Who We Were | Book One

30. Both of Us

The trees blurred as Josh pulled me through the forest. The green shapes were barely recognisable as they swirled like a painting, mesmerising and hypnotic. My legs became numb to the movement beneath me, but they continued running nonetheless. They had no choice other than to obey the hand that hauled me forward. My heart and my lungs pumped, thudding like a drum in my ears. It was only Josh's rifle rattling against his rucksack as he ran that broke through the heavy beat.

He slowed to a walk and looked around; his eyes wild. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he pushed back his hair with blood-stained hands. "

Josh," I panted through heavy gasps as I dropped to a crouch, trying to catch my breath. "I can't..."

His body lowered and his chest heaved as he crouched to my level, adjusting his rifle across his back. "Em, if they find us here, we're both dead." His neck snapped in all directions, every sound making his eyes dart to the source.

"Where are we supposed to go?" I asked. It was the first full sentence I could manage.

"I don't know yet," he said as the sweat dripped down the side of his face. "But we have to keep moving."

Josh was fast when he wanted to be, much faster than I was. Even though he pulled me behind him, I struggled to keep up. The trees stood like guards with their arms waving in the wind, beckoning us further through the forest. When we reached an opening in the tree line, the world didn't seem to get brighter, only darker as the grey clouds loomed.

We stepped out from the cover of the branches to a deserted road which unravelled in front of us. Buildings stood crumbling on either side of the tarmac from the damage that had laced their walls.

"Over there," I pointed to a traditional stone pub which seemed to be the only structure that looked somewhat inviting.

Hanging baskets protruded from the stone where their leaves now stretched to the ground and wound around any object they could find. The sign above the door reading 'Lacerta Inn' was once shiny gold but now it was a dull and rusty bronze which not even hours of cleaning would remove.

Josh's eyes widened as they lay on the pub and an unrecognisable sound escaped his throat. "No," he refused, shaking his head and darting frantic pupils in every direction. "We shouldn't be here."

"We don't have any other choice," I replied, grabbing at his arm and yanking his body into the building. "Come on."

It was a traditional, old fashioned countryside pub. The ones I'd always loved. The ones that always served the best Sunday roasts and chocolate fudge cake. The ones I would never get to visit in the same way again.

I could picture what it would've been like before. Multi-coloured bottles would have gleaned from behind the bar, shimmering their poisonous liquids before being poured and mixed into squeaky clean glassware. Families and couples would fill the wooden tables that spread the room, and in the summer the beer garden would echo with the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter.

The picture in front of me spoke an entirely different story.

The dark wooden floor was partially covered with a deep red patterned carpet which was scuffed and stained in various places. The bottles didn't glean from the bar. They lay broken and cracked on top of the tables which shone with spilt liquid. Paintings and photographs hung from their hooks, crooked and scratched like a jigsaw that could never be put back together.

"Cheery," Josh announced, closing the door behind us, shutting out most of the light from the room. The only sunlight came from the few windows that were evenly spaced across the front wall. "Actually..." he mumbled, locking eyes with the bar at the back of the room, "it just got better."