Anna was hanging on to Garrick so hard her arms were starting to ache. She was grateful when they stopped briefly to rearrange their backpacks on the rear of the bike and she took the opportunity to stretch out her creaking muscles. Minutes later they were off again, the speed of the bike chilling her thighs. At least her hands were warm, tucked under the bottom of Garrick’s armour, resting against his sculpted, flat belly, only a thin layer of cotton separating them. He’d clearly done this before and he drove the bike hard, swooping low to cut corners, dodging broken buildings and wrecked cars, never losing control.

Wind streamed through her hair, bringing a sense of freedom and space after the claustrophobic confines of the broken city. She rested her head against his back, enjoying the shift and flex of his muscles under her body, knowing that their time together was coming to an end.

Eventually, she dared spy over her shoulder. Garrick had taken country back roads, tracking the M3. The motorway occasionally loomed into sight, ridden with empty cars, a prime picking ground for scavengers. Further back, the Chittrix were tiny receding black dots on the horizon.

Garrick drove for another hour. The throttle of the engine soothed her, exhaustion chipping away at the edges of her consciousness. When they finally cruised into a built-up area, it took her a few minutes to comprehend that the landscape had changed, and they were no longer in open countryside. They sped through empty residential streets, whipping past houses sitting empty with bleak windows and front doors hanging off their hinges.

“Where are we?” Anna shouted over the revs of the engine, wiping loose hair from her mouth.

Garrick glanced over his shoulder.

“Nearly there,” he replied, dropping down a gear to a throatier rumble.

The bike slowed. Garrick was taking his time, inspecting the streets they were passing. The houses flicked past, changing from modern to box-like, seventies construction.

Anna recognised these less salubrious houses as Ministry of Defence quarters for service personnel. There were plenty of them in the extensive grounds of Magdon Down. She’d lived in one herself when she’d first accepted the job and needed temporary accommodation until she’d found her flat. She assumed they were for the army training-college that had been signposted a few streets back. There was nothing obvious to indicate they were nearing the entrance to an underground silo built by the British Government.

The Fireblade pulled up in front of a small, nondescript bungalow. White plastic framed windows and a red concrete tiled roof sat in front of them in unassuming quietness. Anna gave Garrick a questioning look as he kicked the foot-stand and climbed off the bike. He held out a hand to her and helped her off. Her legs were wobbly from the sustained ride. She stretched and turned to view the building, anxious to see what was inside. Had Julia or Blake made it out?

Garrick stepped in front of her, grabbing her elbows, stopping her from going any further. Without warning, he pulled her tight against his hard body, his mouth crushing hers in a hot, claiming kiss.

Anna struggled. This was the end. They were here now. But then she melted into him, frustration and lust enveloping her in equal quantities. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t erase him from her system.

He broke away first, his eyes dark with lust as he continued to shelter her with his chest and arms.

His voice was gruff against her neck, his breath teasing her nerves with possibilities. “I just want you to know where we stand before we go in. In case there’s any doubt.” His eyes searched hers, wanting answers. “You believe what you’re doing is right. But it’s not. It’s misguided, and I can show you.”

“Oh?” Her mouth thinned to a line.

“You’re trying to push me away.”

A wave of emotion overwhelmed her, threatening to pull her apart. She struggled to keep her voice level. He already knew her well.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.”

He grinned, white teeth bright in his muddy face. His arms slipped down to the small of her back, encompassing her. Protecting her. She wanted to just stay there in the safe circle of his body.

“I am sure of myself.” He winked, and she punched him lightly in the chest.

“Smart ass.”

“Seriously.” The tone of his voice shifted, his gunmetal-grey eyes serious and intent, never straying from her face. “I’m not giving up on you. No matter how hard you try to push me away.”

His lips grazed her temple. “I don’t give up on what I care about. We’ve had these crazy few days. I want more of you now. The chance to get to know you properly.” His fingers found her chin, tilting her face to his.

She stared back at him. The brutal honesty in his eyes made her skittish.

“Garrick. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t even know if I can.”

She pulled out of his grasp and walked a few steps away. She hefted her backpack up on her shoulders, keeping her back to him. He stood silent, not moving, his presence shadowing her.

“We should get inside. We need reinforcements, and then we need to head back to the hive. We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.

His sigh was barely audible, a whisper of frustration that scolded her, then he pulled his MP5 and pack from the bike and headed down the concrete block path to the bungalow’s faded red front door. He didn’t hesitate, simply turned the knob and walked inside.

Anna followed, her throat sore with emotion. She gave the street a final glance. It was silent as a stone, the only thing moving was a torn carrier bag, plastic tumbleweed swooping in the wind.

She entered through a small porch and expected to find a suburban hallway with ornate wallpaper and dado rails. But the similarity to a normal house stopped at the front door. Instead, she was in a large lightless room, empty save for an enormous red steel door set into the back wall. The paint was scuffed and dull, the plaster of the surrounding wall chipped and gouged. There was no handle, just a black panel set into the frame. The panel itself was the only part that appeared modern or vaguely functioning.

Exhausted and not quite believing the events of the last days, she reached out, placing her palm flat on the door. It was real. For a moment, she had thought it was just a mirage brought on by fatigue, but the metal was ice-cold under her fingertips, and brittle paint flaked under her touch and fell to the floor. It was a far cry from the sleek sophistication of Magdon Down. Her heart fluttered in her chest. This was it. The end of the line.

“Here?”

He nodded. His face was smudged, his hair dirty from the river, and there was a small scratch on his temple where blood had dried to a rusty crescent. She’d never seen anything more perfect in her life. She didn’t want to go inside the door or the intimate adventure they were on to end, despite the frequent near-death encounters.

“Here,” he replied. “There are bigger access points a bit further north for vehicles and such, but this is the closest foot access. Welcome to subterranean England.”

He regarded her intently, his eyes dark and unreadable. He’d turned her life upside down in the brief days of craziness they’d just experienced. But now it was over.

“It’s underground?” He’d mentioned it was in a bunker but she’d not given anything much thought in the last few days. Apart from trying not to die and him of course.

“Yes. Only reason it survived the invasion.” He arched an eyebrow at her as he reached past and flipped the protective lip on the opaque access panel. Green and red lights flickered underneath. He placed his fingertips on the smooth black surface. Something nearby hummed with a swell of power, and the door began to unlock in a series of thunks that reverberated through her bones.

There was no going back now.