'What I'm saying,' Jones replied, 'is that the fire escape gives us a way of moving around the building that's well away from the main staircase where we think the bodies are...'
'And there's a good chance the bodies are still only on the staircase,' Wilcox continued, taking over from the other man. 'Which means that if we're careful we could still go onto the floors and into the rooms.'
'What's the layout of a typical floor?' Jones asked.
Bushell thought for a second before answering.
'Just one U-shaped corridor,' he shrugged. 'Staircase in the middle, fire escape at either end I think.'
'And when you first set yourself up here, did you clear the place out?'
Chapter Eighteen
'I checked all the rooms for bodies and I took what I needed but...'
'Did you take everything?'
'No. Didn't need to.'
'So there's your answer,' Jones said smugly, rocking back on his chair and almost looking down his nose at the others. 'We go back down as far as we need to and grab what we can.'
'Think that's going to work?'
'Might do, might not. Should prevent us from starving to death for a few days longer,' he sneered cynically. 'Delay the inevitable for a while.'
'That's all you're going to do,' Bushell reminded him, 'just delay what you know is going to happen anyway.' 'He's right, isn't he?' asked Doreen. 'It's not going to change the fact that those bloody things will be up here with us in the next couple of days, is it? It's not going to help us get away.'
'No,' he agreed, 'it won't. But it might give us a little time and space.'
Eight thirty-five. Pitch black. Jones, Wilcox and Elizabeth crept cautiously down the fire escape staircase towards the lower floors of the hotel. Hunger, claustrophobia and fear had combined to deadly effect to kick the instinctively cowardly survivors into action. Their hastily considered and half-improvised plan seemed increasingly risky with every step of descent. Jones had suggested they head all the way down and work their way back up. They had only made their way down as far as the seventeenth floor when he stopped and turned round to face the others.
'What's the matter?' Elizabeth asked, immediately concerned.
'I want to have a look,' he replied.
'What for?'
'What do you think?'
'But you said...'
'I said nothing. We know they're on the stairs. We don't know where else they are, do we?'
She shook her head. Jones moved towards the door and gently pushed it open a fraction. He shone his torch out onto the landing.
'Anything?'
'Can't see any movement,' he replied, his voice little more than a whisper. 'I'm going to have a look around.'
Without waiting for a response from either of the other two Jones slipped out through the door and onto the landing. He switched off his torch, concerned that the light might attract unwanted attention, and then cautiously moved further down the dark hallway to the first corner. The layout, as far as he could see in the gloom, was pretty much as Bushell had described. A long, wide corridor with a right-angled right turn which ran towards the central part of the building where, he presumed, the staircase and several thousand rotting bodies would be. He moved closer to the corner and peered around, holding his breath for fear of making any sound which might tip the balance and alert the dead to his presence. He couldn't see anything. It was too dark.
Jones felt his way along the wall and paused at the door to one of the hotel's many bedrooms. Did he go inside? It would be worth having a quick look around the room before he returned to the other two waiting on the fire escape staircase. He wanted to see the layout of a typical room so that he could get a feel for what they were dealing with. How quickly would they be able to thoroughly check a room for food? What were they likely to find? Would there be a mini-bar or similar? Christ, he needed a drink. Imagine if each room had its own supply of booze. Surely some of the more expensive rooms on the higher floors would have...
Jones reached down and tried the handle. Damn thing was locked. No surprise really. Bushell had a set of master keys which he'd taken from reception. Elizabeth had them with her. He shoved the door again, hoping it would open. It didn't matter. He'd go back to the... Wait. What was that? He sensed movement nearby. Jones