away from here, but they’re not looking forward to dealing with the trauma and uncertainty of leaving. We’ve been doing some calculations, trying to work out how long it’s going to take us to get to the island and how many flights we’re going to have to make. Lawrence is happy to keep shuttling between here and Cormansey until everyone and everything’s over there. If he can make enough crossings then we can limit Keele to only having to make two flights, although he probably will need to do three. We’ve got more than enough fuel so time is the only issue. There are fifty of us here now, including the two pilots. The helicopter can carry three - four at a push - passengers at a time. If things go our way we could be out of here in a couple of days but I’m under no illusions. It’s been a long time since anything has gone our way.
Baxter said something earlier that’s been troubling me.
He’s been watching the bodies with Croft and they think their behaviour is beginning to change again. The pair of them have been walking up and down the runway because Croft’s been trying to exercise his leg. He told me that at one point they just kept walking and didn’t realise how far they’d gone until they were close to the perimeter fence.
Some of the bodies, he said, continued to react like they always had done, fighting and ripping at each other. Some of them pushed themselves against the fence and tried to get closer to them. It’s the others that really concern me. He told me that some of them were just standing there looking at him. He said he felt like he was being watched. A few minutes ago Richard Lawrence told me that they’d seen something similar happening on Cormansey. Apparently there some of the bodies have been keeping their distance from our people, almost hiding from them. There’s nowhere for them to go here. They’re stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with hundreds more of the bloody things behind them, pushing them closer.
I don’t know what this means.
Are the bodies finally about to give up and drop, or is this the beginning of something worse?
We’ve drawn lots to decide who goes first.
The plane and the helicopter will leave here early tomorrow morning.
The sooner we get away from this place the better.
In the frustratingly low light of early evening Jackie Soames was trying unsuccessfully to coordinate the emptying of the observation tower and the movement of anything useful down into the office building below.
‘So what’s the plan?’ Emma asked, returning to the observation tower from outside. She’d watched Keele move the plane from the hangar to the runway earlier and, despite the damp conditions and low temperature, had stayed out there, enjoying the relative freedom and the fresh air. The activity over the last few hours seemed to suggest that things were finally about to start happening and she had assumed that there would be work to be done inside. She could see a few people moving around the room with an apparent purpose, but she could also see many, many more sitting still and staring into space as they always did. Much as she understood their continuing pain and could sympathise with them to an extent, she questioned how long their malaise would last? No matter how bleak or desperate things seemed, they all had to try and face up to what was left of reality sooner or later, didn’t they?
‘There is no plan,’ Jackie replied dejectedly. ‘I just thought it would be sensible to get as much stuff out of here as we could before morning.’
‘So what exactly do we need to take? Do you know what’s already on the island?’
‘Not sure.’
‘Didn’t someone say there used to be about five hundred people living there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then there’s going to be plenty of clothing and beds and houses and the like, isn’t there?’
‘Suppose so.’
‘So all we really need to take with us from here is any food we’ve got and any specialist stuff that we know we won’t find over there. I don’t think there’s going to be very much.’
Jackie nodded.
‘I know,’ she admitted. She looked at Emma and managed half a smile. ‘You’re right. I suppose I’m just trying to keep myself occupied, that’s all. I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand all this bloody waiting around.
It’s really starting to get to me. I just want to get on, get things done and get out of here now.’
Emma agreed.
‘We’ve all done more than enough waiting around,’ she sighed.
Realising that it was pointless trying to motivate herself or anyone else at the end of the dying day, Jackie sat down heavily. Emma pulled up a chair and sat down next to her.
She thought the large, red-faced woman looked unusually troubled. Perhaps it was just tiredness.
‘What’s on your mind?’ she asked.
Jackie shrugged her shoulders and lit a cigarette. She only had a couple left in the box she carried with her. The one she’d just put in her mouth had already been half-smoked.
‘This just about sums it up,’ she said as she blew out a match.
‘What does?’
‘These bloody cigarettes.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I ran a pub,’ Jackie explained, taking a deep, tired breath. ‘I used to smoke like a bloody chimney. I used to like having a good time first then worrying about it afterwards. Now I’m down to my last box of cigarettes and I’m hoping there’s going to be some on this bloody island when I get there because the last thing I want to do now is give up. I can think of at least another four or five smokers in here and my guess is that none of them want to give up either. Bloody hell, I want to smoke more than ever now.’
‘What point are you making?’
Jackie didn’t give Emma a direct answer. She knew she wasn’t making much sense but she didn’t care.
‘And drinking,’ she continued. ‘I never used to get a hangover because I’d never stop drinking. I used to drink every day but there’s hardly a drop of alcohol left here now. Christ, I’ve practically been going through cold turkey for the last couple of weeks and I’ve bloody well had enough of it.’
‘I still don’t understand.’
Jackie laughed sadly to herself, shook her head and looked down. She flicked ash from the end of her cigarette and watched as it fluttered down onto the tiled floor.
‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘I really have to think hard to try and find a reason for why we’re bothering to do all of this.
You and Michael have got each other and you’re bloody lucky because that’s more than the rest of us have got.
From now on everything we ever want or need we’re going to have to fight for. And okay, the bodies might eventually disappear, but we’re still going to be out on our own, aren’t we? We’re still going to have to become self-sufficient for Christ’s sake! Bloody hell, I’ve never been self-sufficient in my life! I’ve never had anything handed to me on a plate, but I’ve always been able to go out and get what I want, just about whenever I’ve wanted it. It’s all different now. I’m never going to be able to nip down to the shops to get myself a packet of cigarettes or a bottle of gin again, am I?’
‘No.’
Emma looked deep into Jackie’s tired face but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was right, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. Jackie sensed her unease.
‘Sorry, Emma,’ she mumbled apologetically, ‘I didn’t mean to go off on one like that.’
‘That’s okay,’ she insisted. ‘Really, I understand how you’re feeling but…’
‘Thing is,’ she interrupted, ‘I know how lucky I am to still be here and to still be in one piece, but sometimes that’s not enough. I can handle this most of the time, but now and then I just want my life back.’
Wrapped up in a thick winter coat to protect him from the cold and wearing a baseball cap to keep off the intermittent rain, Michael sat on a low stone wall in the darkness and stared into the distance. He was alone, and at that moment that was just how he wanted to be. The only person he wanted to share his company with tonight
