Tony Littlejohns - The Hoffmann Plague

‘I was just thinking; are we sure we’re going to be able to get into this place? I mean, if it’s a gun store then security’s going to be bloody good, isn’t it? Do you think a wrecking bar and bolt cutters are going to be enough?’

‘Hmm… You could be right. Good thinking, Batman! I’ll bring the welding gear, too.’ She grinned at him. He climbed from the cab and got the small oxy-acetylene bottles on their wheeled rack then hoisted them into the back of the truck. He also picked up the welding face mask, some leather gauntlets, a leather apron and a flint striker to light the torch. Jane opened the garage door for him to drive out, closing it again after him.

Driving along the new link road they were there in less than fifteen minutes. They had an address for the gun-supplies store on The Ridge West, but turned left initially at the roundabout and had to double back once they realised they’d gone the wrong way, before finding it. They drove onto the drive of a large house with a shop to one side and got out; Jamie sounded the horn several times but there was no one around. Security was very good; understandable given the nature of the premises. Behind the door and windows was a security roller shutter and there was little chance they could have broken through it with just the tools they had originally planned to take. Jamie got back in the truck and repositioned it with the tow-bar pointing at the middle of the door, then reversed into it. The glass in the door was obviously toughened as it didn’t shatter, but the tow-bar had punched a hole through and cracked the surrounding glass.

He pulled the truck forward, got out, and then with the wrecking bar and hammer he was able to remove the glass from the door frame. He unloaded the gas bottles, put on the face mask, apron and gloves, lit the welding torch and then cut an entrance through the shutter big enough for them to get through. They put Max back in the cab because of the broken glass then went inside.

There were many racks with new and used shotguns, hunting rifles and air rifles, along with boxes of ammunition of every description on shelves. After searching for a while, Jamie located the size of cartridge suitable for their guns and they carried many boxes in varying shot sizes out to the truck, both for them and for Bill. He also found boxes of AAA cartridges, which was large buckshot; each pellet was around 5mm diameter and they would be very effective against large game. He selected a nice over and under shotgun to give to Bill as a second gun, broke it open and loaded it with two AAA cartridges then closed it and slid the safety catch on. They had four shotguns already, so didn’t really need any more.

‘What about a couple of hunting rifles with telescopic sights?’ suggested Jane. ‘They could be useful.’

‘Good idea; you’re right.’ He grinned at her.

He didn’t know anything about rifles and the variation in calibres was rather bewildering: a rifle would be chambered for a specific type and calibre of round. Looking at the shelves of ammunition there were boxes of .223 Remington, 30-06 Springfield and over fifteen other calibres.

He chose a calibre that he’d heard of from films and books, which was .308 Winchester. He checked carefully to find two rifles chambered for that round and found two Howa Hunter rifles with lovely walnut stocks, which he took out to the truck, along with bags for the guns and many boxes of ammunition. He also picked out a few books from the shelf on rifles and shooting, along with manuals for the two guns, just as he had done with the shotguns; it would be worth reading up on them so they knew how to maintain them properly.

They got back in the cab, started the truck and headed off to Battle. They got there within ten minutes and drove slowly past Battle Abbey, where they saw the remains of two corpses on the pavement by the gates: a pair of crows were picking at them. They continued up the high street, looking around: almost every shop had been broken into and glass littered the pavements, along with much rubbish, leading Jamie to wonder if there were more survivors here, as it was something they hadn’t encountered as much of in Bexhill.

‘Doesn’t necessarily follow, though;’ said Jane, ‘it could have been just one person did it.’

‘Yes, that’s true.’

They carried on slowly up the hill, turned around by Mount Street and parked outside the country clothing shop, whose door was broken and standing open. They got out, leaving Max in the cab again because of broken glass on the pavement, and entered the shop. Jane carried her shotgun by its strap on her shoulder, but Jamie left his in the cab with Max. Looking through the racks of clothing, they found Barbour waxed jackets in their sizes and tried them on. Jane put on a Barbour hat, too, and posed with her shotgun and a smile on her face.

‘What d’you reckon, Jamie? D’you think I’ll fit in with the Sussex hunting set?’

He grinned and chuckled. ‘Oh, I think you’ll do. In fact, at the moment, we probably are the Sussex hunting set!’ They both laughed.

They picked out some comfortable moleskin trousers, various shirts, a couple of hats and some waxed over-trousers, along with two coats each and several tins of re-proofing wax. They carried them out to the truck and Jane got into the cab. Jamie was securing the tailgate when he heard movement behind him. He turned and saw four young men coming from the alley beside the shop. They were in their late teens or early twenties and all four were armed; two with baseball bats, one with a hammer and one with a machete.

They stopped a few yards from him. He knew they were trouble and weighed up the situation, thinking that his sawn-off was in his rucksack in the cab. They’d only been a few yards away while in the shop so hadn’t thought to take both guns in with them. The new shotgun was loaded and within reach, but he didn’t think he’d be able to spin round and pick it up in time so he waited, counting on Jane. The guy with the machete spoke first.

‘Take that stuff out and put it back, mate. This is our town now and no one comes here without our say-so and takes stuff.’

Jamie tried to stall them, thinking Come on Jane, where are you? ‘Your town?’

‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he replied, ‘this is our town now. We’ve taken over this place, and no one’s gonna come here and…’

He stopped in mid-sentence as Jane climbed from the cab and came quickly to the back of the vehicle, with Jamie’s sawn-off up to her shoulder and aimed at the guy’s face. She’d been leaning over in the cab playing with Max: they hadn’t seen her there and she hadn’t seen them approach, but had heard them speaking. She’d reached down quickly to Jamie’s pack and pulled out the sawn-off; the over/under shotgun in the cab was too long for this situation.

The guy stood there with his mouth open, staring down the barrels, before speaking again. ‘Listen, lady…’

Jamie spun round and reached into the back of the truck, pulled out the new shotgun and held it at waist-level, sliding the safety off as he pointed it at them.

‘No, you listen!’ said Jane furiously. ‘I’ve had a fucking bad time recently! I’ve been shot and almost raped; I’ve already killed one bloke and my friend here has killed another two. Frankly, I’m getting pissed-off with wankers like you who think they can behave like this towards other survivors. You know, right now I’m just really tempted to fire both barrels; from this angle I could take out all four of you little shits!’

Behind them, in the cab, Max was barking loudly. All four guys looked nervous. ‘Hold on a second, lady…’ the man began, but Jane interrupted him again.

‘SHUT UP! We’re getting in the truck and driving away with our clothes. And we’ll come back whenever we want to; without your say-so. Now, if you don’t FUCK OFF right now I’m going to unload in your face!’