After it Happened Boxset: 1-6 Omnibus Edition, page 34
Dan made a judgment call. “We have a rule here: nobody carries a gun unless trained and authorised. By me.” He spun the gun gently around on the table. “You’ll get this back in the morning, along with a good pump-action shotgun and spare ammunition. It’s easy to use and maintain. You’ll have a vehicle by then, you have my word.”
Martin had been played into a corner, and he had little choice but to trust the man.
Leah wandered in shortly after to find Dan sat at the table with a pathetically small gun. She gave him a puzzled look and a greeting.
“Morning, kid. Kit up, we’re going to buy a car.”
YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT
Dan took his Discovery, the now familiar three heads riding along looking out at the world.
They took spare fuel and a starter pack as they headed to the coach company where they found the rescue vehicle. Inside, they practised the building clearance in a real situation. Dan was very happy with Leah’s technique but unsure if she had the maturity to make a challenge and maybe shoot someone if she had to.
They selected a sixteen-seat minibus and set about getting it started and fuelled. They used a cigarette-lighter pump to inflate the tyres and left it running to settle the disused engine.
Dan asked Leah if she had a D1 category on her licence. She was confused and unhelpfully pointed out that she didn’t have a driving licence.
“Well, you’re going to have to drive mine then,” he nonchalantly declared. Her face slowly broke into her characteristic grin where she tried to hide how excited she was.
“You’re OK with the automatic gearbox now?”
She was. She had been watching his movements as he drove for months. “Yeah,” she tried, as coolly as possible.
“You sure? Because the last time you tried, you crashed into a forty-grand convertible, if you remember,” he said, enjoying goading her.
She smiled sweetly. “True. But now I know how to strip that weapon you’re holding in the dark. People change.”
Once again, he couldn’t argue with her logic.
He held the keys out to her but held tight to them as she tried to pull them away. “Don’t. Crash. It,” he said firmly.
“If I do, I’ll get you a new one for your birthday. When is it, by the way?” she asked innocently.
“Bugger off.”
They set off back home, Dan driving the minibus up front with Ash riding in the passenger seat.
He looked in his rearview mirror. There was a thirteen-year-old driving a nearly sixty-thousand-pound, three-litre diesel, off-road car. If that wasn’t bizarre enough, she was driving it well and carried two guns which she knew how to use.
The following morning came and went. The council had wholly agreed to allow the group to leave; the unanimous decision was that to prevent them would be to imprison them. They supported the minibus idea and they were given extra clothing as well as basic camping supplies. Dan had kept his word and returned the tiny revolver to Martin. He had also included a stock Remington with no attachments and showed the group the basics of operating and cleaning it. He added a box of ammo – hunting cartridges, but still quite a heavy load.
They left and life moved on easily enough.
DEAD WEIGHT
Penny called a council meeting that evening. She had been a rare sight amongst the occupants of the house in the last few days. For that matter, she had spent a lot of time in bed recently. She passed it off as just being a little under the weather but refused all offers of help from Kate.
She saw her personal matters as exactly that: personal.
She was in a bad enough mood as it was, and the pains in her belly were crippling some days. She knew it was something serious, something that needed doctors and hospitals and expensive machinery to take scans that consultants would meet and discuss. She walked into the meeting with her own dark cloud hanging over her, and her feelings made themselves known a little too strongly.
“We have eight people here who are not contributing,” she started, holding up a hand to stop the few protests she saw forming. “I know one of them is unwell after being pregnant, which is a passable excuse for part-time employment, but that still leaves seven who are a drain.” She went to continue but was hit with a wave of pain from her stomach.
Kate took the opportunity to jump in before the rant started again.
“I’ll stop you right there, Penny,” she said acidly. “The girl is malnourished and has been badly mistreated. It’s a miracle she didn’t die in labour, and that’s taken a toll on her body. She stays close to me and my team at all times, not negotiable, and as for the others, they are also physically very weak. I’ve got two in medical right now if you cared to check.”
Penny winced, fought back a cry of pain, and sat down.
Kate stood and continued. “That leaves five frightened, damaged and abused people who aren’t ready to work a chain gang for you, so you can–”
“Kate! Enough,” snapped Dan, not because he disagreed but because he saw the pain hidden in Penny’s eyes.
“What? You’re on her side?” Kate asked angrily.
“No. Look at her!” he said as Penny stood with some difficulty and turned to leave the room.
Dan stood too and only just made it in time to stop her from cracking her skull on the steps to the door.
Kate barged him aside to check her. Typical paramedic: she did everything she could to save a life regardless of what she thought of the person.
Kate called Penny’s name and was rewarded with a faint squeak through shallow breathing. Penny’s eyes screwed shut and her body went into spasm as the pain overtook her again.
Kate looked at Dan with wide eyes, and said “Trolley”. He ran to medical, ignoring the worried looks from those he thundered past, returning with the ambulance stretcher and raising the panic levels further.
Penny was wheeled through, and the shouted names from Kate ended the free time of her team. Dan followed and had the door shut in his face. He turned to the assembled crowd and tried to act blithe.
“It’s OK, everyone. Just let them do their jobs,” he said with a smile he was sure was as fake as a gold Rolex from a market stall.
He maintained the TV-presenter face as he strode into the dining room to find the council still seated, bar two members.
“Meeting adjourned, I think. Unless anyone has anything else?” he said.
If they did, they had probably forgotten it now.
FIELD PROMOTION
She guessed she was now the senior lab assistant, as there were no other candidates. She theorised with herself as she walked, reckoning that a cure was a little pointless now, but finding out the cause could be useful.
She spoke into her digital recorder again. “Theory: what if the virus mutates? Could natural immunity be beaten in this way? Are there any other effects of exposure to those immune to the lethality?”
She stopped recording, running the numbers through her head.
“Assuming a ninety to ninety-nine per cent non-immunity, based on available data, further mutation could be assumed to result in similar lethality, with an eventual population effect of point one per cent.”
She paused, unsure if she should theorise further without a more senior scientist to check her work. She told herself she was the senior scientist, probably in the whole country. So she recorded what she believed.
“A viral mutation would effectively eradicate the population of the country without a rapid reaction to bring all surviving humans into a controlled breeding programme. This would almost certainly require outside organisation. If the virus has spread worldwide, which must be assumed based on the transmission being believed airborne, then planetary population by humans is unlikely within a generation.”
Serious shit.
She walked on, looking for alternative transport to walking even though she had prepared herself by running on the treadmills every day.
“You’re like a hamster on a wheel,” the Chief Researcher used to say to her. “Maybe we should use you as a test subject.” He laughed, thinking it was funny. He was a sexist, racist pervert. If things were normal she would have written a formal complaint to the university that employed him. As it wasn’t, she had to tolerate his endless sick joke of waving a five-pound note at her and asking for a happy ending.
Still, he was dead now, and she didn’t mind one bit.
She walked on, planning to find a vehicle and enough supplies to get her on the way to the other site in Scotland. Their virology data would advance her theories one way or another.
Travel light and keep moving, she told herself. Avoid contact with others in case of viral mutation.
THE FRAGILITY OF LIFE
Penny was weak. The pain racked her in waves, taking her breath away. She wanted to tell someone. People said that sharing problems halved them.
Did that mean they believed that if she told someone then her cancer would shrink by half? Stupid thoughts by stupid people.
In the end, she had to tell Kate. The paramedic had seen the scars. Being a paramedic, she had learned to guess the surgery from the location and size of the operation scars.
“Penny,” Kate said softly, “when did you have the colonoscopy?”
Penny cried gently as she told the story of how the pains started and how the consultant had wanted to operate quickly. She had tried to refuse, saying that she was too busy at school to take months off to recover. The consultant had told her straight: no operation meant no chance of survival. She had the operation, leaving her deputy head in charge for nine weeks before she dragged herself back to work. She had put off the follow-up appointments, then it happened and there were no longer any doctors left to prescribe her course of chemotherapy. She was dying, and she knew it. She wept into Kate’s arms until she fell asleep.
~
Miles away, Kyle also wept pitifully. He did so in silence so they didn’t beat him again for being soft. They brought him out every so often, making him crawl like a dog with a lead around his neck. Soon, they said, soon he would lead them to his old home where they would take over what the others had built. Then they would give him a new kennel, they laughed. Kyle wished he were dead, but he lacked the courage to invite it from them or do it himself.
STEPPING DOWN
Penny asked to speak to Marie. She came straight away, thinking it was an emergency of conscience. Penny explained what she wanted of her, and extracted her promise to keep her word.
Penny called again for a council meeting that evening, a week after she had collapsed. She was helped into the room by Kate.
She thanked them for coming at short notice and promised to keep the matter brief. “I had bowel cancer last year. It was removed by operation, but I believe it has returned and will soon be the end of me.” She looked at the assembled faces, registering shock and fear. Kate had clearly been good for her word on confidentiality. “I fear I am of little use to everyone as I am, and it will only worsen for a short time until,” she paused, swallowing, “until I’m no longer with you.”
Tears began to show on her cheeks, mirroring the silent crying from others around the table.
“It is my wish that my seat on the council be passed on to a worthy candidate, effective immediately. To that end, I propose that Marie be considered for Head of House. If any of you have an alternative suggestion, please make it now.”
She tried to veil the tiredness she felt, but wanted nothing more than to lie down.
Nobody suggested another name as she looked at each face in turn.
“Very well. All those in favour?” she said, forcing a smile.
All the assembled raised a hand.
“My other wish is for people to start having babies,” she said, throwing out a shocking revelation. “Thank you for indulging me,” she said with a smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my doctor insists I rest.”
Kate helped her from her chair as the council watched her walk slowly from the room.
One by one, they rose and left without a word, deep in their own thoughts.
UNBURDENED
Dan went to Penny the next day at her request. He thought he should have brought a gift or something, seeing as she was in hospital and terminally ill. He said as much to her and she dismissed his frivolity. She asked Kate to give them some privacy, which Kate did without a word.
“I wanted to speak to you, for my own peace of mind,” she said weakly. She was propped up in bed and looked drawn. Pale.
“What do you want to know?” Dan asked, guessing what it was.
“Tell me about yourself. Who you were before, I mean,” she asked.
“I think you know some of it,” Dan said, stalling.
“I believe you were a military man. Maybe a policeman after that,” she said with a smile.
Dan smiled back. “Right on both counts. I was a Royal Military Policeman, then I joined the regular police after I got out.”
“Why did you leave?” she asked.
“Boredom,” said Dan honestly. “I wanted a family and I didn’t want my kids born and raised on some drab camp in Germany. I was sick of fighting with pissed-up squaddies, so I left.”
“And what then?” Penny urged, her smile wavering with a sudden pain.
“I started again from the bottom, which wasn’t fun, but I got married and had two kids. Emily would be seven now, and Michael would be four.” A single tear dropped suddenly from his cheek, soundlessly hitting the sheets of the bed and soaking away to nothing. Penny gripped his hand reassuringly. “They weren’t with me when it happened; they were with their mother. None of them made it. I was too upset to bury them.” Dan’s head dropped and the tears flowed freely as he let go of the stress.
“You were separated?” Penny asked gently.
“Divorced. Long story,” Dan said with a mirthless laugh, cuffing the tears away from his face.
“Will you make me a promise?” she urged him.
“What’s that?” he replied.
“Speak to Marie,” she said with a tremor of passion. “She can help you.”
Dan nodded, not entirely certain he would keep that promise.
“You had nobody else?” she asked.
“Parents. Didn’t speak to them much because of the divorce and the stuff before. I think they blamed me. I had a girlfriend; we hadn’t been together too long, but she died too.”
“What happened before?” she wanted to know.
“Oh, that is a long story,” Dan answered.
“Tell me,” she asked with a squeeze of his hand.
Dan told her. Told her everything. He told her of the guilt, the fear and pain of what he went through which led to the divorce and all the hurtful revelations that came with it.
When he looked up, he saw that Penny had drifted off to sleep with the pain medication and the exhaustion of her illness. Part of him hoped she hadn’t heard him, that she wasn’t burdened by his secrets and his pain. He hadn’t spoken about it for almost a year, but he did feel better to have shared it.
Dan stood, wiped his eyes, and put back on the mask he hid behind every day and left quietly.
NORMAL SERVICE RESUMED
Penny died in her sleep ten days later, kept comfortable in medical with liberal pain medication. Dan suspected that Kate had helped speed things along with the morphine. He never mentioned it but liked to think that she had and was grateful for it.
She was buried during a small ceremony, in a patch of woodland overlooking the lake where bluebells grew. Everyone sat through a sombre evening meal before Dan broke out a few bottles and poured lots of glasses.
He stood on a low table in front of the television and raised his glass. “To Penny,” he said, holding his glass up as tears rolled down his cheeks. The assembled survivors, a true cooperative society as envisaged by the few he first brought together, echoed his words.
The following morning saw the mood no higher, and routine tasks were given out. Dan sent Lexi and Joe out together to gather all the how-to books they could find in a library not far away. Neil made a fuel run with Steve running protection, and a logistics team went with them to clear any more supplies still in date.
Mike had continued with the solar power project, having requested the rest of the warehouse contents be brought back. Two scaffolding towers sat proudly in the space that now saw sunlight, as Jay had cleared almost a dozen trees with the help of some of the newest recruits. Dan had never learned their names, other than Pip, who grew healthier by the day. Pip had loved to read before, she said, and set herself up in the library where she read and sorted the books into order.
Mike and Carl were busy providing electricity to the farm, with further plans to do the same for the gardens. That included the cottage on the edge of the now blooming walled utopia.
Maggie and Cedric spent a lot of time there, having cleared it out piecemeal. Dan was invited to look at it when he stopped to see their progress one day. It was a lovely place with a large garden and three bedrooms. They had hot water there, courtesy of the solid fuel burner. With electricity, they would have power to the large shower in the wet room.
Their formal request to live there permanently came in spring and was agreed to by the council. Before Dan could raise objections from a safety perspective, Marie asked if they were not overly exposed and without protection. Their firework alarm system was extended and a CB radio was to be installed in the house as well as the gardens themselves. Dan also insisted that Cedric keep possession of a Remington shotgun and ammunition. These caveats satisfied, they moved in as soon as their solar panels and additional hot water tank were fitted.
They were probably the happiest people there. Even happier than Leah, who had become bored with endless training and no live deployments. Even after he had explained that no matter how good she was, she wasn’t going out alone until she was older, Dan’s thoughts of getting her a short-wheelbase Defender were shelved for now, despite him having recovered the right vehicle. He didn’t want to risk a teenage strop where instead of going to her room and slamming the door to play loud music, she took a vehicle and automatic weapons.
