Squatters by David K. Roberts & David Roberts

Author:David K. Roberts & David Roberts [Roberts, David K. & Roberts, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-21T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13 – The Road Less Trodden

It was spooky; the roads with which Claire was most familiar were empty; south of Bromley at this hour that was simply unheard of. Occasionally they would see a car hurtle across an intersection in front of them, but that was really all there was. Claire was a cautious and scrupulously legal driver; today she exemplified the definition of caution, her every move at a junction carefully planned and calculated. Every intersection she came to was a performance; she would pause, looking both ways like some Highway Code advert, even if the lights were in her favour.

James forced himself not to react. He had a driver’s licence but without a car, or the need for one, he was more frequently a passenger than driver and knew the excruciating penalty for criticising his love’s skills and motoring decisions. Instead he forced himself to stay calm and silent, crushing the screaming voice inside his head urging him to beg for more speed. If they never made it to his in-laws’ then speed, at least their own, wouldn’t be the cause.

They made their way out of the ‘burbs in silence, thinking about what was and what might be. James felt a little numb at this moment, his brain still struggling to comprehend the reality around them. He remembered back to an instance a few months ago when they’d been sat watching the telly around ten in the evening and a power cut had struck. The darkness was so complete he had been enveloped in a morbid curiosity, wondering if he’d just died - even when he’d heard Claire’s voice calling out to him, it could have been retreating life and his brain shutting down. He sat there for a moment relishing the tranquillity of it; at least until Claire’s little pen torch hit him in the eyes. Right now he wished someone could shine a proverbial pen torch in his eyes. He really wanted to wake up and for things to be back to normal, mediocre as that was.

Having nothing else to do, James stared out the window, watching the houses slide by, road by achingly slow road. After a while he noticed people walking aimlessly on the pavement and assumed they were infected. He would peer into the odd house fire they would pass, watching dispassionately as people burned, not seeming to care as they were consumed. He watched as one or two of these vacant corpses would approach too close to the flames, their wet clothes and flesh smoking and steaming and catching light before, James suspected, the slugs within realised the danger and somehow steered the pliant carcass away from the heat. It was still raining lightly so people fires would only last a few moments before extinguishing producing wafts of greasy steam instead. James kept the aircon recycled air on, preferring that to the fresh stink of barbequing corpses.

As James and Claire passed some would halt and stare as Claire’s mint ice-cream car passed by, before continuing in whatever purpose they had.

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