Free Surviving The Evacuation (Book 5): Reunion by Frank Tayell Page B

feed, the animals would have to be slaughtered. But once they were gone, there would be no more. Perhaps ever.
    Two boxes of baby food. That worked out at about one meal each, but it had taken all day to find and had required a battle with the undead to bring back. No, it was definitely past time he should leave. He’d made that decision the previous day, and would have been somewhere well north of London by now if he’d made the supply run on his own. He’d taken McInery’s list and deliberately chosen addresses close to one another, but he couldn’t disappear whilst Richard was with him. That was why he’d taken a detour, why he’d sought out the undead. He had planned on getting away during the fight, or just letting Richard get killed. One more death amongst so many wouldn’t matter. The man probably wouldn’t live long anyway. He’d told himself that and a dozen other half-truths, and when it came to it, he found they had rung hollow. He’d caved in the zombie’s skull a second before it was too late, and when they were leaving the small baby and infant store half an hour later, saved Richard’s life again. He’d leave tonight, Chester decided, just as soon as he’d had a few hours’ rest.
     
    “There were some warehouses out near Hounslow,” Diane said. Chester opened an eye and realised he’d drifted off to sleep. Everyone was now in the small office. A pair of saucepans bubbled away on the camping stoves. At the table, Kendra, Diane, and McInery were peeling open ketchup packets and scraping their contents into a bowl. “You know, where they stored all those in-flight meals for planes flying from Heathrow,” Diane went on. “That’s where we could look.”
    “Surely the food would have gone off,” Kendra said. “Wouldn’t they have been refrigerated? And besides, how would we get to Hounslow if Chester and Richard couldn’t even get as far as King’s Cross?”
    “Well, what about City Airport?” Diane asked. “There has to be a depot near there where they store all the peanuts and things.”
    “Probably,” Kendra said. “But is it—”
    “Shh!” Dev hissed.
    Chester opened his eyes fully.
    “What?” McInery asked.
    “Shh!” The young man waved his hand at the radio. This time everyone became silent. “There’s a signal,” Dev said. “Found it. Listen.” He unplugged the headphones and from the small speaker they heard, in a cultured English accent:
    “… stay indoors. If you or someone with you is infected, kill them. There is no cure for the infection. Do not leave your homes. If you can, hang a white sheet from windows on the first floor or higher. Listen for further instructions.”
    There was a pause, then music began to play. For a moment there was nothing but the soft strains of an orchestra.
    “What does it mean?” Kendra finally asked.
    “It means there are other people,” Richard said.
    “No,” Dev said slowly, turning the volume down. “There’s a cough, just after ‘homes’. It’s a looped message.”
    “So?” Richard asked.
    “So,” Chester said, “it means that there were people there once, but maybe not anymore.”
    “No,” McInery said. “I think Richard is right. A broadcast requires electricity. That requires a generator, and those require constant refuelling.”
    “They could have left it running and gone away,” Chester said. His neck was stiff, his legs ached and he was so very tired.
    “I’ve been listening to it for over an hour,” Dev said. “How long can you leave a generator running?”
    “A few hours, if it’s the portable kind,” Chester said. “Days if it’s a larger model.”
    “But if it was your last broadcast you wouldn’t tell people to do that thing with the sheets,” Richard said.
    Chester looked around for support.
    “What he said,” Kendra said with a smirk.
    “Is it on long wave or FM?” McInery asked Dev.
    “Long wave. I think it’s the frequency they were using for the emergency broadcast. Is