Autumn | Page 5

dare and put my ear next to his mouth. I held my breath and waited to
hear even the slightest sounds of breathing. I wished that the suddenly
silent world would become quieter still so that I could hear something.
It was hopeless. There was nothing.
I walked out into the cool September sunlight and crossed the empty
playground. Just one glance at the devastated scene outside the school
gates was enough for me to realise that whatever it was that had
happened inside the building had happened outside too. Random bodies
littered the streets for as far as I could see.
In seven hours since it happened I've seen no-one else.
My house is cold and secure but it doesn't feel safe. I can't stay there. I
have to keep looking. I can't be the only one left.
The phones aren't working.
There's no electricity.
There's nothing but static on the radio.
I've never been so fucking frightened.
3
Emma Mitchell
Sick, cold and tired.
I felt bad. I decided to skip my lecture and stay at home. I had one of
those fevers where I was too hot to stay in bed and too cold to get up. I
felt too sick to do anything but too guilty to sit still and do nothing. I
had tried to do some studying for a while. I gave up when I realised that
I'd had five attempts at reading the same paragraph but had never made
it past the middle of the third line.
Kayleigh, my flat mate, hadn't been home for almost two days. She'd

phoned so she knew I felt bad and she'd promised to pick up some milk
and a loaf of bread. I cursed her as I searched through the kitchen
cupboards for something to eat. They were empty, and I was forced to
accept that I'd have to pull myself together and go shopping.
Wrapped up in my thickest coat I tripped and sniffed to the shop at the
end of Maple Street feeling drained, pathetic and thoroughly sorry for
myself.
There were three customers (including me) in Mr Rashid's shop. I didn't
pay any of them any attention at first. I was stood there haggling with
myself, trying to justify spending a few pence more on my favourite
brand of spaghetti sauce, when an old bloke lurched at me. For the
fraction of a second before he touched me I was half-aware that he was
coming. He reached out and grabbed hold of my arm. He was fighting
for breath. It looked like he was having an asthma attack or something.
I was only five terms into my five years of medical study and I didn't
have a clue what was happening to him.
His face was ashen white and the grip he had on my sleeve tightened. I
started to try and squirm away from him but I couldn't get free. I
dropped my shopping basket and tried to prise his bony fingers off my
arm.
There was a sudden noise behind me and I looked back over my
shoulder to see that the other shopper had collapsed into a display rack,
sending jars, tins and packets of food crashing to the ground. He lay on
his back amongst them, coughing, holding his throat and writhing
around in agony.
I felt the grip on my arm loosen and I turned back to look at the old
man. Tears of inexplicable pain and fear ran freely down his weathered
cheeks as he fought to catch his breath. His throat was obviously
blocked, but I couldn't tell by what. My brain slowly began to click into
gear and I started thinking about loosening his collar and laying him
down. Before I could do anything he opened his wide, toothless mouth
and I saw that there was blood inside. The thick crimson blood trickled
down his chin and began to drip on the floor in front of me. He dropped

to the ground at my feet and I watched helplessly as his body convulsed
and shook.
I turned back to look at the other man who also lay on the marble floor,
thrashing his arms and legs desperately around him.
I ran to the back of the shop to try and find Mr Rashid. The shop led
directly into their home. By the time I found him and his wife they
were both dead. Mrs Rashid had fallen in the kitchen and lay next to an
upturned chair. The tap was still running. The sink had overfilled and
water was spilling down the units and collecting in a pool around the
dead lady's legs. Mr Rashid lay in the middle of the living room carpet.
His face was screwed up in agony. He looked terrified.
I ran back