“Dorran…”
“I cannot see clearly. So I must leave the choice to you. Wherever you go, whatever feels right to you, I will follow.”
She tried to smile, but it was shaky. “My choice… You’re spoiling me. I’m going to turn into the most selfish person imaginable.”
“I don’t think you’re capable of being selfish.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
He grinned and bent forward to rest his forehead against hers. Their noses brushed. His eyes were so close that she could see the individual flecks of colour in them.
“I love you, Dorran,” she whispered.
“And I love you, my darling Clare.”
“I want to go to Beth.”
“Then we will.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dorran found a map of the area in one of his relative’s studies. He spread it on the ground in front of their fireplace and weighted down its corners with books. He and Clare knelt over it, each holding a red pen as they worked on it.
“That’s where Beth’s street would be.” Clare made a mark near the top right-hand side of the map. On the paper, there was nothing but olive-green blocks to signify marshy forest. The map was decades old and out-of-date. It was missing streets and landmarks, but Clare still knew the area well enough to orient herself. The forests had been cut down and the marsh drained nearly two decades before to allow for Beth’s suburb to be built. “Don’t worry. I’ll know where to go once we get in there.”
“Do you remember the streets well enough to sketch them?”
“I can try.”
As she drew the main road and its dozen offshoots, Clare fought against the doubtful thoughts that wanted to intrude. Trying to reach Beth was a massive undertaking. Her sister might already be dead. She might have opened the bunker’s hatch as soon as she switched off the radio and welcomed in a wave of hollows. And if she hadn’t, the room was a ticking countdown. Clare tried to calculate how much air the box might hold a half dozen times in the previous hour. Half a day? Two days? More?
Clare was trying to coach herself into patience. They would only get to Beth alive if they were cautious. But with the snow washing away and the car waiting for them in the forest, it was nearly impossible to resist the temptation to rush into action.
The hollows hadn’t left the shed, though, and they still needed the motor before they could leave. Every half hour, she and Dorran walked down to a room at the end of the hall and gazed across the field surrounding the two sheds. Patches of the roof were visible. Grey, spindly creatures dripping with rain stalked around the buildings.
“They’ll go back into the forest eventually,” Dorran had said. “There’s no food for them in the sheds.”
But with the radio’s static attracting the creatures, Clare had no idea how soon that might be.
She finished sketching Beth’s suburb the best she could. She was pretty sure there were at least two more streets she’d forgotten, but it made a rough outline, at least. The development held about three hundred houses. She tried not to think about how many hollows that could have produced.
“We’re here,” Dorran said, drawing an X in the large block of green signifying Banksy Forest.
“And Marnie is here.” Clare put the mark down before she could stop herself. Dorran watched her. She smiled sadly. “Not that she’ll be… anyway.”
Unlike Beth, Marnie had no bunker. Going to her farmhouse would be pointless. That didn’t stop it from hurting, though.
Clare cleared her throat. “All right, so this is the route I normally take when I’m visiting Beth. Most of it is a freeway, so it’s a smooth drive. The map is missing a road, but it starts about here and goes up to here.”
She drew a line along the path they were to take. Marnie’s farm was about an hour from the highway, and she tried not to squirm as she effectively cut her aunt out of the journey.
Keep focussed. Spend your strength on what’s possible, not on the past.
“Is any of it at risk of flood?” Dorran asked. “I’m not sure how far the snow extends, but if it’s melting, low streets are likely to be unpassable.”
“I’ve never had trouble with floods before.” She capped her pen. “But, uh, I guess the snows have never been this deep before, either.”
“We will deal with it if it becomes a problem, then.” He bent over the map, examining it. “There are a few alternate routes in a worst-case scenario. That is good. I want to be as cautious as possible. We will pack food for several days. I believe you said the car had bottled water, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“We will not have time to seal the rest of the concealed passageways before we leave, like I had initially hoped. No matter. The hollows will have reign over the house while we are gone. We can deal with them when we return.”
She bit her lip. “What about the garden?”
“I have given some thought to it. Before we leave, I will fit as much wood as possible into the furnace. It will be hot. Much, much hotter than the garden needs. But the vent will funnel the excess outside. The garden tends to hold its heat. Hopefully, we will have returned before it cools too much. It has an automatic watering system. I never bothered with it since it wastes fuel, but it will be useful now.”
“That sounds good.”
Dorran took a breath. “We will not be able to leave tonight.”
Clare had to bite her tongue to stop herself from arguing with him. The ticking clock was incessant in the back of her head, and the idea of not moving
