Outside (Outside Series #1)

  But I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this.

  Luc returns before it gets dark. He gives me a sad smile. ‘We should stay here tonight,’ he says.

  ‘Okay.’

  Those are the only words we speak that night.

  *

  We wake early, but the awkwardness from last night still hangs heavy like morning mist. Our meagre breakfast of dry crackers tastes like dust in my mouth and it feels as though there’s a stone sitting where my heart should be. It’s jagged and heavy and it hurts.

  We pack up in silence and get back on the road. Thankfully, we see no sign of any army vehicles or of yesterday’s balloon. The road is wide and empty. I’m trying to think of something neutral to say to break the silence, all the while wondering if Luc hates me now.

  ‘Can we get back to how we were?’ I say.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘This feels horrible,’ I say. ‘I want us to be friends again.’

  ‘Yeah. Course,’ he says. But it’s the fakest sentence I’ve ever heard him speak and we sink back into silence.

  At Melksham, we pass a large grey-walled compound and decide to stop and show Chambers’ picture to the guards. We pull up outside some thick wooden doors and wait nervously in the AV for someone to come out. A letterbox-sized opening appears at head-height and a face appears behind the grille.

  ‘State your business,’ comes a bored voice.

  Luc opens his window and holds out the picture, explaining why we’re here. The man beckons Luc forward. He gets out of the AV and passes the picture to the guard, along with a couple of silver bits.

  ‘I’ll go and ask,’ the guard says.

  The grille disappears as the opening slides shut. Half-an-hour later, a shout and a hand beckon Luc back to the door. The guard thrusts the picture back out through the bars.

  ‘Sorry, no sightings,’ he says mechanically and the grille closes again.

  Luc and I look at each other and shrug, in growing acceptance of the lack of information. The same story greets us at three further settlements. Some guards are friendly and others are as curt as those at Melksham, but they all have the same response: ‘Sorry, no.’ At least doing this gives us something to focus on other than our feelings toward each other. Makes us feel a little easier in each other’s company.

  We’re heading towards the Chippenham Compound and Luc says we’re well over halfway to my grandparents’ house. I’m happy at the thought of seeing my family, despite the trouble I’m in.

  On the approach to Chippenham, we have to really start paying attention to the route, as we’ve reached a complicated series of junctions and roundabouts and a lot of the roads are completely overgrown. There are no signposts anywhere and Luc has to concentrate hard to remember which route to take.

  ‘This is it, I remember now,’ he says, relief in his voice. ‘There are sometimes raiders up on the bypass.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don’t worry. If we head closer to the town’s compound, we should avoid them. We have to pass under an old railway bridge … Should be down here if I’m remembering right … Yep, there it is. I thought we were lost for a minute.’

  We inch under the bridge and around a blind corner only wide enough for one vehicle at a time. The road is clear as always and we press on towards the compound.

  As we round a bend, we’re faced with an impossibly high wall made from steel, or metal of some kind, with huge rivets all over it. It looks like a massive water tower, but Luc says this is the main Chippenham Compound.

  High, square towers, like castle turrets, protrude periodically from the top of the walls and, against the bright sunshine, I make out the small silhouettes of armed figures on guard. Several gun barrels track our progress as we turn and wind our way past the metal fortress, but no one opens fire.

  Then, up ahead, we see a sight that makes Luc skid to a halt – There are armed men blocking our path.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Eleanor

  *

  At the end of September, Tom came home one night with some horrendous news.

  ‘Johnny’s parents were both killed last week in one of the Southampton bombings.’

  ‘Oh no.’ I sat down suddenly, shocked. ‘No! I can’t believe it. What? Both of them?’ I asked, feeling so bad for Johnny.

  ‘Yeah.’

  We all just looked at each other. Nobody knew what to say anymore. It just seemed like bad news on top of bad news.

  ‘He’s gonna be driving back home tomorrow,’ Tom added.

  ‘D’you think I should ring him?’ I asked my family. ‘I mean, would he even want to hear from me after everything?’

  ‘I think that would be a nice thing to do, darling.’ My mother came over to me and stroked my hair.

  ‘Yeah, but you dumped him,’ David said bluntly. ‘He might not need reminding of that after what’s just happened to his family.’

  ‘That’s a bit harsh, Dave,’ said Tom. ‘Anyway, I don’t think he’d really care about that. He’d just be pleased she cared enough to call.’

  ‘I say call him,’ Oliver shouted over his shoulder from the other room.

  ‘Oh my God, now you’ve all really confused me,’ I said.

  They started arguing amongst themselves, so I left them to it and went upstairs to think about poor Johnny and what he must be going through.

  It turned out I was spared making a decision as he called round about half an hour later to say goodbye in person. David shouted my name up the stairs while I stared vacantly through my bedroom window at a double-glazed sunset. It made me squint and turn away; its beauty an irritation. I still felt and looked awful, but I was past caring about my appearance. David shouted again. I heard impatience in his voice and I heard him say Johnny was here.

  I slouched downstairs in my tatty old tracksuit and toxic slippers, my hair scraped back off my face in an unbecoming, curly greasy ponytail. I felt shaky and nervous.

  Johnny stood in the hallway with rounded shoulders and his hands clasped in front of him. When he looked up at me, I could tell he was a little surprised by my appearance. I was shocked by his. His face was haggard, he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair had grown out into an unfashionable fuzz. He gave me a warm hug though and we went and sat in the lounge, which everyone tactfully vacated, after passing on their condolences.

  ‘I’m so sorry about your parents,’ I said. ‘If there’s anything I can do …’

  ‘Thanks. I’m going home tomorrow morning, finally. I had to wait for my petrol ration. My brother and his wife are meeting me at mum and dad’s.’ He swallowed and took a breath to steady the wobble in his voice. ‘So, I should be okay for a while.’

  ‘That’s good. That you’ll have family there to look after you, I mean.’ I felt like I’d said the wrong thing.

  ‘Yeah.’ There was a long awkward pause and then Johnny surprised me. ‘I heard about what happened to Connor. I’m really sorry. I mean, I know you really liked him. I tried to find out what happened to him for you, but I haven’t got a contact number for Sam, and his parents don’t know when he’ll get leave.’

  ‘You didn’t have to do that.’ I couldn’t believe he’d tried to do such a nice thing for me. I certainly didn’t deserve his help. ‘I just want you to know, I’m really sorry, Johnny. About everything, how it all turned out … you and me. You must think I’m a horrible person, and now your parents …’ It was no good. I tried to stop them, but the tears just streamed down my face. Johnny’s Mum and Dad were dead. Connor was dead. The world was going to hell, and now he’d think I was a weak, self-centred bitch for crying all over him.

  ‘Don’t cry.’ He picked up his jacket and used the lining to dab my tears away.

  ‘Your lovely jacket …’

  ‘It’s not lovely. I don’t even like it. Sam persuaded me to buy it. Thought it made me look cool, but I think I look like a twat in it.’

  I giggled through my tears. ‘No, y
ou don’t.’

  ‘No? Okay, but I made you laugh though.’

  I nodded.

  ‘Look, Ellie, I’ve got to go back to some unpleasant stuff, and I don’t know if, or when I‘ll be back. My uni course has been suspended indefinitely, so ...’ He shrugged. ‘I just wanted to come and say goodbye, and no hard feelings, and I hope everything goes well for you.’ He got up to go.

  ‘Thank you. Same to you. Okay, well take care of yourself.’

  ‘You too.’ We hugged and kissed on the cheek and then he left.

  But that wasn’t the last I would see of Johnny Culpepper.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Riley

  *

  There are four of them that I can see. Big looking guys dressed in khaki with black boots and berets. They’re standing around next to a rusty old caravan and a barrier with a sign. It looks like quite a hastily-put-together operation. Luc and I both peer through the windscreen to try to make out the word on the square sheet of warped plywood.

  ‘Toll,’ we say in unison.

  ‘I suppose that means we have to pay to get through,’ I say, dreading the thought of approaching the barrier.

  ‘Yeah. I’ve been this way before and it wasn’t here then. They look like privateers.’

  Privateers are men who set themselves up as freelance guards. You pay them to escort you through dangerous areas. Some of them are the real thing, but usually it’s just a scam to extort money from scared travellers.

  ‘I don’t want to risk it,’ says Luc. ‘We’ll try our luck at the compound and maybe they’ll let us cut through. I’d rather pay the compound guards than a protection racket.’

  He does a u-turn and we head back to find the compound entrance. An ominous droning sound follows us and I turn to see two privateers on motorcycles coming up behind the AV and flanking us. They smile and motion for us to slow down.

  ‘Shockplates,’ I hiss through my teeth.

  ‘Done it,’ Luc replies, slowing our vehicle to a halt, but leaving the engine running.

  He opens the window a crack and one of the privateers draws up beside him and peers in. Although he’s built like a wrestler, he doesn’t look much older than us.

  ‘Nice day,’ he says.

  ‘Mm,’ agrees Luc.

  ‘Where you headed? We’d be happy to escort you through to the other side of town. Lots of nasty folk about these days. Wouldn’t want you to run into any raiders, or the like.’

  ‘Thanks, but we’ve got business in the compound. We just had a few problems finding the entrance, but I remember the way now.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you can get access to the Compound from our strip. Follow me, I’ll show you how to get in.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Luc replies calmly. ‘As I said, I’ve remembered where the main entrance is. Thanks anyway, for your help.’

  The privateer draws his weapon, but Luc is faster and manages to close the window before he can get a shot.

  I realise we’ve just had a very narrow escape. That boy could have shot Luc in the head if he’d been quicker.

  Luc revs the engine and accelerates, leaving the privateers behind, But the two boys start off in pursuit of us, firing rounds at our vehicle, their cohorts following on behind. Shots ricochet off the AV, accompanied by showers of sparks and the electric crackle of the shock plates.

  As Luc drives, I scan the unbroken metal walls for any type of opening to escape into, but I can see no entrance. Then, above the din, I hear faint shouts and see the bikers gesticulating to each other. The compound watchmen are shooting at the privateers from their towers, using powerful, mounted semi-automatic guns.

  ‘Hallelujah,’ says Luc, as two of the bikers drop their speed. Soon, all four finally cease their pursuit and turn back towards the shabby toll gate.

  Without warning, a concealed metal door in the wall slides open and we nearly drive straight past without noticing. Luc slams on the brakes and reverses, so we’re now directly outside the yawning opening. I peer out of my window to get a better look inside. An elderly man in a royal blue frock coat and matching top hat stands just inside the door and motions wildly for us to enter.

  ‘What should we do?’ I ask Luc. ‘Is it safe in there? That man looks crazy.’

  ‘Yeah, it should be safe. It’s a compound. Safer than out here at the moment anyway.’ Luc backs up the AV, swings around and accelerates through the narrowing entrance, as the door slides shut.

  We find ourselves in a vast deserted field bordered on three sides by high green hedges. I glance back at the wall and can’t even see where the opening was. Luc brings to AV to a stop as I stare through the windscreen at the frowning, whiskered man who has ushered us into the compound. He’s tapping his foot and glancing down at his watch.

  Luc reaches for his revolver and opens his door.

  ‘Come along, come along. Quickly now,’ the man orders, like an impatient headmaster. ‘You know you’ve interrupted me from my judging and they shall all be wondering what’s keeping me.’

  He’s holding a walkie talkie that suddenly demands his attention.

  ‘Sir, do you require close range assistance? Over.’

  ‘No, no, Luis, I told you I’m perfectly capable of welcoming our guests myself. Tell Marcia I shall be along momentarily. Oh, over. Yes. Over.’

  The man stares upwards, and we follow his line of vision to one of the wall’s turrets, where I make out the small figure of a guard holding a walkie talkie. The other guards have their gun sights trained on our AV which makes me remember one of Pa’s fond sayings about frying pans and fires. But for some reason, I don’t feel at all scared. Maybe I’ve used up my quota of fear.

  ‘You’ll have to leave that in your vehicle,’ the man says, pointing to Luc’s gun. ‘Luis gets twitchy if he sees weapons.’

  Luc hesitates and then puts the revolver back.

  As we climb out of the AV, our strange host clips the receiver onto his coat and it dangles there, awkwardly. ‘Jolly useful device.’ He pats the walkie talkie. ‘I always like to personally greet any visitors we get to our little town. I’ve got a nose for riff raff and I can tell you’re not.’

  We walk around the vehicle to join the odd Dickensian man who’s standing next to a small motorised golf cart. He climbs into the driver’s seat and motions to us to do the same. I stretch my arms and roll my neck which feels as though it’s got a thousand kinks in it. I hear a couple of clicks.

  ‘Hello, I’m Lucas Donovan and this is Riley Culpepper. We’re grateful to you for helping us out back there.’

  ‘Not at all,’ the man replies.

  ‘We’re on our way to Gloucestershire and we need to find a route through to avoid the toll outside. If you could point us in the right direction ...’

  ‘Yes, very good, very good,’ the man replies absently. ‘The name’s Aubrey Rowbotham, Mayor of Chippenham. Welcome. But can we get a move on. I’m holding up proceedings. Jump in and we can talk on the way.’

  We don’t seem to have much of a choice and so I sit next to the Mayor, while Luc balances precariously on the back of the little golf cart.

  ‘Will our vehicle be okay here?’ Luc asks.

  ‘Have you locked it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Perfectly safe then.’

  We trundle across the vast field and, as we approach the hedge at the far end, I make out the unmistakable murmur and hum of a large crowd of people.

  ‘Where is everybody?’ I ask. ‘I can hear voices, but I can’t see anyone.’

  ‘It’s a big day today,’ answers the Mayor. ‘You timed it just right for your visit. It’s our Autumn Harvest Fair. Everybody’s making their way over to Lowstone Castle Field. Been there since eight o’clock myself, being Mayor and all. I’m judging the livestock. Some damn fine beasts, let me tell you. Are you familiar with pigs?’

  We both answer in the negative. I’m trying desperately not to giggle. Luc shoots me a warning glance and I bite my lip and look d
own.

  ‘Shame. Learn a lot from pigs, you know. Learn from most animals, but I do have a soft spot for our curly tailed friends.’

  ‘Who are those lads outside your walls?’ Luc asks. ‘Are they privateers? Are they charging a genuine toll, or were they planning on robbing us?’

  ‘So many questions! Blasted nuisance those ruffians. I’ve known them since they were potty trained and they’re still behaving like two year olds. It’s a bloody awful disgrace. Don’t get me started.’

  ‘You know them personally?’ I ask, surprised. ‘Are they from here then?’

  ‘They are. Unfortunately, one of the stupid nitwits is my great nephew believe it or not. We tried locking them up for their numerous misdemeanours, but it didn’t do any good I’m afraid. They kept right on with their wicked ways, egging each other on, you know. I don’t think our gentle way of life suits them very much.

  ‘Some of our less charitable citizens wanted to turn them over to the army, but we erred on the compassionate side and ended up expelling them. Broke their mothers’ hearts. But what could I do? I’ve got a whole town to take care of. Can’t expect everyone to put up with their shenanigans.

  ‘Now they’ve gone and set up their ridiculous Toll outside, they think they’ve got one over on old stick-in-the-mud Aubrey. Think I’m a silly old fool, but I’d like to see them try to do my job, they’d wet their pants at the responsibility. Sorry, sorry, do forgive me. You’re our guests. You don’t want to hear me wittering on about my problems. It’s a joyful occasion so let’s have some fun. Can you stay for the afternoon?’

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Riley

  *

  The Mayor brings the cart to an impressive stop at a jaunty angle by the hedge and we climb out. By now the hubbub of voices is overwhelming and although I can’t yet see anyone it sounds as if we’ve landed in the middle of a huge crowd.

  We follow the Mayor through a wooden gate and he leads us down a steep grassy slope. We find ourselves on a wide avenue of leafy horse chestnuts, thronged with people, all chattering excitedly and heading in the same direction. They nod deferentially to the Mayor as he passes by and he tips his tall hat in acknowledgement, greeting each person by name.

  Aubrey Rowbotham must be well into his seventies, but he walks like a much younger man, purposefully and upright, threading his way through the crowd. We have some difficulty keeping up with him, constantly distracted by all the sights and sounds, but we manage to keep sight of his peacock-blue hat bobbing along.