Regeneration

Chapter 35 - Let the Dust Rise

Tucked away and hidden under the blanket of the dense forest trees, the small community reminded me of one of those lost villages you would read about or see on the Discovery channel.

Tiny pebbles crunched under our boots as we made our way through the settlement. It was strange, I had grown so accustomed to deserted streets, abandoned buildings and places so void of life that I was in wonderment at something that should have been normal to me.

I felt their gazes focused on us as I gazed back, my eyes traveling, taking in each of their faces, wondering what they had been through and what it took to get here.

We were led to what seemed to be their training ground. There we found the man who appeared to be the leader of the camp.

"I trust that you slept well, must have been knackered, the night you had," he said as we joined him looking on at those in training in the distance, "Allow me to formally introduce myself, Bawden's the name and this is my daughter Reya," he motioned to the woman who had led us here.

"We slept fine," Romero replied.

"So, Spanish Intelligence?" Bawden questioned, "You must be very skilled, it's no wonder you have survived out there for so long, for some people, it's dumb luck, but I have a feeling that's not the case for you lot."

Romero and Marco stayed quiet.

"Had a look at those files," Bawden eyed them, "Quite a bit of information about those things out there. Hunters, they're called apparently?"

"A bit nosey huh mate?" Marco raised an eyebrow at Bawden.

"That was classified information," Romero held Bawden's gaze.

"You see, I like to know who I let into our camp," Bawden went on,  "I'm in...well was in law enforcement myself, retired Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police,"

"Hmm, hardly the same thing," Marco squinted at Bawden.

Ignoring him, Bawden continued,  "I was fixing to lay back in the Caribbean with an endless supply of whiskey right before all of this mess, I can tell you now mate, given the state of things, I don't think the world can recover from this. So, classified information is just information now."

"This virus began in Spain, how do we know, Spanish Intelligence are not the ones behind it." Bawden's face was like stone.

"That's just like you Brits," Marco scoffed, "You a-"

"The bastards who did this aren't government," Romero cuts Marco off, "Spanish Intelligence tried to stop it. The files belonged to the man who created the virus."

Bawden eyed them for a long moment, "You have no way to prove that to me."

"We don't," Romero replied.

"You could just kill us based on your suspicion that we are responsible for this." Romero held his gaze, "But, you don't strike me as that kind of man." His eyes traveling around the haven Bawden had set up.

"Why are you really in Brighton?" Bawden asked deflecting Romero’s previous statement.

"We believe the man responsible to be here."

"And your plan is to find him and kill him?" Bawden raised a brow at them, "Doesn't seem worth the risk."

At a lack of response, Bawden rubbed his chin in thought before he spoke again, "You all don't come across as bad people either, and trust me we've come by a few of them," Bawden motioned around him, "I made this place to protect people, and if you know something that can help me protect them better... I saw the word 'cure' scribbled in red in one of the files, is there one? Is that why you're here?" Bawden looked at Romero with a mixture of subtle hope and desperation in his eyes.