by Oliver Smith
From the limited information Jack had found, he was certain that this disease was like nothing else that mankind had ever faced, it was so severe that the fabrics of humanity were being ripped apart.
He needed to contact his parents, but how? He had no phone, he couldn’t even think where the nearest public phone was, if indeed there was one, plus he had no desire to go outside, fear had him locked inside.
A light bulb in Jack’s head lit up, an idea. Skype, or course, he could buy some credit and call his family and friends to make sure they were okay. He was grateful Microsoft’s services were robust and the payment option was still available. Topped up with £20 credit, Jack proceeded to call his parents. No answer, but then it dawned on him, his parents were touring Scotland in their newly acquired camper van, enjoying their retirement. They usually got Wi-Fi in the campsites they stayed, so he left a video message explaining everything he’d seen and advised them to stay inside and keep away from anyone acting erratically.
Jack then thought he’d call his close friends, he only had a handful of real friends who were like family to him, he needed to check in on them. His heart sank, he couldn’t remember any of their phone numbers and unlike his parents, they weren’t on Skype. He was so reliant on his mobile and without it he simply had no recollection of the numbers he desperately wanted. His eyes filled up, he wanted to cry, but he took a deep breath, the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed to consume him.
He’d had enough. Jack lowered the screen of his laptop, stood up wearily and headed downstairs. He picked up a bottle of red wine, opened it, poured himself a large glass and went to take a seat in the kitchen. Exhausted.
Chapter 5 – A Lonely Soul
When someone suffers so much loss in their life, they begin to lose feeling. The everyday joy of life evaporates; most events feel mundane and unimportant. Even disaster and tragedy can be equated to mere trivialities.
This is how Jack had been living his life for the past five years. He was once a popular and outgoing person, enjoyed life and was actively involved in his immediate world. His life became infected with grief and this clouded his thoughts for every aspect of his personal and professional life.
Jack’s downward spiral into apathy first began when he lost his mother who had drank herself to death seven years earlier. She was a bitter and unhappy person. When she died, he hadn’t been close to her. His mother had left Jack and his dad when Jack was a child, she was a free spirit when his parents got together, and Jack had been an accident that didn’t fit in with her lifestyle. She tried to be maternal and strained for three years in an attempt to tame her inner demons and settle into a vanilla suburban routine, but as the strain increased so did the arguments and the loathing at an existence that wasn’t planned for. One morning, Jack’s mother upped and left without a word. Jack’s dad picked up the pieces and Jack had a good life with a loving father and a step-mum, that raised him as her own and whom Jack loved as any child would their biological mother, she was mum. Jack’s birth mother, who was not mum, did stay in his life, flitting in and out, but visits were sporadic and often left him feeling broken when she inevitably let him down. As the years went by, jealousy grew within the woman, whose life had spiralled without meaning, as she looked on at idyllic world that surrounded Jack. Choices in evil men increased her bitterness and the heightened acrimony also correlated with the frequency and quantity of alcohol she consumed. Eventually, she died from severe alcoholic hepatitis. They hadn’t spoken for two years prior to her death and it hit Jack hard. He was full of regret having not sought to be the bigger man and build bridges.
Jack suffered for over a year coming to terms with his mum’s death. He managed to get through it with the help of his wife, Amy, and their daughter Ruby. They were his rock, his life, his reason for being. He could put up with anything, hell; he’d spend most of his time selling his soul in a pointless job, just to provide for his family so he could enjoy what little time was left with his little trio; his world.
That world ended five years ago. Amy and Ruby were killed on a motorway during heavy fog. A large articulated lorry ploughed through the back of the car when the traffic had come to a standstill. They were both killed instantly.
Since that date, Jack had stopped living, he merely existed. He pushed friends and family away, it wasn’t anything drastic, just a lack of communication and effort from Jack. He’d subconsciously stopped letting people get close to him as his care for the world dissipated. Contempt for the world slowly built up. From the outside, he’d seem normal, his friends and family would speak with him, but he wouldn’t let them in, everything was small talk, never of any importance. He thought of suicide in the early days, but the fact that it was his job to keep the memory of Amy and Ruby alive, that dark thought vanished and instilled in him a will to survive; a determination that would prove useful.
Jack would go to work, interact and joke with colleagues, but each night he’d return to his empty home, eat, drink, watch TV or play on his X-Box. He’d do anything that would provide escapism from the reality of his losses. He didn’t drink excessively, but enough to numb himself. Each night he’d be alone, silently burying his head in the sand, being typically British, sidestepping the brutal reality of his life.
Contempt of humanity had also grown. Jack would find his blood pressure rising as he watched the actions of humanity from the outside. Whether trivial or important, people’s carelessness intensified his disdain. It was the one emotion that was a constant for him, the joy and enthusiasm for life had diminished, but he knew he was still alive through his exasperation at society. He’d become angry and bitter, just like his mother.
Jack didn’t want bad things to happen to people, in fact, he wanted the opposite. He wanted equality, peace, and a perfect world. His growing disapproval with humanity was at its ability to self-destruct, to be selfish and to make animals look like the civilised occupiers of planet Earth.
Rubbish that littered the streets that people carelessly tossed away, the material nature that made people crave the latest iPhone or the wilful neglect of the environment; Jack despaired at the short-sighted and self-centred attitude of the general public.
Anything would aggravate his mood, for example, at work on social media, he’d find himself looking at profiles where people had written bios stating their passion about digital marketing. Before he knew it, he’d spend half-an-hour wondering why anybody would be passionate about something so ridiculous. Be passionate about your family, the stars, science, the protection of the white rhino. Be passionate about the Great Barrier Reef, be passionate about eliminating poverty, curing cancer, finding a clean energy source to power the world. Just don’t be passionate about digital marketing.
The worship of celebrities seemed like a vacuous exercise, yet large portions of the population were enthralled by the lives of people like Kim Kardashian, YouTube celebrities and the constant conveyor belt of reality television stars. The Internet had provided anybody and everybody with the opportunity to get noticed, to go viral. Jack loathed it all, but in reality, he was no different, people were looking to escape their daily grinds just as much as Jack.
The state of the world and politics was a mess. Donald Trump was the President of the United States. He was racist, sexist, and homophobic, yet he still had plenty of support and he was still the most powerful man in the world. The UK had voted to leave Europe and with that xenophobia and racism had risen as the voices of experts were cast aside by lies and misinformation. Terrorism was an everyday occurrence. Children and the innocent were targeted by religious extremists. The western world had meddled in the Middle East for so long that the hatred of fundamentalists had intensified to levels which meant no reason could be applied to their will to disrupt and destroy. The world was a mess.
The environment was getting beyond repair too, the world was on the brink of another mass extinction, not of nature’s making, but mankind’s. Earth’s population was out of control, d
eveloping nations whose monstrous numbers were churning out more greenhouse gasses to add to those already released from over a century of the developed world abusing their supposed superiority. The ice caps were melting, climate change was happening, but was still being rejected by superpowers whose powerful corporate lobbyists were pulling the strings. It was all too little too late from mankind’s point of view.
The gravity of disappointment was all too much for Jack. Since Amy and Ruby had been taken away from him, he couldn’t see the good in the world anymore. He wouldn’t notice the old couple holding hands in the park or the innocent play of children; he’d be constantly bemused by the negatives. He’d often fantasise about inventing a disease that indiscriminately wiped out 80 percent of the worldwide population, leaving the rest to start again for the good of the Earth; for the long-term survival of humanity.
His macabre fantasy would help Jack. He would often drift off to sleep alone, halfway through a chapter of the latest dystopian novel, many of which would include the very same monsters that were roaming outside, risen from the dead, zombies. From the Zombie Survival Guide to Mira Grant, Jack had read just about every work of zombie fiction, if it could be called fiction in this day and age.
Apathy and bitterness were Jack’s weakness in the old world, he grumbled over problems and made no effort to provide a positive contribution. In the new world however, his escape into the world of zombie fiction would help Jack. It wasn’t the author’s depiction of the blood thirsty monsters that was of help, it was the fact that these books were written by smart people who detailed the likely reaction of survivors. It was important to Jack to stand on his own two feet and avoid the crowd and these books had given him a reference point to make educated plans for survival.
Chapter 6 – Planning
Jack woke about 5:30 the next morning. He opened his eyes, laying on his back, he was feeling relaxed. Then he remembered. This wasn’t an unfamiliar start to the day for him. It had been the same most days as he’d wake from a night’s sleep with the dreams of making love to Amy or playing with Ruby; listening as she giggled. Waking, feeling good and then the dawn of realisation crushing those sleepy hopes.
He spent the first half an hour of the day writing an email to his friends, James, Andrew, and Scott. They were his childhood friends and although they’d drifted apart, he still held their friendship close to his heart. He explained he wasn’t available by phone but could be reached via Skype and email, and for them to please get in touch to let him know they were safe. He knew they weren’t the type to be sat by their computer, but he had to try.
He then found himself looking for more news from Lucy. Sure enough, Lucy had posted another three videos. It wasn’t good news. The army were gone, but the dead weren’t. There were many more and the living on the street appeared to be gone. Manchester looked dead. Lucy, however, was alive and still composed, but appeared to be resigned to her impending fate. She put it simply, stay and die slowly from thirst, or run and be eaten. The options weren’t appealing.
The world was ending quickly. Jack had already been convinced that it was the end of civilisation as he’d drank his bottle of wine the previous evening, mulling over what he’d seen and learnt that day. He was surprised by the speed of the transformation depicted in Lucy’s videos. He knew that he couldn’t sit around and do nothing. Now was the time to make the most of the last remaining evidence of the digital age and come up with a plan so he could survive.
The first thoughts that Jack had were about his modern comforts, the electricity, water, gas and of course his link to news and fact finding, the Internet. This would all be gone, and it would be soon if the pandemic continued the way his gut told him it was going. How long would this take? He felt that he was on borrowed time. There was so much he didn’t know.
It seemed to Jack that electricity played a key role. Without this, the Internet would be lost, light extinguished, and water would dry up. He searched the Internet and there were many reports from people, with unsubstantiated qualifications, stating that the power supply would last a maximum of a week. Power plants were complex mechanisms that required scores of people to operate, Jack imagined that the personnel had their own safety and the welfare of their families on their minds rather than powering their nation.
He figured that the situation had become general panic two days previous, although this was guess work as he’d been cocooned for days in solitude with no links to the outside world. He’d liked being on his own only a day ago, but now when faced with the adversity of horror, he wanted to embrace the world and check on its wellbeing. The irony wasn’t lost on him, he had pushed away the living and vibrant parts of his life and now that all appeared bleak, he wanted to draw it close and revel in it once again.
Water was Jack’s main concern, further desk research explained that for the water to reach his taps, it required electricity to pump it from the treatment plants and of course the treatment plants needed people to operate them. Jack made a mental note to fill his bath and large containers full of water just in case it came to a war of attrition with thirst. This was probably a little bit of an overkill as the North West of England was a very wet climate and would undoubtedly supply all the water he needed, and then some.
Having determined that his utilities weren’t going to last very long and that the world outside him was changing rapidly, Jack began to think rationally about what his next steps were. He needed to find his Mum and Dad. They were away in Scotland. This comforted him as he knew that they wouldn’t be in a densely populated area and would more than likely be safe. For now, anyway. He was sure that they would have heard about what was happening on the news and figured that they’d probably do what was natural, to head for home. How long would that take? Probably longer than normal.
He also began to think about what other people would be doing. Those living in the more populated areas would either be locked away, eaten alive or attempting to flee. He figured that the last option would be something that many would attempt. This meant that the roads would be dangerously crowded, possibly impassable and could resemble scenes from Mad Max.
He knew his Mum and Dad weren’t stupid and that they’d look after each other. They were realists and knew their age and how to avoid trouble. Jack figured that it could take them weeks to make the journey back to Yorkshire from wherever they were in the Highlands. He knew he had to make the trip back to his childhood home and attempt to reunite with his family. His friends were also there so he came to an unexpected decision within an hour of careful thought. He was going home.
Having thought about the masses of people fleeing their home and workplaces, Jack decided not to rush the trip. He needed time to think, time to plan and time to learn. He was woefully underprepared and didn’t want to risk his life in haste. If he was truthful with himself, he was scared. So far, he had been rational. The loss he suffered over the last few years was acting as a barrier from the madness, his emotions were still blunt, but he could feel inside himself that they were coming alive.
He made another quick decision; he would leave for Yorkshire in a week. This would provide time for him to get his bearings and ensure he was ready for whatever awaited him.
He would need supplies, he would need more knowledge and he would need weapons and most of all, he would need to find it in himself to fight.
Chapter 7 – Face to Face
It was still only 8:30 and Jack had accomplished many of the tasks he’d set himself to prepare, as best he could, for the unknown wilderness that awaited him. He’d spent an hour looking for articles and instructions containing useful information, using nearly two cartridges printing out his very own survival handbook.
How to syphon petrol, how to hotwire a car, albeit old cars, how to administer first aid, how to start a fire without matches, lists of naturally growing plants, berries and mushrooms that were safe to eat; Jack was attempting to think of every eventuality. He printed vegetable growing tips for a variety of
crops and found out where the nearest hunting shops were, both in Yorkshire and his current location. He’d filled his bath full of water along with as many containers he could find.
He was pleased with what he’d managed to do in an hour and a half. Of course, he hadn’t absorbed any information, but that was part of his plan for the first week of survival, he’d learn while he waited the week before trekking across the Pennines, back to his family home.
Considering everything that was happening to the world, Jack was bounding around with a positive purpose and could be considered happy. To him, he had a goal, an objective and he was consumed with activity and wasn’t thinking about the reality of the situation. He hadn’t been this motivated in years; he was surprised as he caught himself whistling a Christmas song that had popped unseasonably into his head, even though it was Spring. To him the world hadn’t changed that much, his house was much the same and what he’d seen online didn’t really register as being tangible. It was only when he stopped and gave himself time to think that fear would creep in and he’d picture Lucy; alone in her flat, documenting the world falling apart.
Jack hadn’t stopped to get maudlin, but he was brought back down to earth after completing a stocktake of the fridge and pantry. He had enough perishable food for a couple of days, however the pantry was bare. He was going to have to sustain himself on tinned food and this was in short supply. He knew what this meant, going back outside and taking a trip back to the shop. Although he’d seen terrible things in the news and from eyewitness videos, his previous trip to the shop, the encounter with Bulldog and the sighting of that thing was what terrified him most.