Surviving the Fall: How England Died

by Stephen Cross

  “How will we find him?

  “I don’t know,” said Harriet. “But we will.”

  An hour later they hitched up their back packs.

  “We need to bury these,” said Adam, pointing at the wrappers of the protein bars they had eaten. “We have to cover our tracks.”

  “Ok,” said Harriet, bending down to help Adam bury the plastic wrappers. She smiled as Adam earnestly dug in the ground. She had a rush of feeling for the boy, realising she meant every word of what she had said - she had to keep him safe.

  “So which way,” said Harriet after they finished with the wrappers.

  Adam took out the luminous compass from his pocket and studied it for a minute. “This way,” he said with confidence. “North west. My Dad’s army base is north of the M4. It’s this way.”

  “Yes sir,” said Harriet, saluting and smiling.

  Adam looked at her and shook his head, but she saw a small smile in the darkness.

  They walked in silence for a good while, the odd crack of branch underfoot punctuating the rustle of leaves on the wood floor.

  There were no lights in sight, which Harriet found comforting after what had happened at the motorway. She didn’t want to see people for a while. What would happen when they reached the military base, what would they do?

  But how else could they find Adam’s dad?

  “Why don’t you have any children?” said Adam, his surprise question making Harriet jump.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “Why not?” said Adam as he threaded through some low bushes that lay over their path.

  “I’m too young, and I haven’t found anyone I like enough yet.”

  “Ok.”

  They walked in silence for another five minutes, then Adam started his interrogation again. Harriet couldn’t help but smile.

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a recruitment agent.”

  Adam stopped and looked at her. “What’s that?”

  “I help people find jobs.”

  “Ah ok. Sounds boring. Jobs are boring, so finding them for other people must be even more boring.”

  Harriet laughed. “You know what, I think you might be right.”

  “Why do you do it then?”

  “It just sort of happened, I guess. I needed a job when I finished university, and that’s what I got.”

  “You’re one of the bovines.”

  “What do you mean?” said Harriet.

  “My Dad says that most people are bovines - they never think about what they want to do, and they just end up doing stuff that bores them. He says most civilians are bovines.”

  Harriet had no answer.

  “I bet you go out getting drunk every weekend.”

  “Well, yes, but that’s just having fun.”

  “Dad says bovines need to get drunk to forget how boring their lives are.”

  “Well, maybe your dad doesn’t know everything.” To her surprise, she felt a bit offended, or maybe she was annoyed because a ten year old seemed to have summed up her life.

  Adam stopped and held his hand up. Harriet froze. “What is it?” she whispered.

  “I heard something,” he said.

  There was a click and a powerful light shone from the darkness ahead of them. Harriet held her hands up to cover her eyes.

  “Halt! Put your hands up,” shouted a disembodied voice from the light.

  Harriet put he hands up, and glanced at Adam. She was glad to see he had his hands up too.

  “Who are you? Tell us your names.”

  “Adam.”

  “Harriet.”

  The light switched off and a few figures became visible in the darkness - soldiers.

  “Sorry, ma’am. We have to check you are not infected. The zeds can’t speak.”

  Harriet’s heart was beating fast against her chest. She moved forward slowly and put her hands protectively around Adam’s shoulders.

  “Zeds?” said Harriet.

  “Zombies.”

  “Told you…” whispered Adam to Harriet. Then to the solider he said, “We’re looking for my dad, he’s a solider.”

  The soldier at the front of the group, a tall man, crouched down in front of him. He lifted the intricate looking googles from his face and said, “Is he now? What’s his name?”

  “He’s a sergeant. Donald Allen.”

  The soldier glanced behind him at the other soldiers. “Ok, son, ma’am, you should come with us. It’s not safe out here.”

  “Do you know my dad?”

  “I’ve heard the name. You need to come back with us to our base.”

  Harriet squeezed Adam’s shoulder’s gently. “Let’s go Adam, they can help us.” He looked up at her, and she smiled at him and took his hand. “Come on.”

  They followed the soldiers into the darkness. Harriet felt her heart relax, her breathing slow down. Even given what had happened by the bridge, she felt safe - the need for order and authority outweighing her fears.

  They were to be taken to a military camp.

  They joined a troop carrier full of a rag tag collection of civilians in various stages of shock, distress and numbness.

  The only person who seemed excited was Adam. Harriet held him close as the truck rumbled through the woods and over dirt tracks, and she felt his heart thumping fast. The few glances she caught from him showed an excited face full of anticipation.

  “Do you think dad will be there to meet us?”

  “I don’t know, Adam. He might not be there, so lets just wait and see.”

  The truck stopped in a busy and very large courtyard. The tarpaulin was pulled back by two soldiers and a third soldier hustled them out onto the wet concrete. A grand four story building surrounded the courtyard on three sides, the fourth side being the entrance, a road lined with trucks leading out into the woods.

  Soldiers ran through the courtyard, the air rang with shouts and engines and boots sloshing through the puddles left by the recent downpour. Groups of civilians were being moved from trucks into buildings, into tents pitched in the courtyard, and into other trucks.

  Powerful floodlights sat high on metal struts, shining bright white beams across the throng of the courtyard.

  Harriet jumped as shots cracked in the air. Tall sentinel towers surrounded the base. A marksmen fired into the woods beyond the fence, most probably at approaching zeds. She took Adam’s hand and crouched down next to him.

  “Stay close to me, ok?”

  Adam, his eyes wide, looking around in fascination, nodded.

  “This way,” shouted a solider. He led them and the other people from their truck through a door into the large building. They were taken through a few corridors into a plain, empty, beige room with a solitary desk at the front. A smart looking young soldier sat at the desk.

  “Well done, you are the last lot we can take in. Our patrols are over, we’re full. I’m Lieutenant Byrd.” He stood up, his arms behind his back. “You should be quite safe here for now, as you can imagine. I understand the events of the last few days have probably been quite terrifying for most of you, and that you may have lost much.”

  His face glowed softly with a benevolent and sad smile.

  “You can be assured that this is the best place for you all now. Her Majesty’s finest are here to protect you.”

  Harriet squeezed Adam’s hand.

  “Where’s my dad?” he whispered to her.

  “Shhh. We’ll find out soon.”

  Lieutenant Byrd walked to the near side of the desk as three other men in uniform entered the room.

  “These men will take you to your rooms.”

  The group started to shuffle out after the soldiers. Harriet felt a hand on her shoulder, it was Byrd.

  “Ma’am. Would you and your son follow me please.”

  Harriet shook his head, “Oh, he’s not my son, he’s-”

  “That’s quite alright ma’am, this way.” He led her away from the group, through a
door on the other side of the room. They walked down a yellow painted corridor and stopped outside a door. Byrd opened it, motioning Harriet and Adam inside.

  The room was a medium sized office with a desk and a number of filing cabinets lining one of the grey walls. A large map of the UK covered the wall behind the desk.

  An attractive officer with short blond hair and sharp blue eyes sat behind the desk. He stood up as Harriet and Adam entered and reached his hand forward, which Harriet took, surprised at how flustered she was feeling.

  “Please, sit down.” He motioned to two chairs. Adam and Harriet sat on them.

  The man smiled at them and said, “I’m Lieutenant Dalby, very pleased to met you. I believe you are Harriet, and, Adam?” He smiled at Adam.

  “Do you know my dad?” he said.

  Dalby nodded. “That’s why we brought you here.”

  Adam’s face lit up, a beaming smile, “I told you,” he said to Harriet, “I told you he was here.”

  Looking at the happiness in Adam’s eyes, Harriet felt a warm glow again. She reached over and hugged him.

  As she held the boy, she turned to look at Dalby. Dalby was no longer smiling. He shook his head slowly.

  Harriet pulled herself away from Adam, feeling the colour drain from her face.

  “Adam,” said Dalby.

  “Are we going to see him?”

  Harriet held Adam’s hand tightly.

  “Adam,” Dalby paused. He leaned forward and spoke in a soft voice. “Yesterday morning, I was with your dad.”

  “Where is he now?” Adam looked from Harriet to Dalby, sensing the change in atmosphere in the room.

  “He was a very brave man, Adam, your dad.”

  “Can I see him?” said Adam, his voice quiet, pleading. Harriet felt tears well in her eyes.

  “He saved a lot of men. Without him, many brave soldiers would not be alive, but I’m sorry Adam. He didn’t make it himself.” Dalby shook his head, his brow furrowed with sadness.

  Silence sat on the room, heavy and numb.

  Adam stared at Dalby. “No,” he said, quietly. He turned to face Harriet, “He’s not right, is he? He’s lying, isn’t he? My dad can’t be dead.”

  Harriet felt a tear trickle down her cheek as she looked at the life drain from Adam’s eyes. She turned to Dalby. “Are you sure, his name is Sergeant Donald Allen, there’s no mistake?”

  Dalby shook his head slowly. “No mistake, I’m sorry. Sergeant Allen died yesterday afternoon in the execution of his duties. Such a brave man, Adam, a brave man.”

  Adam stared to shake. He rocked back and forward. Harriet grabbed onto him and held him tight. He pushed against her and yelled. He screamed, his mouth wide open, letting out long and mournful cries, the like of which should never be heard from a young boy. Harriet felt the pain, and wished she could take it from him.

  Chapter 5

  The night was long. They were put up in barracks with other refugees. She found it hard to accept that was what she was, a refugee, but what other word could she use? Her and Adam had no home, no place to go, no means to support themselves.

  Life as they knew it was gone.

  About thirty other people were sleeping in the room - a mix across all of society. The zombie apocalypse made no distinctions or judgements - all would suffer.

  Adam had somehow fallen asleep. Him and Harriet had small camp beds beside each other. Cheap blankets and thin mattresses, but what more could refugees expect? Harriet lay still in the dim light from the overhead lamps - turned down for night time, but not completely out. Probably so the two soldiers standing by the door, ‘for their own safety’, would be able to quickly dispatch of anyone displaying zombie tendencies.

  At least she was safe, thought Harriet. The last few days had been so non-stop, so base, so just-staying-alive, that she hadn’t had time to think beyond anything but getting her and Adam to somewhere safe.

  But what now?

  She tucked herself into the small bed and turned over, the light frame of the bed creaking as she shifted her weight. She tuned out the mumbles of conversation around her, the sobs that came from a few dark bunks, and tried to sleep.

  The hardest part to tune out was her own mind.

  She reached over and kissed Adam gently on the forehead, and rested her hand on his shoulder. How had she ended up looking after this boy, this orphan? Now her responsibility.

  She would have to step up.

  A shrill alarm broke her nightmares apart and Harriet sat up sharply. The lights were on full and the soldiers were shouting loudly, ordering the occupants of the barracks to get up and get dressed.

  “Are you ok Adam?”

  The boy sat up, dazed, his eyes red from his earlier crying, and nodded.

  “Good. We have to get dressed.”

  The siren continued to blare above all other noise, a shrill repeating klaxon that hurt Harriet’s ears.

  One of the soldiers had a hand on his ear and was talking quickly - must be some sort of in ear radio thought Harriet. The other solider was keeping an eye on the increasingly panicked members of the barracks, and kept glancing at his partner.

  Harriet helped Adam on with his top and handed him his rucksack.

  The soldier on the radio nodded to the other, who on receiving the subtle notification jumped into life.

  “Ok people, move now, we need to move, move, move!” His voice boomed above the siren and he motioned urgently with his gun.

  Everyone sprung into action, quickly scrambling over each other to get to the door and out. Harriet imagined this is what it felt like in a real fire evacuation, not the practice drills they used to repeat every month in her office. Now real, all order and consideration were forgotten, get me out.

  She grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled, “Come on, we have to be quick.”

  She ran forward and Adam tripped, catching his foot on the corner of the bed. She tried to turn against the tide of people to go back for him, but was pushed over herself. She fell down between two beds.

  A hand grabbed onto her and pulled her up. A tall, dark, wide man with a shaved head said in a strong African accent, “Are you ok?”

  She nodded, “Yes, but my boy,” she pointed back to the cots.

  The man nodded and pushed his way easily through the people to grab Adam. He hoisted him up and held him close to his chest.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Harriet followed the man out the door.

  Once outside, the noise of the sirens lessened, but the chaos increased; shouting, engines, gunshots, explosions.

  Harriet was pushed into a flow of people. She looked for Adam and saw him and the man now a few people behind her. The man’s eyes locked onto hers and he pushed forward, trying to reach her.

  A second stream of people joined from the left, and Harriet was buffeted amongst the throng, becoming disoriented in the panicked crowd. Within moments she lost sight of Adam and the man.

  “Adam!” she shouted. Her voice was immediately lost in the chaos.

  She shouted his name again, and again, trying to fight the flow and stay in one place, but being dragged in a predetermined direction, like in a river, like a fish being funnelled to the sea.

  Her only thought was to find Adam, and for that she needed to get out and above the crowd.

  She pushed her way sideways against the flow, and struggled to keep her footing as the now terrified people pushed against her. A man shoulder barged her, and in fury, she shoulder barged him back, pushing harder and faster. She squeezed past him and, with her new found boldness, began to make progress against the sea of panic.

  She reached a truck, and pulled herself up onto its roof. The frightened faces of the people glowed under the harsh glare of the floodlights. The crowd was being funnelled towards a group of waiting trucks by the fences of the base.

  A fire burnt in the third floor of the main building. A man, in flames, hung out one of the windows. He still moved, however, his arms swinging wild
ly. His flesh was black.

  At the edges of the crowd, soldiers fired at what she assumed were zeds. Their efforts were in vain, however - the zeds had infiltrated the crowd. A man grabbed a passing woman and sunk his teeth into her neck. People nearby screamed as they were bathed in blood, and a hasty space formed around the unfortunate woman. The man, his face and hands dripping with blood turned again to the crowd, looking for new flesh.

  Dragging her eyes away from the horror, she scanned the chaos.

  She saw Adam.

  The large man was free from the crowd, still holding Adam and running back towards the building. They disappeared into a doorway off the courtyard.

  “Adam!” she yelled uselessly against the wall of noise around her. She had to get in the building, but if she jumped back into the crowd she would be rushed away. There had to be another way.

  The truck she stood on was parked against a high concrete wall. She managed to pull herself up onto the wall. On the other side of the wall she saw a door into the building, about fifty yards away. More importantly, there was no crazed mob of people.

  A flake of concrete next to her chipped off and hit her on the leg, hard, stinging painfully. Then another. She was being shot at.

  She jumped off the wall onto the other side, and felt a warm burning on her shoulder as she jumped. She landed hard on the ground and let out a gasp of pain. She grabbed her shoulder trying to squeeze the pain away. It felt wet. She looked at her hand and it was covered in blood. I’ve been shot, she thought.

  She pulled her top back to asses the wound - A large graze on the top side of her arm. The bullet hadn’t penetrated, but skimmed off her flesh.

  A wave of nausea passed through her.

  Harriet pushed her fear to the back of her mind and ran towards the doorway. A number of soldiers ran past her, ignoring her.

  She reached the doorway, but it was locked shut. There was a window next to it. She quickly scanned around her and near the bottom of the wall sat a pile of bricks.

  She grabbed one and threw it at the nearest window.