“I wouldn’t. Anyway, it won’t be for much longer. I’ve just been biding my time until I get out of here, and you bringing that helicopter here has just changed everything.”
27
In an ideal world, Cooper thought, which this place was most definitely not, he’d have been in and out of the castle in a matter of hours. As it was, they’d already been hanging around for most of the day and he expected to be around for a little longer still, probably overnight. He’d been to some hellish, war-torn places during his years of service, and he’d had more than his fair share of awkward situations to try and resolve through diplomacy, and this was no different. Although Jackson was keen to leave the castle, Jas most definitely was yet to be convinced. Cooper thought it better to spend a little time trying to get all of them onside rather than going in heavy-handed and screwing everything up. But even Cooper’s patience was being tested tonight. He felt like they were going around in circles, and he had to keep reminding himself they were actually trying to help these people. Every time he made a suggestion, he felt like it was being shot down by Jas and a few others without any consideration. He was on the verge of getting the others together and flying back to Chadwick.
The small classroom was packed and stiflingly hot, overheated by a paraffin heater at one end. It was brightly lit by lamps running off a series of connected extension cords which were, in turn, connected to a small but bloody noisy petrol generator outside. Condensation was running down the windows. Harte felt increasingly uncomfortable, and not just because of the heat. He’d been shocked by the things he’d seen and heard since returning to the castle. The atmosphere had changed markedly, and it seemed to be continually changing still, almost from minute to minute depending on who he was talking to.
He’d already learned that the looting expedition to Chadwick he’d been a part o had been the last time anyone had left the castle. It seemed that, since then, some of the direction Jackson had previously provided had been ignored. The wooden construction to investigate the well, which he himself had helped put together many weeks ago, remained in exactly the same unfinished state as when he’d last seen it. There were huge piles of waste gathered around the edges of the courtyard and, as he’d already discovered, the cesspit and toilets were full to overflowing. There’d also been a fire in one of the caravans; he’d noticed after talking to Lorna earlier. There was smoke damage and black scorch marks around several of the windows, but no attempt had been made to do anything about the wreck.
Harte positioned himself at the edge of the group, quite near the front, not completely sure where he should be sitting. He took comfort in some of the familiar faces he could see—Lorna, Caron, Driver, and Howard—but he now found himself aligning more with Donna, Richard, and Cooper. He hadn’t seen it, didn’t even know for sure if it really existed, but their idyllic island of Cormansey, despite its apparent bleakness and basic lifestyle, seemed his idea of heaven tonight. Too bad a vociferous handful didn’t seem to share his opinion. He could tell that Cooper was getting annoyed.
“I don’t see what the problem is. We’re offering you a place that’s safe and free from walking bodies and all the complications they bring.”
“Well, why don’t you just fuck off back there, then?” Jas said unhelpfully. He’d been increasingly obstructive since this “town hall” meeting had begun what felt like hours ago now. Unfortunately he seemed to have plenty of vocal support. “Listen, I agree with what you’re saying in principle, but this island of yours is completely the wrong place. You’re cutting yourself off.”
“Cutting ourselves off from what?” Donna demanded, unable to believe what she was hearing. “There’s fuck all else left.”
Jas continued. “I think it’s better to stay here and wait a little longer. Here we’ve got access to what’s left of the entire country. Better than some barren little island with half a dozen houses.”
“But can’t you see? The island is much more than that. It’s the best bet for all of us. I’ll be honest, there’s still plenty more work to be done, but with more of us there it’ll be finished quicker and we’ll be self-sufficient. It’s clean and safe.”
“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life living in some hippie-loving, new-age commune,” Kieran said.
“Seems to me we’re all going to have to become self-sufficient whether we like it or not,” Jackson interrupted, beginning to sound as frustrated as Cooper. “There’s no alternative now, is there? There’s no government anymore, no benefits system, no McDonalds, no utility companies, no Internet…”
“No government.” Ainsworth smirked. “Sounds pretty good to me when you put it like that.”
Jackson sighed. “Come on, grow up.”
“All we’re trying to do is be realistic, that’s all,” Donna said, exasperated. “The supplies here on the mainland will run out eventually and—”
“—and by then we’ll all be dead and buried,” Jas said. “With only this many of us left, we’ll be picking meat off the bones for years yet. There’s nothing you’ve got on your island that we haven’t got here, but there’s plenty here that you’ll go without. You’re isolating yourselves unnecessarily. Cutting yourselves off like this seems bloody futile.”
“I think you’re looking at this completely the wrong way,” Donna said, refusing to give up. “You’re still thinking about things in terms of your old life and all the stuff you used to need. All that’s gone now. Everything’s changed. Here’s an example—cars and roads. We don’t need them anymore to any great extent, because you can walk the entire length of the island in a couple of hours.”
“I understand that, but why should I do without cars? There are millions of them just lying around. I could have any car I could ever dream of, it’s just a question of finding it and getting it started. What you’re suggesting is limiting yourselves to some kind of medieval lifestyle.”
“You’re the one living in a castle,” Richard said under his breath.
“No, we’re not limiting ourselves,” Donna protested. “Bloody hell, Jas, what do you think’s going to happen when the bodies are completely finished and you finally pluck up courage to go back outside? Are you just going to flick a few switches and turn the world back on again? You won’t get the power working, or the gas. What happens when all the batteries in all the cars finally run flat, or when all the fuel’s used up and you’ve drained every tank dry? What do you do then? You’re going to end up building yourself an island of your own, and you’ll be as stranded and cut off as we are.”
“Bollocks.”
“She’s right,” Jackson said, speaking just to Jas initially, but then turning around so that he could address everyone in the room. “It’s all about economies of scale now. The world’s too far gone to pull back from the brink. We’ve got no choice but to go right back to basics, and no matter what you say, Jas, Donna’s right. Your world is going to keep getting smaller and smaller until it’s just you. They’ve already anticipated that on the island. And because of their location and their attitude, they’re going to try and build something from the ruins instead of just picking meat off the bones, as you put it. I don’t know about the rest of you lot, but I think our best bet is to leave here with these people and head for the island.”
“I don’t,” Jas said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, but also strangely unemotional and detached. In the expectant pause before he spoke again, the only sound was the steady low thumping of the generator outside. It sounded like a headache felt. “Leaving the mainland would be a mistake,” he continued, “and it’s atake you’ll find hard to put right. They’re not going to operate charter helicopter flights to fly you back if things don’t work out, are they? Anyone who leaves here will be risking everything. We’d be completely cut off. What happens if things go wrong? Where’s the escape plan?”