“Sure. Does he know his stuff?”
“Greg and Plato have saved my life more than once.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer and led Glen further along the motorway, arriving at a camper van. Glen followed Judy into a Fiat camper van, more like a small motorhome, in pretty good condition despite the fact that it was covered in dents and gashes and the paintwork was badly blistered. Once inside, Glen took off his small rucksack and sat opposite her on a bench seat, that also doubled as a bed, at a small table at the far end.
“Just excuse me for a minute.” Judy went down towards the cab where there was a cooker and small sink. He heard the splash of water, and she soon returned. Her scarf had been removed, and he noticed she had wiped some of the grime off her face. He was sure he could see a hint of make-up on her pale face. He looked around the inside of the motorhome and could see she had added a feminine touch wherever possible. Sure that the bench seat he was sitting on, once the table was collapsed, would become part of a small double bed, he estimated the home could probably sleep six.
“My manners are terrible.” She smiled. “I haven’t even offered you a drink.”
She slid along the bench and walked to a camping gas stove sitting on a hinged shelf and lit it, placing a dented aluminium kettle of water on top of it.
Glen twisted round so he could see and talk to her.
“The water’s safe,” she informed him. “We have a geek in the group that has some sort of kit he can use to filter it and check it. Coffee?”
“Would love one. Your group OK for coffee then?” he smiled.
“We have some. Not all of the vehicles in our area have been fully searched yet.”
“It won’t last forever, you know.”
The hiss of the gas stove filled the silence while she thought about his last statement. “I know. It plays on my mind. The group look to me for answers.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility on a pair of small shoulders.”
“Tell me about it.”
The kettle came to the boil and she poured the water over some coffee granules in two matching coffee mugs. She brought the steaming mugs over and placed one of them in front of him. “Sorry, but no milk. We have a couple of youngsters, so we save the powdered milk for them.”
“Your group get on well together? Fairly placid? Apart from opening fire on my team, that is.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. It was an accident. We came off far worse, remember?” she snapped.
“I know, but you need to make sure they keep their fingers off the trigger in future.”
“I’ll speak to them. And thank you for helping with our wounded.”
“We did the damage. I’m sorry some of them were killed.”
She sat down opposite him again and both took a sip of their already cooling coffee. The camper van was slightly warmer than the outside, partly driven by the gas stove that shared its heat, but there was still a chill in the air.
“So, what are your plans when your supplies run out?” Glen asked again.
She lowered her head, her blonde hair covering part of her face. Glen felt a twinge in his stomach, not quite sure what it was or why.
She looked up again, taking in his rugged, but trusting face. His dark hair, short, but not a crew cut, contrasted with a pair of piercing blue eyes. “I suppose I have three options. Stay here but scavenge further afield, roam the countryside, or find somewhere for us to make a home and live off the land.”
“What about the other groups along the motorway?”
“We’ve had a few minor skirmishes, but nothing we couldn’t handle. The northern group worries me the most. They’re by far the more aggressive of the two. We’ve heard gunfire further along as well, in both directions, so there are probably other groups further along. The future scares me. You don’t fancy staying, do you?”
“We have to follow our own path for a while.”
“And then?”
“Thought about it, like you, but haven’t come to any conclusions.”
“You could always come back here. I don’t mean live in this mess, but join us in finding something more permanent.”
Glen shocked himself by not immediately saying no. “I, well, we have a mission to fulfil before we make plans for ourselves.”
“And that is?”
“Start with London, check out who’s in charge.”
“Wouldn’t someone have been in contact by now?”
He sipped his coffee, avoiding the question. “Not bad.”
“Thank you.”
“Just look at where you’re living. The rest of the country appears to be in a similar state, so far anyway.”
“Someone will have to take control.”
“Yes, but who? That’s the million-dollar question.”
Greg popped his head through the door. “Five-star accommodation, I see.”
“What’s the final count?”
Greg looked at Glen, asking the silent question. Is it OK to say it in front of her?
Glen nodded.
“Four wounded, two pretty clean, one has a shattered arm, and the fourth, well, he’s in a bad way. But if looked after and given plenty of rest he could pull through. Three dead.”
Judy sighed. “I should have stopped it.”
Glen placed a hand on her hand that was resting on the table. “You weren’t to know someone would open fire.”
“Everybody is so nervous of the other groups. I’m scared of the other groups, I just can’t show it.”
“Do you have a gun?”
“No, there’s not enough to go round. I don’t like them anyway.”
Glen turned back to Greg. “We’ll come and have a look. Give us a few minutes. Can you give Rolly a breather?”
“Sure, boss.” Greg left to take over from Rolly and ensure the security of their vehicle and kit.
Glen unzipped his rucksack, fumbled around inside, and pulled out a small semi-automatic pistol. He placed it on the table, along with a magazine. He then pulled out a box of shells. “This is a Walther PPK. Keep this with you at all times.”
She picked it up. “I’ve never fired one before.”
“Then I’ll have to teach you before we go.”
“Are you married?”
Glen was shocked by the question. “Yes. No… I was.”
“Was she killed by the bombs?”
“Yes, our married quarters were wiped out. What about you?”
“I had a man. He was in the army like you. Sent him and his tanks to Ukraine. His troop got hit by a Russian air strike, and Mathew’s tank was destroyed.”
“I’m sorry. How long ago was that?”
“It happened in the first week. Bloody Russians. Why couldn’t they just settle for what they had? It’s a big enough country.”
“A lot of soldiers have died.”
“A lot more since. Were you there?”
“Even before it all kicked off. We lost some good lads too.”
A head popped through the door. “Ah, sorry to butt in, Judy, but George is asking after you in the hospital.”
“OK, Adam, I’ll be right there.”
Adam left to pass on the news, and Judy stood up. “My break’s over. I need to go and see if everyone is OK.”
Glen stood up too. “If the lads are in agreement, we’ll spend the night here.”
Her smile was genuine, and Glen got his first glimmer of a youthful face through the tiredness. She had clearly suffered from her experiences, weighed down by the burden of responsibility that had been laid on her shoulders and the living hell they had all found themselves in.
CHAPTER 15
Sergeant Saunders drove slowly, trying to keep the partially contaminated dust down to an acceptable level, the Land Rover leading the rest of the convoy towards the small town of Chilmark. Captain Redfern looked back through the gap between the two alert armed soldiers in the rear of the vehicle. Behind were two MAN six-tonne trucks, followed by a three Dennis buses and two civilian HGVs, some of the few surviving vehicles in the region. The Region had two more buses, a JCB, five other Land Rovers, a Fox reconnaissance vehicle, and a Scimitar light tank. The remaining vehicles, those that hadn’t been sucked into West Germany to feed the demands of the British Army fighting in Ukraine, had either been destroyed, damaged beyond repair, or made unserviceable as a consequence of the Electromagnetic Pulse, EMP, effects of the nuclear strikes. Alan felt sure that, once they could move further afield, other modes of transport, such as tractors, vans or industrial equipment, would be found.