Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) (15 page)

We continued up the hill, past the town farms and to the barricade. If there were men at the north check point they didn’t hang around. The tank rattled through without any resistance, chewing up the barbed wire.

A mile onto the moors we stopped. Casper appeared out of the hatch. He jumped down, joined by Becky.

‘That was easy enough,’ he said.

‘They’ll soon be after us,’ she said.

‘She’s right,’ I said.

Becky came over and put her hand on the Triumph’s headlamp. ‘We can strap this on. Then you can get in.’

‘I’m fine riding it.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah.’
 

Casper said nothing. He went back to the tank and slid into it. Being stuck in a steel box with him didn’t appeal. Even if she was there as well.

Maybe she got this. Maybe not. Either way she’d didn’t argue. ‘Fine.’ She joined Casper and the hatch thudded shut.
 

I turned towards town. Smoke rose up from the far side, where Round Up Central was. There were bells ringing and the sound of distant engines.

So that was it. I’d left Round Up and the town. Sophie as well. I’d really ensured I’d never be able to return. Getting Casper and the tank had been messy: Tyler getting killed and God knows who else in Round Up Central when Casper fired at it.

But I was only tagging along. It wasn’t like we had to be best buddies or whatever.

Once we were well clear of the place I’d go. It was handy to have the Eblis for the next day or so. While Nico, Gregg and Will were on our tail. We’d be safe enough with all this armour.

But once we were out of Round Up’s range I’d be all right to ride on.
 

There were all kinds of whirrs from the Eblis then it clattered forward and accelerated along the road.
 

The great mass picked up speed and set off away from town.

W
E
TRAVELLED
ON
FOR
another couple of hours, the tank rattling ahead of me. The town and coast disappeared behind us as we passed empty moorland and the occasional farm building. Most were derelict but the odd one had a sign warning of dangerous dogs or owners having guns, or both. It was a hard life out here, risking the neo-reivers and other scavengers. But good food always sold for top money so there was a living to be made.

Up ahead a vehicle appeared, a dot on the horizon. It came towards the Eblis, initially fast then slowing down before turning off into a side road. By the size and speed it moved it was a car, traders more than likely. The side roads round here didn’t go anywhere so it probably ducked off to avoid us. Not a bad move considering what the tank was armed with. And the size of it. It was quite a sight on the open road.

We cracked along at a fair pace, hitting forty on the straights. The bike thudded up through the gears with a nice loud blast from the exhaust. From the tank there was the rumble of its tracks with the occasional squeak from a dry link. Not much of an engine sound. My guess was it had a fuel cell. Either that or some kind of noise suppression system. Something they’d tried on the last few models they’d made. The old-world’s last gasp.

The big questions were when, and where, I headed off.

Once we stopped I’d quiz them about their intended location. This amazing place they were aiming for. I wasn't interested in going there, just the route. Once I had the details I could work out where I when I was planning to take my leave. With the cash I had there'd be opportunities in the right town. I had plenty of options.

As we came to a crossroad the tank swung sharp to the left, onto a B road. Smaller and slower than the one we’d been on. Was this some plan or were they lost? Either way I followed them. The Eblis rocked back and forth on the potholed surface. I steered round the chewed up tarmac and chunks of road.

We bounced along for miles with nothing else on the road. We were onto the low moors, dotted with the odd birch and blackened sections of heather. Where the dried out vegetation had caught light in the summer. We were heading west now rather than north; if this was their route to Scotland it would take forever. Maybe they really were lost. After all, Casper had blundered through town when he’d meant to go round it. But Becky was with him now and she knew what she was doing. Appeared to, at least.

We passed a lorry stripped down in a field. There was only the chassis and a few panels left to rot. A chewed up tyre and some busted glass. The sun was low under the clouds and lit the scrap vehicle a dull gold.
 

Whatever I thought of Casper and Becky, we had made it. We were away from Faeston and Round Up. Away from Sophie. I didn’t want to think about Sophie.
 

We carried on along the track for some time, alongside the parched moors with its stunted trees. As the sun dipped ahead of us onto thick woodland in the distance.
 

Then the Eblis turned right onto another road, a rough track of gravel and dried earth. We twisted past low hummocks and came upon dense woodland, the eastern edge of the Border Forest.
 

This was the right way but it was too small a road to make any headway. Were they planning to stop off? I was keen to push on. Put some miles between us and Nico’s gang. Then again, the light was fading. And we’d be well hidden here.

As the sun disappeared behind the trees we pitched across the rough ground, snaking our way between the rows of conifers, their sparsely leafed branches casting deep shadows. After some minutes the tank slowed and pulled into a large clearing. The ground was covered with dead branches and many of the trees were brown and leafless. Some had fallen or leant uprooted. There was a dark pool over to the far side.
 

The Eblis stopped and I pulled the Scrambler up at its side, killing the engine. There was a pop as it backfired. Then silence. Maybe a trickle from a stream way off. Casper clanged the hatch open and climbed out. As he stood on the bulkhead Becky joined him.
 

I stayed on the bike as they surveyed where we were. On every side there was thick woodland. The track we’d come down disappeared off at an angle so we couldn’t be seen from the road. A crow cawed from the undergrowth then flapped off.
 

I got off the Scrambler and checked it over. There was a slight oil leak from the crankcase. I dipped my finger in the amber drops. Felt the heat. Then I tapped the fuel tank, heard the low ping. I’d need to think about refuelling somewhere. There was a reasonable amount of Faeston bio-eth in there but only enough to get me up to Edinburgh. Nowhere near the Highlands.
 

The Eblis would need some more juice as well, whatever it ran on. Fuel-cells needed fuel.

Becky came over. ‘We made it.’

‘Yep, so far.’
 

‘We’re well hidden here, if anyone’s following us.’

‘If anyone survived.’

‘You bothered?’

‘Not at all. Just keen to get away. Anyway, what’s your plan?’

‘Overnight here. Head off first thing. That work for you?’

‘Fine.’

She moved closer to me. ‘Listen, Trent —’

‘Yeah?’

‘I just…I don’t know…’

We stood there without speaking. As a breeze rattled the branches.

‘I need to go take a leak,’ I said.

‘Oh, okay.’
 

I left her standing by my bike and went over into the trees. The twigs crunched under my feet and light filtered down through the branches. Becky was still by the bike but she went back to the tank after a minute. There was no sign of Casper. I guessed he was sniffing around somewhere.

Afterwards I went over to the pond, cupping my hands in it, rubbing them together. The water was cool and peaty.
 

‘I wouldn’t drink that,’ said Becky.

‘I didn’t plan to.’

She had a bag with her and slid out a pan, putting it to one side. ‘Trent, I appreciate what you did back then, back at Round Up’s building —’

‘It’s fine. I’m pleased to be away.’

‘Well, thanks.’ She gave me a smile then put her hand on my arm. Just held it there. After a moment she moved away and started to gather wood, putting a fire together. Casper was over by the far side of the pond, wandering around, staring at the ground, like he’d lost something.
 

I waited to see if she said anything else. When she didn’t I shouldered my bag and wandered off, round the pond, following the stream that fed it. It led me into the trees, over ground thick with leaf litter. I walked for some time, through tightly packed birch and pines, until I came to a small waterfall that ran into a deep pool. The ground was flat at the sides with sparse tree cover, letting in the evening light. I went over to the water’s edge and sat on a log, peeling bark off until I found some grubs. I picked two of them up and laid them on my leg, feeling around in my bag. I found a hook and line, something I always had with me when I was on the road, and threaded the biggest grub onto it. It squirmed and jerked as I lowered it into the water, easing the line out.
 

I sat there as the woods grew darker and the line hung limp in the water. Birds shifted in the undergrowth and something ran up a tree behind me. The pond was dark, black, rippling with the flow from the waterfall. I could see myself staring out of it, twisted out of shape.
 

I reached into the bag and brought out the Gehenna stuff laying it out beside me. I opened it and tilted it to catch what light there was, going over the line drawing of the submarine, all its decks and sections, tracking it with my finger again and again.
 

I put it back into the bag and watched myself from the water. Becky and Casper were some pair. There was something strange about them but it was hard to pin down. He was cold. Unfriendly. But I’d met plenty of fellas like him. And she ran hot and cold. Chatty then distant. I’d have to keep an eye on them. Still, compared to Nico, Gregg and Will they were lovely.
 

The woods darkened around me.

The line twitched. It pulled again. I lifted it up and there was a small trout on it. The fish flicked its tail and I threw it onto the ground. It gasped and stared up at me as I watched it die. It was tempting to grab it and throw it back into the water, show some mercy. But we needed to eat and this was the main course.
 

I carried it back, limp on the hook. The woods were dark and I picked my way over tree trunks, branches and loose stones, heading towards the tank.
 

When I lost the stream I stopped. It’d be easy to wander off here, carry on into the woods and end up on the wrong side. Alone in the dark. To walk on and on, away from the Eblis, Becky and Casper.

I flicked my lighter on and the trees and ground appeared around me, all looking the same. There was no sign of the stream or anything else that would help. I walked straight ahead for several yards then stopped and turned back. There were trunks that vanished off into the distance, pine needles everywhere.

Then there was a laugh from my right, a low chuckle way off. It had to be Casper. I headed towards the sound as he laughed again.

I emerged close to where I’d come into the trees. Becky and Casper sat by a fire eating. When I joined them she thrust a plate at me with beans and sausages on it.

‘Where did this come from?’ I said.

‘We stashed it some time ago. Ready for this,’ said Casper. Empty tins lay at his feet.
 

I sat down and dug into the food, setting the fish beside me. The beans tasted good. I’d not eaten for hours and hadn’t even realised I was hungry. I shovelled it in.

Once I’d finished I gutted the fish and hung it above the flames. Becky heated water in the pan making dandelion tea. Casper just gazed into the fire, his bruised face a flickering pattern from the flames.

‘Tell me about the place you’re heading to,’ I said.

For a moment Becky and Casper just looked at each other.
 

Then she spoke. ‘It’s called Arcadia.’

‘Arcadia?’

Casper grunted. ‘That’s its name. Place we’re going to.’ He reached into the bag at Becky’s side and pulled out the maps. He jabbed at a patch of blue on the edge of one. ‘Here.’

Becky moved round to let me nearer. It was hard to see much in the firelight.
 

‘Up on the coast,’ she said. ‘On the edges of Loch Fyne.’ As she said it she glanced across at Casper. Something passed between them but it was hard to work out what it was.

‘Right,’ I said.

‘It’s only a couple of hundred miles, maybe a little more. It should take another couple of days depending on what route we take.’

‘Probably go up through the Lowlands,’ said Casper. ‘Head west. Not sure exactly.’ He flapped his hand around the map but didn’t really point to a specific road.

I didn’t like his answer but didn’t want to push it. Not yet.
 

‘We’ll go on back roads,’ she said. ‘We can’t outrun your…we can’t outrun the people from Round Up. I know they have cars, fast ones, but they can’t go cross country. We’ve enough armour to survive anything reivers throw at us but I’d guess Round Up have some serious kit.’