In The End Box Set | Books 1-3 Stevens, GJ (story books to read TXT) 📖

reply came from somewhere unseen. “Wait for the police,” a woman said, her voice on the edge of tears.

I looked to Alex and could just make out her face in the dull glow until a torch shined right on her. She pushed her hand out to block the beam as she turned away, shaking her head. The beam swapped to another face.

“We get away,” I said, and the beam was on me, but, used to the brightness, I didn’t shy away. “We walk, find somewhere safe. Stay in the fields until it gets light, till we can see where we’re going.”

A murmur ran around the thin crowd. Tears dried and breath slowed.

“We should get back to our houses,” a man’s voice shouted towards the back of the group.

“You need to keep your voice low,” I said, hushing mine. The crowd seemed to murmur in agreement and took a collective step closer to where I stood.

“What are they?” a woman’s voice said close by. Hers the clearest of the many questions pouring in my direction. I paused, not wanting my words to raise their blood.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I know what they look like.”

Noises of agreement ran around us.

“All I know is you need to stay away. You need to keep quiet. You need to find somewhere safe, somewhere with food until you’re rescued.”

Voices of encouragement greeted my sentiment. Names of places came from the crowd. The words were loud at first, then repeated quieter until the crowd broadly agreed on a supermarket a few kilometres away.

“Great,” I said and stopped. “Which way is that?” I added, watching in the moonlight as many hands pointed to our left. “Okay.”

As the crowd moved, following the way pointed, Alex stepped to follow until I put my hand on her forearm and held her back, my finger to my lips as she turned in my direction.

64

In silence she walked in my wake with my hand around her wrist.

I felt her tension, the questions on the tip of her tongue as we headed parallel to the growing amber glow and the cacophony still roaring at our side. With the fade of each short-lived scream, I imagined more people forced out into the open as the fires caught neighbour after neighbour. Under my breath I thanked them for their help drawing away the infected and keeping us safe.

With the amber glow at our backs, Alex twisted from my loosening grip. Before she spoke, I lingered on the halo above the village and the growing plume of dark smoke rising to blot out the stars. To its side I saw distant torchlight flashes, watched beams scanning the horizon and I couldn’t help fear the lights were seeking me out.

“Why didn’t we go with them?” Alex said in a quiet voice.

I turned, meandering away while my eyes adjusted from the lights.

“I told you, I have something to do. I have to get my cameras. I have to tell the world what’s happening here.”

“Shouldn’t we have brought them with us?”

“It’s too dangerous. They’re better off doing what I said.”

“Isn’t it too dangerous for us too?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

I let my pace quicken.

“And I don’t either?” she said, her mouth sounding contorted.

“You can catch up with them if that’s what you want.”

She didn’t reply for a while, her voice quiet again when she spoke.

“You need my help?”

“It’s your choice,” I said in a flat tone.

“You want me along though?”

I paused.

“I doubted myself back there. It’s a lot to come to terms with, but when I saw you with the fence post, I knew.”

“Knew what?” she said, her pace quickening to catch up.

“I knew you’d be okay. Knew you’ve got what it takes.”

“Takes for what?”

“To stay alive. To survive.”

She didn’t reply.

We walked in silence for what must have been ten minutes with still no sign of light on the horizon.

“What’s the plan?” she said, catching up after falling behind.

I paused and thought about the question. “Get the camera van,” I said. “Do you think you can operate a camera?”

“I guess,” she said. “How different can it be to a camcorder these days? What are we going to film?”

I paused again, hoping she was right, hoping that with her electronics skills she might be able to decipher the instructions.

My thoughts turned to all that had happened so far. I thought of all the missed opportunities; each time I should have captured the images. Each time I could have sent them back to London and the rest of the world would have known, would have come to the rescue. I thought of all the lives I’d seen lost. Thought of all the needless death and tried not to imagine the scale, fearing I’d only seen a fraction.

“We film what we see. We won’t need to be picky.”

She paused again.

“Where’s the van?”

I stopped and looked around the horizon, trying to get my bearings.

“The next village over?” I said, the words uncommitted.

She stepped ahead, repeating my turn around the view and pointed to our left, almost in a right-angle direction and started walked.

She spoke as I caught up. “Why the van? Why can’t we just Facebook live film it and then it’s out there for the masses? I bet you’ve got a few hundred thousand followers?”

“Two point three million last time I looked,” I said, not taking any enjoyment from the words. “But I saw how you reacted and you’re here. You’ve seen it for yourself. You thought it was a prank. How would that appear on the internet?” I let the words hang for a moment. “No. This needs to go through my editor. It needs sending out on the main channels. It needs to be on every screen. Then they’ll