Remains of the Past E-Book

S. C. Loader

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 374

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Six years after the fall of modern civilisation, a wandering survivor Maja, meets an adaptive and highly resourceful survivor, Max. She persuades him to escort her to a known group of survivors where they can both build a future. A tentative, romantic relationship forms between them, but Maja's disinterest in a deeper relationship and her unethical choice of punishment for those men who have abused women, causes Max to reconsider his future at her side.

Leseprobe

Also by S.C. Loader

Helping Hands

The Realm

Three Wishes

The Last Chapter

Remains of The Past II

Remains of The Past III

Remains of the Past

Actions have consequences.

S. C. Loader

www.tredition.de

© 2023S. C. Loader 207072-4Coverdesign: RebecacoversISBN Softcover: 978-3-347-79753-6ISBN E-Book: 978-3-347-79067-4

Printing and distribution on behalf ofof the author:tredition GmbH, An der Strusbek 10, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany

The work, including its parts, is protected by copyright. The author is responsible for the contents. Any exploitation is prohibited without his approval. Publication and distribution are carried out on behalf of the author, to be reached at: tredition GmbH, department "Imprint service", Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Germany.

Das Werk, einschließlich seiner Teile, ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Für die Inhalte ist der Autor verantwortlich. Jede Verwertung ist ohne seine Zustimmung unzulässig. Die Publikation und Verbreitung erfolgen im Auftrag des Autors, zu erreichen unter: tredition GmbH, Abteilung "Impressumservice", Heinz-Beusen-Stieg 5, 22926 Ahrensburg, Deutschland.

.

Love

has limitations

Chapter One

From within his camouflaged hide, Max watched the hooded, two-legged threat to his home check for anything, or more importantly, anyone that might be a threat to itself. Seemingly assured it was safe, and with a revolver in hand, the threat stepped out from behind the shrubs it had chosen to conceal itself and warily crossed the dirt track. At the spiked, two-metre tall steel gate, the threat stopped to reconnoitre its surroundings once more and the compound beyond the locked obstruction.

With inward amusement, Max observed the threat’s futile attempt to remove the heavy-duty padlock securing the gate by shaking it. Then, rather than shooting the padlock off, it chose to use the butt of the revolver as a makeshift hammer. The first blow only succeeded in startling a pair of unseen pheasants, their noisy panic-stricken flight causing the threat to cower instantly. After three more single-handed attempts failed to break the padlock, a double-handed attempt followed but the threat accidentally dropped the revolver and oddly, after inspecting its hand, presumably for an injury incurred, failed to pick it back up.

Some frustrated kicking and violent shaking of the gate followed. The resulting noise and the threat’s inattentiveness allowed Max the opportunity to creep up behind and with a hefty shove in the back, forced the threat hard up against the gate, ramming a pistol painfully against the back of its hooded head, he warned, ‘Don’t move, speak or even squeak! This is a pistol! If you do anything to make me nervous, half your fucking brains and most of your face will end up spread all over that compound, do you understand?’

The threat tentatively nodded.

‘Joe, you search our visitor while I keep him covered … Oh! For Christ sake, I’ll do it then! Right, while my mate keeps you covered, I’m going to search you for weapons, and I would strongly advise you to think twice about doing anything stupid, he has an itchy finger, and he’ll have no compunction about adding you to his tally. Now make like Jesus on the cross.’

Hesitancy earned the threat another hard shove in the back, ‘NOW!’

Once compliant, the pistol pressed against the threat’s head moved away. Moments later Max ran his hands down the threat’s left arm from shoulder to the wrist but found nothing. The right arm followed then each leg in turn, again he found nothing. While patting downwards from the threat’s neck, shoulders and back, Max discovered a small ten centimetre long penknife tucked into the waistband of the jeans. Staying behind the threat, he stretched around to check the front. A large hunting knife was found attached to the jeans belt, and like the previously discovered knife, joined the revolver on the ground. Moving upwards, two unexpected bulges caused some hesitancy, although they were not weapons in the strictest sense, Max felt strangely threatened by them.

Stepping away, he told the threat, ‘Okay, drop your arms, then slowly turn around and remove your hood.’

The treat turned around, only to find it was staring straight down the barrel of Max’s pistol.

‘What’s your name, girl?’

A smile appeared, ‘Thank you. It’s been many years since anyone applied that epithet to me.’

Without warning, Max took a step backwards, pointed his pistol at the collection of weapons on the ground and squeezed the trigger. The wooden handle of the large hunting knife exploded into splinters.

Immediately realigning the pistol’s sights with the woman’s face, he demanded, ‘Your name?’

‘Maja, with a j and not a y.’

‘So Maja, with a j and not a y, what are you doing snooping around my place? Looking to steal something?’

The question passed unanswered, and Maja’s knitted eyebrows and searching eyes revealed her thoughts were elsewhere.

‘Lost something?’ asked Max sarcastically, exasperated at being ignored again.

Maja smiled, ‘Your mate, he never existed, did he?’

‘Nope, he was just a ruse to ensure your cooperation, as is this pistol pointing at your face. Now tell me what you’re doing snooping around here?’

Maja shrugged her shoulders and sighed heavily, ‘I’m just so tired of it all. I just wanted to find a place to rest.’

‘Bullshit! I’ve watched you amble up that road for over half a kilometre, and you’ve had ample opportunity and places to do that. So what’s the real reason? And this time, do me the courtesy of looking me in the eye when you answer.’

Maja’s anger-laden gaze fell into his, ‘Do I look like a bloody parrot? I’ve already told you why! Try listening!’

Max lowered the pistol and squeezed the trigger. A small cloud of dust burst upwards next to Maja’s foot as the bullet ricocheted off the cement. To Max’s surprise, Maja didn’t even flinch.

Her failure to react led him to voice an opinion, 'Guns don't scare you, do they?'

'No, and nor do the insignificant little pricks that wave them around believing it makes them look like real men.'

'Christ! You really are a sassy bitch, aren't you?'

'So what's next macho man? Are you going to start slapping me about now?'

For an unmeasured length of time, Max stared at Maja's dangerously narrowed eyes while mulling over her words. Finally, feeling chagrined, he took two steps backwards to take him out of Maja's reach and holstered the pistol.

'No, I'm not going to slap you around, that's not who I am, but I would still like to know why you're here. The road you were travelling on is over a hundred and fifty metres away, and you would not have made such a diversion without good reason.'

Maja made to speak but changed her mind. After a thoughtful pause she offered, 'I just wanted to find a place where I could light a fire without fear of it being seen, bed down without every conceivable creature with four or more legs crawling all over me, or assaulted, robbed or raped by those with only two,' turning her gaze to the forebodingly dark cloud hanging over their heads, she added, 'and it would be nice to stay dry for more than a few hours at a time. I detest this April weather!'

'Actually, we're in the third week of May.'

'Oh! Are we? I haven't bothered keeping track.'

While Max considered his next move, he cast a critical eye over Maja. String had been used to replace the lace in one of her walking boots, her loose-fitting jeans were filthy, threadbare around the knees and torn over one thigh. The jumper worn under her ill-fitting hooded fleece was far too long, evident by the sleeves covering most of her hands and extending at least fifteen centimetres beyond the bottom of the fleece. Nothing about her appearance, including her dirty face nor her filthy, unkempt hair, revealed the gender of the person hiding beneath it all. Only her voice and her previously felt but visually unnoticeable breasts revealed it.

Maja fidgeted nervously, 'What are you planning?' she demanded.

'I'm not!'

'Liar! I've seen that look enough times to know what you're thinking, you men are all the same! And I'll tell you this, if you touch me, I'll cut your fucking balls off!'

'Somehow, I don't doubt that you would Maja, but I'm not planning anything, I'm assessing you.'

'What for?'

'Against my better judgement, I'm contemplating letting you stay here for a couple of nights.'

'Oh! How magnanimous of you, should I curtsy now or later?'

'Christ almighty! You're not out to make any friends here, are you?'

'I don't need friends!' stated Maja vehemently, 'They're just two-faced arseholes waiting for an opportunity to stab you in the back and drop you in the shit.'

'You sound like you're speaking from experience.'

She nodded and then pointed to her things on the ground, 'If you let me have my stuff back, I'll leave. The revolver's empty if that's what's worrying you.'

'I thought you were looking for a place to bed down for the night?'

'I was, but with you here, I'd rather not.'

'Why not?'

'I've already told you. Try listening!'

'I heard you, I just hoped you would view me differently, that's all.' After a short reflection on his failure to establish that difference, Max changed tact and asked, 'Why would you want any of them back anyway? The hunting knife is buggered, the penknife is little more than a toy and what good is an empty revolver?'

'I don't want the hunting knife, I have a spare, but the other two have sentimental attachments, the penknife once belonged to my eldest son, and the revolver is useful in keeping unwelcome admirers at bay.'

'And its sentimental attachment?'

'Its previous owner made a fatal mistake.'

'Which was?'

'He met me!'

Having ensured the revolver was empty, Max allowed Maja to pocket it and the knife, and for some considerable time afterwards, he simply stood staring at her. His silent vigil ended when he removed his pistol from its holster, asking as he handed the weapon to a puzzled Maja, 'Do you know how to use this?'

She nodded.

'There are fourteen rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber, use them wisely.'

'Why have you given me this?' she asked disbelievingly.

'If you want to, you're welcome to bed down here for a while, and the pistol will help you feel less vulnerable. If you would rather not stay, you can take it with you.'

'I could just kill you and take everything!'

'If that is what you want to do, then do so.'

'What? You want to die?'

‘In all honesty, I’ve reached a point where death would not be unwelcome, but unlike you, I’ve no intention of killing myself. Suicide is your thing, not mine.’

‘What makes you think suicide is my thing?’

‘Apart from the obvious attempts at provoking me into shooting you, an act once termed as suicide-by-cop, when I asked you why you came here, you initially answered, “I’m just so tired of it all, I just wanted was to find a place to rest”, a pretty euphemism for killing yourself.’

'And pray tell, how would I kill myself in this ridiculous scenario?’

‘A bullet to the head, I expect.’

‘With an empty gun? That would have been a pretty impressive trick!’

'You have a cartridge hidden in your bra. Shall we wager on whether it fits your revolver?’

Even through all the dirt, Max could clearly see a guilt-driven blush colouring her face.

While Maja examined the pistol, Max tried to placate his curiosity, 'How did you know this was here?' and he waved a hand over the general area of the compound, 'it's not visible from the road, and even the dirt track leading up here is so overgrown it's barely recognisable as such.'

Maja pointed upwards over her right shoulder, 'I didn't know initially. I saw that and felt like being nosey, I only realised there was something unusual here when I saw all that steel fencing.'

Max turned his face skywards, 'Sorry, but why would a bog-standard mobile phone mast provoke interest?'

Maja's gaze remained with the pistol, 'It's high.'

'Twenty-five metres, give or take a few centimetres,' he replied matter-of-factly. Enlightenment then struck. 'Maja … would you really have taken your own life if I had not appeared?'

Again, she let the question pass unanswered.

'What's your name?' inquired Maja, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

'Max, without a j or a y.'

Maja smiled, 'So your parents could spell!'

'Personally, given their penchant for loud music, I think they just copied my name from the volume control.'

A thoughtful pause preceded Maja's, 'Is your offer to let me bed down here for a while still open?'

'Of course, it is.'

Maja tentatively returned the pistol, 'You trusted me enough to give this to me, so I'm going to trust you and return it, but if you do try anything during the night, I will cut your balls off.'

'And with a blunt butter knife, no doubt!'

'I'd never use anything that sharp! I could injure myself!'

Max grinned and holstered the pistol. As the first few drops of rain began to fall, he set off down the track, 'Come on!'

'Where are we going?'

'To grab the gear you hid under the cherry tree, hopefully, we can get inside before God empties his bathtub over our heads!'

Chapter Two

After securing the gate to the ten-metre by ten-metre square compound, Max answered Maja's question.

'This place caught my eye long before the first wave, I had worked in and around this district for years, but I had never come across any concrete foundations for a new phone mast this big, especially one built into the middle of a deer hedgerow.'

'Deer hedgerow?'

'Sorry, I don't know their real name. That's just what I call this type of hedgerow on either side of the compound. In days gone by, two rows of fruiting trees and shrubs were planted a few metres apart and, once established, became a shelter where the deer could overwinter.'

Maja nodded, 'How old is this hedgerow? There are mature trees growing amongst the smaller ones, so it must be quite old.'

'Sorry, I've no idea, but I once saw a pre-World War 1 photo of an old barn that stood nearby, and this hedgerow could clearly be seen in the background.'

'I wonder what the people who planted it would have said, if they had been told it would outlive the vast majority of mankind?'

'I doubt they would have believed it. Anyway, as I was saying, this site caught my eye because it was unusual. A mast base is normally a third the size of this one and at ground level, but for some reason, this base is not only far bigger but has also been raised half a metre above the lie of the surrounding land. When I drove past three months later, these three shipping containers were on site, the mast had been built, the power and communications cabinets installed and the whole compound had been surrounded by this two-metre high, steel palisade fencing, which in itself is unusual, as out here in the country these installations were rarely fenced in.'

As they made their way towards them, Maja eyed the indiscernible shape that Max had claimed to be three shipping containers. The two doors on the left resembled those at the back of a freight lorry, but nothing else did, and the garden shed on the roof left her totally puzzled.

Max opened the doors and flicked a switch, 'This is my garage.'

Along the ceiling, four fluorescent strip lights flickered into life, lighting up the five-metre-long interior of the shipping container.

'My God! You have electricity!' gushed Maja.

'Solar powered,' Max informed her as he operated a lever on the inside of each of the metal doors. Each lever moving a locking bolt both upwards and downwards to secure the door. Then he dropped two metal braces across both doors. Noticing Maja watching his every move, he quipped, 'Keeps the rats out, sneaky little buggers they are.'

Maja's titter brought a smile to his face.

As she squeezed past it, she asked, 'Why do you keep a quad bike in here? Nothing with a petrol or diesel engine works anymore, and the few odd vehicles that do, sound like their engines are about to explode!'

'I must admit I was shocked at how quickly petrol and diesel became unusable, but this lady is fully functional, it's an electric ATV.'

'ATV?'

'All-Terrain Vehicle, it sounds a little more grownup than quad bike.'

'How on earth do you charge it?'

'Solar! Everything electrical within my humble abode is solar operated.'

'Humble! I haven't seen a functioning vehicle in over three years, and come to think of it, the last time I saw a working lightbulb was five or more years ago!'

Max grinned.

'Why are the walls covered in plywood? I always thought that the inside of a shipping container was just corrugated metal, like the outside.'

'It is normally. I've added this as insulation, not particularly aesthetic, but functional. In the next container, I used plasterboard instead.' Waving an arm towards the back half of the garage, Max added, 'This is my workshop, such as it is. The stuff on the racking is just raw materials, spare parts and the proverbial odds and ends kept in the vain hope that someday they might come in handy.'

'I presume the butcher's block is your workbench?'

'Adaption is the key to survival.'

Still staring at the butcher's block, Maja fell into a thoughtful silence before she offered an opinion, 'Or you change into someone you don't want to be.'

'Leave your stuff here, we'll collect it later once we've completed your guided tour of CAB twenty-two.'

'What's “CAB twenty-two”?'

'This is! That's the number stencilled on the communications cabinet outside, presumably, it's the number of this installation.'

Halfway along the right-hand wall of the garage container, Max slid a steel door to one side, then reached through the fifty-centimetre gap and slid back another door, 'Please go through, but be careful of the step, this next container has a false floor and is higher than this one.'

Once Maja had moved through, Max turned off the lights in the garage container and closed both doors.

'Max … you don't have a cat, do you?'

'No, why?'

'I've just trod on something squishy!'

Realising he had forgotten to turn the lights on, Max flicked a switch, and again, four bright fluorescent strip lights flickered into life.

Maja's mouth fell open in stunned disbelief and as she slowly turned a full circle, her eyes grew larger with each discovery. Finally, she summed up her thoughts, 'Is this real?'

'The carpet you're standing on is, so I presume the rest of it is.'

Maja took a tour of what Max called his living room. Immediately to the left of the narrow doorway was a small wood-burning kitchen range. On a shelf above it sat a mismatched collection of frying pans, saucepans, cups, plates and dishes. Next to the range, a sink had been built into a worktop that ran the short distance to the back of the container. Underneath the worktop stood a washing machine. Against the back wall, a toilet had been squeezed in between the worktop and a corner entry shower cubicle. Next to the shower, and opposite the worktop was a coat rack with a small cupboard underneath it. A small, teak garden table with two chairs stood opposite the doorway. A flat-screen television, a mirror and a narrow shelf adorned the wall behind them. Two wardrobe units followed, occupying the remaining length of the wall. Opposite the wardrobes, and immediately to the left of the doorway, stood a bunkbed with only the bottom bed made up. Between the bunk bed and the wardrobes stood a small bedside cabinet with small lamp atop and a full-length mirror on the wall behind.

Unfortunately, before Max had thought to remove them, Maja discovered his collection of semi-pornographic pictures adorning the wall beside his bed.

'I see you like large breasts,' noted Maja, evaluating each of the pictures.

With his face flushed crimson red, Max nodded guiltily, 'Sorry about them, I wasn't expecting company.'

'Shame, I was hoping you were homosexual. Still, at least my little mole hills won't be of interest to you, will they?'

Max stared at the floor and fidgeted uneasily.

'Does all of this work?'

'Of course, this place is barely big enough to breathe in, so it would be pointless having anything in here if it didn't.'

'How big is this room?'

'Room? That's a debatable description. Without the insulation, this "room" is five point eight metres long by two point three metres wide, so thirteen square metres in total. The insulation takes thirty centimetres off those dimensions, which reduces the floor space down to eleven square metres, hence the reason why it's rather compact in here.

'I would say snuggly,' corrected Maja, admiring the washing machine, 'this is usable, you say?'

'Yes, and so is the sink, toilet and shower, but … they all have their limitations. Come upstairs, and I'll explain why.'

Opening a loft-hatch type entry above the doorway, Max pulled down a ladder and climbed up it. Once the lights were on, he called down for Maja to join him.

'If all this racking filled with case upon case and tray upon tray of tinned food hasn't made it obvious, this is my storage container.'

Underneath the top shelving, crammed solid with toilet rolls, a long row of strange-looking boxes with blinking lights caught Maja's eye, 'Wow! What are all those?'

'Transportable, solar charged batteries.'

'Why so many?'

'Unfortunately, my engineering skills lie in metalwork, and I had no idea how solar power worked when I arrived here. I broke into several houses sporting solar panels, but all of them had completely different layouts and all of them feed excess power into the national grid and didn't store it.'

'Ours was the same.'

'So, I borrowed all these from a camping shop. Each of these boxes has its own set of solar panels, plus all the other important bits and pieces are built in, like battery, overload protection, solar inverters, et cetera.'

'Solar inverters?'

'They change the twelve-volt direct current from the solar panels into a more usable two hundred and twenty-volt alternating current.'

‘What are all these labels for?’

‘As I've no idea how to link these batteries together, I've set each one a specific task. This one, for instance, runs the ventilation fans in this container. When the power falls into the red zone of the charge gauge, the fans stop working. Once the battery has recharged sufficiently for the needle to return to the green zone, they automatically resume working.'

Maja walked along the line of batteries, reading out the labels designating their use.

'"Vents up", "up" means this container, I presume.'

'You presume correctly.'

'"Vents L/Room", "Lights & Computer up", you have a working computer?'

'It's on the rack behind you, at the end of the row where that chair is, along with a printer. Unfortunately it's of little use without the internet. Occasionally I use it to play games on, or to watch the odd film, but otherwise …'

After looking the computer and printer over, Maja returned to continue reading labels, '"Lights L/Room", "Lights Garage", "Washing Machine", "Washing Machine" … why two for the washing machine?'

‘From fully charged, one battery will handle a full thirty-degree wash cycle or a short spin forty-degree wash cycle, but it will end up close to the red zone. Unfortunately, these heavy-duty batteries take three or more days to fully recharge, sometimes even longer when the sun is reluctant to show itself. So, I tend to use only one at a time.'

'And a sixty-degree wash?'

'Kills them both and doesn't even finish the wash cycle.'

Maja nodded an understanding and continued, '"Wall Outlets L/Room and Garage", "Wall Outlets L/Room and Garage" … I presume they're duplicated to keep one of them in reserve?'

'Yep.'

'"Video Cameras" … you have video cameras?'

'Yes, four of them, two are mounted at the top of the mast, and two mounted halfway down, their output is displayed on the monitor screen next to the table downstairs. The switch that turns the monitor on also turns the cameras on.’

'Oh! I thought that was a TV! So that's how you saw me coming?'

'No, I generally only use them at night. They are infra-red capable. I was stood on the roof with binoculars when I first saw you. Once you passed that gas distribution facility, I slipped out of the compound and watched you from my hide in the hedgerow.'

'Why does this box marked "ATV/Water Heater" look different from all the rest?'

'Because it’s only a relay and an isolator switch.'

'Sorry?'

'When I arrived here, the telephone company had already installed six large solar panels on top of the communications cabinet to supply the computerised equipment therein, its eight large cooling fans and an array of backup batteries with power. These panels produced far more power than anything I had, so I disconnected everything after the inverter and reconnected the ATV charger and a water heater to it, both power-hungry animals. When the ATV is fully charged, it trips a relay in this box which diverts the power to an immersion heater in the hot water tank. Once the water reaches a pre-set temperature, it stops drawing electricity, and any power created thereafter remains unused.'

'What about the backup batteries, couldn't you use them to save that power?'

'Probably, but I've never been able to make any sense of all the wiring in that cabinet, and I can't reuse the batteries in here because I don't know how to connect them to the equipment I already have.'

'Oh! Okay. Where does that padlocked door go to?'

'Out onto the roof of the garage.'

'Why did you put a garden shed out there?'

'To stop any light-fingered passer-by from pinching my sit-on lawn mower, although admittedly, it’s a bit of a bugger getting it in and out now, but I manage.'

A comment that brightened Maja’s eyes and raised another smile.

'The shed houses both the cold water tanks, the hot water tank and the pump, but there’s nothing to see unless you want to spend an hour or more removing all the insulation packed in around them.’

Maja shook her head, 'Perhaps next time.'

'Wise choice, now with regards to the hot water situation. There's plenty of it, but once used, it will take four hours to heat up again from cold on a bright sunny day. During the winter, it takes considerably longer as the water is that much colder to begin with, and the sun doesn't like to come out and play that often. However, keep in mind that if the ATV is being charged, the water will not begin to heat up until after it has finished. The hot water pressure is also quite low, so I've installed a pump which automatically turns on when it detects water being used by the shower or the sink. Although it does increase the pressure at the shower head and tap, it's still nothing to get excited over. The last battery in this row marked "Shower" provides the power for the pump and the small extractor fan in the shower cubicle that comes on automatically with it.'

‘How long would that battery power the pump?’

'Well over an hour, but the hot water will run out long before that.'

'Where do you get all your water from, a well?'

'No, there's a strong flowing stream a short distance away that rises from several springs on the western side of the valley, and thankfully runs throughout the year. But I collect my water from a point three hundred metres upstream.

'Why do you go so far to collect it?'

'I don't! I laid a pipe from the stream at that point to my water tank on the roof.'

'Why collect it from so far away if the stream is close by?'

'If there is a sufficient fall and you gradually reduce the diameter of a pipe over a long enough distance, it will increase the pressure of the water inside it, so I started off with a two hundred millimetre pipe and ended up with a thirty-two-millimetre pipe and enough pressure for the water to reach my tank four-metres off the ground.'

'And all your wastewater?'

'Everything returns to its source about a hundred metres downstream from here.'

'Sewerage as well?'

'Yep!'

'Yuck! I drank and filled my water bottles from that stream!'

Chapter Three

'Maja, you'll have to wait before running the washing machine, take your shower first.'

'Why?'

'Because the cold water is gravity fed and not pumped, and the same supply pipe feeds both. So if you take a shower at the same time as starting the washing machine, the latter will not fill with water. Or if you take a shower after the washing machine has filled, it will stop at the first top up or rinse cycle due to an "insufficient water supply" fault.'

'It's complicated, isn't it?'

'Once you have an overview, it all becomes clearer. Right! I've just hung up a fresh towel on the coat rack for you, the green one. There's shampoo in the shower tray, or if you would prefer, there's cake soap by the sink. I'll leave my pistol on the toilet-seat lid, it will help ease your worries that someone might catch you with your guard down.’

'Where will you be?'

'Outside, polishing my solar panels! Shout when you're finished.'

A while later, Max sat on the floor watching the towel-clad, shower-fresh Maja load up the washing machine.

'What on earth has happened to your jumper, Maja? Giant moths?'

'They're boar holes!'

'You drilled holes in your jumper?'

'No, not bore holes, boar holes, as in the animal. I was attacked by one going through a forest. I managed to fend it off with my rucksack and climbed a tree while it occupied itself, shredding the rucksack and most of its contents. As I didn't have a spare jumper, I had to wear what remained of this one.'

'And the holes in the socks, are they also boar holes?'

'No, like my jeans, they're just worn out.'

'So … would I be correct in assuming the reason you haven't changed, is because you don't have any spare clothing?'

'My spare clothing consists of two pairs of knickers, a bra and a T-shirt, all of which are as filthy as the ones I just took off.'

'Okay, we can sort that out. As you're only a fraction shorter than me, some of my clothes should fit you.' After a quick rummage around inside his wardrobe, he offered Maja a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a pair of thick socks and a thick jumper. Which, apart from the colours and the thick socks, were identical to what she was wearing before she undressed.

'Sorry, I don't wear bras or knickers, but I could offer you a pair of boxer shorts as a substitute for the latter.'

'Please … I can't wear my spares, they desperately need washing.'

With the washing machine purring away and Maja freshly attired, they sat cross-legged on the living room floor facing one another.

Max handed a utility belt to Maja containing a holstered pistol and a pouch. 'I would like you to have this,' he started, 'this pistol has a smaller frame than mine, so it's a little lighter, and the grip is smaller, so it should fit better in your hand.'

While Maja examined the pistol, Max continued, 'The magazine takes seventeen, nine-millimetre rounds and is identical to the one in my pistol, so they are fully interchangeable. The magazine in the pistol is fully loaded with FMJ rounds, as is the spare magazine in the pouch.'

Pointing to the small cupboard under the coat rack, he added, 'A box of ammunition is kept in the top left-hand drawer. While you're here, keep your magazines topped up, if you leave, you're welcome to take the box with you.'

'What does FMJ mean?'

'Full Metal Jacket.'

'Is that important?'

'It's something worth bearing in mind. The round you had tucked in your bra was of the hollow point variety, which have great stopping power at close range because they mushroom inside the wound, causing massive internal damage. An FMJ round on the other hand can pass straight through the body at close range.'

'Oh! How do you know all this?'

'In my youth, I spent many hours at my local indoor firing range.'

'Is that where these pistols came from?'

'No, both of these are the spoils of war, so to speak.'

'The spoils of war? How so?'

'Okay, let's go outside to save exhausting the battery for these lights, and I'll explain.'

'I don't have my fleece!'

'It's pleasantly warm now that the clouds have vacated the sky, and it didn't rain, so it's also dry.'

Outside they settled down with their backs to the pre-warmed metal communication cabinet, facing the spirit-lifting sunshine.

'My pistol once belonged to an overweight young man wearing ill-fitting army fatigues, who claimed ownership of the supermarket where I was resupplying myself. He was also under the impression that the death penalty was applicable to anyone he found trespassing there. Not feeling particularly cooperative that day, I engaged him in a game of catch-me-if-you-can while he slowly rearranged some of the fixtures and fittings with bullet holes. Eventually, I dodged into the warehouse. Puffing and panting he crashed through the doors moments later, only to be met by a fire axe coming full force in the opposite direction, which abruptly ended his participation in our game. I relieved him of this pistol, his utility belt and two spare magazines. Outside the supermarket, I also found a stolen army jeep with an entire case of nine-millimetre ammunition in it, along with an SLR rifle and a few other useful bits and pieces. Unfortunately, the rifle only had five rounds in its magazine, and there were no spares.'

'Do you still have the rifle?'

'No, once I'd used up the ammunition, I dumped it. Shame really, it was an excellent piece of kit.'

'When was this?'

'A week or so after the second wave.'

'And my pistol?'

'Ah! That acquisition was far less strenuous. A few years ago, I heard gunfire nearby. When I came out from behind the containers to investigate, I found a man shooting at the padlock securing the gate. When he saw me, I suddenly became his target. He fired off two rounds before his magazine emptied, both the rounds missed me by a wide margin. I put a bullet in his chest before he had the chance to reload.'

'What happened to him?'

'He joined the supermarket owner a few minutes later, and I dumped his body in a ditch on the other side of that ridge yonder.'

'The gun, holster, belt and spare magazine were all his presumably.'

'Only the holster, pistol and the spare magazine, the belt was one of those useful bits and pieces I found in the supermarket owner’s jeep.'

'Max, may I ask you something personal?'

'Of course.'

'Why are you being so nice to me? You don't know who I am, where I come from or what I've done, yet you're being really nice, gentlemanly even. Please tell me this isn't just a ploy to get me in your bed because if it is, it's not going to work.'

'Actually, it is going to work, and I will get you in my bed, albeit on the top bunk, unless of course, you fancy sleeping on the floor?'

'I'm serious Max. You've given me shelter, you've let me use your shower and your washing machine, you've given me fresh clothes, and a short while ago, a pistol that could be used against you. You've even replaced the lace in my boot and sharpened my spare hunting knife for me! Why are you being like this? Are you just desperate for someone to talk to or what?'

Max sighed heavily and after a thoughtful silence, admitted, 'I've been alone for over five years now, so there may be some truth in your suggestion, but as for being "nice" as you call it, that's a long story.'

She looked at her non-existent watch, 'Well, my favourite TV programme doesn't start for another couple of hours, so I have time on my hands until then.'

'As you're sure. My father taught me to always respect a woman, and that has been part of my credo throughout my adult life. So hand on heart, I can promise you, I will never force myself upon you.'

Idly toying with her hunting knife, Maja mentioned en passant, 'I'll hold you to that promise!'

Theatrically, Max covered his testicles, 'Please miss, I'll be good, I promise!'

Maja waved the knife threateningly around the area of his groin, 'You had better be!'

After giving some unresolved thought on whether she would actually carry out that threat, Max continued with his explanation, 'Something else my father taught me was that it is a man's absolute duty to protect and care for women and children. I've never been married, and I don't have any children, but the one time I tried to exercise that responsibility, I turned an entire group of survivors against me.'

'How so?'

'A few weeks after the second wave, I met up with a small group of survivors, nine men, twelve women, a boy of thirteen and two girls aged nine and fourteen. Eventually, we set up camp in a huge farmhouse in Enzersham-in-the-Valley.'

'Where's that?'

'It's about forty-five to fifty kilometres north of here. Anyway, one day one of the men who mistakenly believed he was God's gift to women was caught red-handed, sexually molesting the nine-year-old girl. The group set up one of their renowned committee meetings to decide what to do with him. Despite an earlier claim by one woman that he had done the same to her, five members still wanted to give him another chance. Two abstained, and thirteen said he should go but feared to invoke that decision because he had threatened to come back and butcher everyone if they threw him out. While the debate raged, I took this guy outside on the pretext of having a cigarette and a quiet word. He received a bullet to the head instead. Although they finally accepted my reasoning, most of the adults avoided me afterwards. Eventually, I grew tired of being cold-shouldered and left.'

'What was your reasoning?'

'The choice was either, allow a sexual predator to remain within our midst or throw him out and risk his murderous retaliation. Either choice put the children and the women in serious danger, so I negated that danger by killing him.'

'Do you regret what you did?'

'Not in the slightest, but the leaving hurt far more than I had expected.'

'Why?'

Max blushed deeply, 'Because I had fallen in love, and I had to leave her behind.'

'Didn't she want to come with you?'

'She never knew how I felt, and it would have been unfair of me to tell her.'

'Why?'

'Please, one day, I might feel brave enough to explain why, but for now, can we leave it at that?'

Maja nodded, but Max could see the intrigue in her eyes that his request had caused, and he knew if she remained with him, one day she would wheedle a confession out of him.

'So, how long were you with that group?'

'Let me think. The first wave was at the beginning of June, and I spent a week on the road in my father's camper van before the second wave hit. I remained on the road for another three weeks before meeting that group just outside Ernestwells, that’s about thirty kilometres north of here. I think we moved into the farm towards the end of July, I left towards the end of February the following year, so I was with them …' after a quick calculation, he added, 'nearly eight months in total. After I had left, I spent the next two months avoiding survivors while looking for a suitable place where I could set up a permanent residence on my own. Eventually, my travels brought me back here, and it seemed ideal for my purpose. I had local knowledge, which is always invaluable, all the shops and businesses I needed for supplies and equipment were within fifteen kilometres of our current sun-warmed armchair, there was a clean water source nearby, numerous fruit trees in the hedgerow, and the compound fencing was high enough and strong enough to keep unwanted visitors at bay.'

'Why did you want to set up alone?'

'Because it seemed to me that every survivor I came across lacked the common sense and the foresight to secure both their safety and their long-term future. I simply didn't want to place my well-being in the hands of people like that again.

'I presume something else, other than the disagreement over the sex pest, must have happened to colour your opinion?'

Max sighed and nodded despondently, 'When you consider that civilization had just collapsed and the constant dangers that this situation presented, it seemed a joke to me that this group should elect to make its decisions via a committee made up of all the adults, rather than have a single leader.'

'At least it’s democratic?'

'Maybe, or is it simply a way for a number of individuals to avoid the personal responsibility of making a decision? Even as a group, their decision-making left me nonplussed. I once proposed we steal a lorry, and instead of using a car to carry out a weekly raid on a couple of local supermarkets, both some fifteen kilometres distant, we could take an entire lorry load and save the multiple trips. No one felt it necessary to hold such a large supply with two well-stocked supermarkets in the neighbourhood, so my proposal vanished into the ether! Another time, I suggested erecting a strong fence, similar to this one, to prevent any possible incursions from unwanted visitors, but a deputy shoe shop manager and a tax adviser's administrative assistant persuaded everyone else it would be a waste of time. So much for the committee demonstrating their commitment to providing for our safety and our future! Even something simple, such as suggesting the three old age pensioners within the group, one man and two women, should be given the responsibility of tending the vegetable garden as they were neither agile enough, nor strong enough, for the more physically demanding work. It took three days for the committee to convene and agree! Three days! I sometimes wondered whether they would hold a committee meeting to decide on our response if we were ever attacked.'

'May I ask another personal question?'

Max checked his watch, 'Go ahead. We still have an hour before your favourite TV program starts.'

'How did you feel when you killed those men?'

'To be honest, I never gave a second thought to the first two. I killed the supermarket owner in self-defence, and I suppose the same can be said of the guy in the group, although it helped that I considered him to be the dregs of humanity on two legs.'

'That's a good description, I shall remember that.'

'The third guy was different, I questioned my own actions for weeks afterwards, and even now, three years later, I still have a guilty conscience about it.'

'Why?'

'Because I think he panicked when he saw me, and I'm almost certain he shot at me out of instinct rather than as a deliberate conscious attempt to kill me, but I'll never know for sure.'

'Would you have killed me earlier if I had tried to do the same to you?'

Max left the question unanswered.

Chapter Four

Some time passed in an amicable silence before Maja asked accusingly, 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.'

'Then why are you looking at me like that?'

'Because …'

'Because?'