"That's the edge of the village," Lisa whispered. "We're here."
"What now? "Anita asked. "Where should we go? You said we should lie low till morning."
"Dawn can't be that far away. I know a place. It should be safe. Just follow me."
Lisa moved along the hedgerow feeling for something in the darkness until she found what she was seeking: a small kissing gate nestling in the hedge.
They moved into a small open area and Lisa led them along a rough path. They climbed some steps and reached another larger open space. The path narrowed the further they went then stopped abruptly in a small circular clearing. At the centre of the clearing was a bench.
"What's this?" Anita breathed.
"I know it sounds silly, but it's my special place." Lisa's voice faltered. "I like to come down here to think. No-one else ever seems to come here. It's on the edge of the village nature reserve. I can't believe I'm back here." Her voice broke and she stifled a sob.
Anita put her good arm around her shoulder.
"You did it. We've almost made it. If only …" Her voice broke, too
"I'm so sorry about James," Lisa said.
The girl began to weep.
They huddled together on the bench. Anita cried and Lisa held her. There was nothing to say. No words to comfort her. They waited for dawn and whatever the coming day would bring. The home she shared with Neil was just a few hundred metres away. She could sprint the distance in minutes. If only it was going to be that easy. Somehow, she doubted it.
Chapter 14 - Day 16 - Attwood Common
As the light began to change and the dawn chorus welcomed the new day, Lisa gently eased Anita's head from her shoulder. She uncoiled her stiff limbs and stood up.
Anita opened her eyes. She straightened up, groaning in discomfort. She looked puzzled for a moment, as if she didn't know where she was. Then a look of anguish washed over her face as she remembered.
"Oh, Jesus!" She covered her face with her hands.
"Oh, Nita! I'm so sorry!" Lisa put a hand on her shoulder.
The girl looked awful. Pale with dark circles around her puffy, bloodshot eyes.
"Let's have a look at your wrist."
Lisa gently lifted her hand and began to undo the makeshift bandage. "How does it feel?"
"Not great." Anita winced.
The wound was surprisingly small and clean. It looked as though the bullet had gone straight through. The bleeding had stopped, but her entire hand was hot and swollen. Lisa reapplied the bandana.
"We'll be able to get it cleaned and fixed up properly when we get home," she said.
Anita smiled weakly and nodded. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"If you can, we should get going. Are you up for this?" Lisa asked.
Anita looked down the path back towards the village.
"Yeah, of course I am. Come on."
They walked back down the path. On the way Lisa pulled a couple of sturdy branches from a tree and fashioned them into rough points, by stripping away the twigs at one end.
"They're not great, but they're better than nothing," she said, as she handed one to Anita.
There was a footbridge on their right. Facing them, on the other side of the canal, was a horseshoe-shaped apartment complex, about four storeys high. On the ground floor, various small shops and offices faced out over a central courtyard. A long, shallow water feature ran down the middle of the courtyard. Usually, the water flowed towards the canal and cascaded down some steps at the end, but today it wasn't moving. The steps were dry. The whole complex looked deserted.
At the centre of the water feature, a small arched bridge provided a walkway to the other side. There were four entrances to the horseshoe, an alley at each end of the small bridge and two more at the far end on either side of a large, designer furniture shop. Lisa and Neil would occasionally browse the shop on a Saturday afternoon, snorting at the extortionate prices. They'd once bought a duvet set there as a special treat. It was made from soft, white, Egyptian cotton, adorned with delicate coral pink embroidery. It was the most expensive bed linen they possessed, and they saved it for special occasions, like their monthly "duvet days" when, in between bouts of lovemaking, they drank wine, ate finger food and binged on box-sets.
"We need to take the exit to the right of the furniture shop."
Lisa pointed to it.
Anita nodded. She was scanning the buildings.
"Then, its straight ahead, across a road and up a narrow, little street."
"Ok. How far?"
"A couple of hundred metres, maybe?"
"And, then?"
"We'll come to a bar, The Tempest. Then, we go left, and the house is just across the road."
"Let's do it," Anita said.
They paused on the footbridge over the canal. A hundred or more windows looked down at them, but they saw no movement behind any of them. The pool was stagnant, full of leaves and litter. Plastic carrier bags, brown cardboard coffee cups and general waste were scattered on the ground. A few windows on the ground floor were broken and one or two were boarded up.
Here and there, brown blood stains smeared the silver-grey paving stones. Anita tapped Lisa on the shoulder and pointed up to where a dormant infected stood on a balcony high above them. Draped from the balcony railing, was a sheet with the words 'Survivors Inside' painted on it in red.
They had entered the complex when Lisa saw another two infected at the entrance to the alley on the far left.
