heading?”
He gave me one of his long looks, and I
thought he was going to tell me to mind my own business. But in the
end he said, “I was with a group north of here. Not a people’s
republic like yours. Run by a man called Mike. Eight of us. We … we
had a disagreement, and parted company. The journey was harder than I
expected. I’d just about had it when you found me.”
This raised more questions than it
answered. “What were you and the group doing?”
“Looting, basically. When the
government decided to evacuate the country, Mike came up with this
idea: we’d stay behind a bit, then make our own way south, but
stop on the way and collect valuable stuff, from jewellers and
museums. When we got somewhere civilized we’d be rich, because
gold only gets more valuable in a crisis. He reckoned what was left
of the world would go back on the gold standard.”
“Who is Mike? Did you work for
him?”
“He used to run FreeFight before
the snow, that’s how I knew him. MMA.”
“MMA?”
“Mixed Martial Arts. Cage
fighting.”
“You were a cage fighter?”
“Yeah. Mike had a finger in lots
of pies. Didn’t know he was a psycho back then, though. He got
hold of the Semtex.”
“ Semtex ?”
“Plastic explosive. For blowing
up safes.”
“I know what Semtex is!” A
thought struck me. “So is it gold in your backpack?”
“Gold and diamonds. Krugerrands,
other coins like Britannias and sovereigns, bit of museum gold, and
18 carat jewellery.”
“No wonder it’s heavy. Was
that your share of the loot? Wow.”
He gave me a dark look, as if there was
more he could have said, but had decided not to. I wondered what he
was concealing. He stared into his glass, drained it and changed the
subject. “So what about you? What are you doing here with this
bunch of losers?”
I thought this rather unkind, and said
so. “I wouldn’t call them that. They’re just
ordinary people, coping with an extraordinary situation they didn’t
bargain for.”
He laughed. “They’re going
to be dead in five years, and they’re squabbling over solar
tulips.”
“They won’t necessarily be
dead in five years. They haven’t done too badly so far.”
“Their skill sets are about equal
to running a charity car boot sale. In nearly a year none of you have
set up a generator. You could have electricity, the petrol’s
there for the taking – all those underground car parks full of
cars. Why haven’t you got solar panels for melting snow and
heating water? Look around a bit and you’ll find them. Set up a
greenhouse, you could grow fresh vegetables. Another thing, what
happens if a more enterprising neighbourhood gang decide to drop in
and co-opt your supplies, all neatly stacked up waiting for them,
huh? Got any defence plans? Weapons? I thought not. Two men with baseball bats could walk
all over you.”
Call me naïve, but this had
genuinely not occurred to me. It’s so isolated here in the
middle of London, I’d never thought of people who might harm us
turning up. I’d sometimes reflected how nice it was, not to
bother with locking the flat when I was out – so different from
the old London, where lock it or lose it was the rule. My balcony
door only locks from the inside, anyway. When I’m out anyone
can walk in. Obviously Morgan was right; there was no law left in
England, nothing to protect the weak from the strong; it could
happen. The thought of raiders beating me up and taking my food and
firewood was scary. I could at least have hidden my reserves in
different places, not kept them all together in my flat and the flat
next door. I started to ask him how his gang interacted with people
they came across as they moved around; but he hadn’t finished.
“And what strategy have you got
for when it gets worse? From what I’ve seen, you lot are
working your butts off just to maintain the status quo. You’re
none of you risk-takers – maybe with the exception of you,
Tori.” He eyed me
He gave me one of his long looks, and I
thought he was going to tell me to mind my own business. But in the
end he said, “I was with a group north of here. Not a people’s
republic like yours. Run by a man called Mike. Eight of us. We … we
had a disagreement, and parted company. The journey was harder than I
expected. I’d just about had it when you found me.”
This raised more questions than it
answered. “What were you and the group doing?”
“Looting, basically. When the
government decided to evacuate the country, Mike came up with this
idea: we’d stay behind a bit, then make our own way south, but
stop on the way and collect valuable stuff, from jewellers and
museums. When we got somewhere civilized we’d be rich, because
gold only gets more valuable in a crisis. He reckoned what was left
of the world would go back on the gold standard.”
“Who is Mike? Did you work for
him?”
“He used to run FreeFight before
the snow, that’s how I knew him. MMA.”
“MMA?”
“Mixed Martial Arts. Cage
fighting.”
“You were a cage fighter?”
“Yeah. Mike had a finger in lots
of pies. Didn’t know he was a psycho back then, though. He got
hold of the Semtex.”
“ Semtex ?”
“Plastic explosive. For blowing
up safes.”
“I know what Semtex is!” A
thought struck me. “So is it gold in your backpack?”
“Gold and diamonds. Krugerrands,
other coins like Britannias and sovereigns, bit of museum gold, and
18 carat jewellery.”
“No wonder it’s heavy. Was
that your share of the loot? Wow.”
He gave me a dark look, as if there was
more he could have said, but had decided not to. I wondered what he
was concealing. He stared into his glass, drained it and changed the
subject. “So what about you? What are you doing here with this
bunch of losers?”
I thought this rather unkind, and said
so. “I wouldn’t call them that. They’re just
ordinary people, coping with an extraordinary situation they didn’t
bargain for.”
He laughed. “They’re going
to be dead in five years, and they’re squabbling over solar
tulips.”
“They won’t necessarily be
dead in five years. They haven’t done too badly so far.”
“Their skill sets are about equal
to running a charity car boot sale. In nearly a year none of you have
set up a generator. You could have electricity, the petrol’s
there for the taking – all those underground car parks full of
cars. Why haven’t you got solar panels for melting snow and
heating water? Look around a bit and you’ll find them. Set up a
greenhouse, you could grow fresh vegetables. Another thing, what
happens if a more enterprising neighbourhood gang decide to drop in
and co-opt your supplies, all neatly stacked up waiting for them,
huh? Got any defence plans? Weapons? I thought not. Two men with baseball bats could walk
all over you.”
Call me naïve, but this had
genuinely not occurred to me. It’s so isolated here in the
middle of London, I’d never thought of people who might harm us
turning up. I’d sometimes reflected how nice it was, not to
bother with locking the flat when I was out – so different from
the old London, where lock it or lose it was the rule. My balcony
door only locks from the inside, anyway. When I’m out anyone
can walk in. Obviously Morgan was right; there was no law left in
England, nothing to protect the weak from the strong; it could
happen. The thought of raiders beating me up and taking my food and
firewood was scary. I could at least have hidden my reserves in
different places, not kept them all together in my flat and the flat
next door. I started to ask him how his gang interacted with people
they came across as they moved around; but he hadn’t finished.
“And what strategy have you got
for when it gets worse? From what I’ve seen, you lot are
working your butts off just to maintain the status quo. You’re
none of you risk-takers – maybe with the exception of you,
Tori.” He eyed me
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