DAY ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-ONE
The first day of the new year had been an unprecedented ordeal, a new low. It had begun with Piotr’s raid on them at the garden centre and had gone downhill from there. They’d expected to be at Ledsey Cross by now, but their destination felt further away than ever. And was there even any point in trying? If Piotr had already found the place, there’d likely be nothing left of it. He’d have destroyed anything of value by now.
Some of the group had slept intermittently through sheer exhaustion, others lay awake for hours, too scared to close their eyes for even a second, listening to the world outside being battered by nature and to the guesthouse being swamped by both the floodwaters and the dead, all of it being mixed into a toxic soup.
It was still raining
