I was almost too afraid to go any further, yet I was too afraid not to. I wanted my family back, more than anything at that moment in time. I didn’t want to be apart from them any longer. I wanted to be better. I wanted to hear my father’s voice again and listen to his ridiculous tall tales about his youth. I was prepared to do anything to make it happen.
And suddenly he was there, his slim frame silhouetted against the doorway to the kitchen. I recognised him almost at once, seemingly small and fragile but radiating an enormous energy and purpose that had driven him to be the success he was, in a country where he was still sometimes ridiculed.
I stood up tall as I faced the figure.
‘Lou Dou,’ I said, addressing him.
He didn’t answer.
‘Lou Dou?’
My father stepped forward and I could suddenly see the glazed and heedless face of the infected. A low moan emanated from him, rising to a pitch. Oh, shit. He had found food, and he was calling others to join him.
Anna Hasker
06:30 hours, Saturday 16th May, Heathrow Airport, London
We ran for what seemed like a mile and my lungs burned from the exertion. We could have slowed down, but I was terrified that aircraft was going to leave without us. Added to that, every time we passed a gate, there seemed to be more of those things joining the chase.
‘Keep going,’ I said to Mike. ‘It isn’t much further.’
My mobile started to vibrate in my pocket. It had been on silent for hours, ever since the situation at Heathrow had developed. Now it was buzzing with an urgency. I knew it would be Lucy. I hoped she was still there.
I pulled it from my pocket and pressed the green ‘answer call’ button.
‘Hello.’
‘Anna?’ It was Lucy’s voice. ‘Where are you? We can’t stay for much longer.’
‘We’re on our way,’ I said, gulping down air. ‘Are there any of those things at your gate?’
‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘But I can see a whole group of them approaching from Gate 14.’
I knew that the aircraft was at Gate 18. Lucy would be able to see in both directions. We were running towards her from the shops and other amenities. The group coming from Gate 14 had somehow found their way down there and were now walking back. They had likely been looking for victims and had presumably missed the aircraft, loaded with scores of frightened passengers. If one of them got on board. I shuddered at the thought. It would be the departure lounge all over again.
‘We’ll be with you in less than a minute,’ I said
I started to run faster. I was hurting, but the thought of being torn to pieces made the adrenalin kick in and pushed me on. Beside me, Mike silently acknowledged the increase in speed with his own.
Within a minute I could see the departure gate. Lucy was standing there, waiting. Behind her I could see the mass of bodies coming from the direction of Gate 14. There were hundreds of them.
Lucy saw me and waved at me to speed up again. I don’t know where it came from but we seemed to find another gear.
Unfortunately the crowd also noticed and they too seemed to speed up, covering ground much faster than I had seen before.
‘Nearly there,’ I said to Mike through gasps.
We covered the last few metres in an almost trance-like state. The leaders of the pack were almost there as we arrived and Mike swung at the first one with his briefcase, catching it on the side of the head and sending it spinning into another one. They fell into a heap and several others fell over them as their momentum carried them forward.
‘Run,’ said Lucy.
What the fuck did she think we had been doing?
We raced down the walkway, towards the aircraft door, the wails of the dead ringing out behind us. I had the most awful picture in my mind, of the door closing just as we arrived. I still get that dream today. Many people talk about the wails and howls, or the smell, or of shooting them and then seeing them rise. I never got those ones. That day, running for the plane, was the closest I had ever come to death and it stayed with me.
In the end we turned the last corner to see two male cabin crew manning the door. They urged us forward and the three of us dived through the door and landed in a heap. The two then shut the door behind us, just as the horde arrived around the corner.
The crowd slammed against the door, faces pressed against the window as they clamoured to get inside. On board there were shouts and screams. Many were crying and clutching one another in fright. There were far more people than there should have been on board. Many didn’t have anywhere to sit.
‘Glad to have you on board Anna,’ called the Captain through the open cockpit door. It was Adam Smith. I knew him well. We had flown together a few times and he was a first class pilot.
‘Thanks for waiting,’ I replied and gave him the thumbs up.
He reversed back from the gate. I went to the window and looked out. There were hundreds of them falling from the walkway, onto the tarmac below. It was a fall that could have killed or seriously injured any normal person, but these people were getting right back up again.
The runway wasn’t much better. There were hundreds out there now, wandering around the grass and on the tarmac, causing a hazard. There was no air traffic control any more either. No maintenance crew to check the aircraft before take-off. But we had no other choice but to go for it.
We taxied to the edge of the airport and stopped.
‘The Captain is waiting for one more passenger,’ said Lucy, seeing my surprised look. ‘His wife.’
I knew Adam’s wife, Sarah. She was also cabin crew and they had met through work.
‘Where is she?’ I asked.
‘She was in Terminal Two,’ whispered Lucy. ‘It all started in there. We all know there’s very little chance that his wife could still be alive, but he’s determined to wait for her.’
‘We can’t stay here,’ I said. ‘They’ll surround us.’
‘I’ve told him already,’ said Lucy. ‘Give him time.’
We waited on the tarmac for hours, the infected crawling all over the aircraft. Some even managed to climb onto the wings. Eventually, with many of the passengers beginning to freak out and with children crying, I had had enough and opened the cockpit door.
‘We have to take off,’ I said.
There was no answer.
‘Adam,’ I said. ‘We have to go now, there are hundreds of them out there and more are coming all the time.’
‘Just another ten minutes,’ he said.
‘We can’t wait for ten minutes,’ I said. ‘What if one of them gets pulled into an engine?’
‘I know you want to wait for her,’ said Lucy. ‘But she wouldn’t want you to risk the lives of everyone on board.’
Adam’s hand went up to cover his mouth. There was almost no chance that his wife could still be alive. We had to leave now, he knew it and he gathered himself together just in time to save us.
‘What about the runway?’ asked the co-pilot. ‘There are hundreds on it now.’
‘We’ll get around that ,’ said Adam.
He started the engines and slowly nudged his way through the mass of bodies, crushing many of them beneath the wheels as we went. Slowly we taxied along the outer edge of the airport, a gathering throng following us, waiting for an opportunity to attack.
When we got to the end of the runway and had led most of the infected with us, Adam did a last minute check of his instruments, visually inspected the sky for any rogue aircraft and then hit the thrusters.
I reckon we ran over at least a dozen of the stray mutants who were on the runway, but I didn’t feel it at all. To me it had been a textbook take-off and I was happy to be up in the sky once more.
Looking down you could see them. Thousands and thousands of the infected, all looking to the sky as we departed. I had never been so glad to leave Heathrow. The airport was a mess. Fires and structural damage all around. I saw one aircraft which had failed to stop and had crashed
straight through the building.
‘That was where it started,’ said Lucy, reading my thoughts. ‘We think there was someone infected on that plane and he or she attacked and infected the rest of the passengers and crew, causing the plane to crash into the building. Of course, when the rescue teams went in and opened the doors all the infected came charging out. It didn’t take long for it to take hold all over the airport.’
It was staggering to think that it had happened so fast. But at least we were safe now. I felt sorry for those who had been killed in the massacre at Heathrow, but all I really cared about now was living.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘Edinburgh,’ said Lucy. ‘It’s the only city in the UK with an airport that is still in working order.’
Anthony Ballanger
07:38 hours, Saturday 16th May, Windsor Castle, Windsor
What a day it had been. I had been awake since four the previous morning and had hardly stopped to draw breath in all that time. It was now more than twenty-four hours later and I was nearing the end of my stamina. The PM had told me to take time for something to eat at about ten the previous evening. I had walked out to a takeaway pizza place at the corner of a nearby street and had found that it was deathly quiet.
That the pizza place was still operating was a minor miracle in itself. The man who owned the shop, an Italian fellow, said he hadn’t had a customer since he opened. It didn’t surprise me and I advised him to shut up shop and go as far away as he could. Nothing good was going to come down his street any time soon.
He gave me my order and refused to take any payment for it. We thanked each other, me for the pizza and he for the advice and went our separate ways.
When I got back to Earl’s Court I was told we would be moving again. It was no longer safe there and some of the infected had been spotted just two blocks away. They were moving slower now, searching in all the nooks and crannies. The crowds of earlier in the day had thinned and dispersed and there were fewer targets. I hoped that our broadcasts were helping people to stay safe.
I hitched a ride with the PM and we drove out to Windsor. An agreement had been made that the government should seek refuge there in the meantime, along with the Royal Family and some other prominent members of society. On the way there we parted company with General Breck, who left to take personal command of the forces which were being deployed to retake the city.
I watched as huge columns of tanks and armoured vehicles drove past us. The faces of those young soldiers are still with me. Brave souls. Or were they just ignorant of what it was they went to face?
It took us most of the night to traverse the city. It was much worse than had been reported. Eventually, at about half past seven in the morning, just outside Eton, we happened upon a group of people who flagged us down. They were fleeing from the area around Slough. Apparently there had been a large outbreak there and thousands had been killed. The tales they told sounded so far-fetched, but we knew they were probably true.
When we arrived at the gates of Windsor we were given a thorough check. Nobody would be allowed to enter if it was suspected that they might be infected in any way. The guards and medical staff checked for bites in particular, but also the minutest of scratches were examined and questioned. In the end we were all allowed access and were shown to some rooms.
All I remember was feeling so exhausted that I could hardly think straight. Most of the staff went to bed. They would be needed again soon enough. The PM went to see the Queen, to give her an appraisal of the situation, especially about what was happening around Buckingham Palace. She told him she was pleased that some had found shelter there and gave permission for the guard there to do whatever was necessary to defend the palace.
So that was that. London was in tatters. Thousands, maybe tens of thousands dead and hundreds of thousands now infected and mutated with God only knew what. It wasn’t any better anywhere else. The reports from around the country were less than encouraging. The city centre of Bristol was one huge fire, while all contact with Cardiff had been lost over two hours before. The centres of Manchester and Birmingham were ghost towns and in Glasgow there had been a report of a huge battle between the infected and several thousand survivors, near to Ibrox Stadium. The result was the same as it had been elsewhere. Not even Glaswegians could fight this, I thought, as I drifted off.
Chapter Seven
Dr Richard Bryson
08:10 hours, Saturday 16th May, Central London
Taff had found the only solution to our situation. With the infected advancing on us from three side I had been sure that this was the end. I didn’t fancy trying to swim the Thames. I wasn’t a strong swimmer and I was sure I would drown before I got to the other side. Of course that would have been infinitely preferable to what was coming at us, however, and I followed him without question as he sprinted for a flight of steps.
Shaky and Tony were dropping them here and there, covering the rest of us as we went. Si dragged our prisoner behind him, stumbling as she tried to keep pace. Her instinct, if that’s what it could be called, was to kill him, but with her hands tied behind her back and Si’s noose around her neck, holding her at more than an arm’s length, it was proving to be an impossible task for her.
When I got to the steps I saw that Taff’s idea hadn’t been so crazy after all. There was a small boat tethered to a floating dock. It was the only one there but is was easily big enough for all of us and our captive.
‘Get on,’ he shouted, leaping on board.
I was next, followed by Si, who allowed his prisoner to catch up with him, sidestepped her in one fluid move as she lunged to bite him and then kicked her in the back, knocking her onto the deck. He was on top of her before she get back to her feet, restraining her with his boot on her throat, while the others followed us onto our ark.
The infected were teeming down the steps behind us as Taff untied the last of the ropes and pushed us away from the dock. They piled onto the floating pier and stood there, wailing and moaning in the unison of some hellish choir.
We still didn’t have any power and Taff went to the wheelhouse to see if he could start us up. There was no key and we began to float down river without any control. He searched around and found the box where the electrics were held and then smashed it open with his rifle. Inside were several wires.
‘You’re going to hotwire it?’ I asked.
‘Got a better idea?’
I didn’t. I had never seen a boat hotwired before. Come to think of it I had never seen a car hotwired either. But it worked. Taff fiddled with a few of the wires before he found two that started the vessel when he sparked them together. It wasn’t a moment too soon.
As I went back out onto the deck I could see that we had drifted perilously close to the bank again. It was lined with thousands of infected, but I noticed something that hadn’t occurred to me before. They weren’t jumping into the water to get to us. They stayed on the bank and continued to moan and howl, but they came no further.
Shaky and Tony were seated, while Si had managed to allow his captive to get back to her feet and was holding her against one of the bulkheads. As Taff got the vessel moving and we began to make some progress up river, I suddenly noticed something else. The woman Tony had shot in the head earlier, as we had retreated to the floating pier, was still lying on the ground. She hadn’t got back up again. Others, who had been hit in the chest and other parts of their bodies, were walking around like it was a quiet evening stroll. But she stayed motionless.
‘Shoot one of them,’ I said to Tony.
He looked at me like I was nuts.
‘There’s no point,’ he said. ‘They just get back up again.’
‘Please,’ I said. I looked up at the moaning crowd of infected souls and saw a man who looked like he would have been in his seventies.
‘That one there,’ I said. ‘Aim for the heart.’
Tony looked at Shaky, who shrugged his shoulders. Then he stood up an
d brought his rifle to his shoulder.
‘In the heart?’ he asked.
‘If you can.’
He gave me another ‘what do you mean if I can?’ look and then reselected his target. He fired once. The round hit the old guy square in the chest and he fell back.
‘That’s a kill shot if ever there was one,’ said Tony.
We watched for a moment and sure enough the old guy got straight back up to his feet again. Christ that gave me the shivers. It still does. To watch someone, who should be dead, take a bullet right in the centre of the chest and then stand up again? It’s unnerving and it’s the reason the army had such a tough time of it in their early engagements. How do you fight an enemy that won’t die? Can’t die.
‘Aim for the head,’ I said.
Tony looked at me again. I pointed to a younger one this time. Another man, aged in his twenties or thirties.
‘That one there. Shoot him in the middle of his forehead.’
Tony took aim again and a second later pulled the trigger. His aim was as good as it had been the first time. It was a marvel to watch actually. We were on a boat, travelling against the current, and he was still able to make shots like that.
The round hit the man in the centre of his forehead and he dropped like a stone to the ground. We watched. I counted the seconds. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds went by. We all knew he would have been back on his feet by about the ten or fifteen second mark, but he didn’t get up. I counted to a minute and then turned to Tony.
‘That one is dead,’ I said simply.
He gaped at me.
‘How did you know?’
I didn’t know. That was the problem and it was eating me up. How did the infected survive a bullet to the heart when one to the brain stopped them dead?
‘The woman on the street up there,’ I pointed to the steps. ‘I noticed you hit her in the head and she didn’t rise again. All the others managed to get back up.’
The Z Infection Page 11