Surviving The Evacuation: Harvest - Part 5
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Part 5

"Well, its fifty-fifty whether Im right or not, but thanks to that Jumbo Jet, no planes could take off, right? Perhaps the reason they stayed at the airport was that there were a lot of pilots amongst them, and until that runway was wrecked, they intended to fly out of there. In which case, theyd have had a stash of fuel."

"Thats just a guess," Nilda said. "A nice theory that neatly fits some of the facts."

"Tuck says," Jay began, "that the planes we went into could be flown. Wait. No. Would have been able to fly. Ah, yeah. Before the birds got in, she means."

Nilda glanced up. That great green flock was now looping around the airport. Occasionally one would dart down, flying towards the broken planes, then shoot up again before landing.

"What did those birds eat?" she asked. "Because maybe we can eat it too."

"We can eat birds," Jay said. "Even parrots, right?"

"Parakeets," Chester said. "Some people saw them as a bit of a pest. I liked them myself. Made a welcome change from pigeons. I havent seen that many birds in a while, not since earlier in the year, and then they always seemed to be migrating. They might have found a perch in a tree or on a roof for a night, but a day or two later, theyd all be gone. Its a good sign, or Im going to take it as that. What about you two, did you see many when you were on your way down from Penrith?"

"A few in the countryside. None in the towns," Jay said. "We did see a fox once. That was near Cambridge."

"I saw a few birds on the Isle of Scaragh," Nilda said. "Not many, and none settled on the island. Maybe the people who stayed did have food, and thats what the birds were eating. Maybe they used the fuel to power a generator, and it all ran out. We dont know, and now we have no way of finding out. At least we have the life rafts." She turned away from the airport and looked down at the stack of rafts tied to the deck. Some were orange marked with red, others yellow marked orange, a few an orangey-yellow with red stripes.

"And did you get the Geiger counters?" Jay asked.

Nilda stared at him blankly. Shed been so distracted that shed completely forgotten about the radiation. She ran over to her pack and pulled one out. It worked. Or she thought it did.

"Is this right?" she asked, handing it to Tuck.

The soldier took it, looked at the counter, then quizzically up at the sky. Then she nodded.

"What?" Jay and Chester asked, almost as one.

"Normal," Nilda said. "The reading is normal. Well, its a bit higher than before, but not by much. You see on the lid, here, theres a chart. It gives the background level for London, for tracers in medical procedures, and all the way up to lethal."

"Thats... I dont know what that means," Jay said.

"It means were safe," Nilda said.

"So whats wrong?" Jay asked, as if sensing her doubt.

"It should be much higher," she said. "Those people on Anglesey said that it had been spread by the winds. People had gone to Cornwall and got a lethal dose."

"Wasnt it Birmingham?" Chester asked. "And they said that those people had to turn back. But both are a long way from London. Maybe the winds been blowing out to sea. On the telly, whenever they showed the weather maps, the fronts always-"

"For seven months?" Nilda cut in. "And if it was blowing west in Birmingham, southwest in Cornwall, how was it always blowing east here in London?"

"Yes, fair question," Chester said. "But the reading is more or less normal, thats all that matters. Exactly why weve not died from radiation poisoning isnt as important as the fact we havent."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry," Nilda said. "Youre right. It is good news. It was the sight of those children, I suppose. And that cell. I cant get that image out of my mind."

"What cell?" Jay asked.

Nilda briefly summarised what theyd seen in the holding cells at the airport.

"You see," she finished. "I can understand why you might lock up someone whod been bitten. Thats safer for everyone. But that window was small, and when we first went down the corridor it was transparent. When we were heading back, it was so covered in that brownish... well, I suppose you can call it blood, but it was so coated in the stuff I couldnt see the creature at all."

"Youre saying that we were the first people to go down there since the person died and the zombie came back," Chester said.

"Exactly," Nilda said. "They were locked in there and left to die."

"Maybe not," Jay said. "Maybe they planned to go back, but they got infected, too."

"Maybe, but what about the other cell, and the person in there who hadnt turned?" Nilda asked. "What was it you said about Stewart? Some people shot him and killed the people he was with, all for food. Whos to say that those people, or people like them, arent out there still?"

"You look for the bad in everyone," Jay said. "Since were doing all we can to help others, we should a.s.sume others will help us."

"The Golden Rules a nice idea, kid," Chester said. "But when youre older, youll find out the real world doesnt work that way."

"Maybe because its full of cynics like you," Jay said.

"Yeah, maybe I am a cynic. It doesnt change the fact that someone was locked in that cell. How much do you know about the people at the Tower? How many of them tried to rescue you from the museum? Ask yourself that, and then tell me Im a cynic." He turned the engine off. "I think we can let the tide pull us for a bit."

"Well, we got the Geiger counters," Jay said. "And the rafts will help. Oh, and we found these." He pulled a can of lemonade from his bag and offered it to his mother. "So whats next?"

"Kent," she said. "That was the point of this, wasnt it? Find a Geiger counter, and if Kent isnt radioactive, find a coastal farm, and gather the food before it rots. I think weve enough fuel to make three trips along the coast. Maybe four. I suppose we could fill up the rafts and tow them behind the boat. Wed get more that way, and then... I dont know. Were all running on empty and so on edge the only thing keeping us from falling off is that were heading forward at full speed. It cant go on. We have to stop before we collapse. We all need time to heal. Time to grieve. Time to remember what it means to be human. We cant do that when each dawn brings new worries, and each night reawakens old fears."

"Or we just keep going," Chester said. "Never stop until were forced to, and hope that when we do, we realise weve found safety. You got anything stronger than lemonade in that bag of yours?"

"Theres c.o.ke," Jay said.

"Yeah, figures."

"But the reading is normal?" Finnegan asked.

"Thats right. Or a little higher than normal," Nilda said, repeating what shed told everyone when she and the others had returned to the Tower. Once the initial good news had been pa.s.sed on, Hana had said that further details could be given at the meeting after the evenings meal. As Nilda went off to wash, change, and throw another set of ruined clothes on the pile to be incinerated, shed tried to think of what additional details there were to give. By the time shed walked into the two-storey red brick building that had once been the Towers restaurant, shed thought of nothing. Nor had she found any inspiration in the few mouthfuls of over seasoned stew that shed managed to swallow before Finnegan had asked his question. She stared down at the unidentifiable contents of her bowl. She wasnt sure she would have finished the meal, but shed have liked to have had the chance.

"But its safe, right?" Finnegan continued. "I mean, thats all that matters, isnt it?"

"Please. Everyone," Hana said, standing up. "If were to start the meeting now, please remember the rules. You must wait to be recognised before speaking." The room went mostly quiet. "Um. Right. Well. Yes. Well, the radiation. The reading is above normal. But..." She glanced down at a stack of ledgers shed brought with her into the dining hall, and which shed spread out over the table, her own meal forgotten and congealing to one side. "Yes, its safe. That is the important part, though in this context 'safe is hard to define. We have to rely on the figures given in a couple of textbooks, and they all seem to base their conclusions on the same studies of Chern.o.byl. The professor would have known, of course." A wave of sorrow fluttered across her face. "But perhaps the details arent important. We, here, do not have to worry about radiation. There are, however, plenty of things we do need to worry about. Water, food, and heat are at the top of the list, along, of course, with safety." She closed the ledger and opened the next. "Things arent as good as any of us would like. We lost a lot of supplies with those vehicles we left at the British Museum. But it isnt all bad news. The pigs and the chickens..."

Hana began an overlong explanation of feed stores, energy requirements, how much water the animals required, and how much human energy and time was needed to prepare it. Nilda looked over at McInery. The woman was sitting hands folded, listening intently. She was one of the few. Most had returned to their meals or sat with eyes glazed, not really taking in the details of what the young vet was saying, but seemingly comforted by the scientific summary.

"Which means," Hana finished, closing the ledger, "that unless circ.u.mstances change, we will need to slaughter one pig in five days time, and another a week after that. If we can stockpile water, and not have to use all our electricity on purification and sterilisation, then I think we could keep a freezer running for a total of eight days. But this would not be ideal. I know that pork chops are an appealing prospect, but what we eat now, we cant eat this winter." There were a few nods, a few grumbles, but no real dissent.

They would follow the young vet, Nilda thought, and do what she said because theyd been fed and told that there would be food tomorrow.

"Winter is the real problem," Hana continued, "and autumn has yet to truly begin. Stewart? Do you have the list?"

Stewart stood, and waved a clipboard.

"It comes to about two weeks of stores?" Hana asked.

"Thats it," Stewart said. "About a week of fresh in the kitchens, then were on to the stores. Two weeks. Everything on here. I added it up when we brought it in from Kirkman House."

"So," Hana said, "including the livestock and their feed, well be starving before December."

That news was meant with stony silence.

"What about Anglesey?" a voice called. Nilda turned to see whod spoken. It was that man that McInery had gone to help earlier that day. Graham, wasnt it?

"Theyll have food wont they?" Graham continued. "And theyve a power station, so isnt all this planning a bit pointless?"

"Graham, please. We will be coming to that, but we have rules. You can speak when Ive finished," Hana said. Nilda was surprised to see that, after a brief pause, the man did actually retake his seat. "But, yes. Anglesey. It will take Chester a day to drive to Wales and perhaps two more to get to the island, is that right?"

"At best," Chester said.

"At best, yes. At worst, it... um..." she stammered to a halt.

"At worst, Ill die along the way," Chester said with a disarming smile. "But it could take longer than three weeks. If the boat comes, it might bring food, but were a.s.suming that they still have food to spare, of course, and they may not. And when we left they had a real problem with fuel. They might only send a sailing boat with a sat-phone."

"Thank you," Hana said. "And as such we must plan as if they dont exist. And that means we must go out and find more food, more firewood-"

"Theres plenty of that in the old church," McInery interrupted. "A pew burns as well as a shelf."

"You know my feelings on that, Mrs McInery." And Nilda noted that Hana didnt berate her for interrupting. "But perhaps in an emergency we must forego those considerations. As I was saying, we need more clothes, more candles, more wind-up torches, and anything else that will allow us to save our firewood for boiling water. With those rafts, we should start thinking about trips across the river to south London and places that..."

As Hana spoke, Nilda got a better idea of her leadership style, or rather her lack thereof. She clearly had no interest in power and had fallen into the role with the deaths back in Kirkman House. She acted like a schoolteacher and treated everyone as if they were children. Perhaps because of the horrors surrounding them, people welcomed that regression back to those halcyon days where the greatest danger lay in the playground. As long as Hana was spelling out what had to be done, by whom, and by when, few people took the initiative. Therein lay the danger. Nilda had no intention of formally challenging Hana for leadership. As long as everything was being done that could be done, it didnt matter whom people considered the groups highest authority. She threw a glance over at McInery. It almost didnt matter.

"And that brings us to Kent," Hana finished. "If there is fruit still on those trees and-"

"And why should there be?" it was Graham, again.

"Because," Chester snapped before Hana had a chance to remonstrate, "it was called the Garden of England for a reason. Sorry," he added. "I forgot I was meant to wait for my turn."

"Yes. Um, Well, Kent." Hana looked down again. "Ive made a list of farms I know of, and which are close to the coast. We have enough diesel for the boat to make about three hundred miles whilst leaving enough for a car to get to Wales, and a small reserve in case we need to abandon this castle. I propose we send a small group down to Kent to find some suitable farms. Once we know how much food is there, we can devise a safe way to bring it back. Obviously, this should happen immediately."

"Well need better weapons than we have here if we want everyone who leaves to come back," McInery said. "Swords and spears are a recipe for death. Ill take one of those rafts upriver to Westminster. When the government was finally overrun, the few who escaped wouldnt have been able to take all their weapons and munitions with them. With those, we could collect all the food we need and do it safely."

Nilda looked over at Tuck. Her and Jays hands were moving in an intense back and forth conversation.

"Yes, um..." Hana stammered, looking down at her ledgers again as if one of those might find a clue as to how she should respond.

"Tuckll go too," Jay said, loudly. "She says youll need someone with you who knows about guns."

"And if shes going upriver," Chester said, speaking before McInery could reply, "and since Nildas not going to be doing any running for a couple of days, Ill go down to Kent."

"What about Anglesey?" Graham asked.

"You heard what Hana said," Chester answered. "Without that food youll starve before I get back. Im more used to travelling around the wasteland than most, and Anglesey can wait until this is done. Of course, you can always go to Wales yourself. Just head north for a hundred miles, then take a left. When you hit the sea, follow the coast until you see the electric lights."

"So, we have a plan," Hana said in an attempt to regain control of the meeting.

"Looks like it," Chester said. "And its a clear night, not much point waiting for dawn. So, who wants an autumn getaway to the seaside?"

"Lets go," Nilda said to Jay as Chester handed out pieces of paper for everyone to write their names on.

"What? Where?" Jay asked. "We havent put our names in."

"And were not going to. Chesters right. Im not going to be running anywhere for a day or two."

"But I can," Jay said.

"And youre coming with me to Kent. Well pilot the boat, but we wont go ash.o.r.e."

"Why not?" Jay asked.

"Because someone has to stay on board."

"Then you can do that," Jay said. "You dont need me to stay as well. Look, Mum, I fought my way down from c.u.mbria. I know how to handle myself, and Im better at it than most of the people here. Ask them. Theyll tell you."

"Why do the young always think its about themselves?" Nilda asked of the world at large. "Jay, less than a month ago I was on an island out in the middle of the Atlantic wearing nothing more than rags. I had to watch as every last one of the people that saved me from a watery grave died from radiation poisoning. And then I had to bury them with my bare hands. The closest Ive come to a days rest since was on the boat from Scotland down to Anglesey. Im tired. Im sore. I thought my son was dead, and now I find hes alive. Forgive me if, after all Ive been through, I want to spend a couple of hours with him in relative safety."

"Right. Yeah. Sorry," Jay mumbled.

Nilda immediately regretted her words. They were true, and it was important that Jay understood, but the tone was half a year out of date. As Chester gathered the sc.r.a.ps of paper and placed them in an upturned Roundheads helmet, a dozen lies that would have better salved Jays young ego came to her. But it was too late.

Reece, Greta, and Finnegan had drawn the short straw and were going to Kent with Chester. As soon as their names had been drawn out, Chester hurried them to get ready, and then hustled them out to the boat with hours to go before the tide changed. Nilda followed them, finding a perch by the lifeboats controls. The three people looked reliable enough, and Tuck had given her stamp of approval on the volunteers. So why did she feel such a foreboding weight of anxious finality when she looked from one face to the next?

Finnegan pulled out a long bayonet, then took off his belt and adjusted the scabbard. Chester had made them swap the long spears that had become most of the survivors weapon of choice for the less imposing but far more practical hand-axes. The bayonets had been Tucks suggestion. They were early twentieth-century models from the small Fusiliers museum that took up one corner of the inner Towers grounds. Shed also had to tell them to get rid of the armour that most had taken. Plate and chain mail might stop a bite, but the best protection against the undead was speed.

Finding a farm shouldnt be difficult. They just had to follow the coast with an eye on the sh.o.r.e and another on the map. As Chester had said, it should almost be like a holiday, and then theyd return to the Tower with the tide. Perhaps theyd have time to gather some food, perhaps even to fill the boat. Probably not, but either way they should be back at the castle before the next evening meal.

No, that wouldnt be difficult. It was the next part that would be deadly hard. They would have to take as many people as they could down to the farm and fill every bag and container they had. There was no way of doing that safely. If they filled the rafts and towed those behind the boat, they would be able to bring back more. And they would need to. In a few weeks the true autumn storms would set in. At about the same time, the diesel would run out, and any fruit left on the trees would have fallen to add its bulk to the leaf matter fertilizing the orchards. Then there would be no more food until theyd grown it. And that was where the true danger lay.

If they found nothing in Kent, or if they didnt find enough, or if there was no food to spare in Wales, or if the boat they sent was lost at sea, or if one of a hundred other possible calamities befell them, they would face starvation before winter began and would all certainly be dead long before the spring.

Part 2: The Ruins of Whitehall 18th September Tuck slowly lowered the packs and improvised oars down the side of the Tower. She and McInery were going to Westminster alone. Perhaps out of guilt that theyd escaped the obviously more dangerous trip to Kent, people had volunteered to go with them. Tuck had turned down their offers of help. It was Nildas fault. Or it was Chesters. Or maybe it was no ones.

Shed never entirely trusted McInery. During their days trapped in the British Museum shed realised there was something inherently dangerous about her. Those suspicions, confirmed by Chester and his revelations about the womans past, had now grown to encompa.s.s nearly everyone in the Tower. Finnegan, for example, had seemed to be a close confidant of the woman back in Kirkman House. She was equally wary of Greta and Reece. That was why, when Chester had asked who would be most reliable on the trip to Kent, shed given him those three names.

The rope went suddenly slack. Shed not noticed that the bundle had hit the ground. She grabbed the other pack, clipped it onto another rope, and began lowering it. She felt slightly guilty about helping Chester arrange that lottery. It wasnt that- Tucks thoughts were interrupted by a tap at her shoulder. It was McInery.

"I didnt think we were due to leave for an hour," McInery said.

Grateful that her hands were full, Tuck finished lowering the bag to the ground, perhaps a little more slowly than she needed.

"I woke early," she signed.

"Yes. So did I," McInery replied. "You dont need to come. I am more than capable of completing this ch.o.r.e on my own."

"Id rather do this than spend the morning watching water boil," Tuck replied, and that was partly true. Standing by the great stainless steel urns they used to sterilise the water was the very definition of watching ones life tick away. "Besides," she added, "its Jays drone. He made me promise no one else would use it whilst he was away. Sorry."

McInery shrugged and seemed indifferent. Tuck couldnt tell if that was genuine or a front. That was the problem; she now saw everything McInery said and did as an act.