We walked back through the tiny utility room and onto the roof. Then she took me to the far end, where a screen of wicker fencing obscured our view.
‘Close your eyes,’ she said.
I did as she asked and she took my hand and led me past the screen.
‘Open,’ she said.
I opened my eyes and could barely contain my surprise. There, behind the wicker screen, was a hot tub.
‘Does it work?’ I asked.
‘Let’s see,’ said Xiaofan.
She pressed a switch and hum began to emanate from the machine, followed by a roar of bubbles as they broke to the surface and danced there for our pleasure and amusement.
I didn’t say another word. I stripped off there and then and eased myself into the gloriously hot water, enjoying the feel of the bubbles as they caressed my back. Xiaofan joined me a few moments later, handing me a glass of champagne as she stepped in.
We sat there laughing like demented lunatics, as the stress of the last two days finally caught up with us and we sipped our drinks. It was surreal. If anyone else had seen us they would have thought we were mad, but for the first time since the world had gone to rat shit, we both felt like we were in control.
We stayed in that tub until we looked like prunes. Who knew when the power would cut out? That could have been our last hot bath ever and we were both determined to enjoy it to the full.
Anna Hasker
16:20 hours, Saturday 16th May, Loch Leven, Kinross-shire
When the infected had found us we ran as fast as we could. They stumbled through the smoke and wreckage of the aircraft, following us and moaning in that wearisome fashion. So many of the survivors of the crash were traumatised by what had just happened, that they found it difficult to pull themselves together and Mike and I had to cajole them along. One or two were completely unable to function and just stood there, waiting for the inevitable as the infected closed in on them.
‘Leave them,’ said Mike. ‘They’re no use to us now. We have to make sure we get away.’
It was cold-hearted assessment of the situation, but he was right. Leaving those ones behind probably saved the rest of us, buying us valuable time, as the infected fell on them and devoured them.
We carried on to the far end of the airfield. People became separated as some chose different directions as Mike and I arrived at the loch side. It was a large area of water, probably a few square miles in total and we followed the shore for a few hundred yards. We still had the young boy with us, completely numbed by his experiences, but still running alongside us.
‘There,’ said Mike, after we had been running for about ten minutes.
I looked up and saw an island. I had seen it already but it had looked quite far away. Now it was much closer, as a spit of land poked out into the water on its eastern side. It looked like it was a good size, with several clumps of trees near to the shore. But Mike wasn’t pointing at the island. He was pointing at a figure on it. I stopped and shielded my eyes from the sun to get a better look. It was a girl. Skinny. Only about seven or eight years old, standing on the shore. She was wearing a light summer dress and her hair hung in pigtails on either side of her head.
She was waving to us. Beckoning us to cross the narrow stretch of water to her. I looked at Mike.
‘What have we got to lose?’ he asked.
The answer was simple. Nothing.
I turned to the boy.
‘Can you swim?’
He nodded dumbly.
That was good enough for me. The infected, the ones who had passed by the feeding frenzy at the aircraft, were already after us. It wouldn’t be long before we became exhausted and they ran us down. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do on the island, but it was the best option in the short term.
We plunged into the water. It was cold and it took my breath away at first, but I was soon used to it. We waded out a few metres, until it became too deep and then started swimming. Mike was stronger than me and made the short journey much quicker. The young boy was second and I came a distant third, flopping onto the sandy beach in exhaustion.
I lay there for a long time, expecting to hear the familiar shouts of ‘run for your lives’ as the infected followed us across, but none came. Instead I opened my eyes to three faces, Mike, the boy from the aircraft and the little girl.
‘They don’t like the water,’ she said simply.
I squinted my eyes, puzzled.
‘She’s right,’ said Mike. ‘They don’t want to cross it.’
He pointed to where we had just swam from and I lifted myself onto one elbow to get a better look. On the shores of the loch a large group of the infected had gathered, moaning and baying at us. But they made no attempt to enter the water. Something held them back.
‘They won’t follow you,’ said the girl. ‘They’re scared of water.’
Whether they were scared of it or not, didn’t bother me. We would be secure on the island for now. We were trapped, that was a fact, but at least we were safe.
I dragged myself to my feet and took a look around. There was nothing there. A few trees, shrubs and bushes. That was about it. At the far end of the island I could see a structure. The girl could see me looking at it.
‘That’s an old building,’ she said. Then, as she saw more of the infected gathering on the shore she took my hand. ‘They won’t cross, but if they can see us they won’t go away,’ she said. ‘I hide in the trees usually.’
That seemed like a good idea and the four of us walked to the thickly wooded area which occupied the northern shore. Once we were in there we sat down. We were out of sight of the infected and that was a huge relief.
After about an hour things settled down. Mike went to take a look at the shoreline and came back with some good news.
‘They’re mostly gone,’ he said. ‘One or two stragglers still loitering around, but the main body has moved off.’
‘I told you,’ said the girl.
I suddenly realised I didn’t know our two new companions names.
‘What are you called?’ I asked the girl.
‘Beth,’ she said.
‘Are you here alone?’ I asked.
She nodded and her eyes filled with tears. I decided not to push it any further for the time being. Somebody must have brought her to the island, but where they were now was anybody’s guess.
‘What about you?’ I said, turning to the boy. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Ben,’ he said.
It was the first word I had heard him utter. It was progress.
Mike motioned for me to go with him so we could talk in private. We wandered off to a tree stump which offered a perfect seat for the two of us, leaving the two children to try to acquaint themselves with each other.
‘We can’t stay here,’ said Mike. ‘There’s no food. No shelter.’
I was tired and reluctant to leave.
‘At least it’s safe,’ I countered.
‘For how long?’ he said. ‘Those things won’t cross the water now, but what if they decide to try at some point? We’re sitting ducks here.’
‘What do you suggest?’ I asked. ‘We’re too weak to last long across there. We wouldn’t stand a chance if we ran into a big group of them. And we have two kids to look after now.’
He gave it some thought before he spoke again.
‘Okay, we can stay here tonight, but tomorrow we will have to move. We’ll need food and we need to find other people, otherwise we’re finished.’
Kim Taylor
16:25 hours, Saturday 16th May, Buckingham Palace, London
I was really scared when I had seen Barrie being killed. That was bad enough, but when I realised that the soldiers I was with were not going to be able to save me that was even worse.
All Callum could say was to run. So we had. Two of his men fired as we retreated. They were good shots and they took out a few of the infected, but every time a gun was discharged it meant that more of them heard it an
d came after us. It was a no win situation and we needed some alternative.
All I could see was the wall and the palace. Going over the wall was out of the question – there were still far more infected outside the palace than inside. If we broke into the building then we would create a way in for those things too and that would endanger everyone inside. But we couldn’t stay where we were.
‘We have to get inside,’ I said.
‘She’s right,’ said Callum to one of the soldiers. ‘We can’t stay out here. We’ll be overrun in minutes.’
More and more infected were coming around the corner of the building. The soldiers shot them down, one after another and still they came. For every one that fell, another three or four would appear. We were as far as we could go and running out of options.
‘The window?’ I said.
There was one last window on the ground floor. Without even replying to me, Callum grabbed a grenade from his fatigues and pulled the pin.
‘Grenade,’ he shouted as he tossed it at the window.
Everyone dived for cover and a second later I heard the thump of the explosive and the shattering of glass. The men were on their feet immediately, continuing their fire at the infected as they closed in.
‘Into the building,’ shouted Callum.
We ran to the broken window and squeezed through, past the splintered wooden frames and shards of glass. The rest of the soldiers followed and soon we were all inside a room which was filled with tables and chairs, all neatly stacked.
‘You three,’ said Callum to some of the soldiers. ‘Every person who comes through that window, shoot them. Try to create a plug.’
It was a brilliant idea. The first infected person took a bullet right in the forehead. He slumped to the floor, just inside the room. The second one was a woman and she suffered the same fate, only she fell onto a huge shard of razor sharp glass. More and more were killed and as the bodies piled up, the ones behind found it impossible to get past them. They howled and wailed as they tried to force a way through.
‘That won’t last forever,’ said Callum. ‘You four wait here and keep them at bay until I figure something out. I’ll take the girl back to the main part of the building.’
We ran back, along the corridor towards where we had left the rest of the civilians and the few remaining soldiers. When we arrived there we found the area empty. Everyone was gone. The one consolation, from what I could see, was that all the windows and doors were intact.
‘They must have taken to the upper floors,’ said Callum.
We found a flight of stairs, covered in a plush Axminster carpet and started to climb. We could still hear the odd shot as the soldiers we left behind kept up the defence at the window, but they were becoming more distant the higher up the building we went.
On the next level we had a look but couldn’t find anyone. The next level was the same. The place was deserted. It wasn’t until we reached the next floor that we found someone. It was one of the civilians and she almost died of fright when she saw us.
‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.
‘Upstairs,’ said the woman. ‘The footman told us you were dead. We came up here because some of the children were afraid of the noise.’
‘And nobody thought to post a guard,’ said Callum.
She shook her head. I felt sorry for her. It wasn’t her fault after all. Callum cursed. After all his efforts to try to keep people alive and defend the palace, it looked he had been undone by a footman who had lost his nerve.
‘Where is he?’ he snarled. ‘The footman?’
She shook her head. ‘He jumped.’
I didn’t understand what she meant at first.
‘Jumped where?’ I asked.
‘From one of the windows,’ she said. ‘He said he couldn’t take it any longer.’
Callum just grunted at the news and turned and headed back to the stairway.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked.
‘Back to my men,’ he said. ‘I’ve lost enough of them already.’
Anthony Ballanger
17:00 hours, Saturday 16th May, Windsor Castle HQ, Windsor
Once I had made my mind up there was no going back. I was determined that we would find some other way to defeat this new enemy, other than destroying our country and the rest of the planet at the same time.
The Prime Minister had retired to his rooms and was looking through some reports from several military figures. The Royal Navy were at Bournemouth, where thousands of refugees had congregated on the beaches, waiting to be rescued. The army were regrouping and were deploying resources to several areas, while the RAF was involved in reconnaissance missions as well as bombing swarms of the infected.
But it had been his blind acceptance of the American strategy, of nuking large population centres, which I was most worried about. This was madness. It had to be stopped.
So it was that I found myself standing outside the door to the private quarters of the Prince of Wales, along with a member of his personal staff. This was my trump card. A man who would see through the folly of this plan and help me put a stop to it.
‘This is highly irregular,’ said the staff member as we waited to be allowed entry.
‘These are unusual times,’ I replied. ‘We all have a part to play.’
The door was opened, moments later, by another member of the Prince’s staff. There was a brief conversation and we were allowed to enter. The rooms were impressive to say the least. My own room, which was close to the PM’s, was large and perfectly adequate, but this was something on a different scale.
There was a large hall, imposing reception rooms and, no doubt, equally impressive bedrooms leading from another side hallway. The décor was subtle but expensive looking, with large pictures hanging on the walls and solid pieces of furniture scattered around the place.
I won’t bore you with the details of our conversation. It’s enough for you to know that, once I had explained what was in the PM’s mind, the Prince set in motion a chain of events which would ensure that this could not happen. He was appalled that the Prime Minister could even consider such a course of action, no matter how precarious the situation should become, and he telephoned General Breck and summoned him to his suite immediately.
Quite simply I put forward my own thoughts, that the PM was suffering from a breakdown of some sort and was not mentally fit enough to make the decision to use the nuclear arsenal. The Prince of Wales agreed and, after consultation with the monarch and General Breck, it was decided to remove the PM from office. The reins of power would have to be taken by someone more suitable.
Following the meeting, General Breck and myself, accompanied by two Royal Marines, went to the Prime Minister’s suite and informed him of the decision. I then left him there, stunned by what had just happened and guarded round the clock.
He was not allowed to have any form of communication devices in his possession at any time, unless supervised by an authorised person. It had been a hard decision for me to take and I felt as if I had betrayed a man who had shown much faith in me. But I knew that it was the right one. It saved our country and millions of lives. When you look at what happened in the United States… It still sends a shiver down my spine.
It was about an hour later and I was looking through a news report, about how far the infected had now spread from the centre of London. It made frightening reading. Someone had worked out a theory that the reason it had spread so quickly was because infected people had managed to get onto the underground trains, which had transported them around the city. In those crowded and confined spaces it was easy for many more to become infected and then attack others on platforms. This meant that people then spilled onto the streets, attacking people there. It was chaos and the speed of it was alarming. But that didn’t account for the outbreaks in others cities and across the globe. There was something else behind it all.
There was a knock on my door and General Breck came in. He looked tired. The disa
ster at Hampton Court weighed heavily on his mind and he blamed himself for the fiasco. I invited him to sit and poured him a large whisky, which he gratefully accepted.
‘I have some news,’ he said, between sips of his drink. ‘Dr Bryson and his bodyguards are just outside Windsor.’
‘That is good news,’ I said.
I was relieved. I blamed myself for sending him out on what I had come to believe to be a fool’s errand. That he was still alive and now nearby, was good news indeed.
‘The problem is that they can’t get through to us on foot,’ he went on. ‘There are too many infected outside the castle. It would be impossible to get past them.’
‘Do you have any ideas on the matter?’ I asked.
‘Only one,’ said Breck. ‘The helicopter. We could pick them up and get them inside without using too much fuel.’
I considered the option for a moment. That I was being asked for my opinion, actually my permission, was a mark of how far I had climbed in the last two days. Were they looking to me for leadership?
‘We cannot afford to lose that chopper,’ I said. ‘It is the only thing we have available, should we have to evacuate the family.’
He nodded, well aware of the potentially dire consequences.
‘It’s a risk we must take,’ he said. ‘I believe that Dr Bryson and his team are in possession of some vital information which could be critical to our cause and would be foolish to ignore.’
I thought for a moment more. On the one hand I had a responsibility to the Royal Family. I had to make sure they could be protected, no matter what, but on the other hand I felt responsible for the doctor and his men and I wanted to make sure that they were safe. Their information could mean the difference between life and death for millions.
‘Do it,’ I said.
He stood up and drained the last of the whisky from his glass before walking to the door.
‘General,’ I said, as he made to leave. ‘Let’s not have any mistakes. We cannot afford to lose that helicopter.’
Mike Bradbury
17:10 hours, Saturday 16th May, Loch Leven, Kinross-shire
We had decided to spend the night on that island. It was going to be a cold one. I could tell by the feel of the air. We had no food and we were all hungry. I knew it would a long night for the children if they were going to uncomfortable too, so I set about building a shelter for us.
The Z Infection Page 21