supermarket before the impact. Rubbish. But I’ve never enjoyed a meal as much as that one.
“Then we heard the voices. All we had time to do was stare at one another, suddenly alerted. Before we could react, the door creaked open.
“I think it was about ten, perhaps twelve of them. Meteorwraiths. Bad ones, not like the one I saw in your church, the other day, Father.
“They were noisy. I think they might have been drunk. Or perhaps high on drugs, not sure. There were shouts and howls and grotesque laughter. Mathew and I froze and ducked down beneath the edges of the boxes around us. We hardly dared breathe. My son stared at me, and I saw fear fill his eyes. I lay a hand against him, and had him lie down on the sleeping bag. I slowly leaned forwards to peek through a tear in the boxes.
“Most of them were men. Only three or so were women. They carried bags and old suitcases, containing the goods they’d manage to salvage or steal.
“‘Shit place you found us, Kev,’ cried one of them, and they all laughed. Their laughter made something inside my chest tremble. Outside, the rain was pelting against the tin roof. They started arranging things on the ground, close to the main entrance – about twenty feet from us – and, as they shuffled around, I noticed one of them was in the terminal stages of the disease. He looked horrid. I suppose you’ve seen them too. It’s difficult to regard them as merely sick, isn’t it? The Affliction is so harsh on its victims, on their body, that one is compelled to look away.
“The others mocked him. ‘Just die, will you, Mark! You look fucking disgusting, mate.’ And they all laughed again. All but one. She was a woman, in her fifties – although it’s hard to tell, with the ‘wraiths. I think it might have been his mother. She ignored the others, and sat beside him, dabbing his feverish forehead with a damp cloth.
“At one point, a thin, mean-looking man got up and walked over to the sick one, Mark. He stood there for an instant, then kicked him, hard, in the ribs. I don’t think he even noticed, but the woman, she stood up and lashed out at the thin one. She was fierce enough that he retreated, going back to the others.
“In the meantime, and this is why I’m telling you this story, they’d been carrying all sorts of bags and boxes in. Most of them contained food. But two of them, I am sure of it, were packed full of medicine. They were large blue containers, plastic ones. The ‘wraiths must have got lucky and found one of the few pharmacies that still contained anything. The woman went straight for them, rummaging through their contents, and drawing out tablets for her son.
“It’s odd. I can recall the details now, but at the time I wasn’t actually concentrating on what I saw. All I could think of, or rather sense , was their distance from us, the likelihood of being overheard or seen. A constant, hysterical reconnaissance of our surroundings.
“Again, I was incapable of protecting my son. All I could do was try and keep us hidden as long as possible. Have you ever felt anything like it? That crippling feeling of powerlessness when realising you’re failing to adhere to that primordial instinct of protecting your offspring. I hope not, for your sake.
“I glanced down, towards my son, and he suddenly appeared so young… so innocent . He too was staring at the meteorwraiths through a slit in the cardboard. I could see his dark hair, his shoulders, a thin strip of his delicate neck. I had to press the palm of my hand against my lips, hard, to stop myself from crying.
“They sat down in a circle with that Mark and his mother a little to the side. They started drinking. I’m not sure for how long they went on for, chatting and boozing, because I sort of lost the notion of time. Every instant was now , and nothing else.
“At some point, most of them fell asleep. I looked down, and Mathew too was sleeping. I ran my fingers through his hair,