Ted shrugged her away with a grumble. “Get outta it, you daft mare.”
She chuckled with glee, but then grew serious. “I’ll be back, Ted, I promise. And when I return, this place better be a god-damn fortress.”
“Then you better come back with enough supplies to feed a nation.”
Hannah put out her hand. “Deal.”
With the slightest of smiles, Ted shook his friend’s hand.
26
HANNAH
Hannah waited until the following morning to depart, and it left her time to ruminate on the undertaking. As a result, she had slept little, but her anxiety was enough to leave her buzzing with energy. It was just past dawn, and the sun remained hidden behind dark clouds—a bad omen.
Kamiyo approached her in front of the castle’s portcullis. He handed her a list. “I’m not expecting miracles,” he said, “but any of the items on this list will really help. Failing that, grab anything you can find.”
Hannah scanned the list and looked up. “Okay, Doc, got it.”
“I should go with you,” he said. “There are hundreds of medicines, and I’m the only one who can identify what most of them do.”
She hefted the large rucksack on her back and smirked. “I see a pharmacy and it’s all coming back with me. You can sort the wart medicine from the antibiotics afterwards. These kids can’t be without their doctor.”
He nodded but didn’t seem happy about it. “You bring back antibiotics and you’ll be saving lives.”
“I know. That’s why I’ll get what we need. I promise.”
“Don’t promise. Just come back.”
Ted came to see her next, looking even grumpier than usual. “I passed a small village before I stopped to fight those demons,” he told her. “If you come across my truck, head down the road behind it, and you might find something. Also, look in the back of my flatbed. There’s something in the lock box you can have. Combination: 2-0-0-6.” He grunted and walked away, leaving her to memorise the number.
Frank appeared and surprised her by handing her a sword. She had to blink and do a double-take. “I nabbed this for meself early on,” he told her with a smug grin on his face. “It’s 16th Century. Set above the mantle in the Great Hall, it was. Maybe it was owned by a lord. Or a king.”
Hannah patted her rifle. “I have this, Frank. You keep your sword.”
He thrust it at her pommel first. “Take it. Guns have a nasty way of running out of bullets.”
“Rifle,” she said.
Frank frowned. “What’s that now, kidda?”
Hannah took the sword and sighed. “Thank you, Frank.”
Jackie was standing with Philip in front of the portcullis while Eric and Steven occupied the small winch-room above. “Thank you again for doing this, Hannah,” said Jackie. “None of us are ignorant to the danger you’re putting yourself in.”
Hannah shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I was out there on my own for weeks.”
Jackie hugged her. “Thank you.”
“Oh, um, you’re welcome.” She turned and gave everyone a wave, tussled the hair of the youngest children, and then took a deep breath to steel herself. Her tummy turned somersaults as she peered towards the tree line at the bottom of the hill. Usually, when she went out on a mission, she was focused and determined, the perfect version of herself. It was how she imagined maestro piano players must have felt when they played Beethoven—it was what they were built for. Today though, she felt nervous and unsure. Afraid. Like stepping towards the edge of a cliff with black, rushing waters below.
She waited for the portcullis to rise and ducked beneath it. Everyone shouted good luck to her, but she didn’t look back. It was like saying goodbye to family, best done quickly. Two weeks, and they already felt like family.
And she was their provider.
Still not looking back, she descended the hill and passed the lower guard house still absent its portcullis. The first two rows of trees had been felled, leaving behind a minefield of stumps. Beyond that, the forest grew thick rapidly, and it swallowed her up in seconds. She looked towards the castle but could no longer see it.
She was alone again.
But no longer homeless.
A compass attached to her belt would ensure she kept a straight line out of the forest, and she would mark her exit, so she knew where to enter again later. Last thing she needed was to lose her way home. It felt good to need a compass.
Despite keeping to a straight line, in a direction she assumed would lead her to the road, an hour passed by without the forest ending. Her empty rucksack swayed on her back and holding both a rifle and sword was difficult. Despite those burdens, she felt good. Energised. She moved through the undergrowth swiftly, in tune with her surroundings. That determined focus came back to her, and she thrived. Her anxiety and fears melted away. She was a huntress.
She’d never seen true combat in the Army, having joined at the tail end of the Middle-Eastern hostilities. Iraq and Afghanistan were winding down and only a token force remained in either country. She’d been to Belize, Germany, and Canada, but only on training exercises. When the demons invaded, she’d been forced to put her training straight to the test. It had surprised her how well she’d taken to killing. How little it bothered her.
Could she kill a human the same way she so readily killed demons?
It would be a lie if she claimed her lack of remorse didn’t worry her. It did. Like Ted, something took over her in battle that she wasn’t in control of, but it wasn’t the same maddened fury that set Ted on the warpath like an enraged bull. No, it was something more akin to a tiger stalking its prey, a singular focus on making the thing in front of her dead. She didn’t know where that part of herself came from, or where it ended exactly, but
