To Carlos's dismay, the food ran out after two days.

"I can't imagine you surviving the human rationing during the Second World War," said Ross, tipping the last can of the thick, half-frozen baked beans upside down and licking the last drip of tomato sauce. She cast the tin aside. It bounced along the ground before tinkling to a halt. She looked much more dishevelled than two days of homelessness ought to effect. Her hair stuck out in odd angles with the ponytail a tangled mess at the nape of her neck. Even her sarcasm sounded half-hearted.

"I can't help it." Even though he'd just had half a can for breakfast, his stomach rumbled again. He groaned, rubbing his abdomen. The muscles churned. Acid bubbled, reminding him of the stark spaces needing to be filled. "I'll go and get some food this time. You can take a rest."

She snorted. "You won't make it."

"I'm pretty sure the nearby supermarkets still have some food, especially if all the humans are gone," he said, defensive. Plus, years of playing zombie apocalypse games taught him where all the good stuff were hidden and what kind of food lasted the longest.

"It's not the supplies I'm worried about."

His stomach dropped. "Demons?"

"Nothing like we'd ever seen before." She grimaced. Zipping up her coat, she jumped to her feet and eased her muscles. "Come on."

It was all Carlos could do to swallow the exclamation of shock when the arctic wind swept through him. The feeling left the skin on his face at once. He clutched his body, shivers tearing through every cell. Tears exploded from his eyes, freezing on his cheeks. For a fleeting moment his ears went deaf; he wasn't sure whether it was from the cold or the blast of wind that just assaulted them. His muscles seized. Pain seared from his knees up to his groin, and he became a statue.

Ross grabbed his elbow and steered him to the side of the bridge where they had a little shelter from the elements.

"Are we in Iceland or s-s-s-something?"

The entire train station had gone, buried beneath at least twenty feet of snow. All the colours of the city were reduced to grey and pale blue. The sun vanished behind thick snow clouds. A dense mist hung in the air. The roofs of cars peeped over the snow, the windows frosted.

"If anything goes wrong, we meet back in the shelter, okay?"

Carlos nodded, teeth chattering. He swore his core temperature had dropped by about ten degrees.

"Don't be heroes or do anything stupid. We're both good escapists; survival is the key at the moment."

She took him up the bank. His shoes sunk with each step. Trainers were never made for anything remotely wet, and soon the snow seeped into his socks, freezing his toes. Sensation left his lower limbs as swiftly as they had left his fingers and face. What he would give for a mug of hot chocolate and a steaming hot bath.

The streets stood empty. A delicate silence hovered in the air, decorated occasionally by the passing wind. Not a lifeform could be seen. Display windows of shops were cracked, the interiors dark. He could make out a half-eaten slice of cake in one of the patisseries. Cold cups of coffees huddled, alone, on the tables outside cafes, their contents glistening and solid.

He wiped with numb fingers the snot running down his nose and followed Ross as she marched on. She kept alert, head darting left and right with every step, her shoulders stiff as if expecting to be pounced on at any moment. He kept his ears out, too, although he wasn't sure what to look out for. The scene could easily come from a post-apocalyptic movie: desolation, emptiness, an eerie silence. All that was missing was—

Ross flung an arm out. Carlos bounced off it and nearly fell onto his butt. Before he could say anything, she'd yanked him to his feet and squeezed through the half-open door of an abandoned optician's. She knelt behind the pillar beside the door. Carlos mimicked her, eyes swivelling at the skyline through the sunglasses display rack.

"Holy crap," he whispered, his eyes going round and his frozen fingers forgotten.

At least four storeys tall, a pale blue giant ambled across the main street. Despite his size, his steps made only soft pats in the snow. Long white hair hung down his back, stiff, and the flesh between his chest receded like a rotting corpse. He was shaped like a human, but that was where the resemblance ended. Carlos could make out a pair of steel blue eyes above a wrinkled mouth like an old lady's and, as if sensing his stare, those eyes swivelled and turned to him.

He ducked his head. Ross's heavy breathing matched his own. He shivered – and it wasn't just from the cold.

"He saw us!" hissed Ross. "Come on!"

Carlos didn't need to be told twice. He sprinted after Ross, covering the length of the optician's in seconds. Ross rammed her shoulder against the fire exit, which he hadn't noticed from afar as the lights were all out. It didn't even shift a centimetre. Uttering an exasperated cry, she rammed again against the red wood – nothing. She turned, panic written all over her face.

"Must be the snow," said Carlos, his heart racing.

"We can't go back out the way we came!"

He spotted a half-opened door leading to stairs. "Try upstairs!"

Offices lined the length of the corridor, bathed in darkness. Carlos dived for the first window he saw. It was as he'd thought: the snow wasn't as thick as at the train station, but it still filled to at least a metre. No wonder the fire door wouldn't budge.

He yanked at the frame. It shuddered but didn't shift. Growling, he punched through it. Glass splintered, showering him. He winced, pain shooting up his arm. He swept the pieces aside, climbed on – avoiding the remaining shards – and swung out.

Ross followed suit. They landed with a thump not too far below and shot off without a backward glance, cold air turning their lungs into searing pits of fire. Carlos's feet sunk deeper into the snow with each step. The temperature made any sensation leave his toes long ago. The upside was that his hand no longer hurt.

"Is he still... following us?" he gasped. His toes stubbed on something – probably a kerb, he couldn't be sure – and he almost landed flat on his face. Regaining his balance, he hobbled on. This was worse than a brain freeze. Ross gave him a shove from behind.

"Let's... stay and... see, shall we?"

Where previously the height differences in the city allowed a cobbled road to run underneath the main street, everything was now drowned in white, highlighting the deathly emptiness of the city. Most of the streets were unrecognisable, the worn buildings painted in white, their landmarks obscured by layers of snow. Outside tables and chairs that decorated the outside of cafes were drowned. A few twists and turns later, Ross kicked at closed double doors. The canopy that used to overhang the front had collapsed under the weight of the snow. Frost glistened on the glass.

The door caved in on the fifth kick. Ross bashed the shards out of the way and crept in. She collapsed against the far wall with an exhausted sigh, rubbing her brows.

"What the heck was that?" Carlos copied her position, blowing into his fingers in an attempt to get those icicles to come alive again.

"I don't know! Goblin? Ogre? Giant? Twinkle-toes? Does it even matter?"

"They could be friendly."

"Oh, of course." Ross's old sardonic look returned. "What would you like me to do with your remains? Cast them to the sea?"

Carlos held up his hands, palms facing her. Perhaps it's a good time to shut up now, Carlos. Glancing up, he realised they were surrounded by numerous glass bottles lining wooden shelves all across the room. Most of them were black, with a cork top. Price tags decorated each one alongside the label. There was a distinct musty smell in the air.

"Um, Ross?"

When she gave no reply, he continued, eyes flicking all over the place.

"I don't think alcohol's going to sustain us in the long run."

She glared across at him, pushing herself up and then crossing her arms and legs.

"This isn't for sustenance, idiot. Why did you think I took you to a wine store instead of a supermarket?"

"So we can melt all the snow by setting the liquor on fire?" he offered. If nothing else, a warm fire would be great before his digits dropped off. On cue, the soles of his feet began to burn as circulation returned. His eyes watered.

Ross's lips twitched.

"No." She jerked her head upwards. "This isn't just any old wine store – it's wine, by the way, not liquor – it's one of the oldest ones in this city. It functioned as wine storage back when most of this was underground."

"So?" He wasn't in the mood for history lessons.

She gave him a pained look, her arms still wrapped about herself.

"So, there are passageways that lead straight up to the castle, where there will be kitchens, food stores, shelter. You know, the basic needs to sustain life?" She sighed and scraped the loose red strands from her face. Her cheeks remained bright pink. "Plus it gives us a good view of the city from there so we can assess how dire our situation is. It's not sustainable in the long run, but it buys us time before we decide what to do next, finding survivors and stuff."

On cue, Carlos's stomach rumbled. It reverberated down to his pelvis.

Remember to vote!