Autumn

and musty. The pungent smell of rotting food tainted the damp air. The smell acted like smelling salts in suddenly reminding Carl of all that had happened. In a fraction of a second he was reminded of the nightmare of Northwich, the loss of his family and everything else that had happened in the last week. He suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable and unsafe. Looking over his shoulder constantly he began to fill cardboard boxes with all the non-perishable food he could find in the tiny little store.
    Emma and Michael arrived at the shop seconds later. In little more than a quarter of an hour the three of them had transferred much of the stock to the back of their van. In less than an hour they were back at Penn Farm.

21

    Michael and Emma sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. It was almost four o’clock. Carl had been working on the generator outside for the best part of the afternoon. The back door was open. The house was freezing.
    ‘There’s got to be something driving them on,’ Emma mumbled. ‘I can’t understand why they keep moving and yet...’
    ‘Fucking hell,’ Michael cursed, ‘give it a rest, would you? What does it matter? Why should we give a damn what they do as long as they’re not a danger to us. Christ, I don’t care if I wake up to find a hundred and one of the fucking things stood around the house doing a bloody song and dance routine. As long as they don’t come near me and...’
    ‘Okay,’ she snapped, ‘you’ve made your point. Sorry if I don’t share your short-sightedness.’
    ‘I’m not short-sighted,’ Michael protested.
    ‘Yes you are. You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself...’
    ‘That’s not true.’
    ‘Yes it is.’
    ‘No it isn’t. I’m looking out for you and Carl too. I just think we have to face facts, that’s all.’
    ‘We don’t know any facts. We don’t know fucking anything.’
    ‘Yes we do,’ he sighed. ‘For a start it’s a fact that it doesn’t matter what’s happened to the rest of the population as long as nothing happens to us. It’s a fact that it doesn’t matter why millions of people died. What difference would it make if we knew? What could we do? What if we found some fucking miracle cure? What are we going to do? Spend the rest of our lives sorting out fifty-odd million corpses at the expense of ourselves?’
    ‘No, but...’
    ‘But nothing,’ he snapped.
    ‘I can’t help it,’ she said quietly, resting her head in her hands. ‘It’s the medic in me. I’ve been trained to...’
    ‘Forget all that,’ he pleaded. Michael stared at Emma. She sensed his eyes burning into her and looked up. ‘Listen to me,’ he continued. ‘Forget everything. Stop trying to work out what’s happened and why. I’m not short-sighted and I’m not selfish, I’m a realist, that’s all. What’s gone is gone and we’ve got to make the most of what’s left. We’ve got to say fuck everything else and try and build some kind of future for the three of us.’
    ‘I know that,’ she sighed, ‘but it’s not that simple, is it? I can’t just turn away and...’
    ‘You’ve got to turn away,’ he said, slamming his hand down on the table and raising his voice. ‘Christ, how many times do I have to say it, you’ve got to shut yourself off from the past.’
    ‘I’m trying. I know I can’t help anyone else, but I don’t think you’ve thought about this like I have.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ Michael asked, sitting up in his seat. There was an equal mix of concern and annoyance in his voice.
    ‘I want to make sure we’re safe, same as you do,’ she explained. ‘But have you stopped to wonder whether it’s really over?’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Who says that’s the end of it? Who says that the bodies getting up and moving around last week was the final act?’
    Michael realised what she was saying and a sudden cold chill ran the length of his spine.
    ‘So what are you thinking?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted, slouching forward again. ‘Look, Mike, I think you’re right, we have to look after ourselves now. But I need to know that whatever it was that happened to the rest of them isn’t going to happen to me. Just because we’ve escaped so far doesn’t necessarily mean we’re immune, does it?’
    ‘And do you think that we should...?’
    Michael’s words were cut short by a sudden loud crash from outside which echoed through the otherwise quiet house. He jumped up from his seat and ran out to where