Them or Us

I do, and I wouldn’t expect any different. A man in his position is naturally going to want to protect his investment and not give up power. Which is why I didn’t actually say anything about taking over. The best option for all concerned would be to get him on our side.”
    “I can tell you now, that’s never going to happen. Hinchcliffe’s not much of a team player.”
    “I get that impression, and ultimately it’ll be his decision. People who’ve taken charge of places like he has don’t usually tend to give a damn about anyone or anything else. I’m not that naive, Danny. I know what I’m dealing with here.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I’ve done this before. We used to call them dictators. Anyway, my focus is the people, not Hinchcliffe. From what I’ve heard, there are a lot of people in and around Lowestoft who need help. We are thousands strong, with more firepower than—”
    “I know you used to be in government, but that doesn’t mean anything now. I know exactly how Hinchcliffe will react when you turn up. He won’t ever recognize any authority but his own. He’s only out for himself. You turn up and you’ll just be walking into a fight to the death, no matter how many soldiers or guns you’ve got.”
    “You’re probably right,” Ankin says nonchalantly. “Like I said, though, situations like this have been successfully dealt with before. Hinchcliffe isn’t the only person trying to carve out a place in the history books for himself. We have to start somewhere, and we have to make a stand.”
    History books—now there’s a quaint, old-fashioned notion. People don’t bother with any books these days, much less those that are concerned with our irrelevant lives before the war. Ankin just told me he wasn’t naive, but I can’t help wondering if he really does appreciate how deep-rooted the damage inflicted on the population as a whole has been. I look at him across the table. His face is frustratingly difficult to read.
    “Was that your plane that flew over Lowestoft?”
    “Yes.”
    “What exactly was the point of that?”
    “Threefold, I suppose. First, it was a signal for Llewellyn, and his excuse if you like, to come to Norwich and rendezvous with us. We’ve had to carefully coordinate our arrival here.”
    “Coordinate with who?”
    “Llewellyn for a start, and various other people, too. The plane was the easiest way of letting him know it was time. Second, I wanted to stir up the people of Lowestoft and get them thinking. I thought a flyover by a small, unarmed plane would be enough of a distraction to make them ask questions, but not enough for them to misconstrue it as a threat. I didn’t want to bring out the big guns just yet.”
    “And the third reason?”
    “To get Hinchcliffe thinking, too.”
    “You certainly managed that. Fucker was livid.”
    “That really wasn’t my intention. I just wanted him to realize he’s not the only one left with any influence around here.”
    “He’s the only one with any influence in Lowestoft.”
    “At the moment, yes, and we can both say what we like about him, but the fact remains, he’s managed to turn the town into the largest and most established community we’ve yet come across.”
    “It’s hardly a community. It’s just several thousand people who happen to be in the same place, nothing more.”
    “Okay, wrong choice of word perhaps. Settlement, then. Whatever you want to call it, he’s managed to keep a lot of people in order.”
    “The fighters are scared of him, and everyone else is scared of the fighters, that’s all.”
    “What about you?”
    “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared of what Hinchcliffe might do. I’ve seen him in action. He genuinely doesn’t give a shit about anyone else, and he’ll do whatever he thinks he needs to do to make his point. He says everything boils down to the two f ’s—food and fear.”
    “I don’t necessarily agree with that, but I know where he’s coming from.”
    “So how come you know so much about Lowestoft?”
    “We’ve had people in and around the place for a while. Llewellyn risked a hell of a lot for us, and there were several others. Do you know Neil Casey?”
    “I thought he was dead,” I tell him, remembering the day I spent gravedigging, desperately trying to see if one of the bodies I was helping to bury was Hinchcliffe’s missing foot soldier.
    “He wasn’t this morning.” Ankin chuckles to himself. “Last time I spoke to him