“They’ve pulled back into the hearts of their remaining cities, pulling their people closer together and drawing them in from the outside. There’s strength in numbers, and we need to do something similar. We need to stop fighting as individuals and form a coordinated attack force, an army if you will.”
“But they’ll hunt us out. If we start grouping together in large numbers, they’ll find us and-”
Preston sighs and pauses the video. He rubs his eyes and shakes his head.
“This is so much bigger than you and me, Danny,” he says. “We’re just cogs in a machine, and we’re expendable. Ankin’s not talking about setting up a military force with sergeants and captains and the like. He’s just trying to get us to work together and coordinate our efforts.”
“I understand that, but-”
“We have to start making better use of the people and resources we’ve got, and start hitting the enemy where it hurts. If we can do enough damage to start them off, they’ll destroy themselves. You heard about London, didn’t you?”
“No. I haven’t heard anything for weeks.”
“It happened incredibly quickly. We lost thousands that night but they lost many, many more.”
“How? What happened?”
He seems surprised that I don’t know.
“The mother of all battles,” he explains. “We came at them from all angles, caused so much panic and confusion that they lost control. In the end the only option left for them was to destroy it completely.”
“Jesus…”
“And we can make the same thing happen again and again if we learn to fight smarter. We don’t have any choice. Our only alternative is to wait out here in the wastelands until they decide to come out into the open again and hunt us down, but by then it’ll be too late. We have to act now.”
“So what do you want from me?”
He looks straight at me and puts down the laptop, giving up on the video. This feels ominous. He’s going to ask me to sign up and join his happy brigade of killers, I know he is. Thing is, apart from Adam, I’ve spent weeks fighting alone. Do I really want to go back to being one face in hundreds again? I’ve never been any good at taking orders.
“We want you to fight with us,” he says, unsurprisingly. I bite my tongue. “The more of us there are, the better our chances will be. Tell me about yourself, Danny. What your skills are, where you’re heading…”
“Don’t know where to start.”
For a moment I truly am flummoxed. No aspect of my former life has any bearing on me today, and as far as skills are concerned, what does he expect me to tell him? That I’ve got a Certificate in Dismemberment? A PhD in Asphyxiation Techniques? The sudden protracted silence is uncomfortable.
“Well, what did you do before all of this?”
“I worked in an office.”
“Okay, what line of business?”
“Processing parking fines.”
Preston pauses to try to get his head around the banality of my prewar existence.
“Not much call for that these days,” he sighs without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Any special skills? Military or police experience?”
I feel suddenly inadequate. What we do is instinctive, not taught. My answer is automatic and stupid.
“I was in the Scouts for a while.”
“Don’t screw around,” he warns. “I’m serious.”
“No, nothing.”
“So now you’re just drifting without a purpose? Spending your time hiding behind the corpses of our people?”
“I wasn’t hiding,” I snap quickly, annoyed by his tone. “We were just passing through.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Truth is, I have been as directionless as he’s implying-but now I’ve got a reason to keep moving.
“Actually,” I announce, “I’m heading home.”
“Home? Why the hell would you want to do that? What possible reason could you have for wanting any connection with your past life?”
“I want to find my daughter.”
He looks up, his interest suddenly piqued.
“Why?”
What do I tell him now? Have I made a mistake admitting I want to look for Ellis? Does he think I’m less of a man because of it? A weaker fighter? That I’m in league with the enemy even? Do I even know why I want to find Ellis? What am I hoping to achieve? Life with her could never be like it used to be again, so why am I bothering? As much as the thought of who and what I used to be now disgusts me, I wonder if that’s the real reason I want to be with her again. Maybe I’m just trying to bridge the gap between today and all that happened in the years before now. This uncomfortable silence seems to last forever. I open and close my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Then Preston speaks for me.
“She’s like us, isn’t she?”
7
PRESTON STARES AT ME intently. What the hell is he thinking? So he knows that Ellis is one of us, so what? Why should that make any difference to him? Whatever the reason, his tone has definitely changed. He’s suddenly more serious and direct. He left the van momentarily to speak to someone, then came back and pulled the door shut. It’s suffocatingly hot in here now.
“Tell me about her, Danny.”
I don’t like this. I’ll drip-feed him information and find out why he wants to know. Years of living in the old world have taken their toll, and my guard is up. Part of me can’t help wondering whether I’ve managed to stumble on the last remaining pedophile ring in existence. When I don’t answer he asks another question.
“How old?”
“Just turned five.”
“And you think you know where she might be?”
“Possibly,” I answer quickly. I can afford to give him some vague details. Even if I knew exactly where Ellis was, I could tell him anything. He doesn’t know anything about her. He doesn’t know what she looks like. Christ, I haven’t even told him her name.
“She somewhere near here?”
“Might be.”
Preston leans over to the front seat and picks up a map, which he unfolds.
“Show me.”
“I’m not telling you anything until you tell me why you’re so interested in my daughter. What are you, some kind of pervert? A kiddie-fiddler?”
His face remains impassive and serious. There’s not a flicker of emotion.
“It’s not just your daughter we’re interested in,” he finally starts to explain. “Our belief is that children are key to our future. They’re important now, and they’ll be even more crucial when this war’s won.”
“Go on.”
“Have you ever seen a child fight? They’re fast, strong, agile… completely uninhibited. They’re not burdened with years and years of memories of the old way of things; all they know is now. They accept what they see and experience today, and they accept it without question. This is their normality.”
What he says makes some kind of sense, but I don’t trust this guy. His slimy, slick way of speaking immediately gets my back up. He comes across like a politician, a subpar spin doctor. I know we’re both fighting on the same side, but how different are our aims and objectives?
“You talk a lot, but you’re not actually saying anything. Why should I tell you anything about my little girl?”
