Aftermath

forward and peered around the back of the truck and saw that they’d pulled up outside the entrance to a small mall. A tattered, ice-covered sign read THE MINORIES . The mall’s once-bright fascia was now dull and muted, posters and window displays having been bleached by the sun and stripped of color. Rows of icicles hung beneath every visible ledge and sill, and he noticed they were all dripping. Some of them looked big enough to cause real damage to anyone unfortunate enough to be underneath them if they fell. Imagine that, he thought, all too easily slipping into daydream mode again—surviving everything they’d got through to get to this stage, only to end up getting speared by a bloody icicle.
    Now that the two engines had stopped, the silence was overpowering. Jackson called for the others to gather around the digger.
    “Right,” he said, “the plan’s simple. Kieran says there’s a few useful shops in here, and the more we can get in one place, the better. So let’s get inside and strip it clean. We don’t stop until this truck is as full as we can get it, okay? Let’s make sure this is the last trip out we have to make until winter’s over. Got it?”
    There were a few mumbles, little positive reaction. Harte looked around at the faces surrounding him. Strange how, just an hour or so ago back at the castle, they’d all been full of bravado and bullshit.
    “Got it,” Kieran said, more out of duty than anything else, feeling obliged to at least say something.
    “Our priority is food and water,” Jackson continued. Christ , Harte thought, as if we need this spelling out to us . “Fuel, medicines, clothing, bedding … all that kind of stuff, okay?” He stopped talking momentarily and looked past the others towards Jas who was hanging back. “Everything all right, Jas?”
    Jas didn’t answer. Instead he remained staring toward the entrance to the mall. Will Bayliss, his scarf now lowered but much of his face still hidden behind an unruly mop of untidy blond hair, suddenly saw what the other man had seen. “Fuck me,” he said, “would you look at that…”
    “Bloody hell,” Kieran added, unable to hide his unease when he saw it too. Jackson turned around to see what was happening behind him, just in time to see a lone body stumbling up through the interior of the mall, steadily coming into the light as if it was coming into focus. It slammed against the glass with a heavy slap, then staggered back into the shadows before coming at the door again.
    “Thought you said they’d all be frozen,” Jas said nervously.
    “Well, most of them still are,” Jackson replied quickly. “But come on, how naïve are you? There was always going to be a few of them trapped in buildings as long as they’ve been dead. It’s not going to be tropical in there, but it’ll be a damn sight warmer than it is out here.”
    The corpse approached the glass again, even slower this time, almost as if it had learned from its initial mistake. Harte walked toward the entrance, studying the creature inside. He saw that there were several more of them, emerging from the darkness.
    “They’ve been protected in there,” Harte said. “There’s no wind or rain indoors. Probably fewer insects too.”
    “Should we be doing this?” Bayliss asked. “I mean, is this a good idea? What if they—”
    “This doesn’t change anything,” Jackson said quickly, immediately silencing . “It just makes things a little more interesting, that’s all. If we’re careful and we take our time, we’ll be okay.”
    “I’m not sure…”
    “Then fuck off and start walking home,” Kieran said.
    Jackson walked around to the back of the truck. He climbed inside, then reemerged carrying a sledgehammer. The others watched him. No one moved. An icy gust of wind whipped down the otherwise silent street but no one even flinched, all eyes on Jackson. He marched over to the front of the mall, boots crunching through the snow, and shook the door. When it wouldn’t open he swung the hammer around repeatedly, each time smashing a different pane of glass. The farthest forward corpse was showered with shards and then took a hammer-blow right to the center of its chest, sending it flying back into the darkness. Jackson turned his attention to the locks and began battering the top, bottom, and middle of the doorframe, quickly buckling it out of shape. He shoved the mangled door open, scraping it along the ground, then stepped back again