Anna followed Garrick to the street outside. Darkness was almost upon them, the moon already out, a pale sliver high in the sky. It hung in the inky twilight, far away from all the madness.

The street was quiet and empty, but it wouldn’t remain so for long. She let Garrick lead her by the hand. He had floored two men on his own and kept her safe. No-one had ever defended her like that. She gave him a sideways glance as he walked down the street, his hand resting on the handle of his machete at his hip, ready and vigilant.

He pointed at her injured arm. “You okay?”

“It looks worse than it is,” she said.

Part of her still wanted to have some say in where they were going, but she let herself be led. What was the harm in letting him take care of her? Just for a little while. Till things are safer.

“We need to keep moving. Need to put enough distance between them and us. Can you run?”

She nodded, adrenalin still spiking through her system, numbing the pain in her arm and fuelling her legs. They cut through several blocks, moving swiftly back through houses and wild gardens. Anna kept up as well as she was able. Blood soaked her arm from her elbow to her cuffs, but the flow wasn’t getting any heavier. Garrick’s running was lithe and easy, like a big cat. He barely seemed to expend any energy. She thought he must be military: his movements were too efficient, too silent to be anything else.

After twenty minutes, they had left the manicured suburbs for dingy industrial warehouses. Tall, anonymous corrugated buildings with huge sliding steel doors surrounded them as they slowed to a walk. Signage boasted plumbing and electrical supplies and charitable used-furniture warehouses full of broken pine bookcases and sagging worn sofas. All the crap that everyone thought was important before.

Anna’s sleeve was now cold and wet with blood. The wound in her arm pounded in time with her steps, and fatigue slowed her muscles, but she kept walking, not wanting to be the one to ask to stop. I can do this, she chanted in her mind. I’m strong. Eventually, Garrick stopped and pulled her to him. He rolled her sleeve up to ascertain the extent of the damage. His touch was gentle and careful.

“We need to clean you up.” He assessed their surroundings. “There.” He pointed to a green-painted warehouse on the other side of the road. It had a small glass office inset into the rusted corrugated sheeting of the building. He let go of her hand and jogged over to press his face up against the filthy glass. Anna waited, glad to be still after all the running.

He gestured for her to join him.

She crossed the road and peered through the glass. Inside was untouched.

Thank God.

Garrick shook the door.

“Locked,” he said.

Without waiting for his reply, Anna took the butt of her pulse rifle and hammered it through the door, shattering the glass. She kept her eyes squeezed shut as she battered the remaining sharp edges of glass, then reached in and unlocked the door.

He raised his eyebrows. She couldn’t tell if he was disbelieving or impressed. Honestly, she didn’t care; it was just good to do something.

“Better now?” he asked.

“Yup,” she nodded and hitched her rifle out of the way.

Glass crunched under their feet as they entered the small office. The tiny space was rammed full with a desk and filing cabinets. Shelves filled all the available wall space, making it cramped and claustrophobic. Garrick pulled the blinds back a little. It was only a slight improvement.

Moonlight slanted across the floor in faded strips of silver light. Anna opened the door at the back of the office. She expected it to be a storeroom but was rewarded by a tiny bathroom with a cracked sink. The blistered black crust around the plughole convinced her to back out the room and shut the door.

He placed her backpack on the desk and yanked it open.

“Bingo.” He lifted out a small, green first-aid kit. How long ago had she packed it? A lifetime almost.

As soon as he flicked it open, she reached in and picked up one of the sealed dressings and began to fumble with it. The smooth cellophane resisted her best efforts. Her skin flushed with embarrassment. She threw the packet of dressing across the room in frustration. Can’t even stick a freaking bandage on my own arm. It bounced once, then landed in the dust.

“Finished?” His tone was businesslike but when she flashed him a glance, his face was open, no hidden agenda. “Sit down.”

Maybe he really just wants to help.

She sat down in one of the easy chairs next to the desk while Garrick took a canister of antiseptic spray out the kit and cleaned his hands.

“Are you always this obstinate?” he asked as he took her left arm in his hands. His touch was light against her inflamed skin.

“I don’t really do people helping me.” She swallowed. His breath was warm on her exposed forearm as he inspected the damage. A rebellious shiver ran down her spine. Her body was betraying her while her head was still trying to make reasoned arguments about unpredictable men. “It’s not my thing.”

“I see.” He knelt in front of her, his thighs bumping up against the inside of hers. His darkly-stubbled jaw was within her reach. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this close to a man. Even before the world went down the pan, she had kept them at arm’s length. Sex had been infrequent liaisons with men she wanted to avoid the morning after. A bit of fun and flirtation but no commitment. That way she never got hurt. It suited her just fine. No messy relationships to distract her or tear the world from under her feet.

“Someone or something must have really done a number on you, huh?” He studied her, but she avoided his gaze, not trusting herself to look at him, scared of what he’d see in her eyes.

He let it pass, and his head dipped again to concentrate on her wound. She watched, mesmerised at the smooth movement of the muscles in his neck as they flexed and shifted under his skin, hissing abruptly as he cleaned the torn flesh. Tears, hot and unwanted pressed at the back of her eyes. She swallowed loudly. Jeez.

“Sorry. I’m better as a soldier than a nurse.” His eyes filled with concern. “It’s not deep. The bullet just grazed you. They’re always the worst. Too many nerve endings.”

He rummaged in the first aid kit and sprayed her wound with antiseptic, then bound it firmly in a clean dressing. It gleamed starkly white against the grey grime of her shirt. Had it really only been hours since she had left Magdon Down? Her life there with all its hardships was now only a faint memory, and she realised that despite everything, she had been protected there from the worst that this new world had to offer.

“Thank you,” she managed. “And I’m sorry.” The words grated in her throat. She wasn’t accustomed to apologising.

“Sorry?”

“For struggling. For not trusting you. I freaked out. I thought you were trying to stop me…” She trailed off. I nearly got us both killed. The thought made her squirm. She prided herself on her no-nonsense attitude and practicality, all of which had gone out the window in a matter of moments. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “It won’t happen again.”

He nodded. A small smile played at the edges of his lips. “Maybe we can plan to stay alive a bit longer then.” His hand gently squeezed her thigh. She gasped at the flash of desire his touch shot to her core.

His hand jerked from her body. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” The words tumbled from her lips. Good Lord, what are you doing to me? His face was only inches from hers, his grey eyes holding her captive. It was a struggle to take a proper breath.

She was transfixed as he stretched forward and ran the pad of his thumb along her jaw. His warm fingers grazed her skin, sending an exquisite cascade down her spine. Her heart raced so painfully she was sure he must be able to hear it. He was solid, immovable, right in front of her. God, I want to just sink into him. The thought was so tempting, to just give herself over to him. To not have to fight and always be first.

He reached forward, his scent enveloping her as he leaned closer, oil and leather, and musky male. The muscles in her belly loosened, liquid with desire, and her arms relaxed in her lap. Should I stop him?

Finally, his lips touched hers, warm and fierce. He nipped her lower lip gently then his mouth found hers. He kissed her hard, and she found herself responding, pressing back, needing to touch him. His hand slipped round the back of her neck, caressing the smooth skin, arousing her with his fingertips. Feverish desire, unlocked, flowed into her limbs.

What am I doing? I don’t even know him.

Fear and arousal all bumped together in one intoxicating jumble.

She stood abruptly, knocking against him, severing the moment. Dizziness hovered on the edge of her vision as she took small, sharp breaths to regain her equilibrium. Calm down. This isn’t you, letting some man unravel you at a moment’s notice.

“Sorry. I…thanks for dressing my arm.”

He straightened slowly, rising to his full height. Steely eyes bored right into her being. “Sorry?”

She shook her head. Gave him a flustered smile. “Crazy times, these days, don’t you think? We all do things that are out of character. I mean, we don’t even know each other, right?” Embarrassment loosened her tongue. Shut up, Anna. Now he knows you’re a moron.

Stormy clouds of confusion clouded his grey eyes.

God, don’t look at me like that. With those eyes.

Garrick avoided her gaze, wiping dust from the window as he peered outside. “We can rest briefly, but then we need to push on. Those scavengers will come hunting for us.”

She nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “Yes.” I can cope with this. The day to day. Living. Surviving.

He ran a hand across the dark fuzz of his head, his jaw hardening. There was a darkness in his expression that had been hidden before now. Then he sighed, and the darkness was gone, his face calm and composed. Her fingers itched to reach out and run across his brow, to console him about whatever was causing him so much pain, but she kept her hands pressed to her side where they couldn’t betray her. She didn’t even know how to deal with her own issues. She wouldn’t be a comfort to him.

Yeah, you tell yourself that, Anna.