The Village King by Eddie McGarrity Read Free Book Online

frustrated at him. “Just remember those things.”
    He nodded, bewildered by her
sudden insistence. He motioned for them to go and the three of them left. Karen
held onto Alana’s hand, having been quiet the whole time.
    When they stepped outside, they
crossed the road to go over to the wash-house. Stephen looked left towards the
cattle-grid. Rory was talking with Morgan while Deek and Tim held back at the
corner of the hall. Rory was pointing towards the direction of the wash-houses
while Morgan listened intently. Stephen kept them moving, but slowly, so he
could see what was happening. He was horrified to witness Morgan hand Rory one
of the army rifles.
    “Shit,” Stephen growled. He
pulled the girls round the corner to where they would be unobserved. “Listen to
me-”
    “Did he just-?” Alana had seen
what took place and was outraged but she kept her voice down.
    “Just listen,” said Stephen. He
was panicked and he spoke impulsively, not having consulted Gary, but he knew
he had to speak. “Between Duns and Chirnside, there is an old petrol station
with a burnt-out tanker in the forecourt. Half a kilometre east is the road to Edrom.
At the end of that road is a brick house with red-painted window frames. The
house is gutted but in the back garden is an honest to god cold-war bunker. The
entrance is too out in the open while these soldiers are out and about but if
they’re here, well...”
    Alana gulped. She searched his
face. She knew what he was telling her, that the bunker was stocked with tins.
She also knew what was about to happen, they both did. A squad of soldiers
double-timed round the corner and headed for the wash-houses.

16
     
    R ory had
sold them out. They
sat in Gary’s place amongst the remains of their gear.  Phil rested wrists on
his knees and leaned against the wall, next to a great hole. Gary hung his head
and stared into the void. He had dug the hole in the plasterboard himself.
Stephen had had the idea of lifting the floorboards. Inside they had stashed
all their stuff and stacked wood up in front to conceal everything.
    It was all gone, stolen by
Morgan’s Unit. The prized shotgun was in Deek’s hands, while Tim was in
possession of Stephen’s Glock. Everything else had been pillaged by the
soldiers; their food, everything. All they were left with was the clothes they
stood up in.
    Stephen knew, though he said
nothing, that Alana still had her Glock concealed on her person. She played
with Karen’s hair as the girl dozed in her lap. Stephen rested his forehead on
clasped hands. The sight of Rory being handed the rifle boiled his blood but he
held his rage down. He let it simmer inside him. He’d taken a punch when he had
tried to intervene. Two SA80s pointed at their heads had halted further
protests from him and Gary.
    Suzanne and the rest of them had
watched from a distance and done nothing. What could they do, he told himself,
though he still found himself angry at their inaction. They were weak,
defenceless and afraid, but he couldn’t help but think there were a few smug
looks. He knew he was resented for having tins of food while they toiled in
their gardens. Not everyone appreciated trading with him and would have taken
pleasure in seeing it taken from him.
    Clipped sounds of hooves on
tarmac sounded from outside. Alana was first to the window. Phil followed
Gary’s lead of staying where they were and not moving at all. Stephen asked,
“What’s going on?”
    “They’re pulling out.” Alana kept
her tone even, reporting the facts. Karen joined her and tip-toed to see. “Two
are staying at the manse. The rest are headed up to the forest.”
    Stephen dragged himself up and
peered out the window. “All our food is in the manse. They’ve left two guards.”
    Out in the street, Morgan led the
way as they rode round the cattle grid and headed up the grassy path. The two
Privates left behind disappeared inside the Manse and closed the door.
    “What are you thinking?”