Now England is among the most shut-off countries in the world. Closed borders, no transportation – only a select few own motor vehicles, as most people can’t get hold of enough fuel to run them.
The military spasmodically maintain one main road between each major settlement but most of the old roads are overgrown and crumbling, so you need some serious transportation. Tanks are best, though any AV will usually be up to the job. People reluctantly walk or, if they’re lucky, ride a mountain bike or a horse. Most people stay home though, as you risk your life when you venture into public areas.
There are always food shortages and a non-existent health service. We’re so far gone we couldn’t get back if we tried. Our taken-for-granted civilisation, hard-won over hundreds of years, has crumbled back into dark-age chaos. Sixteen years is a long time; the difference between one life and another.
And it’s onto these roads we are soon to go. We need to be fully prepared for anything we might encounter. Weapons are a top priority. We’ve managed to get hold of three machine guns, a couple of revolvers, ammunition and two serious-looking hunting knives. The rest of our packing list looks like this:
4 lighters
2 large boxes of matches
2 torches
6 candles
4 blankets
A length of rope
A ball of twine
Spare clothing
Water purifying tablets
Basic medical supply kit
48 litres drinking water
Food
100 gold coins
350 silver bits
2000 cigarettes to trade
1 crate whisky to trade
30 bars Swiss chocolate (way past its sell-by-date) to trade and to eat
~
It’s been surprisingly easy to plan our journey and hide the supplies. I’m ashamed to say I stole most of it from Pa’s underground stores. But I’ve told him what I did in my note, so none of his workers will get into trouble for the theft.
It’s our good fortune and Pa’s shady activities that’s given us such easy access to supplies. We’re definitely among the luckiest in the world when it comes to standards of living and we’ve got some pretty strong currency in the form of Pa‘s illicit goods.
We plan to borrow Luc’s mother’s all-terrain AV which is state-of-the-art and custom-built for maximum comfort and security. It’s fitted with full-coverage exterior shock-plates, transparent armour multi-layered glass with blackout mode and run-on-flat tyres. It’s also got a hidden compartment beneath the passenger-side footwell, large enough to take a gun and some emergency provisions.
Three days to go and the tension is unbearable.
Chapter Eight
The AV’s engine sounds obscenely loud in the quiet of the morning. I’m sure, any minute now; we’ll hear raised voices and see Pa running up the Donovans’ driveway in confusion and rage. But, apart from the engine’s noise, I hear nothing.
Chilly and damp, I’ve got that half-asleep, grubby, early morning feeling. My eyes itch and the skin on my face feels raw and prickly. I wish the heater would hurry up and kick in. I forced myself to eat some breakfast before leaving the house and I can feel it now, lodged in my throat and chest – hard, undigested lumps of cereal.
All in all, I’m having major second thoughts and if I could click my fingers and be safely back in bed, I would do it in an instant. But we’ve got it all planned out and we’re going to do this thing.
Luc crunches the gears and the AV glides down the driveway and out onto the tarmac road. There isn’t a soul around. A skinny brown fox trots along the pavement and makes a left into Mrs Hannigan’s garden. A faint light glows on the blue black horizon behind the avenue of trees but the stars are still glimmering, bright and winking in the not-quite-morning sky. Dawn has all but broken and the translucent moon is fading.
We turn off our familiar road and onto Elgin Avenue. Luc turns to me and grins his cheeky grin. He gives my knee a squeeze.
‘Okay, Riley, time to duck down.’
I crouch on the floor in front of my recently vacated passenger seat and pull a blanket over my head. It’s very spacious really, not like a regular car. Luc grabs the partially full holdall from the back seat and places it on the passenger seat, so it also rests on top of my crouched body. In this way, no one will be able to see me if they peer into the vehicle.
‘You okay?’ he asks with a smile in his voice.
‘Mmm hm.’ I feel the AV turn and guess we must now be on Glenferness and heading for the gates. I feel us go slowly over the bridge.
‘You sure you’re alright?’ he asks again.
‘Yep, I’m fine.’ I giggle nervously. ‘Good luck.’
‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘You’d better not speak anymore until we’re clear of the gates.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay,’ he repeats quietly.
The vehicle slows and I guess we’ve reached the Perimeter gates. We come to a steady stop and I hear the electric window go down and the engine switch off. The birds are making an almighty racket. Not being a very morning person, I’m never awake to hear the dawn chorus, but they’re giving us a rousing send-off today.
‘Morning,’ Luc greets one of the guards.
‘Alright, mate.’ I recognise Liam’s voice. ‘I’m on with Duke this morning. He’s just brewing up.’ Then he lowers his voice. ‘You sure about this?’
‘Yeah, we’re all set.’
We let Liam in on our plan a couple of days ago. We needed him to pretend to receive a message from Luc’s parents, asking for their son to join them in Southampton. We also thought he should know what we’re really doing and where we’re headed, just in case we meet trouble along the way.
We plan to head for the Century Barracks in Warminster, where Chambers was sighted. Once we get there, we’ll gather as much information as we can and try to track him across to the West Country. My grandparents live over in those parts, so we’ll end our journey there rather than turning back to Bournemouth.
Ma’s at my grandparents’ house and I had the cowardly realisation I’d rather face her tears than Pa’s anger when we finally end our journey. I’ve never been there before but Luc’s done a lot of travelling with his parents and assures me he knows the way. So our plan is to end up at their place once we find Ron Chambers.
We know things could change once we get moving. New information could come to light at any time or we could run into any amount of unforeseen danger. So Liam has agreed to alert our parents and the guards to our plan if we haven’t reached my grandparents’ house by the end of the month.
He was against the idea at first, fearing for our safety and for his position. But Luc swore to guarantee his job. I asked Liam what he would do if a member of his family had been murdered and the killer had got away with it. I also think he feels guilty that he was one of the guards on duty at the time of Chambers’ escape, and so he’s agreed to keep our secret.
‘Okay, I’ll get the gates,’ Liam says. ‘Good luck.’ Then he shouts, ‘Mr Duke! It’s Lucas. He’s a bit earlier than scheduled. Shall I open the gates?’
‘Hold on!’ Something clatters loudly to the floor and I hear the out-of-breath guard come marching out. ‘Morning, Lucas, you’re up nice and early.’ Charlie Duke’s rich Dorset accent fills the morning air and I picture his ruddy face.
He’s never ever said more than two words at a time to me, (I think all the guards are too wary of Pa to speak to us) although he always seems cheerful, with blue eyes that disappear into his face when he smiles. He looks how I would imagine a farmer to be – thickset with apple red cheeks and huge square hands.