“Home,” Jackson replied.

8

Several hours later, Bob Wilkins ushered Driver into another part of the castle. Once part of a small museum space used as an onsite classroom by visiting schools, its size and relative comfort had resulted in it being adopted for use as a communal lounge by the current occupants of the ancient building. Driver waited in the doorway, feeling unexpectedly nervous, and Bob gently pushed him through. There were four other people in the room already, and he felt like a definite outsider.

“Come on in, love,” Sue Preston said to him as she carried in a tray of food and drinks from the adjoining cafe and kitchen. “No standing on ceremony here.”

Driver did as she said and walked a little farther, stopping again when he caught sight of his reflection in a window. He had to look twice to be sure it really was him. He’d almost forgotten what he looked like. Since arriving at the castle earlier he’d managed to shave for the first time in weeks, and one of the others—a lady called Shirley—had hacked at his long hair with a pair of scissors. He still wore his bus driver’s uniform overcoat as he had almost every day since the beginning, partially because it was warm, but mainly because he didn’t have anything else.

Jackson was sitting with another man in front of a paraffin heater which glowed a comforting orange. Even from here Driver could feel the heat it was producing. It was warmer than anything he’d felt in weeks. Jackson looked around, then beckoned him over, pulling up another chair. Driver sat down, still feeling unexpectedly uncomfortable.

“This is Kieran,” Jackson said, introducing the man sitting on Driver’s right. “Kieran, this is Tony.”

“I prefer Driver.”

“How’re you doing?” Kieran asked as they shook hands.

“Been better, been worse,” he replied, giving little away.

“Smoke?” Jackson offered.

“No thanks. Bad for you.”

“Coffee?” Sue asked, leaning between them with a tray.

“Now that I won’t say no to,” Driver said quickly, taking a mug and reveling in its warmth and its bitter taste. He sipped the drink and stared at the glowing heater, trying to work out how he’d managed to get from yesterday’s nightmare to here.

“Something wrong?”

Driver shook his head and glanced over at Jackson.

“Just doesn’t feel right, that’s all.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Sitting in a place like this, with people like you, enjoying a drink in front of the fire like nothing’s happened.”

“If therw he?s somewhere else you’d rather be…”

“No,” Driver said quickly, “of course not.”

He drank more of his coffee—almost hiding behind it—and remembered the people he’d left behind at the hotel. He wondered what state they were in right now. Assuming, of course, they were still alive.

“It takes folks a few days to get used to being here,” Jackson said. “It’s a bit of a culture shock. Thing is, the castle is safer than most other places.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“No, seriously, it is. The dead just can’t get up here, apart from the few that make it up the road. The only downside of being somewhere as good as this, is it gives you time to think.”

“Tell me about it,” Driver said quietly. “I’ve been doing too much of that myself recently.”

“Anything you want to share?”

Driver paused before answering.

“This time yesterday,” he eventually said, feeling like he was confessing, “I was sitting in that bus out there, freezing cold, wondering if there was any point going on. I didn’t have a bloody clue what I was going to do next. The night before that I spent hiding in a cafe. The night before that I spent sitting in a truck. Before that it was a hotel…”

“So what point are you making?”

“You just get used to running, don’t you? You forget how to stop.”

“Well, maybe it’s time we all got used to stopping again,” Jackson said, putting a reassuring hand on Driver’s shoulder.

“It’s been the best part of two months since all this started,” Kieran said, his tone a little harsher than Jackson’s, abrasive almost. “You’ve told us about the last few days. Where were you before that?”

“Spent most of the time in a block of flats.”

“And why did you leave?”

“Same reason anyone leaves anywhere these days. A few thousand dead folk outside the front door that didn’t want to leave us alone.”

“Us?”

“That’s right.”

“So what happened to the others?”

Kieran’s tone was almost accusatory now, and Jackson reeled him in quickly.

“Take it easy, mate. Driver here’s had a tough day.”

“They’re all tough days now,ustifieran said, unimpressed. “So what happened? Where are they?”

“We left the flats when the bodies got too close.”

“How many of you?”

Driver paused as he tried to remember. Picturing the faces of each of the people he’d been at the flats with stretched the pause out a little longer still.

“Eight.”

“And you’re all that’s left?”

“So where did you go?” Jackson asked, quickly taking over the questioning. “You said something about a hotel?”

“That’s right. Over in Bromwell. We found more people there.”

“How many more?”

Another endless pause. Jackson rocked back in his chair as he waited for Driver to answer. He was having trouble remembering. Christ, Jackson thought, we’ve all been through a lot, but this is like getting blood out of a stone.

“Five,” he answered, finally. “And a dog.”

“So that’s thirteen of you altogether.”

“And a dog,” Kieran added sarcastically. Jackson shot him a withering glance.

“So where are they all?”

“Don’t know for sure about all of them,” Driver replied. “Things were getting bad, same as they always do. I knew the situation was most likely about to go shit-shaped, so I shut myself away in one of the rooms. Kept my distance from the rest of them.”

“You hid?”

“If you like. You could say that. Thing is, sometimes it’s better just to keep yourself to yourself, don’t you think?”

That comment caught Jackson off-guard momentarily. He happened to agree.

“Okay, cut to the chase,” he said, his patience wearing thin. “Just tell us what happened. What happened to all the others?”

“I’m not entirely sure. They’d been keeping the bodies out of the way for a while, distracting them with music.”

“Smart move.”

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