13.7

The food came and Davey and the king ate fast, trying not to think about what was inside the bun.

But then again they had probably eaten worse back in the Freelands.

Davey had learnt the hard way not to ask questions about where food came from after.

‘Ready?’ Papa Grim said when he poked his head around the door again.

Solomon shooed him out. ‘Two minutes, PG.’

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘OK, PG.’

Papa Grim cursed as he stepped outside.

Solomon gave it five minutes then they went out.

Again, the crowd were hostile towards him, hissing, booing, cursing, spitting, throwing things.

Again Solomon gave no fucks.

‘People, people, people,’ he said, raising his arms aloft. ‘Myself and Davey lad are going to head over to the City to take a peep what’s going on over there. I need some volunteers to come with us.’

Papa Grim stepped forward.

Solomon turned his nose up like he’d stepped in dog shit.

‘You,’ he said, pointing to Josie.

‘No I can’t go,’ she said. ‘My mam will follow me out if we do.’

‘Ah that’s true,’ Solomon said. ‘But never mind. You’re coming. Or there’s no fucking trip today.’

He furrowed his brow, peering round the ragtag bunch of bikers and criminals.

‘You,’ he said, pointing to a chubby young lad.

‘Scout, you go too,’ Papa Grim said.

A thin, weasel-faced man stepped forward.

‘Aye you’ll do I suppose,’ Solomon said.

A heavily-muscled young blonde woman put her hand up.

‘Why not?’ Solomon smiled.

‘And I’ll be the last one,’ Papa Grim said.

‘Do we have to?’

‘Yes, or else I won’t lend you my men.’

‘Go on then, if you must. Before we go, though, I want a little walk around the woods, get some proper fresh air. By myself. I’ll leave Davey lad with you so you know I’m not going to do a runner.’

Papa Grim thought about it for a moment then nodded, ‘If you try to run I’ll have you gunned down like a sick dog.’

‘I expect nothing less.’

‘And I’ll leave you alive just long enough to see me take the boy’s face off.’

‘You can trust me, PG.’

Papa Grim scowled again.

‘Right, leave me to it. I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’ll be back when I’ve finished.’

He wandered off into the woods, leaving an uneasy Davey in the company of Papa Grim.

Davey and Papa Grim watched through their binoculars as the King wandered round the woods.

Half a dozen of the bikers had him lined up in their sights the whole time.

His mouth was moving like he was talking to himself, but he was far enough away that they couldn’t make out what he was saying.

He seemed to be rambling incoherently, looking like a hippy on a bad LSD trip.

Every minute or so, he would stop his wandering, look through the binoculars, check the position of the sun with a squint into the sky, and shake his head.

Occasionally, he’d lick his finger and put this into the air as if to test the direction of the wind.

Even Davey had no idea what he was doing, but he trusted the King with his life.

Solomon kept looking around with the binoculars.

Papa Grim was becoming increasingly exasperated with him. He sent the guards away and said he’d keep watch on his own.

And Davey finally clicked on to what he was doing; he was wasting time, trying to look busy, to bore Papa Grim enough to relax his guard.

He just hoped Solomon wasn’t going to run off and leave him with the tattoo-faced psycho.

‘I’m going for a piss,’ Papa Grim said. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’

Solomon again scanned the city walls, an inscrutable expression on his face.

He turned three-sixty with the binoculars.

When he saw that Papa Grim was walking away, he took something from his pocket and darted over to what looked like a demolished well set into the hillside.

He quickly sprayed something in front of it. Davey couldn’t see it from here, but it was clearly some sort of sign.

He disappeared round the corner and sprayed something else.

Davey could see the cloud of spray coming off the wall.

Then Solomon scanned around with the binoculars again.

He gave Davey a wink, and a big thumbs up before resuming his charade, just in time for Papa Grim’s return.

Davey struggled to hide his grin.

‘Is he still pissing about out there?’ Papa Grim scowled.

Solomon did another dozen scans around, still occasionally rambling incoherently to the skies above, before returning with a wise expression on his face.

‘Ah, I think I’ve got it,’ Solomon beamed.

Papa Grim looked through the binoculars.

He was still none the wiser.

‘Over that way,’ Solomon said, pointing in the opposite direction to which the well structure had been.

Papa Grim looked again.

‘I’m seeing nothing.’

‘Ah, you must need to be closer,’ Solomon beamed. ‘We should maybe get moving.’

When Papa Grim turned away, Solomon gave Davey a knowing wink.

Papa Grim took the young lad, Frankie, on the back of his bike, a gleaming Harley that had aged better than the world and the people around it.

Solomon took Davey on the back of his bike.

Scout took his own bike.

The heavyset lady, Kiera, took hers, her long blonde hair poking down below the rim of her helmet.

Josie had her own bike.

Davey watched her for a while, thinking she was cool as hell.

That’s what I’ll be like in a few years, he thought.

If I survive that long.

‘We probably won’t get too close on these,’ Solomon said. ‘So be prepared to walk a fair way.’

Papa Grim shrugged.

Solomon kicked his bike into gear and set off, leaving the others in a cloud of dust.

Papa Grim scowled and set off after him.

They rode for a good few miles, before the soot-stained white walls of the city’s tower blocks appeared in the distance.

The outer wall around the city seemed bigger than Davey had remembered it. It felt like an eternity since he had lived in here.

It was a dirty white, no doubt contaminated with radiation and the ashes of humanity that still drifted on the winds.

They moved in a bit closer, until Solomon stopped.

‘Hmm,’ he mused, deep in thought.

‘What is it?’ Papa Grim said, still pissed at the King.

‘They’ve upgraded the gun towers since I was last here.’ He pressed the binoculars to Papa Grim’s eyes.

‘So?’

‘It’ll be harder to get in. Luckily I know a shortcut.’

They followed King Solomon as he seemed to ride round in a circle, being careful to stay the same distance away from the walls as he had.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Every five minutes or so, he would stop, look through the binoculars, check the position of the sun with a squint into the sky, and shake his head.

Even Davey had no idea what he was doing, although he guessed he was stalling again.

After maybe the dozenth repetition of this bizarre ritual, he grinned and said, ‘Ah, I think this might be it.’

They looked up.

The view of the city looked pretty much identical to every other time he had done this.

Even Davey was starting to lose his patience.

Solomon watched through the binoculars a while.

After a few minutes, he nodded, put them down, and sprayed some spray paint on the ground in an arrow shape, pointing back the way they came.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Papa Grim said.

‘What are they eating in there?’ Solomon said, a knowing grin on his face.

‘Probably people, like you, you sick fuck.’

Solomon scoffed. ‘Na, they need the workers, don’t they, Davey lad?’

Davey nodded.

‘So what they eating, PG?’

‘I don’t know. And stop fucking calling me that.’

‘And where does it come from?’

‘That, to me, looks like a door.’

Solomon pointed to a part of the paintwork that seemed a slightly different colour to the others.

They watched it for a good few hours, watching it in shifts while the others further explored.

Still, it seemed that what Solomon had claimed to be a door was not being used.

‘Maybe they’re approaching from the other side,’ said Davey.

‘Maybe,’ Solomon said. ‘But if my bearings are correct, the other side would have been destroyed in the blast.’

Papa Grim thought about it for a second. ‘Yeah, I hate to say it, but I think he’s right.’

‘Let’s get in a bit closer,’ Scout said.

Solomon shook his head. ‘I think we’re close enough,’ he pointed to a partially-concealed camera mounted on a seemingly random pillar of concrete maybe two hundred yards from them.

‘Shit, I didn’t even notice,’ Scout said.

‘That’s the outer one,’ Solomon said. ‘They’re roughly the same distance apart. We go any closer and that’ll pick us up.’

‘So how do you want to play this?’ Scout said.

‘To me, there’s gotta be a blind spot somewhere,’ Papa Grim mused.

Solomon caught Davey’s eye and gave him a knowing wink. He pointed down to the arrow on the floor that he’d sprayed that led back the way they’d come.

What happened next was fast, too fast for Davey to do anything in response.

‘There’s the fucking blind spot,’ Solomon said, pulling his tin of spray paint from under his robe and spraying it across the visor of Papa Grim’s helmet.

While Papa Grim cursed and wondered what the hell was going on, Solomon grabbed him round the neck and hurled him bodily from the bike.

He grabbed the keys from the Harley’s ignition and jabbed the biggest key through the tyre of one of the other bikes. Then he hurled them into the distance.

He turned quickly and started smashing Papa Grim’s helmeted head into the ground, hard enough to dent the thick material.

Davey turned and slugged Scout in the mouth.

He fell backwards over his bike and didn’t get up.

‘Quick, Davey lad,’ Solomon shouted, lifting Davey back onto their bike.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ Papa Grim bellowed. Dazed and confused, he went to start his bike only to discover the keys weren’t there.

Solomon tore off in the direction the arrow pointed.

Papa Grim dived onto Scout’s bike and started it up.

‘Fucking catch him,’ he bellowed, trying to wipe the paint from his visor.

Kiera had left her engine running and she tore off after Solomon and Davey.

Solomon’s bike roared as it took them back towards Papa Grim’s camp.

He kept looking back and saw the other bikes far behind them.

‘I think we’re gonna lose them, Davey lad,’ he grinned.

Bullets began to whizz past them, bouncing off the bike’s gleaming paintwork.

They neared the woods where Solomon had been earlier and Davey began to believe they were going to be ok.

Then the next bullet took out the bike’s rear tyre, sending them skidding wildly until they tumbled into the dirt.

They got up and started running almost as soon as they hit the ground. As they entered the treeline, Davey realised that something was wrong with Solomon’s breathing. He was wheezing and spluttering and they’d only been running for a few minutes.

Suddenly the big man doubled over, coughing so hard that Davey feared he was going to blow his throat out.

‘Follow every second arrow, Davey lad,’ he spluttered. ‘It’ll take you to the—’

‘I’m not leaving you.’

Solomon didn’t have the breath to argue.

As the bikes surrounded them, Davey stood between them and the king, who was still bent double, coughing hard.

He’s protected me for so long, now it’s my turn, he thought.

‘Don’t hurt him, he can’t breathe,’ Davey said.

Frankie moved closer. Davey decked him with a wild haymaker.

Papa Grim returned the favour, hitting him with a punch so fast he didn’t even see it.

He felt his jaw jump out of its socket.

His eyes rolled back in his head.

Bloody spittle rolled down his chin.

He landed hard on his back in the dirt.

He tried to force his legs to support him, but he spun and landed on his belly.

Before he could get up, Keira had dived on him.

She was as strong as her frame suggested. He was hopelessly pinned while she tied his arms and legs.

Papa Grim approached the king, tutting and shaking his head.

‘Do what you gotta do,’ Solomon said sadly.

Papa Grim slammed his rifle butt into Solomon’s temple.

The big man took the blow well, but the others set into him now too.

With Davey secured, the four of them were free to give the king a good hiding.

He managed to stagger to his feet and knocked Keira to the side with a wild haymaker.

But he misjudged the distance to Papa Grim and his next swing took him off balance.

Papa Grim dived onto his back and began raining down blows.

The others dived on, helping Papa Grim pin him to the floor.

Davey fought against his binds, but he was powerless to stop as they waded in on Solomon with boots and fists.

What terrified him more wasn’t the attack; it was how weak the King seemed. Davey had seen him fight off much tougher opponents with ease.

They managed to get him semi-conscious and fastened long sections of rope around his limbs.

It took all four of them to bundle him onto the back of one of the bikes.

He spat and snarled at them, but they fastened him down tight.

Scout threw Davey on the back of his bike.

‘We’ll do this my way then,’ Papa Grim grinned.

Then they set off up the long path towards the bleak white walls of the city.