Mrs. Sayer screamed and pulled her raucous children close, shouting, ‘They’ve come! They’ve come!’ She disappeared with them out into the courtyard, stirring the current of anxiety in her wake.
Her exit disturbed the other patrons, and the few who weren’t already standing did so, fearful she was indeed right: that they had been found unawares, that the authorities had finally discovered them whilst they enjoyed an evening in the pub, that their years of rehearsing for this moment was for nothing.
Like a crucifix-wielding priest, Semilion snatched a shotgun from behind the bar and levelled it at the two women who had appeared from the foyer. Baron retrieved an old cricket bat and prepared himself for a seemingly inevitable invasion.
Breaker, who lay between Ted’s legs, growled. Selina and Priya looked disbelievingly at the agape mouths of those in the pub.
‘I don’t think we’re much welcome here, we’d best move on...’ Priya said, though Selina hardly heard the words, her gaze was on the dark mouth of the shotgun barrel directed squarely at her face. It was several metres away though would easily tear both their faces to pieces no matter which it were aimed at.
Ted Corbin remained frozen, his face joining the colour of his grey hair. Since childhood he, and everyone in the room, had been taught to fear strangers. Strangers bring death and disease, they were told. Strangers kill everyone you love.
Selina noticed he was trembling, that others were pale and trembling also. A flare of enlightenment struck her, an instinctive realisation they were suffering the initial shivers of carnivora flu. But if that was so, then why were there so many people here a century after the outbreak? And why on earth, Selina thought as her eyes fell on Breaker, were they sheltering a dog?
The sight struck her immobile. Old-fashioned newsreels flashed in her memory, dogs tearing through the city streets of all nations, their eyes streaming puss and their snarling muzzles creased with ferocity. Caged hounds in white laboratories, roaring and thrashing relentlessly. The yellow powder employed to combat them filling the thoroughfares with pallid smog, the vicious cries unyielding until their last breath.
She had never seen a dog in the flesh before, the culling of the last century meant they were only to be found in research facilities, though she had been conditioned from childhood to fear them.
She had spent the day coming to terms with the notion they were in a contaminated region. Now she battled with the concept that it couldn’t be; there wouldn’t be people here if it were so!There couldn’t be a pub full of healthy individuals drinking and laughing, there just couldn’t be, not in a county under quarantine. There must have been some mistake, she must have been right when she had considered their being in Wales, she must have been right to think they had been looking in on the quarantine wire instead of looking out; they must have simply come to a particularly rough neighbourhood, and the locals’ obviously didn’t take kindly to tourists. She put her hands up, slowly, and said, ‘Sorry, we didn’t mean to intrude, we’ll keep going...’
Semilion blinked, his heart racing. ‘No you don’t.’ He shouted. ‘Don’t you go anywhere!’
Jasmine Sooth had been watching them intently. She stood and pulled Benjamin’s head into her waist. ‘Don’t talk to them like that,’ she said, her voice light yet no less stern than his.
He spat, ‘Shut up, Jasmine!’
‘They don’t know of the life here,’ she continued, ‘there’s been a mistake.’
‘I said shut up!’ For a moment it looked as though the barrel of the gun would be turned on her and she sat down quietly, smoothing Benjamin’s hair.
Suddenly the door burst open and young Angela Corbin pushed passed Priya and Selina. An explosion split the room as the gun fired, though Semilion wrenched the barrel away in time and rent an ugly chasm in the uppermost frame of the door without harming anyone. Selina and Priya ducked and threw curses at Semilion, who was visibly anxious, directing the remaining cartridge between both of them. He barked at them to keep quiet, and Angela, crouched on the floor with her hands over her head, peeped up and shouted over all of them.
‘It’s ma!’ She screamed, her eyes wide with fear. ‘Quick! Someone’s got to help! She’s in labour!’
Semilion blinked. ‘Was there anyone else outside, Angela?’
‘Wh.. No! There’s no-one.
‘You didn’t see anything?’
‘There’s no-one! Why?’ she turned and gasped when she saw Selina and Priya, and backed from them to the bar.
Confused, he bore the gun on Evelyn Rolinger and Amber Summer, who turned their faces away before he abruptly lowered the barrel. ‘Go and help Dawn. Stay away from here for the rest of the night.’
They stood nervously and cautiously made to leave; as they passed the bar Semilion gave them a decanter of brandy.
Evelyn and Amber ushered Angela from the pub, everyone listened to hear whether they would be accosted by others, but nothing came.
Jasmine Sooth looked at Semilion and took Benjamin by the hand before stepping through the speechless patrons. She put her hand on Ted’s shoulder and eased him aside. She smiled warmly at the strangers, and then stepped out into the street.
Silenced by shock and the presence of the smoking shotgun, all watched the women with clenched stomachs and thumping hearts. Were there more lying in wait? They had heard stories of the outside world since childhood, had been told how it was imperative that none should know of their existence, but now they were confronted with the scenario of being discovered they didn’t understand what could possibly happen next. What could the outside world do to them? Re-home them? Arrest them? Now the unthinkable had happened there didn’t seem to be anything that could realistically follow.
Semilion saw the nervous look in the eyes of his patrons and lay the gun slowly to the bar. He composed himself and told the two women to stand aside and then turned to the villagers before asking them to leave. They refused, demanding to know what was happening, who the women were and if there were more. Did they come with the lights the previous night? What if they brought the flu with them? When had they been discovered? None wanted to leave, and it took several attempts and a promise that a council would be held in the morning before Semilion managed to get them to leave, reminding them that they must secure their homes from a possible raid. When the last patron left, eyeing Selina suspiciously, Baron shut the front door and locked it with a heavy rod.
The sound of the deadbolt made Selina’s heart plummet. Baron saw the look of dread on her face and smirked. He returned with the cricket bat and sat at the bar, watching Priya with carnivorous eyes. ‘Let me take them to the cells,’ he said, taking a paper cigarette and striking a match. ‘We can find out who they are down there.’
Semilion raised his hand to indicate he was thinking. He closed the foyer door and looked at his guests earnestly. ‘Who are you?’ He said, trying to level his turbulent speech.
They answered him as though being admonished by a schoolmaster.
‘Who sent you?’
‘Who sent us? What are you talking about?’ Selina answered, frowning at Priya.
‘You’re certainly not from Lundy. You’re obviously from across the border. Who sent you?’
‘We were on a ship that sank the night before last,’ Priya answered.
Semilion looked at them both for a long time, searching their eyes for a flicker of deceit. He only saw disbelief and apprehension. His heart still pounded and he could feel sweat itching the back of his neck. He had been convinced that they were some kind of reconnaissance and his long prepared plans, the plans written down by his grandfathers, had slid through his mind like oil through an engine. But castaways? There had never been any contingency for castaways, no-one in a hundred years had considered it.
‘How many? He said, fearing an influx of passengers whom would bring search parties, helicopters, rescue ships, and hundreds of prying eyes to decimate the community.
‘As far as we know we’re the only survivors,’
He wiped his clammy neck. ‘As far as we know’ wasn’t as absolute as he would like.
‘Did you swim here?’
‘We were both unconscious, there was an explosion on board… we don’t know what happened. We woke up on the beach, not far from here… maybe two miles…’
‘Does anyone know you’re here?’
‘No-one knows,’ Priya said, ‘though I can’t speak for the crew of the ship. They may have sent a distress call, though I doubt it, ultimately it was an immigrant haul.’
Semilion pondered this for a moment. If they had been shipwrecked in the storm, now almost two days previous, then the coastguard would have been sent to find the ship by now, yet nothing had been reported. ‘Have you got radios? Did you speak to anyone of where you are?’
‘No,’ Priya said, Selina shook her head.
Baron took a long drag on his cigarette and pointed at Priya. ‘Where’ve you been since yesterday morning?’ Semilion looked at him and Baron shrugged, ‘If they woke up two miles away where’ve they been all this time?’
Semilion turned back to them with a raised brow. ‘It’s a fair question.’
Priya stepped away and took a seat. ‘We didn’t know where the hell we were. If we’d have known this place was here we might have avoided it altogether!’
‘We walked South all yesterday,’ Selina added, trying to avoid confrontation.
‘Then just happened to turn back and come straight here?’
‘That’s enough, Baron.’ Semilion said, pointing at his son. ‘I don’t want to hear any more from you.’
‘This is bullshit,’ Baron sneered, pointing the cricket bat in their direction. ‘They should be in the cells. What if something happens now and we don’t have them locked up?’
‘What’s he talking about?’ Priya said, turning to Semilion.
‘Baron, get out!’ Semilion opened the door and glowered at him.
Baron sat scowling at Priya for a few moments before spitting on the floor in her direction and skulking from the room.
‘Wait outside!’ Semilion ordered, cuffing his son about the head before locking the door and taking a seat. ‘As much as I don’t agree with his relish in saying it, we do have procedures for times like this…’ he fell into silence again, looking at them both as though he had crested a summit of bewilderment. ‘I don’t know what your intentions are, or whether you even have any… you might be telling the truth but I’m not in a position to simply let you leave here…’
‘You’re not in a position to stop us!’ Priya began, but a severe look overshadowed his guise of concern and she hesitated.
‘You’ve been here all this time and no-one’s found you?’ Selina said, realisation catching up with her. She turned to Priya, who shrugged as though she had understood the moment they walked into the barrel of the shotgun. ‘But it’s on the news all the time, miles of countryside gets taken back every year the world over… how do you escape them? We saw one of those spheres earlier, how do you avoid them?’
‘Procedure and policy.’ He said, as though it explained it all.
There was a library filled with strategy composed in the beginning by the community’s great-grandfather’s generation. They compiled practices to keep the community secluded and out of harm’s way, and offered material that would secure the survival of countless generations.
‘Practices to keep us alive, to farm out of the observation of satellites, to keep us hidden and to give us the advantage should all these things fail; and it’s keeping the advantage that my son was alluding to. We have a solid policy of detaining anyone who comes here and to use them as leverage should the worst case scenario present itself.’
‘The worst case scenario being?’ Priya asked.
‘The authorities following in your footsteps, of course.’
‘And by ‘the authorities’ I suppose you mean the British military?
‘Or constabulary.’
‘Why would they come after us? I’m from Australia, Selina’s a citizen of New Zealand. We were travelling illegally on an unauthorized vessel. If we’d been detected the military would have sunk us without a second thought! What on earth makes you think they would be interested in us now?’
Semilion took an old tin from his pocket and began rolling a cigarette. ‘The people in this community have survived unnoticed for three generations because they’ve followed our procedures. They’ve had it taught to them since childhood; I’m not going to break away from it just because it doesn’t suit you. I’ve got the bigger picture to think about. I can’t have the community thinking it’s acceptable to simply pick and choose which policies to adhere to, we’d be uncovered in no time.’ He watched them both for a short while through the haze of smoke. They understood that he was deliberating the severity of what was to follow.
He dropped the cigarette on the floorboards and crushed it under the heel of his boot. ‘There’s nothing else to say. I have to put you in the cells. Overnight, at least.’
‘I don’t think so!’ Priya barked. She thrust him a rigid finger. ‘If you come anywhere near me I’m going to break your teeth.’
Selina sat on the corner of a table, hoping she might be forgotten if she refrained from the altercation.
‘It won’t be for long,’ Semilion hissed, not wishing the entire village to hear. ‘Just for the night, so people can see I’ve not strayed from policy.’
‘What kind of policy is it to shut us in a cell?’
Selina answered, ‘He already said. As leverage.’
Priya thought about it for a moment, and then laughed. ‘Are you serious? God! Do you know how much the world has changed in the last decades? Have you seen them fight to try and piece back a semblance of normality?’
‘Of course, we know what’s happening out…’
‘I don’t think you do, not if you think holding two criminals’ hostage would give you any kind of control. They wouldn’t think twice about killing every last person here, including us, if they thought you had something they wanted, which, if you’re even living here, they obviously do. They don’t negotiate. They don’t waste time weighing up pros and cons, they simply take the shortest road to getting what they want!’
Semilion had coloured, though with embarrassment or consternation it wasn’t entirely clear. He liked to think he was educated in the current affairs of the outside world, had thought John Camberwell’s monthly shipping report afforded him sufficient knowledge. When John and his wife returned every six months they supplied him with detailed commentaries, newspapers, magazines and audio files of worldwide events, and yet he now felt he knew nothing.
His grandfather had made him listen to the reports regarding the outbreak of carnivora flu, and had taught him the importance of understanding the past when preparing for the future. He had watched the initial footage of Libyan hospitals strewn with the sick, the violent riots of Algeria, Chad and Egypt as the virus spilled across the compass, and the resulting bone-fields the world over. He had grown accustomed to the images of bloated pustules and buboes from an early age, and had thought the world outside his own community was a decaying wasteland of hollow sockets and grinning skulls. It wasn’t until his grandfather died that he learnt that the world had continued beyond the Great Pathogen; formally he had assumed that Mortehoe and Woolacombe were the last habitable places on earth, but his father had shown him the world as it was, the unrest that had gripped humanity in an attempt to seek answers and mete retribution on an unaccountable, non-existent enemy.
He opened the door and said a few words to Baron, then waited in the doorway until his return.
‘What’s the rope for, then?’ Priya asked, folding her arms.
‘I know it seems drastic, but for all I know you haven’t told a single truth. We’ll decide in the morning whether you’re simply castaways or something else.’
Priya was about to step forward; Selina could hear her breath hard close to her. She began to say, ‘No, wait just a
...’
Selina reached out and touched her back. ‘Priya, don’t make it worse. We should do what he says and get through this as quickly as possible. Like he says, in the morning he’ll find out what we’re saying is true and he’ll let us go,’ she turned to Semilion. ‘Right?’
He nodded, and looked expectantly at Selina, as though she might hold her hands out to be tied by way of example. Her heart sank, but she stepped forward as Priya stared at her incredulously. ‘I thought we were trying to avoid being thrown in jail,’ she sighed, offering her wrists also.
Chapter Six.
South-easterly wind.
Eighteen knots.
Elysium Part One. Another Chance Page 12