The Shift of Numbers (23 page)

The circular compound was flanked on each side by 2 fair-sized hills, both thickly covered in vibrant trees and dense undergrowth. The road and surrounding grassland leading up to the sturdy wooden fence looked down into the ring of houses. Tim could see a swimming pool and several well looked-after fields with straight rows of green leaves. Other areas were cordoned off with neat fencing. Shielding his eyes from the low sun, he could just make out several animals feeding on the deep green grass. Beyond the hills, the ocean beat against outcrops of iron-coloured rock, spraying a salty mist onto the land. The only area accessible to the sea lay directly behind the compound, a sun-bleached strip of white sand linked by a well-worn path. He imagined, under different circumstance, that this would be an ideal place for a holiday.

They leaned u
p against the side of their
car,
parked some distance behind the armoured trucks that
had encircled the enclosure on 1 side, spread out in-between the 2 hills. Tim
turn
ed his attention to the soldier
s who were milling around behind the safety of thick steel, checking and double-checking their weapons with a
kind of
grim
seriousness. Others intently watched the compound for movement, either through binoculars or riflescopes.

“Is
this really going to happen?” a
sked Tim, mostly to himself.

“What would you have us do?” Sir said amiably.

“I don’t know…”

“There is
nothing
we can do
,” h
e said
,
with an air of finality.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Was it your idea? With the money and everything?
”

“Yes.
I suppose it was.”

“Why?”

“Why what?

“Why invent it?”

A
wry smile touched Sir’s face and he shrugged.
“It was my job.”

“That’s your excuse?” Anger began to trickle into Tim’s voice as he turned to face the nameless man.

“Do you think me evil? Do you think I looked at my syst
em in its conception and saw it
s future, then carried on regardless?”

“Well
,
if it was
your
job…” Tim added sarcastically through clenched teeth. 

“Listen, and listen carefully. Who do you think
you
are? Are you so much better? More moral? Look at where you’re standing. You’re about to wa
tch the slaughter of wome
n and children and the gun is in your hand. Who’s your judge? I can tell you for definite - it’s certainly not me.” They stood in silence, leaning back up against the car.

“Are you 2 ready to watch history?” They both looked up quickly to see the Commander-in-Chief clad in a
bullet-proof
vest ever so slightly too
tight
for him. It gave the impression of a turtle trapped
in a shell 2 sizes
too small and whose limbs struggled to operate effectively. Through the gaps in the armoured crust
,
you could make out a tailored uniform covered in shiny medals. Tim and Sir simply nodded vaguely in his direction, hoping it was enough for him not to notice. He pulled out a hip flask and offered it to Sir. He accepted.

“We go in 15 minutes,” h
e said, excitement bubbling under the surface of his voice, threatening to escape at any moment with a loud pop.

“Sir, we have no idea who’s in there. Th
ere could be women and children,
” Tim reasoned, trying to keep his voice level and emotionless.

“Nonsense
. T
he
y’
re terrorists. Don’t you watch the news?” A broad smile broke across his face as he took back the hip f
lask and took a nip. He put
it back into his pocket - not offering it to Tim – and waddled away whistling, his arms poking out from his body.

“If I’d have known what would become of my work, I would have become a milkman
…” Sir offered under his breath.

Tim
’s
mind raced,
“WAIT,
Commander
. Please, wait,” h
e shouted. The outreached arms turned 180 degrees.

“What?”
he said with an annoyance that suggested a wrong response might land the inquirer in pain beyond the
ir
imagining.

“But… What about the cameras? Can we get in contact with them, see if they might want to sur…” Tim’s mouth stopped working as his boss stood heavily on his foot and finished his sentence.

“He does raise a point
,
Commander
,
what with the news crew on site. Might not look to
o
good…”

“
Okay, then.” H
e mu
lled over something in his mind. “I can see your point. W
e will attack when it gets dark.” The Commander waved a lazy salute, took a swig from the hip flask,
turned on his heel and marched
off in the direction of a group of soldiers. Sir let out a snort that Tim took to be a laugh.

“What’s funny?” h
e asked, annoyed.

“We have just convinced the Commander into attacking a group of defenceless people in the dark, away from the cameras and when he is most likely to get away with it. It’s not funny at all. We just keep making things worse is all…”

*

DAY 32

Sunny – 17:26

I’m either going to die or be part of the gre
atest television show ever made!
I’ve written you a letter explaining…
Don’t know why I’m in here, no-
one is ever going to watch this…

Poppy and Tom – 17:39

Bill is taking us on a boat.

He’s funny.

We can do fishing.

Fish are smelly.

You’re smelly.

You’re smellier.

Come on
, Poppy. L
et’s go.

Hold hands.

*

Gordon stumbled out of the production hut towards the main house, his legs heavy and numb. He briefly stopped in the kitchen to pick up a knife before climbing the stairs in search of her. She was on the 2
nd
floor in a corridor, silently watching the soldiers outside through a window. Sunny and Isabella stood next to her, each holding 1 of her hands. They all turned as Gordon reached the top of the stairs, looking at him with sad eyes. Gordon stopped walking and pushed the knife up his sleeve. Isabella whispered something to Sunny and 1 after another they hugged Sophia
, kissed her cheek and departed
down the corridor in the opposite dir
ection, d
isappearing into the evening gloom.

*

From the hilltop, Richard and the Scientist watched
with interest as the soldiers - little blurry plastic figures - arranged themselves, manoeuvring into position, waiting for the giant hand of their general to push them onwards towards the dying embers of the evening sun. Even from this distance, Richard could feel their sense of anticipation, as if a cold sweaty fear were collecting in misty vapours, rising up through the valley to collect in clouds around the peak of the hill. The Scientist adjusted his binoculars, spotting a glimpse of movement in 1 of the fields. He focused in on a small dark shadow shuffling along a furrow, hidden from the soldiers’ view by lines of thick green foliage on either side. Then, came another, and another - an awkward line of small creatures creeping towards an unknown goal. He shifted his view along the snaking line until he saw its head. He resisted an urge to punch the air and shout ‘Yes!’ Instead, he controlled his breathing and spoke in a whisper.

“That field at the back. He’s there.”

“Where?” Richard replied, the tip of his rifle waving around uncertainly.

“There. About 50 metres behind the far building,” he hissed back urgently.

“I can’t see him.”

“You see the far building?” Frustration crept into his voice.

“Yes.” The magnified side of a building,
briefly blurred by motion, moved into the crosshairs. A wave of nausea passed through Richard’s body. He blinked rapidly forcing the feeling back down inside himself.

“He’s behind, near the edge of the field now.” He forced his eye wider. A window filled the scope along with 2 people - a young man and a lady, locked together in embrace. His hand rested lightly on her cheek obscuring her from view.  Her blonde hair trickled over her shoulders.

“Can you see him? Shoot him. Shoot him!” The Scientist’s voice had built to a crescendo, thick with excitement and he had stood up, oblivious to the risk of being seen.  Then, Richard’s stomach tensed and knotted into a tight ball. Something disappeared from inside his chest as he tried to gasp a breath.

“Kill him, you idiot… KILL HIM!”

*

As soon as Gordon had seen her
,
he felt stupid for holding the knife. He felt instantly sober as if a shower of cold water had rushed over and through him, washing all his old feelings away and replacing them with nothing but warmth for her and a cringing stupidity f
or himself. They didn’t speak. There was no point. T
hey just stood together gazing out
of
the window. He didn’t realise anything in that moment and he was sure he should. He just turned to face her, drawing his finger down her cheek, trying to look deep inside her
,
through her eyes, those lying eyes. All he saw was a mirror for his own and it reminded him that the only reason she was here was because of him. As she moved towards him, lightly kissing him, he forgot everything.

*

He rose to his feet,
dropping the rifle, blinking and gulping in uneven breaths. Th
e Scientist came at him, shouting
obscenities, his face contorted with rage. He struck out at Richard with open fists, futilely slapping at his face. The
n
he felt pain, nails clawing at his face and neck. Reaching out both hands to fend of
f the invasive
digits
,
he grasped at the air finding something solid to hold. With pause, Richard let out a roar and bit down on the Scientist
’
s outreached finger, letting go when the shouting c
hanged in pitch to a long drawn-
out scream. Richard dropped to his knees, frantic
al
ly searching the undergrowth around him until he found what he was looking for. Jumping up, he forced himself down the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He dodged between trees picking up speed quickly as his legs struggled to keep up with the growing velocity of his body and flailing arms. Tears streamed down his face
, down to his contorted mouth which was
fixe
d open, rhythmically expelling lou
d throaty noises.

*

Tim and his unapologetic boss had stood in uncomf
ortable silence now for what
seemed like hours
, l
ike they were innocuously attempting to delay the onset of night and the horror that would ensue. Even the news chopper had been ordered back some distance and was now barely audible. Tim knew that their zoom lenses would capture all the necessary propaganda required with minimum effort.

“Did you hear that?” h
e asked Tim in a voice barely a
bove a
whisper.

Tim concentrated for a moment.
“No.” The
n, the
y remained silent.

“You must have heard that.
”

Tim had this time, a tiny indistinct voice
,
twisted and distorted by the wind. Some of the soldiers looked towards the hill.

“What was it
?” Tim whispered.

“Ssssh a minute.” Everyone fell silent, including all the soldiers. The near-absolute silence was followed several seconds later by a very faint voice.

“Did that say
–
‘S
hoot him
’
?” Tim asked quietly to no response, the tension growing slowly inside him. The following moment of quiet was broken with what Tim thought was a distinct ‘Kill it’ or
,
possibly, ‘him’. He looked at Sir who shared his puzzled look. All eyes were now
fixed on the hill
w
h
ere several of the closest soldiers were now pointing their rifles. They all heard
the next bit:
some muff
l
ed shouts followed by a high-pitched, eye-watering scream.