Reaching our base below the old Aldwych station usually felt like a blessed relief from the pressing gloom of the tunnels.

No matter how many times I travelled in darkness under the city, it still knotted my muscles into a mesh of tightly woven coils. The tension seemed so normal now, that sometimes I didn't even realise how much it took its toll on my body until I reached the sanctuary of the base and felt that mesh begin to unravel. Because that's what we survivors did now. We just bore the pain. Whether it was the pain of losing those we loved, the pain of grieving for a world we had always taken for granted and would now never get back, or the pain that plagued our bodies for constantly feeling on edge, we had grown accustomed to it all.

This evening, however, the usually welcome sight of the base and those I knew did little to uncoil the tight springs of my muscles. If anything, it just wound them tighter still, almost knocking the breath from my body as we escaped the tunnels. I saw their faces, those I had come to consider my family – if family still existed in this dead and barren world – and all I could think was, I have killed you all, I have brought the Devil to your door and I have killed you all.

It didn't help that the first face I saw was Abby's. Abby, the one who had befriended me without question, the one who never judged anyone, the one who always had a smile for me and an intuitive way of knowing when I was troubled. Of course, it had to be her.

'Shit, Evie... Jace...' She jumped up from where she was cleaning her rifle, wiping the grease from her fingers with a white rag and running to greet us both with one of her infamous hugs.

I clung onto her longer than I usually would – I wasn't known for my love of personal contact – and when she pulled away, her eyes clouded with question, only for them to widen knowingly as she spied Tom over my shoulder. I stepped to one side as she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin as she sized him up. Abby had a real knack for getting the measure of people within seconds. She often said it was living on the streets that had enabled her to have this intuition that others didn't.

'You learn fast,' she had said to me one day, 'or you wind up dead. Ain't no lesson like being on the streets.'

She looked from Tom to me, and all at once I was torn. I wanted her to know. I wanted her to see, because that would have meant the end. Right then and there, it would have been over before it had barely begun. But I also knew what that would mean for me and I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready to put myself back where I'd been before the Final Wave.

'Well,' she finally said, with a smile and shaking her head. 'I know you never told us much, Evie, but you could have at least told us your husband looked this good.' She held out her hand to him. 'Welcome, Thomas. Do you mind Thomas?'

The Grey stared at Abby's hand, a split-second of confusion in his eyes, but I could see his thoughts racing, almost as if he was desperately trying to rummage through Tom's head for something. He grasped Abby's hand in his.

'I don't mind at all. But most people just call me Tom. Evie usually calls me Thomas when she's mad at me.'

Bastard.

Abby's grin widened and I realised, she hadn't let go of his hand.

'And how can she ever possibly be mad at you, eh?'

Tom glanced at me. 'I have my moments.'

My return grin was brief, knowing that Abby was looking to me for affirmation and needing to give her something. 'Where's Taj?' I said, looking about for him.

Just as I said his name, the man himself appeared rushing through from the rooms beyond, followed closely by Gav, Len and Len's wife, Janey – a quiet, mouse-like woman often overshadowed by her larger-than-life husband.

This was it.

I took a deep breath, sure that my heart was beating so loud that everyone in the base would be able to hear it. Maybe so loud that it would act as a beacon and bring every Grey in the Quadrant to our door.

'I was starting to think you hadn't made it,' Taj said, stopping to squeeze my arm warmly and slapping Jace on the shoulder, although his expression soured notably when he took in the sight of our new companions. 'I see you have brought guests.' His tone was clipped, his eyes darkening.

I couldn't blame him. This was a rarity. We hadn't had a newbie in our midst in a long time, let alone two and one of those just happened to be my long-lost husband and the other, the leader of our rivals here in Quadrant One.

His gaze briefly flitted over Tom, before coming to rest on Lena. Taj pursed his lips together, his stare levelling on Jace and me.

'There had better be a good reason for this.' His hand hovered over the blade holstered on his hip and I noticed how the others had moved in line behind him. The atmosphere around us crackled with tension.

Jace stepped forward, holding his hands up. 'Taj, mate, this is irregular, I know.'

'It's not just irregular, my friend,' Taj replied, his hands now resting on the hilt of his knife. 'Like I said, you'd better have a good reason for bringing her here. This isn't going to go down well.'

'I know, I know,' said Jace, inching closer. 'Lena's crew are all dead or taken. She's on her own.'

Taj arched a dark brow. 'And some here would say that's all that she deserves.' His gaze found mine and I reddened, unable to hold his stare. 'Evie? I'm surprised. I would have thought Lena would be the last person you'd bring to us?'

Tom's fingers brushed against mine, no doubt a gesture small enough for the others not to even notice, but to me, it felt it like a burn to the skin. I balled my hand into an impenetrable fist.

'I-I don't like it anymore that you do, Taj, trust me.' I shot a glance at Jace, then Lena, who, for once, looked suddenly unsure of her standing and rightly so. This was our place, not hers. It was her time to feel like the trespasser and I couldn't help but feel a spiteful kick of joy at the thought of her feeling scared.

I sighed, hating this. Hating her, hating the Grey. 'But, we're not in the habit of killing our own, unless as an act of self-defence. You know what it's like out there. There's fewer of us every single day. We need every last human we can find, now more than ever. Even if that human happens to be Lena.'

I glanced begrudgingly at the Norwegian, taking in her look of surprise that I, of all people, would be the one to fight her corner.

'I'm touched, Evelyn, thank you,' she said, exhaling slowly.

'Don't be. I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for us. And stop calling me fucking Evelyn.'

Taj remained tense and alert, eyeing us all, with something that looked horribly like suspicion. He wasn't convinced, I could see that clearly. What if he believed we were all compromised? What if this welcome party wasn't just for Lena and Tom, but for Jace and me too? I didn't like the way the others hadn't backed down. If anything, they looked even more wary, a dangerous strain of mistrust stirring the air in the small lobby room, that marked the entrance to the TFL staff quarters.

'Look, Taj, come on, man,' Jace said, clearly sensing how the tension had ramped up a notch and moving in beside me. 'You know Evie and I wouldn't bring anyone back to base if we didn't think it was the right thing to do. Evie's right. We need every last woman and man standing if we're going to stand any chance. Each time one of us goes topside, we risk never coming back. We've been lucky so far, but that luck won't last forever. We can't sit in these tunnels, watching our numbers dwindle away to nothing. We need to do something, and we need more people. As many as we can get. The Greys have divided us for too long. It's about time we all stood together and fought back.'

Gav snorted. 'Bloody Hell, Jace man, did you have some kind of religious epiphany out there? Get knocked about the head or something?'

'It looks like Evie got knocked about the head,' Abby remarked, nodding at the injury on my forehead.

'What happened?' Taj said, his suspicious gaze landing on Lena.

'It wasn't her,' I quickly stepped in. 'I-I... had a run in with a Grey. Ending up falling down some stairs and whacking my head on a marble statue.'

'Which would explain why you're clearly not thinking straight. Doesn't explain you though, Jace.'

Taj wasn't backing down. I wasn't sure I'd ever seen his face look so pinched and hard.

'Taj, you know us.' Jace sounded exasperated and I knew it was because he'd put everything behind this plan of Tom and Lena's. He wanted it so badly and despite what he'd said, he wanted Taj on our side. His side. 'Look, there's another reason we need Lena. We have a target, Taj. We finally have a target we can hit. Tom here and Lena have been there. They've seen it for themselves.'

'What kind of target?' said Len, his face twisting with disbelief.

'A facility. A Grey facility. It's where they're storing the taken. We have a chance to not only free our people, but to hit the Greys hard.'

'What?' Len snapped, staring at Jace like he was insane. 'Jace, you can't be serious. How the bloody Hell are we meant to do that?' He rubbed at his chin, his stubble sounding like sandpaper under his rough hands. 'There's no way we're strong enough to hit one of their places, if this place even exists.'

'It exists.'

I flinched, feeling my breath catch in my throat on hearing Tom's voice.

He stepped forward, his right hand outstretched to Taj, his other brushing against mine. For a moment, I didn't think Taj was going to reciprocate the gesture. There was a second of hesitation. A second that seemed to last forever where Tom's greeting hung in the air.

Taj held out his hand and grasped Tom's in his own.

I tried not to think about how Taj had slept side by side with a Grey for months, never knowing that the man he adored was not in fact, the person he thought he was. How he'd been betrayed. Lied to. Tricked.

Just as I was allowing Tom to trick him now.

'It's good to meet you properly, Tom,' he said, although he didn't look particularly enamoured to meet the man masquerading as my husband. There was still a tightness around his eyes. A coldness in his expression. I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about Rico now and how he'd infiltrated Lena's group so easily. He held on to Tom's hand a little longer than necessary.

'Good to meet you too,' agreed Tom, seemingly unperturbed by Taj's steady gaze. 'Listen, I understand this is all a lot to take in and you're right to be wary. I would be exactly the same. There's a lot at risk.' He cast his eyes over the others, acknowledging them. 'All I ask is that you hear us out and if you don't like what you hear, we'll abide by whatever you decide.'

'And what if we decide to put a bullet between your eyes?' said Len, stepping forward, angrily shaking off Janey's soft touch on his arm. 'And hers.' He jabbed a finger towards Lena.

I stared wide-eyed at him, feeling that same feeling I had when Abby had first introduced herself to Tom. It could end now and yet I hated the idea it could be Len that did it. The Grey would deserve it, there was no doubt about that, but it wasn't Len's victory to claim. It was mine.

The Grey was mine.

'Christ, Len,' Abby said, rolling her eyes. 'Stop being a prize twat.'

'I'm not the one who's brought two strangers back here,' Len insisted, his cheek muscles bristling with anger. 'We don't know this fella from Adam.'

Tom's brow twitched with confusion. He was struggling with the phrase, trying to work out what the Hell Len was going on about. Hoping that no one had noticed, I stepped forward, pulling on the chain around my neck, my fingers finding the small silver locket. Fumbling with the clasp – I hadn't opened it in what seemed like forever – I brandished the small oval photo at Len. I didn't need to look myself. I knew what it showed, even if I hadn't been able to look at the damn picture since the day Monica had given the locket to me. I hadn't wanted to look at Tom's face encased inside the silver pendant and remember that something had stolen that face from me.

'I think this is pretty conclusive, don't you, Lenny?' I said.

Len made a big show of reaching out to look closer at the picture, then up at Tom, then back to the picture again, muttering under his breath as he let go of the locket. It dropped against my chest, feeling heavier than it was. A burden, I thought, a betrayal. I tucked it back under my vest top.

Taj clicked his tongue against his teeth, his thumb now rubbing over the hilt of the blade.

'Okay,' he said. 'Okay. For what it's worth, I trust Jace and Evie. If they think you have something to offer us, then it's worth listening to. So, go on, I'm listening.'

Wetting his lips with his tongue, Tom nodded in response.

'Thank you,' he said, and went on to tell them all the same story he'd told us, about how he'd been with a group in Battersea, the visit to Lister Hospital, the ambush, the discovery of the storage facility in Central Hall, deep within the Black Zone. When he got to that part, I saw Taj tilt his head, his eyes widening ever so slightly – it was the smallest of movements, but I could see from the look on his face that Tom's story had at least piqued his interest.

'I'm not suggesting a mission to attack Central Hall isn't risky,' Tom said, looking at them all. 'Of course, it is. But everything we do now comes with risk. I would much rather be taking risks while making steps to fight back than taking risks while sitting out whatever is left of my life, hiding under the city.'

He paused, taking a breath. 'Before all of this, I was a teacher. A primary school teacher in run-down inner-city schools. You know, the ones no one really wanted to teach at, because they were forgotten and under-funded. The kids were mostly from gang-run housing estates that nobody wanted to walk through in the daytime, let alone the night. Their families had nothing. Their lives meant nothing to anyone. But, let me tell you something, every single day those kids took risks. Whether it was just coming to school. Learning something new. Daring to be different. Daring to want something more than what life had given them so far. They took risks because it gave them something to think about, other than the shitty hand this world had dealt them. They took risks because it was better than the alternative. They took risks because they knew fighting back was the only option for them, if they were ever going to achieve anything in life and not end up in gangs or the unemployment queue, fighting for scraps from the Government, which is exactly what everyone who turned their backs on working in those schools expected of them.'

'We can do this. We can fight back. But it's only going to work if we stop letting the Greys divide us.' He shrugged. 'Or we can sit back and do just what they expect of us.'

'Which is what?' said Gav.

Tom turned his gaze on the ex-footballing star. 'Nothing,' he said, his face devoid of expression. 'They expect nothing, because to them we are nothing. Humans aren't a threat. We're a commodity now. To be taken and used however they see fit. Or to die. Either way, they don't care.'

I stared at the creature. The one wearing my husband's face. The one speaking with his voice. Everything he'd said and the way he'd said it was so Tom. If I'd closed my eyes to my surroundings, drifted away, forgotten we were under the city of London, forgotten how a war had raged violently above our heads, I might have believed I'd been transported back to the time before. Before the invasion. Before everything had changed.

This was Tom. His passion. His voice. His heart.

This was what he'd believed in. This is what he strived for every single day, to inspire those kids to want more, to make them fight for a better life, to fight for them.

I wanted to close my eyes and listen to him as he talked. I wanted more of it. More of him and his voice. More of his passion and his fire.

I wanted what I couldn't have.

I swallowed and dared to look at them all. Everyone was silent.

Taj's eyes found mine again and I willed myself not to look away this time.

'Okay, Tom Morgan,' he said. 'I'll admit, that was one Hell of a speech. You've earned yourself an audience with the rest of the group.' He turned and began to walk away, the others moving to the side to let him through.

'Wait,' Tom said, 'what does that mean? You're letting us stay?'

Taj hesitated by the doorway, looking back at us.

'It means you get to tell your story again and then the group will vote on your mad revolutionary plan. If they vote in your favour, you can stay.'

'And if they vote against?'

Taj smiled.

'Then we decide whether or not to put a bullet between your eyes.'