Purification

see them hovering around the back.’
    Stayt tried the door. He pushed it open slightly but it was jammed. The slender opening he had managed to force allowed the germ-ridden stench of decay to seep out like a billowing, noxious cloud. He turned his head away in disgust at the sickly-sweet and overpowering smell of death which suddenly filled his nostrils.
    ‘Fucking hell,’ he complained, screwing up his face.
    ‘Well what do you expect?’ Michael asked, continuing to stare into the dark building. ‘Christ, that door’s not been opened for over two months. It’s full of bodies in there.’
    ‘The light’s fading,’ grumbled Guest, stating the blatantly obvious. ‘We need to get a move on.’
    Michael cursed under his breath. He was already finding it difficult trying to see what was happening inside the shop. The place was fairly large and he wanted to try and get a basic appreciation of the general layout before they risked going inside.
    ‘Pete,’ he said, turning round to face the other man, ‘do me a favour will you and go and bring one of the cars over here.’
    Glad to have been given something relatively easy and safe to do, Guest jogged back to where they’d left the cars.
    The keys had been left in the ignition of an old but well-maintained silver hatchback which Gayle Spencer usually drove. He climbed in and started the engine and then moved slowly through the misty rain until he was level again with the building where Michael and Stayt were waiting. Under instruction from Michael, in a few clumsy movements he managed to turn the car around through almost ninety degrees, leaving the lights shining into the shop on full-beam. Michael pressed his face against the glass again. Because of the dirt and dust much of the light was immediately reflected back but there was some improvement.
    ‘Better?’ Stayt asked, also trying to see inside.
    ‘A little,’ Michael answered. ‘I can see at least six bodies moving, but I think there are more. I can’t be sure.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Right at the back. Bloody things are doing a good job of keeping themselves out of sight again.’
    As he spoke a single corpse slammed against the glass and began to smash its fists against it furiously. Surprised, Michael tripped back and caught his breath, his heart thumping furiously in his chest. The sound the creature made was curious and unexpected. One hand thumped against the glass like mouldy fruit, leaving a greasy residue behind. The flesh on the other hand had deteriorated away to nothing leaving bare bone to clatter against the window.
    ‘Come on,’ Stayt muttered as he watched the pitiful figure, ‘let’s get this done.’ Michael nodded in agreement and the sword-wielding survivor immediately began to push and shove the door again. It was blocked by the withered husk of a body and an overturned shopping trolley. With its hinges stiffened after weeks without use, it eventually took the full strength of both men to be able to force a large enough opening for Stayt to squeeze through the gap and get inside. Looking anxiously over his shoulder into the darkness behind he worked quickly to clear the blockage and let the others in.
    Each of them holding a makeshift weapon at their side, the three men stood just inside the entrance to the shop, illuminated from behind by the headlights of the car. The body near to the window began to noisily clatter and trip towards them. Grabbing its diseased head in one gloved hand, Michael pushed the loathsome figure away and rammed it up against the nearest wall, managing to wedge it awkwardly between a tall drinks dispenser and a metal magazine stand. He plunged the end of an already bloody crowbar he’d been carrying all afternoon into the body’s left temple, pulled it quickly out again, and then watched as the corpse slid clumsily to the ground. Suddenly breathless he returned to the other two, wiping the crowbar clean on the back of his boiler suit trousers.
    ‘Just look at this, will you?’ Peter Guest whispered nervously. He nodded deeper into the darkness at the other end of the wide, rectangular shop. The far end of the building seemed to be full of constant, shuffling movement.
    In the half-light it was impossible to be sure how many bodies they now faced.
    ‘So what do you suggest?’ Stayt wondered, wandering forward slightly. They hadn’t had to deal with any more than two or three bodies at a time so far today. ‘Should we just go for it and see