"David Moody - Autumn 2 - Purification" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moody David)

they had control, intelligence and power on their side, they were afraid to move. It was obvious to all of
the lost and terrified souls trapped in the concrete maze below the fields and hills that the sheer number of
bodies on the surface would soon be too much for them. Their options were desperately limited. They
could sit and wait, but no-one knew what they’d be waiting for. They could go above ground and fight,
but what would that achieve? What use was open space and fresh air to the military? The disease still
hung heavy in the contaminated air. Each one of the soldiers and their officers knew that a single breath
would, in all probability, be enough to kill them. And the survivors immune to the disease who also
sheltered there knew that they would fare no better from such a confrontation either. Any attempt to clear
the bodies from above the base might help in the short term, but the noise and movement such an act
would inevitably cause would doubtless result in thousands upon thousands more cadavers being drawn
nearer to the shelter.
Below the surface the survivors and the military were forced to remain apart. The base was
reasonably well-equipped and technologically advanced. Designed to cope with the expected
after-effects of chemical, nuclear or biological attack, the air pumped through the underground levels was
pure and free from infection. The survivors, however, were not. Decontamination had been half-heartedly
attempted, but the woefully ill-prepared military commanders, scientists and advisers who controlled the
base had known from the start that it had been a futile exercise. The germ could be washed away from
equipment and from the soldier’s protective suits, but the survivors were riddled with infection. They had
been breathing the contaminated air constantly for more than a month and a half. Virtually every cell in
their bodies must surely have carried the deadly contagion and, whilst it had no effect on them, even the
slightest exposure might be sufficient to start the deadly chain reaction which would inevitably lay waste
to the soldiers and contaminate the base.
Despite their sizeable arsenal of weapons and the huge psychological and intellectual advantage which
they had over the dead, the soldiers and survivors alike knew that they were trapped. The men, women
and children sheltering underground lived with a constant sense of uncomfortable claustrophobia and
despair. The military occupied almost all of the complex (everything beyond the entrance to the
decontamination chambers) with the thirty-seven survivors having to exist in the main hanger and a few
adjacent storage, utility and maintenance rooms. Space, light, heat and comfort was severely limited.
After fighting through the hell above ground, however, the limitations of the military facility were readily
accepted and hugely appreciated. The alternatives which awaited them on the surface were unthinkable.
1
Emma Mitchell

It’s almost two o’clock.
I think it’s two o’clock in the morning, but I’m not completely sure. There’s no way of telling whether
it’s day or night down here and, if I’m honest, it doesn’t matter. Whatever time of day or night it is, it’s
always dark. There are always some people sleeping and there are always other people awake. There
are always people gathered in groups and huddles talking in secret whispers about nothing. There are
always people crying, moaning, fighting and arguing. There are always soldiers moving through the
decontamination chambers or coming into the hanger to check, double-check and triple-check their
stockpiled equipment and machinery.
I can’t sleep.
I’ve been lying here with Michael for the best part of two hours now. I always seem to feel guilty
when we’ve been together like this and I can’t clear my head enough to switch off and sleep like he can.
I wish I could. We haven’t done anything wrong. We’ve made love together four times in the three
weeks since we’ve been down here and each time he’s slept for hours afterwards. When I ask him why
he tells me that when we’ve been together like this he feels more human and complete than he does the
rest of the time. He tells me that what we do makes him feel the way he used to feel before all of this
happened.
Sex is different now. In many ways it’s sad and it reminds me of everything I’ve lost. In other ways it