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The pre-disaster clock had been all but forgotten by most people, daily routines consigned to the rubbish dump of history. Seasonal variations, however, were harder to ignore. Daylight hours in London in November evaporated fast, the darkness gnawing away at both ends of the day. The light was fading rapidly now and would be gone completely within the hour. Dealing with the dead in daylight was dangerous enough; usually the first stretching shadows of twilight was the signal to pack up for the night and get back under cover until morning, but today was an exception. Relocating the contents of a perfectly preserved supermarket was too important a job to leave until tomorrow.
They’d fortified their access points then cleared more space around the entrance to the building, using heavy ma
