shelters to concern themselves with despair.'
Thank God I found the oracle to take care of me,' she sniffed. Culver smiled. 'All I'm saying is, concentrate your mind on here and now, and nothing else. The rest is too big to contemplate. Use Fairbank as an example: it's as if he's on autopilot. Maybe he'll crack up eventually, but it won't be until he's got time to, when he's in safer and more stable surroundings. As far as I understand him, he's not interested in yesterday, nor tomorrow. Only now, this moment, today.'
'It's unnatural.'
'Not for him. And not for these times.'
'But we have to think ahead if we're to live.' Her crying had stopped, and he wiped away the wetness, smearing the dirt on her cheeks.
*We think as far as a destination.'
We have one? You mean out of London?'
'Closer. You feeling a little better?'
She nodded. 'I'm sorry. I thought I'd lost you ...'
He kissed her lips. 'I'm the bad penny.'
You look terrible.'
You're no picture.'
'Are the others watching?'
They're trying not to. Why?'
'I need you to touch me.'
That's good. You're thinking for the moment'
'I'm thinking for several moments.'
'Does a good cry always make you feel raunchy?'
'More often than not.'
That's worth knowing.'
He kissed her then, and there was more than consolation in the touch. They broke away by mutual consent, neither one prolonging the sweet torment. A little breathless, Culver beckoned to the others.
'Ready to move on?' he asked them.
Waiting for you, pal,' Fairbank answered.
'Move on to where? I've been beaten almost to a pulp, dragged through the ruins and nearly crushed to death.' Ellison spat dust from his mouth in disgust. 'How much more do you think I can take?'
'None of us can handle much more, that's pretty obvious,' Culver told him, 'so you just be your usual charming self and we'll see what we can figure out.'
He looked out over the hazy ruins and wished he could see the full extent of the damage. The mist was clearing, but it was still impossible to see the small hills surrounding the rubbled city. He wondered what lay beyond.
'All right,' he said finally. We can try to make it out of what's left of the city on foot, finding food and shelter as we go. It doesn't look as if we're going to get any help from official sources and I doubt we'll find any Red Cross soup kitchens set up along the way.'
'But where is the government help?' Ellison snarled. 'Just what the fuck are they doing about all this?'
The devastation has been beyond all expectation,' Dealey began to say. 'It was all underestimated. No one foresaw—'
'No jargon, Dealey, no bloody officialese excuses!' Ellison's hand hovered threateningly over a brick by his side.
Fairbank stirred. 'Cut it out, Ellison. You're getting too much to stomach.' His words were all the more ominous for their quietness. He turned to Culver. What about the main government headquarters, Steve?
Wouldn't we be better off there?'
That's what I was coming to next. Our friend from the Ministry here and I had a quiet chat yesterday, and he disclosed some interesting details about the place. It seems it's impregnable. Bomb-proof, radiation-proof, and famine-proof.'
Teali, but is it flood-proof?' Fairbank rumbled darkly.
'Each section can be sealed by air-tight doors,' Dealey said.
You can get us in?' Ellison asked eagerly.
'He knows the entrances,' said Culver. We'll worry about getting inside when the time comes.'
Then you think we should make for the shelter,' Kate said.
Yep. Literally go to ground. It's our best bet.'
'I agree.' Dealey looked at them all individually. 'It's what I've advocated all along. Wait until the radiation has passed, then link up with main base.'
Ellison now had second thoughts. 'How do we know it really is safe? There's been no communication from them.'
Dealey answered. The fault must have been from our end, or somewhere between. Remember, we've had no contact with any of the other shelters, either. I think it's not only in our own interest to report to government headquarters, but it's also my duty as a civil servant.'
Fairbank gave him a tired handclap.
'It's a feasible choice,' said Culver. 'Agreed?'
The others nodded.
'Jackson?' said Kate.
Culver held her arm. 'He's dead, you know that. He had no chance in there.'
'It seems so cruel, after all he'd...' She let the words trail off, aware that they all sensed the futility.
Without further words, Culver helped her up and they all began to clamber over the ruins. They concentrated their efforts on not stumbling over treacherous masonry and avoiding fragile-looking structures, steering well clear of any open pits and fissures. Not far away, and protruding through the low mist, were the supports of the elegant Jubilee Hall,
beneath which had been the trendy shops and stalls of Covent Garden. Its very bleakness forced Kate to look away, for she had always known it as a lively bustling square, a favourite haunt of both tourists and young Londoners. The Aldwych was gone, its semi-circular buildings flattened, as was the once magnificent Somerset House, much of it tumbled into the Thames which it had backed on to. Surprisingly, protruding from the rubble was the steeple of St Mary-le-Strand, only the tip broken off. It presented an odd and perhaps ironic sight amid the devastation, but Kate, following Culver's advice, did not let the thought linger.
Climbing, sliding, and brushing away swarms of oversized insects, they steadily made their way towards the river. A walk that would have taken no more than five or ten minutes in normal times took them the best part of an hour. They became almost immune to the unpleasant sights they came upon, their minds learning to regard the image of mutilated, swollen and rotted corpses as part of the debris and nothing to do with human life itself. Vehicles, overturned, burnt out, or simply askew in the roadway, had to be skirted around or climbed over, their ghoulish occupants ignored. Nowhere did they find walking, moving people; nowhere was there anyone like themselves. They wondered if it were possible for so many to have been destroyed, yet when they looked around at the damage to the inanimate, they understood that very few people could have lived through such destruction.
'How much further?' Ellison complained. He was panting and one hand was clutched tight against his side as though ribs had been damaged in the beating.
The bridge,' Culver said, his own chest heaving with the effort. His cheek was caked with darkish blood and he had realized earlier that a pellet from an intruder's air-rifle must have scythed a path across it. The wound throbbed, as did
the rat-bites in his ear and temple, but no longer stung. The pain in his ankle was sharper, but did not hinder
