Aftermath

December was only a couple of weeks away, and there would be no celebrations this year, no presents, no gorging on food and drink. Just a hell of a lot of quiet introspection and, no doubt, vastly increased amounts of private hurt for each of them to deal with.
    When she went back down, Lorna found almost everyone crammed into the classroom together to escape the cold. Jackson was talking to Jas and several of the others. Over the last week he’d made a conscious effort to lay off the future planning and sermons, and concentrate on just getting them all through to a time when such subjects might be discussed freely again.
    The arrival of the rescued group from the hotel had put an unforeseen strain on the castle group’s resources. Jackson, thinking ahead while also trying to appease Jas, had been planning a supply run for the last few days, and this morning’s snow had suddenly made such a run a much more viable proposition. “Remember how the snow used to slow us down,” he’d said to Lorna when they’d spoken earlier. “It’ll be a hundred times worse for the dead . ” As long as there was snow on the ground, he’d argued, they had a bigger physical advantage than usual over what remained of the corpses outside. And without the benefit of long-range weather forecasts— any weather forecasts, for that matter—it made sense to take advantage of the conditions now while they lasted. Lorna couldn’t help thinking she’d heard this all before, back at the hotel: one last massive trip out for supplies to see us through …
    Driver didn’t look happy. He was uncharacteristically animated.
    “What’s up with him?” Lorna asked Caron as she sat down next to her.
    “He doesn’t want to go out,” she replied.
    “But why me?” Driver said. Jackson looked to the heavens.
    “The clue’s in your nicknam, mate. You’re the most experienced driver we’ve got. We need someone who knows what they’re doing behind the wheel. Do you have any other pointless questions?”
    “There must be someone else. They can do it.”
    “No,” Jackson said, remaining unfailingly calm, “you can. Listen, for all your faults—of which there are more than a few—there’s no one else can drive anything as big as a truck as well as you. And with the snow and everything else out there, I need your experience.”
    “Thanks for the compliments and all that, but I’m not going,” he said defiantly.
    “Yes, you are,” Jas said firmly.
    “Says who?”
    “Says me.”
    “Driver,” Jackson said, interrupting to try and defuse some of the unnecessary tension Jas’s tone was clearly causing, “I know you better than you think. I know exactly what you do and what you don’t do around here. I know you spend most of your time asleep at the back of your bus when you tell us you’re out working on the vehicles. I’ve seen you wiping grease on your hands and trousers to make it look like you’ve been grafting for hours.”
    “I’m not the only one,” he protested. “There are plenty of other folks around here who do the same. What about—”
    “You’re right,” Jackson interrupted, “but my point is this: right now we need to play to all our strengths, and your strength is driving, so you’re going out with us.”
    “Bollocks to that,” Driver said, remaining unimpressed.
    “Can’t you just give the bloke a break?” Harte said from across the room. “ I’ll drive the bloody truck if it’s that big a deal.”
    “The decision’s made,” Jackson said calmly. “Let’s just get it done.”
    “Did you not hear me?” Harte protested.
    “He heard you okay,” Jas said. “Did you not hear him? We play to our strengths. Driver drives; Jackson, Kieran, you, me, Ainsworth, and Bayliss go out to loot.”
    Harte slumped back into his seat, knowing there was no point arguing further. Near to him, Caron leaned across to speak to Lorna.
    “Surprised you’re not going,” she whispered.
    “Don’t even go there,” Lorna said, crossing her arms defensively.
    “Why?”
    “Because as far as Jas is concerned,” she explained, “playing to your strengths also means keeping us girls safely locked away in here to co and clean up for the blokes. It’s a bloody joke.”
    “And what about Jackson? He seems a more broad-minded kind of chap.”
    “You think? I spoke to him too, because bodies or no bodies, I’d actually love to get out of this fucking place for a while.”
    “And?”
    “And he was as bad as