by Tim Flanagan
'How long would it take for the creatures to develop a fully functioning adaptation to the skin that would enable them to go out during the day?' Tracker asked Steven.
'I don’t know. It could be weeks, but it could also be a matter of days.’
'All the more reason to get out of here as soon as possible then.'
'What if they are waiting for us?' Georgia asked again.
'We have to take that chance,’ replied Steven. ‘I think they've all gone for now, but I can’t be one hundred percent sure.'
'That’s the last of the stones,' said Tracker. As soon as I open the door, we make ourselves vulnerable to attack so we must be ready to go. Are all the guns loaded?' Tracker was eager to get out of the Keep and back on the road.
'Yes,' said Steven.
'The bags of supplies are ready too,' said Shirley.
There was a clicking sound as the hammer was pulled back on a rifle ready to be fired immediately if necessary. The sound echoed in the empty chamber as everyone held their breath ready for the next stage.
Tracker reached up for the bolt at the top of the door and began wiggling it back and forth, gently teasing it out of the lock in the frame.
He then waited, and listened.
There didn’t appear to be any sounds coming from outside so he carefully pulled the door open until a thin bright shaft of light cut through the darkness and into the chamber. After working in the dim light of the morning their eyes were not accustomed to the brightness so they squinted to shield their eyes until they adjusted.
Tracker forced himself to keep looking out, despite the brightness making his eyes water - he didn’t want to leave himself vulnerable.
Still there was nothing.
'It looks like the cars have been left alone,' he whispered to the others.
He opened the door wider and threw the empty can of baked beans from last nights feast out onto the walkway. He closed the door slightly so that he could watch through the crack. The can clattered and rolled on the wooden walkway, but the sound and the appearance of the can didn’t receive a reaction from any creatures that might be hiding.
He waited again. Still nothing happened.
Being extra cautious, Tracker threw a stale crust of bread towards the cars and waited once more.
Again, nothing happened.
He was just about to open the door for them to leave the Keep when he began to hear a tiny shrill of a bell being rung. It was getting louder and louder, nearer and nearer. The sound confused Tracker. He recognised the sound - it was one that most people hear every day, but its presence was so out of place it didn’t seem right. It sounded like the jangle of metal tags on the collar of a dog.
Sure enough a golden coated labrador dog ran up to the crust of bread nearest the cars, grabbed it then sprinted over towards one of the outer boundary walls, providing itself with some protection.
Tracker waited for a few seconds to see what would happen to the dog but no creatures came to attack it. He opened the door some more and took a nervous step out of the Keep, looking at the wall above the door to make sure there were no creatures clinging there, but all seemed peaceful. Slightly more confidently, he walked out onto the wooden walkway, finger poised on the trigger of his gun. He checked all around him, as far as his eyes could see, then nodded towards the door.
The second person to leave was Shirley, armed defiantly with a rock in each fist, then Georgia with Steven leaning on her shoulder, trying not to put too much weight on his damaged ankle. Finally, Annie emerged from the darkness but hesitated in the doorframe.
'Come on,' beckoned Georgia. 'They've gone. Let's get back to the car.'
From the base of the wall the dog watched the humans with interest, but kept a wary distance. It had learnt rapidly that it needed to be a lot more cautious if it wanted to survive in this strange new world.
Annie took a couple of cautious steps out of the Keep but stayed close to Georgia's side as they began to make their way down the steps. Steven, Annie and Shirley got into the cars whilst Georgia and Tracker went back to the Keep and gathered the bags together. Once the cars were loaded, they settled into the driving seats as they had done the day before.
Tracker began to drive away from the Keep, swinging the Range Rover in a wide arc over the grass and some ancient stone walling that was embedded in the ground, closely followed by the other car.
'Wait!' shouted Annie from inside the second car.
Georgia thrust her foot onto the brake pedal and the car lurched to a stop once more. Steven had already begun to rapidly survey the sky, expecting to see creatures circling or perched menacingly on the outer walls of the Keep ready to attack them, but he couldn’t see anything.
'What about the dog?' asked Annie. 'We can’t leave it here on its own. It will die.'
Georgia looked at Steven.
'It might be useful,' Georgia said to him. 'Dogs have a sixth sense. He will know there's danger approaching before we do.'
Steven nodded.
The walkie-talkie on Steven's lap cracked into life.
'Why have you stopped?' Shirley's voice asked. Steven looked over to the black Range Rover that had also stopped as it was going between a gap in the wall towards the entrance. He could see the faces of Tracker and Shirley peering through the glass of the car, checking for any creatures in the sky.
'We're going to see if the dog will come with us,' Steven replied into the mouth piece. 'It might be able to detect the creatures before we can see them.'
There was a pause.
'Good idea,' crackled the reply.
Georgia and Annie got out of the car. Georgia didn’t know if the dog would be hostile or not - after all, it had experienced exactly the same horrors and threats as they had, but somehow managed to survive. Annie was more upbeat and less wary and had grabbed a pack of cold ham from the bag of supplies to use to tempt it.
They walked slowly towards the dog. It watched them cautiously, waiting for any sign of danger, ready to sprint away to safety if it needed to. Annie pulled a piece from the ham and threw it over to the dog, all the time calmly talking to it. The dog sniffed the meat, warily keeping its eyes on the humans, then took the food in its mouth. Annie threw a second piece, which it took less cautiously. Then she approached it with another, this time offering it on the palm of her hand. The dog took a hesitant step forward to sniff the food, then withdrew, before moving in again. This time it took the food. Trusting Annie slightly more, it now allowed her to stroke the fur at the back of its neck whilst it ate what remained of the pack of cooked meat. Realising that it was in no danger from them it trotted beside Annie as they went back towards the car. From the bags in the back Annie got a couple of biscuits out and placed them on the back seat. Still slightly cautious, the dog leapt in and began eating. Annie got in next to it and they settled down together, sharing their warmth and catching up with sleep that until now, had been a fragmented and frightening thing.
Both of the Range Rovers left Conisbrough Castle behind as they headed back along the road they had driven the previous night, to join back up with the A1 once again.
13. The Shop Assistant
The two Range Rovers drove south along the A1, dodging more abandoned cars and overturned lorries as they went. They were making good progress, trying desperately to get as many miles in before the light began to fade and the creatures came out once more. Tonight, they planned to get off the road before they were spotted, hiding discretely and in relative safety. They jumped from one carriageway to the other, wherever the way through looked the easiest. Shirley had left her road atlas in the Keep at Conisbrough Castle, as it had begun to disintegrate since hitting the creature across the face the night before. It was left to Steven to find potential safe houses for the night. He worked his way across the pages circling castles, fortresses, prisons and military bases, not knowing when they would be able to stop, but having potential places planned, each within ten miles of the other.
By
lunchtime, they had managed to drive about forty-five miles south to Grantham before they decided to take a break. Both cars needed more fuel so they turned into a road-side service station. Above the pumps in the forecourt the metal frame that supported the flat roof was exposed where metal panels had been torn down and were missing. One panel hung dangerously above them, swinging gently in the breeze with a repetitive squeak. At the pumps, driverless cars still had fuel pipes inserted in them, but no one to squeeze the handle. Tracker was the first to get out. He began unhooking some of the other cars from the pumps and moving them out of the way so that Georgia could begin filling the Range Rovers up.
Shirley and Annie emptied a bag from the back of each car and took them inside the shop to look for more supplies. Annie and the dog had built up a good rapport. She had found out from the tag on his collar that his name was Mason. He trotted obediently beside Annie's legs, nervously glancing at the sky or jumping at the faintest of sounds. They pushed one of the glass doors open and stepped inside the shop. Some of the shelves had gaping holes where food had been knocked off and was now scattered across the floor, but overall the inside of the shop appeared relatively untouched in comparison to the chaos outside. They walked down separate aisles, filling their bags with anything that wouldn’t perish. Annie spotted a donut stand at the far end of the counter, together with a coffee machine and made her way over to it. She stuffed a sticky ring donut greedily into her mouth, then gathered an assorted tray of different flavours to take outside for the others. She then placed a polystyrene cup into the coffee machine and pressed a button to see if it was working. An encouraging beep was followed by a hissing sound as piping hot coffee poured into the cup.
'There are drinks here,' Annie said excitedly to Shirley. 'Even hot chocolate!'
'It must be running off a back up generator.' Shirley sighed with pleasure, 'I would love a good cup of tea.'
Annie nodded, placed another cup in the machine and pressed the button marked for tea.
The machine whirred into action once again. When it stopped, Annie noticed another sound that had been masked by the coffee machine. A low guttural growl was coming from Mason which sent a shiver of fear down Annie’s spine. She looked down at him and noticed that the fur along his back was standing upright and his lips were pulled back exposing his teeth. The sudden realisation that they might not be alone inside the service station shop flashed through her brain. Mason’s eyes were fixed on an aisle of refrigerators. Half scared and not really wanting to know what it was that Mason had noticed, Annie reluctantly followed his gaze.
Wedged between the end of the refrigerator and a cupboard was a young man, curled up in the foetal position sobbing silently to himself.
Annie crouched down and stroked the back of Mason's head.
'It's ok,' she whispered into the dog's ear. 'Calm down.'
Cautiously she began to walk down the aisle towards the end. She could see that the man was dressed in the navy blue uniform that shop attendants were required to wear. His hands clutched at clumps of greasy blonde hair, as he tried to hide behind his forearms.
'Hey,' Annie said loudly so that the man could hear her. 'Are you hurt?'
The man opened a red rimmed eye and looked towards Annie.
'I'm not here,' he said between sobs, turning his face away.
'Yes, you are,' replied Annie. 'I can see you.'
'Don't come near me!'
'Careful, Annie,' Shirley added, who had also now noticed the man behind the fridge.
'If they don’t know I'm here, they'll leave me alone,' said the man, his voice slightly muffled by his arms.
'The creatures don’t come out during the day. You're safe,' Annie reassured him.
'What if they followed you? Please leave me.' He sobbed some more.
'We can’t leave you on your own.' With Mason at her side, Annie edged nearer to the man. 'There are others that have survived. You're not alone.'
'I don’t want to die. I saw what happened to the other people. I'm scared.' The man nervously turned his face towards Annie and opened his eyes once again, cautiously watching. He tried desperately to push himself further into the gap with every step that Annie took nearer to him.
'Come on out, we won’t hurt you.' Annie offered the man her hand, trying to encourage him to come out. 'My mum and dad have gone and I'm scared of the creatures too, but I'm more afraid of being alone. We’re going to London. There are more survivors there. Come with us.'
Annie reached forward some more and slowly, but with a lot of hesitation and uncertainty, the man pulled his hand away from his hair and placed it in Annie’s. Now that his face was more exposed, Annie could see that he wasn’t a man at all, just a spotty teenage kid who was probably on his first job out of school.
Slowly and stiffly he stood up. Annie could see a badge on his chest that read, 'Dylan. Here to help.' There were holes in the badge where stars could be attached for good attendance and hard work, but so far they were all empty. He pulled a blue baseball cap that matched the rest of his uniform out from his pocket and slid it over his head. Annie didn't know if he was about to charge her for the donut she had just eaten, or whether he was still trying to hide beneath the stiffened visor.
'You look like you need a hot chocolate and a donut, Dylan,' said Annie with a smile. 'Come and meet the others.'
Annie led Dylan outside. He was still reluctant to leave the shop, constantly twitching and glancing upwards to the sky, but slowly, with some encouragement, he walked onto the forecourt. Tracker and Georgia had filled up both of the cars with fuel, as well as some jerry-cans they found at the front of the shop, and were casually chatting. Steven had also got out of the car and was hobbling around, stretching his legs and back as he attempted to put more weight onto his damaged ankle. All of them turned towards Annie and Shirley, surprised to see that they were accompanied by someone else.
'Everyone, this is Dylan. He managed to hide from the shadows inside the shop,' said Annie.
'Hello, Dylan,' replied Steven hobbling towards the shop assistant. He could see the boy was scared and nervous, so tried to say something reassuring. 'I know it’s all a bit strange what’s happened, but try not to worry, you are safe until the creatures come out again tonight. We have weapons to fight them and intend to find somewhere to stay before the sun goes down. We’re heading to London where another group of survivors are gathering. Why don't you come with us?'
'I don’t know,' replied Dylan in a shaky voice. 'I'm not sure,' he glanced back at the shop that had become his home.
'You can't hide in there forever.'
Annie passed the tray of donuts round while Shirley went back into the shop and got everyone a hot drink. Together, they sat on the front bonnet of the cars eating and drinking. Gradually Dylan began to relax and helped stack the cans, packaged food and bottled water into the back of the two cars until they were full to capacity.
As they were getting the cars ready for the next stage of driving, Georgia unexpectedly stopped talking. She turned her head towards the road and was listening to something else. Steven noticed she had gone quiet so began to listen too.
'What is it?' he asked her.
'Shhh.' Georgia put her finger up towards her lips.
The others had also now stopped talking.
Coming from somewhere in the distance, was a faint metallic scraping sound accompanied by the occasional high pitched smashing of glass.
'What's that sound?' asked Dylan, who began to look nervous all over again.
'Whatever it is, it's coming this way,' replied Tracker. He put his hand on Dylan's shoulder, trying to be reassuring. 'Don't worry. Let's move back into the shop, out of sight and wait to see what it is.'
Steven, Georgia and Tracker each grabbed a weapon and followed the others into the shop. They crouched behind one of the long display shelves that ran parallel to the front window and moved some of the products until there were sufficient gaps for them to get a clear view of the f
orecourt and the A1 beyond.
Then they waited.
The sound became louder and more intense. It seemed to be a mixture of metal crushing and scraping, together with a throaty revving sound of a large diesel engine. From where they were hiding they began to see abandoned cars on the southbound carriageway beginning to move, but not in a normal way. Some seemed to be mounting other cars, whilst others were being flipped onto their side. They then saw a large snow-plough making its way past the service station. It cut a path through the abandoned cars, piling them casually at the side of the road.
Within seconds it was gone.
'Why didn't we think of that?' Tracker asked Steven with a smile on his face. 'Follow that snow-plough!'
'Let's hope it's heading for London too,' added Georgia. 'It will certainly make our journey quicker.'
They all jumped up and threw the last of their items into the back of the cars. Dylan now joined Shirley and Tracker in theirs, although he was still a bit hesitant to leave what he thought was a safe place and move into the unknown.
The Range Rovers left the service station and cruised at a steady speed in the path that had been created by the snow-plough.
14. Progress to Audley End
It didn't take long before the snow-plough came back into view.
'I don’t think it’s a good idea to get too close,' Steven said over the walkie-talkie. Although the plough was making their own progress quicker, he didn’t want to be seen by other survivors until they could be sure they weren't hostile.
'I think it’s already too late,' replied Shirley. 'The plough has stopped. It's now blocking the road ahead.'
'Tracker, what do you think? Should we turn around?' asked Steven.
'It would waste too much time. It would mean finding another route to London that would take even longer. I say we chance it and approach,' answered Tracker via Shirley's walkie-talkie.
'Look,' said Georgia. The cab of the snow-plough had opened and the figure of a man stood on the sill of the door looking in their direction with what looked like a gun in his hand.