Rogue Evacuation

by Simon Neilson

  Bored, I tried to locate some bloggers on my wireless phone. It was the only thing that my phone was good for these days. Even though the guy at work managed to chip my phone he was unable to convert it to make or receive calls, another crackdown by the government.

  In this crazy world the internet seemed to reign supreme at the moment. I suppose just as it did before all hell broke loose. I know Gov_Block was still blogging from south of the river. I was intrigued to find out what is going on over there. I logged into the blog, I found it easily by his profile picture of a single black ‘X’ on a white background.

  His most recent entry was very disturbing.

  “The fires burn here in South London. People are being eaten. I have never seen anything like this in my life. It is a crazy world we live in and the infected are everywhere in this part of London.”

  People eating each other? What the hell is going on over there?

  I heard gunfire in the distance. I was unsure as to what was going on as I couldn’t see the end of the road from my bedsit. As the gunfire erupted I suddenly heard a small knocking sound.

  Looking outside as the rain streamed down I could see a dark figure crouching behind the wall. Drenched from the rain, the figure slowly gazed up and stared at me. Stepping back from the window I let the curtain drape down and then I heard the knocking again.

  Creeping downstairs I slowly opened the door. Just as it came ajar a figure burst through and slammed me against the wall. The figure ran upstairs and I could see it was a male, but for a moment I was paralysed with fear against the wall. After a few moments with my heart pounding inside my body I heard the security jeep doing its rounds, I slammed the door quickly.

  Tip-toeing up the stairs I reached my door just as the search light sprayed through the cracks of the main door downstairs.

  Walking into the bedsit I could see the man peering through the window. I felt too scared to walk into the room and then he removed the hood covering his head and spoke.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The accent? The voice? I recognised it. Scottish! It was Duncan!

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry about the IGS. They’ve been watching your bedsit all day.” Duncan’s voice was a whisper.

  Stepping into the room I gazed at Duncan as he turned slowly to face me.

  “Who the hell are you?” I asked.

  He moved away from the window and sat on the dirty chair and wiped the rain from his face.

  “I am fate my friend,” replied Duncan.

  What the hell did fate have to do with this? I thought.

  “If they find me with you, I’m a dead man,” I said sternly.

  “Thank you,” replied Duncan.

  “For what?” I asked giving him a puzzled look.

  “For helping me,”

  I let a smile slip and pulled the wooden chair over and sat down.

  “I’ve checked you out. Truck transportation. I feel I shouldn’t ask, but…” Duncan paused for a moment.

  I felt the tension building in the room and I was slightly anxious. Duncan shot me a look.

  “I need your help.” He gazed at me.

  I wasn’t sure what help Duncan wanted, or even if I was able to help.

  “They say you are the enemy of the Government,” I said quietly.

  Duncan stood up and gritted his teeth. I was waiting to get a barrel of abuse or a punch in the face, but neither came.

  “Your Government is the enemy of this nation.” Duncan’s accent became stronger.

  There was a tense silence as he stared towards the window and I gazed at his rain soaked back.

  “If you say so,” I replied.

  “Why did you help me?” Duncan asked softly.

  That was a very good question. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud rumble. Getting up from the wooden chair I walked over to the window, peeled the curtain back and looked outside. I saw the jeep come to a stop. A scared figure was running towards the alley that led into the park. That was when I heard the single shot. The figure fell to the ground. Two IGS officers dragged the lifeless body into the jeep and swiftly drove out of the cul-de-sac.

  “I suppose that’s why I helped you,” I said sadly. “I’m not sure how much further help I can be or even if I want to.”

  Duncan had been looking out of the window as well. He moved away and sat back down in the armchair. He eyed my phone on the table.

  “You follow renegade bloggers?” He asked.

  I glanced over to Duncan. He nodded at my phone and smiled. He obviously knew that this was the only use for my phone.

  “I might do,” I replied cautiously.

  “You’re curious about what is going on. Maybe scared of what is going on,” he said softly.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  It was a question I had asked myself many times, but this was the first time I had put it to another person. Duncan reached inside his pocket and handed me a newspaper cutting. The Daily Herald, the Government newspaper.

  The headline read “War Reaches The Capital”. As I read the report, it became very clear the Government blamed the bombing in South London solely on the Scottish. I looked up at Duncan.

  “All lies,” said Duncan. “Apart from the casualties, that bit is true.” Duncan looked sad. “Thousands dead, many more infected.” He looked lost as he spoke these words.

  “Infected with what?” I asked.

  Duncan shook his head.

  Getting up from the chair, he paced around the room then he gave me a long stare which made me feel very uncomfortable.

  “You load military trucks?” He asked.

  “I have no idea what goes in them, or where they go,” I replied nodding.

  Part of me was scared. Duncan could possibly be this evil wanted criminal as the IGS described. Part of me was curious as to how I could help him.

  “How easy would it be for you to escort a truck to a checkpoint leading into South London?” Duncan asked.

  “I don’t have that kind of movement clearance,” I replied.

  “But you do have a movement pass and a security permit to work at the depot?” He asked. “You still never fully explained why you helped me?” He continued.

  “I just felt it was the right thing to do.” I looked away. “And yes I have a movement pass and security permit.”

  “You see people being captured or shot every day. Why me?”

  “I don’t know!” I snapped. “Why don’t you just leave me alone?” My voice softened a little.

  Duncan walked away to the door of the bedsit, stopped momentarily and smiled at me.

  “I’ll be in touch. There’s a group of people you can help. They are trapped in South London. You can help them, like you helped me.”

  Duncan paused and stared at me for what seemed like ages.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Ever wanted to be a hero?”

  I stared at him for a moment and then shook my head. “No,” I replied.

  “Not even an unsuspecting one?” He asked.

  “I don’t have it in me,” I replied quietly. “I just want to go home.”

  The tears trickled down my cheeks as I spoke.

  “So do I, big man. So do I,” replied Duncan in a soft tone. He gave me a reassuring look. “Help me do this and I’ll do what I can to get you home.” His voice was calming and believable.

  Duncan walked out of the bedsit and clicked the door shut leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  My wife. My daughter.

  Within seconds my emotional tears turned into uncontrollable sobbing. I just wanted to go home.

  DIARY ENTRY 6

  It was a restless night as I thought about what Duncan had said that and the gunfire which crackled in the distance.

  I logged onto Gov_Block to see if there was any news of what was going on. This blogger explained how the army had been running snatch raids into South London to evacuate government off
icials trapped since the explosion. The blog also mentioned that the infection was spreading.

  What was this infection?

  There were descriptions of disease ridden people roaming the streets of South London, dead or dying being used for food. This helped spread the infection. Gov_Block went on to explain the only soldiers present were now either trapped or infected.

  The Anglo-Scottish war got little mention on the blog; it just concentrated on what was going on over the river. The only inclusion was the news of the fighting around Carlisle. Street battles between opposing forces, no side gaining a foot-hold was the description. Other than that, nobody seemed to know what was going on up north.

  With London on lockdown, no news was getting in or out of the capital. My thoughts returned to home. What if this was the situation all over the country? My family probably feared the worst, maybe they thought I was dead? But then…..were they alive? That particular thought filled me with a sickening terror.

  Duncan said he could help me get home. Who was he? Who were these people he wanted me to help? So many questions!

  Sub-consciously I had already made my decision. I needed to get home. I had no feelings or thoughts towards these people Duncan was trying to get out of South London, but if helping Duncan brought me closer to getting home then…..

  I interrupted my own thoughts and gazed around at the filth I currently called ‘home’. A grimy, damp bedsit in what was one of the most important cities in the world.

  There was another less important reason for wanting to help Duncan, my curiosity about what was going on over the river increased every day. I suppose that was why I read Gov_Block and felt compelled to witness the executions that occurred outside in the street.

  I want to know….I needed to know….

  DIARY ENTRY 7

  It had been a few days since I last saw Duncan. My boss at the depot had been watching me constantly. I wasn’t sure if he had been asked to watch me by the IGS or if he was just curious as to what I was doing.

  I loaded eight trucks. Normally I didn’t take much notice of the soldiers who arrived with the convoys, but today I listened to some of them as I stacked box after box onto the trucks.

  All the soldiers were young, teenagers I would say. A few of them talked about their horrific trips south of the river, others were heading out of the capital to the war, and not knowing what awaited them.

  Those who had been to South London were talking about the infected wandering the streets and how army snipers were despatched to “take them out” if they got too near the only bridge which was standing. By the sound of it there were thousands of infected. I loaded one of the last trucks bound for Carlisle when I noticed my boss was looking at me.

  I walked away as the truck drove out of the depot; I needed to clean up before leaving work. My boss slowly walked over to me.

  “I need to talk to you tomorrow,” whispered my boss and I gave him a puzzled look. “Don’t worry. With the increase in the truck movements, we need to put people on the trucks to help unload at the other end.”

  I stared at him for a moment, I didn’t want to guess but I had a fair idea what he was going to say.

  “And?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “It means you will be upgraded from a Movement Pass to a Security Access Pass.”

  He raised his hand as I opened my mouth to reply and then just walked away to the other side of the depot.

  Being upgraded to a Security Access Pass meant that not only would I be placed on the trucks, but I had access to most areas of London and would be a priority to get through any checkpoints around the capital. How did this happen?

  Wandering home I thought some more about what my boss had said. Had Duncan arranged for me to be on trucks? And if he was responsible for this, how did he manage to do it?

  I arrived home, a headache pounding where I had been thinking far too much. I positioned my chair near to the window, being curious can be very addictive. As I didn’t have the upgrade in my pass it was still too dangerous for me to be out on the streets after curfew.

  I checked my watch. It told me it was seven fifteen in the evening. I hadn’t seen any security vehicles. I could still hear gunfire in the distance, now and again an explosion which most probably came from south of the river as the horizon lit up briefly and then died down.

  Infected people?

  War?

  Curfews?

  What kind of life was this? What the hell was going on?

  I heard an engine and then slowly the security jeep came into view. The searchlight beamed up at every lodging on the cul-de-sac. I ducked down low below the window pane and peered out underneath the bottom of the curtain just as the beam passed by my window. The jeep stopped momentarily and then spun round to leave.

  Don’t ask me why, but I grabbed a pen and old piece of paper to write down the time. Then I waited.

  I had this thought and wondered if it would work. Sure enough, quarter past every hour a security jeep would arrive and then left after a few minutes.

  As the night went on the security officers on the jeeps went down from three to two on each patrol. I wonder why that was. I was unable to document the other patrols during the night as I drifted off to sleep. The next thing I knew my alarm clock was going off. Six o’clock in the morning.

  I didn’t have time to eat what little I had in the cupboard. I splashed some water round my face and stared into the mirror. My reflection showed a man who had aged, eyes which peered back appeared lost.

  Time for work.

  Time for me to receive my new pass.

  DIARY ENTRY 8

  There were an abundance of military vehicles at the depot and I got my pass upgraded so I was no longer a “loader”. I would be escorting trucks into South London, which I am not kidding you filled me which dread. Especially after all the things I had heard and read.

  Escorting the trucks was very new to me and I still had no information on who was responsible for upgrading my pass. My boss just said my papers had been stamped. I just know Duncan had something to do with this.

  I walked over to the truck that I would be escorting. The driver was wearing army combats and a gas mask. He looked pretty intimidating, fortunately I would be in the back of the truck so wouldn’t have much to do with him. My boss came lumbering across the yard as the last of the boxes got loaded onto the truck.

  “Why is it I am escorting trucks now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, you’re papers were stamped and ready to go.” My boss paused. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked quietly.

  My boss scratched his head uncomfortably as a soldier wandered by and then he looked at me.

  “First the IGS come here to talk to you about some fugitive, now you are authorised to escort military trucks.” He kept his voice low. “I don’t know what’s going on and frankly I don’t want to know what’s going on. Just watch your back.”

  Without waiting for a reply he just turned and then lumbered his way back across the yard to the office.

  I waited as truck after truck left the depot. I knew we were heading south of the river, but I just didn’t know the exact destination.

  Sitting on the step at the back of the truck I was just nodding off when I felt a sharp dig in my side. I looked up as the masked soldier pushed me again with his knee. For a moment I just stared up, the lens on his gas mask was tinted and I could see my reflection.

  He threw some papers at me and the pointed to the rear of the truck. I stared in at the wooden, sealed containers and was promptly jolted from my thoughts. The tip of the soldiers’ machine gun muzzle dug into my shoulder and once again he pointed to the back of the truck.

  I raised my hands to show I was offering no resistance and then climbed up into the truck. There was not much space but I managed to squeeze in between the containers.

  Within minutes the engine rumbled into life and the truck moved out of the depot.
I looked at the paper work. It showed that the sealed boxes contained medical supplies and food. I felt some relief that I wasn’t escorting weapons to the war front.

  As we left the depot, my boss looked on. I could see the concern on his face. The truck roared through the streets, it was just after curfew.

  The deserted streets presented an eerie sight. As we got closer to the make-shift military controlled bridge crossing the Thames, the realisation that I was going to South London hit me. All the bridges had now been destroyed, the one we approached used to be where London Bridge stood. I could see the destruction over the river already.

  The truck stopped short of the checkpoint just before the bridge. I poked my head out and looked across the river to the south. The devastation was horrifically breath-taking. Near the bank of the river on the south side I could just make out two figures stumbling around.

  Two shots filled the air.

  I saw the heads of the two figures rock back, blood and flesh spraying into the air. Shocked I scrambled back inside the truck.

  “Jesus!” I screamed.

  I could hear more gunfire from over the river. The truck slowly started to move forward before stopping at the checkpoint. Two soldiers ordered me down from the truck. One of them snatched the passes and paperwork from me whilst the other randomly checked the containers at the back. I turned to look at the soldier checking the containers.

  “Everything gets checked going over the river.” The soldier said sternly.

  I smiled politely.

  “Dunno what you’re bloody smiling at. First time over there?” He asked.

  I nodded to confirm that I hadn’t been to ‘Destruction Central’ before. Laughing he handed me back the papers. I jumped into the truck and took my position in amongst the containers. After a few moments there was a bang on the side of the canvas and the truck began to move off. Peering through the canvas on the side of the truck I saw the soldiers waving to the driver of my truck.

  We moved through the checkpoint and I could see heavy machine guns situated behind sand-bags, masked soldiers and lines of military vehicles. The truck turned and we headed across the bridge. I could no longer see the south side of the river. I could feel the nerves building up inside me.