In the draft blogs section is one headed: Are you all right?
I hit “edit.”
Shay: We’re fine. We found out that the Aberdeen flu didn’t start in Aberdeen; we’re going to Shetland. There was an underground lab there, doing questionable research into finding a cure for cancer—the flu started there. We’re going to try to trace the doctor who was responsible.
I hit “save,” trying to work out what else to say, but then another edit drops in while I’m thinking. Iona must be online.
Iona: Wow. What a scoop!
I snort.
Shay: Gee, thanks!
I save it and wait a moment, then hit “refresh.” A new edit appears.
Iona: Sorry, so glad you’re both okay. They said you are a murderer—what a pile of shit. Are they after you because of what you know? Soldiers came here, all suited up, and had a big standoff at the blocked road before my brother and our neighbor decided best let them in. They spoke to all of us—demanded to know where you were—and searched the house, the barns. We pointed out we had barricaded the road before the area was even quarantined and that no one had gotten in or out since then. Until they turned up, that is.
I bite my lip as I read what she’s sent.
Shay: Oh my God, Iona; I’m so sorry that happened.
And I’m also appalled, chilled to my gut. If they hadn’t let them in, what would the soldiers have done?
Iona: Don’t be, I’d die for this scoop. Tell me all you can as you go. I’ll spread it around my sources to make sure it is known through networks, so if anything happens to you or me they can spread it around.
Shay: Iona! DON’T SAY YOU’D DIE FOR IT!
I internet-shout at her, all in capital letters.
Iona: Sorry. Figure of speech, yada yada. Have you worked out how to get over the sea to Shetland?
Shay: Nope.
Iona: This you may not know yet; it’s just been in the news: the whole of the UK is quarantined now. Our coastline is being patrolled by our coast guard and navy, and beyond that by an international UN containment force.
Shay: What?? How are we going to get there now?
Iona: There’s always a way; there’ve been reports of boats slipping through and making it to other parts of Europe. I’ll see if I can come up with something. Check in when you can. I’ll delete this thread when we’re done.
Shay: Isn’t this secure?
Iona: Yes. But I’ll delete it anyhow. Take care of yourself and that hunky man. (((hugs)))
Shay: (((hugs)))
I stare at the screen a moment longer, then hit “refresh”; the post is gone. I’m shaken, and I’m scared for Iona, her family. For Iona to delete anything to do with a story shows that she’s scared too, and she is the one person I know who is never, ever, scared of anything.
Kai is back.
“I found a good car by an empty house but couldn’t find the keys. We’re going to have to widen our search.”
“Okay. Let’s make it fast.”
We take the stolen packs and supplies and head for other streets, ones we’ve avoided so far because they have too much pain—from the still living.
“That one?” Kai gestures at a dark-colored four-wheel drive. We peer through the car window, just in case we’re having a lucky moment, but no—there are no keys in the ignition.
I walk up to the door, look at him, shrug and knock.
No answer, but there is pain inside the house—even through my barriers I can feel it, rippling out all around.
The front door is locked. We go through a gate; the back door opens. We go in.
The downstairs is messed up, like someone has had a temper tantrum and thrown everything they could. Quietly we hunt around on surfaces, coat pockets, drawers for keys, but no luck. I gesture toward the stairs; Kai reaches out a hand to my shoulder, motions that he’ll go first.
Up the stairs in a bedroom, lying next to a dead woman, cradling her in his arms, is a man who is the source of the pain. His eyes are wild.
“Who are you?” he gasps. His death is near, so near that drops of blood shine red in his eyes.
I step around Kai. “Hi. I’m Shay, this is Kai. We’re hoping it’d be okay if we borrow your car, but we can’t find the keys.”
He laughs. Which is quite a feat for someone who is dying and in pain. “Why should I tell you where they are?”
“Does it matter anymore?”
“No. But that’s not the point.”
I glance at Kai, not sure what to say.
“It’s like this,” Kai says. “We’ve found out where the epidemic started and that someone did it on purpose. We’re going to find the guy who was in charge. We need a car for that.”
The man tilts his head to one side. His face, which was contorted before, suddenly relaxes: the pain has gone. He breathes easier, and so do I.
“Why didn’t you say so?” He gestures at a bedside table. “In there, second drawer. But there is one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“If you find him, kill the bastard.”
“It’s a promise,” Kai says, and he says the words with so much truth in his voice, so much hate, that it makes me take a step back. He opens the drawer and grabs the keys.
By the time we leave the house and start the car, I feel its owner let go upstairs—he’s dead.
When we head up the road, Callie rejoins us.
“Where are the soldiers now?” I ask her.
The one above the loch is heading away from us, toward Killin. You should have enough time to get to your turnoff before he comes back again.
Kai drives out of Kenmore slowly, lights off. Callie scouts the road up ahead again, and I know all the soldiers in the area are accounted for and none of them are near us, but I still hold my breath, convinced an army vehicle will loom up in the dark. But the road stays clear.
We reach our turn—a winding, narrow road, barely used at the best of times, let alone now. It goes up, to quiet places in the mountains, higher and higher above Loch Tay.
CHAPTER 2
CALLIE
KAI DRIVES SLOWER THAN ANYONE has ever driven in the history of cars. He’s making sure he doesn’t have to brake, so the brake lights don’t come on. We creep up, past a huge dam that gleams in the night, and keep going higher. The road is even narrower now, and finally he stops altogether and puts on the hand brake.
“It’s too dangerous. Without the lights on, I can’t see the road at all.”
“Really?” Shay is surprised. “I can—the stars are so bright.”
They are to us, maybe not to him?
“I can’t drive, but I’ll steer,” Shay says.
“That sounds dangerous too.”
Shay punches Kai in the arm.
“Ouch! Callie, is the soldier below us still on the same road?” Kai says, speaking to me directly, and I smile.
I’ll go and check!
I find the solider on the road by the loch, heading toward Kenmore now as part of his endless circuit back and forth.
I return. He’s still by the loch, I say, and Shay relays what I said.
“How far are we from the roadblock at the bridge now—about three miles?” Shay says. “Maybe we should start looking for a place off road we can leave the car out of sight. Can you check the roadblock above again too, Callie?”
I zoom up the road, higher and higher, and reach the point where this narrow road meets another. There is a bridge over a river, and the roadblock is there. There’s a little hut and one suited-up guard in it, and I swoop down to check on him.
That’s odd. He’s out of his hut and talking to someone: there are two of them. There’s always been just one every other time I’ve checked.
They seem to be saying goodbye, and—oh. Is it shift change time? The other one is staying, and the one that has been there all day is getting on a motorcycle, and…
Taking the road down to Killin.
I blur past him, back to Kai and Shay, an
d stop with an abrupt bump.
A soldier from the roadblock is coming down the road this way on a motorcycle.
“What?” Shay says.
He’ll be here really soon!
“Callie says a soldier is coming this way on a motorcycle.”
“We need to get off the road and hide.”
“Do we have time to double back to the dam, park down there, and hope we’re not spotted?”
A light appears in the distance, then disappears again as the road dips down.
No.
They scramble out of the car and grab their packs.
“Follow me,” Shay says. “I know the paths. Callie, tell us what is happening!”
They run down the road a little way until they reach a path, and they only just clear a rise and dip down behind it when the light of the motorcycle reappears in the distance. He gets closer and then must see the car. He stops and gets a radio out.
I rush to listen.
“…stopped on the road, above the dam. Now checking.”
He comes forward slowly, lights on, then gets off his bike and checks inside the car and around it with a flashlight. He holds it up to shine all around.
Then the radio comes out again.
“There’s no one here. Suspect someone has gone on by foot in attempt to avoid the roadblock and breach the quarantine zone. Call in reinforcements to monitor river-crossing points. I’ll come back up to assist.”
CHAPTER 3
SHAY
THE WAY IS HARD TO SEE, even for me; harder for Kai. I slow so he can keep up without wiping out on the rocky path, even as everything inside screams go, go, go!
Callie returns with a blur. He stopped and called for help, and went back to the roadblock.
“What did he say, exactly?”
That they’ll monitor river-crossing points.
I repeat what Callie said to Kai.
“What now?” he says.
“We could lie low for a while down here. But what if they bring the dogs?”
Shhh, Callie says, and I hold up a hand to Kai. She disappears, comes back a moment later. There’s someone with funny binoculars up the hill.
“Funny binoculars? Can they see in the dark—like infrared or something?”
I don’t know. Maybe. Wouldn’t be much point in using them if they couldn’t see.
We shrink down.
“I think we should head back down toward Killin and do a wide loop before we go back up and cross the river,” I whisper.
“The dogs are in Killin. We’ll be getting closer to them if we do that.”
“Got a better idea?”
“No.”
We change direction, head downhill, away from where we want to go. We reach the woods above Loch Tay and disappear in the trees while Callie goes to check what’s happening again.
She’s back moments later. There are five of them up above now. Two watching the higher paths with binoculars, two along the river, and one at the roadblock.
“And the dogs?”
Still asleep at your house.
“That’s weird. I’d have thought getting the dogs up to the car to follow our trail from there would have been the first thing they’d do.”
None of the soldiers from Killin have come up. It’s just the two from the roadblock, and three more that came from that direction.
So maybe they didn’t tell the ones down below with the dogs? I frown. I can’t think what this means.
CHAPTER 4
CALLIE
SHAY AND KAI DECIDE TO STAY HIDDEN in the trees through the day and sleep. I keep watch. There are still five uniforms above. Now one is at the roadblock, three are stationed near the easiest places to cross, and the last one is walking back and forth between them, sweeping around him with binoculars. No one from below comes to join them, and the dogs are still in Killin.
When dusk falls, Kai and Shay hike back up, up, until finally they are near the river. They decide to leave their packs behind, tucked under some bushes. The water is high and noisy, rushing and tumbling against rocks in the river, and trees on flooded banks—it’ll be hard enough to cross without them. But first Shay gets out the plastic-wrapped phones they’d found and zips them into her jacket pocket.
They creep closer to the river.
He’s on his return walk now. Be quiet.
Thanks, Callie, Shay thinks, and gestures to Kai to stay silent.
Footsteps approach, and light sweeps across the water down below. Footsteps recede.
Okay: go now.
Shay nods, and they creep out and hurry down the slope toward the riverbank. Kai slips, and rocks clatter down the slope.
He’s coming back!
Shay grabs Kai’s hand, pulls him down against a dip in the ground, and they shrink down in the darkness.
A beam of light sweeps over their heads, then back to the water.
The soldier stands there for a moment but doesn’t radio for help. Finally he turns around and goes back the way he came.
Okay, he’s gone: go!
They stand again and reach the riverbank.
Kai swears softly when he sees the river, dimly lit by the stars: the swirls, the eddies, the rocks. “Sure this is the best place to cross?”
“Callie says it is—that all the easier places are watched. Nothing else to do, right?” But I can hear the fear in Shay’s voice.
They clamber down the bank, slipping and sliding on wet stones into the water. Both gasp when they go in. Kai pulls out to the center with a few swift strokes, Shay slower behind him, both of them being swept far downstream by the current at the same time.
But Shay’s not in control in the swirling water, not at all. Her head dips under the water, then she comes up, coughing.
The rapids are getting closer.
Swim to the bank!
Her thoughts are muddy and panicked. She’s not trying to swim; her arms are flailing. She swirls around again.
Her head disappears under the water.
CHAPTER 5
SHAY
MY LUNGS ARE BURNING, and I’m so, so cold. There are funny spots in my vision—round, like little bubbles that form and vanish and re-form again. Callie’s panicked thoughts prickle at the edges of my awareness, then fade away.
The surface of the water rushes above. I’m pinned down by the current. There are rocks just under the water, forming a channel it rushes through, and this current is pulling me down; I’m almost wedged between the rocks. Straining against them and clawing up with my arms, I manage to break the surface of the water and gasp in a gulp of air, but then the water closes over my head once again.
Why is this happening? I’m bemused and annoyed. The fear is gone. My consciousness is slipping away. The strength of will to not breathe in is almost broken, and all there is to breathe in is water.
Water, full of fury and life. I reach out, all around me.
The cold and crush of the current on my body recede. I dance with tiny amoebas spinning in the current; flash silver with fish that flit below and look up at my feet.
They know the way. From one set of eyes, then another, I focus on the rocks and the water itself, the patterns and swirls and eddies.
The current that holds me under the surface of the water rushes downriver to rapids and waterfalls: there’s a shortcut channel below me that goes underground through rocks. That’s why the water pushes relentlessly down, down: both current and gravity draw it this way to plummet to the falls.
I need to move downriver just a bit more, past this rush of water plunging down through the channel, and then the river should let me come up again.
I return to my body, and the oxygen deficit slams into me once again. Do it, Shay, I say to myself. I feebly maneuver my body sideways to move along the channel—and I’m pushed both downriver and farther under the water’s surface. Fear makes me want to claw upward, but I make myself head down and forward instead—until I reach a point where the water pushing down and water rushi
ng forward are equal, and I’m held still.
Go forward a bit more, Shay. You can do it.
One final pull against the rocks, and I’m past the battling currents. The water rushing forward has me now, and I kick up to break the surface. I gasp air into greedy lungs again and again.
But I’m being dragged to the falls, closer and closer—no strength left to fight it.
None.
I’m sorry, Kai.
I spin toward rocks near the top of the falls.
An arm reaches out, grabs my shoulder. Kai pulls me against him, nestled against rocks in the middle of the river.
I’m coughing.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” He says it again and again as if he needs to hear the words as much as I do.
The soldier is coming back! Callie says.
I cough, try to tell Kai. Then give up and point at the bank we came from.
“He’s coming?”
I nod.
“We haven’t got time to get the rest of the way across without being seen. We’ll have to go around the side of these rocks and hold on to them tight, hide behind them so he can’t see us. Got it?”
I nod, terrified at the thought of going into the current again.
“Callie, tell us at the last moment when we have to go. It’ll be hard to hold on there for too long. Shay, you can just hold on to me, okay?”
Panic is swirling inside me faster than the river.
Shay, you’ll be all right; Kai’s got you, Callie says. He won’t let go.
Seconds pass that seem long.
Now!
I signal to Kai, and he pushes us around the other side of the rocks, back into the current. It pulls and plucks at us, but my arms are around him, and he’s holding on to the rocks so I’m pressed between him and them.
A beam of light sweeps over the rocks where we’re hidden; it seems to hold there forever. Finally it moves on.
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