Autumn

the curtains. She kept her eyes screwed tightly shut for a few seconds - partly because of the bright light flooding in through the glass but mostly because she was afraid of what she might see outside. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she finally dared to open her eyes and saw that only thirty or forty figures remained on the other side of the barrier. The majority of the crowd that had gathered last night had wandered away into the wilderness again, perhaps having been distracted by some other sound or movement. Since they had switched off the generator the farmhouse had, to all intents and purposes, appeared to be as dead and as empty as any one of the hundreds of thousands of other buildings dotted around the countryside.
    Emma heard noises downstairs. It was almost eight o’clock and the fact that it was now a reasonable hour to be getting up coupled with the fact that she knew the barrier round the building was still intact, gave her a comforting feeling of security and protection. Feeling certain that all was well within the house, and still taking care not to disturb Michael, she pulled on some clothes and made her way downstairs. She found Carl in the kitchen.
    ‘Morning,’ she said as she walked into the room. She yawned and stretched. Other than mumbling something indistinct Carl didn’t stop or look up from what he was doing.
    Emma stood and watched him for a moment. He was fully dressed and had obviously washed and shaved. He was searching through the kitchen cupboards and had collected a pile of food and supplies on the table.
    ‘What are you doing?’ she asked cautiously.
    ‘Nothing,’ he muttered, still not looking up at her.
    ‘Doesn’t look like nothing to me.’
    Carl didn’t reply.
    Sensing his very obvious reluctance to talk, Emma walked round him and made her way over to the cooker. She lifted the kettle and shook it. Happy that there was enough water inside she put it down again and lit the gas burner. The kettle and stove were cold and unused. Whatever it was Carl was doing was obviously important because he hadn’t bothered to make himself a drink since getting up. One thing that the three survivors had quickly found they had in common was a need to get a hot drink inside them before they could function in the morning.
    ‘Want a coffee?’ she asked amiably, determined not to let his hostility deter her.
    ‘No,’ he replied abruptly, still avoiding eye-contact. ‘No thanks.’
    Emma shrugged her shoulders and spooned coffee granules into two mugs.
    There was an oppressive atmosphere in the room. The only noise came from the kettle boiling on the stove. Carl continued to look through the cupboards and drawers. Emma felt uneasy. He was obviously up to something but he clearly didn’t want to talk and she couldn’t think of a subtle way of asking him what it was that he was doing. She quickly came to the conclusion that she should just ask outright again, and that she should keep asking until she got the answers she wanted.
    ‘Carl,’ she began, ‘what exactly are you doing? And please don’t insult my intelligence by telling me it’s nothing when it’s bloody obvious that it’s not.’
    He continued to ignore her.
    Emma noticed that there was a well-packed rucksack resting against a wall in the store room adjacent to the kitchen.
    ‘Where are you thinking of going?’ she asked.
    Still no response.
    The kettle began to boil. Emma made a cup of coffee for herself and one for Michael. She sipped at her scalding hot drink and looked directly at Carl over the brim of her mug.
    ‘Where are you going to go?’ she asked again, her voice deliberately low and calm.
    Carl turned his back to her and leant against the nearest kitchen unit.
    ‘I don’t know,’ he eventually replied. Emma guessed that he was lying. It was obvious that although he feigned nonchalance, he knew exactly where he was going and what he was planning to do.
    ‘Come on,’ she sighed, growing tired. ‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’
    ‘Believe what you want,’ he snapped. ‘Doesn’t matter to me.’
    ‘You can’t leave the house, it’s too dangerous. Bloody hell, you saw how many of those things managed to get here last night. If you really think that you...’
    ‘That’s the whole fucking problem, isn’t it?’ he said, finally turning round to face her. ‘I saw how many bodies were here last night - too bloody many. It’s not safe to stay here anymore.’
    ‘It’s