Neither Emma or Carl could hear what he was saying. Confused, they watched as the scrawny man continued to move closer. He lifted his rotting head, seeming almost to be looking at Michael who was still facing the other way. The man’s next movement was so unexpected that no-one, especially not Michael, had time to react.

The sound of a single sliding footstep squelching through the thick mud alerted him. He span around and found himself face to face with the foul creature. Before he could do anything it launched itself at him, grabbing hold of him with its emaciated arms. More from the surprise of the attack than its force Michael was sent slipping and sprawling to the ground. Suddenly forced into action, Carl sprinted to his friend’s defence and grabbed the shoulders of the corpse that had now gripped hold of Michael tight with its skeletal fingers. Although weak and with little strength, the body held on with a savage and unexpected determination which proved difficult to break. Carl managed to pull its weakened frame up a little way, just far enough for Michael to be able to slide his hands under its bony abdomen and push it up and away. With one brutal and controlled show of force he thrust the body up into the air and rolled away to safety through the greasy mud.

‘Okay?’ Emma screamed, rushing to the Michael’s side.

He wiped splashes of foul-smelling mud from his face and nodded, still fighting to catch his breath. Already tired from the run, the brutal speed and shock of the unexpected attack had winded him.

‘I’m all right,’ he gasped.

The body on the ground lay on its back, squirming and struggling to right itself again. It had just managed to haul itself up onto its elbows when Carl kicked it back down.

‘Fucking thing,’ he hissed. ‘You stupid fucking thing.’

The body continued to twist and writhe. Oblivious to Carl’s hate and comparative strength it again lifted itself up. Carl again kicked it back down.

‘Fucking thing,’ he spat for a third time before kicking the corpse in the side of the head. His boot collided with its left temple with a sickening thump and it stopped moving. A couple of seconds later it started again.

‘Leave it,’ Michael said. He had managed to stand and was being pulled back towards the house by Emma. ‘Come on, Carl, just leave it.’

Carl wasn’t listening. He began to lash out violently at the figure on the ground. He kicked it in the area of the left kidney, sending it rolling over and over away from him.

‘Carl!’ Emma pleaded. ‘Carl, come on!’

She could clearly see hate and frustration in his face. He looked up at her for a fraction of a second before returning his attention to the rotting corpse in the mud. He spat into its vacant face before letting go with another brutal torrent of kicks. Oblivious to the battering it was taking, every time it was beaten down the creature continually tried to climb back up again. Dumbfounded, Carl took a breathless step backwards.

‘Just look at this!’ he shouted, pointing at the pathetic creature squirming in the mud. ‘Will you just look at this fucking thing! It doesn’t know when it’s had enough.’

Emma could hear desperate, raw emotion clear in his voice. He sounded close to tears but she couldn’t tell whether they were tears of pain, anger, fear or grief.

‘Come on!’ Michael yelled again. ‘Don’t waste your time. Let’s get back to…’

He stopped speaking when he noticed that there was another figure in the field with them. Emma grabbed hold of his arm.

‘Look,’ she whispered, her voice barely audible.

‘I see it. What the fuck is going on?’

The second figure was walking towards the survivors with the same slow, slothful intent as the first had just minutes earlier.

‘There’s another one coming, Carl,’ Michael said, trying hard to control the rising panic in his voice.

‘And another,’ Emma gasped. A third creature was dragging itself up the field towards them.

Michael took her hand and half-helped and half-pushed her back over the gate.

‘Get going,’ he said quietly. ‘Put your fucking foot down and get back to the house.’

‘Okay,’ she mumbled, her eyes filling with frightened tears. She clambered over the gate and took a couple of hesitant steps forward before pausing to look back. One last glance at the approaching bodies was enough. She turned and began running back towards the farmhouse for all she was worth.

‘Carl!’ Michael shouted. ‘We’re going. Pull yourself together…’

Carl looked up and finally saw the two corpses approaching. In a defiant last outburst of anger and frustration he kicked the still moving corpse in the head one more time. He caught it square in the face and felt bones shatter and break under the force of his boot. Thick crimson-black, almost congealed blood dribbled from a gaping hole where its nose and mouth had been. The creature finally lay still. Silently satisfied, Carl turned and ran after the others.

‘I’m coming,’ he yelled.

He sprinted back through the mud and hauled himself over the gate, almost losing his balance when a forth bedraggled body came at him from out of nowhere. He ran harder than he’d ever forced himself to run before, knowing full well that his life might depend on reaching the safety of the farmhouse.

By the time the three survivors had made it back to the house the first battered body in the field had dragged itself up onto its unsteady feet again. It turned awkwardly and followed eleven other bodies as they converged on the isolated building.

‘What the fucking hell is going on?’ Michael cursed as he pushed open the farmhouse door and ushered Emma inside. Carl followed seconds later and, as the second man entered the building, Michael slammed the door shut behind him and locked it. Emma slid down the wall at the bottom of the stairs and held her head in her hands.

‘Christ knows,’ she sighed, exhausted and out of breath.

Carl barged back past Michael to peer through one of the small glass windows in the front door.

‘Shit,’ he hissed under his breath. ‘There are loads of them out there, bloody loads of them. I can see at least ten from here.’

He seemed strangely fascinated by everything that was happening outside. While Emma and Michael were content to shut the door and lock themselves away from the rest of the nightmare world, Carl was pumped full of adrenaline. Almost ready, it seemed, for a fight.

Michael sat down on the stairs next to Emma and gently rested his hand on her shoulder.

‘They’ve changed,’ she said, her head still held low. ‘I don’t know what’s happened or why but they’ve changed.’

‘I know. I saw it last night,’ he whispered, ‘when you and Carl were asleep.’

Emma looked up.

‘What happened?’

‘I went out to shut off the generator and there were four of them hanging around outside the shed.’

‘You didn’t say anything…’

‘I didn’t think anything of it until now. Anyway, as soon as I switched off the generator they disappeared.’

‘Don’t think they’re coming any closer,’ Carl said, his face still pressed hard against the glass, still ignorant to their conversation. ‘Looks like they’re starting to move away again.’

‘Which way are they going?’ Michael asked.

‘Not sure. Might be heading towards the back of the house.’

‘Back to the generator?’ Emma wondered.

‘Could be, why?’

She shrugged her shoulders and held her head again.

‘Don’t know,’ she mumbled, rubbing her tired and tearstained eyes. ‘Last night, did those bodies leave as soon as the generator was switched off?’

‘I think so,’ Michael replied.

‘Well that’s it then, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ he pressed, suddenly feeling a little foolish and confused because although she seemed to understand some of what was happening, he didn’t have a clue. He respected Emma’s opinion but wished that he could understand for himself what was happening to the once human shells wandering around the desolate countryside. She may only have been a part-qualified doctor (if that) but that part-qualification seemed to make her the last surviving authority on what remained of the human condition.