Hater

road before he's consumed by the flames.
    Between us we push the kids out into the hall. I go back to the living room.
    Outside no-one does anything. No-one moves. There's no activity out on the street, not even when the fire from Woods' wife's burning body spreads and sets light to a pile of plastic sacks filled with rubbish which have been sat at the side of the road for more than a week. Thick black smoke billows up from the bags and from the corpses in the road, filling the air with dirty fumes.

    Sobbing, Lizzie pulls the curtains shut.

    The man on the landing at the top of the stairs is dead. I crept out of the flat a few minutes ago and went up to check. What a fucking horrible way to go - ending your days slowly bleeding to death on your own at the top of a dark, concrete staircase. Could I have done anything for him? Possibly. Should I have done anything for him? Definitely not. He was a Hater, and its scum like him that have caused all of this. They're the reason everything is falling apart. They're the reason I've had to lock myself and my family in the flat. They're the reason we're all fucking terrified.
    What scares me most about the body upstairs and what we saw on the street is the closeness of it all. I could cope with this crisis when it was just something on the news. I could even deal with it at the concert and when we saw the fight in the pub and the kid under the car. What's changed today is the proximity of the trouble to my children and my home. This flat felt safe until today.

25

    The kids have definitely sensed a change now. Maybe it's because they've been trapped in the flat without contact from anyone else for days. Obviously what they've seen today has made matters worse. They keep asking questions and I don't know how to answer them. I don't know what to say to them anymore. I took the bolt I fixed on Sunday morning off the bathroom door and attached it to the inside of the living room (or 'safe room' as we're now supposed to call it) to try and make everyone feel a little safer. I don't know if it's done any good.
    We've been sitting in the safe room for hours and I can't stand it any longer. I get up and wander aimlessly around the flat. I can't sit and do nothing, but there's nothing I can do either. I don't want to talk to anyone. I'm cold and tired and frightened. I walk into Josh and Ed's small room and climb up onto Ed's top bunk. His small screen TV is at the end of the bed. I switch it on and flick through the channels. Nothing worth watching. There are a couple of channels showing repeats of old TV shows, the rest are just showing the public information film that we saw earlier. It's running at exactly the same time on all the major national channels. It must be produced and broadcast by the government. At least I assume it's the government. Who else could it be?
    With nothing on TV and no other distractions I find myself looking out of the window just to the side of the bed. I lie down flat on my stomach on the narrow bunk and stare out through the net curtain at the street outside. From here I can see along the full length of Calder Grove - from the still smoking bodies of Woods and his wife right down to the junction of the road with Gregory Street. Apart from the drifting smoke everything else is still. The world feels silent and deserted, as if we've all been put in quarantine from each other. Now and again I catch sight of a lonely figure in the distance. People stick to the shadows and they're gone as quickly as they appear. There's hardly any other movement at all. Once in a while a car passes by, otherwise nothing else seems to move. It's like looking at a freeze-frame photograph of the world.
    Why hasn't anyone done anything about the corpses? We've kept the curtains in the living room closed so the kids can't see them. If Woods' wife's body is still there in the morning I might go and throw a blanket over it just so it's out of view. I can see the blackened remains of the dead woman's arms. Her bony hands and fingers are lifted up and clasped together like she's praying or pleading for help.
    I don't know what we're going to do. I'm trying not to panic. I don't think we have any choice but to lock ourselves in here and sit this thing out, however long that takes. I don't want to…
    'What are you looking at?' a voice suddenly asks from beside me, making me jump. I look round and see that it's Ellis. She's crept into the bedroom and has managed to climb the ladder