I can see two soldiers crouched down on my side of the jeep, using the car for cover. They begin to return fire, single shots, and almost instantly a hail of gunfire ricochets around the farm. It reminds me of a Western gunfight, one of those old Saturday afternoon films I used to watch when I was a kid. Then the windshield of the jeep is shattered by a bullet and I only realize the driver was still inside when his now-dead body half-falls out of the door. One of the others runs for cover, but he’s shot as he sprints towards this dilapidated shed. The last soldier scrambles up and runs back to the nearest bike. He drags it upright and jumps on, showering his fallen comrades with mud as he hauls it around in a tight circle and aims at the farmyard gate.
I get out of the van, run round to the back, and help the children climb out. Holding Chloe’s hand tight in one hand, Jake by the other, I wait just inside the shed door where I can still see out. In the distance, at the highest point of the dirt track before it drops down toward the bunker, a lone figure is frantically waving at me.
“Okay, now we’ve got to run,” I tell the children, and as we pound across the churned-up farmyard, Jake pulls free and sprints ahead. Now I can see the man waving us on is Dean. Last time I saw him, that rifle was aimed at me.
“Behind you!” he shouts. I turn around and see a man, gaining on me fast. I must have lost track in the confusion; I didn’t think there were any left.
“Keep running and don’t stop,” I tell Chloe, shoving her away, and I turn around to try to fend off Ankin’s soldier, but I’ve misjudged his speed and he’s on top of me before I can do anything to defend myself. He’s got a riot baton, which he swings around and thumps into my gut. The incredible pain immediately makes me fold in two and I’m flat on my back in the mud before I know what’s happened. He drops down hard on my chest, forcing every scrap of oxygen from my lungs.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he screams into my face. “They’re Unchanged, you fucking traitor!”
My arms are pinned down by his knees, and there’s nothing I can do to protect myself when he punches me in the face. He spits in my eye, blinding me for an instant, and I don’t see his fist coming until he smacks me in the mouth again. My lip is split, and the pain is intense. Killing the Unchanged is more important to him than dealing with me. He springs up again and runs after them, but, more through luck than judgment, I manage to stretch out an arm behind me and catch hold of one of his feet. He trips and slams down face-first into the dirt. He’s far faster and far stronger than I am and he’s back up in seconds, shaking me off with ease but turning back and booting me in the right kidney for my troubles. I’m enough of a distraction to give Dean a chance to get closer. He steps forward and fires into the soldier’s face from point-blank range. The corpse drops on top of me, what’s left of his dead head smacking hard against mine, and I fight to stay focused and keep breathing through the sudden, all- consuming darkness.
44
I SIT UP QUICKLY, but the pain’s too much and I immediately drop down again, my skull cracking back against the hard concrete floor. I open my eyes, but it’s dark and everything’s blurred. I can see someone standing over me, looking down. Unchanged. Something inside me instinctively makes me try to get up and fight before I remember what happened. I try to move again, but I can’t. Hurts too much. I can tell from the position of the light and the damp smell in here that this is the small room at the entrance to the Unchanged bunker. The person looking down at me moves closer, his features slowly becoming more distinct. Is that Joseph Mallon?
“Joseph?”
“Lie still, Danny,” he says, his face distressingly haggard and hollow but his voice immediately recognizable. He gently rests his hand on my shoulder. “Tracey’s done what she could for you.”
“Tracey?”
“Our doctor. She’s cleaned your wounds as best she can, but you’re in a bad way.”
I try to get up again, this time managing to prop myself up on my elbows. I slowly shuffle my broken body around and lean back against a wall. I lift my hands to my swollen face and pick dry blood from my eyes. I don’t know whether it’s the beating I’ve just taken, the drugs finally wearing off, or a combination of both, but I feel bad. Really bad. Worse than ever. There’s a woman watching me. Tracey, I presume. She storms out of the room.
“If the stupid bastard won’t listen, there’s nothing I can do to help him.”
Joseph acknowledges her, but I ignore her.
“What happened?” I ask him, having to concentrate hard to make each word.
“Peter knew something was going on out there. He heard all the engines and the planes and helicopters and saw the fighting in the distance. He’d been staying aboveground in the old farmhouse since yesterday, keeping a lookout. Then you showed up here, and all hell broke loose.”
“The children. I had two kids with me…”
“They’re safe in the back rooms with the others. Where did you find them, Danny? Are there more?”
“It’s a long story that you really don’t want to hear,” I answer, catching my breath as a wave of pain washes over me. “And no, they’re the last.”
“Well, maybe I would like to hear that story one day, but not today. Today we have problems to solve first. Really big problems.”
“Where’s Peter?”
Joseph moves to one side. Lying on the floor on the opposite side of the room is a body under a bloodstained sheet.
“Shit.”
“Poor bastard got caught in all that shooting. They got him before Dean could get them.”
Mallon passes me a bottle of water. I swill some around in my mouth, then spit it out to clear the blood. I drink a little, and its icy temperature seems to wake my body and makes me feel slightly more alive. I try to focus on my surroundings. The boy Jake is standing in the doorway watching me, hiding behind Parker.
“What’s happening out there, Danny?” Mallon asks.
I look straight at him. “I didn’t tell anyone about you, if that’s what you think.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“It’s nothing you haven’t heard before,” I tell him. “Just the same old same old.”
“What?”
“You were right, you know, back then at the convent. All those things you used to say about not fighting and making a stand and trying to break the cycle. I thought you were a fucking crank at the time, but you were right.”
“I don’t follow. What’s that got to do with today?”
“We’re imploding. What’s left of the human race is tearing itself apart up there, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. The last army in the country is marching on the last town in the country, and there’s probably very little of either of them left by now. It’s like you said, every man for himself. The thing is, the less there is left to fight for, the higher the stakes seem to get.”
“That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing out here, or how you came to have these children with you.”
“I made a decision a while back, before I knew you were here in this place, in fact. I decided I’d had enough of fighting, had enough of everything. I was trying to get away. The kids were just a complication.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Believe what you like. I couldn’t leave them out there on their own, so I was just delivering them to you before I fucked off for good. That’s what I’m still planning to do.”
“Well, that might not be so easy now.”
“Why not?”
“Because of our position. They know where we are now, Danny. They’ve seen us here. We’re up shit creek without a paddle, and we need your help.”
Why can’t everybody just leave me be?
“I’m past helping. I’m tired of being used. It just gets me deeper and deeper into the mire and doesn’t do anyone any good. I’m sick and I’m dying, Joseph, and I just want to be left alone. There are enough of you here to be able to look after yourselves.”
