The Last Sunset (28 page)

Andy shook his head.

“Okay then, whaddabout C.R.O.C.: changing regime
in ocean currents? Or, G.E.E.; global extinction event? No? Then how about the
destruction of the ozone layer? The greenhouse effect? Global warming?”

“What the hell has this gibberish got tae do
with a bunch o’ trigger-happy cowboys kicking off a nuclear war?”

“That’s the world Shawnee and me inherited,” Sam
replied scathingly, “thanks to all those generations before us that treated the
planet like a garbage dump.”

“What are ye sayin’; your lot went tae war with
the Chinese because we didnae keep the bloody place tidy?”

Sam took a deep breath to compose himself.

“The people of this world are still living in
some kinda harmony with nature. The population would be, I dunno, probably less
than one billion. By the end of the twentieth century the population of the
world is gonna pass the six billion figure. Six billion people, all wanting the
same thing; apartments and automobiles and refrigerators and television sets,
and so on, and so on.”

“What’s yer point, Sam?” Andy asked sharply.

“I’ll tell y’what my point is, buddy: while all
those scientists and engineers were finding new ways to grow and to build
bigger, better, faster, the dumb-assed mothers had taken the human race ’way
beyond the planet’s ability to support the species. That’s my freakin point!
The planet couldn’t take any more poison being pumped into the atmosphere,
couldn’t take any more forests being cleared, or pollution being dumped into
the oceans. At the end the average temperature was rising by one degree
centigrade every year. The polar ice caps were melting, sea levels were rising
all over the world. Weather patterns were changing, even the ocean currents had
begun to change direction, nothing was where it was supposed to be anymore.”

Andy could see something of the anger and
despair that Sam must have known; Sam and Shawnee and all the rest of that last
damned generation.

“How did it start? The war, Ah mean.” His voice
had lost its accusing edge.

“The world couldn’t adjust,” Sam replied
hoarsely. “North America, most of Europe, was able to cope with the changes in
climate; different farming methods, different crops. But Asia and a lot of
Africa was turning into one huge desert. God only knows how many millions were
dying of hunger and disease. China musta figured the West was holding out on
them. Maybe they thought a nuclear war was a gamble worth taking.”

“How bad was it?” Andy wanted to know. “Ah mean;
could it maybe have been just a localised thing?”

“I don’t think it was any kinda localised war.
It all happened real sudden while Shawnee and me were in Scotland. We were able
to piece together what musta taken place from what we heard on the cell phone;
what we saw appear in the skies here.”

“That explosion above Loch Ness?”

Sam nodded his head, and then looked at the
soldier. “Hold on, Shawnee said Loch Ness lies to the east of here.”

“That’s right.”

“What exactly did you guys see, Andy?”

“Just a bright flash, like something colossal
had exploded in the air way above the loch. Why, isn’t that what you saw?”

“Aw hell,” Sam said quietly. He stared at the
distant hilltop as if he’d been lulled into confessing some terrible crime.

“Have y’ever heard of Krakatoa?” he murmured at
last.

“It’s a volcano, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. For a long time after it erupted
people around the world saw spectacular sunsets. Something to do with all the
stuff that was blown into the upper atmosphere. Well, it was the same kinda
effect we saw.”

“What d’ye mean; like a red sunset?”

Sam snorted faintly. “Krakatoa woulda been like
a smokestack compared to what Shawnee and me saw. Everything that woulda hit
North America; all that… stuff rising into the air… like the sky was on fire.
It was coming from the west, from the Atlantic, and it looked like the sky was
on fire and the world was being swallowed up by the sun.”

“It mightae been another volcano, or something,”
Andy put in, desperation straining his voice. “Maybe out in the Atlantic;
Iceland, or somewhere…”

“There was something else,” Sam said quietly.
“Right at the end we saw something explode on the other side of those hills. It
musta been a ground burst; nothing too big, I guess, but then it didn’t need to
be, the size of that little town…”

“Fort William?” Andy gasped in horror. “Ye saw
something hit Fort William? It doesnae make sense! Why would they want tae hit
a town as wee as Fort William…?”

Sam’s eyes were closed now, his body rigid, as
if he were once again facing that avalanche of fire that had roared down the
glen towards him.

“Same reason they detonated one to the east of
here; to poison the land and the water; to prevent your government, your
military, any survivors from the south, from finding sanctuary anywhere in the
U.K.”

Andy felt sick, as though his body was trying to
reject the poison this man was feeding into his soul. He stared at the ridge,
above which Sam and Shawnee had seen the fires of hell, and he found he was
clenching his teeth so tightly his jaw ached. He had to get away from this
unborn harbinger from the future, away from the nightmare seeds he was planting
in his mind.

“Ah’m gonnae… go for a wander,” he mumbled.
“Ah’ll… see ye later.”

Andy had heard of soldiers sleeping on the
march; so exhausted or so traumatised they’d trudged along with their comrades,
completely unconscious. When he began to take in his surroundings once more he
found he was halfway up the southern slopes of Glen Laragain, the uppermost
part of his phillamhor trailing behind him like a wedding gown. His automotive
functions had drawn him towards the obvious escape route, into the hills.

He slumped to the ground. He’d wept when Shawnee
had first told him. He wasn’t sure why. He had no siblings, his father was long
dead, his mother a stranger. Perhaps he’d wept for all that wasted potential;
all that nobility and generosity and self-sacrifice that lay in the human
spirit. Perhaps he’d wept because the darker side of human nature would triumph
in the end.

He rose to his feet, gathering the plaid over
his left shoulder. He was about five hundred feet above Glen Laragain. From
here he could see the entire length of the glen, from Inverlaragain Cottage in
the east to the cemetery in the west. Here and there he could make out
blackened ruins, where the soldiers had done their work. He could see the
little out-house where he’d spent the night following the massacre. He could
see the thatched cottage where he and Ishbel had held hands and kissed. He’d
known more contentment during those few minutes than he’d ever known with any
woman he’d managed to charm or fumble his way into bed with.

Ishbel
.

He visualised the boiling inferno rising out of
Glen Laragain, turning every living thing into charred atoms. He saw that
strong, mischievous, innocent face melting before his eyes. She had come to
personify humanity, and the terrible end humanity would create for itself.

He continued to climb towards the southern ridge
of hills, trying to escape from Glen Laragain and the terrible things that Sam
and Shawnee had seen there.

It was early evening before Shawnee and Sam
located the soldier. He was squatting on an outcrop of heather high on the
southern slopes of
Meall Banabhie
.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” he said, his back to
the advancing figures. “Ah know we’ve had three days tae get used tae the idea,
but it hits ye over again when ye see this.”

He could hear Sam struggling to catch his breath
as he and Shawnee came to a halt beside him.

Andy pointed to a distant sprawl of grey walls
and grey buildings some miles to the south. “That’s Fort William over there;
where the River Nevis flows intae the loch. It’s no’ the Fort William Ah knew.
This here’s the real thing, where those soldiers came from.”

In front of the fort lay the elbow of sun-dappled
water where Loch Linnhe gives birth to Loch Eil. A motley collection of sailing
ships was dotted about the loch; from small, single-mast fishing boats to large
ocean-going vessels. Tiny wherries shuttled between the fort and one of the
larger ships anchored nearby.

“That’s been going on all day. They’re unloading
supplies for the garrison. The bigger boats are probably Royal Navy warships.”

“It’s incredible,” breathed Shawnee. “We haven’t
just landed in some enchanted little corner. We really are here.”

“About an hour ago Ah watched a long column of
troops marching towards the fort from the south. Ye could clearly see the
scarlet of their tunics.”

“Y’think they’re building up to something?”
asked Sam.

“Aye,” Macmillan replied succinctly. He turned
to look at the Americans. Shawnee was flushed with excitement and looked very
much in her element, as if she’d been born into this primitive and dangerous
world. It was the appearance of Sam, however, that captured Andy’s attention.
True to his word, he had allowed himself to be dressed in the native garb of
the Highlands, his phillamhor extravagantly colourful, with elements of blue
and scarlet in its pattern. He looked prickly and defensive, the victim of an
elaborate practical joke.

“Not one freakin word, okay?” he growled.

Shawnee giggled at the transformation in her
fiancé. “Andy, tell him, for Godsakes, he looks real handsome in it. He won’t
listen to me.”

Andy looked at the contrast of Californian tan
and Highland plaid and told the American what Jamie had said to
him
the
first day he’d gone native: “No one’s gonnae mistake ye for Rob Roy, but ye
look no’ bad.”

Sam grunted in reply, and Andy decided a change
of subject might be a good idea. He returned his attention to that distant hive
of activity.

“It’s only a matter of time before they come at
us again; ye can smell it in the air.”

“Well, at least from here somebody should be
able to see them coming,” Shawnee reasoned.

“Aye, Ah suppose. It’s a wee bit worrying that
Ah havenae seen any of Achnacon’s laddies, but. Ah would’ve thought this ridge
would be the perfect viewpoint for them.”

A knowing smile rippled over Sam’s dark scowl.
“Who d’y’think sent us up here; told us where to come?”

“Achnacon?”

“One of his kids reported back to the old guy.
Seems he was a bit concerned about you; thought y’looked kinda upset. Achnacon was
gonna come up to check things out personally, but we…” He glanced at his
fiancée, “…and by that, of course, I mean Shawnee, volunteered to come up
instead…”

Andy smiled sheepishly. “Ah had a few things tae
sort out. Ah didnae mean tae worry anybody.”

The Americans had remained standing, waiting for
the soldier to rise to his feet and descend with them into Glen Laragain. Andy,
however, showed no desire to leave, and Sam and Shawnee eventually sat down
beside him.

“This is where ye saw that explosion,” Andy said
quietly. “All this wouldae been melted, turned tae ashes in an instant. What
was it ye said, Sam; ye reckoned they sent a few missiles intae the north of
Scotland tae make sure there was no sanctuary anywhere in the country? Ah’ve
been trying tae work out how many missiles they must have had for them tae
attack such a low-priority target. Ah mean, what was the state of the planet by
the time they turned their attention tae here?”

Sam sat motionless, his face a mask. To his side
Shawnee had discovered a little clump of primroses, which she carefully traced
with her fingers without touching the flowers.

The soldier continued, his voice soft and
reflective: “Ah read somewhere that a butterfly can flap its wings in the
Brazilian rain forest and the wee breath of wind it creates can grow intae a
tropical storm.”

Sam looked at the soldier but said nothing.

“Ah was thinking earlier about all those
millions of butterflies fluttering about the jungle, having no effect on the
world around them. Ah think it’s the same with us. Ah think most of us go
through life without the slightest effect on the passage of history. But every
now and then there’s times when the tiniest change in events could’ve sent
human history off in a different direction altaegether.”

Shawnee smiled as she considered the idea.
“Y’think that’s what we’re doing, Andy? Flapping our wings; beating up a
storm?”

The soldier’s eyes remained fixed on that
distant outpost. The sun was now low on the horizon, painting the walls of the
fort a ridiculous shade of pink.

“Ah hope so,” Andy said, rising to his feet.
There was a damp patch on his kilt, where he’d been sitting on the moist
ground. “What was decided here was the dynasty that would rule Britain, just as
Britain was creating the greatest empire the world had ever seen. The world
that we all inherited was shaped by the British Empire. At first Ah was
horrified at the idea of changing history, altering events tae come. But now…?
Maybe Jamie and the others were right. Maybe the more damage we do in this
world the better.”