My stomach rumbles loudly. I skipped breakfast to avoid an interrogation from my parents, and to ensure I could get to the woods and meet Zach one last time before they go ballistic and I'm never allowed out of their sight again.

Last night after dinner, I sat with my brother on his porch then went to The Rec to avoid any further questioning from my parents. My appearance at The Rec had been awkward. Axel's still flirting with Brielle or the Naturalist version of it anyway. Suki had commented to me quietly that she had always thought Axel wanted to settle with me, and I'd snapped I would never settle with Axel. Never. Taken aback by my anger she quickly changed the subject but the rest of our conversation was forced.

The mere mention of Axel's name causes a surge of anger to engulf me. My hatred is magnified when I have to be in the same room as him. I'll never forgive him for the position he tried to put me in, for his willingness to forcibly take away what was mine to offer.

After The Rec, I'd sneaked into my room and feigned sleep when my parents checked on me.

I'm a coward of a daughter.

Actually, I'm a lying coward of a daughter because I'm not even in the woods. I've crossed the wall. Again.

'I thought we weren't going back to the Town,' I say quietly as we walk towards the mass of buildings.

'We need bicycles to get there, so we'll quickly grab two then leave,' Zach responds. His pace is so fast I'm having to jog to keep up.

'What's the rush?' I say, not even bothering to ask him where 'there' is. He's determined on keeping it a secret and I quite like not knowing. Surprises are hard to come by, enjoyable ones anyway.

'I want us to have enough time when we get there,' He says with a flash of a smile. He moves slightly closer, and I slowly move a little further away.

Jenna's warning is still ringing in my ears from the beginning of the week as a cautious reminder to distance myself, physically and emotionally. I'm reverting back to my old self, ensuring I keep my distance, but it's harder than I thought. My ease around Zach makes me careless. I keep forgetting the boundaries I'm used to enforcing.

'By the way, my test results came back. No Virulence. I'm clean,' Zach says.

'Good, but you're definitely not clean. You might want them to check their tests are working correctly.' I smirk but I'm secretly relieved.

'Very funny.' Zach grins.

We pass the welcome sign and as the houses come into view all the air escapes my lungs in a rush, and my chest constricts tightly making it difficult to breathe. The stench of decaying corpses and death returns. It's all in my mind, but the knowledge doesn't make it fade as nausea washes over me.

'Are you ok, Kit?' Zach's voice sounds muffled against the throbbing sound inside my head.

I nod and inhale deeply.

Zach stops and looks at me. 'Do you want to wait here for me?'

'No,' I say weakly, continuing to walk because I'm even more scared of being left alone.

We continue until we reach the first row of houses. Zach walks up to a house and peers into a small room attached to the side while I stand in the middle of the road. The same road we had walked along a week ago but now the scene is more disturbing. Everything reminds me of the piles of decaying people, people who once occupied these houses and walked the now crumbling and cracked streets. Everyone who lived here is gone, wiped out within two years by Virulence.

A whole world obliterated by a pandemic which could not be treated. If an outbreak of Virulence occurred in my settlement there'd be no hope, everyone would be eradicated within months. Luckily Zach is clean, and if he's clean I'm clean. Hopefully.

Zach moves onto a neighbouring house and lifts a half-open metal shutter exposing the abandoned contents inside. He rummages through piles of items, looking behind boxes and abandoned junk. I walk towards him, trying to imagine what this street would have looked like before the outbreak: children playing, newspapers being delivered, neighbours talking. Daily activities I've read about in books set in this past world.

'Kit, a little help please,' Zach grunts, pulling at something.

A tall pile of boxes starts to lean sideways, threatening to topple on top of him. Running over, I push the boxes back while he eases out a faded gold bike.

'For you.' Zach angles it towards me, proud of his find.

I stare at the bike; it's gold paint flaking off in patches but the rest shimmers in the light. There's a rack on the back and I wonder who the owner used to be.

Which corpse trapped in the school gymnasium did it belong to?

'I can't take this, it belongs to someone.'

'I doubt the owners will be returning anytime soon,' Zach says, placing the bike on the ground in front of me. He returns to the garage and retrieves another bike which he places next to mine. 'We need to find a pump, the tyres are flat. Help me look.'

I follow him into the dimly lit space. I have no idea what a pump looks like. I run my fingers over various objects and delicately open boxes; peering in to see what they hold. I can't name most of the contents.

'Look what I found.' Zach grins, waving something in front of him.

I inspect the shiny, silver chain with two hoops on either side dangling from his hands. I frown. 'That's a bicycle pump?'

Zach laughs. 'No, these are handcuffs. They were used to restrain criminals. You place them around a person's wrists.' Zach demonstrates on one wrist, locking and unlocking the metal hoop with a tiny key. 'They may come in useful.'

'When?'

'I can think of quite a few scenarios involving you.' Zach winks.

I groan. I have no idea what scenarios he's thinking about, but I can interpret the look on his face. It's identical to when he mentioned tying me up and several other occasions, when I don't need to understand the words to know he's definitely insinuating something crude and dirty.

I shake my head and continue to search the boxes for a bicycle pump. Opening a lid of a box, I find a stack of thin books however these are unlike any book I've seen before. The pages are full of information about boyfriends and fashion, the words broken up by photos of half-naked people intertwined and kissing. The people look strange; their limbs too long, the curves of their body are odd and their skin too smooth and unblemished as though it was made from freshly melted wax. Everything looks unnatural and deformed. Is this what people used to look like? Is this how life used to be, overly intimate and sexual?

'A lot of those photos are digitally altered,' Zach says over my shoulder.

I nod not really understanding what he means. I can't take my eyes away from a life which looks so different: their looks, their clothes, their poses, the possessions they hold.

He adds, 'some of those models would have earned large amounts of money to be featured in these. Not that it would have been much use in the end.'

Did any of them survive?

Back then, money became obsolete and worthless. Instead, skills and what you had to offer became a necessity. It's the reason my parents and Alma were invited into the Naturalist settlement even though they were never part of the original movement. Dab had his useful supplies and was allowed to bring along Daa while Alma was medically trained. I doubt long limbs and unblemished skin would be considered useful. I place the thin book full of dead faces back in the box.

'Found one.' Zach lifts another object I can't identify. 'Do you want me to pump yours or do you want to do it yourself?'

'Do yours first and I'll do mine after.' I don't want him doing everything for me, but I also don't want to admit I have no idea how to use a bicycle pump even though he knows I've never ridden a bike before so it only makes sense I wouldn't know how to use a bicycle pump, but I already feel ridiculously inexperienced next to Zach, and I strangely don't want him to think less of me or worst feel sorry for me.

I need to breathe.

What is wrong with me? Why do I care what he thinks?

Zach arches an eyebrow at me but shrugs and heads outside. As I watch Zach pump up his bicycle tyre, I realise he's fully aware I don't know how to use it because he takes his time, making the odd comment which will help me when it's my turn.

He hands me the pump and I sigh.

I'm an idiot.

If I'd admitted I didn't know how to pump a bicycle Zach wouldn't have thought less of me. He's never seemed bothered by my lack of knowledge when it comes to Techie things.

'You ok?' Zach frowns.

'Yeah.' I wave the pump in front of me. 'I don't know how to pump up a tyre.'

'Have a go.' Zach stands back as I attempt to repeat his actions. It takes longer than him but not much and I do it, without any more help from Zach. Once pumped I straighten up and smile.

'I thought you didn't know how to pump up a tyre.' Zach says placing the pump in his bag. He grins at me. 'What other secret talents are you hiding from me?'

'None, and you're doing that thing again where you make everything sound...'

'Incredibly sexy,' Zach interrupts as he straddles his black bike.

'Incredibly disgusting you mean,' I retort, shaking my head but I can't stop the smile reaching my lips. 'Let's get out of here.'

Zach chuckles. Pedalling, he glides off in front of me. My bike is heavier than the one I've been practising on so I struggle to find my balance as I pedal behind Zach. Wobbling from side to side, I focus on the distant landscape and wonder where we're going. Do more rotten bodies await us out there? Is the world simply a mass of corpses and nothing more?

The sound of our clanking bike chains thunders across the desolate land. The further we get from the town the less tense I feel and my muscles start to relax. I enjoy the air brushing against my face, my clothes blowing around me. Riding along the deserted road, we pass empty flat fields with bare dirt. The occasional sign directs us to cities and towns which no longer exist. Abandoned lumps of metal on wheels lay on the side of the road. The odd vacant dilapidated house with its crumbling exterior reminds me this place had once been inhabited by people who are now dead. I avoid looking at windows, scared to see a pair of dead eyes staring back or worst; alive and belonging to dangerous Drifters.

Jagged formations come into view on the horizon; large, sharp shapes jutting out from the ground.

'Are you enjoying taking it super slow back there?' Zach calls to me.

I roll my eyes even though he can't see me and pedal faster. Overtaking him, I smile broadly. I would wave but I'm still too unstable, and I don't fancy falling off at this speed. Zach grins, speeding up he accepts the unspoken challenge, and we proceed to try and outdo the other. I'm sure he's being easy on me but I don't care. The air whips against my face, blocking out everything around me. Heat pumps through my legs and my chest is burning. The sensation is intense yet phenomenal causing me to push harder, not wanting to let the feeling escape.

'You're pretty good for someone who's only been riding a week,' Zach says, a grin plastered across his face.

'You should be better for someone who's been riding a lot longer.' I smile back.

Zach laughs loudly, and I can see he's enjoying this as much as me. We should be nervous and scared about Drifters or the risk of Virulence, but all I can focus on is how amazing it is to be free.

Zach studies his screen and I catch a glimpse of interconnected lines, green coloured areas; a once luscious region now desolate and infertile. I ask, 'Where did you get the maps from?'

'They use them for expeditions. As my mum is one of the leaders she has access to them.'

'Didn't she wonder what you wanted them for?'

'I didn't ask her. I know her login password which means I can get access to them. We use passwords for...'

'I know what a password is,' I interrupt flatly.

'And how would the Naturalist, who's never used a computer or tablet, know about passwords?' Zach smirks.

'Passwords were around way before computers were invented. I assume the idea is the same, a word to get access to something important.' I glance at Zach who is pedalling next to me.

What is his password?

Does it reflect something about him or is it just a random word? 'I'm guessing your mum doesn't know you know her password?'

He looks at me and frowns before returning his focus to the road. 'No. It's my dead sister's name and her date of birth. My mum never talks about her. She once told me she had a daughter before my dad and her arrived, but wouldn't tell me anything else. She said I didn't need to know. The only reason I found out was because I stumbled across a hidden baby photo of my sister which had her name and date of birth written underneath. I'd been trying to figure out my mum's password for years. When I tried that it worked.'

I nearly say something to excuse his mum but then I realise he probably doesn't want that right now. He's angry and feeling rejected, and I understand those emotions. I'm realising I'm not the only person holding resentment, even when you know your parents' actions are their way of trying to protect you.