Another silence.

  Then, “I killed someone once.”

  Jordanna’s body froze. Her chest tightened. “You—”

  “My landlord. She killed my Ollie. My dog. Fourteen years I had him. And she killed him. All ’cause I wasn’t her idea of a good tenant. So I took a knife and I killed her.”

  Jordanna’s temples throbbed. Her mind spun.

  James was a killer.

  No.

  That wasn’t possible. It wasn’t the James she knew.

  The James she thought she knew.

  “The end of the world arrived not long after. Fortunate, really. Fortunate. But I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t regret killing Miss Bates. I don’t regret it one bit. It’s one of the few damned things I don’t regret. ’Cause she took my Ollie away. She took my baby away…”

  His voice croaked off. He went quiet. Sniffed up what must’ve been tears.

  And Jordanna saw it then. She saw her fate clear.

  There was no way out.

  James wanted his revenge, and he was going to get his revenge.

  This was what true vengeance must feel like.

  This was what true determination to punish someone for taking something away from you must feel like.

  “James, I—”

  The car came to a sudden halt.

  Jordanna flew to the right. Hit the back of the front seats. The car was still. The engine was still running.

  “James?”

  Then the engine stopped.

  The front door opened.

  Slammed shut.

  James’ footsteps walked around to the back of the car.

  Jordanna’s heart pounded. She struggled against the ties. Struggled against the bind holding her down on this back seat.

  But she couldn’t break out.

  She couldn’t break free.

  He was going to get her.

  He was going to kill her.

  The back door opened.

  “James, please don’t—”

  “Shut up,” James said.

  He leaned over as Jordanna continued to struggle. Sliced away some of the rope. And Jordanna didn’t understand. She didn’t understand as James pulled her out of the car. As he slammed the back door shut, dragged her to her feet, the ties on the wrist still tight and sore.

  “Get up. Walk.”

  Jordanna stared at James. She didn’t understand.

  But it was the first time she’d seen the pistol in his hand.

  “I don’t—”

  “Walk,” James said.

  Jordanna was still for a few moments.

  Then she took in the deepest breath she could, admittedly not a very deep one.

  She walked around the side of the car.

  She expected to see her grave. Expected to see the place of her death.

  Instead, she saw the reason they’d stopped.

  The reason they’d got out of the car.

  They were on a bridge. Only it was filled with cars. Cars, all blocking their route across. And the thick trees around the side of it were too vast for a car to manoeuvre past. In the distance, Jordanna saw hills. A telegraph pole stretching into the sky.

  Jordanna felt sharp metal right in the curve of her spine. “We need to clear the bridge. We’re almost there,” James said. “Walk.”

  She waited a few seconds.

  Stared down into the dark, vast trees.

  And then she took a step.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cody didn’t have a clue where he was.

  It was dark. But he wasn’t sure whether that was just from his blindfold or from the night sky beyond, too. He didn’t know if it’d even be completely dark yet. Just had an idea. A general sense that it should be based on how long he’d been out here, how long he’d been walking.

  Then again, he wasn’t even sure how long that was either.

  Only that his ankle was hurting again.

  He heard voices. Muffled voices of his captors. He didn’t know how many of them there were. Not exactly. He’d seen four of them when they’d surrounded the boat. But it felt like there were more of them now, more of them now he was embedded in darkness.

  Maybe that was just a trick of the mind, too.

  He could taste blood on his tongue and he knew he’d been biting his lips again. Not a lot else he could do underneath a gag. He could feel cool air brushing against his jacket, so he knew he was still outside. Solid ground beneath his feet, so possibly still beside the canal. Or on a road somewhere.

  He didn’t know.

  Truth was, Cody was clutching at fucking straws.

  If there’s one thing Cody did know, it’s that they were heading back in the direction of the Manchester Living Zone.

  He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so certain. He knew they’d started off heading in that direction. But perhaps the biggest pointer was these people. The people with the CoY marking cut into their skin. He’d seen people like them before. Seen them in the woods. Seen them launching ill-fated attacks against the MLZ.

  He’d seen the markings they cut into the butchered bodies of their victims, heard rumours of their torture, and he was sure for that reason of one thing: they wanted the MLZ.

  But how would they react if they knew the MLZ had fallen?

  As soon as Cody had the thought, he felt something press against his chest and stopped.

  Someone kicked the back of his thighs. He fell to the ground. Kneeled right away.

  And then someone grabbed the sides of his head. Ripped the blindfold away, ripped the gag away, taking a bit of his skin under their long, sharp fingernails in the process.

  Usually, when you’ve been blindfolded long enough, it takes the eyes a while to adjust to the light.

  Cody didn’t have that problem.

  It was pitch black.

  A sense of dread overwhelmed him. He was in some kind of forest. The only light came from the moon. Not red, thankfully. Not red right now.

  He looked around for Hassan. Looked around to see where they’d taken him. But he didn’t see him. All he saw were figures. Figures around him. Four. Five, maybe. But it felt like more. Felt like twice as many.

  “Got nothing to say now, wise man? Nothing to say at all?”

  The voice came from directly behind Cody. Made him jump. He didn’t know anyone was there, especially not so close. But he could feel the speaker’s warm, sour breath on the back of his neck. It made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

  “I—”

  “You had plenty to say back at the boat, hmm?” Another voice. This one directly to his right. “Plenty to say about us leaving you alone. About going our separate ways. Not got any begging to do now, hmm?”

  Cody closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths and tried to compose himself. But it was the unexpected that terrified him. The knowledge that these people wouldn’t hold back. Especially not when they had a point to prove.

  He thought about begging. About telling them to leave him alone. But he knew that’s exactly what they wanted. “I can’t offer you a thing.”

  Someone laughed. Someone to the front, just to the left. Cody flinched. Looked right in the direction of that voice. And then he heard another laugh on his right. And all of a sudden the laughs were surrounding him, suffocating him.

  “No you can offer us something, friend. You can offer us something very important.”

  Cody heard that voice behind him again. The voice with authority. The one that sounded like a leader.

  He turned around. Tried to look at him.

  All he saw was darkness.

  “You’ll lie when we ask you our next questions,” the man said. “I can guarantee you’ll lie. But you won’t for long. Not if you value your life. Not if you value your friend’s life.”

  His friend’s life?

  He heard something in front of him. Heard a rustling in the grass. A struggling.

  When he turned around, he saw Hassan lying face flat ahead of him.

  The man behind him was shining a torch down at him. There was fear in Hassan’s eyes. Fear and pain.

  His forehead was bruised and bleeding.

  His hands were tied behind his back. So too were his feet.

  “Hassan,” Cody muttered. He tried to move, but someone pulled him back. He wanted to go up there. Wanted to help Hassan. He needed to help Hassan. That’s just what he had to do. Hassan had helped him, so he owed him in return.

  Someone pulled Hassan’s left arm out. Placed it across a flat tree stump. Cody saw Hassan struggling. Trying to curl his fingers in. Trying not to expose a limb.

  And when James saw the bloodied machete in the man’s hand, he knew why right away.

  “You’ll learn to be honest,” the man behind Cody muttered. “I promise you that much.”

  The man holding the machete lifted it into the air.

  Hassan screamed beneath his gag.

  “So how about we start being honest right about now?”

  The machete came down across Hassan’s fingers.

  Cracked against the tree stump his hand rested on.

  Hassan screamed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “You got it?”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Are you sure you’ve—”

  “Look, James. I’ve got it, okay? And don’t worry. I’m not going to accidentally crush you. Now on three. One, two, three.”

  Jordanna pressed all her weight against the Nissan Micra. Her arms were sore from the amount of cars the pair of them had moved out from the bridge already. Her leg and cut hand didn’t feel too great, either. It was dark now. Jordanna had been fearful of the dark. Wary of its onslaught.

  But somehow, she felt okay about it now.

  Because she felt like her and James were getting somewhere.

  “Jesus. They’re heavier than they look.”

  James didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh or even acknowledge Jordanna’s words. He just kept on watching her. Kept on watching her with that pistol in hand.

  Jordanna knew he feared her. She knew he suspected she’d just get up and flee whenever the right moment struck.

  But the last thing she wanted was a bullet in the back.

  The last thing she wanted was to be lost in the dark.

  “How many more?”

  “Another couple.”

  “We should be careful. I can check the side of the bridge for—”

  “Another couple,” James said.

  He walked on. Walked over to the next vehicle parked across the bridge. The blockade preventing them from progressing onwards.

  Jordanna shrugged. Her hands stung like mad. The smell of stale exhaust fumes lingered on her chest. “Whatever you say, captain.”

  Again, James didn’t acknowledge Jordanna. He didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh.

  He just kept watching.

  Kept on holding that gun.

  They moved up to the next car. Jordanna thought about running every time James turned around. Maybe she was stupid not to have run. Maybe she was an idiot.

  But again, that desire to survive this welled up inside. And survival didn’t just mean her survival. It meant James’, too.

  She could win him round.

  They could leave this place together.

  They didn’t have to kill each other. Destroy what was left of their dwindling excuse for a group.

  James stopped beside the next car. A Toyota Yaris. Black.

  He stared in through the back windows.

  It was only when Jordanna stepped beside him that she saw it too. Saw it in the dim glow of the moonlight.

  There was a child’s seat in the back. Pink. Copies of children’s books scattered across the back seat. An unfinished colouring book lying half open to the seat’s side.

  The seat was covered in blood.

  Jordanna put a hand on James’ shoulder. He flinched at first. And then he let it rest there. Let Jordanna hold her hand there and feel his heart beating fast. Feel his shaking. His unsteady breathing.

  “Come on,” Jordanna said. She patted James on his shoulder. “Let’s get this moved.”

  They moved the next car. This one was even trickier. Not just from a physical perspective, but from a mental one too. The knowledge that a kid had died in the back of this car. The knowledge that they might well be out there somewhere, living an afterlife they never dreamed of, an afterlife they’d never understand.

  Jordanna prayed for the sake of the children that someone put them out of their misery before they had a chance to turn.

  She looked up to see James staring at her.

  His gaze was different this time. The anger and suspicion had gone. Instead, there was a softness. Something familiar about it, like the James she used to know. The James who wouldn’t hurt a soul.

  “What?” Jordanna asked.

  He blinked. Turned away. Like he hadn’t even realised he was staring.

  “No, go on. What is it?”

  James looked back at Jordanna. The gun hung loosely from his right hand. “Why haven’t you run?”

  Jordanna felt the weight of James’ question. Why hadn’t she run? It was a good question. A perfectly reasonable question she’d spent enough time asking herself.

  She cleared her throat. Forced the best smile she could. “I’ve not run because I shouldn’t have to. We’re friends. I shouldn’t have to run away from a friend.”

  She thought she saw a spark in James’ eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight. An illusion. But she didn’t think so. She swore she saw something.

  And then she heard the groans and any other emotion she’d felt drifted away into the background.

  They were coming from behind. Coming from the rear of the car. Jordanna couldn’t see them yet, but they were getting closer.

  Jordanna started running. “Need to get back.”

  “It’s not clear enough.”

  “James, it’s clear enough. We need to get back to the car. Right now.”

  He stared at Jordanna as the echoes of the undead filled the night. Stared at her with that look of curiosity once more. That look of humanity.

  “Come on!”

  James took a second.

  Then he nodded.

  Ran alongside Jordanna.

  They kept their eyes off the oncoming crowd of undead. They just focused on the car. Hurtled back towards it. But as Jordanna ran by James’ side, her hands still free of the ties, she couldn’t deny the freedom she felt.

  Freedom in James’ company.

  She could never have imagined that even a few moments ago.

  It was progress.

  They reached the car. James opened the driver’s door. Jordanna chanced the passenger door.

  She saw him lift his gun. Saw him start to point it.

  Then he lowered it. Nodded.

  Jordanna got into the passenger seat. Slammed the door shut. Behind, she saw the figures in the rear-view mirror. Saw them getting closer, edging further towards them.

  “Thank you,” Jordanna said.

  James turned the key. Started up the engine. Shifted the car into gear and drove. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  But Jordanna could see the light rising now. She could see the humanity in James. And she knew he’d seen it in her, too. She knew this wasn’t going to end in a bloodbath. It was going to end positively. For both of them.

  They reached the edge of the bridge and the car stopped.

  Jordanna looked at James. He stared ahead into the distance.

  “James?”

  He turned the key again. Tried to start up the car.

  The engine spluttered.

  Nothing happened.

  They sat there. Sat completely still in the car. The marching figures drifted closer towards them. Movement even more prominent in the rear-view mirror.

  “What’re we gonna do?” Jordanna asked.

  Once again, James didn’t answer.

  But this time, Jordanna knew it was for a different reason.

  He didn’t have an answer.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hassan gritted his teeth as blood poured from the stumps where his fingers once rested.

  He clenched his eyelids together, bringing total darkness. It was already dark outside, but now it felt even blacker, even thicker, even more intense. He could hear talking. Hear voices. He could even hear punches against his back. Could hear people pulling at his hair, nigh on yanking it from his scalp.

  But he just kept on clenching his eyelids together.

  Kept on biting down on his tongue.

  Because the pain in his left hand was electrifying. Sickening.

  It was a while before he chanced a look across the grass of the forest—or whatever it was—they were in. He saw the figures. Saw three of them standing behind Cody. And although it was dark, although it was jet black, he could see from the look in Cody’s eyes that he was a state. He could see by the terrified way Cody was looking at him that he understood Hassan’s fate.

  He was going to die in these woods.

  They were both going to die in these woods.

  He felt a sharp pain stab through his left hand and he yelped. A bolt. Like a bolt of electricity. Reminded him of when he’d been putting the Christmas tree up for his sister, Rani. He’d told her it was disrespectful in the name of Allah to erect a Christmas tree. But Rani had never been religious. She’d always been the rebel of the family. Besides, she loved family events. Any excuse to get the family all around her place and she’d take it, regardless of what god it was in the name of.

  He missed his big sister.

  He wished she was here right now.

  “Hey. Look at me. Fucking look at me.”

  Although Hassan heard the voice, he didn’t look at the speaker. Not at first. He looked down at his left hand. The hand where the pain came from.

  It was bleeding on the back now. There was a deep, dark hole in it that he could barely make out in the bright moonlight.

  A hole in the hand to join his missing four fingers.

  The taste of vomit seeped up his throat.

  A crack. A crack against the side of his head.

  Someone grabbed his hair again. Yanked his head up. Looked him in the eye.

  “I’m speaking to you,” the man said. “Did nobody ever tell you it’s rude to ignore someone speaking to you?”