“You and your group are more than welcome to join us, Mr Russell.”
“Providing we abide by your rules.”
“Every society has rules, Mr Russell. It’s how communities survive living together.”
“But the price they have to pay for that food? Slogging their guts out clearing dead bodies from towns and digging up contaminated farmland?”
“Stocks of food will eventually run out. It has to be replaced. What alternative is there?” asked Alan. Feel the cold air about you. The predictions are that the drop in temperature will continue for some time to come. Families will need homes and shelter.”
Russell scratched his beard again. Although listening to Alan’s arguments, he was slowly becoming impatient. He had his own plans and didn’t particularly want to share them with the army or any form of government for that matter. Further conversation for the moment was interrupted as Sian handed Russell, Scott and Alan a white bone china cup of Earl Grey tea.
Alan and Scott thanked her.
Alan took a sip. “Fresh milk?”
Russell hesitated. “We have a few cattle.”
“Won’t the milk be contaminated?”
“Sure it will. The grass available to the cattle is bound to be contaminated, and that will have been passed on to the milk.”
“That doesn’t worry you?”
“Of course. But we can’t afford to waste anything, you know that, Major.”
“I’ve not seen any cattle.”
Russell’s eyes blinked quickly, and his response was delayed momentarily. “They’re further afield. I have a couple of people watching over them. Best they’re kept away from the camp.”
“So, how many additional people do you have?”
“Half a dozen.”
“How many in your group in total?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Major Redfern.”
“It’s important that we know what’s occurring in our region, Mr Russell, that’s all. What are your short-term plans?”
“Let my people have a few days’ rest, then move on.”
“For the number of people I’ve seen in your camp so far, there’s no evidence of a large stock of supplies.”
Russell knew he was being backed into a corner. He didn’t like it and and his patience was now wearing very thin. “We have adequate supplies, Major. Let me worry about providing for my people.”
“I’d like to talk to your group.”
“Talk to them?!” exclaimed Russell, standing up and knocking his chair back and over as he did so.
Alan noticed Dawson’s hand slide towards the trigger guard of his assault rifle, but remained calm himself. He was pleased to see that Scott had made no sudden move either. The poker game continues, he thought.
Alan stayed seated. “They have a right to hear what their local government representative has to say and what the plans are being made to ensure their future survival, don’t you think?”
“They don’t need a bureaucracy to ensure their survival, Major. We’re more than capable of taking care of ourselves. I think this meeting is over.”
Alan stood up, Scott following his lead.
“I’ll report back to my brigadier and the regional governor.”
“And that means?”
“What happens next is down to the regional governor but, in the meantime, I would appreciate it if you and your group remained in the vicinity of your camp and leave all property and goods in the area alone.”
“A mobile prison, then?”
“Not at all, Mr Russell. Providing you leave the region, you’re free to leave at any time.”
“And that area is?”
“Our region consists of Gloucestershire Wiltshire and part of Dorset and Hampshire.”
“Nothing more to be said then, Major. Good day to you.” With that, Russell turned on his heel and stormed back into his tent.
“Thank you for the tea,” Alan called after him.
“If you gentlemen will come with me, I’ll see you safely off the camp,” offered Dawson.
“You’re fine,” Scott snapped back. “We know the way.”
Scott hoisted the radio onto his shoulder, but kept the SA80 in his hand and headed for their Land Rover, Alan walking alongside him. Dawson followed them, about five metres back, uncertain what to do.
As they arrived at the Land Rover, the other guard watched them menacingly. The two soldiers climbed into the cab, and Scott started the engine. He reversed the vehicle down the track, backing into the treeline when he saw a gap, enabling him to turn the vehicle and face the direction of travel. Shortly, they pulled out onto the road, leaving the track behind.
Scott spoke. “Stinks.”
Alan looked at him quizzically.
“He’s up to no good.”
Before Alan could comment, the radio crackled.
“Two-Zero, this is Two-Zero-Delta. Over.”
“Two-Zero. Go ahead. Over,” Alan responded.
“Motorcycle just left your previous location, headed into treeline. Over.”
“Roger that. Any other activity? Over.”
“Negative.”
“Understood. Returning to Zero-Charlie. Out.”
“Off to warn their buddies?”
“Seems so. I’ll let the RGC know. I don’t like the look of this, Scott.”
“Me neither.”
Alan picked up the handset again. “Hello, Zero, this is Two-Zero. Over.”
There was a ten-second delay before the brigadier responded.
“Zero. Go ahead. Over.”
“Not good, sir. Our suspicions are correct. Scavengers on a large scale. Additional Tangoes off-site. Threat imminent. Over.”
“What are your next steps, Alan?”
“They’re too big a force to take on in the open. Send recce out, confirm their strength, then deal with them.”
“Your plan? Over.”
As Alan explained briefly what he had in mind, a smile formed across Scott’s face.
“I like it. Brief me on the details when you return to Zero-Charlie. Out.”
“Shrewd bastard, sir.”
“You can’t mean me, Sar’nt Major.”
“That’s exactly who I mean.”
CHAPTER 24
Tom and Andrew brought in the last of the wood from outside and added the logs to those piled up next to the burning fire. Maddie and Lucy were in the kitchen, preparing food for the evening meal on the Aga which Tom had managed to bring back to life. They couldn’t believe their luck. After leaving the soldiers in the early hours of the morning, they had weaved their way further south, crossing the vehicle-encumbered M5, bypassing Bridgwater and Taunton until they arrived on the outskirts of Exmoor National Park. Two days had been spent scouting the area, looking for somewhere to settle in the short-term, but hopefully somewhere that would serve their needs for the longer term. Tom had taken them deeper and deeper into the park, eventually coming across an abandoned farm between Culverwell Wood to the north-west and Langridge Wood to the south. It seemed ideal, and the families were surprised that it had been abandoned — that is, until they found the two bodies in the main bedroom. The couple, lying side by side, had probably made a pact to die together rather than face the future that lay ahead of them. Two empty pill bottles were testament to their choice of suicide.
The two men acted quickly, removing the part decomposed bodies and burying them at the back of the farm. The smell was foul and permeated throughout the farmhouse but, removing all the remains and contaminated bedding, and using a liberal amount of disinfectant to wash everything down, it soon cleared. A few windows were broken, but nothing major, and the roof was intact. The ground was still covered with the customary layer of ash and dust. Strikes would have hit Bristol to the north-east, Cardiff on the other side of the Bristol Channel, Exeter, and, of course, Dartmouth and Plymouth. The Washford River ran close by, so water wouldn’t be a problem. Tom’s only concern was that they were close to a road, albeit a very minor one.