by Helen Harper
Others had left their vehicles. I saw several grim-faced people turn away. One man marched towards the back of the convoy, indicating to the other drivers that they had to start reversing and that the route ahead was impassable.
I exchanged a look with Monroe and continued with him by my side. Naturally, we both wanted to see the problem for ourselves.
Smoke was rising from the middle of the road. At first I thought it was a car crash but when I spotted the mangled rotor blade, which had been ripped clean off, I knew I was wrong. This wasn’t a car crash, it was another helicopter crash – and whoever had been piloting this one hadn’t survived.
‘Third one,’ I heard someone mutter. ‘Third fucking one. I told you we should have left yesterday.’
I stalked up to him. ‘What do you mean by third one?’
He glanced at me balefully. He was only in his early thirties but lack of sleep, wrinkled clothes and general worry about whether he’d live to see the next hour made him look much older. ‘Helicopters,’ he said shortly. ‘One crashed near our house before we left. We saw another come down over to the east and now there’s this one. Even the skies are being attacked.’
I stared at the blackened carcass of the helicopter. ‘Lightning?’ I asked softly.
His eyes dropped and he turned away. ‘Yeah. If lightning can be bright blue.’ He checked his watch. ‘We have to get a move on.’
Monroe and I stood silently, as if both us were sending out a quiet prayer for whoever had perished. Finally he sighed. ‘We can assume that there won’t be more air drops coming our way any time soon. It’s as well we sorted out all those supplies and rations when we had the chance.’
I nodded, still feeling a tight knot of anguish for the person who had died in the crash, whoever they were.
‘Well done,’ Monroe added quietly. I glanced at him, confused. He shrugged awkwardly. ‘You did well to organise us like you did. Now at least we don’t have to worry about the immediate future.’ He turned on his heel, strode back to our little van and opened the back doors.
I gaped after him for a moment and then caught up. ‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s going to take too long to get everyone to reverse out of here. We’ll be faster walking the last section. How far is it?’
I pursed my lips and considered. ‘Half a mile maybe.’ Not far if you were out for an evening stroll with a little handbag, but a fairly long distance when there were massive tree roots, gaping potholes, snarled-up cars and destroyed helicopters en route. Not to mention the dead weight of an unconscious man to carry.
Monroe’s expression didn’t alter. ‘We don’t have a choice.’
I turned back. The man who’d passed us was still trying to make the people behind us reverse so that the road could be cleared and everyone could find an alternative route, but Monroe was right: that wasn’t going to happen. There were too many of us and there was too little time.
‘Hey!’ I yelled. ‘You have to walk it from here! It’s the only way to get out before the city is closed!’
‘I’m not fucking walking,’ a woman shouted back. ‘There’s shit out there that will eat you in a heartbeat. The Army will wait for us. They won’t shut the city down until everyone is out.’
Somehow I doubted that. We’d had more than enough warning to leave. I reckoned that at midnight exactly no one would be permitted to step one foot across whatever border the government had fashioned.
I opened my mouth to argue but Monroe pulled his head out of the van and looked at me. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘They’re not going to listen. I know you want to help them, Charley. Believe me, I know. But yelling at those people will only hold us all up. If you want to save this guy, we set off on foot now. Everyone else will have to make up their own minds.’ His blue eyes met mine. ‘You can’t save everyone,’ he said simply. ‘Sometimes they have to save themselves.’
It felt like my body was being pulled in several different directions at once. On the one hand, Monroe was absolutely right; on the other… I sighed. The pilot moaned softly.
I gave it one last-ditch effort. I had to. ‘The borders will close at midnight!’ I shouted. ‘Anyone not out of the city after that will be unable to leave. If you walk from here, you can make it!’
A few people seemed to heed my words and started to walk quickly past the line of cars towards the city’s edge. Others completely ignored me, still wanting to stay with their cars. There was the crunch of metal on metal as someone reversed into someone else.
I opened my mouth again, but Monroe put his hand on my arm. ‘You’ve done everything you can.’ He raised his eyebrows meaningfully.
I walked over to the van. Monroe sidestepped to allow me access and we carefully lifted the pilot out, me at his feet and Monroe at his head. The werewolf might have had the strength to carry the pilot’s body a small distance on his own, but he’d never manage it all the way. We had to do this together. We exchanged a grim look of mutual agreement and set off at an awkward, albeit steady, jog.
It took longer than I’d anticipated. Getting past the still-burning helicopter was incredibly tricky, given that it spanned the full width of the road. It was only when I managed to conjure up a push of magic to jolt it enough to clear a narrow path that we manoeuvred our way past it. Monroe’s brilliant blue eyes were streaming with smoke-induced tears when we made it.
Beyond that, although the bright lights of the evacuation point were so powerful that they illuminated the road ahead, it was just as hard to keep going. There was more carnage to traverse, with abandoned cars littering every spare inch of space. If we’d been on our own it would have been difficult; carrying the pilot – and trying not to jostle him too much – meant that our progress was very slow indeed. Still, I was heartened when a couple of people stopped and asked us if we needed help. Monroe might have snarled at them in response, but it pleased me that humanity still possessed a warm pulse of kindness. I smiled and thanked each Samaritan, and I glared at Monroe when he huffed at them.
Somehow we made it with time to spare. A steady stream of people were queuing in front of us and, worryingly, being met by officials with clipboards. It wasn’t actually the clipboards that concerned me, it was the head-to-toe hazmat suits that were terrifying. Was magic contagious? Given what the sphere had done to me, it was certainly possible.
The evacuees were directed to a large tent to the left of the motorway. There were no helicopters overhead – no doubt they’d already learned that tragic lesson – but there were plenty of soldiers and tanks and guns waiting not far beyond us. Very big guns. I swallowed. Suddenly all this shit seemed very real indeed.
When it was our turn, a pair of eyes shielded by plastic blinked at us and a muffled voice from beyond the hazmat helmet asked, ‘Name and date of birth?’
I shook my head. ‘We’re not leaving.’ I pointed at the unmoving pilot. ‘We’re giving you him. He needs urgent medical attention.’
The slightly blurry eyes flicked downwards then a gloved hand rose and he yelled, ‘We need help here!’
Several more white-suited figures jogged up. The nearest one started barking questions while the others grabbed our makeshift stretcher and took the pilot away. I watched him go. I didn’t know anything about him, I didn’t even know his name, but I really hoped he was going to make it.
‘What happened?’
‘Who is he?’
‘How long was he in the contamination zone for?’
My head swivelled from figure to figure. Contamination zone? Was that the best name they could think of for Manchester nowadays? I licked my lips, ready to answer as best as I could, but Monroe reached for me and hauled me back. A split second later there were several shouts and the sound of running feet. From round the back of the large tent, a group of people appeared. They weren’t wearing camouflage or white suits with big helmets, and they were strolling calmly towards the border and ignoring the guns that were suddenly pointed in their direction.
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‘They must be looking for lost relatives,’ I blurted out without thinking.
Monroe tutted in my ear and pulled me against him, one arm tight around my waist. ‘Don’t be so fucking naïve.’
I wriggled against his grip. ‘But…’
‘Look again.’
I frowned and peered. There was something oddly familiar about the group. They looked very similar to… ‘Julie,’ I gasped.
‘Probably her long-lost relatives,’ Monroe muttered.
‘Vampires?’ I gaped. ‘There must be thirty of them!’
‘Try forty-three.’ He pulled me further back until we were shielded out of sight of the still-waiting evacuees. We watched as the undead posse strolled forward without a care in the world, as if several hundred gigantic guns weren’t currently pointing in their direction.
‘Halt!’
The vampires ignored the yelled command and kept on walking. It was only when they drew level with the tent that one of them pulled ahead. He had slicked-back hair and an old-fashioned tweed suit; he was even carrying a large suitcase. With dawning realisation, I finally twigged what was going on.
‘We want in,’ he said in a loud voice with a strong northern accent. Apparently vampires live in rural Yorkshire. Who knew? ‘We demand to be allowed access.’
Six hazmat-covered figures marched in front of the group; five of them were carrying guns.
‘Do bullets hurt vampires?’ I whispered to Monroe.
‘They did before all this,’ he said back. ‘But what things are like for the fanged bastards now is anybody’s guess.’
As if to add credence to Monroe’s words, the lead vampire smiled slowly with closed lips and raised his hands. He turned them around slowly, as if seeing them for the first time. ‘Even here on the outskirts of the city I can feel the difference,’ he murmured. ‘The buzz of magic is extraordinary.’
He opened his mouth and displayed a set of very sharp, very white fangs. The vampires behind him did the same.
‘Well,’ I muttered, ‘that’s not creepy at all.’
Apparently I wasn’t the only one fazed by the performance. ‘You cannot enter,’ said one of the soldiers, with a tremor in his voice that his helmet couldn’t disguise.
‘Do you really think you can stop us?’ the vampire enquired. ‘Why would you want to?’
The bloodsucker made a good point. He’d already revealed himself to be a monster. Surely Monster Manchester would be the ideal place for him and his kind. Not that I wanted them here. Hell, I’d prefer them to be as far away from me as possible.
‘If you are letting them in,’ declared another loud voice, this time in a Geordie accent as if every corner of the country was demanding to be recognised, ‘you must grant us access too.’
By my side, Monroe sucked in a sharp breath. I glanced at him. For the first time since he’d shifted back into human form in my spare bedroom, he looked ashen.
‘What is it?’
He ignored me and stepped away, striding up to the nearest soldiers. As a second group of about twenty people came into view, they all raised their heads and sniffed the air before looking directly at Monroe. As if they were one amorphous mass rather than distinct individuals, they inclined their heads in a gesture that could only be described as respect. My mouth dropped open.
‘Werewolves,’ I whispered. ‘I bet they’re all werewolves.’
I flicked my eyes from left to right. Any minute now, dragons, leprechauns, trolls, wizards, bunyips and magical fuckers from every part of the world were about to show up. I rubbed my eyes. Talk about bloody Madchester.
Chapter Nineteen
The soldiers let the vampires and werewolves in. Of course they did – they had no good reason not to, especially when several of the werewolves began spontaneously shifting because of their proximity to such a magical atmosphere. Besides, the Army had enough problems on their hands dealing with the last-minute rush to leave the city; they didn’t need to waste their energy preventing supernatural creatures from entering the city.
I shook my head in dismay. The government would have enough evidence now to cordon off the city for decades. It didn’t make me want to join the other evacuees, but it did make me feel depressed.
Monroe wasted no time in abandoning me in favour of striding over to the wolves and engaging them in deep conversation. The vampires wasted no time in sprinting down the road and into the city.
I hung back and watched as the soldiers ushered everyone out of the way and started planting what could only be explosives along the road. To the left and right there were already makeshift fences with lethal-looking barbed wire across them. We really were being treated as if we were contaminated.
A few people who’d been caught in the helicopter crash traffic jam finally appeared, running and panting heavily. Several scary-looking guns swung at them and the soldiers gestured to the explosives on the ground.
‘Get back! You all have to get back!’
Wisely, I did as they suggested; I wasn’t going to risk being blown to smithereens. Even as the last hopefuls were darting forward, the explosives were set off, destroying the road – and the way out – with a roaring boom. There was a cloud of choking dust. There were several shrieks of despair. My heart wrenched.
‘They’ve spent the last twenty-four hours barricading off the entire city,’ murmured a voice next to me. ‘Now there’s almost no way out. There are going to be patrols and checks and goodness knows what else. Those people who got out are going to be held in isolation until everyone is sure that the magic isn’t contagious.’
It was Anna. I turned and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow and tapped her nose. ‘Between you and me, the government is keeping one road open over to the east so they can gain quick access to the city if they need to. It’s not going to be advertised, but we can still leave that way if we need to. There was too much of a hue and cry from Parliament at the prospect of Manchester being cut off completely. Of course, anyone who chooses to use the road will be shoved into even lengthier isolation, so it’s a last resort.’ She smiled at me. ‘Not that it looks like you’re going to use that exit route any more than this one.’
That was interesting – and potentially useful – information. ‘Apparently I’m not alone in staying. You’re still here.’
She smiled slightly. ‘Do you think you’ll regret it?’
I only had one regret and his name was Joshua; I didn’t permit myself any others. ‘No,’ I told her. ‘This is my city and I’m not leaving.’
‘A woman after my own heart.’ She nodded at Monroe. ‘So that sexy bastard is still here. Is he with you?’
I watched as one of the werewolves slung an arm round Monroe’s shoulder. ‘Not any more,’ I answered quietly. ‘He’s found his tribe. What about you? Do you have somewhere to go? I’m forming my own tribe back at home. We have houses available and plenty of supplies. I’m guessing with all the evacuation stuff you’ve been working for others instead of yourself. You’re very welcome to join us.’
She pursed her lips and considered. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘that’d be fabulous.’
I gave her a quick grin then straightened my shoulders and joined Monroe. He didn’t even glance in my direction. Several of the werewolves did though, and none of them looked impressed; in fact, I received several very definite lip curls. Whatever. I’d been on the receiving end of far worse, and my ego wasn’t so sensitive that a couple of bad looks were going to make me curl up and cry.
‘Monroe,’ I said quietly. ‘Anna and I are heading back home. You’re welcome to come with us of course. And your … friends too. It’s up to you.’
He snapped his attention away from the group. ‘Who the hell is Anna?’
‘She is.’ I nodded at her.
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’ve seen her before.’
‘She’s a police officer. She came to my house before. You know, when Lizzy was,’ I cast around for the right word, ‘different.’
‘Oh yes.’ He sniffed. ‘So you’re going to offer her a bed because you’ve already met her once before? Because she’s with the police doesn’t make her a good person. It doesn’t mean she won’t stab you in the back in the middle of the night. You have to stop collecting strays.’ His voice grew more caustic. ‘It’s going to get you killed.’
‘I’ve worked with her for years. She’s perfectly sane and highly unlikely to stab anyone.’
Monroe’s jaw tightened. ‘I thought you were a cleaner. Since when do you work with the police?’
I sighed. ‘Since I started cleaning for them.’
One of the younger werewolves, a dark-haired fellow with the sort of attitude that seemed to come with wolf territory, snorted disdainfully. ‘You’re a cleaner? You can scrub my floors any time, darling.’
Idiot. I rolled my eyes and started to turn away. Monroe stepped in. ‘Shut up.’ He said it quietly, but the underlying menace in his tone was so palpable that I moved back an inch. That was nothing compared to the young wolf who’d spoken; his cheeks were suffused bright red and he dropped his head and shoulders before skulking backwards. Man. Perhaps there was something to be said for Monroe’s arrogant superiority after all.
‘This is Charley,’ Monroe continued, ‘the Enchantress of Manchester. She has more power in her little finger than you could ever hope to possess. She deserves your respect. If you ever speak to her that way again, I’ll cut off your right bollock.’
Rather terrifyingly, I believed that he would. ‘I’m sure that’s not necessary,’ I murmured.
‘I hope not,’ Monroe murmured. ‘What a shame it would be to deny the world more baby arseholes like this one.’
Okaaaay, then.
A tall man with silver strands in his hair eyed me. ‘I’m Julian,’ he said. ‘Alpha of this pack. Such as it is. On Nero’s behalf, I apologise sincerely.’
I managed a small smile. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ What the hell else was I supposed to say to a werewolf? I glanced at Monroe. ‘Anna and I are going now.’
