Cherringham--Snowblind Read Online Free PDF Page A

dopily, their arms up against the bright light.
    There was a dank smell to the room that he knew so well from the last year or two looking after his elderly mother.
    That had been such a sad, sad time — and the smell took him right back to those dismal days, the long visits to the home with nothing to talk about.
    His own mother not recognising him, sometimes confusing him with her own long-dead father.
    Jeez, that was about the lowest it ever got, he thought.
    “Hi everybody,” he called cheerily into the gloom. “I’m Jack and I’m here to get the lights going.”
    “Well get a bloody move on will you!” came a man’s voice from one corner.
    “And when you’ve done that you can get us a hot meal too!” came another voice.
    “Bleedin’ Yanks, always late to the party,” said another.
    Jack had to grin at that.
    They may be old …
    “Has he got chocolate?” came a female voice from the far side. “Love a piece of chocolate.”
    “Why, what are you going to give him if he has?”
    “You keep your knickers on, Elsie,” said another female voice and a ripple of laughter went round the room.
    Amazing, Jack thought. No power, no food, no light, but these guys weren’t done for by any means.
    He shut the door and went further down the corridor where another door opened into the kitchens.
    As he went through, his phone sweeping from side to side, he could see long lines of worktops and double cookers. The place was well kitted out and the surfaces were clean, but he caught a smell … food rotting in bins that needed be taken out.
    Through the kitchens, a door opened out into a walled yard. A trail of footprints in the snow led to an outhouse. Through its window, Jack could see the flickering of an emergency light, struggling to stay lit.
    What a place , he thought.
    He crossed the yard and pushed open the door — immediately a bright torch light shone in his face.
    “Just effing stay out of here will you!” came an angry voice from the far end of the room.
    “Afraid that’s not what I had in mind,” said Jack, shielding his eyes. “You mind pointing that thing somewhere else, my friend?”
    “Who the hell are you?”
    “Someone who’s come to help — who were you expecting?”
    “I thought you was one of them bloody old zombies, I can’t stop them coming in here, messing me around.”
    Jack crossed the room towards the torch and pointed his own light so he could see who he was talking to.
    A young man in his twenties was sitting on the cement floor next to a generator, in a pile of nuts, bolts, rags and spark plugs.
    Jack went over and crouched next to him.
    “Well, I’m not a zombie. And I do know a little about generators. Name’s Jack.”
    “I’m Craig.”
    “So Craig — you the caretaker?”
    “Does it look like it? No, I’m a Healthcare Assistant, mate.”
    “You need a hand?”
    “Too bloody right. I haven’t got a clue.”
    “Not your line of expertise, huh, this kind of thing?”
    “No way. I shouldn’t even be here. I got stranded yesterday, see. First the mains power went. Then the Jenny packed up. Bleedin’ nightmare it is.”
    Jack put down his phone, took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Then he started to pick his way through the pile of parts that Craig had assembled on the concrete floor.
    “What seems to be the problem?”
    “It doesn’t bloody work now, does it? That’s the problem.”
    Jack took a long hard look at Craig the so-called Healthcare Assistant and took a deep breath.
    It’s going to be a long afternoon, he thought.
    He started to sort and line up the parts, and began to draw up a checklist in his head for how he was going to diagnose and fix this generator.
    Because without power, he thought, there was a real risk to the lives of the residents of this place.
    Somehow they’d all have to be evacuated.
    That — with another massive storm on the way.
    “So what other staff are here?” he said, patiently cleaning components as he