Page 6

She glanced my way, then focused on my phone, tapping away at the screen.

“Anything?” Kirby asked.

Ava huffed. “Nothing’s loading. It was like this back at the airport.”

I passed through a cross intersection, leaning forward and paying attention to every movement. No one gave a shit about road rules anymore.

“Can we pull over at some point?” Kirby asked. “Not now, just… when we can. I need five minutes to walk a bit where nothing’s trying to kill us.”

Not somewhere safe. Just somewhere less dangerous.

“Let me get out from under the flight path first,” I said. “We don’t know how many more planes are about to fall.”

They both went quiet as if the thought hadn’t occurred to them.

I offered to stop a few times if it looked quiet enough to avoid trouble, but all Kirby said was, “Not yet.”

When we rolled into Marcus Heights, the high rises and factories were replaced by greenery and space. The roads had widened, and houses were set back farther from the street. Towering gums stood outside each home like sentries, their branches bowing in the wind.

I cruised through the town centre, passing a closed supermarket, a yoga studio, and a post office. Litter floated along the footpath, and a magpie picked at something in the gutter. No one was out, living or dead, and for a second I almost convinced myself the mutation hadn’t spread this far yet.

But then Ava pointed out a young woman tripping over her own feet, her eyes dead and vacant. Blood had drenched her dark hair and soaked into her jacket. She lifted her head as we drove by, tripping on the curb and stumbling straight onto the road.

The tension in the car thickened as we left her behind.

When we passed a sign for an upcoming playground a couple of minutes later, I flicked the indicator out of habit.

There were no dead in the immediate vicinity, and the smoke and screams were far behind us. The stop wasn’t just for Kirby anymore. I needed to get out myself.

“Bathroom break if you need it,” I said. “Keep an eye out for dead people.”

“Infected,” Kirby said.

I met her eyes in the mirror, and she gave me a pointed look.

“Fair enough.” The word made no difference to me.

I pulled over at the empty playground, leaving the engine running beside a brick toilet block.

Ava unclipped her seatbelt and jumped out as if she couldn’t stand being contained for another second. She stayed close, staring at me through the open door. “Don’t take off without me.”

Wind whipped through the eucalyptus trees, and a curl of bark peeled free, landing on the bonnet before sliding off.

I shifted sideways and draped my arm over the wheel. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you don’t know me.”

Kirby stepped outside with more caution, her eyes sweeping over the playground, the trees, the road we’d just travelled down. “Don’t ditch me either.”

Jesus Christ. I released a harsh breath through my nose, irritation flickering through me before I shut it down. Two women alone with a man they’d just met should have been cautious—especially when I was in control of their only means of transport.

“I’m not leaving anyone,” I said. “Believe it or not, I don’t want to be on my own either.”

Ava held my gaze, the morning sun catching the lighter streaks in her brown hair. In baggy jeans and scuffed sneakers, she’d dressed for practicality and comfort. Running.

“I’m trusting you,” she said.

“I’m aware.” There was no point in telling her I wouldn’t let her down. Neither of them knew me.