Rows of distorted faces pressed against the fence, grasping through the bars with torn and bloodied hands. Lisa's fear and mental paralysis gave way to sheer terror and despair with the gradual realisation that they had driven straight into the middle of a nightmare. After all they'd been through, they were in as much, if not more, danger now as they had ever been.
Anita had her head down and was repeating the same words over and over. "We're going to die … We're going to die … We're going to die … We're going to die …"
"We're not, Nita! We're going to do this! Look!"
Straight ahead a cluster of dirty green vehicles and piles of sandbags blocked the road. Armed men, dressed in the same shade of dirty green, were standing or crouching around the blockade. One was furiously waving them. As they approached, two others stood up and pointed their guns directly at them. The first came to Lisa's window, signalling at her to lower it. She obliged.
"Just where do you ladies think you're going?"
"We're trying to get to Solihull. To the motorway."
"No way, Ladies, you need to go back. Now!"
"Please ..." Lisa started.
"Turn around and get out of here, now!"
In the background, was a burst of what Lisa thought sounded like gunfire, although she'd only ever heard it before on TV.
"We have a really sick man in the back. Please can you help us?"
The soldier peered into the back of the car. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone softening a little. "I can't let you through. We're evacuating the city and we can't let anyone back in."
The gunfire intensified behind him. He glanced over his shoulder.
"You need to get into the countryside like everyone else …" He pointed at the traffic queue.
"Where there are less people and less infected. Designated Emergency Centres are being set up. Keep tuned into the Radio and TV. You should head to one of them. Look, Darling. It's out of control in there. It's overrun. You wouldn't last five minutes. You'll have to go back the way you've come. I'm sorry." He turned and walked away.
The two soldiers with their guns pointed at them remained in position.
"Jesus!" Anita was out of the car before Lisa could react. She started to follow the soldier. The other two raised their weapons higher and pointed them at her.
"Get back in the car!" one of them shouted. "Get back in the car … right now!"
Anita hesitated.
"Anita, get back in! Don't be stupid!" Lisa called to her.
One of the soldiers took a step towards her, and Anita stepped back. He indicated towards the car with his weapon. Unbelievably to Lisa, she gave him the finger before reluctantly getting back in.
"Jesus!" she muttered, slamming herself back into her seat, bristling with rage.
"We've got to go back, Nita. They're not going to let us through."
Lisa manoeuvred the car to face back up the empty carriageway they'd just come down. A few other cars had made their way through a gap in the crash barrier and were now heading south on the northbound side. They followed them.
They had barely travelled a few hundred metres when a low gurgling moan emanated from the back of the car.
Anita glanced behind her and screamed so loudly Lisa nearly lost control.
"Stop! Stop the car! Get out! Run, Lisa!"
Lisa hit the brakes and the car lurched into a stall. Anita grabbed the shotgun and was out of the car in an instant, sprinting across the road towards the Holiday Inn on their right.
Shaking and fumbling with the release button for what seemed like an eternity, Lisa struggled out of her seat belt. She didn't look behind her, but she could hear and sense the movement in the back seat. Just as she got her door open, her head was yanked back as Brian grabbed her hair. Screaming and struggling to get free, only the headrest protecting her from his snarling and snapping teeth, she managed to kick the door open. Still screaming, she threw herself out, sprawling onto the tarmac. Hair ripped from her scalp. Scrambling to her feet, she slammed the door shut against his angry grey-green face. It pressed against the glass, features distorted with hate, eyes glassy and bloodshot, open snarling mouth drooling with frothy blood-stained sputum.
She ran for her life.
She followed Anita past the hotel entrance. The lobby was teeming with infected, pushing and shoving against the glass doors. Dodging cars and a couple of infected, she ran through the car park to where Anita was waiting by a low, wire fence.
Clambering over the fence and barging through a hedge, they burst into a field and ran. They ran until they couldn't run any more … ran until they fell to the ground gasping for breath in the cover of a cluster of trees.
They didn't speak for a while. Anita was on her hands and knees, head down, panting. Lisa lay flat on her back beside her. She was struggling to breathe. She forced herself to stand up, leant against a tree, and closed her eyes. Her mouth was dry. Her head reeling. She shook her inhaler. It sounded empty but she took a puff anyway.
Stunned by how things had gone so wrong, so quickly, she tried to think.
Her head was a jumble of confusion and questions.
They'd lost the car. There were infected everywhere. It was way worse than they'd thought. She was still miles from home. She had absolutely no idea where they were. It was a complete mess. They were worse off than ever.
She was furious with herself. She'd been stupid ... stupid and irresponsible, dragging Anita along with her in her
