Outside

Chapter Thirty Seven

There are four of them that I can see. Big looking guys dressed in khaki with black boots and berets. They’re standing around next to a rusty old caravan and a barrier with a sign. It looks like quite a hastily-put-together operation. Luc and I both peer through the windscreen to try to make out the word on the square sheet of warped plywood.

‘Toll,’ we say in unison.

‘I suppose that means we have to pay to get through,’ I say, dreading the thought of approaching the barrier.

‘Looks like it. I’ve been this way before and it wasn’t here then. They look like privateers.’

Privateers are men who set themselves up as freelance guards. You pay them to escort you through dangerous areas. Some of them are the real thing, but usually it’s just a scam to extort money from scared travellers.

‘I don’t want to risk it,’ says Luc. ‘We’ll try our luck at the compound and maybe they’ll let us cut through. I’d rather pay the compound guards than a protection racket.’

He does a u-turn and we head back to find the compound entrance. An ominous droning sound follows us and I look back to see two privateers on motorcycles coming up behind the AV and flanking us. They smile and motion for us to slow down.

‘Shockplates,’ I hiss through my teeth.

‘Done it,’ Luc replies, slowing our vehicle to a halt, but leaving the engine running.

He opens the window a crack and one of the privateers draws up beside him and peers in. He doesn’t look much older than us.

‘Nice day,’ he says.

‘Mm,’ agrees Luc.

‘Where you headed? We’d be happy to escort you through to the other side of town. Lots of nasty folk about these days. Wouldn’t want you to run into any raiders, or the like.’

‘Thanks, but we’ve got business in the compound. We just had a few problems finding the entrance, but I remember the way now.’

‘Don’t worry, you can get access to the Compound from our strip. Follow me, I’ll show you how to get in.’

‘It’s okay,’ Luc replies calmly. ‘As I said, I’ve remembered where the main entrance is. Thanks anyway, for your help.’

He closes the window and starts driving, leaving the privateers behind. But, I knew it could never be as simple as that and, sure enough, they both start off in pursuit of us, firing rounds into the air and then, more alarmingly, at our vehicle, their two cohorts following on behind.

‘Will it ever end?’ I ask, as shots ricochet off the boot, accompanied by showers of sparks and the electric crackle of the shock plates.

As Luc drives, I scan the unbroken metal walls for any type of opening to escape into, but as yet I can see no entrance. Then, above the din, I hear faint shouts and see the bikers gesticulating to each other. The compound watchmen are shooting at the privateers from their towers, using powerful, mounted semi-automatic guns.

‘Hallelujah,’ says Luc, as two of the bikers drop their speed. Soon, all four finally cease their pursuit and turn back towards the shabby toll gate.

Without warning, a concealed metal door in the wall slides open and we nearly drive straight past it without noticing. Luc slams on the brakes and reverses, so we’re now directly outside the yawning opening. I lean out of my window to get a better look inside.

‘Come on in quickly, for God’s sake! We don’t want you shot and we don’t want those scoundrels back in here.’ An elderly man in a royal blue frock coat and matching top hat stands just inside the door and motions wildly for us to enter. We don’t need asking twice and Luc backs up the AV, swings around and drives through the narrowing entrance, as the door slides shut.

We find ourselves in a vast deserted field bordered on three sides by high green hedges. I glance back at the wall and can’t even see where the opening was. Then I turn back and look through the windscreen at the frowning, whiskered man who has ushered us into the compound. He’s tapping his foot and glancing down at his watch.

‘Come along, come along. Quickly now,’ he orders, like an impatient headmaster. ‘You know you’ve interrupted me from my judging and they shall all be wondering what’s keeping me.’

He’s holding a walkie talkie that suddenly demands his attention.

‘Sir, do you require close range assistance? Over.’

‘No, no Luis, I told you I’m perfectly capable of welcoming our guests myself. Tell Marcia I shall be along momentarily. Oh, over. Yes. Over.’

He stares upwards, and we follow his line of vision to one of the wall’s turrets, where I can make out the small figure of a guard holding a walkie talkie. The other guards have their gun sights trained on our AV which makes me recall one of Pa’s fond sayings about frying pans and fires. For some strange reason, I don’t feel at all scared. Maybe I’ve used up my quota of fear.

As we get out of the AV, our strange host clips the receiver onto his coat and it dangles there, awkwardly.

‘Jolly useful device.’ He pats the walkie talkie. ‘I always like to personally greet any visitors we get to our little town. I’ve got a nose for riff raff and I can tell you’re not.’

We walk around the vehicle to join the odd Dickensian man, who’s standing next to a small motorised golf cart. He climbs into the driver’s seat and motions to us to do the same. I stretch my arms and roll my neck which feels as though it’s got a thousand kinks in it. I hear a couple of clicks. Maybe Luc will rub my shoulders later.

‘Hello, Sir,’ says Luc, putting on an ultra-polite voice that makes me bite my lip to stop a smile escaping. ‘I’m Lucas Donovan and this is Riley Culpepper. We’re really grateful to you for helping us out back there. We’re on our way to Gloucestershire and we need to find a route through to avoid the toll outside. If you could point us in the right direction…’

‘Yes, very good, very good,’ the man replies absently. ‘The name’s Aubrey Rowbotham, Mayor of Chippenham. Welcome. But can we get a move on. I’m holding up proceedings. Jump in and we can talk on the way.’

We don’t seem to have much of a choice and so I sit next to the Mayor, while Luc balances precariously on the back of the little golf cart.

‘Will our vehicle be okay here?’ Luc asks.

‘Have you locked it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Perfectly safe then.’

We trundle across the vast field and, as we approach the hedge at the far end, I can make out the unmistakable murmur and hum of a large crowd of people.

‘Where is everybody?’ I ask. ‘I can hear voices, but I can’t see anyone.’

‘It’s a big day today,’ answers the Mayor. ‘You timed it just right for your visit. It’s our Autumn Harvest Fair. Everybody’s making their way over to Lowstone Castle Field. Been there since eight o’clock myself, being Mayor and all. I’m judging the livestock. Some damn fine beasts, let me tell you. Are you familiar with pigs?’

We both answer in the negative. I’m trying desperately not to giggle. Luc shoots me a warning glance and I bite my lip and look down.

‘Shame. Learn a lot from pigs, you know. Learn from most animals, but I do have a soft spot for our curly tailed friends.’

‘Who are those men outside your walls? Are they privateers?’ asks Luc. Are they genuinely charging a toll, or were they planning on robbing us?’

‘So many questions! Blasted nuisance, those ruffians. I’ve known them since they were potty trained and they’re still behaving like two year olds. It’s a bloody awful disgrace. Don’t get me started.’

‘You know them personally?’ I ask, surprised. ‘Are they from here then?’

‘They are. Unfortunately, one of the stupid nitwits is my great nephew, believe it or not. We tried locking them up for their numerous misdemeanours, but it didn’t do any good I’m afraid. They kept right on with their wicked ways, egging each other on, you know. I don’t think our gentle way of life suits them very much. Some of our less charitable citizens wanted to turn them over to the army, but we erred on the compassionate side and ended up expelling them. Broke their mothers’ hearts. But what could I do? I’ve got a whole town to take care of. Can’t expect everyone to put up with their shenanigans.

‘Now they’ve gone and set up their ridiculous Toll outside, they think they’ve got one over on old stick-in-the-mud Aubrey. Think I’m a silly old fool, but I’d like to see them try to do my job, they’d wet their pants at the responsibility. Sorry, sorry, do forgive me. You’re our guests. You don’t want to hear me wittering on about my problems. It’s a joyful occasion so let’s have some fun. Can you stay for the afternoon?’