Kieran stopped before the first impact, ast unable to comprehend what now lay ahead of him. It was, by turn, terrifying and pitiful. Terrifying because even though they remained motionless and unable to attack, the dead were still here in almost incalculable numbers. And pitiful because these damn things, which had caused him and everyone else so much pain, appeared to have been rendered utterly harmless by a sudden change in the weather. It was almost as if they’d been cut off midsentence, and he found it strangely reassuring, although he also felt uneasy knowing that a thaw would inevitably give some of them back their freedom. He almost laughed out loud at one of them. It had an arm raised and its head held high as if it was an athlete sprinting for the finishing line, caught in a freeze-frame photo with all the other corpses to decide the winner. When he thought he saw it tremble slightly—whether the result of vibrations from the digger, a slight increase in temperature, gravity, intent, or something else entirely—he shoved his foot down on the accelerator pedal and drove straight into it.
Jackson got onto the bus and stood next to Driver, both of them watching as Kieran powered along the road outside the castle, quickly carving a remarkably clean groove through the motionless ranks. He couldn’t hear it, but he could imagine the noise of bits of the bodies crunching and snapping, the ice creaking, and he stared as random limbs were broken off like the dried-out branches of dead trees. He glanced across at Driver who remained looking forward, his face expressionless. He’s either focused or completely fucking terrified, Jackson thought. I can’t tell which.
When the curve of the road meant that Kieran disappeared from view, Jackson decided it was time to move. He nudged Driver sharply and he pulled away, following the almost perfect channel through the dead which the digger had left. There were steep banks of drifting decay on either side, and even as Jackson watched, he was sure he could see movement. It was subtle and slight, but it was definitely there. Some of the bodies buried deepest had been protected from the worst of the frost, and what was left of them was already starting to slowly inch back toward the area which had been cleared. He knew that if they waited long enough, the track would completely disappear. They had to get out and get back again before the corpses thawed out. The sun was beginning to climb. They didn’t have long.
11
Driver’s nervousness reached almost unbearable levels as they approached the hotel. His initial trepidation at being out in the open again had quickly faded and had been replaced with an even more uncomfortable feeling of apprehension. What were they going to find at the hotel? Either way he looked at it, it was going to be tough. Contrary to what Hollis, Lorna, and the others he’d left behind might have thought of him, he felt genuine affection for the people he’d been forced to abandon. He hoped they’d find them all safe. If they were dead, he knew he’d be riddled with guilt. And yet, conversely, the prospect of finding them alive made him feel equally nervous. How much would they all hate him for what he’d done? Even though he’d eventually returned for them—albeit a little over a fortnight later—would any of them ever be able to trust him again?
No time to think about that now. They were here. He could see the hotel up ahead.
“So does ne have a plan for getting them out?” Zoe asked. She was standing just behind Jackson, holding onto a handrail as the bus clattered along.
“Sort of,” Jackson replied, giving little away. “Difficult to plan much when you don’t know what you’re going to find.”
“Great.”
She knew Jackson was right. It was just her nerves talking. Making detailed preparations had been impossible from a distance. Driver had given them an overview of the basic geography of the area as best he could, explaining about the road between the hotel and the golf course, the fences and gates, the blocked road junction and the crashed vehicles (those he knew about, anyway).
They’d looped around and were now coming from the direction of Bromwell itself. Driver had deliberately chosen a route which would approach the hotel from this direction, because by coming this way, he’d explained to Jackson, they’d be able to get access to the hotel through the field below the golf course. That was where he thought Jas and the others had blown up their cars, and it seemed the most direct way to gain access to the building without having to waste time moving trucks or scrambling over the wreck of his poor old bus.
Driver stopped at the entrance to the field. The steep slope ahead was covered in remains, some standing upright, some decayed down to an almost unrecognizable mulch. Much like the hordes of bodies camped around the castle incessantly, the crowds here had been vast in number, and as a consequence it appeared that many of the dead had literally been trampled into the dirt. Much to the survivors’ collective relief, the area remained almost entirely motionless. The bodies here were still frozen.
“I’ll never get this bus up there,” Driver said, looking at the gore-covered hill which climbed away in front of them. “Best not risk it.”
“Let us out,” Jackson said, barely acknowledging him. Driver did as instructed, and the four others disembarked.
Zoe, keen to get this done and get back, marched ahead. Her steel-capped boots crunched through the ice, then slid through the fleshy muck below as she stepped out onto the field, vile-smelling liquids splashing up her overtrousers. Bob followed close behind, carrying a screwdriver with a long shaft as a weapon. They walked along the bottom edge of the field to begin with, then began to climb when they reached the hedgerow nearest to the hotel building. A body which lay on its back beneath the hedge, shielded from the worst of the frost and still able to function to a limited extent, reached out for Bob and grabbed hold of his foot. Bob kicked it over, trod down on its neck, and plunged the screwdriver deep into one of its temples. He shook the screwdriver clean and looked over at Zoe. She was standing a short distance away, looking up into the sky.
“Problem?” he asked.
“Possibly,” she replied. Since leaving the castle the skies overhead had cleared and were now relentlessly blue. Although it was still cold, the sun was fierce and where the light hit them, the bodies were beginning to defrost. Steam snaked away from them, carried on the gentlest of breezes, and now they could hear the drip, drip, drip which heralded the bf the thaw.
Steve and Jackson caught up. They were carrying two long ladders between them.
“We need to get on with this and get it done fast,” Steve warned. “I don’t fancy being stuck out here when those fuckers start moving around again.”
Jackson agreed, although he didn’t bother saying anything. Instead he continued to climb up the hill, dragging Steve behind on the other end of the ladders. Each step forward became increasingly difficult, the slope of the ground combining with the slush underfoot made it hard to get a grip. And the farther they climbed, the more statuelike corpses they had to negotiate. Jackson watched them intently as he weaved around their frozen shapes. Maybe it was the way its face caught the light, but he was sure the one he was approaching now had just moved its eyes. Was it looking at him? Out of spite and for no other reason, he kicked out at it and it fell back into the icy mire like a felled tree.