Autumn

can she be dead? She’s not well, that’s all. Bloody hell, how can she be dead you daft bugger?’
    ‘This has happened to millions of people, Philip,’ Emma said, fighting to keep control of her nerves and her stomach. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but most of the people who...’
    ‘Dead people can’t move,’ he shouted, resting his hand on his mother’s shoulder. ‘How can she be dead if she’s moving? Answer me that?’
    ‘Living people don’t rot,’ Michael replied. ‘Now your choice is simple, either come with us now and leave her here, or you both stay.’
    ‘I can’t go without Mum,’ he wailed. ‘I can’t leave her here on her own, can I?’
    Michael took hold of Emma’s arm and gently pushed her back towards the stairs.
    ‘Wait for me by the front door,’ he said quickly. ‘I’ll be down in a couple of seconds.’
    He turned back to try and reason with Philip.
    ‘Come on, just accept it will you?’ he began. ‘Your mother is dead. She might still be moving, but she’s as good as dead. She’s the same as those other people you’ve seen outside.’
    Emma listened anxiously as she crept back down the stairs. She waited on the bottom step for Michael.
    ‘What are you going to do if you stay here?’ he continued. ‘You probably haven’t got much food or drink and your health is suffering. We’re your best chance, Philip. Get your stuff together and come with us.’
    ‘Not without Mum. I can’t leave without her.’
    Michael shook his head dejectedly.
    ‘No,’ he said simply.
    Without any warning something inside Philip snapped. In a fraction of a second the meek little man became an uncontrolled animal. His fears and frustrations bottled up since the nightmare had begun, he suddenly exploded with fury and savage emotion, lunging at Michael and sending him flying across the bedroom. Surprised by the force and the violence of the unexpected attack, Michael lost his balance and tripped backwards through the doorway. With Philip desperately holding onto him, the two men tumbled down the stairs and came to rest in a heap at Emma’s feet.
    ‘Get back to the car!’ Michael yelled as he struggled to hold the other man down. ‘Get the fucking engine started!’
    Despite having the speed and intentions of a man possessed, Philip was weak and slight of stature and it didn’t take much effort on Michael’s part to overpower him. He wrenched him around and grasped his scrawny neck in a dangerously tight headlock. He dragged Philip towards the front door of the cottage, ignoring his pitiful, wheezing cries.
    There were three bodies in the road between the car and the van. Emma ran past them and climbed into the car and started the engine. The corpses - joined by more from the shadows nearby - began to crowd around her. She struggled to see between them and waited anxiously for Michael to appear.
    More bodies were reacting to the sounds of the struggle inside the building and were heading towards the cottage. Emma accelerated, hoping that the sound of the car’s engine would distract them and give Michael and Philip a chance to get out. A couple of stumbling figures turned around awkwardly and staggered towards the car. An equal number continued to move closer to the house.
    Michael looked up and saw that there were corpses in the doorway. Philip, sensing that he had been distracted momentarily, managed to squirm free. He took a few steps away from Michael and wiped tears from his eyes, oblivious to the danger of the approaching cadavers.
    ‘Why can’t I bring her with me?’ he pleaded, still refusing to accept the bitter truth.
    Michael grabbed hold of his arm to pull him out of the house but he recoiled and managed to twist himself free again. A body reached out and grabbed hold of Philip’s shoulders. Another caught hold of one of his legs. Terrified, he began to kick and scream.
    ‘Get them off me!’ he yelled. ‘Please, get them off!’
    Michael tore the creatures away from him and pushed them back out into the street. He looked up and saw that there were about twenty figures around Emma’s car and he could see her panicked face staring back at him through the glass. He knew that he had to make a choice and he had to make it immediately. Keep trying to persuade Philip to leave without his mother or just leave without either of them. He glanced back at the pathetic shell of a man who stood in the middle of his living room, whimpering and snivelling.
    The decision was