It was by no means an easy time for them, though, and for every few successes there was a failure or setback of some sort. They sometimes went for several days without getting any rabbits: either of them would come back empty-handed from checking the snares and shake their head, looking despondent. On the days when it was calm enough to take the boat out Jamie sometimes would sit there fishing for several hours without catching anything. At these times they had to make do with tinned produce as they were reluctant to use the preserved food that they were storing for winter. Sometimes, if they’d had a few days without catching any fish or rabbits, they had to go out hunting for pheasant with the guns, which was time-consuming and sometimes unsuccessful. Occasionally they got ducks from Egerton Park, though the birds there were becoming scarcer and more wary. They also lost some salads and vegetables in the gardens to pests, and not everything grew as well as they’d hoped. Covering things with fine mesh netting helped in the fight against pests, and they wished they had done it sooner.
It was frustrating for them frequently: they tried to stay optimistic but the failures, losses and setbacks often got them down and they would snap at each other, then apologise and make up. They had been aware that survival and self-sufficiency would be difficult, but the reality was far harder than they had imagined and it was a full-time occupation. Before the plague, if you tried growing food and it didn’t work out you could always go to the supermarket and buy fresh produce; it was very different, though, when what you grew was all you had.
Between May and the middle of June they made a few more visits to Bill and Emma. They would have liked to have gone more often, but had lots of things to do on a regular basis. Bill and Emma were delighted to see them and on each occasion they would stay for lunch and chat for a few hours, always coming away with a small gift of eggs, cheese or milk. Bill loved his new shotgun and it had become his first gun.
On the morning of one of their intended visits, Jamie had a fantastic couple of hours fishing, bringing home four bass, two pouting and sixteen mackerel. He always took out two or three rods with different rigs set up, one usually being for mackerel; he hit a shoal and was pulling them out two or three at a time before the shoal moved on. They took one of the larger bass and four mackerel for their friends, who were very grateful as they didn’t have fish these days. Bill and Emma noticed the change in them as they grew closer, and also that they looked generally happier and more confident due to successes in their endeavours. They also saw when things weren’t going so well due to setbacks and failures, when the couple would appear tired and not their usual selves.
By the middle of June, though, their cupboards and shelves were slowly filling up with preserved food for the coming winter and they realised they were going to need more preserving jars. They visited the retail park and found some in three stores there, but they needed more, and Jamie remembered that there was a kitchen shop in Battle. They were a bit reluctant to go back there after their last encounter, but they reasoned that they had weapons, and if they were quick and careful there shouldn’t be a problem. It was a case of having to go, as they needed as many preserving jars as they could get. They agreed that if they got there and things looked dodgy they’d turn round and come back.
They took two shotguns – a sawn-off and an over/under – plus a hunting rifle, and Jamie had the Smith and Wesson in a homemade holster on his belt, made from an old leather bag he’d found in a charity shop. They had practiced more with the rifles and Jamie had become far more proficient, while Jane had become an excellent shot. They drove to Battle in the Toyota pickup and stopped by the Abbey, waiting there for a couple of minutes and looking up the high street with binoculars. Max could sense some tension in them; he whined quietly and Jamie stroked him. There was a red pickup parked in the road further up the hill, but no sign of anyone around. They drove slowly up the high street, then turned the truck around in the road and parked outside the kitchen shop, facing downhill. Jamie went inside while Jane stood on guard with the rifle in her hands and the shotguns within easy reach in the cab. Just in case anything happened, she put a lead on Max and tied it to the grab-handle above the passenger door as she didn’t want him running off. He could sense something was wrong as his hackles were up and he was whining again; Jane stroked him and he licked her hand.
Jamie had taken two plastic crates in with him and made two trips to collect all the jars that were on the shelves. ‘There’s a door at the back up to the store-room. I’m just going to pop up there and see what else there is.’
‘Okay, but be quick. I don’t like hanging around here any longer than we have to.’ He agreed and went back inside. He’d been gone a few minutes when Jane noticed movement further up the street by the pickup. She picked up the binoculars, focussed them, and saw two figures about a hundred and fifty yards away. They were coming out of a building or a shop carrying boxes. She recognised them as two of the guys they had encountered before, but now one had a shotgun over his shoulder. Bugger!
She thought about going into the shop to warn Jamie, but didn’t want to take her eyes off them. Instead, she moved behind the truck’s open door after reaching in to pick up a cushion they had in there for Max. She held it in the open window frame and rested the rifle barrel on it, watching them through the telescopic sight. The two guys put the boxes down next to the truck in the road and stretched their backs. One of them looked her way, saw their truck and spoke to the other. The one with the shotgun took it off his shoulder and the other reached into the back of the pickup and pulled out a baseball bat, then they started walking towards Jane. Oh shit! Max was up on his back legs looking out of the rear window and growling.
She didn’t want to just shoot them on the spot without challenging them, so she shouted ‘Stop there! I’ve got a rifle aimed at you and if you come any closer I’ll shoot.’
They stopped for a few seconds and spoke together. They were now around a hundred and forty yards away and she made a slight adjustment for range on the scope. Maybe they didn’t believe that a woman with a rifle could hit them from there, or maybe they were just stupid, but they carried on coming. Jane took careful aim and pulled the trigger. The .308 Winchester round was the commercial equivalent of the 7.62mm NATO round and its muzzle velocity was around 2,800 feet per second: the thick end of the baseball bat in the guy’s hand shattered and wood shards exploded into his leg. The shot echoed up the High Street. He staggered but stayed upright and Jane worked the bolt, ejecting the spent casing and loading another round into the breach. The guy with the shotgun started raising it to his shoulder so Jane put another well-aimed round barely a foot past his left ear. He ducked and cringed and Jane shouted ‘…And no, I didn’t miss! That was another warning shot. Now fuck off – again!’ Max was barking furiously in the cab.
At that moment Jamie came bursting out of the door with the Smith and Wesson in his hand. He saw that Jane was alright and she said ‘It’s okay, hon, I think they might’ve had enough.’ The two guys hesitated for a second, so Jamie raised the revolver and fired a shot off to their right. They turned and ran off back up the road, the one with the shotgun helping his injured mate.
‘Time to leave, maybe?’ said Jane. He gave her a wry smile then ran back into the shop and picked up the three boxes he’d been carrying. There was the sound of broken glass from two boxes, but he put them in the truck and dashed back in, coming out with another three. They got in the Toyota and drove off, whooping and hollering, with Max barking excitedly.