girl that he had left behind. The realisation that he would never see or hold her again was a pain that was almost too much to bear. It had been hard enough to try and come to terms with his loss while he had been in the community centre but now, strange as it seemed, every single mile they drove further away made the pain even harder to stand. Sarah and Gemma had been dead for almost a week but he still felt responsible for them. He’d just left them lying in bed together. He felt like he’d failed them.
Conversation had been sparse and forced since the journey had begun and the silence was beginning to deafen Emma. She could see that Michael was having to concentrate hard on his driving (the roads were littered with debris) and Carl seemed preoccupied but she needed to talk. The ominous quiet in the van was allowing her far too much time to think.
‘Have either of you two actually thought about where we might be going?’ she asked.
Neither of the men replied at first. Silently all three of them had been thinking about that question intermittently but there had been so many bizarre distractions that it had proved impossible for anyone to be able to decide anything.
‘I’ve tried to think about it,’ Carl admitted, ‘but I can’t think straight. I get so far and then I see something and…’
His words trailed away into silence. He sounded lost and helpless. Michael glanced into the rear view mirror and watched the other man’s tired eyes as they darted anxiously around. He looked like a frightened little boy.
‘Well we’ve got to decide something soon,’ Emma said. ‘We need some kind of plan, don’t we?’
Michael shrugged his shoulders.
‘I thought we’d got one,’ he replied. ‘Keep driving until we find somewhere safe and then stop.’
‘But what does safe mean?’ she asked. ‘Is anywhere safe?’
‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘You could argue we’d be safe anywhere. There’s only the bodies that are moving to watch out for and they don’t react to us.’
‘But what about disease?’ she continued. ‘They’re starting to rot.’
‘I know they are.’
‘So what are we going to do?’
He shrugged his shoulders again.
‘There’s not a lot we can do. We can’t see the germs so we’ll just have to take our chances.’
‘So what you’re saying is we could stop anywhere?’
He thought for a second.
‘Yes.’
‘So why haven’t we? Why do we just keep driving and…’
‘Because…’ he snapped.
‘Because we’re too bloody frightened,’ she interrupted. ‘Because nowhere is safe, is it? Everywhere might well be empty and we might well be able to pick and choose but that doesn’t matter. Truth is I’m too fucking frightened to get out of this fucking van and so are you two.’
With her sudden and unexpected admission (which both Michael and Carl silently agreed with) the conversation ended.
15
Three minutes past four.
The slow and laborious afternoon was drawing to a close and Carl knew that it would only be a couple of hours before the light began to fade. When he’d handed the driving duties over to Carl, Michael (who was now curled up on the empty seat in the back of the van, sleeping intermittently) had estimated that they should have reached the west coast in an hour or so. It had now been two and a half hours since they’d swapped places and still there seemed to be nothing ahead of them but endless road and aimless travelling.
It was a cool but bright afternoon. The brilliance of the sun belied the low temperature. It shone down from a slowly sinking position in a sky which was mostly blue but which was dotted with numerous bulbous grey and white clouds. The road glistened with the moisture which remained from a shower of rain they’d passed through a few minutes earlier.
Emma still sat in the front passenger seat, still sitting bolt upright, still scanning the world around them constantly, hoping that she would find them somewhere safe to shelter.
‘All right?’ Carl asked suddenly, making her jump.
‘What?’ she muttered. She was miles away. She’d heard him speak but not heard what he’d said.
‘I asked if you were all right,’ he repeated.
‘Oh,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Is he asleep?’ he asked, gesturing over his shoulder at Michael. Emma glanced back and shrugged.
‘Don’t know.’
At the mention of his name, Michael stirred.
‘What’s the matter?’ he groaned, his speech slurred with exhaustion.
No-one bothered to answer him. He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep.
