There was a hand-painted sign at the side of the road. It had been battered by the wind and was only partially visible. As they passed the sign Carl managed to make out the words ‘cafe’, ‘turn’ and ‘2 miles’. He hadn’t had much of an appetite all day (all week if the truth be told) but at the thought of food he suddenly felt hungry. They did have some supplies with them in the van but in their rush to leave the city they had been left buried somewhere in amongst the various bags and boxes.
‘Either of you two want anything to eat?’ he asked.
Emma just grunted but Michael sat up immediately.
‘I do,’ he said, rubbing his eyes.
‘I saw a sign for a cafe up ahead,’ he mumbled. ‘We’ll stop there, shall we?’
There were empty grassy fields on either side of the uninterrupted road. There were no cars, buildings or wandering bodies anywhere to be seen. On balance Carl thought it was worth taking a chance out in the open. He needed a break. They all needed to stop for a while to try and get their heads together and decide what they were actually trying to achieve.
Suddenly interested in the day again, Michael stretched and looked around. He too noticed the lack of any obvious signs of human life. He could see a flock of sheep grazing up ahead. Up until that moment he hadn’t stopped to think about the significance of seeing animals. In the city they’d seen the odd dog, and there had always been birds flying overhead, but the relevance of their survival had been lost on him because there had always been a million other confused thoughts running through his mind. Seeing the sheep in their ignorant isolation today forced him to think about it further. It must only have been humans that had been affected by the inexplicable tragedy. Whatever it was that had happened had left other species untouched. Their sudden arrival at the cafe interrupted his train of thought.
The tall white building appeared from out of nowhere. A large converted house that looked completely out of place in its lush green surroundings, it had been hidden from view by a row of bushy pine trees. Carl slowed the van down and turned left into a wide gravel car park, stopping close to an inconspicuous side door. He turned off the engine and closed his tired eyes. After hours of driving the effect of the sudden silence was stunning. It was like sitting in a vacuum.
Despite having been almost asleep only minutes earlier, Michael was by now wide awake and alert. Before Carl had even taken the keys out of the ignition he was out of the van and jogging over to the cafe door.
‘Careful,’ warned Emma instinctively.
Michael looked back over his shoulder and flashed her a brief but reassuring smile. The air was cold and fresh and he suddenly felt more relaxed and sure than he had done at any other time since they’d left the community centre.
He reached out and tried the door. It wasn’t locked (it opened slightly inward) but it wouldn’t open fully. He pushed against it with his shoulder.
‘What’s up?’ asked Carl.
‘Something’s blocking it,’ Michael replied, still pushing and shoving at the door. ‘There’s something in the way.’
‘Be careful,’ Emma said again. It was clear from the trepidation in her voice that she was nowhere near as comfortable with the situation as her two companions seemed to be.
Michael shoved at the door again, and this time it opened inward another couple of inches. He took a few steps back out into the car park and then ran at the door once more, this time charging it with his shoulder. This time the door opened just wide enough for him to be able to force and squeeze his bulky frame through into the shadowy building. He looked back at the others momentarily before disappearing inside.
‘I really don’t like this,’ Emma muttered to herself, looking around anxiously. The cold wind blew her hair across her face and made her eyes water. She held her hand to her eyes to shield them from the sun and stared intently at the cafe door, waiting for Michael to reappear.
Inside the building he had found that the blockage preventing him from opening the door fully was the stiff and lifeless body of a teenage girl. She had fallen on her back when she’d died and his brutal shoving to get inside had forced her up and over onto her side, giving him those vital extra few inches space to squeeze through. He gingerly took hold of her left arm and pulled her out of the way. As he dragged the body clear he peered through a small square window and could see Carl and Emma standing in the car park waiting for him. He carefully laid the girl down out of the way and headed back outside.
‘It’s okay,’ he shouted as he reappeared in the doorway. He had to shout to make his voice heard over the wind. ‘It was just a body. I just…’
He stopped speaking suddenly. He could hear sounds of movement behind him. He could hear movement coming from inside the building.
‘What’s the matter?’ Emma asked frantically as Michael half-ran and half-tripped back towards her.
Breathlessly he answered.
‘In there,’ he gasped. ‘There’s something in there…’
The three survivors stood in silence as a lone figure appeared in the dark shadows of the doorway. Its progress blocked by the lifeless body on the ground that Michael had moved, it turned awkwardly and stumbled out into the car park.
‘Do you think it’s…’ Carl began.
‘Dead?’ Michael interrupted, finishing his sentence for him.
‘It could be a survivor,’ Emma mumbled hopefully although in reality she held out very little hope of that being the case.
From its stilted, uncoordinated movements Michael instantly knew that the figure which slowly emerged into the light was another one of the stumbling victims of the disaster. As it lurched closer Michael saw that it had been a woman, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, dressed in a gaudy and loose-fitting green and yellow waitress uniform. The remains of Tuesday morning’s make-up was smudged across her wrinkled face.
‘Can you hear me?’ Emma asked. She knew in her heart it was pointless, but she felt that she had to try and
