UK Dark Trilogy

by Harris, Chris

  Much of Jerry’s time these days was spent treating injuries resulting from the manual labour that took up most of our days. The study he had begun at the start, to see if the change of diet and improved fitness regime we had been forced to follow as a result of our new circumstances would improve general health, had proved conclusively that it did.

  The stores of regular antibiotics and traditional drugs had long ago run out, so he now spent the rest of his time consulting with Chris Garland, and studying the natural remedies that were available in the surrounding area. Combining this research with his knowledge of modern medicine, he had been very successful in coming up with remedies and concoctions to keep us healthy.

  Other people milled around the fire. I spotted Chris Garland with his partner and a young family of his own.

  All my friends were there, but they had become much more than friends; they were my extended family.

  “Come on Allan, let’s go and dance with our wives. We’ve got a lot to celebrate.”

  The Present Day

  I snapped myself out of my daydream.

  It had all seemed so real.

  I sat and thought about my vision of the future for a while.

  A warm glow spread though me. I knew that whatever happened, it was going to be all right. We were all going to prosper, grow and thrive from now on.

  The worst of it was over. We’d survived attacks, famine, disease and much more.

  We’d grown from a few neighbours and friends into a strong, secure community, more than capable of feeding and protecting itself. We had reached out to help others and been instrumental in getting the country back on its feet.

  I thought about the part I had played in all this.

  I thought about my frantic preparations before the event: amassing supplies, weapons and knowledge to help my family survive.

  Then realising that there was strength in numbers, and deciding to help my immediate friends and neighbours.

  Those few decisions in the early days had led all the way to a wedding attended by members of the royal family and the prime minister, and presided over by the Queen.

  You couldn’t make it up!

  I had asked myself a question at the very start of this story.

  “Am I a Prepper?”

  You know what? I think I probably am.

  THE END OF UKD

  ALSO BY CHRIS HARRIS:

  Dear Reader

  I do hope you enjoy reading this book, but I feel I should warn you that, unlike my series UK DARK, which contains few profanities and limited descriptive violence, this book is different.

  For the sake of realism there are frequent uses of the “F word” and the violence and gore is obviously more graphic. If this upsets you, then I am sorry, but in my defence, I think you would be hard pressed to find anyone under imminent threat of being eaten by a zombie who wouldn’t swear profusely!

  Thank you for your understanding.

  ZOMBIE CASTLE:

  ZC1

  Chapter one

  WOLFE MEDICAL RESEARCH LABORATORY

  BIRMINGHAM, ENGLAND

  “It works, it bloody works! Yes! We’ve done it!” Professor Andy Lawrence shouted, his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him.

  He was Chief Scientist at Wolfe Medical, a small, privately funded research laboratory where the past eight years had been spent striving to develop a genetically modified “virus killer”. Thousands of failed attempts had been made to develop a carefully altered rhinovirus (common cold virus) that would attach itself to a living virus in a cell and turn it into a harmless replica of itself. This process would continue until all virus cells were destroyed.

  It would then lie dormant in the body until another strain of the rhinovirus was detected, when it would spring into action, modifying itself to match the new variant and starting all over again.

  On the screen, small spiky blobs could be seen meeting and linking with other spiky blobs and then moving off to begin the process again.

  “This,” said Andy, “is the twentieth different serotype this beauty has attacked and rendered harmless.”

  His “second in command”, Professor Ian Devey, sat beside him and stared at the screen, lost for words. More staff gathered round as word spread quickly around the laboratory.

  This was the Holy Grail of viral research, Nobel Prize winning medicine, and they were all part of it. Careers had been made by moments like this. Once the silent wonder of what they were witnessing had passed, and realisation of their achievement had sunk in, the celebrations began.

  The serious lab technicians and research assistants abandoned their usual reserve and began to cheer and clap. Shouting to make himself heard over the noise, Ian shook Andy’s hand, “You must tell Mr Wolfe, he needs to know about this.”

  Andy shook his head, “I can’t yet, Ian. I need to run more tests. Come on man, you know good research can’t be rushed. I’ll tell him as soon as we’re sure it really works. We both know what he’s like. He only wants positive results, not maybes. Another couple of months or so and then we’ll tell him.”

  Disappointed, Ian nodded, “Of course, let’s not get his hopes up. Shall we call it a day? It’s two o’clock on a Friday afternoon. We won’t get this lot back to work, so let’s all finish early and I’ll buy the first round in the pub.”

  “If you promise to buy the second one as well, I’ll get this place cleared in ten minutes,” Andy replied grinning.

  Later on in the pub, Rose, one of the research assistants, typed a short message into her mobile phone, pressed send and put the phone back into her pocket. No one took any notice. Why would they? Texting was such a normal everyday activity.

  Looking back, it was this moment that began the process by which human beings would cease to be the dominant species on the planet, and would become the hunted.