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Authors: Stephen Cross

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BOOK: Surviving the Fall: How England Died
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Saturday 20th May, morning, Leeds to Cornwall

 

The next morning, the sun was shining. The blanket clouds that had poured so much rain over the past week where nowhere to be seen. Maybe things were turning around, thought Jack. Some nice weather, some time by the beach. He picked up his acoustic guitar and carried it downstairs to add to the pile for the car.

“Jack,” called Amy from the lounge.

“Coming,” he dodged past Annie, ruffling her hair as she ran passed him upstairs.

“Getting Mr Fred!” shouted Annie.

Amy was sitting in the lounge, the news on. He frowned. Although not explicitly mentioned, there had been a somewhat unspoken news embargo in the house for the past few days. Why break it today?

“Have you seen this?” said Amy. Her skin was pale, and her voice meek.

Jack looked at the TV - images of military vehicles driving through towns and along the motorways. Empty airport lounges and grounded planes.

Amy said, “They say we should stay in our homes.”

Jack motioned for her to be quiet, “Let me listen.”

“Cases of infected have appeared overnight in London, with reports of fighting, riots and panic. The military have been called in to stem the flow of people from London as services struggle to cope with the sudden out flux of people, as tens of thousands people try to leave the capital. The Prime Minister has called for calm, asking people to trust in the authorities and to stay in their homes until further notice. He has asked that people think very carefully about any travel plans until this crisis is resolved, and the cases of the infected in the capital have been contained.”

Jack shook his head slowly. This is what happens when no-one tells anyone what’s happening. Panic, he thought. Panic and violence, all because the government doesn't trust the people with the truth.

Amy stared at him. “Well?” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess we stay here?”

“No,” said Jack immediately. “We are going on this holiday. You saw what the news said, it’s only London and they are containing it.”

“But Jack, the Prime Minister said that…”

“Who cares what he says? Do you really think they are telling people this because it’s the best thing for them?”

“Well, yes…”

“It’s not.” Jack picked up the remote control and turned off the TV. “Look, think about it. If this virus is dangerous, where do you think we’ll be safest? Here, Leeds? I’ll bet there are people already on trains and cars with this illness, heading north as we speak.”

He sat down next to Amy, and rested his hand on her knee. “We will be much safer out in the middle of nowhere for a few weeks, than in a built up area with millions of people. Think about it. The less people, the less chance of us getting ill.”

Amy breathed out and her shoulders dropped. “That does make sense, surprisingly,” she said smiling.

Jack hugged her. “Good. Then let’s go soon, before those loons shut down the motorways.”

“You think they’ll do that?”

“Maybe. Probably not.” He paused and looked at his wife - there was still uncertainty in her eyes. “You, me, and Annie, by the beach, while all this nonsense goes passes. It will be the safest place to be.”

Amy nodded, talking another deep breath. “Ok. Let’s do it.”

“That’s my girl.” Jack kissed her, and she reciprocated with more vigour than she had in a good few years. He realised he felt excited. This wasn’t just a holiday, it was an adventure, one like they used to have.

Annie ran in with Mr Fred and beamed to see her parents in an embrace. She joined in the hug. “Mr Fred is ready! Let’s go!”

 

They made good time and were already leaving Yorkshire behind them within an hour. The traffic leaving Leeds had not been busy - Jack had worried that everyone would be fleeing the cities, but no, at least not in their part of the country.

The traffic snarled up around Birmingham though. Jack wasn’t surprised, this is where the M40 met the M6, and any traffic from London trying to get north, or to Wales, would be. People trying to escape the threat of a raging virus, for example.

They played a few games of I Spy, some cards, but Annie soon got bored and restless.

Jack felt his hands tighten on the wheel. Looking at the odometer he quickly calculated it had taken an hour to travel 4 miles.

“Maybe we should get off the motorway?” suggested Amy.

Jack nodded and pulled off on the next junction, which took another thirty minutes to reach.

 

Traveling through the A and B roads past Chirenchester, Swindon and heading towards Bath, they made slow time, but managed to avoid any large traffic jams. It was apparent, however, as time moved on from early afternoon to early evening that they would not reach Cornwall until late in the night.

“We need to stop, find a B&B or something,” said Amy.

Jack nodded. Annie had had an hour’s sleep, but since waking up thirty minutes ago, her mood had quickly deteriorated.

They stopped a mile or two past a town called Frome, finding a pub on a country road called The Fox and Hounds. They booked in and after dropping off the essentials in their room, went back downstairs for dinner. The pub was old, low ceilinged with beams, and an inviting fire burned in the corner. A few regulars sat at the bar. No one else was eating.

They received old fashioned friendly service from the portly landlord.

“Are you guys from London then? Sounds like you got out in just in time.”

Jack shook his head. “No, we’re from Leeds. On our way to Cornwall, for a holiday.”

The landlord laughed. “Fine time to take a holiday. Mind you, probably best to be away from the cities. Things seem to be going to hell pretty quickly.”

“What do you mean?” asked Amy, glancing at Annie, pleased to see she was engaged with her colouring book.

“Have you not heard? All over the news. London is ‘Closed’. The military have declared it a quarantine zone. No one in, and no one out.” The landlord shook his head. “People are going nuts. If there wasn’t panic before, there is now.”

Jack and Amy looked at each other, worry creasing both brows.

“How can you close London?” asked Jack. “Surely there must be some laws, or something. You can’t just stop people from leaving a city. Bloody hell, this isn’t China.” Jack’s skin flushed.

“National emergency, they say. They can do anything in a national emergency.”

“Unbelievable. So what is it, tanks on the street?”

The landlord nodded. “So it seems. All the roads barricaded. The news stopped reporting on it a few hours ago, but it was all over the internet for a while. BBC site is down now though, lots of sites disappearing.”

“The same as Brazil,” murmured Amy.

The landlord continued. “They are talking about extending the zone, shutting of county borders. I’ve even hard talk of safe camps.”

“Safe camps?” echoed Jack.

“Aye. Somewhere to put everyone until the virus is contained.”

“An interment camp, in other words.” Jack shook his head.

“Things are going crazy alright,” said the landlord. “If I was you, I’d get off nice and early tomorrow. Get yourselves to Cornwall. You’re best as far out of it as you can get.” The landlord stared at the fire for a moment. “Wish me and the missus could do the same.”

Jack became conscious that Amy was squeezing his hand tight. He saw the unspoken plea in her eyes.

“Ok, look, we’ll have our meal, then I think we might get going.” Amy nodded. “Forget about the room. Sorry, but after what you have said…”

The landlord nodded. “I understand. I’ll get you a full refund.”

Jack held up his hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, you’ll get your money back. Get your little one out of it.” He smiled at Annie, who was colouring in a horse with a purple crayon, oblivious. “Now, lets get you your food.”

Saturday 20th May, night, Cornwall

 

The 4x4’s lights carved a path through the country lanes. It was approaching midnight, and following Stewart’s directions had brought them to the far end of Cornwall, now off the main roads and threading their way through narrow lanes, walled high on each side by fields. Jack had to drive slowly as bends came quickly, too sharp to see round. He struggled, tiredness tugging at his eyes. But ever since the landlord had told them how quick trouble was escalating across the country, Jack had been caught with a sense of urgency. He had no wish to be prisoned in a ‘safe-zone’, whatever the hell that was, this far from home. They would get to the holiday park and sit it out for the next few weeks, or, well, as many weeks as it took.

Jack relaxed as the road opened up to two lanes. The first lights he had seen in a while zoomed passed in the opposite direction, going much faster than they should.

He noticed Amy checking on Annie, who had fallen asleep a few hours ago.

Amy whispered, “Jack, I think I’m a bit scared.”

Jack took his eyes of the road for a second to give his wife a reassuring smile. “I know. It will be ok. Look, whatever is happening, I’m sure it will be resolved in a few days. You know the government, always prone to overplay things, to overreact. We are doing the right thing.”

Amy nodded. “I suppose. It’s best to be away from it, I guess.”

“Far away. Is she still sleeping?”

“Yes, I think she… Jack!”

Jack didn’t need the shout, he had seen it. He slammed on the breaks and managed to swerve past the minibus that blocked half the road. The car slid from left to right and the sound and smell of burning rubber filled the still night air as they tried to grip the road. Eventually they came to a stop.

Silence.

“Are you ok?” Jack managed to say to Amy, his heart beating fast.

Amy was breathing heavily, her face ashen, her hands gripping the side of her seat. She didn’t respond to Jack but quickly looked into the rear seat.

Amazingly, Annie was still asleep, her arms around Mr Fred.

“Well look at that, Amy, she’s still asleep,” said Jack. Relief turned into cautious laughter.

“Oh, thank God. Well done Jack, well done.” She reached over and they hugged for a moment.

“Look,” said Jack. “You stay here with Annie, I’d best go and check out that minibus. People may be hurt.”

He opened the car door, but paused as Amy held onto his arm. “Jack…” She looked straight into his eyes. “Jack, maybe we should just go.”

He looked back at Amy and realised what she was saying.

But he needed to check the van, someone could need help. It was the right thing to do.

“I’ll only be a minute, ok? Just a minute. I promise. I’ll go and look, and any problems, I’ll phone someone, and we can go.”

Amy’s hand dropped off his arm and she lowered her gaze. “Be quick.”

The night was warm and still, and silent. Jack wondered briefly at the lack of sound, what was missing?

Insects.

There were no insects. Maybe the wrong time of year, he thought as he took out his phone and turned on its torch. There were no street lights here and the darkness was complete.

The minibus was about twenty or so metres from their car and Jack approached carefully, shining his light across the white vehicle.

The front of the vehicle was wrapped around a telegraph pole that had splintered heavily and was close to collapse. The front and side doors were both open, and a strange paint job marked the side of the minibus. It was empty.

Jack moved closer and his heart skipped a beat as he realised he was not looking at a strange paint job, but a thick streak of blood.

That was enough. He turned on his heels and ran to the car. Only now did he realise how much the past few day’s news had spooked him.

A scream cut into the air. It was Amy. She was calling his name.

“Amy!” He ran faster. Holding up the torch, he saw two figures around his car, one of them reaching in through the driver’s door.

He charged and jumped on the nearest figure, pushing it out of the way. He pulled on the torso of the figure leaning into the car.

The first figure, now on the floor, grabbed Jack’s leg. It was pulling itself closer, and in the split second that Jack had to take in the scene, he was sure he saw the figures teeth gnashing fast, its jaw aiming for his leg. His thoughts paused - news reports, rumours, people eating people, the infected.

He tried to pull his leg away, over taken with panic, pushing his body against the car.

The other figure still lay half in the vehicle.

“Amy!” he shouted.

“Here!” she screamed in reply, and a shocked Jack could only watch in complete surprise as Amy appeared, her arm wielding some sort of weapon that she hammered down upon the writhing body on the floor.

It’s skull exploded onto the road and Jack stared at his wife as she straightened up, out of breath from the effort, blood splattered over her face and dress. “On the forum I read, they said you have to get them in the head. I got the one in the car too.” Hanging from her right hand was the wheel jack handle, pieces of flesh hanging from it, dripping blood onto the floor.

He smiled at his wife, “Amazing.”

His smile was short lived - Amy screamed as she was grabbed from behind. A head appeared out of the darkness and sank its teeth into her neck. She fell back, dropping the handle with a clatter.

Another scream, louder, more shrill, but contained; it was from Annie. Jack span round to see his daughter up against the window, her eyes wide in terror as she witnessed her mother being attacked.

He picked up the handle, and struggling in the darkness to see where the attacker ended and his wife began, he raised his arm and brought it down with speed upon the skull of the figure. Both Amy and her attacker fell to the ground, and Jack reached for his wife, but he was too late.

Hands grabbed Amy’s ankles and pulled her away from Jack. More figures - people it seemed, covered in blood - emerged from the dark, their arms wrapped around Amy. Their heads bobbed up and down, taking bites out of his wife.

Her screams filled the air, she called his name, “Jack”, over and over.

Then there was another scream, as chilling as his wife’s, this one shouted ‘Daddy!’.

Pulling his eyes away from his dying wife (she’s dying, my God, she’s going), he saw another figure crawling through the front door, trying to get to his daughter.

For a few seconds, Jack stood motionless, his brain unable to make a decision.

“Annie!” Amy’s shout disappeared into yells of pain, mixed with the satisfied grunts of the creatures feeding on her, and the sound of ripping tendons and cracking bones.

Jack ran to the car and pulled on the legs of the creature trying to get in. It turned around swiftly and under the car’s interior light Jack saw the face of an old woman, one half of her cheek hanging off to reveal part of her jaw.

Jack brought down the handle upon her head and it sank into her skull. The body of the old woman went limp. “It’s ok, Annie, Daddy’s here,” he shouted through gasping breaths, unsure as to whether he was going to scream or cry.

He pulled out the body and tried to pull the handle out of the old woman’s head.

It was stuck fast.

“Daddy!” his daughter screamed.

Jack looked behind him, and he was surrounded. Five, six, he didn’t know, he couldn’t count, all he knew was his vision was full of blood covered old people, shambling towards him.

Beyond them lay his wife (she’s gone, beautiful Amy, she’s dead).

They came closer, moaning, their arms held out, their jaws snapping.

He couldn’t get past them, he couldn’t get to Amy.

One of them, the only young one in the group, lurched forward and Jack only just stepped back in time. The young one fell to the ground and started to scramble madly towards Jack’s legs, click-clack-click went it’s jaws.

Jack scurried into the car and pulled the door shut. He span round and grabbed Annie, pulling her into the front of the car. She shook and sobbed and yelled. He put his arms around her and squeezed her tight - “Annie, Annie, are you ok?”

Thump, bang, on the windows. They had reached the car and pressed up against the doors in dumb persistence, like flies. Blood from their fresh wounds smeared against the glass.

“Daddy! Where’s Mummy? The monsters!” Annie could hardly form the words, each syllable punctuated with a cry or a scream.

Jack looked out into the darkness again, trying to see Amy, but he knew… He gripped the steering wheel and let out a cry, a primal yell. He turned on the ignition, and rammed his foot down hard on the accelerator.

The engine roared and with a jerk they were moving, and the monsters were gone.

“We have to get Mummy! Mummy!” yelled Amy. She leapt into the back seat and stuck her face up against the back window, the noise of her crying filling the car.

Jack’s tears flowed freely and made it hard to see. He struggled to keep driving, to keep going, but he had to. He had no choice. He had promised Annie he wouldn’t let the monsters get her.

 

Jack breathed deep and fast as he steered through the narrow roads towards their destination.

His hands shook and he felt fear at a level he hadn’t known possible. He reasoned he must be in shock, otherwise how could he function, after what had just happened? Dark horror had broken through to the real world, and taken his wife.

(Dead, torn apart).

He glanced in the back seat to see Annie, his little Annie, lying curled up in the fetal position, her body shaking with sobs that grew into full grown cries in horrible waves.

“Annie, it’s ok, it’s ok, Daddy’s here, I won’t let anything happen.”

Amy told me not to go, though Jack, and I ignored her. She’d be alive if I’d listened.

He pulled over to the side of the road and quickly dialed 999. He held the phone up to his ear, nothing. He looked at this phone again, no signal.

He fought the urge to throw the phone against the floor, to punch the dashboard, to headbutt the wheel of the car until he was dead.

Jack flinched as he saw movement in the headlights of the car. It was only a fox, trotting happily through the night.

He started driving again.

 

The lights of the holiday park shined brightly ahead. He pulled up to the gates where a few men stood around the barrier. They quickly surrounded his car and motioned him to wind down his windows. Under the lights of the nearby port-a-cabin, Jack saw the stern look on each of the men’s faces. They each carried a weapon of some sort; a baseball bat, a spade, a large knife, a metal bar.

Jack wound down his window. One large man approached but stopped short by a few metres, eyeing Jack carefully.

“Where do you come from?” he said.

“Leeds,” Jack said, and then, unable to stop himself, “They got my wife. I don’t know what they are, I have a daughter…” He felt the tears running down his cheeks and he stared at the man.

The man said, “Your card?”

Jack looked at him with the comprehension of a dumb rabbit.

“Your membership card? Are you a member here?”

Jack realised what the man was talking about. The security card for the park. He fumbled in the glove box and pulled it out.

The man took the card and ran it under a scanner by the barrier. There was a beep. He nodded to one of his colleagues in the darkness. The man leaned into the car, “You’re lucky, we’re about to lock this place down. Thought we would wait and catch some stragglers. Get to your chalet… You look in a bad way.”

The barrier rose.

“We need the police, my wife is gone,” said Jack

The man shook his head, “You need to get to your chalet, no-one is coming, not anymore.” He rested his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll come and see you tomorrow.”

Jack saw a sorrow in the man’s eyes, one that matched his own. “Ok, thank you.”

Jack drove through the barrier.

“You ok, Annie? We’re safe now.”

“Can we get Mummy?” The words hit Jack like a hammer, he had no answer.

Jack found the chalet and parked up. He sat with the engine idling, feeling dumb, feeling impotent. What was there to do? Why get out of the car? Why?

He jumped as a figure appeared beside the car. He reached for the wheel jack handle, but relaxed as he heard a soft voice, an old man’s voice.

“Easy pal, easy… You ok?”

Jack looked up to see an elderly man in a checked shirt standing beside him, with a torch in one hand and a spade in the other. “No,” said Jack.

The man nodded. “Ok. I understand. I’m Mike.”

Mike peered into the back seat and saw Annie. He turned and called into the chalet next door, “Marge, there’s a man and a little girl here. They don’t look so good.” He turned back to Jack. “Come on, we need to get you inside. It’s not safe out here.”

Jack nodded and got out of the car. He opened the back door and picked up Annie.

BOOK: Surviving the Fall: How England Died
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