Purification

walking towards them from the direction of the office building where many of the other survivors still waited for their turn to leave. The relief on her tired face was clear to see.
    ‘Fine,’ Lawrence smiled.
    Keele had finally composed himself enough to be able to get out of the plane. He walked along the runway towards the others, relieved that the ordeal was over for one day.
    ‘Well done, son,’ Lawrence said when he was close enough to hear. ‘Told you we’d be all right, didn’t I?’
    Keele nodded. He was still breathing heavily and his shirt was soaked with sweat. The trauma of landing had exhausted him.
    ‘The lad’s done well,’ Soames said, wrapping her arm around him and leading him back towards the buildings. ‘If I still had the pub I’d buy you a drink!’
    ‘There’s a pub on Cormansey,’ Keele mumbled, his voice low and tired. ‘You can buy me a drink when you get there.’
    The four survivors stopped outside the office building.
    Inside Lawrence could see many faces staring back at him expectantly. For once they seemed positive and happy faces too. A mixture of ages, classes and races all sharing a common desire to get away from this cold and dangerous place. The responsibility he shared with Keele to get these people to safety was humbling. Light from the bright orange sun setting on the horizon reflected off the glass and obscured his view of the people inside momentarily.
    ‘Are they all okay over there?’ Soames asked, distracting him.
    ‘What?’
    ‘The people over on the island, are they okay?’ she repeated.
    ‘Seem to be,’ he replied. ‘They’ve cleared the village and they’ve managed to get rid of most of the bodies. We left them emptying out houses.’
    ‘So they’ll have a place ready for me by the time I get over there?’ she joked.
    Lawrence shook his head sadly.
    ‘I doubt it,’ he said quietly. ‘I was talking to Brigid earlier. She reckons it’s going to take us weeks to get the place cleaned up.’
    ‘Doesn’t matter,’ Cooper yawned, stretching his arms up into the cool evening air. ‘The one thing we should have plenty of is time. Doesn’t matter if it takes us weeks or months to get everything done, does it? As long as we can get hold of enough food and we’re relatively comfortable then who cares how long it take us to…’
    He stopped talking.
    Emma had appeared in the doorway of the observation tower just a short distance away from them. Breathless from the effort of the sudden sprint downstairs, her face looked ashen with fear. Her unexpected appearance and anxious expression immediately silenced the survivor’s chatter and in the empty quiet they became aware of another noise coming from a different direction. It was coming from the edge of the airfield.
    ‘They’ve brought the fence down,’ she said.
    A moment of shock and disbelief.
    ‘Shit,’ Cooper hissed. He turned and sprinted back down the runway, instinctively concentrating his attention on the first section of the rotting crowd that had concerned him earlier in the afternoon. The light was fading quickly and long shadows made it difficult for him to clearly see what was happening from such a distance. He could see bodies spilling onto the field, tripping and trampling over a short section of fallen fence then picking themselves up and lurching towards the buildings. The sudden, deafening noise produced by the helicopter and plane had whipped the dead into a violent frenzy of terrifying proportions and the hysteria of the corpses had driven them forward with increased strength and control. Cooper could see that one of the metal posts had been pushed over until it was almost lying flat on the ground, and now the surging crowd of bodies were trampling the fence further down, their weight threatening to pull down another section of the barrier.
    ‘Fucking things are going to tear the whole fence down,’
    Jack Baxter desperately shouted as he ran from the observation tower towards where Lawrence, Keele and Soames were standing and watching in numb, terrified disbelief. ‘What the fucking hell are we going to do?’
    ‘Block it,’ Lawrence suggested. ‘Get one of the trucks over there and block it off.’
    ‘Where’s Steve Armitage?’ Emma yelled desperately.
    Baxter was one step ahead of her. He ran over to the office building and dragged the truck driver outside. Armitage pounded over to the truck, panting and wheezing with the sudden unexpected effort and