Mark Morris - Bay of the Dead

She shouted something, but he wasn't sure what it was. He thought she was maybe telling him to duck, to move out of the way. He flattened himself against the ladder, clinging to it the way Keith had clung to it seconds earlier. Next moment there was a roaring explosion by his ear, so loud that it not only deafened him, but sent a flash of light through his head like a bolt of lightning. He felt a split second's heat, and smelled something like scorched metal. Then abruptly the grip around his ankle loosened, though oddly Rhys could still feel the touch of the dead thing's unpleasantly yielding fingers.

He looked down, and saw that the hand was indeed still curled around his ankle — but that it was no longer attached to a body. The zombie, its foreshortened right arm a splintered mass of bone and meat, was sprawled at the bottom of the ladder, struggling to sit up. Repulsed, Rhys shook his leg, and the hand slid away from his ankle like a dead crab and fell to the ground below. More zombies were shuffling along the landing now, reaching out for him. He scrambled up the ladder and through the gap in the ceiling.

As soon as he was through, Gwen pointed her gun down through the hole and pulled the trigger. The head of a zombie which had reached the ladder disintegrated and it fell backwards. With Rhys's help, Gwen hauled the ladder up into the attic and slammed the panel into place.

They sat there in the dark, wheezing and gasping.

Finally Gwen said, 'We're safe.'

In the gloom, Naomi scowled at her.

'We're trapped, you mean,' she said.

Andy and Sophie sat side by side on the settee, munching slice after slice of cheese on toast. They had been amazed to discover how hungry they both were — and this despite the fact that Sophie had declared that the piccalilli with which Andy had coated his cheese 'smelled like puke'.

'You think this is bad,' Andy said around a mouthful of food, 'I had a mate who used to bring cheese and marmalade sandwiches to work every day.'

Sophie licked butter off her fingers and took a swig of tea. 'I tried tuna and banana once,' she said.

Andy grimaced. 'That's disgusting . What did it taste like?'

'It wasn't so bad once I put the ketchup on.'

'You never-' he began, and then he saw the expression on her face. 'You're pulling my leg, aren't you?'

'A bit,' she admitted. 'It was soy sauce, not ketchup.'

Andy laughed — though, as with every other rare and spontaneous outburst of humour this evening, the sound died quickly. It felt almost disrespectful to laugh after everything they had seen and experienced tonight and, whenever either of them did, it was invariably followed by a guilty and embarrassed silence.

Sure enough, for a minute or two they sat without speaking, crunching toast and listening to the thumping and writhing of Dawn on the floor of the bedroom, struggling tirelessly against her bonds.

Eventually Andy said, 'Um. . Sophie?'

'Yeah?'

'I don't suppose. . once all this is over, I mean. . you wouldn't fancy going out for a drink or something, would you?'

Sophie looked at him, startled — and abruptly she began to giggle. Then, just as abruptly, the giggles became sobs and suddenly she was weeping, the tears running down her face.

Andy picked up a napkin from the low table in front of the settee and handed it to her with a guilty smile.

'Must admit I've never had that reaction before,' he said.

'Oh. . sorry,' Ianto said, walking into the Boardroom and instantly turning on his heel to walk out again.

Sarah laughed. 'Don't be daft, I'm only breastfeeding. I'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable.'

Ianto turned back to face her with a stiff smile. Scrupulously maintaining eye contact, he said, 'Oh no, no. Not at all. You feed away. It's. . um. . not a problem.'

She smiled. 'It's OK. Really. He's about finished anyway.' Gently she removed the baby from her breast. He grizzled for a moment, then began sucking his fingers.

'So. . how are you?' Ianto asked.

'I'm fine. Sore and tired, obviously, but apart from that. .' She frowned slightly. 'How's Trys?'

'He's sleeping,' said Ianto quickly, thinking of her husband in the cells downstairs, staring stupidly out through the transparent wall, and occasionally blundering into it, unable to work out why he couldn't get to his prey.

'Still?' Sarah said.

'Well, we gave him some pretty strong sedatives.'

She sighed. 'I'm dying for him to see our son.'

'And he will,' Ianto said, hoping desperately that he was right. 'It won't be long now.'

He looked around, rubbing his hands together self-consciously. 'I, er, just came to see if you needed anything. Jack and I have to pop out for a bit.'

'Pop out?' she repeated, alarmed. 'You're not leaving me alone again?'

'No,' said Ianto. 'Well. . not for long. We'll be back before you know it.'

'But where are you going?'

'We think we've got a lead on what's causing this. . outbreak. We're just going to check it out.'

'But what if something happens while you're away?'

'It won't,' he said firmly. He produced a mobile from his pocket and handed it to her. 'My number's on there. Call me if you have any problems. Not that you will.'

She took the phone, but still looked worried. 'I'm really not happy about this.'

'You'll be perfectly safe,' Ianto assured her. 'Nothing can get in here. It's the most secure place in Cardiff.'

Gwen put her phone back in her pocket.

'What did Jack say?' Rhys asked.

'He said he and Ianto have got a lead on what's happening. They're on their way to St Helen's Hospital.'

'Why? What's at St Helen's Hospital?'

Gwen glanced at the Samuelses. It was clear she didn't want to discuss the situation in front of them — or, more particularly, in front of Naomi Samuels, who was not the most open-minded of people.

'Long story,' she said. 'I said we'd meet them there if we could.'

Rhys raised his eyebrows. 'How we gonna do that, love? We're stuck here for the time being.'

'Who are these people you're talking about?' Keith asked.

'Colleagues of mine,' said Gwen.

'Fellow spooks, you mean?'

'We're not spooks. But. . yeah, that kind of thing.'

She lapsed into silence, thinking. From below came the sound of dozens of zombies, blundering and shuffling about.

'Not very bright, are they?' Rhys said. 'They can't even work out how to get up here.'

'That's why we're going to win,' said Gwen, reloading her gun.

'Win?' Naomi said sourly. 'And how are we going to do that then?'

In the dusty gloom of the attic, Naomi's face was a pallid mask of pinched, nervy anger. Gwen bit back on her impulse to snap the woman's head off, telling herself yet again that Naomi was just scared — and with good reason.

'We'll find a way,' she said.

'What the hell is that supposed to mean ?' Naomi demanded. 'It doesn't mean anything.'

'Calm down, love,' Keith said placatingly. 'This isn't Gwen's fault.'

'She brought those things here, didn't she? Her and her boyfriend.'

'I'm her husband, actually,' said Rhys. He had wandered over to the grimy skylight in the roof, and was fiddling with his mobile.

'And we didn't bring them here,' Gwen said, trying not to get angry. 'Cardiff's overrun with them. It's chaos out there.'

'But they wouldn't have bothered us if you hadn't turned up,' Naomi retorted.

'We don't know that, love,' said Keith.

Gwen flashed Jasmine a reassuring smile. The little girl was clutching her yellow rabbit and eyeing the bickering adults with trepidation.

'Keith's right,' said Rhys. 'If those things had got in while you were asleep you'd have been torn apart in your beds.'

He noticed Gwen glance meaningfully at Jasmine and give a quick shake of the head. He shrugged.