Part 12 (1/2)
As he approached the gate, he saw that it wasnt made of sheet metal, but was a set of retractable railings that could slide back into the wall itself. Onto it, and presumably preventing it from ever being opened, flattened pieces of metal had been welded, bolted, or otherwise attached.
”We wont get these open,” Greta said.
”But they would have left themselves a way out,” Finnegan said. ”And a way out can also be a way...” he trailed off.
”What?” Greta asked.
”People.” Finnegan gestured through a gap in the reinforced sections. Chester moved closer so that he could see. There were two figures. A man and a girl.
”She cant be more than nine,” Greta said with disbelief. ”h.e.l.lo!” she added, calling out to the two figures.
”h.e.l.lo,” the man said, and he sounded as tired as Chester felt. He stopped six yards from the gate, a hand on the girls shoulder.
”Im Greta. This is Chester, and Finnegan.”
”Eamonn,” Finnegan corrected her.
”Really?” she asked, turning to look at Finnegan.
”Where are you from?” the man asked.
”Anglesey,” Greta said, ”by way of the Tower of London. We were out looking for farms, orchards, anywhere with food that we could harvest.”
”You came here on foot?” the man asked.
”We came along the coast by boat. There were too many undead to get back to it, so now were going across country.”
”Oh,” the man said. They all waited, the silence stretched, but he didnt say anything more.
”Wheres Anglesey?” the girl asked.
”Its an island off the north coast of Wales,” Finnegan said.
”Not America?” the girl asked, disappointed.
”Were you expecting people from the US to come here?” Finnegan asked.
”Not really,” she replied. ”But we were expecting someone to come. We have been since March.”
”And were the first people youve seen?” Chester asked.
The man didnt say anything, but the girl nodded.
”Lots of people leave,” she said, ”but youre the first to arrive.”
”Chester?” Greta asked, the unspoken question obvious.
”Well be going back to London tomorrow,” he said. ”And you can come with us and wait there for a boat from Wales. They have electricity and people from all over the world. Its safe there. Or safer than anywhere else.” Hed said those words a dozen times since the outbreak, always with a sense that the journey was at least half done. This time they came out flat.
”That sounds like a lot of people,” the man said.
Chester waited, but the man didnt say anything more.
”Well, look, as I say, well be going back tomorrow,” Chester said slowly. He could feel tiredness overtaking him. ”But we need a place to sleep tonight. Will you let us in?”
”We should,” the girl said.
”How did you find us?” the man asked.
”Pure accident,” Finnegan said.
The man nodded to himself, thinking. What about became clear with his next question. ”Whats the catch?” he asked.
”Catch?” Chester asked.
”The con. The angle. We havent seen anyone new for months. No planes. No signs of life, then you show up with talk of electricity on an island hundreds of miles away.”
”Its real,” Greta said. ”It really is.”
”Were not here to rob you,” Chester said. ”If you dont let us in, well go, but well have to go, and we wont come back. I doubt anyone ever will. Youll be here on your own. Just the two of you.” He waved a gory hand at the undead littering the ground behind them. ”Its your choice.”
”Oh, please,” the girl pled. ”We should let them in before the monsters come back.”
”Fine,” the man relented, but he didnt seem happy about it. He disappeared behind the high wall, appearing again a few seconds later near the top. He lowered a ladder over the side. They climbed up.
Chesters first impression was of chaos, but then he saw the order and pattern behind it all. The vast lawn had been dug up, subdivided, and planted. Some of those plots still had plants growing in them, though in many they were wilting, dying now that the warmth had gone from the year. Others had been dug over or covered with planking or plastic in preparation for a spring planting. Many more had been left uncovered with small mounds of stems piled to rot in one corner. It would have taken a lot more than the effort of a man and a child to complete this labour, let alone that in those reinforced fields nearby. He remembered the dead soldier, Derry. How many more had once called this mansion their refuge?
”Was this your house?” Chester asked the man.
”Not on my salary. Leave your weapons by the wall,” he said, adding a heartbeat too late, ”if you dont mind.”
”Of course,” Chester said, laying the gore-covered mace and b.l.o.o.d.y knife by the wall. And as he straightened, he half turned so the man wouldnt notice when he checked the revolver was still secure in his pocket.
”Its a guitar,” the girl said.
”Im sorry?” Greta asked, laying her axe down.
”She means the house. Its built like a guitar,” the man said. ”Or thats what it was meant to look like from the air. It was a rock stars mansion. The swimming pool is meant to be a musical note.”
”Huh,” Chester grunted. Meetings like this were always awkward, but he didnt have the energy for the bluff bl.u.s.ter he usually employed ”So whats your name?” Greta asked the girl.
”Janine. And this is Detective Inspector Harry Styles,” Janine said, with obvious pride.
”Really?” Chester asked, giving the man a closer inspection. ”Where were you based?”
”London,” Styles said. ”The MET.”
”Huh,” Chester grunted. He looked over at Finnegan and noticed the man was leaning up against the wall. ”We could do with somewhere to wash and some spare clothes if youve got them.”
”We use the pump house down by the pool for was.h.i.+ng,” Styles said. ”And well see about clothes.”