Chapter Three.
She was fresh and clean from the shower, feeling like a human again. Feeling normal. Like she was before infection had hit.
She'd had towel washes and wipe downs in the weeks since infection but the shower was heaven. All four minutes of it. She'd scrubbed her scalp, her ears, every nook and cranny. She'd shaved her armpits. She'd let herself drip silently in the claw-foot tub, listening to the steady drips of water from the shower head until they had run dry and until the chill had forced her out.
It was so peaceful. Such a luxury to have time.
She'd grabbed a huge bath towel from the pile and snugly wrapped it around her chest. Letting herself air dry despite the goosebumps from the chilly room, she'd brushed her teeth for almost seven minutes, sitting on the lid of the toilet and letting her thoughts drift as her teeth had a good,solid scrubbing. No threat of an infection attack. No hurry, no rush. Just time to clean.
A luxury indeed.
Scooping her damp hair into a high bun, she had moved to sit cross legged on the firm, plush bed. The leggings she wore were perfectly stretchy, soft. The sweater she'd tugged from the wardrobe was actually a cashmere, mohair blend and stylishly high-necked. It swamped her frame, though she wasn't sure if that was down to her losing so much weight over the past weeks or just the design of the sweater. Oversize was in fashion before infection hit.
Just as she felt her eyes becoming heavy, there was a dull knock on her door.
She looked at it, waiting for the crass soldier from before to come barging in but nothing followed the knock.
"Uh...come in?" she called, unsure of herself.
The lock rattled for a moment and the door opened, showing a tall, somewhat unshaven man in khakis. He was armed but his hands were empty. She presumed the soldiers would never be unarmed, not anymore.
"Good evening, Elizabeth. If you feel up to it, I've come to escort you to dinner" he told her politely, speaking softly. He had a soft accent.
"Oh" she replied, scooting off the bed. Dinner. Being called down to dinner after a shower and changing into clean, fresh clothes.
Jesus.
"I'm Sergeant Farrell" the solider introduced himself, "sorry. I should have introduced myself first-"
"No, no it's fine" she assured him, stepping out into the corridor. He shut the door behind her, "Thank you. Sergeant, are my friends OK?"
"They're all fine, Selena and Hannah, was it?" when she nodded he continued, "They're still finishing their check, I think the young woman has exhausted herself. Your other friend is just having a quick tour, but he should be finished by now. I imagine he's being shown his room"
She paused for a moment. Didn't the soldier from before say Jim was still at the car? "I thought Jim was being checked last?" she asked.
"I think the shock of recent events has been...overwhelming" the Sergeant took time with his words, she noticed, "to save time, Jim went ahead"
"Oh. Thank you" she said sincerely, glad to have some concise information about the others and also happy to be speaking with a soldier that didn't swear every other sentence, "Poor Hannah..."
"I think she's fine, physically" he commiserated kindly, keeping his pace even with hers as they walked down the stairs, "but your friend and our medic have agreed to give her some medication. I think she's going to be out of it for tonight, to be truthful"
"That's good. Maybe time to just...be away from the world for a bit..." she trailed off, unable to finish her sentence. What was she even trying to say? So what if Hannah could sleep and rest now? Did it matter if she was dosed up with Selena's Xanax? She would be flooded with pain all over again when she woke up.
The poor girl was in for one hell of a tough few months.
"I imagine you've been through a lot together" The Sergeant mused, directing her through a beautiful oak door.
"Hasn't everyone?" Elizabeth asked with a sad shrug.
He'd brought her to a small lounge. It was an intimate room with two small sofas, an arm chair, a crackling fire and walls that were filled with portraits and watercolor scenes. On a low coffee table, gilded with gold - she was sensing a theme within the manor - there were two steaming cups of tea, various small bread rolls and what looked like a hot bowl of stew.
The smell hit her almost immediately.
It was so good.
Her mouth watered and she started forward, flushing as she caught herself.
"Please, don't stop on my account" the Sergeant said, again with kindness, "I believe we'll have a formal dinner tomorrow night but for now, seeing as everyone is in different stages of their enrollment" - how very military, she thought - "we thought it best for you to take dinner as and when, then rest up"
She nodded and followed his arm, his invitation, before settling on the sofa.
She was right, it was stew. A huge bowl, filled to the rim with potatoes, carrots and chunks of beef.
"The beef came from a can" he informed her, somewhat apologetically as he came to sit opposite her, picking up one of the mugs of tea, "nothing will be truly fresh anymore, though we've actually sourced some chickens..."
She moaned in delight as she took a mouthful, not really focusing on his words.
The stew itself was terribly salty, and someone had dumped dry oregano onto the finished product but it was so unbelievably comforting. So...normal.
The Sergeant let her eat in silence, simply seeming to enjoy his tea and allowing himself stare into the fire.
As Elizabeth reached for a bread roll, she grinned upon realizing they were very fresh. Fresh and soft.
"One of our men is a very established baker" the Sergeant supplied, glancing over at his charge, smiling at her delight as she bit into the white, seeded roll.
"-there are some sweet rolls, too. I think these ones have jam inside..." he gestured to a smaller cluster of buns pushed to the side of the platter. They were about the size of a golf ball. Small but plentiful.
"Please" Elizabeth said thickly, swallowing the bread, suddenly feeling very guilty and self conscious, "I feel kind of disgusting, stuffing my face like a pig. Won't you have one?"
"Everything is rationed. The bread was divvied up especially for you, equal portions for your friends, too...though it does look like the kitchen has been a little generous, tonight.."
"I haven't eaten very well since infection hit" she smiled sadly, ripping a small hunk from her bread roll, "I feel like I'll get an upset stomach if I eat too much ...regular...food too soon. Besides, if there's extra, I'm happy to share"
She'd spent the past weeks living off anything from a tin, the occasional pack of biscuits or crisps. Not terrible, but not particularly balanced and always cold. Fleetingly she wondered if this hearty stew would send her to the toilet and then, briefly she wondered if the toilets were in working order.
He watched her thoughtfully, though she couldn't have guessed as to what he was thinking.
He nodded before plucking one of the sweet rolls from its place, "you're generous to share, rations are guarded pretty fiercely..."
Elizabeth hadn't thought of the food before her as being rationed but, musing on it for just a second, she thought it made sense.
Everything was finite.
They ate in silence, the Sergeant once more gazing into the flickering flames, nibbling his bun and sipping his tea while Elizabeth steadily worked on polishing off her stew and all but two of the bread rolls.
She settled herself back into the sofa when she was finished, feeling ridiculously full, as she joined her companion in watching the fire.
"So, Sergeant...how did you find this place?" she asked quietly, stomach full and feeling swollen.
Before he could reply, she smiled tightly "but please don't tell me it's on a map."
"Ah. I see you already asked Mitchell?" the Sergeant smiled ruefully as Elizabeth memorized the name. Mitchell. "well...that is the blunt answer. It's on a map-"
He smiled a little and shook his head, "but we're the only ones that had physical maps, that's why it's ours" he emphasized the word, `ours` and Elizabeth frowned a little.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, everyone, everyone outside of military life that is, relied on their phones or the internet after the infection hit, but services went down so fast...people didn't even have a chance to find an isolated place on maps before it went offline-"
Elizabeth nodded, "I stayed in my apartment...it was on the 17th floor..they were reporting that people should secure themselves and I saw a post..it was my neighbor that shared it, actually...people were going to go down to the tube station by me but" she shrugged a little, not sure how to articulate the fear she'd felt, "I was too scared..everyone was scared and they were running and screaming and I just..I didn't want to be in that kind of panicked crowed..so I stayed..then it went dark"
"You made the right choice. I assume Selena, Jim and poor Hannah and her father had stayed in a safe place too?"
She nodded.
"That saved you. It seems everyone ran to find a safe place but of course there were no safe places. Not then. In London we hear they aimed for the tube, Parliament buildings. We heard reports of Buckingham Palace being charged upon by desperate people...much the same happened here, running anywhere that had once been a symbol of safety; police stations, fire stations. People tried to break into a prison" he shook his head, "it was chaos. Then the power went out, services were cut off and people were left outside, scrambling wildly with the infected on their heels-"
Elizabeth blinked, nodded. She remembered hearing it, even from the thick double glazing of her small flat. She'd moved from the open living and kitchen to the cozy bedroom, to the bathroom and even into the hallway, but the screams, wails, bangs and even explosions had penetrated every room. Her building had fallen silent as chaos seemed to surround it.
It felt like it had happened so fast. A slow burn suddenly exploding.
"Almost nobody has...had...a physical map anymore...perhaps nobody knew where they could grab one in all the confusion. In any case, the younger generations probably wouldn't even know how to navigate a paper map" the Sergeant murmured, "but we have regularly updated maps at our disposal. Of course, we utilized technology but we always had our backups. We were over run and we retreated here...we were the only ones to do so"
He placed his empty cup back on the small table, "and you are the first survivors we have come across"
"Have you been in contact with any one else? Radio or..." she trailed off as the Sergeant shook his head.
"Our Major may very well be the highest ranking person in our sad old country" he murmured, looking into the fire once again.
She glanced down at the rich pattern of the sofa. She remembered that the last update she'd seen regarding the Royal Family and the Prime Minister had been an early one, when the riots had just started to increase. When that's all everyone thought it was. Just riots. Violent and scary, yes, but controllable all the same. Order would be restored swiftly, there had been talks of water cannons being deployed. There would be no evacuation for high ranking officials or the Royals, apparently that was all just nonsense and rumors. It was business as usual and there had been a very firm statement about not letting such violence get the better of ordinary citizens. Assurances of arrest, prosecution...and then everything seemed to implode. TV stations were going off air, social media was exploding before suddenly, it was right there in front of you. On the street.
She sat in thoughtful silence, moving slowly to pluck her tea from the table.
It was lukewarm now but it was strong and comforting all the same.
She blinked, once again looking at the plush material of the sofa, the rug. All the chaos, the fear, the blood, the death. And here she was.
Safe.
"Are we safe here?" she asked, looking into the depths of her tea.
"I'd say so" Sergeant Farrell replied "we're very isolated. We control the only road leading up to the property. The area around us is dense, not easily navigable by foot. Difficult to get to without a vehicle. Yes, I'd say so. You are safe here, Elizabeth. Your friends, too"
She nodded, "thank you.."
She sipped her tea as the fire cracked.
She almost couldn't believe she was experiencing such luxury.
Warm. Safe. Full.
"Elizabeth?" she was being shaken lightly and, dazed but without urgency, she opened her eyes.
"Oh..." she muttered, blinking sluggishly and righting herself. She'd fallen asleep.
"I have to report for duty soon"
She blinked, nodding as she sat up straight. This had been his free time? He'd spent time with her on his break? She yawned.
"Perhaps you'd like to retire for the evening?"
She covered her second wide yawn with the back of her hand. She felt exhausted.
"I suppose the events of the day have caught up with you?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't even realize I was this tired" she muttered, totally caught off guard. She moved forward, sleepily readying herself to collect the empty bowl before he told her kindly not to bother herself.
"Really, Jim will be eating here, too, so it makes more sense to move all the dirty dishes at the same time-"
He opened the door, holding it open for her. With an apologetic, thankful smile, she followed his arm.