Project - 16 (39 page)

“
It isn't,” I admitted.

“
Then I'm sorry. It'd appear that the only person not to gain
by this unfortunate series of events is you and yet you were key to
its completion.”

“
Sucks to be me, I guess.”

“
Indeed. Goodbye, Miller.”

“
Goodbye, General.”

I walked back to the CERV, drained and ready to drop but with
miles still in front of me before I could sleep in my own bed. The
day was materialising in front of me and the sky above was clear,
promising another cold journey. As I started the engine I saw Riley
breaking away from a group of dusty, bloody soldiers and come
running over to me.

“
Miller - where are you going?” she asked.

“
Home,” I replied. I felt sick and I just wanted to get away.
I struggled to meet her gaze.

“
The General told you then,” she said.

“
Yeah. He did.”

“
It'd never have worked,” she said feebly. “We're too
different. This is me, this is who I am. I'm not ready to give that
up just yet.”

“
I know.”

“
Do you?” she said.

“
Yeah,” I replied. “I always did. It was just nice to think
otherwise for a while.” With that I revved the engine and held out
my hand. “Goodbye, Riley.”

“
Goodbye, Miller. And thank you.” We shook and I drove off,
avoiding the rear view mirror in case I didn't have the strength to
carry on.

It was the longest journey I'd ever known and I spent most of
it trapped in tortuous memories of the last week or so. There were
times when I felt like stopping, like finding a cliff edge to drive
off, or just heading into the city and letting the dogs finally
have me. But none of those things happened. I arrived back home
later in the afternoon and was relieved to find the place was still
standing, just as we'd left it a lifetime ago. Corban hadn't felt
the need to bomb it. At least I was grateful for that small
mercy.

I parked the CERV near the garage and unloaded the supplies
I'd taken. I was going through the motions. I was doing the same
old tired routine. What else did I have? I went inside and the air
was the same as it always was when I'd been away for some time. I
lit the stove. I boiled some water. I unpacked my gear and hung it
up to air in the drying room. I couldn't face going upstairs. Her
stuff would be in that room.

I was never one for getting drunk. Dad and I would have a
bottle or two but we'd be merry - we wouldn't drink to relieve the
pain of a difficult mission or to hide from some emotion. So I
didn't go near the cellar. I drank a cup of tea instead and sat at
the kitchen table stirring a bowl of soup until it went
cold.

What had changed? I was back to the place I'd always been -
alone. Why was it different now? Because I'd had a taste of what it
would be like to not be alone. Would I get over it? Sure. A week.
Two maybe.

I watched the snow begin to fall again. It came in tired,
half-hearted flurries like the sky just couldn't be bothered. It
knew it should at least make an effort to snow, but it didn't seem
to have the strength any more. Still, I thought, at least it was
trying.

14.

Three weeks later a helicopter settled down on the grounds
outside my house just after dinner. I was sat with a sandwich,
having a bit of something to eat before heading out with my rifle
to try and catch some game. I went out through the back door and
saw the NSU soldiers jump down and so I waited for them to come
over.

“
Are you Miller?” asked a young man with a pressed uniform and
short blonde hair. He swaggered towards me but it was nothing more
than youthful confidence. A war would knock that out of
him.

“
Yeah,” I replied. “What can I do for you?”

He passed me a bulging envelope and smiled. “General
Ibromavich sends his regards and asks if you would be willing to
accept his offer of work.”

“
Who are they this time?”

“
Three young men who hijacked a private jet and flew it here
from Boston. It landed last night just outside of
Manchester.”

“
Why?”

“
Excuse me?” he asked.

“
Why did they come here?”

“
They believe there's safety here. America is still a mess I'm
afraid.” He looked over my shoulder at the house. “I guess you
aren't getting the feeds.”

“
No.”

“
We're helping as best we can but it's tough. Most states have
tried to form their own kind of militia to fight us, believing
we're the enemy. The General tells me you know
different.”

“
You could say that,” I replied. “Tell him I'll go after
them.”

The young soldier smiled. “Great. The first group of trainees
will arrive in spring. Their files are in that
envelope.”

“
Thank you,” I said.

The soldier nodded, smiled, then turned back towards the
chopper. When the craft was in the air, I went back inside and
threw the envelope on the table - I'd look at it when I got back.
Right then I just wanted to get out there and do something
constructive - it'd been far too long.

I drove well into the night, checking my maps and plotting
possible courses before deciding to stop and rest on the outskirts
of the city near the airport. It made sense for them to land there
given the empty runways but I'd spotted a few other options they
might have taken also.

In the morning I began searching, starting with the terminals
at Manchester which were relatively easy to access. My luck was
with me because there, parked on terminal 3, was the aircraft and
it was clear that they'd taken their time stripping the thing down
for anything they might use.

I got out of the Land Rover and looked around. There was
little to go off except the faint smell of petrol coming from the
plane. Or was it? I began looking with more interest, searching the
tarmac for any clues. As I began walking towards the control tower
I saw small off cuts of wire here and there - fresh because the
first bit of weather would've washed them away. A little further on
I saw a piece of hose. I sniffed it - petrol.

They'd hot wired a car. It couldn't have been in the best of
conditions but somehow they'd brought everything they needed to get
one going again. It meant they could be anywhere and I'd have no
chance of finding them now. Sure they'd struggle for fuel but maybe
they'd brought a load with them.

Saddened by the failure, I got back in the 'Rover and set off
down the runway on the off chance they left any kind of trail, but
there was nothing. I turned around and began heading back. I'd been
hoping for a distraction, something to take my mind off Riley,
maybe a week-long trip. Instead I got a total loss.

I decided to take the overpass down to the road I wanted. I
don't know why, I just felt like trying it. The overpass stretches
over eight lanes of motorway and is still in good condition
considering how long it's been up there. I never usually risked it
but on this occasion I was willing to try anything.

I drove to the crest and pulled up at the pavement's edge.
The air that day was crisp and cool and I fancied boiling up a
coffee before heading back home. As I was getting my stove out from
my pack, I caught sight of something down below and I stopped to
take a closer look.

Beneath me, spanning four north-bound lanes, was an enormous
tear in the tarmac and it had to be at least six cars wide. I
peered down, chilled to the bone by the thing I'd always feared -
perhaps even more than the dogs and that's when I saw
it.

There, in the darkness, were two pin-pricks of red light -
the lights of a car.

I turned the 'Rover around and went back down the overpass,
following the rutted roads until I was on the motorway. I stopped
far enough away from the hole and locked up. Then I climbed over
the barriers, walking on the grass verge towards the chasm. It was
terrifying enough just walking towards the thing. With each step I
expected the ground to open up in front of me and swallow me whole.
It took a while, but I made it to the edge and was able to shine my
torch into the darkness.

There, at the bottom, was their car. The rear lights were
dimming as the battery ran down so it had to have happened a while
before I showed up. There was no way they'd survived. A piece of
concrete with re-bar sticking out of it had smashed through the
windscreen, skewering it and no doubt killing anyone inside. Even
if they'd survived, I had no way of getting them out without NSU
support.

I marked the place on my map and returned to the 'Rover. I
set off for home right away, not wanting to be near the city after
dark for a second night and feeling the call of my own
bed.

In the morning I was sat at my table eating breakfast when I
heard the rotors of a chopper coming from the east. I hadn't
expected them back so soon - I'd been advised to drive east to the
coast to hand over the survivors to a small NSU Task Force based
there. Since I had no survivors I'd planned on driving there that
morning - until this chopper arrived.

The helicopter landed in the middle of the field in front of
the empty student huts. When I went out to meet it, the rotors
powered into life and it lifted effortlessly back up into the air.
Stood on the other side was Riley.

“
Hello Miller,” she said. She was wearing a pair of sky-blue ¾
length running trousers with white trainers and a black sports
hoodie with her hair cut to frame her face. It was streaked with
blue and feathered and she was wearing a little make up around her
eyes. The effect was enough to stun me into silence - I could
barely recognise her. “Please say something.”

“
I-”

She took a few steps closer and the sound of the chopper
faded into the distance. She was waiting for me to say something or
do something, anything, but I couldn't find it in me. I'd spent
three weeks getting over her and now it was like I'd never even
tried.

The one thing I did notice was that she had a duffel bag
hanging by her side and she began rooting inside it.

“
I brought you a gift,” she said, producing a bag of ground
coffee and holding it out to me. I remained where I was. She put
the coffee back in the bag and her eyes began to fill. “I'm so
sorry, Miller. I never meant to hurt you.”

“
You're wearing make-up,” I managed to say. She
laughed.

“
Yeah, I am. Waterproof mascara as well,” she said and a tear
rolled down her cheek. “Just as well, isn't it?”

“
What are you doing here?”

“
I've come to say I'm sorry. To say I’ve been a complete
fucking bitch to you and that I'd be grateful if you'd find a way
to forgive me. So grateful I don't even know where to even start
trying to pay you back.”

“
Why did you change your mind?” She shivered and clasped her
hands together.

“
Can we go inside please Miller? I'm fucking freezing out
here.”

I led her into the kitchen and she sat down at the table. The
stove had managed to heat the entire room and the pan of water I'd
set on it earlier had reached its boil.

“
I'll make some coffee,” I said.

“
Please - use this! I'm told it's nice.” She offered me the
grounds again. I took them, pouring out enough for a pot. In truth
I wanted to scream, to do something to try and vent it all, but the
most I could manage was to push the plunger on the French press
very aggressively and almost scold my hand.

“
Thanks,” she said as I passed her a cup.

“
What happened after I left?” I asked.

“
You didn't hang around to see Alex and Saska part company
then?” I shook my head. “The General offered to fly Alex back to
America with the next shipment of aid. He asked me if I wanted to
go with him but I... Well I knew I couldn't. He was going to find
out what happened to his Mother, maybe see if she
survived.

“
And you didn't go?”

“
I told you before, we never really got on, my Sis and I. I
tried to explain how I felt to him before he left but I think he
understood without my feeble attempt. I told him to keep in touch
through NSU comms. Saska went back to Russia with her
Father.”

“
Oh.”

“
The last I heard they'd managed to replicate the cure. They
were handing out what they could produce but Saska says it'll take
months to get production going on a large scale.”

“
That's good news,” I said. Just the motions. Inside I was a
mess. I wanted to hate her. I wanted to take the moral high ground
but I knew the moment I saw her I'd never gotten over her. I never
would.

“
It is, isn't it? Makes it all worthwhile.”

“
Hmm.”

We sipped our coffee. She was right - it was good stuff.
Silence followed and we realised we couldn't look directly at each
other. I found a spot on the wall to stare at while she looked out
of the window. I decided to man-up and say something.