be done about the cold and at least they were moving.
The buildings on either side were both empty and dark. Although Michael stared into them, he couldn’t see what lurked in the shadows. Each building held the potential for gangs to hide out in—gangs and monsters. He’d met enough of the latter to last a lifetime.
***
They left the main street the second they could and walked alongside the River Thames. The sound of flowing water put Michael on edge. It masked the noise of approaching predators. Michael jogged to catch up with Lola and fell into stride next to her. “Should we be walking here?”
Without looking at him and squinting as she scanned their surroundings, Lola shrugged. “Why not?”
“We’re a bit exposed.”
“True, but at least we’ll be able to see anyone coming for us. I don’t know about you, but walking down dark streets full of doorways, alleys, and empty buildings doesn’t make me feel very safe.”
It made sense. “I always travelled at night when I was on my own,” Michael said.
“Me too. We’ve already discussed this, right?”
“But I’ve always been scared of the dark. I still sleep with the light on at home.” He then added, “Or at least I did.”
“Even though you’re nearly eleven?”
“I know,” Michael said. “It’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s just… I dunno; I feel like there are things lurking in the dark.”
“Your mind loves to play tricks on you. You just need to learn to stop listening to it.”
“I used to pretend I was Batman so I wasn’t scared. Batman is a badass in the dark.”
Michael jumped at the sound of a heavy splash on the river.
“It’s just a fish, Batman,” Lola said.
Michael didn’t reply.
“And did it work?” Lola asked.
Still peering in the direction of the river, Michael scanned the bank on the other side. “Did what work?”
“You pretending to be Batman.”
“No.”
Lola gripped his shoulder. “Look, I think it’s okay that you’re scared. It’s good that you’re scared. There are bad men and women in the city, and you need to be ready to run away from every one of them.”
Another loud splash came from the river.
“It’s just another fish,” said Lola. “Anyway, like I said, it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be alert. One of the good things about the dark is it turns all of your other senses up to eleven—” giving him a playful punch on the arm, she laughed. “—or Nearly Eleven.”
A smile crept onto Michael’s lips. As much as he wanted to hate being called “Nearly Eleven,” she wasn’t mean about it. Not mean like the kids in his last school were mean; the kids who got Tilly alone in the playground. Instead of responding, Michael let the conversation drift away and listened to the flowing water.
***
The pair walked for about another ten minutes before Lola put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. The tip glowed in the darkness; it likely made them stand out from a mile away.
“I didn’t realize you smoked,” Michael said, keeping his voice low.
Lola put the packet back in her top pocket and laughed quietly. “That’s because I have to ration them. It’s the end of the fucking world as we know it, and smokes and booze have run out quicker than food. What kind of a fucked up life do we live where people take cigarettes and alcohol before they take food? Maybe the collapse of society is a good thing.”
A shudder ran through Michael as the crunch of the hammer that cracked his dad’s skull came back to him. He looked at the ground. “I don’t think it is…”
As they walked, Lola puffed on her cigarette, and Michael watched her. “Have you always smoked?”
“Since I was fourteen, I have.”
“Fourteen?”
“Jesus, Nearly Eleven, what are you, my fucking dad or something? I used to hang out with a lot of older guys. I managed to get a fake ID and school suddenly seemed much less interesting. I was in pubs and clubs at fifteen.”
“I’ve never even been in a pub. My nana and granddad took my dad to the pub all the time as a kid while they got drunk. They were alcoholics. He didn’t want Tilly and me to have that lifestyle.”
“Tilly?”
Just hearing her name spoken aloud choked him.
Lola took another drag on her cigarette and didn’t push him. Instead, she said, “I used to drive my mum insane with worry. Some weekends, I wouldn’t come home from school until Sunday night. I’d take a bag to school on a