She couldn’t intervene in any way.

  All she could do was watch every painful punch after painful punch.

  But no. As her heart pounded, she realised that wasn’t right. It would be wrong to just back down and let this happen to Steve. Steve had shown that he was a good man. He’d let her in, even when her trust was all out. He’d taught her things. Things about surviving in this world. And more than anything, he’d taught her to have a little faith in people.

  And now he was being beaten.

  She couldn’t let this happen.

  She couldn’t just watch.

  She turned back to the motorhome.

  The first thing she saw dangling from the side of the crumpled door was a hammer.

  She didn’t even think as she reached for it.

  She felt like she was in a dream as she stretched out her hand and grabbed it.

  Then she walked over towards Jacob, his smirking face, his manic eyes.

  His friend, Eric, in the way.

  She pulled it back. She lifted it over her head, as high as she could.

  She saw the pain in Steve’s eyes as he got kicked and punched on the ground.

  She heard Becky’s shouts, the cries of her children.

  And then in her mind, she saw her Alex.

  She brought the hammer down against Eric’s skull.

  Hard.

  She wasn’t sure what happened when she hit him. It felt like everything stopped. Like she’d woken up from a dream.

  But when she looked down, she saw that something had changed significantly.

  Steve had rolled out of the way. He was cut, badly beaten.

  Jacob’s friends had stopped. Their eyes were wide. They were staring down, stone cold.

  And on the ground beneath her, Lily saw the very thing that had cut through the moment completely.

  Eric was lying there in a heap.

  Blood pooled out from his head.

  He was twitching.

  Lily felt dread build up, right in the middle of her chest. She knew what’d happened. She’d killed him. She’d hit him over the head, and she’d killed him.

  She expected the panic to take over and overwhelm her completely.

  But something stopped that from happening.

  The adrenaline pouring through her body.

  “I’ll tell you how things are going to be,” Lily said, voice cracking, with no idea of where these words were coming from. “We’ve got some cans in there and some peanut butter. We might even have a little water. You’re going to take what you’re given, and then you’re going to walk away. You’re going to walk far, far away from here. And if we see you again…”

  Right then, on cue, something beautiful happened.

  Something that had never happened before.

  Beast stepped towards the boys, and he growled.

  They looked at Beast, filled with fear.

  Then they looked at one another.

  “Screw this,” one of them said. “Let’s go!”

  Jacob stood there a few seconds. Looked at Lily. For a moment, it actually looked as if he was smiling.

  Like he wasn’t even that bothered about the death of his friend.

  Like he was just enjoying the violence.

  They turned around and they took off, leaving Eric’s twitching, bleeding body at Lily’s feet.

  She dropped the hammer. It echoed against the ground. All she could hear now were the sounds of her own racing heart, and…

  Crying.

  Aubrey and Clarissa, both crying.

  She wanted to be euphoric. She wanted to be able to be happy that somehow, her and her dog had scared off a pair of utter shits and saved whatever salvageable supplies the motorhome still had left.

  But it wasn’t just Eric’s potentially dead body that blocked any hope of happiness.

  Steve was lying on the road.

  His eyes were closed.

  He was bruised badly, and he was bleeding.

  He wasn’t moving a muscle.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  LILY

  DAY TWO: 9:25 A.M

  Lily stared at Steve’s unconscious body, and she knew she was going to have to do something to help him.

  Even though she was still shaking after what she’d just done.

  She walked over Eric’s fallen body, still unable to process that she’d actually probably just killed someone. The shock. It was impossible to process anything through its lens. Watching Terrance die. Then killing someone else. Fuck. No. Best not to think about it. Not to process it. Not yet.

  Everything around her—Beast, Becky, Aubrey and Clarissa—blurred into the background. Lily knew they were saying things. She could sense words coming out of their mouths. But she didn’t know what they were saying, not exactly.

  The shock had taken a hold, well and truly.

  She’d done what she’d had to do. That’s what she had to keep telling herself. Beyond legalities, beyond anything at all, there was just this deep, primal sense that she’d had no choice.

  Because if she hadn’t done what she’d done… who knows what might have happened?

  That lad. Jacob. He was clearly their leader. And his friends. They’d flipped the motorhome, somehow. They’d brought it crashing to a halt. They’d tried to take it off the road. And for what? All in the name of gathering some supplies.

  Was that really just how cheap human life was already?

  And who was she to talk?

  The sound of his skull as she cracked that hammer against it.

  The taste of his blood, metallic, splashing up and onto her lips.

  She shook. Couldn’t stop shaking. What’d happened. Everything that’d happened…

  She still couldn’t understand it.

  She still couldn’t comprehend it.

  And she wasn’t sure she was ever going to comprehend it.

  This was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare.

  Because shit like this didn’t happen in reality.

  Terrance’s death.

  And what she’d just done to this Eric guy.

  And Alex. Her Alex. Still out there, somewhere…

  But still…

  She had to measure herself. Compose herself. Ground herself. She couldn’t let herself get caught up right now. She couldn’t let herself freeze.

  Because there was something she needed to focus on.

  Something she needed to be present for, right now.

  One thing that mattered.

  Above anything.

  All that mattered was Steve’s unconscious body.

  And what she could do to help him.

  To bring him back from the brink.

  Because he wasn’t in a good way. That much was abundantly clear already.

  She stood over him and she had flashbacks to when Sam had been explaining cardiopulmonary resuscitation, CPR, to her. It’d been one of the first things he’d learned at medical school. She’d been impressed by his knowledge but didn’t really fully take in what he was demonstrating to her. One of those things that you just never think you’ll need.

  She wondered whether what he’d taught her could have saved his life if she’d listened. Or if someone else knew what they were supposed to be doing. He was so thoughtful. He was so selfless. Right to the very end. She missed him. Missed him dearly. She wondered what he’d be saying to her if he were here right now. What advice he would be giving her. He’d be so helpful right now. So grounded.

  But part of her couldn’t shake the image of his wide eyes, staring at her, in disbelief at what she’d just done.

  She thought about her CPR knowledge. She knew it was flimsy. And she knew she should have listened a little bit better.

  But right now, knowing a little was better than not knowing anything at all.

  She knew she was going to have to use what knowledge she had.

  She got down onto her knees and turned Steve further onto his back. His eyes were closed. He was bruised all over. She reached for his pulse, noting that he told her he had a dodgy ticker, and her stomach sank when she couldn’t feel anything. Maybe it was just her shaking hands fingers that were fooling her. Or maybe she just wasn’t checking the guy’s pulse in the correct way. She was hopeless at this. She couldn’t do it.

  And then she heard Sam’s voice whispering in her ear.

  You are strong. You can do this. Believe in yourself, honey.

  The second she heard his whispers she felt a wave of confidence and relief crash over her.

  She felt confidence. Confidence like she hadn’t felt for a long, long time.

  She felt self-belief.

  She knew what she had to do.

  She put the heel of one of her hands on the middle of Steve’s chest, then her right hand on top of that.

  She closed her eyes, focused solely on Steve, and took a deep breath.

  Then she used the weight of her entire upper body to press down on Steve’s chest.

  She kept on pushing, approximately two hard pushes a second. The more she pushed, the harder it got and the weaker her arms became. She heard Aubrey. “What’s she doing?”

  And as she kept on going, she heard Becky respond: “She’s trying to save Daddy, son. She’s doing her best.”

  Lily kept on pushing. She kept on breathing and kept that two-pushes-per-second rate going. She couldn’t remember how long she was supposed to keep pushing before giving up… but no. She couldn’t give up. That wasn’t going to happen. She had to keep going until there was a sign of life.

  But as she kept going then, she realised that Steve wasn’t going to be coming back to life any time soon with this method.

  She had to try something else.

  She tilted his head back then lifted his chin to open his airway. She checked his breathing. She couldn’t hear him breathing. Shit. So it really was going to be chest compressions she continued with. She just wasn’t sure how much more she could keep going.

  She put her hands on his chest and started again. And this time, as she pressed down, she didn’t see Steve, but she saw Sam.

  She saw him looking up at her, reaching out, telling her she had this and everything was going to be okay.

  Believe in yourself, love. You can do this. You’ve got this.

  She kept on compressing, believing that she could bring him back—that she could somehow bring Sam back if she kept on going.

  Then she heard Steve cough.

  He pulled himself upright and Lily’s fantasy of bringing Sam back from the dead were vanquished with the click of a finger.

  But she didn’t care.

  She didn’t care right now because she’d done what she’d been trying to do—and what her mind had been trying to tell her she wasn’t capable of doing.

  “Dad!” Aubrey shouted.

  The children ran over to their dad and hugged him. Becky came over to Lily, put a hand on her shoulder, tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said. “You’re our saviour. Thank you so much.”

  As Lily watched this family reunite, she stood with Beast and let the breeze brush against her. She might’ve just killed someone.

  But she had saved someone’s life.

  She had believed in herself, and she’d saved someone’s life.

  She crouched down and stroked Beast, a lump swelling in her throat.

  She looked into his eyes, and she saw Sam looking back at her, smiling.

  You did good. You did so good.

  She took a deep breath and swallowed a lump in her throat.

  Tears streaming down her face.

  Whatever happened next, she knew that the strength that she’d shown here was going to stay with her, and it was going to get her to her son, no matter what.

  And no matter what she’d done.

  THIRTY-NINE

  BETHANY

  DAY TWO: 9:00 A.M

  Twenty-four hours down and after going to bed with such optimism last night, there was a totally different mood around Dan’s cottage this morning.

  And it was all for one reason.

  Olly.

  It was nice outside, which was something, at least. But Bethany was really picking at straws. There was very little to be optimistic about after the turn of events last night and with what was heading their way.

  Olly had taken her car.

  She’d given him the keys.

  He’d taken whatever supplies he could and driven away.

  He’d abandoned them.

  He’d betrayed them.

  And since she’d given him the keys… that was on her.

  They were in the kitchen sitting around the dining table. Dan looked rough as hell. He hadn’t smiled once, and he’d barely spoken all morning so far. It scared Bethany. She wasn’t used to seeing Dan like this. And especially when she knew how in control he’d seemed to be about this whole situation… the fact that he was losing his grip filled her with anxiety more than anything.

  He was the one who was supposed to know what he was doing. Who was supposed to be in control. Who was supposed to be helping them all get through this. He’d flipped a couple of times already. Crossed a line once or twice. But in a way, she couldn’t blame him. He was dealing with a lot of stress. It was all on his shoulders. And at the end of the day… it wasn’t like he was a tour guide taking them through this world or anything. He was just like them. He just happened to know more than they did, so they found themselves leaning on him more. Trusting him more.

  But it had to be a lot for him, this. It had to be weighing down heavy on his shoulders.

  And it was hard to ignore that ticking time bomb, inching closer.

  One day left.

  Susan was awfully quiet, too. She had a bowl of cereal in front of her, but hadn’t touched it, the grains going soggy in what was left of the milk. She was staring into space. Her eyes looked tired. Bethany felt for her. Sure, she and Olly might be an unusual couple. And Olly had confided in her a little last night about his fears for their relationship. It was an odd conversation. One that Bethany saw through a different light now he’d got up and left. Guilt? Was that what it was? She swore she’d felt something there between her and Olly for a moment. A connection of some kind.

  But was the truth that he was just bracing her for what he was about to do?

  Drive off?

  Leave them all stranded here?

  Susan was quiet. Really quiet. Maybe she and Olly were different. But she was clearly hurt right now. In a sense, she’d lost more than any of them.

  Bethany could feel that lingering urge to call her parents screaming out to her again. But no. She knew it was no use. She was on her own with Dan and Susan now. It was up to them to do what they had to do to survive. Mum and Dad couldn’t help. She wouldn’t be able to get through. And even if she did, what then? What could they do all the way from Santorini?

  It was her, Dan and Susan now.

  It might not be the ideal scenario. It might scare the hell out of Bethany.

  But it was the way things were. She accepted that now.

  She was alone.

  So maybe it was time to accept the change in circumstances that Olly’s disappearance had sparked, too.

  “I know it’s… it’s not good. What happened.”

  Susan looked up at Bethany. Dan kept on staring into space.

  But that urge to talk stayed within.

  That urge to step up.

  To be responsible.

  Just like she needed to.

  “I mean, it’s awful. It’s… it’s a nightmare. No doubt about that. But we have a choice of how we react. We can sit back and let this knock us down. Or we can step up and do what we have to do. There’s still time left. There’s still supplies out there, surely. We’ve been kicked back once, and we’ll probably be kicked back again. But we have to keep on going. We have to. Don’t we?”

  Shit. What was she saying? It didn’t feel like her speaking. But someone had to.

  She saw then that Dan lifted his head, slowly. He looked in her eyes.

  She hoped he would see sense in her words. That he would realise she was just doing her best to raise spirits.

  But in his eyes, Bethany didn’t see understanding.

  She didn’t see sympathy.

  More than anything, she saw annoyance.

  “You gave him the keys,” he said.

  Bethany sighed. “If I’d known⁠—”

  “You gave him the keys, and he took your car and our shit. If you hadn’t given him the keys…”

  Bethany felt her cheeks flaring up. Usually in situations like this, she’d back down, allow herself to be walked over.

  But not this time.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t solely blame me for what happened with Olly.”

  “I’m not solely blaming you,” Dan said.

  “That’s what it sounds like to me.”

  “You gave him the keys, Bethany. So, you played a part. You’re right. It isn’t solely your fault. It’s all our faults for not recognising what was going on with Olly and not doing more to stop him.”

  He looked at Susan.

  Her cheeks flushed. “Are you saying it’s⁠—”

  “Yes,” Dan said. “It’s all our faults.” He looked back at Bethany then. “I just think one of us here struggles more than others to accept responsibility for things. And they need to start taking responsibility for their actions and being more proactive if they want to get anywhere.”

  Bethany went to snap back at Dan again. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t because she knew he was right. She did have to start taking more responsibility for her actions. She did have to start being more proactive. Because this wasn’t about her handing her car keys to Olly. This was about her delegating, falling back on somebody else. She’d been doing it all her life, and she was still doing it now.

  “We all have to have a good look in the mirror and realise something very stark,” Dan said. “And that’s this: if we don’t start taking responsibility, we die. That’s how deep this goes now. That’s the stakes we have to believe we’re dealing with.”

  Bethany didn’t want to believe that was the case. She wanted to believe someone was coming for her, heading to help her, to get her out of all this.