Aftermath

What you’re suggesting is limiting yourselves to some kind of medieval lifestyle.”

“You’re the one living in a castle,” Richard said under his breath.

“No, we’re not limiting ourselves,” Donna protested. “Bloody hell, Jas, what do you think’s going to happen when the bodies are completely finished and you finally pluck up courage to go back outside? Are you just going to flick a few switches and turn the world back on again? You won’t get the power working, or the gas. What happens when all the batteries in all the cars finally run flat, or when all the fuel’s used up and you’ve drained every tank dry? What do you do then? You’re going to end up building yourself an island of your own, and you’ll be as stranded and cut off as we are.”

“Bollocks.”

“She’s right,” Jackson said, speaking just to Jas initially, but then turning around so that he could address everyone in the room. “It’s all about economies of scale now. The world’s too far gone to pull back from the brink. We’ve got no choice but to go right back to basics, and no matter what you say, Jas, Donna’s right. Your world is going to keep getting smaller and smaller until it’s just you. They’ve already anticipated that on the island. And because of their location and their attitude, they’re going to try and build something from the ruins instead of just picking meat off the bones, as you put it. I don’t know about the rest of you lot, but I think our best bet is to leave here with these people and head for the island.”

“I don’t,” Jas said, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, but also strangely unemotional and detached. In the expectant pause before he spoke again, the only sound was the steady low thumping of the generator outside. It sounded like a headache felt. “Leaving the mainland would be a mistake,” he continued, “and it’s atake you’ll find hard to put right. They’re not going to operate charter helicopter flights to fly you back if things don’t work out, are they? Anyone who leaves here will be risking everything. We’d be completely cut off. What happens if things go wrong? Where’s the escape plan?”

“If we do it right we won’t need to escape,” Lorna said. Jas looked at her with disappointment.

“I thought you’d understand, Lorna. You should know better than most that you always need an escape plan. Do you remember what happened when we were at the flats, or have you already forgotten about Ellie and Anita?”

She shook her head. Several low and uneasy sounding conversations began to spring up.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten them,” Lorna said. “You’re just scaremongering.”

“No, I’m not,” he said. “This is an important and valid point. For those of you who don’t know, Ellie and Anita were with us a long time back, right at the beginning. They both got sick and died. We don’t know what killed them or why it didn’t finish the rest of us off, we just packed up and moved on rather than hang around and find out. So tell me, if there’s an outbreak of something like the disease that killed Ellie and Anita on the island, where are you going to run to?”

“What do you think the source was?” Cooper asked.

“Don’t know,” Jas replied. “We assumed it was the bodies. We were surrounded by masses of them.”

“Problem solved, then. We don’t have any bodies on Cormansey. Nothing to worry about.”

“We assumed it was the bodies,” Jas said again, “but I’ve long wondered if that really was the case. No one else got sick after them, and we were all exposed, some of us considerably more so, in fact. It might have been something else—something they both ate, something they smoked, something naturally occurring. Don’t forget, we’re moving into an age now where our chances of getting ill are going to increase. Smallpox, TB, the Black Death … who knows what might make a reappearance to bite our arses.”

“Donna’s right—now you are just scaremongering,” Cooper said. “The risks of getting contagious diseases are hardly going to increase when there’s no one else left to catch them from. Look, I still don’t understand why you’re doing this. We came here to offer a solution, not to cause more problems.”

Jas stood up and pointed accusingly at him.

“Have you not listened to anything I’ve said? Your bloody solution might well turn out to be the cause of the problems. The bottom line is, isolating ourselves on an island is just too big a chance to take. We can’t risk it. I won’t risk it, and if anyone else here has got any sense, they won’t either.”

Jackson alsoo his feet. He’d had enough.

“We’re not going to get anywhere like this. I suggest we all sleep on it. Make your decisions overnight. Those who want to leave can go first thing. The rest of you can stay.”

Jas nodded his agreement. He remained where he was for a few moments longer, but there was nothing left to say. He left the room, meeting over. Several others—Kieran, Bayliss, Ainsworth, Paul Field, and Melanie among them—left with him.

Cooper helped himself to a can of lager and downed it at once. Around him, other people began drifting away until just a handful remained. Donna pulled up a chair next to him, a drink in her hand too. Richard remained dry— their designated driver, ready to take the controls of the helicopter in a hurry if they needed him to. And although it was looking increasingly likely they were going to be spending the night here, he wasn’t taking any chances.

Caron was still sitting at the back of the classroom with Driver. Harte walked over and sat down next to her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” she replied, before adding, “all things considered. It’s a little stifling in here tonight, don’t you think? Bit too much testosterone for my liking.”

Harte smirked. Good old caustic Caron. Hers was the wine-addled voice of reason. He’d forgotten her uncanny ability to cut through the bullshit and see things for what they were.

“That helicopter guy,” she whispered, “he said they’ve got a girl on this island of theirs that’s pregnant.”

“They have. I met the father.”

“He’s here?”

“Back in Chadwick. They didn’t let him come here. Didn’t want him to risk butting heads with Jas and his mates.”

“Sensible. Shame, though.”

“What’s a shame?”

“The pregnant girl. Having a kid born into all this mess.”

“And that’s half the problem, I think. No one knows if it’ll be born at all. Providing it doesn’t come out coughing up blood, it should be okay … I guess.”

“Suppose. I don’t fancy its chances, though. Poor little thing will probably grow up wild. Doesn’t bear thinking about really.”

“So what are you going to do, Caron? Stay here or leave?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she answered honestly. “There are plenty of aspects which appeal, but you know me. All that hard work and physical graft? I’ll always get my hands dirty when I have to, but I’m no cleaner and I’m certainly not a farmer. My childbearing days are long over, so I’m not a lot of use to anyne anymore. Mind you, that’s how I like it. I just want to retire quietly. All I need is a decent supply of food, a few bottles of wine, and a library. I’m happy just reading and drinking until I drop.”

“I know you too well. You say that, but I think you want more than that.”

“I quite like the look of that helicopter pilot,” she half joked.

“You know what I mean.”

“A little peace and quiet and some booze, that’ll do me nicely, thank you very much.”

“The island sounds peaceful. Mind you, try finding somewhere that isn’t quiet these days.”

“I know. Truth is, I’m really not sure what I want to do yet. I need a good night’s sleep to try and help me decide. I can see plenty of reasons for staying, but I can find as many good reasons to go.”

“Well, I’m going,” Driver said, eavesdropping on their conversation. “I’ll tell you this for nothing, first chance I get I’m buggering off to this island. Always fancied retiring to the country, I did.”

28

Harte hardly slept all night. He’d laid awake on a spare sofa bed in one of the caravans, the trailer next to Jackson’s, where Kieran and Jas slept—along with Ainsworth and Field, who’d both moved in after the “accident”