Day Sixteen - Part Two (Season 3)
Author: R R Haywood
Date: 2014-12-24 00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Zombie Apocalypse
Description: The Undead Day Sixteen concludes....The Undead Day Sixteen Part Two **
Publisher: 1899 Inc Ltd

The Undead

Day Sixteen
Part Two

RR Haywood

Copyright © R. R. Haywood 2014

R. R. Haywood asserts his moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

All Rights reserved.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters and events, unless those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead (or undead), is purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Design, Cover and Illustration by Eduardo Garay.

Edited by Rachael Brimstone.

For the pre-readers.

There are only five of you, but without your feedback I would be lost.

Thank you.

RR Haywood

The story so far

Day Sixteen.

Howie recovered from his fractured mind in time to lead the team in the battle for the munitions factory.

Blowers was bitten on the arm but found he too is immune.

Prophetic words spoken by Marcy show true as Lani is torn.

Defending the rear door against an overwhelming surge of undead and she offered her life so that Howie may survive.

Injuries sustained that may prove to be too much for Lani to survive.

A desperate race to get back to the fort but the promised safety may not be the refuge they seek

Day Sixteen.

Jess and I remain in the stable block we found after fleeing the horde that found us hiding in the arts centre.

On higher ground with a good view and damned if I’m going back out there today. It’s too much. All of it is too much and as my panic subsides so I am left with frayed nerves and my stomach cramping in fear.

My god I knew it would be hard, but nothing like this. How can I even hope to continue my search for those with immunity if I am to face such peril at every turn? Writing these diary entries is the only way to calm my thoughts and bring order back to my mind.

Besides, and I know this is a reason I cling to and a process of self-justification for my paltry cowardice but Jess galloped flat out for a great distance and resting her now is the right thing to do. I rely on her for survival so even if I wanted to go back out there, which I do not, but even if I so desired to venture out into that danger, it would be on a tired horse. Having said that, Jess appears not the least bit tired, if anything she appears somewhat pepped up by the whole experience.

I must take this period to reflect on what I have learnt;

*they are massing in a town

I do not know the reasons for this massing. It could be something as simple as there having been a festival or event within the town at the time of the infection being released, and therefore a greater population within one place.

However, their desire to infect should be driving them to seek more hosts. Therefore something is holding them there. They are there for a reason.

*there appeared to be smaller groups noticeably separated from each other but all within the greater nucleus of the horde.

The virus will evolve. We knew that.

The virus will also be manipulated and changed as it evolves. What infects one person may be changed to something different within another. There will be many millions who suffer the same symptoms and change in exactly the same way. But we also knew there would be fewer numbers within the population who would not be affected in the same way, those who’s natural anti-bodies would cause a slower rate of infection or repel the virus to an extent the virus would change and they too would change.

Like the cup of coffee I am drinking now. The coffee was one thing. The water another. They were separate and unique but once put together the chemical reaction changes them both to produce something else.

Those manipulations are the most dangerous, the single most dangerous threat to our species that has ever been known.

Only one test subject showed a manipulation and that was terrifying beyond compare and was the reason I reached my decision to bug out from the project and undertake this perilous activity.

Even the thought of that test subject sends shivers down my spine as the memories come spilling back. The intelligence. The cunning. The emotional range that could be understood and played with. The absolute lack of hesitancy for the sanctity of life.

If there is one here, within that town, that has that form of manipulated virus within him or her, then to be blunt, we are all fucked doomed.

But the plan must remain. I must seek the immune and work through my list.

But not today. Today I have done enough and today I will cower in this stable block until my stomach cramps ease and I can hold the coffee cup without trembling so much it spills out.

NB

One…

‘Shit…’

‘WHAT!?’

‘Go faster.’

‘Why? Roy…why are you telling me to go faster?’

‘Focus on the road, boss,’ Clarence twists in his seat to stare back into the rear of Saxon.

‘What?’ Gripping the wheel I try and peer behind me but the speed I’m travelling makes it too dangerous to take my eyes off the debris strewn road.

‘KEEP IT STILL,’ Roy shouts.

‘Fuck…what’s happening?’ I ask Clarence, ‘Clarence…tell me…’

‘Looks like she’s stopped breathing,’ Clarence’s voice is calm, deep and measured, ‘pull over, let me drive.’

The urge is to stamp on the brake but that will send everyone flying forward and the Saxon is weighed down with tons of ammunition crates plus most of the team. I ease my foot off the accelerator and gently apply the brake.

‘Roy’s working on her…chest compressions…he’s doing well, Paula is doing mouth to mouth…Let me drive,’ he repeats.

‘No,’ I know this beast and even though the dirty infected hands of the undead have defiled her I have faith in the countless hours I’ve spent behind this wheel.

The engine roars as I increase the pressure of my right foot on the accelerator but the noise has become so familiar to me now that I don’t hear it. Just the silence of the vehicle as all eyes rest on Roy.

‘Try now,’ Roy says in measured tones.

‘Try what?’ I ask Clarence, urging him to give me a commentary.

‘Paula’s checking for a pulse…one of you find a mirror.’ Clarence calls out.

‘A mirror?’ Cookey replies, ‘what for?’

‘See if it mists,’ Roy says, ‘the vibration of the vehicle is making it hard to feel for a pulse…you saw that movie too then?’

‘I did,’ Clarence says. A brief exchange by the two older men that conveys a competence and unflappable nature to the younger members of the team.

‘Where the fuck we gonna find a mirror from?’ Cookey asks.

‘My bag, or Lani’s,’ Paula replies, ‘women always have a mirror.’

‘Got it,’ I hear Jagger’s voice exclaim then people shuffling as the mirror is passed along the chain.

‘Anything?’ I ask Clarence, forcing the same level of calm into my voice.

‘Hang on,’ he says quietly, ‘Paula is checking now…’

Seconds. That’s all it is but they go on forever. I grip the wheel and focus on the road ahead. Cars, vans and all manner of vehicles left abandoned. Tree trunks, power cables and telegraph poles ripped up by the storm and dumped in the carriageway. The big wheels of the Saxon have no difficulty dealing with the millions of bits of shit littered about but the bigger stuff needs negotiating and if I go fast it will cause the vehicle to swerve but going slow feels the wrong thing to do.

‘Yes,’ Paula says, ‘misting…but only just.’

‘Thank fuck,’ I let out a gasp of air as I realise I was holding my breath.

‘Listen,’ Roy speaks up so we can all hear him, ‘she’s only just hanging on…so be prepared.’

‘For what?’ I call back.

‘Losing her,’ he replies in a tone of voice so matter of fact it makes my stomach flip.

‘Not happening,’ I mutter the words under my breath and focus on the road. Gentle movements as I steer the heavily laden vehicle down the main road towards the motorway. Silence. Nobody speaks.

Lani is torn.

…but know this, not everyone will survive this journey, Howie…

How did she know? Was it even Marcy or just a manifestation of my own mind? But how the hell would I know Lani was at the back door or that someone would get bitten.

‘How’s your arm, Blowers?’

‘Fine, boss.’

‘Arm? What’s up with your arm?’ Clarence calls back.

‘Got bit,’ Blowers says in a clipped voice.

‘Bitten? You got bitten?’ Clarence twists to see the young lad better, ‘are you okay?’

‘Immune,’ he gives the one word reply too bereft with worry to say more.

Clarence’s jaw drops for a second before he recovers his wits. One big hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

‘Five now,’ he says.

‘You sure you were bitten?’ Roy asks, ‘can I see.’

‘I was bitten,’ Blowers says, ‘the fucker put his teeth on me.’

‘And it broke the skin? Yes…yes I can see,’ Roy must be examining the wound, ‘you were bitten,’ he says dully.

‘Five of us,’ Cookey says, ‘what does that mean?’

‘What?’ Blowers asks.

‘Five of us in one group. Why us? Why are we immune?’

‘Roy,’ Paula’s voice is urgent, ‘look.’

‘At what?’ I ask Clarence.

‘Can’t see,’ Clarence twists round to lean over the back of the seat, ‘what is it?’ He asks.

‘Yes. Yes I see,’ Roy says.

‘See what?’ I call out.

‘Her wounds are congealing faster than they normally would,’ Roy replies, ‘they’re fresh wounds that should be bleeding but…but they’re not.’

‘You dressed them,’ I shout back, ‘how can you tell?’

‘The blood should have seeped through, especially the deep one on her thigh. I’ve just checked it.’

‘And?’

‘Like I said, it’s already scabbing over.’

‘Scabbing?’ Clarence says, ‘that wouldn’t happen.’

‘It is happening,’ Roy says, ‘her body still carries the infection.’

‘Mate, that’s an assumption to make,’ Blowers says.

‘Blowers, show Roy your knuckles,’ I shout.

‘Knuckles?’ Clarence asks, ‘why knuckles?’

‘Blowers was punching them,’ I reply for him knowing Clarence and Dave had already told Blowers never to use his fists to fight the undead, ‘but to be fair Dave was in the room punching me in the face while I was sleeping so…’

‘Scabs,’ Roy says.

‘Scabs? Fucking scabs?’ I call back, ‘mate, I cannot see what you are doing…be more specific please.’

‘Sorry,’ he says quickly, ‘I am examining Blowers hands. The knuckles are cut in several places from punching. Those cuts are scabbed.’

‘Is that not right?’

‘No, Mr Howie. They’re small cuts so they would heal quickly but the scabs are drying out as though these wounds are maybe one or two days old.’

‘Anyone else cut?’ I ask.

‘Yeah, everywhere,’ Mo Mo says.

‘Me too,’ Jagger adds.

‘My hands are cut,’ Clarence looks down at the backs of his splayed hands.

‘Are you scabbing yet?’ I glance across.

‘Shit!’ Paula shouts, ‘not breathing.’

‘Okay, hold her head,’ Roy shuffles into place as he starts the chest compressions for the second time and once again the tension in the vehicle ramps up.

‘Come on, Lani,’ Paula speaks softly with her head bent down to Lani’s ear, ‘come on, love. Breathe…you’ve got to breathe…Cookey, hold that mirror there.’

‘No point,’ Roy says quickly, ‘the compressions will be forcing air out of her mouth.’

‘Sorry,’ Paula says, ‘I didn’t think.’

‘How far?’ Roy calls out louder.

‘Er…’ Christ I have no idea where we are and have just been following the road.

‘Nick, you hearing me?’ Clarence grabs the radio handset from the front.

‘Has he got a radio?’ I ask.

‘I gave him one,’ Clarence replies.

‘This is Dave. Go ahead, Clarence.’

‘Dave, ask Nick for an ETA.’

‘Standby…Nick says ten to fifteen minutes.’

‘We don’t have ten to fifteen minutes,’ Roy says calmly, ‘we’re going to need a defib.’

‘Options?’ Clarence asks the vehicle.

‘Find a hospital,’ Jagger shouts out.

‘No power,’ I call back.

‘Nick can get the power on,’ Paula says.

‘Too long, it means finding a hospital, finding a defib…getting the power on and…’

‘Police cars got ‘em,’ Mo Mo says, ‘and custody blocks too.’

‘Shopping centres,’ Blowers says.

‘I’m hearing you,’ I say, ‘but we don’t have time to find one. We need doctors and the only place we know where there are doctors is the fort. We head to the fort. Roy, keep working. If the infection is in her she…’

‘She’s back,’ Roy announces, ‘again.’

‘Fuck me,’ Blowers says, ‘is she breathing on her own?’

‘Yes,’ Roy says, ‘and to be honest this is unheard of.’

‘What is?’ I ask.

‘CPR can keep a body functioning until medical help arrives but it doesn't normally bring someone back when they’ve stopped breathing. Not like that…not twice…’

‘Infection?’ Clarence asks as if Roy suddenly knows all the answers.

‘I don’t know,’ Roy replies, ‘but if we think it through…we can inflict serious damage on the infected and they pay no heed at all. Their wounds heal faster or at least they clot faster so they don’t bleed out and they have no known pain threshold.’

‘I don’t think now is the time for this, Roy,’ Paula says gently, ‘not right now.’

‘Why not?’ He asks.

‘Because one of our team is badly hurt,’ she says.

‘I am merely trying to work out her chances of survival.’

‘Do it in your head then, mate,’ Blowers says and I was expecting a tone filled with aggression but instead he’s as exhausted and drained as everyone else.

‘Boss,’ Clarence speaks over the small gap to me, ‘is it worth getting Nick to go ahead so he can get a boat ready and…’

‘No mate, we’re not splitting up.’

‘Boss,’ he says seriously, ‘Dave is with Nick and you’re with us…nothing can hurt us now.’

‘Fuck mate,’ I glance across, ‘you being serious? I’m not like Dave.’

‘Better get ready to sack me,’ he lifts the handset up, ‘Nick, Dave…Lani is in a bad way. Get there and arrange medivac…receive?’

‘Roger. Understood,’ Dave’s flat tone amplifies over the speaker and we watch the small lighter van gather speed as the distance between us gets larger.

Two

‘And then what?’

‘Like I said. It was so clear. So very clear. Like it was actually happening. Do you ever get that?’

‘Me? Gosh no. Oh no. No my dreams invariably have me running from something, or hiding from something,’ he tilts his tidy head to one side, ‘or running and hiding as some beastly monsters get closer and closer and…’

‘Reggie!’

‘Reginald. My point is, Marcy. It was a dream. Just a dream.’

‘Perhaps,’ she sighs, ‘but I knew. I knew where Lani was. I knew she was in danger and I knew she would be hurt…how did I know that?’

‘A dream, my dear Marcy. Just a dream. I should imagine Mr Howie and his intrepid group are holed up somewhere being heroic while slaughtering the living challenged with blunt teaspoons,’ Reginald sighs for effect and adjusts his tie to make sure the knot is just so, ‘anyway, what are we to do? You are looking much better, really much better.’

‘Thank you,’ Marcy smiles.

‘Really, the infection shows no signs on you. Other than the red eyes of course but…no…no decaying skin, no sickly grey pallor. In fact, if anything my dear, you look positively radiant. You’re not pregnant are you?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Pregnant. I read somewhere that pregnant women get the same healthy glow about their complexion. Probably from an influx of hormones or some such thing.’

‘No, Reggie. I am not pregnant.’

‘Are you sure?’ He persists politely, adjusting his glasses and once again checking his tie, ‘I mean. You and Darren had relations didn’t you?’

‘Relations?’

‘Yes, relations.’

‘What are relations?’

‘You know full well what relations are. You are teasing me again which is most unkind of you.’

‘Truly I don’t know the term.’

‘Marcy, that innocent look will not work on me.’

‘Reggie, I do not know the term, what does relations mean?’

‘You know,’ he flusters, ‘the thing a man and er…’ he blusters, ‘the interaction between members of the opposite er…gender….that er….’ He blushes and checks his tie, ‘that results in offspring.’

‘Sex. Sex Reggie. You can say the word sex.’

‘Good lord woman, no need to go blurting it out a hundred times. Is there no decorum left?’

‘Did you mean sex?’

‘Yes!’

‘Reggie, men and men can have sex you know.’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘You said it is a thing that members of the opposite gender do. Men and men have sex just as much as women and women.’

‘No. I meant they do it for the result of offspring. To copulate. To reproduce.’

‘Oh. Not for pleasure then.’

‘Oh the thought of it,’ he squirms and looks away with distaste, ‘all that sweating and grunting about like animals. Gosh, gosh no.’

‘Hmmm, yes Darren and I had sex but no, I am not pregnant.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Reggie. A woman has ways of knowing.’

‘Ah, the menstrual cycle. You have commenced your menstrual cycle.’

‘My menstrual cycle as you put it,’ she smiles warmly, ‘has been and gone.’

‘Good lord,’ Reginald sits bolt upright even more than his naturally perfect posture, ‘you mean to say you are still having menstruation?’

‘Yes, Reggie. I am still a woman.’

‘Well,’ he snorts as though having been told something incredible yet somewhat slightly distasteful, ‘indeed. Yes it appears the infection has had very little effect on you.’

‘Lucky me,’ she smiles wanly.

‘I say,’ the dapper little man rallies with a burst of energy, ‘I have a grand idea. A positively grand idea if I may by so bold as to…’

‘Is it the one that involves you and me going north?’

‘North?’

‘Yes. North. The northern plan that takes us away from the fort and this area. The one that involve finding a nice little cottage in a valley where we can rest and recover from this horrid little event.’

‘Well,’ he huffs, ‘yes, that was my grand idea but I can see you still have the same level of scorn as previously.’

‘Not scorn, Reggie. I am not scornful of you but we are waiting here.’

‘For what my dear Marcy? For what are we waiting for? For Mr Howie? No good shall come of this.’

She stays quiet in reflection, unable to explain why she waits or indeed what for. A factual certainty within her that compels them to remain close.

She looks down at her hands and examines the skin she knows so well. The ridges and bumps of the knuckles and the smooth, almost perfectly unblemished skin that remains a healthy olive complexion. Turning her hands over she looks down at the veins visible on the inside of the wrist and how normal they appear. Not a sign on her. Other than the red eyes of course.

Her hair is as lustrous as ever. Her lips as full. Her skin as soft and radiant as it was before. The bite mark on her backside caused when Darren turned her is almost healed.

She shudders at the memory of it. Like any woman with a mistake in her past she cannot fathom what the attraction was.

He turned her so in effect he controlled her. But when he died that connection ceased. Since then she has felt a growing sense of her own mind being in control of her body.

What she is. What she carries. It is the answer. How she can remain herself with no desire to kill or hurt. No thirst for blood or drive to pass the infection on. She heals faster than she should do. She is healthy and feels physically well. Her heart beats strong.

The infection is wrong. The minute the last human is turned is the first minute of the beginning of the end. As the host bodies decay and die, so too will the infection within.

But what she has. What she carries is different and she knows Howie is the key.

Or is he?

She shifts position and stares out of the window of the top floor of the three storey house on the edge of the bay. The surface of the sea glitters like diamonds with the reflection of the sun. The little boats in the distance that carry yet more survivors to the fort. The stick figures of people holding weapons that guard what they’ve salvaged in this torn world.

Lani is torn.

In the dream she knew Lani was in peril and desperately wanted to warn Howie. The cryptic message was not of her own design but the words the Marcy in the dream uttered while the Marcy that slept murmured quietly while a fretful Reginald watched over her.

She knew Blowers would be bitten. She knew one would take him on the arm. She knew Dave was watching over Howie. She knew Clarence was faltering and she knew Howie didn’t want to go back. She sensed he felt compelled because he knew an attack was happening but within his heart he had given up.

The most enduring feeling of the dream was the tidal wave of energy that pulsed through her when she glimpsed him through the inert ranks of the host bodies.

It tingled and made her heart beat faster. Butterflies in her stomach that flipped over with a pleasant sensation. Her mouth was dry. Her throat felt a little constricted with an almost breathless dizziness that passed the second she stepped out to speak to him.

She could have taken him right there. He was ready for the taking. He was ready to give up and the right words from her would have meant he would never wake up.

‘Hello?’

‘Huh?’ She shakes her head then chuckles at the sight of Reggie rolling his eyes and sighing deeply.

‘I was talking to you,’ he says reproachfully.

‘I know,’ she lies, ‘I was listening.’

‘Were you? Indeed I think not. Moreover I think perhaps your rather beautiful head was full of fanciful ideas of running through fields of flowers hand in hand with Mr Howie.’

She bursts out laughing and snorts through her nose, ‘what?’

‘Yes, well. Mark my words, no good shall come of this.’

‘Reggie, your words are endearing and if I did not know you better I would say you were jealous.’

‘Jealous? Good gosh I am not jealous. I think you are beautiful yes but in the same manner I find a particular work of art beautiful. Just because I have admiration in the pleasure of a thing does mean I want to…well, do what men do to other er…well, that is to say men and men and women and women and of course the traditional men and women coupling that…my point is, I rather pride myself that my emotions are not solely base emotions.’

‘Did you just call me a thing?’

He stops talking and holds still for a second, ‘the complexity of your gender will forever be beyond my understanding. Of all the words I uttered and you heard only the part that may have caused you offence.’

‘So did you?’

‘Yes,’ he says with a firm nod, ‘I called you a thing.’

‘Reggie. I am not a thing,’ she says with a mock cold edge to her voice.

‘We are all but things, my dear.’

‘A thing is an inanimate object,’ she fixes him with a look.

He shifts and narrows his eyes, ‘and surely, if you pursue this current course of action I fear it will render us both as inanimate objects as we are clearly displaying an inability to think coherently.’

‘Show off,’ she tuts and turns back to the window, ‘I bet you were a right pain in the arse in the old world.’

‘So another day we shall spend gazing longingly out of a window,’ he sighs again, ‘my mind requires stimulation and exercise.’

‘Go for a run.’

‘My mind not my body.’

‘Go for a mind run.’

‘What, may I ask, is a mind run?’

‘I have no idea,’ she stands up quickly, ‘come on then.’

‘What? Where? Don’t just stand up and walk off without telling me why. Oh you cause me palpitations, palpitations of the stomach!’

‘Do you need the toilet?’

‘No. I do not need the toilet.’

‘Jolly good, I say,’ she says in a voice that belies a decision made and a mind made up.

‘Marcy…Marcy…’ Reginald rushes from the room to traipse down the stairs behind her, ‘where are we going? Do I need to pack?’

‘Pack?’ She says without turning, ‘we didn’t bring anything.’

‘I have been foraging and as luck would have it, some of the menfolk of this region were of a similar size and taste of adornments as I.’

‘No…yes…yes if you want to pack then do so.’

‘Oh my gosh. Packing means moving. Moving means going to the fort. I do not want to go to the fort.’

‘Stay here then.’

‘I cannot. You know I cannot. I am tied to you.’

She stops and examines the space between them with a raised eyebrow, ‘you are not tied to me.’

‘That is not what…’

‘I release you,’ she states and starts heading down the next flight of stairs, ‘you are free to go and find a Mrs Reggie to make baby Reggies with.’

‘If only it were that easy,’ he mutters, ‘really, do I have no say in our decision making?’

‘Of course you do,’ she says with a laugh, ‘but whether I choose to listen is something else entirely.’

‘To the fort then,’ he says glumly, ‘we are going to the fort where we shall either be executed on sight or held as medical and scientific subjects to be examined and prodded with sharp pointy things.’

‘Probably.’

‘Probably? Which one?’

‘Probably both. Probably executed and then prodded with sharp pointy things.’

‘I do not wish to be executed nor prodded with sharp pointy things. I wish to remain here in a calm and peaceful manner. I also do not wish to go in one of those little boats or be near the men and women armed with guns. I do not want to see Clarence or the other men after what happened. Really, I am ashamed at what happened. Really, I cannot…’

‘You got drunk, Reginald. Blind stinking drunk and you were singing songs before passing out.’

‘My dear, Marcy. Please. Please stop and listen one last time.’

‘Okay,’ she stops and turns with one hand resting on the lock of the front door, ‘go ahead.’

‘We have tried this,’ he speaks openly with genuine honesty, ‘we went there and tried this. It did not work. It will not work now. We are not their kind anymore. They do not want us. They will kill us. Please. I am appealing to any sense remaining in your delightful head to reconsider this.’

‘Reggie,’ she reaches out to gently adjust his tie, ‘you care for me and for that I am eternally grateful. Please, you can go anywhere you want or stay here. I do not want to hurt you or be the cause of you getting hurt. But I have to do this.’

‘Fine,’ he sags and softly scoots her hand off his tie, ‘so be it. We shall walk to our deaths and…of course I will go with you,’ he adds with a sudden earnest glance up at her face.

‘Oh Reggie.’

‘But only because I am more terrified of being here by myself.’

‘Fine!’ She opens the door and strides out.

‘I mean what if those awful things come back.’

‘The zombies?’

‘The living challenged,’ he corrects her quickly, ‘or people. Gosh, March. It appears both sides probably hate us equally now.’

‘So you’re as popular now as you were in the last life then.’

‘Cutting,’ he tuts, ‘wholly cutting. And besides, without Mr Howie there how do you know they won’t kill us on sight?’

‘They will. But Howie is coming back now.’

‘He is? And you know this how?’

‘Because of the dream. They were in a munitions factory. I told you that.’

‘We are basing everything…indeed the very basis of our lives on a dream.’

‘Yes, Reggie.’

‘Reginald. Did you eat cheese before going to bed? I know cheese can cause lucid dreams.’

‘There is no cheese, Reggie.’

‘Or any dairy products in general?’

‘No.’

‘Perhaps you were dehydrated. Yes, a vision or hallucination caused by…’

‘I am not dehydrated. I drank a pint of water before going to sleep and woke up needing the toilet.’

‘Well perhaps you once took LSD then. Yes, I have heard accounts of people that have taken LSD later in life suffer severe delusional encounters.’

‘I have never taken LSD. I have never taken Cocaine. I have never taken any drugs.’

‘We must surely reflect and find the root…’

‘Reggie!’

‘Reginald.’

‘Stop it, Reggie. We are going to the fort. Now, do I look okay?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said, do I look okay?’

‘Oh,’ he rolls his eyes, ‘of course, yes of course. We want to look our best for the great Mr Howie.’

‘Yes. Now do I look okay?’

‘Yes,’ he sighs, ‘you look splendid but may I suggest you do one more button up on your blouse.’

‘My boobs are too big,’ she looks down at her own cleavage, ‘it’ll pop off if I breathe in.’

‘Find a bigger blouse then.’

‘I like this one,’ she pouts playfully, ‘it’s got red checks, red suits me.’

‘Hello?’

The both spin at the voice calling out. An instinct to run and hide. Reginald freezes on the spot. Marcy grabs the sunglasses hanging from one stem on the back pocket of her jeans and makes as though to shield her eyes with her hand.

‘Cover your eyes,’ she mutters and watches as a man steps out from the side garden passage of a house. He pauses and goes to move back then stops and holds positon. Nervous. Worried.

‘What with?’ Reginald asks quietly.

‘Can you hear me? The man calls out.

‘Yes,’ Marcy shouts back and quickly looks round to the sides then behind.

‘Are you going to the fort?’ The man takes a step forward then stops again, ‘we got here last night and…’

‘You’re survivors?’ Marcy asks without thinking.

‘Yes…my wife…and some others er…we heard about it. About the fort I mean. Are you? I mean…’

‘Same,’ Marcy says quickly, ‘how many of you?’

‘A few,’ the man says clearly not wanting to give too much away, ‘can I come over?’

‘Of course,’ Marcy takes a confident few paces towards him, ‘wait here,’ she mutters to Reginald.

‘They might be dangerous,’ Reginald whimpers.

‘I’m a zombie, Reggie,’ Marcy says with a turn of her head towards Reginald.

‘Don’t say that word!’

‘My friend is waiting there,’ Marcy calls out, ‘er…we’ve had some pretty bad encounters on the way here.’

‘Same,’ the man says. He looks bedraggled with several days of grey streaked beard showing on sunken cheeks and hooded eyes.

‘You look exhausted,’ Marcy says quietly, ‘are you all like that?’

‘Yeah,’ the man nods and stops a few feet away. Nervous and worried, he doesn't know what to do with his hands. Putting them first in his pockets then on his hips before visibly sagging on the spot, ‘is it safe?’

‘The fort?’ Marcy asks, ‘I think so.’

‘Everyone keeps talking about Mr Howie and his army…you heard about them?’

‘I have,’ Marcy says.

‘My daughter died,’ the man blurts the words out with a choking sob, ‘on the way…she got bit and…Christ…I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Marcy steps closer again and watches the man crumble before her eyes.

‘We’ve been walking so long…my wife, she hasn’t spoken since our daughter and…and everyone said the fort was safe and Mr Howie can keep them away but…’ he lifts a hand to point to the fort across the bay, ‘and we’re here…fucking here…’

‘Do you have more children?’ Marcy asks softly.

‘Son,’ the man clenches his jaw to stem the tide of tears falling down his face, ‘and there’s more kids with us.’

‘Your son will be safe now,’ Marcy speaks soft and earnest, ‘I know Mr Howie and I know his team. They’ll never let anything happen to your family.’

‘You know them?’

‘Yes.’

‘She died,’ the man sobs again, ‘in my arms…I can’t…oh my god I can’t…’

He sinks to his knees at the realisation that the strength he needed to get this far can be let go. A journey through hell with death and suffering at every turn. Loss and deprivation with the constant threat of dying and walking miles every day on weak legs that have spent a lifetime sitting and resting.

‘Come on,’ Marcy grips his arm and starts to help him to his feet, ‘you’re almost there but your family still need you.’

‘I’m sorry…’

‘Don’t be, get up and take your people down there. Go on…’

He gets up with a head lowered and takes a few steps on heavy legs, ‘you’re not coming?’

‘Not yet, we’re waiting for some others… you go first.’

He walks back towards the house and Marcy watches a man defeated forcing himself to take the final few steps before he can sink into the abyss of shock. Pain on her face that he doesn't even have the gumption left to ask how she knows Mr Howie and his team, or why she’s here.

She motions to Reginald to move back. The two of them retreating further away while the man disappears for a few minutes then comes out in front of a ragtag group of men, women and children. They stare round with expressions of utter terror and confusion but with eyes that flick always back to the fort and the promise of the safety it offers.

‘We’re not going with them?’ Reginald asks quietly.

‘They’ll see your eyes.’

‘Ah, at least you have some small amount of common sense left.’

‘Common sense?’ Marcy says as an idea pops into her head, ‘wait here,’ she says to Reginald before darting across the road towards the man she just spoke with.

Three

‘Almost there,’ Nick focuses on the road as he feels the sway of the laden van through the frame as he steers round the debris on the road.

‘Dave, did you know Mr Howie would be okay?’

Dave doesn't answer but watches out the front windscreen, his hands resting in his lap.

‘I kinda had an idea he would be,’ Nick glances across, ‘like…fuck I don’t know…’ Nick shakes his head, ‘I don’t know how but…’

Talking to Dave is hard at the best of times but when he stays so silent it makes it near on impossible. Nick sighs and navigates the vehicle through the narrow roads that feed towards the bay.

A journey of silence since Clarence radioed ahead. Nick driving. Dave inert.

‘You are a good soldier, Nicholas,’ Dave says without any preamble, ‘I am proud of you.’

The tears prickle Nick’s eyes the second the words hit his ears. A deep crimson blush spreads across his face at the overwhelming compliment paid by the most dangerous man any of them have ever known.

He doesn't know what to say or how to respond. He thinks of something to respond with, to say thank-you would sound fake. To say anything else would be flippant.

‘You survived in that house,’ Dave says, ‘you showed courage and fortitude in the face of an enemy far greater in number than you.’

‘Jesus, Dave.’ Nick whispers.

‘That is all,’ Dave nods with a signal that the conversation is over.

‘Okay,’ Nick coughs and widens his eyes while shaking his head, ‘thanks.’

‘And you did not falter when Mr Howie went down.’

Fucking hell! Nick glances across with the realisation that he is having an actual conversation with Dave.

‘Do not falter,’ Dave says.

‘I won’t.’

‘I won’t is not a good enough response. You will not falter because you will not falter. It is fact and not an attempt at something.’

‘Okay.’

‘We cannot falter,’ Dave says quietly in a tone Nick has never heard before, ‘stop the vehicle.’

Nick starts at seeing the beach right ahead of them. With trembling hands he steers the van onto the sand and brings it to a stop as Dave alights with fluid movements.

‘YOU,’ Dave bellows across the beach towards the guard crew stationed there, ‘WE NEED BOATS NOW…MAKE IT HAPPEN…’

‘Fuck me,’ Nick says to himself, ‘did that just happen?’ He watches with the eyes of a man ever learning as Dave dominates the ground around him. Orders shouted and complied with instantly. There is no room for error with Dave. Simply no question of not doing what he says.

Nick rubs his face and yawns. The exhaustion evident in every movement from his bone weary body. Without thinking he tugs his packet of cigarettes out from his torn and bloodied pocket. The filter touches his lips, the hands find a lighter and he inhales at the same second as realising he is sitting in a van full of live ammunition, grenades and God knows whatever else was shoved in.

‘Sorry, Dave,’ the words spill out of his mouth as fast he scrambles from the van to pace away as though expecting it to combust instantly.

‘Smoking is unlikely to ignite rounds,’ Dave looks back, ‘however, the embers from your cigarette could set fire to other flammable material that in turn could cause a fire which…’

‘I get it,’ Nick waves then stops in horror, ‘sorry,’ he winces. Shit, he just cut Dave off mid speech. The small man stares hard for a second and seems to take in the sorry state of the young man before looking away.

‘Rest now,’ he says simply, ‘take fluids and rest.’

‘Fuck,’ Nick sinks down onto the soft sand and lets his over-tired mind ease down with the frantic thinking. He smokes and blinks heavily. He smokes and stares without looking. His hands are encrusted from the battle. Blood and gore spattered all over his clothing and up his bare arms.

He looks down at his own sorry state and winces but carries on smoking. Boats are rushed towards the beach from the fort. Voices calling. Radio transmissions and Nick watches as Dave simply takes a radio from a youth and bellows an order into it before handing it back and knows he will never be as competent as Dave.

‘Shit,’ on his feet and he crosses the short space of ground to the van, dragging his assault rifle out he racks the bolt back and has the weapon up and aimed as he about turns and starts pacing towards the oncoming group heading across beach, ‘STAND STILL,’ Nick roars, ‘STAND STILL NOW…’

As one the group freeze. As one the guard crew spin with weapons being raised and made ready.

‘YOU,’ Nick points off to the guard crew, ‘FAN OUT AND COVER ME…’

‘ON YOU,’ Darius shouts back.

‘SHOW ME YOUR HANDS,’ Nick paces towards the group with long strides of his legs while the guard crew fans out. Dave watches without reaction or movement.

Arms shoot into the air with an instant compliance of the orders given, ‘GOOD…STAY STILL….ARE ANY OF YOU BITTEN OR SCRATCHED?’

‘NO,’ the man at the head shouts back quickly, ‘we’re survivors…’

‘Okay…okay,’ Nick lowers his voice but keeps the weapon raised, ‘this is the fort and you will be safe here…but you must remain still so you can be checked…do you understand?’

Nods come back at him. Faces fixed on the young man that dominates the scene.

‘You are safe,’ Nick repeats, ‘but you are safe because we have procedures…stay still and let me check your eyes…that’s it…everyone look at me so I can see your eyes…’ He moves to the front of the group and while keeping the weapon raised and ready he peers from face to face.

‘Good, you two go forward,’ he motions to the first clear faces, ‘then you…and you…that’s good…and you, Sir….and you Madam…take the child with you I can see her eyes from here…okay…good…DARIUS?’

‘HERE.’

‘ALL CLEAR.’

‘GOT IT.’

Nick lowers the weapon and smiles sheepishly at the terrified group huddled together, ‘sorry about that,’ he shrugs, ‘er…everyone okay?’

‘Jesus mate,’ one the men says with a gasp, ‘what happened to you?’

‘Me?’ Nick looks down and blanches at the state of his clothes, ‘oh yeah…we had a hard night.’

‘Hard night?’ The man whimpers, ‘doing what?’

‘Killing zombies,’ Nick shrugs again as he lights another cigarette.

‘Are you with Mr Howie?’ Someone asks.

‘Hmmm? Yeah, I’m Nick, that’s Dave,’ he points off to the small man watching him from his original position.

‘Nick and Dave!’

‘Where’s Clarence?’

‘What about the Chinese girl?’

‘Thai,’ Nick says, ‘she’s from Thailand not China…er…Mr Howie is just coming now but…but one of our team got hurt so we’re using these boats first…you’ll have to hang on for a bit.’

‘Er,’ one of them men steps forward, ‘I got passed a message.’

‘Do what?’ Nick asks.

‘Marcy, she said to tell Mr Howie or one of his team…’

‘Marcy? Where?’

‘Back there,’ the man points back to the houses on the edge of the bay, ‘she’s there with a man…she said to tell you that.’

‘A man? What did he look like?’

‘Small bloke…er…glasses and a tie…’

‘Reggie,’ Nick mutters and stares hard at the houses, ‘okay, listen…do not tell anyone else. You hear me?’

‘Yeah sure.’

‘Cheers,’ Nick walks off with a backward glance at the houses as the Saxon’s engine roars into the vicinity.

‘Dave,’ he rushes over as Dave turns to watch the incoming army personnel carrier, ‘that bloke just said Marcy is up there.’

‘Where?’ He turns to look at Nick’s outstretched arm and up to the houses on the edge of the beach.

‘Reggie is with her, or at least the bloke said there was a man with her with glasses and a tie….she told him to tell us.’

‘Okay,’ Dave nods once as the Saxon slews to a halt. Doors burst open as Howie and the others burst into activity.

‘BOATS?’ Howie shouts.

‘READY,’ Dave replies.

‘How is she?’ Nick runs round the back to look inside the Saxon and Roy straddled across Lani doing chest compressions, ‘oh fuck…’

‘We need a stretcher,’ Blowers jumps down, ‘Roy’s got to keep the compressions going while we move her…Nick…Nick we need a stretcher.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Nick drags his eyes from the awful sight of Lani being worked on by Roy and Paula, ‘stretcher…got it,’ he nods and runs down the beach to the boats waiting in the shallows.

He wades in, heading to the closest boat and grips the edge to peer in, ‘CLARENCE,’ he turns to shout, ‘get this boat up on the beach,’ he orders the youth waiting by the outboard at the back.

‘What?’

‘Fuck’s sake, lift the prop up…lift it…pull the thing towards you…CLARENCE…’

‘What?’ The big man runs down the beach.

‘The middle section, we can make a stretcher.’

‘Got it,’ they heave the boat until it grinds on the beach. Clarence levers himself over the edge and shuffles over to stand straddling the thick board of the middle seating running width ways across the boat. He takes a deep breath, pauses then heaves with an explosion of force that tears the plank free from the marine screws holding it in place.

‘Here,’ Nick leans in to grasp the end, pulls it closer then starts running back up the beach towards the Saxon.

‘Any good?’ Nick gets to the rear panting from the exertion.

‘Lie it flat,’ Howie appears at his side, ‘Roy, we’ve got a stretcher…’

‘She’s breathing on her own again,’ Roy jumps clear and moves up to push his hands under Lani’s armpits, ‘quickly now…someone grab her legs...we’ve got to be quick but gentle.’

Cookey gets in and on cue from Roy lifts Lani’s legs as Roy eases her upper body clear. Over the stacked ammunition boxes they pass the unconscious woman out to the gentle waiting hands that lower her softly onto the board.

‘Everyone,’ Howie orders, ‘she’s not strapped in so we move steady but quick…’

The board lifts with ease from the hands all jumping in. Howie at the head while Roy stays close to Lani’s side monitoring her pulse and breathing.

‘Down!’ He orders at failing to find a pulse.

‘Onto the boat, mate,’ Howie counters the order, ‘first one is here…easy now…’

Clarence in the boat and he leans forward to grasp the offered plank as they work between them to get Lani down. Roy vaults the side to gain her side and once again check for pulse and breathing. Without a word uttered he starts work, fingers interlinked palm to back of hand and the first compression is given.

Clarence scrabbles over the edge, grips the front of the boat and pushes it clear of the beach and back into the water.

‘Darius,’ Howie climbs into the boat as the youth gets the engine going, ‘we go first, then the ammunition then the people after that.’

‘Got it,’ Darius shouts back.

‘And get the doctors waiting for us.’

‘Done it.’

The team pile into boats that get swiftly turned round and pointed back to the fort, each one opens up with whatever horse power the engine can generate as they glide through the water.

Roy works steady, never ceasing as he pushes down, pauses, pushes down, pauses and counts fifteen before nodding at Paula to give two breaths.

The lads watch quietly and no one notices that Jagger and Mo Mo have chosen to stay with them in the boats rather than re-join their old mates on the guard crews.

‘We need faster boats,’ Cookey says through gritted teeth in the second boat, ‘this thing flat out?’

‘Yeah,’ the boy holding the rudder arm nods but dares not say anything else. The sight of these people is something else. Each one of them covered in gore, blood and filth. Hard eyes and the way they move and talk. Like a unit of professional soldiers. Even the smiling Cookey looks like something from a movie with his blond hair plastered to his head and covered in cuts, bruises and fresh bite mark to his shoulder exposed by the torn fabric of his clothes.

They still grip weapons as though only resting from the battle. They look round constantly, always scanning, always checking the positions of the others. Looks pass between them and in those fleeting glances are messages and nuances of meaning that have built up over long days and nights of depending on the others for life.

‘Doctors,’ Nick nods ahead to the white lab coat wearing figures waiting to receive on the small beach in front of the fort.

‘Did Darius tell them we need a defib waiting?’ Blowers ask the youth.

‘I dunno.’

‘Dave, we need a defib,’ Blowers shouts over the water, ‘can they hear you from here?’

Dave sits in the exact middle of the third boat, his hands gripping the plinth beneath his lap. He nods, draws breath and shouts.

‘DEFIB NEEDED.’

‘Fuck,’ Cookey says under his breath, ‘they bloody heard him though.’

A doctor lifts an arm and runs back into the fort as the boats glide so slowly across the expanse of water before finally hitting the shelving beach.

The lads jump out and wade over to the first boat, assault rifles pushed back on the straps to rest across their backs.

Orders are not needed as the plank is lifted and moved swiftly over the edge of the boat and into the hands of the waiting medics.

‘Give us room,’ Doctor Andrew Stone orders calmly as Anne Carlton runs onto the beach carrying a small plastic case.

‘Tell me what happened please,’ Andrew asks without looking up at the group.

‘She was bitten, cut and…see the wounds…we dressed them,’ Roy stands with hands on hips.

‘Much blood lost?’ Andrew asks.

‘Not really…maybe at first but the wounds have clotted really fast…do you know she was immune?’

‘This is Lani right?’ Andrew says.

‘Yes but her wounds are already healing faster than they should…she might be a carrier…’ Roy says.

‘Face masks,’ Andrew and the other doctors move back to quickly tug the masks up. They pull plastic safety glasses from deep pockets and quickly check their gloves are intact.

‘No pulse, no breathing,’ Doctor Franklin reports, ‘are we charged?’

‘Wait,’ Andrew opens the case and pulls two wires free. He moves quickly as he first fixes two self-adhesive patches to Lani’s chest. He plugs the wires into the patches and checks the front of the machine.

‘Clear?’

‘Clear,’ Lisa and Anne lean away as Andrew pushes a button on the machine. Lani jolts with a sudden pulse of electricity passing through her body.

Everyone stands together, watching and waiting and feeling useless as the doctors check for vitals and speak to each other in hushed tones. Once again Andrew presses the big red button on the machine that delivers a shock to Lani’s body.

‘Pulse…’ Andrew relays with a hand outstretched in warning to the others. All three watch the screen on the front, ‘holding…it’s holding…weak but…’

‘We should get her inside,’ Doctor Franklin turns to the waiting group, ‘carry the stretcher straight into the hospital bay.’

With the defib still attached monitoring Lani’s heart rate the adhoc stretcher is once again gripped, lifted and carried by people almost too tired to walk but refusing to yield to the exhaustion sapping at their limbs.

Through the outer door and across the gap to gain the inside of the fort. Survivors stare in silence at the gruesome sight of the battle weary men and Paula racing while taking the greatest of care of their own. Every one of them a sight that tells those watching survivors they have freedom this day because of the actions of this small group.

Men and women grip the hands of their children or avert their eyes because the sight of the young team tells them what they’ve been through. The cuts and bruises, the bite marks and blades still encrusted with blood. The hoarse voices that speak of constant yelling and shouting. The heavy way they move while laden down with weapons, ammunition, pistols, axes and water bottles.

The doctors run ahead clearing the way. Doctor Heathcliff Stone already having made a bed free for the incoming casualty.

‘Hold it,’ Lisa Franklin makes the team hold the stretcher next to the bed so Clarence can lift her easily from the plank to the bed. Once the transfer is made so the team immediately and instantly become redundant. Not needed. Not required. In the way.

Still they hover and wait. Desperate to stay together and watch as if moving away will break the bond and cause the death of Lani.

The A&E nurse rushes forward with a pair of scissors to cut away Lani’s clothing. The doctors bustle with calm efficiency remembered from the years of their lives spent in casualty departments.

Hospital machinery run by thirsty generators run by valuable diesel are plugged in and connected to the Thai girl.

‘You need to go,’ Heathcliff asserts his seniority by ushering the team away, ‘being here is no good…let us work.’

‘But,’ Cookey is the first to give voice as he stares desperately at Lani.

‘No buts, please…’ Heathcliff spreads his hands, ‘we are the experts here and we need the space to work without being watched…especially by armed men…’

‘And you’re all covered in shit,’ Lisa Franklin says without turning, ‘get out of here now before you infect someone else…I want those clothes incinerated and you lot scrubbed with anti-bacterial cleanser…’

Howie nods, his dark eyes brooding as he glances round at the state of the people around him.

‘Howie, what happened?’ Maddox strides into the hospital bay with Lenski and Lilly hot on his heels. Lilly gasps at the sight and rushes to Nick.

‘Lani got hurt,’ Howie says quietly, ‘we were overwhelmed.’

‘Everyone else okay?’

‘Yeah…’ Howie nods.

‘Get out of my hospital!’ Lisa snaps.

‘Everyone out,’ Howie says knowing the team will happily ignore the angry doctor.

‘Nick,’ Lilly stops short of hugging him, her eyes widening at the sight of his clothes and skin, ‘my god…are you okay?’

‘Me? Fine,’ he says quickly, ‘Lani’s hurt…they were…I mean Roy and Paula were doing resuscitation on her.’

‘You go,’ Lenski motions to the door, ‘go your rooms, I bring water and you wash…’

They file out in silence. Howie leading the way until they stand once again in the bright sunshine and warmth of the homely fort.

‘Maddox, we’ve got loads of ammunition…it’s in the Saxon and the van on the beach…’

‘Darius told me,’ Maddox holds a hand out to cut Howie off, ‘leave it with me. Go. Go wash.’

Howie inclines his head in a sharp gesture of understanding. Still together they skirt the middle busiest sections of the fort and walk round the inner perimeter towards their rooms. No speaking. Eyes watchful. Hands held ready to grip weapons.

‘Fluids first,’ Dave orders, ‘then wash and clean your weapons…then sleep.’

‘Dave,’ Cookey and the rest nod in affirmation.

‘You’ve all done well, very well,’ Dave adds to another quick glance from Nick.

‘Boss,’ Nick takes a step towards Howie.

‘I’ll do it, get washed,’ Dave says in his monotone voice. Nick drops his head and joins the others filing into the rooms.

‘Do what?’ Howie asks.

‘Marcy is back…’

Four

‘Fucking what?’ I blink in surprise as Dave delivers the news as deadpan as ever.

‘Marcy is back,’ he repeats.

‘Where? Back where? Here?’ I spin round as though expecting her to be behind me.

‘The survivors on the beach were told to tell Mr Howie or his group that she is by the houses on the beach. They told Nick. Nick told me.’

I don’t reply but take a deep intake of breath. Just me and Dave outside the rooms. The rest are inside already glugging water into parched throats.

Lani is dying in a hospital bed. The team are the most drained I have seen yet. The fort is filling up with people again. We’ve got doctors and ammunition. We’ve got people in the right roles, Maddox and Lenski.

And Marcy is back.

Marcy.

‘Okay,’ I nod at Dave and head inside the old armoury, the space given over for us to use.

‘Boss,’ Clarence passes me a cold bottle of water which is downed in one go. Sighs and burps from all around as the water is taken on too quickly.

‘Can I come in,’ Lilly calls from outside.

‘Yes,’ I call back and watch as she appears with a polite smile and nod while gripping a handful of yellow bin bags.

‘Sorry,’ she winces, ‘I’ve been told to collect your clothes so they can be burnt?’

‘Sure, leave them there,’ I nod at the table in the middle.

‘Is there anything you need?’ She asks the room.

‘Coffee,’ I mutter, ‘lots of coffee.’

‘Food,’ Nick offers a weak smile.

‘Sleep,’ Blowers says quietly.

‘Weapons first,’ Dave reminds everyone.

Buckets of soapy water are carried over along with a hose connected to clean cold water. A folding screen is propped up outside giving us some degree of privacy to wash instead of doing so in full view of the forts occupants.

The weapons are done quickly but competently. None of us needed to be reminded how much we reply on them.

Belts are checked. Pistols cleaned and filled with fresh magazines. The blades of our hand weapons are sprayed with water then scrubbed with anti-bac before being dried fully and re-sharpened.

Finally we file outside and drink coffee and eat food while stripping off to dump the ruined garments into the yellow bin bags.

We scrub and scrub. Arms and faces. Torsos, legs and heads. Everything is cleansed and as the filth comes off we realise just how battered and bruised our bodies are.

There is no banter. No jokes. Not even weak ones. Faces are worried and eyes constantly drift towards the hospital bay. Our team is down one member and we each of us feel it more keenly than ever.

Clean clothes are laid out. Combat trousers and tops washed and scrubbed until the camouflage material is faded.

The lads can hardly keep their eyes open but no one wants to break the spell of being together. Jagger and Mo Mo are with us now. Members of the team as much as anyone and they learn fast, adopting the mannerisms of the others. Paula and Roy stay close together.

‘Doc coming,’ Blowers nods behind us as we stand outside. We all turn to see Andrew Stone walking quickly towards us.

‘Right,’ he says and nods seriously, ‘Lani’s body has taken one hell of a beating but…like Roy said…she is healing far faster than anything I have ever seen. She is stable for now and…’

‘And what?’ I prompt him.

‘We don’t know,’ he shrugs, ‘she’s stable. Her heart rate is okay, she’s breathing on her own…whatever the thing is inside her is changing the physical way the body responds to trauma,’ he takes a breath before continuing, ‘to the extent that it has probably saved her life. We cannot detect any broken bones but then we don’t have any x-ray facility. Her lungs are clear and her heart is strong and that’s half the battle. The rest is down to her to heal. Until she comes round and tells us where it hurts there’s not a great deal we can do.’

‘At least she’s stable,’ Paula says, ‘that’s brilliant news.’

‘Yeah,’ Cookey says, ‘she’ll be alright now.’

‘Maybe,’ Andrew offers a wan smile, ‘early days but at this stage, yes…it’s looking okay but,’ he tilts his head as though to emphasise his point, ‘we do not know how she has changed or…well, until she wakes up and can tell us. The visible wounds are stitched and cleaned but…er, is anyone else hurt?’

‘Blowers got bit on the arm,’ Cookey says.

‘Snitch,’ Blowers replies quickly.

‘Let me see,’ Andrew takes Blowers offered arm and checks the bite marks, ‘does it hurt?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the skin has been punctured…broken through…open wound…did it bleed?’

‘Loads.’

‘Show him your knuckles,’ Clarence says.

Blowers turns his hands over to present his bruised and cut knuckles.

‘Old wounds?’ Andrew asks as through unsure why he’s being shown them.

‘Same time as the bite…same time as Lani got hurt,’ Blowers says quietly.

‘I see,’ Andrew mutters, ‘and…well. I er…bollocks, I have no idea what’s going on.’ He admits quickly, ‘these wounds are scabbed and healing. I would date the bite mark at two days at the least.’

‘Cookey got hurt too,’ Blowers says.

‘Show me,’ Andrew looks over the cuts and marks on Cookey’s arms, hands and face.

‘Right then, Howie is immune. Cookey and you,’ the doctor points at Blowers, ‘Lani and…anyone else?’ He looks round.

‘We don’t know,’ I say.

‘Hmmm, you’re all carriers then until we can prove otherwise. You are not to share any food, washing water, drinking water or anything that can transmit the disease by way of bodily fluids.’

‘Doc,’ I say softly, ‘we’ve been bleeding over each other for the best part of two weeks now.’

‘We have no idea what this infection is,’ Andrew says firmly, ‘and until we know you will…you must adhere to the basic principles of…’

‘We get it…and we’ve been around loads of people and no one has caught zombie from us yet.’

‘I understand that, Mr Howie but until we’re in a position to understand…’

‘Doc, sorry to keep cutting you off but they need sleep. Anything else?’

‘Er,’ he blanches slightly, ‘no…do you want updating with any changes?...right yes…’ he becomes visibly nervous at the hard flat stares of the killers around him, ‘of course, yes…’

‘Weird bloke,’ Cookey says quietly as the doctor rushes away.

‘Him? Us more like,’ Blowers says, ‘I’m fucked…can we turn in?’

‘Go for it…oh hang on…’ They turn back with tired faces, ‘Nick was passed a message earlier,’ I say while Nick lifts his eyebrows in surprise, ‘Marcy is at the houses by the bay…she told some survivors to tell us.’

‘Fuck,’ Cookey says, ‘never rains does it.’

‘We going then?’ Blowers sighs but straightens up as though ready to move back out.

‘After we’ve slept.’

‘Thank fuck for that,’ Blowers sags again with a wan smile.

‘Sleep.’ The order isn’t needed and as one we head inside the walls of the old fort to our bare concrete bunkers and the space we call home.

Paula and Roy have rooms elsewhere. Jagger and Mo Mo were in the space reserved for the crews but we’ve been through too much together to be separated now. Everyone finds a bed or something soft and within minutes they’re all crashed out and falling into silence.

My mind spins for a few minutes. Thoughts of seeing Lani go down and the image in my head of Roy straddled across her body while doing chest compressions. Guilt mixed with despair. Guilt that I kissed Marcy in my dream and guilt from the sensation of my stomach flipping when I heard the message she passed. Despair that Lani almost laid down her life for mine.

There is another emotion mixed in with the guilt and despair. A feeling that has come from the fucked dreams I had and the things I saw. Not just the old man I carried out from the underground train station or the meeting with Lani, but watching the team argue and bicker. Seeing Blowers and Cookey fight with bare hands as they sought to cover the breach in the wall.

A sensation, no. A gripping icy hand that rips through every other feeling that I must have fortitude. That we’re at a turning point and right now is the time to make a decision. We can stay within the fort now. We have ammunition, weapons, doctors, medicines, fuel, people, skills and food.

We can focus on building a place of safety and refuge to protect our species so they may survive and continue our race.

The infection told me there can only be one race. The infection won’t allow us the peace to live quietly. It will mass and attack again and it won’t stop.

The thought of the infection making an undead drive the Saxon is terrifying. If it can do that what else can it achieve?

Staying here and hiding is not an option. We have to go out and meet this thing head on. We have to find Marcy and seek the answers for the answers will not just come to us.

The icy sensation within me is fortitude. That I must be equally as ruthless as the infection but retain the essence of humanity or else there is no point defeating it for we would be the same.

To be human is to laugh, cry, feel and react. Without that we are the hive mind pack of the undead. We are allowed to be angry and righteous for it’s those emotions that will see us through the worst times yet to come.

Fuck me, Blowers is immune. Cookey. Lani. Me and of course, Meredith. Too many thoughts, too many strands of thoughts all pushing off into different directions and my tired mind slowly sinks into the blissful state of oblivion.

Five

The devil sits on one shoulder, the angel on the other. In the middle rests the common sense of a mind that feels the equal pull of both. By the presence of both we have a balance of thought. The desire to achieve and get more is coupled with the conscience to do so decently. To act within the boundaries of the acceptable behaviours of our species.

We see evil. We feel evil. We see good. We are good.

One race.

One race to be born without the concepts of good or evil. With no devil. No angel. Just the purity of existence.

One race that can see the folly of humankind. A free mind is never truly free. The species is wrapped up in a plethora of differing rules that sculpt each mind depending on the factors around it.

False gods. False prophets. False ideals and beliefs. A society of lies spun so deep within us we cannot now, nor ever will be truly free.

One race.

Machines bleep in the quiet of the hospital bay. Run by diesel that powers the generators that give life to the machines that watch life.

The heartbeat is steady. The blood pressure recovers. The wounds were deep and life threatening but they healed, clotted, congealed and the body did what was needed to stem the loss of the vital fluids needed to function.

She lies still. Her chest rises with the breath taken in and lowers by the breath exhaled. Lisa Franklin stares down at the body and watches with a focus only a mind trained from years of study can bring to bear.

The wounds are bad, no. They were bad. The patient exhibits injuries that are days old but they only just happened. The area round the wounds should be bruising but they aren’t. The body should be weak from fighting infection of the open wounds but it isn’t weak.

The anti-biotics administered through the drip were stopped. An act done without the knowledge of the other doctors. Lisa Franklin simply twisted the valve on the tube and switched it off.

Nothing happened.

Nothing.

No change to heartbeat, pulse, temperature or breathing.

That was hours ago.

Once again she pulls the cover back to reveal the golden skin on the Thai girl’s shapely legs and once again she shakes her head at the laceration on the inner thigh. A deep laceration. A laceration that would require stitches. A laceration that would cause swelling in the surrounding soft tissue as the body reacted to protect the injury. A laceration that would see bruising in the skin.

Nothing.

A clean wound that does not require stitches and is not swollen and that is surrounded by normal coloured flesh of a golden hue without a trace of bruising.

She leans closer and uses an old fashioned magnifying glass to inspect the wound. The scabs are thick but different. They seem to be fusing with the living skin surrounding the wound. The scab is the protective layer that serves to guard the tender injury. In time, and as the wound heals, the scab comes away. This scab is not going to come away. This scab is part of the healing process.

Doctor Franklin checks the other wounds. Albeit they are not as serious as the thigh wound but still, the same process is underway.

If this were normal times. If this patient were a normal patient in a normal hospital then by now that hospital would be packed full of regional and national experts with international experts on route.

She would be isolated and subjected to every test known to modern medicine because what Lani is doing, or rather, what her body is doing, defies everything.

Outside the hospital the fort is alive with sound and motion. A riot of colours from the modern fabric worn by the survivors. Tents erected shelter some from the hot sun. Others stand and chat to new neighbours. Lilly strides through the middle with clipboard held firm in her hands. Lenski by the police offices sips from a bottle of water as she watches the ammunition brought over from the shore being carried through to be stacked deep within the walls of the fort.

Within the old armoury there is near silence. Clarence snores. Meredith whimpers in her sleep, her back legs twitching as she chases one of the things within her dream. An undead with many arms that all need to be taken and kept.

Blowers murmurs as he scratches at the bite mark on his arm that itches from healing. The scabs of dried blood fuse with the skin surrounding the wound.

Cookey sleeps peacefully. His own wounds healing as the body floods with the exact chemicals in the exact order needed to repair the damaged tissues, ligaments, tendons and muscles.

Doctor Franklin purses her lips and stands up with a low groan at the dull ache in her lower back from being bent over the patient for too long.

She lacks the knowledge to deal with this. All of the doctors do. They need blood specialists, scientists versed in tropical diseases and virologists to even begin to understand what could be happening.

Yes she can take a blood sample and study it and possibly even work out a way of identifying something within the blood that is different to people who are not infected. But the variables are too great and the risks of getting it wrong are too much.

With a sigh she accepts she does not know what she is looking at. She can fix the limbs and injuries. She and the other doctors can do basic operations and administer medicines but that’s it.

But.

But she can sense something. A gut instinct that Lani is different to normal people but she is not infected in the way they have seen. The infection has changed her. Changed her ability to heal.

That would be the same for all the members of that team that have proven to be immune. Howie. Blowers and Cookey.

Are they carriers? Can their blood infect someone else? The only way to tell for sure would be to take Lani’s blood and physically put it into someone else’s and monitor the results.

She turns slowly to face the bed opposite from Lani. An old man with a weak heart lies dying. Too many days without his medication coupled with the constant fear and strenuous action of running have placed too great a burden on the already diseased organ within his chest.

She looks at his bare arms lying exposed at the sides of his body and takes a breath. What she is thinking is incomprehensible to a modern doctor within the Western world of medicine. It goes against everything she has ever sworn to do.

But that one act will give a huge amount of information. To take Lani’s blood and put it in the old man then wait to see if he becomes infected.

He’s out of it. Sedated by strong drugs that do their work to rid his body of pain until he expires.

He wouldn’t feel a thing. He would have no knowledge.

Barbaric? Yes. Essential? Also yes.

‘Lisa, please tell me you are not being serious?’ Doctor Carlton asks slowly. Twenty minutes since Lisa had the idea and around her stand the other three doctors with Maddox and Lenski.

‘You can see Lani’s rate of healing with your own eyes,’ Lisa says. She knew this would be a hard sell and rightly so but she also knows it makes sense.

‘I agree,’ Andrew says with a nod, ‘the old chap is sedated and won’t feel a thing and to be honest, I thought he’d already be dead by now.’

‘Andrew!’ Anne stares at him with shock, ‘think about what you’re saying. All of you think about this,’ she glares round at the group.

‘Anne,’ Lisa says softly, ‘we’re all four us pissing in the wind on this.’

‘Lisa…’

‘No, Anne. We’re blind. We’re worse than medical students trying to understand our first biology lesson. Lani could be infected with this virus…it’s certainly doing something to her physiology.’

‘But sacrificing a human life?’

‘Anne, he’s dead anyway,’ Lisa says, ‘the second those meds wear off and the pain hits him he dies…at least this way he’s giving something back before he dies.’

‘Okay,’ Anne lifts her eyebrows and pauses, ‘so to be clear. You are suggesting we use a human test subject without the patients consent or knowledge?’

‘And we have hundreds of people living here,’ Maddox interrupts her, ‘if Lani is a carrier then it means Howie and the rest are carriers. We need to know that information. Do the test.’

‘Listen, Maddox,’ Anne holds a hand as though to gain his attention, ‘you are not a doctor and…’

‘But I am responsible for the welfare of every person within this fort.’

‘If we er…’ Andrew turns to look at the old man sleeping so peacefully, ‘I mean…do we need to restrain him? In case he turns or…’

‘Not here,’ Maddox states, ‘we’ll take him outside to the beach.’

‘Oh no…not happening,’ Anne says firmly, ‘this patient is under my care and there is no way you are dragging him outside to sacrifice him for some butchered bloody test that won’t tell us anything anyway.’

‘It’ll tell us if Lani is a carrier,’ Maddox replies.

‘Will it?’ Anne asks archly, ‘is that right? We take blood from Lani without knowing anything about her medical history and put it into that man without knowing anything about his medical history. Have you any concept of the variables at play here? He could die from a heart attack simply by moving him…he could have other pre-existing conditions that we have no knowledge of which could affect the result of this so called test. We have no idea what effects this virus has on people and…’

‘Not true,’ Heathcliff Stone speaks for the first time having watched the conversation in silence, ‘we do know what effects it has.’

‘Heathcliff, we know nothing about this virus or the physiological results on the human body.’

‘We do,’ Heathcliff offers a wry smile, ‘we know that an infected person craves the flesh of people. That is a crude symptom but one we are familiar with. We know it makes the eyes go red and fill with blood. We know the patient will lose cognitive function. We know there will be an inability to communicate or feel pain. Modern medicine is all about what tests we can run or undertake but sometimes good old fashioned doctoring has to suffice. We know what a zombie bloody looks like because we have seen them. If the old chap turns into one we know Lani is infected with the virus.’

‘They don’t bleed like normal,’ Maddox says quietly, ‘they heal faster too,’ he motions towards Lani, ‘there are signs.’

‘And if the male patient doesn't become infected?’ Anne asks, ‘what then? We take it as fact that Lani is not infected?’

‘My dear,’ Heathcliff rocks on his heels, ‘we work with what we have. Young man,’ he fixes Maddox with a glare, ‘I am the senior physician here and I give you consent to run the test…that man,’ he points to the old patient, ‘would not be here receiving this care if it was not for Howie and his team. He would not be receiving pain medication nor lying peacefully in a clean hospital bed. It is because of the actions of those few that we are able to have this discussion at all. Therefore, we owe it to those few to determine what we can and I would stake my professional reputation on the fact that if this old chap were to wake up and be told the facts, that he is going to die within the next few hours but we will sedate him and let him go peacefully and by doing so he may further our understanding of this event which may assist the saving of many more lives…well, I dare say he would agree himself.’

Heathcliff trails off as he casts a pained look at the old man before glancing over to Lani, ‘we must do what we can,’ he says so quietly as though almost to himself. ‘But,’ he looks at the faces watching him, ‘it will be done with what dignity we can muster. A stretcher will be used and we will increase his dose of Morphine just in case. He will not be restrained or tied down. Can your chaps handle that?’ He looks to Maddox, ‘in the event he does turn?’

‘I can handle it,’ Maddox says quietly.

‘Anne,’ Heathcliff turns to the younger woman, ‘I note your objections. I want you present so you can see what happens.’

‘I will,’ Anne says with a small nod. An overwhelming instinct that what they propose is wrong but then everything Heathcliff just said makes it seem okay. An older man with a deep voice that gives gravitas to his words. Bearded and refined and somehow he makes it sound like they are doing the right thing.

Lisa checks the charts at the end of the old man’s bed, nodding to herself as she works out the last administration of Morphine given and quickly calculating what can be given safely.

While a stretcher is brought in and the muttered orders given the old man is lifted gently from his bed and placed on the board. He doesn't murmur or flinch, not a reaction is given from his heavily drug induced comatose state.

Wearing gloves, a face mask and taking the greatest of care, Lisa draws a few cc’s of blood from Lani’s arm. The thick red liquid filling the bottom half of the syringe. She caps the needle and points it down, then re-thinks and wraps it in tissue before placing it inside a cardboard box.

A procession of four doctors is led by Maddox and Lenski as the cortege heads out of the rooms and into the fort. Survivors glance over with interest but say nothing. Death is common now and the man on the stretcher is clearly old and frail.

Through the inner gate, across the gap and out onto the beach. Just the guard crew present and they form a loose half circle round the stretcher that is gently laid out on the ground.

Anne watches with a heavy heart but does lift her gaze enough to see the glittering surface of the sea and the deep blue sky above their heads. Gentle waves lap at the shore and in the sky a gull gives voice as it soars on the thermals.

She exhales a slow breath and realises with a jolt that billions of lives have probably been lost in the last few days and to go like this, sedated and watched by genuinely caring people on a pretty little beach under the gorgeous sun, is better than many could have wished for.

She drops down and takes the old man’s hand gently in her own. She knows the level of morphine in his system means he couldn’t possibly feel it so the action is done for her own conscience.

Lisa looks at Maddox who draws his pistol and nods while stepping closer to the old man’s head. She opens the box, unwraps the syringe and for a second stares at the red liquid held within.

Silence as she lifts his right arm and runs the tip of her thumb over a thick vein protruding through the thin skin.

‘Ready?’ She doesn't look up but holds the needle close.

Maddox checks round and motions with his head for everyone else to move back.

‘Anne,’ Heathcliff says gently, ‘come back now.’

‘I will,’ she says then looks at Lisa, ‘go on.’

‘Okay…the vein is clear, the needle is inserting now going straight into the vein. Drawing back, the syringe draws blood and I am now administering the blood taken from Lani into this patient….syringe empty….withdrawing and applying pressure to the…’

‘Move back now,’ Maddox says quickly.

Anne and Lisa lower the limbs they hold and both swiftly move back as Maddox stands over the old man with the pistol held ready and looks down at the small dribble of blood coming from the pinprick in the crook of the old man’s arm.

One race that is unbound by the restraints of the human desire for the individual to be worthy.

An infection that deepens an understanding of the human brain with every passing day. An infection that takes mere seconds to infiltrate every cell within the human body to stop the heart and re-start it in the true way of being.

An infection that entered Lani but found itself pushed back as her own immunity rallied and took back what was taken.

Lani’s body defeated, but did not eradicate the infection. It pushed it back far enough so the infection was hidden and harmless, contained by healthy DNA that refused the spread it was designed to undertake.

Lani is torn. Damage was wrought to her body. Blood was lost. Too much blood and it weakened her already exhausted body. Hours of running and fighting and she had nothing left to fight with. That tiniest remnant of the virus was suddenly unbidden to release once again but in the time it was held, it changed.

It was not the thing it was when it entered her system. It got into the blood and went through the heart. It made changes to her blood and made it clot faster. It changed her DNA and bolstered the immunity made weaker by the damage to the system.

As it detected death and a loss of ability to live, so it rushed hither and thither throughout the body, driving oxygen into the brain and working hard to keep the heart pumping.

As Roy worked Lani’s chest. So the infection worked inside to keep the host alive. As Lani strengthened, so her own immunity and natural anti-bodies came back into production.

The Lani on the bed in the hospital bed is not the Lani the infection entered and nor is it the Lani that was torn.

As Lani got stronger. So the infection withdrew.

As Lisa pulled Lani’s blood into the syringe, so the infection was once again contained.

The old man lies under the sun as two minutes go by. Sweat beads down Maddox’s face and runs down his cheeks. His hand remains still. His eyes watchful. Someone shifts position. Someone else exhales audibly.

Tension high. Eyes staring. Everyone focused.

‘Three minutes,’ Andrew looks up from his watch, ‘we should look at the eyes.’

Maddox drops in a fluid movement that has the barrel of the gun resting but an inch from the side of the old man’s head. He reached down and uses the tip of his thumb to gently lift the right eyelid.

‘White,’ he says clearly.

‘Let me see,’ Lisa moves forward cautiously. Leaning over Maddox as though using him as a shield. ‘Check the other one.’

Maddox lifts the left eyelid and shows the perfectly normal eye to the doctor who swallows and steps back, blowing air out through puffed cheeks, ‘looks normal,’ he twists round to first stare up at Lisa then beyond her to the waiting crowd.

‘Lani isn’t a carrier then?’ Maddox asks.

‘At this stage,’ Heathcliff steps in closer to peer down at the form of the patient, ‘it appears not.’

Six

19:00 hours. Lani snaps awake with a start. Comatose one second and bolt upright the next. Breathing hard with wide eyes she looks down at her own body then slowly at her surroundings. Machines bleep softly and the air smells clean. In the bed opposite an old man lies deeply asleep while one of the doctors holds his wrist with a look of worried concentration.

Lani goes to speak but her throat is dry and she makes sound with no discernible sense. The doctor turns quickly as she clears her throat and tries again.

‘Fort?’

‘Yes!’ Lisa Franklin crosses the short distance hardly able to contain the surprise at seeing Lani wake so quickly, ‘lie back, you need to rest.’

‘Thirsty,’ Lani coughs again.

‘Here,’ Lisa heads to a side table and takes a bottle of water, ‘sip it first.’

‘Sod that,’ Lani gulps greedily as the cool liquid soaks into her dry mouth and tumbles soothingly down her throat. She downs the bottle and burps without shame before offering a wry smile, ‘sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘Been around the lads too long, no manners…er…why am I in here?’

‘You were injured,’ Lisa rests on the edge of the makeshift hospital bed, ‘deep wound to your thigh, more to your stomach, arms, shoulders…pretty much everywhere.’

‘Oh,’ Lani blanches, ‘yeah I remember getting overwhelmed…wow, the painkillers are good.’

‘Painkillers?’

‘Can’t feel a thing,’ Lani grins, ‘what have you given me?’

‘Funny that,’ Lisa says softly, ‘we haven’t given you anything.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing. You’re not on any pain relief. No Morphine, no Codeine, no anything…not even Paracetamol.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘How long have I been out of it? Where’s everyone else? Did they go for Marcy?’

‘They’re sleeping too.’

‘Sleeping? Why?’ Lani casts round as though trying to work out how long she’s been unconscious.

‘You’ve been here about seven hours.’

‘Seven hours?’

Lisa nods once and watches the Thai girl closely, taking in the rosy golden complexion of her skin and the lustre of her silky black hair which is the opposite of what someone waking up from a coma should look like.

‘Excuse me,’ Lani pulls her knees to her chest with a motion that would have a normal person with those injuries screaming in agony. With Lisa off the bed she pushes the covers back and stares at the injury on her thigh and the puckered skin of an old wound fused and healing.

‘It’s itchy…can I scratch it?’

‘Guess so. Just do it gently.’

‘Ah that’s so nice,’ Lani gently scrapes the tips of her finger nails over the wound.

‘Nice nails,’ Lisa leans in to stare at the finger tips and the perfect white tips edging the healthy pink plate.

‘Yeah they’re a bitch to keep clean.’

‘Don’t they break with all the fighting?’

‘Lucky I guess,’ Lani shrugs, ‘has someone washed me?’

‘Of course we did, you weren’t stepping foot in here in the state you were in.’

‘Thanks, I guess,’ Lani thinks for a second, ‘oh god.’

‘What?’ Lisa snaps to attention.

‘I actually crave coffee…actual coffee…I hate coffee…bloody Howie and the others always drinking it.’

‘Coffee?’

‘Oh they go on about how they don’t get enough coffee but really, the amount of time we spend messing about making coffee, getting coffee or breaking into places just to find coffee is ridiculous.’

‘Lani.’

Lani looks up sharply at the tone in the doctor’s voice and waits for the inevitable questions.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don’t know what?’ Lisa asks with a gentle tone.

‘Why I healed so fast. Why my nails don’t break. Why my hair is in such good condition or any of it. I don’t know. I was infected. I turned. I got better. End of,’ she shrugs defensively, ‘can I go please?’

‘Of course you can go but…’

‘Thanks,’ She stands up expecting a wave of dizziness to sweep over her but finds her legs feel stronger than ever, ‘where are my clothes?’

‘Incinerated. Listen, why don’t you stay a while and rest…’

‘Got work to do.’

‘What work?’

‘Howie will be off to find Marcy and if you think for one second I’ll let him do that alone you can think again.’

‘We need to examine you.’

‘You have examined me…er…what can I wear? I’m in my underwear right now.’

‘Just lie back and let us find some clothes for you. Tell me, how do you feel?’

‘I feel great,’ Lani says with no intention of lying back down.

‘No pain?’

‘No.’

‘Anything unusual?’

‘No.’

‘Lani, was your hair and nails always in such good condition?’

‘Yes. No. I…no they weren’t.’

‘Did you ever get hurt before this? Like say cut your hand or something?’

‘Of course I did and no, I did not heal like I do now. I healed like a normal person and put plasters on and everything.’

‘So you are changing, or rather you have changed.’

‘Listen,’ Lani fixes the doctor with the eyes of a killer, dark and brooding and the intensity has Lisa’s stomach flipping, ‘I appreciate your help but I’m going.’

Lisa swallows and rallies as she forces her gaze away from Lani eyes, ‘we need to know what’s going on.’

‘Help him,’ Lani points across the room to the bed opposite, ‘he looks like he needs it more than me.’

‘Him?’ Lisa follows her gaze, ‘he was dying a few hours ago.’

‘Was?’

‘Well, I should say he was expected to die a few hours ago.’

‘That’s good then isn’t it?’

‘Heart,’ Lisa sighs, ‘he was in a bad way. We had him dosed up to high heaven on Morphine.’

‘And?’

‘Then we took him outside and injected him with your blood.’

‘You did what?’ Lani’s voice drops to a low tone.

Ignoring the warning the doctor continues, ‘we took blood from your arm and put it into him. We wanted to know if you were carrying the infection. He didn’t turn. He didn’t die. He didn’t die then and he hasn’t died since.’

‘Doctor, you cannot…’

‘And we haven’t given him any Morphine since the injection was administered either.’

Lani freezes mid-sentence as she takes in the sleeping form of the old man. Flicking her gaze back to the Lisa she steps slowly across the aisle and closer to the man.

‘His colour is returning,’ Lisa says flatly from behind her, ‘by now…by rights…he should be suffering the pain of his heart condition that by rights should have killed him…’

‘He looks alright,’ Lani whispers the words as she stares at the ruddy cheeks of the patient.

‘He does. And you know what else?’ Lisa steps silently next to Lani and gently lifts the wrist of the man. She goes quiet, focussed then looks at Lani, ‘feel this.’

‘The pulse?’

‘Feel it…put your finger tip here…can you feel it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Dum dum dum dum dum,’ Lisa nods with each beat of the pulse, ‘that tells us his heart is beating normally…’

‘Normally?’

‘Yes,’ Lisa holds the eye contact, ‘normally for a person with a healthy heart…not for an old man dying of a heart condition.’

‘My blood did this?’ Lani asks quietly.

‘In truth we don’t know,’ Lisa says with sad shake of her head.

‘But in our combined medical experience,’ the deep male voice makes Lani turn quickly as Heathcliff walks further into the room, ‘old men with heart conditions do not suddenly get better.’

Lani blinks quickly as she looks off to the side, ‘can I go now?’

‘We want you to stay,’ Lisa says in a tone too gentle.

‘I’m going,’ Lani says.

‘Lani, we really want you to stay so we can find out what’s happening…happened to you…’

She looks at the older bearded doctor as the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, ‘I want to go.’

‘Lani.’

She spins again to see Maddox walking into the room from the main entrance.

‘Maddox! How’s everyone? They okay? Did anyone else get hurt?’

‘No, just you,’ he replies, ‘they told you then?’

‘About him?’ Lani asks nodding at the old man, ‘yes but…where’s Howie and the…’

‘Asleep in their rooms. We need to run tests on you all and find out how…’

‘I’m going to the rooms,’ Lani interrupts him, ‘I’ll wait with the others.’

‘They’re asleep, Lani,’ Maddox watches her closely, his own voice gentle and unchallenging.

Lani takes him in, the easy stance he holds with his arms resting at his sides. The atmosphere in the room charged and heavy, ‘what’s going on?’ She finally gives voice to the creeping sensation plucking at her insides. ‘I’m going now…right now…’

‘Easy,’ Maddox smiles as he takes a step forward, ‘nothing bad happening here, Lani,’ his tone is soft and relaxed, ‘you cured an old man about to die…they put your blood in him and…’

‘Awesome,’ Lani drops her head an inch to widen her peripheral vision, ‘come tell me about it in the rooms with the others…’

‘Lani, whatever got inside you has changed you,’ Maddox says quickly, ‘look at how you healed. Look at you!’

‘What about me?’

‘You look radiant,’ Lisa says from behind.

‘I’m freaking out right now,’ Lani says, ‘I’m getting the feeling you don’t want me to go.’

‘Lani, what if the thing inside you can heal others,’ Maddox says, ‘what if you can stop other people dying too?’

‘That’s great,’ Lani swallows, ‘but please, I’d really rather talk about this with the others.’

‘We’ll let them come over when they’ve woken up,’ Heathcliff says with what he hoped would be a paternal tone but instead his words cause an inward wince from Maddox.

‘Let them?’ Lani picks up on the choice of words instantly, ‘let them? This is our fort…I’m going…’

‘Lani, you’ve only got bra and knickers on,’ Lisa says quickly, ‘we’ll get you some clothes.’

‘Fuck the clothes,’ she heads down the aisle towards Maddox. Her threat perception picking up that he is the only viable threat in the room and knowing full well he carries a pistol on the back of his belt. The whole thing is creeping her out and the claxon in her head screams to get out, go now, run…danger close.

‘Lani,’ Maddox spreads palms towards her, ‘you got to stay here okay?’

‘Not okay, Maddox.’

‘Sorry, Lani…’

‘Maddox!’ She snaps, ‘do not pull a gun on me,’ she watches as his right hand reaches behind his back.

‘You’re staying…’ he says firmly, ‘listen…please just listen…’

‘You pull that gun and you know what will happen,’ she stands her ground and points at him.

‘You’ve changed. You’re physiology has changed. Lani, you saved that man from dying. What you have…whatever is inside you can help people, can help us…’

‘I get it,’ she says without blinking, ‘and I said we could talk in the rooms with the others…do not stop me, Maddox.’

‘Lani, I’m sorry…but…’

‘You force me to stay and all hell will break lose you fool,’ she says quickly, ‘you’ve got ten heavily armed and very experienced people across the way that will not…’

‘You’re staying.’

‘Dave,’ Lani says with a shake of her head, ‘you have no idea what that man can do.’

‘Then don’t let that happen.’

Lani stares at Maddox then turns to look back at Lisa and Heathcliff further back. Movement at the back of the room as Darius steps into view holding an assault rifle gripped and ready.

‘You idiots,’ Lani sighs, ‘we would have stayed…we would have done anything to sort this out…’

‘Cool,’ Maddox shrugs with his right hand still behind his back, ‘do that then. Stay and let us sort this out.’

‘Like this?’

‘What? Shit, Lani,’ Maddox grins, ‘you can’t blame us for wanting to protect you.’

‘Protect me?’

‘Protect what you are.’

‘What we’ll do,’ Lani says slowly, ‘is let me go and talk to the others and we’ll discuss it round the table like we normally do.’

‘You’ll go and find Marcy.’

‘What?’

‘You’ll go find Marcy,’ Maddox repeats, ‘and we can’t let that happen. We can’t let you go back out there knowing what you are and what you can do. There’s no way you’ll split your team and you stay here while the others go…’

‘I’m going,’ Lani rolls her eyes disdainfully as she steps towards Maddox.

‘Wait!’

‘Or what? You’ll shoot me? Shoot the girl with the cure for old men with bad hearts?’

‘No,’ Maddox holds her gaze levelly, ‘but we will sedate you if we have to.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Lani smiles slowly and drops her hands to her sides as she slides her left foot back a fraction.

Maddox notices the stance and brings his right hand round to the front, showing Lani the open palm, ‘no need for this.’

‘Let me go then.’

‘You have to stay here.’

‘Maddox, when Howie and the rest wake up they’ll…’

‘That has been planned for,’ Maddox cuts across her words as a sinking sensation hits Lani in the stomach.

‘What?’ She asks softly.

‘You are the same as Howie…and Cookey and now Blowers so…’

‘Blowers?’

‘Blowers was bitten on the arm during the fight. He’s immune too.’

Lani reels from the news, her heart ramping up with the sudden turn of events and the situation rapidly getting out of control.

‘There’s no need for this,’ she says quickly, ‘if…my god, if I knew my blood could do that,’ she waves a hand towards the old man, ‘or…I mean if any of us thought for a second we could do that we’d do exactly what you wanted.’

‘You wouldn’t,’ Maddox says with a shake of his head, ‘Howie is an amazing leader but…’

‘But what?’

‘But he’s on a mission and,’ Maddox pauses to think, ‘if we…’ he stops again.

‘If we what?’ Lani prompts, ‘what?’

‘You wouldn’t stay in here, you know you wouldn’t,’ Maddox replies heavily, ‘Howie’s driven to…to do whatever he thinks he needs to do…’

‘Saving everyone!’ Lani says, ‘doing exactly what he’s being doing the whole time…if he suspected his blood, or my blood or any of us could help people he’d do exactly the right thing.’

‘There’s another consideration to this, Lani.’ Lisa says quietly from behind. Lani doesn't turn but drops her head an inch to acknowledge the comment.

‘I get it,’ she says, ‘but it won’t happen.’

‘Something in you made you heal. That something is making this man heal from a condition that was killing him…’

‘I said I get it.’

‘But what if you turn? What if you have a delayed reaction? What if this man has a delayed reaction? What if the virus is mutating?’

‘Like I said. It won’t.’

‘Viruses mutate all the time. The common cold. Ebola. HIV…they…’

‘I heard you and I said it won’t happen.’

‘How do you know, Lani?’

‘Stop saying my bloody name,’ she spins to stare angrily at the doctor, ‘it’s a form of manipulation that I do not find acceptable.’

‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.’

‘If we were going to have turned we would have done it days ago. We’ve killed thousands of them…don’t you think we would have been stopped by now? It sends more and more against us and we still kill them.’

‘Mutation,’ Lisa says simply, ‘you’re suggesting the current virus has a hive mind or a conscious awareness of self. If that is the case then the strain you have may be different…the hive mind in the others is not the same as in you.’

‘Conjecture.’

‘We have to work with what we have,’ Heathcliff says.

‘What? Wild guesses?’

‘Lani, they’re…’

‘Stop…saying…my…’

‘Sorry! Look, Lani. We’re doing the best we can with what limited information we have. You might be infected…you might be a carrier…you might have saved that man,’ Lisa says imploringly.

‘See sense,’ Heathcliff says, ‘this is the best for everyone.’

‘We brought you here,’ Lani says, ‘we risked our lives again and again to find you and bring you back.’

‘And everyone is grateful,’ Maddox says carefully, ‘but situations change and things happen and we’ve got to adapt as we go. You are staying here, Lani. Howie and the others will be confined to their rooms but they’ll be safe. If I honestly thought you would all stay here and stay safe I’d have done it that way…but I know Howie won’t relinquish his weapons and Dave is too dangerous even without weapons…I’ve thought this through and this is my decision for it to happen like this.’

‘Against our will?’

‘There’s no need for…’

‘Say it,’ Lani demands, ‘admit you are doing this against our will. Say it out loud.’

‘Shoe fits,’ Maddox shrugs, ‘yeah, against your will but know this,’ he takes a step forward as his voice drops in tone, ‘I will do whatever it takes to protect the people of this fort and everyone who turns up here and…’

‘Like we did.’

‘Yes, but the situation has changed and your team is now at the crux of the issue. Either you are infected and therefore a danger to everyone here, or you are not…but with what happened when we put your blood into that man we must…must take whatever steps are necessary and if that means…’

‘Fuck off,’ Lani spits, ‘I’m leaving right now.’

‘Don’t do it,’ Maddox warns as his right arm once more goes behind his back.

‘Better shoot me then,’ she walks at him, confident in the knowledge after everything said that Maddox won’t risk her life. That he would have calculated that a gunshot will carry in the fort which will wake the others and bring them running.

‘On you,’ Maddox brings the hand round to the front and grips the handle of the weapon held pointed at Lani.

She looks down and feels her heart sink as he fires, ‘you prick,’ she utters the words as the barbs of the tazer shoot from the bright yellow device and sink into the flesh of her exposed stomach.

Seven

‘What happen?’

‘They sedated her.’

‘You said this,’ Lenski remains poker faced but watches Maddox closely, ‘you say this happen.’

‘I tried talking to her but…’

‘Oh she never to listen,’ Lenski cuts him off, ‘I not listen if you do this to me. What now? You wake Howie?’

‘We’re ready,’ Maddox stares down the fort at the crews positioned directly outside the old armoury rooms. All of them now equipped with assault rifles and fresh ammunition. The fort occupants have been pushed back to create a sterile area immediately beyond the crews and told it’s for their own safety as one of the group inside could be infected.

The mere mention of the infection being in the fort swept like wild fire and within minutes the survivors were gathering as far away as possible with hunted and frightened looks etched on their weathered faces.

‘Committed now,’ Maddox says before breathing out noisily through his nose.

‘You doubt this?’

‘No but…’

‘The man he living now, Lani and the others they must understand this. We have many here…many more they come here. We do this for the many.’

‘Lilly,’ Maddox nods at the young woman striding across the fort towards them, ‘does she know?’

‘I tell her,’ Lenski admits, ‘she had to know.’

‘Sure.’

‘What the hell?!’

‘Lilly, just wait…’

‘You cannot do this, Maddox.’

‘It’s done.’

‘What’s done?’ She demands and comes to a stop directly in front of him, hands on hips and a look of defiance clear on her face.

‘Lani, she’s been told.’

‘Told what? What’s going on?’

‘I tell you,’ Lenski says, ‘I tell you this.’

‘You are holding Lani in the hospital and the others in their rooms. Is that right? And you’re doing it because they…’

‘Lani’s blood was given to a man dying from a heart condition,’ Maddox keeps his tone soft but firm, ‘we thought he’d turn. He didn’t turn. He didn’t die of the heart problem either. He got better. He’s still getting better.’

Lilly listens and forces the initial fury from her tone and manner. The crews facing the armoury armed to the teeth and every single one of them looking serious. The wheels are in motion and the situation is evolving rapidly. She knows they didn’t tell her straight away because they knew what her reaction would be.

‘That is amazing,’ Lilly makes herself nod and appear impressed, ‘I mean…and the doctors have verified this?’

‘He’s unconscious,’ Maddox admits, ‘but his heart rate, blood pressure and other visible signs all indicate he’s recovering. They expect him to wake up any time now.’

‘Gosh,’ Lilly lifts her eyebrows then nods, ‘and it was Lani’s blood that was given to him.’

‘That’s right,’ Maddox tilts his head a fraction of an inch as he picks up the minute details of her posture and tone and in those few seconds his respect for the girl rises significantly.

‘I understand,’ Lilly says, ‘and I assume you are considering that the disease that got into Lani has somehow changed her? Lenski told me she has healed far quicker than she should. So again I assume you, or the doctors, think Lani’s immunity has somehow coupled with the disease to give her a greater ability to heal herself and that it was passed to the heart patient.’

Maddox nods as she talks, ‘correct. That is the assumption we are working from. We don’t know anything for fact but if Lani is infected or a carrier then we cannot take the risk of her exposing others. On the flip side, if she has the ability to recover in ways far beyond the normal human body then again we cannot risk her doing anything that could jeopardise her own safety.’

‘I agree,’ Lilly takes her turn to nod while Maddox speaks, ‘but forgive me speaking out of turn, Maddox. It does not feel right that you have forced to remain in the hospital against her will.’

‘Okay, I understand your concern but…’

‘And I spent time with Nick,’ she continues with a diplomatic look, ‘and know first-hand the honourable intentions of his team, especially Mr Howie. Surely if he was told what had happened he would stay here and allow the tests to be done without the need for force.’

‘And I factored that in my considerations. Howie is driven to find out where this infection came from and how it can be stopped…but not in the same way we are.’

‘How so?’

‘He knows he is immune. That gives him an element of recklessness. Same with Lani and now of course with Cookey and Blowers. They are more likely to place themselves in harms way because they are immune.’

‘I see, but again I would respectfully point out that if you simply spoke to them they would most likely concede to your request to remain within the fort for a period of time.’

‘Which would last about a day. They’ve been fighting non-stop. They couldn’t stop now for anything…’

‘Oh I don’t think so,’ Lilly allows a tactical smile to form on her face, ‘I think given the chance to lounge about the fort getting in everyone’s way and eating us out of house and home would be the blessing they are craving. Plus of course, Nick would get to spend some time with me…’

‘They want Marcy,’ Maddox interrupts her with his own strategically deployed smile, ‘they will go for Marcy.’

‘Do they even know where she is?’

‘She’ll be close.’

‘Yes. I see your point but no, I do not agree. I think a simple conversation outlining what you had established and they would stay here and do as bid.’

‘What if they didn’t? Lilly, if they step outside those rooms with weapons we would never stop them. Not with Dave and Clarence on their side…they’re all highly skilled fighters now and would wipe this place out in seconds…’

‘Why would they ever do that?’

‘They are infected, Lilly,’ Maddox says seriously, ‘the experiment with Lani proves that. Yes it’s helping the old man now but the doctors have all said it could be a delayed reaction. He could still turn. Mr Howie and his group could still turn and with their skills and knowledge they’d kill everyone…not just in here but everyone they came into contact with. They would be unstoppable. They alone could wipe out what few survivors are left. Have you heard them joke about being thankful Dave is on their side?’

‘Of course, Nick told me they talk about it sometimes.’

‘Imagine Dave turned. Imagine Dave as one of them.’

‘Howie…I mean Mr Howie would never let it happen.’

‘How would he stop it? None of them could stop Dave.’

‘Meredith would,’ she lets the smile show again but knows she’s lost the argument.

‘She’d try,’ Maddox allows the point, ‘but we can’t base our sole chance of survival on a dog. It has to be this way. I’m sorry, Lilly.’

Eight

‘Fucking hell!’

The voice has me on my feet before my eyes have opened and already moving towards the door that Dave has reached. Sounds of movement from within the armoury as everyone wakes up to rush into the middle room.

It hits me within a few steps and causes instant stinging in my eyes and I’m bent double almost gagging.

‘What the fuck?’ Nick exclaims and turns away.

‘What?’ Clarence lumbers into the room wearing just underpants and holding a broom with a double handed grip like an axe with the bristly end inches above his head, ‘holy shit…oh my god…’ he drops the broom and staggers backwards.

‘We’re so fucked,’ Cookey drops to his knees, ‘this is it…the end…’

‘We’re done for Cookey,’ Nick sags against the wall with his hands clutching his head.

‘I know, Nick,’ Cookey wails, ‘been nice knowing you.’

‘You too, buddy.’

‘Buddy? Did you just call me buddy?’ Cookey looks up with a confused look.

‘Can’t hear you,’ Nick grunts, ‘my senses are shutting down…I’m fading…I can’t take it…’

‘Hold in there….buddy,’ Cookey says, ‘Mr Howie…make it go away!’

‘Fuck that…every man for himself.’

‘What about me?’ Paula asks from the doorway of the room she shared with Roy.

‘Who said that?’ Cookey cries out, ‘can’t see you…can’t hear…’

‘Oh grow up,’ she says with a sigh, ‘it’s just dog shit.’

‘It’s not dog shit,’ Nick wails, ‘it’s toxic waste…’

‘Infected toxic waste,’ Cookey adds, ‘Blowers…come out and smell this.’

‘Fuck off,’ Blowers muffled voice rings out.

‘Blowers, really…it’s really bad…come and smell it.’

‘I don’t want to smell it. Fuck off.’

‘Mr Howie, make Blowers come and smell it,’ Cookey half laughs as he gags and moves quickly away from the nearest dollop of liquid shit plastered across the floor.

‘Who…’ Clarence coughs and takes a breath from the safety of his hand plastered over his own mouth, ‘who shut the bloody dog in?’

‘Door was open,’ I turn away and let the tears drip from my eyes.

‘Someone closed it,’ Clarence says needlessly, ‘and that person will be in here cleaning this shit up…how has she done so much?’

‘She ate a lot,’ Nick replies, ‘we were feeding her beans and canned meat.’

‘And tuna,’ Cookey adds.

‘And canned sausages and she was drinking tea from a bowl,’ Blowers calls out.

‘You can’t be part of this conversation,’ Cookey yells, ‘only the truest people who have experienced the smell can be part of this conversation.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘She needs proper dog food,’ Paula states and retreats a few steps as her initial bravery wears off.

‘Fuck! That is bad,’ Blowers gets to the doorway and starts chuckling at the sight of the ground covered in thick puddles of shit, ‘she looks happy though,’ he nods to the far corner and the sight of Meredith flat on her back with her four legs in the air and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. She senses the attention and gently wags her tail as her back legs twitch.

‘You can be part of the conversation now,’ Cookey nods solemnly.

‘Mr Howie, I saw Cookey close the door before he went to sleep,’ Blowers says.

‘I did not! I didn’t…really I didn’t…’

‘I saw it too,’ Nick holds a hand up.

‘Liars! You’re all liars…’

‘Fuck this,’ I can’t help but laugh at the sight and absurdity of it all, ‘I’m getting out…last one in here cleans it up.’

The stupid words spark an all-out run for the door as we hop and jump the patches of shit as the three lads descend into the inevitable scrap. Clarence uses the broom end to hook Blowers and yank him back with a yelp. Roy is out of the room and rushing ahead. Dave walks calmly safe in the knowledge no one would dare touch him. In underpants and Paula in shorts and a t shirt we fight, push, pull and gag our way towards the door and as one we burst out into the warm but clean air of the fort.

‘Fresh air!’ Cookey sinks to his knees in a dramatic gesture with his arms held up to the sky.

‘Cookey was the last one out,’ Blowers laughs.

‘Confirmed,’ Nick says.

‘Was not…it was…er…’

‘Yeah go on,’ Blowers laughs as Dave strolls out last.

‘Um…Dave…’ Cookey mutters.

‘Mr Howie…’

‘You telling Dave to clean the shit up then?’ Nick laughs.

‘Like fuck am I,’ Cookey says.

‘Mr Howie…’

‘Dave, you got to clear the shit up,’ I say with tears falling down my face half from the putrid smell and half from laughing so much.

‘Mr Howie!’

Roy’s voice snaps my glance up and out. I go quiet. We all go quiet. Silence amongst us as Cookey gets slowly to his feet.

Without a word uttered we range out into a line with hands at our sides and a total lack of humour.

Weapons pointed at us. Assault rifles. Shotguns. Pistols. Rifles. Maddox’s crews all holding weapons in steady hands and not a smile or a smirk amongst them. Dead silence in the fort and my eyes sweep across the long line as I take in the double ranks. The front rank kneeling and the second rank stood over them.

It hits me in the blink of an eye. Images and thoughts surge through my brain as I take in the sight.

‘Easy now,’ I say calmly, ‘lower the weapons.’ Not a flicker of movement from them.

‘LOWER YOUR WEAPONS,’ Dave’s voice booms with such ferocity it makes nearly every single one of them twitch and I’m surprised they didn’t start firing.

‘Dave, not now…stand down,’ I drop my head and speak the words softly, ‘and don’t attack them for fuck’s sake,’ I add hastily at the thought of Dave attacking a double rank of armed people wearing just his underpants. He’d probably still win.

A low growl signals the arrival of Meredith and I turn to see Nick grabbing her quickly.

‘Maddox?’

‘Here,’ he walks into view from the left side but stops short of moving into the way of the pointed guns.

‘Lani turned?’

‘No. She’s fine.’

‘So she healed then.’

‘She has, Mr Howie,’ that he uses my formal name gives me some hope out of this.

‘And what?’

‘We took her blood and put it into an old man dying of a heart condition. He didn’t turn and he is getting better from…’

‘Do what?’

He takes a step forward, ‘a patient in the hospital. He was dying. He was dosed high on Morphine. The doctors said he was ready to go any minute. We injected him to see if Lani was a carrier. His heart is getting better now.’

‘So…’ I look towards the weapons, ‘that calls for this does it?’

‘I don’t like having guns pointed at me,’ Clarence says clearly, ‘brings back bad memories. Get them to lower their weapons.’

‘No,’ Maddox says the word respectfully but the firmness of his tone is unmistakable. ‘I’ll explain why we’re…’

‘Lani’s blood saved the old man,’ I cut him off, ‘but you don’t know if he will turn or get better…either way you’re figuring that she…and possible me, Cookey and Blowers have something in us that is either dangerous or a cure for old men with bad hearts. That it?’

‘Pretty much, Mr Howie,’ he nods.

‘So you figured we were a risk to the fort and everyone in here.’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re a prick,’ the words come out a snarl, ‘a fucking prick. We wouldn’t ever do anything to harm this fort…Cookey…what do we do if one of us turns?’

‘Shoot them in the head, Mr Howie,’ his reply is instant.

‘Nick, what would you do if I turned?’

‘I’d shoot you in the head, Mr Howie.’

‘Dave wouldn’t,’ Maddox replies, ‘Dave would never hurt you.’

‘Dave. What would you do if I turned and got shot in the head?...Actually, don’t fucking answer that!’

‘Okay, Mr Howie.’

‘You’re too dangerous,’ Maddox says in an almost apologetic tone of voice, ‘all of you.’

‘Where’s Mo Mo and Jagger?’ I realise the two lads aren’t with us as I spin round to look.

‘With us. We got them out,’ Maddox says, ‘they didn’t want to go but…’

‘Where are they?’

‘Safe.’

‘Who closed the door?’ I ask, ‘the dog has shit all over the bloody floor.’

‘We saw that,’ Maddox says.

‘And you didn’t clear it up?’ I ask him reproachfully, ‘that’s cold, mate.’

‘Sorry,’ he shrugs.

‘No need for all this,’ I motion my head towards the unwavering weapons, ‘we would have just stayed here and done tests and stuff.’

‘I’m sorry. But when I realised Lani was infected we couldn’t take the risk of any of you turning. And you wouldn’t stay here either. You’d find a reason to go and find Marcy.’

‘Yeah,’ I nod glumly, ‘probably.’

‘Maddox,’ Paula steps to my side, ‘is Lani okay?’

‘She’s fine. She’s awake and still in the hospital.’

‘And she knows what’s going on?’ Paula asks.

‘She does.’

‘And she accepted it?’ Paula casts a quick confused look at me before looking back to Maddox.

‘No. She tried to leave.’

‘How did you stop her?’ I ask quickly.

‘She’s not hurt.’

‘How? How did you stop her?’

‘She was sedated by the doctors.’

‘They wouldn’t get close to her,’ I reply in a quiet voice that should be setting alarms off, ‘Lani would destroy everyone in that place if they tried to touch her.’

‘She was tazered,’ he says honestly, ‘and then sedated.’

‘STAND DOWN,’ I turn and shout the order as the team behind me make motion forward. Guns bristle with motion as Maddox waves them to stay still.

‘You tazered Lani?’ I ask him, ‘she’s gonna go fucking nuts, mate.’

‘Probably.’

‘And me,’ I add without taking my eyes from him, ‘know that.’

‘Hence all this,’ Maddox holds a hand out to the ranks of weapons, ‘we need your guns please.’

‘Come and get them,’ Blowers says.

‘Pass them out…disassembled.’

‘What’s that then?’ Cookey asks quietly.

‘Taken apart you thick twat,’ Blowers whispers back.

‘Oh right…nah you can fuck off,’ Cookey says.

‘If you turn,’ Maddox raises his voice but without any inflection of anger, ‘you will kill everyone here…’

‘We won’t turn,’ I say simply.

‘That’s not a chance I am willing to take.’

‘Okay,’ I hold my hands up, ‘me, Cookey and Blowers will stay here, the rest haven’t been cut or bitten so…’

Maddox smiles broadly with a slow shake of his head, ‘yeah and I’m going to let Clarence, Dave and Roy walk about here?’

‘What about me?’ Paula says quickly, ‘I’m dangerous too.’

‘He didn’t say you, Nick,’ Cookey points out, ‘Maddox thinks you’re a pussy.’

‘I do not think that,’ Maddox says.

‘He does,’ Cookey whispers, ‘he told me earlier.’

‘Weapons. Taken apart and thrown outside part by part.’

‘After we get Lani back,’ I say.

‘Lani is staying in the hospital.’

‘Good luck getting the weapons then mate…’ I look up at the sky, ‘it’s evening right? Be getting dark soon.’ I look over at the youths holding the weapons, ‘those guns will be getting heavy about now…how many can you keep watching us?’

‘I like the dark,’ Dave says and his voice, so devoid of expression, is chilling in delivery.

‘You’ve got one door,’ Maddox says, ‘we’ve got lots of weapons and lots of people to hold them. Listen, this doesn't have to be this way. Let us get some tests done and work out where we go from here…’

‘I know where you’re going, dickhead,’ Cookey says.

‘Where’s that then?’ Nick asks, ‘where’s he going?’

‘I dunno, just sounded cool,’ Cookey says, ‘what was that word again?’

‘What word?’ Nick asks.

‘The taken apart word.’

‘Disassembled,’ Nick replies.

‘Dis a what?’

‘Disassembled.’

‘How do you spell it?’

‘Fuck knows, I can’t spell.’

‘Paula…’

‘Not now, Cookey.’

‘Paula, how do you spell dissatakenapart word that Nick just said?’

‘Really?’ She turns to face him, ‘now? You want to know right now?’

I have to suppress the smile as the lads do what they do best and show utter disdain for the threat by making jokes and pissing about.

‘Maddox,’ Cookey calls out, ‘how do you spell that word?’

‘Weapons,’ Maddox refuses to take the bait.

‘Ooh he’s a smart one,’ Nick chuckles.

‘He’s a clever bugger that one,’ Blowers says.

‘Too sharp for toffee,’ Cookey says with a nod.

‘Toffee?’ Blowers asks, ‘what the fuck has it got to do with toffee?’

‘I like toffee,’ Roy says, ‘gets stuck in my teeth though.’

‘All old people like toffee,’ Cookey says.

‘I’m not old,’ Roy points out.

‘Are you over thirty?’ Cookey asks.

‘Thirty nine.’

‘Ancient then.’

‘Weapons…pass them out dissa…take them apart and…’

‘AH,’ Blowers laughs, ‘almost had him.’

‘Say it,’ Cookey urges, ‘say the word.’

‘Don’t piss him off,’ Nick says, ‘he’ll get his mates to shoot us.’

Maddox bursts out with laughter that is genuine and warm, he trails off shaking his head, ‘okay…but Lani stays with us until they get passed out.’

‘How do you know how many we had?’ I ask.

‘Dave always has two,’ Clarence says.

‘And you do,’ I look at Clarence.

‘Ssshhh,’ the big man replies with a mock wink.

‘I had two,’ Blowers says.

‘Did you?’ Cookey says, ‘fucking hell, Blowers. I only had one.’

‘I had three,’ Nick says.

‘We need mops, buckets and a hose,’ Paula says, ‘I am not going back into that room until it’s been cleaned.’

‘And coffee,’ I add, ‘we need coffee and some food.’

‘And cigarettes,’ Nick says.

‘And a ladder...what?’ Cookey asks innocently, ‘might have worked.’

‘You’ll get everything you need,’ Maddox says, ‘I want you to know I am doing this for the safety of everyone and this is my decision to do it this way.’

‘Fair enough,’ I turn away, ‘everyone back in the room with the stinky dog shit…um…just one thing, Maddox,’ I turn back as my team stop knowing exactly what I’m going to say, ‘if Lani is hurt or injured in any way I will…’

‘You’ll get what you need,’ Maddox repeats and suddenly the fury is in my eyes and I know he feels it. He doesn't show it but the look in my eyes silences the fort and I sweep that gaze across every child holding a weapon pointing at me.

‘Boss,’ Clarence whispers.

‘On you,’ I cast a final look at Maddox as I turn away.

‘On me,’ he says as we file back into the room.

Nine

‘Close the door,’ I hold my hand up to silence everyone as we file back into the main room of the old armoury.

‘Good God it stinks to high heaven,’ Paula screws her face up at the piles of dog shit rapidly drying out on the ground.

‘We got anything to clean this mess up?’ I ask while scanning round, ‘find a plastic bag and some toilet roll.’

‘That’s just going to smear it everywhere,’ Paula says, ‘we need mops and buckets of soapy water.’

‘They won’t give it to us,’ I walk over to the table and grab one of the unused yellow bin liners that Lilly brought in earlier.

‘Toilet roll,’ Blowers holds one up and drops down to start cleaning the closest pile of dog mess.

‘Maddox is switched on,’ I drop down next to the mess and take the toilet roll from Blowers and start unwinding a long section, ‘they came in to get Mo Mo and Jagger out so they saw the mess in here. He’ll use it as a bargaining tool to get the weapons.’

‘Are we handing them over?’ Nick asks.

‘Not a chance,’ Clarence shakes his head.

‘Jesus,’ I twist my head away while grabbing handfuls of liquid shit through the thin toilet roll, ‘how many rolls have we got?’

‘One more after that,’ Blowers replies.

‘Rags? Anything else we can use?’

‘Fuckers!’ Cookey exclaims, ‘they’ve taken our clean clothes…they were piled up in the corner.’

‘Someone do an inventory of what we do have,’ I mutter the words out while getting most of the first pile splodged into the yellow bin liner. We work from pile to pile, smearing the shit over the rough concrete floor but getting dollops at a time into the bag.

‘Right,’ I stand up and look round at the smeared patches, ‘what have we got?’

‘Case of water,’ Paula replies, ‘clothes and boots have been taken. We’ve got no food, no toilet roll left…’

‘No cigarettes,’ Nick continues, ‘we’ve all got our assault rifles and the magazines that were in them. Pistols but no hand weapons…they were left in the main room.’

‘Cunts,’ Blowers seethes, ‘cleaned us out while we fucking slept…’

‘We’ve got water and we’ve got weapons,’ I nod quickly, ‘the rest will have to be bargained for.’

‘He’s a cunt,’ Blowers says again, ‘I can’t believe they’ve done this.’

‘They think we’re infected,’ Roy states, ‘you can’t really blame them for taking precautions.’

‘Roy,’ Paula says gently, ‘this might not be the time to take their side,’ she looks round at the thunderous looks being sent towards Roy.

‘He’s right,’ I say quickly, ‘Maddox has thought this through. If he had come to us and said we still would have gone out to find Marcy.’

‘Why didn’t they let us leave then?’ Cookey asks, ‘we’d have been out there and away from everyone.’

‘Because, mate,’ I say slowly, ‘if we turned out there we’d still pose a risk to the fort. We know the layout, how to get inside…and he’s right, the skills we’ve picked up make us too dangerous to be trusted anywhere but in sight and under armed guard.’

‘You’re taking this very well,’ Clarence says to me while looking ridiculous in his underpants.

I snort with dry laughter, ‘I had my hissy fit earlier, that’s enough for me for a while. Right,’ I say decidedly, ‘we need options but before we have options we need information. I want every inch of this place examined for a possible exit point or something we can use to our advantage. Look at the walls, the floor and the ceilings. Look for anything broken or eroding. Blowers and Cookey, you two first in that room,’ I point to the room behind them, ‘then Nick and Clarence will check the same room followed by Paula and Roy and then me and Dave. We’ll all check every room so there is no doubt of anything being missed. Go,’ I nod at them to start.

‘I see your point,’ Paula says, ‘but why don’t we divide the rooms up and all make a start and then cross check each as we…’

I hold my hands out, ‘you sort it out then, but I want every room checked by each pair. Keep it simple and check properly…you two,’ I point at Blowers and Cookey, ‘make a start now and no fucking about.’

‘On it,’ Blowers says as they head off into the first room.

‘I’m going outside, everyone else stay here.’ I head to the door feeling utterly stupid in just my underwear. Once outside I close the door behind me and watch as the crews suddenly notice me and start lifting weapons up to aim in my direction, ‘lads,’ I tut and shake my head, ‘who is meant to be watching?’

The teenagers glance guiltily at each other but I notice most of them are aimed towards the middle.

‘You?’ I point to an older looking girl, ‘you’re the crew chief right? You should be watching us and not chatting. If we’d have burst out we’d have been on you by the time you got those guns up.’

‘Sorry,’ she huffs and looks quickly away.

‘Sorry is not good enough,’ I say firmly, ‘if Maddox tells you to keep watch then you keep watch and the rest of you can stop gawping too,’ I look at the rest and the confused but slightly guilty expressions they offer back.

‘You heard, Mr Howie,’ Maddox’s voice booms out as he walks through the ranks towards me, ‘I said I wanted a close watch and that means you keep watch…’

‘I’m coming over,’ I call out and start strolling as Maddox walks free from the first rank to meet me halfway.

‘What’s up?’ He asks stopping a few feet away.

I peer round him at the crews and lower my voice so just he can hear, ‘don’t be a dick, Maddox. We need a mop and bucket. It fucking stinks in there.’

‘Weapons.’

‘Be decent, mate,’ I say quietly but with an imploring tone, ‘fuck me, Maddox. We’ve been non-stop for sixteen fucking days now. Snatched sleeps, shit food and constant fighting. Downtime will do us good but leaving us in underwear without food, smokes or coffee will drive them nuts…’

‘Weapons.’

‘Look around you. Look at what we gained and what we took. We got this, Maddox and we took you in…’

‘It’s simple. Weapons.’

‘I get it mate,’ I keep my tone level despite the rising anger within me, ‘keep the crews watching us. Keep us under observations and we’ll do whatever tests you want with the doctors but for fuck’s sake don’t treat us like this…mate, be decent.’

‘Pass the weapons out disassembled and you will be provided with everything you need.’

‘Ah you see,’ I screw my face up and shake my head, ‘it’s when you talk to me like that it starts niggling. Do you understand? Don’t talk at me, Maddox. Don’t tell me what we’ll be provided with. You got the power now, mate. But what if the doc’s do tests and find out none of us are infected? What then? You wanna go back to be best mates after treating us like this?’

He holds still and shows no visible reaction to his thoughts.

‘Whatever you think we are,’ I rush on hoping he’s taking it in, ‘just remember what we’ve done. We got the doctors. We got the ammunition. We got the food you are eating and the weapons you’re pointing at us. Send Lilly over with a mop and bucket.’

‘Howie,’ he says as I go to turn away, ‘we’re gonna be needing those weapons. You’re too dangerous to be left with them.’

‘And you don’t get to dominate this entire situation,’ I reply, ‘you don’t treat us like twats and expect we’ll do exactly as you say. Behaviour breeds behaviour, mate. Yeah you’re switched on and you run this place brilliantly and yeah I can see why you’re doing what you’re doing…but you’re still young and despite the confidence you portray you don’t know everything. Your idea is excellent, the execution of the idea is poor as shit. Now get a fucking grip and do things properly!’

Now I walk off and head back in to find the main room empty and everyone off in the side rooms examining them inch by inch

‘Anything?’ Paula steps out leaving Roy running his fingertips over the wall behind her.

‘I tried reasoning with him.’

‘And?’

‘He’s young,’ I sigh and rest my backside against the edge of the table, ‘he’s fucking good at what he does but…you know, I think he realises he’s done this wrong but doesn't know how to fix it or be seen as weak by relenting or changing his mind.’

‘You asked for clothes?’

‘And coffee, food and cigarettes. He just kept saying he wants the weapons.’

‘Can we give them over?’

‘Bad idea,’ Clarence says from the doorway of his room, ‘we’ve got something to bargain with and he won’t come in while we’re still armed.’

‘Makes sense,’ she says, ‘I don’t think there will be a way out of here.’

‘Probably not. It was the armoury,’ I say glumly and fold my arms.

‘We can always think of a distraction to get one out when it’s dark,’ Clarence suggests.

‘Yeah,’ I nod and glance up sharply at a soft knock at the main door, ‘who is it?’

‘Lilly,’ a female voice says muffled by the thick door, ‘Maddox sent me down with a mop and…’

‘Hi,’ I pull the door open smile as Lilly gives me an embarrassed look while holding two mop buckets each with a mop wedged into the soapy water, ‘thank fuck for that, are you allowed in?’

‘I think so,’ she shrugs.

‘Hang on, don’t make things worse,’ I step round her and see Maddox stood amongst the ranks of his armed youths, ‘can she come in?’

He nods but doesn't reply.

‘Lilly!’ Nick comes rushing to the door and takes the buckets from her hands, ‘you okay?’

‘Fine,’ she says and steps into the room with a grimace, ‘nice pants by the way.’

‘Sorry,’ he smiles sheepishly.

‘Nice pants, Nicholas,’ Cookey says as he grabs one of the buckets, ‘hi, Lilly.’

‘Oh my,’ Lilly blushes furiously as the room fills with the team all dressed in various forms of underwear.

‘You get used to it,’ Paula tuts, ‘they’re nice lads really.’

‘No we’re not,’ Blowers laughs, ‘we’re contagious animals that need locking up.’

‘Is Lilly safe?’ Cookey asks with a mock sideways glance at her, ‘we might eat her!’

‘Gobble her all up,’ Blowers says then notices the look on Nick’s face, ‘or we won’t do that at all,’ he adds quickly, ‘will we, Cookey?’

‘Eh, oh…oh no…not at all…’

‘Alex, Simon. Clean please.’

‘Yes, Dave.’

‘Sorry, Dave.’

‘I tried talking Maddox out of it,’ Lilly says quickly, ‘but I didn’t know until after they’d told Lani…’

‘Not your fault,’ I reply, ‘have you seen Lani?’

‘No,’ she shakes her head, ‘I can try after this. Maddox hasn’t lost it or anything…he seems really calm and…like normal?’

‘Yeah I know,’ I say, ‘I spoke to him.’

‘What about Lenski?’ Paula asks.

‘She agrees with Maddox,’ Lilly replies with another apologetic frown, ‘sorry.’

‘Lilly, you don’t have to apologise.’

‘Thanks, Mr Howie…er, I got these…for Nick,’ she pulls a packet of sealed packet cigarettes from her pocket, ‘not just for Nick, er…for everyone.’

‘Shit,’ Nick takes the packet and blinks, ‘bollocks, I mean…er…cheers.’

‘Awkward!’

‘Alex.’

‘Sorry, Dave.’

‘Not that I agree with smoking but I heard you ask for them outside.’

‘Do not light up in here until that stench has gone,’ Paula says firmly.

‘And Maddox said I could bring some coffee over next.’

‘Did he?’ I smile at the thought that maybe our chat had some effect after all, which also means he isn’t so stubborn as being unable to back down.

‘Interesting,’ Paula shoots a quick nod at me, ‘might be a way out then.’

‘Gently,’ I reply.

‘Not that’s it my place to ask but what will happen now?’ Lilly asks, ‘not that Maddox asked me to ask…’ she adds quickly, ‘I mean I’m not a spy or anything…I was just asking!’

‘Lilly, it’s okay,’ Paula smiles warmly at her, ‘we’ll work it out somehow.’

‘I’ll get the coffee and come straight back? Is that okay?’ She looks to me first then Paula.

‘Sure,’ I say, ‘that would be lovely…our door is always open.’

‘Okay, I’ll er…I’ll be right back then,’ she smiles awkwardly at Nick and blushes again before heading out.

‘Nick, close the door,’ I say quickly and wait while he crosses the room and pushes it shut, ‘listen up, keep doing what we’re doing. No aggression, no anger, no nothing like that. Whatever we do now will be fed back to Maddox.’

‘She said she’s not a spy,’ Nick says.

‘And I believe her, but she’s also very intelligent and will read our dynamics like an open book. She already said she tried stopping him and right now she’s about the only friend we’ve got.’

‘We should get her to pass a message to Lani,’ Paula says quietly.

‘That’s not fair, don’t involve her,’ Nick says.

‘We’ve got to do what we can,’ Paula explains, ‘just a message.’

‘Like what?’ Nick asks, ‘what can Lani do?’

‘Create a distraction,’ Dave says.

‘Then what?’ I ask him, ‘we get out of the armoury but then what? We’ve still got the whole of the fort to cross.’

‘Not unless we go out the back,’ Clarence says.

‘Up and over the wall?’ Roy suggests, ‘I could get up the side of the fort here and onto the top…maybe pull a rope up behind me the rest of you can use.’

‘We need to be clear on what we’re escaping from,’ I say to everyone, ‘there is always the option of simply handing our weapons over and staying here. Shit, we’ve earned the downtime and…’

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Paula says with a glance at the door, ‘but no chance. I don’t know about everyone else but I’m not staying here as a prisoner under armed guard. Not after what we’ve done for them…no.’

‘I’m with Paula,’ Clarence says, ‘I’m not risking being a summary execution at the hands of a nineteen year old tyrant who wants to control this place for himself.’

‘I don’t think it’s like that,’ I say with a shake of my head.

‘What if that old man turns?’ Clarence says, ‘they’ll be gunning us down within seconds. Throwing bloody grenades through the door. Christ, it’s hardly a scientific study is it? Taking Lani’s blood and stuffing it in some other poor sod. We could have done that days ago.’

‘Fair one. Right, escape it is then and right now the up and over plan sounds the best. We get Lani to create a distraction then we get Roy out and up the wall. Then we try and get as many out as possible…those that get free sort something out to get the rest of us.’

‘Ssshhh,’ Nick rushes to the door.

‘Coffee,’ Lilly announces brightly. She comes in carrying a big tray full of steaming mugs. A smaller cup is filled with sugar and she’s even put packets of biscuits and milk portions on there for us.

‘Lovely,’ Clarence claps his hands together and starts rubbing them as he heads for the central table, ‘everyone okay out there?’

‘Tense,’ she says quietly, ‘what do you want me to do?’

‘Do?’ I ask while grabbing a mug of coffee.

‘To help,’ she says quietly, ‘what can I do?’

‘What do you mean? We’ve agreed to stay here and do the tests.’

‘Hmmm,’ she looks at me then straight at Nick who tries staring back but blushes and quickly looks away, ‘no, no I don’t think so.’

‘Lilly, look we’re grateful for the coffee but we’d never ask you to do anything that…’

‘Nick saved my life,’ she fixed me with a level look, ‘and he went to rescue my brother. Then you rescued Nick and all of you got my brother out. I like Maddox and can see why he’s doing this but my loyalties are with you. What can I do?’

‘We need to get a message to Lani,’ Nick steps closer to Lilly, ‘if that old man turns they’ll probably try and kill us. So we can’t stay here.’

‘I understand,’ she nods and stares only at Nick, ‘what shall I tell her?’

‘We need a distraction,’ Nick explains, ‘something big enough to draw attention from us so we can get over the wall.’

‘You can’t,’ she says, ‘the wall is too smooth here, I looked when I was coming in. No footholds, no handholds…’

‘I can boost Dave up,’ Clarence steps closer to the conversation.

‘Dave?’ I look at him.

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Right,’ I take a breath, ‘is that yes, Mr Howie I can do it or yes, Mr Howie what do you want?’

‘Yes,’ he nods and stares at me, ‘I can do it.’

‘Good. Distraction. Get Dave up and we try and get out. The distraction will need to be big. Something that goes bang…’

‘Lani won’t be free to get out,’ Nick looks at me, ‘they’ll either have her sedated or restrained.’

‘I can do the distraction,’ Lilly says.

‘No,’ Nick says firmly.

‘Nick, I’m not feeble,’ she says gently, ‘you saved me and my brother, let me help.’

‘A distraction has to be something visual and something audible,’ Dave says, ‘and it must be enough to overcome the training of the soldiers to stay watchful on their posts.’

‘Did they bring the ammunition in yet?’ Blowers asks Lilly.

She nods before replying, ‘they’ve stored them at the back.’

‘The back? Which rooms?’

‘Er, they’ve got double doors.’

‘The workshops,’ I nod, ‘where they made the foot traps before Darren got here.’

‘Can you get in there?’ Blowers asks, ‘get a grenade or something?’

‘Fuck’s sake, Blowers,’ Nick says with a hard glare, ‘that’s asking a bit much.’

‘Sorry, mate,’ Blowers says instantly, ‘forget it.’

‘They’ve got a couple of the guards up there,’ Lilly replies, ‘if I can get in…what am I looking for?’

‘Grenades,’ Blowers ignores the look from Nick, ‘you know what they look like?’

‘Are they the same as on television?’

‘Exactly the same,’ Blowers nods, ‘get a few and head into the gap between the walls and find all the old vehicles that got mangled in the storm…chuck the grenades in that lot.’

‘Blowers,’ Clarence snaps, ‘that’s a bloody good idea…especially if they’ve still got fuel left in them.’

‘Are you right handed?’ Blowers asks, ‘good, hold the grenade in your right hand with your fingers holding the little metal bar in place. There’s a metal loop at the top, you twist and pull firmly. The grenade will not be armed until you release the metal bar which is only done when you throw it, you with me?’

‘Go on,’ Lilly nods and watches his hands as he pretends to hold a grenade and loop the forefinger of his left hand through the imaginary hoop, twist and pull it clear.

‘Big throw,’ he says, ‘but not like as hard as you can…that’s when mistakes happen and you drop it or fumble…throw it overhand like this,’ he mocks a throw with a smooth overhead motion, ‘it will detonate after about three or four seconds.’

‘Three or four seconds, got it.’

‘They won’t see it,’ Dave says, ‘it has to be both visual and audible.’

‘What do you suggest?’ I ask him.

‘Throw the grenades in the fort.’

‘Dave, are you being serious?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie. A distraction has to be both visual and…’

‘Audible, yeah got it. Lilly, don’t throw the grenades in the fort.’

‘But Dave is right, Mr Howie,’ she says with a purposeful look at me, ‘if I heard a big bang outside the walls I would just hide. I wouldn’t try and see it.’

‘Back gate,’ Cookey offers, ‘if we get that open we stand a better chance of getting out.’

‘The risk of injury is too great,’ I say while thinking.

‘What’s the er…’ Lilly stops to think for a second, ‘I mean, when the grenade goes off…how far can it cause damage?’

‘The blast radius?’ I ask and we all look at Dave.

‘I was in the army too,’ Clarence points out.

‘How far is it then?’ I ask him.

‘I don’t know,’ he shrugs, ‘Dave?’

‘Five metres to cause fatality, fifteen metres to cause casualties but if the fragments are unhindered they will go much further.’

‘What would happen if I threw one into the ammunition store?’ Lilly asks to a stunned silence.

‘Yeah don’t do that,’ Clarence says softly.

‘Good distraction,’ Dave nods.

‘And everyone is dead and we can just stroll out,’ Clarence beams, ‘do not throw the grenade in the ammunition room.’

‘If I can get on top of the walls I can drop them up there,’ she says thoughtfully, ‘there’s dips and little areas of concrete…would that be okay?’

‘Very good,’ Dave says, ‘get near the front, drop them into the vehicles as Simon suggested and wherever they will be both seen and heard as a distraction works when it is both…’

‘Visual and audible, got it,’ Lilly beams at Dave which makes us all hold our breath for a second as I’m normally the only person that would dare to cut Dave off mid-sentence. Her smile seems to win him over and he nods almost happily, which for Dave means he doesn't try and kill her.

‘When do I do it?’ She asks with enthusiasm, ‘do we synchronise watches?’

‘Er, I wouldn’t know how to,’ I admit, ‘actually, how do they do that on the movies? They do it in like two seconds. Why don’t they all have to take them off and press the buttons to select the time change and…’

‘Countdown timer,’ Clarence says, ‘but I’ve never actually done it. Have you?’ He asks Dave.

‘Never,’ Dave says.

‘It gets dark about ten,’ I say, ‘we’ll need to leave it a few hours…let the crews get relaxed…we can make some noise in here so they think we’re pissing about…’

‘Lilly,’ Maddox calls from just outside the door, ‘everything okay?’

‘Coming,’ she calls back quickly.

‘Everyone sod off,’ I whisper urgently, ‘leave Nick and Lilly in here.’

We all depart the room as I whisper, ‘aim for two in the morning and tell Lani to get out.’

We get into the side rooms and I peer through the crack in the door as Lilly suddenly flings herself into Nick’s arms.

‘Oh,’ Maddox’s voice is closer, he must be at the door.

She plants her lips to his and he freezes for a second before visibly softening into the kiss and I can’t help the warm smile on my face as I look away.

‘I’d better go,’ she says to Nick, ‘say thanks to the others for giving us some space.’

‘Will do,’ he beams and rocks back on his feet.

‘Nick, you alright,’ Maddox says.

‘Eh?’ Nick turns slowly to the door, ‘er…eh?’

The door closes and we give it a few seconds before heading back into the main room and I watch as Paula rushes to Nick with a bed blanket which she quickly wraps round his waist, ‘go and sit down for a minute,’ she urges gently.

‘Eh?’ He asks again.

‘Nick, go and sit down in a quiet room for a minute,’ she leads him by the elbow towards one of the rooms as Cookey and Blowers start pissing themselves with laughter.

‘Why?’ Nick asks slowly.

‘Cos you got a stiffy in your underpants, mate,’ Cookey lets rip with an evil cackle.

‘Leave him alone,’ Paula says with a stare of daggers at the two lads.

‘She kissed me,’ Nick says dreamily.

‘We saw,’ Paula replies softly.

‘I think everyone saw,’ Cookey laughs.

Ten

She looks round the table in the old police offices and takes in the faces of Maddox, Lenski, Darius and three of the four doctors, noticing that once again Doctor Carlton has chosen not to take part in the group discussion.

‘How were they?’ Andrew asks leaning forward in his seat and the worry lines on his face appear that little bit deeper.

‘Completely normal,’ Lilly replies, ‘the lads were messing about. Dave was as quiet as normal…Mr Howie and the rest,’ she shrugs, ‘just like before.’

‘Did they say anything?’ Andrew leans forward again.

‘They said lots of things,’ Lilly smiles with a snap decision to dumb down her intelligence, ‘they wanted to know if I’d seen Lani, if she was okay…if everyone else was okay…if the fort was okay, if Lenski was okay,’ a gentle tilt of the head side to side as she reels the list off, ‘Mo Mo and Jagger…if they were okay…like I said, they were the same as before. Except they were all in underpants.’

‘Lilly,’ Maddox watches her with just the faintest hint of amusement behind his eyes, ‘they asked you to pass a message to Lani.’

‘Is that a question or a fact?’ She asks flatly, completely forgetting to dumb the intelligence down.

‘Did they ask you to pass a message to Lani?’

‘They did,’ she says fighting an urge to stare at him knowing that would appear confrontational.

‘What was it?’ He asks softly as the atmosphere in the room charges.

‘They want me to tell her not to worry, that they are all okay and everything will be alright and to do as you say.’

She senses the shift and knows she delivered the line with perfect execution. Everyone was ready to hear a plot or a plan to escape or fight back, but the words strike a chord and she notices a fleeting look of guilt on Andrew Stone’s face as he sinks back into his chair.

‘Is that it?’ Maddox asks.

‘Am I a spy?’ She asks, ‘is this why you told me to go in there? Am I an agent working for you? I watched my father get beaten to death and my friend raped while she got beaten to death and I watched my brother get kidnapped. Nick saved my life and risked himself to find my brother. Howie and the rest then risked their own lives getting Nick and my brother and all of the children out there…’

‘You are not a spy,’ Maddox says.

She pushes on, mindful of the looks being cast between the doctors and the uncomfortable shift in position from Lenski, ‘are you a tyrant?’

‘What is this word?’ Lenski asks.

‘A tyrant is someone who rules from fear and force,’ Lilly looks round the room, ‘and you’re scaring me with this interrogation.’

‘You are not being interrogated,’ Maddox says simply, ‘but we need to know what they are planning or doing. We have the welfare of…’

‘I am being interrogated,’ Lilly looks round and holds Lisa Franklins gaze for a long second, ‘I was told to come in here. I was told to deliver the cleaning supplies and coffee to them. What choice do I have? I rely on this fort for the safety of my brother. I have to do as you bid.’

‘It’s really not like that,’ Maddox says.

‘Can I go then? Leave the fort?’

‘Pardon?’ Andrew asks.

‘This is no longer a safe place for my brother. You have teenagers armed with machine guns and a girl tied up in a hospital bed after being tazered. This is the first step towards a tyrannical rule and I do not want to stay here. If those children out there start firing then anyone could get caught with a stray bullet. I want to leave.’

‘Lilly,’ Maddox sighs with the first show of stress, ‘you are perfectly safe and everything is under control.’

‘Control is exactly what it is,’ she says, ‘control of the people who have given us this place to live…and those people kept saying it was a free place where people could come and go as they saw fit. I believe that you have tazered a person who opposed your view and then injected her with sedatives against her will. Not just you,’ she looks at Maddox, ‘but the ordinary and decent people in this room have chosen a course of conduct that by any standards would be abhorrent. I am a fifteen year old girl with the care of a young child and right now I would rather take my chances out there than risk being in here being controlled by this round table of despots.’

A stunned silence by the eloquent words given by an earnest young lady. Her chair scrapes the ground as she stands up, ‘you’ve told the people that one of Mr Howie’s team might be infected.’

Maddox looks up sharply, realising the error of judgement he made.

‘That is not true. You have purposefully left out important facts to gain support for your actions. Is that not the work of a tyrant? I’ll be leaving first thing in the morning and I will be telling the other survivors the truth of what is happening.’

‘Stop,’ Maddox gets to his feet in a fluid motion.

‘Maddox,’ Andrew says quickly, alarmed at the expression on the young man’s face.

‘Will you tazer me too?’ Lilly asks as she locks eyes across the table, ‘and then tell everyone I might be infected?’

She steps into the open air and walks steadily across the fort without thought to her direction or purpose but just to walk and ease the trouble within her soul. A gentle hum of noise from the survivors easing down into quietness as the day draws to an end.

Two crews remain watching the door of the old armoury. Weapons held ready, eyes alert and she notices the lack of banter between them. They look mean now, young and feral but now guided and armed and under the supervision of a crew chief who stands as easy and relaxed as Maddox would. The sight sends a chill running through and she looks to see the other crews are all nearby. Sitting and talking quietly with more weapons within reach.

A sudden vision of the future dark and bleak as the power is held by those who take up the guns. The older survivors cling to the values they held dear of a society fallen and gone. They see the youths as the rightful authority now.

They even look different, something has changed. She notices the clothing they wear is dark, like a uniform of sorts. Black tops, vests and t shirts. Like a paramilitary force. Something done amongst them as they seek to look the same and be a part of the gang.

The words she spoke in the meeting spilled from her mouth as fast as they entered her head but the truth in them sinks low within her gut. This is the way of things now. Tyranny doesn't start with a maniac doing bad things. It starts with someone doing an action they believe in and having the ability to convince others of their vision.

Maddox is charming. He has a presence that makes you want to listen to him, to watch the way he speaks and the so subtle inflections of his tone and manner. He is inspiring and very capable and all the more dangerous because of it.

What he is doing now he is doing for the right reasons. But the road to hell is paved with good intentions. He thinks clearly and maps his own actions and the reactions it will garner. A game of chess in his mind where all the pieces are laid out.

That he feels the sense of wrongness is palpable. He is not an evil man, Lilly knows this. She senses the kindness within him and the desire to do right. But the life he comes from is not the same as hers. The values he holds dear are not the same and these youths worship the words that fall from his mouth the way the team worship Howie.

A tight ball of fear knots in her stomach and suddenly she sees things very differently to just a few hours ago.

The survivors clustering at the back in a self-imposed suppression of views, opinions and thoughts simply for the fear of being cast out or killed.

The journey Lilly took to get here is scarred in her memory and the mere thought brings the emotions flooding back but what she endured has been endured by every man, woman and child here.

That’s not our way.

Those were the words Nick kept saying. Like a code of ethics born between them. A way of doing the right things for the right reasons. Not the wrong thing for the right reasons. Howie’s way is clear. The right thing at the right time. You do good because that is expected. You help those that cannot help themselves. You take the fight to the bad guys and never give in. You never leave a man or woman behind. You always fight for them. You do the right thing for the right reasons.

You carve a path through the misery and abject terror and you bring a ray of sunshine and hope. You show others that ordinary people can do extraordinary things. They sacrificed everything to gain this place and never gave up and she knows with an instinct stronger than anything she has ever felt that every member of Mr Howie’s team would have run into death in that house to save Nick and the children.

That’s our way.

Choose a side. Pick a team. Gain that commitment and strive to be the best you can.

That’s our way.

She threads through the fort with a knowledge that the decision she has just made will end her life but it will free those that gave her that life back and those people will ensure everyone else remains free.

‘Billy,’ she spots her brother near the vehicle ramp.

‘Lilly!’ On his feet and he rushes forward to fling his arms around her neck.

‘What are you doing?’ She asks gently as the tears start to prick the back of her eyes.

‘We’re gonna have a story.’

‘Going to have a story, not gonna,’ she rebukes mildly.

‘Going to then,’ he smiles a toothy grin, ‘will you stay for the story?’

‘I’d love to,’ she pulls him back in for another cuddle, ‘but I’ve got work to do.’

‘Please,’ he says muffled with his head pressed tight against her shoulder.

‘You know I love you, Billy.’

‘Love you too,’ he stays pressed against her, feeling the maternal love given by his big sister.

‘I always will,’ she whispers into his ear, ‘I will always love you.’

‘I know.’

‘Be good. Grow strong and be good, always be good.’

‘I will Lilly.’

‘I have to go now.’

‘Will you come back for the story?’

‘I’ll try,’ she bites the sob down, gritting her teeth and forcing a smile. She kisses his head tenderly and smooths his hair down, ‘I will try.’

‘Okay.’

‘Everyone ready?’ A woman walks past holding a big picture book.

‘Enjoy your story,’ Lilly lets him go as his attention switches instantly to the gathering group of children.

She stands with a heart fracturing into a thousand pieces as she watches the last surviving member of her family take his seat in the half circle of children and for a second she falters, hesitant, unwilling to move away. She could sit down and listen. Be here with the children and listen to the story then tuck Billy in and help with the others.

She turns to see the dark figures of the youths across the open ground of the fort, the long barrels of the weapons they hold and the vision floods back as her top lip threatens to curl up with the coldness of the decision made.

Lilly heads away from the children and scoops to pick up a clipboard left at the bottom of the ramp. She plucks the pen free from the metal clasp and while walking she taps the end against the hard edge of the board. Her face is set, determined and she feels calm now safe in the knowledge that Nick will always be there for her brother and that’s what Billy needs. He needs Nick and people like him. He needs Mr Howie to be here and watching. Clarence and Paula. All of these people need them.

‘Lilly,’ the youth nods in greeting as she walks steadily up to the three sentries. She stops and rolls her eyes, blows air out through her cheeks as she makes a senseless note on the clipboard.

‘I’m so tired,’ she grins and shakes her head, ‘can’t wait to just sit down.’

‘Yeah right,’ the youth grins, a pale boy with bags under his eyes and wearing a black t shirt at least four size too big for him and it accentuates his thin frame which in turn makes the shotgun look that much bigger.

‘Right, one last duty and that’s me,’ she sighs again, ‘Maddox wants me to take a box of grenades down to the crew watching the armoury, but,’ she casts a quick look round and steps closer to the three kids, ‘I don’t actually know what a grenade is and I didn’t want to ask and look stupid…you won’t tell Maddox will you?’

‘Nah course not,’ the boy giggles, ‘they gonna use ‘em?’

‘I have no idea,’ Lilly states, ‘and I do not care…I want to take the box over, hand them over, smile sweetly then I am off duty and will sleep forever.’

‘Here’ya,’ a boy steps out holding a green wooden crate by two rope handles at the ends.’

‘Is that it?’ She asks hopefully.

‘Yeah,’ the lad nods.

‘What do they look like? Can I see one?’

‘They’re fuckin’ awesome,’ he puts the crate down and lifts the already unlocked lid to reveal rows of small round metal objects each with the metal hoop as described by Blowers.

‘Oh wow,’ she says, ‘I think I’ve seen them on that game…er…Call of Duty is it?’

‘COD? Yeah,’ the lads stare in wonder at the beautiful girl, ‘you play do ya?’

‘Me?’ Lilly laughs, ‘no but it looks good. Right, I’d better get this over to Maddox.’

‘It’s heavy,’ one of the lads says quickly, ‘want me to carry it?’

‘I’d love that,’ Lilly beams, ‘and thank you for being a gentleman but Maddox said you had to remain here.’

‘Ah yeah, course…’ the lad nods quickly with a blush spreading up his pale cheeks.

‘Well, I’ll see you later,’ she rests the clipboard on the closed lid and grasps the rope handles before hefting the box up.

‘See ya, Lilly.’

So easy. Too easy and that ease cements her belief that these are the wrong people to be in control here. A pretty smile and she walks away with enough bombs to kill everyone in here. No orders, no check on the radio, nothing.

She sticks to the inner wall and walks steadily along with an expression of tiredness forced on her face. Carrying a heavy box and running errands like she’s done all day. Following the curvature of the wall she takes a sharp turn and walks towards the rear of the crews on guard watching the armoury.

A distraction has to be both visual and audible.

One of the youths turns quickly as she approaches, she smiles and nods. He smiles nods back and turns away.

Five metres is the killing zone. Fifteen to cause casualties. She stops five metres away from the back of the crews and places the heavy box on the ground. Twilight now and the clear light of the day is dwindling. She flips the lid and pulls one of the small round objects out and takes a breath.

In her right hand and she curls her fingers tight over the metal bar. Her left forefinger fits into the hoop easily. She twists, pulls it free and pauses as she casts a quick look back to the vehicle ramp and the children hidden from view in the shadows of the wall. Torches are lit, lamps and lanterns. Orange glowing lights that bathe the fort in a beautiful soft glow.

A solitary tear falls to roll down her cheek and the sadness she feels mingles with the hope for the future and the complete belief that these people cannot be in charge for the future is as bleak and dark as the night that comes across them now.

Eleven

‘Holy fuck,’ Cookey says as we gather round to peer down into the black hole.

‘How did you find it?’ I ask.

‘Brilliant engineers back then,’ Roy says, ‘it’s almost seamless and I doubt it’s been opened in years.’

‘Echo?’ Nick asks.

Roy nods, ‘I was tapping and thought it sounded different. It’s darker in here so finding the edge was done by fingertips. It’s a trapdoor though,’ he says as we look down into the black abyss below the levered up hatch.

‘Have we got a torch? I ask around, ‘candle? Anything? A mobile phone?’

‘Nothing,’ Cookey says in a low voice, ‘that fucking prick has taken everything.’

‘Oh,’ I stare down, ‘how deep is it?’

‘Don’t know,’ Roy replies, ‘hang on,’ he rushes off and comes back holding a teaspoon, ‘ready?’

He drops it down and we listen at the brief pause and the clatter when it hits the bottom, ‘not far,’ he says, ‘six…maybe ten feet.’

‘Roy, you had night vision goggles,’ Paula says.

‘Yes, I had night vision goggles along with lots of other things in my van which I abandoned…along with the peaceful life I was living too.’

‘Ah you love it,’ I say while staring down the hole.

‘Idea,’ Roy drops down and shoves his head deep into the hole, ‘the air is fresh.’

‘That’s nice, did they hoover too?’ Cookey asks.

‘It means there is ventilation you twat,’ Nick says, ‘otherwise the air would smell stale.’

‘I knew that,’ Cookey shakes his head and tuts, ‘I didn’t know that,’ he adds with a shrug.

‘Nick, pass me your lighter,’ Roy says with his head down the hole and his hand hovering up into the air.

‘My what?’

‘Your lighter,’ I nod at Roy’s hand.

‘My lighter?’

‘Yes, Nick. Your lighter.’

‘It’s the only one we have,’ he says with a look of panic, ‘what if he drops it.’

‘I won’t drop it,’ Roy’s muffled voice says.

‘Oh fucking hell,’ Nick huffs and reluctantly passes the lighter into Roy’s outstretched fingers, ‘don’t use all the fuel.’

‘I think our safety is more important than you having a cigarette,’ Paula says.

‘Humph,’ Nick says.

‘Tunnel,’ Roy shouts up, ‘well a door that leads off anyway…and there’s a ladder built into the side.’

‘Great, just don’t drop the lighter,’ Blowers looks as nervous as Nick.

Roy shuffles back to sit up, ‘fresh air and what looks to be a room or a tunnel, I’ll go down first. Have we got anything we can use a torch?’

‘We don’t have any torches,’ Paula says, ‘Maddox took them, we just had this conversation.’

‘No I mean like an old fashioned torch,’ Roy says, ‘on fire?’

‘Oh right,’ I look about and head quickly into the main room, ‘we’ve got a table and some chairs we can break up but that’s it, no clothes to…hang on, we’ve got the bedding.’

We all dart about dragging rough woollen blankets and sheets into the room. Clarence grab a wooden chair, turns it upside down and grabs the two front legs before yanking the whole thing apart with barely a grunt.

With a strip of blanket wrapped round the end of the chair leg held by Roy, Nick holds his lighter to the material and we watch as the material smoulders and burns but refuses to ignite.

‘We need an accelerant,’ Roy says with a look at Nick.

‘No.’

‘Nick, we need to douse it in something flammable.’

‘Oh come on,’ Nick whines, ‘really?’

‘What?’ Cookey asks.

‘The lighter,’ Blowers says, ‘we need the fuel from the lighter to douse the blanket so it catches alight.’

‘Oh,’ Cookey says, ‘that’s alright.’

‘No it’s not alright,’ Nick says, ‘then we won’t be able to smoke you dickhead.’

‘Er,’ Cookey says slowly, ‘what about the fucking big match you’re gonna be holding dickhead…the big match you’re setting on fire?’

Nick stares at the chair leg for a second before snorting a dry chuckle, ‘fuck it.’

‘Clarence, can you snap the lighter in half but hold it over the end so the…’

‘Thank you, Roy,’ Clarence says, ‘I get it.’

With the torch on the ground, Clarence drops down and holds one end of the plastic tube in each hand while holding it a fraction above the blanket material. An audible snap and the room fills with the pungent aroma of liquid gas.

‘Light it before it soaks in,’ Roy mutters.

Clarence fumbles with the end of the lighter holding the rough wheel and flint. Three times he thumbs the wheel and we hold our breath until the spark ignites the material and a second later the blanket flames bright.

‘We’ll have to move quick, get some more strips ready,’ Roy heads towards the opening and eases his legs down onto the now visible first rung embedded into the side.

We gather at the top and wait as he reaches the bottom, pauses and heads out of sight into the shadows of a doorway.

‘Room,’ he calls out, ‘really big room…hang on…yes there’s another tunnel leading off…’

‘Right, everyone get weapons and er…shit, I was about to say get dressed…fuck it, just get the weapons.’

I lower myself down the hatch, onto the ladder and scrabble down to the bottom. The ground is hard concrete underfoot and Roy was right, the air doesn’t smell that stale. A bit musty but no hint of damp and there must be fresh air coming from somewhere.

‘Roy?’

‘Through here.’

I head into what must have been the room he said was there but pitch black greets my eyes. I hold my hand out, feeling for a trip hazards as the orange glow of the torch bobs back into sight.

‘Tunnel,’ he says quietly as though speaking loud down here isn’t right, ‘more rooms too…this place is huge.’

‘Does it go anywhere?’

‘No idea, it feels flat for a bit then a slight gradient downhill. That’s when I came back.’

‘What direction is it? I mean in relation to the fort?’

‘Er, so the hatch is there and the main door is…so that means the front of the fort is over there…so yes, yes I think it heads towards the land.’

‘Bollocks.’

‘Pardon? Isn’t that good news?’

‘It is but we told Lilly to wait until two in the morning before making a distraction but if we’re going to go then we need to do it now before the torch dies.’

‘What do you want to do?’ He asks me quietly, ‘I doubt we’ll get the torch ignited again.’

‘Back to the ladder,’ I head back and climb up into the room to find everyone gathered and looking even more stupid holding pistols and assault rifles while in underwear.

‘Tunnel looks like it leads towards the land…but,’ I heave myself free from the top and stand up, ‘if we’re gonna go then we need to do it now before the torch dies out.’

‘What about Lilly?’ Nick asks quickly, his voice as hushed as mine now the darkness of the night is upon us.

‘Roy,’ Clarence leans over hole, ‘will I fit?’

‘Yes, tight but you’ll get through.’

‘I say we go now,’ Clarence says, ‘we get free, get supplies and come back for Lani…’

‘How the hell are we going to get back in for Lani?’ Paula asks in a rushed whisper.

‘We’ll have time to plan and do something,’ I say, ‘but it’s better than waiting here.’

‘What if we get trapped?’ Cookey asks.

‘I don’t think we will,’ Roy calls up, ‘there’s definitely a flow of air coming from somewhere….’

‘Shush,’ Blowers whispers, closest to the door and we all fall silent.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘..nothing, thought I heard some shouting outside.’

‘Decision made, we’re going while we got the chance…everyone ready?’

Twelve

The tear falls to drop through the air as she stands straight and takes a deep breath.

‘Excuse me,’ she speaks clearly into the gloom, ‘I said excuse me…’

‘What’s up?’ Someone asks her, one of the crew chiefs or a youth. A young voice and a few heads turn to look at her.

‘I am holding a grenade. The pin is pulled out. I am holding it above a box of grenades. If you run or shout I will drop the grenade. If you shoot me I will drop the grenade….’

‘Are you fucking nuts?’ A voice asks as a torch beam is switched on. The illuminated beam sweeps over the ground and up her body until picking out the grenade held clearly in her right hand. The torch holds steady for a second before sweeping back to the open crate of grenades at her feet. Murmurs of panic sweep across the guards, shuffling feet and the clunks of guns being knocked into each other.

‘Do not run or move away,’ Lilly forces power into her voice, ‘you have until the count of three and if you do not put the weapons down I will drop this grenade and we will all die.’

‘Everyone put the guns down,’ a voice says.

‘ONE,’ she shouts now, a clear voice that carries easily through the fort.

‘Okay…okay…’ guns start getting lowered to the ground but some of the youths remain unresponsive.

‘TWO…I am prepared to die…are you?’

‘Down…put ‘em down for fuck’s sake,’ the crew chief barks the order, ‘MADDOX…DARIUS….YOU BETTER GET OUT HERE…’

The clatter of weapons sounds clear as Lilly’s eyes adjust to the gloom. The crews stay close, too afraid to run or do anything and the torch remains focussed on the grenade in her hand.

‘What’s up?’ Maddox walks quickly from the offices.

‘Crazy fuckin’ bitch has a grenade,’ the crew chief yells back.

‘Maddox?’

‘Lilly? That you?’

‘I have a grenade. The pin is pulled out and I am holding the metal bar down. If I let go the grenade will arm as it drops into the box of grenades by my feet…’

‘Okay,’ Maddox stops a few feet away, ‘I can see,’ he says softly.

Lilly clears her throat and draws breath, ‘EVERYONE NEEDS TO LISTEN…PEOPLE IN THE FORT NEED TO LISTEN…’

‘Lilly, please stop this,’ Maddox holds a steady hand out, ‘one grenade will not set the other grenades off. The pin has to be pulled…’

‘That is not true,’ she replies, ‘and by all means, take that chance if you so wish…please let Mr Howie know he can come out now.’

‘Lilly, they might be infected…that is not a chance we can take.’

‘I will not live under tyrannical rule…’

‘Grow up,’ Maddox snaps, ‘you’ll kill everyone in here if you drop that grenade…your own brother included.’

‘Please tell Mr Howie they can come out…and if you move Maddox I will drop this grenade and we will all die…then Mr Howie can come…’

‘Lilly…what you do? Put that thing down!’

‘No!’ Maddox shouts, ‘do not put it down.’

‘What?’ Lenski asks, ‘put it down and…’

‘It’s a bomb,’ Maddox says, ‘she lets go and it explodes.’

‘Oh,’ Lenski frowns with a hard glare at Lilly, ‘why you do this?’

‘You know why, Lenski.’

‘We help you. We give you safe place yes? We do this. We give Billy the safe place.’

‘You have boys with guns dressed in black clothes,’ Lilly replies, ‘you have people cowering at the back because they’re too afraid to do or say anything…you have the people that gave us this safe place locked in a room with nothing to eat or drink…’

‘Okay, we can talk about this,’ Maddox says soothingly, ‘let’s just keep our voices down yeah.’

‘No I will not. Please someone inform Mr Howie that they can come out now.’

‘Lilly, this is too dangerous. What if they’re infected?’

‘Then I am also infected,’ she says clearly, ‘Nick has been with them the whole time and I have kissed him, and if I am infected then perhaps it is best to drop this grenade and…’

‘No no,’ Maddox interrupts forcing his tone to remain calm, ‘we can do some tests and…’

‘What tests?’ She asks, ‘what tests can be done?’

‘I don’t know…’

‘No, Maddox. You don’t know. You are four years older than me. Even the doctors don’t know what tests they can do. We have no idea of anything yet you choose to lock away the very people that have given us this freedom. Let Mr Howie know he can come out.’

‘Lilly.’

‘Let Mr Howie know they can come out!’

‘We will, but can I just say…’

‘ONE…’

‘Okay, take it easy…’

‘TWO…I will drop this grenade on three and kill us all.’

‘HOWIE… COME OUT HERE…easy now, Lilly.’

She clutches the grenade and waits, her eyes flicking from Maddox to the youths watching and the armoury door beyond them.

‘MR HOWIE,’ she yells, ‘COME OUT PLEASE…’

‘Darius?’

‘Right here.’

‘Go get Howie.’

Lilly scans the area, tracking Darius as he crosses the open ground to the armoury door which he knocks soundly. Once. Twice. He waits and knocks again. Lilly feels her heart rate going up and her arm trembling from squeezing the grenade so tightly but not daring to loosen her grip even a little.

Darius pushes the door open and calls out, he waits and calls again.

‘No one there,’ he shouts across to Maddox, ‘someone get me a torch.’

One is found and taken over and the youth flicks the beam on and into the armoury where he sweeps it over the central room, the table and the broken chair on the ground. He takes a tentative step inside, ‘Mr Howie…it’s Darius…Lilly is holding a grenade…Mr Howie? Clarence? I’m not armed…’

He creeps forward step by step and points the torch to all corners. Room to room he goes with his own heart hammering in his chest as the first beads of sweat roll down his forehead.

On the last room he stops and spins round, mouth hanging open and a creeping sensation crawling up his spine. He checks again, more thoroughly this time. Checking, looking, staring.

Finally he exits and stops dead a few feet from the door, ‘they’ve gone,’ he says simply.

Lilly twitches at the news. She checked the door every few seconds and there was no way they could have got out in that time.

Maddox stays quiet and watchful, his mind spinning with the variables at play. That Lilly was creating a distraction but like her he kept a watch on the door of the armoury and knows they couldn’t have got out.

‘Check again, take more in with you,’ Maddox orders to buy time, ‘where are they, Lilly?’

She doesn't reply but grips the grenade and thinks furiously, ‘get Lani out here please.’

‘She is sedated,’ Maddox says quietly.

‘Then bring her out sedated.’

‘Lilly, where did Mr Howie go?’

‘I am still holding this grenade and I will still drop it.’

‘They’ve gone,’ Maddox shrugs, ‘what now? Kill everyone for the hell of it?’

‘They have not gone,’ Lilly says, ‘this is a trick.’

‘Darius? Are they in there?’

‘Nothing, Mads,’ Darius walks free from the armoury, ‘seriously, spooky as fuck in there, I swear down…’

‘Where, Lilly?’

‘You tell me, Maddox.’

‘Where, Lilly?’

‘Bring Lani out here please.’

‘No.’

‘Bring Lani out here or I will drop this grenade.’

‘Do it,’ Maddox says in a dangerously low tone, ‘drop the grenade,’ his intelligent mind swarms with the confidence that the power play is back with him. Too many questions but you deal with what you got right in front of you and right now he stares across at a frightened fifteen year old girl with holding a grenade in a trembling arm.

She listens intently. Eyes closed. Breathing normally. The muscles of her stomach were sore from the tazer barbs but the pain, like the pain elsewhere in her body, faded quickly. Did they sedate her? Probably. She woke up so that must mean they injected her with something. Whatever it was wore off quickly and she had the sense to remain conscious but inert. Listening to the sounds around her and daring only to peek through her eyelids when the voices of the doctors had receded.

Something going on outside. Raised voices, a girl shouting. Lilly? It must be something to do with Howie.

She wants to look but fights the urge and remains still, knowing she’ll only have one chance if she makes a move.

‘What’s going on?’ A male voice demands, deep and refined, the voice of Heathcliff Stone.

‘Lilly’s got a grenade,’ a young voice pants from the exertion of running, ‘she’s pulled the pin and saying she wants Howie to be let out but he’s gone and now she’s saying she wants Lani and…’

‘Slow down,’ Heathcliff snaps impatiently, ‘Howie has gone? Gone where?’

‘Dunno, Darius was checking his rooms and he’s gone, you get me?’

‘Just him or everyone?’

‘Like everyone, all of ‘em…gone innit…Maddox is telling Lilly to drop the grenade.’

‘Can’t they just put the pin back in?’

‘No, like…he’s telling her to drop it and let it explode, calling her out, you get me?’

‘Stop saying that. Good God, he’ll blow us all to smithereens.’

‘She’s got the whole box of grenades.’

‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ Heathcliff roars, ‘what a complete shower of shit. I knew we should never have listened to that…’

Lani dares a peek, a fluttering of eyelids and enough of a glance to see Heathcliff and Lisa Franklin stood talking to a young boy.

‘Maddox told her Lani is dosed up and…like she can’t come out.’

Lani knows they’ll be turning to look and she breathes easily, normally, not twitching, not moving. The air comes in and the air goes out.

‘She’ll be out for hours on that bloody dose,’ Heathcliff groans, ‘and I’m not going out there if some little shit is running about with grenades.’

She darts another look and spots them once again focussed on the boy and in that split second the decision is made.

She groans and fidgets then lies still but makes her breathing louder than it was. She groans again and twitches her legs, then her arms.

‘What the…’

‘Is she fitting?’ Lisa crosses the floor quickly, her voice getting closer, ‘Lani? Lani can you hear me?’

Fingers press into Lani’s wrist with well-practised movements and Lani senses from the pressure applied that its Lisa Franklin checking her pulse.

A fluid motion and an explosion of energy. Eyes snap open as she twists her arm and snaps a rigid grip on Lisa’s wrist, yanking her forward as she drives the heel of her palm hard into the centre of her face. The nose breaks, blood spurts thick and fast as the doctor goes to yell but Lani is already moving up and out of the bed. A hard fist smashes into the back of the doctor’s skull and she twists round to see Heathcliff standing shocked to the core with his mouth hanging open.

The undead kill if you don’t keep motion. They lunge and snap, they rake and bite. They press ever forwards with a desire to tear you apart and so Lani doesn't stay still. As Lisa bends double on the still warm bed, so Lani spins and closes the gap between her and the big bearded doctor. Judged to perfected and her knee lifts to drive deep into the older man’s groin. An explosion of air from his lungs as the pain hits and she batters his face with a barrage of blows as he drops down. As he goes down she grabs the thick hair on his scalp and pulls him at the same time as ramming the hard point of her knee into his temple.

Two seconds, maybe three and both doctors are down. She spins and spots the youth turning to run and grabs the metal bed pan from the side table next to her. It gets launched hard, spinning glinting through the air and into the back of his head with a dull thunk.

He goes down sprawled on the ground and squeals like the child he is, high pitched and frightened. She charges down the aisle, slamming the heel of her foot into the side of his head. He goes quiet and she moves fast towards the entrance. No remorse, no time to stop and worry.

Out the door and she meets the two guards ploughing towards her in response to the clatter of the bed pan and the scream of the boy. Two youths, bigger than the one she just knocked out, hard faced and grim with determination, both of them carrying assault rifles but they move awkwardly and unused to the weight and bulk of the weapons.

She seizes the advantage and lunges into the gap between them. They yell and turn but slam into each other. She grabs one barrel and slams a fist into the nose of the other boy. He reels back with a nose as cleanly broken as Lisa Franklins. Her arm jerks back and the elbow drives hard into the eye socket of the one she holds in place by the barrel of the weapon. She hits him once, twice and feels the bone of his eye socket fracture from her hard elbow.

She goes low and grabs his right ankle, wrenching him up as she grabs a handful of his privates to give them a vicious twist. He crumples on the spot and she catches the assault rifles before it hits the ground.

She spins it right way up, pausing only to check the magazine, slam it back home and rack the bolt back as the first youth writhes on the ground with his hands clutching at his face.

The single shot rings clear through the fort and the boy writhes no more as his brain is scattered over the hard ground of the fort. On autopilot and she brings the assault rifle up and into her shoulder, aimed, locked, loaded and ready.

She strides towards the middle and the silhouetted figure of Lilly standing with her arm held out and Maddox stood but feet from her.

Motion to the right, she twitches, aim and locks and fires. A body goes down. She senses movement ahead and spots someone bending over. Not knowing if the person is ducking or going for a weapon she fires the single shot and watches as the body is blown back.

‘STAND DOWN,’ Lani bellows, ‘STAND DOWN NOW…’

‘Lani!’

‘Lilly, where is Howie?’

‘Gone…Darius said the rooms are empty.’

‘Maddox, you fucking move and I will put a bullet through you.’

‘I’m not moving.’

‘You tazered me you fucking piece of shit. You tazered me!’

‘Lani…’

She twitches, fires and another body goes down, movement on the top of the wall and she fires again. The body slumps and falls down with a blood curdling scream before landing with a sickening splat that silences the cry.

‘DO NOT MOVE,’ She watches Maddox twitch, ‘you fucking tazered me!’

‘You are killing children,’ Maddox says quickly.

‘I WILL KILL EVERYONE IN HERE,’ Lani screams, ‘AND DRINK THEIR FUCKING BLOOD,’ she adopts the methods learnt from Dave with an overwhelming assault of the senses and a display of utter intent to kill, ‘…where is it?’

‘What?’

‘The tazer…where is it?’

‘On me.’

‘Take it out with your left hand and put it on the ground, then your pistol and if ANYONE MOVES I WILL SHOOT MADDOX…Lilly, are you holding a grenade?’

‘Yes.’

‘If I shoot Maddox drop the grenade in the box and blow them all to hell.’

‘I will.’

‘Tazer…pistol…NOW!’

Using his left hand Maddox reaches round and draws first the yellow tazer from his belt and drops it quietly to the ground. The pistol follows.

‘Step back…’

‘Lani just…’

She fires into the crowd behind him, blowing someone off their feet and the screams rip through the fort.

‘JESUS! Stop,’ Maddox cries out.

‘Stop? You want me to fucking stop? We risked our lives again and again for you and you…you tazered me…Lilly, get that tazer. Move back…further…’ she motions with the assault rifle, forcing Maddox to take back steps as Lilly quickly scoops the tazer up.

‘Give it to me,’ she holds the rifle steady in her right hand and reaches for the tazer with her left, ‘this is going to hurt you prick,’ she aims and fires the barbs dead centre into his chest. One second he stands watching, the next he’s on the ground convulsing as thousands of volts pulse through his body.

‘Did it hurt?’ She waits for him to come round and groan before pressing the trigger again and the tickticktick of the tazer clicks audibly as it powers the juice through the wires and into the barbs embedded in his chest, ‘how about now? Does it hurt you prick?’

She presses it again and again, waiting for seconds each time before once again squeezing her finger.

The smell of shit hits her as the muscle contractions void Maddox’s bowels. Unconscious he lies on the ground in his own shit and piss.

‘Bitch,’ she spits and discards the tazer to the side, ‘Lilly, drag that box of grenades into the armoury…you…’ she motions to an older youth stood shaking nearby, ‘get those weapons off the ground and into the armoury now…’

She backs through the group, sweeping the assault rifle left to right as everyone stays rock still. A child cries at the rear of the fort but not another sound other than the boy running back and forth as he carries the weapons into the armoury.

‘Kneel down, hands on your heads…do it slowly,’ Lani barks the orders and watches the crews drop one by one.

‘I want every single one of the crews in here doing the same…if they are not here in ten seconds I will start executing people…’

‘But…’ someone speaks and is shot through the chest without hesitation, regardless of gender or age.

‘ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX…’ she counts fast and clear and listens as people run towards the centre.

‘WEAPONS DOWN. ON YOUR KNEES. HANDS ON YOUR HEADS.’

They come. Scared. Terrified and having witnessed Maddox tazered again and again. Brave boys and girls who rely on a feral pack instinct surge to drop in front of Lani and the power play shifts once more to a young Thai woman holding an assault rifle after showing what true battle experience is.

They come running. They come whimpering in fear and the illuminated ground in front of her fills with the young black clad bodies who only moments before felt invincible in the glory of their weapons.

Dressed in bra and knickers she holds the assault rifle rock steady and with deadly purpose in her mind. She just killed people. Not undead. Not those that were turned but people, young people, children. But the warning was given clear and the choices they made were their own. These days are not the days of before.

‘Darius?’ She looks round, ‘where is Darius?’

Young heads turn to look, low mutterings break out between the youths.

‘DARIUS,’ Lani shouts, ‘I want you hear now…Lenski too…’

Still no response.

‘Lilly, throw that grenade into the middle…’

‘WAIT!’ Darius’s voice sounds out in the night, ‘don’t do that…don’t…’

‘Get on your fucking knees now,’ Lani snarls the words, ‘who the fuck do you think you are? You think you’re above this lot? You think you’re in charge here? Get down now…’

‘I’m down…’ Darius drops with his hands clamped to the top of his head.

‘Lenski…’

‘Here, I here.’

‘You let this happen,’ Lani shouts across the distance to the Polish woman standing still in the shadows.

‘Yes, you are not trusted. You kill children. You shoot them…’

‘Get over here and get down.’

‘You shoot me?’

‘Without hesitation.’

The Polish woman walks towards the centre and slowly drops down onto her knees as she lifts her hands onto her head. Begrudging and disdainful but the act is done.

‘Lilly, are any of the people back there police or military?’

‘I don’t know…er…we’ve got lists but…’

‘I NEED EX-SERVICES DOWN HERE,’ Lani shouts, ‘POLICE OR SERVICES…’

‘You think they…’

‘You speak to me again Darius and I’ll put a bullet through your head…MY NAME IS LANI, I’M WITH MR HOWIE…I NEED ASSISTANCE FROM ANYONE WITH SERVICE EXPERIENCE…’

‘They ain’t gonna help you, Lani…’

Screams erupt from the single retort booming into the quiet of the fort as Darius is killed instantly from the single shot fired into his head from short range. The back of skull explodes out to shower those behind in grey matter.

The screams ease into soft whimpers at the terrible sight of the woman holding the assault rifle bathed in the flickering orange light of torches.

‘This was a mistake bringing you lot in here,’ she speaks slowly through gritted teeth, ‘a mistake to think we could trust you…children who steal and hurt others….drug dealers and feral little shits…I NEED ANYONE WITH SERVICE EXPERIENCE DOWN HERE!’ She roars into the stillness of the night and waits for a response that doesn't come.

Thirteen

‘That was interesting,’ Clarence sags against the wall after putting Meredith down onto her feet. The sight of the big man holding the big dog while trying to lower himself down a ladder was a unique experience and one I shall never forget. She took it calmly at first, then decided she didn’t like being held and started squirming. The squirms turned into a scrabble as she bucked and writhed until displacing his hand on the rung and letting them both fall to a heap at the bottom where she bounded free and happy with a new place to sniff, ‘she isn’t going back up, that’s for sure.’

‘Roy, you take point with the torch, Clarence at the back?’

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Of course you have a choice, do you not want to take the back?’

‘It’s not that I don’t want to take the back…but…’

‘But what?’

‘Nothing, the back is fine.’

‘Eh? What’s wrong with the back? Dave can you take the back?’

‘I’m better at the front, Mr Howie.’

‘I’ll take the back,’ Clarence says in a strange tone of voice.

‘Dave, you take the back and let Clarence up front.’

‘I always go up front,’ Dave says.

‘I don’t want the front,’ Clarence mutters.

‘What? Why not?’

‘Nothing, just…’ he peers round into the gloom and shudders.

‘Holy shit,’ Cookey mutters, ‘Clarence doesn't like the dark.’

‘Not the dark you little shit,’ Clarence growls, ‘big people and confined spaces do not mix well.’

‘Middle then, Blowers you’re at the back and…’

‘Why me?’

‘Fuck’s sake…don’t you like confined spaces either?’

‘Er…’

‘Right, who is not bothered by the dark or confined spaces?’

‘I don’t mind either, Mr Howie.’

‘Thanks, Dave. You take the back then.’

‘I always take the front.’

‘Fuck me! Paula?’

‘Not a chance.’

‘Cookey?’

‘I’m not bothered,’ he laughs with delight, ‘I’ll be the hero at the back who gets eaten by the monsters.’

‘Shut up,’ Paula says in a strained voice.

‘Oh my good God,’ I sigh, ‘you are shitting me…how many have we killed now?’

‘Yeah but it’s dark and scary as fuck down here,’ Blowers says.

‘We are the scariest thing down here,’ I say, ‘we are…we have a big dog and guns…and a Dave.’

‘I always take the front.’

‘Yes, Dave. You are at the front. I’m just saying we have a Dave.’

‘Okay.’

‘And a Clarence,’ Clarence mutters.

‘And we have a Clarence,’ I add with a groan, ‘and a Nick and a Blowers and fucking hell! Can we go now?’

‘So,’ Roy asks slowly, ‘I’m at the front still?’

‘Oh for the love of Pete…yes…yes you take the front and Cookey will take the rear…’

‘I always go…’

‘Dave! Roy is taking point as he has the torch.’

‘I can take the torch.’

‘I made the torch,’ Roy says dully, ‘it’s my torch.’

‘Our torch,’ Nick says, ‘I made it too.’

‘I broke the lighter.’

‘Paula…do something before I shoot everyone.’

‘Right,’ she says firmly, ‘Roy takes the front with Dave behind him…everyone else behind them with Clarence at the…sorry…Cookey at the rear…let’s go…NO! No arguing we are moving off right now.’

‘Cheers,’ I nod into the gloom.

‘Welcome,’ she smiles, ‘how the hell have you managed this lot so far?’

‘No idea…you wouldn’t believe how hard it is.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘We’re right here,’ Clarence points out.

‘Paula is now the resource manager for our team,’ I announce.

‘Ah thanks,’ she says sarcastically, ‘do I get a pay rise?’

‘Yep and a company car.’

‘I want to be a manager,’ Cookey says from the back, ‘I’d be a good manager.’

We head slowly off, following the flickering light of the flaming torch that spews foul smelling fumes in our faces. It lights the way for Roy but’s that it. We go through the cavernous room with no idea of size or dimensions and then into the tunnel.

Cooler down here and Roy was right, the air is relatively fresh which indicates there must be an air flow from somewhere.

‘I hope they don’t block that hatch,’ Cookey says after a few moments of silence.

‘Why did you say that?’ Clarence asks, ‘why would they?’

‘So we don’t get back up and kill everyone,’ he replies, ‘I’d block it.’

‘Cookey, maybe not the right time to talk about getting trapped, mate.’

‘Sorry, Mr Howie. I was just saying that I would block it.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Cookey.’

‘Get bent, Blowers.’

‘They probably won’t find it,’ I say to stop the bad thoughts encroaching into our minds.

‘I found it,’ Roy says from the front, ‘and they’ll know there’s a way out so they’ll look for it.’

‘Can we talk about something else?’ Paula asks.

A few more minutes of unhealthy silence. The dark doesn't bother me and confined spaces have never really worried me either but they’ve planted a seed and even my nerves start to fray. Like everyone else, I keep my eyes fixed on the bobbing orange glow ahead.

The tunnel is smooth brick with a curved roof and a concrete floor. No hand rails or marking but solid smooth walls. Not a drip or broken piece of mortar anywhere and the engineering back then was outstanding in achievement.

‘Nick, why is the roof curved?’ I ask simply to break the silence.

‘Stronger,’ he replies quietly, ‘like bridges…the structure supports the mass.’

‘These don’t have those keystone things though.’

‘Downward gradient,’ Roy announces, ‘watch your footing.’

I feel it within a few strides, a gentle shift of gradient under my feet. Gradual but it goes on with amazing precision as we head further beneath the surface of the land.

‘Er, Nick?’ Blowers says almost whispering, ‘you know that storm.’

‘Yeah.’

‘And that it took away the land…so the sea is there now…’

‘Yeah and no, don’t worry…’

‘You sure?’

‘I think so, Roy?’ Nick calls ahead.

‘We’re deep underground now,’ Roy calls back, ‘the storm only shifted the top few feet of the land mass on the spit of land. We’d have seen signs by now if this tunnel was breached…water, damp…it doesn't even smell damp so we can assume the structure is sound.’

‘Cool,’ Blowers says.

‘Imagine if it caved in now,’ Cookey can’t help himself the daft idiot and gets a solid chorus of abuse thrown back at him.

‘What?’ Cookey laughs, ‘I was only saying.’

‘Where will it come out?’ Blowers asks again showing his nerves with a steady flow of questions from the normally quiet lad.

‘I was thinking about that,’ Roy answers, ‘probably not the housing estate as that was there after the fort and it’s also the most likely place an opposing army would set camp if they were to lay siege to the fort.’

‘Further back then?’ I ask.

‘Most likely, there’s an industrial complex there now. Is that right?’

‘In there?’ I ask.

‘More than likely, it will be an old building or…something that was present or built at the same time as the fort. Did you see anything like that?’

‘Never really looked,’ I reply.

‘After we’ve got through this,’ he says without preamble, ‘I want to go my own way.’

‘Roy!’ Paula blurts, ‘not now.’

‘What? We talked about it last night.’

‘This morning, we talked about it this morning and I don’t think now is the time to bring it up.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’re trapped in an old tunnel!’

‘Hang on,’ I say, ‘you want to go off?’

‘We’re not trapped,’ Roy says, ‘and yes, I’m not good round people and…’

‘No shit,’ Cookey mutters from the back.

‘Where?’

‘Don’t know, Mr Howie…but all this stuff just causes me more anxiety and…’

‘Is Paula going with you?’ Cookey asks.

‘You should ask me, not Roy.’

‘Sorry, you going with him, Paula?’

‘We sort of discussed it earlier but I didn’t realise we’d actually made a decision.’

‘Oh. I thought we had.’

‘No. We did not.’

‘Right after we had sex…we agreed then…’

‘Roy!’

Splutters of laughter from Cookey and even a smirk from Blowers shaking his head.

‘You had sex?’ Clarence asks wistfully, ‘where the hell did you get the energy from?’

‘It releases all sorts of calming hormones,’ Roy replies.

‘Can we not talk about this now please?’

‘Moving on,’ I say quickly, ‘so you’re getting anxiety from all this?’

‘Yes.’

‘What does that mean? What sort of anxiety?’

‘I get anxious.’

‘What from the constant threat of death? The fact we’ve probably got the entire population of zombies coming after us or just general anxiety?’

‘I get health anxiety.’

‘What’s that then?’

‘It’s when I keep thinking I am dying, like I imagine I have tumours and diseases.’

‘Right…and…okay but we’ve got doctors now and…’

‘Oh I don’t get the anxiety now,’ he says brightly, ‘it stopped because of everything we’re doing.’

‘Okay…so…isn’t that a good thing?’

‘No. If I stop worrying about it that’s when it will get me.’

‘What will?’

‘The diseases and tumours.’

‘Do you have diseases and tumours?’

‘I hope not.’

‘So…fuck me I’m confused…so you worry about it when you’re not doing anything but because we’ve been doing stuff you don’t worry and that worries you because you’re not worrying about it? Is that it?’

‘That’s it.’

‘That makes no sense, Roy.’

‘It doesn't have to make sense.’

‘But wouldn’t you rather be busy and doing stuff so you don’t have to worry about it?’

‘That’s when it gets you.’

‘Roy, er…I’m not a doctor or anything but…I don’t think things like that get you when you’re busy.’

‘Magical thinking,’ Roy says.

‘What is?’

‘My thought processes are called magical thinking. Like I protect myself by worrying about it…but if I stop worrying about it then I know…like I know the diseases will get me.’

‘Like a shield?’ I scratch the side of my head as everyone else walks quietly, listening to the conversation.

‘Exactly like a shield.’

‘Fuck,’ I say quietly, ‘but…but then you’ll be just worrying all the time and doesn't worry and stress make shit like that worse anyway?’

‘That’s what I said,’ Paula says.

‘Plus we kind of rely on you now, mate. You’re part of the team.’

‘I only came here with Paula to find a doctor.’

‘We’ve got doctors. We’ve got four of them.’

‘Doctors are no good for me.’

‘Eh?’

‘If I’m near doctors it makes me worse…I want to keep asking them about things and they get fed up then I get worried and start imagining things are worse.’

‘Well,’ I say with a snort through my nose, ‘Lani has probably killed them all by now anyway.’

‘We need more rags,’ he says,’ these are starting to burn out.’

Silence. Worrying silence that grows heavier as the flames grow smaller.

‘Er…who has the rags?’ I ask, ‘Nick?’

‘Nope, I thought Roy had them.’

‘I thought you had them,’ Roy says.

‘I don’t have them,’ Nick says quickly.

‘Does anyone have them?’ Paula asks.

‘We need something,’ Roy says. The light dims quickly as the flames devour through the material and start dwindling.

‘Someone needs to surrender their pants,’ Roy says.

‘Blowers will,’ Cookey says from the back, ‘he likes being naked.’

‘Not a chance with Cookey down here,’ Blowers says.

‘Someone then,’ Roy says, ‘or we’re walking in the dark.’

‘Roy, you do it,’ Cookey says, ‘Paula has seen your willy anyway.’

‘Alex!’

‘What? It’s true,’ he says to Paula, ‘Roy said you had a shag…’

‘We did not shag. We had sex.’

‘I’d rather not,’ Roy says in a rare polite tone.

‘Someone has to,’ I say, ‘and Cookey’s right, Paula has seen your er…um…’

‘Penis,’ Paula sighs, ‘it is a penis.’

‘Ha! Paula said penis,’ Cookey laughs.

‘Can’t we tear a strip from Paula’s t shirt?’ Nick asks.

‘Good idea,’ I say, ‘Paula?’

‘What? Why me?’

‘You’re the only one wearing a top.’

‘That’s because I have boobs and we’ve already seen the reaction these boys get from the mere presence of a woman.’

‘Eh?’ I ask.

‘Nick, earlier.’

‘What? Oh yeah…he had an erection.’

‘Boss,’ Nick groans, ‘that was Lilly anyway…’

‘So Paula wouldn’t give you an erection?’

‘Alex!’

‘Alex!’

‘Cookey!’

‘Sorry, Dave. Sorry, Paula. Sorry, Mr Howie.’

‘We don’t the need the entire top, just a few inches from the bottom,’ I say, ‘can you tear a bit off.’

‘Bloody hell,’ she says with a huff and starts feeling for the seam of her top, ‘I’m not wearing a bra.’

‘Interesting fact,’ I reply carefully.

‘I can’t…I’m not strong enough to rip it…Clarence would you mind?’

‘Here,’ he bends forward and a second later the sound of tearing is clear in the tunnel.

‘Not up,’ she says quickly, ‘don’t tear it upwards…it needs to be torn along…’

‘Okay…bugger…it won’t tear straight…’

‘It’s not paper…’

‘Oh Christ, sorry, Paula.’

‘What? Cookey asks from the back.

‘It’s okay,’ she sighs, ‘you can’t see the nipple.’

‘…’

‘Yes, I said nipple…’ Paula groans, ‘and no you can’t see the nipple…’

‘Eyes front,’ Clarence says, ‘and if I see any of you trying to peek…’

‘Here,’ she pulls the last bit free and passes it forward.

‘Quickly,’ Roy says as the tunnel plunges into darkness as the last flame dies out.

A frantic bustle takes place as the thin rag is passed hand to hand, fumbling in the dark as we all watch the soft glowing embers on the head of the torch. Roy wraps the rag on and starts blowing the embers gently which grow brighter but don’t produce a flame.

We all wait, staring intently and listening as he exhales to make them glow but they start dimming faster and faster. He blows harder, they rally and sparkly but then extinguish and we’re in the absolute pitch dark with not a flicker or gimmer of light from anywhere.

‘At least we can’t see Paula’s nipple now,’ Cookey breaks the silence.

‘Should I keep going?’ Roy’s voice comes from the front.

‘No, mate. I thought we’d stay here for a bit.’

‘Er…was that sarcasm?’

‘Yes, Roy. It was sarcasm. Keep going.’

We head off but slower, much slower. All of walking with bare feet shuffling along the ground and arms outstretched to the sides to feel the tunnel walls. Assault rifles strapped to our backs and pistols held in hands. The breathing noises become louder as the fear factor starts working on our minds.

I’ve never known such blackness before. A complete absence of light, like a void. So dark I can’t tell if my eyes are open or closed.

‘Water,’ Roy says from ahead, ‘on the ground…don’t be alarmed.’

‘Fucking alarmed,’ Blowers mutters.

My spine ripples with fear as my feet slide into the cold unseen puddle and my right hand traces over a damp patch on the wall.

‘We’re under the sea then,’ Nick says.

‘Another one,’ Roy calls back.

This one is bigger and takes two steps to get through and my hand comes away wet from the feel of the trickle on the wall.

The ground has levelled out now and just keeps going straight. Without light there is no sense of time. I try counting in my head but it only serves to increase the knot of tension in my gut. None of us speak as we strain to listen and stare into the pure blackness around us.

It feels like the tunnel is getting smaller, that we’re walking into an ever decreasing tomb. The sensation of being trapped becomes palpable and threatens to take over. My own breathing becomes faster and I can tell the others are the same.

A noise ahead. A steady noise. Dripping. Water or fluid dripping to land in a pool. Still none of us speak until Roy shudders audibly from the drip on his head. Dave remains completely quiet then I feel it.

An icy sensation as the water hits the back of my neck and my feet slide into the much deeper puddle that is deeper than the size of my toes.

‘Salt water,’ Nick says, ‘just tasted it.’

‘So that means sea water,’ Blowers says in a hoarse whisper.

‘Yeah,’ Nick says in a heavy breath.

‘Stop,’ Roy comes to a sudden stop which brings us all up sharp, ‘on the right…the bricks are fractured…water is coming through…do not touch them.’

‘Oh fuck,’ Clarence says with a whimper.

‘Just walk through,’ Nick says, ‘it hasn’t breached yet so it’ll hold.’

We move on and the puddle this time is long until we’re all walking through inches of standing water that sloshes noisily. I want to touch the wall, to feel or know how bad the bricks are but the image in my head of them falling apart at the gentlest touch has my arms held firmly at my sides.

‘Brick in the puddle…watch your toes,’ Roy announces.

‘Fucking brick…’ Clarence’s voice is far higher in pitch as his breathing gets faster, ‘where from?’

‘Does it matter?’ Nick asks, ‘it’ll hold…just keep going.’

Still in the puddle but it’s deeper now, deep enough to wade through. Up to my ankles and getting higher as we go forward. Icy cold and it sends shivers through my body. Clarence gasps with increasing concern.

‘You okay?’ Paula asks him gently.

He swallows but doesn't answer.

‘Put your hand on my shoulder,’ she says, ‘I’m right here…that’s it, just keep going forward.’

‘It’s getting deeper,’ he says.

It is. The water is halfway up my shins now and I gently stretch my hand up until my fingers brush against the roof and the water runs down my hand.

‘Okay,’ Roy says, ‘we’re getting deeper now and I can feel bricks in the water…’

‘Oh Christ…oh Christ…’

‘Easy now,’ Paula says to the big man as he starts panicking.

‘Fresh air,’ Nick says, ‘there has to be an airflow in here…which means a way out.’

‘We should go back,’ Clarence says, ‘just go back.’

‘We can’t mate, you know what will happen.’

‘I’ll go back…you lot keep going.’

‘No!’ We all stop as Paula fumbles in the dark to grab him.

‘Cookey, move,’ Clarence orders.

‘Um…no?’ Cookey stands his ground, blocking Clarence from moving past.

‘Clarence, keep going.’

‘I can’t boss, the fucking thing will collapse.’

‘It won’t,’ Nick says calmly, ‘It’s just a leak.’

‘You’re alright,’ Paula says gently, ‘you are alright…come on…we’ve got to keep moving.’

The water gets to my knees, then my thighs and starts lapping at my groin which makes my teeth chatter and the icy feeling ten times worse. The sounds from the others all signal when the water hits their bits too from the gasps and foul utterances that go down the line.

The panic in me is building. Wading through freezing salt water in the complete blackness of a tunnel that hasn’t been checked or used for over a hundred years. I swallow and focus on what we need to do. Knowing that by now we must be near to the land.

Up to my stomach and still rising. Water trickles from many points, like a tap left on that is steadily filling the tunnel. We plough on and keep moving forward as every instinct in our bodies tell us to turn back. But we can’t. To go back is simply not an option.

‘Rifles up,’ Dave orders and I lift mine up to hold clumsily above the water while trying to grip my pistol at the same time.

Sternum now and it gets deeper still. A steady flow sounds from nearby then a dull crack and a plop as a brick falls from the wall or ceiling to splash into the water.

Clarence is near on hyper-ventilating and he’s not the only one. Blowers, Paula and even Dave in front of me then I remember how much Dave hates the water and realise the utter terror he must be going through too.

Nothing to say and I urge myself to speak, to make noise and somehow distract our minds but the very act of speaking seems too dangerous as though our voices alone could rupture the walls of the giant coffin around us.

The thought of drowning here in the pure darkness and no one ever knowing we are here is more terrifying than anything I have ever done. For it all to just end now and we die, alone and scrabbling in abject fear.

Another brick gives, then another. Gasps of fear and we wade through the deepening water. Roy keeps us at a steady pace, neither rushing ahead and causing waves or going so slow we feel even more trapped.

My chest now and moving forward is getting harder. The waves created by Roy and Dave ahead ripple out to the walls and back at me. The others behind feel the same and we hear crack after crack as the bricks fall randomly into the freezing sea water.

My rifle is held above my head but to one side because of the curvature of the roof and my sides start to cramp. The weapon grows heavier until my arms are aching and shake. I want to lower them, if only for a second to relieve the burning pain building in my shoulders.

An inch or so below my neck and I’m blinking the tears of pain and fear away. Clarence sobs behind me. His deep voice broken by terrified yelps as though made by a child.

‘We will not die here,’ I say without realising the words are coming from my mouth, ‘we will not die here.’

‘What the…’

‘What?’ We all snap the words from the exclamation from Roy at the front.

‘Meredith,’ he gasps, ‘she’s swimming back.’

‘Shit, I forgot about the dog. Is she okay?’

‘She must be tired,’ Nick says, ‘she would have been swimming for ages now.’

I track her panting as it gets closer and feel her body swim past me.

‘Clarence, see if she needs help,’ I call back softly.

‘We’re all holding weapons,’ Nick says.

‘Clarence can hold his one handed all day long,’ I whisper back, ‘Clarence…make sure Meredith is okay.’

‘Got her,’ he pants, ‘she’s under my arm.’

‘Is she letting you carry her?’

‘Sort of…’ he says but the panic is voice is less than it was a few seconds ago.

‘I bet she was aiming for you,’ I say, ‘like she knows who the strongest is to carry her.’

‘Maybe.’

‘We’re not going to die here…’

‘Mr Howie…’

‘Dave? You alright?’

‘I can’t swim…I’m on the tips of my toes.’

‘Ditch the rifle and pistol and come back to me.’

‘We should not discard our weapons.’

‘Okay, keep hold of them then but come back…hang on, let me turn round and get on my back.’

‘Mr Howie,’ Nick says, ‘I’m taller than you, I can take Dave.’

‘He’s here,’ I feel as Dave pushes up and onto my back and holds his assault rifle and pistol one handed with the other one wrapped round my shoulders.

‘We get into some fucked up shit,’ Cookey laughs suddenly, ‘I mean…fucking hell!’

Ripples of nervous laughter along the line.

‘Clarence is carrying a dog, Mr Howie is carrying a Dave…we’re all carrying guns and Paula has a nipple poking out meanwhile Roy wants to be somewhere he can worry so he doesn't have to worry about not worrying.’

Giggles that threaten to spill over into hysteria but it helps the nerves frayed almost to breaking point.

‘I mean…shit,’ Cookey yells first as the wave lifts him from his feet. It sweeps along from behind and the swell takes us all up and under water for a second before easing us back down.

Panicked gasps cry out, spluttering and coughs as we gag on the salt water in our mouths.

‘What the fuck?’ I heave the words out between breaths.

‘Tunnel’s collapsed behind us,’ Nick says, ‘Roy…we’ve got to move…’

‘Brace!’ Roy’s voice is cut off by the wave coming back towards us and again we’re lifted up and submerged as the wave sweeps back the other way.

The weapons are ditched and it becomes a desperate fight to stay alive. Water stings my redundant eyes and the sounds around me make the whole thing much worse. Crying and sobs, pants of fear and gasps as the waves lift us to scrape our head on the roof then ease away. They come from behind then a few seconds later from the front.

‘It’s good,’ Nick splutters, ‘waves coming back…means…’ he splutters and gags for a second before vomiting into the sea, ‘means we’re near the end…go…’

‘It’s getting deeper,’ Cookey says in a voice I don’t recognise for the level of panic in his tone.

Up now and off my feet, arms spread out to feel the crumbling walls and I drop down to bounce forward and surge up to take breath. Dave is heavy, almost too heavy but I can tell from the strength with which he clamps on just how scared he is.

Gagging and puking, gasps of air and the finality hits me. We’ve got inches of space left above our heads now and no hope to sustain this any longer.

‘Keep going,’ Nick sputters, ‘got to be close.’

‘Paula!’ Clarence heaves the gagging woman up one handed while holding the dog afloat, ‘kick,’ he says, ‘kick your legs and move…’ the strain in his voice and the strength of the man being able to hold Meredith and Paula is staggering.

‘Not going to die…not going to die…’ My head impacts on the roof as I surge up and off my feet, stars flash in my eyes which seem so bright from the illusion created by my mind.

The strength in me saps, draining with every second and I take what breaths I can when the waves go down but the constant motion is sickening and my senses start shutting down.

‘Wall!’ the words from someone ahead sound out. Only Roy ahead of me. A wall. A hand thrashes in front of me and suddenly Dave is gone, his weight removed.

‘Dave…Dave’s gone…’ I thrash about trying to feel for his body as I sink back under the waves.

‘Got him,’ Roy gags and spits, ‘here…HERE…’ a hand finds my arm and drags me forward until I feel a solid wall. Somehow in my panicked state I find a metal rung embedded in the wall and cling on.

‘Take Paula,’ Clarence gurgles and I reach out to grab the woman and pull her in towards the ladder.

‘Up,’ single words are all any of us can manage. The space above me is free and I climb on shaking hands and legs, shivering from head to toe as the puke falls from my mouth.

‘Stuck,’ Roy heaves against the hatch that must be above his head, ‘jammed…’ grunts of exertion and bangs as he slams himself against it.

‘Me,’ Clarence pushes forward with his big frame and finds a rung.

‘Let me down,’ Roy says.’

‘Together,’ Clarence squeezes up alongside the archer.

‘Here, it’s here.’

In the darkness I listen as the lads reach the ladder and we all grab a rung, grab each other and help hold Meredith above the water. The waves slosh harder and faster but with Clarence and Roy above us there is no space to climb.

‘On three…’ Clarence grunts, ‘one…two…THREE.’ An almighty explosion of energy and the rung under Roy’s feet screeches and buckles. A grinding noise and the sustained roar of Clarence heaving with every ounce of his strength as he pushes the hatch open.

Light spills in, silvery and dull but after the pitch dark it’s a beauty to behold. I don’t know who gets out first but I feel a hand gripping me and helping me up. I turn I grasp Paula who holds the dog by her neck as the lads push Meredith from underneath.

We disgorge dripping, panting and puking onto a rough concrete floor and crawl away from the hatch as though scared we’ll get sucked back down. Meredith runs to each of us, stopping to shake every few seconds. Rough licks from her tongue and she gives low whines before flopping down to rest.

‘Everyone alive?’ I lift my head and count the bodies lying flat out before I flop back down and stare up through the high windows to the beautiful moon and stars high in the sky.

Fourteen

The pure fury coursing through her veins eases back as the true facts of the situation present unravel. Howie gone from a set of rooms with only one entrance that was being watched the entire time.

Lani wants to look for herself but can’t risk leaving the crews without constant observation and not one of the terrified survivors moved forward when she called for assistance.

She has control but what now?

‘I can’t see anything in there,’ Lilly steps close to Lani and whispers with a low voice, ‘I’ll need a torch and two hands but this grenade…’

‘Throw it over the wall.’

‘I might miss, what if it bounces back down?’

‘Go out the front then, throw it into the sea.’

‘You’ll be okay here?’

Lani nods and thinks, the sullen expression etched on her face is masked by the dim light and deep shadows.

How many did she kill? One outside the hospital, another was running, wasn’t there someone on top of the walls? And Darius. She bites her bottom lip at the thought of the death brought by her hands. Control was needed though. Instant compliance to gain control and ensure the safety of Howie and the rest.

She thinks and watches the crews, using a torch found on the ground to sweep over the young petrified and sulky looking faces. Some look down with wet cheeks, others stare back with utter hatred in their eyes

A dull thud booms into the night as the grenade detonates safely in the sea. Thrown by Lilly without any thought of the tunnel running under her feet and the percussion effect of the energy displacement on the old bricks and mortar.

She walks back inside flexing her right hand open and closed with relief from finally being rid of the heavy object.

‘Done,’ she looks to Lani then back at the supplicated youths crammed together, ‘what now?’

‘We need to search the inside of the rooms and find out how they got out…wait,’ she says quickly as Lilly goes to head inside. Holding the torch she once again sweeps the beam from face to face, ‘where’s Jagger and Mo Mo?’

‘I haven’t seen them,’ Lilly steps towards the kneeling children to scan the faces.

‘Lenski, where’s Jagger and Mo Mo?’ Lani holds the beam on the Polish woman.

‘Offices.’

‘Lilly, go check…take a weapon with you. Do you know how to fire one?’

‘Nick showed me how to shoot a pistol.’

‘Take one with you, make sure the safety is off and don’t hesitate to shoot if they turn on you.’

‘Okay,’ Lilly darts into the opening of the armoury and the pile of weapons dropped there, coming back out with a pistol held in both hands like Nick showed her.

She runs down the inside of the wall and pauses at the doorway, feeling stupid and somewhat self-conscious she peers through and into the lantern illuminated interior, pistol held low.

‘Mo Mo?’ She half whispers half shouts then steps inside, ‘Mo Mo? Jagger?’

Nothing here. She creeps through the room checking under the table and heads to the doorway at the back which she cracks open and stops again, ‘Mo Mo?’ She calls out louder this time and hears a muffled voice shouting then a solid bang against the door at the far end.

She checks each side room going down, the pistol held ready until she reaches the bottom door, ‘Mo Mo? Are you in there?’

‘Who’s that? Tell Maddox I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,’ Mo Mo’s voice seethes through the door, ‘has he hurt Mr Howie?’

‘Stand back from the door, I’ll open it.’

‘Who is that?’

‘Lilly, it’s Lilly…are you armed?’

‘Armed? Fuckin’ wouldn’t be stuffed in here if we was armed…what the fuck is going on? Where’s Maddox?’

‘Please stand back from the door,’ Lilly asks politely, ‘I have a gun and I need to see you before you can come out.’

‘Lilly, it’s Jagger…you on your own?’

‘You have to stand back from the door,’ Lilly says urgently.

‘Okay, okay we’re back,’ she frowns, unable to tell the voices apart but picking up the greater distance.

The key in the lock and she flicks it over before stepping back with the pistol up and aimed, ‘okay…open the door…but do not do anything…’

‘Take it easy,’ one of the voices says. The handle creaks down, the door cracks and swings in as Mo Mo and Jagger show themselves with arms raised.

‘Are you alone?’ Mo Mo mouths the words to Lilly, ‘where’s Maddox?’

‘What happened to you earlier?’ Lilly asks.

‘Maddox got us out at gunpoint…the fuckin’ prick held a pistol to my head.’

‘Darius did me,’ Jagger says angrily, ‘what the fuck is going on? We’ve been in here for hours.’

‘Come out,’ Lilly says, ‘but move slowly.’

‘No way,’ Mo Mo shakes his head as he places a hand on Jaggers arm to prevent him moving, ‘you tell that cunt he can come in here if he wants to kill us.’

‘Who?’

‘Maddox…fucking coward…MADDOX? YOU THERE?’ Mo Mo’s voice booms loud and frighteningly sudden.

‘He said Lani was infected,’ Jagger says, ‘but she ain’t…we saw her on the way back and she ain’t infected…he said Howie and them’s are infected but they ain’t…’

‘I know,’ Lilly says quietly.

‘What’s Maddox doing, Lilly?’ Mo Mo asks, ‘why’s he doing it them?’

‘Come out,’ Lilly beckons them forward, ‘but please go slowly.’

‘We ain’t coming out,’ Mo Mo says firmly.

‘Things have happened,’ Lilly says.

‘What things?’ Mo Mo asks quickly, ‘Lilly…what things? Is Howie and that lot okay? What about Lani? She okay?’

‘I er…’ Lilly hesitates, knowing Mo Mo and Jagger were working with Howie but they were originally with Maddox, how can she tell where their loyalties lie.

‘Please,’ she pleads, ‘just come out and speak to Lani.’

‘Lani?’ Mo Mo and Jagger spare a glance at each other, ‘where is she?’ That gets them moving as they head down the corridor and into the main room.

‘Where is everyone?’ Mo Mo looks round at the vacated room, ‘where’s Lani?’

‘Outside,’ Lilly says.

‘Is this a trap?’ Jagger asks.

‘Which side are you on?’ Lilly asks the question outright.

‘Side? What side?’ Mo Mo asks, ‘what you on about?’

‘Howie and Maddox?’ Jagger nods, ‘we’re with Howie. Maddox is a dirty cunt…’

‘Mo Mo?’

‘Howie,’ he nods, ‘and fuck you if you shoot us for it…and you tell that coward we died calling him out.’

‘Come outside but please, please move slowly and don’t shout or do anything.’

They both stare in confusion but follow the plaintive pleads as Lilly backs up through the room to the main door and out into the fort.

‘Fuck,’ Mo Mo gasps at the sight before them, ‘Lani? That you?’

‘Here,’ she says, ‘what happened to you?’

‘Maddox forced us out at gunpoint,’ Mo Mo says as they head towards Lani, ‘had a hand over our mouths and pistol shoved in my fuckin’ ear…Darius did the same to Jagger.’

Lani hesitates for a second as the two lads walk over. They were there, in the munitions factory and they fought like demons to protect Howie. They were part of the team and sometimes a chance has to be taken.

‘You with me?’ Lani asks quickly, ‘or with them?’

‘Mr Howie,’ Mo Mo says without hesitation, ‘we’re with him…where is he?’

‘Grab a weapon from the armoury,’ she nods to the doorway knowing this is the point of risk. The two lads run inside and she listens to the all familiar sounds of magazines being taken out, checked and put back in before bolts are pulled back and the guns made ready.

‘Did you know you got your bra and pants on?’ Mo Mo asks as he steps beside her and holds his weapon at the ready pointed towards the crews.

‘Yep.’

‘Awesome,’ Jagger joins her other side and suddenly the one is a three and the lines are drawn.

‘Is that Darius?’ Mo Mo asks with a nod to the mangled remains a few metres away.

‘Yep. Shot him.’

‘You missed out, Jagger.’

‘Fuck him, dead is dead,’ Jagger spits to the side, ‘where’s Mads?’

‘Over there somewhere,’ Lani nods towards the middle, ‘I tazered him…like eight or nine times.’

‘Fuck,’ Jagger lifts his eyebrows, ‘you alright then?’

‘I am now,’ she says and allows a brief smile at the two lads, ‘thank fuck you’re on our side.’

‘Always,’ Mo Mo says, ‘now what the fuck is going on?’

Lilly blinks in awe at the sight. Lani taking utter control of the fort in seconds. No hesitation, no pause, no bargaining. Pure ruthless action that displayed a readiness to do what was needed. The risk she took and the calmness in doing it by trusting Mo Mo and Jagger. But the bond is clear, an almost tangible thing between them. The way they stand with legs planted. The way they hold their weapons and the way they watch, always watching, always scanning.

Jagger and Mo Mo must be the same age as her and a day or two ago they were just kids but now, now they’ve grown and have the manner of men. That’s Mr Howie’s team, right there. The bond and the manner of unspoken loyalty between them and in those few seconds she knows she did the right thing.

Lani brings them up to speed with clipped sentences that convey the bare facts. The lads nod and listen but watch the crews ranged out in front of them.

‘Got to be a way out innit,’ Mo Mo says, ‘Jagger, you go with Lilly and check…I’ll stay here with Lani.’

‘On it,’ Jagger emulates the affirmative response given by Blowers, Cookey and Nick as he heads inside with a nod to Lilly to follow him.

‘I can’t believe he did it,’ Mo Mo shakes his head, ‘not like that…fuckin’ bang out of order, you get me?’

‘I do.’

‘I don’t wanna be part of anything they were,’ Mo Mo says with hard glares at his former friends, ‘you lot disgust me…Mr Howie gave us this place…you’s got no idea what he’s done for you.’

‘What’s gonna happen, Mo Mo?’ A girl asks quietly.

‘Tasha? That you? What the fuck? I mean…what the fuck? Maddox said you’s got to tell him if he does the wrong thing…he said that…we all heard it…all the crew chiefs…’

‘He no do the wrong thing,’ Lenski speaks out in furious voice, ‘she shoot Darius…she shoot children.’

‘Not children,’ Mo Mo shakes his head, ‘armed guards…you get me? You threatened them first…they just brought the fight back to you and showed you up for the fools you are. You’s lot are trying to be like the feds all dressed in black…you waited till they were asleep and got me and Jagger out by gunpoint! Fucking gunpoint…’

‘Mo Mo, you gotta see this,’ Jagger rushes from the armoury.

‘Go on,’ Lani nods for him to go, ‘everyone stay quiet now.’

‘What?’ Mo Mo asks following Jagger through the main room and into a side room.

‘Trap door innit,’ Jagger says excitedly. Mo Mo stares down at the now clear lines in the hatch back in place in the concrete floor.

‘Try and open it,’ Lilly says, holding the torch while the two lads get their fingertips into the edge and start prising it up.

‘Flooded,’ Mo Mo stares down at the sloshing water still animated from pouring into the breached roof further in the tunnel, ‘but they went that way.’

‘So they’s gone then,’ Jagger says, ‘you reckon they got out?’

‘Fuckin’ hope so,’ Mo Mo says standing up.

A minute later and while Jagger and Mo Mo keep watch, Lani is shown the trapdoor and the still rising water within by Lilly holding the torch.

‘Oh my,’ Lani shakes her head, ‘that water’s rising…see the sides…’

‘I saw,’ Lilly says, ‘it’s gone up inches in the last minute.’

Lani exhales and stares down at the inky water, ‘just got to wait now,’ she shakes her head with a slight smile.

‘Wait? What for?’ Lilly asks softly.

‘For them to come back,’ Lani says with a shrug then notices the pained look on Lilly’s face, ‘oh you think they’d get stuck down there? No. You’ve not worked with them. They’ll be somewhere bickering and arguing like normal…’

‘Do they bicker?’

‘All the time,’ Lani laughs, ‘like non-stop.’

‘I thought you were all really professional,’ Lilly says with another look down into the dark access hatch.

‘Ha! Us? Are you joking?’ Lani chuckles again, ‘We get the job done but…no, professional is not a word I would use…wait till I tell ‘em everyone thinks they’re professional. Come on, I need some clean clothes.’

Fifteen

‘I really don’t think that getting cigarettes and a new lighter is at the top of the list,’ Paula says for the third time.

‘That’s cos you don’t smoke, Paula,’ Nick explains, ‘if you did smoke you’d understand.’

‘So let me get this right, we’ve just almost drowned in a horrible…horrible tunnel, we are in our underwear with no weapons, no clothes in the middle of the night and you want to get cigarettes and a lighter first?’

‘Yes,’ Nick nods firmly.

Paula pulls the sodden material of her top down to cover the exposed boob that everyone is actively avoiding looking at, ‘do we even know where we are?’ She asks round the group.

‘We’re here,’ Clarence groans, still laid flat out on the ground, ‘and not down there…that’s all that matters.’

‘That was nasty,’ I say quietly, ‘got to be the nastiest thing yet.’

‘I had a spider,’ Paula says.

‘Eh?’ I look up then quickly drop my head as she tugs the t shirt back down.

‘Spider,’ she says again, ‘I was trapped in a toilet in a garage…two of them were outside the door and a spider was crawling along the ground towards my foot.’

‘Nasty,’ Cookey winces, ‘what did you do?’

She smiles with a low chuckle, ‘I thought it went up my leg so I ran out and attacked the zombies while trying to get rid of it.’

‘Not worse than that,’ Clarence says, ‘nothing could be worse than that.’

‘Ah well, we’re here now. Best get on with it.’ I sit up and think for a second. Lani is in the hospital and we’ve got until two o’clock before Lilly sets the distraction off. If we move quickly we could time it to break in when the distraction goes off. Grab some weapons and get Lani out.

‘There’ll be a crew on the beach,’ I say quickly, ‘Maddox said he’s leaving one there all the time.’

‘They’ll be armed,’ Paula says, ‘and near the Saxon…which is armoured.’

‘And has a GPMG on the top,’ Clarence adds.

‘Maddox would have radioed them by now,’ I say, ‘they’ll shoot us on sight.’

‘Moon’s up,’ Clarence says glancing up at the windows, ‘no chance of sneaking up on them.’

‘Roy could take them out with a bow,’ Nick suggests.

‘They’re children,’ Roy says, ‘I’m not killing children.’

‘Shoot them in the legs,’ Cookey says.

‘How’s that going to stop them shooting at us?’ Blowers asks.

‘Shoot them in the hands then? Roy could do it.’

‘I could but I won’t.’

‘Listen,’ I gain the attention of the group, ‘they are children but they’re also armed and in control of the fort…if we’re going to get Lani out we might have to accept the fact they will sustain losses.’

‘Fair enough,’ Roy says, ‘I’ll return fire if I am fired upon but I won’t do it first.’

‘You can’t argue with that,’ Clarence says, ‘I agree.’

‘Dave, can you get in and get Lani out?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Could you do it without killing everybody?’

‘Everybody? Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Could you do it without killing anybody?’

‘No.’

‘So a distraction has to be both visual and audible. Is that right?’

‘Yes, Mr Howie.’

‘Will visual work on its own without audible?’

‘If it’s strong enough it will.’

‘Excellent, we’re moving out. Everybody ready?’

‘What now?’ Clarence groans.

‘Yes, you need more of a rest?’

‘No, I’m fine,’ he says levering himself up.’

‘Good, because we ain’t getting one.’

‘I think I preferred the grumpy Mr Howie.’

‘Right,’ I stand up with the idea charging through my mind, ‘where the hell are we and how do we get out?’

Roy was right. We’re in an old warehouse that must have been built at the same time as the fort and now turned over to boat repairs. We get from the back room into store rooms and through to offices and finally break down a door before getting into the open. A quick scout round and we find our bearings, slap bang in the middle of the industrial units behind where the housing estate once was.

‘Where are we going?’ Paula asks as I peer up at the moon then round at the team gathered in a circle.

‘It is bright tonight,’ I say quietly, ‘really bright…you don’t even need a torch…I can see everything really clearly.’

‘Boss?’ Clarence casts me a slightly worried look.

‘This way…oh no…is that way east?’

‘Yes,’ Roy replies, ‘did you want east?’

‘I did…come on.’ I take the lead in my underpants and let everyone fall in behind me in their underpants and Paula tugging her top down constantly.

‘Are you sharing this idea?’ Paula asks, ‘and does it involve getting clothes?’

‘Yes and yes,’ I stare ahead and work out the way to the housing estate and then head away from it, ‘fuck it, I’m hopeless at finding my way. We need to find the houses across the bay…’

‘Marcy,’ Clarence nods knowingly.

‘Yep. Roy, can you find the way?’

‘I can,’ he takes the lead and we fall in behind him. Walking in silence and feeling only slightly vulnerable being out in the open mostly naked and without weapons. Bare feet pad on the road until we hit the hedge. We head down, find a gate and go across fields but stick to the perimeter.

‘Why are we going to Marcy?’ Clarence asks.

‘Ssshhh,’ I whisper back and for once I want to keep my plan quiet.

‘Bay is right there,’ Roy points towards a thick hedge, ‘stay quiet.’

I pass the message down and we creep along as quiet as possible until we reach a five bar gate at the end. Roy goes first then motions me forward.

Peering through the bars I can make out the bulk of the Saxon and the figures on the beach standing about. The red embers of cigarettes glow and muted snatches of conversation drift back.

‘They look relaxed,’ Roy says in a low whisper.

‘Maybe Maddox hasn’t noticed we’re gone yet, keep going.’ We get past the gate one at a time and through into the next field that borders the access lane into the seafront houses.

Safely out of view of the beach and we scurry along the lane, moving silently on the tarmacked road as we strain to keep watch on all sides. I take the lead and head us further down past the backs of the houses and through an alley running between two big detached wooden built chalet style houses. With the moon so bright we navigate easily without the worry of trip hazards.

The main road through the middle of the big expensive houses is directly ahead and we stop in a huddle staring along to the darkened windows and the silence of the area.

‘Stay here,’ I whisper.

‘Where are you going?’ Clarence asks.

‘Find Marcy,’ I dart out then stand straight and walk with purpose to the middle of the road where I stop dead and slowly turn. I can almost feel that she’ll be watching. One of these windows will have her hidden behind, watching, waiting. That I’m only wearing pants makes me feel utterly ridiculous. I move a few metres to one side so the houses further down can see me, then back the other way to do the same thing the other end. Up and down the road. Pacing in my pants.

‘Doesn’t appear to be working,’ Paula strolls out, ‘and I need a bra.’

‘Okay,’ I nod as the rest come walking out with the silvery moon glinting off their naked torsos.

‘Did you think she would just walk out?’ Paula asks me quietly.

‘Pretty much,’ I shrug, ‘had to be worth a go.’

‘Eyes up,’ Dave nods across the road to the seaward side and the front door opening.

Marcy walks out with her head held high and dressed immaculately in jeans and a simple white top. The sight of her takes my breath away and I have to steel myself not to react. She stops at the end of the short garden path and stands easy for a second before folding her arms.

‘What on earth?’ She shakes her head slowly as Reginald comes bustling out behind her, ‘what do you look like?’

I shrug and look round at the group all standing still.

‘Hi, Marcy,’ Cookey waves without shame.

‘Hi, Cookey,’ Marcy smiles a huge grin, ‘Blowers, Nick.’

‘Marcy,’ Blowers nods.

‘Hey,’ Nick tilts his head back, ‘how are you?’

‘Fine,’ she says with a nod, ‘better than you by the look of it. Hello, Clarence.’

‘Hullo,’ he says in his deep voice, ‘er…thanks for saving us in the fort that day.’

She nods then shakes her head with a confused look.

‘Dave,’ she nods formally.

‘Marcy,’ he replies but watches her and Reginald with the same deadpan expression as ever.

‘I’m Paula, er…this is Roy,’ Paula says tugging her top down again.

‘Hi, er…would you like to come in?’

‘Do you have a spare bra?’

‘Yes, yes I do and I have clothes too…you’re welcome to take what you need.’

‘Thanks,’ Paula goes to move off then stops when I don’t move, ‘oh er…’ she falls silent and steps back.

‘Marcy,’ I nod across the distance and feel the same as I did when I met on the flatlands for the first time. Like the world is spinning and time ceases to be. Something here, a connection, a bond. Something intrinsic and organic yet too fleeting to grasp or understand.

‘Howie,’ her tone changes when she says my name, perhaps it drops a little or maybe it’s higher. I can’t tell but it’s different.

‘We got your message.’

‘Good.’

‘So….’

‘So you thought you’d visit me in the middle of the night wearing your pants?’

‘Had some trouble.’

‘You wouldn’t be you without trouble. I mean that collectively.’

‘Right…so…do you have any zombies in there?’ I point stupidly at the house behind her.

‘No, no zombies. Just me and Reggie and he prefers the term…’

‘Living challenged, I remember.’

‘Reginald,’ Reginald mutters.

‘Are we safe?’

‘Probably more safe in here than out there unarmed and naked.’

‘Sod this, I need a bra. Can I come in please?’

‘Sure, We’ve got a gas bottle, running water and coffee too.’

‘Wait for it,’ Clarence rumbles as the group sets off as one, ‘Mr Howie hasn’t said we can go yet.’

‘We can go,’ I’m halfway across the road and feeling oh so very self-conscious as Marcy appraises me up and down with a perfectly sculptured raised eyebrow before turning to lead the way with a wry smile on her face.

Sixteen

The eight of us stand clustered in the huge shaker style kitchen, all of watching Meredith as she tracks Reginald with a look that suggests she may pounce at any second. Ears pricked and she hardly blinks.

Marcy walks in holding a bundle of clothes for Paula, ‘I think these will fit, you look about my size. They’re clean.’ Without thinking she heads straight to Meredith who simply leans over to peer round her and keep watch on Reginald.

‘Thanks,’ Paula takes the bundle, ‘through there?’ She nods at a door behind us.’

‘Sure, or upstairs…there’s hairbrushes in the bathroom.’

‘Any hairbands?’

‘Loads,’ Marcy smiles, ‘I can’t walk past one now without picking it up.’

‘Oh I’m the same,’ Paula groans, ‘they break so easily.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Marcy says with a roll of her red bloodshot eyes as her hand drops in an absent minded way to stroke the soft fur on top of Meredith’s head. The dog shows no reaction, a flicker of movement as she looks briefly up at Marcy, a twitch of her tail but she remains locked on Reginald.

‘You don’t look infected,’ Paula stares with interest at the other woman, ‘your eyes obviously but…your hair is in amazing condition…can I touch it?’

‘Sure,’ Marcy steps forward so Paula can reach out.

‘Wow, so soft. And your skin…you look better than me!’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Marcy smiles coyly, ‘you look great considering what you’ve been through.’

‘Thanks,’ Paula smiles back, ‘I mean, you’re not pale or…your skin looks incredible…are you infected?’

‘I am,’ Marcy nods, ‘definitely.’

‘Why is it different in you?’

‘Me and Blowers are immune now,’ Cookey announces, quite clearly wanting Marcy’s attention. Can’t blame him, I can’t take my eyes off her.

Marcy looks at Cookey then at me with a sharp gaze, ‘is that true?’

‘Yep,’ Cookey says wistfully, ‘me and April could have got married and had babies after all…’

‘Oh fucking hell,’ Blowers gives voice as the rest of us groan in dismay.

‘Until Dave chopped her head off.’

‘I did not cut her head off.’

‘Okay,’ Cookey shrugs then stage whispers to Marcy, ‘he did.’

‘Are all of you immune?’ Marcy asks with a look round.

‘We don’t know. Me, Lani, Cookey and Blowers and Meredith of course…’

‘And I’m not infected to the level of everyone else…neither is Reggie…’ she frowns in a gesture which just makes my stomach flip.

‘Clothes,’ I suddenly feel too naked and exposed, ‘we need clothes.’

‘Yes,’ she says quickly as though snapping free from the same thoughts as me, ‘er…Reggie, what have we got here?’

‘Oh I do apologise,’ he says after a pause, ‘are you addressing me?’

‘Yes,’ she sighs with the same exasperation I have with Dave sometimes.

‘I only ask because my name is Reginald and of course, not Reggie. Surely with the influx of people I assumed there was someone called Reggie standing nearby wearing only his undergarments.’

‘It’s painful sometimes, it really is.’

‘Try working with this lot,’ Paula says.

‘In answer to your question,’ he says huffily, ‘yes there are some clothes but none that will suitable and none that will fit Clarence. However,’ he adds with a flourish, ‘during my forages I have identified a house further down the road that appears to have had a larger built occupant.’

‘Clarence, you take the others and find clothes…perhaps Reginald can show you where that house is.’

‘The house in question is two down on the same…oh…’ he trails off with an arched look from Marcy, ‘of course,’ he smiles briefly, ‘I would be delighted to be your tour guide.’

‘Sure?’ Clarence asks me quietly as the rest start bustling out.

I nod back, ‘yeah, Paula is here.’

‘You keeping Meredith with you?’

‘Up to her,’ I shrug as the dog sets off to keep her two soft brown eyes fixed on Reginald.

‘Mr Howie will be fine,’ Marcy says softly.

‘Good,’ Clarence smiles without humour, ‘because I will kill you if he isn’t…won’t be long.’

We remain in the kitchen. Marcy and I. Paula in another room getting dressed.

‘You can’t blame him,’ I say after a while.

‘Oh not at all,’ she replies quickly, ‘no offence taken.’

‘I mean, you did try and kill me before.’

‘Really? From my memory I saved you…and then saved you again.’

‘Yeah what about the bit in the middle?’ We lock eyes with only a few feet between us and right now, I don’t see the red in them. Just her. Just Marcy. Marcy.

‘Oh that,’ she says sheepishly, ‘yeah,’ she bites her bottom lip gently and motions as if to say oops.

‘From my recollection,’ she says slowly, ‘I wasn’t so much trying to kill you as…’

‘As what?’

‘Stop it,’ she says softly.

‘My god, you are actually blushing,’ I lean forward to stare at the crimson flush spreading across the golden skin of her cheeks.

‘I’m still a woman,’ she mutters.

‘Are you?’

‘Yes, Howie. I am,’ she says defiantly, ‘very much a woman.’

‘I need your help,’ I realise with a start that having been here only minutes and I’m flirting, ‘Maddox turned against us.’

‘Maddox?’ She shakes her head, ‘who is Maddox?’

‘Oh right, bloody hell…didn’t we tell you about him?’

‘The name rings a bell but…er…council estate? Wasn’t he the man in the council estate?’

‘That’s him. He turned up after we killed all your zombies and you know about Lani?’

‘Lani? You said a minute ago that you are immune…and Lani…so from that I gathered she was okay.’

‘We found her locked in the toilets…where you left her.’

‘I see,’ she says carefully.

‘And she wasn’t infected. No red eyes, no nothing…she’s fine. More than fine in fact. She heals incredibly fast.’

‘Heals?’

‘We all do, I mean me, Blowers, Cookey and Lani…even Meredith. We get busted up in every scrap, bitten, punched, hit, kicked, raked…you name it…but we heal.’

‘The others?’

I nod slowly, ‘we don’t know for sure and to be honest we haven’t even had time to discuss it…but I’ve noticed Nick is the same but then he’s a good fighter and doesn't get hurt that much. Clarence is Clarence and as for Dave…’

‘Nothing touches Dave,’ she finishes my sentence.

‘Exactly. Maddox turned up and we sort of joined forces. He took over the fort while we went out and got what we needed.’

‘Can I come in?’

I twist round to see Paula in the doorway brushing her still damp hair.

‘Course.’

‘You look better,’ Marcy says with a smile.

She walks in wearing jeans and a black t shirt but still barefoot, ‘I feel human again,’ she smiles, ‘and I have two hairbands…two hairbands…a bloody luxury. And I hate not wearing a bra,’ she scowls.

‘Oh I know,’ Marcy says with a shake of her head, ‘bloody things bouncing about.’

‘Just feels better,’ Paula says earnestly, ‘you know? Like all back together…’

‘No fun being busty sometimes,’ Marcy says.

‘Poor lads,’ Paula chuckles softly, ‘one of my nipples kept poking out…they didn’t know where to look bless ‘em.’

‘I saw,’ Marcy laughs, ‘and them all looking everywhere else…still, that’s nice that they were decent about it.’

‘Oh they’re lovely,’ Paula replies, ‘I am gagging for a cuppa, mind if I make one?’

‘Sorry,’ Marcy turns towards the sideboard and the camping grill attached to a gas bottle.

‘I’m getting split ends,’ Paula sighs while holding a few strands of hair in front of her face.

‘Conditioner upstairs,’ Marcy says, ‘help yourself.’

‘Sod it, I’d rather have the cuppa.’

I shake my head slowly and marvel at the way of the woman. They chat like women chat. About hair and bras and split ends. They roll eyes and make tutting sounds while moving deftly round each other to get cups and teaspoons. I guess they must be the same age and I can’t help my eyes keep drifting back to Marcy.

‘I’ll go find clothes,’ I head towards the door. They both mutter goodbyes and resume the conversation about the difference of washing your hair in hot water compared to cold.

Feeling somewhat dejected I head outside to see the lads walking back carrying bundles in their arms and shoes hanging from laces.

‘Everything okay?’ Clarence asks at the sight of me standing outside.

‘Talking about split ends,’ I motion towards the house with a tilt of my head, ‘and hairbands and bras and…’

‘Oh,’ Clarence stops and nods slowly, ‘so we getting changed here or inside?’

‘Here will do,’ I shrug and watch as they unceremoniously dump the clothes on the ground for a free for all dive into the piles. Jeans are pulled free, tops are held up to see if they will fit. Odd socks and we press shoes against the soles of our feet. Five minutes and we’re all dressed in a range of dark clothes.

‘Nice shirt,’ I nod at Clarence tugging on a smart black dress shirt.

‘All I could find,’ he says and rolls the sleeves up, ‘it’ll do.’

‘Any smokes?’

‘Oh yes,’ Nick nods and produces a sealed packet, ‘they got a light in there?’

‘Gas stove, they’re brewing up now.’

‘Blowers, you don’t wear socks with deck shoes,’ Cookey says staring down at Blowers’ ankles.

‘Who gives a fuck?’

‘You look like a twat.’

‘So?’

‘They’re odd socks…in jeans with deck shoes.’

‘And I say it again, so?’

‘Fine,’ Cookey holds his hand up showing the palm to Blowers, ‘but when the other children laugh at you don’t say you weren’t told.’

‘Dick,’ Blowers says but stares down at his feet.

We head back into the house and the pleasant aroma of coffee filling the room and the sight of Paula and Marcy deep in discussion with much nodding of heads, rolling of eyes and tutting. Lots of tutting.

‘Can I use the stove to light up?’ Nick asks with a cigarette already hanging from his mouth.

‘Carry on,’ Marcy says, ‘coffees on the side, help yourself. None of them are sugared and we don’t have any milk.’

‘Cheers,’ Nick bends and holds the end close to the blue flame. Once lit he hands it over to Blowers and repeats the action with Cookey then me.

‘Christ,’ Paula tuts again and opens the back door, ‘stand over here you lot.’

This is too normal. Far too normal. The way the lads interact with Marcy is like she’s one of us. Even Reginald bustles about chatting amiably with Clarence and I remember how well they got on when we got drunk that night. She smiles warmly at them, passing mugs over and teaspoons so they can put sugar in. She and Paula comment on the clothes now being worn and both remark how smart Clarence looks in a proper button up shirt.

‘Seen Blowers shoes?’ Cookey says as Blowers rolls his eyes with a groan.

‘Why?’ Marcy leans round to look down, ‘oh…oh right…’

‘What?’ Blowers says defensively, ‘does it matter?’

‘Socks and deck shoes don’t go,’ she says apologetically.

‘Ha! Told you,’ Cookey nods in victory.

‘Really? I mean fucking really? They’ll rub my feet without socks.’

‘Couldn’t you find normal shoes?’ Paula asks.

‘No I bloody couldn’t,’ Blowers exclaims, ‘fuck off, Cookey.’

‘Funny as fuck, mate.’

‘And you can fuck off too, Nick.’

‘What? You’re the one wearing socks with deck shoes.’

‘Oh for…’ Blowers puts his mug and lifts a leg to pull the shoe off, ‘fine…’

‘No, keep them on,’ Paula says quickly, ‘they’re fine, really.’

‘No…too late now, God forbid we don’t look right,’ he tugs the sock off which gets launched at Cookey pissing himself against the kitchen side, ‘better?’ He asks with both naked feet shoved back in the deck shoes.

‘Right,’ I announce, ‘where were we?’

‘Paula has got me up to speed,’ Marcy replies.

‘Oh,’ I say and blink quickly, ‘right…so…’

‘Sorry,’ Paula says quickly, ‘did you want to tell her?’

‘No no, no it er…doesn't matter. As long as you’re up to speed on everything…I mean…so you know about the doctors?’

‘Yes.’

‘Great…and the er…the munitions factory?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, and er…did Paula mention anything about my er…’

‘Yes. She said you flipped out.’

‘Right, yes well I can see you’re fully briefed on the er…the current situation at er…at hand and….what the bloody hell are you lot looking at?’

‘Nothing, boss.’

‘Sorry, Mr Howie.’

‘So we’ve got to get Lani out?’ Marcy asks.

‘We?’ Clarence asks.

‘I say, I am sorry to interrupt the slightly awkward proceedings and the obvious piqued annoyance of Mr Howie but is this dog okay?’

‘She’s fine,’ Nick says.

‘She keeps staring at me.’

‘She’s probably hungry,’ Nick says.

‘Hungry?’

‘They’re teasing you,’ Marcy says, ‘just ignore her.’

‘Ignore her? Have you seen how big she is?’

‘I wasn’t annoyed,’ I say quickly to another awkward silence in the room, ‘fuck’s sake,’ I sigh, ‘right…anyway…Lani, yes we’ve got to get her out.’

‘Paula said you had a plan.’

‘Yes,’ I feel a sense of pleasure that at least Paula couldn’t tell her what the plan was, ‘er…’ I freeze and remember what the plan was which suddenly doesn't seem such a good plan.

‘Well, what is it?’ Paula asks.

‘Um…Dave said a distraction has to be both visual and audible but…if the visual is strong enough then it will work on its own.’

‘Okay,’ Marcy prompts me, ‘what is it?’

Hesitantly, and feeling like an idiot I outline the plan to a stunned silence and a smirk plastered across the face of Cookey who I knew would love it.

‘You are joking, right?’ Paula glares at me.

‘Um…not really?’

‘Great plan,’ Cookey nods admiringly.

‘Fucking awesome plan,’ Nick says.

‘Best one yet,’ Blowers says.

‘You are joking, right?’ Paula glares round the room, ‘Roy? Did you hear this?’

‘I did,’ he says from the back, ‘and er…yes, yes it sounds good.’

Seventeen

Voices of teenage boys drift on the warm thermals of air. Voices of boys in the full throws of puberty. Voices that are trying to sound deeper than they really are. The scratchy tones of inner city accents, clipped, curt and constantly bordering from passive aggressive to confrontational.

I glance and watch the others all staring through the bottom of the five bar gate and through gaps in the hedge. The beach is just across the road. Close enough for them to hear if one of us so much as farts or coughs.

Nick keeps Meredith close to him and she seems to sense there is action afoot as she stays quietly by his side but her ears are pricked and her eyes are constantly flicking side to side as the snatches of conversation come at us.

The idea suddenly seems full of folly. Ridiculous and doomed to fail. My initial instinct was strong but it’s waning fast and a part of me wants to rush back to stop them proceeding.

Too late and we all tense as the sound of laughter drifts over from the far side of the bay.

‘You hear that?’ A teenage voice asks the others and I watch as first one boy gets to his feet and stares about. He turns to look and scans the area within which we lie waiting but he completes the turn, ‘wassat?’ He takes a step away from the others at the next sound of laughing.

‘Dunno, someone pissin’ about innit,’ another boy says lumbering to his feet with the oversized weapon hanging from a strap across his back.

‘You look…so…so…silly!’ Paula’s voice, shrill and excited yet slurred, she bursts out laughing with a sound that has every youth on the beach getting to his feet, ‘it’s night time!’

‘I know,’ Marcy says back, slurred and full of righteous dignity, ‘but I wanna look good.’

‘For who?’ Paula laughs, ‘they’ve…’ she hiccups and they both laugh, ‘oops…I mean for who? No…no men now.’

It sounds too fake, too forced. Contrived and weird. Paula acting drunk and giggly, Marcy being drunk and mock serious. The lads on the beach glance at each other but remain silent as they bring weapons up and make ready. The crew chief, a bigger boy, waves his hand at them to stay still and quiet.

‘GONE!’ Marcy shouts so loud it makes everyone jump, not just me but the others with me and every lad on the beach too, ‘ALL GONE.’

‘Sssshhhhh,’ Paula giggles.

‘Don’t care,’ Marcy says petulantly, ‘fuck ‘em…’

‘You wish!’

They both cackle and I cringe at the awful noise. I cast a glance at Clarence who shakes his head in resignation. It won’t work.

‘Too much,’ he whispers softly, ‘they’ll never buy it.’

I shrug and tense my body, ready to leap up.

‘Nice idea,’ Roy says from the other side.

Fuck it. Stupid. Bloody stupid and I’ve ruined any element of surprise.

‘Call it off,’ Clarence urges.

‘No.’

We all twist to stare at Dave who doesn't turn or take his eyes from the lads on the beach, ‘wait.’

Dave is without doubt, the most amazing human being I have ever met. But to rely on his inability to hear a contrived and obviously forced pretend drunken play act is too great a risk.

I go to speak as everyone makes ready to lift and run forward but he simply holds one hand up and looks down the line at me, ‘wait,’ he says, ‘wait for the visual.’

Jaws clenched, eyes wide and hearts hammering we force ourselves to hold position despite every instinct urging us to react.

The drunken laughter gets closer. Slurred female voices and suddenly the visual element of the surprise comes into view. Executed to perfection and a perfect spot chosen as they both stumble into a patch of beach bathed in the bright light of the moon.

‘Holy fuck,’ someone says. I don’t know who. It might have been me. The sight renders my ability to focus on anything else completely redundant.

Paula and Marcy. Both of them holding a wine bottle that they keep lifting to their mouths. Both of them dressed in skin tight flimsy dresses. Hair immaculate. Make up perfect. Toned, fresh. Heaving cleavages, legs and thighs that seem to go on for ever and ever. Clearly drunk as they stagger and collide into each other. Giggling, stopping to swig, laughing and spraying the wine out when they do.

Not girls but women. Real women with figures to make a sculptor weep. Marcy in apt black and Paula in white. The contrast between them is incredible and with the moonlight just so and the setting of the beach just so they capture every eye and hold every head transfixed.

‘Where is it?’ Marcy spins round dramatically.

‘What?’ Paula slurs.

‘Fort…the bloody fort,’ Marcy turns round in a slow circle, ‘this famous fort full of men…where…I mean…can’t see it…oops,’ she crashes into Paula and they go down in a heap of bare legs and tight dresses.

We crane our heads up, completely disregarding the lads on the beach but desperate to see the two women sprawling out.

Cackling, laughing and giggling they paw and shove playfully at each other and end up both crashing backwards with legs in the air.

‘Ah…comfy,’ Paula says as she wriggles into the soft sand.

‘Come on,’ Marcy gets onto her hands and knees and grabs the neck of the wine bottle, ‘get up,’ she crawls towards Paula knowing full well her cleavage is presented perfectly to the crew staring with open mouths, ‘come on you…’ she tugs playfully at Paula’s arm, ‘gotta get up…fort the find…I mean…’

‘Fort the find?’ Paula bursts out laughing, ‘you’re soooo drunk.’

‘So are you.’

‘Am not.’

‘Are so.’

‘Did you call me an arsehole?’

‘What? I said are so…get up.’

‘Staying here,’ Paula sighs, ‘it’s soft and warm.’ She pulls Marcy down with another giggle as Marcy sprawls out in a tangle of limbs.

‘S’warm,’ Marcy shuffles over until her head rests on Paula’s chest, ‘men are right.’

‘About what?’

‘Boobs,’ Marcy sighs, ‘they are like cushions,’ she wriggles her head into Paula’s chest, ‘I’m so drunk!’

‘Me too,’ Paula giggles again, ‘I…I don’t think the fort place is here…’

‘No,’ Marcy sighs drunkenly, ‘I might sleep now.’

‘No no no,’ Paula bucks her off, ‘I’m staying here to get eaten.’

‘You wish,’ Marcy laughs and flops over before starting to clamber unsteadily to her feet, ‘oh shit,’ she says as her sunglasses drop onto the sand, ‘my glasses.’

‘Daft cow,’ Paula reels back as she gets to her feet, ‘it’s night…’

‘They’re Prada!’ Marcy wails, plucking them off the sand she makes a meal of getting them back onto her face.

Paula turns and goes to move off then stops and sways on the spot. She blinks and shakes her head before staring again in a perfect act of trying to focus.

‘Here,’ she says suspiciously.

‘What?’ Marcy gets to her feet and starts tugging her dress as though to get it back in order.

‘Look,’ Paula says dreamily, ‘s’men…’

‘S’what?’

‘S’men.’

‘S’what’s men?’

‘Here.’

Marcy frowns, tugging her dress down too much as her cleavage threatens to spill out. She looks up and over at the crew, ‘oh…’

‘S’men.’

‘Is,’ Marcy sways, ‘men.’

‘Are you men?’ Paula asks with a swaying arm pointing at the crew, ‘are they men?’ She looks over at Marcy.

‘What the fuck?’ The crew chief says dumbly.

‘Oh…my…god…’ Marcy claps her hands excitedly.

‘Hello,’ Paula makes an effort to stand up straight and walks falteringly towards the crew chief, ‘hello man? I’m woman…’

Marcy bursts out laughing and staggers forward, ‘you can’t say that!’

‘Sorry,’ Paula slurs, ‘we had…we had a glass of wine.’

‘Ooh,’ Marcy sashays past the chief staring at Paula and heads deeper into the gaggle of youths, ‘you’ve all got such big guns….’ Hips swinging and cleavage bulging.

‘We,’ Paula tries to say politely, ‘are trying to find the fort. May you know where this place may be young Sir? Do you? Do you know?’

‘S’here, innit,’ the older lad stammers.

‘But where?’ Paula exclaims, ‘where is this fort?’

‘Oh…like…over there, gotta get a boat, you get me?’

‘I’d like to get you,’ Paula giggles, ‘is there a fee for crossing?’

‘Fee?’

‘Do you…say…need payment to get over there?’

‘I know’ Marcy says quickly, ‘we can swim there.’

‘Swim?’ Paula goes to walk past the lad but bumps into him slowly, ‘oh I’m so sorry,’ she beams, ‘oh you’re big,’ she blinks and stays close for a second.

‘I know,’ Marcy repeats, ‘we can swim there.’

‘You just said that,’ Paula turns and heads down the beach towards Marcy.

‘Did I?’ Marcy frowns and locks eyes on a young lad, ‘did I really?’

The lad nods quickly and goes to say something high pitched and inaudible, he clears his throat as Marcy reaches out to stroke his face, ‘you’re a cutie.’

‘Can’t,’ Paula announces, ‘got no swim suit.’

‘Pah!’ Marcy says, ‘don’t need our costumes…is the water warm?’ She asks the boy closest to her.

‘Think so,’ he nods quickly, ‘like…really warm.’

‘S’really warm,’ another boy says.

‘Oh,’ Marcy turns slowly, ‘in that case…would you mind?’ She presents her back to the same boy, ‘undo me.’

‘Eh?’

‘My zip…I can’t reach it.’

The boy blinks and looks at his mates who all nod urging him on. He swings the gun round onto his back and reaches up to pull the zip down.

‘Why thank you,’ Marcy purrs and shifts just enough for the dress to slip down to her ankles. In bra and knickers she reaches down, picks the garment up and hands it to the boy, ‘would you hold it for me? It’s Versace.’

Leaving the boy holding the dress she steps towards the sea, ‘hmmm,’ she stops and looks back, ‘are you coming now?’ She asks Paula.

‘Looks that way,’ Paula says in a tone slightly less drunk now. She slips her own dress off and tugs it down to reveal a slender body dressed in bra and knickers.

‘How about now?’ Marcy asks with a grin round at the boys, ‘look at you,’ she laughs, ‘catching flies.’

Her eyes fleeting look past the boys and straight to us and I realise not one of us has moved or made any effort to do anything other than stare in wonder.

A huge hand clamps on my wrist, ‘just a second,’ Clarence whispers but doesn't look at me.

‘You lucky bastard, Roy,’ Cookey groans softly.

‘Yeah,’ Roy sighs dreamily.

‘How about now?’ Marcy asks again, ‘I think we’re being stared at,’ she says to Paula.

‘Enjoy the show boys,’ Paula smiles.

‘Oh fuck, they mean us,’ I realise guiltily, ‘come on.’

‘Now?’ Cookey whispers, ‘really?’

‘Five more minutes,’ Blowers says.

‘Now,’ I nod frantically.

‘Let them get in the water,’ Cookey pleads.

‘Now, Cookey.’

We start snaking forward, pushing through whatever gaps we can find. The blood thunders through my ears, blotting out the soft conversations on the beach ahead of us. From my position I can see Marcy glancing at the figures moving across the road. She suddenly grins and says something to keep the attention on her and Paula.

Paula rallies and they both start inviting the lads to join them for a swim. Beckoning and teasing and the whole lot of teenage boys take a step towards the women.

On the tarmac on our bellies and it takes forever to close that gap down. No weapons. No guns, nothing. Dave has more than likely pilfered a knife or two from the kitchen.

Halfway across and I hear a sudden commotion and look down to see Nick struggling to stay low while stopping the dog from bounding ahead. She knows Paula is there and is clearly desperate to break free. She wriggles and writhes, yanking her head back from Nick’s grip on the thick fur of her neck.

I shoot a glance down and lock eyes briefly with Marcy. She gives an almost imperceptible nod and suddenly reaches behind towards the clasp on her bra.

‘It’s stuck!’ She laughs.

‘Topless?’ Paula asks with a laugh, ‘are we going topless?’

‘I think so,’ Marcy grins at Paula, ‘give these nice young men a treat.’

Meredith whines, Nick grips her harder but she’s too big and too strong. She knows Paula. She knows Marcy and she doesn't understand why she can’t go to them and staying quiet and hiding is clearly not her way of doing things.

We start to rise, all of us. Meredith is giving us away and we need to close that gap. Paula glances to the boys staring at her then quickly beyond to us and what must be the clear view of Nick and now Blowers struggling to contain Meredith.

‘A treat,’ Paula nods, ‘why not,’ she reaches behind, unclasps her bra and pulls it free in an act of sacrifice to keep all eyes on her and Marcy.

None of us notice, and if we do we don’t pay any attention as we do our best to get across the road and onto the sand. Meredith whines again, agitated and getting annoyed at being restrained.

Marcy unclasps her bra and suddenly throws it into the air with a whoop. Both of them topless and I notice the young lads all take another step forward. The sight of naked bodies and boobs is too much for them. A hungry lust and a pack desire to take what they want.

‘Take your knickers off,’ one youth, bolder than the others breaks the silence with the sudden order.

‘Boys!’ Marcy says as though shocked.

‘Off,’ the lad moves towards them, ‘get ‘em off…’

‘Now now,’ Paula says jokingly.

‘Shut your mouth, bitch,’ the boy speaks without humour and lunges towards Paula as all hell breaks loose.

I nod at Nick and Blowers and they release their grip on Meredith who bursts away and streaks towards Paula.

We start running silently onto the soft sand as the teenage boy grabs Paula by the arm and reaches out with his other hand at her boobs. She reacts from instinct and slams a fist into his nose. He reels back as the others all surge forward shouting loudly.

Both the women move back towards the sea as the crew chief runs ahead towards Paula as he brings his weapon round to the front.

‘Fuckin’ stay there,’ he shouts and lifts the weapon to take aim a split second before being ripped from his feet as Meredith slams into him from behind.

Full speed sprinting and we push as fast as we can. Dave and Roy faster than us as they soar ahead.

The crew chief is killed instantly as Meredith rips his throat out. A tearing sound and she bounds away, twisting to identify the next target.

Guns are pulled forward and fumbled as panic sweeps the lads. Shouts and chaos as Meredith sinks her teeth into the already bleeding face of the one Paula hit. He goes crashing down from the weight of the animal and her gnashing teeth savaging his head.

Dave is there. Into the first one at the back and he simply grabs the first head, snaps the neck and moves off. Roy plunders through them. Punching and shoving in desperation to keep them wild and unfocussed.

A shot goes off and the rest of us sweep into the fray. Punching, kicking and moving fast. Clarence hits hard, knocking teenage boys out cold. The crew panic, screaming with shouts and yells of pain. Some try and fight back but we’ve already won. Marcy and Paula don’t hesitate but dive in.

‘STOP OR YOU WILL DIE,’ Dave’s voice roars into the night and brings the fight to a sudden end. An assault rifle in his hands and he holds it straight and true.

‘GUNS DOWN,’ I give the order to the crew and watch as those still standing drop their weapons.

‘Get dressed,’ I call over to Marcy and Paula while snatching an assault rifle up off the ground, ‘if any of you move we will kill you.’

Several are dead. Either from Meredith shredding them or having their necks snapped by Dave. One lies with his head over at an unnatural angle from the single almighty punch delivered by Clarence. I step in front of the body to shield it from the big man and the inevitable attack of remorse he’ll suffer.

‘Did you have a nice time?’ Paula seethes with anger while she holds the dress in front of her naked body.

‘Nice time?’ I ask, confused at her meaning.

‘How bloody long does it take to cross a road?’

‘Sorry,’ I shrug with a pang of guilt knowing we all got caught up in the view.

‘Where’s Reggie?’ Marcy asks with a pained look round at the dead bodies and the mangled remains of the ones Meredith killed.

‘Back there probably,’ I motion back across the road, ‘was he the crew chief?’ I ask the group of lads staring dumbstruck at me, ‘him?’ I nod towards the body seeping dark blood onto the sand, ‘was he the crew chief?’

A few nods and murmurs of affirmation as they take in their situation.

‘Radio?’ I ask and watch as they look to the dead crew chief and the radio fixed to his belt. I head over and pick it up. A squat black thing with a stubby antenna. ‘I’m going to ask a question now and if anyone lies to me I will set that bloody dog on the lot of you, are we clear? Good. Does Maddox know we got out?’

Head shake, too many at once for them to be lying.

‘What was the last transmission from him?’ They stay quiet, too afraid to speak.

‘You,’ I point to the closest one, ‘what was the last transmission?’

‘The what?’

‘Transmission. What was the last thing Maddox said on the radio?’

‘Nuffin, just…just said we had to stay awake innit. Swear down, that’s wot he said.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘Er…’

‘Few hours,’ another one answers.

I glance at Clarence who shrugs and shakes his head as though saying he doesn't know.

‘What we doing with this lot?’ He asks, ‘can’t leave them here.’

‘I’m thinking,’ I reply slowly.

‘There’s a boat yard back there,’ Marcy walks over doing the same as Paula and holding her dress to cover her body, ‘it’s secure.’

‘Secure enough for this lot?’

‘Boat yards have rope,’ Nick calls out, ‘we can tie them up.’

‘Blowers, you Nick and Cookey take this lot…take the dog with you in case any of them try and run.’

‘Reggie?’ Marcy calls out, ‘you can come down now.’

‘Are you decent?’ His voice replies immediately, ‘My eyes have been closed since you…’

‘Yes,’ Marcy sighs, ‘bring the clothes.’

He pops up from behind the hedge and carefully opens the gate before walking down with a bundle of clothes under each arm, ‘is it safe?’

‘Yes,’ I call over.

‘I say that was a nerve shredding display of…well I don’t know what to call it,’ he blusters pointedly, ‘really I was terrified you’d be caught out but I must say I have not seen a performance quite like it before.’

‘Never been to a strip club then?’ Nick asks politely.

‘I have not!’ Reginald says with a huff, ‘never in my life and nor would I. Demeaning and thoroughly inappropriate places of…’

‘Yes yes,’ Marcy cuts him off, ‘where can we get changed?’

‘Saxon?’ I reply. Paula shoots a look of thunder at each and every one of us before storming off with Marcy in her wake.

‘Worked though,’ Marcy smiles wryly at me as she draws level, ‘shame,’ she stops and glances back at the dead bodies.

‘No way round it,’ I reply quietly.

‘I know but they’re so young,’ she winces, ‘just boys.’

The remaining crew members are shepherded past with the three lads keeping a close eye.

‘Where is it?’ Blowers asks.

‘Just before the houses,’ Marcy replies, ‘you can’t miss it. The door is only pushed closed.’

‘Cheers, Marcy,’ he nods as they walk past and the simple interaction isn’t lost on me. So normal, like he’s talking to any member of our team.

‘Boys yes,’ I say once they’re out of earshot, ‘but they were coming after you and Paula.’

‘You know,’ she lowers her voice and slips the sunglasses off, ‘for a second I was actually scared…’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘The looks on their faces,’ she shudders, ‘you couldn’t see but they just changed, in an instant.’

We lapse into silence while I feel like a complete prick for watching the way I did. The way we all did. Men watching women. Men watching women get undressed.

‘Sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘I was watching,’ I admit darkly.

She snorts humourlessly, ‘you’re a man.’

‘Yeah but…’

‘No buts, Howie. And anyway,’ she flashes me a quick smile, ‘I would have watched you.’

‘Yeah,’ I feel the blush creeping up my face as I smile, ‘you better get dressed.’

‘Hmm, suppose so,’ and she’s off, walking towards the Saxon and I have to use every ounce of strength not to turn round and look. Control. Have control. I am not an animal. I am an adult with control. I will not look. She is only wearing knickers and walking away. I will not look.

‘You alright?’ Clarence asks me with a strange look.

‘Fine,’ I cough, ‘you got a smoke?’

‘I don’t smoke, boss. Nick smokes. I’m Clarence.’

Eighteen

‘Mo Mo.’

Mohammed looks across the crowd trying to identify the speaker.

‘Mo Mo.’

Directional now, the sound uttered by a mouth and his ears pinpoint the area while his eyes scan the sullen faces until he finds one looking up expectantly.

‘What?’ He inclines his head with a sharp gesture at Carl.

‘My knees hurt,’ Carl says, ‘can I move, bro?’

‘On your arse but keep your hands on your head.’

‘Cheers, bro.’

‘Mine hurt too.’

‘And mine, can I move?’

‘Mo Mo, what’s gonna happen?’

‘You number one now, Mo Mo?’

Mo Mo stares dispassionately at the sea of faces as the verbal flood gates open. Hours of silence with not a sound uttered but the feeling of instant danger has waned and they know Mo Mo and Jagger. The two lads are part of their group, their crews. They were from the compound run by the Bossman and yeah, they’re up there now holding weapons but it’s still Mo Mo and Jagger.

The older crew chiefs and Lenski can see the difference in the two lads. The way they move and watch, always watching, always scanning. The way they stand with legs planted apart and the way they hold their weapons, emulating Blowers, Nick, Cookey, Clarence and their new team.

They can detect the subtle changes in the way they speak too. The dropping of the slang expressions as they sub-consciously adapt to fit in with the new team, and more, they see the battle hardened expressions from two lads who have fought overwhelming odds and given death yet have walked away. Hard expressions on their faces but different from the hard expressions of the youths from the compound. Less sullen. Less resentful. Older.

‘Be quiet,’ Jagger says from a few metres away.

‘Why you on their side?’

‘You’s not with us now, Jagger?’

‘No,’ the reply is given instantly and in a hard tone that stops the youths in their tracks. Silence follows. Drawn out and only broken by the nightmare driven wail of someone crying out in their sleep.

‘Can I be on your crew?’ A small voice speaks out and again the flood gates open as the voices sweep across the fort with pledges of loyalty to the new gang.

‘Enough,’ Lani strides from the armoury, bare foot and dressed in simple jeans and a t shirt, ‘they might not kill you but I will…I don’t want to hear another sound.’

In truth, Lani knows she couldn’t shoot anyone in cold blood now. The anger has subsided enough for rational thought to seep back in. Regret, guilt and the cold hand of remorse grips her stomach at the death she has already inflicted. It was necessary at the time but that time has passed and now she can see them for what they are, children. Young children as frightened and desperate as everyone else but without the knowledge and experience of life to guide them.

What the hell do they do with them? She glances down to the main gate and the hopeful prospect that Howie will come bursting through and be able to sort this out. He’ll know what to do. He always knows what to do.

A frown crosses her face, a scowl at the thought that he’ll have gone to Marcy. The idea that the team would have got caught in the tunnel doesn't cross her mind. The energy between them, the power they radiate, the effervescence of keeping each other alive.

They will have to deal with the crew on the beach, get the boats then get across. But they’ll also be thinking that Maddox is still in control so they’ll be doing everything covertly whereas they could just stroll right in now.

‘Radio,’ she says quickly, ‘Who has a radio?’

‘Radio?’ Mo Mo asks, ‘what for?’

‘Howie will go through the crew on the beach…if we can contact him…actually no, bad idea. If we tip the crew off they’ll be even more alert.’

‘Nice idea though,’ Jagger says, ‘but they’d get suspicious as fuck if it weren’t Maddox or Darius talking.’

‘Yeah,’ Lani nods and slips back into thoughtful silence and the problem of what to do with a big bunch of kids that know how to use guns.

‘Lani? Maddox?’

‘Who’s that?’ Mo Mo turns towards the far end of the fort, rifle raised as Lani peers into the darkness and the figure tentatively moving towards them.

‘Don’t know,’ she says quietly, ‘WHO IS THAT?’

‘Doctor Carlton…is that Lani?’

‘It is…come forward but keep your hands in sight and away from your body.’

‘You won’t shoot me will you?’

‘I have no intention of shooting anyone if they follow the instructions given,’ Lani states with a glare at the youths and Lenski.

Anne Carlton walks slowly with her hands held out from her sides, dressed in a white lab coat that serves as a visual aid as to her position of medical doctor and non-combatant.

‘Christ,’ she stares at the youths all seated with hands interlocked on their heads and the bodies lying still within the pools of blood. ‘What happened?’

‘You know what happened,’ Lani replies in a tone that doesn't encourage stupid questions, ‘I was tazered and sedated against my will while Howie and the others were locked in their rooms after…’

‘I was against it,’ Anne says quickly, ‘firmly against it.’

‘Done now,’ Lani shrugs and scans the crowd, ‘I hurt the other two doctors, they okay?’

‘Two broken noses and the young lad is a bit concussed…they’ll live.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Lani says without a hint of apology in her voice.

‘So am I,’ Anne looks round again and sighs deeply, ‘where’s Howie now?’

‘Gone.’

‘Gone? Gone where?’

‘They got out,’ Lani says simply, not wanting to reveal the exact details in front of everyone else, ‘they’ll be back.’

‘Maddox? Darius? Where are they?’

‘I killed Darius,’ Lani says with a defiant look at the doctor, ‘Maddox is lying over there somewhere in his own shit and piss.’

‘What?’ Anne says hardly believing the turn of events.

‘I shot Darius,’ Lani replies, ‘and some others…Maddox was tazered…about eight times until he shit himself and passed out.’

‘Jesus, Lani.’

‘Jesus my backside,’ Lani snaps, ‘I didn’t see that reaction when he tazered me or when you stuck the needle in…’

‘I did not sedate you. I refused to have a part in it. Where is he?’

‘Maddox? Over there towards the back.’

‘Can I check him, please?’

‘Go for your life but do nothing without saying so first…’

‘I understand,’ Anne nods quickly while threading through the young people. She spots the prone form of Maddox and seconds later detects the smell of faeces. She drops down, pressing a hand gently to the side of his neck, ‘he’s alive,’ she calls out.

‘He was only tazered,’ Lani replies.

‘Enough times to kill him.’

‘He tazered me first and be thankful I didn’t shoot him…which is still an option.’

‘An option? To execute someone?’

‘The same options he was discussing with us.’

‘Which makes you as bad as he…when does it end?’

‘It ends when bad people stop being pricks…If I hadn’t of taken action he would have killed Howie. Or, he would have considered killing them.’

‘They’re gone,’ Anne says hotly, ‘Howie is gone and therefore the risk.’

‘Maddox didn’t know he’d gone, or if he did then he only just found out. Either way I’m not risking the lives of the people who gained this fort for anyone.’

‘You know,’ Anne says firmly, ‘there is always the existing possibility that you are infected.’

‘I probably am,’ Lani replies quickly, ‘and I turned but I came back. Cookey was bitten right in front of us and he didn’t turn. Do you know how Howie found out he was immune?’

She doesn't wait for the reply but pushes on, ‘he had a human heart pushed in his mouth. A still beating infected human heart…during a fight that we went back to in order to save all of these people.’

‘There has been too much death here,’ Anne shakes her head sadly, ‘it has to end.’

‘What do we do now then?’ Lani asks, ‘give me the solution.’

‘Now?’

‘With this lot?’ Lani motions at the youths with the point of her rifle, ‘what do we do with them? We can’t just let them go but they can’t stay where they are.’

‘Let them go,’ Anne says with a shrug, ‘you’ve got their weapons…’

‘Three of us against a group this size? Still loyal to Maddox and Lenski? No way.’

Voices break out pledging loyalty to Howie, Mo Mo and everyone else besides Maddox. Other voices argue defiantly, telling the turncoats to shut up.

‘ENOUGH,’ Lani shouts, ‘see what I mean? We let them in and now look…we’ve got a shit load of bloody kids to worry about and what’s more, they’re kids that know how to use guns and kill people.’

Anne falters and looks round with desperation as the realisation of the situation unfolds in front of her eyes. She can see the dire consequences of what could happen if these children were just let go. Their propensity for violence will provoke them into an act of retribution which will result in more deaths, more bloodshed. But to leave them here, sitting quietly with their thin arms raised up like prisoners of war. That isn’t right either.

‘They need food and water,’ Anne says, ‘leaving them like this is unacceptable.’

‘That’s fine, but they eat and drink where they are until Howie comes back.’

‘Will he come back?’ Anne asks, ‘how can you be so sure?’

‘Because there is no way on the face of this planet that Howie…or any of my team for that matter, would leave someone behind. More than that,’ Lani speaks low but clear as she takes a step towards Anne as though to emphasise her point, ‘even if Howie died…if they all died bar one…that one remaining would come back or die trying…I’d do it, Nick would do it, Cookey and the rest…and that,’ she snaps the word out with a glare at the children around her, ‘is loyalty. You know your mates will come back because that’s what you’d do for them. You fight for them. You’d die for them. You give everything you are and know they give it back. It isn’t about wearing black clothes and looking hard with a gun. You do it without guns. Without weapons and you do it until your hands are bloody and your legs can’t take another step. All of you look at Mo Mo and Jagger. Go on…look,’ she paces through the crowd as they turn from looking at her to take in the solid forms holding steady at the front, ‘see them? See the way they stand? Without doubt. Without question. You do the right thing for the right reasons and you know what? If I started shooting you all now one by one…what do you think they would do?’

She pauses, letting the words sink in, ‘Mo Mo, what would you do?’

‘If you started shooting this lot one by one without a reason?’

‘Yep.’

‘I’d shoot you…and if I did it, Jagger would shoot me, you get me?’ He looks down at the faces.

‘You do the right thing for the right reasons,’ Lani repeats, ‘Mo Mo and Jagger didn’t take up their guns because I was in control and they wanted to pick the winning side. They could have both shot me by now and taken over…they do it because we have a way of doing things.’

‘The right thing for the right reasons,’ a young girl speaks out, no more than thirteen and the braces on her teeth glint in the orange light of the lanterns. For a second Lani stops and stares down, wondering who will know when to take the braces off and having a vision of the girl wearing them for the rest of her life.

‘Yes,’ Lani says with a tone made softer by the sadness of life and the knowledge that everything there was before is rapidly disappearing, ‘the right thing…for the right reasons.’

She trails off with a lingering look at the main gates and wishing the team were here right now.

Nineteen

‘That’s a bit shit then,’ I say heavily as we stare out at the almost perfectly flat water between us and the fort.

‘A flaw in an otherwise cunningly perfect plan,’ Cookey says, ‘we subdued the bad guys, got the guns and saved the girls and now…’

‘Pardon?’ Paula turns to fix a steady on him.

‘Saved the girls,’ Cookey repeats, ‘you and Marcy.’

‘Saved us? You were gawping at us more like.’

‘Gawping? It’s gawking isn’t it?’ Nick asks.

‘Definitely gawping,’ Cookey replies.

‘Sure? I always thought it was gawking.’

‘Gawking isn’t even a word,’ Blowers says.

‘Yeah it is, it’s…like…when you gawk.’

‘Gawk? You mean gawp…with a pee.’

‘I don’t need a pee,’ Cookey laughs.

‘Paula,’ Nick says, ‘is it gawp or gawk?’

‘Both.’

We all turn to stare down the long line at the edge of the sea at the dapper little man who turns and smiles happily.

‘Eh?’ Cookey asks.

‘The words mean the same thing, which is to stare rudely. Gawp and gawk.’

‘So I was right,’ Nick nods firmly.

‘And I was,’ Cookey says.

‘We are gawping now, and we are gawking…’ Reginald turns back to the sea, ‘we are gawping and gawking at the wide expanse of water that is devoid of a suitable vessel.’

‘What did he say?’ Cookey asks.

‘He said we don’t have any boats,’ Marcy says and looks at me, ‘which, as you say, is a bit shit.’

‘Bit shit,’ I nod.

‘Big shit,’ Clarence mutters.

‘Nah, just a bit shit,’ I say.

‘No boats,’ he motions ahead, ‘that’s more than a bit shit.’

‘Shall we radio Maddox and ask to send some over?’ I ask lightly, ‘who can do the best street voice?’

‘Swear down brother,’ Roy suddenly says in a perfect clipped tone of a BBC newsreader, ‘gis us some boats innit do you get me.’

Chuckles of laughter more at the unexpected outburst than the awful accent.

‘Roy can do it,’ Cookey says.

‘Yo Mads,’ Nick says, ‘we’s got some people here…you get me? Like…you know? Like…boats innit.’

‘Nah,’ Cookey says, ‘Mads, word up mofo…send thems boats over so’s we can get some schnizzle on our nizzles.’

‘What the fuck?’ Blowers snorts.

‘Ere Mads,’ Marcy goes next with near perfect execution of a teenage boy, ‘wassup? We needs the boats innit.’

‘Oh perfect,’ Cookey laughs in delight, ‘do it…oh you gotta do it.’

‘No,’ she smiles coyly, ‘he’d recognise the voice…or rather not recognise the voice.’

‘Oh do it,’ Cookey urges, ‘go on…oh you got to.’

‘Was bloody good,’ Blowers nods.

‘Where on earth did you learn that?’ Paula asks.

‘God knows,’ Marcy laughs.

‘Might work,’ I say and turn round to stare at the Saxon, ‘if we had some background noise…’

‘What if he asks who it is?’ Marcy asks with a laugh.

‘Bollocks, did we get any names?’ I ask the group who all shake heads and shrug.

‘Pretend it’s breaking up,’ Nick suggests, ‘we’ll make some radio cackling noises.’

‘No way,’ Marcy shakes her head, ‘you’re seriously thinking of asking them to send the boats over?’

‘Easiest way,’ I shrug, ‘no other boats round here and we ain’t swimming that far.’

‘Probably get sucked down into that tunnel too,’ Cookey says, ‘what?’ He asks when everyone looks at him, ‘might happen.’

‘Well,’ Paula says with a grim smile, ‘the last plan was utterly shit but it worked, so why not?’

‘Try it again,’ I urge Marcy with a smile.

‘I can’t,’ she laughs, ‘I’m on the spot now.’

‘Go Marcy…Go Marcy,’ Cookey chants.

‘Ere Mads,’ she squawks, ‘gis the boats innit, got survivors ‘ere.’

‘Perfect,’ I say with a grin, ‘we’ll give it a go.’

‘Howie,’ Marcy shakes her head laughing, ‘no…seriously no…’

‘Decision made, who’s got the radio?’

‘You have, Mr Howie.’

‘Thanks, Dave…right…Nick, get the Saxon fired up and we’ll get Marcy next to the engine so it’s noisy.’

‘What if he looks over?’ Roy asks, ‘we’ll have to make it look like we’ve got them sat in the back.’

‘We’ll do it,’ Cookey says, ‘we’ll stand at the back facing in, he’ll never see details from that far.’

‘Clarence will have to go out of sight,’ Paula says, ‘and give Reginald a gun.’

‘Me? A firearm? Good heavens no.’

‘You’re small,’ she says apologetically, ‘no offence but you’ll look right from a distance.’

‘Here,’ Clarence pops his magazine out before handing the weapon to Reginald.

‘Oh my, really? Gosh that’s heavy. I really don’t think I match the type to be holding a firearm.’

The scene is set quickly. Reginald, Dave and the lads at the back of the Saxon with the lads giving a nice slouch to reduce their height. Roy and Clarence, both taller and larger built get into the Saxon while I tuck myself up next to Marcy holding the radio like it’s a bomb about to go off.

‘This won’t work.’

‘It will,’ I urge her, ‘just keep your head close to the engine so the noise carries…you ready?’

‘Now?’ She asks aghast at the rush.

‘Yes, now…go on…press the button on the side and…’

‘I know how to use it.’

‘…Go on then.’

‘Oh this is…’ she shoots me a dark look which makes me notice her red eyes for the first time in ages. Clearing her throat she leans forward towards the radio then stops, shakes her head, grins and sighs audibly, ‘ere, Mads…you there bro?’

‘Bruv, they call each other bruv, not bro.’

‘Cookey said bro,’ she hisses at me, ‘Mad’s, bruv…you there…we’s need a boat innit.’

‘Oh perfect, fucking perfect,’ I say with a nod of admiration. We wait, staring at the handset as the seconds tick by.

‘Try again.’

‘Ere, Mads Bruv. You earing me? We’s need boats innit.’

Another pause while we wait but the radio remains silent.

‘Is it working?’ She asks me.

‘Should be, yeah the green light is on…’

‘Mads, Darius…we’s need boats ere…you earing me or wot?’

I suppress a snigger at the awful accent but the constant thudding of the big diesel engine blots the worst of it out. Still no response.

‘…up…who….’ The radio crackles to life but the words are distorted and broken.

‘Mads, it’s me innit…we’s need boats bruv,’ Marcy drops her voice out every few syllables to intentionally break the transmission.

‘…s’up? Innit….in…’

‘Mads, I ain’t getting’ ya? Boats! We’s need boats, Mads.’

‘…now…ues…wait…’

‘What’s he saying?’ I lean closer to the crackling comeback on the handset.

‘Can’t tell,’ she moves an inch or so closer, ‘something about wait? Waiting?’

‘…on…Darius…down…busy…’

‘Darius? Something down? I heard busy though,’ she whispers.

‘Me too,’ I glance up into her face which is about two inches from mine, the moon casting a glow on her skin that catches the breath in my throat. She blinks sudden and widens her eyes as though just as surprised at the close proximity. She speaks, says something and her lips move and sounds come out but I can’t tell what they are. Transfixed by her mouth and the flash of white teeth, the plump lips and the way they move to form the words.

‘Fuck,’ I shake my head to clear the fog.

‘Focus, Howie,’ she tuts with a smile, ‘your girlfriend remember.’

‘Yes!’ I snap more to myself than at her, ‘what the fuck is going on?’

‘We’re trying to get a boat to get to the fort so…’

‘No, between us,’ I whisper quickly.

She stares back with an almost imperceptible shrug, ‘I don’t know.’

‘I passed out,’ the words tumble from my mouth without control, ‘I had these dreams…’

She locks eyes like Meredith staring at Reginald, unblinking and focussed, ‘go on.’

‘Some old man in a tube station and…then I saw all of them…in the munitions factory and…then I was in this street with a horde all stood in perfect rows…’

‘And you attacked them,’ she blurts, ‘to get to me.’

I nod, the breath trapped in my throat.

‘And we spoke,’ she continues in a rush of warm air against my cheek, ‘you didn’t want to go back but…’

‘You told me..’ I swallow and blink hard, ‘you said…’

‘One would be bitten and I said Lani was at the rear holding them back. She was on her own…Howie, how did I know that?’

‘You said something else, do you remember?’

She nods, too pained or scared to speak, too worried about the consequences of admitting we shared a vision.

‘About Lani, you said…’

‘Lani was torn…’

‘Fuck, Marcy…’

‘And we kissed,’ she says suddenly, ‘right before I woke up…’

‘Did you slap me?’

‘Slap you? No I did not.’

‘Oh, must have been Dave then.’

‘Dave slapped you?’

‘Someone slapped me, I thought it was you but apparently not.’

‘I don’t think I slapped you,’ she thinks for a second, ‘I kissed you but no…no I don’t remember slapping you.’

‘Bloody hurt,’ I say earnestly.

‘Aw did the bad man slap you?’

‘Don’t take the piss, it really hurt.’

‘Be thankful it wasn’t me.’

‘I can’t imagine you’d slap harder than Dave, Marcy.’

‘Want to test it?’

‘You want to slap me?’

‘Actually yes, yes I do.’

‘Why?’

‘For being such an annoying prick.’

‘Eh? That’s a bit harsh.’

‘Like my life hasn’t been turned upside down since meeting you.’

‘Do what? Darren did that. Darren? Remember him? He was your boyfriend who tried to kill us…’

‘That was then,’ she shrugs it off, ‘before.’

‘Before what?’

‘Before I met you.’

‘And then you tried to kill me again!’

‘I did not. I bloody saved you.’

‘Yeah you saved me then got me drunk and tried to seduce me!’

‘No, oh no…I was upset and you were the one pawing at me.’

‘Pawing? I did not paw a bloody thing.’

‘You so did,’ she hisses, ‘and I came to you for help.’

‘Fucking what? That wasn’t help. That was luring, Marcy. You lured us. Your infected rancid girls tried to…to do luring to the lads.’

‘Lure, you idiot. You don’t do luring, you lure.’

‘Whatever, you sound like Reggie now. You tried to infect me with your sex! Then we had to kill everyone again and then we found Lani tied up in the toilets and then…’

‘And then and then,’ she mocks me spitefully, ‘you think you’re the only one suffering here?’

‘No and…’

‘And I didn’t exactly see you trying to stop it.’

‘Stop what?’

‘The sex, the bloody sex. You weren’t exactly trying to stop it.’

‘You were pumping out pheromones!’

‘Was I?’

‘Yes. Bloody yes, the lads succumbed to it…even Clarence and…’

‘Well, yes,’ she admits reluctantly, ‘there may have been things happening beyond my control…’

‘May? Just a tad.’

She leans in with a furious look, ‘you and I both know it would have happened with or without the bloody pheromones.’

‘Get off.’

‘Really? Where were your pheromones then? Was the infection making you pump stuff out too?’

‘Eh?’

‘I was attracted to you just as much as you were to me.’

‘Yes because of the bloody pheromones or the bloody chemicals making you turned on.’

‘Oh like when we first met? And then in the fort after and then in the bloody street a little while ago…and of course it was the pheromones making you dream of me and it was the pheromones that had me waiting at the bloody window hoping you’d come for days on end…’

‘…Really? You did that?’

‘Yes,’ she snaps and glares but the harshness fades as quickly as it came, ‘yes,’ she says softer, ‘yes I did.’

‘I was coming,’ I say quickly, ‘I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…’

‘Why?’ She shifts position easing the pressure from her right hand holding the radio that was wedged between her and the vehicle.

‘I don’t know. I figured you’d have some answers.’

‘No,’ she shakes her head sadly, ‘just more questions.’

‘There’s something between us, between all of us…between me and you and all of us…this…Lani, me…all of us…something we’re all in together.’

‘Fix it then.’

‘Oh fuck off, you sound like Dave saying that.’

‘You,’ she prods me in the chest, ‘are the key around which everything else is built. You know that. You’re team knows that.’

‘I worked in Tesco,’ I say wildly, ‘and I do not have a fucking clue what I am doing.’

‘And you think anyone else does?’

‘No but…’

‘Whatever it is driving you, you have to go with it. If your instinct tells you to do something then do it. Lead, Howie. You lead and we all follow.’

‘We?’

‘Yes, we. I’m part of this now as much as you. The…infection, disease…virus…whatever it is has drawn back…I don’t feel it…I get hungry and thirsty for normal food and water…I sleep and wake up, I sweat and make body odour…I had my period for God’s sake.’

‘Drawn back?’

‘Gone, receded, faded…’

‘But your eyes.’

She shrugs and gestures as though knowing as much as I do.

‘Did you feel it draw back?’

‘No, no I didn’t,’ she says, ‘after the fort I got away with Reggie and…I don’t remember that much, I was so tired…exhausted to the bone and I think I slept forever…when I woke up I wasn’t like I was before.’

‘S’fucked up,’ I incline my head.

‘Telling me,’ she says with a sad smile, ‘Lani…we’ve got get Lani.’

‘Yeah, yeah we have.’

We hold position, static, non-moving. Neither willing to pull away from the cocoon of being nestled comfortingly by the thrumming engine of the Saxon and the sudden privacy gifted to us. A moment in time. A shared bond and a desire that we felt before. Both of us longing to do it, to lean in, to let our lips touch for just one fleeting brushing sensation of intimacy. My heart beats hard and a small piece of it breaks off at the sadness within the smile she gives me.

‘We can’t,’ she says so quietly the words are gone before they form, ‘Lani…we have to get Lani.’

I nod and with every will in my body I pull back and break the magic of the second we seized for ourselves.

‘It worked then?’ Cookey calls down.

‘What did?’ I turn to look out and see the boats drifting across the sea towards us.’

‘Oh,’ I look down at the radio tucked in Marcy’s hand held in place while we talked and edged ever closer, ‘at least something is going right for once.’

Nineteen

Silence. Utter and complete. Nobody speaks. Nobody dares speak. The atmosphere thick and charged. Mo Mo and Jagger cast worried glances at each other then back at the frozen figure of Lani.

‘Lilly,’ Mo Mo calls to the girl without taking his eyes off the woman, ‘can you take the boats over?’

‘I er,’ Lilly hesitates, wanting to say she doesn't know how but senses the need to move quickly, ‘of course,’ she rushes off towards the front, walking, then jogging then all out sprinting as the urgency lifts the rising panic.

Through the gate, across the middle section and out onto the beach she goes. The lead boat is nose in towards the beach with a long rope attached to a metal shaft hammered into the soil. A simple action of untying the rope and wading out into the shallows before clambering over the side.

At the back she stares down at the small outboard engine. She’s seen this done many times, on television, movies and in real life too. You pull the rope and the engine starts. No wait. Isn’t there always a switch or button to press before you pull the rope? Using just the moonlight she feels the top of the engine and down the sides until she fingers a broad dial with two preset positions. On and Off. She can’t see the words but it makes sense to have an on and an off. She moves the dial, grasps the spoke fitted to the end of the pull cord and yanks it back.

The engine starts first time, a cough, splutter and it thrums down into a steady beat and the immediate air fills with the stench of fuel. How do you drive it? Where’s the accelerator? The person always stands at the back with their hand on the handle. She copies the action, standing with her back to the engine and one hand gripping the end that turns, and when it turns the engine changes beat and the water behind the boat churns. Motion is generated and the boat goes forward. She pulls the handle towards her and shakes her head. Shouldn’t the boat turn?

It does turn but the slow speed makes the directional change just as slow. Okay, she nods and while keeping the rudder hard over she gently twists the grip and waits as the propeller increases in pitch and tone as it bites into the water. The turn comes faster and she watches as the front end turns slowly round to face away from the beach in front of the fort.

She turns, checking the rear view and noticing the rope pulling taut as it flexes to take the strain of pulling the boat behind her, then the next and the next after that. If she changes the direction now those boats might impact on the beach. She keeps the rudder pulled over and moves gently out to sea until the last boat is clear of the shore before manoeuvring to aim towards the curvature of the bay and the solid form of the Saxon.

Intelligence and a clear head sees Lilly undertake an action previously unknown to her. Rational thought and a process of understanding and being able to recall the memories and stored knowledge that will assist with the situation at hand.

Gut punching emotion fogs a clear head and Lani reels from that gut punch. A sinking sensation of the ground opening up. Of her heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and her world crashing to an end. A desperation to reach out and take it back. A burning desire to take back the words she heard. Not an escalation of events that starts with a suspicion and unfolds with tentative caution but sudden. Jarring. Cheated. Sordid. Filth and disgust.

Her hands grip the assault rifle. Still nobody dares speak. No movement. Not a cough or a shift of position. Not a head moves but the eyes remain fixed for the words that blurted out from the radio held in Mo Mo hands were clear to all.

Like my life hasn’t been turned upside down since meeting you.

Her eyes narrow then widen. Nostrils flare wide and the vein in her head throbs with pressure.

No, oh no…I was upset and you were the one pawing at me.

Words that sang clear in the night air of the fort. The street accent given by Marcy matched by an intentionally broken transmission returned by Mo Mo as neither side wished the other to know what was going on.

The sex, the bloody sex. You weren’t exactly trying to stop it.

Howie said they never had sex. He said it. He promised it. He swore and looked her right in the eyes when he made that promise. Here, in this fort. In this place that she fought and died for. She died and was turned and came back only to die again now as her heart breaks and the blood in her veins turns cold as ice.

…you and I both know it would have happened with or without the bloody pheromones.

Tears form in the back of her eyes but they don’t fall. They stay glistening in the whites that reflect the orange glow of the lanterns. A connection is made and those glistening eyes flick to the lanterns with the knowledge they are the same lights that Howie and Marcy made love under. Here, in this fort. In this place that she fought and died for.

I was attracted to you just as much as you were to me.

The crackle of the radio and the steady beat of the Saxon only made it worse. Like an old record, scratchy and worn out but the music remains the same. She could feel the heat between them as the words were spoken. She could see in her mind how close they were standing, inches apart, lingering with eye contact and energy that sparked and fizzed.

She turns slowly, not realising she moves. Her eyes scan the crowd from a habit ingrained after spending days of her life defending her team by always watching, always scanning. A team that cheated her. A team that knew Howie was in love with Marcy. A team that knew Howie and Marcy had made love.

The thought of it only multiplies the level of deceit and with it the hurt inside ramps up until her throat constricts with physical pain. She wants to weep. Break down here and weep but there’s still a job to do and you do the right thing for the right reasons. You stand by your mates because…because they stand by you…But they didn’t stand by her. They left her to die.

In the toilets taped, bound and gagged while Howie fucked Marcy. They left her then. But no. It was pheromones. The infection manipulating the chemicals within the body.

…you and I both know it would have happened with or without the bloody pheromones.

The gut punch comes again. Rational thought is attempted and tried yet thwarted at every turn by words uttered and broadcast for all to hear.

They left her to die in the munitions factory. They held the side door as a team while she took the rear alone. They left her. Abandoned. They knew. They all knew Howie fucked Marcy and Howie was in love with Marcy. Lani had become a problem and the solution was for her to be killed, taken, turned and destroyed.

‘Do not look at me,’ she explodes with an eruption of violence at the young face staring up. The tone and temper of her voice snaps the head down as sudden tears of fear fall to roll down the young cheeks.

A reject. Worthless and cheated. She should have stayed on the Isle of Wight. Stayed in the shadows of the place she was hiding.

‘LOOK DOWN,’ she roars at the heads below her.

Howie fucked Marcy. Howie is in love with Marcy.

…and of course it was the pheromones making you dream of me and it was the pheromones that had me waiting at the bloody window hoping you’d come for days on end…

Marcy is stunning beyond compare. A rare and radiant beauty with a figure to bring men to their knees. Pledging her love for Howie. Telling him she was waiting. Telling him she dreamt of him. No man could deny that. What am I? Who am I? The words burn and sear into her mind.

‘DO NOT LOOK AT ME,’ she stabs the end of the rifle into the back of a young head, driving it into the ground.

‘Lani,’ Mo Mo steps forward.

‘STAND DOWN,’ her rifle is up and aimed, locked on Mo Mo.

This filthy place full of death and deceit. Tazered and injected with drugs. Taken from her home. Following a man around the country who she loves. Loved. But he never loved her back. They never had sex. Howie was tired, exhausted from battles but he fucked Marcy on the night she died.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

Her breath quavers, slow and unsteady as her mind that fractures as quickly as her heart. Vision closing in yet everything is suddenly so much clearer now. Everything is perfectly clear.

Howie loves Marcy. This was always about Howie and Marcy. Not Howie and Lani. Marcy. The rancid infected whore that killed and took lives as quickly as she took the love of the man she adores. A thieving, stealing, cheating filthy bitch who looks like a million dollars. A woman who sways with sexuality. Her lips are full and plump, her eyes heavy with naturally thick lashes, her skin a golden hue of perfection. Lani is lithe and fast. Athletic and flexible but she can never hope to match the raw sexuality of Marcy. Marcy wants and Marcy gets. Marcy takes and Howie gives.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

She followed Howie through thick and thin. When he was taken in the car park she fought through them and would have given her life for him to live. In the munitions factory she held the line while all was lost. She knew she would never walk away and as her gun clicked empty and her blade was taken up she did it for the man that lay unconscious in the far end dreaming of Marcy.

The whole of them. All of them. The team turned against her. The team don’t want her. They love Marcy. They want Marcy.

‘Lani,’ she fires without thinking and sends the round slamming through Jagger’s heart, killing him instantly. Blown back off his feet to slump down in a crumpled bleeding heap. Mo Mo turns to see his friend shot down. His own reactions too slow, like wading through mud and it’s that reaction that saves his life. The complete stunning of his senses that prevents him from bringing his assault rifle up to bear.

‘Jagger,’ he mumbles the word, frozen, rooted to the spot, ‘mate,’ he steps drunkenly towards the body, ‘mate,’ his voice catches with raw emotion, ‘Jagger…mate…’ the assault rifle falls from his grasp as he drops down to lift the head of his best friend, ‘Jag, mate…fuck’s sake…wake up, bro…’

Lani’s head drops and she stares up and out at the sight of the pain given. A sickening sense of righteous deliverance that someone else should suffer now.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

She turns back to the crowd that stare in horror at the sight of Mo Mo down and cradling Jagger’s dead body as he weeps tears onto the face of the person he loved most of all.

‘He was going to her,’ Lani mumbles, ‘going to her…going to her….GOING TO HER,’ she screams the words into the air and drops with lightning speed to stare deep into the eyes of a child that whimpers with a jet of piss released by the fear gripping his stomach.

‘He was going to her,’ Lani whispers to the child, ‘he was going to her,’ she smiles warmly with kindness that shines from the depths of her soul, ‘are you okay?’ She asks so gently, like a mother. ‘I’m not okay,’ she says, ‘He was going to her,’ she nods urgently at the little boy, ‘funny, isn’t it?’

On her feet and she sways as the shock reduces the flow of oxygen to her brain. Blood pressure plummeting, blood sugar dropping just as fast. Rational thought gone. The ability to think clearly disappeared.

Nothing matters. Nothing matters now. It’s all a pile of shit. Infected filthy shit that is tainted by the blackness of Marcy’s soul and the love Howie has for her.

‘…Jag…bro…’ Mo Mo grips his friend’s body as the tears fall freely from his eyes. The prodding in the back of his head gets progressively harder until he freezes with the sobs ending suddenly in his throat.

‘Get up,’ Lani says in a dangerously soft tone. Mo Mo sucks air in through his nose as the cold fury starts to rise, ‘get up,’ Lani kicks his weapon away and prods him harder in the back of his head, ‘did you know?’

‘Know what?’ Mo Mo rasps the words out.

‘About Howie and Marcy? You knew. You all knew.’

‘I will….’ His words are cut off as the butt of the rifle slams into the side of his head. Stars behind his eyes and a wave of nausea passes over him as he lies stunned on the ground.

Mo Mo forgotten and Lani strolls off. She kicks Jagger’s assault rifle deep into the shadows at the base of the wall then looks down to Mo Mo’s a few feet away. Idly she strolls towards it and starts shunting it towards the first of the children still on their knees.

‘Want it?’ She asks the closest, ‘go on? Pick it up.’

The child looks away in the only response possible that might avoid being shot dead. She kicks it again, scuttling it across the hard compacted earth deeper into the ranks of children.

‘Anyone?’ She asks lightly.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

‘SOMEONE PICK IT UP!’ Spittle flies from her mouth.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

They left her to die at the rear door. All of them at the side while she took the rear.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

It hurts. It hurts more than any physical pain she has endured so far. That she doesn't put the rifle into her mouth and pull the trigger is simply because she doesn't think to do it because the pain swells and grows with every passing second.

Howie and Marcy fucked while she was bound and gagged in the toilets. They fucked then lied about it. They fucked and blamed it on the pheromones.

The assault rifle slams into small bodies, kicked harder and harder but not one hand is even tempted to reach for it.

Lenski stares with wide eyes, desperate to do something but like everyone else she knows the consequences that any action will take.

Anne Carlton fled when Jagger was shot. Running back to the perceived safety of the hospital bay. Children remain on their knees while Mo Mo lies vomiting on the ground.

Lani boots the gun, screaming for someone to pick it up as the last tendrils of sense in her mind tell her there must be an action for her to have a reaction. She wants death now and the pain to be felt by everyone but no one will lift the gun up.

She freezes, head cocked to one side as the steady chugging of the boats comes into earshot. They’re coming back. She nods and smiles slowly with a grin that spreads across her face without any trace of humour.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

Lani stands still, the rifle held at waist height while she listens to the engines getting closer. The boats will beach. The team will get out and they will come home through those doors. Marcy and Howie coming home to the place they fucked in.

She cocks her head, still smiling as the first engine cuts out followed by the next. The rifle is brought up, pushed back into her shoulder and the index finger of her right hand touches the trigger. Aimed, steady and waiting.

Mo Mo rolls and blinks through the blurred vision to see Lani aimed and waiting. The noise of the boats ends but to shout a warning will mean Lani killing people here. His eyes flick to the assault rifle in the shadows over by the wall. To move in that direction will put him into her peripheral vision. The armoury. It’s the only chance. Crawl slowly and get close enough to grab a weapon from the armoury. On his belly and he starts shifting, willing Howie to stop and wait before bursting happily through the inner gate.

Maddox blinks. Snapped awake from the gunshot fired at Jagger. His body weak and pained from the multiple electric shocks delivered by the tazer. Lani stands just feet away. Her rifle raised and aimed at the inner gate. He heard the boats coming and knows something is wrong. Lani kicking the gun into the ranks of children, screaming for them to take it up. Jagger shot down. Mo Mo beaten down.

Movement to the side. He turns his head slowly to see one of the kneeling crew chiefs extending a leg to shove the assault rifle towards Maddox who gives a subtle nod in reply.

Mo Mo shuffles on his stomach, inch by inch as he imagines the terrible sight of Lani turning to fix that aim on his back. His head spins with waves of nausea that urge him to gag and puke.

Maddox stares at the rifle being nudged bit by tiny bit towards him.

Lani stands true and steady as a rock. Waiting.

Voices drift on the clear night air. The deep rumble of Clarence. The tones of Cookey. Female voices talking. Marcy.

I was coming to you, nothing would have kept me away from you…

The head injury threatens to pull Mo Mo back under but he bites down as the searing pain rolls round the back of his skull. Got to reach the armoury. Got to get there.

Maddox starts leaning, tiny increments of motion as his left hand starts moving out towards the barrel of the rifle. Eyes flicking between Lani and the weapon.

The sound of the outer gate being closed, the voices closer now.

Mo Mo has to stop and draw breath but the pause is for a second only and ever closer he snakes towards the doorway and the cache of weapons within.

Mo Mo fingers the tip of the barrel, leaning harder as the pain in his damaged muscles radiates around his body. Finger that flex to grip to draw the weapon closer. The crew chief dares another motion to punt the gun that bit closer. Maddox grips as his fingers clamp round the barrel and his eyes go wide.

The inner gate opens. The voices clear and distinct.

Lani tenses, the finger on the trigger exerting pressure as she readies to fire. She knows Dave will fire back and his aim never misses but two shots is all she wants. One for Howie and one for Marcy.

Mo Mo hears the inner gate and knows his movements have been too slow. His head snaps to the gate opening and the doorway of the armoury still feet away.

He sucks in a ragged breath and screams with everything he has left.

‘AMBUSH,’ the word bellows with a voice that breaks midway through the warning, and with a heave he lunges for the doorway.

Maddox snaps onto his back with the weapon being pulled fluidly across his body, left hand on the barrel and his right hand already moving towards the trigger as Lani twitches at the warning given by Mo Mo, she fires into the shadows of the armoury doorway. Maddox roars with the pain of moving but pulls the trigger to fire into the space where Lani was as her quick reactions have her dropping to the ground.

Mo Mo bursts out with a rifle up and ready. Lani fires, one shot, two shots. As one the gathered children burst to their feet with the chance of escape. Mo Mo paces out with his assault rifle held up and aimed, tracking the chaos of movement with a desperation to see Lani.

Another shot and a child is sent bowling off to the side. Maddox screaming for them to run. Lani screaming for Howie.

Movement from the gate as Howie and his team burst through, guns up and aimed. Chaos meets their eyes of a fort exploding with movement and motion. Children running in all directions. Maddox stalking through them with his gun raised. Mo Mo across the way heading towards Maddox. Lani, glimpsed through the streaming ranks of children running.

Shots fired. Maddox, Mo Mo, Lani. All of them firing.

‘HOLD,’ Howie gives the order. The account of Lani given by Lilly as they made their way in the boats. That Maddox was down but Mo Mo and Jagger were on Lani’s side.

‘AMBUSH…’ Mo Mo’s voice carries through the chaos, ‘LANI…SHOOT LANI…’

The team spread instantly into a line. Weapons up and aimed. No faltering steps and as one they pace into the confusing fray. Meredith bounding ahead but for once even she has no idea who to attack.

‘LANI?’ Howie shouts.

‘EVERYONE GET DOWN,’ Maddox’s voice booms the order out, ‘DOWN NOW…DOWN DOWN DOWN…’

Children drop where they are, ingrained to instantly obey the voice of their leader. Screaming and wailing but suddenly there are three within the centre.

‘Hold,’ I shout the order at the sight of the chaos in front. Children screaming as they run in all directions, tripping, falling and slamming into each other. Gunshots clear and distinct coming from Maddox, Mo Mo and Lani but no discernible notion of who is shooting at who.

‘EVERYONE GET DOWN.’

The recognisable boom of Maddox’s voice and he screams the order which penetrates the minds of the panic stricken youths. They drop quickly to lie flat with arms covering heads leaving three figures standing.

Lani aiming at me. Maddox aiming at Lani and Mo Mo moving with frantic twitches as he tries to aim at them both.

Across the ground and I see all I need to see. Lani’s face is tortured with pain. A grimace that morphs her features into a terrible beauty captured by the soft ambient light and the barrel of her weapon held directly towards me.

‘Dave…no…’ I know he’ll have Lani in his sights at the perceived threat to me, ‘Lani…Mo Mo…Maddox…’

‘Mo Mo…not me,’ Maddox grunts the words out as though in pain.

‘Drop it,’ Mo Mo sounds weak but settles his aim on his former leader.

‘Maddox,’ I shout, ‘put it down…all three of you…put them down…’

‘NOT ME!’

‘Are you going to her?’ Lani asks lightly.

‘Lani…’

‘Mo Mo…not me…’

‘Please,’ Mo Mo shouts, ‘Mads, put it down,’ his young voice cracks with emotion, ‘please, Mads…’

‘Not me, bro,’ Maddox sways then visibly tenses with the effort of staying upright.

‘Hello Marcy,’ Lani grins, ‘he was coming to you…’

‘Lani,’ Marcy says cautiously.

‘DON’T SPEAK TO ME YOU FILTHY CHEATING...’

‘Easy,’ I call out, ‘eyes on me…Lani, look at me…’

‘That’s all I’ve ever done,’ she says dreamily.

‘Mo Mo,’ Maddox sounds weaker as his voice loses power.

‘Mads, please…’ Mo Mo pleads, ‘put it down, Mads.’

‘Can’t, Mo Mo,’ Maddox shakes his head against the side of the rifle held aimed at Lani.

‘Did you go to her?’

‘Lani…’

‘She was waiting for you…’

‘Lani, please…just listen…’

She pauses, holding position and the tension soars sky high and I know the final few seconds are being played out. Maddox intent on Lani. Mo Mo begging him to stop and Lani staring at me with a look that will stay with me to my dying days.

We lock eyes. Hers dark and defiant. Mine dark and brooding. The power in her. The power in me. The sparks that erupt across that distance between us and in those eyes I see the pain of the world and all the hurt a man ever caused a woman. I see the destruction we have played out and the desperation to be something, to do more, to take more, to have more, to never stop hoping and never stop taking. She flinches, a snarl that curls the top of her lip up and I see that anger and raise it with my own hand dealt by the devil himself. I stand straight, waiting, knowing, cursing and praying that this won’t happen but it’s pre-ordained and written in the fucking scriptures. We’re fucked. All of us. We’re dying a slow painful death of life being drawn out in hours and days instead of months and years and yet there was hope that life could go on. Hope that was given by the coming of the sun each day and the refusal to lie down and die.

But this. This sickens me. This appals me. That so much life is being taken wasted killed dying death destruction suffering. So much is being taken from our grasp and yet it comes back to this. Back to the emotions of one and the inability to ask a fucking question and seek a fucking answer but instead to allow the base state of being to take over.

New death surrounds me with the metallic tang of blood hanging in the air. Darius shot dead. Jagger shot dead. Children shot dead. Maddox holding an assault rifle pointed at Lani. Mo Mo aimed at Maddox. More guns. More killing to be done. More death to be given out.

‘THIS,’ the word blows from my mouth like the thunder in the sky that made this fort an island, ‘IS…NOT…OUR…WAY.’

The shame of them shows. The shame of the waste of live given for nothing. For a snatched conversation overheard in the frantic desperation of trying to survive. For what she heard I am sorry but for what she has done cannot be forgiven. Deeds that cannot be taken back but she knows this. She knows the step across the line is taken and she cannot ever go back to where she was.

The sanctity of her mind hangs in the balance with a righteous battle displayed for all to see as her eyes narrow, widen, her mouth morphs into a cruel line of pursed lips yet she smiles sweetly. Too much. We’ve seen too much. We’ve done too much. Evil done by our hands in the name of good. The bodies of those we have killed and ripped apart. To know every inch of a human body inside and out and the thousand ways to kill, to inflict injury and to stop others from hurting you.

Too much. The mind breaks and shatters. It plays tricks and warps the perceptions of those around you.

But not Lani. The distance is closing and I see something else now. In her eyes I see the bloom of the crimson blush spreading through the whites that comes and goes with every blink of her eyes. I step closer and she steps back.

‘Everyone leave,’ I give the order quietly but in a tone that leaves no doubt as to the brevity of my intention.

In the light of the fort I see her eyes changing. Red to white. White to red. Her body and mind fight the infection pulling to drag her back down and she knows it. She defies it yet wants it. She senses the power to be gained and the utter control to be given over.

‘Go….go now…’ I turn my head slowly to stare at Maddox. He stares back as strong and defiant as ever. Then on the spot he sags before turning away. The children at our feet silently rise. Onto their feet to move away from me as I step closer to Lani. No voices. No speaking. No orders given but the whispered words uttered from me that clears this space faster than Dave ever could with his drill sergeant voice.

As they stream away from us, as the space around us empties so the bodies of those killed lay stark in the places they fell.

‘I see you,’ I step closer.

‘See you too,’ she says with a smile of pure joy that morphs into anger into pain into hurt into malice.

Closer I step and back she goes. The assault rifle never lowering. Mine gripped one handed at my side.

Lani turns to watch the only one I cannot order come closer. Meredith off to the side. Meredith holding position with eyes locked on Lani. Meredith with head held low and tail steady. Meredith with lips pulling up to show the big white teeth and our one infallible test shows true.

Lani twitches and my rifle is up and aimed. She pauses midway towards pointing her weapon at the dog. Eyes rotated to look at me. She smiles and blinks then turns to look at the dog. She steps back. We go forward. Meredith and I one pace to keep that distance the same. Lani back one. A game being played. A chase. A taunting but not one done by the woman but the thing inside her.

‘We both see you,’ I call out softly.

Her eyes flick side to side with a feral, hunted look. She steps away, pacing out the strides in the way taught to us by Dave so we don’t trip or stumble. Wide strides that sweep the foot just above the ground.

Without words we walk and she leads us round until I’m facing the front and I can see what she saw behind me. Guns. Lots of guns being held and aimed by the steady hands of the team, by Mo Mo and Maddox, by the crew chiefs and by everyone who can hold a weapon. United and together they form a line against the foe we all oppose for the foe is within our midst now and Maddox is proved right.

‘Big gang,’ she says with a quick look at them, ‘mines bigger though.’

I step after her. After the infection. Unafraid. Relentless. She moves back and we move forward.

‘Let me go.’

I shake my head.

‘Let me go and I will build an army that will wipe you off the face of the planet.’

‘Good bargaining skills there, fucktard.’

‘Alex!’

‘Sorry, Paula.’

Towards the armoury she moves with those strides that check the ground the way we were taught by Dave. Leading Meredith and I with her. Nothing to be said. Nothing to be gained from speaking but she stops at the halfway point and moving slowly she lowers the assault rifle until it hangs from one finger hooked through the trigger guard and with a clatter it falls to the ground.

Unarmed and yet she steps back again with a challenge given. My own rifle is lowered until it too hangs from one hand. I don’t drop it but lower it down in one smooth motion before standing upright.

Back she goes. Back towards the armoury and with a final glance at the team she steps through.

‘Mr Howie,’ Dave calls a warning, clearly worried that I’ll head inside and out of his view but I’m not afraid now, a calm settles within me and with a nod at them all to stay still I walk into the near perfect dark of the old armoury.

‘Don’t go in,’ Mo Mo shouts.

A silhouette of Lani moving within, a metallic noise then a click and a battery powered lantern that lights the massive pile of guns and the big box of grenades resting at her feet.

‘Cock it,’ I mutter, ‘nicely done.’

The lantern is bright enough to see her eyes clearly, red, bloodshot and so very terrible not only in appearance but for what they mean.

‘Is it you, Lani?’ I peer closer and ask the most stupid question I have possibly ever asked.

‘I don’t know.’

‘How do you feel?’

‘Feel?’ She pauses with a nonchalant shrug, ‘I feel fine.’

‘Okay,’ that seems to cover it.

‘I feel awful.’

‘Okay,’ maybe not then.

‘I feel…’ she stares hard at me, ‘everything.’

‘That’s a lot…whoa! What the fuck are you doing?’

‘They’re small,’ she hefts the grenade in her hand, ‘but so deadly.’

‘Bit like Dave then,’ I reply nervously, ‘put it down.’

‘No.’

‘Okay, Lani don’t…what the fuck…’

Her finger hooks into the metal hoop but doesn't move, ‘it’s like a wedding ring,’ she rolls the hoop down to the base of her finger, ‘but nothing like a wedding ring.’ Her eyes dart up to fix on mine.

‘You fought it off before,’ I blurt the words out while wondering how long they take to go off and if one grenade detonating will set the rest off. Which is possibly the second most stupid question I have ever asked.

‘What?’

‘The infection…you made it go before…’

‘Who says I’m infected?’

‘Eh? Er…your er…your eyes, Lani…and you know…shooting people and…’

‘I was rescuing you.’

‘Right, rescuing me…’

‘All of you, the team. I was rescuing the team. I only killed those that opposed me, Darius and…’

‘How did Jagger die?’

‘He was shot.’

‘Who by?’

‘By me.’

‘Why?’

‘Felt like it.’

‘You fucking what? You felt like it?’

‘Yep, the same way you felt like fucking Marcy that night. The same way you felt like lying to me and the same way you felt like going back to her.’

‘I did not have sex with Marcy.’

‘You did. I heard you on the radio.’

‘No. You heard half a conversation…and forgive me being blunt, Lani, you know, what with you holding a bomb and all but…we all know the reasons for going after Marcy.’

‘To, going to…not after…you were going to Marcy.’

‘Lani, this isn’t you.’

‘It’s me,’ she nods dumbly, ‘all me. Come here.’

‘No! No way, you’ve got a grenade in your hands.’

‘Brave Howie,’ she mocks, ‘super Howie, the leader of the living army…’

‘I’m immune not fucking bomb proof.’

‘I won’t blow us up, come here,’ she motions me forward.

‘What for?’

‘Howie, come here.’

‘What for, Lani?’ I take a tentative step forward trying to calculate my chances of getting to the grenade in her hand.

She beckons me closer with a wry smile twitching at her lips.

‘Why, Lani? Put the grenade down so we can talk.’

‘No more talking,’ she sighs, ‘just come here.’

‘Ah, you’re gonna blow me up.’

‘God’s sake, Howie. I am not blowing you up.’

‘But you’ve got a grenade and…’

‘Just come here and bloody kiss me!’

‘Eh? Oh…oh right…you want a kiss.’

‘You really know how to ruin a romantic moment don’t you.’

‘Er, thing is…kissing a woman holding a grenade isn’t that sexy.’

‘Well,’ she takes a step towards me, ‘if Howie won’t go to the mountain…’ she takes another step, her eyes darting left to right at mine, ‘then the mountain shall go to Howie.’

I should run. Leg it. Billy big legs and be away but I don’t. I stand my ground and wait as she sidles up closer and closer with the grenade held gripped in her right hand.

Funny thing is, the really weird thing is that I get an urge to kiss her. Like a really strong urge. She looks sexy as anything, long black hair hanging straight down and still just wearing her bra and knickers. Her lithe body reflects the light, showing the fading bruises and healing cuts. The swell of her breasts and the long expanse of skin on her muscled yet slender legs.

‘Oh this is bad,’ I shake my head, ‘are you doing the pheromone thing?’

‘No.’

I swallow and suddenly feel the heat from her body that edges closer to mine. The supple motion of her, the graceful manner. Her lips so dusky and perfect. The eyes are red but…but I can’t stop myself, she’s Lani, right there and…my right hand comes up slowly to cup the side of her face and those red eyes closer at the touch.

She nestles into my hand, pushing her head harder into my hand. I draw her closer and lean in as her lips open to embrace the most erotic kiss I have ever experienced. Slow, tender and charged beyond anything I have ever known.

The danger of it. Like taunting the devil and getting a kick. The death outside makes the desire to taste life all that stronger. To have lived through all this and not to experience life is the greatest shame of all. I know this is fucked up and every common sense bone in my body is screaming for me to get out, to run and flee but I won’t.

Her lips part. My tongue darts between them. She groans and pushes harder against me and the kissing grows in passion with an insatiable hunger.

My god. What the fuck am I doing? Grab the grenade. Punch her in the face and knock her out. Grapple her to the floor…something…do something.

We move back as one until her backside hits the edge of the table with a dull thud. Grunting, panting and so lust filled we kiss like we have never kissed before. Hot and fuelled by a desire to have life and feel life.

The smell of gun oil, ammunition, brass, and the stench of the cleaning detergent we used to mop the floor fills the room. The air is hot and heavy. Lani is holding a grenade and has the red eyes of the infected but right now we’re tearing clothes off as fast as we possibly can. I reach for the hand holding the grenade and we entwine fingers round the bulbous body of the weapon. Taunting danger and edging forward as I stick one finger up at the devil himself.

Her top is pulled up and off, her jeans tugged down. My trousers are undone so they fall about my ankles. My top ripped off. Bodies press against one another. Her bra falls to the floor and my mouth fills with the soft flesh of her breast and the hardening of her nipple.

A hand to the back of my head pulls me closer into her. She arches and groans, wrapping her legs around my backside while forcing me closer still.

Then I am inside her. A pause as the sensation hits us both with a sudden realisation and our eyes widen at the wonder of it all. At the feeling it gives. At the joining of two that become one.

Stupid. Reckless. Foolish and impulsive but fucking wonderful. I move back and forth with small movements that bangs the table against the floor with an increasing rhythm. Her mouth finds mine with demanding kisses and I cannot get close enough to her. Even being inside her isn’t close enough. Eyes open and staring deep and the redness I don’t see. Just Lani. Lani the woman who has saved me time and again and given everything for me to live. Shame and failure grip almost as strongly as the lust to complete this carnal act. The weakness of man, the weakness of my kind to buckle and falter when the mind should be strong.

Is this wrong? Yes. Yes on every level apart from the one that makes me want to forget everything apart from this moment right now.

The climax builds to the point of no return and her legs wrap harder, grip harder. Her arms reach round to my back pulling me in as I release and shudder with my thighs pressed into the edge of the table.

Her mouth kisses my shoulder and up my neck that only serves to heighten the pleasure as the climax rolls on and on. She nips at my ear lobe and sends quivering ripples down my spine. Her breath exhales into my ear so soft and warm.

‘One race…’

If any other words had been spoken they would have gone unheard. But those two words whispered at this point sends a surge of energy through my brain. She goes to move, to reach round my back to join her hands so she can pull the pin but I’m already opposing her. Pulling back to keep her hands from joining. Her strong legs dig into my sides. Her teeth dig into my shoulder with pressure that tears through the flesh down to the bone. In pain and reaction, and still inside her, I headbutt with violent force that slams my forehead against hers and burst back with a hard wrench.

As I go back so an arm wraps around my neck. I drop down but end up offering myself into a headlock with my face planted into the flesh of her stomach. I grab the backs of her legs and lift before slamming her, and me at the same time, down onto the table that implodes and shatters with the force of the impact.

Stunned and I scrabble for her right hand while she does the same. Her left hand trying to force a way to grab the hoop of the grenade safety pin. Grunts of exertion, panting from sex and now fighting to stay alive. Rolling over and over each other in the worst post coital embrace I imagine anyone has experienced.

She changes tactic and slams the grenade into my face. I yelp in pain and shock and she does it again. Whacking the hard metal ball into my skull again and again.

‘Stop it,’ I hiss the words and get another wallop for good measure, ‘fucking hurts.’

The teeth go at me, biting and tearing while the grenade is used to batter me senseless. Her left hand pinned under my body and I grip the wrist double handed and try to force myself up so I can trap it beneath my legs. She hits harder and straight into my ear that sends an explosion of pain through my head and flashing lights behind my eyes.

With my focus on keeping the left arm pinned she changes tack again the clever sod stops trying to get her left arm free to find her right arm, but instead drops her right hand down to her left. I roll and flatten her completely. Her right arm now trapped between us and her left arm still held pinned.

She bucks and writhes, demented with pure venom to kill me. Our faces but inches apart and it isn’t Lani I see but something else. Something horrible, twisted and macabre.

‘Die,’ she spits fully in my face.

‘Lani…’

‘Die,’ she says it again and starts fighting as though having a fit. Her head slamming side to side, the body bucking and I can’t hold her down. The access she has to strength is awesome, drawing on more power from her small lithe frame than I could ever do. The infection pumping her full of chemicals that whips her into a frenzied all-out assault to get free and kill me and then the right hand is free and the grenade is lifted to her mouth. She grips the pin between her teeth and I’m off, scampering onto my feet with my trousers still wrapped round my ankles. I jump as fast as I can and keep jumping as I hear the pin being pulled spat out behind me.

‘DIE,’ on her feet now and as I reach the door I glance back to see her naked and terrible and beautiful all together as she holds the grenade out to her front.

Out the door and running naked into the fort, a hard turn and I’m following the line of the wall away from the armoury.

‘BOMB…’ The word is shouted and the line in front of me comes apart as every single person decides it’s time to be somewhere else.

Jumping, hopping and running in tiny strides I get further down and realise the grenade hasn’t gone off.

I stop, pausing to turn slowly back towards the armoury. A dull thud, metal against concrete. My eyes widen and those three seconds seem to last forever.

The first explosion is an instant boom of detonation, a split second later and the wall of the armoury blows out from the mass combined explosions and despite the distance I gained. My feet are lifted from the ground as I sail bodily through the air and the last thing I see are chunks of masonry and concrete being sent sailing across the fort with huge licks of scorching orange flame lighting their way and the sound effects of war as the ammunition within the weapons explodes.

My senses assaulted. My body impacts on the ground and my head slams hard into the earth.

Blackness. Pitch blackness and nothing more.

Day Five

The house was a lucky find. Old and isolated yet with views of the surrounding countryside. Isolated. Quiet. Perfect.

Big gardens with high thick walls running the perimeter. One corner was hidden from view by thick bushes that were quickly removed.

A well in the garden with fresh water.

The larder stocked with provisions. Tinned foods and dried goods. Two bedrooms each with a double bed. One at the front and one at the back with the doors opposite each other.

Two days ago they found the house. Two days ago the decision to remain here was made. Not to hide. Not to run and flee. Not to seek refuge.

To learn and to train. To educate.

A battered Ford Transit navigates the bumpy unmade road through the winding fields and pasture lands. Past thickets and copses it trundles slow and steady, laden down with heavy weight but there is no rush so the driver takes his time.

The lane leads to the front of the house and the battered Ford Transit glides to a halt. The engine is switched off and the handbrake applied. The driver and passenger doors open at the same time and the occupants of the cabin drop down to stretch in the beautiful warm sunshine.

‘What do I get?’ The one who dropped from the passenger side asks.

‘All.’

‘Okay,’ he jogs off and into the house as the driver stands still to soak up the ambience of the place. Listening for any noises that shouldn’t be there. Sniffing for any smells that shouldn’t be there but the air is tainted by the load carried in the back of the van.

The passenger walks backwards from the front door of the isolated cottage, dragging a heavy canvass bag behind him he tugs it across the ground and off to the side several metres away from the side opening sliding door of the battered Ford Transit.

He looks up, checking the position is good for the driver who nods once and firm. The passenger drops down and unzips the canvas bag exposing the contents to the sky.

‘Can I choose?’

‘No,’ the driver replies, ‘wood.’

‘We did wood yesterday.’

‘Wood.’

‘Oh not fair, we did wood all day yesterday…’

‘Wood. No argue. Wood.’

‘Gregoreeee, please can I use the knife now?’

‘Wood. We use wood.’

‘Can I use the knife later?’

‘Wood. You make ready. I open now…’

The sliding door is pushed back on creaking runners and the undead strain to get at the ugly man but are held in place by thick dog collars secured by ropes tied to metal hoops riveted into the frame of the van, and they choke themselves red in the face with arms that stretch forward with clawed hands.

Gregori checks the boy still dithering with the contents of the bag. With a rueful shake of his head he whips a knife wielding hand into the van. The blade slices the rope holding the nearest undead in check. The undead staggers and falls from the side as Gregori steps smartly back.

‘I’m not ready!’ The boy whines.

Gregori shrugs and leans back against the side of the van with his arms folded, a statement made that he will not help.

‘Fine,’ the boy huffs and reluctantly hefts the wooden baseball bat from the bag. Taking a two handed grip so remembered from the hours of training the day before he walks steadily towards the target.

‘Boy?’

The boy pauses, thinks for a second then grins at Gregori, ‘sorry, I forgot.’

‘We forget. We die.’

‘Okay,’ the boy nods and stares hard at the undead struggling to get upright, ‘a man…er….he is fat,’ the boy frowns with concentration, ‘and he is bald and…and fat and….he doesn't have his shoes on…’

‘What else?’

‘Er…he’s fat.’

‘You say this. What does fat mean?’

‘Heavy!’ The boy announces, ‘harder to knock over.’

‘Good,’ Gregori nods, ‘the body is thicker…so?’

‘Head,’ the boy says, ‘I should go for the head?’

‘Good.’

‘Come, we go,’ the boy mocks the accent of the Albanian as he stalks towards the heavy limbed undead rising up into a seated position, ‘I BOY,’ the boy shouts playfully. He aims, pauses and strikes with a dull thud as the bat impacts on the solid male adult head. The undead slumps down with a gargle but the boy is ready and whips the bat overhead to slam down with brutal efficiency. As trained by Gregori, he keeps his arms slightly unlocked at the elbows to prevent the jarring effect of striking a solid object.

‘What you do?’ Gregori asks with a harsh tone.

‘Oh,’ the boy steps back and remembers he is not meant to hit the head at the front or the back if a side strike is open and the chance of breaking the neck is offered. He goes back to work, thudding the bat again and again into the side of the skull until the bones cave in.

‘Brains,’ the boy calls out excitedly, ‘he’s dead,’ he steps back panting from the effort.

‘Good,’ Gregori nods again, ‘next…wait for him to be up…on feet…’

‘With a knife?’ The boy asks hopefully then shrugs at the dark look given by the Albanian, ‘no knife,’ the boy sighs.

One by one the undead are taken from the van and released into the garden area. One by one Gregori makes the boy wait until they’re on their feet and mobile before letting him attack. The boy uses the bat. Striking, hitting, slamming and learning. Building strength of grip, dexterity and angles of approach. Learning that different body types take hits in different ways. Learning the reactions of hitting knee joints to make them topple then being in position to strike them as they go down.

Halfway through and they stop for a break. Drinking cool water in the shade of the isolated cottage. Only when they finish will the bodies be moved as the boy needs to learn to navigate obstacles during combat.

‘Knife now?’ The boy burps from the water and looks up hopefully.

Gregori stares down into the blue eyes of the child, so playful, so willing to learn and utterly without remorse or thought of what it means to take life. The boy doesn't have nightmares but sleeps soundly. He eats whatever he is given. Drinks water and asks questions.

‘Okay,’ Gregori nods, ‘small knife only.’

‘Yes!’ The boy laughs with delight, ‘thank you, Gregori!’ He rushes forward to wrap his arms around the Albanians waist before running off across garden, leaping dead bodies and getting to the weapons bag.

Gregori allows a rare smile and sips his water. The same thing has happened that has happened since he met the boy.

Rounding the undead up was hard work. Getting them into collars was hard. Driving back then releasing them one by one into the garden is hard but the same pattern happens again and again. Not voiced. Not spoken about.

The infected hunger for flesh. They are driven with an urge to kill and feast. But they don’t go for the boy, only for Gregori.

As the realisation sunk in, so Gregori knew to watch for it. Not once has one of them turned towards the boy, lunged for the boy, tried to bite the boy or even shown a flicker of reaction at the boy.

What it means the ugly man knows not and with a contented sigh he pushes off from the wall and heads over to change the grip of the knife held by the boy as the killing training continues under the beautiful warm sun by the isolated cottage in the wide open countryside.

Table of Contents

The Undead Day Sixteen Part Two

Copyright

All Rights reserved.

The story so far

Day Sixteen.

One…

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Nineteen

Table of Contents

- The Undead Day Sixteen Part Two
- Copyright
- All Rights reserved.
- The story so far
- Day Sixteen.
- One…
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Nineteen