“It’s okay!” I shouted over the music at the brief glimpses of clothes. “We’re all okay! Come out. You’ll be safer with us. I promise we won’t hurt you.”
A moment of silence passed and then two figures emerged nervously onto the path.
“Well, I’ll be.” George muttered from behind his pipe, and inside I echoed his sentiment. It was a young woman and a little girl. They approached cautiously as we stared, the woman gripping the girl’s hand.
Both wore jeans and had their long chestnut curls pulled back into ponytails. As they came up the stairs, the young woman stared at us cautiously, but her eyes seemed to flicker slightly with recognition when she glanced at me and I thought I knew why.
“Was it you that was following me earlier?”
She nodded, and I tried not to notice how pretty she was. It didn’t seem right to even think about it, not so soon after Chloe. But still, I found myself staring at her smooth skin and wide eyes just slightly too much, drawn in by the blend of green and hazel that flickered there. She could only have been about twenty-one or twenty-two. I felt a pang of delicate hope. If she were alive, then maybe this hadn’t happened to all women. Maybe there were more that were unaffected. Uninfected. The thought was so good it terrified me. I just
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needed to focus on these two. These two girls and us. There was too much to think about and I was pretty sure that we’d find out what state the world was in before too long.
George handed her a coffee and she took a sip before speaking.
“Yes, that was us. We’d come down from Wolverton. The only person we’d seen up there fired an airgun at us and only just missed. He was yelling at us like he hated us.” She frowned slightly. “After that, we weren’t in a hurry to make friends quickly. We almost approached you, but then when I saw you kicking that shop grille, well, you scared us a bit. We couldn’t take the risk.”
“Yeah, I can see how I must have looked.” I tried my best winning smile on her, but she didn’t look convinced. “Matthew Edge.” I held out my hand and she took it and shook it, which was a start.
“Katherine…Katie Parker. And this is my little sister, Jane.”
The girl couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, and she hid slightly behind her sister’s slim body, her wide suspicious eyes peering out at us. She seemed to calm slightly as George held his hand out to introduce himself and it didn’t surprise me. There was something very reassuring about George Leicester that went beyond his age.
“Well, we’re very pleased to have you among us, Jane.”
I nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you join us? We’re not really sure what we’re doing yet, but whatever we decide, you’re welcome to come along if you want.” I was eager for their company and I could see George was, too. What would Katie and Jane be to
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him? A replacement for his lost daughter and grandchildren? Perhaps what they represented to us didn’t really matter. Perhaps the crux of it was that no matter how much we had moaned and complained about them in the past, a world without women seemed like a bleak place to exist in.
“You lot must be fucking joking!”
Nigel barged past John and Dave, forcing his way up to us, and Jane recoiled from his outburst.
“They can’t come with us!” His face was red with aggression and small darts of spit flew from his mouth. “That man with the airgun had the right idea. They’ll turn into those things…the widows. They can’t fucking come with us!”
There was a quiver of fear in Katie’s strong face at the mention of the widows, and I realised in that moment that I didn’t like Nigel Phelps too much and I doubted I was ever going to. My disgust must’ve showed on my face, because he hesitated for a second and stared at me before his eyes sought reassurance from the others. He didn’t find it.
“I admit I don’t know much about women and children, but even I can see you’re scaring the child.” Dave’s voice was quiet and controlled. “And they both look pretty healthy to me.”
“Those things could be growing in them. Don’t you get it? You didn’t see them.” Sweat dripped from the damp curls at the nape of his neck.
George smiled gently. “In those waists? I doubt it.”
“They’re staying with us, Nigel. It seems the majority are in agreement.”
“I’ll go along with that.” John’s words escaped with a mouthful of smoke from somewhere just over my shoulder.
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“So that’s everyone but you. Of course, if you’re not happy with that, then you can go off on your own. You’re not obliged to stay with us.”
His gaze darted hesitantly around the group, and for a moment the awkward silence hung so heavily in the air that I thought only a rumble of thunder from above could break it. As it turned out, it was Jane. She had crept out from the cover of Katie and climbed the first two of the wooden stairs.
“Aren’t you Emma’s dad?” Her words were almost not there as she stared at Nigel.
“What?” Spinning round, it was like he was really seeing her for the first time, as a person, a little girl rather than some potential monster.
“Emma Phelps? I was in her class. 7M. I came to a sleepover at your house a couple of months ago and you took us all to McDonalds.” Her sweet face broke into a hesitant smile. “It was really nice that day, Mr. Phelps. Thank you.”
His cheeks wobbled with emotion as he stared at the child, tears welling up once again. I felt a frown pinch my forehead. Why hadn’t he mentioned having a child? And where had she been during his final day with his wife?
Jane glanced around. “Is Emma here?”
Nigel moaned and turned, his slouched frame heading back into the clubhouse. We let him go. Whatever story he had to tell about his daughter, this obviously wasn’t the time. Still, despite everything he’d been through, I couldn’t bring myself to like him.
“No, honey.” George crouched on the stair. “Emma’s not here.”
Jane just nodded as if she really hadn’t expected any different, and then sat on the bottom step staring into
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the distance. Dave came out and gave her a bottle of coke, which she took without saying a word as the rest of us gathered on the porch. George turned the music off.
“I think that’s done its job now. Anyone else out there obviously doesn’t want to join us, so I guess this is it.” He lifted Gracie Fields carefully from the record player and slid the vinyl regretfully back into its sleeve before putting it with the others on the small table.
“Now all we have to do is decide what we’re going to do from now. We can’t stay here forever.”
He was right. This had been a good gathering place, but it was time to move on. It was almost half past two and the day was ebbing away from us, and I for one didn’t want to find myself outside and unprepared tonight. Who knew what the widows would do when night fell?
Dave must have been thinking about the new species amongst us too, although his voice was lighter in tone than I was feeling.
“Well, at least we haven’t seen any out and about yet. That’s got to be a good thing.” He seemed to take comfort in that until John shook his head, resting his thin body on the railings.
“I wouldn’t read too much into it. They’re newborn. How many newborn animals do you know that just get out into the world the minute they arrive? None.” He paused. “And these don’t have any mothers to show them the ropes. Not of their own kind, anyway.”
I nodded, the memory of that flat above the cafe flashing again unwelcome in my head. “And they’ve got a supply of food. At least for a while.”
Despite the sunshine, I think we all shivered.
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John threw down his butt and ground it out. “They’re going to take a little time to adjust. But personally, I want to get the hell away from here before they start exploring their new world.”
“I second that.” George picked up the dirty glasses and coffee cups to take inside, as if it made a difference now.
“We should go up to the city shopping centre.” It was the first time Katie had spoken. “Get some supplies, like sleeping bags and things. They should have everything we need there.”
She was right. The city centre would be a good place to go. I certainly didn’t fancy working my way through the Stony shops. “That’s a good plan. And there shouldn’t be too many widows around. It’s a working place, not a living place. From what I’ve seen so far, most people got trapped at home.”
George emerged with Nigel in time to catch the end of the conversation.
“Just one problem there, Matt. I don’t have a car, and to be honest, its years since I’ve driven. Probably won’t be much use to you there.”
I grinned at him. “Don’t worry, you can be the navigator.”
“But he has got a point. What are we going to do for cars? I walked here.” Dave shrugged, a little embarrassed by his obvious bachelor lifestyle. “I’ve got one at home, but it’s a little sporty thing. Not really ideal for carrying stuff.”
“We need fourwheel drives. They’ll be the best. Range Rovers or Land Rovers. Who knows where we’ll have to take them, and they’ve got plenty of space.” My adrenaline was starting to pump again with the thought of moving, of doing something.
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John pushed his hat slightly back on his head, revealing sharp blue eyes. “Well, we’d better go and find some then. Stony’s not a poor town. I bet there’s plenty dotted around. We’ve just got to find three or four and then get the keys.”
The idea of getting the keys wasn’t pleasant. That meant getting into peoples houses, and although I could see the necessity, it was a sobering thought.
Moving slightly forward, Nigel glared at the young man. “Can’t you hot-wire them or something?”
“Just ‘cos I’m under twenty and don’t wear a suit doesn’t make me a criminal. Sorry to disappoint you.” He turned away, but the dangerous snarl was visible. It seemed that it wasn’t only me that had taken a dislike to Phelps.
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Chapter Eight
Having arranged to meet up again at the large roundabout at the top end of the village in an hour, we split up to find some transport. George had paired Katie with me and, despite the wave of guilt and grief that followed it, I felt a small thrill surge through me when she smiled. Maybe she was pleased to be with me, too. I couldn’t help it. I liked that thought.
We walked silently in single file, Jane protected as best she could be between us, and in Katie’s firm grip was the knife I’d fled from the cafe with. There’d been a moment when it had looked as if Nigel was going to argue that he and George needed it more, but he’d wisely shut his mouth, his bottom lip trembling and moist. If he hadn’t kept himself quiet then I might have forced him into it. However, Jane seemed to unsettle him and make him edgy, and that silenced him. His eyes couldn’t rest on her. It was strange; you’d think she would bring out his paternal side and make him more protective, but as far as I could tell he just wanted to stay as far from her as possible.
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Small flies gathered buzzing around my head as we cautiously passed The Plough, and I could see them forming haloes above the girls ahead of me. Jane swatted around her impatiently, but Katie ignored them, her slim frame striding forward like some kind of jungle huntress, out of place amongst the brick and concrete surroundings. Although, as the encroaching oppressive heat of the afternoon promised to end this first day of our changed world in an angry downpour, I wondered if she was that out of place at all. There was no safety left in the walls we’d built to protect ourselves. The Englishman’s home was no longer his castle. It had become a nest of widows.
We paused at the narrow cobbled road that led into Horsefair Green. In the long summer days, rock, jazz and folk bands would play on makeshift stages, entertaining lazy crowds relaxing on the grass, and in the cooler months of April and May it would be host to numerous fairs and fetes. The green with the bandstand was a sought after living area, the small terraces that surrounded it fetching huge sums for the charming but very small living space they provided. And I should know. In that past life of less than a week before, someone from the Green putting their house on the market would set my heart racing. They sold themselves and it was an easy bonus.
Along with the smaller properties there were also several very beautiful larger houses, some almost medieval cottages, and others more Georgian in look, with their large windows peering down from impressive whitewashed walls. They were all terraced, and as we stared ahead of us, what had only a few days ago been a beautiful, if slightly quaint, view, was now claustrophobic and brooding. It seemed as if the
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houses were glaring at us threateningly, daring us to come forward. The small roads at the far two corners seemed a long way away. Too far away.
“Well, I don’t want to sound paranoid,” Katie’s voice was low and soft, “but I’m not sure I want to go in there.” With her free hand I noticed she’d reached for Jane. The child looked up at her sister, and there was more than a little fear in those wide eyes.
I glanced from the women to the green and back again, mulling it over. If I were honest, I wasn’t keen to wander into such a densely populated part of the village myself, not with only one small weapon and a woman and a child. The memory of that man in the cafe flashed again in my head and I shivered, a ripple of nausea and fear twisting my nerves. If the widows ambushed us, then I doubted there would be much we could do. I wondered how fast they could move. On eight legs, however pale and spindly, I figured they could easily keep up with us. Too easily.
I wasn’t talking myself into going forward, that was for sure, but this was the part of town we’d agreed to check out and I didn’t want to let the others down. Hell, I didn’t want to let myself down. And a very small part of me didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Katie. I guess when you think there’s only one grown and normal woman in the world and she happens to be gorgeous, then the built-in need to impress tends to take over.