room until they go.’
‘We think you should come with us,’ Michael continued. ‘We’re living in a farm house a few miles from here and we both think it would be better for you if you were to…’
Philip still wasn’t listening.
‘Do you know what makes them act like that? I really don’t like it. Mother’s not well and it upsets her when I tell her that…’
‘Your mother’s here as well?’ Emma asked.
‘Of course she is,’ he replied.
‘She can come with us,’ Michael offered. ‘We should get your things together and get out of here as quickly as we can.’
‘She won’t like leaving,’ Philip mumbled, ‘she’s lived here since she and Dad got married.’
‘Maybe you’ll be able to come back,’ Emma said, sensing that Michael was keen to get moving and doing her best to sensitively persuade Philip to leave.
Philip thought for a moment and then nodded.
‘You’re right,’ he finally said. ‘It’s probably for the best if we all stick together. I’ll go and tell Mum.’
With that he turned and walked towards a door in the corner of the room. Beyond the door was a narrow, twisting staircase which he began to climb. Emma instinctively followed but Michael stopped her.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘Let me go first.’
Philip was already at the top of the stairs waiting breathlessly. As Michael approached he lifted a single finger to his chapped lips.
‘Be quiet please,’ he whispered. ‘Mum’s found all of this a little hard to deal with and I don’t want to frighten her. She’s very old and she’s not been well these last few months.’
Michael nodded and managed a half-smile despite the fact that the air at the top of the stairs was rancid and he could clearly hear the ominous humming of germ-carrying flies close nearby.
Philip pushed the door open slightly and stuck his head into his mother’s room. He stopped and turned back to face the other two.
‘Give me a minute with her, will you?’ he asked.
He disappeared into the room and pushed the door shut behind him but Michael followed immediately. Philip didn’t notice.
‘Mum,’ he said softly as he crouched down at the side of the bed. ‘Mum, there are some people here who can help us. We’re going to go back with them for a few days until things settle down again.’
Michael stood a short distance behind Philip. Emma cautiously entered the room and walked over to stand next to him. He leant down and grabbed hold of her arm. With tension and fear obvious in his voice he hissed at her to quickly go back downstairs.
‘Why?’ she quietly asked. She took a single step forward to get a better view of Philip’s mother and then covered her mouth with horror and disgust. Mrs Evans’ skin was discoloured and decayed, her hair lank and greasy. Flies buzzed around her decomposing flesh and were feeding on her constantly writhing body. Michael walked up to the bed and pulled back the soiled sheets which covered the old lady. Ignoring Philip’s protestations he stared down at her emaciated body. She was tied to the bed with strong ropes which were stretched tight across her stained night-dress. She’d been dead since the first morning.
‘I had to tie her down,’ Philip stammered anxiously. ‘She wouldn’t stay in bed. When the doctor saw her last he said she had to stay in bed until she was better…’
‘Philip,’ he sighed, ‘your mum’s dead.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ the little man scoffed, laughing with disbelief. ‘How can she be dead? She’s not well, that’s all. Bloody hell, how can she be dead you daft bugger?’
‘This has happened to millions of people, Philip,’ Emma said, fighting to keep control of her nerves and her stomach. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but most of the people who…’
‘Dead people can’t move,’ he shouted, resting his hand on his mother’s shoulder. ‘How can she be dead if she’s moving? Answer me that?’
‘Living people don’t rot,’ Michael replied. ‘Now your choice is simple, either come with us now and leave her here, or you both stay.’
‘I can’t go without Mum,’ he wailed. ‘I can’t leave her here on her own, can I?’
Michael took hold of Emma’s arm and gently pushed her back towards the stairs.
‘Wait for me by the front door,’ he said quickly. ‘I’ll be down in a couple of seconds.’
He turned back to try and reason with Philip.
‘Come on, just accept it will you?’ he began. ‘Your mother is dead. She might still be moving, but she’s as good as dead. She’s the same as those other people you’ve seen outside.’
Emma listened anxiously as she crept back down the stairs. She waited on the bottom step for Michael.
‘What are you going to do if you stay here?’ he continued. ‘You probably haven’t got much food or drink and your health is suffering. We’re your best chance, Philip. Get your stuff together and come with us.’
‘Not without Mum. I can’t leave without her.’
