Surviving the Fall: How England Died

by Stephen Cross

  The brick bounced off.

  She cursed and picked up the brick again, then moved close to the window. Shielding her eyes she hit the window with the brick; once, twice, then harder, and harder again, and then it smashed. Shards of glass bounced off the skin around her face and neck.

  She used the brick to remove the glass from the edge of the pane and started to climb through.

  A hand grabbed her on the shoulder. She turned round to look in the eyes of a young soldier.

  “What are you doing?” he said.

  “My boy, the boy I am looking after, he’s in here, I have to find him.”

  The soldier looked nervously behind him. He was a young man with a shaved head and acne. “You know what, fuck it. Do what you like.” He ran off towards the fence to join a group of other soldiers.

  Harriet pulled herself through the window and was in a medium sized dark room. It looked like some sort of classroom - she could make out desks in the darkness.

  She ran to the door and paused. How was she going to find Adam? Think, where would they go, why had he gone back in the building?

  She had to assume the man’s intentions were good, to keep Adam safe. So if he wanted to help Adam, wouldn’t he want to find her? There could only be one place he would go, back to the barracks, back to their room.

  She opened the door into a low lit corridor, the blasting volume of the siren again cutting up the air with its incessant wailing. The corridor was empty and long, with a number of doors along its length.

  Thinking back to their hasty evacuation from the barracks, they had exited the middle of the building. She had just entered the right wing, so if she headed left… seemed easy enough. Harriet set off running along the corridor.

  She reached a T-junction. A number of soldiers were down the far end of the corridor to her left, so she ran right.

  She heard a shout and the sound of running.

  She ran faster.

  She turned into a long corridor. The sounds of footsteps came closer and she realised she couldn’t reach the end of the corridor before the soldiers caught her. She tried the nearest door.

  Locked.

  She ran a few yards and tried the next.

  Locked.

  Panic fought through her adrenalin and she heard herself pleading under her breath, “open, open, open”.

  The next was also locked.

  She glanced at the corner of the corridor, still no soldiers, but their footsteps echoed loudly.

  She tried the next door. Her last chance.

  It opened.

  She burst into the room and slammed the door. She was in a small office containing a desk and wardrobe. She climbed into the wardrobe.

  Standing as still as she could, not daring to breathe, she listened for the soldiers. All she heard was her heartbeat - surely they could hear it too.

  Then the sound of several people running past the room.

  She paused for a moment, then got out of the wardrobe and opened the door to the corridor slowly. She peered down it to see three soldiers at the far end. She ran out of the room in the opposite direction.

  Turning a corridor she collided with a body coming the other way. Harriet fell back and held her breath, ready to fight, but relaxed when she saw an old woman in front of her.

  The old woman was wearing the white overalls of a cleaner, her face was pale with fear and her eyes wide open. She breathed fast and held her hand to her chest.

  “Where’s the barracks?” shouted Harriet.

  “What?”

  “The barracks?” Harriet grabbed the woman’s shoulders.

  The woman recoiled and pointed behind her - “Back that way, take your first left, then straight down that corridor.”

  “Thanks,” said Harriet. She bolted past the bemused old woman, her footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

  She followed the cleaner’s directions. Twice soldiers ran past her, but they ignored her. It seemed that some cared, and others didn’t. Or maybe the situation was just getting worse by the second.

  She reached the barracks.

  She opened the door and went in.

  The room was empty.

  Even though the siren was still blaring its incessant alarm, the room felt silent, and still. Her heart sank, and she dropped onto the nearest bunk. Where could she start looking for Adam now?

  Chapter 6

  Above the siren emerged a piercing scraping sound, the noise of metal against laminate flooring. Harriet looked up to see a moving bed in the far corner of the room. A large hand appeared from below and grabbed the top of the bed, pulling up the huge body of the man. Adam jumped up beside him, a wide smile on his face.

  “Harriet!”

  Harriet and Adam ran towards each other and hugged, Harriet again surprised at how strong her feelings were for Adam - how strong her relief, her warmth.

  “Sorry,” said the man, his voice low and sonorous. He was well over six foot, and maybe a few years older than Harriet. He wore a white t-shirt that clung to a well built upper body. His face was downcast, sad almost. “I tried to keep up with you, but I wasn’t able, not while keeping hold of Adam.”

  Harriet smiled. “It’s ok, thank you.”

  Adam said, “His name is Arthur.”

  Arthur nodded to Harriet.

  “Thanks, Arthur.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “I’m Harriet.”

  “Hello, Harriet.”

  Adam pulled on Harriet’s hand. “We need to go.”

  “Where to? There are soldiers every where. And zombies.”

  The siren stopped, and the air suddenly felt empty, Harriet’s ears searching for sound.

  Then the lights went out.

  “The power,” said Arthur.

  Adam squeezed Harriet’s hand. “I have a torch.” Adam rustled through his back pack.

  A click, and then the thin faint yellow beam of a low powered torch.

  The beam first shone at Harriet, then at Arthur, then at the door.

  “So where to?” said Harriet.

  “I saw a garage on the way in, maybe we can get a vehicle, ” said Arthur.

  “Where was it, can you remember?” said Harriet.

  “I think so.We need to go out the back of the building.”

  They set off into the maze of corridors, turning left and right, heading further into the heart of the base with no real idea where they were headed. Faint shots and distant screams where now the ambient sound. Every now and again Harriet felt her heart jump as a yell, or the rapport of gunfire, sounded too close for comfort. But they saw no-one. It seemed the building was empty.

  They reached a door that led outside. They stepped into the darkness and relative silence. Sounds of chaos echoed from the other side of the building, but seemed distant.

  A road led to the left and right, both directions to darkness - the floodlights had also died with the power outage.

  “I think I came in on this road,” said Arthur.

  “Which way do you think the garage is?” said Harriet

  Arthur paused and looked up and down the road. He shrugged. “Let’s try this way.” He beamed a large toothy grin.

  They turned right and ran down the road. To their left was a wide grass field, contained by a large fence, the glint of its metal just visible. The building’s of the base sat on their other side.

  They ran past a small alleyway. The sound of fast footsteps. A scream.

  A soldier ran out of the alleyway, his arm raised, a knife in his hand. He was upon Harriet as soon as she had seen him. The knife came down and she dodged to the left, tripping and falling as she did so.

  She landed on her injured arm and cried out in pain.

  Arthur body-checked the soldier, sending him flying. The soldier scrambled to get up, and Arthur swung his fist hard. It connected with the soldier’s face, a heavy crack sounded in the air as his nose splintered. The solider fell with a heavy thump, out cold.

  Harriet
got up and stared at the man on the floor. His face was smeared in blood. There was no visible cuts - it looked like he had smeared his entire face with blood himself.

  Harriet’s shoulder stung badly. She rubbed it.

  “What’s wrong with your shoulder?” said Arthur.

  Harriet shrugged. “It’s ok. I got shot.”

  Arthur smiled. “Tough lady.”

  “Come on,” said Adam, staring wildly around him, as if expecting another attack from any direction, any second.

  They continued down the road until they reached a turnoff to the left.

  “Down here, I think,” said Arthur.

  They headed down a tree lined and thin road for a few hundred feet. A low, wide, grey building emerged from the darkness, plain concrete walls and corrugated iron roof. A single small door was in the wall.

  Harriet got there first and put her hand on the door. “You think this is the garage?”

  “Try it…” said Arthur.

  Harriet turned the handle, it wasn’t locked. She opened the door.

  A dark room, its far walls not visible. Grey shapes lined the sides, maybe cabinets, tables, other furniture. Two large shapes in the darkness. What little light there was glinted of their metal bodies - vehicles of some sort, jeeps.

  Also, sounds. The shuffling of feet; bodies bumping into inanimate objects knocking them over, falling over them; moans; hisses; painful calls of despair.

  Zombies.

  It was impossible to tell how many, or where they were.

  The sounds were coming closer - it seemed they didn’t need light to find the living.

  Harriet fought the urge to run from the room. “This place is full of those things, can you hear them?” she whispered.

  Arthur turned to Adam. “Give me your torch.”

  Adam handed it to Arthur, who turned it on.

  “Are you sure we-” Harriet gasped.

  The light revealed a writhing mass of the living dead, their faces frozen in bloody and mindless desire. The moans of the zombies doubled.

  This time, Harriet did run from the room, dragging Adam with her. Arthur slammed the door behind them.

  “How many are in there?” she said.

  “Too many,” said Arthur. “We need another plan.”

  “But we need the vehicles, we have to get out of here.”

  Adam pulled on Harriet’s sleeve.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “We don’t have much time,” said Adam

  “What do you mean?”

  “All those people back at the base, there’s a good chance they are all going to be zombies soon,” said Adam, speaking quickly. “The soldiers don’t seem to be able to do anything. We have to get out of here or we will be surrounded.”

  Harriet felt fear at the boy’s words. She looked at Arthur. “We need those vehicles.”

  “We can’t kill all those things. We have no weapons,” said Arthur.

  The door banged causing all of them to jump. The zombies had reached the door and were no doubt piling against it, hearing and sensing the live flesh on the other side.

  “We’ll let them out,” said Harriet. “Lure them away.”

  “That would work,” said Arthur nodding thoughtfully. “If we can open the door round the front of the garage, one of us can…”

  “Act as bait,” said Harriet.

  The three looked at each other.

  “I’ll do it,” said Harriet, taking a deep breath.

  “No!” Adam grabbed hold of her leg.

  “The boy is right, I should do it,” said Arthur. “The boy needs you.”

  Harriet shook her head. “Nothing going’s to happen me, you’re talking as if it’s a suicide mission.”

  Arthur took Harriet’s arm and whispered to her, “He cannot lose anyone else. Please, let me do it.”

  Adam squeezed her leg, “I want to stay with you.”

  Looking at Adam, she knew Arthur was right.

  “Ok. I’ll stay with you Adam, Arthur can be the distraction.”

  Adam smiled.

  “So Arthur, you get the garage door open, lure them out,” said Harriet. “Me and Adam come in the back way, get one of those vehicles started and come find you?” said Harriet.

  “That sounds about good to me,” said Arthur.

  “What happens if we can’t get them started?”

  Arthur thought for a moment. “I’ll run in a circle through the woods for about five minutes. I’ll end up back here, you guys wait for me. If we have the jeep started, great, we go. If not, then we run, together.”

  “What do you think Adam?” said Harriet.

  “Ten four,” he said.

  Harriet smiled. “Ok, let’s do it.”

  The door rattled again, and the sound of moaning from the other side echoed into the night, chilling Harriet to the core. The sound of the dead should never be heard by the living.

  “I will be shouting to get them to follow me,” said Arthur, “you should hear me.”

  “Ok, be quick, and Arthur…”

  “Yes?”

  “Good luck.”

  The giant man smiled. “No problem.”

  Chapter 7

  Arthur disappeared round the side of the building, and a few moments later Harriet heard a distant clunk and a few bangs - Arthur opening the garage door.

  Silence, and then a loud shout broke into the night, the deep voice of Arthur booming through the woods and clear air.

  The effect was immediate. The back door stopped rattling and the moaning faded. Shuffling feet could be heard moving away from the door.

  Adam mouthed to Harriet, “It’s working,” and reached for the back door.

  Harriet placed her hand on his, “Wait a minute…”

  They stood in absolute silence, Harriet’s ear placed up against the door, listening.

  Arthur’s shouts faded.

  “Ok, now, let’s go,” said Harriet.

  She prised the door open slowly, peering into the dark through a small gap. She heard no movement, saw no shuffling shadows. No moaning. No hissing. No despair.

  “Pass me your torch.”

  Adam gave her the torch. She held her breath and switched it on, pointing it into the room.

  Nothing.

  She swept the beam around the room - no zombies.

  Two army jeeps sat in the middle of the garage. There was another door in the left wall.

  “Come on.”

  They walked carefully into the garage, taking the left side. Adam held on tightly to Harriet’s hand. Harriet swept the torch beam from left to right, her eyes primed for any movement, her ears sharp for any sound. The only sound was their footsteps against the concrete floor.

  The garage door was open, a gentle breeze blowing in. The road ahead was empty - Arthur must have led them into the woods. He would be back soon, hoped Harriet.

  Adam pulled on her hand.

  “What is it?”

  He pointed to the table that lined the wall next to them. She aimed the beam.

  “Weapons,” said Adam.

  Hammers, crowbars, knives.

  “Good spot.”

  She reached forward and took a crowbar. She passed a hammer to Adam.

  “You be ok with that?” said Harriet.

  Adam sighed and nodded his head, “Of course I will.”

  “Sorry, of course you will. Let’s checks these cars.”

  “Jeeps,” said Adam.

  “Ok, jeeps.”

  Each jeep was locked.

  “Great. Now what?” said Harriet.

  “It’s an army garage. The keys will be in here somewhere. What about in there?” Adam pointed to the closed door on the left of the garage.

  “Ok, stay behind me Adam.”

  She opened the door slowly. It led into a small dark room containing a desk and filing cabinet. She crept in.

  She moved the torch light around the room slowly. Before she had made a full sweep, the beam highlighted a pan
el on the wall, upon which hung a number of keys.

  “You’re a genius, Adam. How did you know?”

  “It’s army. My dad was army.”

  She reached down and kissed him on the forehead. “He’d be proud of you.”

  Harriet covered the few steps from the door to the panel and shone her light on the keys.

  “Adam, it looks like these are license plates. Can you read out the number on the- Adam!”

  Movement to her left, shuffling, a loud moan.

  Adam let out a cry.

  Harriet spun round and her torch light showed a body in army greens, darkened with blood stains, bearing down upon Adam, its arms outstretched.

  Adam fell.

  The zombie soldier hissed as it went for Adam.

  “No you fucking don’t.” Harriet raised her crowbar and brought it down hard on the back of the zombie’s skull.

  There was a horrifying, and at the same time satisfying, crack as the hard metal of the crowbar met the solid bone of the dead man’s skull.

  She brought up the crowbar and smashed it down once more.

  She felt liquid - blood - splatter over her skin. The crowbar sunk through the skull and into soft tissue below, like she had stuck her finger through an egg shell.

  Adam cried out.

  “Hold on Adam, hold on.”

  The zombie was motionless. Harriet grabbed it by the shoulders and pulled the dead weight off Adam with a struggle.

  She pulled up Adam and hugged him. “Are you ok? Did he bite you? Are you bit?”

  “No, he didn’t get me.”

  She held Adam at arms length and shone her torch over him. He had blood on his face. She felt a moment of panic. She wiped it away with her hand - no cuts, no bite underneath.

  “I’m ok, Harriet. It’s ok.”

  “Good.” Harriet realised she was shaking. Her fear wasn’t for her, but for Adam. “I should have checked the room, I’m sorry Adam.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get in the jeep before any more turn up.”

  “Good thinking.”

  She found the right key and put it in the door of the jeep.

  “Look,” said Adam.

  “What?”

  “The road.”

  Adam pointed out of the garage.

  Shapes. Lumbering shapes out of the darkness, slow but purposeful - heading for the garage. Groaning, the new sound of the night.