“The days are blurring together.” Anna craned her neck, peering through the open door into the hallway. “Where did you take off your backpack when we first got here?”
“What backpack?” Sarah wiggled her hands, pulling on her ties as if only now realising she was tied to a radiator pipe.
“We came in through the garage. You were carrying your backpack, but by the time I’d found Dad, you’d already put it down. Where did you leave it?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere in the hallway. Why?”
Anna huffed. “There’s a gun in there, silly.”
Sarah lifted her head. “Perhaps Oreo can bring us the backpack?”
“You do realise he’s not some kind of circus dog, right?”
“I’m starting to think you haven’t prepared him properly for an apocalypse.”
A pained hiss came from the bathroom, followed by a mumbled apology from Nellie. Gus’ voice grew louder.
“What are they talking about?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know. Probably how to get rid of us.” She sniffed, then grimaced.
“What is it?”
“My nose. It feels like it’s twice its usual size.”
Anna chuckled. “Believe me, it’s bigger than that.”
Sarah grinned, then winced again. “I was worried about you. You were out cold for a while.”
“I’m sorry.” Anna moved her hands along the radiator pipe until she reached Sarah’s, giving her sister’s fingers a squeeze. “I’m sorry about Dad. I know you loved him.”
“Not so much loved, just…” Sarah’s voice trailed off and she gave a small shrug. “He was a fun Dad when I was little. Not so much later.”
“I know.”
“It’s over now.” Sarah gestured towards the bathroom with her chin. “We need to get out of here before they—”
“I know.”
“He has almost two months’ worth of insulin. What more does he want?”
Anna rested her head on Sarah’s shoulder and sighed. “This is a nice house. I’d consider staying if I were them.”
“If I were them, I’d try finding a small fridge, a generator and enough petrol—”
Anna perked up. “Or a solar-powered generator.”
“Or that.” Sarah nodded. “I don’t get why they’re not doing that.”
“Perhaps they’re not as smart as you?” Anna shrugged, then jerked her head in direction of the bathroom. “Gus is afraid of dying.”
“You don’t kill people if you’ve given up.”
“He didn’t kill us.”
“But—” Sarah stopped and frowned. “Didn’t you say your camping gear was in here somewhere? With a Swiss Army Knife?”
“It’s in the wardrobe.” Anna uncrossed her legs and stretched. She scooted as far away from the radiator as her ties would allow her, twisting her back until her toes touched the wardrobe doors. “I can’t get to it. And Oreo might bring us your backpack, but he’s definitely not opening wardrobes.”
Movement caught her attention, and Anna looked up just in time to see Gus leaving the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“My way?” Nellie shouted. “None of this is having it my way.”
“Perhaps we can trick Nellie into giving us the backpack,” Sarah whispered.
Anna scooted back to the radiator.
“What are you two talking about?” Gus asked upon entering the room. He’d stuffed their pistol into his belt and towered above them with his arms crossed over his chest.
Anna bit her lip. “What do you want from us?”
Nellie was lingering in the doorway, fiddling with her hair.
“Dad is dead, and you have his insulin. What are you going to do with us?” Sarah asked.
Gus scoffed. “Who says I have to do anything with you?”
“Gus—”
“Shut up, Nellie.” He gave his wife a hard look, then turned his attention back to Sarah. “What were you two talking about?”
Anna took a deep breath. “If you’re not letting us go, you either have to feed us or kill us. Which is it?”
He sneered. “Or I let you starve.”
Oreo pressed himself against the radiator in an attempt to get away from Gus. His warm breath hit Anna’s cheek.
“Gus, come on—”
“I said shut up.” His face turned redder with every breath he took.
Nellie straightened her back and stepped into the room, raising a hand as if to placate him. “We have what you—”
“We don’t,” he spat. “I’m dying. This disease is killing me, and there’s no way for us to stop it.”
“Why don’t you look in warehouses for a small fridge?” Sarah asked.
“And an outdoor retailer might have a generator,” Anna added, biting her lip. She didn’t want to give him a reason to kill more people, but this was the first time he was actually listening to them.
There was a glint in Gus’ eye, and he turned to Nellie. “A generator. I hadn’t thought of that. We could keep working down your list.”
“Could you please—” No. If she asked for the backpack directly, they’d know that something important was in it. They wouldn’t give it to her without checking its contents.
And the pistol was probably on top of the supplies they had packed, swiftly and easily accessible.
“Look,” Sarah whispered. “We’ll go. Dad’s dead. There’s nothing here for us. Please untie us.”
Gus scoffed.
“Will you at least get me some food for Oreo?” Anna asked. She gave Nellie a pleading look. “Poor thing is starving. You can’t be that heartless.”
Gus grunted, but Nellie’s features softened as she gave Oreo a look full of pity. “Where’s his food?”
“We left our backpack in the hallway. There’s a box of treats in the small pocket at the front.”
Nellie disappeared into the hallway and moments later came back and showed the backpack to Anna. “This one?”
Anna nodded.
Nellie opened the front pocket. “It’s empty.”
“Oh. I must have—”
Nellie rolled her eyes. “Do it yourself.” She threw the bag at Anna’s feet.
Gus laughed. “Let’s pack up and leave.”
Nellie kissed his cheek and nodded. “See? I told you we’d figure things out.”
They left the room and moments later Anna heard drawers being opened in the kitchen.
She exhaled slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. “We did it.”
Sarah grinned.
“Let’s get out of here.” Anna gripped the backpack with her feet, presenting it to Oreo. “What’s this? Shall we play tug of war? Can you pull on it?”
Oreo cocked his head, then grabbed the bag between his teeth, growling playfully. He swung it back and forth as if it were his prey. Anna squeezed her legs together, holding it in place.
Finally, it opened a crack, and Anna used her teeth to pull the zips apart.
Tins of food rolled out onto the floor.
There was no weapon.
Sarah’s face fell. “But—”
“He must have found it,” Anna said. “Before he even came into Dad’s bedroom. He must have checked your bag.”
“He’s taken the gun from my backpack?” Sarah frowned. “But that means—” She jerked her chin in the direction of the bedside table. “My gun! It’s still there. They didn’t notice it in the dark.”
Anna grinned, then remembered her cable ties and sighed, seeing her hopes dashed again already.
She still didn’t know how to get out of those.
10
Maggie was carrying a large candle. The flickering flame illuminated the stone path. Mist blanketed the surrounding fields, reminding Chris of her dream. She shivered. Goosebumps rose, and she rubbed her arms.
The waning moon painted the fields with a silver brush. A sheep called out somewhere in the distance.
Tom poked his head
outside, dressed in an oversized Captain America shirt. He ran his hand through tousled hair. “Mum?”
“Go back to sleep, Tom.”
His eyes were pleading. “Remember—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.” Chris gestured for Maggie to lead the way.
A shadow moved in the mist, and Chris’ gut tightened, but it was just Spike trotting over. She stiffened as he sniffed her side and growled. The hairs on her neck rose, and she narrowed her eyes. It was as if the dog smelled that there was something wrong with her.
That she didn’t fit in.
“She’s with me,” Maggie said to Spike. Wax trickled down the side of the candle and fell onto the grass.
The dog licked Maggie’s hand. She reached into her apron and tossed a treat into the dark. Spike followed the scent, his nose glued to the ground.
They entered the house through the kitchen, and Chris came to a halt. The smoke had dissipated, but the smell of ham still lingered in the air. Chris’ stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten in—
She considered the last few days, one hand reaching up and gently touching the lump on the back of her head. So much had happened, and with the concussion churning her stomach, she hadn’t had any appetite.
Tom had to be starving as well unless he’d snuck out after Chris had gone to sleep. “Did Tom have anything to eat?”
Maggie turned in the doorway and flashed Chris a reassuring smile. “He sheepishly shuffled into my kitchen a few hours ago. I fed him. Those boys grow like weeds.”
“Oh?” Chris was the one who was supposed to look after Tom. Feed him, comfort him, keep him safe. Why was Maggie—
Remembering that their current shelter depended on Maggie and Tony’s goodwill, Chris gave her a small smile and swallowed her resentment. “Thank you. I completely forg—”
A pained moan came from upstairs.
“We had better hurry,” Maggie said. “It’s this way.”
The wooden floor creaked underneath Maggie’s slippers as she hurried up the stairs. Chris counted five doors along the upstairs hallway. Maggie pushed open the last door, and Chris entered.
The acrid smell of sweat greeted her, and she wrinkled her nose. It was a small bedroom, and the window was open wide, letting in a little of the summer breeze. It wasn’t doing much to get rid of the stench.
Emily sat on the bed, holding Adam’s hand. Beads of sweat dotted his hairline, his glassy eyes reflecting the flickering flame of the candle.
Chris sniffed the air, searching for obvious signs of infection, but apart from sour sweat, the room smelled clean. There was no foul odour in the air.
She approached the bed, hiding a yawn behind her hand, then rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I was asleep,” she said to Emily.
“Of course, you were. How’s your head?”
“Better. Thank you.” Chris drew in a slow breath, tension building at the thought of what she might find.
Maggie wouldn’t wake her up for a simple fever. She’d be taking care of Adam on her own, wrapping his feet into vinegar-soaked socks or using some other homemade remedy to draw out the fever. It had to be more serious than that.
What if she couldn’t help? Cold slithered through her stomach at the thought.
Adam’s cheeks were flushed, the rest of his face alarmingly pale. He was clutching his belly, mouth twisted in pain. Hugging his knees to his chest, he moaned. “It hurts.”
Chris bit her lip, assessing the situation. “What’s happened? He was fine earlier?”
“He complained of a bellyache after dinner. I thought he’d eaten too much, but now he’s running a high fever.”
Chris turned to Adam. “Can you tell me where exactly it hurts?”
“Here,” he whispered, pointing at the lower right side of his stomach.
Chris placed the back of her hand against Adam’s forehead. His skin felt clammy and hot. “He definitely has a fever.” She pulled back the duvet and felt the sheets. They were soaked with sweat. “Do you have a thermometer?”
Maggie shook her head. “No, we—”
“May I touch your stomach?” Chris asked Adam.
He nodded, his breathing laboured. Lifting his shirt, he mumbled, “It hurts.”
“I know.” Chris rubbed her hands together to warm them, then placed them on his stomach, applying gentle pressure. “Tell me when you feel pain.” She moved her hands around, waiting for him to nod or shake his head before moving them again.
Emily brushed his damp hair from his forehead, then gripped his hand.
Chris’ mind was racing, and she thought back to her training. A stomach ache could be caused by multiple things. Most were harmless. “Let’s have a look at the other side. Move that way please.”
“That side doesn’t hurt,” Adam said, but he moved around like she’d told him to.
“I know.” Chris applied pressure to the left side, and this time she didn’t hold back, digging her palms into his belly.
“I told you that side doesn’t hurt.”
She waited, then let go suddenly.
Adam yelped and gripped Emily’s hand so hard, she visibly winced. Emily moved forward and wiped his forehead with a towel.
“Did it hurt as a result of my letting go?” Chris asked.
He nodded.
Her stomach sank. Oh no. What was she going to do? “Where exactly?”
Adam pointed to his lower right side, and Chris bit back a curse.
“What is it?” Maggie asked. She stood by a chest of drawers, her brows furrowed.
“I don’t want to alarm you,” Chris whispered. “It could just be trapped wind, but that wouldn’t cause a fever. He’s not sick, so I doubt it’s food poisoning.”
“What are you thinking?”
“It would be best if he could have a doctor look at him. Ideally, I’d like to send him for an ultrasound. I can’t be sure…but it’s possibly appendicitis.”
Emily smiled, clearly relieved. “But that isn’t dangerous, is it?
“It wasn’t two weeks ago,” Maggie said softly.
Emily paled and her grip on Adam’s hand tightened. “What can we do?”
“If it’s appendicitis, he needs surgery and—”
“Can you do it?” Maggie asked.
Chris blinked. “Me? Of course not.”
“But you’re a nurse.”
“A nurse, yes. Not a doctor, and definitely not a surgeon. I’m not even a theatre nurse.” Nausea washed over her. Her heart was pounding as she stared into Maggie’s trusting eyes. Adam was her nephew, and if this was appendicitis, he would likely die.
It was as if death somehow followed Chris.
No. Chris sighed, shaking her head. The world had changed. People would soon start dying of small cuts, pneumonia once winter set in. Everyday occurrences like an infected tooth could be a death sentence.
Death would soon be following everyone and not just Chris.
She thought of Tom, her mind racing. She’d promised him to hunker down. Don’t meddle, he’d said, but if she didn’t help Adam, they’d blame her when he died.
Chris considered herself a valuable addition to any group of survivors, but what good was having a nurse around, if the nurse let people die?
She had to save Adam. She had to prove her worth.
Chris pulled the duvet back up to Adam’s shoulders, then straightened, massaging her lower back with one hand. “Do you have any antibiotics? Maybe someone had a tooth extraction and didn’t take all their medication?”
“No. I’m afraid not.” Emily placed her hand against Adam’s cheek in a tender caress, mumbling comforting words.
“Tony will hopefully bring some when he gets back,” Maggie said. “Might be a few days.”
Chris stepped away from the bed and gestured for Maggie to follow her. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He doesn’t have a few days.”
“They only left two days ago,” Maggie said, burying her face in her hands. “And Charlotte—”
“Adam doesn’t have days.”
“We could ask people in the village,” Maggie suggested. “What exactly do we need?”
Chris scowled. “Anything that says antibiotics on the box. Sometimes that’s enough to treat appendicitis. Isn’t there a pharmacy nearby?” She had to save Adam. Charlotte would be so grateful, and even if things were tough, Tony wouldn’t dare throw them out after Chris had saved his nephew.
“There are several within a ten-mile radius, but I don’t know if they have anything left,” Maggie said. “That’s one of the reasons Tony set out the other day. That and of course he’s still looking for James’ mum.”
“It can’t hurt to check the pharmacies.” Chris scratched her temple. “James said the tractor is still working, could we—”
“The roads are blocked. You wouldn’t get far.”
Chris paced the room from the door to the window, stopped, glanced outside. The waning moon hung low over the horizon. The sky was growing a lighter blue as morning approached.
“In that case we’ll have to try getting there on foot.”
“I’ll ask Harry to go with you,” Maggie said.
Chris shook her head. “What if looters realise you have livestock and other supplies? Can you defend the farm without Harry? You don’t even have a proper fence. Only Spike.”
A cough came from the bed, immediately followed by a pained moan. “Can someone look after my kitten? She needs feeding every four hours.”
Chris frowned. She hadn’t even noticed the kitten curled up in a basket next to his bed.
“Don’t you worry about that,” Emily said. “I’ll ask my daughters to take care of her.”
“Harry can’t come with me,” Chris said. “What are you going to do in case an armed mob shows up?”
“We have a shotgun.”
“I know. But one shotgun does not protect you against a mob.”
“And you think Harry can protect us against a mob?” Maggie shrugged. “But point taken. In that case, I’ll come with you. You can’t go alone. You’re still recovering from a concussion, and you don’t know the area at all.”
Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 2 | Darkness Falling Page 9
