London Eye: 1 (Toxic City)(34)

“Where are the other Irregulars?” he asked Rosemary as they paused beside an overturned lorry. It had been carrying boxes and boxes of books, the last bestseller now swollen into unreadable humps all across the road.

“We've been seen,” Rosemary said. “There was one in a house just back there, watching from an upstairs window.”

“Did you know them?”

“Don't think so. They'd have probably said hello if I did.”

“So is everyone alone, now?” he asked. “Is this how it always is?”

“Oh, no, Jack,” she said, apparently surprised at how he felt. “I do have some friends. There are people I see regularly, people I mix with. Many of us live on our own most of the time, of course, because it's far safer that way. But we have…not really a community, but an existence. There's plenty of hide and seek, but the Choppers don't bother us constantly. We just have to keep watch for them. And there are Irregulars with gifts that can do that for us.”

“So when do we meet Gordon?” he asked, feeling his friends’ eyes upon him as well as the lens of Emily's camera. “It's not just Lucy-Anne who wants to know about her family.”

“It's not far now. We have to cross a couple of main streets, but we'll be fine.”

“No dogs?” Lucy-Anne asked. “Wolves, lions, bears?”

“I've never heard of a bear being seen south of the river,” Rosemary said, and Jack was not sure whether she was joking.

They crossed the main roads carefully, running in pairs, and very little changed. Jack saw a dozen cats sitting together in front of one smashed-up shop, licking their paws, lazing in the sun and watching the humans rush across the street. It was an unsettling sight, because he'd never seen more than two cats sitting together before. It was as if the loss of their erstwhile owners had given them free reign to exist and adapt as they wished.

After the main roads, Rosemary led them along a lane beside a tall, grand looking building. Several cars had been burnt out here, and they had to climb over the scorched metallic ruins because there was no room between the walls. Jenna slipped on the last car and gasped as raw metal sliced her ankle.

“I'll see to that in a minute,” Rosemary said, and Jack stared at her with amazement once again.

Past the cars, the woman opened a heavy grille gate, which had a chain and padlock placed around it as though locked. When the others filed through after her she replaced the chain, hanging the padlock so that it did not quite click shut.

Jenna groaned, leaning on Sparky for support. Blood dripped from her boot.

“At least he'll have smelled us by now,” Rosemary said, kneeling beside the wounded girl.

“Make him sound like a bloody vampire,” Lucy-Anne said.

“There's no such things as vampires,” Rosemary muttered, and that made them all laugh softly. She looked up, surprised at first, and then smiling along with them. “Fair enough,” she said. “Maybe there are, and I just haven't met them yet. London's full of secrets.”

She rested Jenna's foot against her leg and touched the cut, growing still and silent as her fingers did their work.

A door opened behind them. Something long and dark emerged, aiming their way, and behind it was the most terrified face Jack had ever seen.

“It's me!” Rosemary said, jumping up and holding up both hands, the right one still bloody. “Gordon, it's me.”

The man behind the gun blinked and looked at all of them, one by one. “They're from outside!” he said.

“Yes, of course. I told you I was going.”

“But I never thought you'd come back.” Gordon lowered the gun slightly, and a smile struggled to break his expression. But he still looked frightened. “Come inside, quickly. There's been lots of patrols. I'm sure they know I'm here.”

“If they knew, they'd have come for you by now,” Rosemary said. “It's nice to see you, Gordon.”

He swing the rifle down by his side, and at last the smile looked almost at home. “And you.”

Rosemary went first, and the others followed, with Gordon closing the door behind Jenna and throwing bolts, turning a key and clipping shut two heavy padlocks.

“Nothing like home security,” Sparky said.

“Peace of mind,” the man said. “That's all it gives me.” He was a short, thin man, with closely shaven hair, a small goatee and piercing blue eyes. He looked exhausted, with dark bags under his eyes and heavy jowls. But Jack guessed he always looked like that, and probably had before Doomsday. He wondered what Gordon had been: Stock trader? Doctor? Shop keeper? He almost asked, but decided he didn't really need to know something so buried in the past. Nobody was what they used to be.