Lisa looked at her. She was staring down into the red car.
"What?" Lisa leaned forward to see what she was looking at. There was a car seat in the back. She could just see the top of a small blond head and two tiny, kicking feet in striped socks.
"Oh, God!" Lisa stared at the road ahead. The engine idled. It would be so easy just to drive away.
"Oh, God!" She said again, as she laid her forehead on the steering wheel and closed her eyes.
Anita banged her fist on the dashboard. "Man!"
Before Lisa could protest, the girl had opened her door and got out.
She lifted the gun and pointed it out in front of her, its butt resting in the crook of her shoulder. Her finger hovered over the trigger. She actually looked as though she knew what she was doing, computer games or otherwise.
"Keep the engine running. Be ready to move."
Marvelling at her bravery, Lisa watched in the rear-view mirror as Anita moved behind the car, pointing the gun from side to side and behind her like some sort of commando. She shocked herself when she had to suppress the urge to giggle a little. It was all so ridiculous. Instead, she concentrated on checking the trees on either side of the road for any movement, jumping every time a branch twitched or a leaf fluttered.
After less than a minute, a breathless Anita climbed back into her seat. She fastened her seat belt with trembling fingers.
"Just drive."
Lisa didn't ask. She didn't need to. They headed back in the direction of the farm.
They could clearly see the farmhouse ahead on the right when they reached the small crossroads again. Lisa slowed to a stop. On their left was the village of Wolston and a small sign identified the road on the right as Coal Pit Lane.
"Let's go left. Through the village," Lisa said. "It's the right direction and I reckon we can get back onto the A45 further up."
"You know where you're going," Anita responded. "Do what you think."
"Brian?" Lisa asked, craning her head to look at the man lying on the back seat. She realised he'd not made a sound since they'd stopped at the accident. "Shit. He's worse!"
Anita undid her seatbelt and knelt on her seat, leaning into the back to gently shake Brian by the shoulder.
"Mate, how are you doing back there?"
There was no response. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was laboured and painful.
"Jesus. We've got to get him to a doctor. I think we need to do it now, before we do anything else. He looks really bad. He's burning hot. Unconscious."
"Oh, God! There must be a surgery in the village, or at least someone who can help."
She turned left towards Wolston.
They'd only travelled a few hundred yards when they reached a T-junction. The left turn led straight into the village. The right doubled back at a tight angle.
As soon as she turned, Lisa saw them.
A crowd of people were wandering about in the road in front of a small row of shops. Their unsteady gait, blood-stained clothes and pallor left no doubt that they were infected. There were so many. She counted at least thirty. They milled around as if performing some strange and ghastly dance. Lisa's mind kicked into analytical mode. A million questions formed in her head. What had happened here? Why were they there? Why so many? What were they doing?
As the women watched, partly in horror and partly in morbid fascination, a tall man in a business suit who was closest to them suddenly stopped moving and stood stock still, his head cocked as if he was listening. He slowly turned his awful head towards them and fixed them for an instant in his gaze. He wailed loudly and, arms outstretched, began to haul his broken body up the road towards them. As his wailing intensified, the others joined in the chorus and started moving with him. The noise built quickly to a deafening pitch. Anita put her hands over her ears. Lisa was paralysed by a mixture of terror and perverse interest.
The crowd of hideous undead, all in various states of mutilation, was moving steadily towards them. Some were horribly wounded like John had been, but others bore little or no signs of obvious injury. They all had the same grey skin and empty eyes. There were men, women and children - people in business and work clothes, some still in their night wear. One woman was naked, and another man was wearing just his boxer shorts. The businessman reached the car and started banging on the bonnet with outstretched hands. His clawing fingers leaving long, dirty streaks of gore.
"Lisa, move it!"
Anita's cry shook Lisa out of her daze.
Panicking, she struggled to get the X-Trail into reverse, the gears screaming in complaint as she jammed the stick into various positions before it found home. The man was now groping his way round to the passenger side. Lisa slammed her foot on the accelerator and the car shot backwards. If her reversing in normal circumstances was bad, now it was truly terrible. She zig-zagged crazily back up the road, hitting the verge a few times and scraping the side of the car against the hedgerow. At one point, the tyres on the passenger side slipped into a shallow ditch and the car tilted dramatically to the side.
"Jesus!" Anita shouted, gripping the dashboard.
Eventually, they hit the main road and, tyres screeching, Lisa swung the car round to face the other side of the crossroads. Getting back into first gear far more easily than she had reverse, they sped off down the winding lane. She drove fast for a full two or three minutes, looking behind them in the rear-view mirror more than she was looking
