Coldbrook(58)

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Moira said. It was strange hearing her voice after seeing her communicate with sign language and expressions.

‘And you,’ Holly said. ‘Thanks for helping me.’

Moira nodded but seemed tense, her eyes wide and expectant.

‘And I’m Paloma.’ The other woman was tall and severe-looking, her coffee skin speckled across her left cheek and neck with what might have been burn scars, or the remains of an old illness. She stepped forward in front of Moira and placed the bowl of berries on the table. ‘I hope you liked the rabbit. I caught and cooked it.’

‘It was delicious,’ Holly said.

Paloma stepped back and Moira came forward, her hand shaking as she placed the wine gently on the table. ‘And she’s exactly like us?’

‘As far as I can tell,’ Paloma said.

Moira nodded and backed away, and the moment grew ever more surreal.

‘You’re the doctor?’ Holly asked.

‘I do my best with what we have,’ Paloma said.

‘And Paloma is my wife,’ Drake said. He remained outside the room, letting the two women go through their routine.

‘So, you’ve established that I’m human,’ Holly said. Paloma nodded and Moira stared. ‘Why do I still feel like an exhibit?’

Moira laughed and turned away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I’ve never seen someone from—’

‘We have something to show you,’ Drake cut in. Moira raised her eyebrows – annoyed rather than chastened by Drake’s interruption, Holly thought – and Paloma smiled for the first time.

‘So I’m not a prisoner any more?’

‘You never were.’

Holly stood, taking a sip of the wine and swallowing a handful of berries. They could be drugged, or poisonous, but the women could have harmed her in either way without the subterfuge. So she accepted their gifts and sat back down.

Drake shifted uncomfortably, Moira looked back at him, and Paloma simply stared at Holly.

‘Tell me one thing before I come with you,’ she said.

‘Of course,’ Drake said, and there was a vulnerability in his voice she’d never detected before.

‘What’s beyond the hills?’ Holly asked. ‘What else is out there?’

‘The rest of our world,’ he said. ‘Our Earth.’

Holly nodded, her heart thudding as she remembered the way that zombie – that fury – had come through the breach. Staggering, slow, weathered away.

‘It ended,’ Paloma said. ‘Before I was born. The furies’ threat lessens as they age, but they left little behind.’

Holly felt sick. It was a truth that she had expected, but to hear it spoken was still a shock.

‘And you fight them with just bows and arrows?’

‘Silence is our best defence when we’re out in the open,’ Drake said. ‘That’s why we use . . .’ He signed, clicking his fingers, and smiled at whatever he had said. ‘And why we find it safer using bows and crossbows – anything louder would be foolish. Destroy what’s left of their brains and they become still. Properly dead. An arrow or a bolt usually does it. But decapitation makes sure.’

‘Are you the only ones still fully human?’ Holly asked, barely able to speak because the answer might be so awful.

‘There are isolated islands of survivors,’ Moira said. ‘A few communities here and there. Wanderers. The older ones tell us what it was like before, and there are books.’

‘So we do mourn what should have been,’ Paloma said, as if to know that was important.

‘I’ll tell you the rest while we walk,’ Drake said.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Down into Coldbrook. You don’t think we spend our lives living in caves, do you?’ He smiled that confident smile again, and Holly had to remind herself that she was the stranger here, she was the visitor.

Gaia was another world, and yet it was very much like the Earth that Holly knew. They spoke English here, and she craved to know the extent of the similarities. Had they known Mozart and Metallica, Shakespeare and Stephen King? Was there Britain and Australia, or had their history evolved away from her world’s long enough ago for such things to be vastly different?

Everything Jonah had believed was true, and he didn’t yet know. He might even have died without knowing.

As they left the small room and headed along a corridor lit by oil lamps, Drake started talking.

‘There’s a whole history to tell you. I’m keen to know of the differences between our worlds, when our Earth and yours . . . parted ways. That should be easy to pin down date-wise, but the actual cause . . .’ He shook his head, but when she glanced at him Holly saw an excitement that reminded her so much of Jonah. ‘But first and for your own safety, you need to know about the world you’ve come to. Our Earth is a dead world. It died forty years ago with the Fury plague, in nineteen seventy-two. It spread quickly. Spanned the globe. And less than six weeks later, all was lost.’

‘Forty years!’ Holly gasped. ‘None of you can be—’

‘There are a few here old enough to remember,’ Paloma said from where she and Moira followed behind. ‘Though most of them try to forget.’