Page 127 of Crocodile Tears

As she chattered away happily, he realised she’d been cooped up in the back of a supply AV for weeks. Now that her difficult journey was coming to an end, she was feeling safer with every step.

“Does your uncle know you’re coming?” he asked.

“No, but he sent word months ago that there would always be a home for me with him. He’s my mother’s brother, and he knows what we had to do to survive. He left the UK a long time ago, and we didn’t hear from him for years. We thought he was dead. Do you have any relatives, Joe?”

“No,” he replied shortly. “Mum died when I was twelve, and Dad when I was fifteen.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your ideal life? What would make you happy? You must have thought about it.”

“Not really. How I live now is fine.”

“Being a soldier?”

“Being part of something, belonging somewhere, having something important to do.”

“Ah. I think you’re a secret romantic.” She grinned at him.

“And I think you’re soft in the head,” he said, throwing a twig at her.

They stopped the next night in a forest. Liz was tired but happy, and Josiah found he’d grown fond of her – she was like the talkative little sister he’d never had.

“I’ll keep first watch,” he volunteered as usual. “There shouldn’t be any scavs this close to Hanover, but keep your gun nearby, just in case.”

“It’s beside me.”

“Good.”

Two hours later he heard a faint sound, like a twig cracking. He raised his gun and placed his hand gently over Liz’s mouth to wake her.

“We have company,” he whispered into her ear. “Get your gun. And, Liz – don’t let them take you alive. If it looks bad, use it.”

“How will I know?” she asked shakily.

“You’ll know.”

They stood back to back behind a tree, guns raised, staring out into the forest. He could feel her trembling.

“I hope you don’t die because of me,” she said.

“If I do, it’ll be a fine way to go.”

And then all hell broke loose.

The scavs came running towards them. They were only armed with knives, but there were dozens of them. Josiah fired and some fell, but more took their place.

He threw his gun aside when it ran out of ammo, an old instinct sweeping through him. Liz had already been through so much, and there was no way anyone was going to lay a finger on her while he had breath in his body.

He screamed out his battle cry, and everything slowed down as his senses ramped up a gear. In this state he could see more clearly, hadmore time to react, and could savour the satisfying crunch of knuckles on flesh and bone.

He and Liz didn’t really stand a chance against this many – but he fought ferociously anyway, just as he had when he was protecting Peter. He heard her screaming, and he fought even harder, but the scavs were winning.

Feeling the battle rage consume him, he let out a berserker’s cry. He was lost in the zone now, all fists and fury. Scavs ran at him and fell, and ran again, and fell… yet still they kept on coming. He laughed. He never felt more alive than when he was in a fight, the more hopelessly one-sided the better. He shouted and roared as he fought, but he knew he was losing.

It was time. Time for Liz to use her gun on herself, and time for him to go down fighting, maybe with a knife stuck between his ribs.

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