The cavern from which the convoy would be leaving was an impressive sight.
The “secret underground base”, harshly lit by industrial lighting, its walls lined with tanks and other deadly looking vehicles, and with soldiers hurrying back and forth, reminded me of a scene from a James Bond movie. If Bond himself had suddenly abseiled from the ceiling with the intention of interrupting some evil villain’s plans for world domination, he probably wouldn’t have looked out of place.
Shaking Jon’s hand, I got into the first armoured vehicle and waited for Jerry to climb on board. As we were leaving at night, we would be travelling without lights, using night vision.
To adjust everyone’s eyes to the darkness, once all unnecessary personnel had left the cavern, all the lights were switched off. The standard procedure was to wait for thirty minutes, to give the human eye the optimum time to adjust to the conditions. We sat patiently in the vehicle, a small red light providing the only illumination. It was good practice to get everyone’s eyes to their optimum night vision. If we encountered a problem, or were attacked and had to leave the vehicle, good night vision could mean the difference between life and death.
Once the thirty minutes were up and the all clear had been given by the UAV operator and the sentries patrolling the perimeter, the vehicles started up their engines. After a last good luck message from Colonel Moore, the convoy exited the caverns and began the journey home.
Travelling in the back of the vehicle meant that there were no external reference points, so we were reliant upon the driver or Lieutenant Turner to update us on the journey’s progress.
After the initial slow and silent drive through the area just outside the base it was a relief to pick up speed. Although I’d only been away a few days, I could feel the excitement building at the thought of seeing my family again.
It was an uneventful journey and as always, when you are excited about reaching your destination, it seemed to take hours longer than the journey we’d made to the base a few days before.
Barry turned to us. “Ten minutes, guys. I’ve just spoken to them and they know we’re close.”
Jerry, who was just as excited as I was, grinned at me. I asked the soldier who was sitting next to me what the time was. It was half past four in the morning. We leaned forward and tried to peer through the darkness ahead of us. As the vehicle slowed to a halt and Barry spoke to someone outside, we stood up. Looking at us he smiled and said, “We’re here. Give us thirty seconds to get through the perimeter and parked up, and then you can get out.”
When the engines stopped and the rear doors opened, Jerry and I were the first to exit the vehicle. The temporary lights on the road had been turned on and we blinked as our eyes adjusted to the bright light.
Looking around, I saw Becky, Stanley and Daisy standing there. They were looking at me, but as I was wearing full military kit and helmet, they hadn’t recognised me. It was only when I called their names and waved at them that they realised who I was. Stanley and Daisy immediately launched themselves at me, shouting “Daddy!” and hugged me just as fiercely as I was hugging them. Becky stepped forward a little more sedately and gave me a quick kiss, conscious that all the soldiers and civilians disembarking from the vehicles were staring at us. Ignoring them, and accompanied by a few cheers and an “Uurggh dad!” from my children, I grabbed her, gave her a big kiss and whispered “missed you!” in her ear. Jerry and Fiona, I noticed, were doing the same.
When I finally looked round, a crowd was gathering. The excitement of another arrival on the road had brought most people out early to greet us. Prince Harry and Captain Berry walked over, and after an exchange of salutes with the new arrivals, they turned to us and shook our hands.
There was a cold wind blowing and the temperature was below freezing, so I suggested that we at least go and shelter in the kitchen area. As I walked down the road, holding my children’s hands, I suddenly realised how tired I was. I was home, and the adrenaline and excitement that had kept me awake drained from my body.
Turning to Harry and Paul, I told them I would grab a few hours’ sleep and catch up with them in the morning.
I knew I probably wouldn’t sleep, but at least I could spend some time with my family before throwing myself back into the life of the community.
I spent a happy couple of hours cuddling up and chatting to the kids and Becky, until early in the morning, Stanley and Daisy finally drifted off to sleep, exhausted after all the excitement. Becky and I spent a quiet hour together before venturing out to the kitchen area.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Although I’d only been away for a few days, it felt good to be back. As dawn broke and the day grew lighter, I could already see that a few changes had been made. The kitchen and eating area had been expanded and reorganised, most likely to create more space to cater for our greatly expanded population. It all looked a bit more solid and better built than before. Light fittings hung from the ceiling rafters and a log burner had been installed. Even though it was cold and blustery outside, it felt reasonably warm and cosy.
The log burner looked familiar and I realised that it was the one from the “Prince of Wales” pub at the top of the road. It was an impressive looking thing and had been used to heat their large outside area. From memory, it had also kicked out a lot of heat. No wonder it felt warm in there.
I sat at a table eating my breakfast, and it felt good to see all the familiar and friendly faces again. I’d spent some time catching up with everyone. Pete and Allan walked in and came over to join me. Allan still looked like one of the happiest men on Earth, and when I mentioned Michelle his smile got even bigger. They filled me in on what had happened in the last few days. The main event had obviously been the attack on Gumin. Pete had already met with the newly elected leader of the group.
The group still had a lot of issues to deal with. A number of families and individuals had left the community, either unwilling or unable to forgive and forget what had happened. Pete thought that those who remained stood a chance of making a workable community. The warehouse had offered up an impressive amount of supplies and food so that was the least of their worries.
The army had rebuilt their fences and Pete and Captain Berry were helping them out with their security arrangements. It would be hard work for them, particularly given the circumstances that had brought them all together, but Pete had faith that with the right support, they would get there.
Allan was delighted about the plans for improving our defences and had nothing but praise for the army engineers. The improvements to the kitchen area had only taken just over a day, and they had all worked well together. Some of the work had already been done on the defences, but he was eager to see if we’d brought along the supplies that the engineers had asked for, and was looking forward to starting the work as soon as possible. When I mentioned the weapons Jon had allowed us to have, he got so excited I thought he was going to dance a jig on the tables.
I steered the conversation around to something that had occurred to me the day before, when I’d met the new visitors we were going to host.
Given all the extra help we were now receiving from the British Government, both in supplies and manpower, would our needs, wants and expectations, as individuals and as a group, change? Would we still be able to hold together as a united group?
Pete looked pensive for a while and then nodded at me and changed the subject. As it was New Year’s Eve, in my absence, the community had voted to invite the nearest groups to join us in marking the passing of another year. The majority of the people in these groups were taking up Jon’s offer and were planning to return to the base and help to start the recovery. We’d got to know some of them reasonably well over the past few months, so it would be a farewell party as well.
They’d received no confirmation of a leaving date as yet. The ambush we’d experienced and the attack on Gumin had taken up a lot of the planners’ valuable time, but they’d received assurances that the o
ffer still stood and would happen as soon as possible.
Pete planned to keep the same rotas as on Christmas Day. We would still maintain the sentries but he would arrange for the shifts to be shorter to give everyone a chance to join in.
All the groups that had accepted the invitation to the New Year party had been told to arrive any time after four pm.
They would be welcome to stay as long as they wanted, and if they didn’t feel able to return to their location we would find a bed or couch for them to sleep on.
By now most of the community had gathered in the kitchen area, and as had become the tradition, Pete allocated everyone’s daily tasks. Scavenging had been suspended since the recent attacks while we concentrated on improving our defences.
Apart from the people allocated to kitchen, sentry or woodcutting duties, everyone else was working with Allan and the soldiers. The morning classes had also been suspended for the day, so Pete organised the eager children into various groups and sent them off on useful tasks which would keep them from getting under our feet.
Spotting Chris Garland, I beckoned him over and introduced him to Pete and Allan. I’d told them all about him in a previous radio conversation, and they’d agreed that having him here was a great idea. I asked him if he wanted to join me on the tour I was arranging for the new arrivals.
“I’d love to,” he said, “But my ankle’s throbbing after yesterday and Jerry’s just caught me hobbling as I was making my way here. He called me an idiot and told me if I didn’t rest it today and take some anti-inflammatories, he’d ground me for even longer, so I’m stuck here.”
Pete replied, “Don’t worry Chris, it just means you’re stuck with me. I need to have a chat with you about how you want to run these training courses. If we can start planning them now, I can reorganise the rotas to make sure they’re scheduled in.”
“Scheduled in? It all sounds very efficient here.”
As Allan and I left to start the day’s tasks, I waited until I was out of accurate throwing range and turned to them both.
“Don’t worry, Chris, you’ll soon realise how it works around here. General Pete’s only happy when he knows all his subjects are working themselves into an early grave.”
As I pretended to run for cover, I heard Pete shouting comments such as “monkey” and “organ grinder” and “dog” and “bark”.
Prince Harry accompanied me on the tour. While I showed the ten new arrivals around the entire compound and the area just outside the walls, I ran through the different routines and the jobs that we were expected to do.
Harry did the same with the soldiers, describing how the two groups of civilians and military personnel cooperated and worked together. He gave them instructions about the expected code of conduct and how, for the sake of harmony between the two groups, things ran slightly differently to how they usually did on a military base.
Once the tour was completed, Harry and I and the visitors went to help Allan.
Improvements had been made to the main perimeter fence over the last day or two, by adding extra coils of razor wire. Further refinements were planned, but the first major change would be to the row of cars we’d used as our first line of defence all those months ago. It had proved a success and helped us fight off the first attack by the gang from St Agnes Rd. But it had also made a useful barrier for our hostile visitors on Christmas Day to hide behind.
The proposal was to remove the cars from both ends of the road and replace them with an anti-climb wire fence, topped with razor wire. Aware that there was a large quantity in storage at the base, the engineers had lost no time in requesting that it be included in the convoy. We would have a clear view of the road and it would make it much harder for anyone to approach unseen. Removing the cars would be easy given the extra help we had on hand, but careful thought would have to be given to where the cars should be removed to, as Allan didn’t want them carelessly dumped in the wrong place.
The tools the engineers had brought with them made the job of digging post holes easy, and in no time at all, posts were being driven into the ground and fixed with the remaining bags of fast-setting post-fix I’d ordered just before the EMP hit.
The cold wind was really biting and there was an occasional flurry of snow. Without the advantage of weather forecasting, which now consisted of looking out of the window every morning to see what the weather was doing, it felt as if a proper snow fall might be on the way. Even with the heat generated by hard work and the hot drinks we had on our brief rest breaks, we were all shivering, and it made us wonder how people less fortunate than ourselves would be faring now that winter was really taking hold.
Everyone worked furiously to get the fence finished before the end of the day, and finally, just before the first neighbouring group arrived, we all stood back to admire our work.
Without ladders, the fence was a virtually unscalable barrier and looked very impressive. It was forbidding enough to be a deterrent in its own right. It was a shame that there wasn’t enough of it available to encircle us completely.
As the first guests began to arrive, the work stopped, and after a quick wash and change, we all congregated in the kitchen area, if not to celebrate, then to mark the passing of the year that had changed the world forever.
The evening was a great success and proved that you cannot repress the human spirit. We’d forged a new way of life after the world had slipped into darkness and we’d lost friends and been forced to kill in order to protect ourselves.
We’d made new friends and created communities to help protect each other and stand together against all the known and unknown dangers we would be facing in the future. We lived life on the edge, constantly looking over our shoulders, always expecting a new problem or danger to arise. It was difficult to relax, as you never knew when you’d be called upon to defend your community. When I thought about it, we should all have been nervous wrecks!
But in spite of it all, once you had a group of people together in one room, and you gave them a secure environment, even if some of them were strangers, the natural human need for interaction took over and the fun began (helped by a liberal application of alcohol!)
The kitchen area was alive with conversation and laughter. Although the cold wind occasionally found its way in, it did nothing to dampen anyone’s spirits and soon hidden talents were emerging, musical instruments were appearing and an impromptu band started up. The singing was as enthusiastic as the playing and a great time was had by all.
The only time the mood became sombre was just before midnight, when Prince Harry stood up and called for silence. He asked for a minute of reflection or prayer before the clock struck twelve.
Families gathered together, held hands or hugged, and it wasn’t long before tears were streaming down everyone’s faces, as lost loved ones were remembered.
For the first time since the BBC had first broadcast it, in 1923, the New Year wasn’t marked by the chiming of Big Ben. Instead, Prince Harry, in his ceremonial uniform, fired his pistol into the air. The gunshot snapped us out of our sombre mood, and determined to find joy out of the sorrow we were feeling, we all launched into several choruses of “Auld Lang Syne”, which became louder and more raucous every time we sang it.
Nobody seemed to want the party to end, perhaps because we’d be back to reality in the morning, so it was very late by the time most people went to bed.
After my drinking session on Christmas Day, I’d volunteered for the late night guard shift to give other people the chance to enjoy themselves. (I was also feeling guilty about the evenings I’d spent at the base enjoying myself in the pub). Making sure that Stanley and Daisy, who by now were both exhausted, were tucked up in bed, I joined Paul, who had also volunteered for the late shift on the barricades.
Having not slept for over twenty-four hours, it took a lot of coffee to keep me awake.
We sat in the sentry box, listening to the revelry behind us and sheltering from the biting wind and the snow
that had begun to fall steadily. Paul told me that until the soldiers who were due to be relieved had returned to base with the return convoy, he planned to take advantage of the extra manpower he had available and attack the farmhouse where we knew the people who had ambushed us were based.
The plan hadn’t changed from the one I’d been told about previously. The following night Paul would surround the farmhouse with a strong force of men and vehicles. Just before daybreak, a UAV would launch a few missiles to destroy the building. If necessary, he would follow these up with a volley of AT4 anti-bunker shoulder-launched missiles, before sending in the troops to clear up.
It was a simple plan, and with the technology and weaponry we had at our disposal, it should pose the least risk to his soldiers.
After finishing my guard duty I collapsed, exhausted, into bed and didn’t wake up until around midday.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
The following day started late for most of the community, as hangovers were being nursed. About six inches of snow lay on the ground and it was still falling steadily. The tracks left by the other groups, as they slowly made their way home after a hearty breakfast, soon disappeared.
Most of the soldiers were busy preparing for the attack on the farmhouse, and Pete, realising that some members of the community were suffering from a general lack of enthusiasm, gave up and declared a day of rest. The adults mostly sat around the fires at home and chatted, while the children made snowmen and engaged in snowball fights.
During the afternoon, I sought out Paul and asked if he would need any help from the community in the upcoming attack. He said he didn’t need any help with the actual mission, but if we could take over some of the sentry duties, it would free up more soldiers to take part in the attack.
I spoke to Pete, and he willingly set about re-working the rotas and rounding up more volunteer sentries.
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