“Okay, that’s disgusting, but point taken. Just give me the night then. We can figure out a plan in the morning.”
Ted looked around at the trees, which grew increasingly ominous as night set in. “I usually sleep in my truck. How the hell am I supposed to sleep out here in the stix?”
“You grab a load of weeds and moss to make a mattress. It’s a cool night, we should be okay in just our clothes. We could even start a wee fire. I have a lighter in one of my pockets somewhere.”
“I ain’t sleeping in the mud. There’s still a little light. Let’s head back to the road. The demons will have gone.”
“I really think we’ll be safer here, Ted. Besides, do you even remember which way the road is? I don’t even see the road anymore.”
Ted pointed. “We came from that direction. So, let’s…” He trailed off, squinting and sniffing. “Huh? Do you smell burning?”
Hannah took a moment, tipping her head back and breathing in deeply. Then she looked at Ted. “Do you think it’s a forest fire?”
Ted pulled a face. “We’re not in California.”
“There used to be fires every day when the fighting started.”
“But not anymore. There’s no one left to start one.”
Hannah shrugged. “What then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the demons are up to something. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe there’s someone out here in the woods. You mentioned starting a camp fire.”
“You think the burning smell is coming from a camp?” Hannah appeared incredulous at first, but then Ted saw hope creep onto her face. “Let’s go. Let’s go see!”
“Hold your horses!” He waved a hand, keeping her from sprinting off like a Labrador. “We don’t know what it is. I’d say a burning smell is bad more often than it’s good.”
“Well, I can’t walk away without checking.” She moved past him, too eager now to stop. “Stay here if you want.”
Ted sighed, and for the first time today, he was the one following her.
11
DR KAMIYO
Kamiyo could barely believe it when the group did indeed start singing around the campfire. It wasn’t Kumbaya, but one adult did strum away on an acoustic guitar.
“That’s Eric,” Jackie informed him as she handed him an honest-to-god cup of tea and pointed to a short, black fellow. “He’s a music teacher and a local volunteer here at the activity centre. He was the only member of staff that stayed behind with us. Next to him is Carrie-Anne, she’s a caterer. That’s Steven, a butcher. Frank and Philip, you already know. That’s all of the adults, along with Carol. She’s a florist.”
Kamiyo found it odd how Jackie introduced people by what they are instead of what they were, but he accepted it and tried to enjoy the good fortune he was receiving. The sound of children singing was beautiful, but also haunting, and he couldn’t ignore the distant glaze in each of their eyes, or the hollow way they smiled at one another. As settled as they appeared, they must have swum through a torrent of misery to get here. With so few adults, the children would be grieving the loss of their parents, and siblings too. Amazing that they were alive, but was the pain worth it? The suffering?
Is this life? Or just a crude imitation?
Kamiyo left the campfire to check on his three patients, weighing up the numbers in his head. Left untreated, Typhoid Fever killed one-in-five. With James dead before Kamiyo had even got there, it meant all three of his patients should pull through, and when he checked their temperatures, they seemed stable. If there was a fatality, he expected it to be Carol. Her condition was worse, and the children, being young, had a far better chance of recovery. What made Kamiyo angry though, was that there shouldn’t even be the probability of anyone dying. Simple antibiotics or bactericides wiped Typhoid off its feet in days. Instead, Carol and both of the children slipped in and out of consciousness, burning up in front of him.
The camp had isolated another five children at his request, and they now sat on the far side of the campfire, ready to retire to a pair of large tents that Jackie had allocated them. If they had Typhoid Fever, the odds predicted one of them might die—or suffer severe after-effects at the very least. For centuries, mankind had striven to lessen the odds against its survival, to make death’s job harder, but now the medical breakthroughs were meaningless. You were more likely to die trying to retrieve medicines from a hospital than you were from whatever you hoped to treat. And this wouldn’t be the end of things either. This camp, without medicine, electricity, fresh water… More people were going to get ill. In this new world, a simple infection could be deadly. A toothache could be deadly. Christ, even asthma could be deadly. They were back to the old days when kings died of syphilis and the elderly froze to death every winter. Living beside a body of standing water was a risky proposition too.
The shimmering lake still possessed that unsettling aura of consciousness, hidden secrets beneath its surface. Kamiyo scanned the shadows of the distant reeds. As much as the world had changed, for the ducks and swans, it was business as usual. Crickets trilled almost as loud as the children sang.
Movement to his left captured Kamiyo’s attention, and he saw Jackie coming towards him with something in her hands. When he saw it was a paper plate full of food, his mouth watered.
“You trotted off without dinner,” she said as she handed over what looked like dried fish and a handful of nuts and berries. “It’s all safe. Part of the activity weekend here was foraging, so we have plenty of guides about what’s good and what’s not. We’ve been eating the stuff for weeks.”
“Thank you. I’ve been eating out of tins and packets so long I’ve forgotten what fresh food tastes like. Never make me eat peaches again,
