“That’s the problem. No one has any idea and the guy who originally suggested it took off on his own to find his family. So keep an eye out for any road signs that might help us. I’m going to head towards Nottingham. See if we can find the Sherwood Foresters or, at the very least, a petrol station that isn’t overrun. The Foresters are a pretty big regiment, right?”
Nick shrugged. He had no idea. He looked out at the road ahead and was glad to see that it was clear for the time being. There might finally be time to take a breather. Although the chance to sit and think things through in detail, to reflect on the day’s terrible events, was not something he was looking forward to.
James…
Deana…
“You mind if I take a seat, Dave? I’m dead on my feet.”
“Take a load off, my friend. If I need something, I’ll let you know.”
He went over and took a seat beside Eve. The girl was currently leant up against the window, examining the scenery as it rushed by.
“I’m filthy,” she said without turning away from the window.
Nick stared at her. “What?”
She stretched out her legs to show the mud that covered her jeans from the ankles to the knees. “Look at me. I need a shower. Need to wash my hair. It’s disgusting.”
“Big picture, Eve. People are dead, or at least in much worse shape than you. You can clean yourself up later.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re my fucking dad, or something.”
Nick felt himself snarl. “I’m not your fucking dad. My only child died this morning on my goddamn kitchen floor, and all you can do is moan about some dirt under your nails.”
Eve folded her arms grumpily and grunted. It was obvious she had no interest in speaking to him unless he was ready to indulge her complaints.
Fair enough. Guess there’s no reason for us to be bosom buddies now that our life-and-death experience is over. She can go back to being a stroppy teenager and I can go back to being an adult.
Nick rose up from his seat and switched over to the other side of the bus, taking a seat just in front of a middle-aged woman in the tattered remnants of a grey blouse. A colourful scarf lay on the seat beside her. It was covered in blood that seemed to merge with the floral pattern. He smiled at the woman as he settled into the threadbare cushion in front of her.
“Hey,” she said to him wearily. “Welcome to the hell bus.”
Nick chuckled, but it contained no mirth; it was a mere social instinct. “Well, I for one am glad to be a passenger. Beats being where I was before Dave picked me up.”
The woman nodded. “It’s not the bus that’s hell. It’s everything outside the windows.”
Nick looked out of those windows and saw nothing but trees and fields. It was a pleasant view, but he could imagine the things the woman had witnessed on the main roads and in the towns. He understood what she was saying.
“Seen some nasty stuff, huh?” he said. “Me too.”
“I was at the hospital,” she said, staring out of the window blankly, “to pick up my sister. We live together and her car isn’t running. She was working the night shift – she’s a nurse…was a nurse. I was supposed to pick her up this morning.”
Nick could see from her faraway gaze that she was remembering something ghastly. It was a fair guess that it involved the fate of her sibling.
“I’m sorry,” he said, remembering the sight of James dead on the kitchen floor. “I’ve lost people, too. I think a lot of people have. It’s all…very wrong.”
“She was always a bit of a mess, you know, my sister. Never could seem to get her life in order; always sponging off me and wasting her life. I always figured she would find her way eventually, once she had grown up a little more. Now she won’t ever get the chance.”
Nick nodded. “Dave told me he picked someone up from near the hospital. Is your name Pauline?”