“We’ll call out for them on every floor. We may find someone. Or maybe they were here this morning and left a while ago. The important thing is that someone was here. It shows we’re definitely not on our own. Who knows, there may be thousands and thousands of small groups like ours out there.” I grinned at him, buoyed by the optimism of my own words, even though I could sense the emptiness of the building around me. It was true though. It was enough to know that despite everything, people were still trying to survive.
“I won’t be calling out for anyone. If I see someone, that’s fine. But I’m not shouting out.” Nigel’s voice was sullen rather than defiant, and his tone spoilt the value of his comment. “I don’t want to let any widows know we’re here.” His final words were muttered under his breath as he stepped towards the frozen escalator. “Not that you’d have thought of that, no the important thing is that someone was here.” His face twisted as he mimicked me, and I fought the burning desire to punch him hard whilst pushing back the thought of how pleasant it might be if Nigel did come across a widow and save us all a lot of strain.
“Good point. Maybe we’ll be better just looking out for ourselves for now and keeping the noise down.” Dave’s jaw was clenched as he stared at Nigel; his meaning wasn’t lost on me. “But God, I hope we bump into some new allies.”
Nigel was already climbing the steel stairs that someone had thought were important to turn off.
“I need some new clothes. These stink. Shall we start there?”
“Tell you what,” I called up at his retreating figure. “Why don’t you get the outdoor clothing, sweaters, thick socks and walking boots and meet us down here in half an hour? I’ll get the camping equipment, and Dave can get the rest.” I glanced at Dave. “If that’s all right with you, mate.”
The older man nodded. We both needed a little down time from our companion and this seemed the best way to do it. We were stressed enough without having to cope with Nigel on top of everything.
“Fine. That’s what we’ll do then.” I’d walked off before Nigel’s shocked brain could get a whine out about how stupid splitting up was. And maybe he was right, but at that moment I truly didn’t give a shit.
The great thing about John Lewis was that it really did sell just about everything, and good quality everything at that. I had no doubt that we’d get all the items we needed there, and as I trekked up four flights of stairs I was glad that it wasn’t likely that I’d have to go exploring any further into the vast glass wilderness of the shopping centre. Despite my anger at Phelps, the soft shwup of my trainers on the ground beneath me were a reminder with every step that perhaps my idea to split up wasn’t the sanest.
As my breath wheezed in and out, sounding like a poor Darth Vader impersonation in the silence, I ran through the film files in my memory banks, searching for one in which the main characters split up and they all survived. Alien, The Thing, Event Horizon, Scream. Scanning through the relevant scenes of each movie, I didn’t find anything to comfort myself in them. As far as I could tell, if this were a film, then I’d become the character that every audience in the world screamed at to not be so bloody stupid. Right then I was feeling bloody stupid, letting my dislike of Phelps jeopardise my personal safety, not that I was particularly sure that the three of us together would have much more chance against a widow than me on my own, but I preferred the idea of having others around me. Let’s split up. The oldest cliché in the horror film world. And I was the prat that had said it. Still, I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a movie and those rules didn’t necessarily apply. As I finally found myself in front of a range of tents and camping gear, the thought that this was reality and not fiction wasn’t particularly comforting.
As it was, the three of us passed each other a few times as we carried our goods down to the front of the building, silently depositing our heavy loads just beyond the broken glass, nodding with sweating faces when we crossed paths. No one spoke, all of us intent on just finishing off the job as quickly as possible.
I wasn’t sure how much to get, but I erred on the side of safety, and within about forty minutes I’d brought down eight large rucksacks, ten thick quilted sleeping bags neatly folded away in their own carry cases, and three large tents. I didn’t figure anyone would be too insistent on privacy in the nights to come, even the girls. Company was a calming influence, even if it couldn’t guarantee us our safety. I’d found some camping stoves, and after breaking into a safety cupboard managed to find the gas canisters to go with them. The focus and exercise had calmed me, and despite having found no trace of the people that had saved us the job of breaking in, I felt satisfied by our raid and relieved that I hadn’t come across any widows. Relieved was an understatement.
Finally convinced that we’d got just about all we could carry, including a fine array of golf clubs and kitchen knives and choppers rooted out as weapons by Dave, and to be fair a good selection of clothes and boots deposited on our mountain of booty by Nigel, we stood there, as if round a bonfire, panting and glowing.
Dave sniffed, wiping sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. “Right. We’d better get this lot loaded into the truck and meet the others.”
I nodded, and my tired arms reached down to load up.
“I’ll just go and get changed then.” Nigel was still in the same stained suit that he’d arrived in the bowls club in. “I didn’t see the point in new clothes before the sweaty work.”
If I hadn’t been so eager to get out of there, I’d have suggested that we wait for him before starting. Dave looked like he could use a rest and I sure as hell felt like I needed one, and lugging all this equipment out to the Mitsubishi was going to be hard work. Nigel knew that as much as I did and that’s why he’d left finding some new clothes until now. I found that his selfishness was no longer surprising me, and that stopped me getting so annoyed.
“Just be quick,” I grunted, as I shoved the camping stoves, gas and sleeping bags into the large rucksacks and hoisted four of them over my shoulders, leaving my arms free for more.
Ten or so minutes later, as I was heading back from the car after the last trip, Dave stopped me coming the other way, shaking his head.
I stopped, both of us still in the increasingly close warmth outside. “What’s up?”
He glanced over his shoulder, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. “Seeing is believing, Matt. I’m not sure what to make of it myself. I think he’s gone a bit mad. Come on. Have a look for yourself.”
Speeding up to a jog, we passed through the automatic doors into the cool air inside and I turned into the large hall slightly ahead of Dave. There were just a couple of items left to carry outside, and Nigel stood beside them as if debating whether to pick them up.
I paused, confused, and the words came out before I could think of anything more subtle. “What the hell are you wearing that for?”
He turned to me, his expression puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not exactly what I was expecting. Don’t you think something more comfortable might be better? Something a bit more hard-wearing?”
Standing there, he pushed his chin defiantly in the air and looked every inch the pompous businessman. Having ditched his tatty and stained suit, I’d expected him to find some jeans and trainers, but I’d been wrong. Instead he’d just upgraded his original outfit. The sharp suit, probably an Armani, housed a crisp striped shirt, and beneath the jacket I could make out a flash of brightly coloured braces. Shining beneath the hem of his trousers was a pair of well-polished black leather shoes. Perfect for a day in the city, but no grip on the smooth soles. No good for running away quickly, and running away was something I was sure we were going to have to do at some point in the future.
“I’m sorry if you don’t approve, Mr. Edge, but I don’t see how what I wear is any of your business.” The corners of his mouth had turned down slightly in that pout that was becoming unpleasantly familiar. Just what was his problem? Didn’t h
e realise we were all on the same side?
“Look, I don’t give a shit. You can dress up as Wonder Woman for all I care, I just thought something else might be more comfortable for travelling in.”
Mildly placated, he shrugged and crouched to pick up a sleeping bag. Just one of the three left on the floor that he could easily have managed.
“Well, I feel comfortable in this. This is who I am. So I’ll thank you not to mention it again.” The sleeping bag tucked under one arm, he drew himself up and strode past me. His forehead still shone with sweat, but under the artificial lights it seemed to gleam more than previously and it wasn’t until he’d gone by that I realised what it was. He’d put Brill cream on what remained of his hair. That or some other kind of gel.
Dave had come alongside me and picked up the remaining bags. “So, what do you think?”
I watched the departing figure, searching for the right words.
“I think he’s fucking barking.”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself.”
“Come on. Let’s get back to the others.” I pulled the car keys out of my pocket and followed Phelps outside, my brow furrowing. That was all we needed—one of our number to start unravelling beside us.
CHAPTER TEN
The dark windows of the flats a hundred yards or so behind the shimmering modernity of the food hall glinted at us like angry eyes as the Mitsubishi purred into the car park. I ignored them and pulled the truck to a stop at an angle, neither in one bay nor the next. I didn’t figure it mattered too much. Who the hell was going to complain?
George was hoisting a tray of cans into the back of the Range Rover and, looking at the various jars and packets that filled the large boot, I could see they had been busy. He paused as I approached and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his face with.
“It’s getting very sweaty out here. I reckon there’ll be a storm tonight. How did you get on?” He nodded in the direction of the pickup. “Looks pretty full.”
“Yeah, we got most of what was on the list, and a few things that weren’t. We should be okay.” Glancing over my shoulder, I made sure that the others weren’t too close.
“We may have a problem with Nigel, though. He seems a little . . .” I wasn’t sure just how tactful to be, hesitating over the words. “Well, I think he’s cracking.” There it was. Out. And not very tactful at all. “His moods are all over the place, and have you seen what he’s got on? He chose that to change into.”
George’s eyes wandered casually over to where Dave and Nigel stood. “Oh, I see. Yes, I see what you mean. That’s not right at all, is it?” His expression clouded over for a few moments, before clearing slightly. “Well, there’s not really a lot we can do about it for now apart from keep an eye on him. Maybe it’ll pass. It might just be shock.” Raising an eyebrow, he smiled and slapped me gently on the shoulder. “That’s a nice suit he’s got on, though. At least the man has some taste.”
Signalling for Nigel and Dave to follow us, we headed back into the large supermarket.
“We’re just about done in here. John and the ladies are loading bottles of water into trolleys, and that’s the final thing. It seemed to me that we’d better bring some. I’m sure the water systems are okay, but we don’t want to get stranded somewhere with nothing to drink.”
Once again, George Leicester made me feel glad he’d found us. God forbid anything should happen to him, whatever was waiting for us in the future. I wasn’t sure just how well any of us would survive without him. He was the calm in our storm.
“I don’t suppose you found any signs of anyone else being here, did you? The window of John Lewis’s was smashed, but we didn’t come across anyone. Wondered if they might have come here as well.” Up ahead I could see Katie and Jane struggling with a case of plastic water bottles, Dave rushing to help them and Nigel a couple of paces behind. She smiled when she glanced up, but I couldn’t be entirely certain that it was aimed at me. Jane’s enthusiastic wave was, though, and I raised my arm in response.
“No, unfortunately not. No signs of life here. Although we haven’t been to any of the other supermarkets, so maybe Sainsbury’s wasn’t their first choice.” He smiled. “Still, it’s always nice to know we’re not alone. I’m sure we’re bound to come across plenty of others as the days go by. Law of probability would dictate that we’re not alone.”
As the days go by.
George’s words shuddered through me as I watched him head off to tell the others to stop collecting water from the aisles. I couldn’t imagine this new world going on for days and days, stretching out ahead of us into infinity. Somewhere in my subconscious I’d been clinging to the hope that I’d wake up the next morning and everything would be just about back to normal. No Chloe, perhaps—and I wasn’t ready to face the pain of that yet—but I’d been hanging on to the idea that they would have sorted the widows out. They would have put their master plan into action and saved us all. Standing there in the cool air of the deserted supermarket, my slow masculine brain finally accepted what the world had been screaming at me since Chloe came out of the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. The world as I knew it was over. Kaput. Never to be the same again. It was just a matter of survival now. Keeping alive and seeing what happened.
Taking the front end of a full water trolley, I steered it back out to the car park, John pushing from the rear. The boy looked better for having been busy, and the slight pang of jealousy I’d felt earlier now seemed childish and stupid. We were all we had and we needed to stick together.
The others followed in a convoy of wobbling and weaving unruly steel, as if even the shopping trolleys knew they were about to be abandoned to remain unused forever, and were making the most of their last moments of movement. They and we finally arrived at the cars, though, and it wasn’t long before all available space in the vehicles had been filled and three two-litre bottles placed in the foot wells of each car.
“Shall we get out of here?” John pulled off his baseball cap and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair before putting the hat back on.
George nodded. “Nigel, you come with me and Matt.”
Not giving the other man time to argue, he steered him towards the Animal. As much as I disliked Phelps, I knew why the old man had done it. We needed to keep an eye on him, and it was too much of a job for John and the girls. Dave could take the other Range Rover by himself. As it was, Nigel didn’t seem to mind.
“Do you want me to drive?”
I shook my head. “No, you’re all right. You can take the next leg if you like.”
“If you’re sure.” He slid into the back, and I couldn’t help be relieved that it was George that would be up front with me. The oppressive heat was making my skin itch and I couldn’t wait to be started just to get the air-conditioning on. The passenger door slammed shut, and George leaned back in his seat, tugging his seatbelt on.
“Shall we head out towards Buckingham? Get out of the city a bit, and then we can think about where to aim to.”
“Sounds fine to me.” I pulled my own safety belt on, despite the fact that there was no one out there to enforce the law. In a world where it was unlikely any ambulances would come to save you if you ran your car off the road, the Clunk-Click campaign suddenly seemed sensible.
As I turned the key in the ignition, the engine groaned, but failed to roar into life.
“That’s odd.” I tried it again, letting it turn over, waiting for the sluggish rumble to turn into a healthy purr. “Sounds like there’s some kind of blockage.” Twisting the key more aggressively, I swore quietly under my breath. This was all we needed. “I don’t understand. It was working perfectly. It’s a bloody new car.”
“Oh shit.”
The words drifted quietly in through my open driver’s window, and I looked up to see John, his mouth a wide O backing away round to the other side of his Land Rover, just as the suspension rocked slightly beneath us.
Signalling furiousl
y, Dave climbed out of his four-wheel drive, his voice a blur, shouting from too far away. Staring at him quizzically, I finally figured out the last three words
“. . . under the car!”
The car shook again.
“What the fuck was that?” Nigel leaned forward, filling the small gap between the two front seats. “Just what the fuck did that?”
I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to know. “I think something’s under the car.” Something. The word hung in the air. We all had a pretty good idea of what that something might be. Without thinking, I pushed down the lock on my door, and George did the same on his side.
“Oh Christ.” The old man’s normal calm trembled. “Look at that.”
Two white, slick limbs appeared on the bonnet in front of us, tapping and scratching on the paint, the clawed translucent end screeching like fingernails on a blackboard as it dragged itself towards us.
“This might be a good time to do your window up.” He didn’t look at me, just stayed staring ahead.
“I can’t. The electric’s not working.” To make my point I jabbed the button next to the shift stick a few times. It was no good. Struggling with the keys, my hand shook as two more shiny limbs stealthily appeared, followed by the first angry row of red, unnatural eyes. Again the engine could only moan. Nigel made a similar noise as he pushed himself as far back into the rear seats as he could, yanking at the door.
“It won’t open. It won’t open.”
George pulled at the button he had only just pushed down. That too refused to budge. “What is going on? How can it do that? How can it stop the car from unlocking?” Panic was rising in his voice, and with my head filling again with Chloe talking to Helena in our darkened living room, with the knowledge that we barely knew what these things were capable of, my stomach cramped with my own dark fear.
The bank of eyes grew like hateful rising suns, and beyond them was the smooth rounded surface of the thing’s body. “Come on, come on.” I turned the useless key again and again, hoping for something.
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