Marc Chadbourn - The Queen of sinister

That thought brought a succession of jarring images: the first case brought into her surgery, the sudden realisation, the mounting horror as the bodies piled up in the village hall. The faces… her friends… acquaintances… good people, undeserving people… and then Grant… and Liam… She rammed her fists into her eye sockets to drive out the terrible pictures, the sickening smell of clay and the clammy feel of wet clothes.

The sound was barely audible, but it jolted her out of her emotional state. Something was in the room, alive. Rats? The arm of one of the corpses dropped suddenly and made her jump. Behind it she saw movement — too big for a rodent.

'Come out.' She could barely believe someone was hiding underneath those suppurating bodies.

Vibrations amongst the cadavers suggested a brief struggle was taking place, and then the corpses fell away as a boy of around nine or ten pushed his way out. He was black, his hair shorn to a bristle, and a little overweight, but he had big, expressive eyes that made him seem much younger. He blinked once, twice, his gaze filled with hope.

'Don't worry,' Caitlin said, shocked. 'I won't hurt you.'

There was a sudden rush of falling bodies and another figure emerged: a girl of about sixteen, also black, her features street-smart and hard. 'Don't come any closer,' she said menacingly. She was brandishing a switchblade.

Caitlin held up her hands. 'It's OK.'

The girl's cold eyes searched the room and the hall beyond. 'You're not with them?' she said, without lowering the knife.

'The gang with the V-shirts? No. I just got here as they left.'

The girl scanned Caitlin's clothes and came to her own conclusion. 'You'd better not try anything,' she said. Despite appearances, her voice had an educated inflection, but her attitude was unmistakably dangerous. Yet behind it Caitlin could see a hint of fear in the mirror of her eyes.

'My name's Caitlin. I'm a doctor.'

This piece of information reassured the girl enough for her to lower the knife, but it didn't remove the iciness from her face. 'Got here a bit late, didn't you?'

'Come on, let's get out of here,' Caitlin said gently. 'It's dangerous.'

'Everywhere's dangerous.' Hardness came to the girl's voice easily, but she still indicated for the boy to follow Caitlin out.

Crowther waited in the shade of a tall ash, watching the empty street cautiously. As Caitlin led the new arrivals up to him, his face showed weary annoyance at another complication. 'I'm Caitlin and this is Professor Crowther.' The girl made no attempt to venture her name in reply until the boy gave her a little shove. 'Mahalia,' she said. 'Jackson.' Crowther raised an eyebrow. 'Like the singer.' 'Like me,' Mahalia replied. Caitlin knelt before the boy, warmed by his open, honest features. 'And what's your name?' she said. 'He can't speak.' Mahalia's body language was defensive of her charge. 'Actually, I think he can speak — he just doesn't choose to. Don't ask me why.' Caitlin looked into his face for confirmation, but all he gave was a broad, warm smile. His eyes, though, showed such depths they made Caitlin shiver. 'His name's Carlton Breen. He wrote it down for me.' 'Where are your parents?' Caitlin felt a jab of anxiety. Mahalia snorted and looked away. 'Is this your home?' Caitlin pressed. 'We're from Winchester. At least I am. I don't know where Carlton's from. Have you got any food?' 'No, but we can probably find something-' 'Why don't we go shopping for clothes while we're at it,' Crowther snapped. 'We can't leave them here alone,' Caitlin replied. 'We can't take them with us. Do you have any concept of what we're going into? Believe me, they'll be far safer here.' A sharp pain stung Caitlin deep in her head; she felt as if she was falling back into a dark tunnel. 'If you don't take them with us, I'm not going!' Mahalia and Carlton's eyes widened at the petulant child's voice coming from Caitlin's mouth. Crowther swore under his breath. 'All right. For a little while.' He marched down the drive. 'Though you do realise having a nursery tagging along is going to be the death of us.' They found some vegetables the looters had missed and cooked a brief, bland stew before setting off again. Striding ahead, Crowther made no attempt to hide his aversion to spending any time with the others; he was already plotting ways to jettison Mahalia and Carlton when an opportunity arose.

Once it had been confirmed that the two children were coming with them, Amy allowed Caitlin to resurface. 'What happened to you back there?' Mahalia asked suspiciously as they trudged amongst the trees. 'With that creepy little-girl voice?'

Anxiety coiled inside Caitlin. 'I don't want to talk about it.'

'Fine,' Mahalia said with a dismissive shrug. 'This should be an interesting journey. On the road with a grumpy old man and a crazy old woman.'

'Have you been on your own for long?' Caitlin asked.

Mahalia clearly wasn't used to small talk. Her suspicious eye suggested she was waiting for Caitlin to ask something of her. 'Since the Fall. Wandered across the south coast after skipping my school… just trying to stay alive like everybody else.'

Caitlin could hear the intelligence in the girl's well- spoken voice. 'And there's nobody else to look after you? No family?'

'I can look after myself well enough.'

'You shouldn't have to try to survive on your own. Everyone needs somebody.'

For some reason this comment annoyed the girl. 'I've got Carlton and he's got me, and we've done all right so far. We don't need you. We're going along for the ride, for something to do. But we can walk away at any minute. Don't forget that.' She marched ahead so she wouldn't have to talk to Caitlin any more. They picked their way across patches of heath and through dense woodland for five miles, attempting to stay out of view as much as possible. The countryside had grown wild more quickly than they could have believed possible and at times the going was hard, but by early afternoon the last remaining clouds were finally blown away and the brilliant spring sunshine took some of the edge off their journey. 'But you've got to have some idea where you're going!' Mahalia said in disbelief after quizzing Caitlin about their destination. The question troubled Caitlin. There was an existentialist peace in simply walking; to consider any more meant facing up to what lay behind her. 'I'm just following the professor.' She winced at how pathetic that sounded. Mahalia turned her attention to the professor, who was attempting to keep several yards between himself and the others. 'You know where you're going. I've seen you looking at the sun to keep a check on your direction.' 'Aren't you a clever girl.' 'If you don't tell me, I'm just going to keep asking until you're sick of me.' 'I'm sick of you already.' 'Where are we going?' Crowther made an angry sound in the depths of his throat. After a few seconds of reflection, he said, 'We're going to find a cure for the plague.' Caitlin looked down at her feet, her face strained. Mahalia considered Crowther's response thoughtfully. 'So you know somewhere that's got a vaccine?' 'Not quite.' 'Then where are you going?' 'There's no point explaining it to you, you wouldn't understand,' Crowther said as patronisingly as he could manage.

Mahalia grew flinty. 'Try me.'

Crowther rounded on her as his irritation peaked. 'All right, little girl. There's no cure for the plague in this world — no hope at all. So we're going to cross the dimensional barriers to another world, and hopefully we'll find the answers we seek there.'

Mahalia's thoughts played out clearly on her face: at first she was sure he was mocking her, secondly that he was as insane as the girl clearly thought Caitlin was. But then a strange thing happened that gave Crowther pause: Carlton tugged on Mahalia's arm to get her attention and nodded assent. The girl instantly acquiesced.