Class Four: Those Who Survive Read Online Free PDF

much anyway, especially after that time with the hospital, when, you know, oh of course, you don’t. Well let’s just say that something stopped working.
    Women’s things.
    Sorry.
    Donald was only eating in the mornings now, and sometimes at night, but even then it was just some pasta with tomato ketchup on. He said that the pain made him not want to eat. He said his ankle was better, but it still caused him trouble. Helping him get to the toilet was becoming nigh on impossible, so he told me to find a bucket, and he just did his business in the living room.
    Hmm? Yes, I did have to. Usually only once a day, but sometimes, it was two or three times. Almost like looking after a child I suppose, though we never had children.
    Well, because of…you know.
    Those women’s things I mentioned.
    Day twenty two. That was when the food ran out. Always prided myself on being able to cook on a budget; had to since we got together. Donald used to give me a weekly allowance which included all the food for both of us, so I had to make it last.
    I never worked, not after we got married, Donald said it wasn’t befitting of a woman, that I was his princess and deserved to stay at home and keep the place all nice for him.
    For us.
    Sorry.
    I crept in that morning. The sherry had gone. I knew the cabinet would be bare, so thought that he might be having one of his…migraines. I saw he had done his ablutions already. He was asleep. As I got near, he stirred, and an empty bottle of mouthwash fell out from his cardigan.
    Poor Donald. Never was able to stop once he got the taste of it. Well, there was that one time, where he had to go away for a few weeks, but we don’t like to talk about that.
    Hmm? Where did he get the mouthwash from? Hmm. I don’t know; never thought about it really. It would’ve been in the bathroom cabinet upstairs.
    You don’t think?
    No.
    He wouldn’t, he could barely move.
    He couldn’t have got it. I must’ve brought it downstairs for some reason.
    As I snuck away carrying the bucket with the…you know, in, he stirred, asking me what I was doing. I told him that I was just going to tidy up. He grunted and started to nod off. I knew there would be no better time, so I said that we needed to go somewhere and find food, that if we stayed there much longer, we were going to go hungry.
    He nodded, said we had to get out of the cottage, find some more supplies. Said his ankle was much better. I had tried to change the dressing over the past week, but he didn’t let me. It did smell funny.
    Like marzipan.
    There was a little village shop about five miles away. I cleaned him up the best I could, but he still couldn’t walk properly. I loaded our cases in the car, and Donald got in the driver’s seat. Ten minutes later, and after trying to put the gearstick into number one, he got out and said that I’d have to do it.
    I wasn’t very happy about it, but smiled and said I would give it a go. Took a bit of doing, but I managed to get us moving. Donald said to keep us slow. There was no one around at all, so I didn’t get beeped once, which was a relief. Wouldn’t want to be holding people up.
    We drove into the village, and it was like something off the television. There were a few cars around, just left in the middle of the road. Some had their doors open and there were these, erm, trails leading off. I thought it was blood, but Donald said to not look and keep on driving.
    One of the cars we went by had a couple of people in. They looked like the gentleman that had attacked Donald; he stared at them as we drove past, and he looked angry, but also a little afraid. They were pawing at the glass like a puppy locked in a car on a hot day.
    That was silly of me too, wasn’t it?
    We finally got to the little shop. Well, it had a post office inside, too. Something for everyone. It looked quite dark inside, so I parked up, though I did stall the car whilst doing so. Donald didn’t even seem to notice. He was breathing