“Would you like something to eat?” Emily asked.
Chris shook her head. “Maybe later.”
Maggie pulled the curtains closed, plunging the room into darkness.
“That’s not necessary,” Chris said as the two girls complained they could no longer see the colours of their crayons.
Adam turned around and opened the curtains a crack, letting some sunlight spill into the room. Satisfied, the girls turned their attention back to the colouring book.
The farmhouse seemed well stocked. They even had milk for the kitten.
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind some tea if you have any?” Chris asked softly.
Maggie nodded and got to her feet. She lingered in the doorway to the kitchen. “One cup of tea coming right up. Sugar? I have some milk left but—”
“Black is fine. No sugar. I can get up and—”
“Don’t be silly, love.”
Adam put the bottle of milk down and the kitten nestled into his jumper. “Any news from outside?” He scratched his smooth chin with a manicured fingernail. “Do you know what’s happened?”
“I’m afraid not,” Chris said. “The army attempted to distribute food in Harlow, but they ran out almost immediately. It looked like they’d abandoned the town when we left. I heard from a soldier that London is a no-go zone. Anyone know if that’s true?”
Maggie returned with a steaming cup of tea and handed it to Chris. “Emily worked in London as a marketing manager. She almost didn’t make it out.”
Chris closed her eyes and let the rising steam warm her face. “How do you know each other?”
Maggie sat down next to Chris. “We’re neighbours. After it—whatever it is—happened, Tony decided it was safer to stay together, and considering the stories I’ve heard, I think he’s right.”
“What happened in London?” Tom asked.
Emily sighed. “I had an important meeting early the next day, and my company had booked a hotel room for the night, so I didn’t have to commute. I went to bed early and was asleep when it happened. I was woken in the early hours of the morning because people were smashing in shop windows outside.”
Chris took a sip of her tea. “The night of?”
“Doesn’t sound great, does it?” Emily shrugged. “It was obvious from the start that this was more than just a power cut. The last few trains were stuck in the tunnels, and buses going nowhere practically littered the streets. Ubers had crashed into black cabs, and black cabs into Ubers.”
Tom listened with wide eyes. It hadn’t been as obvious in Harlow. The next morning, people had been told to stay inside and wait for the shops and their workplaces to reopen. Most had been willing to do that.
If it hadn’t been for Anna, Chris might have simply gone to bed. It wasn’t surprising that things had been worse in London.
But for rioting to start the very same night?
She blew on her tea, watching the surface ripple.
Emily continued. “My office was five minutes from the hotel. Most shop windows on my way to work had been shattered. Panicked shop owners were standing in the street talking to police officers in riot gear.”
She picked up a crayon one of her girls had dropped. “Only two people from my office had made it to work. One was my boss, and he told me to go home. I grabbed my bags and made my way to the nearest tube station, but it was shut. None of the cars in the street were moving. It took me an hour to walk to Liverpool Street Station, and that was closed down, too.”
“What did you do?” Tom asked.
“I ended up asking a police officer for help, and he said to go back to my hotel and wait until the national grid was up and running again. Those were his words. I pointed at the cars and buses and asked why the grid going down would affect them, and he just shrugged and told me to move on. By that point, the police were using tear gas. There was shouting everywhere, and I’m pretty sure I heard gunshots.”
“Did you go back?” Chris asked.
“I’m not going to lie, I was terrified. I thought of going back to my hotel room, but I was scared things would get worse, and so I decided to walk. Harry had walked into London once for charity, and I vaguely remembered the route. It took me two days. I slept on a bench along the river.”
“You must have been exhausted,” Chris said.
“I found a shop on the outskirts. It was guarded by security, and I asked for some water, but they refused and said everything was about to be rationed.”
Tom cleared his throat. “So, no one knows exactly what happened?”
Maggie shook her head. “Tony thought that perhaps—” She stopped, looking at the girls and shook her head. “We don’t know.”
“Wasn’t it a solar flare?” Tom asked.
“We don’t know, but I can’t believe the sun would be strong enough to cause this. I doubt we’ll find out anytime soon. Speculation doesn’t help us survive.”
“We need to know if we’ve been attacked,” James said. “If there was a nuclear—”
“James!” Maggie said sharply, nodding in the direction of the two girls.
James mumbled an apology.
Chris noticed the fear in Tom’s eyes and leaned over the table, squeezing his hand. “Don’t worry, we’re going to be okay.”
Adam huffed. “We can’t know that.”
“Are we talking about what happened?” a man asked, entering the room holding a carton of eggs and carrying a shotgun in the crook of one arm. He waved at Chris. “Welcome again, I’m Harry.”
“Harry thinks it was a cyber-attack,” Emily said.
Chris blinked. “That wouldn’t kill the cars. They’re not all connected to the Internet.”
“Will you listen to her?” Maggie asked, playfully smacking Harry’s arm. “I told you that wouldn’t render the cars useless.” She got to her feet and took the carton off him. “Thank you for sorting out the chickens. This is Chris. She’s Tom’s mum and a nurse.”
“How long did you stay at home?” James asked.
“We stayed with a friend of mum’s,” Tom replied. “But—”
“Anna was worried about everything,” Chris interrupted before he could say anything else. “We couldn’t stay there. She thought we would steal her food and take off in the night. Events like this make people paranoid, and I get it, I just didn’t expect it from a dear friend.”
“Everyone’s looking out for themselves,” Adam said. “Can’t blame her for being worried.”
Tom said nothing, bowing his head instead, his mouth twisted into a defiant grimace.
“I bet lots of people are turning on each other, knowing that food and medicine will soon run out,” Chris said, choosing her words carefully. “I understand. I’d do anything to keep Tom safe, of course. Still, we were friends, and I guess I was just surprised to find out that she didn’t trust me.”
“You’re a nurse?” Harry asked. “I apologise for being this forward, but we need someone with your knowledge. Where is your—”
Chris squeezed her eyes shut and moaned. She rubbed the back of her head. “I’m sorry. My headache is getting worse. I think I have to lie down.”
“You poor thing,” Maggie said. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” She offered her arm, and Chris took it with a thin smile. “I’m sorry it’s small. We converted one of our barns into a one-bedroom cottage a few years ago and sometimes rent it out to hikers, but it’s usually occupied by staff who help out on the farm.
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” Chris said, gesturing for Tom to get up. “Don’t your grandparents live here as well?” she asked James.
James shook his head. “They were on holiday in Spain for two weeks.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, and Chris immediately apologised.
She silently counted how many people she’d seen so far. Was the farm big enough to support this many?
Maggie guided them outside through the back door off the kitchen. “If it’s too small, we’ll see if we can shift things aroun
d once you’re feeling a bit better.”
“We’re fine. Thank you.” Chris said.
Tom gave Maggie a hug and grinned. “You know I love that barn.”
Chris felt a pang of jealousy at the sight. She’d never seen Tom this at ease. He felt comfortable here. More comfortable than he had at home.
Maggie was not at all like her. Neither was Harry. Chris pressed her lips together. Her anger didn’t fit in here.
She’d have let Spike rip intruders apart, not called him back.
They walked along a stone path to a small, converted barn built from the same brick as the main house. Maggie pulled out a key and unlocked the door. “There you go. Lie down for a bit. Send Tom if you need anything.”
Chris thanked her, went inside with Tom and closed the door. She leaned against it, exhaling slowly. She let her head sink onto her chest, stretching her neck, the tension of the last twenty-four hours slowly melting.
They were safe.
Relieved, she wiped her eyes before looking around.
Maggie hadn’t been kidding. It was cramped. Smaller than Anna’s flat, and that had been a squeeze. A bunk bed stood against the wall near the door. The kitchen was squeezed into a corner and consisted of only a sink, stove and an oven.
Sunlight filtered in through a small window behind the stove. Opposite the kitchen stood a cheap-looking sofa and a coffee table. A wooden folding table was leant against the wall, a small television hanging on the wall above it. Chris doubted it would work.
“I’ll take the top bunk,” Tom said, climbing up the ladder.
Chris took another deep breath.
They’d found a place where people weren’t suspicious of her. People Tom trusted.
A real bed.
They could settle down and relax. Perhaps even survive.
“I’ll have to tell them about Dad at some point,” Tom said, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed.
“I know.”
“We can’t lie.”
“We’re not going to lie. He committed suicide. They’ll understand.”
“Remember what you promised,” Tom said.
“I do.” Chris settled on the bottom bunk. “Don’t tell them about our supplies just yet. Let’s see what happens first.
“Mum—”
“I want to speak to Tony first. What if he isn’t happy that we’re staying here?”
Tom didn’t reply. The bed creaked as he shifted.
Chris fell asleep almost immediately. Tossing and turning, she was haunted by nightmares. Someone was following her through a field, only ever one step away. Warm breath hit her neck and shoulders, but whenever she turned around, she was alone.
Her legs were heavy as if she were wading through treacle. Footsteps rapidly approached. In the rising mist, every tree looked like a hooded figure hunting her, and Chris screamed.
A knock at the door startled her awake.
“Mum?” Tom’s sleepy voice came from the top bunk.
Chris mumbled and brushed crusted saliva from the corners of her mouth. “What is it?”
Another knock. “Chris? Are you awake?”
Chris opened her eyes and sat up. For a moment she didn’t know where she was, then the events of the day came back to her. They were on the farm. They were safe.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Chris?” It was Maggie’s voice.
“What is it?”
She rubbed her eyes, spotting the moon through the small window behind the stove. How long had she been asleep?
“Can you help? Adam is sick.”
Chris’ heart leapt into her throat. So much for hunkering down. She climbed out of bed and grabbed a fresh shirt and her jeans. “I’ll be right there.”
9
Oreo moved his head to Anna’s other knee, looking at her with his small, black eyes as if asking, What are you going to do now?
A gunshot echoed somewhere in the distance, and Anna looked up.
Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Pulling away from the radiator, Anna wiggled her hands, pressing both her thumbs against her palms, but the cable ties were too tight and kept rubbing against already blistered flesh.
The more she squirmed, the more it hurt.
“Sarah?”
Her sister gave no indication that she’d heard her. Her face was a bloody grimace. A mask of silent fury. She was still glaring at their father’s dead body, unable to tear herself away. Drying blood caked her injured nose, red streaks running along her cheeks and chin.
She opened her mouth and hissed in pain, revealing blood-stained teeth. Her breath came in short bursts, and her torn shirt gave her the appearance of a butcher’s apprentice.
You never had much sense. I hope it’s not too late for me to knock some sense into you.
Well, it was too late now.
He’d died trying to save them and Gus and Nellie hadn’t even blinked. On the contrary, they’d already been waiting for him to die, had closed the bedroom door and left him to rot in his own bed.
Anna doubted they would have opened that door again if her and Sarah hadn’t turned up.
They didn’t care about death unless it affected them personally. Like so many people in the world.
Anna wondered how Nellie had chosen her victims. Had she taken a list of all diabetic patients registered at the surgery and—
What?
Picked the one who’d lived closest to them? Or had she looked for someone who lived alone? Or had Nellie known that Frank was vulnerable, always getting confused about his injections, never quite able to look after himself after his wife had died?
It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that they were both willing to kill.
They’d lifted Frank onto the bed, covered him with a duvet and left him there to rot.
Why hadn’t they just taken the insulin and left?
Anna scowled thinking about it. It was a big house, hidden away from the road, shielded by a row of hedges. Perhaps they’d found more patients—potential victims—living nearby and were hoping to use Frank’s house as a base.
I don’t want to die, Gus had said in a tear-filled voice.
She found herself feeling sympathetic towards his pain. She didn’t care about Gus, but he’d sounded so vulnerable.
Insulin could no longer be produced. The idea of running out of medication—medication that kept you alive—had to be terrifying.
But—
Anna scowled. It didn’t—absolutely didn’t—excuse what Gus and Nellie were doing.
They’d tied Anna up, but at least they weren’t waving a knife in her face like Chris had.
Were Gus and Chris the same?
Chris had killed Mike because he’d threatened first her, then her son. She’d poisoned John because he’d robbed her.
Anna imagined both instances could count as self-defence, but she’d seen a hardness in Chris’ eyes, and the deep lines around her mouth had given her the appearance of someone who was eternally bitter.
Chris hadn’t seemed malicious. Not until Anna had found out that Chris, worried about running out of food, had pushed her sister down the stairs.
Gus would die without insulin.
Chris knew that starvation was a real possibility.
Was there a difference between them?
Anna frowned, studying her dog’s trusting face.
Did it matter?
All diabetics would die without insulin, along with anyone else depending on medicine.
Was Nellie right? You would do the same if you were in my situation.
What if Sarah needed medication to survive? What if—
No! Anna couldn’t allow her mind to go down that road. They were both fine. Injured, shaken up, but they were fine.
Two weeks ago, the world as they knew it had ended, and an event of that magnitude always changed people. Everyone had to adapt to survive.
But did that allow them to murder others for food and medicine?
Anna wasn’t sure.
“Can you please shut that door?” Sarah yelled.
Anna flinched at the sudden sound and stared at her sister’s pained face.
Tears glistened in Sarah’s eyes. “I can’t stand to see his face like that.”
“I’m sorry.” Anna looked across the hallway and spotted Nellie’s arm reaching for the bottle of whisky. She took a swig, then set the bottle down next to Gus, ignoring Sarah.
They needed to get out of there before Gus realised that Nellie was right, and they were just two extra mouths to feed.
The bathroom door blocked most of Anna’s view.
Nellie was talking, but Anna couldn’t make out the words. Gus grunted in reply every now and then. Nellie took another swig, then handed Gus a thick wad of cotton.
“I’m trying to figure out what they’re going to do next,” Anna said. “If they keep us here, they have to feed us. They don’t want to throw us out because they’re worried we’d come back. And if they move on, they have to find new shelter…what would you do if you were Gus?”
Anna fell silent, struggling to breathe, her lungs burning. “What are you planning on doing to us?” she yelled, her voice shrill with pent-up frustration and fear.
Sarah snorted, then immediately winced. “You look like you’re in a lot of pain.”
“I think he broke a few of my ribs, but I’ll be fine.”
Oreo gave her jeans a quick lick, and Anna smiled, then yawned.
Was exhaustion a sign of slipping into shock? Suddenly worried, she suppressed another yawn. Instinctively, she wanted to reach for her phone and google her symptoms, then snorted. “Well, that’s not really an option, is it?”
Oreo gave her jeans another lick.
Sarah frowned. “What’s not really an option?”
Anna smiled sheepishly. “Just trying to figure out if my injuries could lead to shock.”
Sarah threw a glance in her direction and rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“I’m so exhausted, I feel like I’m about to pass out.” Anna yawned.
“You don’t look pale enough—”
“How would you know I’d be pale?”
“I don’t know.” Sarah gave a small shrug. “Just trying to be helpful. When did you last sleep?”
Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 2 | Darkness Falling Page 8
