There’s No Place Like Home - Michael Robertson Page 0,2

Michael jump. Seconds later, the engine revved, and the truck pulled away.

Alone and surrounded by darkness, Michael listened to the night. When a fox screamed, he pulled himself into a tighter ball. No matter how many times he heard the chilling sound, he’d never get used to it. It reminded him of a woman being tortured; although foxes seemed to have a better life than most other living creatures now. London had been turned into a place for scavengers—scavengers and abusers.

***

Michael sat on the grass long enough for the frost to melt and soak through his clothes, turning his skin to ice. The sting of pee had left his legs, but he shivered harder now than before.

The cold had wormed into Michael’s joints, sending deep aches into his fingers and knees. If he didn’t get up soon, the sub-zero atmosphere would encase him in its rusty grip.

Even craning his neck hurt, but Michael did it anyway as he looked at the dark exit from the park. Had George really left some food? He certainly got something from his truck and bent down to put it on the ground.

He had to move. If he stayed there much longer, he’d be a frozen corpse by morning. He could go farther into the park and see where he ended up. A shiver snapped through him when he looked behind into the darkness. The utter absence of light pushed against his eyeballs as if trying to take even the concept of visibility from them.

If he went back to the road, he could be a few streets away in no time. No one would find him then; London was a big place. Besides, there might be some food out there.

Michael got to his feet and stretched the aches from his tired body, his bones popping as he reached to the sky.

Despite the combination of tiredness and the fierce wind stinging his eyes, Michael kept them open as he walked. If he blinked, he might miss something. If he missed something, he could be back in the warehouse before he knew it.

Surrounded by shadows, and with the moon too dark to reveal the details of each shrouded form, Michael continued scanning around in case any of them moved. As he walked, the long grass brushed against his legs. It felt like slim fingers grabbing at his ankles.

***

When he got to the edge of the park, Michael looked down at the packet of unopened cookies. A loud gurgle rolled through his stomach, and his mouth watered. He could almost taste the sugar on his tongue.

He heard the footsteps too late. Before he had time to look up, someone crashed into his side, the sting of the impact exploding through his right shoulder.

The cookies slipped from Michael’s hand as he fell. Pain shot through his left side when he landed on the ground, and the weight of the person who’d run into him fell hard on top of him.

Michael’s world went dark.

Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo Lola

A diet of sugar and fizzy pop had left Michael with a permanent headache. It was at its worst when he woke. When he opened one of his eyes, a sharp pain stung his eyeball like he had a metal spike wedged into it.

The first signs of morning lightened the dark sky. Disorientated and freezing, Michael stared up and tried to find his bearings.

When he looked to his right, he saw a girl standing next to him. His entire body snapped tight. Suddenly, the night before came flooding back—the truck, the cookies, the person crashing into him…

Weeks had passed since he’d last seen a girl. Julius didn’t have any at the warehouse. She looked about eighteen years old, but she had her back to him so he couldn’t be sure. A long, brown ponytail rested between her shoulder blades, and she seemed anxious as she watched the road. If he got up now, could he get away from her?

The pain of keeping both eyes open was too much, so Michael closed one. It eased his headache but his heart beat a staccato as he looked up at the tall girl.

The girl brushed her hair back from her forehead and held it there. She turned far enough around for Michael to see her side profile. She was chewing the inside of her mouth.

When she turned to face him, Michael snapped his eyes shut. He pressed them closed so tightly, it had to be obvious he wasn’t still passed out.

The coldness of the ground gripped him and he