Blood Roots: Are the roots strong enough to save the pandemic survivors? (15 page)

Greg entered the room. He was panting from the exertion of dragging his obese body up the Great Staircase.

‘The portcullises are up,’ he announced as he slumped into a chair beside Damian.

‘Yes, she’s dead,’ Jasper confirmed, ignoring the interruption and looking squarely at Steven, ‘and you caused her death.’

The anguish showed on Steven’s face.

‘That’s right,’ Jasper continued. ‘She delivered you the key that enabled your escape, and then she dropped it into the reservoir as you told her to. And for the crime of helping you escape, my father ordered her execution.’

Like everyone else, Steven had loved his Great Aunt Margaret. He was devastated. But he felt even worse when Jasper added, ‘And
the next person to be executed will be Allison.’

‘No!’

‘Yes.’ All three brothers were nodding.

‘But why?’

‘No questions,’ Damian yelled.

‘She deserted my father,’ Jasper said.

‘She didn’t desert him. My father forced her to leave. And she’s pregnant,’ Steven pleaded, looking desperately at Virginia. She showed no emotion and offered no support.

‘We don’t want any bastard child of hers in Haver either,’ Damian said.

Jasper nodded in agreement and stood up. ‘Right,’ he said, nodding to Damian and Greg, ‘sling him in the cell with the others.’ Then he turned to Steven and added, ‘You can tell that bitch Allison she’s going to the block Sunday morning at seven o’clock.’

‘You can’t. Please … Your Lordship.’

‘I can, and you’d better stop arguing, or I’ll add a few more to be executed, including Penny and that son of hers.’

Jasper took Virginia’s arm. Damian and Greg bowed as the couple left the room. Steven felt obliged to do the same.

‘Get going,’ Damian said to Steven, pointing with his pistol to the door leading from the ballroom to the Grand Staircase.

As they descended the steps Steven’s mind was racing. ‘What day is it?’ he asked.

‘Thursday, of course,’ Greg replied.

‘You only speak when you’re spoken to,’ Damian snapped, his annoyance at Greg’s reply to Steven evident in his tone.

Steven was relieved. They were using the same calendar as he was. He had three days to change Jasper’s mind.

He followed Greg through the Great Hall, across Flag Court and up the spiral staircase of Cromwell’s Tower. Several times Damian jabbed him in the back with his pistol, even though he was as close behind Greg as he could be. Greg unlocked the cell door and Damian pushed Steven through.

He could see Allison lying on the floor. Penny was hunched over her. Luke was sitting on the floor with his arms protectively around
Lee and David. ‘We need food and drink,’ he said.

‘And we need blankets and a mattress for Allison,’ Penny added.

‘You’re joking!’ Damian snorted.

‘If we don’t get them, she might die. Your brother won’t be that pleased, given what he has in mind,’ Steven said angrily.

‘You can have food, drink and blankets,’ Damian grunted, ‘but no mattress.’

‘Give them the good news,’ Greg said as he slammed and locked the door.

‘What good news?’ said Luke.

Steven didn’t answer. He knelt down beside Allison. ‘How are you?’

‘She can’t hear you, she keeps passing out,’ Penny explained. ‘Damian kicked her.’

‘He what?’

‘She fell as she entered the cell and he kicked her because she had taken so long to get up the stairs.’

‘What is it Jasper has in mind — what’s the good news they’re talking about?’ Luke asked again. Still Steven did not answer.

Penny started to cry. ‘They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?’

‘No,’ Steven assured her quietly. He was relieved Allison was unconscious. ‘They’re threatening Allison, and we have to think of some way …’ Allison groaned and opened her eyes.

‘How do you feel?’ Steven asked.

‘Terrible. How long have you been back?’

‘Just a couple of minutes.’

‘What did you find out?’

‘Practically nothing. Nigel’s obviously dead though.’

‘Good,’ Luke said.

‘I’m not sure Jasper’s any better than his father was.’

They heard sounds on the stairs. The door opened and Jennifer walked in, carrying two buckets and a tin mug. Greg followed, pistol in hand.

‘This bucket’s empty,’ Luke complained.

‘It’s your piss pot,’ Jennifer said.

Susan lumbered in, breathing heavily. She dropped a bundle of blankets on the floor and bent down to massage her arthritic knees.

‘What about food?’ Steven asked.

‘You’ll get some later — if there are any scraps left over after lunch,’ Greg replied.

‘Don’t think I’m climbing up those stairs again,’ Susan grumbled. ‘My knees ain’t ’alf giving me gyp.’

‘There you are, then,’ Greg, laughed. ‘You can’t have any food because she’s too lazy to carry it up to you.’

‘I didn’t mean it,’ Susan said, looking shamefacedly at her cousins. ‘Are you all right, Allison?’ she asked.

Penny spoke for her. ‘She’s only just come round, she passed out.’

‘Did she faint when you gave her the news?’ Greg laughed.

‘She passed out because your brother kicked her,’ Steven said angrily.

‘We need food,’ Penny said to Greg. ‘Please. The children are starving, so are the rest of us. What if it were you?’

‘Maybe later.’

He ushered Jennifer and Susan out of the room and slammed and locked the cell door behind him.

‘This water’s horrible, it’s dirty,’ Lee complained. He’d dipped the tin mug in the bucket and helped himself to a drink.

Steven looked in the bucket, took the mug from Lee and took a sip. ‘It’s weak beer,’ he explained. ‘Don’t you remember, we used to drink it when we were here before?’

The little boy shook his head. He couldn’t remember. ‘Can’t I have water instead?’

‘No, the water in the reservoir’s contaminated, probably from the sewers. The brewing process helps purify it.’ He handed the mug back to the little boy and ruffled his hair. ‘You’ll soon get used to it again.’

‘What was the news Greg referred to?’ Allison asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Steven lied. ‘They were saying all sorts of nonsense during my interrogation.’

‘They’re going to kill me,’ Allison said softly.

‘I’m sure they won’t.’

‘Tell me the truth.’

Steven stared down at the floor. ‘They made all sorts of silly threats.’

‘And they’re going to kill my baby too.’

‘I’m sure they won’t.’

It was Penny not Allison who started crying. ‘What are we going to do?’ she sobbed as she stroked Allison’s head.

Steven began checking out the room, as he had done when he had been imprisoned there the first time, just over three years previously. The windows were shuttered to stop the prisoners seeing out, but Steven and Mark had drilled tiny peepholes in the shutters during their imprisonment. Behind the shutters lay metal bars. The door was thick and solid, with a crude metal hatch inset to allow food to be passed through.

No lunch arrived. Steven and Luke checked and rechecked the cell. There was no escape. The remains of the shards of glass that had showered into the room when Nigel had taken a pot shot at Steven and Mark during their first imprisonment were still wedged above the shutters, but the larger shards had been used to drill the peepholes and only a few small pieces remained — insufficient to fashion a weapon.

When he wasn’t helping to amuse the two children, Steven spent his time looking through the peepholes, identifying his cousins. He was relieved to see his Uncle Paul’s daughters Cheryl and Bridget. Cheryl was pregnant and, like Allison, looked as if she was due quite soon. He was surprised she was pregnant — surely she was in her early forties too. He wondered who the father of Cheryl’s baby could be.

As it drew dark, Steven outlined a plan to the others. He knew it was flimsy, but at least it gave them something to cling to.

Allison was feeling dreadful, with sharp abdominal pains. As a trained nurse she feared the worst, though she didn’t express her fears.

They made her as comfortable as they could. Susan had provided six blankets, one for each of the prisoners. Four blankets had been folded and placed under Allison to form a thin mattress, and the other two were on top, keeping her warm. She was as comfortable as they could make her.

Later, there was a clatter of footsteps on the stairwell. They heard the door being unlocked and Susan walked in carrying a bucket of scraps, escorted by Greg. He was nervous and had his pistol drawn.

‘Allison wants to talk to you,’ Steven said.

‘I don’t want to talk to her,’ Greg responded. ‘Why should I?’

‘Because it’s in your best interests.’

Greg laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ Allison asked, staring up from the floor.

‘Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?’ he smirked.

‘I’m serious. I want to look at your complexion and your pupils.’

‘What’s wrong with my complexion and pupils?’

‘Your complexion’s pallid and your pupils are dilated. Come here and let me have a proper look at you.’

‘You must think I’m daft,’ Greg said. Instead of approaching her he backed away towards the door and held his pistol higher, pointing it alternately at Luke and Steven.

‘I’m a trained nurse, don’t forget. Damian looks ill to me too. Has there been any sickness or dysentery at Haver recently?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure.’

‘Well, I’ll tell you this,’ Allison said firmly. ‘By the looks of you and Damian, I’ll be very surprised if you aren’t both really sick within three days or so.’

‘Well, you won’t be around to know, will you?’

‘Maybe she should be,’ Steven said, trying to sound casual. ‘She’s a trained nurse, remember?’

‘You must think I’m really stupid,’ Greg scorned.

‘Suit yourself,’ Steven said. He picked up the piss pot and held it out to Susan.

She refused to take it. ‘It’s not full.’

‘It stinks.’

‘So it stinks.’

‘The smell’s making Allison ill.’ There was pleading in his eyes.

‘If I take it away you won’t have a piss pot. I’m not coming up those stairs again.’

‘We’ll use the bucket you brought the food in.’ He thrust the bucket towards her again. ‘Please.’

‘Come on,’ Greg snapped.

Susan took the bucket and followed Greg out of the room. The key turned in the lock and they heard her grumbling as she followed him down the stairs.

‘Do you think it worked?’ Penny asked.

‘He didn’t seem convinced to me,’ Luke replied. ‘There obviously hasn’t been any illness at Haver.’

‘We’ve planted a seed in Greg’s mind. He’ll start remembering things. There’s bound to have been illness of some sort at Haver over the last few weeks,’ Steven said, trying his best to lift their spirits.

‘The trouble is,’ Allison said softly, ‘when I said they would be sick in about three days’ time or so, he said I wouldn’t be here.’ She grimaced with pain. ‘It will be at least three days before the typhoid kicks in. That was clever of you getting the piss pot emptied into the sewers, but I’m not sure it will work. They’re not drinking the water, they’re brewing beer from it.’

‘I’m sure they’ll still be using the water from the reservoir to wash themselves, pots and pans, utensils, fruit and vegetables and what have you.’

‘It’ll still take time for people to catch it and get sick. So when is my execution planned for?’ Steven didn’t answer. ‘I want to know,’ she insisted.

Penny struggled to hold back the tears.

‘Sunday.’

‘Then we’ll just have to get it postponed,’ Luke said. ‘It’s our only chance for them to need Allison’s nursing skills, and spare her.’

‘Do they think we’re daft?’ Jasper laughed. Accompanying his laughter was a hint of anger.

The three Chatfield brothers were lounging in the Warwick Gallery. With them were Virginia Steed and her attractive fifteen-year-old twin daughters Amy and Beatrice. All three women were, like the three Chatfield brothers dressed in well-tailored clothes. Their finery matched the setting. The thirty yard long gallery was furnished with richly embroidered seventeenth-century furniture, its walls lined with portraits of British monarchs. Greg had just told them of Allison’s diagnosis.

‘The only reason your pupils are dilated is because you’re always pissed,’ Damian scoffed.

‘She said your pupils were dilated too.’

‘Same reason,’ Jasper laughed. Like his brothers, he was swigging down his after-dinner wine.

‘If you’re worried, Greg, we could get Theresa to have a look at
you,’ Virginia suggested. ‘Diana was training her to be a doctor.’

Jasper waved his hand dismissively. ‘They’re at some kind of game. They’re playing for time. They’re just trying to get me to delay Allison’s execution.’

Damian belched. ‘And we’re not going to fall for that.’

‘I did have the runs earlier in the week,’ Greg said thoughtfully.

‘You’re always getting the runs,’ Jasper reminded him. ‘You pig down too much food too fast. That’s why you’re so fat.’

‘I think you should spare Allison’s life,’ Beatrice said softly.

‘No way,’ Jasper grunted.

‘She’s a trained nurse.’

Virginia cast her daughter a glance, telegraphing ‘don’t you dare argue with him’.

Jasper jutted his chin forward. ‘All she’s trained in is being a whore. She had an affair behind my father’s back with that bastard Mark.’

Beatrice looked down at the floor. In the month following his recapture of Haver, Jasper had taken revenge for the treatment he had received at the hands of the new leader, Diana Morgan, by systematically raping every female above the age of fourteen, including Amy and Beatrice. The revenge that Damian had enacted on the young boys of the community had been even more despicable. And Greg had started out to emulate his brother Jasper’s feat, but he had fallen in love with Amy and never completed the assignment.

Jasper was desperate for a son to continue the Chatfield dynasty. Virginia was the most beautiful woman at Haver, but she had not given him a boy — in fact she had not given him a child of any kind. He had forced both Amy and Beatrice to sleep with him several times, without their mother’s knowledge. The sisters knew he was also still sleeping with other women in the community, including Jennifer, who was past child-bearing age, belying his statement to them that he was only sleeping with other women because he needed a son. They guessed he had also been sleeping with their cousin Cheryl, since he was showing an unusual interest in the progress of her pregnancy. At least that made sense: Cheryl already had two sons, Ruben and Harry.

Both young women were frightened to tell their mother of Jasper’s infidelity because they were worried she would confront him, endangering not only her position in the community but also their tenuous one. ‘Well, at least delay the execution till after she’s had her baby,’ Beatrice pleaded.

Damian belched again. ‘What’s the point?’ he challenged. ‘It’ll only mean another head for me to chop off.’

Disgusted, Beatrice stormed from the room. The look of thunder on Jasper’s face was matched by the look on Virginia’s.

Allison went into labour in the early hours of the following morning.

‘I’ll see if I can summon help,’ Steven said.

‘No,’ Allison replied quickly. ‘They won’t send anyone anyway. I’ll be all right — I’ve done this before. I’ll tell you what to do.’

The moon was bright and sufficient light filtered above the shutters for them all to see the agony on Allison’s face. It was a terrible birth. Penny, who had two children of her own, became increasingly alarmed as her cousin fought to bring her baby into the world. She was convinced Damian’s kick had caused complications.

Finally, after hours of agony and effort, the baby appeared. ‘It’s a boy,’ Penny announced as she cut the umbilical cord with a shard of glass. She slapped the baby on the back and it started crying. ‘Allison, you’ve got a beautiful healthy baby boy,’ she said. There was no reply. Lee and David looked on open-mouthed.

‘She’s passed out again,’ Luke said.

‘There’s so much blood,’ Penny said, sounding desperate. ‘And it’s still coming.’ Steven shook Allison gently. She opened her eyes momentarily. ‘You’ve got a baby boy,’ he said. She tried to talk but Steven couldn’t hear her words. He leant over her and put his ear beside her lips. ‘What did you say?’

‘Save my son,’ she whispered. ‘Save your father’s son.’ Then there was silence. Even in the dim light they all knew she had died.

Everyone was crying, overwhelmed by grief.

‘What did she say before she died?’ Luke asked finally.

‘She asked me to make sure the baby was safe.’

Penny started crying again. ‘They’ll kill the baby,’ she sobbed. ‘I know they will. They’ll do it out of spite, if for no other reason than the fact they can no longer execute Allison.’

Greg and Susan returned to the cell shortly after the clock in Cromwell’s Tower struck the chimes of ten o’clock. Greg heard crying as he unlocked the door.

‘This had better not be another one of your tricks,’ he threatened.

‘It doesn’t sound like a trick to me,’ Susan mumbled. She could hear the children crying too. She staggered in carrying two buckets, one holding left-over scraps from the breakfast table. She glanced across at the body lying on the floor with a blanket covering it.

‘Allison’s dead,’ Luke announced.

‘This had better not be another one of your tricks!’ Greg said again. He hesitated. ‘Get over in the corner,’ he shouted, waving his pistol at the prisoners. They backed away. He kicked the body with his foot and seemed to sense immediately that Luke wasn’t lying. Then he pulled back the blanket. Allison’s corpse stared up at him. He backed away as if frightened, then quickly recovered his composure, pointing his gun at the prisoners. ‘She was going to die anyway.’

‘What about the baby?’ Susan asked.

‘It’s still inside her,’ Penny explained. ‘It’s dead too. Damian’s kick must have killed it.’

Greg retched, then vomited.

‘She bled to death,’ Steven said soberly. He turned to Susan. ‘Can you get rid of these blankets? They’re soaked through with her blood.’ He held out the bundle of stained blankets and Susan instinctively backed away. ‘Take care of them, please,’ he insisted. She took the bundle, turned and hurried from the room.

‘Hey, what’s the rush?’ Greg challenged. He had never seen Susan move so fast.

‘Infection,’ she replied. ‘We can’t risk infection.’

They could hear the clattering of her footsteps on the stone stairs. It must have been painful for her to move so fast with her arthritic knees.

Suddenly, crying echoed up the stairwell. Greg looked suspiciously towards the door. ‘What do you expect?’ Steven shouted, drowning out the sound. ‘Your brother’s just killed her cousin.’

Luke and Penny took Steven’s cue and began shouting at Greg too. Unnerved, he fired his gun in the air.

As Damian and Jasper ran across Flag Court they passed Susan hurrying in the opposite direction. They’d heard Greg’s pistol shot and were unfastening their own weapons as they ran.

‘I thought you were supposed to be with Greg,’ Jasper shouted as he ran past her.

‘I was with him. Allison’s dead. Greg told me to get rid of these blankets. They’re soaked through with blood.’

‘What about her baby?’

‘It died too — it was never born.’

As Jasper and Damian ran to Cromwell’s Tower, the sound of muffled crying escaped from the bundle of blankets. Susan started to wail and pulled the bundle close, Allison’s blood seeping into her clothing. Jasper glanced back momentarily, but saw her shoulders heaving and carried on towards the tower.

By the time Jasper and Damian reached the third floor cell the situation had calmed.

‘What happened?’ Jasper demanded.

‘They were threatening me, so I had to fire my pistol,’ Greg lied.

‘No one was threatening you,’ Steven said. ‘We were just angry you didn’t treat Allison’s body with respect.’

‘The bitch didn’t deserve any respect after what she did to my father,’ Damian said. ‘Pity there’ll only be one execution now.’

‘The baby died too,’ Penny retorted. ‘It’s still inside her.’

‘I don’t mean the baby. I mean him,’ Damian said, pointing his pistol at Steven.

Everyone, including Jasper and Greg, were taken by surprise.

‘My father sentenced him to death, in case you’ve all forgotten.’

‘No!’ Penny screamed.

‘Executing Steven doesn’t make sense,’ Luke said bravely. ‘Like
Uncle Mark always says, our survival’s all a question of genes and increasing the population.’

‘Mark, and what he thinks, is of no relevance here,’ Jasper snapped. ‘The only opinion that matters at Haver is mine.’

‘Which means he’ll die,’ Damian said.

‘That’s right,’ Greg agreed.

‘I said, the only person whose opinion matters here is mine,’ Jasper barked, rounding angrily on his two brothers. ‘Now arrange to get that body out of here.’

‘I’d like to go to Allison’s funeral,’ Luke said.

‘We all would,’ Steven added.

Damian opened his mouth to speak then, still smarting from his brother’s rebuke, closed it again.

‘There won’t be a funeral,’ Jasper responded. His words were icy cold. ‘She’ll get the same treatment as that bitch Diana gave my father.’

They all wondered what Diana had done to Nigel, and what was going to happen to Allison’s body.

‘Right, get on with it,’ Jasper snapped, motioning to his brothers. Then he turned to Steven. ‘I’ll let you know the date of your execution in due course.’ Penny started to cry. ‘And I’ll also be deciding what’s going to happen to the rest of you.’

The brothers hurried from the room.

‘What are we going to do?’ Penny sobbed when the three brothers were out of earshot.

‘I don’t believe Jasper wants to execute me at all,’ Steven said.

Luke looked at him quizzically. ‘What makes you so sure?’

‘It wasn’t his idea for a start. Something’s gone on here while we’ve been away — something between Jasper and Damian. Did you notice the way Jasper rounded on his brothers? They were as thick as thieves when we were here before, they always supported one another. They’re not that way now.’

Penny had calmed down a little. ‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to try and speak to Jasper alone. But first I need to find out what’s happened here while we’ve been away.’

Luke walked over to the shuttered windows and stared through the peephole. ‘It’s going to be difficult to find out anything locked in here.’

Moments later they heard the door at the bottom of the tower being thrown open and footsteps clattering up the stairs. The door to the cell was unlocked again and Duncan and Paul walked in. Paul carried a tarpaulin. Greg stood just outside the room with his pistol drawn as if he was afraid of the corpse.

‘It’s good to see you, Steven,’ Paul said as his nephew embraced him.

‘You won’t be seeing him for long,’ Greg sneered. ‘Anyway, cut out all that touchy-feely stuff,’ he continued, motioning towards Allison’s body, ‘and get that out of here.’

Duncan and Paul laid the tarpaulin on the floor and began to lift the corpse.

‘I’ll give you a hand,’ Steven said.

‘They can do it themselves,’ Greg grunted.

‘They need a hand.’

‘I told you to get back.’

‘If we’re not careful we’re going to have blood and guts and God knows what all over the floor. Do you want to help them or shall I?’ Steven said angrily.

Greg’s resolve crumbled. He motioned to Steven to help.

‘Where’s my brother and everyone else?’ Paul whispered as they laboured to lift Allison’s corpse onto the tarpaulin.

‘Still in New Zealand.’

Paul was confused. ‘How come Allison came to England without Mark?’

‘He didn’t know she was coming.’

‘What’s been going on?’

‘Come here tonight, I’ll tell you then. I need information.’

Paul shook his head. ‘Too risky.’

‘Please. Use the secret passage.’ Steven whispered as they started to wrap the body.

‘I can’t. Cheryl’s due to give birth any day.’

‘Please — Jasper’s threatening to execute me.’

‘Stop that whispering!’ Greg yelled. With the corpse secured in the tarpaulin he’d come into the room and was pointing the gun at Steven.

Paul looked up. ‘We were just saying the Lord’s Prayer.’

‘Well don’t. You know religion’s banned.’

Luke and Steven both offered to help carry Allison down the stairs, but Greg would have none of it.

‘Where are we burying her?’ Duncan asked as he and Paul struggled through the doorway with the tarpaulin.

‘You’re not burying her. His Lordship says you can do the same with her as the pair of you did with my father’s body.’ His voice was full of revenge.

As it grew dark, Steven watched the lights come on around both Lawn and Flag Courts. There were only dimly lit bulbs in the peasants’ quarters around Lawn Court, but the state rooms beyond Flag Court seemed to be floodlit. Each time the clock chimed the hour, three figures would emerge from the peasants’ quarters and hurry around the gravel path before disappearing beneath Cromwell’s Tower. Seconds later, three other figures would emerge from beneath the tower and tramp wearily back to their quarters. Steven surmised that his relatives were changing shifts on the power-generating treadmills in the Punishment Room at the foot of the tower. Susan had told him that the original treadmill had been replaced by three bicycle-powered units to generate even more power, but the Chatfield brothers still used more than their fair share. The lights around Lawn Court were turned out early as the exhausted residents turned in for the night. At about ten forty-five the last of the stateroom lights were extinguished too. No fresh figures emerged from Lawn Court as the clock struck eleven. Steven heard the sound of a door closing at the foot of the tower and then saw the shadowy outline of three figures plod around the gravel path. He concluded that the final treadmill shift was off to bed.