The Spread: Book 1 (The Hill)
Date: 2020-08-19 00:00:00+00:00
Description: An ancient land hides a new threat...The Scottish Highlands; a sparse, mountainous region some say was carved by the gods themselves. Few places are as untouched as this harsh, prehistoric landscape. It is no place for man.But nestled deep within the wilderness lies a cottage, and behind that cottage is a hill...When a group of friends travel up from Manchester and hire the cottage for a weekend of boozy fun, they discover a threat far greater than the harsh landscape and unwelcoming weather.Something deadly lies upon the hill.And it's waiting.
Publisher: Independently published
Rights: Copyright 2021 Iain Rob Wright. All rights reserved.

The Spread

Book 4 (The Road)

Iain Rob Wright

Ulcerated Press

Contents

FREE BOOKS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

CONTINUE THE STORY

FREE BOOKS

Plea From the Author

Also by Iain Rob Wright

About Iain Rob Wright

Don't miss out on your FREE Iain Rob Wright horror pack. Five terrifying books sent straight to your inbox.

No strings attached & signing up is a doddle.

For more information just visit the back of this book.

Chapter One

Two Months ago…

Sophie didn’t know the time, but it felt like late afternoon. Sunlight spilled in through the supermarket’s tall front windows and showed no signs of fading. Yet, despite the early hour, she was bone-tired and fuzzy-headed. The possibility of taking a nap in safety was enticing.

It’s bizarre, not having to watch my back or find somewhere to hide.

Sophie and her would-be mother-in-law, Nancy, had discovered this supermarket full of friendly strangers shortly after dawn. They had been hiking alongside the highway on their quest to exit Manchester when someone had started waving at them enthusiastically from the building’s car park. It had been a risk, but the people turned out to be friendly and more than happy to welcome them both inside. With twenty-two aisles stacked full of supplies – and a warehouse filled with more – the forty-odd residents here had food and water to last a year. It was a much better set-up than the last supermarket they had stayed at.

It was tempting to stay put. To just ride out the apocalypse here and hope for the best.

But that would mean giving up on Ryan.

The world turned to shit two weeks ago. Sophie and Nancy had remained inside their homes at first, before eventually being summoned to an emergency rescue centre set up inside a large supermarket near the city centre. It had been twice as big as the one they were now in, but filled with twenty times the number of people. It had been a badly organised mess from the start, and the authorities had quickly abandoned the place. People had got twitchy and dangerous after that, fighting over supplies, so three days ago, Sophie and Nancy had fled and hit the road. The going had been tough every step of the way since then, and they had witnessed anarchy and destruction on every corner, from simple vandalism to brutalised bodies lying in the gutter. Mass panic had ignited upon the arrival of the very first news reports describing a vague calamity that no one seemed to quite understand. People started looting and rioting, or they bunkered up inside their homes, armed to the teeth. Nobody worked together or attempted to keep the anarchy at bay. Disinformation reigned supreme. The dominant theory was the most frightening of them all.

The Earth was being invaded by an alien life form.

I still can’t believe it. Alien organisms sent from space. It’s insane.

The final news reports airing before the lights went out warned of a green fungus spreading rapidly to all four corners of the globe. Manchester, so far, remained free of infection, but the damage caused by the previous fortnight’s rioting was severe. A quarter of the city burned – from Salford to Stockport – while the rest was a fomenting war zone. Tribes formed; people fought and stole from each other, desperate to see themselves and their families safe. Sophie didn’t blame them – she and Nancy had partaken of a little looting themselves – but she couldn’t help but worry that they were making their lives harder. Clearly, no miraculous government intervention was incoming, so it was up to everyone else to hold things together. Society was in danger of plummeting into an abyss, but everyone had their backs turned.

After three days of sleeping rough, Sophie intended to make the most of being at the supermarket. She and Nancy had been robbed twice since leaving the emergency rescue centre, and two days ago, a horrible old man had struck Sophie around the head with a walking stick for no reason. They had kept off the beaten track since then. People were dangerous. Unless they were in large groups like this one. Apparently, people needed people to act like people. Alone, they were animals.

It was a relief not having to worry for a while, so Sophie lay back on her sleeping bag and focused on the rhythm of her own breathing. It was the most relaxed she had been in days, and she was desperate not to spend the time worrying. She fretted a great deal lately, which was hardly surprising. The frikkin’ world was ending.

Nancy, however, was full of beans, holding enthusiastic conversations with everybody she saw, pecking them on the cheeks, hugging, and telling jokes. She laughed out loud several times, which was almost an alien sound after what they’d been through. It made Sophie realise quite how much of a social creature her mother-in-law was. Sophie, on the other hand, could take or leave people in general. Especially as of late.

Nancy had been a social butterfly even before the fungus arrived, known by everyone on the estate and liked by most. Twice-weekly bingo had been the highlight of her life. Sophie, however, was as comfortable by herself as she was in company. A night in front of the telly with Ryan had always been enough for her. Perhaps that was why she was so weary now, surrounded by so many people like this. Learning forty names and smiling politely was draining.

Despite her aversion to people, a selfish voice kept whispering to Sophie that she should stay at the supermarket. She could survive here in comfort and safety – at least until the fungus inevitably arrived. Why set out on a perilous journey to find Ryan when the chances of finding him were so close to nil? She would probably die before she even made it halfway to Scotland.

Don’t think that.

The moment you think that, you lose something you can’t get back. Hope.

Sophie chided herself for her weakness. On the day Ryan had proposed – at Alton Towers of all places – she had joked about not letting him off the hook, and that she would drag him down the aisle if she had to. Ryan was a man-child – which was one of the things she loved about him – but it was time for him to grow up now. To grow old with her. She didn’t see why an apocalypse was an excuse for him not to keep his word.

I’m coming to get you, Ryan.

Because I love you.

I love the way you can’t eat baked beans without burping for an hour afterwards, and I love the way you can never pronounce ‘Worcestershire sauce’ properly, no matter how hard you try. I miss every silly thing about you, everything I used to think was annoying or childish.

While determined not to remain at the supermarket for more than a single night, Sophie would allow herself one indulgent evening. She deserved that much. She needed that much. The last eight days had felt more like seventy.

I’m trying to be strong – to take charge – but I’m not sure I can do this for much longer. The world is getting more dangerous every day. People are dangerous. It’s like the frikkin’ Hunger Games out here.

Just let it go. Just for one night.

Yeah, just for one night. It’s okay. It’s safe. Relax.

Are you safe, Ryan? I have to believe that you are.

So tired. So tired.

Her eyes were growing heavy and everything felt sluggish. She would grab a quick nap, and then afterwards she would grab a paperback from the display stand beside the tills – and a bottle of wine if they allowed her – and crawl up someplace quiet. Only a hot bath and trashy reality TV would make life any better.

Like that series on the yacht with the chef who always cooks beef cheeks.

What the hell is a beef cheek?

Before Sophie got a chance to nap, Nancy came over and disturbed her. She was eating from a giant bag of crisps, the crumbs coating her pincered fingers. “Get yourself fed,” she said as Sophie propped herself up on her elbows to face her. “Colin said we can stuff ourselves silly for tonight. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah, it seems like it.” The person in charge of the supermarket was the store’s ex-manager, a cheery soul named Colin. He had explained, upon their arrival that morning, that rationing was in effect, but that anyone who made it in from the road could have a little extra on their first night. New survivors reportedly arrived every day, and only twice had anyone been turned away. Colin refused to say why, but it was easy to read between the lines; not everyone played nice with others. Less so now than ever before. Several patched-up broken windows told stories she could easily interpret.

“Part of me wonders if we should stay here,” said Nancy in a conspiratorial tone.

Sophie sat up and hugged her knees. “I’ve been wondering that myself. What do you think?”

She appeared to think about it for a moment, then shook her head. “My boys are out there. I have to find them. I understand, though, if you want to stay. It’s safe here, and the people are decent, unlike the last place we stayed.”

“It’s not safe, Nancy. For now, maybe, but eventually trouble will find this place.”

“You’re such a cynic, Sophie. They’re making the best of it here, so can’t you at least wish them the best?”

“Perhaps you’re right. All the same, I don’t want to stay here. I love Ryan, just like you do. Enough that I’d rather die than be without him.” She shook her head and tittered. “That was a bit dramatic, wasn’t it?”

Nancy shrugged. “Love is love. I used to think you were a bit stuck-up, that you wanted to change Ryan into something he wasn’t, but I know now that he was lucky to find you. You’re focused. You don’t get distracted.”

“Thanks, I think. Look. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, Nancy, but it’s nice not to be alone in this.”

“I agree.” Nancy rolled up the crisp packet and put the remains in her pocket. She leant back against a breadcrumb-covered shelving unit and folded her arms. Then she let out a long sigh. “I keep thinking about all the people I’ll probably never see again. All my friends, my family – even the postman. I keep imaging who’s alive and who’s dead. It’s morbid, I know, but I fall asleep every night listing the people I don’t think will survive this. Like Frizzy Lizzie at the end of the road. She has no one: no kids or grandkids. She’s outlived all her friends. I can’t think of a way she won’t die alone in that old bungalow of hers. That’s if she’s not dead already. It breaks my heart.”

“I keep thinking about my mum and dad,” said Sophie. “That last phone call I had with them before the lines went dead… They were hiding out at my brother’s house in Kent. I have no idea if they’re okay.” The news reports had shown most of the South under attack by strange monsters – misshapen people covered in a dark green fungus – and had warned of slug-like creatures spreading an oily, toxic substance. It was a shitshow. She shook her head ruefully. “They could be dead and I wouldn’t even know it.”

“They’re alive, dear. Of course they are. Hasn’t this place given you any hope that the world isn’t over?”

Sophie pulled a face. “Manchester’s burning, and the fungus isn’t even here yet. I can’t imagine what things are like elsewhere.”

“So don’t imagine. If you can’t be sure, why guess? Your mind will only conjure the worst.”

“I suppose so. Anyway, I’m going to take a rest, if that’s okay?” She lay back on her sleeping bag, desperate to give her mind and body a break. “Wake me up if you need me.”

But please don’t.

“Okay, dear. I’ll be in the staffroom. There’s a pool tournament going on.”

“Amazing.”

“We’ll find Ryan and Aaron, you’ll see. Try to stay positive.”

“I’ll do my best.” Sophie closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, it was dark.

Candles flickered in various places, yet away from the front windows, it was almost pitch-black. She blinked several times, trying to adjust her vision, but the most she could make out was grey shapes and splotches. Upon arriving at the supermarket, she and Nancy had been allocated a space over in the bakery – an area of the supermarket devoid of food, as freshly baked goods didn’t keep very long – but it still held a trace of that comforting smell of newly risen loaves. Several other people had beds in the bakery too; she could hear them snoring. She also heard something else. Something strange.

A tapping sound followed by a dragging sound.

Sophie sat up on top of her sleeping bag, placing her hands on the cold resin floor. The movement in the darkness was too far away to make out clearly. It was more the suggestion of movement: a shifting of shadow.

It’s probably just somebody going for a pee. None of my business.

But I could use the toilet myself. Is it okay to just get up and wander around in the dark? What are the rules?

She lay back down on her sleeping bag and tried to drift back off to sleep before the urge to pee overtook her. How long had she even been asleep? Her intention had only been to take a quick nap, but that nap had obviously turned into a marathon snooze. What time was it now? Obviously deep in the night.

I must have been shattered. Can’t say I don’t feel better, but what do I do now? Lie here until dawn? How long is that?

The movement in the shadows continued, closer now. Clearly, someone was creeping around, but again, Sophie assumed they were heading for a toilet break. Or perhaps it was some scoundrel searching for an off-the-books snack. The night owls were probably in their element now that the daily grind no longer existed. All the same, the movement and constant tapping were beginning to irk her. Not just irk, but worry. The rhythmic tapping was unsettling. Not footsteps. Something else.

But what?

Why are they tapping like that?

Sophie sat up again, hoping to make eye contact with whoever it was if they came close enough, and make them realise they were keeping her awake. Not that she could complain. She was a guest of these kind, generous people.

The mysterious night owl did indeed move closer. The shadowy form took on the shape of a person – arms, legs, and a head – except there was something not quite right. One of the arms was too long. It dragged along the ground.

What the hell?

Sophie leapt to her feet and backed away. There was a fire escape behind her, and her hip struck the horizontal bar, making a racket loud enough to stir Nancy, who was lying four feet away in her sleeping bag. “W-What are you doing, Sophie?” she asked dopily.

Sophie shushed her. “Something’s wrong.” She looked ahead, trying to get a better picture of the person in the shadows, and growing more and more anxious that something was wrong.

Then she got confirmation of her fears.

The figure stepped out of the shadows, close enough now that they could be seen in detail. The woman’s face was grossly distorted, one eye bulging with some kind of growth. Her left arm was sinewy and over a metre long.

Something glinted in the near darkness.

Sophie screamed and ducked as something sharp sliced the air over her head.

Nancy clambered out of her sleeping bag and bundled against Sophie, swearing at the top of her lungs. The two of them scurried away, screaming and trying to find a path through the various displays and people taking up the floor.

“Help!” Sophie cried out. “It’s one of them. One of the monsters.”

Torches and lighters flicked on. Voices in the shadows complained as sleepers were woken without warning. Several voices were anxious, nerves already frayed by the unfolding apocalypse. They called out for loved ones or whimpered in fright, all the while unaware that a creature stalked them in the dark.

The fungus is in Manchester. I knew it was only a matter of time.

A man rose from a nearby cot bed, demanding quiet. He shone a torch, trying to work out what was happening. The infected woman turned on him, mumbling incoherently, and then lashing out with a long, twisted talon. The man screeched in agony, terror rising out of him in a whirlwind as he cried out, “My eyes. I can’t see. I can’t see!”

Nancy put a hand on Sophie’s back. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing good lasts.” She grunted. “Not any more.”

“The fungus is here?”

“Yes.”

More torches switched on throughout the supermarket, their light shafts bobbing up and down in the aisles as people raced around trying to locate the cause of the furore. Once enough people reached the bakery, the area lit up and the infected person showed themselves to all. Sophie recognised the woman. They hadn’t spoken, but she had been sweeping the floors when Nancy and Sophie had arrived at the supermarket. She hadn’t been infected then. She was definitely infected now.

Or maybe she was infected this morning. People lie. They get scared.

And scared means stupid.

“Cathy?” said Colin, appearing from the aisles. He had a set of keys jangling on his belt and a heavy-duty torch in his hand. He still wore the shirt and trousers he had on during the day. “Cathy? My God.”

“She’s infected,” someone shouted. “Get rid of her!”

“She’s going to kill us all,” someone else yelled.

“Somebody tie her up.”

“No, stay back. She’s dangerous.”

“She was fine earlier. What happened?”

Sophie looked left and right, witnessing the terror on people’s faces. They hadn’t encountered an infected person until now, and they clearly hadn’t expected to now because most wore pyjamas and slippers. Their simple lives had flipped upside down, and no one was brave enough to do something about it.

I’m not brave enough either. What the hell do we do?

The man who’d been slashed in the face fell to his knees and groped around blindly. Both eyes oozed bloody fluids down his pallid cheeks.

Cathy lashed out again, this time slicing a teenage girl on the cheek. The small blonde squealed and collapsed backwards into the arms of an older woman who might have been her mother.

People’s shock turned to panic.

Everyone scattered, fleeing into the aisles. Only a few remained to deal with Cathy, who continued to attack, slicing at people’s arms and torsos as they attempted to dodge her. The wounded wailed and screamed, clutching at their ragged wounds.

Were they infected now? Was that how it worked?

I thought the last two weeks were bad. This is a nightmare.

Colin leapt forward and struck Cathy in the skull with his torch. Blood and green gore clouded the air, much of it getting on his face and shirt. Cathy screeched in pain but then grabbed him tightly around the waist with her human arm. Then she bit into his neck like something out of a zombie movie. Wailing in pain, Colin shoved the woman away and smashed his torch against her skull a second time. A massive gash opened up in her temple and she fell to the floor, dead. Glistening fat bugs leaked from her bulging left eyeball and scuttled beneath the shelving displays. Were they the bugs the news had warned people about?

The spreaders.

Sophie grabbed Nancy by the arm. “We have to get out of here.”

“What do you mean? It’s the middle of the night and these people need help.”

“No. These people are about to turn nasty. Their little paradise just got destroyed, and who do you think they’re going to blame for that?”

“What? This has nothing to do with us. We’re not infected.”

Sophie hissed. “Use your frikkin’ head, Nancy. These people have been living here for a week, detached from reality. They had a good thing going, but now an infected person is running around killing them. Who do you think they’re going to take their anger out on? Themselves, or the newbies?”

Nancy deflated. She was a smart enough woman, and had seen enough in the last few days, to know how people behaved when they were afraid and angry.

“Get your things,” said Sophie quietly. “Then grab as much food and water as you can.”

“We can’t steal from these people, Sophie.”

“Wake up! These people don’t deserve this food any more than we do. They didn’t pay for it. They didn’t produce it. They just decided it was theirs. Now we’re doing the same.”

“But– ”

“This place was an illusion, Nancy. Nowhere is safe now. We both know it.”

Colin hadn’t moved since caving in Cathy’s skull – he was just staring down at her and panting – but when he saw Sophie and Nancy gathering their things, he turned and pointed at them. “You did this.”

Sophie glanced at Nancy and rolled her eyes. “Told you. If we don’t get out of here now, they’re going to string us up.”

Colin stepped towards them, the broken, gore-covered torch still in his hand. “You brought the fungus here. You killed Cathy.”

Sophie glanced at the woman’s broken skull. “I think you had something to do with that, mate. Look, we’re leaving, okay? Just let us go and you’ll never see us again.”

A small group of people were standing nearby. They found their voices now that Cathy had been dealt with. “Get them, Colin,” one of them shouted. “They need to pay for this.”

“I told you we shouldn’t let new people in.”

“You can’t trust strangers, Colin. We all told you.”

“I’m infected,” someone cried out from the aisle. “I can feel it. God, please help me.”

Sophie glanced aside, trying to find something that might help her. All she owned was her sleeping bag and the large backpack sitting beside it – a large green canvas sack with stretchy webbing and multiple pockets that she had stolen from a branch of the Salvation Army.

Because I needed salvation.

Like I do now.

Her pack was filled with food and water but little else – nothing that could help this situation – but then she saw, of all things, a golf club propped up against a stack of nearby shelves. Someone must have taken it to use as a weapon.

If I can just reach it, maybe I can defend myself.

These people are going to attack. I can feel the blood boiling in their veins. They won’t face the truth, that this was always going to happen.

Sophie put her hands up and started edging towards the golf club. “We didn’t do this,” she protested. “I don’t know how Cathy got infected, but Nancy and I are both clean. We haven’t even seen the fungus.”

“We were doing okay.” Colin thrust the bloody torch at her angrily. His shirt had come untucked and his gut spilled over his belt. “Everything was fine until you arrived.”

Sophie shielded her eyes, continuing to edge towards the golf club. “I get that, but I think you’re infected now, Colin. You need to take care of your neck. It’s bleeding. Do you have any bleach or something else to clean the wound with? You might be able to kill the infection before it takes hold.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“No,” she admitted. “I’m pretty much going off what I’ve seen in the movies. But it makes sense, right? An infected person just chowed down on your neck. Whatever was inside Cathy is now inside you. We need to do something before it’s too late.”

“Oh God,” said a tall, wispy-haired man standing nearby. “Colin, if you’re infected, you need to leave, right now. Give me your keys.”

Colin turned and redirected his stuttering torchlight. Blood soaked the collar of his light-coloured shirt where his neck was bleeding. “I’m not leaving you in charge of this place, Tom. No way in hell.”

“You’re not the boss of us, Colin. Give me your keys and leave. You’re dangerous.”

“I’m not handing anything over. You’re only here because I let you in. Besides, I’m not even infected.”

“Yes, you are. Cathy bit you.”

“Why are you listening to her? She doesn’t know anything.”

“Because he wants to be in charge,” said someone near the back. “He’s always had it in for you, Colin.”

“No, he doesn’t,” said someone else. “Tom just wants what’s best. Look what’s happened because of Colin.”

Sophie sighed. It appeared not everyone at the supermarket was friends. Resentments were spilling out. And it had only been a matter of days. This place had been a firework waiting to go off.

The man named Tom stepped forward. “You’re going to turn into a monster like Cathy. Colin, you need to leave, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll have to take care of you.”

“Step away from me, Tom.”

But Tom kept on approaching. He had both hands out in front of him and looked ready to pounce. “Colin, there’s still a chance to make this place safe again, but I need you to give me the keys and leave in peace. I’ll give you some supplies. Whatever you need.”

“Get away from me, Tom. Who the hell do you even think you are?”

A woman came racing around the corner. It was the mother of the girl who had been sliced on the cheek. “Emily’s hurt. Colin, I need the first aid kit from your office.”

“Not now, Sarah.”

“Colin, please. Her face won’t stop bleeding.” She rushed towards him. “Just give me your keys and–”

Colin flinched and struck out at the woman. It appeared instinctive, a fearful reaction rather than something intended. The back of his hand caught the woman hard on the side of the head and sent her tumbling into a nearby shelving unit. She bounced off it and slumped to the ground, before crawling away, sobbing.

“What the hell?” Tom leapt forward and grappled with Colin. “What are you doing, you maniac?”

The two men fought.

Sophie seized the opportunity to grab the golf club. It felt good in her hand. She shoved Nancy in the back and got her moving. “Get our backpacks.”

Nancy nodded and went to do as she was told.

Colin yelled out as he struggled with Tom. “They’re getting away. Stop them.”

“Damn it.” Sophie leapt forward with the golf club, but she didn’t swing it at Colin. Instead, she dodged over to Cathy and took a swing at her misshapen skull. Infected brain matter exploded everywhere in front of her, sending Tom and Colin leaping out the way.

Sophie held the gore-soaked club out in front of her, wiggling it back and forth. “One whack from this, and it’s all over. Double bogey, or whatever it is they say.” She shook her head and moaned. She had never had to trash talk before. “Just back off.”

Colin was a picture of fury, but Tom turned white as a sheet and started checking himself over. The half-dozen spectators stepped back, eying the globs of possibly infectious gore staining the floor.

Sophie put a hand on Nancy’s arm. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“What about our stuff?”

“Leave it.”

“But–”

“I said leave it. Now move.”

They sidled towards the supermarket’s entrance. Sophie had seen several people slide the glass doors to and fro earlier in the day to get outside, but did they lock them at night? If they did, then she and Nancy were trapped.

Torchlight bounced off the ceiling, shafts of white and yellow cutting through the darkness. In the catacombs of the aisles, people yelled out and sobbed. Others shouted aggressively.

Colin pursued Sophie and Nancy, along with a small group of others. Tom came too, keeping his distance.

There was movement ahead, over by the entrance.

Shit. We’re penned in at both ends.

This isn’t going to end well.

Sophie waggled the club again and warned everyone to stay back. It brought her and Nancy enough time to reach the entrance, which was two sets of glass double doors and a large carpeted ‘airlock’ between them stacked full of trolleys. The inside set of doors was open, but the outer one was closed.

The teenage girl with the bleeding cheek sat inside the airlock, slumped against the glass window. In the moonlight, her bleeding wound appeared jet-black against her lily-white skin. She stared at the floor in a daze.

Colin caught up and shined his blood-stained torch directly in Sophie’s face. “The doors are locked. You’re not going anywhere.”

Sophie covered her eyes with one arm and waved the club with the other. “Stay back, Colin. I won’t warn you again.”

“If I’m infected, like you claim I am, then you can’t hurt me with that, can you? I can just take it from you.”

“You can try. More likely is that I’ll drive your goddamn nuts out through your arsehole. Want to risk it?”

Colin sneered, but he kept his distance. “I let you in here,” he ranted. “Fed you. Welcomed you.”

“And we appreciate it,” said Nancy, trembling beside Sophie. “Please, just let us go.”

“You’re not leaving,” said Tom. “You brought the infection inside. People are hurt because of you. Look at Emily. Look at what you’ve done.”

Sophie glanced at the shell-shocked teenager and estimated her to be fifteen or sixteen. Would she soon become a twisted, mindless creature like Cathy? The infection bending and breaking her until nothing human remained? It was a cruel fate for a kid. For anyone.

I don’t know anything for certain. She might be okay.

She might be fine.

“I’m sorry,” said Sophie, glancing at Colin. “You were kind to us, and I wish none of this had happened, but it wasn’t Nancy and me who did this. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Cathy must have got infected some other way.”

“Pull the other one,” said Tom. “You two must have brought it in with you. What other explanation could there be?”

“Open your eyes,” Sophie yelled. The club trembled in her hands. Her heart pounded in her ears. Nancy was silent beside her. “Do we look infected to you? We’re both fine.”

“Take off your clothes,” someone yelled from the back of the small mob. “You could be covered in the stuff for all we know.”

“We didn’t infect Cathy,” Nancy protested. “Please, don’t do this. You’re scaring us.”

“You should be scared,” said Tom. “You’re going to pay for this.”

“Think about what you’re doing,” said Sophie. She heard the fear in her voice and tried to disguise it. “You can’t take any of this back, not once you go too far. It’s a one-way street that doesn’t lead anywhere good, but there’s still time to do the right thing. Let us go.”

“No,” said Colin. “You need to answer for what you’ve done. Cathy was infected because of you. She was my friend, and I… You made me do what I did.”

Sophie shook her head and sighed, realising that there was no way this wouldn’t end in a fight. Reason and logic were no longer in the building.

“It was the cat,” came a voice. It was Emily, the teenage girl sitting in the airlock.

Everyone frowned and looked at her, confused by what she’d said. Colin shined his torch into the airlock. “What are you talking about?”

The girl spoke again. “Cathy was getting some fresh air out in the car park this morning. There was a cat, a ginger one. It was skinny, so Cathy wanted to bring it inside to feed it, but when she tried picking it up, it scratched her.”

“That doesn’t mean it was infected,” said Colin.

“It was probably just feral,” added Tom.

Emily shook her head. “It was diseased, I saw it, and Cathy started feeling unwell right afterwards, an hour before these two women even arrived. Later, she asked me to take over sweeping the floors for her and went to bed. That was the last time I saw her.”

Sophie used her eyes to plead with Colin. “You see? This wasn’t us. Can we just get our things and go?”

“We don’t want any trouble,” said Nancy.

Colin cleared his throat. His anger had gone, but he appeared undecided about what to do next. His neck glistened with blood, and while it might have been Sophie’s imagination, she swore she could see things writhing around in the wound.

“Colin!”

Everyone turned towards the newsagent’s area set off beside the entrance. A man stormed towards them from the direction of the tills. A woman hurried two steps behind him. Sophie didn’t know the man, but the woman was Emily’s mother. Her swollen eye was visible even at a distance. Colin had clocked her a good ’un.

Colin turned his torchlight on the newcomer and took a defensive stance. “John? What do you want?”

“Sarah said you hit her. Is that true?”

“Well, yes, but…”

“You goddamn woman-beater.” John ran at Colin, fists raised. At the same time, Tom hopped forward and snatched at the man’s keys. A scuffle broke out as Colin defended himself against both attacker and thief.

Emily’s mother hurried over to her daughter and gathered her to her feet. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go get your face looked at.”

“I’m scared, Mum.”

“I know, sweetheart. Me too. Come on now. This way.”

Sophie watched, dumbfounded, as the mother took her daughter away while three men fought like drunkards. Had this been inevitable? Would men always find excuses to fight over pride and power? It was ridiculous. Was life not difficult enough?

If only women had been in charge, maybe this whole world would have been a better place.

Before Emily disappeared with her mother, the girl turned back and shouted. “The door release is inside a panel on the wall. You have to turn it really hard.”

Sophie nodded her thanks, wishing she could help the girl who had exonerated her, but knowing that she couldn’t. It wasn’t definite that she was infected, but it would make sense. This fungus was spreading somehow, creating diseased monsters and transforming the landscape. It seemed to pollute everything it touched.

She wondered if Ryan had encountered anyone infected.

Or become infected himself.

Don’t think it. He’s fine. He has to be.

Nancy hurried into the airlock. Sophie followed her and located a small metal panel on the wall beside the doors. She yanked it open and found a black plastic knob inside. It took effort, but she managed to rotate it one hundred and eighty degrees. A clunk sounded, signalling the unlocking of the doors.

Open sesame.

Nancy peeled open one of the doors and let in the fresh air. The nights had grown chilly, and Sophie considered going back to get their sleeping bags and backpacks, but there was no guarantee she would make it out again. Anarchy had erupted inside the supermarket. John was kicking Colin in the chest while the man cowered on the floor. Tom had disappeared, probably with the supermarket’s keys. Dozens of people yelled hysterically.

Sophie sighed. “The supermarket is now closed. Please drive safely.”

Nancy frowned. “What?”

“Nothing. Come on.” They stepped out between the sliding glass doors and both paused beneath the building’s overhanging roof. It was a relief to get out of the dark, stuffy catacombs of the supermarket aisles, and the moon was like a friendly face watching over them. The building had been different at night than it had been by day. That was true for most places, she supposed.

After a minute, the two of them got going, strolling towards the car park in silence, neither having anything to say about the chaos they were leaving behind. The supermarket had appeared a genuine respite from the horror, but it had been hiding the darkest of threats.

People who still had something to lose.

Something moved ahead, darting out from beneath an abandoned SUV. It was the style of car Sophie had once dreamed of owning herself – something she could pile full of camping gear in anticipation of exploring the countryside’s secrets with Ryan. Now, she would be happy never to have to sleep outside again.

“It’s a cat,” said Nancy, referring to the shadow scurrying towards them.

“It’s the cat,” said Sophie, noticing its tail was three times longer than it should have been. A razor-sharp tip glinted in the moonlight like a scorpion’s stinger.

The diseased feline hopped onto the pavement and bounded right towards them. Sophie leapt forward and swung her golf club. The thick metal head struck the creature right beneath the breast and launched it into the air. It landed in the carpark fifteen feet away and didn’t rise again.

“Good shot,” said Nancy, grimly.

“Thanks.” Sophie weighed up the gore-stained club in her hands, enjoying the feel. For weeks, she had feared violence, trying to avoid it at every turn. She saw now that it was a tool. One she would need to get better at using.

I’m going to have to do things I never thought I would. The old rules don’t exist. Pretty soon, the old me won’t either.

I just hope I’m strong enough to face what I have to become.

The two of them headed across the car park, Sophie now more confident than she had been that morning when they’d arrived at the supermarket. The sleep had done her good. Now she just needed to find food, water, shelter, and –

Ryan. I need to find Ryan.

Now…

Four miles from Edinburgh, the night sky was a vast black cloth hanging over the Earth. The moon was a dull, moth-eaten tennis ball. Three months ago, Aaron wouldn’t have appreciated the majesty of a clear night sky like this, but now, with the world on the brink of total destruction, he couldn’t help but take in its majesty. While not as breathtaking as the frigid wilderness of the Highlands, the grassy glen spread out before him – and the sheer rock face rising behind him – was a reminder of what humanity had once selfishly discarded. Nature, in its unadulterated form, was a gift for which they had all been found undeserving.

“Yoo okay, Little English?” Cameron Pollock, fuzzy-headed, and with a scruffy ginger beard rapidly growing out, nodded at Aaron as the two of them stood atop the lookout platform. Both of them wore thick jumpers and scarves. “Something chewing at yer brain?”

Aaron gazed out across the moonlit glen, studying the white shapes of the sheep and the dark splurges of the cows. His cheap plastic watch read midnight, but time was barely important any more. Every minute was the same: sixty monotonous seconds followed by sixty more. “I’m just enjoying the fresh air,” he mumbled in reply.

Cameron closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath as if to join him. The big Scot carried an SA80, provided to him by the armed forces, which were based in the Scottish capital. Aaron sported a lightweight .22 rimfire rifle that had likely belonged to a farmer’s grandson or daughter. He would have preferred something heavier – something deadlier – but the soldiers had baulked at his age when he’d admitted to being only fifteen. Fortunately, even kids got weapons these days, and so the lightweight rifle was now his, an extension of himself as he grew more and more used to having it in his hands.

Three months ago, I’d never even seen a rifle except for on Call of Duty.

Cameron exhaled, rolling his brawny shoulders. He’d slimmed down a little since leaving Choirikell, but that only exposed his muscles more. “There’ll be time enough to enjoy the fresh air, Little English, once we win this war.”

Aaron sighed. “This isn’t a war, it’s an invasion. How can we ever win?”

“We’re breathing, ain’t we? Be grateful fer that much, at least.”

Aaron didn’t feel grateful, but he didn’t want Cameron on his case for the rest of the night, so he forced a smile and nodded. “I’m just having a moan. Makes life bearable.”

“Aye. Ye nae need to tell a Scot that. We invented whingeing.” He turned to peer down at the settlement behind them. Culdrake hadn’t existed three months ago, and where a three-mile mesh fence now stood had been nothing but rocky meadow. Where two hundred tents sat, there had been an open field. Culdrake had grown rapidly through necessity, but its existence brought Aaron little comfort. All he saw was three thousand people soon to be dead. There was no fighting the fungus. It was everywhere.

Ryan never even made it out of Choirikell. His ashes are still there in the rubble.

Why am I still alive? What’s the point?

Cameron was staring at him, his brow furrowed. “Think less, lad. Yer’ll be glad of it.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Your advice is to think less?”

“Never done me no harm.”

Aaron was about to speak to the contrary, but he spotted movement in the glen. He raised his rifle and peered along the iron sights. When he saw it was only a buzzard or kestrel swooping towards some unseen prey, he relaxed. It was always nice to see uninfected birds. There were fewer and fewer lately.

“Like I said,” Cameron huffed, “ye worry too much. Wound tighter than a porn star’s cock ring, ye are. Makes me tense just looking at ye.”

Aaron felt pressure in his chest and it rose out of his mouth. “Don’t you think I have a right to be a little stressed out? Three months ago, my biggest worry was the ping rate on my broadband. Now, two-thirds of the world is covered in green sludge and we’re standing out here in the cold trying to convince ourselves we can do a goddamn thing about it. It’s pointless. Everything is pointless.”

Cameron was silent for a moment, his rifle hanging from its strap and aimed at the floor. The wind agitated his beard, making it appear to be knitted from fine red worms. Eventually, he sniffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Ryan didn’t think so.”

Aaron almost raised his rifle, a spark of rage shooting up the back of his neck and demanding violent release. “Don’t act like you know a single thing about my brother. You couldn’t even stand him.”

Cameron slowly shook his head. “It were myself I could nae stand, Little English. Yer brother was a good fella and I’m sad he’s gone – we all are – but that nae means we can toss our socks in the basket and give up. Long as I’m breathing, I’m gunna kick some arse and have fun doing it. That’s all there is.”

“Have fun? Are you serious?”

“Aye. Deadly.”

Aaron shook his head and turned away. He studied the encampment behind them, bodies creeping back and forth in the dark. The lookout platform was thirty feet high, one of two dozen similar structures built along the mesh fence, and accessed by rickety ladders. There was also a fort built atop the steep precipice behind Culdrake. The camp was designed to protect those within. A bulwark, Commander Fox called it.

But really it’s a place for men to die.

At the edge of the glen, a wide ditch had been dug out with construction equipment. The killing zone between the moat and the fence was soaked daily with bleach, ammonia, and other alkaline substances. Miles of barbed wire snaked through the weeds. At night, hundreds of solar lights illuminated the glen – most taken from garden centres and sheds throughout Edinburgh. A large diesel-powered spotlight brightened the camp itself, and if anything got too close, Culdrake’s fighters would be ready with flamethrowers and flaming torches.

The tactics had worked so far, yet each attack during the last several weeks had tested the camp more, pushed people a little harder. The most recent crisis, four days ago, had caused eight deaths. Infected birds and rats were the biggest problem.

There were three other camps like Culdrake dotted east and west around Edinburgh, along with a small team tasked with laying waste to the north-west to contain the fungus creeping out of Choirikell. It was a lot of land covered by not many people.

And all it does is buy us time.

Time to stand around waiting. Thinking.

Cameron looked as though he was going to say something, but the top of the ladder rattled, heralding the imminent arrival of a visitor. They stood and waited until Boon appeared. The sergeant was in charge of Cameron and Aaron’s troop – three dozen survivors from Choirikell tasked with guarding this section of fence. Fiona, Helen, and Ed were also members of the troop, but they were currently sleeping.

Boon clambered onto the scaffolding and gave them a friendly nod. She was a plain-looking woman, but her constant smile was alluring, as were her pointed canines that almost resembled fangs. “All right, lads? How goes the watch?”

Cameron shrugged. “Nowt to report besides the cold. Could murder a brew.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to go fetch you one.”

“Course not, Sarge. Wouldn’t even think it.”

She smirked, flashing those canines. “You’ll be off duty in an hour, Cam. I’m sure you can wait that long.” She turned her head. “You okay, Aaron?”

He shrugged, failing to meet her stare. “Sound. Any word from Edinburgh?”

“The city’s still clean and new survivors are filtering in daily. Good news.”

“And how many of those survivors are infected?” asked Aaron.

“About eighty per cent.” Boon’s tone remained even, despite the grimness of her answer. “The capital deals with infected survivors the same way we do – there’s no other option – but what matters is the twenty per cent of people who are healthy.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “Glad to have ’em. If they’ve been surviving out here on their own, they’re the kind of tough bastards we need.”

“Our enemy is an alien fungus,” said Aaron. “We need scientists, not soldiers.”

“I’ll take whatever I can get. Any news on Tom? I hate to say it, but I miss the posh sod.”

“Last I heard, he’s still helping with logistics in the capital. I’ll reach out to him if you want me to.”

“Nah,” said Aaron. “He wants to be left alone.”

Tom had requested to work in Edinburgh when the rest of them had been sent to Culdrake. Aaron knew it was guilt keeping him there. Guilt about surviving when Ryan, a better man, had survived. He had promised to join them later, but later had arrived and he was still in the city.

“Aye, leave him be,” said Cameron. “Let sleeping dogs lie. Sure we’ll cross paths again soon enough.”

“Agreed,” said Boon. She glanced over the safety rail at the glen below. The livestock were rattled tonight, bleating and mooing constantly. Enclosed in paddocks attached to the fence, they could be brought inside quickly if an attack came.

Boon turned back towards the ladder. “I’ll leave you men to it. Just wanted to check in before I turn in for the night.”

“Let us know if ye want some company,” said Cameron, a crooked smile on his face.

Aaron rolled his eyes and groaned.

Boon turned back, her expression plain. “This might be the end of the world, but I’m not that desperate.”

Even in the dark, Cameron’s blushing was visible. He clearly wasn’t so tough when it came to the ladies. “Aye. Well, there’s still time, eh?”

Boon allowed herself to smile. “Goodnight, gentlemen.”

“Goodnight, Sergeant,” said Aaron, even managing a chuckle. It felt wrong to feel anything positive, so he cut it off right away.

Once Boon had disappeared back down the ladder, Cameron scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “She’s quite a lass, aye?”

“You’ve got no chance, mate.”

“Nae say never, Little English. God loves a trier.”

“There is no God.”

Cameron threw back his head and groaned. “Slice me neck, it’s like being on guard duty with a blind duck. All ye do is quack-quack-quack. Listen, lad, if it’s all too much, then toss yer bum over the rail and be done wi’it. Nae one’s forcing ye to be here, eh?”

“I don’t want to kill myself, Cameron.”

“Then quit yer grumbling. It’ll nae make anything better.”

Aaron wanted to argue, but his words caught in his throat. His eyes filled with tears. It came from nowhere, but suddenly he was having to hold back sobs.

Cameron saw Aaron’s frailty and let out a sigh. “Look, I know yer going through some–”

Aaron shoved him. “Shut up!”

Cameron staggered backwards against the rail, taken by surprise. He cursed, as confused as he was angry. “Ye mad bastard!”

“Fuck you.” Aaron hit Cameron in the guts with his rifle stock. It was an insane, undeserved act, yet Aaron was no longer in control of himself. There was a hole in his chest and rage was leaking out of it like stale air from a balloon. He beat at Cameron with his fist, consumed by rage.

Cameron bellowed. “Have yer lost yer goddamn heid, ye wee bawbag? Calm doon.”

“Fuck you!”

“Calm doon, will ye?” Cameron used his own rifle to whack Aaron in the shoulder. The pain was immense, but Aaron was too out of control to back off, too outside of his body to stop. He threw a punch, but Cameron grabbed his arm and pinned it to his side. He let his rifle hang by the strap so he could free up his other hand to grab Aaron’s other arm.

Aaron thrashed, trying to free himself. “Just fucking kill me,” he yelled. “Do it! Throw me over the rail.”

“Come ’ere, ye dopey sod.” Cameron wrapped his massive arms around Aaron’s body and squeezed him. For a moment, he thought the big Scot was going to crush the life out of him, but then he felt a hand rubbing at his back. “Let it oot. It’s better that way, trust me.”

Aaron squirmed and spat fury. He threatened to kill Cameron, said he hated him. He raged about his brother and wept for his mam. Minutes passed before that rage finally turned into quiet sobs. The anger slowly drained away, like pus from a wound.

“Ye done?” asked Cameron, still holding him in a bear hug. “Yer lucky I didnae feed ye to the greens.”

“You should have.”

“Dinnae be soft. Ye might nae have yer brother or yer mam, but I’m here for ye, eh? We all are. Fiona, Helen, Boon.” He eased Aaron back and looked him in the face. “I wish I were good with words, but I cannae say it clearer than this: stop being a jessie and cheer up. This be bonny Scotland, where men are men. Time to grow up.”

Aaron wanted to punch Cameron’s face, but all he did was moan pitifully.

“That’s it. Let it oot. Nowt else to do.”

So Aaron let it out. For ten minutes, the two of them stood there, embracing while Aaron forced a jagged stone out of his chest. Faces of those he’d lost haunted him – his brother, Chloe, Miles, Loobey, Sean, Brett, and so many others. He tried to picture a future without them, and it only made him sob harder. The only thing that kept him from tossing himself over the railing, like Cameron had suggested, was picturing the faces of those he was yet to lose – like the big tough Scot currently holding him like a child.

“I’m just a kid,” said Aaron, his voice thick with phlegm. “I can’t do this any more.”

“Aye, I hear ye. But there’s nae changing it, is there? Got to keep on keeping on.”

The ladder rattled. Someone started to climb it.

Aaron broke free of Cameron’s arms and wiped at his face. A minute later, Ed McCulloch appeared on the platform. A blue beanie covered his head right down to his eyebrows, and he had grown out a patchy blonde beard that made his face look grubby. He eyed Cameron and Aaron suspiciously. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Mind yer own,” said Cameron.

“I’ve got the snots,” said Aaron, wiping his nose with the back of his arm. “Probably got a cold coming on.” He checked his watch. “Anyway, what are you doing up here? You ain’t on for another half-hour.”

Ed eyed them both a moment longer before shrugging. “I were restless. Thought I’d start my shift a wee bit early.”

Cameron clapped his hands together and grinned. “Grand. I’m off to get a brew.”

Ed looked apologetically towards Aaron. “Boon will kick off if you both leave. Eoin will be on his way soon.”

“It’s fine,” said Aaron. “I’m in no rush to sleep.”

When he slept, Ryan was still alive and their mam was with them. Then he would wake up.

I have nightmares when I’m awake and peace when I’m asleep.

Cameron moved towards the ladder. “I’ll catch up with yoo lads later, eh? Enjoy the cold.”

“Aye,” said Ed. “If you see Eoin on your way, tell him to get a m– Hey!” He looked towards the sky. “What’s that?”

Something swooped across the platform and struck Ed right in the face. He recoiled, shotgun clattering against the railing and discharging. The explosive bark echoed in the glen. Cows mooed. Sheep baaed.

Cameron dropped into a crouch and aimed his SA80.

Aaron used his .22 as a club, swinging at the dark shape flapping around Ed’s head. The blow connected and the shadow fell to the floor. Immediately, he struck it again with his rifle’s stock, obliterating its tiny bones.

It was a bird, something large and brown and clearly infected. One of its legs was missing, a razor-tipped tendril in its place. Fuzzy green growths covered its head and body. Aaron struck the bird again.

Ed clutched his face, screaming. He was bleeding, but it wasn’t the blood that terrified him. It was the fact he was infected. “It got me. It got me!”

Cameron raced across the platform and opened up a cooler placed to one side. It was filled with equipment such as binoculars, first aid supplies, and flares. Cameron pulled out a large orange bottle full of drain cleaner and poured some into his cupped hand before dousing Ed’s face and frantically reassuring him. “Nae ye worry, lad. I’ve got ye. Yer fine.”

“I’m infected. I’m infected.”

“Calm doon. Yer fine, lad.”

Aaron collapsed back against the railing, heart pounding in his chest. The attack had come out of nowhere. How did they not see it?

By now, commotion swelled in the camp below as people reacted to the screaming and the shotgun blast. From one of the other platforms, an air horn blew. Two blasts. The code for an aerial attack. People started gathering the livestock inside. Others lit torches. Most lined up against the fences, ready for a fight.

Aaron looked up at the sky and saw dozens of shadows swooping towards Culdrake. Usually, you could spot the infected birds coming a mile off, even in the dark.

But I was too busy flying off the handle at Cameron and crying like a baby.

This is my fault.

I fucked up.

Aaron ducked in time to avoid a kestrel’s talons. The bird of prey swooped across the platform and collided with Ed’s throat, knocking him backwards towards the ladder, where there was no safety railing. In less than a second, he was gone.

Cameron rushed to the ladder but turned back a moment later, the colour gone from his face. Without a word, he pointed his rifle and started firing.

Aaron’s .22 was useless for hitting the birds already at the platform, so he continued using it as a club, knocking them out of the sky like cricket balls. One slice from a talon spelled the end, but there was no point worrying over it. While amputation saved a few people – as did soaking fresh wounds with bleach – in the heat of battle, there was no time for such measures. You fought or you died.

Cameron peppered the air with ear-piercing 5.56mm rounds and drained his magazine. Then he followed Aaron’s lead and started using his rifle as a club. More black shadows swooped from the sky, winged beasts of corrupted flesh.

A high-pitched siren erupted from the centre of Culdrake. When intel had come from the capital that high-pitched sounds could kill infected birds, men from the Royal Signals had tuned a speaker stack to its uppermost frequency. It was the only thing that protected the camp from aerial attacks, but it relied upon guards doing their jobs and sounding off a warning in time.

The birds dropped out of the sky like stones. Gunshots roared below, soldiers firing round after round into the sky. Cameron stamped on a flabby gull that landed on their platform and it ruptured beneath his boot. He grabbed Aaron by the arm. “Sounds like they’ve got their hands full down there. Come on.”

Cameron moved towards the ladder, but Aaron didn’t follow, so he turned back, confused. “Come on, Little English, there’s fighting to be done. Sounds like there’s more than just the birds to deal with.”

Aaron turned his back and went over to the opposite railing. He considered tossing himself over into the glen below and being done with it. Every attack was worse than the last, so why bother trying to survive? Eventually, they were all going to die.

We’re only delaying the inevitable.

The only thing Aaron wanted was his mam, even if she was dead. He wanted to see her face one last time, to say goodbye and tell her about Ryan. He also needed to deliver Ryan’s letter to Sophie.

I promised I would.

“Fer fuck’s sake,” said Cameron. “I’ll see ye doon there, eh?” He disappeared down the ladder to join the fighting below. Aaron stared off across the glen and wondered how long it would take to walk to Manchester.

Chapter Two

Aaron hadn’t slept. No one in camp had. The attack last night had been severe, mostly conducted by infected birds. There had also been a breach on the eastern side of the camp where a pack of foxes had burrowed beneath the fence. The chemical boundary must have drained away somewhere and allowed the animals past the moat.

Eighteen people had died or become infected – the worst loss yet. Aaron had known only a few of the casualties personally, but the first victim had been Ed McCulloch. The Highlands lad had been only slightly older than Aaron, and even luckier to make it out of Choirikell alive. Last night, his luck had run out.

Because of me. He’s dead because of me.

Aaron and Cameron had neglected their lookout duties. If they’d responded just ten seconds earlier, the sirens might have sounded in time to keep the birds from reaching the fence. Aaron saw the guilt on Cameron’s face every time they made eye contact.

He shouldn’t blame himself. If I hadn’t lost control of myself, he wouldn’t have been distracted.

Sergeant Boon marched back and forth between the tents, barking orders at tired men and women. There were no children or elderly people at Culdrake – they were all housed in Edinburgh – so everyone at the camp had a job to do. Currently, a dozen sergeants were assembling clean-up teams to go outside the fence. The clean-up teams headed out after every attack to dispose of infected corpses and reset the camp’s defences.

While only a small pack of foxes had made it inside the fence last night, there had been many other animals shot in the killing zone between the fence and moat. They would need disposing of. It was the most dangerous job in camp, so they selected people at random to do it.

Boon threw out an arm and pointed at Aaron. “You and Cameron, on me.”

“Aw feck it,” said Cameron. He looked knackered and desperate for a bed, but he didn’t argue.

“I’m not going out there,” said Aaron. He’d been on clean-up duty twice before, and both times he’d almost been infected – most recently because of a rat he had disturbed beneath a rock. It had leapt right for his neck. “It’s suicide duty.”

“It’s suicide not to do it,” said Boon. “The fungus will already be creeping its way towards the fence. We need to go out and deal with it.”

“I ain’t doing it.” Not now that I plan on getting out of here. This place is a lost cause. “It’s someone else’s turn.”

Boon winced, but it was a split-second response. Her next action was to take two steps forward and position herself right in front of Aaron. “I’m sorry, kid, but you seem to think you have a choice. I’m not asking for a favour.”

“It’s fucking pointless. What are we even doing here? Every attack, we lose people. Then we lose even more on clean-up duty. Eventually, there’ll be none of us left, so what’s the point? Honestly, tell me.”

Cameron reached out an arm. “Easy, lad.”

People in the camp had stopped to listen. Even now, people still loved a commotion. Aaron scowled. Screw ’em. If they can’t see the truth…

Boon shook her head. “I don’t believe what I’m hearing here.” She licked at her lips and folded her arms. The cuffs on her camouflage shirt rode up towards her elbows. “You want to go it alone, then be my guest, but while you take cover behind this fence, you’ll do what you’re damn well told.”

“I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours,” he argued, his anger suppressed somewhat by Boon’s baleful stare. “I was on guard duty before the attack started. Can’t you send someone who’s at least had some rest?”

Cameron cleared his throat. “I’ll grab Fiona. Let the lad rest up for a wee–”

“Quiet,” said Boon, continuing to glare at Aaron. “That’s right, isn’t it? You were on duty, so why didn’t you send out a warning? The birds made it all the way to camp without detection.”

He shrugged. “No one else caught it either.”

“And that’s why every guard from last night is going out on clean-up duty this morning. Someone fucked up, so unless you’re willing to admit it was you, everyone gets the shitty end of the stick. Well?”

Aaron considered confessing but decided the sergeant could go take a jump off the cliff behind them. But she clearly wasn’t going to back down, so he had no choice but to give in to her demands. “Fine. I’ll go outside, but next time we’re attacked, send someone else.”

If I’m still here.

Boon turned red in the face. Her fists clenched, but she slowly opened them again. “Listen, Aaron, I don’t want to fight with you, okay? Last night was a bad one, and Ed was a good kid, so I understand if you’re in a bad head space this morning.” She stopped and took a breath. She looked as tired as Aaron felt. “We’re all fighting for the same thing here, so take a few moments, give yourself a reality check, and stop acting like a moody toddler. I want you dressed and ready in ten minutes. Can you do that?”

Aaron gritted his teeth and nodded.

“Wonderful.” Boon marched away. The spectators dispersed.

Cameron grabbed Aaron by the arm and pulled him aside. “The feck is yer problem? Another sergeant might have shot ye. We’re living under military rule, if ye’ve nae noticed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, ye should care, because people were relying on us last night and we let ’em doon. I know yer struggling, but get yer heid together, will ye? Boon’s one of the good’uns. She didn’t deserve that.”

Aaron didn’t have time to reply because Cameron stormed off.

The next person he saw was Helen, bleary-eyed and swaying, the victim of too much alcohol. They rationed booze at Culdrake, yet she somehow always seemed to have a supply. “You okay?” she asked hoarsely. “Sounded like you were having a tantrum.”

“Don’t start with me, Hel.”

She gave a tiny smile, which was the most she ever managed since losing her son in Choirikell. “Dinnae piss the bed,” she said. “I reckon yer right. This place is a tragedy waiting to happen. We should all be building bunkers underground and running science experiments, not hiding behind a rickety fence and taking potshots at anything that moves. It might make everyone feel safe, but it’s a joke with a bad punchline.”

Aaron nodded, relieved to hear someone else saying it. “I’m going to leave,” he said. “I don’t care if it kills me, I just want to go home.”

She nodded. “If my boy were still alive, I would do whatever it took to get to him. Ye want to make it home to yer mam?”

“She struggled her whole life to give Ryan and me a safe place to grow up. If I’m going to die either way, then what do I have to lose by trying to make it home to her?” He shrugged. “Better than dying here.”

“A person has a right to choose how they die.”

“Exactly! And I would rather die trying to make it home than wait here, doing nothing.”

She patted him on the arm. “I’ll come with you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He couldn’t remember what colour her eyes had used to be, but they were a lifeless grey now. A tiny spark returned as she spoke. “Aye. I promised I would get ye home to yer mam, so that’s what I’m going to do. Not like I have anything else going on. Besides, I’ve nae visited Manchester before. Ye can show me the sights.”

Aaron chuckled. “It’s probably changed a lot.”

“Aye, I’ll bet it has. All the same, I need to get away from here. I’m going stir crazy.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Hopefully I won’t die outside the fence.” An air horn blasted at the main gate – a five-minute warning. “Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg.”

Aaron needed to get a move on, so he rushed off to the staging tent, which was a long marquee set up along a section of fence beside the main gate. Everyone used it for decontamination, the inside outfitted with chemical showers and scrubbing equipment. It was also where they stored the clean-up suits.

Aaron grabbed a suit from one of the hangers and started pulling it on. It wasn’t a full-on spacesuit – just thick plastic overalls, really – but along with knee-high wellingtons and a plastic visor, it afforded some measure of protection against the fungus. Before stepping out of the tent, someone sprayed Aaron with a chemical mixture, giving the suit a moist sheen.

He made it over to the main gate just in time for the air horn’s final blast. Boon eyed him disdainfully before looking away. Everyone collected water pistols filled with bleach from a nearby table – the extra-large models that would have taken pride of place on many a child’s Christmas list. Now the toys were more deadly against the enemy than a high-powered machine gun.

Cameron appeared beside Aaron and nudged him. “Got yer heid sorted?”

“I’m sound. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Aye. Ye know the drill. Stick close.”

Aaron nodded, bleach dripping from the end of his pistol. Behind him, a group of professional soldiers grabbed flamethrowers. The main gate opened. Two dozen plastic-suited men and women tramped across the muddy threshold. Aaron shivered as he passed the invisible line between the inside and outside of camp and immediately felt vulnerable. As much as he wanted to set out alone for Manchester, the fungus still terrified him. He hoped that once he left the camp and accepted his inevitable death, the dread would fall away, and that his fear would become acceptance.

The cleaners got to work, dousing bird corpses in bleach and watching them smoke. When encountering anything higher than a nine or ten on the PH scale, the fungus immediately shrivelled and turned black. The problem was that the fuzzy green growth always found its way back. It was like wiping blood off a mirror without stemming the artery causing all the mess.

Cameron raised his pistol and doused the corrupted remains of a large hawk. The high-pitched siren always did a number on the birds, perhaps because of their small brains, but it didn’t outright kill anything else. The only threat the dead birds presented now was the fungus spreading from their flesh. Even now, Aaron could see green tendrils creeping into the dirt. A handful of fat alien bugs writhed in the corpses, bred inside carapaces that formed inside the abdomen. They shrivelled up and died as soon as the bleach splashed them.

“Sodding things,” said Cameron, turning up his nose.

“It all started with these slugs,” said Aaron. “At least for me it did. They were spilling out of the corkscrew the night the fungus arrived.”

“The one ye found up at McGregor’s old cottage?”

“On the hill behind it. The night of my brother’s stag do.” He huffed. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Aye. Time’s a funny thing. I were passed oot that night in the cemetery, sleeping off a bender. I nae expected life to take a turn like this.”

Aaron raised his pistol and soaked the remains of a fox. It had a bullet hole right in the side of its head, infected brains splattered on the grass. “I never did anything with my life, you know? I always thought I would get around to it in the future, but the future turned out to be this.”

“You’re fifteen. What are you supposed to have done by now? Cured world hunger?”

Aaron squirted again, soaking a patch of fungus spreading on the ground between some jagged grey rocks. “I just could have made more of my life.”

“What is it they say about hindsight?”

“That it’s twenty-twenty?”

“Aye, whatever that means. You wanna hear something a wee bit twisted?”

Aaron shrugged. “Okay.”

Cameron seemed to consider whether to speak, but eventually he did. “This is the first time in my life I’ve actually felt like I fit in. The way things were before – getting a job, paying bills, putting the toilet seat down – I never could keep meself on the straight and narrow. Trouble always found me, even when I was trying to keep my nose clean. But now, my bad temper and lack of–

“Intelligence,” said Aaron with a small grin.

“I were gunna say social skills. My bad temper and lack of social skills are suddenly a good thing. For the first time in my life, people respect me and rely on me. God forgive us, but this life suits me far better than the old one ever did.”

Aaron couldn’t deny it was true. Cameron was much more at ease with himself than he had been in the days they had first met. “You were a warrior born in civilised times, but now we’re back in the dark ages and the world needs people like you.”

“A fine time to be alive, eh? Anyway, let’s put our backs to work. Sooner this morning ends, the better.”

“No shit.”

They got back to work, Aaron yawning as he longed for his springy cot bed. At the same time, he was buzzed. The fear of getting infected out here in the open kept him alert. He nodded up ahead. “I’m going to go up onto the rise and follow the moat along.”

The rise was the area where the glen rose up onto the escarpment that curved around Culdrake’s rear. The fort guarded it from above, but the lowest section of the rise was hard to see from above or below because of the way the ground twisted. If there had been a breach in the perimeter, it was likely to have been there. Aaron’s guilt over last night bubbled away. Now that he was outside the fence, he decided he wanted to at least be helpful.

“All right,” said Cameron, “sounds like a plan.”

They trudged across the overgrown grass, much of it yellowed or browned by the constant exposure to harmful chemicals. In many places, it was completely dead, the ground rocky or muddy. A good thing too, because the fungus could camouflage itself among long, healthy grass.

En route to the rise, they sprayed the ground whenever they found alien growth or a diseased animal corpse.

A loud spluttering sound came from Culdrake as a greasy old engine spluttered to life. The Royal Engineers were preparing to head out in the three bulldozers they used to handle biological waste. Once the cleaners advanced further, the dozers would start shoving the enemy detritus towards the moat. Then, the soldiers would use their flamethrowers to ignite everything. The moat would burn for several hours while the cleaners reset the camp’s defences. By nightfall, everyone would be back behind the fences, waiting for the next attack.

The routine of survival.

Almost at the rise, Aaron stared off into the distance. A mile and a half away, the glen descended into the lowlands where civilisation had once existed. A long walk would take you to the main roads that ran back and forth between Edinburgh and the South. England existed a mere thirty miles away, but Manchester was over two hundred. A few months ago, that distance would have been a three-hour drive. Now, it would take a long and miraculous journey to get home.

Do I really want to do this?

“Shite,” said Cameron. “What happened here?”

The fungus sprouted everywhere, making it even more likely that they had located the breach. It must have spread through a gap in the moat and then up onto the rise.

Spraying constantly, they made their way up and around the twist, to the area not easily seen by either the fort or the lookout platforms. There, they found a thick trail of fungus leading all the way back to the moat. It was everywhere.

Aaron checked his pistol’s tank and saw a third gone. He and Cameron both had plenty of bleach left, but they would need to refuel and call over reinforcements.

“This is bad,” said Cameron. “How the feck did this much get through the perimeter?”

“Who cares? It just proves my point that it isn’t safe here.”

“It’s nae safe anywhere, so why not be here? Better than being alone, eh?”

Whenever Aaron envisaged leaving, he pictured himself alone, but now that Helen had agreed to leave, he realised he desperately wanted Cameron to come too. Fiona as well. While he wanted to go and look for his last remaining family member, he had a family of sorts right here in Culdrake. He didn’t want to say goodbye to them.

If I do, I’ll never see them again.

“Hey, Cam, I need to talk to you about something.”

Cameron frowned. “Right now?”

Aaron shrugged. “No time like the present. It’s important.”

“Okay.” He sprayed the ground all around him and then stood still. “I’m all ears.”

“It’s just that I…”

He’s happy here. Don’t force him to leave.

“I…”

This is where he fits in.

“Spit it oot, lad.”

Aaron sighed. “Nothing. I’ll talk to you about it later. Let’s just…” His words trailed off as he spotted movement from near the moat. “Shit, greens.”

Greens were infected people, the most dangerous threat, with their five-foot tendrils that could whip you right in the face and infect you.

Cameron took off like a shot, trampling the fungus-covered ground and risking infection. Aaron sprayed at his feet and tried to keep up. It was unwise getting close to the greens, but their pistols only fired several metres. If they wanted to deal with the problem, they would have to get nearer.

The greens were distracted. When undisturbed, they often remained still, but these were whipping their tendrils at the ground and seemingly attacking something on the far side of the moat. Three of them in total, enough to be extremely dangerous.

“It’s been a few days,” said Cameron. “It’ll be nice to get the practice. Hey, over here, ye wankstains.” He let rip with his water pistol, pulling back on the pump and sending an arc of bleach ten feet into the air. The stream travelled four metres and rained down on the nearest green. Black smoke rose from its body, and it screeched and thrashed. It spun around frantically until it spotted Cameron and rushed forward. Cameron turned the air blue and let rip again. This time, the stream of bleach soaked the green directly on the chest, melting a hole and revealing putrid insides. The monster collapsed to the ground, quivering.

Aaron stepped forward and fired his pistol, soaking the remaining two greens with a sustained stream that he kept going by pumping the handle beneath the barrel. Within thirty seconds, all three greens were smoking on the ground. “That could have been worse,” he said.

Cameron strode over to the green he had taken care of and stamped on its skull. Black and green mush went everywhere.

“Now you’re covered in it,” said Aaron. “Stay still.” He stepped forward and sprayed Cameron’s wellies with bleach. Faint, smoky tendrils drifted from his toecaps and formed around his ankles. Then, the two of them took a few moments, dousing each other like that to make sure they weren’t spattered with infectious material. That was why the cleaners worked in pairs: it was too easy to get a random speck of fungus on the back of your neck without realising it.

With the biggest threat dealt with, they took a moment to catch their breath before getting back to work. After a minute, they soaked the ground with bleach and followed the trail of fungus to the moat. There, they found something unexpected.

Buried in the moat was a strange metallic object. It was large, about the size of an old telephone box, and buried so deeply in the mud that Aaron might have thought it some kind of unearthed relic. It was only because he had been to this section of the moat before that he knew the object was new. But for it to be buried so deeply in the dirt like this must have meant…

It crashed into the ground from above.

Like the corkscrews.

“What the feck is this thing?” Cameron took a step back. “Looks like a giant microwave oven.”

Aaron shook his head. Whatever it was, it was the obvious cause of last night’s breach. The large object spanned the moat from one side to the other, creating a bridge that the fungus – and the infected wildlife – had obviously crossed. The odd thing was, the fungus covering the metallic box was dead: blackened and crusty.

“I think this is bad,” said Aaron. “The last time something fell out of the sky, the whole world turned to shit.”

Cameron grabbed Aaron’s arm. “We’ve got more company. Look!”

Aaron stared past the moat and saw half a dozen greens shambling towards them. They must have made it down from the Highlands or from the infected South. Two of them had melded together, as the infected sometimes did. Whenever that happened, they gradually transformed into a larger mass like the beast that had terrorised Choirikell.

“Maybe we should call for help,” said Aaron. “More could be on the way.”

Cameron appeared conflicted by the idea, but eventually he nodded. “Aye. Head back and grab a team. I’ll stay here and make sure they nae cause mischief.”

Aaron started to turn away, but then something happened that caused them both to gasp. A figure rose from the earth on the far side of the moat. It was humanoid, but in no way human. It wasn’t green either. The creature was short and stocky, like the dwarves in the fantasy role-playing games Aaron had used to enjoy. It raced towards the greens much faster than should have been possible, charging at the conjoined pair and slicing their torsos apart with a blade that materialised out of its arm. Then it spun around and sliced off their heads before rushing to deal with the remaining greens in equally lethal fashion. The odd creature then collapsed on the ground as if it was wounded. The long grass hid its body from view.

Cameron and Aaron looked at each other, mouths hanging open. A full minute passed before Cameron blinked. “The feck did we just see?”

“I have no idea,” said Aaron. “What should we do?”

“What do ye think? Go fetch Boon. We need to report this.”

Once again, about to turn and leave, Aaron paused. “Wait. Whatever that thing is, it just took out six greens like it was nothing. Maybe…”

“Stop! I nae wanna hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Yer gunna say that thing’s a goodie, ain’t ye?”

“Well, yeah, it might be.”

“We ain’t gunna go help that thing. It’s nae human, and that’s all I need to know. I ain’t a man what naturally respects authority, but this is above our heids. Get someone over here, Little English. Now!”

A sound caught both their attentions.

The creature was moaning – suffering. Aaron cleared his throat and stared at Cameron.

Cameron shook his head. “Dinnae do it. It’s a bad idea.”

Aaron couldn’t help himself. He called out, cupping his mouth with both hands. “Are you okay? Who are you?”

The moaning stopped. Aaron looked back towards Culdrake, trying to locate the other cleaners. No one was nearby, and nobody was reacting to him calling out.

“Who?” replied a strange, raspy voice like that of a heavy smoker. “Who?”

“Yes,” Aaron shouted. “Who are you?”

Silence.

Cameron put his hands against his head and snaked his fingers through his fuzzy red hair. “This is a bad idea, Little English.”

The raspy voice replied again. “Who? Ally. Helper. Partner.” Another pause. Then: “Friend.”

Aaron smirked at Cameron. “Sounds like a goodie to me, don’t you think?”

Cameron gave no reply, but he looked utterly distraught.

Chapter Three

Cameron tried to grab Aaron by the arm, but he was too fast. He raced towards the moat, where most of the fungus was either dead or in the process of dying. Somehow, the buried metal object was causing a deadly reaction and a blackened circle surrounded it.

“Little English, this is a bad idea. Running off and being a hero was your brother’s gig – and he paid for it.”

Usually, a comment about Ryan would have set off Aaron’s temper, but he knew Cameron was just worried. This was clearly not a smart course of action, but he couldn’t help himself. Life had lost all meaning since arriving at Culdrake, but suddenly something out of the ordinary had happened. He didn’t want to miss it.

“H-Hello?” he said as he hopped over the moat, trying to avoid landing on the strange metallic object. The strange creature was ten feet away, buried in the long grass.

“Ally. Friend.” The more the creature spoke, the more it sounded like a radio with poor reception. It was an inorganic sound, electrical. “Helper.”

“Yes,” said Aaron. “I’m here to help. Friend. Ally.”

“Hurt. Not hurt.”

Aaron took several quick steps. The back of his neck tingled, and he sensed Cameron following closely despite his obvious misgivings.

If this goes bad, it’s on me.

Just like last night was.

Aaron reached the creature lying in a flattened circle of grass. Its body was short and stocky, its limbs sinewy and long. Its head was only slightly larger than a human’s, but attached directly to its body without a neck. There was no mouth to speak of, only a trio of worm-like protuberances that wiggled constantly. Three legs instead of two, and instead of hands, it had a pair of fibrous fan-like appendages. Bizarre was an understatement. At least it had eyes – two jet-black discs the size of beermats. Lacking pupils, it was hard to tell if the creature was looking at Aaron as he came to a stop beside it.

“Hurt. Not hurt.”

Aaron frowned. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Not hurt.”

“No. Not hurt.”

“Hurt.”

Aaron shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Hurt.” The creature moved suddenly, causing Aaron to jump back. Instead of attacking, it moved one of its fan-like appendages towards its middle, indicating a thin slice along its pale blue flesh. Its arm then flopped back onto the grass, and a nearby patch of fungus shrivelled up and turned black. The bodies of the dead greens were likewise turning black.

Cameron stood beside Aaron, shaking his head and muttering. “Feck me.”

“It’s okay,” said Aaron. “I think it’s here to help us.”

“How can ye know that?”

“Friend,” said the creature. “Ally.”

“Because it’s telling us.” He pointed at the blackened ground. “And look at the effect it has on the fungus.”

Cameron exhaled loudly through his nose. “So what do we do?”

“We help it.”

“How? How the feck do we help this thing?”

“Home,” said the creature. “Station. Station.”

Aaron looked up at the sky, wondering if this thing wanted a lift back to its planet – as if they were acting out a real-life Disney movie – but after some careful consideration, he turned back towards the metallic structure peeking out of the moat. It had an odd blue shimmer that resembled the flesh of the creature. Aaron pointed. “Station?”

The creature threw out an arm. Its strange appendage landed on the grass in the direction of the metallic structure. “Station.”

Perhaps the enormous chunk of metal was a spacecraft that had brought the creature here. Maybe there were supplies on board. He would have to touch the creature to drag it, though, which might be a terrible idea. What if its flesh was coated in acid or a deadly alien virus?

You can catch salmonella off an iguana. I don’t want to think about what you might catch from a three-legged alien.

“We need to get someone,” said Cameron. “Boon or Commander Fox.”

“What if it dies before they get here?” Aaron studied the creature and detected no threat. “What if we go to get someone and by the time we return it’s dead? We can’t take the risk. Not if this thing is here to help us.”

Cameron folded his arms and closed his eyes. “This is barmy.”

“Welcome to the world.” He knelt beside the creature and reached out a hand. “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

The creature didn’t reply, but its eyes aimed directly at Aaron. It seemed to shiver, and a syrupy gold substance leaked from its wound. Aaron tried to move his hand closer, but his body refused at first. It was the same thing he had experienced when he had tried to jump off the high diving board at the swimming baths. He had wanted to jump, but his legs refused to bend, and after several failed attempts, a lifeguard ordered him back down because of the queue forming. One of the most humiliating experiences of Aaron’s life.

I need to do this. No time for being afraid.

He closed his eyes and locked his jaw. His fingertips pressed against something hard and unyielding, more like stone than flesh. Immediately, he flinched, terrified that his throat might suddenly swell up and his eyes pop out of his head.

But nothing happened.

The longer he left his hand on the creature’s stony flesh, the surer he became that he wasn’t about to die from an alien toxin or brutal disease.

“Help,” said the creature. “Help. Hurt.”

“Yes. We’re going to help you.” Aaron looked over his shoulder. “Cameron? Help me move him.”

“Him?”

“Or her. Whatever. We don’t have time to check its bits. Help me drag it.”

Cameron objected for a moment, but then gave in with a grunt. He reached for the creature hesitantly, grabbing it under what counted as its left arm. Aaron grabbed the other side and they pulled. Despite being short, the creature was heavy – much heavier than Aaron would have expected – yet, once they got moving, it became easier to drag it along the grass. Less than a minute later, they reached the metallic structure and placed the creature down on top of it.

“Now’s the part where it grows ten arms and tears us to bits,” said Cameron.

“Then at least our deaths won’t be boring. Thanks for helping me, Cam. I know it was a stupid thing to do.”

“Helping crazy English bastards is what I do. Lately, anyway.”

They stood back to give the creature some room. At first, nothing happened, but then it reached out an arm and the fan-like appendage on the end shimmered, gradually transforming into something resembling a shark’s fin.

“What’s that for?” Cameron asked nervously. He rarely sounded nervous.

“I’m not sure. Some kind of tool?”

“Made from its own arm?”

The creature lowered the fin to where its wounded torso continued to bleed. The fin shuddered, dematerialising as if something were sucking the atoms from it. As it degraded, the creature’s flesh reknit itself.

“It’s healing itself,” said Aaron, trying to fathom what he was seeing. “Amazing.”

“Aye. I suppose that’s handy.”

The procedure took several minutes, and once the fin completely disappeared, the creature’s arm flopped on the grass and the fan-like appendage regrew itself.

Aaron shook his head in awe. “Just when you think there’s nothing left to amaze you.”

The creature now appeared exhausted. Perhaps it had been on a long journey that had ended with a crash. Or perhaps healing itself had been an ordeal.

“Okay, so now what?” Cameron stood with his hands on his hips. “I ain’t dragging this thing all the way back to camp. And I ain’t just leaving it here either. It could be dangerous.”

Aaron agreed. “Time to go get Boon. I have a feeling we’re about to cause quite a stir.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “A bloody commotion.”

The command tent was the largest in Culdrake, housing Commander Fox and his senior staff. It was currently filled to bursting, with bodies standing shoulder to shoulder. All furniture had been pushed aside, and in the centre of the tent, the three-legged creature stood at attention. Five feet tall, its sinewy arms were never still, and in the glow of the torches hanging from the ceiling, its light blue flesh shimmered like an oil slick.

Cameron and Aaron had called for help nearly an hour ago. At first, no one had understood what all the noise was about, but then Boon arrived and saw for herself.

Things turned hectic after that.

A team had tried to move the alien creature into camp on a sled, but it eventually rose up and walked unaided. If not for its calm, unaggressive movements, it might well have been shot, but it seemed to understand the precarious situation it was in and moved slowly. Efforts to unearth the strange metallic structure buried in the moat had failed, as did all attempts to open it.

Now, standing inside the tent, the creature showed no signs of its earlier injury. It had grown more animated, its gestures quicker and more varied. The fibrous fans on the ends of its arms pulsated and flickered constantly, and every now and then a rumbling sound escaped its chest. It was unnerving, but it still did nothing overtly hostile.

Not like it had when it had sliced six greens into ribbons.

Everyone inside the tent was understandably concerned, their muttered conversations clipped and confused. While an alien presence was less astonishing than it might have been three months ago, no one had ever seen anything like this. No one had ever encountered an alien that wasn’t intent on killing or infecting them. A creature that almost seemed friendly.

What did it mean?

What was it doing here?

Despite being the one to have found the creature, Aaron was standing at the back of the tent and struggling to see. Those more important had pushed ahead of him, and Cameron, too, had muscled his way forward thanks to his advantage of being the largest man in Culdrake. Fiona stood beside Aaron but hadn’t spoken in ten minutes.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked her.

She looked at him with bloodshot eyes. Everyone in Culdrake had that same tired gaze. Sleeping well was difficult with the constant threat of random night attacks and the memories of dead loved ones haunting you. “I should ask you,” she said. “What the heck happened out there on the glen?”

“A group of greens made it to the moat. This creature took them out like a ninja.”

“What is it, do you think?”

“An alien. What else? Fi, I think it came here to help us. It said the word ‘friend’.”

Fiona had nothing to say to that. She rose on her tiptoes and tried to see better. Thick woollen sleeves covered her arms, but she had got new tattoos since arriving at Culdrake. On her right hand was now a list of names, including Ryan’s. It upset Aaron every time he saw it, but he didn’t resent her. She had cared about his brother.

She cares about me, too.

Commander Fox’s booming voice came over the crowd, causing everyone to hush. He was an older, authoritative man, rarely seen by anyone other than Culdrake’s sergeants and officers. “We took a risk today,” he began, “yet our humanity demands we meet strangers with outstretched palm and open ears. If we judge and offer violence, then we are not the rightful wardens of this world. We are, of course, all anxious, yet this creature before you has shown no hostility. Thus, it is my directive that we will proceed in a manner of desired understanding. No one is to pose, or even suggest, a threat to our guest. The consequences of hostile action could be catastrophic, so let us not tempt the unknown. Do I have everyone’s understanding?”

A chorus of “Yessir.”

Aaron tilted and stretched, trying to peer through the gaps in the crowd. Fiona did the same but seemed to grow anxious. “This is going to end badly,” she muttered. “Things always end badly.”

“I would usually agree with you, but this thing was wounded and I helped it.”

“And then we brought it right inside our camp to have supper? Let’s hope it’s not some intelligent spacefaring alien with a plan to ambush us, huh?”

Aaron had to admit the danger had crossed his mind. When he had first alerted the camp about the creature, he had half expected Commander Fox to shoot it on sight, or at least have it brought into camp in chains. But after discussing it with his fellow officers, Fox had ordered the gate opened and the creature allowed inside. It was a massive risk, but Aaron hadn’t failed to notice the armed soldiers standing all around the edges of the tent. They would treat this thing like a friend, but were prepared to put it down like an enemy.

“Okay,” said Commander Fox. “The key to this situation is communication, so we shall attempt to speak with our guest via several methods. Mathematics, music, pictures: we’ll try it all. First, I would like Aaron Cartwright and Cameron Pollock to step forward, please.”

Aaron flinched. Fiona looked at him, eyes wide, and when he failed to move, she nodded at him to get going. He swallowed a lump in his throat and headed for the centre of the tent. The crowd moved out of his way as Cameron joined him. “Reckon we’re due a commendation, Little English. Try to look happy aboot it.”

Aaron didn’t know why Commander Fox would want to call him out, but he couldn’t see why it would be anything bad. He had broken no rules and informed his superiors soon after finding the creature. It had all been out of his hands after that.

But I touched it first. I moved it.

Maybe that was the wrong thing to do.

Commander Fox shook Aaron’s hand as soon as he reached the centre of the tent. The senior officer held a reputation for being tough, but he smiled now like a proud grandfather. “You two dealt with this situation superbly. Others might have sought to put our guest down, but that would have been a hasty error made in fear. We have a chance here to learn something that could help us. A pivotal moment made possible because you both kept a calm head and retained your humanity, even in the face of what I expect was great trepidation. Well done. Well done indeed.”

Aaron didn’t know what to say. Nor could he maintain eye contact with the commander, who gazed at him as if trying to read his mind. Cameron’s cheeks turned bright red and his lower lip quivered. He had to clear his throat before he spoke. “G-Glad to be of service, sir. Soon as I saw this magnificent creature, I knew we needed to act cautiously.”

Aaron hid a smirk, and he thought back to Cameron’s reluctance to help the alien, but he let the big Scot have his moment. He deserved it. Like they’d discussed earlier, he was a warrior in a world greatly in need.

“Friend. Ally.”

The crowd gasped. This was the first time the creature had spoken inside the tent. Its voice came from one of its fan-like appendages, which quivered in the air like a speaker cone.

“Helper.”

Commander Fox stepped back and remained silent. Everyone followed his lead and kept quiet. The creature remained where it was but turned in such a way as to suggest it was facing Aaron.

Aaron did something embarrassing and waved.

“Friend. Helper.”

Aaron nodded. “Yes, friend.”

“Astonishing,” said Commander Fox. “It’s communicating.”

An officer beside him spoke. “It’s replicating human speech with that appendage on its arm. It doesn’t seem to have the capability for direct speech. There’s no mouth.”

Aaron agreed with the assessment. When the creature spoke, its fan vibrated, agitating the airwaves to make sound, just like a speaker.

Commander Fox took a slow step forward. “Why are you here, friend?”

The creature turned. “Leader.”

“Yes, I am a leader. Welcome.”

“Friend. Ally.”

“Yes. Allies. We need your help greatly.”

“Helper. Blanket.”

Commander Fox frowned. “Blanket?”

“Blanket. Spread.”

Aaron’s eyes went wide, and he spoke before the commander could, unable to keep quiet. “He means the fungus.”

“Blanket. Spread.” The creature jerked, and one of its fans rose into the air. It suddenly sprang open, creating a flat surface the size of a dinner plate.

Everyone in the tent yelped, but Commander Fox put a hand up to calm them. He took a step closer to the creature. “What is the spread?”

The fan shimmered, and a fuzzy image formed in the fibrous hairs. At first, it was unclear, but it gradually took shape. A planet, possibly Earth, with a small green blob on top that gradually enlarged until it covered the entire globe.

Silence filled the room. Nobody needed reminding of what was happening.

The image on the creature’s fan changed, the globe disappearing from the top downwards like someone was wiping clean an Etch A Sketch. A new image formed, this time of four planets. Several compact figures also appeared, the same species as the creature. Each moved to one of the planets. Then, three of the planets turned green and their figures fell over. The remaining planet was half coloured green. The figure on that planet tumbled sideways, injured but not dead.

“Your planets have been wiped out,” said Aaron. “All except for one.”

The creature didn’t reply, but it seemed to look at Aaron again.

What am I doing? I shouldn’t be involved in this.

I’m fifteen years old.

Aaron kept expecting Commander Fox to quieten him, or remove him completely, but the old officer appeared content to let him talk. So he did. “Why is the fungus here?”

The fan reset itself and remained blank. For a moment, Aaron thought he had said the wrong thing, but then a new image formed. A new planet appeared, covered in green fungus. The air around the planet was blue, but it gradually transformed into a deep red. A disgusting creature – all fleshy lumps and dangling meat – appeared beside the planet and landed on its surface. It wriggled, and soon there were two of them. Then four. Then more.

“Steal,” said the creature. “Thief.”

“The bastards,” said Cameron, offering nothing else.

Aaron turned to Commander Fox. “The fungus isn’t our true enemy. It’s only here to do a job.”

Instead of questioning the statement, the old officer nodded. “The fungus is here to terraform the Earth so that something even worse can come and make itself at home. There’s been talk of it in the capital. Our atmosphere is turning acidic.”

Aaron gasped, then reminded himself that there were men far smarter than him in Edinburgh trying to make sense of this. There was probably a lot he didn’t know, and he actually found that comforting.

Turning back to the creature, he asked, “Why are you here? Why Earth?”

Its eyes flickered. Perhaps it was thinking, or searching some internal database for the right word. Eventually, it chose one: “Refugee.”

Many in the crowd moaned. They had probably been hoping for a celestial angel, here to save them, but the creature was just another victim of the fungus. It had arrived here out of desperation, not to help humanity.

Commander Fox put his hands together in a prayer gesture. To the creature, he said, “Can you help us?”

“Helper. Ally. Many.”

“Many? What do you mean?”

“Many. Me. Helper. Ally. Many.” A pause, wiggling its sinewy arms, and then: “Many. Me. Fight.”

“There are more of you? Here? On Earth?”

“Helper. Earth. Fight. Many.”

The crowd perked up. While it wasn’t the most straightforward conversation, the creature seemed to be implying that there were more of its kind on Earth – and that they were here to fight.

The creature flicked its fan again, erasing the last image. Then, without pause, a new image formed. It made little sense at first glance, but one of Commander Fox’s officers apparently understood it. “It’s a molecular diagram. Amazing.”

“What is it for?” the commander asked.

“I don’t know, sir, but it might make sense to the science team in the capital.”

Commander Fox turned to face the crowd. “Someone, get a camera and capture this. We need to get it to Edinburgh ASAP.”

Only a moment passed before a soldier returned with a clunky old Polaroid camera. Commander Fox regularly had the camp take pictures of the fungus and any corrupted creatures they found. He often sent photographs back to the capital, hoping they might offer some unknown insight. He was a military man first, but rumours suggested he held great respect for science.

The soldier took several snaps of the creature’s image and Commander Fox ordered an immediate dispatch to Edinburgh. Nowadays, messages needed to arrive by hand. It had been a long while since anybody had sent an email.

Commander Fox turned back to face the creature. “We are indebted to you for your help. I am unsure how we can accommodate you, but you are safe here at Culdrake. Would you like to rest? Can we feed you somehow?”

“Fight.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“Ally. Fight.”

“You wish to fight? How exactly do you wish to do that?”

A new drawing appeared on the creature’s fan, the finer details filling in gradually. It was easy to identify.

A corkscrew.

“Fight. Source.”

Commander Fox frowned, which must have conveyed something to the creature because it changed its drawing. This time, green fungus surrounded the corkscrew. In fact, the fungus appeared to come from the corkscrew itself, snaking its way into the ground around its base.

Commander Fox nodded. “Yes, we are aware of these structures. We believe they brought the alien organism to Earth.”

“Source. Fight.”

“Yes, we understand they are the source of the fungus.”

The drawing changed again. This time, fire surrounded the corkscrew, and the green fungus around its base turned black. Then the corkscrew turned black, too, melting into the ground. Finally, the image changed to show flowers growing from the ashes.

“Source. Fight. Destroy.”

Commander Fox’s eyes widened.

Cameron grunted. “Spank me bum. Is this thing saying what I think it is?”

Aaron nodded excitedly. “It’s telling us how we can kill the fungus.”

“By destroying the corkscrews,” said Commander Fox, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “Why have we not tried it yet?”

“Because we’ve been too busy trying to keep our dicks oot the dog’s mouth,” said Cameron. “Um, sir.”

Commander Fox chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Ally,” said the creature. “Helper.” Its fan lowered to its side and closed. “Helper.”

Aaron chuckled. “I think I have a name for our guest.”

Sophie tossed and turned in the darkness. Makeshift beds were no more comfortable now than they had been three months ago when the world had first turned to shit. She lay now in an awkward crescent shape beside Nancy, whose snoring was like a hedge trimmer pressed against stone. The two of them had bedded down inside an old minivan, which they had found abandoned at the side of an overgrown country lane. It wasn’t their van, but neither was it anybody else’s. It was just another part of the landscape, along with thousands of other discarded vehicles. The country’s veins and arteries – its roads and highways – were clogged with dead engines. Only a handful of vehicles still ran – Sophie sometimes heard them in the distance – but they were spluttering relics. Their exodus from Manchester had been three months ago now. This was not the first abandoned minivan they had slept in. It was just the latest.

I don’t even know how far we’ve travelled. What was the last place we passed? Darlington? Three months and we’ve barely made more than a hundred miles.

Unable to sleep, and tired of staring up at the minivan’s fabric roof, Sophie sat up. She cricked her neck and peered through the rear window at the thick hedges along the side of the road. The bright moon hid, but its silver glow drenched the swaying leaves.

Are you awake, too, Ryan? Are you thinking of me?

Are you trying to get to me?

Alone at night, it was sometimes difficult to picture her fiancée still being alive. Every day that passed only made it less and less likely that she would ever find him.

But what else is there to do but hope?

Her stomach rumbled, competing with Nancy’s grinding snores. Food was scarce, so they had been rationing as much as possible. But right now, Sophie needed something to occupy her stomach. Maybe then she would finally be able to get some sleep.

Not wanting to wake Nancy, she reached carefully into the new backpack she had looted from a camping store. She slid out a packet of pickled onion Monster Munch and opened the crisps as quietly as possible. Rather than crunch them with her teeth, she sucked at them gently until they were soft and gooey. Then she squashed them against the roof of her mouth and swallowed. It made them last longer, which was good because eating was one of life’s few remaining pleasures.

Nancy’s snoring continued. She was deep in slumber and mildly inebriated after finishing the last of their vodka. The end of the world clearly hadn’t affected her sleep like it had Sophie’s, but the physical toll on the older woman – fifteen-mile hikes each day on a measly diet – was becoming too much. Even Sophie struggled to cope, and she had been an avid jogger for years. Life wasn’t getting any easier.

I can’t take another night of this. I want to sleep in a proper bed. Shit, what would I give for a hot shower?

She continued staring out of the window for a while, eyelids fuzzy like they were packed with cotton wool. It was torture. So tired and yet unable to sleep. The problem was that her days were so nightmarish that she dared not discover how bad her dreams might be.

Something moved outside in the trees.

Sophie’s hand hovered over the golf club she always kept beside her. There had been other weapons since leaving the supermarket months ago, but she had always gone back to the club. It was light enough to swing and deadly enough to kill. But, so far, things had not come to that.

A shadow danced, an animal or man. Infected or uninfected was the pertinent question. Sophie was unsure which was better. The infected were everywhere you turned, diseased men and women in various states of sanity, and some were more alien than human. The uninfected, on the other hand, were rarer but no less dangerous. Both left destruction in their wake.

Nancy and Sophie had survived mostly by staying out of sight, keeping to the countryside, where there was little more than fields and forest. Hiding was the best way to stay alive, so she employed that tactic now, lowering herself beneath the window and hoping to remain unseen. She put a hand on Nancy’s leg and shook her awake.

Nancy opened her eyes, dozy and confused. Sophie put a finger to her lips and shushed her. “Something’s outside. Stay down.”

Nancy’s eyes widened and she became fully awake, but she kept her mouth closed and nodded. The two of them pressed their bodies down against the flattened back seats, trying to get as low as possible. A newer vehicle might have had blacked-out rear windows, but not this one.

Twigs snapped. Autumn leaves crunched.

There was a voice, hushed and seemingly directed at somebody else.

Sophie held her breath, fearful it might give her away.

“We know you’re in there,” came the voice. “I saw you looking out the window.”

Sophie winced. Shite!

Nancy was chewing her lip. Her chipped fingernails dug into the seats. A few weeks ago, a man had tried to snatch Sophie and carry her away into a nearby factory. Only Nancy slashing the man on the arm with a knife had saved her. It hadn’t been their only near miss. It probably wouldn’t be their last.

“Come on out,” said the stranger in a local, northern accent. A male. “We’re friendly.”

Nancy shook her head at Sophie. Sophie shook her head at Nancy.

He said we. How many are out there?

Not knowing what else to do, Sophie remained silent: a hunted rabbit hiding from a fox.

Except this bunny bites back if you catch it.

She gripped the golf club tightly in her hands. Nancy gripped her long-bladed kitchen knife. They shared a glance, both of them nodding.

A tap-tap sounded at the back window.

The boot release clunked.

Before the rear hatch fully opened, Sophie leapt out of the minivan and thrust the golf club out like a spear. The rubber-coated handle struck the unknown man beneath the ribs and sent him sprawling backwards, gasping for breath. Nancy was slower than Sophie, but she scurried out of the minivan and thrust out her knife. Her hand trembled, but she meant business. “Fuck off, you fucking fucker.”

Sophie adjusted her grip on the golf club and raised it over her head, ready to bring it down on her attacker’s skull. They were going to learn a very harsh lesson tonight. “You picked on the wrong women.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” A man cowered in front of her, slim-figured with both palms held out in a gesture of peace. A wedding ring glinted on his right hand. He was unarmed.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat.

Sophie growled and swung her club.

“Daddy!”

Sophie froze. She looked past the cowering man and saw a little girl, five or six, clutching a stuffed doggie against her chest. Mud and grime streaked the girl’s cheeks. Terror filled her eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” said the man, still cowering. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

“No shit,” said Sophie. “Big mistake.”

“Please!” He lowered himself further, almost prostrate on the road. “I mean you no harm.”

Sophie stayed the man’s execution, but she kept the club raised above her head. “What do you want?”

“Just to trade.” From behind the grime and hair, a plain face peered up at her. The man had squinty eyes, like they were used to sitting behind spectacles. His grubby blue shirt might once have been smart, but the rips on the knees of his jeans were not fashionable. His northern accent wasn’t particularly thick, suggesting he was middle class or well educated. “We have tons of water,” he said, a fearful tremor to his voice, “but nothing to eat. My daughter, Maisie, she needs to eat, but whenever I try to get food from the supermarkets, I run into trouble.” His shoulders slumped and the air escaped him. “I… I’ve been failing her.”

Nancy put a hand on Sophie’s arm and forced her to lower the club. “We can trade, right? We can use some more water.”

Sophie took a moment to consider. If not for the young girl, she wouldn’t trust this man at all. It was always wiser to assume the worst of strangers, because they usually proved you right. The problem now was that she hadn’t yet reached a point where she could bludgeon a man begging on his knees. She needed to see how things played out. “I suppose we could spare a little food.”

The man took a deep breath and released it. He smiled, showing teeth that were surprisingly clean.

Slowly, cautiously, Sophie lowered the golf club and examined the stranger again. She saw no weapons, or even threatening body language. The little girl was a stick figure on the road behind him, which supported his story. “You like chocolate, Maisie?” she asked, trying not to raise her voice too much. The last thing they needed was more company.

The little girl’s eyes flickered. She didn’t speak but gave a small nod.

Sophie turned sideways and reached an arm into her backpack, pulling out a large block of chocolate and two cans of baked beans. There was more food inside, but she wasn’t about to trade it all away. Water was easy to find, food less so. They had survived mostly by raiding posh houses in the countryside.

One of the cans of beans rolled out of her hand, so she turned to grab it before it rolled under the seats. As she did so, the man stepped closer, his arm reaching towards her.

Sophie raised her golf club…

… before realising he was merely offering a handshake. “Thank you so much for this,” he said.

With her own hands encumbered by the beans, chocolate, and golf club, she ignored the gesture and offered a nod instead. “It’s good to meet you both. It’s been a while since we had a conversation with someone who isn’t crazy or…” – she looked at the little girl and decided not to be too specific – “under the weather.”

The man nodded knowingly, and he took the food from her. The smile on his face appeared genuine. “We pitched a tent in the woods when things turned really bad. We used to go camping a lot – Maisie, her mum, and I – but that was back before things changed. Never thought it would become such a useful life skill.”

There was no point in asking what had happened to the man’s wife, and the fact he still wore his wedding ring tugged at her heartstrings. It made her think about Ryan.

Not wanting to get weighed down with grief, she sat on the minivan’s bumper and tried to enjoy the sight of the father presenting his daughter with an entire block of chocolate. Maisie finally relaxed, the joy on her face clear as she took the first bite. The stuffed dog remained clamped beneath her arm: a brown and white beagle.

“She’s a little angel,” said Nancy, a smile on her face for the first time in weeks. “I didn’t think I’d ever see a child again. Lifts the spirits.”

Sophie nodded, but she couldn’t help envisioning a bad ending for little Maisie. How long could she and her father survive out here in the woods? How long before something – or someone – predatory found them? How long before the fungus came?

What if her father gets sick or injured and leaves her alone?

There are no happy endings any more.

The father came back a moment later and pointed off to the side of the road, towards a thick line of trees. “I buried my stash in the woods. Foolish to leave anything lying around in the open these days. I’ll go get your water right now.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You trying to pull a fast one, mate? You two go back into the woods and never come back, right? Take my chocolate and run?”

“What? No, I swear. Look, my name’s Mike. I’m an accountant, which is about the most useless thing there is right now, but I’m not a liar or a cheat. I’m just a man.”

“Everyone lies,” said Sophie. “Most cheat. And being a man is no comfort to me.”

“You’re right. People have lost any shred of dignity they might once have had. In the early days, we saw…” – he shook his head and closed his eyes – “stuff, things. That’s why Maisie and I have been hiding out in the woods. It’s not safe to be around people any more, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give each other a chance now and then. I promised you water and I’m going to get it. You have my word.”

“What’s a word worth?”

Nancy grunted. “Sophie. Stop being so cynical.”

“Look,” said Mike, “what if I leave Maisie here with you, just for a minute?”

Sophie shook her head. As much as it pained her, she was inclined to trust this man. Perhaps he truly was just a desperate father trying to keep hold of his humanity. Something in his eyes reminded her of how people used to be. “Just forget it,” she said. “I’m happy to put a little food in your daughter’s belly. We don’t need your water, so just be on your way. Repay the favour to someone else.”

“No, I won’t hear of it. Really, I’ll be right back.”

“Really, it’s– ”

Nancy interrupted. “We’ll watch Maisie, dear. Go on.”

Mike nodded and thanked her, then hurried to speak with Maisie. The girl protested and cried at whatever he said, but eventually she sat down on the grass beside the road with her grubby dog and her chocolate.

Mike disappeared into the trees.

“This is a bad idea,” said Sophie. “What if he tries something?”

“He won’t.”

“I told him to just forget about the water. Why is he so insistent?”

Nancy tutted. “It’s not about the water, Sophie. It’s about him keeping his word. It’s probably the only thing he has left.”

“Have you not seen enough of humanity these last few weeks to see that there’s no one decent any more?”

“We are good people, Sophie. Do you really think we’re the only ones?”

“It feels like it, sometimes.”

“We can’t think like that. I won’t.”

Sophie sighed. Unable to stand idly by while a child sat alone in the road weeping, she went and sat with Maisie. “That taste good?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“Ch-Chicken nuggets.”

Sophie chuckled. “McDonald’s, right?”

The girl nodded, talking around a mouth full of chocolate. “Mum used to take me there every Friday after school. Now there’s no more McDonalds left.”

“There will be again, one day.” Sophie didn’t believe it, but she couldn’t hurt a child with a cruel truth. “World’s a little scary right now, huh?” She looked around at the shadowy woods and the empty country road. A shiver escaped her as she thought about how this must look through the eyes of a child.

Maisie nodded in silence.

Sophie folded her arms around herself. “But, hey, at least you still have your dad, huh?”

“He’s not my dad.”

Sophie’s stomach clenched. “What?”

“He’s not my dad.” The little girl shrugged.

“Then who is he, Maisie?”

“He’s my stepdad. I don’t know where my real dad is.”

“Oh.” Shit! Shit! Shit! “And, um, how long has your stepdad been looking after you?”

“He married my mum at Christmas. The church was really cold.”

“This Christmas just gone? He’s been your stepdad for less than a year?”

Maisie nodded. “He bought me a bike, but it was too big.”

“You’ll grow into it. Look, I’ll be right back, Maisie, okay? You stay here and finish your chocolate.”

Sophie got up and hurried back over to Nancy, who was sitting on the minivan’s bumper, wrapped up in a blanket. The nights were getting chilly.

“Everything okay?” asked Nancy, seeing her frantic expression.

Sophie shook her head and cursed herself for being so stupid. “He dumped the kid on us,” she hissed. “God damn it.”

Nancy frowned. “What?”

“He isn’t her real dad. His wife died, and he’s been stuck with her kid ever since. Now he’s dumped her on us and done a runner.” She kicked at the road. “I knew something about this was wrong. That selfish piece of shit. I should have caved his skull in like my gut told me to.”

“Sophie, what are you talking about?”

She growled. “I’m telling you that good old Mike the accountant isn’t coming back.”

“So who’s that over there?”

Sophie turned.

Hurrying out of the trees, Mike struggled with two large petrol canisters clearly full of liquid. Between huffs, he said, “I’ve been filtering it from a nearby stream and storing it up. We have enough to last us forever. The problem is food. I’m hoping to find a pond with fish, or find what I need to build some snares. I’m still working up the courage to leave our safe spot and explore.”

Sophie spluttered. “Y-You came back.”

“I told you my stash wasn’t far away.”

Sophie took the petrol cans from him and marvelled at how full and heavy they were. “It’s water.”

“Yes, just like I said. What’s wrong?”

“She thought you were going to dump Maisie on us,” said Nancy, chuckling. “Thought you’d done a runner.”

Sophie grunted. “No, I didn’t. Well, perhaps for a moment. Sorry.”

Mike glanced back at Maisie and then frowned at Sophie. He was clearly bemused. “That’s crazy. I would never abandon her.”

“But she’s not your daughter.”

“Oh yes she is. When I married her mum, I promised to take care of Maisie like my own, and that’s what I’ve been doing. Now, I admit, I wasn’t expecting to have to take care of her during an apocalypse, but that doesn’t change the fact I made a promise. It was stupid leaving her here with you, but I suppose I trusted you. Not everyone can be bad, right?”

“I’m not so sure,” said Sophie. “People are attacking each other over toilet paper and Tic Tacs.”

Mike nodded. “I don’t even want to imagine.”

Nancy straightened up and put an arm around Mike. “Well, it all worked out in the end. You were right to trust us, and we were right to trust you.”

“I’m just doing the best I can, you know? Feels like family is the only thing left. Without Maisie, I’m not sure I would have a reason to go on.”

Sophie and Nancy exchanged glances. Family was the reason they were out here in the middle of nowhere, too – their mutual love for Ryan and Aaron. Without it, they both might have given up weeks ago. What Mike said rang true.

Sophie heaved the water into the minivan and grabbed her backpack. “This is too much,” she said. “Let me even up the trade.” She yanked out an unopened variety pack of cereal and handed it to Mike. “I used to love these as a kid. Wish I had some milk to give you.”

Mike looked close to tears. “Are you sure? I’ve caused you so much bother tonight.”

“It’s been the right kind of bother. We’re heading across the border to find someone we care about, and meeting you tonight has given me hope that there might actually be some decent people along the way. I needed that. Maybe now I’ll be able to get to sleep tonight. Thank you, Mike.”

He smiled. “You sure you don’t want to stick around with us for a while? Safety in numbers and all that? It’s quiet and there’s no fungus.”

Sophie nearly said yes, but stopped herself. She gave Mike a thin-lipped smile and shook her head. “We don’t have a choice. Family.”

“We’re looking for my boys,” said Nancy.

“And my fiancé,” said Sophie. “Love makes you do stupid things.”

Mike nodded glumly. “I understand. I hope you find them. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Stay safe out here, Mike.” She waved a hand. “You too, Maisie.”

Maisie waved back, her mouth stained with chocolate. “Thank you for being nice,” she said meekly.

“My pleasure. You look after your dad, okay.”

“Okay.”

“You’re good ladies,” said Mike, smiling.

When Sophie considered she had been ready to cave Mike’s head in with her golf club, she wondered how much longer she could remain good.

How far am I willing to go?

She thought about Ryan, and about the future they had planned together. She imagined his lips against hers.

I’ll go as far as I have to.

“Goodnight, Mike, and good luck. We’re all going to need it.”

“I suppose you’re right. I hope you get to where you’re going.”

“And I hope you find a pond full of fish.”

“Here’s hoping.”

Mike and Maisie disappeared back into the woods. Sophie and Nancy climbed back inside the minivan. This time, Sophie fell right to sleep.

Chapter Four

Aaron was running on empty, so once the meeting in the command tent finished, he went to take a nap in the tiny shelter he shared with Cameron. It took all of two minutes to fall asleep.

He awoke a few hours later to an uproar.

Cameron lay on the opposite side of their small tent, snoring his head off as usual. Aaron decided not to wake him, so he carefully climbed off of his cot bed and crept over to the tent’s zipper. Shuffling into his shoes, he opened the flap and stepped out onto the flattened grass. He expected to see the moon, but it was still daytime. The sky was overcast and grey. He checked his watch: 5 PM.

I only slept for two hours.

What’s going on?

Without the nylon tent around him, the uproar grew louder. He saw no obvious cause. The last twelve hours had been insane: first the bird attack, then the arrival of a shiny blue alien named ‘Helper’. Aaron hadn’t even started processing Ed’s death, or that he was to blame for it.

What’s all this shouting about? Are we being attacked?

Or did we let an alien spy into our camp and now we’re paying for it? Is Helper our enemy? If so, I need to take back his name.

Aaron hadn’t changed his mind about wanting to leave Culdrake. The prospect of heading towards something felt infinitely better than staying in one place without a reason or cause. He was prepared to die out on the road more than he was prepared to die here, miles from everything he knew. With so few choices left to make, it was important he at least got to choose his own ending.

He didn’t want to hide behind this fence any more.

The uproar came from the camp’s entrance, which suggested something might be happening out in the glen. But the closer he got, the more he realised people were not, in fact, alarmed, but were instead shouting out in excitement. Something had got everyone riled up in a good way.

Aaron picked up his pace and headed for the main gate. There, he noticed a crowd gathered. He didn’t see anybody he knew particularly well, so he didn’t ask what was happening. Instead, he ducked and dodged until he got close enough to see for himself.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “Is this real?”

Outside the gate, hiking across the glen, was a group of survivors – maybe more than twenty in total. They appeared healthy. Dressed in colourful outdoor gear, they moved slowly but steadily, stepping around the barbed wire buried in the grass. Between them, they dragged several large sacks of supplies. Many carried folded tents on their backs.

The main gate opened. Commander Fox stepped out to meet the newcomers. He never allowed anybody inside without checking them out first, but it had been several weeks since any survivors had arrived at Culdrake. Most people had assumed there was no one left.

It appeared that assumption was wrong.

A small group of armed soldiers headed out with Commander Fox, but everybody else stayed behind the fence. Aaron couldn’t hear what was being discussed, but the conversation between Commander Fox and the newcomers went on for a while, until, eventually, Commander Fox thrust out a hand and initiated a hearty handshake with a bearded man standing at the front of the group. It appeared Culdrake’s population was about to grow.

Aaron folded his arms and watched the newcomers approach. Where had they come from? How long had they been out on their own?

Before being allowed inside the camp proper, the newcomers would need to be inspected and decontaminated, so while the twenty-odd survivors disappeared into the quarantine tent, Commander Fox stood and addressed the crowd. He informed them that the strangers had come from the Midlands and had been surviving on their own since the early days of the infection. It was reason to celebrate. A miracle, no one could argue.

A loud cheer erupted from the crowd, and those not on duty raised plastic cups in salute. Even Aaron had to admit to a twinge of pleasure. Their arrival was fortuitous.

If they made it from the Midlands all the way here, then I can make it from here to Manchester.

I can’t wait to leave.

The newcomers’ arrival would lift people’s mood for a few days at least, but eventually the humdrum, joyless days would return. The camp had a meagre supply of electricity – supplied by a pair of dirty diesel generators – so computers and televisions were inoperable and entertainment consisted of cards, sports, and karaoke. Alcohol and cigarettes were also running low, which seemed to depress people more than anything else.

All the same, for now, life was good in Culdrake.

Helen appeared from a nearby tent that wasn’t hers, rubbing at her eyes and sniffing. When she saw Aaron, she strolled over, hugging herself against the cold. “Did I just hear right?” she said. “There are new people here?”

Aaron nodded. “Two dozen healthy people just turned up right outside the gate. They’ve been surviving out there on their own.”

Helen eyed him suspiciously, a tiny smile arriving at her lips. “And that gives ye hope that yoo can make it out there on yer own too?”

“Well, yeah. If a group of twenty people can survive, why can’t I?”

“Why can’t we,” she corrected. “Is anybody else coming?”

Aaron shrugged. “I want to ask Cameron and Fiona, but I’m not sure I should. They’re happy here – well, as happy as they can be. Cameron really fits in. I think this is where he belongs.”

“He’ll be happy anywhere so long as he has a reason to punch people in the gob.”

“Things will be a lot harder without him, that’s for sure.”

Helen nodded. “Cam’s a better man than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you might be right. Perhaps we shouldn’t involve anybody else.”

“I’m too tired to think about it right now,” he said. “I’ll start making plans tomorrow. It’ll give me a chance to speak to these newcomers and get an idea of what to expect. Maybe there are other survivors in the South. We really don’t know what’s happening other than in Edinburgh.”

Helen rubbed him on the arm. “Keep me updated. I’m going to go get drunk. No point sobering up until it’s time to leave. Till then, bottoms up.” She strolled away, back to the tent that wasn’t hers.

Aaron knew people drank when they were in pain, so he didn’t blame Helen for constantly being in a state, but he hoped she would quit the booze once they headed out on the road. The last thing he needed was her staggering around and making things harder.

She needs to get herself together.

So do I.

Aaron headed back to his tent. He was too pepped up by the arrival of the strangers to go back to sleep, but he didn’t know what else to do to fill the time. It would take at least a couple of hours for the survivors to be cleared, so there was no talking to them until then. When it came to the fungus, you couldn’t take any chances. Every inch of the survivor’s bodies would need to be examined if they wanted to stay in Culdrake. Aaron still remembered being subjected to the very same humiliations himself when he had first reached Edinburgh with Sergeant Boon and the other survivors. It had been a necessary evil, and as much as he hated the memory of foreign hands on his most sensitive areas, he didn’t blame anybody for it. It was just the way things were now.

Cameron was still snoring when he re-entered their tent, but the big Scot’s eyes snapped open as soon as Aaron sat down on his cot bed. The springs were not particularly loud, but Cameron had a talent for waking quickly. He sat up on his bed and looked at Aaron, wide awake. “Ye all right, Little English? What time is it?”

“Almost five thirty. You won’t believe what’s happened.”

“I’d believe anything these days. What is it?”

“Twenty-odd survivors just turned up at the gate. They’re being examined right now.”

Cameron beamed. His enormous hands patted his thighs as if they were bongo drums. “That’s grand. Good on ’em for making it here. We’re gunna win this war, ye’ll see, lad. We’ll have the world back together in time for the start of the new football season.”

“Not sure I’d go that far,” said Aaron, “but it is good news that there are still other people surviving out there on their own. I… I wonder about leaving myself, sometimes. To find out what’s left. I don’t think it’s safe here.”

Cameron bounced on his cot bed as if he’d been struck. “What? Have ye lost yer heid, lad? Culdrake is as safe as it gets, so wipe that silliness from yer mind.”

“My mam might still be alive, Cam. Sophie, too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled note Ryan had written back in Choirikell. “I promised I would deliver this to her. What would you do?”

Cameron scratched at his scraggly beard. It was the colour of copper. “I suppose I would think aboot what Ryan would want. Would he want ye to throw your life away just to deliver a wee message to a lass who might not even be alive? I doubt it, lad. Last thing Ryan would want is for you to join him prematurely. So dinnae do anything stupid, ye hear me?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. Yet Cameron had made a good point. When Ryan had handed Aaron the note, he had assumed his little brother would be leaving the village in the army’s care. The problem was that the army didn’t have things anywhere near under control. Other than Edinburgh and the surrounding landscape, they were completely cut off from the rest of the world. There had been reports of survivors in the South, but with communications spotty at best, it was hard to know for sure who was alive and where. Despite what common sense suggested, Aaron’s mind hadn’t changed at all. This wasn’t about what made sense; it was about what felt right – and leaving to find his mam felt right.

“It was just an idea,” said Aaron, knowing now that Cameron would never come with him – and that he would try to stop him. It meant leaving without saying goodbye. That filled Aaron with more sadness than he would have expected. While Cameron could never replace Ryan, he was almost like a big brother. Or a foul-mouthed uncle.

“I’m going to head back out and wait for the survivors to be cleared,” said Aaron, rising from his cot. He suddenly couldn’t look Cameron in the eye. “I want to talk to some of them. Who knows, they might be able to tell me more about Manchester. They might have even passed through it on their way north.”

“Aye, lad. I’m glad to see ye being a wee bit more positive aboot things. I’ll catch up with ye in a bit, eh? Gunna get my heid doon a while longer.”

“Sure thing. Thanks, Cameron.”

Cameron frowned. “Fer what?”

“Just… being around.”

“Get oot, ye soft bastard.”

Aaron chuckled and exited the tent. It had started to rain, but so finely that he could barely feel it. The weather was set to get worse as winter approached, and that would make things way harder away from the shelter and protection of Culdrake.

But I can’t let that stop me. I’m leaving tomorrow.

Before it gets too hard to say goodbye.

The newcomers had been filtering out of the quarantine tent and into the main camp for over an hour, and were already beginning to fit in. Several of them were now sitting in the camp’s rec square, which was the large clearing in Culdrake’s centre where people could relax in front of a bonfire at night and play ball games by day. The atmosphere was merry, people’s moods high.

Aaron sat with Fiona on a huge fallen log that acted as a bench. Others sat on plastic lawn seats and deckchairs. Commander Fox had relaxed alcohol rations for the night, and people were making the most of it, dancing around the fire and singing songs. Beer bottles clinked.

“What is it like?” Aaron asked Fiona. “Being drunk?”

She sighed, and her brown eyes rolled upwards. “Amazing. Everything weighing on your mind just floats away and you feel safe and relaxed.”

“So why don’t you do it any more?”

“Because booze takes more than it gives. Every morning after, you wake up with a little piece of yourself gone. Eventually, you lose so much that you’re left with this great big void inside of you, and it makes you drink even more to try to fill it, but that only leaves you even more empty. It’s a spiral, and it only goes downwards.” She rubbed at her forearm, fingers passing over the pink scar tissue left behind by a deep burn. “It’s a long climb back to the top.”

“I don’t get it.”

She put her hand on his thigh, passing warmth from her palm. It caused a tingle in his groin. “Ignorance is bliss,” she said. “Keep it that way.”

Aaron was curious about drinking, and as much as Fiona spoke against it, Cameron spoke in its favour. The big Scot rarely refused a drink, and neither did Helen. Yet, Aaron couldn’t say he liked either of them when they were drunk. Helen could be spiteful and mean, while Cameron was loud and annoying. Aaron didn’t want to find out what booze might do to him.

He eyed the newcomers, who were scattered in twos and threes and mingling with the original residents of Culdrake. So far, not one had been found to be infected. They all appeared well fed and healthy. The bonfire illuminated their smiling faces.

“What do you think about them?” he asked Fiona.

“It’s a miracle they’re alive,” she said. “Being out on their own, with the fuzz everywhere… I can’t work out if they’re just lucky or if they know something we don’t.”

Someone crept up behind them and made them flinch. “We were well prepared.”

It was the bearded man who had shaken hands with Commander Fox in no man’s land. He was tall – possibly even taller than Cameron – but not as stocky. Muscles bulged in his arms, shoulders, and neck, but they were wiry and compact. He took a seat on the log beside them.

“Hey,” said Aaron. “This is Fiona. I’m Aaron.”

“Name’s John.” He shook both their hands firmly. “A pleasure. Hey, I heard a rumour. Perhaps you could enlighten me. Do you people have…” – he shook his head and chuckled – “an alien?”

“Yeah, we named him Helper,” said Aaron, grinning. “Jesus, with all of you turning up, I can’t believe I actually forgot about it. It turned up this morning.”

“In fact,” said Fiona. “Aaron, here, was the one who found it.”

John gasped. “So it’s really true? Yikes. What are the odds of all this happening in one day? Is this creature friendly?”

Aaron nodded. “We think so. It told us we need to destroy the corkscrews.”

“Hmm, the corkscrews? I’ve heard about them but never seen one. They brought the fungus from space, right? When we were crossing the border, we met a team of journalists refuelling a helicopter. They told us everything they had learned – that the fungus can’t survive in an alkaline environment, and that the corkscrews landed in clusters all over the world to spread the organism.”

“Did anywhere else survive?” asked Fiona. “Other places like Edinburgh?”

“Sure. The journalists said a ton of places stayed clean during the early days – islands, mostly. Indonesia, New Zealand, Hawaii. Who knows if those places are still okay. There’s reason to hope.”

“Why didn’t the journalists come with you?” asked Aaron.

“We asked them, but they said they were heading south-west to Bristol. The British government is trying to set up there.”

“I thought the British government was in Edinburgh?” said Fiona.

John scratched at his scruffy black beard. “Suppose there might be two governments now. Anyway, that was a month ago. We haven’t seen anybody else between here and the border.”

“Why did you head north?” asked Aaron, assuming most would seek out civilisation rather than avoid it.

John shrugged and a vein bulged in his neck. “Why head anywhere? The plan was just to go wherever people weren’t. The cities and towns are no-gos. Monsters and infected animals are everywhere. The countryside kept us safe.”

Aaron was in awe of this man. He spoke so calmly and seemed so stable, yet he had survived the impossible.

And I’m planning on doing the same.

“How did you avoid getting infected, John? So many of you?”

“We didn’t. There were ninety of us when we started out. A group of us left Birmingham when we realised the cities and towns were the most dangerous places to be. We headed north because it’s less populated and we understood there was less fungus north of Stoke. Eventually, we planned on getting onto an oil rig or maybe a ship. We took supplies but mostly lived off the land. Every night we slept around the largest fire we could build, which seemed to keep the fungus at bay. We would light smaller fires, and use torches to ward off any infected people or animals. Hiking all day and camping all night, that was the routine.”

Fiona whistled. “Amazing. You made it all the way here from Birmingham? What did you do before all this?”

“I was a geography teacher. Before that, I fought in Iraq, but those days are long behind me.”

“That’s how you knew how to survive,” said Aaron. “You learned to in the army.”

“I learned a lot of things in the army, some of it useful. I taught everybody in my group how to make snares and catch rabbits – and filters to clean pond water. I only wish I’d been able to do more.”

Aaron assumed John was being modest, but remorse clouded his eyes as he spoke. He tried to disguise it, but it seemed ready to leak out of him. Since losing Ryan, Aaron had felt a similar way, like he was punctured somehow, and that every emotion was escaping through a hole in his chest. But John had lost sixty people and hadn’t let it beat him.

How?

“Can you teach me?” said Aaron. “Teach me how to survive out there?”

“Are you planning a camping trip?” asked Fiona, chuckling.

Aaron kept his focus on John. “I want to learn how to survive on my own, if I’m forced to. Can you show me how?”

John shrugged. “Sure. I am a teacher, after all. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, if I have the energy. That okay?”

“Of course. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Anyway, I’m going to check in with my people. Arriving here will be a lot to take for most of them. I want to make sure they’re all doing okay.”

“Of course,” said Fiona. “This must be a massive shock.”

John stood up from the log. “Yes, but in a good way. We were starting to wonder if we’d ever find people again. It was a relief to find you all here. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“You, too, John,” they both said, and they watched him walk away.

“He must have seen some stuff,” said Fiona a minute later.

“More than he lets on, I think,” said Aaron. “Do you ever wonder about what will happen if we survive all this and life goes back to normal? I mean, how can we ever live with the things we’ve seen? The things we’ve done?”

Fiona caressed her thighs beneath her torn black jeans and sighed. She seemed afraid to imagine such a future. “Let’s just say it would be a pleasant problem to have. Maybe it’s not even about us, though. Maybe it’s about the kids who will grow up after we’re done. Our sacrifice can be a gift to future generations who might be able to live in peace, without the fear of being infected or killed. That’s how I make my peace. That’s how I’m able to keep going. I’m living for them instead of myself.”

“For fictional children of the future?”

She shrugged. “Hey, you got to find what works, right?”

Aaron nodded. “I guess.”

He looked around the camp, watching people chit-chat in the bonfire’s flickering glow. Perhaps Fiona was right, and that the only way to cope with the past was to look ahead towards a future in which others might flourish. Aaron had always considered his life to be his own, but he was unsure about that now.

“Don’t leave,” said Fiona, dragging Aaron away from his thoughts.

He turned to her. “What?”

“I know you’re planning on leaving, but it’s a bad idea. Even if your mum is still alive, she wouldn’t want you to take a risk like that.”

Aaron shook his head. “How did you know?”

“Because I know you. As someone who has spent most of her life running, I recognise a restless spirit when I see one. You’ve been struggling for weeks, and I see how you stare off into the glen. Also, you seemed pretty interested in John teaching you how to survive out there on your own. I get it, but I reckon you should stay here.”

“Why?”

“Um, because if you leave then that means I have to go with you. And I really don’t want to die.”

“What? You would come with me?”

“Of course. I’m not going to let you and Helen leave here without me.”

Aaron flinched. “Wait? How did you…?”

She grinned. “Oh, yeah, Helen told me all about it. You’re both mad, but I can at least see why she wants to go. Helen has a death wish, but you still have plenty of reasons to live.”

“This place isn’t safe, Fiona. The fact people think it is only makes it less so. It’s only a matter of time before the fence breaks and the greens get inside. If I’m going to die, it might as well be trying to get home.”

“Say you’re right, and this place isn’t safe. Isn’t it better to stick around and try to make things better?”

“I’m just a kid. How can I do that?”

“By being a man. You’re already on Commander Fox’s radar. He let you do most of the talking this morning when you found Helper, and you showed everyone how smart you are. So stay. Make a difference. Because, if you leave…”

“What?”

“Then you’re selfish.”

“For wanting to go find my mam? For wanting to deliver Ryan’s letter like I promised?”

“For believing that any of this is about you. If you leave, Helen and I will come with you. Cameron, too, probably. He loves you.”

Aaron looked away awkwardly. “No one has to come. I’ll go alone.”

“Don’t be naïve. We’re family, Aaron. We’ve been family ever since we made it out of Choirikell together. If one of us leaves, we all leave. It won’t just be you committing suicide.”

“That’s not fair. You can’t put that on me.”

“Life isn’t fair, Aaron. It never was before and it certainly isn’t now. If you want to leave, fine, but think about it a little longer, okay? This isn’t a decision to make hastily.”

Aaron’s jaw locked tight and his fists clenched. He wasn’t asking anyone to do anything, so why was Fiona getting on his back? Why couldn’t he just make his own decisions?

“I’ll think about it,” he said, but didn’t intend to. His mind was made up. He was leaving soon. But he realised something painful.

I’m going to leave on my own without saying goodbye.

I hope they can forgive me.

Chapter Five

It had been three days since Aaron had promised Fiona he would think about staying at Culdrake, and he tried to make it appear as though he was. He wanted his friends to see his mood improving so they would think he was moving past his ‘silly’ plans about leaving.

He had never been more sure that he wanted to go.

Last night had brought another attack. Three more people dead. Once again, the danger had come primarily from the air, but a large beast had also attacked the fence, nearly knocking a section of it down. The larger creatures, formed from several infected people or animals fusing together, were not uncommon, but they were always a threat. They would make it past the defensive moat via brute force, ignoring damage to their bodies as their flesh smoked and came apart. If there was enough left of them to make it to the fence, it took a lot of firepower to finish them off. It was a race to kill them before they caused too much chaos.

Last night’s casualties would have been worse if not for Culdrake’s newcomers. The alien, Helper, had come bursting out of the command tent, both its fan-like appendages transforming into ten-foot whips. He lashed at the air, slicing birds apart with inhuman accuracy. Then, when he spotted the beast at the gate, he retracted the whips and formed a pair of dishes that appeared to vibrate. The beast at the fence roared, and became distracted long enough for the camp’s soldiers to put it down.

While this was all happening, John had led a team to deal with the remaining birds, rushing around the camp with large fishing nets spread out between them. They trapped the birds in the air, tangling them up and dumping them on the ground, where they smoked and burned. The nets were soaked in bleach. Then someone had reached the speaker stack and turned on the high-pitched frequency. The fight had ended.

It could have been worse.

Spirits in Culdrake today were still high, despite the deaths, and it had much to do with Commander Fox. The old officer had promised a new dawn, thanks to the information provided by Helper, and they would soon attack their enemy at its source. They would seek out and destroy the corkscrews.

Good luck with that. Maybe it will even work.

It was late afternoon. The sky was a dark grey, hosting rain that had been falling intermittently since dawn. Helper had emerged that morning from the command tent, as soon as the sun rose, and proceeded to walk around camp like he was completely at home. People stood and watched the shimmering blue alien, but it appeared more out of curiosity than fear. In just three days, Helper’s presence had become more or less normal. People adapted to things quickly nowadays.

Aaron must have adapted, too, because he walked over to Helper to talk with him. Despite the rain, the alien appeared completely dry. “Um, Helper?”

The alien turned, not his head, but his whole body. “Helper. Ally.”

“Yeah. Allies. Erm, how are you doing?”

The alien didn’t respond. It was still unclear how much it could understand. Commander Fox spoke with him daily in the command tent, sometimes for hours, but he didn’t share what he had learned. Rather than understanding English, Helper had a collection of words. Now and then, he spoke a new one, which would provide a new tool with which to communicate.

“Blanket,” said Aaron. It was the word Helper used to refer to the fungus. It was usually the word that got him responding.

“Blanket. Safe. Safe.”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, I suppose we’re okay, for now. Is that what you’re saying? Will you warn us if it comes? Danger?”

“Safe. Safe.”

“Yeah, safe, I get it. My name’s Aaron, by the way. Do you have a name, other than Helper?”

“Helper. Ally. Friend.”

Aaron chuckled. The alien’s disembodied voice seemed to have taken on a little personality, but he assumed it was because he had got used to it.

“Are you saying it’s safe here, Helper? Do you think I should stay here, or is this place doomed? I think so, but no one else seems ready to admit it.”

Helper didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted one of his fans and formed an image. It was one he had depicted several times during the last few days. It was an image of a corkscrew on fire. “Fight. Blanket. Fight.”

The rain grew heavier, chilly against Aaron’s cheeks. He could smell the wet soil beneath his feet. “I think Commander Fox is putting a plan together to destroy the corkscrews, like you want us to.” In fact, Commander Fox had briefed the camp yesterday afternoon, informing everyone they would be putting together a sheltered convoy to head across the border; specifically, to a region near to Stoke where a corkscrew had been identified in the early days of the invasion. The plan was to ease the threat coming from below the border, and hopefully open up a corridor to allow survivors in the South to link up with the Scottish capital. A second operation would later deal with the corkscrews north in Choirikell. It was unlikely any survivors still existed in the Highlands, which was why it had been deemed a lesser priority.

Stoke was a lot closer to Manchester than Culdrake, so Aaron intended on being in that convoy when it left. He just needed to bring it up with Commander Fox, who at least now knew him by name.

“Fight,” said Helper. He shuffled back and forth on his three legs. The worm-like protuberances on his face wiggled.

“Yeah, we’re going to fight.”

“Fight. Me. Fight. You. Fight.”

Aaron nodded, but he didn’t reply. It was like talking in circles. He waved a hand and walked away, spotting several armed soldiers watching from nearby. Commander Fox didn’t fully trust the alien, and although it was never stated outright, Helper was essentially a prisoner at Culdrake. Aaron didn’t have a problem with that, as he didn’t fully trust the alien either. While Helper had done nothing hostile since arriving, he had also not been of any particular use other than during the fight last night. He mostly just walked around camp with his odd three-legged strut, sometimes speaking and occasionally producing pictures with his fans. Perhaps the alien’s only task had been to inform Culdrake about the corkscrews: a messenger who had delivered its message.

Aaron caught up with John over at the rec square. For the last two days, he had been teaching Aaron what he called ‘bushcraft’. They practised how to start campfires with tinder and a heat source, and how to surround the flames with stones to capture and radiate the warmth. They had even built a heat deflector from twigs. Aaron had enjoyed every minute of learning and couldn’t wait for every lesson. John was like one of those survival specialists from television, but better. Were any of those posers even still alive? Probably drinking their own piss and wondering where the buffet cart was.

John is for real.

The man was currently sitting on the rec square’s large seating log, watching a couple of young soldiers kick around a half-deflated football. He had a smile on his face but it somehow seemed sad, as if he were actually frowning, but when he saw Aaron, it grew a little more genuine. “Good afternoon, young man.”

Aaron sat down beside him, aware that he was blushing. “Hey, John. How’s it going?”

“It’s going just fine. I’ve been letting my mind wander, to see where it goes. Do you ever do that? Just let your thoughts flow freely, without trying to direct them or control them in any way? It’s interesting what can pop into one’s head without invitation.”

Aaron tried to consider what he was hearing, but it sounded a little nutty. “I would be too afraid to just let my mind wander. Few of my thoughts are pleasant these days.”

John scratched at his dark, overgrown beard and sat up straighter. “We’ve all lost a great deal, but never be afraid of your own mind, Aaron. Face whatever it is you’re avoiding and you’ll find a strength you didn’t know you had.” He leant forward and cleared his throat. “You know, in the first days of the invasion, when I first lost my Julie and our boys, it was too painful even to picture their faces.”

“Wait, what? You never said you had a family.”

“Did you think I walked the Earth alone before all this?”

“No, I just… you’re so level-headed. People followed you and you got them here. How could you have done that if…” He shook his head, unsure of what he was even trying to say.

“How could I do that while grieving the death of my wife and children? I understand what you’re thinking, Aaron, but you didn’t let me finish. Right after the fungus took my family, the grief ate away at me; same way yours is eating away at you now. I pushed aside all thoughts of my family just so I could keep going, but it was like trying to hold back the sea. Try as I might, the waves kept crashing down on my head and swallowing me up. Eventually, when I had all but drowned, I realised that by pushing the memory of my family away, I was slowly erasing them. It was the last thing I wanted, so I made a change. When I accepted my pain instead of trying to block it out, and I allowed myself to remember their faces, my family returned to me. I’ve been carrying them with me ever since.”

“I guess I didn’t think about it like that,” said Aaron, “but the last thing I want to do is think about Ryan. It’s too hard.”

“Grief is like cancer. You can try to ignore it, but slowly it creeps in around the edges and catches up to you all at once. By that point, the damage is too extensive to put right. Whatever it is you’re afraid of, Aaron, you can’t ignore it forever.”

“I’m not sure I can do what you’re suggesting.”

John nodded, a tilted smile on his face. “You can.”

Aaron swallowed, his throat dry and slightly sore. He’d been so preoccupied lately that he’d barely remembered to drink or eat. “I’ll try. Maybe.”

John put his hand on Aaron’s knee and looked him in the eye. “Grief makes us human. Our souls are flowers, and pain the soil around our roots. It’s what makes us grow. Let your pain remind you of the love you once held for the people you’ve lost.”

“Were you really a geography teacher? You have an awful lot of sayings. You’re like Yoda or something.”

John threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! My wife, Julie, used to say I was in love with the sound of my own voice. Perhaps that’s why I became a teacher. Feel free to ignore me.”

“I won’t. I’ve really enjoyed meeting you.”

“I’ve enjoyed meeting you, too, Aaron. It’s nice to pass on a little aged wisdom. It’s like having my sons back.”

Aaron didn’t know how to respond. He looked down at the ground and smiled awkwardly. “Not sure you would ever want a son like me. My own dad didn’t stick around.”

John’s smile faded. He smoothed his beard with his hand. “Then he was a fool. You’re a fine young man, Aaron. Smart, eager to learn; I wish half my students had been more like you.”

Aaron felt a tremor at the back of his throat. His eyes began to sting. It wasn’t a common occurrence in his life to receive praise, let alone from an adult who barely knew him, so it struck him unexpectedly. “You must have been a good dad,” he said, clearing his throat afterwards. “I’m sorry about your sons.”

“I’m sorry about all the sons. What we’re living through, right now, is the biggest test our species has ever faced, but I know in my heart that we shall endure. Humanity is too bright a star to fade.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am.”

Aaron didn’t want to say that eventually all stars collapsed in on themselves, so he remained silent. For a while, he and John sat and watched the football game in front of them. Once or twice, the ball came their way, and John hopped up and hoofed it back with impressive skill. Aaron wondered if there was anything the man wasn’t good at.

A short while later, John reached into his jacket and pulled something out, a small wooden object. “This belonged to my boy, Josh. I’d like you to have it.”

“What? No, I can’t.”

John ignored him and offered it to him. “When I was out there in the wild, wondering if I would ever find safety again, this was my good luck charm. Josh was always crazy about pirates, even at thirteen years old.”

Aaron took the strange wooden box from John, and then immediately tried to give it back. John refused, so Aaron was forced to open it. He discovered a compass, its lid a wooden hexagon with a skull and crossbones carved in it. The inside resembled a weathered map with N, S, E, & W marked in red script. A child’s toy, but a nice one.

“I don’t think it works any more,” said John. “Whenever I tried to follow it, it always seemed to lead me into hot water, so don’t rely on it to get you anywhere safely.”

Aaron chuckled. “Maybe it points towards danger, like an enchanted trinket or something. I could use a little magic right now. I really shouldn’t take this from you, though. It was your son’s.”

“I want you to have it. So would Josh. Hey, look under the lid. There’s an attachment.”

Aaron fiddled until he found a tiny metal hinge. He thumbed at it until a small round piece of glass rotated into view. A tiny magnifying glass.

“Hold it up to the sun,” said John.

“There isn’t any sun. Not much anyway.”

“There’s enough. Go on.”

Aaron tilted the magnifying glass until it glinted. John grabbed his hand and held it still. At the same time, he pulled a leaf from a weed growing beneath the seating log. He positioned the weak sunbeam onto the leaf and held everything in place. At first, Aaron thought nothing was going to happen, but then the leaf started to smoke.

John waved the leaf to keep it from catching fire. He was smiling – he always seemed to smile when he was teaching. “You never know when you might need fire, Aaron, so you keep this with you.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, John.” He pocketed the compass in the inside pocket of his coat.

John leant over and rubbed Aaron’s back. “Try to let go of what’s troubling you, okay? You’re a good kid. And you’re alive, which is a gift few have received lately.”

Aaron felt sure tears were going to come, but before they did, movement caught his attention. Cameron stomped across the rec square, right through the middle of the football match. He headed towards the log, face scrunched in anger. “Get yer grubby paws off ’im! Sniffing around the lad like a hungry wolf, ye are.”

John stood up, hands out in front of him. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

Cameron squared up to the man. “What do ye want with the lad, eh? Who the hell are ye? Been here three days and ye think yer Aaron’s dad or something? Rubbin’ his back and teachin’ him yer little tricks. What ye after?”

Aaron stood up, shocked by what he was hearing. Cameron’s glassy eyes betrayed the fact he was drunk. His clenched fists betrayed his mood. “Cameron, what are you– ”

“I’m not after anything,” said John, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve been teaching Aaron, that’s all.”

“He doesnae need yer help!”

“I disagree. Youth thrives when age shows an interest. Aaron is clearly smart, and eager to learn.”

“He ain’t!”

Aaron frowned. “Hey!”

Cameron shook his head, like he was trying to restart the conversation. “I nae meant it like that. I mean, ye nae need teaching by the likes of him. He’s using ye, Little English. And to what end, I wonder.”

Helen stumbled to the edge of the clearing, clutching at herself to keep out the cold. “Cam? What are you doing?”

“Go back to the tent, Hel. I’m aboot to take care of a boy-loving shite-arse.”

John baulked. “Be very careful, sir. My patience is not without limits. I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but I suggest you go someplace and calm down.”

Cameron didn’t back off as suggested. In fact, he took a step forward and closed the distance between the two men. “I’ve been looking after Aaron because I promised his brother I would. Then yoo come along and suddenly his heid gets turned so much he nae sees them what’s truly looking oot for him.”

Aaron groaned inwardly. Was Cameron jealous of John? Since deciding he was leaving, Aaron had been avoiding Cam and the others, mainly because it was too hard to be around them, knowing he would soon disappear without saying goodbye.

But all Cameron sees is that I’m suddenly spending all my time with John.

Does he really think John is using me? It’s ridiculous.

Aaron raised his voice. “Calm down, Cameron. This is my fault. I’m the one who’s been pestering John to teach me.”

“Quiet, lad. Yer under his spell, can’t ye see?”

John put a palm up defensively. “Back off, sir. You’re getting too close and I don’t like it.”

“Feck off, pal.”

“You’re drunk. Go sleep it off.”

“Or what? What ye gunna do aboot it?”

“I’d rather you not find out.”

Cameron smirked. Then he broke down into full-on laughter, doubling over with his hands on his hips. “Oh, that’s grand. Ye reckon ye can take me on, do ye, ye wee streak of piss?”

“Back off. I won’t warn you again.”

Helen called out from the edge of the rec square, still clutching herself and now shivering. “Come on, Cam. Just leave it. Ye said ye were only leaving to take a slash.”

Cameron turned back. “Aye. I’ll leave it, Hel. I’ll leave it right here in the dirt.” Without warning, he swung his arm and a meaty fist flew at John’s head.

Cameron’s punch missed John by a mile. The man dropped to his knees and landed a straight punch right on the inside of the big Scot’s knee.

Cameron stumbled backwards. John hopped back to his feet.

“Ye bastard. I’ll knock ye block off!” Cameron approached again with both fists raised. He went to throw another punch, but John booted him right on the same kneecap.

Cameron barely kept from falling. He turned red in the face, jaw clenched in furious agony. “Goddamn jessie. Put yer hands up and fight like a man.”

John said nothing. He was oddly calm, but something in his eyes seemed almost…

Deadly.

Aaron called out for the men to stop fighting, but they dodged away from him and began to circle each other. Cameron wasn’t usually one to hesitate in battle, but he showed caution now, favouring his left leg and limping noticeably.

A crowd gathered. Some cheered, others called out for peace. Fights weren’t uncommon in Culdrake, but they were discouraged. Cause enough damage and you got to spend a few days in an old shipping container on half rations. Surprisingly, Cameron had not yet paid a visit to the ‘chokey’, but this would likely change things.

“You’ve got it wrong,” said John, fists raised in front of his face. “We can stop this, right now, and pretend it never happened. Cameron, please…”

“I’m gunna murder ye.”

John sighed. “Violence is no substitute for conversation.”

“Shut up, ye fanny.”

“Just stop it, Cameron,” Aaron called out. “You’re being an idiot.”

Cameron glanced at Aaron, hurt in his eyes. Then that hurt turned to anger and he threw another punch at John. This time, there was no avoiding it, so John angled an arm and absorbed it instead. The impact sent him stumbling backwards.

Cameron growled, sensing an opening.

John reset his feet in time to avoid a follow-up blow, ducking and sidestepping, before planting another kick on Cameron’s injured knee. This time, Cameron dropped onto his hands and knees – a toppled giant – but he was right back up again, and he threw another punch, which John avoided easily. The miss caused him to overbalance, and he grunted in pain as his knee crumpled beneath him. He got up again, hopping on one leg and growing ever more angry. John dodged every blow that came his way.

Sweat poured from Cameron’s forehead, adding to the sheen of light rain. Usually he was an unstoppable beast, but now he just appeared stupid.

He needs to stop this. People are laughing at him.

Cameron tried to grab John, but John dodged aside and kicked at the ankle of his good leg. Cameron crashed onto his back, dust rising from beneath him.

Someone in the crowd yelled, “Timber!”

“Stay down,” said John, almost sympathetically.

“I’m gunna kill ye. I’ll ring yer bloody neck.”

“Stop it!” Aaron cried, and he rushed to get between the two men, but before he could do something to stop the violence, Commander Fox’s stern voice broke out across the rec square.

Everyone stood to attention.

“What in the goddamn name of Christ is going on here? Please tell me you two men are not fighting? Because that would be ridiculous. Do we not have enough enemies without trying to kill each other?”

John straightened up and snapped off a salute. He apologised. “We were just roughhousing, sir. Went a little too far, but there are no hard feelings.” It sounded like John was trying to slow his words, pretending to be slightly drunk. “We’ll clean up any mess, sir. There’ll be no more trouble.”

Cameron climbed up off the floor, still favouring his left leg. He made an effort to place his foot on the ground and disguise the injury, but he wasn’t fooling anybody. He seemed a lot more sober than he had five minutes ago. “Aye, sir. All the excitement of the last few days got in our system. We were just letting off a wee bit of steam.”

Commander Fox wrinkled his nose and glanced around. The spectators had turned away and gone back to whatever it was they had been doing. “Well, it doesn’t appear as if you idiots have caused any damage, so I’ll overlook it. But if I catch you fighting again, you’ll spend a week in the chokey. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir.” John turned and marched away. Cameron didn’t quite seem to know what to do, so he turned and limped after him. Aaron followed them both, shaking his head and feeling angry and devastated at the same time. He thought a great deal of John already, but Cameron was his family.

He’s upset because of me.

The longer I lie to him, the worse I’m going to hurt him.

Cameron looked ready to get back into things with John, although he kept his fists by his sides. Before he had a chance to say something mean-spirited, Aaron blindsided him with the truth. “I’m leaving. That’s why I’ve been pestering John to teach me what he knows about survival. I’m heading out on my own to find my mam. I know, I know, it’s stupid, but my mind is made up.”

Cameron flinched and nearly stumbled. John put a hand on his back to support him, but the big Scot shrugged away. Fortunately, his focus had switched to Aaron and fighting had left his mind. “What the hell are ye saying? Are ye mad? Yer nae leaving and that’s final.”

“You’re not my dad, Cameron. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Like hell. I promised Ryan I would keep ye alive, and that’s what I’m gunna do. It’s a death sentence beyond those fences.”

John shrugged. “Not necessarily. You can survive out there if you’re careful. I can teach Aaron what he needs to stay alive.”

Cameron glared. “Shut it, will ye? What the hell do you know aboot anything? Ye only just met Aaron. I’ve been keeping him alive for months.”

John sighed and took a step back. “You’re right. It’s not my place and I apologise. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re clearly a good man to care so much about Aaron.”

“Aye, I am a good man. Lately, at least. Anyway, ye fight like a lass. Ye nae threw a single punch.”

“Why would I raise my fists against a bigger man? You would have beaten me to a pulp. Instead, I used my head and took you down like the animal you were behaving like. A man’s only strong so long as he’s got two legs.”

Cameron glared, and it appeared he might go off again, but then a smile cracked his lips and he chuckled. “I’ll give it to ye, ye had me this time. Me knee’s pounding like a sodding drum. Any permanent damage and I’ll be looking for some payback, eh?”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. All the same, I’m sorry.”

“Can’t blame a fella for fighting good, but how did ye learn to be so shifty? I’ve nae fought nobody like ye before.”

John shrugged and looked away. “You can win any fight if you’re smart about it. Know your enemy; understand his strengths; and, most importantly, recognise his weaknesses. I’d be happy to spar with you again sometime, if we can be friends instead of foes.”

Aaron looked at Cameron pleadingly.

Cameron sighed and put out a hand. “Aye, okay. To the winner goes the spoils, eh? I’m sorry I called ye a kiddie-fiddler.”

“I’ll try not to hold it against you.” The two men shook hands, and suddenly the tension disappeared. They went and sat back down on the large fallen log that bordered the rec square and watched as the football match resumed.

“Ye really thinking aboot leaving then, eh, Little English?” Cameron looked at Aaron and shook his head. “Ye should have told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to tell you because you would either try to stop me or come with me.”

“Damn right. Yer nae going nowhere wi’out me.”

“But that’s not what I want. I don’t want my friends risking themselves for me. John will teach me what I need to know, and then I’m leaving on my own.”

“Ain’t happening, lad.”

“Aaron,” said John. “Perhaps it would be better if you thought about this a while longer. There are obviously people who feel strongly about you staying, so you should hear them out.”

Cameron nodded at John as if to say thanks.

Aaron shook his head, once again angry that people were trying to pressure him into not doing what he wanted. He might have been a kid when the fungus had arrived, but he survived when millions hadn’t. That gave him the right to make his own decisions. He was about to say something he would probably regret, perhaps an attempt to sever his relationship with Cameron, or at least damage it, but before he spoke, a strange sound came from over near the main gate.

Helper was standing tall on his three legs. His fans were in the air above his head, flickering and forming bizarre shapes. Slowly, a high-pitched wail grew louder and louder. It sounded like an alarm.

And that was what it was.

A moment later, the lookouts blew their air horns.

Usually, attacks came at night, but this time it was five o’clock and weak sunlight still pierced the drizzling, grey sky. Helper’s ear-piercing wails made it hard to think, but thankfully the alien quietened down as people grabbed their weapons and raced over to the fence. When Culdrake had first been built, firearms were stored inside an armoury at the centre of camp, but as the attacks grew more frequent, people took responsibility for their own weapons. Most stored them in their tents, which was true of Aaron and Cameron, who now raced across camp to get them.

Cameron shook his head and swore. “When was the last time the bastards attacked during daylight?”

Aaron couldn’t answer. Nearly every attack had come during the night, when people were weary and it was harder to see. A daylight attack was unexpected.

Our enemy is keeping us on our toes. It’s smart.

Our enemy thinks more than we like to admit.

Cameron and Aaron dashed inside their tent and grabbed their rifles from beneath their cot beds. Once again, Aaron wished he had something more powerful than a .22. It dealt with infected birds easily enough, but infected humans and larger animals shook off most of his shots. Standing beside Aaron, Cameron grabbed his SA80 and looped the strap around his neck. His limp had improved, shaken loose by their sprint across camp.

They ducked back out of their tent. Cameron turned to Aaron. “You ready?”

“No. I told you this would happen. The attacks will keep on coming.”

“Nae time for lectures, lad. I’ll listen to yer whining after the job’s done.”

Aaron shouldered his rifle. “Fine.”

There was no time to argue, so he hurried after Cameron, over to the fence, right next to where Helper was standing. The alien’s presence was strangely comforting. It had come here by choice, which suggested it might not be afraid of the infection or the fungus. Everyone else, however, was deeply afraid of it. You could see the fear on their faces as they lined up along the fences, waiting to discover who would die this time.

Aaron peered through the chain links, searching the glen. At first, he saw nothing, but then the grass itself came alive as infected rabbits, squirrels, foxes, and badgers sprinted towards Culdrake. Overhead, black shapes blotted the grey sky. Fortunately, somebody made it to the camp’s high-pitched siren and switched it on. Any birds that fell inside the fences were immediately stamped upon before a backup team doused their remains in bleach. It was standard procedure. The only thing different about this attack was the timing and scale.

Hundreds of creatures raced across no man’s land.

Cameron grunted beside Aaron. “This is gunna be a bad one. Stay close to me, Little English, aye?”

“Okay.”

Aaron trembled as he poked his rifle barrel through one of the chain links and pulled the trigger. He had become an excellent marksman over the last few months, but he missed his first shot. His second, however, took out a fox with a perfect headshot. The rifle’s clack echoed off the cliff face behind Culdrake and ignited the battle. Gunfire roared along the entire length of the fence as various handguns, shotguns, and rifles rattled, barked, and blasted. Infected wildlife burst open as bullets chewed through their decaying bodies. Smaller creatures disappeared in clouds of blood, while larger animals – badgers and foxes – shook off several of their wounds. Many made it to the fences.

Men and women yelled out warnings as the creatures launched themselves at the fence in numbers not yet seen. The most heavily infected creatures sported tentacles dangling from their eyeballs or bursting out from their skulls. Attached to the ends were sharp talons that whipped at the chain-link fence. Several unlucky people stumbled back in shock as they realised they were bleeding from slash wounds. Infected.

Aaron tried to put space between him and the fence, resting the barrel of his .22 on one of the links while placing his body behind the stock. He moved his legs as far back as he could, but even as he did so, a diseased rat fought desperately to squeeze through a link and get at his ankles. Cameron lifted a heavy boot and drove it down on the diseased rodent’s head, decapitating it against the metal wire. Its innards leaked onto the grass, brown and green.

Aaron took a breath and studied the glen. A dozen infected humans had made it past the moat and were now stumbling towards Culdrake. At least the bleach-soaked grass and barbed wire was slowing them down a little.

How did they get past the moat?

The fight continued, the defenders focusing on the infected wildlife at first, but then firing at the approaching greens. The wildlife had no chance of breaching the fence, but they were only a distraction to buy time while the infected men and women navigated the killing zone. If enough of them made it to the fence, the weight of them would bring it down. It had almost happened once before during an earlier attack. And this time, there were even more infected people heading for Culdrake.

Aaron looked past the first wave of greens and saw a hundred more behind them about to cross the moat. This was the worst attack they had ever endured. It might be the last. He cursed himself for not leaving sooner. He had felt it in his bones that this would happen. Death had been hanging over Culdrake like a cloud of smog.

Realising they were doomed, he reached out a hand to Helper and nearly recoiled from the texture of the alien’s unnatural, stony flesh. However, when Helper turned to face Aaron with its large black eyes, his revulsion disappeared. It was a strange moment, standing beside an alien in battle, but it brought a sudden, new perspective. Would the outcome of this battle really matter if all life was destined to die, anyway? Nothing lived forever and humanity was fleeting in the grand scheme of things.

No. It matters. It matters because none of us deserves to die like this.

We won’t have our lives stolen from us.

“Help us,” Aaron begged Helper. “Please, do something to help.”

Helper had thus far been standing still, doing nothing except staring out across no man’s land. He did nothing now either, except say, “Blanket. Fight.”

Aaron really was beginning to fear the alien was little more than a messenger. And messengers didn’t win battles.

Cameron barked out a warning as the infected got closer. Somewhere along the fence, Commander Fox’s voice boomed out orders. Hearing the old officer was a comfort, and everyone stood their ground, weapons poking through the links. If anyone tried to fire from a distance, they risked accidentally hitting the chain and taking their head off with a ricochet. People had learned that lesson early on.

The first wave hit.

The entire fence swayed and rattled.

Aaron flinched as his rifle slipped off the link it was resting on, but he immediately placed it back and pulled the trigger. His shot struck an infected woman in the face two feet away from the muzzle. Her jaw fell away, revealing a grossly infected spine and the top of a collarbone. Despite the damage, she didn’t drop. Talons struck at the fence, one of them slipping through the links.

A spike of electricity shot up Aaron’s arm, causing him to drop his rifle. His breath caught in his chest as he looked down and saw that his sleeve had torn, and that there was blood beneath it.

I’m infected. It finally happened.

Cameron turned to see what was happening, and his face fell in horror when he realised Aaron had been injured. His lower lip quivered and his eyes flickered between half closed and fully open.

“Keep fighting,” Aaron yelled at him. “Just keep fighting.”

Cameron tumbled sideways, shoved by somebody standing beside him. It was John. He shoved the big Scot out of the way just as an infected talon darted through the fence. The deadly razor sliced the air, and John lashed out with a machete and separated it from the tendril wielding it. The infected person squealed and stumbled back from the fence. John raised a handgun and pulled the trigger, blowing its face clean off its skull. It dropped to the ground, dead.

Cameron seemed to realise that John had just saved his life, but he didn’t thank the man for it. Instead, he gawped at Aaron in utter horror. John didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then he saw Aaron’s bleeding arm. “Oh, shit.”

“We have to do something,” said Cameron. “We need to burn oot the infection, or chop his arm off. It nae means anything. We can fix it. We’ve done it before.”

Aaron looked towards the fence, at the hundreds of approaching greens. They formed a solid line. “There’s no time to help me, Cameron. We lose this fight, everyone is dead.” He grabbed his .22 from where he had dropped it and went back to the fence. He took aim at the jawless woman who had just infected him and shot her in what remained of her face. Her body slumped to the floor. An infected man who had been standing behind her immediately crashed against the fence. His enormous belly was sliced open on one side and teeming with alien bugs. Aaron poked his rifle’s barrel against the fat man’s forehead and pulled the trigger. Even a .22 could ruin a skull at point-blank range.

Cameron rejoined the fight, firing wildly and roaring like a berserker. He had a sack of magazines attached to his hip, and he slammed in a new one as soon as one emptied. One thing Culdrake wasn’t short of was ammunition and weaponry. Manpower was what was in short supply, and the situation was growing worse.

Dozens of men screamed along the fences, clutching wounds soon to become infected. Some ran off into the camp, panicking, or perhaps planning to stop the infection before it took root. Others, those sliced in the torso or faces, stayed at the fence and fought, knowing they were beyond saving. Commander Fox rushed back and forth, rallying as many as he could, trying to convince them Culdrake would prevail.

Then the fence buckled.

Aaron shook his head. As much as he had expected this, it still horrified him to watch it happen. Despite his intention to leave, these were his people. Culdrake had kept him warm and fed for three months.

This isn’t just about me.

Aaron reloaded his .22 and remained at the fence, aiming for the closest infected heads. He fired again and again. Reloaded. Fired some more. He took out more greens than he ever had before in such a short space of time, and he enjoyed the rush of anger and joy as he watched each one fall. These had once been people, but they were monsters now.

And I’ll be one of them soon. I just hope my friends will have what it takes to put me out of my misery. If they live long enough.

Aaron got sliced again, this time just above his knee. He stumbled back, the wound deep enough to weaken his leg. Despite the searing agony, he hobbled back to the fence to carry on fighting. He immediately received a slash on his cheek, causing blood to pour down his shirt.

Beside him, Cameron wailed; his angry bellows growing weak and desperate. He turned to Aaron, tears swelling in his eyes.

“Keep fighting,” said Aaron. “Nowt else to do, Big Scottish.”

Cameron nodded wordlessly and carried on fighting.

Aaron failed to stay standing, but when he fell, John was there to catch him. “Easy there,” he said, cradling him. “Come on, let’s sit down.” He guided Aaron to a spot a few feet back from the fence where he could catch his breath. Those not at the fence peered at him fearfully, knowing the fungus was inside him. Others stared in pity. Most continued to fight at the fence.

Aaron’s body burned, but the pain was far off and distant. He wondered if this was what shock felt like. He wondered if this was how Ryan had felt right at the end.

Cameron kept glancing back at Aaron. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be injured too. Perhaps he didn’t care.

I don’t want my friends to die because of me.

“I wanted to leave,” Aaron mumbled. “I wanted to leave.”

John rubbed his back. “I know. I wanted to bring my people to safety, but I suppose this world is all about hardship now. Regret nothing, okay? Every person here is brave and blameless. You just rest. It’s okay to rest.”

“I’m scared.”

“Me too.”

“You need to go back and fight.”

John nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay. You’re not alone.”

He rushed back to the fence to rejoin the fight. He patted Cameron on the back and the two men shared words that Aaron couldn’t hear.

Several dozen infected people attempted to climb the fence, their weight forcing it to sag more and more. Infected wildlife fought to get through the gaps to bite at people’s legs. Men and women cried out, wounded. Others died, their blood staining the ground. A man lay nearby, face down in the mud. His throat had been sliced wide open.

Aaron lay back on the grass and spread out his legs, staring up at the darkening sky. The slash on his arm had turned an oily green, the infection already spreading. Even if somebody tried to help him now, it was too late. His fate was sealed. He would never see his mam again or deliver Ryan’s letter. In fact, he suddenly felt in his bones that they were dead.

There had never been any hope. Not really.

As the fence finally toppled, Helper backtracked on his three legs. He moved away from the front line and began turning in a circle. When his eyes faced Aaron’s direction, he let out a strange, rasping sound that didn’t come from the usual area. It seemed to be his proper voice, a sound made by the protuberances on his face. The alien hurried over to Aaron and leaned over him.

Aaron didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled. “Hey, Helper.”

“Helper. Ally.”

Aaron nodded. “Yeah, Ally. Friends.”

“Friend. Aaron.”

Aaron flinched, taken aback that the alien had spoken his name. Had he learned it? Did Helper listen to people’s conversation and pick up new words?

“Yes, I’m Aaron. It was good to meet you, Helper.”

“Blanket. Blanket. Help.” Before Aaron could reply, Helper dropped down and smothered him. It was like a school pile-on, except the alien weighed far more than a bunch of rowdy teenagers. For a moment, Aaron thought Helper was trying to put him out of his misery. One of the fans clamped over his face, cutting off his air, while the second pressed down on his chest with unbelievable force. Aaron’s whole body vibrated so rapidly that he felt like he might take off. His bones rattled, as did every cell in his body. “Please… stop!”

“Helper. Aaron. Ally.”

Aaron tried to call out for help, but the fan stifled him. Fine hairs entered his airways, and his chest rattled. His entire body was on fire.

“Get off him!” Cameron yelled. “Get the feck off him.”

“Helper. Aaron. Ally. Friend.”

Aaron gasped as the fan removed itself from his face. He rolled onto his side, wheezing. “Wh-What did you do to me?”

Cameron aimed his rifle at Helper, but he held off on pulling the trigger. “What did ye fecking do? Why were you hurting Aaron?”

“Aaron. Ally.”

Aaron leapt up onto his feet, confused and angry. Then he realised he had leapt to his feet. The weariness and shock he had felt only moments before had disappeared, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. He patted himself down and examined his body, trying to see if the alien had wounded him, but he found nothing at all. His injuries were gone. Where there had been a thick gash on his forearm was now a thin, almost translucent scar. He prodded at his face, and while he felt dry blood, there was no tenderness where a wound might be. “You healed me. You took away the infection.”

Helper stood there and said nothing. His large eyes faced Cameron, but it was unclear whether he saw the threat of the rifle pointed at him.

Cameron glanced at Aaron and the truth seemed to dawn on him. “Yer okay? This thing saved yer bacon?”

Aaron nodded.

John came rushing over and they quickly briefed him on what had just happened. A massive smile plastered itself across his face and he gathered Aaron up in a hug and patted him on the back. “Never give up hope, huh? Help can come from the strangest of places. Look, the fence is about to fall. What do we do?”

“What are Commander Fox’s orders?” Cameron asked.

“I don’t know. He’s dead. He’s over there.” John pointed.

Aaron realised that the dead man lying face down nearby was Commander Fox. With the old officer dead, the remaining fighters were wavering. But there was nowhere for them to run. Culdrake backed up against a cliff face, and the only way out was through the fence, which was now besieged along its entire length. Any minute now, it would come crashing down.

Gunfire clattered along the fence. Greens toppled in the glen like skittles. There was still a chance Culdrake could survive this. There was enough ammunition. All they needed was time.

But they didn’t have any.

The chain-link fence crashed down, a massive section of it flipping over. Not as mindless as they seemed, the greens converged on the breach and starting pouring through it. The fighters backed up, keeping a line, but loosening and spreading apart. Everyone continued firing, and the greens fell one by one, bodies and heads bursting open.

Aaron picked up his .22 and rejoined the fight. John and Cameron did the same. To their surprise, Helper rushed over to stand with them. The alien’s fans transformed back into those long whip-like blades, and he took out the greens rapidly, slicing them apart like sun-baked brie. The desperate men and women still fighting visibly gained confidence, and where they had rallied around Commander Fox, they now stuck close to Helper. If there had been any doubt regarding the alien’s intentions, they evaporated now. He was most definitely on their side.

But he can only do so much on his own.

More greens streamed through the downed section of fence. Most of the infected wildlife was dead, but birds circled in the distant sky, kept at bay only by the high-pitched frequency that came from the speaker stack.

“We need to move,” said Cameron. “We’re tripping over each other here.”

Seeing that he was right, John grabbed Aaron and the three of them retreated deeper into Culdrake.

“Cameron. Aaron!” They all turned to see Helen and Fiona racing towards them. The two women must have been fighting further along the fence. They were both armed with handguns. For once, Helen looked completely sober, yet the colour had left her face and her lips were thin and barely visible. “They’re inside the camp,” she yelled. “We’ve lost.”

“Not yet we haven’t,” said John. “A loss in battle does not mean a loss in a war. We have to keep fighting.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “Let’s move to the centre of camp. There’ll be more room to manoeuvre there.”

They back-pedalled to the rec square. There, they knelt and aimed their rifles, waiting for the battle to reach them. Desperate men and women funnelled in their direction. Helper remained in the middle of the action, slashing and twirling on three legs. Several times, he caught enemy talons against his stony flesh, but they appeared to cause no injury.

“This is our last stand,” said Cameron, loudly so that everyone could hear. “There’s naewhere to run and naewhere to hide. Our only option is to win this.”

Several soldiers nodded in agreement, so Cameron gave them orders, spacing everybody out. Without objection, he suddenly assumed a leadership role. It suited him well.

The remaining survivors knelt in a line and aimed their rifles, ready to fire upon the advancing enemy. More of the fence had come crashing down now, and the entire enemy army was pouring into Culdrake. People screamed amidst the chaotic noise of destruction. When Aaron looked up, he saw the speaker stack rattle and shake before, in slow motion, it collapsed against the ground. The high-pitched frequency died.

“Shit,” said Aaron. “Shit, shit, shit.”

In the distance, birds turned and swooped towards Culdrake. Aaron fired at them with his rifle, but it was impossible to score a hit at such a distance and while they were moving so fast.

Infected men and women reached the rec square, shambling on ragged, fungus-covered legs. Their eyes bulged or swung in front of their cheeks as green material oozed from their sockets.

“Fire at will,” Cameron ordered. “Fire until yer dead or they are.”

Everyone stood their ground and fought. The greens fell like dominoes, crashing into one another and littering the muddy ground. The surviving soldiers were veterans, wielding the heaviest weaponry and brutally cutting through the advancing enemy. Hope increased. Men shouted threats and insults at the enemy where before they had been silent. Cameron continued to cajole them, barking out orders, and mocking anybody who appeared the slightest bit afraid of this feeble enemy before them. Within minutes, more than a hundred greens littered the rec square. Only a few dozen more filtered through the collapsed fence.

Aaron realised they might just survive this.

But then what?

Weapons ran out of ammo, so people shared what they had, tossing magazines and clips back and forth in the air. A pair of women ran off towards the munitions tent to fetch more.

“There’s no more,” said Fiona. Her sleeves were rolled up, revealing extensive tattoos and the thick scar caused by Ryan saving her life back in Choirikell’s tiny church. She was an attractive woman, even more so because of her many wounds. Her history was etched upon her flesh, on display for all to see; she didn’t hide who she was. Aaron gazed at her for a moment longer, and then turned back to fire his last round of .22 ammunition.

“I’m empty,” he shouted.

But it didn’t matter. The greens were dead. The only threat now was the birds, which were no longer deterred by the speaker stack.

Cameron fired up at the sky and bellowed. “Aerial threat. Everybody shoot up at the feckin’ skies.”

Everyone fired upwards, and the combined blast tore through a dozen birds, sending them plummeting to the ground in a cloud of feathers. The tactic was effective because of quantity, not quality, as no one could reasonably aim and hit a specific target. Together, though, shooting all at once, they created a wall of death that the birds could not penetrate.

In a few moments, the fight was finished.

Gunfire petered out. Men and women cheered, a mixture of pride and disbelief. Their levity died quicky, however, as everyone began to take in the death and destruction caused by the attack. Corpses – both infected and human – covered the ground in an undulating carpet. Their blood watered the earth. A third of Culdrake’s population dead.

In one single attack.

Helper scuttled amongst the devastation, stopping now and then to sprawl on top of an injured soldier to heal them in the same way he had healed Aaron. The alien was a competent medic, but people were dying faster than he could heal them.

“We’ll never get this place back,” said Helen. “There are too few of us left. The enemy has been testing us for weeks, seeing how many are needed to take us out. Now, they have.”

“We can fix the fence,” said Cameron. “We can.”

“But why?” asked Fiona, clutching her ribs as if she had a stitch. “To wait and be attacked again? Aaron was right: Culdrake was never going to survive. The greens will just keep coming until there’s none us left.”

Cameron whirled on her. “Then what the feck do ye suggest we do? All I’m hearing is complaints, and I’m sick of it.”

“All you’re hearing is the truth,” said Aaron. “We can’t fight our enemy like this. It’s time to try something different.”

John raised a bushy black eyebrow. “I’m listening. Do you have anything in mind?”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we should– ”

Someone shouted nearby. “Incoming!”

Everyone turned, searching for the threat. It came from above, a swooping owl the size of a cocker spaniel. It dive-bombed the rec square, slashing the windpipe of a woman who hadn’t even seen it coming. Without landing, it launched back into the air, circling around for another attack.

Weapons fired, but the owl stayed airborne.

Then it dived straight at Aaron.

“Get down,” Cameron yelled.

Aaron lifted his rifle, aimed down the sights.

I’m out of ammo. What am I doing?

“Duck!” John barrelled into Aaron and shoved him to the ground. At the same time, he pulled his machete and slashed at the air.

The large owl skidded into the mud, wings flapping erratically. Its lower half hit the ground separately.

Aaron rolled onto his side and watched as Cameron placed a 5.56 round in the bird’s skull.

John staggered sideways, grasping for a handhold. He let out a high-pitched chuckle and appeared confused as he turned and looked at the dead bird. “Huh? Eurasian eagle-owl. What’s that doing here?”

Aaron smiled awkwardly, an odd feeling in his tummy that something wasn’t right. And then John dropped to his knees, his hands grasping at his neck. He turned slightly, blood gushing between his fingers and wetting his beard.

Aaron leapt up. “John, no!”

Cameron grabbed Aaron and pulled him away. “Medic! We need a medic!”

A woman raced over, a satchel by her side. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and lowered John to the ground. With a cotton pad, she tried to stop the bleeding, but the gash in his throat was three inches long. Blood jetted everywhere.

The woman glanced back at Aaron, seeming to know that this man was important to him. Her expression broke the news. It told Aaron that there was nothing she could do.

John’s legs kicked gently, his heels digging tracks through the mud.

“Wait,” said Aaron. “We need to help him. We need to… Helper! Helper, we need you.”

Helper stopped what he was doing and turned. He skipped along the rec square and made it over to John. Then he stood and did nothing.

“Well?” demanded Aaron. “Help him. Heal him.”

But still Helper did not move. His fans remained by his side, flickering slightly.

John’s legs stopped kicking.

Aaron broke free of Cameron and shoved Helper. Everyone gasped, but the alien did not react. In fact, he barely budged. He turned so that his large black eyes faced Aaron. The protuberances on his face hung limply.

“Help him! Why won’t you help him?”

“Aaron. Friend. Ally.”

“Yes. Help my friend. He’s dying.”

Cameron pulled Aaron back a step. “There’s nothing anyone can do, Little English. Not even him.”

Aaron stared at John, but he was no longer there. He had changed somehow: a subtle shift from something living into something not.

“Death,” said Helper. “Death.”

Aaron wanted to punch the alien, but Helper wasn’t to blame. He wasn’t the cause of John’s death. Nor was Aaron for forcing John to save him. No, the man was dead because of a remorseless alien race who had sent a relentless fungus to cover the Earth.

Earth. Our planet.

It’s time to show them who it belongs to.

Helen came and wrapped an arm around Aaron and he allowed it, feeling strangely calm. Losing John was devastating, but it had changed something inside him. He no longer wanted to go home, or run away from the people who cared about him. He wanted to fight.

I want to fight for people. Like John, people have fought for me.

Fiona was right. This isn’t about me. It’s about us.

All of us.

“I’m heading north,” said Aaron, “and I would appreciate some company.”

Chapter Six

It had been one week since Sophie and Nancy had left Mike and Maisie in the woods. Since then, they had not met another friendly person. They had been forced, several times, to fend off attacks from strangers. The only reason they had survived was because most attackers were too weak to put up much of a fight when people fought back. The human predators sought defenceless prey, and for the time being at least, Sophie and Nancy were not defenceless.

But we will be soon. The last of our food is about to run out.

Scavenging supplies was difficult, not because everything had already been looted, but because so much of the Earth was now covered in green fuzz. Heading north had been an ordeal. They had just passed Carlisle – tantalisingly close to the Scottish border – yet, each day their available passageways narrowed. A recent attempt at passing through a town named Penrith had turned into a lost cause, forcing them to trek east, halfway towards Newcastle. They had found scraps of food along the way, but Sophie must have been two stone lighter than when they had set off over three months ago.

“I could just eat a Sunday roast,” said Nancy as they strolled along the narrow country road, “with all the trimmings. Yorkie pud, stuffing, and loads of cheesy cauliflower. I would trade anything for that.”

“Not helping,” said Sophie. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re starving, and the chance of having a Sunday roast rests right alongside meeting Jesus.”

She chuckled thinly. “Maybe we will meet Jesus. This could all be some kind of biblical end-of-the-world thing. Makes me wish I’d gone to church more.”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “Never really thought of you as a Christian, Nance.”

“I’m as Christian as anyone else,” she said, shrugging. “Nicer to believe in something than nothing, but I can’t say I ever gave it as much thought as it deserved. Perhaps that was my mistake. Maybe the world has reached a point where we needed a reminder.”

“This isn’t God, Nancy. It’s aliens, or something cooked up in a lab somewhere. We both heard what they were saying on the news when all this started. The fungus came from the sky. Naga Munchetty threw one of her fits about it.”

“Anyway, say you’re right, and it is aliens; is that any easier to believe in than God? At least with God there’s a Heaven.”

Sophie chuckled. “So you base your beliefs on whatever comes with the best rewards?”

“Hey, you got to go where you’re most valued. Whoever wants me can pay for me.” She chuckled. “What are we even talking about? I think I’m so hungry that I’m starting to go mad.”

“You went mad long before this started, Nancy. I still remember when you heckled Roy Keane at the Arndale Centre. You’re lucky he didn’t tackle you.”

“He was a dirty bugger on the pitch and he needed to hear about it.”

“Yeah, he looked really repentant after you called him an overpaid thug.”

Nancy laughed out loud, but then she suddenly lost her balance. Sophie reached out to steady her. “Hey, you okay?”

She took a moment and then nodded. “Just a little light-headed. I think I might need to stop and eat the last of our supplies. Is that okay?”

“Of course. Let’s just get off the road and take a rest. It looks like there’s a house over there. Think you can make it?”

Set a hundred metres off the overgrown B-road was a small white cottage. It appeared run-down and abandoned; a victim of the economy, not the fungus. Abandoned houses were good, because they offered somewhere safe to sleep. And sometimes they were full of mice and rats, which might offer a solution to their rumbling stomachs. They hadn’t yet captured an animal to eat, but they had discussed doing so. Both had agreed it was worth getting over their disgust if the alternative was starving to death. As long as there was no sign of green on their ratty little bodies, they were dinner.

Just need to work out how to trap and kill them.

Is this what I’ve become? Hoping to catch a rat so I can eat?

God, I hope Ryan still loves me after this.

It was surprising how ferociously the grass, weeds, and bushes had grown over the last few months. Without traffic on the roads and people on the streets, nature was making a rapid comeback. The problem was, it had competition. Competition that spread much faster. At least, for now, this stretch of countryside was still mostly ordinary.

There were a few things, however, that felt a little off.

Late autumn was usually when you saw the final leaves falling from the trees, but that was yet to happen. It was warmer than expected, too, and there was a strange scent to the air like copper pennies. Sophie didn’t know the cause, but the more she thought about it, the more it caused her concern, which wasn’t helpful to her state of mind. She tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. It was the only thing she could control.

She and Nancy trounced their way through the long grass, waist-high in places. Sophie had to hold on to her mother-in-law as they lifted their knees high. She was beginning to grow frail, seeming more and more like an old woman. Sophie didn’t know how much longer she could keep going.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep going.

But we’re nearly there. Scotland is right over the border.

But the border wasn’t their final destination. The Highlands was still a long way off, and finding Ryan relied upon him having remained in the far north. For all she knew, he could be most of the way home to Manchester. They might have missed each other as they journeyed in opposite directions. In fact, it was likely.

But there was no changing it now. She and Nancy had set out on a mission, and the only thing left was to finish it.

Or die trying.

They reached the abandoned house, stepping onto a cracked concrete slab that once would have been a driveway. A rusty trailer sat outside the house, and there was a broken shed nearby with nothing inside. The building’s windows lacked glass, but the front door was still in place. A large, old-fashioned chunk of wood.

“Looks like the place is ours,” said Sophie. “Bagsy I get the master bedroom.”

“Be my guest. I’ll take the kitchen. I’ll pretend it’s fully stocked with a great big cooker. I always wanted a range, you know?”

“One of those big things with all the burners? Yeah, those are nice. When all this is over, we’ll have our pick of homes. I might just move into Buckingham Palace if nobody else claims it first.”

Nancy laughed. It was nice to see a smile on her face. She chatted a lot, and seemed to enjoy conversation, but there was something in her eyes that was completely joyless. She was giving up. Giving up on ever finding her boys. The ordeal of walking twenty miles a day on a nearly empty stomach was becoming too difficult.

Sophie approached the cottage and tried the front door. It was locked tight and refused to move. That would mean climbing through a window, which was not a significant problem, as the two of them were impressively agile these days; no doubt due to their slender frames and constant exertion. No fat remained on their bones to weigh them down. All the same, Sophie had to help Nancy up and over the windowsill before hopping through after her. They landed inside on a bare wooden floor covered in dust and bits of rubble. In several places, the brickwork lay exposed, and a crumbling fireplace took up the centre of the room. A short hallway containing a staircase led from the living room to a moderately sized kitchen with a mouldy bathroom off the back.

Nancy looked around. “I suppose hoping for a bit of furniture was too much to ask? No bother, I’ll take a seat on the floor.”

Sophie propped her golf club against the wall, then went to help Nancy sit down on the broken tiles, but the woman waved her away.

“I’m not an invalid. I’m just tired and hungry.”

“Sure.” Sophie shrugged off her backpack and unzipped it. It was nearly empty besides a few blankets and the last of their food. She handed a two-thirds-empty packet of dried pasta to Nancy. Chewing it was horrible, but it had done the job and fed them during the last couple of days. Nancy grimaced guiltily as she took the packet.

Sophie waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m younger than you, and you need it more.”

“You’ll be old one day, Sophie. It’s not much fun.”

The thought of growing old had once been an assumed outcome, but it was now an improbability. Sophie struggled to view a future version of herself.

Tomorrow was a blank chalkboard.

She was about to sit down beside Nancy when she saw something unexpected. Standing in the kitchen doorway was a young girl, no more than twelve years old and paper thin.

“Jesus!” Sophie hopped back, taken by surprise. “Where did you come from?”

“I was upstairs,” the girl said meekly. “I live here.”

Nancy gasped, still sitting on the tiles. “You live here, sweetheart? Where are your parents?”

“Gone. It’s just me.”

“You’re here all on your own?” Sophie exhaled, thinking about Maisie, and how lucky she was to have Mike. “You poor thing. My name’s Sophie. This is Nancy. We’re friendly, okay? We didn’t mean to break in.”

“You look starving,” said Nancy, and she stood up stiffly before shuffling over to the girl. Sophie half expected the child to run away, but she didn’t. Instead, she took the pasta from Nancy and examined it.

“It’s not very tasty,” said Nancy, “but it fills your tummy just fine. Go on, dear.”

The girl reached into the bag tentatively, pulling out a piece of penne and crunching it between her teeth. It was unlikely to be enjoyable, but she swallowed it eagerly.

“I wish we could offer more,” said Nancy, “but we’re struggling ourselves. Do you know where there might be some food? We could go find it together.”

The girl took a step backwards into the doorway and turned her head towards the stairs. “They’re on their own and they have food.”

Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps on a staircase, and before Sophie even understood what was happening, three young boys appeared in the kitchen. The eldest might have been sixteen, with the beginnings of a beard and a stud through his eyebrow. He was the one who stepped to the front, a close-mouthed smirk on his lips. “Been a while since we had visitors.” He snatched the pasta from the girl. “And look, you brought us gifts.”

“That’s all we have,” said Nancy, clearing her throat and standing tall. “You’re welcome to it.”

Sophie eyed the girl. “Thought you said you were alone.”

“I lied.”

The older boy nodded at Sophie. “Hand over the backpack.”

“Fuck you, kid.”

He stepped up to her and produced a knife. Her golf club was resting up against the wall, out of reach. “What did you just say to me?”

Sophie wanted to say it again, but decided to be cautious. This boy could murder her, right here, and face no repercussions. The days of law and order had ended. “My bag’s empty,” she said. “We’re leaving.”

The smirk remained on his face. “You leave when I say you leave. Nay, check her things.”

The girl scurried forward and grabbed Sophie’s backpack. She reached inside and yanked out a sleeping blanket, letting it fall onto the tiles. Of more interest to her were the heavy-duty torches and batteries that Sophie had picked up at a DIY store. Those she handed over to the boys at the back of the room. Getting to the bottom of the backpack, she took out three plastic bottles of water – filled from the canister Mike had given them – and a pack of pork scratchings found on the floor of a grotty old pub.

“Is this it?” said the girl. “Where’s the rest of your stuff?”

“What stuff? We eat food as soon as we find it and there’s not much reason to hold on to much else.”

“There are sleeping bags and a box of lighters in my bag,” said Nancy. “Take them if you must, but there’s no need for all this nastiness.”

The boy ignored Nancy and put the tip of the blade against Sophie’s stomach, pulling her jacket to one side and eying her breasts. “You lying to me? Because if you are…”

“You’ll kill me? Yeah, I get it, you’re tough. Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re just a pair of women with nothing to offer.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” His smirk turned into a sneer, and the tip of his blade slid down towards her groin. “What’s your name, sugar? Mine’s Jake.”

Sophie looked him in the eyes. She felt herself trembling but couldn’t work out if it was from fear or anger. “Sugar? Sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but grown men don’t call women sugar. Maybe you saw that in a movie.”

The blade removed itself from her groin and found her face. A streak of pain flashed in her cheek and she jumped back, moaning. “You cut me, you little shit. What the hell are you playing at?”

“Playing?” He waved the knife at her. “You think I’m playing?”

“Calm down,” said Nancy. “Let’s just take a minute and behave ourselves.”

The boys at the back of the kitchen suddenly seemed younger, and Nancy’s firm tone cowed them. Perhaps it had been a while since an adult had told them what to do.

Jake, however, was not cowed. “You two can stay here, you know? If you play nice. It’s safe, there’s no fungus, and there’s an apple tree out back. We even catch rabbits sometimes. It’s not so bad.” He smiled at Sophie and looked her up and down. “Of course, there are conditions that need to be met. Ain’t that right, Nay?”

The girl nodded, expressionless.

Sophie understood the set-up here. Being a few years older, Jake was the only thing in these children’s lives close to resembling an adult. They clung to the only assurances left, which Jake probably gave them in spades. They obviously didn’t realise that he was nothing but an insecure bully trying to convince himself he was a leader. Sophie wanted to hate him, but to do that, she needed to know the kind of kid Jake had been three months ago.

“Look, Jake. There are no rules any more, which means we can all do what we want. But, one day, there’s going to be a reckoning, and if by any chance the world goes back to normal, you’re going to have to live with yourself. Is this really the man you want to be? If these kids are depending on you, then be a good guy for them. Take care of them in the right way.”

“The fuck you think I’m trying to do? They’re only alive because of me.”

“We owe Jake everything,” Nay protested. The two boys standing behind her nodded.

“You don’t owe him everything,” said Sophie, looking at Nay. “There are certain things you never have to give away if you don’t want to.”

Jake waved the knife again. “Shut up. It’s not as if you’re offering something better. The whole world’s fucked.”

Sophie nodded. “It is, and I guess that should mean no one needs to care any more, except that I do. I still care about how we treat one another, and you should too. So hand me the knife, Jake. Let’s change how this goes.”

Jake squinted, one eye at a time. He was a twitchy character, and it was possible he might have gone a little mad, which would hardly be surprising. The knife in his hand trembled. “Do what I tell you,” he ordered. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Sophie shook her head and took a step back, not wanting to prod the kid into lashing out. “I won’t do what you say. Try something else.”

He gritted his teeth, knife trembling even more. “I’ll fucking gut you.”

“No, you won’t. You’re a good kid. I can tell. Before all this, I bet you were just a normal young lad, kicking a football around and vibing with the girls at school, right?”

The knife trembled even more. “You don’t know anything.”

Nancy put a hand out. “Come on, don’t do anything silly. Just listen to Sophie. She wants to help.”

“Shut it, you old slag.” He kept the knife pointed at Sophie and took a step forward. “You’re pissing me off,” he warned. “Get down on the ground. Nay, come tie her up.”

Sophie took another step back. “Don’t do what he says, Nay. This isn’t happening, okay?”

The girl appeared unsure about what to do. She kept attempting to take a step and changing her mind until Jake raised his voice and she finally got moving. Sophie took one more step backwards, and her hands found her golf club. Nay tried to grab her, but she shoved the girl away and swung at Jake’s head.

Even in these dark times, she had never killed anyone, and it reassured her that she found it so horrifying. The club struck Jake in the temple and sent his left eyeball popping out of its socket. His body struck the tiles and flopped about. It looked like he was trying to walk, but his legs were in the air. It took almost a full minute for him to go still.

Nay stared at Sophie in horror.

Sophie reached out a hand to her. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you now. We’re going to take–”

The girl screamed, then knelt beside Jake’s body and cradled it. “What did you do? What did you do?”

Sophie shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the headache she had coming. She wondered if caving in a few more skulls would relieve the tension, but that was a dangerous notion.

I can’t let violence overtake me. These children are just scared.

Sophie opened her eyes again and studied the three young boys at the back of the kitchen. They looked ready to piss themselves.

Nay continued to scream and admonish Sophie, but Sophie didn’t care. She stepped away from the corpse and stood with Nancy, who was shaking her head and staring at Jake’s bloody skull. “What did you do?” she said. “I thought we were going to talk things out.”

“The kid was a rapist. That girl is no older than twelve, and it looked like he was ready to have his way with me, too. Fuck him.”

“Sophie, he was just a boy.”

“A boy who wanted to be a man. That means consequences. Come on.” She picked up her backpack, shoving the blanket back inside.

“Where are we going?”

“To search this place for anything we can find, and then we’re going to take as many apples from that tree outside as we can carry.”

Nancy gasped. “But it belongs to these children.”

“It belongs to whoever’s willing to take it.”

“Sophie…”

“Move, Nancy. I’m not going to ask you again.”

Sophie left the kitchen and headed upstairs, bloody golf club by her side.

Chapter Seven

Aaron had left Culdrake’s ruins five days ago. Alongside him were Boon, Cameron, Fiona, Helen, and three soldiers who wanted to tag along. Helper skipped along behind everyone, and they were all heading for the Scottish Highlands, specifically to the village of Choirikell, where Aaron knew the location of several corkscrews.

The fungus appeared more and more frequently as they headed deeper into Scotland. Fortunately, Helper had a method of keeping it at bay. Whenever they set down their bedrolls, in whatever natural shelter or abandoned building they found, the alien would vibrate his fans. Somehow, it kept the fungus from creeping near. They hadn’t originally set off with the alien in tow – Aaron had assumed the remains of the army would take the alien south with them – but upon the first night after leaving Culdrake, Helper had awoken them with his usual litany of: Ally. Helper. Friend.

The temperature was milder than Aaron would have expected it to be, but a constant drizzle kept everyone damp. It was only Boon’s training, and the lessons John had imparted to Aaron, that made life bearable. Every night, they set a fire to sleep beside, and whenever the weather grew particularly blustery, they bivouacked in whatever crevices they could find in the rocky landscape. They were poorly armed and poorly equipped after leaving Culdrake in such a rush, but they were doing okay, averaging fifteen miles a day by Boon’s prediction. It had put them nearly halfway to their destination.

Boon pulled up the sleeve of her camo shirt and glanced at her watch. “It’s time to make camp. Anyone disagree?”

Nobody did, so they shrugged off their packs and set them on the ground. Culdrake had been an infectious mess after the attack, so they had only grabbed a few supplies before leaving, which Aaron supplemented by hitting uninfected rabbits with his .22. Cameron had also shot a starving fox with his SA80, but the 5.56mm round had obliterated the animal too much to eat.

Aaron propped his rifle against a large boulder at the side of the road. They had kept mostly to the main roads because it was easier going and allowed them to follow the traffic signs. The last one had indicated they were approaching the village of Comrie, which they would seek to avoid. They always endeavoured to skirt around the various pockets of civilisation, because it was much safer out in the open, where they could see any threats coming.

“I’ll go fetch some sticks to burn,” said Cameron, walking off on his own. The last few days had been unkind to the big Scot, and his face was grey and baggy. Losing Culdrake had struck him hard.

“I’ll come with you,” said Aaron, and he caught up to Cameron as he headed off-road. Deep in the wilderness, it was easy to find bushes and trees to use as firewood. Everyone had knives – Aaron, the machete that had belonged to John – so cutting the wood wasn’t difficult. Finding patches of ground free of fungus was the only challenge, but, fortunately, Boon had stopped them in a clean area. Helper was nearby if they needed to push the spread back a few metres.

Cameron moved up to a spindly tree with a whitish bark. Aaron knew little about trees, but he thought this one was pretty. It was almost a shame when they started hacking at its limbs.

“You doing okay?” asked Aaron, noticing Cameron wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Grand. You?”

“I’ve been better. I’m sorry.”

Cameron eyed him as he prepared to slash at a new branch. “Fer what?”

“For thinking this was all about me. What we’re doing now is for all the places like Culdrake that are still holding on.”

Cameron lowered his blade and grunted. “We were supposed to defend Culdrake, and we failed. We failed all those people.”

“They didn’t all die, Cameron. We fought back. A lot of us made it.”

“Aye. But Culdrake nae did. It were the first place I ever felt I belonged, and now it’s gone.”

Aaron hacked at the branches for a while, wishing he knew what to say. He had never seen Cameron depressed. His sense of humour had gone, and he no longer displayed the brash self-confidence that had caused him to butt heads with Ryan so often in the beginning. Aaron decided to give him some space, so he took an armful of branches and went and deposited them in the middle of the road.

Boon’s soldiers were in the process of fastening a large groundsheet to four large sticks they carried with them everywhere. The canopy would capture the heat of the fire and keep everyone dry. Boon was gathering rocks to radiate warmth. The entire drill was second nature by now after their five-day camping trip. It surprised Aaron to find he actually enjoyed pitching camp. He enjoyed the company of his friends.

Enjoy was possibly the wrong word, though. He wasn’t happy, but he was content. No longer was he drifting from empty minute to empty minute. His life had a new-found purpose. There was a reason to wake up every morning.

Fiona unwrapped some of the rabbit meat they had left and poked it with her finger. Somehow, she had become the group’s unofficial cook, and she, too, seemed to enjoy having a purpose.

Aaron sat beside her. “Cameron is really suffering.”

She raised an eyebrow and huffed. “We’re trekking fifteen miles a day during an apocalypse; who isn’t suffering?”

“Good point. I just thought he would agree with how important this is. We need to hit back at the enemy. We need to fight. Usually that’s what Cam’s all about.”

“He understands, Aaron. Give him some time. If he didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t be. All of us understand what needs to be done.”

“Aye,” said Helen, coming to join them. “I’m looking forward to going home and seeing what the fungus and flames have done with the place.” She looked down and sighed. “I can find my boy and put him to rest properly.”

“We’ll look for him,” said Fiona, placing a hand on Helen’s arm. “Once we do what we have to do, we’ll find him.”

Helen smiled grimly. “Thank you.”

Aaron had expected Helen’s mood to worsen the closer they got to the village where she had lost her son, but the opposite happened. No longer drunk, she seemed confident and strong. Maybe, like Aaron, she had just needed a mission to set her mind to.

“We can look for your brother, too,” said Fiona. “We can find Ryan.”

Aaron looked down at the road and picked up a chunk of grit, rolling it between his finger and thumb. “How would I even recognise him in the rubble? The whole village burned.”

Helen shrugged. “Perhaps just being back at the place our loved ones died will be enough to say our goodbyes. We never had a chance before, but if our plan works, we might get a little time to make our peace.”

Aaron chucked the piece of grit and blew air out of his nostrils. “You’re right. It might help.”

“Certainly can’t make it any worse,” said Helen.

Fiona chuckled to herself, and when they both turned to her, she started to explain what had tickled her. “When I was a kid,” she said, “back before I screwed my life up royally, I used to visit this little stream near my house. It was more of a ditch, really, and it filled up every time there was heavy rain. At certain times of the year, you could catch newts and frogs and stuff, so a lot of kids would go there to hang out. I was no different, but because my mum worked as a barmaid in the evenings, I never had to go home when my friends did. She would get back well after midnight, so I could pretty much stay out as late as I wanted. Anyway, sometimes I would stay at the stream until dark, and this one year, a fox appeared. Obviously, I shit my pants. The thing was big, like the size of a cocker spaniel or something, and I worried it was going to bite me. It didn’t, though. It kept its distance and trotted right into the stream. Then it started splashing about like it was playing and having fun. It was trying to catch the newts and frogs, but back then, I didn’t know any better. It was beautiful. A moment where the world was just right.”

Aaron chuckled. “Don’t foxes carry rabies?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “This one didn’t. Anyway, the next night, I hung around the stream again, and the fox came back at the exact same time. It was cautious of me, but not afraid, and once again it splashed in the water, having even more fun than the last time.”

“Let me guess,” said Helen. “It came back the next night too?”

“For over a week. I started tossing it bits of sandwich meat, and it stayed longer and longer every night.”

Aaron smiled. “Cute.”

“But then it stopped coming,” said Fiona abruptly. “I came back three nights in a row, but the fox was never there. I spotted it on the main road a few days later when I was walking along the verge to buy sweets at the petrol station.”

“That sucks,” said Helen.

Fiona nodded. “He was plastered all over the road. I could only tell it was him because of the lumps of orange fur. I knew it was my friend lying there. He had probably got run over on his way to the stream – on his way to see me. I cried my eyes out for a week.”

“Is there a point to this story?” asked Helen, a little mean-spiritedly. Then she grimaced. “Sorry. Just wondering.”

“Yes, there’s a point. After the fox died, I avoided the stream because it was too painful, until one night, weeks later, I went back. I sat down at the side of the water and pictured the fox splashing about in the water and having fun. I remembered how much joy it had filled me with, watching it. Then I realised I was feeling joy all over again, just by being there and remembering. I said goodbye to the fox – hoping its spirit would hear me – and suddenly this weight lifted. After that, whenever I felt sad, I would go spend some time by the stream and things would get better.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “So, your point is that I can say goodbye to Ryan just by making it back to Choirikell?”

“Or maybe my point is that we all end up as roadkill eventually, so let’s enjoy what we have while we have it.”

Aaron looked down at the scraps of rabbit flesh in her hands and wrinkled his nose. “For we are truly blessed.”

“Oi,” said Boon, standing in the road. “You three get your arses in gear. If this rain picks up, we’re going to end up sodden. I was thinking we might be able to build a decent lean-to and have a late start in the morning. We could all use a rest.”

“You’re telling me,” said Fiona, leaning over and pressing at the toe of her dirty white trainer. “I have blisters on my feet the size of walnuts.”

Aaron wasn’t sure he liked the idea of resting when their mission was so important, but he had to admit his entire body could do with a break. “Yeah. Some extra sleep would be good.”

“It’s decided then,” said Boon, “but no one rests until we make camp, so on your feet and get to work.”

Aaron hopped up to get more firewood while Fiona and Helen organised supplies. Cameron was far off, hacking at a large, lopsided bush. Boon gathered her three men to build a lean-to. Helper was staring off into the distance. At first, the alien appeared to be resting, which he did whenever they stopped, but then Aaron saw a dark shape in the distance moving down the centre of the road.

“What is that?” asked Aaron, forgetting that the alien wasn’t much of a conversationalist. It startled him when Helper gave a reply.

“Dog.”

Aaron frowned, but then realised it was indeed a dog racing towards them. It was large and dark-coloured. Dusk was on its way, which made it hard to see clearly, but there was no doubt that a large hound was heading their way. Fast.

“Shite.” Aaron turned and searched for his rifle. He grabbed it from the large boulder he had propped it against and hurried back to Helper’s side. Aiming down the iron sights, he brought the rifle to bear on his target. It was rare for an infected animal to be so quick, as their bodies were usually in too poor a state to sprint or pounce. This dog was moving at breakneck speed.

“Canine. Dog. Pet.”

Aaron tried to keep his crosshairs on the bounding animal, and the closer it got, the larger a target it became. But he needed to hold off long enough to hit the target with certainty. Miss, and he might not get a second chance.

Behind him, Boon barked orders. Everyone grabbed their weapons.

Aaron prepared to pull the trigger.

Mixed in with the dog’s brown fur was a flash of colour.

Not green.

Red.

Blood?

Aaron held his breath, readying to take the shot. He was just about to squeeze the trigger when he focused once again on the flash of red coming from the dog’s mouth.

Is that…

A ball?

The dog had a red rubber ball in its mouth and was whipping its tail like a propeller as it bounded towards them. Aaron pulled his eye back from the rifle and scanned ahead. A second shape was coming down the road, and while he couldn’t be sure, he thought he heard a distant voice.

Boon stepped up beside Aaron and levelled her rifle. “Stand back.”

“No,” said Aaron. “It’s not infected. It’s just a dog.”

Boon glanced at him. “Starving and dangerous, no doubt.”

Aaron grabbed her arm, seeing that she still intended on shooting. She glared at him, about to spit venom, but he interrupted her. “It has a ball in its mouth. Look!”

Boon frowned, then squinted through her scope. “Well, I’ll be damned. Okay, nobody shoot, but be ready.”

They stood and waited while the dog continued bounding towards them. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth, the ball taking up most of the space between its jaws. Its tail was a blur behind it.

“Looks like a German shepherd,” said Fiona. “My granddad used to have one. Said his squad adopted a stray during the war and he fell in love with the breed.”

“It’s big,” said Aaron, trying not to focus on the fact that most things that ran at you nowadays wanted to kill you.

“Gentle giants,” said Helen, and she strode into the road ahead of them.

“Get back,” Boon warned. “You’re blocking my shot.”

Fiona knelt and put an arm out in front of her, fingers outstretched. She held the position for three seconds until the excited dog reached her. Rather than sniff her fingers, it leapt up and knocked her backwards.

Aaron raised his rifle, but when he realised Fiona was laughing, he held off from firing. The dog’s red ball had rolled to the side of the road and it was now licking at Fiona’s face, yipping with delight.

“It’s friendly,” said Boon, relieved as if she had suspected it wouldn’t be.

Aaron turned back to face the road and saw a man sprinting and waving his arms. “Here comes the owner. What do we do?”

“Ask me in ninety seconds,” said Boon. “Everyone keep their guards up. We haven’t seen another person since leaving camp.”

“He’s friendly,” the stranger shouted frantically. “He’s okay.”

Aaron looked at the dog and chuckled. There was no doubt about the animal being friendly. It had soaked Fiona’s entire beaming face in saliva. He lowered his weapon and waved. This apparently reassured the stranger because their sprint became a jog.

The stranger stopped ten feet away, panting and clutching at his ribs. “S-Sorry… he… gets… oh Jesus… excited.”

Fiona sat up with the dog wiggling beneath her arm. “You can say that again. What’s the dog’s name?”

“Ranger.”

Boon frowned. “Ranger?”

The stranger nodded. He was a teenager, with a lean body. “I came to Scotland two years ago to play for Celtic’s youth team,” he explained. “When shit went down, though, I was playing at Dundee on loan to get some experience. Guess I’ll never make the senior squad now. Anyway, Ranger isn’t my dog, but when I found him a couple of months back, I named him after my club. Mainly so I could tell people this story about how I almost became a super-rich footballer.”

Boon was smiling, which wasn’t unusual, but for once she seemed genuinely thrilled. Both of her canines were on display, which Aaron was still drawn to look at. “It’s wonderful to find someone alive up here,” she said. “How have you been surviving on your own?”

The young lad shrugged. “By not staying in one place mainly. It’s pretty empty out here, which I think is a good thing. The cities are probably in bad shape, huh?”

“Edinburgh is safe,” said Boon.

He jolted. “For real? And here I’ve been, walking around like the last man and dog on Earth.”

Aaron chuckled. “Like Will Smith.”

“Huh?”

“The film, you know?”

The teenager shrugged.

“Never mind.”

“So your dog’s name is Ranger,” said Boon. “What’s yours?”

The teenager offered a handshake. “Name’s Teddy Blanchett. I’m nineteen years old and I hail from the great town of Wigan. My likes are Chinese food, nightclubs, and, of course, football. My dislikes are green fungus and choking on your own spit. I mean, what is that about? Seems like a design flaw.”

Boon chuckled, and Aaron realised he was doing the same. How on earth had this young man survived all alone while keeping such a positive attitude? Teddy was clearly pleased to find somebody else, but instead of acting shocked, he chatted like they were old friends down the pub. It was nice. Aaron liked him immediately.

“I’m Aaron. This is Sergeant Boon.”

“And I’m Fiona.” She fought to keep Ranger from licking her again. “I love your dog.”

Teddy smirked. “He seems to like you, too. You don’t happen to have any food, do you? It’s, um, been a few days.”

Boon sighed. “We have very little, but we’ll share what we have. Maybe later we can try to hunt another rabbit.”

“Plenty of ’em around,” said Teddy. “Some of ’em are even the right colour. In fact, I think I…” He trailed off. For the first time, he noticed Helper standing eight feet behind them. Their bodies had obscured the alien, but he was visible now.

“It’s okay,” said Aaron. “He’s, um…”

“Our friend,” said Fiona. “Or pet. Not entirely sure which.”

Aaron nodded. “He’s an alien, but not the same as those that sent the fungus. His planet was invaded too, so he came here to help us.”

“Friend. Ally,” said Helper.

“You see?” Aaron chuckled. “He’s good people.”

Teddy didn’t speak for a moment. Then he put his hands on top of his head and said, “Are you guys kidding me? This shit is crazy AF. I thought I was lucky finding a dog, but you legends found an alien. Respect.”

“Well,” said Boon, chuckling, “he’s not really a pet, but yeah, he’s with us. We’re on a mission, but we’re going to rest up for a while. You’re welcome to camp with us.”

Teddy eyed the alien. “That thing won’t eat Ranger?”

“I can’t guarantee it,” said Boon, “but it’s unlikely.”

“Then hell yes, I’ll spend a night with you guys. I want to hear all about this mission of yours. You’re army, right?”

“Not all of us,” said Boon, “but some.”

“Well, thanks for being so cool.”

“You’re welcome, although you’re going to have to work for your keep. We need firewood. Rocks. Leaves. We’re already losing daylight.”

Teddy clicked his fingers. “Hey, don’t fret it. You know who you’re looking at? Teddy Blanchett, the fastest left back in Glasgow. I’ll get what you need. Come on, Ranger.”

Teddy and his dog took off at impressive speed. Aaron and Boon shared glances, both of them smiling. Cameron watched from a distance.

Chapter Eight

“So, you’ve really been out here all by yourself?” Boon asked as she sat beside the campfire in the middle of the road. With the grass so long everywhere, it was safer to stack the firewood on the tarmac, not to mention that the hard surface captured the heat. Fiona and Helen had gone to fetch more firewood to keep it going. Boon’s soldiers had erected a lean-to with the tarp and some branches. It was something of a luxury these days.

“Pretty much by myself, yeah,” said Teddy, stroking Ranger, the two of them nestled on a leafy bed. “I come across people now and then, but most of them are lost souls, if you know what I mean. They aren’t bad, just unpredictable. Most are too afraid to do anything besides run and hide.”

“But not you,” said Aaron. “How have you managed to keep going?”

Teddy glanced at Ranger, who had his muzzle propped on his two front paws. “This beauty helped a lot. The world has ended, but Ranger hasn’t changed one bit. Long as my friend gets a meal every day, and lots of belly rubs, life is good. I try to be like Ranger. Only thing I worry myself about is getting enough food and water to stay alive. Anything beyond that gets too heavy to deal with. You have to simplify things or you’ll go crazy.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Boon. She glanced over at Cameron, who was lying separate from everyone else by a few metres. “Sometimes our humanity is too much of a burden to carry. Good men suffer worst.”

Teddy frowned. “Um, yeah, that’s kind of what I’m saying. Anyway, why are you all heading into the middle of nowhere? What’s in the Highlands, other than a whole heap of fungus?”

“The fungus is the point,” said Aaron. “We’re going to destroy the corkscrews that landed in a village called Choirikell.”

Teddy frowned. “Corkscrews?”

“The objects that fell to earth at the beginning of all this,” said Boon. “They brought the fungus. Destroying them is how we fight back.”

Teddy nodded over towards Helper, who was standing silently at the side of the road. “Your pet alien tell you that?”

“Yes, actually,” said Aaron. He studied the alien for a moment and chuckled. “He doesn’t use a lot of words, but he gets his point across. Mostly, he communicates through images.”

Teddy raised an eyebrow. “That’s cool. I guess it makes sense that an alien creature might communicate differently to us. You guys are sure you can trust that thing, though, right? I mean, he’s not going to get inside our heads and control us or anything?”

Aaron felt oddly offended by the accusation. As different as he might be, Helper was part of their group. “He’s shown no signs of being telepathic. Everything he has done has been to help us. I got infected and he cured me. I would be a green right now if not for him.”

“Infected. For real?” Teddy fidgeted uncomfortably. “That sucks.”

“I’m fine now. It was days ago. I would have turned already.”

Boon nodded. “We’re cautious, obviously, but at this point, what is there to lose by trusting a shiny blue alien? I’d trust Barney the purple dinosaur right now if he offered to help.”

Teddy pursed his lips and nodded. “A’ight then. Well, I’m just glad there’re still people out here fighting. Maybe I should have been doing more of that myself. All I’ve done is think about my own survival. Wish I’d had big guns like yours.” He eyed up Boon’s SA80. “Sure it’s easier to be brave with one of those.”

“We were part of a larger group,” said Boon. “It changes things. Fighting back is less frightening when there are people beside you.”

Aaron glanced at Cameron, wishing he could help ease his friend’s grief. “And there are worse things than death. Once you realise that, things get easier.”

“Wow,” said Teddy. “You folks is deep!”

Boon and Aaron chuckled.

Fiona and Helen returned to the camp with more wood. They tossed the branches onto a pile beside the fire, which hissed in anger at the drizzling rain. Helen’s knees clicked, and Fiona shuddered as the two of them sat down cross-legged and warmed their hands over the flames. “It’s getting colder,” she said. “We might have to think about looking for some decent camping equipment in the nearest village. More blankets, at the very least.”

Helen nodded. “Or we’re going to need to start building bigger fires.”

“Makes ye wonder,” said Cameron, finally – he was lying on his back, just outside the lean-to, with his hands behind his head – “how a young fella like Teddy can survive out here with only the clothes on his back.”

Boon frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Cameron didn’t move. He remained on his back, staring up at the stars. “Just sayin’ it’s strange our guest nae has so much as a spare pair of socks.”

Aaron huffed, assuming Cameron’s foul mood was airing. He had always had a problem with newcomers, so it was hardly surprising he wanted to pick a fight now, but this time he had a point. “He’s right. Where’s your stuff, Teddy? You and Ranger are both clean and fed, but you turned up with no camping gear, food, or anything.”

Teddy shifted awkwardly, straightening both his legs and rubbing at his thighs. He might have been preparing to leap up and run, but he remained sitting. “I didn’t want to say anything until I knew you guys were okay, but there’s an old country park down the road. It used to have animals and a couple of playgrounds. I let the animals go, but I’ve been living off their food. Bags and bags of grain, dried vegetables, stuff like that. The gift shop is carpeted, so I’ve been sleeping there.”

“Can always smell a liar,” said Cameron. “Worse than a fart.”

Boon waved a hand. “All right, settle down, Cam.”

“Yeah, okay, I sorta lied,” Teddy admitted, “but only because it would have been stupid to just come out and tell you. I got robbed half a dozen times in the early days. It wasn’t until I found the country park that I managed to keep safe. If people know about it, they’ll take it from me.”

“So what were you doing out on the road?” asked Aaron.

“Ranger and I like to take walks, to check for approaching threats, if nothing else. If Ranger hadn’t bounded off like a maniac, I would have hidden from you guys. Hiding is my thing.”

“Well, we’re not interested in taking anything from you,” said Boon. “We’ll see you back home safely before carrying on north.”

Boon turned to Cameron, who was still lying on his back. “Satisfied?”

“Nae problem with me, Sarge. Although, if the lad’s so well fed, why did he ask for our food?”

Just when Aaron thought the matter resolved, he was once again filled with nagging suspicions. He looked at Teddy once more, trying to see if there was anything about him that didn’t add up. “You said it had been a couple of days since you’d eaten. Another lie?”

Teddy rubbed at his face and sighed. He wore several glittery rings on his fingers, which made sense for an aspiring footballer. “I’ve been eating well, true that, but it’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything besides animal feed. I was hoping you guys would have some meat. Thought I could smell it.”

Aaron still tasted the cooked rabbit they had eaten, and he thought about how he would feel if he’d been existing on grain for months. He decided Teddy’s answer was reasonable. He had been dishonest, yes, but there had been no reason for him to trust them with the truth.

“Look,” said Teddy, “I get that the big man don’t trust me. Some things never change, I guess, but I’m just a kid out here on my own. If you want me to leave, I will. It was nice meeting you, all the same.” He went to stand up.

“Sit down,” said Boon, waving a hand. “Cameron likes to growl before he licks. He’s a surprisingly likeable guy once you get to know him. You’re welcome to share our fire, Teddy.”

“You can even come with us to Choirikell,” said Aaron. “If you want.”

“Although I probably wouldn’t recommend it,” said Fiona. “Unless you like kamikaze missions.”

Teddy crossed his legs and put his hands in his lap, a little more relaxed. “I’ll think about it. I know Ranger would like some new people to play with.”

Upon hearing his name, the dog wagged its tail. The red rubber ball was next to its paw, and it nudged it with a glistening brown nose.

“Okay,” said Boon, clapping her hands. “We decided we would rest up and recharge our batteries, so let’s not waste our chance. Everyone, get your head down. We’ll make a plan in the morning. Any volunteers for first watch?”

One of Boon’s soldiers offered. A quiet man with a thick blonde beard. He shouldered his weapon and stood up, while everyone else bedded down on their makeshift mattresses. Helen handed out blankets from her pack. They would have to remain near the fire beneath the lean-to to keep the drizzle from soaking through their clothing. Fiona had been right; they couldn’t go much longer without finding proper camping gear.

Cameron spread his mattress further away from the fire than the others, but he was close enough to hear when Aaron whispered to him. “Hey, Cam, don’t give up on me, okay? That night on the platform, when Ed died, you were there for me. Now, I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Just tell me.”

Cameron rolled onto his side and grunted. “Get some sleep, Little English. Goodnight.”

Aaron sighed. “See you in the morning.”

Aaron must have fallen right to sleep, as he did most nights lately. There was something about an open sky and crackling fire. Perhaps mankind had overcomplicated things. Mere months ago, videogames had been the most important thing in his life. Now, he was content just lying beneath the stars with nothing but his own thoughts.

As usual, Ryan and his mam tried to visit him in the silence. At first, he fought them away, but then he remembered John’s advice and let them in. What he feared would become a nightmare became something pleasant. His family were together again.

He woke up when someone nudged him. Instinctively, he went to complain, but a hand clamped over his mouth. Struggling did him no good; his attacker was too strong.

Cameron put a finger to his lips and shushed him. “It’s only me. Keep quiet.”

Aaron nodded. Cameron removed his hand, allowing him to speak. “What are you doing, Cam? It’s the middle of the night. Is the fungus here?”

“Our wee guest is up to something. Look.”

Aaron turned his head and saw a figure standing at the edge of camp. It could have been whoever was on guard, but the silhouette did indeed resemble Teddy’s wiry frame. But it didn’t mean he was up to anything. Cameron hadn’t trusted John at first either.

Or Ryan.

Cameron never trusts anyone.

“I knew that lad was bad news the moment he trotted up with a smile on his face. His story nae adds up, Little English.”

“Why not?”

“Think about how ye’d be, surviving on yer own for three months. Ye’d be off yer heid, eh?”

Aaron kept his voice to a whisper. “Some people are stronger than others. For all we know, he might have had a dozen mental breakdowns.”

“Maybe. But why’s he up and aboot now? He waited fer everyone to fall asleep.”

As much as Aaron disliked Cameron’s cynicism, he respected him too much not to at least give the benefit of the doubt. He lay silently and watched as Teddy moved around the camp. There was no sign of whoever was on guard duty, which was concerning by itself. When Teddy bent down and took Boon’s rifle, it was pretty clear that something was horribly wrong.

“That’s my cue,” said Cameron, and he leapt to his feet, snatching up his rifle. Aaron likewise grabbed his .22. “Put the weapon doon, yer sneaky pile o’ shit! I’m onto ye. I were onto ye the moment ye turned up.” His bellows woke everybody, and all hands reached for their weapons.

Teddy spun around with the rifle in his hands, but he kept it pointed at the ground. When Boon realised he had taken it, she leapt up and tried to grab it, but he struck her in the face with the stock and then aimed at her chest. “I’ll shoot her,” he warned, anxiety rife in his voice. “Nobody make me do anything stupid, okay? Just chill.”

Helper was standing off in the grass, blue skin shimmering under the moonlight. He was silent, seemingly unaware of any threat. Ranger, however, barked non-stop.

“What are you doing?” demanded Aaron, annoyed that he had trusted this stranger.

“I was just getting out of here,” said Teddy. “You people don’t know what it’s like here. You can’t trust anybody and everybody is out to take what’s yours. Weapons make life a whole lot easier. I’m taking this and leaving, okay? My need is greater than yours.” He looked left and right, seeming to peer into the darkness. In a quieter voice, he said, “Look, you don’t want to push me on this. Let me leave and you might get to keep the rest.”

Aaron frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Teddy peered into the darkness again, as if he saw something out there. “I like you guys, so I’m going to give you some advice. If I were you, I would head back the way I came, okay?”

Cameron strode forward, rifle pointed. “Ye got three seconds to live or die. Put down the rifle, eh, and I’ll let ye choose which.”

Teddy shook his head. “Soon as I do that, you’ll shoot me.” He chuckled to himself. “My mom’s always said Scotland was a dangerous place for a black man.”

“Stop with that bullshit,” said Cameron. “I dinnae care aboot the colour of yer skin. I care aboot the fact yer trying to steal from us. Two seconds left, lad. Time to make a choice.”

“You shoot me, I shoot her.”

Boon stared at Cameron, and for once her face had no hint of a smile. She wanted Cameron to shoot, but she was terrified of how things might go down.

Cameron swallowed and licked his lips. “Yer’ve been watching too many films, lad. Ever seen the kick from one of these bad boys? By the time you even think about pulling yer trigger, yer dead body will be ten feet doon the road.”

From the way Teddy held Boon’s rifle, it seemed unlikely he even knew how to use it. Despite that, he acted strangely confident as he straightened up and faced Cameron head on. “I was hoping to do this quietly,” he said. “All we want are your weapons.”

Aaron frowned. “You said we again.”

Teddy smirked. “Me and Ranger of course.”

Boon leapt up off the ground and snatched at her rifle.

There was a deafening clack as a weapon discharged.

Boon crumpled sidewards, landing right on top of the fire. She made no sound and didn’t move, even as her body burned.

Teddy ducked and fired his rifle, clearly more familiar than he had made out. From the way Boon’s body had fallen, Aaron was certain it hadn’t been him who had shot Boon. Then one of Boon’s soldiers crumpled to the road, dead, and it became clear they were under fire.

“Everyone get down,” Aaron cried out.

Cameron took a shot at Teddy, but the darkness beyond the campfire was total, and he melted into it like a ghost. Fiona and Helen tried to grab Boon’s body from the fire, but a shot struck the road at their feet and sent them scrambling. Meanwhile, Aaron stood stock-still, his .22 aimed at nothing. It felt like he was standing on a landmine. If he moved, he was dead.

More shots hit the road. Another of Boon’s soldiers fell.

Aaron tried to see the enemy, but darkness surrounded the road.

Cameron swore, firing off several bursts from his rifle. Helen took potshots with her pistol.

We’re going to die, thought Aaron. Right here on this road in the middle of nowhere.

I’m even further from home than before.

Teddy leapt out of the darkness, re-emerging into the light of the campfire. He shoved the muzzle of Boon’s rifle into Aaron’s side and shouted, “Drop your weapons.”

Aaron allowed his .22 to fall to the floor as he raised his hands above his head.

Boon’s remaining soldier fell victim to a headshot, his skull exploding. Helen and Fiona put their hands in the air, their pistols tucked harmlessly into their waistbands. Only Cameron remained armed. He ducked and dodged, making himself a hard target. “What the feck is going on?” he roared. “I’ll feckin’ kill ye.”

Teddy positioned himself behind Aaron and prodded the barrel against his spine. “You got about three seconds to live or die, mate. Your choice. Now drop it.”

“Just do it,” said Aaron. “I don’t want anyone else to die.”

Boon’s body had stifled the fire, but wisps of black smoke escaped from beneath her as her flesh smouldered. Cameron’s face was bright red with rage, but fortunately he was still rational enough to understand that they were screwed. He tossed his rifle onto the grass and laced his fingers behind his head. “I’ll make yer pay fer this,” he warned, spitting through his thick red beard. “Mark me words, Teddy boy.”

Torches flicked on at both sides of the road, bobbing amongst the shrubs and long grass. A dozen at least.

“Who are you people?” asked Aaron. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we’re at war,” said Teddy. He sighed, sounding exhausted. “The only way to survive up here is to take whatever’s left, and weapons make that a whole lot easier. But don’t worry, all right. The doc will probably let you go if you do what you’re told.”

Aaron frowned. “The doc?”

“Yeah. He’s the boss around these parts. In fact, here comes the man himself.” Teddy stood up straight and faced the road. “Hey, boss. I tried to do things quietly, but the big one only pretended to be asleep.”

An older man wearing military fatigues stepped into the light of the smouldering campfire. His scraggly beard was as much black as it was grey, and ashen flesh bulged beneath his eyes. There was something familiar about him.

Fiona gasped. “Doctor Gerard?”

He frowned, the bags beneath his eyes crinkling. “Have we met?”

Cameron took a step forward, shaking his head in disbelief. “Aye, ye took care of us, once. Not so long ago.”

The doctor nodded, as if remembering. “Then allow me to take care of you again. Do as you’re told and no harm shall come to you.”

A collection of grizzled men and women stepped out of the darkness, half of them toting firearms. A few wore combat fatigues.

Helper skipped alongside the road, finally seeming to sense something was wrong. “Friend. Ally. Helper.”

Dr Gerard’s face contorted in horror.

Everything happened in slow motion.

Aaron cried out. “Don’t shoot!”

But everybody did.

Helper wheeled around on three legs as the bullets hit him like a swarm of angry bees. Dozens of rounds ricocheted off of his hard flesh, but several seemed to take root, opening up gushing fountains of thick sapphire blood. The alien screeched and whipped its fans, ready to fight.

“No,” said Aaron, not wanting anyone else to die. Not even the arseholes who had just killed Boon and her men. He threw out an arm. “Helper, run. Run!”

Helper staggered back, clearly injured. His large black eyes directed themselves at Aaron, and for a moment, he was certain the alien was looking only at him.

“Helper. Get out of here. Leave. Run. Retreat.”

In a flash, Helper pivoted on his middle leg and sprang into the darkness at the edge of the road. Gone.

“What on earth was that thing?” Dr Gerard demanded. He had a handgun and was scanning the shadows with it. There was a slight trembling to his wrist.

Teddy kept his rifle buried in Aaron’s spine. “Fucked if I know. They said it’s an alien that came to help us all. It seemed pretty harmless until now. Did you see those blades on its arms? It was ready to slice itself some human ham.”

“He’s friendly,” said Aaron. “He’s on our side and you shot him.”

“There are no sides any more,” said Dr Gerard, straightening the dirty cuffs of his combat fatigues. “Only the strong and the weak. We’ll find out soon which you are.” He turned to his people. “Gather their weapons and put everyone in the wagon.”

“Yessir.”

Cameron struggled as someone produced a set of cable ties and wrestled his wrists behind his back, but it was a half-hearted attempt, his fighting spirit having deserted him since the loss of Choirikell.

Aaron had to admit it was deserting him too.

Teddy cable-tied Aaron’s wrists behind his back and led him along the road. Ranger trotted along beside them, wagging his tail. “I’m really sorry about this, kid. The plan was to rob your weapons and leave you be. Didn’t plan on anyone dying.”

“You’re thieves and murderers. We came here to fight the fungus and try to help everyone. People like you are the reason we’re so close to losing in the first place.”

“Open your eyes, kid. We lost this battle on day one.”

“No.” Aaron shook his head repeatedly. “There’s still a future. We just have to fight for it.”

Teddy barged him with a shoulder, forcing him to walk faster. “There ain’t no future left. I was going to be a professional footballer. Do you know what that means? It means I was going to have a life swimming in money and pussy. Instead, I’m sleeping on an air bed every night and wanking myself off to memories of the girls I used to fuck. There ain’t nothing left for us now except animal instinct and survival of the strongest.”

“The fittest.”

“What?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “It’s survival of the fittest. Not the strongest.”

“Whatever. You take what you need and fuck every other tribe that ain’t yours.”

“If that’s what life is, then what’s the point?”

“Maybe there ain’t one. All the same, my tribe is powerful and yours is weak. That means you lose.”

“We all lose.”

With nothing else left to say, Aaron allowed himself to be escorted down the road. His friends were behind him, suffering the same fate. After what might have been a ten-minute walk, a strange sight presented itself. Three wooden carriages sat in a line along the road, each pulled by two horses. They appeared laden with supplies.

“Where did you get these?”

“From that place I was telling you about,” said Teddy. “The country park. They must have done carriage rides for the kiddies or something. Seeing as how we haven’t been able to get any cars running, horses are the new Lamborghinis.”

“I didn’t mean the horses. I meant all the supplies.”

“Oh. Well, like I said, we take what we find. Lot of old farmhouses around here, and there’s a village nearby. We go out most days looking for stuff.”

“Looking for people to rob, you mean?”

“Sometimes. I wasn’t lying when I said I got robbed in the beginning. That’s when I decided it’s better to be the one doing the robbing.”

Aaron sighed. He wasn’t interested in hearing excuses, so he changed the subject. “Do you know how to ride the horses?”

Teddy shrugged using just one shoulder. Somehow, despite the situation, he still had a likeable way about him. “There’s a woman in our group who rides well. She’s been teaching the rest of us.”

“This group of yours, are they good people?”

“They’re just people. No different from before the world ended. If you’re lucky, you might get to meet everyone.”

Aaron climbed into the back of one of the wagons. “And if I’m unlucky?”

Teddy pulled a face. “Shit, man, you really need me to answer that question for you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Look, just sit tight and behave, okay? You folks were kind to me, so I’ll put a good word in with the doc. Might not seem like it now, but you and me can be mates.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, but he was undecided whether he wanted to kill this cocky young man or not. Cameron, however, had already decided. He dumped down onto the bench beside Aaron, spitting and growling as he wrestled with the cable ties behind his back. “They’re feckin’ dead, the lot of ’em. They ain’t getting away with what they done to Boon. Fuck, she didn’t deserve to go out like that.”

Aaron sighed. Boon’s loss hadn’t even settled on him yet, but the thought of repaying her death with more death didn’t put him at ease. More and more, it felt like every life was precious. Finally, they had a way to strike back at the enemy, but if there was no one left to save, it would all be for nothing.

He stared off into the darkness, wondering what was out there in the unseen landscape ahead. How many people? How many monsters?

And Helper. He’s out there.

Is he okay?

Chapter Nine

They had spent the last few hours inside some kind of animal enclosure. There was no way of telling what species might once have lived inside the habitat, but a cement wall and an eight-foot chain-link fence encircled the whole area, suggesting it could have been something dangerous. The wooden climbing platform in the centre of the grassy mound made Aaron think of a wildcat or weasel.

Out of all of them, the only one who managed to get a little extra sleep was Cameron, but as soon as the sun came up, he rose to his feet. He now stood, staring through the fence. Aaron climbed up onto the platform and sat cross-legged on top of it.

The country park was small, with only a single building that was surrounded by four or five paddocks. An overgrown dirt track formed a perimeter that must have once been used for the horse and carriage rides. In an adjacent field was a pedal go-cart track. That was all.

“What time is it?” asked Helen, rubbing her eyes.

Fiona checked her watch. “Just past seven.” She arched her back and stretched with a groan. Then she slumped up against the fence beside Cameron. “What do you think happened to the animals? The paddocks are all empty.”

“What d’ye reckon happened to ’em? There’s a reason that lad looked so well fed.”

She grimaced. “They ate the animals? That’s… sad.”

Cameron shook his head at her, bemused. “Ye gobbled rabbit last night. Cute and fluffy it were.”

“I know, but eating the animals at a petting zoo… that’s just wrong. Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know.” She put her hand over her face and groaned. “My head is throbbing.”

“The animals are the least of our concerns right now,” said Aaron. He tried to make out people inside the building, but the windows were tinted. A hundred people could be hiding for all he knew.

Cameron nodded. “We need to turn the tables on these gobshites and make ’em pay for what they did.”

Helen leant back against one of the wooden platform’s supports. “I agree. Boon and her men were family. They deserve retribution.”

“Revenge,” said Cameron, his eyes narrowing.

“Revenge doesn’t bring anyone back,” said Aaron.

“We should try to escape,” said Fiona. “We have more important things to think about.”

Cameron snorted. “And do what? Skip our way into Choirikell with no weapons?”

Fiona rolled her eyes and swore under her breath. She rubbed at her tattooed arms, sleeves rolled up despite the morning chill. “It’s not like guns are all that helpful against the greens. Our best shot was having Helper with us, but now he’s either dead or unlikely to ever trust us again.”

“He’s alive,” said Aaron. “They hurt him, but I know he’s alive. We need to find him.”

“We can’t even make it out of this cage,” said Helen.

“We can climb out,” said Cameron, gripping the fence and shaking it.

“There’s barbed wire at the top,” said Fiona, pointing, “and my days of self-harm are long behind me.”

Aaron looked over toward the main building again. He had a feeling people were watching them. “We’ll never escape without being caught. There were a dozen people on the road last night. I assume there’s even more inside that building. Our best way of getting out of here is by talking our way out. We’ve met Dr Gerard before. He wasn’t so bad.”

“He’s right,” said Fiona. “He wasn’t insane or anything.”

“The sod abandoned his patients,” said Cameron, “in case you’ve forgotten. And three months is a long time nowadays. We lost four good soldiers last night for nae reason – Boon the best of ’em – so as soon as I get a chance, I’m breaking necks.”

Aaron chuckled.

“What’s so funny, lad?”

“You’re back.”

“Aye, I’m back. Can’t a fella have an off-day? Culdrake was my home, and so was Choirikell. I’m sick of losing people and places I care aboot, so I’m nae gunna let a bunch of fuckwits steal from us and get away with it.”

Helen sniffed and wiped at her nose. “We’ve been fighting for our lives ever since we met. The time for talking things through is still a long way off.”

Fiona cleared her throat and seemed to accept what she was hearing. “I suppose you’re right. The only people I trust are in this cage. If one of us fights, we all fight. For Boon, if nothing else.”

Cameron raised a bushy eyebrow at Aaron on the platform. “Are we all in agreement, then? We make these bastards pay?”

Aaron sighed. “If a fight goes down, of course I’ve got your back, but that doesn’t mean we can’t play things smart and wait for the right moment. I want revenge for Boon too, but not if it means losing anyone else. I brought us all here. Boon and the others are dead because of me.”

“Bullshit,” said Cameron. “The people to blame were those holding the guns.”

“Maybe, but can we just play things out? We’re too badly outnumbered to go straight for the kill.”

Cameron rattled the fence in frustration and turned around. “Every fibre in my body disagrees, Little English, but okay. We’ll wait for the moment to strike, but when it finally comes, I want my payback.”

“We all do,” said Helen.

Movement caught Aaron’s attention. “Heads-up, someone’s coming.” He hopped down off the wooden platform and joined everyone by the fence. There was a gate at one end of the habitat, a small chain-link enclosure with two padlocked doors.

Dr Gerard and six men exited the main building. Teddy was one of them, walking with his head lowered. It was difficult to know whether the teenager had truly intended on what had happened last night, but he was responsible either way. He had lied and tricked them, and had intended to rob them.

Cameron’s fists clenched.

Aaron stood next to him. “We’re going to play it smart, yeah?”

“Aye, Little English. Fer now.”

Gerard approached the enclosure. He appeared tired, like he’d had even less sleep than them, but he was healthy and fit otherwise. “I’ve given it some consideration,” he said, walking slightly ahead of his men and reaching the enclosure first, “and I do remember you all. Survivors of Choirikell, right? You’ve done well to make it so long on your own.”

Cameron huffed. “No thanks to yoo, ye donkey. Ye went AWOL on yer own patients.”

The blow landed, because the doctor flinched. “Most were beyond saving, and my mind was on my family. I had hoped to reach them, but… things didn’t turn out as planned. The past is the past, however, and I do not wish to dwell there.”

“We need our weapons back,” said Aaron. “We’re heading back to Choirikell.”

“Why on earth would you do that? The whole place is infected. Part of the reason I abandoned the place was because I read the writing on the wall.”

“We torched the village to the ground,” said Fiona, “and now we’re going back to destroy the corkscrews that landed there.”

“Why? What good will that do?”

“We’re not sure,” said Aaron, “but we think it will kill the fungus in Choirikell.”

Gerard folded his arms and raised a pointed chin. There was a glint of madness about him, but also a remnant of an educated and civilised man. “Who told you that? Military Intelligence?”

“An alien,” said Aaron without embarrassment. “The one you shot last night, along with four innocent soldiers. Sergeant Boon served under you directly in Choirikell, and you killed her without a second thought.”

“That was unfortunate, but death, I’m afraid, is no longer tragic; it is inevitable. This alien, tell me about it.”

“Why should we?” Aaron folded his arms, matching the older man’s posture.

“Because I’ll have you all shot,” said Dr Gerard plainly. He motioned to his men, who all raised their weapons slightly. “It’s no skin off my nose.”

Helen chuckled, like she found the whole situation absurd. “Yer supposed to help people as a doctor and protect people as a soldier, but yer shite at both. Did ye forget what ye signed up for, or what?”

Gerard returned her smile with no sign of offence. “I’ve forgotten many things, miss, and for good reason: this is the end of the world. We have been invaded, overrun, and routed. Hell is rolling out the red carpet for us all, but I’ll do whatever I can to keep my feet from the flames for as long as possible. If you can make yourselves useful, you are welcome to join us here, but I’m afraid the alternative is both cruel and unusual.”

“You’ll kill us,” said Fiona flatly.

“In some fashion or other, yes. Try not to let it bother you too much. Like I said, it’s inevitable.”

Aaron shook his head, confused. “If we’re all dead anyway, what are you even doing here? Why not give up?”

“Because survival is a loud mistress. If eking out a modest existence here for a while is possible, then my nature demands that I do so. There’s food, shelter, and, so far, no sign of fungus.”

“Let us go,” said Aaron, “and you can have more than that. We’re going to hit back at our enemy. We can turn the tide. Don’t you want to do more than survive?”

The men standing with Dr Gerard exchanged glances. Aaron was no mind reader, but he detected a twinge of excitement, or…

Hope. They want what I’m saying to be true.

Gerard has convinced them there’s nothing better than what they have right now.

“Don’t be naïve,” Gerard admonished. “Even if you’re correct, and destroying the corkscrews somehow damages our enemy, how do you hope to succeed? The corkscrews are surrounded by fungus as thick as your arms and guarded by foul monsters. Even if you destroy one, how would you destroy them all? There are over three thousand of them.”

Fiona gasped. “Three thousand?”

Gerard shrugged. “That was the number we estimated globally. An insurmountable figure, wouldn’t you say?”

“One less is better than none less,” said Cameron. “All victories have to start somewhere, so let us oot this cage before things go sideways fer the lot o’ ye.”

“If that’s a threat, I should remind you that you have no weapons or bargaining chips of any kind.” He motioned towards his men, who all held various firearms – some military, others not. “When I left Choirikell, several came with me, taking as many supplies as they could carry and slaughtering the animals here to supplement what we had. Ever tasted alpaca meat? It makes a wonderful stew.”

Cameron rattled the fence and growled. “What’s ye point, fella?”

“My point is that I’m well fed and intend to keep it that way, and that anyone who gets in my way will end up the way of Rudy the alpaca who used to live in that empty paddock right over there.”

“Ye’ve lost it,” said Helen, a smile still on her face. “Dinnae get me wrong, most of us have lost a wee nut, but ye’ve really lost the cheese off yer cracker, have ye not?”

“I’m not the one in the cage with a head full of nonsense about saving the world.”

Teddy cleared his throat. “Um, boss. Last night they said there were still people in Edinburgh. That true? You told us the city was overrun.”

Gerard glared at Teddy, but when it failed to shrink the lad, he gave an apathetic shrug. “I assumed it to be the case based on what I know. If the city hasn’t fallen yet, it will soon enough. You forget that I’ve seen, first-hand, the army’s dismal attempts at controlling the fungus. Mankind has failed, and while it pains me to say so, we have lost the war. The world is no longer ours.”

“Nae one is a failure until they quit,” said Cameron. “Dust yerself off and stand up like a man. There’s nae excuses for giving up. Especially when people are relying on ye.”

“There is a difference between cessation and surrender, sir. I have merely chosen not to fight an unwinnable fight.”

“Let us oot of ’ere, give us back our guns, and we might let ye live. Ye can hide here, growing carrots and sucking yer thumbs, while the real warriors take care of business, ye wet feckin– ”

Dr Gerard snatched a pistol from his belt and pulled the trigger. The shot struck the chain-link fence and ricocheted. Everyone ducked, inside and outside the habitat, except for Gerard, who didn’t even flinch. “My patience has run out,” he raged. He took a deep breath and held it, as if the outburst had been involuntary and he now wished to contain it. Exhaling slowly, he said, “I’ll tell you people what I’ll do. I can’t feed you all indefinitely, so I will accept two of you. Choose between the four of you who will die and who will join my camp. I’ll give you until noon to decide. Oh, and there’s no escape, so don’t waste your time.” He glanced at Fiona and Helen. “Better hope chivalry still exists, yes?”

“Feck off,” said Helen.

Gerard turned and walked away with his people. Halfway to the main building, Teddy broke away from the group and came back to the habitat. He was armed with a dull black shotgun that had a hardwood stock. “Got this from a dodgy geezer at a pub in Glasgow,” he said, holding the weapon up to show them. “Told me it was used to kill British squaddies in Northern Ireland. I thought it was cool at the time.”

“You don’t think so now?” asked Fiona, wrapping her fingers in the chain-link fence and staring out at him.

He lowered the shotgun and shrugged. “Suppose I understand the life of a soldier a little better these days. It’s not a gig anyone would choose if they knew the truth.”

“You did this to us, Teddy.” Aaron moved beside Fiona. He made sure to look Teddy right in the eye. “You screwed us over and killed our friends.”

“Hey, I’m sorry it went down like this, but the doc likes to shoot first and ask questions later. It might not be right, but it’s kept us all alive out here.”

Fiona looked past him, towards the main building. “How many of you are there?”

Teddy appeared unsure as to whether or not to answer, but he must have realised they were powerless to pose a threat, because he eventually shrugged. “Seventeen. Highest was twenty-six, but this weird Hungarian guy named Otto did a runner a couple of weeks ago. A few others left with him.”

“Why?” asked Helen. “If this place is so grand, why did they run?”

“I don’t fucking know, do I.”

“I think you do,” said Aaron. There was an unease about Teddy, a sense of shame.

“They wanted out, that’s all. It gets a little bad here sometimes, you know? Like we’re all just waiting around with nothing to do. There’s no place to run, but for some reason that seems to make people want to run even more.”

“Stir crazy,” said Fiona. “I used to feel it when I was in prison. I’d sit inside my cell and have this massive urge to climb the walls. Hard thing to overcome.”

Aaron nodded. “I get it, too. Running is better than waiting, and fighting is better still. That’s why we’re here. If we can make it to Choirikell, we can give everyone a chance to fight back.”

“Everyone is still alive in Edinburgh,” said Fiona. “You didn’t know, but now you do and that means everything has changed. It’s not over. Not yet.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “The boss man lied to ye. Probably didn’t want anyone thinking there was a better place to be.”

Teddy shook his head. “You got the doc all wrong, man. When Gerard found me, I was skin and bones, sleeping in a block of toilets at the park. He found all of us like that, desperate. He taught us how to fight and how to survive. Only a few of us here were ever soldiers. Without Gerard we would all be dead.”

“And now you’re just waiting to die instead,” said Aaron. “Don’t you want to try for something better? What if we can win this fight? What if we can get our planet back?”

“Get real, man. You reckon letting you out of this cage will make a difference? You can’t save the world.”

“You’re right,” said Aaron, “but it’ll allow us to make a start. We’re not the only people left, Teddy. There’re hundreds of people south of here, making their way across the English border as we speak. You don’t have to wait here and die. You can fight for a future.”

Teddy licked at his lips. He glanced back at the main building where Gerard had disappeared with the other men. He stood there for a while, then wandered off without a word. He stopped about twenty metres away to sit down on a metal bench. He placed his shotgun against his lap.

“Guess he’s done talking,” said Helen. “He’s a handsome lad. Shame he’s one of the bad guys because I wouldn’t mind a ride.”

“He’s not a bad guy,” said Fiona. “He’s just trying to survive, and he’s done that by listening to Gerard. Why would he trust us when he doesn’t know us? He hasn’t seen what we’ve seen.”

“He saw Helper,” said Aaron. “That should have been enough to show him that there’s more happening than he realises.”

Cameron marched alongside the fence, rattling it and testing for weaknesses. “Who gives a feck? He’ll be the first one I’ll kill when I get oot of here. He could have warned us last night – told us to lie low – but instead he ate our rabbit and waited for us to fall asleep. Lad’s a traitor and I want revenge. Revenge!”

“Calm down.” Aaron folded his arms and reflected for a moment. He stared over at Teddy, who had obviously been given guard duty. “I think he was listening to us. He’s over there, digesting what we said.”

Helen shook her head. “No, he’s guarding us until Gerard comes back and shoots two of us. We’re supposed to be making a choice, remember?”

“We ain’t doing that,” said Cameron. “No way are we picking who dies.”

“I’ll volunteer,” said Helen. “Hell, it’s about time.”

Aaron hissed. “We won’t let them kill us, Helen. You promised to get me home to my mam, remember? I still plan to collect on that.”

“I’m only saying, if push comes to shove, my hand will be in the air.”

Cameron nodded. “Mine too.” He looked at Fiona. “Look after Little English for me if the worst happens.”

Fiona didn’t seem to know what to say, so she just nodded.

“None of us is dying here,” said Aaron. “We’ve been through too much to be executed in a cage like animals.”

“Still think we can talk things through?” asked Cameron. He shook his head to show his opinion of the notion.

“No. We’ll try it your way.”

“Good lad.” Cameron rubbed his hands together. “Let’s put our heads together, eh? We’ve been in worse scrapes.”

Everyone took a seat inside the enclosure. Cameron grabbed a thick branch that twisted out of the ground and pulled it loose. He began to sharpen it against a small outcropping of stone. They sat down on the grass and discussed strategy for the next few hours – perhaps a dozen different plans in total, but nothing seemed wise or practical. They were trapped, unarmed, and outnumbered. It was a riddle without an answer, and every minute that passed made it more and more likely that two of them were going to die.

Another hour passed.

“Hey,” said Aaron, unable to think any more, and now distracted by something outside of the cage. “There’s Ranger.”

The German shepherd was sniffing around a weedy flower bed planted in front of a painted sign with meerkats on. He cocked a leg and took a piss.

Aaron clapped his hands and knelt by the fence. “Hey, Ranger. Here, boy!”

The dog perked up its ears and wagged its tail. After spotting where Aaron was calling from, it sprinted over to the enclosure and leapt up against the fence. Aaron forced his fingers through the links and allowed the dog to lick him. “There’s a good boy.”

“Hey!” Teddy hopped up off the bench and hurried towards the enclosure. “Step back.”

Aaron ignored Teddy’s command. He was only saying hello to the dog. He didn’t intend to hurt it. “Chill out. I’m only giving him a fuss.”

“Leave Ranger alone.”

Cameron raced up to the fence and thrust half his hand through the links. He managed to hook Ranger’s collar with a finger and the dog yelped, trying to pull away. Keeping a hold on the collar, he thrust a sharpened stick through the fence with his other hand. “I’m gunna kill yer feckin’ dog, Teddy boy. Least I can do.”

“No, please!” Teddy skidded to a stop a few feet from the fence. He put his hands up, the shotgun in his left pointed harmlessly at the sky. “Don’t hurt her.”

Cameron frowned. “Her?” He tilted his head and looked at the dog’s underbelly. “Oh, aye. Well, she’s tomorrow’s dinner now, pal.”

“No. Stop! I’ll help you.”

Cameron pulled on the dog’s collar, his fingers turning white. He turned his head. “How?”

Teddy lowered his hands. “Look, I’ve been sitting over there, wondering what to do. I meant it when I said I didn’t intend for anyone to die last night, and it wasn’t my call to start shooting. I was only going to rob you; the same shit I pull all the time. Me and Ranger gain a group’s trust, and in the night I swipe their gear and meet back up with the others. It don’t usually come to killing, but lately…”

“Gerard’s getting worse,” said Fiona.

Teddy swallowed and gave a tiny nod. “The more people we rob, and the longer we survive here, the more the doc believes it’s us against the world. He’s stopped caring about other people, but it’s me that…” He blinked slowly and cleared his throat. “I’m the one who has to go up to these strangers and make friends with them. Most of them are good people, just trying to stay alive. They feed Ranger, tell me stories, and then I stab them in the back. I wasn’t always like this.”

“There’s a better way,” said Aaron. “Perhaps Gerard is right, and we’re all going to die, no matter what, but that doesn’t mean our actions are worthless. Right and wrong still exist.”

Teddy nodded. “My friends are here. If I left, I would be alone again. I can’t survive like that. Please, let Ranger go and I’ll try to help you.”

“Help us first,” said Helen. “Prove you’re not a piece of shit.”

“Aye,” said Cameron, yanking on Ranger’s collar and making her yelp.

“How do I do that?” Teddy begged. “I’ve been over there, racking my brains. I don’t even have the keys to the gate, and even if you escape, Gerard will just track you down with the horses and kill you.”

“Then say goodbye to yer pet.”

Teddy lowered his shotgun and aimed it through the fence. “Don’t do it. I’ll shoot you in the face, I swear. She’s a good dog, man. Just let her go.”

Aaron slumped against the fence. “Let Ranger go, Cam. Out of all the people here, she’s probably the only one who’s truly innocent.”

“Feck it.” Cameron let Ranger go, revealing that he never would have hurt her. The dog hurried over to Teddy with her tail between her legs.

Teddy knelt and stroked the animal behind the ears. “It’s okay, girl. It’s okay.”

“Did you mean it?” asked Aaron, moving to the section of fence beside Teddy. “Were you really thinking how to help us?”

“Yeah,” said Teddy. “I don’t see why anyone needs to get hurt.”

“Okay, so how long do we have until Gerard comes back?”

“An hour, maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Will he go through with his threat?”

Teddy averted his gaze and nodded. “He’s pulled this shit before. It’s what caused Otto and the others to leave.”

Aaron sighed. “Then we have an hour to figure out a plan. And we need your help.”

Teddy scratched Ranger’s belly while she rolled on the floor. With a worried expression, he nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

Aaron was sitting on top of the wooden climbing platform when Dr Gerard emerged from the main building. Teddy had returned to the metal bench twenty metres away, ostensibly on guard duty. His shotgun lay across his lap and Ranger slept beneath his feet. Both man and dog stood to attention when they realised they had company.

Once again, Gerard had a small group of men with him, the same ones as before. Aaron wondered what the others inside the building were like. Did they stay inside constantly? Were they also armed? If the latter were true, escape would be even more difficult.

Where were the women?

Gerard approached the enclosure, holding his pistol by his side. “So what will it be?” He sounded impatient. “Who has the honour of joining our little family?”

“Shove yer silly games up yer arse,” said Cameron, rattling the fence. “We ain’t choosing.”

“If you let us go, and we succeed,” said Aaron, “then the fungus will disappear from Scotland. We’ll be able to regroup with the army in Edinburgh and finally fight back to reclaim the country.” He looked not at Gerard, but at the men standing beside him. They were young, possibly career soldiers, but certainly not veterans. Their doubt was obvious. Doubt about what Gerard was planning to do.

“I wish I had your faith,” said Gerard, “but I am burdened with the truth, and the truth is that you are nothing but competition: competition for resources, competition for survival. Even if I let you go, you would try to visit revenge upon me for last night’s losses.”

“We won’t,” said Fiona. “We just want to leave here.”

“With our weapons,” said Aaron, “so we can make it to Choirikell and do what needs to be done.”

“Out of the question. You either decide among yourselves who lives, or I shall have you all shot.”

Cameron sneered. “These boys only follow yer orders because ye’ve got ’em scared. Only a weak man leads through fear.”

“Nonetheless, I am in charge here. So make a choice or I’ll do it for you.”

“Kill me,” said Helen, and she pressed herself against the fence. “But you best get close enough to do it properly. Would hate for a ricochet to blow yer head off or only take half of mine.”

“Very well, ma’am.” He cocked his pistol and sniffed. “Okay, we’re halfway there. Good. Any other takers?”

Aaron nodded. “I’ll go second.”

“Like hell, ye will,” said Cameron. “Over my dead body.”

“That is what’s on the table,” said Gerard, “and I agree it would be cruel to kill the youngest of you, so perhaps you should volunteer yourself.”

Cameron puffed up his chest. “Aye, but ye best take care of Aaron and Fiona like ye said. No funny business.”

“You have my word. They shall be invited into the group and looked after. It’s the best anyone can hope for.”

Helen was still pressed up against the fence. “Get it over with then, ye wankstain.”

“My pleasure.” Gerard stepped up to the fence and poked his pistol through one of the links, pressing the muzzle right up against Helen’s heart.

“Give me a second,” said Helen, suddenly nervous. “Last words, eh?”

Gerard grunted irritably. “Fine. You have three seconds to say something you believe to be poignant.”

Helen closed her eyes. “In this, my final hour, I humbly ask that… Cameron cuts out yer intestines and feeds ’em to ye.”

Gerard recoiled. “What?”

“Now!” Cameron roared, and Helen threw herself aside as he grabbed the sharpened branch hidden in the grass at his feet. Striking like a viper, he thrust it through the fence with both hands.

Gerard’s pistol discharged.

Helen hit the ground.

Cameron roared.

Gerard gasped as the air escaped him. His head lowered, eyes falling upon the branch now sticking out of his guts. He tried to say something, but only blood escaped his lips.

“That went in easy,” said Cameron, sounding impressed.

Ranger leapt back and forth, barking and whining, disturbed by the gunshot.

Gerard stumbled backwards.

His men raised their weapons and pointed at the enclosure.

Teddy leapt into the firing line. He held his shotgun non-threateningly over his head and dodged back and forth. “Don’t shoot,” he begged. “We don’t have to do this.”

“They stabbed the doc,” one man growled, and he grabbed Gerard to keep him from falling. “They attacked first.”

“Because we was gonna shoot them, yo. When we started this, we were just muscling people out for supplies. Now we’re locking people up and executing them. I didn’t sign up for this, man. Did you? Seriously?”

“Get out the way, Teddy.”

“K-Kill… them.” Gerard staggered back towards the enclosure, still alive despite the stick pressed into his insides. He lifted his pistol shakily towards the fence, but Teddy lunged and grabbed him, shoving his shotgun into his back and using him as a shield.

“No more killing,” Teddy protested. “This ain’t the way.”

“We were telling the truth,” said Aaron, trying to look the armed men in the eye. “We’re heading north to try to kill the fungus. Killing us will only hurt yourselves.”

Gerard spat blood. “Shoot… them.”

Someone fired a shot at the fence. The bullet hit the steel and bounced skyward. Everyone inside the habitat hit the ground.

Ranger howled.

“Stop!” Teddy yelled, and he fired his shotgun over Gerard’s shoulder into the sky. Gerard yelped, blood ejecting from his mouth. Startled by the shot, someone shot back at Teddy, but the reckless bullet struck Gerard in the chest and ended his life. The deadweight of the old man’s body forced Teddy to the ground.

Violence exploded. The six armed men started throwing punches, or lashing out with the butts of their weapons. They were clearly split over what to do.

Someone fired another shot. Someone else hit the ground dead.

“Feck it,” said Cameron, lying on the grass inside the enclosure. “If they all kill each other, we’re gunna end up stuck in here.”

“It was a bad plan,” said Aaron. “Teddy told you he wouldn’t be able to talk everyone down.”

“It were the only plan going. Keep yer heid doon.”

Ranger started barking ferociously and risked being shot.

Teddy crept along the outside of the fence and made it over to the gate. He had a key in his hands that he must have taken from Gerard’s body. “I told you this was a shite plan,” he said, fumbling with the first padlock. “Fuck, man.”

“Just let us oot of here,” said Cameron.

Teddy got the first gate open and then the second. Cameron leapt up off the ground and barged past him. Aaron and the women went right after him.

“This way,” said Teddy, and he pointed towards the track that ran around the edge of the park.

“We need our weapons,” said Cameron.

“Take this,” said Teddy, handing over his shotgun. “I can get us more.”

Cameron took the weapon and thanked him. Then he turned it around and pulled the trigger, blasting Teddy right in the chest. The force took the teenager off his feet and dropped him on his back. He wheezed and moaned on the ground, wide eyes staring vacantly at the sky.

“What the fuck did you do?” Aaron demanded breathlessly. “Why?

“Revenge,” said Cameron.

Fiona rushed over to Teddy and lifted his shirt. “You utter twat, Cameron. He helped us.”

“He got Boon killed.”

Aaron sighed. “Every person we kill is one less to fight our enemy. We don’t have the luxury of grudges any more.”

“Wait,” said Fiona. “I think… I think he might be okay. It doesn’t look that bad.”

Teddy was gasping for breath. Blood soaked his chest, but the wounds appeared shallow. A cluster of black divots dotted his ribcage, but his insides weren’t on display. It was like someone had hacked away at him with a blunt knife.

Cameron frowned. Reaching down, he picked up the spent shotgun shell. It was crumpled and scorched, and when he tilted it, small black beads spilled out. “Soddin’ thing misfired.” He tossed the old shotgun onto the concrete and the wooden stock split right along the centre.

“Help me get him up,” said Helen. “We need to help him.”

“T-Take me with you,” Teddy murmured. “I want to… help.”

Aaron looked at Cameron, a mixture of pleading and scorn. Cameron fought with himself but eventually turned the air blue and made a decision. “Feck sake. Ye can’t even kill a man these days without getting it in the neck.” He grabbed Teddy and scooped him up, tossing him over one of his broad shoulders. “We still need weapons.”

“I-In the wagons,” said Teddy, groaning. “There are guns in… the wagons.”

Helen got moving. “Let’s go.”

They raced away from the brawling and towards the rear of the enclosure that had been their former cell. As soon as they rounded the corner, they spotted the wagons. Four in total, but without horses. The animals grazed in a nearby paddock.

Teddy was still gasping for breath, but he asked Cameron to put him down so he could walk. Aaron helped the lad stand and Cam went up to the first wagon. He opened a crate set behind the seats, and whooped with joy and pulled out his SA80. Next, he reached in and grabbed a pair of handguns that Aaron recognised as belonging to Fiona and Helen. Everyone armed up.

Aaron got his .22 back. It felt like regaining a lost limb.

Someone came around the corner and shouted, “Hey! Put those down.”

“They’re ours,” said Cameron. “And mine beats yours.”

The man aimed a hunting rifle. If he missed his shot, Cameron would cut through him with a burst of 5.56mm fury. Fortunately, the man was smart enough to realise, and he lowered his weapon. “Is it really true? You know a way to fight the fungus? It… it took my entire family.”

“We think so,” said Cameron. “We want to save lives, not end them like Gerard. Will ye let us walk away from this peacefully, pal?”

The man nodded. “The doc is dead. I don’t even know what any of us will do now.”

“Head to Edinburgh,” said Aaron. “There are people there. We only need one of these carts. You can use the others to reach the city in a few days.”

The man nodded. He walked away with his rifle over his shoulder, giving no indication of whether or not he intended to follow Aaron’s advice. Hopefully, he would, because every life counted.

“They’re going to panic,” said Teddy. “The doc kept everyone calm, kept them in line. Without him, they’re gonna go to pieces.”

“If we do what we intend to do,” said Aaron, “then they’ll be okay.”

“I hope so. We need to get the hor– ” Teddy staggered, nearly slipping out of Aaron’s grip.

“Whoa,” said Helen, moving to help. “Let’s get you onto the cart.”

“S-Somebody get Ranger.”

“We dinnae have time,” said Cameron.

“Please.”

“All right,” said Fiona. “I’ll call him.”

They bundled Teddy onto the carriage’s rear bench. Ranger soon appeared and leapt up beside his adopted owner.

Cameron sat up front and took the reins. “Anyone know a bloody thing aboot horses?”

“I do,” said Fiona, and when everyone frowned at her, she shrugged. “I used to have a friend who owned a pony. She let me ride it.”

“How long ago was that?” asked Helen.

“About fifteen years ago.”

“Grand,” said Cameron. “This is gunna be a fun road trip.”

Fiona rolled her eyes and hurried into the paddock. She didn’t seem to know exactly what she was doing, but Teddy was able to guide her through the saddles and equipment. Twelve minutes later, they were all aboard the cart and ready to leave. Cameron took the reins on the left, Fiona those on the right.

“Walk,” said Fiona, and surprisingly, the horses began to move.

The cart trundled over rocks and divots, rocking to and fro as it picked up speed. Someone took a shot in the distance, causing everyone to duck for cover, but then they were racing along a dirt road towards the country park’s exit. They had escaped. Somehow, they had made it out of an impossible situation. Aaron decided anything was possible so long as they stuck together.

Maybe if everyone had done that at the start, we would have had a better chance.

When they reached a tarmacked road, everyone relaxed. Teddy wheezed less and closed his eyes to rest. Aaron put his face up against the breeze and found himself grateful to be alive. The air had a metallic taste, but the sensation of it filling his lungs was energising. He had barely slept, but he felt able to run a marathon.

“Ally. Friend.”

Aaron threw his head forward. “Wait? Did anyone hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Helen.

“I’m not sure. Just hold it. Cameron, stop.”

“Bad idea,” said Teddy. “Gerard’s soldiers will probably be coming after us. Those who give a shit he’s dead at least.”

“Just stop, Cam!”

“All right, all right. Stop this thing, Fi.”

“Whoa. Whoa,” said Fiona, and the horses gradually came to a halt.

Aaron tilted his head and tried to listen.

“Ally. Helper.”

Helen frowned. “Is that…?”

“I can’t believe it,” said Aaron with a grin. He stood up on the boards and looked around. At first, he saw only overgrown fields and the winding road. Then, he noticed a splash of darkness in the sunlight’s soft glow.

“What is that?” asked Fiona, seeing it too. She put a hand over her brow and squinted.

“It’s Helper,” said Aaron. “He’s calling after us.”

“Friend. Ally. Aaron.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Cameron. “Plucky little fella.”

Helper bounded after them on three stumpy legs.

Aaron grinned from ear to ear.

Chapter Ten

Thanks to the horses, reaching Choirikell took only two and a half days. Upon escaping the country park, they had ridden for approximately three hours before coming upon an old stone quarry. The pit had been deserted, and the offices made a good place to take shelter.

The two days that followed were far tougher.

The weather had taken a worse turn and the constant drizzle of the last few weeks had turned into a heavy downpour. With only the wagon’s inventory to make use of, they were left exposed, with no blankets or tarps with which to make a canopy. At night, they slept like sardines beneath the wagon, warmed by whatever heat they could create. To make matters worse, there were no villages nearby, so scavenging for supplies wasn’t an option. Collecting rainwater to drink in Scotland was easy, but no one had eaten since leaving Gerard’s camp. Every mile, they spoke less and less. They were like zombies. Even Ranger seemed to have lost the spring in her step.

“Blanket,” said Helper as the horses began ascending a steep slope. While the animals had been able to feed on grass every evening, they were weary and tired, making slow progress. The road ahead was overgrown with weeds and covered in potholes, but there was no sign of fungus at least.

Aaron rubbed at his eyes, realising he had been half-asleep. It was only the middle of the day, but the wagon’s trundling had a hypnotic effect. “What is it, Helper?”

“Blanket. Enemy.”

“That nae sounds good,” said Cameron, and he pulled on the reins to bring the horses to a halt. Teddy was sitting up front with him, now recovered from his trauma – the pockmarks in his chest scabbed over – and spoke reassurances to the exhausted animals.

The horses came to a stop halfway up the hill. Teddy yanked a lever on his side and engaged the brake. Ranger hopped off and started wagging his tail.

Cameron turned and looked at Helper. There was no room on the wagon for the alien and, while Helper was agile and quick, his body was ill-shaped to sit on a bench made for humans. He spent the journey jogging beside the horses, stamina apparently endless.

Helper lifted his arms, and the fan-like appendages pulsated. He had done this many times, almost always in the presence of an infected animal. Ranger seemed to sense something too, a low growl rumbling in her throat as she lay on Helen’s lap.

“I’ll check it out,” said Aaron, and he hopped off the wagon.

“I’ll come too,” said Fiona, slipping out behind him.

Cameron placed an elbow on the back of the bench and nodded down at Aaron. “Be careful.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

Aaron plodded up the hill with Fiona beside him. She placed a hand on his back and said, “I’m proud of you.”

“Huh? For what?”

She tutted, as if the reason was obvious. “A week ago, you were still a kid, throwing tantrums and blaming the world for everything you didn’t like. Now, it’s like you’ve suddenly grown up. Everyone is here because of you. Adults following your lead.”

Aaron glanced back at the wagon, watching Cameron, Helen, and Teddy chatting amongst themselves. “I guess I never thought about it like that. I’m just trying to do something useful. What other option is there?”

“We could run and hide like Gerard’s people. We could be selfish.”

“They were afraid, without hope that anything could change. It’s hard to blame them.”

She chuckled, then smiled off into the distance.

Aaron frowned. “What is it? What’s funny?”

“You remind me of him.”

“Who?”

“Your brother. He seemed to have a way of always seeing the best in people, and the worst in himself.”

Aaron couldn’t help but smile at that, which was comforting, seeing as he usually wanted to cry whenever someone brought up Ryan. “He was always like that. He was immature, always screwing around and that, but people always gave him chance after chance because he just had this way about him that no one could resist.”

“He made people feel better about themselves. When I first met him, I was frightened of my own shadow, worried that any moment might lead me back to old habits and put me in the gutter. The only thing I could focus on was not giving in to temptation. Never did I think I could be anything more than a recovering addict fresh out of prison, but your brother made me feel like a person again. He fought for me, and asked me to fight for him too. Ryan saw me as more than just a junkie. Eventually, he helped me see myself as more than that as well.”

“Ryan knew he could trust you, Fi.”

“I just wish he was still with us.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here though. You’re probably the coolest person I’ve ever met.”

She smirked. “It’s the tattoos, isn’t it?”

“Mostly.”

They took a few more steps until they reached the crest of the hill. There, they skidded to a halt, gasping.

“This is bad,” said Aaron.

On the other side of the hill lay a field of emerald green. The towering fronds of alien fungus pulsated and swayed. Rain droplets glistened like an infinite scattering of crystals. It was absolutely beautiful.

And it was horrifying.

“I’ve never seen so much,” said Fiona. “It’s like… like…”

“A blanket,” said Aaron, and it was true. It was as if a thick green fleece had been draped over the Earth. Not a single gap, nor any sign of other life.

Beyond the vast green field lay the village of Choirikell, a collection of fuzzy shapes upon a distant hill.

Helper startled Aaron and Fiona, skipping up beside them. “Blanket. Enemy.”

“Yeah, Helper,” said Aaron. “This is our enemy all right. What do we do?”

“Aaron. Fight.”

“How?”

Helper hopped forward on his middle leg and started making his way down the far side of the hill. The fungus started twenty metres away, but as the alien got closer, it appeared to recede. He lifted his vibrating fans higher and they became a whir. Aaron detected a faint sound, like a small bird beating its wings.

“What’s he doing?” asked Fiona.

“What he always does,” said Aaron. “Helping.”

The shimmering blue alien strode forward purposefully, fans continuing to vibrate in the air. As he reached the vast field of fungus, a breach appeared, the green growth shying away and turning black. Helper moved right into the newly formed path, treading on the dead fungus. More and more of it shied away or turned black, the green field parting left and right.

Aaron grinned. “Remind you of anything?”

“Yeah,” said Fiona. “Moses and the Red Sea.”

“Huh? No, I was thinking of a lawn mower. Maybe Helper can go back and forth and make stripes.”

Fiona put her hand on his back again. “Come on, we should tell the others. We made it.”

Agreeing, Aaron headed back down the hill and told the others they had finally reached Choirikell, but that the fungus had taken hold worse than they’d feared. Then Fiona told them about Helper.

“He’s out there right now,” said Aaron, “making a path for us. Let’s get the wagon up and over.”

Cameron was pale, his freckles muddy against his cheeks. Clearly, something was bothering him, so Aaron asked what it was.

“It’s home,” said Cameron, grimacing. “It might not always have been good to me, but it were where I spent my life. I knew the people, the places, the good moments and the bad. If it’s as grim as ye say it is…”

Helen stroked his arm. “We always knew it was gone. We’re here so that other places that people call home get to survive.”

“Aye. I suppose I’ve just been putting it all to one side of me brain, trying not to think about it. Now that we’re here, it reminds me of everything we’ve lost. Can you nae picture Father Miles giving his sermons on a Sunday morning, or Dale opening up the pub every day come noon?”

“The last thing I want to do is picture Dale,” said Helen, “but I get what ye mean. I can see my daffodil balancing on the wall outside the church, pretending he was a tightrope walker. I always thought Choirikell would be a bonny place for him to grow up, ye know? Boring, but nice.”

“He were a good lad,” said Cameron, “and ye were a fine mother.”

Tears filled Helen’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “Let’s put the village to rest, along with all of our friends and neighbours.”

“Aye. Let’s.”

“We ready?” asked Teddy, picking up the reins. “Just say the word.”

Cameron gave him the nod.

With the brake released, the horses got moving again. Aaron and Fiona remained on the road, walking beside the wagon as it crept up the hill. The horses had encountered the fungus several times in the last couple of days, but not in such a vast quantity. Whenever they had come across an infected creature or a patch of fuzz, Helper gave them prior warning. Then, they had taken the creature out with a well-aimed headshot or a slice of Helper’s blades.

It turned out the horses had their limits.

At the top of the hill, they whinnied and raised their front hooves off the road.

“It’s okay, girls,” Teddy soothed. “Calm down.”

“They sense it,” said Aaron. “They know what’s over the hill.”

Teddy continued trying to calm the animals, but it was no use. They threw themselves left and right, causing the wagon to skid and the frame to creak. Something snapped. One of the wheels wobbled, then turned inwards. The wagon slumped diagonally, and the horses dragged it off the road.

Ranger leapt off the wagon, barking and dancing about, bewildered by the startled animals. Teddy, Cameron, and Helen threw themselves off after the dog, landing on the stony grass. Helen swore in pain, as did Teddy, who clutched his wounded chest and turned the air blue. Cameron ducked into a roll and made it back onto his feet.

Both front wheels came free as the axle snapped.

The wagon crashed into the grass, tearing up the mud beneath. The horses broke free, bolting off into the distance with bits of wood and harness flapping behind them.

“Well,” said Fiona, “there goes our ride.”

“Eh,” said Cameron, shrugging his shoulders. “I fancied me a walk, anyway.”

“So, are we really doing this?” asked Aaron. “If we head into the village, we might not make it back out again.”

“At least we’ll be home,” said Helen. “I’ll be with my boy.”

“There’s nae turning back now,” said Cameron. “Culdrake proved there’s nae way to survive this by running and hiding. It’s time to be – what d’ye call it? – proactive.”

Aaron nodded. “Then let’s get going.”

Everyone grabbed their weapons and crested the hill in a line. Cameron and Helen gasped in unison when they saw the emerald field, while Teddy fell utterly silent. After a moment, the lad shook his head. “I’ve never seen it like this before. I didn’t realise it was so bad.”

“This is what we’re up against,” said Aaron, peering down at the unbroken field of green. “This is all that’ll be left of the planet if we don’t stop it.”

Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry, I almost got in your way.”

“It’s all right,” said Cameron. “I shot ye, so we’re even.”

Teddy fingered his chest beneath his bloody, long-sleeved T-shirt. “Good to know.”

“Eh, ye’ll get over it. I got shot in the arse once.”

“Also good to know. I hope it hurt,” Teddy smirked.

“It wasn’t my favourite day, let’s put it that way.”

Helper was now a hundred metres ahead. A swath of fungus lay blackened and dead in a wide strip behind him, but it was still incredibly thick and vibrant beyond that. Was there a limit to how much of the fungus the blue alien could deal with? What if his abilities ran out or needed recharging? Without him, their mission would be impossible.

Thank God he made his way back to us.

Cameron scuffed his boots against the last of the tarmacked road. Beyond, it was completely covered. “Well, ’ere goes nothing.” He stepped forward and started down the hill. Everyone followed him. Ranger stayed close to Teddy, tail tucked between her legs.

When they reached the edge of the fungus field, Aaron felt a shiver along his spine as he expected it to leap up from the sides and smother him. The healthy fungus was four feet high. The blackened pathway Helper had made was six feet wide, which gave them plenty of space to walk safely, but it didn’t make things any less scary.

Helper moved steadily, but they caught up with the alien by jogging. Cameron then did something unexpected and patted the alien on its back, cheering him for his good work. He didn’t seem to think about what he was doing.

Helper stopped and turned around.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have done that,” said Teddy, freezing.

Aaron froze, too, wondering if Helper would interpret the exuberant pat on the back as some kind of attack. The alien seemed to glare at Cameron, but then he spoke. “Friend. Ally. Cameron.”

A smile cracked Cameron’s face. “Aye, pal. We’re friends. Let’s get a pint after all this is through.”

“Blanket. Kill.”

“Aye. That first.”

Everyone got moving again, with Helper clearing a path. The way ahead entered a dip, and a short distance beyond, that dip rose into a hill. Upon that hill sat the village of Choirikell.

Where the dead lay waiting.

Chapter Eleven

Sophie felt nauseous, which made no sense because she hadn’t eaten in days. The apples had rotted surprisingly quickly in their backpacks, which they had shed to be free of the weight. Travelling north was getting harder and harder as the fungus crept in on them from every direction. They could no longer keep to the roads and instead had to walk through farmland or wherever else they could find that was uninfected. Gradually, mile by mile, they were being closed in. Soon, there would be no way ahead at all.

Nancy was in bad shape. Without food, she had weakened substantially and barely spoke a word now. They were two silent machines, tasked with walking until they dropped. Life held no pleasure. The future was a tiny dot of light on an unrelentingly dark backdrop.

“I’m sorry,” said Sophie when they reached somewhere between nowhere and anyplace. “I’m sorry I didn’t plan this better.”

Nancy shrugged tiredly, putting one foot sluggishly in front of the other. “There were no plans to be made. What could we have done differently?”

“I don’t know. We could have found a working car, for starters.”

“We would have had to kill to get one. They’re not just sitting around.”

Sophie thought about Jake, and how she had caved his skull in back at the cottage before stealing the supplies from the children they had abandoned. “We’ve had to kill, anyway, Nancy, and where did it get us? We would have been better off with Jake.” She laughed dryly and reconsidered. “Maybe not.”

“What we did to those children was terrible,” Nancy said, putting a hand against her grubby forehead. “It’s been weighing on my mind for days.”

“We only did to them what they were going to do to us. I don’t like it, Nancy, but I’m certainly not going to lose any sleep over it.”

“You’ve never had children, Sophie. That’s why you don’t feel as badly as you should. They’ve probably starved to death by now. Children.”

“It was three days ago. They’re probably fine. If not, then they’re no different from the millions of other kids who never made it. Guilt is pointless when most of the world is dead. Who does it help?”

“I’m still a human being, Sophie. I can’t help but feel guilty.”

Sophie stopped walking, her jeans soaked up to the knees, and faced her mother-in-law with her hands on her hips. “Are you saying I’m not human? Huh?”

Nancy avoided eye contact for a moment, but then she appeared to steel herself. “You’ve become callous, Sophie. It wasn’t so long ago you were about to bludgeon a poor man to death for trying to feed his daughter. Then, back at the cottage, you… you…”

“I what? Killed a rapist? Fed us? How much longer do I have to take care of you before you actually thank me?”

“Thank you? We’re in this together. I’m not your goddamn sidekick.”

“No, you’re not. You’re deadweight, Nancy. You’re getting slower and slower, and you’ve been eating two-thirds of our food.”

“What food?”

“Exactly. You ate it all, and now you’re complaining about where it came from. I’m starving and I’m exhausted, and… and” – she clutched her matted, blonder hair and pulled – “and I don’t think I can do this any more, Nancy. I’m done. It’s fucking over and I’m done.”

Nancy flinched, clearly shocked by her sudden breakdown. Sophie hadn’t even been aware that she was so close to the edge. Now tears were flooding down her face.

“Oh, honey, come here. Come on.”

Nancy tried to grab her, but she swatted her away. “Don’t! Don’t touch me.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t touch you. But I’m worried about you, Sophie. Before all this started, you were a kind, generous young woman. I want you to still be that when we find Ryan.”

“We’re not going to find Ryan. Come on, Nancy, you realised it before I did. We’re screwed. Our food is gone. Our water is gone. And soon, there’re won’t even be anywhere left to go.”

“We head north, Sophie. Same as always.”

“Shit, we don’t even know which way north is any more. We could be walking in circles.”

“Perhaps. But even if there’s no hope, like you say, I still wouldn’t change a thing. Setting out with you to find my boys was the right thing to do, and I’m grateful we did it. How could we have lived with ourselves if we had just stayed at home, hiding out while the world ends? Just look at what we’ve survived these last few months.”

“A slow starvation surrounded by death and monsters?”

Nancy shook her head and chuckled. “I didn’t say it’s been pleasant, but you’re a warrior, Sophie. You want my thanks, then okay, you have it. I see the sacrifices you’ve made. I see how strong you’ve had to be. And maybe I am weak, but I don’t want you going too far over the line. It’s better to fail at being who we are than becoming something awful to survive.”

“You’re worried about my soul? I think it’s a bit late for that.”

“It’s never too late. I might never see my sons again, but at least I gained a daughter.” She stepped towards Sophie with her arms out. “Please, I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry if I upset you. We started this together, and we’ve got so far; let’s not fall out now. Stay with me until the end.”

Sophie lowered her head and stepped forward, allowing Nancy to hug her. There, they stood for several moments. Sophie didn’t want to admit it, but it felt good. During the last few months, she had desensitised herself to everything around her. Her focus had been only the journey north. Hunger, boredom, fear, and pain: she had pushed them to the back of her mind to keep going, along with love, hope, and compassion.

Nancy’s right. I am losing myself.

“I’m never going to see Ryan again, am I?”

Nancy squeezed her. “Probably not, sweetheart, but I love you for trying so hard to find him. He really was lucky to have found you. There’s no one else I would have rather seen him settle down with.”

“It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“It sounds like you want me to. It’s okay if you need to give up. I won’t blame you. We’ve both done all that we can. If you want to go take a seat up against that oak tree over there, we can rest up and wait for the end together.”

It was tempting. The thought of dying was not entirely unwelcome, which terrified her to her core. To be so calm on the brink of death; did that mean she had nothing left? Had life truly become so unbearable? She looked at Nancy, a woman who had always irritated her a little, and sometimes a lot. Since leaving Manchester, this woman had changed from being Ryan’s mother to becoming hers. She was a physical burden, but emotionally, Sophie couldn’t have made it this far without her. They were in this together, and that meant life wasn’t completely empty. They had each other. “I’m done, Nancy. I just want to rest now. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is. Come on, sweetheart.”

They headed towards the large oak tree that Nancy had indicated. It stood in the middle of a grassy field, although the field didn’t appear to be part of a farm or estate. It was just a large field surrounded by woods. A piece of natural, unspoiled earth. They wouldn’t have long to enjoy it.

They stopped before they reached the tree, because there was something lying at the foot of it. From ten feet away, the two of them gasped at what they saw.

Completely out of the blue, they had discovered another person.

The sleeping middle-aged man looked like a hobo, but these days everybody likely did – anyone who was left, anyway. He had a thick, unwashed beard and straggly blonde hair down past his ears. Filthy clothes and odd shoes. Yet, despite his dishevelled appearance, he was surrounded by food.

“He has meat,” said Nancy. “Look.”

There were several sandwich bags on the ground next to the oak tree, each filled with scraps of cooked pale meat from something the man must have hunted and killed. Just past the oak tree was a small tent with a cooking stove, kettle, and other supplies. Several bottles of water sat in a pile alongside a plastic tub of what appeared to be biscuits.

“Where did he get all this?”

Sophie shrugged, keeping her voice to a whisper. “I don’t know. He obviously had a better plan than we did. Be quiet and let’s grab what we can.”

“What? No, we can’t steal from him.”

“He has more than enough, and he’s probably capable of getting more.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s his food.”

“I know that, but– ”

Nancy stared hard at her. “Please, Sophie, if the end is coming, be that kind, generous girl that Ryan fell in love with. Don’t give yourself away just for one last meal.”

Sophie shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing. They were both starving to death. “He won’t miss a little bit of food.”

“You might be right, but he will still feel robbed and vulnerable. It’s wrong, Sophie. Let’s just wake him up instead. He might share.”

“He might kill us.”

“Not everyone is bad, remember? We can’t control what others do, but we can choose who we want to be.”

Sophie thought things through. It would be so easy to just grab a couple of bags of meat and leave. It was enough food to get them through another couple of days. But the way Nancy was looking at her…

She’s right.

Not everyone is bad.

She had once been suspicious of Mike, but he had proven her wrong. He had been an honest man trying to take care of his stepdaughter. He had looked like a dishevelled hobo too.

Sophie sighed. “Okay, let’s wake him up.”

Nancy smiled and then nodded. “It’s all going to work out, you’ll see. This is a sign that we should keep going.” She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Sir? Excuse me, sir? Wake up. Hello, there. Yoo-hoo?”

Sophie side-eyed her mother-in-law. “Yoo-hoo? Seriously?”

Nancy shrugged, embarrassed.

The man stirred, his eyes flickering behind the lids. His lips moved as though speaking, and he lifted one knee so that he was no longer lying completely flat.

Then his eyes opened and he bolted upright.

Both women gasped in fright.

“It’s okay,” said Nancy, putting out her hands. “We’re friendly.”

The man leapt to his feet. A knife appeared in his hand. He started speaking, but the words weren’t English. His accent sounded Polish, which reminded Sophie of a taxi driver she had once used regularly not so long ago. A nice young man, working all hours of the night and day to send money home to his family. He was probably dead now.

“Easy,” said Sophie, aware that she was unarmed because she no longer carried her golf club. After using it on Jake, it had been a gore-soaked reminder of what people had become. She had tossed it in a stream full of infected green water two days ago. “We’re not looking for a fight.”

The man continued to rage at them, waving his knife around. There was a wound on his neck, scabbed over, but recent enough that it was still red around the edges. His left hand was also injured, coiled up like a tangled spring. He’d clearly been through some stuff.

“Your things,” he said. “You give to me.”

“What things?” asked Sophie. “The only thing we have is our clothes.”

He pointed the knife at Sophie’s middle. “Belt. Give belt.”

“No.”

He thrust the knife at her. “You give!”

“You fuck off.”

He slashed at her face but missed. Sophie dodged back, hands out to protect herself. “Hey, calm the hell down. There’s no need for this.”

He swiped again.

Nancy pleaded with him to stop, but he tried to slash at her, too.

Both women backed off, moving towards the man’s tent.

“Oh my God,” said Nancy, half turned away from her attacker.

Sophie didn’t know what was wrong. She stole a glance over her shoulder to see what Nancy had seen, while attempting to keep one eye on the knife trying to slice at her.

She saw the worst thing imaginable.

A young boy, maybe not even yet a teenager, lay naked on a dark blue tarp. An arm cut off at the elbow. A square patch of flesh missing from his plump stomach. Suddenly, it was clear where this man had got his meat.

Sophie shook her head at the man with the knife. “You’ve been eating him.”

“I not kill,” he said. “My cousin. He get sick. He die.”

“And you were too starved to let him go to waste?” Sophie nodded, less disgusted than she thought she ought to be. “I get it. Look, Nancy and I are going to leave, okay? We only wanted to say hi, but you clearly have your own thing going on here.”

“You stay.” He looked her up and down. “I don’t mind you stay. You eat. We laugh. Is good.”

“Nah, I’m gunna head out. This ain’t my scene, mate. I’m hungry, but not that hungry.”

“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” said Nancy.

The man strode forward, knife pointed at Sophie. “You stay, or I beat you and tie you up.”

Sophie grabbed Nancy and stood in front of her. “Get lost, all right? Touch us and I’ll claw your goddamn eyes out.”

The man just laughed at that. “I like you.”

Realising that he wasn’t going to give up, Sophie kicked at his balls. She hit her target, but the crotch of his jeans took the brunt of it. While she was off balance, he grabbed her and turned her around, wrapping an arm around her waist. He licked at her cheek. “You are mine now.”

Nancy launched herself into the air, clawing at the man’s face while he was busy with Sophie. “Leave her the fuck alone.”

The man released Sophie and stumbled back, palm against his ragged forehead. He bellowed in a foreign language, fury mixed with madness. Then he flung himself at Nancy.

Sophie got in the way.

She punched their attacker in the side of the jaw. It rocked him hard enough to send him off course. Immediately, she went to attack him again, but he spun around and backhanded the knife across the side of her arm. She squealed in pain as the tender flesh of her triceps parted and the man pounced on her. He rammed his bleeding forehead into the bridge of her nose and roared.

Sophie had never had a broken nose before, but she knew she had one now. She crumpled to the floor, blinded in agony. The man proceeded to beat her, punching her over and over again. Every blow caused her vision to spiral. Darkness crept in at the edges of her mind.

“Get off her.” Nancy leapt onto the man’s back, halting the attack. He spun around in a circle, trying to dislodge her. Sophie gritted her teeth and found the strength to get to her feet, her entire face throbbing. She had fallen beside the man’s tent, and she looked around for something to use. On top of the stove was a tin kettle with a handle on top. She grabbed it, disappointed that it wasn’t as heavy as she had hoped. It would have to do.

She turned around, ready to rush to Nancy’s aid…

Something cold slid inside her.

The crazed man stood in front of Sophie, his hand outstretched towards her. “Looks like you will be food,” he said. “Is pity.”

Sophie looked down and saw the knife half-buried in her belly button. She clutched herself, hands quickly covered by her own warm blood. Somewhere close by, Nancy screamed in anguish.

Falling to her knees, Sophie dropped the kettle, and it rolled away from her.

The man stood over her, grinning like a maniac. Nancy had been wrong about not all people being bad. They were all that was left now. “I am sorry, lady, but we are all animals now.”

It was true, and Sophie realised that she had become one too. She had wanted to take from this man as he now wished to take from her. Guilt and innocence no longer existed. The rules had been wiped clean and you were either starving or fed. Alive or dead.

“You’re the only animal here,” Nancy screamed, and she knelt to grab the fallen kettle. Before the man could react, she swung it so hard that it whooshed through the air. It struck the side of his head with a meaty thud. His eyes crossed. He stumbled.

Sophie felt like she was kneeling in crashing waves. She yanked the blade out of her stomach and examined it, finding it oddly pretty: the glinting sheen of metal mixed with the darkness of her blood. Even the coppery smell was pleasant.

Nancy rushed over to her and snatched the knife from her hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

Sophie turned her head, distracted by movement. Weakly, she managed, “Look out!”

Nancy turned to see the dazed man racing in to attack her. She reacted on instinct, throwing out her arms, and planted the bloody knife right in the side of his neck. He dropped to one knee, gurgling and clutching at his jugular. He pulled the knife out and tossed it down. A jet of blood gushed out onto the grass.

He died less than a minute later.

Sophie was probably going to be joining him soon.

She slumped onto her back, her body cold. Nancy knelt over her, cupping her face in both hands. “Don’t leave me,” she begged. “I can’t be here without you. Come on, Sophie. Come on!”

A gush of air escaped Sophie, and she found herself at peace. “I love you, Nancy. Tell Ryan I love him too.”

“You can tell him yourself, goddamn it.”

Sophie thought about where she was heading next and smiled. She smiled because she thought Ryan might be there too. Maybe she really could tell him herself.

“Stay with me, Sophie. Please. Stay.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Sophie, stay with me!”

But she couldn’t.

Chapter Twelve

Up close, and in the safety of the channel forged by Helper, it was possible to study the fungus up close. Aaron slowed his walk and peered at the fuzzy green stalks curiously as he passed them. They were made up of criss-crossed fibres, almost like a cotton tapestry dyed green. Crawling back and forth along those fibres were fat, four-legged slugs, smaller than those that came bursting out of infected animals, but clearly the same animal. Based on the size of the fungus field, there must have been millions of the disgusting critters. Maybe billions.

And every one of them spreads the fungus.

We’re so close to the end. If this doesn’t work out, the world doesn’t have long left.

Up ahead, the fungus stalks grew even taller, five feet and above. Taller because they were older and had had more time to grow. The closer they got to Choirikell, the worse things would likely get. It was almost impossible to see the village now, especially since they had entered into the dip at the bottom of the hill.

The fungus stalks in front seemed to sway.

Helper stopped. His fans shimmered in the air.

Ranger went and sat behind the alien, bum waggling, ears alert.

“What is it?” asked Aaron. “Why did you stop, Helper?”

“Danger.”

There was no reason to ask Helper to elaborate, because the stalks began to part as creatures burst through the fungus field on all sides. There were flashes of white as talons whipped high above the stalks.

Instinctively, everyone bunched up, facing outwards. Cameron clenched his fists and growled. “The bugger’s led us into a trap.”

Aaron could read the concern coming off of Helper, despite the alien having no human expression. “He didn’t. This is just the fight we signed up for.”

Cameron raised his rifle and fired a burst just as a green launched out of the stalks. Its chest opened up like a waxy husk, and flakes of dead, infected flesh filled the air.

Then half a dozen more greens attacked from the field.

Aaron used his .22 as a club. Fiona, Teddy, and Helen aimed handguns. Helper sliced the air with his blades. The greens fell easily, but they kept on coming. They were slightly different to those encountered before – dried out and fragile. While it might have been his imagination, Aaron thought the air felt dry too.

The atmosphere here is different.

This place is no longer ours.

At least until we take it back.

Aaron swung his rifle and clubbed a green in the jaw. Its entire face ruptured and fell off its skull. He kicked it over with his foot, surprised by how light it was. When it hit the blackened ground, its whole body came apart.

“They’re barely held together,” said Fiona, firing a shot into what might once have been a young woman. “It’s like they’re made out of leaves.”

“If it makes ’em easier to kill,” said Cameron, “I’ll take it.”

Helen aimed and took the head off a swollen-bellied green. She laughed afterwards, saying, “Reckon that was Postman Pete. Never liked that guy. Pervert.”

“Come on,” said Aaron, realising Helper was moving forward without them and reducing more of the fungus stalks to blackened mulch. Ranger was right beside the alien, leaping up and down and barking while keeping her distance from the attacking monsters. Perhaps the dog realised she was safest with Helper. Indeed, it seemed like he was trying his best to keep her in his protective orbit.

“There’s more coming,” Fiona warned. She was fumbling to put a new clip into her handgun. Three months ago, she had never held a gun.

Helper lashed out at several greens ahead. Their bodies crumbled.

Cameron bellowed in anger, holding the trigger on his SA80 until it emptied, and then swinging the rifle over his head like a war hammer. Helen was laughing maniacally, kicking and striking with the grip of her handgun. They ran out of ammo fast, so it became a hopeless melee. More and more enemies launched themselves from the dense fungus field, hidden until the last moment by the giant stalks. Aaron lost his footing and stumbled backwards into the growth. The feel of the crispy fronds against his arms made him recoil. It was like being brushed by the fingers of a corpse.

A green threw itself at Aaron. He held his .22 horizontal across his chest like a hockey stick and thrust out. The blow knocked the green’s head back, its neck snapping like a rotten branch. It fell to its knees with its skull dangling between its shoulder blades. Aaron then spun around and clocked a second green in the side of the head right as it was about to lash out at him with a talon. The impact crushed its skull but sent Aaron stumbling into the stalks. He tripped and fell but quickly got back up.

All he saw was green.

He moved back towards the blackened pathway. But it wasn’t there. He picked another direction but couldn’t find his friends. He heard their shouts but they were muffled and indistinct. It was like being underwater.

He was lost in an alien world.

“No, no, no.” Something whipped out from between the stalks and sliced Aaron’s arm. He began to bleed, but the pounding of his heart was the only thing he could think about. He was whipped a second time, across the back of his skull. He spun around and swung his rifle into the stalks. The stock connected with something soft and the attack stopped.

Panicked, claustrophobic, and injured, Aaron threw himself forward, swimming on his feet. He didn’t know which direction to go, but he simply had to get away – away from the alien landscape and away from this nightmare he found himself in. The sky was grey overhead. The ground was a carpet of mossy green. Everywhere he moved, giant stalks fought against him. He felt bugs on his skin.

“Help! Help me.”

He thought he heard Cameron’s voice, but it was far away, almost imagined.

“I-I can’t get out. I…” He bent over and started to hyperventilate. He threw out an arm, bending the stalks in front of him but seeing nothing beyond them but more green.

He was going to die in here, consumed by the very organism he had come to kill.

I failed. Ryan gave his life to save me and I ended up dead in the exact same place I left him. How many people died to keep me alive? Brett, Miles, Ryan, Boon, John.

John…

Aaron gasped as a thought occurred to him. He reached into his jacket and grabbed for the only other object he had. For a moment, he feared he would find the item to be lost, but when his fingers wrapped around the wooden compass, he sighed with relief.

John had told him the compass was broken, that it always led him into trouble. That didn’t sound good, but at least it might allow him to walk a straight line. Right now, he couldn’t tell left from right, and his friends only sounded further and further away.

He flipped the lid on the compass and looked for the hand. It was pointing slightly left of north, but it remained dead set as he rotated the unit in his hand. The arm stayed in place, not moving so much as a millimetre. Perhaps following it would be a bad idea, but he could think of nothing else.

He started moving, putting one foot in front of the other as he kept his eyes on the compass arm. His head throbbed where he’d been slashed. Once again, he was infected, but there was no time to worry about it now. If he somehow managed to reunite with the others, then he would have to pray that Helper could cure him for a second time. If not, then there was nothing he could do about it anyway.

He had no idea if he was heading north, or what the compass was pointing at, but he began to gain confidence that he was at least moving in a straight line. The stalks rose overhead, getting taller and taller. That might mean he was getting closer to Choirikell and the older growth of the original spread. He just hoped his friends managed to find their way there too. There was a high likelihood that he would never see them again, and it filled him with rage. Rage bred from frustration and exhaustion. It pushed any sadness aside.

There was another green up ahead, but it didn’t seem to see Aaron. There was a bug on his arm, and he squashed it with his thumb. He lifted his rifle and eyed his unsuspecting enemy. “Live or die, I’m here to do some damage.”

As if to spur Aaron on, the sun made an appearance overhead. There was a strange reddish tint to the predominantly grey sky, but the sun fought back with a weak white glow. It felt like it was fighting just as hard as Aaron to push back the enemy. Their enemy who did not belong here.

How far away are the aliens who sent the fungus? How far did Helper travel to get here?

We’re not alone in the universe.

And it’s full of monsters.

A green he had just killed lay two feet behind him. His rifle lay next to it, the stock splintered and broken after being used one too many times as a club. He was now unarmed, and bleeding from two infected wounds. The back of his skull throbbed, the infection probably already on its way to his brain.

It was impossible to see ahead, so he just followed the compass, hoping it would lead him… somewhere. He just hoped he would get there before his body gave out. His breathing was ragged, and every now and then, stars appeared in his vision. No question, he was in a bad way.

And there were more threats coming his way.

The stalks ahead began to sway. Another green incoming.

Aaron clenched his fists, painfully aware he had never been in a fistfight before. Without his rifle, he had nothing but his bare hands.

The green broke free of the stalks. A grotesque male completely in the nude. His penis was a strand of green wire dangling between his swollen thighs. His right hand had been replaced by a tentacle and whip.

Aaron threw a punch, but it was awkward and hit the side of the green’s neck. Chunks of flesh came away, plastering his fist, but before he could throw a second punch, a talon whipped out and struck him in the stomach.

The world became a vacuum.

All the air escaped Aaron, and it was impossible to suck any more in. He clutched his stomach, hot blood seeping between his fingers. The impact had winded him, and all thoughts of fighting back abandoned him as a mortal panic came over him. He gasped and tried to breathe, growing dizzy and falling to the spongey ground.

This can’t be it.

No one will ever even find my body.

The green was emotionless as it peered down at Aaron with one human eye and one fuzz-encrusted one. Its talon rose up in the air, preparing to whip at him again. If it struck Aaron’s neck or an artery, it was game over. The problem was, his lungs had turned to stone and his body was barely obeying him.

The stalks parted and another creature burst through. Instead of green, this one was brown and smaller. It rose up into the air, stretching out into the shape of a missile.

Ranger collided with the green and knocked it to the ground. The dog then proceeded to tear and rip at the infected man’s throat until his fragile spine snapped and his head rolled away like a football.

Aaron caught a breath, sucking in air hungrily. His chest was flattened, but slowly the stabbing pain in his ribs went away and his lungs filled. He put a hand out anxiously towards Ranger, wondering if the dog had panicked and turned feral, but as soon as she saw him, she licked his fingers and wagged her tail. Aaron scratched her behind the ear, incredibly pleased to see her. “Good girl. Good girl.”

Ranger turned back to the stalks and seemed ready to dart away, but she stopped and looked back at him. She gave a short yip.

Aaron clambered to his feet, wheezing and moaning. “You want me to follow you, huh?”

Ranger yipped again, and when he took a step, she began moving through the stalks.

He followed the dog as best he could, trying not to lose sight of her. Her bushy tail beat back and forth, hitting the fungus and creating a noise for him to follow. Aaron realised he was still holding the small compass, and as he looked at it, he saw that he was moving away from where it was pointing. As John had warned him, it only led to trouble.

Ranger disappeared up ahead. Aaron was about to call out to bring her back, when he broke free of the stalks and entered a blackened circle of dead fungus. There, the others lay on the ground, panting and injured. Helper was hurt too, his body criss-crossed with slices and blue blood oozing down his stony flesh. The alien was sitting, which was odd to look at: three stubby legs spread out in front of it.

“We thought we’d lost ye, Little English,” said Cameron, sitting on the ground and clutching a badly torn thigh. Helen and Fiona sat nearby, nursing their own wounds. Teddy had a slash across his chest, adding to the wounds already there.

“We got hit hard,” said Teddy. “Glad you’re still on your feet, man. Guess this is the end though, huh?”

Aaron groaned, dismayed to see his friends so hurt and hopeless. There was a dull despair in their eyes. “Helper will heal us of our infections. It will be okay.”

Cameron shrugged. “Poor fella’s as fecked as we are. He won’t do his thing on any of us.”

“Have you asked him?”

“How?”

Aaron stepped towards the alien. “Helper. Heal. Friends. Allies.”

Helper shifted slightly, the large black eyes pointing at him. “Death. Broken. End.”

“I think that means he’s done,” said Helen, chuckling to herself. She lay back on the blackened ground, seemingly at peace. “Leave him be.”

Aaron took an unbalanced step and almost sprained an ankle. The jolt of pain revived him a little, and he was then able to stand taller. “We can’t just lie here and give up. We didn’t come only to get this far. Choirikell is right there. Look!” Up the hill, the tops of buildings were visible. The tallest was the twisted, blackened spire of the burned-down church. “We have to keep moving.”

Cameron tried to get up, but his thigh gushed blood and he barked in pain. It was clear he was in unbearable agony. “I’m sorry, Little English. I cannae move. I need to wrap this leg before I can even think aboot standing.”

“I’ll come,” said Teddy, although his voice was hardly audible. His breathing rattled. When he moved, it was like an old man in need of a cane.

Aaron shook his head, realising the lad wouldn’t make it more than a few steps. Fiona might have been able to make it, but how long before the greens attacked again and finished her off?

We’re all dead.

So what do I have to lose?

Aaron held up the compass and looked at it. It pointed right towards the hill, right towards Choirikell. If he followed it, it would take him right through the village and to McGregor’s cottage beyond. There was still time to do this, but not if anyone was slowing him down.

“I’ve known you all for three months,” he said. “That’s nothing really, but I love you all. I need you to know that.”

Cameron waved a hand. “Silly bollocks.”

Fiona smiled. “We know.”

“Love you too, kid,” said Helen.

Aaron made eye contact with Teddy, who was frowning awkwardly. “Not you, Teddy. I just met you. I meant I love the others.”

“Give it time,” he said. “I’ll grow on you.”

“The only thing growing around here is the fungus,” said Helen. “I nae think there’ll be time for anyone to get to know you better, Teddy.”

Teddy shrugged. “Still. At least we tried, huh? I’m kind of glad it went down like this. Seeing this place… Gerard and the rest of us were living on borrowed time. At least my eyes are open.”

Aaron smiled, glad to see everyone handling their impending dooms as well as could be expected. He wished he could stick around and see out the end with them, but he had work to do. He went over to Fiona and took something out of his pocket. “If Helper manages to heal you, deliver this to Sophie.”

She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “What? I don’t understand.”

He made her take the letter from him, shoving it into her hand. “Just do your best, okay? If you ever find my mam and Sophie, give them Ryan’s letter. Please?”

“Of course, but…”

“I gotta go,” said Aaron, before anyone could see what he was planning. He hurried to the edge of the blackened circle of ground, the green stalks towering over him.

Cameron tried to get up again. “The hell ye doing, lad?”

“Using the last of the time I have left. I can’t sit around waiting to die. I’m sorry.”

“What? Dinnae be a fool!”

“Sit down,” said Fiona. “Don’t leave us.”

Helen sat up. “Oi, Aaron, come back here, you eejit.”

But Aaron gave them no chance to stop him. He leapt amongst the stalks and lifted his compass, following the arm as it pointed towards the village. He planned to make it all the way to McGregor’s cabin, with a single stop along the way.

Aaron thought someone was chasing him through the stalks, but when he turned back, he saw that it was only Ranger. He laughed and patted the dog on the head. “Teddy is going to get mad if you keep running off with me. You’re his dog.” The dog sat and wagged her tail, causing Aaron to reconsider. “No, you’re your own dog, aren’t you? You’re free. Thanks for coming along.”

The way ahead was tough, the stalks thick and high. Pushing them aside took effort, each one heavy and stiff. Aaron sweated from the exertion, but also because the air was dry and hard to breathe. The ground was lumpy, things buried, overgrown with fungus. It might have been the mess left behind by the army, and when he reached a small mound shaped like a single-storey building, he wondered if it was the petrol station on the edge of the village. That meant the pub would be close.

Ryan is close.

The fungus parted in places where the ground was too scorched to allow growth. It was in these places that Aaron tried to get his bearings, looking at the compass while tiptoeing to try and see as much as he could. Mostly he saw the tops of buildings, most covered in fungus, but some were scorched and blackened. He headed to the largest one he could see, recognising it.

He kept waiting to be attacked, but he had encountered nothing since leaving his friends behind. Perhaps the greens that had attacked previously were the only ones left. They had been so brittle and delicate, as if they had been slowly disintegrating.

Aaron reached the remains of Dale’s pub and stopped where he thought the main entrance used to be. The pub’s interior was visible through small gaps in the fungus that grew over every window. It was blackened and burnt out, the ceilings caved in and lying on the floor. There was no way inside, even if it wasn’t encased in a thick growth of fungus. That didn’t matter though, because he had Fiona’s words in his head – the story about the fox. It didn’t matter if he could find Ryan’s body or not. He was here, right next to where he had died. If there was anything close to a spirit, his brother would hear him. Ryan would be there.

I feel him.

“Hey, man. It’s me.” He took a step closer to the front doors, knowing his brother’s remains were only metres away, buried inside. “I miss you. Three months is a long time when it hurts, you know? I keep waiting for it to get better but it doesn’t – at least not that part of things. Other things are better. I’m not alone, for one thing. You left me with good people. Family. Not blood, or anything, but the closest thing. Cameron kept his word: he’s been looking after me like you asked. He’s a good man. Maybe he learned a thing or two from you.” He shook his head and a tear spilled down his cheek. “Everyone misses you, Ryan. We all remember what you did to get us out of this place. The last you knew of me, I was a self-centred kid, but I’m trying really hard to be a man you would be proud of. I’m probably going to fail, but I’m going back to McGregor’s cottage to try and do something to help everyone. It matters that I’m trying, right? It’s better to do something rather than nothing. It’s what you would have done.” Aaron took a deep breath, feeling the life leaking out of him. His head throbbed and his arm raged with a fiery heat. He remembered back to the beginning, when Sean had got infected up on the hill. It had taken his mind first. How long before things stopped making sense? Maybe they already had. Aaron might be walking around with talons hanging from his arms, only believing in his own mind that he was standing outside the pub saying goodbye to his brother.

“I love you, man. We’ll be together again soon. Also, thanks a lot for inviting me to your stag do. It really sucked.” He turned and began walking, but he stopped to say one last thing. “Oh, and Man United forever.”

Ranger wagged her tail beside him, so he knelt to pat her. He gathered the dog up and held her for several moments, enjoying the earthy, animal scent of her. She was the best reminder of all of what life had once been. Man, animal, nature; it was all beautiful. Maybe the fungus was beautiful too. How was it any different to an English rose or an extravagant peacock? It was life, doing what it needed to thrive. The fungus wasn’t even here by choice, but now that it was, it merely wanted to live. The fungus was no more guilty than a bullet. The true villain was whoever had sent it here.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to watch the fungus burn.

Aaron resumed his journey, studying the compass he still hoped would keep him going in a straight line. The village was a surreal landscape of scorched, lifeless earth and green vibrant growth. The buildings were either blackened husks or mounds of green fungus. Besides the pub, the only structure he recognised was the church. Miraculously, its spire was neither burnt nor covered in fungus. High in the sky, it was the only thing in Choirikell that was as it used to be. A cross had never been a symbol of hope for him, but right now the cross gave him a surge of pride. It was a symbol of humanity rising above its enemy.

It was time for Aaron to rise.

The hill was two miles ahead, rising up towards the sky. Nestled midway up was the cottage where Aaron had begrudgingly come to celebrate his brother’s impending marriage – a marriage that would now never happen. It was where all this had started, and it was where it would all end, one way or another.

Before he started the final leg of his journey, Aaron needed to rest. He knelt down and put out a hand to summon Ranger, but the dog kept her distance. She yipped at him, tail lowered. At first it was confusing, but then Aaron saw the thick black lines running down his arm. His veins had thickened beneath his skin and the ragged wound on his forearm had turned a deep, dark green. The back of his head no longer throbbed, and when he fingered the area, it felt fat and spongey. Ranger’s wariness suddenly made sense. “I don’t have long left, do I, girl? It’s okay. If you want to go then go. Just don’t attack me, please.”

But Ranger stayed put. While she would no longer come to him, she stayed close. When he started walking again, she followed. It seemed she was content to keep an eye on him.

The way ahead grew harder to navigate. Aaron had to rely completely on the compass. The stalks were taller than they had ever been, ten feet tall. Ranger slunk left and right, zigzagging back and forth, while Aaron had to shoulder his way forward. Two miles of this was going to be hell, and if he tried to take it slow, his time might run out. He was turning into a green. A dead man walking.

I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for everyone else that’s left.

As he kept his eye on the compass, the arm suddenly began to change direction. He stopped dead. Then, moving forward, the arm continued to turn, pointing slightly to his right. The further forward he walked, the more the compass pointed to the right.

“What are you attracted to? It’s not north, is it?”

With his time running out, Aaron had little option but to see what had caused the compass to change direction. He turned to Ranger, who was three feet behind. “Looks like we’re going this way.”

Taking a shallow breath, Aaron swatted aside the stalks and followed the compass’s new bearings. The fungus began to thin out, not as tall and not as thick. Eventually, it gave way completely to an area of blackened ground that went on for a hundred metres. In the centre of the clearing was a small, dark object. Perhaps the compass was pointing at that. When he got closer, he was sure of it.

Aaron checked that Ranger was still with him. The dog was right on his heels, seeming a little less wary. For whatever reason, the fungus did not exist in the clearing. The fire had done its work, but it was more than that. There were patches of healthy, normal soil, and the remnants of a road. The object ahead was wider at the top than the bottom. It was scorched and twisted. Aaron quickly realised what it was. It was a corkscrew. One of those that had fallen directly in the village. It had melted, puddled around the base like a spent candle. There was no fungus anywhere near it.

“It’s dead,” said Aaron. “The fire in the village destroyed it.” He turned to Ranger, excited. “And the fungus around it is gone.”

Most of Choirikell was still, of course, covered in fungus, but as Aaron thought about it, he formed a theory. Perhaps all the remaining fungus here was from the corkscrew on the hill. While this corkscrew was dead, the one on the hill had worked overtime to claim the village by itself. One thing was clear: any fungus that had emanated from this particular corkscrew was dead. There were clumps of it scattered all over the ground. It wasn’t burnt or even rotten; it had liquified into gelatinous globs.

Aaron circled the dead corkscrew, keeping an eye on the compass. It followed the corkscrew, always pointing directly at it. Until he reached a certain point where the needle began to flicker, hopping back and forth like it couldn’t decide which way to go. At first it made no sense, but then Aaron realised what was happening.

The compass pointed towards the corkscrews. They must give off a magnetic signal. John had said the compass had always led him into hot water, and that was because the compass always pointed towards the epicentre of the fungus outbreaks – the corkscrews.

The compass was stuck between two destinations, the corkscrew he was standing beside… and another. The other must have been the corkscrew on the hill responsible for the fungus in Choirikell.

It was time to finish this.

“Come on, Ranger. Let’s go.”

Ranger growled, and followed along.

Chapter Thirteen

Aaron didn’t think he could make it. The ground underfoot shifted and moulded around his feet. It was like walking along a beach, and his shins ached more and more with every step. The stalks of fungus were like trees, blotting out all but the strongest rays of sunlight. It was cold and hard to breathe. An alien planet.

Yet, Aaron continued, Ranger alongside him, until he reached the part of the hillside where it flattened out. Twenty feet ahead, a blocky structure rose towards the sky. The cottage.

“The old place has gone to shit,” said Aaron, shoving aside the stalks to get a better look. There was no way inside the building, and if not for him having been there before, it would have been impossible to tell what it had ever been. It was only its square shape that gave it away as something man-made. Nature didn’t like corners.

Maybe to quell his fears, Aaron spoke to Ranger. As much as he worried for himself, he worried for the animal. What had made her want to follow him? They were surrounded by the fungus, and the fat little slugs were everywhere, dropping from stalks and writhing in the soil. Aaron swatted them off his arms and neck as if they were pesky gnats. There was little chance she didn’t sense that he was infected – he could feel the fungus creeping beneath his skin – but she seemed to sense that he was still himself too.

For now.

During the last twenty minutes, Aaron had begun to feel strange. Outside of himself. Feverish. There seemed to be a delay between his brain and his body. He had to plan every movement. His left arm was rotten, comprising black veins and green fuzz. He could barely move his fingers, which were swollen and discoloured. One of his fingernails was slipping away from its bed. Yet he experienced no pain, which didn’t feel like a good thing. It made him feel even more inhuman.

There was just one final act to accomplish. One last mountain to climb.

The hill’s peak rose directly behind the cottage. Upon that hill was the corkscrew that had crashed down into the earth and spilled its deadly contents onto the rocky landscape. The same thing had happened in thousands of other places, but this particular one belonged to Aaron. It was his personal foe – the benefactor of all his misery. He was here to destroy it.

Even if it destroys me.

Aaron rounded the fungus-covered cottage and started up the hill. Ironically, it was easier to climb thanks to the green stalks now growing all over it. Aaron was able to grab hold and pull himself upwards. If the fungus was radiation, he would have been lethally exposed, but the fungus could only infect him once, and that horse had bolted. Perhaps Ranger realised it too, because she showed no concern about climbing the densely covered hill even as the infectious bugs dropped all over her.

Despite being easier to climb, the hill behind the cottage was still tall, and he had to stop several times to catch his breath. He looked at the compass while he breathed, and saw that it was pointing dead set up the hill. He was now certain that the corkscrews gave off some kind of magnetic field. Perhaps that was what had ruined all of the electronics. Would they work again once the corkscrews were broken?

No, the electronics are already fried. And the dead one back in the village was still attracting the compass.

Just focus on what you need to do.

Aaron caught his breath and started to climb again. His vision was blurry, and there was immense pressure behind his left eye. It felt like he had sand in his veins and caterpillars in his stomach. A voice in his head whispered at him to lie down, to just cease struggling and rest. It was a convincing voice, but it was joined by another. Ryan told him to keep going. You got this, our kid.

Aaron kept on going. Behind him, Ranger growled. At first, he thought she was growling a warning, but then Aaron realised the dog was growling at him. Her hackles were up.

“Easy, girl. Easy!”

I’m almost one of them. She’s going to tear my throat out.

Realising that Ranger was going to turn on him any minute, Aaron used everything he had to pull himself to the top of the hill. When the slope began to level out, he threw himself forward and flopped onto his hands and knees. He gasped and spluttered, green sputum flinging from between his lips. His left hand split open between the middle and ring fingers, revealing a bony protuberance within. He was changing fast. Much faster than Sean or Loobey or Brett had. The infection in the back of his head hadn’t had far to travel.

“I still have time. I can do this.”

There were more whispers in his head, friendly voices telling him that everything was okay, and that it was fine to rest. They cared about him, the voices said. They wanted the pain to stop.

Don’t fookin’ listen to ’em, little bro. They’re trying to mug you off.

Soddin’ City supporters, mate, the lot of ’em.

Aaron sneered. “Down with the blues, mate.” He clambered forward five metres on his hands before finally pushing himself back up to his feet. Behind him, Ranger growled more and more fiercely. Her head lowered and her flanks raised. She was preparing to attack.

“You’re a good dog, Ranger. If you can, just give one more minute, okay? Good girl. Good girl, Ranger.”

The sound of the praise, along with her name, seemed to confuse the dog. Her growling cut off and she shuffled backwards a few steps. For a moment, her tail wagged, and Aaron felt safe enough to turn his back on the dog for a minute. Ahead was what he had come for.

The corkscrew shone in the sunlight, its metallic surface shimmering. Green tendrils wove back and forth across it, and a thick blanket of fungus covered the ground around it. The fungus stalks didn’t grow in the immediate vicinity, leaving a circle eight feet wide around it covered in a tapestry of thick green vines.

No, not vines.

Veins.

The corkscrew was plumbed into the earth, pumping God knew what into the soil. The thing was a canister of hazardous material, cracked open.

“Time to yank out the weeds,” said Aaron as he stumbled forward. His fierce desire to see the corkscrew destroyed was the only thing keeping him going. The only thing keeping total numbness at bay.

But he quickly realised that he hadn’t thought his plan through beyond simply getting here. Now that he had arrived upon the hill, how the hell did he destroy the corkscrew? His .22 was broken and discarded. His bare hands would do no good – and he only had one still under his control. He searched for a solution, but, of course, there was nothing around him but fungus.

“No. No, I can’t get all this way and fail. I am going to fucking destroy you. Do you hear me? For Loobey, and Sean, and Ryan, and all of the other people who died because of you. I’m going to kill you.”

Behind him came a growl.

He turned just as Ranger leapt, lunging towards his throat. He reacted just in time to deflect her snapping teeth and take the bite on his collarbone. The pain broke through the numbness and made him scream. He lashed out instinctively and Ranger yelped, letting go and rolling on the ground. She floundered for a moment, then got up and limped away, bleeding from her side.

Aaron frowned. He raised his left arm and was horrified to see a talon hanging from the centre of his ruined hand.

I’m one of them.

No, I’m still me.

Barely.

Aaron stood before the corkscrew, glaring at it. He wished he could summon up the strength to rip the thing right out of the ground and hurl it back where it came from. There had to be a way. But all he had was the stupid compass pressed in his right palm.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned and saw something rising up to his left. The mossy, fungus-covered ground was collecting together, forming a mound that grew and grew. Something began to take shape.

The whispers got louder, demanding that Aaron give in. To join.

Join.

Rest. Be one. Join.

The green mass resembled some kind of perverted snowman, round and indistinct. Then, slowly, the details emerged. First, a twisted torso. Then arms. Next came a face.

But not just one face. There were many, each appearing for only a split second, like a stack of photographs falling away.

Loobey. Sean. Brett. Miles. And dozens more. All victims of the fungus. All people who had joined. The same faces over and over again.

Aaron stood as straight as he could manage. “Show me someone else, huh? Show me someone who wasn’t infected up here on this hill. How about all the people in India or China? Show me someone different. Go on!”

The same faces kept appearing; maybe a hundred in total, but all the same.

“You can’t, can you?” He sneered, hoping the beast could feel shame and embarrassment. “You can only show me the faces from the people you infected in Choirikell because you’re cut off. You’re an individual payload, a special forces soldier behind enemy lines. I destroy you, and this whole place will be free of you. Then, on to the next, and the next, and the next. You’re not going to win this because you’re isolated. Every one of you.”

Join.

“You’re afraid.”

You are powerless. Your people are gone.

“Not all of us. Civilisation started with a single flame. We’re going to beat you.”

The mass rose up higher, still sporting the faces of friends and strangers. Aaron was rooted to the spot, and when he looked down, he saw his ankles were buried deep in the mossy floor. His body was convulsing – tensed then relaxed, tensed then relaxed. Something was fighting for control of it. He tried to fight it.

A tentacle formed out of the mass and whipped through the air. It wrapped around Aaron’s throat and tore him from the ground, lifting him four feet in the air. His airways were cut off, but he didn’t struggle. Breathing seemed unnecessary now.

Loobey’s face glared at him, formed of green fibres and glistening tendrils. It seemed to mock him with an inhuman smirk, but Aaron just grunted and smiled. He fought with the tentacles around his neck, opening up his airway enough to speak. “You can’t use him against me. You can’t make his face, can you? Because he died being a hero. He beat you.”

All shall lose. All shall join.

The cataclysm comes.

“Fuck… you.” Aaron lifted his right hand, which was barely under his control. He still held the compass, the lid open. With his numb thumb, he fumbled in the space beneath the catch. A lens caught the sunlight, the tiny magnifying glass sliding free. “My friend taught me this trick.”

Aaron held the magnifying glass up to the sun, which seemed to shine even brighter. It was on his side, a part of the natural order that did not want this invader here any more than he did.

Just like when John had shown him, nothing happened, and he began to fear it wouldn’t work.

But then a tiny slither of smoke appeared.

Aaron couldn’t breathe or even move his face, but a thrill shot through his veins as the smoke grew thicker. It emanated from the tentacle around his throat. The flame grew slowly, like a distant vehicle coming into view on the highway. Gradually, it got bigger and bigger, until it was too large to ignore. It began to spread along the tentacle towards the large mass of fungus.

Its face contorted in terror.

Yes, Aaron thought. Let this whole place burn.

The tentacle removed itself from Aaron’s throat and recoiled as the flame took hold. The crisp, dry fibres went up like tinder, and soon an inferno found life.

Aaron stumbled away, gravity and momentum taking him rather than his legs. He fell to the ground a few feet from the corkscrew.

Ranger raced across the hill and leapt on him, proceeding to tear into his left arm, already rotten and ruined from the infection. That was okay; she could take the wretched thing. It was no longer a part of him.

You will suffer, came the whispers. You shall join.

“Up yours,” said Aaron as the dog continued to savage him.

And then he was gone, lost in the whispering darkness as a great fire rose up around him.

Cameron could barely walk, but Helper did something with his fans that had numbed his wounds. The alien was wounded too, but it seemed to have caught a second wind. All of them bled from their infected wounds, but the alien’s vibrating blue fans seemed to keep the infection from spreading. Fiona, Helen, and Teddy all held on to one another, helping each other to walk. They were a spent force, no doubt, but they weren’t going to let Aaron die alone. As soon as they had found the strength, they set off into the village.

Helper worked much slower than before, making strange mewing sounds every now and then that showed that the creature felt pain just like they did. The infection didn’t seem to take root in the alien’s wounds, but they did bleed a lot.

Blue blood, thought Cameron. I always hated blue bloods until now.

“The cottage is just up there,” he told Teddy, who grabbed him under the arm when he saw he was flagging. “That’s where Little English is heading.”

“He couldn’t have made it much faster than us,” said Teddy. “Not without Helper.”

It was true that the way ahead was much easier going with the alien killing off the fungus and forming a pathway. Aaron would have had to fight for every inch.

“Ranger?” Teddy yelled, like he had been doing for the last half an hour. The dog had run off into the stalks, possibly following Aaron. Cameron didn’t see much help for the dog. He didn’t see much help for any of them.

I’m infected to buggery. How much time do I have left until I’m one of them green bastards?

I’ll spend the rest of my life as a Celtic. There are worse ways to die.

“I’m not sure I can make it,” said Helen. Her boozing and lazing about from the last few months had caught up with her, and she looked a hundred years old.

Fiona propped her up and told her to keep going. “Not much further to go. You got this, Helen. Think about your boy. We have a chance to kill this thing.”

“If Aaron’s theory is right,” said Teddy.

“That kid is always right,” said Cameron. “Ever since the beginning Aaron has had this thing’s number. I didn’t listen to him in Culdrake, but I should have.”

“Blanket,” said Helper. “Blanket. Enemy. Death.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “It’s right up there, eh?”

“Blanket. Death. Fire.”

Cameron frowned. “What’s that now?”

“He said fire.” Fiona sniffed the air. “Hey, do you smell that?”

Everyone took a moment to sniff. Then everyone nodded.

“Something is burning,” said Helen. “Do you think… do you think Aaron did it?”

Teddy gasped and then leapt up and down. “Ranger! Come here, girl.”

The dog came bounding down the hill, tail wagging back and forth. Her fur was matted, and when she got close enough it became clear that she was hurt. Cut on the side.

Teddy made a fuss of her, and groaned when his hand came back bloody. “Shit, girl, what happened?”

Now she had reached them, the dog flopped to the ground, hurt and exhausted. Her tongue lolled out and she began to pant. Cameron couldn’t be certain, but she looked at death’s door. Teddy seemed to realise it too, because he fell silent, kneeling next to the dog and stroking her softly.

“That’s it, girl. You rest now. Everything is going to be okay. Good girl.”

Helper turned and barged past Cameron. “Dog. Ally. Friend. Easy. Easy.”

Everyone stayed still while Helper got to work. They had learned to let the alien just do what it wanted to do. He always had his reasons.

Teddy slid back slightly as the alien approached, and he didn’t even protest when Helper flopped down on top of Ranger. The dog yelped and struggled, understandably panicked, but there was nothing she could do. Two minutes later, Helper rose back to his feet and staggered aside. Once again, the alien seemed hurt and exhausted.

But Helper sprang to her feet, wagging her tail and hopping back and forth. Tears gushed down Teddy’s cheeks, and his mouth stretched into the widest smile.

“Something is burning up there,” said Fiona, pointing up the hill. Black smoke rose into the air, the source not yet in sight.

Ranger yipped and bolted away. Teddy ran after her, his tiredness suddenly forgotten.

“Come on,” said Cameron. “Aaron might need our help.”

The three of them set off as quickly as their wounds would allow, dog and alien in tow.

Fifteen minutes later, they were barely able to stay on their feet, but they reached McGregor’s cottage. The old place was covered in two things: fungus and fire. The entire hillside was aflame. the fungus was burning to a crisp.

There was no sign of Aaron.

Ranger bolted around behind the burning cottage, scurrying up the remaining hill. There were few places to go that weren’t on fire, but the animal found a way. Teddy called after her, but she wouldn’t return.

“Aaron,” said Cameron, and then he yelled it. When there was no reply, he began to fear the worst. “He must be up there. He said the corkscrew was up on the hill.” He turned back to his companions, two women he had known for what seemed like a lifetime and a young lad who he had recently tried to kill. They were good people. But they were tired, hurt, and defeated.

This is the only time I’ve ever been of use. I were never good at anything, but I’m good at this. I’m good at taking care of the people I care about.

And I care about that feckin’ kid too much to leave him up there alone.

“Wait here,” said Cameron, and he rushed around the cottage on his stiff, wounded leg. Pain demanded him to stop, but he had never taken orders from anybody, so he wasn’t about to start now.

I’m coming for you, Little English.

Aaron opened his eyes and saw darkness. He realised it was the sky, stained with smoke. He tasted fire at the back of his throat and spat and coughed. Heat licked his skin with a needled tongue, but he was too numb to feel anything else.

The whispers had gone.

He turned his head, looking for the corkscrew, and saw it aflame. It gave off a high-pitched squeal like an old-fashioned kettle boiling. The fungus around its base was shrivelling in the heat, consumed by the fire. The flames consumed everything, spread out several metres from the melting mass that had risen to taunt Aaron with the faces of his dead friends. Soon, the fire would reach Aaron’s legs and reduce him to ash.

But he had done what he came here to do.

I did it. I destroyed it.

Too right, you did, our kid, said Ryan. Nice one.

Aaron relaxed and almost accepted his fate, but some tiny spark inside him got him moving. Weak and wounded, he dragged himself, one-handed, across the warm ground. He couldn’t help but look back at the corkscrew, enjoying the sight of it burning.

The inferno grew all around him.

He had to move faster.

His legs slowly returned their control to him, and he kicked at the mossy ground. He used his hand to claw at the stalks and pull himself forward.

Sweat poured down his back.

His burning flesh cried out.

He was already dead, yet he desperately clawed and kicked to stay alive. Despite his victory, he didn’t want to die here alone. Maybe if he could just make it back down the hill…

But he couldn’t.

The small reserve of energy he had summoned ran out, and he slumped face down in the fungus. He had only enough strength to lift his head.

The fungus beneath him was dying. Even though the fire hadn’t yet reached it, Aaron could clearly see that the fungus was sickened. Several fat bugs lay dead amongst the fibres. The mossy undergrowth began to wilt. The tall stalks either side of Aaron began to topple over, unable to hold their own weight as their roots shrivelled.

The flames ate up the landscape, a force even more destructive than the fungus. But its spreading ruination was welcome.

Aaron was done. His death was a favour to those who still lived, and although he didn’t welcome his end, he could at least accept it. He began to sing, a song chosen by his brain at random. Three Lions. A song of hope and victory. Of lost battles and friends remembered.

And it was an absolute banger.

“Bloody racket.”

Aaron jolted, unsure if he had heard a voice up there on the hill with him.

Cameron appeared on the mossy ground beside him. Aaron couldn’t lift his head enough to look up, but he knew the big Scot’s heavy black boots. He also knew his voice. “Yoo bloody English never win a soddin’ thing, so stop with ye singing.”

Aaron groaned in pain. “Cam?”

“Aye, lad. Come on. Let’s get ye to a designated assembly point.”

Aaron almost passed out again as Cameron grabbed him by the arm. It was only the sound of his friend’s startled gasps that shocked him back awake.

“What… is it? Cam?”

“It’s nowt, lad. Let’s go. I’ve got you.”

This time, Aaron did pass out, ready to die or be rescued. He would let fate decide which.

Aaron fell in and out of consciousness as Cameron and the others dragged him through the twisted remains of Choirikell. Everywhere he looked, the fungus stalks were toppling over and turning black. The fire was yet to make it down off the hill, but it had done its damage when it had destroyed the corkscrew. Helper had been right. The fungus was dying. Aaron had fantasies of a clean and safe Scotland, but it was probably unlikely to be that simple. What would the landscape look like once the fungus receded? Would the earth be blackened and dead, or would it bounce back to life, nature reclaiming it?

Aaron wasn’t sure he would get to find out.

He felt no pain, and was too weak to look at himself, but he was aware of the way his friends kept looking at him. Concern and horror, that was what their expressions conveyed. Whatever state Aaron was in, it was bad.

I’m dying.

They came to a stop on blackened ground, and Aaron was vaguely aware that it was the clearing around the other corkscrew – the one that had been destroyed by the previous fire.

“I need to catch me breath,” said Cameron. “I think we have some time.”

Aaron turned his head and saw smoke rising in the distance. They had outrun the inferno.

“It’s getting late,” said Teddy, shuffling from foot to foot. “We need to get out of here soon. And how are we going to deal with– ”

“I just need a minute,” said Cameron. He sounded stressed.

“Me too,” said Helen, and she sounded hollow. Something was definitely wrong.

Aaron tried to sit up but found himself stuck in limbo between upright and lying down. His abdomen trembled with the effort until Fiona came and propped him up from behind. “Is everyone okay?” he asked. “Is anyone hurt?”

Of course they are. They’re all infected.

Is that why they look so worried?

“We’re fine,” said Cameron, and it was true. While Aaron had left his friends weak and wounded, they only seemed tired now. Their wounds were caked in dried blood and dirt, but there was no fungus winding its way around their limbs. Had Helper healed them? The alien stood on the edge of the clearing, completely still, completely at peace.

“I think we’re okay,” said Fiona, kneeling and allowing Aaron to use her leg as a backrest. “Helper kept the infection at bay at first, but when the fire started…”

“We’re nae infected any more,” said Cameron. He looked down at his thigh, which was torn above the knee but clean and healthy in so far that a wound could be. “I could feel that nasty shite running through me veins, but since the fire, the feeling’s stopped. When you destroyed the corkscrew, it killed the fungus growing inside of us.”

Helen nodded. “It’s all connected. Look around, it’s all dying off.”

“It’s a beautiful sight,” said Teddy. He knelt beside Ranger, scratching the base of her tail.

Aaron grinned. His friends were going to be okay. They had been victorious in their quest. He felt pretty awesome right now, but that didn’t stop him from lurching forward and moaning as a sudden bout of agony seized him in the middle. Black bile and rancid filth burst forth from his throat. It kept on coming, chunks and chunks of it, spattering the blackened earth. The sound he made was demonic, and he thought he was going to turn inside out. At the same time, it was purifying, the foulness being purged from his body.

Minutes later, he was finally done. He slumped backwards into Fiona’s arms and gasped. “I… I’m okay. The fungus is gone. We did it.”

And I’m not going to die.

It seemed impossible to imagine. He had been certain the end was near up on that hill. He remembered fading away as Ranger ravaged his flesh and the fire raged. Now, he felt closer to life than death. It was a miracle.

And Ryan was still with him.

I never left, our kid. Cartwright brothers don’t stay down.

Aaron smiled. “We’re going to win this war. The fungus was afraid of me up there. I felt its fear. We have to destroy all the corkscrews.”

“Aye,” said Cameron. “We will.”

Why did he sound so sad saying it?

Helper moved beside Aaron and flapped his fans for a minute. Then he let them drop, almost defeatedly. “Aaron. Blanket. Aaron blanket.”

Ranger trotted up beside the alien. She was wagging her tail, but she also eyed Aaron warily. In fact, everyone was eying him warily. What were they so concerned about?

“What?” Aaron asked them all. “What is it? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“It’s your arm,” said Helen, nodding to his left. “I think you should take a breath and look at yourself.”

My arm is gone. Ranger tore it off.

So why doesn’t it hurt?

And why can I still feel it?

With a knot in his stomach, Aaron slowly turned his head. As he feared, his left arm was gone. Strips of muscle and pink flesh remained in places, but no bones. Only flaps of skin. And something else. Shock made him try to lift his arm, even though it was gone. Something moved, flapping on the ground like a fish on land. Then, something heavy and sharp leapt a foot in the air.

“Feck me!” said Cameron, and everyone dodged away from him. The only one who stayed put was Fiona, who continued to hold him up in a sitting position.

Aaron yelled in fright as he saw the tentacle flapping at his side. It was connected to him. He could feel it. Every time he tensed, it thrashed on the ground.

Ranger growled.

Helper raised his fans again and made them flicker.

Aaron clambered to his feet, screaming. The talon at the end of the tentacle – his tentacle – slashed at the air, slicing only a foot from Cameron’s face.

“He’s one of them,” said Teddy. “I warned you.”

“Shut up,” said Cameron.

“No,” Aaron cried. “I’m not one of them. I’m not. I’m still me.” He backed away, tentacle whipping back and forth in front of him. “Please, somebody, help me.” This can’t be true. This can’t be true. What’s happened to me? “Help me!”

But all his friends did was back away.

Chapter Fourteen

The subtle scent of wet grass. Cold rain on her face. For a moment, Sophie thought she had died and gone to some peaceful place made only to pleasure her senses. But then she opened her eyes and saw a darkening sky. She heard Nancy’s screams. She wasn’t dead. Not yet.

She felt sick, nauseous and fevered. Her body felt light and disconnected, like it was trying to get away from her. The ground was hard, causing the back of her head to ache.

“It’s going to be okay, Sophie. I’m going to get help.” She started screaming at the top of her lungs, but it brought Sophie no comfort. There was no help to find. The world was dead, and the few people still alive were like the man who had stabbed her. The man who had been eating his dead nephew. Humanity was corrupt, people now lesser than animals. Soon, they wouldn’t even be that. They would be ashes feeding the earth. It was over.

Please, let it be over.

Nancy continued screaming, begging God for help. Her vacant exhaustion had gone away, and she was frantic, yelling until her voice grew hoarse.

“N-Nancy… Stop. It’s… okay.”

It took several moments to convince her mother-in-law, but eventually she seemed to accept the reality of the situation and knelt down beside Sophie. She sobbed, cupping Sophie’s cheek in her hand. “I’m so sorry. I was weak. You would have been better off without me.”

“No. You were strong.” Sophie smiled, but she was unable to turn her head and look at Nancy. She could only see the sky. “You kept us both human. You kept us from turning into monsters. It’s okay for me to die.”

“It fucking well is not. I’ll never forgive you if you leave me like this.”

“Nancy…”

“No, Sophie, I refuse to let you die. I’m going to find help.”

Sophie moaned. “Stay with me. Just… stay.”

“I have to do something.” Nancy choked back a sob. “I can’t let you die.”

“Just hold me. Please.”

Nancy grunted, but it was only a few seconds before she gathered Sophie up onto her lap. Finally, Sophie could see her mother-in-law’s face. She appeared ancient, with dirty skin like tissue paper. Tears streamed down her cheeks, cutting lines through the mud.

“Oh, Sophie. We were so close. We came so far.”

A lengthy breath escaped Sophie’s lips and her mouth grew dry. “Thirsty.”

“Of course. Let me get you some water.” Nancy placed her down gently on the grass and stepped away. Sophie looked up at the sky again, surprised to see a pair of birds skimming across her vision. Birds had been rare over the last week. It was nice to see some alive. It made her feel less alone.

She licked at her dry lips, anticipating the cold kiss of the water Nancy was fetching for her. It wasn’t much of a last meal, but she would enjoy it all the same.

But Nancy didn’t come back.

“N-Nancy? Nancy, where are you?”

She got no reply. She might have panicked, but she had nothing left to fear. It was more confusion she felt than fear. Where had her mother-in-law suddenly gone?

And what is all that noise?

Sophie realised she could hear voices, and the clinking of metal in time with hurried footsteps. Lots of hurried footsteps. As the voices got closer, she started to make out words.

“Army. Heading south. Culdrake.”

Sophie used all the energy she had left to turn her head. When she managed it, she was shocked. Several dozen men and women were racing across the field towards her. Nancy was with them, waving her arms and pointing ahead.

She found help.

She actually found help.

Nancy made it back to Sophie and dropped onto the grass beside her. “It’s the army,” she said excitedly. “They’ve come from north of the border. They heard me shouting. We’re saved.”

“Ryan? Aaron? Are they…”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. There was no time to ask. All I care about, right now, is you not dying. So don’t, okay? Let these people help you. They have a medic.”

“Okay,” said Sophie dreamily, growing tired in an instant. “I won’t die.”

She didn’t die, but she did pass out.

CONTINUE THE STORY

Don’t stop now!

Continue ‘The Spread’ with Book 5 (Turning Point).

BUY BOOK 5 NOW!

Don't miss out on your FREE Iain Rob Wright horror pack. Five terrifying books sent straight to your inbox.

No strings attached & signing up is a doddle.

Just click here

Plea From the Author

Hey, Reader. So you got to the end of my book. I hope that means you enjoyed it. Whether or not you did, I would just like to thank you for giving me your valuable time to try and entertain you. I am truly blessed to have such a fulfilling job, but I only have that job because of people like you; people kind enough to give my books a chance and spend their hard-earned money buying them.  For that I am eternally grateful.

If you would like to find out more about my other books then please visit my website for full details. You can find it at:

www.iainrobwright.com.

Also feel free to contact me on Facebook, Twitter, or email (all details on the website), as I would love to hear from you.

If you enjoyed this book and would like to help, then you could think about leaving a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or anywhere else that readers visit.  The most important part of how well a book sells is how many positive reviews it has, so if you leave me one then you are directly helping me to continue on this journey as a full time writer.  Thanks in advance to anyone who does.  It means a lot.

Also by Iain Rob Wright

- Animal Kingdom
- AZ of Horror
- 2389
- Holes in the Ground (with J.A.Konrath)
- Sam
- ASBO
- The Final Winter
- The Housemates
- Sea Sick, Ravage, Savage
- The Picture Frame
- Wings of Sorrow

- The Gates, Legion, Extinction, Defiance, Resurgence, Rebirth

- TAR
- House Beneath the Bridge
- The Peeling
- Blood on the bar
- Escape!
- Dark Ride
- 12 Steps

Sarah Stone Thriller Series

- Soft Target, Hot Zone, End Play

Other

- Diary of a flummoxed father

Iain Rob Wright is one of the UK's most successful horror and suspense writers, with novels including the critically acclaimed, THE FINAL WINTER; the disturbing bestseller, ASBO; and the wicked screamfest, THE HOUSEMATES.

His work is currently being adapted for graphic novels, audio books, and foreign audiences. He is an active member of the Horror Writer Association and a massive animal lover.

www.iainrobwright.com

FEAR ON EVERY PAGE

For more information
www.iainrobwright.com
iain.robert.wright@hotmail.co.uk

Facebook

Twitter

Copyright © 2021 by Iain Rob Wright

Cover Photographs © Shutterstock

Artwork by Stuart Bache at Books Covers Ltd

Editing by Richard Sheehan

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum