Blighted Land: Book two of the Northumbrian Western Series (Northumbrian Westerns 2) (20 page)

A young fella in a checked shirt stepped forward. ‘Where you off to?’

‘Just heading home,’ I said all surprised.

‘Where’s home?’

I pointed ahead. There was no use making up a street name and I couldn’t remember the one we’d parked on.

‘Sussex Drive,’ said Casper.

The lad twisted his mouth up. ‘No one lives there.’

‘We do.’

‘The whole place is dropping apart.’

‘That’s where we live.’

From the across the derelict land more lads appeared and walked into the middle of the road. That was our exit blocked.

For a few seconds we stood there with the gang looking at us.
 

Then the lad grabbed Casper. He gripped his shirt and pulled it tight. ‘You’re the two from the pub.’

There were mutters from the others. Some picked up bricks and stones from the waste ground. Now we were stuck.
 

‘Call Noah,’ said a voice.

There was a cheer.

The fella tugged at Casper’s shirt. ‘We don’t like trouble makers.’
 

Casper opened and closed his mouth saying nothing. There were too many of them to take on and they were winding up. They crowded round us.
 

‘We’re just on our way home,’ said Casper. It was feeble but it cooled them down a little.

Then they all looked along the road. I expected to see Noah and a lynching mob but instead it was a vehicle.

With a rumble the Eblis thundered towards us. A voice boomed from the tank, electronic and amplified but clearly Becky’s. ‘Step away,’ she said.

The lads didn’t move.
 

‘Step away. All of you.’

They still didn’t shift.
 

Then the tank’s gun fired, bullets thudding into the ground near them.

‘Step back,’ she said.

Apart from the man holding Casper they moved away. After a moment he too let go and stepped aside. The Eblis stopped before us. The turret popped open and Casper ran over to it. He wasted no time, jumping up, sliding in. The men glared at me as I followed but no one said a thing. My bike was strapped to the back and the tank’s panels were all closed, hopefully with the engine fixed. As I slid into the turret I saw more men coming up the road to join the gang. Maybe one of them was Noah but I didn’t hang around to see.

I eased myself through the narrow entrance and dropped down inside, closing the hatch behind me.

Inside it smelled of oil, stale air and some kind of chemical. There were no window just lights, cold electric light that left few shadows. Becky was at the front with monitor screens and levers, presumably the driver’s position, where I'd expected Casper to sit. He was at the front of the turret and waved me into a seat at the back. He handed me some headphones, heavy things, not like the ones I’d had as a kid. He had a set for himself and Becky already wore a pair. He plugged them into a socket near him. There was one beside me so I pushed my connector in and a monitor lit beside me. Becky pulled one lever and pushed the other and there was a whirring from behind. The tank pivoted round in the road. It swung through 180 degrees and the scene on the monitor blurred for second, then settled onto an empty road. There were thumps as objects hit the hull, as the crowd regained their courage.
 

Casper opened a rear compartment and slid out a shell, a massive round of ammunition. He unlocked the breech on the gun and loaded it, pushed up a lever. Then the turret turned with a slow whine, so that it faced backwards. On the monitors I saw the mob behind us, waving planks of wood and holding bricks and stones. One man leant back, flicked his arm and a rock sailed through the air and bounced off the tank’s flank.

Casper raised a cover on a button and pressed it. There was a roar and the Eblis rocked back on its suspension. The screens were dark with smoke. When it cleared the mob were all crouching down. A building behind them was filled with smoke and bricks rained down into its shattered interior. Beside it was a pile of rubble.

Becky hauled on the controls and we moved off and headed out of the town. Her voice crackled over the headphones again. ‘Thought we’d lost you, Trent.’

‘Seems not.’

‘You okay about your bike being tied onto the tank? We were careful strapping it on.’

‘That’s fine.’ It suited me for now, seeing as I was low on juice. ‘Is the Eblis fixed?’

‘Hope so.’

I glanced up at Casper who was watching me, his lips tight. It was only when I kept his gaze he eventually looked away.

We drove out of the town, past the drunks and partiers. By the derelict houses. We turned off to the left at a roundabout, before the spot we’d been attacked, and joined the old by-pass, heading north.

‘So where did you get to?’ Becky said.

‘I got lost,’ I said. I wasn’t going to let on that I’d planned to stay. Hang out with Maddy in Pleasure Town. It hadn’t worked out and maybe it had always been a crazy idea. Now we were back on the road.
 

And that felt fine.

T
HE
E
BLIS
RUMBLED
ALONG
the empty road. We were surrounded by open moorland with patches of trees, the Border Forest now thinned to occasional copses. Along the roadside there was the odd vehicle, picked so clean it was hard to recognise as a car.
 

I’d traded up here before but not much further north. Not as far as Becky and Casper were planning to go. To Arcadia or whatever the place was called. I’d be off before then. As soon as I had some juice.

It was difficult to imagine what they described existing, this ideal town. Decent people who welcomed strangers.
 

The only place that sounded similar was Shangri-La. Gary’s community of peace and tranquillity. Set in woodland in north-east Northumberland with orchards and gardens of soft fruit. Chickens and sheep. Not that they even ate any of the animals. It was like some kind of oasis. A bubble of ideals in an idealess world.

But that was Gary.

In all the time I’d know him he’d never even lost his temper. Not really. There had been one occasion where he’d got annoyed. The time I’d turned up to buy some home-grown.
 

I’d been in the Lotus then, that great car I’d once had.
 

I’d driven up past the prayer-flags and wind chimes. Parked in the courtyard with whitewashed buildings. He came out all friendly, dressed in the usual home-knitted thing but he started hopping around when I said I wanted to buy some grass, his big bearded face all creased up.
 

‘I don’t deal!’ he said, ‘It’s not that kind of place!’

‘All right, Gary. Sorry.’

He walked off shaking his head and I followed him, right the way through the building with its batiks and cushions, all the way to the greenhouses. They grew grapes, peppers and cucumbers alongside a few dope plants. Delicate stuff that needed the warmth. The glass was reclaimed from old shops and offices. Abandoned buildings in towns. It had taken him years to get all together but Shangri-La was his long-term project.

‘Here,’ he said, thrusting a bag of dried grass at me. ‘Have it. I don’t deal but I’m happy to give. To friends.’

So I took it and rolled up, staying around in the evening for one of his impromptu music sessions. There were tables with containers of fruit wine. Cider and pickled walnuts. Several young men and women drummed and danced. Laughed and sang. I smoked and joined in until I was too worn out to move.
 

Yeah, Gary had good parties.
 

The next day I’d driven off, through the woods with the scent of wild flowers and chimes ringing in the breeze.
 

I loved Shangri-La but didn’t really fit it. It was a place for me to visit. No more than that.

Maybe this Arcadia was going to be the same.

Now we’d got away from Faeston, left Round Up, there was nothing holding me to anywhere, anyone. There was no need for me to go all the way into the Highlands.

Becky swung the Eblis round, dropping the speed, half of what we’d been doing. We turned off the track, heading cross-country. The tank crawled across the rough ground. It pitched and bounced.

‘What’s up?’ I said.

‘Trying to break the route up. Make us harder to track,’ she said.

‘You think Round Up are still after us?’

‘There’s a chance.’

There was a chance but it was getting fairly slim. We’d not seen a sign of them. Even if any of them had survived there was a lot of ground to cover.

If they’d survived.
 

We were safe enough in the Eblis. It was well armoured and had plenty of firepower.
 

The engines droned and I rocked from side to side. Side to side. After the adrenalin buzz of being chased I was settling down. I closed my eyes.
 

Then I was being shaken. Casper had hold of me.

Although the Eblis was moving it had slowed right down. Becky pressed buttons and tapped one of the dials.
 

‘What’s now?’ I said.

‘We need to stop,’ she said. ‘We’re overheating,’
 

‘I thought it was fixed?’

‘Seems not,’ said Casper.

‘It’s been creeping up again.’ Becky hauled on the levers and the vehicle stopped. It settled down on its suspension. There were whirrs and clicks from behind me. Swooshing sounds and buzzing.

Casper opened the hatch and climbed out. As Becky flicked switches and took readings I followed Casper. We were on moorland that rolled off in all directions. There were a couple of stunted pines nearby but these were the only trees to be seen. To the far south there were low hills. All other directions looked the same: gorse, heather and rough grass, laid out below creamy grey clouds. There was no one. No sound.
 

Becky came out and went straight to the rear of the vehicle. Casper joined her. They grabbed hold of the bike. Undid the straps and started to manhandle it off the back off the vehicle. I went and helped, making sure Casper didn’t trash it in his haste to help Becky. We lowered the bike down and Casper jumped back up to the turret, leaning in. There were clicks from several servos under the rear bulkhead and Becky pulled at the handles on the hatches. She lifted up the largest panel and the smell of burning plastic came out.
 

While she ferreted around I checked over the Scrambler. There was a dent on its tank from where a something had hit it, probably thrown by one of the mob in town. Several stones had jammed between spokes and there was a piece of wood wedged in the cooling fins. I picked them all out and bounced the bike on its forks. Set it on its side-stand.

Becky was still poking around under the hatch. Casper stood at her side but didn’t do anything.

After a while she straightened up, holding a blackened wire with a lump of melted plastic at the end. ‘Guess my patch-up didn’t hold.’

‘Can you fix it?’ I said.

‘We need parts. The right parts.’ She stared at Casper, like the was something they knew but didn’t want to tell me.

‘Go on,’ I said.

Becky looked down at the busted part. ’We’ll have to go to The Graveyard.’

For a moment none of us spoke.
 

Of course I knew of The Graveyard, everyone who worked the borders did, but I’d never been tempted to go there. It had once been a military base, full of activity in the last century and up until the twenties. But after the wars they’d used it as a dumping ground, one of many round the country. They’d left equipment there that couldn’t be easily fixed. Once Collapse came the place was abandoned, the weapons were disabled or taken off for reuse, some in central Europe, others God-knows where. But they couldn’t neuter everything and there were stories of a few gems still lying around.
 

There were also rumours about the gangs who hung out nearby, watching the place, using it as a lure to add to their booty. I’d heard enough about what they did to unwanted guests so I’d steered clear in the past. There were safer ways to make a living.

‘Does it have to be The Graveyard?’ I said.

‘We’ll find the right parts there. Proper military stuff.’

We’d have to double back to go to there, clipping the western edge of the Border Forest.
 

‘The Graveyard’s not somewhere just to drop into,’ I said.

‘That’s the only place we’ll find parts.’

‘It’s too dangerous and we’re losing time. We can take it slowly. Not go.’

Becky stared at me. ‘We need the parts.’ She turned to Casper. ‘What do you think?’

‘Let’s get the parts,’ he said.
 

‘I need to take a leak,’ I said.

I went over to one of the nearby pines and pissed against it. Above me dead branches rattled against one another as the piss hissed down the trunk and onto the dry earth.