Surviving The Evacuation (Book 8): Anglesey by Frank Tayell Read Free Book Online

forever. Around the time they succumb to time and decay, the death rate will skyrocket, and we’ll face a generational crisis. Everyone’s received a massive dose of radiation. Though there may be close to ten thousand adults on Anglesey, there’re only two hundred and seventy-three children. In twenty years, they’ll be all that’s left. There’ll be some births, sure, but can civilisation survive if there’s only a few hundred people?”
    “You’re a bit of a glass-half-empty kinda guy, aren’t you,” Sholto said.
    “I’m an old man who knows he hasn’t got long for this world,” George said. “My legacy is all I have left. I don’t want our species’ future to be a choice between a new Dark Age and extinction. If Anglesey fails, that’s what’ll happen.”
    “Yeah,” Lorraine said, her ever-present grin growing wider, “he’s not so much glass-half-empty as glass-smashed-when-it-fell-on-the-floor. Like he said, a few weeks ago we were worried that a nuclear submarine was going to destroy us. Now we’ve got electricity. At this rate, we’ll have space flight by Christmas.”
    “The optimism of youth,” George murmured.
    “Caernarfon!” Gwen called. “You can see the castle.”
    Despite Lorraine’s cheerful banter, George’s words resonated. I’d worried about the kind of future Annette and Daisy would have, but only in the abstract. Out in the wasteland, I’d had a mental image of a remote house and a few acres; of a cow, some chickens, and windblown crops; of backbreaking farm work, but always with the result that the larder was full. I’d been so grateful that we’d found somewhere safe from the undead that I’d not thought much on what it would really be like in twenty years. I’d not given much thought to what it’d be like in twenty days, but this wasn’t the time to think about it further.
    Gwen cut the engine. “Do you see the yacht?” she asked.
    Since it was the only craft by the shore, it was impossible to miss.
    “That’s the golf club?” Sholto asked, as the boat drifted with the current.
    “Here,” George passed me a pair of binoculars. “My eyes aren’t what they were.”
    I braced my feet, trying to adjust to the motion of the waves.
    “The yacht’s moored in a small, sheltered dock that’s been dug out of the shore,” I said. “To the south is a coastal road. To the north… no, the road’s obscured by a growing mass of wispy vegetation. Inland, behind the road and south of the dock, there’s a swathe of overgrown grass a richer shade of green than in the abandoned paddocks to the north. I’d say that’s the golf course. Fifty metres inland are a cluster of rooftops partially hidden by the towering trees. I’m guessing the low-roofed building is the clubhouse, while the buildings a little to the south look like houses.”
    “That’s a great impersonation of an estate agent,” Lorraine said. “But what about the zombies?”
    “Two figures by the dock. Three more by the road. I think… Yes, they’re undead. I’m certain.”
    “What about inland?” Simon asked.
    “Too many trees, too much vegetation.”
    “Any smoke?” Gwen asked.
    “No,” I said.
    “Five zombies?” George said. “There’s probably going to be more. All right, we’ve done this before. Thadde— sorry, Sholto, I want you to take out the two zombies by the dock. Then you, Gwen, Lorraine, and Simon are to go inland to the clubhouse. Bill and I will secure the boat and follow. If there’re too many, we fall back to the boat and regroup. This is a rescue mission, we’re the help that comes to others, which is a nice way of saying if we get into difficulty, we’re on our own, so don’t get into difficulty. Everyone ready?”
    Gwen turned the engine back on, and sped the boat towards the dock. With both hands on the guardrail, and the boat bouncing across the waves, I couldn’t see much. There was a jolt as Gwen threw the boat into reverse. As it banged into the dock,