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step removed from me, would rip me to shreds when they caught up and I’d no longer be able to save the children, or find the answers to my questions.

Somehow my speed increased. Somehow, to the calls from the boat, a chorus shouting from the small vessel for me to rush and with hands reaching out across the water, I jumped, leaping into the air with gunshots cracking, not checking where the weapons aimed.

I landed, the boat almost tipping, my weight almost too much for it to cope with in the shallow waters. The engine sound rose and I pushed down the surprise that Cassie hadn’t already powered away at full speed. I put the rifle shots out of my mind whilst staring to the shoreline, barely panting, watching and waiting to see if any of the monsters followed.

Four figures took to the air, but none could match my power, each falling long before they even got to where the boat had waited. Each creature landed in the mud, its depth taking them to their shoulders with water lapping at their necks as their mouths snapped open and shut whilst staring at our vessel shrinking into the distance.

The rest followed, rushing along the bank, but getting smaller with each moment.

Alex took my hand, her skin so warm, despite the sticky blood. I’d never felt so alive as in that moment.

With her other hand, Alex passed a rag so I could clean my face.

I looked to the other shore when high screams called out, my gaze following another crowd of creatures unable to keep up, but trying as they ran along the bank. I knew then our only hope would be to take the vessel out to sea, unless the soldiers had something more substantial waiting in the estuary’s mouth.

75

LOGAN

There was no other plan, at least no one spoke of one. All that was left was to head out to sea in the tiny boat. The figures racing along the banks of the widening estuary were a clear enough answer to any question we could ask, compounded by the columns of smoke rising from the lost town at the mouth.

Winding our way through the quickly deepening waters, the movement on the banks kept pace like shadows on either side. Although the creatures travelled slower than we did, new numbers joined with every mile travelled, soon too many to count. Their leaping frenzy and the speed at which they raced painted a terrifying picture for the future of humanity.

Peering out across the estuary, I looked to the calm waters ahead. Squinting, I could almost block out the rising smoke in my peripheral vision. Salt in the air became the new perfume, giving an overwhelming relief. I couldn’t remember the last time the terrible combination of bodies decaying and foul sewerage didn’t surround us.

I could almost kid myself we were on a daytrip; a pleasure cruise on the river before heading back to a comfy bed in a house with a roaring fire.

As we wound around a long bend, the vision shattered at the sight of a ship in the middle of the wide water with the deep orange of its hull turned towards us, leaning away at a sharp angle out to sea to hide most of its battleship grey.

Water lapped at its edge as desperate expletives launched from the soldier’s lips.

“Tyne,” said Sherlock at my back, as murmurs spread across the boat.

Cassie couldn’t steer a wide gap; the narrow channel on either side forced the detail into view, the sharp, rust-free lines of the ship’s hull adding to the deepening sense of despair.

“How’s the fuel?” Thompson asked, bringing me back to the next leg of the journey.

Cassie peered down to the controls and replied without looking up. “Three quarters of a tank. Is it enough?”

Thompson replied, “I’d say we need three or four hours if it’s not too choppy.”

“There’s no way of telling how big the tank is,” she replied, her voice still flat.

With Thompson’s nod, I knew we were committing to a wing and prayer we’d have enough fuel to get to the Isle of Wight.

Although the sky had darkened, as we passed the great hulk of steel looming over us there was still enough light falling on the ship’s steep angled deck to see the bodies caught up in its abandoned equipment.

The stench of fuel caught in my nostrils; the rainbow shimmer slick on the water’s surface looked so beautiful in the last of the light.

I turned away as something in the distance fell to the water, but no shouts for help came after. No one wanted to rescue what had fallen.

With our view clear, I looked out to the water and the vast expanse of the English Channel stretching as far as I could see. With the sun almost gone over the horizon, I rocked with the gentle motion of the boat as we cut through the low waves.

Thompson climbed the steps to the wheelhouse, speaking with Cassie loud enough so we could all hear. “Keep land to the left and don’t drift out until you see the coast of Weymouth jutting out. Then we’ll head straight for it. We can navigate by the land and if we get low on fuel, we won’t have far to go.”

I turned away as Cassie gave a shallow nod. With the light almost gone, I sat on the deck, looking to the coast to the left. Watching the glowing lights, I tried to pretend flames weren’t climbing high as I relaxed with the rise and fall of the waves.

With a nudge at my side I turned, surprised to see Gibson’s smile in the last of the light, then glanced to the bright moon high in the sky. Looking back, he offered half of a small bar of chocolate.

Nodding a thank you,

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