‘Shh…’ Jack interrupted, turning round and lifting a finger to his lips. ‘They’ll be here somewhere, they have to be. I haven’t seen any other crowds like the one downstairs, have you?’
He didn’t wait for her answer and instead kept moving forward. The same logic that had guided Jack to the top floor of the department store last night was now making him gravitate towards the top storey of the car park. It seemed sensible to presume that a survivor would have gone up as far as they could, knowing that the lethargic bodies below would struggle to follow.
‘That’s it,’ he said suddenly as they rounded a corner and reached the top level of the car park.
‘How do you know?’ asked Clare.
He walked towards a single car parked next to the staircase.
‘Three reasons,’ he explained quietly. ‘First, you wouldn’t normally park here, would you? Second,’ he paused to lean down and touch the bonnet, ‘the engine’s still warm.’
‘And…?’
‘And
look…’
He pointed at the number plate and radiator grille. The front of the car was dripping with blood and gore.
‘So what do we do?’
‘We wait for them to come back.’
The two survivors crouched down in the shadows to the side of a large van.
‘That’s enough,’ Heath protested. ‘Come on, Nathan, we’re never going to get all that up those stairs, are we?’
Holmes wasn’t listening. He was busy loading more food and drink into boxes and bags which he then stacked into shopping trollies. Shaking his head with despair Heath continued emptying a shelf of dehydrated snack meals into a cardboard box. He carried the load over to Holmes and then stopped to complain again when he realised that the other man had filled most of his boxes with cans of beer.
‘Now come on,’ he protested, ‘we’re here to collect food. We can take some drink back with us if we’ve got enough room but…’
Holmes leant forward until he was only inches from the lecturer’s face, immediately intimidating and silencing him.
‘Shut up,’ he hissed. ‘Look, I’m the one who’s put their neck on the line to come out here and get this stuff. If I want beer, I’ll take beer. And if I’ve forgotten anything that anyone else wants, well they can just get in the car and come and get it for themselves, can’t they?’
He turned his back on Heath and began pushing the first of the trolleys out of the supermarket and back towards the stairs.
The older man watched for a good twenty seconds before realising that he was alone. Suddenly anxious and uncomfortable he quickly made his move, pushing one trolley ahead of him and dragging another one close behind.
Holmes slammed into the first set of double doors which opened out into the short corridor between the mall and the car park stairs. He pushed his trollies in and shoved them towards the far end of the corridor, groaning with effort as he struggled with the cumbersome load.
‘I’m going back for more,’ Holmes said. ‘I’ll be a couple of minutes.’
He was gone before he’d given Heath chance to answer.
Tired and struggling, Heath moved his two trollies towards the car park staircase. He stood and stared at the huge pile of supplies they had gathered. Breathless, he tried to work out how much they would actually manage to get into the car and how they were going to get any of it upstairs.
Holmes was back. The sound of him crashing through the doors again startled Heath.
‘Come on,’ he hissed as he pushed two more trollies towards him. ‘Start getting stuff up to the car.’
Picking up several badly packed carrier bags and a heavy cardboard box, Heath began to climb the steep grey stairs back to the top level of the car park. Becoming increasingly annoyed by the older man’s lack of speed and fitness, Holmes followed close behind.
‘Get a bloody move on, will you?’ he shouted.
With his legs and arms heavy with effort, Heath pushed his way back out into the car park and dropped his bags and boxes on the ground. Holmes unlocked the car and they began to cram their supplies into the boot. Hiding behind the van, Clare started to get up.
‘Wait,’ Jack mouthed. He turned back and watched as the two men disappeared back down the stairs. ‘Let them load up the car first.’
A couple of minutes later and Holmes returned. He threw more goods into the boot of the blood-splattered car and then turned and ran back down again. Another couple of minutes and Heath emerged from the shadows again, closely followed by Holmes making his third trip. Jack couldn’t wait any longer.
‘Hey,’ he said, standing up and stepping out into the light.
‘Are you…?’
Holmes reacted instantly to the presence of an unexpected body. The fact that this body was communicating with him didn’t register. He turned to face Jack and, giving him as little regard as he would any one of the thousands of corpses dragging themselves along the streets, he dropped his shoulder and charged into him, sending him flying across the car park.
‘You stupid bloody idiot!’ Clare screamed, jumping up and pushing Holmes back against the car. ‘What the hell did you do that for?’
Realisation dawned. Holmes stood and stared at Jack as he rolled around on the cold ground, doubled up with pain. Heath pushed past him and helped Jack to his feet.
‘Get in the car,’ he shouted to Clare.
Stunned and in considerable pain but nevertheless relieved, Jack slowly made his way over to the car and opened the back door and collapsed onto the seat. Clare sat down next to him.
‘You okay?’ she whispered.
‘I’m all right,’ he replied, still clutching his chest and with his face screwed up in agony. His breathing was heavy.
Heath paced up and down anxiously in front of the car.
Holmes had disappeared again. Moments later and he re-emerged from the staircase, carrying yet more provisions including, Heath noticed, his precious beer. They loaded the boot until it was filled to capacity. Holmes casually threw the remaining carrier bags of food at Clare who grabbed hold of them as he slammed the door shut.
Heath introduced himself as he sat down in front of them.
‘I’m Bernard Heath,’ he said as Holmes started the engine and turned the car in a quick, tight arc. He drove at speed back towards the entrance to the car park as the sweat-soaked and overweight university lecturer next to him struggled to turn round and face Jack and Clare.
‘I’m Jack Baxter,’ he replied, still wheezing, ‘this is Clare.
Thanks for…
‘You with anyone else or are there just two of you?’ Holmes interrupted.
‘Just the two of us. What about you?’
‘There are about forty of us,’ Heath answered.
‘Does anyone know what’s happened?’ Jack asked hopefully.
Heath shook his head.
‘Haven’t got a clue,’ he replied and, with that, the brief conversation abruptly ended.
Holmes drove back down the entrance ramp and deep into the crowds of bodies, destroying any of them unfortunate enough to stumble into his path.
11
‘I can’t do this,’ Paul said suddenly. It was the first time that either he or Donna had spoken for more than an hour.
‘Can’t do what?’
