The Apocalypse Blog
by Melanie Edmonds

After yesterday’s realisation, I’ve been walking in a fugue of uncertainty. I couldn’t decide what to think next, about anything, which leant the world an unreal feel. I caught myself trailing fingertips over objects as if checking their solidity.

It was the perfect night for the girls to tell me it was my turn to entertain the men. In the dark hours after the rain, three of them came to my bunk: Nadine, a young woman with a scar marring her left cheek; Lavinia, showing each of her sixty-some years in tough-tanned lines and crow’s feet; and the matronly woman who called herself Mama Prusco. Ranged behind them, and listening more than they were letting on, were the rest of the women.

Their message was simple. I had been in Haven long enough to know how and why things work. I had had my chance to settle in and take advantage of the gifts available here. Now it was time to give back and take part in the things that make Haven work.

I almost laughed in their faces. I almost asked them if they knew that Haven was barely working at all and there would come a time when all their offered comfort wouldn’t save them. It was tempting; I wanted to tear all of it down. I wanted to show the bones of what they were protecting, harsh and bare.

I had to clamp my jaw shut to stop the words from falling out. I knew I’d say too much of all the wrong things. I let them talk, I let them start to explain to me how it wasn’t that bad – the men were grateful and usually very considerate. I could have fun, too. They had no idea at all.

“I understand what you’re doing,” I said at last. It was enough to make them stop and listen. “And I admire your courage for being able to do it. But I can’t. I’m sorry, but the answer is no.”

They weren’t used to being refused so firmly, or so calmly. They had been expecting histrionics but I couldn’t bring myself to be that upset about it. I didn’t want to do it when I thought Haven meant something, and there was no way I was going to give up that part of myself for a lie.

Besides, I had something – someone – better.

They started to argue with me. I told them no, and then Jersey came over and told them to back off. That prompted Mama Prusco to turn to the girl in the next bunk over from mine and ask if she was finally ready. That’s when I got angry with them.

Iona, the girl in the next bunk, is of an indeterminate age between sixteen and twenty-five. Something broke in her when the bombs went off, leaving her unhinged from the world and vague in her responses. She smiles easily and wishes she had flowers to tuck into our hair, we’d look so pretty. Last night, she was murmuring to herself about a field of glass and the pretty flowers when Mama Prusco turned to her.

I got in the way and so did Jersey. Iona barely understood a simple question; she certainly couldn’t understand what was going on with the men and it was cruel to try. Putting her in that position would be rape.

Nadine blamed me. If I would just go along and do my duty, then they wouldn’t need to ask Iona. I wasn’t going to let them bully or blackmail me into it, and I told them so in short, sharp words. If she was so regretful, she could go pleasure the men herself. Jersey looked like she wanted to punch one of them in the face; I think if they had pushed any further, she would have.

The trio backed down and grumbled off to find another ‘volunteer’. I checked on Tia to find that she had been wise enough to make herself scarce while they were looking. The wariness in her glance makes me wonder if she wasn’t always so quick to hide from this; it was a little too knowing for my liking.

Part of me wonders if I’m being foolish. Is this really something to get so wound up about? But the thought of doing what they want me to do makes my stomach roll over uncomfortably. And then there’s Matt. I just can’t find a good reason to do it and plenty to make me say no.

I don’t know who they took in my place. I think they’ll ask me again tonight if they find me. I’m in the back cupboard here, posting instead.

Screw them. Screw their deal and their hungry men. I’m not going to give in to their pressure. They’re not having a piece of me or my friends, not if I can help it.

Things are quiet at the moment, but not comfortably so. The infirmary has one less patient – Pauly’s internal injuries have been deemed not so serious and Simon sent him back to the dorms. That leaves just Draskill with his broken shoulder, and he’s no trouble. He’s dosed most of the time or playing cards with Peter.

In the dorms, I’m being shunned. The other Seekers talk to me, and disturbed Iona talks to anyone. Everyone else is keeping their distance – nothing overt, but there is a distinct bubble where I walk. Jersey gets away with refusing to play ball because she helps protect the girls, but I have no such kudos to trade on.

I can see now why Tia caved. She made friends quickly here, and having them go cold on her would have hurt her badly. She wanted to be accepted and they are making the price for that perfectly clear. Like a kid bullied at school, she gave up her lunch money and now hunger is gnawing at her belly.

I feel responsible. Trevor asked me to look out for her but I’ve hardly been here for her. There was Dad, and Matt, and everything at the infirmary to deal with – but they’re just excuses. I should have been here. I don’t know what I could have done – I might have been able to support her when she came under pressure.

At first, I thought about getting upset. They are breaking us down, one by one. Fitting us into this uncomfortable Haven mould. Lines are being drawn around me, separating me from friends, from potential friends, from having the kind of life I can live with. Every door is being slammed in my face, and the more I see of the room I’m stuck in, the more tarnished and fake it is.

I didn’t get upset. Not a tear for how this place is turning out. I’m sick of it. I’m tired of being disappointed by an institution that is supposed to be our hope and salvation. I’m fed up of them making me feel bad because I don’t want to play their compromising games. I’ve had enough.

I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I have to do something, but there are a lot of factors to consider. Men, guns. Food, shelter. My dad, my friends, Matt. I have a lot to lose and a lot to work out. I just wish I knew where to start.

Today, I woke up looking forward to my day at the infirmary. With all of the tensions and sharp sideways looks, it’s nice to be out of the dorms and away from the other women. There’s only Draskill to care for and he’s getting stronger every day, so my days are mostly trying to clean equipment. Rubber gloves and try to use as little disinfectant as possible, please.

A new patient arrived around mid-morning. One of the kids was brought into the infirmary with a fever and a cough. I remember hearing that cough in other throats. A quick check of the little girl turned up a splashed scar on her calf that looked like it was made by acid.

My stomach was like a small, cold stone when I saw the scar. Her name is Debbie. She has beautiful red hair that glows in the orange-tinted sunlight. In a few days, she’ll be dead.

As I was tucking her into a bed, my mind went to a Rat-infested mall we visited once upon a time. There was a room full of sick kids, all coughing and overheated by an internal fire. One of them travelled with us for a while, poor Alice with only half a face. We never saw them afterwards, but I don’t think any of them made it.

Then I thought about the kids we left behind at the University – Estebar and Nugget. How are they now? Has either of them been burned yet? Have they fallen prey to the Sickness, or its resulting shamblers? I wish I dared to steal a radio so I could call them and find out. I want to know that they’re okay.

I can’t bear the thought of such a small thing as a shambler. All that promise turned into gnawing hunger that breaks itself, ruining its perfect potential. I wanted to ask Simon if he would chain Debbie in the basement when she finally turns. I wanted to ask him if he had chains small enough for that. I didn’t dare form the words in case he had an answer for me.

There are only a handful of kids here – I don’t know how many, but it’s not enough. With so little to look forward to, so few of us left, each young life means so much more than they used to. Children were always precious, and in the After we’re all aware of how much we need them if we’re going to cling to any form of future. But we can’t save this one. She’s only just getting Sick, but there’s nothing we can do. We offer small comforts in this last journey of hers because it’s all we have.

It tears at me every time I smile and force cheerfulness out of my lips for her. She’s six years old and her name is Debbie. The Sickness is just starting to take hold of her. In a few days, she’ll be dead and I wish I didn’t know her name.

Today started about as well as can be expected and then slid downhill at a dizzying pace. Debbie is still Sick, though Simon is unwilling to diagnose her. It could just be flu, he said. We can’t know for sure yet. I wish I shared his cautious hope.

As I was heading towards the infirmary’s storeroom this afternoon, I caught sight of Matt. Simon was checking his leg and seemed to be nodding. Just the sight of my best friend made me feel lighter. Warmth blushed in my chest as I busied myself, wondering if ‘best friend’ is really what I should be calling him now and waiting for him to come free.

The next thing I knew, he was heading for the door. I hurried after him; his head was down and I had to call his name three times before he stopped. His face was taut with a fixed look to it that scared me; it closed him off and I wasn’t used to that from him.

I thought he must have had bad news from Simon. Maybe he’d never get rid of the limp, maybe something else had gone wrong. I touched his wrist and asked him what Simon had said to make him so upset.

“Nothing,” he said. It was so hard to read his eyes. “My leg’s going to be fine.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I know what you did.” He spat the words at me and at first I thought he was angry. My fingers fell away from his arm. “Derek told us all about it.” Not angry: hurt.

“Derek?” I was so lost. I don’t know a Derek.

“The one you were with last night.”

Panic started to claw at the inside of my abdomen. I had no idea what he was talking about; the only fella I spent any time with last night was Jonah, when he escorted me back to the dorms. When I said that, Matt scowled and went to push past me towards the door. I had to latch onto him and beg him to stop before he’d even look at me. By then, we were causing such a fuss that everyone in the infirmary was staring at us, even little Debbie down the far end.

I had to plead with him and practically drag him into an exam room so that we could have some kind of privacy. I saw Peter smirking before the door closed, but I was too scared to make much of it just then. I was losing the best thing to happen to me since I discovered my dad was alive and well, and I wasn’t sure that I could get it back.

It took some prying to get the story out of Matt. He didn’t attack me with it; he was upset and hurt, but he wasn’t angry with me. I think that made it worse.

This fella named Derek had come back to the dorm after the nightly ‘entertainment’ visit and boasted about what he’d been up to. He’d used my name, said all kinds of things about how much fun he’d had and in what positions. In some detail, by the sound of it; Matt wouldn’t repeat most of it.

It was the last part that brought tears to my eyes. “It’s not like we made any promises to each other,” he said. He couldn’t look at me. “I know how things work here.”

He thought I would actually do it. He was excusing it. He thought he had no right to be angry with me, because we had barely started being together. It was hard to tell which part hurt most.

“We might not have made any promises out loud, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there,” I said. My voice was thick and it was hard to push the words past the lump in my throat. “Matt, I love you. I’d never do that to you. Never. You know that.” Not after what Cody did to me. Not after what I thought Ben did. I know how that betrayal feels, so it’s the last thing I’d do to someone I cared about.

I kept speaking, afraid to stop in case he said he didn’t believe me. It wasn’t me. This Derek was lying, or mistaken. Maybe someone put him up to it. Maybe one of the girls lied to him, knowing what it would do. But it wasn’t me. I was being ostracised because I had refused to take part in it. I had no proof to offer him except words and what he knows of me already, and that felt so thin.

By the time I stumbled to a stop, we were standing a few inches apart and both had damp cheeks. My hands were cradling his head, in case that would make him hear me better, wanting to hold onto at least a small part of him. Wanting to stop him from turning away from me and leaving me so alone. He hadn’t looked at me since we had come into the room and I so desperately wanted to know he believed even a little of what I was saying.

“Have you?” I asked him suddenly, not knowing where else to go. “With anyone?”

It was enough to make him meet my eyes. “No.”

I clung to his gaze; I wasn’t sure which of us was drowning, but if I could hold on, we’d both be able to breathe. “Please, Matt. Don’t let them do this to us. It’s not true.”

He closed his eyes and bowed his head towards me. There it was: the sign I was waiting for. He believed me; finally, he dared to let himself believe in me. “When I heard him, I nearly–”

“I know,” I told him. I remembered how it felt when your whole world tips and everything is stained with uncertainty and lies. I didn’t want any more words; I wanted to make it up to him, make him feel better, make him understand how strongly I feel about all of this. So I lifted my lips up to his.

Once we had latched on, we couldn’t let go. Cold, sickening doubt burst into sudden heat. The roil of released emotions burned through us with an intensity that made my head spin. There were only feelings between us; it was all about hands and mouths and bared skin. Giving ourselves up to each other and snatching desperate breaths. Holding on so tight we left marks.

I don’t remember how or when we wound up on the floor, but that’s where we were when it was over, tangled and shivering. I tucked my face in against his neck and didn’t want to let him go.

After we’d stopped shaking, we talked a little. I was worried about his healing leg in all the exertion and he laughed. The least of his worries at the time, he said. I can’t bring myself to mind.

We sobered out of our giddiness when we made promises to each other, putting our feelings into words in the hope of chasing away fears. There’ll be no more doubt about that any more. He asked if I thought I could deny the deal forever, and I told him my answer would always be no. I wouldn’t bow to their pressure. It made him unhappy, knowing that pressure would be there.

I told him the other things I had discovered about Haven. About the Converter and the ‘accidents’. He frowned as he absorbed it all, and then he said something that has been rattling around in my head for days. It was a relief to hear it on someone else’s lips.

“Let’s leave Haven.”

Let’s leave Haven.

The words have a beautifully simple shape to them. They ring with a rightness that my bones yearn for. Let’s just go, get out of here, leave the shattered promises and compromised morals behind us. My heart expands as if we’re already free.

Matt and I talked about it yesterday. Lying on a bed of discarded clothes, we talked in hushed voices while the rain rattled on the window. He’s going to talk to the boys and I’ll approach the girls, quietly, casually. We’ll find out who wants to come and work out what we need to do. And then we’ll do it.

If only it really was that simple.

We can’t just walk out of Haven.

We’re not officially prisoners here, but we might as well be. We can’t even walk the compound unhindered, never mind up to the gates. There would be demands and orders and stop right there or we’ll shoot.

Even if they opened the gates and invited us to leave, they know we wouldn’t dare to walk through them. We’d never make it to shelter on foot before the rain came; our journey would have a short, screaming end. Everyone knows we won’t make it far on our own and they won’t give us the equipment and supplies we need. Not even the gear we arrived with.

So we’ll have to take it. Somehow, we need to amass enough food, water, fuel, and vehicles to get out of here. Not much – just enough to get to somewhere where we can forage for more. It’s hard to know how far away that somewhere is now; so much of the suburban sprawl had been picked clean before we got here. How far will we get before we realise we’re going to starve?

More importantly, will they chase us? I don’t know. Will they waste even more resources in a pursuit? Is their pride and anger greater than their pragmastism?

If they do chase us and catch us, we’re not going to get a slap on the wrist. They have weapons. Worse: they’re trained in how to use them and have stocks of ammunition. I remember the people begging for help outside the supermarket depot, gunned down before they realised what was going on. I don’t want to become those poor, murdered survivors.

The more I think about it, the more the task swells before me. There’s so much to organise and many secrets to keep. I have to work around the weight of my watchers – not just my pet cutout Jonah, but also Peter and sometimes Simon. Not much gets past those guys. The women are keeping an eye on me, too, waiting for that weak moment when I’ll agree to their deal. That moment will never come.

I won’t have to do it all on my own. There are others I know will come with us – most of the Seekers, if not all of them. I don’t know how many of them have made themselves a real place here. They’ll all help make this happen.

What we’re going to do is risky, and tricky, and difficult. We’re going to try it anyway. Just as soon as we figure out how.

The path to the gates is glistening wetly in the dark. I need a better flashlight if we’re going to find our way there safely.

It’s hard to restrain the itch to get out of here. Every part of me wants to announce it to the world and then sweep out, like an old-time heroine in huge skirts.

But I don’t have any skirts and I wouldn’t get past the door right now even if I did. Jonah is very firm about keeping me in where I’m supposed to be. I’m forced to skulk and whisper in corners. Fear is a great motivator; the General was wise enough to recognise that.

I managed to draw Jersey aside last night, in between her grouches over the troop entertainment. She’s eroding her own place here with that; the women liked her because she protected one of their number, but their gratitude is failing in the face of her disapproval of the whole system. She continues to offer them protection, often going along with the nightly troupe to make sure that none of them are hurt, with disparaging comments and much shaking of her head. I suspect she might be turning into a passion-killer and can’t quite bring myself to mind.

When I told her that we were leaving, she went quiet. First, she asked who ‘we’ were, exactly. Matt’s talking to the male Seekers, and I’m asking her and Tia. She asked when, and how. All those awkward questions that made me feel like a teenaged runaway who had forgotten that food costs money and things are further away than you think when you’re on foot.

“We’re still working that out,” I told her. “We’ll need your help to do it, though.”

That was a good button for her; her shoulders twitched straight and she eyed me sharply. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep an eye out for places we might be able to stash supplies, and things we might need. That sort of thing.”

“Are you gonna ask anyone else to come with us?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know anyone else I’d trust enough.”

She nodded slowly, folding the matter over in her head. “Should think about it. There’s others that might want to leave, too.”

“We have to be careful who we tell.” I put as much earnestness into the warning as I could; this is nothing to be casual about. I don’t think Jersey would purposely do anything to jeopardise us, but carelessness could kill. She agreed solemnly; she’s had enough brushes with the hard edges of Haven to inspire confidence in her sensibility about these things.

Tia has been cluttered up with her friends in the dorm, so I haven’t been able to talk to her yet. It’s hard to tell which way she’ll jump on this – it’s her new friends and security against the whoring she’s being asked to do. The deciding factor might be her brother’s wishes.

Now I’m wondering who else we should ask to come with us. I’m not close enough to anyone here to trust them with it, but the others might have made friends. What about the boys – have they asked non-Seekers? Have they made close friends over there? I don’t know how we’ll handle bringing strangers with us. Will they become one of us? Will they play by our rules? Or will they up and leave us once we get clear of Haven?

Of course, there’s Dad. I’ll ask him to come; I can’t leave him in this place. He’s different – he’s family. It’s the rest of Haven’s populace that feel like strangers.

Am I being selfish? It’s not like we can make an open offer. We have to do this in complete secrecy, so the fewer people who know about it, the better. It only takes the right words in the wrong ears and one open mouth for all of this to come crashing down around us.

I’m also not sure how I ended up in charge of this. I guess I’m the one who wants it, and the one everyone is used to turning to when we’re heading in a new direction. Somehow, I have to figure all this stuff out. I wish I felt qualified.

I feel like I should have watched more prison escape movies. Maybe I should steal a spoon the next time I’m in the mess hall and make a start on that tunnel.

I’ve been dreading and looking forward to the next time my dad came to see me. The last time we talked, I got upset with him because he refused to tell me the truth. When we part, we hugged in that stiff way that shows we don’t really want to but aren’t upset enough to break the tradition.

Since then, I learned that Dad didn’t refuse to tell me what was going on at all. He told me the truth but I didn’t hear him. I had been upset over nothing and made him feel bad. Guilt gnawed at my guts with tiny teeth over it.

Dad brought me dinner today. We’re settling into a pattern – he makes it over here every three days or so, and we spend time together while the rain has us trapped. Neither of us wants to push our luck with Haven’s powers that be, so we’re making do with this.

I took the tray from him and led the way into the office, where we could talk in relative privacy. I put the food down and turned around, my apology queued up behind my teeth, but he stopped me. He was busy fumbling around under his jacket and said that he had something for me. I have no idea how he managed to hide it under his coat like that.

It was a car battery. Freshly charged, just come off the generator loop. He knew why I was being followed around by Jonah – the power leeching – and he guessed that I was trying to keep my laptop charged up.

“Probably getting low again by now,” he said. He wasn’t wrong; I’ve been trying not to worry about it lately. “This is safer, for everyone. No more plugging in, hm?”

I didn’t know what to say. Everything I had prepared garbled in my throat and it was all I could do to throw my arms around his neck. I said thank you and sorry and I love you, over and over in varying patterns. My chest felt like it would burst and I barely managed to stave off tears. I think that was better for both of us. He stopped me finally by patting my back and telling me it was all right, solid as a rock.

There was peace between us again and a part of me relaxed. It’s like that with Dad: we don’t always need to talk about what was really bothering us. We move on without raking the unpleasant stuff up.

I was still nervous when I told him about what Matt and I had decided. He stared at me and asked if I was sure that it was what I wanted.

“There has to be somewhere better than this,” I said. “We came here looking for security and a future. We’re still looking.”

He fell quiet, chewing on his meal. I gave him space to think about it and quickly got lost in all of the things we need to do. I had almost forgotten he was there until he touched my wrist to make me look up.

“What do you need to do it?”

At times like this, I think I have the best dad in the whole world. He wasn’t happy about it – he had the two little creases between his eyebrows that he gets when he’s thinking about something he doesn’t like, and sometimes his jaw muscle twitched. But he was offering to help anyway.

I was grateful for the opportunity to talk about it with someone, to go through all the issues that had been buzzing around in my head and try to make sense of it. I was still groping for what was possible and what would get us into trouble. Between the two of us, we managed to work out most of the questions and a couple of the answers. It didn’t matter that we didn’t answer everything; at least I had a better idea about what we needed to sort out.

Like weapons. I hadn’t even thought about weapons. The notion of trying to steal guns and ammunition terrifies me – I don’t want to give the cutouts any more excuses to shoot us than they already have. There’s no way we could stand up against them in a fight and win anyway. But at the same time, we’d be crazy not to arm ourselves somehow, if not against other people, then to protect ourselves from the shamblers.

And sabotage. That hadn’t occurred to me, either. I was worried about being followed and missed the step where we could delay pursuit by making sure their vehicles didn’t work.

A little part of my brain plugged those two factors together into a solution that turns my stomach. I don’t think I can live with crippling Haven so we can get away. Is it foolish to want to tie their shoelaces together long enough to get clear, rather than cutting off their feet so they’ll never be able to chase us? I know which one would be safer for us.

I don’t hate them. I don’t want to hurt them. I just don’t want to be here any more.

We have options. We have Dad and Thorpe working in the garages, with access to vehicles and tools. It doesn’t have to come to explosives and a bloody mess in our rear-view mirrors.

I was still worrying about it all when Dad left. He smiled and kissed my forehead, and said, “Don’t worry, Faithy. We’ll work it out.”

That was what I needed to hear. I feel lighter now, as if we might actually be able to do this. Unlike most of the time After, this is going to take more than sheer determination, but we can make it work. Without blowing everything up.

Matt came to the infirmary again today. This time, there were no attempts to avoid me – quite the opposite. Simon was puzzled about why Matt had come for a checkup until he saw us smiling at each other. Then the medic rolled his eyes and said we were crazy.

It felt a little crazy. I haven’t felt this excited to see someone in a long time. Just meeting his gaze makes me all giddy inside, and when he puts his arms around me… well. It’s the only place I want to be. I’m not afraid any more, of anything. It helps that he found some protection for us, so we can do whatever we want to do. And we did.

Peter’s timing is impeccable. He walked in on us and just stood there, staring, while I tried to cover up. Matt asked him to come back later and the nurse said something cutting about not wanting leftovers. The door slammed behind him when he left and my heart was beating all out of time. Then I looked at Matt and we started laughing, and kisses made me forget all about it.

Matt didn’t just come to expose himself to the medical staff, or me. He also came so we could compare notes on our escape endeavour.

He has been talking with the boys, seeing who wants to leave Haven with us. Thorpe and Dale will definitely join us (I believe Thorpe said something along the lines of ‘about time’). Dan is, as always, quiet and ambivalent; it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling at any given moment, but he has said that he’ll help. Terry is torn – after the Shark incident, he has been making friends and a place for himself here by being an obnoxious voice. He also wants to know what his sister wants.

I couldn’t give him that answer. The only one I had been able to speak to was Jersey. I felt lame, able to offer so little, but at least I had the things I had worked out with Dad to share. Between us, we might actually be getting organised.

The current plan is for the boys to look into the vehicular arrangements, both for us and to cripple pursuit. I’m going to get the girls to help me look into the food situation and how we can get some supplies. Weapons and any other equipment we’ll tackle later, if we can. Medical supplies are easy; I have access to anything I think I need here.

I don’t dare hope that it’ll all be that easy, but it’s not like the cutouts will be expecting us to be running out of here. Fingers crossed, their ignorance will last long enough for us to make this work.

I returned to the dorms tonight with my head full of possibilities and a body yearning for rest. Before I could get settled, I was greeted by Nadine and Mama Prusco, two of the trio who accosted me a few days ago about entertaining the men.

Nadine was positively nasty while Mama Prusco took the motherly route to explain to me that things work a certain way and everyone has to bear the same burdens. I told them that I wasn’t interested but they weren’t so ready to accept that answer this time.

They know about Matt and me. They know we’ve slept together (I have no idea how; rumours move strangely around Haven). They were angry; it wasn’t up to us to pick and choose who we were with, they said. If I was to sleep with anyone, it was with whomever they gave me.

That’s when I got furious with them. Who the hell were they to tell me that? I work hard, I nurse the sick and injured. I stay up with them all night if I have to. I help make sure there are supplies for us to treat people with. That’s what I give to Haven, and that’s all I’m going to give. They might spread my name in the male barracks and make everyone think I’m screwing the whole army, but that doesn’t make it any more likely to become true. (From the looks on their faces, they knew exactly what I was talking about; they had done it on purpose to get at me.)

I said I’d only agree to one deal: I’ll keep a handful of the guys happy enough that they won’t come to the nightly entertainment, making fewer men for the other women to worry about. There’s four I can guarantee won’t take part – Matt, Thorpe, Dale, and Dad – and a couple more I’m not sure about. I didn’t tell them that one of the number is my own father and two of them are together. Nadine and Mama Prusco don’t need to know that I’m only actually sleeping with one of them, and that I’ll only ever sleep with one of them.

I walked away while the two women absorbed that idea. Damn them, anyway.

I hadn’t been prepared for a fight and it was difficult to settle down afterwards. I had to wait until the dorm was quiet enough before I could slip out so I could write this post, and the time seemed to stretch interminably. I lay on my bunk and pretended to sleep, wishing that I could close my ears against the chatter around me.

One voice grew louder than the rest and I looked up to see Iona standing over me. She has worried the ends of her hair to shreds with the way her fingers pluck and stroke at it, and the hems of her clothes haven’t fared much better. She stood at the side of my bunk and swayed from foot to foot, watching me with unusual directness.

“You’ll find the glass,” she said. I had no idea what she was talking about and I could feel the blank expression settling into my features as she went on. “Fields and fields of it, growing. Growing.” She was quite intent about that. “Makes such beautiful flowers. Mustn’t break it. It’ll shatter. Don’t break.” She crouched suddenly and touched my arm, adding the gesture to her pleas.

“I won’t break it,” I told her, patting her fingers. Still not a clue in the world but it seemed kinder to play along. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you,” she said, three times. Her smile was a relief. “You too.”

She wavered away then, tattered skirts whispering around her legs. She bounced away from a group of girls and took the long route around to the far side of her bunk so that she could crawl up onto it.

When I closed my eyes, I could hear her murmuring to the ceiling, but I couldn’t make out the words.

I discovered another reason for Nadine and Mama Prusco to give me so much pressure to help them entertain the men. It walked into the infirmary on nervous feet this morning.

There were two of them, both girls in their late teens, sharing mutual support long enough to get inside. Then their courage deserted them and they fiddled there, not sure where else to go. I recognised them dimly from the dorm but had no idea what their names were. I saw Peter leering in their direction and took pity on them, going to intercept them. When I asked if they were okay, they looked at me like sheep who had wandered into the sheering shed and weren’t sure what all the buzzing was about.

They asked to see the doctor. I considered telling them that we didn’t have a fully-qualified doctor, but told them to wait in an exam room while I got Simon for them instead. They shuffled off, hugging their coats around themselves in a way that made me suspicious. I offered to stay when they were examined, but they declined; holding each other’s hands was enough.

When they came out, the pair was buoyed up on uncertain toes, clinging to each other’s arms. They were elated in that way that hadn’t sunk in and wound up with uncertain, stunned-fish smiles.

It wasn’t a surprise to hear that they were both pregnant. Their eyes were bright as they told me.

“We’re doing it, we’re really doing it,” one of them told me. She’s blonde and tiny, barely coming up to my shoulder. I think her name is Phoebe.

“We’re creating the future,” the other one said. Sandra or Sondra or Zanda or something, she’s got a round face and mud-coloured hair, and hands that always look raw.

They’re not wrong. This is the real future the world needs: new lives to replace all of those that have been lost. It’s one half of the reason why all the women should partake in the nightly entertainments – keeping the men happy – and peace in Haven – is the other half.

And they’re so happy about it. They’re a part of something bigger than themselves, contributing something that the men can’t. They’re a bright hope in this dark world. I found myself grinning and hugging them, congratulations falling off my tongue. They were positively squealing by the time they left the infirmary, returning to their teams brimful with the news.

They made me think about Sally, fat with pregnancy when we left her at the University. I wonder if the Sickness has taken her yet – it should have by now, if Kostoya was right about the incubation period. And what of her baby? Did the acid’s poison take it too? I wish I knew how they were, even sour Dr Masterson.

Across the room, Debbie was coughing. Each hack of the lungs pulled at me, such a loud sound torn out of a tiny body. The bombs were still stealing lives, the fallout still stripping us down one by one. Every tiny life was precious, and this one was dissolving into tears because she couldn’t stop coughing.

Guilt curdled in my belly as I went to soothe the little one. I stroked her hair and she struggled out from under her blanket so she could crawl into my lap. I hugged her and rocked her, feeling the heat burning out through her thin nightdress. I stayed with her for the rest of the day, until she was finally exhausted enough to sleep and then a little while longer.

It’s my penance.

I finally managed to catch up with Tia today. She’s usually up and gone with the bulk of the female population, but this morning she dithered long enough for the dorm to empty out and leave her behind. Jonah was late, so I wasn’t dragged off either.

She listened to my proposition with solemn eyes, giving little away. I knew that she was weighing things in her head – all the benefits and security of Haven against the freedom of the Seekers. Freedom from many things.

“Can Jaye come?” she asked. I had to ask who that was, afraid she wanted to bring one of her new friends with her. They all believe in Haven – pregnant Phoebe is one of them, and they’re even more bright-eyed with the hope of it all now. But no, Jaye was the girl that Jersey got beat up over, the one that was abused and almost raped. I haven’t seen anything of her – she certainly didn’t bring her bruises to the infirmary – and apparently she keeps to herself now. I don’t blame her.

I had no idea that Tia even spoke to her. I only ever see the young Seeker with her gaggle of friends, or desperately trying to be with the gaggle.

“We’ll see,” I told her. I felt like someone’s parent – it’s the sort of thing my dad would say. Tia’s expression gathered into clouds, so I added, “We have to be careful, Tia. This has to stay secret. If she wants to come, I’d like her to, but… carefully, y’know?”

“We can trust her.”

“I hope so. I’ll talk to her, okay?”

Tia seemed satisfied with that. Then she asked a question that no-one else had thought to: “Where are we going?”

I was so startled that I just stared at her for a moment. It’s an obvious thing to ask but I hadn’t given it a single thought until then. I had been focussed on not being in Haven any more, getting out and away from the cutouts without getting anyone killed. We’d go back to the University initially – that was a given. We wanted to hook up with our old friends again and bring them news of what we found at the other end of the radio signal. From there… our options were open. Frighteningly open.

Tia frowned when I told her that. I could tell that she was thinking over the time before we reached Haven, how hard to was to find food and water, the threat of the shamblers dogging our heels. She wasn’t eager to risk all of that again, but she wasn’t saying no, either.

One of her gaggle of friends poked her head around the door to see where Tia had got to.

“Just think about it,” I told her. “And keep it to yourself. You have options, Tia.”

She nodded and hurried off. It didn’t occur to me until Jonah turned up that she hadn’t asked about her brother and if he wanted to come. I don’t know if she assumed he’d follow her lead or if she was too caught up in her own issues to include him. I don’t know when they saw each other last.

Figuring out who Jaye was wasn’t easy. I had to try to find a quiet voice among the rabble of chattering women that filled the dorm tonight. If I hadn’t been looking for her, I would never have noticed her when she slipped out. I caught sight of a scrap of auburn hair ducking through a back door and followed it.

She’s a tall girl, all long limbs that she tries to keep folded close to make herself look smaller. She has a scar cutting through one eyebrow and another marring the line of her lower lip, both fairly recent. She probably got them in the incident that got Jersey in so much trouble.

She assumed that I was going to ask her to join Mama Prusco’s group tonight, off to meet a contingent of men for entertainment. After I had told her my name, she believed me when I said I would never do that. Apparently, I’m a well-known troublemaker.

I didn’t ask Jaye if she wanted to leave Haven. There was something shifty in the way her eyes kept darting past me as we talked, as if she was looking for a way out or an excuse to leave. She kept pulling her sleeves down over her hands and hunching her shoulders, which made me wonder what she was hiding. Something about her posture reminded me of the girl I saw after the bombs went off, cutting stripes into her arm because she didn’t know how to deal with it all. I wasn’t sure how to handle that, then or now.

I tried to let Jaye know that she could come to me if she ever needed help or if she was hurt. I told her that I understood why she hid and I’d be there if she ever needed support against Mama Prusco’s pressure. She nodded and tugged at her cuffs, but I’m not sure that she believed me.

She’s far from happy here in Haven, but I don’t know if she’ll want to brave the world outside it with us. I don’t know her well enough yet. We have until the Seekers are ready to leave to sort it out.

I hope that’s enough time for all of us.