The two women looked at his motionless body. Anita went over to him. She kicked him. Once. Still, he didn't move. She kicked him again, then again and again. She was sobbing.
Lisa stood up and freed Anita's wrists with the knife, then she threw it to the ground and wrapped her arms around her.
"He's dead! He's dead! Oh God, I killed him!"
It felt as though hours had passed while they waited for the sounds from outside to die down. Lisa went over to the window and peered out through the blind. Everyone was asleep where they had fallen in drunken stupors. It was quiet. Even the music had stopped. Most of the torches had burned out. A couple still flickered weakly.
Lisa whispered. "If we're going, we need to do it now. We don't want to be here when it gets light."
Anita nodded.
Lisa pointed in the direction of the canal and the boat they had been held captive in.
"That way. Along the canal."
Anita nodded again.
They eased the door open, and keeping low, crept around the side of the building to the row of boats. Someone coughed and moaned in their sleep. They froze. But no-one stirred.
They carried on along the row of boats, away from the buildings and the fighting ring. No-one was around. They passed the boat they had been in. The tow path ended up ahead. Lisa knew the main path was on the other side.
"We need to cross!" she hissed and pointed across the canal.
A snarl broke the silence. Something moved ahead of them. Anita scuttled to the edge of the water. Lisa peered into the darkness.
"Lisa! Lisa!" Anita whispered.
"Wait!"
"Lisa! Are you crazy? It's an infected!"
"Just a minute!"
Lisa took a few paces toward the sound. The infected snarled again. She saw a glint of metal. Two milky eyes stared at her out of the darkness. More snarling, but the eyes didn't come any closer.
It was another cage.
She got as close to it as she could. She could make out at least two more infected inside. Maybe three. The door was secured with a nylon rope. She looked at the cage. She looked back at the sleeping forms in the flickering light around the fighting ring.
"Go! Get into the water! Head for the other bank." Lisa mouthed.
"What are you …?"
"Just do it! Now! I'll be there in a minute."
Anita gawped at her.
"Go!" Lisa said again.
She gently nudged the girl towards the canal.
"And keep your hand dry," she added.
She watched as Anita eased herself over the edge, keeping her injured hand above her head. She let out a soft gasp as she lowered herself into the water. Only when Lisa was confident that the girl was moving towards the other side did she begin to untie the rope that secured the cage.
The cage door swung open. Lisa was in the water before the infected emerged. She watched from the edge of the canal as they staggered down the path towards the sleeping revellers. Then she turned and followed Anita.
The water was ice-cold. It came up to her chest. She kept her chin high to stop any water from getting into her mouth. She knew how dirty it was. She'd heard stories about the disease-carrying parasites and bacteria that lurked in canal water. Neil had once told her that you were more likely to die later from an infection than you were to die from drowning if you fell into a canal. She hoped Anita had managed to keep her injured hand dry.
She waded across as quickly as she could. The canal bed was soft and slimy underfoot. A couple of times, she stumbled on obstacles in her path, desperately steadying herself. Once, she felt something living brush across her legs. She shuddered, and stifled the urge to cry out, but kept moving.
Anita was waiting for her at the other bank, unable to haul herself out with one hand. She was shivering. Lisa hoisted her out, then dragged herself up beside her. From the other side, a scream pierced the silence. It was rapidly followed by another, then another until the night air was consumed in an uproar of screams and shouts.
"What did you do?" Anita asked.
"Nothing that they didn't deserve." Lisa's tone was grim. "Come on. We need to keep moving."
"But, it's so dark. What if …?"
"Let's just go slowly and quietly. It's about a 20-minute walk to the village."
Lisa tried to sound convincing. But she'd never felt so vulnerable and exposed: on foot, in the dark, unarmed and dripping wet. She felt for her inhaler in her pocket. Shit! It was gone. She took a deep breath. Her lungs felt loose and clear. She couldn't remember when she'd last used it. It had been hours ago and yet she felt fine. Even with everything they had been through, her asthma had stayed away. She was drained and fatigued, but her breathing was easy. She shook her head, not sure what to make of it.
"Anyway," she said, shifting her attention back to Anita. "There won't be many down here. Think about how many we've seen over the past few days.
"I suppose …" Anita said.
"The village will be different, but when we get near, we can lay low. Wait till morning to see what's going on."
She took Anita's good hand and, slowly, they began to move down the path.
They cautiously picked their way along. Their clothes were sodden - their boots waterlogged and squelching. Although it was late autumn, it was cold. They were both shivering uncontrollably. Every rustle or crack in the undergrowth stopped them in their tracks, peering blindly into the dark for the source of the sound. It felt more like an hour than 20
