The Z Infection (14 page)

       I reckon we ran over at least a dozen of the stray
mutants who were on the runway, but I didn’t feel it at all.  To me it had been
a textbook take-off and I was happy to be up in the sky once more.

       Looking down you could see them.  Thousands and
thousands of the infected, all looking to the sky as we departed.  I had never
been so glad to leave Heathrow.  The airport was a mess.  Fires and structural
damage all around.  I saw one aircraft which had failed to stop and had crashed
straight through the building.

       ‘That was where it started,’ said Lucy, reading
my thoughts.  ‘We think there was someone infected on that plane and he or she
attacked and infected the rest of the passengers and crew, causing the plane to
crash into the building.  Of course, when the rescue teams went in and opened
the doors all the infected came charging out.  It didn’t take long for it to
take hold all over the airport.’

       It was staggering to think that it had happened
so fast.  But at least we were safe now.  I felt sorry for those who had been
killed in the massacre at Heathrow, but all I really cared about now was
living.

       ‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

       ‘Edinburgh,’ said Lucy.  ‘It’s the only city in
the UK with an airport that is still in working order.’

Anthony Ballanger

07:38 hours, Saturday 16
^th
May, Windsor
Castle, Windsor

       What a day it had been.  I had been awake since
four the previous morning and had hardly stopped to draw breath in all that
time.  It was now more than twenty-four hours later and I was nearing the end
of my stamina.  The PM had told me to take time for something to eat at about
ten the previous evening.  I had walked out to a takeaway pizza place at the
corner of a nearby street and had found that it was deathly quiet.

       That the pizza place was still operating was a
minor miracle in itself.  The man who owned the shop, an Italian fellow, said
he hadn’t had a customer since he opened.  It didn’t surprise me and I advised
him to shut up shop and go as far away as he could.  Nothing good was going to
come down his street any time soon.

       He gave me my order and refused to take any
payment for it.  We thanked each other, me for the pizza and he for the advice
and went our separate ways. 

       When I got back to Earl’s Court I was told we
would be moving again.  It was no longer safe there and some of the infected
had been spotted just two blocks away.  They were moving slower now, searching in
all the nooks and crannies.  The crowds of earlier in the day had thinned and
dispersed and there were fewer targets.  I hoped that our broadcasts were
helping people to stay safe. 

       I hitched a ride with the PM and we drove out
to Windsor.  An agreement had been made that the government should seek refuge
there in the meantime, along with the Royal Family and some other prominent
members of society.  On the way there we parted company with General Breck, who
left to take personal command of the forces which were being deployed to retake
the city.

       I watched as huge columns of tanks and armoured
vehicles drove past us.  The faces of those young soldiers are still with me. 
Brave souls.  Or were they just ignorant of what it was they went to face?

       It took us most of the night to traverse the
city.  It was much worse than had been reported.  Eventually, at about half
past seven in the morning, just outside Eton, we happened upon a group of
people who flagged us down.  They were fleeing from the area around Slough. 
Apparently there had been a large outbreak there and thousands had been
killed.  The tales they told sounded so far-fetched, but we knew they were probably
true.

       When we arrived at the gates of Windsor we were
given a thorough check.  Nobody would be allowed to enter if it was suspected
that they might be infected in any way.  The guards and medical staff checked
for bites in particular, but also the minutest of scratches were examined and
questioned.  In the end we were all allowed access and were shown to some
rooms.

       All I remember was feeling so exhausted that I
could hardly think straight.  Most of the staff went to bed.  They would be
needed again soon enough.  The PM went to see the Queen, to give her an
appraisal of the situation, especially about what was happening around
Buckingham Palace.  She told him she was pleased that some had found shelter
there and gave permission for the guard there to do whatever was necessary to
defend the palace.

       So that was that.  London was in tatters. 
Thousands, maybe tens of thousands dead and hundreds of thousands now infected
and mutated with God only knew what.  It wasn’t any better anywhere else.  The
reports from around the country were less than encouraging.  The city centre of
Bristol was one huge fire, while all contact with Cardiff had been lost over
two hours before.  The centres of Manchester and Birmingham were ghost towns
and in Glasgow there had been a report of a huge battle between the infected
and several thousand survivors, near to Ibrox Stadium.  The result was the same
as it had been elsewhere.  Not even Glaswegians could fight this, I thought, as
I drifted off.

Dr Richard Bryson

08:10 hours, Saturday 16
^th
May, Central London

       Taff had found the only solution to our
situation.  With the infected advancing on us from three side I had been sure
that this was the end.  I didn’t fancy trying to swim the Thames.  I wasn’t a
strong swimmer and I was sure I would drown before I got to the other side.  Of
course that would have been infinitely preferable to what was coming at us,
however, and I followed him without question as he sprinted for a flight of
steps. 

       Shaky and Tony were dropping them here and
there, covering the rest of us as we went.  Si dragged our prisoner behind him,
stumbling as she tried to keep pace.  Her instinct, if that’s what it could be
called, was to kill him, but with her hands tied behind her back and Si’s noose
around her neck, holding her at more than an arm’s length, it was proving to be
an impossible task for her.

       When I got to the steps I saw that Taff’s idea
hadn’t been so crazy after all.  There was a small boat tethered to a floating
dock.  It was the only one there but is was easily big enough for all of us and
our captive.

       ‘Get on,’ he shouted, leaping on board.

       I was next, followed by Si, who allowed his
prisoner to catch up with him, sidestepped her in one fluid move as she lunged
to bite him and then kicked her in the back, knocking her onto the deck.  He
was on top of her before she get back to her feet, restraining her with his
boot on her throat, while the others followed us onto our ark.

       The infected were teeming down the steps behind
us as Taff untied the last of the ropes and pushed us away from the dock.  They
piled onto the floating pier and stood there, wailing and moaning in the unison
of some hellish choir. 

       We still didn’t have any power and Taff went to
the wheelhouse to see if he could start us up.  There was no key and we began
to float down river without any control.  He searched around and found the box
where the electrics were held and then smashed it open with his rifle.  Inside
were several wires.

       ‘You’re going to hotwire it?’ I asked.

       ‘Got a better idea?’

       I didn’t.  I had never seen a boat hotwired
before.  Come to think of it I had never seen a car hotwired either.  But it
worked.  Taff fiddled with a few of the wires before he found two that started
the vessel when he sparked them together.  It wasn’t a moment too soon.

       As I went back out onto the deck I could see
that we had drifted perilously close to the bank again.  It was lined with
thousands of infected, but I noticed something that hadn’t occurred to me
before.  They weren’t jumping into the water to get to us.  They stayed on the
bank and continued to moan and howl, but they came no further.

       Shaky and Tony were seated, while Si had
managed to allow his captive to get back to her feet and was holding her
against one of the bulkheads.  As Taff got the vessel moving and we began to
make some progress up river, I suddenly noticed something else.  The woman Tony
had shot in the head earlier, as we had retreated to the floating pier, was
still lying on the ground.  She hadn’t got back up again.  Others, who had been
hit in the chest and other parts of their bodies, were walking around like it
was a quiet evening stroll.  But she stayed motionless.

       ‘Shoot one of them,’ I said to Tony.

       He looked at me like I was nuts.

       ‘There’s no point,’ he said.  ‘They just get
back up again.’

       ‘Please,’ I said.  I looked up at the moaning
crowd of infected souls and saw a man who looked like he would have been in his
seventies.

       ‘That one there,’ I said.  ‘Aim for the heart.’

       Tony looked at Shaky, who shrugged his
shoulders.  Then he stood up and brought his rifle to his shoulder. 

       ‘In the heart?’ he asked.

       ‘If you can.’

       He gave me another ‘what do you mean if I can?’
look and then reselected his target.  He fired once.  The round hit the old guy
square in the chest and he fell back.

       ‘That’s a kill shot if ever there was one,’
said Tony.

       We watched for a moment and sure enough the old
guy got straight back up to his feet again.  Christ that gave me the shivers. 
It still does.  To watch someone, who should be dead, take a bullet right in
the centre of the chest and then stand up again?  It’s unnerving and it’s the
reason the army had such a tough time of it in their early engagements.  How do
you fight an enemy that won’t die?  Can’t die.

       ‘Aim for the head,’ I said.

       Tony looked at me again.  I pointed to a
younger one this time.  Another man, aged in his twenties or thirties. 

       ‘That one there.  Shoot him in the middle of
his forehead.’

       Tony took aim again and a second later pulled
the trigger.  His aim was as good as it had been the first time.  It was a
marvel to watch actually.  We were on a boat, travelling against the current,
and he was still able to make shots like that.

       The round hit the man in the centre of his
forehead and he dropped like a stone to the ground.  We watched.  I counted the
seconds.  Five, ten, fifteen, twenty seconds went by.  We all knew he would
have been back on his feet by about the ten or fifteen second mark, but he
didn’t get up.  I counted to a minute and then turned to Tony.

       ‘That one is dead,’ I said simply.

       He gaped at me. 

       ‘How did you know?’

       I didn’t know.  That was the problem and it was
eating me up.  How did the infected survive a bullet to the heart when one to
the brain stopped them dead?

       ‘The woman on the street up there,’ I pointed
to the steps.  ‘I noticed you hit her in the head and she didn’t rise again. 
All the others managed to get back up.’

       ‘That’s the secret,’ said Shaky.  ‘You hit them
in the head.’

       We carried on up the river for a few miles,
until we had lost sight of the horde.  Once it was safe, Taff drew us into the
bank and tethered the boat to the side.

       ‘Time for a break,’ he said.  ‘Get some sleep. 
I’ll take first watch.  Si, you keep an eye on your friend.’

       Tony had found some duct tape below decks and
he and Si had taped up the woman’s mouth.  She was still making noises, but it
wasn’t as loud as before and it was safer for us too.

       I managed to get some fitful sleep, before I
woke just after seven o’ clock.  All four of my companions were already awake. 
I don’t know if any of them had slept.  They were busy untying the ropes and
preparing us to leave.

Taff was at the door of the
wheelhouse, giving orders while the others worked. 

       ‘We need to get that information, about how to
kill them, to the government as soon as possible,’ I said.

He was nodding his head in agreement
but there was a look of concern etched into his features at the same time and
he was busy looking beyond me.

       ‘I agree with you completely,’ he said.  ‘The
problem is them.’

       He pointed to the bank.  The infected had found
us again.  I don’t know if it was the same group as we had encountered earlier,
but they were following us with a dogged determination as we headed upstream.

Clive Westlake

08:30 hours, Saturday 16
^th
May, Central London

     
The feeling of freedom I had, as I fell from the window of the third
floor of New Scotland Yard, was one I will never forget.  It was like I was
falling in slow motion and that all my troubles had left me as I was finally
released from the horrors I had witnessed.  I was moments from death and I
didn’t care.

       Of course I still had three of the infected
falling with me and even then, as I hurtled to what I was sure would be my end,
they tried to bite and scratch me.

       As I passed the windows of the second floor I
could see that the battle was still raging there.  Several people were
barricaded in an office, holding off the attackers with whatever came to hand. 
Tables and chairs were stacked against the door and men and women were wielding
broken furniture, a pole and even a pair of scissors as they fought for their
lives.

       On the first floor it was different story. 
Here, the infected had all but won the battle.  Blood was spattered on the
insides of the windows and it was obvious that most of the people in there were
dead.  The one exception was a woman of about fifty, who just watched me in
astonishment as I fell past her.  The look on her face haunts me.  It wasn’t
terror any longer.  She was obviously past that stage.  It was resignation. 
She knew there was no way out and she was just standing there, waiting for the
end.

       I expected my own end at any moment, but
suddenly hit something solid much quicker than I had expected.  It was an
overhang, which protected cars in the parking bays.  I had the wind knocked out
of me but stayed conscious, which surprised me, and I managed to grab onto a
metal strut as I slid towards the edge.  It was enough to stop me falling
further. 

       My ‘companions’ in the fall didn’t fare as
well.  The first one hit the edge of the overhang and spun off at an angle,
landing in the compound below.  The second must have hit a weaker part of the
structure and went straight through it, crashing onto a car below and setting
off the alarm. 

The third one somehow managed to get
some purchase and prevented himself from going over the edge.  He crawled
towards me, snarling and salivating as he came.  I tried to back away from him,
but the angle of the overhang made it difficult for me and I slipped, almost
losing my grip and sliding into his waiting mouth.

He was inching towards me, slowly
gaining ground, as he hauled himself up and I was trapped.  Below me, in the
compound, I could hear the sounds of the infected.  They had found a way
through and were congregating in large numbers now.  I couldn’t go back inside
the building.  It was a scene from hell in there.  And now I had this crazy,
sharing my refuge and trying to make a meal of me.

I kicked out at him as he reached for
me, knocking his hand away.  I prayed I wouldn’t get a scratch.  It was clear
now, that the infected would seal your fate with the slightest cut or graze. 
But I knew I couldn’t let him get too close.  The mouth was the most
dangerous.  I couldn’t even begin to imagine what pain some had gone through
and there was no way I wanted to experience that.

He pulled himself another few inches
closer.  I could see that his right leg was dragging behind him at an awkward angle. 
It was broken, perhaps in the fall from the window, but it didn’t seem to
bother him at all.  He was completely single-minded in his task, which was to
kill me.

I kicked out again, catching him on
the lower jaw this time.  Again it had no effect, other than to delay him for a
moment or two.  He crawled closer.  I could hear the mob below, baying for my
blood.  I imagined them ripping me apart, eating me even as I still breathed. 
That was enough.

I steadied myself and allowed the
freak a little closer.  He was almost at me.  I could smell his putrid breath. 
At the last moment I lashed out with all my strength, kicking him full in the
face.  The nose broke with a sickening crack and a thick black fluid poured
from it as he tried to keep his balance.  I kicked again, harder this time and
caught him on the side of the head.  This time he gave a slight groan as he
slipped.

He grabbed for my leg and caught me
by my shoe.  It was the only thing preventing him from falling.  He had no
other grip on the structure.  Using my other foot, I prised off the shoe he was
holding onto.  As it slipped from my foot so did he.  He reached for me, but it
was already too late.  He tried to grab onto the overhang as he went over the
side, but there was nothing that would stop his fall.  The momentum was too
great.

He toppled over the edge and a second
later I heard a thump as he landed on the ground in the compound.  I lay back,
gazing up at the night sky and gasping for breath.  I could feel myself
slipping away and the thought terrified me.  I frantically wrapped an arm
around the strut and held in place there.  Then, as my breathing quickened and
sweat began to gather on my brow, I passed out.

Callum MacPherson

08:30 hours, Saturday 16
^th
May, Buckingham
Palace, London

     
The first helicopter arrived first thing in the morning.  I hadn’t had a
wink of sleep, but I didn’t care.  It was just comforting to know that there
were others out there who were on our side and that General Breck had been as
good as his word.  Not that I had doubted him for a second.  Everything I had
heard about the man told me that he was one who kept his promises, no matter
what.

       What I hadn’t expected, was that the General
himself was on board that first chopper.  He stepped off and onto the palace
lawns, his tall frame ducking as he cleared the spinning blades of the
aircraft.  He walked with enormous purpose, I remember, away from the area
where the civilians had pitched their tents, stopping for a brief moment to
survey the scene with his intelligent blue eyes.