Shaheen staggered out of the jagged cavern that was all that was left of the office block that had been his place of work for the last ten years. Although it was daylight outside, the sky was now a deep dull grey as clouds of nuclear fallout rose up in a canopy of deadly nuclides and debris. A red glow flickered on the underside of the clouds, making a myriad of changing patterns, the mushroom cloud a modern-day skyward piece of art. Looking to his left down Lloyd Street, he could see plumes of thick black smoke spiralling aloft to join the rapidly expanding mass of filth and poison. He staggered slightly as he brushed dust and particles of masonry off his torn suit jacket and spat out the grit that ground between his teeth. His head spun as he dropped to his knees in between the ragged chunks of concrete, remnants of the building he had just left, his stomach heaving. Champagne and canapés splattered the dust-covered pavement as his body ejected the remains of last night’s office celebration of the managing director’s birthday. He had drunk more than planned after being informed that, once the dust settled on the European standoff between NATO and Russia, promotion was in the offing. He heaved again and again, emptying the contents of his gut until all he could retch up was the burning taste of bile. Through watery eyes, his head swimming, he couldn’t mistake the bright red flecks of blood decorating last night’s food. He retched until his sides ached and then became even more painful. A sudden trembling in his gut was followed by a putrid smell as he evacuated his bowels. A foul-smelling, blood-streaked stream of diarrhoea ran down his legs as he staggered to his feet, only to collapse, his legs could no longer support him. On his knees again as more foul-smelling liquid left his body at both ends, he scratched at his head, a sudden irritation that was in competition with the rest of the warning signals his body was emitting. The relief was momentary as he rubbed his scalp hard, mixing flakes of skin with bomb debris. A strange texture confused him as he brought his hand down to investigate, the clumps of matted hair causing his eyes to open wide, the discovery adding to the fear that was now racing through his mind. He was an intelligent man, a degree from Oxford University testament to that. Although a Masters in Maths and Politics, he didn’t need a science qualification to inform him of what was occurring inside his wrecked body. As he lay down, the flickering lights of the burning city reflected in his dull eyes, his thoughts were of his parents and the woman who worked in the company office, who he hoped to take for dinner one day. Instinctively, as he closed his eyes, he knew it unlikely they would open again, or he would ever leave the spot he now occupied.
Purgatory — Hell on Earth…
CHAPTER 3
The soldiers lined up along the fence in front of the only entrance to the Regional Government Centre, their weapons at the ready. They looked intimidating and ominous behind their black respirators, eyes peering through the large single visor of their army issue General Purpose Respirators, at the mob in front of them. The camouflaged NBC suits, designed to protect the soldiers from the nuclear fallout, added to the aggressive stance being shown by the regional controller for this area. Plumes of frozen breath were exhaled from the black masks, baleful, menacing. The mob was screaming insults and demands, moving ever closer to the thin line of Regular and Territorial Army soldiers. The crowd’s eyes were wide with fear, pain and a strong hint of madness. Beneath their thick coats, they shivered. Blankets draped across their shoulders, and scarves and headscarves wrapped around head and ears for additional warmth hid the horrific burns many were suffering from. Countless numbers of the civilians had raw, open sores, their hair shrivelled and burnt, skin melted into a sickly sheen. These were the survivors, ordinary members of the public that had found the strength to make it here. Many couldn’t come. Many that had survived the exposure to super-lethal radiation and related thermal injuries, the consequences of a nuclear blast, were too sick to make the journey, suffering from severe radiation sickness, coughing and heaving up blood. They remained behind at the encampment, dependent on family members or friends to bring them food and water. Attempts had been made to set up tents closer to the Regional Government Centre, but that had been discouraged very quickly, the army and police forcing them away. Rows of large military ridge tents had been erected further away. The encampment had been set up on two wide open spaces, close to the banks of the River Nadder, to house the homeless.
“We’re starving out here.”
“Let us in. We need water, for God’s sake.”
“I bet you lot are living like kings.”
Also with a scarf wrapped around his neck for additional warmth, the captain in command of the small force present looked behind as more soldiers joined him, lining up on the far side of the four-metre, razor wire-topped mesh fence. It made a good boundary line, identifying no-go areas, but certainly wouldn’t stop a determined assault. He called the men forward, through the gate, to line up either side of him. He watched the ever-growing crowd, dust being kicked up from the layer of ash and fine powder that covered the once grassed area in front of the entrance to the site. The ash, although only mildly contaminated now, was still potent enough to exacerbate the illnesses already suffered by many. Continuing exposure would eventually affect the others. Generated by a small nuclear device detonated on top of RAF Chilmark, the wind had driven the heavily contaminated particles north-west, away from the RGC, but unfortunately drove the cloud across the village of Chilmark itself and other populated areas. Above the captain, the skies were dark, a layer of particles caused by the 300 million tons of dust thrown up into the atmosphere as a consequence of the detonations. Occasionally, a shaft of light from the sun would pierce the barrier, bathing the selected spot in a warm, yellow glow. But it would be many years before the Earth experienced the full benefits from its solar benefactor. In the meantime, the United Kingdom would slip ever deeper into a period of desolation as the temperature steadily declined, and the bitter cold made surviving an even greater challenge.
The mob moved closer, pushed from behind by the ever-growing additions to the crowd. The captain looked sideways at his sergeant, concern showing in his eyes as the front edge of the crowd moved to within three-metres of his soldiers and the gate. He nodded.
The sergeant lifted the megaphone close to his mask. “Stay back. You must stay back.”