I was wrapped in a duvet so thick that I felt cocooned in it, the warmth hugging me tight, an embrace I wished could last forever, but which I knew would end soon when I had to wake up and start the day. Breakfast. Work. Grocery shopping. It all nagged at me, a constant tug on the back of my eyelids, making me groan, then sigh, as I stretched out my muscles and forced myself to open my eyes.
No. This wasn't right.
I frowned, disorientated, still caught in the fuzzy embers of slumber. A dull pulsation throbbed at the edge of my forehead and I raised my hand to it, touching my fingertips to the tender spot and wincing. A stab of pain came then, sharp, jagged, bringing my world back into focus.
Bringing everything back into focus.
I gasped, kicking off the sleeping bag that I was wrapped in and scrambled backwards, eyes wide and alert.
By my side, a bottle of water and a blister pack containing two painkillers.
In front of me, nothing.
An empty space where the Grey should have been.
An empty room.
Staggering to my feet, I ran to the door, getting my foot caught on the sleeping bag and just about managing to stay on my feet as I grabbed for the handle. I had images of the door being locked, of finding myself shut in here, while the Grey carried out the dark plan he'd been harbouring all along to lead his kind down here into the tunnels.
The handle turned, the door was flung wide and I pelted down the corridor using my hands to feel the way along the darkened passage walls, my feet pounding the floor as I ran, my heart beating wildly in my tightening chest.
I had no idea how long I'd been asleep. How much time had he had to strike? How much time had I gifted him to destroy everything I had left in the New World?
I cursed him as I ran, but most of all I cursed myself. How had I let myself fall asleep? How could I have let my guard down so easily?
It had been his face. Tom's face. I'd watched him as he'd taken the cushion I'd thrown and wedged it under his head as he lay down on the hard floor. He'd looked up at the ceiling, his gaze fixed on a point directly above him where the plaster was cracked, small fissures splintering out like a spider's web. He'd swallowed, his throat moving as he did so, and it was Tom's throat. The one I'd kissed a hundred times and more. Tom's profile in the candlelight. Tom's body, one knee brought up, his foot resting on the floor. One arm – Tom's arm – raised, his hand underneath the cushion, the firm curve of his bicep through his shirt. His other hand resting on his chest, the same chest I had rested my head on countless times, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Tom, in the same room as me.
Tom, risen from the dead.
Tom, breathing, his chest rising, falling, rising, falling.
Somehow, I'd let him get into my head. Somehow, subconsciously, I'd let the fact he looked like Tom trick me into relaxing, into falling asleep, into dropping my defences, and he'd snuck away while I'd been sleeping, free to do whatever it was he'd had planned from the start.
And here I was, unarmed, my gun and blade in Vik's weapons store, about to run headlong into God knows what.
Ahead, the door to the main area was closed, the small frosted glass window revealing nothing. Slowing my pace, I approached. I could hear voices, low and muffled on the other side of the heavy fire door. I waited, my skin prickling with weighty anticipation as I listened out for any obvious sounds of distress or pain, or even that horrible, gut-churning throat-clicking of the Greys.
Up close, I couldn't see much through the glass, just blurred dark shapes, some static, some moving around. Breathing hard, I reached for the handle only to cry out and jump back as shadows converged upon the window and the door was opened suddenly from the other side.
'Evie,' Vik beamed, his face lit up from the wind-up LED lantern he was holding. His smile faltered as he saw my face. 'Oh, hey, you know, you don't look so good. You okay?'
Taj's brother touched a hand to my arm, and I felt my gaze shift in the direction of his hand, slow, confused, as if someone had reached out and just dragged me right back into my dream.
'Evie?' he said again, his voice sounding muffled like there was still a door between us.
Focus, Evie. Focus.
I blinked and forced my eyes wide, taking a deep inhale of stuffy air.
'Vik...' I said, shaking my head as if to clear the fog. 'Sorry, I just woke up. Feel like I've been hit by a train.' I rocked back on my feet, and Vik stepped into the corridor fully, letting the door shut behind him as he grabbed my arms to steady me,
'You really don't look well at all,' he said, 'shall I get Tom?'
'No!'
It came out sharper than I'd intended, panic forcing the word out of my mouth before I could stop it. Vik's eyes widened a little, confusion clouding his expression.
I smiled to reassure him. 'No, no, sorry, I just don't want to worry him. This whole thing has been pretty overwhelming for him... for both of us. The last thing he needs is to start worrying about me.' I placed a hand over one of Vik's and squeezed. 'Honestly, Vik, I'll be okay. Had one of those super deep sleeps like I haven't had in forever. You know, one of the ones where you wake up and don't know where the Hell you are. It just freaked me out a bit being in that room and wondering where everyone was.'
We tended to sleep near each other these days, an odd but perhaps inevitable development – people who had once been complete strangers, now needing the familiarity of closeness, perhaps needing to wake up and see that humanity was still alive and that we weren't all alone in this world.
I wasn't a good sleeper, I doubt any of us were anymore, but I often seemed to lay awake more than anyone. Insomnia never felt so bad when I knew I had Jace on my left flank, Abby on my right.
Vik nodded as if he understood completely.
'Sure, sure, I get it. But still... that head of yours doesn't look so good. Why don't you go take the weight off and I'll grab you something from the store. Got a few tins of peaches from the Lancaster House raid. You look like you could do with the sugar.' He waggled his eyebrows conspiratorially as if he were talking about some Class B drugs, and not tinned fruit.
I forced a smile. 'That sounds really good, Vik.'
But it didn't sound good. In fact, the thought of trying to eat anything right then made the nausea rush into my throat. I didn't need food. I just needed to find the Grey. Desperation itched under my skin.
'Okay,' Vik said, the smile returning. If there was one thing that made Vik happy, it was providing for the group. Taj might have been the brains, but Vik was the care-giver, the tie that bound us together. Whether it was lifting the mood with his stories or making sure people ate something, he was one of the good ones in a world that had sharpened edges and moulded many humans into something unrecognisable. 'Be right back,' he said.
'Hey,' I called out as he headed for the store. 'Is Tom in there?'
'Yeah, yeah,' he replied, waving me in the direction of the communal area. 'He's in there talking to Taj and Lena.'
I stiffened, watching as Vik's light bounced off the walls of the passageway until I heard the door of the store click open, and the light and Vik were swallowed whole and I was left with nothing but the dulled glow emanating through the frosted glass.
Grabbing the handle, I grunted at the weight of the door as I pushed it open, my eyes instantly seeking out the Grey. I found him straight away, tucked away in a far corner with Lena by his side. If Taj had been speaking with them, he wasn't there now and I froze just beyond the doorway, disturbed by the sight of them together again.
As if sensing my gaze on him, Tom looked up suddenly, his head turning in my direction, Lena's following just after.
I felt it then – this sense of otherness, staring across at them as if they were in alien form and I was the only one who could see it. I could see it. I could feel it. Why couldn't anyone else?
'Holy shit,' a familiar voice said. 'You look more grey than a Grey.'
Jace was staring at me like I was an actual Grey, his concerned gaze coming to rest on my head. I hadn't even looked in a mirror yet, but I had a feeling my head was an alarming shade from the way both Vik and Jace had stared at it like I was an alien entity.
Lena was leaning in towards Tom, whispering something. They both looked back at me again and Tom broke out into a wide smile and waved his hand in greeting. It took me a couple of seconds to realise I wasn't responding. I raised my hand in a half-hearted gesture and shot him a shaky smile.
'...should be resting, not walking around like an extra from The Walking Dead.'
Jace was still talking and I reluctantly dragged my gaze away from Tom and Lena, trying to focus on my friend, who was now looking at me expectantly, his thick eyebrows raised.
'I-I'm fine,' I said. But I wasn't. Dread was creeping up my spine, along my collarbone. 'I didn't have to put up with your snoring. Trust me, best sleep in ages.'
I smiled weakly, just as Vik came blustering back through the door, seeing me there and thrusting a small ring-pull can of peaches into my hand.
'There you go, Evie,' he said. 'Breakfast is served.'
Jace stared at the can in my hands and then at Vik. 'Wait, how comes she gets peaches?'
'She gets peaches so that she doesn't start thinking about opening up your stomach and chewing on your entrails,' I said pointedly, as I walked over to the wall and eased myself down to the floor, crossing my legs underneath me. 'Although I think the Walkers would give you and your entrails a massive swerve, to be honest.'
Vik snorted with laughter.
'Hey, I'll have you know I'm a Michelin-star meal,' Jace said, puffing up his chest. 'Any Walker would be lucky to take a bite out of me.'
'Mate,' Vik said, slapping him on the shoulder. 'You're more of a McDonald's Happy Meal.' His face fell. 'Shit, I wish I hadn't mentioned McDonald's. I'd kill everyone in here for a large portion of fries.'
He shook his head regretfully and walked away, leaving Jace and I to stare after him.
'If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times,' Jace said. 'We need to watch that guy. It's always the nice ones that turn out to be homicidal maniacs.' He looked down at me. 'You going to eat those or just hold them in your hand, because if you're not going to eat them, I will. I don't give a shit if you've got a bit of a bump on the head.'
'Well, that's charming,' I said, dryly, looking at the tin and feeling my stomach knot up, nausea burying deep. 'Here, take them. Just don't let Vik see you.'
'I wouldn't dream of it,' Jace replied, shaking his head as he sat down next to me, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. 'Eat up, Frankenstein.'
'Frankenstein?'
Jace tapped at his forehead. 'On account of your extra-large forehead.'
'Shit, is it really that bad?' I raised a hand to my head, holding my palm over the injury.
'Fucking massive, mate.'
I smiled then, my first genuine smile of the day and it felt good and yet alien, like I'd somehow forgotten how to do it. 'Arsehole. Anyway, Frankenstein was the one who created the monster, so you're factually incorrect like you are about most things.'
'Really?' Jace looked puzzled. 'So, what was the monster called? Evelyn?'
I glanced sharply at him as he mimicked Lena's accent, whacking him on the arm with the can.
'I'll wrap this around your head in a minute, if you're not careful.'
'Do you worst,' he said, shrugging. 'Still won't have a head as impossibly big as yours though. Now open those fucking peaches, you spoilt brat.'
He gave them a sidelong glance as I did as he said. The sweet smell of syrup rose hit my senses hard and I swallowed at the sickly scent.
'You know, when I fell off that building over on Convent Garden, didn't see anyone treating me to tins of peaches and making up a special room for me to sleep in.'
I stared at him flatly. 'Jace, you fell out of a window in a bar and that was only because you were running from a Grey and didn't want to put down that bottle of champagne you'd found.'
He grinned. 'Yeah, but at least I still managed to save the champagne. That was heroic, you can't say it wasn't?'
I laughed and offered him a peach. 'Sure, here you go, hero.'
He snagged one with his finger and put it in his mouth, trying not to waste one drop of syrup. Taking his time to chew it, he leant his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
'God, I always fucking hated peaches. Mum used to serve them up every Sunday after doing the roast dinner. Tinned peaches and vanilla ice cream. Every bloody week without fail. I'd dream about a Sunday where she'd mix it up a bit and serve pears instead. Even fruit cocktail would have been better, and I hated the grapes in tinned fruit cocktail. Anything but sodding peaches. Why is it they now taste so bloody amazing?'
I smiled, feeling a touch of warmth for him then. Jace didn't often talk about his life before the invasion, only offering the small titbits he was willing to offer, and I got that. Talking about the life you could no longer have served zero purpose. We had to focus on the now, not get lost in the past that did nothing but drag us down into the ruins with the rest of London's dead.
'Hey, newly-wed.' Abby threw herself down in front of us, the grin on her face wider than the bomb craters in Trafalgar Square. 'Soooo... how was the honeymoon suite?'
I inhaled deep, the coldness creeping in again, all warmth leaving me at the thought of being in that room with him,knowing that I'd fallen asleep. Had he watched me while I'd slept? Had he crept close, his face – Tom's face – near to mine?
'It was... fine,' I said. 'Absolutely fine.'
'Fine?' Abby's eyes widened. 'Just fine?'
'In other words, none of your bloody business,' Jace said, jabbing a finger at her before grabbing another peach from the tin.
'Jesus, alright, alright, just here trying to live vicariously through Evie's night of passion. Give a girl a break, will you? Oooh, peaches,' she crooned, reaching out to grab one for herself and making the exact same face Jace did when he'd eaten the first one.
Relenting finally, spurred on by their obvious enjoyment of the tinned fruit, I snagged one for myself, smiling at the familiarity of the taste on my tongue, suddenly not so turned off by the sweet smell at all. They were good. I grabbed another quickly, only to feel it stick down my throat when I glanced over Abby's shoulder and saw Tom leave Lena's side and head towards us. I gagged and began to choke, spilling juice from the can down my jeans. I put it down quickly on the floor, as Jace slapped my back to help dislodge the piece of fruit.
'You okay?' he said.
I continued to cough, my eyes now starting to stream.
'Here, drink this, quick.'
I blinked through the tears to see Tom leaning down, offering me a small bottle of water. Doing my best not to glare at him and his pathetic hero act, I took the bottle and raised it to my lips, taking a swig. A few more and the peach was gone.
'Thanks,' I finally managed, shooting him a smile. This time, his smile was the one that looked forced, robotic almost and I realised he wasn't looking directly at my face, but at how Jace's hand was still on my shoulder, his thumb resting on my collarbone. It was nothing. Of course, it was nothing. This was Jace, after all, but Tom's stare lingered on his hand regardless, storm clouds in his eyes that I didn't understand.
I remembered his question to me when I'd regained consciousness after the fall.
Who is he to you?
The Grey was worried. Worried that my friendship with Jace would throw a spanner into the works. Here he was, pretending to be the long-lost husband, and he hadn't factored in that I might have friendships and strong connections that he'd have to get through to get to me.
It didn't take long for Jace to twig something was up. When an awkward silence descended, with neither Tom or me saying anything more, Jace looked up to see Tom still staring at his hand and he quickly removed it, clearing his throat and shifting not so subtly to inch a little away from me.
God, this was unbearable. Even Abby look uncomfortable now, and Abby was rarely uncomfortable in any situation. Life had shaped her that way. When you'd just about seen and done everything, what was there left to be embarrassed about?
I let my cheek muscles relax, throwing myself into the smile with more warmth, doing my best to look as grateful as I could to the husband who had just come to my rescue.
'Bloody peaches,' I said. 'Serves me right for scoffing them so quickly.'
Tom turned his full attention back to me, his eyes softening. Dropping to his knees in front of me, and next to Abby, he cocked his head to one side, eyeing my injury in the same way the others had. 'Did you take those tablets I left for you? I went to see Ivy as soon as I woke up, she said you'd need them.'
Right. The water and the tablets I'd spotted by my side as soon as I'd woken up. That had been his handiwork, or at least, Tom's. It was such a Tom thing to do. I doubted very much whether the Grey cared whether it felt as if someone was punching me in the skull, which, in fact, it did, despite me pretending otherwise.
'Er... no, not yet,' I said. 'It's really not that bad,' I added, when I saw him frown.
'Must have got a really good night's sleep, eh?' Abby said, with a wink.
Jace tutted and shook his head. 'What did I tell you? It's getting weird now. Leave them alone. Which is what we should both do right now,' he said, moving to climb to his feet.
I looked up at him, wide-eyed. 'No, honestly, it's fine, you don't have to go.'
Jace's face was unreadable, but I could sense the air moving around us, a strange agitation that simultaneously made me want them to go and yet stay. I didn't want to be alone with Tom.
'Nah, it's alright. Taj wants to see us all in ten anyway. We need to talk about plans to head over to St. Paul's tomorrow.'
'We're going to see Levi tomorrow?'
My mouth dropped open.
Levi was the leader over in Quadrant Two and we hadn't seen him or his crew in months. They hadn't been as openly hostile as Lena's crew had, but they'd made it clear we weren't welcome in their Quadrant.
Levi himself, a mammoth of a man who'd looked like he could have single-handedly demolished St. Paul's Cathedral better than any bomb, had been explicit in his instruction that we didn't attempt to loot anything in his sector or he'd make sure we never reached the border into the next quadrant. Quadrant Two was his kingdom now, and he ruled it with hands big enough to crush your skull into dust and a quiet menace that was worse than any verbal or physical threat from Lena. Rumour had it that he'd been instrumental during the London riots and, following the Final Wave, he'd killed more Greys than the rest of his crew put together.
Make no mistake, going back to St. Paul's was a big move. Attempting a truce with Levi, was close to insane. Fuck that, it was insane.
'So, it appears,' Jace said, with a wry grin. 'See you in ten, yeah?'
Climbing to her feet almost reluctantly, Abby rolled her eyes and followed Jace to the other side of the communal area, where they stood talking to Gav and Iza. I stared forlornly at them all, dread creeping in again, this time with claws that stung too much when I thought about what I'd set in motion when I'd agreed to go along with the Grey's plot.
Tom moved to sit beside me and before I could get up, sickened at the idea of being anywhere near him and wanting to go see Taj and tell him to abandon this madness, the Grey grabbed my hand, placing his over mine and holding it there on the floor between us.
'Don't,' he said, in a hushed warning tone. 'Whatever you're thinking of doing; don't.'
I swallowed hard, trying to stem the panic that was rising in a bilious tide in my chest and throat.
'Remember where you are. Remember who might be watching. Act normal.'
I turned to look at him. His hand was hot on mine. Too hot.
'Normal? You wouldn't know normal if it slapped you in the face. Do you have any idea what it means for us to go back and see Levi? Do you even know what he'll do to us if we enter his Quadrant again? We're dead, Tom. We're dead.'
'No,' he said. 'We're not. We will have a legitimate reason for being there and once we've spoken to him and told him our plans, he'll agree to join with us. Once we have him, the other survivor groups will fall in line.'
'You honestly think it's going to be that easy?' I said. 'They'll crush us. We'll be lucky to make it back here alive.'
Tom smiled, his blue eyes glinting. 'You should have more faith in humanity, Evie. All is not lost, the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and the courage never to submit or yield. He liked that one, right? Paradise Lost. He kept a copy of the book in his bag all the time. He spilt coffee on the front cover and was upset about it for days.'
I stared at him, crestfallen. Tears sprang hotly to my eyes and I looked down into my lap quickly, biting my lip to stop the tears from falling.
'I... I'm sorry.' His voice was small, tight. Suddenly full of regret. I hated him. I hated this.
'Shut up,' I hissed, without looking up. I couldn't. I couldn't look at his face, but instead found myself staring at his hand covering mine, remembering when I used to trace my lips over those knuckles. How I had enjoyed pressing my open mouth to his palm, his wrist, his forearm. I wondered if his skin tasted the same, or whether it would taste sour now, rancid and rotten just like the creature he really was underneath the mask. My heart hardened at the thought of it.
'I can't do this,' I said. 'I don't care what happens to me, I can't let you endanger them like this. It's suicide. You're going to get them all killed.'
He stiffened, tightening his grip on my hand. 'You can do this, and you will. You forget, he knows you too well, which means I know you. You might pretend you don't care if they cast you out, but you do. They're your family now and you always so desperately wanted a family, didn't you, Evie? To make up for what you never really had.'
'You utter bastard.'
I'd never felt such hatred before. Never felt such coldness for someone so deep inside. To hear these words coming from Tom's mouth, with Tom's voice. It killed me. Tom would never have used my shitty childhood against me and to hear him say it now, had me reeling. His hand over mine felt like a poison seeping into my skin and I wanted to retch.
'You will do this, Evie. Whether you like it or not, you will.' He brushed his fingertips into the grooves between my knuckles. 'You'll do it to protect them, of course you will, but more than that...'
He lifted my hand to his face, looking directly at me as he pressed his lips to my skin.
'You'll do it to protect yourself. You need this. You need them. I could see that clear as day as soon as you walked back in here yesterday. I see it in the way you look at them. The way you talk to them. The way you relax around them.'
'You have no idea what you're talking about.'
He chuckled, but there was no warmth to it. 'Oh, but I do, dear wife. I know you. I know you.'
The Grey touched his mouth to my hand again. Longer this time. Unbearable.
'Now,' he said, with a wide smile that looked so innocent then, so devoid of the monster I knew him to be. So Tom.
'Let's go and have that chat with Taj, yeah?'