Interrupted Journey

Chapter 7 - Greg arrives

A couple of weeks later, I was asleep in the guard cottage. As the level and scale of attacks had continued to rise, Mike had decided that we needed to hold a 'ready reserve' of troops close to the bridge. This meant that the next watch squad had to be available in the cottage. We could do some work there - there was a small vegetable patch out the back that needed constant weeding - but it made a sizeable dent in the labour available on the farms.

But, as ever, security came first.

I was dragged from my happy dreams by the ringing of the alarm bell. This was a new innovation - from Gary, of course. A long piece of string stretching from the bridge overview trench to a bell in the cottage; pull the string to ring the bell and the reserves magically appear.

As the regulations required, we were out of the door within two minutes - still tightening straps and adjusting clothing but moving. We set off down the lane at a rapid jog - it was a clear, moonlit night and we had no difficulty making our way though by now we all knew the lane so well that we could follow it in the dark. We could clearly hear occasional gunshots though they didn't seem to be coming from the bridge. They were away to our left, somewhere down the main valley from the junction.

"That sounds like an AK," Mike said as we approached.

At the bridge, the atmosphere seemed calm, though tense. "Mike," he announced as he joined the on-duty guard in the trench. "What's up?" There wasn't room for the rest of us in the main trench so we took cover in various shooting positions slightly further back.

"We've got somebody on the bridge, claims they're related to the Drummonds," Laura reported.

When I heard this I realised that there was a figure crouching against the wall at the far end of the bridge, trying to stay in cover in case any stray bullets made it this far.

The younger Drummond lad, who was with us in the reserve party, was summoned forward and Mike gave the command 'light'. A switch was flicked and the bridge area was illuminated.

I can claim this development as one of my own. After some experimentation, I had determined that some of the heavier duty electronics - including batteries, wires and lightbulbs - had survived 'the day', particularly if they weren't in use at the time. By tapping power off the Land Rover's alternator, I had set up a rig to charge batteries which we could then use to light a pair of car headlights.

The Drummond lad confirmed that it was his Uncle Greg who was invited across the bridge and quickly gave us an account of what was going on.

He and a small group of his friends were trying to make their way here with a wagon full of supplies. They had been attacked a couple of miles back and had since been making a fighting retreat towards Lintondale.

"Is that your AK?" Mike asked.

"My what?" Greg replied.

"The machine gun I can hear... is it yours?"

"No."

"OK, Jimbo, Phil, Kat, on me," Mike barked. We moved to join him though we stayed low. "You too, Greg. We'll need you to tell us who's who."

Mike briefly laid out his plan. We would go down to the junction then up onto the hillside on the far side of the road. It was easier to move on that side than this because it was more open. We would make our way down the valley to flank the attackers and resolve the situation.

The first hint of dawn could be seen as we made our way down towards the bridge and, as we started to climb on the far side, we had usable dawn light. This was useful because the path we were looking for - little more than a sheep trail, really - would have been easy to miss in the dark.