Luc nodded nervously. “Of course.”
It was still an effort to look him in the eye. “I meant to come and see you a while ago, but I didn’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything, Halley,” he said, giving me a wretched look.
I moved closer to him. “I want you to be a part of this community, Luc, and you can’t do that hiding in here.”
Luc shrugged. “I don’t deserve to be a part of this community.”
“Of course, you do,” I said softly, leaning forward to touch his arm. “What happened was an accident, and you didn’t mean to hurt me.”
His eyes glistened. “No, but I still stole the gun, and I did mean to threaten you all with it,” he replied, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I almost killed you…and your baby.”
Shortly after I’d static-shocked Luc to death in the courtyard, Ben had taken him to one of the cells to recover. Max was left to guard him but, upon waking, Luc had overpowered him and escaped.
He’d sneaked down to the front of the school where the cars were still parked, and then smashed the back window of the Volvo to get the rifle, having seen Ben chuck it into the boot the night we’d brought them back to the school. Daniel and Ben had seen Luc from the office window and given chase as he’d entered the stairwell. After firing a warning shot at them, Luc had headed our way to find his children.
“I’m fine, and so is my baby,” I told him.
His miserable expression didn’t change. Any remnant of anger I harbored toward him, completely dissipated when I saw how utterly remorseful and dejected he was. He needed my forgiveness, but I suspected it wouldn’t be enough for him—right now, he had no faith to offer him the absolution he so desperately wanted.
“It was an accident, Luc,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “I forgive you.”
He shook a little in my arms but held me tight for a few seconds before pulling away.
“Thank you, Halley,” he sniffed. “But I will never forgive myself.”
I sighed. “Give yourself a break, Luc. You were chosen to be here just like we all were. You have a purpose. Your belief may have been tested, but you’re still the same person. Mostly. We need someone like you, I think. Someone to confide in. Someone to give us counsel.”
The words spilled from my mouth before I’d even given them any conscious thought. It seemed to be happening a lot lately—little whispers in the back of my mind, guiding my voice and actions.
Luc breathed deeply, considering what I’d said. It seemed to resonate with him because, after a few moments, he attempted a smile.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Where do I start?”
****
The courtyard was already adorned with over a dozen pumpkins and decorated with various spooky paraphernalia. I almost tripped over a polystyrene headstone as I made my way over to the fountain, where everyone was busy carving pumpkins.
Luc followed me, somewhat apprehensively, but was greeted enthusiastically by Isabelle and Sebastian. Both of them were already covered in pumpkin entrails, their clothing stained orange and dotted with seeds. Claire, Nate, Tobias, and Priya sat on the brim of the fountain basin, intently working on their art.
Eve, who was down on the gravel in amongst buckets of pumpkin guts, got to her feet and wiped her hands down her apron. She then untied it and chucked it at Luc.
“Your turn,” she chuckled.
“Merci,” Luc replied.
Priya growled and let her pumpkin fall to the floor. “I’m no good at this!”
Tobias picked it up and looked at it with a frown. “What’s it supposed to be?”
Priya pouted. “A cat.”
Tobias spun the pumpkin around to show Isabelle and Sebastian. “Does this look like a cat to you, kids?’
Luc turned to them. “C’est un chat?”
Sebastian shook his head, laughing uncontrollably. “C’est un chaussure!”
Luc grinned. “He says it looks like a shoe.”
Tobias snorted as Priya rolled her eyes. She got up and turned to Nate. “May we borrow you for a moment?”
Nate, absorbed in his creation, looked up, confused. “Huh? Oh yeh, sure.”
He got up and handed me his pumpkin. The design he’d carved looked like a large hole next to something vaguely resembled a bat.
“Is that meant to be a full moon?”
He gave me a wounded look. “I think it’s pretty good.”
I laughed. “Well, you tried your best, and that’s all that matters.”
Nate kissed me and then gave me a sly wink. “Can’t be good at everything, can I?”
“Eurgh!”
Priya touched my arm. “Won’t keep him long,” she said, and then she headed back into the school with Tobias and Nate.
I turned to Eve. “Where’s Gabriel and Daniel?”
“Canteen, why?”
“I need to talk to you all about something.”
We made our way to the canteen, where we found Gabriel, Daniel, and Ben standing around a table, examining a map of the southwest of England. It seemed fairly apt considering what I was about to ask them.
Gabriel glanced up at me. “Hi there. We were just talking about you.”
I cocked my head to one side. “Oh?”
Gabriel handed me a pen and gestured toward the map. “Where were you and Nate hiding out?”
I leaned down and marked an X by the location of ‘Siren Bay,’ and then, after a moment of hesitation, I drew an X next to Liskeard.
“Is that where you lived before you found Nate?” Eve asked me.
“Yes. Actually, that’s what I want to talk to you all about.”
Pulling a chair out from under the table, I sat down on it, resting my elbows on the map over the Orkney Islands. Eve and Gabriel sat too, but Daniel continued to stand, arms crossed with a suspicious look on his face.
“My Aunt is alive. I lived with her before I found Nate, and now we need to go get her.”
Gabriel pursed his lips together. “What do you want from us?”
“A car.”
“We can leave today,” Daniel replied. “Shouldn’t take more than five or six hours to get there, right?”
I nodded. “Yes. But it’s something we’d prefer to do…alone. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, lots to tell her, and it would be better if I could do that in my own time.”
Daniel shook his head and laughed incredulously. “You want us to give you a car and trust that you’ll come back?”
“Yes.”
“No way,” Daniel snapped. “Not happening.”
Gabriel grinned and reached into the pockets of his jeans. He produced a set of keys and chucked them at me. “Take the truck.”
Daniel ground his teeth and glared at Eve as if he expected her to support his view.
She gave him a shrug and said, “They aren’t prisoners here, Daniel.”
Her reaction surprised me. “We’ll be back in a few days,” I said.
It wasn’t a lie either. We would be back. After everything that’d happened, I could honestly call Eve my friend. And many of the others here too. Even Laura and I had grown a little closer, despite her initial frostiness toward me. Daniel remained a mystery, and I didn’t care much for Ben, but the others I would sorely miss.
Eve sighed. “I’ll get the truck fueled and pack up some provisions for you.”
“Thank you.”
I stood and gave Gabriel a half-hug. He didn’t seem to enjoy public displays of affection, often embraced against his will by Claire. He always looked thoroughly uncomfortable.
Ben, who’d stayed silent during our conversation—probably because he couldn’t care less whether we stayed or left—shot me a quick smirk and said, “Where’s my hug?”
“Next time, maybe.”
He shrugged in mock disappointment. “Whatever.”
An hour later, the truck was packed and ready to go. A few people came to wave us off, including Claire, who wore a mis
erable expression as she kicked aimlessly at the gravel.
“We won’t be gone long,” I told her.
She pouted. “I know. I just don’t want you to be sad when you remember.”
Her words sounded ominous, to say the least, but there was no point asking her what she meant. Even if she understood, she wouldn’t tell me.
I hugged her goodbye and got into the truck. Nate started the engine, and we drove down to the school gates that’d been left open for us. As we left, I watched the school slowly disappear in the rear-view mirror, feeling a little pang of melancholy.
But, finally, I was making good on my promise and heading home.
****
Before…
As the sun rose, I woke with a start, my nightclothes drenched in sweat, my heart pounding rapidly.
I only knew the dream had been terrifying but remembered nothing of it.
The battery-powered alarm clock atop my bedside cabinet informed me it was five A.M.
It wasn’t quite time for me to get up, but with the remnant adrenalin of the nightmare still coursing through me, there was no point trying to go back to sleep again. Rising wearily, I stretched my arms wide, my spine cracking as though I hadn’t moved my body in days. After a brief massage of my neck muscles to soothe the painful crick, I made my bed and dressed quickly.
Before leaving the room, I reached into the top drawer of the cabinet and retrieved a small white envelope with the name ‘Rebecca’ written neatly across it. My fingers traced the lettering as a wave of sadness caused my heartbeat to falter. I swallowed down my emotion and clutched the letter close to my chest.
You can do this, I told myself, repetitively chanting it like a mantra in my head.
Taking one last glance around my bedroom, I shut the door as quietly as I could and then crept across the lounge and into the kitchen.
The remnants of our last meal together were still on the dining table, so I set the letter down against a wine bottle where I was sure she would find it.
Rebecca.
On tiptoes, I slipped back into the lounge and toward Rebecca’s bedroom. The door was ajar enough for me to poke my head through the gap and look in on her. She was soundly asleep, so swaddled up in her duvet that all I could see were the long tendrils of her dark hair spread out over her pillow.
I blew her a silent kiss. “Goodbye, Rebecca.”
Outside, the sun rose higher into a cloud-strewn, pink and orange sky. As the rays broke through the cloud and touched my skin, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, savoring the warmth.
The twittering of a sparrow brought me out of my reverie. The little bird sat on the thickest branch of a nearby apple tree, flexing its mottled black and brown feathers as it chirped and sang. It gave me a brief glance before it took off and flew southwards, to the ocean.
As I made my way around to the garage to collect my backpack and bike, the worries and doubts began to circulate in my mind again. My hand hovered uncertainly over the door lever for a few seconds before I took a deep breath and twisted the handle.
You can do this.
I conjured up an image of the ocean and closed my eyes, trying to recall the sounds of the tide coming ashore—the roaring whoosh of the surf, and the clank of rolling pebbles as the sea dragged them into its belly.
You can do this.
I lifted up the garage door just enough to duck under it and then walked the bike down the path through the front garden, resting it against the fence while I returned quickly to close the heavy metal door. If it were open for more than a few minutes, an opportunistic squirrel would get in and wreak havoc on the packets of dried food stored in there.
Once I mounted the bike, I let it coast down the lane toward the highway. At the main road, my feet found the peddles, cycling fast and hard until my thighs cramped, and I couldn’t ride anymore. Then I got off and walked, covering as much distance as possible before sunset, by which time my aching legs were like jelly.
Tomorrow, I would head along the coast.
Finding an old bus stop to sleep in, I huddled down into my sleeping bag with a contented smile on my face, knowing I’d traveled too far to turn around and go back home.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After…
After three hours on the road, Nate pulled the truck over by a petrol station to stretch his legs. I took the opportunity to use the bathroom situated in a small building on the far edge of the car park. The women’s bathroom stank of stale urine and mold. I managed to pee quickly and hurry back outside without retching.
Nate went into the kiosk to see if there was anything worth looting. The glazing in the entrance door was smashed, though the little shards of glass had been cleared to one side of the floor, leaving a clear path inside.
When he came out, he seemed a little unsettled. “I’ve been here before.”
“What do you mean?”
“I looted this place years ago.”
He took hold of my hand and led me around the building to the side that faced the motorway heading south. In big, black spray-painted letters on the whitewashed wall of the kiosk, Nate had written a message.
SURVIVORS COME TO SIREN BAY was there for all to see, and just below it was a map of the lower half of England, hand-painted and a little crude, but easy to follow. One red dot marked the location of the petrol station, and one red X marked the location of Nate’s cabin.
I moved closer, tracing the X with my fingers. “Good thing I didn’t need a map to find you.”
“Guess not.” He wrapped his arms around me and rested his hands on my stomach. “Want to know some hot gossip?”
“Always.”
He laughed. “Actually, it isn’t really gossip because they said I could tell you. I’m not breaking patient-doctor confidentially or anything.”
I wheeled to face him, hand on hips, shooting him a demanding frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Priya is pregnant.”
“What?”
“That’s what she and Tobias wanted to talk to me about. Priya suspected but wasn’t sure, so they asked me to confirm it.”
I blinked. “The drug worked?”
“I hadn’t started her on it.”
It took me a moment to process the information, but it still didn’t make sense. “Then, how?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I have a few theories, but nothing I can prove right now. I originally assumed the virus had made a mistake and hadn’t been able to re-start the female reproductive system after destroying all the ova, but that doesn’t seem to be the case now. Besides, they don’t make mistakes, do they? I think reproduction just works differently now.”
“Different how?”
“What if an egg is created and released exactly when it’s needed rather than every month? It’s a far more efficient means of population control, especially in a population that will age slower and live longer?”
“That only explains the absence of good old ‘auntie flow’ though,” I replied.
He chuckled and threw his hands in the air. “Exactly. It doesn’t explain why it took nearly five years for someone to conceive a child, or how you—an unevolved human—managed to conceive in the first place.”
“Maybe they decide when we get to have children.”
He shook his head. “Maybe, but I think it’s more about community. Ultimately, we all need each other. Survival is easier in groups. Perhaps we all just needed to be together first.”
I smirked. “Fine. We’ll go with that.”
We walked back to the truck and recommenced our journey, veering away from the main roads as much as possible to avoid getting stuck behind roadblocks or traffic jams. Mostly we were able to drive through the countryside, only having to reverse once or twice to find another route after coming across fallen trees or potholes so large they’d become swimming pools. The truck was efficient at plowing through overgrown bramble, but the windscreen suffered a crack when an overhanging vine smacked so hard
against the glass, I instinctively ducked.
It forced us to slow down significantly, and it was dark when the truck headlights finally fell upon Rebecca’s cottage as we pulled into the driveway.
No light came from inside, no sign that anyone lived here at all. Not that it was unusual for my Aunt to be in bed by this time of night, although I did wonder if she’d left home and come after me since I’d been away so long.
If so, where the hell was she now?
Nate grabbed a couple of torches from the glove compartment—part of the provisions packed by Eve—and we both slid out of the truck, somewhat apprehensively. The night was eerily silent except for the occasional hoot of an owl and the sound of our footsteps on the concrete pathway.
When we reached the side door, I opened it cautiously, waving the beam of my torch around the kitchen. A smell of something decaying and rotten imbued the air around me and burnt my nostrils, prompting me to use my sleeve to cover my mouth and nose to prevent me from gagging.
The smell was familiar. It was the same sickly odor that had filled the corridors and wards of the hospital. There was death here too.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut, we moved forward through the kitchen and into the lounge. It was cold in here; no glowing embers in the fire, no recently expunged candle wicks. So cold.
Nate stopped me as I reached my hand out to Rebecca’s bedroom door.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
My hand dropped to my side, and I stepped back so he could move in front of me. He pushed the door open slowly and shone his torch around the room.
“Stay there,” he commanded me as he walked forward. He paused briefly to cough and cover his nose before he disappeared from my view.
I wanted to follow him, but I couldn’t. An overwhelming sense of foreboding kept my feet from stepping through the doorway, much like the time I stood outside of the bathroom in my mother’s flat while she lay dead in the bathtub.
Nate reappeared after a minute and firmly closed the bedroom door behind him.
He took hold of my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Halley.”
Rebecca was dead.
“How?”
“It looks like she died in her sleep,” Nate whispered
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