The Human Condition

top of me. My face got smashed into the floor and I immediately tasted blood in my mouth. The sudden shock and fright prevented me from feeling any pain at first but I can feel my split lip stinging now. The woman got up, pushed herself away from me, and then ran screaming back towards one of the men who had followed her out into the hall. The force of her impact sent them both smashing into the nearest wall which shook with the collision. I was scared. As they disappeared back into the room I grabbed hold of all the bags and boxes I could lay my hands on and crawled away into the shadows. The fight still isn't over. Its spilled out into the hall again. More people are getting involved. The stockpile of supplies has quickly disappeared but people are still desperately hungry. They're joining in the ruckus, desperate to get their hands on anything remaining. I'm sitting in virtual darkness in the quietest, most secluded corner of the building I've been able to find. I'm looking through the scraps I managed to keep hold of, although most of it is rubbish. Even though the others are being distracted by the fight I don't dare make a sound for fear of people turning on me and trying to take my things. I've got a tin of cat food, a small bottle of milk drink (which has probably gone sour), a box of headache tablets and a tube of toothpaste. I've started to eat the toothpaste. I can't bring myself to eat the cat food yet.

    The noise in here is frightening and confusing. It's late afternoon and in the low gloom it's difficult to see what's happening around me. It's starting to get dark outside and it's getting harder and harder to see who's who in the shadows which fill the main hall. Every so often the frantic noises and scuffles stop momentarily and, in those few, random moments, I can hear more sounds coming from outside the building.

    The man called Ralph (who thought he was in charge to begin with but who's hardly spoken or even moved for the last few days) has suddenly become more vocal and animated. He's scrambled up onto his feet and he's climbed up onto a chair to try and look out of one of the small rectangular windows which run along the length of the main hall. His tired, frightened face is pressed against the glass and he's trying to look down towards the ground. Even from over here I can see that the thin outside wall he's leaning against is being battered from outside.

    He's looking round now, trying to get people's attention.

    `Christ,' he yells, his voice uncomfortably loud and unsteady, `they're trying to get in! The bloody things are trying to get inside!'

    His words have attracted the attention of everyone in the building and, for a second, the entire group has become silent. The arguments and the fights have stopped. People have stopped what they're doing and they're standing still and listening. And now we can all hear it � there's a constant barrage of bangs, thumps and crashes coming from all directions. It sounds like the whole community centre is surrounded. If the man I spoke to earlier was right and the bodies can somehow now respond to the things they can see and hear, then it stands to reason that their individual interest in something is going to attract more and more of them to the same place. The noise they made earlier with the car and the arguments was enough to attract a few of the corpses. The shouts and cries and screams which have come from this place since then must have attracted many, many more.

    After the brief moment of stunned silence, panic is again tearing through the building.

    Ralph has jumped down from where he's been standing and he's lost his footing and fallen onto another man. The second man (I think his name is Simon Peters) has picked himself up and has grabbed hold of Ralph by the scruff of his neck. Ralph is kicking and screaming. I'm trying to push myself further and further into the shadows because I know that the trouble kicking off in the middle of the hall is about to boil over into something far more serious. The people here are right on the edge. It's not going to take much to push them over...

    Ralph's been shoved down to the ground. He's lying there and I can see him panting and struggling to get up, his face pressed hard against the dirty floor. He's half-turned towards me. Even from a distance I can see sheer and absolute terror in his face. Like a man possessed he's somehow managed to push himself up and he's knocked Peters out of the way. Pumped