Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 621.

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Windward Delphiniums
(aka Bike)
Part 621
by Angharad
       
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Tom loaded the cases into the lift and took them down. I went down the stairs clutching hold of the girls, ready to run like hell if the need arose. Surely, no one would try anything in a busy hotel like this? No? What about a busy cop shop, then? They’d already attacked one of those. My stomach was flipping over as we got to the bottom of the stairs and the girls complained I was holding them too tightly.

Tom was talking to someone as another person picked up the cases. If they were lost, he could do the shopping next time. It would serve him right. I looked at the person to whom Tom was talking. He looked vaguely familiar. He saw me staring.

“Surely you haven’t forgotten me already, Cathy?”

“Um, sort of, I’m sorry.”

“Jason, remember now?”

“Simon’s lawyer friend?”

“Exactly.”

“Where is he?”

“Who?”

“Simon.”

“That I don’t know. Henry asked me to escort you and your family to Stanebury.”

“On your own?”

“Not quite, I have a convoy of three Land Cruisers.”

“We’ve suffered quite a lot this last few days, so you’ll understand why I don’t feel too safe about all this.”

“Perfectly.” He leant across to me and whispered, “We are armed and dangerous.”

“What with?”

“Shotguns.”

“They had Kalashnikovs.”

“Yeah, and still they couldn’t kill you.”

“I think my nine lives might be close to running out.”

“Come off it, Cathy, you’re far too beautiful and clever to succumb to some rancid Ruskie.”

“I don’t know, Jason.”

“What’s the alternative? Staying here? I don’t think so. Too difficult to defend.”

“What about Stanebury?”

“Stanebury is a fortified manor house. It was designed to be defended.”

“Against local yokels with claymores and pitchforks? Yeah fine, what about rocket propelled grenades and machine guns?”

“The walls are six feet thick, for goodness sake, it’s like a bunker.”

“Bunkers can be destroyed.”

“So can anywhere, Cathy. Unless you ask the PM to let you borrow the bunker underneath Number Ten, nowhere in this island is going to be entirely safe.”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, I have a spare shotty you can borrow.”

“I probably couldn’t hit a cow’s arse with a shovel.”

“You will with this, it has a good field of fire and a pump action.”

“It sounds American.”

“It is.”

“Geez, I’ll feel like a cowboy.”

“As long as you don’t want to look at the wiring, we’ll be alright.”

“Wiring?”

“Yes, you know, cowboy electricians and so on.”

“Ah, yes, quite,” I said, while thinking something very different–like what planet is he from?

I reluctantly got into the vehicle in the front. Tom got into the second one and the luggage was in the third one. I counted three drivers plus four other souls. I hoped they gave Tom a shotgun, at least he knew which end to hold, having one of his own.

As we set off, my tummy was jumping about all over the place. “Have you seen Henry?”

“He’s on his way to Stanebury.”

“Oh, he was in plaster last time I saw him.”

“That’s off and he’s walking with a stick.”

“A sword stick, I expect.”

“Probably.”

“What about, Stella and her baby?”

“Under guard in hospital, both were fine this morning.”

“Oh good, has she bonded with the baby at all?”

“Couldn’t tell you the fine detail.”

“Where is Simon? You must know if you know about the others?”

“I don’t, it’s very hush hush.”

“I don’t like this, Jason.”

“What?”

“All this violence, armed guards and killing people.”

“Think of it like a pheasant or grouse shoot.”

“I don’t shoot things, Jason. I don’t approve of primal urges–well not the hunter gatherer type. I don’t need to kill things to feel complete.”

He blushed. “You’re not one of the anti-hunt brigade are you?”

“Would it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

“I don’t believe in cruelty. I see hunting as cruel. I take a moral stance on it. I don’t like guns, they’re designed for killing things.”

“Not always, you can shoot targets and clays. Bows and arrows are designed for killing too.”

“Originally, yes, but it’s illegal in this country.”

“I’d heard it said that someone recently killed with a bow and arrow.”

I blushed profusely, made worse when Trish said, “My Mummy has a bow and arrows.”

“Oh,” now Jason blushed. “It wasn’t you, was it?”

“Yes,” said Trish, “She shot some baddies.”

“Good lord, I had no Idea. Our very own Maid Marion.”

“Why can’t I be Robin Hood? A woman plays him in panto.”

“Yes, why not, okay, welcome to Sherwood, Robin.”

“I don’t have a bow, the police took it.”

“Did they now? I’m sure they’ll have one at Stanebury, they have most everything else, including crossbows.”

“Never tried one of those.”

“Mummy shooted the baddies with a gun,” said Mima, looking bored at our conversation.

“So you have fired a gun?”

“Not really, I fired a Kalashnikov on automatic until the magazine ran out.”

“Was it you who saved those coppers?”

“That was accidental. I was trying to save my kids and my own skin, the coppers were with us, and had been shot because of it.”

“Pity handguns aren’t legal, I could show you how to fire one, they’re a bit more portable.”

“I don’t want to learn how to shoot people, I don’t want to shoot people; I don’t want to stay in a world where guns are everyday items. I hate guns.”

“Okay, okay. Hopefully once all this is over, you can go back to your house and live happily ever after.”

“You think something is going to happen, don’t you?”

“Not here, but at Stanebury. You and Henry are the bait.”

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