Zoey and Hopkins tumbled around the tiny space like clothes in a dryer, sliding off the slippery seat into the space below. She banged her head and knees on the hard metal. The bike swerved from side to side and changed speed all the time making her tummy turn. It went slow at first, then faster and faster until Zoey thought the bike would fall apart. The sound of the engine deafened her, and it shook so much that she couldn't feel her arms and legs anymore. At one point it bumped over something on the road and she felt like she was floating in the air for a moment.

She found the seatbelt and held onto it. Looking up, she saw the stars and the moon, big and round, and realised the jacket she'd had over her head was gone. In a way she was glad. No matter how fast the bike went, or how much it swerved, the moon kept up with her, followed every turn, watching her, keeping her safe.

They went on like that for such a long time - her, Hopkins, the man, and the moon. Zoey felt sure the road had to run out soon. It couldn't go on forever, could it? But maybe it could. Maybe this was what Forever really was. Zoey hadn't understood what Forever was before. Sometimes, on a good day, her mummy would tell her that she loved her Forever, and she'd never hurt her as long as there were stars shining in the sky. But the next day when she caught Zoey wearing her favourite red shoes with the tall heels, she screamed at her and pushed her over, and then threw one of the shoes at her when Zoey tried to run away. Zoey realised that during the day there were no stars, and Forever wasn't really that long after all.

By the time the bike started slowing down, Zoey had forgotten where she was. The stars and the moon were all she could see, and they seemed to dance and shake around before her eyes. Then they hit another bump and Zoey was knocked down again. The bike came to a sudden, jolting stop, and a tree branch crashed down on top of the bike, blocking her view of the sky. There was a groan, and the man threw up loudly. More coughing, rustling of leaves, then there was a shuddering crash and snapping twigs as something came through the branches towards her. It was a hand, covered in cuts, dripping blood, the fingers twitching and grasping. Zoey pressed herself back as far as she could into the corner, out of its reach.

Gradually, the twitches became weaker and weaker until the fingers drooped and began to curl up slightly. The only sound was the slow pat, pat, pat of blood dripping onto the seat. Zoey closed her eyes. With her eyes closed she could almost believe it was just rain dripping from the gutters, or milk spilling off the counter from a knocked over carton. As the sound of her own pounding heart faded away in her ears, she started to hear birds singing. Some of them she recognised. There was the coo coo of Mr Pigeon talking to his friend in the next tree. And the silly song of Mr Magpie. They were the same sounds she heard outside her window every morning as she lay in bed listening to the world wake up.

Zoey hugged her legs. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed she could go back to her own bed. Soon she would hear the water running as Daddy took his shower. The coffee pot would start hissing and gurgling, and she would hear the toaster pop and the scrape of the knife as Mummy made her breakfast. She could already smell the coffee and burnt toast. But when she opened her eyes, the hand was still there, pale and covered in dark streaks like a piece of blue cheese, with black fingernails. Still dripping. Pat, pat, pat.

Then she heard a sound forty hundred times worse. It was the sound she'd been dreading. The slow click, click, click of teeth. It was followed by a rattling breath, like a cricket bat dragged on concrete, and a deep gasp. It was too much. As the hand opened and the swollen knuckles cracked back to life, Zoey screamed.

She knew she was supposed to stay quiet. Uncle Bear had told her to stay just as quiet as a mouse and she'd said she could do it, but now she just couldn't help it. She cried as hard as she could, pulled at her hair, hit the floor with her fists and kicked her feet. Her eyes were blurry and stinging from crying. The gasps from outside grew shorter and faster, more eager. She could hear the breaths rushing in and out of its throat, and its teeth clicking hard. In, out, out, click, in, in, out, out, out, click, click. Every now and then a little cry of excitement would escape with the breaths. The branches that protected her shook and broke as the hand reached and reached and reached, fingernails scraped at the seat, so Zoey screamed louder to drown it out.

Hopkins, who sat protectively in front of her, tucked under her chin, gave a sudden twitch as the hand found his ear. A second later, he was gone.

Zoey wanted to be sick. She didn't hear the other engine at first. Not until Uncle Bear shouted the first time.

'Stevo!'

She stopped fighting, but she couldn't stop the tears. Her chest and throat hurt as they sucked in one deep breath after another.

The man snarled, and there was a loud bang, like a balloon bursting. She heard the thing beside her gasp and click its teeth excitedly, then the scuffing of its feet as it ran. The sound of its footsteps changed from grass to dirt to gravel so quickly. Two more balloons burst, and Uncle Bear shouted again. 'Bastar--' Bang.

It was quiet for a moment. Even the birds had stopped to listen. Then there was one final bang.

The footsteps that came back to her were much slower.

'Please be okay, little Zoey, please,' his voice whispered. 'Please. I can't be too late again.'

Uncle Bear pulled the branch off the bike with a grunt, flooding the little boat with sunlight, and she stared up at him, her chest still heaving. He rested one hand on the bike and rubbed at his eyes with the palm of the other. Then he reached in and pulled her out.

Zoey sat down on the grass because her legs wouldn't hold her up. She felt like she was going to be sick, but nothing came up when she tried. Uncle Bear came down on one knee beside her, and brushed some of her tangled hair out of her face.

'Ah, look at you, little mite. Look how banged up-'

Zoey made a fist and hit him in the soft part between his legs, because she knew that's where it hurt boys the most. Her daddy told her that after she hit him there accidentally with a tennis ball, and he had to go lie down. But now she didn't care because she wanted to hurt him.

'Leave me alone! I don't want you!' she shouted. 'You said you would come back, and you left. I want Mummy and Daddy! I want to go home, and help Mummy set the table, because Daddy is coming home soon in his red car and I need to hide under my blanket so he can find me. And Daddy said we could go to the zoo next time and I could see the monkeys and I want Mummy and Daddy not you!'

Uncle Bear cupped himself with one hand and sat back on the grass and let her finish. He had tears in his eyes. When he reached out and pulled her into a bear-hug she squirmed at first, but he just held her there. His arms were warm and trembling.

'I'm sorry, Zoey,' he said. 'I'm sorry.'

Over his shoulder she could see the other man lying in the road on his tummy, with his legs spread out wide. She couldn't see his head. It looked like most of it was missing. What was left of Hopkins was scattered by his feet. When she couldn't look any more, she buried her face in Uncle Bear's beard and put her arms around his neck. The birds were singing again.

The sun warmed her hair until it was almost too hot to touch, and it dried the tears on her cheeks. Uncle Bear stood up slowly and walked over to the bike that was crashed against the tree.

'I don't want to go in there again,' Zoey said, not moving.

'Front wheel's busted up. Springs are shot.' He rubbed his hand over the bike. 'Gas tank took a bash, too. Nope, don't worry, this old girl's going out to pasture.'

'Out to pasta?' Zoey asked with a sniff.

Bear chuckled. 'Sure, why not. I could go for some spaghetti. You like spaghetti?'

Zoey nodded.

He walked back to his own bike and took her pink butterfly helmet from the bag behind the seat. He held it out to her. 'I'm really sorry about Hopkins. I promise I won't leave you alone ever again.'

She didn't say anything, but trotted over and took the helmet.

He shook his head and stroked his beard. 'Fair dinkum, your mum and dad must have been proud of you. You're a heckuva' lot braver than me. Come on, let's get you into some clean clothes and find something to eat. Ready to get out of here?'

She raised her arms, and he lifted her back onto the bike.

***

They rode past empty fields and farms. It was a long time before they passed another car, and it was empty; an ugly green wagon, parked neatly on the side of the road as if the people had just stopped for a picnic. They saw nobody at all. Zoey spotted a horse in one of the fields and pointed. It was trotting over to them. Uncle Bear pulled the bike over to the side of the road, and they walked up to the fence to meet it. It was brown with a white patch over one ear and white speckles on its legs. It stretched its neck over the fence and nodded its head, asking her for something to eat. Zoey looked at Bear. 'Can we give him something? We could give him hay and apples, but not chocolate. Chocolate makes animals sick.'

'I'm fresh out of hay and apples...and chocolate.'

She walked up to the horse. 'Sorry, Pony' she said to him.

'I think it's a horse, sweetie.'

She looked at Bear. 'I know. His name is Pony.'

'Pony the horse, eh?'

Zoey nodded. 'Daddy was going to take me to the zoo.'

'I know, you said.'

She reached up and stroked Pony's nose for a minute.

'Do you think the animals at the zoo are okay?'

'I'm sure they're fine.'

'What...happened to everyone?'

Bear sighed and placed a hand gently on Pony's head. 'I don't know, sweetheart. I really don't. Everyone just started getting sick. It spread so fast...all my friends...there was nothing...' he sighed again. 'Nobody knew what to do. Most people just went home to be with their families.' Pony lifted his head and tried to nibble at Bear's hand. 'I waited to get sick too, but I never did. I don't know why. I thought because I didn't get it, maybe Lisa would be okay too...' He looked at her. 'You're too young to hear all this. Too young to see what you've seen...'

'Did you give them medicine?'

'Yeah, I tried. Everywhere sold out fast, not that it did anyone any good.'

'I saw Mummy in the window. After she woke up.'

Bear knelt down next to her and held her shoulders. His eyes were wide. 'That wasn't your Mummy. That wasn't Lisa. Just like that wasn't my friend back there. Not anymore.'

Zoey thought about that. 'Do they all wake up?'

Uncle Bear thought about that for a long time. 'No,' he said at last. 'Most don't. I think...I think it's only the people that didn't get sick in the beginning...'

When she turned to look at him, he met her eyes for a moment, then looked away. Like us.

'But what do I know? Your mum was the only one in our family with any brains.'

She felt cold, talking about the laughers. 'I wish they didn't laugh.'

'Yeah, me too.'

'When Mummy gets better, will you take me back home? I'll show you my toy box, and we can play dress-ups.'

Uncle Bear's eyebrows turned down at the edges. 'Zoey...' he began.

Suddenly Pony's ears flicked, and he turned and trotted away. Something was coming along the road behind them. They saw it first as a cloud of red dust in the distance, but soon they could hear the engine and the sound of the tyres on gravel. It was the green car.

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Thank-you for reading Zoey. I truly appreciate every read, vote and comment, and I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far.

Hmm, any predictions for who's driving this seemingly important green car? Friend? Foe? The One Direction boys? Let's hear 'em :)