Free Surviving The Evacuation (Book 1): London by Frank Tayell Page A

trying to get in. It's easy enough for you to say “make sure They don't see you.” What about hear me? What about smell me? They might as well have those senses as sight. Besides if the zombies can't see me then neither can whoever Jen sends.
    That is the problem, because, you see, I heard an engine. It definitely was an engine this time, and one that was quite close. It wasn't moving fast, just steadily as if, and maybe it's just wishful thinking, but as if someone inside was travelling slow enough to read the house numbers. Since I can't see much from my window, just the street immediately below and a lot of roof tops beyond, I hurried downstairs to get a view from the other side of the house. Except, of course, for me hurrying means moving agonisingly slowly.
    I could hear the car getting closer, heading this way down the street, down this street, a slow rumbling sound interspersed with an odd muffled thumping . I was saved! Except it was getting closer and I was still hobbling down the stairs. I limped faster, giving no heed to the racket I was making, nor about any extra injury to my leg, not caring about anything except getting to the window and seeing that car. Jessica's room was closest, I hurried in and pulled back the curtain and stood there, peering out into the gloom that lay down the road, looking in the direction I was sure that it was coming from.
    Nothing. I twisted my head and there, I saw it. The most beautiful and terrible sight I've ever seen, red glowing lights slowly receding as the car drove away. It was an SUV of some kind and it was already a hundred yards down the street. It wasn't moving fast, barely faster than walking speed, but that's still faster than I can manage.
    What to do? What could I do? I had to let them know I was here. I could be at the car in seconds. Minutes at most. I could go with them, I could escape, all I had to do was get outside and cross the few hundred yards that separated us. All I had to do... I tore my gaze from the car and looked down at the street below. There were dozens of Them, more than I could easily count. The car was pulling Them along in its wake. The odd thumping sound was caused when it hit one of the undead. I'd not noticed, because I'd been looking for the car, but where there had been a handful a few days ago, now the street was packed.
    Some reflexive self preservation mechanism kicked in and I dropped to the floor. I actually dropped, that was impressive, at least I'm impressed at the way my body reacted whilst my brain was busy being an idiot. The pain in my leg was immense, it sent needles of fire right up my spine, and I bit my tongue trying to stop myself from screaming out loud
     
    I'd only been at the window a few seconds and I can only hope that the noise and the lights were such a distraction that They didn't see me. I retreated back upstairs as quietly as I could. I can't hear the car any more. It's disappeared off to the west somewhere. So close. So far.
    I don't think I was spotted, but I can't be sure. It's nosier outside now, that pervasive sound of shuffling has been joined by a banging clatter as They knock into cars, bins and one another. I can't hear any sound from the doors down stairs, but I don't dare go and see. I don't even dare look out the window. If They know I’m here, then what? I'll be trapped, dead from starvation in under two months.
    That was my rescue. I’m sure of it. Even if that car wasn't sent by Jen, even if it only came along my road by accident, that was my chance to get out. Now I feel that I’m completely on my own.
     
    06:00, 18 th March.
    Oh, and it looks like They are just as active at night as in the day. So that’s good...
     
    16:00, 18 th March.
    I fell asleep reading a book this morning. It's called “Death Comes To All” by an E.R.K. Daley. I’m sure that the title is a quote, but without the internet I couldn’t tell you whose. Probably it's something Churchill said, either him or Shakespeare.