Insidious valour, p.7
Insidious Valour, page 7
Hannah… “How was your shift watching Hannah?” Ryan asked, concerned as his fiancée’s face darkened with hatred.
“She’s getting worse,” she snarled softly, trying not to let Maisie hear the conversation. “She talks about what will happen to me when I’m captured. It’s called the ‘breeding programme’, apparently. I don’t even know if she’s telling the truth, but if she is… those poor women.” She wiped her nose. “That’s what’ll happen to me.”
Ryan pulled her in and held her close. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know.” Cassy kissed his cheek.
“Did you want to do it? To kill her?”
“I…” She hesitated and then said, “I did, but that puts us at a disadvantage if I followed through with it.”
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head and passing Alfie over. “Can you take care of bedtime for these two? I need to see how Teddy’s getting on before I go to bed.” He stood and walked to Maisie. “You’ve been looking after Mummy while I’ve been gone?”
“I have,” she said softly, not looking away as she picked at the bowl of tomatoes. Ryan smiled wider than he could’ve ever thought, and his heart melted on the spot. He’d missed her voice so much. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” she asked.
“Of course you can, smelly bum.” Ryan held her hand and walked her to Cassy. “Keep my side warm for me. I’ll be up in a little while.”
As a proud dad, he waved good night as his family disappeared upstairs, ready to join them for a well-earned sleep before getting back to his security duties the next morning. He looked around the cafeteria at all the families huddled near the fire as they ate their thyme rice and soda bread.
It was the most basic of meals they had been forced to have for years, but a couple of nights wouldn’t dampen their spirits until the generators were back up and running. They had two years of this before the power was restored and salvaged cooking oil had become their main supply until they sourced their own.
That’s how it was at the beginning, and everyone at Penbrook Vineyard remembered it well. It was a long, hard learning experience of trial and error, but they were proud of their home and honoured their missing ones by keeping it running—all the people they had lost through illnesses and untreatable health conditions.
Then there were the ones who were taken, who would’ve still been helping to keep the fire going and keep the vineyard safe had Admiral’s people never come calling. Cooper. Fergie. Hamsa. Sam. Doc. Lyndon. Not to mention Mikey, Jen, Steph, and Rich, who were still in France. He was currently unable to contact them. He felt his anger beginning to surface, shutting it down before it brought on the inevitable anxiety vomits.
Go and see Teddy, then get some fucking sleep, man.
He said a quick goodnight to everyone before he left, making sure they had the extra winter duvets, blankets, and candles, then took a torch and stepped down into the basement. He heard Teddy around the corner, mixing the corn oil with paint thinner and acetone, but Ryan’s eyes felt as if they were glued to the cage door further inside. He walked over, finding young Callum sitting in the watch chair, surrounded by candles.
“Ryan.” Callum looked up in surprise, shifting his glasses. “I didn’t know you were coming down.”
“It’s cool. You’re not in trouble,” Ryan said and chuckled. He hadn’t spent much time around the lad, who generally worked out in the crops but had recently volunteered to help Dominic with various security details. He’d been trained with a pistol but was yet to see combat. He wasn’t much older than Lyndon. “Can you give us five minutes? Go get yourself some rice.”
“Okay. Sure. No problem.” He stood, marching off like he’d just been given an order by his commanding officer.
Ryan sat carefully in the chair, head lowered, and his hands crossed between his knees, contemplating why he was breaking a promise to himself. He lifted his eyes to the prisoner in the cell. The bitch that killed his nephew. Admiral’s daughter. Hannah Caven.
Her tall frame lay on the single mattress of the cold floor, wrapped under two blankets as she tried to read a book by two dying candles. Her dark red hair swept behind her shoulders, and her hazel eyes squinted at the pages as she flicked through.
Behind the open pages of the book, a shadow of a smirk emerged on her face. “What’s so urgent that you needed to see me for the first time in weeks?” she asked, placing the book down. Ryan didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, holding his hands between his knees. “Go on.” She sat up, wrapping the blanket over her. “What’s so important?”
He stayed quiet, not giving anything away. “Have your sanitary requirements been met?” he deflected.
Her smirk returned this time. “Somewhat. Your pretty little fiancée did provide me with sanitary towels… though washing them in a bowl of cold water and reusing them isn’t my idea of a good time. If I could leave a review for your hospitality, I’d give you three stars. The care is great, but the room is too cold, and the food is shit.”
“I’ll get you another blanket, and I’ll tell the chef to stop putting shit in your food,” Ryan replied dryly.
“Funny. Almost as funny as the bullet I put in your nephew.” She let her gaze slowly drift down Ryan’s body as she pronounced every word of her statement.
Ryan felt pain and the urge to rip the door off and kill her, but she wasn’t going to have this moment, no matter how much she was trying to get under his skin.
“No reaction?” She pouted sarcastically, taunting. “Did you know you have the same ‘fuck me’ eyes your girlfriend has? You’re looking at me like she does. Undressing…” She let the right shoulder of her blanket fall, nearly exposing her breast. “I’ll keep it a secret if you want to. Maybe we can ask her to join in? I’ve never had a woman before, but I’ll let you both take me. You both look like you need a good fu—”
“It’s not going to work, no matter how much you try,” Ryan interrupted bluntly, sitting back in the chair and sparking a cigarette. “Unless I knew I didn’t need you as a bargaining chip anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This… all this shit you’re doing. Trying to get us to kill you, giving your dad carte blanche to attack here. Smart. I didn’t take you for a fucking martyr.”
“You can take me any way you want,” she moaned teasingly.
“Or a whore,” he added, pulling his Glock out from the back of his waistband and resting it on his knee, barrel aimed directly at her head. “Oh, this?” he said, looking at the gun. “This isn’t for you… just yet.”
“Just yet? Is this your idea of foreplay?”
“No, it’s not. This is me telling you that maybe, or maybe not, your dad’s supply ship from Venezuela has been found.” He watched the smirk disappear from her face. “And maybe, or maybe not, your dad’s location has been found, and he won’t have the chance to come here and save you.”
“So that gives you no reason to keep me alive?” Hannah realised. “I’ve been goading you all into killing me already. Why would I care?”
“You’d care because no one knows you’re here, so I’m not compelled to report your death… no matter how it was carried out,” he said coldly. “There will be no record of your execution, and I won’t face a jury for any war crimes.”
“Everyone here will know.”
“They’ll know I killed you,” Ryan heard the stairwell door shut, signalling for him to wrap up the conversation, “but they won’t know how I killed you.” He tucked the Glock back in his trousers. “Stop talking to everyone like shit. Stop threatening Cassy with your ideas and fucking behave for the remainder of your stay. If you behave, I promise I’ll only use the gun. If you keep pushing buttons, however… what I’ll do to you will make The Bully Killer look like a fucking amateur.”
11
No signal.
Ryan huffed and tossed the smart radio on the table. It had been five days since he’d spoken to Mikey, and he was still waiting on an update from Harper.
He had yet to tell everyone about the possibility of the fight being over, and he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to do it. It was the false hope. A broken promise, like the many he hadn’t been able to keep. He could’ve used talking to Mikey right now, and he was at his wit’s end of what to do, the silence killing him.
At least Steph is in good hands, with Mikey watching out for her.
The bottom of his stomach dropped like an anchor, and he felt disgusted with his moment of self-pity. He wasn’t the only person who had lost family. Everyone here had.
Everyone deserves to know.
He took the handheld radio and said, “Drinker. Can you call everyone for a meeting in half an hour?”
“Aye. Anything serious?”
“No. Just something I need to share.”
He replaced the handheld with the smart radio and tried dialling again.
No signal.
* * *
Ryan took to the cafeteria’s podium, wondering how everyone would react to him withholding the truth and how much trust he would lose. His phantom fingers ached, though he quickly dismissed it.
“Hi, everyone. Thank you for being here on short notice,” he started. “I’ve heard it’s been productive in the rice rooms?”
Teddy proceeded to tell Ryan about the amount they had threshed and the newer batches being sown. The news was looking good on that front, as they could provide food for at least another hundred people for six months. Dominic then explained that the fridge and freezer motors had been checked, and due to the weather, they weren’t using as much corn oil to sustain their workability.
“Well, we’re looking good on all these fronts, and with the corn oil we retrieved, we have a good foundation taking us into the new year,” Ryan said, clearing his throat. “But I do have something I need to tell you.” He leaned on the podium. “I still haven’t heard from Mikey or Harper, but there is something I didn’t forward to you all last time I spoke to the lieutenant.” An awkward pause filled the room. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I, er, didn’t want to give us a glimmer of hope just for it to be snatched away.”
“Hope?” someone asked from in front, but Ryan didn’t catch who. All he felt was the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Yes. Hope,” he continued. “The reason the other groups of survivors are being delayed is because they’re being relocated to the strongholds in Sheffield, Cardiff, and Bournemouth, where they will be looked after by staff over winter. The military is being recalled. All military.”
Dominic asked the question that was on everyone’s lips. “Why?”
“About a week ago, one of the European Alliance’s supply ships intercepted a Venezuelan cargo transport off the coast of Portugal. It’s the cargo vessel that’s been supplying Admiral. On a search and interrogation of the crew, they have Admiral’s location in Liberia, plus the rest of his forces up in the Scottish Isles. They’re organising two missions to capture or eliminate… every single one of them. They’re going to try and end this.”
The cafeteria was still and stone-cold silent, with only the clucking of chickens within the medical corridor to be heard. Ryan let the news sit, waiting for some form of backlash. Every face looked back at him. Confused. Stunned.
“I didn’t tell you because I couldn’t bear the thought of giving false hope. It was selfish and cowardly of me, and I’m sorry it took me this long to pass it on,” Ryan said in an apology.
“You don’t…” Teddy paused, then said, “…have to apologise.”
“I do. I’m supposed to lead by example.”
“You already do,” Dominic added. “And no, you’re not perfect, but you never pretended to be… boss.” He said the last part with a grin.
“Well, thank you.” Ryan chuckled, looking over everyone. “Until we get the news that the European Alliance was successful, we’re on our toes every day, and we stay self-sufficient.” He felt his confidence seeping slowly back into his veins. “You all did brilliantly during the few days we had to reduce the power, and I can’t thank you enough. When the other groups of survivors get here, they’ll be lucky to have you all by their sides. If anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs for the remainder of the day and night. I’ve got another long-ass shift.”
Another quiet, cold night on the top floor was counteracted by Ryan putting his brain to good use, though he felt he was going back on his word and getting ahead of himself. On a map of Maidville, he’d marked down all the main roads and ways into the town, along with the structures that were either most degraded or destroyed.
Cassy’s gentle footsteps were loud enough for Ryan to notice. He looked up from the table and rubbed his eyes. She slowly stepped across the restaurant floor, cradling an asleep Alfie while holding Maisie’s hand.
Ryan glanced at his smart radio. “It’s five in the morning! What are you doing up?”
“Maisie wanted to see you.” Cassy smiled, sitting on the chair next to him.
“Really?” he picked up Maisie and sat her on his lap. “At this hour?”
“She’s not been sleeping well when you are on your night shifts.”
“Sorry. I’ve been playing around with some ideas for the future.”
“Like what?” Cassy asked, looking at one of the maps that Ryan had been altering.
“How we can extend our grounds,” he said, turning the map around so she could see his notes. “The land outside our southern wall is just a muddy wasteland. We could put solar panels out there and not have to be so reliant on the corn oil.” He moved his pencil, pointing to the northern side of their grounds. “We’ve never utilised the river outside. Some kind of mill, maybe? Are mills used for flour production? I don’t actually know, but there must be something we can use with it?” He looked up to see Cassy was gleaming. “What?”
“You’re actually moving forward.”
“I’m preparing. There’s a difference. I’m aware that until it’s over, we’re still at war.”
“You could’ve planned all this at any other time, though, considering we’ve always been at war,” she pointed out. “It’s like you can see a light at the end of a tunnel.”
“Maybe, but I’m not taking my eyes away from the world we live in.” He pointed out the window. The towering hill behind the sewage plant on the opposite side of the dual carriageway.
“Maidhill?” She looked out the window. Ryan followed her gaze and stared into the darkness.
“The trees. We’ll take them down. We need timber, and it’ll take away any hiding spots for outsiders.” He knew what he was saying was logical and a huge task, but the reality was it was personal. The tree-covered western slope was where Hannah had fired the shot that killed Lyndon. “It’ll take a while, but it’ll serve us in the long run.”
“I understand, baby.” She held his hand. “What else do you think we could do?”
His heart warmed. This was the love and encouragement that made him who he was now. “Well, before all of this,” he pointed to the notes, “and when everything is over, the first thing we’re going to do is get married.”
“Even in the snow?” she asked, laughing at the idea.
“I wouldn’t care if it was raining beer or hailing rabbit shit. I’d still marry you.”
“Language!” Cassy Scowled, nodding to Maisie.
“Oh, yeah.” Ryan bit his lip. “Probably the only benefit I have with you not talking at the moment, isn’t it?” He kissed Maisie on the cheek.
“We’ll go back to bed now and leave you with your planning.” She leaned over for a kiss and took Maisie’s hand. “I’ll see you in a few—”
A low, mechanical roar broke through the silent sky, gradually getting louder.
“A helicopter?” Ryan looked out the window, trying to see where it was coming from. “Take the kids back, then wake Drinker and Dominic.” He kissed Cassy and sent them on their way before asking into the radio. “Callum? Everything okay in the basement?”
“Yes, Ryan.”
“There’s a chopper on the way. I’m going out to investigate.”
“Okay. I, mean, understood.”
Ryan grabbed his SIG716 and ran down the stairs and out the front entrance. The helicopter was in view, approaching from the south, and followed by a whole unit of airborne vehicles. Chinooks, attack choppers, Little-Birds. They pounded through the sky, with one breaking off from the formation and descending slowly. Ryan lit a flare and threw it towards the open space in the car park, which the Chinook followed and landed just to the right of it.
The back ramp slowly opened, letting Ryan see inside and raise his rifle to fire as the man walked down.
“Who the fuck are you?” Ryan demanded, ready to fire. Ready to kill.
Part II
Full Circle
12
The warm, dark red liquid oozed against the cold stainless steel, swirling with the warm water before disappearing down the sink. Lieutenant Adam Harper carefully rinsed out the wine glass and placed it on the drying rack, trying to avoid accidentally dropping it as his hands shook. He turned his attention back to the open bottle—a gift from Ryan, and in that moment, he was awash with yet more guilt for failing to keep Steph protected while under his care.
He glanced at his watch, screwed the bottle cap back on and placed it in the cupboard above the sink. Now wasn’t the time to finish it, nor take it to his family’s new temporary accommodation.
The late-night activity would surely be noticed by the other residents within the apartment block, but he didn’t care. If someone was coming directly for the vineyard residents, it meant that there was every chance his family could be targeted based purely on nothing but association. The safety of his family came first, and he didn’t hesitate when the option to move them to a secure location was offered. It might have been counterintuitive to leave his family in the same apartment block as Mikey, Jen, and Steph, but the newer and buffed-up security detail had been provided by someone he’d trusted for over twenty years and had the bonus that Rook was now stationed there for twenty-four-hour overwatch of the floor they occupied.
