run again, willing myself to keep moving faster. My energy levels are dropping now that I’m the one being chased, and every step takes ten times the effort it did before. My hunger has been replaced with fear, and the crowd’s getting closer. Every time I look back over my shoulder they’re nearer still. There’s a gap in the row of buildings to my left-leading to another even straighter, even narrower road-and I take it, my heavy boots and aching feet pounding the concrete, shock waves shooting the length of my tired frame. All my strength and energy have gone. Can’t keep going…
I stop halfway down the second street, unable to go any farther. I look back, and the crowd is still surging after me like a herd of stampeding animals, close enough that I can see their faces now. They suddenly stop, maintaining an unexpected, cautious distance. I sense they could attack at any moment, and I’m scared. For the first time in months I feel genuinely afraid. I look at the people at the front of the hunting pack, and I see that they’re like me, but I sense they’re going to attack. Why? Do they think I’m one of the Unchanged? I open my mouth to try to explain, to try to make them understand, but I can’t force out even a single word. I feel crushed, devastated, and humiliated, wishing I were like them again. They look at me with total hatred…
I turn around to run and find myself facing Ellis. In disbelief I move closer toward her. She backs away from me, matching every step forward with a single step back, then stops again when I stop.
“Ellis,” I start to say, my parched voice barely audible, “I thought you’d…”
She throws herself at me, leaping up with lightning speed and grabbing hold of my throat. I’m down before I know it, my face slammed hard into the ground…
10
BAD DREAM, SLEEPING BEAUTY?” the man sitting next to me asks. I nod but don’t answer. I rub my head where it just thumped against the window of the van and immediately remember where I am. It’s late in the day, I’m on my way back home with three other fighters, and I’m feeling travel sick. Can’t remember the last time I went anywhere by road like this. Is it safe? The confidence of the rest of the people in the van makes me feel out of step with everyone else.
The cocky, sour-faced guy next to me is Paul Hewlitt, and he seems to have a far higher opinion of himself and his own abilities than anyone else does. In the front of the van are Carol and Keith, who’s driving. As far as I’m aware there’s nothing between them, but they bicker, fight, and argue like an old married couple. I feel like I don’t belong here. I think I’d rather be doing this alone. Maybe I’m just not used to being with groups of people anymore?
“Will you put that damn thing out?” Keith moans as Carol lights up a cigarette. She blows smoke in his direction, deliberately antagonizing him.
“No,” she snaps abrasively, her voice dry and harsh.
“Don’t know where you keep getting them from.”
“You don’t want to know,” Paul pipes up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw you,” he says, “checking the pockets of corpses.”
“Well, they don’t need them anymore,” she argues. And she’s got a point. But does that make her any different from the Unchanged I saw fleecing bodies earlier?
“You’re disgusting,” Keith sighs.
“I’m addicted,” she answers back quickly, “and I don’t want to quit. Cigarettes are one of my few remaining pleasures. Where else am I supposed to get them?”
“At least open the window, then. Last thing I want to do is be breathing in your secondhand smoke all night.”
“Hold your breath, then,” she grumbles, begrudgingly winding down her window. The cool, relatively fresh air that floods into the van is a relief, and I breathe it in deeply.
I look around at the three people I’m traveling with tonight, and I can’t help but feel concerned. I haven’t seen any of them
I stop halfway down the second street, unable to go any farther. I look back, and the crowd is still surging after me like a herd of stampeding animals, close enough that I can see their faces now. They suddenly stop, maintaining an unexpected, cautious distance. I sense they could attack at any moment, and I’m scared. For the first time in months I feel genuinely afraid. I look at the people at the front of the hunting pack, and I see that they’re like me, but I sense they’re going to attack. Why? Do they think I’m one of the Unchanged? I open my mouth to try to explain, to try to make them understand, but I can’t force out even a single word. I feel crushed, devastated, and humiliated, wishing I were like them again. They look at me with total hatred…
I turn around to run and find myself facing Ellis. In disbelief I move closer toward her. She backs away from me, matching every step forward with a single step back, then stops again when I stop.
“Ellis,” I start to say, my parched voice barely audible, “I thought you’d…”
She throws herself at me, leaping up with lightning speed and grabbing hold of my throat. I’m down before I know it, my face slammed hard into the ground…
10
BAD DREAM, SLEEPING BEAUTY?” the man sitting next to me asks. I nod but don’t answer. I rub my head where it just thumped against the window of the van and immediately remember where I am. It’s late in the day, I’m on my way back home with three other fighters, and I’m feeling travel sick. Can’t remember the last time I went anywhere by road like this. Is it safe? The confidence of the rest of the people in the van makes me feel out of step with everyone else.
The cocky, sour-faced guy next to me is Paul Hewlitt, and he seems to have a far higher opinion of himself and his own abilities than anyone else does. In the front of the van are Carol and Keith, who’s driving. As far as I’m aware there’s nothing between them, but they bicker, fight, and argue like an old married couple. I feel like I don’t belong here. I think I’d rather be doing this alone. Maybe I’m just not used to being with groups of people anymore?
“Will you put that damn thing out?” Keith moans as Carol lights up a cigarette. She blows smoke in his direction, deliberately antagonizing him.
“No,” she snaps abrasively, her voice dry and harsh.
“Don’t know where you keep getting them from.”
“You don’t want to know,” Paul pipes up.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw you,” he says, “checking the pockets of corpses.”
“Well, they don’t need them anymore,” she argues. And she’s got a point. But does that make her any different from the Unchanged I saw fleecing bodies earlier?
“You’re disgusting,” Keith sighs.
“I’m addicted,” she answers back quickly, “and I don’t want to quit. Cigarettes are one of my few remaining pleasures. Where else am I supposed to get them?”
“At least open the window, then. Last thing I want to do is be breathing in your secondhand smoke all night.”
“Hold your breath, then,” she grumbles, begrudgingly winding down her window. The cool, relatively fresh air that floods into the van is a relief, and I breathe it in deeply.
I look around at the three people I’m traveling with tonight, and I can’t help but feel concerned. I haven’t seen any of them
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