foot, but said nothing.
Scottie answered for them, calling back over his shoulder whilst still staring at the helicopter. “He cannae say. They’ve been told not to speak to us. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Why? We’re on the same side, aren’t we?” said Tommy hopefully.
“Clearly not,” shouted one of the others, frustrated at their refusal to cooperate.
“I’m sure they’re just taking precautions. They dinnae know we’re not sick,” offered Scottie.
“Maybe the States didn’t get the sickness like we did,” said Sarah, one of the teenagers.
Scottie shouted back. “Naw Sarah, I wish that were true. Don’t you remember? It was everywhere. You must remember on the news, before everything went dark? New York, Washington, Chicago, Los Angeles. Every major city experienced outbreaks. Everyone and everywhere. There was nowhere to hide.”
“So why would they come here then if they’re not here to save us? Perhaps we’ve got it all the wrong way round. Maybe it’s them that need our help?” Tommy laughed and those around him joined in.
“That’s a very good question,” repeated Scottie. “Why are they here?”
In the distance, they could hear the low chugging of the Nipper’s engine just before she rounded the headland and hove into view. Tommy ran down to the jetty and waited patiently to catch the bowline from Sam and together they helped tie her up, bow and stern. Jack turned off the ignition, grabbed his bag and stepped ashore. Tommy fell into step beside him. As they walked towards the lighthouse, he brought Jack up to speed on the events thus far and led him to where Terra and the American were waiting inside.
Tommy knocked lightly on the sun-blistered wooden door, its off-white paint peeling and flaking. They heard footsteps inside and the door opened wide. Lieutenant Peterson was sitting upright and alert at the kitchen table, his face dimly lit by a single kerosene lamp. He held a steaming cup of black tea in what looked like one of Jack’s camping mugs he used for fishing trips. The American made to stand and his chair scraped back on the slate floor. He strode over to greet Jack, passing Terra who stood warming her back on the stove. The door swung closed behind him, leaving Tommy out in the cool damp evening air of the approaching nightfall.
Chapter Twenty-one
On the crest of a small man-made bank overlooking the hospital, Zed and Riley were lying flat on their fronts on the grass. He scanned the outside of the buildings through some pocketsize Zeiss binoculars. They were both watching carefully for any movement, hidden from view beside a small coniferous tree, a scattering of daffodils at its base.
They had parked the Land Rover a discrete distance away in a quiet back street and walked the remaining quarter mile. Keeping to the shadows, stealing from cover, they had raced across any open ground one person at a time. They were taking no chances.
Zed passed the binoculars to Riley and whispered: “What do you think?”
Riley took them, put the strap round her neck and slowly brushed aside the daffodils in front of her with her free arm to clear her field of view. She did a slow sweep of the buildings from left to right, lingering a couple of times before continuing her scan. “You know what I think.” There was an edge to her voice. “I told you already. This is a suicide mission.”
“And I told you already, we aren’t leaving Will here.”
“Zed this isn’t our style. You’re putting the entire group at risk and for what? We don’t even know for sure he’s in there. You want to know what I’m thinking? Well, I’m thinking: is this a rescue or some weird macho bullshit revenge mission? Because that’s what it feels like. Take a look around you. Your little ‘band of brothers’ doesn’t stand a chance against these guys. They’re better armed and there’s probably a whole army of them down
Scottie answered for them, calling back over his shoulder whilst still staring at the helicopter. “He cannae say. They’ve been told not to speak to us. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Why? We’re on the same side, aren’t we?” said Tommy hopefully.
“Clearly not,” shouted one of the others, frustrated at their refusal to cooperate.
“I’m sure they’re just taking precautions. They dinnae know we’re not sick,” offered Scottie.
“Maybe the States didn’t get the sickness like we did,” said Sarah, one of the teenagers.
Scottie shouted back. “Naw Sarah, I wish that were true. Don’t you remember? It was everywhere. You must remember on the news, before everything went dark? New York, Washington, Chicago, Los Angeles. Every major city experienced outbreaks. Everyone and everywhere. There was nowhere to hide.”
“So why would they come here then if they’re not here to save us? Perhaps we’ve got it all the wrong way round. Maybe it’s them that need our help?” Tommy laughed and those around him joined in.
“That’s a very good question,” repeated Scottie. “Why are they here?”
In the distance, they could hear the low chugging of the Nipper’s engine just before she rounded the headland and hove into view. Tommy ran down to the jetty and waited patiently to catch the bowline from Sam and together they helped tie her up, bow and stern. Jack turned off the ignition, grabbed his bag and stepped ashore. Tommy fell into step beside him. As they walked towards the lighthouse, he brought Jack up to speed on the events thus far and led him to where Terra and the American were waiting inside.
Tommy knocked lightly on the sun-blistered wooden door, its off-white paint peeling and flaking. They heard footsteps inside and the door opened wide. Lieutenant Peterson was sitting upright and alert at the kitchen table, his face dimly lit by a single kerosene lamp. He held a steaming cup of black tea in what looked like one of Jack’s camping mugs he used for fishing trips. The American made to stand and his chair scraped back on the slate floor. He strode over to greet Jack, passing Terra who stood warming her back on the stove. The door swung closed behind him, leaving Tommy out in the cool damp evening air of the approaching nightfall.
Chapter Twenty-one
On the crest of a small man-made bank overlooking the hospital, Zed and Riley were lying flat on their fronts on the grass. He scanned the outside of the buildings through some pocketsize Zeiss binoculars. They were both watching carefully for any movement, hidden from view beside a small coniferous tree, a scattering of daffodils at its base.
They had parked the Land Rover a discrete distance away in a quiet back street and walked the remaining quarter mile. Keeping to the shadows, stealing from cover, they had raced across any open ground one person at a time. They were taking no chances.
Zed passed the binoculars to Riley and whispered: “What do you think?”
Riley took them, put the strap round her neck and slowly brushed aside the daffodils in front of her with her free arm to clear her field of view. She did a slow sweep of the buildings from left to right, lingering a couple of times before continuing her scan. “You know what I think.” There was an edge to her voice. “I told you already. This is a suicide mission.”
“And I told you already, we aren’t leaving Will here.”
“Zed this isn’t our style. You’re putting the entire group at risk and for what? We don’t even know for sure he’s in there. You want to know what I’m thinking? Well, I’m thinking: is this a rescue or some weird macho bullshit revenge mission? Because that’s what it feels like. Take a look around you. Your little ‘band of brothers’ doesn’t stand a chance against these guys. They’re better armed and there’s probably a whole army of them down
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