<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><FictionBook xmlns="http://www.gribuser.ru/xml/fictionbook/2.0" xmlns:l="http://www.w3.org/1999/xlink"><description><title-info><genre>sf_postapocalyptic</genre><genre>sf_horror</genre><author><first-name>Jack</first-name><last-name>Lewis</last-name><home-page>http://www.rulit.me/a/?id=108958</home-page></author><book-title>Fear the Dead: A Zombie Apocalypse Book</book-title><annotation><p>
	Kyle Vauss wanders alone across the ruins of England trying to block out his past. If he can't, he'll never be able to shut out the memory of his wife getting torn to shreds by the infected.�Fifteen years ago the world fell apart. By day the zombie infected swarm the streets, and at night the stalkers come out of their nests to kill. Mankind is on the brink of extinction.�When a teenager called Justin tricks Kyle into taking him along, Kyle has to learn to trust others, and himself, again. He doesn't want to face his past, but there are some things that you can't turn away from.�A gripping story of survival that zombie apocalypse fans will love.</p></annotation><coverpage><image l:href="#cover"/></coverpage><lang>en</lang><sequence name="Fear the Dead" number="1"/></title-info><document-info><author><first-name>Lewis,</first-name><last-name>Jack</last-name></author><program-used>calibre 2.5.0, fb2cut 2.5.4, fb2cut 2.6.2</program-used><date>29.7.2015</date><src-url>http://www.rulit.me</src-url><id>999bead2-ef28-41ac-a9aa-0c32485084f4</id><version>1.0</version></document-info><publish-info><publisher>Kindle Edition</publisher><year>2015</year></publish-info></description><body><section><p><strong>Fear the Dead</strong></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong/></p><p><strong>A novel by Jack Lewis</strong><strong/></p><p><strong/></p></section><section><p><strong/></p><empty-line/><p><strong/></p><p>Copyright
2015 by Jack Lewis. All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication
may be replicated, redistributed, or given away without the prior written
consent of the author.</p></section><section><empty-line/><empty-line/><p>This
book is dedicated to my wife, who has the patience to listen to me, and to my
mum, who knows that asking for honest feedback means �tell me what you like
about the book�.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong/></p><p><strong>Chapter 1</strong></p><p>Black shadows slid from
the spines of the trees and covered the woods in darkness. Night was nearly
here, and soon it wouldn't just be the infected lurking in the forest; the
stalkers were coming.</p><p>The rain beat down on the
hood of my windbreaker in heavy patters that danced off the top of my head and seemed
to weigh me down with each drip. My shoulders were slick with water from where
the waterproof lining of my coat had faded. Across to my left, in the distance,
an infected stumbled through the trees, its clumsy footsteps crunching on the
twigs beneath it.</p><p>I reached for my knife. I
thought about getting out my revolver from my bag, but gunshots were the last
thing I needed. That was a sure fire way of getting a crowd of infected to come
looking for you, drawn in by the prospect of a meal. I walked quieter and
breathed a little softer.</p><p>The sky darkened a shade.
My stomach felt empty and ached with hunger. My legs were leaden and each step
was a chore. I needed to sit down, I needed food, and I had to get to shelter
before the stalkers came.</p><p>There was a town called
Vasey less than an hour�s walk away. There would be walls and a roof to guard
me from the elements and the things that walked in the night. There would be
fires � warmth - and God, maybe even a beer. My mouth watered at the idea of
gulping on a bottle of cold ale.</p><p>The problem with going to
town was there would also be people there, and lots of them. Vasey was the
biggest settlement of survivors in Lancashire, and it was as safe a place you
could get in this new world. Well, everyone called it the new world, but really
it had only been fifteen years since the dead had first started rise and eat
people. A lot of things had changed since then. People had changed since then,
and not for the better. No, I would give town a miss. I�d learnt better than to
seek out the company of people, and I�d learnt there was no man or women who
cared about your survival as much as they did their own, no matter how much
they tried to believe in their pretend civilisation.</p><p>I thought about my old
life. I thought about Clara, and the way she used to tug at my hand when she
saw an infected, about how good I used to feel knowing I could keep her safe.
So much for that.</p><p>The sky was darkening, I
had pangs of pain in my stomach and my legs felt like they were going to
collapse underneath me, but I couldn't go to town. There were too many people.
I looked around me. To my left the lone infected seemed to be walking in the
other direction. I moved my hand away from my knife, knowing that for now at
least, the danger had passed. A lone infected fifty metres away didn�t pose too
much of a threat to me. Their vision wasn't good and nor was their sense of
smell, unlike the stalkers. If that had been a stalker it would have seen me straight
away and it would have been leaping through the trees, pouncing on me before I
could even reach for my knife.</p><p>I shuddered at the
thought. I pulled my hood further over my head and walked on through the wet
woods, and after a while I saw a wooden building. It looked like some kind of
storage shed, small with a jagged tin roof and wooden panelled walls that
looked like they would blow down in a gust. Not a place to wait out the
apocalypse, but it would be good for tonight. I would get in there, put down my
stuff and maybe even grab a few hours of much-needed sleep, because it had been
god knows how long since I had last got some of that. There was something a
little more reassuring about putting your back against a solid wall than the
trunk of a tree.</p><p>As well as getting some
sleep, I could even live a little and risk cooking something. My mouth started
to water at the prospect of eating for the first time in hours. I didn't have
much on me - probably just some tins of beans and sachets of soup - but it
would taste like a kings feast, and man was my stomach aching for it.</p><p>I got closer to the shack,
and my heart sank.</p><p>Through a small frosted
glass window I could see a dim light flickering. I couldn't make out anything
else inside, but light meant people, and that meant I couldn�t stay there. I
turned and started to walk away from the shack, my stomach reeling from the
prospect of food that had just been snatched from me. My legs felt a hundred
times heavier and the pack on my back, filled only with my meagre possessions,
felt like a boulder. If I didn�t find somewhere soon, I was going to drop.</p><p>Behind me a door opened.
I span round, reached to my belt and in one smooth motion slipped my knife into
my hand and held it ready to strike.</p><p>"Whoa. You won't be
needing that tonight."</p><p>A man stood in the
doorframe. He was tall, bald and a wild beard sprouted from his chin. He wore a
baggy white t-shirt covered in red food stains, and jeans that were splattered
in patches of mud. His fly was unzipped, and on his feet he wore unfastened
boots. I got the feeling he hadn�t expected company outside the shack. He took
a step toward me.</p><p>"Evening." I
said, and looked away. I turned and started to walk in the opposite direction,
having no interest in conversation.</p><p>Behind me boots crunched
on the forest floor.</p><p>"Gimme a minute,
stranger."</p><p>I turned round. He had an
amused smile on his face.</p><p>"Need
something?" I said.</p><p>The man looked around
him. The forest seemed denser in the dark. "Where you goin� this time of
night?"</p><p>"Don't worry about
it."</p><p>He took another step
toward me. "Do me a favour?"</p><p>I took a deep breath. I
wasn't big on favours. "What?"</p><p>He grinned. "I got a
call of nature. I know, I know - worst time for it, eh?"</p><p>"Why not take a piss
in there?" I said, nodding at the shack.</p><p>"We got a bucket,
but I don't like using it. Something about the sound the spray makes on the
metal. It don�t seem right to do it indoors."</p><p>I tightened my fist. I
took a deep breath and tried to keep my irritation under control. "So what,
you need me to hold it for you or something?"</p><p>He laughed. "Nah.
Just keep a look out. Make sure one of them bitey bastards doesn't take a chunk
out of my arse."</p><p>I was done with this. I
didn't feel any threat from the man but there was no way was I letting my guard
down around him, and nor did I have the time to stand around while he took a
piss. The sky was pitch black and it wouldn't be long until the stalkers were
prowling. I had to have shelter before then, or I was done for.</p><p>I heard a spurt of liquid
hit a tree behind me. "It's getting late," said the man, as he
released his bladder. "And town�s an hour away. Say, I don't remember
seeing you there before."</p><p>"That's because I
don't live there."</p><p>"Really?" His
voice seemed incredulous at the thought that someone might not be from town,
that someone might spurn the safety of its walls. "At any rate, you're
gonna need to get yourself under a roof." The stream of urine stopped and
he zipped up his pants. He motioned behind him to the shack. "It's not the
Hilton, but you're welcome to stay for the night. We're seeing it out until
morning then heading back."</p><p>Part of me was already
walking over there and setting down my bag. I wanted to get in the shack, take
my boots off and sink to the floor, and I would have done anything to fill my
belly with beans and then sleep for a week. I looked at the man again. He
seemed genuine enough, but the bad ones always did. Everyone seemed honest, at
first.</p><p>�The only people you
could count on to show you their intentions were those who didn�t care to hide
their bad ones.</p><p>"How many are you in
there?"</p><p>"Me, Dan and Faizel.
My name�s Noah."</p><p>"I'll pass."</p><p>His voice changed and became
patronising. "I don't know if you've checked your situation lately, but
it's night-time. �Scuse me for being blunt, but if you're out here at night you
are screwed. I don't know you from Jack, but I don't want to hear you screaming
out here when I'm trying to sleep."</p><p>I needed to go inside. It
was crazy to stay out at night, I knew, and I wanted the shelter, food and
sleep so badly. I didn't want to spend another night shivering in the woods,
not daring to shut my eyes. But I couldn't. I knew that in there, in the same
room with three strangers, I would keep one eye open all night. There was no
way I would let myself sleep.</p><p>I turned again and walked
away. "Thanks for the offer."</p><p>My boots felt heavier
with every step. The man called out behind me. "You're going to get
yourself killed, you idiot."</p><p>Tell me something I don't
know, I thought.</p><p>***</p><p>I carried on walking. I
judged it to be around midnight, and being out in the open at this time was
akin to swimming in shark infested waters with a steak on your back. To my
right there was an oak tree that shot thirty feet into the air. It looked thick
and solid but there was emptiness in the trunk, some kind of dark hole. I got
closer and found that the bark was hollowed out. Whether it was through old age
or the work of some forest animal, I didn�t care, I was thankful for it. It
might not have been the Ritz, but it would do.</p><p>I lowered my head and climbed
into the hole, squeezing my body into the tight space. The inside of the tree
smelt like sodden earth and felt soggy on my jeans, and my back was bent so
much that it hurt. I wasn't looking at a comfortable night�s sleep, but then,
when was the last time I had one of those? When had I last shut my eyes for
more than an hour?</p><p>I couldn't go on like
this.</p><p>I thought about the shack
and felt a pang of regret. Why couldn't I have just gone in? Plenty of people
would have trusted the men, gone inside and got a good night�s rest.</p><p>I shook my head. Those
were the kind of people who died. Every time you trusted a person you had
another spin of the chamber, hoping this time it wasn�t your turn to take the
bullet.</p><p>From my hole in the tree
I had a limited view of the forest in front of me. If something suddenly
spotted me, I would be screwed; there would be no way to escape, no back exit.
It was still better than being out in the open, though. Out there an infected
could come out of nowhere and bite you, or a stalker could leap from a tree and
take a chunk out of your neck.</p><p>To take my mind off the
infected and the stalkers, I put my pack on my lap. I unzipped it and looked
and what I had with me. Somewhere at the bottom were some fireworks - useful
for distracting the infected - and a lighter. I rummaged round the pack and
took out the revolver that I had found a few months ago in the pocket of an
infected whose skull I�d smashed. The handle was scratched and the brown paint
had started to fleck away, and when I opened the chamber the smell of gunpowder
cut through the soggy aroma of the tree. I only had three bullets left but that
didn�t matter. I rarely fired the gun if I could help it; the sound of a gunshot
might as well have been a siren call for the infected.</p><p>I checked my food. Two
tins of bargain bin kidney beans in brine. As hungry as I was, the thought of
the slimy beans put my stomach in a knot. My only alternative was a sachet of
powdered chicken soup, but I needed to boil some water to cook it with. Right
now, lighting a fire would be suicidal.</p><p>I dug down and felt the
cold touch of metal on my hands. It was Clara�s gold bracelet. I had bought it
for our five year anniversary, back when things were good. Now it was a grim
reminder of what I had lost. I felt a sentimental wave start to wash over me,
so I put it back.</p><p>Tucked at the bottom of
my bag and wrapped in a waterproof plastic sheet was my prize possession, my
GPRS tracker. I looked out into the woods, and seeing that nobody was around, I
took it out. I pressed the ON button and within a second the screen came to
life, a blue light that illuminated the darkness. I covered the top of it with
my hand to stop the light being seen by anything that was lurking around me.</p><p>The GPRS loaded and the
route displayed. It showed my current location, and the route I needed to take
to get to the farm. Thank god that the satellites were still working, because
without them I would never find my way. The farm was tucked away in a remote
little spot in the countryside, so hidden away that it was impossible to just
stumble on it.</p><p>The farm was my dream, my
salvation. Once I got there, everything would be okay. I'd be alone, far away
from people, and I would be self-sufficient. And the GPRS was my only way of
getting there. I checked the mile section in the corner, and saw that I had 400
left to go. The thought of the journey ahead of me made my body feel heavy, but
nothing was going to stop me.</p><p>As I enjoyed the images
in my head of how good life would be once I reached the farm, my eyelids
started to fall.</p><p>Later, I don't know how
long, I jerked awake. I looked outside of my little tree hole. My breath
instantly caught in my chest and I felt a shiver run through me.</p><p>Across the woods, a
stone�s throw away, a stalker hugged the ground, its nose sniffing the earth
for my scent and its agile body slinking in my direction, hunger on its lips
and death in its eyes.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter 2</strong></p><p>I had nowhere to run.
Even if I had a head start on the stalker, with the way those things could move
it would be on me in seconds. I thought about grabbing my knife, but for all
the good it would do me against a stalker I might as well have just used it to
slit my own throat.</p><p>I reached for my revolver
and put it in the pocket of my windbreaker. I wasn't going to fire it; to kill
a stalker I'd need to get a head shot, and despite having three bullets I would
only get the chance to fire one. My aim was average at the best of times, and
right now my head was spinning so much it felt like I were on a boat.</p><p>Although my eyes stung I
didn't feel tired anymore, as though seeing the stalker had shot adrenaline
through my body. I felt wired; my pulse was racing and my legs were restless,
and part of me just wanted to stand up and bolt through the woods.</p><p>I needed to think. I
didn't have long before it caught my scent. Its head sniffed against the forest
floor, and it's body slunk across the earth like a snake. It was strange seeing
something that used to be a person moving in this twisted way, and watching it
made my skin clammy and put my stomach in a knot.</p><p>I looked up and saw the
night sky, black and endless. A few stars dotted the canvas, illuminating a
dark sea that threatened to drown me. I needed a diversion, something to take
the stalker�s attention away from me and give me just enough time to get the
hell away. But what could I do? What could I cause a distraction with?</p><p>Then I had an idea, and I
felt stupid for not thinking of it before. I still had the fireworks. What
better time than now to light up the sky a little, to give that stalker fucker
a show and send it off chasing an explosion? It would buy me the time I needed
to make a careful escape.</p><p>I reached into my bag and
pulled out the fireworks, but the cardboard they were made from was completely
soggy. Goddamn it, why now of all times? I had the worst luck in the world. As
I held them they fell apart in my hands, covering me with black gunpowder. My
head dropped. Now I really was in trouble. I thought back to the shack and the
men inside, and I felt like punching myself for my stupidity. Why had I not
gone inside? If I'd just trusted them, I wouldn't be in this mess.</p><p>What the hell was wrong
with me?</p><p>The stalker looked up.
There was a sense of purpose in its movements, and for a second it looked
straight at me. My blood froze. I held in my breath and tightened my body,
willing myself not to move an inch.</p><p>Maybe it wouldn't see me.
Maybe it was looking past me. I could still have a chance to get out of this.</p><p>But then it started to
move in my direction, and I knew. This was it for me.</p><p>I reached into my pocket
and took out the revolver. I flipped the safety and straightened my arm,
pointing the gun at the stalker ahead. My arm shook but I tensed my muscles and
bit down on the glob of bile that slid up my throat.</p><p>The stalker got closer.
It was moving in on my scent, testing the ground and making sure of its senses.
Any second now, it would pounce, but I wouldn't give it that chance.</p><p>This was it.</p><p>I took a breath and held
it in my chest to steady my aim, the way I had seen snipers do it in films
before they took a kill shot. The stalker moved back into its knees, crouching
and ready to pounce. I pulled the trigger.</p><p>The barrel of the gun exploded,
sending sparks shooting out of the chamber and filling the hollow tree with a
deafening bang. I felt a searing pain burn through my hand, and I dropped the
revolver in my lap. My hand was in agony, and it was so bad that for a second I
couldn't even look up to see if the stalker was dead.</p><p>I looked down and saw
that the firework powder on my palm had caught fire from the spark of the gun.
My skin was burning and all I could think about was the agony of it as my nerve
endings cried out. I shoved my hand as deeply as I could into the sodden earth
and though the dirt cooled it a little, my skin still felt like it was on fire.</p><p>Ahead of me the stalker
roared. I looked up and saw it crawling toward me in a jagged movement. There
was a hole in its left leg from where my bullet had hit. It was a good enough
wound to slow it, but not a lethal one. Bleed, you bastard, I thought. If you
want to eat, you�re going to have to fight for it.</p><p>I picked up the gun with
my good hand and tried to aim again, but my left hand hurt so much that I
couldn't focus. My ears rang from the explosion of the gun and threw me off
balance, making it impossible to know if I was even aiming straight. I took a
breath and fired, and the bullet disappeared into the trees far away from the
stalker.</p><p>Unperturbed by the shot,
the stalker moved closer. Did these things have no fear?</p><p>I pushed the pain of my
hand back and filled my lungs. One last chance.</p><p>�I fired again.</p><p>The bullet zipped away
into the night.</p><p>The stalker got closer
and closer. My whole body shook, and I had the sickening feeling that this was
it for me. Fifteen years a survivor and this was how it would end; packed up
tight in a hollowed-out tree stump with a stalker chewing through my
intestines. Whatever happened, I would give it a fight</p><p>The stalker was six feet
away now. It stuck its long wet tongue out of its mouth and trailed it along
its bottom lip. Spit pooled down its chin. This was the closest I had ever been
to one of them, and the reality of it sent sharp shivers through my spine. Up
close I could see the vague remnants of the person it had once been, but now it
was more monster than human.</p><p>I reached to my belt and
grabbed my knife, and I prepared for my last fight.</p><p>"Over here!" said
a deep voice.</p><p>To the right of me were
flames; orange and red and glorious. They got closer to me, and as they came
near the stalker shied away a little. It took a cautious step back and looked
at me and then the fire, deciding whether the proximity of an easy snack was
worth enduring the heat.</p><p>The flames were actually
three torches, and they were carried by three worried-looking men. I didn't
need to be told who they were; it was Noah and the others from the shack.
They�d come back for me, the idiots.</p><p>The adrenaline seeped out
of me, and I started to feel faint.</p><p>Noah looked over at me,
his face shining in the flames.</p><p>"He's alive."
he said.</p><p>I stretched out my arm
and pointed to the stalker. This simple act drained me, and I felt faint.</p><p>"It's wounded,"
I said.</p><p>I saw the men crowd the
stalker and beat it with hammers and bats. It fought back ferociously, sinking
its teeth into Noah�s shin bone and breaking it with a crack. He screamed and
dropped his torch into the wet earth, where it extinguished with a fizz.</p><p>Angered by the screams of
their friend, the other two men fought harder, raining down blows on the
monster with animal-like fury. Before long the stalker didn�t have any fight
left in it, and as I saw one of the men cave its head in with a hammer, my
vision turned black and I fell back, smashing my head on the tree behind me.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter 3</strong></p><p>When I woke up it was
daylight. I was in a bed in a strange room, the bed sheet drawn up to my chest
and tucked tightly into the sides of the mattress. My head banged and my body
felt weak. I wriggled myself into a sitting position in the bed, but when I put
my weight on my left hand a shock of pain ran through me. I pulled my hand out
and saw that it was covered in bandages, and I remembered the previous night
and how the gun powder had exploded on me when I fired the revolver. I winced.
To my right there was a window, and on the streets below I could see a few
people stood shooting the breeze. I knew that I was in Vasey, the only real
civilised place left in Lancashire. The question was, how did I get here?</p><p>It was probably the men
who had helped me fight the stalker, the ones who had offered me shelter. They
must have carried me here during the night after I blacked out. However I got
here, it didn't matter. All I knew was that I wasn't staying. I had avoided
Vasey all this time for a reason - the people. If I wanted to be around people,
I would have come here a lot sooner.</p><p>I put the weight of my
body onto my right hand and swung myself out of bed. An ache ran all the way up
from the bones in my toes to my skull. My lips felt dry and my left hand stung
like a bitch. I put my feet down on the floor. I wasn't sure I could even make
it to the door, let alone outside, but there was no way I was staying. I got to
my feet and stood shakily. How had I let myself get like this? I felt drained.
An image flashed in my head of the previous night, of the men beating the
stalker to death, its blood splashing out onto their clothes, of it clamping
its teeth around one of the men's shin bones and squeezing until it snapped.
The man screaming, and falling.</p><p>My stomach gurgled. I
felt bile rush up my throat, and I sank to my knees and heaved. Nothing came up
but air. I wheezed and wanted to die.</p><p>Across the room, the door
opened, and I lifted my head. A boy walked in with a grin on his face. His hair
was buzzed almost to the scalp so that the top of his head was dotted with
little black pin pricks that looked more like a five o'clock shadow than hair.
He was tall and skinny, and he had an awkward gait to his walk, as though he
weren't fully in control of his own body. When he saw me his eyes widened and
he looked at me in wonder.</p><p>"What are you doing
down there?"</p><p>He walked over to the side
of the bed and stuck his arms out toward me as though to help me up.</p><p>"I got it." I
waved his arms away.</p><p>"How's your
hand?"</p><p>I felt a stinging pain
run through my burnt palm. "I'll live."</p><p>"Did one of the
infected do it?" he asked. He looked nervous.</p><p>I put my right hand on
the ground and pushed down on it, using it to support my weight. My body felt
like lead, but I managed to get to my feet. When I stood up, I felt dizzy.
Looking up, I noticed that the walls of the room were stripped down to the stone,
as though someone were decorating.</p><p>�I looked at the boy. He
was about fifteen years old, sixteen at a push. He looked green to me, like
he'd never spent a day outside of the town in his life. Fifteen years into the
apocalypse, some kids were being born into this nightmare. They didn't have to
make the transition from the old, safe world to this new, dangerous one - this
was the only life they knew. This kid was one of the lucky ones though; he was
obviously born in town and had lived here all his life. The walls protected him
from what was outside, and he didn�t have to give much of a thought to
survival. I considered the question he had asked- "Did one of them do
it?" - and I couldn't keep the scorn out of my voice as I spat an answer.</p><p>"Kid, if one of them
did it, do you think I'd be here?"</p><p>He looked confused.
"What do you mean?"</p><p>"If someone got bit,
I don't imagine you'd let them back into town."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Jesus. Kid - "</p><p>He interrupted me.
"My name's Justin."</p><p>"I don't care."
My head was pounding and the corners of my eyes were blurry. I heaved myself
onto the bed and let my body sink into it.</p><p>Justin walked over to a
dresser on the far side of the room, opposite the window. He poured water from
a plastic bottle into a chipped white mug. He brought it to the side of the bed
and offered it to me, but I had no interest in taking a drink off him no matter
how much my cracked lips begged for it. I waved him away.</p><p>"Where are you
from?" asked Justin.</p><p>"Nowhere."</p><p>"Were you looking
for Vasey?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Then where were you
going?"</p><p>I felt blood rush to my
head, and my face was starting to get red. I felt like giving the kid a clout
behind the ears, anything to get him to stop asking me questions. "For
god's sake, give me some space."</p><p>Rather than pick up on my
cues, Justin grabbed a wooden-backed chair and dragged it to the side of the
bed. He sat in it and stared at me with curiosity, as though I were the new
animal in a zoo.</p><p>Behind him, the bedroom
door opened and an old man walked through.</p><p>His face was beaten and
wrinkled, like a crumpled leather purse. His hair was grey, wiry and ran down
to his shoulders, though on top it was noticeably thinning toward his crown. I
couldn't help but wonder why he didn't just stop pretending and shave it all
off, but I guess he was too stubborn for that. He gave a wide smile when he saw
me, but I didn't read anything remotely friendly behind it.</p><p>"You're a lucky
man," he said. He had a thick Lancastrian accent but his pitch was higher
than I expected.</p><p>I looked down at my
stinging, bandaged hand. My head throbbed and my body felt so brittle that I
couldn't even get out of bed without heaving. I didn't feel too lucky.</p><p>"Yeah, guess I
really won the lottery here."</p><p>The man motioned at
Justin to get up. He took his place in the chair beside the bed.</p><p>"Name's Moe."</p><p>"Great."</p><p>"Yours?"</p><p>I let the seconds drag
out and a silence took over the room. I wasn�t going to tell him a damn thing.
The only thing I wanted to do was get the hell out of here, because every
second I spent here was time wasted. Every minute I didn�t spend getting closer
to the farm meant someone else could find it and take it, and I couldn't let
that happen. I needed to leave, and to do that, I needed to feel better. I
looked over at Justin. The kid was perched awkwardly on the dresser.</p><p>"I'll take some of
that water, please," I said. If I was going to leave, I needed to get
hydrated.</p><p>Justin looked up at Moe,
and the old man nodded. I looked at them both to see if there were any facial
similarity but there didn't seem to be any, so they probably weren�t related.�
What was their connection? Justin brought the cup of water over to me and
offered it out. Before I sit up, Moe grabbed it from him and held it away from
me.</p><p>"What do they call
you?" he said.</p><p>It seemed he was going to
withhold the water unless I answered him. I took a deep breath and counted to
five in my head, trying to bite back on the annoyance rising in me. I looked at
the cup of water in his hand, and I felt my mouth try to salivate, except that
it didn't have the moisture to do it. My lips were dry and my tongue was rough
and fuzzy.</p><p>"Kyle," I
answered.</p><p>He offered the cup to me.
I took it, and sniffed at the water. It was a little musty, and there were
flecks of white powder at the bottom.</p><p>"What the hell is
this?"</p><p>"I crushed up a
paracetamol for you," said Justin.</p><p>�Paracetamol?� I said.
�Hasn�t that stuff all gone out of date yet?�</p><p>�Still works,� said Moe.</p><p>�Drink it,� said Justin, and
nodded at the glass. �You�ll feel better.�</p><p>I eyed him with
suspicion. The kid had a trustworthy face, almost plain in its honesty. Moe, on
the other hand, looked like a man you�d hide your cards from in a poker game.
It was obvious he was a boss of some sort to Justin, and the kid seemed so
naive that he'd follow any instruction.</p><p>A dagger of pain shot
through my temple, and I felt another dry heave begin to rise up from my
stomach. My body was crying out for the water. I looked up again at Justin's honest
face, and I reminded myself that the most conniving men are brilliant at making
themselves seem truthful.</p><p>�I put the water on the
nightstand beside my bed. As I set the cup down, a shard of pain stabbed my
skull, as though my body were admonishing me for refusing the drink.</p><p>"They said you were
a suspicious one." said Moe.</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"Faizel, one of our
scouts you met last night. He said that Noah offered you shelter, but you said
no."</p><p>"I don't like having
to sleep with one eye open."</p><p>Anger flashed through Moe's
face, and suddenly his old eyes were dark and set deep on my own.</p><p>"And I don't like
losing a good man because of a stranger's stupidity."</p><p>I bolted up into a
sitting position. The movement nauseated me, and I choked back on a heave that
rose from my stomach. Anger flashed through me and made my chest feel tight.
Who the hell was Moe to speak to me like that? I looked to Moe and Justin, and
didn't like my odds; I was down two to one, and I was practically an invalid
right now. If something was off about these two, and I needed to get out of
here, I doubted my body could even get me to the door. I was done with this
though. I didn�t like being in Vasey, and I had somewhere I needed to get.</p><p>The farm was waiting, and
every second that ticked by without me making at least some progress felt
wasted.</p><p>I choked back my anger
and tried to keep my voice calm. "If there was some stupidity last night,
it wasn't mine."</p><p>Moe snorted. "So
what do you call pissing on an offer of shelter in the middle of the night when
there are stalkers are prowling round? That sound wise to you?"</p><p>I had to admit that put
like that, it didn't sound too clever. I looked Moe up and down. He had to be
in his sixties, so he must have been around before the fall. He had to have
seen how the world used to be, and how it was now, how much it had changed and
definitely not for the better. God knows how long he'd lived in Vasey, tucked
up behind the town�s walls, but surely he knew the laws of the wilds. You
didn't trust anybody, ever. Any man could turn on you and any man could do you
harm. Giving your trust to a man wasn't free - it just might cost you your
life.</p><p>Moe crossed his legs.
"Noah was a good man, and so are Dan and Faizel. They meant you no
harm."</p><p>"Good is an
objective word. You have to know the qualities of something to judge it as good
- and I didn't know shit about them."</p><p>Perched on the end of the
dresser, I saw Justin's head snap in my direction. I realised I was raising my
voice and my tone was getting mean. This always happened whenever I spent too
much time around people.</p><p>Moe stood up. He was an
old man, and on equal terms I could kick his ass. But now, with me in my
weakened state and him towering over me, the odds were even. "I've spoken
to Faizel. He says they saw where you decided to settle for the night, some
grubby little hole in a tree. Probably you were sharing it with a squirrel or
something, I don't know. At any rate, they kept an eye on you. They saw a
stalker coming toward you looking for a taste, and they rushed in and saved
your life. What do you have to say about that?"</p><p>I clenched my left hand
and felt it burn. "It was the smell of your man's piss that brought the
stalker. There were three of them partying in that shack, and three's a crowd.
You know what crowds of people tend to attract? Stalkers, and infected. If
you�re going to blame anyone, then blame your guys for being too scared to
travel alone."</p><p>"A man can't live
alone," said Moe.</p><p>"I do pretty
well."</p><p>He looked at me and
grinned, as though he had made his point. "Yeah, you sure are living the
good life."</p><p>I looked at my bandaged
hand and my dirty jeans. I felt fatigued beyond belief, and my head was clamped
in a vice. I'd been travelling for weeks and I was still four hundred miles
away from where I needed to be, and I only had provisions to last me a day. The
only things I had were my dead wife�s bracelet - useless unless I came across
an infected with a taste for fancy gold -, a revolver with no bullets, some
soggy fireworks and a GPRS that was my only link to my salvation. Maybe Moe had
a point. I wasn't living, I was getting by. At least in town they had supplies,
walls and something of a life going for them.</p><p>But then again, they also
had to live with each other, and that wasn�t a good thing. Every day you spent
in the company of another person was a day you trusted your life to them,
trusted them not to make some stupid decision that would get you killed.</p><p>It was time for me to go.
I sat up and tried to spin my legs round to the side of the bed. It took all
the effort I had and the strain made me sweat. Justin stood away from the
dresser and moved to help me, but I gave him a glare that stopped him cold. I
finally got my feet on the ground, though I didn't want to risk standing up
yet.</p><p>"Where's my
things?"</p><p>Moe nodded to Justin. The
kid walked to the other side of the room and bent down to the side of a book
case. He picked up my bag and put it on the edge of the bed.</p><p>"Not sticking
around?" said Moe.</p><p>"Got somewhere I
need to be."</p><p>"Where?" asked
Justin, his eyes alive with curiosity. Any mention of anything outside town
seemed to excite him.</p><p>"Unless you think
you got a reason to know, I�m not saying."</p><p>Moe stood up and reached
into his pocket. As well as a stray piece of fluff, he pulled out my GPRS. I got
to my feet. What was he doing with it? I felt my blood rush to my head and I
saw spots, but I fought through the feeling and stayed upright. The sight of
him holding my GPRS, my only link to the farm, made me want to knock him out
cold.</p><p>That wouldn't be the
right thing to do. I couldn't show him what it meant to me, because that would
make it all the more valuable in his eyes. I had to play this smart.</p><p>"You went through my
stuff?" I said.</p><p>He nodded. "Think
healthcare is free? This ain't the NHS."</p><p>"No. They had a
better bedside manner."</p><p>Moe smirked. "I was
an old and set in my ways long before things turned to shit, so I'm not going
to pretend to know what this is." He tossed the GPRS on the bed. I cradled
it in my hand and inspected it, but thankfully there didn't seem to be any
damage. I let out a long breath. I placed the GPRS carefully in my bag on the
end of the bed.</p><p>"You can take your
gizmo, your game or whatever it is. But I need paying."</p><p>I didn't have time for
this. I had to leave right away. Outside the window the sky was white and the
sun was shining. It was actually a beautiful day. It was the kind where, long
before the fall, Clara and I would load up the car with sandwiches and go for a
picnic. Looking at it, you could almost imagine there was nothing wrong with
the world. It wasn't true, obviously. The infected didn't care whether the sun
was shining or it was pissing with rain. They'd tear your flesh apart whatever
the weather.</p><p>I looked back at Moe. I
wanted done with this. "Fine," I sighed, "what do you
want?"</p><p>He nodded down at my bag.
"That's a nice revolver."</p><p>I shook my head. "No
chance."</p><p>"It's not much good
to you without bullets, unless you think waving it at one of the monsters will
stop it."</p><p>"I'll take my
chances on finding more bullets. I�d rather have the gun and need the bullets,
than find the bullets and need the gun. "</p><p>He walked to my bag and
stuck his hand in it. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. It felt like he was
invading my space. That pack had been my only means of living for months now,
and I had carried food, ammo, clothes, and everything else I needed to stay
alive in it. Seeing someone else going through it made me clench my fists.</p><p>"You want to take
your fucking hand out of there?" I said. Something was bubbling up inside
me, and this time it wasn't dry heaves. I filled my lungs and tried to bury the
feeling, knowing that if things kicked off here I would likely have a whole
town to contend with.</p><p>"I'd much rather
take this," said Moe, and he pulled his hand out of the bag. In his curled
fist he held Clara's gold bracelet.</p><p>I took a step toward him.
My tiredness was gone, replaced for the moment by the energy only fury can give
you. Moe took a step back, but I noticed his right fist tightening into a ball
at his side. Near the dresser, Justin twitched. He looked from me to Moe, as if
weighing up what action to take.</p><p>The old man I might have
been able to deal with, but Justin was different. Sure, he was dripping wet behind
the ears and had probably never stepped foot outside town in his life, but he
hadn�t spent the previous night fighting a stalker. I had survival instincts
and experience, but right now he had the physical edge. I didn't take another
step forward.</p><p>"You're not having
that."</p><p>"What good is it to
you?" he said, letting the gold slink through his cigarette-stained
fingers.</p><p>"It's
personal."</p><p>Moe looked to the
bracelet, and then to me. A wide grin spread on his face, and his grey
whiskered cheeks tightened. "I didn't have you pegged as the sentimental
sort. Mr Lone Wolf."</p><p>In another second I was
going to punch that smile off his face, no matter what the consequences. This
was why I stayed away from people; you couldn�t trust their intentions, and I
couldn�t trust myself not to beat the hell out of them.</p><p>"I suggest you take
your fucking fingers off that bracelet."</p><p>He threw it on the bed.
"Sure. But it's either the bracelet or the gun. I'm a generous man - I'll
let you pick."</p><p>I glanced sideways at
Justin. The kid looked jumpy.</p><p>"Suppose I just beat
the crap out of both of you." I said.</p><p>Moe laughed. "Even
if a fine physical specimen as yourself were able to do that in your current
state, do you suppose you'd get a foot out of Vasey without getting a bullet in
your back?"</p><p>He was right, I knew.
There was no way I was getting out of here by force. I had two choices. I
either gave him the gold bracelet, my last memento of Clara, or I gave him the
revolver. What a choice. The bracelet was the only thing of hers that I had,
but the gun that could easily be the difference between living or dying.</p><p>The way I saw it,
memories wouldn't do me much good in the grave, and I thought Clara would
respect that. She wouldn't want me to lessen my survival chances just to keep
hold of a piece of jewellery.</p><p>"Take the
gold," I said.</p><p>"A pragmatic choice,
and I can�t say it doesn�t fit you.� He stood up, rubbed the bracelet on his
jumper and then stuffed it in his pocket. �There's a pretty girl in town. She�s
got an ass you could eat your dinner off, but she costs a little too much.
Maybe this will buy me a few hours with her." said Moe.</p><p>His words hit me in the
gut. The last memory of my dead wife, and I�d cheapened it. I�d taken the slim
chance of survival in this world over keeping the memory of her around, and now
it was going to be used as currency to pay a whore.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
4</strong></p><p>Moe was a piece
of crap, and meeting him confirmed what I had known about Vasey all along. The
idea of sticking around had some comfort to it - walls, warmth, and protection
- but it came at a price I had no interesting in paying. If being around people
was the cost of security, I'd rather take my chances outside. It just wasn't
worth it. At least alone I could control what I did, and any mistakes I made
would be my own. If you spent time without someone else, you were at the mercy
of whatever dumb decision they made.</p><p>� I walked down the pothole-ridden road
that led out of town. I looked to the side of me and saw a bunch of shops lining
the high street, though none of them were used as businesses these days. What was
once a bakery was packed with blue gas canisters, and a yellow-walled hair
boutique with a "Village Supercuts" sign had the skins of various
animals hanging up on the walls. It was a strange choice, really, because
further down the road was a butcher shop, and surely that would have made a
better choice to store animal hides. From another doorway a man watched me
walk. He was topless and the curve of his stomach poked out above his jeans,
the beginnings of a beer-belly that he had no business growing in this new
world where food was rare and beer even rarer. He rested his arms on the
doorframe and let a cigarette hang from the corner of his mouth. He never took
his eyes off me as I walked past him and toward the gate that guarded the town
exit.</p><p>The gate was
twenty-feet high, black and made of steel. On either side were stone turrets,
and in each turret stood a guard with a gun. Vasey, like many places in the
North of England, was once home to a Norman stronghold, and the black gate was
a remnant of its ancient defence. Now though, instead of protecting the
townspeople against invading armies hungry for territory, it was protecting
them against the living dead who were hungry for brains.</p><p>I walked up to
the gates. The guard in the left turret twitched at every step I took, and when
I stood in front of the bars he raised his gun at me. I looked up and saw that
it was an air rifle. It wasn't exactly lethal, but I didn�t want to take a shot
in the head from it. Still, there was no way I was going to let them keep me
here. I took hold of two of the steel bars, which felt cold against my skin,
and I shook them. They didn�t budge.</p><p>"Need you
to step away from there," said the voice above me.</p><p>I looked for
some sort of latch or bolt so I could get the gate open, but there didn't seem
to be anything. On the side, where the gate joined the turret, I saw a chain
which fed into a pulley system. That was why it wouldn't open, then. Although
the gate was a relic from centuries past, at some point it had been mechanised,
and now the gate would only open if someone operated it. I guessed the controls
were in the turret.</p><p>Above me, the
guard raised his rifle a little higher. "I won't ask again, back away from
the bloody gate."</p><p>I needed a
little diplomacy here. I had to persuade him to open the gate for me, and
getting angry would earn me nothing but a pellet in my skull. I tried to
breathe in and control my pulse, but the feeling of something being outside
control made me feel trapped. I wanted to climb up the gate, jump in the turret
and knock the guard out, but I wouldn�t get more than halfway up before I was
peppered with shots from the other one.</p><p>I looked back
toward the street. The man in the doorframe was still staring at me. He spat
his cigarette onto the floor. Above me, both guards had their air rifles
trained on my head. I felt my chest begin to tighten, and my palms were getting
clammy. The gate loomed over me, unmovable, and I felt the hairs on my arms
raise. Who the hell did they think they were to trap me here, to stop me from
leaving?</p><p>Nobody did that
to me - nobody. I was going to show them what happened when you did.</p><p>I took my bag
off my shoulder and reached inside it. I knew what I was doing was stupid, but
I couldn't stop myself. I felt around for my revolver and, with the handle in
my grasp, I was ready to pull it out. I didn't have any bullets, but I wanted
to see how cocky the guard was when I waved a real gun in his face instead of
an air rifle. I looked up at him and slowly reached my hand out of my bag,
knowing that as soon as they saw the gun they would shoot me.</p><p>Just as the
silver of the chamber glinted in the sun, I heard a voice call out behind me.</p><p>"Kyle,
wait."</p><p>I turned round.
Justin was running toward me in a strange shuffle. He wore a thick coat on that
was too long for him at the sleeves, and his body was unbalanced by a rucksack
on his shoulder.</p><p>I looked up at
the guard. "Get this open, now."</p><p>The guard acted
like he hadn't heard me. Justin got closer, and he had a nervous grin on his
face.</p><p>"Where are
you going?" He asked.</p><p>"I�m
leaving."</p><p>"But
where?"</p><p>"You don't
need to know."</p><p>He stood in
front of me and dropped his bag to the ground, and there was the clang of
something metal. There was a pause, and Justin seemed to be thinking of what to
say to me. What could he possibly want?</p><p>"Take me
with you," he said.</p><p>So that was it.
That's what the coat and bag were for. I wondered what was in it the bag;
probably provisions, but for all I knew it could be his toys or something. The
kid had never set foot out of the town in his life, so I dreaded to think what
he'd packed as necessities for his "trip".</p><p>I stopped just
short of sneering at him. "The class trip�s not until next week."</p><p>Justin looked
at me, puzzled. I realised that he had been born straight into this new world
that even after fifteen years hadn�t stabilised itself enough to establish a
�normal� way of life for people.� Justin didn't have a clue what things had
been like before. He didn't know what a class trip was, because he'd never been
in school. I realised how alien the experience of the world was for kids like
him, those who were born into it rather than adapting to it. He couldn't help
how he was.</p><p>This time I
spoke in a kinder tone. "You can't come with me." I nodded at what
was beyond the gate. �There are no walls out there, Justin. There�s nothing
separating you from them, and one wrong step <emphasis>will </emphasis>get you killed.�</p><p>He shook his
head. "I've been out before. Not so far, just round town, but far enough.
I know how to avoid them."</p><p>"You ever
been out at night?" I asked.</p><p>He looked to
the ground. "No."</p><p>"Then you
don't know what's out there. Those pathetic bastards are nothing compared to
what comes after it gets dark."</p><p>"I know
about the night things."</p><p>I let out a
sigh. I looked up and saw that above me the guard was listening to our
conversation with interest. I wondered if he had ever been out at night, or
whether anyone in this town had ever spent a night in the dark hoping a stalker
didn�t catch their scent. Then I remembered Noah and the others in the shack,
about how they'd risked their lives to help me with the stalker.</p><p>I took a step
toward Justin. "The things out there will tear you apart."</p><p>His eyes were
wide. "I can handle it. Or you can show me."</p><p>"I'm not a
babysitter."</p><p>"And I�m
not a baby. I'll pull my weight. I've got supplies," he said, and gave the
little bag in front of him a kick.</p><p>The bag was
packed tight, and I could see the outlines of tin cans busting at the fabric.
The stuff would have been a godsend for me, considering I only had enough on me
to last a couple of days at a stretch. But the price was having a tagalong, a
kid who was so green that he'd blend into the grass, someone who would
undoubtedly make the wrong move somewhere down the line and get us both killed.</p><p>I could see
that he was earnest in wanting to join me, and his intentions were good, but it
wasn�t a chance I was willing to take. I shook my head softly. "Why do you
even want to come?"</p><p>He leaned in a
little closer. His voice was quieter. "This town, there's nothing to it.
No future. The people here are drinking themselves stupid, and they're not
thinking about what�s coming. We should be doing something; farming, expanding,
I don't know what. But they're sinking into a rut and they're smiling about
it."</p><p>The kid was
making a little sense in this point. "It�s not much better out
there," I said, and nodded my head back toward the gate.</p><p>He looked at me
in a strange way, almost knowingly. "I bet you got a plan."</p><p>He was right,
though there was not a chance I was telling him what my plan was.</p><p>"You're
not coming - end of discussion."</p><p>His shoulders
sagged, but he didn't say anything else. Maybe the message had finally gotten
through to him.</p><p>"Look,
kid, stay behind your walls. It's safe here. It might not be much of a life,
but at least you got one. The second you step outside these walls, it's
forfeit."</p><p>He said
nothing, just stood there and sulked.</p><p>I gave his bag
a tap. "Take these back to wherever you took them from, people will need
them. And look, can you tell this wanker to open the gate?"</p><p>Justin looked
up and the man in the turret. "Moe says let him go," he said.</p><p>The guard
pressed a button. The chain and pulley on the gate creaked into motion, and
soon the black bars swung open. I stepped through them, out of the safety of
the town and back into the wastes. Behind me, I could feel Justin's eyes on my
back following me every step of the way.</p><p>������������������������������������������������������� ***</p><p>I walked out of
town and into the woods. The temperature was warm and the leaves on the trees
were still. Although the sky was sunny, a grey cloud was gathering to break it.
I could smell the earthy aroma of the pine trees, and for some reason it made
me feel hungry. How long had it been since I'd eaten?</p><p>There were a
few lone infected walking lazily through the trees, but there was nothing to
worry about unless I planned on making a racket. My most pressing need was to
find shelter before night came. There I could get some food in my belly and
fire up the GPRS, because I needed to get my bearings. The last two days had knocked
me off course, and I didn't have a clue which direction I should be heading in.
I could have turned it on there and then, but I didn't trust doing it out in
the open. There were too many places for bodies to lurk and eyes to see.</p><p>I walked for
forty-five minutes and I found the shack that Noah and his friends had stayed
in. I didn�t know whether I should use it; for all I knew, it was a regular
spot for the Vasey scouts, and some of them could easily turn up while I slept.
The last thing I needed right now was to run into anyone from Vasey.</p><p>Then again, I
doubted they'd be making any runs anytime soon after what happened to Noah, and
besides, the sky was starting to turn a little too dusky for my liking and I
didn�t want to get caught in the open. I didn�t have a choice.</p><p>I got inside
the shack. It was just one room, and it was empty. At some point it had
probably been used as a storage shed for park rangers, but now it was just four
walls and wooden floor boards. There was a faded poster imploring the use of
walky-talkies on patrols on one wall, and from another a sink stuck out from
the plaster, though the water had long since been cut off.� I dropped my bag
and sank to the floor, resting my back against the wall that was furthest away
from the door. As soon as I touched the floorboards, I felt my energy seep out
of me.</p><p>In the corner
of the room I found a small grill camping stove with a rubber tube that
connected it to a gas canister, as well as two bottles of water that I deemed
drinkable through their lack of any offensive odour. I twisted the knob of the
camping stove to feed it gas, and I pressed in the ignition to create a spark
that sent blue flames shooting underneath the grill. Despite it being evidence
that the Vasey scouts used this shack on their trips, it was a fantastically
lucky find. If I'd had a calendar with me, I would have checked to see if it
was my birthday.</p><p>Five minutes later
I had a chicken soup sachet cooking in the pot. The smell was salty and about
as far away from chicken as you could get, but the aroma of warm food was
enough to make my mouth water. I could almost hear my stomach thanking me in
anticipation.</p><p>While the soup
simmered I reached into my bag and took out my GPRS. I turned it round in my
hand looking for nicks or scratches, and once I was satisfied there were none I
rotated the screen toward me. It was time to see just how much further I had
left to go. I thought of the detour of the past two days, and I clenched my
jaw. I knew I must have at least four hundred miles left, and I could cover
about twenty five a day if I got my arse in gear. This had been was two whole
days wasted, fifty miles not walked.</p><p>I pressed in
the rubber ON button and waited. It usually took a moment and then the screen
turned blue, but now it was completely blank. I left it a few more seconds, but
the tight feeling in my chest made it hard to be patient.</p><p>I pressed it
again. And again. This time I pressed the button in deeper, held it in longer.
The screen stayed black.</p><p>I ran my
fingers through my hair. If the GPRS was broken, I was absolutely screwed. The
farm was so far away that I would never get there without directions, and though
I'd been told where it was, I had never been there myself. My only link was the
GPRS, into which years ago Clara had programmed the coordinates ready for a
trip that we never got to make.</p><p>The idea of the
farm and carving out a life there was a dream, really, because there was no
telling what kind of state it was going to be in. But I had to make it. I owed
it to Clara, because I'd promised I'd get us there once. I promised her that no
matter how run-down it had gotten, we would put the work in and make it our
own; that we�d make a safe home in a world where death stared in from all
sides.</p><p>And now the
screen was black. I twisted the unit in my hands again looking for signs of
damage. In my haste I dropped it to the floor. I snatched it up again, held my breath,
and pressed the button.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>I stood up. I
put my hands behind my head and paced the room. It was broken, that much I was
sure of, and the chances of getting the parts to fix it, even if I had the
know-how, were slim.</p><p>I couldn't
breathe, but I couldn't stay still. Everything was ruined.</p><p>The door of the
shack burst open. I snapped my head to the doorway and felt every nerve in my
body fire. Within a second I tensed my muscles ready to snap on anything that
moved toward me.</p><p>A thin figure
appeared in the doorway and stepped out of the night. It was Justin. He looked
at me, and then looked at the GPRS on the floor.</p><p>"Damn,
that's too bad," he said, his voice hollow, his lips curled into a smile.</p><p>That was when I
knew it was him.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
5</strong></p><p>Before I could
even recognise my actions I had stomped across the room. I towered over Justin,
my nostrils flaring as I took big breaths. I knew that he had done something
with the GPRS but I just didn�t know what, and I knew it was going to take
every ounce of my self-control not to beat it out of him.</p><p>�I wasn�t a
violent man, and he was just a kid, but if he had broken the GPRS then I was
screwed. Stupidly, I didn't know the way to the farm by heart; I relied on the
machine to tell me. I�d once tried to learn the way so that I�d have a back-up
in case the worst happened, but after two days of straining I had to give it
up. I guess my brain just doesn�t work that way. It�s not like I could just ask
someone where it was either; of the two people in the post-infected world who
knew the farm, one of them was dead and I never wanted to see the other again.</p><p>I poked a
finger into Justin's chest. His body was so soft that my finger seemed to sink
in, and he took a faltering step back toward the wall. He looked strangely
calm.</p><p>"What the
fuck have you done?" I said with a tight voice.</p><p>Despite how I
loomed over him, Justin didn't shrink away. This was a far cry from the kid I
had seen in town, the one with the awkward gait who couldn't even balance his
own shoulders. He cleared his throat. "Does it really matter, now, huh?
It�s done either way."</p><p>I turned away
from him. I could feel my face getting red. I walked across the room in three
strides, picked up the GPRS and then walked back. In front of Justin, I pressed
in the 'on' button, but the screen stayed dead. Justin watched me with a bored
expression. I shook the GPRS in his face.</p><p>"Tell me
what you did. Show me how to fix it."</p><p>He took the
GPRS out of my hands, flipped it over and slid a finger along it. A plastic
latch started to open.</p><p>"This is
the battery compartment. See how it's empty?"</p><p>If I weren�t so
furious, I would have felt stupid for not checking that. "So you took
it."</p><p>Justin nodded.
"Not only that," he said with pride, as though I was supposed to be
happy with what he had done, "I broke it so you can't put a fresh one in.�</p><p>I could feel my
face start to burn, and I clenched my teeth. As if picking up on my cues,
Justin carried on explaining himself.� �Before you go crazy, hear me I out. I
did it to <emphasis>help</emphasis> you. I took the battery, so that way, if someone were to
find it they'd have no idea where you're going."</p><p>The blood was
pounding in my ears so loud I almost couldn't hear what he was saying. I might
as well have turned the cooking stove off, because right now my face felt red
enough to start a fire. I tightened my fist and felt my skin wrap around my
knuckles. I looked at Justin and the placid smile on his lips, and suddenly I
wasn't seeing a kid anymore, I was seeing a face that I wanted to smash. How
dare he do this? Did he even realise just what he had done? Without the GPRS
route everything was ruined, because I had no idea where I was supposed to go.
Without that, without something to aim for, I was lost.</p><p>I felt the vein
in my temple twitch. "Are you actually trying to get me to kill you? Do
you have a death wish? Because there are easier ways, I promise."</p><p>He dropped the
GPRS to the ground. My stomach jumped at the thudding sound it made on the
wooden floor. Justin looked up at me. "I gave you a chance to say
yes."</p><p>"You're
trying my patience."</p><p>"I asked
you nicely to take me with you. I even brought supplies, but you're so
stubborn. You're like Moe - you don't listen to anyone but yourself."</p><p>I could almost
have laughed if it didn�t feel like my throat was tightening up. "And you
think I'm going to take you with me now? I�d rather kill you," I choked
out.</p><p>My shoulders
shook and there was a tension in my legs, a restlessness that made me want to
pace around the room. I could hear the chicken soup bubbling over in the corner
and knew it was going to start spitting out onto the floor soon, but I couldn't
concentrate on anything but the smug boy in front of me. My physical advantage
was so big as to make the idea of a fight laughable, but all I could think
about was punching him in the face.</p><p>�For a
whole year I had travelled alone toward the farm, and in all that time I had
stayed away from people. Well, look how right I was. The second I came into
contact with someone, he had purposefully messed with my plans.</p><p>My head
throbbed and it was getting harder to think. All I could feel was the rush of
anger, the hot feeling as my blood flooded to my head.� I raised my hand,
extended it toward Justin and wrapped it around his throat.</p><p>I pushed him
back, and his head hit the wall with a thud. I squeezed my hand against his
windpipe and I felt the jagged contours of his neck bones as they met his
Adam's apple. Justin let out a choking sound, but he didn't struggle against
me. His eyes watched me in an almost interested way, as though he were curious
as to what was going to happen. I squeezed his neck tighter. It felt so
fragile, as if I could completely snap it if I applied more pressure.</p><p>"I'm
giving you once chance here," I said, "If you don't give me the battery
and fix it, I won't just kill you; I'll squeeze until you pass out, and when
you wake up you'll be in the middle of the forest, alone and far from here, and
I'll make sure the infected can smell you. It won't be a quick death. You'll
scream so loud that you'll wake Moe from his sleep."</p><p>He stared at me
with his wide bug eyes. He blinked once but said nothing, and this made my
temple throb even harder. I tightened my hand a little and felt the sinews of
his neck move like gristle. It would be so easy now just to squeeze a little
more and snap his neck. My breath caught in my chest, and I could feel my heart
pounding.</p><p>As I squeezed
his neck, I felt consciousness came back to me, and my head started to clear. I
looked at my hand and realised what I was doing. The image disgusted me, the
idea that I�d fallen this far. I wasn't this sort of man. I might be many
things, but child killer wasn�t one of them.</p><p>I loosened my
grip. Justin's body sagged a little, and he took in a deep breath. From the
raspy sounds he made I could tell he was struggling to fill his lungs, and I
could see red marks from where my fingers had been wrapped around his neck. He
looked at me calmly, which made my anger rise again. I gave him a hard shove
into the wall then walked away from him, scared of what I would do next.</p><p>"Dammnit!
When a man is strangling you, you better show some fear," I said to him.
"Because next time it won't be someone like me, and your stupid stare will
make them go all the way."</p><p>I was sat on
the floor with my back against the wall. Justin walked over to the end of the
shack. He looked at the chicken soup bubbling in the cooking pot.</p><p>"It's
boiling dry."</p><p>"Leave
it."</p><p>He turned off
the stove, wrapped the sleeves of his jacket around his hands and picked up the
pot. As he moved it onto the floor the smell of the chicken wafted over to me,
and the way my mouth salivated reminded me of how long it had been since I had
eaten.</p><p>Justin walked
over and sat in front of me, cross legged. His eyes stared straight at mine.
"I know I've not seen much of the world, and I know in some ways I'd hold
you back, but I've got skills. Sure, I'd need you to look out for me with the
infected for a little, but I'd get used to them. And there's other stuff I can
do to help you."</p><p>His voice
sounded as young as he actually was, but the <emphasis>way</emphasis> he spoke was so much older.
He was obviously intelligent, a trait I could never really say I had. I was
more of the practical type, a reactionary kind of guy. I could fight fires, but
I sure as hell couldn�t figure out a way to stop them from happening.</p><p>I looked down
at the ground, because I couldn't look at Justin�s face anymore. The GPRS was
broken, and on my last count I was four hundred miles away from where I needed
to be. If I was closer � maybe ten miles away - I could have gotten lucky and
found it myself. But four hundred miles was impossible. There was someone else
who knew where the farm was, but going to see him wasn't an option.</p><p>"I can
tell you're a little sceptical," he continued, "But I learnt lots of
stuff growing up; things you couldn't learn out here. For example, I can
remember every Prime Minister and the term he served going back to 1721.�</p><p>I could feel
him poking at my patience. �Take a look outside. I can�t think of a more
useless skill to have these days than knowing who ran the country in 1968.�</p><p>Justin�s eyes
darted to the corner of his eye sockets for a split second. �Harold Wilson. But
that�s not the point. I�ve got a memory palace.�</p><p>Maybe he couldn�t
sense how brittle my will power was and how bad it would be for him if it
broke, because he took my silence as a sign that he should explain himself. He
looked me in the eyes, gave me a beaming grin, and then spoke. �What I�m saying
is, I�ve got an amazing memory.�</p><p>"Then
maybe you better remember how close I was to snapping your neck."</p><p>"I do. And
there's all sort of other things I can store up here.� He tapped his temple.
�Really interesting things. When you were unconscious in Vasey, for example, I
memorised the route stored on your GPRS tracker."</p><p>I lifted my
head. "What?"</p><p>"Your
route - I memorised it, every single step."</p><p>"Are you
screwing with me?"</p><p>Justin smiled,
and I could see one of his teeth was missing on the bottom row. Too bad there
were no dentists around these days. "Nope. I can tell you every step you
need to take to get to wherever it is you're going." He cleared his
throat. "But just where it is it we�re going to end up, exactly?"</p><p>"You
should know, apparently," I said, ignoring his use of �we� for now.</p><p>"I know
the route, but I don't have a clue what's waiting there. The end point you set means
nothing to me."</p><p>It was clear
what he wanted. The GPRS unit was broken, and the kid had memorised the route.
He was my only lifeline to get where I needed to be, and he knew it. I only had
two options - give in to him and let him come with me, or give up on the farm.</p><p>Was he worth
the risk? The boy was as naive as it got when it came to surviving, and not
only would I have to look out for him, but any wrong move he made would put me
in danger as well. At some point, too, I was sure that I was going have to dig
a grave for him, because nobody lasted long in the wilds. And I had already
done too much digging.</p><p>I thought about
the farm and my promise to Clara. I thought about having to see yet another
person die, and then having to bury him.</p><p>When the time
came, I would do it. Until then, I didn't have much of a choice.</p><p>I stared at him
intensely and kept my tone firm. "You don't move unless I tell you to. You
don't do anything unless I give you permission.� You don't use this genius
brain of yours to decide anything for yourself, and you definitely don't speak
unless it's an answer to a question. Got it?"</p><p>Justin nodded
and gave a faint smile.</p><p>"And the
second we get to the end of the route, you're gone."</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
6</strong></p><p>Justin�s feet
thudded on the forest floor and smashed every twig and leaf in their path. With
each crunch and snap I looked around me to make sure we hadn't drawn the
unwanted attention of an infected.</p><p>"Do you
have weights in your boots?"</p><p>Justin looked
at me. His face was looking wearier, a little less cocky and there was two days
of stubble sprayed on his cheeks, though most of the hair was light and the
growth was sparse. "What do you mean?"</p><p>I put a hand on
his shoulder and forced him to move slower. "Walk a little quieter. It's like
you're trying to invite them over for a chat."</p><p>We had covered
thirty-five miles in the last two days. The first day after Justin had joined
me we only walked fourteen, because despite getting something to eat, I still
felt zapped. I also found that travelling with someone else held you back in
other ways. The kid couldn't match my pace, and though he never asked me to
stop or take a break, there were times when his breathing got heavy and I could
tell his steps were tough for him to take. The second day was better, and we
managed twenty-one miles, but this was because we got out of the woods and managed
a full day's walk over flat terrain.</p><p>We moved over
the English countryside, and under different circumstances I might have said it
was beautiful; it was green, hilly and clear for miles. You didn�t have to
worry about an infected jumping out at you because you could see everything
around you in all directions, and that meant you could afford to walk a little
quicker. For two days our view had been nothing but swaying fields with grass
high enough to reach our ankles. Now though, we had hit woodland again.</p><p>"How thick
is this patch?" I asked him.</p><p>His eyes looked
up and to the side, as though he were searching his brain for data. "I
don�t know. The GPRS didn�t have a route through the trees. We should be on the
road somewhere over there,� he said, and pointed east of us.</p><p>I looked up.
Through the slots of the tress I could see the sky, and it looked grey. Darkness
was starting to creep in, and soon the whole woodland would be black. I looked
as far through the trees as I could but there didn't seem to be any shelter.
There wasn�t going to be any scout shack like back in Vasey, because there were
no populated areas in this neck of the woods. This made me sweat. I didn't want
to be out in the open again when the stalkers came.</p><p>"How far�s
the nearest town?" I asked.</p><p>He shrugged his
shoulders. "I dunno."</p><p>"I forget
that you're not Google."</p><p>"Eh?"</p><p>I shook my
head. "Never mind."</p><p>"Are we
stopping?" asked Justin.</p><p>I dropped my
rucksack to the ground. It was about five times heavier than it had been two
days ago, and though this meant extra weight to carry, I was glad of it. Justin
had brought enough supplies with him to get us a hell of a lot closer to the
farm, and the first thing I'd done when I agreed to let him join me was to
transfer most of them to my own bag. The kid thought it was because I wanted to
help him carry the load, but really it was because if he screwed up and got
himself killed, I didn't want to be left starving.</p><p>I took a look
round us and, seeing nothing, lowered myself to the forest floor. The mud was a
little damp from a light shower in the morning, but it had been a long time
since I had cared about something like that. Justin sat down, felt the wetness
of the dirt and instead put his bag underneath him.</p><p>"Think
we're going to have to hold up here for the night. Don't know exactly where we
are, but I got an inkling there's a village a few days away."</p><p>Justin blinked.
"You don't trust me, but you�ll trust an inkling?"</p><p>"An
inkling never got me killed."</p><p>Truth was I had
been here once, many years ago, so I had a dim recollection of the area. Back
then though, I had been with Clara, and I had been too focused on how beautiful
my new wife was to take in the scenery.</p><p>"Won't
'they' come out? The things?"</p><p>"Stalkers."
I said.</p><p>"That's
what they're called?"</p><p>I nodded.
"That'd be the dictionary term, if someone out there was still printing
them. Truth is I don't know if they�ll come out here. But I think we're good
for miles on either side - there's nothing here but fields. Stalkers stick near
towns and villages where they know there are people.�</p><p>Justin tilted
his head to the side. "What are they?"</p><p>I swallowed. I
didn�t want to spend time thinking about the stalkers. "Don't ask. Just if
we ever see one, for god�s sake do what I say."</p><p>A few hours
later the woods were cloaked in darkness. Somewhere in the tree above me a bird
shuffled in its nest, and aside from that the only sound was the regular chirp
of crickets. A breeze blew cold on my cheeks, and with it came the smell of
spring onions from a patch that must have been growing nearby. The sky was so
black that I couldn't see whether it was cloudy or not, though the absence of
stars wasn't a good sign. The last thing we needed when we didn't have shelter
was for it to start raining. I'd spent some long, wet nights out in the open
over the last few years, and I didn't plan to spend many more if I could help
it.</p><p>Justin had his
back against a log that was led horizontally on the forest floor. The middle of
it was hollow and looked like it had been chewed by something, but the hole
wasn't big enough to get inside. I rested my body against a tree, but I kept my
mind alert. It felt good to sit down. I could actually feel the tiredness
seeping out of me; it was like a warm energy that drained from my limbs. It was
a good feeling, but it would have been even better would be to get some sleep.</p><p>�I looked over
at the kid. He had his eyes focussed on his hands, and he seemed to be picking
dirt from underneath his fingernails. Could I trust him to keep watch tonight,
I wondered? I really needed to get some shut eye, even if it was just for an
hour, but I didn't want to go to sleep and leave the kid watching out for me.</p><p>No, I couldn't
do it. No matter how scratchy and red my eyes were, no matter how much my
shoulders felt like a weight crushing me down, I couldn't sleep while he sat
watch. I was just going to have to snatch ten minutes here and there when it
was light. My body ached at the thought of the next morning, of another day of
hiking on tired limbs.</p><p>"Justin,"
I said.</p><p>He looked up.
His eyes were puffy. "Yeah?"</p><p>"You
should get some sleep."</p><p>He put his
hands on his lap. "How long've you been out here Kyle?"</p><p>"Don�t
talk, just go to sleep. I'll keep watch."</p><p>Justin put his
bag in front of him then led his head on it. He wrapped his green raincoat
round his body and tucked it tight up to his chin. It only took fifteen
minutes, and then he was out for the count. As the kid lightly snored the night
away, I began to wonder how we were going to cope for the next few hundred
miles. He wanted to experience what it was like out here in the wild, in the
real world, but he had no idea whatsoever how to live in it. If we were going
to make it to the farm without further incident, then I was going to have to
teach him how to survive.</p><p>The fact was,
as soon as we reached the farm he was on his own, and whether he decided to
carry on living in the wilds or he decided to go back to Vasey, he was going to
have to do it independently. I knew I would never buckle from the decision to
leave him, but I could at least prepare him better for when the time came.</p><p>The night sky
reached its peak of darkness and the visibility in the forest was less than a
couple of metres. The temperate had plummeted, so I zipped up my coat and
tucked my chin inside. In a way I was thankful for it, because the cold helped
keep me alert.</p><p>Despite having
potential hypothermia as an ally, though, my eyelids were starting to feel
heavy. My head was light, my body drained of energy, my eyes closing. I
struggled to keep them open as my brain coaxed me into a soft sleep, and soon I
felt myself surrendering against the feeling.</p><p>������������������������������������������������������� ***</p><p>I opened my
eyes. My brain felt fuzzy from the sleep I had just accidentally taken.
Somewhere to my right, I heard something crunch. I felt my face drain of blood,
and one word automatically leapt into my brain: Stalker.</p><p>My shoulders went
tight and my hands were clammy, but I took a deep breath, held it in and tried
to control myself. I looked at Justin. The only movement coming from him was
the rise and fall of his chest. I turned my head to the right and listened
intently. If it was a stalker, it probably wouldn't make another noise, I knew.
There were two possibilities: either it had caught our scent and it was working
its way toward us, in which case the first we would know about it would be when
it tore one of us apart. The second possibility was that it was a lone
infected, just another corpse shambling through the forest.</p><p>Please be an
infected, I thought.</p><p>Justin stirred.
No, I thought, don't wake up. That would be the worst damn timing ever. To my
right there was another crunch, and the sound of something dragging. I stared
as intently as I could but my eyes couldn't puncture the thick curtain of
darkness. Whatever it was could be metres away, and we wouldn't have the
slightest idea. I looked up at the sky. Never in my life had I wished more for
a little bit of moonlight.</p><p>Justin moved
again. I got to my knees and crawled toward him as quietly as I could, taking
care to brush my path for any twigs that could snap underneath me. When I
reached him, he was waking up. He mumbled something unintelligible, and then shoved
the rain coat off his chest. He was about to sit up when I put my hand firmly
on his chest, pushed him down and put my hand over his mouth.</p><p>"Don't
make a sound. There's something out there, but I don't know what and I don't
have a clue where it is," I whispered.</p><p>I moved my hand
away from his mouth. Justin quietly sat up. He looked around him, but he could
see about as much as I could. His eyes were squinting into the darkness.</p><p>"Stalker?"
he said.</p><p>I listened
again. I could hear the dragging sound, but it seemed to be going further away.
I let out a breath and felt a wave of relief. This was no stalker, and if it
was, it was a pretty damn bad one. At any rate, whatever was out there was
moving away from us. What worried me more though was falling asleep while on
watch. That was dangerous for both us.</p><p>"Talk to
me about something," I said to Justin.</p><p>He straightened
up and rubbed his eyes. "You actually want to talk to me?"</p><p>I nodded.
"Got to keep awake somehow, unless you got some coffee tucked away
somewhere."</p><p>"What
should we talk about?"</p><p>"You got a
water bottle?" I asked.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>"Pass it
here then."</p><p>I took a big
drink, letting the first few gulps of the cold water take care of my thirst. I
sloshed another gulp round my mouth to clear the dryness. I spat it out onto
the forest floor. "Ask me a question," I told him.</p><p>Out in the
distance, the dragging sound got even fainter. "What happened to your
wife?" Justin asked.</p><p>It was like a
sucker-punch in the stomach. I'd expected him to ask something light and easy,
but instead he'd gone straight in for the big question.</p><p>�"Not
about me," I said. "You wanted to know about the world and what it�s
like living without Vasey�s walls Well, I�ve lived out here almost as long as
you�ve been alive. So ask me about it."</p><p>He cleared his
throat. "Why do you let some of the infected walk away? How come you don't
kill all of them?</p><p>I sat back
against the tree trunk. There was something sticking out from it into my back,
but I didn't move. The uncomfortable sensation made it easier to stay awake.</p><p>"Just a
case of conserving energy and making as little noise as possible. Don�t kill
something that you know isn't going to kill you, because it's a waste of time.
Plus, killing things at night attracts stalkers. They can smell blood being
spilt, even if it's the clotted stuff that leaks out of the infected.�</p><p>"So it's
not because you think they're still people?"</p><p>I almost
laughed at the thought. "Fifteen years ago they were people, kid. Those
days are long gone."</p><p>"I always
wondered what it was like to live back then. Moe told me you could get on a
plane and visit other countries."</p><p>I looked up at
the sky and thought about the last time I�d seen something flying up there. It
was seven years ago, when I was with Clara, her brother David and the rest of
the group. We'd seen a helicopter hover over us for a few seconds, and then it
flew away.</p><p>"Is Moe
your dad?" I asked him.</p><p>"Dad's
dead." said Justin. His words were automatic and sounded hollow, as though
it was an answer he'd been taught.</p><p>It made me
think of my parents. I wondered what had happened to them, how things had
ended. I liked to think that they'd died peacefully, but somehow I doubted it.</p><p>"Why did
you really want to come with me?" I said. �And don�t give me this �seeing
the world� bullshit.�</p><p>He took a few
seconds to consider the question. When he spoke, his voice was a whisper.
"It's too confined there. They're just waiting to die, all of them. They
never think or plan, they just drink and smoke and fight. One day they're gonna
run out of food or someone's gonna leave the gate open and a load of infected
will get in. Either way, I had this feeling that if I stayed there, I was gonna
die.�</p><p>I nodded.
�You�re not wrong.�</p><p>Justin looked
at the ground.� �I had a dream where Moe let one of the infected into my room
while I was asleep and it ate me."</p><p>I shook my head
slowly, though in the darkness I doubt Justin saw it. "It's not much
better out here," I said.</p><p>I was starting
to feel sorry for him. Sorry that he had been born into this world and had never
known anything else. At least I'd had something of a life before all this - I
had a job, a house, a beautiful wife. I was forty-two now, so I'd already had
twenty seven years on earth that I didn't have to spend worrying about being
eaten or seeing other people get eaten. This world was all Justin knew, and all
he'd ever know. I didn't blame him for wanting to leave town, because I felt
the same way as him. But that didn't change anything.</p><p>"Justin,"
I said.</p><p>The kid looked
up.</p><p>I stretched my
legs out in front of me. "As soon as we get to the farm, you're still on
your own. If it comes down to life and death along the way - between me and you
- I choose me every time. Don't ever forget that."</p><p>A thick cloud
hung above us in the night sky. Slowly rain started to drip down, hitting the
leaves of the trees in heavy patters and then falling onto us. It soaked into
my clothes and skin, and made me shiver. Despite being cold and wet, I was
thankful for the rain, because at least it helped me keep my eyes open.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter 7</strong></p><p>"Stop
being so stubborn."</p><p>Justin stood in
front of me and stared. I sat down on a rock and put my head in my hands,
ostensibly using the time to think, but really trying to snatch every second of
rest that I could. The kid was getting used to our long walks now and we had
fewer rest stops. It was amazing what a good night's sleep could do for you.</p><p>I didn't know,
of course, because I was sleeping only an hour or two a night. My body ached
like it was held together by cello tape. I rubbed my head and my skull felt
hollow.</p><p>"We have to
take the motorway, Kyle. I know what you're saying, but just trust me,� said
Justin.</p><p>The word
'trust' snapped me out of it. I lifted my head. "We don't have to go
anywhere except where I say so. The village is quicker."</p><p>We were on the
top of a grassy hill, high enough for the wind to collect and snap around our
heads. The view was spectacular; to our west was the Ribble Valley, a
collection of hills that stopped just short of being mountains, but none the
less attracted waves of hikers during the summer.</p><p>Clara and I had
climbed one of the modest peaks once, and I remembered having to stuff my
pockets with the contents of her handbag when the handle snapped. I could
remember it in minute detail, the smell of the grass as it cooked in the sun,
the feeling of the breeze on my freshly-shaved head. It was stupid that this
was the stuff I remembered, yet despite being together most of sixteen years
Clara's face was fuzzy in my mind. It was strange, the little memories that the
brain filed away and marked as relevant while forgetting other stuff. I felt
the top of my head and ran my hands through my now-thick hair, messy from
months without a cut.</p><p>Below us was a
metaphorical fork in the road. One track would take us through a village called
Blackfoot, and the other route was on the M7C motorway. Given that I�d been
here before, I knew something of this place, and I knew which route to take.
Justin might have liked being the guide and telling me which direction to go,
but today I didn�t need him.</p><p>"I really
don't want to go through the village," said Justin.</p><p>I looked up at
him. With the tip of his right foot he scratched the back of his leg. He was
still wearing the raincoat that was so big on him in practically reached his
knees, and tucked into his belt at the front of his trousers was a hunting
knife that he had gotten from a hardware store in Vasey. The silver of the
blade was still gleaming. In contrast I looked down at my own, and saw the dirt
that collected in the ridges, and a blade so dull that it was more useful for spreading
butter that cutting. It would have to do. You could still use it to smash
through a skull if you used enough force.</p><p>"What�s
wrong with Blackfoot?" I asked.</p><p>"The GPRS
said take the motorway."</p><p>I shook my
head. "Course it did - they all say that because they assume motorways are
quicker. Only this time, I know more than that piece of crap. Going through the
village is better. It'll cut a day's travel at least."</p><p>Justin
scratched the back of his head. "Won�t it be dangerous in down there?
Won't there be more of ...them?"</p><p>"Nothing
we can't handle if you can learn to walk a little quieter."</p><p>Justin took a
few steps toward me and bent down. His face looked a little white. "Look,
Kyle. There's something else. I know this place too."</p><p>"How?"</p><p>Justin turned
round and pointed. I followed his outstretched hand and it led over past the
village and to the east, where there was a warehouse building about five miles
out. "Down there's a wholesaler�s. Our scouts used to come this way and
make runs - the place is still full of stuff. Only, they had to stop."</p><p>I strained my
eyes and tried to make out more detail on the warehouse � there was a sign on
the front, but it was too far away to read. If Justin was right, though, maybe
it was worth a look. A wholesaler that was still full of stock was a rare thing
indeed, and my mouth watered at the prospect of the things that might be there
� food, chocolate, beer, maybe even a whiskey.</p><p>"So why
did they stop?"</p><p>Justin shoved
his hand in his pockets. "There's a group that lives in this area. They
call themselves a family, but I never heard of a family who did the things they
do. They're hunters."</p><p>"What�s so
bad about that?" I asked. I'd caught and skinned more than a few rabbits
in my time in the wilds. You did what you could, and you ate what you could to
survive.</p><p>"They hunt
men,� he said, and tucked his chin into his coat.</p><p>***</p><p>The streets of
Blackfoot were dirty and empty. The whole place was so silent that not even the
wind dared make a sound. Despite the fact that Justin was probably talking
crap, I still found myself scanning the windows of the buildings and looking
out of the corners of my eyes to see if anyone was watching us. Hunters of men.
What a load of bollocks. I'd lived in the wilds long enough to know that men
did whatever it took to survive, which sometimes meant killing others. But
there certainly wasn�t a group out there making a game of it.</p><p>We walked as
quickly as we could without making any noise, and I had Justin walk close to me
to keep an eye on him. Like it or not, after we got a few miles out of the
village I was going to need him, because from then on I didn't know the way to
the farm. As soon as we got within spitting distance of it, though, he could do
whatever the hell he wanted.</p><p>�There was a
rotten smell in the air, and somewhere in the distance I heard a feral dog bark.
I reached to my belt for my knife and gave the handle a tap. Dogs were a
problem whenever you got into a village or town. They ran in packs, five or six
beta dogs subservient to an alpha, and they were ridiculously aggressive against
anything that moved. Who thought that man's best friend would turn on him so
easily?</p><p>"How far
do we need to go?" asked Justin. He stared straight ahead, oblivious to any
danger, whereas I jerked my head from left to right trying to scan every
conceivable place an infected could be lurking.</p><p>"Through
the high street and straight on out of town. That way, we make a detour that
cuts out half the terrain that the motorway can't avoid."</p><p>"And what
about them?" he said, nodding to the infected that were in front of us.</p><p>Two of them
stood in our path, and when they saw us approaching them they turned and
moaned. I tried to make out what they had once looked like, but fifteen years
after infection it was tough to see any humanity in them. Their faces were full
of sharp edges from where their bones pressed against their skin, and their
scraggly hair tumbled to their shoulders. They stretched out their arms, and at
the ends of their fingers long, dirty fingernails pointed at us. That was one
of the more disgusting things about the infected; the fact that their hair and
fingernails carried on growing after death.</p><p>"Is this
one of the times we ignore them?" asked Justin.</p><p>I reached for
my knife, took hold of the handle and pulled it out. I turned to the kid.
"Think about it. Which direction do we need to go?"</p><p>"Straight
on."</p><p>"And where
are they?"</p><p>"Straight
on."</p><p>I pointed my
knife at them. "Then this isn't one of the times we ignore them. You take
the smaller one on the left - he looks your height. "</p><p>I walked
forward, poised and alert. Justin kept pace with me, and when we got closer he
pulled out his knife. He held it at an awkward angle, almost at his waist,
which meant that he had more work to do to stab the infected in the head. I
held mine at head height and tensed my arm. Set on earning their meal, the
infected let out guttural moans and stumbled toward us. They were only metres
away now, and I could feel my pulse quicken in anticipation. I steadied my legs
and got ready to stab.</p><p>My infected
launched at me clumsily, hoping to grab onto some part of me with its outstretched
arms. It was tall and its belly was bloated, and it wore a ragged football
shirt. I stepped to the side and let it stumble past me. I reached forward and
grabbed the back of its collar, but the material was so rotted that it tore
clean out of my grasp.</p><p>To my left,
Justin cried out. I snapped my eyes on him and saw that he had lodged his knife
in the smaller infected's chest just below the collar bone, and he was trying
to push the straining monster away. I took three strides toward him, raised my
knife in the air and then planted it in the top of the infected's head, caving
in its skull a meringue. I let it drop to the floor.</p><p>Justin sank to
the ground, his eyes wide and his face a deathly white.</p><p>The infected to
my right growled. I turned toward it but it was already in my face, so close to
me that when it snapped its teeth I could hear the sound of them clacking
together. I took hold of it by the neck with my left hand, raised my right and
then brought my knife down into its skull. As the dead body fell to the floor,
I let a long breath escape my lungs. After a few seconds, I got myself
together.</p><p>"Did it
bite you?" I asked him.</p><p>He shook his
head. His face was pale and I could see that his hands were shaking. This was
the first time that I had ever seen the kid scared - he hadn't even blinked
when I'd strangled him back in the shack. I knew I should ask him if he was
alright, show a little concern, but I didn�t have time for that.</p><p>"Pull
yourself together," I said. "There will be more."</p><p>Sure enough,
behind us at the bottom of the high street a couple of infected had gathered
and were slowly picking up our trail. More would appear before long, I knew,
and soon we'd have a crowd of them chasing us. The chase itself wasn't a
problem, because they could never pick up enough speed to catch you. The
problem was that they were relentless. Once they got on your trail - that was
it. They wouldn't stop and rest, they wouldn�t sleep. They were driven by only
one basic impulse, and they would stop at nothing to get it.</p><p>"Pick up
your pace." I said.</p><p>We moved
quicker down the high street. I looked behind me and saw that the two infected
were now six. Ahead of us, the street twisted round a corner. I knew that round
it there was another short walk and then we were out of Blackfoot. I couldn�t
wait to leave.</p><p>I looked behind
us again. Now there were ten of them. Where the hell were they coming from?</p><p>"Just
round this corner then we're home free. Come on, speed it up. And don't look
back."</p><p>As soon as he
heard me say the words, Justin looked back. "Shit," he said.</p><p>We were moving
just short of a jog now. We travelled through the high-street and turned the
corner, after which we would be golden.</p><p>As soon as we
turned the corner though, I froze.</p><p>"Oh,
fuck," said Justin.</p><p>I would have
scolded the kid for his language, but his sentiment was right, because in front
of us was a giant makeshift barricade that completely blocked the exit to the
village. It stretched twenty metres from either side and was made of various
items of scrap metal - steel sheets, kitchen sinks, shopping trolleys - that
were arranged like a madman's game of Tetris. There was no way through it, and
there was sure as hell no way to move it.</p><p>Behind us, a
couple of hundred metres and closing, fifteen or so infected chased us.</p><p>"Now
what?" said Justin.</p><p>"Give me a
minute," I said, and put my hand to my forehead.</p><p>Justin stared
at the makeshift barricade that blocked us in. His eyes seemed to light up, and
a little of the colour came back to his cheeks. "There's a way
through," he said.</p><p>I looked at the
barricade again. It might not have been air tight - there were gaps in it here
and there - but there sure as hell wasn't enough room for a person to fit
through.</p><p>"Don�t be
stupid," I said.</p><p>He looked at me
with a wounded look on his face. "I'm telling you, Kyle. There's a way.
Stop being so stubborn and listen to me." He walked over to the barricade.
"Lemme go first then, and prove it."</p><p>I was going to
tell him to shut up and let me think, but before I could say anything he moved
a shopping trolley as much as he could to one side to work enough room to
squeeze into. With that, he squirmed his way through the barricade. I looked at
the hole that he had left, and there was no way I was going to fit my frame
through it. I was considerably bigger than Justin, and I was nowhere near as
agile. The kid was like a rat.</p><p>I bit my tongue
and tried to fight back the rising anger that I could feel building. Why had he
gone off like that? Way back when we started, hadn't I specifically told him
that he had to do everything I said, that he mustn�t act on his own? Yet he had
gone and done just that, leaving me stood on my own, trapped and with twenty of
the infected closing in. Just wait until I got hold of him; the strangling was
going to seem like a treat compared to what I would do this time.</p><p>The infected
were close enough now that I could make out what passed for their faces. I
could see their expressions - blank for the most part, yet there was something
like desire in their eyes, something in their stares that glimmered. It was
likely a hunger for my flesh, but it was proof enough to me that something
about them was still alive, even though they weren�t people.</p><p>At their pace,
I had five minutes until they reached me. I still had my knife, and with that I
could probably take a few of them out, but with no space to fight and nowhere
to run, this was a battle I was sure to lose.</p><p>Above me the
sky had taken on a late-afternoon grey tint. It was getting dark, and we were
supposed to be out of the village by now. I looked at the barricade. Where the
hell was the kid?</p><p>"Justin?"
I shouted, no longer caring about making a noise.</p><p>There was no
answer.</p><p>I weighed up my
options. As I saw it, I only had two; fight the twenty infected on my own, or
try and get through the barricade.</p><p>I put my knife
back in my belt and walked up to the wall of scrap metal. I found the part that
Justin had squeezed through, and I pushed on the shopping trolley to try and
make a little more room for myself. Blowing out as much air as I could to make
my body smaller, I crawled forward. I worked my way slowly through the
barricade, squeezing my body into a much smaller space than it had any right to
fit. Through squirming carefully and sucking in my stomach, I could almost see
an exit.</p><p>And then I got
stuck.</p><p>I tried to move
my body, but it was wedged right between two blocks of metal. I felt my chest
tighten and adrenaline shot through me as the panic took over. No matter how
much I tried I couldn't move. Outside the barricade and on the high street, the
infected were so close that I could hear them moan. My legs poked out of the
barricade and soon they would be an open target for the infected to chew on. I
was going to be eaten alive.</p><p>Or half of me
was, anyway.</p><p>I started
breathing noisily heavily though my nostrils, and it was all I could do now to
shout out madly. "Justin," I said in as calm a voice as I could.
"If you're here, I need your help right fucking now."</p><p>When no reply
came, I suspected the worst for him. For now though, his wellbeing was the
furthest thing from my mind. This was it for me. The infected were getting
closer to my outstretched legs, and I was completely stuck.</p><p>From outside
the barricade, a gun popped off. There was the sound of bodies hitting the
pavement as the gun exploded several times, and then it stopped. My heart
hammered. I twisted and turned and slowly shifted the metal off me and backed
my way out. I managed to move my body around so that the top half of me was out
of the barricade, but my leg was still trapped. I looked up and saw what the sounds
had been.</p><p>A man was
there. A man with a gun and a grin.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter 8</strong></p><p>There were still five stray infected
all within a feet of him, but the man didn�t seem to care. One of them stumbled
close, but he sidestepped, got behind it and drove a hunting knife through its
head with a crack, sending bloody skull fragments to the floor. He wiped the
blade on his green khaki trousers.</p><p>As he walked over to me his steps
were almost playful, and despite how heavy his boots looked, they didn�t make a
sound on the ground. Justin could learn something about stealth from this guy.
He had a thick brown moustache that curled over his top lip and into his mouth,
which must have been irritating, and his eyes were small, squinty, and gave him
an almost sneering look.� I wondered if his army khakis meant he was in the
military, or if he was one of those guys who just loved to pretend he was.</p><p>Before getting to me he stopped above
the body of one of the infected. It was a little boy who wore a blue t-shirt.
The man put his foot underneath the boy�s body and gave a kick, flipping him
over. On the boys t-shirt, faded but just about there, was the outline of a
train. The man looked at the boy�s face as though he was trying to recognise
him, but attempting to see any facial features was made impossible through
fifteen years of infection. He shook his head and turned his attention back on
me.</p><p>I moved my foot and tried to pry it
loose inch by inch, but it wouldn�t move. The weight of the metal on it was
such that if I moved too much, the whole barricade was going to shift itself
onto me and break my foot, and then I really would be screwed. I could still
move my arms though, so I reached to my waist and pulled out my knife. I looked
at the man and wondered if I�d get time to use it.</p><p>He lifted his gun up in the air and
gave a sideways nod to it, with a mocking look in his eyes.</p><p>�Gun beats knife,� he said. His voice
was gravelly, like a boot crunching on glass.</p><p>He was right, I knew. If things went
bad I could swing my knife all I wanted, but all he had to do was take a step
back out of my reach, pull the trigger and I�d be done. With the metal sheets
trapping my leg, I was completely at his mercy. Behind him, the four infected
were slowly making their way toward us. I felt sweat trickle down my forehead.</p><p>The man took a step closer and knelt in
front of me so that his head was only a little higher than mine. Up close he
had the same unwashed smell that most of us travellers had, so it was obvious
he wasn�t from Vasey. He also smelt faintly of Old Spice, and I didn�t know
where he could have gotten that from, or why. What did it matter how we smelt
these days? He had a dark leather belt around his waist. On one side of it was
a sheath for his knife, and then wrapped around the rest of it were what seemed
to be parts taken from various animals � a couple of rabbits paws, presumably
for luck, and some teeth that looked like they were from an alligator, though
he must have ordered these online before the infection. As I followed the trail
of animal memorabilia hung around his belt my eyes snapped onto something, and
I felt a cold shiver run through me.</p><p>There was a human ear on his belt. It
was torn and mangled, but unmistakably human.</p><p>I remembered what Justin had said about
the hunters, and suddenly it didn�t seem so stupid. The need to free my leg
became more urgent, and the feeling of being trapped jabbed at me. It was a
struggle to control my breathing, and my chest felt tight. Behind us, getting
closer still, the infected moved toward us.</p><p>�Name�s Torben,� he said. His voice was
as rough as sandpaper. �Torben Tusk.�</p><p>I looked down at my leg, but there was
no way I could get myself free. It would take someone to hold up the metal while
I dragged myself out, and Torben didn�t move to help. I still had my knife in
my hand, but he was knelt in such a way that he could easily move himself back
if I took a swing at him. The infected were moving slowly toward us right now,
but they would speed up when they got closer, and at that point I would need
Torben to take care of them or they would be on me.</p><p>Where the hell was Justin? I wanted to
look at the other side of the barricade to where he had squirmed his way
through, but I didn�t want to draw Torben�s attention to it. The longer he
thought I was alone, the better.</p><p>My only option was to see what he
wanted, and hope he didn�t want one of my ears for his belt. I was conscious of
the fact that my bag was on the floor a few feet away from me, and in it were
the bulk of our supplies as well as the broken GPRS. I prayed Torben didn�t
notice it.</p><p>Torben wiped his knife on his khakis
again. He brought the tip of it toward his mouth and stuck his tongue out so
that it was millimetres away from the blade. I thought of the lingering
infected atoms that would still be on the silver, just waiting to enter a new
host.</p><p>�Peculiar, don�t you think? One little
nick from this blade, and in a few days I�ll be one of them,� he said,
gesturing behind him. He didn�t seem to care that the four infected were only
fifty feet away and headed in his direction.</p><p>I stayed quiet and kept my eyes focussed
on him, waiting for the slightest of movements in my direction. As silently as
I could, I twisted my foot and tried to make room to pull it out.</p><p>He held the blade of the knife in front
of him as if transfixed. �We�re all living like this � inches away from the
knife edge. Makes you wonder if it wouldn�t be better to just give in and
become one of them.�</p><p>The infected were forty feet away now.
Where was Justin?</p><p>Torben leant in a little closer. �How�d
you come to be in this fix?�</p><p>I feigned a smile. �I slipped.�� I
needed to play nice as much as I could, but I wasn�t telling him anything.</p><p>�Accidents happen easier than you think,
�specially now. You from town?�</p><p>�Yeah,� I lied.</p><p>He turned his head away from me and looked
at my rucksack on the floor. As he moved, I saw an infected closing in behind
him less than ten metres away. My heart pounded. Should I warn him, or should I
let it pounce on him? I didn�t trust the guy an inch, and he gave off a vibe
that made me want to get far away. But once the infected was done with him, it
would eventually turn its attention toward me. Justin was gone and I was stuck,
and I�d be helpless as all four of the infected ripped me to pieces.</p><p>The infected was five steps away.</p><p>�Behind you,� I said.</p><p>Without even looking first, Torben
readied his knife and span his body, connecting with the stomach of the
infected and slashing a deep gash through its skin. Through the tear in its
abdomen the infected�s rotten guts slipped out and slapped onto the floor.
Torben sprang to his feet, hooked his right leg behind the infected and pushed
it to the ground. He walked around to its head, lifted his boot in the air and
brought it down with all his weight. The infected�s skull caved like a
watermelon and sprayed bits of blood and bone onto the road.</p><p>Somewhere behind me, I heard the sound
of someone retching. I couldn�t move my head because that meant taking the
effort to reposition my whole body, and this would draw Torben�s attention to
what I was trying to look at. I knew who was being sick behind the barricade.
It had to be Justin. I just hoped he had the sense to keep quiet.</p><p>In front of me, Torben lifted his leg,
propped it awkwardly on his knee and tried to balance. He picked at the grills
of his boots with his knife and dug out a piece of flesh that had lodged
between them.</p><p>�These are great in the snow, but they�re
a bitch to clean,� he said, smiling. �Anyway, what�ve we got here?� He walked
toward my rucksack, unzipped it and began to look through it.</p><p>The sight of the stranger fishing
through my things made my blood run hot. I tried to pull my leg toward me, but
the metal wouldn�t budge.� As Torben looked through my bag, I slowly moved my
body so that I could get a view of the other side of the barricade. I managed
to do it without him seeing, and on the other side of the barricade, there he
was.� Sure enough, it was Justin, and his face was pale.</p><p>I flicked my head to the side, trying to
tell him to run. Justin took a few seconds to comprehend my instructions, but
he got them wrong. Instead of running, he started to climb the barricade. He
put his foot onto a metal dustbin and began to work his way up.</p><p>To my left Torben pulled his hand out of
my bag, and he had my GPRS in his palm. My heart pounded.</p><p>�Haven�t seen one of these in years.� he
said excitedly. �Good thinking, using one. Course I remember once getting
rerouted fifty miles and almost driving into a lake on account of one of these
buggers.�</p><p>He pushed the on button. For a second, I
worried that it would work, and that the route to the farm would flash on the
screen. I didn�t want Torben to know where we were going.</p><p>�Broken?� he asked.</p><p>�It�s a piece of shit,� I said.</p><p>He put it in his jacket pocket. The
sight of him taking what was mine made me want to get up and beat the crap out
of him, but all I could do was grind my teeth and keep calm.</p><p>�Where were you headed?� he asked.</p><p>�Just wandering.�</p><p>�A fella from the town, leaving behind
those cushy walls with a GPRS and a bag full of food? I�m no Sherlock, but to
me that ain�t just wandering. �</p><p>What could I say to him? That I was a
scout sent by the town to see what I could find? That I just fancied a road
trip? I needed something to tell him; anything but the truth.</p><p>�I got kicked out,� I said.</p><p>Torben walked over to me. He raised his
boot and then brought it slowly down onto my arm, pinning it to the floor. I
could feel the moisture on his boots from where he had stomped on the
infected�s head, and the pressure of his foot made me drop my knife. I was
powerless.</p><p>Behind him, the three remaining infected
were closing in on their meal.</p><p>Torben�s eyes narrowed on mine now, and
his voice was rough. �Don�t fuck with me. Nobody leaves that town � nobody. And
to do it with a bag full of beans, means you got a plan. It must be pretty damn
important to risk the wilds.�</p><p>He pushed down a little harder on my
arm, and I started to feel it go numb as the blood drained from it. I said
nothing.</p><p>�Now either you tell me where you�re
going, or you can talk to the freaks behind me instead,� he said, gesturing
toward the infected.</p><p>As I contemplated what to tell him,
there was a clang of steel from the top of the barricade and Justin leapt off
it, slamming straight into Torben and knocking him to the floor. The man led
there for a second and tried to suck in a deep breath, but he was winded.</p><p>Justin was the first to his feet. He
readied his knife in his hand with an awkward grip. Torben looked up at him
from the floor. A smile spread across his face, and he laughed.</p><p>�Look at the little stalker boy,� he
said.</p><p>Justin looked like he was shaking, and
his face was still white, but he didn�t take his eyes off Torben.</p><p>�Come to rescue your dad?� said Torben.</p><p>�He�s not my dad.�</p><p>�No, you got more guts than him by the
looks of it.�</p><p>Torben took a step toward Justin, but as
he got closer, he held his hands up to show there was nothing in them.</p><p>�Come now, let�s play nice. No need for
us to get off on the wrong foot.�</p><p>I was about to tell Justin not to trust
him, but Justin had already dropped his knife, suckered in by Torben�s gesture
of peace. Torben took another step, raised his fist and clocked Justin in the
face, sending him to the ground.</p><p>I tugged at my feet but the metal wouldn�t
budge. I still had my knife, but it wasn�t going to help much. My thoughts were
flying through my head as the blood rushed through my skull. What was I going
to do? Was he going to kill Justin in front of me and leave me for the
infected?</p><p>Somewhere in the distance, there was the
drone of an engine. I tried to reposition myself to see where it came from, but
the effort was too much for me. Justin sat up now, and he shuffled away from
Torben. The sound of the engine got louder. Torben turned his attention toward
it, and a vehicle drove round the corner. It was a four-by four pickup truck
with two guys sat inside and a man and a woman sat on the back. Next to them
were lots of bags and crates. The truck smashed into the three infected, sending
their frail bodies flying.</p><p>The driver wound down the window. �We
found it, Torbs,� he said.</p><p>Torben nodded. He turned and looked at
me, and gave me a smile so cruel that it froze my blood.</p><p>�I have to go now. But don�t think this
is the end for us. I still have this,� he said, and patted his pocket where he
had the broken GPRS.� �I�ll find out where you�re going, and whatever it is
you�re looking for, I�ll take it for myself.� Then he looked into my eyes. �As
for you, you�re too good to waste with a bullet. You belong on my belt.�</p><p>He patted his belt and I saw the animal
parts sway. He walked over to my rucksack on the floor, picked it up and threw
it onto the back of the pick-up truck. Then he turned back to me.</p><p>�Get your little boy to help you loose,
and then go. We�re going to play a game, you and me. You�ve got a head start,
but you�re going to need to hurry. From now on, you�re hunted. Try and give a
better game than this one,� he said, and pinched the human ear on his belt with
his fingers.</p><p>He walked to the truck, put his foot on
a tire and heaved himself onto the back. He gave the side of the vehicle a
knock with his hand and the driver started the engine.</p><p>�Been a while since I got to hunt. Good
luck!� he said, and smiled.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
9</strong></p><p>I needed to find shelter before the sun
completely disappeared and covered the countryside in darkness. We left
Blackfoot as far behind us as we could, and as we climbed a muddy hill I looked
over my shoulder from time to time, checking there was no movement coming from
below. There was no sign of Torben and the hunters.</p><p>I didn�t know where they were headed but
I knew one thing � they were hunting us now. Torben wasn�t just a survivor in
this world, I realised; he actually relished it. The trophies that hung from
his belt said as much. Everyone in the wilds had to hunt to survive, but I
hadn�t yet met anyone else who wore the spoils of their hunt around their waist.</p><p>And I had never met a man who hunted
humans before.</p><p>Justin took big strides beside me. He
had his hands curled into fists at his side, and he seemed full of nervous
energy.</p><p>�Did you see it? The way I smashed into
him?�</p><p>�I saw him punch you in the face.�</p><p>Justin�s cheek was red from where
Torben�s fist had connected with it, though mercifully the hunter had missed
his eye.</p><p>Justin turned his head to me. �You could
at least say thanks, you know.�</p><p>�For nearly getting us killed?�</p><p>He shook his head. �For saving you.�</p><p>I stopped walking. The side of the slope
was slippery and the quickly darkening sky didn�t give us much time to waste,
but I felt if I didn�t straighten this out right now I was going to end up
pushing the kid down the hill.</p><p>�When we set out, when I agreed to let
you come with me, what did I say?� I prodded his chest. �I told you that you do
exactly what I tell you.�</p><p>He scratched his ear. �But you weren�t �
�</p><p>�Shut up,� I said. I felt my body tense
up and my pulse quicken. �If it weren�t for you climbing through the barricade
like some clumsy chimp, we wouldn�t be in half the shit we are now.�</p><p>�I just thought � �</p><p>�Shut. Up.� I said, through clenched
teeth.</p><p>We walked up the hill for thirty
minutes, enough for my calf muscles to start to throb. It would have been more
of a struggle of course, if I had my rucksack with me. But thanks to Torben,
that was gone, and along with it were ninety per cent of our supplies and the
GPRS tracker.</p><p>A freezing breeze lashed at my cheeks
and nipped at my skin. I felt my chest and arms go cold, but I didn�t zip up my
coat. I was thankful for it, truth be told, because it would make it much
easier to stay awake, and I had a long night�s watch ahead of me. The sky was
completely black now save for the glow of the moon and stars.</p><p>�Here�s good,� I said.</p><p>We stopped fifty metres short of the
summit, where some natural force had carved a small recess into the side of the
hill. It wasn�t a four-star room with a king-sized bed, but it would be good
enough to give us some protection for the night. Besides, there wasn�t much
likelihood of stalkers all the way up here.</p><p>Justin threw his pack on the ground and
was about to sit on it.</p><p>�Wait. Open that up and tell me what
we�ve got.�</p><p>He knelt down and unzipped his bag. He
put his hands in and fished through it, and then sighed.</p><p>�Pass it here,� I said.</p><p>With my rucksack gone, whatever was in
Justin�s pack was all that we had. With the shortcut through the village now
out of the question due to the barricade and the presence of the hunters,
taking the motorway route was our only course. I needed to see if we had enough
supplies to make it.</p><p>I opened the bag and tried to see what
was inside by the dim glow of the moonlight. I couldn�t read the labels on the
tins, but I could see how many we had, and it didn�t look good; a few tins,
some water, a can of fizzy pop and a bar of chocolate. We had enough for a few
days at most, nowhere near enough to make it to the farm. All things
considered, we were screwed.</p><p>�What�d you reckon?� asked Justin.</p><p>I looked at him. He was already a skinny
boy, despite living in the safety of the town where food wasn�t much of a
pressing concern. He was probably just a naturally thin person. God knows what
he was going to look like after a month in the wilds.</p><p>�I think you�re going to need to get a
belt soon,� I said.</p><p>Justin rubbed his hands together. His
coat was thick and it was zipped all the way to the top, but his body still
shook.</p><p>�Can you light a fire?� he asked.</p><p>�No chance.�</p><p>�But I�m freezing.�</p><p>I clenched my fists, breathed in, and
fought back the rising irritation. I couldn�t afford to spare the energy it
would take to be angry with him. �Weren�t you listening back in the village?�</p><p>�Course.�</p><p>�Then use this genius memory of yours
and tell me what Torben said.�</p><p>He stuck his hands in his pockets. �That
they�re going to hunt us.�</p><p>I nodded. �And evidentially, this is a
game to them. If we light a fire up here at night, we might as throw them a
welcome party. Wait �til the morning�</p><p>It was pitch black and the only sound
was that of the wind as it blew through the grass. From our shelter we had a
perfect view of the countryside for miles around us, though in the night time,
that didn�t help much. Even the most innocent of shadows took on a menacing
form; the branch of a tree became the spindly arm of a stalker, the swaying of
a bush in the wind became the movement of an infected. Now though, we didn�t
just have the stalkers and the infected to worry about. For all I knew, the
hunters could be sneaking up the hill side ready to attack.� Maybe Torben would
tire of making this a game, and would just decide to kill us instead of toying
with us.</p><p>I looked at Justin. His eyes were wide
open, and he was staring into the distance.</p><p>�You sure they can�t fix it?� I said.</p><p>He turned and looked at me. I could see
faint rings under his eyes, the beginnings of the marks of those who live in
the wilds. He was starting to realise that sleep was hard to come by out here.</p><p>�I told you, I took the battery out and
I broke it. Even if they got another one, they wouldn�t be able to do anything.
I�m not stupid.�</p><p>I let out a long breath. �I hope you�re
right.�</p><p>Justin picked up a stone from the
ground. He twisted it in his hands, moving his fingers along its surface. Then
he pulled his arm back and threw it down the hill.</p><p>�None of this would have happened if
you�d listened to me,� he said.</p><p>��Scuse me?�</p><p>He scrunched up his face. �I wanted to
take the motorway route. I <emphasis>told</emphasis> you that�s the route the GPRS
programmed. But no � you didn�t listen to me. Because you never listen to
anyone.�</p><p>�Listen to people and you start to hear
the wrong things,� I said.</p><p>�If your way was right, then I�d hate to
be around when you�re wrong.�</p><p>�Shut up and get some sleep.�</p><p>He was right, I knew. This time, just
this once, he was right. If we had taken the motorway route, none of this would
have happened. But then, how was I supposed to know Blackfoot would be
barricaded? There was no way to predict something like that, and on paper it <emphasis>was</emphasis>
a good short cut.</p><p>Still, I should have listened, and
because I hadn�t our situation was a hundred times worse. We had hardly any
food, and as well as the stalkers, infected and whatever the hell else was out
there, we also had a group of men hunting us for fun. We were hundreds of miles
away from the farm, and the idea of getting there seemed so far in the distance
that if it weren�t so damn cold, I would have said it was a mirage.</p><p>�Want me to take watch tonight?� said
Justin.</p><p>�No,� I said, my body screaming at me as
I spoke the word. I felt tired all the way down to my bones, and my eyelids
were lead weights, but it was too dangerous for me to sleep.</p><p>It was going to be another restless
night.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
10</strong></p><p>Dawn broke and the sun hung weakly in
the sky, the gas giant finding it as hard to rise as I was. My back ached from
a night spent propped up against the side of a hill, and there was a deep pain
in my stomach. When I moved I felt a pang in my stomach, and I couldn�t stop
the groan that escaped my lips.</p><p>Justin was already awake. He�d arranged
a pile of twigs in front of him and he was furiously rubbing two stones
together.</p><p>�Why didn�t we just take the stove from
the scout shack?� he asked.</p><p>I shook my head, trying to clear away
the fog.</p><p>�It wasn�t ours to take.�</p><p>�It would have been easier.�</p><p>I stretched out my arms and felt my
elbow joints crack. �Tell me I didn�t fall asleep.�</p><p>He nodded. �You were out when I woke. I
thought I�d let you get a couple of hours.�</p><p>That worried me. I knew my body needed
sleep as much as the next man, but I couldn�t ever let myself drop off while
there was nobody on watch. I didn�t know what to do. I needed some rest, and I
didn�t know where I was going to get it. My head pounded.</p><p>Justin carried on banging the rocks
together, and I almost laughed.</p><p>�What�re you trying to do?�</p><p>His cheeks were tinted red. �I was going
to cook us some beans.�</p><p>�By smashing rocks together?�</p><p>�Thought that�s how you did it.�</p><p>I grinned. Through all his learning and
his amazing memory, he still had no clue. �Where�d you get the sticks from?�</p><p>He gestured toward the pocket of his
raincoat. �Collected them when we were in the woods. I got sticks and kindling,
now I just need the spark.�</p><p>�You�re not going to get it that way. Hand
me the chocolate and the soda from the bag.�</p><p>He passed me the items and I spent
twenty-five minutes painstaking showing him the chocolate-soda can method of
lighting a fire. It took a hell of a lot of patience, but if you were in the
wilds with nothing to set a fire going, it was as good a method as any. All you
had to do was use the chocolate to polish the can until it was all nice and
shiny,� then angle it toward the sun and use it to get the tinder smouldering.
It acted like a crude magnifying glass.</p><p>�Wow, where did you learn that?� he
said.</p><p>�I used to do a bit of camping back in
the old days. It was just a hobby then. Never thought it would become my life.�</p><p>Justin had a wide smile on his face. �I
love learning this stuff.�</p><p>�Remember it for when I cut you loose,�
I said.</p><p>I hated to admit it, but a small part of
me got a kick from teaching him. He was an eager student, and he seemed to be
getting the hang of knowing when to shut up. Back when I was a hiking
enthusiast, I�d always looked forward to the day me and Clara would have a
child � obviously a boy � and I�d get to teach him things like this. Then the
world decided to give us a big �fuck you� and any plans for the future rotted
away.</p><p>As the beans cooked, the smell of the
tomato sauce drifted through my nostrils, down my throat and put my stomach in
a twist. It was so overpowering that I felt spit collect in my mouth.</p><p>�What are we going to do?� said Justin.</p><p>I scratched my chin and my beard felt
rough beneath my fingers. When I had last shaved? It must have been weeks ago.�
�We don�t have a lot of options.�</p><p>Justin looked into the distance. �The
GPRS said � �</p><p>�Enough with the GPRS.�</p><p>�Is this just because I know the route
and you don�t?�</p><p>Of course it is, I thought. If you
hadn�t have taken it upon yourself to screw me over just so you could tag
along, I�d be fine. I felt my chest tighten and the familiar feeling of anger
welled up inside me. I tried to let it settle back down, because I didn�t have
the strength to get mad.</p><p>�If we�re taking the motorway, we�ve got
some work to do. We�ve got supplies for another couple of days, and that isn�t
going to get us far.� I said.</p><p>Justin bit his lip. �We could ration
ourselves.�</p><p>I shook my head. �Still won�t cut it.�</p><p>�Then what?�</p><p>�We either get a car and cut our travel
time, or we get more food somewhere.�</p><p>On hearing the word �car�, Justin�s eyes
lit up.� I wondered if he�d ever actually seen one before the pick-up truck
yesterday, because working cars were rare these days. There were plenty of them
scattered around and most of them still had the keys in the ignition, most
likely because their drivers had met an untimely death. The problem was that
batteries soon drained, and there weren�t exactly any mechanics out there
waiting for a callout.</p><p>�Let�s get a car!� he said.</p><p>�Not that simple.�</p><p>Rare as they were these days, I knew
someone who had one. He was also the only man alive besides me who knew where
the farm was. The problem was, I didn�t have any desire to see him again. It
wasn�t that he was a bad guy; more that he reminded me of what I had lost, of
who I had failed to protect.</p><p>Getting a car would be easier than
getting enough food to last the trip, but it wasn�t an option.</p><p>�How dangerous is the wholesalers,
really?� I said.</p><p>Justin looked at the floor. His eyes
looked grave. �Kyle, please. Let�s not do that.�</p><p>�Come on kid, can�t be that bad.�</p><p>Above us a grey cloud had gathered. The
edges were white, but in the middle of it was a heavy darkness. It started to
spit, and I felt the flecks of rain drop on my head. I was in for another
drenching if this carried on. I should have just picked up a new raincoat when
I was in town.</p><p>Justin pulled his hood over his head. He
looked at me, and I could see in his eyes that he was scared.</p><p>�Moe sent five guys there once. They
were supposed to be gone a week and come back with loads of stuff. Two months
later, we�re still waiting.�</p><p>�Hunters or infected?� I said. I hated
having to ask that question, and I thought back fondly to the time when the infected
were all I had to worry about.</p><p>�Your guess is as good as mine,� said
Justin.</p><p>The rain was coming down heavier, and
the storm cloud seemed like it had deliberately positioned itself above us.
That was the way the world was now � it actively worked against you. Once man
was the king of the planet, and now our home was trying to destroy us. How else
could you explain all this shit? The infected, the stalkers, men hunting men.
This was the end.</p><p>I wasn�t going down so easily.</p><p>�They must be ready now,� I said,
nodding at the beans. My stomach ached.</p><p>Justin dished us both a share. The smell
of them was intoxicating, and my mouth watered as I lifted them to my lips.
They tasted amazing; it was the most glorious breakfast I�d ever had.</p><p>So here was the choice then. We could go
get a car, and I�d have to face someone I had no interest in ever seeing again.
The only other option was to go to the wholesalers and run straight into a den
of either the hunters or the infected. It all came down to this question; would
I rather risk emotional pain, or would I rather risk my life?</p><p>I shovelled another spoonful of beans
and felt a warm glow in my stomach. Above us the rain cloud gathered force and
blotted out the sun. The rain thickened into a torrent, the water battering the
grass as it landed. I closed my eyes and made my decision, knowing the choice I
made could mean the end of myself mentally, or the end of us both physically.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
11</strong></p><p>GO AWAY.</p><p>I looked at the message painted in red
letters on the wholesaler wall, and I wondered if we should listen to it. The
building was a giant warehouse with a main entrance that faced us as well as a
row of windows, though the glass was dirty to see anything inside. Round back a
truck was parked up, and although I couldn�t see it, I guessed there would be a
larger entrance that was used for deliveries. The whole place was deathly quiet,
and if there were any infected hanging around, I couldn�t see any of them.
Above the main entrance there was a sign that read �NJB Foods�.� The place
looked so silent I wouldn�t have believed Justin�s warning of how dangerous it
was were it not for the spray of bullet holes carved into the brick wall facing
us, and the long smear of blood on the floor.</p><p>�About as optimistic a welcome as I
expected,� I said, looking at the crudely painted message.</p><p>Justin squinted. He was starting to look
more and talk less, a turn of personality that I welcomed. �Doesn�t look like
the hunters.�</p><p>We were sat on a grassy embankment a few
hundred yards away. We�d been here two hours so far, and my feet were starting
to itch. I wanted to get in, grab enough supplies for the journey and then get
on our way. We�d already wasted too much time over the last couple of days, and
with the hunters lurking out there somewhere, I needed� to get as far away as
possible.</p><p>�Tell me everything you remember about
this place,� I said.</p><p>Justin looked confused. �I�ve never been
here.�</p><p>�I mean what Moe or the others told
you.�</p><p>He took a deep breath. �They said it was
well-stocked and untouched, and that�s why Moe sent a scout party here. But
like I said, they never came back. People assumed they got killed.�</p><p>�Could have been the infected.�</p><p>Justin nodded.</p><p>I looked up at the sky. The storm cloud
had decided not to follow us here, though my back was still wet from where the
rain had seeped through earlier. I shivered.</p><p>�I don�t want to spend any more time
here than we have to. Follow my lead, keep your mouth shut and for god�s sake
do exactly as I say.�</p><p>Some part of me had expected to find the
wholesalers locked shut as if the owner, sensing the shitstorm that was about
to engulf the world, had locked it up tight. Instead I twisted the handle and
the door opened, and for a second I was so surprised I almost didn�t want to
step inside.</p><p>As soon I walked in a sour smell hit me.
It was the smell of rotting food, a stench so thick that it stuck to the back
of my throat. Justin lifted his sleeve to his face and covered his mouth.� We
walked around a corner, opened another door and then we saw it.</p><p>There were rows upon rows of shelves, but
most of them were empty. Of those that did have food, most of it was thick with
what looked like hair, but I soon saw that it was mold. Apparently there had
once been a fresh produce section, but now it had rotted so badly that it
resembled a mossy tumour. On the other rows there were a few cans scattered
here and there, but most of the shelves held only dust. My heart sank.</p><p>�Could be more at the back. It�s a big
place,� said Justin, trying to reassure me.</p><p>Something was wrong here. All my nerve
endings were on edge, and all of them were firing a message up to my brain that
translate as �GET OUT�. Maybe the sign on the front of the building had been
right; perhaps it was best to just go away. But who had written it? Who had
taken all the food? Whatever had happened, we were going to have to explore
more before giving up.</p><p>The warehouse seemed to stretch far
back, endless rows of metal shelves that were as long as a bus and reached up
to the ceiling. I couldn�t see the back of the room, because the further back
the warehouse stretched, the darker it got. I guessed if I walked to the end I
would find the delivery doors.</p><p>With so little natural light coming in
from the windows and the complete failure of the electrical ones, the place was
a dark abyss.</p><p>Justin took a step forward. I put my
hand on his shoulder. �Remember what I said; you�re not Indiana Jones. �</p><p>�Who�s Indiana Jones?� he said.</p><p>�Just don�t go running off. I don�t
trust this place.�</p><p>The sound of every step we took echoed
off the floor and drifted up toward the ceiling. It was like walking in a cave.
As we walked past the rows of empty shelves Justin ran his finger along one of
them, disturbing the dust.</p><p>�Stop that.�</p><p>The further into the warehouse we went
the dimmer it became, and we had to stop to let our eyes adjust. It was an
eerie place; so black, and so still. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end,
and my eyes started to see things in the shadows. Part of me wished we hadn�t
taken this route; surely the threat of emotional pain couldn�t have been as
nerve racking as worrying about what lurked in the shadows? Should we have just
gotten a car?</p><p>�Kyle, look,� Justin whispered.</p><p>I followed his outstretched hand and
when I saw where it led, my breath caught in my chest. Wedged between two
shelves was a small tent, and inside it was the faint shape of a person.</p><p>My pulse started to quicken. Someone was
definitely in there, and from the outline of their shape, they were sitting up.
That meant that they were aware of us.</p><p>So why weren�t they moving?</p><p>I reached for my knife. Whoever it was,
whatever their problem was, I wasn�t taking any chances. Nor was I leaving here
with nothing. They would have to be dealt with right now. I took a step toward
the tent and crouched at the entrance. I flicked my hand in the air and
beckoned Justin over to me.</p><p>He moved hesitantly, and his steps were
quieter than usual. Maybe he was finally getting the hang of this.</p><p>�You pull the zipper,� I said.</p><p>He looked at me and swallowed.</p><p>�I�m right here,� I said, and held my
knife in the air ready to strike.</p><p>The darkness of the warehouse seemed
heavy now. The utter silence was so thick that it was like another presence in
itself. It could be our ally or our enemy, I knew. Silence helped you hear what
was there, but it could also betray your own footsteps.</p><p>Justin grabbed the zipper. I could see his
hands shaking, and I felt my own heart hammer. I took a deep breath and tensed
my arm. Whoever came out of that tent, whatever their state, I wouldn�t give
them chance to strike.</p><p>He slowly moved his hand. The sound of
the zipper moving was louder than it should have been, and out of instinct I
looked around me as if someone were listening.� Justin stopped, and looked at
me. I nodded for him to carry on. He moved the zipper all the way to the top,
and the tent door flapped open.</p><p>I thought whatever was in there would
come charging out, but for some reason it didn�t move. I waited, my bicep
tensed, my hand wrapped tightly around the knife, but there was nothing. I was
going to have to get in the tent.</p><p>I got Justin�s attention and pointed at
his belt. By now he was beginning to understand my unspoken commands better,
and he reached down and took hold of his knife. He held at shoulder height, his
arm stiff. I pointed at him, then at my eyes and then at the tent. He nodded.</p><p>Taking a deep breath and holding it in
my lungs, I got to my knees. I could feel my body start to shake, so I tensed
my muscles. I started to crawl slowly into the tent. Adrenaline shot through my
body, and my veins throbbed. I felt panic rise up in me, and I tried to bury it
deep inside me, tried to keep arm ready to send my knife plunging into whatever
was in the tent.</p><p>It was for nothing.</p><p>There was nothing in there but a pile of
cardboard boxes. I let out a breath and almost smiled at my idiocy.</p><p>Behind me, there was a moan. Justin
screamed out, and I had just enough time to see something move out of the
shadows and toward him before he fell into the tent, sending the fabric
crumbling around me.</p><p>�Justin!� I shouted.</p><p>I hunted for the entrance. On top of the
now-collapsed tent Justin wrestled with the thing. From the snarls it made it
must have been an infected, and both it and Justin were so heavy that they
weighed down the fabric of the tent on top of me.</p><p>Taking care not to accidentally hit
Justin, I swung my knife and sliced through the tent, cutting an opening big
enough for me to escape through. When I was out, I saw that he was led on the
ground, and his hands were wrapped tightly round the throat of an infected. His
arm muscles were straining with the effort. The monster struggled against him,
snapping its teeth so close to Justin�s eyes that it nearly took off his
eyelashes.</p><p>I took a step forward and grabbed the
infected by the hair, but the scraggly strands tore from its skull too easily
and sent the infected�s face closer to Justin.</p><p>�Hold it up,� I said.</p><p>The infected snarled and gnashed its
teeth. Justin let out a grunt, and with all his strength he held the infected�s
head toward me. I gave one short, strong stab with my knife and pierced its
skull, sending the metal deep into its brain.</p><p>I took a deep breath and let my heartbeat
settle.</p><p>�You can put it down now,� I said.</p><p>Justin let the infected�s body drop to
one side. His eyes were wide with shock and he was panting.</p><p>�Deep breaths kid,� I said.</p><p>I looked around me. I couldn�t see any
more of them, nor could I hear the tell-tale moans that said they were near.
That didn�t mean we were alone, though.� I looked up at the shelf next to me,
and suddenly my eyes were as wide as Justin�s.</p><p>�Think we got lucky,� I said.</p><p>Justin followed my gaze and saw what I
was looking at. The shelf next to the tent was empty, all save one row at the
top, on which were several boxes full of tins. I couldn�t see what they were
and I didn�t care; they could be tinned fruit, beans, chili or spaghetti, it
didn�t matter. It was food, that�s all we needed. That would be enough.</p><p>�Okay monkey boy, time to climb again.�</p><p>Justin put his hand on the shelf and
shakily pulled himself up. �I put my hand on his shoulder. �Think you can do
this?� I said.</p><p>He nodded. His breaths were steadying
and his eyes came into focus.</p><p>�Good. I�ll let a little light in here,�
I said. I didn�t want him climbing twenty feet up the shelf in the dark,
because the last thing we needed was him falling and breaking his leg.</p><p>I walked past a row of shelves and to
the back of the warehouse. There were two enormous metal shutters, which as I
suspected, were used for trucks when they made deliveries. If I could open them
and let a little light in, it might just give enough visibility to let Justin
to climb safely to the top of the shelf. Then we would get the hell out of
here.</p><p>I unhooked the bolt, took hold of the
door handle and put my weight behind it. Slowly, the shutter started to move
open and cracks of daylight seeped in. I strained against it and slid the door
all the way to the end, then stood to admire the afternoon sun.� When my eyes
adjusted to the light, I stopped dead. My breath choked in my mouth, and I my
throat was tight.</p><p>�In the yard outside, a mere twenty feet
away, there were over fifty infected walking around. They all saw me and then
turned in my direction, their arms outstretched and their teeth clamping
together. They starting moving in my direction, toward the warehouse.</p><p>I turned and ran over to Justin. He had
started his climb onto the shelf, and he was about halfway up.</p><p>�Jump down, we need to get the hell
out,� I said.</p><p>�What�s wrong, we need to ��</p><p>�Just get down!� I shouted.</p><p>My heart was pounding and my body was
covered in sweat. From the other end of the warehouse I could hear the infected
moaning. It didn�t matter how dark it was in here; their hunger was so powerful
a drive that they would find their way to us eventually. If we stayed, we would
die.</p><p>Justin looked back toward the shelf, but
I grabbed his arm and pulled him along with me. I wasn�t taking any chances. We
just had to get out, and we�d figure out what to do later.</p><p>�Kyle!� Justin said, and he stopped. I
tugged at him again, but he wouldn�t budge.</p><p>�What is it?� I said</p><p>�Listen.�</p><p>Despite the blood throbbing in my
eardrums, I listened. That�s when I realised how screwed we truly were. From
the front entrance, our only way out of the building, I could hear laughing and
voices. One voice was louder than all the rest.</p><p>It was Torben�s.</p></section><section><empty-line/><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
12</strong></p><p>The vice around us tightened with the
infected on one side, and Torben and his hunters on the other. Without any
clear escape and certainly no chance of winning a fight, I was struggling to
work out what we could do. I knelt down in front of the shelf and tugged at
Justin�s coat. He got to his knees.</p><p>Torben turned the corner and entered checkout
area of the warehouse. One of the hunters walked next to him, and two others
hung behind. From their faces, and their lack of curiosity about the place, I
got the impression they�d been here before.</p><p>�You reckon they�re still around?� said one
of the hunters. It was the driver of the pick-up truck. He was tall and his
belly pressed tightly against his shirt and spilt over his belt.</p><p>Torben looked down and spat on the
floor. �I imagine that on foot and with nothing to eat, they won�t get far.
Come on, let�s load up and head out. I want to be back on the road before it
gets dark.�</p><p>The driver shoved his hands in pockets.
On his left arm he had a tattoo sleeve, but I couldn�t make out any other
detail of it in the dark other than the fact it covered all of his skin. �Not
many shelves left.�</p><p>Torben brushed his thumb across his
moustache. �Just find one with food and take it all. I don�t want to kick my
heels here when I could be out there finding them.�</p><p>Listening to Torben talk about us like
that made it hard to stay hidden. I�d never let a man make me hide before, and
doing it now was like swallowing glass. All things being equal, I could take Torben.
That was the problem though; nothing was equal. The gun slung around his neck
and the three guys he had with him guaranteed that.</p><p>I looked at Justin. �We can�t hang
around,� I whispered.</p><p>Justin turned away from me and looked
back at the shelf. The food crates were twenty feet up at the top. �We�re not
going to get another chance like this. Look at it all, it�s enough to last a
month.�</p><p>�A month of food is no good if we�re
going to die in a few minutes. We need to leave.�</p><p>Across the warehouse Torben�s footsteps
echoed up to the rafters. He coughed, cleared something from his throat and
spat again on the floor. He turned to the driver. �They�re still around here, I
know it. Lancashire�s a big place, and they won�t have left it yet.�</p><p>�What if they don�t want to be found?�</p><p>�Just cause someone doesn�t want to be found,
doesn�t mean they can�t be. �</p><p>He was talking about us, I knew, and he
was right. There was no way on earth I wanted him to find us, but then again,
that didn�t mean he couldn�t. This was a prime example � here he was, just
metres away. We were both here by coincidence and with the same goal, but
nonetheless it showed how easy it was to slip up.</p><p>Fifty yards behind me, toward the back
of the warehouse, I heard the faint cries of the infected. The ones from the
yard were piling in now, and it wouldn�t be long before they reached us. With
them on one side and the hunters on the other, we didn�t have the luxury of
choice or time. We either fought our way out of either side, or we found
another way to escape.</p><p>I turned back to Justin.� �You see any
other way out?�</p><p>He looked around him, but his gaze drifted
back to the food behind us. �No,� he said.</p><p>�Forget about the tins,� I said.</p><p>In front of us, Torben pulled a torch
from his belt and turned it on. The beam of yellow cut through the shadows and
moved through the shelves like a search light.� The driver walked up to him and
put a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>�Torbs,� he said, �It�s been two months.
Think we gotta accept that Alicia and Ben are gone. I�m not saying they�re�no
longer with us�, but if they�re still breathing then they don�t want to do it
around us no more.�</p><p>The familiarity of the name �Torbs� as
well as the hand on the shoulder told me that these two men were friendly. Yet
when Torben turned his face toward the driver�s, there was a definite look of
scorn.</p><p>�I�m not giving up on my wife and son,�
he said.</p><p>My head span. The driver mentioned
searching for someone for two months. Justin and I only met Torben a day and a
half ago, and if he�d been tailing me for a couple of months I�d know about it.
Now there was the mention of his wife and kid. What the hell was going on?</p><p>Who was Torben looking for? Justin and
me, or his wife and son? I hadn�t just imagined him telling me he was going to
hunt us.</p><p>Either way, I knew that if he saw us, he
would kill us. That much was obvious, and I wasn�t staying here to chance it. We
were going right now, and no matter how screwed we were by leaving
empty-handed, we would deal with the consequences later.</p><p>I turned to look at Justin, but I saw
that he was gone. I looked back at the shelf with the food on it, and I saw
that he was already halfway up. �I felt my face start to heat up. He�d done it
again; he�d disobeyed me when I specifically told him to do exactly as I said.
The kid was a cheeky little bastard and a liability, and I was done with him. I
clenched my fist and felt the blood drain out of it.</p><p>I was going to have to drag Justin off
the shelf and pull him out of the building by his hair. After that, I didn�t
know what I would do with him. But I couldn�t trust him to do what I said, and
that made him a danger to me. I�d already broken enough of my rules by taking
him with me, and now it was time to stop.</p><p>As I got to my feet I banged my head straight
into the shelf next to me. A metal clang rang out into the acoustics of the
warehouse, and I saw Torben�s head snap in my direction. Out of instinct I
ducked down. My head stung from where I had hit it, but for the moment my heart
was beating so quickly that I couldn�t pay attention to anything else.</p><p>Torben flicked his torch in my direction
and the beam of light hit my eyes. I squinted and ducked my head.</p><p>�Boys,� he said with joy in his voice,
�They�re here. The hunt is on!�</p><p>There was no point in subtlety now. I
ran over to the shelf, not caring about the sound my boots made on the floor. AS
I ran I could just about make out the bodies of the infected as they shuffled
closer toward us. When I got to the shelf, Justin was already at the top of it.</p><p>He looked down at me. �Kyle � heads up.�</p><p>Adrenaline shot through my body. �Trying
to keep track of both the scuffling of the oncoming infected and the scrambling
movements of the hunters as they ran toward us fogged my brain, and I couldn�t comprehend
what Justin was saying.</p><p>�Stop screwing around.� he hissed.
�Catch!�</p><p>When the crate was halfway through the
air my brain cells fired and I realised what he meant � he wanted me to catch
the crate of cans that was hurtling down toward me. I took a step back, tensed
my muscles and readied myself. As the crate hit my forearms I felt my thigh
muscles buckle a little, but I steadied my feet and stood firm. I put the crate
down on the floor next to me. My face felt red with the strain, and I realised
I was badly out of shape.</p><p>�Flank them,� said Torben somewhere
behind me. �Trap them in, and if they come at you, don�t kill them.�</p><p>The footsteps scattered out from all
directions. Although opening the delivery doors had let in a little light, the
warehouse was still too dark to make out anything but the most immediate space
around me, so I couldn�t see where the hunters were coming from. The only
person I was sure of was Torben, and that�s because he had his torch pointed in
my direction. Above, on the top shelf, Justin looked down and waited for me to tell
him what to do.</p><p>I needed to do something. This was no
fair fight, and if all four of them managed to corner me then my odds would
drop to zero.</p><p>I looked to my right. The shelves were
all arranged in rows, and they were all so close that if one fell, it was
possible the rest could topple. If I could get a domino effect going, maybe I�d
get lucky at hit one of the hunters. Maybe this was a ridiculous plan, but in
my head I could see the shelves toppling. At the very least, a bunch of giant
metal shelves falling in front of them ought to slow them down.</p><p>�Hang on,� I said to Justin.</p><p>I walked to the row of shelves next to
us pushed against it. Although the shelves of this one were empty it was still
a twenty-foot high metal construction, and I wasn�t exactly in a peak physical
state. It took a lot of straining, but soon I managed to get it moving. As I
kept my weight on it and shoved, the shelf started to rock with its own
momentum. Soon it tipped so far forward that for a second I thought my plan was
going to work.</p><p>When it turned the other way and rocked
back in my direction, I felt my chest flood with panic. I moved out of the way
and watched it fall. It was going to hit Justin�s shelf, and there was nothing
I could do to stop it.</p><p>�Jump,� I told him.</p><p>I was too late. The shelf leaned back
like a tower block blasted with a demolition charge and it smashed into Justin�s
shelf. Both metal structures made a creaking sound and fell to the floor,
spraying metal and loose cans around the warehouse.</p><p>�Justin!� I said. I couldn�t see where
he had landed.</p><p>The hunter�s footsteps were closer now,
but I still couldn�t see them. To my left the moans of the dead were getting
louder. I looked around, but I couldn�t see Justin�s body, nor could I hear him.
This worried me; if he had fallen and hurt himself, I would have heard him
shout about it. Injuries meant pain, and pain meant screaming. Screaming meant
you were still alive.</p><p>Silence could mean anything.</p><p>I was about to take off to my left when
I heard the stomp of a boot to the right of me. �I turned my head and saw a
hunter in front of me. He was a giant guy; six foot three, completely bald and he
had a butcher�s knife in his hand.</p><p>�Got �im!� the man shouted.</p><p>There were a few acknowledging shouts,
and footsteps started in our direction.</p><p>He looked at me and a smile spread
across his lips. �The man who catches the pig usually gets first choice of
cut,� he said.</p><p>I thought about reaching for my own
knife, but judging from the size of this guy there was no chance of me beating
him. I looked over at the collapsed shelves. If Justin was buried underneath
them there was no way he�d be coming out of nowhere to help me, like he had
back at the barricade. I hoped he wasn�t buried. Wherever he was, there wasn�t
a damn thing I could do.</p><p>As I desperately tried to think up any solution
that didn�t result in my complete surrender, an unseen ally came to my rescue.
Behind the hunter, the head of an infected appeared, and he had his eyes set on
the human flesh in front of him. I could have warned the man, I could have told
him what was happening, but I said nothing. The sight of the infected made me
instinctively flex my hands, but this time I kept them at my sides.</p><p>The infected sank its teeth into the
hunter�s shoulders and tore at the skin and flesh that covered his shoulder
blade. The man screamed, and blood splashed all over his clothes and onto the
floor. He made a sound that was almost a gurgle as the infected dragged a
stringy sinew of skin off his back. He turned and tried to fight it, his eyes
wide with sheer panic.</p><p>This was my only chance. Torben and the others
would be here in seconds, and the other infected were closing in. I looked
across to my left and saw a sign for a manager�s office. Surely there would be
a way out through there?</p><p>The only problem was that escaping now
meant leaving Justin behind. I still didn�t like the kid, but there was a
chance he was still living. And if he was, it meant that he�d feel it when the infected
found him and started to tear shreds off him.</p><p>I couldn�t abandon him to that.</p><p>I sprinted over to the collapsed
shelves. My heart juddered like a drill, and the adrenaline shot that had been
dumped into my bloodstream was so intense it felt like I was on speed. Just
before I reached the shelves I heard a voice above me. I looked up.</p><p>In the ceiling, his head poking out
through an air vent, was Justin.</p><p>I opened my mouth to speak.</p><p>�I�ll explain later,� he said, cutting
me off. �Meet me out front. And don�t forget the food.�</p><p>I found the crate of tins on the floor
and heaved it onto my shoulder. My body was so jacked up that I felt like I
could have carried six of them. I left the moans of the infected and the cries
of the hunters behind and ran toward the manager�s office. As I grabbed the
door handle and started to turn, I heard a familiar voice.</p><p>�Didn�t expect this to be over so soon,�
he said.</p><p>I span round and saw Torben stood there,
his gun pointed at my chest. Behind him was the body of the giant hunter who I
had let get attacked by the infected. The monster that had bitten his shoulder
was dead, its head completely crushed, but two other infected had taken its
place and they dug through the hunter�s stomach with their hands and shovelled
parts of him into their mouths.</p><p>Torben stood in as casual a posture as
you could imagine, oblivious to sounds of the monsters eating his friend and
the danger of the other infected that moved through the darkness.</p><p>�How about we pause the game,� I said, knowing
I didn�t have many options open to me but to buy a little time.</p><p>Torben raised his rifle at my face. He
was fifteen feet away, and something told me that there was no chance he�d
miss.</p><p>�I think not. I promised I�d hunt you
down, and I�ve done it. I hope the boy isn�t dead yet though; he looked like he
had potential.�</p><p>He moved his finger to the trigger and
was about to pull it, when the driver ran up to him. His shoulders were tight
and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.</p><p>�Torbs � we gotta get out. Mick and
Bailey are dead, and there�s about forty of the fuckers coming in.�</p><p>This was my chance to leave. The
manager�s office was behind me, and through it there had to be an escape. As I
was about to turn I heard a gunshot and felt the impact of something hit the
front of me, knocking the wind out of me. I dropped the crate of cans to the
floor. I couldn�t breathe, and for a second, I couldn�t even think. I�d been
hit. This was it.</p><p>Only, I wasn�t dead yet. And while I was
still living, I wouldn�t let him get back. I turned and stumbled into the
office, slamming the door behind me. From the warehouse I heard the cries of
the infected and Torben�s gun fired again, but this time it wasn�t in my
direction.</p><p>In the manager�s office I stopped to
catch my breath. I looked down at my chest and expected some gaping hole from
the gun shot. Instead, I saw red spaghetti stains splotched down my shirt.
Torben�s bullet had hit the food crate.</p><p>I let out a long sigh, and then
collected myself.</p><p>I followed a series of doors that took
me out of the manager�s office, and sure enough they led me out of the
warehouse. When I got outside and the sunlight hit my eyes I felt a wave of
relief. I squinted and let my eyes adjust to the sun shine.</p><p>�Kyle!�</p><p>I looked up. Justin was perched above me
on a ledge about thirty feet in the air. His eyes were wide, and he shook
slightly as he stared at the ground.</p><p>�Get down, we need to move,� I said.</p><p>He held the ledge tightly. �I can�t do
it,� he said.</p><p>I didn�t have time for this. Right now,
the hunters were occupied by the infected. This was the best chance we would
have to get out of here.</p><p>�Kid, get the fuck down or I�ll leave
you. That�s your choice � jump or die.� I turned my back on him and started to
move away from the warehouse, my pulse racing and my lungs struggling to take
in enough air.� I had to get away.</p><p>I heard Justin let out a cry behind me,
and then there was a thud as he hit the floor. He screamed. I snapped round,
and saw him on the floor.</p><p>He led on the floor like an injured
footballer, clutching his ankle and groaning.</p><p>�Can you walk?� I said.</p><p>He put his hand on the floor and tried
to move his weight onto it. I walked over, put my hand under his armpit and
pulled him up. He tried to take a few steps on his hurt ankle, but he winced
with each one.</p><p>�Think I�ve done it in,� he said.</p><p>I looked at Justin nursing his ankle and
I wondered if things could get any worse. The hunters knew exactly where we
were, we were leaving without any food and after his injury Justin was going to
slow us down even more.</p><p>The world had it in for me.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
13</strong></p><p>Waves rippled out from one end of the
reservoir to the other. The water beneath was murky and gave no clue as to the
depths it held, and the darkness inside it seemed to hold the promise of dark
secrets. I wouldn�t have liked to swim in there.</p><p>The path to David�s ran alongside the
reservoir and span out into a country side full of knobbly hills and, further
on, patches of forest. This particular route had once been used by seventeenth
century merchants who shipped wool across Lancashire, and years ago, Clara and
I had walked it on sunny Sundays afternoons when we wanted to get out of the
house.</p><p>Justin sat by the smouldering fire. The
smoke drifted up into the sky in patches, and the embers glowed red. He had his
right legged crossed over his left and he was tying a sock around his ankle.</p><p>�What the hell are you doing?�</p><p>He looked up at me and blinked. �It�s
for support.�</p><p>I had to take a deep breath. For the
last two days since leaving the wholesalers it had been tough to keep a handle
on the burning feeling that rose in my chest. My fists were constantly clenched
and my whole body was so tense I felt like I was going to snap in half.</p><p>Back at the warehouse Justin had done what
he swear he wouldn�t; he�d gone against my instructions and done his own thing.
I told him to stick with me and we�d escape, but instead he climbed to the top
of a twenty foot shelf to get food and tried to be a hero. Now he�d screwed up his
ankle and he was walking like a damn cripple, and the journey to the reservoir
had taken us two days when it should have taken six hours.</p><p>I should have just left him. Why should
I support him and set myself back days because hop along can�t match my pace
anymore? He did this to himself.</p><p>But I couldn�t leave. He knew where the
farm was, and I wasn�t giving up.</p><p>My face was starting to get red again. I
walked over to the fire and stomped on it. The embers hissed under my boot and
sparks shot out from the side. I ground my teeth and then spoke, trying my best
to keep my tone level.</p><p>�What did I tell you, Justin? What did I
make you promise to me?� I said, losing the fight to keep the contempt out of
my voice.</p><p>He lifted his head a little. He looked
ashamed. �To listen.�</p><p>�So why didn�t you do that, damn it?�</p><p>�I took a deep breath. I curled my hands
into a fisted and pressed the middle of my palm with the tip of my fingers. It
was a technique Clara had shown me to calm me down, but this time it didn�t
work. I looked at the kid in front of me and all I could think was how he�d
broken my GPRS and forced me to take him along, about how he�d ignored my instructions
at every turn and got us in such a mess that we weren�t getting to the farm
this side of Christmas. I looked at the boy and all I saw was someone who was
ruining everything for me. A stupid little kid who didn�t know what he was
messing with.</p><p>Everything I did was for my promise to
Clara, and he was fucking it up.</p><p>Who the hell did he think he was?</p><p>My veins pulsed, and my skin felt hot. I
started to feel my head go fuzzy and knew I wasn�t going to be able to think properly
because the anger was taking over. I raised my right boot in the air.</p><p>�God damn it!� I screamed.</p><p>I kicked what was left of the fire and
sent red embers flying in all directions. Justin twisted his body away and
moved back to avoid being hit. His eyes were wide and his face started to drain
white. As the last of the red embers turned black and fell to the earth, I
picked up my bag.</p><p>�We�re moving.�</p><p>Justin didn�t move. He had his knees
drawn up to his chest and rested his head on them.</p><p>�Get up. You�ve wasted enough of our
time.�</p><p>He still didn�t move. I took a deep
breath and walked over to him. Was he crying? I couldn�t tell. I felt a pang in
my chest, and the hot feeling that was burning through me started to fade. This
wasn�t me. It was just the situation making me feel like this. It was like
everything turned to shit at the slightest opportunity, and my options were
narrowly dwindling away.</p><p>We had no supplies, no energy and we had
a group of hunters close on our tracks. Now the only thing we could do was get
a car, and to do that I had to go see my brother-in-law, David.</p><p>***</p><p>We crossed the road and walked by the
side of the reservoir. Something about the pool of water and the way the hills
were positioned around it collected the wind and made it snap around our heads.
My ears started to hurt, and I could see Justin�s turning red.</p><p>�Put your hood up,� I said.</p><p>He reached behind him and lifted his
hood over his head, but he didn�t say anything. He hadn�t spoken since I had
gone mad and kicked the fire. For me, there was nothing wrong with the silence.
But I couldn�t have him in a mood. I needed him to listen to me and do what I
said, so I needed to snap him out of it.</p><p>We reached the merchant�s pathway that
turned away from the reservoir. If we followed it for ten minutes, we would
reach the old building that David had taken as his home sometime after Clara
died and we went our separate ways.</p><p>�Sit down a minute,� I said.</p><p>I sat down on a bench next to the
reservoir, and Justin did the same. Behind us the waves gently lapped. Today
would have been a perfect day for wind surfing.</p><p>I looked at the kid. There were dark
rings under his eyes, and his face was drained of colour. �I�m sorry,� I said.</p><p>He looked up at me and arched his eyebrows
quizzically.</p><p>�It�s important to me,� I said, �Getting
to the farm. And when you do something to fuck it up, I can�t help but get a
little upset.�</p><p>He cleared his throat. His voice was the
quietest I�d ever heard it. �What�s so special about it? You obviously can�t
stand having me around, so what�s so good about the farm you put up with me to
get there?�</p><p>His voice sounded hurt, and I knew
everything he said was true. If I could have had my way, the GPRS would be
working and Justin would have been back in Vasey. But things hadn�t worked out
like that, and you had to work with what you had. Besides, there were some
things he could do that came in useful, I guess. He wasn�t a total pain in the
arse.</p><p>I looked at him and I suddenly saw him
for what he was; just a lonely kid with no family. He wanted an escape route,
and when he saw me, he took it. He knew he didn�t belong with the people in
Vasey, that he was different from them all. Maybe Justin and I were similar
after all.</p><p>I thought about his question and what to
say to him. It was hard, the feeling of having to share something, but the hurt
in the boy�s voice stung me. It wouldn�t kill me to tell him a little more
about the farm.</p><p>�I promised someone very special to me
that I�d get them there. It was a few years ago, after all everything kicked
off.�</p><p>�Who was it?�</p><p>I took a deep breath. �My wife. The farm
was her father�s. We didn�t live up North; we�d driven here to visit his farm
when all of this kicked off. That�s why I still had it programmed into the
GPRS.�</p><p>�You�ve got a Northern accent though.�</p><p>I smiled. �I was born here, but Clara
and I left Lancashire and moved to London. My mates never forgave me.� I smiled
to myself when I remembered the stick my friends would give me for becoming
what they called a �London yuppie�.</p><p>Justin wiped his nose. �So you�ve been
to the farm before then, if it was her dad�s?�</p><p>I shook my head. �All the time I knew
her � Christ, a decade � Clara never spoke to him. No family meals, no birthday
cards, nothing. They couldn�t stand each other, and it was over something so
damn petty. And then one day, completely out of the blue, he picked up the
phone. �So we loaded up the car and drove up here.�</p><p>�How come you didn�t make it?�</p><p>I looked into the water of the reservoir
and tried to see to the bottom, but it was too dense to make out anything but a
dark brown tint. The wind nipped at my ears.</p><p>�Before we got there,� I said, �the
world ended.�</p><p>There was a few seconds of silence as we
both stared into the pool of water. Somewhere above, a bird squawked.� I turned
my head to Justin. The boy was leant forward with his elbow propped up on his
leg and his chin resting in his palm. His eyes were deep and engrossed in
thought.</p><p>I cleared my throat. �I made a promise;�
I told Clara I�d get us there; that whatever state the farm was in, we would
fix it up and make it our own. It wasn�t the greatest plan in the world, but it
was the best we had. Better than living day to day with a target on your back.
We could get crops plants, fix the farm up. We�d never need anybody every
again.�</p><p>�Sounds like a great plan,� said Justin.</p><p>***</p><p>We walked through the merchant path.
Years ago it had been a stone walkway that cut a clear trail through the grass,
but after fifteen maintenance-free years it was covered in weeds and the stone
was cracked. The hills to either side of us offered a little protection from
the cutting wind.</p><p>As we got nearer to David�s house, my
heart hammered. I hadn�t seen him in years, and the way we left it hadn�t
exactly been friendly. I knew he�d be pissed off at me, especially when I came
to him asking for his car. If I could have thought of any solution, no matter
how difficult, I would have turned around in an instant.</p><p>�Justin kept his head down and walked,
which hopefully meant his curiosity about me was satisfied for the time being.
I still felt anger faintly twisting in my chest over what he�d done, but I knew
it wouldn�t do us any good to take it out on him.</p><p>�Your steps are getting quieter,� I
said.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>I tried to smile at him. �Well done.�</p><p>Ten minutes later we reached what passed
for David�s house. It was a red-bricked building that had once stored pumps
that helped in some way toward filtering water from the reservoir. The pumps
had been removed years ago, and ever since then the building had been left to
fall apart. There were four windows cracked with dust, and at one side of the
building there was a power generator, though it wasn�t switched on. �There was
space at the back of the building for a yard, which is where his car would be.</p><p>Justin started to walk ahead, but I put
a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>�Steady on, kid. Wait a minute.�</p><p>�Isn�t this where your brother lives?�</p><p>�Brother in law.�</p><p>�Whatever, what�s the problem?�</p><p>I scratched my chin. �You�ll see.
David�s�not quite right.�</p><p>I stared at the building for a few
minutes, trying to find a sign of life, but I couldn�t see anything. I looked
at the generator again. Despite that it wasn�t humming right now, I knew it
would be a working power supply. David was a genius at things like that,
mechanical stuff. Electronics, cars, computers, power, you name it, he had a
working knowledge of it. These days, that was a valuable skill to have. It was
a pity his personality made people want to get a hundred miles away from him.</p><p>I opened my mouth and filled my lungs
with air. �Let�s go.�</p><p>We walked down a path and toward the
front door.� I knocked on it, three taps that shattered the stillness of the air.</p><p>�David?�� I said.</p><p>There was no answer. Maybe he had left.</p><p>I knocked again.</p><p>�David, you here?�</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>I turned the handle and opened the door.
We stepped inside David�s home. It was a draughty one-floored building with a
stone floor and walls that felt cold to the touch. In one corner of the room
there was a pile of hay that was spread into a makeshift bed. There was a
carpenter�s table with basin of water and a razor on one end, and some nuts scattered
on the other. It seemed like this was his bathroom sink and his dining table
all rolled into one. �Scattered around all over the floor were bits and pieces
David had scavenged; batteries, smoke alarms, jumper cables, screwdrivers,
copper wire, rope.</p><p>�What the hell?� said Justin from the
other end of the room.</p><p>I walked over. There was a table and two
chairs. On the table there was a mug with coffee stains on the sides, and
across from it there was an ashtray with a single butt stubbed out. I saw what
Justin was looking at, what had confused him.</p><p>In one of the chairs female mannequin
sat. She had long dark hair so slick that it looked like it had been brushed
every night.� In her left hand was a book, and it had been arranged so that it
was open in the middle, as though she were reading it.</p><p>I shook my head. Had David really fallen
this far? Was he pretending to have company?</p><p>�What <emphasis>is</emphasis> this?� said Justin. He
ran his hand down the arm of the mannequin.</p><p>�I told you, David is strange.�</p><p>�Guess I believe you now. But why do
this?�</p><p>I looked at the mannequin again. She was
wearing a t-shirt that I swore was one of Clara�s. It couldn�t be, could it?</p><p>�Loneliness,� I said. �He misses
people.�</p><p>Justin sat down in the chair opposite
the mannequin. �Then why not go to town? What comfort can he possibly get from
a doll?�</p><p>I ran my fingers through my hair and
sighed. �David is scared of being alone, but he doesn�t trust people any more.�
I looked down at the floor and tried to blot out the memory that was coming
back to me, unwanted. �Someone let him down,� I said.</p><p>Justin stood up. �But why the pretend
people? What comfort does a block of plastic give you?�</p><p>I was about to answer, when I heard the
door open behind me.</p><p>I span my body round toward it and
reached down to my belt for my knife, but it was no use. David was stood in
front of me, and he had a shotgun pointed at my head. His arms were shaking and
his eyes were wild. I couldn�t even tell if he recognised me.</p><p>�Sit on the floor. Hands behind your
heads. And get away from Leila.�</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
14</strong></p><p>He pointed the shotgun at us but he
couldn�t seem to choose between me or Justin, and he adjusted his aim so that
he was in the middle. Presumably this meant he�d be able to shoot either of us
should he need to.</p><p>How long had it been since I last saw
him? I must have been half a decade at least, and those five years hadn�t been
kind to either of us. The hair above his temple had receded so that his fringe
was reduced to just a small patch just above his forehead, and his once dark
hair was flecked with grey. His cheeks were sunken and the bones protruded
against them, and there was a lost look in his big brown eyes. He was six foot
two inches tall, but his back looked slightly crooked, and his arms were
definitely thinner. �Although he was looking straight at us, there was something
vacant in his eyes.</p><p>�C�mon, Dave, lower the piece,� I said.
�If you fire that thing we�ll be covered in infected. You know that as well as
I do.�</p><p>Instead of putting the gun down, he
trained it on my face.</p><p>�Rather see an infected than you.�</p><p>He didn�t mean that, I knew. David was
terrified of the infected, always leaving the killing to Clara and me.</p><p>�Where�d you even get it?� I said,
trying to think of anything to say to calm him down.</p><p>He sucked in his cheeks. �Lots of
farmers round here. Farm houses. Animals. Guns. You can get a lot of stuff, if
you look for it. Found the generator outside a barn.�</p><p>His words spilled out of him in quick-fire
succession, so fast that that it was like they were on a spinning conveyor belt
that David couldn�t control. He�d always been like this; a little on edge, the
wrong side of erratic. He�d gotten a lot worse since I last saw him.</p><p>He took a step forward. �Hands behind
your head. Move away from there.� He jerked his gun to his left.� He looked at
Justin.</p><p>�You asked about Leila, about why I have
her. Simple � I like people but I don�t trust the real thing. Leila doesn�t get
angry, doesn�t talk back,� he said. He looked straight at me. �Leila wouldn�t
just abandon me.�</p><p>The way he spoke worried me. David was
the cleverest guy you could meet when it came to mechanics, science, and
practical things like that. But, as Clara had explained to me before I met him
for the first time, he had some problems growing up. There were some things
about the world that he couldn�t comprehend and struggled to cope with, and things
like emotion were always a foreign language to him. Clara always knew just how
to handle him, but I was useless at first and it took me years to get on his
level.</p><p>�Who are you?� asked David, looking at
Justin.</p><p>�He�s with me,� I said.</p><p>David tutted. �Watch this one. Your
sister will die and then he�ll just leave you to fend for yourself.�</p><p>Justin nodded. �Don�t worry, he�s
already told me I�m on my own when we get to the -�</p><p>I interrupted him before he said the
word �farm�. The last thing I needed was David knowing where we were going. If
he knew we were going to his dad�s house he�d want to come with us, and I
didn�t need that.</p><p>There was a small part of me that knew
that I actually owed it to him, letting him come along, but I tried to
suffocate that side.</p><p>Justin didn�t seem to be scared by
David, but I was worried. Deep down he had a kind heart, but the problem was it
sometimes got clouded by poison. He used to have rages that he struggled to
control, and you didn�t want to be around when he took the lid off.</p><p>David took a step backwards, never
taking his eyes off us for a second. He reached to the counter behind him, took
hold of some rope and threw it at our feet.</p><p>�Tie your wrists together.�</p><p>I looked at the rope. It was ragged and
worn, and there was what looked like a chicken feather embedded into it. I glanced
up at David. There was an intense look in his eyes, and I could see his finger
resting on the trigger of the gun. Would he really do it, I thought? Could he
kill me? The old David couldn�t have, but it had been so long since I last saw
him. A man can change a lot when he�s left to his own devices.</p><p>I put the rope on my wrist. The material
was rough and scratched against my skin, and I struggled to tie a knot with one
hand.</p><p>�No,� said David, �Not your own wrists.
Tie yours to the boy�s.�</p><p>My head sunk. The last thing I needed
was to be tied to Justin. He made enough dumb decisions for himself, and there
was no way I was letting him get me killed too.</p><p>�No David,� I said in as calm a voice as
I could. That was the trick with David when he was mad; calm words and soothing
tones.</p><p>He walked across the room and stood over
us, the shotgun bearing down on our heads.</p><p>�Tie them together. Now. Won�t ask
again.�</p><p>I looked at my brother-in-law�s face. I
remembered how, years before this, we used to go to the footy together. He�d buy
the pies and I�d buy the beer - that was our system. We watched our home town
get promoted one season and then relegated the next. He�d been groomsman at
mine and Clara�s wedding, and he�d helped me rewire our house after a dodgy electrician
screwed us over.</p><p>He wouldn�t hurt me.</p><p>I got to my feet and stood in front of him.
I forced a smile on my face, and I reached over to grab the shotgun. �C�mon
Dave. Don�t start things like this,� I said, and move my hands toward the gun.</p><p>David took a step back. Quicker than I
could react, he span the gun round and jabbed the butt of it hard into my face.
I felt my nose crack and a kind of fizzy pain exploded in my head. Blood spurted
out and dripped over my skin, warm and thick, and dropped onto the floor. I put
a hand to my nose and when I pulled it away, it was covered red.</p><p>The pain screamed through my head. My
heart was hammering and I felt a rage start to flow through my limbs. I looked
at David. This wasn�t the same man as I used to know. I could feel my breaths
coming quicker and shorter. My face was getting hot, flushing my capillaries
with blood as my brain took in the sensory information of having my nose broken
and translated it into anger.</p><p>�You motherfucker,� I choked out.</p><p>Nobody did this to me.</p><p>I leapt forward and smashed my fist into
his face. This time David�s nose popped, and as his bone crunched he let out a
cry. He dropped the shotgun to the floor, and I could see water welling up in
the corner of his eyes.</p><p>I dropped my fist and took a step back.</p><p>�You big baby,� I said, trying my
hardest to cool down.</p><p>He looked at me and his eyes were so
intense they almost burnt red. He had blood all over his fingers, and when he
touched his cheek he left a red smear.</p><p>�You left me,� he said. �We both lost
everything. Right when I needed you, you left me.�</p><p>I shook my head. I was done with this.
Right now, getting a car didn�t seem worth it.</p><p>He moved toward me. �You left me to die!�
His screaming voice echoed off the stone walls.</p><p>He swung his fist toward me, but this
time my reactions were quick enough for me to move my head to the left and make
him miss. I ducked down a little and sank my fist into his belly. The wheezing
sound he made told me I�d struck home and I had knocked the wind out of him. I pushed
him to the floor.</p><p>�I got on top of him and sank my weight
into him. I raised my fist and was about to bring it down on his bloody nose,
when his knee sprang up and smashed straight into my groin. The world seemed to
turn white, and the only thing I could think about was the utter agony in my
testicles.</p><p>For a second, the twin forces of pain
and anger fought for control of my brain.</p><p>I was going to kill him. This was it.
The rage was taking over me. I forced myself up off the floor and turned to
him, ready to tear him apart.</p><p>Then the shotgun fired, and the loud
boom it produced almost ruptured my eardrums.</p><p>***</p><p>I looked up and saw Justin stood in
front of us. He held the shotgun in the air and smoke was drifting from the
barrel. There was a strong smell of gunpowder, and my ears rang from the
explosion. Above us there was a hole in the ceiling. Flecks of slate and dust
fell onto the floor.</p><p>What the hell was the kid thinking? By
shooting the gun he�d just made a noise so loud that every infected within five
miles was going to set their radar on us. Right now, as the seconds ticked by,
they would be turning their feet in our direction, a swarm of them all intent
on tearing us apart.</p><p>Before I could reprimand him, Justin
pointed the shotgun at me.</p><p>�What the hell?� I said.</p><p>Justin flicked his head in my direction.
I turned round and saw that David was stood directly behind me.</p><p>�We need a car,� Justin demanded.</p><p>David�s eyes were hollow, as though he
were struggling to process the situation. He had a lot to take in � his broken
nose, the shotgun blast, seeing his brother-in-law for the first time in years.</p><p>�A car? For what?� His voice was nasal
from where he pinched his nose to stop the blood.</p><p>I looked up at him. With the infected
due to arrive shortly, we didn�t have time to mess around. I didn�t want David
to know where we were going, but I couldn�t just steal a car from him. I needed
him to agree.� �We�re going to the farm,� I said.</p><p>David spent a few quiet seconds thinking.�
�Okay. Good plan. The farm. Haven�t seen it since dad died.� He looked at
Justin. �Give me the gun, I�ll show you the car.�</p><p>This didn�t seem right; he�d agreed to
this far too easily. I was about to tell Justin not to even think about giving
back the gun, but the na�ve kid had already passed it across. I closed my eyes
and let out a long, frustrated breath. How many times did he have to make the
same mistake? I thought back to Torben at the barricade.</p><p>When I opened my eyes, David had the gun
pointed at me.</p><p>�I�ll ask again. Tie your wrists together.�</p><p>Reluctantly, I did what he said. After
smashing me in the nose in the nose with the shotgun, I knew that David wasn�t
the gentle person I had once known anymore. I didn�t know this man, I didn�t
know what he was capable of. And he posed a threat to me most, of all people,
because he was angry with me for what I�d done.</p><p>Maybe he had good cause, I didn�t know
anymore.</p><p>�Go and wait outside,� he side to
Justin.</p><p>The boy looked at David and then back to
me, as though he were asking what to do. I nodded at him. He walked over to a
door at the far side of the room past the table and chairs. There was a padlock
on it.</p><p>�Use the door you came in,� said David.</p><p>When we were alone, neither of us spoke
for a while. David kept the gun pointed at my chest, but he was staring at the floor.
I wondered what he wanted and why he had sent Justin out. Was he going to kill
me? Despite how unsure of him I was, I still couldn�t believe he�d go that far.</p><p>I felt a sting of pain from my nose. I
put my finger to my nostrils and scratched away some of the dried blood. �Don�t
suppose you have any paracetamol? I heard most of them still work,� I said.</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>I needed to say something. I had to get
him out of this state of mind. The infected weren�t here yet but the shotgun
blast was sure as hell going to draw them to us, and when they got here I
wanted to be long gone. Not only that, there were others out there, apart from
the infected, who could have heard it.</p><p>Torben. The hunters.</p><p>�Remember when we were drunk in Brussels
and we had to pay out for another night because you were so wasted? They
wouldn�t let you on the flight.� I said, trying to bring up a light memory to break
the mood.</p><p>David looked up. �Remember when my
sister died and you abandoned me?� he spat.</p><p>I hung my head. I couldn�t have this
conversation, not now. I knew he was hurting, but it was something I just
couldn�t face. �Look, Dave � �</p><p>Justin came running in, his eyes wide
with panic. He stopped just short of us and caught his breath. �They�re here.
Fucking loads of them.�</p><p>I snapped my head to the doorway but I
couldn�t see them yet. That didn�t matter. Justin had seen them, and as I
predicted, they were going to swarm us.� I felt my skin go clammy, and the
tendons in my neck pulsed.</p><p>In the doorway, the first of the
infected walked through. It was a male. His body was slim and his skin was
wrapped around his bones like Clingfilm. He looked at us and growled.</p><p>I got to my feet. �We need to move,� I
said. I looked at David. He had his hands wrapped around his body and he was
staring at the infected. He blinked rapidly. The infected had always terrified
him, and I guessed that hadn�t changed in the years since I last saw him. Next
to him, on the floor, was the shotgun.</p><p>I reached down and picked it up. The
handle was clammy from David�s sweaty palms, so I wiped it on my jeans.� Justin
tugged at my sleeve.</p><p>�More of them are coming.�</p><p>I glanced at David. The infected man was
moving toward us, but David didn�t move. His breath was raspy, and his eyes
were squeezed shut.</p><p>�Justin, take care of it,� I said, and nodded
at the infected.</p><p>Justin took his knife out of his belt
and held it at head height. His stance had improved, and I was glad to see that
he�d actually paid attention to the things I taught him. Most of his awkward
posture was gone now. He was surer of himself, better at handling his own body.
He took a step forward and without a second�s contemplation sank his knife deep
into the skull of the infected, splitting its head open with a crack. The
infected�s body sank to the floor and brain fluid leaked out from the knife
hole.</p><p>�Hold this,� I said, and passed the
shotgun to Justin.</p><p>I bent down, hooked my hands underneath David�s
armpits and hauled him to his feet. Evidently he hadn�t enjoyed a healthy diet
during his time alone, because the guy weighed practically nothing. Getting him
to his feet seemed to shake it out of his trance a little, because he opened
his eyes and there was a hint of alertness there.</p><p>In front of us, three infected struggled
to get through the doorway, blocking each other�s way like commuters fighting
to get on a tube. Behind them I could see the faces of others straining to get
at us. This room was going to be filled with dead faces and snapping teeth
soon, and when it did we�d have no chance. I gritted my teeth and let out a
deep breath.</p><p>�Where�s your car?� I said.</p><p>David didn�t answer; he was too busy
staring at the infected as they groaned with their desire to eat us.</p><p>I slapped him on the face. He blinked,
and looked at me. He rubbed his reddened cheek.</p><p>�Where�s the damn car?� I said.</p><p>He pointed at the door. �Through there.�</p><p>�You�ve got the keys?�</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>Here was the choice then. I could take
the keys from David, get in the car and drive away. Or I could still take the
car and let David come with us. I didn�t want to take him, but it wasn�t really
much of a choice to make. I was hardly going to leave him here for the infected
to get him.</p><p>Not again.</p><p>�Good. You�re coming with us.�</p><p>I dragged him toward the door as the
infected finally spilled in, pushing and shoving against each other in their
struggle to get close to us. I got to the door, raised the shotgun and fired it
at the padlock. Another blast rang in my ears, and the metal smashed into
pieces. I kicked the door open.</p><p>Outside, there was the car.</p><p>I grabbed Justin and hauled him outside.
Behind me, David hovered in the doorway. The infected were a few feet away from
him now, but he didn�t move.</p><p>�What the hell are you doing?� I said.</p><p>�Leila,� said David, looking at the
mannequin sadly as the infected filled the room and swarmed around his doll,
leaving her out of reach.</p><p>�Leila�s fine. They don�t like the taste
of plastic.�</p><p>I grabbed the collar of his shirt and
dragged him away. We got in the car. There was the choke of the engine as it
sparked to life, and soon we were speeding away, leaving the infected-infested
building behind us. My pulse was racing as I turned the steering wheel and
followed the road out.</p><p>We had had the car and that was
something, but it had come at a price. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw
David. His eyes were blank and his mouth was open, and he retreated to wherever
the hell it was he went when things got too much for him.</p><p>I didn�t even want one person travelling
with me. Now I had two.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
15</strong></p><p>I steered the car through the corkscrew
country roads. I had forgotten how easily you could lose your driving skills
without practice, and the last time I�d been in a car was over a decade ago. I
remembered that Clara and I still had her beat-up Yaris when things all kicked
off, and sometime later we found a Mercedes with the engine still hot and the
keys in the ignition. I had loved driving that.</p><p>In this part of the world the roads were
tiny and they ran anyway they could but straight. At random times without any
warning the road would seem to shrink so much that your wing mirrors scraped
the hedges or the ramshackle stone walls that all ran alongside us.</p><p>I looked at Justin next to me. He stared
out of the window with his eyes wide, taking in every centimetre of scenery. To
him, someone who had fifteen years of his life living behind walls, everything
was a wonder. To me, the way the roads twisted and turned made it feel like we
were circling a drain.</p><p>�David,� I said.</p><p>I looked in the mirror and saw him
curled up on the back seat, asleep.</p><p>�How long�s he been out?� I asked
Justin.</p><p>He looked away from the window. �All day,
pretty much.�</p><p>I nodded. I�d rather he was asleep and
quiet than awake and asking me questions.</p><p>Justin leaned in a little toward me. �Is
there something wrong with him?� he whispered.</p><p>I thought about a tactful way of putting
it. �Bering alone does strange things to some men.�</p><p>��Sure does. It made you the most
paranoid, distrustful person I ever met.�</p><p>I didn�t even have the energy to
reprimand him. Last night we�d pulled over on a layby to get a little rest, but
I hadn�t managed more than two hours. In the night the country was a foreboding
place, and at one point I had seen reflective eyes staring at me through the
darkness. My first thought was stalker, and my heart pounded, but then I
realised it was a fox.</p><p>My head throbbed. I was starting to
worry that the blow from David�s shotgun had given me concussion or something
because every twenty minutes my eyelids flickered, and my attention started to
drift.</p><p>The road in front of us seemed to run
straight for a while, so I moved into fourth gear and picked up the speed. The
engine hummed in the car bonnet and on the backseat, David snored in rhythmic
breaths. A stone wall ran alongside us. It was hundreds of rocks of all shapes
and sizes piled together, presumably to keep livestock from getting into the
road.</p><p>Above us, the sky was mostly blue but
with a few rain clouds drifting through it. Little patters of water trickled
onto the windscreen, so I turned on the wipers and watched them sway
hypnotically from side to side. My eyelids felt heavy, and I knew they were
starting to close. My brain sent soothing messages through my body and tell me
it was okay. My attention began to dissipate and my thoughts drifted.</p><p>There was a loud scrape and then a thud
as the car swayed to the left and smashed into the wall, the impact of the
metal against the rocks waking me immediately. Behind me in the mirror I saw
David jolt upright. I felt my pulse racing and my breaths were shallow. I
looked at Justin next to me.</p><p>�You hurt?� I asked.</p><p>He shook his head, his eyes large and
white.</p><p>The wall in front of us was destroyed,
and some of the rocks had collapsed onto the car bonnet. I hoped the car was okay;
the last thing we needed, just fifty miles from the farm, was for it to break
down.</p><p>The worst thing was that I was to blame.
It was my stupid inability to sleep properly that had made me tired and made me
drift off while I was supposed to be watching the road. Now I�d probably wrecked
the car and I�d also put Justin and David in danger. If David hadn�t already
done it for me earlier, I would have hit myself in the nose.</p><p>David rubbed his eyes. �Back it up and
I�ll take a look,� he said.</p><p>�Want me to ��</p><p>�I said I�ll take a look,� he said,
cutting me off. From the way his eyebrows slanted I could tell he was annoyed.</p><p>I put the car into reverse and moved it
away from the wall. Luckily it responded to my actions, but something about the
engine sounded a little off. David got out front. There were a few rocks on the
bonnet, which he picked up, with considerable strain, and threw onto the road.
He popped the bonnet, and for a while his head disappeared behind it.</p><p>I put my hand on Justin�s shoulder.
�Sure you�re okay?� I said.</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>I thought about what the kid had been
through in the past month � getting choked by me, punched by Torben, twisting
his ankle jumping thirty feet off the warehouse, and now getting in a crash. He
didn�t complain much about any of it, and I knew he made an effort not to slow
me down. The kid was tougher than he looked.</p><p>�How does he know about this stuff?�
asked Justin.</p><p>I found the lever under my seat and
moved it back a little to give my legs more room. �He used to be an engineer.
He was always tinkering with stuff. When other people were out getting drunk,
David would be in his bedroom bent over a soldering iron.�</p><p>�What happened between you two?� he
said.</p><p>I looked out of the window. There was
nothing coming up or down the road, not that I expected anything. This place
was so remote that even if the world hadn�t ended fifteen years ago, cars
would� probably still be a rare sight.</p><p>�I don�t want to talk about it.� I said.</p><p>Justin slammed his hand on the
dashboard. �I�m sick of you, Kyle. That�s what you always say. You never tell
me anything! All this time on the road and you won�t tell me a frigging thing.�</p><p>He opened the door, got out of the car
and went to the front to watch David work. I wound the window down a little and
let a breeze into the car. As well as bringing in a little wind, it also
brought the smell of manure.</p><p>After a few minutes, David opened the
car door and climbed in the back. Justin followed him, this time getting in the
back to sit next to David rather than in the front with me. I rolled my eyes.</p><p>�Should be okay. I should drive now
though,� said David.</p><p>I shook my head. �Nope.�</p><p>�You�re going to fall asleep again and
total my car,� he said.</p><p>�It�s only fifty miles.�</p><p>David grabbed hold of the seat in front
of him and leaned toward me. �In your state you can�t drive five.�</p><p>I gripped the steering wheel. �I�ll be
fine.�</p><p>�Sorry Kyle,� said Justin, �but I agree.
You look like shit.�</p><p>***</p><p>The countryside floated alongside us and
we wound our way through the roads, but this time I watched them from the
backseat. I looked up at David and say that he was concentrating on the road,
his eyes wide and alert.</p><p>�Sorry,� I said.</p><p>He turned his head slightly, still
keeping his eyes on the road. �For what?�</p><p>I was going to say for everything, I was
sorry about all the stuff that had happened and all the shit I had done. But
when I tried to say that, my throat tightened and the words got stuck. I let
out a sigh.</p><p>�Sorry for ruining the paintwork.�</p><p>David looked at the car bonnet. There
were two big dents and a few scratches.� �I was going to get an MOT soon
anyway.�</p><p>I smiled and let my eyelids fall as the
road and the hedges and the walls swayed past.</p><p>When I opened my eyes we had stopped in
the middle of a wide road. In front of us and to the left was a pub with black
and white walls and a sign on the outside that read �The Babe and Sickle� and
had a picture of a gleaming blade and a tiny lamb. Up ahead was a roundabout
with overgrown grass spilling over the sides. A few cars were abandoned and on
our right there were a row of shops, but the windows so thick with dust it was
impossible to see inside.</p><p>David and Justin were already sat on the
car bonnet. I unclipped my belt and got out of the car.</p><p>�Evening,� said Justin.</p><p>I looked up at the sky and saw that it
was indeed evening. The light of the sun was getting weaker and the sky was
losing its colour. Somewhere, wherever they nested, stalkers would begin to
stir, ready to prowl in the night-time and look for their kill.</p><p>�Where are we?� I said.</p><p>�Edness,� said David, a pointed to a
large sign in front of me that said �EDNESS� in capitals.</p><p>I walked over to them and looked in the
bonnet. Everything seemed okay. �Why�ve we stopped?�</p><p>�No juice,� said David.</p><p>I sighed. This was the last thing we
needed, to be stuck in the middle of a village when night was coming. Even
though there didn�t seem to be any infected nearby, this was a human habitat
and that meant a good chance there would be stalkers in the area.</p><p>�What do we do?� said Justin. He put his
hands in his pockets.</p><p>I looked around me. There weren�t any
petrol stations nearby, that was for sure. We were only twenty-odd miles away
from the farm so we didn�t need much fuel, just enough to last that short
journey. It�s not like we needed anything for a return trip; for me, there was
no return. This was it.</p><p>Across the road and parked near a shop,
there was a white transit van. I nodded over to it. �Think you could siphon
some from there? We only need a little.�</p><p>David put his hand to his chin and
looked at the van. �Could do. Worth a try.�</p><p>I nodded. �Good. Take the kid with you,
show him how to do it.�</p><p>While I watched David show Justin how to
siphon fuel from the van, I leant against the car and smiled. I hated to admit
it, but part of me was starting to like having them around. Sure they annoyed
the hell out of me sometimes, but it was occasionally nice to have the company.</p><p>I wondered if I would still be able to
dump them off, when it came to it.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later David poured the
petrol into the car, closed the cap and gave the roof a tap. I sat in the driver�s
seat.</p><p>�Start her up,� he said.</p><p>I twisted the key. The car coughed, but
the engine didn�t roar. I twisted it again. It sounded like the spluttering
sounds of a dying man.</p><p>�What now?� I said.</p><p>David shook his head. �Must have been
the crash. I thought it would make it to the farm before it died. I was wrong.�</p><p>I thumped the steering wheel with my
hand. This was all my fault, I knew. If I�d just kept my eyes open and not
crashed into a wall, we�d be fine.</p><p>I got out of the car and looked up at
the sky. The sun was gone now, and we only had a couple of hours before the sky
turned completely black and the stalkers came. I looked over at the Babe and
Sickle pub. Should we shelter in there? We could have a pint and wait for all
this to blow over.</p><p>�Guys,� said Justin.</p><p>I span round and looked at him. His arm
was outstretched and pointing at a turn in the road less than fifty metres
away.</p><p>�Oh shit,� I said, and felt my blood run
cold.</p><p>Walking down the road was a sea of
infected. There were more than I had ever seen in my life, an endless
procession of rotting faces.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
16</strong></p><p>I saw the sheer number of them, and my
mouth fell open. There were at least a hundred dead faces, some with their lips
torn off, eyes missing, arms cut in half, entrails hanging loose. Some stumbled
into one another and fell to the floor, only to be trampled on by those behind
them. There were so many that it was like a travelling battalion marching to
war, except this army had no purpose or aim.</p><p>I looked at David. He was leant so far back
against the car that it was like he was trying to melt into it. His hands
clutched for the door handle behind him, as though he didn�t dare turn round to
find it in case one of the infected pounced.</p><p>We needed to escape or fight, those were
our only choices. The car was dead, so that was out of the question, and I
didn�t want to be walking on the road on foot during the night. There were
other things to worry about apart from the infected.</p><p>Fighting them would be foolish. I could
take three of them, at a push, Justin could handle one and David was only good
for standing there in shock. That left a hundred of them still left to fight.</p><p>Above us a sheet of black had covered
the sky and blotted out the light so that not even the stars were shining.</p><p>I took a step forward, grabbed the
handle and opened the car door. I shoved David�s shoulders down so that he
didn�t bang his head and pushed him into the car. Justin followed suit and
opened the passenger door, got inside and shut it as quietly as he could.</p><p>I looked at the infected getting closer,
their numbers large enough to trample anything in their path, and something
inside me wanted to shout out. I felt a cold panic in my chest, and my skin was
tingling. I had never seen this many in my life.</p><p>�Kyle, get in,� said Justin.</p><p>I opened the driver door, sat down and
tried to get my breath back.</p><p>�Now what?� asked Justin.</p><p>From the back of the car, David spoke.
�Seen this lot before. They�re like a shoal of fish, they wander around and any
infected they see get swept up. When I saw them there was half this many.�</p><p>�How do you know they�re the same ones?�
I said.</p><p>�Recognise some of them.�</p><p>The infected got closer, so that now
they were ten metres away from the car. It was clear that they were going to
walk in our direction. I gripped the sides of my seat and sucked in the insides
of my cheeks.</p><p>�What can we do?� I said.</p><p>David looked at my eyes in the rear view
mirror. �Just wait it out.�</p><p>I shook my head. �No fucking way I�m
just sitting here with a hundred of them close enough to spit on.�</p><p>He leaned forward a little. His voice
was a whisper. �Nothing else you can do. You can�t run. You can�t fight. You
have to trust me. Just wait it out.�</p><p>I leant my head back and banged it
against my seat. Yet again I was put in a position where I had to go by someone
else�s word. I never wanted any of this; I was just fine on my own. Well, not fine,
but I survived.</p><p>�It was the end of the frigging world
and it was <emphasis>still</emphasis> impossible to avoid people.</p><p>I sighed. �Not much of a choice.�</p><p>The infected stumbled past us. It was
clear now that there was way more than a hundred of them; it was possible we
were even looking at a thousand. How had they all collected together? Was it a
conscious decision to group up, or did they just go with the flow?</p><p>As they walked down the road some of
them brushed against the car. A rotten smell drifted in and clogged up my
nostrils, and I realised the driver window was still open. As quietly as I
could, I wound it up. The infected let out an orchestra of moans as they passed
us.</p><p>�It�s going to take an hour by the looks
of it,� I said.</p><p>I remember once Clara and I were driving
home from the Lake District when� we got stopped in the road by a herd of
roving cows. The farmer leading them apologised, but we were stuck in the road
for half an hour waiting for them to pass. I remembered being pissed off at the
time, but looking back I didn�t realise how lucky I was. After all, cows
couldn�t eat you.</p><p>Justin leaned his head back and spoke to
David. �What do you call a group of infected? Is it a pride?�</p><p>�Probably a herd,� said David.</p><p>�More like a murder,� I said.</p><p>David frowned. �That�s crows.�</p><p>�Still fits.�</p><p>�A parliament of infected,� said Justin,
and laughed.</p><p>�What are you talking about?� I said.</p><p>Justin smiled. �A group of owls is
called a �parliament�. I think it fits the infected, too.�</p><p>Soon David caught on and let out a
chuckle, and even I found it hard not to smile.</p><p>I felt my calf muscles start to cramp a
little, so I stuck my leg forward and stretched out the muscle. I looked to the
trees in the distance and wondered if any owls were nesting in there, whether
there were even any owls still living. I guessed that most of them would have
been killed by stalkers.</p><p>The night wore on and the infected
carried on shuffling past. We were about halfway through now, and it gave me
the feeling of being in the eye of a tornado. I felt my stomach sink. Next to
me, Justin was asleep. I looked at him and blinked, marvelling at how the kid
had managed to sleep with hundreds of infected just feet away.</p><p>David cleared his throat, and leant
forward.</p><p>�Kyle.�</p><p>I turned round. �Yeah?�</p><p>He paused for a second, as though he
were trying to compose his words.</p><p>�I still need to know why.�</p><p>I let out a long sigh. I knew what he
was asking me; he wanted to know why I had left him after Clara died. For years
I tried to bury the memories of that night � of our group being attacked,
people being ripped apart, turning round and seeing one of the infected�
tearing flesh from Clara�s arm. I gritted my teeth and tried to push the images
back.</p><p>�What does it matter now?� I said.</p><p>David hung his head. �You know me, Kyle.
Better than anyone. Like a brother.�</p><p>I nodded.</p><p>�So I need to know why you abandoned me.
We were the only survivors. I needed you, and you left me to die alone.�</p><p>Outside the sky looked bloated with
darkness, as though any second it was going to vomit it out on top of us. The
faint moans of the infected floated into the car.</p><p>�I�d just lost my wife. No, not lost. I�d
<emphasis>let</emphasis> them kill her - I couldn�t protect her. And when it was all done,
and it was just me and you, I couldn�t even look at you. � I put my hands on
the steering wheel and gripped it. �I failed her, David. I failed everyone.�</p><p>For a while the only sounds were the scuffling
of the feet of the infected. �I sat and took in deep breaths. I could feel
tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I�d never spoken about this before.
I�d barely even allowed myself to think about it.</p><p>David leaned forward and pout a hand on
my shoulder. �It wasn�t your fault,� he said.</p><p>I let the words sink in. I could feel my
whole body start to shake, and emotion overtook me. I felt it run through my
arms and legs, like adrenaline but thicker and heavier. I blinked and put a
hand to my eyes, wiping away the moisture.</p><p>I turned round and looked at David. Although
they were brother and sister, he looked absolutely nothing like Clara.</p><p>�I�m sorry, David,� I said. �After it
happened, I couldn�t face anyone. I didn�t trust myself to protect anyone
again, because I knew that I�d only let them down and lose them.�</p><p>He nodded and squeezed my shoulder.</p><p>A weariness overtook my body and I felt
the energy seep out of my arms and legs. I felt my eyelids start to drop. Then
I took one look at the infected outside and I forced my eyes open. Now wasn�t
the time for sleep.</p><p>�Go ahead,� said David. �Get some sleep.
I�ll keep watch tonight.�</p><p>I shut my eyes, but I couldn�t let
myself sleep.</p><p>***</p><p>Five hours later I watched the sun rise
to the east of us, in the direction of the farm. We were only twenty-five miles
away now, which was walkable in a day or so. As long as we avoided the
parliament of infected, we would be okay.</p><p>I reached across and shook Justin�s shoulder.
He groaned, lifted his head and rubbed his eyes.</p><p>�Jesus, what time is it?� he said.</p><p>�Time to go.�</p><p>I looked behind me. David was awake and
picking at a loose thread on his coat. I stretched my arms and legs, feeling my
joints crack and my muscles expand. I took a deep breath and tried to fill my
lungs with air, but I spluttered.</p><p>�So stuffy in here,� I said. �It
stinks.�</p><p>I grabbed the window handle and twisted
it, and the glass wound down. As the cold morning air blew into the car,
something else also drifted in.</p><p>It was the sound of an engine. I looked
in the rear view mirror and saw the vehicle getting closer.</p><p>�Shit,� I said.</p><p>It was a pick-up truck, and it was
driving down the road toward us. Torben Tusk was behind the wheel.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
17</strong></p><p>I slid down in my seat as much as I
could and left only the top of my head on show. Behind me on the back seat,
David was curled up and his eyes were shut. Next to me, Justin was asleep in
the passenger seat. Too much of him was on show, and if Torben glanced at the
car as he drove past he was sure to see him.</p><p>I tapped Justin on the shoulder, but he
didn�t stir. A bubble of spit blew from the corner of his mouth and popped. I
gave him a hove, and this time his eyelids flickered and then opened.</p><p>He looked at me, blinked, and then went
to say something. I reached across and put my hand over his mouth.</p><p>�Don�t move, don�t speak. Trust me.�</p><p>When he nodded, I slid my hand slowly
away from him. I moved back down my seat and beckoned Justin to do the same in
his. He moved his body down the seat, finding a lot easier than I did. Now we
just had to hope that David didn�t decide to wake up.</p><p>The truck got closer and soon it was
driving next to us. Through some instinct I breathed in and held my breath as
it passed, as though breathing might somehow give away our position. The truck
rumbled past and stopped outside the Babe and Sickle. Torben got out followed
by his friend who, last time we saw him in the pick-up, was the driver. Now I
could see why he wasn�t anymore; he had a make-shift sling around his right arm,
and part of it was smeared red.</p><p>The pub was only twenty feet away and it
was a calm day, so we could hear the hunters talk. I reached for the handle and
slowly wound down the window.</p><p>�Pass me the tracker,� said Torben. His
voice sounded rougher than normal, his tone more clipped.</p><p>The driver reached over to the truck,
picked something up and passed it to Torben. �What�d ya think they�re doing out
here?� he asked.</p><p>Torben twisted the device in his hands,
pressed something and then stared at it.</p><p>When I got a good look it at, I felt
something sharp twist through my chest. That was my GPRS! Torben Tusk was
holding my GPRS, and it seemed like it was working. I snapped my head to Justin
to see if he was watching this. His wide eyes and furrowed brow confirmed that
he was. I was dying to saying something, but now wasn�t the time.</p><p>I felt my forehead begin to sweat. My
hands shook, and my face felt like it was heating up. There was no way this was
a coincidence, no way that Torben had got his hands on <emphasis>another</emphasis> GPRS and
just happened to be going in the same direction as us. There was only one
explanation for this.</p><p>He�d gotten my GPRS to work, and he knew
where the farm was.</p><p>I took a second to calculate our odds.
From what I had seen there were a minimum of four hunters � minus the one I saw
get eaten in the warehouse � with the probability of there being at least a few
more that I hadn�t see yet. I knew they had at least two guns, double what we
had, and they actually knew how to use them. That put us at a pretty big
disadvantage.</p><p>There was nothing I could do right now
other than listen and hope to get some idea of their plan.</p><p>�This fucking thing,� said Torben.
�Never works properly. Thought you fixed it?�</p><p>The driver screwed up his face. �Got us
here, didn�t it?�</p><p>Torben held the GPRS in one hand and
picked at his teeth with the other. �Should have just snatched the kid,� he
said. He tossed the GPRS back to the driver. �Anyway, get in there and see what
they got. If you see any bottles of stout, grab me a couple,� he said, and
pointed at the Babe and Sickle.</p><p>While the driver searched the pub Torben
rested on the bonnet of the pick-up. From time to time he�d glance back in our
direction, making me sink lower in my seat, but mostly he stared at the road
ahead in contemplation.</p><p>After ten minutes the driver came back
out. They got in the pick-up truck, revved the engine and then left.</p><p>As soon as they were out of sight, I
turned to Justin. I poked him in the chest, jabbing my finger so hard it made
him wince. I could feel my head get tight, and most lips curled.</p><p>�I thought you said it was broken? Huh?
That nobody would be able to use it? That�s the only reason I didn�t beat the
crap out of you when Torben took our stuff � because you promised me he
wouldn�t be able to work it.�</p><p>Justin chewed his lip and furrowed his
brow. �I�m sorry Kyle, I didn�t know. Really � I thought it was trashed.�</p><p>�Damn it� I said. I pounded the steering
wheel, and the horn went off.</p><p>Behind me David jumped awake. He rubbed
his head. �What�s going on?�</p><p>�We�re fucked, that�s what�s going on,�
I spat.</p><p>I opened the car door and got out,
slamming it behind me. I didn�t care who heard us now. I walked to the boot,
opened our bag of supplies. I tipped most of it back into the boot and left a
fifth still in the bottom of the rucksack, which I� slung over my shoulder.
Next to all the food was the shotgun. I thought about taking it, but then I put
my hand on my belt and rested on the handle of my knife.</p><p>That would be enough. They needed to gun
more than me, and I wasn�t a total monster.</p><p>The passenger door and opened and Justin
got out. He walked over to me and looked at the food scattered across the boot
of the car.</p><p>�What are you doing?�</p><p>I could feel my blood running red hot
through my veins. Right now Justin�s face annoyed me too much. Did he realise
what he�d done? Did he understand that ever since he stuck his nose into my
business, things had turned to shit?</p><p>I reached forward and shoved him in the
chest, sending him down onto the floor.</p><p>�They know where the farm is, and
they�re headed there right now. It�s all fucked Justin, and that�s on you.�</p><p>Justin sat up and drew his knees closer
to his chest. There was a scared look to his eyes, as though he didn�t know
what I was going to do next. I knew that for a second he was thinking about
arguing with me, but then he decided better of it. �Look, Kyle, what can I say?
I�m sorry.�</p><p>The back door of the car opened and
David stretched a long leg out. �What�s happening?�</p><p>I slammed the boot of the car shut and
looked at him. �I�m leaving,� I said. �You two can go to hell.�</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
18</strong></p><p>I walked away from the car. My face was
burning and my blood was boiling in my veins. My mind was so clouded by a fog
of anger that I didn�t even look where I was going; as long as I got away, that
was all that mattered.</p><p>I put my foot on a stone wall and hopped
over into the field. The earth was sodden and my foot was covered in mud before
I�d even walked five steps. Behind me, I heard the car door open. I took a deep
breath and picked up my pace. I wasn�t turning back this time. I wasn�t
forgiving another one of Justin's mistakes. He�d screwed me over from the start,
and now the only thing I had to cling on to was gone. The farm belonged to the
hunters now.</p><p>�Kyle�</p><p>I heard David�s voice behind me, and I
heard him grunt as he climbed over the wall.</p><p>�Shit!�</p><p>I turned round. David had slipped in the
mud and he was flat on his back in the field, his coat covered in the brown
mess.� He seemed to be waiting for me to come and help him up, but instead I turned
and carried on walking.</p><p>A few minutes later he caught up with
me. He put a muddy hand on my shoulder. I stopped and turned to him.</p><p>�Fuck off, David,� I said.</p><p>David scratched the back of his neck.
There was something weighing on his mind, but as usual he was struggling to get
the words out.</p><p>I put my hands in my pockets. �Just save
it. There�s nothing you can say. The farm is theirs now. It�s all pointless.�</p><p>Finally the words came to him. �It�s not
pointless. Not at all. You were right. The farm�s the answer; dad knew it,
Clara knew it � I know it.�</p><p>His words were coming fast. He stared at
me with narrowed eyes that were like brown marbles.</p><p>I looked across the field in front of
me. It seemed to stretch for miles and connected into other fields in an endless
bed of green and brown. I tried to see what was beyond it, whether there was
anything worth looking for, but there was nothing in the distance to cling on
to.</p><p>I looked at the floor. �Even if you�re right,
the farm�s out of the question now. Torben has it, and there�s no way I can take
on him and his guys alone.�</p><p>David sighed. �You�re not alone.� You
never were. You�ve always had people with you Kyle, �you�ve always been a
leader. But for some pig-headed reason you choose not to act like it.�</p><p>I looked at him and saw the sincerity on
his face. �A leader wouldn�t watch as many people die as I have,� I said.</p><p>�You can�t do this alone,� said David.</p><p>The wind blew through the grass, sending
the long stalks dancing in different directions. For miles on the horizon the
fields all blew in unison. They were all overgrown and muddy, same as the farm
would be, but with enough time and hard work something could be made out of
them.</p><p>With the farm in the hands of the
hunters, I felt empty inside, like someone had opened my chest and scooped everything
out. I�d clung onto the idea of getting there for so long, that it was all I
had.</p><p>Maybe David was right. Maybe we
shouldn�t give it up. Perhaps it was time to fight.</p><p>I looked at him again. This time I felt
something welling up in me, some kind of resolve. But there were something I
had to say, things I had to get out of the way.</p><p>�I can�t watch someone else die,� I
said.</p><p>�Everyone�s got to.�</p><p>I nodded. �But you and Justin � I don�t
want to see that happen on my account.�</p><p>David screwed up his nose. He wiped his
boot along the grass and let the mud slide of it.</p><p>�Sometimes you have to throw the dice,�
he said.</p><p>He was right. For all this time, all
these years of travelling alone, it wasn�t other people that I�d avoided. I had
been running away from fear. I was scared that if I let my guard down and allowed
people inside it, then sooner or later I was going to have to watch them die.
I�d thought that being alone was better than risking losing someone, but I was
wrong.</p><p>A man couldn�t live alone, especially
not in a world like this. Man was on the ropes and the world was delivering the
knockout blows. Unless someone did something, unless we stuck together, we were
going to hit the floor.</p><p>I took my hands out of my pockets and
turned back toward the car.</p><p>I noticed that the passenger door was
open, but there was no sign of Justin. I looked around, but couldn�t see
anything, and he certainly hadn�t followed us onto the field. So where was he?</p><p>***</p><p>When we got to the car it was empty. The
passenger door was open, and on the floor beside it there were blobs of blood.�
I looked around us but I couldn't see Justin anywhere, nor could I see any
infected. Besides, if an infected had got him, they would have started eating
him there and then. They didn�t drag away their kill to eat it later.</p><p>David walked round to the boot and
popped it open.</p><p>�It�s gone.�</p><p>I shut the passenger door and walked
around. I saw what he meant; the boot, where I�d left all the supplies, was now
empty. Who had done it, and why hadn�t we seen them?</p><p>�How did things get screwed up for us at
every turn?</p><p>I slammed the boot shut so quickly that
David had to yank back his hand so that it didn�t get caught. He turned round
and lent on the car.</p><p>�Who could have ��</p><p>�The hunters,� I said.</p><p>I had been stupid to think that the
hunters would drive so close to us and not see anything. Torben was a hunter,
so he certainly wasn�t oblivious to the clues and trails that people left
behind. I guessed that their stop at the Babe and Sickle probably wasn�t about
checking it for supplies. It was more likely that they stopped because they
wanted me to know that they had the GPRS and were headed to the farm. Torben
was laying a trap for me.</p><p>I snapped my head toward David. He had a
faraway look in his eyes. �They�ve taken Justin, and they want us to come find
him.� I said.</p><p>�So what do we do?� he asked.</p><p>The old me would have taken what
supplies I could, turned round and walked in the opposite direction. But I knew
what the hunters were and what they were capable of, and I couldn�t just
abandon Justin to that. Whatever the risk, no matter the cost, I was going to
have to try and do something.</p><p>I was going to be running into a death
trap, but it was better to sprint into a quick death than walk into a lingering
one.</p><p>�I can�t ask you to come,� I said.</p><p>David nodded solemnly.</p><p>I opened the car door and looked around
for what supplies I could find. I looked under the passenger seat and let out a
gasp. Tucked underneath, was our shotgun. �Justin must have hidden it before
the hunters had grabbed him. I took it out and showed David.</p><p>�Clever kid,� he said.</p><p>I nodded.</p><p>�I�m coming with you,� said David.</p><p>�You sure?�</p><p>He nodded his head. �You have to be able
to depend on people.�</p><p>I slammed the car door, took a deep
breath and looked to the east, where the farm was waiting. I could already feel
the adrenaline flowing inside me. This was it.</p><p>I looked up. Above us, a mean-looking
black cloud loomed.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
19</strong></p><p>We ducked down into a ditch so that we
had a wide view of the farm but couldn�t be seen by the hunters. I counted six hunters
patrolling the farmland, and past the fields there was a farmhouse where there
would probably be even more of them inside. Outside the house there was a large
tank with �petrol� written in red letters, no doubt used in better days to
supply the tractors with fuel.</p><p>The farm wore the scars of fifteen years
of neglect. The fields were choked with weeds, a lot of the fences had blown
over and water poured into the farmhouse roof through the gaps left by missing
slates. The place had gone to hell, but I still saw some potential in it. If you
looked past the weeds and the mess, the heart of the farm was still there and
it could be turned into something good.</p><p>Some of the hunters walked up and down
the fields, stopping occasionally to stub a cigarette under their boots or talk
with another hunter as they walked past. Across the fields and under two
branching elm trees there were two tractors, their paintwork flecked with rust.</p><p>Next to me, David was quiet. �Wishing
you hadn�t come?� I said.</p><p>He shook his head. �Wishing we had a
lorry or something. We could just ram into them.�</p><p>�If we�re going to wish, then let�s go
big. A tank would be pretty handy right now.�</p><p>David smiled for a second, but the
gesture soon dropped from his face. �We�re going to have to fight, and I�m
gonna hold you back,� he said.</p><p>I looked at him. His body was wiry and his
pants were held up by the last rung on his belt. His eyes were small, his hair
receding. His hands were curled into fists, bony and white at the knuckles. I
tried to think of something to tell him, something I could say to reassure him,
but the fact was that he was right. He wasn�t a fighter.</p><p>I picked up the shotgun and passed it to
him.</p><p>He waved his hands. �No Kyle, you have
it.�</p><p>I pulled out my knife from my belt. �I
know how to use this,� I said. �You�re more use to both of us if you�re armed.�</p><p>He nodded, took the gun from me and then
laid it down next to him. He pointed out across the field, toward the tractors,
and whispered. �Suppose we steal a tractor. Smash into the farmhouse. They
won�t know what�s happening.�</p><p>A distraction would be good, I knew, but
it was risk. �You think they�ll still be working?�</p><p>David shrugged his shoulders. �Maybe,
Maybe not. Probably not, really. But we won�t be worse off for checking.�</p><p>We snuck over to the tractors. Along the
way, we got within a few feet of two hunters as they stopped for a chat. Their eyes
looked dark and their skin was pale. I guessed that lately the world had been
as harsh to them as it had been to us. Their voices were hushed.</p><p>�He�s got a thing for the lad,� said one
of them, and took a long drag on his cigarette. The wind whipped at his coat
and made the material flap.</p><p>The other hunter screwed up his face.
His long fringe blew across his forehead. �Nah, he�s using him for bait. He�s
obsessed with catching the other fella.�</p><p>�So he don�t really want the lad to join
us?�</p><p>The other one shook his head. �Once we
catch the bloke, Torben�s gonna gut the boy.�</p><p>I shuddered at the idea of what Torben
had in mind for us all. I knew they were hunters, and that Torben loved his
trophies, but were they also cannibals? From their tired eyes and their sunken
cheeks, I guessed the hunters weren�t getting their five fruit and veg a day.
Hunters tended to eat what they killed, and there was no reason for these guys
to be any different.</p><p>We moved slowly around the sides of the
farm and to the tractors. One of them was so rusty that the body was practically
orange, and it looked like if I tapped it the whole thing would fall apart.
Next to it was a newer one that looked slightly more stable, though I didn�t
know if it would start.</p><p>�I never found a car that worked, � I
said. �That�s why we had to come to you. So I doubt we�ll have much luck here.�</p><p>David held his hand to his chin. I knew
he was scared of the hunters and the potential of fighting but right now, stood
in front of this machine, he was going into engineer mode.</p><p>�Hang on,� he said.</p><p>He walked to the side of the tractor. The
vehicle was fifteen feet tall and the wheels were large enough to crush a man. David
put his foot on a step on the side of it and reached up and grabbed the handle
of the driver door. The door opened, and something large spilled out from the
seat. David screamed.</p><p>He crashed to the floor and landed on
his back with a thud, followed shortly after by an infected. David�s face went
white and his usually-small eyes widened. The infected struggled on top of him,
trying to get a grip on his limbs.</p><p>It all happened so quickly that I
struggled to process it. My veins ran cold and my breath caught in my chest. I
grabbed my knife and moved toward them as quick as I could, but I was already
too late.</p><p>David pushed the infected off him. He
turned his body round, held up the shotgun and pulled the trigger. The gun
exploded with a booming sound that broke the stillness of the farm. To our left
a bird flew from a tree, and even the wind died down, as though it were
surprised to hear the noise.</p><p>The infected�s head sprayed across the
floor in so many pieces that even if I had been a genius at jigsaws, I wouldn�t
have been able to piece it back together. I wondered who the infected had been,
and why it was sat in the tractor. I looked at David.</p><p>�Was that your � �</p><p>He shook his head. �Wasn�t dad.�</p><p>I scratched the back of my neck. �You
okay?� I said.</p><p>David was quiet for a few seconds. Then,
he stuck his arm out toward me. His cost was ripped down to the skin, and there
were grooves in his flesh from where the infected�s teeth had punctured him.
Blood started to ooze out of them and drip away.</p><p>He was bitten.</p><p>Before I even had time to process what
this meant, I heard a voice next to me.</p><p>�Torben�s been looking for you,� said
the hunter with the long fringe. Next to him were two other men, and one of
them pointed a rifle at my chest.</p><p>�Drop the knife,� he said.</p><p>I weighed up my odds, and I came up
short. I dropped my knife to the floor.</p><empty-line/></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
20</strong></p><p>The farmhouse was dirty and there was a
mouldy smell that seemed to be coming from the walls. Cracked wooden beams ran
along the ceiling to support it, though in some places the roof bulged slightly
as though it would cave in any second. There was a dining table in the far side
of the room, and a tattered couch that looked like it had been salvaged from a
rubbish tip. On a dresser next to a wall, there was a solitary photo frame, and
in it was a little girl with auburn hair and a wide grin. I knew that girl, or
I knew the woman she had grown up to be. It was Clara.</p><p>I moved my arms and struggled at the
rough ropes that tied me to the chair. They were wrapped so tight around my
wrists that it felt like they were cutting off my circulation.</p><p>I looked up at the photo again. Clara
had never shown me photos of her as a kid before, and it was almost like her
childhood had never existed. Yet here was something; a memento her dad had
saved and given a prominent place in his house, despite the fact he hadn�t seen
his daughter in decades.</p><p>Torben followed my gaze to the photo. He
walked over, picked it up and studied it. Seeing him with his hands on a photo
of Clara made me clench my fists, but I said nothing. Instead, I looked to the
door.</p><p>�Can�t we bring him in?� I said.</p><p>When they had escorted me into the
farmhouse they had left David outside on the porch.</p><p>Torben put the photo face down on the
dresser, walked over to the dining table and pulled out a chair. He sat in it
and faced me. Despite how pale and tired his men looked, Torben�s face glowed
red by contrast. There was no doubt that he was getting enough to eat.</p><p>�Your friend is bitten,� said Torben.
�And soon he�s gonna turn. Or he would, if I wasn�t here.�</p><p>�What do you mean?�</p><p>He looked around him. �We�re on a farm.
What do farmers do with sick animals?� he said.</p><p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p><p>�They take them in the barn and shoot
them.�</p><p>I looked out toward the porch, but I
couldn�t see David. I knew he was hurt, and I knew he�d be scared. I didn�t
want to admit it, but deep down I knew that Torben was right. David was
infected now, and soon he was going to die. I pushed the thought down as far as
I could.</p><p>Across from us and through a door, I
could hear footsteps walking down the stairs. They got closer and then the door
opened, and Justin walked into the room. His clothes were tattered and his nose
looked bloody around the nostrils, but otherwise he seemed fine. He saw me,
stopped, and his eyes grew large. Torben stood up, walked over to him and
ruffled his hair.</p><p>�Here�s my lad.� He said, and give him a
punch on his arm. Justin looked away. Torben smiled at me. �Kyle, I�d like you
to meet our latest recruit.�</p><p>I shook my head. Did he mean that Justin
had joined the hunters? The way I saw it, he had been kidnapped, and there was
no way he�d ally himself with them.</p><p>�Looks more like a prisoner than a
recruit,� I said.</p><p>Torben walked back to the chair and took
a seat. He nodded at Justin and beckoned him to do the same. �I gave him a
choice,� he said. �Join us, or die. It looks like his survival instinct kicked
in.�</p><p>�He�d never join you,� I said, feeling a
lump in the back of my throat.</p><p>Torben closed his eyes and shook his
head. �You make it sound like we�re monsters. All we�re doing is surviving,
just like you. We�re a pack. We trust each other with our lives.�</p><p>I scrunched up my face. I couldn�t shake
the feeling of disgust. �There�s something rotten at the core of your �pack�. �</p><p>Torben stood up and perched against the
dining table. Through his open jacket I could see a revolver in a holster. I
recognised the gun � it was mine, the one I�d kept in the rucksack that Torben
had stolen.</p><p>�It�s not man versus man anymore, Kyle.
There are no cliques, no armies. Its man versus infected.�</p><p>�So why hunt people?�</p><p>�Some men just don�t belong in a pack�
he said, and stared at me. Then he turned to Justin. �But others fit right in.�</p><p>I struggled against the ropes on my wrist,
but I barely had a centimetre to move. My skin burnt from rubbing against the rough
material.</p><p>Torben reached into the holster and took
out the revolver. He opened the chamber and checked the bullets, and from my
chair I could see gold circles filling two of the holes. The other four were
empty. Torben span the chamber round to line up the bullets and then closed it
with a snap.</p><p>My breath caught in my lungs now, and my
chest felt tight. The bullets had only one purpose; I knew it, and Torben knew
it. I was tied to the chair so tight that there was no way I was going to move.
I looked over at Justin and tried to get a sense of what he was thinking. Had
he really joined them, or was he just playing along? Maybe he had weighed up
his options and come to the conclusion that sticking with the hunters was the
only way to stay alive.</p><p>Torben walked over to me and stopped
just inches away. He reached forward with the revolver and pressed it into my
forehead. I felt the cold metal dig into my head, and Torben pressed it harder
so that it broke the skin. It was like he was trying to push it all the way
through my skull and into my brain. The metal pressing against my head stung,
but I wasn�t going to show him that. I took a deep breath and held it in.</p><p>�The farm�s ours, and so are you. You
lost.�</p><p>I opened my mouth and spat at him.
Torben took a step back and wiped his khakis with his hand. He turned, put the
gun on the table and slid it over to Justin. The boy looked up in surprise.</p><p>�Pick it up,� said Torben.</p><p>Justin looked at the gun and then at
Torben. I could tell what he was thinking; he was wondering if he should pick
it up and fire it in Torben�s face. At least, that�s what I hoped he was
thinking. Then again, there were six hunters outside who would come running in
the minute they heard a shot. Whether Justin was on my side or not, we were
still outnumbered.</p><p>Torben nodded at Justin. �It�s okay,� he
said. �You can do it.� His voice was soft. He pointed over at me. �This guy
doesn�t give a crap about you, but you�re one of us now.�</p><p>Justin�s picked up the gun, but his
hands were shaking.</p><p>Torben stood up and put an arm around
his shoulder. �Every man has to die, Justin. At least you won�t have to do it
alone.�</p><p>Justin raised the gun at me. His pupils
were so big that it seemed like his eyes were completely black. His arms were
trembling, and his cheeks were white. He pointed the gun at my head. I looked
deep into his eyes and tried to guess what he was thinking. Despite him aiming
the gun at me, I knew that there was no way he would do it. There was no chance
that Justin could shoot me.</p><p>There was a yell outside, and the
farmhouse door burst open.� A worried-looking hunter ran in.</p><p>�They�re here, Torben. There�s hundreds
of them!�</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
21</strong></p><p>Torben walked over to the door slowly,
as though he were in no hurry. He opened it and went outside. The hunter trailed
after him. As soon as Torben left the room, Justin walked over to me. He pulled
a knife from his belt and sawed at the ropes around my wrists, and as he cut them
away I felt my skin loosen.</p><p>�You okay?� I asked him.</p><p>He nodded. �They�re a bunch of idiots.�</p><p>Torben and the hunter walked back into
the room. Justin straightened up and backed away from me, hiding the knife
behind him.</p><p>I grabbed the ropes and held them so
that it looked like I was still tied up.</p><p>Torben looked at me. �He wasn�t kidding,�
he said, his voice controlled. �Never seen so many before.�</p><p>I twisted my head to get a look. I could
only see through the square doorway, but across the farm and over the fields I
spotted them; there was a sea of infected headed in our direction. Was it the
same ones we had seen in Edness? If it was, then there were thousands of them,
and none of us stood a chance.</p><p>Torben turned and looked at me. His face
was void of emotion, a stark contrast to the hunter next to him who looked terrified.</p><p>�This is what happens when you fire a
shotgun out in the open,� he said.</p><p>I thought about David outside. I wondered
how he was doing, how hurt he was. The bite hadn�t been bad, but I knew enough
about the infection to realise that eventually, whether it be in hours or days,
the bite was going to kill him. And when it did, he wouldn�t stay dead for
long. I felt something welling up inside me, but now wasn�t the time for that.
I couldn�t afford to feel anything now.</p><p>Torben looked over at Justin. �Come on,
boy, time to earn your place.�</p><p>�What?� said Justin.</p><p>Torben pointed at the door. �We didn�t
drive all the way here just to give it up. Come out and fight.�</p><p>He strode outside. Justin looked over at
me, and I nodded. He walked after Torben and out of the door.</p><p>When the room was empty I let the ropes
fall off me and stood up. My legs ached and my skin around my wrists was raw. I
had a pain in my lower back, and my neck was stiff. I looked around me for my belt
and knife, but I couldn�t see what Torben had done with them.</p><p>I walked over to the dining table,
pulled out a chair and tipped it on its side. I need some sort of weapon if I was
going outside. I didn�t know what my plan was yet, but going out there unarmed
would be crazy. Any weapon would do, any blunt instrument; it just had to be
solid enough to smash through bone. I lifted my foot and brought it down on the
chair leg, snapping it from the base. I picked up the block of wood and twisted
it in my hands.</p><p>Outside the sky was black. The first
wave of the infected had reached the farm and their faces were illuminated by
the dim glow of the lamps on the porch and the flashes of the hunter's guns as
they fired at them. The sound of the gunshots made me flinch, but it didn�t
matter about the volume now. There were already enough infected coming our way,
and drawing in a few more wouldn�t make a difference.</p><p>The hunters and the infected engaged in
battle. The driver held a machete in his hand and swung it at the head of an
infected, splitting into down the middle. Across from him the hunter with the
long fringe held the neck of an infected woman as she struggled to bite him.
With his right hand he lined up a screwdriver and drove it into her eye socket,
splitting her eyeball like an onion.</p><p>A man to my right cried out, and I span around
and saw him fall to the floor. Two infected fell on top of him and didn�t waste
a second in tearing pieces out of his neck and chest, their teeth clacking as
they tore through his skin. One took a big bite of his chest, chewed and pulled
away a long strip of flesh. The man�s screams of agony rose above the
collective cry of the infected, but were quickly silenced as the infected ate
his vocal chords.</p><p>�Kyle!�</p><p>I turned round and saw David with his
back against the porch. His face was drained of colour and he held his bitten
arm tight against his chest. When he saw me look at him, he pointed to my left.
I turned and saw an infected man inches away and lunging right at me.</p><p>I grabbed hold of the man�s hair, held
it tight and then smashed the end of the chair leg against its face. The leg
was so square and blunt that all it accomplished was breaking the skin and
making putrid blood ooze from the infected�s face. I pushed the infected to the
ground. When it was on the floor, I lined my boot with its face and brought it
down as hard as I could. Its head didn�t smash straight away, and it took three
tries before I heard it crack. When I looked down, my boot was covered in dark
red blood and bits of grey flesh.</p><p>I turned, ran over to David and knelt
beside him. He looked at me, and his voice was so quiet that it was hard to
hear him over the battle cries of the hunters and the groans of the infected.</p><p>�You need to go,� he said.</p><p>I put my hand on his shoulder. �<emphasis>We</emphasis>
need to go,� I agreed, and give him a squeeze.</p><p>I heard footsteps run over to us, and then
Justin was next to me. He bent over and took a few shallow breaths. His hands
were covered in blood.</p><p>�You okay?� I said, looking for the
tell-tale marks of a bite.</p><p>�It�s not mine,� he said. He held his
hands up.</p><p>Behind us there was a scream, and I knew
another hunter had been taken by the infected. How many more were left? I
glanced over, but I couldn�t see them all. It didn�t matter; the hunters were
outnumbered twelve to one.</p><p>Justin leaned in to David. Panic spread
across his face. �Shit, David,� he said.</p><p>David nodded. Shit. No other words
needed to be said.</p><p>I looked at Justin. �We need to go, right
now. I don�t care where, we just need to get out of here.�</p><p>Justin swallowed. �Their truck,� he
said, and pointed past the farmhouse. The hunter�s pick-up truck was parked on
the stone driveway that led to the farm.</p><p>I nodded at him. This was as good a plan
as any. Right now we just needed to get as far away from the farm as possible.
What happened after, whatever we were going to do later didn�t matter, now we
just had to escape.</p><p>�What about the keys?� I said.</p><p>�They keep them in the ignition for
quick getaways.�</p><p>I grinned. �Smart.�</p><p>We picked up David and between us we
supported him over to the truck. Behind us the sounds of the gunshots faded as
the hunters ran out of ammo, and I knew that most of them would now be reaching
for their knives. If they had any sense, they would slit their own throats.
There were too many infected swarming in for the hunters to have any chance of
winning.</p><p>We set David down next to the wheel of
the truck. I opened the door, jumped in and reached for the keys. The ignition
was empty.</p><p>My heart began to pound and my chest
flooded with panic. The keys had to be here somewhere. Our luck just couldn�t
be this bad, surely. I looked all around the dashboard and found plenty of
chocolate wrappers, but no car keys.</p><p>I got out. Justin and David looked up at
me, but I shook my head.</p><p>�Shit,� said Justin.</p><p>I knelt down next to David. His face was
so grey that he looked like he should be in a morgue.� I put my hand on his
arm. �Listen, pal. We need to leave, we can�t stay here. Think you can make it
just a little bit further?�</p><p>He looked up at me. His lips were dry
and his eyes were dark. �Just leave me. I�m dying anyway.�</p><p>I couldn�t leave him. I�d already done
that once, and I knew that I was going to have to live with that for the rest
of my life. I couldn�t change the past, but what happened in the present was
still up to me. And I wasn�t abandoning him again.</p><p>I squeezed his arm and started to pull
him up.</p><p>�Nobody�s leaving you. Get up and stop
moaning,� I said.</p><p>Justin and I heaved David to his feet.
For a second he was able to support himself on his own.</p><p>�Thanks, Kyle,� he said, and smiled at
me. �Let�s go.�</p><p>A shadow leapt over the truck, and
quicker than I could react it pounced on David, pinned him to the floor and
tore a chunk out of his neck. Blood sprayed out like mist and covered the
ground. I looked at the creature on top of him, and every nerve in my body
screamed out. I felt my blood freeze, and for a second I couldn�t even move.</p><p>It was a stalker.</p><p>By the time I forced myself to move,
David had stopped breathing. The stalker turned its head toward us, and despite
its disfigurement I swore I could see something of a grin, some sort of human
expression. It stared at me with hatred, and I saw its legs kneel up behind it,
ready to propel it into a pounce.</p><p>I reached for my knife but then realised
I didn�t have it with me. I gulped.</p><p>The stalker twitched and got ready to
jump. Then, something next to me exploded, and half the stalker�s face tore
away. It made a rasping sound and fell back to the floor with a thud. I looked
to my left, and Justin stood with the revolver in his outstretched hand, smoke
drifting from the chamber.</p><p>I looked at David�s lifeless body on the
floor. A huge chunk of his neck was missing, and blood sprayed out from the
torn veins like water seeping out of a broken pipe. I grabbed his hand and felt
his wrist, but his pulse had stropped. I had failed him, I knew. I had brought
him into this, and I had let him die.</p><p>�We need to leave,� said Justin.</p><p>I nodded and stood up. It was time for
us to go. The farm was lost, but at least we could escape with our lives.</p><p>�Here,� he said, and passed me my
revolver. The barrel was hot to the touch. I slipped the gun into my pocket.</p><p>We started to walk down the driveway and
away from the farm, when I heard the stones crunch behind me.</p><p>�Where are you going?� said a voice.</p><p>I turned round and Torben was stood in
front of me with his rifle raised. He pointed it at me and pulled the trigger,
and I felt the bullet tear a hole in my leg.</p></section><section><empty-line/><empty-line/><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter
22</strong></p><p>I clutched my leg. The hole burnt from where
the bullet had pierced it, and I felt like shouting out with the pain. I looked
up at Torben. I wasn�t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me like
that.</p><p>Torben�s face looked weary, his hair was
messed up and his jacket was smeared with blood. There was a dark look behind
his eyes, the look of a man who had stared too long into the abyss and had
finally been broken by it. His jacket sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and
there were long red scratches across his arms.</p><p>Justin twitched, and I could see he
wanted to do something. I looked at him. �Don�t get yourself killed,� I said.</p><p>Torben took a few steps closer. �That�s
what we�re all doing though, isn�t it? Getting ourselves killed.� He lifted his
hand to his face and wiped the sweat off his forehead.</p><p>�I�ve been thinking a lot about our
differences,� he said, �And you know, I come up blank. My thinking is, me and
you are pretty much the same.�</p><p>I clutched my leg and felt it throb.
�I�m nothing like you,� I choked out.</p><p>H knelt down so that our heads were
level. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and had lost some of its usual
roughness. �I�ve always felt alone. Even when there were twenty people in my
group, I still felt like it was just me and a bunch of shadows.�</p><p>He looked at the ground. I thought back
to the warehouse and the conversation I had heard, about how Torben was looking
for his wife and boy who I assumed had� run away. I knew the pain of losing
someone, but it wasn�t the pain that defined you. It was what you did after it.</p><p>What we had both done spoke volumes
about us. I wasn�t proud of abandoning David and going my own way, but at least
I�d never gone down as dark a path as Torben.</p><p>The hunter propped his gun next to him.
�You were right to be alone. On your own, you�re safe. Where men gather, death
hovers.�</p><p>Once I would have believed that too, but
not anymore. I looked at Justin and saw how tense his body was. He was waiting
for an opportunity to strike. I shook my head at him.</p><p>�There�s hope for the future, Torben.
There�s something in it for all of us � just not you.�</p><p>I pulled the revolver out of my pocket,
raised it at Torben�s face and before he could react, I pulled the trigger. The
bullet blew a hole in his forehead. The lights in his eyes dimmed, and he fell
back and thudded onto the stones.</p><p>I looked over at the farm. The field was
full of infected now. There were so many of them crammed in that it was
impossible to see the grass beneath their feet. I looked through all the dead
faces searching for anything that was living, but it seemed that the hunters
had all fallen in battle. Out across the field, where the farm met the road,
even more infected were streaming in. Soon the whole place would be awash with
them.</p><p>That was when I knew for sure that the
farm was done. No matter how remote and out of the way the place was, this just
proved that nowhere could ever be safe. I thought back to Vasey and it�s walls,
and for the first time ever, I wished I was there.</p><p>I looked at the farmhouse and watched
dozens of infected stumble inside. I�m sorry Clara, I thought. I got here, like
I promised, but look at what I brought with me.</p><p>I turned to Justin. The boy was knelt on
the floor. He had a knife in his hand and his arm was tensed.� He couldn�t have
been any more different from the kid I had first met back in Vasey, the one who
was so unsure of them that he couldn�t even walk straight.</p><p>I let out a deep breath. �It�s time to
go,� I said.</p><p>He nodded. �We�re both going together?�
he said.</p><p>I arched my eyebrows. �What do you
mean?�</p><p>�Don�t you remember? �When we get to the
farm, you�re on your own�. That�s what you said to me.�</p><p>The words stung. I had said them on a
number of occasions, and I had meant them every time. But now things were
different. A man couldn�t live on his own, I knew that now. I was ready to stop
being alone.</p><p>I got to my feet.</p><p>�What about the farm?� said Justin.</p><p>I looked over at the farmhouse. It was
swarmed with infected now. I imagined them walking through the rooms, imagined
them passing the photo of Clara as a child. I pictured them walking upstairs
and going into her childhood bedroom. I felt my chest burn. I screwed my face
up.</p><p>I wasn�t going to have the farm. But I
sure as hell wasn�t going to let them take it.</p><p>I stretched out my arm and pointed my
gun over at the field. I guided it across until I had the petrol tank, the one
with �petrol� painted in red across it, in my sights. I took a deep breath and
held it in. I remembered being back in the tree with the stalker coming at me,
about how I wasted three bullets trying to hit it.</p><p>Now, I only had one. This time I wasn�t
going to miss.</p><p>I squinted and pulled the trigger.</p><p>Three hundred metres away the tank
exploded, and an orange fireball spread into the sky. The bodies of the
infected were flung in every direction. Flames engulfed the field and started
to spread to the farmhouse, the heat licking at the old timber and setting it
alight.</p><p>I sat back. Even so far away, I could
feel the heat on my face as the farm burnt to the ground.</p></section><section><empty-line/><p><strong>Chapter 23</strong></p><p>Five miles in the distance the smoke
billowed into the air in thick grey columns that diluted the blue of the
afternoon sky. At the farm, the night before, the air had been so heavy that I
felt myself choke on it. Now, with a little distance between us, the air was
cleaner.</p><p>I sat back on the grass as Justin lifted
the shovel and piled the last of the earth back onto the mound. The milky brown
soil cut a contrast to the green of the lawn, but I doubted the owners would
care. I looked behind me at the house. The windows stared back at me, dark and
empty, and nothing moved inside. We had already checked every inch of the
place, of course, but it didn�t hurt to be wary.</p><p>I looked at David�s grave. He was buried
in a garden that belonged to someone who we had never even met, but I don�t
think he would have felt hard done by. To have any sort of burial at all was a
rarity these days, and David had never been a sucker for attention.</p><p>�Think anyone will see the smoke?� asked
Justin.</p><p>He rested on the shovel. He wore a blue
shirt that he had taken from one of the bedrooms, and he had rolled the sleeves
up to his elbows. Tucked into his belt was a long hunting knife, but the blade
was dull.</p><p>�Who told you that you could take my
knife?� I said.</p><p>�Someone had to take care of the
owners,� he said, and jerked his thumb back at the house.</p><p>I felt a jolt of pain in my leg. Last
night I�d cleaned out the wound and wrapped a bandage around it, which I hoped
to god would be enough to stave off infection. In the meantime, though, until
it healed, walking was going to be tough.</p><p>�What now?� said Justin.</p><p>I stretched out my leg and felt a scream
of pain. �We�re not going anywhere in the near future.�</p><p>�And after that?�</p><p>�I can�t see that far.�</p><p>Justin sat down next to me. In the oak
tree opposite me, at the end of the garden, I saw something move in one of the
branches. I couldn�t tell what it was.</p><p>I cleared my throat. �I�m thinking we go
back to Vasey.�</p><p>He turned and looked at me. His right
eyebrow arched. �Really?�</p><p>I nodded. �They�re not bad people, � I
said, �They just need someone to set them straight.�</p><p>I thought about the journey back to
Vasey, about the hundreds of miles we�d have to travel, and my leg ached in
anticipation. It would be a hell of a tough trip, but we�d do it. The town
wasn�t the greatest place in the world, but right now it was all we had.</p><p>A breeze blew on my collar and the sun
began to disappear behind a cloud.</p><p>�C�mon, let�s go inside,� I said.</p><p>Justin got to his feet. He stood in
front of me and held out his hand.</p><p>�What do you think I am, a cripple?�</p><p>He laughed. �That�s exactly what you
are.�</p><p>I took his hand, got to my feet and let
him support me inside the house.</p><p>The sun set and the darkness trickled
into the sky until soon everything above us was black. Outside, in the oak
tree, an owl hooted. Something about the sound reassured me; that owls were
still a thing, that the stalkers and infected hadn�t gotten all of them. I
wondered if there were a parliament of them out there somewhere.</p><p>I stretched my leg out on the couch. My
eyelids were heavy and my eyeballs felt itchy.</p><p>�One of us needs to stand watch,� I
said.</p><p>Justin drew his knife in one hand� and
then dragged a wooden chair over to the window. Outside there was a clear view
of the garden. He turned to me. �You can hardly stand, so guess it�s going to
have to be me.�</p><p>I tried to sit up. I wanted to argue
with him, tell him that I was going to do it, but my weary body dragged me
back. As soon as I hit the couch I felt every last scrap of energy seep out of
me as though all the cells in my body had given up trying to pretend.</p><p>I thought about the night�s sleep I was
going to have. I thought about the next day, and the day after that. About how
my leg would heal, and soon we�d set off back to Vasey. We would make something
of the town, I decided. We�d make a real go of it.</p><p>I glanced at Justin. He gripped the
knife tightly in his hand and he looked out into the night, the depth of his
stare making him seem much older than he was.</p><p>I closed my eyes and let myself drift
into sleep, for a brief moment not caring about the darkness that waited for me
outside.</p><empty-line/></section></body><binary id="cover" 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</binary>
</FictionBook>