Breathless and feeling strangely exhilarated, Michael returned to the Land Rover.
‘We’re going,’ he said.
‘Where?’
‘I don’t care.’ He wiped his hands clean on a towel then threw it out of the window. ‘Anywhere but here. I’m not going to be a prisoner.’
He started the engine, and another corpse dragged itself up onto the rooftop, seemingly in response to the noise.
‘Are you sure about this? You were the one who—’
‘I know what I said,’ he interrupted, ‘and I was wrong. And no, I’m not sure about this, but if we do something and f**k it up, at least we’ll have tried. You were right, we can’t just sit up here and either starve to death or wait for them to get us. I’m taking back control, Em.’
She was about to speak again, but it was too late. Michael put his foot down and the Land Rover
