Bay of the Dead

Sophie nodded vaguely. 'I'm all right.'

'You look to me as though you've hurt your leg,' said Andy.

'What? Oh yeah,' Sophie replied, as if only just realising that her knee was red and swollen.

'So what happened?'

'I twisted it jumping out of a window.'

'Stuntwoman, are you?'

'What?'

'Never mind,' said Andy. 'It was a joke. Not a very good one.'

A short silence fell between them. Andy was driving slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for marauding zombies. Whenever he spotted one, or a group of them, he would extinguish his headlights, change down to second gear and crawl past, in the hope that the creatures would ignore the car.

So far the tactic had worked, and the journey since he had picked up Sophie had been relatively uneventful. The only potentially risky moment had come when a zombie had wandered into the road, right in front of them. On that occasion, Andy had had to stop the car, and he and Sophie had waited, holding their breath, until the creature — a hulking ginger-haired man in a blood-streaked leather jacket — had crossed the road in front of them and ambled away.

'So what's your story?' he asked now, glancing at Sophie again.

At first he thought she wasn't going to answer, and then she haltingly started to tell him what had happened to her that night, the terrible things she'd seen. Finally her voice cracked and she began to sob, lowering her face into her cupped hands, her shoulders heaving. She sobbed for several minutes and then abruptly she stopped. She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, smearing mascara across her face.

'Sorry,' she said bleakly.

'Nothing to apologise for,' Andy said. 'You've been incredibly brave.'

She snorted. 'No, I haven't. I ran away and left my best friend to get torn apart by those. . things.'

'There was nothing you could have done. If you'd tried to help, you'd be dead now too.'

She was silent a moment, as though contemplating this. Then she asked, 'Is this happening all over, or just here in Cardiff?'

'I don't know.'

'And, I mean — why is it happening? Is it like. . Judgement Day or something?'

'No idea,' said Andy. 'Sorry. I'm as much in the dark as you are. It just started happening, and now I'm trying to deal with it as best I can.'

They drove on, cutting through the centre of the city, bypassing the Millennium Stadium and Cardiff Castle, heading up North Road with Bute Park on their left. They saw the black silhouettes of zombies wandering about in the park like lost drunks, massing around the Roman Fort and the tennis courts.

Finally, on the other side of the road, the imposing facade of Police Headquarters came into view, its myriad windows staring down at them.

'No,' Andy breathed.

Sophie leaned forward, between the seats. 'What is it?'

'We'll never get in. Look.'

Sophie looked. The police station was under siege. Zombies were massing around it, stumbling up the steps that led to the main entrance, battering against the building with their hands, or their bodies.

As Andy edged closer, he saw that the building had battened down its hatches. All its doors were firmly closed, and the faces of those who had taken refuge inside were peering out of lighted windows. Looking closer, he saw that a number of bodies were strewn on the ground, though whether they were the bodies of the undead or their victims he couldn't be sure. Certainly one car was simply stationary in the opposite lane, its lights on and doors open, as if the occupants had left in a hurry. Another car — a police car like Andy's own, the word 'Heddlu' clearly visible on the side — had mounted the pavement and destroyed a sapling. This car had dark smears on the mostly white bodywork, but its erstwhile occupants were nowhere in sight.

Sophie made a sudden sound, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. 'They've seen us,' she squeaked, and then her voice suddenly escalated into panic. 'Get us out of here! Get us out!'

Andy didn't argue. It was clear that the station would not be the safe haven he had been hoping for. With no clear thought as to where he was heading, except away from the dead eyes and grasping hands of the dozens of zombies which were now turning towards them, he put his foot down and sped away.

Gwen suddenly stopped and slumped against a wall, as if her legs had given out on her. She covered her face with hands that Rhys saw were shaking badly.

'You all right, love?' he asked. He himself felt scooped-out, empty, after the death of the couple in the cafe.

Gwen's voice, muffled beneath her hands, was trembling with anger. 'That man, that. . that. .'

Words failed her then, and when her hands dropped Rhys saw that her face was twisted in abhorrence and rage.

Abruptly she shrieked, a savage war-cry of a sound, and began to kick and pummel the wall, yelling until her voice gave out.

Rhys looked around anxiously, terrified she would attract undue attention, but he didn't try to stop her. She needed to let it out. Gwen was not the sort of person who could bottle things up.

Eventually she slumped again, her fury spent. Rhys opened his arms.

'Come here,' he said softly.

She tumbled into his embrace, and for a minute or more they just stood there in the drizzle, locked together in misery and anguish and fear and mutual comfort.

At last she took a deep breath and broke away. 'I'm OK now,' she said. 'We should be getting on.'

Her phone rang. She scooped it from her pocket. 'Jack? Oh, Andy. . hi.'

She listened for a moment, and then said, 'Why, what's happened?'

Rhys saw her face change. She breathed out a long, 'Ohh. .' of weary despair. Eventually she said, 'Just go home, Andy. Barricade yourself in. There's nothing else you can do.'

She paused, listening to his response, and the grimace she flashed at Rhys spoke volumes. He knew from her expression that Andy was nearing the end of his tether, bending Gwen's ear, probably demanding to know why Torchwood weren't doing anything about the situation. He felt a flash of anger and held out his hand for the phone, but Gwen shook her head.

'You'll just have to look after her the best you can,' she said. 'You know the score. I can't work miracles, Andy.'

She half-smiled at his response. When she next spoke her voice was softer. 'That's OK. . We all are. Look, just get home and keep yourself safe, all right?'

She put the phone back in her pocket.

'Lovelorn Andy giving you a hard time, is he?' said Rhys.

Gwen cocked a reproving eyebrow. 'He's up against it, just like us. But he gave me some useful information, as it happens. Police HQ is overrun with zombies. Sorry, Rhys, but we'll have to change our plans again.'

Rhys groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. 'You mean we've come all this way for nothing? So what do we do now?'

Gwen's expression suggested they were running out of options, but she tried to sound purposeful. 'We'll revert to our original plan — go back to the Hub.'

'And do what? Hide underground and hope it all goes away?'

'What other choice do we have?' she snapped suddenly, and then immediately she raised both hands. 'Sorry, sorry.'

Rhys blew out a long breath.

'No, love, it's me who should be apologising. You've got equipment at the Hub. Computers and that. You might be able to come up with something. It's just the thought of having to retrace our steps through that. . that war zone back there.'

'We'll go down Lloyd George Avenue,' Gwen said. 'It's not far.'

'Far enough,' Rhys replied. 'It's a long, straight road without much cover, that is.' He smiled without humour.