Autumn exodus, p.18
Autumn - Exodus, page 18
‘Go and find another one, I guess,’ she replied, confused.
‘And if I put my boot through that one?’
‘Then I’ll ask you to stop coming around to our house.’
Light laughter circled the group. ‘Good answer! But what if all the TVs are gone, what then? Or what about cars? We get a flat tyre right now and we can find a replacement, but what happens when we can’t? Or when all the petrol has been used up or evaporated?’
‘Electric cars?’ she suggested. ‘Scooters?’
‘Different issues, same problems. You can see what I’m saying, can’t you?’
‘You’ve lost me completely,’ Noah admitted.
‘I’m saying that right now, we’re suspended in a bit of a grace period. We’re going to have to get used to living without all this stuff sooner or later, so why not start sooner? Selena, I hope with all my heart that you’ve got a long life ahead of you, and I think we owe it to you and the rest of you youngsters to give you the best possible start. From where I’m standing, I think that means leaving here and shooting for Ledsey Cross.’
31
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN
December thirtieth. There’d been some talk of waiting until the first of January, but what was the point? The dawn of a new year meant nothing anymore, if it ever really had. The arbitrary position of the planet in its journey around the sun today was of no more or less importance than its position this time last week or next. No one yet had any thought of abandoning the calendar altogether or starting again from Year Zero, nothing like that. It was still going to be important to keep track of the days, weeks, and months so they could use the seasons, as people always had, to keep themselves safe, warm, and fed. But as the events of last week had proved beyond doubt, for the most part, anniversaries and other previously significant dates counted for nothing anymore.
Sam had expected a uniformly negative response when they announced their intention to leave, but it wasn’t as clear cut as that. Some people were quick to voice their opposition, while a handful of others wanted to come along, and many were as yet undecided. Some of the most vocal critics gave themselves away, the strength of their reactions saying much more about their own desires and insecurities than logical reasoning. Most of the villagers, though, were indifferent: they were already home, no need to search further. Sam was happy with that. Better to leave on good terms. He knew there was every chance they might be back here before long.
Vicky, Selena, Ruth, David, Sanjay, Orla, Joanne, and Lisa were a tight unit, having made it through the journey from the centre of London to Yaxley together. Omar was keen to go wherever Sam went. Other, newer recruits were also keen to come along: Noah, Ollie, Mia, and Callum from Brentwood, none of whom felt like ready to put down roots and had no special attachment to the village. But the biggest surprise was Marcus. Ed was loath to lose his skills and experience, but he couldn’t be persuaded to stay. Piotr had torched his house as a distraction. He’d lost everything the first time on that Tuesday morning in September, and after working so hard to rebuild some semblance of a life, he’d lost it all again in the fire last week. He felt the urge to move on; there was little anything keeping him here.
Thirteen adults, along with Omar and Selena (who felt like neither adults nor kids at times), were ready to set out. They took enough supplies to see them good for a few days and loaded everything into one of the army trucks. A handful would travel in the truck, the rest in a comfortable minibus they’d procured from a local dealership. Simon, a mechanic who’d originally lived in Peterborough, fitted the truck with a makeshift plough to help clear crap from the road.
As the last odds and ends were loaded up and people said their goodbyes, Sam walked over to speak to David. He was standing on his own, staring into the distance. ‘Are we being really stupid here, Dave? Are we selfish or naïve or...?’
‘No, absolutely not,’ David said without hesitation. ‘They don’t need us here. Chapman and Ed will have this place running like clockwork between them.’
‘Likely so.’
‘And it’s like we’ve already said, it doesn’t have to be as final as it feels. If things don’t work out, we come back. And if things do work out, they can come to us. Things are changing, I can feel it. The world’s a blank sheet of paper today, Sam.’
‘It certainly looks that way, I’ll give you that.’
A dusting of snow had fallen during the night. Nothing too heavy, just enough to settle and leave a light covering over everything. It hid the ruination and made the world look deceptively peaceful and unspoilt.
‘Should be a good day for travelling,’ Ed said. ‘Simon’s given both vehicles a thorough check over. He’s fuelled them up and left you with spares in case you hit any problems.’
David nodded. ‘I appreciate it, Ed. And you mean when we hit problems.’
Ed laughed. ‘Your words, mate. Just take it easy, won’t you. The temperature’s still dropping. I was out in the fields earlier; it’s making quite a difference to the dead already.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘They’re all seized up with the cold. It’s like they’re on a time delay.’
‘That’s good,’ Sam said. ‘It’s what we hoped would happen. Their body temperature is ambient. If everything around them freezes, they should too.’
Ed agreed. ‘A few degrees lower and they’ll freeze solid. I reckon they’ll shatter if you hit them.’
‘Just when I think this world can’t get any more surreal,’ David said, smiling to himself. ‘A year ago, they were normal folks like us. Now look at them.’
‘Take advantage of the conditions, that’s all I ask. They’re constantly changing, and I wouldn’t like to predict what’s coming next.’
‘Humour me and try,’ David said. ‘You’ve interacted with the dead more than anyone else I’ve come across. What do you think’s going to happen?’
Ed hesitated. ‘Nah. You’ll take the piss if I tell you.’
‘Go on then. I’m all ears.’
‘It’s hard to explain; it’s more a feeling I have than anything else. All I know is I started by knocking seven shades of shit out of them in the early days, but I don’t do that so much now.’
He stopped again, clearly uncertain.
‘What happened to make you change your approach?’ Sam asked.
Ed shrugged. ‘This is the crazy part. When I showed them a bit of respect, they responded, seemed to, anyway. When I’ve been close to them recently, I’ve started to think that they’re watching me as closely as I’m watching them. I think, mind you, this is only a guess, but I think they’re starting to remember what they were. Who they were. It’s like the panic’s died down, and now they’re looking for answers, just the same as we are.’
‘I’d like to say that changes everything, but the hard truth is they’ll be gone in a few months.’
‘No doubt. But a lot can happen between now and then. Right now, they’re all still operating individually, but imagine if they start to communicate. Imagine if they start to plan? Don’t forget, we’re still massively outnumbered.’
32
The desolation once they’d left the village felt never-ending. They’d been driving for hours, but it felt like days. The entire world appeared frozen, theirs the only signs of life. Occasionally they caught glimpses of the dead, but they were only glimpses, never anything more. Largely indistinguishable from their surroundings, the iced-up corpses juddered and shook when the vehicles passed, trying to turn to follow the noise, fighting a losing battle against the frost.
Other than its effect on the undead, the snow was another hinderance. The covering of unspoilt white disguised distances and camouflaged everything. Behind the wheel of the truck, Sanjay found it harder than expected to keep to the roads because they’d all but disappeared. He could no longer see the kerb and instead had to rely on the position of streetlamps and signs to help him make out the route. The plough helped, but to a very limited extent, clearing only directly in front of him. He drove at a far slower speed than he’d have liked. ‘Maybe we should have left it a few more days,’ he said, and he looked up into the heavy sky. The clouds were so low it was as if he could reach out of the cab and grab them.
‘There was no point delaying this,’ David said. ‘We could have found enough excuses to put it off forever if we’d tried. No time like the present, you know? Leaving was the logical step.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ he said, because he was far from sure that was the case. ‘It’s hardly been plain sailing so far. We had enough grief getting from London to Yaxley. We’ve got to go twice that distance again to get to Ledsey Cross.’
‘We’re not on foot though, are we. And we’ve made pretty good progress, according to the map. Anyway, we might not have to go that far.’
‘Don’t you think?’
‘I’m not about to get into another argument with Vicky, but as far as I’m concerned, if we find somewhere closer that ticks all our boxes, we won’t need to go all the way to Yorkshire. I’m worried how things will be when we get close to Manchester and Leeds. If we can stop before we get that far north, I’d be happy. Maybe head west, towards Wales?’
‘You think she’ll stand for that?’
‘Being perfectly honest with you, Sanj, there’s a part of me thinks she’s not going to make it whatever. She’s in a really bad way. Between us, I don’t think she’s got long left.’
#
It was easier to follow than to lead. Sam steered the minibus along the tracks left by the truck, scraped clear of snow and ice. Inside the minibus, it was alternately too quiet then too loud. It played havoc with Sam’s concentration. The silence would get too much, too much space for him to think, then Omar would piss someone off in the back or say something he shouldn’t, and the resulting noise would have him praying for quiet again.
Joanne sensed his frustration and did what she could to keep him occupied. ‘I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S.’
‘Snow,’ he said without hesitation.
‘Nope.’
‘Sky.’
‘Nope.’
‘Sun?’
‘You can’t actually see the sun for the clouds.’
‘No, but you still know it’s there.’
‘I know the bloody Swedish flag’s out there too, don’t I. Wrong answer.’
‘I give up. I hate this game.’
‘Signpost,’ she said.
‘Where?’
‘Back there. And there’s bound to be another one up ahead somewhere.’
‘That’s not how it works either.’
‘Oh, so you hate the game but now you’re going to argue about the rules? Poor loser, you.’
‘I didn’t lose. I quit. There’s a difference.’
‘Not from where I’m sitting.’
Joanne put her feet up on the dash and watched Sam. He felt her eyes on him but kept his gaze fixed firmly forward. ‘Problem?’
‘No problem,’ she said. ‘Just trying to work you out.’
‘You can’t. I’m an enigma.’
‘You’re an arsehole, I know that much.’
‘Thanks. Anyway, we’ve got more important things to be worrying about than me.’
‘Who said I was worrying?’
‘What then?’
‘Like I said, I’m just trying to work you out.’
‘What for?’
‘Because I like you, you know that. When we were back in John Kennedy Tower, you didn’t say anything about what you’d done. It was only later, when I met Vicky, that she told me about you crashing your bus to give your friends a better chance of staying alive.’
‘I don’t like to go on about stuff like that,’ he said, embarrassed.
‘I can tell. And then I was talking to David once we’d got away from the Tower of London, and he was telling me about how you were this great eco-warrior.’
‘Hardly.’
‘It was something you were passionate about, though.’
‘I can’t deny that.’
‘So now you’ve gone from Save the Planet to Save the People?’
‘If you say so. Look, what’s all this about? How would you feel if I started asking you loads of personal questions?’
‘Pretty good, actually. I’d like us to get to know each other better.’
Sam struggled to stay focused. The conversation felt uncomfortable, unnatural. There’d been no time or desire for closeness and relationships since the world had fallen apart. Was it too soon? Should he respond or just try and force a change of subject? He’d always liked Joanne, but since they’d been able to spend those few quiet days together in Yaxley before Christmas, he’d started to wonder whether there might be a chance that the two of them could—
‘Jesus Christ,’ he said, and he wrenched the wheel hard left. Immediately ahead, Sanjay had swerved off the road. ‘What the hell’s he doing?’
‘Concentrate, Sam,’ Lisa shouted from the back. ‘He was indicating. You just weren’t watching. Too busy chatting up Joanne.’
Guilty as charged, he took the criticism on the chin. He said nothing, just put it down to tiredness and nerves. He needed to stop, and when he pulled up next to the truck and looked around, he realised that was what Sanjay had decided too.
They’d parked up outside a decent-sized pub. It looked like an ideal place to pause for a pitstop. There was a reassuring lack of snow-dusted, human-shaped mounds in the otherwise unspoilt carpark. A fuel station a couple hundred metres further down the road was a potential source of additional food and fuel. Perhaps they’d been serving breakfast at the pub; there were a handful of corpses at the windows, reacting to the engine noise. It was nothing they couldn’t handle. Sam’s stomach growled at the memory of a full English fry-up.
When the engines were switched off, other than the crunching of the ice under their boots, there was an all-consuming silence that suffocated everything. It felt fragile. No one wanted to be the one who disturbed it.
A semi-frozen cadaver dragged itself across the carpark painfully slowly, pivoting on inflexible legs. Ruth waited patiently then dealt with it with a single swift stab to the temple. Its pathetic resistance was on a time delay, barely able to lift an arm to block her attack.
‘The sooner we get inside, the sooner we get warmed up,’ David said. Joanne, Callum, and Selena climbed the steps to the entrance. Vicky half-heartedly tried to call Selena back but stopped herself. You’ve got to let her do it. She reminded herself that she wouldn’t be around much longer to bail the kid out (not that she needed it, judging by the speed she was moving). Better that she got used to dealing with the dead in relatively one-sided situations like this. She lit a cigarette and leant back against the side of the minibus, watching the others at work.
Selena crashed through the pub door and the dead inside reacted as one to the sudden intrusion, their collective movements as stilted and awkward as the staccato corpse Ruth had just re-killed out in the carpark. Vicky couldn’t make out what was happening inside, but it didn’t matter because it was only a few seconds before Selena reappeared, dragging a body by its ankle down the steps, the back of its head cracking hard on every downward drop. She dumped it by a wheelie bin. Old habits die hard. Was she expecting a van from the council to come and clear things up?
Inside the freshly de-corpsified pub, people were already making themselves busy. The place looked like it had been recently refurbished. The fixtures and fittings were new but had been designed to look rustic and worn. There was a large fireplace at one end, and, after a quick inspection, they decided it looked safe to use. Marcus, who’d improbably worked as a steeplejack for a couple of weeks during his university gap year, checked the chimney was clear of blockages. There were curtains up at the windows and a reasonable supply of firewood. The potential for comfort made the risk of carbon monoxide poisoning seem inconsequential in the overall scheme of things. The heat and light from the fire and the supply of booze behind the bar would make the long night ahead infinitely more bearable.
The number of people inside the pub was already helping the temperature to climb. ‘Okay, let’s get some lights up in here,’ David said. ‘And make sure all the windows are covered. We don’t want any of those nosy undead buggers getting too close in the night now, do we?’
There wasn’t much in the kitchen. Other than a few boxes of crisps and other bar snacks, everything else had spoiled or been eaten by vermin. There was plenty to drink but, for now, alcohol was being shunned in favour of tea and coffee. People were outside collecting snow and ice to boil up for water. ‘Me and Sam will go and check what’s at the fuel station,’ Joanne said. ‘There might be more food.’
‘We’ve got a load of MREs from the barracks in the truck, remember,’ Ruth said. ‘They taste like shit but they’re warm and filling.’
‘Good shout,’ David said. ‘I’ll go and get them in a minute.’
‘Let’s see what we can find before we resort to eating that muck,’ Joanne said, and she followed Sam outside. He stopped at the edge of the carpark and looked back at the pub. ‘Trouble?’ she asked.
‘Nope. Just wanted to see if we could see them from out here.’ He watched the building intently for a few more moments. There were some glimpses of movement in the doorway, and a few flickers of light as the final windows were covered. There’d be smoke coming from the chimney soon, but there was nothing they could do about that. All in all, the group’s occupation of the pub appeared largely undetectable from the outside. ‘We’re getting pretty good at this, don’t you think?’
‘I guess so.’
‘If we’re struggling to see anything, the dead definitely shouldn’t be able to.’
‘Maybe it’s not the dead we should be so worried about.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Forget it. It won’t matter if it carries on like this. It’s bloody freezing out here. The temperature’s really starting to drop again.’
