When Garrick woke, he was wrapped around Anna. She nestled in the crook of his arm, her back pressed to his stomach. His hand rested on the curve of her hip, her hair gentle against his chin. He lay still, not wanting to spoil the moment, inhaling her spicy cinnamon scent and the gentle warmth of her. His life was toxic and she was the antidote.

She started suddenly, waking, her hands scrabbling for her weapon that was just beyond reach. He released her from his arms and sat up. When she turned to look at him, her face was still flushed with sleep, her hair in a dishevelled cascade. He wanted to push his hands into that cloud of hair and kiss her hard.

Instead he sat up and ran his hands through the dark fuzz on the top of his skull, pushing the image of her in his arms to the back of his mind. They needed to press on this morning, get the hell out of London and into the safety of the CB. There he could get some distance from her and the intoxicating way she was dominating his thoughts. It scared the shit out of him.

To distract himself, he stretched and picked up the remaining apple. They needed to get more food today, sustenance for the long walk ahead. He passed her the apple. “You need this more than me. I’ve had plenty recently.”

She gave him a shy smile, wiping the sleep from her eyes, and took the apple gratefully. “Thank-you.”

Garrick contented himself with wolfing down more nuts and two of the tasteless biscuits from Anna’s pack.

“Will we get there today? Your base?”

He shook his head. “No. I think it will be tomorrow before we arrive. There’s some pretty intense Chittrix activity en-route. The team may try and meet us halfway.”

“How can they find us?”

He pointed to the dense black strap on his wrist. “Tracker device,” he reminded her. “Even though we don’t have radio contact, they can track us from the base. They may try and pick us up. But we can’t assume they’ll be able to. We need to keep on moving, regardless.” He rubbed his black wristband thoughtfully. She needs this more than you.

He unstrapped the band and placed it around her wrist, pulling it snug.

Anna’s eyes were wide with questions, her face only inches from his.

“This way I can find you if you wander off.”

Her cheeks bloomed pink. She rotated her wrist. “Thank-you.”

He turned away from her, not wanting her to see his face. Already the thought of something happening to her made the breath catch in his throat.

He gestured to their meagre pile of belongings in an attempt to change the subject. “Let’s get packed up.”

* * *

They walked in silence most of the day, each lost in their thoughts. Garrick gave directions only when he needed to and didn’t push her. Despite frequent investigations of abandoned vehicles, functioning transport evaded them. The MP5 stayed looped around his chest, ready for any sign of Chittrix activity. Mercifully, the sky had been clear since they left the legal office, and the hum of alien activity was only a distant noise.

He was angry with himself. Yesterday was sloppy. Didn’t clear the other door. It wasn’t going to happen again. He didn’t save his brother, but he was damn well going to get Anna to safety in one piece. Her armour was a real breakthrough, and there was a brilliant mind inside that opinionated head of hers. I’m going to keep her safe.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. She was following closely. Less chatty since their run-in with the scavengers. And after? He still wasn’t sure what had happened in the small office when he’d cleaned her wounds, other than her presence obliterated his rational mind. When he’d held her, her scent had swept through his brain igniting desire deep within him. It was as if until now he’d been asleep, and she was leading him from the fog that shrouded his life. He’d wanted that kiss and deep down he wanted to kiss her again.

It was nearly noon and he was about to suggest they take a break when a long shadow passed over his head, cutting out the sunlight. He glanced up. A Chittrix circled lazily above, like a vulture assessing half-dead animals. Slowly it’s head tipped downwards, the facets of its compound eye glinting oily in the afternoon sun.

Garrick cupped Anna’s elbow with his hand, silently guiding her under the shelter of the nearest building, a modern construction of smooth, pale sandstone that jutted into the bright sky. She followed his line of vision and quickly fell in behind him. She was a fast learner.

They slipped into the recess of a double storm-door. Trying the handle on one of the substantial wooden doors, relief swamped Garrick as it swung open into the gloom of the building beyond. He didn’t know if the Chittrix had seen them, and to check or hesitate was to risk death. They slipped inside a dark, cold reception area. Chilled air penetrated the fabric of his cargo trousers.

“What is this place?” Anna asked as she followed him, her footsteps echoing in the vast, dusky space. A thin row of skylights, thirty feet above their heads, leaked feeble light onto the tiled floor below.

Garrick didn’t have time to answer. The Chittrix announced its presence, bellowing on the other side of the door. Acrid air rushed against them through the narrow doorway as it dived and howled on the other side, wings rasping.

He sprinted down the hall, pulling Anna after him. Their feet sounded loud on the ceramic floor, grit grinding under their steps. Garrick skidded once on the smooth tile, steadied himself and kept going.

Stone shattered and wood splintered in an ear-splitting cacophony behind them, as the Chittrix used its body as a battering ram. Doors whipped past them in a blur. Garrick didn’t stop; they had to get as far from the front entrance as possible. A lift sat silent and open, its doorway a dark void.

“Garrick!” Anna’s voice had a panicked edge, and he increased his grip on her hand. He charged the red fire-door at the end of the hall, his shoulder angled forward, his hip catching and depressing the push-bar that ran across the middle. The door slammed open under his brute force, plaster breaking free from the wall in grainy clouds as it ricocheted off the wall on the other side.

Shards of glass rained down into the space behind them, shattering as they hit the floor. The barrelling thump of the Chittrix continued relentlessly as it shifted position, now trying to force its way through a skylight.

It’s going to be through in seconds, not minutes.

The fire exit opened to a compact landing, which curved in a darkening spiral down to the basement. A tiny Plexiglas window, the size of a shoe box and set high above their heads, was the only source of light. Anna careened in after Garrick, her eyes wide.

He ignored the visible panic on her face. If he let that fear into his mind, it would all be over.

He took her face in his hands, her eyes huge between his palms. Her gaze jittered, trying to catch what was happening behind them.

“Look at me, Anna.” His voice was calm and modulated.

Slowly, she focused on him.

“It’s going to be ok. We’ve got this.”

Her eyes searched his for doubt, but he knew there was none. This was no different to previous situations. When he had been behind enemy lines in Afghanistan, the only option had been to go forward, to carve a path back home through the enemy.

She nodded with a tremulous smile. “Yes.”

He cupped her cheek in gentle reassurance. I’ve got your back, Spitfire.

Keeping hold of her hand, he bounded down the steps, two, and three at a time. Two flights down, the stairs ended in another cramped landing with a heavy steel door. Garrick already knew what was on the other side.

The door was unlocked and opened easily, the fluorescent lights, running on some unseen auxiliary power, clicking on automatically in a flickering sequence. He pulled Anna through the doorway, scanning the windowless space.

Anna stopped dead as she entered. She turned to face him, her eyes wild again as she took it all in. The space extended for sixty feet. A vast array of body-sized stainless steel drawers was set into the wall on their left. Concrete and steel dissecting tables rose to their right from a floor crisscrossed with drains.

Her face blanched with shock. “It’s a dead end.”