The British Are Coming!

“Okay everyone, we’ve got about an hour of daylight left, so start making sure everything’s covered. Tony, could you put the coffee on, we could all use something warm I think.”

Sarah didn’t look up at Kev’s words, she was too busy wrapping the four huge vertebrae in plaster of Paris-soaked cloth. The massive bones, dark grey against the lighter-coloured rock from which they were being lifted, were in an exceptional state of preservation, but they had to be safely enshrouded before being lifted, as they would break under their own weight if not.

She worked steadily, wrapping the fossil bones in layers of wet white cloth, until she was satisfied that when the plaster dried, the bones would hold together, then stood, feeling muscles throb as blood finally returned to them after so long spent crouched over. She rubbed her thigh to get the circulation going again, then looked round to see who was free. “Kate, can you give me a hand lifting this, please?”

“Sure, Sarah!” The bubbly blonde almost bounced over, and Sarah had to repress a smile. The American girl had a vivacious, effervescent personality, almost hyperactive, but she was a good girl, made friends easily, and caught the eye of most men she met. The tall brunette knew the men on the site were ‘interested’ in Kate, with her curves and laughing eyes and teasing demeanour. The Englishwoman didn’t care that they were more interested in the American girl than her – she was here to do a job, not find a lifelong soul-mate! The boys were pleasant enough, but they were friends, nothing more. She turned her attention back to the fossil, and she and Kate began removing it and loading it into the back of the truck. The massive vertebrae, far larger than those of a human, lay together so they were being moved together.

This’ll be a nice little feather in mp cap, she thought. A big pliosaur like this one is quite a rare find, and to be one of the team leaders on the excavation should get me some attention, as well as going a long way to show my credentials to the professors when they come to assessing my doctorate thesis. For a brief moment she wondered what news of her being awarded a Doctorate would do to her relationship with her family, especially her parents, but she shook that off. There was nothing that would ever repair that link, not after what had been said in the heat of the moment by both sides. Only her little sister maintained contact, and that over the objections of her parents, who’d threatened to disown the girl if she continued to speak to Sarah. Anger at their treatment of her sister made her temporarily forget the lingering guilt over the schism. She shook her head – this wasn’t the time for thinking about her dysfunctional family!

Sarah looked round at the sound of a vehicle approaching, and recognised the pickup truck of Carla, one of the American paleontology students working on the site. The older woman, a resident of Iowa state and a widowed housewife, had been fascinated by dinosaurs and the like since an early age, and was now taking advantage of her children all having flown the coop by getting involved in any digs she could manage to get to. The woman, slightly shorter than Sarah and a fair bit heavier, opened her door and jumped out, but her legs folded as she did so. The tall brunette ran forward to help her stand. “Carla! Are you okay? You look ill!”

“I’m ... I’m fine, honey. I just – “ The woman doubled over, wracked by a fit of coughing, and Sarah slipped an arm under the woman’s shoulders. “I’m fine, really! It ... it’s just the flu. Must’ve caught it from ma neighbour – heard him coughin’ fit t’ raise the dead when I went out fer the mail. Damn the fool! Shoulda been in bed, snug an’ warm!” She started coughing again, and Sarah held her as she began retching.

“Ken! KEN! Get over here, NOW!” She didn’t often raise her voice, and those who hadn’t worked with her before were startled at just how loud she could be when she wanted to get attention. Ken, the lanky redhead from London, ran over at her call, and helped the brunette assist the older woman to the tent they used as an impromptu first aid station. Laying Carla down on the lone bed, Ken draped a blanket over her and got a drink of hot soup, whilst handing Sarah the thermometer.

The younger woman frowned when she saw the temperature. “Not good. She’s got quite a fever. I’m not sure she should be here; she’d be better off in a warm bed.” She was getting quite concerned – Carla wasn’t someone who tended to get sick, she had the constitution of an ox, yet here she was, shaking like a leaf in a storm.

Ken took the thin silvery tube. “Yeah, looks like it.” The two exchanged a look – the dig really wasn’t the place to care for someone sick. The only facility they had was the tent, which was okay for first aid but not a lot more. The way the stocky older woman was coughing and shivering, she needed to be in a warm, comfortable bed, well wrapped up, if not in a hospital. “This must be a bloody awful strain o’ the flu ter put ‘er down like this, yer know?”

“I know, Carla always said she had a cast-iron constitution,” Sarah replied, speaking softly so as not to disturb the resting woman. “She can’t stay here, she needs to be either home in bed or in a hospital.”

“Yeah, yer right. If it’s jus’ flu, then home’d be the best. Wrap ‘er up warm an’ snug, she’ll be okay.” Then a light seemed to come on in the lanky young man’s eyes. “Hey, listen Lady Penelope,” Sarah rolled her eyes at the nickname he’d given her due to her upper-class background, “we’re packin’ up tomorrer, but yer stayin’ ‘ere over winter, yeah? An’ I know yer got a visa fer America. D’yer think yer could take Carla back ‘ome? She’s got ‘er truck, yer can take ‘er straight there. She can’t drive, not when she’s like this, an’ we c’n pack things up ‘ere wivout yer.”

She raised a brow at him. “Are you trying to get rid of me, Ken? And if I DO take her back, what do I do then? I won’t have any transport from there. I’ll be stuck.” She shook her head. It was easy for him to suggest it, but there were practical difficulties. Yes, she had a visa for the USA, but it was supposed to be from two days time, not immediately. And as she’d said, once she got to Carla’s home in Iowa, she’d have no way of leaving.

“Uh,” the redhead thought furiously for a few seconds, “well, yer got nowhere ter stay, ‘ave yer? Mebbe yer could stay wiv ‘er? Y’know, few a few days, anyway, then get a taxi or summat?”

“Taxi? From Iowa to New York?? Just how much – “

“D’yer have ter go ter New York? I mean, somewhere else could – “

“Ken, don’t be so bloody stupid!” Sarah was starting to get quite annoyed. “Are you seriously suggesting I just casually drive into America even though my visa isn’t valid yet, make myself at home in someone else’s house for a fortnight or so, then just randomly pick somewhere on the map and go there?”

“Errr .... “

She shook her head in disbelief. “Ken, I want to help her, she’s been a great help on the dig, but do you really think this is a reasonable course of action to take? “

“Dunno, but you’re the only one c’n do it, yer know? The Yanks, they’re all goin’ back ter Colorado, ‘s’where their Uni is, an’ us Brits, we ain’t got no visas, ‘part from you. So come on Lady Penny, yer the only one can ‘elp ‘er!”

Sarah sighed. The tall young man found it easy to guilt-trip her on occasion, knowing that she cared about other people and didn’t like seeing suffering – except if the person deserved it, of course .... She glanced down at the shaking woman in the bed, sighed again, and nodded. “Alright. But if I get into trouble over this, you’re bailing me out, understood?”

“Yeah, sure! Thanks, Lady Penelope!”

“Oh, piss off!” She flapped a hand at him as he exited the tent, grinning, and turned back to Carla. “Carla, dear, we need you to get up. Come on Carla, you’re too big for me to carry! That’s right, up you get. No, keep the blanket, no-one else needs it. That’s right, one step at a time, left foot first, don’t worry, I’ve got you, that’s right, no, I’ve got your keys, of course I can drive it! That’s right, let me get the door open, okay can you climb up now? Well done!”

With a lot of encouragement and plenty of effort, she got the older woman into the passenger seat of her own pickup, then climbed into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t the first time she’d driven since they’d started the dig, and she didn’t have to think too much about the American driving position being the wrong side. The keys were still in the ignition, and she started the engine first time. A quick check to find Carla’s home town and program the Satnav accordingly, and she set off, the unconscious Carla sleeping at her side.

Sarah cursed under her breath as she just managed to catch the skid in time. The thick, driving snow and the icy conditions underfoot were making driving a nightmare, and she was glad that Carla had brought tyre chains with her, otherwise controlling the pickup truck in the current conditions would’ve been impossible.

They’d crossed the border into the USA an hour ago, much to the young Englishwoman’s surprise, as there’d been no-one manning the border post. Sarah had been expecting a long discussion about why she was entering the States early, followed by a refusal to allow her in, but there had been nobody at the crossing.

I really wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I know that the US and Canada are friendly, most of the time, but the Americans always seem paranoid about border controls, ever since 9/11 anyway. So why was the place deserted? I just don’t get it. Oh well, as long as no-one stops me, I’ll be alright. Once I‘m past the date I was due to enter, I can simply claim I came in at an unmanned border crossing, and let the authorities sort it out between them.

*************************************

Pulling into Drayton, Sarah was surprised at how little traffic there was on the road. It was a major highway, yet there were few vehicles to be seen. She checked the fuel indicator – there was still plenty in the tank, so she decided to press on. There would be time later to refuel, and maybe find a decent stopover to get some food, and perhaps even a warm bed.

By now the slender brunette was starting to feel a little tired – she’d pulled a full day’s work at the dig, and driving for miles in heavy snowfall, with poor visibility and treacherous conditions on the road, were starting to take their toll. Still, she’d always preferred driving as far in one go as she possibly could, so that there was the minimum distance to travel the next morning – get as much distance out of the way in the first session, so later on, when you were feeling more tired, there was less mileage to cover, that had always been her approach.

Following the road put of Drayton, she frowned, convinced that she’d heard gunfire in the distance, muffled though it had been by the falling snow. Sarah wondered if Carla had a gun, and wracked her memories to see if the older woman had ever mentioned owning a firearm. She drew a blank – if the American woman HAD mentioned such a thing, Sarah hadn’t been paying much attention at the time.

She pulled out onto the unusually quiet highway, and behind her, the gunfire continued, not the sound of a few individual shots, but a full-scale firefight ...

The drive had been hard. Thick, driving snow made the roads treacherous, and the whiteness made Sarah’s eyes ache with the strain of trying to see ahead. She’d kept her speed down to be safe, travelling as fast as she could with the snow chains on. By her reckoning, they should be approaching the city of Grand Forks, which, given that the time was now after midnight, would probably be as good a time as any to stop, find somewhere with restrooms for the two of them to use, possibly refill, and generally stretch their legs. Or at least Sarah would; she glanced over at Carla, now sleeping in her seat. The American had been almost silent during the journey, except for her laboured breathing and occasional bouts of coughing. Sarah was concerned – the woman seemed to have more than just a cold or flu, and the Englishwoman wondered if she should simply take Carla to hospital.

If she doesn’t start sounding any better soon, I will. She’s having real trouble breathing properly, and her temperature is way up. Maybe when we get to Fargo – as I recall, that’s the biggest city in North Dakota, so it should have the biggest medical facility. I hope ...

The windscreen wipers were struggling to clear the snow and ice away as she pulled into a petrol station, and the pickup truck skidded as she braked. Stopping next to a pump, she got out, pulling her heavy coat around her against the cold. Wondering if she should wait for the attendant to come out and fill the tank, or just do it herself, she stood waiting, her breath turning to frost on the bitterly cold air. Stamping her feet, she looked towards the brightly-lit shop, and finally her patience went on strike.

To hell with this! If he can’t be bothered to come out and do his job, I’ll bloody well do it myself!

Pulling the nozzle down, she proceeded to fill the truck’s tank to the brim, and headed towards the shop to pay, her feet sliding on the icy ground. Entering the shop, she blinked at the bright light and looked around for the shop attendant. Nothing. There was no sign of anyone in the building, and Sarah felt a shiver of unease run down her spine. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, the slender Englishwoman felt that there was danger nearby, and scanned the shop for anything out of place. Still nothing.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a handful of folded bills, and counted out a number of notes which would cover the petrol with a little left over – Sarah preferred to ensure that no-one could accuse her of stealing the fuel. Turning to leave, she saw a handful of newspapers on the counter and dropped some change on the desk as she took one of the papers, opening it and scanning the headlines. What she saw almost made her drop the paper.

Plague?! What?! All over the world? But – but how?! How could a disease spread so far round the world without anyone detecting it? Isn’t that what all those supra-governmental agencies were supposed to monitor and prevent?

Stunned, Sarah read on, the details almost too much to take in. The death tool, numbering in the hundreds so far and expected to go much higher – and those in America alone! The rest of the world, similarly hit, chaos across the globe as panic spread. Countries blaming one another, battles on borders, huge numbers of people on the move to escape the pandemic – and the death toll growing by the hour. Suddenly something occurred to the brunette, something that froze her in her tracks..

Carla said her neighbour had flu-like symptoms, similar or identical to her own, that he brought back with him when he flew back to America. According to the reports, it seems that airports were hubs of infection, so maybe ... maybe Carla’s neighbour had this disease, and passed it to her. And if that’s the case, I’ve been exposed too! Damn and blast! What now? I think I’m going to have to drive on to Fargo – the paper says the bigger hospitals are dealing out some kind of ‘inoculation’ – hopefully, if it IS this disease that Carla has, they can treat her, and maybe I can be immunised.

Sarah grabbed a handful of food and drink from the shelves, as well as several cups of hot coffee from the percolator which was miraculously still working, no longer caring about leaving money - she had a sudden sinking feeling that the attendant wouldn’t be coming back ever again. Dashing back to the pickup, she vaulted into the driver’s seat and handed Carla one of the coffees.

“Here, something hot for you. We’re not going to stop – I’m going to press on to Fargo, okay?”

The older woman mumbled something unintelligible, and Sarah started the engine, sparing a worried glance for her companion. The truck eased cautiously away into the driving snow.

Sarah stared at the desolation of the streets. Burnt out vehicles littered the sidewalks, and bodies lay uncollected. Flocks of starving birds gathered at corpses, tearing at dead flesh, and feral cats and dogs scattered at the approach of the pickup truck. The place looked like a warzone, and gunfire in the distance reinforced that impression. Along the roadside, buildings had been barricaded shut, windows curtained off and gates locked. Other homes had been thoroughly looted, the glass smashed and doors kicked in. Yet other homes were ominously silent, neither looted nor locked up, just ... silent, their occupants dead.

How quickly it happens; disaster strikes and the civilised mask slips; we revert to savagery, turning on each other, hurting, killing and stealing. Those with a propensity for violence destroy everyone else, and in the end, they themselves cannot create what they need to survive, destroying themselves. Simple human decency becomes a luxury, or perceived to be so; openness is replaced by paranoid fear of the ‘outsider’ and frightened groups make a grab for dwindling resources.

Someone planned this. To strike in so many countries simultaneously – that’s not a natural plague, that’s one that’s been spread deliberately. Someone has consciously sought the destruction of most of the human population of the world. All over the world, people must be dying. For what? Ideology? Economic benefit? Religious beliefs?

All I can do is find the hospital, hope they can help Carla – though the news on the radio wasn’t good – and think about what to do afterwards. I can’t go home – flights are suspended ‘indefinitely’. I suppose driving on to Iowa with Carla, if she lives,. And staying there is a reasonable option – it’s not like I have many other places I could go to.

Swerving to avoid a body lying almost hidden in the snow, the Englishwoman turned a corner towards where her map indicated the central hospital could be found. She didn’t know whether the place might’ve been burnt down or destroyed by gangs, and was pleasantly surprised to see the place still standing, though the armed guards at the gates were something that wouldn’t have been seen before. Still, they were alive, the first people she’d seen in some time. She slowed as she approached the gate, the men levelling their weapons at her.

“What do ya want?” one of them growled at her, and she gestured to Carla, curled up asleep in the passenger seat.

“She’s sick. I was hoping you had someone here who could help.”

The man’s face registered surprise. “You English?”

“Yes, I am.”

He thought for a few moments, then turned to his companion, who nodded. “Okay, go through. Take her in, and get inoculated while you’re at it.”

Sarah nodded her agreement, and drove past the gate, which was pulled shut and locked behind her. The main entrance was deserted when she approached, but then a man in a white coat pushed the revolving door and came out to meet her. “Are you ill?” he asked even before she’d stopped the truck.

“No, my companion is. Can you help her?” Sarah was unsurprised by the abrupt greeting – she figured they’d had a tough time over the last few days, and had seen evidence of attacks on the gate – damage to the gatehouse, burnt-out vehicles, and concrete barricades blocking a direct approach to the gate, preventing a ramming attack from breaking through.

The man sighed. “Bring her in.” Carla was bundled through the door and swiftly put on a trolley that had obviously seen a lot of usage recently. Then the older woman was wheeled away. “Go down there; they’ve still got a few inoculations left. Get one; it might save your life.”

Sarah nodded, and followed his directions. This place has so few staff. I guess the plague must’ve affected many of them as well. The morgue is probably full to overflowing. God, how desolate it all is. This was a hospital; now it’s a place people come to die. Is that what’s in store for Carla – a death here, away from her family and loved ones? And what about me? I travelled with her – I must’ve been exposed to the plague, if that’s what she has. Is it currently incubating in me, or am I somehow immune?

She pushed open the door in front of her, and came face-to-face with a nurse, who looked at her with an odd expression. “Excuse me, I was directed here for an inoculation, if you have any left.”

The woman’s face cleared. “Yes, a few. Please, sit down over there and roll up a sleeve. I’’l just be a few moments.”

Sarah did as she was told and waited whilst the nurse took a small phial from a fridge, which Sarah presumed was still being kept cold due to the hospital having a backup generator. Readying the syringe, she tied a tourniquet around Sarah’s upper arm, waited till the vein stood out, wiped the target site with alcohol, and injected the inoculation.

“There you go. Just press this on the puncture point for ten minutes, and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Holding the cotton wool bud to the injection site, Sarah left the hospital, with a mental note to check back in a day or so, and left the site, hoping to find somewhere to stay for a few days – assuming anywhere was left that would take guests.

Sarah pulled the truck to a halt and got out. She knew in her heart that the mission she was on was futile, but she had to do it, just to be sure. She’d left Carla here four days ago, when she’d thought that the hospital was actually treating people. She herself had received a so-called ‘inoculation’ – and immediately afterwards, she fallen sick. She’d spent the next twenty-four hours tossing and turning, lapsing in and out of consciousness as the fever in her had come and gone. Finally recovering, she’d seen outside that civilisation had, for all intents and purposes, collapsed; houses were burnt out, bodies lay scattered in the streets as feral dogs and huge rats scavenged them.

The young Englishwoman had thought about making a break for the countryside there and then, but reconsidered. The city, whilst now a dangerous place to be, still held plenty of resources if one knew where to look, resources that might prove vital for survival in the months ahead. So Sarah had obtained a phone directory and street map of the city, and set about systematically plundering everything she thought she might need in the future.

Weapons had been among the first things to obtain. She’d seen on the way in a ship advertising ‘Benelli’, which she knew was a manufacturer of firearms, and she’d gone back there. Not surprisingly, others had tried to break in and take the guns – there was a car impaled on the front of the shop, and she’d clambered through into the already-looted building. All the gun cases were smashed, their contents long gone. But the door at the back of the shop had led to a steel-doored secure room. From the indentations on the door, and the blood on the floor, someone had tried to shoot the lock off and been hit by the ricochets. Sarah had taken the indirect approach – she’d gone upstairs, found the floor directly over the secure room, and broken through the floorboards. She’d kept a shotgun for herself, and bundled other guns and ammunition under a tarpaulin out the back of the shop, ready for later retrieval.

That had been her strategy for the last two days; don’t try to take it all on foot, bundle it all up and leave it for later pickup. She’d moved swiftly and silently from cover to cover, treating the city like a hunting ground where danger might lurk behind every corner – which indeed it might. She’d wherever possible kept off freshly fallen snow, so as to leave no tracks that would indicate a lone person was still around; she’d moved from concealment to concealment, not spoken or sung or made any other noise. She’d seen small gangs moving about the city, and avoided them.

The vehicle had been a lucky break. Most of the dealerships in Fargo had been looted or destroyed, but she’d found a Mercedes dealer which, though most of the cars had been taken, still had a few trucks left. Once it was fuelled, she’d been able to move it to the back of the hotel she was using as her base, even finding a trailer to take - a useful addition to the vehicle’s carrying capacity. After two days she was ready, and she’d finally set off in the truck, systematically moving from cache to cache, loading it onto the truck. The pile of supplies Sarah had now filled the back of the truck – containers of clean water, boxes of tinned food or vacuum-packed food in buckets of snow, metal fuel cans filled with diesel or petrol, bundles of clothing wrapped up in tarpaulins, ropes, wood and metal-working tools. Hoes, spades, rakes and forks, digging bars, fencing strainers, sledgehammers, pickaxes – everything she could think of for building a new community. In the cab were boxes of books about camping, hunting, survival, as well as basic science and subjects such as archery and the weather. The weapons were on the floor of the front passenger seat, with the ammunition. Only the trailer was still empty, and Sarah had ideas on what to use that for.

Now she’d returned to the hospital to look for Carla, to confirm for herself that the older woman had died from the plague that had brought down humanity. Her boots echoed on the hard floor as she walked down the corridors, looking in room after room, the shotgun cradled under her arm. Even here, the rats were everywhere, taking advantage of the sudden glut of available food. Bodies lay half-gnawed where the plague had finally killed them, and Sarah had to restrain herself from shooting at the hordes of fat rodents. But she knew there was no point – the dead were dead, and she couldn’t bury them all.

So now we know – this is what happens when Humanity vanishes. Nature takes over – already the rats are moving in, the birds are nesting in empty homes, the cats and dogs are feral. No doubt when the temperature rises the plants will begin their invasion of the cities, until everything is blanketed in green. Will anyone stay here, or will the survivors all move out of the cities to the country? I suppose it depends on whether the few people left here can find enough food, or grow it. If not, it’s a cse of move or starve.

She pushed open a ward door, and stopped. The body lying on one of the beds was black with decay, she could still recognise the woman. Carla.

She is dead then. I knew it, but I had to see – I couldn’t drive away without knowing for certain. I’m sorry, Carla – I thought that, if I brought you here, you might still have a chance, but I guess whoever created this virus did their job too thoroughly, there was no cure to be had. Some of the people behind it all must’ve been in the hospitals, making sure that those not yet sick got the ‘inoculation’ -and what was that, then a dose of the plague to finish off those not yet sickening? Or did they just tell the authorities they had a vaccination, and let others do their dirty work all unknowing, believing that they were helping the people they were killing?

“Carla.” Her voice was still ragged from the now-breaking fever. “I hope you wouldn’t mind, but I’ll be going to your house in Iowa – I don’t know of anywhere else to go, and maybe you have family there I can inform, if they’ve survived. Goodbye Carla, I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Turning abruptly away, the young woman marched back the way she’d come, back to the waiting truck, and jumped in. Laying the shotgun down besides the seat, where she could reach it quickly in the event of trouble, she started the motor, stared out at the white-shrouded city for a few moments, then carefully drove away, out of the hospital grounds, out of Fargo, heading south along smaller side roads to avoid possible gang ambushes, heading for Iowa.

The darkness felt almost oppressive after so many hours alone. The truck was powerful and making good time, storms and snow notwithstanding, but there was no sound apart from that of the engine. No radio, not anymore, no-one to talk to, just one young woman alone. The back of the truck was piled high with supplies of all kinds, and now even the trailer was stocked up with large reels of something or other, and boxes with yet more supplies of some kind, draped with tarpaulins for protection from the elements. By now Sarah had enough to start a little settlement all by herself – but that was not the plan at all.

She was going to find other people, people who could be trusted, and start a new life.

By now, her family must have been affected by the plague. She had no idea if any of them were still alive, but even if they survived, there was no way to contact them – the storms were blocking signals, and she didn’t even know if the mobile phone masts were still working, or the satellites online, or if computer networks were still operational. People who’d worked there must’ve been dying like everyone else, or fleeing to return to their families. And even if, by some miracle, she did manage to get in touch with her family, would they even want her back, or would they turn their backs on her even now? No, she wouldn’t want to have that happen, she’d rather not know – it was only her little sister she’d miss, after all.

A flurry of snow hit the windscreen almost blinding her, and she slowed. The small roads she was using were much more prone to being blocked by the snowdrifts than the main roads would’ve been, but by keeping off the larger roads she figured there was less chance of her running into ambushes by gangs or other undesirables.

Changing down a gear, she proceeded on her way.

---------------------------------

Cedar Rapids. That’s not far from where Carla lived, as I recall. Let me check the map. Yes, that’s right, not far now, maybe only a couple of hours. God, I’m so tired, so bloody tired ... I feel Like I’ve been driving for weeks! Well, I suppose I have driven down from Canada in a few days ‘rest’ in a war zone, one of which was spent in a fever. I just want to find somewhere I can stay, somewhere safe, with people I can trust, where I can rest, and stop worrying about who or what I might run into.

Sarah yawned and rubbed her eyes, heavy with fatigue. Staring out into the night, the blackness enlivened only by the white snow, was making her eyes burn, and she could see in the main mirror that her eyes were red-dimmed, like someone almost dead.

She stopped, staring at herself. Red eyes, as if she’d been crying. For what, her family? Or for the world to which she’d belonged, the world now gone, destroyed by the virus that had swept the globe? She didn’t know. Her family and she were estranged, and had been for years. Her little sister was the only one keeping in touch, and that only when her parents wouldn’t find out. She’d dreamt of reconciling with them, but now it would never happen ....

Her head fell into her hands, and her shoulders began shaking as she silently wept.

------------------------------------------------

The drive was hard, the snowdrifts deep enough to cause difficulties in pushing through, even for the powerful truck. Sarah was getting more and more fatigued, and she would soon have to rest. It had been a hard drive, keeping to small roads, which had meant heading directly southwards through Traer, Tama and Montezuma, then Oskaloosa and Ottumwa. The road then led south to Bloomfield, after which she turned onto Highway 2 eastwards towards Farmington. She had to keep stopping to check the map, delaying her further, but it was necessary – Satnav couldn’t be relied on, and she had no-one else to read the maps for her. Still, the distance left to travel was getting less by the minute.

Thirty or so miles to go. I could be there in an hour or thereabout, and I can finally relax, finally rest. I don’t know if anyone is going to be there or no, and if there is, whether I can trust them. But I’ll have to cross that bridge when I get to it, won’t I? So, it’s Pulaski, Milton, Cantril, then look for the south turn onto the W20 down to Mount Sterling. Please let it be clear – after all this time travelling, I don’t know if I could stand any setbacks when I’m so close ...

Sarah stared ahead, trying hard not to cry. All this way, and now - !

The road was blocked. A telegraph pole had come down, probably due to the storm-force winds which had been sweeping the area, and now lay directly across the road she'd been taking down to Mount Sterling. As far as she remembered from her brief perusal of the map, there was no other road running parallel to this one which would take her down to her destination. Instead, she would need to do a one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn, head back to the main road she'd turned off, turn right, go along to Farmington, head south, then back west - a long detour, and she was already tired after driving for eighteen hours without a break.

There was a turning off the road a few miles back, it looked like a private road to a house, or farm, or something, not a through road actually leading anywhere. If I went back and followed the road, I might be able to find somewhere to rest for a few hours before having another go. It's worth a try - I need a break. There might even be a chainsaw in the back - I think I took a couple - but using one when I feel as tired as this is a good way to end up injuring myself. No, a break's what you need and it's what you're going to take.

She slowly turned the truck round and drove carefully back the way she'd come, looking for the turning off she remembered. Finding it, she left the road and drove towards the buildings she could vaguely see in the distance.

I wonder if there's anyone there ...



OOC : Okay everyone, Sarah's here! Max, Jack and Skye - it's your current location I oh so coincidentally happen to be approaching, so I'll be joining you on that thread now.