They climbed over the backs of the seats, Abdul struggling to pull his large frame up and over.
From on top of the seats, Sarah could see the fight at the bottom of the carriage. Passengers where trying to get in from the adjoining carriage, but others in this one where fighting hard to keep them out. A standing battle; fists flew, kicks. A large man received a fist from a woman passenger trying to get into the carriage. He responded by banging her head against the open door, knocking her out cold. She was trampled under foot as more passengers lined up to try and fight their way through.
Another group of passengers had joined the man with the case trying to break the windows. They flung cases, kicks, fists and themselves at the windows.
Three men were running towards the driver’s cab, pushing people out of their way.
Some cowered in their seats, huddling together, terrified.
“Christ, what now?” said Sarah.
“We have to get out of here.” said Abdul. “We can open the train’s door. We have to get out, now.”
“Ok, let’s do it.”
They climbed over the seats to the front of the carriage.
Sarah shouted to the passengers, “This way, we need to get out, this way!”
Her voice was lost in the chaos, but a few people in the seats nearby heard and got up to join her and Abdul.
Alan emerged from the driver’s cab, ruffled, shaken. A group of passengers were in the cab.
“They just burst in,” said Alan. “trying to get the train started. I tried to tell them.”
“Don’t worry about it”, said Abdul quickly. “We are getting out of here.”
Abdul worked a key from his belt into the a slot by the door. He turned it and then pulled the door open, stiff without the hydraulics.
“Alan, you go first and help the people down.”
Alan nodded dropping the six feet or so into the dark tunnel. Abdul leaned through the doorway “Ok?”
“Ok,” shouted Alan in reply.
Sarah helped a two women, maybe mother and daughter, towards the door. “Wait for us outside.” They nodded and climbed out with Abdul’s help.
Then a man in his thirties. No one else paid any attention to them, too involved in their own little pockets of chaos.
“Ok,” said Abdul to Sarah, “your turn.”
Sarah moved to the doorway, but then stopped. The screams from the bottom of the carriage had taken on a new violence.
Two men at the doorway to the carriage were wrestling, but one of the men wasn’t fighting fair. He was impervious to blows. He didn’t stop, he didn’t fall. His mouth hung open, his face was covered in blood, with what appeared to be strings of flesh hanging from his jaw.
Zombie.
The man fighting it tried to backtrack, but was trapped against the weight of bodies behind him. He fell into the seats. The zombie let out a deep moan and dived.
Sarah turned to Abdul, “We have to move, now.”
Chapter 4
David stood behind the group of people trying to push their way forward into the next carriage. The door was only wide enough to allow one, maybe two people through at once.
As soon as the zombie chasing David announced its presence in the carriage with a loud moan, panic gripped the twenty odd people in the carriage. They scrambled for the door, pushing, hitting, kicking, shouting, screaming.
David saw a pair of legs on the floor, the body disappearing under a crowd of people. He saw a man grabbing another young man around the neck, shouting at the stranger, swearing, his face contorted in rage and fear. He saw the old woman from before pushed back against a table at an unnatural angle, her back bent out of shape, her mouth open wide, screaming, tears pouring down her face. The old man was nowhere to be seen.
David felt a second’s despair, then shook himself into action.
He glanced behind him. The zombie was only about twenty feet away, it would be on him in a matter of seconds.
He quickly scanned the windows - about four seat bays ahead, to his right, next to the throng of passengers at the front of the carriage, he saw a red knob affixed to the top right corner of the window. There was a chance that could be his out.
He jumped into the bank of seats and climbed towards the window.
A hand grabbed his leg and tried to pull him back. He shook his leg free.
He passed the table where the old woman lay, he quelled the dark feeling in his stomach, the feeling that he was leaving her to die, and pushed on to the next seat bank. This was the one with the red knob on the window.
He had been right - it was an emergency window break. If he pulled it, it should shatter the window.
Something hit his jaw, and he fell towards the window. His vision spun in white stars for a millisecond. Pain throbbed through his jaw.
Someone had hit him.
He tried to reach for the red knob, but a hand grabbed his leg and pulled. The man doing the pulling snarled at David, “Where do you think you’re going, wait your turn!”
David kicked out with the other foot, and connected with the man’s jaw. This put the man off balance enough to give David the seconds he needed.
He hit hard against the red knob, and immediately the window shattered. A million spider web cracks spread through the window in an instant, accompanied by a satisfying crunch.
David elbowed the window, and the shards of glass fell like a sheet of crystal dust, leaving behind a perfectly empty hole in the side of the train.
A scream from the aisle.
The zombie had reached the passengers and had wasted no time in getting its bite of flesh. The neck of a teenage girl was pulled apart, the skin tearing with a hideous squelching ripping sound as flesh and muscle was pulled back to reveal tendon and bone. Blood spurted out at velocity, pumping from the torn arteries in the girl’s neck.
“Hey!” shouted David, “This way.”
A few heads turned in his direction. David jumped through the window.
The jump was at least ten feet high. He landed on the hard ground, jarring his legs. He stood up quickly and backed away from the window, looking up to see if anyone would follow.
Someone leaped through the window, landing hard on the compacted ground, moaning in pain.
Another person followed.
Satisfied others had found the escape route, David turned and ran the length of the train, guided only by the low light of the orange glow from the train’s windows. Carriages stretched far down the tunnel, their dark hulks hanging in the darkness like a line of sleeping whales.
The sound of regular thumps followed him. He glanced behind to see one person after another jump through the window. Screams also echoed past him, filtering out of the open window and bouncing through the tunnel, taking on a nightmarish quality.
David stopped running. He thought of the business man having his guts torn out. The young woman having her throat pulled open.
He feel onto his knees and held his head in his hands.
He yelled into the darkness of the tunnel.
A man ran past him, glancing at David, giving him a wide berth.
David stood up and looked back to the window, one dark shape after another leaped from the dull light of the train in to the promising darkness of the tunnel.
The image of the old woman, bent over backwards across the table flashed through his mind. The woman he had left lying there.
What can I do, he thought. I’ve done enough.
More people ran past him.
He joined them.
Chapter 5
Sarah and Abdul jumped out of the door, followed by Alan. The man in his thirties, and the mother and daughter were waiting for them.
The air of the tunnel was damp and cold. It hung on Sarah like a blanket. Oppressive, silent, like it was watching.
“Where now?” said the man in his thirties.
Sarah turned to Abdul, who turned to Alan.
Alan opened his mouth to speak, but was pushed forward
by a man jumping out of the carriage. The man looked at the group standing by the train, terror in his eyes, blood splattered across his face. He ran into the darkness.
Two more people jumped out of the train, and ran.
“Come on,” shouted Abdul, “let’s just get away from here.” He pointed up the tunnel.
Shouts and screams followed them as they ran. A sound that struck them still with dread reverberated through the empty black.
A moan, loud and deep, filled the tunnel.
Sarah looked behind her. Shuffling bodies fell out of the train onto the tracks.
“Where are the service tunnels Alan?” she said.
“They run parallel to the main tunnel, entrances every hundred yards or so.”
“They have doors?”
“Aye.”
“Sounds good,” said Sarah. “Let’s find the next one then.”
The sound of feet scraping against stone and earth echoed strongly down the tunnel. There was no telling how close they were.
“The service tunnels - what do they look like?” said Sarah.
Alan shrugged. “I’ve never been in one. A door, I imagine.”
Sarah used her phone to shine against the walls of the tunnel. The others did the same, walking quickly down the tunnel looking for the door.
As they walked, others ran past. Some slowed to see what Sarah’s group were doing, but they didn’t stay for long.
“Here it is,” said Alan, pointing his light at a small door in the tunnel wall.
He pulled the handle, it was open.
“Come on.” He motioned urgently.
The man in his thirties shone his phone light into the doorway. A small room was beyond containing a set of old drawers and a metal filing cabinet. A door was in the far wall.
“Ok, looks good,” he said.
They piled into the room, and closed the door behind them. Their phones danced around the walls, looking for a light switch. Sarah found one and flicked it. Dull yellow light filled the room.
No one spoke. They breathed deeply, allowing themselves time to rest. A feeling of safety, of escape, permeated the room and the group shared a few smiles, seeing each other properly for the first time.
“I’m Jason,” said the man in his thirties.
Sarah, Abdul and Alan introduced themselves. The two women were mother and daughter, Cynthia, the mother, and Mary, the daughter.
“So what now?” said Jason, “you guys got a plan?”
“Sort of,” said Sarah. “First, you need to know something.”
Sarah told them the reason the train had stopped - that their government had closed the borders, and they had been left, abandoned in the tunnels beneath the sea.
Jason looked shocked for a moment, Cynthia put her hand to her mouth, “My goodness. Are you sure?”
“Absolutely Miss,” said Alan, shaking his head. “Never would have thought it. The buggers.”
The group stood in silence for a moment, absorbing the news that their government had left them to die.
A scream from outside broke the silence. Everyone jumped.
“We need to get out of here,” said Sarah. She turned to Alan. “So does this door lead to the service tunnels?”
Alan nodded. “I guess so. And they should go all the way to the mainland.”
“Ok, so we walk back to England.”
“How far is it?” said Mary.
“From here,” said Alan, “about five miles. Not too bad.”
The group nodded in agreement. Not ideal, but better than being stuck on the train.
“Hold on a minute,” said Jason. “If the government have closed the borders, what’s to say they haven’t closed these service tunnels too?”
Alan shook his head, “I guess no reason. How would they close it though? Don't think they have big doors at either end.”
“There must be some way to shut the tunnels,” said Abdul. “I guess there would be some safeguards, security I suppose.”
“And if not,” said Sarah, “what’s to stop them putting a few soldiers with guns at the end.”
The last comment form Sarah struck a chord of doubt into the room. Their momentary relaxation and safety forgotten.
“We can guess all day long,” said Abdul. “I vote we just walk, and see what happens.” He half raised his hand.
The rest of the group did likewise.
“Good, let’s do it then,” said Sarah. She put her hand on the doorway leading from the small room. “Let’s stick together. Keep our mobile lights on.”
A huge bang shook around the room. Cynthia let out a small scream and grabbed her daughter.
Another bang - the door into the main tunnel shook. Someone was on the other side, pushing against it, rattling it, trying to get it open.
A muffle voice shouted from the other side, “Hey, let me in! Open the door, please!”
One, two, three kicks against the door.
“What do we do?” said Alan.
Chapter 6
David reached the front carriage of the train. A dull thud from above made him jump. He looked up to see a man banging his hands against the window.
A moan echoed throughout the tunnel. David turned behind him, looking into the darkness. The low light from the train windows cast distorted squares of yellow upon the floor of the tunnel, revealing dark earth and stone.
Three people emerged from the dark and ran past David, not giving him a second look.
He had to find a way out of the tunnel - it wouldn’t be long before more people were infected. Maybe that businessman had turned already. David had read there was no definite incubation period. Could be minutes, could be days.
David felt panic setting in. He turned and set off into a run. After a few steps he tripped, stepping on a loose rock. His foot caught under one of the sleepers. His momentum yanked his leg to a stop, and he twisted his ankle hard. Something tore.
It took a few seconds for the shock to pass and for the pain to take hold. A sharp, direct pain, stabbed into his ankle. He rammed the side of his forearm into his mouth to stop from yelling.
He grabbed his ankle and squeezed hard. His guess was that he had torn a tendon in the fall.
His foot hung limp.
Another moan sounded in the tunnel, the tall walls amplifying the sound into something primal, terrifying.
“Shit,” said David. He breathed deeply to dispel the panic pooling in the bottom of his stomach.
The sound of the moan died away, and was replaced by a sound even more terrifying - the shuffling of feet, and of earth moving under the uncertain steps of something not fully in control of its limbs.
Getting closer.
David peered into the shadows. There was movement a few carriages down. The nature of the light didn’t reveal anything more than movement, but David had no doubt what was coming.
“Shit,” he said again.
He pulled himself along the ground until he was by the train. He got on all fours, and cried out as the movement in his ankle caused a sharp jut of pain.
He used the train to give himself leverage and pulled himself up onto one leg. He grimaced.
If he could get through the next few minutes he should be good - he would get used to the pain. It was shock and blacking out that was his enemy now.
He breathed fast, forcing air in and out of his lungs.
The shuffling. Closer.
A figure was now visible, two carriages down, moving slowly towards him.
David hopped away from the approaching zombie, supporting himself against the train.
He reached the front of the train and hopped out into the powerful light beams; two dazzling eyes staring into the dark secrets of the tunnel.
There was a heavy thud from the other side of the train, like feet landing on crushed rocks and Earth. He guessed the carriage door had opened and people were jumping out.
David needed help - he might never get of this tunnel without it - especially if being hunted
by zombies.
He pulled himself forward, too fast. He banged his foot on the floor and a white hot pain seared through his body. He fell forward, flat on his face. His mouth hit the hard metal track and filled with fragments of broken teeth.
More pain.
He pulled himself forward.
“Hey, hey!” he shouted, spitting out blood and teeth.
No one paid any attention. A group ran past him, lighting the way with their phones.
Another dreadful moan filled the tunnel. Cold and deep. The sound reverberated into David’s very bones, into his soul even.
He glanced behind him, a shape appeared at the corner of the train.
Panic was now David’s friend - adrenalin shot into his body and numbed the pain in his leg. He pulled himself along the rocks and earth. He dug into the earth to get the grip needed, peeling back the nails on his hands as he did so.
The shuffling followed him, always there, always present.
David didn’t dare turn round - he couldn’t afford the milliseconds it would take.
It seemed he crawled along the floor forever. Minutes disappeared into a grey passing of time, where there was only one painful dig into the ground, followed by another. His ankle dragging in agony, his brain flooded with adrenaline. He fought to stay conscious.
And still the shuffling followed.
Up ahead a light appeared in the side wall of the tunnel. A dull orange spilled into the black, like a lighthouse. A door had been opened. A group of people disappeared into the door, then closed it behind them.
The light, so brief, so promising, disappeared.
“Hey! Help!” David croaked. He realised he was crying.
He pulled himself towards the door. He gasped for oxygen. Every cell of his body hurt. His fingers felt as if they had been clawed raw to the bone.
But he pulled. He didn’t stop, every movement of his arms against the earth kept him alive for another few seconds, bought him a few more feet.
And neither did the shuffling stop. It became more desperate, more certain.
Soon it was all he could hear.
The shuffling, nothing but the shuffling and its echo.
David reached the door.
Surviving the Fall: How England Died Page 20