The trouble is, this isn’t like anything we’ve fought before. These things aren’t like an enemy. They’re not marching in waves, following known strategies, nor are they discouraged by any level of loss. We know so far that other countries have tried machine guns, gunships, fuel air bombs, surface-to-air missiles, flamethrowers, and anti-aircraft guns. There are rumours of some limited effect in Bosnia where a chemical agent was employed, but there’s no accurate reports of just how effective it was, and nothing concerning the effects on civilian populations. Russia appears to have released a biological weapon in several partly evacuated towns in Kazakhstan, and there are large military engagements around Moscow. Again, no accurate reports or feedback are available. While analysis of foreign efforts will hopefully be beneficial if and when the vesps cross the English Channel and hit the UK mainland, one aspect troubles me more than any other: weapons are loud. And, more and more, it seems that the only way to avoid detection by these things is to maintain complete, utter silence.
General Michael Holgate, Friday, 18 November 2016
Glenn drove. Huw and Kelly squeezed into the passenger seat, enjoying the close contact. In the back, Lynne sat against one door with Ally and Jude beside her, and a couple of Glenn’s food bags stowed against the other door. Jude stared straight ahead, letting Ally rest her arm around his shoulder. It wasn’t often he’d allow that. She was his yucky big sister.
Otis was in the boot, curled in the small space they’d made for him. It seemed that he’d resigned himself to having little room.
Huw called the police. It took three attempts to get through, and then he relayed information about the man who’d stolen their car at gunpoint. He gave them the location, time, and a few details of the incident. It was only after he’d hung up that he realised they hadn’t even taken his name.
“They just didn’t sound that interested,” he said. “I might as well have been ordering a burger.”
“More going on,” Glenn said, and then they sat quietly for a while, thinking of what that more might be.
An hour and almost forty miles from the lay-by, they agreed that they couldn’t go far like this. The Land Rover was roomy, but with the food and other supplies Glenn had piled in, along with the guns and bags of clothing, that room was rapidly feeling more cramped. They also had plans to pick up more provisions along the way, either from a motorway service station or an all-night supermarket. So another vehicle was their priority. How to find one was proving more of a problem.
“It’s not as if it’s a normal situation,” Glenn said. “Really, we find a local garage with an owner’s house attached, knock them up.”
“And pay how?” Huw asked. “We’ve got perhaps two grand credit left on our card. And what about registration, tax, insurance?”
Glenn glanced across at him. “Really?”
“That’s how the garage owner will think,” Huw said quietly. “Not me.”
“I’ve got ten grand on my card, at least,” Glenn said.
“I can’t ask you—”
“Mate, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered. “We just saw a nutter almost blow his wife in half over a car. He was aiming at you. He was aiming at Ally, Huw. It’s not a normal situation.”
“He’s right,” Kelly said.
“Yeah. I know.” Huw was trying to forget the sight of the gun aimed directly at Ally’s face, but it was all he could remember. He’d experienced a surge of fury and a haze of hopelessness. He still couldn’t work out how he hadn’t got himself shot.
He liked being squeezed up on the seat with Kelly, and took comfort from her warmth, her closeness. He knew she did too.
Huw unplugged Jude’s iPod from the charger and strained around to look into the back seat. Lynne was sleeping again. Ally caught his eye and they exchanged smiles, and he felt a rush of love for her. She seemed fine. She’d been through so much, and he was constantly amazed at her resilience. Jude was nodding, falling asleep at last.
Huw handed the charging lead back and Ally plugged it into her iPad.
He’d left his phone in the Mazda, as had Kelly. The bastard had also taken their food and clothes, Otis’s food, and Kelly’s handbag. He was only relieved that Lynne had carried her pain medication in a bag in her jacket pocket. And that was something else they would have to confront soon.
There was too much to think about. Already, before the vesps had even hit the British coast, they were screwed.
“Let’s do it sooner rather than later, then,” Huw said. It was almost eleven o’clock. The A roads they travelled on were still busy, but so far they’d been lucky not to hit another accident or traffic jam. They’d seen a few police cars, but they’d simply been parked beside the road. Waiting for something to happen.
They’d decided to aim for the motorway again north of Birmingham. Kelly was trying to check traffic conditions on Glenn’s phone, and while some sites seemed to be updating, she wasn’t actually sure that the information was changing. The motorways should be the fastest route north, but they might also be the easiest way to get trapped in an accident-induced gridlock.
Maybe travelling by night would be easier.
There were so many maybes, and Huw had confidence in none of them.
* * *
They didn’t even know the name of the town. But when they saw a converted petrol station up ahead, now signposted as ‘4WD Salesroom’, it seemed perfect.
Glenn pulled off the main road and parked beneath the wide station’s canopy. Vehicles ranked both sides of the plot, several were parked across the grass verge between road and forecourt, and others were lined around towards the back of the building. The main building was a two-storey redbrick; modern, functional and ugly, with curtained windows upstairs. No lights were on, but it looked like living accommodation.
Kelly and Huw jumped out and closed the door quietly. Jude and Lynne were still asleep, and they wanted to keep it that way if they could.
Vehicles passed them by, none slowing down, lights splashing from car windows and throwing slanted shadows across the forecourt. Glenn had turned his headlights off. Unless anyone looked closely, his would look like just another car for sale.
“Let’s check for a bell, or something,” Kelly said. She took Huw’s hand and they approached the wide glass window fronting onto the forecourt. She’d surprised him holding his hand. He guessed she was as afraid as him.
“No lights on,” he said, shading his face against the window with his free hand. He couldn’t see much. There was no bell by the locked front door.
“Check around the back?” Kelly suggested.
“Yeah.”
They walked around the side of the building. Lights from the road didn’t reach this far and there were no security or safety lights, so they moved slowly to avoid tripping over anything in the blackness. Clouds had obscured the moon now, and the gentle breeze brought occasional hints of rain.
“How much trouble are we in?” Kelly asked softly. Something in her voice made him stop and hug her in the dark, kiss her cheek, hold her close.
“You know as much as me,” he said. “We’re doing our best.”
“But people with guns are doing more.”
“Hey, that was just bad luck. All the cars on the road and he had to choose ours.”
“And what if we run out of petrol, or we can’t get another car and Glenn’s breaks down? What then? Do we use his guns to steal a car?”
“That won’t happen,” he said.
“How do you know?”
“Look, babe. Every problem as it presents itself, okay? I’m out of my depth here, totally. But Glenn’s… you know, he’s adaptable. Handy. He’s strong and tough, and I’m glad he’s with us. He’ll see us through this.”
“You weren’t out of your depth back there,” she whispered. “That bastard threatened our baby. Now come on. Door, bell, whatever. Let’s wake someone up.”
But they couldn’t wake anyone. They found a rear access but no bell, and two minutes spent pummelling on the door brought no reaction from inside. Huw tried the door handle, Kelly hissed at him to stop it. He banged on the door again.
“Maybe they’re scared.”
“I don’t think there’s anyone inside at all,” he said. “Come on. Back to the gang.”
“We’re going?”
“No.” Maybe the darkness made it easier to say what came next. Kelly couldn’t see him, and more importantly he could not see her reaction. “We’ll break in, find the keys. Take a car. Leave our names and address, an IOU.”
“Huw, you can’t be—”
“Of course I’m serious. This is serious! Come on, let’s talk to Glenn.”
Their friend was standing beside the Land Rover shielded from the road. Huw noticed with a shiver that he had one of the shotguns resting against his leg, close so that it was difficult to see. Glenn nodded up at the windows as they approached.
“No sign of anyone there. Been watching the curtain; I reckon they’d have twitched by now if there was anyone inside.”
“We’re taking a car,” Huw said. “Me and Kelly will stay and do it; maybe you should drive down the road a bit, find somewhere to pull off and wait for us.”
Huw wasn’t surprised when Glenn took only a moment to think about it. He nodded, glanced from Huw to Kelly, handed her his phone.
“Your mum’s got hers, I’ve programmed her number. Ring if there’s a problem.”
“Kids all right?” Huw asked.
“Jude’s sleeping. I’ll tell Ally.”
“No. I will.”
* * *
Five minutes after watching Glenn drive away with their family, Huw held a folded tarpaulin against a glazed door, and Kelly hit it with a chunk of wood. The shattering glass seemed incredibly loud, and they both crouched down in the darkness, listening for any reaction. Huw’s heart was jigging. He felt stupidly excited, like a kid doing something wrong. He and his cousin had enjoyed some trouble in their early teens—smashing windows, stealing bikes, scrumping apples; not big and clever but part of what had made him who he was now. He felt that same sense of delicious danger now, and though he knew this was serious, he relished the sensation. It lit his senses and made him feel alive.
This is all for my family, he thought, trying to justify their actions. The guy with the shotgun must have thought the same. But there were lines to cross, and lines to stand behind. Knowing where those lines were made him strong.
He felt around inside and found the handle, flicked the night latch, shoved the door open. Inside it was pitch black. Kelly had already switched on the torch app on Glenn’s phone, and it revealed a messy hallway piled with boxes of files and loose papers. Huw paused and waited for any response. He imagined a dog darting from the shadows and running at them, all slavering jaws and deadly intent.
“Hello?” he whispered. Nothing.
“Hello!” Kelly shouted. “Anyone there?” She made Huw jump, but he listened carefully. There was no sign of occupation.
Kelly led the way, heading along the hallway. She opened another door onto a small room. It looked like a workshop, scattered with bits of electrical equipment, packets of screws and fixings, other oily parts. She swept the light around and paused on a wall calendar showing a naked woman sitting on a sports car’s bonnet, legs akimbo.
“Haven’t seen one of those in a while,” Huw said. He had thought such calendars long consigned to history.
“Not that hairy, anyway,” Kelly said. She giggled, he chuckled, a brief but welcome moment of humour.
She moved through the room and opened another door. Huw followed, staying close, keeping his wits about him. He couldn’t hold back the strange blend of excitement and disbelief that they were actually doing this. Kelly paused in the doorway, and he looked past her at the room beyond.
It was a large office with two desks piled with papers, and a seating area with a low coffee table and espresso machine. Messy but well-used, the room had pleasant pictures on the walls and smelled of fresh paint.
Kelly remained motionless, phone light aimed ahead and down.
“Look, above the desk,” Huw whispered. There was a square metal locker there, and he was pretty sure it was a key safe. He’d seen them in the site cabins he sometimes hired for larger jobs. “Kel?”
“Other wall,” she said. He looked.
Three red lights blinked on and off. There was no sound.
“Alarm?” he asked.
“I think we’ve already triggered it. Remote feed to the local police station, I bet.” She turned and blinded him with the light. “Huw, let’s go. If we’re caught what happens to the kids?”
“We won’t be caught. We already know they’re worried about more important things than this tonight.”
“You’re sure?”
No, he wasn’t sure, not completely. But he pushed past Kelly and reached for the key safe. It was open, and at least thirty sets of keys were hanging there, most of them heavy with key-fob remotes. He grabbed a handful and stuffed them in his pocket.
“Okay.”
Kelly ran back through the workshop and corridor to the smashed door and outside, switching off the torch. Huw followed, tripping on the sill and almost going down. They paused, listening. Out of sight, several cars passed along the road in front of the building, lights splashing the trees skirting the garage’s compound. None of them slowed down.
“We were going to leave—” he began, thinking of names, addresses, phone numbers and apologetic explanations.
“Fuck that!” Kelly said. “We’ve done it, and now—”
“Get out!” someone screamed. It came from behind them and inside the building, location uncertain, and the voice was so loud and screeching that it was androgynous. “Get out get out get out!”
Huw shivered, and a chill ran down his spine. He wasn’t sure he’d ever actually felt that before, thought it was a clichéd saying that meant little. His balls tingled, the back of his neck felt suddenly cool and exposed, and he grabbed Kelly’s hand and ran.
“Get out get out!” The shouting followed them. Huw wondered which room the person had been hiding in, and whether they’d walked right past him or her, crouched beneath a desk or in a cupboard. He tried to shake the idea.
“Get out!”
He took out the keys as they ran and started pressing remote buttons one by one. The first was a hatchback. Its lights flashed, but thankfully there was no accompanying beeping from its alarm. A nice car, but nowhere near big enough for Otis in the back.
The second was a five-year-old Jeep Cherokee.
They both ran at it at the same time, no words necessary. It was perfect. Kelly snatched the keys from his hand and jumped inside, and even as he opened the passenger door, the engine growled into life. She was breathing heavily, but she moved out through the narrow gaps between other vehicles without incident, keeping the headlamps off.
“Fucking hell!” she said. “What the hell was that?”
“Someone scared,” he replied.
“I think I need clean knickers.”
“I think I pissed myself.”
Their laughter was nervous and high, and she flipped on the lights and pulled out onto the road. They were both panting, but Huw also felt buzzed. They’d achieved something together. Over the years, their frantic lives so busy that their drifting apart was as unnoticeable as the movement of a clock’s hour hand, he’d come to realise that they rarely did anything meaningful together. But right then everything between them was fresh and young again. Daring. Dangerous. It was a feeling he’d never expected to love so much.
“Not much fuel,” Kelly said.
“One thing at a time. Let’s get the kids.”
“So I suppose we’re criminals now,” she said.
“Britain’s most wanted.” Huw reached for the radio. “Do you want me to…?”
Kelly sighed, nodded. Maybe she also felt like this was a moment that shouldn’t be broken. But they could not hide from the truth.
He turned on the radio.
“—Black Forest regions of Germany, and there are already unconfirmed reports of incidents in Switzerland and southern France. As noted before, none of these contacts have been officially confirmed, but in a rapidly developing situation it is social media that is becoming the go-to source for up-to-date information. The Prime Minister is expected to make his next hourly statement in around twelve minutes, but in the meantime—”
Huw clicked it off. They sat in silence, heartbeats settling, breathing becoming normal once again. A couple of minutes later they saw Glenn’s Land Rover parked in a cafe’s car park ahead, close to the exit and with its lights on. The cafe was closed, the car park deserted. Kelly parked beside them. Before she lowered the window she looked across at Huw.
“It’s spreading faster,” he said.
“We won’t make it,” she whispered. “Not that far. Not Scotland.”
“We’ll go as far as we can.” He glanced past her at Glenn leaning out and waiting to talk.
Kelly sighed and lowered her window.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Not a problem,” Huw said. Maybe he’d tell his friend later. But he thought it more likely that they’d keep their brief adventure to themselves.
* * *
They drove hard. After queuing for twenty minutes to top up with fuel, and buying a bag full of sweets, crisps and drinks, they hit the M5 motorway and headed north. No one complained that the petrol station had doubled the price of fuel and quadrupled the cost of snacks. Glenn paid with cash, and the station owner’s eyes were alight with profit.
Huw couldn’t understand how the man did not see the truth.
Kelly drove for the next couple of hours, but Huw didn’t sleep a wink. He kept checking on the kids and Lynne in the back seat. Jude seemed warm and content, huddled so deep in blankets they’d borrowed from Glenn that only the tip of his nose and mouth were visible. Ally had the iPad on her lap, but she was doing the nodding dog. He knew that his daughter didn’t like travelling in cars, and whenever he caught her eye he smiled and shared a few words. Her eyes were haunted. When she whispered about what she saw on the Internet, he knew why.
Lynne remained sleeping, leaning against the door, groaning occasionally. He was glad that Ally couldn’t hear those sounds. He wasn’t even sure just how much she knew about her grandmother, but now wasn’t the time to talk about it with Kelly. Lynne had her medicines, though there was no telling how long they would last. It was a problem for later.
Huw tried to imagine the future but it was a hazy, troubled place. He could not quite believe that everything was going to change so much. Try as he might, he could not doomsday them into a broken, bleeding land, and that inability surprised him. It went against his usual pessimistic self. But surely the vesps would stop, die out, be defeated by some simple, effective method? If they’d been cut off from the world for millions of years they would have no immunity to any number of common bugs or viruses. Could they really fly across twenty miles of ocean? Would they even bother? Perhaps his natural pessimism was not broad or deep enough to encompass what was happening, and in such dire times he found himself, ironically, thinking the best.
But stark realities pointed otherwise. Maps displayed on the news, statistics, film clips, interviews. The desperation in the eyes of the Prime Minister. The shocking imagery flooding the net, none of it censored, too much to control. While officials spoke of calm, the truth was chaos.
He tried calling Mags, but her phone was diverted to voicemail. He left a message, thought of trying again later, but decided that she would call him back. He wasn’t even sure what he’d called to say. He also called Nathan, who answered the phone and then dismissed him angrily. He’d been asleep, and he sounded drunk. Huw ended the call feeling cold and indignant.
I tried, he thought. I called, told them where we’re going. What they do is their choice. His troubled calls to his siblings made what he had closer by even more precious. His family was everything to him, and anything beyond was simply added stress. In this changing world, you had to keep close what was most precious.
By midnight they were north of Stoke-on-Trent on the M6 and approaching Manchester. Traffic was heavy, but no more so than on a normal busy day. They saw the results of several accidents, only one of them attended by the emergency services. They passed a van and car burning in a ditch, one man pacing back and forth on the hard shoulder, hands entangled in his hair. A few people had stopped to help. None of them could.
Several times they saw three or four police cars parked together by the side of the motorway. Sometimes lights flashed, more often the officers stood together on the grass verge, smoking, drinking coffee from flasks, watching thousands of people fleeing north. Though the authorities had advised people to remain at home, they could do little to stem the flow of traffic. A single roadblock with no facility to redirect vehicles would soon cause a reaction all along the motorway, and gridlock would follow.
The southbound carriageway was quiet. A few cars and lorries drifted past, and now and then they saw military convoys heading south, trucks and other vehicles camouflaged by night. Huw wondered what those soldiers were thinking. They’d been trained to fight wars, not monsters.
Around 1 a.m., a car drifted across the carriageway several hundred metres ahead of them, clipped the central reservation, flipped into the air, and rolled back across the motorway. Brake lights flared, and two other vehicles collided after the rolling car struck them. It ended up on its roof on the hard shoulder. A few cars stopped, but most moved into the outside lane to pass.
Glenn indicated left to pull over. Kelly flashed her lights at him repeatedly, glancing across at Huw as she did so. “We can’t stop for everyone,” she said softly.
Huw looked over his shoulder. The kids and Lynne were asleep.
“Let’s move on,” he said. He called Glenn on Lynne’s phone, and after a brief exchange his friend agreed.
By the time they crawled past the wreck a few others had stopped to help. Huw tried not to look at the wrecks as they passed, but he couldn’t help it. People were being dragged from the two cars, and they seemed miraculously unhurt. But the car that had rolled was a ruin, and within its shattered interior he saw the ruin of people. They glimmered wet in the collective headlights.
“Checking their phones,” Kelly said.
“Or maybe they fell asleep.”
They drove on in shamed silence.
* * *
The roads became clogged around Manchester and they ground to a halt. They left the motorway via a police lay-by and went off-road again. They crossed a muddy field, skidding and sliding eventually onto a farm lane that led to a B road. Others followed them, quickly becoming mired in the wheel-churned mud.
Both vehicles had built-in satnavs. They programmed them to set a course for Lancaster, avoiding motorways, and most of the time the satnavs agreed with each other. When they didn’t, they followed Glenn’s because it was newer.
By three in the morning they’d passed Manchester, and they stopped at a service station to switch drivers and take a toilet break. This time, no one carjacked them. Glenn stood between the parked vehicles with a shotgun resting over his left arm, while Huw and Kelly took turns taking the children and Lynne into the building to the toilets.
There was a strange atmosphere inside. Huw took Jude, the boy tired and dazed from sleep, and it was an odd experience. Usually such a busy service station would be noisy with chatter, but even though there were plenty of people inside they were all but silent. One coffee stall was open and doing a thriving trade. A food counter had been smashed and the food taken, and the shop at the building’s entrance seemed to have been looted. Magazines, CDs and DVDs lay scattered in front of the forced metal grille, and a trail of trampled chocolate bars led across the lobby area.
The toilets were a mess. No one had cleaned them for some time, and Jude complained that there was no toilet roll. Huw searched his pockets for a few tissues and handed them around the cubicle door, standing in front of it so that no one could enter.
But surreal though the atmosphere was, it was not threatening. Everyone was here for a reason, and that reason was survival. These were the people who were doing something instead of sitting passively at home, waiting for the threat to reach them. Huw had no idea how many people were on the move across Britain, but he didn’t think it was the majority. The roads were still flowing, no busier than on a public holiday.
He exchanged a few nods, and a couple of men made conversation with him. But they were half-hearted exchanges at best. Like him, they all had their own people they wanted to look after. When he caught someone’s eye he saw himself staring back—haunted, tired, confused and scared about what was to come. A sense of urgency made the silence loaded.
Back at the cars they stood for a while listening to the heavy sound of military helicopters. Lights flashed to the east, accompanied by the whukka-whukka of rotors. Chinooks.
They started out again. Huw took the lead. He tried to find music on the radio but there was none. So he switched it off, because he couldn’t drive while listening to so much bad news. Kelly dozed beside him, curled up in the passenger seat. He felt a fierce, uncompromising love for her, a depth of emotion he hadn’t felt for some time. They were looking after their family together, because no one else seemed able.
Ally was awake. Huw heard her tapping her iPad intermittently, and several times she tapped him on the shoulder to relay some more information.
“Some of them are dying in Switzerland. They don’t like cold. People are fleeing to the Alps.”
“There’s been an explosion in Russia.”
“Someone’s transmitting from inside an underground shopping centre in Milan. They’ve cut themselves off, the vesps are passing them by.”
“They’ve reached the Channel…”
That was at five in the morning. This late in the year it was still dark, and as they approached the junction that would take them back onto the M6 south of Lancaster, Huw indicated and pulled off into a highways maintenance area. There should have been a barrier preventing access, but it had been forced open. Giant yellow machines sat in shadows like sleeping dinosaurs. They parked amongst piles of gravel, stacked cones, and safety barriers.
Huw wound down his window. Glenn parked beside him and lowered his window.
“You heard?” Glenn asked.
“The Channel. We won’t make it much further.”
“We should try to make it to the Lakes,” Glenn said. “Wide open country, plenty of places to get lost in there.”
“And everyone else will be thinking the same,” Kelly said. “Think of anything better?” Glenn snapped. He closed his eyes, shook his head. “Sorry. Sorry.”
“It’s a good idea,” Huw said. “How far, thirty miles?”
“Give or take,” Glenn said.
“So let’s go!” Kelly said.
“Mummy, I want to go home,” Jude said from the back seat. Huw heard Lynne trying to comfort him, swapping seats with Ally so that she sat in the middle.
“What if we get split up?” Lynne asked from the back seat.
Won’t matter, Huw thought. Once they’re all around us, what the fuck does anything matter? His stomach rolled. He’d never felt so scared, not even after the accident and seeing Ally in hospital. Then there had still been some level of control, a system of procedures and protocols to grasp onto—hospital, rehabilitation, physiotherapy, operations. Now, there was only an unknown future ushering in dreadful danger.
“We’ve got the phones,” Kelly said.
Huw nodded. “But make sure they’re on silent.” He powered up his window and circled the compound, leaving the same way they’d entered.
“They’re attacking ferries in the Channel,” Ally said. She’d been sitting in the back, unaware of the conversation and probably feeling terribly cut off. She was their source of information. “They were evacuating people from France. Now they’re stuck on the ships, locked in their cabins while the vesps…” She drifted off, leaving the rest to the imagination.
Huw tried not to imagine too hard.