The Gates: An Apocalyptic Novel (15 page)

Harris chuckled. “Okay, Staffie. Did I tell you
about the time I ejaculated during a conversation with my mum?”

The men laughed just at the premise.

“No, lad. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, well, I was sixteen-seventeen and shagging
this bird called Lisa. We was in my bedroom one Saturday afternoon, and she was
underneath the duvet giving me head—the best I’ve ever had. Anyway, I’m just
about to get there, getting ready to blow me load. My toes are going, and I start
to moan. Lisa starts bopping up and down faster, working my balls with her
hand. Then, boom! The bedroom door opens. Lisa leaps up out of the duvet just
in time, as my dear old mum comes in. She wants to know what I fancy for
dinner. Problem was that I had passed that point of no return. Lisa’s mouth had
done the trick. So here I am, going off like a sprinkler beneath the sheets—having
a giant sodding orgasm—and I have to hold a conversation with my old lady about
chicken bloody Kiev. Lisa is laying next to me trying not to laugh her arse off.
Anyway, the point of the story is that I blew my load while having a
conversation about chicken with my mother. The moral is: always get a lock put
on your fuckin’ door.”

The men bellowed with laughter, and Tony knew he
could leave them alone for a few more hours.

***

They walked until
nightfall, taking water breaks every hour, but even then, they were dry-mouthed
and sweating. Now that night had arrived, they were all grateful to see the
blazing sun recede. The men had shed their combat jackets and now wore only
their webbing over their undervests. Several times, Ellis tried to hail Command
on the radio, but within the cradle of the desert, their calls went unanswered.

Tony glanced around. It wasn’t the kind of desert
that would typically come to mind, with endless dunes of golden sand—only
hard-packed dirt beneath his boots, ranging from dark brown to bright orange.
There was the odd patch of straw-like grass here and there, but no trees and no
shade. Now and then he’d glimpse movement in the distance, but could never tell
if it was animal, man, or mirage. They were alone, wandering through sun-scorched
oblivion.

“We cross river between Al Mayadin and Boqruss Foqani,”
Aymun informed them. “There will be trees and water. Supplies are two miles
past river. There we rest tonight.”

The men muttered contentedly. No sleep in two days
had left them looking grey and unsteady on their feet. They had avoided sunburn
with the use of the cream in their packs, but the heat had sapped all but their
last reserves of strength. Rest was needed, and if Aymun was true to his word,
they would get the chance soon. Or they would be double-crossed and murdered. Both
were appealing after having marched through a desert.

They walked for about another hour before the
hard-packed dirt softened into moist soil and green grass. The river was a half
mile ahead and due east of the town Al Mayadin. Tony could see some of the
taller buildings on the horizon and even caught the faint sound of a car horn.
They had reached civilisation, but heading into the town would be risky. There
was no one overtly friendly to the West in Syria and many who vehemently
opposed it. It would be too much of a lottery trying their luck there. The
British had refused to help the Syrian civilians against the rebels, so why
should the Syrian civilians help the British? No, they would stick to the plan
and keep heading north into Turkey.

Tony spotted the men gazing into the distance at
the town and was quick to distract them. “That’s not safety over there, lads. The
ISN would be on us before we ever got chance to find help.”

The men glared at Aymun.

Tony sighed. “We have an eye on those three and we
outnumber them. If they try anything they’ll regret it.”

The men all nodded defiantly. They were almost
beaten, but they would not go down without a fight. A doomed soldier was a
dangerous soldier, so let Aymun try something if he dared. Not that Tony had
any reason to doubt the ISN leader. So far, Aymun had led them around the
settlements and alerted them whenever traffic appeared on the seldom
encountered roads. Whenever he spoke, he did so in a friendly manner and showed
no sign of contempt. Every bone in Tony’s body told him not to trust the man,
but somehow he was starting to. He hoped he didn’t end up regretting it.

They made it to the river. The moon was full, making
the water appear as a twinkling silver strip. Tony stooped down on the bank and
cupped water over his neck, giving permission for the men to do the same. They
all lined up and cooled themselves down, drinking until they were full. The
water was clean and fresh-tasting and led Tony to wonder what the Thames would
taste like.

“Should we camp here?” Ellis asked, deferring to
Aymun.

“No, we cross first, find supply cache.”

Ellis needed to show authority, so Tony tried to
help him. “Unless you want to camp here, Lieutenant? It’s your decision.”

Ellis stuttered. “O-of course… erm, no, I think it
would be wise to locate the supply cache first. We can rest after.”

Tony saluted. “Yes, sir.”

Ellis returned the salute. “As you were, Staff Sergeant.
See if you can find a good spot to cross the river.”

“No need,” said Aymun. “I know place.”

Tony found cause for concern. Was this the part
where Aymun led them into a trap? But it turned out that the Syrian knew of a
raft hidden in the reeds. He and his two men retrieved it from further down the
bank and were quick to explain its origin. “In early days of war,” said Aymun,
“Syrian forces patrol river crossings. Local people make this raft and hide for
ISN.”

Ellis frowned. “The locals helped you? Why?”

Aymun smiled. “Because they believe in ISN, Lieutenant.
You think they side with government? Ha! ISN what they want. We take power and
bring back old ways. Ways that best for Syrian people, not rich men and
politicians. People in Syria, they starve while others take what they have. The
West attack our religion, take our oil, tell us how we must be. ISN say no. We
will not be how they tell us to be. We will be Syrian.”

Ellis was clearly dumbfounded. “But you people are
savages. You behead your enemies, enslave your women, and kill children. Surely
people don’t want that.”

Aymun’s eyes narrowed. “We do what must be done to
take back our country. In war, bad things happen, yes? How many children has
British Army killed? Many, yes? Children die in war. Enemies suffer. Do not judge
a man in war, judge him in peace. Once we have country back, we will feed poor,
help weak, and make peace with neighbours, but not while puppet government
still lives. ISN fight for Syrian people and Syrian way of life.”

Ellis laughed derisively, which led to the Syrians
on either side of Aymun to sneer. Neither Syrian spoke English, but they were
smart enough to know they were being mocked.

Tony stepped in before the accord between the two
groups was shattered. “Aymun, I believe that you believe your actions are just.
We believe the same of our own. Right now we’re friends, and later we may go
back to being enemies, but for now, we must concentrate on what we set out to
do. We need to cross this river and get to that supply cache. Whatever differences
we have will wait for another time. You gave me your word that you would help
us.”

Aymun nodded. “I already tell you, Sergeant, that
we have new enemy now; is stupid to fight you, but your leader is ignorant man.
He stupid man.”

Ellis went red in the face. “How dare you. I am a lieutenant
in the British Army and you are my prisoners.”

Aymun sneered. “We are no prisoner.”

“No, you’re not,” said Tony, glaring at Ellis. “Aymun
is here to help us, sir. We made a deal.”

“They had the chance to leave, but they chose to remain
under my protection. They placed themselves under my command.”

Aymun faced Tony. “You give word you let me and my
men go.”

Tony nodded. “I did.”

Ellis glared. “You did what, Staff Sergeant? On
what authority do you make deals with enemy combatants? These men are my
prisoners, and I decide what happens to them.”

Aymun and his men shifted anxiously, and the
British soldiers did the same in reply. Fingers slid towards triggers as
everybody waited to see what would happen next.

“I have been fair,” said Aymun. “You help me so I help
you, but if we are still enemies, then say so.”

Ellis flapped his arms. “Of course we are still
enemies. You’re members of the blasted ISN. What would my superiors do if I
shook hands with members of an enemy rebel force?”

“Your sergeant wish to shake my hand,” said Aymun.
“He is better man than you. He see. He see what is.”

Ellis frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what is?’”

“I mean we all must be as one to fight new enemy.
Mankind must be an army. You do not understand. You are fool.”

Ellis pointed his finger. “I am no fool.”

Aymun sighed and turned his back. “You are fool. I
leave, fool.”

Ellis pulled out his handgun and pointed it at the
back of Aymun’s head. “You stop right there. You are my prisoner.”

Aymun’s two soldiers raised their AK47s and
pointed them at Ellis. The British army raised their L85s in reply. A standoff
ensued.

Tony threw up both hands and stood between the two
groups. The ISN were out-gunned two to one, but they would take a couple of British
soldiers down with them before they bit the dust. That couldn’t happen.

“Lieutenant Ellis,” Tony shouted, “the only
priority right now is getting the men to safety. There is precedent for working
with the enemy in times of exceptional circumstances, and I believe what
happened at the border more than qualifies as exceptional. Over a dozen of
Aymun’s men are dead. Command will consider our mission a victory, but we will
be needed for the days ahead—all of us. We cannot afford to get involved in another
fire fight. The ISN are considered an illegally occupying force, but we are not
officially engaged in a war with them. Therefore, they are not strictly our
enemies. We can work together peacefully as allies.”

Ellis continued pointing his gun at Aymun, but his
hand trembled. After several seconds, he lowered the weapon and placed it by
his side. Everybody sighed with relief—even Aymun.

“Everybody at ease,” Tony shouted. “Aymun, that
means your men too.”

Aymun nodded and muttered something in Arabic. His
two men lowered their AK47s.

Ellis was shaking his head and staring down at the
ground. “I apologise. This heat… so little water. I am not in my right mind.”

Tony groaned inside. Their only officer was
hinting at his own incompetency and giving mixed messages to his men about whether
they were working with the ISN or not. Things would not go well if Ellis didn’t
get a handle on things and let everybody know where they stood.

To his credit, Aymun did not linger on the
animosity. He smiled at his British colleagues and said, “We must cross river
now, yes? Very tired and all must rest.”

Tony went to pat the man on the back, but worried
about offending him, so he returned the smile and nodded.

They went across the river in three shifts, taking
almost an hour in total. The journey was wobbly, and they all got wet, but the
night had not yet cooled, and they were all glad of the moist chill.

On the other side, they formed up beneath the glowing
moon and got going again. As the temperature descended, they dug into their
packs and retrieved their jackets. It would be freezing within an hour or two.

Fortunately, an hour was all it took for Aymun to
locate his supply cache. They encountered an outcropping of boulders at a place
where the green, fertile river plain changed back to the hard-packed,
featureless dirt of the desert. Aymun led them all up the stony hill and waited
for them at the top. Tony had his rifle raised, ready for an ambush, but once
again, he was glad to find that Aymun had kept his word. It was all there.

The outcropping of boulders was wide and hollow
inside, like an inverted cave with the entrance above rather than besides. It
was large enough for every one of them to climb inside, and they all gasped in
amazement when Aymun lit a gas lamp and placed it at the centre of the room. Stacked
up against the walls were numerous rifles and crates of ammunition. There were
also piles of clothes and tins of food, along with can openers. Several
bedrolls and sheets were bundled up in the corner, and it was pure luxury after
what they had just walked through.

“Take whatever you wish,” said Aymun, “but please
do not touch the Quran. It must not come into contact with ground or be touched
by…”

Tony noticed the pedestal in the corner with the
holy book placed reverently atop it and nodded. “We understand, Aymun. Thank
you.”

Ellis looked around. “This is much appreciated, Aymun.
I wonder, could I… could I trouble you for…”

Tony caught his superior officer just as he was about
to hit the ground. He eased Ellis down onto one of the blankets and propped him
up. “Get some water,” he shouted.

Aymun pulled a bottle of water from the pile of
supplies and hurried over with it. Tony took it and helped Ellis take a swig.
“There you go, sir, drink up.”

“Oh, thank you, Staff Sergeant. I-I’m afraid I
came over rather lightheaded.”

“It has been hard journey for us all,” said Aymun.
“We rest tonight, get strength. Hardest part of trip tomorrow, will take
several days to reach Turkish border.”

Tony looked at Ellis’s grey face and wondered if
he could make the journey. The men needed an officer, but Ellis was weak and
inexperienced, too recently out of Officer’s Training to possess the grit
required to keep going when his muscles begged him to stop. This was still just
an exercise to him; he didn’t understand the stakes.