The Village King Read Online Free Page A

door again. Bleary eyed, and squinting in the daylight, Gary cracked the
door. “I’m up, I’m up.” Stephen looked inside and saw Phil stir under a mess of
blankets.
    “Everything okay?”
    “Yeah, yeah,” said Gary, stepping
out onto the path. He had no boots on but had slept in his clothes and he
shouldered on a green jacket. He tiptoed off to the toilet.
    “I’ve got the kettle on,” Stephen
called after him. “Phil? Breakfast, son.”
    There was a groan of agreement so
Stephen left him to it and went back next door. Inside, Alana was kneeling down
in front of the fire. He saw it had started to go out but she was nurturing it
back into existence.

8
     
    A fter
breakfast of a
couple of cans of beans shared between the five of them, Stephen got them ready
to go for a walk round the village. “I’ll show you about.”
    Alana went to lift the shotgun
but Gary motioned to stop her. “They won’t like you walking round with that.”
    She gave a look that asked him
why she should give a shit. Gary laughed out loud. “I’m just saying.” Then he
had a think and looked at Stephen, who shrugged agreement. Gary said, “Look, I
like the shotgun. Maybe we could trade.”
    “Trade?” Alana was sceptical.
Karen sat on the mattress and folded her hands patiently. Phil was agog.
    Gary reached under his jacket to
the waistband of his trousers and unclipped a holster. He held it out to her.
“Trade.”
    She paused, reading the
situation. With the shotgun still on the floor behind her, she took the holster
from Gary and pulled out a small pistol. It was a Glock 26 and, like Stephen’s,
it had been liberated from two dead policemen near Morpeth.
    Stephen had seen Alana expertly
reload a shotgun, but he still asked, “You know how to use that?”
    She ignored him and handed Karen
the holster. She removed the clip, saw it was full, racked the slide a couple
of times to check it was empty then dry fired it towards the fireplace. It
clicked sweetly. Alana held the gun out at arm’s length and checked the sights.
Gary and Stephen looked at each other, probably thinking the same thing.
    “Where’d you learn to do that?”
Stephen asked.
    She looked at him, the hint of a
smile at the sides of her mouth. It seemed to Stephen that she liked to keep
him guessing. Five years of surviving, he thought, made you keep a few secrets.
She palmed the magazine back in and took the holster off Karen, placing the
pistol carefully in. She came to a decision. “Trade this gun as is for the
shotgun?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Gary but Stephen
saw he’d fallen for her trap though he said nothing, amused.
    “Well, help yourself” said Alana,
holding onto the pistol but still keeping herself between Gary and the shotgun.
“You’ll be wanting some shells too? Trade?”
    “What?” Gary was mad and he
shuffled on his feet, looking to Stephen.
    Alana said, “Two more pistol
bullets for each shell I’ve got.”
    Stephen saw Alana had her hand on
the grip ready to pull the pistol. “You’re taking advantage of our good nature.”
    Phil had shuffled into the back
corner. Karen just sat with her hands folded.
    “What makes you think we’ve even
got that many bullets?” Gary had backed off physically but he was just as
angry.
    “Oh, I think you boys have got
stuff.” Alana looked at the ajar door. She stepped between the men and pushed
it shut. She looked out the window as if looking for someone. “I think you’ve
got stuff but you need more to get you through the winter.”
    Stephen and Gary looked at each
other. Gary’s eyes betrayed she was right. Alana said, “Thought so. Those tins
you brought in. I reckon there’s more of them but you have to leave one person
here while you go out alone. Want to hear an idea?”
    Stephen didn’t want to let her
know she was right but when she had tested the pistol he and Gary had both
realised there may be a way round their predicament of having to be here to
guard their stash, while the