Numbers 3: Infinity (3 page)

‘Daniel,’ Adam says. ‘I’ll get Daniel.’

It’s only a couple of minutes until Daniel comes, but it feels like hours.

‘Let’s have a look,’ he says, as he crawls into the tent. He pulls out a stethoscope from his rucksack and listens to her chest. ‘Not too bad,’ he says. He takes her temperature. ‘Nearly forty. Let’s give her some paracetamol.’

‘Have you got some?’ Our last supplies ran out months ago.

Daniel produces a full bottle from one of the rucksack
pockets. I look at it, then at him. Where did he get a full bottle of medicine? We check every empty house and shop, and sometimes we’re lucky enough to find a sachet. But a full bottle …

‘I’ve got quite a bit of … kit,’ he mutters sheepishly.

‘How? Where from?’

He smiles. ‘The government’s got a stash. You just need to know how to get at it.’

‘And you do?’

‘I’ve got contacts, shall we say.’

‘Government ones?’

He smiles again but doesn’t say anything more.

‘Looks like a virus,’ he says. ‘Keep her drinking and I’ll give her paracetamol every four hours.’ He crawls out again.

Adam looks in.

‘He’s got medicine, Adam,’ I say. ‘He’s got a whole bag of tricks.’

‘I know.’

‘So this is a good place to stay.’

He sighs. ‘We don’t have much choice.’

I know it’s a big deal for him.

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘Just don’t blame me if …’

‘If what?’

‘I dunno. If it all goes wrong. I feel …’ He struggles to find the words. ‘Like a sitting duck,’ he says finally.

‘It’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.’ I really want to believe it.

‘Maybe,’ he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. ‘I’m going to start a fire.’

I turn back to Mia. She’s calmer already.

Her trusting eyes fix on mine and her number fills my
head. I don’t see numbers, like Adam, but I know hers. Adam told me. 2022054. Twenty-five years left. It’s better than the lifespan she started with, but it’s not enough. I feel sick at the thought. My daughter can’t die aged twenty-seven; it’s too young.

She needs to find another number, a better number.

Could I give her mine, like Val did? But how? How did she do it? If it would help her, I’d give it to her, of course I would. I’d give my life for Mia.

Her hair is damp from her sweat, darker and curlier than ever, but still blonde. It’s like a halo. All I can think is that twenty-five years is nothing. It’ll be over in the blink of an eye.

I gather her into my arms. Tears stream down my cheeks.

Mia puts her clammy hand up to my face.

‘Don’t, Mummy. Mummy sad?’

I don’t want to upset her but I can’t stop crying.

I wish I didn’t know. Adam’s brought this gift, this curse, into our lives. It’s not his fault, but right now, at this moment, I resent him for it. I hate him.

It’s not natural to know this stuff.

It crushes you.

Chapter 4: Adam

I
hear Sarah sobbing as I make the fire. Should I go back in the tent? I wait outside for a moment, listening, then I walk away into the forest.

I can’t blame her for being scared. I’ve been scared for most of my life, ever since I realised what the numbers meant. I was only five. That’s a long time.

She’s frightened for Mia, and so am I. But I’m frightened
of
her, too. I’m ashamed, but I can’t help it.

It’s wrong, isn’t it? She’s a beautiful child – with those blue eyes, that blonde hair, her skin all tanned from living outdoors. A golden child. People look at her wherever we go – after they’ve clocked me first. And of course it’s not her looks that freak me out, it’s her number. She don’t have the number she was born with. I get this spooky feeling when I look in her eyes. Her number sort of shimmers in my head, like it’s not there. It reminds me every time of Nan and that terrible day in the fire, at the start of the Chaos.

Nan wasn’t meant to die that day. She had twenty-seven
years left. I always thought she’d be there for me, that I could rely on her. I thought she was safe. But she weren’t. She died. There one minute, gone the next. I can’t even think about it now without getting a lump in my throat.
It’s not fair.
None of this is fair. I didn’t want Mia to die so I walked into the fire to save her. But I didn’t want Nan to die neither. I can’t help wondering: did Mia take Nan’s number? Was it murder? Or did Nan give it to her?

No one knows what happened. It’s our secret – mine and Sarah’s – and I reckon it should stay that way.

And this feeling about Mia, I’ve never even told Sarah. But what happened that night of the fire wasn’t right.

It wasn’t natural.

I don’t know what the rules are any more. I don’t know how it all works. If Mia can change things to save herself, does someone else always have to pay the price?

In the evening, we gather together around Daniel’s fire again.

It’s rabbit stew this time. The hot food’s intoxicating, it makes me warm and woozy. Marty and Luke caught the rabbits – they’re feeling proud, I can tell. They’re pushing each other, and laughing and joking. Someone starts singing, an old song.

Mia’s gazing into the fire and the flames cast a rosy light on her face. She looks more like an angel than ever. She seems better. Daniel’s paracetamol did the trick. But what about next time? Sarah’s right – we do need people.

I put my arm round Sarah and rest my hand on her waist. Beneath my fingers I can feel the baby moving. She leans in to me. I kiss the top of her head, close my eyes and breathe in, listening to the singing. For a moment, just a split second, I’m happy. We were right to stay.

The noise of the engines is so quiet at first I hardly notice it. It’s like it’s part of the singing, and then, as it gets louder, everyone hears it at the same time and the singing stops.

The light from the flames flickers on our silent faces. Then I realise everyone’s looking at me.

‘They’re back,’ Daniel says. He don’t need to say who.

Three men on motorbikes. The sort of people you don’t grass to.

I jump to my feet, grab the boys’ hands.

‘Come on,’ I say. ‘Let’s go. Now.’

Marty and Luke look at Sarah. She puts her hand up to my wrist, trying to stop me.

‘Adam …’

It’s no good. I know it’s not logical, but I’ve got to move.

‘Please,’ I say.

She sees the look on my face and struggles up, with Mia in her arms.

‘Adam, stay put. We’re all here for you,’ Daniel says. He looks round the circle and everyone nods in agreement. He’s speaking for all of them. But I can’t just sit still. I can’t.

We stumble away from the fire, picking our way between shelters and out into the dark forest where we huddle together, facing the camp. We can see here, but not be seen. The sound of the bikes has stopped, but now there are three points of light bobbing towards the fire. Soon I can see three figures moving: men in black leather jackets and trousers, black boots, black gauntlets. They sweep the beams of their torches to either side as they approach, and stop just outside the circle. There’s an obvious gap in the places we’ve left – why did no one think to close it up?

Every eye’s on the men. It’s not just their clothes that makes them different, it’s the way they carry theirselves, and
their weapons: army-issue rifles slung over their shoulders and a belt of ammo across their chests.

The man in the middle steps forward. He’s got grey hair, cut short, and a strong jaw, almost square. His face is pale, like he hasn’t been outside for a while, but I couldn’t say how old he is. Thirty? Sixty?

‘We don’t want to break up the party,’ he says. His voice is deep but sharp, clipped. ‘Just looking for somewhere to stay the night.’

Sounds innocent enough. Three travellers in need of some sleep.

Next to me, Mia whimpers.

The boys are quiet, watching like us.

Sarah shushes Mia, who’s curled up in her arms, hiding her face in her hands. ‘Dragons,’ she’s whispering. ‘Noisy dragons.’

‘Sh, Mia, shh.’ The warm, relaxed feeling we had round the fire is long gone. Sarah’s face is pinched and anxious.

‘You’re welcome to stay,’ Daniel says. ‘We’ll find you some food too, something hot.’

The three of them step closer to the fire and take up our places in the circle, with their backs to us. The man who spoke is obviously the leader. To his left there’s a smaller guy, wiry and mean-looking. The other one is huge, a mountain of a man with long dark hair.

It’s cold now we’re beyond the reach of the fire. Marty and Luke are shivering. Mia starts to cough. Sarah holds her in closer, but nothing can muffle the noise completely.

There’s no reaction from the people by the fire. Everyone faces the flames in silence. Then the questions start.

‘You know who we’re looking for,’ says the man with grey hair. ‘Have you seen him? Have you seen Adam Dawson?’

I hold my breath.

Will Daniel and the others lie? Will they save us, or will they save their own skins?

‘I’ve seen him, yes,’ says Daniel. ‘He passed this way, but he’s gone now.’

Not a lie, strictly speaking. But not a giveaway neither.

‘How long?’

‘He left just after lunch.’

‘So you won’t mind if we search the camp?’

‘Do you have a warrant?’

The man laughs. It’s a grating sound, like he doesn’t use it often. ‘No, I don’t have a warrant. I don’t need one. I’m on government business. My name’s Saul, that’s all you need to know.’

So it is the government. I feel the world crashing in on me. Is it the old murder charge? Is that why they’re here?

Daniel’s looking uncomfortable now, but he’s still civil.

‘You want to search in the dark?’

‘That’s right.’

Daniel shrugs. ‘We’ve got nothing to hide here, but these are our homes. There are babies asleep. It’s getting late now. Why not wait until morning?’

Saul pauses. ‘We could – I suppose. After all, no one will go far in this darkness, will they?’

Daniel don’t answer the question. He says, ‘Do you have a tent?’

‘We do, but you’re right, brother, it’s getting late. We’ll just bed down in our sleeping bags near the fire.’

Daniel nods, but Saul wasn’t asking permission.

The evening’s over. People start making their way back to their shelters. The three strangers walk away into the darkness to fetch their things.

‘What do we do now?’ Sarah whispers.

‘We get our stuff and go,’ I say.

‘But it’s pitch black out here. How far do you think we’ll get?’

‘I don’t know. We just need somewhere to hide.’

‘In the dark?’

Why doesn’t she understand? Why isn’t she scared of these men? Why can’t she just agree with me for once? Mia starts coughing again.

‘Stop coughing, Mia. I need to think.’

‘It’s not her fault. Look, they’re coming back. Sh, Mia, shh.’ Sarah unbuttons her coat and wraps it round Mia, rocking her back and forth.

‘Away,’ says Mia softly. ‘Man go away.’

We watch as the three men put their sleeping bags on the ground near the fire. They have a bottle, too. The gold liquid catches the light of the fire as they pass it between them. Everyone else has gone now.

They talk quietly amongst themselves, matey, jokey, like men used to spending time together. My body jerks as a shiver runs down my spine. The cold’s starting to bite. How long before they go to sleep and we can tiptoe away? The bottle’s nearly empty, the fire’s starting to die down.

Then, without turning around, the man with the grey hair, Saul, raises his voice and calls out into the night air, ‘Why don’t you come nearer to the fire, Adam? You must be freezing out there.’

Chapter 5: Sarah

I
t feels like we’re cornered, though there aren’t any walls behind us, just miles and miles of dark, empty forest. He must have heard Mia coughing. At least I don’t need to argue with Adam any more.

‘Help me up,’ I say to Adam, and we all shuffle forward.

Marty and Luke are hiding behind me.

The three men turn to watch us. I’m not scared at first, but as we get closer to the fire, and to the men looking at us, I get the creeps. I can feel the leader’s dark eyes on me. It’s as if he’s touching me, and I want to slap him away.

Mia starts to cry. I wrap my coat further round her, but she’s cowering inside, burrowing her head under my armpit, and her thin little body is racked with tears and coughs. ‘Away,’ she keeps saying through her tears. ‘Man go away.’

‘How did you know we were there?’ Adam asks.

Saul switches his attention away from me, and I realise I’ve been holding my breath.

‘I could sense you.’

And just for a moment I believe him – he’s a devil, a vampire, a werewolf. Someone, something, with superhuman powers.

Then he laughs. ‘I picked up your chip in my beam.’ He pats the torch hanging off his belt. ‘It’s a clever little thing, this. And I heard the child coughing,’ he adds. ‘She sounds bad.’

‘She’s fine,’ I say, ‘but I need to get her into bed now.’

‘Is this your daughter?’ Saul says. He’s not talking to me but to Adam, who neither agrees nor puts him straight. ‘Let me look at her.’

‘No,’ I say, holding Mia closer, shielding her, but Saul’s on his feet and reaching towards me before I know it. He grabs my lapel and peels the front of my coat back. And now his fingers are touching her face, turning her head towards him, his thumb prising open her eyelid.

‘What are you—? Stop it!’

‘Mum-my!’ Mia sobs.

Her frightened blue eye stares up at him, then her chest heaves, her arms and legs shoot out, and she starts to kick and yell. I’ve never seen her react like this to anyone.

‘Get off her!’ Adam and I are both shouting now.

Saul doesn’t apologise, just steps away. But he carries on staring at her, and then he laughs again, that harsh, unnatural sound.

‘The girl in the woods,’ he says. ‘She’s a noisy one. Looks like an angel but screams like a devil.’

I hate him. I hate this man, who thinks nothing of waking a child up and laughs when she cries. I can’t believe he touched her. It makes me feel sick.