The crowd began to turn their backs on the military blockade in ones, twos, threes, then en masse, pushing past each other to return to their abandoned vehicles and possessions. ‘Maddy!’ Rashim was shouting at her. He jerked her arm. ‘The virus is in the clouds! In the rain! We have to get out of the rain!’ The press of people between them and the roadblock was beginning to thin out as those before them continued to stream past. She caught a glimpse of an old man who had collapsed to his knees on the road and was swaying groggily, like a closing-time drunkard. He was looking directly at her with red-rimmed eyes that began to leak dark bloody tears down on to his cheeks. For some reason his face creased with the slightest hint of an amused smile, as if something quaint, charming and odd had just occurred to him, then he flopped forward face down on to the tarmac. That’s how quickly the virus takes effect? If Rashim was right and the virus had made contact with that man from the first few drops of rain, then … how long ago had it started to spit?
