Surviving The Evacuation (Book 3): Family (27 page)

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Authors: Frank Tayell

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BOOK: Surviving The Evacuation (Book 3): Family
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“I’ve one more question,” I said, I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I knew there would be no other chance to ask. “Why did you kill the evacuees?”

“Because,” he said scornfully, “there was never going to be enough food for everyone. We couldn’t trust them to stay at home and starve to death. They would all have gone out looking for food, beating at our doors, forcing a way in and bringing the infection with them. Some had to die so others could live. Not that it mattered in the end. It all fell apart. But England will rise again. She always does.”

“But does that mean you had that poison already waiting? Was it stock piled somewhere?”

“Oh, come on! Does every trifling detail matter?” he asked, addressing my brother.

“No,” Sholto said, “let’s finish this.” He stood up and took a phone out of his pocket. It was a smart phone, but with a host of wires and a small black box plugged somehow into the back.

“Take it,” he said, holding it out in front of him, “I’ve set up a receiver outside your perimeter. That’ll relay the signal up to a satellite I’ve had waiting.”

“How did you get hold of a satellite?” the General asked, as he stood up and walked towards my brother.

“Money and influence. Like Quigley said, I used to own Senators. Type the following, 2, 3, 8, 9, 7...”

The General snatched at the phone, but the moment his fingers tapped at the screen, the windows filled with light, then shattered as the house was rocked with an explosion. I staggered, half falling.

So, I thought, was my brother. But what I thought was a stagger, was a lunge. His hand plunged forward, straight at the Generals face. The General stopped moving. I saw why. The hilt of one of the knives from the silver dinner service was embedded through the man’s eye.

Quigley was off balance, his hand moving to a pocket. I scrabbled around looking for a weapon, looking for something to throw. I didn’t need to.

Even as the General began to collapse Sholto had moved forward, grabbing the pistol from the man’s belt. The gun came up, pointing at Quigley.

Quigley saw it. He froze.

Sholto fired.

Quigley jerked back, his hands moving to his chest.

He collapsed.

 

Escape

Sholto straightened.

“Right,” he said. “Right.” he said again. He looked down at the two bodies, then fired again, once into the General and again into Quigley.

“Right,” he said, then paused, then aimed the gun down and fired twice into Quigley’s head. “Just to be sure, you understand. Now, Bill, look...”

The door opened. The two soldiers who had escorted me down from Jen’s room came in. Sholto’s hand came up. He fired. Twice. They both died.

I wanted to ask him what he was doing there, but the words that came out were, “Who the hell are you?”

“Look in a mirror and ask yourself the same question,” he replied. “Now come on, here.” He ran over to one of the soldiers, picked up a rifle and threw it over to me.

“Grab a coat. In this chaos it might give us an extra few seconds.”

I started dragging off the coats. That’s when I noticed that he’d shot both of the soldiers between the eyes. Exactly between the eyes.

“That was all over in less than a minute. Less than a half a minute,” I said.

“I told you I’d been planning to kill Quigley for years. What exactly did you think those preparations had been for?”

“But he died not knowing why.”

“You think I should have said that this was for our mother and father or your lost childhood? What’s the point of speeches? What good have they ever done? Now grab that coat and let’s find the radio. Any idea where it’ll be?”

“The generator was on the south east,” I said, trying to think. “There were cables and wires running up from a window to the flag pole... It’s probably in the library.”

“Library? Good. We need to send the message, then we can get out of here.”

“Then that part was true?”

“That there’s only room for one submarine in the Atlantic? Yes, that’s what the old man is after. Personally I’d rather they’d all been sunk, but if it’s a choice between one and the other I’ll pick the one that’s on my side.”

“You’ll use a satellite...” I began, trying to keep up.

“There is no satellite. That’s the same thermal explosive we used in the tunnel, mixed with some C-4 I got from Leon. We need to hurry. Which way’s the library?”

I pointed.

“Good,” he said, “Stay three paces behind. No more. No less. You’ve got the rear. I’ve got the front and sides. Is there anyone in the house we need to rescue? You said Jen was dead. Anyone else?”

“No, Jen’s dead.”

“Yes, I know,” he said, patiently. “But is there anyone else?”

“No. No. Quigley killed them all.”

“He did know how to do a job thoroughly. Three paces. No more. No less. Keep looking behind. If you see anyone, then shoot first, because there’s no questions this lot can answer.”

Even under the circumstances I rolled my eyes at that line.

 

We made it to the library unseen, and just before a half dozen uniforms ran past.

“They’ll look outside first,” Sholto said. “We’ve got ourselves about ten minutes grace.” He walked over to the radio.

It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. I suppose when I thought about military radios I thought about old war films, not something that was more keyboard and computer than dials and knobs.

 

“Let’s see.” He bent over the keyboard and began typing.

“The Doctor wasn’t here,” I said.

“Of course he wasn’t. Quigley would have killed him if he knew where he was. He was a witness. The last witness.”

“The old man knew that? Then is he holding Kim and the girls hostage?”

“Of course not. They’re perfectly safe.”

“Then why did he lie to me?”

“Because it wasn’t about you. None of this was, not really. If you’d managed to persuade Jen, if she did have any power, then fantastic, there would be no need for any bloodshed. But he knew Quigley. Or knew his type. He knew the man would have to die and he knew you couldn’t do it. I could. And the easiest way of getting me here was to get you to come here and me to follow.”

“He didn’t know you’d come.”

Sholto paused, and looked up. “Of course he did. I crossed the ocean, didn’t I?” He turned back to the keyboard, and continued talking as he typed. “About an hour after you left he woke me up and told me where you’d gone. I won’t say I was happy about it, but I left Kim to do the shouting. He gave you the address of a safe house and a route to take. I followed that route and went to that safe house. You didn’t turn up.”

“I didn’t like the area.”

“Yeah, well it was the wrong time to get picky. The old man thought that if we were just a few miles away, we’d try and get into the place. It’s no one’s fault. I found your car and then I found the bike. But then I had to wait until dark, until no one in the balloon could spot me. I set the explosives and here I am, and... hang on. There.” He straightened.

“Is it done?”

“Just wait a moment. Right, there it is. That’s the confirmation. They’ve received a set of co-ordinates. They’ll go there looking for the Vehement, and it should be waiting ready to sink it. If it’s not, then that’s the old man’s problem, not ours. The job’s done. What are you doing?”

“The virus, they have some of it downstairs. Taken from Lenham Hill.”

“Really? I thought I got it all.”

“You didn’t. It’s how Jen got infected. There might be some more left.”

“So you’re going to start a fire?”

“Yep,” I ripped the pages from another book. “You got a problem with that?”

“Hardly. I think you’ve enough though.”

I looked down. I was ankle deep in torn paper.

“Here,” he pulled out a lighter and handed it to me.

I kicked the loose pages up against one of the teak bookshelves, bent down and paused. “Do you have a plan for what’s next?”

“You mean our daring escape? I saw two helicopters when I was setting the explosives. I figure that’s our best bet.”

“There’s no fuel.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have a plan B?” I asked, as I flicked the lighter.

“Not exactly, but in about a minute there’s going to be another explosion, and that’s going to rip a hole through the barricade to the south. At about the same time, give or take and if we’re lucky, the last of those incendiaries is going blow a hole through the outer wall. Factor in time and distance and lurching speed and we want to be long gone in an hour.”

“I didn’t see many undead out there, not when I arrived this morning. Yesterday morning,” I amended.

“Well, I had to do something whilst I was waiting for night. I lured in as many as I could find. I thought it would be good cover for us.”

“How many?”

“A few hundred. Probably more by now. Call it a thousand.”

“Right.” I counted to three. “So there isn’t a plan B, then?”

“Forget a plan and just set the fire,” he said slowly. “And do it now, because like I said, we really, really need to escape.”

 

It’s not the act of burning books that is a desecration, but the motives behind why they are burnt. This fire wasn’t just to destroy my past but was a final ending to all that had brought our species low. Nothing would ever rise from those ashes.

I bent down, flicked the lighter and held it to the first page. It was from Great Expectations. It wasn’t the scene where the house burns down, but you can’t have everything.

 

“We should go,” My brother said, gently pulling at my arm.

“Yes.” I didn’t move.

“Kim’s waiting,” he said gently, “Annette’s mad at you. Daisy, well, she missed you. Kept looking for you when she woke up. She was quite upset. Babies can be like that. They’re all waiting just a few hundred miles away and now it’s time to go to them.”

“Yes. Yes, alright.” I turned and we headed towards the door.

 

I stopped him when we reached the door.

“We should wait for the other explosion.”

“Seriously?” he gestured towards the flames, now trailing up the bookshelves to lick at the ceiling.

“We should.”

“Alright, then head south, down the main road. We can try and reach that car you brought.”

“No. I’ve a better idea. The old paddock, on the east side of the house. We go through the kitchens. Out here, turn left, then right, then straight on through the small door.”

“And then?”

And then there was an explosion followed by another a moment later. The sound was muffled and, with flames between us and the window, we could see nothing, but it was loud enough to carry through the stone walls.

“Timer didn’t work properly,” Sholto muttered. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” I pushed the library door open and limped out in front.

 

The house was filling with smoke, every window letting in an orange glow from outside. Shots were fired and I think some were fired at us, and some fired back by my brother. I pointed the rifle at an occasional shadow, but I didn’t pull the trigger. The shooting stopped just before we reached the kitchen. Two soldiers, filling a rucksack with food, barely gave us a glance as we ran past and out into the cool air.

 

The noise. That’s what I’ll remember about our escape. The sound of distant fires being drowned out as the one I’d set in the library slowly turned into an inferno to consume the house. Wood cracked, metal split and bullets flew. None were aimed at us. Or at least I don’t think so. Wearing those camouflage jackets, carrying those rifles our silhouettes must have looked like everyone else. Trying to escape, trying to shore up their defences or just trying to find out what had happened, the soldiers ran right past us without a second glance. Then they were gone and we were alone and at the edge of the paddock.

 

“The balloon? Seriously?” Sholto said doubtfully. I was out of breath, exhausted and he sounded as fresh as if he’d just woken up.

“Quick question, your plan was to take a helicopter. Do you actually know how to fly one?”

“Fly, yes. Yes, I know how to fly one.”

I’d worked in politics too long not to notice the equivocation. “How about starting the engine and taking off.”

“Well, I figured we could work that out. And I suppose you know how to fly a balloon?”

“I don’t need to. Hot air rises. Then it’s down to the winds. It’ll get us out of here.”

“And the landing?”

“Let’s let gravity work that one out. Come on, before anyone else gets the idea.”

 

Three people already had, and had already begun inflating the balloon.

“Don’t fire,” I yelled, half to Sholto, half to them. Perhaps they heard me, perhaps they didn’t. A bullet whined through the air a foot from my head. There was the crack of a single shot, and the soldier collapsed. Another shot, then another, and Sholto was running ahead of me now, the gun raised, firing a single shot with every other step. Half-heartedly I raised my own rifle, but I couldn’t make out a target. I lowered it again and continued my stumbling skip towards the balloon. I was a hundred yards away when the bullets stopped. Seventy when he reached the balloon. I watched as he tracked his gun along the ground, to the left to the right. Fifty yards away, when he turned back towards me, and I saw him raise his gun again. He fired and a bullet whistled past my ear. I half turned. There were shadows following us. Three or four, I’m not sure exactly.

Not bothering to aim, I fired from the hip. The gun let loose a long staccato burst. At some point the selector switch had been flipped to automatic. I don’t know if I hit anyone. I doubt it. The magazine was emptied in seconds, the barrel ending up pointing straight up in the sky.

“Come on!” Sholto called out. I don’t know if he was yelling at me or the soldiers or at the Universe in general. I slung the rifle and limped, as fast as I could, towards him.

I reached the balloon, just as an explosion ripped through the house. Perhaps that was their fuel dump or an ammunition store or perhaps it was something else. I fell into the wicker gondola and that was more or less it.

The canopy had enough hot air to give us lift, and the moment we started rising the gunfire stopped. I think those soldiers realised they’d need all their ammunition just to get out of there alive.

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