"Jesus! You weren't kidding when you said you couldn't reverse!" Anita started to laugh.
Lisa turned her head to look at the girl. She was laughing hard. For a moment, she considered the possibility that she might be hysterical. Then, despite herself, she felt her lips curl into a smile, and she chuckled into the steering wheel. As Anita laughed even louder, slapping her hand repeatedly on her thigh, Lisa gave in. She sat up and began to laugh too. The pair of them laughed until it hurt … until snot dripped from their noses, tears poured down their cheeks and they were choking and gasping for breath.
Each time they began to calm down, they would look at each other and start again. Lisa knew it was weird and inappropriate, but that somehow made it even funnier and harder to stop. She knew it probably was hysteria, but it felt good. It felt like a huge build-up of tension and emotion was finally being released.
When they eventually recovered, they sat quietly for a while, wiping their eyes and noses on their sleeves.
"Jesus! What was that?" Anita muttered.
"We'd better get going." Lisa broke the silence, straightening herself into a more comfortable position and checking her face in the mirror. "Shall we keep going down this lane and try to get back onto the A45 further up?"
"Might as well," Anita replied. "We can't go back the way we've come. I think Brian was right. This is bad, and I don't think this journey is going to be as easy as we thought. D'you think we should even head back to the farm and wait there for a bit?"
"Maybe, but that still means going back the way we've come. Besides, what about Brian? We need to get help for him. Let's just press on and see what it's like. If we get into trouble again, then that's still an option."
"Ok. Your call."
They carried on down Coal Pit Lane for a few miles. It was a narrow, tree-lined, winding road with few buildings or turn-offs other than the occasional cottage or driveway. They saw no signs of life, infected or otherwise. They toyed briefly with the idea of stopping at one of the houses to see if they could get help but were too afraid to stop for fear of what they might find. Eventually, they reached another T-junction on a sharp bend. Lisa paused, to decide which direction to take. She was about to take the right turn, which would take them back to the A45, when a car sped round from their left. It careered past so quickly that they couldn't see the occupants and presumed that they hadn't seen them either.
Lisa followed the car, not saying anything, but feeling slightly more positive, now that they had seen their first vehicle, apparently being driven by other healthy, living people. What was more, it was heading in the same direction as they were.
Sure enough, a few minutes later they reached the large dual carriageway. It was solid with traffic and they came to a stop at the back of a queue of cars waiting to join it. Lisa felt weird. Confused. One minute they'd been driving around like the only people in a crazy new world full of walking dead people, and now they were sitting in a traffic jam.
"Thank God," she murmured.
"Thank you, Jesus. People!" Anita concurred.
The London-bound carriageway was nose-to-tail with cars heading south, away from the city. Most cars seemed to be waiting to get into that stream of traffic. Anita got out, and approached the car in front, the one that had just passed them at the junction. A man in his fifties was in the driver's seat with a woman of a similar age beside him. They both ignored her and continued to look straight ahead.
Anita tapped on the glass. "Excuse me, can you help us?"
Their backs stiffened and they continued to stare straight ahead. The woman fiddled with her glasses and the driver eased the car a few inches forward. She tapped again.
"What's wrong with you? We need help. Please!"
The woman opened her window a few centimetres. She was trembling. "We all need help sweetheart. You'd better get back in your car."
She held Anita's gaze for a moment and added pointedly, "It's not safe out here."
She closed the window and her husband moved the car forward again, as another one somewhere down the line had slipped into the flow.
Anita stood and looked at the car in astonishment. She started to walk after it, then stopped when she saw a clearly infected man staggering around at the head of the queue. He was moving between the cars, clawing at doors and windows, moaning and growling. The cars began to rev their engines, edging and pushing to get away and out onto the main road. Someone sounded their horn, and someone else shouted. The man became more agitated, banging on the back-passenger windscreen of one of the cars. Children screamed. Anita hastily retreated back into the X-Trail, slamming the door and fastening her seatbelt.
"What did they say?" Lisa asked.
"Nothing. They're scared. Just as scared as us."
"I think we should keep moving."
"Definitely." Anita nodded toward the infected man. "We should get outta here before some of his mates turn up."
"Look, most traffic's going south. We actually need to go north, back towards Coventry. There seems to be hardly any traffic going that way. Let's give it a try?"
"Whatever you think. Just go." Anita shuffled in her seat, frowning, clearly anxious to get moving.
They left the queue and took a turn off to the left. Another couple of turns
