Chapters (81)
- Contents
- Books by Charlie Higson
- Praise for Charlie Higson’s writing:
- ST GEORGE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- THE HUNTER
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- 19 DAYS EARLIER
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- THE RACES
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- CLOSING
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Follow Penguin
- THE BEGINNING
- PENGUIN BOOKS
‘No,’ said Amelia and she slowly shook her head. ‘It wasn’t that. It would have been easier to deal with if it had been. We’d have known what it was. And we had no idea. It was a peculiar disease, like nothing any of us had ever encountered before. It came from nowhere, appeared overnight in a fully virulent form. And it seemed choosy – the young were spared, anyone under the age of fifteen, and the very old.’
‘That’s news to me,’ said Kyle, shifting uneasily in his seat.
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Amelia. ‘When the world went to pieces, the old were vulnerable. No one to look after them, easy prey for looters and house invaders. Most were simply killed. In the fog of war it was hard to see what was going on.’
‘Maybe you’re right,’ said Kyle. ‘I had some grand-parents living in Wood Green. Lost touch with them when it all kicked off.’
‘You’re saying older people aren’t affected by the disease?’ Ed asked.
‘Yes. People in their late eighties and over do not seem to have been affected. Several of us here are over ninety, and three are over a hundred. It passed us by. Why?’
‘Do you know why?’ asked Lewis.
‘We had theories. Perhaps old people had some degree of natural immunity to it, from some past infection. But that didn’t explain why no young people got it. Perhaps it only bothered with people who were strong enough to carry it. But that would assume that the disease had a degree of intelligence. Which is impossible. Or so we thought. Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself.’ She gave a stern look to Kyle which softened into a smile.
‘You interrupted me,’ she said. ‘Got me off the subject. An old schoolboy trick.’
‘Sorry.’
‘As I was saying,’ Amelia went on, ‘I worked for the government during the war, doing my patriotic bit, and after that I moved around. I worked in Germany for a period, and America. For a few years I was at the Courtauld Institute of Biochemistry at Middlesex Hospital. I was even on the Board of Health for a spell … Oh, you don’t need to know all this. Just listen to me! I’m a typical rambling old person, showing off how much I can still remember. Suffice to say, I spent my entire adult life researching diseases and the beautiful mysteries of the human body.
‘And thirty years ago I retired, although I remained on various boards and charities and health advisory committees. And I got old. And I thought my usefulness was over. Apart from looking after Dorothy here.’ She touched her sister’s hand and she smiled back at her.