Autumn

‘Convince me,’ Michael said as he took his coffee from Emma. ‘Just how much have you thought about this?’

For a second Carl was angry, feeling that Michael was patronising him. But then he decided that he sounded as if he was at least going to listen to what he had to say.

‘I’ve thought long and hard about it,’ he replied, ‘this isn’t something that I’ve just decided to do on a whim.’

‘So what’s your plan?’

‘Get back to Northwich and try and get to the community centre. See who’s still there…’

‘And then?’

‘And then find somewhere secure to base myself.’

‘But you said you didn’t want to lock yourself away and hide. Aren’t you just going to be doing that somewhere else instead of here?’ Emma asked.

‘There’s a council works depot between the community centre and where I used to live. There’s a bloody ten foot wall right the way around it. Once we’re in there we’re safe. There’s trucks and all kinds of things there.’

‘How you going to get in?’

‘I’ll get in.’

‘And what if there’s no-one at the Community Centre?’

‘I’ll keep going to the depot on my own.’

Michael stopped asking questions and sat and thought for a few seconds.

‘So when were you thinking of going?’ he wondered.

‘We’ve got to go out for supplies at some point in the next few days,’ Carl answered. ‘I figured I’d try and get some transport while we were away from the house and then I’ll take it from there.’

‘We could go and get supplies today,’ Michael said, surprising Emma who looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief on her face.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ she hissed at him. ‘Christ, are you thinking of going too?’

Michael shook his head.

‘Seems to me that you’re going to go whatever we try and say or do to stop you.’

Carl nodded.

‘I’d go now if I could.’

‘Then there doesn’t seem to be any point in Emma or I wasting our time trying to convince you that you’re making a mistake.’

‘I don’t think I am. You are right though, you’d be wasting your time.’

‘And if we try and stop you leaving we’ll probably end up beating the crap out of each other and the net result will still be that you leave. Am I right?’

‘You’re right.’

He turned to face Emma.

‘So we don’t have a lot of choice, do we?’

‘But, Mike, he’ll end up dead. He won’t last five minutes out there.’

Michael sighed and watched Carl disappear into the store room.

‘That’s not our problem,’ he said. ‘Our priority is to keep ourselves safe, and if that means that Carl leaves then Carl leaves. Think of him as a homing pigeon. We send him on his way today and, with a little luck, if things don’t work out he’ll bring the rest of the survivors from Northwich back here with him if he manages to find them.’

Emma nodded. She understood everything he said but still found it hard to accept.

‘He’s a stupid fucking idiot,’ she hissed under her breath.

33

Once it had been accepted that Carl’s leaving for the city was inevitable the survivors quickly forced themselves into action. He was keen to get away as quickly as he could and Michael and Emma were keen to make the most of having him around. A trip away from the house was essential to all of them whether they were staying or going. Having three pairs of hands instead of two meant that theoretically Michael and Emma could collect more supplies and so defer their next excursion for a few precious days and hours longer.

On a cold and wet Sunday morning they returned to Pe

Michael had parked close to a small supermarket. Once the crowds around the van had dispersed Emma carefully opened the van door nearest to the building and quietly disappeared inside. While Michael and Carl began their search for alternative transport she collected as many tins of food and other non-perishable supplies as she could find and loaded them into the back of the van. Each movement she made was slow and considered. Every step was carefully co-ordinated so that she remained silent and out of sight of the rest of the world.

There were two large garages near to the supermarket. Michael quickly found a Landrover that suited his needs and set about finding the keys from the office and ensuring that the tank was filled with petrol. He siphoned extra fuel from other vehicles scattered around the forecourt and loaded them into the back of his new transport in metal cans. As he worked he watched the occasional body stagger by. He was sure that one or two of them saw him. He guessed that they were used to seeing bodies moving and that their rotting brains were not been able to distinguish between him and the millions of other sickly bodies still dragging themselves along the silent streets. Sound still seemed to be their main stimulus.

By chance Carl stumbled across the perfect machine to get him to the city. In a dark and narrow alley between two shops he found a motorbike. It looked well maintained and powerful and, although his experience of riding motorbikes was limited, he knew that it would be ideal. It would give him far more speed and manoeuvrability than any four-wheeled vehicle could. He found the keys to the bike in the pocket of a leather-clad corpse nearby. With trepidation (but understanding the need for protection and not having the time or inclination to look elsewhere) he then stripped the leathers from the decaying body and gingerly removed its helmet. The head of the cadaver was withered and light and the flesh unexpectedly dry and discoloured. Not daring to start the engine, he released the brake and pushed the bike back to the supermarket where Emma and Michael waited anxiously for him.

Emma climbed into the driver’s seat of the van as he approached, keen to get away.

‘Got this,’ he whispered. ‘Should do me.’

She nodded but did not say anything. The reasons for her silence were twofold. Primarily she didn’t want to attract the attention of any body wandering nearby but, also, she didn’t have anything she wanted to say to Carl. As the morning had progressed she had silently become more and more incensed by his selfish intentions. Not only did she think he was a fool for even thinking about going back to the city, but she also decided that he was a weak and uncaring bastard for leaving her and Michael. Three was a safe number – if one of them was injured then the other two could help. Left alone with Michael, she knew that they would be in serious trouble if anything happened to either of them. And the chances of Carl surviving on his own in an accident were next to nil. By leaving he was putting them all at risk.

‘What do you think of this?’ Carl whispered to Michael as he returned to the van. Michael couldn’t even pretend to be interested in either the bike or Carl. He grunted in resentful acknowledgement.

‘Ready to get going?’ he then asked, clearly directing his question towards Emma. She nodded.

‘I’m ready.’

‘I’ve found a Landrover,’ he continued. ‘You start the van up and I’ll try and get it going. If it works I’ll lead, if not get ready to let me back inside.’

She nodded again. Her throat was dry and her heart had started to thump in her chest. She knew that as soon as they started the first engine they would be engulfed by bodies.