One of the kids saw me approaching and began jumping up and down, tugging at the skirt of the woman closest to him and pointing in my direction. They all started waving, the two boy twins and some others even running forward to meet me. Cissie stayed where she was though. She was unmistakable in her new blue frock, one hand raised in greeting, the other on her hip. Even from the truck I could see she was smiling.
I passed the battered Houses of Parliament, Big Ben tall and looming, and carefully drew the vehicle to a halt, wary of the kids rushing forward in their excitement.
‘You ready?’ I called from the open window, returning Cissie’s smile.
‘It’s done?’ she said in reply.
‘Can’t you see?’ My thumb indicated the huge cloud of smoke darkening the horizon behind me.
She nodded. ‘I hope it burns the whole city. We don’t need London any more.’
The women, helped by the two men, were already lifting the children into the back of the truck.
‘Sit up front?’ I asked Cissie.
She strolled over and opened the passenger door. The sun was behind her, shadowing her face as she leaned in, but I could still see the whiteness of her smile, the fine little scar running across her nose. She climbed up, flopping purposely into the seat beside me.
‘You needed to ask?’ she said.
‘Guess not,’ I replied. ‘Ready to roll?’
She banged on the screen behind us. ‘Everybody set?’ she called.
A chorus of yeses came back, followed by a few muffled giggles.
‘We’re ready,’ Cissie declared. She looked ahead through the dusty windshield. ‘I always fancied the Surrey hills.’
‘I always liked the sea.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Not one bit There’re plenty out there just like us.’
I pushed the stiff lever into gear and pulled the truck away from the kerbside – funny how they’d all been waiting safely out of the road – and we rolled onto the bridge. As ever, the river beneath us was silver with specks of dazzling gold.
For no particular reason – old habits again? – I glanced into my wing mirror and my foot almost slipped off the accelerator. Without saying anything to Cissie, I stuck my head out the window, looking back. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for at first, it seemed so, well, so out of place. Then I grinned. It was, it really was.
The zebra – yeah, four legs and a whole lot of black and white stripes – was ambling across the broad road some distance behind us, heading, I figured, for the overgrown green in Parliament Square. I ducked back inside the cab again, just in time to swerve round a Ford parked in the very middle of the bridge.
‘What are you grinning at, Hoke?’ Cissie was still smiling herself.
‘Nothing,’ I told her. ‘Nothing at all.’
And maybe that zebra was nothing. It set me thinking though. And hoping too. Although I had no idea what I was hoping for.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
‘48 required a great deal of research into World War II and conditions in London around that time. Where possible, I’ve stuck to the facts, but in instances such as the escape along the Tube line between Holborn and the Aldwych, which was in truth closed down during the war years, I’ve allowed the story to stretch the actuality. There also appears to be some confusion between the experts as to whether trams were allowed to run through the tunnel beneath Kingsway during those dangerous years, so again I’ve opted for artistic licence (or not, whichever the case may be). Most other details should be accurate, but please forgive any mistakes I’m bound to have made and certain elaborations used for the sake of dramatization.
JAMES HERBERT
Sussex, 1996
About the Author
JAMES HERBERT
James Herbert is not just Britain’s No.1 best-selling writer of chiller fiction, a position he has held since the publication of his first novel, but he is one of our greatest popular novelists, whose books are sold in thirty-five other languages, including Russian and Chinese. Widely imitated and hugely influential, his twenty novels have sold more than fifty million copies worldwide.
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Also by James Herbert
The Rats
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The Survivor
Fluke
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The Jonah
Shrine
Domain
Moon
The Magic Cottage
Sepulchre
Haunted
Creed
Portent
‘48
Others
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Nobody True
The Secret of Crickley Hall
Preview
‘Relentless action…based on the presumption that the V-2 rockets which fell on London contained biological warfare devices. Three years later, most of the population is dying from an agent that makes the blood clot in the body.
It falls to an American pilot to save the day in a cat-and-mouse game played out in luscious locations, from a deserted Buckingham Palace to the Savoy Hotel and the top of Tower Bridge.’
The Times
‘A highly recommended inventive and fast-paced chiller from one of Britain’s most popular novelists.’
Publishing News
‘He’s back, and he’s back on top form. Great stuff. Vintage Herbert.’
Exeter Express & Echo
‘Another success story…a truly terrifying urban nightmare. It would be unfair to classify James Herbert as purely a horror writer. His writing does, when necessary, shock, but his books are much more than providers of cheap thrills. He’s a highly skilled storyteller who knows how to grip his reader from start to finish and all points in between.’
Brighton Evening Argus
‘Unlike his rivals, Herbert hasn’t been afraid to chop and change, adding action-adventurism to his portfolio…Another surefire winner.’
Birmingham Evening Mail
‘Raw power and confident storytelling…writing with his most powerful and disquieting voice for years, Herbert establishes with crucial authenticity this alternate England, piled high with decomposed bodies and littered with bedraggled survivors. Herbert is in total command of his craft…there’s terror to be had from man’s inhumanity to man, a theme that infects ‘48 like the deadly virus it so devastatingly describes.’
SFX
‘James Herbert’s chilling look at what-might-have-been has all the hallmarks of another bestseller…a nail-biting climax.’
Peterborough Evening Telegraph
‘The breathtaking, action-filled new novel from the British master of horror fiction. It’s a gripping read…set in and around familiar London landmarks and interweaving fact and fantasy. Herbert has created a mythology out of the Second World War which succeeds in blurring the edges of real historical events and his apocalyptic vision. Read it quick – highly recommended.’
Moonlight Fables
‘Action-packed, fast-moving and a gripping read…a breathtaking climax on Tower Bridge.’
Cardiff Western Mail
‘Gripping, well-plotted, excellent stuff.’
Northern Echo
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Harper
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First published in Great Britain by
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Copyright © James Herbert 1996
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EPub Edition © MARCH 2010 ISBN: 978-0-007-36947-8
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James Herbert, '48
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