Autumn exodus, p.19
Autumn - Exodus, page 19
Inside, the kiosk was untouched. ‘Bingo!’ Sam shouted with excitement as he started clearing a shelf of Pot Noodles and cup-a-soups. ‘Give me this kind of junk over that army shite any day.’
‘Ace. What flavours you got?’
‘Loads. There’s bound to be more in the back too.’
They found a trolley in the stores and loaded it up. They struggled to get it through the door without making a noise, then remembered it didn’t matter so much. Between the remoteness of their location and the iced-up condition of the dead, for once they could afford to take their chances.
It was almost completely dark now. ‘When I was a kid and it snowed, the sky always used to go a weird colour,’ Joanne said. ‘Kind of a purple-orange, remember?’
‘I remember.’
‘Must have been the light of the cities reflecting off the snow. And now there’s no light, there’s no reflection. It’s strange.’
‘Everything’s strange these days,’ Sam said, shoving the rattling trolley wheels up a kerb. ‘Feels like it’s about midnight, but I bet it’s not even six o’clock.’
‘Doesn’t bother me. I could sleep through ‘til morning whatever. I’m exhausted but I’ve done nothing today.’
‘You say that, but everything takes effort now, don’t you think? We’re all constantly on alert, waiting for the next thing to go wrong.’
‘Pessimist.’
‘Realist.’
‘Whatever.’
Sam stopped walking. ‘There you go. Listen to that. Someone’s having grief.’
He could hear raised voices coming from inside the pub. Christ, a few minutes ago he’d been complimenting them on how well-organised and cooperative everyone seemed, and now it sounded like a full-blown row had kicked off.
‘It’s probably nothing. Probably just Selena mouthing off at Vicky as usual.’
Between them they lifted the trolley up the steps and wheeled it into the pub. Their entrance was largely ignored. There was a circle of people standing in one corner of the room. Concerned, Sam pushed his way through to the front. Sitting on a chair, surrounded, was Dominic Grove.
‘Not again. How the fuck did he get here?’ Sam demanded.
‘Little fucker snuck himself away with the supplies in the back of the truck, stowed away like a bloody rat,’ Ruth said. ‘Fucking leech.’
‘It’s not like that—’ Dominic started to say.
‘Oh, really?’ She turned to face the others. ‘What are we doing listening to him? We should just throw him out. Leave him like he left us in London.’
‘You don’t understand...’
Ruth had had enough. She lunged for Dominic and grabbed him by the throat.
‘Hang on! Calm down, Ruth,’ David said, tugging gently at her elbow as Dominic grasped both her wrists. ‘This isn’t helping anyone. We’re better than this – you’re better than this. He’s a lying, cowardly, two-faced, bullshitting little prick, but we’re not going to stoop to his level.’
‘Ruth!’ Vicky called. ‘Are you going to kill him here in the pub?’
Reluctantly, she let him go.
Dominic was crying now. He was a bedraggled, scrawny strip of the man he’d once been. ‘How the mouthy have fallen,’ David said. ‘So, are you going to tell us what you’re doing here?’
Dominic sniffed and wiped his eyes. ‘I just want the same as you all do. I just want to live a better life.’
‘Pass me a bucket, I think I’m going to throw up,’ Sanjay said, unimpressed.
‘I’m serious. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, I know I have. You know I was a politician, and I carried on, back in London, doing the exact same things I used to do before everyone died. I genuinely thought I could make a difference, but I was wrong. I just didn’t want to admit I was wrong.’
‘About what?’ Orla asked. ‘From where I’m standing you’ve got a list of fuckups as long as my arm. So, tell us, what is it exactly that you think you got wrong? Was it when you abandoned everyone and took the boat from the Tower, or are you finally realising you made mistakes before that too?’
He hesitated before replying, as if the words were stuck in his throat. ‘I... I allowed myself to be bullied, you see? I was coerced. I know I should have stood up to Piotr, but you don’t know what he was like.’
David laughed. ‘Oh, we know all too well, thanks. It’s thanks to him that we lost so many people.’
‘I know! I know, and I understand that, I really do, but you only saw a fraction of what he was capable of. So much of his anger was directed at me, but I tried to keep it from showing.’
‘This is priceless,’ Ruth said. ‘What do you want, Dom? A fucking medal?’
He shook his head. ‘No! No, that’s not... Look, I just want a chance. He killed Lynette, you know. Right in front of me. No hesitation. We were talking and... and he just threw her off the roof. I was terrified! What could I—’
‘I’ve had enough of this shit,’ Ruth said. She turned to face David. ‘We need to get rid of this fucker once and for all. I’ll do it. I’ll kill him myself.’
‘And what will that achieve?’ Dominic asked. ‘That’ll make you just as bad as Piotr.’
‘You’re in no position to judge,’ David said.
‘And neither are you,’ he immediately answered back, a little confidence returning. ‘How many people did you kill to take back Yaxley?’
‘We had no choice.’
‘And I can tell you now, Piotr would have said exactly the same thing. I bet that’s what he did say when he came back and set fire to the warehouses. It’s all a matter of perspective, don’t you see?’
His tears had quickly dried up.
‘He’s right,’ Vicky said. ‘Much as I hate to admit it, he has a point.’
‘You can’t be serious,’ Sanjay said.
‘I agree,’ David said. ‘I’m not proud of what we did, but I stand by it. The rules of the game are different now. We’re not living in the same world we used to.’
‘We have to do something.’
‘Yes, but I’m not sure what. He’s not coming with us, I know that much.’
‘Please, David... don’t do anything stupid,’ Dominic said, sobbing miserably again. David ignored his pleas.
‘Find a room with a lock and shut him in it. Just get him out of my sight. I need time to think about what we’re going to do with him.’
33
David needed to stay alert, but having access to a fully stocked bar was a temptation he found impossible to resist. He allowed himself a couple of black spiced rums and Pepsi Max. The first drink went straight to his head. He decided that was a good thing. ‘We have to be willing to take these little pleasures when they’re offered to us,’ he told Sanjay, Ruth, and Noah. ‘It’s important.’
‘I completely agree,’ said Noah, who was also comfortably drunk. He’d already indulged of his favourite tipple while no one else was looking.
‘You both need to take it easy,’ Sanjay warned. ‘The last thing we need tonight is a full-scale piss-up.’
‘Two drinks hardly constitutes a piss-up,’ David said. ‘We’ll save the celebrations for when we get to Ledsey Cross.’
The mention of Ledsey Cross temporarily silenced the conversation. After a few seconds had passed, Noah cautiously asked a question. ‘Are we really going to go all that way?’
‘Yes,’ Ruth answered without hesitation.
‘Perhaps,’ David corrected her. ‘Hopefully,’ he added.
Noah leant forward. ‘Look, I apologise if I’m talking out of turn, but how much of this is for Vicky’s benefit, and how much of it is a definite plan?’
‘It’s important to stay positive for Vicky,’ David answered, ‘but it’s even more important to safeguard the future of everyone here and the folks we’ve left behind in Yaxley. I have every intention of trying to get to Ledsey Cross. It may well be the utopia she makes it out to be, but at the same time, if we find somewhere equally suitable on the way, I’d struggle to find a reason why we’d move on.’ He looked at Ruth. ‘You understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘Yeah. I get it. I know how much it means to Vic, but I also know how ill she is. I feel better now we’re on the move. Looking at her today, there’s part of me thinks she won’t make it anyway. She’s in a bad, bad way.’
‘And she doesn’t need to know any different. As far as Vicky’s concerned, we’re going to Ledsey Cross and that’s the end of it. We’ve got a route mapped out all the way. We stick to the major roads as far as we can go north, then cut east as soon as we’ve gone past Sheffield and Leeds. We’ll pick up the River Wharfe and follow it where we can, because that’ll take us into Heddlewick.’
‘And that’s the village that leads to Ledsey Cross?’ Noah asked.
‘That’s it.’
‘Sounds straightforward enough,’ Sanjay said. ‘So that inevitably means it’s going to be anything but.’
Noah swirled his drink around his glass then asked another question. ‘So, what happens if we make it up North and the people up there don’t want to let us in?’
‘They will,’ Ruth said without hesitation. ‘We’ve got a connection. Vicky’s friend Kath’s friend.’
‘Okay. We’re banking on the goodwill of a friend of a friend of a friend, then?’
‘Something like that. What’s your point?’
‘My point is, if things have changed and they don’t want us up there, what do we do? Are we just going to accept it and walk away, or do we take a leaf out of Piotr’s book and fight our way inside?’
‘Hang on – we’re not like that,’ Sanjay said, but Noah didn’t look convinced.
‘I’m not so sure. If it comes down to it, I think most people will do what they have to survive.’
34
DAY ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN
NEW YEAR’S EVE
They woke up to several inches of snow. The wintery world had looked strange yesterday, but it looked positively beautiful today. The thicker covering had obscured almost every detail outside, completely erasing, for the moment, every evidence of destruction and decay. A handful of cadavers had, by chance, discovered the group’s pub hideout and had made an advance towards it, but the worsening cold had stopped them. Now they stood in the carpark, converging on the building like a gang, all of them frozen mid-step. Snow covered and unable to move, they were like grotesque Christmas decorations, something left for them by Krampus.
Joanne reluctantly sat up, not wanting to get out from under the covers. Sam handed her a mug of coffee and some food. She hadn’t cleared away the cutlery and crockery they’d used last night. ‘I can’t get used to not washing up,’ she said. He just looked at her.
‘Wait... the world is dead, the streets are filled with walking corpses, and you’re freaked out by a bit of dirty crockery?’
‘Yeah. Weird, isn’t it? It’s the fact it doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll leave this place today and never come back. More to the point, no one will ever come back here. That’s the part that freaks me out. It makes me feel insignificant like you wouldn’t believe.’
‘For what it’s worth, I do understand. I went outside for a piss just now, and there was no sign of anyone. Not even any sign of us. All our tracks from last night have been covered up and the truck and the van look the same as everything else. It’s the strangest feeling. It’s like we don’t exist anymore.’
#
They were ready to get on the road again within a couple of hours. The vehicles had been dug out, refuelled from other stationary wrecks, and loaded up. ‘We all set?’ David asked. His question was met with a few grunted replies and zero enthusiasm. ‘Just one thing left to do.’
‘Are you sure about this?’ Ruth asked.
‘I’m sure.’
‘It’s the most sensible option,’ Sam said. ‘You get the engines going. I’ll go do the deed.’
‘Thanks, mate,’ David said. He climbed up into the cab of the truck next to Sanjay. Ruth started the engine of the minibus. The combined noise of the two vehicles shattered the tranquillity of the unspoilt winter morning. An immobile, snow-covered corpse did all that it could to react to the ugly noise. It managed to raise its right arm a few centimetres and twist its neck towards the truck slightly, but it otherwise remained frozen to the spot.
‘If we got enough speed up and drove straight at it,’ Sanjay said, watching with fascination as it struggled against the cold, ‘I reckon it would just shatter.’
Alone, Sam returned to the pub. He walked through the detritus of their overnight stay, his footsteps sounding disproportionately heavy on the floorboards. Nights like last night, where they’d been relatively comfortable and had felt unusually safe, gave him a little hope for the future, but there was always a caveat. He could already hear Dominic screaming for someone to come and let him out.
There was still a little residual warmth in the main part of the pub from all their activity, but the office at the end of the short corridor was as bitter as outside. They’d locked the door with a key they’d found in the pocket of a corpse behind the bar, and someone had shoved the back of a chair under the handle, just to be sure he wouldn’t get out. Sam paused and took a breath, feeling uneasy.
No point putting it off. Just got to get this done.
He moved the chair, turned the key, and opened up.
‘Thank Christ for that,’ Dominic said, tears of relief prickling his eyes. He looked like he’d hardly slept. ‘I heard the engines. I thought you were going without me.’
‘We are.’
Sam was blocking the doorway, no way out. He took his knife from his belt and Dominic recoiled, squirming in his chair. ‘Please, Sam, don’t... you don’t need to do anything you might regret.’
‘Jesus Christ, after everything you’ve done, you have the audacity to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? You’re an absolute fucking joke.’
‘I know,’ he said, sobbing freely now, but unable to wipe his eyes because his hands were bound to the back of the chair. ‘I know what I’ve done, but I don’t deserve to die. Killing me will make you no better than Piotr.’
Sam gripped his knife tight. There was something about Dominic’s tone that wound Sam up. He could almost see the cogs turning in the odious little fucker’s head, could hear the spin-generating machine cranking up, ready to start spewing his usual word-twisting bullshit and help him worm his way out of a situation entirely of his own making. It was the insincerity that stung Sam more than anything – the blatant bluster and the ease with which the excuses just dripped off his tongue. Dominic Grove never showed any remorse or contrition. He’d just pile on layer after layer of off-the-cuff defences, flinging endless fistfuls of shit at the wall until enough stuck. Sam had had enough.
‘I am better than Piotr,’ he said, ‘and I’m better than you, too. I didn’t come here to kill you, Dominic, I came here to let you go.’
‘Thank you, thank you,’ he said with something approaching genuine relief. ‘You’re doing the right thing.’
‘But, like I said, you’re not coming with us. You’re on your own now, pal.’
Sam leant over Dominic and slashed the plastic cable ties they’d used to bind his wrists behind him. He turned to leave, and Dominic ran after him and grabbed his shoulder. Sam span around, his knife still drawn.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he warned, ‘but I will if I have to.’
Sam’s brutal honesty was in direct contrast to Dominic’s effusive, empty words. Dominic was in no doubt he meant it. Sam shoved him away, pushing him back into the office.
‘Please, Sam...’
‘You listen to me, Dominic. The people in those vehicles out there are all I’ve got left. There were hundreds in London, but thanks to you and Piotr, their numbers have gone down and down again. I can’t risk having you around anymore. There’s everything you need here. We’ve left you some food, and there are rooms upstairs we’ve hardly touched. Make yourself comfortable. Spend the rest of your days here if that works for you. Just make sure you stay out of my life and out of the lives of the people I care about.’
35
The weather was both a blessing and a curse. The effects of the cold on the remaining undead population were welcome, making them easier to spot and therefore avoid (as well as stripping them of their ability to attack), but the snow made driving a challenge, even with the makeshift plough welded to the front of the truck. They’d done well to keep moving at a steady speed for several hours, but it was hard going. The conditions were changing. The clouds had gradually disappeared, and the sun had emerged at the least opportune moment. The glare was unrelenting. Sanjay had one hand on the wheel, the other covering his eyes. ‘Forgot to pack my sunglasses,’ he mumbled without irony.
David was focussed on the paper maps he’d been carrying since leaving Yaxley. He’d followed their progress carefully all morning because the maps didn’t just tell him where they needed to go, they also showed where they’d been. He kept a note of the time it took them to cover each section of road and scribbled calculations on a scrap of paper, keen to work out how long the rest of the journey would take. ‘We’ll be close to Doncaster before long,’ he said. ‘That’s proper North, that is. You know, we might just do this.’
‘Think we’ll get to Ledsey Cross today?’
‘No way. Tomorrow, though, hopefully.’
‘Famous last words,’ Sanjay said as he slowed the truck down. David looked up from his map, shielding his eyes from the sun. He could tell from the mountain range of snow-covered, angular humps and bumps that the road ahead was blocked across its entire width. It wasn’t the first time they’d had to deal with such problems, and it almost certainly wouldn’t be the last. When they stopped, David got out of the truck. Sam and Lisa joined him out in the road. The snow was beginning to thaw, turning to watery grey slush under their boots.
