Purification

disparate. The survivors generally seemed to fall into either one of two very distinct categories - those who talked about the future and those who wouldn’t. Interesting, Michael thought, that he could name all those who had at least tried to look forward and make something of the little they had left. The others -
    those who sat still and silent and wallowed in self-pity and despair - remained comparatively nameless, faceless and characterless.
    Michael still clung onto the slim hope that they could carve themselves something of a future from the remnants of the past. But the chances and opportunities presented to them seemed increasingly slender and difficult to spot and take. He knew he had to make the most of every chance which came his way, no matter how small, and he wasn’t about to entrust what was left of his uncertain future to someone he didn’t know anything about or who didn’t know anything about him. He had to admit that as positive as he genuinely did feel, the prospect of meeting this new group of survivors made him feel slightly uneasy.
    ‘All I’m saying,’ he said to Emma, keen to labour his point, ‘is that we need to make sure we stay in control here.
    This little bit of control is all we’ve got left.’
    Two vehicles behind, tempers were beginning to fray.
    ‘Will you two just shut up and stop your fucking moaning,’ Donna sighed, glancing over her shoulder at the two soldiers slumped in the back of the van. ‘All you’ve done for the last hour is complain. If you haven’t got anything positive to say, don’t say anything at all.’
    ‘I’ve got plenty to say,’ Kilgore snapped back. ‘Problem is you won’t listen.’
    ‘You might as well take your bloody mask off and give us all a break,’ she hissed.
    ‘Come on, Donna, that’s a bit harsh isn’t it?’ Baxter whispered across the front of the van, his voice quiet enough not to be heard from the back. ‘Just let it go, he’s not worth it. He’s just a bloody idiot who’s scared to death.
    They both are, you can see it in their faces.’
    Donna watched in the mirror as Kilgore angrily sat back in his seat like a chastised child, crossed his arms and turned and stared out of the window. It wasn’t worth fighting back. He’d been arguing with Donna for several miles about something pointless (he couldn’t even remember what had started it now). He really didn’t like her. She was blunt and opinionated. She had a big mouth, a bad attitude and such an air of superiority at times that he wanted to hit her. Fucking woman, he thought, thinks she’s better than Harcourt and me because she can breathe the air without a bloody suit. Bitch.
    ‘We should kick them both out now,’ Donna said out of the corner of her mouth. ‘I don’t know why we’re even bothering to bring them with us. We should do what Cooper did to the other two and…’
    ‘Come on,’ he sighed, ‘you know as well as I do why Cooper did what he did. This is different. At the end of the day they’re just people like you and me. They might even be able to breathe if they could take a chance and…’
    ‘I’ll slit their fucking suits and we’ll see how they get on,’ she muttered angrily to herself.
    Baxter shook his head sadly. He knew - he hoped - that she didn’t mean what she was saying. Maybe it was just the tension and uncertainty of the long day getting to her like it was getting to him? Not wanting to prolong the conversation he returned his attention to his maps again.
    The convoy rapidly approached the third of the five roundabouts they expected to come across in relatively quick succession along the road to the airfield. Tired, Donna sat up in her seat and dropped the van back a little way to allow her to get a better view of the road ahead. In the centre of the island in the middle of the carriageway was a large stone war memorial which she could see outlined against the darkening sky. At its base it had been hit by a juggernaut that had obviously lost control when its driver had died. The huge lorry was twisted round awkwardly with its cab leaning over to one side and half its wheel-base lifted off the ground.
    ‘Take it easy round here,’ Baxter warned as the two vehicles ahead of them slowed down to navigate their way through and around the crash scene.
    A body hurled itself out of the darkness and into the way of the personnel carrier, distracting Cooper momentarily. In the brief and sudden confusion he over-steered and