Purification

gently ushering her forward. ‘Go get yourself on board.’
    Donna nodded and made her way over to the helicopter where three other survivors were waiting. Cooper watched her as she walked away.
    ‘Think this lot are going to be okay?’ he asked.
    Lawrence
    nodded.
    ‘Should be,’ he replied. ‘I reckon as soon as Keele’s up there he’ll start to get his nerve back.’
    ‘Either that or he’ll go to pieces. What if he loses it?’
    ‘Then it’ll be a short flight, won’t it? And I’ll end up spending the next week flying backwards and forwards between this hole and the frigging island.’
    Keele was walking towards them.
    ‘Ready?’ Cooper asked.
    ‘Suppose so,’ he replied, his voice sounding less than certain.
    ‘You know the route, don’t you, Keele?’ Lawrence checked. Better to be safe than sorry.
    ‘Think
    so.’
    ‘You shouldn’t have any trouble finding the place. If the worst comes to the worst just head for the east coast and then follow it up north until you find the island. You’ll see the smoke and the people and they’ll see you before you can…’
    ‘I know,’ Keele interrupted, ‘you already told me.’
    Cooper and Lawrence exchanged quick glances. Both were still dubious about the pilot’s mental condition and his ability to fly.
    ‘Get going,’ Cooper urged. Keele jogged back to the plane.
    ‘We should be back later today,’ Lawrence shouted over his shoulder as he walked towards the helicopter. He stopped and turned around to face Cooper and Baxter. ‘I’m aiming to be back here by mid-afternoon. Just do me a favour and make sure that everyone’s ready to do this again first thing tomorrow. I want to get this done quickly, okay?’
    ‘Okay,’ he replied.
    Baxter and Cooper, suddenly the only two survivors remaining out in the open, moved away from the runway as first Lawrence and then Keele started the engines of their respective aircraft. A sudden increase in wind and noise accompanied the take-off of the helicopter which rose up and then gently circled the airfield, driving the rotting masses beyond the perimeter fence into a violent frenzy.
    Keele began to taxi down the runway and then increased his speed. Lawrence hovered high above the ground and watched as the other pilot cautiously coaxed the plane off the ground and lifted it into the air. A few nervous rabbit hops and then it climbed quickly and powerfully towards the grey cloud.
    At the edge of the airfield the body of Kelly Harcourt began to move.
    The dead soldier had lain motionless where she’d fallen for two days through the wind and rain and darkness. Now, beginning deep inside the paralysed brain of the corpse, and showing itself first at the very tips of its cold and lifeless fingers, the change was starting to happen.
    It spread along the body, the movement building gradually until its dead, clouded eyes flickered slowly open and its torso and clumsy arms and legs became animated again. With awkward, involuntary and uncoordinated movements the body hauled itself up onto all fours and then stood and began to stumble forward and then to walk.
    Gravity and the uneven lie of the land were the only factors which affected the random direction which the dead soldier took. It tripped through the long grass and kept moving until it clattered into the border fence.
    In common with the basic reactions of the thousands upon thousands of other bodies which had previously dragged themselves up from the ground and begun to move in this way, the shell that had once been Harcourt turned and tried to walk away. But it couldn’t move. It was trapped, held tightly from behind by the grabbing hands of numerous rotting bodies on the other side of the fence.
    Already agitated by the noise of the plane and the helicopter flying low overhead minutes earlier, the resurrection of the dead soldier had provoked more basic, brutal reactions. The most dexterous of the vicious creatures managed to poke their decaying fingers through the wire mesh and held onto the cadaver’s hair, clothing and whatever else they could grab onto. The bodies pulled relentlessly at Harcourt’s remains, trying hopelessly to drag them back through the fence, not understanding that the wire barrier was stopping them. Eventually the numb fingers lost their grip and slipped away, allowing the corpse to stumble off again in the opposite direction.
    On the other side of the fence, just to the right of where Harcourt’s body had been