Winter Smith (Book 1): London's Burning (48 page)

              She suddenly realised that all over the world life had been going on. She thought that she could even be standing where the infection first began. She wouldn’t know. She wondered when people realised something was wrong. Had a car spiralled out of control only for the dead to run out and kill the people in the nearest car? Had someone signalled them to stop?

              She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched.

              “Sorry,” Connor said quickly, withdrawing his hand.

              “It’s alright. I was just thinking how sad this is.”

              She looked at everyone else. Laura was crying once more, while Gerry was shaking his head. The impact of one simple road, full of abandoned cars and the odd body was shocking, and none of them could really understand why.

              “So, what now?” Oliver clapped his hands. He didn’t seem to be remotely bothered about being here. He even seemed jolly.

              “We need cover. We’re pretty open here.” William spoke. He started to inspect the nearest car; a small, Ford Fiesta, blue but stained with blood. The passenger window had been smashed, and Winter noticed some clothes had been ripped and left behind on the glass. She didn’t even want to think what had happened.

              “Where are we going to stay that’s closed?” Oliver said. His tone was judging, a smirk on his face that told everyone he thought he was in low company.

              “We’re not, are we?” Gerry snapped. He turned to the others. “No, we’ll find a few cars near each other, make sure there’s nothing around that could harm us, and stay in the cars. I think we’ll be pretty safe here, but we can’t stay in one place long. We keep on the move.”

              “Whatever.” Oliver muttered.

              “I think that’s a good idea,” Laura said, loud enough for Oliver to hear.

              They walked, following signs that were signposted towards London. Winter eyed the signs until they were out of view, feeling hopeful that they were closer than ever.

              “This will do,” Gerry said after awhile.

              They had come to a group of cars, many of them with flat tyres. There was a KA, untouched except for one smashed back window. There was a people carrier, dented in the driver’s door but otherwise unscathed, and a Jeep with one wheel missing and the bonnet broken off, lying a few feet away. They were all relatively close together, with enough space for them to get out and set up a temporary fire.

              “We should find a lorry,” Oliver said.

              “We’re staying here,” Winter replied.

              But as she turned towards the people carrier, Winter thought that Oliver had a point. A lorry was high up, it was safe, and they could all stay in one place. That would have been ideal. Winter made note of this in her journal. Laura saw and winked.

              William climbed into the people carrier with Winter, taking the seats behind her and making up his bed already. He took off his bag with a humph.

              “That boy is annoying me,” he said to Winter, looking through the window at Oliver who was climbing into the Jeep with Gerry.

              “I wouldn’t like to be Gerry right now.”

              “Guys! Guys, I got one.”

              Winter turned in her seat to see that Connor was stood on the side of the road that went away from London. He was peering into a car parked by the barrier, his gun raised.

              Laura walked around the people carrier.

              “Oh my god, look at it.”

              Winter jumped out of the people carrier and climbed over the barrier, joining Connor. She admired the Smart car in front of her, equipped with only two seats. She thought they were ridiculous.

              Strapped into the driver’s seat was a woman, dressed in a flowery dress, wearing no shoes. The stench was unbelievable. Death had been contained in something so small for so long it had begun to rot. Her skin was beyond decaying, the point where if it were to be touched it would wither. The raised blood vessels were no longer purple but black. Her teeth had fallen out, lying on her bosom and in her lap. Her skin was nothing but paper thin, with bones jutting out at odd angles.

              “That’s disgusting,” William remarked.

              Winter turned to see that everyone had gathered to observe what Connor had found.

              “Kill it,” Oliver said indifferently.

              The woman moaned at them, watching Gerry edge around to her side of the car.

              A slight breeze went flowing past, and Winter shivered against it. She looked up to see rolling dark clouds. It would be raining soon. She looked back at the woman, wondering how she ended up like this.

              The woman began to scream, so loudly it made everyone jump. She hissed at Gerry, straining against the seatbelt constraining her, eyeing the gun he was pointing at her. How did she know she was facing death?

              Winter stood back from the car, scared that the blood would splatter from the shot or that she would be in the path of oncoming glass. Connor wrapped his arm around her shoulders as Gerry pulled the trigger and the woman moved no more.

              “Are there any more like that?” Laura asked.

              “It’s possible,” Gerry said, observing the road before them. Lines upon lines of ruined abandoned cars, any of which could still be occupied.

              “That gun shot made a lot of noise, Gerry…” William said. “You could have attracted them.”

              Winter almost expected every car door to open and the dead to drag themselves out, but there was nothing. They were safe for now.

              As the first day on the M1 wore on, Winter felt mounting excitement. As she watched Gerry and Oliver politely set up a portable BBQ, she thought of how close they were to London. She laughed along with everyone else, and she stayed by the side of Connor, but all the while her mind was somewhere else, thinking of survival and safety.

              “What would you do if you went to Paris, Winter, and found that you were idolised once more?” Connor asked, keeping his voice low so others wouldn’t hear them.

              Winter didn’t answer straight away. She hadn’t considered the thought. The idea of celebrities being as popular as they once were seemed alien now.

              “I wouldn’t even try to keep it going. I’d do anything I could to avoid it.”

              “Seriously?”

              What was that in Connor’s tone? Alarm? Winter didn’t know.

              “Seriously. The only good thing that has come from this is that I get to avoid it all again. The press, the stories, the stares from various people who think they know me.”

              “So you would never go back?”

              “I’d never go back. I want a fresh start now. I want to go to Paris and just be a regular survivor. Not someone who is watched constantly for mistakes.”

              Connor just nodded. He seemed lost in thought, probably about life in Paris.

              “Why did you do that thing for me? With David Herald? Why did you appeal to find me and insult the government?”

              “They were words twisted. He’s been doing it for years. The only truth was me asking to find you, and that was Violet’s idea.”

              “I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

              “I’ve found you now.” Winter pointed out. “Besides, nobody was interested. Nobody will be interested in such things for awhile now.”

              “I suppose you’re right.”

              Dinner was served just as the sun began to set. They had plans to carry on down the M1 early the next morning. They were all agreed on not staying in one place for too long, for fear of missing the last ship leaving the Thames.

              Oliver retreated to the car he had set up camp in earlier, conveniently missing discussions on who would be first to stay on watch that night. They decided it would be Laura.

              Winter tried insisting she stay with her, afraid that she was too young to be out alone, but Laura seemed to find this slightly insulting. She insisted she would be fine, she would not be far from the car, and she could look after herself. If anything were to happen she would alert the others.

              William climbed into the seat behind Winter, shutting the car door behind him and stripping down to his underwear. He quickly covered up, glancing at Winter every now and then.

              “It’s fine. I’ve seen worse,” Winter said, sorting out her sleeping quarters for that night.

              She decided they had the best car. It was roomy and comfortable, and Winter felt safe. Although she didn’t think she would be sleeping much.

              Strong winds blew past the car and for a second Winter’s heartbeat raced. She looked outside to see light rain falling.

              “Just what we need.” William sighed. “I’m not looking forward to our wake up call tomorrow.”

              “I don’t like Laura being out there alone.”

              Winter looked out through the front window. Laura leaned on the bonnet of a burnt out BMW, a gun in her hand. She was staring down the road looking relatively at ease.

              “Just keep an eye on her. She’s near Gerry, it’s fine. He’ll make sure she’s safe.”

              “What if he falls asleep?”

              William laughed.

              “You really think Gerry is going to sleep in that car with Oliver? I can’t imagine how awkward that place must be right now.”

              Winter knew what he meant. The pair were not fond of each other. She turned her head to look in at the KA next to them. Connor caught her eye and waved before settling down to sleep. The rain was pouring faster now, increasing in density. Soon they wouldn’t be able to see outside.

              “Why doesn’t she wait in the car?” Winter sighed, looking at Laura turn away from the oncoming rain.

              “She’s a tough girl, you know. She’s got the mental ability of an adult survivor, not a sixteen year old girl.”

              “She’s too young.”

              “She is only a year younger than you.”

              Winter remembered that, but she was sure she didn’t look quite as young and vulnerable as Laura did.

              “She would have only just left school, wouldn’t she?”

              William raised his eyebrows. “I guess you’re right, yeah.”

              “I wonder what she wanted to do.”

              William shrugged. “What did you do?”

              “I was still stuck in private school.” She didn’t want to know whether or not William understood. She was sure he would have heard of her before. “Although my parents were gearing me up for a career in being famous.”

              “Didn’t you like it?”

              “Connor asked me this earlier,” Winter said, taking her eyes off Laura and looking at William. “He asked me what I would do if they saw me as the same Winter Smith in Paris that they did here. I told him I hope that never happens again. It’s a fresh start.”

              “Certainly hope so. Scary though, when you think about it.”

              “What do you mean?”

              William laid a finger on the already misting car window and began to write his name. Winter watched him, how neat he made it, neatening any rough edges.

              “It really is a brand new start. We need to find new homes, new jobs, new education, whatever. We have to completely start again.”

              Winter hadn’t thought of that. She suddenly realised how naive she had been. It was all well and good to get to Paris and begin her fresh start, but just how would she do that? Did she expect to get there and start her private school tuition again?

              “A lot of people here aren’t that happy.” William sighed. He rubbed out his name and waited for the falling rain to mist the window again. “We’re all old enough to realise just how hard this is going to be.”

              He looked across at Winter. She bit her lip, lost in thought.

              “Not that I mean you’re too young to not do anything. I’m sure you’re capable of starting something up when you get there.”

              “If I get there.”

              “We’ll get there,” William said. “I’m sure of it.”

              Winter lay down, listening to the tinny sound of the rain bouncing off the car roof. She looked around the car, spotting empty crisp packets stashed away in the side door compartments. She thought how weird it was that this car belonged to someone else, who may or may not now be alive.

              “I don’t think Paris will be the safest place soon.”

              Winter didn’t answer straight away. She didn’t want to think of anything that could happen. She only cared about escaping the dead.

              She heard William settle down as she thought about The Dead Years. It was a name that would stick, although she hoped the plural wording would be proven incorrect.