His bravery, his foolish confidence, was going to get him killed. Less than an hour ago, Heather had woken and found him gone. She’d known immediately thathe’d gone out with the other boys and young men. Though she’d tried to stayawake to keep an eye on him, she’d failed.
When they had first started living in the underground train stations and supply rooms after the invasion occurred, Neil had been twelve. Nightmares had haunted him every night. He had been at home when the demons broke into the flat and killed their parents. He’d barely escaped with his life, and then onlybecause the horrific monsters had chosen to stay and kill the others in the building.
Heather had been at a friend’s parents’ flat when the news about the demoninvasion had hit the television news channels. She’d been sleeping over withClaire, talking about boys and watching dumb romance movies they had both giggled over.
The sound of the military jets screaming through the night sky and the rumble of the tank treads over the street had filled London that night. But mostly what Heather remembered were the screams of the wounded and dying. In the beginning, those things had been nightly and daily occurrences. Now they still happened but there weren’t as many as before, primarily because there weren’t as many victimsleft in the city for the monsters to find.
She wore jeans that had once fit her like a second skin but now had to be held up with a belt because she had lost weight. Skaters’ elbow and knee padsprovided extra protection. Protection was everything in her world now. She also learned to wear hiking boots and heavy leather gloves any time she was outside the Underground. Even down in the tube, debris created danger and obstacles. Without a chemist’s shop, doctor, or hospital to go to, a simple infection couldbe life-threatening.
Four years ago, when she had been at school, she would never have left the flat in such a state. She kept her dark hair hacked off as short as she was ableto keep it from her eyes and to prevent it from being easily grabbed. She’dsince learned both of those things could get her killed in a heartbeat.
She also carried weapons these days, something she had never done. A long-bladed hunting knife rode in a scabbard on her right hip. She carried a weighted length of pipe in her right hand.
After a final quick breath to steady her nerves, Heather slid around the alley corner and started down the cracked sidewalk. It would be morning soon. She didn’t want to be caught out on thestreet in daylight.
She kept her eyes moving. That was a trick she had learned from a Special Air Services soldier who had stayed in one of the small group shelters where she’dkept Neil for a few weeks. That was back when large groups could exist for a while in relative safety. Those days were over.
During the soldier’s stay, he had trained anyone who would listen in survivalskills. One of the main things Heather remembered was that the human eye wasn’tdesigned for nocturnal activity. In order to see things at night, humans had to keep their eyes moving and use peripheral vision to detect motion and shapes in the darkness.
She did that now. She also kept her ears pricked for the slightest change in sounds. Blood Angels, the female winged demons who controlled so much of the rooftops and airspace, sometimes mixed in with the gargoyles perched on buildings. Heather had trained herself to listen for the muffled subsonic flutter created by a Blood Angel’s swooping descent. It was usually the lastthing anyone ever heard.
Her left hand trailed the line of shops beside her. She didn’t lose touchwith the buildings. It wasn’t enough to merely watch and listen to herenvironment these days; she had to remain in physical contact with changes in space as well.
She thought perhaps her parents had brought her shopping in the area before the Hellgate opened by St. Paul’s. But she couldn’t remember for sure. It seemedas though she remembered a lot more pleasant times these days than had actually happened.
A man stepped out of the darkness ahead of her. He turned to face her and grinned.
“You out here by yourself, love?” the man asked.
Heather froze, one hand on the wall and the other tight around the weighted pipe.
Even looking at him with her peripheral vision, Heather barely made the man out against the darkness. He was scrawny. It was as if fat people had disappeared off the face of the earth after the demons had arrived. Whiskers dirtied his lean wolfs jaws. A long duster covered him from neck to knees. Maybe the garment had always been black, or maybe it had gotten stained that way. He held his hands in his pockets.
There was a time, she told herself, when running into a man like him was the most fearful thing you had to worry about.
She didn’t fear him now. But she was wary of him. If he hurt her in any way,or incapacitated her, she wouldn’t be able to care of herself.
Or Neil.
“Did anyone ever tell you that it was rude not to speak to your elders whenthey spoke to you?” the man asked in a harsh tone.
“I’m not out here for conversation,” Heather replied. She kept her voiceneutral and offered no insult or hint of fear.
“Then why are you out here, love?”
“I’m foraging. Same as you.”
“You should have someone watching your back. These are dangerous times.”
Not just because of the monsters, Heather thought.
There was talk in the shadows of groups of humans that had gone feral. People said they were cannibalistic, that they’d started out eating the flesh of deadpeople but had acquired a taste for it. These days they took their kills fresh.
“I can watch my own back.” Heather stepped toward the curb to go around theman.
“Then you’ve a fool for a partner, Doris,” the man said in
