It was nice outside. Sunnier than the boarded-up cottage would have you believe. It was dark downstairs. Dingy. Stuffy, though, too. Humid. It was a good view from up here of the immediate surroundings—the trees, the fields, the mountains in the distance. Mountains they were planning to walk on their trip here. They’d had a nice little trip planned. It was supposed to be a relaxing trip away. A chance to forget the shitshow of recent months and just focus on enjoying herself, with a decent bunch of people.

  It’d gone to shit. Very rapidly.

  But she was still here.

  And she was going to get through this.

  They were all going to get through this. One way or another.

  She looked over at those mountains. The last time she’d visited the Lake District, she was with Stephen. She thought back to that walk they’d been on. The one he promised her was a doddle. Right to the top of some mountain that she couldn’t remember the name of.

  He insisted it would be okay. Even though it was raining. Even though it was lashing it down. He was adamant everything was going to be okay.

  But it soon became clear that it wasn’t going to be okay. Those winds. Felt like a damned hurricane. And just how slippy and uneven the ground was.

  She’d wanted to turn back. So much. She’d wanted to just get out of there. Just leave. Because she wasn’t having fun. Stephen had conned her into climbing the mountain. She wasn’t happy with him. She was going to have his balls for breakfast the next day—and not in a way he’d enjoy.

  But in the end… she remembered sitting there, next to him, cuddled together, soaking, drenched, and she’d found herself enjoying herself. She’d found herself laughing.

  And even though she thought he was an absolute dick for dragging her out to climb that mountain, she couldn’t hate him. Not with the day they’d had. Not with the memories they’d made together.

  Memories that she was always going to treasure.

  Even when things went to shit.

  In some ways, especially when things went to shit.

  She looked at those mountains, and she swallowed a lump in her throat.

  This was her chance to replace her old memories with new ones.

  Erase the pain.

  Reclaim those mountains for her own memories, and not ones tainted by the pain she still felt around Stephen.

  But those mountains weren’t going to be walked. Not anymore. At least not for quite some time.

  Her and the group weren’t going to be going anywhere for a while.

  Not with the people walking up the cottage driveway.

  When Bethany saw them, her stomach sank.

  There were four men. All in their twenties. They looked like they’d been walking quite a while.

  And while there was no crime in them walking toward the cottage, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease about them.

  She’d seen enough chaos between people already in this panicked new world to know that everyone had their own motives and that she’d have to play it carefully if they wanted to get out of this.

  The men stopped and looked right up through the window. There was a pause, just for a few seconds. A moment where total silence prevailed.

  Bethany looked into the eyes of the man in front of the other two blokes, and she waited for him to make a move. She hoped it wouldn’t be a violent move.

  Because she had a bad feeling about this entire situation.

  But something strange happened.

  The man lifted a hand and waved.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’m Jacob. This is Will, Simon and Harry. How’re you guys doing?”

  Bethany’s mouth went dry. Part of her was at least somewhat relieved to hear this man wasn’t a totally aggressive loon.

  But then sometimes aggression came in the most subtle of forms. She couldn’t write him off completely. Not just yet.

  “So me and my friends here have been walking for miles,” Jacob said. “Started up at Grasmere. Stayed around Bowland Bridge last night. Some serious shit going down in the villages. Seen SAS rounding people up. And sure, they tell us they’ve got our best interests at heart. But do you believe them? Really?”

  Nothing but silence in response.

  Jacob smirked and shook his head, then took another few steps closer to the cottage. “Course you don’t. You’ve got a nice cottage here that you’ve solidified awfully well. Like, impressively well. Clearly know what’s coming. Clearly aware shit’s hitting the fan.” He paused. Let that thought hang. He was just making it known that he was onto them. “And if I’m right, I swear I saw that garage stocked with a supply or two not long back. So, hey. It looks like we’re both in luck. If things really do kick off, how about we help you stay alive? Your very own security. And you help keep us fed. How’s that sound?”

  Bethany’s heart raced. She looked at Dan, but then she knew she’d made a commitment to showing an increased level of responsibility. She didn’t want to have to leave it all to him. She didn’t want to fall back on his verdict time and time again.

  “How can you⁠—”

  “No,” Dan said.

  It was sudden and it was cutting. Bethany looked at Dan again. He was focused on the people outside, staring intently into their eyes. She didn’t want him to play this quite so firm. She wanted to try and reach some kind of agreement, not start a bloody fight.

  “You what, mate?” Jacob asked.

  Dan kept his cool. Honestly, Bethany figured they’d be better just agreeing to anything right now. These guys might be able to help. And besides. They did need to stick together, didn’t they?

  But it looked like Dan had other ideas. “I said no. There’s plenty more places. Plenty of cottages like this one. And there’s plenty of supplies out there, too. You’ll have to keep moving. There’s already too many of us here. I’m sorry. It’s not personal.”

  Silence followed. Silence interspersed with birdsong. And in that silence, Bethany felt a growing tension creeping up her body; a sense that Dan had made the wrong move.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” Jacob asked. “We can look out for you. Harry here used to be in the army. Clever bloke.”

  “Then the things he knows will take you all a lot further than the average person,” Dan said. “But you aren’t coming in here. That’s final.”

  Bethany looked at Susan. She looked just as scared as Bethany felt—just as uncertain about Dan’s approach.

  Outside, Jacob turned around to his friends. They chatted quietly amongst one another for a short while, something that made Bethany even more uneasy. Then Jacob turned around and smiled. “No matter how safe you might think you are, you’re never safe enough. Honestly. We’re not trying to be dicks. We just… happen to have an idea what we’re doing. And it looks like you do, too. Which puts us ten steps ahead of everyone else. People like us need to stick together. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Maybe we should think about it,” Bethany whispered.

  “No,” Dan said, firmer now than before. His body was totally rigid as he looked down at these people. “We’re okay. Thanks. But again, it sounds like you know somewhere that could help get you by.”

  Jacob’s face dropped. And for the first time, Bethany sensed an impatience about him, like his mask was slipping. It didn’t help that the guy beside him—the one called Will—looked so uncertain, too. Like he was unsure about his own friend here.

  She remembered what Dan had said about the rocks—they should gather some and bring them inside to ward off anyone trying to get in. Even the old boiling water over the side of the house was going to be a useful trick, apparently, even if it did seem a bit medieval.

  “I don’t like your attitude, mate. Maybe you should let some of your friends here get a word in.”

  “They have,” Dan said. “And they agree with me.”

  “Dan—”

  “You aren’t coming in here.”

  He lifted a rock.

  “If you try to come in here, we’ll do whatever we can to stop you. And trust me. Rocks are the last thing you need to be worried about right now. It’s the things you don’t know about that you should be scared of.”

  Jacob lifted his hands, a long smile on his face. “Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. I mean, I am sorry. Truly. I hoped we’d met a decent bunch of people here; a bunch of people who could help us out. I didn’t know how wrong I was.”

  He stepped back and pulled out a lighter. He put a cigarette in his mouth, lit it and started smoking.

  “I mean, you’ve done a good job of solidifying this cottage of yours. Covered every damn nook and cranny.”

  He took another drag on the cigarette. The lighter was still in his hand.

  “But really. You should never forget just how damn flammable oil tanks are.”

  He dropped the lighter on the ground.

  “And how damned leaky.”

  He ran away then, his friends beside him.

  Bethany didn’t understand what was happening.

  Just that there was a small trail of fire moving from the lighter towards the side of the house, where the oil tank—a big, huge, off-grid oil tank, sat.

  “No!” Dan shouted.

  He ran out of the room.

  “What’s happening?” Susan shouted.

  Dan reached the top of the stairs and threw himself down it. He reached the front door, started moving the things they’d stacked up to it aside. “The tank,” he said. He stopped then, realising he wasn’t going to get out of the front door quickly enough. And then he rushed into the garage. “They must’ve already… It’s gonna blow. We have to stop the flames. We have to⁠—”

  Bethany didn’t totally understand what happened then.

  Just that one second, Dan was rushing towards the back of the garage.

  Then next, an explosion.

  Fire ripped through the side of the cottage.

  Debris flew everywhere, the wall blasting away.

  One large chunk of debris shot towards the side of Dan’s head, knocking him out cold.

  She stood there, Susan by her side, and watched as the flames shot up the sides of the walls and as the smoke began to fill her surroundings—and her lungs.

  The cottage had been breached.

  They were trapped.

  And Dan was down.

  FORTY-FOUR

  LILY

  DAY TWO: 3:00 P.M

  Six hours later and Lily was delighted to be able to say that Steve was back on his feet.

  Which was miraculous to say the least.

  The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Which didn’t help the mood. Made everything feel a whole lot more ominous. Rain lashed down heavily, drenching all of them. The back of Lily’s right foot was chafing through a combination of dampness, sweat and all this walking. She had no doubt that a nasty blister was going to form there very soon. One to rival the blister she’d got back in London a few summers ago. That one was a shocker. All started because she was walking along in the summer heat, and then stopped for a bit to take a rest. When she went to stand up… the worst damned blister. Right between her big toe and her second toe.

  And then, after a good distance of trying to walk on it, trying to stop causing herself too much pain… it burst.

  The pain of the burst was horrible. Intense. Strong. Like someone was stabbing the middle of her foot with a long, hot, sharp knife.

  And the worst thing?

  She had to start walking again.

  And that walk… it was painful, and it was difficult, and it was borderline impossible.

  But she’d got through it.

  She’d made it.

  And even though it was just a blister, it was the most painful blister she’d ever had.

  She felt her foot chafing. She could really do without another blister.

  But it’d take more than a blister to stop her now.

  There was a strange silence to the group. And that was because time was running out. As the sun lowered, there was a real sense that this was the last afternoon of the world between—the pink matter after the CME and before the real blackout. The world before being the world with electricity in abundance… and the world after being the CME-struck existence, where not even battery-powered things worked. The clock was ticking. They were in limbo.

  Lily just hoped she managed to find her son before the lights went out completely.

  There was the shit that had just unfolded, too. Eric. That lad.

  She’d killed him.

  She’d beaten him to death.

  She had killed someone.

  She was pretty sure she’d killed him, anyway. And if she hadn’t, she’d left him for dead at the very least.

  And she knew she wasn’t going to be able to close her eyes at night and not think about what she’d done.

  She was a killer.

  She was a monster.

  She needed to turn herself in.

  And…

  And she would.

  When she got through this.

  When she found Alex.

  When she knew he was okay.

  When everything got right again.

  She was going to turn herself in, and everything was going to be okay.

  She would pay for her crimes. For what she’d done.

  Just as long as she knew Alex was okay, and just as long as she knew this family were okay, too… and Beast—maybe this family would be a good one to look after Beast—then everything was going to be okay.

  That’s what she had to keep on telling herself.

  She just had to hope that somehow, by some miracle, her son was waiting for her and that she was going to find him and that everything was going to be okay.

  And she just had to hope that the thought of what she’d done to Eric wouldn’t rear its ugly head and tear her apart completely…

  Because there was only so long she was going to be able to compartmentalise that truth, that was for sure.

  Only so long she was going to be able to keep it buried.

  Stop it from bubbling over the surface completely.

  She looked to her left and saw Becky walking there. She was focused on Aubrey, who was holding hands with his sister, not a care in the world. She could tell Becky was troubled.

  “Hey,” Lily said, swallowing her uncertainty and just going for it.

  It took Becky a few seconds to realise Lily was addressing her. “Oh,” she said. “Hey. Sorry. I was miles away.”

  Once again, she looked at Aubrey, grief in her tearful eyes.

  Lily felt seriously bad for her. Once upon a time, she might’ve chosen not to intrude; to let this go instead.

  But not right now.

  She wasn’t letting anything just go again, not when she knew someone could be suffering.

  “Whatever happens,” Lily said. “When the power goes out. I’ll be here for you. We’ll all be here for each other. You understand?”

  Becky looked back at her, eyes glazed. She smiled a little, then sniffed. “I just feel awful knowing what I know and not being able to tell him.”

  “You shouldn’t tell him,” Lily said. “I know it’s the hardest thing in the world to contemplate, but you shouldn’t make him suffer unnecessarily. Look at him. He’s happy. Isn’t that all we want, really? To be happy?”

  Becky turned back to her son and smiled as he looked back at her and gave her a cheeky little wave.

  “It just breaks my heart. The thought that he might…”

  Lily put a hand on her back. “But he might not. You said it yourself, remember? Nobody knows just how much this solar event will affect things. And as impossible as it is, we should try not to speculate because speculating only leads us to wallowing in what might be. But it might not be. It doesn’t have to be. So you be strong for him, and I’ll be strong for you. I owe so much to you for heading to Ambleside and helping me find my son. I owe everything to you for making me into the person I am even though I’ve barely known you a day. But I thank you. My dog thanks you. And my boy will thank you too.”

  Becky looked right into Lily’s eyes. “I wish I was as strong as you are.”

  Lily felt a surge of energy when Becky said those words. If there was one thing she’d never thought herself to be, it was strong.

  Maybe she was after all.

  Maybe she was way, way stronger than she’d ever believed.

  “Hell. Look at that.”

  A sense of dread came over Lily when she heard Steve’s voice. After all, nobody ever said a thing like “look at that” if it was a positive these days.

  But when Lily saw what Steve was drawing attention to, she stopped right in her tracks.

  The northern lights were visible in the afternoon sky, which had cleared right above them. They were a strong, bright green, even greener than they looked on the online clips she saw of Iceland and places like that.

  She looked up at them in all their beauty and she got tears in her eyes. For this was beautiful. In all the harshness of this new world—and in spite of everything that had happened—she couldn’t look past the sheer beauty of this moment.

  She’d killed someone. She was sure of it. And perhaps worse than that, she’d left him there all alone on the road. He was just a lad, too. And she couldn’t fight the guilt she felt over what she’d done. She had no doubt that guilt would catch up with her eventually.

  But right now, she was sure of just one thing. She’d made the right call in that moment. And it was a call she’d make again in a heartbeat.

  Then, she saw the birds.

  A whole crowd of them flew past, blocking out the view of the northern lights. And as they watched and listened to them flock past, specks of shit bulletting down to the ground below, Lily knew something truly bizarre was happening. Not that she was ever really in any doubt, but seeing the natural elements working in such a way—even the birds unsettled about what was happening, about what was coming—it just brought home the gravity of the situation.

  “We need to keep moving,” Steve said, as if he hadn’t almost died at all just a matter of hours ago. “We’re getting close.”

  And as they started moving, Lily looked up at those birds and she thought about her son.

  Wherever he was, she hoped he was okay.