Surviving the Fall: How England Died by Stephen Cross Page A

they ain’t Johnny and Gaz anymore.”
    “Ellie’s right,” said Angie. “We can’t just stay in this room, we have to find a way to, well, get rid of them,” said Angie, the last part of her sentence whispered.
    Mac rubbed his brow, deep in thought. “Ok, so here’s the situation. I can hardly walk, God know’s how long ’til it gets better, You can’t walk,” he looked at Angie, “and you are very pregnant,” he said To Ellie. “Those buggers are tricky, that can move fast when they want to.”
    They sat in silence for a while.
    “Seven,” said Ellie as a new plume rose from the town.
    “You’re in about best shape, Ellie,” said Mac. “How would you feel about braining some of those, what you call them, infected?”
    Ellie said, “It would be a pleasure.”

Chapter 7
     
    Ellie held the crowbar in her hand, felt the weight, and took a few practice swings. It felt good to have something to do but sit around and think. She didn’t want to think anymore. She wanted revenge.
    Mac talked through the plan once more.
    “Ok Ellie, you go into your bedroom, close the door, make sure they can’t see you. Me and Angie will open our bedroom door a gap, keep the dresser up against it and start making hell of a racket, get them up here.
    “Once they’re busy trying to get at us through the gap, you come out of your room, and finish them off from behind. Easier that way.”
    Ellie nodded. There were butterflies in her stomach, but her mind was calm and clear. Gaz and Johnny weren’t the ones that had got Ed, but they would do. It was the same virus, and getting rid of these two would kill a little bit of it.
    “Remember Ellie, super quiet. They can move on a penny, nearly got me this morning. Got poor Gaz no problem. He was only on the floor for a second.
    “Now, let me see that swing again.”
    She pulled back the crowbar and swung once, twice, with the flat end of the crowbar. Mac had warned her against using the bent end - “It’ll get stuck in the brain.”
    Her back hurt a little when she swung, but then it had hurt for the past few months. No difference there.
    “Let’s get started,” said Ellie.
    Mac pushed against the dresser and moved it a foot. He prised the door open slowly and poked his head through the gap. He looked up and down the corridor.
    “All clear. You sure you want to do this?”
    Ellie nodded.
    Mac pushed the dresser back a further foot so that Ellie could squeeze out.
    “Good luck,” said Angie quietly.
    “Remember, they won’t see you coming.”
    Ellie pushed her way into the corridor. She heard the dresser being pushed back into position and the door was jammed shut so only a small gap was showing.
    “Ok,” came Mac’s hushed voice.
    Ellie walked the few yards to the next room, on the opposite side of the corridor. She opened the door carefully and peered into the room before entering. It was empty.
    She went in and pulled the door to, leaving a slight gap so she could see out to Mac and Angie’s room.
    It  was so quiet. Ellie heard her heartbeat and the ringing in her ears. Was this what the world would be like from now on, silent? Had everything stopped?
    “Ok Mac,” she threw her whisper across the corridor.
    There was few more moment’s silence, and then Mac and Angie started to bang against their door, and yell. “Hey! Hey! Up here, come on! Hey!”
    Their voices, Mac’s low timbre and Angie’s high falsetto, worked in unison to create a racket. All Ellie had to do was wait, surely the infected would be along soon.
    Her heart started to beat in double time, and she held her belly. Doubt raced across her mind, what the hell was she doing?
    The only thing I can do, she thought. Killing these two and then locking down in the pub was the best way she could protect her baby. Tears began to flow. Thoughts of everything that could, and should, have been with her and Ed flashed through her mind, taking on a vivid reality, so real they felt almost like memories.