She reached out to it, but it always stayed a few inches away from her fingertips, examining her with a deep curiosity as if it was reading the depths of her mind. Eventually its puzzled face broke into a sympathetic smile and it dived forward to trace its fingers across her forehead before darting a few feet away. Its touch felt like the wings of a moth, but then a strange syrupy warmth flowed through Caitlin and in an instant even the last vestige of her grief disappeared. The being's smile became broad and warm. It waved to her once, and then soared back up to rejoin its companions in the treetops.
Caitlin could barely believe what had happened. In a rush of excitement, she ran from her lookout to tell the others what had happened.
Crowther was nowhere to be found, but Mahalia and Carlton had just returned from an exploration of the surrounding countryside. She gushed out a description of the event, ending with a passionate admission: 'It cured me! Of my grief, I mean! I'm sure it'll be back… I know it will… but for now… amazing!'
Mahalia merely nodded and said, 'Good for you.'
'You're not surprised? I mean, I'm talking about, you know, fairies or something
The girl shrugged blithely. 'I've seen things. Anybody who goes out on the road has — in the countryside, the wild areas.'
Caitlin had a sudden true perspective of the girl's age; Mahalia acted so much older than she was. 'What happened to your family, Mahalia?'
'None of your business.' Caitlin didn't need to quiz her further to guess the true picture. She knew how bad things had been in the cities — the breakdown of communication and food supplies, the riots and looting. In some areas, she'd heard tell there had been death on a grand scale. They'd all thought society had been so strong, but in the end it was as fragile as a human life.
As they made their way back to the campfire, Caitlin asked, 'Why are you coming with us? You know it could be dangerous.'
Mahalia's laugh was so bitter, Caitlin winced. The girl pulled her jacket to one side to reveal a harness of belts she'd strung together herself. It held various weapons — knives, straight razors, screwdrivers and other things that looked home-made but nonetheless lethal. 'You haven't seen what it's like out there.'
'No, I haven't. But I can guess…'
'No, you can't. Nobody could, because everyone had been fooled into thinking we're all such cosy, caring people. But take away a few home comforts and the truth really comes out.'
'I know some people-' Caitlin began in disagreement.
Mahalia laughed again. 'Listen up. I'd been hiding out in the country but couldn't find any food during that first winter, so I went into Southampton. Big mistake. All the rich folk had built a nice little compound where they'd stockpiled food and they'd found enough shotguns to keep everyone else out. The poor were left to fend for themselves in the city centre. And that's just what they did. There were gangs — young, old, black, white — all fighting for their bit of turf. They didn't care what was going on in the rest of the world, they didn't care about decency, they just cared about getting through the day. That's what happens when it comes down to survival. You'll do anything just to stay alive.'
'No…' 'Yes! I got picked up by some creepy old guy the first time I wandered in begging for food. He hit me round the back of the head with a lump of wood and dragged me back to his place, locked me in the attic with a bunch of others. He'd got a nice little business going, trading people for food… girls, boys, women…'
'For sex?'
'For anything… sex, work, stealing. I spent four nights in there — ten of us in a space as big as a van. No toilet, no light, a few crumbs of food every now and then, a few drops of water that tasted like he'd pissed in it. One woman in there… she'd got a baby. She'd been in longer than me. The kid was crying all the time, and she'd hardly got any milk. She was in a bad way. Then suddenly there wasn't any crying any more.'
Caitlin had a vivid impression of Liam in his pram. 'It died.'
'She killed it. Smothered it, because she needed all the energy she'd got just to stay alive.'
'Oh, no…'
Mahalia snorted dismissively. 'That's the way it goes. I got sold on soon after. But I wasn't anybody's property for long. I learned to look after myself. I've taken a man's eye out with a spoon, watched it bounce across the floor then squashed it with my boot in front of his good eye. And you know what? I let him off lightly — I should have had both his eyes out. I've stabbed a screwdriver into somebody's ribs while they were sleeping to collapse a lung. But I've never been raped! I'm proud of that. All the sick bastards out there, and nobody's ever took me.'
Carlton shook her shoulder roughly; he had tears in his eyes.
'I'm sorry, mate.' Mahalia gave him a squeeze, then said to Caitlin, 'This place is hell. People make it hell. It can't be any worse where you're going.' Caitlin drew patterns in the soil with a twig while she weighed Mahalia's words. Finally she said, 'I've seen terrible things happen — not like that, not things people do to each other but… bad things. And you mustn't ever let yourself think that the bad people are everything. Yes, they exist, but the best of humanity is out there, too. People helping each other… making incredible acts of sacrifice. I honestly believe most people are good.'
'We'll have to agree to differ there.' Mahalia suddenly jumped to her feet, pulling out a knife from under her coat.
Caitlin whirled to see a figure coming towards them out of the glare of the sun. It was a man, but not Crowther.
'Don't come any nearer,' Mahalia said.
He held up his hands, then moved slightly so that the sun was behind a tree and they could all see him. He was in his early thirties, good looking with blond hair and blue eyes that reminded Caitlin slightly of Leonardo DiCaprio; a sensitivity was embedded in his features that made her instantly warm to him.
'I didn't mean to scare you…' he began.
'You don't scare us,' Mahalia said. 'We just don't like you.'
'You're going to try to cross over, aren't you?' He fixed his attention on Caitlin.
Mahalia shifted suspiciously, looking to Caitlin for a lead.
'You don't have to answer — I can see it in your faces.' He lowered his hands slowly. 'I want to come with you.'
'Who are you?' Caitlin asked. 'And how do you know what we're doing here?'
'Matthew Jensen. Matt. Architect by trade. I know what you're all thinking — "Let's get him on board — that's a skill we really need." But it could be worse. I could be an estate agent. How do I know what you're doing here? You mean, how do I know all about crossing over, and that there is actually somewhere to cross over to? Well, long story.'
Carlton watched him curiously but openly, then motioned towards the fire.
'Carlton wants to know some more,' Mahalia translated. 'Me, I think, why would we need you tagging along? But I'm reasonable… I'll give you a chance to convince us. You've got five minutes.'
'Five minutes? I can give you my life story in half that.' He headed for the fire and sat down.
Caitlin had already warmed to his self-deprecating manner, but she couldn't see any advantage in him joining their motley crew. If she hadn't been so unstable at the time, she probably wouldn't have been eager to encourage Mahalia and Carlton to go along with them. 'So how do you know what we're planning?' she asked, sitting next to him. The question came to her in the screeching tones of Brigid, who seemed to have taken an interest in Matt.
'Simple. You wouldn't be here for any other reason,' Matt replied. 'The countryside's too dangerous to be wandering around alone. If you had any sense you'd be holed up with your community. And this place… all these kinds of places… the stories that build up around them keep everybody away. It's not exactly a top holiday destination.' He motioned to the haunting stones. 'During the Fall, I met someone who told me that all these ancient sites were doorways to the place where the gods came from. You know about them, right? You heard the stories… what happened to London? So, the nutter alarm went off. You smile and nod and shuffle away. But then I saw the lights over the stones at the solstices, the shapes passing through — not human, you know? — heard the music — God, the music!' He gave a faintly embarrassed smile. 'Sorry. You had to have heard it for yourself to understand, I guess.'