The City

window. ‘They’re moving.’
    ‘Of course they are,’ Croft continued. ‘They’re distracting them so that we can get back inside.’
    The chain reaction that Donna had been counting on was slowly spreading through the rotting crowds which still surrounded the perimeter of the football pitch. As the corpses nearest to the fire and explosion had been drawn closer to the distraction, their reactions had moved like a ripple through water and their clumsy movements had attracted the attention of others.
    Slowly and awkwardly the entire diseased mass seemed to be staggering towards the searing heat and bright light at the far end of the university complex.
    ‘Time to go,’ Cooper hissed.
    ‘We should give it a while,’ Heath mumbled nervously.
    ‘There are still hundreds of them around. If we go outside now we’ll be…’
    ‘Time to go,’ the soldier repeated. ‘They’re moving away from us. We’ll have an advantage if we’re moving through them from behind. By the time they realise we’re there we’ll already have passed them.’
    ‘What are we going to do about the van?’ Croft asked, remembering that he had parked it across the entrance to the pitch.
    ‘Someone will have to stop,’ Heath suggested.
    ‘Two should stay, just in case,’ added Cooper.
    ‘I’ll do it,’ volunteered Armitage. ‘I’ll only slow you down.
    I’m out of shape. I’ve already done more running today than I have for years…’
    ‘I’ll stay here,’ Paul Castle mumbled. Although unsure, the thought of staying outside with the van and the trucks seemed slightly preferable to going into the dark night unprotected.
    ‘We’ll move the van back,’ Armitage said, ‘and then block the exit again as soon as you’re through, okay?’
    By the time the lorry driver had finished speaking Cooper was already out of the truck and on his way over towards the van. Croft handed Armitage the keys and followed the other man into the darkness.
    ‘Back to the door we used this afternoon, okay?’ Cooper reminded the others as they nervously grouped near to the remains of the mangled metal gate.
    Armitage climbed into the van and looked down at Croft, Cooper, Baxter and Heath. Baxter nodded for him to start the engine and he turned the key, sending a sudden splutter of noise and fumes into the cold night and causing more than a hundred bodies to turn and begin moving back towards the football pitch.
    Realising what was happening he slammed the van into reverse and skidded back a few meters to open up the exit. As soon as a large enough gap had been opened the four survivors ran forward into the darkness. Armitage drove forward and blocked the entrance off again.
    Still somewhat sluggish and clumsy, but now with undeniable control and intent, the corpses stumbled towards the van. The light was low and the comparative speed of the four survivors was such that the creatures were not aware of them until they were close. A half-naked cadaver lashed out at Croft and knocked him off balance momentarily as he pushed his way back towards the university. Bernard Heath, running with his shoulder dropped, charged body after body out of the way as he let his momentum carry him back to the shelter.
    The ground was wet and uneven, a combination of autumn mist and some earlier rain having left a layer of surface water almost everywhere. Cooper slipped and fell and, by the time he was back up on his feet again, six bodies were within a meter of him. He punched and kicked his way through them and continued on towards the building. He was the last one to reach the sheltered area where the waste bins were stored and where the door they’d used earlier was. Croft was already there and had it open. He ushered the other men inside quickly.
    ‘Get in,’ he hissed. Cooper pushed past and listened with relief as the door slammed shut behind him.

44
    Michael and Emma lay motionless on the floor of the motorhome, still hidden beneath a heavy blanket and daring not to move an inch for fear of attracting the bodies again. There were still hundreds of them nearby - the survivors could sense their closeness - but their interest in the vehicle and its occupants finally seemed to have dissipated. For a while the relentless banging and rocking of the motorhome had stopped.
    ‘So what the hell are we going to do now?’ Emma asked, her voice the quietest of anxious whispers.
    ‘Don’t see we’ve got much choice,’ Michael replied, equally quietly.