"I know about the night things."

I let out a sigh. I looked up and saw that above me the guard was listening to our conversation with interest. I wondered if he had ever been out at night, or whether anyone in this town had ever spent a night in the dark hoping a stalker didn’t catch their scent. Then I remembered Noah and the others in the shack, about how they'd risked their lives to help me with the stalker.

I took a step toward Justin. "The things out there will tear you apart."

His eyes were wide. "I can handle it. Or you can show me."

"I'm not a babysitter."

"And I’m not a baby. I'll pull my weight. I've got supplies," he said, and gave the little bag in front of him a kick.

The bag was packed tight, and I could see the outlines of tin cans busting at the fabric. The stuff would have been a godsend for me, considering I only had enough on me to last a couple of days at a stretch. But the price was having a tagalong, a kid who was so green that he'd blend into the grass, someone who would undoubtedly make the wrong move somewhere down the line and get us both killed.

I could see that he was earnest in wanting to join me, and his intentions were good, but it wasn’t a chance I was willing to take. I shook my head softly. "Why do you even want to come?"

He leaned in a little closer. His voice was quieter. "This town, there's nothing to it. No future. The people here are drinking themselves stupid, and they're not thinking about what’s coming. We should be doing something; farming, expanding, I don't know what. But they're sinking into a rut and they're smiling about it."

The kid was making a little sense in this point. "It’s not much better out there," I said, and nodded my head back toward the gate.

He looked at me in a strange way, almost knowingly. "I bet you got a plan."

He was right, though there was not a chance I was telling him what my plan was.

"You're not coming - end of discussion."

His shoulders sagged, but he didn't say anything else. Maybe the message had finally gotten through to him.

"Look, kid, stay behind your walls. It's safe here. It might not be much of a life, but at least you got one. The second you step outside these walls, it's forfeit."

He said nothing, just stood there and sulked.

I gave his bag a tap. "Take these back to wherever you took them from, people will need them. And look, can you tell this wanker to open the gate?"

Justin looked up and the man in the turret. "Moe says let him go," he said.

The guard pressed a button. The chain and pulley on the gate creaked into motion, and soon the black bars swung open. I stepped through them, out of the safety of the town and back into the wastes. Behind me, I could feel Justin's eyes on my back following me every step of the way.

                                                        ***

I walked out of town and into the woods. The temperature was warm and the leaves on the trees were still. Although the sky was sunny, a grey cloud was gathering to break it. I could smell the earthy aroma of the pine trees, and for some reason it made me feel hungry. How long had it been since I'd eaten?

There were a few lone infected walking lazily through the trees, but there was nothing to worry about unless I planned on making a racket. My most pressing need was to find shelter before night came. There I could get some food in my belly and fire up the GPRS, because I needed to get my bearings. The last two days had knocked me off course, and I didn't have a clue which direction I should be heading in. I could have turned it on there and then, but I didn't trust doing it out in the open. There were too many places for bodies to lurk and eyes to see.

I walked for forty-five minutes and I found the shack that Noah and his friends had stayed in. I didn’t know whether I should use it; for all I knew, it was a regular spot for the Vasey scouts, and some of them could easily turn up while I slept. The last thing I needed right now was to run into anyone from Vasey.

Then again, I doubted they'd be making any runs anytime soon after what happened to Noah, and besides, the sky was starting to turn a little too dusky for my liking and I didn’t want to get caught in the open. I didn’t have a choice.

I got inside the shack. It was just one room, and it was empty. At some point it had probably been used as a storage shed for park rangers, but now it was just four walls and wooden floor boards. There was a faded poster imploring the use of walky-talkies on patrols on one wall, and from another a sink stuck out from the plaster, though the water had long since been cut off.  I dropped my bag and sank to the floor, resting my back against the wall that was furthest away from the door. As soon as I touched the floorboards, I felt my energy seep out of me.

In the corner of the room I found a small grill camping stove with a rubber tube that connected it to a gas canister, as well as two bottles of water that I deemed drinkable through their lack of any offensive odour. I twisted the knob of the camping stove to feed it gas, and I pressed in the ignition to create a spark that sent blue flames shooting underneath the grill. Despite it being evidence that the Vasey scouts used this shack on their trips, it was a fantastically lucky find. If I'd had a calendar with me, I would have checked to see if it was my birthday.

Five minutes later I had a chicken soup sachet cooking in the pot. The smell was salty and about as far away from chicken as you could get, but the aroma of warm food was enough to make my mouth water. I could almost hear my stomach thanking me in anticipation.

While the soup simmered I reached into my bag and took out my GPRS. I turned it round in my hand looking for nicks or scratches, and once I was satisfied there were none I rotated the screen toward me. It was time to see just how much further I had left to go. I thought of the detour of the past two days, and I clenched my jaw. I knew I must have at least four hundred miles left, and I could cover about twenty five a day if I got my arse in gear. This had been was two whole days wasted, fifty miles not walked.

I pressed in the rubber ON button and waited. It usually took a moment and then the screen turned blue, but now it was completely blank. I left it a few more seconds, but the tight feeling in my chest made it hard to be patient.

I pressed it again. And again. This time I pressed the button in deeper, held it in longer. The screen stayed black.

I ran my fingers through my hair. If the GPRS was broken, I was absolutely screwed. The farm was so far away that I would never get there without directions, and though I'd been told where it was, I had never been there myself. My only link was the GPRS, into which years ago Clara had programmed the coordinates ready for a trip that we never got to make.

The idea of the farm and carving out a life there was a dream, really, because there was no telling what kind of state it was going to be in. But I had to make it. I owed it to Clara, because I'd promised I'd get us there once. I promised her that no matter how run-down it had gotten, we would put the work in and make it our own; that we’d make a safe home in a world where death stared in from all sides.

And now the screen was black. I twisted the unit in my hands again looking for signs of damage. In my haste I dropped it to the floor. I snatched it up again, held my breath, and pressed the button.

Nothing.

I stood up. I put my hands behind my head and paced the room. It was broken, that much I was sure of, and the chances of getting the parts to fix it, even if I had the know-how, were slim.

I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't stay still. Everything was ruined.