The Fog - James Herbert [89]
‘Watch it, Evans, or you’ll be on a charge.’
‘All right, Corp, don’t get nasty. Come on, let’s keep going.’
They continued marching, Evans expounding on his theory. ‘You see, they’ve done it, the scientists. They’ve ’ad an accident at one of their atomic power plants and now they’re doin’ a cover-up. This bloody fog, in actual fact, is a bloody radiation cloud, right, Bernard?’
‘Right, Professor.’
‘That earthquake, the other day. Now what d’you think that was?’
‘An earthquake,’ said Buswell brightly.
‘Oh, shut up, turd-brain. That, Corp, was an underground explosion. And for all we know, it was an atomic explosion. And for all we know, that’s where this radiation came from.’ He nodded his head in appreciation of his own theory.
‘You do talk rubbish, Evans,’ said Wilcox, his attention now directed at the black shape looming ahead of them.
‘Yeah,’ muttered Evans under his breath, ‘and it’s silly sods like you that never learn.’
Wilcox stopped abruptly again, causing Evans to bump into him, and Buswell to bump into Evans.
‘There’s a tunnel up ahead,’ he told them.
‘Right, let’s ’ave a fag now then,’ said Evans, already unbuttoning his tunic.
‘You’ll get me shot, you two,’ grumbled the Corporal, the other two interpreting his remark for one of assent. They squatted just inside the entrance to the tunnel, away from the searching eyes of the other soldiers that were heavily concentrated in the surrounding area.
Evans shielded the flare from his match with a cupped hand, lighting Buswell’s cigarette first and then his own. ‘Oh, sorry, Corp,’ he apologized insincerely, offering the light towards Wilcox.
Wilcox ignored him and huffily lit his cigarette with his own matches. He sat on the rail opposite the two privates.
‘All right, know-all,’ he said acidly to Evans, ‘tell me something: if this thing we’re lookin’ for is radiation, why can’t they find it with detectors?’ He leaned forward, a smile of satisfaction on his face.
‘Because, my old fruit, they’ve already got rid of it,’ said Evans returning the smile smugly.
‘What, with a bloody spray?’ Wilcox sat upright, shaking his head at the private’s stupidity.
‘That’s right. We don’t know what the spray was, do we? They said it was to clear the fog, but what they really meant was it was to clear the radiation.’
‘Gawd ’elp us,’ sighed Wilcox, looking towards the roof of the tunnel.
‘No, no,’ Evans insisted. ‘We don’t know, do we? We don’t know what they’ve invented. Stands to reason they’d ’ave thought of something to get rid of radiation. They’ve ’ad enough time to.’
Wilcox snorted again and Buswell sniggered.
‘We’re the cannon fodder, mate,’ Evans went on. ‘They’ve sent us in to make sure it ’as cleared up.’
‘Without detectors?’
‘Without detectors. They don’t want people to know it’s radiation, do they?’
‘Christ!’ Wilcox gave up. Evans’s absurd logic had been a source of irritation and frustration to him for a long time now, but sometimes it became unbearable. ‘I’m gonna ’ave a quick look up the tunnel then we’ll be on our way.’ He could have sent either of the two men but couldn’t face the protests as to why they shouldn’t and besides, he felt the need to be away from them even if it was only for a few seconds.
Bloody misfits, he cursed inwardly, as he trudged down into the blackness. They hadn’t joined the army for a career as he had. They’d joined because they wanted an easy life – free food, free lodgings, and someone else to make the decisions for them. The Professionals! The Shirkers was more like it. Any chance they had to get out of doing their job, they’d grab at it. They’d got him into enough trouble in the past, these two, that’s why he wasn’t a sergeant yet. You’d think after six bloody years he’d have made sergeant! He’d been in line for it this year until these two monkeys had latched on to him. Why him? What was so fascinating about him that they had to make themselves a nuisance around him? The time they’d got him pissed in Germany while they were on guard duty. They’d started off by persuading