Adam laughed. ‘A bit like the Titanic, really; assuring the second, third and steerage class passengers that all’s well, meanwhile organising a life raft for himself and his thugs.’
She recalled Dizz-ee’s grin again. Shit, man, reckon we’ll all have a go at her.
‘Leona, where’s home? Where did you come from?’
Her eyes narrowed and she looked away.
‘Look, I’m not spying. I’m not one of them. I’m too old.’ He gestured at the two praetorians standing nearby, overseeing the long queues of workers, bowls in hand, waiting to be served from a steaming urn. ‘Maxwell trusts only the young ones. He only recruits young lads because he knows exactly how to control them. That’s how this whole fucking prison camp works. Those boys are being kept well fed, the rest of us he’s gradually starving to death. Look at me.’
Adam pinched the back of one of his hands. The skin bunched like parchment, then slowly settled back. ‘I really can’t fake that. I’m starving, just like everyone else here. Another year, maybe two . . . all the workers are going to be dead. And those boys, and Maxwell, will be having a big party at your place.’
Shit, man, reckon we’ll all have a go at her.
‘Norfolk,’ she said. ‘We came . . . we came down from Norfolk.’
Adam stopped, smiled. ‘Seriously?’
‘What’s funny?’
He shook his head. ‘Not funny, just . . . just a coincidence. I used to be based in Suffolk, at least my regiment was. Up in Honington. You know it?’
She shook her head.
‘Royal Air Force regiment,’ he replied. ‘Back when the crash happened we were assigned to this safety zone to guard it.’
Adam began talking about his old life, a tour in Afghanistan, but her mind was filled with a nightmare; she saw hordes of orcs raping and pillaging The Shire. She saw young boys glistening with bling in their neon-orange jackets in a tightly packed, cheering crowd, like boys around a schoolyard fight; each of them taking their turn on her mother, then Dr Gupta, then Martha . . . and all of them with Dizz-ee’s leering, grinning face.
‘Adam . . .’
He stopped talking.
‘Can I . . . I . . . trust you?’
He stared at her silently for a moment. ‘Can we trust each other?’
‘I . . . have to leave. I have to . . . warn my mum. Those boys . . . I think they know where we came from.’
Chapter 62
10 years AC
‘LeMan 49/25a’ - ClarenCo Gas Rig Complex, North Sea
‘Please, Walter, please tell me you didn’t do it,’ said Jenny.
The old man was huddled on the floor of the paint storeroom. The only light came from a small wire-grilled porthole at the top of one of the walls. One of the panels of glass had cracked and wind whistled through the gaps between shards and wire, playing a bitter melody for them both.
‘Walter?’
She crouched down beside him. The wrinkled folds around his eyes matched the colour of his florid cheeks and his raspberry nose.
‘I didn’t do it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t take Natasha.’ He looked up at her, his face wet with tears. ‘And I never hurt Hannah. I swear I—’
‘What about her shoe?’ she asked firmly. Her voice hard and accusing. ‘How did it end up on your boat?’
He shook his head desperately. ‘I . . . I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
She studied him a while longer. Looking into his face she could see the poor old man wasn’t lying to her. Guile was something he completely fell flat on. Being utterly unable to say what was untruthful in situations where it might be appropriate or even diplomatic was one of the reasons he’d never been the most popular member of the community. Walter couldn’t lie to save his life. He could do many things, but bullshit wasn’t one of them. She put a finger to her lips to hush him. ‘I believe you,’ she said softly.
I just needed to look into your eyes as you said it.
The old man let out a strangled sob, his shoulders sagging with the release. ‘I’d do anything to protect her . . . to protect you.’
She placed an arm around his wide frame and hugged him gently as his body shuddered with tears. She knew he was innocent.
The tears finally subsided and she let him go, settling on the floor beside him, leaning her back against the storeroom’s cool wall. Outside the door, she could hear Howard shuffling on the stool in the