Hater (Hater #1)

Hater (Hater #1) Page 29

It's eleven o'clock and Lizzie, Harry and the kids are sitting in the living room. There's something happening outside. The others haven't noticed yet. I don't want the children and Liz getting upset again so I haven't said anything to anyone. It started about half an hour ago. I've heard heavy vehicles moving in the distance and the occasional scream or shout. I've also heard gunfire.

I've tried looking through every window in the flat but I can't see what's going on out there. I have to know. I make sure the others are all distracted then creep out of the apartment. I stop halfway across the lobby. Everything looks just as it did when I was out here yesterday but today the building feels different because of what's upstairs. I stop at the bottom of the staircase and, just for a second, I think about turning round and going back into the flat again. I'll get a better view from the flats on the other floors but I'm worried about going upstairs. I don't think there's anyone else up there - the car belonging to the people on the top floor is still missing and I can't hear anything. But what about the body? I know the man on the landing is dead but have I got the balls to pass his corpse? My head is suddenly filled with stupid nightmare images of his lifeless hands reaching out to grab me. The sound of another gun shot in the distance spurs me into action. I take a deep breath and run up the stairs, not stopping until I've reached the flat on the top floor. I peer in through the half-open door to make sure it's still empty then step inside.

There are only two floors between our flat and this one but the view from up here is completely different. Those extra few feet of height make all the difference and from here I can see for miles around. I can see almost all of our estate and I can see the city centre in the distance. This morning the world looks like the TV footage that gets sent home by war correspondents. The skyline is dark and grey. Dirty, thick smoke is climbing from the blackened shells of burnt-out buildings. There's nothing much left of the medical centre on Colville Way. The streets are deserted.

How am I supposed to protect my family from this? I can sense the danger increasing almost by the second and there's nothing I can do to stop it. I think of the kids downstairs and I feel terrified and helpless. They're depending on me and I don't know what I can do to keep them safe.

I can see movement in the distance now. Can't see exactly what it is from here. I turn around and grab the video camera I saw when I was up here yesterday. Christ knows what the men who lived here used it for. I've got no interest in finding out. I take the camera over to the window and switch it on. There's hardly any battery power left. I find the zoom lens control and set it so that it's focussed as far as possible into the distance. It takes me a few seconds to aim the camera in the right direction and to relocate the movement I've just seen.

I think I'm looking at the area around Marsh Way but I'm not sure. Whatever the name of the road I'm watching is, there are two large green-grey trucks driving along it. On either side of the trucks are lines of uniformed figures. Bloody hell, they're armed soldiers wearing what looks like full battle gear. They have masks or visors obscuring their faces. The trucks stop mid-way along the street and the guards which surround them split into smaller groups. Some remain close to the back of the vehicles while others move towards the houses on either side of the road. From here I can only see one group of figures clearly but I guess they're all doing the same thing. It looks like a house-to-house inspection.

The trooper at the front of the group hammers his fist on the door. Christ, they're not waiting to be invited inside. Four of the soldiers in the group of five force their way into the house as soon as the door is opened. The fifth uniformed figure follows them inside carrying something. It's difficult to keep the camera focussed from this distance and I can't tell whether it's a clipboard or one of those tablet computer things he's holding. They all disappear into the building and I wait for them to re-emerge. And I wait. And I wait.

Elsewhere along the street the same thing is happening. Groups of soldiers are splintering away from the trucks and are checking each house in turn. I look up from the video camera viewfinder screen for a second and catch sight of more movement in another road nearby. Same thing's happening again. I squint as the sun breaks through the heavy cloud for the first time today and I can see at least two more clusters of trucks and soldiers working their way along other streets, all within a few hundred meters radius of each other. I focus back on the house I was originally watching in Marsh Way as the five soldiers march back out and immediately turn their attention to the building next door, leaving a dazed and bewildered middle-aged couple to timidly close their front door behind them.

There are helicopters flying over the town. Strange. Maybe they're coordinating the movements of the troops on the ground?

The soldiers I've been watching have forced their way into another house now. They reappear in less than a minute, this time dragging someone behind them. I can't make out whether it's a man or a woman but they're kicking and punching and doing all they can to get away. I can see that it's a woman now. She's only half-dressed. They've turned her around and they're marching her towards the nearest truck. She's still fighting. As they push her towards the back of the vehicle she somehow manages to free herself from the soldiers' hold. She starts to run down the road and... and now I can't believe what I'm seeing. One of the soldiers steps forward and raises his rifle. Instead of chasing after her he simply shoots her in the back. Two of them pick up the fallen body and throw it unceremoniously into the back of one of the trucks.

They must finally be flushing out the Haters. Thank God for that.

It's about time. I hope the bastards get everything they deserve.