"Three is enough," Jay said. "If theyre nearby theyll have heard."

They all stood or sat, eyes scanning the sh.o.r.e, waiting. She kept her own eyes on the undead as ten of them staggered out towards the lifeboat. A large wave crashed against the sh.o.r.e, knocking three over. The others staggered on. Another wave, and another two were swept from their feet. Once down, they had difficulty standing up. It was a pitiful sight. She was about to suggest they leave when Hana spoke.

"Thats long enough," she said. "As Nilda said, theres no point waiting here. Well go back."

They arrived at the Tower long after nightfall. Theyd travelled slowly, scanning the sh.o.r.e for anywhere they might find food, and gone ash.o.r.e twice more. They found a row of straggly beans growing up the side of a barn on the first trip, and the second excursion was cut short when the rain started falling again.

"Its not much," Nilda said, looking at their haul. "Barely a days worth of food."

"I dont know what we should do," Hana said. "I was hoping Chester would have found more. I... No, I really dont know."

"Well have to take the boat out again," Nilda said. "We might get lucky. If we dont then well all have to go out on foot, each in a different direction, and hope we find something."

Tuck wasnt ready to pin her future on hopes as thin as that. One trip, one day, but unless they were visited by a miracle, someone else would have to be sent to Anglesey. Perhaps they should all go. The uncertain risks of the undead were preferable to the certain finality of starvation.

Part 3: A Crowded House 18th September "You understand why Im not coming with you?" Nilda asked. They were in the lifeboats small c.o.c.kpit. Jay and Greta were sitting on the deck watching for obstructions. Finnegan and Reece were inside checking and rechecking their gear.

"You mean other than your leg?" Chester asked. "Because that limp of yours does have a tendency to come and go. No, look, I get it. You found your son. That was what this was all about."

"Yes. Yes, I suppose, its just-"

"Like I said before," Chester interrupted, "the idea that we have a connection forged in the heat of battle is nothing but a romantic desire for there to be a meaning to all of this. We wake up. We struggle. We go to sleep all in the hope we get to repeat it all over again. Thats life. Always has been. The orchestra changes, but the song stays the same."

"Jays right," Nilda said. "You are a cynic. Do you have a plan?"

"For when we go ash.o.r.e? Broadly speaking, yes."

"Well, maybe you should tell them," she suggested, nodding towards Finnegan and Reece. The two men were both on the repacking side of their obsessive packing-emptying curve.

"Okay, you two," Chester called. "Time to get some Vitamin D."

"Sit down before a wave hits us and you get end up over the side," Chester said, clambering up after them. The hard protective sh.e.l.l of the boat wasnt designed to be sat on, so much as clung to by any survivors of a wreck unable to find a s.p.a.ce inside. "Were going to keep it simple," he said when he found a perch that was secure, if not comfortable. "Whats the reading on the Geiger counter?"

"It hasnt really changed since we left," Greta said.

"Good. As long as it stays that way well go ash.o.r.e in Kent, find one of these farms, work out how much food is there, and come up with a rough plan of how well get it out. So when your boots. .h.i.t the ground ask yourself whether the surrounding roads and fields are free of the undead. Are there any gates, and can they be secured? Are there any handcarts, or perhaps a tractor, nearby? There probably wont be, but it cant hurt to look. Its all pretty straightforward. Hanas list has some farms that are a bit too far inland, and theres one thats too near to Whitstable for my liking. We want to avoid small towns. In fact, we want to avoid the undead entirely, so from now on, eyes on the coast. If we see anything that looks like a planted field, well go ash.o.r.e to investigate."

"And how exactly are we meant to harvest wheat or maize?" Reece asked.

"We arent. We can manage picking fruit from a tree or pulling crops from the ground. Anything else is beyond us. Were looking for an easy haul, and Id define that as what twenty of us can pull out of the ground while another twenty are keeping the undead at bay."

"Youre planning to bring forty people down here?" Reece asked.

"We want to get this done in one trip, maybe two. We dont really have the fuel for more, and even if we did, in a week itll be gone, and we wont be picking anything from this part of the world until next year. This is our one chance at something approaching self-sufficiency. Without it, well be reliant on Anglesey."

"Or we return there with the boat they send," Finnegan said.

"a.s.suming you dont starve before that boat arrives. If they can send a boat. Were approaching storm season, so it might not be until spring they feel they can risk it. And if and when a boat does arrive, they may not have s.p.a.ce for everyone to go back with them. An able-bodied man like yourself would no doubt be amongst those whod volunteer to stay behind." And he said that with a wide malicious grin that he was irritated to see sailed over the other mans head. "We do need the food," Chester finished. "But were going to collect it from places that are safe."

"And how will we know whether its safe?" Reece asked.

"Well," Chester said, thoughtfully, "I suppose if we cant smell the foetid breath of the undead billowing about our heads then-"

"Chester!" Nilda called, warningly.

He sighed. "Alright, look, you dont know me." He looked from face to face. It just reminded him that of the people he had known when he left London, only Hana and McInery were left. "You dont know me," he said again, this time with regret, "but for the last five months Ive been trekking the countryside rescuing people. Ive killed more than my fair share of the undead. The trick is to keep moving. If you get into difficulty, dont let fighting be your first instinct. Just run. Now, you all know where the Tower of London is, right? Right?" There was a trio of indecisive nods. "Well, what about reading a map, do you know how to do that? Okay. Well, the Tower is on the north bank of the Thames, and London is west of Kent. So, if you get lost, if we get separated, if you have to run until you havent a clue where you are, head north until you reach water. Take a left. Head towards the setting sun until you get to the QE2 Bridge. Thats still standing, and you can cross the river there."

"And if we do have to fight?" Greta asked.

"Go for the knees," Chester said. "Knock 'em down. Then try and run in the knowledge they cant even walk after you. If you cant run, remember two things. First, that if youve broken its legs, a zombies mouth still works. Second, that the rest of usll be coming to help as soon as we can. Thats probably the most important thing," he added. "Weve got to stick together. If you see someone in trouble, you stop and help because youd want someone to help you. Look, I know you think you drew the short straw." Chester knew for a fact they had. Hed rigged the ballot. "But think of this as a holiday. Youre out in the fresh air, and nothings trying to kill you. Believe me, life doesnt get much better than this." He didnt need the exasperated sigh from Nilda to know he shouldnt have ended his short speech like that. "Eyes on the coast," he added. "Keep watch for a farm." And he sat back to scan the sh.o.r.eline himself.

They were, Chester thought, like those people whod set out by boat on the day of the outbreak, then stayed offsh.o.r.e until the chaos on land forced them further out to sea. Though each had witnessed the deaths of people they knew and perhaps loved, theyd been hiding from danger ever since. That had been the sensible thing to do. It was certainly more sensible than what hed done. But the upshot was that these three, who according to Tuck were the most capable of those at the Tower, had done little more than clamber down through the roofs of buildings to kill the handful of undead trapped inside.

They viewed the Tower of London as a place of safety, but it wasnt. Sure, the castles walls were thick, and they had access to all the brackish water they could find the firewood to boil. Each successive trip outside would take them further from the castle, and thus the danger increased. It was inevitable that people would die. With no way for their numbers to be replaced, that meant more work for fewer people. So they would take greater risks and more people would die until, ultimately, their fragile community collapsed.

Their only chance was in finding enough food to keep the community alive until crops theyd planted had a chance to grow. That would take twelve months. At least. Even without the undead, Chester couldnt see them pa.s.sing a whole year without a death from disease or accident, suicide or childbirth. No, it wasnt twelve months. It was twelve years. This generation had to hold on until enough children could be born and grow strong enough to take over some of the labour. Twelve years before they could relax, twenty before they could dare a true days rest. He looked around the boat, his gaze finally settling on Jay. No, regardless of what hed said, the Tower wasnt sustainable.

Hed have to go back to Anglesey. That had been inevitable, too. Hed never expected to find Jay and had planned for nothing more than wandering Britain with Nilda until his own death. Was that why Mr Tull had given him that copy of Bill Wrights journal? Had it been a thinly veiled instruction as to the form his penance should take? It didnt matter. Theyd found Jay, but he wasnt yet safe. He couldnt be, not until hed reached the Welsh island.

If Chester made it to Anglesey, they would send a boat, but he honestly didnt know if it would contain food or instructions to abandon London. Despite what Nilda might want, one last, final evacuation was probably for the best. Chester closed his eyes and tried not to ask himself why, then, he was on a boat heading to Kent rather than in a car attempting the trip to Wales.

"What about that one?" Jay asked.

Chester was beginning to regret insisting everyone look out for farms. Ever since theyd pa.s.sed Gravesend and left the London commuter belt behind them, every other tree was pointed out as a potential source of food.

"Yeah, the field looks green," Finnegan said.

"Id say it looks blue. Its flooded," Chester said. "You cant grow much in salt water."

At least Jay seemed to be enjoying himself. Chester guessed it was because he hadnt seen much of the world beyond Penrith until hed travelled down to London with Tuck. The boy was starting to view desolation as the norm.

"There!" Jay yelled, and Chester realised hed fallen asleep.

"Where?" What?" he asked.

"There. That field," Jay pointed.

"Theres nothing in it."

"At the edge," Jay said. "Just before... Right. You see the house?"

"Its got a nice view of the sea," Chester said.

"Yeah, so theres a path running along the coast. Follow it down for a hundred metres, and there are the trees. You see them?"

"I can see trees," Chester said, "but not whats getting you so excited.

"The red things on the trees? You see those?"

"Oh yeah. Are they apples?"

"Probably," Finnegan said.

"Theyre more orange than red," Greta said, taking an interest herself. "Could be peaches."

"Or oranges?" Jay asked hopefully.

"Not outside a greenhouse," Finnegan said. "Do we stop?"

"Take a reading," Chester said.

"I just did," Greta replied. "And its the same as before. So, do we stop?"

Chester gave the house a closer examination. There were three trees with something orangey-red in the branches, and no undead in sight.

"No," he said, slowly. "Not yet. If we go ash.o.r.e now well lose the tide, and three trees doesnt add up to much when you share it out amongst fifty."

"Theres probably more farther inland," Finnegan said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. We can stop there on the way back. Thatll be nice though. Something for us to look forward to." And at least now they knew they wouldnt be going back empty-handed.

"How much farther west do we need to go?" Reece asked.

"Past the Isle of Grain, and then past the Isle of Sheppey. About another twenty miles or so. Maybe a bit further. Settle back. Have something to eat."

Finnegan pulled out one of the ration bars that had been stored on the lifeboat. Their only virtue was that they didnt require any cooking.

"Id rather have some fruit," he said.

"There. Those ones," Reece said, pointing towards the sh.o.r.e. "That polytunnel. Do you see it? Theres a chunk missing from the middle."

Chester peered at the hemispherical metal and plastic tube. "I think youre right," he said. "Whatevers inside looks green, doesnt it? But before you get your hopes up, four things. First, what was grown in there might not be edible. It could be flowers or something. Second, the insects and birds might have beaten us to it. Third, whatever it was might have come ripe earlier in the year. Fourth, look back that way." He gestured towards a barn, and the undead moving from it down to the sh.o.r.e.

"Its the engine," Jay said. "The zombies follow it. Follow us."

"So theyre all heading east?" Finnegan asked.

"Sure," Chester said. "You must have realised thats what happens."

"I knew they followed sound," Finnegan said. "I suppose I just didnt think of it before. Wait. So theyre going to keep on going? I mean, when we get to the beach, theyll be heading that way?"

"Nah. Theres going to be walls and houses in the way, and thosell slow them down. Once were out of earshot, theyll stop and wait until some other sound wakes them up."

"And thats going to be us coming back," Greta said.

"Probably. Nothing we can do about it. But well add that place to the list of those well investigate on our way back. A bit here, a bit there, it all adds up."

"Check the Geiger counter," Finnegan said, moving towards it himself.

"What? Why?" Chester asked.

"Look over there. You see it? That entire village has burned down."

"The readings fine," Greta said.

"Its probably a house fire that got out of control," Chester said, dismissively.

"How did it start?" Jay asked.

"Dunno," Chester said. "I doubt it was people. Light refracted against a car wing mirror onto a pile of leaves, maybe. Or through a kitchen window onto a carelessly stacked pile of newspaper. It could be anything. It could have been a zombie knocking something over. It could even have been lightning, or a compost heap gone critical, or a dozen other things. Fires happen. They happen all the time. Theres just no one left to put them out."

"Chester?" Nilda called. He went below.

"Whats up?"

"The waves. The tides turned, and were burning fuel just to stay in the same place."

Chester pushed his head up, and scanned the sh.o.r.e. "Thisll do."

"Were still miles from the farms that Hana wrote down," Nilda said.

"Its Kent. You cant throw a cow without hitting an orchard." He pulled himself back on deck. "Alright, listen up. Were going ash.o.r.e here. Well head in a loop, two miles south, then west, then north, and follow the coast back here to the boat. Were aiming for about eight miles in total, or a couple of hours on foot. If we find a likely looking farm, great. If we dont, weve got those places we spotted earlier to check. Everyone happy with that?" They werent, but they nodded. "Then check your gear. Water, weapons, and empty bags. Anything else is dead weight."

"Tie up those straps," Jay added, pointing at Finnegans pack. "And check your laces are double knotted. You dont want anything the zombies can tug on."

"Well see you in about three hours," Chester said.

"Well be waiting," Nilda replied.

"Alright," Chester said as he clambered down into the inflated life raft. "Dont forget, if you get lost, if you cant find your way back to the beach, then head west. It isnt going to be easy. Its not going to be safe. Its... well..." As he looked from Reece to Greta to Finnegan and saw that each wore the same expression of barely suppressed fear, a memory of a long ago Sat.u.r.day afternoon came back to him. His father had been newly released from prison. As the rain had pounded on the windows theyd watched a movie on the television, both unable to think of anything to say to one another. It was a film about D-Day. Not one of the great ones, just a cheap thing from the early days of colour, made when the props were all Army surplus, and the landing craft had come straight from a Royal Navy depot. He remembered the look on the faces of the extras, all men old enough to have worn the uniform for real, as the young actor portraying the gallant officer tried to boost their morale. Theyd been amused. Chester sighed. "Its what we call life now," he finished.

They paddled until Chesters oar brushed against pebbles.

"Close enough," he said, and jumped in. The cool water felt refreshing against his skin and had a tantalising clarity he found hard to resist. With the raft dragged above where damp stones betrayed the high tide mark, he took stock of where they were. Beyond the pebble and flotsam beach was a path, beyond that a patch of scrubland, and then a wall, a road, a hill. The path, made of flaking timber, had an optimistic hand-carved signpost with an arrow pointing to the east. Only a broken corner of green plastic remained of the label indicating exactly what lay in that direction.

"Where to?" Greta asked.

Chester checked the map, but couldnt be sure of their position. "All paths lead somewhere," he said. "Well follow this for a bit, see where it takes us."

It led, after four hundred yards, to an empty car park at a point where the road ceased running parallel to the coast and cut directly inland.

"Now we go south," Chester said, pulling out his knife. He hacked a rough arrow into the wooden planking pointing in the direction theyd left the raft.

"You wouldnt remember to turn left at the car park?" Reece asked.

"Im a city boy, through and through," Chester said. "For all I know theres a spot like this every mile, and this path runs along the entire stretch of coast. We go south. Keep an eye on the time, another on the fields and-"

"And a third out for each other," Greta said. "Thats what Tuck taught us."