The Brink (24 page)

“How did he speak to them then? He must have had a way of telling them when he planned on opening the gates and when the Scavs needed to show up, surely?”

“Beats me,” said the guard. “I just work here.”

The door to Sam Stuart’s office opened and once more the well-dressed man framed the doorway, indicating that Alan should enter with a jerk of his head. He said his thanks to the guard and followed him in.

“You’ve found some clothes that fit you I see,” said Sam Stuart, walking back behind his desk and taking his large black leather chair again. “For a man of your size that must be quite a challenge.”

“I was starting to set off the sprinklers with the stench coming from the others,” he replied with a grin. “A young man in the kitchens offered to wash them for me so I went and cleaned myself up.”

“The one thing we seemed to have in abundance here when we arrived was spare clothing. It’s a shame it wasn’t food and water.”

“I’d like to talk to you about that,” he said but Sam Stuart reached for a bottle in his desk drawer and offered him some.

“It’s my last bottle. Will you take a glass?” he asked.

“Please,” he replied. Sam Stuart poured two generous measures and passed one across the desk to him. “Thanks.”

“Richard was a Scav after all,” he said. Alan nodded, sipping the drink. “Looks like this camp owes your pet a big thank you.”

“I think they’ve expressed that already.”

The dog laid out at his feet with a full stomach from the treats she’d been given on their tour of the place. Word had spread quickly about Richard’s betrayal so Moll found herself the subject of the entire population’s gratitude which now weighed heavily in her belly.

“What’ll happen to him?”

“Eventually I’ll have to banish him from here.”

“Eventually?” asked Alan.

“We still don’t know their plans or when they intended to strike. Once I have that information, he’ll be dismissed.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

They stared at each other across the neatly arranged desk. Neither was telling the other the full story and both of them knew it, accepted it, and made sure the other understood it.

“When you arrived here,” he began. “You caused a bit of a stir. A giant of a man walks in with a beast in tow, from the north no less, and immediately discovers a spy in our ranks. My brother also claims you were so far north that you knew his sister who
you
claim may be dead in the rad storm, yet here you are, alive and well.” He leaned forward on his elbows and looked over the rims of his glasses directly at Alan.

“So you’ll forgive me if you seem a little...
suspect
to me.”

“You’re forgiven,” replied Alan. Sam Stuart tipped his head slightly in response.

“My brother wasn’t the most ‘together’ person before this catastrophe and he was worse still when the survivors were given an unhealthy dose of radiation and came to him for aid. I’ve done my best by him, I’ve kept an eye on his comings and goings, limited his alcohol, that kind of thing. Yet now he seems beyond hope because you gave him news about his sister - unwelcome news at that.”

“It was the truth,” said Alan.

“That’s possible, I confess.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s in my own quarters, sleeping off his hangover until he wakes and starts again. I’m afraid he doesn’t have long left for this world and I almost envy that. Perhaps the indicator of how bad a situation has become can be judged by how much jealousy a person has for the dead?”

“It could be worse,” he replied, regretting it almost immediately.

“It could be better. It was hard enough after the first disaster, finding food, finding warmth, trying to get things back on their feet. Then the storm comes and we run for cover again, wondering if the sun will disappear in the clouds of a nuclear winter. Uncertainty. Doubt. Horror. No sooner do we make a home here than the Scavs show up and want to take it from us. Can you understand my brother’s reluctance to leave his drunken fantasy realm?”

“I can understand it,” he said. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to encourage it.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Change.”

“Ah yes,” said Sam Stuart with a rueful smile. “
Change
. People love change. And just what is it you intend to change?”

“You’ve got some huge issues here. The infirmary-”

“It isn’t really an infirmary, is it? Or hadn’t you noticed that we cannot heal the radiation sickness? We can’t cure the cancer our people will eventually develop or put their teeth and hair back into their heads. It’s more of a hospice for the dying than a hospital for the sick.”

“It’s this kind of attitude that-”

“It’s this kind of attitude that comes from being crushed under the cruel hands of fate, of being kicked to the floor and trampled on by life. It isn’t my fault that the sun was blotted out for a year, it wasn’t my fault someone fired off nukes and burned the sky. It wasn’t my fault or my brother’s fault that he couldn’t do more for the poor victims.”

“What happens next-”

“What happens next,” he said, his face flushing red. “Is MY decision and not yours. I’ve held my tongue, I’ve given you a full day to see exactly who you are and I’ve reached the conclusion that you’re just like all the rest.”

“Like who?”

“You’re a power-seeker. You want to be the next Churchill, the next great leader, a Nelson with the same reckless, care-free attitude, spending your human currency on the altar of sacrifice yet offering none yourself. You’ve got big ideas on how to give my people hope and then you’ll snatch it from them the moment the crops don’t yield and the water dries up. You would promise them the earth at the cost of three square meals and a roof over your head and when the time came you’d bolt, never to be seen again. Am I that far from the truth?”

Alan was too shocked, too stunned to answer immediately. Sam Stuart went on.

“I’ll tell you this much as well and you’d better mark my words - I will
never
, and I mean NEVER see a man like you sit in this chair and attempt to sell these people out for your own ill-gotten gains. You would be wise, sir, to pack your bags and take that mongrel dog and your retarded ward with you before my temper runs out and I command the guards to have you locked up.”

He stood, drained his glass and rested both hands on the edge of the table as if he were struggling to stand from the effort of summoning up so much rage.

“I believe we are finished here. A good day to you.”

Very slowly, Alan rose to his feet, the knuckles of both hands white hot as if held in fire. His eyes never left Sam Stuart’s as he spoke.

“I can see what’s going on here. Now it’s time for you to mark
my
words. There are nearly 300 people here, under your care, who’ve reached the end of their own spirit, their own hope, their own courage to stay the course and survive this disaster. Maybe you don’t-”

Sam Stuart attempted to speak but a savage snarl from Moll who, unknown to him, had risen with the hairs on her back standing on end, silenced him immediately.

“Maybe you don’t care what happens to them,” continued Alan. “But I do, and I swear to you that if you stand in my way I will burn you, your brother and anyone else who even thinks of siding with you. Am I clear?”

“You do not come into my-”

“AM I CLEAR?” he roared.

For a moment, Sam Stuart forgot his rage and saw only the two pairs of eyes burning into his own. Almost without his will, he nodded his compliance just as the door opened behind Alan.

“Is everything okay?” asked the guard. Neither of them spoke nor did they break their stare. In the end, Sam Stuart, red faced with pure hatred, turned and signalled for them all to get out. Alan complied and, turning his back on the man, left.

Alan found himself storming back to the caravan, his fury still glowing like white-hot metal and unable to cool even in the night air. As he walked down the road he replayed the conversation over and over until the door was in front of him.

“Tim?” he called, remembering that Rachel had offered to walk him back at six and, finding that she was still sat there, waiting for him, smiled. “Rachel - is everything okay?”

“I didn’t want to leave him alone,” she replied, putting down the small paperback she was reading with a piece of red cloth as a bookmark.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking off his long coat and hanging it on a peg. “I had to see Sam Stuart at eight, I should’ve said – my mind’s been all over the place today.”

“How did it go?”

“Not so good,” he replied, taking up a chair. “He thinks I’m here to take over. He asked me to leave.”

“He what? Seriously?” she said, leaning forward with wide eyes and clasping her knees with her hands. “Why? Can’t he see you just want to help?”

“I guess not. He was very clear about it. He sees me as a threat and I-”

“You’re not seriously thinking of leaving, are you?”

“It’s not like I’m a big member of the community or anything...”

“What do you mean? You’ve been here 24 hours and already you’re a legend. People are thinking that you’re going to help us, that you’re going to get the crops growing again. John told everyone-”

“Told everyone what?”

“That this is what you do, that you were a gardener once and-”

“I looked after gardens, I wasn’t into mass-producing zucchini!”

She looked at him and started to laugh.

“What?” he said, grinning, unable to resist her smile.

“Zucchini?”

“Well, I couldn’t think of another vegetable so quickly, could I?”

“Clearly not.”

She looked down at the floor and wiped her moist eyes with the back of her hand. He wondered if they were tears of laughter or not.

“Please don’t go,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because I know you can help us. I know that Sam Stuart and Doc have stopped believing in us. I know they’ve given up and that’s why everybody else has given up too. They need hope, Alan. They need the same thing you gave Tim.”

“And what was that?”

“A chance. You made him believe he could be happy again.”

“And is he?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “He’s so happy and so proud of his giant friend. He told me today at the school.”

“Did he enjoy it?” he asked.

“He loves it. We had some tea and then we came back and he rushed to bed because he was so tired. If you could’ve seen him, Alan, you’d have been so proud. If you go you’ll be taking that away from him. You’ll be taking it away from yourself.”

“Maybe,” he replied, remembering the cruel comment Sam Stuart had said of the boy and feeling the anger burn again.

“Will you sleep on it at least?” she asked, tilting her head and grinning.

“Yeah, I guess I will.”

She stood and smoothed her skirt before picking up the book she was reading and, tucking it under her arm, made her way to the door.

“What are you reading?” he asked. She paused, held up the spine and let him see it. “Any good?”

“It’s okay I guess. We’re a bit limited on books around here. I’ve managed to put a few aside at the school if you want to take a look. Do you read much?”

“Quite a bit. I struggle to sleep these days.”

“I can understand that.
Here
.” She offered him the one in her hands and he shook his head. “Please, I don’t mind.”

“Then I’ll swap with you. I brought one along with me but I finished it ages ago.”

He rooted in his pack for the book he’d been carrying since Teague’s camp and passed it to her. “Here.”

“Thank you. I hope you enjoy that one.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Goodnight, Mr Harding.”

“Goodnight, Rachel.”

For a while after she left he sat there, thinking over the day and turning it in his mind like a crystal, letting the light catch every facet and splash on the inside of his head. He knew what would happen next. If he didn’t leave then Sam Stuart would come for him, one way or another. It might not be straight away, but it would come and it would be public. He’d discredit him somehow; show the others that he wasn’t to be trusted and that Sam Stuart and Doc were. Then he’d be thrown out by everyone, turned back out into the wastes and more than likely so would Tim. The thought broke his heart. The boy was happy here and he had a kind of future that wandering the country with him would never provide. He was safe. He was loved and it had all happened in a day. The common fate of those surviving two disasters made quick bonds and yet, he thought, looking at the book, it drove men to desperate actions they’d have never considered back in the old world.

Alan turned his chair towards the door as he waited for the kettle to boil. They’d come for him, he thought. How it happened would decide his next move, one way or another. He opened the book and began reading.