The Chronicles of Mayer_An Apocalyptic Survival Story Page 5

  Paul came over to me. ‘We should be cautious.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  We joined Arjuna up front. He stood on tiptoe and was peering at the beam. ‘I have waved my torch. They have waved back. I am hoping it is a friendly gesture. I cannot see who is holding the light.’

  The others came over too and stared ahead. ‘Best stick close,’ Mike said and everyone huddled next to the cows.

  Except for Sarah, who shook her head, grabbed the torch from Arjuna and yelled, ‘Hey! You out there! Show yourself.’ She shouted again and moved towards the brightness without any fear.

  ‘Stop. Sarah, don’t be rash,’ Paul said and halted her advance with a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Or what? Paul,’ she said and faced him. ‘The time for niceties is long gone. I have a gun and a knife. I’m not scared. I’m pissed off and, quite frankly, I’ve had enough.’ She turned around and marched onwards. ‘I said, show yourself. I have a rifle.’ Sarah pulled out the shotgun she’d taken from the camping shop owner and aimed it slightly above the beam of light.

  More lights flickered off and on, then from the gloom stepped two men, three women, and eight children. They were soaked and mud splattered.

  One of the men stepped forward and spoke in a shaky, raspy voice, ‘Please, don’t shoot. We aren’t armed. There are wolves here. We didn’t know what to do. The children and…’ he broke down and a small woman wearing nothing more than a thin dress, ankle-length boots and some plastic sheeting over her clothes took him in her arms. His tears spread throughout the group and both adults and children alike began to weep.

  ‘Oh, great. Now we have a bunch of cry-babies to deal with,’ Sarah said and put down her gun.

  ***

  Despite the raging wind and rain, our ever growing group managed to trudge on and gradually our trek became less arduous. Now we had more hands to carry and drag our belongings and such like.

  The densely packed trees acted as a huge umbrella the further in we went. Our clothes and hair dried. The herd shook off the water and walked more readily than before. Even Oak and Snowbone, pulled the supply trailers without cause to snort and moo.

  At night we made camp and took it in turns to keep watch for wolves or stray savage dogs, whose howls and barks in the moonless night made us shiver. Then again when the wind swooshed through the branches. The sound was chilling, like angry ghosts screaming to the living that it wasn’t fair they were dead.

  My imagination was underused and now that we did nothing more than walk and sleep, it took a more lyrical turn with notions other than how much further we must tramp. I steadied my thoughts by making the occasional recording of our journey. No, no ghosts here only starving people desperately in need of a home and shelter.

  To ease the monotony of our trip, I took to chatting with the folk that were now part of our group. I was not much of a conversationalist and to be frank, avoided dialogue with most people, preferring the company of cows to that of humans. But something inside, a memory of sitting in my room alone without anyone to talk to, compelled my act of friendliness.

  The crying newcomer, Matthew and his wife, Louise, were from a nearby farm that was engulfed in a landslide. The other man and two women found them with their five children lying at the side of the road covered in mud and near to death. One of the women, Grace, and her three children managed to escape a burst river bank.

  ‘John fought it would be a good idea to get a boat when the flading began. Maybe he was right,’ Grace said when we stopped and made camp. I confess I found it difficult at times to understand what she was saying with her South London accent.

  We often told our stories whilst sitting around a fire eating and drinking what little food we had. I noticed that Matthew and Louise took just one tiny bite of the oatcakes we shared before handing the bulk to their children.

  Grace continued, ‘We managed to save sam belongins’. I grabbed a few packets of instant noodles, bottled water, an’ snacks. The warter came into our house so farst, we didn’t know wha hi us. I dunno where the cat and the dog went.’ At this point, her two sons, Jay and James, and daughter, Jenny, no more than eight or nine, began to cry.

  ‘For goodness sake. Why do I have to listen to this slop?’ Sarah stood and paced up and down.

  ‘It was ar dream ‘ome. I told him it was risky buying a property so close to the stream, but he swore the river wasn’t a fret.’ Grace broke down. ‘Sorry, it’s just, the fing was too small. More of a glorified rowin’ boat than anyfink. We capsized. John managed to get the kids to safety. I’m the stronger swimmer but he insisted on going back in the water to get our luggage. The current dragged him away an’…’

  ‘Must we always have a life story?’ Sarah warmed her hands by the campfire. The orange glow made her cheeks flush. ‘Look, we’ve all got sad tales to tell. But, who cares? Who actually cares?’

  ‘I do, actually,’ Paul said. ‘How about you two?’

  The other man and woman looked at each other. ‘We were escaping London. Came across Grace and her kids when we ran out of petrol about six miles down the road. Decided that safety in numbers was best. Janet and I, I’m Richard by the way, are, were, part of a secret genetic project. We were working on, no, Janet, don’t poke me. It doesn’t matter now. No one’s watching over us anymore.’

  He wiped his grey beard. Janet tapped her bony finger on her thigh as he spoke. ‘The powers that were, new something like this was about to happen. We’ve been experimenting for a long time with the mass production of genetically modified foodstuffs and even, animals. Livestock that could feed hundreds yet require little nourishment. For years we worked on the underground project ‘Where there is Life’ Food can quite easily be produced using this method.’

  Janet put her hand in her trouser pocket and pulled out a small bag. She shook it and we heard a soft rattle. ‘Seeds. All kinds of seeds. Richard and I have loads more. The beauty of these little wonders is that they are super easy to grow, are sturdy and disease-free. I hold life, the future in my hand.’ She held up the pouch and grinned.

  Sarah clapped a slow clap. ‘Oh, well done. We,’ she said and pointed to Paul, Mike, Kevin and Richard, ‘we too have been undercover, planning and plotting. Bigger stuff than you two. We have seeds and more.’ She stopped and lowered her voice on seeing Paul’s frown. ‘Don’t worry, boss, I won’t tell.’

  ‘Won’t tell us what?’ Arjuna said. He came towards us carrying some fungus. ‘I found many edible mushrooms, but from the expressions on your faces, my news is nothing compared to Sarah’s. Continue, please.’

  ‘No. Sarah is being dramatic for the sake of it. Yes, okay, we were working on something secret. The only thing I can tell you is that it was something concerning diseases.’

  ‘Why don’t you just tell them?’

  ‘Right, Sarah, I will. There is a virus, a plague, if you will, if it isn’t already here it will come. The floods carry the flies that carry it.’

  I smacked a midge on my neck. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A mutated version of the Zika virus that briefly passed through this once great Isle.’

  Grace held her belly and turned to her identical children. ‘I lost four to it a few years ago. Used a surrogate for James, Jenny, and Jay.’

  ‘Well, this particular strain not only kills foetuses, but adults too.’

  I heard a buzzing and wrapped my scarf around my head and shoulders.

  ***

  It felt just like the flu. The symptoms were similar except for the awful abdominal pain. That’s how we knew it was the virus. I became ill, as did Matthew and Sarah, but with the few antibiotics Janet gave us, we slowly recovered.

  All of this sickness caused many lost days of travelling, but eventually, we managed to get back onto the A1. Unfortunately, our mission to try and find help in Durham failed. The place was under siege, or so it looked when we came near to the city. Tanks and armoured vehicles surrounded the outskirts with huge billboards announcing, ‘The Cit
y of Durham is closed. Quarantine procedures are in place. Do not enter!’

  We did not and took the deserted side roads instead. Climbing upwards past Newcastle upon Tyne to the Scottish borders. Then, only eleven miles from Edinburgh, whilst we sheltered in an abandoned church in Tranent, Jay succumbed to the disease.

  ‘I’ll say something shall I?’ Richard said as we stood by an oblong hole in the ground.

  Janet held Grace in a tight grip. James and Jenny sobbed and hung onto each other as if neither could stand without the others support. Paul, Mike, and Kevin put down their shovels and patted the fresh soil. Louise placed a few branches of red berried holly on top of the grave. Richard coughed and stood tall. ‘Yes, I’ll say something.’

  I walked away when he began to recite soothing words from the Christian Bible. I went to Arjuna and helped him feed the last few bundles of grass to the herd. Running my hand along Buttercup’s back, I felt her spine. So thin. They were all so thin. ‘There has to be grazing nearby. I see hills and grasslands ahead.’

  Arjuna nodded and rested his head on Buttercups side. ‘Their hearts beat strongly. We are close.’

  His fingers trembled as he stroked her skin. The bones in his wrists stuck out. ‘When did you last eat?’

  ‘A few days ago, but please do not make a fuss. I meditate to ease the hunger pains. Besides, since the sickness arrived and the death of the child, my appetite has waned.’

  A wail, high and shrill made the cows look up and moo in sympathy. Grace cried out again and I held back a tear. They would not come before. Even when the boy looked to the heavens with a twisted mouth and sweat-filled brow, I did not weep with the rest.

  All I could think of was that he was at peace and that in Krishna’s kindness he would be reborn when all was right with the world. But now, on hearing his mother’s howls of despair, the tears fell.

  Arjuna touched my arm and I saw his cheeks were as wet as mine. ‘We should continue before the dark falls. The elements will be hard upon us, I fear.’

  ‘Should I help with the herd?’

  ‘No, Mayer, try and raise spirits. Tell them the journey is almost at an end. I know it will not comfort much but it may incite them to continue on.’

  I trudged back to the graveside.

  ‘Arjuna says the night is approaching and it would be best if we moved off. We are close, so close that I can smell the heather and sweet grass that awaits us. There will be fresh greens to eat and in a while, milk, cream and cheese.’ I walked amongst them. ‘We have travelled far under horrible circumstances. Some have lost more than others, but we’ve survived and we will prevail. We must.’ My voice wavered at the end. Still, my attempt at motivation appeared to invigorate. Even Grace stopped sobbing when her two remaining children held her hands.

  ‘Your words are wise, Mayer. But there have been too many words today. Shall we say no more and continue on?’ Richard said and began to pack away the shovels.

  Everyone moved slowly, dragging their feet through the muddy ground. All did what they did every day before we set off. Gathered their belongings, hitched their rucksacks onto their shoulders, pulled the carts and walked. Always we walked.

  A gentle hand Touched my elbow. Paul looked down at me. His beard was long now, black and thick, with wisps of ginger here and there. He blinked away a few raindrops and said, ‘Now comes the hard part.’

  I sighed and bit my lip.

  ‘Together we will prevail.’

  ‘Yes, we shall.’

  ‘So, may I, when we are more settled, you know, I mean, that is to say, could, we, perhaps. Darn my scientist’s brain. I can’t say what I feel, or feel what I want to.’ He opened and closed his eyes and let his hand fall to his side. I took his fingers in mine.

  ‘This is the beginning, not the end. Paul, I would be honoured to be a part of your life as someone special in it.’ He whooped as loud as a howling night wolf and lifted me up. With a twirl, he let me down and kissed me. ‘Perhaps we can build a home just for us?’

  ‘Try to stop me. Let’s get going. Hey! Hey!’ he called to the others. ‘Come on. Best foot forward. We have a place to be.’

  ***

  Adara sat forward. ‘Wow, and then some. I wonder if those seeds were the ma and pa of all the seeds stored in Cityplace? Of all the seeds we now grow? Wow!’ She took off the specs and blinked. Images of her once home raced through her head. The grey concrete buildings, the overly clean rooms that sprayed anti-bacterial mist onto every resident when they entered. Then the rubble and blood that replaced the sanitised, ordered world she left so abruptly when the Agros came and took her bro.

  ‘Nad. ‘Spose things change. I hope this new time will be better for us all. Hope I can adapt to my new life as well as Mayer did. Hope that…Nah, enough Aamlet-like musings. If I aim to glean info to make sense of what’s what, then I’d best do that and cease my inner ponderings.’ Adara clapped her hands twice and the chamber turned from yellow to orange bathing the place in a golden glow. ‘Like dusk on a spring evening when the sun flumphs downwards into the sea.’ She repositioned the glasses, sank back and carried on absorbing Mayer’s vivid account. The words swimming before her eyes to form pictures that played out as if she were watching an actual vid.

  Part Two

  Home

  We thought we had seen an end to our forest trekking, but there came a fierce lightning storm that forced us to find refuge once again amongst the trees. Protection from the huge bolts that zig-zagged across the dark-dreary sky igniting anything that got in the way.

  Arjuna and I hoped to graze the cattle on the abandoned fields that flanked the broken muddy road we travelled on. It was not to be. They stomped and mooed loudly when we turned off our main route. Still, they munched on what they could. The moss and rain-laden bits of grass we came across, abated their empty bellies.

  ‘Seriously? You want us to trudge through damp, dark woods adding more miles to our journey? We’re not that far from Edinburgh and civilisation. No, I won’t do it,’ Sarah said.

  ‘There is no guarantee that city fares any better than Durham. We should stick to the woods for safety. This forest is, I believe, Glen Tress. We are quite near to the great township,’ Arjuna said in the hope Sarah would be appeased. She was not.

  ‘If we’re so close, then we may as well brave the mud and the lightning.’

  ‘No way. I’m happy to tramp for a few days more if it means I’m out of this shitty storm. I don’t want to be burned to a crisp on the spot.’

  Sarah folded her arms and gave Mike a sneer. ‘Oh, don’t be such a baby. The chances of any one of us getting struck by lightning are…’

  Her words were drowned out when the sky burst into light and a boom and crackle louder than the loudest firework display made us instinctively fall to the ground. I smelled burning hair.

  ‘Holy crap! Ow!’

  We stood. The cows nudged each other and Mike held out his blackened forearm. ‘Famous last words, eh? Christ in a nappy, this hurts.’

  ‘Fine, let’s go to the sodding forest.’ Sarah marched off.

  Janet took a tube of painkilling gel from her rucksack and spread it on Mike’s singed flesh. ‘Wow, that’s amazing stuff. I don’t feel a thing. What else have you got, Doc? Don’t hold out on me now.’

  ‘I’ve given you what you need. Don’t wink at me, I’m too old and nasty to be swayed by a slip of a lad like you. It should last for about twenty-four hours, allowing the healing process to begin. Give me your arm, I’ll bandage it up. You should be fine in a day or two.’

  Mike said, ‘Wow’ again and we followed Sarah the few miles into the relative safety of the trees.

  One night when quietness surrounded us and I lay snuggled against Paul in our small tent, a sound awoke me. At first, I thought it was the thunder starting again, but the thumping rumbling noise was not the air echoing off a lightning bolt, but the thudding of many feet in unison. I rolled away from Paul’s sleep-twitching body and sat up. Glancing
at the wet earth I noticed a puddle ripple. The cows called out. Paul stirred and Arjuna knelt beside me.

  ‘I was foraging for mushrooms and saw tiny lights. I climbed the branches of a tree and as the dark sky brightened to herald a new day, I saw them. Soldiers.’

  ‘How many?’ Fully awake, Paul stood. ‘Do they carry weapons?’

  ‘Guns. Some drag carts. They are coming this way.’

  I rubbed my sleep-encrusted eyes. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. Why travel towards the flooding?’

  A single gunshot ricocheted through the forest. All that were in slumber jumped to their feet. Cries of puzzlement were met with a loud honking as if a flock of geese had been disturbed. Then a voice, deep and full of authority boomed out, ‘Stay perfectly still and you will not be harmed.’

  The dawn murkiness was replaced with dazzling lights. I squinted and saw more than a few dozen soldiers in combat gear march slowly towards us. Paul put his arm around my shoulders. I shrugged him off and took Arjuna’s hand. ‘The herd. We must tend to the herd.’

  We ran to the cows and bulls. Too late. Already the soldiers surrounded them. One lifted a gun and pointed it at Daisy. With a cry I had not realised I could make, I threw myself in front of the rifle. Screaming I yelled, ‘Drop your weapon or Krishna Himself will kill you!’

  ‘Move away from the cow, Miss.’

  Arjuna threw himself against the gun-toting soldier and both fell to the soggy floor. My meek friend sat on the would-be cow killer’s back and pressed his hands on the prone man’s head, sending it deeper into the mud. Two of his colleagues plucked him from the prone man and flung him like a broken stick against a tree. They turned to me and raised their rifles.

  I let forth a screech so piercing that they dropped their weapons and covered their ears. The cows mooed and stamped the ground, then as if I had ordered them to do so, stood in a line and marched forward. The bulls snorted and raced to where the bewildered soldiers stood. They quickly backed away.