Anna’s lungs were just about bursting. Her side protested with every step she took, and her heart was almost breaking her rib cage.

“Stop,” she said. “I need to walk for a bit.” She bent over, taking short, heaving breaths, trying to find some equilibrium in her over-taxed body. Six months hanging about in the labs hasn’t done much for your physical fitness, Anna. Loose hair fell in her eyes. She glanced up. Garrick was silent and motionless beside her. A predator with endless patience. In comparison, her mind was a scary jumble. He seems so sure of himself, but can I trust him? It’s not like he’s forthcoming about what we’re doing.

She wasn’t used to relying on anyone else and being here with him, reliant on him like this, made her uncomfortable. She ran a hand across the small of her back, feeling the SIG holster. It gave her a small feeling of security that she was still able to take care of herself.

Standing up, her sides still heaving, she swiped hair from her forehead. It was sticky with exertion and the body armour wasn’t helping either. Anna studied her surroundings. They were far into a residential suburb she had never seen before. Dark windows regarded her on every side. Bins overflowing with rubbish filled the road. Disturbed rats scuttled from the refuse and past their feet.

She tried not to stare, but Garrick was barely out of breath, and they had been running for the last half-hour or so without a break. His broad chest moved smoothly and evenly despite the backpack on his shoulder, which contained the heavy remains of a radio he’d salvaged from the trashed vehicles. Don’t goggle Anna. She looked away, not wanting him to be aware of her scrutiny.

The men she’d worked with at Magdon Down were mostly nerds or mouthy, arrogant bastards who thought everyone should do as they say. They made it easy to focus on work and avoid any romantic attachment.

Garrick was neither.

He was an entirely different beast altogether, one she had never come across in all her thirty-two years. He spoke the bare minimum and moved with an easy athleticism. She’d never been so unnerved by a man and so aware of his presence. He’d flicked some switch within her that she’d never been aware of.

She ran a hand through her misbehaving hair, and then stopped. What am I doing? This was insane. Chittrix had just stormed her lab, and they were out in the open running for their lives. She didn’t have time for this. Her research. That’s what she was about. Using the armour to fight back at the Chittrix.

She started walking again, waiting for Garrick to explain where they were going. But he remained silent, his head scanning the sky and buildings as they walked. I give up.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He glanced round at her. “My team is based at the Command Base near Salisbury. It’s a safe bunker. There are other survivors.”

Anna contemplated this. “How do you know if we’re going the right way?”

He pointed at the stars. “We’re heading west. That’s good enough just now. We can worry about specifics later. I don’t want to stop yet.”

Irritation flickered through her at his vagueness. She tried to swallow the feeling in the best interests of getting along and staying alive.

Nope. Not going to work. “Well, I’m glad you’ve decided what you think is best and applied that for the benefit of both of us. I have an opinion too,” she said.

Garrick didn’t answer. He checked over his shoulder with an air of bemusement. Anna’s blood pressure skyrocketed. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. Who the hell does he think he is?

She cleared her throat. Let’s get this straight. He’d had a map earlier at the school. “Let me see your map.”

“We don’t need the map.”

“Well, I’m happy for you. I want the map.”

He stopped, turned, and faced her. He was so tall. What was he, six-two, six-three? He towered over her, his broad torso in her face. The rise and fall of his chest transfixed her.

“Are you really going to do this here?” he said in a tone of mild amusement.

She started, lost for a moment, her mind playing over the way he sounded and tempted her. Desire shimmered over her skin. “Do what?” she countered, trying to remain focused on something other than his physical presence. It wasn’t working; his masculinity kept derailing her thoughts.

“Start messing about who’s in charge?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you want to head out on your own, you’re more welcome. But if you stay with me, I say what goes.” He turned and walked away.

Indignation boiled furiously over her. “You … arrogant bastard,” she squawked, struggling to find the words to express herself. “Don’t speak to me like I’m stupid. I’m well aware of the dangers—”

Garrick stopped dead, head tilted for a split second. He turned without warning and was on her in an instant, warm hand across her mouth, halting her tirade.

“Quiet,” he breathed hot in her ear.

What the?

Anna struggled, trying to wrench his hand from her mouth.

He pulled her hands away, restraining her against his solid body. His machete dug uncomfortably into her backside.

“Mmmpf.” She tried to speak, but his hand was immoveable. She wasn’t going to be able to say anything until he let her. What is he playing at? Tormented memories of team members raped and left for dead on the street after failed reconnaissance missions flew through her mind. She dug back into his abdomen with her elbows. God, the man was made of rock.

He began to drag her backwards to the building behind them. Her heels scrabbled and caught on the road as she tried to resist him, her pulse spiking with fear. He hit a door without pausing, and before she knew what was happening, she was already in the front hall of a small, terraced house.

Wallpaper hung in strips from the ceiling where rain had soaked through gouges in the floor above. Thin warped lines of black mould ran in tendrils across the walls. Two doors were ajar, one just behind her, and another further down the hall that was half-open.

He spun her round and slammed her up against the wall, one arm pinned against her rib cage, pressing her into the spongy wallpaper while the other remained firm across her mouth. His face was inches from hers. Anger flashed in his eyes.

“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, but you are going to be completely quiet, and then we might stay alive. Do you understand?” His voice was low and full of threat, barely more than a whisper.

She nodded but wasn’t listening. Her mind was already running down a rabbit warren of panic. Let me go.

He released the pressure on her mouth, the imprint of his fingers still warm on her cheek. At last, he lifted his forearm from her chest and raised his finger.

Anna didn’t wait to find out what he was signalling. She lifted her knee fast, connecting with his groin as forcefully as possible. A soft grunt escaped his lips, and he doubled forward, releasing her. Pushing him away, she ran down the hall, hurtling towards the half-open door, blood roaring in her ears. She yanked it fully open into a room with two small easy-chairs and a decrepit rug on the floor. A dirty window at the back framed an overgrown thicket of garden.

He hit her from behind, the full force of his body knocking her to the floor, smacking the air out of her lungs and flattening her with his weight. He was unyielding against her back and thighs and heavy as hell.

“Get. Off. Me.”

I can still move my legs.

She kicked backwards, frantic with fear, then froze.

A male voice, and not Garrick. Outside. Weedy and nasal but definitely male. “I’m telling you, man, I heard something.”

Scavengers. Bands of men willing to take what they wanted, when they wanted. Scavenging for food. Weapons. And women, the new commodity.

Softer, indistinct grumblings. Another, heavier, male voice. The clicking and ratcheting of weapons being reloaded. Shadows slipped across the wall as figures passed outside the open window.

“You’re imagining it. I heard nothing.”

The nasal voice again. “It was a fucking woman, I’m telling you. She’ll be hiding after all the noise you made getting over here.”

The deeper-voiced man grunted in reply as they passed the window. Light flooded back into the room, illuminating the grimy carpet. A money spider strolled past Anna’s face, oblivious. Gritty footsteps scraped on the concrete outside. It was impossible to tell if they were leaving.

Garrick shifted his weight slightly, sliding off onto the floor beside her. The weight and heat of him pressing against her body was gone and a chill raced up her spine. He remained flat beside her, turning his face and catching her eye, a furrow knotting his brow.

Shit. Heat reddened her cheeks. He must think I’m an idiot. No, I am an idiot. She closed her eyes in humiliation, but when she opened them he was still there and he hadn’t left her. His scent of sweat and leather invaded her mind. The wind had faded outside, and everything in the night was still. Blood rushed in her ears, and her stomach rumbled. She waited for Garrick to indicate it was safe to move.

After an eternity of lying on the hairy carpet with dust clogging her nose, he finally raised himself into a crouch and indicated for her to do the same. She got up on her hands and knees and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Thick black dust smeared her skin and stuck to her clothes. Garrick stood up and pulled her to her feet. He placed a finger against her lips to silence any choice words she had to say.

He began to back out the room and into the hall, away from where the voices had originated. Once in the hall, he motioned for her to stay near. She followed closely, her feet bumping up against his. She wasn’t going to be stupid twice.

He halted in the porch between the inner door and the main outside door, scanning the street in front of them.

Then the cold, hard nose of a gun bumped against the back of her head.

The nasal voice spoke. “Hello, pretty lady.”