Purification

shook her head and looked down. She flicked ash from the end of her cigarette and watched as it fluttered down onto the tiled floor.
    ‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘I really have to think hard to try and find a reason for why we’re bothering to do all of this.
    You and Michael have got each other and you’re bloody lucky because that’s more than the rest of us have got.
    From now on everything we ever want or need we’re going to have to fight for. And okay, the bodies might eventually disappear, but we’re still going to be out on our own, aren’t we? We’re still going to have to become self-sufficient for Christ’s sake! Bloody hell, I’ve never been self-sufficient in my life! I’ve never had anything handed to me on a plate, but I’ve always been able to go out and get what I want, just about whenever I’ve wanted it. It’s all different now. I’m never going to be able to nip down to the shops to get myself a packet of cigarettes or a bottle of gin again, am I?’
    ‘No.’
    Emma looked deep into Jackie’s tired face but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was right, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. Jackie sensed her unease.
    ‘Sorry, Emma,’ she mumbled apologetically, ‘I didn’t mean to go off on one like that.’
    ‘That’s okay,’ she insisted. ‘Really, I understand how you’re feeling but…’
    ‘Thing is,’ she interrupted, ‘I know how lucky I am to still be here and to still be in one piece, but sometimes that’s not enough. I can handle this most of the time, but now and then I just want my life back.’

34
    Wrapped up in a thick winter coat to protect him from the cold and wearing a baseball cap to keep off the intermittent rain, Michael sat on a low stone wall in the darkness and stared into the distance. He was alone, and at that moment that was just how he wanted to be. The only person he wanted to share his company with tonight was miles away.
    He’d left the eight other survivors celebrating their day’s work and drinking themselves stupid in the dank, dusty and shadow-filled lounge of The Fox, Cormansey’s only public house.
    The sound of the ocean filled the evening air. It was still refreshingly different to actually be able to hear something instead of the heavy, enforced silence he’d endured during pretty much all of the last eight weeks. The constant crashing of the waves on the beach just ahead of him was a welcome and relaxing sound.
    He felt safe being out on his own tonight. Last night he wouldn’t have risked being out in the open like this but today the group had worked hard to clear the village and a large number of bodies had been slaughtered and accounted for. From where he was sitting he could still see the bright glow of the huge pyre they’d lit just outside the main part of Danvers Lye. If there were any other bodies nearby tonight (and he guessed that there probably would be) then he knew they would most likely be few and far between and he’d be able to deal with them quickly and easily. In readiness his trusty crowbar remained slung at his side.
    Keen to escape from the dead village, Michael had chosen to walk down the twisting coastal road which led back towards the other end of the island. Getting cold, he jumped up from the stone wall where he’d been sitting for the last ten minutes and ambled down towards the sea, his feet grinding noisily into the shingle shore as he neared the ocean. The crashing waves were soon loud enough to drown out the sound of his heavy footsteps.
    He’d been busy and preoccupied all day but, now that he’d finally stopped working, he’d again found himself plagued by dark and painful thoughts. Most prevalent in his mind was Emma and the sudden physical gulf which remained between the two of them. Why the hell had he left her on the mainland? Couldn’t she have come over to Cormansey with him? She would have been more use than bloody Danny Talbot. Michael had nothing against Talbot but he was young and immature and he’d been of very little help when the group had been clearing the village earlier.
    Emma, on the other hand, was far more experienced. She had guts and she had strength and when it came to the crunch she wasn’t afraid to do whatever she had to do to survive. Looking back now and thinking about some of the survivors sitting in the pub down the road, he decided that some of them seemed to have been chosen to come to the island just because they fitted the