It didn't clear up for the better part of two weeks, two weeks of trying to sleep on the couch quite unsuccessfully, two weeks of Countdown and other daytime television shows that made me want to pull out my eyeballs, two weeks of no one for company other than Connor. The cabin fever had long since been and gone. We spent the whole of one Monday morning with our heads pressed together out the window, not talking– we'd made a rule– and watching people on the street outside.

Most of that whole time he hadn't been able to keep anything down. He started managing water maybe an hour before the 2 day mark, so we'd been saved from a trip to a&e. That was his diet for the next 5 days. Then he managed dry crackers and a bit of toast, then just the crackers again, before a few days ago he kept down a whole sandwich and a packet of crisps before he moved onto ice–cream. No later had he started getting back to normalcy had I thrown up myself. And that had been at about 8 o'clock this morning. We had both spent the day manifesting that it wouldn't happen again and come this evening– when all that was still lingering was a headache– he'd cried.

It took a minute for me to start wishing I'd vomited just a little bit.

Caroline was fine as people go. There was still something about her that made me not 100% comfortable with her, but not able to tell if was all in my head because I was protective of him, I was trying to ignore it. Connor hadn't stopped talking about her for the last two weeks and that, combined with the lack of sleep, had really started to get to me. I was either still a little bit delirious or being haunted and there were now two deep purple bags beneath my eyes. I'd taken to avoiding the mirrors.

The smell of the stir–fry cooking in the kitchen made me think I was going to throw up again. For a second I was worried that Connor might have been too hasty in letting Caroline come round. But, swallowing down the feeling because I knew he'd missed her, I returned my attention to the punching bag in front of me.

I wasn't much of a boxer. I'd punched a few drunk guys for saying shit in a pub or two and defending myself against a few creatures whilst being marooned but that was the extent of my experience. I'd taken up the hobby whilst staying in the plague house and figured it genuinely couldn't hurt to better my technique. Connor had done one summer of MMA when he was younger before he'd decided he was more logistics- but was still a surprisingly good coach.

'So who are you imagining it is this time?' Connor asked, glancing up from the book he was reading.

I punched harder in response. 'Don't know what you're talking about.'

It had been 9 days since everything started when I heard a knock on the door. It had to be my imagination, my desperation to get out, smell fresh air that wasn't just coming in through the window, and muting the tv for a second I waited to hear if the noise came again.

When it did I jumped up and ran to the window.

The postman.

Even if I couldn't get too close at least I'd be able to have a conversation with someone who wasn't my cousin.

I almost tripped down the stairs.

And the alarm in his eyes when I threw the door open was enough to make me lift up my hands in apology. 'Sorry,' I said. 'Cousins' sick. Been coped in up there for over a week now,' I explained, though I was sure he didn't care. 'Have no idea how good it is to see your face.'

Thankfully, the man chuckled. 'Course love, I know what that's like. It's good to see your face too.'

My laughter was cut off when a car door slammed nearby, and switching my attention momentarily off the postman I saw Nick.

And it was like seeing him again for the first time after all those years. Though it hadn't been long I'd almost forgotten what he looked like. How beautiful he was. How much I'd missed him.

However, the expression on his face was the complete opposite of my own. I looked down, not having noticed my state of undress, that wasn't anything serious because everything was still covered by my long, baggy jumper. But I expected this hadn't helped my situation, because he came forward, brushing roughly past the postman to drop a few of bags of food at my feet. In truth, we hadn't been getting through a lot, but that didn't matter. It was thoughtful none the less.

It was lovely.

I should have said something then but I didn't.

Because like he'd been burnt by proximity to me, he immediately retreated.

'Nick?' I questioned.

'Oh no, Anna, don't you worry, I'm not staying. Wouldn't dream of it,' he called back over his shoulder. I gripped the wood of the front door tighter. 'And I am just so sorry to have interrupted your little... moment...' he added, as he got back to the car. 'By all means, don't let me intrude. Carry on.'

'Sure I'm not 'embarrassing' myself?' I yelled back after him.

He stopped, car door open, his head titled as he stared at me, before finally he climbed petulantly into the car.

'Who was that then, your dad?' the postman asked.

'Boyfriend,' I responded, suddenly not in the mood to chat anymore. 'Thanks.' I took the post out his hands, and turned, slamming the door shut behind me without bothering to bring in the groceries.

Caroline came out of the kitchen, carrying the stir fry with her, before she put it down on the dining table.

'Anna,' she said, as she skipped towards me and stopped on the opposite side of the punching bag. 'I... um... I noticed you do a lot of scissor kicks,' she started, 'and those aren't going to be enough to disable your opponent.'

Connor looked up.

'Really...' she continued, 'you want to look to catch them in the throat area,' she suggested.

I nodded; I couldn't explain to her that most of the time it probably wouldn't be people I needed to kick.

Back of the knees.

That was almost the best place to kick anything that had legs because at the very least it would stumble and give someone enough time to escape.

Meeting her gaze around the punching bag, I stepped back. 'Sure...'

She nodded. She took a moment to prepare herself before she turned, planted a surprisingly powerful kick at the top of the punching bag, and landed. 'Like that...' she said. 'Your way he gets a few bruises, mine he's chocking on the floor.'

'Good if I don't like the guy, right?' I joked.

She bit her lip as she started laughing. 'Yeah, you know, say no more,' and she waved a hand through the air as she stepped back towards the table. 'Dinner is served, if you're hungry.'

I wasn't. Not wanting to hurt her feelings though I joined her and Connor at the table. My bottom had just hit the chair when I heard my phone go off on the other side of the room. I groaned and looked around to locate it.

The sofa.

No. Too far.

If it was important it would go off again.

'Caroline,' Connor started, 'this all looks amazing.'

As the smell permeated up through my nostrils I swallowed again, trying to somehow close off my nose and breathe in through my mouth. 'Yeah,' I added in agreement. My headache was coming back. I glanced around, noticed a blister pack of paracetamol on the edge of the bureau behind us and swung back on the hind legs of my chair to stretch for it. I popped two out, threw them into my mouth and dry swallowed them while trying not to wince.

Connor rubbed his hands together. 'Where to start...'

My phone bleeped again, and huffing I pushed myself off the chair and made my way towards it. As I picked it up I saw it was a text. Two texts.

From Nick.

Please tell Connor to check his phone.

Now.

I laughed humourlessly. 'Nick,' I announced, as I reached out to grab a hoodie from the sofa arm, 'been calling you apparently.'

'Nah,' Connor denied. I came back over to the table.

'Nick?' Caroline repeated like she was trying to place where she'd heard that name before. 'You mean your boyfriend, Anna?' she realised.

'He works with us it's kind of like a family animal business,' Connor said, 'I've had no call come through.'

'Must have,' I responded, picking his phone up off the table and tossing it to him. I pulled the hoodie down over my head then leant back to check the weather out the window. I'd probably be fine without a jacket.

'Anna,' he replied, 'I think I'd know if Cutter was calling me because– oh.'

'Gotta go,' I finished.

'I could have sworn this was switched on.'

I walked over towards the top of the stairs so distracted by my frustration – nothing from him all week and now a text like that– that I'd forgotten about Caroline until she spoke. 'What could possibly be so important that you have to just leave everything?' she commented.

I rattled through the dish on the dresser in search for my car keys that were buried under two weeks' worth of accumulated shit. 'Right, Caroline, a favour? Make sure you turn the lights out?' I went down the stair and quickly pulled on my converse. 'Connor?'

'Yeah, I'm coming.'

The outside world seemed a lot bigger than I remembered it. And the air seemed to do us both some good as we arrived at the canal and walked down the pontoon. 'You know I'm going to have to say something to Caroline,' Connor said. 'It's weird us rushing off together all the time.'

'Oh. Connor, please. Give me five minutes where I don't have to hear about Caroline,' I replied.

He huffed. 'Well sorry,' he returned as though he hadn't spoken about her at all in the last few weeks. 'Thought you might be happy for me that's all.'

'Think I'm not? Think I could possibly not be and listen to you talk about her for 15 days straight.' I sighed. 'Five minutes, that's all. Two minutes... 30 seconds...'

I hadn't spoken about Nick that whole time, despite everything going on there. Except to tell him the story about what had happened when he turned up. I had a little more awareness than Connor. Presumably because I was the younger of the two of us, and had a concept of not wanting to annoy him.

He never thought about it.

'You know I didn't ask you to stay and look after me. Maybe if you weren't trying so hard to avoid Cutter–'

'Next time you get sick I'll leave all the vomit on the floor. Clean it up yourself 5 days later when you can actually get out of bed.'

'Yeah, thank you!' he returned.

'Urgh!'

'You didn't even ask if I wanted you there,' Connor continued. And I couldn't even correct him with the fact that he was unconscious and completely delusional for the first five days before he continued, 'I would have much rather had Caroline with me.'

'Shut the fuck up about Caroline!' I was too furious to even consider my own tone because Connor hadn't ever spoken to me like that before and I had no doubt that it was this whole girlfriend thing that had got to him. And it was like he didn't even want to bother with me anymore, like he thought family was only to be considered whenever it suited his needs. But this being Connor I didn't want to assume it of him, and as we reached the end of the pontoon and stopped among all the boxes of A.R.C equipment, I took a deep breath. 'Just... don't want you to get hurt, okay?'

But he didn't react at all like I'd expected. 'You know what,' he said with just as much anger as before, 'you don't know what you're talking about why don't you stay out of it.'

'Connor...'

'No, I don't care what you think alright.'

Footsteps started to reverberate down the jetty, boards wobbling beneath us, as with a final angry glare Connor moved forward, grabbed a box and started helping load the stuff onto the boats.

'Miss Havisham!'

I jumped at the sound of his voice, bringing my head round and grabbing a hold of my hair as it got caught in the wind.

Cutter ran straight past me right up to the end of the pontoon to glance all the way around the edge of the of the canal before he turned back to look at me.

'Is there any other way out this canal?'

I shook my head.

Stephen and Jensen stopped beside me. And- credit to him- Stephen must have somehow read in my expression that I was feeling almost completely crushed by the distress, because he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.

I cleared my throat. 'Locks have been closed. Completely sealed,' I finished.

'Then it's still here.'

I frowned at Nick. 'What is?'

'Not sure but we have to find out soon; it's going to be dark in a few hours. Jensen, you go in that boat with Anna and Connor, you see anything call us. Let's go.'

Stephen squeezed my shoulder. 'You okay?'

I nodded. 'Yeah.'

I could tell straight away that he didn't believe me but to my surprise he let it go. 'Listen,' he said with a reassuring smile, 'it's good to have you back.'

'Good to be back.'

'So that all cleared up then?'

'...mostly.'

He nodded. 'About time.' When I started to move towards my boat without responding he called my name again. And it wasn't right– the feeling that the only ally I had was Stephen Hart. I turned to him. 'Hey, we've been lost without you.' I smiled gratefully.

I spent the next few hours staring into the water, body pressed against the side of the boat with a torch in my hand that I'd been holding for so long the grip was slick with sweat.

It had gotten dark while we were out there. I had to squint in order to be able to see anything below the waterline.

My stomach felt empty. It was rumbling every now and again loud enough to be concerned that the others could overhear it. My attention was wavering because of it but watching the waves made me feel a little nauseous anyway so I'd unfocused my gaze and settled for a general surveying of the area.

And when I saw something I didn't know whether to believe it or not because I'd wanted to see something for some time, to alleviate my boredom. I instantly wondered if it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. 'Back up,' I said, 'think I saw something!'

'Where?' Connor responded.

I turned to frown at him. 'What part of back up do you not understand, just go backwards. Little bit to port.' As he started to steer the boat back, I groaned. 'Said port.'

'This is port!'

'No, it's not!'

'How am I supposed to be able to steer if you don't know which is which.'

'Port is left!' I rattled, slamming my palm against the side of the boat with each word, 'this is right, Connor.' I turned back to the water to cast the light of my torch across it. 'Great!' I snapped, 'lost it now.'

'Oh, good, good. You know what why don't you give me ago?'

'What can you see that I can't?'

'Well maybe if you pass me–'

Jensen let out a sudden loud groan that made us both jump. 'For heaven's sake,' he yelled, 'you two are arguing like a couple of kids over a toy. Out of the way. I'll do it.' Just as he reached out to shift Connor out the way so that he could squeeze past, the boat hit something.

I hit the floor, landing mainly my elbow whilst my head thumping back against the wooden seat with a crack and immediately my headache returned with a vengeance but the pain was so intense at the olecranon at end of my ulna that I had to snatch it to my chest. I still was too angry to wince even though for the first ten or fifteen seconds minimum I was absolutely positive I must have broken something. I laid there for a moment in a sort of panic as I didn't want to cause a fuss by admitting the pain but wasn't sure how else to go forward.

Eventually I managed to sit up and grab the torch in with my good arm before I maneuvered myself back onto my feet. I couldn't straighten my arm. Something didn't feel right.

Connor was yelling, I was in too much pain to listen and the noise was too sharp against my ear drums that I had to take a step back from him.

I tried to turn my focus down to the water.

Connor circled the boat back, jumping over from the controls to the edge whilst I started to scan desperately through the water trying to locate Jensen in the beam of my torch.

A second later his head broke through from beneath the surface. 'What the hell just happened?' he demanded.

'We must have hit something! Come on, we'll get you out, Jensen. Swim!'

My brain started to throb like it wanted to explode out my skull and I dropped the torch, reaching up to press a cold hand against my forehead. I could feel my brain pulsating. I wanted to crawl into a hole. When I opened my eyes again I caught sight of a bobbing head in the water just as a dark shape rippled behind it.

I lifted a hand to point towards the shape. 'The fuck is that?'

I heard Connor swallow. 'Jensen,' he called, trying to keep both his voice and expression calm not to worry him, 'you need to get out of the water quickly. You'll be okay... just swim.'

'I can't swim!' Jensen snapped.

A sudden pain spiked through the back of my head where I'd hit the seat. Oh god.

Beside me Connor's voice grew more and more elated. Another shape moved in front of our boat.

And I was trying to work out what it was when the gunfire started. And I snatched my hands over my ears, scowling at the pain it caused in my elbow and screwing my eyes closed again. I could feel my hands shaking, the wind whipped against me, and in a moment all semblance of warmth vanished from my body. I was barely aware of the fact I was shivering before my teeth started to rattle. I dropped, made myself as small and uninteresting as possible and tried to block out all the noises.

If I stayed here– if I stayed completely still maybe it would leave me alone.

Someone grabbed me, and I jumped, eyes shooting open to try and work out who it was when they spoke. 'Anna!' Stephen, I realised. But he wasn't even on my boat– wait– the boat was back at the dock and he was on it. 'Jesus, Anna. Is that blood?'

No.

I wasn't bleeding– was I?

I opened my mouth. 'fine...' I tried to persuade him, but I still couldn't straighten my arm and the pounding throb of my head silenced me further.

'Like hell you are.'

The floor came out from under me but my eyes were already closed and I felt something wrap around under my shoulders.

'Okay.' I agreed.

I saw Nick's face, just for a moment, cutting clearly through my vision before I suddenly didn't have the strength to hold my own head up and it fell against Stephen's chest.