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it.
    Someone had let the cat out of the bag (so to speak) when the Jenkins thing went down. And the funders, the government or whoever was behind Project QT, responded by sealing everyone into the labs. After all she’d seen, Ellis could only suspect the worst. They’d contained the virus, buried their dirty little secret. It was only a matter of time before they sent some clean-up team in.
    Her stomach rumbled.
    Ellis slid open a few cabinets. Her mouth watered with the thought of eating. She moved through to the kitchen area, checking the various cupboards and cabinets there, finding nothing, save shining pots and pans all neatly stacked, awaiting the attention of chefs and catering staff that would never again use them.
    Ellis reached a door at the back. She read the sign STORE and went to open it.
    A hand reached to stop her. Ellis pulled away, startled. It was only Abe.
    “Sorry, Ellie. You don’t want to open that...”
    “Why not?”
    “When I was here , before I met you, there were a few of those things lurking around. I took care of them. Put their bodies in that store. The place is going to stink.”
    “But that’s just... stupid .” Ellis complained. “You could have put them in the maintenance cupboard. We need this food, Abe!”
    Abe looked embarrassed. “I... er...” His head dropped and he started playing with his hands.
    Ellis swore under her breath. She remembered how the seniors would sometimes talk to Abe. People like Johnson weren’t shy of belittling the security guard in front of other staff when something went wrong. Ellis would feel pity for Abe when they were mean like that, but he’d always just laugh it off. Deep down, it was bound to hurt.
    “I’m sorry,” Ellis said now. “That was rude.”
    “It’s okay. You’re right; it was a stupid thing to do.” He smiled meekly. “But I’m just the dopey security guard, after all...”
    Ellis blushed. She felt terrible.
    Abe pointed to a few boxes stacked by the fridge. “Look, it’s not much,” he said. “But I noticed those earlier.”
    Ellis investigated, finding the boxes filled with tinned foods and cans of drink. She looked up, smiled.
    “I think they were to be thrown out,” Abe said. “Most of them are close to their use-by date, but they should keep us right for a while.”
    “Thanks,” Ellis said, cradling a tin of canned tuna to her chest. “For everything, I mean. You saved my life back there, and...” She looked down at the tuna. “Well, I just don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
    “You don’t need to,” Abe said. “I’m just doing my job. Dopey security guard. Remember?”
    Ellis smiled.
    “Seriously,” he said. “I’m going to take care of you now. It’s going to be alright.”
    Ellis wished she could believe that.

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Days passed. Maybe a week. It was hard to tell. The clock in the canteen had stopped. Neither of them wore a watch. When you’re standing in the same position for eight to ten hours a day , Abe had told her, the last thing you need is a damn watch.
    They remained in the canteen. They waited for something to happen, someone to come.
    They ate sparingly. Occasionally they slept.
    They talked.
    Ellis wept sometimes, her sobs echoing like breaking plates throughout the empty canteen. Abe would try to comfort her but then get embarrassed, look away or stare down at those big hands of his.
    With the complex located underground, there was no natural light. No windows to look out or call for help from. They saved the batteries on Abe’s headgear light by using candles. Sometimes the candlelight preyed on their minds, throwing shadows across doors, suggesting movement where there was no movement.
    There was noise.
    The quiet murmur of the air con; still working despite their fears to the contrary. The lazy scraping on the glass from those infernal cats, grating like nails across chalkboard until Abe pinned some more buffers against the door, obscuring the view and dulling