Society: After It Happened Book 3 (19 page)

WHERE IS MY FRIEND?

They stood and watched the barn burn in silence as Patrick turned slowly left and right on the end of his rope.  Nobody said a word.  Leah, efficient as ever, reloaded her carbine to ensure a full magazine was in place.

Two loud shots rang out from up the hill, sparking them all into sudden defensive action until their radios all crackled simultaneously.

“Last one” said Lexi “Coming down”

She joined them at a jog about a minute later, taking in the close up of the former King without comment.  She had witnessed their friend being lowered and the fat murderer replacing him and she wasn’t concerned.  As far as she was concerned he deserved it and that was the end of the matter.

“What were the last two shots?” Dan asked her, curious.

She looked to the floor, unsure how to explain without sounding judgmental.

“One came out the breach at the back.  He was burning so I…” she trailed off.  Dan nodded to her.  He was glad she put whoever it was out of their misery.  Nobody deserved to burn to death he thought hypocritically, as the burns on his hands started to hurt.  He hadn’t noticed until now but multiple blisters were forming where he had manhandled the burning wood to shut the doors and end the lives of everyone left inside.

They stood in silence, watching the flames engulf the barn and begin to melt the closest cars and structures.  He realised that Joe’s Defender was gone too, not that it mattered as they had another seven wrapped up under tarpaulins in a closed barn on the farm.  Still, it was Joe’s and now it was dead too.

Dan had the familiar waves of guilt wash over him; had he trained him well enough?  Was Joe prepared for any of this?  He shook it off.  Joe was good enough; he had proven that when the fat bastard Patrick had driven up on him months ago.  One man, his man, had shamed them and got away with four women safely.  The fault was his own.  He shamed Patrick when he came to ask for guns as the cost for his dead boy.  He threatened him and sent him away. 

It was his fault that they had come for retribution, and Joe had paid the price.

He produced his cigarettes and lighter from the custom pocket on his vest, but involuntarily cried aloud when his rapidly swelling hands couldn’t work the lighter.  He dropped the lighter, breathing heavily with the cigarette still in his mouth.  Silently Leah picked it up and lit the cigarette, putting the lighter back in the pouch.

“Let’s get you to Kate” she said gently to him.

“Let’s get back” she called out to the others, louder and full of confidence.  They all turned to the Land Rover unquestioningly, accepting her leadership without question.

Dan climbed in the back, his eyes resting on the body of Joe for the journey.  Leah rode with him, perched opposite with watchful eyes never leaving him.  Without warning the vehicle slowed and stopped, rocking the rear passengers uncomfortably and making Dan reach out to steady himself causing his teeth to grind with the pain in his hands.

“Say again?” he heard Neil say into the CB radio.  “Hello?”

“What’s going on?” Dan asked through the small window in the bulkhead.

“Something on the radio” Neil said “couldn’t make it out but it was female and panicked”

He looked at Leah, eyes wide.

“Emma?” he asked her.

Leah banged on the roof of the cab.

“Get back to the house, now!” she said with force.

Neil drove hard, pulling up within a couple of minutes.  Leah bundled out over the side and yelled for Kate.  The medical team must have been waiting, fearing the worst, as Alice burst from the door with a trauma kit in her hands.

Leah headed her off.

“Dan has minor burns, nothing serious” she said as she strode inside.  She emerged seconds later, twirling car keys in her hands.

“Neil, Lex; lock this place down.  Rich, with me” Dan stood dumbstruck as they all jumped to obey her instructions.  She looked at him, grabbing his shoulder to emphasise her point.

“You stay here. I’m borrowing your dog” she gave one sharp whistle, prompting Ash to jump down from the gunship and cast a look to his owner.  Dan told him to ‘get on’ twitching his head towards Leah.  He was still in shock as the girl jumped behind the wheel of his own Discovery after letting his dog in the back seat and watching Rich climb into the passenger side.  He looked on with incredulous awe as she gunned the three litre engine and shot away into the dark in his car with a chirp of the big tyres and his dog grinning out of the side window.

“No, no” he muttered with false deference “take my car; I insist!”

In a rare moment of obedience, Dan allowed himself to be led inside, stripped of his gear and receive treatment for the rapidly worsening burns on his hands.

“What have you been doing to yourself?” Alice asked as she held Dan’s hands in a bowl of cold water.

~

Leah drove hard, heading for the motorway where she first made her solo appearance in the world since she was the frightened little girl who spent the night in a Land Rover dealership a year and a half ago.  Rich, on instruction, was using the CB every few seconds as Leah weaved the big car further and further north.

“The house wasn’t picking anything up, so we must be at the extreme of the signal range.  Keep trying”

She did.  Leah had also had the forethought to grab a large scale ordnance survey map, just in case.  They had been moving for less than six minutes before Leah turned a hard hairpin, back onto the motorway where she had rammed the car and killed a man who threatened those she loved.

She loved Dan dearly.  She had never really had a father, not since the one who had actually fathered her had preferred drugs and fighting to being her Dad.  Dan was her Dad, but she was too embarrassed to ask to call him that.  That’s why she was doing this now, so that he didn’t have to go out injured.  If he couldn’t even light one of his silly smelly cigarettes, then how could he perform a tactical reload under fire?  No; she had to do this and do it fast.

She pushed the big 4x4 into a sweeping bend on the motorway, reaching over ninety-five miles an hour and squeezing the accelerator to keep the big automatic settled and sat down squat into the turn.  As the road levelled out a burst of static disrupted the radio.

“…know where I am…..please…me…….anyone there?”

Emma, and not a happy Emma.  Rich was quick to respond.

“Emma?  Is that you?  Can you hear me?” he fired back.

“…Hello?” static.

“Find out where she is” Leah said, concentrating on the pitch black road illuminated by the bright xenon headlights.

Rich spent the next five minutes trying to exchange conversation between them, until Leah crested a hill on the motorway and the signal suddenly became clear.  She slowed and stopped fast, flicking the dial between the front seats to select ‘R’ and launching backwards to the top of the hill.

The signal came through loud and clear.

“Emma? Emma?” she said after snatching the mic from Rich.

“Hello?” Emma answered.

“It’s Leah.  Tell me EXACTLY where you are” she barked with more authority than any thirteen-year-old had the right to own.

She did, to some extent.  Leah flicked on the internal LED light and bathed the cab with unnaturally harsh bright light.  She threw open the map and exchanged a few more lines with Emma, until she was sure where she was.  As luck would have it, they were on the same motorway but about twenty miles apart.

“Roll slowly, we’re coming to get you.  Flash your lights when you see us” Leah said, flicking off the interior light and dropping the big car into drive before planting the accelerator into the carpet. 

Best laid plans and all; they hit a complete roadblock after two miles.  She had no idea, but it was the same roadblock Emma’s attackers had planned to trap her against when she bumbled into their lives.  Leah had to get out and check the blockage, before deciding that one could easily be dragged out to make a gap wide enough for the Land Rovers.

She quickly hooked up the front winch and dragged a wreck of an old Subaru clear as Rich scanned the area with his rifle.  The cable was rapidly withdrawn and the journey resumed.  They found Emma after another fifteen minutes.  She saw them approaching fast and flashed her headlights causing a sudden flash in the eyes of her rescuers.

Leah pressed the handbrake button after flicking the selector into park and burst from the driver’s door.  As she feared, Emma was alone.  She was a complete state, with a grimy face and messy hair. 

“Steve?  Where’s Steve?” she barked, scanning around with the dog at her left heel and her carbine raised out of paranoid habit.  Emma could barely speak.  Leah took charge, asking Rich to drive the Defender back as she led Emma to the passenger seat of the Discovery.  As confident as she seemed to the others, all she wanted to do was get this mess back to Dan to decide what to do.

The two car convoy moved fast, eager to be off the road and back in the relative safety of home. 

Emma didn’t say a word; she just hugged her knees and rocked slightly.

“Where’s Steve” she asked again, forcing herself to sound calmer.

“It’s not my fault” she said weakly.

Fearing the worst, Leah just drove on with the need to get home.

Dan’s burns were worse than he realised and had started to blister badly.  Kate had run them repeatedly under icy cold water and wrapped his swollen hands in wet bandages.  He was starting to feel the pain when Lexi poured three very healthy measures of single malt for them as she, Dan and Neil sat at the table in Ops.  Dan reached for the CB mic, but dropped it due to the ungainliness of his alien hands.  Neil stood and picked it up.

“You there young’un?” he broadcast.

“Yeah.  On the way back.  One on-board” she said.  Dan heard the stress in her voice even if the others didn’t.

“One?” Rich said.

“Yes, yes.  Ten minutes.” she replied.

True to her word, nine minutes later she pulled up and nosey-parked his car closely followed by Rich climbing out of Steve’s Defender.  No Steve.

Emma did not look good; she was physically exhausted and was half carried by Leah inside.  Emma raised her eyes and looked directly at Dan.

“Please” he said through anger made far worse by the pain “tell me where my god damned Ranger is”

ALIVE

Before she lost consciousness, Emma managed to tell them he wasn’t dead.  That was good, Dan supposed.  The events leading up to him being alive and not there still needed explaining in detail but Kate was adamant that the girl needed at least some rest before they interrogated her.

She was awake by lunchtime, before Dan woke resulting in Marie carefully rousing him.  The exhaustion and stress of the last thirty-six hours coupled with the painful blisters on his hands and the subsequent painkillers had knocked him out cold.

She helped him into some uncharacteristically comfortable clothes and led him downstairs.  He allowed her to take control of him; welcomed it in fact.  There had barely been a day during the last year and a half when he hadn’t been worrying about himself and everyone else.  About their future and the threats to their safety.  The few times he hadn’t been thinking like that was when he had been ill or injured.  Fearing what he would hear, he sat in Ops and accepted a coffee as he watched Emma fidgeting in her seat.  She had showered and her now clean hair hung damply as she bent her head to her drink.

“Are you ok?” Dan asked her as he shifted in his seat for comfort, remembering his lack of manners and concern when he saw her last.

“Yes, thank you” she replied timidly.  She cleared her throat and set her drink down on the table carefully, preparing herself to recite the story of the last few weeks.

Nobody interrupted her until she reached the part about Richards.  Dan sat forward a fired off a series of questions designed to establish the basis of a threat assessment.  It was automatic.

“Debrief later” Leah instructed “Go on” she gently urged the scientist ten years plus her senior and putting Dan in his place.

She told them of the escorted visit to the lab.  Of the inconclusive blood tests, and then of the discovery of the computer login details.  Dan fought to control his impatience and stop it boiling over into temper; he didn’t care one bit about the science right now and wanted to know what happened to his friend.  He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Later.  Steve?” he said, trying not to snap.

“We got back to the army camp.  Richards wasn’t going to let us go, so Steve got me out and stayed.  He said he was the real prize, that they wouldn’t chase me if he stayed” she blurted out, worried that she would be blamed for his absence.

“That sounds like Steve” Dan said “but what was his plan to get out?”

He had to have an exit strategy.  He was too clever and analytical to just sacrifice himself.

“He’s going to fly back” she said simply, silencing them all. 

FIVE HUNDRED FEET

The large bladder tanks replaced two of the folding seats on each side of the helicopter, allowing the side doors to still be used.  The hydraulics controlling the ramp decided to stop working, resulting in a further day delay whilst the problem was diagnosed and fixed.  Having the rear ramp up wasn’t exactly necessary to fly, but the excuse kept them grounded for long enough to lose the daylight.

Finally, Steve could stall no further.  Pre-flight checks were normal, all dials were in the green and he agreed to try and take her up the next morning into a hover before bringing the aircraft back to earth.

The first test flight made his nerves taught with fear.  He expected cockpit alarms to sound at any second and for the engines to stall, plummeting him down to his death.  He didn’t die, nor did the old Merlin falter.

Steve’s elation almost made him forget that he was there under duress, albeit with faked compliance.  He insisted on taking her up again, this time unable to stop volunteers from joining him.  A nervous mechanic named Phil wanted to come up, and Mitch joined them.  The soldier helped strap Phil in and put a headset on him, giving a thumbs up to save shouting over the noise of the whining engines.

Mitch wore a harness like the straps for a parachute; shoulders and legs held tight and a heavy strap attached to a clip to secure him as the stand-in loadmaster.  He attached it inside the doorway and spoke into the boom mic on his headset.

“Let’s take her up” he said.

Steve manipulated the controls to launch the helicopter up and backwards, quickly getting clear of the ground.  He banked hard, making Mitch brace himself in the open side door.

“How are we looking, Mitch?” Steve asked, wishing he was alone and could flee south.

“All good” came the crackling reply “Phil’s not enjoying it though!” he said with amusement looking at the terrified mechanic.

“I’ll do a quick sweep and take her back down” Steve said.

“Are we not heading south now?” Mitch asked.  Steve’s smile evaporated.

“South?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“I assume that’s where we were headed, to find your people?  Why else do you think I’m here with Phil who’s shit scared of flying?” Mitch said with a laugh.

Steve couldn’t believe it.  His secret plans of escape were obvious to Mitch who had even established a fellow deserter to join them. 

Richards’ happy ship was listing, it seemed. 

He laughed aloud to himself at his own stupidity; of course people suspected he would run.  Why else were so many ‘guides’ sent to ‘protect’ them?

Well that plan just backfired.  He was in the air, he was free and he was heading home.

The remaining guards and engineers on the ground watched in ignorant admiration as the old bird banked and flew a ponderous loop over their small base.  They remained fixed in their gaze at the empty sky as the aircraft levelled out and dipped its nose to raise the tail end and surge over their heads.  It took them over a minute to start to really worry.  When the noise of the three turboshaft engines had faded into eerie silence, the first serious doubts gnawed at them.

One by one they realised that the helicopter which had taken them a few days to nurse back into flight-worthiness was gone, and that they had been made complete fools of.

The last of the soldiers to stay watching the sky sighed to himself, not relishing the punishment he would likely receive when he got back to the Captain.

He let his gaze drop from the sky and sighed again to himself.

“Oh shit” he said to nobody in particular.

~

“You’re deserters!” Steve joked with Mitch and Phil.

“Technically not” reasoned Mitch as he braved the buffeting side winds to close the sliding door in the fuselage “I’m defecting if you think about it.  So is Phil, aren’t you mate?”

Steve couldn’t see behind him, but his headset relayed Phil’s pained croak of response.  He didn’t think Phil much gave a shit right now; he would probably start throwing up soon.

Mitch stood behind Steve’s shoulder in the doorway to the cockpit and leaned against the wall as he still held the metal rail above his head.

“Like a Russian spy or something” he explained.  Steve smiled, glad for the company and the welcome turn of events.

He flew low and hard, hugging the contours of the ground and going no higher than five hundred feet from the undulating earth below.  He avoided the larger hill ranges, skirting to the east or west to save having to gain altitude.  His hands and feet were as one with the controls; his very soul hardwired into the machine.  Not once did the smile leave his face as he accelerated close to a hundred and eighty miles an hour.

They discussed the smoking ruins of a burnt out population centre in the distance with Mitch remarking that it was likely improved and far safer than it had been a couple of years ago.  Steve picked up the snaking tarmac as it widened to four lanes and followed it south, knowing that within half an hour it would merge with another tarmac artery of their now deceased country.  He could follow that new road right to the doorstep of the prison and be landing minutes later.  He daydreamed about the looks on their faces and hoped that Emma had got back safely by now.  He brought his thoughts back to the present, thinking in wonder about how they were still in the air as he had switched off completely for a number of seconds; he had done that in a car so many times and didn’t crash but somehow doing it in ten tonnes of screaming jet engines and spinning metal made any lapse in concentration even more dangerous.

He pushed on, ignoring the ache creeping into his legs and arms and shoulders.  He was out of practice physically, but that didn’t detract from his deeply ingrained ability or skill in piloting the bird over the overgrown wasteland below.