Surviving The Evacuation (Book 8): Anglesey by Frank Tayell Page B

could do.”
    “I think it’s because everyone isn’t like this that they want us to move here,” he said.
    “And what do you think?” I asked.
    “You know where I’m going, but I think it’d be good for you. Good for Kim and Annette, and definitely good for Daisy. You need to be surrounded by others. It’s not just safety, but sanity as well. If Annette had had someone outside our immediate family to talk with, she might not have imploded so spectacularly.”
    “And even if she had, the journal wouldn’t have been so widely distributed,” I added, though I was increasingly of the opinion that Annette’s actions had been for the best. Certainly, among the residents of Menai Bridge, there was no ill-will directed towards Sholto and I for our unwitting association with the conspiracy.
    Heather Jones was waiting by a hundred-foot schooner with twin masts that seemed at least that tall. The red paint around the stern was so fresh that it still glistened, though the name needed touching up.
    “What does it mean?” I asked as I waved a greeting to her.
    “ Hedd ? It’s Welsh for tranquillity,” Jones said. “But we’re not taking her.”
    “Hey, Bill, Sholto,” Gwen said, appearing from inside the boat’s long cabin. “I’m taking her to Blackpool, Lancaster, and maybe Barrow-in-Furness if it’s safe enough.”
    “Why?” I asked.
    Gwen reached down and picked up a small box. “Geiger counter,” she said. “We need to check the radiation levels. There’s too many things we can only get from a large city, and there’s no way you can call Bangor that.”
    “Wait a day,” Sholto said. “You can take a sat-phone and stay in contact with us.”
    “George said the same thing,” Gwen said. “And I thought about it, but what would be the point? Most of my time will be on the boat. I’ll only go ashore if it’s safe, and when I’m inland, if I’m surrounded, how would you rescue me? Don’t say you’d come in with guns blazing because there aren’t enough of us for that. Not enough boats, either. No, we’ll manage. We’ve done this before. Oh, Bill, George asked me to bring you that.”
    She gestured at a bench that faced the sea. Leaning against it was a long pole. On second glance, I realised it was a pike. Not an ancient one, nor a replica, but a modern take on the old weapon. The axe was broad, with seven perfectly drilled holes an inch apart following the curve of the machine-sharpened blade. The spike was nearly a foot long and broad at the base. The style reminded me of the Assegai George wore at his waist. Foam padding had been wrapped around the coffee-cream wood. I’d have to remove it. That material would soak up the undead gore. A few strips of easily discarded cloth would be far more practical.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “Thank George,” Gwen said. “He said it was either an apology, a thank-you, or a welcome, and he wasn’t quite sure which. I think he was really looking for an excuse to try out the lathe. Now I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you in a few days.”
    “Safe journey and safe return,” Jones said, and then turned to us. “We’re taking the rowing boats.” She gestured up the coast to where a group of eleven were talking quietly, sipping at mugs. We’d been introduced to them the previous night, but there had been such a whirlwind of names, I could only remember those of the three I’d met before. Lorraine waved. Simon raised a hand to his forehead in an un-martial salute. Lilith gave a nod with the edge of a smile to it. Will, not going with us due to his bandaged leg, sat on a bench a little further down the quay, brooding.
    “That’s a large group just for some phones,” Sholto said, as we walked over to meet them.
    “It would be if we were all going into the city,” Jones said, “ and if we were only interested in your phones. I’ve grander plans than that. Four hundred metres across the strait is the mainland. Do you see the houses? We’ve