He looked me up and down. I prepared myself for another punch but he went into the kitchen instead. I could hear him opening cupboards and drawers and I closed my eyes. It would only be a matter of time before he found what he was looking for.
Suddenly there was a shout from him. Leo, the black guy, stuck his head around the corner and whistled appreciatively.
Moments later the leader was back in the room, a bottle of whisky in his hand.
‘Looks like we hit the jackpot today,’ he said. ‘No more hiding in derelict buildings or empty shops for us.’
He uncorked the bottle and took a swig of the whisky, smacking his lips together as the strong liquid bit at his throat. He tossed the bottle to Leo, who also took a gulp. All I can remember, was being thankful that they hadn’t found the handgun and hoping that they would eventually get so drunk that they would pass out.
Chapter Fifteen
Anthony Ballanger
18:00 hours, Sunday 17th May, Windsor Castle HQ, Windsor
It was with a heavy heart that I prepared to make the daily television appearance that evening. The news that Dr Bryson had returned with, was astonishing to say the least. I now had to make a decision which would ultimately affect every person in the country. It was a simple choice. Do I tell them the truth – that their loved ones, who were still walking around, were dead and that there was no cure for them? Or should I lie? If I told a lie, what would it be?
In the end I discussed it with His Royal Highness, General Breck and Dr Bryson and we all came to the conclusion that people had to know what they were dealing with and how to stop the infected.
I felt very alone, as I sat in front of the BBC camera, in the temporary studio they had created. It was a large room which had windows looking onto the castle lawns. At any other time it might have been a nice place to be. Now it felt like a prison. We, the government, were the captives, while the dead were our gaolers, making sure we couldn’t escape.
‘Thirty seconds,’ said one of the crew.
I straightened my tie and took a sip of water from my glass. This was it. I was counted down and then I was on air, speaking to… how many? How many were left alive? I didn’t know if anyone was going to hear my message but I was determined to get it across anyway.
‘Good evening citizens of the United Kingdom. I speak to you tonight from Windsor Castle, our headquarters and seat of government and crown for the time being.’
‘Today we are facing one of the greatest challenges this country and indeed the planet, has ever faced. Today, and the last few days, have seen our lives transformed from order to chaos. We have seen many die. There are many missing. Many more have been infected by a disease we know little about and for which we have no cure at the present time.’
‘Please be assured that we are doing everything in our power, to find the source, to examine this new virus and to find an antidote for it. This work will take time, however, and it is unlikely that it will cure any of those currently affected.’
‘The reason for this is simple. Those who are infected and who are currently walking the streets of our towns and cities, are dead. I know that sounds like a scary story, but from the information we have gained so far, that is the conclusion we have come to.’
I paused for a moment and took a sip of water. People would have to digest this new information.
‘I cannot explain it to you in any more detail. The infected are dead and if they bite or scratch you, then you will become infected and die too.’
‘Many of you will have noticed that it is almost impossible to stop an infected person. You will have seen them shot, stabbed and horrifically mutilated. And yet they somehow still continue.’
‘New information we have received, is that there is one way to end their existence. If the brain is pierced, they die. This, it seems, is the only way to stop them. So, my one piece of advice is this. When you encounter them, aim for the head. Nothing else will stop them. They were your friends, your families, your wives and husbands and children. But they are not them any longer. Kill them when you find them. The army alone cannot win this battle. We need every person in the country to fight.’
I paused for another second before I delivered the last, carefully worded lines.
‘Be safe out there and be assured that we can only win this battle for our survival together. Go out, band together, seek out the enemy that wishes to destroy us and slaughter them all.’
‘And have no mercy on them, because they will show you none.’
‘Goodnight.’
The crewman gave me the thumbs up.
‘You’re off air now.’
I loosened my tie and got up from my chair. I had just delivered the biggest speech of my life. It had been less than thirty lines but it had, I hoped, packed enough punch to galvanise those survivors who were still out there. It was a terrible thing, to suggest that people kill their loved ones, but they had to fight. There was nothing else for it.
‘Well done,’ said General Breck. He was standing with Dr Bryson and the Prince of Wales. ‘Hopefully we might see some people prepared to resist now.’
Dr Bryson nodded in agreement. ‘But we must keep looking for the cure at the same time,’ he said.
Everyone agreed. This had to be the course of action to take. It was unfortunate that those already infected were unlikely to be saved, but we had to find a way to protect the rest of society from suffering the same fate.
‘I want you to head a group, looking into this,’ I said. ‘We already have a small lab here, in the castle, set up by a couple of young scientists. Take charge of them and investigate every possibility. Anything you need, just ask.’
‘The SAS team is also at your disposal,’ said General Breck. ‘I have overall command, but you seemed to work really well with them. Any time you need their assistance, they’re yours.’
The two men walked away, discussing the matter in finer detail, leaving me with the Prince.
‘Well,’ I said. ‘I hope that the speech works and people are invigorated by it.’
‘I certainly am,’ he said.
We walked for a few steps before he spoke again.
‘There’s been a decision made, Anthony,’ he said.
I looked at him, curious.
‘It’s been unanimously agreed that you should lead the nation,’ he said. ‘As an emergency Prime Minister. I discussed it with Her Majesty and what is left of the government and they all agree that you have showed exactly the sort of skills we need at this moment in time.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ I said.
‘It’s a temporary decree,’ he said. ‘The power will only last for as long as it takes to restore order.’
‘And the PM?’ I asked.
He looked saddened by what had befallen a once good man.
‘He will be cared for, as much as we can,’ he said. ‘We owe him a lot. He’s a good man, but he’s not the man for this.’
Mike Bradbury
18:30 hours, Sunday 17th May, Loch Leven, Kinross-shire
‘Dead?’
‘That’s what it said on the radio,’ said Anna.
I couldn’t believe my ears. The dead had risen and were walking the earth and the government were telling us the only way to kill them was to pierce their brains with something. We were being told to fight them.
‘This isn’t happening,’ I said. ‘This sort of thing doesn’t happen.’
‘Well it has happened,’ said one of the others. ‘Who cares why or how? We have to accept it and work out how we are going to deal with it.’
I sat down on a log on the beach and stared across at a figure on the shore. It ambled along, stumbling and faltering in that now familiar way. How could that person be dead?
‘Whatever the truth of the matter,’ said Anna. ‘We still need to live. And the fact is that the infected attack us whenever they can. So, whether they are dead or not, it doesn’t make an awful lot of difference.’
She sa
t down next to me and put a comforting hand on mine. She was always so calm in a crisis. It was probably all that airline training she’d had.
‘I have a plan,’ she said.
‘You always have a plan,’ I smiled.
She smiled back. ‘It involves some risk, but it will be worth it.’
‘So tell me.’
‘I was talking to Dave,’ she said. ‘The one who came to the island with me when I collected you. He says that the big island has good soil on it.’
‘And?’
‘We could farm it,’ she said. ‘This island is too small for that, but it makes a perfect defensive position for us. We are safe here. We could make it even safer.’
I was listening to her. She always made a lot of sense. Still does to this day. She is one who people are prepared to follow.
‘We could build houses inside the walls of the castle, reinforce the gate and rebuild the main tower. Put a roof over it as well,’ she said. ‘It would offer us the perfect place to defend ourselves if the worst ever happened.’
‘And the other island?’
‘Becomes a farm,’ she said. ‘It’s big enough. We could grow several different crops, fruit, vegetables, potatoes. We could even keep livestock. There’s enough room.’
‘And who’s going to grow all this stuff?’ I asked. ‘I worked for a bank. You’re an air stewardess. Most of the others won’t have a clue.’
‘But Dave does,’ she said. ‘His grandfather owned a farm. He knows a lot about it. He could teach others.’
I still wasn’t completely convinced, but she was getting there.
‘We’ll need to be self-sufficient eventually,’ said Anna. ‘We can scavenge for food in the short term, but sooner or later we’ll have to grow our own. This is the only solution. It’s too dangerous to set up on the mainland.’
She was right. Eventually we wouldn’t be able to find enough food to sustain ourselves.
‘What do you want me to do?’ I asked.
She smiled. ‘You will be our architect.’
I frowned. ‘Architect?’
‘We need shelters. You can design them and oversee their building.’
It was better than farming, I thought. She had talked me round. I suddenly realised that the others were gathered around and they began to talk excitedly. This was a new future in the making.
And I noted something else, too. There was a slight shift in the group dynamics. People were looking to Anna. As a leader.
Clive Westlake
19:00 hours, Sunday 17th May, Hounslow, West London
The route west was full of dead bodies, abandoned cars and the occasional infected person. I shut most of the gruesomeness out of my mind, but there were some sights that you could not avoid.
What were the worst ones? Children. Every time. They were often the ones who didn’t get away. They would sometimes be separated from parents and try to hide from the infected. More often than not they were found. I won’t go into detail. You’ve heard it before. It was no different for children than for adults. They were killed with the same callous disdain that the dead had for everyone.
I saw a group of people who had obviously been surrounded by the infected. They had formed a circle with the children in the centre as they had desperately fought off their attackers. It had been unsuccessful. Bodies lay on the street, ripped apart and disfigured as the swarm had torn through them. It was a heart-breaking sight.
On a corner of a street I saw an elderly couple who had suffered a similar fate. Too frail to escape, the man had tried desperately to defend his wife and they had died together.
Out towards Heathrow I was forced to take a detour as a large group of infected spotted me and gave chase. On the bike, however, I could easily outrun them and I was soon out of sight.
I cut through Hounslow and on towards Feltham. It was generally quiet in that area, with just the odd infected person, and for the most part I made good ground.
About an hour later I found myself at a country park. I stopped and took a long drink of water from the bottle. I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten all morning and had given away all my food, apart from a chocolate bar which I ravenously devoured.
I was about to get back in the saddle when my attention was taken by a noise. It was distant at first but then I realised it was getting closer, coming in my direction. It sounded like chanting and the banging of drums. Were people that stupid? I couldn’t believe there was anyone left on the planet who didn’t know that the infected were drawn to noise. It was the dinner bell.
I jumped back onto the bike and cycled further into the park. The noise suddenly became louder and from behind a screen of trees in the distance I could see people emerging onto the large open space. There must have been a couple of hundred of them. One man, at the front, had a huge bass drum and he was beating it as those around him chanted a defiant challenge.
I cycled towards them, cautiously at first and then with more confidence as I heard their encouraging shouts, hailing me.
When I got to them I could see it was a mixed group of men and women of all ages. All of them were carrying weapons of some sort. Sharpened golf clubs were a favourite, but there were all manner of things, including baseball bats, home-made spears, knives and axes. These people meant business.
The noise subsided as a man at the front raised his hand in the air. He was wearing combat fatigues and was carrying a fearsome looking club with several large nails protruding through the end. He must have been in his fifties and had medium length grey hair and a pot belly. Not exactly Alexander the Great, I thought, but I figured he must be the leader of the group.
‘Where are you going friend?’ he asked.
‘I’m heading west,’ I said. ‘I’m trying to find my wife. I think she might have gone to Bath.’
There were a few murmurs in the crowd.
‘Nothing in Bath anymore,’ said the man, revealing a row of cracked teeth. ‘It was evacuated yesterday. So the news said. It was overrun. There was a massacre.’
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it didn’t surprise me either.
‘Where were they evacuated to?’ I asked.
‘South, I think,’ said the man. ‘Big evacuation going on at Bournemouth. The navy are trying to save as many as they can, but it’s hopeless.’
‘What are you doing?’ I asked. ‘Don’t you know the infected are attracted to noise.’
‘Infected?’ said the man. There was a cackle of laughter from behind him. ‘Haven’t you heard the news?’
I shook my head. ‘Not since late last night.’
‘Oh?’ he said. ‘They’re not infected any longer. So the government tell us. They tell us now that they’re dead people.’
‘Risen to take us all to hell with them,’ said a voice from behind.
‘Dead?’ I asked.
He nodded. ‘Only way to kill them is to pierce their brain,’ he smiled. ‘That’s what we intend to do to them.’
‘Well keep making all that noise and you’ll get plenty of chances,’ I said.
‘That’s the whole idea,’ said a woman. ‘Attract them to us and kill them.’
‘It’s what the government told us to do,’ said the man. ‘We are the front line. We have to fight them.’
I looked at them. Some were just children. Many were quite old. Too old to be fighting a mediaeval style battle. They would be exhausted in minutes. It was suicide.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘This is just crazy. This isn’t the place to be fighting a pitched battle. They will come in their thousands. You are only a couple of hundred.’
‘We mean to do our bit,’ said the man. ‘You’re welcome to join us if you like.’
‘I prefer to live,’ I said.
There were more mutters and whispers from the crowd.
‘There is no living,’ said the man. ‘Not while the dead roam the streets. We could do with you.’
I was about to speak again, when suddenly there was a shout from a wo
man in the crowd. I turned to look in the direction she was pointing and saw a group of infected. There must have been about twenty of them and they had been drawn to the noise.
‘Join us,’ said the man again.
His eyes were wild, half mad. I wondered if he had been driven crazy by the events of the last few days. I looked at the others. Many were afraid. They looked exhausted and starving, but they were prepared to fight. I couldn’t cycle on and leave them, I thought. The plight was too desperate.
I dismounted and a cheer went up as someone from behind handed me a long pole with a sharpened piece of metal firmly attached to the end.
The twenty or so infected had been joined by another few and they walked towards us with their customary reckless disregard for their own safety. Someone threw a sharpened stick from the crowd. It was followed by a volley of missiles as more of them joined in. Some of the infected were hit by the projectiles, but they did little real damage.
As the first of the infected, a woman, reached us, our leader rushed forward and swung his club at her head. The force was enough to make sure at least two of the nails went straight through the side of her skull. She stopped momentarily and for a second I feared that she had survived the blow, but it was just a delayed reaction and she slumped to her knees.
A cheer went up from our little army and they charged at the rest of the dead, buoyed by their leader’s success. They cut and slashed at them and they fought back with their usual ferocity. It was butchery but it didn’t last long. We were too many for the small group and they were dispatched with ease.
Still we had casualties. One young lad received a nasty scratch on the arm and a woman was bitten on the shoulder. Neither would live. They knew it themselves. We all knew it. Moments later they were seized by convulsions. They foamed at the mouth, writhed in agony for a few minutes and finally expired.
‘Now they will come back to life, or death,’ said the leader. ‘Watch and you’ll see the rise.’
I had seen it before, but it still fascinated me. In minutes the two had gone from healthy adults to being dead, to being, well, dead still, but somehow alive.
The Z Infection Page 28