Chapter 83
10 years AC
‘LeMan 49/25a’ - ClarenCo Gas Rig Complex,
North Sea
Leona tripped, stumbled and spat a curse as
she rubbed her barked shin. She could hear the distant rattle of
firing and voices screaming. Where she was, at the opposite end of
the row of rigs, standing on the main deck of the primary
compression platform with Rebecca and Claire, they’d spotted the
flicker of a floodlight lancing up from the sea. Leona had decided
they should stay where they were, keeping a vigil at this end of
their archipelago. Just in case. But then things had suddenly
kicked off all the way over there and she cursed the fact they were
too far away to be able to help out.
Her feet slammed down the walkway, Rebecca behind
her clutching her bra-and-bungee cord catapult - for what it was
worth - in both hands. They emerged onto the main deck of the
accommodation platform, turned right, skirting the edge of the deck
to avoid tangling with any obstacles.
People were spilling out of their cabins,
brandishing their home-made weapons, and heading towards the noise.
Leona converged with them, pushing and stumbling along the walkway
cage towards the second compression platform, towards the sound of
gunfire.
She emerged from the cage moments later, and then
weaved her way across the platform’s main deck until she could see
the far side, and the next walkway. Across the dark empty space
between platforms, she watched for a moment. Trying to make out the
situation. She saw some flickers of light, and the occasional flash
of gunfire, but nothing that clearly explained how things were. She
suspected the shots were coming from the furthest platform.
Rebecca hunkered down next to her, wheezing from
the sprint thus far.
‘Can you see anything?’
‘I think they’re on drilling. Come on,’ she said,
stepping onto the walkway taking them across with the sound of her
heavy steps ringing in her ears.
They emerged twenty seconds later onto the firm
deck of the production platform into a confusion of panicking
people, some scrambling past her to head back along the cage away
from the fighting. She pushed her way through the mingling confused
bodies and crossed the deck, catching sight of the skirmish going
on ahead of her.
Along the edge of the deck she could see Adam and
his men, and one or two of the old men - Howard, Bill, Dennis -
firing potshots across the void between platforms at the boys on
the far side. They, too, were firing back, sparks erupting from the
deck, from the vent stacks and deck lockers the men were huddled
behind.
She felt a puff of air on her cheek, heard a
metallic clang against the metal wall beside her head and a hot
spark jumped onto her bare arm.
‘Ouch!’ she yelped before instinctively dropping to
her hands and knees. She crawled across the deck until she was
huddled beside one of Adam’s men.
She recognised his outline. ‘Bushey! It’s
Leona.’
He turned and grinned manically at her before
turning back to aim down the barrel of his assault rifle. ‘The
little shites surprised us!’ He fired two aimed shots one after the
other, the hot bullet casings almost landing in her lap.
‘Where’s my mum?’
‘Dunno, she’s somewhere along here,’ he said,
firing again.
Leona craned her neck, looking down along the row
of people cowering behind assorted cover, in two groups either side
of the walkway cage. She picked out the huddled forms of Walfield,
Howard, Sophie and one of her sisters and Dennis. She saw Alice and
her friend Rowan both blindly flinging walnut-sized rivets across
the void with their catapults. She picked out Adam in the group to
the right of the walkway entrance, aiming and firing methodically,
Martha loading up a dainty lace bra cup with another
projectile.
She looked down the length of the walkway and
thought she could pick out the detestable orange flash of those
jackets, several of them, lying prone along the first thirty feet
of it.
Bodies. They’d already made a first attempt to
force their way across it and failed.
On the far side of the walkway, amongst the clutter
of the drilling platform’s deck, she saw the strobe-flicker of
muzzle flashes from their guns and heads bobbing in and out of
sight.
They’re stuck. She found herself grinning.
Adam was right. The caged walkways were turning out to be perfect
choke-points.
The firing on both sides began to ease off.
She looked around for Rebecca, assuming she was
still with her, but she must have gone to ground somewhere else.
Leona decided to press on. See if she could find Mum. Taking
advantage of the lull in firing, she crawled on hands and knees,
from one huddled person to the next, then, waiting for a moment of
calm, she leapt across the open space beside the walkway’s entrance
and a second later joined the others, hunkering down behind a long
and low mechanical store locker, gasping for breath.
Jenny looked down at her, panting on the floor
beside her. ‘Lee! Christ! I thought I told you to stay back! Are
you all right? You okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Leona huffed, trying to catch her
breath. She swallowed, sucked in more air. ‘What’s happened?’
‘They pulled up in a boat,’ replied Adam. ‘Maxwell
tried distracting us. The rest of his boys were already waiting
underneath. Then it all kicked off.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘We
should have had everyone on that far platform instead of
spread out. We might have spotted the rest of them sneaking
under.’
Leona pulled herself onto her hands and knees and
stole a look round the edge of the storage locker. ‘But they’re
stuck there now, right?’
Adam nodded. ‘For now.’ Adam turned to Jenny.
‘There’s no way up onto the other platforms, right?’
She shook her head. ‘The other platforms are much,
much higher. They’d need us to lower them something to get
aboard.’
‘Then sod it, this is fine,’ he said, trying a
reassuring smile on them. ‘We’ve got them plugged right
here.’
Maxwell glared at Jay-zee. ‘Are you calling me a
liar? Is that it?’
Jay-zee met his challenging stare. ‘Shit, man, you
said this place was all powered up. That’s what you fuckin’ told
us!’
A dozen of the praetorians crouching nearby glanced
at them, eyes switching from Jay-Zee to Maxwell as they
spoke.
‘Man, you tol’ us this place was lit up like some
fuckin’ light show. All I see is the whole thing is dark as shit.
There’s no fuckin’ power here!’
Christ. This is it, thought Maxwell. The
bloody challenge. He suspected it was going to come from one of
the older boys, if not Edward himself, but not right in the middle
of a bloody battle. The alcohol from that sugary fruit crap mixed
with what must be a tidal flood of adrenalin surging through his
veins had made Jay-zee wired.
Maxwell looked at the others nearby. They were, all
of them, wide-eyed, talking ten to the dozen, chomping chewing gum
in a dry mouth, stoned on adrenalin and buzzing like violin
strings; hungry little tiger cubs looking for a gazelle to pull
down and tear apart.
‘You ever talk to me like that again,
Jay-zee, I’ll kill you myself!’
The boys recoiled uncertainly.
‘The lights are all out, you idiot, because these
people were warned we were coming. They didn’t want to stand out
like some fucking beacon. That’s why everything is off!’
Uncertainty made Jay-zee waver; robbed his defiant
posture of some of its challenge.
Something heavy pinged and rattled off a wall near
to him. He flinched and ducked. His tall frame made him easier to
see than anyone else. He crouched down to make sure his head wasn’t
a target that could be picked out from the platform across the
gap.
Another clatter nearby. Maxwell ducked this time. A
nugget of pitted metal bounced and rolled across the deck and ended
up rocking to and fro in front of his foot. Those silly bitches
were throwing nuts and bolts at them like frigging peanuts. That
would have been laughable if he hadn’t already witnessed one of his
boys knocked senseless - left with a gushing cut across his scalp
by one of those projectiles.
Jay-zee was still defiant. ‘This place ain’t worth
this shit!’
Maxwell pointed up to a bulb dangling above the
walkway entrance, and loops of sagging power flex dangling from
ties all the way down the wire cage to the far side. ‘See the
cables?’
Jay-zee looked up, frowned and nodded.
‘All of you boys?’ Maxwell raised his voice for the
benefit of those crouching nearby. ‘Do you see these cables?’
They nodded.
‘It means they’ve got power. All right? Plenty of
it. Why else would they be living out here on a bloody rig? They’re
tapping oil or gas or whatever’s down there. And I’m telling you
now they’ll have more fuel down there than we can ever use! All
right?’
Some of the boys began to nod, reassured the Chief
knew what he was doing and hadn’t led them down a dead end.
‘In an hour’s time we’ll have this place LIT UP
LIKE A FUCKING CHRISTMAS TREE! ALL RIGHT?!!’
Some of their uncertain faces split with grins, the
buzz of excitement flooding back.
Maxwell looked for Edward’s face and found him,
listening in, and so far staying quiet.
‘Isn’t that right, Edward . . . Snoop?’
The boys all turned as one to look at him, studying
his face, his reaction, wanting to know what to think.
‘Am I right?’ said Maxwell.
Snoop finally pursed his lips and shrugged. ‘Yeah,
reckon they got power.’
‘Right then.’ Maxwell nodded towards the walkway.
The bodies of three of his boys lay there, one behind the other.
That little pit bull Notori-us was one of them, charging across
like a rabid dog let off a leash, drawing fire and spinning like a
cartwheel as he went down. If a few more of his boys had been
equally fired-up and been following in his wake they probably would
have made it across and already overrun those bitches on the far
side by now.
‘So, boys. We need to figure out a way across that.
They’ve got it covered.’
Snoop looked around the cluttered deck. Most of the
boys were up here now, clustered in groups amongst the Portakabins
and looking anxiously at him and Maxwell to figure out something
for them. Snoop’s eye rested on a supermarket shopping trolley
knocked over on its side, spilling its load of plastic seed trays
filled with compost and little green shoots of something-or-other
across the deck.
‘Got an idea, Chief.’