UK Dark Series (Book 1): UKD1 Page 9
“Jerry, I’m on my way over to help, but start getting some supplies out of the cellar and stacked in the hallway. I’ll explain my plan to you when I arrive.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I found Pete and told him where I was going and that Jerry had a theory about getting a car started, so not to be surprised if we turned up in one. For speed, I put a car battery and a few tools into a rucksack and got my mountain bike from the garage. Car batteries are heavy things, so I was a bit uncomfortable as I pedalled up the road with the rucksack on my back and the MP5 slung around my front. When I was just past the High Street there was a shout from behind me. Looking back, I saw a couple of youths starting to chase after me. That made me forget how heavy the rucksack was and I turned into Chris Hoy. It’s amazing how fast you can cycle when you need to. I soon lost them, and a few minutes later I arrived at Jerry’s house.
Jerry opened the door and helped me to get the bike into the house.
“Let’s not waste any time,” I said. “I need you to keep sorting what supplies you want to take first, and that definitely includes the guns. I'll help you, because if I manage to get the Land Rover started, we’re really going to have to get a move on.” What I was planning to do, as soon as I got the car started and drove it round to Jerry’s house, was to get Fiona and the two kids in and fill the back of the car, and whatever space was left, with the first load of supplies. Then I’d quickly drop them off at my street, hook up my trailer and head back to get Jerry and another load of stuff, hopefully without attracting too much attention.
I called Becky on the walkie-talkie.
“Becky, can you get the trailer ready, and get hold of Pete for me?” I quickly filled him in on the plan and asked him to make sure we had enough people available to help unload the supplies. I didn’t want to leave Jerry on his own for too long, so a quick turnaround would be essential.
For the next hour Jerry, Fiona and I carried supplies up from the cellar and stacked them by the front door in the order in which we wanted to load them. We weren’t sure how much we were going to be able to take with us, but eventually the pile looked big enough and I called a halt. The first things to be loaded would be the ammunition, baby and medical supplies and clothes. Then we would need as much food as we could cram in. We pulled the shelf unit back over the door to conceal it. It hid the doorway completely.
We were ready to go. Jerry told me where the car was. It was just around the corner so I decided to walk. The Land Rover was parked on the drive of an obviously empty house (the door had been kicked in, and items from inside were strewn across the drive). “At least I won’t have an angry owner to face while I’m attempting to steal his pride and joy,” I thought, as I looked the car over.
It was one I recognised, because I’d seen it driving around the area. Its owner and I had always waved at each other as we passed, congratulating ourselves on our taste in transport. It was a long-wheelbase model about the same age as mine, but it had a large cage-type metal roof rack on top with sides about six inches tall on them. I’d brought tools with me, so that I could take the ignition apart and hot-wire it, but thankfully the keys were in the ignition, probably left there in disgust when it didn’t start, and then forgotten about. I lifted the passenger seat, underneath which the battery sits, and quickly changed the batteries over, tightened up the connections and closed the bonnet. Looking round, I could see a man looking at me through the window of a house opposite. He didn't look threatening so I ignored him. I radioed Jerry.
“Right, Jerry, I’m going to try to start the car.”
“Okay. Good luck,” came the reply from him, and also from Becky, who was listening in.
Turning the key, I held my breath. The engine turned over, but didn't catch. I tried again and this time it caught, but as I was feathering the throttle the engine died after a few beats.
“Come on!” I screamed at it, “Don't do this to me now, you can do it!” She must have been listening and been sorry for messing me about, because on the third attempt she caught and after a few seconds of bubbling along, settled down to a steady beat. “Thank you, my darling, I’m sorry I shouted at you,” I muttered, as I put it in gear ready to drive off. The driver’s door was suddenly pulled open and a hand reached in to grab me. It was the man from the house opposite. I instinctively swung out with my right arm and my elbow caught him in the face. He stumbled and fell backwards. I looked at him. He was about fifty, and quite a small bloke. I put the Land Rover back into neutral as he got up and started to come towards me again. I pulled the Glock out of the holster and pointed it at him. He stopped in his tracks and held his arms out.
“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed at him, “If you take one more step towards me, I’ll shoot and believe me I don't want to do that!”
“Please, I’m sorry, we haven’t eaten for days and we’re starving” pleaded the man, breaking down in tears.
I looked beyond him and at the doorway of the house he’d come from, stood a woman I presumed was his wife, and three teenage kids. My God, it had only been a few weeks and this man, who looked as mild mannered and timid as anyone I’d ever seen, was trying to attack me for what he thought I had. My anger changed instantly to compassion. The walkie-talkie bleeped and Jerry came on to find out if everything was OK. I quickly replied, telling him that I would be there in a minute and to get ready.
I thought for a second and lowered my gun. “Look, if you follow me round the corner and help me load this car for a friend of mine, we'll give you some food as a thank you.”
He nodded and seemed relieved. I put the car into gear and drove quickly round to Jerry’s house, acutely aware of the noise I was making. As I backed on to his drive, we immediately put Larry and Jack into the back of the car. I opened the rear door and started to pile the crate from his brother and the medical supplies, and boxes and boxes of food into it. As we were loading I explained to Jerry what had happened, and the offer I had made to the man. He agreed that it was the right decision to make. The man promptly turned up with two of his children. I thanked them for trusting me and immediately got them to start loading boxes into the roof rack. One of them climbed up and the other two passed them up. In less than ten minutes we had it all loaded and were ready to go.
“Right, now here’s what’s happening,” I explained to the man, “Jerry’s staying here and I’ll be back in about ten minutes to load up again. Then we’ll give you some food.”
He nodded as Fiona and I jumped into the car and drove off. As I looked in my rear-view mirror, I could see Jerry leading the man and his boys into the house. I passed the walkie-talkie to Fiona and told her to say we were two minutes away and that they should get ready.
I couldn’t drive too fast because I was having to steer around all the cars abandoned in the road. However, it only took a couple of minutes to get there. When we pulled into the road, I could see that the car barricade had been completed, but cleverly, a gap had been left in the middle so that I could drive the car through. Becky immediately took charge of Fiona and the kids and took them straight into our house. Pete, true to his word, had about ten of the neighbours waiting to help, so it only took a few minutes to unload all the goods. I then turned the Land Rover around, hooked up the trailer and got ready to drive off. Allan jumped into the passenger seat, saying he wanted to help. Who was I to refuse? As we drove back, I said,
“Only don’t give me a ticket, because I haven't connected the electrics, so the trailer brake lights won’t be working.” He kept a straight face, and replied, “I’m more concerned that the car isn’t displaying a tax disc,” and he ripped it off the windscreen and threw it out of the side window. “Anyway, I’m not up to date on the law, but the last time I checked, having a machine gun across your lap and a pistol on your hip meant at least a couple of points on your licence.”
“Touché!” I replied, laughing.
Driving back to Jerry’s house, a few people must have heard the car passing the fir
st time and come out of their houses to see what was happening. Most of them looked haggard and thin and just stared in amazement, as the first working car they had seen in a few weeks drove past. Some shouted for us to stop, when they saw a man in a police uniform in the front seat. Others just held their arms out in a silent appeal for help.
The sight sobered us up immediately. “Allan,” I said quietly, “we can’t help them all, we just can't, and if we do, then in a few short weeks, we’ll be just as desperate as those poor sods.”
“I know,” he replied solemnly, “I have thought about distributing more of the supplies, but I know it would just be a drop in the ocean, given what these people need, and soon we’d all have nothing left. I’ve already decided just to help your group, and was thinking about asking if I can come and join you.”
“I’m sure you’d be more than welcome, but let’s discuss it later. This is Jerry's house now.”
Backing up on the drive, Jerry already had the door open and with his helpers, was bringing out boxes of supplies. I quickly introduced Allan and Jerry to each other and they shook hands. We then got on with loading the car and trailer, as we now had a lot more space in the car and it was going to take longer to get finished, which was worrying.
A few minutes later, I looked up and saw a group of men approaching us. I warned Allan and told him it would probably be better if he spoke to them, as the sight of his uniform might buy us some time. I grabbed my MP5 out of the car and told Jerry, who already had his slung over his shoulder, to go and get the shotgun out of the house. We carried on loading the supplies as quickly as we could. I could hear Allan using what I presumed to be his best policeman voice, telling the growing crowd to go back home and let us carry on with our business. I could tell they weren’t having any of it. I said to myself, “Time to act a lot braver than you feel”, and grabbing Jerry’s pump-action shotgun, I walked over to back Allan up. People took a step back as I approached. I must have looked very intimidating. I had a pistol in a holster, a machine gun on my back and was carrying a mean looking shotgun.
Calmly but clearly, I said: “Go home, there’s nothing for you here. I’m here to help a friend move some of his things and I’ve asked PC Harris here to come along and make sure nothing happens to his private property. I don't want to hurt anybody, but if anybody threatens any of us, PC Harris has authorised me, in accordance with the emergency powers he’s operating under, to use deadly force if necessary.” I was making it up as I went along, but I thought it sounded plausible. It must have done, because the crowd, which had grown to about twenty people, seemed to take a few steps back. A voice from the back shouted,
“We’ve got no food. You can’t stop us taking it.” I saw a few men push to the front carrying crow bars and golf clubs. Beside me, Allan whispered,
“Don’t take a step back. As soon as we do, they’ll be on us.” I glanced behind me and saw Jerry and the man with his two sons, feverishly loading up the Land Rover and trailer. I raised the shotgun to my shoulder and pumped a cartridge into the chamber.
A few of the crowd decided they’d seen enough, pushed their way to the back and left.
“Come on, Jerry. Bloody hurry up!” I screamed silently to myself.
“You can't stop us, we’re not in a police state,” shouted the unknown voice from the back again. At that moment, I would have gladly shot the coward who was standing at the back, trying to get the crowd to do his dirty work for him. But he wasn’t going to show himself. A few more tense minutes passed.
Suddenly a rock was thrown, which bounced off the side of the Land Rover. “That’s it!” I decided. “No more pratting about!” I stepped forward, pointed the shotgun over the heads of the crowd and fired a shot. I pumped the action again to load another cartridge, pointed it at the men in the front row and shouted “That's the last warning shot I’m going to fire. The next person who takes a step forward, I’ll shoot, and at this range it’ll cut you in half!” That did it. The crowd turned and ran, shouting obscenities as they fled.
Allan looked at me and said, “Rambo look out! And what the hell are those emergency powers?” I handed the shotgun to him and said,
“Hold this for a moment will you, I think I’m going to be sick and I’m about to wet myself.” I promptly ran over to the front garden wall and threw up over it. So much for Rambo!
The Land Rover and trailer were now fully loaded. I don’t think they could have squeezed one more tin of beans into it, or on to the roof rack. We thanked our helpers, and after getting Jerry's permission, told them they could have all the supplies that were left in the hallway of the house. I asked them if they were going to be all right getting them home. They had worked out that their gardens almost backed on to each other and as the houses in between were empty now, they could make a few trips by passing the boxes over the fences.
He apologised again for attacking me and thanked us all profusely for the food. We wished them luck and headed home, opting for an alternative route to avoid passing the people we had seen earlier. Allan got on the radio.
“We’re on our way back. Expect us in five minutes.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as we were back in the road, Pete gave orders for the gap in the barricade to be closed by pushing the waiting car in front of it. Plenty of people appeared to help unload the supplies from the Land Rover and trailer. On the drive back I talked to Jerry about his supplies.
“I think it would be a great idea if you offered some of your supplies to the community as a thank you gift. You needn’t worry because, with what you’ve got left hidden back at your house, together with what I’ve got in storage, we’ll have enough to feed both our families for a very long time. Giving some away would be a good way of deflecting any jealousy when people see what we’re unloading.”
While Jerry introduced himself to everyone who had gathered round to help, I organised a chain of people to help carry the supplies into the house.
There was an appreciative round of applause when I told them all that Jerry was going to donate a part of what he had to the road. The remaining supplies still made an impressive pile once they were all unloaded and stacked in our hallway.
We showed Jerry and Fiona the spare bedroom in which Becky had thoughtfully set up a travel cot for Jack, and a blow-up bed for Larry. Becky and Fiona had hit it off immediately. Becky couldn’t stop fussing over Jack as her maternal instincts kicked in the way that they do, when any woman with older children comes within ten feet of a young baby. I just knew that in bed later, Becky would start talking about how nice it would be for Stanley and Daisy to have a little brother or sister. “Well, at least this time I’ll have a great excuse. After all, the end of the world as we know it, is happening outside our bedroom window! Surely she’ll see sense?”
I showed Jerry the supplies I had stored in the garage and the playroom.
He was very impressed with how much we had, and how we’d organised it so that any items we needed could easily be reached.
Pete and Allan dropped in to see how Jerry and his family were settling in. Pete gave me an update on how the road’s defence plan was going. Both ends of the road now had a barrier of cars across and most of the neighbours who lived at the ends of the road had seen the sense in moving closer together. The arrangements to move into either one of the empty houses, or in with friends, were progressing nicely. A lot more work needed to be done, but it was a start, and at least the neighbours were mostly all cooperating.
Allan arranged to move in with Pete and his family. He was going to spend tonight and probably most of tomorrow at the police station, sorting out what equipment they had stored there, and getting it ready to be moved. We discussed using the car and trailer, but when Allan and I told Pete what had happened at Jerry’s house we all agreed that it was best not to attract any more attention than we already had.
The patrols and the barricading of the road were bound to be noticed and make any outsiders wonder what we were prot
ecting. If they knew we had a working car, it would probably make them even more determined to try to take it from us, along with anything else we had.
As we sat around my kitchen table, a shout and the sound of the Land Rover starting made us all run to the front door. We saw the car speeding up the road and swerving around the neighbours as they tried to stop it. As it slowed down to get through the barricade, I saw that the car that had been blocking the entrance had already been rolled out of the way. At this point a man called Ian stood in front of the Land Rover to stop it, but instead it ploughed into him with a sickening thud, knocked him partially out of the way, then ran over his legs as it sped away. It turned on to the High Street and disappeared from view.
Pete, Jerry, Allan and I ran up to the barricade, shouting at the people who were out on the street, trying to find out what had happened.
“It was Rick and the Coles!” one of them shouted back. “They were on patrol at the barricade. I saw them push the car out of the way, then they ran to the car, got all their families inside it and drove off. It happened so quickly we couldn’t stop them.”
Jerry was kneeling on the floor next to Ian, who looked in a bad way. “Go and get my Trauma Kit; it’s in the hall of your house. You can’t miss it, it’s a green rucksack with a white cross on it!” he shouted at me. I ran back to my house, grabbed the bag and brought it back to Jerry.
“He’s dead,” Pete said softly as I returned, “Jerry thinks his neck is broken.”