With Carla secured in the basement, locked away and hidden by household junk, Henna prepared to leave the house with Cas. She had left enough food and water with Carla, and a pair of scissors where Carla could see them, should she wake from the screaming nightmare and need to release herself. She doubted the Carla down there, in this moment, would think of using the scissors.

Henna didn't want to give herself false hope, but it was all she had, otherwise the only thing that remained was the possibility that, one day, every person in the world would join the Screamers, turning their heads to the skies and raging to the heavens. Maybe the Screamers had the right idea. Maybe they blamed God for what had befallen them. Maybe it was only one of those diseases that came out of nowhere, stumping scientists for a short while until they learned to understand how the disease worked and then learned how to fix it.

She needed someone to fix it. Living without Carla's smile, her infectious laugh, her incredibly curious and attentive mind, was not any kind of life Henna wanted to live any longer. Only that hope, that foolish hope, that something, someone, could make it all right kept her going. For Carla. Even as she and Cas headed out onto the streets, fully decked out in their protective gear, Henna still wanted to rush back home. She wanted to take Carla in her arms and hold her til the world turned dark.

Darker, she supposed. Only a little over six months since all this had started and already the world had gone to hell. Burned out cars littered streets filled with garbage bags, fine dining for emboldened rats that no longer skulked and hid in sewers and dark places, but ran free in daylight, certain that no humans would care to bother them anymore. Few humans had the time or inclination to care about rats, or any other animal, caring only about themselves in a world where silence had become nothing more than a dream.

Further away, in the city, she saw the ever-present columns of smoke that shifted and drifted between the skyscrapers, reaching out from the ruins below as though stretching to drag themselves away from the surface of a dying world. Not all the skyscrapers remained, of course. An old 747 had put paid to a couple of them. The big jet falling from the sky like God's vengeance upon a corrupt, decadent world. The fire from that had lasted days and Henna hadn't wanted to guess how many people had died.

Maybe both pilot and co-pilot had become Screamers, mid-flight. Maybe one of them had decided they couldn't stand the constant, ear piercing noise any longer. She had heard, before the broadcasts had ended, that it wasn't the only plane to fall. Henna had to feel a little thankful that Carla had turned when she had. The day the plane fell, Henna and Carla were supposed to have visited wedding venues. She doubted the wedding would happen now.

"If we keep moving at a decent pace, the Screamers won't sense me." Cas shouted toward Henna's ear, a distant whisper through the ear defenders. "It's when I stop. It's as if it takes time for them to zero in on me, but when they do ... when they do, you better run."

She gave a thumbs up and an 'okay' sign in front of Henna's face and Henna mirrored it. Either they communicated by shouting, or they had to write everything down. Neither had ever learned sign language and Henna regretted that, even though Alyssa, one of her and Carla's friends, was deaf. It never occurred to either of them how rude it was to not even try to learn.

The police precinct sat only another twelve blocks along this street, but it might as well be ten miles away, fifty miles, more. If the wrong people were abroad, or one of the roving packs of dogs that had turned feral encountered them, or even if they turned the wrong corner, they could find themselves in a world of hurt.

In some places, certain streets, certain districts, the people had placed all the Screamers in one place. A street, a warehouse, an abandoned hotel. Places where dozens, hundreds of Screamers stood with their heads turned skywards, their constant screams reaching only the ears of the Screamers beside them. At least, that was what they had thought, except the screams had carried, travelling far wider, and louder than anyone could have predicted.

There were at least two streets like that between here and the precinct house and, if what Cas said was true, if they stayed too long near those streets, it could bring all those Screamers back to life and out to get Cas. Henna still couldn't get her head around that. The very idea that Screamers could move at all had been proven wrong right at the beginning.

Screamers didn't move unless someone moved them, and then only to return to their feet when laid down. Yet she had seen it with her own eyes. Not only had Carla moved, she had launched into an attack against Cas, ignoring Henna, even though she had been closer. Carla hadn't even glanced at her. Not that any Screamer could glance at anyone, eyes always gazing up, facing in the direction they screamed.

She didn't want to see another Screamer move, certainly not Carla, but if Cas stayed still for too long, Henna would see another move. Or two, five, ten. How many could decide to attack Cas? All of them? How did it even work anyway? Did the Screamers hear her? Smell her? See her, even with their eyes cast upwards? Not knowing made it all worse. She wasn't the greatest of planners in the world, that was Carla's job, but she couldn't plan anything without knowing more.

A glimpse of movement caused Cas to drop to one knee, dragging Henna down with her. Between them, they had ten bullets. Six in Henna's gun, four in Cas'. Not near enough if a large gang decided to attack, and there were many of them to avoid. People banding together in the face of ever present danger. Henna had managed to avoid most of them, but she had fallen foul, twice, to desperate groups of people, ready to steal anything that could help them survive.

The first time she had killed someone was due to one of those gangs. A wild exchange of gunfire that had had Henna running for her life, but she had seen one of her bullets tearing through a man's skull. She hadn't left the house for days after that, the guilt and the fear keeping her huddled away until hunger dragged her out onto the streets once more.

She had already drawn her pistol, even as Cas dragged her to the side, shoving her against the body of an abandoned car. The smell of gasoline assaulted her nostrils as she noticed the tell-tale sign that someone had siphoned all the gas from the vehicle not so long ago. Spots of rainbow liquid, now dried, but still stinking, sat beside her booted feet as Cas looked over the back of the car.

There were Screamers here. Two on this side of the street, four more on the other. Others further away. Left to rot by those who no longer cared about those that had succumbed to the disease, or whatever it was that caused the screams. Henna kept her eyes on those Screamers. It had taken Carla over an hour to 'sense' Cas, but she had come from the other side of their house. This close, Henna couldn't say how long it would take for them to know Cas was there and, when they did, if they did, they couldn't worry about a gang seeing them.

She couldn't simply squat there, her back against the cold metal of the car. Turning, she eased herself upward, looking over the trunk of the car, watching the same spot that Cas' eyes gazed toward with laser-like focus. She was so different from the woman she once knew and yet so very much the same. Even through the broken faceplate of the gas mask, Henna could see those piercing blue eyes that had once fascinated her.

Cas waved her hand, ushering Henna to lower herself down, not looking anywhere but at her target, or where her target was most likely to be, and Henna dipped so that only her eyes looked across the scratched trunk lid. She couldn't see anything. No movement of any kind coming from the abandoned building with no doors, not that she knew what she looked for.

Then she saw it. A flash of movement so fast she almost missed it. Something, or someone, ran, rushing past trees that had become overgrown, new branches hanging low, hiding what ran behind them. Breath caught in Henna's throat, but she saw Cas relax, if only a slight. Henna looked to where Cas' eyes had followed the movement, only to see a pack of dogs racing away. She couldn't hear their barks and howls, but she could see the dark patches that covered their muzzles. Blood, most likely.

Not blood from the Screamers, though. That was something else that had always puzzled Henna. She would have expected rats, at least, to have taken the immobile people as some kind of feast. Standing there, unmoving, day, night, rain, shine, always still. Always screaming. Yet she had never seen any sign of animals taking advantage of the fresh meat at their disposal. As though the Screamers were something to avoid even if they weren't screaming.

Cas hooked her fingers to Henna and they both rose to their feet to continue along the road to the police precinct. There, Cas hoped to find weaponry of some kind. Ammunition. Batons. More guns. Something that could help her reach the extraction site. She knew as well as Henna that it was unlikely. The police, like almost everyone else, had abandoned their posts when so few of them remained to be effective. Those that hadn't turned, that is. If the armoury at the precinct hadn't been cleared out already, it would be a miracle, but they had to try. Henna had to get Cas, and her confidential package, to the right people. The people who could end all this.

Once again, they began to creep along the street. How Cas had survived like this for so long, Henna couldn't imagine. Even now, as they moved away from those Screamers they had hidden near, Henna felt certain she had seen one move. Maybe it had, maybe it hadn't, but Cas had had to think like that for some time. Henna already felt paranoid at any possibility of movement.

As she turned her head away from the Screamer, satisfied it wasn't moving, she looked, in passing, down a side street, and stopped. At first, Cas didn't notice, continuing for another few steps before looking back. She tilted her head in question, only for Henna to nod to the side street and, when Cas looked to see what Henna saw, her immediate reaction was to fire.

And the man fired back.