Chapter one
Isla
The caress of death has never felt as terrifying as this does. Probably because it’s not my death I fear, but the death of this small baby growing inside my womb. The baby I am consciously bringing into this hellhole of a world, all by myself.
Terror wracks my body. Such a strong sort of it that I have never felt before, not even in some of the worst situations of my life. Not when I thought I would die from the virus that killed almost everyone I loved, and not when the inferno of flames licked up my back and I lost my brother.
Seven years ago, a deadly virus broke out across the world and killed most of the people on it. None of us know exactly how many of us are left, but judging by the fact that there is nogovernment, no laws or a structure to society, it kinda suggests not many survived. Or at least not enough who actually want to sort their shit out and rebuild as a country together.
Instead, most of the UK is made up of varying survivalist groups, all of whom were either immune to the virus or managed to avoid contact with it. Either way, it doesn’t matter now since it’s gone. As far as my group knows, the virus appeared one day, then vanished not long after, along with any semblance of a normal life.
I don’t know what the future will bring for my unborn child, or for me for that matter. What I do know is that it will at least experience pain and I don’t think I can bear for that to happen.
What kind of mother am I, knowingly bringing a life so little and innocent into such instability?
I gaze around the small classroom, where my sleeping group are scattered. Each woman lies in their different yet similar defensive resting positions. Sleep might be their current state, but I know all too well that none of them are in a deep enough rest to not wake at the slightest sound. We’ve been on the road long enough to know better than to ever let our guards down. Even before we left the camp none of us let ourselves think we were safe enough to relax completely. Well, the others didn’t anyway.
After the virus swept through the country, the army stepped in and collected anyone who was left alive. I’d stayed with them a while, nowhere else to go. At first, it was good. I had friends, and despite my burning resentment toward my brother for leaving me all on my own, I grew to like it there. But like everything in this world, it all went to shit. The worst in humanity always comes out, and bad people are like cockroaches; they always survive a disaster and terrorise whoever is left.
Disgust churns deep in my stomach at the memory of how naïve I had been in that camp – how idiotically trusting I hadbeen of that beautiful liar. I vowed that night to never trust again, and it is a vow that I will take to my grave.
Absentmindedly, I let my palm stroke across the slight swell of my belly. ‘I will never let anyone hurt you,’ I whisper, not loud enough for the others to wake, but the shifting of Elizabeth’s body next to me suggests she heard something.
The red-headed woman has assigned herself the role of my personal bodyguard since my best friend Fauna left on a supply run earlier today. Liz hasn’t left my side. She has been a constant shadow, making sure I am comfortable and protected. Despite her attentive actions we’re not close, not in the way people were close before the outbreak anyway. We don’t sit together giggling at silly stories or crushes. We’re close in a far more sinister way than that, and over the years, we have formed a bond that could not be broken even if we tried. There is something about killing for someone that changes your relationship. It connects you far more powerfully than any simple friendship could and the woman next to me has done just that.
Her bushy red eyebrows form a harsh V on her face. The almost permanent picture she always has whenever she sleeps, as if she doesn’t want anyone to see her at peace, especially not when she is vulnerable in sleep. When I think back on it, I don’t think I have ever seen her content, and that thought causes the constant ache in my chest to intensify.
‘We’re so fucked,’ I breathe.
‘Ummhmm,’ someone mumbles sleepily and the response has the corner of my lip picking up in a smile.
Even in the throes of danger, possibly surrounded by the most dangerous group in Glasgow, maybe even Scotland, we have a relatively light spirit. We might be harsh and stormy but we have somehow managed to form a unique humour that has carried us through some of the most harrowing days of our lives.
We didn’t have a choice but to make a pit stop in Glasgow before heading up to the Highlands like we had planned. We need supplies for the little one and that forced us to enter the city I once called home. The city where I once happily played with my brother, Ruaridh.
He’s probably dead now, a member of The Skulls probably being his killer. Walking into The Skulls' den was terrifying. Skeletons old and new are hung around the city with varying warnings pinned to them. But that isn’t what scared me; that was something more personal. Something that makes me fear for not only myself, but for the baby in my belly.
I inhale deeply through my nose, counting slowly in the balanced way my brother taught me, as I go through the breathing techniques he guided me through as an anxious teenager.
Ru, the nerd, my kind-hearted big brother, had such an obsession with research when we were kids. He always took it upon himself to help and protect others, and when my panic attacks started as a child, he made sure he used his obsession to find the most effective techniques to help me, the anxiety-riddled problem child. If only he could see me now.
I don’t have panic attacks the way I used to almost a decade ago. I trained myself into a different form of reaction to my anxiety, one that the soldiers in the camp couldn’t take sick satisfaction in bringing out of me whenever they wanted entertainment.
At the start of the outbreak army camps were set up. Most were further south and took me far away from my home in Scotland. They promised safety in numbers, but that’s not always the case. Thanks to Fauna, we left before it got too bad for us. She forced me to take that leap to leave, to travel back to my long-lost home and I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t fucking petrified with every step we took.
My anxiety appears silent on the outside whilst it screams like a banshee on the inside. Some days it screams so furiously I feel myself disconnecting from my surroundings. My vision will fade — it will blur away like my brain has stalled in the overwhelming, paralyzing fear of my anxiety. But my body knows, my body has never failed me when I am distant like that. It’s almost as if my mind wants to protect me from reality. Like my vision hides the demons from view whilst my body fights them off. Just as it did when I escaped the fire all those years ago.
I don’t know whether to be grateful for that or not. It is a blessing and a curse, one that will eventually cause my curious mind to combust with the need to know what I have been through. But for now I have enough to worry about.
Each and every one of the women around me has their own demons, but no one compares. We don’t fight for who has had it worst or who is most damaged because we are a family. We are bonded in ways many could never imagine and I know that no matter how terrified I am of growing this baby they will be with me every step of the way, especially since they are all I have to protect me.
I count the once glowing stars on the ceiling of the classroom trying to imagine the colours they produced and the magic they inspired in whoever looked upon them, hoping they will bless me as I lie here wishing for some sleep.
Chapter two
Isla
Big, strong hands wrap around my waist, stroking my naked flesh as they roam appreciatively around my curves.
