Or at least, the place where her belly once was.

  Where her baby once was.

  Riley fell to the ground.

  Fell to the ground and stared at the body beneath him.

  The body of a friend.

  The body of Tamara.

  As Riley cried, as he tried to pull himself back together, as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was going to do, the bright light of the red moon cast a sinister glow over the Manchester Living Zone.

  THEY TASTED blood on their lips and walked away from the alleyway.

  Walked into the red light.

  EPISODE THIRTY-TWO

  BREACH

  (SECOND EPISODE OF SEASON SIX)

  Three months ago…

  “SO, James. Is this where you take all the ladies in your life?”

  James smiled as he looked over at the still reservoir. The afternoon sun shimmered on the water, summer rapidly approaching. The grass had grown high around the pathway after months without attention. The steps on the bridge overlooking the reservoir had been destroyed by something or other, bashed to debris, which just made the ascent of the bridge even trickier.

  Which was perfect. Because it meant James and Tamara might just get some private time together.

  He looked at her. Looked at her sitting there, to his left, perched over the edge of the rocky bridge. Her blonde hair was longer, curlier than he’d ever seen it. She was wearing a white T-shirt, skinny jeans that weren’t quite as skin tight as they once were—just a side-effect of the world they now lived in.

  But damn did she look beautiful.

  “Unfortunately not,” James said, smiling back at Tamara, he too sitting over the side of the bridge, the reservoir beneath their feet. The sound of the water trickling in the wind was soothing in the otherwise perfect silence. There was a sweetness to the air. Another sign of the oncoming summer.

  It might just be perfect.

  “So you’re really telling me I’m the first person you brought along here with you?”

  “Well. Not exactly the first person. I mean, Riley and I came down here when we were scouting. Back, y’know. When Riley was fit to scout. But regardless, I don’t think he counts.”

  “No. I’m not sure he does.”

  “Then… yep. You’re the first.”

  Tamara put a hand on James’ left thigh. He felt his body tingle right from the centre like it always did whenever she got close.

  “You okay?” Tamara asked.

  James glanced at her. Skin on the back of his neck pricking up. “Yeah. You?”

  Tamara put a hand on her belly. Stroked it. It was her default nervous pose, James figured that by now. She was worried. About the baby. Especially after what’d happened two months ago when Mr Fletch let his Orions wreak havoc on the MLZ—havoc of which they were only just clearing up now.

  The way the Orions had followed her.

  The way they’d let her live.

  There could only be one reason.

  The baby had to be the reason.

  “Did you ever want to be a dad?”

  The question threw James. Took him by surprise. He wasn’t sure why exactly. Just something he wasn’t expecting. He didn’t like bringing up his past much. Didn’t even like thinking about it.

  Some things were best left forgotten.

  Even if Tamara knew more about him than anyone.

  “Honest answer or the answer you’ll probably want to hear?”

  “Let’s try the honest answer. Just this once.”

  “No. Can’t frigging stand ’em.”

  “Can’t frigging stand what?”

  “Kids. They get on my nerves. All loud and annoying and… nah. Not for me.”

  Tamara snorted. She snorted in a way she often did when James said stuff. Stuff that wasn’t even supposed to be funny. Just a splurge of honest thoughts.

  He saw her grinning. Saw the cute little gap between her teeth.

  He figured if he could make a beautiful woman like Tamara laugh—by accident or intention—then it was always a bonus.

  “I used to say I could never be a mum. Until I had Josh.”

  “So he was an accident, then?”

  Tamara widened her mouth and eyes. She didn’t laugh this time.

  Shit. Maybe he should be more accidental with his humour in future.

  “No. No, he wasn’t. But I was just not as into the idea as Steve.”

  “Strange fella.”

  “Yeah. I suppose he was. But anyway. Once he was born, I struggled a bit at first. Naturally. New mum. Pretty young.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  She punched James on the arm.

  He nearly lost his balance, fell into the deep waters of the reservoir below.

  “But soon, after a few weeks, it was like… it felt like the life I’d been living before I had Josh was incomplete, somehow. Like I’d been missing a piece of a jigsaw I didn’t even know was there. And once I realised that, as I watched him grow up into an amazing little boy, I just…”

  She stopped. Sniffed. Wiped a tear from her eye.

  “I just wish I’d been able to experience that feeling for longer.”

  James swallowed a lump in his throat. He thought about what to do. About the right way to act. The right way to react.

  In the end, he just went with his gut reflex.

  He put his arm around Tamara. Pulled her close. Felt her heart beating against him, felt his heart beating back in turn.

  “If… if you need anything. Like, any help. Or any… anyone there. With you. When you have the kid. Just—”

  “Are you trying to say you’re gonna be the daddy?”

  James laughed back in turn. Made Tamara laugh again.

  But as they sat there, water trickling beneath, arm around one another, peaceful in the perfect solitude of this secret location, James felt the truth sizzling between them. The electricity.

  Yes.

  Yes, that’s exactly what James wanted to be.

  That’s exactly who he was going to be.

  He was going to be the father of this baby.

  He was going to be there for Tamara, no matter what happened.

  She touched his chin. Focused on his eyes. And James stared back into hers. Felt himself getting lost. Felt himself slipping away into them.

  Not even the zombies could drag him away from this.

  Not even those damned Orions could do a thing.

  He closed his eyes as the warmth of the sun shone on him.

  Pressed his lips against Tamara’s.

  Held onto her left hand—which was missing two fingers—tight.

  Nothing was breaking this.

  Nothing was coming between them.

  Nothing.

  Now…

  JAMES LOOKED down at Tamara’s body.

  He could hear voices inside his head. Trying to comfort him. Trying to pull him away. Trying to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. That he shouldn’t be here. That he shouldn’t be witness to this.

  But all he could do was look into Tamara’s bloodshot eyes.

  Look at the fear inside them.

  The terror reflected in her gaze.

  All he could do was look at her hands.

  Resting on her belly.

  Resting on her belly like they always used to.

  Only there wasn’t any skin on her muscles.

  The muscles had been torn away.

  Her insides had been turned to mush.

  Her intestines had been savaged.

  James looked at the dark, bloody hole in the middle of Tamara’s torso.

  He looked at it, lifeless and still.

  And then he ran.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Riley didn’t sleep that night.

  The morning sun peeked through the window. The streets were quiet. Empty. There was always a strange, unique feel about them after an event like last night’s. Like the entire MLZ went into mourning.

  But most of all, Riley knew it was fear that gripped the MLZ.

  It was complete, undiluted fear.

  For a change, Riley didn’t smell booze on his breath. He caught a whiff of the natural smells of his lounge—a red berry air freshener Jordanna insisted on installing. There was a dullness to his mouth. Like it was crying out for flavour. Like the back of his throat was begging to be dampened by the only thing that could possibly satisfy him.

  Alcohol.

  But he wasn’t drinking today.

  Nobody was drinking today.

  Not after what’d happened to Tamara.

  Just the memory made his stomach churn. The memory of going out into that dark night. The red light from the moon. James running up to Riley, telling him Tamara had gone missing.

  And then vanishing. Something… something strange happening in time. Like a shift. A blackout.

  And then he found Tamara’s body.

  Tamara’s brutalised body glowing in the red moonlight.

  He gulped. Shook his head. Stepped away from the window. Tamara. He’d known her ever since he’d reached the MLZ, but he knew she’d been a part of the group for a long while before that, travelling with Pedro after Heathwaite’s caravan park shortly after they were separated. She was a tough woman. A tough human being who’d been through a lot of shit. Who’d taken every setback with grace. With confidence.

  And now she was gone.

  Riley walked across his lounge. Walked towards the kitchen area in the open plan room. He wasn’t really doing anything. No real direction. No real sense of what to do. Of where to go.

  He felt lost.

  He leaned against the marble kitchen worktop. Gripped onto it. It wasn’t just losing Tamara that got to him. It was the way he’d found her. The way her skin had been ripped away. The way her muscles had been churned up like something had been chewing on them.

  But most of all, the fear in her eyes.

  The look on her face.

  Tamara knew what was happening to her.

  She knew something terrible was happening to her.

  And that moment of pure fear, of dignity being dragged away, was there for everyone to see.

  He prayed James hadn’t seen her like that. Prayed wherever he’d got to, wherever he’d vanished to, he’d not seen Tamara in that state. It was enough to break a man. To snap him in two.

  There was something else bothering Riley, too. Something more personal. Something more… selfish.

  He’d been the one to witness what happened to Billy.

  He’d been the one to discover Tamara.

  And there’d been cuts and blood on his hands.

  What did it mean?

  What did—

  A knock. A bang at the door. Snapped him right out of his thoughts.

  He took a few deep breaths. Walked over to it.

  Memories from last night trickled back into his mind. Leaving the room in pursuit of the scream, surrounded in darkness.

  The unwavering sense that somebody—some thing—was outside his apartment.

  He stopped at the door.

  Peeked through the peephole.

  At the other side, he saw Jordanna.

  She looked tired. Baggy eyes. Arms wrapped around her front.

  She lifted her hand again. Knocked at the door. “Riley, please. We’ve had this discussion. It’s obvious you’re at the door.”

  Riley sighed. Lowered his head.

  Then he turned the key and unlocked the door.

  Looking at Jordanna right now, it was easy to mistake her for someone who’d just suffered her first loss. It reminded him of when he’d first met her. The fear and vulnerability she had when she held a gun to Ted’s head. The reluctance to put her boyfriend down.

  And the sense of loss.

  The sense of ultimate loss as Riley and Ted drove away from her.

  She looked up at Riley, tears welling in her eyes, and he saw that vulnerability all over again.

  “Are you—”

  She stepped close to Riley. Put her arms around him. And as his bushy beard brushed against her hair, as the warmth of her body pressed up against his, he felt close to her again. Closer than he’d felt in a long time.

  She sniffed. Then she pulled away. Wiped the tears from her eyes. “How you keeping?”

  Riley nodded. “As I have to. How’s James?”

  Jordanna shrugged, inviting herself into the apartment. She put her bag down on the kitchen worktop. “Not sure. Haven’t seen him. Missing. Hassan and the others are trying to… Is that blood?”

  Riley felt his insides go cold.

  He walked up to Jordanna. Looked at where she was looking.

  And then he saw it.

  The specks of blood on the kitchen work surface.

  He hadn’t seen them before. Hadn’t noticed them before.

  Whose was it?

  Where had it come from?

  “I… I don’t know,” Riley said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I just… Is there any news? On the killer?”

  Jordanna glanced away from the specks of blood. Looked back at Riley. But now, he saw a scepticism in her eyes. He saw a suspicion. “We… No. We’re trying to get everyone in the immediate vicinity in for questioning. So far we’ve found everyone except Cal.”

  “Cal Jenkins?”

  Jordanna nodded. “Wife hasn’t seen him since the ball. I saw him leave. He was acting a bit weird then.”

  “So he’s one to watch.”

  “I don’t know,” Jordanna said. She perched on the end of the sofa. “He’s gone AWOL before. Fancies himself as a bit of a survivalist. One of these days I know we’re just gonna—”

  “Jordanna, did you see the moon last night?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what—”

  “The moon. It was red. Blood red. And it just… Look, I know how crazy this sounds, but there was something weird about it the other night, too. When I found… when I found Billy.”

  “You’re saying the moon has something to do with what happened to Tamara?”

  Riley shook his head. “Yes. No. Well, I don’t know. Maybe not directly, but just… it seems like everything strange has started happening since the blood moon.”

  “The blood moon?”

  “Yeah. Haven’t you heard of a blood moon?”

  “So you haven’t just made that term up?”

  “No, I—”

  “Riley, I’m going to give you some advice. It’s not advice I want to be giving you right now. Especially not with… not with emotions so raw. But when James shows up again, you know what he’s going to do.”

  Riley felt a lump swelling up in his throat. “I’m not sure what…”

  “We built the gallows for a reason, Riley. You know that as well as I do.”

  In that instantaneous flash, Riley saw the truth. He saw exactly what Jordanna was getting at. Exactly what she was hinting at.

  The woman he cared for—the woman he fucking loved—was telling him that the death penalty would stand for the murderer.

  The woman he loved thought he was the murderer.

  Riley nodded. Half-smiled. “I do know that.”

  Jordanna scanned his face. He saw her eyes twitch, like she was looking for a shift in his emotions. Like she was reading him.

  And then her gaze softened. She too nodded.

  “Well, just… just be home. When they come to question you. Just be home.”

  She turned around. Grabbed her bag. Walked towards the apartment door.

  “I always am,” Riley said.

  Jordanna didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around and reply.

  She just walked away. Left.

  And as she did, Riley couldn’t help but think back to the weird events of last night.

  The blood moon.

  The gaps in his memory.

  But above anything, he couldn’t stop staring at the splashes of blood peppered on his kitchen work surface.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hassan watched the blood trickle down from his nostrils, streaming like a leaky tap.

  He stared at the blood. Stared at it as it rolled down his top lip. Then onto the crack between his lips, his bottom lip, his chin. He didn’t move from that spot in the bathroom. Didn’t look away from the dirty mirror, the lightbulb above flickering sporadically in a seizure-inducing dance.

  He didn’t do a thing.

  Just stared.

  He had a vague sense of the surroundings outside. He could hear a hint of chatter. But more than anything, he just focused on that tickling sensation as blood fell from his nostrils. He just stared into his own bloodshot eyes. Stared at them, all wide and watery.

  Nose so bunged up with blood, he couldn’t smell a thing.

  The taste of metal strong on his lips.

  Just watching.

  Just…

  “Hassan?”

  Hassan blinked. Turned. The interruption was sudden and jarring. Like being woken from a nap that you don’t realise is quite as deep as it actually is.

  He looked at the bathroom door. Saw Thomas standing there.

  Thomas was a good man. Only five foot seven, but he made sure everyone knew he was the same height as Tom Cruise. Only that was where the similarities with Tom Cruise ended. He was ginger, for one. Fat, for two. Bucktoothed. Thick glasses.

  He wasn’t much of a looker.

  But he was a good guy.

  So pretty much the stereotype of the guy who finishes last.

  “You… you’ve got…” He pointed to his top lip, eyes narrowed.

  Hassan nodded. Wiped away some of the blood, which still poured out of his nostrils. “I know. Used to get ’em all the time as a kid. Don’t worry about it.”

  Thomas’ frown didn’t go away.

  Hassan turned around. Looked at the cracked sink. It was hardly the epitome of hygiene when he’d stepped in this place. But now, it resembled an abattoir in miniature. Pasted with blood. Blood that, no matter how hard you scrubbed at it; no matter how much you scratched to get it away, it just kept on clinging to the foundations.

  Like a scar.

  Like a reminder.

  “You’ve… I don’t mean to be rude, like. But you’ve been in here a while.”

  Hassan turned. Looked back at Thomas. “How long’s a while?”

  He smiled. Just to create a sense of peace. A sense of calm.