Chapter 5 - Collection

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I was up before dawn the next morning, fumbling around to find my clothes in the dark then stumbling downstairs to the kitchen which was lit by a single candle. Mike and Jimbo were already at the table.

Alice was busy at the stove and mugs of her infamous tea were quickly passed around. "Ma'am," Jimbo commented when he tasted it, "you know how to make a proper brew."

He was rewarded with one of her rare smiles.

Bowls of porridge quickly followed. I sat down and started to eat mechanically - it was too early for me!

Susan appeared, wearing one of my old jumpers over a pair of pyjamas, and pointed out some small boxes that I hadn't noticed, piled on one of the kitchen worktops. "Laura and I were chatting last night," she told us. "If you find anything, you might be able to use those boxes to persuade other people to stay out of your way... I think she called them MREs."

"Meals Ready to Eat," Mike told her, "Good idea." He started loading them into our rucksacks which were leaning against a wall, ready for the off.

She came and sat next to me and curled up on the seat, obviously chilly, so I put my arm round her as I finished my porridge. She snuggled against me."

"OK, ready to leave in five!" Mike instructed us as he left the room.

"Go back to bed," I told Susan when I'd finished my porridge and was slurping the last of my tea.

"I'm up now, I might as well get moving," she said with a yawn and a stretch. "Now go and brush your teeth and make yourself beautiful. You don't want to keep Mike waiting!" I hurried to do as I was told.

Two minutes later, I was ready. I grabbed my pack and rifle and headed for the door. The kiss I was given as I went out attracted some good-natured teasing. I jumped on the bike that someone had helpfully put just by the back door and we were ready for the off.

There was just the faintest smudge of dawn over the eastern hills as we rolled down the lane past the farms and we were steering mostly from memory, particularly under the trees.

"Laura! Three incoming on bikes," Mike called as we approached the bridge. I looked around but could not see any sign of the guards - I knew they had been digging trenches yesterday afternoon.

"Get in the habit of not looking," Mike instructed me as we rode onto the bridge. "You don't want to give away their position."

"Makes sense," I replied as I changed down gears for the short climb up to the junction on the other side. Here we turned left for the long, easy run down the main valley to the little town of Grasswell.

By now the birds were in full song but it was still chilly and I was glad Susan had reminded me to pack my gloves the night before. We rolled past a few farmhouses and through a couple of hamlets but didn't see anyone about. It was still too early. Our only encounter was with a flock of sheep that had wandered into the road causing us to brake sharply.

There were a couple of people about on the streets in Grasswell but we were so quiet on the bikes that we were past them and away before they noticed us. Turning left at the junction in the middle of town, we headed out to the New Road.

The first lorry we found was depressing. Food, completely useable food, had been strewn out of the back and was now just lying in the road, spoilt by the rain. The three of us stood - still astride our bikes - just staring.

"People do know that they're going to be starving to death within a couple of weeks, don't they?" I managed to ask at last.

"Doesn't look that way," Mike replied. "Come on, there's nothing for us here."

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