company, and tried to hoist himself up onto the bridge so that
he could sit next to the scientist.
Reggie was on the opposite side of
the bridge, a few feet away, with his back to us. He stared into the distance.
When he turned round, his face was neutral, as though all the emotion had been
sucked out of him.
“I went to Grey Fume once. We were
trying to buy out a solicitor practice. The owner was a snake, I’ll always
remember him. He promised us one day that we could look over his books. Then
the next day, the filing room had mysteriously flooded and all their papers
were ruined.”
“What was your job?” I said.
“It was boring,” said Reggie. “Take a
guess.”
I looked at his face. So long after
the outbreak, it was impossible to tell what people used to do. In the old days,
people worked their jobs so long that they became them. Postman had broad
shoulders and muscled calves. Office workers had slouched shoulders and weary
looks. You were your job. Now, I couldn’t tell what people were.
“I bet you were in insurance,” I
said.
“He looks more like an accountant,”
said Lou.
Reggie gave a smile, but there was no
humour in it.
“Thanks, guys. The most boring jobs ever.
That’s how you see me, is it?”
“Well it’s kind of hard to tell,” I
said. “Hell, you could have been a boxer for all I know.”
Reggie coughed. “I worked for a
merger company. We were vultures, really. We looked for businesses that were on
the edge of failing. You know, those little family run businesses where they
spend decades just staying afloat. Well, we looked for the ones who were
falling apart, and we stepped in and bought them for a fraction of what they
were worth. We used to take decades of good, honest work and pay them pennies
for it.”
“We all did that we had to do, back
then,” I said.
Gregor, at the edge of the group,
stretched his muscled arms into the air. He wore his guitar on his back, and
the instrument swung as he moved. The rest of us had packed useful provisions;
food, weapons, water. Gregor had deemed his guitar as the only necessary item.
“Not much has changed then, lad, has
it?” he said. “You did what you had to do then, and you do it now. Only now it
actually matters. Everything you do make a difference, because it’s keeping you
breathing. Just knowing that should make you feel alive. Me, I’ve never felt
better.”
I stood away from the wall.
“We need a plan. I’m not comfortable
with this route. I know we’re heading to the helicopter, but the line we’re
taking is bringing us nearer to the towns than I want to be.”
“Well, there is one way,” said
Charlie.
“Time for clinical science 101,” said
Lou.
Charlie grinned. “At least you got my
field right this time. But this has nothing to do with it. This is geography.
Or cartography. Whatever you like to call it. I know a route we can take.”
“Go on,” I said.
“How’s your history?” said Charlie.
Lou shook her head. “I thought Kyle
was the only boring teacher around here. You’re even worse.”
“Let the lad speak,” said Gregor.
Charlie gave him a stern look. “I’m
not a lad.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“Anyway,” said Charlie. “There’s a
diversion that avoids the towns. About a mile away from here, the allies dug a
tunnel system under the fields. You see, this entire area was a hotspot for
Scottish World War Two commanders, and one of their control centres was based
nearby. They dug tunnels into the fields so that the Axis couldn’t spot them in
air raids. It will let us skip the towns, but it’s not exactly safe.”
“As long as nobody is claustrophobic,
we’ll be fine,” said Mel.
Lou looked at the ground, but didn’t
say anything. She clenched her jaw.
“It’s not phobias that are the
problem,” said Charlie. “The tunnels won’t have been
he could sit next to the scientist.
Reggie was on the opposite side of
the bridge, a few feet away, with his back to us. He stared into the distance.
When he turned round, his face was neutral, as though all the emotion had been
sucked out of him.
“I went to Grey Fume once. We were
trying to buy out a solicitor practice. The owner was a snake, I’ll always
remember him. He promised us one day that we could look over his books. Then
the next day, the filing room had mysteriously flooded and all their papers
were ruined.”
“What was your job?” I said.
“It was boring,” said Reggie. “Take a
guess.”
I looked at his face. So long after
the outbreak, it was impossible to tell what people used to do. In the old days,
people worked their jobs so long that they became them. Postman had broad
shoulders and muscled calves. Office workers had slouched shoulders and weary
looks. You were your job. Now, I couldn’t tell what people were.
“I bet you were in insurance,” I
said.
“He looks more like an accountant,”
said Lou.
Reggie gave a smile, but there was no
humour in it.
“Thanks, guys. The most boring jobs ever.
That’s how you see me, is it?”
“Well it’s kind of hard to tell,” I
said. “Hell, you could have been a boxer for all I know.”
Reggie coughed. “I worked for a
merger company. We were vultures, really. We looked for businesses that were on
the edge of failing. You know, those little family run businesses where they
spend decades just staying afloat. Well, we looked for the ones who were
falling apart, and we stepped in and bought them for a fraction of what they
were worth. We used to take decades of good, honest work and pay them pennies
for it.”
“We all did that we had to do, back
then,” I said.
Gregor, at the edge of the group,
stretched his muscled arms into the air. He wore his guitar on his back, and
the instrument swung as he moved. The rest of us had packed useful provisions;
food, weapons, water. Gregor had deemed his guitar as the only necessary item.
“Not much has changed then, lad, has
it?” he said. “You did what you had to do then, and you do it now. Only now it
actually matters. Everything you do make a difference, because it’s keeping you
breathing. Just knowing that should make you feel alive. Me, I’ve never felt
better.”
I stood away from the wall.
“We need a plan. I’m not comfortable
with this route. I know we’re heading to the helicopter, but the line we’re
taking is bringing us nearer to the towns than I want to be.”
“Well, there is one way,” said
Charlie.
“Time for clinical science 101,” said
Lou.
Charlie grinned. “At least you got my
field right this time. But this has nothing to do with it. This is geography.
Or cartography. Whatever you like to call it. I know a route we can take.”
“Go on,” I said.
“How’s your history?” said Charlie.
Lou shook her head. “I thought Kyle
was the only boring teacher around here. You’re even worse.”
“Let the lad speak,” said Gregor.
Charlie gave him a stern look. “I’m
not a lad.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“Anyway,” said Charlie. “There’s a
diversion that avoids the towns. About a mile away from here, the allies dug a
tunnel system under the fields. You see, this entire area was a hotspot for
Scottish World War Two commanders, and one of their control centres was based
nearby. They dug tunnels into the fields so that the Axis couldn’t spot them in
air raids. It will let us skip the towns, but it’s not exactly safe.”
“As long as nobody is claustrophobic,
we’ll be fine,” said Mel.
Lou looked at the ground, but didn’t
say anything. She clenched her jaw.
“It’s not phobias that are the
problem,” said Charlie. “The tunnels won’t have been
Similar Books
