 
## Arcadium

by

Sarah Gray

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978 147 600 633 8

Copyright © 2012 Sarah Gray. All rights reserved.

http://sarahjacinda.wordpress.com

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be re-sold or given away to others. If you would like to share this book please purchase a copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and events are either the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or undead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

## Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

About the Author

Thanks

Skylight (Book 2)

Connect with Sarah Gray

Australianisms

Choose Your Own Journey: Florence West

### Chapter 1

LISS SHOULDERS HER backpack and waits in the middle of the road for me. The sun is white-hot today and a severe heat haze rises from the bitumen, making her look like a mirage.

She's so skinny and small, standing in her white linen summer dress and bulky black Doc Marten boots. Her hair is delicate and flyaway, as if the golden strands are trying to reach out to the sun the way plants do to stay alive.

I know I'm a bad sister for allowing her to be exposed to the harsh Australian elements like this. She's only nine. All she understands is that food comes from the fridge or the cupboard or the shop, that electricity just is, and that your house is the safest place in the world. How's she supposed to understand there's a big gaping hole in the ozone layer right over our heads letting in super sun rays, twice as hot and strong and deadly?

I'll have to find some sun-smart stuff on the road because I can't stand to be in dad's house anymore. I guess nowadays melanoma is the least of our worries but still, why give up good habits just because the world fell into some crazy apocalypse, right?

I motion for her to come back, to stay closer. Liss dawdles over slowly and I reach for her pack. She slides it off her shoulders and sits on the fence, legs dangling.

We each have a backpack and I can't help but check hers to make sure she hasn't put anything stupid in there that'll weigh her down.

I unzip her pack and shuffle everything around. She carries a plastic water bottle, an iPod shuffle, a toothbrush and band-aids. She also has a lighter and a can of aerosol deodorant that spits a mean flame when you use them together, but that's the only weapon I'll ever give her. To be honest, it's a last resort thing. I don't even know if she'd use it. Things have changed, the world's gone crazy, but the thought of my innocent nine-year-old sister hacking into the flesh of an infected with an axe or something, well, that just destroys me, and I can't imagine what it'd do to her brain. I mean, how do you come back from something like that? The infected chase us, try to kill us, but we can always hide away, somewhere out of reach. But I don't know how to hide from memories of awfulness that sink like black tar through your insides and can't ever be cleaned out again.

With any luck Liss won't have to deal with those kind of haunting thoughts, just me. It's like I'm the courier and she's the message, and I have to deliver her safely... somewhere. I just don't know where yet.

Right now all we have is our backpacks and each other.

Suddenly my hand slips over something foreign — square and hard with lots of plastic corners. I dig out the offending item: a Nintendo DS... and charger... and five games in their original big plastic cases.

"Liss?" I chuck the games on the front lawn and hold up the DS. "There's no electricity, remember? You can't charge it. It's a useless hunk of metal now."

Liss crosses her arms. "But I want it."

I ditch the DS and zip up her bag. She slings it over her shoulders and pouts, but about five seconds later she seems to have forgotten and is sitting there swinging her legs like she's bored. She accepts things quickly, but never thinks of the consequences of doing silly things. Like getting us killed for a game that doesn't even work.

A bubble of irritation slowly expands in my chest and I stand for a moment, balling up my fists, trying to imagine popping it with a needle. The last thing we need is to be fighting and storming off in opposite directions. So I say nothing.

I take a deep breath and double check my own pack, just in case she's put anything weird in there too. She hasn't though, it's just boring essentials: a siphon tube, a plastic water bottle, antiseptic wipes, a pocket-knife and a can opener. That's it.

We never carry food; in this world it's the new gold. Everyone wants it and if they know you've got it there's no telling what they'll do. I'm no expert at this, but I figure staying as low and incognito as possible is the way to survive. No big flashy weapons, no large groups to slow you down. Just fast feet, great hiding skills and a place to run to.

"Flo?" Liss says in her bored whiney voice.

I shoulder my backpack and step into the baking sun. "Yeah?"

"It's hot."

Cue inward eye roll for my genius kid sister. It's funny because before the infection we didn't really get along. At all. When my parents got divorced we both took a side and joined the battle. I stayed with mum over the other side of Melbourne and Liss moved with dad to the northern suburbs, where we are now. But fear does weird things to a person, and my first thought in the outbreak?

I have to get to Liss.

And I did, and it's the only thing that's been driving me since. We don't know what happened to dad or mum. I assume they're infected like nearly everyone else. So now it's just Liss and me.

"Walk on the footpath," I say quietly. "There's more shade."

Liss slips off the fence, cruises over to the nature strip and we walk. The sun glare is insane, we're both squinting. It must be thirty-five degrees minimum, but at least it's a dry heat. I can't stand muggy and humid.

Within seconds I have an ultra snazzy sweat moustache beading on my upper lip. Thank god there are no remotely attractive guys around to see me like this.

Usually I wear this brown leather jacket I flogged from a store (after the apocalypse began, mind you, I'm no thief) because I hate to bare skin. If I need to take out an infected person I can't risk them biting me or flicking blood everywhere and infecting me too. But it's just too damn hot today, so I'm down to my black skinny jeans and this flimsy white t-shirt that you can totally see my dark coloured bra through. Maybe if I'd known the apocalypse was coming I'd have dressed more appropriately. But it seems you don't get a warning when your world's about to collapse.

Liss stops a few metres before the intersection and I creep along a fence. I tilt my head so I can just see into the adjoining street.

It's all the same as before, single story brick houses with parched front lawns and dried up plants curling in on themselves. The colour of brick varies from sandy beige to flat out brown to this dried blood red. Every house shape is different, set out on their blocks of land randomly like a Tetris game exploded. Most windows have shutters open or curtains closed; just a few are boarded over or blanked out with newspaper.

Slowly I do a full scan from left to right. Movement is what the infected seem to go for, and people move an awful lot. I straighten and beckon for Liss to follow. We carry on to the right, along the shaded side of the street.

Liss hooks her thumbs under her backpack straps. "How long till we get there?"

I look across at her. It's amazing what kids can take, she always seems so unaffected. "How fast can you walk?" I say.

We carry on like this all day. Stopping at each intersection, checking the way is clear and then moving on. At noon we stop and drink half our water. Liss sits on the grassy nature strip and stretches out her legs. I stay standing, always on guard.

Liss holds out her arms. "Do you think I'm getting a tan?"

I quirk an eyebrow. "What do you need a tan for?"

Liss thinks about it for a moment, shrugs and points straight ahead. "My school's just over there."

"Yeah?" I screw the lid on my water bottle and shove it back into my bag. "Bet you're glad you don't have to go back."

"I bet you're glad. You always complained about High School."

I wipe the sweat off my upper lip. "Yeah, but I only had one year to go and I would've been free at last." I turn my head and listen for a moment, but it's all quiet. I want to _say fat lot of good school did for teaching us how to survive_ but I try not to get cynical in front of Liss because I know that no matter how much we might have fought in the past she still looks up to me. That she'll become what I am. "Come on," I say. "We should keep moving."

I pull Liss to her feet and we keep going. An hour or so later we pass two abandoned cars in the middle of the street. A red Holden t-boned into the side of a silver Volvo.

Liss stops when I lift my hand. "Bloody Volvo drivers," she says.

I can't help but smile. That's something she got from dad. For him, any other car on the road was a pile of rubbish and must have had a blind driver at the wheel.

I walk over and peer in the Volvo's cracked windscreen. Thankfully there's no one in it. I move around to the Holden and see the dried blood splattered across the inside of the windows. The passenger door is open, but there's no body left. Actually that's a lie, I can see a gnawed off foot, still wedged under the accelerator pedal. The rest of it's gone; without a doubt eaten by the infected.

I back away, and check the Volvo for anything we might need. The keys are still in the ignition but when I turn them over it doesn't start. The boot is full of decomposing groceries but in the glove compartment I hit the jackpot: a pair of chrome aviator sunnies and a sealed bag of Chupa Chups.

I head back to Liss and hand her the sunnies.

"Cool," she says, trying them on. They're too big for her face and make her look like a bug.

"Very terminator like," I say, ripping open the bag of lollypops. "What flavour do you want?"

"Is there any watermelon?"

I rummage through the bag. Of course there's watermelon, it's like the best flavour they have. I throw one to her. Liss almost catches it but it bounces off her fingers and clatters across the concrete. I watch her chase it and wonder how she'd ever survive on her own. I take a cola one because I know Liss won't eat those, and we head off again.

By six o'clock a cool breeze starts to pick up and I swear it's like freaking heaven. I can tell Liss is getting tired but she doesn't complain. That's not her style. She just states the obvious like _it's hot_ in the middle of summer or _they're coming_ when a horde of infected are heading straight for us. It's super helpful.

"What do you want for dinner?" I ask, trying to distract her.

"Something cold like... peaches."

"Is that all?"

"Maybe some Oreos too."

I wrinkle my nose just as Liss stops. We've come to a big intersection, leading to a main road. She hangs back and I creep forward. It's clear in both directions, though I can't see that far into the distance because the road curves away. In front is a big half-finished housing development, surrounded by a nice high chain-link fence.

I wave to Liss and cross the road, waiting for her on the other side. "We going in?" she asks.

"It'll be dark soon. We'll be safe here for the night."

Liss scratches her elbow. "Me first?"

I glance over both shoulders. "Yep. Just stay at the top until I give you the all clear, yeah?"

For all her visible frailness Liss is actually pretty decent at climbing. She scales the three-meter fence with no problem and straddles the top. "Kay, I'm good," she calls down.

Liss holds on as I climb, wobbling the fence back and forth. When I reach the top I realise we've got a pretty good view of the estate from here. The buildings on the left are just frames but the ones on the right have roofs and walls and hopefully lockable doors... not like the infected can turn door knobs, but normal people can be just as threatening.

"What do you think?" Liss asks. The breeze plays with her loose hair.

I point to the far corner. "I say we walk around to that side and find shelter. It looks quiet."

Liss nods. "No blood."

"No blood," I agree. That's a good sign. If the infected were in here they'd be trailing blood everywhere. "We'll hole up in one of those houses. I bet that portable office will have food."

Liss nods and begins to climb down. I'm about to follow but I hear something and freeze. Liss pauses, clinging to the mid section of the fence, and looks up at me.

I search for visual clues but can't see anything strange. The noise is subtle and slowly growing louder: sweeping sounds like jeans scraping along the bitumen. I glance around but can't see the source so I wave at Liss to keep going. I pause a moment longer, feeling an ominous chill spread through my bones.

The sound is on the other side of the fence, somewhere down the road we just came off. Scraping and scratching and shuffling and moving, heading in our general direction. It's a sound I've heard too many times before. Infected people are coming.

Liss is watching me carefully as I step down. "What is it?"

"Nothing probably." My hand lingers on the fence. "Have you still got your iPod?"

Liss nods.

"Why don't you put it on?"

She stares at me for a second and then does a scan of the road before pulling it out of her bag.

"What are you listening to?" I put my hands on her shoulders and walk behind her.

Liss puts the buds in her ears, presses play and pauses it again. "Michael Jackson. Thriller."

I shake my head. "How ironic."

Liss presses play and I can just hear the tinny tune coming out of the headphones.

A scream rips though the naked air. Liss hears it too and her head snaps round.

A man, maybe late twenties, comes tearing out of nowhere, running toward us.

His eyes lock onto mine and widen. "Help me, please!" he screams. He's frantic, barefoot and there's blood on his arm. Even if he weren't possibly infected I still wouldn't help him. My only priority is Liss.

He smashes his whole body against the chain link fence making it wobble and clang. Bad move buddy. Noise is the infected people's second favourite thing.

Liss looks from the man to me. I place my hand over her ears, point her head in the direction I want to go. We keep moving. There are no deviations from the plan. We're walking along this fence line the whole way, even if we do have a crazy man shouting at us.

"Hey!" The man bangs the fence with his palms and tries to get me to look at him. I mean, really? Here's a grown man asking a sixteen-year-old girl and her kid sister to help _him_. I press my lips together and keep going, trying to ignore his stupidity. I do want to say something helpful like _just climb the damned fence_ or maybe _run!_ These are two fantastic pieces of advice in any apocalyptic situation. But I never ever talk to strangers now, it's just too dangerous. One word is enough to form a bond, and I can't have anyone hanging off us. Everyone just wants somebody to look after them, so when things go wrong they can blame that someone else. I won't be that person.

I stare straight ahead and from the corner of my eye I see them coming. The man is jogging alongside the fence, following us and rattling the chain links, his back to the road. The infected zero in on him like grains in an hourglass rushing toward one tiny gap.

I move my right hand forward so it acts as a blinker for Liss. It's about to get very ugly for this man with no apparent running or climbing skills. I've seen it all before but I don't want Liss to.

There are eight infected people, running wildly towards him, arms outstretched and mouths gaping. The infection seems to suck all the pigment from their skin and renders them pale white. Not like sexy vampire pale, mind you, more like a weary faded fabric worn to its last threads. And they're so gross with dirty flesh tendrils hanging from their teeth, beards of dried blood and fingers scratched down to bones. A few are missing arms or great chunks of flesh and one even has a giant hole in his stomach, through and through.

Common sense says all of them should be dead, but nothing seems to stop them once they're riddled with the disease, that is except for killing off their last driving engine: the good old brain.

The man doesn't even turn around when they reach him. He just keeps trying to catch my evading eyes. The infected slam him up against the fence and lose control. I concentrate on looking ahead, steadying my breath and steering Liss.

The man screams, lips pressed against the wired diamonds of the fence. It's soon accompanied by the porous sound of tearing flesh. Not a great sound. Not something anyone ever really wants to hear.

The infected are probably ripping him limb from limb and feasting on his insides now. The screaming becomes wet gurgling and I can't help it. I actually look down at him. He raises his twitching hand, reaching for me through the throng of bodies gnawing at him. All I can think is _should have jumped the fence, mate_. And if he had, he would have been fine. Part of me, some distant and pushed away part, feels bad for him. But like an echo it disappears. I snap my head away and focus on what's in front of us. It's every man, woman and child for themselves now.

The infected aren't interested in following us since they have an easy feed at their feet, and we kept on walking, slowly, slowly, so we don't attract any unnecessary attention. Nobody ever notices someone calmly walking but we all notice the person running like a madman.

At the end of the housing estate I can't hear the gross moans and gargling sounds anymore so I drop my hands and tap Liss on the shoulder. When she turns around I mimic pulling invisible earphone from my ears. She puts the iPod away.

"Should we get some food?" I ask.

She gives a tiny nod.

After my appetiser of human grossness, I'm not at all hungry but food is strength and we always need to be stronger.

I decided to scope out a house first. Just to be safe, I leave Liss in an overgrown bush and head over to investigate.

I suppose this is where a weapon would come in handy but my kid sister is watching my every move. Even now, I feel a responsibility to set some kind of example for her. I keep thinking if I can get Liss through this damned outbreak without grizzly memories of me chopping people up and what not, then she might actually stand a chance to grow up and be a normal person.

Besides do I look like a samurai?

I don't know how to use weapons... wielding one probably puts me in more danger than it does any infected person. And in my experience, running and hiding is far more effective than roaming around like Rambo.

I step through the empty garden and peer in the front window. It's empty inside too, the walls aren't even painted yet. I try the front door and it swings open. A musty smell lingers but it's silent within. I move from room to room, checking every space a person might be able to fit before deciding it's safe enough for Liss. I check the kitchen cupboards too but they're empty. Figures.

The garage is just brick and concrete and only enough room for one small car, so it seems like a good spot to hole up for the night. From what I can see there are three exits: the roller door, the door leading into the house and the roof cavity (the ceiling boards aren't in place yet so we could get up there if needed). Perfect.

I lift the roller door a crack and listen before lifting it higher and sliding out. After a slow and careful scan I head over to Liss.

"It's good," I say. "We'll stay here tonight but first we need food."

"What do you think builders eat?" Liss says, as we wander over to the portable office.

"I don't know. Snacky things, I suppose." I stand on my tiptoes and peer in through the window. I have to cup my hands against the glass because of the late afternoon glare.

"All clear?" Liss asks, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I look down at her. "I'll go first."

The screen door and main door are both unlocked, which isn't that strange I suppose. When the outbreak really took hold people just upped and left in such a hurry that locking doors wasn't a priority. Looting never even got to be a huge problem because people on the streets just got infected so quickly. I sometimes wonder how many normal people there are left.

Inside the metal cube it's stonking hot and smells like sweat. There's a desk full of paper, a phone that won't work now, a couch and a vending machine. Jackpot.

I wander over and touch the glass. "Find me something to break it with?" I say to Liss' reflection.

Liss puts her hands on her hips and surveys the room. "The chair maybe?"

"Do I look like the hulk?" I've already worked out what I'm going to use but I want her to be able to figure it out on her own too.

She looks back. "Umm."

"Quick. Think. Before we die from heatstroke."

Liss narrows her eyes. "That thing." She points to the fire alarm where a glass-breaking hammer hangs.

"Yeah." I nod. "That'll work."

Liss hands it to me and stands back. I take my leather jacket from my bag, wrap it around my hand and slam the hammer against the glass. The glass cracks and a shower of shards fall to the floor and I shake out my jacket. "Ok, what'll it be?"

Liss Grins. "One of everything."

"Two of everything it is." I start pulling out chips and chocolate bars, and using my jacket as a sack, I stuff it full. "You want to check the desk draws, see if there's anything interesting?"

I hear her go through each draw. "Paper... stationary... gum..."

"I like gum. Take it."

"Keys... asthma inhaler thingy... Panadol..."

"Panadol, I guess. That's enough, leave the rest. But grab those couch cushions. We should hole up before it gets dark."

I used to think night time was cool. At my friend's (parent free) parties, we used to run around the dark streets, totally free, running amuck. Drunk of course, which probably made it feel all the more epic. But you wouldn't catch me doing that now. The infected don't sleep and they can sneak pretty well. I just can't risk moving in the dark.

The roller door locks from inside, which is super handy but I leave the house door unlocked in case we need to leave in a hurry. Liss has her M&M's spread across the floor. She slowly sorts them into colour order.

"Can you sort mine too?" I say.

Liss nods but doesn't look up, just grabs my pack, tears it open and starts sorting. I'm eating salt and vinegar chips, trying to chew them quietly if that's at all possible because each damned crunch sounds loud enough to attract the dead. The couch cushions are positioned on the ground, right next to the brick wall. Liss always sleeps with her back to the wall and I sleep on the other side of her, so I get the bad guys first.

We've made ok progress today, I mean it's not like we're up against the clock or anything. The place we're heading too — and I don't want to say where just in case I jinx it — will still be there in two days or two months. One thing's for sure: I want to bypass the city ASAP. It's too dense, too concentrated with infected and it totally creeps me out. I don't know this side of Melbourne so well but if I can get Liss to the South Eastern Suburbs, we'll have a better chance. That side of town I know.

### Chapter 2

TODAY WE HAVE to find water. I think there's a service station somewhere down the road. It's always risky going into places like that; they're almost always cleaned out and they have all these nooks for infected to get stuck in, but it's still worth a try because without water in this heat, well... we'll just die.

We have melted Snickers bars for breakfast, since I figure peanuts are probably the healthiest ingredient we have here... or maybe it's potatoes from the chips. But really that's a tough call.

"Ready?" I ask.

Liss licks the chocolate off her fingers and seems pleased. I used to love chocolate but eating it all the time kind of grinds, especially since I can actually feel the sugar crash now. Ugh.

I open the roller door a crack and lie on the floor, peering out. When I'm happy, I lift it just enough so I can crawl out and survey the area. It's all clear so I beckon for Liss.

I can feel the heat already, it's going to be one of those days: those sweaty, uncomfortable, fatiguing days. We'll need water very soon.

We scale the fence and drop down quietly. There are definitely infected in the area, I mean, we did just see a bunch yesterday... but aside from that they're always out there, even if you can't see them. They might be stuck in a house, or behind a fence... or in a service station. And I bet they see us, even though they can't always get to us.

"How far to go now?" Liss is wearing her oversized aviator sunnies. I can see my reflection in the mirror lenses and it looks pretty scary. Greasy brown hair pulled back into a bun that I haven't taken out all week, tired eyes and dry lips. I look away.

"Definitely less than yesterday," I say.

"Clearly."

Up ahead there's a park in the distance, flat with a few trees dotted in the overgrown grass.

Liss finishes her last drop of water and screws the lid back on. "I'm out," she says.

To me it sounds like she's talking about ammo. Maybe water is as precious as bullets. It's our weapon against dehydration. Wow. With jokes like that I must already be dehydrated and going crazy.

"I need to pee," Liss says.

At least _she's_ not dehydrated. "You know the drill." We operate on a drop your pants and go right next to one another method. Weird, I know, peeing on the nature strip in the middle of the street, right next to my kid sister. It's too risky to go out of each other's sight just for some stupid privacy. And, like almost anything, you get used to it if you have to.

Liss points to a silver water fountain just inside the park boundaries. "Do you think there's any water in there?"

"Good spotting. You want to go check?"

She presses her lips together and stares at me. "You sure?"

I've already surveyed the scene. The park is flat and free of infected people. "Sure."

Liss runs over, constantly looking around. She's becoming more aware and I can't help but smile. It's a good thing. Liss presses the button and water shoots out in an arc, but she backs away, suddenly all suspicious and takes off at a run.

"What is it?" I say, watching her closely when she returns.

Liss is holding her hands out. "There's water but it's no good. There's blood on it."

"Did you touch it?"

"The button yeah, but not the blood." She's breathless from her run but won't drop her hands to her side. "I don't think so anyway."

"Ok." I get the antibacterial wipes, pull one out of the packet and seal it again. "Flip your hands over?" There's no blood. I pass her the wipe and she scrubs her fingers with it.

"Good call," I say. "You can never be too careful."

Liss balls up the wipe and leaves it by a street lamp.

We keep walking, trying to stick to the shade but as the sun moves across the sky it's hard to hide from it.

Liss pushes her sunglasses up the tiny bridge of her nose and says, "It's hot."

Well, thank you, Captain Obvious. "Are you thirsty?" I say.

Liss nods.

"Give me your bottle."

Liss hands it over and I pour some of my water into her bottle. "I'm only doing this because you're my sister. You're my family and we look out for each other." I pass her the bottle and watch her drink. "You don't ever give anyone else your water or food. Ever. Not anyone. Got it?"

She gives me a little soldier salute and screws the cap back on. Up ahead I catch a flash of movement and my senses prickle. I don't need to tell Liss, it's like she can read me instantly. I duck and she copies. We stay crouched, and a lonely infected person wanders across our path. It's an older man, with a potbelly, a stained shirt and business trousers, and a tie flapping in the breeze.

He's not really a threat; he doesn't notice us even though he passes within fifty metres of us. I figure their sense of smell isn't any better than ours, since they started out human. But they can still hear and see movement, so I put our own brand of sign language into use.

First it's the quiet sign: it's pretty universal, straight index finger to lips. Liss copies to show me she understands. Next it's the single-file-and-follow-me sign: two fingers together pointing in the direction I want to go.

We move along, still crouching. It's slow going but our lives are worth it. The single-file-and-follow-me sign completely obliterates the stay-back-while-I-check-the-intersection rule so Liss follows me like a shadow.

It's clear ahead and to the right. To the left is the infected businessman, but he's wandering away with his back to us. There's no point in waiting, where there's one infected there tend to be loads more just around the corner. I reach back and grab Liss' hand and together we creep across the open space.

That's the only infected person we see for the rest of our walk. We pass by the service station but it's been looted like crazy so I don't bother going in. Later in the evening it starts to cool, but only a bit.

We haven't dared speak since seeing the infected man, and that was hours ago. "I think turning in early today's a good idea," I say.

Liss nods.

"You ok?"

Liss fidgets with her backpack straps. "Yeah."

I pick a house on the corner. It has security screens over the windows and doors and not much glass. Those are the safe houses. Liss waits just inside the front fence and I try the door. It's actually locked, dammit, but I really want _this_ house. I check under the mat and round the pot plants. Bingo.

A spare key is under one of the dead plants. It's a win, but then I also know that a locked door sometimes means dead bodies inside and they are spectacularly gross.

I unlock it and step in. It's dark and shadowy and stinking hot. And the smell, it hits me in the face like a fly swatter... that's definite dead body smell. Ew. I pinch my nose with my fingers, and breath from the corner of my mouth so I can't taste it.

The hallway, lounge and kitchen are clear. Off the hallway are three closed doors. And since the infected can't open doors I decide not to check them.

It's strange that this is totally acceptable now, just walking into someone's home, perusing their things, eating their food. The house kind of still looks lived in. Two shirts and a towel hang off the back of chairs, long since dried. Candles sit half burnt. The toaster and kettle are plugged into the wall sockets with switches on. Old crumbs litter the bench while empty shoes stand guard by the back door.

The good thing about this house is the enclosed backyard, and there's a small bungalow out there too.

I go back and get Liss before checking any further. I have another rule that if I have to leave Liss outside it's never for more than thirty seconds.

"Block your nose," I say.

She does it straight away. I swear she was never ever this obedient in normal times.

"Cupboard check. You got it? I need to do a quick check outside."

Liss quietly pulls open the cupboard one by one and I peer out the window. The backyard is small and square and the fence is high. And because it's a corner property, the border runs along the road, so we can always see what's going on out there.

"Got some water," Liss says.

"Nice. Any other drinkable liquids, tins of food, jars, that sort of thing, put them on the bench. I'll be two seconds."

I step out into the backyard and check the bungalow. It's just a small detached room and it's unlocked. The air is musty but it's not warm dead person smell like in the main house, so it seems like a good place to stay.

Liss has done a good job picking out food. We've got baked beans, tinned fruits, a sealed packet of Tim Tams, a two-litre bottle of water and a can of Pepsi.

"You want to eat outside?" I say. "It's safe."

"Yeah," Liss says. It sounds like she's got a cold but she's just blocking her nose from the gross smell.

In the garden we set up on the outdoor table and benches. For some reason Liss likes opening cans. It's just her thing. So she sits there peacefully engrossed in her metal slicing, opening every tin we have. And it's nice to be outside too, almost like normal times. Fresh air and warm sun, hanging out in the garden... nearly feels like freedom. Well, just a tiny bit.

Liss sips the sugary juice from a tin of peaches and I eat half of the cold baked beans. There's a lot to be said for baked beans. Maybe I didn't appreciate them before but it's the one tinned food meal you can eat cold and it still tastes ok.

Liss spears a peach half on her fork. "Hey, Flo..." It's her question voice.

"Mmm?"

"If I got infected, would you kill me?"

Why do kids always ask the hard questions? Next thing I know she'll be asking me where babies come from. "Would you want me to?"

She tries to shove the entire peach half in her mouth but can't quite manage it so she spits it all back into her hand. Again, I wonder how she'd survive out there alone.

"I... maybe. But wouldn't I already be dead?"

I shrug. "Does that mean I shouldn't kill you?" It's weird because I can think of so many times I've said _I will kill you_ in the sisterly way you do sometimes without really meaning it.

"Um... I think... you can decide."

"Ok. And I'll work it out when it happens." But I already know the answer. I'd run away and leave her to roam... then I'd die early from diabetes, eating only chocolate because that's all that seems to survive the apocalypse, and that would be the end of a very tragic story.

For the evening's entertainment we lie on our stomachs on the bungalow roof and play eye-spy from our vantage point. The green tin roof is still warm but we have a nice mild breeze sweeping over our backs.

I'm half way through guessing a word beginning with B when I hear the unmistakable noise of human chatter.

"You hear that?" I whisper.

Liss nods.

"Where?"

Liss checks the to the left and I check right. She nudges me with her shoulder and points.

"Stay flat," I whisper. "And don't move."

We watch like birds of prey as a group of normal uninfected people walk down the street, totally oblivious to us. The man at the front has a shotgun, and the man at the back has a small handgun. Between them there are another ten people. Two kids, six women and two more men. The kids look just a bit younger than Liss, and it looks like they've got mum with them.

It's easy to wonder where they're going, if they might know of any news of a secret cure. But that's a huge group to be looking after, hugely dangerous. I'd never help them... I'd never be _able_ to help them. I can hear them talking from here, so they're just sitting ducks for the infected. I give them a week, maximum. Sad but true.

We watch them until they've disappeared and the chatter is no longer audible.

Liss rolls her two front teeth over her bottom lip and looks at me. "They won't last long."

I'm beginning to think I've trained her too well.

### Chapter 3

LISS IS TOTALLY unmotivated today. I try to wake her but she just groans and rolls over, so I leave her half conscious on the mattress, and go sit outside dividing the water between our bottles. Eventually the heat will drive her out, when it turns the bungalow into an oven.

Since the apocalypse began I haven't been more than thirty seconds away from Liss and that's got to grind on even the most lovey-dovey kind of people. As much as I love her it's nice to have a little alone time.

My arms are looking pretty tanned because it's been too hot to wear my favoured leather jacket. Not in my wildest dreams would I have ever been able to afford it in normal times but the shop I took our matching Doc Marten boots from had one just hanging there, looking all soft and special and maybe slightly badass. Liss was too small for anything and she's mega fussy about her clothes anyway. I mean, she's wearing a dress in the apocalypse... nine-year-olds are so impractical.

Finally Liss wakes and stumbles from the bungalow looking like a cross between lobster and one of the infected.

"Is the princess awake?" I grin.

She blinks at the glaring sun. "She is."

"Would her highness care for some water?" I wiggle the half-empty two-litre bottle in front of her face.

"Her highness would." Liss sits next to me and takes a few big swigs of water. She wipes her mouth. "How far is it now?"

"You're not going to believe this but... it's even less then yesterday."

She gives me this look, like she's trying to glare through her eyebrows.

"I speak the truth."

She rolls her eyes and takes another sip. "Can't we just stay here?"

"Forever?"

Liss nods.

"Sorry, darling pudding pie, but we can't. We've got somewhere to be."

"But _where_ are we going?"

I lean over and poke her in the side. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

She bats my hand away but at least she smiles and then she draws in a long breath, stares at the fence and sighs it all back out.

"Hey," I say, reaching into the front pocket of my bag. "I've got something for you."

Liss looks sceptical but only for a few seconds. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when I show her. It's just a single piece of white chalk. That's all it is to me but to her it's like magic. I have a whole box but if I tell her she'll bug me for it all and I want to make it last.

Liss takes it from my hand, sits cross-legged and starts doodling on the pale concrete. I lie back on the porch and figure we can stand to waste the morning if it keeps her morale up.

After being wrangled into playing hopscotch and noughts-and-crosses about a hundred times each, the chalk stick is almost gone. Liss keeps drawing though, nearly scraping her fingers on the ground and that makes me nervous. Cuts and scrapes are so dangerous around the infected.

"Hey." I chuck the whole box at her, in a nice slow underarm throw, and she catches it like a baseball player taking a dive. "I feel like taking the morning off," I say. "We'll start moving at two."

Liss nods but she's not really paying attention, totally engrossed in covering every bare inch of concrete in some kind of girly drawing.

Today I feel like a good sister.

At two we're all packed up and ready to go. Liss has done a complete turn around; she's all energetic and bouncing again. I'm feeling pretty relaxed too.

The air is nice and quiet, still hot but not as bad as yesterday. Three insanely hot days in a row usually means there'll be a badass storm when the cool change hits. And Liss hates thunder.

In this street the houses are all red brick and single storied. There's a steady breeze buffeting the trees in the yards and it puts me on edge because the sound it makes can mask other things, like scraping feet or creepy breathing: things you definitely want to be able to hear.

We're close to the freeway now too. Tonight is our last stop before hitting those concrete rivers leading us across the city to the other side of Melbourne. There won't be many good places to hole up along the way, except for (hopefully) cars, so we'll have to carry a bit of food with us for the next part of the journey.

Liss is picking a handful of yellow daisies from the nature strip. I think the yellow ones are actually weeds, big huge things with thick stalks. It's the little white ones that are native... if daises are native at all. But the white ones are too delicate for Liss.

There's an intersection ahead so Liss stops. She smells her daisies repeatedly as if they might smell different each time.

I'm not even at the intersection when it happens.

A man comes around the corner, strolling along like he's out for an afternoon walk. He spots me and we both pause, staring at each other. My heart tightens like a fist.

The man is Chinese... or Japanese... some kind of Asian. I suppose it's impossible to tell, like looking at a white person and trying to tell if they're Australian or American or British or something else. There's just no way to know.

Anyway, he's older like late twenties, dressed in a grey t-shirt and black jeans, and carrying absolutely nothing.

Then something totally bizarre happens.

He smiles, nods and gives a tiny wave; like a trifecta of normalness. And he just keeps on walking, without so much as a word, like nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Liss," I whisper, and wave for her to come closer.

She skittles over, watching the man with wide eyes as he passes. He nods to her too and gives a warm smile. Like an honest to God normal one. Not _an I can help you because I'm older but will probably get you accidentally killed_ smile. Not an _oh my gosh I feel so sorry for you girls_ smile. Just a regular _lovely day, isn't it?_ smile.

I put my arm over Liss' shoulder and pull her close, and we watch the man wander off. He walks merrily along the footpath for a while and then stops at a tree, looks up into the branches. Next he crosses the road and raps his knuckles on a nearby mailbox.

"What do you think he's doing?" Liss asks.

I shake my head but say, "Walking, I suppose. Like us."

She looks up at me. "Think he's going to the same place?"

"Mmm, I don't know. Let's keep going."

We check that the intersection is clear together. One day soon I'm going to have to teach her how to do it herself... or rather _let_ her do it. Just, not quite yet because it's more luck than skill really.

A few streets later and we're standing on the corner of a main road, the last one before we turn onto the freeway. This will probably be our last easy day.

I point down the road. "Freeway's close, so we'll find it, then find somewhere to hole up for the night and we can take it on in the morning."

"How far from there?" Liss asks.

"Liss." I breathe in sharply through my nose. "I don't know. You have to stop asking."

"Ball park figure?"

I look across at her. That's another thing dad used to say. "How long is a piece of string?" I say.

Liss tips her head forward and looks over the top of her sunnies. "You sound like mum."

I smile and put my hand on her shoulder. "Main road formation? You go first."

I don't trust these big open roads. It's double lanes either side, a big nature strip in the middle and houses lining the edges. Things can literally come from nowhere, which is why we operate in formation: Liss walks forward and I walk behind her, backwards. That way we have three hundred and sixty degrees of vision. Badass.

As we walk I notice the smell of rain in the air; it's fresh like churned up dirt. That storm must be on its way. "Anything cool your way?" I say in a low voice.

"Oh, you know," Liss says. "Road, more road. Trees, houses. Wheely bins."

"Wow, must be spectacular."

"Yep, what about your way?"

"Well, you're going to be so jealous but there's a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, a unicorn eating candy floss _and_ a jelly filled pool."

"Yeah, right." Liss snorts. "Why don't you ask the unicorn for a ride then?"

"Alright, hang on..." I can't help but crack a smile. "Nah, he says he can't... prior engagement."

"Bummer."

I count the wheely bins we pass to keep track of how far we've gone. The apocalypse must've gone down just before rubbish day, because the street is littered with them. Most are still standing, perched on the nature strip or in the gutter but some are knocked over, spilling recycling and rubbish into the middle of the road.

Liss stops suddenly and we bump backpacks. In the shock I almost curse but manage to keep it in. I spin.

The Chinese man we saw earlier is jogging toward us. I try to read his expression but it's completely blank. There are only two possibilities here. One: he's just working on his fitness (still very important) or two: he's running from infected people.

When he sees us his brow goes straight up and a smile spreads across his face.

This is weird.

I grab Liss' hand and the man stops a few metres from us. He starts making slow swooping gestures with his hands but he doesn't say anything. He frowns and swallows, blinking rapidly and looking around as if the words he wants are hiding somewhere in the street.

I have no idea what he's trying to do.

He lets out a string of Chinesy words in mild frustration and points behind.

I have to admire his perseverance but there's not much chance of us getting it.

He looks up, like he's had a light-bulb moment. "Trouble," he says finally. The R sound comes out as a W when he says it, like he can't quite get his tongue around the pronunciation.

I tense, tightening my grip on Liss' hand. "Trouble like... infected people trouble?" I say, but I'm not really listening anymore, my mind's already switched into defence mode. I'm glancing around, for signs, for exit strategies, for anything. Just in case.

"Trouble..." he says again, nodding. "Trouble."

He turns just as the infected round the corner. Three come from the side street. But it gets worse, from the next side street along, more infected people spill — maybe ten or fifteen in total.

"Ah!" he says with satisfaction and points again. "Trouble."

It's the way their eyes lock onto us that freaks me out more than anything. They get so animated when they're about to feed, flinging their pale shredded arms about and making gross eager moaning sounds. These are full grown adults, men and women, big bodies I'd never be able to take on in a straight human fight let alone an infected one. And there are two short ones. Kids.

I blink and suddenly the faces jump out at me. It's the big group we spotted from the roof of the bungalow. I'd given them a week but they hadn't even made it the night.

I look for an escape but they're so close there's only time for one thing.

"Liss, get in the wheely bin!"

I'm closest to a big one with a yellow lid — a recycling bin. I knock it to the ground and thankfully it's not full. Plastic bottles and cans spill out. I kick them away and dive in headfirst. Liss wiggles in after me and I grab her legs and drag her in.

Her boots kick in front of my face as she pulls the lid down. It's just a flip lid on hinges, not lockable or anything, and there's nothing to grab from the inside to keep it closed, but the plastic capsule is just big enough for us both and I hope it's enough.

My head is scrunched against the plastic sidewall, resting on some half crushed aluminium cans. When the infected people reach us they shake the bin and the cans clatter together like chimes.

Liss screams, lots of tiny short and sharp high-pitched sounds for every thump we get. Her voice echoes in the small space like we're in an underground tunnel. I grab her legs and hiss at her. "Quiet, Liss."

She stops so abruptly I look to make sure she's still breathing. The infected are bumping into the bin, clawing at the black plastic, hammering it with their exposed bones and gnawing at it with their flesh ripping teeth. It's like a constant barrage of rabid dogs, all snapping and snarling and furious. I can see the shadows cross the thin yellow lid by my feet (and Liss' head) but they can't find a way in. Not yet.

It's pretty weird that two centimetres of plastic is separating Liss and me from the most horrific death I can imagine. If the infected get us, we'll be eaten alive. Torn, shredded like cheese on a grater, mushed like mincemeat. Or maybe we'll just get bitten, get their blood in our system and we'll turn into one of them. I'm not exactly sure of the details because I've never watched anyone go from human stage to infected stage. So I don't know if it's quick or slow or painful, or like going to sleep. I've only ever had the pleasure of seeing the aftermath.

If I'm honest, the only reason I'm not screaming and freaking out is because of Liss. I have to be calm, have to think straight, have to fix this situation and get us back to safety. This little rectangular bin is just a tiny pocket of safe time... one that will eventually run out.

Liss is screaming again, this time it's my name.

"Shut up!" is all I can say back.

Suddenly the bin rolls onto its side and I almost crush Liss. Our limbs tangle in a huge mess. The cans shower over my head, clinking in my ears. Liss squirms around and I claw at the smooth wall trying to give her space.

Liss is catatonic now, screaming as if her deafening squeal has some magical power to ward off the bad guys. And now I see why.

Before, the hinges of the lid were above us so it hung down in a closed position. Now we're on our side and the lid's flung open like a door. All I can see is pale bloody hands and infected heads leering in. And Liss' head is in the foreground. Tears flow down her face like waterfalls. Her mouth is open in a scream that's gone on impossibly long.

There's nothing on the inside of the lid to hold, nothing to keep it shut, so Liss is curling around, grabbing at me, desperately trying to get down my end but there's not enough room.

An infected head leans in with its gross pale eyes like lumpy off milk and I boot it in the face. The soft flesh shifts and bends beneath my sole and I boot it again and again, hearing the crunch of breaking bones. I'm kind of kneeing Liss in the process but there are hands clawing at my boots so I just go crazy, kicking out at everything. There's no was I can't fend them off for long like this.

"Liss," I yell over all the noise. "We need to roll the bin again!" My words echo like some kind of epic voiceover for an action film. But there is nothing cool about it. "Rock it. Come on. This way."

I'm still kicking out my legs like I'm on an invisible stair-master. I thump my body against the side of the bin and it rocks gently.

"Again, together! One two three!" We both thump against the side and it leans, teetering on the edge. One of the infected must bump it because it suddenly rolls and the lid slams shut again. Liss is still screaming and clawing at me.

"Liss, stop!" I grab her hands and she starts nodding frantically. "The only way to make them go away is to be quiet, ok? Make them forget we're even here. Deep breaths. In and out."

She's nodding like a jackhammer. Her fingers are pale white, gripping me like a pregnant lady giving birth. Ugh... that's not something I want to think about. I swear the apocalypse makes you think in weird ways.

The infected are still out there, carrying on and making their weird mournful noises, still bumping and falling over the bin, unable to get in. But I feel like we've gained some sort of control, like the frenzy is over, even though we're still surrounded.

I imagine this is what a butterfly feels like, trapped in its cocoon. No wonder it wants to get out so quickly. I want out and I've only been in here for a minute.

There's a big bump against the side and Liss squeezes my hands. I'm not sure how long it'll take for them to lose interest, if they will at all. But it's usually movement and sound that triggers the craziness in them, so my theory is that if we're still and quiet for long enough they'll forget what they were doing and wander off.

After an hour the nudges don't come as frequently but the moaning and clawing is still going on like some kind of freaky heavy metal concert.

I've been trying to remember what the trouble-toting man did. Was he eaten? Did he run? Did he copy us and get in a bin? It'd be a pity if they got him because — and I'm not saying this like I want to be friends with him or anything, but fair is fair — he did warn us. Even if it was only seconds before. Plus, he seems kind of... I don't know. He didn't try to follow us or steal our stuff, but he didn't ignore us either.

Liss is curled over like a seahorse, resting her head on my knees. It's stuffy and sweaty and the longer I sit here the more claustrophobic I feel. I try to keep my mind busy with thinking of an exit strategy. I'm forming a map in my head, of which direction we're pointing, how far from the houses we are and which ones had good fences to climb. I should've been more observant, I should've heard them coming, I shouldn't have spent twenty seconds with the man trying to decipher his Chinese. Dammit. I should just know better.

As if she can hear my thoughts Liss pats me on the thigh like some kind of thank you. I look down and she just stares back.

Another two hours pass and I think I might have either fallen asleep, fainted, or zoned out completely because I can't hear anything anymore, and can't pinpoint exactly when it went quiet. Dead quiet. I look at Liss and raise my eyebrows. "You hear anything?" I whisper.

She shakes her head.

It's going to take a whole truck load of courage to creep out of this bin because the infected people could be anywhere out there. Plus Liss has to go first, and that's my worst nightmare. I don't even know if I'll be able to make her budge. It takes a special kind of courage to climb out into the unknown.

There's a loud tapping on the bin, like someone's knocking on a front door. We both go tense.

"Trouble?" says the voice.

Liss and I look at each other.

The knock comes again, four raps.

"Hello?" I say.

The lid flips open and the Chinese man sticks his face into the opening. He smiles like he's just won the lottery and beckons for us to come out.

"Trouble," he says, and frowns, shaking his head. I'm going to assume that means _no_ trouble.

"Go Liss, get out quick." She wiggles out and I crawl behind her. It's almost dark now. Ugh, there are patches of infected blood everywhere but the street is clear. I grab Liss' hand and look at the man.

He leans down and taps the wheely bin with his finger. "Ah... ha, ha, ha," he says, and then taps his temple and nods.

I have to keep glancing around, I'm so paranoid but he's as relaxed as anything. "Um..." I nod back. "Thanks."

He tips his head and furrows his brow.

"English?" I say.

The man just stares back.

"Chinese?" I point to him. "China?"

He nods and smiles, tapping his palm against his chest. He looks at Liss and does a double thumbs-up. She looks up at me, pale and shaken, not sure what to make of him.

"Well, we'd better be going." I wave goodbye so he'll get the message and he copies, nodding too.

I tug on Liss' hand and we run across the road. I see a house with a small narrow open window down its side. It's totally a bathroom and bathrooms nearly always have locks.

I drag Liss through the garden, through the garden gate and hoist her up so she can look through.

"Clear?" I ask.

"Yep."

"Lock?"

"Yep."

"Going up." I push her and she scrabbles in. I hear a few thumps as she climbs down something, and I step up on the water tap to see in. Liss is by the door, checking the handle.

I throw my backpack through first and then boost myself up and shimmy in. It's a pretty tight fit but not as bad as being crowded into a wheely bin for an afternoon of near death entertainment. We just need to sit in a safe place for a while and process what just happened. Process. Recover. Move on.

I have to do a kind of half handstand on the sink counter and walk myself in. I twist and collapse through. As soon as I'm on my feet I head straight for the door to double check it's locked. I press my ear against the wood and listen. It's quiet.

"Are you alright?" I kneel down to Liss and check her over.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

There's a spot of blood on her back so I take out the antiseptic wipes. Liss looks alarmed.

"Just to be safe," I say, wiping away the blood. Thankfully her skin does the job of protecting her from infection, it's only if it goes in your eye or mouth or a cut or something that the trouble begins. I tuck the soiled wipe beneath the sink in the back corner of the cupboard.

Night is falling and I'm not sure if I'm hot or cold. I close the window and get out my water bottle.

"Who's that man?" Liss asks. Her hands are still trembling at her sides.

"The trouble man?"

"Yeah, Trouble."

"I don't know but he came along at just the right time." I take a few sips of water and Liss copies.

"I think he's nice," she says.

"Hey." I point my finger at her nose. "Stranger danger still applies in the apocalypse."

She nods. "I know. He just seems nice, that's all."

"Lots of people seem nice, but they're not."

A rumble of thunder sounds somewhere in the distance and Liss grabs my arm.

I put away my water, climb into the bath and beckon for her. She lies on top of me and I wrap my arms around her. We both stare up at the ceiling. After a while I reach over for a towel and stuff it behind my head as a pillow.

The lightening flashes in the window, flickering like a bulb in a horror movie. I hug Liss tighter and soon it begins to rain. It sounds like a huge crowd applauding and I imagine it's just for us. I imagine it's all the people who got caught up in this whole outbreak and had to leave, whether they died naturally or became one of those things. I imagine they're all looking down on the world, rooting for the survivors and I just hope that mum and dad aren't up there already. I drift off to sleep feeling, just for a moment, not so alone.

### Chapter 4

I WAKE WITH a crick in my neck, a cold back and Liss as my blanket. I poke her and she grumbles, and then, as if remembering she's in the middle of an apocalypse, her head shoots up.

"Calm down, it's just me."

Liss twists around so she can see my face. "Do we have to go out there today?" It's her whiney voice but I can't blame her after yesterday.

"Yes."

"But they're out there."

"They always are. But haven't I protected you so far?"

She looks away. "Yes."

"And is there any reason to believe I wouldn't keep doing that?"

"No."

"Then we'll keep on." I rub my eyes. "It won't always be like this, Liss. Not forever. Should we get some breakfast?"

Liss climbs out of the bathtub and sits on the sink counter, swinging her legs around. She's watching me like it might be the last time she ever sees me again. My limbs are all heavy... I think that might be an adrenaline thing, or a being shoved into a cramped space thing or maybe a combination of both.

I swear I've had more than a years allowance of adrenaline in one shot yesterday — which, I might add, was super helpful seeing as I was stuck in a bin and couldn't run anywhere. Thanks a lot, body.

"I might have a look around this house, see if there's something to eat." I listen through the door. "I'll go out, you lock the door behind me and listen. When I give you the ok you can open it again."

Liss nods and stands behind the door. We've done this a few times before. I know it's pretty risky going in blind but I didn't hear any movement last night and that's usually a good sign its empty.

"Ready?" I say.

Liss unlocks the door. She pauses, both hands clasping the handle.

I nod and try to look calm. Liss pulls the door open a crack so I can peer through. I give her a thumbs-up and she pulls it open just enough so I can slip out.

The door closes and I'm in a dim hallway, alone. There's a painting on the wall of some fruit, and I can't tell if it's leering at me or just teasing me. I haven't had fruit in _that_ long.

To my right is the front entrance, all closed up, and next to that is an open door with a bedroom behind it. The double bed is still made perfectly, not a crease on it. The décor is a weird brown and pink floral that reminds me of old people. All the photo frames on the bedside tables are face down.

I move on slowly, passing an archway that opens up to the lounge room. This screams old people too: brown shag carpet, reclining chairs and one of those old TV's with the huge backs on them.

The kitchen is next. A big open space with green-flecked benches and a wooden table and chairs in the very middle. All the other doors are closed, so I pop open a cupboard hoping for food, but it's all plates and cups. It's weird how everyone organises their kitchens so differently.

I pull open a load of cupboards, exposing useless pots and pans and crystal wear, when I get that weird feeling like I'm not alone. There's a low guttural growl, like a defensive animal.

I look up slowly, my hand still on the cupboard door.

It's looking at me, standing side on in an open archway that runs from the kitchen to the joined lounge... the only place I didn't check.

When I step into a situation and it goes bad like this, I find the first few seconds are given over to the _oh crap_ response... like I literally say the words in my head, but it's more than that. While I'm standing frozen for those few seconds, my brain goes wild noticing all these random details just before my body has a chance to kick into action. It's like a computer downloading information at super speed.

The infected man's head is twisted towards me, eyes glaring, lips snarling. My old people guess is confirmed. He's wearing a cardigan and brown pants, his face has deep wrinkles and what's left of his hair is a puff of white. He actually kind of looks like a mad scientist, the way his hair sticks out at odd angles.

The infected man and I seem to jump into action at the same time. I back away, pulling out one the chairs, just as he charges. And man, does he come flying, he must hate that I'm in his house. I lift the chair and use it to kind of joust him. We lock together for a moment and he swipes wildly at me. I lean away out of his reach and put all my effort into shoving him back. He stumbles. I throw the chair after him.

I reach into the cupboards, fire some dinner plates at his head, but every single one misses, smashing into the wall. Liss must be freaking out.

I dive under the table as he hurtles toward me, and it's like being in a cell with wooden bars. Mad scientist man reaches in, saliva dripping from his mouth, and I kick out. I crush his hand against his chest. I hear some bones snap but it's not enough. I need to go for the head and I need to go for the kill. This is one I can't run away from.

There's something surreal about fighting an old infected man in his kitchen. It's like a video game and that's the only way I can make sense of it. Like I'm the main character and he's just another pixel-created enemy in my way.

He actually catches my boot and pulls me out a bit, trying to manoeuvre into a biting position. My hand flies back, pushing away the other two chairs and I see it. The perfect weapon is sitting in the cupboard on the bottom shelf.

I slam my hand back, find the handle and fling the frying pan up as the man's head comes down to chew on my leg. It makes an almighty clank and a spray of blood showers across the table. I drop the frying pan and reach for another one, crawling out the other side of the table. This is the part I hate... but it's just like a video game... just a game... no consequences... no laws... no right or wrong. He's not living. He's already dead.

I run around the table and slam the new frying pan into the man's head. He's already reeling from the first hit and this one bends him back over the sink. Now I really go for it, hammering the frying pan against his skull. It makes weird squelching sounds and his hands are having some kind of spasm attacks. On the third whack his head caves in but I keep going until he stops moving. His infected blood drains into the sink, trickling away.

When I stop there's not much head left. Just flesh and bone and bits of brain. I drop the pan in the sink over his mashed head and check my hands. There's a light spray of blood and I grab a tea towel.

I'm still catching my breath when all my senses return. Liss is screaming, banging up against the bathroom door. I know it's selfish but I give myself a minute, standing in the still kitchen, watching my hands shake.

I ditch the bloody tea towel and flick the rest of the cupboards open. I grab a plastic bag and pull out some tins, so fast I don't even look at the labels. When it's half full I go and unlock the front door. Finally I say, "Liss, open up."

The crying stops and the door pops open a crack. Her wide grey eyes are staring out at me. "You're not dead?"

I put my hand on my hip and roll my eyes. "Have you no faith in me, little sis?"

She blinks.

"Backpacks? Lets go."

She throws me my bag and we escape into the front yard. I was going to get her to check the bathroom cupboards for stuff we might need but I decide that the quicker we get out, the quicker I leave it all behind.

"Hang on," I say. The front fence is a decent height so I kneel on the damp grass. "Can you get the antiseptic wipes out? And the can opener."

I feel Liss unzip my backpack and rummage around. She hands me a wipe and I run it all over my hands, in every crevice and sneaky space. I run it under my nails too. Most of the blood is gone already; it's just a precaution. The last thing I need is to wipe my mouth and infect myself with left over blood.

"You want to open us some tins?" I try to hide my shaking hands from Liss.

"What do you want?" she says.

"Whatever. Surprise me." I check over my arms and chest. "How's my face?"

Liss inspects it. "Still needs some work."

"Oh, ha, ha. Any blood?"

"No." She stares at me. "What happened?"

I think of lying but there's no point. "The owner happened. He was in the kitchen."

"But you won?"

"Don't I always?"

Liss hands me a tin of sliced pears and she has some alphabet spaghetti. I load the rest into my backpack, discarding the dog food.

"Lets keep going," I say. "We can eat and walk."

We peer out into the road and when we know it's all clear we stick to the fence line and carry on.

You'd think there'd be loads of jump moments like that in an apocalypse but it's more strung out tension and your imagination making up things. Still it doesn't make up for anything. It still sucks.

I hate being on the streets after such a close encounter. Something in me just believes infected are around every corner, seconds from jumping out. Moving is the best thing I can do right now.

"Hey, look." Liss uses her spoon to point. "It's Trouble."

I look over. It's not more infected, just the Chinese man we seem to be calling Trouble. He's a few houses down, in a front yard doing pull ups on a tree branch.

When he sees us his face brightens and he starts doing the pulls ups one handed so he can wave.

"Show off," I say under my breath.

He comes over to us and does this kind of bow greeting. I don't know a word of Chinese. I can't even remember how to say hello so I just nod. He points in the direction we're going.

"Yep," I say. "That's where we're going."

He nods and steps out onto the footpath.

"Hi, Trouble," Liss says.

Trouble gives her a thumbs-up.

"Ok, well... nice chatting to you. Bye," I say.

Liss and I keep walking. And Trouble walks in the same direction. He jogs a few steps to catch up.

"Ok," I say. "Guess we're going the same way."

"Is he with us now, Florence?"

"No. We're just heading in the same direction."

"Oh." Liss shovels a spoon of pasta letters into her mouth. "Flo, how many pull ups can you do?"

I stare straight ahead and forget to answer. Oh, the joys of having a little sister.

It's weird walking with someone else, let alone someone whose English vocabulary starts and ends with the word trouble. Still if you only know one word in these times it might as well be that one.

### Chapter 5

THE ROAD AHEAD is scattered with abandoned vehicles. There's a huge unmarked truck on its side, and slide marks gouged deep into the bitumen. It's taken out a huge billboard; the pieces now shattered all over the road, mingling with scuttling rubbish: chocolate wrappers, newspaper pages, plastic bags, stuff like that.

We pick our way through the vehicles, cautious and quiet, and Trouble hangs back a bit. Up ahead another truck is broken, split in two by a bus this time, and sports gear spills into the middle of the road like a strange sort of art piece. Trouble jogs over. Liss and I watch him go but we keep moving. We're not a team, we're all just heading in the same direction. And since so far he hasn't asked for anything... I'll allow him to follow us for now.

Trouble comes back with a baseball bat. He lifts it up to show us, and as we're walking he swings the bat and makes a visor with his hand, pretending to watch his imaginary ball fly.

Liss giggles. I haven't heard that sound in... forever. I look back at Trouble. It's like the glittering smile never leaves his face. He just casually strolls through a messed up world, somehow unaffected. Can people be that strong?

We're about to cross under the freeway. The off-ramp is really narrow so I'm steering us in the direction of the on-ramp. I finish my can of sliced pears, juice and all, and leave the tin on top of a car.

Liss tugs on my arm. "I need to pee."

"Yeah me too. Well... go on. You know the drill."

Liss glances at Trouble.

"Oh. Right," I say.

Trouble stops and turns around, the baseball bat slung over his shoulder. He raises his eyebrows as if to say _what's up?_

This is going to be interesting. "Ah... we need to go to the toilet."

A crease forms in his brow.

"Ok," I say, pointing ahead. "You go on. We'll find you." I tap my watch. "In one minute." I hold up my index finger.

Liss is frowning, her head tipped like she's contemplating a solution. "It sounds like you're trying to play hide and seek with him," she says.

"Well, I don't know." I slap my hands against my thighs. "I'm trying."

Trouble glances between us.

"We. Need. To. Pee." Liss says, very slowly, enunciating every word.

"Liss, he's not slow."

"I _know_ that," she shoots back.

"Have you got any chalk left?"

Liss rummages in her bag and pulls out a stick. I take it and start drawing on the pavement.

Liss and Trouble look at it sideways. "What is that?" Liss finally says.

I glare up at her. "A toilet, obviously."

"It looks like a planet. Like Saturn."

"Fine." I give her the chalk. "You draw a toilet then."

Liss scribbles something and when she's done I point to both of us, and then the drawing.

Trouble blinks and then nods enthusiastically. He points to his chest and points away.

"Yes." I nod. Man, this communication thing really keeps you on your toes.

Trouble keeps walking on, slowly, and Liss and I duck behind a car.

When we catch up to Trouble and I steer us to the on-ramp. Here the cars are jammed in so tight we have to clamber over them. I go first, picking out a path that keeps us away from the visible rotting bodies in cars. Liss doesn't need to see that kind of stuff, if it can be avoided.

The on-ramp is long and flowing, closer to the freeway it clears up. The freeway is huge, five lanes across on either side, separated by a double tensioned-wire fence with thick metal posts. We stick to the concrete wall on the left and walk towards the city.

I stay in front and keep an eye out for movement, always making sure I've got a plan if something jumps out at us. Behind I can hear Liss talking to Trouble. He seems very interested in the conversation, always smiling and nodding and making agreeable noises, even though he doesn't understand a word.

I sling my bag around my front and rummage through, looking for the Chupa Chups. I pick out a strawberry-and-cream one and hold out the bag to Liss. We stop while she fusses over the flavours.

"Which one do you want, Trouble?" she asks.

"Liss."

"What? Why can't he have one? It's just a lollypop and we have heaps more."

She's right. We do have more... but I can't have him becoming reliant on us... even if he seems to be a cheery tag along bodyguard for the moment. And I don't remember Liss ever being this generous to me in normal times.

"Fine." I turn the bag to Trouble. "Want one?"

He looks from the bag to me and then does this long bow.

"It's just a lollypop," I say, shaking the bag in his direction.

He takes one and I put the rest away.

It's cooler today, the ground is dark from rain and I'm able to wear my jacket without boiling to death. The sky above is thick with clouds but the glare is still biting. I watch the abandoned cars as we pass and wonder where all these people went. Where did they run? Were they infected, now roaming in packs just looking for a feed?

On the other side of the road are huge factories, all quiet now. The grey tin buildings loom over rough grassy expanses. And on our side is one of those noise blocking concrete walls with a strip of bright green plastic at the top.

I see movement up ahead so I drop down behind a car and signal to Liss. She stops and crouches. Thankfully Trouble copies. He seems to only have two expressions: super happy or super confused.

I give Liss the quiet sign and we peer up through the car windows. On the other side of the divider, three infected people lumber along, heading away from us. I look back at Trouble to see what his reaction is but he's just watching quietly, the baseball bat sitting loosely in his hand. All we can do is wait until they pass.

It makes me wonder where exactly these infected people are going. They're dead right? There's no food in sight... so what drives them? Are they like little heat seeking missiles that can't stop until they find a target?

They pass our point and when their backs are to us I signal to Liss: single file and follow me.

I keep low this time, in case there are more. We creep along the concrete in silence. To my surprise Trouble copies us perfectly. He hasn't done anything crazy or reckless yet and I kind of just wish he just would already, so we can get over whatever this little thing is, this teaming up buddy-buddy thing. Sooner or later everyone lets you down. I'd rather it be sooner in this case. Before Liss gets too attached.

My back is aching after two hours of crouch walking. We haven't seen any more infected people so I stand up straight. My spine cracks and I stretch my shoulders. Liss starts talking at Trouble again.

At six o'clock I stop walking and stare at the orange sun. It'll start getting dark at seven, so if we find a car to sleep in then we can have dinner and be tucked away nice and safe by nightfall.

Liss stands next to me. "Which one?" she asks.

The ones on the edge are more favourable for a good getaway, in case we need to escape fast. I wander up to a blue... something... I'm not really a car person and I don't recognise the badges on this one. But it's big and roomy and free of dead bodies so I open the doors on our side to air it out. "What do you think?" I say. "Home away from home?"

Liss nods her approval. "I'm hungry." She takes off her backpack and sits cross-legged on the side of the road. Trouble sits down too and I take off my backpack, scanning the distance. Just before I sit down I realise I'm about to complete this mini circle, and it feels like I'm back at high school, sitting with friends in the yard. I pull out the plastic bag of tins and Liss picks through them.

"What do you want, Flo?"

I look over and pass her the can opener. "Um... I'll have the... ooh, baked beans with mini sausages."

"What would you like, Trouble?"

"Liss..."

Liss gives me a stern look. "He needs to eat too. It's not like we paid for this stuff."

I glare back thinking I almost paid with my life, but I lift my hands in defeat. "Whatever."

"Ravioli? Peas?"

"Give him the peas."

"Good choice. And I'll have the corn."

Liss sets about opening the cans. She hands Trouble the peas first but he looks shocked and shakes his head. He points at Liss.

"This is mine and that's Flo's." She points at him. "This is for you."

Trouble looks over at me like he's asking for permission, so I nod.

Reluctantly he takes the peas but when the can is in his hand he starts smiling and bowing and nodding like there aren't enough movements he can do to thank us.

Liss giggles. I shake my head and put some beans in my mouth to cover my almost smile. We eat in silence for a while, since Trouble isn't much of a conversationalist and Liss is too busy shovelling sweetcorn into her gob.

When she finishes she says, "I like corn."

"I didn't notice." I find one of those little pretend sausages swimming in the baked beans mix. "Want a sausage?"

Liss leans over and eats it right off my spoon. "So..."

I know that tone.

"Didn't I tell you to stop asking how long it'll take?"

Liss pouts and crosses her arms. "Did you like your peas, Trouble?" Liss points at the peas and gives him a thumbs-up.

Trouble breaks into a wide smile and replies with a thumbs-up.

"How come he smiles a lot?" Liss asks.

I shrug. "Because he wants to."

"How come you don't?"

Ugh. Kids. "Because I don't want to."

"Ok."

The sky dims a shade, like a dying florescent light bulb. Trouble takes something out of his back pocket and opens the box. It's a pack of playing cards. He shuffles them quickly and looks at us both. He fans the entire pack out and holds them towards Liss. She looks at me.

"Go on." I say. "Pick one."

Liss furrows her brow and deliberates over the choice. Finally she removes one and looks at it. I lean in to see. It's the ace of hearts.

Trouble nods at both of us then takes the card back. He slips it into the pile and splits the deck in two, doing one of those crazy fan shuffles. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, waves his hand over the deck like he's doing magic and then offers the pack to Liss again.

She looks across at me. I shrug. Liss picks up the top card and slaps her hand over her mouth. She puts the card in my face. Ace of hearts, again.

"Whoa," I say, leaning in for a proper look. "No way."

"How did you do that?" she asks, like he'll just be able to respond.

Trouble smiles so wide I think his face will split in two. Liss slaps the ground with quiet excitement and laughs. "Did you see that Flo?"

"I did."

"It's magic!"

I pull a smile. "Should we teach him something?" I hold out my hand and Trouble passes the cards. I split them into three even piles and hand them out. "We'll teach him snap."

Liss gives me one of those _are you mad?_ looks. "Everyone knows snap."

"Yeah but I bet it's not called snap in Chinese, is it?"

Liss and I win the first couple of games until Trouble picks up on how to play. And man is he fast. Though I see him let Liss win a few games every now and then. She squeals with delight and Trouble laughs with a deep happy laugh. And I glance around to make sure we're not attracting any unwanted attention.

We play until we run out of light and then Liss and I retire to our blue car. She stretches out on the back seat and I recline the front passenger seat as far as it goes. Trouble is in the red Honda behind us.

I tilt the rear view mirror so I can see into the back seat. Liss looks peaceful, like she's forgotten all about this apocalypse business. I lay my head back and watch the twinkling stars out the window until I fall asleep.

### Chapter 6

MY HEAD IS grainy this morning. Maybe I haven't had enough water or I'm sugar crashing or... hey, I know, maybe it's too much of this apocalypse bull. I hug my arms closer. Light bleeds into my retinas and I see Liss and Trouble sitting on the car bonnet outside. Liss' hair seems to sparkle in the sunlight and Trouble has his trademark smile. They're eating... holy shit.

Ok, that didn't come out right. They're eating apples. I know back in normal times it wouldn't seem so amazing but now anything remotely fresh is like your favourite food times a hundred. Not from a tin!

When I pop the car door open they both turn. Liss takes a huge bite and the crunch echoes out.

Trouble hands me one, and I look down. A green apple streaked with red and white. Somewhere in my head a choir starts up. "Uh..."

"It's good," Liss says, with her mouth full.

"Yeah, thanks." I take the apple from Trouble and smile. "Where'd he get them from?"

Liss shrugs. "He's magic."

I look down at the apple. Before the outbreak I never liked fruit. Well, that's not true, maybe it was just that there were so many better foods, like chocolate and chips and stuff, that I didn't have time for fruit. But now, looking at this thing I once had but didn't want, it makes me think about all the other things I had but didn't want at the time. Mum, dad, Liss, fruit, vegetables, fresh water, the ability to go outside without fear of dying. Now all I want is the apple, and Liss and mum and dad too. Screw TV and computers and school and work. Before, I had everything and didn't care; now I have nothing and this damned apple is everything.

"Florence..."

"Mmm?" I look up and realise they're both watching me with anticipation. So I take a bite. The sweet juice explodes in my mouth, re-igniting every taste bud that my poor apocalypse diet has managed to paralyse. "It's good," I say, chewing.

That's an understatement. Remember that choir? Quadruple it, add a bass and strings section, hook up the amp, wind that volume dial all the way up and you're about half way there.

I eat every part but the stalk and then put the seeds in the front pocket of my backpack... just in case I ever get the chance to grow an apple tree one day. The sun dips behind a thick grey cloud and a shadow falls over us.

"How old do you think Trouble is?" Liss asks, staring at him as if he's a statue and not a real person.

"Liss, if you stare too hard your eyes will turn into lasers and then... you know, bad stuff happens to the people you look at."

She looks over at me.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" I scratch my thumbnail against a blemish in the car's paintwork.

Liss narrows her eyes at Trouble. "How old are you?"

Trouble tips his head but says nothing, for obvious reasons. Liss scratches her head, then she points to herself and hold up nine fingers.

Trouble blinks.

Liss points to me and holds up ten fingers, followed by six.

Liss points to Trouble.

For a moment I think he doesn't get it but then he flashes two tens and a seven with his fingers.

Liss gives a triumphant smile. "He's twenty seven."

"Where did you learn to count so well?" I say, and a smirk curls my lips. Liss sticks her tongue out.

I feel the rain before I see it, and lift my nose skyward. "Feel that?"

"Feel what?" Liss looks around.

"It's raining."

Liss furrows her brow. "No it's not."

"Yes it is."

"Is not."

"Is."

"Not."

Deep breaths. I am the mature one here. A raindrop hits the windscreen, followed by another and another. They start catching on Liss' hair.

"Now it's raining," Liss says, holding out her palms.

I swear my eyes must be the fittest part of me, with all this eye rolling that gets done.

We take shelter in the car. Trouble sits in the driver's seat, I'm in the front passenger seat and Liss is lying across the back seat, watching the rain drip down the windows.

The rain on the metal roof sounds like static. I stare at the dashboard for a while. Boredom makes my mind wander.

"Hey Liss," I say. "What radio station you want?"

Liss sits up and scratches her chin. "But they don't work anymore."

"Really?" I press the radio button and look back. "In other news today... Liss finds out she's wrong."

Liss stares for a moment and then smiles. "In further news," she says, putting on her deepest adult voice, "Florence is an idiot."

"Oh hey, I think I hear a song coming on." I twist the volume dial and sing, "There is a girl, a girl called Liss, the one the boys all want to kiss."

"Ew gross." Liss scrunches up her face but amusement twinkles in her eyes.

I keep singing. "But she turns around, says go away, I don't do boy germs, hey, hey, hey."

Liss leans forward grabbing both our seats. "See if there's something on for Trouble."

"China FM?" I say, fiddling with the dial. "Hang on. Yep, here it is." I point with both hands at Trouble. "Take it away, Trouble."

He blinks back at me.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

Suddenly he starts clapping out a beat that's like one, two, cha-cha-cha. Liss claps along in time and when I finally join in, Trouble breaks into song. I can't understand the words but it sounds like a Chinese boy band song. Soon he's busting out crazy actions with it. Liss is rolling around in the back laughing her head off and Trouble really gets into his act.

I tip my head back and laugh.

For the finale Trouble holds the last note until he runs out of breath and then he bows. Liss jumps up in the back. "Bravo!"

Trouble nods and we give him a round of applause.

As the noise dies down something else catches my attention. I swear it's singing. "Shh," I say, doing the sign too for Trouble. "You hear that?"

Liss looks around. "Yeah, sounds like someone singing. Is the radio working?"

I press my ear to the speakers but it's not coming from the car. It's growing ever louder. I wind the window down a crack and the voice floods in. It's a male voice... no, two male voices.

"What is it?" Liss says.

We all press up against the windows, peering out the rain blurred glass. I see movement and point. "There."

It's on our side. All I can see is umbrellas bobbing along, and before I can stop her Liss winds her window all the way down.

"Liss, no!" I hiss at her, but she leans out the window anyway and calls out.

All that training literally goes out the window.

"Hey!" she yells.

The bobbing umbrellas stop, and so does the singing. One of the dark brollies lifts and I can see the person underneath. A teenage boy. And it looks like he's pushing a wheelchair. I wind down my window all the way, doing a quick scan of the entire area.

"What are you doing?" Liss asks.

The boy looks at her and then at me. The reply comes from under the front umbrella but the face is hidden. "Singing... clearly."

Liss glances over at me. "Why?" she says.

The front umbrella tips back and I can see the kid is pretty young, like Liss. "Just because," he says. "What are you doing?"

I mean, what are the chances of finding two apocalyptic survival parties singing at random?

"Aren't you worried about getting wet?" Liss says.

The older boy speaks back this time. "I think that's the least of our worries."

"You can say that again." I've said it before I can stop myself. Curses. Never speak to other people. Never, never. But then again I've never really spoken to Trouble and look what happened there.

"Why are you in a wheelchair?" Liss says.

"Liss!" The girl has no boundaries, I swear.

The young boy looks back. "My legs don't work."

Liss looks at me. "Then how does he run?" she whispers. "How does he hide?"

I shrug. Honestly that's got to be a miracle. I don't know how he's made it this far into the outbreak. I mean, he's in a wheelchair! That's ninety nine times more difficult than just looking after a kid. I look at the older boy; he must be one hell of a fighter... or just smart. But then wandering along a freeway, singing at the top of his voice with infected all around doesn't seem like a logical thing to do. I suppose luck plays a part.

Suddenly they're walking over to us.

"Nice car," the older boy says.

"I'm Liss."

"Oh my God, Liss, do you not listen to a thing I say?"

Liss looks over. "What?"

"I'm Henry," the boy in the wheelchair says. "And this is my brother, Kean."

"That's my sister, Florence. She doesn't like people."

Suddenly the car starts vibrating. My head snaps over to Trouble. He's bent over in the foot well. When he sits back he gives me a thumbs-up. The lights flash up on the dashboard. He's started the car. Holy crap.

"You guys want a ride?" Liss says.

"Liss!" I say in my most reprimanding voice. "Oh my God!"

And suddenly I feel like I've lost control of everything. This is not good.

The boys look at each other and shrug. "Sure, why not."

Liss pops open her door and slides across. Henry jumps himself up onto the back seat and shuffles into the middle.

Kean folds up the wheelchair, stows it in the boot then comes around and sits in the back, directly behind me.

"You shouldn't be so trusting," I say, twisting around as the car begins to move. "We might be serial killers."

"Are you?" Henry asks.

I turn away, facing forwards. "Well, No."

"Too bad. I reckon they'd do well now, killing the creepies and all."

"Creepies?" Liss says.

"The infected people."

"Oh."

Trouble is watching the boys in the rear view mirror.

"And this is Trouble," Liss says, pointing. "Trouble, this is Henry and Kean."

"Trouble?" Henry says. "That's a weird name..."

Trouble glances over his shoulder and smiles a big cheesy grin.

"Uh... yeah, it's kind of a nickname," I say. "He only knows one word of English."

"Oh, I get it," Henry says, nodding. "Smart. Of all the words to know, it's a good one."

Kean looks baffled. "How do you communicate with him?"

"How do you keep a kid in a wheel chair alive in the apocalypse?" I counter.

His eyes move to me. "True."

"You can say it." Henry butts in. "I'm a cripple."

Everyone goes quiet.

" _What?_ " he says. "It's what everyone's thinking. I'm just getting it out there. You should know though, I can't move my legs but it's like my brain is a hundred times smarter because of it. You know how blind people can hear like superheroes? Yeah, it's kind of the same thing."

I look over my shoulder at Kean. "He talks a lot."

"I know." Kean looks at his brother and smiles back at me. "Why do you think we were singing? It's the only peace I get."

"I'll give you peace." Henry punches Kean in the shoulder. "A piece of my fist."

Kean grins. "I think you're just excited to be sitting next to a girl."

Henry punches Kean again, hard.

"We don't do boy germs," I say.

"Good," Henry says, getting a noogie from Kean. When Kean pulls back he looks at me.

His eyes are faded green and his nose is freckled. His dark blonde hair is so greasy; it looks like he tried to make it a mohawk with his hands, and it's actually stuck in a perfect point like it's full of styling gel.

"Where you heading?" Kean asks.

"It's a secret," Liss says.

I suck in a breath and force it out like a snorting angry bull. Kean is still staring at me. "You're not going home are you?" He swaps a quick glance with his brother. "Everyone makes the pilgrimage home and they always end up getting everyone killed."

I narrow my eyes. "We're not going home."

"Where then?"

"The South Eastern Suburbs."

"Why?"

"You can't half tell you're brothers," I say.

Henry snorts a laugh. Kean smiles, pulls up the hood of his jumper and leans back. I turn back to Trouble and watch him navigate around some cars. The windshield wipers give us a second of good view followed by three seconds of blurred mess. On the next swipe I see an infected and Liss screams. We flash past and it's gone again.

I look back at Liss and nod. She nods in reply.

"Looks like we hitched a ride just in time then," Henry says.

I look up in the mirror. "What would you have done, running into one?"

He shrugs. "Roll away, very fast."

"Have you run into many?" I ask Kean.

"A few." He nods but doesn't elaborate; he doesn't have to. I can see it all in his eyes, like they're playing me a movie of all the moments he can't mention: all the bodies and gore and blood and destruction. I look away, and wonder if Liss sees stuff like that in my eyes.

### Chapter 7

THE CAR IS quiet for a while and it's weird. There are five people in this car. I know I said never work with anyone else, but if Trouble wasn't here, Liss and I would still be walking, battling infected people because I can't drive. I never even had the chance to test for my learner's license; I had an appointment but now it's lost in a dead computer system. And I guess it's the same for Henry and Kean. If they didn't get into the car they'd be back there, battling creepies.

I mean, even as older siblings, there are some things we just can't do. We're not perfect, but I'm pretty sure we'll die trying to be. I'm not coming around to this teamwork thing at all. No Way. I'm just saying, I can see the merit in people with different skills helping each other out for short periods of time.

The road slopes upward and we wind our way through abandoned cars, onto the Westgate Bridge. The city centre seems to rise up out of the rain mist and everyone looks out the left side windows.

Tall black suicide fencing shades our view. Apparently in normal times this bridge used to be some kind of pilgrimage for people trying to kill themselves. So many people jumped from its ledges, that after a while they just became tiny articles that everyone skips over in the middle of the newspaper, if they even made it to print at all. It wasn't until a little girl was thrown over the side that they finally put up railings to stop anything like it happening again.

Skyscrapers prick the gloom like needles. Some of them are just skeletons of blown out glass. One building is toppled, leaning onto another, smoking from somewhere deep in its torn belly. The white frame of the half dismantled Melbourne Eye Ferris wheel is still there, never to be completed, I guess. It's far in the distance by the Bolte Bridge, almost non-existent. But I know it's there.

The river below is green and swirling slowly. Out the other side, Port Phillip Bay stretches all the way to the horizon. Shipping containers are littered across the yard and a half sunk ship moves gently with the sea.

There's a tiny racetrack with a sign that says _no speed limit_. It's kind of funny because there are no rules anymore. No speed limits. No one saying this is right and this is wrong. They're just ghosts of the old world, because if people can get infected by a disease that makes them want to eat everyone else, well... what's impossible now?

Trouble lifts his hands off the wheel and then grabs on again. He looks at me and the car shudders. "Ah..." He tips his head and stares at the dash. "Trouble," he says.

It's my turn to look confused.

Kean leans over. "Are we out of petrol?"

The car gives a final cough and goes quiet, but we keep sailing along on a wave of momentum.

"Yep. We're out," Kean says. "We can keep rolling as far as we can."

"Uh, no. We can't," I say, gripping the dashboard. In front of us, dotted through a mess of cars, are a whole lot of infected people.

"Oh, crap," Henry says. "We'll be sitting ducks."

We're touring down off the bridge and my brain clicks into gear. Somehow I have to communicate what I need to Trouble.

I look at him.

He looks at me.

I reach into my bag and pull out the siphon. "Which side's the fuel cap?"

Everyone twists around, peering out the windows. "My side," Kean says.

I tap the speedo dial at twenty km/h. "Slow," I say.

Trouble is smart. He may not speak English but he picks up what I'm saying so quick, like we're forming our own kind of language. He pulls the brakes gently and we slow to a crawl, sneaking quietly into crowded territory.

"Ok. We need petrol, so..." I hold up my fists and look at Trouble. There are two cars ahead and I want him to slot ours in between them. I point to the cars and he looks over. Then I manoeuvre my hand into the gap between. And finally I just point eagerly out the window and hold up the siphon.

Trouble looks down the side of his seat and I hear something click. He's opened the petrol cap, so I assume he gets what I'm trying to do. We'll see soon enough. The road is levelling out. We're almost off the bridge.

Liss grabs my shoulder and whisper-shouts, "Florence, you can't go out there." She grapples at me, trying to get a grip, like her little bony hands are strong enough to hold me down. I just keep my eyes on the car I want.

"Flo, don't," she says. "You can't. Don't."

Everyone else is silent. We're barely rolling at a walking pace now. I tighten my grip on the siphon and hover my other hand over the door handle. I can't tell if I'm shaking because I'm scared or because Liss is clawing at me. My heart's pumping like an automatic weapon. No time to think. No time for words.

Just before Trouble slides our car in between the other two, I slip out. Great plopping raindrops smack into my face and I tap my door, so it closes with a muffled humf sound. The car rolls away, slotting perfectly between a silver Ford and a dark blue... something else. I'm not really worried about that one. I'm aiming for the Ford.

Rain covers the eerie silence. I hunch down and scuttle to the Ford, my fingers slipping over its shiny silver body. The fuel door thingy is already open but the cap is in place.

Once, a very long time ago, my dad took us to this circus. We were just about to leave but the car wouldn't start. Out of petrol, he said. Anyway, he had some tube in the back of the car. He went to the next car over, popped open the petrol hatch thing and unscrewed the cap. With the stealth of a ninja he did the same to ours and plunged the tube into the strange car. I remember watching him with my nose pressed up against the glass; mum was huffing in the front seat and silently screaming at him to stop. Dad actually put his mouth over the tube and then petrol started coming up and out. He spat out the liquid and then jammed the other end of the tube into our car. And hey presto, we had fuel again.

I unscrew the Ford's petrol cap, and the words _please be full, please be full_ run through my head like I've forgotten every other word that exists. Rain presses down on my hair and splatters on the bitumen. I want to look around but I won't. I have to focus.

This siphon has a jiggler on the end so I don't have to get a mouthful of petrol like dad did. I jam the metal end into the Ford, slip the other end into our car and start to jiggle it. I can hear petrol sloshing about in the tank and the metal bit clanks against the sides but nothing comes out. I could kill this siphon, if it wasn't an inanimate object.

I shake it harder and I can just see the yellowy petrol rising but it's not enough. I can't get the flow going. And then a creepy moan sounds. Close. Too close. My heart stops. An infected lady is just coming round the backside of the Ford.

I hit the floor, grabbing the siphon as an after thought, and slither on my stomach backwards underneath our car. The lady stops right where I was, her gross decaying bare feet point in my direction. I close my eyes for a few seconds, rivers of rain break around me on the cold road, and I just hope everyone in the car is down and out of sight.

I see her ankles tour around the other side of our car and I look down at the siphon. That damned metal part has to come out so I can use it as a tube. I check back on the infected lady's progress and see more ankles, more feet, coming my way. Oh God.

I grab the metal bit in my teeth and try to pull it out. I chew on the clear plastic tube hoping to bite off the end. The patter of bare flesh on the road creeps toward me.

Why is it that whenever you do anything under extreme pressure it's like the faster you try to go the more mistakes you make? My fingers are wet, shaking and slipping like my brain and my body aren't talking to each other anymore. The metal bit is coming loose in my teeth, but not fast enough. I look back again. Oh crap.

I don't care if my teeth are ripped out in the process, this stupid jiggler thing is coming off. I grip and yank.

The tube flies out, smacking against the road. I freeze. Just for a second, then spit out the metal part.

The area behind the cars is clear but those infected are still wandering in my direction, so this has to be quick. I slither out, rise to my knees and jam the tube into the Ford, pretending it's a straw. It happens quicker than I thought and petrol spurts everywhere. I jam the other end into our car, and spit the fuel from my mouth, feeling like a fire breather. The yellow liquid flows through into our tank.

The moans are so close I don't even bother to look up; I dive straight under the Ford, and wiggle all the way under. The Ford is lower and the metal work presses up against my back. I keep shuffling so I can watch the siphon. White, peeling feet slap against the concrete everywhere. Left, right, front and back. There's no clear ground anywhere.

I can't get back in our car from here; it's wedged too tightly between the Ford and the blue one. I can't signal the other guys either. So there's only one option.

The liquid in the siphon tube starts to bubble, turns to whitewash and the tube clears. Hopefully that's enough petrol to get us out of this mess. I want the siphon back but I can't quite reach it. I slide around to get enough space to move my shoulder, trying to be quiet but my jacket is making tiny scraping sounds.

Around me the feet keep on marching. When they pause, I pause too. And when they move again, so do I.

At last I reach the siphon. When I pull it out petrol dribbles down the sides and I awkwardly manage to replace our fuel cap. I don't know if it has to be on but I'm taking no chances. Well, no _more_ chances.

My hands are covered in petrol and it's weird; icy cold and slimy to the touch. I can't click the cover back in place. I'm not brave enough because I just know that the noise will be the sound that signals to the infected people. I drop down and commando crawl to the front of the car.

I don't know what's going on with the other guys in our car. I'm kind of surprised Liss isn't screaming. Should I be proud that she's being brave or hurt that she's not terrified for me? For some reason I imagine them all sitting safely in the car, playing cards, while I lie stuck under this car, risking everything.

I can see the full bodies of infected people now, wandering in a scattered formation, moving around cars and heading on. A few in front are wandering in small circles and that's not good for me. I'm poised, waiting for a break and mapping out a getaway path, but everything keeps changing. They move and shift and gather in small groups.

My hands are vibrating against the road. The car feels like it's lowering against me, crushing everything. Or maybe that's because I'm trying to get more air in my lungs.

A gap opens up. Infected people move to the left and right, creating a straight path, if I clamber up onto the yellow car and go right over.

That's it.

I wiggle out, jump to my feet and bolt with everything I've got.

The infected see me right away. The moans and groans follow me, rising with excitement.

Each stride I take feels like an earthquake, and everything shifts into slow motion. The rain falls over me as I sprint. Legs and arms pumping, I leap up onto the car bonnet in front. I lose my footing on the slippery paintwork and use my hands to propel myself up onto the roof. Decaying fingers brush at my boots and I have about a second to map out the next part of my getaway.

I slam across the boot and then down to the road and swerve left. I cut between two cars and shift right, narrowly missing a side mirror with my hip.

Behind me I hear an engine start and I duck under the belly of a sideways truck. Now I have to push even harder. The road ahead is clear of vehicles and I can hear the car speeding up to me, but infected people swarm to me like moths to a light.

It's become a life and death game of Bull Rush, but instead of tagging me and sending me to the sideline, the infected will just eat me. Game over. At least school did prepare me for _something_.

I duck left, almost catching a clawing arm to the face. The infected spins and topples as I flash past. I cross into the next lane and surge on. God, they're everywhere. I reel back as one comes flying across me, and then I launch myself over his fallen body. Where's that damned car already?

It flashes past on my right and the back door flings open. The pace is too quick for me; I'm tired, falling back, loosing hope. The car slices across the road sending up a rooster tail of rain spray and I see Kean leaning out, holding the door open. He's beckoning to me like I've got some magic ability to run as fast as a speeding vehicle.

The brake lights flash and suddenly I'm at the car so quick I almost run straight into the door. At the last second I propel myself sideways and Kean grabs me.

Trouble floors it and the engine roars. There are hands everywhere, pulling me in, legs poking in every direction. My face is pressed against fabric and cushion. I kick my legs in and the door slams shut, muting the rain and the moans.

Someone's talking. It sounds like chanting. For a moment it's unfamiliar and then I realise it's actually me, just repeating _oh crap, oh crap, oh crap_. My hand is still clutching the siphon. I'm lying over Henry, and Kean is hunched over me in the mess of the backseat. I'm soaked.

Liss is up front with Trouble; she's gripping the seat staring back at me. My mouth is all gross and slidey like it's full of spicy dishwashing liquid. But I'm alive. We're alive.

And the rain is still applauding for all of us.

### Chapter 8

"THAT WAS INTENSE," Henry says, shuffling over.

I twist around so I'm sitting upright and hold myself up on the front seat headrests. Trouble reaches over and pats my hand as he drives. Liss still hasn't formed any words.

Trouble swerves right and I fall against Kean. "Sorry," I say.

"You don't have to say sorry, ever. That was... incredible. You just saved all our lives."

I shrug. "Your turn next time."

Kean cracks a half smile and looks at me strangely. I look down at my hands, inspecting them for scrapes and cuts but they seem good.

"Liss, can you pass me my bag?" I shove the siphon tube into the backpack and take out an antiseptic wipe because now I'm in an enclosed space, the stench of petrol is making my head fill with butterflies. Everyone is watching me. "What?" I say.

Everyone averts their eyes, except Liss. "Are there any Chupa Chups left?" she asks.

"Um..." I rifle through and pull out the plastic bag. Exactly five left. I pass her the packet so she can have first choice.

"You can have the last watermelon," she says, holding out the lollypop to me.

I stare at her but keep wiping my hands clean. "Watermelon is your favourite."

"I know." She jabs it toward me, waving it in my face. "Take it."

My eyebrows arch, but I take it anyway. Liss passes around the packet and then starts unwrapping one for Trouble, since he's driving. She kneels on the seat and leans over, putting it straight into his mouth.

Trouble smiles and nods and gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up. And that makes me smile. Liss slumps back into her seat and stares out the window.

"I'm starting to like him," Kean says, nodding at Trouble. "What's his deal?"

"As far as I can tell," I say, "he's a Chinese baseball-playing stunt-driving card-shark with a knack for finding apples."

"Huh." Kean puts his Chupa Chup back in his mouth and stares at me for a few seconds before looking out the window.

I shove the antiseptic wipe into the old Chupa Chup bag and leave it in the foot well. For some reason I glance over at Henry's legs. He notices instantly.

"How come they don't work?" I ask. I can't believe I just said that. It's like shock has numbed my politically correct sensor. "Sorry."

Henry grins. "I don't care. It was like maybe um... two years ago, yeah Kean?"

Kean nods and looks back out the window.

"It was at Christmas. My family was up at Echuca and there was this swimming hole with one of those big swings that starts at the bank and then you swing out and jump into the water. Well, Kean had already done it and it was my turn. So I swing out, soar through the air and drop straight onto this log. You couldn't see it, just under the surface. I fell funny, broke my back and they haven't worked since."

"That's awful," Liss says, leaning her cheek on the seat rest.

Henry shrugs. "Don't need legs to play computer games."

"Need working computers and electricity, though," Kean says.

Henry waves his hand. "A minor blip. Besides, I don't need them when I've got you for entertainment, Kean."

Kean grins and the brothers clink Chupa Chups together like they're doing a cheers with glasses.

Liss looks at me, but the scene beyond the windscreen distracts me. Trouble slows down and stops.

Since he doesn't actually say trouble I assume it's not life threatening. It's not like a hundred infected people are circulating outside our windows. It's just that a fallen truck blocks all five lanes of the Burnley Tunnel. We'll have to go on foot. Foot and wheelchair wheels.

Beyond the truck it's perfectly dark. A huge unexplored cave.

"Is there a way round?" Henry says.

Kean chews the last of his lollypop. "Not unless you want to go for a swim."

"See what I mean?" Henry looks at me. "Pure entertainment."

"Trouble doesn't seem worried," Kean says.

But I'm worried. It's a few kilometres of pitch back in there, bound to be filled with infected. And we have a kid in a wheelchair. "There's a raised ledge on the right hand side, maybe wide enough for his wheelchair."

"Just say wheels," Henry says. "It sounds cooler."

"It's pitch black in there," I say. "If we get stuck..."

"I've got umbrellas and a lighter," Kean says, taking up the slack where my words trail off. "What weapons have you got?"

I blink. "We don't really have any."

He glances across with a furrowed brow but says nothing.

"Although, Trouble has a baseball bat. We've got flammable aerosol and a lighter, so we can get blasts of light."

Kean nods.

"We're actually doing this... aren't we?" Henry says, shaking his head.

"Just think of it as one of your games," Kean says.

We jump out and I shoulder my backpack. Kean whips out the wheelchair and sets it up for Henry. Liss follows me as I walk up to Trouble. He's already got his bat out.

"Here's the plan, Trouble. We..." I point to everyone. "Are going in there. Single file." Liss jumps in behind me and we walk along showing him. He doesn't do anything, just watches with sharp eyes. "Up along that walkway." I point and then do a thumbs-up to see if he understood any of it.

Trouble grins and lifts his bat up.

"Yep, good. I think he kind of gets it."

Trouble keeps scanning for... well... trouble. Liss and I stand at the tunnel entrance, peering in, as Henry and Kean roll up.

"Liss, can I have the deodorant and lighter?"

She rummages about in her pack.

"Who's going first?" Kean asks, pushing Henry out of the rain.

Trouble leaps up onto the walkway and looks down at us, waiting.

"Guess that's settled," Kean says.

"Liss can go second, I'll follow. Henry and you can bring up the rear?"

"Alright," Kean says. "So Trouble's got a bat. You're in charge of light. Liss, do you want an umbrella?"

I answer for her. "No, she doesn't."

"Then an umbrella for Henry, the tyre iron for me and we're set."

To get Henry up onto the platform Trouble lifts him out of the chair and pulls him up, then me and Kean lift the wheelchair and roll it onto the concrete. I help Liss up, and me and Kean follow, shuffling around into our positions.

Trouble is looking at me for the sign to go.

I look down our line and then into the pitch dark. "We'll go straight through. It's going to dip down and then when it starts rising again we'll know we're on the home stretch. If there are infected in there hopefully they won't be able to reach, us as long as we stay against the wall, ok?"

"Yes, sir." Henry gives me a sharp salute and smiles. I know that smile: it's hope. And it's on me.

I take a deep breath. "Let's not make any noise. They won't be able to see us but they'll hear us coming. And we can't use the light unless we _absolutely_ need it." I hold Liss' hand and nod at Trouble. He keeps the bat in his right arm and takes Liss' free hand with his left. Even with everything going on, I feel this tiny blip of warmth inside me. Even if something happens to me, I get the sense that Trouble will look after Liss.

"Here we go," Henry says, like we're about to hop on a roller coaster at a theme park.

We edge our way into the dark; cool tiles against our back. I can hear dripping in the distance, slow and random. I remember reading somewhere that the tunnel is always leaking but it doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Not like the walls are going to suddenly burst and flood the whole thing. It's cool down here too, our tiny sounds echo in the cavernous space: short breaths, careful footsteps, clothing dragging along the walls, Henry's wheel chair.

As we edge deeper, the light from the entrance bleeds away until we're in complete darkness. I can't see my hands, can't see my nose. It feels like we're floating in space. The wall against our backs is the only guide.

Somewhere out there in the dark is a shuffling sound. I squeeze Liss' hand tight, maybe for her, maybe for me.

I close my eyes because my vision can't grasp onto anything and I keep imagining things. Henry is leaning forward with his hands out so that Kean doesn't ram him right into me. Every now and then he bumps against me and it's actually kind of reassuring. Just a tiny reminder that Liss and I aren't in this darkness alone.

This is easily the scariest thing I've done since the outbreak. Running through a minefield of infected was nothing compared to this. Before, I had some kind of control because I could see everything I needed to avoid: obstacles, infected people. But now all I can do is listen and feel. Every sound seems amplified, and they shoot around like hundreds of tiny bouncy balls. I can't be sure of which direction they come from. It's completely overwhelming. I can't be sure of anything.

The tunnel starts to level out which means we're almost halfway through. Behind us a groan ripples through the airwaves. I turn my head sharply, following it.

"That's close," Kean whispers.

He's right. I feel like it's not just a passing comment. It's a warning to be ready.

I move Liss' hand to my jacket and she grips onto the hem. I raise the can and lighter, just in case, and keep sliding along the wall.

I can feel them out there, shuffling along the road, sliding against cars, invisible in the dark. And for a moment we're not so different from the infected, we're just more bodies shuffling along in the pitch black.

A groan cuts like a speeding bullet toward us. It's coming from behind. Then footsteps, heavy ones, thudding and slapping with an eager pace. My heart clenches and I point the can toward the sound, angled away from the wall so I don't singe Kean's eyebrows if I use it.

"Kean?" I whisper.

Henry grabs my leg and we all stop.

It's growing louder and faster, narrowing in on us.

"Kean?" I hiss.

Nothing.

My heart beats in my ears like it's trying to explode out of my body.

"Light!" Kean says.

I flick on the lighter, aim the can and spray for just a few seconds. Fierce orange flame whooshes out, burning a bright path. I see it, the infected shadow up on the ledge. Maybe he followed us in. Maybe it doesn't matter.

I also see Kean, way closer than expected. I lift my finger off the spray can and hear metal clatter to the ground. He swears. I think I just burnt his hand.

"I just dropped the tyre iron. I need light!"

I aim the spray away, out into the tunnel and this time I see two things I don't like. First the infected person on the ledge with us is close, real close, and Kean's just standing with raised fists. And second, as the flame spits out into the tunnel it reflects off all the shiny sets of eyes. Hungry faces look up at us from between shadowy cars and suddenly there's noise everywhere. Groaning and moving sounds.

Something dark flashes past me, beneath the flame.

Trouble.

He darts to the back of the line and swings the bat. The infected head cracks against the wall and its body falls away.

"Kill the light!" Kean yells.

I lower the lighter and the darkness closes over us like water. "Go Liss, move!"

She's making whimpering sounds but starts moving.

Arms swipe over the edge of the ledge, bony fingers slipping over our boots, bloody hands searching for a grip.

"Faster," I say, pushing her along. "Henry?"

"Here." His wheel is clattering against the wall.

"Kean?"

"Yep," comes his reply.

"Trouble?" I call.

No reply.

"Trouble!" Kean calls back.

I step on a hand and the bones snap beneath me. Liss lets out a little scream and reels away from something. I push her onwards. The tunnel is beginning to angle upward.

"Are they up on the ledge?" I call back.

"Just that one," Kean replies.

"One's coming!" Liss screeches and tries to back into me. I shoot the flame out in front and a decaying face flashes up, just a meter away. I train the flame on its head and suddenly the infected woman's long hair catches. She grabs wildly at Liss so I drop everything and dive for her, grabbing the front of her dress. The flame on her head lights up a small space around us as I twist and go down.

Liss is screaming like she doesn't need air. My back hits the concrete ledge hard and I use the momentum to roll the woman off me and into the crowd of clawing hands.

For a moment I've lost the wall, and completely lost my bearings. Hands grab me from all sides and can't tell which are friendly and which are not. I scrabble to my feet.

"Florence!"

I feel Liss' small hand on my arm and she pulls me to the wall. I press my back against the wet tiles and run sideways. The infected lady's flame head bobs away into the crowd and disappears.

Screeching, yelling and yelping fills the air. Henry and Kean are shouting. The infected know we're here so there is no point in being silent anymore.

I just hope like hell there are no more infected up on this ledge because I dropped the can and lighter and now I've only got my fists.

My boots are being battered and I'm just crunching over flesh and bones. It's so gross.

And suddenly we pass around a bend and I see the exit. I swear it takes my breath away, hovering like a sun breaking into the night. Grey light filters down to us and I glance back and catch Liss' frightened expression. There's a huge pile up of cars here, acting as a barrier to keep the infected in.

When I pass it I begin to run straight instead of flat against the wall. Liss and I burst out into the daylight. It's still raining, but it's just a spray of mist now. There are no infected on the other side of the car barrier... yet. I look over Liss, and my hands. All seems clean. Liss' backpack is hanging open and I zip it up.

Henry and Kean burst out and stop when they see us. Kean's out of breath and Henry's clutching the blood soaked umbrella. I look around them, back into the tunnel. "Where's Trouble?"

Kean looks back. Everyone does.

Seconds tick by and nothing.

Kean swears and calls his name.

Still nothing.

This cannot be happening. See, this is why I don't hang around with other people. But this is _Trouble_. It doesn't feel right to leave him. And he's my backup for Liss. I can't do it, can't walk away. I know he wouldn't leave us.

"Dammit," I say, and I grab the umbrella off Henry.

"What are you going to do?" Liss grips my arm.

"I'm going back for him."

She gives me this sad look.

"It's Trouble. I have to."

"I know," she says.

That surprises me. But I shake it off. "Crap. I dropped the aerosol back there."

Liss takes off her backpack. "I picked it up when you were fighting that lady." She pulls it out of her bag and I just about die from admiration.

"Oh, Liss. Good job. Really good job." I look back at the tunnel. "I don't suppose you picked up the lighter too?"

Liss bites her lip and shakes her head. Great, all I can do right now is deodorise the enemy.

"I've got one." Kean holds it up. "I'm coming with you."

"But Liss and Henry..." I say.

"Can wait here."

"No. Not here." I shake my head looking around. I see a bright red door. "In here." I pull it open and it's some kind of fire equipment room. Small and free of infected. "Quick."

I close the door on Liss and Henry, and chuck Kean the aerosol. "Sorry for burning you," I say, and dart back into the darkness.

I grip the umbrella and slide my other hand against the tiles.

"What's the plan?" Kean whispers behind me. When it gets really dark Kean puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel the lighter in his grip.

"Find him and go from there." I wait a few seconds before calling out, "Trouble?" The infected scrabble back to ledge but we're still out of reach. They can only claw at our feet.

We step carefully and keep yelling. A few minutes later I hear something that sounds like hah, hah, hah. It repeats over and over like a beacon.

"Trouble?"

He stops making the funny noise and calls back. "Trouble!"

"Where is he?" Kean says. "Where's his voice coming from?"

"Oh my God." I grip onto Kean's arm and we stop. "I think he's out in the tunnel." I look at Kean but I see nothing, just blank darkness where his green eyes and freckled skin and crazy hair should be. "Light?"

Kean flicks on the lighter and aims the spray into the tunnel. It blazes out over the scene. At our feet, infected people swarm like we're the band and they're stuck in the mosh pit. Hordes of them. My heart stops when I see Trouble. He's standing on the roof of a yellow car, far from the ledge. Completely surrounded by infected. It takes a moment for him to register the light, and he looks over. This is bad. I see it in his face.

Kean cuts the light. We stand, infected jostling and bumping at our feet.

"What now?" he asks.

I'm still clutching Kean's arm. "You want to distract them? I've got an idea."

"Yeah, how?"

"Use the light, make noise. I'll sneak this way."

All Trouble needs is some light and he can get back up here. That's what I want to give him.

I squeeze Kean's forearm. "Give me twenty seconds then go crazy, try and draw them deeper into the tunnel."

"Got it. Go."

I scramble over the carpet of broken arms, dragging myself along the wall as quick as I can. Then I turn stealth and creep along quietly. I count out loud in my head and pause, silently hiding. Right on time Kean lights up the air and starts yelling and jumping. The infected turn and converge on his display, totally forgetting about me.

Kean is making just enough light for me to see what I need and he's drawing away the infected perfectly. I fill my lungs with air and slip down onto the road. God this is insane.

I duck behind a car and creep round the other side. The driver's door is open and I reach in.

An infected man brushes past and I tense, but he's completely dazzled by the display and doesn't even notice me. I reach my hands over the wheel and flick all the levers. Nothing happens. I grope around and suddenly the entire tunnel goes pitch black again.

"I'm out of light," Kean yells. Then he starts singing something at the top of his voice. I hear the sound but not the words.

I keep searching with my hands, blindly waving them about, pressing buttons and flicking dials, testing everything they touch. And then my hand hits something that clinks. I touch it with my fingertips: keys.

Please, please, please, please. I push them forward in the ignition and something whirs alive in the car. As soon as I hear it, I stop pushing. I don't want to start it. The clock lights up on the dashboard, dazzling green and I see what I need: a click dial on the dashboard. I flick it to full beam and light sears out into the dark, glowing over everything. The infected, Kean, Trouble. Everything.

Kean and Trouble freeze.

The infected spin and rush toward the light, toward me, moving like a tsunami. I look at Trouble one last time and our eyes connect. He holds his bat high and as the infected move he slides down out of my view.

And now I run. Even though the light is pointing away from me I can see just enough. I'm in the middle of the road, swerving between cars and infected people, poking out with the umbrella. One infected gets the umbrella to its stomach and to my surprise it goes straight through its gut and lodges in the cavity. I shove it away and launch myself back up to the ledge, slamming my cheek against the wall.

"Kean!" I scream. "I'm up." But then I realise he can probably see me.

For a moment there's nothing but aggravated moans. I peer down, ignoring the hands groping at my ankles. I can see Kean but not Trouble.

"I'm here," Kean calls. "I'm coming. Trouble's up too."

I put my hand to my chest and let out my breath. They say it's good luck to hold your breath all the way through a tunnel. I'm pretty sure I've been holding my breath since we stepped into the darkness, so I'm going to go ahead and believe it.

Something claws at me and I kick out with my foot, crunching it in the head.

Kean reaches me, and steps past. He locks his fingers in mine and looks back. Trouble switches the bat to his other hand and reaches for me. We clasp on and move, hand in hand like one of those paper cut out things they make you do in primary school art class, away from the light.

With our backs pressed hard up against the wall, we sidestep all the way out into the grey light. Kean goes right to the edge for a safety check while I collect Liss and Henry. When I open the door they peer out like little animals. Liss sees me and tackles me with a hug. I hold the door open so Henry can roll himself out. Liss leaves me and grabs Trouble's hand.

"Alright you two. For the next five minutes you're lookouts." I point to the end of the walkway. "Over there. Any movement drop and don't make a sound."

Liss and Henry head over to the spot and I pick up Trouble's arm, inspecting it for bites, scratches or marks. Anything that might indicate he's infected. I don't know what happened to him down on the road and I'm not taking any chances. Although I'm not quite sure what I'll do if I find something. "Help me," I say to Kean. "Make sure he's got no bites or scratches."

Kean begins inspecting Trouble's other arm. Trouble lets us, but he glances between me and Kean, looking confused. I smile and nod at him, hoping it's a universal sign for it's ok.

I push his t-shirt sleeve up higher and I see he's got a tattoo on his arm. Nothing fancy, it's just a date: sometime not long before the outbreak. Trouble glances at it and his eyes linger on the ink. I feel his arm muscles tense beneath my hands. And then he leans forward and removes his shirt so we can check everywhere else.

"Looks fine," Kean says.

"You have to check the bottom half."

Trouble looks between us, and points to his legs. I nod and turn away, letting Kean deal with the bare legs.

A minute later Kean calls out, "Ok, he's good."

Thank god for that.

"What about you?" Kean says.

"What _about_ me?"

"You were down on the road too."

True. I pull off my jacket and Kean looks at my arms. He looks up finally.

"Are you serious?"

He just stares back.

"Liss, come here."

Liss and Trouble swap places. Kean is still looking at my arm; he picks it up in his warm fingers and touches the side of my hand. "What's that?"

"A scar."

"What from?" he asks, running a finger over it. Suddenly he pulls back like he's just seen a do not touch sign.

"My rollerblading phase. Ok, now turn around," I say. "Liss can do the rest."

Kean obliges and wanders over to Henry and Trouble. Liss checks over my skin for bites, even though I know I wasn't bitten.

"All good," Liss says.

I put everything back on and slide into my leather jacket.

"Flo?"

"Yeah?"

"Can they come with us?"

I look over at the boys. Trouble is leaning on his baseball bat, watching Kean spin Henry in circles on the end of the ledge. "If they want to, I guess."

I stand with Liss and Henry, watching Trouble and Kean scope out cars. The sky is clearing; the sombre grey giving way to patches of blue. It seems the further we travel the more difficult it becomes. There are more infected people than I'd ever bargained for and I don't know how much more I can take. Every time someone almost dies it's like cutting a limb off. I can feel myself growing attached to the others; mostly Trouble, but there's something endearing about the way Kean and Henry keep on going.

I can't look back at the tunnel. I just have the image of Trouble, standing on the car and completely surrounded, stuck in my head. I wonder what would have happened if we'd left him? Would the old me have left him? I don't like to think of the answer.

A car starts and we all look up. Our new ride is an old purple hatchback.

After Kean sorts out the wheelchair business he hops in the front passenger seat. Liss slides in next to Henry and I take the window seat.

Trouble steers the car into a clear lane and we roll away. Liss and Henry are having some kind of conversation about a kids TV show and the irrepressible smile is back on Trouble's face.

Everyone is on a high, but I just feel quiet. There are big thick concrete walls on either side of the freeway. I stare out the window, hugging my backpack. Suddenly the sun breaks out of the clouds and I see the ghost of my reflection in the window.

Kean is watching me through the wing mirror. I look over but he doesn't flinch away. He just watches me as the world slides by around us.

### Chapter 9

EXIT SIGNS FLASH past as we speed along. Cars lie like skeletons, eroding on the side of the freeway. Kean fiddles with the radio for a while but all he gets is static. He puts in an unmarked CD and classical music flows from the speakers. No one complains. I bet in normal times we would've all gone mental over it, but not now... it's just nice to hear something other than silence or screaming.

It's still light outside but I just feel like finding a place to stay and bunkering in. I'm tired, Liss is wrecked, and I'd like a moment of peace without an infected person trying to claw me to death. I think that's a reasonable request.

I lean forward, tap Trouble on the shoulder and point to the next exit. The road tilts down and away from the freeway and we stop at the blank set of traffic lights. Trouble looks around.

I point to the right. This route takes us up along Warrigal Road, past Chadstone Shopping Centre. For a moment I can't believe we've made it this far. Our destination is so close. I just hope we're heading for something. I don't want to go straight there; we need to regroup and repair. Especially if it's going to be a big let down.

Trouble drives slow through the abandoned traffic and mounds of rubbish. We pass under the freeway bridge and emerge from the dark shadow. This is the home I remember, this side of the city. This is where I was born, where I grew up. I lived here, went to school here, had friends and saw movies and walked along paths here. I remember swimming carnivals on sunny days and catching the bus to the shopping centre and raiding my pockets for coins at the charcoal chicken shop. Part of me will always belong here. Even if nothing else remains.

I get Trouble to stop at the Dandenong Road intersection and Kean turns down the music.

"I want to find somewhere to stay for the night." I point to the corner. "That hotel there. What do you think?"

"It'll probably have infected in it." Kean stares at the building. "But maybe we could clear a whole floor and block it off."

"I bet we'd find food and water," I say.

"You mean we'll have our own rooms?" Henry says. "And real beds?"

Liss looks at me and smiles.

"Sounds pretty good, huh?" I say.

Henry puts his hands behind his head and leans back. "I could use a relaxing break."

"What are you talking about... a break?" Kean glances over his shoulder. "You don't even walk... _I_ push you everywhere!"

"Fine." Henry rolls his eyes. "You could use a relaxing break then."

Kean laughs and Henry laughs and what the hell, I might as well laugh too.

I point to the hotel and Trouble drives over extra slow. He parks right next to the glass front doors and we all peer out.

"Here we go again," Henry says. "What's the plan?"

Kean and Trouble are looking back at me, waiting.

"Well." I look up at the building. "I think we should take the first floor. Block off the stairs to the upper levels and clear every room so we don't have to worry. We can easily get off those balconies if the lobby entrance becomes unusable."

"I'm happy with that," Kean says.

Henry leans forward. "Sounds good to me."

"Ok then." I hop out and Liss follows. Kean sets Henry up in his wheelchair and Trouble waits by the glass doors with his baseball bat.

When we've all gathered I nod to Trouble and we follow him into the lobby. It's nice and bright on account of the huge glass windows running down the sidewall. Grey suede couches sit on bright red carpet and a glass chandelier hovers above us, gathering dust.

Henry rolls over to the elevator and presses the button a few times. Nothing happens. "Well, I give this place a one star for wheelchair accessibility," he says.

The reception counter is glossy wood with a glass top. Kean wanders over and starts going through drawers.

The door to the right leads to stairs and Trouble peers through its glass panel. Next to him, a large potted plant is toppled on the floor, spilling dirt everywhere.

"Looks like there are eight rooms on the first floor," Kean says holding up a bunch of keys. "Room one and two keys aren't here but the rest are."

I nod to Henry. "How do we get him up the stairs?"

Henry rolls over to the stairwell door and Kean meets him there. I watch as Kean kneels down and Henry puts his arm around his brother's neck. Kean stands, stooping forward so Henry doesn't strangle him with his weight, and spins, folding the chair flat and hoisting it up in his arms. How he carries all that weight, I have no idea.

"Ok." I nod to Trouble. "Let's go."

The stairwell carpet matches the stuff in the lobby. Blood red. Windows let in soft afternoon light and dust motes hover in the yellow glow.

Trouble leads the way, bat held out in front, stepping quietly. Kean heaves each step, carrying both his brother and the chair. Maybe I should offer to carry the chair but it seems like the opportunity has passed, so I just pad along behind with Liss and marvel at his strength.

At the first floor landing Trouble pauses, glancing up the stairwell. Kean unfolds the wheelchair and dumps Henry back into it. Liss grabs my hand as Trouble pushes through the door. We all follow, one by one.

The corridor is long and plain, just white walls and glossy grey doors. It's dim and shadowy and the air is stale. The only source of light is a window at the far end.

I'm standing just past the elevator, between room one and two; the doors we don't have keys to. That either means there are infected inside or dead bodies. My bet is on dead bodies.

"I can check the rooms," I say. "If you guys want to check the stairwell."

Kean narrows his eyes. "You don't have a weapon."

"I'll just close the door again. I'll be fine."

Kean blinks a few times. "Ok." He hands me all the keys and nods to Trouble. They move out into the stairwell and I shuffle through the room tags. I pace down, pressing my ear to each door. At number eight, I listen for twice as long. Liss and Henry are watching me from the other end of the hallway.

I hear nothing from within so I slip the key in and open it a crack.

Still quiet.

I push the door open just enough so I can see in. The walls that I can see are deep purple and the carpet is cream. The room banks away to the left and blocks my view.

I tighten my grip on the handle and clear my throat.

Nothing.

I do it again, louder.

Nothing.

"Hello," I call.

I wait a few seconds before stepping in. The curtains are open, the king sized bed is made. The room is spotless and free of infected people.

I knock on the bathroom door, wait a few seconds and open it. This room is dark because there's no natural light. Granite black tiles cover the floor and climb up the walls. It's pretty standard: bath, shower, toilet, sink. Folded white towels sit on a shelf and on the sink are little toiletry bottles: shampoo and conditioner and all the other stuff that seems completely irrelevant now.

"Hey guys," I call out, holding the door open. "Come and look at this."

Liss and Henry appear in the hallway and their faces light up. Liss walks straight in. Henry rolls in behind her.

"There's a bed!" he says. "A real bed!"

I leave Liss and Henry in the safety of room eight and continue checking the other rooms. They're all empty, all made up and ready for guests they'll never receive... well, except for us. I'm standing with my ear pressed against the door of room one when Kean and Trouble emerge from the stairwell.

"You survived," Kean says.

"So did you."

Kean smiles and looks over at Trouble. "Well the stairs and other corridors are clear so you can walk around safely if needed. We jammed a couch behind the lobby door too, so nothing can get in."

I nod. "You guys want your rooms?" I hold up the keys to room six and seven.

I take Trouble to his room and try to explain in some kind of crazy sign language that it's his. He looks ecstatic, like his face is the sun shining on a freaking perfect day.

When I go back out into the hallway Kean has his ear against the door to room one.

"Anything?" I ask, wandering over.

Kean shakes his head. "Just another mystery to remain unsolved. I suppose they're dead."

"I supposed that too."

"So ah..." Kean straightens. "Where are we heading after this stop?"

I pull a plastic smile. "Nice try."

"Look I get it," Kean says, lolling his eyes toward the door. "There's only one thing worth trekking across an infected cesspool of death and destruction for. I know where you're going... more or less"

I look at him for a while. "Don't you trust me?"

"I only met you today but even when I didn't trust you, you saved my life. Twice." He sighs at the door. "You're looking for salvation."

"Aren't you guys?"

Kean looks straight at me. "What if we've found it?"

My gaze lowers.

"Sorry," he says quickly. "I shouldn't hassle you about it. You don't want to tell me." He shrugs. "I don't need to know."

"Ok, then," I say. But really I don't know what else to say. There's an electric tension in the air and I don't know how to break it.

"Well, I'm hungry..." Kean says. "Time for dinner?"

I smile. "Lets see what they've got on offer."

Me and Kean take a room each and compile all the food. There's a snack basket on the counter with packets of chips, nuts, biscuits, processed and packaged muffins, even some of those nut health bars. At the very bottom is a menu with a price list and I chuckle to myself. It's like five dollars for a small packet of chips... that's insane!

The mini bar fridge has been powerless for some time but apart from the off milk nothing else is perishable. It's all chocolate bars and fizzy drink cans and fancy spring water with a drop of flavour. There's alcohol too; mini bottles of vodka, bourbon, gin, and wine, but I leave all of those.

I carry the basket against my hip and head out into the hallway. Kean is carrying his basket of food on his head, balancing it with one hand and banging on room eight's door with the other. "Party in Trouble's room!" he calls through the wood.

I head straight to room seven and knock on the door. It reminds me of normal times when we had privacy and little spaces for ourselves, and when we had to be polite and respectful and all that.

Trouble opens the door and welcomes me in. I dump the food basket on the floor and sit next to it. A few seconds later Liss, Kean and Henry come in. They sit around in a circle on the floor, and Trouble copies. Kean pushes his food basket next to mine. "Dig in, everyone."

I split open a packet of roasted cashew nuts as everyone sifts through the goodies. Liss chews on a health bar while Henry and Kean argue over whether a Mars bar or a Snickers bar is more nutritionally appropriate for the apocalypse.

It's not until everyone is finally eating something that Trouble looks over the basket. He picks up a bag of salted peanuts and shakes it next to his ear.

"So how far away from this place are we, Florence?" Kean asks.

"Not far."

"Hey, how come you answer him?" Liss says. "You always growl at me when I ask."

"That's because you ask every five minutes."

"Yeah and I only ask every ten minutes," Kean says, grinning. "Gives Florence a bit of break."

"Can't we just stay here?" Liss pops open a can of Fanta.

"Not forever." I stare at the cashews in my palm. "Maybe a night or two."

Liss groans.

"It's not far. Probably two hours walk? So a short car trip. Just down that road..." I point, but Kean is the only one paying attention. "And then up that way."

Trouble is staring at the ceiling, Liss has one eye closed and is staring into her fizzy drink.

"Where are you guys from?" I ask Kean.

"Camberwell."

I arch an eyebrow. "Rich boys?"

He smiles. "There may be traces of private grammar school training, but we've managed to shirk most of it. Especially Henry. You're a complete savage now, aren't you, Henry?"

Henry makes a thoughtful face. "If by savage you mean not savage in any way, shape or form then... yes."

Liss giggles into her orange can.

"What were you doing in Albanvale?" I ask. "It's pretty far from Camberwell."

"We were staying with our Aunt... you know, running from the outbreak. It hit the inner city suburbs so fast."

"Where's the rest of your family?"

Kean frowns at the floor. "We had so many people staying in the same house that Henry and I were camping out in the garage. Creepies must have found a way into the house one morning. It was chaos. They're either all infected or dead. We didn't hang around to do a tally. What about yours?"

"I don't know. I came home from school one day and couldn't find mum so I went to find Liss. Dad never came home either... so I assume the same."

"I wonder how many people are left," Henry says.

I shrug. "I haven't run into many."

"We saw heaps," Liss corrects me. "We just didn't stop."

"Actually yeah, we did see that big group, I guess. It was like twelve people." I look at Kean and shake my head. "They didn't last long. Next day they were the ones attacking us."

"How'd you get away?"

I scratch my head, thinking. "We hid in wheely bins for that one."

"Holy bleep," Henry says.

"It was horrible." Liss burps a tiny girly burp and smiles. "But that's when we met Trouble."

"We met a fair few..." Kean's words trickle off.

"But," Henry continues for him, "everyone's afraid of the kid in a wheelchair."

Kean laughs... like really laughs and he shakes his head. "You should see them run!"

"It's like they think I'm infected or something," Henry says with his hands in the air. "Like they'll all catch the horrible wheelchair disease!" He drops his arms again. "Honestly. People are so stupid."

"Cheers to that, brother." Kean passes Henry a can of drink.

Henry opens it and lemonade sprays in a whitewash all over his face. Kean falls back laughing, tears streaming down his face. Henry sits with this pretend stern look on his face, but his amusement shows through.

"Thanks a lot," he says to Kean. "Now you'll have to give me a sponge bath."

Kean cuts his laughter short and sits up straight. "Dammit."

"You never think, do you?" Henry shakes his head and lemonade drops go flying out. "As I said before, I'm definitely the brains of this operation."

"That makes me the brawn then." Kean waggles his eyebrows.

Henry screws up his face in response and leans over. "That's a bit hopeful, brother." He pours the rest of the can over Kean's head and Kean just sits there with a wide goofy smile, taking it. The liquid rolls off his head and slides in rivers down his cheeks.

"Argh!" He twists away and jumps up suddenly. "It's going down my back!"

Liss is watching so intensely it's like a kid sitting in front of a Wiggles DVD. Kean ducks into the bathroom and brings out a few towels. He chucks one at Henry and it smacks into his face, wrapping around his head.

"Sorry about the mess, mate," Kean says, looking at Trouble. "We'll clean it up, don't worry."

Trouble just nods and smiles his glittery smile.

### Chapter 10

I'VE BEEN SITTING on my side of the bed for some time now, just watching Liss sleep. The balcony curtains are wide open and moonlight shines in.

Liss is sandwiched between the crisp white sheets, perfectly still. The bed is so good, like sleeping in a warm hug. I was in it before, but I'm so full from all the sugary salty crap we ate for dinner and I just can't seem to drift off.

Liss wants to stay here, I know. She's got friends and food, a room of her own and a bed. But she doesn't understand. These moments of peace are always temporary. Everything is temporary in this world. Eventually we'd run out of food, or make a mistake and attract the infected. Eventually other survivors would want a piece of our serenity and then we'd be challenging for leadership and all sorts of stupid things people do when they get together in mass. And I don't want to be part of a gang.

I slide off the bed and step onto the balcony. The air is cool and calm, but it's weird looking out and seeing perfect black. The traffic lights and street lamps were the first to go. People used to say machines were totally superior because they can do amazing things like calculating crazy sums and shooting us into space and allowing us talk to anyone in the world at any time. But they're all dead now and those luxuries are all gone. It's like machines have been made extinct, just like dinosaurs. Maybe we'll be extinct soon too. Not yet, but you never know what's coming.

I miss the glitter of city lights on the horizon. No matter how dark the night was there'd always be this grey cloud of light and you'd just know people were awake and alive, somewhere out there. At least the moon is glowing bright tonight.

"Hey." Kean sits on his balcony, facing towards me, with his legs slotted through the wooden beams of the hand railing. His cheek presses against the wood.

I sit facing him, and let my legs dangle in the space between our two balconies. The wood beams remind me of jail cell bars. Not that I've been in jail, but you know what I mean.

"What are you doing?" Kean says.

"Can't sleep. You?"

His skin looks pale and smooth under the moonlight. He smiles. "Henry snores. Do you realise how impractical that is in the apocalypse?"

"I can imagine." I wiggle my bare toes and look down on the street. I'm not exactly being chatty but Kean is picking up the slack for me.

"I never thought I'd see the end of the world," he says.

I lean my forehead against the slats. "It's not really the end."

"What is it then?"

"Um... I don't know. Just different." I shrug. "Some of us are still alive, so it's not the end."

"That was deep." Kean laughs. "Very profound."

"Shut up." I try to keep a straight face but I know he sees my smile.

"These are such philosophical times."

I blink into the darkness. "How old are you?"

He stares at me for a moment then reaches into his pocket. He passes me a little square of plastic.

The image of his face stares out from the shiny card. When I move it, a hologram imprint jumps out in the moonlight. "Really? You carry your learner's license?"

He shrugs. "I don't want to die a John Doe."

I look back at the card. His birthday is ten days before mine. He's seventeen... probably almost eighteen. But then again I'm probably almost seventeen. "Kean Kinley?"

He grins. "Try saying that ten times fast."

I hand the card back.

"Can you drive?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I was booked in for my learner's test though. The Saturday after the outbreak."

"That's bad luck."

I shrug. "It's not like anyone cares now."

"I do. I care. And I will take you down for unlicensed driving, perform a citizen's arrest if I have to."

I laugh quietly, but I think it sounds like some weird cough. I stare at the moon until I get a huge white spot in my vision. When I look back at Kean the spot makes him look like he's got no face.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" he asks.

"Stay another night, I guess. Liss likes it here."

"We're only missing a restaurant, working showers and room service. That would be paradise."

"I haven't had a shower in so long..." I stop myself. "I shouldn't tell you that."

Kean laughs. "And you think I bathe regularly? I bet we smell worse than the infected."

"As long as I can't smell me I'm happy." I scratch my nose. "I want to go over to the shopping centre tomorrow morning."

"Does it have ramps?"

I shake my head. "Just me."

"Oh, what for?"

"Bookstore."

Kean nods slowly. "Mind if I come?"

When I don't say anything Kean adds, "I'm only being polite when I ask. You can't stop me from following."

"In that case... sure why not. You can be Liss for a morning."

"Do we get to hold hands?" Kean grins.

"We're not as close as you guys are."

His smile fades. "Could have fooled me."

"We didn't even like each other before the outbreak, but then we didn't really see each other. Our parents divorced and Liss lived with dad mainly. I stayed at mums. Then we swapped for weekends."

"What were your parents like?"

"I don't know... they were my parents." I shrug. "Nice... good people and all, they just used to fight a lot. What about yours?"

Kean's eyebrows go skyward as he speaks. "My mum? She was amazing. Henry's so much like her. I think dad was just in awe of her the whole time. I'm more like dad, I guess." Kean scratches his neck. "Sometimes I forget they didn't make it, you know? I keep expecting them to turn up at any moment, making sure I'm eating right and wearing clean underwear. Sometimes I wonder how Henry and I made it this far." He grins for a brief moment. "I know it looks like I'm the one keeping Henry alive but I swear it's really the other way round. He can't even walk and he's still just... cool with it all. He has this unbreakable spirit, always has. I feel like a bad brother sometimes for getting down about everything..."

"I feel like a bad sister all the time," I say. "Sometimes I wish an adult would just take over and then I wouldn't have to be responsible for everything anymore. It's exhausting trying to stay alive."

"I know, right?"

I rub my eyes. "I should get some sleep. See you at... first light. What's that like six-ish?"

Kean nods and watches me as I go back inside.

### Chapter 11

MY WATCH ALARM goes off at six AM. I haven't used it in so long, I'd almost forgotten what it sounded like.

Liss stirs, eventually she rolls over and blinks at me.

"Go back to sleep," I say. "I've just got some things to do."

"You won't be far?" she says, closing her eyes.

"I never am."

She rolls over and snuggles into the blankets. I take the cans out of my backpack and leave them on the floor.

When I step out onto the balcony Kean is leaning on the railing, watching the red sunrise over the city skyline. He looks over. "Want me to carry your bag?"

I narrow my eyes. "Get your own backpack."

Kean gives me a half smile. "Maybe I will. And maybe I'll get matching Doc Martens too."

I shoulder my bag, forcing my crease of a smile away. "You couldn't pull off this look."

"Not like you two." Kean straightens. "So, how's this going to work?"

"We're going to climb down that tree."

Kean climbs over the railing and jumps the small gap to my balcony. I only pause for a second before manoeuvring myself down the tree. It's only the first floor, not much of a drop, but Liss is always in the back of my mind.

When I'm on the ground I wait for Kean. It's weird; I don't really feel paranoid like I normally do at ground level. Usually my imagination is dreaming up infected people to jump out at me, but it's pretty quiet in my head.

"I hope you know the way," Kean says, dusting off his hands.

"This is my side of town. Follow me."

We're not far. It's maybe a five-minute walk straight down the middle of the Dandenong Road. We stay quiet, walking along in near dead silence so we don't get noticed. The highway curves around and a gigantic pale peach building comes into view.

"Whoa," Kean says under his breath.

The car parks are huge and mostly deserted; it's like a graveyard for roads.

"There'll be creepies in there for sure," Kean says as we cross over the edge of the car park, moving toward the back entrance.

"Aren't they everywhere?"

Kean does a slow three-sixty spin, checking the area. "How are we going to get in?"

I point. "The doors probably."

Kean arches an eyebrow. "Looks dark."

"We'll stick to the top floor, it's got skylights."

He nods.

The automatic doors are stuck shut but the push door next to it is unlocked. This whole entrance is pretty much a wall of glass, doors included, so we can see straight in.

I go through first. It's so quiet in the huge cavern of space, I can almost hear the air shifting from our presence, like we're spoons stirring a coffee.

Kean looks up and around as he closes the door quietly.

We're already on the top level. Soft morning light drifts in from the glass ceiling. It's a bit shadowy and grey, but still easy enough to see.

There's a patch of blood on the pale marbled tiles, with clear footprints leading out of it, growing weaker and weaker along the floor until they disappear altogether.

"That's ominous," Kean whispers.

We round the corner and see the full extent of damage. Shops have been broken into; merchandise is scattered over a carpet of broken glass. Handprints of blood mar the gold railing, but no bodies anywhere.

"Man, some craziness must have gone down here," Kean says, keeping his voice low.

In the unsettling mess I begin to wonder if this is a smart idea. It feels really important though, so I trust my gut instinct and push on.

"This way." I move through a clear path and look into each of the dark shop's windows. Kean walks behind me.

There are clothing stores, shoe shops, a Darrel Lea chocolate shop that's been gutted. And then I see the bookstore.

The security roller door is down but it doesn't matter. The front window's been smashed in.

I step through, the glass crunching and squealing under my feet. It's dark in here, away from the reach of the skylight. Kean stands at my shoulder.

"They would have heard us already if there were any creepies in here." He wanders to the front counter. "Besides I doubt their appetite extends to reading."

I double check in both directions. Inside the shop it's eerily quiet. Kean is looking at the little things on the counter. I step over a stack of fallen books and search for the travel section.

"Florence..." Kean whispers.

"What?" I whisper, glancing over the shelves.

"What are we looking for?"

"I've found it."

I touch the wall of books, running my fingers over the spines. I have to squint and lean in to read the names in the half dark.

Suddenly a light blasts me from the side and I swear my heart just about explodes.

Kean lowers the beam. "Display book-light," he says with an apologetic smile.

I shake my head and pull out a Chinese language guide from the shelf. Kean hovers the light over it and I flick through the pages.

"That's going to be great," he says, "if you want to ask him where the nearest train station is or how to order coffee."

"Mmm." He's right. It's not great. It's more for tourists that are actually in China.

"Try the language section. Like a Chinese-English dictionary."

I squint over at him through the bright light. "I thought you were just the brawn."

Kean aims the light away. "What can I say? I'm misunderstood."

We move down the aisle and he shines the light over the books, searching. "Here."

I pick out the pocket edition and flip through. The words are tiny. I shake off my backpack, and shove in a few different Chinese-English dictionaries. I hang one strap over my shoulder but leave it unzipped in case I find something else.

"You read much?" Kean says, sweeping the light behind us.

A crunch sounds at the window and we both look over. Kean kills the book-light. The silhouette of an infected person stands in the jagged window opening. It steps in, looking around.

Just my luck.

Kean grins and then winks at me. "It's my turn. I've got this one," he whispers.

I don't know if his smile is a weird fear response or just him going mad, but it looks really creepy, kind of like the guy from the shining when he's bashing through the bathroom door.

I zip up my bag slowly, keeping my eyes on the infected person. The dictionary corners poke against my back and I stand perfectly still in the dark. The infected people can't see any better than us, so I'm hidden for the moment.

Suddenly the light flashes in the next isle over. "Here, creepy, creepy," Kean's sing-songy voice calls.

Oh my God. Kean has gone insane. Literally.

The infected goes straight for the light and sound, kicking through the fallen pile of books. And Kean comes running back around into my isle, light off. "Go!"

I bolt for the door, sliding through the debris. We burst out into the grey light but Kean stops.

I spin. He's doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Panic seizes my insides but when he looks up, he's laughing.

"What are you doing?" I call in the lowest possible voice.

Kean starts laughing out loud, the sound echoing down the long walkways.

"Are you insane?"

"Wait." He stands up still smiling. "Wait for me. I'm sorry but you should have seen the look on your face. So serious!"

"This _is_ serious!"

Kean looks over as the infected person tries to climb out the window. It's in such a frenzy it slips in all the mess and wriggles back to its feet.

"Hey there, clumsy."

"Kean! Move!"

"Relax. Look. I've got plenty of time. And it's only one." Kean starts walking toward me and he starts popping out a disjointed version of the robot dance. Actually it's pretty good. He does a Michael Jackson spin with sound effects, and faces toward the infected.

It's man. He swings out his arm and growls, but he's nowhere near Kean.

I point to the other side of the shops. An infected lady is jerkily walking toward us. "Now it's two."

Kean sees her but doesn't seem alarmed. He starts doing a shimmy as the man approaches him, jumping back every time the infected guy lunges for him. "Yeah you like that, dontcha. Break it down with me."

"Kean!" I practically scream his name.

He turns around and runs a few leisurely steps. "Alright, serious face. Lets get out of here then."

We start running for the exit, the two infected lumber behind, but they won't catch us. Kean is laughing his head off.

I'm running but he's just jogging. I pull back to his speed. We're going to get out, easily. Sure, there are infected chasing us but soon they'll hit a glass door and be doomed to live out the rest of their existence trapped in a shopping centre. But me and Kean will burst out into the fresh air. And I kind of get it, I think. He's laughing in the face of death because he can. Because, why not?

I leap over a fallen mannequin and Kean grabs my hand. He pulls me along, looking back, smiling. I seriously cannot believe he turned out to be so mad, but at the same time his laughter is infectious, in a good way. I can't help it. I don't mean to laugh but it just comes out.

We tear through the debris, sliding along the tiles, crunching through glass. I kick away a pink top that's half caught on my boot. When we round the corner Kean skids away, almost taking me down. He's still gripping my hand and I tug him back up.

We blast toward the doors, still cackling. He actually gets there first and stops. My hand slips from his and he holds the door open for me. I walk through, taking my time, doing my best snooty-shopping-lady walk and he bursts out laughing again.

Our laughter fades outside and we cross the silent car park, not even looking back to see if the infected are at the doors.

To my complete and utter surprise Kean takes my hand again, slotting his fingers between mine. I stare down at out linked hands but I don't say anything. It's not technically the first time he's held my hand. There was that time in the tunnel when we went back for Trouble. But right now we're not running from anything, we're not scared or injured or being chased. There's no real reason for it.

"You're insane," I say, still catching my breath.

"Nah," he says. "I just think that you can't always be scared. They're pretty slow and lame on their own."

"Yeah but in mass..."

"I get it. In a group, they're dangerous. But it's like, I feel a rush facing them, confronting the fear. I feel alive again. Don't you?"

"I suppose."

He smiles and his green eyes lock onto mine. I look away quickly.

We cross Dandenong Road in silence. This damned smile keeps threatening to show up on my face and I spend the entire five minutes of the journey back battling to keep it hidden.

***

The sun's nice and warm today, not searing hot. We spend the day at the bottom of the hotel's drained swimming pool. It's completely surrounded by a tall fence and all these other buildings, which is about as safe as any area can be these days.

Kean has dragged one of the white plastic sun beds down into the deep end of the pit and is relaxing in the sun with his jeans rolled up.

Somewhere in the middle Liss and Henry are laying on their stomachs, drawing games on the pale blue cement bottom with a stick of chalk. I sit with Trouble, in the shallow end. We're leaning our backs against the side, just under a slice of shade. Trouble is studying the back half of the Chinese-English dictionary, running his finger down the page, while I study the front of mine.

It's harder than you think, trying to communicate with a few bare-bone words. In the past hour we haven't got very far. It's pretty frustrating, so I kind of understand how he must have felt before meeting us.

I know he's from China because when I ask, by pointing to the Chinese versions of _where_ and _from_ , he points to the Chinese title on the front of the book. Man would I have felt stupid if he was really Japanese or something.

Anyway, next I point to _when_ and then point to the ground. Trouble holds up seven fingers and then flicks through his book and points to _month_.

See what I mean? All that to get seven months. It's tough going.

Trouble points to _where_ , gestures to all of us, and then does a long slow movement with his hand.

I think he's trying to ask me where we're going, since it's pretty obvious where we're from. Besides, that's the first thing I'd be asking too.

I flick through pages and find the word I'm looking for: _safety_.

The coolness of the concrete is seeping through my clothing. I take a sip of my mineral water as Trouble points out another word: _family_.

I shake my head, but look for an appropriate word anyway. I choose _gone_.

I point to _family_ in his dictionary and then at his chest. He shakes his head and points to my dictionary. His family is gone too.

Liss giggles and I look over. Henry slaps his hands over his face, pressing his head against the floor while Liss does a little fist pump. Henry's wheelchair is inside. Just watching the two of them laid out on the ground playing, you wouldn't be able to tell he's paralysed.

Beyond, them Kean is stretched out, staring up at the sky. When I look at him I just think of the hand holding thing, remembering the way his palm felt, warming against my skin. I have to look away again because I don't know what it means, if anything. Was he just being friendly? Is he interested in me? Am I interested back? I know how dangerous that could be.

I have to think of something to ask Trouble so don't have a constant barrage of ridiculous questions running around in my head.

There is actually something else I want to know. I point to Trouble's arm, and poke it with my finger. He looks down at my hand but doesn't protest so I push his sleeve up until it reveals the tattoo of eight numbers. I know it's a date, only a month before the outbreak.

He glances at it and stares at the closed book in his hands for a while. I just wait.

Eventually he starts flicking through the pages and uses his fingers to hold two places. The first word he shows me is _girl_ and the second is _baby_.

Whoa.

If that's the date of his baby's birth, and I'm pretty certain it is, his daughter would have been a month old when the outbreak happened. And if she's not here in his arms then she must be...

I glance at his face but don't want to stare. His expression is strangely plain, like he's purposely trying to show no expression at all. I nod and flick through my book. _Sorry_.

He looks over and says a word out loud in Chinese. I pull my legs in so I'm sitting cross-legged.

It's weird how a thought can hit you so hard and make you feel all wacky. I never knew his kid but I know Trouble. And it makes me sad to think of him loosing his baby, because he seems like such a nice guy. I don't know how I'd ever smile again if I lost Liss.

Suddenly Trouble stands up. He points to _food_ in his dictionary and then points at Liss and Henry. I don't really know what he means so I shrug.

Then he shows me another word: _make_.

I give him a thumbs-up and when he reaches Liss and Henry I call out, "Trouble wants your help making dinner."

Liss jumps up straight away, looking smiley. Trouble pockets his mini dictionary and kneels down to help Henry. He kind of gathers Henry in his arms and still kneeling he nods to Liss and looks over his shoulder until she understands.

Liss claps her hands together and climbs onto his back, locking her arms around his neck.

The image of Trouble, carrying Henry in his arms and Liss on is back, as he marches up the steps of the shallow end, is so strange. The sunshine smile returns to his face and Liss giggles until they disappear inside.

I run my thumb over the pages of the dictionary a few times, making a fan noise as they flick past.

"Hey," Kean calls. He's still laid back but his head is raised. "Come and sun bathe with me."

Oh, crap. I don't know why but suddenly I'm nervous. And there aren't even any infected people around.

I stand up and wander into the deep end. Kean jumps up and starts climbing the poolside ladder. "Have my seat," he says. "I'll get another one."

I sit down and stare up at a floating puff of cloud. Behind there's a gentle clattering, and then a clanging on the ladder. Finally Kean pulls his chair right next to me. He lies back and looks over. "Nice, huh?" he says. "Imagine if this pool was actually full of water."

"I can't remember the last time I went swimming."

"I haven't been since Henry's accident."

I don't know what to say to that. When I do speak, somehow I don't realise what I'm doing. It's like my mouth is on autopilot. "Trouble had a baby daughter when the outbreak hit."

Kean looks over. His light green eyes lower a bit. "Oh, man."

"All his family is gone too."

"No wonder he likes us. We're like the most random family ever put together."

I had enough difficulty making the leap from just Liss and me, to working as a team of five. But family? That's something completely different.

"We are family," he says, looking over my face. He drops his head back and closes his eyes. "We eat together, we live together, we move in formation together."

I try to imagine what it would be like if Liss and I woke up tomorrow and we were on our own again. I'm not sure I could do that anymore. I'd miss Trouble and the background noise of two brothers trying to outwit each other. Crap.

"What did you think when I held your hand?" Kean says.

I glance over. "What?"

"You know." He shrugs, watching me. "What did you think? Good, bad, happy, sad... angry?"

"I don't know." My brow furrows. "Not angry." I shrug. "It wasn't exactly life changing." That definitely did not come out right.

"Oh, ouch." Kean closes his eyes again. "I'll have to make sure the kiss is out of this world then."

I've lost the ability to speak out loud. The words just sound in my head like: _what?_ and _what do you mean?_ and _oh my God... what?_

Suddenly Kean laughs. "Relax, it was a joke. I won't kiss you." He looks over at me. "I'm not brave enough, anyway."

"I doubt that," I say. "You shimmied in front of an infected man."

"Yeah..." Kean gives a short laugh. "But that's different." He pauses for a split second. "You know, there was this girl I liked back in school. Hailey White. Man, I must have had a crush on her since primary school. She was in my group of friends too. And for years and years I just watched her, waiting for the chance to actually tell her, but I never had the guts. And then the infection happened..."

"Where do you think she is now?"

"Dead. Definitely dead."

"You don't know that, though."

"Nah, I kind of do. She was a big wus. I heard she once cried at an episode of Home and Away." Kean's smile seems distant. "And not in a this-show-is-so-bad-I-can't-believe-I'm-watching-this kind of way."

I laugh but don't know what to say so I just stare up at the sky.

He looks over suddenly. "You watched Home and Away, didn't you?"

"I may have... dabbled, but I wouldn't say I was a religious about it."

"Ok, you can get away with that." Kean nods. His voice tightens. "You're pretty brave, you know."

I shoot him a sideways glance. "I'm not."

"Yeah." He nods. "You definitely are. "Bold and brave in a balls out kind of way. When you jumped out of the car, like thirty seconds had passed since running out of fuel and you'd already hatched a plan to save our butts. And when you were sprinting through the infected I was just watching thinking... wow. I also thought you were going to die. But mostly I was thinking wow."

I smile but say nothing, just keep squinting up at the sky.

"You did surprise me by going back into the tunnel for Trouble."

I look over at him. "How come?"

Kean shrugs slowly and doesn't let his shoulders drop again until he speaks again. "You just seemed like you didn't want us there in the first place."

"I didn't."

"Do you now?" Kean asks.

A few seconds pass before I answer. "Undecided."

Kean laughs.

"It was really stupid going to the shopping centre," I say. "I shouldn't have done it. I don't even know why I did. It's so unlike me."

"Putting your ass on the line for someone you care about? That sounds like you in every way." Kean rolls onto his side, studying my face in that way that makes me feel like I've got food on it or something. "We're alive," he says. "And better yet we're able to talk to Trouble... sort of. But now _he_ can communicate with us properly if he wants to. That must be such a release for him."

"That's why I didn't want other people hanging around in the first place. I get stupid," I say. "If something happened to me, Liss would be alone. And for what? A book?"

"You can't think like that. You can't hold her hand every step of the way, just like I can't with Henry." Kean's eyes narrow. "Not that we hold hands... because that's just weird and... besides the point. Anyway, you kind of have to trust them to be able to look after themselves sometimes. Even though you don't want to."

"It's hard though." I twist onto my side and lean my head on my hand. "I remember once Liss and I were finding shelter for the night. We were in a housing development, still under construction, so it was completely fenced off. We were on one side of the fence and this guy... this grown man... comes out of nowhere screaming for help, you know? He sees us, comes straight to us and just stares at me, yelling for help. And here I am with a nine-year-old kid. He just keeps on screaming and rattling the fence, and then of course the infected people come around the corner. He didn't even _try_ to climb or run away. He just... let them have him, like he just couldn't deal with it." I pause to push a stray stand of hair from my eye. "I don't understand it. It's like some people just can't look after themselves."

"Yeah, but that's not your problem. You can't be held responsible for everyone." Kean's eyes slide away for a moment to the shallow end of the pool. "Just before we ran into you on the freeway," he says, "Henry and I had been hiding in a house with this woman called Marlena. She must have been thirty something, you know, normal looking, normal acting. She was a high school teacher back before the outbreak, so I figured she'd have to be pretty strong-minded and reasonably trustworthy." Kean gives me this look. "And then, one night, when Henry's already asleep, she starts telling me that we can't survive with him around. He's too slow, too difficult to look after because he can't walk... a big liability and all that. She starts trying to convince me to leave my own brother. To just let him die."

"Wow."

"And Marlena's getting so worked up about it, you know, she's shaking and her voice is getting louder and louder. So at this point I'll tell her anything to shut her up. I say okay, in the morning we'll leave Henry behind and it's not till then that she finally calms down. Meanwhile, Henry's heard all of this, he woke up sometime in the middle of her crazy rant, and so as soon as Marlena falls asleep, we bolt. We pack our stuff and just roll on out of there.

"I wouldn't have left him, I'd rather die. I think in a way Henry keeps me sane and I keep him alive, and it kind of works because we both need each other. Though sometimes he drives me insane and sometimes I almost get him killed." Kean shrugs. "Can't be perfect every hour of every day."

"I can't believe she tried to make you leave him."

"Yeah." Kean gives a breath of a laugh. "And that same day we met you guys. I pretty much thought me and Henry were dead, you know? I didn't have a destination, didn't have a plan. I just felt like we had to keep moving. I pretty much promised myself I'd never work with anyone again but then I saw you guys. You and Liss, just like the girl versions of us. And on top of that you had this guy with you who didn't speak a word of English! I mean, that's hilarious! Enough to send anyone running. When you offered us a lift, I didn't even have to think about it. I just couldn't believe it." Kean rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. "To you guys it doesn't even matter that Henry's in a wheelchair. We get around it. We make things happen anyway. You guys make me feel like I've got something to fall back on. Some other reason to keep going."

I stare at his smile for a while. His teeth are perfectly straight and white, like movie star teeth.

"So... thanks for giving us a lift." Kean glances at my free hand and a thrill runs through me. I lie back again, cross my arms over my stomach and stare up at blue sky. Yep, I am a wus. I can deal with hordes of infected people but I can't deal with a single guy. "I wonder what's for dinner," I say.

Kean laughs. It sounds more like a nervous release than a happy sound. "I'm going to hazard a guess at chocolate, chips and other closely related items."

### Chapter 12

LISS COMES TO the edge of the pool, just as the sun begins to dim. "Dinner's ready," she says, waving her hand. "Come on."

Me and Kean follow her back to the first floor but instead of heading to our rooms she carries on up the stairs. I swap a curious glance with Kean and we follow without protest. Liss leads us all the way to the top floor and stops at a white door. She knocks twice and waits.

Inside I can hear a sudden whirl of shuffling and moving sounds. Something in me tenses. It's like I'm hardwired to assume hushed sounds mean danger. I touch Liss' arm and she looks up at me.

"Ready!" Henry calls out.

My moment of panic subsides. Liss is still looking at me, and she smiles, pushing the door wide open. I walk through first, followed by Liss and then Kean. The door closes behind us with a soft clunk.

Henry and Trouble look up.

We're standing in the hotel restaurant. Light pours in from a wall of glass leading out onto a rooftop beer garden. The room is full of tables with white dusty tablecloths and neatly pushed in chairs. Henry and Trouble are beside a big table in the very centre. It's draped with white and cream tablecloths, lit candles sit in tiny frosted glasses and there are five place settings with big round plates, wine glasses and shiny cutlery.

"What the..." Kean says.

Liss wanders over and stands next to the boys. Trouble takes the lid off a pot and starts ladling out steaming hot pasta.

"Oh my God," I say, and I look over at Kean. "Real food."

Kean stares back at me, just as shocked.

"Where did you get all this?" I say, walking over. I touch the tablecloth with my fingertips and feel like laughing.

"From the kitchen," Henry says. "They had a portable gas stove, probably like a back up or something, and there was just enough gas left to cook with."

I sit down and Kean takes the chair opposite me. I watch Trouble filling the plates. "What is it?" I ask.

Kean answers with a smile. "Tomato pasta. About the only thing Henry knows how to cook."

Henry grins at us both.

"I made dessert," Liss says, sitting next to me. "Well, I opened the tins of fruit."

"This is amazing," I say.

Henry is already sitting in a dining chair, not his wheelchair, and when all the plates are full, Trouble stands at the head of the table holding a fancy looking bottle of champagne. When he pops it open, Liss half screams, half giggles and claps her hands.

Trouble divides it between our glasses, just a few mouthfuls for Henry and Liss, half a glass each for the rest of us. Finally he sits down and nods, raising his eyebrows and doing a thumbs-up sign. We all give Trouble a thumbs-up back. It must look hilariously cheesy.

"I suppose we should toast to something," Kean says, raising his glass. "To... good friends, good family, and... to surviving."

"To surviving," I say, and we all lean forward to clink glasses. Everyone crosses arms and stretches across until every glass has been clinked.

The champagne is sweet like strawberries, tingling on my tongue, with a slight sour after kick. I glance at Kean and he catches me. I smile and start eating my pasta. "Oh my God, Henry," I say as I chew. "Nice work."

I don't remember the last hot meal I had. I don't remember my last meal before the outbreak either. Sometimes I try but it just all comes up blank. I certainly never thought I'd eat in a restaurant again anyway, not in this lifetime.

This should all be impossible, but somehow when the five of us get together things just happen. We can survive running out of fuel in a crowd of infected people, and trekking through the pitch-dark Burnley Tunnel. We can survive the loss of friends and mums and dads and daughters. We can survive the hunger and the heat and the stupid mistakes. And somehow, when we're together, it doesn't just feel like surviving anymore. It kind of feels like living again.

We finish every morsel of pasta and every lashing of sauce. We sit with full bellies as the sun falls away and leaves us in dancing shadows cast by the candles. Outside the stars light up like a thousand strings of fairy lights.

"So, this place we're going," Kean says. "It's a few hours walk from here?"

I run my finger over the rim of my glass. "Two hours, maybe."

"Think we can get the car through?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. The roads are narrower this way. Might be jammed."

"And when are we going?"

Everyone's going to freak out; I just know it. I don't want to ruin this night, but I might as well be honest. "I was thinking noon tomorrow."

Kean nods and surprisingly Liss doesn't complain.

"I hope it's better than this," Henry says. "Because this has to be hard to beat."

Kean looks up at me. "If it's not, we'll come back here. So it doesn't matter either way."

Liss yawns and leans her warm forehead against my shoulder.

I smile down at her. "Is her highness ready to retire to her royal quarters?"

Liss nods against me. "She is."

Kean looks across. "We should probably do the dishes then, Florence, since these guys cooked." He turns to Henry. "Trouble can take you guys downstairs, right?"

Henry nods and gestures to Trouble. Trouble stands and lets Henry wrap his arms around his neck. Liss follows them out and suddenly I'm alone with Kean, one orange flame burning between us, casting warm shadows over his face. Everything else around us is dark.

Kean leans his elbows on the table and I sit back in my seat. "That was amazing, huh," he says.

"Yeah." I smile at the candle. "It was."

Kean lets a few seconds pass, then drops one of his elbows. "There's a whole table between us. I'm not going to bite you."

I glance away to one side.

"Yes, you look that horrified," he says.

I knit my fingers together and a smile traces my lips. "I'm not horrified."

Kean arches an eyebrow.

"It's just... if you're on my mind then there's no room for anyone else."

"For Liss," he says, nodding.

"And if all my attention is going somewhere else then she's not safe, and I'm not doing my job."

Kean takes a deep breath and leans his chin against his fist. "And that's all?"

I nod.

"That's the only reason?"

I roll my eyes and look away. "Yes. That's the only reason."

A smile flashes like lightening over his face. "Cool."

We stare at each other for a few seconds, the flame reflecting in the dark part of his eyes.

"This place tomorrow," he says. "What does it look like?"

I sigh, tapping my finger on the tabletop. I don't know what it is exactly that makes me want to tell him. I mean, I've kept it to my self all this way and if we show up now and find nothing, I'm going to feel pretty stupid. But there's something in the way he doesn't bug me about every single second, and doesn't try to force it out of me. He acts as if it doesn't matter either way, which makes me feel like maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe I've been reverse-psychologised, but whatever.

"It's a place called Arcadium. I heard about it on the radio at the start of the outbreak. I don't know what it looks like, I don't even know if it still exists. But..." I shrug. "That's where I'm going."

I watch for Kean's reaction but he doesn't really have one. "You know where it is?"

"Corner of Warrigal and Centre Roads."

"Arcadium," he says, rolling the word over his tongue like he's tasting something new. "What is it?"

"I think it's a government refugee centre type thing."

"So it's big."

I shrug. "I remember a big empty building near that corner. One that was supposed to be made into a superstore or something but I don't think they ever finished it. It's right next to a bus yard. That's where I think it is anyway."

Kean is still nodding and his eyes drop away; he's thinking.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh." He waves a dismissive hand. "It's just... I can understand why you didn't tell anyone about it. I want to believe in this Arcadium place so badly... if it's overrun or non existent or something... it's like, where to from there?"

"If it's not there... if it's not safety... well, I do kind of have another plan."

"You're always thinking ahead, aren't you."

"Or always expecting the worst."

Kean lifts his gaze. "So, we're good either way. If Arcadium is the answer, great. If it's not, then on we go with the next adventure."

"You're more like Henry than you realise," I say.

Kean looks at me, slowly blinks and then looks away. In the glimmer of candlelight I catch his tiny smile.

### Chapter 13

A LITTLE BEFORE noon we gather in the hotel lobby and wait while Trouble starts the car. As soon as it rumbles to life we push through the glass doors and leave safety. It's hot again today; the warmth is like a scorching cloud over my skin.

The highway is deserted as we pull out. No one says much; it's like the tension is a rubber band pulled tight and the first person to speak will snap it in two.

I sit up front with Trouble, Liss is behind me with Henry in the middle and Kean on the other side.

I direct Trouble down Warrigal Road and we begin the slow trawl through a maze of abandoned cars. There are two narrow lanes on either side, a small nature strip and then houses. We weave into the oncoming lane and bump slowly up onto the nature strip, squeezing between a house fence and an upside down car. Then we pick our way back, looking for a clear path.

The car heats up quickly and we wind the windows down just a crack each. Even though it must be like forty degrees, no one is crazy enough to wind them all the way down and risk being surprised by an infected. At this speed they could just reach on in and take what they want.

Sunlight glistens off glossy-leaved trees, and it washes out the scene like an over exposed photo. The concrete seems whiter, the houses seem drearier, and the cars seem as though they're fading away into history.

I remember this road as one of the busiest, and now it's nothing more than a dried up vein.

Our lane clears and we pick up speed as we head uphill. "We're close," I say.

No one replies. My eyes start searching the landscape for signs of the building. I'm staring out to my right when it happens, so I'm caught completely off guard.

There's a huge bang followed by a shattering explosion. Suddenly pieces of windscreen are in my lap, in my hair. A shadow flicks up and over us, rolling across the roof. Wild screeching fills the car and the stench of hot rubber stings my nostrils. There's a brief moment of pause, where time seems to move so slowly, and finally I understand what's going on. We're careening off to the left, jarring up the curb and onto the nature strip.

There's another bang, loud and final, and I hear metal twist and groan. My head slams forward because I'm stupidly not wearing my seatbelt, and my own forehead crushes my hands on the dashboard. The airbag explodes into Troubles face, but I don't have one. The world seems to stop but everything in the car wants to keep going.

Henry's arms flail forward through the gap in the seats but he never comes through. His belt saves him.

We lurch back and everything goes quiet. All I can hear is my own breath, over and over again. There's blood on my hands and I wonder if it's from my head. My fingers are already starting to swell up, just seconds after impact, and steam hisses out of the crumpled bonnet.

Trouble starts moving, pushing the bag from his face. He looks over at me, a trickle of blood comes from his nose. Something passes between us, not words or communication, It's like a basic human instinct we share, and we react the same way.

We get out quick.

My ears are ringing and my hands feel numb; I hold them out in front like they're not mine anymore. For a moment I forget about the world we live in, about all the infected. I stand on the grass and stare at the car. The front is wrapped around a lamppost, the metal rippled like water. The back doors are still closed. Thirty metres back an infected person lies bleeding in the middle of the road. Bleeding but moving, jerking around weakly on its side.

Suddenly it all comes rushing back. Sound and thoughts and reality.

Liss is screaming. I pull open the door and my hand roars with pain. Liss tumbles out, pale and shaking. She grips my t-shirt and doesn't let go. On the other side of the car there are shouts and movement. The boot pops open and Trouble pulls out the wheelchair.

I spin and search for the building. It's huge, I can't miss it, but from this distance it looks abandoned. Cold grey concrete blocks, blank windows, an empty car park, yellow tufts of grass growing beyond the chain link fence. I have no idea how to get in, or if anything's even in there.

"They're coming!" It's Kean's voice.

I look in either direction and freeze. Infected bodies are shifting through the cars and debris, flowing toward us like a torrent of dirty water.

Everything's happening so quickly. I claw Liss off my shirt and I only know she's holding my hand because I see her do it, I can't feel a thing.

Warm blood trickles down the side of my face and I glance over my shoulder. The others are coming, running towards me because they think I know where I'm going. They think I'm the best chance they've got. Oh, hell.

I take off, dragging Liss across the footpath and we run parallel to the fence. It's too high to climb and my hands are too numb and I don't know how to get Henry over.

The sick gurgling sounds of the infected come from everywhere. I'm running but it feels like the concrete path is a treadmill. All this effort and I'm hardly getting anywhere.

Suddenly there's an infected woman in front of us. I yank Liss sideways, back onto the road and we skirt around a car. I hear the infected woman's skull crack as Trouble dispatches her with the baseball bat. The others are right behind now.

"Where? Where?" Kean shouts.

"I don't know!" My voice comes out high and curdles on the top note. It doesn't even sound like me.

The fence crosses the car park and stretches toward the building, so I follow it. There's no sign of life, no sign of safety. I just keep thinking that this can't be how it ends for us. We've been through so much and this is how we die? A car accident and nowhere left to go. There's no point to that. It's not fair.

"There!" Kean yells. He's pushing Henry's wheelchair and running in small zigzags. Trouble's bat is covered in blood. Behind us the infected pour into the car park.

Suddenly I see what he sees. A gap in the side of the building: a huge elevator with its doors wide open. I know it won't work because the power is out but maybe we can get through the roof into the elevator shaft and climb to safety. It's the only choice because the fences funnel us this way, just as they funnel the stampede of infected.

Henry's wheelchair clunks over the metal doorway and we spill into the elevator. I point frantically to the roof, to the small manhole. Trouble stands on the arms of Henry's wheelchair to reach the roof but he can't budge it.

I turn and face the door, turn to face the wall of infected as they close in on us. I can't feel my sister's hand but she's there, right by my side. Trouble is screaming in Chinese, pounding his fists on the metal manhole. Henry is yelling too.

They're only twenty metres away.

Then ten.

I look across at Kean and our eyes connect. Everything that could have been, that's what I think.

Five metres away. Death is here.

And then the elevator doors start moving, racing the infected. They amble across with a casual hiss and suddenly we're sealed in.

"We made it!" Kean says. "Look."

I follow his pointed finger to a sign on the wall.

"Welcome to Arcadium," he reads. "To enter the facility press the red button. We made it."

The elevator jolts and we begin to rise.

"There's more..." Kean says.

Something distracts me. A soft hiss.

"Can you smell that?" I say, sniffing the air.

Henry is looking around at the floor; Trouble is kneeling next to him, wiping blood from his own nose.

"It also says..." Kean's words echo around the steel elevator. "That entry is subject to decontamination."

"Decontamination?" Henry says. "What does that mean? How are they going to..." His words cut short and his eyes go wide and he slumps in his seat. One by one we go down. Trouble next, falling back against the floor. Liss collapses, dragging me down to my knees. The last thing I see is Kean clutching his chest, sliding down the cold steel wall.

My head feels like it's drunk, and then like it wants to go to sleep. My lungs get tired, like they're filled with water. I cough. Just once. The edges of my vision blur and the colour starts to disappear until everything goes black.

And I'm out too.

### Chapter 14

HEAVEN IS WHITE. That's what they teach you, even if you're not religious. The general idea is white and bright and calm and quiet.

I'm conscious now but I stay dormant behind the darkness of my eyelids. I don't want to open them. What if it's not like we think it is? What if it's just nothing?

My ears are ringing but I feel the sound fading into a soft silence. When I finally open my eyes a jolt of pain enters my brain. It's so bright. I squint and try again, letting my eyes adjust slowly. I'm staring up at something. A shiny roof, maybe glass. Beyond that everything is white.

I blink and draw in a fresh breath. There's so much to take in. I'm on a flat bed in a strange white hospital gown, completely encased in a room of glass. I sit up slowly and slide my feet to the floor. That's glass too, a layer on top of grey concrete.

The lights are coming from above, piercing white. It's cool and scentless in this small space.

My eyes focus and I see Liss, lying on a bed in the cube next to mine. I run the few steps to the wall and slam up against the glass, screaming to her, banging my fists against the thick barrier. She lies so still in her white gown. She looks dead.

"Liss!"

But she won't wake up.

Something crackles above. "Please calm down." A disembodied female voice filters through a tinny speaker.

"What's going on?" I call out. "Let me see Liss!"

"Please, relax. You're inside Arcadium. You're safe now."

I see movement outside my room and I chase it. A woman stands there, looking straight at me. She's thin, dressed in a tight white suit with a high collar, and holds a clipboard in her hand. Every inch of her skin is covered: blue surgical gloves for her hands, a white mask for her mouth and nose, a cap for her hair. But I can see her dark eyes through the clear goggles.

"What did you do to her?" I say.

The woman glances at her watch and jots down a note on her clipboard papers. "You're in decontamination. How do you feel? Any fever?"

I stare at her for a few seconds before shaking my head.

"Nausea? Light-headedness?"

"No." I look back at Liss.

"Well, it looks good for you. As soon as everyone wakes up we'll begin full orientation."

"When will that be?" I look down the line. Kean is in the next compartment. And Henry in the next one over.

"Doctor," a male voice comes from somewhere. The woman looks away.

"Patient five is waking."

The woman nods and walks back to a desk full of papers and computers with flashing blips on the screen.

Down the far end I see movement. I rush over and press my hands against the glass. For the first time I notice my hands are wrapped in white bandages. I look back up.

"Trouble!" I scream.

He looks disorientated but the blood is gone from his face. His eyes move slow and careful over his surroundings. Finally Trouble sees me and puts a hand to the glass. I smile to let him know it's ok, even though I don't know it is. He stares for a moment and then nods. I nod too. I watch the woman doctor trying to ask him the same questions she asked me. Trouble stares at her blankly.

"He doesn't speak English," I say.

The woman looks back at me, jots something on her clipboard and returns to the desk.

After a few minutes I sit on the floor, dividing my attention between Liss and the woman outside. At some point I must zone out because suddenly Kean is standing against our dividing wall staring at me. I jump up and put my bandaged hands against the glass. He glances at them and looks back at me. He places his fingertips over mine and looks around. And then he smiles. "We made it," he says. I barely hear the words through the glass but the speakers carry just enough of the sound into my room.

"You certainly did. Kean Kinley?" The woman looks into his glass room.

"How..."

"We found the license in your pocket. How are you feeling? Any fever?"

Kean looks back at me, studying my eyes. "No," he says.

"Any nausea, light-headedness, anything like that?"

"No," he says again, still staring at me. Suddenly he points behind me. I glance over my shoulder. Liss is sitting up on her bed. I rush over and she sees me.

"It's ok, Liss." I say, unable to keep my smile at bay. "We're here. We're safe."

The woman asks Liss the same series of questions. Liss stares at the woman for a long time before answering.

Finally the woman says, "Unlock the decontamination units."

There's a hiss and a door appears in the sheet glass wall. It's barely there, just a plastic seal visible where before there was nothing. The woman waits as someone similarly dressed walks the line of compartments, pushing each door in. We emerge from the glass boxes and meet in the middle. Liss clings to my waist. Henry sits in his wheelchair between Kean and Trouble. There's a kind of stunned and cautious silence between us. Surely everyone else is thinking the same as me. Is this real?

The woman pulls down her mask and smiles, but it's emotionless, and maybe a little cold. "Welcome," she says. "I'm glad to report you're all infection free."

"What is this place?" Kean says.

"We are the last line of defence in this war."

"How do you mean?"

"This right here is a medical laboratory, one of many within the Arcadium facility. We house forty-seven research staff and three-hundred-and-eighty-four civilians. Walk with me." The woman presses something on the white concrete wall and pushes the door wide open. She strides out into the corridor and we all follow.

"Arcadium has one purpose, and one purpose only." She glances over her shoulder. "To find a cure."

"A cure. Is that even possible?" Kean says.

The woman looks back and takes off her goggles and cap. Her hair is dark and rolled into a bun. "We hope so."

We pause as she punches a code into a keypad and then follow her through another set of glass doors.

"Of course, housing civilians is a by product of what we do. Once we have a cure, we're going to need a population to rebuild from." She pauses suddenly and we all bump into each other trying to stop in time. "Forgive me." She puts her hand to her chest. "I haven't met anyone new for quite some time. I'm Doctor Sandra Hope, head of the biological research wing and patient admittance." Doctor Hope leads us down a narrow concrete hallway with fluorescent lights and rows of doors spaced just a few metres apart.

"Accommodation is basic, but we have a school for under sixteen's, a library, a gym and a mess hall with hot food. Once you're settled you'll be expected to participate in work duties. But for now..." She stops abruptly and puts her hand on a door. "Make yourselves at home. I am assuming you're all together?" She glances at Trouble. There's something about her cold stare that I don't like. "Yeah," I say. "We're family."

Doctor Hope gives me a strange look. "Inside you'll find clean clothes. Down the hall to the left you'll find the bathrooms, and to the right, the mess hall. Breakfast is six to seven. Lunch is twelve to one. Dinner is six to seven. Any questions?"

"I have one," Kean says, raising his hand. "How long were we out for?"

"Approximately six days."

"Holy crap," he says.

Doctor Hope's lips tighten and she looks at me. "Three of your fingers are broken, another two have hairline fractures. You also have a nasty cut on your head that's been stitched up, so I'll need to check up on you later." She nods and then turns. We all watch her walk away and round the corner. Her white lab coat flutters and for the first time I realise she's wearing heels. The footsteps echo like stabbing knives against the concrete.

The first thing I do is put an arm over Liss' shoulder, and then I hug her to me. "I thought for sure it was all over in that elevator."

Kean looks at me, then at my hands, and then at Liss. He looks back at the door. We stand in the middle of a bland concrete hallway, huddled close like a herd of animals.

Henry clears his throat. "Let's have a look inside then."

Kean opens the door and we peer in.

"Not exactly what I'd call wheelchair accessible," Henry says.

The room is tiny and narrow, like an after thought, a cupboard to store an overflow of mess. It's a concrete cave with bunk beds built into the walls; six spaces, two at waist level, two up high, and two so low they're practically on the ground. The mattresses have white sheets and grey wool blankets, tucked in tightly. And on top are folded white clothes.

Henry wheels himself in and transfers himself to one of the waist height beds. Liss sits on the other one.

"What the..." Henry picks one of the clothing pieces. It's a white long sleeved top with a high collar. "It looks like something from Star Trek. They really expect us to wear this stuff? Why can't we wear our own clothes?"

"Maybe they didn't want to take a chance with the infection," Kean says. "Probably incinerated them."

"What do we do now?" Henry asks, looking at me.

For some reason I can't speak.

"Maybe..." Kean says. "Maybe, we should change and have a look around. Is that bed good for you?"

Henry nods. "Yeah, I can get in and out easily."

"And Liss? Is that your bed?"

Liss nods.

"Florence?"

"I'll sleep under Liss." Since the outbreak we've been sleeping on the ground, or near enough. It feels wrong to do anything else.

"I'll sleep under Henry, so Trouble can have one of the top bunks." Kean gestures to Trouble and taps the top two bunks. Trouble puts his hand on the one above Henry.

"Well, that's sorted. I guess we should get changed."

We're all in our hospital gowns so it's easy enough to change with dignity. I slip into the white pants and pull them up with my thumbs. Some of my fingers stab with pain; others ache with the small effort. I wonder what they look like under all the bandages, but at the same time I don't want to see the damage.

The uniform material is soft and stretchy, almost like leggings but thick enough not to be see-through. I turn my back to the others and slip on the top. It's more like a snug fitting jacket, with a high collar that makes a V down to my collarbone. The front has a diagonal zip that stretches all the way up and there are no pockets. It seems weirdly trendy for the apocalypse.

"I feel like I've been inducted into a weird fashion cult," Kean says, zipping up his jacket.

Henry's in his uniform, and he lies back on the bed, laughing. "Kean, you look like you should be in an ABBA tribute show."

"Alright, Captain Cook. Get in your wheels, we need to explore," Kean says, and then he looks at me.

I pull a small shrug and Kean's eyes linger on me for a moment longer.

In the hallway we fall into our single file places, just like on the outside. Trouble goes first, Liss and I follow, and Henry and Kean chase up the rear.

We find the bathrooms first, but they're pretty standard so we move on to the mess hall. It's a great big square room, with bladed fans spinning lazily on the low ceiling. Basic tables and benches are set up in rows. It's huge, but then I suppose it has to feed over three hundred people so it makes sense. Down the very end is a kitchen and serving area. People dressed in the same white uniforms are moving around behind the glass but they don't notice us.

"How do they feed so many people?" Kean says, but no one answers.

As we filter out the door again Kean drops back and walks beside me. Henry and Liss go on ahead with Trouble.

Kean taps me gently with his elbow. "Are you alright?" he says. "You seem quiet."

"I'm ok," I say. "Tired, I think." But it's more than that. I feel slow like I'm ebbing out of a deep sleep.

"It looks like you took a battering when the car hit the infected person."

"I wasn't wearing a seatbelt."

He nods. In the seconds that follow I can tell he wants to say something, but maybe he doesn't know what. Or perhaps he knows, but isn't sure he should say it.

I look over and half smile. "It's a catch twenty-two, I put my seatbelt on and I can't get away fast enough, I don't wear it and we crash." I shrug.

Kean slows down and reaches over suddenly. His fingers sit against my hair and his thumb smoothes gently over my forehead. "How does your head feel?"

"Fine." I blink. "Why?"

Kean's hand drops away. "You shouldn't look in a mirror, then."

"Why not?" I touch my fingertips to my face. I can feel the bandage on my forehead now; I hadn't even noticed it before. Of course my head would be damaged, it smacked into the dashboard on impact.

My temple feels swollen too, right down to my cheekbone. "How bad is it?" I ask.

"You kind of have a rainbow on your face."

Dammit. It's forever impossible to look good in the apocalypse. Meanwhile Kean looks fine. More than fine...

"Are you ok?" Kean asks. "You're staring."

I look dead ahead. "This is just insane," I say.

The next room we find is the library. It's just another windowless concrete cube, nearly identical to the mess hall except for its contents. Study tables and chairs sit in the centre. Hundreds of books line the shelves, including a lot of huge medical textbooks on crazy topics like genetic mathematics and evolution biology.

One wall holds a huge flat screen TV, and below it, dark couches sit in rows, just like a movie theatre. On the opposing wall and visible through giant windows, is a school classroom full of children.

A woman spots us wandering aimlessly and comes over. "Hello," she says. "I'm Linda, head librarian. You must be the new survivors." She looks us over carefully with a polite smile.

"I'm Kean, this is my brother Henry. That's Trouble, he doesn't speak English. And this is Florence and her sister, Liss."

"My, my. I bet you have some interesting stories about the outside. You must be so relieved to be safe finally."

"Yeah," Kean says. "We are. It's all kind of overwhelming at the moment."

"I can only imagine. Well, why don't I tell you about the library? We have plenty of books. You can take one fiction book at a time and we ask you return it as soon as you've finished. There are a lot of medical science texts here mainly for the staff in the labs. We don't mind you reading them but just ask that you don't take them out of the library." Linda bunches her hands into fists and holds them up for a moment as if she's about to go skiing. "Oh, and of course... the television is available for use. After dinner we always put on a movie, if you'd like to join us. We have plenty of DVD's, and a few private TV rooms too, if you'd prefer."

"Is that the school?" Kean says.

Linda turns toward the glass and we all follow suit. "Yes. We have three classes for sixty-seven children in total."

"That's a lot."

"Yes... well... they are the future, aren't they?" Linda smiles. "I'll leave you to it. My desk is over there if you need anything at all."

"Thanks," Kean says. He turns to the others. "Do you guys want to hang out here for a while? Maybe get Linda to put on a DVD for you. I have to head back to the room."

Liss and Henry race over to Linda, while Trouble meanders through the bookshelves. Kean looks at me. "Come on, let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"Some place to talk."

"About what?" I follow him into the hallway.

"Let's go back to the room so we can sit down."

I don't really have a reason to protest, and it's not like I don't want to be alone with Kean, it's just... I don't know. Everything feels like a foggy dream. Kean leads me back to the sleeping quarters. The door shuts, encasing us in concrete, and I sit on the edge of Liss' bed. Kean sits across from me. The room is so narrow our knees are almost touching. He stares at me with a furrowed brow.

"What?" I ask.

"Do your hands hurt?"

"No." I blink. "Why?"

"They must have you on some crazy painkillers," Kean says, shifting forward even closer. "Can I see?"

I extend my hands to him, palms up, and Kean holds them for a moment. He begins to unwind one of the bandages, taking care to be gentle. He keeps going until all that's left is swollen purple bruised skin. My fingers are taped together and kept straight with splints.

He unwinds the other one and it looks slightly better: only two fingers taped together. Kean rests my battered hands on his knees and reaches for my forehead, carefully pulling back a corner of the bandage. I flinch at a sting of pain and he pauses.

Kean sucks in a sharp breath and his lips move with a silent count. "You have eight stitches." He smoothes out the bandage again and wraps my hands back up.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

Kean shakes his head. "Nah." Then his eyes light up. "Unless you count this." Without warning he unzips his white jacket and bares his chest. There's a thick red graze running diagonally over his collarbone, over his smooth contours and just-defined muscles. It's like I'm stuck in a trance for a moment. Eventually I lift my eyes to the red mark, and then to his face.

"Seatbelt burn," he says, zipping up the jacket again. "Do you think maybe you should rest? You seem dazed."

"I feel foggy," I say. "I suppose." I lie back on Liss' bed and Kean sits back on Henry's, bringing up his knees. He sits there watching me as I drift away into the sleepy fog.

***

A sharp knock sounds on the door and my eyes flick open. For a moment I forget where I am, that is until I see Kean staring back at me.

"Come in," he calls.

The door opens and Doctor Hope stands on the threshold. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," she says, looking at me.

"Florence."

She nods. "Florence. Doctor Harding is free. I thought we might give you a check up now."

"Uh, sure." I glance at Kean.

"I'll be in the library with the others," he says.

I follow Doctor Hope along the empty hallways, listening to her heels crack against the ground. She doesn't say anything, and I feel like I'm back at school, insignificant and invisible.

She uses a code to get through a locked glass door, and lets it slam behind us.

This hallway is so different, with decorative white wooden panelling on the walls and a pale covering on the ground.

"This way," she says. I hurry to catch up and follow her into an office. It looks like a doctor's office with the big desk and computer and examination table.

A small pensive man sits at the desk. His face is narrow and pointy, with cheekbones so sharp they could almost cut through his own skin. His eyes are nearly colourless, some kind of bland grey that reminds me of the solid concrete in our sleeping quarters.

"Yes, come," he says, not looking me in the eye. "Let me see the hands."

"Sit, Florence," Doctor Hope says.

I sit on a hard black plastic seat and offer my hands. Doctor Harding grips my wrists and jerks them closer, nearly pulling me off the chair.

"Ow," I say, frowning.

He looks up at me and then glances at Doctor Hope. "Forgive me, perhaps I haven't had a real patient in some time. My bedside manner may be rusty." He strips off the bandages, lays my hands flat on the desk and inspects them. "Well..." he says casually. "They seem to be coming along. Splints are doing well. Still rather swollen."

Doctor Harding holds up one of his fingers and shines a mini torch in my eyes. I flinch away. "Look here," he says, with a note of impatience. He flashes the light across both eyes. "No sign of prolonged head trauma. Do you remember anything?"

"Everything, I think."

"Good." He leans back and types something into his computer. Doctor Hope stands motionless, watching me under the glow of fluorescents.

"Hope, will you set the bandages right? Now, what's your name?" Doctor Harding asks without breaking eye contact with his shining monitor.

"Florence West," I say as Doctor hope wraps my hands again.

"Age and birthday?"

"Seventeen. May twelve."

"Blood type?"

"Um... I don't know."

"Known medical conditions?"

"None."

"Allergies?"

"None."

"Last immunisations?"

"Uh... I have no idea."

"Parent's medical history?"

"I don't understand what this has to do with..." I say, glancing between the doctors.

"Perhaps we'll put unknown for the moment." Doctor Harding scratches his neck quickly and types something else. "No doubt you feel groggy. Hope gave you a sedative because you kept trying to wake up during the decontamination process." He sits back into his chair, still staring at the screen and lets out a long slow breath. "There's not much you can do, I'm afraid. I can't put you on work assignment so you'll just have to rest until your hands heal. Think you can manage that?"

I nod.

"When the swelling goes down you can take the bandages off, just leave the splints and tape in place and... in a day or two we'll take out your forehead stitches."

"Ok."

"All right then. Hope, will show you out."

"Certainly. Follow me." Doctor Hope opens the door and waits for me. Doctor Harding returns his attention to typing, without even a final glance or word.

Out in the corridor Doctor Hope begins marching away. "What does Doctor Harding do?" I ask, hurrying to follow.

"Head of neurological sciences."

"Sounds important."

Doctor Hope looks down at me. "This is a medical research facility. Most personnel are in the medical or scientific fields, and are therefore extremely important."

"How did you know to make Arcadium? I mean, the outbreak happened so fast."

"Originally this was to be a quarantine centre but we shifted our equipment here when our labs were overrun." She gave an airy laugh. "We realised it was just as good at keeping infection out as it was in."

"But there were never infected actually here?"

Doctor hope gives me a quizzical look. "It was never used for its intended purpose, no."

She stops at the glass door and punches in the code again. This time she just holds the door open for me. "Are you fine from here?"

I nod and the door closes with a hiss, like it's an airtight seal. I watch Doctor Hope disappear, watch her determined stride. The door must be soundproofed because I can't hear her clacking footsteps at all. I glance at the code box for a moment and then go to find the library.

The others are watching a Shrek DVD. I sit on the couch next to Kean and lean forward to gently smooth Liss' hair. She's so absorbed in the TV she doesn't even turn.

"How was it?" Kean asks.

"Weird." I sit cross-legged and turn to him. "You know they sedated me but not you guys."

"I thought you seemed a bit slow."

I pull a sarcastic smile. "It's supposed to wear off."

"And what about the rest of you?"

"Well, I think everything will wear off, eventually. They want to take out my stitches in a few days."

"And what do you think of Arcadium? Everything you dreamed of?"

"Not exactly," I say, glancing around. "But at least it's infection free. You know this was originally a quarantine centre?"

Kean leans forward. "Really?"

"Yeah, they put the labs in as an after thought. Doctor Hope said it's a medical research facility now."

"Mmm, that makes me feel like a lab rat." Kean laughs.

I smile and stare at the TV. "What do you think of all this?"

"I think... we're safe now."

I roll my eyes. "You don't waste any time."

"Even if this place reminds me of a concrete concentration camp," Kean says. "Just remember Liss is safe now." He pauses to see if I'll say anything and when I don't he moves on. "Someone came by when you were getting your check up. Trouble and I have work assignment in the morning, apparently. Eight AM sharp. Get this... we're on waste disposal."

I screw up my nose. "All day?"

"All day." He nods. "How am I supposed to explain this to Trouble?"

"He'll have no idea what's going on. You guys have to stick together so he knows it's ok. They said I couldn't do work until my hands heal."

"Lucky you." Kean rubs his thumb over his bottom lip. "I made it through the apocalypse to become a cleaner."

"We can always go back to the hotel, I guess. If this doesn't work out."

"You think so?" Kean gives me an unsure look. "You see any windows? You see any way out except for the gas chamber? Freedom never felt so claustrophobic."

***

We're one of the first groups in the mess hall, sitting politely at one of the long tables down the back. I watch the other people wander in. They're all in the same white gear and they head straight to the food line. No one looks at us, which is kind of strange when you think about it. It's not like survivors come along all the time.

"Should we eat now?" Kean says.

"Finally," Henry replies. "I thought you'd never ask."

We all get up and follow Kean into the queue. There are three huge stainless steel pots sitting in a warmer, but the lids keep the contents a secret. Kean reaches the server first. She's an older woman, maybe in her fifties, with pale hair and small glasses that sit on her nose and keep steaming up. "ID," she says. "It's in your left cuff."

"Really?"

The server gives him an impatient look. "Last time I checked."

Kean glances back at me. "Sorry, we're new here."

"You got that ID? No ID no service."

"Man, how many times have I heard that before?" Kean says to me as he rolls back the left cuff of his jacket. Sewn in is a small black metal tag. "Hey, what do you know? I'm number three five eight."

The server writes the number down in a notebook and spoons out some rice and peas onto his plate. I show her my cuff. I'm three six zero. She gives me the same rice and peas mix. At the end of the line I collect some cutlery and a glass of water, and wait for Liss. Both Liss and Henry get smaller portions but they also get a glass of milk.

"This is so weird," Kean says as we walk back to our table. "I feel like I'm in jail."

"Well, I like it," Henry says. "No running, no screaming and no dying. Plus an endless supply of food and DVD's."

"You have to go to school tomorrow, remember." Kean says. "You looking forward to homework and maths equations and Shakespeare?"

Henry narrows his eyes.

"I bet school doesn't change, even in the apocalypse," Kean says.

"Dammit." Henry spoons a lump of rice into his mouth. "Where'd they get milk? Think they've got cows here?"

Kean picks up the milk glass and stares at it. "It's probably UHT milk, the stuff that lasts for years."

"Ew." Liss pushes her glass away.

Kean takes a big mouthful of Henry's milk. "Still tastes the same."

Liss seems to change her mind and takes a tiny sip of milk. "How come you guys don't get milk?" she says.

I shrug. "Too old maybe?"

"Where do you suppose they get all this food?" Kean pushes the peas around his plate. "Three hundred people a meal. That's a truckload of food."

"I don't know." I look at Trouble; he's glancing around, slowly chewing on the rice. "And water and electricity..." I add.

"And gas..." Kean says. "To gas us with."

"I guess that bit kind of makes sense in a quarantine centre."

"Does it? Shouldn't they be trying to cure everyone, not knock them out?"

"I don't know." I lift my hands in surrender. "I'm not an expert at this."

"I'm just peeved they took our stuff. Trouble's legendary baseball bat, the dictionaries, your backpacks, your boots!"

"And my chair," Henry says with a full mouth.

I look over. "They took your chair?"

"Yeah, this is a different one. I suppose it doesn't make much difference, but it seems like overkill."

"It's like starting all over again, hey." Kean punches his brother in the arm.

"I think it's weird how no one talks to us." I take a sip of water. "We should be like new shiny toys or something."

"And they pretend we're not even here. Think they're worried about us bringing infection?"

"Maybe." I shrug.

We finish the rest of our plain meals and head back to the room. I'm so used to going to sleep early because there's not much you can do in the dark. But now I've no idea if it's dark outside. All I've got to go by is the clock on the wall. I sit there and watch it till our lights go out (guess we have a curfew). Then I just lie there thinking about what tomorrow's going to bring.

### Chapter 15

AT SIX AN ear splitting alarm sounds and a voice comes over a loudspeaker. "Hot water is on until seven. Breakfast from seven to eight. Work and school duties at eight."

"What a lovely wake up call," Kean says, rolling out of bed onto the floor.

"Oh my God, I think my ears just exploded," Henry groans. "Tell me they don't do that every day."

I head to the showers with Liss. We wait in line with the other females and show our ID's again. When it's out turn, we remove our ID tags, discard our old uniforms into a bin and get handed clean ones. In each cubicle there is soap and shampoo, no conditioner though. There are also no towels so we have to walk, totally naked, from the cubicle to the drying station. No one seems to care but us. We wait in line, dripping water onto the cold white tiles.

At the drying station we have to step into one of the small cubicles. Heat radiates from hot plates and blasts of air tussle my hair. I'm completely dry in twenty seconds, hair and all. When Liss is done, we change into our fresh uniforms and head to breakfast.

Liss holds my wrist since she can't hold my hand. She looks like a strange little space creature in her white suit.

"That was so weird," she says.

"I know." I stand at the mess hall entrance, scanning the tables for the others. Trouble sees me first and stands up. He's easy to pick out in the crowd because he's the only Chinese person and the only person smiling that big.

I wave back, and then take Liss to the food line. We show our ID's to receive a breakfast of warm baked beans and black tea.

There's a constant din of muffled conversation and scraping chairs. A sense of normality. Like nothing ever happened. I slide into the seat next to Kean and Liss sits opposite me.

"Did you guys have a weird shower experience too?" I ask, picking up my spoon.

"You mean the naked experience? That was an eye opener," Kean says, but he still has a smile on his face. He looks so nice when he smiles, the corner of his mouth creases and a tiny dimple forms high in his cheek. His teeth are almost perfect, his pale hair...

"What about me?" Henry says, leaning over. "Everything is at eye line for me! That was _so_ wrong. I'm traumatised for life."

"Oh, so there's no problem with creepies chasing you and trying to eat you alive." Kean grins. "But a bit nudity is the thing that gets to you."

"A bit! That was more than just a bit!" Despite his protests, Henry laughs.

"Anyway..." Kean turns to me. He's already finished his beans and is just sipping away at his mug of tea. "How did you sleep?"

"Ok. I think the stuff they gave me is wearing off, especially after the shower shock. You?"

"Yeah. Henry's snoring kept me awake for a while."

"Whatever," Henry shoots. "I don't snore."

Kean grins at me. "You know, Florence, you slept with your eyes open last night, for a while anyway."

"Really?" I finish my mouthful.

"Yeah, you were staring right at me for ages and then you just rolled over."

"Yeah, right. Liss, do I sleep with my eyes open?"

"I don't think so," she says thoughtfully.

"See."

Kean laughs and lifts his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying you did and it was kind of freaky."

I smile back at him. "At least I'll see the infected coming before you do."

"Yeah, sure. We'll see who wakes first. I have like two or three life saving interventions to make up for."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Don't you worry." Kean taps his finger to his temple. "I am already planning... already planning."

"Does that mean we're leaving?" Liss asks in a sharp voice.

"No." I shake my head. "No, we're staying. Kean's just dreaming of being a hero."

"Good," she says, adjusting her concerned expression to a smile.

We all walk Liss and Henry to the school, and watch them for a few minutes through the library windows. "So this is what it feels like to send your kid off to school," Kean says.

"It's weird. I don't like the thought of being away from them."

"What are you going to do today?" Kean asks. We watch Liss and Henry sit at a table. A kid leans over and starts talking to them.

"I don't know. Wander around, I guess. I'll walk with you guys to work assignment."

"We should probably head off then."

Trouble follows us through the hallways.

"You have to look after Trouble," I say. "I don't know how everyone will react to someone they can't understand."

"Yeah, I know. I've got his back. I'm pretty sure they've put us together for that reason anyway."

"What time do you finish?"

"Six."

"Long day."

We stop at another wall of glass. Behind it, all the people too old for school gather, waiting for their work assignments.

"Well... have fun at work," I say, and nod at Trouble.

"Thanks, darling." Kean smirks. "I'll probably see you at lunch anyway."

I sigh and then smile. "Get in there, already."

Kean looks at Trouble and they both wander in.

I head off straight away because it feels weird watching them on the other side of the glass, like they're in some kind of experiment. I stroll the silent hallways with no idea what to do. Everyone must either be in school, on work assignment or locked away in a lab somewhere.

Now that I think about it, I don't remember seeing any of the doctors or scientists in the mess hall. They probably have a better place to eat with nicer food and more intelligent company. With the elegant wall panelling and covered floors in Doctor Harding's office, I wouldn't be surprised if they're all living in first class accommodation while we slum it in cupboards with bunk beds and communal showers. I mean, seriously what's with that? I thought I'd look forward to a shower every day but it's just _weird_. Factory line weird. It's the way you wash animals, not humans.

I haven't been beyond the library yet so I head in that direction. I figure now is the best time to explore, while everyone else is busy. I do feel kind of sorry for Kean and Trouble though, being on rubbish duty for nine hours. I wonder what they'll get me to do when my hands heal properly.

I come to another glass wall. Behind it is the gym, full of treadmills and machines, weights and colourful exercise balls. And it's completely empty. I push open the door but hear a sound. Someone's running, fast, pounding away on a treadmill. I'm about to slip away when the glass door clangs shut behind me.

The running sound slows suddenly and then stops all together. A shirtless guy comes around the corner wiping his face with a towel. He stops and stares at me for a moment as if I'm infected.

"I thought I heard someone come in," he says across the room.

"Sorry." My hands fidget, looking for pockets my outfit doesn't have. "I didn't realise anyone was in here."

He shakes his head strangely; it looks like some kind of uncontrollable tick. He's only wearing a pair of white shorts and running shoes, and somehow I feel like I've walked in on him changing. His frame is narrow, not incredibly muscular but he must works out a lot. And damn, his face is pretty. It's all sharp and angular, dark hair sits messily on top of his forehead that glistens with sweat. His chest is still heaving from the run.

"I haven't seen you before," he says.

"I'm new."

"Oh." He pauses, runs the towel through his hair and walks over. He wipes his hand first before holding it out. "I'm Adrian Harding," he says, shaking my hand.

"As in Doctor Harding?"

He flashes a smile. "As in Doctor Harding's son."

"Oh," I say. "Are you a doctor too?"

"No. I only finished high school a year ago. Sorry, what's your name?"

"Florence."

He nods slowly. "Three six zero, right?"

I blink, and stand for a moment, temporarily stunned. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"I just know things." He slings the towel over his shoulder. "What happened to your hands?"

"Car accident."

"Oh yeah, I think I remember seeing that on tape."

"You have cameras?"

"Course." He shrugs. "We don't go outside but it's handy to see what's going on out there."

"What's out there?"

"Nothing mostly. Few infected wanderers, sometimes survivors. Not many make it into the facility mind you. I've seen some crazy attempts in the video room though."

I just stare at him.

Adrian wipes his forehead again, and he studies my face. "You want to see?"

A drop of sweat slides over his bicep.

"Ok," I say. I wait as Adrian changes. When he comes out he's wearing the same white uniform as me but his last name is embroidered on the left side of his chest.

"Follow me," he says.

As we walk I feel the need to fill the silence by saying lame things. "I haven't been down here yet."

"Well, you've only been awake for a day, you can't know the ins and outs of this place like I do."

"Don't you have work assignment or something?" I ask.

"Nah, dad runs the place so I don't really have to do anything."

"Don't you get bored?"

"Oh my God, all the time. You will too, but I can show you all the fun things." A smile slides across his face like slick oil spilling into the ocean. He stops suddenly.

I stop too, and feel totally awkward as he just stares at me. I clear my throat. "This it?"

"Yeah." Adrian looks away and punches a code into the door lock.

"You need a code for everything round here, don't you?"

"Pretty much. To get into all the interesting bits anyway."

We step into the video room and the door closes behind us.

It's dark; the only light comes from the thirty or so black and white monitors hanging from the walls.

"Whoa," I say, trying to take it all in. "How many cameras do you have?"

"Twenty two perimeter cameras." Adrian points to the monitors on the wall in front. "Two on the elevator." He points left. "Seven on the inner perimeter, like mounted on the building." Adrian shifts to the right. "And even more in the labs and hallways."

"There are cameras in the hallways?"

"Yeah, but not yours. Just around the science labs."

"But isn't access restricted anyway? Why would you bother?"

"I don't know, for safety or something." Adrian sits in one of the chairs and swivels it around. He peers at a monitor. "Look at all those good little scientists, scurrying around finding the cure."

I stare at the screens, each one is in a different position: hallways, empty rooms, laboratories full of movement. People in white uniforms and lab coats move back and forth. One monitor shows the room full of glass quarantine cells. I squint; it looks like someone's in one of the cages. I point to the white blur. "Is that a person?"

"Yep. Another guy arrived not long after you guys. He'll be in there for the full quarantine period, before he's admitted to the general population."

"Why do you make them wait so long? I thought the disease takes over within hours?" I say, looking back at Adrian.

He crosses his arms over his chest. "It's just the standard quarantine period. It's long, yeah, but better to be safe."

"If someone was infected though, how long would they have?" I'm still standing, as if there is a clear barrier and I can't cross over it and sit down.

"Best case scenario... maybe an hour or two from the time of transmission. Sometimes it's super quick though, twenty minutes and they hit the deck, another few minutes and they're up again trying to eat anything they can."

"Including people."

"That's a lovely picture you've given me," Adrian says, but his words don't quite match his expression. That's when I realise he probably hasn't been outside for long, hasn't seen the horrors up close.

Adrian swivels around on his chair. "Want to see when you guys came in?"

"You still have it?" I sit in the chair next to him and watch him tap away at the keyboard.

"We have everything on record. That's the thing about scientists, they keep records: video, log books, security footage, everything."

"Makes sense."

Adrian pauses and looks over suddenly. "You have a lovely voice."

A weird shiver runs through me. "I do?"

"Yeah." Adrian turns back to the computer screen. "I'm used to silence. All day, every day." He laughs. "It's nice to hear a nice voice."

"Oh, right. Why don't you just help out with work or school if you're so bored?"

Adrian pauses and smiles at his screen. He turns slowly, a condescending look on his face. "I'm not allowed to. I'm kind of banned."

"Why?"

"I don't know why." He laughs and turns back to his screen. "Dad's rules. Only a fool questions his father." He points to a blank screen just to the right of me. It flickers to life with a black and white image of the street.

The picture crackles and jumps for a moment but settles into the recording. A counter in the top corner measures the time, right down to the second.

"Here." Adrian's eyes are glued to the screen. "Here you guys come, driving in the car and BAM! You take out the infected guy. And..." He pauses to let the picture catch up to his commentary. "You hit the post. You can see the airbag there, that white bit."

"I didn't have an airbag," I say, watching the few seconds of stillness before the car doors start popping open. I can see myself, dazed, stumbling to the back of the car. It's weird watching myself. I look like any old fuzzy anonymous person on security footage.

"Right. Now we switch to the inner mounted camera." Adrian presses a button and the angle changes. It's further back and we're running toward the camera now, being chased down by an absolute hoard of infected people.

"Kid in a wheelchair, hey?" Adrian grins. "That's classy."

"What did you expect? That we'd ditch him?"

He glances at me. "Most people would."

"Most people are stupid."

Adrian laughs like it's a hilarious joke and not a general reality. He jabs his finger to the monitor. "Watch this."

The angle changes again to one inside the elevator. "This is my favourite part," Adrian says. He watches with great amusement, as if he's at the local cinema and not watching real people almost bite the dust. "Look... there's the swarm of infected closing in... and there you are, standing in the doorway going head to head with them. The only possible way that could be cooler is if someone put a samurai sword in your hand."

I watch myself, and remember being down there, holding Liss' hand, knowing we were about to die. I don't remember it being cool or funny or entertaining.

"And doors shut..." he says. "Elevator starts and here it comes..." He claps his hands loudly and I jump.

"There goes the wheelchair kid and then the old guy. Drop, drop, dropping like flies and... there you go! You guys just got chlorofined."

"Got what?"

"The gas. It's a refined version of chloroform we've been working on here. It's much safer to use on groups with different sized bodies because it won't overdose the smaller ones. Anyway, when you press the elevator button it releases chlorofine into the air so that when you reach the top you're manageable, and if you're infected, you're disposed."

"Seriously? How many do you have to dispose of?"

"A few. I don't know the exact numbers."

The screen pauses on our limp bodies, strewn across the elevator. "How do you dispose of them?"

"Incineration."

"That's a lovely picture."

Adrian laughs. "Funny."

"How long have you been in here?" I ask. "You seem... desensitised."

"Right from the start. I guess I've seen so much on the monitors it doesn't really affect me."

I look back at the screen thinking that if Adrian had to survive outside, he wouldn't last five minutes. I grip the edges of my chair and wait as the urge to punch him in the face subsides slowly. "How come this camera station isn't manned?"

"What's there to man?" He shrugs. "No one wants to break out, and it's not like we're stopping people from coming in. We don't really have crime so... what's the point?"

"It could be your job," I say, swivelling my chair from side to side.

Adrian looks amused. "I'd go mad! Stuck in this dark little room all day." He stares at me. "Maybe if I had company."

"Um... anyway," I say, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible. "What now?"

Adrian leans an elbow on the desk. "That depends on what you want to see next."

Since I'm feeling pretty awkward sitting in a tiny dark room with a guy who's clearly lost the ability to socialise in a non-creepy way, I'd say anywhere would be better. "Can I have a look at the laboratories?"

Adrian slaps his hand down on the desk. "Yeah right! They're full of scientists and doctors who would freak out if you went anywhere near them."

I nod and look away, pressing my lips together. I try to put on the most unimpressed look I have. "I didn't think you'd be up to it. Pity. I would have thought..."

Adrian leans forward in his chair. "Hey, I didn't say I couldn't, I just said not right _now_."

I look back, almost too eager. I hope he doesn't notice. "When then?"

He shrugs, taps his hand against the bench. "I bet I could sneak you in tonight."

"Cool," I say. "What time?"

"It has to be late, like midnight. I can meet you outside your room if you like."

"Oh... alright."

Do I feel bad for manipulating the poor socially deprived guy just to get a peek at the inner workings of the facility? Hang on, that makes it sound like I have sympathy for him. I don't, not one drop. If this is my new home then I want to know everything about it, including what's behind the locked doors. So no, I don't feel bad. I don't trust anyone.

"You want to see something else?" he asks.

"Sure." I follow Adrian down the corridor.

"You're not supposed to know about this either, but I don't care. They don't come out here during work hours."

We stop at a door with another code box. I pretend to glance around but watch out of the corner of my eye as he punches in his numbers. I actually manage to catch the first three digits: four-two-six.

The passageway beyond leads to a dimly lit set of stairs. We go straight up and hit another coded door. I can't see anything over Adrian's shoulder this time. When he opens the door, light pours through, a warm breeze sweeps over us and we step out onto the roof.

### Chapter 16

"OH MY GOD," I say. "You can go outside?"

"Yeah," Adrian grins. "I can. The staff can. But you're not supposed to."

"Lucky me," I say, peering over the side.

"Careful. You go over and you have to go through decontamination again."

"And I'd probably die." The drop must be three or four stories straight down onto concrete. I also notice the fire escape ladder, screwed into the side of the building. Even that still leaves a drop of two or three metres to the ground.

"Yeah," he laughs. "That too."

Beyond the building is a deserted car park. "The infected can't get in here?" I say.

Adrian leans his palms on the ledge. "See that fence over there with the barbed wire?"

"Yeah."

"It's electrified. So yeah, this is a no go zone for infected individuals."

"What about that one?" I point to the perimeter fence that leads onto the back of some properties.

"Nah, we don't have any trouble from behind the houses. Just the main roads."

I turn around and look at the space. The rooftop is small, with just a few benches and an ashtray half-filled with cigarette butts. "Where do they get smokes from?"

"There's a vending machine in the scientist quarters but eventually it'll run out. You smoke?"

I shake my head and sit on one of the benches. "How do you feed this many people? Where do you get the food from?"

"Um, all over Melbourne there are these secret bunkers with emergency supplies hidden away. Things like tinned food, medical supplies, water and..."

I quirk an eyebrow. "These nifty uniforms?"

Adrian looks up and cracks a smile. "Yeah. Exactly. Hey, you hungry?"

I shrug.

He looks away, tapping his foot against the leg of the bench. "Real food, I mean. Not that slop you have to eat."

I stare at the ground for a moment. "How?"

Adrian just grins and begins to back away. "Wait here. I'll be ten minutes."

I stand up suddenly. "What if someone comes out here?"

"Relax," he says over his shoulder. "They won't. I'll be back soon."

The door closes behind him with a small clank.

I inhale the warm air and sit again. Even though it's warm the sky is cloudy and the gradient of darkness becomes bolder toward the horizon. The breeze blows over my face as I stare out at the unfolding weather.

Well, this day is not at all what I'd expected. I thought I might get to wander around for a while, bored out of my brains, and then sleep for the rest of it. Instead, I feel like I'm backstage at a huge concert, being ushered around, seeing things that aren't for mortal eyes.

I'm pretty sure Adrian is just looking for someone, anyone, to talk to. And I'm pretty sure I'm just riding his wave of need for my own cause. For _our_ own cause. Suddenly I remember Kean and Trouble are on rubbish duties, and Liss and Henry are sitting in their classroom. I wonder what happens when Liss turns sixteen? What's the best she can hope for, rubbish duty? Some form of manual labour to keep the facility running? What if she spends her best years grinding away in useless jobs, all for the safety of shelter and a bit of bland food?

What if they never find a cure in her lifetime? Is that what I want for Liss? We survived everything out there: hordes of infected people, hunger and thirst and daily danger. Could I be happy if this is all we become? Would it be worth it? And when I'm healed and put on rubbish duty... that's it?

The door opens a crack and I whip my head over. It creeps open and Adrian backs out holding a drinks tray and a paper bag.

"Miss me?" he says.

I just smile and eye the drinks.

"Coffee," he says, boosting the tray up. Adrian sits next to me, so close that the white legs of our uniforms slide up against each other. He doesn't seem to notice, but I scoot away giving myself more room, because I definitely notice. "Where'd you get coffee from?" I ask.

Adrian passes me the paper cup. I don't feel anything straight away but soon the warmth spreads through the bandages and reaches my hands.

"It's like rocket fuel for scientists," he says, putting down his own cup and riffling through the bag. "I didn't know what you like so I grabbed a few things... chicken pieces..." he says, pulling each listed item out of the bag and placing it on the space I've made between us on the bench. "Bread, butter, salad... oh, I brought juice as well, in case you don't like coffee. Sound good?"

"Sounds... amazing." I take a sip of the coffee; it's hot and bitter. Coffee used to be my staple breakfast, that and Vegemite on toast. I'd almost forgotten the glorious taste. "How come you have chicken and bread and vegetables?"

Adrian glances up as he butters the bread. "We have chickens and veggie gardens. The butter and yeast and stuff were part of the emergency supply. It's all refrigerated. And the chickens and veggies... well, they're lab grown but are perfectly safe to eat. Just grown with fake sun."

Adrian passes me a chicken salad sandwich. I take a bite and look over at him. "Oh my God," I say, and little crumbs of bread shoot out, landing on his own sandwich. I move to cover my mouth and mumble, "Sorry."

Adrian shrugs and makes a point of taking a bite. He looks out over the rooftops and trees, to the deep grey band on the horizon. "Storm's coming," he says.

Suddenly I miss Liss and Kean and the others. I don't know why, but the feeling spreads through me like a cold chill. I'm not used to being alone, or with unfamiliar company. The breeze picks up and whips the steam off the top of my coffee. The dark clouds extend toward us like smoky claws.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, resting the second half of my sandwich on my knees.

Adrian's already finished his, and he hangs his arm over the back of the bench, sipping his coffee. "Sure."

"Is your mum here?"

"Ah..." Adrian scratches his head for a while and finally stretches his shoulders out. "Not here. I didn't really know her, she left when I was four."

"Oh, sorry."

Adrian shrugs. "I never knew her so... it's not like a major loss or anything."

We sit in silence for a while, sipping on coffee, watching the skies grow dark and tormented. When I finish, I don't have any room for the rest of the sandwich and I'm thinking of ways to smuggle it out for Liss.

"I'm kind of tired," I say, looking down at my hands. "I might go back and rest."

Adrian looks over. "Will I see you tonight?" His eyes are shining and eager. He leans forward and I feel myself leaning back a bit, trying to clear the suspicion from my face.

"The labs," he says. "I'm taking you on a tour, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

He nods and straightens.

"Can I take the rest of my sandwich?"

Adrian rolls his tongue over his teeth as he makes his decision. "Don't let anyone else see it, ok?"

I smile, big and bold, and instantly it puts him at ease. "Can I take the juice too?"

He glances down at the full bottle. "You can't let anyone see it. Not even your friends. I don't want to start a riot. And don't chuck the bottle away either. Give it to me tonight. I'll get rid of the evidence."

"Ok. I'll do that." I wrap up the sandwich in the paper bag and drop in the juice. "I can let myself back in."

"I'm coming inside anyway. It's depressing sitting out here alone. Besides I've got stuff to do."

Adrian walks me back through the halls, all the way to my room and doesn't leave until I close the door. Yeah, that's a little bit creepy but I guess if I had no one and no purpose, I'd go a bit crazy too.

I slide onto my bed and lie back in the shadow cast by the bunk above. A fluorescent tube flickers on the roof and makes a funny noise. I'm not really tired enough to sleep; I just want to see the others as soon as they come back.

After some hours of staring at the door, it swings open and Henry and Liss come in.

"Hey," I call up to them.

Liss ducks down and smiles. She wriggles in beside me.

"How was school?" I ask.

"Ok," Liss says.

Henry pulls himself up onto his bed. "It was a bit... I don't know. Some of the kids are weird."

"Did you guys make any friends?"

"Well... there was this one boy Sam but..." Liss' words trail off as she gently prods the bandages on my hands.

"It's not like school at all," Henry says. "We don't do much. We draw or muck about or do these stupid activity sheets."

"Why can't you come to school with us?" Liss shuffles around to give me the full weight of her stare.

"I'm too old." I shrug. "Hey, I got you guys something."

They both lean over as I reveal the half sandwich and bottle of juice. "You guys want to share? It's real chicken."

Liss looks back at Henry and they both go boggle-eyed. "No way! How'd you get it?"

I break the sandwich in half and hand them a piece each. "Hey, I have connections. But don't tell anyone or we might not get anymore."

It goes quiet as they munch away. I crank open the juice bottle and hand it over. They share the juice, passing it back and forth. It's nice to watch them sharing, because I imagine it's one of those qualities that not many people can afford to have anymore. It kind of makes me feel proud.

Liss licks every last morsel from her fingers.

"Feel better?" I ask.

She nods. Liss and Henry sip on the juice for a while, both trying to make sure the other gets the very last bit. It's like some kind of backward game where the loser is really the winner. Finally Liss groans in defeat and drinks the last drop. I put the bottle back into the paper bag, just as Kean and Trouble come through the door.

We all look up.

"How was it?" I ask.

They both look tired. Kean ruffles his hair and sits down next to Henry. Trouble slides his back down the door and sits cross-legged on the concrete floor. No one says anything but the mood changes, like a wind snuffing out our flame.

I glance between Kean and Trouble but neither wants to make eye contact with me. "Is it bad?" I say.

Finally Kean sighs. "Can anyone say slave driver?"

I feel my brow furrow. "Really?"

He looks down at me. "There are only so many bins to clear, right? So when we're done it's like they feel compelled to keep us busy, like we might start a riot otherwise. We just do the same thing over and over again. Sorting rubbish into piles, into boxes and bags. For no apparent reason. And, oh my God, the smell." Kean pinches his nose and Trouble does the same thing and nods. "If they had whips, I'm sure they'd use them. I swear I could have punched the main guy, Arnold. He was up in Trouble's face the whole time, speaking loud and slow. It was embarrassing."

"You think Trouble knows what the guy was saying?"

"How could he not? His tone, his body language..." Kean rubs his hands on his knees. "Anyway, how was school?"

"Not much better," I say.

Henry flicks Kean on the shoulder. "Activity sheets! What am I, five?"

Kean gives me a long hard stare, like he wants to say more but can't. "Should we head to dinner then?"

"Yeah," I say. "Before we miss it."

### Chapter 17

DINNER IS TINNED mushrooms and a handful of rice. If it wasn't for the salt and pepper the meal would have no taste at all, like eating textured air.

"Cardboard probably has more nutrients than this crap," Kean says, spearing a droopy mushroom on his fork.

Every one eats slowly, picking over the food as if there might be something extra hiding under the rice or disguised in the mushrooms. The morale at our table is pretty low, like everyone has suddenly flat-lined.

Kean is sitting across from me so I kick him gently under the table and look away. He stares at me for a moment and a few seconds later I get the response I'm after. He steps on my toes, pretending to squish them and I stifle my smile. "As if I don't have enough injuries," I say under my breath.

Kean tips his head back, pushes away his empty plate and releases the pressure on my toes, but he does leave his shoe overlapping mine. "And how was your day?"

I shrug with one shoulder. "I have a few things to show you."

Kean arches one eyebrow and the other quickly follows. "Interesting. You finished?"

I roll my eyes. "Not _that_ kind of interesting."

"Well, I've been staring at rubbish all day so pretty much anything's going to be better than that." Kean stands up and leans forward on the table. "We'll meet you guys back in the room later."

Me and Kean take our trays to the rubbish trolley and I hear Henry in the background saying, "There they go again, running off into the sunset."

I step out into the corridor as Liss and Henry start giggling. Kean looks over. "So you've been sleuthing all day?"

I start walking and he follows. "Actually, I've been hanging out with a mad scientist's son."

Kean makes a surprised frown. "Should I be jealous?"

"He's a bit too weird for me." I cross my arms loosely. "Have you met Doctor Harding?"

Kean shakes his head.

"Doctor Harding gave me my check up. He's... weird too. It's like they've forgotten how to act around people." We pass the library and stop at the surveillance room door. "I'm pretty sure Harding runs this place. Anyway, it was his son I met today, Adrian. And he happened to show me around."

Kean listens with a flat expression and then purses his lips. "How am I supposed to compete with that?"

I rub the side of my face and laugh into my hand. "Anyway..." I glance down the corridor to make sure it's clear. "Yeah, anyway, this is where all the security camera feeds come into. It's full of monitors. He even showed me a recording of us arriving."

Kean tries the door handle and looks back at me.

"You need a code to get in... to get anywhere important around here. I caught the first three numbers but the rest..." I shrug.

"How many cameras are there? And where?"

I touch my temple trying to remember. "Like thirty something, mostly on the outer and inner perimeter, a few in the elevator and the rest in the labs."

"None in here?" Kean glances around.

"Nope, none in any of our living quarters or hallways, just the science labs."

"That's weird. Almost like we don't matter."

"I don't know, I'd rather not be on camera twenty four seven. And there's more."

I take him further along the corridor to the rooftop door. "You know how you said there was no way out?"

"Yeah." Kean looks over the door with curiosity.

"Behind this is a stairway leading to the rooftop."

"You went out there with him?"

I nod. "There's a fire escape ladder over the side of the building, and he says the main fence against the road is electrified but there's a part that backs onto houses that's not."

Kean is staring sideways at the wall with a strange expression. I can't tell if he's just soaking in the information or kind of edging into anger.

"Either way," he says, with a tiny shake of his head. "It's not much of an exit if we don't have the door code. The full door code."

"I can get it."

Kean glances up. "At what cost?"

"What do you mean? They take me through the doors every time I have a check up. And every time Adrian takes me somewhere new. I'll get it eventually."

"Do you even know this guy? Don't you think it's dangerous? What if he's a serial killer?"

My lips fall into a frown and I lean my shoulder against the wall. "You're not going to like the rest then."

Kean takes a sharp breath and steps closer. "Go on."

"I talked Adrian into sneaking me into the labs... tonight."

"Why do you want to see the labs?"

"Don't you? Don't you want to be sure of everything before you settle here?"

Kean drops his head, pulls his eyebrows taut and kind of shrugs his shoulders. I can't understand it. And then he lifts one of his hands and touches my waist. I can't move. All I can think about is his hand resting on my hip. I lean the side of my head against the wall and barely hear his words.

"Can't you ever stop being the hero? You'll get yourself in serious trouble one day."

Suddenly a set of footsteps comes towards us. We both look up and a small dark haired woman passes us by without even a glance. She continues on around the corner and I keep my head turned in her direction.

Kean lifts his other hand so that he's holding my waist now, holding me in place. "What are you trying to find?"

"Nothing." I look back and we're so close our noses nearly touch. I drop my chin. "Nothing. I just want to know what they're doing behind all the locked doors. I don't understand why you don't."

"I do. I want to know what's going on. But I'm not prepared to put you in danger all the time."

"No one else can do it," I say.

"Give me a day and I'll get my flirt on with the weird guy. _I'll_ do it. Let me do something."

I can't help but crack a smile. I glance up, just for a second, and it's all the time he needs. Kean pulls me in close and presses his lips to mine. At first I don't do anything; I'm just in pure shock, eyes wide open. Our lips sit still against each other like we've turned into a photograph. I don't know how long we stay locked together this way but it feels endless.

Kean lifts his hands and holds my neck, sending spears of shivers over my skin. I close my eyes, his mouth opens against mine. His warm lips slide over me and my arms hang limp at my sides. I'm like a puppet with broken strings and can't work on my own.

It's wonderful and horrible at the same time. As we stand in the cold corridor locked in this kiss, I almost forget which way is up and which is down. I like Kean, I really like him but I shouldn't get this luxury in the outbreak. He's like a brick wall building between Liss and I. A really lovely, warm, kind, charming brick wall. Dammit. But a barrier nonetheless.

He pulls back but keeps my head in his hands, which is probably a good idea because I feel like I might collapse at any second. My brain is searching for words that don't seem to exist anymore.

"If you want to go into the labs then go. I won't stop you, it's just..." Kean bites his lip ever so slightly. "Don't get caught. Don't get killed."

I stare up at his clear green eyes. "I can't get killed here. We're safe."

His hands shift, sliding a few centimetres down toward my shoulders, and I swear nothing has ever felt as good.

I make a strange noise, almost a tiny laugh, and Kean smiles. He lowers his fingers from my neck and takes one of my bandaged hands. We walk back to the room slowly. I still feel like I'm in shock, worse than any car crash or infected person could ever do to me. This is something all new. How could I never know this existed?

"What's the plan?" Kean asks when we reach the door of our room.

"He's meeting me here at midnight. Apparently that's the only time the labs are scientist free."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You've done enough today," I say.

Kean pushes open the door with a smile.

All five of us hang around playing snap with a pack of cards Kean found on rubbish duty. It's the only card game we've successfully taught Trouble and somehow it always manages to get us all distracted and laughing.

At ten the lights automatically go off and a small yellow backup light comes on, dusting the room with just enough illumination to make out the edges of the bunk beds.

For the next two hours I wait in my bed, wide-awake and kind of nervous. Kean stays awake with me, every now and then I look over and he's watching me but we don't say anything in case we wake the others.

It does give me plenty of time to think about that kiss though, to replay it over and over in my mind. Kean says I'm bold, but never in a million years could I have done that... just step up and kiss someone. And now I can't get him out of my head, even though I should be thinking ahead and keeping my mind clear; he fogs me up.

Kean smiles, as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking, and I have to look away. I just watch the clock for a while. With five minutes to go, I grab the paper bag, slide out silently and point to the door. Kean nods but his face is grim. I try to shake the image from my mind, and I slip out into the silent corridor.

### Chapter 18

ADRIAN IS ALREADY waiting for me, with his arms crossed and shoulder against the wall. He pushes off when he sees me and nods down the hallway. "Right on time."

"Always am," I say in a low voice. "You sure this is ok?"

Adrian glances over as we walk. "You're not scared now, are you?"

I shoot him my best unimpressed look. "No, I just don't want to get in trouble with your dad."

Adrian nods. "He can be an real... iron fist sometimes."

"You don't get to manage a place like this by being soft, I guess."

We reach a glass door and I glance over when Adrian taps in the code. I don't catch any more numbers but I know they're somewhere down the bottom.

The door hisses open and I follow him through into the restricted area.

"You know," he says. "When you walk I can't even hear your footsteps."

I shrug. "How do you think I survived outside?" I pass him the paper bag and he takes it, saying nothing.

The concrete walls give way to glass. I stop and press my fingertips against the window. Beyond is the decontamination room, and I can see the man lying in a hospital gown, wires and tubes extending from his arms, connecting to machines.

"Can we go in?" I ask, dropping my hands.

Adrian pulls his sleeve over his palm, rubs my invisible fingerprints from the glass and shrugs. He punches in the code with his thumb and because I'm standing on his right now, I manage to work out the next number: eight, but miss the last three. So far all I've got is four-two-six-eight.

A dull thrumming sound comes from the machines. Graphs continually flash up on the computer monitors, rewriting themselves every twenty seconds or so. I walk over to the end unit, where the man is unconscious on a bed. "What's his name?" I ask, peering through the thick glass.

Adrian steps up right behind me, so close that when he speaks I feel his breath on my ear. "Three six two."

I can't move away because Adrian's blocking me with his body. Electric panic sends the hairs on the back of my neck straight up, and I find myself staring at his reflection in the glass. If I've learnt one thing since the outbreak, it's to trust my gut instinct. Trusting it got me this far and right now it says, be calm, stay dormant. Be the unsuspecting predator just lying in wait. I swallow back my discomfort. "That's a number," I say. "Not a name."

"We're all numbers here. Even me." Adrian steps to the side, releasing me from his invisible grip. He rolls up his uniform cuff and shows me his number: zero-zero-two.

"Number two?" Something in me finds that kind of funny and maybe a bit sad, but I don't let it show.

He nods, looking down at his tag. "And when dad gets too old to run this place, I'll become number one."

"You'll be in charge?"

He grins. "Cool, hey."

It takes every ounce of my being to not betray my horror at this moment. I clear my throat. "What's next on the tour?"

"Right this way," he says. Adrian opens the coded door and I follow him further down the corridor. There are a few doors on the left that must be offices; they all have nameplates mounted at eye level. We pass Doctor Hope's office and make a final turn. Adrian stops at a plain looking door and whips his thumb over the number pad. He puts his index finger to his lips and pushes the door open, just enough to peek in.

This corridor is slightly different. Instead of having transparent windows, it's full of dark mirrors that display our reflections. Gee, that's not suspicious at all. I mean, whatever's on the other side of the wall must be pretty important if they don't even want it on display to their own staff.

Adrian beckons for me and holds the door open.

I go through first. It's a rather small room, plain, with desks around the outer walls and computer monitors flashing and humming. The corridor mirrors turns out to be one-way glass. You can't see in from the hall, but you can see out of the lab. Great for spying.

The opposite wall of the lab is half wood, half normal glass. Beyond it stretches a seemingly endless line of similar rooms. It reminds me of a house of mirrors, where your reflection is creepily multiplied thousands of times.

"Whoa," I say, sounding overly enthused.

"You like that?" Adrian stands next to me.

"How far back does it go?"

"Sixteen labs, not including this one, because this is just where they do random paper work and stuff. It's more like an office."

"Huh." I glance around. "How far in can we go?"

Adrian looks unsure.

"Can we at least go into the next room since this isn't even a lab?"

He looks at me sternly. "Just one and that's it."

I follow him through the next coded door.

"All those codes must be annoying," I say. "What is this, like a nuclear weapons facility or something?"

"Not exactly." Adrian pauses and looks at me for a while, then he smiles. "But probably just as volatile." Adrian sits on a swivel seat at a corner desk and watches me wander around.

In the very centre of the room is a bench with stacked cages of live rats; big and fat, their white bodies make eerie shuffling and squeaking noises. It's really horrible to look at actually. I've never really had a pet before but I know it feels wrong keeping them all crowded in a tiny space. "What are they for?"

"Tests."

I almost don't want to ask but I do. "What kind of tests?"

"Antidote tests."

I tip my head to one side. "They're kind of cute."

Adrian snorts a laugh. "They're ugly."

I move away and pass a desk full of paper work. Along the wall is a bench with three sinks and cupboard space underneath. All the cupboard doors have metal grilles built in, maybe to keep the air flow going, and I wonder if they keep more animals in there. "Why is it so cold in here? It's like a fridge."

"Air conditioning and filtration system." Adrian points to the ceiling. Above me is a plastic grate, big enough to climb through. I shiver.

"Dad likes it cold."

"I'm sure he does," I say.

Suddenly Adrian goes rigid in his chair. "Get down," he commands in a low sharp tone. I drop to the ground and stare at him from my hands and knees position. He's looking through the glass, into the first room. Adrian drops down below the window line and scuttles to me. "Get in the cupboard," he whispers, pulling it open. It's empty and he shoves me with urgency. I twist around, pull in my legs and he shuts the door.

"Don't move, don't make a sound. Don't try and leave." Adrian runs, half bent over, back to the chair and begins going through the papers on the desk just as the lab door hisses open.

I sit frozen, hugging my knees to my chest. I can just see out the grille. A pair of bare ankles in black heels rush in. The feet stop in front of me, pointing away.

"Adrian," A confused female voice says. "What are you doing here?"

The woman walks over to him. She's wearing a lab coat, a white skirt and the same jacket uniform as the rest of us.

"Oh, hey, Sammy," Adrian says. He actually manages to sound pretty casual. "Do you know where the X-gen research is? Dad sent me to get it."

"Forget that," she says, rolling onto the balls of her feet. "Go get your father. I have something to show him."

Adrian swivels around in his chair. "What is it?"

"Just get him. We're on the verge of a break through."

Adrian gives her a bored look. "At half past midnight?"

"Would it kill you to help, Adrian?"

Adrian shrugs. "Maybe. Why chance it, I say."

"If you take him the news he might think you had something to do with it."

"True." Adrian stands up. "I'll be back in a second." He glances toward my cupboard and his eyes go wide for a second. It's not like I could move even if I wanted to, I'm jammed so tightly in here.

The door closes and suddenly I'm alone in the lab with the female scientist. Without the constant dialogue between her and Adrian, it gets deathly silent. I focus on breathing as quietly as I can and try not to move an inch.

The woman stands with her back to me, leaning over a computer, rapidly typing. I wonder what would happen if she found me hiding in the cupboard. Would it warrant punishment or would she just laugh it off?

Sammy's pretty absorbed with the computer monitor at the moment and I could probably slip out of my hiding place unnoticed. But then I remember Adrian's last words to me: _don't try to leave_. Even if I got to the door unnoticed, I don't have the code. And to get back to my room I need to use it three times.

The door opens a few minutes later and Doctor Harding marches in, his beady grey eyes converging on the woman. Adrian wanders in after him.

"Sammy?" Doctor Harding stands next to her and crosses his arms.

"I was going over the patient notes in my quarters and came across this..." she points to a sheet of paper and pushes it across the desk to him.

Adrian lingers, leaning against one of the benches while I sit cramped in the dark cupboard watching.

"Subject C appears to be regressing. Not quickly by any standard means, but look at the blood work from the last twenty-four hours. Compare it to now."

Doctor Harding holds the papers up to his nose and then looks over them at Sammy. "Any visible change?"

Sammy shakes her head. "I haven't checked yet."

Doctor Harding blinks. "Do it. I'll need a full work up immediately and round the clock observation. If she gets better or worse, I want to know."

Doctor Harding spins suddenly and walks to the cage of rats. He tips his head to one side and peers at them. "We'll need to broaden the subject scope. Male, female... youths too. Find out if there are any discrepancies."

"Of course, Doctor Harding. At once." Sammy gathers her paper work and strides to the door that leads further into the line of labs. Doctor Harding is about to follow her when he turns back. "Adrian, get Hope, Sanders, and Roth."

"Sure thing, dad."

Finally Doctor Harding lets the door close behind him and Adrian pauses, watching them disappear. He glances over his shoulder too. "Ok, lets get out of here."

I fall out of the cupboard. "Ow, that was so painful."

"That was close," Adrian says, still looking behind. He grabs my elbow and drags me out into the office, back out into the hallway.

We hustle over to the civilian side of the facility.

"That's good right?" I say wrestling my elbow back from his pincer grip. "Regressing is good. That means the infection might be curable."

"Quiet," Adrian says.

When we reach the door he's so tense that he looks over his shoulder as he punches the code in, and that's all I need to catch the last digits.

Suddenly I have the full code.

I step through and thankfully he doesn't follow. He doesn't belong on this side of the facility.

"Adrian," I say.

Finally he looks up at me, his hand still on the code box.

"That was amazing." I force a smile and make it sickly sweet, like I'm really appreciative.

He straightens. "It was?"

"Yeah, totally cool." I nod. "Thanks."

Adrian smiles suddenly and starts nodding. "Sure, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Uh, sure." I step away and give him a tiny wave. "Night."

"Night—" The door closes behind me and cuts off his last word. I race back to my room, finally able to use all that adrenaline that's been pumping since I was shoved in a tiny cupboard.

I almost trip over Kean as I reach the door. He's sitting on the floor outside and jumps when I come racing around the corner.

"What is it?" He launches up.

I take his hand and drag him into the empty female bathroom, right into a shower cubicle. When I stop he looks totally worried. I lean my head back against the wall. "You really have to get the next mission," I say. "I feel like my lucky streak is almost up."

"What happened?"

I take a slow breath and tell him everything.

"Are you alright?" he says.

I nod quickly and pull him into a hug.

"Also are you high?" Kean laughs gently and wraps his arms around me. "Just what kind of labs are they?"

I sit my head just beneath his chin, still trying to catch my breath. "I got the code."

"What are you going to do with it?" Kean's voice vibrates through his chest. "You want to make a break for it?"

I pull back so I can see his face. "Do you want to?"

Kean drops his eyes for a moment and shrugs. "I don't know. It's like that seatbelt catch twenty-two thing you said. We stay here and we can't get away quick enough, but outside we always run the risk of dying."

"They have the virus in here. Inside the facility. No wonder every door is coded. They're experimenting on rats."

"God, it's like we can't get away from this disease, no matter what we do." Kean glances at my forehead. "You can't really go anywhere with your stitches and broken fingers."

I nod. "We should stay then. For a little while."

"Just until you're healed. I don't know how much more rubbish I can sort." He puts his lips against my forehead. "What's the code?"

I tap it out on his chest with my finger. "Four-two-six-eight-four-two-six."

"Is that a circle?"

I nod. "Pretty easy to remember, hey."

"Wow. Sometimes you're such a genius."

"You mean all the time."

He groans a little. "I really like you, Florence."

He must feel the tension run through my body because he pulls back and studies my face.

"Don't give me that look," he says. "The one that says it's not safe, we can't. One kiss isn't going to kill anyone, especially not Liss."

"I know. I just..." I shake my head because I don't know what I'm trying to say. Maybe all these crazy feelings can't be categorised into words. Maybe they're just there to be felt and never understood. "I just..."

He waits, still studying my face as if it has all the secret answers.

"I like you... I just don't know how to, with all this other stuff going on. It's hard to focus on anything."

"Is that all? That's the only reason?"

I tip my head back and glare at the ceiling but my lips curl into a smile. "Yes. Whatever. Lets go to bed, you've got work tomorrow."

"Hey, whoa, that's moving a bit fast, don't you think? I'm not sure I'm ready for that," he says. A grin brightens his face.

I shove him back against the wall, pretty hard too. "Ha, ha. Aren't you funny." I step back into the bathroom.

"I like to think so," Kean says, following.

***

At six I wake with a shock to the piercing morning alarm. Everyone starts groaning in protest. Henry pulls his pillow over his head and Kean rubs his eyes with his palms.

"Well, that was a rubbish sleep," Kean says. His voice sounds croaky and tired, and really it's my fault.

"Hah, I get it," Henry says, lifting his pillow off his head. "Rubbish... because you're in the business of rubbish."

"Oh my God." Kean rolls out of bed and kneels on the ground next to his bunk. A faint grin traces his lips. "You used to be funny, Henry. What happened?"

Henry swats his pillow at Kean's head. "It's all those stupid activity sheets dumbing me down."

Kean wrestles the pillow off him. "Just remember to colour inside the lines, not outside."

Henry pulls himself into a sitting position. "Yeah, I learnt that when I was five."

"Whatever." Kean stands up and stretches his hands above his head, yawning. "Let's get breakfast."

Everyone seems reluctant to move. Trouble stares at the ceiling, and something about him seems off. I watch him for a while before realising he looks odd because he's not smiling. On the outside, even when surrounded by infected people, he seemed peaceful, but right now he looks tense.

Liss is still pretending to be asleep. Henry and Kean are play fighting and Henry is yelling, "Don't make me go back to school! I'll get dumber!"

I sigh and sit on the end of Liss' bed. I don't feel like getting up either but it doesn't seem like we have a choice. While we're here we have to play by their rules. I look back at Liss and wonder how long we can last like this.

### Chapter 19

THIS MORNING DOCTOR Hope collects me from my room and leads me into her office. It's a nice room, deliriously neat and tidy, not a fleck of dirt on the ground or speck of dust on her desk. Not that we have any dirt here to traipse around in anyway. All her stationary is lined up in a precise row. On a tray, she has scissors, tweezers, a box of gloves, some tape and a few bandages set out.

"Sit," she says, pulling on latex gloves. She peels back my forehead bandage. The silence becomes to weird for me, and I just can't resist saying something, anything. "Found a cure yet?"

"Not yet," she says, inspecting my head. "But we'll keep looking."

"Ok... Hey, um, I wanted to ask you something."

"Hold still." She picks up the scissors and starts snipping at the stitches. When she's finished she grabs the tweezers. "Ask away."

I feel a tugging sensation as she pulls each one out. I wonder how big the scar will be. "Do many people leave Arcadium?" I ask.

Doctor Hope pauses. The tweezers hover dangerously close to my eye. "No one leaves." She pulls out another stitch and discards it on the tray. "Why would anyone want to leave? It's dangerous out there." The last stitch sticks and stings when she yanks it out. She drops her eyes to mine. "Do you want to leave?"

"No, of course not. I was just wondering if people ever do, you know, move on."

She stares at me for way too long before setting down the tweezers. "No, they don't." Doctor Hope sprays something on my forehead and dabs it dry with a bandage. "I think we'll leave this one open to the air. It's healing well."

Doctor Hope snaps off her gloves and drops them on the tray. "On the outside you may think it's just a matter of surviving." She unwraps the bandages from my hands. "But it's not. It's simply a question of how long your luck lasts. You can't run and hide forever. The infection is simply too aggressive."

"Besides, you'll find a cure, right?"

"I think we'd all like that."

For a moment I wonder what would happen if they found a cure tomorrow. Would we all get to stay together now that we have no one else? Would we all be able to go back to school and back to work and forget about the time the world went crazy?

Doctor Hope begins peeling off the tape and splints. My palms seem to have a permanent bandage texture imprinted on them, and my fingers have calmed down a bit; the bruises are going bright yellow. There's still a bit of swelling but they look way better.

"I'll need an x-ray for our records and we'll put the splints back on just to make sure they're healing straight. So, if you'd like to come with me."

I follow her out into the hallway and when we turn the corner I see Adrian wandering towards us.

"Hey," he says, waving. "What's going on?"

I hold up my hands. "I'm getting an x-ray."

"Cool. Mind if I tag along?"

"It's not like you have anything better to do, is it?"

Adrian smiles and falls into step next to me. "How observant of you."

Doctor Hope ducks into a room and we follow. Inside is a giant x-ray machine, humming beneath dim blue lighting. There's a shield to one side, which Doctor Hope steps behind. When she returns she straps something that looks like a bulletproof vest to me. "To shield you from excess radiation," she explains.

She places my hand on the machine.

"What about my arm then?" I say.

Doctor Hope and Adrian step behind the shield and I hear Adrian call out, "It's only your vital organs they worry about. The rest doesn't matter."

Great, so when my arm falls off later from too much radiation, it won't matter. Unless it gives me super powers that allow me to dispatch pesky infected people with a mere flick of the wrist. I could deal with that.

"Stay still," Doctor Hope calls.

I take a deep breath and watch them behind the shield.

A few minutes later comes the call, "All done."

She steps out from behind her shield, whips off my protective gear and powers down the machine. Soon Adrian and I are following her back into her office.

She tapes my fingers back together. On my left hand she has to use a splint and loads of tape to keep them straight but on my right hand she just needs a bit of tape. "All done," she says. "Adrian, would you mind letting her out, I have to get back to work. And don't forget you're having brunch with your father today."

Adrian groans. "How could I forget when everyone keeps reminding me?" He turns to me. "Let's get out of here before anyone else mentions it." He leaps up and pulls the door open like he's in the middle of a tantrum. Outside he just smiles. "You look different without your giant bandages everywhere."

I smile as best I can but really it's just so he doesn't see the awkwardness I feel. "Brunch with daddy?" I say.

Adrian rolls his eyes. We reach the coded glass door and he punches in the digits. "I get called upon every now and then. He tries to teach me stuff. It's so boring."

"Well, you have fun then," I say, grinning.

The door closes with a soft bump and he waves and turns away. Now that Adrian's otherwise engaged, Kean and Trouble are already at work, and Liss and Henry are tied up with school, I literally have nothing to do, and no one to do it with. Actually it's weird, I haven't really had free time since we got here. No privacy in the shower, no privacy at night, no moment of peace at meals. Every other second is spent entertaining Liss and Henry, or trying to communicate with Trouble, or having those moments with Kean.

I haven't had a moment to myself, a safe moment, in so long. I step into my room and stop. My jaw drops open as the door clunks closed behind me. It doesn't look like I'm going to get my alone time today.

"Who are you?" I say. It seems the only sensible thing to say, because sitting on the top spare bunk is a man with thick dark hair, olive tanned skin and a rough stubbled chin. He looks across at me as if I've just broken into his home. We kind of stare at each other wide eyed and mildly horrified. He's wearing the same uniform as me but I can't recall ever seeing him before.

"I take it you live here, too?" he says.

I nod.

"I'm Jacob." He holds out his hand. I glance down at my damaged fingers but reach my hand up anyway. He's remarkably gentle.

"This is the free bunk?" he says.

"Yeah."

"Good. I just... kind of guessed. It's all new."

I sit on the edge of Henry's bed. "You're the man from quarantine..." I push my hair behind my ears. "Um, three six two, right?"

Jacob narrows his eyes. I become acutely aware that he's in his very late twenties, way taller and stronger than me, and could probably take me down in seconds.

"How did you know?"

"I... uh... saw you in decontamination."

"Decontamination is off limits to civilians," he says, his voice husky with recrimination.

Now it's my turn to be suspicious. "How did you know? I thought this was all new for you."

Jacob tips his head to one side and considers me with his dark eyes. Suddenly he jumps down off the top bunk and lands nimbly on the ground. The thud echoes in the tiny space. Jacob sits on Liss' bed. "I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours."

I blink back at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He sucks air in between his two front teeth and presses his lips closed again. "How long have you been in here?"

"About four days. Four conscious days."

Jacob whistles. "A newbie." He nods slowly, watching me. "I get it now."

"So, you're not new then?"

"I am, here in... what do they call this one?"

"Arcadium."

"Arcadium. Has a nice ring to it. There are more, in different suburbs. I came from one in Brighton."

"Why did you leave?"

A crooked smile passes over his lips. "I didn't have a choice. It was overrun with infected and they hit the kill switch."

"What do you mean, kill switch?"

"The self destruct mechanism for any... accidents. They have one here too, you know." He laughs like it's all so funny. The sound haunts the air around me.

"I didn't know that."

"Little girl, I assume there's not much you do know about this place. Who else are we rooming with?"

"Uh... my sister, Liss. That's her bunk you're on. Kean and Henry — he's in a wheelchair. And Trouble."

"We're rooming with... Trouble?" His eyes sparkle with amusement.

"Yeah, it's a nickname, he only knows one word of English."

"It's a good word to know."

"Yeah."

"Have you been on the outside this whole time?"

I shrug. "Yeah."

"That's pretty tough."

"We're a handy group."

Jacob drops his chin and raises his eyebrows. "You mean to tell me that you were on the outside with a kid in a wheel chair and a guy that speaks zero English?"

"Why is that so hard for everyone to believe?"

Jacob laughs and waves his hand. "Well, I just can't wait to meet the rest of the family." He runs a hand over his stubble. "I don't know why you came here though."

"Because it's safe," I say.

Jacob laughs again but it's lacking all humour. "Little girl, do you have any idea what they do here?"

"They're finding a cure."

"That they are. It's true."

I sit back further on the bed. "What do you mean? What else do they do?"

"It takes a secret to unlock a secret."

"But I don't know any."

He sighs. "Well I'll give you a free one, since you seem like a good tough kid. If you ever see blue flashing lights and maybe hear a siren, you have thirty minutes to get out of this place. Red means ten minutes. Then..." He makes an explosion noise, then taps his temple. "Flashing lights remember?" He chuckles to himself and stands. "I've got things to do. I'll see you later."

"Yeah," I say, watching him leave. "See you later."

When I'm alone again I feel this creeping sense of dread. What the hell was he talking about? And if he's right... we're sitting on a time bomb. The urge to run straight to Kean overwhelms me. I need to tell him we're rooming with a death prophet, tell him what he said about Arcadium. I need to find him right now and tell him what my gut is screaming.

We have to leave.

I burst into the corridor and race to the workers meeting point, but when I get there it's completely deserted. I double back to the mess hall and check the gym and library, but I can't find the clean up crew anywhere. I sweep back past my room and Adrian steps out into my path, stopping me like a barricade. "Hey," I say, out of breath, trying to play it cool.

He crosses his arms. "Where you running to?"

"I'm just trying to find the cleaning crew. Do you know where they are?"

There's something defensive about the way he's standing, blocking my path with his body.

"Adrian, are you ok?"

He stares at me for a moment. "Hope told me you were leaving."

"What?"

"She said you were trying to leave." He runs his tongue across his teeth. "Are you trying to leave me?"

"No!" I don't have to try to look surprised because I am. "I have no idea why she'd say that. And where would I go? It's safe here, it makes sense." I stare back at him to prove I'm not going anywhere.

"So, you're not?"

"No. Don't be stupid. I don't want to die." Which is exactly why I want to leave this place. At least on the outside we were free.

Adrian looks away and laughs suddenly. "It is stupid, isn't it? You can't just leave Arcadium. How would you get out?"

Ok, that's a creepy statement but I put on my most normal smile. I draw the line at laughing along with him though. If this outbreak has changed me in any way, I'm now a fantastic actor slash professional liar.

"So, you want to get some lunch?" he asks. "Maybe watch the security cameras?"

"I thought you just had brunch?"

"Yeah, but who cares. You haven't had anything."

Somehow I know I'm not going to be able to shake him, but maybe I can buy myself a little time. "Ok. You go get lunch and I'll try and find the clean up crew. Meet you there?"

Adrian drops his shoulders and uncrosses his arms. "I am so good to you," he says. "Come here."

He walks me to the end of the corridor and pushes open a door. It looks just like all the other sleeping quarter doors except it has no door handle. "Down there I bet. Hold your nose."

"Thanks." I peer down the dimly lit stairwell. "Oh, hey."

Adrian looks over his shoulder.

"Can you see if they've got any cake... please?"

He throws back his head and laughs. "The things I do for you."

Yeah like showing me around, and smuggling me food I should be able to eat anyway. Thanks a lot. I watch him walk away and realise how much I dislike him. He makes me feel cynical and dark. He makes me suspicious, makes me lie and pretend. Nothing around Adrian is real.

I have to find Kean. I hurry down the stairwell, listening to the tiny echoes my footsteps make in the cramped space. There's a slow dripping sound too, somewhere off in the distance, and the air feels heavy and damp. Weak yellow lights are spread at intervals across the ceiling but not all of them work.

At the bottom is a corridor stretching in two directions. To the right, it snakes away round a corner and to the left is a coded door with a yellow and black biohazard sticker. I stare at it for a second and walk over, pressing my ear against the door. I can't hear anything. The door feels strangely cold, like a refrigerator. The light above me flickers.

I glance over my shoulder but I can't walk away, my curiosity won't let me. A peek won't hurt. I punch in the code with my thumb and when the code-box makes a tiny beep I push the door open.

The smell hits me first. I linger at the threshold, inhaling the salty sourness. I have to press my thumb under my nose to stop myself from dry retching.

The basement room is a cavernous space, ominously quiet and full of shadows. In huge square trolleys, twice the height of me, hang bright yellow bags. They stretch as far as I can see, each one carrying the biohazard sign. The yellow plastic is thick, impossible to see through, but I can tell by the way it juts out in places that they hold something: maybe laundry or medical stuff. It could be anything.

I step in and chock the door open with a wayward broom. My creeping unease makes me feel like I need that open exit. I keep glancing over my shoulder as I move down the row of trolleys.

With my spare hand, I press my good fingers onto one of the hidden lumps. It's soft and moves around my intrusion, so I'm eighty percent sure I'm in the laundry room. But laundries shouldn't be this quiet, should they? Where is the thrumming, whirring machinery... unless everything gets hand washed here? Oh I bet that was going to be my job too. But if Arcadium can support three hundred people and a whole laboratory, surely they could spare some power for washing machines.

I spin around but it all looks the same, just rows and rows of huge trolleys in the dim grimy space. Overhead, metal walkway hangs and I follow it along the roof, back towards the door. It weaves to the left and I duck between the trolleys, still sealing my nostrils with my thumb. Against the wall I see a metal staircase ascending to the walkway. If I get up there I can see the whole room in one glance: see what's in the trolleys and make sure the cleaning crew isn't down the other end.

I slide my hand over the railing and move quietly. Each step lifts me up higher until finally I'm hovering over one of the trolleys.

I peer over the railing, leaning out as far as I can, staring at the dark mass within the plastic, but I can't make it out, it's too shadowy. I glance around, looking for a light source. At the base of the stairs is a kind of switch box and I wonder if I'd be able to turn on more lights.

I skip down the stairs and swing open the door to the box, peering at all the switches. I don't even need to try them. At the base of the box is a small silver torch.

I pull it out, turn it on and this time I jog up the stairs; the narrow torch beam bounces off the metal.

It'll only take Adrian about ten minutes to scrounge us up some lunch so I have to be quick. I don't want him to come looking for me.

I lean over the railing and hold out the torch. The instant the beam hits the contents of the trolley I reel back, sucking in a huge gasp of air. Decaying arms and legs cross over each other, faces stuck in torturous hungry snarls stare up from the dark. Twenty sets of infected eyes glint in the torchlight, like maybe they've still got life left in them. But everything is still in the trolley. Still and dead.

The room is full of trolleys. Full of dead infected. Hundreds of them. Right below our feet. The whole time.

I step back so fast I forget I'm on steps and when my foot moves there's nothing left to support it. I tumble over and over, rolling sideways down the stairs. Clattering fills the air and I land on my side, sliding onto the concrete ground. I don't feel hurt but then I'm probably too much in shock to feel anything but horror.

In seconds I'm on my feet and sprinting, weaving through the trolleys full of infected people.

I'm still clutching the torch as I kick the broom away and speed out into the corridor. The door slams shut behind me and I don't stop. I have to find Kean and Trouble. Now.

### Chapter 20

THE AIR CHANGES and becomes thick and sharp like rotting food. I follow the hallway straight down and suddenly burst into an open room. I slide to a stop and heads look up at me from piles of rubbish. A few seconds pass and they return to their work, sorting through mounds of mess with yellow-gloved hands.

Someone stands up straight and locks eyes with me. It's Trouble. Confusion slides across his expression as I jog over. I switch off the torch so I don't call even more attention to myself.

When I reach him I almost knock him over. Trouble pulls off his gloves and holds my shoulders. I stare at him, feeling my arms trembling, and can't think of how to explain it, not even to someone who understands English. I mean, I don't even really understand what I've just seen.

He drops his chin and in a low voice whispers, "Trouble?"

I nod.

"Hey, Trouble, over here."

We both look up. Kean beckons us with a quick wave of his hand. He's standing behind a huge metal dumpster, shielded from the rest of the workers.

Trouble keeps his hand on one of my shoulders as we head over to Kean. He drops his hand as soon as we're behind the dumpster, and it's like passing a baton: Kean grabs my face with both hands. His touch has this weird calming effect on me.

"What's going on?" he says, glancing between us.

My mouth hangs open for a second. "We have to get out of here. Now."

"Why?" His eyes bore into me. "What happened?"

"I just found a room full of dead infected. Hundreds of them."

Kean blinks and stares at me as he processes.

"And we have a new room mate, Jacob. He says he came from another place just like Arcadium but it blew up. He said there's a self-destruct mechanism in case things get out of hand. Kean, we're sitting on a freaking time bomb."

Kean drops his hands away and steadies himself against the dumpster.

"I don't know what it is but I get the feeling Jacob knows more than he's telling."

"So..." Kean glances at Trouble. Trouble is just watching intently, eyes flicking between us. "What do we do?"

I take a deep breath. "I don't know but I'm supposed to meet Adrian in a few minutes. He wants to hang out in the surveillance room and I didn't want to look suspicious."

Kean's eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything for a long while. We just stand in the shadow of the dumpster, huddled together.

"Why don't we have a family meeting tonight and decide. If we're leaving, we'll need a plan. In the meantime we just carry on, pretend nothing's wrong." He nods for Trouble and looks back at me. "Try not to look like anything's up."

"Tonight then." I nod.

"We should get back to work before the slave driver finds us slacking off." Kean pauses, one hand still cradling my face. "Hey, it'll all be fine."

I nod again. "Yep."

Kean peers around the dumpster. "Go," he says.

I hurry out the way I came, still full of adrenaline, and when I reach the bottom of the stairs I pause and glance at the biohazard door. I tuck the small torch into the waistband of my trousers and head on up.

Adrian is waiting at the surveillance room door with two brown paper bags. He looks me up and down and then frowns. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" I ask looking down and I see what he's talking about. When I fell down the stairs I've managed to slide through gross blue greasy stuff and it's all down the side of my uniform. I feel nauseous, and try not to think about what it really is. "Oh, that... I slipped on some rubbish juice."

Adrian crinkles his nose and moves toward the door. "Why don't you go change your uniform and I'll get lunch ready."

"Uh... good idea." I turn and head to the bathroom, grateful for the moment alone. Act normal, I keep telling myself, but there's so much going on in my head. Images of the dead bodies tossed together like rubbish, like they weren't once people. Jacobs's mouth forming ominous words. Flashing blue lights.

I find another uniform and scoop it up in my arms. I sit on one of the benches and stop for a moment. Liss and Henry are here somewhere, sealed behind glass and unaware of everything, and Kean and Trouble are stuck in the basement wading through revolting rubbish. No wonder they look tired and demoralised all the time. It's horrible down there. A dungeon.

I put my palms against my forehead and close my eyes. How could this be so wrong? How could I be so blind? Arcadium was supposed to be our destination, our saviour, our safety. And maybe it is on the surface, but underneath it's just as volatile as outside. Is there nowhere safe anymore? Is there no one we can trust?

I pull in a long slow breath and let it out. And that's when I realise we can only trust ourselves. Just the five of us. Because not one of them slowed me down, not one of them tried to kill me, not one of them tried to talk me out of this crazy idea. They trusted me and I trusted them and that last night at the hotel was the best I've had in forever.

I try to think of something else... like lunch, to calm me down. I dump the dirty uniform in the laundry bin and leave.

I knock lightly on the door and it pops open straight away. Adrian has lunch spread out on the desk and goes back to the computer, searching for something.

"Turns out scientists do like cake." He holds up a slice of banana bread, staring at the screen still. When I sit down he looks over and grins. "That smells better."

"Ha, ha," I say, snatching the banana bread slice from his hand. "What are we watching?"

"The new guy's entrance. It's pretty cool." Adrian stops typing and points at the monitor. He sits back in the chair and bites into a wrap of some kind. "You met him yet?" he says, with his mouthful.

"Yeah, he scared the crap out of me this morning."

Adrian laughs and takes another greedy bite. It kind of reminds me of an infected person chowing down on a meal. Adrian sits up suddenly. "Here, here. Watch this."

I stare at the black and white monitor. Nothing happens straight away but soon a small figure walks into view. Infected people hover aimlessly but as soon as they see his movement they all jerk into action. Jacob keeps walking, even as they run at him. He reaches with steady hands into his jacket, pulls out a gun from each side and starts shooting.

Infected heads explode and the bodies drop to the floor. There's no sound but I flinch with every shot. Jacob keeps on going like he's invincible, walking straight toward the elevator. Once inside he turns around and I swear it looks like an action movie. Jacob raises his gun and shoots three times, stopping the onslaught with pinpoint precision. And then he calmly reaches for the elevator button. As the doors shut he puts down the guns, sits on the floor and moments later he passes out.

"How cool is that? Look he even puts the safeties back on before he sits down. What a champion." Adrian looks over. "Not bad, huh?"

"Just because he looks a little bit more organised than we did..."

"A bit!" Adrian throws his head back and laughs. "What's he like?"

I shrug and bite into my cake. "I don't know. He seems alright."

"Bad ass?"

"Yeah, totally." I finish chewing. "So there's no one in decontamination now?"

Adrian scans the monitors and points one out. "Nope. All clear."

"And have they found a cure yet?"

Adrian takes another bite and shakes his head.

"What about that thing they were talking about when I was stuck in the cupboard?"

Adrian gives me his best sour look. "You mean when you almost got me in deep trouble?"

I just smile and finish off the banana bread.

"They're still working on it. Normally it takes a day and they find it's nothing but the labs have been buzzing for a while."

"Must be good then."

"Eh, don't know, don't care." He chews noisily and finishes the last of his wrap. "Check it out," he says, pushing something toward me. "When was the last time you had yoghurt?"

I pick up the tub but I'm still thinking about his lack of desperation for a cure. "Don't you want to live outside again? In the real world?"

Adrian wipes his mouth and sits back. "This is the real world. Besides, I'm going to be the ruler of this place one day. Out there I'm nothing but in here... here I'm king."

I look away. I pretend to watch a monitor out to the side but really I'm just hiding the panic I feel. Sometimes it's easy to think Adrian's just a lonely kid and feel sympathy for him, but then he has these moments where he really does sound crazy, and I wonder if his dad's like that too. At least Doctor Harding is looking for a cure. Adrian's just looking for his tiny kingdom to rule.

"Spoon?" Adrian says. I don't answer him straight away and he taps me on the head with it. When I reach for the spoon he lets me have it but grabs my hand instead. I freeze and panic flutters within me like an aviary of alarmed birds. Adrian's skin prickles against mine, his fingers tighten in an acid grip. All I can think of is Kean's soft lips against my forehead.

I yank my hand back, put my foot against his wheely chair and shove him away.

Adrian's eyes narrow but his lips still carry a smile. "Careful," he says, wheeling himself slowly toward me. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

I drop the tub of yoghurt and it clatters to the floor. "I'll feed myself then." I shoot to my feet and rush out the door. I don't even care what he thinks.

I never turn to see if Adrian is following, I just run straight back to my sleeping quarters and slam the door.

I pace the length of our small grey room a few times before slipping into my bunk and pressing myself right up against the wall. If I close my eyes strange images dance behind my lids: Adrian and his tight grip, discarded bodies, creepy sour smelling basements.

So I keep my eyes open, staring at the bunk above me. Hours pass like this. I'm just waiting for the others to return, drawing out a plan in my head. Once together we can head out to the rooftop, down the fire escape and climb the back fence into the houses. From there we can run, find a car. We'll have to start again, collecting food and water, but it's possible and doable and the only choice we have. I won't allow Liss to die in a concrete coffin surrounded by crazy people.

At three o'clock the door opens and Trouble walks in. He doesn't see me though, and just sits on Henry's bed, looks up at the clock and sighs. It's weird because he's not supposed to finish work for another three hours.

I don't know why I don't just come out straight away. I feel like I've intruded on a private moment of Trouble's solitude and I don't just want to jump out and scare him.

His dark eyes seem hollow, he looks pale too, but since we haven't seen sun in two weeks I'm not surprised. Trouble stretches out his fingers and looks at his hands.

The door flings opens. I can't tell who it is, just a set of white shoes and white trousered ankles, but Trouble's eyes go wild and confused.

In seconds there's another set of white shoes and then Trouble's on the floor, face down, being dragged out by his legs. He doesn't even have a chance to make a sound, but he does grab the bunk ladders on either side. We lock eyes and I don't need a translator to know he's scared.

I can measure the time that passes in three hammering heartbeats. A foot kicks out at Trouble's hand, breaking his grip, and I catch a glimpse of white lab coat. Trouble grapples with the concrete floor but they drag him straight out. His eyes never leave mine until the door slams shut.

The scuffling sound fades and I lie blinking, trying to work out if I'd imagined it or not. But I can still see his fingerprints frosted onto the metal ladder bar.

I jerk into action, rolling out and bursting into the hallway. I follow the sound to the right and it takes me straight to the corridor leading to the laboratories. I run down it and as I reach the glass door, Trouble is just disappearing around the corner. I stop, wondering if I should dare to punch in the code and follow. But suddenly scientists spill out of an office and follow Trouble's trail, their backs toward me.

What can I do? What power do I have against thirty heavy-handed scientists?

At this moment I just want to grab Liss and run. A few weeks ago I would have. But I can't leave Kean and Henry wondering. And I won't leave Trouble to the mercy of the scientists... whatever it is they want from him.

I turn back and run down the hall. When I reach the door to the basement I don't even hesitate. I take the stairs at a run and hope Kean is still sorting rubbish where I left him.

The smell tells me I'm close and I slow, definitely not needing any more attention. I peer around the corner and my heart jumps when I see him, even though he's nearly elbow deep in brown muck.

There are all sorts of rubbish moving noises, clinking and squelching and all sorts, so when I throw a loose tin can at him he starts and turns, but no one else notices.

The second he sees me he strips off his gloves, casting a glance over his shoulder, and jogs over. I turn and stride back into the hallway and he follows me.

"What is it?" he says.

Finally I stop. He stares at me, shaking his head.

I can barely make the words. "They took Trouble."

"Who? Who took him?"

"The scientists. We were in our room and they didn't see me in my bunk and they got him on the ground and dragged him away. I didn't know what to do."

Kean is blinking rapidly, his mind whirring into action.

"I couldn't follow him. They were everywhere."

Kean nods. "You did the right thing. Dammit. What can we do? Can we get in there?"

"What could they want with him? Is it punishment for leaving work early?"

Kean's face is pulled taut with a grimace. "The boss pulled me aside for a word and when I got back Trouble was gone. They told me he'd cut his hand and they were looking after him." He looks away. "I believed them."

"It doesn't matter," I say, and start walking to the stairs. "We'll go back to the room, wait for Liss and Henry. We'll get Trouble back and then get the hell out of this place."

Kean follows. "I feel helpless."

"I'm the one that got us here in the first place. This is my fault."

He touches my arm. "The outbreak isn't your fault. This isn't your fault."

We're almost at the stairs when the door above opens. Heavy footsteps begin toward us, as does a whistled tune.

Kean's eyes go wide. "Slave driver." He grabs my wrist and moves to run back the way we came but there's no time. I pull him to the biohazard door. This is the last place I want to be heading back into but there's no choice. We need cover now.

I punch in the code and hope the whistling covers the tiny beep. The footsteps are so close, as we push through the door the whistling stops. I hold my breath. Kean holds the door open a crack because it's too late to let it close and risk making a noise. He watches through the gap.

I keep my eyes on him, for a few harrowing seconds he's dead still, and then he breathes a thin sigh of relief. Kean looks over his shoulder and follows my gaze. "Close," he whispers.

"We're not free yet," I say, eyeing the bags full of infected bodies.

"Are they...?"

"Yep."

Kean's mouth hangs open. "We have to get out of here."

### Chapter 21

I LEAN A hand against the bunk ladder and Kean stands with his back to the door. I search my mind for a plan but all we've got is going in blind. And that's too risky. But how do I just let Trouble go? I don't know what's better, going out in a blaze of glory for love, or slinking out the back to live a long and haunted life. I couldn't leave him back in the Burnley tunnel, and I know I can't do it now. But we have to be smart about this.

"If we go now we could get him back," Kean says.

"If we get caught Liss and Henry won't have a clue what's going on." I look over at him. "We have to wait. We have to trust that Trouble can keep himself alive long enough for us to get to him. We have to work together, Kean. We can't split up now."

"Ok, so... what? If we don't go soon..."

"Go where?" A husky voice sails down from the top bunk and Jacob sits up.

Me and Kean stare up at him in silence.

And then it comes to me. "You know, don't you?" I say to Jacob. "They took Trouble, dragged him away. What are they going to do to him?"

"Why did they take him?" Jacob asks.

I climb the ladder and hang off it so I'm face to face with him. "You said... you said I didn't know what was going on here. But there are hundreds of dead infected in the basement and now scientists are kidnapping people." I grit my teeth. "Tell me what's going on."

Jacob is frustratingly slow to reply. "It's not good."

"Why won't you help us?"

Jacob shrugs and rubs his dark stubble. "You haven't asked."

I jump down to the floor.

"Look." Jacob swings his legs around so they're dangling over the side of his bunk. "Calm down. There's nothing you can do right now. This facility is locked down. Every damned door has a code on it. How do you think you're going to get your friend back, huh?"

I try to keep my expression steady but I can't stop myself from glancing at Kean. Jacob is too good, he reads me like I've just said it aloud.

"You've got the code, don't you?" Jacob looks between me and Kean, and begins to laugh.

"I don't have the code."

"Then I don't help."

"Fine," I say. "We don't need your help."

A clink comes from the door and we all look over. The handle starts to move. Kean steps forward just before it swings open.

Liss appears and takes in the scene with wide eyes. She's not stupid; she's seen enough fear to know when it's plastered over my face. Liss looks at Jacob but says nothing, and then comes straight to my side. Kean pokes his head out the door and closes it. "Where's Henry?"

"Isn't he with you guys?" Liss says. "The lady doctor came after lunch and took him. She said he needed a check up."

Me and Kean just look at each other. The silence is painful, heavy like a rainstorm of stones.

"Give him the code," Kean says in a low voice. It doesn't even sound like him.

I stare back.

"They have Henry!" Kean's words burst out. "Give him the damned code!"

I glance back at Jacob. He's watching with calm curiosity.

"What's going on?" Liss tugs at my arm.

"We're leaving tonight, once we get Henry and Trouble back."

Liss bites her lip and stares at me with her big round eyes. And I can't believe what I'm about to drag her into.

"How do we get past all the scientists?" Kean demands. He aims it at Jacob but I'm the one that answers.

I sit on Henry's bunk. "We'll have to wait until midnight, when they're asleep."

Jacob clears his throat. "You probably don't want to wait that long, if you want to get your friends back alive."

"Why?" Kean says.

Jacob draws a short breath and looks between Me and Kean. "Once they're taken, the experiments start within hours."

Kean covers his eyes with his palm, blocking out everything, and then slides it down so it covers his mouth. I don't know what to do for him; it'd be like me losing Liss and that would be the end for me. There aren't words for that kind of thing.

"What kind of experiment?" I ask.

Jacob tips his head to one side. "They're looking for a cure. So they're going to need a steady supply of freshly infected. And they aren't going outside to collect them, when people are sitting here in their little rooms, just waiting to be picked."

"All those infected people downstairs..." I look at Kean. "Came from _inside_ Arcadium."

"A fresh pool of ignorant subjects to pick from." Jacob leans forward, hands on his knees. "Any gender, any age they want, it's all here. They control everything."

Kean drops his hand. "This isn't a sanctuary, it's a trap."

But something doesn't add up for me. I frown at Jacob. "If you know this, why did you come here?"

"You know, I can sit here all day and answer your questions, but aren't you trying to save your friends?"

"He's right," Kean says. "We have to go now. Maybe if we had some kind of distraction we could slip through unnoticed."

Jacob slides off the top bunk and lands on his feet with a resounding thud. He looks straight at me. "You give me the code and I'll make sure you get your distraction."

I wait a few seconds, just in case a brighter plan comes to mind. I don't know why Jacob wants the code so badly but I can't see another way.

I want Henry and Trouble back. There's no choice. Finally I meet Jacob's eyes. "Better be a big distraction."

Jacob's mouth morphs into a wide grin. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Even with a distraction, how are we supposed to find them?" Kean says. "We'll be running around blind."

"Not exactly," I say. "I've seen the labs once before, and if we can get to the surveillance room we'll be able to find out exactly where they're being held."

Jacob is still grinning. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

### Chapter 22

KEAN GLANCES IN both directions before we file out of the room. Everything's gone decidedly stealth, just like being on the outside again. We half walk, half run with our arms linked together, leaving Jacob to trail along behind.

"Won't Adrian still be in there?" Kean says as we round the corner.

"I don't know." He's right. Adrian could be anywhere, and he's not going to approve of us leaving. "I'll check."

I knock twice on the surveillance room door and listen to the sound echo in the empty space. "You want the code?" I say, raising my thumb to the code box. "Gather round."

I punch in the digits and hear the tiny beep.

"Hey presto," Jacob says, glancing over his shoulder. He pushes open the door and we follow him in.

"Whoa." Kean looks around. "What happened here?"

I sidestep out of a puddle of juice that's leaking from a cracked glass bottle, abandoned on the floor. The rest of the lunch Adrian collected is strewn about the place, splattered against the walls, crumbling across the desk surrounded by shreds of brown paper. Yogurt drips down the right bank of monitors.

Jacob steps on some broken bottle glass and kicks it away with his foot.

"Careful," I whisper to Liss, as I press her back against the back wall.

"Seriously, who is this guy?" Kean grabs some paper and clears the right monitors of dripping dairy product.

"He doesn't want us to leave," I say.

Kean drops the paper and studies the monitors. "He doesn't want you to leave. He doesn't even know we exist."

I search the monitors for signs of Henry and Trouble. The decontamination unit is clear, as is the first row of labs. There are scientists everywhere though, typing at computers, hovering at benches, reading paperwork, crossing the halls.

My eyes narrow and I peer closer. "There, what's that?"

Kean leans forward and his chest expands suddenly. "It's Henry. It's them. Where are they?"

Henry's sitting on the floor and Trouble is pacing back and forth in the small glass cage. The room has four more cages, each holding another two people.

"These are all labs." I point at the row of monitors. "It's like one long line of rooms and you need the code to get through each door."

"So, the further along they are, the longer it takes to get them," Kean says.

A voice stabs from behind. "What are you doing?"

We all spin and my heart seizes. Adrian hovers in the doorframe, staring at us, confused. His eyes land on me and his expression changes. His eyes darken, his lips peel back, his whole stance moves to attack mode.

I just stand there. My mouth opens to make up an excuse, but Jacob gets there first. He takes one look at Adrian, sees the name on his uniform, and head-butts him.

Adrian stumbles away but Jacob catches a handful of his jacket and drags him back into the room. The door shuts and Jacob has Adrian pressed up against the concrete wall.

"Get something to tie him up!" Jacob yells.

We start going through the draws, pulling out useless paper and stationary.

"Packing tape?" Kean holds up a roll.

"Bring it here." Jacob wrestles Adrian's hands into place, and keeps his mouth pressed into the wall. Adrian squirms against his grip and the concrete muffles his cries. I watch, only for a moment, then turn back to the monitors. I know what the first lab looks like, and that's in the top corner, completely empty. If I count along, Henry and Trouble appear on monitor twelve, so they'll be twelve rooms deep in the conga line of laboratories.

Suddenly there's movement on their monitor. Two broad-shouldered scientists head towards the first of the glass cages, the ones at the opposite end to Henry and Trouble. I watch, eyes glued to the black and white figures, gripping the edge of the desk. The two scientists enter the cage and pin down the occupants, one at a time. A third scientist enters and holds up a strange gun looking thing. In seconds she presses it into the leg of each occupant, and then all three retreat out of the cage, sealing the glass door again.

The two occupants react differently. One scuttles back into the far corner, inspecting her leg while the other jumps up and goes nuts, banging against the glass and screaming.

The scientists remove their gloves, wash their hands in a long metal trough and return to the benches. The two burly looking ones pick up clipboards and return to the glass box, writing notes. One looks at his wristwatch. The small scientist replaces her thick gloves and fiddles with the injection gun. She reloads it carefully with a small syringe sized cartridge and places it down. She's talking to the other scientists now. They converse for a moment, then drop their clipboards on a side desk and move along to the next cage.

"Why did they take them?" Liss asks, tugging on my arm.

"One can't talk back, and one can't walk away," Jacob says, pushing Adrian to the computer chair. He holds him in place as Kean winds the tape around his torso, securing him.

I look back to the monitor and things have changed again. The scientists are holding down the occupants of the second box and injecting them.

"Um... guys?"

Kean looks up.

"They're injecting the others with something." I meet his eyes. "Only three more boxes until they reach Henry and Trouble."

"Go now," Jacob says. "I need ten minutes. If you can get yourselves in, I'll have your distraction ready so you can get out." Jacob studies the monitors and when we don't move he glances back at me. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

Liss is still holding my arm, Kean doesn't need any more persuading. We dash out and head toward the labs.

"What, are we just going to run in?" Kean says. "We'll get caught."

I don't say anything because I'm thinking, mapping out the area in my mind. Through the glass door is a long corridor. On the right is the empty decontamination unit. Further up on the left are the offices. Then it's the T-intersection, the x-ray room to the left, the labs on the right. It's a straight run but one that puts us completely on display. There's no where to hide.

"Florence..."

"I'm thinking," I say. We slow to a jog and stop at the glass coded door. I look at Kean. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that almost kills me on the spot.

"I think we have to just go for it," I say, "and hope luck is on our side."

Kean nods once and I punch in the code. There really is no other way.

We slip through the door and move in single file, keeping Liss between us. I lead the way since I'm the only one that has actually been past the decontamination unit. For the moment it's silent and scientist free. We pass by the empty decontamination unit and creep towards the offices.

We've hardly gone anywhere before our luck runs out. The nearest office door opens and voices pour out into the corridor. I can even see the hand on the door handle — that's how close we are. I scramble backwards, dragging the others with me.

We don't have time to do anything, so I punch the code into the decontamination unit door with shaky fingers. Kean's head flicks between the office and us. The scientist is backing out of the doorway now, still in conversation. The situation is so tense I feel like I can't breath.

As soon as the code box beeps we burst into the room. Liss actually goes sprawling onto her stomach as I push her in. I drop down and Kean leaps back to the door to stop it from slamming.

Liss and I crawl to the wall so we can't be seen if the scientist comes our way.

"All clear," Kean says under his breath. "She went the other way."

"Great. That's where we need to go."

Kean puts his index finger to his lips suddenly, still peering out into the corridor. Liss and I freeze.

After a few seconds he turns back. "There's a lot of movement at the end of the corridor."

I take a deep breath. "What are we going to do? How do we get past?"

Kean stares at me for a moment, then his gaze lifts and locks onto something behind me. A glimmer of a smile appears on his face. "I have an idea."

I turn around and see the row of white lab coats hanging on a small metal bar. Jackpot.

"But surely they'll realise we don't belong. Plus Liss is to young to be a scientist."

Kean chews on the side of his lip, thinking. His knee bobs up and down with urgency."

The idea comes to me suddenly. "Unless we use Liss."

"What?" Liss looks between us.

I nod to myself. "Liss, get that clipboard. I'll get the coats."

Liss keeps low, scampering over to the desk. She slides the clipboard towards herself, while I pull down two of the closest lab coats. I flick mine on and take the door watch as Kean slides into his. Liss passes me the clipboard.

"Right, this is how it's going to go. Kean you're carrying Liss⎯"

"Why?" Liss looks alarmed.

"And if we run into anyone, Liss, you have to make it look like you're struggling. Make it look like we're kidnapping you."

Kean blinks. "We're just going to walk straight into the labs and pretend she's another test subject." He almost grins. "That's brilliant."

"You be the muscle, and Liss, it doesn't matter if people see you but you need to cover Kean's face," I say, nodding. "Ok? I'll duck behind my clipboard and lets just hope it's enough."

Liss bites her lip and nods, reaching for Kean without a moment of hesitation. I glance through the gap in the door. The hallway is clear so I stand up and swing the door fully open.

Kean hoists Liss into his arms and she sits quietly for the moment. I step out and they follow. I look down, burying my head in the clipboard as we pass the offices. A door opens to the left and dread flows through me.

Liss begins to struggle against Kean and I hope to hell it's convincing. I march onwards, pretending not to care. The man overtakes us on the left and just as he does, I flick my head over my right shoulder, to check on Kean's progress and to hide my face. The scientist rushes onward as if we're invisible.

I let out a tiny breath of relief, but it's not over yet. We're about to hit the intersection. Here we go.

I swing to the right and it's a gauntlet of scientists, running back and forth. Liss kicks the wall behind me and practically rolls up onto Kean's face. I drop my head even further like I have the cure right here on this very interesting page. We collect a few wayward glances, but no one tries to stop us. I think most people actually look away, so they don't have to think about what's going to happen to the little girl.

My heart is thumping as I try to march along like I've every right to be here. I can hear the tiny scuffling sounds of the other two, and every now and then Liss says something like, "Get off!"

This hallway is so much longer than I remembered. It's so busy too. I feel like we've been dumped into a shark enclosure and they're all circling, waiting for the perfect moment to devour us. There's no escape if the scientists get us now, just narrow concrete halls that are easy to block.

I've been reading the same line over and over on this page _. Decontamination protocol form Arcadium 1:419 Subject Suitability Assessment_. Usually when you read something over and over again it loses all meaning, but this time for me, it's the other way around. At first it means nothing, just a whole string of overblown words, but the suitability assessment part makes me realise we've been lab rats from the very beginning, just waiting to be plucked from our cages.

A white uniform appears in front of me. I snap my head up at the last moment, just managing to avoid a collision, and step around the startled man. I huff and make unimpressed noises and march on, trying to pretend I'm on important business. He stops for a moment and I feel him watching us. I straighten my back and walk faster. Behind me Liss gives a low growl.

At last we reach the mirrored walls of the labs. I can't see into the admin room so I just punch in the code and take a chance, aware that the man is still watching. We enter the room and thankfully it's empty. The door seals behind us and we walk toward the next room but I see two scientists sitting with their backs to us.

"Crap." I drop to the floor and Liss and Kean copy. "There are people in the next room. We'll never get past." I glance around the room for something, anything we can use. It's not until I look up that I remember. "The air-conditioning system."

Kean follows my gaze. "Watch the door," he says. "I'll go first."

I kneel beside the door, peering up to make sure no one's watching. It's not like anyone can see in from the corridor, but if the scientists in the next lab turn around and spot us it's all over. "Go, quick."

Kean jumps up on the desk, almost sliding sideways on some loose paper. He gathers his balance and taps the air-conditioning grate back into the duct. With both hands he grips the sides and pulls himself up. First his head and shoulders go, then his torso and finally his swinging feet disappear.

"Liss, get ready," I say, ducking as a scientist passes by outside. I pop my head up again, knowing that they can't see me, it's just habit I guess. "Ok, go. Up on the desk."

Liss climbs on and Kean leans out of the duct, both hands extended. Liss reaches up and after a few moments of wriggling she disappears too. I do a quick check of the hallway and the second lab, and I'm just about to step up when the code box beeps. I whip my head back. Two scientists are standing in the corridor, seconds from entering. I look up and see Kean's horrified expression.

There's no time. I clutch my clipboard and I wave Kean on.

This is the worst possible scenario. We're split up and time is running out. I gulp back my horror and pretend to be sorting through some papers. I pick one, add it to the clipboard and head straight to the next lab door. I punch in the code and in the second of pause before the door unlocks, I feel like I'm going to explode.

The scientists are in the room now, footsteps coming toward me.

My code-box beeps and I push through into the next room. Urgent strides carry me to the next door in a flash.

There are four scientists in here, three at desks and one working with some kind of liquid in a beaker, right next to the rat cages. I think it's a guy, but I can't risk staring so all I've got to go on is my peripheral vision. He glances up, watches me for a few seconds. I punch in the code and he drops his head, returning to his work.

There are four in the next room, all seated at desks. I push on, striding through the gauntlet of locked doors and dormant scientists. I can't believe I've actually made it this far without anyone raising an alarm. I guess they see the coat, the clipboard and the code and don't need to look any further than that.

Scientists occupy the next four labs and I'm starting to wonder what I'm going to do when I get to lab number twelve where Henry and Trouble are being held. I could probably walk straight in, but then what? Keep going? That's not going to help anyone. And I'm no physical match for three scientists. If I stop moving someone might realise I don't belong. I just have to wing it. There's no choice. I keep pushing through the rooms.

Finally, lab number ten is empty, and I stop at a desk and pretend to shuffle papers in case someone is watching. The air-conditioning grate above me looks empty and I wonder if I'm way ahead or way behind the others.

The scientist in lab nine is typing at a computer, totally absorbed, so I take my chance. I stand up on the desk slowly, keeping close to the wall and bump the grate from its seated position.

I have to rip the tape and splints from my hands so I can grip. I reach for the grate and jump, but my weak hands just slide off the metal. This time I wedge my foot in one of the wall shelves and use it to propel myself through the gap. As soon as my arms are through I flatten them and swing my legs for momentum, until I'm completely up. My splinted fingers stab with pain every time I try to curl them, but the thought of Henry and Trouble allows me to tune it out, just enough to keep going.

Ahead it's shadowy, just grey light bleeding in from the other grates in the next labs. The metal is ice cold too; chilled air flows around me.

I twist around and look for the others. They're still far back. I wave to Kean and he acknowledges so I keep going, crawling on my belly as quietly as I can. My breath is the loudest thing, so I work on controlling that as I slide forward. I carefully navigate past the grate for lab eleven and stop at lab twelve.

I peer through into the bright light, trying to orientate myself. I'm hanging above the row of glass boxes. The two big scientists stand in front of the fourth box, taking notes, and the woman is refilling the injection gun. I slide further forward and see Trouble. He's standing at the glass, watching calmly. I'm pretty sure they haven't been injected yet, but it looks like they're next.

A hammering noise comes from the first box and I look over. Inside are two people, showing the signs of infection. Pale skin and abandon for their safety, slamming violently against the glass and roaring some kind of outraged groan. The scientists wander over, just as the occupants of box two go completely insane and start clawing at the glass, drooling and banging their heads together in an effort to get to the scientists.

Something taps me on my foot. Kean's worried green eyes beg for an answer.

"They're alive. But they're next," I whisper. I twist around and cross the grate silently so that Kean can see for himself. He lifts it gently and pushes it towards me. The skinny female scientist says something and the two bigger ones wander back, deep in discussion. Kean senses his moment and slides through the grate hole, dropping quietly onto the top of the glass boxes.

I want to scream and reach for him, drag him back, anything. But I can't. Liss is hovering in his spot now, watching, and Kean moves silently toward Trouble and Henry.

Henry spots Kean first, from his position on the ground. Trouble is still distracted by scientists. Suddenly Trouble turns and follows Henry's pointed finger. The look on Trouble's face when he recognises Kean is the purest look of relief I have ever seen.

Kean moves closer and I see what he's about to do. Each glass prison has a code pad hidden on its top edge, just out of view to anyone on the ground. He taps out the code and to my surprise the door actually slides open, moving so quietly that the scientists don't even notice.

But they will soon. The skinny scientist raises the loaded injection gun and they begin to move. By some miracle they're all looking at one of the burley one's clipboards, totally oblivious.

Everything is happening so quickly. I can't see it ending well. Trouble could probably take on one scientist but then what?

There's no more time to think. The trio reach the box and Trouble explodes out, spear tackling the two big guys at once. They sprawl backwards across the floor, shock freezing their expressions, but they recover quickly. The first man to his feet kicks Trouble in the stomach. Kean launches from his glass box perch and lands on the attacker's back, flattening him with his momentum. Chaos erupts, legs and arms fly everywhere; strangled cries and the muted thumps of landed blows fill the air.

The female scientist hovers over the fight, holding the injection gun out like it has bullets. Suddenly I realise her intention. She's going to infect whoever she can, to stun them.

Oh, crap.

Kean is no match for his scientist and he's pinned quickly. I glance at Liss.

"Stay here," I say, and drop through the grate hole.

The woman seems to move in slow motion as she lowers the gun to Kean's leg. I take two running steps and fling myself off the top of the boxes, aiming straight for her.

She gasps and looks up at the last moment, just before I crash into her side. We slam into the floor and oh my God, blunt pain races the length of me, like how I imagine the infection feels spreading through my blood. When all the tumbling stops I realise she's almost got the gun against my shoulder. I reel back, landing on Kean and the big scientist.

For a second I think the woman might have already injected me, but I glimpse the cartridge and it's still full of the glowing green liquid.

In the scramble, I manage to kick the big guy pinning Kean down. I get him right in the face and blood sprays from his nose. I slide to my feet and suddenly it's a three on three fight. Kean and Trouble have the two big guys, and I have the small lady with the deadliest weapon of all. All Henry can do is sit helpless in the corner of the box and watch.

And then the weirdest thing happens.

The lights go out. Simple as that. They go out and suddenly we're all swamped in pure darkness.

### Chapter 23

I SWING MY arms out but there's nothing. I can't see my hands or my nose or lights in any other lab. It's dark as death, like nothing exists. Dim backup globes blink awake, tracing the shapes of objects. Suddenly a light in the very centre of the ceiling starts, sending bolts of blue over us.

"No," I say. It comes out with my breath, barely audible, and I just stand there staring up. This can't be happening. _This_ can't be Jacob's distraction.

What did he say? I wrack my brain. How long do we have until total annihilation?

The woman scientist comes flying and knocks me back. She lands right on me, gritting her teeth and pushing the gun down toward me. I grapple with her and we're locked in a surreal power struggle.

She pushes the injection gun toward me and I push back. It hovers between us, the needle aimed at my chest.

She's concentrating so hard that she doesn't see my next move coming. Instead of trying to get away, I slam my forehead against hers. I'm sure there's a technique to head-butting; Jacob made it look so easy in the camera room, but instantly I see stars. Like my brain just shattered. Everything gets slow, my ears whine.

The woman must feel the same because for she loosens her grip for a second, and I manage to pry the gun from her fingers. The minute I have it, she leaps up and takes off, running for a desk. I can see what she's doing, heading for high ground.

The woman jumps onto the desk and clambers up onto the glass boxes. The infected beneath her go crazy, leaping and climbing one another trying to reach the ceiling. She crawls along, heading straight for Liss.

In a second I'm up on the desk and then up on the glass boxes too. I chase her down with all my fury, like a mother bear protecting her cub.

When I'm close enough I grab at her ankle and yank her back. She hits the glass with a thud and kicks out. The gun goes flying straight up and then smacks against the glass, right between us. For a second we both pause. And then we move.

I scramble toward it, she launches herself. We collide, each collecting an uncertain grip. The silver metal gets lost in the chaos of fingers and hands. She's fighting for her own life, but I fight for everyone. Liss. Trouble. Kean. Henry. I'm stronger. I have to be. Suddenly my hand slides into the grip. I yank the trigger awkwardly with my free ring finger.

The woman tenses. The injection spikes her palm. Delivers the infection straight to her bloodstream. She reels back, cradling her hand, horror washing over her features.

She's right near the edge of glass, frozen with shock, and I see my opportunity to get her away from Liss. I barrel toward her and push her right off the side. She doesn't put up a fight, just falls like a ripe fruit and lands splat on her back. I drop the gun and look over to the boys. The situation has changed dramatically.

Trouble and Kean are both pinned down by the scientists, and the woman is getting to her feet now. But what can I do? I can't take on the two... three attackers by myself. If I go down there they'll over power me, but if I stay here I'm no help.

Kean's face is bright red and the big scientist tightens his grip around his neck. A thump comes from below. An infected man claws up at me.

And suddenly I know what to do.

A crash sounds from the other side of the lab and the woman collapses onto a bench of glass beakers.

I punch the code in with my thumb, before I have a chance to change my mind, and the door hisses open. The two infected men race out into the open space of the lab.

"Heads up guys!" I call. "Infected on the loose!"

The infected men lurch toward Kean and Trouble. I haven't seen clean, tidy infected people before — fresh ones with no damage, no blood.

The scientists glance at one another and leap up, rushing across the lab to get away. Kean holds his throat, Trouble watch motionless from the floor. The infected track the scientist's movement and chase them around the bench. Trouble pulls Kean to his feet and goes back for Henry.

Kean is stunned, just standing, blinking.

"Kean," I call. He looks up slowly and coughs.

Trouble comes running with Henry on his back, and I wave them to the desk.

Horrible sounds come from the far corner, screaming and snarling, that sort of thing. I can't see the scientists or infected, they're all down behind the bench, but I can still imagine the scene.

Kean's up first and Trouble leans against the glass so we can drag Henry up with us.

"What's with the lights?" Kean says, rubbing his neck and looking around. "Our big distraction? Not bad."

"No, it is bad." I pause, not wanting to scare Liss or Henry, but looking at their faces I can see they're already frightened to the max. What's one more thing? "Jacob told me flashing blue means thirty minutes, flashing red means ten minutes."

"Till what?" Henry says.

Kean looks back at him. "Till boom time."

"Jacob started the self defence mechanism," I say. "I don't know how long ago."

Kean nods. "Let's move then."

Liss is hovering in the air-conditioning duct. "Go Liss, back the way we came." I slide in after her and Trouble goes next. Kean pushes Henry through and yells instructions. "Hold Trouble's feet, Henry, he'll drag you along."

We scuttle along on hands and knees, not worrying about how much sound we make. The grates flash blue as we clang past. The thin metal wobbles and warps. I look back and Trouble is far behind, face pulled taut with effort, arms pumping. I want to help him but there's nothing I can do.

I count the grates as we go. With four labs to go the lights change from blue to red. Liss stops in front of me, frozen with fright. She knows what it means.

"Keep going!" I scream, pushing her on.

We have ten minutes. Just ten minutes to get out of the air-conditioning duct, through the glass door, up onto the roof and down the escape ladder. That seems like an awful big ask. And on top of that, I have no idea how big the blast will be or how far away from it we need to get. Why on earth did I give Jacob the code? If I hadn't, we'd be casually walking out. But I know at the same time we might never have had a chance to get Trouble and Henry. Maybe I was right to give it up, maybe I was wrong. Nothing I can do now.

We reach the grate to lab one. "I'll go first," I say and Liss moves to the other side. I stick my head out first to make sure the way is clear and then drop down onto the desk. "Liss, come on!"

She drops her legs down first and wiggles out. I grab her waist and pull her towards me. "Guys?" I call. "How far?"

I can hear them banging around but no one answers. I'm guessing we've been in the ducts at least three minutes since the lights went red.

"Guys! Seven minutes! Hurry!" My voice is frantic. Out in the hall scientists are running. No one cares about our presence now.

One fleeing scientist has actually thought of everyone else: the door to the corridor is chocked open with a box, thank god. That'll save us a few seconds time.

Liss is jumping up and down with her fists balled at her sides. She doesn't make a sound.

Finally Trouble comes out of the duct, almost falling straight off the desk. I grab him at the last second and pull him back, just as Henry comes through headfirst. Trouble turns so Henry can grab onto his neck, and I hold Trouble steady as Henry's legs drop out. Kean launches out, hitting the ground with an almighty thud.

"Five minutes!" I yell, leading the way out. I don't actually know how long we've got left, it could be less, could be more. They took my watch when we arrived so I'm trying to keep a tally in my head.

We sprint down the corridor and swing left. My legs are burning, my lungs are burning, but I figure it's nothing compared to the feeling of being exploded. A scientist passes through the glass door and it seals shut behind him. When we reach it I punch in the code. Red lights flash above. I push the door and nothing happens. I punch in the code again but there's no beep. I try again. Nothing. The door won't open.

Trouble, Henry and Kean catch up.

"The code won't work," I say, pulling Kean over. I punch it in again, just to prove it. He rattles the door but it won't budge.

In my head all I can think is _four minutes, four minutes_. It's not enough; we're not going to make it. I can't believe it. Every door I've ever gone through has been the same code, why not this one?

Liss is slamming her palms against the glass, screaming. I try the code again, thinking of every time I've used it before — going into the surveillance room, into the basement, into the science labs.

And it clicks in my head. Every time I've used the code I've been going _in_ , never coming out. "There's another code for going out! This code only works going in!" How could I be so stupid? "I don't know it. I don't know it!"

We're helpless. Trapped. Stuck. And the clock is still ticking down. Three minutes.

Kean grabs my shoulders. "Guess something then!"

I just start punching in anything, random numbers. Liss is still trying to push the door open. Kean is watching me, using his finger to punch imaginary codes in the air. Around us the red lights keep flashing like they're spilling blood across the walls.

"Try it backwards," he says.

"What?"

"It's a circle, right? Punch it in reverse."

I start the code: four-eight-six-two-four-eight. I feel like vomiting and collapsing and exploding all at once.

The door bursts open and Liss falls flat on her face. Kean scoops her up and props her back on her feet as we sprint away.

We're through now, but the hallways are full of people just like us, confused and running. I push through, shoving people out of the way.

"Follow me! There's a way out!" I scream, hoping that some of these poor people will get the idea and tag along. I look back to make sure everyone's following. Kean is holding Liss' hand, and just behind them, Henry hangs from Trouble's back.

Man, Trouble must be tired.

I sprint past the surveillance room thinking _two minutes, two minutes_. I just hope my count is accurate. I slide to a stop in front of the stairwell door and punch in the code. Someone slams me into the wall as they run in the opposite direction, toward the danger, and I just want to scream at them. But this isn't about everyone else. I wish I could save them, I really do. But there's only so much I can do in two minutes. I keep yelling, "This way!" as I push through the door and launch myself up the steps three at a time. I punch in the code before anyone gets there and hold the door open.

Cool night air blows in. Outside it's pitch dark. And I remember the torch, still tucked in my waistband. I switch it on.

Once my four are through, I let go of the door and hope that a stream of followers might keep it open. I search the ledge for the ladder and climb straight over.

"Follow me, Liss," I say, and jam the torch into my teeth. The metal clangs as we begin our frenzied descent. The torchlight bounces around and I can see Kean and Trouble climbing down too. I reach the last rung and stop because I know it's still a decent drop to the concrete, maybe two metres. But I forget that no one else knows. They keep coming, forcing me down.

Liss has nowhere to go and is crushing up against my face. My fingers start slipping; I can't yell out because I'll drop the torch. Suddenly I'm bumped off. My arms flail back. They flap about, trying to keep my body upright through the fall. The ground comes up so fast and somehow I land on my feet.

My shins explode with white hot pain and I scream out. The torch hits the concrete. I think my legs are still in one piece, because I'm still standing, just shocked from the sudden landing.

"Jump!" I call up and grapple for the torch at the same time. Liss comes flying down to me and we both collapse backward. "It's a big drop, Kean!" I yell. I know he'll be fine with it so I just focus on getting us back on our feet and shining the torch up so the others can see where they're going.

Henry dangles off Trouble's back, and I hope his grip is good; a fall from there would kill him. Above them, people lean out, peering over the edge, looking for an escape.

Kean touches down and he grabs my arms so they make a sort of net. Trouble is so strong that he lowers himself to the very last rung and just hangs there, giving Henry the best chance.

"Henry, drop now!" Kean grips my wrists. I'm still holding the torch, it points to his stomach. Henry lets go and drops quicker than I thought possible. We lurch forward and catch him perfectly. We step back and Trouble drops down, angling himself so Henry can get straight back on his shoulders.

"One minute. We have to move!" I point the torch toward the back fence and sprint. For every single step I take I'm convinced the explosion is coming. With less than a minute to go, we're out of the building, but just how far away is safety?

I don't know why but as I run my mind goes to Jacob. Is he still inside? Did he get out? And then Adrian. Is he still taped to the chair in the surveillance room? If he is... But I can't allow myself to worry about them anymore.

I reach the wooden fence and climb, gripping with my strongest fingers and thumbs. My hands are clumsy and they shriek with pain but I figure pain is better than being dead. Liss overtakes me, climbing effortlessly, and reaches the top first. I flick myself over and straddle the fence, shining the torch down so Liss can see where to go. Kean is up and reaches back to help Trouble, but there's not much he can do.

All this commotion will be attracting infected people in droves. I flash the torch around the back yard just before we drop into it, and I run straight for the side gate.

"Liss, we're out in the open now. Infected people can be anywhere." That's the overly protective sister in me, running from a deadly explosion but still finding the time to warn Liss about everything else. Trouble's on the ground now. We burst through the side gate and forge on down the driveway.

_Thirty seconds_ , my mind screams. _Thirty seconds_.

I pause when we reach the street and then head right. We need to get to the main road, get a car and get out of here.

"How far do we have to be?" Kean yells, running up along side me.

"I don't know!" We hit Centre Road at top speed and turn left, heading away from Arcadium. The night is alive with the sound of running footsteps. They almost sound like rain, the way our soles patter the bitumen with abandon.

"We should take cover!" Kean yells. "Now, before the blast!"

We weave through silent cars, following the small torch beam through the darkness.

"Florence!" Kean yells again. "Take cover,"

With just seconds left, I dive behind a car and drag Liss with me. Kean waits for the others. I pull Trouble down and hold him, just in case he tries to get up.

I glance up. Kean's just about to crouch down, and I feel the blast before I hear it. It's like a wind snapping out, surging under and over the car. I duck my head and pull Liss in tight. The windows shatter. The sky erupts with sound.

It's so sudden, like a deep vibrating thunderclap right inside my head. The roar subsides and my ears start ringing.

Debris clatters to the ground around us: pieces of stone, shards of building. When I open my eyes the sky is blood red. I let Liss go and kneel behind the car, watching. A huge fireball burns up into the night. A cloud of caustic smoke spreads out in the wind, blocking out the stars.

"Is everyone ok?" I say.

Liss is standing now, wiping her face. Trouble shakes dust from his hair, and Henry is just sitting against the back of the car, staring out into the darkness. I follow his gaze and realise what he's looking for. Kean is gone.

I jump to my feet and take a few steps. "Kean?" I call.

Nothing.

"Where's Kean? Henry, do you see him?" I spin about in case he's off to one side. Liss and Trouble are watching me, slowly coming toward me.

"Help me!" I scream. "Help me find Kean!"

Liss starts calling out his name. Trouble hoists Henry up onto his back and they move between the cars, searching left and right. Where is he?

I lead the way with the torch, swooping it low over the ground. When I last saw Kean he was standing over us... how far could he be now? How far could the blast propel him?

"Kean!" I keep screaming. "Where are you?" I don't care about being quiet anymore.

How can we have come this far? After everything we've been through, this is how it ends? How can I accept that. I don't even care if an infected person jumps out and attacks me right now. It wouldn't matter. Maybe I'd just let it. Maybe I don't want to be this fragile, knowing that if any thing happens to Kean, I can break this easily.

"Kean!"

We move together, looking back and forth. Trouble actually yells his name. I suppose it's not hard to pick when we've screamed it a hundred times. But it's the way Trouble says it that gets to me. It's like he's sifting through sand looking for a tiny piece of himself.

Trouble's the only one calling out now. Everyone else falls silent.

"There!" Liss points to the right. And I see Kean's crumpled body, pressed up against a car. He's not moving.

I run forward and skid to a stop beside him. I don't know what to do, if I should touch him or leave him. Either way I have to do something. And I don't think I can cause him any more damage, so I roll him over and touch his face.

"Kean? Are you all right?"

His eyes are closed, hiding his crystal green gaze. His lips sit perfectly still, slightly parted.

"Is he dead?" Liss says.

I listen for a breath, but can't hear it over the flames and the yells and everyone else breathing. I watch Kean's chest to see if it moves, but I'm shaking so much, I don't trust my own eyes. I press my fingers to his neck, the neck that survived being almost strangled to death. I press them deeper, poke them about. Searching for a sign.

Suddenly I can't look at him anymore. I look up. Henry catches my gaze and stares me down, demanding to know what I know.

What do I say?

What do I say to him?

To everyone.

This is my fault. I led us into hell. I should have known we couldn't all make it out.

My mouth opens, tries to form words.

And then Kean coughs.

Shock snaps through me and I nearly jump out of my skin.

Trouble kneels down. "Kean?" he says.

Liss touches Kean's foot and he groans. His lips pinch into a grimace but I don't feel relief. Kean's been thrown far. He could have any number on injuries that we can't treat. Ones we can even see.

Kean opens his eyes. They land straight on me. "What do you know, Trouble learnt a new word." He coughs. "Second best word to know in the apocalypse."

"Can you sit up?" I say.

Kean grabs my hand and hauls himself up. "That was some powerful blast... like being smacked in the face with a mallet."

Even though it's a totally inappropriate response to have, I laugh. Trouble puts Henry down next to me and Henry bursts out laughing too. Liss breaks into a smile, looking between us.

"I thought you were gone," I say.

Kean stares at me for a moment and smiles. "I told you I could be the hero. Just a few more times and I'll be equal with you."

"We're equal," I say, shaking my head. "You can even be ahead."

A car rumbles to life and we all look over. Trouble is hanging out the driver's side window doing a double thumbs-up. Kean gets to his feet slowly, clutching my hand. I grab Liss around the shoulders and Trouble comes back to pick up Henry.

"I feel like we should be doing some kind of epic slow motion walk away," Kean says.

"Yeah," Henry says, stretching to see over Trouble's shoulder. "With all the burning buildings in the background and ACDC as the soundtrack."

We pile into the car. Kean and Trouble sit up front; Liss, me and Henry sit in the back. Henry grabs the driver's seat headrest as the car begins to move and pulls himself forward. "I'm going to need another wheelchair, guys."

Kean leans his head back. "I'm sure there's an old folk's home around here somewhere."

"I don't want old people wheels." Henry grins. "I need light performance materials. I need cool."

Kean shifts slightly and grimaces. "For picking up all the chicks?"

Henry and Kean keep shooting witty comments back and forth. Liss yawns and I rub some dirt or something off her forehead.

"So how far is it from here?" she asks.

I want to answer with an eye roll but I just put my arm around her. "Not far, this time. Promise."

I lean forward and point for Trouble. "That way."

"Where are we going?" Henry asks. "It's not another Arcadium, is it?"

I look over and shake my head. "No. No way." I draw in a breath. "No one's going to look after us but ourselves. We'll make our own sanctuary and wait until the world catches up."

"That sounds better." Henry sits back. "Hey, we're going to need new threads too, these are so uncool. White does nothing for my complexion."

I glance down at Liss and she giggles. I lean my cheek on the top of her head and close my eyes.

I can't believe we're alive, all of us.

We made it across Melbourne, through infected hordes. Into Arcadium. Out of Arcadium. We started out as strangers from different corners, different worlds, and then we gave each other a reason to live. We gave each other hope.

And even though we find ourselves on the open road again, heading into the dark unknown, I'm not afraid. Yeah, there are infected people out there still, but everything I need is right here. And whatever happens next is probably supposed to be the happily ever after. But whatever.

###  Epilogue

LISS AND I sit on the swing together, and I swear her laugh is contagious. Her purple dress floats with each sway, and her bare feet dangle over the wooden balcony. Above us, the trees creak in a soft breeze. The sun trickles through the leaves, making her hair sparkle. We swing back and this time when we swoop forward, I step off.

My bare feet connect with the wooden balcony and I can't tell you how nice it is to have the luxury of not wearing shoes all the time.

Trouble is leaning on the balcony, staring out into the forest. He looks at me as I pass by and gives me one of his sunshine smiles. "Hi," he says.

"Hi." I smile back.

Liss calls to him and Trouble walks over. He gives the swing a big push and she cheers. Henry is behind them, trying to lure birds onto the balcony rail with crushed M&Ms.

The leaves above us brush against one another, sounding something like running water. They sprinkle golden afternoon light across us like glitter.

"Lunch!" Kean steps out of the house wearing a white t-shirt, jeans and an apron with tongs tucked into the front pocket. He's holding a plate of baked beans and something wrapped up in tin foil. "I'm just going to fire up the barbie."

"What is it?" I say wrapping my arm around his torso. He leans in close and kisses me. It doesn't matter how many times he does it, it still makes my heart go wacky.

"Damper bread." He grins and sets down the plate. "A true Aussie bush meal."

A strong gust of wind sways the house gently. It's on stilts, on the side of a hill, so it happens sometimes. You get used to it. I always remember the Dandenong Ranges as a nice quiet place in the normal times, so I couldn't think of anywhere better to be now. It's about an hours drive from the gutted Arcadium site, and far enough away from the city that we hardly ever see any infected.

We have beds and rainwater tanks and even have warm baths sometimes, if we can be bothered to boil pots of water. We have the barbecue too, and all these extra gas canisters to heat our food, so we're doing pretty well.

"Hey guys!" Henry whispers as loud as he can. "Liss, Trouble. Look."

Trouble pulls the swing to a stop and they both look over. Henry has managed to bribe a green and orange parrot-looking bird into sitting on the railing. Liss creeps over to Henry, trying not to startle the bird, and she drags Trouble along with her.

Trouble kneels next to Henry and Liss sits on his knee. They stare at this bird with so much wonder you'd think they've never seen one before.

"What are you going to call him?" Liss says.

Henry looks thoughtful. "I'll call him Robert."

"That's a terrible name," Liss giggles. "And it might be a girl. Call her Helly."

"But what if it's a boy?"

"Then call it... Ro... He. Ooh, I know. Hero!"

"Yeah, Hero. I like that." Henry nods. "Good birdy, birdy, Hero. Eat your M&Ms."

Kean just laughs, kisses my forehead and moves onto the barbecue. "You guys want to ask Hero if it likes damper?" he calls, as he puts down the plate.

I wander over to see if I can help Kean, but all I seem to do is distract him from the task at hand.

I like this place. It's quiet, I mean, we haven't seen an infected person in months and I feel safe here. It's kind of like living in a tree house. And there's a stream near by so we have everything we need to survive. We could stay here forever.

Kean steps in behind me and curls his arms around my waist. He rests his head on my shoulder and I snuggle into him.

"I love you," he says, loud enough for the others to hear.

Liss and Henry turn around and start giggling.

"I love you, too!" Liss squeals.

"Oh, sweetie pie," Henry says, in a lady-like voice. "I love you."

"Love, love, love." Liss starts blowing exaggerated kisses to us. "Mwah, mwah, mwah!"

I look at Kean.

Seriously, siblings can be so annoying sometimes.

Kean grins and plants a soft kiss on my lips.

I know the infection is still out there, wreaking havoc and destruction across my country. It may never end.

But I also believe that out there, somewhere, someone is searching for a cure. They'll never stop. Don't get me wrong, I'd like a cure, but if it doesn't happen, then I think this is enough for me.

This is my cure.

### # End of Book One #

### About the Author

Born and raised in New Zealand, Sarah Gray spent her teenage years in Australia, where she raced go-karts, studied graphic design and then sports management, before deciding that all along she'd just wanted to be a novelist. After studying professional writing and editing in Melbourne, Sarah ended up in England where she now resides in the ever rainy Lake District working as an outdoor activity instructor and writing in her spare moments.

### Thanks

I'd like to offer a most heartfelt thank you to **you** , the reader, for taking a chance on this book. Without **you** there would be no writers. Without **you** there would be no independent publishing opportunities for artists like me. Without **you** the world would be a pretty boring place.

Skylight

Think Florence and the gang got their happily ever after?

Think again.

They've found safety in a beautiful mountain sanctuary.

But they are not alone.

When the infection claims one her group, Florence West will find out just how far she'll go to keep her family together, even if it means risking everyone's lives.

Because Florence is carrying a dark secret. And when it gets out, it'll kick off a chain of events that threatens to shatter their fragile existence forever.

The stakes are higher. The stunts are crazier. The truth is coming.

Out 2nd July 2014

### Connect with Sarah Gray

Blog: http://sarahjacinda.wordpress.com

Twitter: <https://twitter.com/Sarah_Jacinda>

Facebook: http://facebook.com/arcadiumthenovel

Smashwords: http://smashwords.com/profile/view/sarahgray

Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/sarahjacinda

To report a typo/error (this is always welcomed!) please email thewordsmithstress@gmail.com or leave a message on my blog.

### Australianisms

_Bull Rush:_ A schoolyard game (that goes by a thousand other names too) played on a square area. Kids line up on one side, while the person who is 'it' stands in the middle. All at once they have to run to the other side and cross the line without being tagged by 'it'. If they are tagged they must stay in the middle and help to tag the runners. The runners keep going until there is only one person left and they are the winner! I remember playing this until it got banned from my school for apparently being too dangerous.

_Damper:_ A simple bread made of flour, butter and milk that bush folk used to make back in the day.

_Home and Away:_ An extremely popular, extremely long running Australian TV series showcasing Australian beach culture. Stone the flaming crows! Loads of Australian artists began their career here, like Danni Minogue, Delta Goodrem, Chris Hemsworth, Guy Pearce, Isla Fisher, Melissa George, Julian McMahon and Ryan Kwanten.

_Melanoma:_ Ok, so this isn't really an Australianism but loads of people I meet don't know what it is. Melanoma is an aggressive form of skin cancer caused by excessive sun exposure (that includes UV exposure from solariums). It's bad... really bad. And it's one of the most common cancers in Australia. So wear your sunscreen people!

_Stonking: '_ It's stonking hot' means extremely or it's freaking baking! But if something is stonking full stop it usually means positively awesome.

_Tim Tams:_ Seriously the best biscuit ever. I don't know why it isn't available worldwide. In the UK it's kind of like one of those penguin biscuit things... but way more indulgent. For you poor souls who've never had the pleasure, a Tim Tam is like creamy chocolate stuff wedged between two chocolate biscuit slabs and then dipped in chocolate. And then there are all the other flavours like double dipped and white chocolate and caramel and a thousand other types... excuse me while I drool.

_Vegemite:_ A dark spread (like jam or peanut butter) made of yeast. Vegemite has a really strong, salty taste. You either love it or hate it, apparently, and I love it. It's fab on toast.

### Choose Your Own Journey: Florence West

Welcome to the zombie apocalypse. This is an adventure story that you control! When prompted, simply make your choice and follow it to the corresponding number (either by clicking the link or scrolling). This was a guest post for Bookish Brunette's Zombie Craze 2013. Check the original out at  http://www.bookish-brunette.com/choose-your-own-adventure-zombie-apocalypse/ where you can leave comments and see how everyone else went. Enjoy!

Can you survive the journey, or will one wrong move end your life? Proceed to 1 to find out.

### 1.

It's a sweltering summer day in Melbourne, Australia, and these are dangerous times. A strange virus has swept through the population, turning perfectly healthy people into rabid zombies. Chaos reins in the streets — people are trying to escape in their cars, or on foot, dragging suitcases of belongings with them. Others peer from their windows, determined not to run, trying to call loved ones on dead phone lines. Thankfully the zombies haven't reached your street yet, but the last TV station showing the madness in the city just went offline. You must act now.

Your name is Florence West and you are standing in your mother's house, still holding your mobile that shows the last text message you received before the signal died. It's from your little sister, Liss. She's at your dad's house, on the other side of the city. Sadly, like your mother, he never came home from work, and now Liss needs you. You must get to her before she does something stupid and gets herself killed. Remember, in the zombie apocalypse, every choice counts. Go to 2

### 2.

You consult a map, looking for the best way to get to her. Left will take you around the city, which might have fewer zombies, but will you get to Liss in time? Right will take you straight through the heavily populated city, a dangerous land of hook-turns and one-way streets, but it will save you precious time. After all, your sister is only nine. How long can she last on her own? So... what will you choose?

**LEFT:** Go to 3 — **RIGHT:** Go to 4

### 3.

You went left, so you're probably playing it safe. And that's not such a bad idea. I mean, the zombie apocalypse is not the place for impulse decisions and unnecessary risks. Unfortunately for you, the streets around here are deserted. Any chance you had of catching a lift with someone in a car seems lost. But there has to be something else. You jog down the street until you find an open garage. Perfect! Inside sits a shiny powder blue scooter with keys still in the ignition. But then something else catches your eye, a super cool pair of rollerblades — the expert kind that don't have a brake on them. And they don't need to be refuelled ever. You glance between the choices. What will it be?

**STEAL SCOOTER:** Go to 5 — **STEAL ROLLERBLADES:** Go to 6

### 4.

You went right. You don't mind a risk because you know they give the greatest rewards. But going through the city with all those zombies and gridlocked traffic? Well you must be truly badass. But no matter how daring you are, you know you're going to need a ride, so you run to the nearest intersection and manage to flag a car down. In fact, two stop for you, which means you have a choice to make. Will you go with Dean the car salesman, and his wife, Nikki, in their bright red Holden Clubsport? Or will you choose to catch a ride with Sally, the female racing car driver, in her charcoal coloured Mini Cooper?

**CAR SALESMAN:** Go to 7 — **RACING CAR DRIVER:** Go to 8

### 5.

You pull on the helmet, which smells faintly of sweat, and zoom off on your scooter, coving a huge distance with ease. The scooter is small enough to fit through any traffic jams, and speedy enough to evade any lonely zombies you cross paths with, and you happily whiz along, making it to the other side of the city in one piece. But suddenly the engine coughs, and chugs, and then cuts out all together. You coast to a stop, and pause for just a second, counting five zombies shambling towards you. Think quick. Will you duck into a building and wait it out, or will you ditch the helmet and run for your life?

**HIDE:** Go to 9 — **RUN:** Go to 10

### 6.

Really? I mean, I'm just the narrator. But really? You set off skating, with the wind in your hair and sweat soaking into your clothes, nimbly gliding between abandoned cars, jumping gutters, and winding through debris. You blade a whole kilometre before realising that it is just way too much hard work, and that at this rate it'll take you days to reach Liss, and that's just not good enough. So you turn back and go for that scooter. Go to 5

### 7.

Dean the car salesman is still in sales mode, it seems, not wanting to break the speed limit or scratch the paintwork. And the noise of the car! My God, it'll attract every zombie within a fifteen-kilometre radius! When Dean stops at a stop sign and cautiously checks both ways, you bail out and put as much distance between you and that bad choice. A few minutes later you find an abandoned scooter with keys still in the ignition and you decide to go it alone... fricking adults. Go to 5

### 8.

The Mini flies around debris and hordes of zombies, finding impossible gaps in near gridlock traffic. You cling to your seatbelt as she deftly manoeuvres through the city streets, making fantastic time. But she can only take you so far. Sally is heading in a different direction, trying to get to her family. You are grateful for her help and know you can't ask her for anything more, so you thank her and part ways. You've only been walking for a few minutes down a quiet suburban street when you hear them approaching—the distorted moans, the bare feet slapping on the road. Zombies. What will you do?

**HIDE:** Go to 9 — **RUN:** Go to 10

### 9.

There's nothing wrong with hiding when faced with zombies, after all, you are not an action star and this isn't the movies. As long as you've got multiple exits, you should be fine, right? You try the front door of the nearest house, but it's locked, so you make a dash for the backyard, spotting the open shed door. You dive in and listen. It doesn't sound like they've followed you, so you relax and try to catch your breath. Glancing around, you find a bottle of water, a banana and a packet of barbecue-flavoured potato chips. Mmmm. You scull the beautiful crystalline water and feel much better. But now you have a choice. Which snack will you choose to eat now, and which will you save for your sister?

**EAT BANANA:** Go to 11 — **EAT POTATO CHIPS:** Go to 12

### 10.

Ruuuuun! Run for your life! You sprint down the road, breathing hot air and squinting from the glare of the sun. Thank goodness for adrenaline, because this is hard work. You dive between abandoned cars, constantly switching directions to get past the zombies. And you make it. But what lies further down the road? Will you keep running, or will you duck into that garden shed and look for a weapon?

**KEEP RUNNING:** Go to 13 — **LOOK FOR WEAPON:** Go to 11

### 11.

Okay, so now you decide a weapon might be handy for the next part of the journey. The only problem is you've ducked into a garden shed that—judging by the drooping plants and wilting flowerbeds you cut across to get here—has not been used in, well, forever. You look around. Twine? Nope. Lawn mower blade? No tools to get it off. You know you're not going to find a gun because this is Australia... plus it's not like you'd know how to use one anyway. Think, Florence, think! Then you spot them, tucked away in the corner—a long handled spade, heavy and cumbersome, yes, but you bet it packs a punch. Or there, just behind it, a rake, made of wood and plastic. It's lighter and easier to swing, but will it stand up to the task of mashing zombie brains?

**HEAVY SPADE:** Go to 14 — **LIGHT RAKE:** Go to 15

### 12.

Oh the horror! Who knew that a packet of potato chips would be your downfall in the zombie apocalypse! While you chomp away, completely oblivious, the crinkling packet and crunching of snacks are attracting nearby zombies. Soon you are surrounded. The undead go crazy! They break through the flimsy shed door and, well, I'll spare you the gory details. You are killed terribly. What a shame! And who knows what will happen to your sister now?

YOU ARE KILLED TERRIBLY. **To try again:** Go to 2

### 13.

You keep running, keep pumping those legs, keep ducking and diving between infected zombified people. You're not afraid! You don't need to hide! But pretty soon the heat gets to you, your pace slows. Maybe you should have at least stopped to look for water. I mean, this is a summer day and it's at least 40 degrees right now! You're sticky and sweaty, your throat is dust-dry, your muscles burn.

Frick! A zombie almost grabs your arm! You reel away and practically feed yourself to the snapping jaws of another zombie. You scream and pull away — still running of course, you just love running — but it's too late. You stare down at the oozing bite mark on your arm. You start to feel woozy, your vision blurs slightly, and then everything goes red. You blink — once, twice — and then you fall. As you stare up at the cloudless sky your last thoughts are of your sister. How will she ever survive without you? But then again, with the choices you've made so far, maybe Liss will be better off on her own.

YOU ARE ZOMBIFIED! DOOMED TO ROAM APOCALYPTIC MELBOURNE IN AN ENDLESS SEARCH FOR HUMAN BRAINS. **To try again:** Go to 2

### 14.

Hmm. Perhaps you should have done more push-ups in normal times. It's not long before you run into a handful of zombies, and realise that the only thing the spade is good for is perhaps digging your own grave. It's just too heavy and you're far too slow with it. You swing wildly, and clobber a few undead heads, but it's too hard to run with. You get stuck... surrounded by gnashing jaws, and sickly peeling hands with bones protruding where flesh once was. Oh dear. You are overwhelmed by the horde. Cue the violins, the tear jerking montage of your tragic journey, and finally the end credits.

YOU ARE NO LONGER WITH THE LIVING BUT YOU ARE NOT UNDEAD. THAT MEANS YOU ARE SIMPLY... DEAD. HUH. THAT'S A BIT ANTICLIMACTIC. **To try again:** Go to 2

### 15.

I mean, yeah the plastic bit breaks off the rake the moment you swing it at your first zombie head, but the stick holds up and you can kind of use it to prod any infected out of your way, and at the very least keep them out of biting distance. Phew. You evade a handful of zombies thanks to your light and nimble weapon choice. You didn't do any damage really, but you're not a professional zombie slayer, are you? Not yet anyway. You run, trying to put as much distance between you, and after a while you hear something. A crackling sound, coming from an abandoned car. It's the radio! But how is that possible? There's one message playing over and over again. It's from the government, listing their refuge centres. You're hot and tired, thirsty and scared. Death is around every corner. You begin to have a moral dilemma. Save yourself or continue on and try to save your sister too?

**CONTINUE ON:** Go to 17 — **SEEK SAFETY:** Go to 16

### 16.

Okaaay. Somebody lost her morals pretty early on in the apocalypse. You decide to head to the safety of the government refuge centre without Liss, because it's not like you believe in karma, and let's face it, you never really liked her anyway. You're last seen entering the compound, and shortly after you're declared missing, presumed dead. Where did you go? What happened to you? No one knows. And sadly, no one seems to care, especially not the little sister you abandoned. But if there's one thing to get out of this ordeal is that Liss is probably better off on her own.

YOU SUFFER A MYSTERIOUS AND OMINOUS ENDING. WHO KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED? PITY. AND YOU SEEMED SO NICE... NOT! **To try again:** Go to 2

### 17.

Congratulations! High five! Can you hear the choir singing? You're choices have been brave and wise, and you clearly know your zombie stuff. Liss has been sitting in your father's house the whole time, just waiting for someone to come home. But where are your parents? Your friends? Could they really all be dead?

Nothing's clear. And though you've survived for now, you know you and your sister are on your own from here on out. No parents, no weapons, no safety. This is only just beginning.

YOU ARE ALIVE. YOU HAVE FOUND LISS. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
