Purification

push himself up off the ground. Still more of them were clinging onto his back. He had no idea how many of the grotesque things were hanging off him and he didn’t care. He managed somehow to scramble onto all fours and then pushed hard and stood upright and began to smash the bodies away like flies. With five or six of them already thrown to the ground he found that his torso was suddenly free again and the only bodies still holding on were those which clung onto his legs. He began to move forward again, his powerful strides dislodging more and more of the pitiful creatures until his legs were clear and he could run again. He battered more of the cadavers out of his path before reaching the side of the truck and slamming into it.
    With one last groan of effort he reached up to the handle on the passenger’s door, yanked it open and hauled himself inside. He pulled it shut (severing a single arm that reached after him) and slid across the cab into the driver’s seat.
    ‘He’s in,’ cried Emma from the observation tower window. ‘Bloody hell, he’s done it.’
    Suddenly sensing that a way out may have just been opened up for them, the three remaining survivors crowded together around the main door and waited for the truck to move. Lawrence watched events from the relative safety of the helicopter hanging in the air and continued to drench the scene with harsh, artificial light, giving Armitage some welcome illumination and a limited degree of protection.
    Inside the truck Armitage was struggling. His eyes stinging from the smoke, he slumped forward over the steering wheel. Dripping with rancid blood and gore and soaked through with sweat, he fought to catch his breath and keep his tired mind focussed. He reached out to turn the key and start the engine but then stopped. His chest felt tight. He desperately needed oxygen but the deeper he breathed, the more smoke he inhaled and the worse the pain in his chest became. Beginning as an uncomfortable feeling like a localised stitch, it quickly became an uncontrollable searing, burning and ripping pain which started near his heart and which then seemed to spread out across the entire width of his torso. His fingers felt numb and were now tingling with pain. His feet felt heavy and he struggled to move them onto the pedals.
    Armitage again tried to breathe slowly and deeply and did his best to ignore the constant distraction of countless bodies which clattered angrily against the sides of the truck.
    Taking his time, he figured that the slower he moved, the more chance he’d have of getting the truck going. His outstretched fingers eventually made contact with the keys and he somehow managed to turn them and start the engine, pushing himself back into his seat with momentary relief and satisfaction as the truck rumbled into life.
    Progress was short-lived, however, as another wave of debilitating pain spread quickly across his chest. Groaning with effort he forced himself to concentrate on getting back to the others. He began to move the truck forward and slowly turned the steering wheel to guide the heavy vehicle back towards the observation tower. Still illuminated by the incandescent light from the helicopter, the truck trundled towards the building, mowing down those bodies which foolishly dragged themselves into its path.
    ‘He’s coming,’ Cooper said, still watching through the gap between the doors. ‘Ready?’
    Juliet and Emma nodded. Emma’s throat was dry and her legs felt weak with nerves. This was make or break and she knew it. Never mind the immediate danger they faced outside, what happened in the next few minutes would undoubtedly decide the direction and duration of the rest of her life.
    ‘What do we do?’ mumbled Juliet anxiously.
    ‘When I open the doors,’ Cooper replied, ‘you get yourself onto the truck. Doesn’t matter if you get in the front or back or if you’re left hanging onto the side, just get over to that bloody truck and hold onto it, okay?’
    She nodded and was about to ask another question when Cooper threw the doors open. The blood-splattered prison truck ground to a sudden, lurching stop just a few metres ahead of them.
    ‘Move!’ he yelled. He grabbed hold of both women by the arm and dragged them forward, virtually throwing them out of the building. Bodies began to surge at them from every imaginable direction. Juliet half-ran and half-fell towards the back of the truck, managing somehow to jump up and yank the