The Perimeter (32 page)

‘Has he told you where Our Father is being held?’ Matthew asked the guard.

‘No. He refuses to say anything.’

‘Maybe you haven’t asked nicely enough,’ Matthew said.

The guard remained silent.

‘Well?’ Matthew prompted. ‘Did you ask nicely?’

‘I . . .’

‘Here.’ Matthew took the knife from the guard and walked up to the prisoner. ‘This is how you ask.’ He held the knife to the man’s throat and pressed the flat part of the blade down firmly.

‘Where is our leader? Tell me or I’ll cut your throat.’

But the man only laughed. ‘Do it, FJ. I don’t care.’

Jamie wondered why the man had called him FJ.

Matthew’s face clouded and he pressed the knife down harder, until the blade nicked the man’s skin, drawing blood from his throat. ‘Where is your daughter? Where is James Grey? Hand them to me and we’ll withdraw. We will leave your precious perimeter. It is a simple equation. Two lives for everyone else. Surely you wouldn’t put your own selfish desires before those of your people.’

‘If you think I would ever tell you where to find my daughter, you’re more deluded than I thought.’ The man spat blood onto the floor at Matthew’s feet. ‘And you may as well know that your beloved leader is dead. James Grey died weeks ago.’

‘You’re lying,’ Matthew hissed.

‘Am I?’

An explosion outside made everyone look up.

‘What was that?’ Matthew asked, turning first to the guard and then to Jamie.

The faint sound of battle could be heard from outside and the prisoner smiled.

 
‘Find out what’s going on,’ Matthew barked.

* * *

We came at them hard, with a roar of engines, a thud of horses’ hooves and a battle cry which echoed across the wasteland. We were fighting for survival. For food, for warmth, for home and family, for love and for life. Everyone had grown weary of the relentless winter and the constant threats from hostile forces. And all our energy went into that charge. From the relative safety of the van, I fired my Saiga at the robed invaders, my bullets joining the others, zipping into the masses and finding their target every time – because it was a massive target. More soldiers than I’d anticipated. Even Reece gave me a look which said more than words.

I hoped our eastern flank was doing as well as us. The majority of our gypsy force was now coming to our aid across the heath. Charging like demons toward the enemy. After our initial attack from each side, FJ’s soldiers were finally gathering themselves together and returning fire in earnest. But we were a moving, spread-out target, whereas they were closer together in a compact group. Easier to pick off. Plus, it didn’t seem like they were all armed. And, of the ones who were, many of them were out of ammo, reduced to using their guns as big sticks or shields.

The gypsies were ferocious. They didn’t simply hang back to fire their guns. Instead, they careened into the ranks of soldiers, slicing them down with hunting knives and other more primitive weapons. Smashing at heads with the butts of their rifles and kicking their way through to the next soldier and the next. The warriors had huge horses which towered above the gypsy ponies, but the smaller steeds were nimble and brave, taking their riders where they needed to go and delivering vicious kicks to the enemy.

Reece left the van and took some of his men closer, where they began to lob grenades into the middle of the warrior clusters. This forced the enemy away from the fence, sending them running straight into our gunfire. They were trapped and losing hundreds of men by the minute. But despite the success of our attack so far, I couldn’t feel triumphant, for we were losing people too. Reece’s comrades were falling around us, bleeding and dying on the cold ground. I ran to help some of the wounded, taking them back to the van with the med supplies and leaving them to be patched up by people more capable than I.

Squinting up at the wall, I wondered why FJ’s men weren’t making full use of all the shooting platforms. As far as I could tell, we were only taking fire from the section nearest the gates. I was amazed how quickly we were able to cut through this army. At this rate we might actually make it through into the perimeter soon.

I guessed it was now around mid-to-late afternoon. The sun would be going down soon and the temperature would plummet even further. We needed to get in there and finish this off. I worried about the people down in the stores. I was desperate to get down there and see if Luc and Ma were still safe. What if FJ had found them? What would he do?

Chapter Thirty Seven

The cell door flew open and one of the warriors stood in the doorway panting hard.

‘Yes?’ Matthew snapped.

‘I need to speak to you, Sir,’ the warrior said, looking from Matthew to the prisoner and back again.

Matthew strode out of the room, into the hallway, followed by Jamie and the others. The guard remained with the prisoner.

‘What’s going on out there?’ Matthew said. ‘I heard an explosion.’

The warrior spoke quickly. ‘Our soldiers outside . . . they’re taking heavy fire, Sir.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Matthew said.

‘We’ve been attacked, and more than half the guards we posted at the gates are dead.’

‘Attacked? By who? I thought the enemy had fled.’

‘By gypsies, Sir.’

‘Gypsies? What are they doing here? How many of our men are outside?’

‘Only about four hundred still standing.’

‘But that means they’re killing hundreds of our men. How is that possible?’

‘Our men are good soldiers. Taught never to flee from an enemy, but they’re caught in a crossfire.’ The man lowered his eyes.

‘Where are the gypsies now?’

‘Still out there, trying to get to the gates. At this rate, they’ll have wiped out all the guards we stationed outside within the hour. We’ve got a few of our men firing from the parapets, but the enemy destroyed most of the platforms up there before they fled. We can’t access the rest of the wall to fire down at our attackers.’

‘Are there any platforms left at all?’ Matthew asked.

‘One.’

‘I need you to get me up there.’

‘Sir,’ the warrior said. ‘It’s too dangerous. You’d be a target.’

‘Don’t argue. Get me up there.’

‘Let me go up with you,’ Jamie said. ‘Take four of us. We can shield you.’

Matthew nodded. ‘Let’s go now,’ he said.

They swept along the corridor and back outside.

‘Who are these gypsies?’ Matthew asked. ‘What do they want? Are they mercenaries? Do they want money? Are they trying to take this perimeter for themselves? How many are there?’

He kept up a steady stream of questions, but as yet nobody knew the answers. And they were all still reeling from the news about Grey’s death. Jamie wondered if it was true. He thought it was very likely. That meant Matthew was their new leader.

Through the torn gates, Jamie saw the surging bodies of their warriors trying to keep this new enemy at bay. He heard raucous cheers beyond. Whoops and whistles, battle cries and rapid trills of machine gun fire. More of Matthew’s warriors were attempting to get out through the gates to help engage the gypsies, but each time a group tried to leave, they were driven back inside.

At the base of the wall, one of their men passed Jamie a megaphone. He carried it with him as he climbed the ladder, a tricky feat in his disciple’s robes. The Voice of the Father climbed up after, followed by three other disciples. It was quite a climb and Jamie fought off a wave of dizziness, unused to being this high off the ground. At the top, they arranged themselves on the narrow platform, next to the marksmen who were already up there. It didn’t feel too stable.

Making sure that The Voice of the Father was not exposed, Jamie peered through the razor wire to witness a scene of total devastation below. Rows and rows of fallen warriors, as well as those still alive, pinned back against the fence and fending off the gypsies with little or no ammunition. It was a bad joke. How could this be? Their warriors were trained for battle. They were the best of the best. But they’d been trapped without enough weapons or bullets to fight back.

Jamie passed the megaphone to The Voice of the Father.

‘Ceasefire!’ Matthew called out through the loud speaker. ‘Ceasefire!’ Even over the noise of the battlefield, his voice carried authority.

Shouts rose up from below, along with more shots and catcalls. Matthew waited, his face rigid and tense, his eyes steely, focused on the scene below.

Gradually the noises died away and Jamie watched as more and more faces looked up at them, weapons trained on their position. But mercifully, they didn’t shoot. It was a risky move, coming up here, and Jamie was ready to step in front of Matthew should he need to protect him.

Up so high, the wind groaned and sighed, rattling the precarious wooden boards underfoot. Then, a shout from below:

‘What do you want?’

‘I wish to speak to your leader,’ Matthew said, his voice clear and otherworldly, floating across the wall and down to the enemy.

‘You’re speaking to him,’ came the same voice. Matthew scanned the chaotic scene below, trying to spot the speaker.

‘What are you people doing here?’ Matthew asked. ‘This is not your fight. If you do not leave within ten minutes, we will have no choice but to kill everyone inside.’

‘Not my problem,’ yelled the voice from below. ‘Do what you want!’

‘Gotcha,’ Jamie murmured, as he spied a dark haired gypsy, flanked by a dozen or so others. The man had an automatic rifle in one hand and a bloody machete in the other. Jamie tapped the closest marksmen on the shoulder and pointed out the man. The sniper nodded and aimed his rifle at the gypsy’s head. ‘I have him in my sights, Sir,’ the marksman said. ‘Shall I shoot?’

‘Do it,’ Matthew said.

‘Wait,’ Jamie replied. ‘I’m sorry, Sir, but maybe we shouldn’t make a martyr of him. They’ll want to avenge his blood and then we’ll have no chance of appeasing them.’

‘Appease them?’ Matthew said. ‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘If we shoot him, we’ll have no chance to negotiate.’

‘What are your orders, Sir?’ the sniper asked Matthew.

‘Hold your fire,’ Matthew replied.

‘Know this,’ the gypsy yelled. ‘If you kill those people inside, then as soon as we reach you, we’ll make sure you die slowly and painfully.’

Cocky little sod, thought Jamie.

‘What I don’t like,’ the man continued yelling up at them, ‘is people who steal what doesn’t belong to them. Like other people’s children. There’s no bargaining here, sunshine. What I want is your head on a spike. You won’t be getting out of there alive.’

‘I have thousands more men back at Salisbury,’ Matthew replied. ‘If you harm any more of my people, my warriors will march down here and they will seek retribution.’

‘You still don’t get it, do you, sonny. You’re not leaving here alive. None of you are. Put down your weapons and we’ll promise to kill you quick,’ the gypsy yelled to a chorus of cheers. And then a shot skimmed by Jamie’s head. All four disciples and Matthew ducked behind the wall while the marksmen returned fire. But Jamie didn’t see if they hit anything.

‘Time to go back down,’ Jamie said. ‘We can’t risk your life up here, Sir.’

Matthew’s face was stone. White with icy anger. ‘We cannot let them get away with this. We are God’s army, with thousands of trained warriors. This cannot be happening. Who are those people? And how did we come to be trapped in here?’

‘Sir,’ Jamie said, ‘we must rally all our brothers inside and send them out to fight. We still outnumber them easily.’

‘No,’ Matthew replied. ‘Our warriors must find the girl first.’

‘But, Sir, she’s just one girl. We need to . . .’

‘Silence!’ Matthew hissed.

Jamie bowed his head and hoped Matthew’s decision wouldn’t cost them dearly.

* * *

Standing at the base of the perimeter, listening to FJ’s demand for us to stand down, only seemed to reinvigorate the gypsies. They got their second wind and threw themselves at the warriors like rabid dogs. Those pale sullen faces I’d seen back at The Walls had now been transformed into an angry fighting machine.

The thought of FJ inside my home made me angry as hell. He had been standing on the very same platform that Rita and I had stood on this morning as we’d witnessed the approaching army and the destruction of Eddie’s truck. I couldn’t bear the thought of FJ’s men trampling across our roads and lawns, defiling our houses and mistreating our people. How dare he? I reloaded my Saiga and stuffed my pockets full of ammo, before taking a breath and leaving the cover of the van to draw closer to the main battle. I was way out of my depth, but I couldn’t hang back while the gypsies fought with every ounce of strength in their malnourished bodies. I needed to get inside the perimeter and find out what was happening.

We fired our guns and hacked with our knives. It was brutal and bloody and terrifying. Despite the battle noise, which raged around me, all I could truly hear was the harsh rhythm of my own breaths coming fast and loud. Animalistic cries issued from my own mouth as I flew at the enemy, convinced in that moment that this would be my last day on earth. That I would die here in this hellish bloodbath, defending my home.

Somehow, we were managing to force our way through the enemy, getting closer to the gates, but they were still hopelessly out of reach. My aim was to slip through one of the holes in the wall and try to get to my house and down into the stores. To find Luc and tell him what was happening. I couldn’t let myself think about another scenario where Luc wasn’t there.

Evening was almost upon us. The light turning its back on the violence of the day. I hoped darkness would make my plan easier. Suddenly, a warm burn spread across my face. I put my hand to my cheek and saw crimson blood. A stray cut from a wild sword to my right. I ducked and slithered through icy slush and dead bodies on my stomach. Then I pushed myself onto my hands and knees and tried to crawl toward the fence. If I stayed low and moved slowly, I might just go unnoticed. I needed to get inside and find Pa.

Crawling through the horror, I clamped my jaw shut and tried to stop shaking. My rucksack hampered my progress so I discarded it. But I made sure I kept hold of my semi-automatic. At least I wasn’t a target down here and, as I crawled along, I managed to take out several warriors by shooting up into their faces and chests. No one even noticed me, they were so caught up in the violence at head height.

Finally, I lay on my belly and slithered through the gates, using my elbows to propel myself over the massacred bodies and dead dogs. While I was hidden in the murk of bodies, I tugged a robe off one of the dead warriors and slipped it on, cringing as I pulled the blood-stained hood over my head. To my left I spied a clear spot leading to a crumbled section of wall. It was dark enough to chance making a dash for it. So I scrambled to my feet and ran at a crouch toward the opening.

I was through.                                                                                                     

I flattened myself against the brickwork, breathing hard. The scene before me was little better than outside. The whole place was a brutal bloody war zone. And something else was wrong. Nowhere did I see the uniforms of the perimeter guards. Nor did I recognise a single face. The only people I saw were FJ’s men and the gypsies. I had to get away from here.

Following the line of the wall, I headed away from the fighting, toward the back of the guards’ building. Maybe some of our people were being held prisoner inside. Peering through a lighted window, I saw four or five robed men inside. Ducking down, I swore. They were already making themselves at home. I had to find my people and let them know I’d brought help. They needed to come back and join the fight. What if they’d used the secret passageway and were already headed away from here?

I left the cover of the guards’ house and ran as hard as I could down the tree-lined pavements and away from the fighting, not looking back, just praying I wouldn’t hear pounding feet behind me or feel bullets in my back. But luckily everyone was caught up near the entrance. The cries and screams and sounds of gunfire receded as my feet took me further into the perimeter. I needed to cross the main road, but it was wide and exposed and I hesitated to leave the cover of the fir trees.