Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (42 page)

              They were getting ill. Their bodies were rising in temperature and they had been throwing up since their arrival. Something was not right with them. She couldn’t deal with ill children.

              She wondered why she disliked them. She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t. It made her feel guilty. She couldn’t look at them without seeing her brothers. How was it that two children like this could survive and her brothers couldn’t? The kids looked like they had lived well enough lives, while her brothers hadn’t even lived. It just wasn’t fair. 

              She heard Zach walk back in and felt him wrap his arms around her waist. He leant his chin on her shoulder.

              “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

              “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Violet whispered back.

              He kissed her on the cheek.

              “Zach,” She sighed.

              Zach let go. He stood back as Violet turned around.

              “Look, we can’t stay here forever…and, well, we’re going to be here awhile if those kids are ill, aren’t we?”

              “We’re not getting rid of them Violet,” Zach said, keeping his voice low. “They’re children. They’re relying on us to keep them alive.”

              “I can’t take that responsibility, Zach. I can’t make them better. I can’t give them a home when we get to Paris. I’m not their mother.”

              “I’m not their father, but we have to be their carers. They’re alone now.”

              “Zach, we need to get rid of them.”

              “Listen to what you’re saying! You’re going crazy. You seriously think its okay to leave the kids behind so they die?”

              “I didn’t say we’d leave them to die, did I?” Violet snapped. She had thought that was the simplest way, but she thought fast and came up with new ideas. “We give them to someone else. We give them to those women we see.”

              “They’re not dogs. We can’t just hand them over.”

              “Their parents did.”

              “Their parents were dead. They had no one else.”

              “Why did Winter have to fucking save them? Why does she have to do the right thing?”

              “Because she isn’t you.”

              Violet turned to glare at him. He seemed to regret what he had said but stood his ground.

              “All I mean is, Winter has kept a cool head about her, except for what she thinks of you. She would never just leave the kids to die. It’s stupid. It’s unthinkable.”

              “Well I’ve thought of it,” Violet said. “I’m not taking them to the Thames with me, Zach. I’m leaving without them.”

              “I’m not going to leave them.”

              “Then you can stay here. You can stay here and find Winter. I really don’t care anymore, Zach.”

              Zach sighed with defeat. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

              Violet just shook her head. She moved away from him to the other window and kept an eye on him with a look that told him not to approach.

              “I don’t want to argue with you, either, Zach, but those kids have got to go.”

              And when she thought he wasn’t going to leave the room, she left. She strode back down the steps and locked herself away in the drawing room, trying to ignore the cold that nipped at her skin.

              She sat on the leather sofas with a heavy book in her hands. She flipped to a page in the middle of the book; a chapter labelled ‘All My Forgiving’, and stared at the page.

              He had said she was going crazy. She wasn’t. Crazy had been the people locked up in the leisure centre, locked up for so long they had started to forget what was real and what wasn’t. She simply knew laws meant nothing, and deaths now went unaccounted for. If two children were to disappear then she would never be blamed, would she?

              She had always been ruthless. She had had to be. Living on the street and then bringing up a family had toughened her. She had also had to deal with many a man who wanted more than just sex. A few of them had perished under suspicious circumstances. What were two children, really?

              Was she really considering this? This was how people started turning against each other. They started thinking of ways to get rid of each other, and that was exactly what she was doing. It would all be so easy. But then, of course, Zach knew what she wanted to do. If the kids did disappear, then Zach would risk telling people. She couldn’t get rid of Zach. But she would have to. If he risked selling her out, jeopardising her chances of a new life, he would have to go.

              It was that simple.

              She was a free agent. She could go it alone. She didn’t want to love Zach, and what better way to snuff out the flame of love than at the beginning? If she allowed him to love her, then she would only fall deeper in love, and then she would be trapped.

              Oh, what was she thinking? Focus on surviving London. That was all she had to do.

              She dropped the book to the floor and heard it echo with a dull thud. She spread herself across the leather sofa, trying not to shiver. She stared at the ceiling, which was so high up it made her feel uncomfortable. There were odd markings swiped throughout the paint. She followed them with her eyes. They were all leading to the middle of the room, where a chandelier covered in dust was placed.

              This place was oddly tacky. It seemed very outdated and Violet thought whoever had lived here before had clearly designed it thinking it looked good. So much small details had been put into odd things.

              The wallpaper on the walls was that of flowers, red roses to be precise. But they were faded red and the corners had begun to peel. One patch of wall was missing wallpaper. A small, rectangular tapestry going around the whole room displayed birdcages and rabbits. Violet noticed there were burn marks in this, too.

              She remembered the bonfire out in the garden, and thought whoever lived here before loved their fire. If they could see London now they would cry, ‘London’s burning!’ And then they would probably hold a whacky celebration.

              She closed her eyes and saw Winter stood on the car, firing bullets until all the zombies were dead. Thinking about it now, she had done that so they could all escape together. But Violet made plans and she stuck to them. If she wanted to escape without Winter she was going to do it.

              And if she wanted to dispose of the kids, she would do it.

              She opened her eyes. The room was as quiet and as untouched as ever, but she could have sworn a second ago it had been full with the ghosts of past inhabitants. The silence had been disturbed somehow.

              She stood up and went to the bookcase, opened the old antique doors and rifled through the shelves until she came across a notebook. She scanned the room for a pen and found one sat on the windowsill, spiralled and uncomfortable to hold.

              She sat back down on the leather sofa, listening to it squelch and groan underneath her. She started to write on the thick paper in ink that seemed to run and change her writing to that of someone else’s. She began planning different scenarios on how to leave the kids behind. She only wrote two for their deaths, the rest of which she tried to keep as nice as possible.

              What was nice about leaving children behind in a city of the dead? Nothing, of course. But it had to be done.

              Then she wrote something that made her stop.

             
Zach.

             
How was she to throw Zach off the scent of her murders? She didn’t want him to know she had killed the kids. She could tell him she wanted to save them, that she was stupid and wrong and that he was right. She was simply becoming a little crazy but who wasn’t? He’d believe that. She’d say this to him while pleasuring him. He’d be thinking with nothing else but a sexual desire. He’d trust her.

              She was secretly glad she had come up with this plan. She couldn’t kill Zach. That was the last resort. Without even trying to deny it she admitted to herself she was falling in love with him. She couldn’t let that go.

              Suddenly the door handle began to turn, and Violet jumped as if she had been stung. The door was locked, and the person on the other side knocked.

              “Violet, are you in there?”

              She quickly scrunched the papers up and placed the pen back on the windowsill. She hid the papers in the bookcase, behind a set of heavy, leather bound books.

              “Go away,” She called, as she fussed with the clasp on the bookcase door.

              “Violet, let me in, quick!”

              Once it was locked, and the papers were hidden from view, Violet went to the door and unlocked it, using the key that had been left behind. As she pulled the door open Zach looked at her.

              “There’s a government helicopter outside. We need to flag it down.”

              Violet’s heart flipped with hope. It was like a godsend. Maybe it was a sign telling her not to carry out her wicked plans. After all, she was set on escaping her old life, wasn’t she?

              They both bounded up the stairs and back into the white room. The kids stood by the bed, looking pale and anxious.

              Violet ran to one window while Zach hurried to the other. Violet pulled up the window and leant her head out into the street. There, flying above the rooftops, was a government helicopter. Its logo was so clear, illuminated by the rising sun, it made Violet’s emotions soar.

              She waved her arms. “Over here! We need help! Over here!”

              “Hey! Over there! Help us!”

              But their shouts not only alerted the government helicopter. It had alerted a group of the dead, who unfortunately had been running down the street to see the helicopter at the same time. Seconds later more appeared, and they were all running to one place: 15, Mouscallous Street.

Chapter Twenty-One

              Winter was strolling around the memorial garden with Laura when Connor arrived once more, carrying heaps of firewood and enjoying the cheering greetings he received. They could finally start up their breakfast: sausages with brown sauce.

              Winter and Laura headed back to the campfire, joining Connor who smiled at Winter happily. Once at the burning fire, Winter sat down and watched Connor add the wood, before Gerry and Oliver got to work on cooking the sausages.

              Helena pulled out a radio from one of the bags and began dialling the knobs. Through a crackled reception a voice began to speak. Winter was amazed.

              “How have you managed to get reception? I thought everything was gone.”

              “It’s a radio station set up in Paris.” Helena replied, straining to hear what the man was saying. “They’ve managed to broadcast around Europe.”

              Helena stopped fiddling with the radio when she managed to get a loud enough sound. Nobody spoke as the radio presenter poured out information.

              “Paris has welcomed yet another set of survivors on a government boat, this time from Poland. The thirty people have all been moved accordingly and are reportedly settling in well.”

              “Moved?” Winter asked. “What does he mean?”

              “I think there are camps set up.” Gerry shrugged.

              “Shop keepers are urging buyers to only buy what they really need. Right now, supplies are running low, and the government are finding new ways to import what we need.”

              Listening to the radio reporter speak, a man with a slightly French accent, made her want to be in Paris. Even though the topics were serious and slightly heavy, it boosted her morale. There were people alive in Paris, waiting for the last survivors to walk on their country’s soil.

              Then, what he said next, made Winter panic.

              “Lockdown of Paris has begun. Only two weeks remain before it shuts to those who have not been lucky enough to evacuate in time. As more and more countries become zombie territory, government workers are finding it increasingly difficult to get to any remaining survivors.”

              Winter looked around at everyone else. Their expressions were tense. Their hopes of escape seemed to finally be rolling away from them.

              “Survivors are urged to get in touch with government workers, or get to evacuation points immediately. You have until the end of June to evacuate your countries and get in to Paris. Anyone arriving at midnight on the first of July will be sent away.”

              “They can’t do that!” Laura shook her head.

              “Paris has set up safety barriers. Every entrance is guarded. These need to be sealed once and for all. Please, if you are a survivor, get to safety.”

              A jingle played and then a song. Winter thought it in bad taste.

              “It’s just stupid that they’re locking off Paris,” Winter muttered. “There are probably a couple hundred thousand stuck in their countries still. The government should be offering more help!”

              “We’ve been saying this from the beginning,” Gerry said.

              “It’s going to be pretty tight for us if we don’t move in the next couple of days,” Helena said.

              “We won’t get there.” Oliver shrugged. “Just give up now.”

              William glared at Oliver. “Don’t be so pessimistic, mate.”

              Oliver looked at William with the same look he had given Winter. One that clearly judged him and told him so.

              “Well, we have two weeks to get to the river Thames, and we’re just sitting here. The whole country is swarming. You can’t walk five minutes without seeing those wretched bastards. We’re goners, and we’ve been goners for awhile, but none of you will admit it.”

              It all happened so quickly. Gerry had swept from where he was sitting to in front of Oliver, who had stood up to face Gerry. Oliver was taller, but Gerry had more going for him when it came to intimidation.

              “Don’t you fucking dare bring this down, Olly, cos I’m tellin’ you now, we’re getting out of here.”

              The boys stared at each other, their faces inches apart, before Oliver looked away.

              Gerry stood back, rolling his shoulders as he did so, before sitting down a seat or two away from Winter.

              Nobody said anything else about leaving London for Paris. Helena kept the radio on, but Winter noticed she turned it down in the hopes that some words were indistinguishable.

              When their breakfast was done, they ate with the odd remark about how good the food was. They thanked both Gerry and Oliver who had made them, but the confrontation from before was still in the air.

              Once they finished, Gerry left the campsite for a walk and Oliver disappeared inside his tent. Winter had learnt that Oliver had his own tent, refusing to share with Gerry, William or Connor.

              As the sun shone down on the park, Winter wished she was wearing a little less. Helena and Laura were in gypsy skirts, while the boys had shorts on.

              “Winter, aren’t you roasting?” Laura asked, her eyes hidden by Gucci sunglasses. She was looking at Winter in a jumper and tight skinny jeans. She spared a look at her bare feet.

              “Yes, I am.” Winter sighed. She was sitting in the little shade the garden had.

              “Why didn’t you say so? I have clothes in the tent,” Helena said. She was also wearing designer sunglasses, which they must have stolen from the shopping centre they had got everything else from.

              Winter took this as an invitation to go into the tent when she wanted. She stood up, walking slowly away from the girls, and when neither of them objected she sped up.

              Once inside the tent, which was cool and damp, she stripped down to her underwear, making sure the tent entrance was zipped up to prevent anyone looking at her. She turned to Helena’s bag and began to look for clothes, thinking about how they should be going soon.

              She couldn’t help think that Oliver had a point with what he had said. They were all just lounging in the summer sunshine, instead of coming up with ways to escape.

              As she pulled out a promising pair of denim shorts, Winter heard something fall from the pocket. She looked around her before her eyes fell on a locket, lying on Helena’s sleeping bag.

              Checking the door was still zipped shut she picked up the locket and tried opening it. It took some time but when it opened there was a photo of Helena with her parents. Her mother looked young and pretty, while her father was dressed in sports gear. Crumpled up was a note.

              Winter thought this was going too far, but before she could stop herself she was unfolding the paper.

              ‘
Helena, you’ve made us so proud this past year. We know you’re going to do so well once you have finished your university course. We’re sorry we couldn’t afford to send you on your travels, but in the New Year we’ll try out best to help your funding, which you are doing so well. Lots of love, missing you, mum and dad.’

             
Winter sighed. She crumpled the paper back and shut the locket back up, feeling as though she was being rude and intrusive. She placed the locket back in the bag and pulled out a top that was slightly too big for her, but airy, which was what she needed. She pulled on the denim shorts and the top and messed up her hair, leaving the tent and thinking about how worried Helena must be not knowing where her parents were.

              Winter thought she would make sure to tell Helena that she was missing her parents too. They could bond over that.

              As Winter walked back to her chair, she thought about all of the new people she was staying with. All of them had lost someone. They had all been on their own until they found each other, hadn’t they? This was their family now.

              And Winter’s family had been Violet and Zach.

              “Better?” Helena smiled.

              “Yes, much better.” Winter grinned, feeling a light breeze tickle her skin.

              “When are we going shooting then, boys?” Gerry asked, drinking a second can of beer.

              William and Connor grinned at him. William was lying on the grass, absorbing the sun, while Connor was sat at the pool’s edge, glancing at Winter every now and then.

              “Shooting?” Winter asked.

              “They go somewhere in the woods and just shoot at empty beer bottles.” Laura said. “Boys, who understands them?”

              “I go sometimes, too.” Helena grinned, nudging Laura playfully.

              “Winter, do you shoot?”

              Winter laughed to herself as she thought of an innuendo, but decided to answer truthfully.

              “I had to so I could survive half of the stuff I did.”

              Gerry smiled at her.

              “Why don’t you come wiv us?”

              “Yeah, Winter, let’s see your shooting skills!”

              Winter shrugged.

              “Alright, but you’ve got to know I can shoot better than most boys. I’ve been told.”

              They laughed. Winter absorbed it like she absorbed the sun. She liked it when she had told a successful joke.

              “I don’t mean to pester, but tonight can we work out a way to get from here to the Thames?”

              Everyone looked around them, none of them eager to agree to this. Winter waited, looking at each person in turn.

              “Yes, we can plan that tonight,” Gerry said.

              “Okay,” Winter said, feeling as though she had ruined the mood. “Good.”

              They were left with that awkward silence again, and many people went back to sunbathing. Gerry stared intently at his beer can while Connor stood up, running a hand over his sweating body, and made his way to Winter.

              “Come with me. I know a place where we can sit and just admire the park in all of its glory.”

              “Is it in this part of the park?”

              “We won’t even be leaving the walls.” Connor grinned.

              She took his hand, trying to keep her eyes away from his body, and walked with him to one of the gates. He jumped up to the wall above him and pulled himself up. Winter did the same on the other side. They sat on either side of the gate, higher than the rest of the wall, and from here Winter could see the whole park.

              It was beautiful. With the sun shining, it looked like a perfect summer’s walk.

              “Look,” Connor whispered, pointing down to part of the park.

              She turned to see a group of zombies running across the pathway. They were awhile away from them, but it unnerved her to see them. She knew they were safe where they were, guarded by locked gates and tall walls, but the rest of the park was dotted with the dead.

              “Where do you think they’re going? Do you think they’re heading towards the Thames, too?”

              “I don’t think they think like that.” Connor shrugged. “What I have noticed, however, is that they seem to be dying.”

              “How is that possible?”

              “I know they’re rotting anyway. But we’ve all noticed that some look fresher than others.”

              Winter remembered her granddad, how she could see the bones of his ribs. He was already dead, and he had been for a few years. Even though he attacked her, he had been easier to take down than the other zombies she had encountered.

              “I think they’ll soon die out of their own accord,” Connor said.

              “Then why can’t we stay here?” Winter sighed.

              Connor smirked. “I know. Simply ride out the worst of it. We’d soon lose essentials. We’ve already lost electricity and TV and the likes of that. We’re lucky to have what we have. If we hadn’t gone to that shopping centre I think you wouldn’t have been so lucky in finding us.”

              Winter let that sink in. If Gerry and Helena hadn’t saved her in those woods, then she would have been killed by her granddad. He would have finally defeated her. She had almost given up, right there and then.

              “Love birds, you coming or what?” William called.

              Winter turned around to see everyone gathered by the tents, holding different sized guns. Laura was sporting a particularly bulky gun, and Winter wondered how such a small girl could keep hold of it.

              Winter jumped down from the wall and joined the others. She picked up her gun, which she had left in the tent she was sharing with the girls.

              “It’s not really that long of a walk.” Gerry assured her.

              Winter had not trusted him, but they had soon arrived to a clearing in the woods that stood just five minutes away from where they had set up camp. The area looked undisturbed, except for old smashed bottles and burnt out beer cans that had been left behind by their party before.

              Oliver set up the empty bottles and cans against a wall of unstable breezeblocks. He had been polite to Gerry on the way up but Winter could see through it to know all was not forgiven.

              Helena took the first shot firing a bullet and only just missing a bottle of WKD. The boys taunted her jokingly but when William missed a shot Helena made sure everyone laughed. Winter noticed that even Oliver had a strange, twisted smile on his face that looked like it pained him.