 
### SIMOOM

Book 3 of The Sky's Alight Trilogy

Published by Tam Sturgeon at Smashwords

Copyright Tam Sturgeon 2018

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed within it are

the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or deceased, or any events

mentioned is entirely coincidental.

Tam Sturgeon asserts the moral right to

be identified as the author of this work.

Cover imagery courtesy of the author.

Cover design by Tam Sturgeon.

Copyright Tam Sturgeon 2018

### ~

### Simoom

### Part 1

### Yellow Ribbons

Summer: 1955: The south coast: England.

The cold depths dragged and pushed, the current a strong pulse, swaying from side to side, but its arms weren't prepared to let go just yet. Sunlight flitted and rolled across the surface, its beams breaking through enough to stretch wavering lines down to the body below. They laid a pattern over the face and torso, as it floated, silently, with staring eyes and open mouth.

It was a person once, that floater, a real person, with a life, friends and family. They had been a nice one, hardworking, respectful, understanding and caring. A life worth living, one that hadn't really gotten underway, but it was a life nonetheless. There was fun and laughter, daytrips to the coast, shopping trips at Christmas, and all the other events that happen throughout a young lifetime. A boyfriend was had once, but it didn't last, he cheated, so she dumped his worthless backside.

The shallows were not so deep. Gently rocking and rolling, they swilled it out, a stillborn on the beach, miles from home. The eyes saw nothing, the ears heard nothing. Once they had, not so long ago. Then they didn't, peppered with sand, the wet hair stuck to face and neck, and those grey eyes lost to the blue above.

Another day sees another death. Was that how life was and what it had become? There was no escaping it. With the second full moon appearing everything had changed. The tides went insane, so the land became sea, fires took the cities and towns back to rubble, and half the country's population vanished, or morphed into another version of whom they used to be. After that, well, there was no going back, the new world had a rite of passage, and if you lived through it, maybe you weren't so lucky.

Seaweed, sand, and surf slushed its way around her, only to ripple back home again. Lifting strands of her hair, it danced with them and then let them rest. It was quiet, no one to walk a dog, no one to swim or play, the early morning lazy in its warmth. The houses were silent empty boxes sat along the promenade, the shops ransacked, some of them gutted and blackened to their bones. No tourists to admire the view, no ramblers, no locals, all vanished away, leaving the body on the beach, alone.

Gulls swam above, looking down at her, their calls heard on the salty breeze. With the sun on their backs they dropped a little, just near enough to cure their curiosity. Whatever it was, it wasn't food. So they moved away, heading back out to sea.

Brown liquid oozed from a hole in her chest, the one the size of a bullet. There seemed a bigger mess at the back, a jagged exit wound, and it exposed those parts not normally seen. Grey eyes watched that endless swathe of sky dotted with departing gulls. Her silence was a common thing, but usually the bullet was to the head, not the body.

You're not dead yet...

Lids fluttered over grey orbs. She rolled over, coughing salt water from her lungs. Her first dragged in breath was sweet and heady, the oxygen almost making her high. Looking down, a finger pushed into the hole through her clothes, as she checked herself for further damage. The ache to her back suggested she might have a small problem there.

'... Well, blooming typical ... I've only had this top three days ...'

Getting her energy level back up would require feeding. Her dented side told her to head for people but she couldn't. She had a hole through her, causing massive damage, and that would be a bit of a giveaway. Walking into a compound would be a very bad idea, and one that would, without a doubt, end with that shot to the head. So, she sat with her hole, to look out to sea, her eyes on the horizon, and her face to the sun.

Yesterday she was okay, yesterday it had been fine and life ticked alone. How had she gotten there and in that state? It had been quiet, as usual, so she had breakfast on the patio, looking over the pretty garden. Thinking her yesterday through, the memory seemed to be tainted somehow, to then end as she was walking along her quiet cliff.

Finally standing to look around her, dripping wet and looking gauntly grey, she knew where she was, she recognised the beach. Judging by how far she had drifted at sea, only the tide would know how she got there. With cold water up to her ankles, her eyes watched the roll of waves. That way was home, so that was the direction she walked.

Making her way off the stones, she had to plug the hole, cover her back and eat something. Where would she find what she needed? No droners about, just her, as she walked towards the few shops that were less damaged by fire. Squeezing through the broken door, she checked the building through using her secret sight before going any further. Happy with the emptiness, she moved forwards.

Standing before a shelf of souvenir tea towels, she grabbed several, dropping them into the bag she had looted along the way. One was taken from the bottom of the pile and rammed into the raw opening. Wincing from the sharp flare-up under her skin, she knew it had to be cleaned, because the last thing she needed was an ugly skin problem.

Her back, she could do nothing about that until she reached home. Behind the counter she noticed some pharmaceutical items, creams, lotions, and a selection of mild painkillers. Squeezing the antiseptic cream into the thumb wide breach in her body, she bagged the rest to take with her.

Heading for the dusty novelty jackets, hung near the back, she pulled a medium from the rail and flicked it free of its powdery layer. Seeing the women's tops to one side, she quickly striped and replaced what was trashed. Removing her long sleeve top and vest was the hardest part, the lifting of arms very uncomfortable due to her injury. Looking to her left, she saw just what she needed. Lifting her faded beach bag, she loaded it up for what came next.

It would heal, the wound, eventually, but only if food was found soon. In her new outfit, and with her aching exit hole, she threaded her way back into the light, her bag of goodies hanging from her hand.

Turn that way and head for the cliffs. There was a coastal path she could take, that would keep her in line with her place. It sat not far from the headland, the area very pretty and almost forgotten. Walking away, she ambled along the empty road, her grey eyes still checking, her ears still listening.

With what energy remained, the young woman climbed the path, the steep incline enough to make her stop several times. Taking the bench with the view, a big breath was released, her sigh a sign she was getting tired already. Only a little further, push and go, make the top, and then all would be well. Breakfast time nearly, looking at the low sun in the east. It was a burning hunger, fizzing away in the pit of her stomach, hollow and hot.

Moving to a patch where white and grey birds circled above, she emptied the bag onto the ground around her, then knelt to rip open the treats covered in chocolate. One was crammed into her mouth, just to savour the experience, whilst the others were squished together to make two large blocks. Pushing her rubbish into her jacket pockets, she lifted from her spot to put her plan into action.

Gulls are a funny breed. They are scavengers by heart, and will eat anything that is held in a human's hand. They are also known for swooping down and stealing from you, which she was counting on. That was why she had already given them the nickname thieving sky sacks.

'... Okay ... Chooky, chooky, chooky ... Come and get it ...'

Standing with her arms stretched out to the side, as if a tree, she called her words into the wind, her hands holding the chunks of bait aloft for them all to see. As the aroma lifted, their cries became louder, their forms becoming larger the nearer they dared to sail.

A speckled grey youngster, not aware of what was afoot, swung down on her left. It hung there on the slip-stream from the cliff's face, a draught enough to carry his weight. Another then appeared, slightly older, doing the same on her right. Their eyes never left that which they wanted, but having the nerve to take, that was something else.

Her aim was true, quick as a whip. As they coasted forwards, her hands rendered the food suspended there, leaving her fingers free to snatch up and grab their dangling legs. With one flick they were out of the air, necks broken, and her teeth sunk into a breast. Feasting on the hot fluid, and taking in that which was so desperately needed, her hunger slowly died away with every amazing mouthful. If she was at home already, she would have taken a rabbit from the pen, but she wasn't, so she had to make do with two plump birds instead.

'Pete said there was nothing worth seeing that way, Art, but those places, down there, haven't been picked through yet, there's no ribbon on the gates ... You wanna try them first, before we go?'

Arthur was stood looking down the slope as Cally called to him from the junction. They were heading back to the compound, but something made her stop and turn.

'I'm loaded up already, I can't carry anymore, Cal ... Shall I go and get the beast then meet you back here? You can have a gander around then, see what else you find, if anything,' he replied, shielding the sun from his eyes with his hand. '... And listen for moaners, because I won't be there to cover your back, so just remember that ...'

The pair of them had cleared through about twenty houses on their trip that morning. Having piled various items in the back of the old army lorry, it was near full to capacity, but there was always room for more. In their subterranean compound they had most of everything. There wasn't much they didn't have, because they did runs on a regular basis. Okay, it wasn't some fancy palace down there, but it was safe, below ground, and all that was required to survive the horrors above.

'Yeah, I know ... I was out here for more years than I care to recall, all by myself, if you'd kindly remember that, so, please, give me a little credit, aye, I do know what we're up against ... And I won't forget, never fear, just make sure you don't,' was said as she ambled towards the dead-end lane that led further toward the cliffs.

As Cally started talking, Arthur headed for the rise, his heavy bags soon to be deployed in the truck parked on the hill. Once done, he manoeuvred it around and rolled down to sit in the middle of the road, reversed round, facing homewards. Climbing out, he locked it, and then followed Cally's humming voice as she looked around, picking one to go for.

'So, do ya fancy that one, there, then? Big garden, double garage ... Nice view ... I like it ...'

Cally smiled as she walked through and round to the rear to look out across the sea. From the other side of the hedge, a meadow stretched away, sloping to the coastal path. The cliffs sat quiet, the gulls cried as they climbed, and all was as it should be. She turned and looked at the man that had joined her, her face serious as usual.

'So, off ya go, you're up ... Is there anything we should know about ... Best be safe than sorry ...'

Arthur closed his eyes, his breathing slow and steady. Using his inner-sight, he checked through the property. It was empty, as with them all.

'Nah, nothing in there to worry about ... A dead dog and cat, that's it, so it'll have its usual smell ... Did you bring a face-mask?' he concluded, pulling his round to put in place.

'Yes ... Always do ...'

It was dragged from a pocket and place over her nose and mouth, an act they had both become used to. Sometimes it was worse than pets, sometimes it was big and little people, and that was terrible too, but in many different ways, not just in smell.

They broke in through the back door and located the large kitchen. More bags were filled with tins and packets, along with any bottled alcohol. Medicine cabinets were rifled, anything for the first aid unit, bandages, tweezers, tablets and creams. Baby gear was lifted for Clare, sleep-suits, feeding equipment, nappies, and soft toys. Clothes were browsed through, but none tried for size, then, lastly, weapons of any shape or form, knives, swords, axes, anything sharp and everything pointy.

It was all loaded into a wheel barrow Arthur came across in the garage. Sweeping the gaff through one last time, just for good measure, they let themselves out and made their way back to the lorry. The ribbon was pinned in place on the gate, as usual, as they left.

After stashing that little lot away, they came across a find of a lifetime. Large boxes were found in a garage, and filled with the many grey, short legged, long eared, grass munching machines. The furry bundles where then placed in the lorry, ready for rehoming. When done, the house was also marked on the map, in ink, for future reference.

Nodding up the slope, Arthur indicated an opening between two fences, just opposite the house where they came across the dead pets, cats or dogs, they were unable to say.

'There's a shop down that alleyway ... I told Pete I'd grab him some smokes if I saw one ... You wanna wait here while I go take a look?' Arthur asked, closing the back of the lorry and pushing the barrow to one side, out of the road.

'House rule number one, stay together ... Remember? ... So I better come with, just in case ... I know we haven't seen any for ages, but it'd be just our luck you'd walk into a horde,' she grinned, following along behind with her ex-army sword in hand.

As always, they were heard before they were seen, that noise unmistakeable, hence their appropriate title Moaners. There were three in total, two big and one small. They started a quick stagger when fresh meat came into sight, as if the tasty smell was too much to resist.

Cally looked sideways at Arthur, her disappointment showing.

'See what I mean ... Ya can't get a bloody break, thought it was too good to be true ... I jinxed it, didn't I? I should've kept my big mouth shut ...'

The big man smiled at her as his hand lifted towards them.

'Well ... Would you like the honours, or shall I?' he asked from his spot on the path, still watching them stumbling nearer.

'I'll let you have the pleasure, I battered the last lot ... Not that I'm counting,' she grinned in reply, her arms crossing as she stood to watch.

Walking away from her, the two long blades slid from his lower back, around and up, ready to dice. Chop, hack, swipe were three movements acted out in a matter of seconds. Those things were slow because it was still early. If they had netted him it would have been slightly different, but approaching in a staggered line? Oh, well, job done.

'Nice, like the swing you have there, very forceful ... Shame about the kid ... What would you say, twelve, maybe thirteen?'

Her sad words were said as she looked down at the disfigured child. Arthur had been kind and chopped him straight in the head, no suffering for the kids, not on his watch anyway.

'Yeah, probably, he looks about Billy's age, doesn't he?' he replied in a sorrowful way, referring to his young son.

So, next, a quick nip into the shop for a few bits, with its boarded up windows and outer shutters missing. Making their way tentatively over, they stayed alert, listening for the drone. Stopping in the doorway, an entrance was checked for availability, the frame pushed for stability.

'Here, we can squeeze through ... Come on ...'

Cally followed behind, Arthur going in first on his knees, but only after his sight had checked through the two story building. Head-torches were taped in place, over woolly hats, and turned on, the beams a line of bright light across the deserted space.

Though it had suffered the usual raid, Arthur saw something not everyone did. Whilst he moved towards the back of the shop, Cally wandered around to the smoking section behind the counter. All that was left was scooped into the messenger bag that hung across her front. Taking smokes, tobacco, pipes, papers, fuel and extra flints, there was little left when she had finished. The lower drawer was then closed, and all left as was.

'Art, where have you gone now ...? Helping yourself to more plonk, again?' she chuckled, walking in his chosen direction.

No reply, as she edged along the mouldy bread shelf, with its blue bloomers and deflated farmhouse seeded batches. Buns were green fur, expanded with stale air, and well passed their sell by date. Stopping in the gloom, her head torch made a sweep. She spoke again, with her eyes flicking from the aisle to the door ahead.

'Art, they have some tinned ham here, you want me to grab you some?'

It wasn't said to him specifically, but said aloud, so anyone would hear. In the time her words had taken to be said, a fist had squeezed the hilt in her sweaty palm several times, mainly so she could feel it there.

'... Is there anybody out there? ... Knock if you can hear me ...'

There was no smile there, not by then. Her lips were pulled tight over her teeth, as she inched her way towards the end of the line. Caution burnt a line of light through her vision, and it startled her, making her step back. Her senses amplified her ability to hear, no voice, no movement, there was no one there. Damn, where was he?

'Best put them in the spare places along from the bed storage ... They'll have a unit each so that should work ... If they need extra bedding, go see Ravi, for food, go see Clare, they can help them out with those things.'

The middle-aged man, with tired eyes, turned and walked away from Smithy, leaving him to beaver away in the lower quarters. In the years they'd been there, Pete had engineered numerous static park homes into one extensive subterranean abode. As the group outgrew the space, another couple were stolen from the holiday camp down the road. These were then buried, along with all the others, the spread going as far as needed, under the Dorset coast.

It was ingeniously linked together, considering, with its recycled and filtered air, hot and cold water, and numerous generators for power throughout. People had their own space, which was essential, and they were comfortably not cramped, plus it was quite cosy and pretty safe down there too. Thinking about it, little else was required.

Toddling towards the living spaces, he ran through the orders of the day in his head. Things needed to be inspected, changed, and made a lot safer. The main doors, up in the barn, for example, he wasn't happy about them, they had to be reinforced somehow.

'... Hey, Billy, your dad not back yet? ... He shouldn't be long ... You look bored, what's up kid?' Pete asked the young lad, sat alone in the book room, which was usually empty at that time of day.

'Yeah, I know, I thought one of these might help, but it doesn't ... I asked him for some more comics, but only if he makes it to the shop for your smokes ... I just hope him and Cal are okay ... I don't like the village, it has that crusty crowd roaming around it, which isn't good, ever ... I know he's safe, he's with her, and she's like a super hero with added knives ... I know she'll take care of him, but what if they're caught somewhere and can't get back? ... Nah, I'm not bored, I'm just a bit worried ...'

Moving towards Billy, Pete took a seat opposite, his hands making a double fist before him.

'Look, you know your Dad has the radio handset and that we have the main base station just up the corridor ... We'll know if they are, they'll soon tell us, won't they? Same way we practiced the other day, remember? They know what they're doing, they know where to go and where not to go ... Most of that section has been cleared already, we did it yesterday, that's why I mentioned that particular shop, because of that fact ... I wouldn't send them somewhere if it felt wrong, Billy, not on their own, and you can believe me on that ...'

It sort of helped, those words of reassurance, but until his dad was stood before him, he would not be satisfied, not really.

'Okay, maybe I'll go and sit with Ravi, he's on radio watch ... Then, if anything does happen, I'll be first to know,' he replied, lifting from his chair and heading for the door. 'I'll see ya later ... Give me a shout if you see him first ... Thanks ...'

'... Billy ...'

'... Yeah ...!'

The young lad smiled as he turned in the doorway, his eyes cast to the man still sat at the table.

'... Ravi has a secret collection of comics stashed in a box under his bed ... If you tell him, in a roundabout way, you needed more reading material, he might cough a few up ... But I didn't tell you that, okay!' the man chuckled, his eyes dropping away as he finished.

The youngster's hand rested on the doorframe as he stopped. His face lit up with that one nice thought of the day, his energy boosted a little.

'Yeah, okay, and thanks for that, I'll drop it into the conversation, see how I do,' Billy smiled, turning for the unit at the end of the walkway.

Pete sat alone, thinking of the two people out there, doing his bidding, one a friend, one a lover. After the last war ended, things had started to get better, then, out of the blue, the world went crazy again, with floods and fire, then that awful disease that changed people into something unthinkable.

If they could all survive two countries clashing, twice, they would survive that out there. Whatever had hit, wherever had done that damage to life and limb, it was beyond understanding. Many things had changed, and not in a good way, a fact everyone alive faced. Hand to mouth, feast or famine, and always looking over a shoulder. Life had no rules, so, jump on board or die in the crush.

Leaving the cliff top, feeling a lot better than before, the wounded young woman wandered the path as far as the first abandoned house. Cutting through its garden, as she usually did, she found herself on the main road of the village. Her new found clothes were no longer the white top and cardigan she had obtained from the seaside shop. They were a different colour, a deep shade of scarlet, the mess drying rigid in the cotton's weave.

Droners appeared from all directions, their aroma curdling the air. They ambled towards her, the horde drifting, with their bodies damaged in ways you wouldn't think possible. Parts of them were missing, raw and open, with extensive scratches and bites, all were torn and broken. Children mingled amongst them, from toddler to teen, as they leaked their gravy-like substance everywhere, their eyes as opaque as their parents.

There was no point in running, there was nowhere to run. They came from everywhere, every corner and every angle, the noise becoming a village choir. Standing her ground, arms by her sides, she closed her eyes and listened to the darkness behind her lids. Getting the tone right in her head, her hum grew from nothing, the note on par with theirs.

When her eyes opened again, she was in the thick of it, a sea of pungent decay, all moving and swaying. Several bumped into her, but they didn't actually look at her. Her barrier had been lifted so they no longer saw her there. She almost laughed out loud, as she sometimes did, but she didn't, she held it inside, behind her half grin and sad eyes, because it wasn't funny really, not when you saw what was to follow.

Waiting until the mass had slowly passed on by, she stood watching. With the last of the trailing few, she could have wept. Staggering and falling, then trying to stand again, trying to keep up, there were some who just couldn't. They went down to never lift again, so they would drag themselves, the sight heart-breaking.

It was always the same ones left to catch up, the youngest and oldest, they were always left behind, as the others droned away. Those, she would do in the back of the head with her long knife, just so it was over for them, especially the littlest children.

Picking up her dropped bag, she walked towards the trees, taking to the shadows. Out of sight, out of mind, stay hidden to stay alive. Suddenly they were the new rules, and with those came other things too. It was good to have drooling rot-bags everywhere sometimes, they made the perfect deterrent. With them groaning through the village it helped keep the real people away from her, and, as recent events had suggested, it was probably a good thing.

That one note, the one from back there, it was lulled into a song, which she then hummed all the way home. It was a nice little tune, one she would try to remember so she could play it on her guitar later. Moving through the meadow, she headed towards the cottage, sat in the far corner of the dead-end lane. Pushing through the side hedge, she stopped.

Something was different, something had changed. What was it?

Beyond the door was another world. Entering, very quietly, Cally looked around her at the tidiness of it. There was no junk piled up, other than supplies, and they sat in an orderly fashion, stacked on shelves. Water in big demijohns stood on the floor, a line of clear liquid, ready for use.

Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, that's when she heard them. Looking up, into the light on the landing, she leant around the lower post and spoke to whoever was there.

'Art ... It's getting late ... It's time we go ...'

The voices died away, their words frozen.

'Art ... Time we go ... It's getting late ... Don't make me come up there ... ART?'

He appeared at the top, not bruised or bashed. Looking down, with a smile on his face, he spoke, his head nodding to his right.

'Cal, you have gotta see this, it's amazing, really, it is,' Arthur chuckled, turning back to the room he had just walked from.

She inched her way up the stairs, her breath held silently within. Okay, he looked happy, but that meant nothing. Cally would look happy if someone was beyond the door with a gun pointed at her head, so being careful made sense, considering.

On the top floor, she moved along the upper area, sat in a pool of soft light. Another clear and bright space gave way to a walkway that housed three separate doors. The voices came from the next one down. It stood open, letting sunlight hit the far wall.

'Cally, in here ... Don't be afraid ... I won't bite you,' chuckled the stranger's voice.

Coming to a standstill, the woman peered into the lovely room. Sat with Arthur was an old man, his face a wrinkled collection of aging skin.

'This is Reg, he's old and blind, bless him, and he's been here all this time, the jammy git ... He managed to survive the lot, two wars and now this,' Arthur laughed, waving her into the room. 'Go on, sit down, he's got a rather interesting tale to tell ... You're gonna love this ... Ere, Reggie, tell her what you just told me,' he continued, his smile never leaving his cheery face.

The new people were finally settled, if still a little jangled by the whole event. Supplies sat in their cupboards, they had clothes, bedding and places to dwell in. It wasn't the home they'd know before, above ground, but it was safe, quiet, and away from what wandered above.

Things were very different after the blazing wall of fire tore across the country. Some were prepared, and made it to their metal clad shelters before the sweep-clean. Most perished or just vanished, it depended on the day. Those not touched by the fiery fury located others, sometimes by accident, sometimes out of sheer will.

Jake, the newly arrived teenager, ambled from his unit, leaving his Mum, Patsy, and his nine year old brother, Sonny, to make beds and stack shelves. They were good at that, but he wasn't, he was all fingers and thumbs, thereby dropping stuff and generally getting in the way.

His journey took him along corridor after corridor, this way and that. On every junction there was a hand drawn map, helping you not to get lost. So, the kids had been kept busy in class it would seem.

Hearing voices, he headed towards them. A man with dark skin, in a turban, sat in a room with a kid about his age. They were playing with something, their ears almost wired to a black box. He stopped in the doorway and watched them. He found it fascinating.

'So,' the man said to the kid next to him, 'when your Dad drops us a reply, we'll hear it through there, like I showed you ... Clever stuff, aye!' he smiled, resting back in his seat.

That's when Jake was seen. The man turned and smiled as he spoke, lifting from his chair. He didn't barge over, keeping back, giving Jake some space.

'Hello, Jake, my name is Ravi ... This here is young Billy ... Welcome to the compound, I was hoping to meet you properly ... It was all a bit rushed, getting you here, and an uncomfortable journey too, so I'm told ... Please, accept my humblest apologises, I hope you and your family didn't suffer too much,' was smiled across the void, his kindness shining through, his hand on his heart as his head bent a quick nod.

'I know you,' Jake grinned, 'you helped save us ... You were with those other men, but you were the one on the hill, the one that stopped them getting to us ... Wow, thank you, sir, I mean Ravi ... That was amazing,' he gushed, remembering the men very well. 'Where did you get your wonderful sword, were you in the Brigades or something?' he enquired excitedly, taking a few paces into the room and looking up at the kind man's face.

'I was in the India Army, my friend,' he smiled, 'and I never leave the compound without it ... It is a part of me, as I am a part of it,' he said with pride, his dark eyes squinting as he spoke.

Billy stood and moved forwards, still checking the new kid out. He watched as they talked, trying to get a feel for him. They waffled on about army stuff, his dad was killed in the Second War, and they just survived the last horrid attack, because they were in their shelter, yarda, yarda, yarda.

'Our problems started from there, I'm afraid ... After we left the town it became unbearable ... Mum and I fended them off the best we could, and we managed to make it thus far ... That's when you jolly lot came across us ...'

Billy decided they weren't from the same class. The way he spoke, that Jake, he wasn't a street kid, not the same as Billy.

'So, what do you do for entertainment around here? Are there books and board games, maybe cards and puzzles? And are there classes to attend or anything like that?' Jake asked the younger boy, trying to be friendly.

'Nah, no school round here, we don't have that anymore ... We have survival training and mapping hour instead, how does that sound? Is that entertaining enough for ya? Or, you can sit with the babies and do puzzles, but most have pieces missing, or the bits aren't the same as the picture on the box ... It's up to you really,' Billy scoffed, walking for the door in search of Pete.

He was about to leave when a voice came over the airwaves, crackly but heard.

'Oscar One, this is Shy Boy ... This is Shy Boy, Oscar One, do you read me? ... Over ...'

Running back across the room, Billy sat at the table, and looked up at Ravi.

'That's Dad ... That's my Dad ... Can I talk to him?' he asked excitedly, as the man moved towards him.

'Go ahead then, remember how I showed you,' Ravi smiled, taking his chair again.

Grabbing the big microphone, Billy spoke into it, trying to not get it wrong.

'Shy Boy, this is Oscar One, please give your location ... Over ...'

'Oscar One, we are currently positioned in the shop on Harvey Street ... We are safe and together, just so you know, son ... Over ...' was chuckled in reply.

'Good to hear, Dad, hope it stays that way ... Do you need assistance? ... Over,' he then asked, hoping his dad didn't.

'No, son, that is a negative, but I do need to speak to Pete rather urgently ... Can you go get him for me, please? ... Over ...'

The young boy looked at Ravi sat beside him, as the new kid wandered over to stand behind him.

'Dad, I'll go now ... Here, talk to Ravi while I find him ... I'll be back in a minute, don't go anywhere, okay!' was barked into the airwaves.

Passing Ravi the handset, he didn't wait for a reply, or care about signing off properly. He had to be gone, searching for the man who had been specifically asked for.

Jake slowly slid into the vacated spot, as the two men bantered, set to set. The crew on the run, they didn't require any backup, their day was nearly done, but they had found something along the way. When Pete was located more would be revealed, but, until then, all that was important was getting home before dark, safe and sound.

Looking down at the ribbon lifting in the breeze, the one attached to her gate, her fingers idly played with it. Someone had been there in the last twenty-four hours. She had seen the ribbons popping up all over the village, lane by lane. There had been voices once, in the distance, but still near enough to make her retreat to the room in the cellar. Down there, behind the shelves, they would never find her, even if they did have the sight through the dark-side, her metal walls a perfect shield against such a gift.

In her isolated box, she could hide from them in the same way they did from her. Okay, from a distance she did look the same as every other normal person. Inside she wasn't the same, which turned her into an instant target, one that didn't want its head obliterated in any way. If hiding was the answer, so be it.

Life, or whatever it was, had to resume, had to be constant, had to have meaning and reason. Who was she again? She couldn't quite remember. It was probably from the shock of being shot. After all, it's surprising how that can affect you, a hole through your body. It was put down to that as she headed towards her back door, which was ajar, tapping in the wind.

Intruders were never a good thing, whether alive or nearly dead. Either way, it posed a nasty problem, and those kinds of problems rarely had a happy ending. Pushing it slowly open, she entered at a crouch, head kept low, just in case of projectiles. Hunching her way towards the kitchen door, her long blade was already available, waiting on its call. Coming to a halt, she held her breath to listen, looking through the gloom.

There was nothing and no one. Whoever had been there had left. No mess, no turning over of stuff, a little tidier in fact, which was better than could be said of some. Once, when there was a troop of families wander through, they took almost everything, nearly cleared her clean, and not even a thank you from the miserable toads.

Checking the first kitchen cupboard she came too, there was nothing missing, not a tin or packet. Looking in the top drawer, under the draining board, her clever and knife collection were gone. Her mind wandered for a moment, whirring away.

Why that colour ribbon on her gate? Blue and yellow had also been seen, as if they were a code for something. Red ribbon could mean supplies on offer, there for when needed, stored for the winter months to come maybe? Time it was all taken below then, leaving just the barest of essentials at hand.

Downstairs, in her space behind the wall, she had access to eight large areas. It was installed by her American Grandfather, who often had bright ideas, and that was one of them. Originally built to keep them safe in the bomb dropping days, it served an added purpose of keeping her alive, another lifetime later.

Constructed from a ten inch thick concrete shell, reinforced with armoured steel plate, it would survive any attack, and it did. Sadly, no one was saved to be in it, her entire family lost. It took her weeks to walk there, and the whole journey was done in hope her family had congregated there. Trying not to think of her younger brother, she turned away. He was only twelve, a lanky kid, and not much of a fast runner.

That was the day she decided she didn't want to be around people anymore, and that was the day everything changed. From there, her journey took her through a world that was rotting in the streets. When the fires died away a new fear tracked the shadows. People vanished before wide open eyes, the darkness carrying away the ones that brought pain and suffering.

Heading up the coast, she lived in hope there might be some comfort found in the cottage by the cliffs. On a dead-end lane, there was no through traffic, so no one needed to venture that far, unless you were scouting for supplies. There was a little shop, along the alleyway, but what was there wasn't a worry.

So, down it went, all of it, into the space below, and onto shelves. Then her clothes, guitar, and her various forms of footwear, then lastly, her photos and trinkets, those she treasured most. The big lounge area had a high ceiling and was well below ground. There was a twisting case to reach it, but the bonus couldn't be ignored.

Mum had told the story about all the latest technology and space gadgets that had been incorporated throughout the project. State of the art was one of her Nan's favourite sayings, all mod cons was the other. Shame the Uncle never lived to see it finished.

An escape hatch was through another door at the end of the corridor, beyond the bathroom. That led up and through a hatch into the shed, pretending to be a shelf under a potting bench. There were no windows. Instead, frames sat on the wall, set at spaced points around the room, with large prints of the local view mounted behind them. With the crossbar and curtains in place, it gave a nice feel. Lights were fitted into the pelmets holding the rails, the glow changing along with the time of day.

Being down there wasn't so bad, but what about her rabbits? She couldn't leave them out there if she was going below.

'Oh, bugger ... The rabbits ...'

Saying it aloud, so she heard it properly, she raced from the shelter and back up the spiral steps. Almost tripping over the top one, she flew through the cellar, and up again, heading for the end of the garden. Turning the corner, which led to the greenhouses, she looked over at the pens in the sunshine on the lawn.

She could have cried. Her four does and her two bucks were gone, and so were all twenty of her little energy packs.

They sat in silence, as Cally looked at the old boy, her face ashen. Yes, that was quite some story, and she did find most of it hard to believe. There were parts that had been rather graphic, and the image would settle there a little while. The things seen and heard by the gentlemen before them, they were on par with everyone else. Living and surviving, a hard task in an evil world, but it had to be done, even if you were blind.

For him, Reg, surviving was sheer fluke in his eyes, which was funny coming from him. One thing sat in his favour. The old boy was already used to the numbed darkness and the shifting shadows. Moving through the gloom wasn't a problem for Reg. He'd been doing it for years.

The radio conversation was heard and responded to, Pete and the others were also been privy to the old man's tale. Amazed faces had looked from one to the other, their ears not able to comprehend the words he'd chosen to use.

Taking over the radio, Cally explained their findings. Found in a secluded garden, they were sat, waiting, with no one home. Currently in the back of the lorry, they were safe and sound, all boxed up, ready to roll, and separated as seen. To have some form of fresh meat, at last, and not that dire tinned muck for a change. If someone stewed it, then she'd eat it. It sounded good to her.

'So, Reg ... Would you care to join us, back here, at the compound? You're more than welcome ... Over ...' Pete finally asked, his voice breaking up but still audible.

Once they started, up she lifted, to move away and wander the rooms. Heading for the one at the back of the property, she made her way along the landing. Pushing the door open, she walked to the window. A stunning view greeted her, out over the cliffs, off, towards a pale blue horizon. The sun was being kind, the temperature finally reaching double figures for a change.

Lazy eyes travelled the coastline, seen from on high, down over the smaller cottages and towards the meadows in the distance. White birds circled and braved the strong wind, suspending them up on their invisible stream. Transparent clouds amble through, casting a soft shadow over the land below, before fading, way over the sea.

The sun was at its zenith, gracing the endless sky with its wonderfully warm presence. There should be little to no shadows. Looking towards the edge of the woods, were the opening headed for the cliff path, a shadow was seen, one that was moving. She nearly shouted, but didn't. Cally wanted to watch, and that's exactly what she did.

It came no further, but hovered there, hid within the gloom. Cleaning the pane of glass with her gloved fist, she held up her binoculars to get a better look. Her eyes fixed back on that one point, as she held her breath to focus, her need to see better growing by the second.

It looked as though it could have been a person, but it didn't quite hit that description. There was something about the movements behind the bramble bushes. The prickly barrier ran a thick line into the trees. From top to bottom, with an opening for the field, it gave plenty of cover for a watcher.

Had she already been seen then? The way they held their position, that would seem to be the case. Halting behind a trunk would suggest it wasn't a moaner either, in the way it was moving deliberately. Trying to get a better view, she dug the scope from her backpack and used that instead. Cally was almost there, but not quite.

'... Boo ...'

Nearly having a heart attack, she spun with a paled gasp, all colour gone from her face.

'Jesus, don't do that to me, man ... You nearly did damage to my clean underwear ...'

'Ooh, sorry ... Were you lost, out there, watching something in the woods? Was it a moaner?' Arthur chuckled, as he walked over to join her, stood, looking east.

'Yes, I was, and, no, it wasn't ... So, next time, warn me, please ... And, boo! ... You child,' she smiled, turning back to the view.

'So ... See something then?' he tried again, his face a big grin.

'Urh ... I thought I did,' Cally replied, putting the scope up to her eye, so as to cast her gaze back to the big tree down near the fallen oak.

'... And ...' he quipped, trying to see what she was trying to see. '... Anything ...?'

'Art, can ya do me a favour? ... Tell me, does you second-sight thingy reach as far as those trees over there? If it does ... Give it a quick sweep, please, and tell me what you see, if anything ...'

So he did as was asked, and he stood and looked, his breathing at a slow pace, his orbs flicking around in the gloom behind his lids.

'Nah, nothing out there, not that I can see anyway, if there was, it's gone now ... I just made it to the treeline before the light broke through and blinded me ... That's as far as I go and no further, from the looks of it ... If it was what I think it might be, then something's going on, and it's probably big, and it's probably coming our way soon ...'

Arthur fell silent, as his eyes came round to rest on the woman beside him, his face as grey as a day of rain.

'So, not good news then, I take it ... Great, just what we bloody need ... Another sodding catastrophe ... Like we haven't had enough of them already,' she almost whined, but didn't, because she had to keep it together, and didn't want to sound like his teenage son.

'Cally, keep calm, breathe, in through the nose, out through the mouth ... It'll be okay, I promise ... If they're hanging around us, we have nothing to fear, well, usually not, but they do sometimes come with doom, this is true ... But I sense we're not the problem, they just want to know where we are for some reason, that's all ... Funny, I've had an odd feeling recently, like we're in someone's thoughts ... Strange, that ...'

'Yes you are, very,' Cally smiled back, returning them to the plan. 'Now, what's happening with old Reg? Is he joining us and, if so, are the others coming for him in the comfy car?'

Whilst trying to leave what she didn't understand, out there, somewhere, playing in the woods, or in Arthur's vivid imagination, another voice came from behind, to startle both of them into turning together.

'... No, I'm not, and I got me own car, thanks ... Besides, I'm staying here because you can't make me leave ... I know my rights as a squatter, and I'll stand by them to the end, I will,' was mumbled into the room, as the aged body slowly shuffled in behind it.

Reg stopped in the door and faced, not looked, at the ones within. There was no way he was leaving. Things had to be as they were, to stay safe. For him, it was the only way to be sure.

Moving away from the window, Arthur approached the elderly man and spoke softly. His manner seemed sad, as though he were leaving an old friend behind.

'Are you sure about this, Reg, you don't have to stay here, pal, you can come along? You'll want for nothing back at base, and the group aren't a bad bunch ... They'll see you right, if ya pardon the pun,' he smiled, though he knew the old boy would never witness it, but hoped it might be heard instead.

'Maybe another time, when I've broken my hip in a fall and I'm dying ... I'll move in then, but for now, it suits me just right, being here, alone, but thanks for asking ...'

He paused a moment to think quickly.

'Oh, that's the other thing, if you were looking for more plonk ... There's a few crates of bottled something in that front bedroom, next to the soapbox ... If it's beer, take it before it goes out of date, I don't drink the stuff, never have ... I prefer a harder tot, thanks, whiskey mainly, and I've enough to last me out, sat down there,' he chuckled, his face amused, even if no one else's was.

Hauling the stock out the back door, and into the small garden area, they collected everything together into one place. The items going back had to be stacked around the boxed rabbits, thereby wedging them amongst the other supplies for a more comfortable ride to their future home.

Cally and Arthur returned for the lorry, together, then drove back to load up before saying their farewells. Reg stayed in the upper rooms he knew so well, not eager to stray from that which he was so used to. Within the spaces he occupied, little else was required for an old man. Harmless, blighted by his affliction, and barricaded in, with his safe-room in the attic, he was where he needed to be. Add to that his numerous health issues, and he was nearly at the end of the road anyway, of that he was aware.

So, they left him to his peace and quiet, hiding behind his doors of steel, hoping for a brighter tomorrow, and no broken hips. Driving away, they saluted their exit with a waved hand out the window, as the sun just started to drop towards the west. From the south, a warm breeze lifted the salty air, calming the heat of the day, and, as Reg waved back in no particular direction, there was a mild chance he was being watched from the shadows that lingered in the street below.

Standing in the half light, as the sun dropped towards the distant ridge of hills to the west, grey eyes watched at the lorry sped away, its fumes a trail behind it. Above her, and waving from a window, was the old, blind man, his face half cast in faint shade.

Taking a smoke from her coat pocket, she lit it, sucking it in to savour the taste. Wondering if it would leak from the hole at the front, she glanced down, waiting for a curl of smoke to appear as she inhaled. It didn't, what a relief, try explaining that to a stranger.

Setting more meat cages wouldn't be a problem, it was just another task already accomplished once that year. In the top meadow was the best place, there were only two places she set them down, and they were never meant to harm. Her rabbits were taken home alive, to be bred. In that way she was never without raw food. The fact that it had to be alive when eaten had nothing to do with it.

Tomorrow she would do that, after sorting her other issues out. Finding another place was a priority. If the lorry driver and his female friend had been there enough times to attach ribbons to gates, then they'd be back soon, maybe even the next day, and with others, to finish what they had already started.

The light was soft across the sky, a pale orange resting over the hills heading west. She watched the clouds from the corner that led down Tussock Lane, then round the road that took you back to the High Street. Such pretty houses lined the quiet space. Maybe one of those would make a refreshing change. Could she rebuild though, with the knowledge they might find her yet again?

There was one thing she had noticed and noted. The blue ribbons which sat on random posts. These were never returned to, avoided almost, as if they were a no flight zone or something. What made them so special?

Five more hours of light, if that, then the next phase would roll into being. Those that thought daytime was miserable clearly hadn't had to struggle through a horribly long, and also sometimes lethal, night outdoors. Camp fires attracted the moaning masses, so being outside was never a good idea because of that, but she had seen what sulked in the shadows, and they were just as good at taking as the fires had been.

The moaners were one thing, but the shadows were something not often lived through to repeat the tale. Legend told tales of those who could, those who carried the one true light. Her Dad had told her all about it when she was still a little tot. It was a silly story really, something to lull her into the land of nod, a fable built upon what was never truly known.

They were The Keepers of the Full Moon, that's what he'd called them, which was rather a coincidence, because there had been a big one hanging high, its sphere seen throughout the day. To her, as a kid, with an imagination that vast, it was a good over bad, a right over wrong, story. One full of heroes and baddies, a fight to the death, and one were the one true light always won, because they took courage and faced the rising demons.

Coming to a stop before a blue ribbon gate, she looked down at it, pinned in place. What if she simply swapped her red for that, would they even notice? Remembering the map one of them carried, the colours would match to those across the grid. It wouldn't take long to work it out, not if they were already marked in ink.

Walking the driveway at the side, she passed round and down towards the front door. Closing her eyes, she scanted through the gloom, her eyes checking for a shadow, a form, a movement. There was nothing, not a glow or a glint, zilch.

Kneeling before it, she pushed the letter flap open with her gloved hand. Thinking to take a quick peak, upon doing so, she wished she hadn't. There was one reason and one reason only for that ribbon to be there. Seeing as it was blue, that was probably the best colour to choose.

It was enough to nearly topple her backwards and away from the retching smell. With her hand to her lower face, she recoiled to one side, well aware of its meaning. They were empty, but not, and in whatever stage of decomposition they were, she didn't need to confirm it by seeing it, and moving in with it just wasn't going to happen.

Returning to the road, she turned for the gate with a yellow ribbon. So, what did that mean?

Opening the gate quietly, she moved towards the door to the front of the house. Another good sniff would be the first test. After that, if all seemed fine, and her dark-side showed no issues, she would find a way in, one way or another. No, clear, and clear, nothing by sight or smell, and all was silent too, nothing amiss from outside, maybe inside would tell her more.

Never entering via the front, she headed around to the back garden, took a turn right, then passed through a tall gate. Looking at the ground floor access she wasn't very impressed. One door, one window and that was it, how lame? Both had funny chain-link over them, top to bottom, side to side, the same as the shop front once did. Was it a cage to keep her out, or was it to keep someone, or something, in? That led to the next asked aloud question, spoken softly into the evening light.

'Do I really want to know, and is it really worth the effort?'

Well, curiosity might have killed that little kitten, but she was made of tougher stuff than that. There was a gate, not twenty feet away, by which she could leave. She didn't have to waste precious energy foraging through places that held no interest until the ribbons arrived. Yellow ones, what did they mean? Was she brave enough to find out even? Her dad used to tell her to face her fears, the same way the one true light did. Have courage, fight the good fight, and go with your gut instinct, but, at the same time, know your limits.

Pretty pale eyes cast up and over the rear of the building, checking for other points of entry. There it was, maybe a bathroom window, with that frosted glass. If she could reach that, and gain access, her question would finally be answered. Seeing the garage behind her, the wooden ladder was along one side, and only just visible for all the weeds climbing it.

It was dragged from the undergrowth and over onto the path. With it raised to its required length, it was propped, and then walked up the wall, to just below the exterior sill. Two bricks were wedged either side, to stop it from travelling with her half way up it, before she prepared to make her ascent.

Checking the tool belt at her waist, which held all things useful, she slowly made her way up, rung by bouncy rung. Once where she needed to be, she went to work on the frame, gouging the wood away in large slithers. Taking it right through to the lock with a sharp chisel, it only needed her long screwdriver and a hard shove to snap the catch free. Flicking the arm over the pin, with the help of a long bar, it was tugged away, in and done.

Still no bad smell, still the silence that came with abandonment. Climbing in, her feet gently rested onto the vinyl flooring, printed in the style of mottled terracotta tiles. Moving silently for the door, she stopped at the opening, checking each way before proceeding. There was no odd sensation, no tingle down the spine, not a twitch or a tweak.

The bedrooms where checked, all three, and no one was there. Wardrobes next, but they were almost empty. An attic door, through it and up, to face, more and lots of nothing, just more junk and empty boxes, exactly the same as her place. So down to the ground floor, what was awaiting her there, more nothing?

It had a large, open plan, lounge, with a big open fire, and huge windows that let the light flood in. A very tasteful six seater table and chairs graced one end, where the kitchen hatch was positioned in the wall, along with a matching display case and sideboard. The other end sported two fine brown sofas and a mahogany coffee table. It had glass dropped into the top and a shelf below, holding scattered women's magazines, and an Aztec rug beneath it, which she also quite liked.

There was a vast expanse of garden at the back, home to an old swing and slide, which clearly hadn't been used in years. It had the added bonus of a pretty seating area, nestled below a rather fetching trellis. It was matted with wild yellow roses in bloom, the effect quite stunning.

But why the yellow ribbon? There wasn't anything wrong with it, the place was perfect, cleanable, tidy, not damaged, and it didn't smell or have anything lurking in the cupboards. It was ready to move into, so what was wrong with it?

Standing by the French doors, thinking that thought, her eyes drifted to her right, and the one place she hadn't nosed around so far. Slowly traipsing over, she pushed her way through to the hallway, her eyes scanning as she went. Turning to her left, she was faced with two new doors, one in front and one on the right.

'Choices, choices, which one do I pick first? ... Okay ... Eeny ... Meeny ... Miny ... Moe ... Through which door, should, I, go ...'

The one in front, dead ahead, do not pass go, and do not go to jail. Before entering she thought about it again, the ribbon, like the roses, but why yellow?

Cupboards, both big and small, with a sink under the window, a black range, a redundant smelly fridge, and a walk-in larder, again, just the same as her place. Almost identical, except for a different colour on the units, walls and floor, but apart from that, the two rooms could nearly have been twins.

Not many supplies to be found, but the cold water pump in the pantry was a nice find, which suggested it was tapped into its own well. As she ambled around the room she tried to think of anything else, was it just that then, the fresh water? It was worth having it on a check list somewhere, just for future reference. It would certainly come in handy in the event of their supply drying up.

Leaving that room behind, she wandered into the hall, and to the last place yet to be explored, the cupboard under the stairs. As she pulled the small door open, it wasn't quite what she'd envisaged. She was expecting a hoover, cleaning gear, maybe some muddy gumboots resting on newspaper, and a sack of coal with some kindling.

Staring in, she was more than startled to see a set of steep steps. They led down, just like her's did, to vanish into the dark. Her senses were suddenly flooded with a new sensation, as though a force pushed her back, a hand against her chest. In the shadows the scariest things lingered, and when faced with a drop such as that, sometimes it was best to leave it alone.

Retreating, the door was closed before she retraced her steps, to exit the way she came in, pushing the window up tight behind her. Once down, the ladder was laid to rest in its rightful spot, the bricks tossed aside, back into their pile.

It stayed with her, that cold feeling, all the way back through the gate, and all the way back onto the road. Standing, to look at the property behind, there was a flash of something through her mind, as if a forced memory on repeat. Possibly from a week prior maybe, she couldn't be sure, as her recent injury had caused all sorts of nasty side effects and internal issues. She'd recently found she couldn't stomach her cherished hot malty drink before bed, and that had really upset her.

Turning her attention to the other end of the road, her eyes lifted in the late light, to focus on the window in the distance. Walking towards the place in sight, she crossed back over to stand where she had stood before. All was quiet in the lane, and all was quiet in the village. The droners were somewhere, off doing their droner thing, so it left the pretty evening all to her, with its warm breeze and pleasant aromas.

With one last long inhale of the fine night air, she crossed the street towards the shop. She was tired and hungry, and some rotten sods had stolen all her rabbits.

Twenty minutes and they were home, it was the getting there which wasn't always a nice experience. Though they'd cleared most of the roads along their most favoured of routes, there was still the debris to be faced, and the carnage to be recalled. Some cars still held the forms of devoured people. They were left to sit in their metal coffin, facing an eternity of backed up traffic. Silence blared from each and every one, turned right up, for all to hear, when passed at the normal speed of get us the hell out of here.

Heading through Bridport the usual was witnessed. The diseased staggered and bumbled into each other and across the street, that noise a reminder of what those things had become. Were they dead or alive? Really, no one knew, because no one was prepared to get that close just to find out. Staying away was a priority when maintaining and healthy lifestyle. Besides, hitting them head on, as they slowly turned to the sound of the engine, was far more entertaining. If you caught them at the perfect angle, you could bounce them into the air, so as to come bowling down, crashing into a small group of them. This would then raise a few loud laughs as they shouted wipe out.

Turn right, at the West Bay roundabout, and homeward bound, not far now, nearly there. Once on the coast road it was different, the tarmac from east to west a lovely straight line.

Hitting home turf was always a welcome sight. At the double gates, a moment was taken to check the surrounding area, nothing there, great, out and open, through and closed. This led them down a flint-topped track, through another open gate, which they then closed behind them. This took them round to the large barn sized outbuilding at the rear of Manor House.

As the lorry approached, the metal door slid open as if by magic, and, as they rolled to a halt, it was slid shut again in timed precision. The lorry was left to those who were waiting, Cally giving orders about the new stock, the boxes included, and no petting or naming, they were solely for the pot.

'Dad ... Dad ... You're back ...'

Billy ran up the stairs, into the barn, charging for his father. Almost leaping at him, the big man caught his son in a turning hug as if the boy were still a sprout.

'And why's there brown mush all over the front of the lorry, was there a problem?' the worried boy asked, his features changing as he saw it wedged in the grill.

'Yeah, yeah, I'm back ... And we found a patch of moaners, nothing we couldn't deal with in that thing ... There's a surprise in those boxes over there too, so we'll be eating well tonight, lad,' he grinned, putting his son down to open his rucksack. 'Hey, look, I picked these up in the shop ... You said you wanted some new ones if I saw any, so, I hope they're what you want ...'

Several comics were tugged from a pocket and handed over, the surprise nearly as amazing as getting his sole parent back in one piece. Billy took them, his face alight.

'Wow, thanks, Dad, yeah, they're brilliant, and ones I ain't read yet, even better,' he grinned, quickly flicking from cover to cover. 'And what's in the boxes then, more tinned meat, only a different colour this time?' he teased, looking up at Arthur.

'Nah, not tinned, ya cheeky chimp, on the hoof ... There's enough in those boxes to keep us going for a while, if not permanently ... We are facing the start of something amazing, and it tastes good too ... Just one tiny problem though,' his dad winced, with a pained look on his face.

'What's that?' Billy asked, his eyes shifting round in the direction of the noise behind them, which also came from those boxes.

'First we've gotta give them the chop, and then clean them out, just like we do the fish we catch ... Which you won't want to see, so go below, like the good lad I know you are ... And before you say anything more ... It's rabbit and, no, you can't keep one, and that's final, sorry ...'

Arthur had spoken, and Billy had heard. Taking his new comics, he went below and sulked in the book room, pretending to read, as the block was made ready in the space above.

That smell, he'd had a whiff of that on several occasions. Mostly when he'd been down in the garden, but was it a flower he recognised? It was nice, but in an off, almost sickly-sweet way, and with a twang at the back of it. It wasn't vile, but familiar, and sometimes it hovered where he least expected to find it.

Reg didn't go far, he had his stick but without his old dog, Smudge, it wasn't as much fun. With that dippy hound he used to go all over the place, on the train, the bus, tottering about, doing his shopping and meeting pals. He lost his partial sight as a kid, from some horrible illness, and though it wasn't always total darkness it was bad enough.

There it was again, the aroma on the air, carried in the afternoon light. He was sat in his comfy chair in the lounge, the one next to the wireless that didn't work anymore. The atmosphere told him he wasn't alone, as he sat with the sun on his face.

'Come in, if you're coming in, I hate it when people hover ... You are people, aren't you?' Reg gently asked the presence on the threshold. 'You don't have to be afraid of me, I'm can't hurt you ... Besides, I'd have to find you first ...'

The change in current told all his nerve endings someone was there. Holding his breath, he listened, his hearing not bad for an old boy.

'I've felt you there before, watching me ... You always carry the same scent of the breeze, but you never speak ... You must be very sad,' he smiled, already knowing the answer. 'Tongue-tied, the same as my grandson, Charlie, was ... Not with us now, God rest him, but he was a good boy ...'

The old man stopped talking, the memories too painful to linger on.

'Well, that was all a long time ago now ... No point in hanging on what can't be undone ... That's the thing about life, you can never go back ...'

There was movement behind him, a cold shadow taking the lowlight from the window, it circled him and rested over by the wall unit. Whoever it was held back, looking around the room.

'Sorry, they've all gone ... The rabbits ... If that's what you're after ... They came at dawn and got the lot ... I was gonna go too, but I'm comfy here, and learning somewhere new at my age, and like this ... Nah, forget it, I wouldn't be able to cope, so I stayed ... Mind you, those nice folk did say they'd pop round and check on me from time to time, just to make sure I'm okay, which I thought was rather nice, myself ... You can't be too careful these days ... Not since the place went boom ...'

There was a quiet giggle heard in the background. It was a girl, and a youngster by the sounds of it, and she found that funny. A sense of humour too then, that was good.

'I lost all my family in the sweep-clean ... So, you're not really alone ... And, sometimes, you have to let someone in, if only for a little while ... It's a way of remembering where we came from ... We can't forget our past, but we can learn from it, it's the least we can do,' he smiled at no one it would seem.

'Why don't you ever speak? I've often wondered that ... Even in the garden, when you watch me out there, you never say a word ... Not ever ...'

More silence, but for the breathing and a steady pulse beating through an inner ear.

'They were my dinner, old man ... Now I'll have to catch more,' was almost a whisper from the corner near the door.

'You caught all them?' Reg was impressed. 'Wow, there were loads of them ... They filled the back of the lorry, so I was told ... I didn't know they belonged to anyone ... I'm so sorry ...'

'That's a lie, how did you know they were there?' she snapped, her tone cold and wiry. 'Why pen them if there's no owner? And yes, I caught the eldest six first, the rest came from them ... But all the same, I'll have to leave after this ... If they come back and find me there, they'll kill me ...'

'I'm so sorry ... Please, I didn't know it was where you were hiding ... And I was told about the pens, the two from the compound, the man and woman, they found them when they were clearing that end of the village ... You probably have a ribbon on your gate too ...'

'Yes, I'd notice that ... What is red for, can you tell me?' she enquired, her voice still low.

'Red means food they can come back for later ... That aura around you, it makes you dangerous, and it makes you different ... You should leave ... You're right, if they find you, they'll kill you,' Reg egged, trying to keep his tone calm. 'The cottage, what's your connection?'

So, she was right about the reason for red, it was supplies. Looking around the room there was not much to see, no photos or trinkets, just items required to survive.

'In the family ... It was a special place once, I was safe there until today ... That's all changed now, so I'll have to find somewhere else, somewhere further out ... Where's this compound located you said about, is it far?' the girl then asked, watching the changing light through the far window.

'It's out along the coast road towards Weymouth, over from West Bexington ... They have units underground, a vast collection of them, all linked together ... Safe they said, hot and cold running water too, which can't be bad ... Even I ain't got that,' Reg chuckled, his face turned to the glow before him, the one she seemed to produce.

The whole time they spoke that brightness was there, almost blinding him, and the girl never questioned how he always knew where she was sat. More silence for a moment or two, but it didn't last.

'I have an idea,' the girl softly said, 'and I don't know if you're up for it, but if you say yes, I won't have to go anywhere ... You wanna hear it?' she quietly smiled, looking from the old man back to the window.

He smiled right back at her, as though his dead eyes saw her's bloom into life. It must have been the expression in her voice when she said it.

'Yep, okay, come on then, let's hear it, but hurry up ... I can't wait all day, I need the loo, and when I gotta go, I gotta go,' he chuckled, almost seeing the pretty young face before him.

One of the new arrivals, Ed, was of great interest to Pete. Not only was he the new bloke on the block, he was also an ex-military man. Having experienced Egypt and France first hand, his knowledge was a valuable asset to have on board, and one that might help them in their current situation.

In a unit, off from the main living quarters, was a private space where all things regarding war were housed. Pete located Ed, once they had finally settled in, and they went to that unit because it was of interest to those who knew it was there. Various maps and charts sat, scrolled together, on shelves to one side, the collection a fine thing to see. On the far wall hung a display of the local, and surrounding areas, some of which were marked in different coloured pens.

'The houses lined with green have already been checked and cleared ... The red shaded houses hold supplies to be collected when needed, the blue are were dead bodies of any kind reside, and the yellow is for ...'

He was cut off in midsentence by Ravi.

'Pete, we have a problem ... And we might need you too, Ed, if you don't mind tagging along, please ...'

He looked worried, something Pete hadn't seen for a while. Both Ed and he turned, to see the tall figure taking up the doorway, his features in turmoil. Moving away from the two men, he walked in the direction of the gathering room.

'What is it, has there been a breech?' Pete hurriedly asked, on the heels of his friend.

'No ... Something much worse than that, my friend ... Come and you will see ...'

Storming off down the corridor, Pete and Ed had a job to keep up as Ravi's legs moved at such a hyper pace.

'... Whoa, what's the rush? Has someone died or something?' Pete rasped with Ed in tow, almost at a trot.

'No one has, not yet, my friend ... But someone might if we don't do something about this,' Ravi insisted over his shoulder, turning the last corner. '... Look ...' he grinned, flicking the light switch on the wall, up and down, several times.

Nothing happened. One whole section of the west end was in total darkness, and that was never a good sign. If water had somehow worked its way into the electrics they'd be there for weeks trying to find it. The ceilings would have to come down, section by section, the repair made, then everything reattached, back to how it was. Sounds easy, but it wasn't, it was painstaking and laborious, start one end and work your way through. What a way to spend the night, trying to sort that little lot out.

Pete's big sigh was so audible both Ravi and Ed looked at him. His face seemed very unimpressed with what sat before him. A long, dark corridor, with added blacked out rooms beyond, were always an issue with the women and children. Along there was the communal kitchen, which was never closed, then the gathering room, where most came to spend an evening with a drink and catch up on the day, then after that, the games room, which was frequented mostly by the youngsters, every night of the week.

The three main living areas, used every day by most, and about to be required for the evening, were sat in darkness. How's that for timing?

'Just as well everyone has their own unit, this is gonna take bleeding weeks to mend, that's not including the rip down and refurb ... Oh, well, they'll not be using these tonight, boys ... The kitchen and bar are closed, until further notice,' Pete chuckled, glancing around at the men each side of him. 'That'll make a change for them, won't it? Sitting at home with each other, talking, how will they all cope?'

'You wanna come round to mine, both of you? You're more than welcome, and we got plenty to go around, and there's rabbit stew, if you're interested, freshly lopped today, so I'm told ... It's not far, we've just moved in, nice view, and has plenty of space,' Ed grinned. 'That's if you don't have other plans, of course,' he finished, looking from Pete to Ravi and then back to Pete again.

'Yes, thank you, Ed,' Ravi gushed, 'that sounds a wonderful idea ... I would very much enjoy joining you, plus your delightful family, for dinner this evening ... It would be a pleasure ... And, Pete, will you be attending too, or will you be working?'

In was said in a tone that made Pete check Ravi's expression. There was a funny little smile there, one that resembled a hidden chuckle.

'I think I will join you in a bit, actually ... First, I want to have a check through those rooms, start at the end and work my way back, see what I find, and if any ceilings are down already ...'

Pulling a small torch from his belt, Pete tapped it to make it work, before turning away from Ravi and Ed.

'Do you need us to follow, in case anything happens? Don't forget your frequently said saying ... No dark place alone, not even when at home ... Tell me you haven't forgotten, when it was you who thought it up?' the handsome foreigner smiled, with a line of perfectly white teeth.

Pete turned with his torch in hand. It was lifted slightly to see him on his way. He was going to say something but Ravi carried on talking instead.

'... Well, I just thought you should practice that which you are so quick to preach, my friend, your rules are your code ... So, I ask you, are they, or are they not, to be upheld? Tell me now, for I will retire for my dinner if not ...'

Ravi had him, Pete couldn't deny it.

'Okay, but don't get in the way, just in case the roof does come down ... We should hear it first, but you never know, it depends where the real damage is, and how extensive it turns out to be,' Pete replied, with a smile for his cheeky pal, and using his own words against him, the nerve of it.

'Are you following along, Ed, just as an extra pair of hands, should we need them?' Ravi then enquired, whilst looking back at the big man stood watching him.

Without Pete witnessing it, his dark haired head nodded sideways, in the direction Pete had headed, his actions seeming urgent. With his smile still in place, his eyes indicated the path before them, leading into the gloom. Mouthing something at him, which Ed didn't quite make out, Ravi turned away, walking after Pete.

The end door to the games room was open, so it was swept round with the torches beam, top to bottom, side to side. Nothing amiss and no one sat, hiding, waiting for the lights to glow again. Once cleared, the door was pulled closed, because he wasn't born in a barn, and the next one moved onto.

A place to grab a break, catch up with gossip, or just read an aged paper, already browsed a hundred times. Sandwiched between the room of food and the room of play, the room of adult togetherness had its door pulled shut, as requested by the sign. So, okay, the adults could all read, it was the kids who clearly couldn't.

That's when it happened, the sudden noise in the dark. It was a crack, or snap, and it was loud and near. The three of them spun on the spot, to look towards the darkest end, their shocked faces all with the same wide eyes. No one was grinning anymore.

'Okay ... That's all wrong ... We know that room's clear, we just cleared it ... So, what the hell was that?' Ed quietly whimpered, with his voice almost on the verge of breaking.

No one dared move a muscle, the tension in the air enough to ignite it any second. Muscles pulled rigid, on the edge of flight, only standing their ground because of the old safety in numbers saying. Caught in that space, right there, a different level of togetherness was found, a brotherhood almost, as if bonding before a battle.

Another thud, but nearer, just beyond the door beside them, and it was loud enough to jump their inner beans. Maybe a mere eight feet away, if that, there was not much of a barrier between them and it. If they hadn't been so manly, they would have screamed in the same way the young girls did, when clapping eyes on their singing heartthrobs.

'My friend,' Ravi quietly injected into their silence, 'should we not rush it, all at once, with the art of surprise on our side ... There may be only one against us, and we do have the strength of three.'

'Okay, but there could also be many of them against just us, had you thought about that?' Pete whispered, looking to the man on his left.

'Yes, but their moaning has not reached us yet, so we can hope it is not bad news beyond that door ... Here, I'll take the torch so you are free to swing ... Just beware, it may be a child, so, please, refrain from lashing out ... If anything nasty rushes you, I will kill it, trust me on that, my friend,' Ravi then smiled, holding his hand out for the torch, as he slowly drew part of his sword.

Passing it over, Pete took that final step nearer. Though the noise had stopped, it wasn't making it any easier. Lifting his hand, it came to rest on the 1930's door knob, the cold brass quite a shock to his warm palm.

With the two men close behind, Pete's shoulder was placed against the wood, his hand ready to break the seal. Once it was open there was no going back, and what they were about to face could be the ending of them all.

'... Okay ... Here's goes nothing,' he smiled, as that knob twisted, so the latch snapped open, and the door swung back.

Getting him to the cottage was the hardest part, not that there were any droners about, but they both feared the coming of the shadows. Darkness carried a new enemy, one that was not faced or fought. It was avoided and hidden from, in a safe house with no dark corners, below or above, and it was never taken lightly, because of what it held within its gloomy shroud.

An abandoned wheelbarrow, left at the side of the road, was just the ticket. Lining it with soft cushions, he was loaded up and trundled back, in short stints, to the girl's cottage. Once dumped on the couch, she quickly returned for the personal items he had so kindly asked for, which were also part of the deal.

With Reg living with her, if the compound lot should return, there was every reason for everything to stay put. If it did work to plan, she could take shelter below while he got shot of them. Together, as a team, it might work out nicely, and what trouble could an old chap, his age, really cause anyway? He was harmless, not an issue, and eaten if he became a pain.

'There is a bedroom, through there ... You can have that ... How you relieve yourself is up to you. I tend to go beyond this garden, but you will find that hard ... A raised commode is pushed into the corner, maybe that would suit ... Are you hungry, old man?'

The words were said as the girl moved around the room. The fire was lit, the warmth filling the cosy space throughout. Circling towards the door to one side, she stood by it, and looked over at the old chap, lost in thought, far away.

'Young lady, my name is Reg ... Please, would you kindly use it and tell me yours, seeing as we are, now, sharing a house? ... And, yes, I am, thanks, so reckon I could fit something in.'

No reply, she stayed quiet, nothing to say, but she was still there, her glow told him

'Okay, it doesn't matter, if you don't want to say it, or you just plain can't remember the thing, that's fine ... I'll just have to give you one of my own, so I have a point of reference ...'

He sat in silence, the flames warming his whole body. Slowly smiling, it came to him, the scent she carried.

'Ha, I've been trying to work it out, your perfume ... I had thought lavender, and then I thought it might be honeysuckled, but it isn't, is it? I knew my old senses wouldn't let me down ... It's lily of the valley ... That's the flower, that's the one, I knew I'd get there, I knew it ...'

The young girl stopped, yes, it was, and her Nan's favourite perfume that she wore every day. He was right, and she was impressed.

'That's what I'll call you from now on ... Lily ... That's it, that's the one, and even if you don't answer me when I say it, that's who you are to me ... My Lily of the valley ...'

There was a smile there on her face, it lingered as she turned, heading through the door.

'So ... Soup or soup? ... I'd offer you some nice, hot, rabbit stew, but some rotten sod nicked them all, sorry,' was called, as she disappeared along with her soft glow.

'Oh, I'll have soup then, please ... And I don't suppose it's rabbit, is it?' he called back, as she clonked around in the kitchen, with his smile there in hope.

'No ... Homemade carrot and leek, I'm afraid, sorry ... No fresh meat today ... It took a long journey,' she replied with a chuckle, her hands already opening tins.

There, in that warm space, as the sun dropped towards the west, and the soup simmered on the blackened range, a new partnership came into being, one that was a bit odd, but felt safe all the same. With the coming of a new day came the promise of triggered traps, the circle of life to start all over again. Reg being there was a good thing and he made a great cover. He took up little room, ate a miniscule amount, but was good company when the coast was clear.

Soon the conversation would flow, after that first night, when all was calm again. As Reg slept in the cosy room above, the girl closed herself away, down in her box of steel. With the coming night, sleep would be a little hit and miss. Droners were still roaming, and she was still affected. That wasn't going to change, and she knew it.

Slowly closing her eyes, she drifted into the light behind them, looking for the face she thought was lost. As it came into view, she smiled. She was home at last.

'... Hello, Daddy ... I miss you,' was a sorrowful sound, as she faded away, into the darkness, her tears ready to roll.

As Ravi lifted the torch to sweep the room, it died, bringing the darkness to descend upon them. Lost to the gloom, with a faint glow at the other end of the corridor, it seemed a long way to go back for another one.

The noise, it came again, beyond the open door, and not six feet away.

Three men froze as if ice statues, holding their breath and other things too. All turning towards the room before them, their eyes drifting towards the shadow land. In the second they saw it, they nearly released that girly scream, but it stayed there, trapped inside.

Poor Pete nearly dropped a log when the lights flicked on and everyone bounced from the gloom, with their glasses charged and party hats on. Streamers, balloons, and paper chains hung around the walls, and the kids had been busy, hadn't they? The huge birthday banner at the back, coloured with crayon and chalks, wished him many happy returns.

'... HAPPY BIRTHDAY ... Speech ... Speech ...' was called from all the adults, as Ravi and Ed pushed their way in.

They both had big smiles on their faces, their shoulders shrugging as they headed for the bottled beer.

'... You bloody knew, both of you? ... You ...'

'What can I say? Enjoy,' Ravi chuckled. 'I will not lie to you, my friend ... Yes, we knew ... Sorry, and happy birthday ... Want a beer?' he smiled walking for the laden table.

'... Speech ...'

'Okay ... Okay ...' Pete chuckled eventually, taking said beer, as his eyes swept the space around him. 'Ya got me, yeah, yeah, go on then ... Laugh all ya like ... My face white, was it? ... Yeah, I bet it was ...'

His thanks across the board were expressed, everyone, even the newbies were included. They were part of what was to come, the plan for the future. What they'd seen and lived through, the hardships, the fights, for life and freedom, it was all worth it, and Pete told them he wouldn't have been able to do it alone. All of them were important, and he wanted them to know that.

Food appeared from all directions, steaming rabbit stew, chutneys, dips, pies and soda breads, and they had tinned fruit and red jelly with tinned milk. A big birthday cake then arrived, a slab of it, with five little candles to be puffed out, which was cubed and passed around on small paper plates. Pretty lanterns dangled from the overhead cabling, their Chinese patterns in yellow and blue. There were laughs and tales of old, light banter and birthday songs.

When the music started the party really got going. Dancing soon erupted and dragged in the youngsters. Even little Jack was lifted and swung around, his giggles a nice sound to hear. The kitchen ran as the bar, whatever you fancied, it might be found. Beer was plenty, the crates of stout, from the old boy's shop, put to very good use.

With the coming of the midnight hour, people drifted back to their units, sozzled and ready for sleep. It had been a long day, but a good one, much had been accomplished, and there was always room for improvement. Birthdays were always a good reason to party. It gave the people something else to think about, a little release, and way to lose themselves for a while. Okay, it wasn't much, and was over soon enough, but whilst it lasted they had time to live.

Sometimes it was easy to forget who they were, down there, struggling and fighting every day of their lives. There had to be a break in that routine at some point, before someone lost it and got hurt in the process. Complacency caused sloppiness, and no one needed a dose of that in their day. Being that way killed people, and no one was dying, not on Pete's birthday.

Cally ambled over to join Smithy and him. They were talking about the new design for the rabbit house, to be located in the barn entrance above, enough pens to start the meat chain, the supply never-ending.

She stood and listened for a while, until Clare called Smithy over about something. He left with a quick nod, his smile there as usual.

'So,' she smiled at Pete, 'had a good evening?'

'Yeah, not bad ... I've had a few drinks, a few laughs ... And I've received a nice collection of presents ... What more could a man, in a world like this, ask for?' he grinned, swaying slightly where he stood, half-full glass in hand.

Gifts were given in all shapes and forms. There were homemade cakes from the ladies, and painted pictures from the children. Arthur, whilst on one of their outings, had located a nice bottle of red wine, about twenty years old, and Clare made him a blanket from recycled red and black jumpers, all sewn together into a large square.

Cally slowly smiled as she looked at the pile to one side, the array varied if nothing else, and most of it edible.

'... Ere, come with me,' she crooned, with a naughty twinkle in her eye. 'I'll give you a birthday present you won't forget ...'

It was said with a slow smile on her face, as she took his hand and led him away, back to the other end of the settled compound and, away, to her very quiet bedroom.

### PART 2

### Know Thine Enemy

'Lily, have you suffered anything fatal, as yet?' was softly asked, his old face looking sad in the morning light. 'If you have already, but then came back to life still as you, it makes you just as dangerous as them, but not the same ... Only through bites and scratches, or the swapping of bodily fluids, can you transfer it the same as them things ... As long as you're careful with your level of physical contact, and you don't cross that line, there' nothing to worry about ... All I will say is ... Stay away from the kissing gate or you'll cause a right ruckus,' Reg chuckled, trying to be as cheerful as he could.

Grey eyes drifted to the window, with its early morning light and the sun just showing itself through the trees. Their conversations were never normal, not the same as other people's, regarding a day at work or a trip to the shops. They didn't talk using such words, for it was in vain, as they no longer existed in the new world. As with most places of employment, they were all burnt out and crumbled. No point in that as a topic, those days were long gone.

'There is a place, a good days walk from here, towards the west, across the county line ... I found it once, when I was running away from something ... I hid there, alone, all night and all the next day ... I was just a child, frightened to my core, but there was something, no, someone, who helped me ... It was a strange meeting, and she told me many things, strange things, things that made no sense to a child of that age ...'

Those eyes of her's never left that view, cast out to sea, lost to a wave, or a whip of the wind on a foaming white-water crest.

'I see now, what she was saying, those words she used, they came to pass ... This life I have, the one I'm decaying in ... I am not it, as it is not me ... You say Lily, but I'm not her ... In here, inside, there is someone else ... If I am still in here, and I am still me, why does the voice in my head avoid saying my real name?'

That layer of sadness oozed from her soul, to be laid on the table, to be seen or not seen. Her steady tone would not reflect the underlying loss, as her strength held it together, along with some courage too.

'There is no fable about a princess abandoned to the forest ... There is no fairy-tale ending where I'm to be carried away by a handsome prince ... Yes, there is a final chapter for me, and it was that which brought me to your door ... Don't think of me as a feeble creature to be treated as a child ... Beyond these immature eyes reside another side, a darker side, one that is not so forgiving ... My time alone taught me many things, old man, so my life isn't just a list of tragedies ...'

It sounded cold, but it wasn't meant to, she was stating a fact not a threat. There was a smile, but it wasn't heard, as she lifted from her place at the table.

Reg remained silent with his thinking at full speed, and his sightless eyes blinking through his gloom. Turning towards her he grinned, his face a plate of sudden sunshine.

'Hey, it could be worse, love ... You could be an old crumbly and as blind as a bat like me ...'

Stopping, with her teacup in her hand, she turned her face to the warming sun and closed her eyes slowly. There was a smile heard in her next few words, as was intended.

'... Now, just think about that for a second ... No, being me, like this ... I still win ...'

Early morning in bed, with hot tea, a gramophone playing instrumental softly in the distance, and a warm body to cosy up next to, as the world below slowly welcomed the dawn. Voices tumbled through the open doors, left that way to hear life and the living. Kid's laughter, chuckles and shrieks, all there to remind them there was a future worth fighting for. They were a precious commodity, the little ones, and they were there to be loved and cherished by all.

Rolling over, Cally looked at Pete, his eyes open and staring straight up. Placing her cheek to his chest, she listened to the steady pattern, her sway lifting with it as his chest rose and fell. Still the soft music floated through, carrying the sounds from the living space. Pete had declared it was Sunday, and that meant no tools and not trudging up and down. It promised to be a lazy one too, and it was about to be just that.

'What was it like before, you know, your old life?' she asked, her voice hardly heard over the sound from beyond.

She thought he might shy away from her question, as not many wished it asked, but he didn't, he rolled away and lit two smokes instead. One was passed to her, as they sat up, facing the open bedroom door.

'What, before, before? ... Ha, that's a lifetime ago now, Cal ... I can hardly remember that bloke anymore, he's just a ghost, lost out there, somewhere, chasing a shadow or something ... There was a life, a family, a home and job ... But they were all lost, along with everything else ... So, here I am, doing this instead, with you ...'

There was a smile, and his eyes meant it, but inside, maybe it was a little different. He was trying to let someone in, but sometimes that might not seem as easy as it sounds.

'I had a husband once, his name was Charlie, met him at a dance in the village hall ... Worked the farm as a kid with his dad, kept horses, a dairy herd, plus pigs for sausages ... We had a good life ... Had three kids too ... Eric, he was the eldest, then there was Stephen in the middle, and last, and the baby of the family, was our little Janey ...'

It wasn't a sad conversation. On the contrary, she was smiling as she spoke. Silence, as she took a pull on her smoke and a sip of her tea.

'I don't need any pictures to remind me, it's all stored in my head ... The loss of loved ones is the highest wall to climb, but there's always someone waiting on the other side, love, even if it does seem a long way down at the time ...'

The loss of loved ones, there was a thing. How lost did they need to be? And who was lost, Pete, maybe Cally?

'Some of it, the great parts, those I'll never forget and don't want to,' he took a sip to pause, 'and the parts that did the damage, I try not to linger on those because I can't change any of it ... But that doesn't mean I don't care or wish to forget ... It's still there, Cal, and those great parts won't ever leave me ... I promised myself that,' he smiled, knowing the truth of his inner feelings.

'Is that why you still wear your wedding ring?'

Her face didn't turn, as she continued her smoke. Putting her cup on the small cabinet next to her, she reached over for her ashtray.

'... Is that why you still wear yours?' was his almost whispered reply.

More distant laughter, more giggles, and more soft music, lifted and drifted, a fine sound to hear. How the day fluttered by with such gay abandonment, and nothing to do but sit in bed and chat.

'... Yeah, maybe I wear it to not forget,' he continued, after being ignored for his last remark. 'I'm not sure anymore, probably out of habit more than anything else ... It all changed so quickly, and so differently, they were here one second, gone the next ... Those that didn't perish, then, were to witness the full truth of devastation ... Being here, after, it was enough to turn me grey, and it did, almost overnight ...'

He drank a little and smoked a little, his eyes staring towards the middle-distance. His features held a half smile just for a moment, and then it was gone, the same as his family.

'I blame myself for not being there, I think we all do, not that we could have done anything better or different, I realise that now,' he surmised. 'I saw what I saw, the wall of fire, the falling, the burnt ... They didn't go down, not all of them, some got up and kept going, like they didn't even feel it ... I knew then we were all lost ... I couldn't get home, there was no way through, and when I finally got there, I wished I hadn't ... But there's a story a hundred survivors can tell you, the only difference being, theirs will have different names to their people and places ...'

Pete said it as it was seen by many, and all at the same time. You couldn't stay and tackle what was facing you, it wasn't them anymore, not those you loved and protected. Turning away seemed cowardly, but you had to live to fight another day. A hard choice, when your kin are what you are trying to escape in the first place, and even worse when you know they don't love you anymore for the normal reasons.

'Look, you did what you could, same as us, we all did it too ... Sometimes it was enough, sometimes it wasn't, but it's what you learn from it that counts ... I lost a husband and three kids, I feel guilty as hell for not doing more ... But, here I am, below ground, surviving ... You made that happen, not those things out there ... You built it, you carved it, and you located those of us living down here ... Don't be so hard on yourself, Pete, you're worth more than you think ...'

Cally kissed the side of his face as she finished, just so she backed it up with something he could actually feel. Sometimes he was reachable, sometimes his wall was up. Maybe Sunday was different then.

'Yeah,' he slowly grinned, 'I hear you, I do ... But it doesn't stop it, does it, the guilt I mean? I expect it's there for good now, but I already knew that, and that's another of those stupid things I can't change ...'

'But we can change the future and we have to try, so there's another two things we're all really good at, change and trying,' she smiled, putting her smoke out, and looking over at him. 'And here's another question for you, slightly different this time ... What originally brought you to this part of Dorset? Did you live around here, is that the connection?'

'Now, that I can answer ... The farm, and Manor House, belonged to my Great-uncle Harry ... He supplied thousands of horses to the army, right throughout the first war ... They were collected here, in vast quantities, before being shipped out ... I always felt so sorry for them, poor bloody things ... We might have thought the men were scared, but how does a horse scream? Loudly, I'm told ...'

There was a tale of sorrow and woe, animals led to the slaughter, and all the grim bits beside. The beast of burden, it shouldered the destruction of war, to be ripped and torn, along with all other forms of life. Cast aside, as if a butchered waste, they saw as much, if not more, their eyes not turned away from the cannons blast.

The silence, it held there a second, as the bloody battle raised its cry, the ghost of those gone before, standing proud, their trusty steads at hand.

'So ... What we got planned today then? Fancy a look around the cliffs, see if we find anymore wild mushrooms,' Cally finally threw out there, expelling the chill from the air as quickly as it had dropped in.

'Yeah, we can do, if ya like ... Do we know if it's still raining, or has it stopped yet,' he enquired, climbing from the bed and heading for the compostable toilet.

'I have no idea ... We'll have to take our chances when we get top-side,' was called, as he vanished off towards the smallest room, and she swung free of the sheets.

Standing, Cally slowly stretched, before bending to retrieve her discarded clothes mingles with Pete's. Upon his return, she was clothed and ready to go, her day started with a fresh pair of socks.

'Hey, I was thinking of taking a trundle out towards Bridport, maybe tomorrow or the day after ... Last time we swung through that way I noticed there might be some fuel left where the army had that base ... We haven't picked it clean yet, and it could hold some goodies ... If a group of us goes in two teams, one can take the lorry, the rest can follow in the old flatbed ... What ya think? Fancy coming alone for the ride ... Because you are my best gal,' he smiled, standing to move towards her for a little light petting.

He mentioned it for no reason really, it was just a thought. Getting his hands on her was enough to change his outlook anyway. Cally made him forget a lot of nasty things, and most days, that was nice.

'Okay, but only if I can check that dress shop out ... I haven't had a new outfit in ages, and these men's slacks are okay, but to wear some ladies clothes for a change ... Wow, silk draws, there's a lovely thought,' she giggled, being cocooned in his manly arms.

'Mmm, silk draws, aye? ... Is that what ya wearing now?' he smirked, looking down at her with that glint in his eye.

Pulling away, she wriggled free of his embrace. Taking her ankle boots from by the door, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. Smiling slowly, she spoke before she made her quick exit.

'... What, wearing silk draws, and on a Sunday? ... Nah, not me, love, I ain't wearing any bloomers today, not if I can help it ... And, besides, it'll save on my washing, won't it?' she giggled, leaving him to his smiling face and pretty blue eyes.

Lily, as Reg had taken to calling her, wandered the lane in the early morning light, heading for the gate at the end. There was a lazy line through her day, the air fresh from a night's worth of rain. The sun was warm for such an early hour, bringing a forecast of what was to come. Taking her time, she ambled along, with no need to rush, knowing the mushrooms would still be there.

Best picked, when crested by dew, the punnet swung in her hand as she hummed her way through the long meadow flowers. Looking into the trees on passing, she was reminded of the traps to be set upon her return.

It was lovely and quiet, with her long hair blowing free in the wind, all at peace, and to mosey where she pleased. To breathe and not feel a heartbeat, that was the hardest thing to live with. It was there, but her chest felt empty, as if vital internal organs were missing. Rubbing a hand to the soulless cavity, she might have wept, but she didn't, merely from the lack of tears.

'... Let's all feel sorry for the dead girl ...'

She said it aloud, into the warm air that encircled her, as if speaking to the trees themselves.

Paying no never mind to what lay beyond, she skirted the old fence and took the path to the cliff. On a soft breeze day, she would go right to the very edge and peer over. Taking five paces back, she would lift her arms out, either side, close her eyes, and drop her head back a little, pretending to fly, up there, with the big sea birds. To be like them, free, to fly away, far away, and never to return, that was a fairy-tale ending, that was the one worth having.

Silly and foolish, she chuckled to herself, moving away from the edge. Turning to look down to the beach she saw it. It saw her too and stopped, before making a dash for the high seawall. Focusing in, using her dark-side, Lily travelled the space in a second, to be right there on the sand. From within the gloom, behind her eyes, she saw it was a man, a young man, and he wasn't a droner.

Drawing back, rather quickly, she threw her mushroom carrier, and headed for the sloop towards the beach. Whoever it was down there, they had to leave? There was no room in her village for vagrants, other than the affected, and more so if he wore an army uniform. Only one thing came with that type, and it was never good news for her.

Almost jogging at a steady pace, Lily chased the track along to the wild orchard. From there, a fork took her ahead, meeting the road into town, or she could do the long slope, straight down, to the end of the promenade.

Stopping, to check for movement, the man had made it as far as the old hotel, down near the marketplace. As she watched, he shot over to the corner house, dropped down a few steps, leading to the basement accommodation, and disappeared.

After her rapid descent, she took the service road, cutting along the back gardens. Upon reaching the garden required, she located a hole in the high wooden fence, through which she spied. All windows were boarded up, over all floors. No point in trying that way then.

There must be another way in without going near the front. It was there but she just couldn't see it. It swirled in her mind, just can't see it, yet. Experienced eyes picked away, looking for a point of entry. Think, think, there must be a way in, there must be.

Maybe knocking herself on the forehead a few times had helped, for an idea had indeed materialised. Walking away from the house, but staying close to cover, she headed for the old shops up the road. What she needed would be there, and plenty of it. So, off she went, in the direction of Duke Street.

A group of droners walked into sight, not that they saw her. As ever, she dodged around them as if avoiding a muddy puddle. She was busy and didn't have time to play, but she did decide to keep them in mind as an option, should Plan A totally fail.

Taking her chances with the one nearest, she tried the back entrance first. Sometimes it was better than through the front, it was easier and quieter than smashing through a sheet of plate glass. Too much noise attracted too much unwanted attention, which was a valid lesson in a silent world.

Gaining access didn't take much, not with a booted foot and a crowbar from the shed. It snapped free from its frame, did that old door, as if a tender pea popped straight from its shiny shell. Using her vision through the gloom, upon entry, the building was deemed clear before another step was taken. Steady as she goes, through the backroom, and out into the dark corridor. That's what she wanted, the storeroom.

Using her crowbar once more, she snapped the lock and pushed the door back. The place was crammed with untouched stock. Boxes of food, crates of beer and pop, and a myriad of other items were racked in neat rows, all labelled, ready to roll.

That's what she wanted, six bottles of that, and some tea towels too, or cloth of some sort. Turning on the spot, she saw the ships matches in their large carton, and ripped five packets free, one to keep at hand, plus four for future use. From there, she found a collection of towels, grabbing plenty she rammed them into the stolen bag, along with everything else. Finally, and always a must on her list when out raiding shops, a treat for Reg, something special that he would fully appreciate. Arh, now that would do it, another bottle of fine French brandy, and a nice one at that.

She was at the point of turning back when she heard the voices getting louder. Sneaking a quick look around the door frame beside her, it was obvious they were heading her way. It sounded like they were caught at the corner, that's what she heard. They were shouting at each other as they took the droners down, one by one.

How many voices, several? She didn't want to stay and find out, that wasn't why she was there. She was there to scare one away, just one, not a whole noisy squad of them.

Closer and closer still, they came, right to the front, and heading towards the back. They were talking, standing holding guns, rifles even. Guns weren't nice, they'd already put a hole in her once, which took ages to heal. She didn't want to go through that again, and she wished she was sat at home, with Reg, reading a book she knew by heart. There, she would be far away from what was happening, and probably a lot happier too.

'Yes ... Right you are, Sir ... Okay, boys, clear these shops, quickly and quietly ... We don't want a repeat of just now, do we?' was a snapped reply in regards to the order given.

Lily had only one option, make it upstairs as quickly, and quietly, as possible. Up she flew, to the room at the front, looking down through the grey net curtain to the street below. They were moving in, but they didn't break anything either, their noise kept to the minimum.

Hearing the back gate go with a thud, she knew they would be there soon. Rushing to a chair, she dumped her bag and rummaged through it. As she turned back for the door, she heard the voices beneath.

With every pocket of freedom comes a restraint, it's called, know your limits. It is there, even if you don't see it, and it is a vital part of life. To restrain is to hold back, as in a net or with a wall, however you want to term it, but it remains for whatever reason.

Boys will be boys, they like to rough and tumble, and they like to play and explore. They always have, and they always will. Eventually, they grow to become young men, a stage in life that may seem hard at the time, but they soon realise they will reap some rather jolly benefits in the end, and most do.

Sonny was a good boy, still only nine, and as quiet as a mouse. After losing his dad, in the way they had, he couldn't find any words to say, so he preferred to say nothing. His mum, Patsy, would get the standard courtesy gestures, but that was about as far as it went. He wasn't a wanderer, which was good, nor was he a trouble maker, another added bonus. Staying by her side, at all times, was his only rule, and with her in view, his day would be a happy one.

That left his bored older brother, Jake. At fourteen, he was tall for his age, long legged, with a mop of dark hair, and he towered over his little mum, having to stoop to kiss her. Living below for him was cloying and claustrophobic, possibly a slow lingering style death, even to the ready sunk tomb. Having seen some things that would silence a smaller child, for Jake it was as if the world were an oyster, sat in his palm, ready to down in one.

Standing taller than usual, he decided he was to become the man of the house. Not take charge, or anything like that, no, but take on more responsibility, do the heavier chores, and maybe start making some tough decisions around the place, that sort of thing.

Going in search of Billy, he found the younger boy in the book room reading a comic, sat in his usual spot, away from the others. It was always so quiet in there, as with the old libraries, and should have had one of those signs hanging up saying 'No Talking'.

He walked over and slid into the seat opposite his new friend, reaching for a comic not in use.

'You bored? I am ... Wanna go and check on the rabbits ... I could do with being topside for a bit ... The air always tastes better up there because it's so fresh ... And I bet it's a lovely day too ... Wow, a game of football outside in the warm sunlight ... Wouldn't that be amazing?'

Billy's eyes slowly drifted up from his page, his gaze in line with the boy's opposite.

'Yeah, we can go and check on the rabbits, haven't been up since yesterday, after all,' he grinned, almost sounding slightly sarcastic. '... And football, outside ... Are you nuts? If Dad caught me I'd be minced in a second ... So, do you really want my murder on your hands?'

'Okay, well, if you do have a football, anywhere, we could have a game in the barn ... It's big enough, we could play up the other end, away from the pens ... We'd have enough space, it's not like we need a pitch or anything, it's just kicking a ball ...'

Jake pushed the comic back across the table, he hadn't even flicked through it.

'Okay,' Billy huffed, closing his and setting it down on the pile beside his elbow, 'there is a ball, somewhere, not a great one, but I think it still has a bit of bounce left in it ... Now, where did I put it?'

Straining the old grey matter, Billy tried to recall the moment he last had it. His eyes lit up as it came to thought.

'... I know! ... Come with me,' he grinned, 'I just remembered ...'

So, off both of them trotted, in search of the missing ball.

Ten minutes later, they were sneaking up the staircase, heading for above. No one was there, it was Sunday. Someone would be up to check on the small flurry livestock at some point, but until then, the echoing space was all theirs. Folding back the heavy metal door, they wriggled through and into the lovely daylight.

'Wow, isn't that a million times better than down there?' Jake chuckled, his hands coming to rest at his waist.

'Must admit, yes it is, a million times better, and more,' Billy smiled, walking to the far end of the long empty shell.

Near the opening to below, a small indoor garden area had been built up, from the ground, using various materials. New potatoes grew in old rubbish bins, their size perfect for a bumper crop. Onions, tomatoes and an array of root vegetables were also available, and anything they could get growing, they grew. In the next section down, were the chickens, also in large pens, with their small wooden houses and their brown soil floor.

The rabbit runs were over the other side, just behind the runner beans, nestled around their own little houses. Hay was abundant from the surrounding wildflower meadows, and would be gathered as needed, always enough to go round. Fed on all the vegetation they could consume, their meat would be on the menu over the course of the foreseeable future, stewed or stripped, no one minded.

And, so, their game began, to and fro, to and fro, kick for kick, until the loop was finally broken. They bantered as they played, back and forth, back and forth, pat for pat, and pass for pass. It was nice, the sun through the clear roof, pouring in, warm and on the tops of their heads. It filled the area with a light air, gentle to breathe, easy to swallow. There were laughs and giggles, and it was freeing, being topside, away from the staler air beneath.

Jake kicked the ball a bit too hard, he didn't mean to, but his foot skimmed off the very edge of the fabric, sending off in an odd direction. Bouncing off the back wall, it ricocheted over the low beam and crashed against the side door.

'Cor, couldn't you get it any further?' Billy chuckled, watching as Jake walked off to retrieve it.

Bending to pick it up, the lad turned with it in his hands, and glanced back at the boy behind him.

'Hey, look at this,' he almost whispered, waving him over. 'This isn't locked ... The chain's through the hole, twice, but the padlock's hanging open ... You reckon someone's gone out?'

Billy pottered over to take a look. Jake was right, the padlock was loose and the chain not connected.

The two boys swapped glances, their minds working in silence. Jake put the ball down near his ankles, then turned his attention back to the unlocked door.

'... No, Jake ... If we go out there, we are so dead, and in a hundred different ways, so you don't want to be doing that? ... Jake ...?'

The older boy wasn't listening, as he unthreaded the rusty chain, to set the opening free.

'Are you coming? ... Or are you a Mummy's boy, just like my little brother, Sonny?'

It wasn't so much the words, but the more way it was said. The tone was almost a dare, maybe forcing the hand that was usually steady, the one that wouldn't take chances.

Billy would have stayed behind but for one small detail. The first rule of the compound was screamed inside his head, go nowhere alone. It buzzed and fizzed in there, as Jake lifted the chain away and placed his fingers through the cut-out hole.

'Yeah, I'm coming ... But first we need to arm ourselves, in case of an emergency ... Which is the compound's number two rule, by the way, after number one, always stay together ... Besides, Ravi and Pete never leave home empty handed, do they? The butchering section has a tool-shed, we can take something from there, that should do,' Billy advised, turning for the wooden cupboard behind the chicken house.

With Jake clenching a meat clever, and Billy taking a long knife from the back shelf, they headed for the great outdoors. That first step was always the hardest, checking the coast was clear, looking for signs of moaners. Once the threshold had been crossed there was no turning back. It was a big world out there, full of nasty surprises and walking decay. You took your life in your hands popping out to pick daisies, so what the hell where they doing, walking out into it, without an adult in sight?

'We must be mad ... What are we doing again?' Billy asked, shuffling out behind Jake, almost using him as a shield.

'We're getting some fresh air, remember? It's that stuff that floats around, you can't see it but it keeps you alive! I'm amazed you haven't done this sooner, how have you coped down there, breathing in all those peoples farts?' Jake chuckled, taking another step further out, and feeling braver by the second.

The sun was warm out there, and glowing bright just for them. A light breeze swayed the long grasses, as the birds dipped and the sea rolled ashore. Salt rested on wetted lips, to be licked away and savoured. Arh, for a day on the beach, to frolic and be fools, if only for a while. Footprints and sandcastles, rock pools and digging for buried treasure. All those things were lost, yet there were all still needed, sometimes.

'... Come on ... Let's make a run for it ... The cliffs are that way ... I saw them when we first arrived ... We'll be okay, we've got each other ... What, don't you trust me?' Jake whined sounding a little rejected because of his idea.

'No,' Billy snapped, 'it's not that ... It's just that we shouldn't be out here in the first place ... My Dad will...'

'What, what will he do, and where is he to do it? ... Sometimes we have to live a little dangerously, Billy, it's how we remind ourselves we're still alive ... Life isn't over yet, we're not over yet ... But, if you don't stick your head up sometimes, you'll never see what it is you're really missing, will you?' he stated, looking at Billy sideways.

So, run they did, away from their big barn, and away from their long grass meadow. Onto the track they dashed, their feet flying them over the forgotten trail and down towards the lane beyond. Stopping to catch their breath, warm hands rested on shaking knees, their gasps loud and rushed.

'That's the cliff path, that way ... We came down here on holiday once, years ago ... Weymouth and Portland Bill are that way, passed Chesil Beach ... I liked it there, the beach went for miles ... Did you know they call this The Jurassic Coast, and what a great name it is, don't you think? It means dinosaurs lived around here ... Shame they didn't now, that would be a great way to get rid of the roamers, wouldn't it?'

As he spoke, Jake's hand lifted to indicate towards the east. He had a big grin on his face when he finished, as though he found his own joke funny.

'What way now then, and what are we looking for, by the way?' Billy asked, looking around him, seeing the gorgeous day, and then taking it in to keep for later.

'That way, my dear boy ... And we are looking for people, dead or alive ... Someone, or something, used that door to escape ... They have to be out here somewhere, so let's find them, shall we?' Jake smiled, whilst his eyes checked for anything nasty approaching from behind.

Making their way to the cliffs, they stopped for a second to take in the view. Ragged ends of land stretched off in both directions, their grassy tops bright in the early light. The aroma of warm flowers lifted and dazed along, to create a cloud to pass through, soft and scented. Gulls and songbirds swopped in the blue above, not paying any attention to their watchers stood below.

Freedom was a special privilege, but it came with such a cost. With the boys looking up, things were known to change quickly and without warning. Lost to the spectacle around them, they weren't to know just how quickly it could change, and to what extent.

The silence was broken as the first of them droned into sight, scrambling for the prize. Tumbling from the path they had only just used, the two boy's blood ran cold. Their worst nightmare had just come true.

Jake, seeing them first, turned and ran, shouting at Billy to follow. Spinning on the spot, as the oldest took a hike in the opposite direction, there was nowhere for him to go, all his exits were blocked.

Knowing what was to come, Billy stood his ground, with his back to the open cliff, to pull the long knife free from his leather belt. Gripping it in both hands, he readied himself to do battle. Counting them quickly, six in all, he realised if he could get the upper hand, his location could find him in a rather favourable position.

'... JAKE ... JAKE ...'

No point, he had already gone, and was probably halfway back to the barn already. Going for help? He very much doubted it. To instigate it and then bail when the road became tough, Billy didn't need to think about Jake anymore. His own life was more precious, and he was about to prove that, to himself if no one else.

'Okay, Taylor, take it easy, don't drink it all now, save some for later, lad ... And have you checked up there yet? ... I bet you haven't, you dirty little snot-bag, get up those stairs, now, move it, move it ... Davis, you better go with him, you know he gets lost in his own bed ... Well, then, hurry up, boy, one, two, one, two ...'

The young girl moved without sound, over towards the built-in corner cupboard, as the men climbed higher and nearer. Hiding within, amongst long musty coats covering her upper half, she closed her eyes, as the creeping came into the room.

On the landing they had separated in the way they had been trained, to safely clear all present danger. Sweeping through open doors and around dusty furniture was fine, but facing more of those rancid things. Even more disturbing was if the group were mainly children, from a school or playground. That was always the hardest to stomach, one bullet each, if you could spare it, pap, pap, pap.

Taylor took the back rooms, a box and a double, plus the small bathroom, as Davis took the front of the property, which housed the large living room and kitchen. Above was an attic room, to be swept in just the same way, once their own floor had been completed.

Her bag, she left her bag on that chair, it had her kit in it. If she could have sworn aloud she would have. Touching her hand to her waste, at least she had her knife with her. Placing her fingers over the pommel, a safe feeling flooded her whole body, as though a bright light had been cast down upon her head.

Though she wasn't in the mood for killing anyone, she would if she really had to. That decision was never made in jest, but sometimes it was the only way out. Knowing her cuts and bruises would mend didn't make it an easier decision to be made, but, under her circumstances, she had to be prepared for anything, even soldier boys.

'... Clear ...' the one furthest away called through to his pal, still looking. 'Ere, Davis, you okay in there ...? Found some more posh plonk, have we?' was laughed into the room, where it stopped.

'Nah, nothing in here, not that I've seen anyway ... All clear, mate, and good to go,' was a quickly said reply.

One was heard to walk away, as the one other stayed in the room. He spoke again.

'Tay, you can go down now, I'm gonna take a dump ... I haven't had one for a few days, and they've got a tub in there, ain't they?'

'... Yeah, there's a tub, but why can't you use the bog like everyone else ... Oh, God, no, I take that back, it's full already ... So, yeah, they have a tub, and good luck in there,' came bouncing back, as the speaker disappeared off downstairs.

What about the other one, gone to take a dump? Waiting a moment before opening the door, she checked through the small gap, not yet leaving her hidey hole. Good, that soldier had left too. Hardly squeaking a floorboard, she moved towards the chair, the one with her bag sat in it. Lily couldn't believe her eyes, it was empty. Her bag had gone.

'... So, it was you I saw on the cliff, earlier, pretending to fly ... I recognise the blue cardigan,' came the almost whispered male voice from behind. 'Oh, and one last thing ... You'll be wanting this ... And French brandy, good taste, I say ...'

Pushing and swiping, but then back for more, he hacked and chopped, his movements manic. One went down, to be replaced by another, as they bled in on all sides, nearer and nearer. The sound, the smell, it was everywhere, in his ears, filling his eyes, and stinging his throat. No more space behind, just a fall to certain death, squashed at the bottom

Stab, jab, grip and rip, swing it, around and then down. One was at his elbow, tugging and bending to bite. Another appeared on his other side, with her face missing and her teeth showing through her cheek. Up and back, up and back, side to side, their brown mush all over his hand, cold and tacky, getting thicker by the second.

Almost at the point of jumping himself, he dragged at the decaying man, with his tattered jacket and filthy trousers. Pushing the long blade into the front of his head, he toppled, landing to one side. Up next, a partly skinned woman and a small rotting child, likely related. Great, so the little girl had to go first, then the mother, in that order.

From the right, another man, younger but with one side of his body burnt to a crisp, some hair remained but not much. He lurched forwards, taking Billy off his feet, to land not three feet from the cliff's edge. Trying to fend them off, whilst fighting the wind, was becoming a long and tiresome slog, one that sapped his strength quickly and without effort.

Nearly there, just those two left, the one pulling at his left leg, and the one trying to feast on his face. Just one more inch and he could break free. Getting his hand up, he could at least ram the blade in the bloke's forehead. After that he could push him overboard to chop at the one by his ankle.

The smell, it lifted into the warm light, and was revolting. It hung as a mix of rotting flesh and the most hideously bad halitosis ever endured up close. They chomped at him, their features melted and hanging away. Touching one was repulsive too. As you gripped it in your fingers, the slime would peel the outer layer away and into your palm, as if a memento for your time taken.

'... I will not be beaten ... I ... WILL ... NOT ...'

With his final word shouted into the salty air, his hand came free to do his bidding. Kicking the lower one in the face with his booted foot, the blade lifted high, so as to do its dastardly deeds.

'... BILLY ... BILLY ...'

They had seen, and heard, from the path, leading back from their mushroom picking. Cally and Pete ran at those still attacking, swiping them away, to end their time on earth. Over the edge, to tumble and fall, the cliff was cleared of what remained.

Pulling Billy to his feet, Pete dragged him for the barn, by way of a fistful of collar. Getting his version of the story told first, in fits and starts, Billy attempted to explain his reason for being out there. That didn't mean anything to Pete or Cally. All they saw was a kid about to be killed on a cliff by moaners.

If Billy thought Pete was angry, he wasn't home yet, knowing the real trouble would start as soon as he was on his own doorstep. As he already knew, his father would have something to say about his little trip out, and, as he was dragged towards that side door, he also knew there was someone, down there, who he really wanted to have a few quiet words with.

'... Don't you want to come with us? We can help keep you safe, or try to ... I can see you're doing okay, but, out here, alone, are you sure about that?'

There were no words said, she simply nodded at the young man, her eyes never leaving his.

'Okay, if you say so ... Seeing as you've coped for this long, and who am I to change that anyway.'

The young soldier kept his voice low as he spoke. Not that there would be any trouble in finding the girl, but trying to explain why she was hiding up there would be a story not worth starting. The others would want to take her with them, but somehow he knew she would be okay. Without attempting to be, everyone had become a target, no one was safe anymore, and a young girl on her own, well, that was just asking for issues.

'... So ... Us, we were stationed over near Salisbury, there were hundreds of us back then ... Over time we all got separated, some vanished, some became infected ... We did what we could, but it never seemed enough ...'

The soldier boy sat opposite the young pale girl, the one with the liking for brandy. His voice was gentle, as he gave a brief account of what they had been up to.

'On our way through one town, we came across a few survivors ... We asked them to tag along, but they were heading in a different direction to us, so we left them on the road to Bournemouth as we headed west ... After that, all we saw was roamers ... There were a few nasty patches, when things got a little worrying, but we got through it, we always do ...'

He paused to take a mouthful of brandy, his lips smacking loudly as it was swallowed away.

'Is there just you left then, no one else, no family?' he then asked, his hand wiping the sweat from his brow.

'Me?' she almost croaked. 'No, no family left ... I live in the old hotel, along the seafront,' she lied, 'it's near some other shops, but they were gutted by fire ages ago ...'

'Okay, well, sorry to hear of your loss, so many have suffered, us included, all our families probably perished the same way ... So, there's only six of us left now, originally we were a full troop ... We lost three more, two days ago, on the road into Bridport, right mess it was, trying to reach a base that didn't even exist anymore ... Thought we might pick up a people carrier, but there wasn't any fuel left anywhere ... We headed here because we saw the shops ... We needed supplies, so we thought we'd do a graze through on our way out of town ... Sarg, he has the map ... We're heading for Yeovil next, see what else we find ...'

'... Davis ... Find a shoehorn, sharpish, the daylight it fading and we need to get going ...'

'Yeah, Sarg, sorry, Sarg ... Nearly there, Sarg, honest,' he called down, hoping it would suffice.

'... NOW, Davis ...'

'Best thing for you is to stay up here ... If I go down, we'll leave ... Give it a few minutes after, and run like the wind ... Oh, and don't drink all that brandy at once, you'll only make yourself very drunk, and very sick,' he smiled, heading for the landing. 'Good luck,' he whispered, upon looking back at the quiet girl and her pale face. 'Probably won't see you again ... But, it was nice all the same ... Bye ...'

Away and gone, with his little troop of nowhere men, wandering off to look to pastures new, down a long and winding road, leading north.

Silence again, the sound of feet traipsing away into the afternoon air.

Turning to the bag on her left, her hand dropped into it as it pulled free an unopened bottle. Giving it a twist, to break the seal, the top was popped off and the aroma savoured. Three swigs were taken, one after the other, straight down, and with a huge cough at the end. Okay, so she might not have much of a heartbeat, but that helped more than she could imagine. Using the back of her hand to wipe her mouth dry, it was closed away, and returned to the bag by her legs.

'Blimey, and now I've gotta walk up that stupid hill, again ... Just as well there's plenty of bottles then,' she said to herself, as she lifted from her seat and made her way home.

Across the barn he raced, his football forgotten, and through the hatch and down the steps. Around the side of Clare and Smithy's place, and along passed his own. Under the arch, turn right and straight for the door at the end.

'Where's Jake?' he demanded, as he rushed up to Ravi, still sitting at the radio table, as usual. 'Have you seen him recently?'

When the man finally spoke, his eyes didn't move from the dial being scanned through. Still nothing, but maybe one day there might be a reply.

'... Yes, my young friend, he is in the games room with the other children ... You okay, you sound different?'

The man looked up to see the boy's ashen face and his sore eyes disappear through the door and away.

Jake was where he was said to be, sitting with the little kids, hiding in the games room. He didn't see the younger boy whip around the open door behind and move, with purpose, in his direction. As the hand landed on his left shoulder, he turned to look.

Smack, the first was to his nose.

'... That's for dragging me out there in the first place ...'

Smack, Billy hit him again, only harder, making his lip bleed.

'... And that's for leaving me, you rotten ratbag ... Don't you come near me, ever again ... I HATE YOU, do you hear me?'

Silence around the room, not one kid brave enough to stop it or say something.

Ravi heard and came running. Grabbing Billy, he dragged him away, leaving Jake sprawled on his back, holding his bleeding face.

Arthur was told, and so he was on the warpath too. Heads would butt over recent events, and when he got his hands on his kid, well. Barging into the room he was faced with something he'd, as yet, not experienced.

'What the hell? You, boy, back to our place, NOW ... You and me have some words to be said, so you better start moving, before I knock you all the way there ...'

Billy struggled away from Ravi's grip, and marched for the exit, leaving the space behind in silence.

Ravi looked at Arthur's face, which was a collision of bad times and extra chaos.

'Art, you are a brave and strong man, I feel I am one also ... But, looking at the storm brewing in your son, I do not wish myself in your shoes ... Good luck,' he smiled, turning to look down at Jake.

'Now, you, young man ... Well, however you have upset young Billy, I am afraid you have lost a true ally in him ... In these troubled times, we are not in a position to treat those we live with in such a dangerous manner ... Sadly, what you have done is break a fine bond, an action I fear you will come to regret ... And, next time, and I really hope there is never a next time, you might recall this day, and maybe learn from it too ... Now, go see your mother, to explain to her how your face is in such a state of disrepair ...'

Arthur followed his angry son, with a vague idea of what had come to pass. Soon enough the story would be told, and by many below, and it would be held in memory as the day Billy nearly died, but didn't. Helped by Pete and Cally, he came pretty close, but, that day, Billy realised something else.

He realised he wasn't the Mummy's boy, like Jake said he was, and he could hold his own, even when faced with a bunch of smelly old moaners, which was more than could be said of Jake.

'Where have you been, I've been worried sick, you only went to pick mushrooms? It's getting dark already, Lily ... And what's that I can smell in the air? Is that drink?'

'Yeah, yeah, I've been drinking, and very nice it is, this brandy ... Oh, and I got you some too, so don't panic ... Here!'

The bag, chinking as it was lifted, was passed over to Reg, with four untouched bottles inside. Lily had only cracked the one open, leaving the others for Reg.

'I was gonna use it to burn the soldiers out, but I didn't have to,' she almost slurred, falling into the armchair beside her. '... One found me instead ...'

Reg dropped into his seat, his astonishment beyond belief.

'Firstly,' he spluttered, 'what soldiers? ... And secondly ... Why would you want to burn one?'

'Those soldiers, down there,' she said, as her hand flapped in the direction of the door. 'And I was going to torch the place he was hiding in, not him ... I was hoping to scare him away, but I didn't get that far ... I saw the rest when they came to raid the shop I was already raiding ... I didn't want them up here, poking their noses into business that isn't theirs ... One was waiting for me, he'd seen my bag, knew I was there somewhere, so he got me ... Nice chap, but still a bit young for a soldier, I think,' Lily smiled, her eyes half open.

She went on to tell her story of the young chap and his troop, heading for Yeovil. The brandy bottle was passed, sipped from, and then passed back again. Eventually, Reg made an attempt to find glasses, which he did, after locating the correct cupboard.

'I drank the brandy walking back ... At least it helped me get up that stupid hill,' she giggled, taking her glass.

Brandy was being poured as she spoke, a fine tumbler's worth, three fingers and some. Then he stopped pouring and cocked his head to one side. Okay, his sight wasn't always up to scratch, but his hearing rarely let him down.

'What was that?' Reg enquired. 'You didn't bring him home, did ya?'

'What was what? I didn't hear anything ... And, no, I didn't bring him home, why would I do that? No, you're hearing things ... Sure it's not the drink playing games with your mind?' she chuckled, looking up at the old boy, stood before her, along with his rather serious features.

It came again, the noise outside. Looking towards it, neither moved as they listened some more, their eyes strained on that locked door. An almighty crash nearly lifted them both from their spots at the same time, the wave of fear washing over them both.

Suddenly Lily wasn't as drunk as she thought she was. Lifting from where she sat, her knife slid from her belt as she stood to face Reg.

'Stay here, don't move ... And be quiet,' she whispered, as her index finger rose to rest against her paled lips.

Sliding across the cosy room, Lily silently paced the floor, her feet hardly making a sound. Using her sight, she gleamed through the gloom and out into the shadows. Though she tried, she saw nothing.

Another bang, something dropped, something metal maybe, she recognised the sound it made as it hit the path. It was her old steel bowl. She used it to carry the weeds to the hedgerow, where they were then chucked over, never to be pulled up again.

Reg remained in his place, as told. He watched her as she inched her way towards the door, her eyes never leaving the mark she was heading towards.

Lifting her hand slowly, she placed it on the latch, ready to release, before pulling the handle towards her. Thinking it was most probably a fox in the yard, she stopped to take a breath, hoping she was right. Looking behind her, Reg was wide-eyed and open mouthed, after his order to stay put was taken so seriously.

'Well, here goes nothing,' she half smiled, as she lent in to tug it open, her senses reeling with the thought of what awaited beyond the door, out there, in the dark.

In one quick movement, she threw it wide, while standing there, to face the garden, and whatever it was in the gloom. Taking a step back, into the warm space with the soft light, her eyes grew large at what she was faced with. No time to slam the door, she had been seen already, and that changed everything.

He felt as though he had been grounded for life, only being stuck below ground all the time, there wasn't really anything left to be grounded from. Reading his old comics, over and over, helped, but only for so long. Eventually even they became a case of same old, same old, and there were only so many times you could pretend you hadn't read that story before.

His dad had left him to do his usual chores, plus a few more for hitting Jake twice. He recalled the sound it made when his fist smashed into the kids face. Rubbing his knuckles with pride, he smiled to himself, knowing retribution had been dished out, the punishment befitting the crime.

Things had settled down, after the event, returning the compound to its normal state of affairs. The adults beavered around, transferring supplies and keeping the livestock happy, as the kids did what the kids did beast, sat in the games room. He wasn't in the mood to be around the other kids, they always caused trouble for him, and he didn't want to be around Jake, not anymore.

Once his chores were complete, Billy dragged his behind from their unit and took a stroll to the communal kitchen. Digging around in the cupboard, he found the homemade apple and blackcurrant cordial and poured himself a good dash, turning to his right, he topped it off with some lukewarm drinking water. He took it with him as he wandered over to sit at the kitchen table, wanting to be on his own, but, in a compound where everyone lives on top of each other, there is no alone.

'Oh, hi, Billy, I though the kids were all in the games room, you not joining them?' Smithy smiled, as he walked in, looking for more ground coffee for their percolator 'Clare has them all making silly hats for something to do, said something about a fashion show later, just to see what they've cobbled up today ... What's wrong, don't you fancy it?'

'Nah ... Making hats, with babies, and with Jake in there ... I don't think so, not this year,' he almost laughed in reply, as Smithy took the next seat down.

'Arh, a bit like that still, is it?' the big man replied, placing the tin of coffee before him on the table.

'Yeah, it is a bit like that ... How would you feel if it had been little Jack or baby Sarah left out there? ... I bet you would have thumped him too, if it had been either of them,' Billy spiked, not really enjoying the conversation so far.

'Yeah, but that's the difference between us, though, isn't it, Billy ... My kids wouldn't have been out there in the first place, not taking off like that ... What were you thinking, lad?'

Billy looked up from his almost empty glass, his eyes as sharp as diamonds as they glinted in the overhead light.

'Look, I've already been through all this with my Dad, do I really have to do it all again with you?'

Smithy wasn't angered by the teenage lad. He'd been young once too, and not that long ago. Things were hard, for everyone, but they had to get along and make it work. That's all they had.

'I'm not trying to give you an ear-bashing, lad, I reckon you've probably had your fair share of them lately ... All I will say is this ... We haven't got much left in this life, just each other, and as much as you might dislike certain individuals, you still have to live with them, even if they do cause untold amounts of grief ... Hey, I don't love everyone here, but, I'm nicely diplomatic and work well away from them ... Maybe you should think about doing that instead ... Life is only as hard as you make it, Billy, it doesn't have to be a constant battle ... Didn't you know, the war is over ...'

Smithy had a point, what he was saying made sense, even to Billy.

'Yeah, I hear you, and thanks, Smithy ... Sometimes I get so angry, but I know that won't change anything either ... And I miss my Mum, she made everything better, every day,' Billy half smiled, trying not to sound too sorry for himself.

'Arh, Billy, I miss my old Mum too, she was a real gem that one, always made the best apple pie ... Ya know, sometimes, if I close my eyes and breath in, I can still smell it in the air, amazing that ... So, don't be down, I know it's hard, have you spoken to your Dad about it? Maybe you should ... A problem shared is a problem halved, as they say ... Plus, he can't help you if he doesn't know, can he?'

Standing, Smithy looked down at the sad faced kid before him. Taking hold of his tinned coffee, he stopped and spoke, his hand softly resting on the lad's shoulder.

'One thing I will say, you're a fighter ... Don't give that up, Billy, it's what saved you from them things out there, and with the courage you found that day, I'd be right proud if you were my son ... Now, run along ... Sonny was asking where you were, I think he wants you to help him finish his model ... He didn't want Jake to help, he said ... Just you,' Smithy smiled, knowing it was worth saying.

Together they left the room, Smithy one way, and Billy the other. Sometimes it was good to sit and talk, even if it wasn't with his dad. Standing on the outside, looking in, sometimes gave a better perspective, one that was a little clearer maybe, and easier to see through the dark.

'... It's a bloody horse, Reg ... And it's a big bugger too,' Lily almost laughed, looking into the gloom, her shock finally settling.

'What, did I hear you right, did you say a horse?' Reg repeated, trying to make out if she was teasing him or not.

'Yes, Reg, a bloody, great big, horse ... And it's stood in the garden, eating my plants,' she almost laughed again, watching the animal munching away on whatever.

As the door opened, his big head had turned into the light, his dark eyes seeming as bright as torches. The noise he made, as she watched him eat, sounded as if he said hello. As black as night he was, so hardly seen, stood there, consuming whatever he had found.

'Now what do we do?' Reg asked, facing the open door and a smiling Lily.

'Well, me, I'm gonna patch that fence, so it doesn't wander off ... Wow, I've always wanted a horse, now I have one ... Lucky me,' she giggled, with her hands lifted and cradled under her chin.

Was Lily excited, only a little?

'Are you leaving it out there, all night?' Reg then asked, looking for his stick.

'No, Reg, I'm bringing it in here, so it can sleep with you,' she chuckled, turning to watch him totter towards her.

'Now, now, no need for that, I was only asking, was all,' he replied, coming to a standstill.

The horse wasn't taking much notice of those two, as they watched him eat, with his tail swishing and his ears twitching. He'd pushed himself through the hole in the hedge because he'd heard voices, and that meant people. In his thinking, they would look kindly upon a lost beast such as him, thereby taking him in and making him theirs. So far, it was working to plan.

'Actually, if I can catch it, I was going to put it in the garage for the night, then take a better look at it in the morning ... Look at all its scars, and it has an open wound on its side there ... That'll need attention, and probably done when it squeezed through that prickly stuff ... Guess I better see how steady it is first, before I try mending it,' Lily surmised, watching the beast from her leaning position.

'Well, you take care of it while I sort us another drink ... After dealing with that, you might need a stiff one, Lily,' Reg commented, returning to the table. 'I know I've seen enough for one night ... Besides, once you're seen one horse, you've seen them all,' he chuckled, dropping onto a chair.

'I wonder where it came from ... There hasn't been any livestock around here for years ... They all vanished after the fires, along with most of the country's population ... Why here, and why now?'

Lily spoke from the open door, with her arms crossed, watching the one before her, who was almost lost to the darkness itself. There was a nice calmness to it, they way its tail swayed and flicked, and the slow ripping of long grass, to be munched upon and then swallowed.

'Don't know, and I doubt that thing will tell you ... So, get on with it and get it done, instead of standing there, letting the warm air out and the cold air in,' the old boy nagged, feeling the chill spreading into his cosy spot.

'Yeah, okay ... I'll be back in a few ... And I'll have that stiff one when I return, thanks, Reg,' Lily grinned, stepping out and closing the door behind her.

In the garden, night creatures could be heard scurrying about. An owl raised a cry, off in the trees beyond the high hedge. Bats flitted by, swooping down for the tiny insects in the cooling air, their silhouettes just seen against the star-studded night sky.

Talking to the horse in her gentlest tone, she moved around it, keeping a safe distance back.

'Whoa, there you go, safely in a stranger's garden, miles from home, eating and being talked to ... I have a nice garage around there, just right for a nice horsey like you, yes, I do ... And as soon as we get there, you'll been even more safer that standing out here ... So, what do you say? Fancy taking a nice stroll, just around the corner ... It's not far, I promise ...'

Lifting her hand in the darkness, the horses head shook from side to side, as if it were listening. It turned to look at her, its eyes as bright as shooting stars. She could see it peering down at her, the face held aloft, stately almost. Holding her hand out, flat, she waited to see if the soft muzzle would lower to sniff or lick. It did, briefly, leaving her palm smeared with munched slime.

'Nice ... I really enjoyed that, just what I need ... Thank you,' she chuckled, wiping it down her trouser leg.

Stepping forward, she attempted to touch it. It shied away to begin with, not wanting to be stroked. So she waited, getting colder by the second. That's when she heard them, the moaners.

Lifting its head suddenly, the horse made a funny little chattering sound with its lips, as its ears spooked forward, twitching and turning. It didn't bolt, it stood its ground, its head still high, and its eyes focused on the interruption.

It sounded as though there were a few of them, and all heading their way. Maybe the horse was heard, or maybe it was smelt. Regardless of that fact, it didn't matter either way, it was still bad.

Rushing for the door, she almost crashed back through it. Her speed said it all, the way she tore around the place, trying to find the required thing.

Reg looked up, his glass in his hand. He spoke as she dashed around the room looking for it, with the door left to swing wide open.

'Lily, what's wrong, what's happened?' he hurriedly asked, as she spun on the spot.

'Moaners are coming, and the silly horse is still on the lawn ... I need a rope or something, so I can get it into the garage before they get here, it's the only way I can save it,' she gushed, looking for anything of use.

'On the hook, behind the door ... Scarves, take two and tie them together, quickly ... Hopefully that will work,' Reg suggested, thinking it a good idea, seeing as time was running out.

Doing as he suggested, Lily grabbed two and tied them to form one long one. With that in hand, she rushed back into the garden, heading for the horse.

Louder and louder it became, the moaning in the lane, as they grew nearer and nearer. Lily was okay, they didn't want her, what they wanted was some hot blood and a gutful of raw meat, that's what they were after.

Would he be caught? Would he, be damned. Around and around, they moved, as if doing a silly dance in the moonlight. The lasso of scarves would swing then miss, as Lily wasted more time trying to push him to shelter. In the end, they were almost on the doorstep, piled up against the tall back gate, the creaking as noisy as their droning.

It was Reg who saved the day, dear old blind Reg, with his knack for clever thinking.

'Right, forget the bloody garage, let's go with your first idea, as silly as it sounds,' was whispered from the open doorway. 'If this doesn't work, I'll feed me to them instead,' he chuckled, looking over at the pair of them, standing in the dark.

As Reg spoke softly in the horse's direction, its head turned his way.

'Yeah, that's it, steady as ya go ... Nice horsey, you want some, do ya? ... Well, here it is ...'

With the rest of its body following along behind, it plodded over towards the large bowl Reg was holding.

'Come on then, nice horsey ... And it's all yours ... Yes is it ...'

Lily watched in amazement as the horse walked towards Reg without a second thought. Stepping backwards, into the cottage, Reg led the horse into the front room to stand by the kitchen door.

'So, who was it that said, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink? ... Well, it will if it wants to, won't it?' Reg chuckled, still holding the water filled container, as Lily entered and closed the door behind her, leaving the moaners to wander away again.

'What about the mess on the floor in the morning?' she enquired, standing well away from the backend of it.

'Piddle and water we can mop off the stone floor, that's not a problem ... And the other stuff, well, cheer up, if nothing else you'll have the best roses in the country, won't ya?' he smiled, placing the bowl on the floor, so he could finally sit with his own drink again.

Lily took her refreshed glass from the table, watching their surprise guest supping at its leisure. When it had finished, it took a good look around the room, and then glanced at the girl behind.

'Oh, and it's a boy, by the way, just so you know,' Reg added, as a point of interest.

'Okay, a boy ... So, what should we call him ... We can't keep calling him Horse, that's rubbish,' she smiled, taking a seat at the table.

Reg sat and had a think, trying to remember the name of the horse he used to put a few pennies on as a younger lad. Putting his glass down, he smiled at the beast before him.

'Tolgus, that's the one ... A fine name for a fine animal ... Big winner in his day, he was, handsome chap too,' he grinned, raising his glass in a toast.

'Tolgus, yes, I like it, sounds very regal, and I hope he approves,' Lily smiled in reply, raising her glass to match, and watching the animal watching her. 'Should I bring some hay in for him? I still have a pile in the shed for the rabbits ... He might enjoy some before bed, but then again, he did just eat half my lawn ...'

'I think that would be a splendid idea, and if he needs a nap, he has the sofa to sleep on,' Reg replied, his face red from the heat of the brandy and the fire to his right.

'The sofa you say? Well, he'll have to fight me for it tonight ... I'm staying up here with him, just to make sure he doesn't munch anything he shouldn't be munching,' Lily smiled, putting her drink down and making ready for her trip to the shed.

'Okay, you get the couch then, but don't be too long ... He might miss you,' was sniggered from the other side of the beast, as Lily walked to the door.

'It's only the shed, it'll take five minutes, if that,' she chided, speaking over her shoulder with the door pulled open.

'Yes, if that ... How long did it take you to pick mushrooms, six hours? And then you came home empty handed ... So don't give me none of that five minutes malarkey, young lady, you get three, and that's all you get at this time of night ...'

'Blimey, you sound like my Granddad,' she remarked, on her way out.

'I hope I do, missy ... Just because you're on your own, doesn't mean you're all alone,' was then thrown through the door after her, as she stepped back into the night air.

'Yeah ... And that sounded just like him too,' was chuckled beyond the light, as she disappeared from view, the door closing behind her.

'Well, my boy,' Reg said to the horse, stood patiently before him, 'you are about to be rehoused by a blind old fool and a mad young thing ... Are you ready?'

The newly named Tolgus lifted his lovely face from his bowl, the excess water draining onto the stone floor by Reg's slippers. He shook his head several times, spraying droplets everywhere, his mane swinging free as it flicked from side to side.

'No, I didn't think so ... But, if you stick around, she might grow on you, she has me ... I don't know how, or why, but she has ... Lily's a funny creature, but special all the same ... Be kind to her and she'll be kind in return ... Oh, and don't eat her flowers anymore, or she'll end up eating you,' he chuckled, finally getting to stroke the long soft nose with its big dark eyes.

When it came to a major run out to a local town, it was all hands on deck. The usual crew pulled together, while Clare and Patsy stayed behind with all the kids. Using the army lorry, and the old estate, they would travel in two teams, one behind the other. On most trips it was okay, with light traffic and a quiet route there and back. But, there's always one trip that doesn't go to plan, and that trip was the Bridport run.

Although overcast, it wasn't raining. The dusty roads had been washed over in the night, leaving them tacky the next morning, and also a little greasy. The lazy sun would burst through, now and then, laying a line of light through the grey clouds, its reflection dazzling on the sea in the distance. The drive was nice, the air fresh and sweet, the banter light, and the jokes pretty awful.

Up front, in the army lorry, Arthur drove, whilst Pete and Cally rode shotgun. In the estate behind, Ravi drove, whilst Ed and Smithy kept him company. Nobody wanted Jake along, he was too much of a liability, so he was left in charge of the rabbits and chickens, those he couldn't get into any trouble, or at least they hoped he couldn't. Barricaded into the vast barn, there was no more escaping for him, now the full story had been told to all in the gathering room.

Pete had insisted it happen, to clear the air, as he put it. On the evening before their trip to Bridport, he wanted it resolved, just in case anything untoward should happen whilst the rest were away. Standing them before the adults only, they were asked to recall the events of that day. Jake, being the eldest, was asked to go first, which he did, and, by doing so, nearly started another bunker war.

When the younger child was dragged off him once more, the truth of the harrowing story finally came tumbling out. At this point Jake confessed to all, after being called a liar several times by a seething Billy, who was still in the struggling grip of his poor father.

On the journey to Bridport, the evening before was the main topic, and Arthur was told, on more than one occasion, how special Billy really was. With the gumption, strength, and willpower, of his father's bloodline, that boy would go far. As for the fourteen year old Jake, well, if he made it to sixteen he would be downright lucky.

Scooching through the pretty countryside, on the cliffs above the sea, was a wonderful way to watch the waves. The light danced, as it dropped through to take a peak, as the clouds reflected what glittering lingered there. High above, and balanced on the breeze, dove a hundred well fed birds, all with their lunch to be taken at leisure.

The morning had been slow, getting ready to leave a task in itself. Weapons and fuel, water, both for drinking and the vehicles, then the tool belts and masks, which were always a must, and first on the list. Final check came with the ladies and the kids, and Jake was in charge of the livestock.

Billy, well, he volunteered to stay with Sonny, because they could relate to each other. Though he was only small in comparison, Sonny had a lot going on in his head, things that didn't make sense, things he couldn't talk to his Mummy about. They weren't boy stuff, just strange, dreams mainly, of a pretty girl he didn't know. Sometimes she would try to talk to him, but he couldn't hear her properly, as though she were too far away. Other times, in the dark, he wasn't afraid, because there was someone there, someone in the shadows.

Pete looked over at Arthur, as they talked about his young son. Cally had already explained it from her side of the cliff. Seeing him there, like that, swinging with all his might, it was bordering on amazing. The way he grabbed one of them, stabbed in the head, and then tumbled it away from him, over the cliff's edge, it was almost poetic.

'I'm telling you, Art, that boy is a natural,' Pete chuckled, his eyes flitting from his friend back to Cally. 'She'll tell you, she saw it too ... Right there, like a little whirling blade boy, and the look on his face, his determination was incredible, really, it was ... Chop and gone, chop and gone ...'

'How many where there then?' Arthur asked, not taking his eyes off the road. 'He won't talk to me about it, but if he does he's reliving it again, isn't he? So, I can't blame the poor little sod, can I?

'I saw him take two down, and two where on him when we got there, but he did those as we ran towards him ... There was no stopping the kid, Art, he was in another world, and loving it,' Cally interjected, remembering the encounter as vividly as if it were the day before.

'Four ... He did four, and on his own ... Good lad,' his proud dad chuckled, looking to his friends and then back to the road. 'I'm right impressed with that ... Four, ya say ... Okay, well done son ...'

'Well, if nothing else, he's learning, pal, and ya can't deny it, he did learn from one of the best,' Pete laughed, glancing towards the sea and its shimmering light.

For a moment Arthur was laughing too. He stopped when he looked through his driver's side window, his eyes drifting the horizon before returning to the road ahead.

'... Losing his Mum, that did the damage, never been the same after seeing that ... Must have ripped the heart right out of the poor kid, watching her go like that ... We couldn't do anything, she was pulled away in a vast swell of it, gone in a second, changing with the crowd ...'

The cab was silent, a pin dropping too loud, just the roar of the engine, and a big breath or two.

'Uh-oh, we have ragbags to our right, heads up, crew,' Arthur chirped, watching them wander up the carriageway, across their path.

Cally dropped her window and hand signalled the car behind, so they knew what was coming. It wasn't usually an issue, seeing as the lorry had a homemade snowplough mounted on the front. Carving a way through, they would find little resistance. A herd heading towards the compound wasn't what they wanted, so they rammed most, but then stopped to finish the job by hand.

Silence again, except for the birds calling above, the thunder in the clouds of grey, and the meadows grasses shushing in the wind. Then there was just them, standing, looking around, wondering what had just happened.

How many? Too many, and more than enough to make the silence last longer, while they all took stock of the carnage. Covered in chunks and smears, they gobbed and spat their disgust away. Horror on the highway, leading towards that which only the good Lord knew.

'... About ten, but I'm not sure about that pile over there, it could be three, but, so far, I have only located two heads,' Ravi estimated, walking back to join the others.

Someone was being sick, he was concerned.

'Is that poor Cally? I feel for her, it is indeed a dire mess,' he said, turning to Pete, stood waiting by the lorry.

'... Ten, the bloody things, and near home turf too ... Has it emptied the town, do ya think, or do we face more of the rotten bast'ds? And, no, it's not Cally, it's Art, bless him ... There were three little kids, girls, I think ... He found it hard, had a close shave with one, but he's okay, it didn't get a taste, Cally sliced it in the head before it had a chance, so, it's all good, really ...'

'Arh, that is a relief,' Ravi sighed, 'because there is one lad I would not want to break that sort of bad news to, not in this life anyway, my friend ... Some boys need their fathers, and Billy is one such child ... Strong as he is, he would not take kindly to such news, that I do know ... Okay, so, the town, now that's a slightly different problem ...'

They knew where the area they wanted was located, they just had to get to where it was, set close to the river, and that's where the army had abandoned its supplies depot. If fuel was still available, they would need to transfer as much as they could, as quickly as they could. Time would be of the essence, and there was never much of that available anyway.

Laying the map out to study the town, Pete's index finger tapped the red circle. The target would be approached via the back roads, which they would turn onto from South Street. Right, then a left, would lead them along the back lane, thereby avoiding the main road entirely. The planning had taken time for a reason, plan it once and plan it well. Get it wrong and people lost their lives, it was that simple, and they only ever needed to learn that lesson once.

Pete became aware of the place when they were cutting back from a trundle over to Chard. In the beast it wasn't a problem, the journey relatively comfortable, and the trek quickly over. The base was well disguised, in its covering of pretend foliage, hanging from post and branch. Hidden within an area of trees, it covered a big plot, all hidden from view, so it seemed.

He saw it, right there, under an old chestnut, the shape that didn't make sense. His eyes were on it, twenty seconds, while his mind tried to work it out. All wrong to be created by Mother Natural, it was unnatural to say the least. Keeping that thought in mind, he stored it away for another day. Eventually it was located, after a rather hairy reconnaissance mission, undertaken by the ghostlike Ravi, who was in and done, with least amount of damage possible.

Pete was right, so that's where they were heading, that riverside, with its green leafy nets hanging from on high.

'... Then down this road, and right at the end, here,' Pete indicated with his finger, as his eyes checked to see if everyone was listening to him. 'I think we'll be able to get through there, missing the trouble on the main road ... Ed and Smithy, if you take out what comes from behind, Ravi and Art can concentrate on what's coming from the sides, Cally and I can take front lead, dealing with those that are lingering ... If it gets too much for us, we'll call on Ed, or Art, depending on who's suffering the least ... I don't want any large gaps between us, and if you see any guns, take then, ammo too, if there is any ... Okay, that's it ... Any questions?'

Thoughts were aired and problems queried and solved. There was always an answer, and if it was seen to be impossible to reach, then they would leave it. Why risk everyone for nothing, it was never worth the price of a life.

'So, everyone knows what they're doing ... Let's go take a look ... If the approach and surrounding area seems stable, we'll go in ... If anything feels wrong, speak up and we all pull back, no questions asked ... Art, if you could sweep the place with your sight first, I'd really appreciate it, pal ... And Cally, you stay close, I want you at my back at all times ... Okay, enough talking, let's get going, folks, it's nearly lunchtime ...'

Into town they drove, taking the usual route in. Well before hitting the main road, they turned left, leading them along and towards the river. A couple of turns later and they found themselves in a dead-end, facing a large space, half covered in trees. Pulling to a halt, they backed round, facing in the right direction for a hasty retreat.

Waiting a few moments was always a good idea. As Arthur breezed through, via his gloom, they readied themselves for what came next. Once everyone was happy, Arthur included, they climbed from the vehicles, having seen to the moaners in the vicinity.

'... Okay ... Same as before, stay together, anything seen, call it out ...'

Pete moved first, walking along with his machete in one hand and small hatchet in the other. All armed to the teeth, there were no words, just hand signals and pointing. Holding in a tight group, shoulder to shoulder, they stayed low, not wanting to be seen. Dark clothing helped, but they couldn't mask their aroma on the breeze and, on a slightly gusty day, it might be known to travel a short way away.

'Is there anything in them, Art?' Ravi asked quietly, looking over at the other man near the oil drums.

The reply was a quick shake of his head, meaning no. All of them, one after another, were empty.

Whilst they did that, Pete and Cally walked the prefab buildings, looking for items of use. Not much was found there either. No food storage, the larder being as empty as the drums.

Blankets, lots of blankets, and little else, was scattered throughout. There was a roomful of dusty uniforms, but no guns to go with them. Helmets a plenty too, and all in a neat little row, still awaiting the soldier's heads that would never arrive to wear them with pride. An office had been stripped, the maps and paperwork gone, and the cabinets rifled. Rubbish littered the floor, and it was very quiet.

Seeing them hiding there, they moved along to what vehicles still remained. Searching them, everything was dirty and forgotten, though one lorry's tank didn't sound so void of fuel.

'Hey ... Art ... Over here, chap ... We might be in luck,' Smithy whispered, waving to the man relieving himself by a tree.

'What, ya actually found some?' was whispered in reply, as his flies were raised and all was put in order.

And that was all they found worthy of taking. Though it wasn't much, it was syphoned off, into two and a half jerry cans, to be transported back to the lorry.

Cally ambled over to Pete, her face not impressed with their findings.

'So, no trip to the dress shops for me today then? I'm hurt ... And after the lovely birthday present I gave you, twice,' she smiled, as her eyes flitted around, watching and waiting.

'Cally, stop, please, someone might hear you,' Pete protested, putting his canteen of water away.

'Oh, Pete, don't ... They already know, love ... If your birthday didn't give the game away, nothing will,' she chuckled, watching Ed, Smithy and Arthur loading the fuel.

'Are we all done?' Ravi asked, walking over. 'There's nothing else here, that was it ... I did check through again, but they took everything and left nothing, as you can well see ...'

'Yes, Ravi, I think that's it ... Let's go, time's ticking on ...'

Turning towards the lorry, they saw them bleeding through the trees, a large group, almost chomping as they staggered. Cally, Pete and Ravi were cut off from the others, as a band of moaners became a slow tide through the space between them. As the group split in two, one headed for the lorry, and the other turned towards those stood by the netting.

Ed jumped into the estate with Smithy, leaving Arthur to take his usual seat in the beast. Leaning out the window, he shouted over at the other three, who were slowly backing away, their implements of doom at the ready.

'Get in the lorry we just syphoned, it's unlocked ... Jump in the cab and go for lock down ... I'll come there and get you ... Be ready,' Arthur shouted, just as the first few started attacking the lorry.

They turned and ran, heading back to the abandoned vehicles behind. Climbing into the raised cab, all doors and windows were locked and all weapons taken in hand. While they waited, they watched as the affected group grew around them, their moaning at fever pitch.

Clawing and banging to be let in, those that rotted on foot were as eager to be at those three as they, themselves, were to be gone. They watched as Arthur spun the big lorry, over a three-pointer, with its snowplough front and wired windows. Several were crushed in the process, there remains ground into the road or smashed against a wall. There might have been a slight jolt, maybe a bit of a bounce, but not much, the suspension correcting any unbalance.

As Ed and Smithy drove in the opposite direction, and away, Arthur crashed through the low wall and drove straight at the other lorry surrounded by moaners, six deep in parts.

Cally was squashed in the middle, sat with Ravi one side and Pete the other. If anything was getting through either doors or windows, they would have to get to the woman through them first. Ready for anything, the rescue mission beautifully implemented by Arthur was indeed that, a work or art, and incredible to watch.

Taking it slowly, and pushing or crushing as he went, Arthur snuck up, side to side, with his passenger door almost touching Ravi's driver's side. Putting his handbrake on, he scrambled over and wound the window down. He hand signalled to Ravi to do the same, and then grinned as he spoke across the divide.

'Well, look at that, I never thought I'd see you in a place like this ... Come 'ere often?'

With both windows dropped, there was enough of an access to move from one vehicle to the other. Cally went first, and gave Arthur a huge kiss for his hero's hello, and soon they were all in, ready to roll.

'Ha, well it worked, that's the main thing ... And you're welcome, it's the least I could do, anytime, really ... Oh, I told those two to get going, we'll meet them on the roundabout on the way back ... If they come across any issues, they'll make for home,' Arthur smiled, as they laughed their thanks, and crushed some more upon leaving.

Escaping what lay behind was an audible relief. You could hear it in the loud sighs, as it vanished away, into the side mirror and, off, into the delightful distance.

The estate car sat, waiting where he said it would be, parked on the bend. The cramped cab was okay, but Ravi said he'd join the others, giving them their space back. Flashing their lights upon arrival, they pulled up behind so Ravi could bail.

More moaners appeared, as the lorry started to pull away, soldiers and children, mixed in with the young and old. Wandering, with that lifeless stare, their opaque eyes seemed even more haunting when seen in the dull light of day.

'BALLS ... The car won't start ... The bloody car won't start ...'

Ed banged his palms on the steering wheel, as though it would bully it into firing up, as Smithy edged towards the lorry. Ravi had already waved them to stop, after Cally stuck her head out the window to see what was happening. Clocking what was behind them, the lorry sat, ticking over, on account of the situation. The car not starting again did not help one bit.

Ravi moved away as they moaned their way nearer. There was no point in staying to fight. Being outnumbered, threefold, was never a fight they could hope to win. They were good, but not that good. That was also asking a lot of the lorry, for there were many haunting the highway.

'... My friend ... It is time we leave, they are not thirty feet away and they are not happy today, it must be said ... Hear how they sound so sad ... Let us not make them happy by shedding our blood for their sake ... Let us be happy instead, and be gone, now ... Besides, you are only wasting precious petrol,' were Ravi's worried words, said through the window to Ed, still trying to start a flooded engine.

But he kept on, turn after turn, swearing and ranting, and banging some more, as Ravi backed away, slowly, drawing his beautiful sword. He would not put himself at risk, for his life was precious too. Looking at the tide, then back at the car, he smiled as he spoke.

'... Trust me on this ... Your horse is flogged, let it die in peace, and come away ... They are almost upon you, and you have little space to run ... Leave it ... Return another day, I beg you ...'

Ed climbed out, as the first staggered for the rear of the vehicle. One thrust to the head, and it went down, onto its knees, then face forward into the dirt. With that, he spun and ran after Ravi, as fast as he could, not looking back.

'... Oh, Christ, what about the car? ... All our stuff ... What do we do?' he shrieked, catching up and overtaking.

'... WE RUN, MY FRIEND ... WE RUN ...'

'... But what about the...'

'Leave it ... LEAVE IT,' Ravi hollered, racing for the lorry that crawled along, waiting for them to jump in. '... Ed, really ... It's not worth it ...'

So, it was left, to be buried in bodies, as they ran with their hearts in their throats, and with little else to show for their trip into town. They might return to claim it, they might not. With that sea of trouble, that road may never be travelled again, but, for the time being, no one really cared about the car left on the coast road, well, no one except Ed.

### PART 3

### Winner Takes All

Another glorious day demanded Lily's attention. Up with the lark, her housework was done while Reg still slept. Breakfast was had in the garden, with the horse for company, and a plan created, as she watched him eat the lawn. The garage was his new home, and it was nice for him to wander around the grounds as he liked, and all set within high gates, wall and hedgerow, nice and safe.

Although he had let her get close, close enough to sort his wounds, even, she still hadn't take to trying to ride the animal. Some would say he wasn't one of the prettiest beasts, but he was one of the only beasts, and that made him very special, if only in Lily's eyes.

No one would ever hear his life story, a tale that must have been sad for the outer scars he carried. Dark eyes watched, and twitchy ears listened, but there was plenty going on in that big old head of his. Tolgus would let them near, but not too near, he liked his space, and he wanted to keep it that way. Toleration was the name of the game, and as long as he was able to uphold that, they were having a good day.

They had taken short walks together, out into the meadow, once round them home again. He seemed content to do that, tagging along as if a really big hound. Though he enjoyed the stroll, once spooked, he would be flying back, through the gate, straight into the garage. Some days were better than others, and if it was raining, then forget it, he wouldn't go, plain and simple.

Unbeknown to Tolgus, Lily had been slowly fashioning a nice head harness and reigns from a collection of leather belts and old tack she found in a house on the high road. Codding it all together, sewing it with thick wax cotton through the holes already made, it came together, piece by piece. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it would do. The other thing needed was a saddle, but there just no creating one of those from what was left to be found.

Getting the harness on was easy. As she lifted it to his face, the bit slid between his teeth, as though they'd practiced it a million times already. So far so good, and then leading him around, that was fine too. Next came the hardest part, the getting on and staying on bit.

Walking out into the warm sunlight Reg took the seat nearest the door, he was waiting for the kettle to whistle for him.

'See, it worked fine, didn't it? I said it would,' he remarked, speaking of the harness idea. 'You don't give yourself enough credit sometimes ... You're brighter than you think you are, my girl, you need to remember that sometimes,' he chuckled, hearing them together, as they stood by the hedge.

'Yeah, it did, and I am rather impressed, if I say so myself ... Does the trick, and isn't too shabby in the making either ... Reckon I deserve a fresh cuppa for that, don't you, Tolgus?' Lily giggled, patting the horse's head as he turned to look Reg's way.

'Yes, sorry ... Morning, Tolgus, I trust you slept well?' Reg smiled at the animal watching him.

The big head bounced up and down, as though to confirm he had, and then he returned to his munching, his greeting complete.

Off Reg trotted to make fresh tea, to be taken in the garden, on a sunny morning near the sea.

'How do I do this then?' Lily asked, watching Tolgus from where she sat on the patio.

'What, get on him? With a lot of time and heaps of patience, I expect ... Don't hope for an instant resolve, you'll not get one ... Not with that beast, there ...'

Resting back into his chair, Reg spoke, as he took in the lovely calm day, and his tea cup was filled for him.

'Well, I'll need something to sit on when I'm up there, so maybe trying a blanket across his back first ... Might that help, do you think?' was a good idea, and Reg expressed his thoughts.

'Yes, have a go, see what happens ... No harm in throwing a blanket over him, that can't hurt him, can it?' he grinned, looking up from his tea.

In she went, to steal the thick one from the back of the sofa, in hope it could be enough under her bony bum. Walking to where the horse stood grazing, with his new patchwork reins looped over a branch, she raised the red throw and dropped it across his spine. He flinched away, not happy with that sudden weight gain, but he calmed down after a few seconds, as his mind slid back into his stomach again.

'Okay ... That wasn't too scary, was it?' Lily said to Tolgus, as he ripped at the lawn, chunk at a time.

Looking over at Reg, who pulled a funny face quickly, she took the leather lead from the branch, to walk him towards the garden bench. Pulling him up, alongside, she stepped up and looked at Reg over the horse's back.

'Right ... I'm gonna go for a layover and not a sit on to start with, just to make sure he's happy with what I'm doing ... See how he feels about this then,' Lily chirped, lifting herself slightly to place a little weight across the ridge before her.

Tolgus stepped away from the bench, not eager about the new arrangements, his white eye showing as he clocked a sideways glance. Stopping, the noise he made received a chuckled from Reg, sat facing them.

'Ooh, he's not happy about that, is he? I can hear him complaining from here,' he almost laughed, finishing his first cup and stretching for the pot.

Taking her time, she went through it, time and again, until it changed. On what was getting to be one of her final attempts, he didn't shift and he didn't drift, he stayed put, looking round at her. Without thinking about it, she jumped up and slung a leg over, resting into position, with the blanket still in place.

'Wow, it's a long way down, Reg, but the view over the hedge is great from up here,' Lily laughed, looking around her, sat up on high.

'So, walk him around a bit, then, use your heels in his sides, that'll move him on, then pull back on the reins when you want to stop ... And, hopefully, he will,' Reg chuckled in reply, adding more tinned milk to his cup of tea.

Doing as Reg suggested, her heels lightly touched his side so he stepped forward, walking towards the garage.

'You're still on, so that's wonderful ... Turn him, that's it ... See, you're getting there ... Well done, both of you ...'

Having mastered that, Lily wanted to go further afield, and beyond the safe garden.

'Is that wise?' Reg questioned, 'you've only just sat on him and paced around the drive, you haven't cantered or galloped ... And you don't have a proper saddle either ... Really, I don't think it would be wise, not yet, Lily ...'

Reg aired his thoughts, and Lily would either take them or leave them, depending on how brave she felt that day.

Checking beyond the gates, and down the dead-end road, using her dark-side, all was quiet, very quiet. Returning to Reg and Tolgus, she had decided on her day. With a quiet village, and all that open countryside, there was no way she was going to stay put.

Reg couldn't stay to be a part of it, his worry enough to drive him inside to sit in the kitchen and shuck peas. Leaving them to it, he didn't want to see what they might be riding into, so turned away, and closed the door, as they closed the high gate behind them.

They walked north, up through the village and out the other side, onto open meadows. It ran for miles, across the main road for Bridport and further still, all the way to Symondsbury. The land was empty, with just a few shifters seen, but not near enough to be worried about. Her knife was tucked in her belt, as usual, so she was armed if things did turn nasty. At least they could gallop away from trouble, another thought that was appealing, even though Lily thought she may not stay mounted.

Tapping her heels to his sides picked the pace up a little. Bouncing along to a trot was quite uncomfortable, until she found the horses rhythm and went with it. After that, everything changed. Once their timing was synced, Lily found it wasn't a hard task to stay on, and she found she enjoyed it, racing with the wind through her hair, riding bareback across the open fields.

Upon reaching the main road, they crossed it, with its patches of grass pushing up through the tarmac where it had cracked. Tolgus's hooves were the only sound heard, that was it, along with the bird song. It was lovely and quiet, just them and the road.

Thundering along another path, the village came into sight. Something else did too, and it wasn't right, it wasn't right at all.

Pulling Tolgus to a halt, just at the welcome sign, Lily jumped down, and looked along the road leading in. There were bodies, two, wearing army uniforms, and they were very dead. Remembering the group from the shop, she thought of the soldier boy in the shop, as she walked towards them spread eagle in the dirt.

There wasn't much left of one of them, the other just as badly damaged. With their faces missing, there was no way of recognising them, not like that. A puddle of red and brown spread out from them, and even Tolgus didn't like that smell. Looking at one of their belts, she saw the revolver, tucked in its leather pouch. Pulling it free, she stuffed it in her bag, along with the five spare bullets she found.

Sinking into her dark-side, she drifted through, looking for the others, hiding maybe. There were moaners, lots of moaners, but not any army, not alive anyway. It told her to go no further, that feeling in her gut. With nothing else to see, there was no point in going any further, and the ride home was a journey in itself.

Turning in the lane, Lily looked for something to mount up with, but what was there, nothing? No, a five bar gate, just there, that would do the trick. Taking those few paces didn't seem as though it was a big deal, but it was, as the horse's hooves made noise, and that would always travel on a breeze.

From both ways along the lane, and at the same time, they appeared, eight one way, and about twelve the other. In their usual miserable manner, they staggered towards Lily and Tolgus. No time to get to the gate, they were nearly upon them, and no way he could jump it to escape. Panic started to set in, panic over Tolgus's safety.

Thinking she might be able to tackle the least amount, she turned towards the eight. If she could break through them, the horse could at least make a run for it, thereby making a quick escape. Her, they didn't care about, it was all about Tolgus.

Standing her ground, trying to hide him behind her small frame, she waited for them to reach her. Nearer and nearer, they drew, as their mournful sound built enough to drown out the pulse rushing in her ears. Coming together, as one mass collective around the pair of them, Lily thought he was done for, but a strange thing happened, one she wasn't expecting.

They completely ignored him and kept walking, crossing paths, and little else. The moaners bumped into them, as they often did her, but they took no notice and never once looked at the horse or its new owner. It was as if there weren't there, standing in the crowd, waiting for the storm to pass.

As they staggered off in their different directions, off to find something a little more exciting, Lily watched with pure amazement on her face. When it was peaceful again, she looked around at the quiet horse stood there, munching on the hedgerow.

'Tolgus, seems we're two of a kind, you dark horse, you,' Lily smiled, hugging his broad neck. 'You're so full of surprises, aren't you? Wow, I reckon that makes you worse than Reg ... Come on, let's go home ... I don't like this place anymore ...'

She led him to the gate, and climbed up. Getting comfortable, they headed for home, not looking back at the soldier's bodies, butchered and left there, sprawled in the road.

'If you put the chickens over there, you'll have more room for more rabbits ... There's always room for more rabbits, Jake, you know that!' Smithy chuckled, cleaning his butcher's knife off with a cloth and clean water.

The pair of them had been busy all morning, tidying up the barn and putting supplies in order. Jake had rotated the pens to a cleaner patch of dirt floor, and the chickens had been mucked out and their eggs collected. Smithy had butchered enough meat for a few days, and there were eight big eggs to take down, which was always a nice surprise for the kitchen crew.

It was warm in the big space, pleasant to work in, and a change to being below. Jake liked it in the barn, and never dared to wander again, his lesson already learnt. Working with Smithy was easy going, he wasn't a grouch, and he even knew a few funny jokes too. The big man could handle large items as they were small items, and Jake thought he was a good man, a kind man, one that would always be a true friend.

He was running low on hay, which wasn't a good thing, because that meant a trip into the great outdoors. Jake didn't think much of the great outdoors anymore, and preferred to experience it from inside the great big barn. As time passed, that was all the 'outdoors' Jake really needed, up there, with the livestock. Trouble was, that livestock needed hay, and that was located on the outside, and that was not a nice thought.

'... Damn ... I need more bedding ... I've just checked the shed and there won't be enough, so I'll need some before then ... I have to think of tomorrow too ...'

Jake spoke as he wandered over to join Smithy by his butcher's bench. He was washing it down at the time, making sure it was spotless as usual.

'... Arh, now that's a bit of a ball breaker ... Going out there, don't fancy that, do you?' he smiled, as Jake rested against the table behind him, the one with his collection of sharp knives laid out on it.

Jake looked down at them as he spoke, not wanting to touch something that looked that deadly.

'No, I don't ... Should I see Pete and Ed about it ... Maybe they'll do a quick trip for me the same as last time ... What are my chances?' Jake grinned in reply, looking from the shiny clever up at the big man stood before him.

'You can but ask ... That's all I'll say ... Can't you make what you have left stretch?' Smithy queried, drying his bench down with a clean towel, his attention to hygienic detail quite impressive.

'Nah ... Not between the six pens, each holding how many hutches each? ... That's asking a bit much of it, Smithy,' the boy grinned back, trying to make the quantity work in his head, but it just wouldn't.

'Okay, well, before you go dragging those from below away from what work they're currently undertaking, maybe we should take a quick look to see if the coast is clear ... If it is, maybe we can grab enough to see you, and your livestock, through another night ... You think we can manage that between us, lad?' Smithy suggested, wiping his hands dry and turning to face the youngster behind.

'Only if we check first ... I'm not going anywhere if they're within view in any direction, don't you worry ... But if we can grab some, it would make all the difference,' Jake surmised, scratching his head.

One particular addition to the barn was a platform, constructed from various materials, that ran an upper walkway all around the top of the inside wall. This gave them a viewing point through cut away sections of the barn's outer skin. These random openings were perfect for checking the surrounding landscape for crusty creepers, which was another of Arthur's wonderful ideas.

Up the ladders they climbed, right to the top, where they walked the planks to the window above the side door. Standing, almost leaning from it, their eyes scanned all over, left and right, only to see an empty meadow.

'So,' Smithy chirped, looking across the green and gold space outside, with the sun beating down, and the air sweet with the scent of meadow flowers, 'if you stay behind me, we'll both grab a small sickle each, then go reap a large sack full and get back here on the double ... If you don't mess about, we should be finished before tea break, how does that sound?'

Clare, his wife, was cooking in the communal kitchen, whilst the kids played with dough, making shapes of animals to dry and paint later. Maybe he could pick her some wild flowers while he was there, she would like that.

Down they went, and off to the gardening shed that held the required tools. Pulling one each, from their hanging spaces, they grabbed the two large sacks to be stuffed at speed. Releasing the chain, and opening the side door, Jake was instantly sent back to a time before.

'I'm not sure I should be doing this ... What if they come while we're out in the middle of that? How will we get back in time?' Jake almost whispered up at Smithy, his eyes on the verge of watering.

'Trust me, lad, we won't be out in the middle of that, first dry stone wall and that's it ... You did the same looking as me, did you see anything other than a lovely day and a field full of dry grasses waiting for our attention?'

'No, but it doesn't mean to say they're not there, waiting for us ...'

'Jake, if you're not ready for this, say so, and I'll chain the door shut, it isn't a problem, really ... Let the livestock wait, they have till now ...'

Jake took a big breath, as he looked away from Smithy, and out into the glorious sunshine. He swallowed loudly, his courage slowly growing.

'I can do this, I'm ready ... I am,' he smiled, trying to seem as brave as he was trying to sound, whilst looking at the sharp implement in his right hand.

Eyes in all directions, now or never, door closed behind as they ran for it, making for the meadow's entrance. The sickles flashed as they flew, the bags filled in record time. Crushing it down, they rammed as much in as they could, just so the trip was worth it. When they were finished, Jake hurried for the door, throwing his bag in and onto the earth floor.

Waiting for Smithy to catch him up, he watched and checked, side to side. What was he doing, picking flowers?

'Come on, hurry up, you big daisy,' Jake teased from the opening, 'and don't take all day about it, we're missing our elevenses ...'

Jake should never have called from the door, not that loudly anyway. Until then, neither of them had said a word, they had only used hand signals.

They heard, and followed, as they always do, about thirty of them, staggering the road from Bridport to Weymouth, and all turning their heads in the same direction at the same time. Another ten or so wandered the cliff path, taking the slightly more scenic route. They also heard, and split off in their own way, heading through the scrub, up and over the rise. Some stragglers trekked the path around Manor House, then found a way through the hedgerow, their dead skin peeled away by the prickly foliage.

Smithy gathered his large bouquet of wild blooms, the blooms an array of pastel colours against their bright green leaves. The armful had taken too long, but it was easy for the minutes to flutter by, when crouched with the sun to your back, daydreaming of happier times.

Jake had put his sack over by the chicken shed, and then returned to the door, to see three moaners making their way towards a stooped Smithy, who had his back to them.

Turning at the sound, another six appeared from the left side of the barn, as a gang of them moped down the incline on his right.

'... SMITHY ... BEHIND YOU ...'

Grabbing the sickle he had dropped inside the door, Jake started swiping at the nearest three. He had no choice, and hadn't really thought about doing what he did, he just did it. Remembering the way Pete had shown him, he swiped and slashed, side to side, and always at head height. Taking the face off an old woman nearly made him heave, but he kept going, fighting where he stood.

The flowers were dropped as Smithy jumped to his feet and turned, just as two were almost upon his. With another ten behind, he needed to reach that door and get it closed. Slicing them down, he belted towards Jake and the battle he was undertaking, trying to keep the side door clear.

'IN ... RUN ...'

Smithy's words were shouted at Jake, as he hammered three more upon reaching the lad. Almost pushing the boy over, the big man spun on the spot to tackle those behind. More arrived, causing a bottle neck at the door, which pushed and drooled right in their faces.

'Back, Jake ... BACK, NOW...'

Squeezing themselves into the barn, through the half open door, they tried to close it behind them, but the pressure on the other side was too much. There were too many of them, and there was no way they could hold that quantity back.

Eventually, Smithy went down, his feet slipping on the dirt beneath them. With no grip against the tidal force, it was pushed wide by the crush outside, their cascade to follow.

And, so, they came, flooding in, a two by two line, falling and crawling, their sound, bone chilling. Crunching and gnashing, they tumbled the space to reach their prize. White sighted monstrosities pushed and pulled, trying to get in, trying to get a grab or snatch a piece.

Wedging it there, in hope the door might stay in place, Jake ran to save the livestock so it wouldn't be lost. As he threw rabbits into boxes at a rapid pace, then chicken too, to go below, Smithy was hacking and chopping, holding back more with the ones that had gone down. There breeched through eventually, but there was just enough time, just enough.

'... Jake, get below ... NOW ...' Smithy bellowed, turning to watch the kid move with purpose.

From one side two more appeared, their focus on the man stood holding his axe. They went down, one after the other, their head wounds inflicted without a second thought. Then there were more of them, five, ten, twenty, the number growing, the noise getting louder in the big empty space.

'I'll get help,' Jake screamed, locking the inner fence, before stumbling down the steps.

All of hell tumbled forth with more falling in, the stream a constant flow, too many to deal with at once, and all alone.

In his efforts to save the others, Smithy had cut himself off. He heard their shouts, as Ed, Pete and Ravi came running up to his rescue. Reaching the fence, they fumbled with the padlock, trying to open the gate Jake had just locked.

He was cornered with no way out. His only option was to get the moaner's attention, thereby detracting them away from the others. Sadly, by doing so, he rendered himself cut off from the rest of the compound, as he shouted and waved his arms.

'... HEY ... OVER HERE ... OVER HERE ...'

Pete, Ravi and Ed watched in horror, as Smithy was encircled by the rotting flesh of the moving affected. Their clawing hands reached out, ready to take hold, their sound almost deafening. He made it as far as the ladder, hoping to climb it, at which point he was lost in the crowd, his screams heard as he went down.

Pete ripped at the chain, but Ravi's strong hand stopped him from opening it.

'Don't, Pete ... It would be suicide out there, my friend ... He is lost ... We are too late ...'

Having some time alone was sometimes a good thing for Reg. Lily would be off, doing whatever, with Tolgus, or walking the cliffs or the beach, so it gave him a chance to be able-bodied again. His chores he did with a minimal amount of disaster. He washed and dried cups after breakfast, and then cleaned down as best he could.

Lunch on the lawn was nice. Though it wasn't sunny, it was warm, with a salty soft breeze off the sea. No moaners to be worried about, there were none in the area, that, he already knew. He pottered here and there, did some weeding in the vegetable patch, and then swept the front room through just to make it seem a little cleaner. That was the morning finished with, into the afternoon then.

Forty winks after lunch, was a nap worth having. Slipping into a snore, Reg was more than comfy in the old chair by the fireplace. With his blanket, to keep the chill off his legs, he could drift away for just a while, safe in the knowledge he might not be disturbed. Only he was, and rather rudely too, as it happens. It was as if someone stood before him with a torch shining in his eyes, right up close. When he opened them, he wished he hadn't.

'... I remember you, Reg ... And you are of great interest to me ...'

Looking up at the woman, floating before him, he blinked several times, as though it helped. Closing his eyes he found she was still there, and still as ghostly as when they were open. He couldn't speak, not a word, his throat closed from fear of seeing an apparition in the house.

'Leave me alone, it's bad enough when I see you in my dreams, you don't have to haunt me in the day too,' he croaked, pulling the blanket up to his chin, trying to hide. 'Anyway, what are you after now? Don't you think I should be here? Well, I am, so you can go...'

'Now, now, don't be like that ... Just because I caught you out once, there's no need to be a sore loser,' soothed the voice, as she looked down at him. 'The girl ... She is of interest to me too ... She also holds a light, but a shadow hides it sometimes ... What do you know of that?'

'Nothing, so go away ... You waste your time here, she's told me nothing because she knows nothing, the same as I ... Be gone, before I say the Lord's prayer, aloud, to vanish you away.'

Still hiding behind his blanket, Reg watched as the figure swayed before him, softly surrounded by her bright light.

'Now, Reg, you know that won't work on me, your foolish old man ... I am beyond such things, here, on my side ... You can't touch me ... Here, there is little that can,' she crooned, smiling in that slow way, with her eyes as clear as the night sky.

With that thought in mind, he lifted from his seat, scarpering for the kitchen and the door to the cellar. Reg hobbled through it and down, towards the space below. Beyond the wall, in the metal room, where whatever it was up there couldn't reach him, he slammed the thick steel door shut behind him.

Backing away, he moved into the gloom, happy knowing he would be safe for a while. Sitting on the dinning chair, he rested to take a breath. Silence again, just him, and his heart's pace eventually slowing.

There was no need to switch the standard lamp on. Lifting his eyes to where he had just entered, the metal slowly glowed as if heated by lava. Holding its form, a shape emerged through it, becoming the thing he had been trying to escape. Wide eyes watched as the light built to be that of a hundred full moons, all as explosive as the next.

Almost falling off his seat, Reg staggered away towards the end, towards the edge. Sweat started to trickle, as his eyes, open or closed, were filled with that form, the brightness enough to white out his sight, rending him blinded both ways.

The figure came to rest before him, her glow filling the space with a light so bright it produced a heat all if its own. Her silver eyes never left his face, as he crammed himself into an empty corner.

'Who are you, and what do you want from me?' he almost wept, his fear edging him towards a breakdown.

'... I am, The One True Light ... And you have a secret ...'

His quaking continued as she hovered there, never once touching down. Her long blonde hair floated as if loose on a current, whether in water or wind, they were both the same. A face, so beautiful it could break a heart just by looking at it, smiled down at the scared little man.

'... You are anxious,' she crooned, with a voice as sweet as the skylarks at dawn. 'You have no need to be ... Only the shadows fear me ... Please, out from your corner, there are things to tell, and my time is limited ...'

Reg tentatively moved from his hiding place, and moved to the seat he'd previously occupied. The light moved away, giving him some space, not wanting to hem him in. Taking her glow down a few notches, she came to rest on the arm of the sofa, just across from him. Once comfortable, she smoothed out the moonbeams in her gown, and crossed her long legs.

Reg, as petrified as ever, could see her as if his sight had always been there, her vision was so clear. When he closed his eyes, she was still there, still smiling. That was when he finally realised, and he couldn't deny it, there really was no escaping the woman.

'So,' she continued, 'we have much to discuss, you and I ... Where shall we start?' the Light smiled, looking over at the old man before her.

There was a funny static in the air, as though highly charged particles collided and crashed into each other. It came with a sinking feeling, slow and draining. It might have been the colour from Reg's face, but he was unable to tell. Holding his breath, he swallowed before he finally spoke.

'... You say I have a secret, what secret's that then?' he tried to smile, his face seeming ageless, as the sweat tripped and trickled a little more.

Was that from the nearness of her, or had he something else to hide? As the silence continued, so did the trickling, and their glance didn't break from each other's in all that time, not once.

The day they buried Smithy was a good day. The sun was kind, the sky blue, and the surrounding area quiet, for a change. They dug a trench, big enough to take the ammunitions case, over near the opening to the lower meadow, where he would rest in peace, looking out to sea. It was a sad day, in that respect, but at least it didn't rain.

Clare had not seen what was in the case, for there was not much left to see. Cally had explained a little of the damage done, but didn't go into any real detail, as knowing them would not make it any better for her.

Baby Sarah and little Jack stayed below, with Patsy and Sonny, and were not aware of what was happening above. Jack had asked where his daddy was, and Clare had explained the best she could, using gentle words she hoped he would understand. That alone was the saddest of tasks to uphold, one she just about managed, before the flood of tears came. Saying the words made it real, and hearing them was the tipping point.

Once lowered into his place of rest, Ravi spoke kind words for the friend they had all lost. Remembering his loyalty and love for his family raised a few tears, along with his fond memories of his laugh and his awful jokes.

'... There are many very happy times recalled with my good friend, Mister Harry Smith, moments that I will never forget ... I remember when he, and his lovely family, first arrived here ... They had suffered so, losing people along the way ... The first thing he did, after shaking my hand, was tell that old joke about the lion and the giraffe ... I will not tell it now, for I could not tell it in the way he could ... But that memory is mine, and I will treasure it, through all my days left on earth ... Clare, your husband was a very special soul, his fight is now at an end, he is finally free ... Rest in peace, my friend ... Save me a joke for when I see you next ...'

Ravi dropped his soil onto the case, down into the deep hole, and then turned away, his face trying to show the smile he felt inside.

Each of them said a few words, Clare couldn't, her's would come at a later date, when her insides were no longer screwed up and churned into a ball of grief. Her soil landed along with everyone else's, hitting the lid to cover it a little more.

Cally had picked wild flowers, a huge bunch of them, which she dropped in on top, along with her dirt. Turning, with huge tears in her eyes, she re-joined Clare and stood with her, holding her hand, showing her she cared, showing her she was there and hurt too.

Pete and Arthur filled it in, patted it flat, and then placed more flowers over the disturbed patch. The brown looked so new against the green grasses, strange and out of place, as though it was dropped there by chance. It was a patch that was wrong, and was not meant to have Smithy sat beneath it. He should be over there, burning the heap of affected, in the way he always did, and getting his hands dirty, by pulling his weight, the same as ever.

All left that spot, all accept Jake. He hurt more than all the others, feeling he was somehow responsible. His sorrow was a tide of guilt, as deep as that sea over there, the one Smithy now looked out over. Standing with his face in his hands, his tears rolled, his sobs not hidden.

If there had been bodies to kill, he could have killed them again and again, over and over, just like they had the man in the box. Jake hated those mutants with every sinew of his body, and he decided he would start the fire of the dead, just for Smithy, just for his friend.

In an area to one side, where the ground had already been scorched back to soil, an indent held the parts of those that Smithy and he had butchered that day. Others had been added, the ones cleared from around, and inside, the barn, after the event. Stacked about four feet high, the smell alone was enough to make him angry, his sorrow feeding the sensation as his gut reacted to it.

Instead of being sick, as usual, he turned away, heading for the barn. Dragging the big axe from the tool shed, Jake walked back out to the pile of corpses, and stood before it.

'... You stinky, slimy, murdering sacks of stagnant sewage ... I hate you ... I HATE YOU ...'

And, so, it started, the swinging, the hacking, the kicking and the stamping. It was one way to get it out of his system, and a great way to expel some of his pent up anger. Beating the dead to death seemed a waste of energy maybe, but to have that release, to let it go, and send that axe flying, well, it was enough, enough for Jake.

'Whoa, there, lad, you'll hurt yourself if you drop that wrong,' came the words from behind him, just as he was about to decapitate another one.

It was Arthur.

'You okay there, Jake, getting it out, are ya? Looks like you're on a mission. Wanted to do some damage?' he half smiled, walking over to where the teenager stood, splattered in brown mush.

'Yeah, something like that ... I needed to get it out, to stop it driving me crazy ... Smithy, he saved me ... He saved my life ... But ... I, I ... I couldn't save his ...'

Upon finishing his words, Jakes tears started again, his emotions in tatters, much like those bits and pieces that lay at his feet.

'Lad, you couldn't have saved him, don't you see that?' Arthur soothed, stepping nearer the distraught kid. 'Don't be so hard on yourself, Jake, we all know you did all you could ...'

'But it wasn't enough though, was it? I chopped and chopped, and I tried and tried, but I still couldn't save him, could I? ... I still couldn't save him ...'

As Jake finished his sentence, he lifted that axe and swung it, as hard as he could, down and into the next head in the heap.

And still the silence hung around them, after he had pulled the blade free from the crushed skull.

'So ... You wanna help me burn the skanky ragbags, or what?' Arthur then asked the youngster, as the kid rested onto the handle of his large chopping tool.

'Do I want to help you burn them? ... Hell, yes, I wouldn't miss that for the world,' Jake grinned, wiping the tears from his cheeks, and looking over at the man who had the petrol can and box of matches at hand.

Arthur chuckled as he smiled, 'Okay ... So, would you like the honours then?'

With a slightly happier look on his face, Jake turned, saying, 'It would give me great pleasure to torch this pile of rotten garbage ... Shall we get some spuds wrapped too ... They can do us some jackets while they're at it ... That would be nice of them, wouldn't it?' he half smiled, taking the can and doing the dowsing.

It's good to walk. Whilst Tolgus was happy doing his thing in the yard, Lily invited Reg out for an amble to the seashore. Taking it carefully, they headed for the coastal path that led them down to the beach. Once there, a blanket was placed over the one small patch of sand so Reg could sit and hear the world around him, whilst Lily paddled and looked for shells.

A fishing line was cast out in hope that something might catch the bait, but they cared not if they caught nothing, it was the escape that mattered most. No roamers fell from above or wandered below the cliffs, though a few tattered carcasses sat in a heap, having taken a tumble in the dark most probably. Having their heads stoved in upon impact, their time on earth was over, no more roaming for them. Taking in the fresh, sweet air was enough of a bonus, and with no one to spoil their view, their moments on the beach were enough to blow the cobwebs from their minds.

'Have we got anything yet?' Reg enquired, with his face to the watery sunlight and his eyes closed.

Turning in the shallow tide Lily replied with a giggle, 'No, not yet ... Maybe we should have used that tinned ham instead ... Maybe they don't like carrot, Reg ...'

Another shell was seen and retrieved, wiped dry down her skirt and then pushed into a pocket.

'Fish are so fickle, Lily, they'd turn their noses up at prawns, if we could find them ... Never mind, it was a nice thought anyway ... Being down here, like this, it's worth it for the walk back up those steps, as steep as they are,' the old boy replied, smiling in her general direction.

'Well, we have rabbits ... Looks like stew again tonight ... If you don't mind more rabbit,' was then replied, as Lily walked the beach back to the blanket.

Sitting down next to Reg, she listened to the sounds around them, the calm whooshing of the waves, and the birds calling from above.

'When I was a young lad my Dad used to take me fishing down to the old canal off Bourbon Street ... Those were the days ... Sat talking about silly stuff and what I wanted to be when I grew up ... I used to relish days like those ... Long, hot summers when there wasn't a care in the world ... Well, not until the war started, then it all changed, and for everyone,' he recalled, trying not to sound too sad for those lost days of his youth.

'You were in the army, weren't you, Reg? ... Is that what you wanted to do as a kid?' Lily asked, taking their packed lunch from the basket to be spread before them.

It was never a grand affair, what with the limited rations, but the thought was there, along with the nice bottle of white wine Lily had found in some old abandoned shop.

'Yeah, I was in the army, through both wars, but I never wanted to join up ... Only did it to make my old Dad proud ... Don't know why I bothered, he never lived to see me in my uniform,' he sadly replied, his face dropping a little at the memory.

Opening the wrapped rabbit pieces, Lily looked over at the aged man beside her, her face changing along with his.

'Oh, Reg, what happened? Was he lost in the Boer War?' she enquired, laying some meat on a tissue so as to sit it in his lap where he could find it.

'Nah, he didn't die in that war ... He was injured in it, lost a leg but survived ... Sadly, he had demons haunting him when he got back ... Saw all his pals cut down before him, and couldn't live with the thought that they all died and he lived ... Well, he took it in the end, his own life ... Hung himself in the old orchard ... I found him, the day before I was shipped out ... Maybe he couldn't live with the thought of losing me too, so he ended the misery ... Arh, a day I'll never forget, God rest his tortured soul.'

Lily's eyes had filled with tears as she listened. Such a story was enough to lift salt water into her vision to blur it. Leaning over, her arms rose to rest around the old boy's shoulders, the hug her way of saying sorry.

Reg's old hand lifted to pat her cold arm, his eyes nearly as misty.

'Now, now, don't be going all soft on me, girl ... We made it this far, so it's not all bad, is it?' he crooned, letting his hand rest there to squeeze a little, and show he cared the same as she.

Looking towards the rolling tide, Lily saw movement on the line.

'... Reg ... I think they like carrot ...'

Jumping up from their quiet spot, she rushed for the rod and reeled it in. Not much of a catch, but a catch all the same.

'Look ... Oh, sorry, keep forgetting ... We got one, about a foot long and flapping for dear life ... No rabbit tonight but fish stew instead ... So, no, it's not all bad, is it?' she chuckled, walking back to the seated man on his blanket, the silver sea lover as scrawny as they come.

'Fish stew, sounds delightful ... Just make sure you clean it properly ... I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste ... Now, that would be a shame,' he smiled, finishing his glass of wine, his eyes glancing up towards the light stood before him.

Things had changed, and no one knew how to stop the flow once it had started. Since losing Smithy it was instant lockdown, with the rabbits down in a spare unit at the far end of the compound, along with all the chickens. No one wanted to venture out, not to see what was up there, lingering beyond safe doors, roaming the cliffs and meadow.

Eventually the stir-crazy became too much for one person, and he needed to do something about it, as a matter of keeping his sanity. Two weeks locked away, below, was enough for most men, so he had to do something about it, and soon.

A trip over to the village had been on the cards for a while. Arthur had wanted to take a drive out and check on the old boy, Reg, as he had promised before he left. Whilst there, he could collect extra supplies from the red ribbon houses, their larders ripe for plundering. Being out there, it would remind him why they did what they did, down there. They had become complacent, as they had found out in the hardest of sorrowful ways.

'I'm taking a drive over to see Reg, I said I would ... I could do with escaping for a while ... Fancy coming with me?' he asked Pete, his voice gently spoken across the space between them, sat in the communal kitchen.

Silence, there had been a lot of that lately. Most of the everyday noise seemed muted somehow, as if the volume had been turned down on life. It was still there, in fits and spurts, but it wasn't the usual chaos across the compound, it was different, held back a little maybe.

'... Urh, yeah ... I can do ... You want me to grab Cally and Ravi, and the four of us go, maybe leave Ed here with the women and children?' he half smiled, looking up from one of Billy's comics.

'Yeah, can do ... And ... I want to take Billy too ... I think he's ready for it now ... What do you think?'

Arthur looked at the man he called friend, sat, with his own comic closing before him, as he put his empty mug to one side.

'If you think he's ready, Art, then he's ready ... I'm not his Dad, you are ... If anyone knows him, it's you ... I'm up for it, but will he feel the same? Have you asked him yet?' Pete replied, lifting from his seat to rinse his cup quickly.

'Urh, I was just about to ... I wanted to have a word with you first, before I did, just to make sure you were okay with it ...'

'I'm okay with it, Art, no problems here, and I can't imagine the others will mind either ... Go, have a chat, see what he says ... Until you say the words, you won't know, will ya?'

Pete stood in the doorway as he said his peace, his face pale in the strong light above. Seems no one had seen daylight for a while, and it was starting to show.

Parting at the junction, Pete went off to rally the crew, as Arthur headed round the complex in search of Billy. He was eventually located in the rabbit house, telling Jake how to do his job properly.

'... And don't leave that there ... They'll knock it over and make their bedding wet ... Put it over there, that's it, the other side of the door ... Yeah, just there ... See, better ... Oh, hi, Dad ... Just cleaning hutches out ... Because someone doesn't know how to do it properly ...'

Billy nodded towards the other boy, as he ordered him around. Things were almost back to normal between the two boys, but Jake had to work for it, and Billy, the clever lad, was making sure he did, and hard too.

'Hi, son ... Hi, Jake ... And is he bossing you around again?' he smiled at the lads, as they swept and mopped, and fluffed and faffed.

'Yes, Art, he is, I'm afraid, and a lot of it he does, too, might I add,' Jake grinned from where he held a large bundle of grey fur.

'... No, I'm not,' Billy protested, 'I only nag because I have to do it again after you say you've done, and you haven't ... You're so rubbish sometimes, Jake ... And don't try and deny it, you so know you are ...'

An argument nearly started, but Arthur stopped it before it got a little too heated. When their voices lifted to a certain pitch, he knew what was in the wind. Before it reached that stage, he butted in, shouting for their attention with that one word.

'... ENOUGH ...'

And it was. There was sudden silence, as quiet as the grave, just the rustle of bouncing bunnies, as they chased around their nice clean pens.

'... Billy, out, now ... I need to speak to you ... Jake, I'll see you later ... And one's got out, over there, so you better catch it ... Go on then, lad, look that way, not at me ...'

They talked at they walked, meeting the others in the kitchen.

Arthur asked, '... So ... Ya feel ready? No second thoughts?'

Billy smiled, 'No, Dad ... No second thoughts ... If I thought I couldn't handle it I would say so, really I would, believe me.'

'Okay, let's load and leave ... First we have to clear the barn, and I want you to stay back for that ... We don't know what's up there yet, okay?'

Billy looked at his dad with the eyes of his Mother.

'Yeah, Dad, I know ... No heroics, not today, I promise,' he smiled, moving towards the door after the others.

Ed was staying behind, their one man on the radio, at all times, when the crew was out. Pete felt better too, for Clare and the kids. Suddenly alone, left the way they had been, it was a story all too often told. With Ed there, everyone felt better, even Pete. He was a good man, and would protect the women and children with his very life, if need be, and Pete knew that too.

Above ground was a mess, remains were still spread across the floor, from one side to the other. Six moaners wandered the space, but were chopped down before they reached the inner fence. Dragging the dead garbage outside, to be burnt later, the missing door was found and reattached, using thick cable as well as the chain.

They drove towards the abandoned car, and turned left at the roundabout, heading west towards Watton. A little further on, and the next left turn appeared, the one they required. Dropping down onto a narrow lane, they chased it to the end of the line, around another bend or two, and then pulled to a sudden stop.

It was very pretty and very quiet. Moaners could be seen in the distance, their movements hindered for walking on stones. The sun would hide behind a cloud but then reappear, to blast the land and them with glorious warmth. The birds were swept along in a different way, as if waves on the wind, dropping and soaring, their journey never done.

'Reg lives there, or he did ... Only it didn't look like that when we last saw it, did it?' Arthur scowled, looking at the building, then over at Cally.

'No, it didn't ... What the hell happened here?' she queried, looking from her friend out at the shop beside them.

It was stripped. A portion of door glass had been cut away, the opening then forced from the inside, before the place was emptied. Someone had beaten them to it. Random items scattered shelves that housed little more than dust, and the property was abandoned, the same as the rest in the row.

'Where's Reg then? I hope he's okay ... Do you want to take a look through?' Pete asked, looking round at Arthur.

'I have already, and he's not here ... I get the feeling he hasn't been here for a while ... Oddly enough, I also get the distinct feeling he's around here, somewhere,' he chuckled, knowing the old man was rather unusual in many ways.

'Okay, well, we haven't enough time in the day to complete a house to house search for an old man, sorry, even if he is blind, we can't risk it, not with Billy on board ... Where's the map, Cally ... We'll do a sweep of the red ribbon houses ... Try that end next ... We'll take what we find and go, that'll do for today ... You all okay with that?' Pete suggested, looking from person to person.

All agreed, so that's where they headed, out and round, back to the lane with the pretty cottages, and in particular, the one that once held the penned rabbits.

'... Reg, is that you?' Arthur chuckled, as he walked into the pretty back garden of the little cottage, to find the old man sat in the sun, having a drink.

'Well, is that Art's voice I hear? You found me then, I see,' Reg replied, as the big man, Cally and Pete moved to stand before him.

'It is, and how come you're here ... I see the shop got turned over, I hope you weren't there at the time,' Arthur fussed, crouching down beside him on the lawn.

'Nah, I was out of there by then ... Wanted to get nearer the sea in my old age ... I know I could have come to the compound, but I need to be here, by this, to remind me I am still alive,' Reg slowly smiled, his face lifting to those around him. 'And is that Cally with you too, and who else can I hear breathing, may I ask?'

The introductions were made, so everyone knew who they were talking to. As soon as Pete spoke Reg recognised his voice. He then received a hug and peck on the cheek as a hello from Cally, which was a nice touch, and one he most appreciated.

Their time was spent catching up and making sure he was settled into the cottage. He had all he needed, and was doing fine with what he had. No need to worry, he could cope, and didn't need saving just yet. When all were happy with his situation, they left him to his afternoon, and wandered back to the lorry, with Ravi and Billy still sat inside it.

They left the old man to his garden, sitting, listening to the world around him. Removing the red ribbon from the cottage gate upon leaving, they retrieved some supplies from their local larders, and then drove home, also collecting the car Ed had so wanted to save. No moaners to scar their return journey, the deed done with precision, the tank filled in seconds, the engine fired and ready to go.

All the way home Pete had something on his mind, something he saw. It was while they were at the cottage with the old man. Movement had caught his eye, when he was being nosy through the window, but when questioned, the old man had said he was alone in the house, not that they, or Arthur, did a sweep of the place. Maybe there was someone, maybe there wasn't, but it didn't stop him thinking about that shadow, the one across that stone floor of the little cottage by the cliffs.

'... Things happen for a reason, that's what you always say ... Maybe this happened for a reason too then ... Maybe I was meant to see him ...'

Lily was waffling on about something. It was a new topic, one that had her riled for some reason. There had been a few changes in her of late, one's Reg didn't quite understand. He put them down to teenage mood swings and left it at that.

Gently taking her wrist as she passed, Reg stopped the girl as though he saw her in real time.

'Who did you see?' Reg asked, looking up towards her, with her deathly serious face that paled slightly in the sunlight.

'... That man here earlier, the younger one ... I saw him but he never saw me ... I tried to remember what it was about him, something I forget ... From somewhere, his face, I know him, I'm sure I do ...'

'Who, Art, he's alright? You probably recognise him from his trips to the village, but why the voice, Lily, what's this all about?' Reg soothed, amazed at such a sudden change in the youngster. 'Please, petal, make me understand why you are the way you are ... I don't want to see you damaged, you're special, Lily, and not just to me ... Now, tell me, please, before I bust a gut pleading with you.'

Lily pulled her arm from his grip and stepped away, off towards the big window. Leaning against the wall, her fingers fiddled as the words fell from her. Pain might have been felt, once, but time changed everything, and with time came the lull of old memories.

'... That man ... There's something about him, but I can't remember what it is,' she replied, her voice all one tone.

Silence from the old boy, sat in his comfy chair by the fire. He was lost for words, his eyes closed to the thoughts of what she must have been through, alone, out there.

'May I ask a question, and I'm sorry if I offend? ... Would you mind telling me how long you were out there, alone, and fending for yourself?' he quietly asked, his head slowly facing her direction through his gloom.

'... Seven years, I think, take or leave a few months,' she almost whispered, her hands moving to her trouser pockets.

'Seven years, my God ... How old are you now then, can you remember?' was then on his aging lips.

'... I estimate, from my body, I was about sixteen when I became affected, but I'm not sure. That would make me about twenty-two now. I don't suffer a menstrual cycle for obvious reasons, so there's no telling ...'

Her life had been halted at a point where she didn't age anymore. Stuck there, in a form of suspended youth, she would never see a wrinkle or a line of frustration. Life would never lead her through normal physical changes, there would be no aches or pains, and no germ or virus would ever lay her low.

The flip side to that coin was a stark reality. Lily had become a sun tolerant vampire, minus flight, who was a part-time vegetarian, but had to feed on animal juice to rejuvenate. Sometimes she would join the horde and be them for a while, arms out front, pretending, with her eyes half lidded, her tongue drooling, and her feet dragging along. Eventually she would break away from her little troop, when she became bored or reached her destination.

Avoided by most things, including those sticky shadows, she thought herself doomed to a life of solitude. Until she found Reg, that is, who became her dear friend, and even helped save her, if just a little.

'Sweet sixteen, you poor love, and so young to be left behind ... My sad heart truly does ache for you and your tearful story, love ... And, please, feel the warmth I hold for your dear young soul, and know that I would be your hero, should that need arise ...'

They were the only words he could find, those that sat in the well of his heart. Having had children, and lost them too, he knew that bottomless pit of emptiness. Falling in was easy, when there was no one left to pull you out. He hoped he could pull Lily from her's. Sitting there, feeling so helpless, he wished, with all his might, to do that one thing well.

'You and me, we're not so different,' he smiled in the end, his eyes a little misty. 'There was a time when my dark world shifted, so such, I thought I was the last man left alive ... Maybe I wanted to survive, maybe I didn't ... But I knew one thing above all else ...'

The pause was so he could turn in his seat, the sun to the side of his face.

'... There's a reason I came to this part of the world, and there's a reason why I'm still here now ... Lily, I can see, I've always been able to see ... Only, I use the eyes I have on the inside,' he confessed, the feeling good, light even, and cast aside with glee.

Whether he expected her to be shocked no one will ever know, but she wasn't, in fact she was very unsurprised, by the look on her face.

'See, now that's a secret ... But it's not really a secret if I know already, is it?' she grinned, resting into a club chair in the sunny corner.

Reg was the one most surprised, how did she know?

'Oh, don't give me that look ... I've been watching you for ages through the gloom ... How else could you have driven here and, yes, I saw the nice motor, and, yes, I witnessed you arrive, ooh, about two years ago ... It was a Thursday, if I recall correctly, and you climbed from it as if you were my age ... And, yes, I do it too, seeing with my eyes shut ... It's easy when you know how, and doesn't it come in useful sometimes?' she chuckled, looking over at him.

Reg was very quiet, with no words left to say. There it was, he knew and she knew, and it was laid before him, his own storybook, wide open. Secrets, you couldn't have secrets, not with her and her gifts. He had to think about that, as he rested back into his comfy spot, with his tea and the sunshine, and the sound of the countryside beyond the open door.

Could they be the same? Did they both hide the same secrets? Was there a possibility she also knew of the other he hid? And why was there that full moon, still hanging in the sky, through light and dark, three days running?

Weymouth had been investigated in the afternoon of a sunny day, and then returned from with little to show for their excursion. What had been found, along the way, would be added to the stock cupboards, regardless of what it was. Billy went along for the ride, leaving Jake to his happy work, cleaning and petting as usual.

The few roamers seen were eradicated upon contact with the front of the army lorry, as they pounded down the road, singing a song the crew all knew, something about a chicken laying a little egg. It lifted happy voices, which were nice to hear, after the events of the journey and the previous weeks. Adults and teen joked their way back along the main route homewards, with what supplies they had located safely tucked away behind them.

'Ere, Dad ... What's that, over there? ... Look,' Billy asked Arthur, as they swing down towards the holiday camp, their last port of call for the items found earlier, which needed collecting.

'What?' Arthur asked, pulling to a stop beside an old shack that had once acted as an office.

'That, there ... It just moved ... I'm sure it did,' Billy then stated, pointing towards the shadow on the beach path, as Cally and Pete climbed down from the cab.

'Don't know, don't care ... Besides, I can't see anything, whatever it was ... Leave it, son, don't waste time with nonsense, we're here to collect and go ... That's all,' his father replied, walking off towards the abandoned building with Pete in tow.

Cally stopped, her eyes turning to look in Billy's pointed direction.

'Billy's right ... There is something over there ... And, whatever it is ... It's trying to hide from us ... Pete, you listening?'

The two men stopped, turning to glance in the same direction, their eyes blinking in an attempt to focus on whatever was being watched. Before either of them had a chance to say anything, Billy bolted towards it, not caring if they followed or not.

'Billy, get back here, right now, or you'll be cleaning out latrines for life, do you hear me?'

Cally followed, in an effort to catch him, but he was fast on his feet, with his knife in his hand, ready to do whatever had to be done.

'Christ, do you see what I see?' Pete then said, looking at the younger man beside him.

Without another word, they ran after the other two, heading towards the beach.

There was no trying to hide, it was trying to break free of its caught up condition, tangled in a bush and eager to be free.

Billy, slowing as he neared it, looked at the most forlorn looking dog he had ever laid eyes on. Scrawny, injured, and looking as if it was about to die, he inched his way towards it, trying to use the gentlest voice he could muster, after his mad dash to its aid.

'Hey, there ... You need some help? ... Yeah, I can help you, I can ... Just be still, little dog ... We'll have you free in no time ...'

Cally edged up beside the boy, listening for what might be in their vicinity, hoping no roamers were there to add to the situation.

The dog cowered down, but growled regardless, its odd coloured eyes jumping from one upright to the other. It was bleeding in several places, and had no fat on its bones, its mangy coat tatty and covered in nasty matter.

As Billy stepped a little nearer, it snapped in his direction, its wild eyes never leaving the boy's face.

'What's wrong with it?' he asked Cally, as she stopped beside him, the look on her face quite sad for seeing an animal in such a mess.

'I don't know, Billy,' she soothed, 'but judging by the state it's in, it's not a well dog ... Not well at all ...'

'Get away from it ... Now,' Arthur said, joining them where they stood. 'It's affected, look at its eyes ...'

Was it as affected as those that wandered the land in search of fresh meat? Maybe the dog was no exception, as it snapped and snarled, trying to reach them to take a tasty bite.

Billy's sad face looked up at his dad stood beside him. His words were said with misty eyes, for seeing the poor hound in such turmoil.

'We can't leave it here, not like that, Dad, we can't ... Please, do something ... Anything's gotta be better than this ...'

'Go back to the lorry with Cally, son ... Pete and I will take care of it, don't you worry ... But I don't want you to see it, not today,' he almost whispered to his boy, the look on his face reflecting his sad words.

'Make it quick then, for the lad's sake,' Cally crooned, taking Billy by the shoulders and turning him away, towards the lorry behind them, sat up on the rise.

Once they were gone, the two men looked down at the poor animal in their midst. Even in its weakened state it made every attempt to lurch forwards, snapping as it did.

Pete was nearly as devastated as poor Billy, looking down at what had once been a good looking Collie dog.

'Shame, we could do with a hound around the house ... Nothing like having a dog to welcome you home at the end of the day ... How sad,' were the only words he could find, for sad it was. 'So, how we gonna do it then? Should I boot its head to the ground and you do the rest, and is it really affected?' he asked, looking at the man with the big knife.

'Yeah and no ... Yeah, you boot its neck to the ground I'll do the rest, and, no, it's not infected, it's just half blind and dying a slow death, one we can't bring it back from ... Something's had a go at it too, look at all that blood, we can't save it from that even if it would let us near it,' Arthur replied, wiping a hand across the lower part of his face, knowing what was to come.

'Well, let's be kind then, and put it out of its misery,' Pete said with a tone of sadness. 'I'm with Billy on this, we can't leave it here to die like that ... I can be a bast'd most days, but not to that extent, not today ... Billy would never forgive us if we walk away without doing anything ... I can feel his eyes in the back of my head already, and they're burning into my skull as we speak.'

Arthur turned and looked back at the lorry, his hands resting at his waistline. Pete was right. Billy was watching them, and like a hawk through the lorry window, his face a plate of distress.

'Come on then, let's get it done and gone ... The light's fading and I want to be back before we lose the last of it ...'

As Pete stepped towards the wretched animal before them, its head dropped suddenly and it started to whimper in a most soul destroying way, as if it already knew its fate.

'I can't do this, mate, I can't,' Pete said, pitifully, looking down at the cowering form before him. 'It's not who we are, we don't do things like this and then sleep at night ... If I still had that gun then, yes, I'd shoot it, but I can't do what we should do, that's asking too much.'

'So, what do you suggest, leave it here to die slowly? Maybe I'll get lucky and be eaten alive, if found here, like this ... Does that sound better to you?' Arthur remarked, looking down at the wasted creature.

'I don't know what the answer is, but it isn't this, Art ... Maybe we can save it ... Ravi might know how to bring it back to its former glory, you know he's clever at stuff like that ... Can't we at least try?' Pete then said, looking to the lorry then back to the man beside him, still holding his knife in hand ready to do what had to be done.

'But I've already told Billy it's affected, how do I take that back?'

'Tell him you made a mistake, tell him you thought it was but it isn't ... Tell him anything, but don't do this ... Not this ...'

As Pete finished talking, he crouched down to get closer to the poor mutt. With that, its head turned slowly to lick the hand that dropped towards its face.

'See, we can't leave it now ... It wants to be saved,' Pete chided, as he took out his knife and cut its matted coat free from the branch where it was caught.

In that second it was decided the hound would be going with them. Pete carried it to the lorry, its weight that of a small child. Explaining to the boy and Cally that it was nearly blind not affected, Billy volunteered to sit with it in the back of the lorry. Having determined it was a boy dog, they felt they needed to name it, as it wore no collar to give them a clue.

'I'm calling him Bush, seems only right after where we found him,' Billy smiled, settling down for the journey home, with the dog's head resting on his lap, and an old blanket wrapped around him to keep him warm.

Alas, Bush didn't live to see the compound. By the time they reached the barn, he had stopped breathing, his condition so poor he couldn't even keep down fresh water. Billy cried into his dad's arms, as the dog was carried out into the sunlight, to be laid to rest near Smithy. Another loss, another day and, so, life went on, without the hound they had tried so hard to rescue.

Reliving the nightmare lifted her from her bed, the scream as raw as a slap across the face. In her metal cellar room, behind the wall, the sound did not escape, it never escaped. Standing before the mirror, her sweat and tears mingled, so she couldn't tell them apart. Looking at herself, she tried to remember the girl she used to be, the one that was young and carefree, she, who was once loved life so much.

Hugging herself, as she wept, she ambled into the kitchen area and poured herself a glass of wine. Moving into the sitting room, she sat in the gloom, not wanting to see what lay around her. Big tears rolled as her dark-side told a story she couldn't remove from her mind. It kept showing her the same part, over and over, with the same outcome and the same agony.

The falling, that was sickly enough, but hitting the water and sinking, whilst she was looking up, that was the nightmare. She couldn't stop them, the sea of tears. Even though she had tried to swim for the surface, the current had still pulled her down. When there was no air left, she simply let go, her eyes watching as the light above faded.

It was then she had ripped herself awake. His face, the face she knew, it was still there, behind her lids, and she needed to find it. One had been before her, stood on the cliff, with a face she thought she would never see. The scorching heat inside had risen and blistered under her skin, making her feel alive and ready. A different shadow had then reached out for her, to stop her from falling, but they didn't have the same face. What was happening to her? Was she losing her mind?

Leaving the space below, she walked out into the night air, the grass wet beneath her feet. Tolgus was in his garage for the night, as Reg slept the slumber of the dead. Walking to the rabbit hutch, she opened the door and lifted a small body from within, then closed it again, keeping the others safe. It was carried around the garden and petted, as she listened to the creatures of the night going about their business.

Standing in the centre of the lawn, she looked up at that big full moon, its halo a wisp around it, hardly seen but still there. If Reg had not been living with her, she would have lifted her chin high, and howled at that large silver disc above. A new sensation flooded through, one that predicted a few changes. Inside her, she was becoming something new, something special, something the world was in need of. Though she wasn't aware of it at the time, it was happening, and she was not going to be able to control it.

Lifting the small body to her cheek, she brushed the warm fur over her cold skin, holding it there to hear the small breaths it took. A heart was beating in there, between those little ribs, an innocent one, tiny and full of blood. Just one bite and her battery would be charged for another twenty-four hours, just one.

No, not tonight, no eating before sleep, it wouldn't happen if she did, keep it for breakfast, better tasting then. It was sat in her lap, as she took a seat herself. Dropping her head back, she looked up at the stars and moon, hanging way up high. Chilly though it was, she didn't feel it, her internal light keeping her warm.

A shadow moved in the corner of her eye. Slowly turning her face towards the hedge, she watched as a badger waddled through, from one gap in the undergrowth to another. Pottering around at night, she went on her way, bouncing off to wherever.

Such a peaceful place, so quiet and secluded, and it was still good, even with Reg on board. Having Tolgus had opened up her world no end, their hacks out taking them on regular trundles to find supplies. When the weather was kind, and the day hot, they would ride all the way along the cliff, passed Thorncombe Beacon, nearly as far as Seatown. There was nothing in Seatown, just more empty cottages and a derelict pub, and that was it, not much else.

An owl called across from the trees, sat the other side of the meadow. The moon shone bright, as a million tiny pinpricks of light flooded the sky. A light breeze lifted the leaves of the cherry tree, the sound shushing through the dark.

Walking to the hutch, the small body was put back along with the others, his time in her hands over. She wandered the moonlit space, almost humming to herself. Lost in a dream, she didn't see the movement behind her. The shadow slid from its shelter to wander the lawn, its purpose yet to be known.

Feeling it at her back, Lily turned in the dark, the raised hairs on her neck telling her to do so. It was there but not there, the form, the face. Hovering, as if a ghost, the figure filled out to become a man, and a big man at that. Who was it?

She wanted to scream, but couldn't, as her eyes bore into the apparition before her. He wasn't really there, she could see right through him to the trees beyond. He floated, as he tried to say something, trapped there, in his dark-side, never to be heard. Stepping back, pace after pace, she retreated away, her eyes never leaving the mass that lingered. It was wrong, all wrong.

Suddenly she saw it, the face, the face from her dream, and it was the face of the shadow who had tried to save her. He was shouting at her, and he was shouting the word, run. That was it. She could almost hear it, as it brushed against her face from the power it projected towards her with.

Holding her breath as she watched it change, there was a light build around him, his shadow to glow as if the moon itself. It faded slightly, so she felt at one with him, as if part of them had been swapped over, the feeling rather strange. Stood there, in the dark, there was little she could do facing that.

When the light died away, she found herself alone again, stood quietly on the lawn. He was gone, and his shadow with him. The memory stayed in the back of her mind, as did the dream containing him. It was him haunting her, the big man with the dark eyes, but she didn't know him, but she did recognise him.

'I have to go back, I have to, Cally ... Don't ask me why, I just do ... The dream, it keeps repeating. I just had it again, and again I saw that same sad face... And it's always in that spot, always, so the scene never changes ... I'm telling you because I don't know who to turn to ... And, please, don't saying anything to anyone, or they'll think I've really lost all my marbles ...'

He had to tell someone, it was getting too real, too near a nerve. It had haunted him for long enough, maybe saying it out loud would make it stop. Arthur looked around the room as he spoke, his attention all over the place. What he was saying didn't make any sense to him, so why would Cally understand?

'... It stinks, I know, and it's just a stupid dream, right? ... But, it feels wrong, Cally ... So ... What should I do about it?'

In the early hours Arthur had rushed to her unit to wake her. Pete wasn't there with her, having already left after their usual session in the sack. She was pale faced and half asleep, as his tale tumbled out, but was she really listening at that time of the morning anyway? Yes, she was, but only vaguely.

'Look, if it means that much to you, you have to go ... Not now, of course, but you can go when it's light outside, if you still feel it's that important ... Is it really that important to you, Art?' she gently asked, trying to focus on him in the candle light.

Nodding his head he smiled, his kind eyes small shiny beads in the soft glow.

'Okay, do that then ... So, go home, get some sleep, if you can, and you can go do what you have to do later, simple ... Right now, I'm bushed, so, if you don't mine, Art ...'

In other words, Cally was telling him, in a very nice way, to bugger off back to bed. He got the hint and left, blowing the candle out at her door.

There was no sleeping for him. Walking the compound cleared his head a little, but not much, and that funny feeling was still there, hiding behind his ribs. Stopping in the communal kitchen, he made himself a hot drink, and sat at the table, thinking about his dream.

The voice startled him from the door. It was Ravi.

'Arh, my friend, you are not sleeping well either ... You and me both,' he grinned, fixing himself a drink, the same as Arthur, and then taking a seat beside him.

'Nah, I couldn't sleep if you paid me ... Stupid dreams keep me awake ... And trying to force yourself to sleep makes it worse ... I didn't want to disturb Billy, so I came out here instead,' he smiled, as Ravi sat with his full mug.

'Sometimes I can sleep like the ancestors, dead to the world ... Then, others, I have a better chance of being bitten by a deadly snake,' the Indian gentleman chuckled, before taking a sip of his nice hot tea.

'Ravi, can I ask you something, just between us?' Arthur smiled, looking at his friend.

'Yes, of course, ask away, my friend ...'

As Ravi replied, Arthur lifted from his seat to check the corridors. Coming back, after closing both doors, he took his seat again.

'Okay ... What do you know about Pete? Have you know him a long time, or only since the start of the compound?'

Sitting and thinking about the question, Ravi tried to see a timeline, but there simply wasn't one.

'I know little of his life before he started building this place, it is a story he wishes not to tell, but most of us are the same ... He had a family, that I do know, but they were lost, the same as most ... Why do you ask, has something happened between you?'

'Nah, nothing's happened, it's just that he never talks about them, his family that is ... I just wondered why, was all? Nothing else, just that,' Arthur smiled, looking at his friend's tired face.

'Maybe his grief is relived if he speaks the words, so, could it be his way of coping with that loss? ... We are all different, Art, and we do what we have to do, however that loss affects us ... Pete is a proud man, he hides his sorrow well, but that doesn't mean he isn't breaking on the inside ... Wherever he finds his courage, it gives him the strength he needs to keep going everyday ... I have much respect for the man, he has suffered enough ...'

Looking at the other man, Ravi lifted from his chair. Turning, he spoke as he made for the door, his mug in hand.

'Many things have changed, and we all changed too, or we were left behind ... Pete was not left behind, he is always ahead of everyone else ... Sometimes, he is so far ahead he does not hear us, sometimes, he does hear, but cares not to listen ... He'll be okay, he has us ... You, my friend, I am not so sure about,' was chuckled as Ravi wandered back to his unit, with sleep making his lids heavy once more.

Arthur sat his time out in the kitchen, thinking and drinking. Eventually people lifted from their beds to start another day, their noise spreading down the hallways towards him. Returning home, he was dressed and ready, as Billy pulled himself from his room.

'Morning, Dad ... Another rubbish night, was it?' the youngster asked, as he filled the kettle and put it on to boil.

'Yeah, sorry, lad, I didn't mean to wake you ... Did I?' his dad replied, readying two mugs for a brew.

'Only once, when you shouted in your sleep, that woke me straight away,' he commented, getting the powered milk from the cupboard.

'I shouted in my sleep! What did I say?'

Arthur couldn't remember that, but if he was asleep at the time he wouldn't. Taking a seat, he took his tea from Billy, who then sat opposite with his.

'Yeah, you shouted, run, and it was really loud too,' Billy half smiled, worried for his dad.

'Wow, it must have been one hell of dream then, boy ... I hope I didn't start that in my sleep, racing around the unit, pelting away from something nasty,' Arthur chuckled, trying to make light of it.

'Dad, it sounded serious, I was worried ... I checked in on you, but you were out cold, away with the fairies, so I didn't want to wake you and ask you ... That seemed a dumb idea at the time ...'

Billy was aware of his dad's odd dreams. He'd been having them a while, but he'd never shouted before, not like that.

'I'm okay, really, son, don't you worry about you're old pot and pan, I ain't going mad ... Well, not yet, anyway,' he almost laughed, looking over at his boy and his straight face.

It eventually broke into a smile, his dad's laugh being enough to make him feel better about the whole affair.

'That's alright then,' Billy grinned, 'as long as I know you won't be wandering the halls at night ... In clothes is one thing, but you sleep naked, Dad, and coming across that in a dark corridor, well, it'd be enough to give anyone nightmares ...'

'Thanks, son, and I love you too,' Arthur smiled. 'So, that's my cue to go do something of interest ... And behave yourself, I have a run out today, and, no, sorry, not on this one, before you ask ...'

Though Billy was a bit miffed, the look on his father's face suggested there was something going on in his head, something important. He would always get that look after a bad night's rest, the shadow to haunt him all day long.

Leaving his son to his own devices, Arthur wandered the compound in search of the man he needed to see. He was in the map room, pouring over one.

'Hey, Pete, you busy, I need a quick word?' Arthur chirped, as he lingered in the doorway with his hands stuffed in his front trouser pockets.

'Yes, mate, I'm all yours, what d'ya need?' Pete replied, not looking up from the printed sheet before him.

'I'd like to take a run over to the village to see Reg, I'm a bit worried about him over there on his own ... There's a house just up from him that has some items I want to collect too, tools and bits, they might come in handy ...'

The big man spoke as me ambled over to join Pete, still with his eyes on the map. It was of the village, the village where Reg lived. As he got nearer, Pete folded it up, before he moved it to one side.

'Who are you thinking of taking, Ravi?' Pete asked, finishing his cold coffee.

'Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me ... If you fancied the trip out, that is?' Arthur fished, trying to get the other man interested. 'I also want to show you something else I found over there ... I didn't want to get too nosy on my own, so I thought we could go check it out, together ... You up for it?'

Pete moved towards the door, his mug empty and another one needed.

'Yeah, why not, I'll come with ya ... Get me out of here for a bit, and some fresh air would be nice,' he concluded, looking at the other man as he followed him out.

No one else was that interested. Cally was busy with Clare and Patsy, doing the compound's washing. There wasn't much but, by hand, it took a long time and lots of effort. Finding the old mangle, on one of their runs, had been a wonderful addition to the laundry room, thereby cutting down some of the hardest work by half.

Ed was helping Jake with the livestock, along with Billy, and Ravi was working in the garden, hoeing and weeding. Between them all, it had built up nicely and into a garden producing a variety of mixed vegetables and fruit. Once the barn was made safe again, and everyone was happy with the new reinforced doors, work had resumed with the livestock going topside again.

Banter was light, as they drove the road towards Bothenhampton, where they turned left, and headed out through Watton. Left again, and they dropped down the lane that took them as far as the little cottage. Only one crowd of moaners were seen, staggering away from the village, moving north. No others were seen after that, the area very quiet.

Before hitting Reg's dead-end, Arthur pulled over, outside a large house, with pretty blue shutters around the windows. It was a thatch, nice looking, and painted white, with a large garden and collection of outbuildings.

'This is the place I was talking about ... I stuck a hoard of gear in the shed ... Stop here, if you want, I won't be long,' he smiled, and out he jumped, with his treasured tool belt in place.

Waiting in the lorry, Pete looked down the lane to the cottage he had been thinking about for several days. Since his last visit, something had played on his mind, to fester there and cause a few sleepless nights. He didn't mention the dreams to Cally, what was the point. She couldn't stop them, could she? Nothing could do that, so, they had to run their course until they decided to let him be.

The clatter of tools being thrown into the back of the lorry swiped him from his daydream. When Arthur climbed back in, Pete looked over and smiled.

'All done, got what you came for?'

'Yeah, all nicked and loaded ... Found a big box of light bulbs too, so I had them away as well,' he grinned, taking the handbrake off and rolling down to their next destination.

It was when he pulled to a halt it happened. The searing pain burnt through the front of his skull, as though he had been hit with an iron bar. Curling over the steering wheel, his hands lifted to his forehead, to clamp around it in an effort to beat it back.

The vision, it was there again, making him blind to everything else. As Pete's faded voice crooned words of concern, Arthur saw what was waiting for them, out there. His dark-side was warning him, but of what? Peering through the gloom, it was there, beckoning him further into the dark, as if it was attempting to steal his inner light away.

'... Art ... Art ... Speak to me, mate ... You okay? ... What's wrong ...?'

Pete's words came through in a wavering line, hardly heard for the noise in his head. The shadow, it was there, on the inside, watching him. The heat at his core doubled, as his eyes started to water. The spike, it shot right through him, right through the very centre of him. Was he having a heart attack?

Falling back into his seat, with his eyes fluttering as he tried to see further, a face was forming within the dark, a face he knew. Putting his hands up to omit any further illumination, he strained to get there, across that divide, over to where it was.

Sweat trickled down his cheek and neck, as he travelled through the space he found in his head. Swimming through the gloom, it made no sense. Why did it lead him back to Pete?

'Christ, sorry about that,' Arthur babbled, trying to focus on the man next to him as the vision faded. 'The headaches get worse if I don't sleep ... And I didn't last night, not at all ...'

'Look, we don't have to do this now ... I can drive us back, it's not a problem ... If you feel like hell, we can come back at a later date, really, it's alright,' Pete smiled from the passenger seat, trying to remain calm.

'Nah,' Arthur grinned, his suddenly cold eyes looking over at the other man. 'It's not alright, mate, in fact, it's very un-alright ...'

'Art, you okay, you look a bit strange? ... Maybe you need some air, crack your window open a little ... That should help ...'

He didn't, he sat there instead, and looked at Pete with that odd expression still on his face, as though he was about to be sick in the cab.

'Pete ... We need to take a walk ... Come with me, there's something you need to see,' Arthur then said, climbing from the cab, but leaving his tool belt on his seat.

The other man followed suit, his feet dropping into the road, as Arthur walked to the front of the beast. As Pete joined him, stood, looking at the cottage they were about to visit, Arthur finally spoke again, his voice sounding very bitter.

'... I know what you did to your daughter, Pete ... I never wanted to believe it of you, not ever ... But it's true, isn't it, it's all true?'

The man's face was buried deep in his pitiful glance, the one Pete felt weighed down by. He never thought, in all the days he had left, someone would say those words. No one knew, so how did Arthur?

'Pal, your head's all mashed up from your lack of sleep ... I have no idea what the hell you're talking about,' Pete lied, turning to walk away.

That was when he saw her, stood at the gate, the young girl. Pete stopped breathing as he paused, his mind whizzing around with a million memories that all collided at once. Fear, shame and a pile of guilt sat there, right in his line of sight, to remind him of a time before.

The voice was Arthur's, and it didn't sound very happy.

'You killed her, Pete, you killed her and didn't even care ... No wonder you stayed quiet, the burden of your guilt must have damn near crushed you ... You must have hated yourself for that one, I know I would have, but then I'm not you ... So, pal, let's see just how brave you are now your truth is here to claim you ... Are you ready to receive it?'

As he spoke, Arthur backed away. He was about to live through that which he had already seen though his dark-side. Exposing the lie had set Arthur free, and he made sure of that. Pete could no longer hide from it either, his story about to be revisited in the most horrendous of ways.

He couldn't move, locked in a gaze with a ghost from years ago. A tightness appeared in his chest, as Pete was drawn towards her, his movements not his own. Gliding away from Arthur, he was lost to the one before him. Getting nearer his expression changed to something else, something not seen before by the man behind, as the young girl spoke the first of her words.

'... Hello, Daddy ... Have I grown ...?'

'... No way, Art, she's not my daughter ... My daughter died years ago, when we were trying to cross the county line ... Lost she was, to the trees, the droners, and the shadows ... That's what happened to her, so she can't be my daughter, she can't be Maria ...'

Pausing, he looked and tried to see the girl inside the ghoul. Pete tried, he really did, and her voice was nearly there, but still not right. It sounded too mature, aged, and not how it should at all.

'... Besides,' he said, almost shouting at her, 'I shot you dead, then threw you off the cliff and into the sea, as though you were nothing ... I wouldn't do that to her, so you can't be her, you can never be her, you're nothing like my Maria ... My daughter wasn't a demon, a monster, something dead and decaying ... No, no, no, she was alive, full of hope and joy, so you're not her, you're never her.'

Lily remembered the day on the cliff, the day she was hit and dumped. She was pretending to fly, eyes closed, arms out, face to the wind. She had been more alive before then, fit and well and doing okay. He was the one that took that away from her, her own father?

'... Well, Daddy ... You're facing that demon now ...'

Lifting her hands as if in prayer, the air all around them became suddenly still, the silence a fine mist, seen but not heard. Particles were held in free-fall, stationary, not ready to drop. Looking up at her father, her grey eyes turned to molten metal, as silver as the full moon itself. Little by little the light built around her, as her mouth slowly opened to let her inner monsters free.

From her flowed a plague of shadows to swirl and circle, to touch and taunt. Pulling and pushing, they transformed into the family he had left to die, alone, out there, so as to survive himself. Bites were taken, big ones, leaving gaping raw wounds, as he was held aloft by unseen hands, crucified in mid-air.

No screams to be heard, as his mouth filled with black slime drawn from the darkness, which lingers only to consume. Tearstained eyes widened, the pupils bursting from half torn lids, as it forced its way in by any means available.

'... You will see ... You will feel ... Everything ...'

Across from her, Arthur moved to the side of the truck, his daze at an end, his dark-side knowing the future. He knew what Lily, or Maria, had to do. It was the only way to release her demons too. Looking into the light, he could have wept for the girl. By doing as she was, would she sacrifice herself and take her father with her to the other side?

To return them both, all would be balanced again, all would be made right. The one true light would then claim their power as her own, taking them, and her full moon, away into the night.

He hung before her, decaying as she watched. Brown bile lifted and seeped, oozed and drained from him, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. A white shield filtered down across his stricken orbs, coating them in a chalky substance. With the draining of the colour from his face, he was finally what he had always feared.

'... Now I'm going to show you how to do it properly ... You evil sod ...'

Lily walked towards her father and, lifting a revolver in her hand, slotted the barrel between his chomping teeth. With one twist, she turned it to face upwards and pulled the trigger.

Parts of him flew everywhere, as other matter hit the floor. He collapsed away from her, his crown obliterated.

'Now, that's, how you kill a moaner, Daddy ... And, Art, just so you know ... I've always hated the name Maria ... My name's Lily ...'

Turning into the light once more, she shouted into it, her voice on the verge of breaking.

'... SHOW YOURSELF ...'

Falling into herself, she looked through her dark-side, her breath almost stopped. Lily knew it was in there, as it had always been in there.

'Put it back, to how it was before ... I know you can ... Make it right ... You wanted him, you have him ... His shadow is yours ...'

Arthur couldn't move, so amazed was he at what he was witnessing. His dark-side was blazing a line of light from within him, the power added to the one the girl omitted. Lifting his hands to shield his eyes, he was blinded by the light, for the combined glow was so bright. It curled orange at the edges, as a silver thread split a line right across the gut of it. Paling to white, the blue flashing came in shorts bursts, a diamond in the night.

'... Then come into the light ... Face me and you will have your wish,' demanded the soft voice of the one true light, which filled the space around them, hugging them, making them feel safe, but it wasn't.

Arthur, worried for the young girl, tried to move forwards to grab at the hem of her silver lit gown, created from shooting stars and drifting moonbeams. His finger rose to take it, but nothing was there to grasp, they passed right through the fine fabric, sending space rock twisting and rumbling towards her feet.

'... I will face you, do not fear ... But are you ready to receive me?' Lily questioned, taking a step towards the galaxy before her.

'... Come forth ... And linger in my light, child,' the voice then crooned in Lily's direction.

Taking that next step forward, she held that gaze, her eyes full of silver stars, as she slowly smiled to herself. Standing on the very edge of space, the silver moon sat right before her, its fullness filling the night sky.

'... Lass, don't do it ... DON'T,' Arthur cried, his heart bursting with the thought of losing the poor young thing from his so sad dreams.

She paused, her eyes dropping to the darkness below her. When they rose again, they rose as two burning suns ablaze, their fierceness to match the fires that had rinsed the land clean of everything. Lifting her hands and placing them palm to palm, Lily's face set into a self-satisfied plate of contentment, as her mouth started to open once more.

With the droning release of that one note circling into the space around her, out across the green fields and towards the town and cities, she ripped all the souls from the afflicted who wandered, sightlessly, from shore to shore. Standing on the very edge, facing her fear, it had given her the strength and courage to do what had to be done, and with every one of them passing her and Arthur by, she gave them back to the one true light which had created them with that first tide of flame.

As they tumbled towards the full moon's light, the intensity grew, so it became an expanding sphere, widening with every one of them taken in. Reaching its point of capacity, as the last filtered into the silver glare, it fractured, and then splintered with a blinding blast, which then radiated across the infinite night.

The shock wave tore across space, throwing Lily backwards, through the shadows behind her, and into the realm she knew. Landing in a pile next to Arthur's feet, the doorway of light flared neon blue before it separated into a white line. Watching from where she lay, the glow gently faded for a moment before it vanished with a loud bang. The birth of a universe had just run in reverse, going right back to the beginning of time.

The wind dropped away, as the air cooled and the static died to a crackle all around. Silence and calm spread out across the fields, over the cliffs, and inland for all the miles that rested between.

Shaking his head slowly, Arthur looked at the quiet young girl, still sat by his ankles, watching the light die away. There she was, she who had haunted his dreams for all those months. Inside, he felt alive in one way but then devastated in another. He had found her, after all that time, yet lost Pete, which was something he wasn't looking forward to explaining to Cally and the group.

Crouching down next to her, to hold out his hand, his words were only just heard above the drone of silence.

'... Hi,' he smiled, 'I'm Art ... And it's really nice to finally meet you, Lily ...'

Peace in the garden, on a lovely summer's eve, after a ride along the cliff path, and an apple picking session. Tolgus was happy in his meadow, over the hedge, now with a chunk cut away so he could stand and see into the garden. Birds hung in the sky, singing the day away, the night creatures soon to be taking their turn.

'So, that was your other secret then? ... You were affected too, just like me ... That's how you knew about dying and coming back to life, and it's why you came and hid down here on the coast ... I kept wondering where my bottled blood was going, I knew I wasn't drinking it that fast,' Lily smiled, with her pretty face awash with warm sunlight.

'Yeah, well, I always meant to tell ya, but I never got round to it ... And I wasn't gonna stay up there, was I, lass? Not with those army types running around with loaded guns ... I suppose I had the same idea as you, in the end ... Get as far away as possible, and keep my head down ... And it worked for a while ... Until that compound lot found me,' Reg scoffed, not seeming very happy with that part.

'None of it matters now, Reg ... It's over,' she replied, as her eyes lifted to the blue sky horizon. 'And it'll be really strange getting back to normal, won't it? ... Now they're all gone ...'

'It's gonna be quiet, that's for sure, no more droning moaners, everyone happy and starting again ... And what about us, are we better now then, no more falling to bits?' he asked, as she poured them both another red wine.

'Reg, you will not fall to bits, anymore, I promise ... And, you get to keep your dark-side, so you'll still see, and we'll always be connected, along with all the others, like Art, who have it too ... Now, you'll never be alone,' she grinned, taking a sip from her replenished glass.

'... I'll never be alone,' Reg repeated, with a smile to match. 'Now, that, I do like the sound of ... Cheers,' he chuckled, as the sun dropped behind the trees, the horse cantered across his meadow, and all the land made ready to retire for a very, comfy, night.

The End

### About the Writer:

### Tam Sturgeon

Tam Sturgeon doesn't actually live anywhere, preferring to be a Nomad for life. Born in High Wycombe, Buckinghamshire (England), she has spent a majority of her years moving from one place to another looking for the perfect home. Married and divorced, twice, she roams and then settles wherever she sets down her cowboy hats and bipolar condition. She has sculptured words for over thirty years and has written eight novels (4 x love story, 3 x zomiefest, and 1 x sci-fi) in the last ten. Words are her first love, (after her son, of course), which are then closely followed by music, art and Jack Daniel's. She is currently still based in England ... But that could change anytime soon.
