Survive

Chapter Two

The chorus of horns began - as if people thought making more noise would somehow clear the road. It had gone from a slow crawl to complete gridlock and hadn't moved for about 20 minutes, not that I was counting or anything. Some people had resorted to going on foot, abandoning their cars and dragging suitcases along the gaps between vehicles, I'd no idea how long of a walk it was but if people are desperate I supposed they'd do anything to carry on going, even if they didn't know where they were headed.

"So, what do you think?" I turned to my brother, "Is it just England with the virus? Would France be the same if we crossed the channel or have they not got it yet?"

"I've no idea," Mac sighed," Maybe they do, maybe everyone flooding over would bring it to them. I know it's spread through bite but I've no idea how it started, who's to say some people aren't already infected and don't know it yet? Maybe they find out it's airborne, maybe I've got it from being close to Eric. I've no idea but we can hope can't we?"

Nothing like optimism I guessed, but Mac had a point, there must have been thousands of people on this motorway alone, hundreds of thousands trying to drive away, I was sure some people had different ideas, for as many people there were heading across the channel there'd be the same amounts heading up to Scotland, or Wales or heading to airports and train stations before they closed the boarders - if they hadn't already. Maybe that was why we were sat the few for so long, maybe France knew we were dangerous and kept us out, or England was keeping us in. Either way, I didn't think we were going to get off of this motorway by driving.

We sat and stewed in the silence for a while, both of us far too tired and tense to strike up a conversation, not that either of us thought it would make the situation any better. That was when we could hear the screaming. It was coming from behind us, I couldn't make out much in the mirrors but I could hear car doors open and slam closed as a woman screamed. Mac tried to see more from his side mirror but to no avail, he undid his seat belt and spun himself around in his seat to look out of the back window.

"Wait here," he got out of the car and slowly walked toward the commotion. He hadn't changed out of his uniform since coming home and he had this air of confidence about him. I always found it strange to see Mac work, it was sort of surreal to see the boy I played with growing up becoming a man who was far more capable than I. I undid my own belt and turned to watch out the back window, the woman was clutching her arm and leaning against the car next to her own, which seemed to be abandoned. A small child was clinging to her legs, a boy who couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old, he stared wide-eyed into his mother's car at his father who was in the passenger seat. Well, "in" the seat wasn't quite right. He was still strapped in but was leaning as far as he could across the driver's side, hands outstretched toward his wife and child making grabbing motions. I couldn't make out what was being said but the woman seemed to be shaking her head at Mac and swallowing back her cries. She moved the hand that was covering her arm and I could see the claret from this distance. Mac turned and swiftly marched toward our car, he opened one of the back doors and grabbed at his bulging rucksack.
"Time to go, Euna" he came around to my side and opened both doors, handing me my bag as I stood. "We should get off of the road, go to the side, walk on the grass." I followed orders and started heading through the two lanes of still traffic, weaving through people and cars with Mac behind me.

The grass was crisp and wet, and the cold wind of the morning bit at my skin. It was mid-March and still far too cold outside to be comfortable at this time in the morning.

"So where to? We're halfway through Kent along with a quarter of the population, any plans?" I knew that Mac was becoming tired of my questions but I had nothing else to offer. If the options were blind panic or curiosity I'd choose the latter, he knew that. I always asked a million questions when I was anxious or scared, if I kept my brain working and distracted myself, stayed objective then I wouldn't panic. I had no idea if it was the healthy way of coping or if it was better to get the anxiety out, but it worked when our dad left, it worked when our mum died, and it sure as hell worked while we walked along the cold, wet, grass.

"Find somewhere to sleep for now, find a hotel or something, a door we can lock for when it all hits the fan, we can move again when it's light and we're rested." He seemed so sure of himself, spoke as if the answers were obvious to him and I should have already known. We walked for a while until we saw a turn-off toward services, I expected it to be overflowing with people from the motorway but it was a ghost town. Mac slowed and walked with his hand on the extendable baton on his belt, "This doesn't fill me with confidence, stay behind me."

The automatic doors opened to greet us, there were no customers, and no staff to be seen. We took some sandwiches from the fridges and bottles of water, filled up a study carrier bag with as much as it would hold and carried on inside. Mac cleared every corner as we walked in silence and never let down his guard, his head turned at every small sound; motors of the fridges, wind blowing one of the staff doors to the outside, a coffee machine beeping in error as it overflowed a cardboard cup. When we were sure it was clear we took armfuls of travel pillows from a basket and made a small pile in the corner near the bathrooms and an emergency exit, positioned so that we could see anything coming down the corridor towards us. It wasn't comfortable, but it was enough for us to take turns resting. Mac slept first because he'd been awake all night working and driving, I tucked into a sandwich started on a bottle of water and fidgeted with the baton. I must've dozed off at one point, and the next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the slow shuffling man heading straight towards us.