The ground had begun to soften, being replaced with grass and mud, and the path flattered and eventually declined sharply as they made their way to the lighthouse entrance, which was protected by a small walled garden. A light burned within the ground floor and the group of fifteen eagerly moved into the modest sized, square room, with its fire burning in the hearth, two armchairs, some bookshelves, and on the other side some cupboards full of nets, ropes and other items including a small desk with a two-way radio set.

  The old man slammed the door closed, turning around to those in the cramped space. “Get the kids near the fire.” He looked at Tom. “Take those that fell in, upstairs to the spare room and find them new clothes, then bring them down here and get them in front of the heat with the others… And bring some blankets for the little ones.” He turned to the group. “I’m sure you have all come a long way to be here, and probably have a lot of questions, which I’m happy to answer, but right now, I suggest you get some coffee inside you, and we…” The small dark-haired child was scratching out some shapes on the tiles in front of the fire with a piece of coal. “And we have plenty of food, which I’ll bring downstairs. But right now. Get warm!” He started to move away when Liz hobbled forward and threw her arms around him, somewhat startling the older man. “Oh. You’re okay now, lass.”

  Joe moved to his wife, laying a hand on her shoulder, which she then used to support herself, while he offered his other hand to the lighthouse keeper. “You saved us. And We’ll be forever grateful for that, but I need to get a message to whoever is in charge of the camp on the main island. Are you in communication with them?”

  Lauren looked concerned. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Joe. They will probably be monitoring comms.”

  Donald looked confused. “They? Who are ‘they?’”

  “The military on the mainland,” replied Joe. “I know this sounds crazy, but they want to attack the camp on the larger island. They might already have done.”

  Donald did not seem shocked. He nodded, scratching his stubbly chin. “That was how things were going with them.”

  “So you already know they are hostile to us?”

  “Sure, yes. Fin thought—”

  “Fin?”

  “Finley Baird. He’s the one that got the camps going. He’s been trying to negotiate with those foreigners for the past few days. Asked them to give us supplies, but yesterday morning they stopped talking to us. Fin said we should expect bad things.”

  Joe nodded. “I need to talk to this, Fin. There’s a lot he’s going to want to hear.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LIZ

  Liz looked at the droplets on the window from across the small room, which was located on the second floor of the four-story tower. The howling wind hinted that out there in the darkness was danger. That the undead walked across the bramble and grass, like they did every other inch of this land.

  Joe, who was sitting back, lower down the single bed, against the white plastered wall, had his eyes closed. She had no idea if he was asleep, but if he was, he deserved it. In the other single bed, the one on the opposite wall below the deep set window was Tia, definitely asleep, while Hope, was on the floor, sitting on a rug, drawing in a notepad. Beside her, her mug of tea had grown cold, not touched.

  An antique barometer was on the wall near the window, which in the candlelight proclaimed stormy weather, while above Liz’s bed was a painting of cliffs and the sea in sunnier times.

  She had a feeling the interior hadn’t changed for a hundred years. A signal of something which had endured, despite what nature had thrown at it.

  Suddenly she felt dizzy. The enormity of what had befallen her and everyone else over the last week piling up within her mind. Images of death came and went, bringing with them waves of guilt and grief.

  She sat up, gasping for air.

  Joe’s hand landed on hers, which was clammy. “Hey? You okay?”

  She swallowed, then reached for the cup of water from the small table near the bed, taking a few mouthfuls. “Just… had a moment.” She offered her husband a smile. “I’m okay,” then looked towards Tia. “We’re okay. I… well, I hardly had time to think about it, but there was always this doubt that we couldn’t get here. And now we are…”

  Joe nodded with a smile. “The whole population becoming zombies is more than a doubt… but we did make it, and in the morning if the weather’s better, Donald and Tom will take us all across the strait to the main island, and we will see the camp, which as I understand is spread across the island, but with a main part on the far side of island, near where some caves are situated.”

  “Did he say how people are getting on? Have they had any problems with… the undead on the island?”

  “I didn’t get into it. Too tired.” He leaned forward, giving Liz a brief hug then found a spot near the wall alongside her, and closed his eyes. “He said he’ll wake me if he’s able to contact the camp, but the storm’s disrupting the radio signal, so it might not be until the morning.”

  “What about the plane that took off from the airport? They were coming here to attack the place?”

  Joe’s eyes remained closed. “He told me it crashed on the other island. No survivors. I guess…” He sighed. “Callum and I damaged it more than we thought. Donald said it was the last message he got from the main island, before the doister—”

  “Doister?”

  “It’s what they call the storm. He’s not heard from them since then. There’s nothing we can do about that right now.” He turned over, facing the wall. “Try and get some sleep. Big day tomorrow…”

  It wasn’t long before her husband’s breathing deepened and another member of her family was asleep. But not so her. Memories were clinging to her thoughts, not allowing her mind to let go.

  Being careful not to shake the bed too much, she swung her leg to the floor, grabbed the walking cane and stood, then shuffled across the room, the child on the floor not paying her any attention. She lifted the latch on the door and moved into the narrow stairwell, and awkwardly moved down the steps, passing the first room where Mavis, Owen, Ember, Martin and the baby were, to the door on the ground floor. Voices could be heard through it, which she opened slowly, immediately feeling the warmth.

  Clara, Grace, Lauren and Baldwin were seated around the fire, blankets over their shoulders.

  Grace was holding a bottle which she lifted on seeing Liz. “There she is! The one legged wonder! Join us!”

  “Sshh,” said Baldwin who then got up to close the door behind Liz and offered to help but whom Liz waved away.

  Clara giggled.

  Liz, this time accepting Baldwin’s help, sat on the rug to Grace’s right, the last spot near the fire which was still burning, albeit less intensely. Baldwin then handed her a blanket which Liz pulled around her shoulders.

  All four women looked into the dying flames, lost in their own thoughts.

  “How’s Tia?” said Lauren, who seemed the most sober of the group.

  Liz smiled. “Sleeping.”

  Lauren nodded. “That’s good…” She looked back at the fire as more moments of silence passed before Liz spoke again.

  “You would think after today, I would have knocked out, but… Joe is sleeping, but me—”

  “I shot him.”

  Everyone looked at Clara, including Liz. “Joe’s sleeping. Nobody shot—”

  “Argo…”

  Grace passed Clara the bottle, which Clara took a brief swig from and held onto. The other three women looked at each other, not knowing who Argo was.

  Clara continued. “He… was my boyfriend. He… sold us out to some… London Gangster, called Swanson.” She looked at Grace, both women with tears in their eyes. “He wanted me to leave with him. He…” Her words tumbled into sobs, before she sniffed and took another mouthful of the golden liquid, then handed it back to Grace.

  “I’ll take some,” said Liz. The almost empty bottle passed to her, where she let a small amount of the liquid cascade into her throat, tracking the warmth to her stomach. She smiled and handed it back to the doctor. “Joe told me the plane crashed. The camp is still safe from the orange suits.”

  Baldwin nodded. “The airport is overrun. Which means they will need to launch an assault from their ships. Which gives us some time.”

  “To do what?” said Grace.

  “We have the girl,” said Lauren. “They won’t risk her being hurt by an all out assault. They will try to negotiate first. We can expect that soon. When that fails—”

  “Why would it fail?” said Grace. “We give them the child, and they leave this island alone.”

  “Have you forgotten the whole, nuke the entire country thing?”

  “It’s finished! It’s not coming back! Let them destroy the entire place, but here, on these small islands, we’ll be safe!”

  “We wouldn’t be safe from the fallout.”

  Liz did her best to stop herself from laughing due to the thought that had popped into her mind, instead her amusement expressed itself as a snort. “Radiative zombies!” she shouted, then burst out laughing, as did the others until Grace put her finger to her lips, making an attempt to stifle the sound.

  The room fell back into silence, the smiles dissolving until emotion spilled from Liz. Her top lip trembled, tears running down her face. She looked across the four women. “I just want it to be over…”

  Grace leaned closer to her, placing her arm around Liz’s shoulder and hugged her. “We all do.”

  Liz went to take another sip from the bottle but found it to be empty.

  Grace started to get up. “The old bastard has more of them over there. Said they were gifts from those that made it here.” She waved a little. “Oh…” Then sat back down again.

  Lauren got to her feet. “I’ll get it.”

  As each woman contemplated the future, another gust of wind battered the windows with rain.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JOE

  Joe awoke with a start, immediately feeling the warmth of his wife next to him as well as the heat of the sun on his face. The storm had gone, instead the view from the bed through the four panels of thick glass in the window was an intense blue, with no clouds to be seen.

  He tilted his head a little, observing that Tia was asleep still, but Hope was not where he left her on the rug. Turning to look at the rest of the room, his anxiety began to grow on not seeing her there either, and trying not to wake his wife, crawled down the bed and got out of it at the bottom, placing his feet back into his boots then quietly pulled the door open to the stairwell and stepped into it.

  He started to descend but stopped, his instincts as well as a cool breeze telling him to go up which he awkwardly did, soreness across his limbs making itself known as he placed one boot in front of the other, moving past the fourth floor, where he heard the voice of the old lighthouse keeper, seemingly talking to himself, as there were no replies.

  Joe climbed higher, peering into the circular room, where he relaxed a little, seeing the little girl standing outside the curved wall of glass, on the walkway which encircled it. For a moment he remained on the small set of stairs, observing the little girl who was apparently listening to the older man as he spoke of his life in the forgotten corner of these islands, and it struck him how she looked completely human. No indication of the alter-ego which killed the teenage hacker.

  He rose higher, moving onto the same level as the two outside, and his mouth fell open at the spectacle which filled the ocean below the cliffs.

  He slowly opened the door to the outside, buffeted by the wind, not being able to take his eyes off the hundreds of boats and ships which smothered the sea, surrounding this part of the coast of the small island.

  “Ah, there’s your pa.” said Donald who nodded towards Joe then looked back to the child. “Doesn’t say much does she? But she’s a good listener, which means she would make a great lighthouse keeper!” The old man’s expression changed, recognising Joe’s wonderment. He turned to the sea. “Aye, it’s something to behold. As a lighthouse keeper my job was always to warn the ships away, but… well, that changed, and it became my job to bring them here. It’s the same, surrounding the large island. Even more ended up there.”

  “How… many people?”

  Donald blew out his cheeks, rubbing his chin. “Tom reckons it be over twenty-thousand, by ship and air.”

  “Air?”

  “Aye, quite a few used helicopters and they created a landing strip for some of those light planes. You know, the ones that sound like an insect.”

  Joe nodded, still looking at the forest of masts and hulls, some of which were broken, partially submerged. Between the steel ships, of which a few were tankers, were large luxury yachts then motorboats, sailboats and smaller vessels, similar to the one Joe came to the island on.

  “I’m glad you’re awake. I relaid your message to those on the big island. Fin said he wanted to talk to you as soon as you’re rested. Have you eaten?”

  Joe shook his head.

  “Right, let’s change that, and I’ll make some for the little one, too.”

  “Um, she… doesn’t eat in the morning…”

  “Oh… well, let’s get breakfast started anyway, and while I’m doing that, you can contact the main island.”

  Joe nodded then picked Hope up and the three of them descended back into the tower, moving past the upper floors.

  “So who is this, Finley? What did he do before?”

  “Fin? He was the headmaster at the small school on the main island.”

  They arrived at the lowest point in the tower, where conversation could be heard and Joe could smell the coffee and fried sausages before the door to the single room was opened. Lauren was across the other side of the black stone floor, standing over a small hotplate where the pork meat product was sizzling with some oil.

  She looked back as the three of them entered. “Morning, Joe.” She waved at Hope, who smiled in reply, an expression that caught Joe off-guard, then quickly pretended it was normal.

  Donald waved at the back corner, near one of the windows and the small desk and ham radio set that were there. “Take a seat. It’s already at the right frequency. Just ask for Fin and say you’re calling from “Giant’s peak.” Joe stepped over the blankets and pillows on the floor, then looked back at Lauren. “Where’s the others?”

  “Nell’s out with Tom. They’ve gone back to the beach to see if it’s possible to rescue any of the supplies from our boat, as the tides out, and most of the boat is above the waterline. Grace is upstairs in one of the room’s sleeping, and Clara went out for a walk. Liz not awake?”

  Joe snorted as he sat in the wooden chair. “I smelled her breath. I think she’ll be asleep for a while.”

  “Sausage with coffee?”

  Joe smiled. “That sounds perfect.” He looked at the radio set, picking up the hand mike and depressed the button on it. “This is Joe Halter, from Giant’s Peak, looking to talk to Fin? Over.”

  There was a brief moment of white noise then a female voice came through the rusting speaker. “This is Whiting Bay. We hear you, Joe. Fin’s out at the crash site, but he’ll be back within the hour and I’ll let him know you got in touch. Over.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  CLARA

  Clara stood on the craggy peak and looked out across the ocean, spanning most of the compass directions, including the area of aquamarine coloured sea between the small island she was on and the much larger one a mile off, which contained so many sea faring vessels it looked as if it was possible to walk from one island to the other without getting wet. To the east, the coast of Scotland was just visible and to the west the larger island, which even from the distance she was, she could see a landscape covered with tents, large and small, and vehicles moving along country lanes. Further afield, perhaps halfway across the island, smoke billowed into an otherwise clear sky, maybe from the remains of the C-130 which she saw take off the night before. Donald had informed them all that it had crashed and a small cheer erupted across the group.

  She held her hands to the sky, almost feeling as if she could touch it, so high was the point she was standing at, then closed her eyes and took in a lungful of air, which smelled sweat from the small white flowers which surrounded her amongst the bracken, and rough tufts of grass. For a moment she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was heaven. Where there were no dead, only those that still lived, still flourishing. If the devastated cities across the country could be rebuilt, it would be this place, in the outer reaches where the comeback would begin. And in that moment as she stood against the wind, and felt the sun on her face, she felt it was possible. Anything was.

  She opened her eyes and lowered herself to sit on the small outcrop, then let her hands fall upon its rough surface, fascinated by the scene on the larger island, their destination. It certainly looked like salvation from her elevated position.

  She took a chocolate bar from her jacket pocket, unwrapped it and begun to answer her rumbling stomach.

  Despite the lingering pains across her body, she somehow felt lighter, stronger, and she knew the reason wasn’t the lifeform that had plucked her from death’s door, but rather the honesty that she had shared with the other women. It was true that only Grace had known her former partner, but she needed the truth to out. Regardless of what people would say or think of a woman who killed her boyfriend, she didn’t care. She did what she had to at the time. In some ways, Argo did too. A conflict that could only be resolved one way.

  The end of the world had made everyone murderers and she had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last time she would be in a similar situation. The old rules were gone. Replaced with things that tore you apart. Made you like them. And people would do anything to avoid that.

  She sighed, closing her eyes once more, enjoying the sound of the wind.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BALDWIN