‘What happened?’ Jamie asked, before he could stop himself. As he spoke, he felt the disapproval of the other disciples.
The Voice turned to him, his eyes slits. Jamie immediately wished he hadn’t spoken. But then the boy’s face lost its hard edge and he spoke:
‘My sister had agreed to deliver the enemy to me today. But she never came. In her place, my scouts spotted a poorly concealed vehicle meant to ambush us.’
‘Do you think maybe your sister’s been captured?’ Jamie said. ‘Maybe there was nothing she could do about it.’
Matthew’s face turned to fury. ‘Are you questioning me?’
‘No, no, Sir. Of course I would never . . .’
‘It makes no difference now,’ Matthew replied. ‘We will have to proceed to our final destination.’
‘Tell us what you need us to do and we’ll do it,’ Jamie said.
‘You will travel with me now, Jacob,’ The Voice said to Jamie. ‘And we will lead our army to the perimeter and we will crush them.’
Jamie was taken aback. He was to travel with The Voice of the Father. To lead the army. But something else was troubling him:
‘Which perimeter are we going to?’ he asked.
‘Talbot Woods. No more talk. We leave now.’
Jamie went cold. He was to return to the Talbot Woods Perimeter. The place of his nightmares. A place he’d hoped never to see again. But would it really be so terrible? His life had moved on. His nightmares had receded and he had been granted forgiveness and a chance at a new beginning. Maybe he needed to return to that place to finish this once and for all. If the people of the perimeter were evil, maybe killing the girl hadn’t been such a tragic accident after all. Maybe it had been God’s will.
Gathering up the hem of his robes, Jamie followed Matthew to the truck. As he passed by, he saw the huddled shapes of the prisoners still in the back of the vehicle, their scared hollow eyes staring back at him. Jamie waited by the passenger door while one of his brothers brought him his weapons from the AV.
Jamie had instantly acquired a new status among his brothers. He was now openly favoured by The Voice of The Father. His new life was taking shape. All he had to do was prove himself on the battlefield and he would be assured a life of power and fulfillment. His past was gone. He had to look to his future now.
Up in the cab, it was just him, Matthew and the driver. The engine purred to life and they rumbled down the dark track in convoy once more. Following behind, their massive army on horseback and on foot. If only the old Jamie could see him now, he would be laughing his ass off at the magnitude of the situation. Scrub that. The old cynical Jamie wouldn’t even believe it. Jamie didn’t like to think of the fool he used to be. He was ashamed of his years scrabbling around in the wilderness, doing nothing but surviving. Serving no earthly purpose.
Jamie didn’t know how long they’d been driving for, when a noise in the distance made him strain his ears.
‘Stop the truck,’ he cried.
Matthew looked at him, first annoyed, then concerned. He turned to the driver. ‘Stop,’ he said. The driver slowed to a halt.
‘Turn off the engine,’ Jamie hissed. This time the driver complied without waiting for The Voice of the Father to repeat it. The other vehicles also whined to a halt behind.
‘What is it?’ The Voice asked Jamie.
Jamie held up his hand for quiet. There it was again – the distinct rataratarat of machine gun fire.
‘Let me go and see,’ Jamie said. Without waiting for a reply, he slid out of the cab, reached for his AK47 and pulled up his hood. Moving quickly, he melted into the trees, running back the way they had driven. Running toward the sound of bullets. But he felt no fear. Only power and adrenalin. The knowledge that he was trained to do this. He was good at this. He ran along the path, past their convoy of vehicles until he reached the foot soldiers.
As soon as they noted the trim of his robe, the warriors snapped to attention.
‘What’s going on?’ Jamie asked.
‘Our warriors are under attack at the rear,’ the man replied, his voice deep and calm.
‘And?’
‘There’s a convoy of trucks up on the main route. They opened fire on us two minutes ago. They’ve got the high ground. I’ve told most of our soldiers to fall back into the woods. We’ll leave some snipers behind to eliminate them.’
‘Who are they? The attackers?’ Jamie snapped.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Take a guess.’
‘The enemy. A scouting party. A supply convoy. Raiders. Could be anyone.’
‘How many trucks?’
‘Four or five, but it’s hard to tell.’
‘Carry on falling back,’ Jamie said. ‘And leave the snipers returning fire. I’ll take some AVs up on the main route and cut them off. Inform our snipers we’ll be coming. Tell them not to fire on us.’
The warrior nodded and Jamie powered back to the convoy as fast as he could. When he returned, the disciples were out of their vehicles, gathered around FJ once more. Jamie had no qualms about speaking up this time.
‘Our foot soldiers are under attack,’ he said. ‘I need to take six heavily armoured vehicles up onto the main route to outflank them.’
‘Whatever you need,’ Matthew said.
‘Please,’ Jamie said. ‘You stay here. We’ll take care of this.’
Matthew paused and then nodded.
Jamie ran down the line of vehicles and picked out six: three trucks loaded with soldiers and weapons, a couple of fast AVs and a heavy duty 4x4. He got into the driving seat of one of the AVs, accompanied by three other disciples and pulled around the other static vehicles. The six vehicles travelled down the track until Jamie spotted a path leading back up to the main road. Turning sharp right he nosed the AV up the bank and onto the track. His disciples already had hold of their weapons.
Revving the engine in first gear, Jamie climbed the track and finally bumped up onto the dual carriageway. He recognised this route. It was the Wessex Way which led down into Bournemouth. His blood pumped and he felt a little light-headed, but he also felt exhilarated and in control. He drove on a few yards and waited for the others, then they all headed back along the main road toward the enemy. The road was relatively smooth here and they flew along.
After only a minute’s driving, Jamie saw the dull silhouettes of the enemy vehicles up ahead. Heard the sound of bullets pinging off metal. He indicated, braked and turned, so his AV was now parked across the route. The rest of his convoy followed suit, so they had now effectively blocked the road. Jamie cracked the window, aimed his machine gun into the night and fired. His brothers did the same.
After thirty seconds or so, Jamie stopped shooting and signalled to others to ceasefire. The sound of gunfire stopped altogether, and now the enemy’s engines roared to life. Jamie waited, straining his eyes to see, wondering if the hostile vehicles were headed straight for them. Should they move? He fired his weapon once more. But now the engine noise receded until it was just a faint growl in the distance. They must have turned tail or pulled off the main route. Either way, it looked like they had gone.
Jamie pointed the AV back up the Wessex Way toward the enemy’s last seen position. He drove more slowly this time, his brothers aiming their weapons into the darkness, sweeping their surroundings for any movement.
Nothing. No one.
He felt the eyes of his warrior brothers upon them. Thousands hidden down on the forest road under cover of darkness.
And then, up ahead he saw a lone truck in the middle of the road. Stationary with no lights. Jamie braked. The other vehicles drove on so that they formed a semi-circle around the vehicle, blocking off any escape route. Jamie realised the others were waiting for his orders, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He might have the ear of The Voice of the Father, but he wasn’t experienced in these situations. He’d have to make a judgement call. The truck’s cab appeared empty, but looks could be deceiving.
With more confidence than he felt, Jamie opened the AV door and slid out, dropping into a crouch and pointing his Kalashnikov at the truck. He braced himself to be fired upon. Several of the other disciples had followed his lead and exited their vehicles, approaching the truck with caution. Jamie’s adrenalin was surging and strangely, he found himself almost enjoying the situation, revelling in the fear.
He had almost reached the truck now and sidled up to the passenger side of the cab. He pulled at the cold metal handle and the door clicked open. Then he flattened himself against the side of the vehicle and kicked hard at the door. It flew open and he stepped forward, firing into the interior without checking to see if anyone was inside or not. His heart battered his ribcage and he stopped firing to see what he’d just done. Nothing. There was no one inside. Jamie was half-disappointed, half-relieved.
While he’d been checking out the cab, two of his brothers had been around to the back. Jamie joined them.
‘Empty,’ one of them said.
Jamie peered in. Nothing inside. ‘Maybe it ran out of fuel. Looks like they’ve fled,’ he said.
‘Here!’ a voice called out.
Jamie turned and followed the sound to the front of the abandoned truck. One of the disciples had noticed a piece of rope tied to the front of the vehicle. It had been cut.
‘They were towing it?’ Jamie asked.
‘Yes,’ the disciple replied. ‘Should we give chase? The other vehicles . . .’
‘No point,’ Jamie said. ‘We’re only a few miles from the perimeter now. Come on, let’s get back to the others.’
Twenty minutes later, Jamie and The Voice of the Father led the army down along the main route into Bournemouth. The vehicles drove in rows, four abreast, spread out across all four lanes. The cavalry came behind and lastly came the foot soldiers, their robes merging with the cold darkness. Unshed snow hung heavy in the air and the breath of four thousand soldiers made its own clouds above them.
The vehicles moved at a slow cruising speed, a little way ahead of the main army. Jamie had returned to Matthew’s vehicle, leaving the driving to one of the others. No one spoke. They would soon reach their destination and all thoughts were of what might lie ahead. As they reached the end of the road, flakes of snow began to fall. At first, light and whirling, but too soon they grew heavy and thick. This was no flurry, it was a blizzard. The raw landscape transforming from a black wilderness to a whiteout.
The going was slow, but they inched along. At least they would be able to sneak up unseen, the snow shielding their approach. Jamie wondered how the main army behind was doing. He prayed the snow wouldn’t settle too deep or they’d be done for.
His prayers were answered. The snowfall eased after about half an hour, just before dawn. The land was white, but the snow wasn’t deep enough to hamper their progress.
‘Nearly there,’ Jamie murmured.
‘Do you remember your task?’ Matthew asked.
Jamie nodded. How could he forget. He was to kill the one who had taken their Holy Father.
‘When the time comes, you must not hesitate. I will ask and you will act.’
‘Yeah. Yes.’
‘There were many I could have asked to receive this honour, but I chose you. So you may not hesitate. You may not doubt what is asked of you. You must have faith and you will be rewarded.’
‘You can rely on me,’ Jamie said. ‘I won’t let you down.’
‘Good.’
A loud squeal of brakes jolted Jamie and Matthew from their conversation, as their AV slowed and spun out. Up ahead, something glowed red, a soft light permeating the snowy morning haze. Two of them. Jamie quickly realised they were tail lights and, as his eyes focused, he saw more. Their own driver quickly straightened the AV up and they began to give chase.
‘Faster,’ Matthew said.
Jamie squinted into the snow-glare of morning to see the bulk of a hulking great snow-topped truck up ahead. And another. And yet another. They were the same model as the abandoned one they’d seen back on the main road.
‘It’s them,’ Jamie said to Matthew. ‘The ones who attacked us earlier.’
Their brothers in the other vehicles were matching their pace now, leaving the foot soldiers and cavalry behind.
‘Run them down,’ Matthew cried. ‘I don’t want them reaching the perimeter.’
Jamie opened his window, letting in a hiss of frosty air. He aimed his machine gun and began firing.
The trucks sped off ahead, toward the perimeter. Jamie and his brothers gave chase, leaving the rest of their army to catch them up. Within five minutes, the perimeter fence materialised in the distance, silver and white. It seemed bigger than Jamie remembered it. Taller, wider, more imposing. It wasn’t at all how he remembered it. He fired at the trucks, but none of their shots seemed to find a target or slow them down. Jamie wondered what would happen once they all reached the fence.
Chapter Thirty
Spread out across the northern horizon, a massive army marched toward us. It had come too close, too fast. The snowstorm had hidden its progress and now they would soon be upon us. Like gathering clouds, this swarm of men, shrinking the sky and smothering the land.
Death was coming to stay.
But Luc was still out there. Somewhere. Was he captured? Dead? If Luc was gone, there was no point in anything. FJ would pay. I would kill him myself. Army or no army.
I heard shouts from below. Pa’s voice. The guards. Everybody scrambling to prepare for the inevitable. For several seconds, Rita and I were frozen in place on the platform, staring in horror at the distant army. Bright lights preceded them – pinpricks of yellow.
Headlights.
So FJ had vehicles too.
Of course he did.
The beams grew stronger as the vehicles drew closer. Spread out in front of their army, but still out of our firing range. I’d left my semi-automatic at home, so now I drew out my Magnum. Rita had the same idea and aimed her pistol down through the razor wire, waiting.
Despite the cold, a thin film of sweat coated my breastbone and forehead, my blood pumping furiously through my body. Today was a day that was always going to come, but now it was here, it didn’t feel real. I saw everything removed from myself, like I was watching a movie. But this was no movie. The snow, the enemy, my sweat and heartbeats – they were all real.
The racing vehicles drew ever closer, headlights flashing. The pitter-patter of automatic gunfire, muffled by snow.
‘That’s Eddie!’ Rita cried. ‘Those are our trucks.’
Luc! My heart jumped.
‘I have to tell the others,’ she said. ‘Stay here.’ Rita almost slid down the ladder, calling to the guards, telling them to cease firing.
The whine of engines deepened to a throaty roar as the trucks came still closer. But, through the milky morning, behind our trucks came another bank of vehicles accompanied by the lightning crackle of gunfire. Our people were being pursued. Still too far away to make out their faces through the windscreen. Right then I’d have given anything for my binoculars. Rita came back up the ladder, a battered looking Kalashnikov now slung across her body.
‘They’re being chased,’ she panted. ‘Those Salisbury bastards are firing on them, but Eddie’s lot are giving as good as they get.’
Come on, Luc, I chanted in my head. You can do it. You can make it home. Not far now. The lead vehicle was now about five hundred yards away and I was sure I could make out Eddie in the driving seat. He had his hand on the horn, his headlights still flashing. Signalling us to open up the gates and let them in. On the passenger side of his truck, one of our guards was leaning out of the window, returning fire.
As they approached, it was as though everything slowed to a single beat of time. The trucks in a line flashing their lights at the perimeter, FJ’s vehicles behind them and the bright sparks of gunfire. But then something happened, and that single beat of time splintered into a thousand fragments of horror:
I s
aw a light zip across the sky, lightning fast with a sound like a firework. There was a pause. And then our lead truck exploded into an orange ball of flames. The sound ripping across the sky with a sickening boom, sending metal and smoke out across the snowy wasteland. I turned from the sight of the burning wreckage to look at Rita, her face a mask of shock.
‘No!’ she yelled, her voice lost in the roar of flames and multiple explosions.
Our other three trucks were nearly home, but one skidded out in the blast and now it tilted at an impossible angle before crashing down onto its side in the snow, sliding away from the perimeter gates. It came to a screeching stop, wheels spinning in the smoke-filled air. Behind our remaining two trucks came an assortment of black jeeps, AVs, trucks and 4x4s – FJ’s vehicles.
From our vantage point up on the platform, I saw the outer gates had now been flung open, guards stationed either side, ready to swing them shut again once our trucks had made it safely through. Only they wouldn’t all be coming through now. One was gone and the other immobilised, fallen.
‘Come on!’ I yelled, tugging at Rita’s arm. ‘We have to go down and see.’ Her face was white and rigid, but she followed my shaky progress down the ladder, her machine gun crashing into each rung as she descended.
Was Luc okay? Had that really been Eddie in the lead truck, or had it been someone else? Back on the ground, we ran around to the guards’ house, skidding and sliding on the snow. Although she moved fast, Rita’s face remained rigid, her mouth open, eyes glazed. In my heart, I knew Eddie had been in that doomed truck, but until it was confirmed there was always a tiny ember of hope.
The guards flung open the gates to both the outer fence and the inner wall. The driver’s eyes were wide as he hit the brakes and turned into a skid. Rita and I backed up instinctively, away from the entrance as we heard the truck screech through, scraping the edge of the wall on his way in. The second truck came in at a steadier pace and the guard had to scramble to get the gates shut before the enemy reached us.
FJ’s vehicles were almost at the fence and they pulled up just as our heavily reinforced gates clanked shut, their armoured-steel sections ringing out, setting my teeth on edge.