Lily was having a bad dream.

Samantha was woken by her tossing and turning, the feel of her small body squirming against her own. She put her arms around her and hugged her tight. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was dreaming of. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispered into her ear. “You're safe! You're safe! I've got you!” She repeated it over and over until the soothing sound of her voice filtered into her sleeping brain and the little girl began to settle down. Anger surged within Samantha again at the memory of what had been done to her daughter, and so great was her love and concern that what had been done to herself was all but forgotten. She was determined to have her revenge on those men one day, when normal society had been restored and the police had time to deal with such things, but it was for Lily she wanted revenge, not so much for herself.

“Bad dreams?” said Dave quietly. He and the other two men were lying on the other side of the tent. Ken and Briny were sharing a double sleeping bag, but they hadn't had sex that night out of consideration for the little girl. Samantha gathered that they took turns to be the one left out, which seemed to suit them very well. They were all still wearing their underwear, which she also gathered was for their benefit. She felt another wash of warmth for these men who had taken them in during their hour of need and who were showing such care for them.

“Our house burned down,” she replied quietly. That would do as an explanation. There was no need to tell them more than that. “We had a close thing getting out.”

“Poor little mite. They say they bounce right back, though, when they're that age. Give it a little while and she'll have forgotten all about it.”

Samantha doubted that, but she nodded anyway, forgetting that he couldn't see it in the darkness. Her face and arms, outside the blankets, were cold and she pulled the coarse, woollen cloth up around her and around Lily until only the tops of their heads were left outside. Lily snuggled her face into the side of her neck and fell back into a deep sleep. Samantha breathed in the scent of the little girl's hair and took comfort from it. They were safe. Lily was safe. She could sleep without fear.

She was woken again by the sound of one of the men climbing out of his sleeping bag and stepping outside the tent. Light was filtering in through the thin nylon of the tent fabric, and there was a wash of brighter light as he opened the tent flap to leave. There was a voice speaking from a loudspeaker somewhere. “George Kennedy, please report to the registration tent. Arthur Trent, please report to the registration tent. Jane Ross, please report to...” Lucky people, she thought. They must have had people coming here looking for them. Friends and relatives would be waiting to take them to spare rooms, or even garages, that would be hastily furnished to house them. She listened out for her own name, thinking that Neil Arndale might have come looking for her, but it didn't come. She might have missed it. She wondered how many people were being looked for, and how long it would take for the announcer to reach the end of the list and start again from the beginning.

She had an uncomfortably full bladder, but she lay there for a while longer until Lily woke naturally. They said sleep was healing, and she wanted her daughter to get as much of it as possible. Soon, though, all three men were up, and although they tried to be as quiet as possible they couldn't help but wake the little girl up. “Good morning,” she said to Samantha in a happy, cheerful voice.

“Good morning, Lily. How do you feel this morning?”

“Okay.”

“You two hungry?” asked Dave. All three men had dressed while their two guests had still had their heads down. They were wrapped up in several layers against the cold, outside air, and Samantha felt a great reluctance to leave the warmth of her blankets. Her bladder was calling more urgently, though, and no doubt Lily's was as well.

“Very,” she replied. “First things first, though. Where do we go to answer a call of nature?”

“The nearest portaloos are about fifty yards away, but there’s quite a queue. I'll go with you. Come on, lads, let's go outside while the ladies get dressed.”

“Time for a lift, anyway,” said Kev, who was rolling his own.

“Got any to spare?” asked Briny, staring disconsolately down at the few remaining scraps in his baccy pouch.

“Just about. Gonna have to see Joe later. He'll have put his prices up again. Bloody profiteer!” There was a blast of freezing air as they left the tent, and then Samantha and Lily were alone. “Come on, Lily. Time to get dressed.”

“Don’t want to. I'm warm here.”

“I know, but we've got to get up.” She threw the blankets back and shivered as the cold air hit her bare arms and legs. Lily threw her arms around her chest. Her breath was coming out in puffs of white vapour. Samantha picked up the oversized clothes they'd taken from their neighbour's house and began helping her into them.

An hour later they were back from the portaloos, feeling much more comfortable but still shuddering in disgust at the state of them. “I popped over to the food tent while you were in the queue,” said Kev, handing out foil covered slabs to each of them. “MRE’s. Meals ready to eat. oldier food. Bit bland, but it'll fill you up.”

“Still got a couple of pork pies if you fancy something a bit more savoury,” added Briny. He was still nursing the roll up he'd begged from Kev. He had to keep relighting it every time he wanted a puff, but that had the virtue of making it last longer.

“We can't impose upon your hospitality any longer,” said Samantha guiltily.

“No imposition,” said Briny, smiling and showing yellow teeth including an incisor that had a massive black cavity in the middle. “Glad to share. Right, lads?”

“Right!” agreed Dave. “Tuck in, Sam. You too, Lily.” He reached into a zip up bag and produced a paper bag from which he pulled two small pies. “Best Melton Mowbray. You won't find better.”

It was impossible to refuse without causing offence, so Samantha took them with a smile and a guilty thank you. Lily devoured hers with a bright smile that delighted the three men, though, and seeing how happy it made them, Samantha ate hers also. God, but we were lucky to meet these people, she thought. They were making what could have been a continuation of their nightmare almost into an adventure.

“We’re going to have to leave you now,” she then said. “I have to find a working bank terminal. All I need is a new card and I can buy a new phone, get in touch with friends. If one of you will come with me, I want to repay you for your kindness. With money, I mean!” She hurriedly added, feeling herself go red. The three men laughed uproariously.

“No need for that, right lads?’ said Dave. The others agreed with vigorous nods. “A good deed is its own reward. Just meeting you, getting to meet your lovely little girl, is reward enough! You go, get back to your life, and God bless you! We'll be going back to ours soon enough.”

“Right!’ agreed Briny. “Reckon there'll be a lot of rebuilding to be done. We'll probably hire ourselves on with a building firm. Get some money coming in. Enough to rent a room somewhere with plenty left over for dope! What more could you want from life, eh?”

“I just want to give you something to repay you for your kindness.”

“You just get the little girl somewhere safe,” said Dave, smiling. “Go find your friends, and the best of luck to you!”

Samantha hugged all three of them in turn and kissed them on the cheek. “Thank you so much! And good luck to you as well.”

Lily insisted on hugging them as well, getting them to lean down so she could wrap her little arms around their necks, and then the three men stood by their tent as Samantha and her daughter walked away. “If things don’t work out, you just come on back,” Dave called out after them. “We'll be here for another night or two at least, probably. Be glad to see you.”

“And if you don’t come back,” added Kev, “That'll mean it did work out for you, and that’ll make us glad as well. So we’ll be glad either way.”

“Yeah!” added Briny. “We're always happy. That's us, that is! Always happy!”

Samantha and Lily turned to wave back at them one last time, and then Samantha walked away, fixing her attention on the people around them. They were alone again now. Lily once again had no-one but her to protect her. She kept a tight grip on the little girl's hand, therefore, as they threaded their way past the tents and caravans and the milling crowds of dispossessed humanity.

She went to the registration tent first. The queue of people lining up was much smaller, but there were still people entering the refugee camp. People who, like her, had thought that they were safe, that they had no need to flee their homes but who had suffered some calamity or other. Earthquakes, perhaps. The ground still trembled now and then, even though the moon was beginning to move away from the Earth. She looked to the west, but the moon had finally dropped below the horizon, and when it returned in around twelve hours it would no longer be the giant it had been the day before. Gradually, over the next five or six days, it would shrink, until it was once again the size they were used to. The same apparent diameter of the sun. And then it would begin to grow again as it moved in for its next close approach.

At the other end of the tent was a young man with a microphone up in his hand, reading from a list of names and telling them to come here to meet the people who were looking for them. As she watched, a man with a young boy came forward to be met by another man who looked enough like him to be a brother. They embraced happily, and then the second man led his brother and his nephew to a waiting car. Samantha went forward to take his place.

“My name is Samantha Kumiko,” she said. “I was here yesterday, to register. I was wondering if anyone’s been asking after me.” She looked around, looking for Neil Arndale or any other face she recognised. There was a small crowd of relatives standing nearby, searching the crowds anxiously. One or two of them looked at her and Lily, but then they dismissed her from their attention and began searching the crowd again.

The man glanced up at her, then looked down at a tablet on the table in front of him. “Samantha, you say?” he said, tapping on the virtual keyboard.

“Kumiko,” Samantha replied, spelling it for him. He typed it in. “Sorry,” he said. “Nothing here.”

Samantha nodded in disappointment. “Well, thanks anyway,” she said. “Just thought it worth a try, you know?” He nodded sympathetically and went back to reading out names into the microphone.

Samantha led Lily out of the camp as the man's magnified voice called out the names of people lucky enough to have had people come here looking for them. She found herself getting very depressed. She'd thought she’d made lots of good friends in this country. People who cared about her, who would want to make sure she and Lily were all right. Where were they when she needed them? Of course, losing her phone hadn't helped. Losing your phone in the middle of the twenty first century was like losing your whole identity. And even if she’d still had it, it would have been impossible to use yesterday, with both the phone system and the internet totally clogged up with people phoning their friends and relatives to make sure they were okay. Even so, you'd have thought that someone would have gone from camp to camp looking for her. Surely one of her friends would have cared enough to make the effort. It made her wonder. Just how many friends did she really have? Fewer than she’d thought, that was for sure.

She was gloomy and depressed as she threaded her way past the police cars and ambulances at the edge of the camp, therefore, and headed out into the countryside towards the nearest large town.

☆☆☆

“This is the last one in the area,” said Stuart. “Every other refugee camp, she’d have had to go past one of these closer ones to get to it. No reason she'd do that.”

“If she went to a camp,” said Jessica. “She may be staying with a friend. She may have rented a room somewhere. With the phones down, there's no way to know.”

“The phones are more or less back now,” said Stuart, pulling his from a pocket and looking at the display on the screen. On a chance, he selected Samantha Kumiko’s number again and pressed the call button. A message popped up on the screen. The number you have called cannot be reached. He turned the phone off and put it back in his pocket.

“She lost it in the fire, maybe,” said Jessica. “Call Neil Arndale again. Maybe she borrowed a phone to call him.”

Stuart did so, and a short conversation later he turned the phone off again. “He still hasn't heard from her,” he said. He looked out the car window at the crowded refugee camp. “Oh well, let’s go see If she's here.”

The doors opened and they got out. “What if she's not here?” asked Jessica.

“I don't know. I’d hate to go back to Ben in defeat. It's a matter of pride now.”

Jessica laughed. “That is such a man thing to say.”

“I sense you don't mean that in a good way.”

“The poor woman is lost and alone out there somewhere, with a little girl to look after, but it’s your pride that’s at stake.”

“We don’t know she's lost and alone. Maybe she's safe and snug in a friend’s house enjoying a nice cup of tea while she watches soap operas on the telly.”

“Then why hasn’t she called Neil Arndale?”

“I assume she has other friends. People we don't know about.”

“Maybe. If she's not here we can ask some of her other work colleagues from Bristol University. Let's rule this place out first, though.” Stuart nodded and they walked towards the registration tent.

The same man was still reading out names into the microphone as they approached. He looked up at them. “We're looking for someone,” said Stuart. “Samantha Kumiko. Can you check to see if she's here?”

“Samantha Kumiko?” The man said, though. “Japanese looking woman, cute little girl?”

“That's her!” said Jessica excitedly. “You've seen her?”

“She was here just a few minutes ago! She was checking to see if anyone was looking for her.”

They both looked around at the thronging crowds of people, searching for a female Japanese face. “Do you know where she is now?” asked Stuart.

“She was leaving the camp. Heading into town, I assume. You just missed her.”

Stuart swore under his breath. “The nearest large town is Long Ashton. That must be where she's going.”

“If she's lost her phone, she'll probably be looking for a bank terminal,” added Jessica. She pulled her own phone from her pocket and pulled up a map. “Hmm. There's quite a lot. The nearest is just a few hundred metres from here.”

“Don't forget she doesn’t have a phone to look it up on.”

“No, but she's local to this area.”

“Even so, most people just use the one closest to their homes, when they need to use one at all. I'm guessing she'll head back to where she lives, lived, and stop at the first terminal she passes on the way. If she doesn't pass one, she'll use the one nearest to where her house was.”

“Dundry is closer, and it has a bank terminal.”

“Yeah, but it’d mean going in the opposite direction, away from where she used to live. And she may not know there’s a terminal there.”

They both looked at the map on Jessica's phone. “I'm guessing she'll take this route here,” said Stuart, tracing the road with his finger while being careful not to touch the screen. “It takes her along Weston Road. There are two terminals on that road alone.”

“And it takes her past Mole Street, which has a terminal on the corner, here. If she takes that route, that’ll be the terminal she ends up using.”

“Let's go then. If she's on foot, we should get there first.” They went back to their car, which opened its doors for them. They got in, and Stuart told it where to go.

☆☆☆

The small town of Dundry looked almost normal, thought Samantha as they strolled along its single large street. Cars were driving up and down it, people were strolling along the pavements, going in and out of the half dozen shops. The local supermarket was almost empty of food, she saw as they passed it. There were three or four people inside nonetheless, staring at the almost empty shelves as they tried to decide whether packets of dried cake mix might make a good dinner. There were homeless people all over the place. Sitting at bus stops and on the street's single bench. Standing in small groups in the town's large open space with its small decorative pond. People either too proud to go to one of the refugee camps or who had spent the night there and had decided to try their luck elsewhere during the daytime.

The bank terminal was working! she saw with excitement. There was a man standing by it, staring at the screen while he occasionally touched one or another of the buttons, shiny where the layer of paint that had covered them was almost worn away. Samantha went to stand behind him. The man ignored her and continued to use the terminal. He finished one operation and Samantha tensed up with excitement as she prepared to replace him before the screen, but the man pressed another button and began another operation. Samantha sighed with impatience and resigned herself to a short wait.

The informal protocols of polite society forbade her from looking at the screen to see what he was doing, but she was aware, a couple of minutes later, that he'd completed his second operation and begun a third. She gripped Lily’s hand tighter in frustration and took a step closer, hoping that the man would sense her proximity and realise that there was someone else waiting to use the machine. The man gave no sign that he was aware of her, though. “Don’t be impatient, Lily,” she said, a little louder than necessary. “We just have to wait, that’s all. He won't be long.” Lily stared up at her in puzzlement.

Finally, the man finished with the machine and moved away, giving Samantha a stern glare as he went. Samantha didn't care. She just went to stand before the screen in relief. Since there was no-one within earshot she pressed the button to activate the machine's voice control function. “My name is Samantha Kumiko. I am a customer with the Eastern Metro bank.”

“Please look at the iris scanner,” the machine replied. Samantha did so and the machine scanned her eye. “Identity confirmed,” it said. “Please select an operation.”

“I need a replacement bank card for account number two, two, zero, five, two, seven, three, one, six, one .”

“Acknowledged. Your existing card will be deactivated.”

“Thank you. Also, please deactivate my other cards and cancel all transactions made within the past twenty four hours.”

“There have been no transactions made in the past twenty four hours.” The criminals thought she was dead, Samantha thought. They didn't think there was a hurry to empty her account, and now they'd lost their chance. The thought gave her tremendous satisfaction. “Do you wish to contact the police and report the theft of your cards?”

“Yes please.” She doubted the police would be able to spare any resources to investigate her case any time soon, but there was no harm in setting things in motion.

“The theft of your cards has been reported to the local police. You have been assigned a case number which will be printed on your receipt.”

“Thank you.” A moment later a new card popped out of a slot in the side of the machine. Samantha snatched it up greedily and stared at it. Such a small thing, but so precious! She was no longer a penniless destitute! She now had money and resources! She could now begin to replace everything she’d lost, one thing at a time! Except the house itself, of course, but she was far from being the only person in that boat!

“Please load the card with five hundred pounds,” she said.

“Your account is already overdrawn by two hundred and seven pounds eleven pence.”

“I know,” said Samantha. All that food, the freezer and the generator she'd bought. All gone now. Stolen, or destroyed in the fire. She had an overdraft limit of two thousand pounds, though. It would be okay. “Please load my card with five hundred pounds.”

“Your card has been loaded with five hundred pounds. Your account is now overdrawn by seven hundred and seven pounds, eleven pence. Would you like to perform another operation?”

“No, thank you.” She tucked the card into an inside pocket and walked away, feeling better than she had at any time since the house invasion. Now she needed to buy a new phone. Almost all shops that weren't specialised for one particular product sold the most basic types, good only for talking to people and searching the internet, but that was all she wanted right now. She headed into the nearest shop, therefore, the local newsagents, and saw a selection on display on the rear wall. She picked out two. Cheap, plastic devices that looked as though they would last about a month before falling to pieces, but she could get better ones when her immediate problems were all behind her. She took them to the counter, paid for them with her card and walked out with them.

Outside the shop, she turned them on. Their batteries showed only twenty percent, they had probably been on display in the shop for about five years, but that would do. She was part of the world again! She was once again a member of twenty first century society! She copied each phone's number into the other's memory and then gave one to Lily. Just in case they got separated. Lily stared at it doubtfully, then tucked it into a pocket.

Okay, time to get back in touch with people. She couldn't remember Neil Arndale’s personal phone number so she called up Bristol University's website to get his work number. She dialled it, but only got a disconnected tone. She tried other people who worked at the university, getting their numbers from the University's website. Sandra Willoughby, John Paul Carné, Phil Wickham. No luck with any of them. The university must be completely closed down until they'd moved to new premises on higher ground, she thought in frustration. There was nothing else to do except keep trying numbers, though, so she worked her way through the university's entire staff until, finally, the phone was answered. Cliff Emery, a mathematician. She'd only met him once or twice during her entire time in Bristol but she seemed to remember that he wore spectacles. He refused eye surgery because it was against his religion. He was a Jehovah's witness or something. Right now, she wouldn't have cared if he sacrificed chickens to Satan.

“Yes?” said a soft, whispery voice. “Who is this?”

“Thank you for answering, Professor. My name is Samantha Kumiko. I was wondering whether you could put me in touch with Neil Arndale. Do you have his number?”

“His number? His private number, you mean? It would be quite inappropriate for me to give someone's private number to a complete stranger.”

“Fine, then get him to call me. Tell him it's Samantha Kumiko and that I urgently need his help. He can either call me or refuse as he chooses.”

“I suppose that would be alright. Very well, I'll call him right now.”

“Thank you. You're very...” The connection had already been cut, though. She took Lily's hand again, therefore, and led her away, looking for something to sit on. Might as well be comfortable while they were waiting.

There were no available seats, though. The bus stop was full of homeless refugees and so was the tea shop, even though there was no food for sale inside. She just walked, therefore, while mentally willing the phone to ring. She passed right through the town and out into the countryside on the other side. There was a larger town up ahead. Maybe there would be a shop with some food in it.

The high tide had finally fallen, she saw. As she walked down a gentle slope she saw sand and seaweed left high and dry on the road. There was also a small boat in someone's garden, she saw. Sitting neatly on the grass and lying at a slight angle so that the mast was leaning against the house's bay window. Looking through the window, she could see that the front room had been ruined by sea water. The carpet was still soaked and the walls were wet up to a height of nearly a metre. There were rectangles of lighter wallpaper on the walls where a television and the speakers of a sound system had been removed, though. They would be safe somewhere, ready for when the family found a new home on higher ground.

Another house had been broken into, and as she passed she saw homeless refugees inside, sitting on the wooden furniture. They glared suspiciously at her as she passed, and Samantha suddenly decided that this wasn't an area she wanted to be in. One rape was enough for a lifetime, and she had to think of Lily as well. She turned around and headed back the way she’d come, therefore. At least the small town was safe. Real life was still going on there. Law and order survived. She hurried, eager to put the recently flooded region behind her, along with the lawless, desperate people it contained.

She'd forgotten about the phone, and so was surprised when it rang. She snatched it from her pocket, her heart hammering with excitement, and pressed the answer button. “Hello!” she said, almost laughing with relief.

“Sam?” It was Neil Arndale’s voice. She almost kissed the phone in delight. “Is that you?”

“Neil! Thank God! It's so good to hear your voice!”

“What is it Sam? What's wrong?”

Samantha gave him a brief summary of her recent adventures, leaving out the rape and Lily's bondage. There’s be time to open that can of worms later. Right now, she just needed Neil to know that she was homeless. “I hate to impose on you, Neil, but I’ve literally got no-one else to turn to.”

“No, that’s fine, Sam. I'm glad you called. Tell me where you are and I’ll come over and pick you up.”

Samantha looked for a street sign. “I'm on Hartcliffe Road, just north of Dundry. I'm heading back into Dundry now. I’ll be in the village green.”

“I'm on my way. Oh by the way, do you know anyone by the name of Stuart Kerr?”

“No, who is he?”

“He's been phoning me repeatedly, looking for you. He says he’s with a group of scientists who need your knowledge of the moon.”

Samantha laughed bitterly. “My knowledge of the moon is obsolete. The whole moon is melting.”

“Well, can I give you his phone number? You can talk to him while you’re waiting for me.”

“Okay. And thanks again, Neil. I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you.”

“No worries, Sam. I'm on my way.”