“…The Bull Ring market area is flooded with jammed cars and rioters. The armed response units have been called in to try to stamp out the violence that is quickly spreading over into Solihull and Coventry…”
“It doesn’t seem to have come up this far, bach,” Gwyn said. “But Birmingham sounds like it’s going to be hard work to get past.”
“We should be okay, as long as it doesn’t spread out onto the motorways, Dad.”
They continued on the A42, and saw the next sign they needed – M1/Nottingham.
The radio station they had been listening to began to break up, eventually becoming nothing more than a nasty static. Gwyn merged onto the M42, and exited at the A4097/Kingsbury/A446 – soon they would be in Birmingham.
“Try and get something on the radio, Dafydd.”
Gwyn’s phone burst to life, making him jump. He picked up his mobile, and saw Sarah’s name and number scroll across the flashing, green screen. He flipped it open.
“Hello?”
“Gwyn, love, where are you?”
“We’ll be coming up on Birmingham shortly.”
“Try to avoid the place the best you can, love.”
“What’s going on there? We’ve heard a little bit on the news, like, but not much.”
“The place is in chaos. Not only that, but the government have ordered the release of the army.”
“Jesus, what is going on? How is it there with you? Is Toni okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. I’ve let her sleep. I just popped up to check on her before I rang you.”
“Okay, good. Have you looked outside at all?”
“Yeah, the street is deserted.”
“Have you barricaded the door?”
“Yes.”
“My gun is out in the shed; you know how to use it.”
“Where’s the key to the cabinet? I would have got the shotgun sooner, but I’m not sure where you keep the key.”
“It’s in my drawer by the side of the bed.”
“As soon as I hang-up, I’ll go and get it,” Sarah said.
“Good girl. I think Dafydd wants to speak to you.”
Gwyn handed the phone over to his son, and tried getting a radio station.
“Hiya, Mam. You both okay there?”
“Yeah, Dafydd, your sister and I are both fine. You just make sure you get home nice and safe.”
“…Scientist of germ warfare, Howell Davies, had this to say earlier.”
“Half, or maybe more, of the country’s population have become sick. Many avenues are being looked into, but swine flu does seem to be the culprit behind this breakout. We are advising people to stay at home, and not to let anyone in, not even people that you know and trust. This influenza is highly contagious, and can jump from human to human by a simple scratch or bite, or from infected fluid getting into your mouth, eyes or ears...”
Dafydd heard the report clearly over the phone.
“Are you there, Dafydd? Dafydd?!”
“Yeah, yes, I am. Sorry, I was listening to what was being said on the TV your end.”
“They think it’s swine flu,” Sarah said. “You know, I’ve not been feeling too well myself.”
“You’ve only had a case of the sniffles, Mam,” Dafydd said, trying not to let his mother worry.
“Yes, I know, you’re right. It was going around at work.”
“There you go then. No need to worry, is there?”
“You don’t think it started there, do you, Dafydd?”
“Where?”
“Where I work?”
“Don’t be silly, Mam, it’s an army barracks—”
“But they do have a research lab there?” Sarah said.
“You’re worrying over nothing now, Mam.”
“I love you, Dafydd,” she said, and hung up the phone.
Dafydd sat there with the phone to his ear, too numb with fear to close the phone.
“Everything okay, bach?” Gwyn asked.
“Yeah, Mam was just telling me how much she loves us both, and to make it home soon.” He didn’t have the heart to tell his father what his mother had really said.
*
They wouldn’t need to go through Birmingham, just skirt around it. As they got closer to the city on the M4, massive blazes could be seen rising from its core.
Lots of cars filled the opposite lane heading out of the city, but nothing seemed to be heading into the city. Gwyn didn’t slow down. He wasn’t going to stop for anyone. But as he started getting away from Birmingham, his lane started to fill with cars, trying to get away from Birmingham. This almost brought the lorry to a complete halt.
“Bloody hell, we’ll never get home if this lot don’t get moving,” Gwyn said.
“It looks like it could be like this all the way, Dad.”
Dafydd fiddled with the radio, trying to pick up something. He swept the needle the full length of the bands, AM, FM, Shortwave and Long, nothing.
“My God, if it wasn’t for all these people in their cars, the radio would suggest we were the last people on earth.”
“Maybe the power is just down, Dad?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Up ahead the cars came to a stop, as did Gwyn.
“No, no, damn it.”
“It’s okay, Dad. We’ll be fine.”
Gwyn tried Sarah, but couldn’t get an answer.
“Where the hell could she be, Dafydd?”
Dafydd looked over at his father, and wondered whether or not he should tell him what his mother had said.
“Maybe she’s with Toni,” he offered, knowing it was a poor excuse.
“But she would have taken her phone with her, surely, boy?”
“You know mam; she doesn’t remember to take her mobile everywhere. You know what she’s like, mun. How many times have you argued with her over it in the past?”
“Hmm, I guess. But you’d think she’d carry it about with her in this case?”
Gwyn flipped the phone apart again, and dialled his wife’s number, but still she didn’t pick up.
“Nothing?” Dafydd asked.
“No,” Gwyn replied. “Nothing.”
“Like I said, Dad, you know what she’s like…”
Gwyn’s phone rang; it was Sarah’s number. He picked it up.
“Hello, Sarah,” he demanded.
“Yes, it’s me, beaut, what’s wrong?”
“Duw, mun, Sarah, I thought something was wrong.”
“I was in the toilet I—”
“Why didn’t you have the phone with you? How many times—”
“There is no need to shout, Gwyn. I forgot it, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“It’s okay, I know.”
“Did you get the gun?”
“Yes.”
“Is Toni ok?”
“She is still sleeping.”
“Good.”
“Where are you both?” Sarah said.
“Stuck in Birmingham at the moment; the traffic is heavy.”
“Are you moving?”
“No.”
“How much longer will you be?”
“Once we get out of this, it shouldn’t take us more than an hour and a half.”
“That’s good. I’m missing you both.”
“Have you had any trouble there?” Gwyn asked.
“Erm, no, not really.”
“What, what is it? Tell me.”
“There was kicking at the door about thirty-minutes ago, but it went away.”
“Jesus, but nothing else?”
“No.”
“Have you tried calling people? Friends and family?”
“Yes, but I couldn’t get an answer with my dad, or your parents, sorry, Gwyn.”
“It’s ok, don’t be sorry. Keep trying. Try the neighbours, and our friends. Alert who you can.”
“Okay, okay, I will. I better go,” Sarah said. “The battery is dying on my phone, and I need to get it charged.”<
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“Okay, beaut. I’ll give you a ring later on, make sure you’re ok.”
“Okay, I love you, and tell Dafydd I love him too.”
“We love you and all. Bye,” Gwyn said, and the phone was hung up the other end.
“Did she tell you,” Dafydd asked?
“Hmm?”
The bottleneck of traffic was moving out of Birmingham slowly, and soon they would be at their next junction. Gwyn looked over at Dafydd.
“I guess she didn’t then,”
“Tell me what, bach?”
Dafydd breathed out loudly, and ran his fingers through his hair. How was he going to tell his father?
“Please, boy, tell me!”
“Mam thinks she might have this flu, Dad.”
“What?”
“She seems to think that she may have picked it up at the lab.”
“No, don’t be silly. It’s just a cold, nothing more.”
“Hmm, that’s what I told her. I wish I hadn’t said anything now.”
“It’s okay, you did the right thing, bach.”
“She actually sounded better on the phone just now, Dad, than she has done in the past few days.”
“You thought that too…”
Gwyn’s door suddenly flew open, and a girl jumped at him. A hand flew at Gwyn’s throat and began to choke the life out him. Dafydd shot back against his door and watched his father struggle with the youngster. He yelled.
“Dafyyyy….” Gwyn struggled out. “H…elp…under the seeeat….”
Dafydd sat frozen, staring at the child’s face, which looked to be ravished by boils and welts. Yellowy fluid ran down her brow, getting into her eyes and mouth, which she snarled back out. She tried biting Gwyn, but he managed to keep her back with one hand pressed against her chest.
A loud thump from behind Dafydd brought him out of his trance-like state. He turned around and looked out the window. There he could see another sick person, about his own age, dragging an aged woman from her car by the hair. The elderly woman screamed as Dafydd watched the youngster bite into her throat.
“Aarrrgh, fucking hell,” Dafydd shouted.
Gwyn managed to get the better of the girl – he rammed her head against the framework of the door, once, twice, three times, but still she clung on, even though her head was flowing with blood. She snapped her jaws and rattled her whole body, aching to be free. Dafydd reached under his seat and lifted his arm. He caught the girl full on in her mouth with a heavy wrench he’d found, cracking her jaw and busting some teeth. She slumped down, unconscious. Gwyn pulled her head back by her scruff, and threw her out through the door.
“Fuck! What the hell took you so long, boy?”
“Sorry, Dad…I…I…”
Gwyn put his hand on his son’s leg, “It’s okay. It’s okay, we just need to calm down. Lock your door.”
“I already have, Dad.”
“No sodding flu I know of would make people do this to one another,” Gwyn said.
“Maybe it’s that legionnaires disease that’s been on the news recently, Dad?”
“No way, boy. Look at these people.”
Dafydd thought he was going to piss himself at the sight outside. He whimpered and cowered away from his door.
“You’ll be fine with me, boy. Keep that wrench on you.”
All around them cars were being invaded by people spewing out of Birmingham city centre. Men, women and children were ripped from their seats and killed. Some were even killed inside their cars. The screaming was unbearable.
A large male managed to climb the piping hot grill on Gwyn’s lorry, slithering across the bonnet to the windshield, where he beat his fists on the glass.
“Shit, what are we going to do, Dad?”
“Our exit is not that far away, it’s just up ahead. I bet we could push our way up the middle of these cars.”
“Well we can’t stay here, for fuck’s sake.”
Gwyn put the lorry into gear, and steered right. The sound of crunching metal made Dafydd grit his teeth as his father bumped car after car out of their path. The thing on their bonnet lost its grip and fell under the wheels; his body caught in the rear tyres which caused him to be dragged along for a short while.
The lorry grumbled through everything in its path – taking doors and wing mirrors off cars and squashing the sick, and possibly some that weren’t; Gwyn had passed the point of caring. Dafydd covered his ears to try and block out the awful sounds.
Soon they were at their junction: 4A.Gwyn stayed on that road for the next ten minutes, before leaving again, and joining the M5, which was rather quiet. But for how long? Gwyn thought.
After another hour or so, Gwyn left the M5, taking the exit onto the M4. Twenty minutes after that they were on the outskirts of Newport, and in ten minutes they would be driving down their home street in Cardiff.
In between Newport and Cardiff Gwyn tried calling his wife, but she hadn’t answered. He’d also tried his parents, to no avail there either. Maybe Sarah had managed to contact them?
After five more attempts at trying to get in touch with Sarah, he started to panic, even though Dafydd tried playing the fact that his mother never took her phone places with her.
When Gwyn turned the truck onto King’s Avenue, where they lived, he was shocked to be stopped by a tank, and two army trucks blocking the entrance to the street. He stomped on the brakes and the grill to the lorry stopped just short of hitting one of the trucks. No military personnel could be seen.
One of the army jeep’s front lights was flashing, splashing the tank every so often with an eerie orange colour. Gwyn and Dafydd sat looking at the scene before them.
“Now what, Dad?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure.”
“You’re not going to be able to drive up there.”
Gwyn wound his window down and switched off the truck’s engine, which grumbled to a hissing stop. Over the cooling system’s noises, Gwyn could hear distant screams and shouts; crackling gunfire and explosions. His flesh itched as goose pimples invaded his skin. He wound the window back up.
“What’s the matter, Dad?”
“It sounds like a warzone out there, Dafydd, bach.”
“We have to get to mam, now.”
Gwyn nodded his head, picked up his phone, and tried his wife again. On the fourth ring, Sarah picked up.
“Gwyn, where are you?” she said, panic in her voice, which threw Gwyn.
“Err, erm…I’m at the end of the street, love.”
“Hurry, please…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Sarah? Are you there?” Gwyn said. “Hello.”
Only dead air hissed through Gwyn’s mobile. He tried ringing again, but only got an engaged tone.
“What’s wrong, Dad? Was mam Okay?”
“I…I…I don’t know. I didn’t get much…We better get up there.”
Dafydd went to get out of the truck, but was pulled back by his father.
“Wait.”
“What, mun, Dad?” he said, and scowled.
“Look under your seat. There should be a crowbar and a flashlight.”
Dafydd rummaged about under the passenger seat and came up with the objects. He kept the wrench he had used in Birmingham for himself, and gave the torch and crowbar to his father.
“Here,” he said.
“Thanks, bach. And don’t worry; we’ll get to mam and Toni.”
Dafydd looked at his father, and half-smiled.
“Right, when I get out, you follow me close, you hear, boy? I want you safe behind me. So get out of the truck my side.”
“Okay, Dad.”
Gwyn checked the wing mirrors, making sure nobody lurked behind them. He took another look in front, and to the side of his door, and found nothing. He took the keys out of the truck’s ignition, and got out slowly. Dafydd shuffled over the seat, and got out behind his dad.
“Let’s make this fast, Dafydd.”
The pair managed to sque
eze between the two haphazardly parked jeeps to get into their street. Nothing moved, but there was plenty of noise from neighbouring roads.
“This is bad.”
“It’s okay; we’ll be home soon, and safe,” Gwyn said.
They scanned their sides, keeping a look out for danger. The place seemed normal apart from the obvious. Gwyn quickly moved up the street to their house, with Dafydd in tow.
When they reached their house, Gwyn opened the little steel gate, and went up the path to the front door. He knocked lightly.
“Sarah, it’s us, Gwyn and Dafydd. Open up?”
Dafydd stood with his back to his father, making sure nobody was creeping up on them, but the street was quiet. It seemed that the violence had not yet spread this far.
“Come on, Sarah, open the bloody door, mun.” Gwyn thumped the door harder.
“Where in the hell has she got to now, mun?” Gwyn said.
The door flew open, and Sarah rushed to Gwyn, putting her arms around him in relief. He gave her a quick kiss, then bundled her and Dafydd inside. Once in, he bolted the door with the key which was already in the lock.
“I thought you said you’d barricaded the door, love?”
She flushed.
“Sarah?”
“Well, I was going to, but I couldn’t find anything to—”
“For God’s sake, woman, you could’ve been killed,” Gwyn said.
“Sorry, I just…I didn’t have the strength to move anything.”
“Are you still feeling sick, Mam?” Dafydd asked.
Sarah nodded.
“Ok, let’s get you to bed,” Gwyn said.
“No, I want to be with you two.”
“Where is Toni, Mam?”
“Still sleeping, love.”
“Okay, first thing’s first; get the kettle on, beaut,” Gwyn said, smiling.
“Okay,” Sarah said, and went out to the kitchen.
“She’s not looking too good, Dad.”
“I know, boy. Help me find something to put against the door.”
They went into the living room, which was rich with trinkets and photos lining the sideboard and mantelpiece.
“The sideboard,” Gwyn said.
Dafydd put the wrench down on the sofa and began clearing the wooden furniture of its clutter, ready to be lifted. Once finished, they carried the heavy sideboard out of the room and rammed it tight against the front door, rendering the door handle useless, as now it could not be pushed downwards.
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