The Undead. The First Seven Days (87 page)

They turn to see an old man walking towards them, wearing a blue jumper marked with the
English Heritage
badge. A cravat is tucked into the front of the v-neck jumper; grey roots showing in his thinning, dyed, ginger hair.
  ‘Hi,’ Howie responds as the man draws closer, they shake hands and Howie watches as the man turns to Chris and Dave in turn; Dave quickly wiping his hand, immediately after the shaking.
  ‘So, which one of you is Mr Howie?’ The man asks, looking at them each in turn.
  ‘Err, that’ll be me,’ Howie says.
  ‘Name’s Hastings, Roger Hastings, as in the famous battle,’ the man smiles at Howie.
  ‘Oh, err, nice to meet you, Mr Hastings,’ Howie replies.
  ‘Oh now, call me Roger,’ the man beams back at him.
  ‘How did you know my name?’ Howie asks.
  ‘There’s been some talk of you in here - quite some talk of Mr Howie and Dave rampaging round the country killing off the heathen undead,’ Roger talks quickly, with an effeminate voice.
  ‘Oh, err, really? Well…’ Howie stutters, unsure of how to respond.
  ‘I think there’s quite a few of the people you’ve met already in here, I keep hearing stories of the famous Mr Howie and Dave and here you are in the flesh,’ Roger speaks, waving his hand as he talks.
  ‘Now Roger, they’ve only just arrived, so take it easy with them,’ Ted calls out, walking over to them.

‘Howie, this is Roger Hastings, he was the principal guide here for the guided tours. Apparently he’s been here since the place was first built,’ Ted adds, smiling at Howie.
  ‘Oh, stop it, Ted, you big brute,’ Roger simpers, smacking a limp hand on Ted’s old but still solid shoulder.
  ‘Excuse me for interrupting, but your doctor has set up an initial screening room, just off to the right, inside the inner wall, the people are getting processed fairly quickly and we should have them all inside quite soon. Debbie has got a few of her team getting details as they come through,’ Ted says.
  ‘Thanks Ted, appreciate the update. How many people are already here?’ Howie asks.
  ‘You’ll have to ask Debbie for the official figures, but with your lot coming in, I’d say that puts us to maybe seven thousand,’ Ted replies.
  ‘Seven thousand?! In here, bloody hell,’ Howie exclaims, looking at Chris who looks equally stunned.
  ‘Word spread quickly, people met up on roads and told each other about it and well, they just kept coming. It slowed right down yesterday and the day before, but, obviously now we’ve got a lot more coming in,’ Ted shrugs his shoulders. ‘Listen, I need to get back and help Debbie before young Tom and Steven drive her mad, I’ll leave you in the capable hands of Roger for the full experience,’ Ted winks at them, as he turns away.
  ‘Thanks Ted,’ Howie calls out.

Ted waves back at them.
  ‘Are you all ready?’ Roger asks, hand on hip and head cocked to one side.

Howie glances at Chris, then looks to Dave, who is staring wide-eyed at Roger.
  ‘Err, yeah I guess so,’ Howie says.
  ‘Okay boys, follow me please,’ Roger says as he starts to walk towards the inner wall.

They follow behind, exchanging glances and shrugging shoulders.

Stepping away from the gated section of the outer wall, they walk through a large gap in the inner wall and enter the Fort proper. The sight that greets them is staggering and they stop to take in the view.
  Ahead of them lies the interior of the Fort; open land with the thick, inner wall running around the entire perimeter. The wide open grassed area of the Fort is thick with tents and marquees. Some wooden structures have been hastily erected amongst them. Tents of all size and shape have been placed into the grounds. At first it looks to be a mess of canvas and modern tents, but Howie quickly realises there has been order in the layout.
  ‘Right gents,’ Roger drops the effeminate speech as he launches into full tour guide mode. ‘Initially we were using the buildings built into the Fort walls. As you can see there are doors and gated entrances built into the inner wall. Within those doors and gated entrances are many rooms and tunnels. They were originally designed for ammunition storage, food and supplies, also barracks, sergeants and officers’ quarters; there were hundreds of soldiers based here. They had to live and work within the Fort, so everything they needed was within these walls. There is even a fresh water well here.’
  ‘Does it still work?’ Chris cuts in, quickly.
  ‘Oh yes, we’ve been using it constantly. They knew what they were doing back in those days, the site was very carefully chosen  - they would have needed fresh water in the event of a siege, which they fully expected,’ Roger continued. ‘Anyway, we were using the buildings and rooms within the Fort walls as accommodation, until we started getting more and more people arriving. Some of those people were surveyors and architects, so we were able to start designating the grounds to be used. We have sectioned off small areas, to the best of our ability, so we can keep walkways and avenues running between them.’
  ‘It looks impressive,’ Howie comments.
  ‘It took some doing, but Sergeant Hopewell was very good at getting the right people into the right roles. We were cooking from a central point, but as the population grew, we had to separate that into several smaller cooking points. Each person or group that arrives only gets entry on the basis that they hand over their supplies, to make sure the distribution is fair.’
  ‘Has anyone refused?’ Howie asks.
  ‘A few got upset, which is understandable, but we were able to convince them to leave the supplies outside and step in to see it was a good set up and they were not going to be robbed. Most of them are just glad to get somewhere safe.’
  ‘I can imagine, so have you got many supplies then? A population this size will need a lot of food,’ Howie says.
  ‘Well, as soon as we got some organisation in here, we started sending out armed foraging patrols. They were tasked to gather supplies and avoid contact at all costs. They have been bringing back tents, sleeping bags, wet weather clothing, bedding, food, medicine and anything that will help us. They’ve been raiding every outdoor and camping shop for miles. In terms of food, we are okay, not brilliant, but with careful rationing we have been able to make sure everyone at least gets something,’ Roger explains as they walk into the grounds and stroll down the wide central path.

People scurry about, or sit looking forlorn outside of tents. They all stare at Dave, Howie and Chris as they walk through, and Dave picks up on some nudges and whispers.
  ‘Are the Fort buildings in use now?’ Chris asks.
  ‘Sergeant Hopewell uses one as admin offices, there is a larger section of rooms built into the south side that have been taken over as a hospital. The rooms are the biggest, cleanest and most recently repaired. In fact, most of the rooms and sections built into the south side are being used, we have the supplies section in there and the armoury.’
  ‘The armoury?’ Dave asks immediately, upon hearing his favourite word.
  ‘Yes, we have sourced some items, shotguns, rifles and quite a lot of ammunition. It’s where we stored the black powder for special events,’ Roger explains.
  ‘Black powder?’ Dave asks again.
  ‘The Fort has retained some of the original cannon and armaments, which one of the historical societies still use for events and public displays.’
  ‘How much black power do you have?’ Dave asks, staring hard at Roger.
  ‘Quite a lot,’ Roger replies. ‘So that’s the south side. Over towards the east section we have the visitors centre, gift shop and café. We are using that as a meeting place and information point.’
  ‘This is great Roger, really very good and well organised,’ Howie says, genuinely impressed.
  ‘We’re not even at the start yet,’ Roger replies, immediately back in his camp voice, as they enter the visitors centre.

There is a quiet calm inside the building, and Howie recognises the young lady sitting behind the reception desk, speaking to a few people.
  ‘Hello Terri,’ Howie calls out to the female police officer that he met in the police station.
  ‘Mr Howie, wow I heard you arrived,’ Terri smiles sweetly, rushing round the desk and running to hug Howie.

Howie responds, slightly embarrassed, as the pretty blonde girl squeezes him tightly.
  ‘Err, so how have you been?’ Howie asks, unsure of what to say after the display of affection.

Howie had thought of Terri Trixey as stuck up and prudish, when they had first met.
  ‘Well, apart from Tom and Steven being a pain in the arse, we’ve been very well,’ Terri smiles back at him, finally releasing him from the hug.
  ‘Hello Dave, lovely to see you too,’ Terri turns on Dave, stepping forward to embrace him. Howie holds his laugh in, at the look of pure terror on Dave’s face as he squirms uncomfortably.
  ‘Terri, this is Chris,’ Howie introduces them. ‘Chris, this is Terri Trixey, she’s a police officer from Portsmouth.’ They shake hands formally, then Terri immediately turns back to Howie.
  ‘I heard you brought loads of people with you?’ Terri asks.
  ‘Yeah, Chris was in charge of a sort of commune in London that got overrun, so we managed to get them out and down here… listen, we need to have a look round with Roger, can I catch up with you in a bit?’
  ‘Yes, of course, come back for a coffee as soon as you’ve finished,’ Terri smiles at him.
  ‘Err, right, yes of course, a coffee sounds nice,’ Howie says.
  ‘She seemed nice,’ Chris smiles at Howie as they step away. ‘Going for a coffee later then?’ he jokes, putting emphasis on the word coffee.
  ‘Piss off Chris, you did that with Clarence and my sister, don’t bloody start on me,’ Howie laughs at the big man.
  ‘Right gents, up here please,’ Roger cuts in, back to business.

Roger leads them up a flight of metal stairs, across a small landing area and then up onto the top of the inner wall.
  ‘The Fort was commissioned in the 1850’s and completed in 1858. The Fort was designed primarily as a motor battery with over fifty mortar placements, which could be angled to fire both out to sea and inland. The smaller sections we will see are for the mortar placements. These are primarily on the south and north walls. The larger sections are for the RML’s, which means…’
  ‘Rifled Muzzle-Loaded guns,’ both Dave and Chris say, in unison.
  ‘Very impressive,’ Roger responds quickly. ‘These forts, especially the larger ones like this, used new techniques and equipment that had never been deployed before. Those small metal rails that loop in the half circle round this section were used for the loading of the cartridges,’ Roger keeps the information flowing, as they slowly walk round the walls to the south side.
  ‘The ground at the rear of the south wall was dug away, so the sea comes straight up to the side of the wall - it gets a bit shallower when the tide goes out and, over the years, the sediment and mud has built back up - but it’s still pretty deep down there.’
  ‘How deep?’ Chris asks.
  ‘At high tide it’s well over head height, at low tide it’s probably chest height,’ Roger admits.
  ‘We’ll have to have look-outs posted at the rear then,’ Howie says.
  ‘Why? Are you expecting trouble?’ Roger asks.

Chris gives Howie a warning look.
  ‘We’ll talk later mate, let’s keep going,’ Howie replies.
  ‘As you wish,’ Roger says. ‘After the threat of French invasion finished, the Fort was used as public grounds and then re-commissioned for the First World War. By 1920 it had passed back into public control. Then the Fort was re-commissioned in 1939 for the outbreak of the Second World War - during this time, the Fort was taken over by the Navy and re-named HMS Spitbank. It was mainly used as an anti-aircraft site, but there were also radar installations and, due to the close proximity of the sea, it was used for the designing and testing of landing craft. Then, in the early 1950’s it again passed into public hands.
English Heritage
acquired the site during the late 1980’s. By that time, most of the interior had fallen into disrepair. Work conducted by
English Heritage
and the historical societies brought it back to the present glory you see today.’
  ‘You said that you had cannon,’ Dave says, once Roger finished speaking.
  ‘Yes we do, two on the south wall and two on the north wall, they are not the originals - but the type they would have used in that era,’ Roger replies.
  ‘And they can be fired?’ Dave asks.
  ‘Yes, they can, but only by members of the historical society - but none of them made it here and I don’t think anyone else has the knowledge,’ Roger says.
  ‘I can work it out,’ Dave says.
  ‘Cannon are very difficult to use,’ Roger says, with a concerned expression.
  ‘I wouldn’t worry - Dave likes blowing things up, did you know he once blew up a cow?’ Howie says lightly.
  ‘A cow?’ Roger asks, aghast.
  ‘Oh yes, you should hear some of the stories Dave has told me, incredible really,’ Howie says, looking about, nonchalantly.
  ‘Oh really, sounds fascinating,’ Roger says, back in the camp voice.
  They reach the north wall and stand looking out. The view takes in the vista of the flat land, stretched out in front of them. From the other side it appeared that the outer wall was higher, but the design was well thought out and the inner wall is raised slightly higher to allow a clear view; but with the ability to drop down to a lower section. Two sections of the front wall jut out, with large, flat platforms situated on top of the inner wall. A huge cannon rests on each buttress, the wide dark mouth facing out to the flat lands.
  ‘Big cannon,’ Howie remarks.