24

They all made themselves as comfortable as possible.

After watching the footage on the TV, everybody agreed that any kind of barricading would be pointless. If those things were out there and wanted to get in, they were sure that they'd get in regardless if the doors and windows were blocked or not.

Even the basement door was breakable, it was just well-hidden. It was situated in the kitchen and they hoped, and some prayed, that this was enough to keep them safe if any more of the Runners went in the guesthouse's direction and broke in.

"So what now?" Rhiannon asked.

Jack looked a little annoyed that people assumed he had all the answers; just because he was the obviously the leader of the group, didn't mean he knew what the fuck to do next.

"Just stay here till the morning." Christopher began scratching his huge belly; Angela's arm was hooked in his and her head was resting on his shoulder. She looked exhausted. "All the lights are off in the house, but if those things get in and we keep quiet, we should be okay. It didn't say on the news anything about their sense of smell; just that they can do what other humans can."

"I've told you," Ianto snapped. "The TV said that they are human, just infested."

"Whatever they are; staying in here is our best option." Jack then looked to James, who was still eager to get out of the Barrens. "You honestly think you'd make it home? The M6 will be grid-locked. You'd have to go on foot, and I can tell you now how that'll work out for you."

"Yeah, well." James sniffed and sat down on the floor where the rest of the group were sitting, almost in a circle, as if they were about to perform a séance. "I've got a family to get to. Anybody else?"

Christopher Horton lowered his head and breathed out. He held his wife's hand and nodded. "We have family. Thankfully living overseas."

That was all the information Christopher could reveal before breaking down. As he was being comforted by Angela, his wife, Joan felt that it was her turn to say something. She added, "I never had kids. I got divorced before the subject came up. I'm thirty-four so the boat hasn't sailed just yet."

Rhiannon tried to lighten the mood. "Maybe you'll squeeze one out in a few years."

"Maybe." Joan smiled, but there was sadness behind the smile as she looked down at little Micha. "That's if they can get this mess sorted out."

A silence enveloped the room and all that could be heard was the odd cough and the occasional clearing of a throat.

Stripy Steve spoke up. "I've got two daughters. Six and nine. They live with their mum back in Bristol. I still live there, but me and the missus are separated now. I came up here for a break, after losing my job."

"Why do they call you Stripy Steve anyway?" Gwen had asked the very same question that Ianto was going to ask next.

The man gave off an embarrassed grin and shrugged his shoulders. "It's really quite a crap story. About ten years ago, I was working in a factory and there were about four Steves in there. I always wore polo shirts with stripes so..."

He never finished his sentence, but he didn't need to.

James pulled out his phone and tutted.

"No battery life?" queried Joan.

"Nearly dead, and I can't get a signal anyway."

Christopher Horton chuckled, "The barrens aren't the best place to get a phone signal, especially when you're stuck in a basement."

"Leave it," Joan said. "The harder your phone works to get a signal, the more your battery will drain."

"The charger's in the room."

"We'll get it in the morning," Jack said with confidence. "Let's just focus on getting through the night."

Ianto welcomed the quiet that enveloped the group. The bickering he could do without, after the evening he had had. He thought back to his Nan's funeral, and was glad the remainder of his family were okay.

It seemed like days since it had all happened, but in truth, it had only been hours.

Jack suddenly announced that it would be advantageous if he turned off the basement light, in case something did come in and the small crack of light could be seen in the kitchen.

No one protested.

He suggested that people could use their phones for light, with what life they had left.

Christopher stood up, shotgun in hand, loose shells rattling in his pocket, and turned off the light.

Ianto was glad of the darkness and took up his position where he was going to spend the night and, hopefully, get a little sleep, if that at all was possible.

There was shuffling in the dark and he panicked for a moment before realizing it was Jack moving to sit behind him, against the wall and his arms enveloped him from behind, pulling him into a loose embrace.

His throat swelled so much that he found it almost difficult to breathe. Ianto tried to keep his sobbing down in volume, but was finding it difficult, and ended up letting go.

The sound of others sobbing around him was comforting somehow as he buried his face in Jack's chest, taking lungfuls of his scent.

For three minutes he cried, and once he was finished, Rhiannon asked if he was okay.

Ianto never answered. His swollen throat refused him the verbal access, but he did nod, which was pointless in the dark.

"I've got him" Jack said into the darkened room, "He's OK now."

Ianto closed his eyes and prayed for sleep.

The night was going to last forever.