keep the sick healthy during the harsh winter months now rapidly on their way. No one knew the current date, but it felt like late October to Ted – those drizzly, chilly weeks that led into the freezing festive season. It would be the first true test for their community. They had planted crops under the supervision of a pair of ex-farmers, but no one really knew if the produce would survive the ground frosts. No one knew if the people at the camp would manage to keep warm. It all remained to be seen.

Whatever happened in the days ahead, death to some degree was certain. Even if the demons disappeared, humanity had been knocked spiralling into a new dark age. Cut off from each other and with limited resources, things would never again be the same. Medicine was rare, food was dwindling, and Kamiyo was their sole doctor. If he died, the entire camp would have to get by on the four ex-nurses who lived there. Most of the world’s doctors had been too involved in the initial rescue efforts during the invasion to still be alive a year later. Kamiyo never spoke about why he hadn’t been one of them, and Ted wouldn’t ask.

It’s his business. We all have a past we’re trying to forget.

Ted said hello to various people on his approach to the activity centre. The building was designed to look like a woodland lodge, with thick brown logs and planked flooring. It was a cluttered space, stacked with supplies and people. The lower floor was used as a school for the children, a useful way to keep track of them during the day. Twenty-six were under the age of fourteen, and their laughter was the biggest boost to morale in Kielder. They were the camp’s mascots – a treasure that must be protected at all costs. To lose the children would be to lose all hope.

Dr Kamiyo was rushing across the landing when Ted started upstairs. When he saw Ted, he skidded on his heels and waved a hand to follow. “I’ve been waiting for you to turn up. Follow me.”

Ted frowned as Kamiyo hurried to the room at the far end of the landing. The door was closed, but he shouldered it open easily, standing aside so that Ted could enter. “Our patient is awake. I wanted to wait for you to question them.”

Ted stepped inside and was greeted by the smell of medicinal alcohol and bleach. The woman lying in bed was indeed awake, but she appeared groggy and unwell. Twice, her pudgy jowls bulged as if she might vomit, and she showed no recognition of where she was. Yet neither did she seem afraid. The scouts had found her a week ago on the outskirts of the forest, unconscious in the middle of the road. She’d been stuck in an endless sleep until now.

“Hello, miss, my name’s Ted. We found you in trouble and brought you to our camp. You’re safe and among friends. There’s no reason to fret.”

The woman frowned. Middle-aged, and a little on the heavier side, she was not entirely unattractive, but something about her seemed harsh and unappealing. “What camp?” she asked in a phlegmy voice.

“Kielder Forest, do you know it?”

She shook her head. “I’m not really an outdoorsy type of bird.”

“What’s your name? Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Vaguely.”

“Okay, why don’t we start with your name then, and how you ended up in the road.”

The woman pushed herself up a little higher on her elbows. She blinked as if trying to wake up fully. “The name’s Angela, former minister in the Church of England and drinker of vodka. I went to Hell for being a dyke. Anyone got a cigarette?”

The weather was cooling. Nowhere was that more apparent than from the deck of The Hatchet. The sea seemed to leap up on purpose, aiming with the precision of a child’s catapult and hitting Maddy with its icy spray. The only colour was grey – grey boats, grey sky, grey sea. Grey mood. Maybe, once dawn broke, the world would bring back its colour.

Maddy was surprised that tragedy could still affect her, that she could still grieve when there had already been so much death, yet she grieved fully. She’d fallen in love with Amanda Wickstaff. That son of a bitch Thomas had taken her away; a week ago now, but still heavy in the pit of her stomach.

One day, I’ll kill him. I promise, Amanda, he’ll pay for what he’s done.

“We’re here,” said Tosco, putting a hand on Maddy’s back and making her jolt.

“Where is here?” she asked.

“About twenty miles north of Newcastle. The demon messenger that Mass sent to Portsmouth spoke about a group of people hiding out in a forest west of here. Kielder Forest Park. We’ve delayed long enough. It’s going to be dangerous, but everyone is rested up and raring to go.”

Maddy chuckled. Tosco’s attempts at pronouncing English locations was jarring – New Castle. Ports Mouth. She still couldn’t believe he’d abandoned Portsmouth to help her. The American had been in charge of half the fleet, respected and admired, but now he was drifting in the dreary North Sea, searching for a group of people who may or may not be hiding out in a forest.

“I hope they’re still alive,” Maddy muttered, “and willing to receive visitors.”

Tosco leant on the railing and gazed across the water to where England’s east coast waited to meet them. “Portsmouth can’t be the only place. There has to be more.”

“Is that why you came? To find out?”

He turned to look at her and seemed to struggle with something for a moment. “I came because you needed someone on your side, Maddy. I respected General Wickstaff, and I let her down. You warned me Thomas was a threat. I should’ve fought him the second he arrived.”

Maddy sighed, feeling exhausted; so tired of talking, so tired of breathing. “You’re not to blame for this, James. Only

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