The Dust: Book Two - Pursuit (19 page)

‘The place is too built up, too dangerous. Plus Roger has local knowledge, we don’t,’

‘I know my way around Bath.’ Jake was eager for Yanto to agree.

‘Going there for a day trip or a bit of shopping is different to living there. He will know the back alleys, the short cuts. It’s too dangerous Jake, the others need us.’ Yanto was deadly serious.

Jake slowly nodded, he didn’t like it, but he knew Yanto was right. ‘Let’s go back to the others then, tell them the plan.’

Yanto and Jake returned to the layby and gathered the girls around. Yanto suggested that they move from the concealed hideaway to an open field further down the road. Somewhere they could see anyone coming at them before it was too late.

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on stories of the past few days and Lou wouldn’t leave Angel’s side for a second. Jake was wandering in and out of the conversations though and always had one eye on the road and the fields towards Bath waiting for his companion to return.

‘What are your plans after we leave for Bristol?’ Yanto asked Iris and Hannah.

They both looked at each other as neither had thought much further than a day ahead. ‘Well I think at the moment its safety in numbers so if it’s okay with you lot, we should all stick together.’

‘Well I’m off to Wales with Jake and then I will probably go it alone to see how many camps have been set up.’ Yanto stuck a knife in a tin of baked beans and opened the lid.

Iris’s heart sank, she was hoping the big Welshman would be sticking around as the other two hadn’t been that friendly towards her. After her spat with Angel the two had hardly spoke directly to one another.

‘You are more than welcome to stay with us.’ Jake walked back to where they were all sitting after yet another scouting mission for Roger’s return.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’ Iris looked at Hannah and they both smiled.

‘Anyone who has travelled with my friend is alright by me.’ He passed a pan to Yanto who lit his small gas stove.

‘You got heat, oh how I have missed hot food.’ Hannah’s eyes lit up.

‘This man has everything.’ Jake patted Yanto on the back.

‘What about you?’ Angel fired a question at Jake. ‘What are your plans when you finally get back to Amber.’

Jake smiled at Angel, her eye’s seemed to sparkle in the afternoon sunlight and he wished for a more simpler time when the two of them could spend some time alone. ‘Well funny you should ask that.’

‘This sounds interesting Butty Bach.’ Yanto looked up at Jake as he stirred the beans.

‘It sure does.’ Angel also sat up straight. ‘Please tell us.’

Jake sat down and plucked a blade of grass from the field. ‘Well further down the path, way into Devon is a small holding my uncle used to own. Old Mill Cottage to be precise, it’s the perfect bolthole in a fantastic location.’

‘I'm liking the sound of this, boyo.’ Yanto nods got stronger as Jake described the place. ‘Yanto has always liked Devon.’

‘It’s situated at the bottom of a steep hill and the back garden and large allotment run down into the River Lemon. There is on small track in and that’s it. A little fortress where one can hideaway and never be disturbed.’

‘I also like the sound of that.’ Angel closed her eyes to imagine it.

‘Me too.’ Iris agreed.

‘How big is the building, how many bedrooms?’ Yanto now poured the hot beans into a tin bowl.

‘Five bedrooms but there are four rooms downstairs so one could easily be turned into another room to sleep. Plus there were a few outbuildings and a large garage.’ Jake was trying hard to remember the lay out.

‘Sounds like enough room for all of us!’ Yanto’s raised his eyebrows and looked at everyone.

‘You say your uncle used to own it?’ Angel enquired.

‘Yes, the place was too big for him, so he moved to Newton Abbot, a small bungalow.’

‘Is the place still the same then?’

‘I would think so, you would have to be mad to change it as it was perfect.’

‘Where is it?’ Yanto scooped the first spoonful into his mouth and then passed the old metal spoon to Angel. ‘Just in case I want somewhere to get my head down whilst I’m down sunning myself on the English Riviera.’

Jake laughed. ‘You will always be welcome there my friend. Plus there are chickens that need looking after.’ He took the spoon from Angel.

‘Yes but where is it?’ Jake still hadn’t answered Yanto’s question.

‘A little village called Bickington, it’s picture postcard stuff.’

‘I think I know it, right on the edge of Dartmoor.’ Yanto wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Jake shook his head laughingly. ‘Is there anywhere you don’t know or haven’t been to?’

‘Well I have never been to Bickington, Butty Bach, but I’m looking forward to it already.’ Yanto then clinked mugs with Jake and they supped their coffee.

‘It’s agreed then?’ Jake looked at everyone. ‘That’s the plan.’

Chapter Twenty One

Hoskins watched as the bulldozer dropped another twenty or so dead naked bodies off the side of the dock and onto the trawler moored up below.

‘One more trip and that should be it.’ A shaven headed man in white overalls walked up to him and handed over a clip board.

Hoskins perused it for a minute. ‘Ninety six corpses, that’s not bad. Well done Willoughby, good job.’ He signed the bottom of the form and handed it back.

‘Soon we will be rid of this poison.’ Willoughby dragged his throat and brought up a mouthful of phlegmy spit.

‘That’s well over a thousand now, I can’t be exact without all my documentation, but it’s around one thousand and eighty dead.’ Hoskins smiled as he looked out at the Severn Estuary.

Willoughby spat over the side of the dock onto the piled up rotting flesh. ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish. That’s what my old Grandmother used to say.’

‘A wise woman, Willoughby, a wise woman.’ Hoskins put his hand over the smooth skin on the top his head. ‘Has Townsend arrived yet?’

‘Yes, he’s over in the office, I think he has news about phase one.’

‘That’s all well and good, but I want to know if he has heard from the doctors we left back in Taunton. To understand what we are up against, we need to understand what we are fighting.’

Willoughby sniffed. ‘All I know is one thing. If a pair of bloodshot eyes turn up on your doorstep, shoot first and ask questions later.’

Hoskins smiled. ‘I can’t disagree with that.’

‘Can we sail?’ A voice from the trawler called out.

‘Yes, dump this human garbage into the sea and make sure the tide doesn’t bring it back in.’ Hoskins nonchalantly waved away the trawler and the shaven headed man in white overalls at the helm waved to acknowledge him.

‘Lucky we found Cartwright.’ Willoughby added. ‘Not many men can operate a large trawler like that.

‘It’s not luck.’ Hoskins walked away from the dockside and Willoughby followed. ‘It’s all part of the grand plan, we all came together for a reason.’ He caught a glimpse of himself in a Portakabin window and ran his hand over his polished head, it felt smooth, clean. He pulled his white overalls down so they looked neater, he felt pure, unsullied. Hoskins knew this whole sorry dust situation wasn’t an accident, he knew he was the chosen one. He would rid this land of the infected scum and then, this once great country would be dragged back on its feet and to the top of the pile. Whatever it took and whatever was needed he was the man to lead, he was the ‘Doyen’.

***

‘Boss, isn’t it time to move?’ Archie moseyed up to where Lonny Gold was led against a grass bank looking over Bristol docks. ‘We have been here over an hour now and everyone is getting restless.’

Gold handed Archie his binoculars. ‘Tell me what you see.’

Archie re-focused the lenses and scanned the horizon. ‘What am I looking for?’

‘Point them at the dockside.’ Gold pushed the binoculars to the left. ‘Down there.’

Archie moved left and right and then homed in about twenty or so people all dressed in white overalls working away loading up three mini buses. ‘Who the hell are they?’

‘I don’t know, but I think they are best avoided, or wait till they disappear.’

‘They are all dressed the same.’ Archie was counting how many.

‘And they all have shaved heads.’

‘Bloody hell yes, I didn’t notice that at first.’

‘Even the women.’ Gold lit up a cigarette.

‘Women?’ Archie hadn’t noticed any, but on a second closer inspection he made out three or four women dressed in white overalls and with shaven heads. ‘That’s weird, they all look the same.’

‘It’s some sort of gang, a group of vigilantes.’

Archie dropped the binoculars and turned to Gold. ‘Should we try and talk to them?’

Gold shook his head.

‘They may have some valuable stuff with them.’ Archie was eager to dive in and grab some booty.

‘No. It doesn’t feel right, I think we should let them slip past.’ Gold blew out a plume of smoke from his mouth.

‘Come on boss, we can fucking take them.’ Archie stood up raring to go. ‘It will lift Harry James's spirits too; he’s a right miserable twat at the moment.’

Gold’s eyes widened, the vein in his neck became more prominent. ‘I said no, and I mean fucking no.’ He said with force.

‘Okay boss.’ Archie thought better of arguing the toss with him.

‘Harry James needs to step up or he will go the same way as that slag did.’ He flicked the half smoked cigarette over the grass bank. ‘I will feed him to the fucking circus freaks.’ He then stomped past Archie without making eye contact.

Archie then went back to the grass bank with the binoculars to look some more. A brown transit van came into view as it sped into the docks, smoke coming from the tyres as it slid to a halt. Three men in white overalls ran over to the van and opened the back doors, two more shaven headed men jumped out holding machine guns and they were followed by six clothed figures and another gun toting woman in white overalls. Archie tried to zoom in but the lenses went out of focus and when the clarity returned the six were lined up in a row and now two more men in overalls had appeared. The clothed people consisted of five men and a woman; they didn’t look like the crazy naked kind Archie had encountered.

One man seemed to be berating the six others and then without warning two of the shaven heads opened fire and cut them down. All six were now lying motionless on the floor as the blood seeped from the gunshot wounds, Archie lowered the binoculars, his mouth wide open.

‘That was automatic gun fire wasn’t it?’ Gold had heard the noise and walked briskly back over to Archie.

The young lad turned to face his mentor. ‘Yes, there a quite a few of them boss and they all have guns.’

Lonny grabbed the lenses back off Archie; he couldn’t believe there was opposition out there daring to grab his crown. He gritted his teeth,
blood was going to be spilt and he was going to be the first one to strike and strike hard.

***

‘Clean all this blood up.’ Hoskins marched away from the scene back towards the dockside.

‘Put them on the boat with the others?’ A young woman her dark hair shaven to the skin an automatic rifle hanging from her shoulder asked.

‘Yes.’ Hoskins looked over at the six bodies lying motionless on the concrete floor. ‘They are just as bad as the putrid vermin that we are extinguishing from our sacred land. If they don’t want to be a part of us then they have no place here.’

‘Very good sir.’ The woman turned and walked back to the others.

Hoskins made his way past the forklift trucks that were scattered near the edge of the dock wall and into the Portakabin office. As he entered the small mobile unit, a man in the same white overalls and sporting the same shaven head as everyone else stood up.

‘Doyen, we really need to push on with our programme.’ He held out a hand.

Hoskins gave him a short sharp shake and moved over to a small desk by the window and sat on the plastic chair behind it. ‘Sit down Townsend.’

Townsend sat on the leather sofa and wiped the sweat from the palms of his hands onto the legs of his overalls. ‘I must insist, Doyen, that we push up to Bristol tonight and think about the great southern clear out. We have nearly completed phase one.’

Hoskins sat back and studied Townsend. His small round metal rimmed glasses were perched on the end of his nose, he reminded him of a woodpecker who had become a professor. He was sure that could have been a character from a television show from when he was a small child.

‘As always Townsend you are correct, that is why you are my closest council.’ He picked up a plastic cup from the desk and took a sip of vodka. ‘Would you like some?’

Townsend declined, alcohol was man’s downfall and he refused to become its slave.

‘Have we heard from Jenkins yet?’ Hoskins added.

‘Not yet, but the last report wasn’t good. We have pushed many of the
deranged
north and the two Severn crossings have now become completely besieged.’ Townsend took a deep breath. ‘The last leg of phase one would seem to be the most difficult. We need more bodies and more equipment, we need to be completely ruthless.’

‘The Southwest is now free from the sick. If any stragglers are to be found then they will be removed by our scouting parties that are stationed there. Bristol is our first city, the first big test, we cannot be beaten, Townsend.’

Hoskins stood up. ‘We are the pure bloods, we are the new generation and we will succeed. Whatever it takes we will overcome this bad blood and this scourge that rampages over our land. The dust has been our saviour, it’s shown us the wheat from the chaff, it’s given us a new start.’ Hoskins wiped the sweat from his forehead, he felt excited, turned on.

He could see a better future, a cleaner future for the country he loved.

‘I also bring news from Doctor Washington and Doctor Robert.’ Townsend handed Hoskins a piece of paper.

He studied it with interest rubbing his chin. ‘What do you think of this?’

‘Seems like a plausible synopsis.’

‘Polycythemia Vera, it’s something I personally have never heard of but then I’m no Doctor. The overproduction of red blood cells. I suppose that would explain the blood problem, maybe poisoned by the dust. ’