The Darkest Hour

I'm Not A Stalker

Zeb swore under his breath as he ducked behind a large hedge that was mercifully in his path. He hadn't meant to scare her and send her running like a bat out of hell. It was this stupid, hacking cough that seemed to want to rip out his throat and crack his ribs.

He watched as she flew down the street, glancing over her shoulder every so often, her curly hair flying behind her, illuminated by each street light she raced under.

Then she turned abruptly into a garden, and Zeb sighed, rolling his eyes. Stupid girl. If she'd had someone following her that really had bad intentions, she would have just given away exactly where to find her. He faintly heard a door close and shrugged. At least she was home safely. After all, wasn't that why he'd followed her?

When he'd embarrassed himself in McDonald's earlier, he could tell that she wanted to help him, and it had just made the whole situation even worse. She'd been about to start blubbing and he cringed just thinking about it. Having some kid pity you because you didn't even have two pounds to pay for your crappy little meal at a fast food place wasn't exactly high on his list.

He'd been such an idiot, risking everything for a wallet that contained a fiver, a blood donor card and a few coppers. It'd long been thrown away in disgust, but as soon as he had the money, Zeb had felt hungrier than ever before. He'd spent some of it on stuff he could eat over the next few days, and then for some unknown reason had decided to go and find that girl from the other night.

It had occurred that he could try and wheedle more from her, but his pride had chosen to become an obstacle. Instead, he'd resolved to go in there and show her that he could take care of himself and at the same time he'd be able to kind of pay her back for the free food. He knew it was ridiculous, considering that he wasn't required to prove himself to her, and that he would be paying with stolen money anyway.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, though, until he ended up looking like a plank in front of her and what seemed like half of London.

He'd been about to get up from the steps on which he'd sat to eat his pathetic burger when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of that red hair disappearing down the street. Immediately, he was confused. Why was there no one here to pick her up? He knew the tube station was a fair walk away, and the buses were almost deserted this time of night. She didn't even look like the kind of girl who should be in this part of town, let alone walking around in the dark.

She was on the phone to someone, and he'd observed as she walked right past the bus stop, and away from the direction of the train station.

Zeb had hesitated. It wasn't his problem, or his business, he'd reasoned. But another glance made him realise he didn't want to see her turn up missing on the front page of tomorrow's paper. Surely she couldn't live too far away. He'd follow her discreetly and make sure she got home ok, and then karma or whatever would be restored.

And here he was, 40 minutes later, shaking with the cold, fatigued and still hungry, with no clue how he'd make the walk back to the shelter he'd been counting on tonight. It'd probably be closed, even if he did. Zeb groaned aloud. That stupid little girl. Why should he care if she chose to risk her life walking around the streets at night?

But he knew why. He'd experienced first hand some of the creeps and perverts that wandered around at night and had often shuddered to imagine what they would have done to him if he had been a small, skinny girl.

Good job, Zeb, his mind sarcastically supplied, now that you're finished playing the hero, would you like to figure out where you're going to sleep tonight?

Zeb rubbed his forehead with his palm. Great. He had a headache, and it felt like he might be about to come down with some bug. He had to get his head down somewhere that wasn't damp and cold. His fingers were painful from the bitter air, and the wind seemed to pierce right through his skin. He had to keep moving. Maybe there'd be some public toilets or something up ahead. He'd slept in awful ones, but at least they'd be posh around here.