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“Seventy-six years ago,” I pointed out, capable of more than a little waspishness myself.

She inclined her head in recognition of my point. Less than a beat passed before she ruined it. “Years going by don’t necessarily make a place safer. It’s just as likely to be more dangerous.”

Keaton shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Maybe you should stay here. I don’t want to—”

“No. I said I’ll help, and I meant it. You wanted me to stop lying. Well, don’t turn that into one.”

My grandma was quick to hide her smile behind the back of her hand, but not quick enough for me not to catch it. I narrowed my eyes at her. While I knew she had genuine concerns about the area south of here, there was another agenda at play: she was testing the strength of our bond. “We’re going,” I said. “End of subject.”

Caroline offered me a smile that might have looked innocent if I didn’t know her as well as I did. “Of course, dear. Just don’t go through London. That’s all I ask.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “It’s the quickest route.”

She tapped a finger on the table. “That’s my only stipulation. Don’t make me leave this place to Barclay.”

“To Barclay?” I snorted. “Laura works her fingers to the bone for you. Cooking. Cleaning. Fetching and carrying for you all day long. Yet, you’d leave it to Barclay. Why him?”

Caroline fluttered her eyelashes. “Because it would annoy you more.”

I shook my head, Keaton’s gaze swiveling back and forth between us like it was a game of table tennis. Not that he probably had any idea what that was. “And that’s what you want to do, is it? Annoy me.”

“If it means you coming home in one piece, then yes.” There was no arguing with that, so I didn’t. “Promise me you won’t go through London. I might not have been there for over seventy years, but we’ve both heard the stories.”

“What stories?” Keaton asked, his curiosity piqued. “I was based in Scotland, and they didn’t reach that far.”

“Bad things,” Caroline said. “That the biters basically run amok there, and that any non-biters that survived are basically people you wouldn’t want to meet. Gangs. People who’d stab you in the back rather than look at you. And that’s before you get to the mutated animals.”

Keaton’s eyes went wide. “Mutated? How?”

“Bigger. More savage. Infected. And we’re not just talking dogs and cats. There were animals in London Zoo when it all went down. It’s said the tigers turned in the first rainstorm, that they got out and have been breeding ever since.”

“Do you think a tiger could catch the bike?” I mused.

Caroline’s stare was hard. “I don’t know. Would you be willing to bet against it?”

I’d only ever seen a picture of a tiger, so I had no actual evidence I could use to argue against it being possible. From what I’d seen in history books, they had some nifty weapons at their disposal in the form of teeth, claws, and powerful limbs, and that was with no mutations. If it made them as frenzied as some humans I’d encountered, they’d be unstoppable.

“Promise me,” Caroline repeated.

I let out a sigh. “I promise.”

She sat back with a smug smile on her face. After a few seconds, she switched her focus to Keaton. “Would you come sit closer to me, dear? My eyesight and hearing aren’t what they used to be.”

When he looked to me, I nodded, knowing he had nothing to fear apart from questions. Sure enough, once he’d gotten up and moved—the rest of the apple pie going with him, and Caroline scraping the rest of hers into his dish once it was empty—he was subjected to an interrogation.

It began with his place and date of birth, moved through the demise of his parents and the disappearance of his sister, the attack from the biter that had led to his dismissal from the army, and culminated in the present day. All the while, I struck a nonchalant pose that suggested it was nothing but background noise, though I was very interested indeed. The worst part was knowing exactly what Caroline’s expression meant once Keaton had regurgitated his history. It said, he’ll do. I rolled my eyes at her when Keaton wasn’t looking, my grandma mouthing “what?” at me.

“You could stay a bit longer?” she eventually said. “A couple of nights at least.”

“Maybe,” I said. “We’ll discuss it.”

She smiled. “Make sure you do. Communication is just as important as the other stuff.”

Keaton frowned. “What other stuff?”

Chapter Twenty

Keaton