Free Hooded Man by Paul Kane Page A

what was happening. Andy and Nathan had heard the racket and ventured down from the upper field. Graham Leicester was approaching from up the street, running towards Clive. “Men...” he spluttered, out of breath.
    But then Clive saw for himself. They rode up the small street behind Graham, just as Clive had done all that time ago when he first came upon this place. There were three on bikes, the rest in jeeps. All wore uniforms, but as they got closer Clive could see they were a mishmash of Army, Navy and Air Force, British and US; obviously stolen. As were the weapons they were brandishing, heavy duty rifles and pistols. Some looked uncomfortable handling them, others looked very much at home. One of the soldiers on the bikes stretched out a leg and kicked Graham over into the dirt when he passed.
    It was now that Clive realised his fundamental error. In seeking to gather together people who could make this community flourish, leaving behind the violent and the psychopathic, he’d left this place wide open to attack. Hope had no defences whatsoever, and they’d been too reliant on its isolated location to shield them from the outside world. Now that outside world had found them, and they were about to pay the price.
    Several men climbed from the jeeps, their boots stomping the street. And their apparent leader, his paunch so big he only just fit inside, got out too. Andy ran at one of the soldiers, swinging a hoe, knocking the man to the ground. For his trouble he was hit in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. He went down hard and stayed there.
    The man with the belly waved his hand, giving the signal to open fire. There was some hesitation, but then muzzles flashed, spitting bullets at the cottages which housed the people of Hope. These men didn’t appear to care whether there were folk inside or not. Windows shattered, walls were pock-marked. The sign they’d made came crashing down to the ground. From somewhere Clive heard screaming, but couldn’t tell if it came from a man, woman or a child. Gwen held on to him, and he pressed her head into his shoulder, covering her ears.
    How could I have been so stupid?
    The fat man gave another signal and Clive watched as small objects were tossed at the cottages, and at the pub. Seconds later, the first of the grenades exploded. There followed two or three more, drawing out the rest of the inhabitants of this place. They fell to the ground, covering their heads. Behind Clive and Gwen, Darryl appeared, his mouth gaping open. Then Clive saw June with the kids; she had Luke in her arms, crying, while Sally was holding her hand.
    This isn’t what I promised them.
    Their leader held up a hand for them to cease, simultaneously pulling a pistol from a holster with the other. “That’s enough,” he shouted. Clive detected a slight Hispanic accent when the man spoke. He walked down the small street, eyes darting left and right, as if daring anyone else to trying something.
    “So, people of...” The man looked down at the fallen sign they had made. He chuckled. “People of Hope. My name is Javier. Major Javier. Who here speaks for you?”
    Clive made to move forwards, but Gwen tugged at his shirt. She shook her head, but he patted her hand to tell her it was okay. “That would be me,” Clive called out.
    Javier looked him up and down, perhaps wondering how such a man could have banded together the group; how he could have commanded such respect and loyalty without the threat of fear. “And you are?”
    “Clive Maitland,” he said, trying to toughen up his voice but failing miserably. “And I demand that you –”
    “Demand? You demand? ” He lifted his pistol and pointed it at Clive, who bit his lip. “Well, let me tell you what I demand, little man. I represent the new power in the region and he has sent me out to meet his... subjects. In fact, he’s sent out many more of his men to do the same. His name is De Falaise of Nottingham Castle, so remember