Chapter 28
Smoke began to creep into their lungs. It was inescapable and relentless. A bin fire can be smelt for miles with a mild wind; a thousand cars is a different proposition. Slow burning plastic and upholstery was frequently replaced by sudden bursts of exploding fuel and metal. The smell lingered, trapped at a low height within the streets.
Morrison had joined the convoy from the air, the helicopter whipping the smoke into a fury before its dilution into clarity. It was impossible for the convoy to manoeuvre around the wreckages and debris. They looked at the city they knew so well and felt like tourists in a nightmare. The windows of the bus became screens of a cinema showing an anarchic world they had never imagined possible.
Jacob watched as a mother and two children struggled to navigate the congested paths that were often impassable. They stopped and looked, unsure of what they were seeing as the bus passed them by. These were the real victims, Jacob thought. He suddenly became filled with guilt as he thought of their time in the forest. The events he had experienced were a whirlwind of excitement, new emotions and worst of all brief moments of happiness. He had to admit to himself that he had enjoyed himself, while families such as the one they had just passed were simply trying to survive amongst the chaos.
Isabelle sat next to Jacob.
“It’s not your fault, Jacob,” she said.
“What isn’t?” he replied.
“All of this - that family. You can’t feel responsible. I can read you quite well now - don’t blame yourself.”
“It doesn’t feel right; that family staying here while we were down there messing around. It’s not good enough.”
“What we did was necessary. It might have seemed like we were running away, but we achieved something. And we had to do it in a certain way.”
Jacob turned back to the window.
“I’m not leaving here,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not leaving here until all of this is over - I can’t.”
“You may not have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice. That family had a choice and they chose to stay.”
“You don’t know that, Jacob. They may have had a family member turn, or missed the evacuation calls. People were probably hiding in their basements.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I hope they understand we didn’t run off and leave them. Many will probably think we did.”
“They probably do; but when thousands of people return on the trains, they may begin to understand what we were trying to do.”
“I hope so.”
Jacob’s eyes remained fixed on the outside. He didn’t want to look but couldn’t fight the urge. The bus moved at an agonising pace. As they passed a small side street, Jacob saw a figure who struck him as different. The figure was standing, feet spread apart in the middle of the street looking in their direction with the hood of their coat pulled over their head. The image was striking, even more so because Jacob thought he saw a glimpse of an object in the person’s hand. He couldn’t be sure, but he was convinced it was a bottle. The image made Jacob feel uneasy and caused him to look forwards out of the front window. After a few seconds his curiosity was too great and he turned again. Down the next side street, the same figure stood in the same pose.
“I’m not sure if I’m being paranoid,” Jacob called out. “But I think we’re being targeted.”
“Tell me what you saw,” said an agent.
Jacob explained what he saw to the agent who immediately put Lanegan in the stairwell well of the bus for protection before moving to the window to take a look. Nothing happened for a few seconds until the figure appeared again; this time clearly at the end of a throwing motion.
“EVERYONE DOWN,” the agent shouted.
A Molotov cocktail cracked the side of the bus causing flames to explode into life.
“We are under attack,” the agent said. “Everyone stay low and prepare to leave the bus.”
The explosion brought the attention of further rioters who followed the sound to where they had stopped. The temptation to attack the bus was too great for them as missiles pelted the bus from every angle.
“Right, we’re leaving,” said the agent. “Can you see a safe area?” he shouted to his colleague.
“I don’t think we need to worry, it’s the bus that they want,” he replied.
“Everybody out of the bus. Straight out of the door and run to that park over the road. Don’t look back, I’ll be watching you,” he said to each of them as they left.
One by one they jumped from the bus and sprinted to the play park. Last off were the agents and Lanegan. As they stepped off of the bus, a man ran towards the bus and started to smash the windscreen with a metal bar. Lanegan stopped a few metres from the bus and turned to look at the man. He showed no interest in any of the passengers. Lanegan studied his emotions as with each strike a vicious growl echoed the cracking of glass.
“We need to move Prime Minister.”
“Wait here,” Lanegan said.
“We can’t let you …”
Lanegan turned and looked at the agents.
“Wait – here,” he said sternly.
The agents reluctantly stood their ground but radioed Morrison to tell him to keep an eye on them from above.
Everyone watch as Lanegan walked towards the man. As he got within a few paces the man stopped and turned to face him. Both men looked each other in the eye, both unsure of what should or would happen next.
“Do you know who I am?” asked Lanegan.
“Of course I do,” replied the man.
“Can you tell me why you are hitting the bus with that bar?”
“No – You can’t stop this, you do know that.”
“What is your name?”
“Dylan, John Dylan.”
“Hello John. We are trying to change things, so that you and all the other people affected by this might be able to stop.”
“It’s not that simple, it swells within you, it just happens and there isn’t a way to fight it. You should go and never come back. You don’t know how lucky you are.”
“John, there is no way to escape it. It’s world-wide and could happen to any of us at any moment. And you are wrong we are all affected in one way or another. Tell me what can do to help you.”
“I don’t know. Just do whatever it takes before we are all living in hell.”
Lanegan reached out his hand which the man shunned suspiciously.
“Are you going to arrest me?” he said, looking up at the helicopter.
“I’m not the police, John. Do you think you should be arrested?”
“Of course, look what I’m doing.”
“Do you have a family?”
John Dylan stepped forward as a controlled warning.
“You’re not going to use my family against me, I won’t let you.”
“Okay, do you work, John? Is there anything good that you can use to fight this - a reason to stop?”
“I did – as a social worker if you can believe it. I don’t suppose I’ll be getting my job back any time soon, will I?” he said, before walking off slowly.
Lanegan watched as John Dylan walked away, curious as to what would trigger his next episode. As he walked away he turned to look at Lanegan.
“John – We’re going to make this right. It will be normal again,” called lanegan.
“This is normal,” John replied. “It’s the most natural thing I’ve ever done.”
Lanegan watched him turn the corner. It was the first rioter he had spoken to. The others felt safer after watching and walked to where Lanegan was standing.
“Are you okay, Tom?” asked Isabelle.
“He said it was the most natural thing he had ever done,” said Lanegan.
“What is?” asked Stephanie.
“The violence – him using that bar against the windscreen.”
“He’s confused, Tom.”
“Not about t
hat he wasn’t. He seemed comfortable with it; he accepted it.”
“This may not be a bad thing,” said Professor Kilmister. “He recognises a change and it feels natural to him. If it can happen once, then possibly it can happen again. By the sounds of your experiences recently, you have all felt something similar - in a slightly more positive light perhaps. He needs something to change him from darkness to light and that is what you are attempting to offer.”
“You’re right Professor,” said Lanegan. “The thing that is so terrifying is that he was so – human. There was no hostility towards me; I didn’t feel threatened at all.”
Lanegan walked away from the group and turned sharply.
“We walk from here. The bus will just put us in unnecessary danger. Radio Morrison and tell him to go and help the other vehicles; we know our way from here. From now on we walk amongst them.”