most subtle approach, but it had worked. The models were wearing a dusting of glass bits, glinting in the sunshine, and the window was no more, a thousand pieces sprayed into the heart of the shop.
I climbed into the small room, carefully knocking out jagged shards that poked sharply at me from dangerous angles as I went, my eyes scanning ahead for any that might stab me as I passed. This was not a day to be getting injured. I doubted that A&E were up and running even if I could get myself there. I wasn’t sure that I’d make the cut if it were survival of the fittest, but if it was survival of the wariest, then I was in with a fighting chance.
The shop was well lit from the sun outside, but the air was refreshingly cool as I brushed past the rows of
57
suits. I needed new clothes, yes, but a shirt and tie weren’t really what I had in mind. At the far side there was a rack of shelves with neatly folded trousers and jumpers filling them, and it was there I headed, ripping them out to find some my size.
Much to my surprise, I found a pair of pretty respectable chinos, a Levi’s T-shirt and a crew neck jumper, all of which were wearable without disgrace. Coming across some Calvin Klein underpants brought me out in a full-blown smile. A pang of pain went through me as I imagined how pleased Chloe would be at my concern for appearance at a time like this, and I shoved it aside, peeling off my dirty clothes right there in the middle of the shop, dressing quickly in their crisp clean replacements.
Straightening up after re-tying my laces, I noticed a slimline portable radio on the counter above the till and credit card machine and my heart leapt nervously. Here was my chance to find out if anyone knew just what was going on in Stony and how widespread the problem was. Moving across the shop, my hand hovered above the On button for a second. Despite the horrors of the night before, there was still a certain amount of bliss in ignorance, and at the moment I could almost ignore the evidence to the contrary and believe that this was solely a local nightmare. I took a deep breath and pushed down on the thin steel.
Quiet static replaced the silence. Puzzled, I checked the frequency. 98.2. Radio One should have been blurting out some new tune or another, or at least reporting on all this. I turned the dial, slowly running the full length of the FM band. Still nothing. I could feel my own pulse throbbing through my body. Surely
58
someone was broadcasting somewhere. Surely they must be.
Flicking a switch on the front I searched the medium and then long wave bands, my head lowered listening intently for anything, any sign of life. For a moment, a brief instant in time, I thought I heard the faint strains of an orchestra drifting in from a galaxy away, but it was gone before I could convince myself that it was really there. Despite creeping the dial backwards and forwards millimetre by millimetre trying to find it again, it was lost in the sea of white noise.
Turning the radio off, I mulled over the options. Either there was no one the length and breadth of the country attempting to broadcast, or something had happened to the radio signal. Maybe somehow it was being blocked. With that flash of thought, I stretched over the counter and grabbed the telephone, pulling the receiver to my ear. Instead of the familiar tone, again all I could hear was deathly static. Slowly, I put it back and leaned against the counter. My hands clammy, I gazed through the vandalised window at the bright day outside, staring at everything and nothing, and my skin tingled both inside and out. If there’d been a TV there, then I guessed that all it would be delivering was snow and crackle. So what was doing it? Some coincidental breakdown in all the communication networks?
Shivering, I remembered Chloe standing silently in the sitting room with that secretive smile on her face, her deadened eyes almost laughing at me. I’m talking to
I climbed into the small room, carefully knocking out jagged shards that poked sharply at me from dangerous angles as I went, my eyes scanning ahead for any that might stab me as I passed. This was not a day to be getting injured. I doubted that A&E were up and running even if I could get myself there. I wasn’t sure that I’d make the cut if it were survival of the fittest, but if it was survival of the wariest, then I was in with a fighting chance.
The shop was well lit from the sun outside, but the air was refreshingly cool as I brushed past the rows of
57
suits. I needed new clothes, yes, but a shirt and tie weren’t really what I had in mind. At the far side there was a rack of shelves with neatly folded trousers and jumpers filling them, and it was there I headed, ripping them out to find some my size.
Much to my surprise, I found a pair of pretty respectable chinos, a Levi’s T-shirt and a crew neck jumper, all of which were wearable without disgrace. Coming across some Calvin Klein underpants brought me out in a full-blown smile. A pang of pain went through me as I imagined how pleased Chloe would be at my concern for appearance at a time like this, and I shoved it aside, peeling off my dirty clothes right there in the middle of the shop, dressing quickly in their crisp clean replacements.
Straightening up after re-tying my laces, I noticed a slimline portable radio on the counter above the till and credit card machine and my heart leapt nervously. Here was my chance to find out if anyone knew just what was going on in Stony and how widespread the problem was. Moving across the shop, my hand hovered above the On button for a second. Despite the horrors of the night before, there was still a certain amount of bliss in ignorance, and at the moment I could almost ignore the evidence to the contrary and believe that this was solely a local nightmare. I took a deep breath and pushed down on the thin steel.
Quiet static replaced the silence. Puzzled, I checked the frequency. 98.2. Radio One should have been blurting out some new tune or another, or at least reporting on all this. I turned the dial, slowly running the full length of the FM band. Still nothing. I could feel my own pulse throbbing through my body. Surely
58
someone was broadcasting somewhere. Surely they must be.
Flicking a switch on the front I searched the medium and then long wave bands, my head lowered listening intently for anything, any sign of life. For a moment, a brief instant in time, I thought I heard the faint strains of an orchestra drifting in from a galaxy away, but it was gone before I could convince myself that it was really there. Despite creeping the dial backwards and forwards millimetre by millimetre trying to find it again, it was lost in the sea of white noise.
Turning the radio off, I mulled over the options. Either there was no one the length and breadth of the country attempting to broadcast, or something had happened to the radio signal. Maybe somehow it was being blocked. With that flash of thought, I stretched over the counter and grabbed the telephone, pulling the receiver to my ear. Instead of the familiar tone, again all I could hear was deathly static. Slowly, I put it back and leaned against the counter. My hands clammy, I gazed through the vandalised window at the bright day outside, staring at everything and nothing, and my skin tingled both inside and out. If there’d been a TV there, then I guessed that all it would be delivering was snow and crackle. So what was doing it? Some coincidental breakdown in all the communication networks?
Shivering, I remembered Chloe standing silently in the sitting room with that secretive smile on her face, her deadened eyes almost laughing at me. I’m talking to
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