Conversation had been sparse and forced since the journey had begun and the silence was beginning to deafen Emma. She could see that Michael was having to concentrate hard on his driving (the roads were littered with debris) and Carl seemed preoccupied but she needed to talk. The ominous quiet in the van was allowing her far too much time to think.

‘Have either of you two actually thought about where we might be going?’ she asked.

Neither of the men replied at first. Silently all three of them had been thinking about that question intermittently but there had been so many bizarre distractions that it had proved impossible for anyone to be able to decide anything.

‘I’ve tried to think about it,’ Carl admitted, ‘but I can’t think straight. I get so far and then I see something and…’

His words trailed away into silence. He sounded lost and helpless. Michael glanced into the rear view mirror and watched the other man’s tired eyes as they darted anxiously around. He looked like a frightened little boy.

‘Well we’ve got to decide something soon,’ Emma said. ‘We need some kind of plan, don’t we?’

Michael shrugged his shoulders.

‘I thought we’d got one,’ he replied. ‘Keep driving until we find somewhere safe and then stop.’

‘But what does safe mean?’ she asked. ‘Is anywhere safe?’

‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘You could argue we’d be safe anywhere. There’s only the bodies that are moving to watch out for and they don’t react to us.’

‘But what about disease?’ she continued. ‘They’re starting to rot.’

‘I know they are.’

‘So what are we going to do?’

He shrugged his shoulders again.

‘There’s not a lot we can do. We can’t see the germs so we’ll just have to take our chances.’

‘So what you’re saying is we could stop anywhere?’

He thought for a second.

‘Yes.’

‘So why haven’t we? Why do we just keep driving and…’

‘Because…’ he snapped.

‘Because we’re too bloody frightened,’ she interrupted. ‘Because nowhere is safe, is it? Everywhere might well be empty and we might well be able to pick and choose but that doesn’t matter. Truth is I’m too fucking frightened to get out of this fucking van and so are you two.’

With her sudden and unexpected admission (which both Michael and Carl silently agreed with) the conversation ended.

Three minutes past four.

The slow and laborious afternoon was drawing to a close and Carl knew that it would only be a couple of hours before the light began to fade. When he’d handed the driving duties over to Carl, Michael (who was now curled up on the empty seat in the back of the van, sleeping intermittently) had estimated that they should have reached the west coast in an hour or so. It had now been two and a half hours since they’d swapped places and still there seemed to be nothing ahead of them but endless road and aimless travelling.

It was a cool but bright afternoon. The brilliance of the sun belied the low temperature. It shone down from a slowly sinking position in a sky which was mostly blue but which was dotted with numerous bulbous grey and white clouds. The road glistened with the moisture which remained from a shower of rain they’d passed through a few minutes earlier.

Emma still sat in the front passenger seat, still sitting bolt upright, still scanning the world around them constantly, hoping that she would find them somewhere safe to shelter.

‘All right?’ Carl asked suddenly, making her jump.

‘What?’ she muttered. She was miles away. She’d heard him speak but not heard what he’d said.

‘I asked if you were all right,’ he repeated.

‘Oh,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Is he asleep?’ he asked, gesturing over his shoulder at Michael. Emma glanced back and shrugged.

‘Don’t know.’

At the mention of his name, Michael stirred.

‘What’s the matter?’ he groaned, his speech slurred with exhaustion.

No-one bothered to answer him. He closed his eyes again and tried to sleep.

There was a hand-painted sign at the side of the road. It had been battered by the wind and was only partially visible. As they passed the sign Carl managed to make out the words ‘cafe’, ‘turn’ and ‘2 miles’. He hadn’t had much of an appetite all day (all week if the truth be told) but at the thought of food he suddenly felt hungry. They did have some supplies with them in the van but in their rush to leave the city they had been left buried somewhere in amongst the various bags and boxes.

‘Either of you two want anything to eat?’ he asked.

Emma just grunted but Michael sat up immediately.

‘I do,’ he said, rubbing his eyes.

‘I saw a sign for a cafe up ahead,’ he mumbled. ‘We’ll stop there, shall we?’

There were empty grassy fields on either side of the uninterrupted road. There were no cars, buildings or wandering bodies anywhere to be seen. On balance Carl thought it was worth taking a chance out in the open. He needed a break. They all needed to stop for a while to try and get their heads together and decide what they were actually trying to achieve.

Suddenly interested in the day again, Michael stretched and looked around. He too noticed the lack of any obvious signs of human life. He could see a flock of sheep grazing up ahead. Up until that moment he hadn’t stopped to think about the significance of seeing animals. In the city they’d seen the odd dog, and there had always been birds flying overhead, but the relevance of their survival had been lost on him because there had always been a million other confused thoughts running through his mind. Seeing the sheep in their ignorant isolation today forced him to think about it further. It must only have been humans that had been affected by the inexplicable tragedy. Whatever it was that had happened had left other species untouched. Their sudden arrival at the cafe interrupted his train of thought.

The tall white building appeared from out of nowhere. A large converted house that looked completely out of place in its lush green surroundings, it had been hidden from view by a row of bushy pine trees. Carl slowed the van down and turned left into a wide gravel car park, stopping close to an inconspicuous side door. He turned off the engine and closed his tired eyes. After hours of driving the effect of the sudden silence was stunning. It was like sitting in a vacuum.

Despite having been almost asleep only minutes earlier, Michael was by now wide awake and alert. Before Carl had even taken the keys out of the ignition he was out of the van and jogging over to the cafe door.

‘Careful,’ warned Emma instinctively.

Michael looked back over his shoulder and flashed her a brief but reassuring smile. The air was cold and fresh and he suddenly felt more relaxed and sure than he had done at any other time since they’d left the community centre.

He reached out and tried the door. It wasn’t locked (it opened slightly inward) but it wouldn’t open fully. He pushed against it with his shoulder.

‘What’s up?’ asked Carl.

‘Something’s blocking it,’ Michael replied, still pushing and shoving at the door. ‘There’s something in the way.’

‘Be careful,’ Emma said again. It was clear from the trepidation in her voice that she was nowhere near as comfortable with the situation as her two companions seemed to be.

Michael shoved at the door again, and this time it opened inward another couple of inches. He took a few steps back out into the car park and then ran at the door once more, this time charging it with his shoulder. This time the door opened just wide enough for him to be able to force and squeeze his bulky frame through into the shadowy building. He looked back at the others momentarily before disappearing inside.

‘I really don’t like this,’ Emma muttered to herself, looking around anxiously. The cold wind blew her hair across her face and made her eyes water. She held her hand to her eyes to shield them from the sun and stared intently at the cafe door, waiting for Michael to reappear.