Blood Memory: The Complete Season One (Books 1-5) (39 page)

Erica led them through the camp. The tents they passed were empty. Shadows danced and flickered, becoming firm and less active the closer to the centre they got. Anne could feel the heat long before she saw the fire.

They rounded the final tent to find all the inhabitants sat on benches. There was a small inner circle close to the fire, and a wider circle that ran around it. Women with swollen stomachs sat on the outer benches, fanning themselves with old magazine pages and lumps of card.

On the inner benches sat the men. There were only four of them. Two, including Roland, were in their mid to late forties. Another man, silver-haired and apparently proud of it with his shirt half unbuttoned and a fuzzy matt protruding like an angry squirrel, could not have been less than seventy. The last man wasn
’t a man at all but a boy of fifteen. They all sat eager and excited, a palpable tension in the air.

Muttered
conversations dried up the moment Jordan and the others entered the circle.

Erica turned to Jordan and Stan.
“Wait here a moment, please.” To Anne and Jessie she said, “Follow me,” and led them toward the outer circle bench.

Jordan stepped forward to argue.

“We’ll be all right,” Anne said, alleviating his concern.

As she took a seat and arranged Jessie
’s skirt on the bench, she noticed the women around her watch Jordan and Stan with hungry eyes as if they were Greek gods. A tiny trickle of unease wormed into her stomach.

The moment Jordan and Stan sat down on the centre bench, Lindsay stepped forward and nodded. Food was brought out on plastic plates: a leafy salad with some kind of vinegar dressing. It was the best thing any of them had tasted after the past few days of snacks.

A stool was brought out for Lindsay and placed opposite Jordan and Stan. “Please, eat as much as you want,” she said.

“
You don’t need to tell us twice,” Stan said. “It’s delicious.”

“
We grow everything ourselves. Completely organic and free of pesticide.” Lindsay’s voice was soft and well-spoken, her words clipped, short and to the point.

“
What were you?” Jordan said around a mouthful of lettuce. “Before the Incident?”

“
A poor misguided fool. A slave to the rat race. At the moment of the Incident we were on a short weekend break away from the city. If we hadn’t been away… well, it’s difficult to say what might have happened. Like everyone else we were taken completely by surprise.”

“
You keep saying ‘we’,” Stan said. “Who were you with?”

“
Roland and I.” She looked over at the large bearded man, who stared back, expressionless. He was already halfway through his vegetables. “We were husband and wife, once.”

“
But no longer?”

“
We have other responsibilities now,” Roland said, tossing a cherry tomato into his mouth and glaring at Stan.

“
How did you come to be here?” Jordan asked Lindsay.

“
We stumbled out into the wild because the towns and cities were so dangerous,” Lindsay said. “We survived for a while in the treetops, living like Robin Hood and his Merry Men. We were halfway through building our little floating village when the Biters came. Their combined weight pushed the trees over, crushing the people inside their homes. We hoped they’d have their fill and leave, but they didn’t. After three treehouses had been pushed over in as many days we decided to make a break for it.

“
We were chased by a pack of Biters through the woods to the marsh. We thought it was the end. We stumbled through the bog, and they followed us. The old and the infirm and the children couldn’t keep up. The Biters were gaining, and it was all we could do to keep in front of them. They kept coming and wouldn’t stop. Every few minutes we heard someone scream and we knew they’d caught another one of us. We daren’t look back for fear it would be someone we knew, someone we loved, so we pushed on.

“
Eventually the screams stopped. There was just the sound of us fighting for breath and the slurp of the mud that pulled at our boots, and the horrible deep moan of the Biters…”

She shook her head, slid her hands under the wide cuffs of her robe and rubbed her forearms.

“I lost my boots but kept going, barefoot. I cut my foot on a rock or piece of discarded rubbish or something. The smell drove the Biters crazy and they chased us even harder. And then we got across and crawled onto the dry land. That was when we finally stopped and looked back. We had no more energy to keep going. If they were going to fall on us, they might as well do it. But they didn’t come. They were trapped like bugs on flypaper. I can’t begin to tell you the relief we felt at that moment.

“
And when we turned around and saw the beautiful scene before us… I can still remember it now. The sun was behind a big fluffy white cloud, the rays of sunlight falling over the landscape of rolling green hills. It was like God was smiling down on us. Between the fast-flowing river and boggy marsh, we were safe.

“
I’d never been much of a churchgoer before that day, but I knew then that He had chosen us for a great purpose. Those deemed unworthy had entered through the cleansing bog and had not resurfaced on the other side. Of course, Eden wasn’t perfect – there were still man-made constructions that permitted entry.”

“
The bridges,” Jordan said.

“
Yes. We destroyed them. And dug trenches wherever the river or marsh thinned. Nature protects us on every side. The river to the south and east, the marshes to the north and west. We are safe here.”

“Aren’t you worried the fire will attract
the Biters?”

“Let them come
,” Roland said, swilling a large mouthful of a clear liquid Jordan suspected was alcohol. “They cannot breach nature’s defences. They may have driven us back at the beginning, but now we hold the cards. We can reproduce. They cannot. They cannot last long without more bodies to infect. And here, we are protected.”

“
What if the Lurchers in the Marsh get free?” Jordan said. “What if they get into the camp?”

Roland smiled, more of a scowl.
“They won’t.”

“
How can you be so sure?”

“
Because they never have before.”

“
There’s a first time for everything.”

Roland spat.

Lindsay reached over and placed a hand on Jordan’s hand. Roland glared at it like it was a snake. “Which is why we maintain vigilance at all times. Nothing is more precious to us than the safety of our children.”

“
You have a great deal of faith,” Jordan said.

“
When times were lean – and believe me, at the beginning they were lean – faith was all
we had.”

Jordan looked around at the inhabitants. Some were stuffing their faces, others red-faced from alcohol. They were a community, he
realised, a family who clubbed together.

“
Everyone here has a story to tell.” Lindsay pointed to a large woman heavily pregnant talking animatedly with Anne. “Clarissa’s husband complained of having the flu. When she went to check on him she found she had to make swift use of the samurai sword he kept above the fireplace. She still has it. It still has her husband’s blood on it.”

Beside Anne, Jessie sat surrounded by children. One girl was platting her hair while another filed her nails. They were gibbering like a family of squirrels and seemed to take no notice of Jessie
’s lack of reaction.

Lindsay followed Jordan
’s line of sight. “You care for her, don’t you?”

Jordan didn
’t reply.

“
It’s nothing to be ashamed of. But you can share the love you feel for her amongst many people.”

“
Is that what you do? Is that what Roland does?”

Lindsay nodded.
“Roland is an excellent protector.”

“
Protector?”

“
We don’t like to use the title of ‘father’. We find that the children might get confused or jealous if they identify with one father figure over another. In truth, we do not know who the protector of our children is.”

Jordan frowned.
“You don’t know?”

“
Impregnation is the purpose of our intercourse. It matters not who impregnated us. Though we may hope it is one particular protector, we do not choose. We leave it up to God to decide.”

“
That’s nice of you.”

“
This way the children have several protectors instead of one. Much less chance of being disappointed, wouldn’t you say?”

Jordan moved the vegetables around his plate with his fork.
“You said Roland was once your husband. You don’t mind him sleeping with other women?”

“
Why should I? He’s doing God’s work.” Jordan picked up no hint of irony or anger, but rather a sense of pride. “Sex is only a physical act to allow us to have children. I am proud that he can do his service for the good of mankind.”

“
I’m sure he’s proud too.”

Roland glared at Jordan. His hand had made a fist. He opened his mouth.

“But alas,” Lindsay interjected. “He is out of his prime. His seed is not what it used to be. Which is why we must always have new blood.”

“
Does he mind you sleeping with other men?” Jordan asked.

The muscles in Roland
’s jaw tightened.

Lindsay hesitated only a moment.
“He knows I do God’s work.”

“
You have strong appetites,” Lindsay said, looking at them over her glass. “That’s good.”

“
We haven’t eaten well in a long time,” Jordan said. “We ought to make the most of it while we can.”

As Jordan spoke he noticed Lindsay’s eyes drifting down to his lips
, and when she looked up into his eyes he thought he saw a hunger there. A burning desire. The look tugged on a memory, something from his past he’d long since forgotten. It was on the tip of his prefrontal cortex, but he couldn’t recall it, and as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

“
You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you wish.”

“
Thank you, but we have a boat to catch.”

Lindsay said nothing, and nibbled on a horseradish.
“Did you know swamps and marshes have played quite a role in English history? During the Middle Ages Ely was an island. It’s true.”

“
That’s right,” Stan said, looking up from his salad for the first time. “It’s only been the past three hundred years or so since it hasn’t been marshland.”

“
You know your history,” Lindsay said with a smile.

“
I used to be a history teacher. But alas, my knowledge of the Isle of Ely is a little spare.”

“
Perhaps I can enlighten you. It was surrounded by heavy marshland, not all dissimilar from us here. Over the centuries the land dried out and joined with the rest of the country.”

Jordan wasn
’t listening. He’d spotted a girl hiding behind a tent. She was watching him.

“
Who is that girl?” Jordan asked, pointing her out.

The girl moved back behind the tent, but not fast enough as Lindsay caught a glimpse of her face.

“She peeked into our tent while we were washing,” Jordan said.

“
That’s Lizzie.” Lindsay held out a hand. “Lizzie, come here, love. Don’t be shy.”

Lizzie hesitated a moment, her eyes affixed firmly on Jordan. She stepped out from behind the tent like a frightened deer.

“Lizzie,” Lindsay said, “is a rather special girl, aren’t you?” Her frizzy brown hair hung down to her shoulders. Her eyes were so big you could fall into them.

“
This is Jordan,” Lindsay said. “He’s a friend. Is it okay if he sees?”

Lizzie looked at Jordan, seemed to weigh him up, and then nodded. She lifted up the bottom of her robe to reveal a large half-moon shaped scar on her calf. Jordan recognised it immediately.

Lindsay smiled. “Thank you, Lizzie. You may go play now.”

Jordan
’s voice was a croak. “She was bitten?”

“
She was playing too close to a Biter. Sometimes the children shoot at them with paintball guns. She had the fever and was Turning. We prayed for her for days. Finally, after a week, she opened her eyes. She was still alive. We celebrated for one night and one day, thanking God for bestowing his gift to us. Miracles are everywhere if we care but to look.”

“
But why was she watching us while we were washing?”

“
Oh. She wasn’t watching you all. She was just watching you. Lizzie is very excited about her responsibilities. She was curious to see who would be her first, I suspect.”