“Give me some good news,” I said, as Evie helped me into a chair.
Charlie wheeled herself across to a terminal, shooing away the young man who had pushed her chair while outside, and tapped at the keyboard. She grimaced at the screen for a moment before pulling up several video feeds.
I leant in, watching as most of our fleet of fishing boats cut through the water, their decks crowded with black-clad figures.
“Where are they going?”
“All over,” Charlie muttered. “Best guess? They will land at various points along the coast and head out in search of whoever killed that parasite.”
“We need to get those ships back.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed shut my eyes as I tried to consider what we needed to do. Without those ships, our ability to catch fish to feed everyone would be down to practically nothing.
We weren’t producing enough in the grow-houses and on the farms to feed everyone and there was precious little stored food still available within reach. Most boats that had been left unattended were at the bottom of the sea and no one was making new ones, which also hampered our chance of getting to the mainland too.
“Did any head towards the airport?” I asked, and Charlie tapped on her keyboard again before shaking her head.
“Nah, looks quiet there. Not much point as we lost the big plane trying to blow up the parasite and the helicopter has long since gone.”
“There’s a small plane, yes?”
“Yeah, I think so, why?”
“We can use that to get some people across to the mainland and maybe bring back some of those boats when the Dead have done with them.”
“Not sure how.” Charlie’s frown didn’t lessen as she tapped at the keyboard. “I mean, the number of places to land a plane is probably dropping every day.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look.” She pointed at the screen which was playing images from the satellites most recent pass over. “You don’t see it here because we have so many people keeping it clean and tidy.”
I understood then and I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t realised beforehand. I could only put it down to the pain and exhaustion of my injuries and imprisonment. The world had changed.
Cities were crumbling as roads, neglected, began to crack as the weather took its toll. Mother nature was reclaiming the world and, on those images, in some parts at least, I could barely make out the road so covered were they with five years’ worth of plant growth.
What airstrips there had been that were clear of abandoned vehicles or wreckage, would simply be overgrown. Our remaining plane was useless and that left us little we could actually use to get from the island to the mainland.
We were, in effect, trapped.
Chapter 4
Gregg winced as Abigail swabbed the back of his ankle with some antiseptic before applying the gauze pad. The large blister that had formed had popped and the flesh beneath was raw and a likely spot for an infection if it wasn’t cared for.
I ignored their chatter as best I could while I stared down at the map spread out before me. Sheltered from the pouring rain by the train carriage we had spent the night in, I was planning the next step of our journey.
My original plan had seemed fairly simplistic when I formed it, but as soon as we left the bunker, I knew it would need to change was we went along. The crumbling infrastructure and overgrown weeds and grasses were an issue.
It had taken us two days to walk the eight and half miles to the end of the track at Enfield Town in the north of London. We were almost out of the city, but we were moving slower than I had expected. Gregg’s blister was a sign of how unprepared we were for the rigours of the journey and that meant we would likely be slowed even more.
Three days since we had left the bunker, which was three days of eating and drinking from our prepared rations. With the life straws that would allow us to drink from the muddy puddles on the platform outside without much trouble, I didn’t worry about water. Food, though, was another matter.
I’d packed each of us a week’s worth of food. All high energy items that would keep us going as long as possible. It had taken three days to reach the edge of the city and that was just walking. Stopping to scavenge would make it all the harder.
We would hunt and fish, but those took time as well, so our best hope was to search houses along our way. Tinned food could be eaten a half decade past their expiration date if those tins were undamaged.
My hope, then, was to find some of them. However, to do so meant we would need to alter our journey as we moved from town to town, rather than in a straight line. I traced a route on the map with my finger as I considered that and held back an irritated sigh.
“What’s up?” Gregg asked, pulling his sock carefully onto his foot. “You look grumpier than normal.”
“Just trying to plan our journey.”
“Oh? Let’s have it then. Which way are we going?”
I pursed my lips as I shook my head slowly. I wasn’t happy with the change of plan, but it was the best I could come up with.
“We leave here and follow the road west a little way, then north-west straight up to where it connects with the M25 motorway at Potters Bar,” I said. “From there we can follow the motorways west and then north, bringing us up towards the southern end of Birmingham.”
That would be around a hundred miles from where we were and would take us past a number of towns and through enough countryside that we could, hopefully, keep ourselves fed. Though, at the rate we were walking, we would be looking at around a month of travel.
“Why Birmingham?” Abigail was putting away her first aid supplies as she looked up at me, curiosity on her face. “Shouldn’t we avoid the bigger cities?”
“The cities fell quickly,” I pointed out as I folded up the map and slipped it into my backpack. “Then, for the longest time people avoided them because they were full of the undead. If anywhere still has useable things for us to scavenge, it will be the cities.”
“Shouldn’t we be looking around here then?” Gregg asked, nodding towards the block of flats that towered over the train tracks. “Like up there?”
“I plan to. We have a good day, at least, of walking before we reach the motorway and a lot of that will be past houses and buildings that might be untouched.”
“Cool, sounds fun.”
Gregg flashed a grin that raised a smile to my own lips. His almost irrepressible good humour was often annoying, but at times, quite infectious. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
Our good humour held as we gathered our belongings and stepped out into the rain. Each of our thick coats was waterproof and came with a hood, which we all pulled up over our heads. The rain wasn’t particularly chill and the day itself was warm enough for it not to be too annoying.
Enfield Town station was the end of the line and only a small building connected the platform to the rest of the town. Even so, the doors had been locked tight with chain wrapped around the handles and the glass was smeared with what I hoped was old blood.
Dark splotches stained the tiled floor and the familiar odour of old death lingered still. My companions remained silent as I pulled free my hand-axe and shattered the glass doors, the sound echoing from the buildings beyond.
Straight ahead of us, the overgrown hedges and trees that separated the town houses from the road, had spread outwards with no one to clip back their branches and covered much of the main street with insects buzzing around as the lower branches rustled with the passage of small animals.
The road was packed with cars and trucks, occasionally the familiar red bus that was recognisably part of London. They were all still and quiet, many with bodies still strapped into their seats. Tyres flat and covered in a layer of dirt, grass had begun to sprout on some of the car roofs.
Grass grew through the cracked tarmac of the road and I couldn’t help but be surprised at just how quickly nature had begun to supplant the makings of man
kind. A part of me could admire that tenacious ability to spread and wipe away the evidence that people had once made a place for themselves there.
We kept to the pavement, years of ingrained caution hard to displace from our psyche, and kept our voices low when we needed to speak. Gregg kept his head moving constantly, face set and watchful for danger, while Abigail stared wide-eyed at a world she had never expected to see again.
There was likely little need for such caution, but even so, I too kept a watchful eye on our surroundings as we walked, body tense and alert for danger. It was a hard habit to break.
I ignored the shoe shop, the bank, charity shops and takeaways. They would have nothing much of use after so long and could easily become traps for the unwary who went inside the darkened buildings.
We passed an open-air market, the stalls all empty, and a jewellers with shattered windows and jewellery spilt out onto the pavement. Abigail looked curiously at a herbalists, but didn’t seem inclined to stop and no one was interested in the tobacco shop.
After an hour of walking, the road turned to the north-west and we followed it along, past the church that sat beside a pub, and the park a short distance further along. The once well-tended park was an overgrown eyesore, the grass as high as my waist while the trees branches hung out over the road.
A block of flats rose up to my left and I eyed it curiously, considering going inside but deciding against it. Apartments for singles or young couples and less likely to have much in their larders. No, if I were to take the time to loot a place, I would need to choose it carefully to ensure I wasn’t just wasting my time. So, a place that had a good dozen flats to check may not be the best use of my time.
We continued on, and I couldn’t help but notice the way that Gregg began to limp. It wasn’t much at first, but the longer we walked, the more pronounced it became and finally, I had no choice but to address it for he was falling back.
“Take a break,” I said, shrugging off my backpack. “Have something to eat and rest for a bit.”
Gregg didn’t say anything as he set his own pack down and dropped down beside it, face drawn as he stretched out his foot before him. Abigail set her own pack beside his and opened it to get her first aid kit.
I watched them a moment, sitting beneath the overhang of a building that had likely been a business of some sort back before the fall. Whatever it might have been was lost to history and I ignored it once I was sure the doors were secured so nothing could come out behind us.
Further along the road were more shops, and not much use to me right then, but behind them I could just make out some buildings that I took to be homes. There was a side-street a short distance from where we were, so I dropped my pack beside the others and headed towards it.
“Where you going?” Abigail called and I dismissed her question with a wave, reaching the side-street and turning into it.
A short walk and there, as expected, were seven red brick homes with grey slate roof and long overgrown lawn. Cars were parked in front of some of the houses and I ignored those. If people had been inside, hiding from the undead, it was likely they had eaten whatever food they might have had in. My focus, then, were the two houses that looked relatively undisturbed with no cars parked nearby.
The UPVC door on the first of the houses was unlocked and I pushed it open, nose wrinkling from the stale smell of mildew that washed over me. I pulled out my torch and flicked it on while I kept my hand-axe ready. I didn’t expect to use it, but I wasn’t fool enough to pretend I might not need to.
Mould covered the walls and the wallpaper had already begun to peel as nature took its course. The reason for the mould became apparent in the kitchen. Water damage was everywhere, from the floor tiles that had come loose to the way the floor sagged beneath my feet.
My best guess was that a tap had been left on as there were dishes still in the sink. It had run continuously until the water had eventually been cut off. As a result, black mould covered the walls and cupboards and I cursed myself for not bringing the breathing mask with me.
I moved quickly, not wanting to stay and breathe in that mould for too long. The cupboards yielded some small bounty, a handful of tins of vegetables that were well past their expiration date but seemed intact so might be good.
There were plastic carrier bags stuffed beneath the sink and I took a couple of them to carry the tins. I left the packets of rice, their packaging covered in the same mould as the cupboards, and quickly left the house.
I dropped the carrier bags beside the door to the next house and tried the handle. It didn’t move, which was a good sign. The UPVC wasn’t a match for my axe and the door soon swung open. Unlike the previous house, this one seemed intact and I stepped inside cautiously.
Dust covered every surface, rising up into the air with every step I took and once again, I made a note to not enter any more houses without a mask. I stopped by the door to the living toom and stood looking in for a long moment.
He sat in his chair, head back and mouth open. It was hard to tell his age from the desiccated remains, but it was clear that he had taken all of the pills that had been in the containers on the table beside him.
Why he hadn’t turned, I couldn’t say. Perhaps he had been immune, like Cass and Gregg, or had died before he had become infected. Either way, he had made the conscious decision to sit there and take his own life with an overdose.
In his lap were the scraps of fur and bone that had been his loyal companion in life. Judging from the lack of evidence of the dog being locked inside for some time, and the man’s body being undisturbed, it was likely they had died at the same time.
I didn’t disturb their resting place as I went straight to the kitchen and began rooting through the cupboards. More tins to join the ones I already had and some pasta and rice too. The packets were sealed, and I could see no signs of contamination, so figured it was worth taking them too.
My bags full, I headed back to the others and found them waiting where I had left them. Gregg was pulling his boot back on with a grimace, and he looked up at my approach. He gave a curious look at the bags I carried.
“Been shopping without us?”
“More looting than shopping,” I replied, setting the bags down. “Old but might be edible. Will help keep us going at least.”
“So that’s the plan, is it?” Abigail asked, screwing up her nose at the idea of eating expired food.
She hadn’t experienced the hunger that came when food was scarce. That feeling of being willing to eat anything, so hungry were you. She’d learn.
“You get hungry enough and this will seem like a feast,” Gregg said, realising the same thing as I had. “Trust me. We’ve done this before.”
She looked sceptical but didn’t comment, just continued to pack away her things. I divvied up the tins and we added them to our packs before pulling them back on. I looked along the road and held back a sigh.
It was going to be a long and likely very dull journey. There was nothing else for it but to keep on moving though, one foot in front of the other and hope that perhaps something interesting might happen along the way.
I doubted it.
Chapter 5
There was a ring around my neck that wouldn’t seem to go away. The rope had left a mark that would forever proclaim to the world that I had once been hanged. It was not a pleasant feeling, knowing that a moment of absolute terror and despair would be the first thing people noticed when they saw me.
Jinx whined and wagged her tail. I reached down and scratched behind her ears without even thinking about it which raised a smile. She had conditioned me to react automatically to her demands for attention.
Smart pup.
I was beyond pleased to have found that she had survived and the first thing I had done on meeting with her again was bury my face in her fur and weep softly. She had borne it stoically and eventually, licked my face as though to tell me all would be well.
It was a much-needed piece of com
fort and I loved that strange Alsatian all the more for it. She was undeniably Ryan’s companion, having chosen him against his wishes and followed him across the country, fighting at his side.
He had commanded her to stay and look after his family as he left that last time, and stay she had. She had taken wounds to protect us and she was a constant reminder of the man I had loved.
“You ready?” Evie said from the doorway and I turned, plastering on a smile that didn’t meet my eyes.
“As I’ll ever be.”
I stopped in the doorway, looking out at my apartment. It had been my prison for so long that I had thought I would never want to return. But, filled as it was with the laughter of my children as they played, I couldn’t imagine ever leaving again.
Isaac grinned as he tossed Gabriel into the air, my son giggling and shrieking as he kicked his feet in pretend fear, knowing all the while that Isaac would catch him. Even Angeline smiled, something she had always done only rarely. She seemed pleased to be back home with me, which made me smile too.
“I don’t want to leave them.”
“It’s been two weeks,” Evie said, softly. “You have half a dozen of Isaac’s security people and twenty of the Dead guarding them. They are safe here.”
She was right, of course, but even so, they had been taken once before and I found myself not quite willing to trust just yet. I had made each of the black-clad cultists Samuel had set to guard them reveal their hands to me as I inspected the stump where their finger had been. Only when I was sure they were all old wounds, fully healed, was I willing to trust they were loyal to Ryan’s memory.
“You know where I’ll be, yes?”
“Everyone on the island knows where you’ll be,” Evie said, shooing me towards the door. “Now go. Do what you need to do.”
I gave a curt nod and tugged at my skirt. It had been so long since I had worn anything but jeans that the white blouse and navy-blue skirt felt strange to me. Evie had managed to find me some tights from somewhere and some dress shoes.
Killing The Dead | Book 21 | The Journey Home Page 3
