He went to the small closet and took out the solitary ancient dress-bag that smelt faintly of mothballs. It was the one she wore to funerals, the one she wore when she had visitors and the same one she'd worn at their own personal Christmas, eating the cake he'd brought and sharing out the chocolates her grandson had left.
“Now, you'll have to help me, George,” she said, “but you'll keep your eyes closed.”
“Of course Mary” he said, smiling. He helped her get dressed and then helped her out of the bed and into the wheelchair.
“Alright now, George” she said, firmly.
“Alright, Mary” he replied. They looked at one another for a moment. There was so much that they wanted to say, but now there was no time for it.
”Goodbye George” she said softly.
“Goodbye, Mary.” He hesitated a moment. More than anything else he wanted to kiss her, but knew that he might infect her if he did. He turned and walked to the door.
“You know, George, I will see you again” she said.
“I hope not, Mary. Goodbye. Good Luck” and he walked through the door, and back into the corridor.
He picked up the Assegai from where he'd left it leaning against the wall and headed towards the exit. He wasn't certain that the last two remaining residents had fled, but there wasn't time to check properly. He had no more time. He had no idea where he should go, just that he should go far enough away that after it happened he wouldn't go back to the home.
He found his feet taking him up the road towards the cliffs. There was a bench there, overlooking the spit where the U-boat had become stuck during the war. It was a good place, where he'd passed the days when he wasn't working in the electrical shop. He'd take food, a flask and a book and he'd sat for hours, regardless of the weather, doing nothing but looking, reading and thinking, but mostly remembering.
There were a couple of fields between him and the bench, owned by a farmer who didn't want anyone using them as a short cut. Especially not George, as had been vocally pointed out to him during a particularly unpleasant conference with McGuffrey last August bank holiday. He'd have to walk down towards the village, then, and take the gate to the footpath half-way up the hill, and...
He laughed. What did any of that matter now? He twisted his Assegai between the strands of barbed wire and tugged it free. Then, humming as he went, he pushed his way through the hedge and walked across the dark damp earth, ready for a crop that would never now be planted.
By the time he had reached the bench it was two hours since he'd been bitten. His time was running out. He sat down, carefully placed the Assegai by his side and looked out to sea. It was calm. Inland he could already seem plumes of smoke from where fires had taken hold. He thought he heard a scream in the distance, but he couldn't be sure. All he could see was the tranquil blue of the ocean. He concentrated on the sound of waves crashing against rocks. George smiled and closed his eyes.
http://theevacuation.blogspot.co.uk/
Zombies vs The Living Dead (An Evacuation Story #1) Page 5
