“Fuck me,” said Matt.
“Hang on, mate,” said Gary.
“We have a riot in progress at the University of the West of England, Frenchay Campus, all officers report immediately to their stations for briefing,” the despatch officer said.
“Hell yeah, we may get to beat some student skulls in, that’s worth missing lunch for!” said Matt.
The people in the queue around the officers looked at Matt in outrage. They couldn’t say anything against the authorities without causing themselves difficulty. Gary felt ashamed to be in his friend’s presence at this time, but he knew there was nothing he could do or say to either calm the situation or change Matt. In all honesty, despite Gary not liking Matt’s verbal response, the opportunity of some action was an appealing one. The two men rushed out of the establishment to their car.
Gary leapt into the driving seat and put his foot to the floor. The small diesel engine was nothing special, but the officers had learned to ring every last drop of power from it. The front wheels squealed as they screamed out of the car park. Matt hit the lights and siren whilst Gary passed through every red light, fully enjoying doing so. Within minutes the men were at their station, eagerly running through the front doors. The station was a small one with just eight field officers on duty. They were greeted by their sergeant, Richards.
“Gary, Matt, get your gear on sharpish, you have five minutes,” said Richards.
The two men rushed to their lockers. Their riot gear was thrown in there untidily, they’d never had much use for it. Neither of them had worn riot kit since training and they quickly put it all on. It was the fastest the two men had done anything in their job, finally finding motivation when a few skulls needed beating. After just a few minutes the two men were fully kitted and ready to move. They had full riot protection on, helmets in hand. They followed the sergeant and other men to one of the vans and jumped in. The van raced off with the blue lights flashing.
“So what’s the deal Sarge?” asked Matt.
“All we know is that a riot has broken out at the university campus. The first officers on the scene came under attack and have not been in contact. We don’t know the reason for the riot or the current status.”
“So we’re going in blind?” asked Gary.
“Exactly, a number of other forces will be joining us there. Firearms units have been called in, but we don’t have an ETA on them as yet,” said Richards.
“So do we have any idea on the number of rioters?” asked Gary.
“No. Our job is to contain the scenario and assist any officers still on the scene,” said Richards.
“Are we authorised to strike first?” asked Gary.
“No, we wall off the area and take it from there,” said Richards.
“Fucking great, so our guys get the shit kicked out of them, but we can’t return the favour?” asked Matt.
“Stop that shit, Matt, we have a job to do, we’re professionals. I expect all of you to be on top form and to obey the law and my command!” shouted Richards.
The next five minutes of the journey to the university were a mix of emotions. The adrenaline was fuelling all of the men, but the lack of information also worried them. In this age of communication and technology they were not used to going into a major disturbance and with such little info.
Looking out of the window of the van, they were just a few hundred yards from the scene now. A small number of people were running or staggering away with torn, blood stained clothes. Clearly this was not a peaceful protest.
Finally the van came to a halt at the small roundabout which led to the campus entrance and the eight men got out of the vehicle. Each was equipped from head to toe in their standard riot control equipment. They also carried translucent round shields and batons. Richards had the loudhailer in hand and looked out at the scene of horror.
A crowd of people were walking slowly towards them, many covered in blood. They weren’t carrying banners or shouting abuse, it was an eerie scene. None of the men other than the sergeant had experience of a riot, but all knew too well that this was no ordinary scene.
“This is the police, stop where you are!” shouted Richards down the loudhailer.
There was no answer from the crowd who simply shambled on towards them, now two hundred yards away. Everything about this scene unsettled the men, but they stood their ground. A second police van raced on to the scene, seven men joining the group.
“What the fuck is going on?” asked Matt.
“I don’t know, Gary, take the loudhailer, see what you can do,” said Richards.
The sergeant ran to the second vehicle to make contact with the new officers.
“Chaps, I cannot tell you anything more about this than you already know and can see, please get in front of our van and bolster my men, I’m going to see if I can get some contact with despatch. I don’t know what’s going on here but it’s going to get bad,” said Richards.
The new coppers simply nodded and ran to join the other officers. They likely would have had a lot more questions had they seen the crowd bearing down on the first group. Richards jumped into the van they’d come in.
“Despatch, we have a situation here, please advise,” said Richards.
“Rioting has spread across the city, the station is under attack, we’ll not hold out for long,” said the despatch officer.
“Tina, is that you? What the fuck is going on?” shouted Richards.
“I honestly don’t know, people have gone crazy, they’ve broken through the doors! Good luck, Sir,” said the despatch officer.
“Tina? Tina!” shouted Richards.
There was no response. He jumped out of the vehicle and walked in front of his men. Gary was still shouting at the crowd in an attempt to make them stop.
“Our station is under attack by rioters like this. Only, I am not convinced these are rioters. This problem has spread across the city like wildfire. We’re now on our own. We can either stay and fight or try and help the staff left at our station.”
“Let’s get back to base, work out what the fuck is going on,” said Gary.
Richards looked at the sergeant of the other group.
“I suggest you attend to your own people,” said Richards.
“Agreed, good luck,” said the sergeant.
The two groups piled into their vehicles and were again on the move, just thirty yards away from the crowd that was bearing down on them. The tyres screeched as both vans rushed off.
“What the fuck is going on?” asked Matt.
“No idea, it’s like the city has gone mad, civilians are attacking and killing people. We no longer have any control,” said Richards.
“So, what, the country has suddenly gone to war with itself?” asked Gary.
“It would seem so. Communication lines have broken down, I’d heard of unusual isolated reports of attacks leading up to this afternoon, it’s likely related,” said Richards.
“What do we do?” said Gary.
“Let’s get back to the station and see what we can do to help,” said Richards.
“And what about the fuckers who want to hurt us?” said Matt.
“Don’t hit first, but respond if attacked,” said Richards.
Gary looked out of the window. Despite the van being pushed to beyond the speed limits, cars were passing them. Clearly nobody cared for the law anymore. They reached a roundabout, stopping to check if they could drive on. A saloon on the roundabout veered out of control whilst taking the bends too fast and clipped a white van, sending it tumbling into the police vehicle. The officers’ van was thrown onto its side. It was only fortunate that they had their helmets still on that saved Garry and Matt serious injury. Gary came to his senses a few minutes later. He looked around. Four of the eight officers had been killed outright by the van which had collided with the side of their vehicle at high speed. He could feel aches and pains running through his body. The sliding door to the van was open, facing up to the sky. Gary c
ould see that Richards was stood on top of the vehicle getting access to the driver’s compartment. He looked around and could see Matt next to him, eyes shut but he wasn’t moving. He tapped his friend’s helmet.
“Matt! Matt!” shouted Gary.
His friend awoke, still dazed.
“What happened?” asked Matt.
“We were hit by a van, we have to move!” said Gary.
He got up and helped Matt to his feet. They grabbed a few shields and batons and threw them out the open hatch onto the road before heaving themselves out. Richards was trying to pull the body of the driver, Jacob, out of his seat.
“What are you doing?” asked Gary.
“Jacob is dead, but Rob is stuck down there in the passenger seat, give me a hand,” said Richards.
It was a dreadful thing to have to do. All of them were friends, and they had been talking to Jacob just minutes before. Now they had to haul his dead body out of a wrecked vehicle, to be tossed aside. Gary took hold of Jacob’s body armour with Richards and yanked his body out of the cab, tumbling it off the vehicle onto the road. They reached in and pulled Rob up out of the vehicle. His leg was cut and bleeding.
“Can you walk?” asked Richards.
“Not sure, I’ll do what I can,” said Rob.
The men clambered from the smashed vehicle onto the road. Rob winced in agony as he landed on his injured leg. They took up the batons and shields from the ground.
“Can you walk or not?” asked Richards.
“I don’t think so, Sarge,” said Rob.
“Matt, Gary, give him some help,” said Richards.
Richards looked around the area. Cars still whizzed in and around the wreckage of the vehicles, none stopped to give assistance. In all directions what they knew as rioters were shambling about. Most of these people were covered in blood and they seemed to amble aimlessly around.
“We can be at the station in five to ten minutes if we get a shift on,” said Richards.
The group set off towards their destination. It was hot and tiring to be constantly on the move in full riot gear, but with people being attacked all around they were glad of the protection. Whilst Gary and Matt helped Rob keep up, Richards took point.
Richards was a capable man and his anger at what had happened to his officers was about to be unleashed on anyone who dared get in their way. They took a bend to see three people in their path.
“Step aside!” shouted Richards
The people didn’t respond. Their skin was pale and oddly wrinkled, their clothes torn. Blood was all over their clothing and they staggered towards the group. They appeared to no longer be human, but brain dead, yet they moved with purpose.
“Stand aside or we will use force!” said Richards.
The people gave out groans and didn’t stop. Richards was not ever a man of violence, but these people were responsible for the deaths of his friends and fellow officers. He went forward with his shield and baton at the ready. He slammed the baton into the stomach of the first, causing it to keel over. Before it could recover he hit the back of the shoulder blades, sending the man tumbling to the ground.
He struck the legs of the next person, a woman. The baton struck her knee cap sending her tumbling to the pavement. Finally he slammed his shield into the third one and shoved him up against the building next to them.
“Why are you doing this? What is the purpose?” asked Richard.
The man didn’t reply, but stared into Richards’s eyes. His jaw opened and he fought against his hold, but couldn’t break free of the position he was wedged into. The two people on the floor were already getting up, as if they hadn’t even noticed the injuries or pain they’d received.
“Hold on to him,” said Matt.
Gary held Rob up as Matt stepped in to help Richards. The woman whose knee was knackered was kneeling, unable to get back up because of the joint injury. Matt kicked her in the face with his steel toe capped boot, her nose exploded in blood as she was thrown onto her back. He twisted around and smashed his baton horizontally into the other’s face, breaking his jaw.
“Have that you bastards!” shouted Matt.
“What are these people?” asked Richards.
“Look like zombies to me, Sarge,” said Matt.
“Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t a movie. We’re in a shit storm and you’re living in TV land again,” said Richards.
“He’s right, I don’t know how or why, but look at the facts,” said Gary.
“Sounds like shite to me, but fuck it, I’ve had enough,” said Richards.
He swung his baton down onto the man’s head and it connected with force, making his body go limp against the shield. He pulled it back and the body slumped to the ground. The two other attackers were already trying to get back up, ignoring their injuries.
“Fuck this, let’s move on, leave those two,” said Richards.
“What?” said Matt.
“We’ve done enough damage already, I want some more answers before we start killing and maiming more civilians,” said Richards.
“Well fuck that, these are animals,” said Matt.
“You don’t know that, get going, that’s an order,” said Richards.
The four men moved on, despite the two people doing their utmost to get back on their feet to take hold of them. Fortunately, for whatever reason, they were too slow to keep up with the group. About three hundred yards on they could see a man on the ground, he was still moving slightly, clearly injured. They approached him with caution.
Richards knelt down beside the man. He’d clearly been bitten on the side of the neck, a deep wound. Blood was pouring from it. He was desperately trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding but he was getting weaker. Seeing the policeman kneel beside him he tried to ask for help, but couldn’t get a word out.
Richards knew it was too late for the man, but he put pressure on his throat, simply so the man could die knowing he wasn’t alone. A few seconds later the light from the man’s eyes faded and he stopped moving completely, his arms went limp. Richards looked up at his friends, sorrowful. It was truly a dark day.
“What the hell is going on here?” asked Richards.
“It’s the end of the world,” said Rob.
“Quit that religious crap, mate, nobody buys it,” said Matt.
“But it’s an apocalypse,” said Rob.
The dead man suddenly awoke and grabbed Richards’s hand and bit hard into the glove. The Kevlar re-enforced gloves had substantial slice protection and blunt trauma to the back of the hand, but the palms were thin, affording a good grip. The man’s lower jaw pierced the glove and drove into his palm. The sergeant gave out a cry of pain.
“You fucker!” shouted Richards.
He picked up his baton and slammed it into the man’s forehead, knocking him back to the ground. He hit him again and again until the man’s face was flattened and a bloodied pulp. He finally stopped the onslaught and stood up, cradling his wounded left hand.
“What the hell just happened?” asked Richards.
“He was a zombie,” said Matt.
“What do you mean was a zombie?” asked Gary.
“That man died and came back to life as a biting fucker,” said Matt.
“What does all this mean?” asked Richards.
“All those bitten by zombies become them,” said Matt.
“Bullshit, according to who?” asked Richards.
“Look I didn’t make up the rules, that’s what happens in the movies,” said Matt.
“It would explain how this riot turned into a fully fledged disaster so quickly,” said Gary.
“So am I just going to die and then come back to life?” asked Richards.
“We don’t know that yet,” said Rob.
“Fuck this, let’s go,” said Richards.
Matt and Gary shot a look at each other. Richards was the smartest and toughest man they’d known, but he may have just succumbed to the disease that would make him a flesh
eating monster, it was a troubling thought. They finally reached the station where they were based. The main door was smashed, the windows too. A thing, like the last ones, stood outside the building.
“What do we do?” asked Matt.
“About the zombie?” asked Richards.
“Kill the bitch,” said Gary.
“Well go on then, it’s your turn to get your hands dirty,” said Richards.
The zombie, who appeared to be a woman in her late forties, turned when hearing the men. She snarled at the group before shambling towards them and raised her arms in anticipation.
“Hold on to Rob,” said Gary.
Matt took Rob’s weight onto his shoulder whilst Gary approached the zombie. He swung the shield into her arms, crushing them, whilst exposing her temple as she was forcibly turned. He smashed the truncheon down onto the side of her head with all the force he had. The precise blow downed his foe immediately, blood dripping from the gaping wound.
“Let’s go,” said Gary.
They walked through the demolished station entrance to try and find any survivors. The station was a wreck, paper and stationery strewn everywhere. Patches of blood were scattered across the floor and along the walls. There had clearly been quite a fight there. Gary could hear some noise in one of the offices around the corner. He moved quickly towards the sound. As he got to the door he bumped into Tina, knocking both of them to the ground.
“Sorry, Tina,” he said.
He stumbled to his feet and looked up at his colleague who was dragging herself upwards at a nearby desk. As he moved to help her she shot a look at him. Blood oozed from her mouth and throat, her eyes were bloodshot, crazy.
“Tina, are you still in there?” asked Gary.
There was no response. She finally straightened up and stared at him. Her arm lifted as if to reach for him, but she was a few feet away.
“Tina, please answer me!” shouted Gary.
The other men arrived in the room to see the bloody mess that Tina was in.
“Fuck, she’s gone, mate,” said Matt.
Tina began stumbling towards the men, a few steps and she’d be on them.
Zombie Dawn: Outbreak Page 6