I could feel him poking at my patience. “Take a look outside. I can’t think of a more useless skill to have these days than knowing who ran the country in 1968.”
Justin’s eyes darted to the corner of his eye sockets for a split second. “Harold Wilson. But that’s not the point. I’ve got a memory palace.”
Maybe he couldn’t sense how brittle my will power was and how bad it would be for him if it broke, because he took my silence as a sign that he should explain himself. He looked me in the eyes, gave me a beaming grin, and then spoke. “What I’m saying is, I’ve got an amazing memory.”
"Then maybe you better remember how close I was to snapping your neck."
"I do. And there's all sort of other things I can store up here.” He tapped his temple. “Really interesting things. When you were unconscious in Vasey, for example, I memorised the route stored on your GPRS tracker."
I lifted my head. "What?"
"Your route - I memorised it, every single step."
"Are you screwing with me?"
Justin smiled, and I could see one of his teeth was missing on the bottom row. Too bad there were no dentists around these days. "Nope. I can tell you every step you need to take to get to wherever it is you're going." He cleared his throat. "But just where it is it we’re going to end up, exactly?"
"You should know, apparently," I said, ignoring his use of ‘we’ for now.
"I know the route, but I don't have a clue what's waiting there. The end point you set means nothing to me."
It was clear what he wanted. The GPRS unit was broken, and the kid had memorised the route. He was my only lifeline to get where I needed to be, and he knew it. I only had two options - give in to him and let him come with me, or give up on the farm.
Was he worth the risk? The boy was as naive as it got when it came to surviving, and not only would I have to look out for him, but any wrong move he made would put me in danger as well. At some point, too, I was sure that I was going have to dig a grave for him, because nobody lasted long in the wilds. And I had already done too much digging.
I thought about the farm and my promise to Clara. I thought about having to see yet another person die, and then having to bury him.
When the time came, I would do it. Until then, I didn't have much of a choice.
I stared at him intensely and kept my tone firm. "You don't move unless I tell you to. You don't do anything unless I give you permission. You don't use this genius brain of yours to decide anything for yourself, and you definitely don't speak unless it's an answer to a question. Got it?"
Justin nodded and gave a faint smile.
"And the second we get to the end of the route, you're gone."
Chapter 6
Justin’s feet thudded on the forest floor and smashed every twig and leaf in their path. With each crunch and snap I looked around me to make sure we hadn't drawn the unwanted attention of an infected.
"Do you have weights in your boots?"
Justin looked at me. His face was looking wearier, a little less cocky and there was two days of stubble sprayed on his cheeks, though most of the hair was light and the growth was sparse. "What do you mean?"
I put a hand on his shoulder and forced him to move slower. "Walk a little quieter. It's like you're trying to invite them over for a chat."
We had covered thirty-five miles in the last two days. The first day after Justin had joined me we only walked fourteen, because despite getting something to eat, I still felt zapped. I also found that travelling with someone else held you back in other ways. The kid couldn't match my pace, and though he never asked me to stop or take a break, there were times when his breathing got heavy and I could tell his steps were tough for him to take. The second day was better, and we managed twenty-one miles, but this was because we got out of the woods and managed a full day's walk over flat terrain.
We moved over the English countryside, and under different circumstances I might have said it was beautiful; it was green, hilly and clear for miles. You didn’t have to worry about an infected jumping out at you because you could see everything around you in all directions, and that meant you could afford to walk a little quicker. For two days our view had been nothing but swaying fields with grass high enough to reach our ankles. Now though, we had hit woodland again.
"How thick is this patch?" I asked him.
His eyes looked up and to the side, as though he were searching his brain for data. "I don’t know. The GPRS didn’t have a route through the trees. We should be on the road somewhere over there,” he said, and pointed east of us.
I looked up. Through the slots of the tress I could see the sky, and it looked grey. Darkness was starting to creep in, and soon the whole woodland would be black. I looked as far through the trees as I could but there didn't seem to be any shelter. There wasn’t going to be any scout shack like back in Vasey, because there were no populated areas in this neck of the woods. This made me sweat. I didn't want to be out in the open again when the stalkers came.
"How far’s the nearest town?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno."
"I forget that you're not Google."
"Eh?"
I shook my head. "Never mind."
"Are we stopping?" asked Justin.
I dropped my rucksack to the ground. It was about five times heavier than it had been two days ago, and though this meant extra weight to carry, I was glad of it. Justin had brought enough supplies with him to get us a hell of a lot closer to the farm, and the first thing I'd done when I agreed to let him join me was to transfer most of them to my own bag. The kid thought it was because I wanted to help him carry the load, but really it was because if he screwed up and got himself killed, I didn't want to be left starving.
I took a look round us and, seeing nothing, lowered myself to the forest floor. The mud was a little damp from a light shower in the morning, but it had been a long time since I had cared about something like that. Justin sat down, felt the wetness of the dirt and instead put his bag underneath him.
"Think we're going to have to hold up here for the night. Don't know exactly where we are, but I got an inkling there's a village a few days away."
Justin blinked. "You don't trust me, but you’ll trust an inkling?"
"An inkling never got me killed."
Truth was I had been here once, many years ago, so I had a dim recollection of the area. Back then though, I had been with Clara, and I had been too focused on how beautiful my new wife was to take in the scenery.
"Won't 'they' come out? The things?"
"Stalkers." I said.
"That's what they're called?"
I nodded. "That'd be the dictionary term, if someone out there was still printing them. Truth is I don't know if they’ll come out here. But I think we're good for miles on either side - there's nothing here but fields. Stalkers stick near towns and villages where they know there are people.”
Justin tilted his head to the side. "What are they?"
I swallowed. I didn’t want to spend time thinking about the stalkers. "Don't ask. Just if we ever see one, for god’s sake do what I say."
A few hours later the woods were cloaked in darkness. Somewhere in the tree above me a bird shuffled in its nest, and aside from that the only sound was the regular chirp of crickets. A breeze blew cold on my cheeks, and with it came the smell of spring onions from a patch that must have been growing nearby. The sky was so black that I couldn't see whether it was cloudy or not, though the absence of stars wasn't a good sign. The last thing we needed when we didn't have shelter was for it to start raining. I'd spent some long, wet nights out in the open over the last few years, and I didn't plan to spend many more if I could help it.