Hater

the morning I might risk taking a car for speed. I feel strong and calm and I'm prepared to walk the rest of the way but I'll be quicker driving, albeit much more exposed and vulnerable. It doesn't seem to matter now. What I'm doing feels so right. The life I've left behind seems more alien and unnatural with each passing minute. I wouldn't go back to it now, even if I had the choice. I just wish that Lizzie, Edward and Josh could be like Ellis and me.
    There's more noise outside. It's early in the morning - two or three o'clock I think - and there's a constant stream of sound coming from the middle of town. I can hear more trucks and helicopters. More patrols flushing people out. Whatever happens tomorrow I know I'll have to leave here. I don't want to stay in one place for too long. I'll keep moving until I find Ellis and then, when I've got her back, we'll run together. We'll find somewhere safe where there are more people like us, well away from those that hate us. And if we can't find anywhere safe then we'll kill and destroy as many of them as we have to. It's like the man said, we have to kill them before they kill us.
    I'll sleep now and make my move at first light.

SATURDAY
37

    'Get out!' a terrified voice screams over a god-awful noise. 'For Christ's sake, get out of here!'
    I sit up quickly. My body aches from sleeping on the bare floorboards. The half-built house is filled with a deafening thumping sound. I run to the window and push my face against the grey metal grille, desperate to see outside. There's a helicopter hovering nearby. It's not directly over the building site but it's close enough and I know that it's people like us they're looking for. I look around and see that I'm alone. Patrick's gone but his stuff is still here.
    Shit. There's a truck at the end of the gravel track and soldiers are already piling out of the back of it and running towards these houses. I have to move. I grab my bag and head for the door. I can hear a loudhailer outside, someone shouting a warning about standing still and not moving and… gun fire. I run back to the window and look down again and now I can see Craig face down in a puddle of mud, a rifle-wielding soldier standing over his fallen bulk with his still smoking gun aimed at the back of his head. I can see Patrick and Nancy too, both trying to get away. More troops swarm around them quickly, cutting off their escape route as another truck arrives.
    I have to get away from here. Maybe I could get up into the loft space and hide or should I just try and make a run for it? Is it too high to jump down from one of the windows up here? I can't allow myself to get caught. I have to get out of here and get Ellis. Now I can hear footsteps downstairs. Loud, heavy, clunking footsteps. Christ, they probably already know I'm up here. I run towards one of the smaller back rooms and meet a masked soldier coming the other way. I try to push past him but the fucker punches me in the face and before I can react I'm flat on my back looking up at the ceiling. I try to stand up but rough hands grab my arms and I'm dragged downstairs. There's no point fighting I think as I try not to panic. My only option now is to wait until I'm outside and then try to run. But then I think of that poor bastard Craig, face down, riddled with bullets. Co-operate with them I decide, despite the fact that every single nerve, sinew and fibre of my body wants to fight these animals and destroy them.
    I'm dragged through the hallway and kitchen and then out of the building. They shove me towards the truck where Nancy and Patrick stand trembling. I trip and fall to my knees in the mud close to Patrick's feet.
    'Get up!' one of the soldiers screams in my ear and a hand grabs me by the scruff of my neck and pulls me up. Patrick looks at me. I see desperation, terror and frustration in his frightened eyes.
    What now, I think to myself? Come on, if you're going to kill me just do it. Let's get it over with. There are guns pointed at us, but surely they'd have shot us by now if they were going to? I look up at the nearest soldier. A dark visor obscures his eyes but I can sense the hate coming off him like the stench of decay. Two more uniformed figures emerge from the front of the first truck and walk towards us. One of them is carrying one of the flat computers I've seen them using before. The other has a smaller electronic device held in one hand. I can't see what it is. They move quickly. One of them