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fresh aches I had gained from sleeping on the floor. Lily was still asleep, curled up in the foetal position in the corner of the room. Brian was sat behind the reception desk, hands busy as he fiddled with a small radio. A thump from beyond our barricade indicated that at least one of the zombies had managed to climb the stairs.
    A trip to the bathroom took care of my first concern. The second would be harder. I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning.
    “You find anything to eat in that desk?” I asked Brian.
    “No.” He replied curtly. He said this with a sneer, lips pursed. I had little interest in conversing with Brian but in an attempt to distract my thoughts from my grumbling belly, I tried to ask a few questions. Brian’s responses were single worded and full of distaste. I gave up.
    I filled one of the dwindling stock of cups that were stacked neatly on top of the cooler with water and drank. I had read somewhere that if you are hungry and drink water it could fool your stomach into thinking it was full. Three cups of water and fifteen minutes later I just needed to use the bathroom again and was still yearning for something to eat.
    Brian had finally settled on a radio station. The sound went in and out on the crappy little radio but we got the gist. The world as we knew it was definitely over. Zombies had been reported in nearly every nation. A few of the islands considered themselves to be clear and had closed their borders.
    Our own beloved government had decided that it was time to vacate London for a safer location. The largest cities in England were now considered lost. There were far too many people, too many zombies and nowhere near enough troops to contain the problem. The military in its wisdom had decided to consolidate the smaller towns and cities where it could. People were being advised that help was unlikely to reach them. If you wanted safety, food or medical treatment you would have to risk the journey to your nearest relief centre.
    The news started to repeat and Brian started playing with the dial again. “So that’s it then.” Lily said as she sat up rubbing eyes that had dark rings under them. I wondered how much sleep she had managed. “See if you can find a local station, it may list local relief centres.” She instructed Brian who nodded and bent to the task.
    With Brian busy on the radio Lily headed to the bathroom. I decided that I had better check the emergency exit. The art gallery was the same, early morning light shining through the skylights. The store room door opened to reveal the dark interior to be quiet and still, dust floated lazily in the light that spilled through the open door.
    The emergency exit was the same as any other I had seen. A metallic gray door with a push bar handle. Wary of an alarm sounding when the door opened I checked for any wires connected and found none. The gallery must have been depending on the door itself being proof enough. Minimal security equals minimal cost to the local council no doubt. I cautiously pushed down on the handle and the door swung open.
    Beyond the open door was a black steel fire escape. The grime encrusted steps covered in pigeon droppings, led down to a parking lot behind the library building. A few cars that likely belonged to the library and gallery staff were parked in the lot. A large wire mesh on a metal frame formed the gate that presently stood open.
    From my vantage point I couldn’t see any zombies but a large part of the car park was hidden from view. We would have to be cautious. The exit door definitely opened only from the inside. I stepped back within and grabbed one of the heavier looking boxes and opened the door once more. I placed the box on the fire escape to prevent the door closing. If things went badly, we could at least get back inside.
    Exit secure I headed back inside the building to find Lily striding through the gallery purposefully towards me, radio in one hand and Brian hobbling