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wind and rain thinking about everything I'd left behind in the city and whether I should go back to it. I knew that I had to do something. I couldn't get this close and then just turn around and go back, could I? From the second I'd left my house on the first morning, all I'd thought about was Gemma and Sarah. That was the reason I couldn't see the point of whatever it was that Emma and Michael were trying to achieve. For me there was no point in going on if I didn't have Gemma and Sarah with me.

For a while I even thought about suicide, but I'm such a fucking coward that I couldn't decide how to do it. I didn't have any pills or drink or drugs with me and I couldn't get any without crowds of those fucking things surrounding me. And the prospect of a thousand rotting corpses fighting over me was not worth thinking about. Once or twice I actually stood at the edge of the roof and got ready to jump, but it was nowhere near high enough. I'd probably just break an arm or a leg and end up lying there in agony and waiting for them to get me. Christ, the bloody irony of it all. Millions and millions of people lying dead around me and all I wanted to do was join them but I couldn't. If I'd brought the rifle with me from the farmhouse I reckoned I could have done it that way. Quick and easy. Bloody hell, it had been weeks since anything had been quick and easy.

And in the long lonely minutes that followed even more irony tormented me. I kept thinking about Sarah and Gemma and each time I pictured their precious faces I just wanted to stop and give up. But I knew that Sarah wouldn't have wanted that. If she'd been able to see me up on that roof she would have crucified me. If she'd known that I'd been thinking about giving up and ending it all then she'd probably have done it for me. And if I was honest with myself I'd have felt the same if our positions had been reversed. If she'd survived and I'd been the one that had died, I would have wanted her to be safe and to try and make something from what remained of her life.

So I decided to go home.

I climbed back down into the hall and walked through and started the bike. Without even bothering to think about what might be outside, I just started the engine, pushed the door open and rode out into the cold morning.

I had reached Hadley in a few minutes. As I got to the top of Gresham Hill I cut the engine and let the bike freewheel down towards our estate. I felt scared and I was so fucking nervous that it was hard to think straight. I didn't even stop to think about the bodies. I was too busy looking at everything and thinking how much it had all changed. There probably hadn't been another living soul there since I'd left on the day it had all begun, but everything looked completely different. I went past the pub where we'd been on the last normal Sunday night. The car park was overgrown with weeds and there were rats looking for food around the bins. The doors were hanging open and it was black and cold inside. The last time I'd been there it had been full of sounds and light and people.

Because I wasn't making any noise the bodies didn't seem to take any notice of me. If I moved slowly and took my time they didn't even look up when I passed. I got off the bike and pushed it round into our road. Then I saw our house and I stopped. Part of me wanted to turn round and run but I knew that I had to carry on. But what if I got in and Sarah and Gemma weren't there? Worse still, what if they were there and they'd become like the things which were still dragging themselves around the streets? Whatever I might have found, the thought of leaving and not knowing seemed much worse. I knew that I had to carry on.

I pushed the bike onto the drive and walked up to the front door. There was post in the porch, and like a fucking idiot I picked it

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