The Human Condition

just want to relax and let things happen naturally. I don't think we were supposed to survive. So while I don't relish the idea of letting those things out there tear me limb from limb, I'm not too bothered if I die.'

    `But that's...' Proctor was about to protest.

    `It's not normal,' Bushell interrupted. `It's not what any of you were expecting me to say. We've been pre-programmed and conditioned by society all of our lives to keep fighting and keep struggling. All I'm saying is that there's no point anymore. Just sit back and relax and let nature take it's course.'

    More silence.

    `No,' Wilcox said suddenly.

    `What?'

    `I said no,' he repeated. `No way am I just going to sit here and wait to die. Absolutely no way... There must be more we can do.'

    `I'm with you,' Paul Jones said, similarly unimpressed by Bushell's words. Proctor looked up in surprise at Jones' sudden allegiance to the other man. Strange how their apparent dislike and distrust of each other had immediately been put to one side now that their backs were against the wall.

    `So what do we do?' asked Elizabeth .

    That was the million dollar question that no-one could immediately answer. A heavy and ominous silence descended on the room as the six individuals quietly considered their limited options and the apparent hopelessness of their situation.

    `Exactly how full of bodies is this place?' Jones asked.

    `They're almost up to the twenty-fourth floor, I told you that a few minutes ago. Weren't you listening to...' Proctor answered before being interrupted.

    `No, you told us how far up the staircase they've managed to get, you didn't tell us how full of bodies the building is.'

    Proctor struggled to see the difference. He wasn't alone.

    `So what are you saying?' Elizabeth wondered.

    Jones shook his head. Christ, these people annoyed him. More to the point he was annoyed with himself. Why hadn't he thought of this before?'

    `A couple of minutes ago we were talking about getting out of here, weren't we?' `Yes.'

    `So how was Bushell talking about getting out?'

    `Do you always answer questions with questions?' she snapped.

    `Do you?' he replied infuriatingly before re-phrasing and asking his previous question again. `There's another way out of here, isn't there?'

    `The fire escape,' Bushell eventually answered.

    `Which is still clear, correct?'

    `As far as we know,' he stammered. `Why, what's your point?'

    `Is the fire escape anywhere near the main staircase?'

    `Of course not,' Proctor answered quickly. `What would be the point of that? The fire escape needs to be on the other side of the building so that...'

    `Exactly.'

    `So what's your point?' Elizabeth sighed, confused and tired and unable to follow the rapidly changing direction of the conversation.

    `What I'm saying,' Jones replied, `is that the fire escape gives us a way of moving around the building that's well away from the main staircase where we think the bodies are...'

    `And there's a good chance the bodies are still only on the staircase,' Wilcox continued, taking over from the other man. `Which means that if we're careful we could still go onto the floors and into the rooms.'

    `What's the layout of a typical floor?' Jones asked.

    Bushell thought for a second before answering.

    `Just one U-shaped corridor,' he shrugged. `Staircase in the middle, fire escape at either end I think.'

    `And when you first set yourself up here, did you clear the place out?'

    `I checked all the rooms for bodies and I took what I needed but...'

    `Did you take everything?'

    `No. Didn't need to.'

    `So there's your answer,' Jones said smugly, rocking back on his chair and almost looking down his nose at the others. `We go back down as far as we need to and grab what we can.'

    `Think that's going to work?'

    `Might do, might not. Should prevent us from starving to death for a few days longer,' he sneered cynically. `Delay the inevitable for a while.'

    `That's all you're going to do,' Bushell reminded him, `just delay what you know is going to happen anyway.' `He's right, isn't he?' asked Doreen. `It's not going to change the fact that those bloody things will be up here with us in the next couple of days, is it? It's not going to help us get away.'

    `No,' he agreed, `it won't. But it might give us a little time and space.'

    Eight thirty-five. Pitch black. Jones, Wilcox and Elizabeth crept cautiously down the fire escape staircase towards the lower floors of the hotel. Hunger,