Autumn exodus, p.17
Autumn - Exodus, page 17
Through the downstairs windows, David could see the fire rapidly taking hold. It was licking against the walls, billowing along low ceilings and jumping from room to room. He could feel the heat from here; the temperature inside must have been intense. He saw wallpaper turning to ash, peeling away from the plaster. Curtains and other furnishings caught light spontaneously, flames jumping through the parched air.
David realised he wasn’t helping. He was just getting in the way. There were already more than enough people and a chain had been formed that stretched right the way across the street, passing Marcus’s belongings from hand to hand to hand and piling them up a safe distance away.
Lisa had recently settled in another house nearby. On hearing the increasing noise, she got up and came out to help, but now found herself redundant like David. ‘Shouldn’t we try and put it out?’ she asked.
‘How? There’s no running water. Short of passing buckets from person to person, I don’t know how we’re supposed to deal with something like this.’
‘Makes you realise just how vulnerable we really are, doesn’t it?’
‘I think most of us realised that already.’
David had sobered up quickly. He walked around the corner, worried that other properties nearby might be at risk. Lisa followed him. Things looked immeasurably worse around the back, but other than to the empty house next-door, there didn’t seem much danger of the fire spreading. ‘How do you think it started?’ she asked.
‘No idea. Ed seems to think he’s not the kind of lad to leave candles burning or anything like that. I mean, it might well have been an accident, but I reckon if—’
He stopped talking. ‘What’s wrong?’ Lisa asked, concerned.
David didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he walked through an open gate at the side of the burning house, into a rectangular garden. The inside of the building was an inferno. The heat kept him pushed back, but he could see sheets of flames in other rooms through the open back door.
‘Ed said Marcus came out through the front of the house.’
‘So?’ Lisa asked, confused.
‘So why isn’t the gate locked? And why is the back open like this?’
‘How am I supposed to know?’
‘Think about it... it’s the end of December, it’s freezing cold, and none of us really have any kind of heating. There’s no way he’d have left the back door wide open like that.’
‘You think someone broke in? What would he have worth stealing? Bloody hell, you can just take what you want these days, no need to pinch from your neighbour; I’m surprised he bothered locking it at all.’
‘You’re missing the point.’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘I’m saying the fire could have been started deliberately. And before you say anything else, I realise exactly how crazy that sounds.’
‘But why would anyone set Marcus’s house on fire?’
‘Beats me. You can’t deny what we’re seeing here, though.’
People began running past them. The house was still burning, but something else was happening elsewhere in the village that was clearly more of a concern. Sam sprinted past, then Ed, then a whole load of others. David and Lisa followed, though David struggled to match their speed. His mind raced as he ran through the twisting streets. That more of the dead had seen the fire and were advancing towards the village was the only logical explanation he could think of.
But he was wrong.
He was so very, very wrong.
Both the Amazon warehouses were on fire.
The blazes hadn’t been burning long, that much was clear, but there was little question that the vast buildings were already lost. If they couldn’t put out a relatively small house fire, what hope did they have of putting out these huge industrial units?
A crowd had gathered on the scrubland where Piotr’s army had been defeated, the cratered land still heavily scarred from the grenade blasts. But the people here weren’t interested in the debris of war, nor were they watching the fierce fires that grew rapidly, lighting up everything. Instead, they were standing around a far more grotesque monument to the unimaginably awful world they now a part of.
Anthony Taylor’s naked, lifeless, mutilated body hung skewered on a metal pole sunk deep into the ground at the centre of it all.
29
No matter how bad things had looked first thing, in the cold light of day they looked immeasurably worse. Apart from the two warehouses and the vast stores of equipment and supplies they’d contained, several streets full of houses had also been lost. Where yesterday there’d stood comfortable homes where people had begun reclaiming their lives, now there were just rows of blackened ruins. Burnt rafters left open to the elements. Charred walls with shattered windows and gaping black holes where their doors used to be. The dark skies over Yaxley were heavy with chugging clouds filled with noxious smoke.
‘What he can’t have, that fucker just destroys,’ Ed said, and he kicked a chair across the floor of the village hall. The detritus from yesterday’s Christmas dinner hadn’t yet been cleaned up. The place was a pigsty. The party had been so completely engrossing that they’d left it last night and gone to their respective beds in good spirits. Now yesterday’s celebrations felt inappropriate and premature. Stupid, even.
‘We’re completely sure it was Piotr?’ Sanjay asked.
‘Who else could it have been?’
‘But we thought he was dead.’
‘And we should have known better,’ David said. ‘It’s been that fucker’s modus operandi from day one. He puts everyone else in the firing line and stands back from it all, shouting orders. And like Ed says, if you’ve got something he wants, he’ll destroy it in a heartbeat. If he can’t have it, no one can. He’s an evil, evil fucker.’
Ed’s mind was racing. ‘Okay, we need to think about this sensibly. We need to prioritise security. At the very least we should erect some kind of border around the centre of the village and keep it guarded.’
‘I agree,’ Chapman said.
‘Don’t over-react,’ Sam warned. Chapman turned on him instantly.
‘Over-react? What planet are you living on, you soft bastard? He could have killed all of us. He could have wiped this place off the map.’
‘Yeah, but he didn’t.’
‘No, Sam, but he’s taken out a major asset and left us afraid and vulnerable. We have to take the blame for this. We let our guard down and we let him do this to us. We should have made sure he was dead.’
‘How?’ Ruth asked. ‘After the grenades you couldn’t tell how many people had died or if they’d been alive or dead when we hit them. It was a mass of burned-up body parts. It’s not like we can do DNA profiling or check dental records or anything like that anymore.’
‘Someone moved the van, didn’t they? Should have tipped us off, made us wary, but we were busy merrymaking, and he’d have guessed that or even seen it. We let Piotr go; he’s still out there. We can’t let anything like this happen again.’
‘Again, assuming it was Piotr.’
‘Oh, come on. Do you think there’s anyone else who’d be so fucking twisted and spiteful?’
‘I agree,’ David said. ‘Piotr’s an awful fucker, alright, but he’s not stupid. He planned this carefully. Other than Taylor, no one got hurt, did you realise that? He didn’t randomly attack us; instead he attacked our ability to survive. He’s done enough to permanently undermine our stability.’
‘All’s not lost,’ Ed said. ‘Sure, the warehouses are gone, but we’ll still be able to get what we need from Peterborough. It’ll just be a lot harder now, a lot less convenient.’
‘And that’s how we know it was Piotr. Like I said, this was deliberately engineered to cause us problems.’
‘Doesn’t matter. Chapman’s right. We need to up our game and make sure the same thing doesn’t happen again. If you’re right about him, this could be his first step in a campaign of terror. He’ll come back again, and next time, people will get hurt.’
‘I’m not so sure...’
‘What if it wasn’t him? Clearly it was someone. We’ve been complacent, and I’m not prepared to take any more chances.’
‘We’ll get lookouts in place by this afternoon,’ Chapman said. ‘I’m not going to be asking for volunteers – everyone’s going to be involved in this. We’ll put a rota together. I’ll get Georgie to organise it.’
‘Agreed. Me and Marcus will go out herding later, start getting a decent number of corpses corralled. It’s an idea we talked about early days but never progressed, and I think we need to look at it again.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Surrounding the village with the dead. It should be enough to keep anybody out. I reckon a few thousand should do it, and there’s probably still a hundred thousand or so left wandering around Peterborough.’
‘Hold on, mate. Is this really the right answer?’ Sam asked. ‘Seriously? You’ll keep the bad guy out, maybe, but you’ll also keep us all in.’
‘We’ll leave some form of access, obviously.’
‘I get that, but we’re talking about one man and, potentially, a handful of other hangers-on. Don’t you think a bloody moat of corpses is a bit of an overreaction?’
‘Maybe, but I’m not prepared to take the risk.’
‘There must be a better way? One that’s less labour intensive? Putting fencing around this whole place and filling it with dead watchdogs? That’s not going to be easy.’
‘No one said it would be.’
‘And once Piotr’s gone, what then?’
‘We maintain the defences. What else do you suggest? Are we supposed to just wait here like sitting ducks for the next self-proclaimed warlord to come along? Because there will be others, of that I’ve no doubt.’
Sam struggled to hide his frustration.
They were back to square one.
30
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN
The positivity of the preceding weeks had been permanently shattered by Piotr’s actions. A familiar, gut-churning anxiety had returned. For the briefest of moments, people had begun to think the worst was over, that the fighting was finished and the time for rebuilding had begun, but what had happened in Yaxley had tipped everything on its head again. Several days passed in a whirl: frantic planning sessions followed by hours and hours of graft. They fortified the village as best they could and began making preparations for encircling themselves with a ring of dead flesh as a deterrent. The temperature had dropped. It was markedly harder working in the fields. The fragile optimism that had been felt by the people in the village snuffed out like a spent candle. Even if they had a spark to relight it, they’d no longer be able to sustain the flame.
The living room of the cottage that Vicky, Selena, and Ruth shared was crowded with people tonight. Sam and Joanne were there, and David and Sanjay too. April and the girls from Stanstead. Noah. Ollie, Callum, and Mia from Brentwood. Orla, Liz, Lisa, Marcus... it was standing room only. This meeting hadn’t been arranged; it had just happened. One conversation had led to another, then another. One person had spoken to someone else, who in turn had taken others into their confidence... It felt like a betrayal of sorts, but it was never intended as such. It was a group of disparate, frightened people who’d briefly dared to dream, but who’d since been brought crashing back to reality. There was no need for bravado, no need to worry about hurting feelings or causing offence.
‘I’m sick,’ Vicky said. ‘Very sick. And I don’t want to die in this place.’
Her comment silenced the already difficult conversation. How were they supposed to respond to that? Her illness was hardly a secret, but it had been something they’d only ever talked around rather than addressed head-on.
Sam cleared his throat. ‘I understand that Vic, I really do. We just need to be realistic about what it’s going to be like if we move on. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, alright? Despite what’s happened, what we’ve got here in Yaxley is still pretty decent, all things considered. We’re relatively comfortable, and even though we’ve lost the warehouses, there’s still plenty of stuff nearby.’
‘I know. What Ed and the others achieved here is remarkable, but I don’t think it’s enough.’
Ruth wasn’t convinced. ‘Would anywhere else be any better?’
‘We can’t know either way, can we.’
‘It’s a hell of a risk. We’re talking about leaving all of this behind to go to a place you’re not even sure exists.’
‘I’m lost,’ Mia said, confused. ‘What place?’
‘You’ve not heard about the fabled Ledsey Cross?’
‘No.’
‘Show her, Selena,’ Vicky said, and Selena plugged in her phone and connected it to the TV they had set up in the corner. Sam had procured a portable solar-powered generator and various other bits of kit before the warehouse fire. They’d talked about watching movies together, but had quickly abandoned those plans. They’d begun It’s a Wonderful Life Christmas afternoon, but it had almost ruined the party before it began. All that old films and TV programmes would do was remind them of what they’d lost.
Selena cycled through the photographs of Ledsey Cross that most of them had seen numerous times before. ‘I still can’t get my head around the fact they’re out there,’ Orla said. ‘No matter how many times you show me these pictures or read me their messages, it still doesn’t feel real.’
‘I still don’t follow,’ Mia said.
‘These pictures were taken after the apocalypse,’ Vicky explained. ‘They were sent to friend of mine and Selena’s before the networks failed.’ She gestured at the screen. ‘That lady there is Annalise. Our friend Kath was in contact with her after everyone else had died.’
‘But that’s impossible.’
‘Not impossible,’ Sam said. ‘Unlikely, but not impossible. I reacted the same way you just did when I first found out, but the evidence is there on Selena’s phone.’
‘It just doesn’t seem real.’
‘I know,’ Vicky said. ‘When I was with Kath and we were watching those messages coming through, I thought the same thing. But the proof’s right here. While we were fighting just to stay alive in the middle of London, the people in Ledsey Cross who’d survived were living relatively normal lives.’
‘For me, that’s the draw of Ledsey Cross,’ Orla said. ‘It might all come to nothing, but the idea of being able to reclaim even a part of what we lost, well, I think that’s priceless.’
‘I know most of you have heard this before,’ Vicky continued, ‘but I made a promise to Kath to get Selena there. The village is remote, but not isolated. There’s a single route in and out, and it’s incredibly self-sufficient. We’re talking running water, solar power, wind turbines, the lot.’
‘I’m sold,’ Noah said. ‘When do we leave?’
‘Seriously?’ Sanjay said.
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘It’s in Yorkshire, you know; she didn’t mention that. Hundreds of miles from here.’
‘So much the better. Have you not noticed, Sanj, that the further we get from the southeast, the fewer bodies there are?’
‘That’s not always going to be the case,’ Sam warned. ‘I’ve been thinking about potential routes for as long as I’ve known about Ledsey Cross. Travelling north will be okay to a point, but sooner or later we’ll hit trouble. Liverpool, Manchester, Huddersfield, Bradford, Sheffield, Leeds, Wakefield, York, Doncaster, Hull... if you look at a map of the country, there’s a band of towns and cities stretching virtually from one coast to the other. It’ll take some planning to find a safe route around them.’
‘But it has to be worth the risk, right? If this place is as good as Vicky’s saying?’
He nodded. ‘I think so, and I’m keen to find out. If I’m being completely honest, I think I’ll always regret it if we don’t go up there and at least have a look.’
Liz shook her head. ‘I’m sorry; I see your perspective, but I feel different. Much as I like the idea, there’s no way we can risk uprooting everyone here. There are just too many of us. It’s too much of a gamble. And if just a few of us were to go, then I still think I’d stay put. My job is to take care of people. I need to stay with the majority.’
‘And I totally understand that, Liz,’ Orla said.
‘I feel the same,’ April said. ‘I’d love to go, but I can’t justify taking that kind of a risk when I’m responsible for Emily and Isabelle.’ She looked at the girls playing at her feet. ‘Believe me, I’d love for them to be able to grow up somewhere well away from all this chaos, but that’s a long journey and the roads are not safe. Maybe when you find this place, you’ll come back and tell us about it?’
There was a lull in the conversation as people considered what they’d heard. ‘Tell us what you’re thinking, Dave,’ Sam said.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he swirled the remains of the coffee in his mug, carefully considering his response. ‘I think most of you know that I’ve never intended on settling anywhere other than home. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I intend to make my way to Ireland, though I’m not delusional. I know what I’ll likely find when I get there.’
‘So, are you in our out?’ Vicky asked. ‘Sounds to me like there’s a few of us who are keen.’
He thought again. ‘I’m in,’ he eventually answered. ‘Being here in Yaxley is infinitely better than it was in London, but it still feels like we’re making do, even more so now that Piotr has fucked us over. I think a contingent of us should travel up to Ledsey Cross, see if it’s as good as it looks, or whether it’s another dead end. If it’s the utopia you think, Vic, then provided the people there are in agreement; the Yaxley contingent should have the opportunity to rethink joining them.’
‘And what about you?’
‘It’s on my way, isn’t it. If I can make it there, I’ll know I can make it back to Ireland. More to the point, staying here’s an equal risk, maybe more so. I don’t think we can afford not to go. Say I put my boot through that TV screen, Selena. What do you do?’
