Outside

Chapter Twenty Nine

After the repeated terror attacks all those years ago, most of the British Army was recalled from overseas to take care of the increasing threats to public safety. But quite soon afterwards, our government more or less collapsed into nothing. The cabinet ministers fled in panic from a decimated and dangerous London.

A new emergency Security Council established itself in the capital, made up of ambitious minor politicians and business tycoons whose empires had been destroyed. But the predominant members of this Security Council were, of course, the military men.

Over the years, the armed forces have been reduced to several ragged units scattered throughout the country, only as good or bad as the generals who lead them. The local Dorset Barracks liaises amicably enough with our Talbot Woods Perimeter guards and so I’m assuming the army is welcomed by most of the population.

A few secure compounds refuse to acknowledge the army’s authority and deny them access but in these situations the army’s policy is to back-off. Anything could be going on behind those walls, but the soldiers don’t interfere. They’re now the only remnant of legitimate power left in the country and they do a passable job of preventing the total disintegration of society. But chaos and terror are always simmering away beneath the scarred surface, ready to erupt given the tiniest exit to explode out of.

We drive alongside a double layered barbed wire fence until we reach a set of closed metal gates. The armed soldier at the checkpoint moves his finger up and down to tell Luc to open his window. I notice two other soldiers with machine guns lightly trained in Luc’s direction. My nerves kick in. The soldier bends his head slightly, to hear what Luc has to say.

‘Hi, my name’s Lucas Donovan and this is Riley Culpepper. My father is Eddie Donovan. We’ve come up from the Talbot Woods Perimeter on the South Coast. Could we speak to Major Driscoll please?’

‘Turn off your engine please and wait here,’ the soldier says, ignoring Luc’s question. He goes into a small hut and speaks on the radio. I can’t hear the content of the conversation. While we wait in the AV, three soldiers approach us.

‘Can you vacate the vehicle,’ one of them says.

I look at Luc and he nods at me. We get out of the AV and stand by the hut as they thoroughly check over our vehicle.

‘It’s just routine,’ Luc says. ‘They would do it whoever we were.’

‘Okay,’ I reply, only slightly reassured.

They complete their task quickly and efficiently, even using small mirrors on sticks to check the underside of the vehicle. They finish their search and take the machine gun which we hadn’t been able to fit in the hidden compartment.

‘You’ll get this back on exit, Sir,’ says one of the soldiers to Luc, completely ignoring me.

Next, they pat us down, making us stand with our arms out. It’s humiliating and I flush with discomfort. When they’re done, my heart rate speeds up. What if they don’t believe our reason for being here and they contact Luc’s father? We can’t be turned away now that we’re so close to getting somewhere. But I needn’t have worried. The soldier in the hut soon returns.

‘You’ll be escorted through in a moment, Sir. Please get back in your vehicle.’

After about five minutes, we see two soldiers in a jeep driving towards us. They turn their vehicle around before they reach us and the soldier at the checkpoint, motions for us to follow them.

We drive through what appears to be a small well-tended, but bleak, town, made up predominantly of black and green prefabricated buildings. It’s good to be gliding along a smooth road for a change and my body welcomes the transition from the relentless bone-jolting it’s become accustomed to. We pull up behind the jeep in front of a long, low, single-storey brick building. The two soldiers exit the jeep and come to greet us. We both get out of the AV and stand awkwardly.

‘Hello, Lucas, Miss Culpepper, I’m Major Robert Cornell and this is Captain Michael Lewis.’

The Major is a tall, thick-set man in his fifties, with a florid face and broken veins that suggest he likes a drink or two. The Captain is of a similar build, but with a healthier tanned complexion and small, piercing blue eyes, which he trains on Luc and me with suspicion.

‘This is an unexpected pleasure,’ the Major continues with false cheer. ‘Good to meet you. What brings you all the way up here?’

‘I’ll be meeting my father, Eddie Donovan, here. He should arrive tomorrow. Would it be possible to wait for him?’

‘Your father? That is a surprise.’ He smiles at his colleague as he shakes Luc’s hand and nods in my direction.

I take an instant dislike to both of them. It’s as though they’re in on some private joke at our expense and I feel out of my depth and ill-at-ease.

‘I met Major Mark Driscoll when I was last here with my father,’ Luc says, his voice strong and confident.

‘Yes,’ replies Cornell. ‘He is no longer with us.’ He doesn’t elaborate. Does that mean he’s dead or merely stationed elsewhere? ‘You must be tired after your journey.’

Another soldier appears at our side and Major Cornell gives him orders to show us to our accommodation.

‘A bit basic I’m afraid, but with such short notice…’ He tails off. ‘Anyway, freshen up and Rogers here will bring you to dinner at twenty hundred hours. Until then.’

Rogers shows us to a small dilapidated terrapin which is to be our guest quarters. It consists of a bedroom with two single beds and a grotty bathroom that smells damp despite the hot summer. But it’s spotlessly clean, even if it is in dire need of redecorating.

We each take a well-deserved hot shower and then sit on our beds to rest for an hour or so, until we’re summoned to dinner in the Officers’ Mess. But then, out of the blue I have panic attack. I feel light headed and overwhelmed.

‘Luc, I don’t feel well.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s my head… it’s pounding and I feel like I’m going to be sick.’

But the truth is I can’t bear the thought of dining with the two officers we met earlier. I’m exhausted with no reserves of energy left to talk to strangers.

I can tell by the set of his jaw that Luc’s not happy with me for wimping out at the last minute and leaving him to go on his own. I don’t blame him. I would’ve been more than annoyed.

‘You better stay here then,’ he says, not looking at me. ‘I’ll go on my own.’ But then his face softens a bit. ‘Look don’t worry, Riley. I’ll try and get the information we need. Just… just try and get some sleep.’

He takes my hand and briefly kisses my cheek to show he isn’t too cross with me, and goes out to join the soldier who will escort him to dinner.

I feel guilt and relief at the same time. I just know there’s no way I could face the brashness of those men in my current emotional state. Not for the first time, I wish I was back home with my family, grieving for Skye in safety. Poor Luc has to take it all on his shoulders now, without any support from me. At least he vaguely knows these people.

I stare out of the window and see soldiers everywhere. I realise I haven’t eaten for hours, but I’m too scared to venture out to the AV on my own to get food. Then I remember that even if I did get an attack of bravery, I don’t think we’ve got any food left and I don’t have the keycard anyway. I think longingly of the proper evening meal Luc will now be eating and hope he’ll smuggle some out for me. Still, I’d rather be hungry here in this room, than socialising with a roomful of soldiers.

This was supposed to be my opportunity to do something for Skye, to find information and be brave. God, I’m a wimp. But after the events with the raiders and then Salisbury, I have lost my courage. I literally feel weak with fear at the thought of having to speak to anybody else I don’t know.

I pull the thin orange curtain closed, lie down on one of the beds, on top of the scratchy brown blanket and fall asleep.

I can’t breathe and I’m struggling to remember where I am in my semi-conscious state. I feel like I’m suffocating and now, with rising panic, I realise someone’s hand is covering my mouth. I open my eyes.

‘Mmmphf!’ I try to scream, but the huge hand is clamped too firmly. Bewildered and terrified, I stare into the dark eyes of a black, uniformed soldier. To him, I must look like a frightened pony – eyes wide in fear and hyperventilating through my nose in noisy puffs.

‘Quiet!’ he whispers loudly. ‘You’re in…’

‘Mmmmph!’ I try to yell for somebody to help me. His hand is still over my mouth and I do my best to open it so that I can bite down along the side of his forefinger. But he gets wise to this straightaway and squeezes my mouth closed with his fingers, bruising my cheeks painfully.

‘For Christ sake, just listen a minute or you’re gonna get hurt,’ he hisses with a strong country accent I can’t place. He pulls my face up close to his and I try to twist away. He looks African or Jamaican. I’ve never even seen a black man before.

Sleep still clings to me and I feel disorientated, wondering where the hell I am and why I’m being attacked. Then it all comes flooding back: I’m at Century Barracks, Luc is at dinner with the big brass and I went to bed early. Now, here I am, being jerked awake by this huge soldier who’s in my room with his hand crushing my face. I stop struggling for a moment, so I can breathe through my nose and also because I need him to relax the grip he’s got on my cheeks.

‘God, that’s better,’ he relaxes too. ‘I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t let you scream or they’ll have us both.’ He glances anxiously towards the door. ‘You’re in the crapper if you stay here. I can help you and your boyfriend get out, but we haven‘t got much time. They‘ll be here in a minute and you won‘t like what they got planned for you.’

His words start to register and a new kind of fear replaces the one I felt just a second ago.

He seems genuine. Scared and anxious, but with a kind-ish face. But, what do I know? He could just as easily be a mad man out to kill me. After the last few days, my mind is all over the place. I can’t believe I’m facing yet another bad situation.

‘Right,’ he says, ‘I’m gonna let you go and then I’ll back away from you. Please God don’t scream or we’re both finished, okay?’

I nod and show what I hope to be assent in my eyes.

‘And letting go, and backing away,’ he says slowly with a sardonic half smile.

We stare at each other warily, for about five seconds.

‘Right. Hello Riley, I’m Denzil. Here’s the short version.’ He speaks quickly and quietly. ‘As of about three months ago, Luc’s dad became Century Barracks’ number one enemy. I don’t know the details, but he must’ve done something to seriously piss of the Major because, for weeks now, they’ve been planning some kind of retaliation.

‘Your bloke obviously has no idea of this or he wouldn’t have brought you within twenty miles of this place. They can’t believe their luck up at the mess hall and they‘re humouring him till they decide what to do. They knew he was lying about meeting his dad, and now they’re dreaming up how they can use him to ruin Eddie and get some revenge.’

‘God, we‘ve got to get him out of there,’ I whisper back. ‘But do they know who I am? My father’s on really good terms with the army. He‘s one of their main suppliers.’ Even as I say the words, I know they sound pompous and pathetic.

‘Who knows you’re here?’ asks Denzil.

I don’t reply.

‘Exactly,’ he says. ‘They’ve guessed you’re AWOL. Your parents would never in a million years let you out of your Perimeter alone. Right now, you’re a fine-looking young female in a barracks full of frustrated men, whose boyfriend’s family business is seriously irritating them. I don’t fancy your chances.’

‘Okay.’ I swing my legs off the bed, so glad I’d kept my clothes on. ‘How do we get out?’ I hear the shake in my voice. ‘What’s the time? Is Luc still eating with them?’ I bend down and slip my flip flops onto my feet. ‘Why are you doing this anyway? Helping us, I mean.’

‘Selfish reasons,’ he replies. ‘I’ll explain later, when we’ve got out of here.’

‘You mean you want to come with us?’

‘You won’t escape without me.’