their actions, they were clearly drunk. Duke would have killed them if he’d known, and maybe they would die anyway. Twenty seconds later, it was over. Bill waved the rest of the team forward. The two guards lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Mark and Smithy were busy binding their hands and feet, then gagged them.

  “That should hold them for as long as it takes,” Bill muttered.

  “How much further until we reach the next lot of guards?” Jack asked, his question directed at Debbie. “I can’t be certain,” she admitted. “It could be a few miles, or a few minutes. Duke has a habit of surprising you. He may have been more paranoid than usual, or more distracted.”