“Mm.” She pulled back, blinking rapidly. “Me too.”
Thunder crackled in the distance. Clare turned to look behind them, towards the minibus. Its windows were blacked out, but she could imagine Dorran sitting inside, anxious and uncertain, alone in the dark as he waited for them to return. Her heart ached for him. “I’m not letting you kick Dorran out.”
Beth chewed on her lip for a second then sighed. “He can stay. For now. But if he wants to split up, we let him go, okay?”
Clare still didn’t like her sister’s tone, but she nodded. It was probably the best concession she would get. And she already knew Dorran would stay.
Beth squinted up at the sky as lightning arced above them. “Rain’s nasty today. Come on. Let’s get dry. We shouldn’t linger here, anyway. The hollows are growing impatient.”
Chapter Two
Beth wrapped one arm around Clare’s shoulder as they moved back towards the minibus. Clare frowned, trying to understand what her sister had said. “The hollows?”
“Yeah. I parked here because it’s the closest haven to the city. The light keeps the hollow ones at bay. But they’ll only stay on the outskirts for so long before the hunger gets the best of them.”
Clare squinted at their surroundings and took them in properly for the first time. The parking lot stretched around them in all directions, empty except for a handful of overturned shopping trolleys. The lights above them flooded the area for a hundred feet in each direction. But if she stared at the shadows on the edges of the asphalt, where the light was thinner, she thought she saw bulb-like eyes glowing in the bushes.
The shopping centre stood not far behind them. It was a single story, designed in a long boomerang shape. She guessed it would house at least eighty stores. She’d thought the windows and doors were dark, but as she looked again, she realised they’d been boarded up. Through the planks and sheet metal, she thought she saw spots of light. “Beth… are there people in there?”
“Yeah.”
“Should we—”
“No.” They were at the bus’s door, and Beth pushed the handle to open it. With the windows covered, barely any light reached inside the vehicle, and Clare had to blink as her eyes adjusted.
The minibus had probably been used for tours at one point. Six rows of seats, made of mottled blue-and-grey fabric, ran either side of the aisle. Metal baskets suspended above them were full of luggage. It wasn’t exactly luxurious, but it was modern and clean.
Dorran still stood in the aisle, one hand braced on a chair for support, shivering as his clothes dripped onto the floor. His expression was unreadable, which Clare had learned was a defence mechanism when he felt uneasy.
“Hey,” she called, injecting some brightness into her voice. “We’re all good. Beth, do you have towels, by any chance?”
“In the basket to your right.” Beth dropped into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition. Lights flickered to life above them, and the door slid closed, muffling the rain.
Clare found a black plastic bag full of towels in the storage compartment Beth had indicated. She pulled two out, checking they were clean, and passed one to Dorran. She couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at the door as she squeezed water out of her hair. “Uh, Beth was just saying that there’s someone in the shopping mall back there. And I’m really hoping she’ll tell me more about that.”
Beth sat crossways in her seat, one arm leaned on the dash, facing Clare as she peeled off her gloves. More fresh, barely sealed cuts marred her hands. “I stopped here before travelling into the city. They call it a safe haven. There are a few dozen havens just like it dotted around the country. Survivors who have found a place to hole up, somewhere with resources and adequate protection. Shopping malls are popular. Especially the more modern ones that have implemented anti-terrorist precautions. There are larger safe havens in the country. Some that boast actual democracies, though I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“They live here?” Clare wiped water out of her eyes. “How many?”
“About twenty in that centre. They advertise their presence; I heard about them from a traveller on the road. It’s the closest shelter you can get to the city centre. They run the lights constantly to keep hollows away and welcome travellers… as long as you have something to trade.”
“What do they trade for?”
“Things they have a finite supply of. Food, water, fuel. In return, they’ll let you spend the night there, and you can take any non-necessities from the other stores. I traded four litres of fuel for as many clothes as I could carry.” She pulled a face. “Starting to regret it, to be honest. Fuel will be in short supply in the coming months.”
Clare leaned close to the door, trying to glimpse the centre through the rain. She caught sight of movement near one of the loading docks. It was impossible to tell whether it was human or hollow. “And you don’t want to stay there again tonight?”
“No. They’re a bit too zealous for my tastes. A lot of surviving bands are. They set up their own rules, their own hierarchy, their own little kingdoms. I know the cliché is survival in numbers, but in this kind of environment, I think we’ll be safer off as just the two of us.”
“Three of us,” Clare said. “Don’t forget Dorran.”
“Hm.” Beth’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at their silent companion. He ran the towel through his hair, tousling it, but kept his eyes on the floor.
She’s just wary because he’s a stranger. She was always overprotective like that. She needs some time to get used to him.
But the cautious part of her mind warned that this new Beth was different. The days of fretting over curious boys was over. This Beth was focussed on survival.
“What have you been doing since we last spoke?” she asked Beth. “I want to know everything. How did you get out of the bunker? Where have you been? And your scars—”
“Later, maybe.” Beth rubbed her neck, shaking droplets of water off her chin, as she levelled a cold gaze at Dorran. “So, you’ve been keeping my sister company these last few weeks, huh?”
He blinked but didn’t meet her eyes. “Ah—yes.”
“Well, I guess I owe you some thanks for that.”
Good. Good. Clare glanced between them, hopeful.
“And I want to give you something to show my gratitude,” Beth continued. “You’re probably ready to get some agency back, right? Name a location. I’ll drop you off there and set you up with good supplies.”
“Hey,” Clare snapped. “We agreed he was staying.”
“We agreed he could leave if he chose to.” Beth didn’t take her eyes off Dorran. “Look, you’ve travelled a long way, and you’re obviously tired. Clare and I might be on the road for a while before we settle down. Pick somewhere to stay, and I’ll give you supplies to last. What do you say?”
“Beth—”
“Let him answer.”
Dorran allowed the towel to fall around his shoulders. His dark, deep-set eyes barely flickered, and Clare wondered if Beth could pick up on the quiet panic that was setting into him. His voice remained steady, though, even as he struggled to phrase himself diplomatically. “That is a kind offer. But I would be grateful for the opportunity to accompany you further. I hope I can continue to assist yourself and Clare.”
Beth’s lips twitched down. “I’ll let you take some of our fuel. It’s worth more than gold these days.”
“Stop it.” Clare stepped forward, planting herself between Dorran and Beth. “He’s not going anywhere. We’re a team.”
Beth huffed. She didn’t look happy, but she rolled her shoulders in something like a reluctant shrug. “All right. Fine. You said he’s tired, right? He can sleep in the back of the bus. There’s a bed set up there. But get some dry clothes on first. They’re stored in the racks above your heads.” Beth swivelled to face the dash and put the bus into gear. The engine rumbled as she eased them back towards the street. “We’re far enough from the city that we don’t h
ave to rush, but we can’t afford to sit here all day either. The hollows get antsy around nightfall, and I want to be in the country by then. So you better figure out how to sleep while I drive.”
“That’s fine,” Dorran said.
“Clare, get changed, then sit up front with me. I’ll need you for navigation.”
“Okay.” Clare, relieved that Beth had let the argument drop, turned towards the racks and began looking through them. They held not just clothes but cartons of fuel, water, and cardboard boxes full of long-life food, as well as a rack of weapons suspended near the bus’s rear. She pulled stacks of clothes down as she found them. Most of the outfits were small sizes that would fit the sisters. She had to dig to find clothes large enough for Dorran.
Beth had been sensible about the outfits she’d brought, though; there were extra-thick, insulated shirts and jackets, along with rain-proof overcoats and sturdy leather footwear. Most still had their price tags attached, which identified them as coming from a high-end hiking store.
“Try these,” Clare murmured, passing shirts and pants to Dorran. She snapped the tags off clothes for herself and sat in one of the seats to change. Her hair was still damp, but there wasn’t much she could do for it, so she tied it into a messy bun as she approached Beth at the bus’s front.
“You’re looking better.” Beth remained facing the road, but her eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror to watch her two companions. “We can’t afford to waste fuel to heat the bus, but there are blankets in the basket under your seat.”
Clare pulled the fleece bundle out then settled into the chair beside the driver’s console. It had been set back a little to make room for the door but kept her close to Beth and allowed an unobstructed view of the twisting road ahead. She glanced behind. The row of seats at the back had been converted to a bed, stacked high with pillows and blankets. Dorran sat on its edge and gave her a small smile. He looked better wearing proper thermal clothes and with his hair brushed back, but the greyness hadn’t left his face. Clare motioned for him to relax. He settled back in his seat, legs crossed ahead of himself, but didn’t seem ready to sleep.
“Let’s get out of this mess.” Beth coaxed the bus around another sharp angle. Its rear bumper scraped against a fallen tree. “The map’s in the side pocket there; if I show you where we are, can you help with directions?”
“Sure.” Clare took the map from the compartment beside the driver’s seat. The paper folded out to take up her whole lap, and it seemed to have been designed for tourists. Emblems dotted notable locations, and a beaming bird mascot gave them a thumbs-up from the map’s corner.
Beth had drawn across the map in red pen. Thick Xs covered many of the roads.
“That means the street is impassable,” Beth explained, seeing Clare looking. “Circles are for possible resources. Some of those are just hearsay from the people I’ve passed, though. No guarantee they’re still intact. Triangles are safe havens. We’ll be avoiding those. Stars are hazards.”
Clare gazed across the dozens of marks. “You’ve been about.”
Beth chuckled. “It took a while to get into the city. Lots of detours, lots of impassable roads.”
“Okay.” Clare traced a red marker line through the suburbs, until it ended in the countryside. “Where are we going?”
“Just out. Somewhere we can set up camp and heat some food without these ghouls jabbering at us.”
A taxi stood to their left. The driver, still wearing scraps of his uniform, clawed at his window, saliva dripping from his missing jaw. Beth sent it a derisive glare then put some pressure on the accelerator to pass it.
“Did you clear the roads with this?” Clare nodded to the bus.
“Part of it. The part that goes up to the tower. But there are cleared roads like this snaking through the city and suburbs. They were made by people who came looking for their families.” Beth sighed. “People who escaped the changes but had children, parents, or spouses living in the city. Hope is a brutal thing. It will carry you further than your feet ever wanted to go.”
Clare knew how that felt. Hope had pushed her to drive to Beth’s bunker, even after the radio went quiet. She couldn’t imagine how it must have been for the people searching for their lost loved ones. Knowing the city was overrun, knowing that there was next to no chance of their family still being alive but not being able to stop hoping because it was the only thing that kept them waking up in the morning.
“What happened after I lost contact with you?” Clare’s eyes flicked to the scars marring Beth’s face. “We saw the dead hollows inside your bunker. You must have opened your doors…”
“And fought my way out, yeah.” A wolfish smile stretched her lips. “I never imagined I was capable of surviving something like that. But I did. I guess it was a… catalyst. I didn’t need to be afraid any longer.”
It had changed her—that was certain. Even though Clare was struggling to adjust to the stronger, harder version of her sister, she was still grateful for it. Beth hadn’t cowered. And that had allowed her to survive.
“And you built this bus?” Clare indicated to the modifications.
“No. This, I found. Some poor soul had obviously planned to be a hero. I found it off the side of the road next to a demolished campsite. As far as I can tell, he was attacked while cooking dinner and decided to stand and fight instead of hiding in the bus. There was nothing left except some blood soaked into the ground. The hollows even eat bones.”
Clare shivered. She’d witnessed the creatures’ all-consuming hunger.
Beth shrugged. “I feel bad for the guy, but I’m grateful as well. He did a good job of getting this thing hollow-proof. There are even shutters you can pull over the front window. If they can’t see you or hear you, eventually, they lose interest and wander away. I mean, it takes hours. Sometimes all night. But it’s better than trying to escape while they’re crawling all over your windshield.”
“I’d be worried about it chewing through fuel too fast.”
“Oh, it does, but it gives me enough brute force to get through almost anything, and that’s worth it.”
The rain continued to drizzle through the afternoon, and thick clouds hid the sun. If not for the clock on the dash, Clare could have been lulled into thinking they were trapped in perpetual twilight. Their bus didn’t make much noise beyond the motor’s purr, the quiet thudding of the windshield wipers, and Clare’s occasional directions.
Beth seemed to be mulling something over. She kept glancing at the rearview mirror. With the windows boarded up, the mirror wouldn’t help her see the road. She had to be watching Dorran. He’d lain down, one arm folded under his head, breathing slow and heavy as he slept. “Tell me about him.”
“I meant what I said earlier. He’s a good man. Kind, smart, and loyal. I wouldn’t have made it this far without him.”
“There aren’t many kind people left in this world,” Beth said.
Clare started to nod but stopped herself as her sister continued.
“And there are a lot of bad people masquerading as good.”
“What does that mean?”
Beth lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Lots of people will pretend to be your friend if they need something from you.”
Clare couldn’t stop herself from bristling. “Well, I can vouch for Dorran.”
“We’re family. I know I can trust you, and you know you can trust me. Come hell or high water, we’ll stick together. But you can’t expect that kind of loyalty from anyone else you meet on the road. Maybe this man is one of the better ones. But even he will leave if he decides you’re weighing him down.”
He won’t. He didn’t. Clare pressed her lips together. She couldn’t tell Beth how wrong she was, not without telling her about some of the things that had happened in Winterbourne. Weak from blood loss and poison, convinced that she was going insane, she’d been nothing but a physical and emotional burden. But Dorran had carried her without any trace of reluctance or revuls
ion, no matter how bad it had been. She’d never believed a person could be so patient.
Clare looked down at her hands again. Her thumb grazed over the ring Dorran had given her. Beth hadn’t noticed it yet. If she had, there would have been a comment. Making sure Beth’s eyes were on the road, Clare slid the ring off and tucked it into a pocket.
Beth already mistrusted Dorran. Telling Beth they were married—or, at least, as close to married as they could be in a world without marriage registrars or ceremonies—would be like trying to extinguish a bonfire with petrol. She would give them time to get to know each other and develop some trust before taking that step.
The outer suburbs gradually faded into rural land spotted with sickly plants and occasional sheds. Clare tried to watch her sister without being obvious about it. Something must have happened to Beth to make her so bitter. Something had hardened her against every other survivor. Clare wanted to ask her about it but didn’t know whether that line of questioning might be safe.
“We’ll stop here while we figure out where we’re going next.” Beth pulled off the road in a field. “Come on. Help me set up some shelter.”
Chapter Three
The shelter turned out to be a cloth overhang that extended from the bus’s roof. Retractable tentpoles anchored into the wet ground, creating a six-by-eight-foot sheltered area. Beth had parked in a weedy field away from any settlements. The grass was dead, but it was higher ground than the areas surrounding it and was relatively dry compared to the fields that had been turned into shallow ponds.
Beth opened a compartment on the bus’s side, and Clare stared in awe at the extra storage. The bus really had been fitted for self-reliance. The compartment carried a portable cooker and tank of gas, foldable chairs, more food and water, and an assortment of weapons, including axes, shovels, and a homemade pike.
Beth carried the cooker out and placed it under the awning. “If your friend wants to eat, you’d better wake him up.”
Whispers in the Mist: Black Winter Book Three Page 2
