Surviving The Evacuation: Harvest Part 2

"And Ill make sure Stewart goes back to the kitchens," Reece cut in.

Nilda nodded, her rage finally mollified. "Thank you," she said.

"And is Mrs McInery going with you to the airport?" Stewart asked.

Nilda turned around. McInery was walking through the open door.

"I said wed use the drone so she could see what London Bridge was like," Nilda said.

"Thats my drone," Jay said. "Dev, Stewart, and Tuck got it for me for my birthday. You should have asked."

Tucks hands moved as she signed. Jay smiled.

"What did she say?" Nilda asked.

"She says we need to get better at communicating," Jay said. "She was being ironic."

Part 1: Life in London 17th September "Keep it steady," McInery said.

"Its my drone," Jay muttered. "Ill fly it how I like."

Nilda smiled. It was good to be back with her son. She felt whole again, not as if a veil had been lifted, but as if there was a thin tear through which she could discern the vague hint of a future. Hed grown in the months theyd been apart, and not just physically. That self-a.s.sured confidence his father had possessed radiated from him. Most of the time. Sometimes, like now, there were flashes of the boy lurking under the newly matured surface.

"You can see the bridge, Mac," Chester said. He pointed at the screen. "And I reckon thats the deepest gap. Look at that surf. It cant be more than a couple of inches of water. Theres no way we can get the lifeboat through that."

Fogerty, Reece, and Stewart had pushed the cart with its cargo of newly collected water back into the Tower, and the gate was once again sealed. Jay sat on the embankment wall, the computer they used to pilot the drone on his lap. The 'copter itself hovered half a mile to the west over the ruins of London Bridge. Cl.u.s.tered behind him, McInery, Nilda, Tuck, and Chester stared at the screen which showed an image of the wrecked bridge in far more detail than they could see with the naked eye.

"Yes. Yes, fine," McInery said. "I agree. We cant get the lifeboat through." Nilda relaxed. "But," McInery went on, "I think we can get a boat through. Didnt that old warder say he went upriver?"

"He did," Chester said, "but that was at high tide and at the beginning of the outbreak. Look at all that wreckage. Jay, can you bring it back out a bit? Now turn it left about thirty degrees. No, your other left. There, see, theres metal and bits of boats and plastic, and I dont know what that is-"

"Its an advertising h.o.a.rding," Nilda said. "For one of the airlines. They had the same poster at the supermarket in Penrith. I had to look at that womans smiling face on my way in to work for six months. You cant believe how genuinely happy I was when I saw them putting up a new poster at the beginning of a s.h.i.+ft. And you can only imagine how thoroughly depressed I was when I was on my way home and saw theyd just replaced the faded one with a newer copy. People in Penrith must really have liked flying to Canada." She sighed. "But Chesters right. That thing of Fogertys is more like a collection of holes on a wooden frame than a boat. Its more likely to sink than float, but by all means, try it if you want."

Nilda immediately regretted her words. Not out of fear for who McInery used to be, but because the other woman was the type to take a comment like that as a challenge.

"Theres the other bridges to think about, too," Jay said, trying to play peacemaker amidst the sudden tense silence. "They might be worse than this. I wonder why they did it. Was it deliberate?" He looked to his mother for an answer. Nilda shrugged and turned to Chester.

"Ive no idea," he said. "Im not even sure who 'they were. Russians. Chinese. It could have been Quigley."

"I suppose it doesnt matter," Jay said as he circled the drone around the debris and then flew it up until it was hovering twenty metres above the bridge. Most of the middle section had been demolished. All that remained connecting the north and south banks was a narrow strip of concrete, on which, with its front wheels teetering over the edge of the broken roadway, was a lorry. Jay flew the drone towards it.

"What do you thinks in the back of that lorry?" McInery asked.

Following the soft purr of the drones rotors, a small pack of the undead rammed into the vehicle. It moved forward a fraction of an inch, and the rear wheels lifted from the roadbed. The lorry seesawed back and forth. Nilda held her breath, expecting it to topple and add its bulk to the flotsam and half-sunk wreckage around the bridge. It didnt. It fell back onto its rear wheels, and though the undead knocked and pushed into it as they stretched their pawing hands up to the 'copter overhead, the lorry didnt fall.

"Whatever it is," Chester said, "it must be heavy."

"Maybe its something valuable," Jay said.

"More valuable than the Crown Jewels?" Chester asked.

"I mean properly valuable. Like canned food or candles."

"Yeah, maybe," Chester agreed. "But Ive seen that movie. If you try and empty the contents, the vehicles centre of gravity s.h.i.+fts, and people and cargo all fall down into the river. Whatevers inside, were never going to know."

"And since we cant get this boat past the bridge," Nilda added, "can we agree that were not going to get to Westminster today?" She kept her eyes fixed on the screen as she asked the question. McInery was the only person who really wanted to make that particular trip. Everyone else was curious as to what they might find there, but curiosity alone wasnt enough reason to risk the journey. McInery had vocally dangled the prospect that when the last of the government forces had been overrun, the weapons and ammunition theyd brought with them would have been left behind. Almost as an afterthought shed suggested that there would be other supplies as well.

And there might be, Nilda thought. The Tower of London had weapons. Plenty of them axes, maces, and morning-stars, halberds, bills, partisans, and spears, hangers, sabres, and giant great-swords that not even Chester could lift. Not to mention muskets, rifles, and diamond-encrusted submachine guns presented by dictators deposed long before the outbreak. Fogerty had explained that the more modern weapons had all been deactivated. And after the bejewelled handguns and gold-plated rifles had been admired, Tuck had pointed out that the only ammunition in the Tower were the few rounds for Chesters revolver. Hed flatly stated that he wasnt going to hand those over to anyone. That an echoing shot would bring the undead from a mile around to the Tower was a secondary problem that theyd not even discussed.

Nilda didnt think McInery really wanted guns and ammo. She was just using those two obvious and understandable items as a way of gaining public support for her plan. Why she did want to go to Westminster, Nilda couldnt work out. According to Tuck, McInery had changed since Nilda arrived with news of the community on Anglesey. According to Chester, she seemed exactly as hed known her of old, obsessed with the pursuit of power though not with the prize.

"We would probably find a Geiger counter there," McInery said, clearly not having given up yet.

"But where exactly?" Nilda asked. "Were running against the clock. In a few weeks, well have eaten the food we have, and any thats in the fields or on the trees will have begun to rot. We cant afford any wasted days."

"Theres Anglesey," McInery said. "You said they had more grain than they could possibly eat."

"But youd be asking them for supplies for fifty people for a year," Chester said. "Fuel was a problem when we left. They may decide that its more economical to evacuate-" He stopped as Nilda tutted. "Sorry," Chester said, "that was a bad choice of word. They may decide to s.h.i.+p everyone from here to the island. Besides, if they were right and the radiation was spreading, Id rather not start a trek through England and Wales if everything west of Dartford is radioactive."

"Wont he be able to tell?" Jay asked, and Nilda noticed that his hands moved as he spoke, and he was looking at Tuck for an answer. Nilda quelled an unfair swell of jealousy as the soldiers signed a reply. It wasnt Tucks fault. She truly had kept Jay safe over the past months. Even so, it was hard to suppress bitterness at how her son had grown up beyond all expectations under the tutelage of someone else.

"She says," Jay summarised, "that the fields wont be glowing in the dark, so we wouldnt know until its too late."

"Which is why we need the Geiger counter," Nilda said.

"What we need," McInery said, "is a smaller boat. If we had one, I could lead a group to search Westminster while you take the lifeboat down to Kent. Are you sure that all the small boats were removed from HMS Belfast?"

Nildas eyes moved to the old World War Two museum s.h.i.+p moored on the other side of the Thames.

"You can look at the recording again if you want," Jay said. "But we couldnt see one, just the undead. I counted seven, and who knows how many more are below decks. What we really need is food. And for that we need to go to Kent. That means we need a Geiger counter. And that means going to City Airport."

"We need time," Tuck signed. "Theres too much to do and too few people to do it."

"Right, well," Chester said after Jay had finished translating. "Call it need or want, but whichever it is, theres little point sitting around here. We cant get to Westminster, but we can get to the airport. So I say we go there now while the tide is in our favour. Agreed?"

Nilda took one last look at the screen showing the undead cl.u.s.tered around the lorry on the bridge. One at the edge of the pack waved its arms, and the motion caused it to stumble out into the roadway. It tripped, fell through the broken bal.u.s.trade, and tumbled head first onto a jagged outcrop of half-submerged concrete. Skin split, skull broke, and the stone was tinged dark brown for a moment before a wave washed away both creature and stain. Nilda made a mental note to remind everyone why they spent so much time boiling and filtering the water.

"Look at the battery," Nilda said, pointing at a small window near the top of the screen. "Its running low. You better bring it back."

Jay tapped at the controls. As the drone slowly rotated, the screen displayed a panorama of south London. There was the Shard, and seven miles to the south, the Crystal Palace transmitter sitting on top of Sydenham Hill. That was replaced with empty streets and ruined buildings, then with the Thames, and then Tower Bridge and the Tower of London itself. The image of the ancient fortress grew as Jay piloted the drone back towards them.

"If we could get a boat close enough," McInery said, "we could survey Westminster with the drone."

"If. But we still need that smaller boat," Chester said.

"Indeed. And the solution to that problem will not be found at an airport. You wont need my help for that trip, but helping to secure that gift shop is a task for which I know I can be of use. I can see Graham on the ramparts, excuse me."

Nilda kept quiet as McInery left the boat and headed over to the walls.

"And theres nothing stopping us from leaving," Chester said. Nilda followed him down the steps to the lifeboat.

"Do you think Mrs McInery might try to get to Westminster on foot?" Jay asked, as with drone in one hand, laptop in the other, he nimbly jumped from the wall down onto the rocking boat.

"Maybe," Nilda said. "We cant stop her if she does."

Tuck untied the ropes, and the lifeboat drifted out into the river.

"Shes right about the boats," Chester said. "If theres going to be a long-term plan to use the river to get supplies then we need one that we can row. Are we clear on all sides? Right, Im going to turn the engine on for a bit."

"What about the diesel?" Jay asked. "We dont want to waste it."

"What else are we going to use it for?" he replied. "Theres not enough to get us to Anglesey by boat and more than enough to get us there by land." The engine began to thrum. Chester tilted his head to one side.

"Is there a problem?" Jay asked.

"Doesnt sound quite right. Ah, it doesnt matter. Ladies and gentleman, please settle in for Chester Carsons river tour of apocalyptic London. Next stop, City Airport."

Nilda watched the river. It was better than looking at the skyline now missing so many familiar landmarks and full of so many more unfamiliar ones. When theyd left London, Jay had been a toddler and shed been young and foolish enough to think a world of possibilities still lay at her feet. Her memories of that thriving city had been of noise. Though humanity had now all but disappeared, that had barely changed. Under the early autumn sun, metal creaked, soil cracked, and bricks and gla.s.s fell from burned out buildings. Leaves mingled with the detritus discarded during the evacuation, blown by gentle winds into great drifts around broken walls and abandoned vehicles. The river itself offered a cacophonous symphony of wood and plastic, cloth and flesh, thrown by each swell against the embankment wall. But when the lifeboats small engine sputtered to life, it seemed loud enough to echo all the way to France and beyond.

"And what if the airport has been destroyed?" Jay asked.

"I came down this way about, oh, it must have been about five days after New York," Chester said. "And aircraft were still landing."

Tuck caught Jays attention and began signing.

"She says that after the island was cut off, planes were still coming in," Jay said. "They were carrying amba.s.sadors and staff from overseas, soldiers and foreign leaders, and anyone else who was lucky enough to catch the flight. Then a plane came in from the United States. A colonel was flying it. His family were on board. So were troops from his regiment and their families. But some of the people were infected. When the plane landed, they killed everyone. They used..." Jay paused, and there was an animated, silent back and forth between him and the soldier. "Chemical weapons. Tuck doesnt know where the government got them. Britain wasnt meant to have any. After that, they tried to shoot down all approaching aircraft. But they couldnt get them all."

"Why not?" Nilda asked.

"Because a fighter plane only has so many missiles," Tuck signed.

"How do you know this?" Nilda asked.

"I heard about it whilst I was still in the enclave," Tuck signed. "Actually, it was part of the reason I left. There was a conversation between the deputy director of MI5 and an a.s.sistant to the Air Chief Marshal, not that theyd been in those posts the week before. They didnt mind talking around a deaf girl. They thought that because I couldnt hear, I couldnt understand."

"And what were you doing besides spying on them?" Chester asked.

"I was trying to find out where in the world might be safer than Britain," Tuck signed. "Some other island or..." She shrugged. "Anywhere that the people in charge in the morning were the same as the ones running the place the evening before. I could tell it was all going to fall apart. And it did."

Gloom descended with Jays translation of those last few words, but he broke it with a question of his own. "You said the planes crashed? But they didnt try and move them?"

"City Airports built on a pontoon out into the middle of an old dock," Chester said. "Its surrounded by water. Theres nowhere to move them to."

"Right, yes," Jay said, impatient. "So the planes will still be there?"

"Yes, why?" Chester asked.

"Because I think McInerys right," Jay said. "If were going to make the Tower work, we need small boats, lots of them, and I think well find those boats at the airport."

"Well," Chester mused, "I suppose there might be one or two left in the marina that surrounded the runway, but I doubt it. The story everywhere, and not just in the UK, but from all those people who made it to Anglesey, they all said that anything that could float was taken out to sea regardless of whether the engines worked or anyone on board knew how to furl a sail. Id say our best bet for finding a s.h.i.+p would be in the Maritime Museum at Greenwich. I think they had a couple of whaling boats there. Wooden, of course, and a bit bigger than this craft, with a single sail, and which could be rowed by a crew of four. Or was it six? Actually, thinking about it, Im not sure that was in Greenwich."

"Nah," Jay said with a grin. "We dont want a museum relic thatll dissolve if it comes in contact with water. We want something modern, something that wont rip or tear, and which doesnt need diesel. Well find it at the airport."

"How can you be so sure?" Nilda asked.

"There was a movie where a plane crashed onto the water and the pa.s.sengers all-"

"Life rafts!" Nilda exclaimed. "Cruise s.h.i.+ps have lifeboats. Planes have life rafts. If the airport is full of crashed planes, then its also full of rafts. Weve just got to pull them out."

"Thats actually a good idea," Chester said. "For going up and down the river theyll be c.u.mbersome, but for getting over the jagged masonry around the bridges, theyll be perfect. That materials got to be rip proof."

"It is?" Nilda asked.

"Well, Im only guessing-"

"Tuck says it is," Jay cut in. "And there might be food, too, you know. Peanuts and stuff."

"Thats what you think is it?" Chester asked the soldier.

"No, its what I think," Jay said. "But its worth looking."

"Whats that?" Jay asked, pointing ahead of the boat.

"The Thames Barrier," Chester said wearily. Hed started out as a cheerful tour guide, but Jay had been interrogating him incessantly as they travelled down the river. The mans tone was now one of resigned exasperation. Tuck met Nildas eyes, nodded at Jay, and rolled her own. Nilda took that to mean the soldier was grateful that Jays barrage of questions was finally being directed at someone else.

"Okay. So what is it?" Jay asked.

"It was designed to stop London from flooding. But the barriers down, so the city, or parts of it, will flood," Chester said.

"You mean like the Tower?"

"I doubt it. They started building that fortress nearly a thousand years ago, so I think its safe enough. But London used to be full of rivers, little tributaries that all fed the Thames. Those rivers became ca.n.a.ls or sewers. The land around and above them became houses and offices. The river will a find a new course, bas.e.m.e.nts will flood, buildings will collapse, and roads will be washed away. Soon, each time we come along the river, the skyline will be changed. The airports over there, on your left," he added.

"Where? I cant see it," Jay said.

"No, theres a housing estate between us and it."

"And whats that?" Jay asked. Nilda had to smile.

"What?" Chester asked.

"Those chimneys." Jay pointed.

"The Tate and Lyle sugar factory," Chester said.

"They made sugar? Really?" Curiosity was now replaced by excitement. "Shouldnt we check it out?"

"They didnt make sugar, they refined it," Nilda said. "Without the boats coming in, therell be no canes to process. Any that was stored there would have been used up during the rationing. Look at those tower blocks near the factory. Think of all the people who lived there, and then remember how hungry you were before the evacuation and after. Theyll have broken in, or stormed the place en ma.s.se, taking anything that was left."