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“What did you eat?” Shilo asked from behind me.
Jason appeared to have passed out so I moved away to where he'd been sitting when he had his food. A sandwich packet was discarded on the floor beside his chair and I stooped to pick it up.
“It was just chicken mayo,” I said as I handed it to Shilo.
“There were only two chicken sandwiches,” Shilo said as he turned the packet over in his hands. “I gave the first to him-“ He pointed at Eric’s body. “The other was taken by that stuck up-“
“Demi didn't like it,” Spencer interrupted as he reentered the room. “She gave the second half to Jason.”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“She's been throwing up but she seems alright now. Had it gone off?”
“I don't think so. They weren't even the same sandwiches; Eric’s was chicken and bacon. They came from different places and they're both within date,” Shilo said with a frown as he inspected the packets.
“So what? You think something else made them sick?” Spencer asked.
“I dunno, maybe…” Shilo frowned at the empty packets for a few seconds then glanced at Eric. “I don't think I'll be eating chicken any time soon though.”
“So what now?” Rose asked. It must have been getting late. I had no idea if the crazed animals were still outside but there had been no sounds of sirens either. It felt like we'd been abandoned to whatever fate awaited us beyond the cafe doors.
“I guess we just keep waiting,” Spencer said. “What's our other option? Trying to walk home whilst avoiding… hell there's so much shit going on out there we'd have to just avoid everything.”
“You still think someone's coming to help us?” I asked a little desperately.
“Of course they are. There must be so much happening that they just haven't made it here yet,” Ryan said firmly.
“We keep waiting then,” Rose agreed as she headed back towards the others. “Maybe we should move Eric?”
Tara was sobbing hysterically, clinging to Chloe like her life depended on it.
“Me and Spencer will do it,” Ryan offered.
Spencer nodded stiffly and the two of them lifted Eric’s body and started to move him out of the staff room and towards the cafe. I couldn't quite get my head around the fact that that morning it had just been like any other day and yet now two of my friends were dead. I wondered why I wasn't crying. I should have been crying. Shouldn't I?
I realised that they were struggling with the door and hurried to help them. I turned away quickly as Ryan backed through the door and Eric’s lifeless gaze landed on me.
The staffroom door swung shut and I hovered by it as they carried him away from me and further into the cafe.
The boys carried Eric to the far corner and I hurried behind the counter to try and find something to cover him with. I opened cupboards and pushed the contents aside but the only thing I could find that would work were some black sacks.
I approached Eric and laid the sacks over him, muttering a quick apology as I pulled the last one over his face. It wasn't the most dignified resting place, sprawled across the much-used couch and covered with trash bags. I just hoped his family would understand that we'd done our best with what we had.
Curiosity tugged at me and I slowly approached the glass shop front.
Night had well and truly fallen and the faint gleam from the shop signage cast a reflection onto my side of the glass. As I approached, all I could see was a shadowy reflection of myself and icy fingers of fear started to creep along my skin. I felt exposed. Like someone was watching me from the darkness outside.
As I reached the window, I cupped my hands above my eyes and leant against the glass to squint out.
The street was the same as it had looked when we arrived; cars rammed end to end and abandoned. Bryony’s body was gone but a smear of dark red blood disappeared between the cars where she had been. Nothing moved amongst the vehicles but litter tumbled across the sidewalk, caught in a strong breeze.
As I peered to the left, trying to gain a view further along the street, a faint orange glow caught my eye. The light flickered brighter and darker, dancing and pulsing with an unpredictable rhythm.
“Ryan?” I called softly, hoping he was still in the cafe with me.
“What is it?” he asked as he moved to my side.
I pointed to our left, reluctant to voice my fears until he confirmed them.
