Skylight (Arcadium, #2) by Sarah Gray Page A

other off. There’s always a
limit, and sooner or later we’ll find it.
    I furrow my
brow and open my eyes. “I think if you take the next right after
Warrigal, that’s Poath Road. It’s definitely got boom gates, but we
avoided it originally because it’s one lane each way. Same with the
next road along. We didn’t know if they’d be completely
blocked.”
    Jacob doesn’t
look concerned. “Either one. We’ve still got legs.”
    Kean arches an
eyebrow. “Yeah, for the moment we do, but if we run into one of
those roving hordes we won’t.”
    “So negative,”
Jacob says. His voice is always so… I don’t know. Unstrained. He
sounds like someone might if they were driving around in normal
times. Casual. Cool. On a milk and bread run. There’s something not
right about it. Even Trouble gets unnerved every now and then. But
not Jacob. You’ve got to wonder what makes a man like that.
    “Florence?”
Jacob is staring at me. “You going to give me that direction
anytime soon?”
    “I’m not
sure.”
    “Choose.”
    I blink. “Local
knowledge is not the same as fortune telling.” I pause, visualising
each crossing and trying to think of their layouts. “Stop at the
end of Poath Road, I guess, and we’ll have a look and decide from
there,” I say. “Thing is they’re both in pretty built up shopping
areas.”
    Jacob stops the
car and we all peer down the road. It’s clear enough, but still a
risk if we get cornered. Though I suppose we could always wait it
out in the car like we did before. That’s the beauty of tinted
windows.
    “Yep, take this
one,” I say with as much confidence as I can muster. I’m not sure
if I do that for Kean’s sake or my own.
    Jacob points
Trouble in the right direction, and Trouble keeps a slow steady
pace. It’s not the easiest drive in the world, twisting and turning
and rolling around parked obstacles. Sometimes he has to reverse
and try the other side when there’s not quite enough room to
squeeze through. A couple of times I think Trouble could make the
gap but Jacob directs him somewhere else, like he’s trying to save
the paintwork of his fancy four-wheel drive or something. Which is
stupid, but that’s people for you. They get all precious about all
kinds of useless things when the world collapses.
    We get closer
and closer, no faster than riding a bike, and sometimes just
walking pace, but I’d sure as hell rather be inside the car than
out. This place is a ghost town. Rubbish collects along shop faces,
and skips across bloodstained pavements. All the glass is broken,
displays are scattered or looted. Dry paint peels from window
frames. Weeds claw their way across the washed out concrete.
Windows are hollow and dark like open mouths just waiting to eat
anyone that enters.
    Trouble
smoothes on the brakes and we stop maybe twenty metres from the
train tracks. We’re blocked out by a colourful wall of abandoned
cars. The white and red painted boom gates are stuck shut, but
thankfully they only cover the incoming lane on each side, so we
can still get through.
    “Tell me we’re
not walking from here,” I say. “Infected could be hiding anywhere
and we won’t know until they’re on us.”
    “No, but
someone needs to push those cars out of the way so we can get on
the tracks.” Jacob looks over his shoulder and stares straight at
me.
    “Why don’t you
do it?” I ask.
    Jacob pulls out
one of his demonic looking handguns, so out of place in close
quarters that it makes us all reel away. It’s different from the
one I tried to fire. It’s sharper, larger, deadlier. Kean leans
across me, like a shield, as Jacob does something to the black
chunk of metal and makes it click. From everything the movies has
taught me, I guess that means it’s loaded and ready to steal some
lives.
    Jacob glances
across the three of us. Trouble has his hands up in surrender, Kean
is trying to protect me, and I just stare with too-wide eyes,
unable to look anywhere