The Human Condition

fucking thing.'

    `Here it is,' Jones interrupted. `Sharp right now!'

    With no time to properly consider his actions Wilcox turned the bus as instructed. The dark silhouette of the hotel loomed large in front of him.

    `Where?' he screamed, desperate for some help and guidance.

    `Just keep moving,' Jones yelled back. `Keep going forward until...'

    He didn't have chance to finish his sentence. The low light and the constant criss-crossing movement of hundreds of bodies made the distance between the bus and the front of the hotel impossible to accurately gauge. Tired and terrified, Wilcox jammed his foot down on the accelerator and sent the bus crashing through the front of the building. Their velocity was such that the bus continued to move until the twisted metal and rubble trapped under its wheels eventually acted as a brake. Eighty percent inside the building with only the last twenty percent of its rear end sticking out into the cold night, the bus came to a sudden, juddering halt in the middle of the hotel's wide and imposing marble-floored reception, its front wheel wedged hopelessly in an ornate and long-since dried up decorative fountain. No-one moved.

    `My back...' Doreen eventually wailed from somewhere on the floor under a pile of carrier bags full of clothes and other belongings.

    `Is everyone all right?' Proctor asked. No-one answered. `Is anyone all right?' he asked again, slightly revising his original question.

    Paul Jones shook his head and dragged himself back up onto his feet. He looked across at Wilcox who was trying to stem the flow of blood from a gash just above his right eye.

    `Nice driving,' he sneered.

    `Fuck off,' Wilcox spat.

    `Shit,' Elizabeth cursed from somewhere in the darkness behind them. `Get out of here. We've got to get out of here.'

    The sudden fear and desperation in her voice was clear for all to hear. Without pausing for explanation the six survivors picked themselves up, grabbed as many of their belongings as they could carry, and moved towards the door at the front of the bus which Jones had already forced open. He glanced down the side of the long vehicle and immediately saw what Elizabeth had seen. A large part of the hotel entrance had collapsed. Although still partially blocked by the bus, there was now a huge, gaping hole in the side of the hotel where the main doors had once been. Hundreds of bodies were already swarming into the building from outside.

    `Over here,' an unexpected voice yelled. Barry Bushell stood at the bottom of the main hotel staircase at the other end of the vast, dust-filled and rubble-strewn lobby. He gestured for the survivors to follow him. The light inside the building was minimal and they struggled to make him out at first. Wilcox was the first to see him. He ran across the room, closely followed by Doreen, Elizabeth and Jones.

    `Come on, Ted,' Proctor pleaded. `Leave your stuff, we have to move.'

    Hamilton was busy collecting his belongings and supplies. Loaded up with bags and boxes he tripped and stumbled down from the bus after the others.

    `Keep going,' he gasped, already out of breath. `I'll catch you up.'

    Proctor looked back at the other man who was clearly struggling.

    `Just leave that stuff,' he shouted. `We don't need it.'

    `I need it,' Hamilton groaned.

    `They're coming!'

    Come on you idiot, thought Proctor. Drop the bags, drop your boxes and get your backside over here. Hamilton was oblivious to the swarm of bodies that were now dangerously close behind him. They moved like a thick, heavy liquid slowly seeping across the floor of the hotel reception. Already the bus had been swallowed up and surrounded, overcome in the same way that scavenging insects might cover and devour a dead animal. Proctor looked around to see that the rest of the survivors had all but disappeared. Just Elizabeth remained, standing at the bottom of the staircase.

    `Move you fucking idiot!' screamed Proctor. Hamilton tried to speed up but, if anything, he was slowing down. He was desperately unfit and scared. He glanced back over his shoulder and, seeing how close the nearest bodies now were, he tried unsuccessfully to increase his speed again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't make his tired legs move any quicker. It was hopeless.

    `Move!' Proctor screamed again as he nervously backed away and moved towards Elizabeth.

    Whereas most people would have dug deep and done everything possible to cover the remaining difference between themselves