Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (16 page)

              “It’s up to you what you want to do,”

              Violet wiped the tears from her eyes. “You said that Borehamwood is at a high risk?”

              Winter nodded.

              “Then they have to go,” Violet said. “I can’t leave them here. Do they know about how ill my mum is?”

              Winter shook her head. She had completely forgotten to mention it. Yet she hadn’t been asked health status.

              “Well, it’s best they don’t, in case they refuse to take her,” Violet said to herself. “I’ll tell them what’s wrong with her, and I’ll make sure she gets the care she deserves.”

              “She will. Your family will be safe. We will see them again when we get to Paris.”

              “If we get to Paris,” Violet sighed.

              “Don’t say that. They’re keeping France safe. We can get there. It will be alright.”

              Violet stood up. She pulled on denim shorts and adjusted her fishnet tights. She picked up the gun from the top of her bed and strapped it into the same place as before.

              “I’ll go and tell them what’s going to happen,” Violet said. She smiled at Winter. “Thank you for sorting it out. If I had done it, I probably would have said no, selfishly wanting to stay with my family. But this way, I have to let them go. They have to escape this.”

              Violet nodded, reassuring herself with her own words. She left the room, leaving Winter stood in a mountain of clothes, looking out to the town below where people shopped, some of them maybe unaware that Borehamwood would be disturbed soon.

              Winter left Violet’s room and showered. She savoured the warm water that ran down her skin, savoured the feeling of being clean again. She didn’t know how long she stood under the strong pressure of water, just hoping it would wash away the events of the night before, the bloody monsters, the attacks, the fear. She dried, making her hair even messier than before, and gritted her teeth when she pulled on the blood-splattered dress, wishing she had new clothes.

              She walked out into the main room once more, thinking about what she would do if she came across her parents heading towards the docks, when Violet walked up to her and led her out to the small coat room near the front door.

              “My mother is fine with leaving,” Violet said. “I explained everything to her. I explained that they have to go, and that we will be leaving on a coach an hour after them, that we’ll see them soon. I had to lie. She couldn’t know that she may never see me again.”

              Winter nodded, making a mental note to stick to the story if Ashley ever asked.

              “Thank you so much, Winter,” Violet smiled. “For helping me, not judging how we live, letting me stick with you, and helping my family.”

              “You’ve done most of that by yourself. It’s yourself you need to thank.”

              Violet waved a hand, as if this wasn’t important.

              “I just never know what to do,” Violet sighed. “I’m seventeen, and I’m raising a family, I’m caring for my mum. I mean, that’s not right, is it? Sure, I get help from the woman upstairs and a few nurses who visit daily, for an hour, but I do most of the work.”

              Winter listened. She could see that Violet had needed to say these words for a while.

              “We used to live on the streets, but as soon as I had enough money, we bought this place,” Violet said, and she looked around the little coatroom proudly. “Then, a few years later, my mum got sick, and I had to up the hours on my job. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I just need you to know, Winter, that even though I go out and give myself away to any Tom, Dick or Harry, I’m always thinking of my family, and I’m always thinking of what they need. I’m not a selfish girl. I’m not a bitch. I’m just doing what I have to do to survive.”

              Violet sighed.

              “And when they’ve been evacuated, I can leave this all behind, I can escape to a better life, I can get the help of the government, and if you’d let me, I can stay with you.”

              “Of course you can stay with me.” Winter smiled.

              Violet grinned. “I feel like I’ve known you for longer than just a few days.”

              “It’s crazy what brings people together, isn’t it?” Winter laughed.

              “Why didn’t we meet over a cup of coffee like normal people?”

              “Well, meeting over the murder of a man that turned into a zombie before your eyes is a pretty good story.”

              Violet laughed. “I guess you’re right!”

              There was the sound of something hitting the door next to them, and Winter and Violet stopped, listening out. Then, the door handle turned and the door opened, and Connor returned holding a drinks bottle and looking calmer than when he had left.

              He looked slightly surprised to see them standing before him, as if he thought they had been waiting for him.

              “Did you tell her?” He asked Winter.

              “She told me,” Violet said. “My family are going, we’re staying.”

              Connor looked at Winter. She shrugged.

              “Cool,” He said, even though he didn’t seem enthusiastic about the idea. “Listen, I’ve had an idea.”

              He walked into the small coatroom, shutting the door behind them. With three of them in there the little space that was there for two was now gone. Winter felt slightly claustrophobic, being only inches away from both Violet and Connor.

              “I was thinking…if we’re staying, we need weapons, survival kits,” Connor said.

              “We’ve got my gun.” Violet said.

              “That’s not going to last us for long. You’ll run out of ammunition for your gun.”

              Violet looked like she wanted to reply, but with a look from Winter she stopped.

              “I’m thinking, if Violet is letting her family go, then you’ll be staying here a little longer?” Connor asked.

              Winter looked at Violet for her permission. After all, this was her house. She may not want to stay when her family had left her.

              “We’ll stay until the first signs of trouble, then we’re gone.” Violet nodded.

              “I got word of a small garage a few streets away that are selling weapons and supplies,” Connor said quickly. “It’s closer than the one in Elstree, and less people know about it, which means we have more chance of getting weapons.”

              “Which means?”

              “Which means I’m going to leave now, and get us some weapons.” Connor avoided both of their eyes. “It may take a few days. I should be back the day after tomorrow, with any luck.”

              “No,” Winter breathed. “You can’t leave on your own.”

              “It’s really not that far away. There aren’t any zombies here yet, so the travel there and back will be relatively safe.”

              “And what if the zombies come while you’re away? It’s not only the dead you have to fear, Connor. With the laws crumbling and authority figures are dying, crime is at an all-time high. People are turning against one another, no matter if they’re dead or alive.”

              “Winter, it will take me a day to get there, and a day to get back,” Connor said. “I will be back the night after Violet’s family leaves, if I leave here today.”

              “We’ll come with you,” Violet said. “We’ll come after we say goodbye to my mum and my brothers.”

              “That’s too slow. We’re wasting valuable time to leave this place and get to the docks. This makes more sense. One of us leaves, and comes back with weapons, then we leave together.”

              “Connor, it’s dangerous.” Winter said sternly. “You can’t leave this place alone.”

              “What else do you suggest we do, Winter? Do we wait for the zombies to come, and then curse that we didn’t have weapons to escape? Or do we take the risk of one of us getting weapons, coming back safely and having the weapons for when we head to the docks? People aren’t going to be trading weapons forever. They’re soon going to be gone. Nothing is stable here anymore.”

              “He’s right,” Violet muttered. Winter looked at Violet with surprise. “We have to take the risk. If we need to get to those docks alive, we need protection. We need weapons.”

              “We can just escape with the evacuation squads!” Winter said.

              “Do you really think we’re going to find one with enough spaces for all of us?” Connor asked. “Do you really think they’re going to give a damn if one of us is left behind?”

              “Of course they will, they’re here to help!” Winter shouted. Violet glared at her to keep her voice down.

              “That man on the phone didn’t sound very helpful to me,” Connor said. Winter sensed an edge in his voice she hadn’t heard before. She suddenly realised she hadn’t even known Connor beforehand, that they had just met for a casual date, and then they had been laid upon each other. “The squad are only able to do what they can. London has a huge population and not even half of that will evacuate by the help of the government. People have been urged to get to the docks, and if they happen to find evacuation squads on the way to get in.”

              Winter sighed. She leant against a bare patch of wall, running a hand through her messy hair.

              “Connor, leave now,” Violet said. Winter listened, not even bothering to object, knowing her voice would be wasted. “Leave now, get the weapons. Get guns, get bullets, and get grenades if you can. Just get what you can, and come back here quickly.”

              Connor nodded. He looked at Winter. She saw out of her peripheral vision that he wanted to say something, but instead he ran a hand over his t-shirt and turned his back on them, leaving down the hallway until he was out of sight.

              “He’s going to be okay,” Violet said to Winter.

              “Is he?”

Chapter Eight

              Winter had kept to herself for the rest of the day, deciding to try and deal with Connor’s decision to leave. She had forgotten about going out for food, instead settling for dry brand noodles that were only imitations of the real thing. She had been given the bottom bunk to sleep in - Violet had cleared away clothes for her. Winter didn’t know what time it was, but she had led in bed when it was light, and had watched the sun go down until outside was pitch black, and the sounds of busy people in the town below were no more than the few odd shouts from people passing.

              She lay under the blankets, her hands under her head, her ruined designer dress lying on the floor a few feet from her. She watched the stars in the sky, while listening to the sound of the TV in the next room. Being enclosed in the small room, surrounded by blankets and clothes, Winter had felt a sense of closure envelope her. She had felt relaxed, content and safe.

              But bad thoughts had plagued her night, and Winter had found herself crying more than once.

              The memory of her past always came to her, but especially now when there was so much negativity floating around. She thought of the need to escape, the fear that she would die at the hands of someone she had loved, had feared, had hated. She remembered the scream of terror when she had seen the dead body, the sounds of footsteps outside, the hope that someone would save her, and then the feeling of change inside her. Her old innocence wrecked and ruined, her young childhood gone to be replaced by forced adulthood at fourteen.

              The old humour, innocence, laughter and kindness had been replaced with the feeling of boredom, anger, hatred, trust issues and worry that everyone was out to get her. She felt dirty and she felt lost, and no one had ever been there to tell her none of it had been her fault. No one had given her enough time to get over what had happened. Nobody had ever made sure that she was going to be fine when she aged.

              Guilt weighed inside her, tears rolled down her cheeks once more as she silently sobbed. She curled up under the blankets, trying to find comfort in someone that wasn’t there.

              She was alone now more than ever. Her whole life had been ripped away from her. The comfort had been destroyed. She had been forced to trust strangers once more, forced to escape the brutality of what was happening to the world. She had been placed on a challenge.

              She heard the door handle move from a weight on the other side and tugged the blankets up to obscure some of her face. She clamped her eyes tight shut and heard Violet walk into the room, closing the bedroom door behind her quietly and climbing up to the bed above.