Rogue Evacuation

by Simon Neilson

  Her name was Beth and judging by her date of birth it shows her age as eighteen.

  DIARY ENTRY 64

  26th December – evening

  Surprisingly we had encountered very little of the infected, those stragglers we had seen we just skirted round. We did not want to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves.

  Luckily for us Beth did not live right in the city centre, I am guessing that’s where the mass of Leeds infected were, shuffling around. Beth lived just on the outskirts of Leeds, in a tower block on the edge of a housing estate.

  I stood outside the tower block, with Lizzie, Jackson and Lance on one side and the rest standing some way back behind as the cold wind swirled around us. Lance had found an old council cleaning depot a few yards away. That was where they used to keep the cleaning vehicles, so it appeared the perfect place to hide the truck.

  I noticed the intercom to the tower block had an array of numbers. I stared down at Beth’s address which told me she lived at number sixy-two, which, judging by the number display, was near the top of the tower block.

  “I can hear music,” Lizzie said.

  “What?” I replied.

  “So can I,” Jackson said stepping back to look up at the windows.

  “What kind of music is it?” Lance asked.

  “Does it matter?” I replied glancing at Lance with a sarcastic expression on my face.

  “Metallica,” replied Lizzie.

  “How do you know?” Jackson asked.

  “Our Lizzie is a metal-head,” replied Lane with a laugh.

  The three of them stopped talking and looked at me. they must have seen the disbelief on my face which probably said ‘we are standing in the open of a city we do not know, surrounded by infected and you lot are trying to decipher what music you can hear’.

  “Seriously?” I asked in dismay.

  “I was just saying,” Lizzie said sheepishly.

  I shook my head and pressed the buzzer waiting for a reply, but it never came. I tried this a few more times but still no answer on the intercom.

  “Perhaps the music is coming from her flat,” Jackson said and then realised from our stares this was a stupid thing to say.

  Before I had a chance to give Jackson a sarcastic reply Lance stepped forward and fired his weapon at the intercom. We all ducked and once he had stopped I gave him a disapproving look.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “We can’t stand here all day,” he replied nonchalantly and pulled at the security door which was now open.

  I was the last to enter the block and I shook my head at Lance who just smiled at me. If there were any infected in the area they surely knew fresh meat was on the menu now. The door shut and we stood in the hallway staring at the elevator. I pushed the button. Once it arrived and opened we could see it was slim and the smell coming from inside was overpowering.

  I was not sure how reliable the lift would be. Everyone else agreed that the last thing we wanted was to be stuck in the lift with no hope of being rescued. It did not take long for us to decide we were going to take the stairs.

  I found the stair climb pretty exhausting, especially with my heavy rucksack. Jackson was doing well. He had his rucksack, the radio and supplies and climbed the stairs as though he was carrying a feather-light pillow.

  We reached the required floor and I looked out across Leeds from a window. From the height we were you would think nothing was happening down below, how terribly wrong was that perception?

  Walking along the long corridor, water dripping down onto the floor combined with the musky air, I counted down the door numbers. Some of the doors were open. Jackson and Lance covered these on either side. The women, children and Bruno hung back, just in case. I could hear Amelia and Jesse saying how horrible this place was. Bruno whined as we crept through the puddles which had formed on the floor. I could hear the music down the corridor. Eventually we reached number sixty-two, the door was closed but the music was definitely coming from inside. Jackson and Lance stood either side of the door, stupidly I stood directly in front and knocked. Jackson grabbed my arm and pulled me to one side.

  I was quite pleased that Jackson pulled me away as two bullets pierced the soft wood and cracked into the concrete wall opposite. I heard Amelia scream and I crouched down on the wet floor. Two more shots splintered the door frame and the music inside stopped. For a moment I listened and I heard the scurry of footsteps inside.

  “I’m gonna kill her,” Jackson whispered.

  Without warning Lance barged through what was left of the door and went hurtling down the slim hallway. Jackson swore and followed him.

  I peered round the destroyed door frame and saw the small figure of a female appear from a side bedroom, machine gun in hand. Lance saw her as well. He rolled forward as she let off two more shots, which missed as she could not fully control the power of the weapon. The female did not see Jackson who used the butt of his rifle and smashed her across the back of the neck. She went crashing to the floor and the weapon bounced away from her grasp.

  Jackson stood over her, weapon pointed at her head. Lance stood up and did the same. I walked calmly down the hallway and noticed the blood dripping from her head, she was unconscious.

  “She’s just a girl,” I said to Jackson.

  “With a loaded fucking weapon,” Jackson replied angrily. He made a valid point.

  Lance and I picked her up and moved her body into the side bedroom she had initially appeared from. I shouted down the hallway that I needed medical equipment, which Joyce duly complied with.

  This young girl lay on the bed. She was small in stature, slim, wore black clothes and dark make-up. She had black boots on and wore silver jewellery around her body, especially in her nose and eyebrow. I think the term used to describe her was ‘goth’.

  Joyce tended to the young girl’s head injury, Lizzie cursed Jackson for being ‘heavy-handed’. Jackson had made a valid point, she was armed and at that particular moment posed a huge threat to us, even if she couldn’t control the weapon.

  I gazed around her living room and was amazed to see two television monitors, one showing the outside of the tower block, the other the outside of the door.

  “She knew we were coming,” Rebecca said.

  “Looks that way, the bitch,” Jackson replied.

  “Neanderthal!” Lizzie said sternly staring at Jackson.

  “Calm down, children. We’re all safe,” Lance said cutting them both off.

  I also noticed a desktop computer and a laptop both hooked up together with wires running up through the ceiling. The laptop showed a news page, the desktop showed what looked like a speech or voice synthesiser.

  Joyce appeared, she told us the girl would be fine but would just suffer from a massive headache once she woke up. She had given her some liquid painkillers and cleaned up the wound. We decided that this tower block would be home for the night, whilst taking it in turns to guard the girl.

  “What is all this?” Rebecca asked looking at the computers.

  Now that was a good question.

  DIARY ENTRY

  27th December – morning

  Beth, or Bethany to use her full name, had been holed up in this tower block, sixty-two being her home address, since the evacuations began.

  A university student she was not only a heavy metal fan, but a bright computer and electronics genius. This would explain the computers and monitors set up in the living room.

  Beth had lived with her mother and father before this nightmare began. Like any typical ‘goth teenager’, her words not mine, she met disapproval from her father and sympathy from her mother. She enjoyed to go to local music gigs with her equally ‘goth friends’, again her words and in between studying she liked to indulge in forums and websites talking initially about the war between England and Scotland, but then discussing, what was at the time, conspiracy theories on the infection.

  The CCTV monitors were
set up to keep an eye on any infected that might be near to her escape routes and also to watch for the army and then after they pulled out the IGS. Beth distrusted them immensely, which is why she reacted like she did when seeing us.

  This was Beth’s story, which she only explained after a scuffle in the bedroom where she woke.

  Jackson was on guard and had taken his eyes off Beth for a short moment. She took this opportunity to jump on his back, her long black painted finger nails tearing into the skin on his face. The combined noise and Jackson screaming alerted the rest of us to the problem.

  “Bitch, fucking bitch,” screamed Jackson as we rushed towards the bedroom.

  It was Joyce who managed to slap Beth extremely hard across the face causing her to fall back onto the bed. Lance and Jackson, who was bleeding from his wounds, pounced on her whilst she was still dazed and pinned her down. She was screaming and swearing at us until I shouted at the top of my voice.

  “We’re here to help you. You’re immune!”

  Those last two words brought us to the calm and civil conversation we had in the living room where Beth explained all.

  Jackson was having his scratches tended to by Joyce, who had taken on the role as our resident nurse. Lizzie found it quite entertaining that Jackson had been beaten up by a girl. Beth had done a ‘good job’ at scarring him, she commented.

  The rest of us sat and listened to Beth’s story. This young girl, who was tough, feisty and could pack a punch, spoke eloquently and had a soft and calming voice. Beth had not seen her parents since they went out to get supplies. She assumed that the inevitable had happened. It was as if she had shut out that particular life-changing event. Personally I thought she had shown her true emotions to us when we first arrived.

  It was obvious to me, once she told us of her distrust of the government, army and security forces, why she reacted like she did. Jackson wore army combats and Lance was still in his IGS uniform. Seeing us on the camera made Beth think we had come to take her to one of the camps. The women and children had held back, Beth had not seen them on the camera. She explained that if she had seen them on the camera she would not of reacted like she did.

  Strangely, she had seen only me pressing the intercom and believed I looked like a government official. I didn’t take that as a compliment.

  My next curious questioning concerned the equipment she had set up in the living room. Beth explained her interest and expertise in computers and technology. Some of what she told us went completely over my head, me being a technophobe, but Jackson’s interest was sparked when she spoke of the satellites.

  Apparently, Beth was able to hook her equipment up to an emergency generator in a power supply room located at the top of the building. Most people in the tower block had satellite dishes to watch television. She was able to use a couple of these dishes and somehow, don’t ask me how, use the satellites to keep up to date with what was going on.

  This was mainly government departments who were communicating with each other about what was going on. Beth was able to hack a few systems and found that apart from coastal area in the south, most towns and cities had been abandoned. Now Beth had my attention.

  All the major airports in the north had been destroyed, those south of Birmingham, with the exception of City Airport in London which was devastated when the bomb hit, were under the control of the security forces.

  That was the most information I had received in a long time. Although Beth did not admit to us she was, it became obvious to me she had had been a renegade blogger before the infection. I glanced at Lance, who was Gov_Block, this was just after Beth admitted to following this particular blog. Lance shook his head, he didn’t want her to know. In fact apart from that one time he told me, Lance never spoke about his blogging.

  Beth said the voice synthesiser set up on the desktop computer was to track radio conversations between different bases set up around the south of England.

  I curiously asked why everything was massing in the south around Brighton, our final destination on this rescue trip.

  It came as quite a shock, but according to radio traffic Beth had listened to, within the last month or so the security forces were moving all ‘survivors’ and ‘prisoners’ to the ports located on the south coast in what were coded as X-Camps. I saw Jackson’s face drop.

  “What are X-Camps?” I asked him.

  There was a silence in the room, not even Beth knew the origins of these camps. That was when Jackson spoke quietly.

  “Extermination Camps,” he replied.

  We sat for a while just staring at each other. Beth was the first to speak.

  “So that’s where they test people? I’ve heard them say this.”

  Jackson nodded. The security forces were trying to establish who was immune and who wasn’t, both ending in death sentences. I looked nervously at the floor. Beth wanted to know how I knew she was immune. I told her about the list but did not go into major details about Duncan or Maria.

  “So I can’t die if they bite me?” Beth asked.

  I shook my head but explained it would make her ill for a while. Joyce confirmed this through her own experience. It was at this point Beth discovered the truth about Amelia, Jesse and Rebecca. She looked at Lizzie who shook her head to signify she wasn’t immune.

  “I’m sorry,” Beth said.

  “Don’t be,” Lizzie replied with a smile.

  Lance had walked away from us and was using a pair of binoculars that Beth owned to look outside the window. He calmly asked me to come and have a look.

  Taking the binoculars I looked out to where Lance pointed, towards the city centre. The machine gun mounted jeep, four IGS guards and The Commander.

  “How the hell….?” I was gobsmacked.

  “What?” Jackson asked.

  “That IGS squad are here. How did they know we were here?” I asked.

  “No time for that let’s get out of here,” Rebecca said grabbing rucksacks.

  Beth grabbed a few items from the bedroom and threw them into a bag, including a current map showing where IGS scout patrols had been.

  Our next stop would be Liverpool and her name was Matilda.

  DIARY ENTRY 66

  27th December – afternoon

  Lance had checked the map and the M62 motorway was the direct route into Liverpool. Normal travelling time would be around one and a half hours, but we didn’t live in normal times and so this particular journey took around four hours.

  Beth, our new guest, seemed to get on well with Lizzie the most. They were around the same age and Beth was rather interested in the fact that Lizzie was Scottish and technically an enemy of the state. She failed to realise that we all fell into that particular category these days.

  On leaving Leeds we noticed the IGS patrol making tracks for our destination, so we left in quite a hurry. We had paused on a nearby hill and Jackson checked through the binoculars and saw the IGS entering the tower block. They appeared to know our itinerary and we were not going to hang around to let them beat us to our next destination.

  Liverpool was pretty quiet, eerily quiet to be honest. We made our way into the city centre and not one infected had been seen.

  Of all the roads and places to go, we were about three streets down from Anfield, the home of Liverpool Football Club. The prestigious home of one of the most famous clubs in English footballing history was now just a derelict, ruined shell. The gates which held their famous slogan was no more, a twisted pile of metal on the floor. I stared out at the destroyed stadium, like many of the properties in the area it had been bombed.

  “Liverpool got hit really bad during the aerial bombardment,” Jackson said quietly.

  “I never thought I would see this in my lifetime,” Rebecca said holding on to me.

  Her words echoed my thoughts, I never thought I would witness English cities devastated like this. Beth commented that Leeds looked as though it had escaped pretty well.

  Lance pulled into the road, t
erraced houses I observed, most of which looked untouched. Others crumbled showing that the bombs landed randomly. We stopped outside the address we needed and waited for a moment, scouring the area for any signs of the infected.

  I found it weird that this big city would be so quiet compared to the infected we encountered in London.

  “It’s too quiet,” Jackson said as though he could read my thoughts.

  “I know,” I replied.

  I looked around nervously, something didn’t seem right, but I just could not put my finger on it. Staring over at the house we needed I saw a curtain twitch and informed the rest of the group. Jackson got out the front and I jumped down from the back of the truck. We both had our weapons aimed towards the house and slowly the front door opened.

  Lowering my weapon I saw the elderly lady gingerly lower her leg down onto the pavement from the raised step. She smiled at us.

  “Oh you came back, thank you,” she said cheerily.

  I shot Jackson a glance and we moved slowly forward.

  “Matilda?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she paused. “Oh you’re not David,” she replied.

  “Who is David?” Jackson asked.

  “He’s my son, he promised to come back and get me but that was some time ago now,” she said still smiling and squinting in our direction.

  “Matilda, we’ve come to get you out of here,” I said.

  As I spoke I saw Matilda totter towards us, she was extremely frail and hunched over. I looked back at the rest of the group who had gathered around the truck. Rebecca looked at me with a sad look in her eyes. This elderly lady had been left all on her own.

  Joyce moved between Jackson and I, walking over to Matilda. She stood for a moment and touched her shoulder, Matilda gave her a big hug.

  “Are you David’s girlfriend?” Matilda asked innocently.

  “No, Matilda,” Joyce said smiling back.

  “Would you all like a cup of tea?” She asked.