Flare (20 page)

I was also more than a little worrie
d about Emily.  Since the attack she’d withdrawn into herself, talking when spoken to but never volunteering information or making any attempt at conversation without prompting.  I knew it had to be a reaction to the horrific attack, but I didn’t know how to broach the subject without blundering into it like an idiot and causing more damage, so I kept quiet and watched her carefully in case she needed me.

The sun was low in the sky when we finally reached High Wycombe, having spent the day walking past tall fences that
had blocked the noise of the road from the houses nearby in better times, the tips of trees poking over as if watching our lonely journey.

As we trudged down the slip road onto the M40, the road that would take us to Melody, I called a halt.

“What do you think, give it a mile or so to get away from the town and find a place to camp?”  I asked, getting a weary shrug and a nod in return.

We walked towards the setting sun, visible occasionally through the puffy clouds that still filled the sky, my ankle feeling better for the support of the boots but my toes painful from where the stiff leather rubbed at them.

For a moment I caught myself wishing that we could book into a hotel, have a lazy soak in the bath and then eat a huge plate of cheap-and-cheerful food in a nearby pub, but banished the thought as whimsical and childish before it could take hold.

The world had changed.  In less than a week, everything had turned on its head, and if I was to survive then I needed to think practically, not spend my hours wishing for things that would never be.

I had to call Emily’s name three times when I found a suitable camping spot.  She finally stopped and did little more than run her eyes over the clearing I’d pointed to before walking over to it and dropping her Bergen.

It was only thirty or so metres away from the road
but I’d been walking up on the high verge and while it was visible from here in the light, no one from the road could see it and at night you’d have to trip right over us to know we were there.

A few days ago I would have be
en proud of my newfound ability but now it was just survival.

I set
the cooker up while Emily pitched the tent, but instead of joining me for the meal she crawled inside and zipped it shut behind her without a word.

I ate my food alone, staring up at the tops of the trees to catch occasional glimpses of the stars in the early evening sky when the cloud allowed, and considered giving Emily her space by sleeping outside.

I didn’t consider it for long, however, as a light rain began to fall and I hurried to stow everything away before unzipping the tent and crawling in.

Emily’s eyes stared at me in the semi-darkness, the huge, luminous orbs of a wounded animal or scared child.  Without a word, I removed my boots and outer clothing, then slid into my sleeping bag and reached out to put an arm around
her, drawing her in close so that her back was to my chest and my face rested in her hair.  Her body jerked as I touched her, then she relaxed and snuggled in close as silent sobs wracked her small frame.

There was no passion there, no repeat of our earlier tension, but instead just the warm comfort of another human being held close in a world that no longer made sense.

Chapter 31

The next three days were almost identical.  Wake up, make breakfast, strike the tent and walk along the M40, sticking to the hard shoulder and listening carefully for any sign of military vehicles that we might have to hide from.

I had little doubt that we would be scooped up and taken away were we to be found, although I had no idea where or why they were taking people.

As the days went on we both came back to ourselves a little.  My detachment seemed to be fading, although I still lacked the remorse I felt should be appropriate, and Emily began to talk again, telling me stories of her childhood that occasionally had me crying with laughter as she looked on with a smile.  It sounded like growing up with Ralph for a father had been interesting, and I wished I’d know my father for longer as I listened to the stories.

“What about your parents?”  Emily asked late on the third day, as if reading my mind, “you never talk about them”.

I shrugged.  “Not much to tell.  My father died when I was fairly young.  He was only fifty eight but he had a heart attack.  My mum did her best after that but we were always struggling to make ends meet.  She had a little business going repairing clothes out of the back room, and between that and what the government gave us we had enough, but we never went on holiday or even really went away for the weekend, unless it was to her sister’s in Norfolk”.

“Any brothers or sisters?”

I shook my head.  “No
, and I think I was an accident to be honest.  My mum was always really uptight, even before my dad died.  She used to treat me like I was a necessary evil.  I don’t think she ever once actually asked me about my life other than to make sure I wasn’t sick.  Maybe she would have been better off with a dog”.

I tried to keep the sadness out of my voice but failed.  It was always the same when I thought about her, wondering why we had never been close.  It made hearing the stories and seeing the way Emily, Ralph and Harriet were with each other utterly charming, but at the same time a stark reminder that I’d never had those things.

Which was why, I’d always promised, I would make sure that when I had a child we would be friends as well as family, and that we would share everything.

Emily squeezed my arm briefly as she walked past, climbing a slip road for a better view of the terrain ahead.

I followed her slowly and was half way up when she came running back down at a flat out sprint.

“Get off the road!”  She said, grabbing me and pulling me back the way we’d come.

I complied without thought, following her as she raced for a stand of trees, the trunks tucked behind the hedge that lined the road.

We forced our way through the hedge and made
for the trees, throwing ourselves flat on the ground as a faint rumble reached my ears.

“What is it?”  I asked, gasping to get my breath back after the sudden run.

“Army convoy”, she whispered, despite the noise coming from the road.  “Eight trucks, several hundred soldiers and a couple of Landrovers at the front with .50 cal machine guns.  Looks more like an invading force than a rescue mission.

“Where the hell are they all coming from?”  I whispered back.

She shrugged and peered around the tree, trying to see the road through the thick hedge with little success.

The sound of engines grew louder, and then the faint sound of marching feet joined it.  Joining Emily in looking around the tree, I could just make out a forest of legs in the same camo we were wearing marching past on the road.

As I watched, the trucks pulled to a halt and a voice called out, telling the men to break ranks and have chow.

“Shit”, Emily breathed, “that means they’ll put out sentries and they’ll push out at least this far.  We need to move,
now
”.

Without waiting to see if I followed she moved back from the trees, turning and hurrying across the field, horribly exposed as she made for the hedge on the far side.  Seeing no other option I followed her, but I hadn’t made it more than a few feet when I heard a shout from the road and a dozen soldiers pushed through the hedge, rifles to their shoulders.

“Halt or we fire!”  The voice rang out from just the other side of the trees, and I saw Emily stiffen, then stop and raise her hands, turning back to face them.

I thought for a minute they hadn’t seen me, but then the voice called again.

“And you, behind the trees.  Put the weapon down and step to your right”.

I exchanged an anguished look with Emily.  There was nothing we could do but comply, anything else and I had no doubt we’d be fired upon, and there was no way that all twelve of them could miss.

I put the shotgun down carefully and raised my hands, stepping slowly to my right as I turned to look at the soldiers.

Twelve men knelt in a firing line, half with their rifles trained on me and the others on Emily, while a thirteenth man stood slightly behind them, a tab with sergeant’s stripes in the centre of his chest.

“You, the man, step forward and walk to your left until you reach the end of the line”, he said, and I did as instructed, stopping as I came within a few feet of the end soldier.

At a nod from his sergeant, this soldier slung h
is rifle and pushed me roughly onto my front, removing the Bergen and my belt, including the knife, before pulling out a set of large cable ties and binding my wrists together uncomfortably tight.

I gasped in pain but he ignored me, instead going through my pockets and clothing until he was sure I had nothing else that might be a threat.

As he took my wallet, I turned my head to look at him.

“Please”, I said, “there’s a picture of my little girl in there, don’t take it”.

The young soldier glanced at the sergeant, who shrugged.

“All personal effects to be retained by us until everything has been processed.  Now shut up”.  He turned back to Emily.  “You, approach slowly, hands behind your head.  If I see anything I don’t like, you get shot”.

I couldn’t see her approach, held down as I was in the grass, but I heard her hit the ground as two soldiers left the line, one returning to hand her pistol to the sergeant while the other searched her.

“Hey, I’m a sergeant in the Royal Electro…ugh!”  I tried to turn my head to see what was happening but the soldier was ready for me, planting a knee in my spine and forcing me into the earth so hard I chewed mud.

“The prisoner will not speak unless ordered to!”  The sergeant shouted, “whoever they think they might be!”

A few moments later the sergeant barked another order and the line broke, two soldiers hauling me to my feet while another pair took hold of Emily, marching us back through the hedge and onto the road to the curious stares of the rest of the soldiers.

It was an impressive convoy.  The road fairly teemed with soldiers, and as we were pushed towards one of the trucks a man with two golden pips on his chest walked over and motioned for the men walking us to stop.

“What have we here?”  He said, looking me up and down and then switching his gaze to Emily.

“They were trying to run away”, the sergeant said, “but when we caught them, this one claimed to be a sergeant, REME I think”.

He pointed at Emily and the officer strode over to stand in front of her.

“Is that correct?”

She nodded.  “Sergeant Emily Morris, 1
st
Battalion REME.  Service number 25095611, sir”.

He looked at her for a long while before speaking.

“So why is it,
sergeant
, that you were trying to make off rather than identify yourself?”

“Seen
a lot of strange things sir, wasn’t sure what was going on, and I, uh, I’m attending to a family matter sir”.

She glanced over at me as she spoke and I saw the hopelessness in her expression.  Now we were caught up in whatever great machine these people worked for, there was little hope of us getting free to find Melody unless we were very lucky.

“A
family
matter?  That doesn’t explain why you were trying to avoid us.  Still, you can explain all that to the Colonel”.

He signalled to the sergeant. “Detail four men and take them back to base in one of the Landrovers”.

“Sir”. 

Arms seized us again and we were hustled into the back of one of the vehicles, wedged onto metal benches in the back while our gear was placed safely out of reach.  Four soldiers climbed in with us and the Land
rover pulled a U-turn, heading northwest along the M40.

“I don’t suppose you can tell us where we’re going, can you?”  I asked the soldier next to me.

He elbowed me in the ribs hard enough to hurt.  “No talking”.

I winced and looked over at Emily, hoping to see something in her expression, confidence perhaps, but instead I could only see a worry that mirrored my own as we were driven in silence to whatever fate now awaited us.

Chapter
32

We were on the M40 for about thirty minutes before the driver pulled off and headed west, first taking a main road and then cutting through country lanes that twisted and turned and had me thoroughly lost in minutes.

Although any attempt to speak was dealt with aggressively, our escort seemed to have no problems with letting me lean forward so that I could see where we were going.