28 Days Later - Death of a Nation

I don't know why but this one part specificly gets to me. Like, it's even confusing to myself - I was able to read pretty much the entire rest of the story without even shivvering once, but this sent a chill down my spine.


On a similar note, there have always been 2 things that have made me terrified of Zombies since I was a kid :

1. Help is not coming. It's never coming. And I don't mean the usual - yeah of course they're not going to help with the Zombies, but imagine like your neighbors forget to turn the stove off and the house catches fire. You can't call the Firefighters becouse they're all fucking dead,so now you have a simple choice - leave, and get devoured by the Horde, or don't - and burn / suffocate on the smoke. Lovely. Even stuff like breaking a leg - Hospitals are overflowing, medical supplies are nonexistent and the Paramedics are eating the people they're supposed to be protecting. You got a finger cut and it's become infected? Well, may as well begin looking for a lily to clutch and for a hole to lie down in.

2. The zombies used to be Humans. I know this is a bit of a cliche, but imagine a horde - not as an unified force of indentical NPCs, but as ,,individuals".
There's some local City Council Member who wanted to run for mayor, a loving single Mother of 3, an elderly retired Firefighter, an Ambitious Businessman - all of them used to be seperate human beings at some point, with their own goals and personalities. They're GONE now. Completly. They're just husks - automatons of flesh with no free will left, and, as this chapter's Police Department brilliantly showcased, with no critical thinking - just mindlesly smashing and vomiting on anything that makes a noise.

Now on one hand Zombies that can think is a fucking terrifying concept, but a more terrifying one is the idea that there's just nothing left. The Virus dosen't just hijack your body and use it to its ,,fullest extent", it is activly destroying it even to its own detriment.
Regardless of what type of zombie - undead or living - is both a terrifying and depressing concept.

The part you mention about no help coming is true. You're on your own or the military can't contain the outbreak (well in fictional media anyhow, so there will be a story).

And the fact those undead walkers or living infected are people at some point. Even though you did it in self-defense, you know they had lives at some point.
 
Regardless of what type of zombie - undead or living - is both a terrifying and depressing concept.
I meant critical thinking - the Human brain is such a complex contraption, and it's a horrifying thing to me to see it just reduced to a simple ,,walk - kill - eat - repeat" machine. Like at this point Chimpanzees or Sewer Rats are more ,,intelligent" than zombies.
The part you mention about no help coming is true. You're on your own or the military can't contain the outbreak (well in fictional media anyhow, so there will be a story).
As I said, that's the ,,casual" part - the ,,hardcore" part is that you're on your own with everything. In modern society we have a solution for basicly everything if you can pay for it - Money can fix a leaking pipe, give you access to unlimited knowlage (and porn), help you get out of a sticky situation (hiring a Lawyer or bribing the cops).

Here? You're on your own - if your pipe is broken it's probably broken for good. No more Medical Aid, no more firefighting, you can't just call for a pizza when you get hungry. Survival nuts can talk about ,,weak modernity" all they want but they also won't last long after they run out of piss to drink, their 200$ Expert knife breaks and they eat the last bit of tree bark in the Immidiete viscinity of their home.

Yes, there is nothing left of modern society - other than a bunch of ruins just itching to catch on fire and burn down your home, Industrial Equipment left unchecked and thus a ticking time bomb, and milions or bilions of walking (or not) corpses.
And the fact those undead walkers or living infected are people at some point. Even though you did it in self-defense, you know they had lives at some point.
I meant the terror of how theese people have been reduced to nothing.

Let's compare people to buildings - every one has something inside, maybe it's furniture, maybe Industrial Equipment, maybe alleys full of various supplies. Each one is teeming with life (maybe Hobos, maybe Middle Class People, maybe Industrial Workers) and unique.

Zombies are like ruins after a nuclear strike. It's just a bunch of rubble and cinders, with maybe a few signs remaining indicating what they once were.

For some reason that is horrifying to me - while killing a bloated corpse is not too scary, becouse it's, you know, just a fucking corpse with nothing left of the person it once was, the most terrifying part is just what this Virus is doing to the body to completly burn out your personality and critical thinking.

4 Milion years of evolution undone in 16 Seconds
 
I have a short story in this universe I've knocked up over the weekend that I'd like to share.




Day #2


The lieutenant gathered the four of them together as they mustered before going on duty.

“Just a quick one, guys.” He was a friendly, easy going officer. “I’m sure you’ve all heard things concerning Cambridge and the civil unrest going on there. Forget all the nonsense that has been said: I know there’s been some silly stuff going ‘round. It doesn’t, and isn’t, going to effect us at all here at Lakenheath.

That said, the base is on lockdown in terms of entry and exit.

No one is going out today. No one is due to come in either. You four will be on the Second Gate and it’ll be a quiet duty for you with any dramas sure to be on the Main Gate. As you can expect, there’ll be someone who just has to leave for whatever reason they can think of. The general though has given the order that everyone stays in and that’s just how it’s gonna be.”

Airman Banks raised his hand. “Sir?”

“Go ahead, Tim.”

“Is it true, L–T, that the Brits are sending in soldiers? That sounds a bit much for ‘civil unrest’, doesn’t it?”

“I’d imagine,” the US Air Force Security Forces lieutenant answered, “that those soldiers are from their Territorial Army. That’s similar to our National Guard back home. They’ve gone in today from what I’ve been told and I’m sure that by tomorrow morning at the latest, most likely tonight, that’ll be the end of it. We can open the gates back up then.”

Another one of the Defenders (the nickname for the Security Forces) had a question too. This time it was Airman Young. “Have we got the Bobbies on the gate, Sir?

The lieutenant nodded. “There’s two of them out there as usual on the Second Gate.” He grinned before adding to that. “Jack, you know they aren’t Bobbies with the silly hats that their cops have down in London. There’re civilian security.”

“Yes, L–T, okay.”

RAF Lakenheath was an American airbase in East Anglia. It was solely operated by the US Air Force with a mixed wing of F-15C fighters and F-15E strike aircraft. Two-thirds of the wing was in the Middle East, gearing up for an expansion of the War on Terror, smashing the Axis of Evil to pieces, when the time came for that to happen. While many of the aircraft were away, the base was still a hive of activity. There were training flights by other aircraft and visiting aircraft too. Lakenheath was home to thousands of Americans, many of them family dependents. It was Little America inside with countless creature comforts that reminded everyone of home located within the base. Perimeter fencing ran around the edges. There were anti-vehicle ditches in selected places. Three gates were along the perimeter. The Main Gate and the Second Gate were beside the A1065 main road, a link which went down to the nearby RAF Mildenhall – another American airbase – to the south as well as up northwards deep into rural Norfolk. There was a third smaller gate to the west though that was usually shut. The Second Gate was mostly for deliveries and, like the Main Gate, had security guards from the MOD present. Those weren’t military policemen, nor policemen of any kind, but just security to deal with incidents where the American airmen who manned the armed security force weren’t needed. As to the latter, they were from the 48th Security Forces Squadron. Company-sized, three quarters of the regular personnel were in Saudi Arabia during May 2002. The remainder were joined on a rotating basic by other airmen from the base to help make up the numbers. The mission was to ensure that intruders and even suicidal extremist attackers would be kept out.

Sergeant O’Reilly led the men away, all of them carrying their M-16s.​

“Have a good one,” the lieutenant told him, “and I’ll see you later when I’m doing my rounds.”

Senior Airman Quinn – he had the rank equivalent to an Army corporal – looked too like he had a question for the lieutenant but said nothing like his sergeant hadn’t either. The two of them had their orders and had listened to what they’d been told. The base was on lockdown but there was nothing to worry about.

Cambridge and whatever weirdness was going on there was a long way off. It wouldn’t effect them. O’Reilly wasn’t sure about that.



It was a wet but warm afternoon. The road outside was mostly quiet. O’Reilly and Quinn both speculated that it was shut with either police or soldiers having stopped its use by anyone other than military traffic. There were various trucks which went down in, all heading south, and all of them green. In twos or threes they went past Lakenheath without slowing down. Young was up in the Tower. That was nothing of the sort, just a raised platform ten feet up and made of scaffolding with a ladder. It had the name in jest though: while none of the four men here today had given it that they liked regardless. From up there, the farm boy from Iowa had a bird’s eye view of a wide area. In a combat situation, the Tower would have great value too.

“Helicopters, Sarge. They look British to me.”

“Are they coming towards us, Jack?”

“No.”

“Then,” O’Reilly called up to him, “I don’t need to know.”

Biting his subordinate’s head off wasn’t what O’Reilly usually did but these weren’t ordinary times. He was worried. He’d heard about Cambridge. It wasn’t that far off at all. Something seriously wrong was there, wrong enough that the general who commanded Lakenheath had shut the airbase down. None of this was normal and it was, though he’d never openly admit it, frightening.

“It’s Al Qaeda, you know that, right?” Quinn was standing beside him, looking out towards the road again.

“What?”

“That’s what’s going on there, Billy. First they did Nine Eleven, then there was the guy with the bombs in his shoes on that plane and now they’ve done something here.”

O’Reilly shook his head. “Don’t be silly. It’s not that, Owen: it’s something else.”

“Drugs then. Maybe someone got a bad dose of Acid and passed it out… you know like to friends and strangers.”

Looking at him like he was crazy, O’Reilly once again shook his head.

Banks was behind them. “Sarge,” he said, “I think Owen’s had some of that bad gear himself because he’s talking utter nonsense. Which, I know, isn’t unusual, but today’s something special.”

Quinn told Banks to stick it where the sun didn’t shine in rather explicit terms.

The two of them laughed. Quinn didn’t.

“What’s so funny down there?”

None of them answered Young. They all went back to their watch instead, standing around behind the closed gate.

O’Reilly tried to take his mind off the whole thing. He thought about his girl, a local lass. She was a waitress in a cafe off-base, an English girl who liked Americans. There was a rumour that that was what she was exclusively into. Hence why O’Reilly had sought her out. He had a girlfriend back home in Buffalo but the waitress was quite something.

She lived and worked in Newmarket. That was just down the road from Cambridge, half the distance from here to the city. Thinking of the distances, his mind went back to his concerns over what was going on out there.

O’Reilly couldn’t shake his fear that not only was she going to be the sticky stuff if everything he’d heard was real, then it would be here as well not long afterwards too.



Several more hours passed. The rain stopped and Young called down that he could see smoke rising off in the distance.

“Where?” O’Reilly called up to him.

“Not sure, Sarge.” He was holding his binoculars up. “Somewhere south… maybe.”

With a groan, O’Reilly climbed the ladder.

Banks was standing near the bottom as his sergeant went up. “Be careful. You’re not as young as you used to be.”

O’Reilly gave his not funny fellow Defender the middle finger. He was still in the prime of his life!

Taking Young’s binoculars off him when up top, O’Reilly tried to see where the fire was. It was to the south, down near Newmarket too. What was burning he didn’t know yet something was.

“Car coming up the road. Up from the south.” Young tapped him on the shoulder as he said that.

O’Reilly was soon back down on the ground. The car, a white family-sized vehicle, had stopped outside the gate. The two civilian security people were over next to the driver’s side yet neither of them was telling the driver that this was a closed military facility and that he needed to move on.

“What’s going on here?”

Neil, the big guy who was known as ‘Arnie’ because he looked a heck of a lot like the actor Schwarzenegger, turned around. “This is my cousin.” He nodded towards the driver. “You all should listen to what he has to say.”

“No, you need him to move his vehicle.”

The other security guard, Tracey, was having none of that: “Yank, let the man talk, will you?”

O’Reilly gave her a foul look. She was an unlikeable woman at the best of times. The way she’d spoken to him now wasn’t going to change his mind at all, just harden it in fact.

“No. Move your vehicle.”

The driver got out of his car instead, leaving inside a woman O’Reilly though was either his wife or girlfriend.

“Do you know what’s happening back down there?” He directed a thumb down the A1065. “There’s people running around ripping each other to pieces. You ain’t never seen anything like it in your life. It’s… it’s… it’s f***ing madness. There’s men, women and kids doing it. Coppers and soldiers are the same too, once they get infected with what everyone else has got.”

“Al Qaeda, like I said.” Quinn had wandered over.

“No, mate, not at all.” The driver was adamant that it wasn’t that. “Look, I don’t know what you lot have heard, what they’ve told you, but there’s some sort of virus. It’s like rabies but not any kind of rabies I’ve seen before.

I’ll tell you what happens. Someone has got it. Their eyes are red and their face is full of rage. Hatred, the psycho kind. They come running at you, fixated on you and bashing themselves against anything in their way too. They start tearing into you with their hands and teeth, ripping people to shreds if they get the chance. Then on to the next one. There’s dozens of bodies back there.”

A squeaky voice came inside the car. “Tell him about the others, Colin, those puking blood.”

“Yeah, like I was saying, there’s squaddies and police doing it now because they’re infected.

Listen, right, because this will save your life.

When they’re not ripping people into bits, they’re throwing up blood in people’s faces. I’ve seen it. With my own eyes. Get that in your face and, within like ten seconds, maybe more, you’re one of them. That’s why there’s kids doing it too. Because it’s an infection. It’s in the blood I think and it’s spreading.”

“This is the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard.” Banks had come over as well. “C’mon, pal. Go tell your fairy tales to someone else and do what the Sarge says and move your car too, okay?”

The driver shook his head. “If you guys stay here on this spot, you’re dead. All those squaddies back there, the dead ones lying in the street and the ones running around looking to kill now, all had their guns and it did them sweet F. A.” He turned to his cousin as he opened his car door. “Neil, are you coming with us? You can bring your friend too if she wants.”

Tracey started getting in the car with that. Neil turned and looked at O’Reilly before he did so. “I’m sorry, but I believe him.” He got in too.

“I knew those two were getting it on.” So Quinn pronounced. “I’ve told you guys that before. Now they’re abandoning their posts and running away together. It’s disgusting, that what it is.”

O’Reilly heard him but opted not to reply. He watched as the car drove away and saw that on the rear of it, there was a lot of red liquid spread across the paint work.

“Is that blood, Billy?”

O’Reilly heard Banks’ question but didn’t answer him either. His eyes were fixed southwards, in the direction of Newmarket. That car had come up the road, one that was supposed to be shut, from there. He could see more smoke.

“Jack,” he cupped his hands to shout up at Young in the Tower, “how’s that fire doing?”

“Bigger, Sarge, much bigger.” He gave his three fellow Defenders a worried look after saying that. “There’s something up at Mildenhall too.”

“What did you say?” O’Reilly had only heard part of that.

Quinn had heard it all though. “He said there’s something going on at Mildenhall as well.”

O’Reilly walked away from the road and back towards the Second Gate with its tower. “If there is, we’d be hearing about it.” He said that when he was close enough to Young so he didn’t have to shout. Maybe the younger airman was about to say something in reply.

Before then though, a siren started to wail. It was in the distance, coming from where Mildenhall was, and sounded like the intruder alert siren. O’Reilly joined his three guys in looking in that general direction, seeing nothing of course.

“Gunfire too!”

“Someone mixed some L.S.D. with some P.C.P. Most likely a chemist working for Bin Laden. Maybe they wanted to make it look like rabies too. Bring down the Free World like that.”

“What an earth are you blabbering on about, Owen?” O’Reilly put his hand up to silence any more nonsense from Quinn. “Tim, you really heard gunfire? I didn’t.”

Banks nodded. “You’ll hear it again in a minute if you just…”

He didn’t finish what he was going to say there. Not when there was automatic gunfire again. Short bursts of fire, the sound carried by the wind. O’Reilly wondered if it was just them hearing it here at Lakenheath. Even if that was the case, Mildenhall was linked to Lakenheath by all sorts of comms links. He took his radio off his belt, intending to call the lieutenant.

“Car!” Young called down. “Coming fast as lightning.”

They all watched as a red sports car raced past the Second Gate, this one coming up from the south as well. It was gone in a flash.

“Are you radioing the L–T, Sarge? Just saying, but you know you ought to.”

“I’m on it, Tim.” He was too though before he did, he had instructions for Banks and Quinn. “Let’s all get back inside the gate before then though.”



Hold fast and await any further orders.

That was what the lieutenant said. Yes, there was something going on down at Mildenhall but from what he’d heard, it wasn’t anything to worry about. Respectfully, because he was talking to an officer, O’Reilly had asked if it wasn’t serious, then why the gunfire? The reply was it wasn’t anything to concern them. Mildenhall’s own Defenders were addressing the situation. As to those at Lakenheath, the general’s earlier orders still stood. The base was in lockdown and that was that.

Young needed a bathroom break and Banks was sent up there to cover him. When the airmen went up, O’Reilly silently chastised himself for not sending Quinn up there. The man was still going on about Al Qaeda using drugs on people to turn them into rabid killers. He had a theory about how they’d spread it all too: black helicopters. O’Reilly shut him up once more with the offended Quinn saying that the history books would prove him right. He could be such a jerk at times.

There was another swapping over who was in the Tower when Young returned, saying sorry for how long he’d taken. He stopped halfway up the ladder and pointed in towards the base where several jeeps were. O’Reilly had seen them too and nodded back at him. Men were climbing into them, all carrying M-16s, and heading in the direction of the Main Gate.

“Whatever is going on, Sarge,” Banks was next to him again, “it’s bad. Those are all ordinary airmen so it must be.”

“I’m not disagreeing, Tim.”

O’Reilly thought about that. Enlisted personnel who worked a variety of jobs across the base, from the highly-skilled aircraft maintenance to the mundane tasks such as cooking & cleaning, were all carrying M-16s. They were all being directed to the Main Gate. They could be staying there or going off to Mildenhall. He didn’t know.

And no one was telling him.

Young gave warnings when first one then a second car drove past coming up from the south. Neither slowed down as they passed the Second Gate. The second had half a dozen people in it, maybe more. Its rear window was missing with someone’s legs hanging out the back.

“Was that guy one of ours? You know, in uniform?”

“I don’t know, Tim.”

“That,” Quinn declared, “was a Brit soldier. This is bad. I’m telling you, this is really bad.”

The siren from Mildenhall was still wailing. O’Reilly and his fellow Defenders heard gunfire again. They all looked up at the sound of an aircraft overhead as well though none of them saw it apart from Young.

“That was the R. A. F. It was a Tornado and, Sarge, it had bombs under the wings and fuselage both.”​

Banks shook his head. “You’re joking right?”

“No, I’m not.” Young called back down. “I really am not.”

“Sarge,” Banks took O’Reilly’s uniform cuff and turned him away from where the two of them were next to Quinn, “what if that guy in the car wasn’t talking rubbish? Shouldn’t you get on to the L–T and ask about it all again? Like see if he’s got an update. We might be able to figure out if what we heard was true or whether that guy was just pulling our chain.”

“Maybe, maybe.” O’Reilly was unsure.

He was thinking about the waitress. He was thinking about Mildenhall. He was thinking too about Neil’s cousin and his insane story.

Some more time went past. Like they were in kindergarten, the others asked in turn to go to the bathroom: first Quinn then Banks. O’Reilly let them go and saw each return. Young had his eyes on more fires raging and shouted down that he was sure that part of Mildenhall was now burning too.

Quinn had an answer for why that was the case: “Al Qaeda.”

“Oh, shut up, Owen!”

A helicopter was up above. It was one of the Hueys out of Lakenheath and it flew away northwards. Of course, it was Quinn who had something to say about it.

“There goes our general. I bet he’s flying to Feltwell,” (that was another US air Force facility nearby), “or one of those airbases that the Brits have.”

“You don’t know that.” Banks had turned on Quinn. “It’s not right you starting rumours like that.”

“Owen, will you just shut up or…”

O’Reilly was cut off from what he was saying by a shout from Young.

“Sarge, you really need to know this.”

He cupped his hands to call back up. “What?”

“There’s a guy on a pedal-bike coming up the road.” Young told him that while with his binoculars up and looking at the A1065, not down to where O’Reilly was. “He’s pedalling like crazy, sweat pouring of him because he’s as fat a house. Oh, and he’s naked too, like in his birthday suit, just for fun it seems.

Two guys are chasing him. I’m mean they’re proper chasing him. I think they’re covered in blood or if not, then they’ve been dipped in a tub of tomato sauce. They’re either on those drugs Owen was on about or they’re as mad as hell because he stole their bike.

All three of them must have gone past the Main Gate. They’re coming this way now, Sarge. Oh, hold on, one of the chasers is a girl. Still, they’re all inbound!”

“Everyone, stand to!” O’Reilly had their attention. “Remember our mission. No one comes through the gate.”

It took less than a minute before the cyclist went past. He wasn’t stark naked as reported. The huge guy – he was otherwise just as Young had reported – had white underpants on. His feet were bare though and bleeding. Past them he went, not even looking their way. His eyes were back over his shoulder instead at the two chasing him.

White Tee and Goldilocks went past the gate too, running at full speed.

O’Reilly gave them those names in his head. The guy had a white t-shirt on and the woman had blond hair. They were fully dressed. They were also covered in blood, an abundance of it. He had a quick look at their faces and saw the madness, the hatred that had been described by the man in the car earlier.

“Angel Dust does that to people, makes ‘em nutters like that.”

Quinn, talking of P.C.P. as part of his Al Qaeda drugs conspiracy theory, said that rather loudly, too loudly in fact.

O’Reilly watched as first Goldilocks and the White Tee following stopped in their tracks. Each had a ninety degree turn to look back at the gate. It was robotic. In turn, each howled. It was unnatural, it was damn disturbing.

Then they came charging towards the gate. White Tee slammed into it first with Goldilocks right behind him. She stumbled at the last moment and fell into it before, quick as a flash, she was up on her feet. Both of them started trying to get inside.

“Back: stand back. This is a closed military facility.”

Banks said that as he started walking forward.

“Don’t you dare.” O’Reilly grabbed his fellow Defender’s collar. “Stay back yourself.”

The gate was two gates in fact, ones which swung inwards to meet each other to close off entrance via the route in. The frames were solid steel and the wire mesh left one-inch gaps. There was razor wire at the top. Cut into the left-hand gate there was a door-sized smaller gate which they had gone out through earlier. It was closed now and against that, White Tee banged his fists, elbow and face. Goldilocks was over to his right with her fingers trying to tear apart the mesh.

Quinn had a whole load of expletives to give in summary to what he was seeing.

Banks stood there open-mouthed but saying no more.

Young called down about a rush of people at the Main Gate.

And O’Reilly? Well, he was just frozen in place.



White Tee howled again and then came the blood. He projectile vomited almost black blood all over the gate and onto the ground beyond.

“It’s like that film. You know the one with the girl and her spinning head.”

“Owen, shut the f*** up!”

O’Reilly screamed at him all while keeping his eyes on the two at the gate. The woman retched too. He looked right into her eyes afterwards. They were red. Now she was chewing at the mesh.

There was the sound of gunfire and then the intruder alert siren sounded. Young called down something but O’Reilly couldn’t hear it, not with the noise coming from behind him and with more howls from the two people in front of him.

“There’s more of them now coming THROUGH the Main Gate, Sarge.”

Banks saying that made O’Reilly turn away from the horrors in front of him and look over to his right in that direction. He couldn’t see anything nor make out through all of those sounds what was happening. Distracted, he missed what Quinn did while he wasn’t watching.

The other Defender approached the gate and pushed the tip of his rifle against the belly of White Tee. He held it out from himself, back from the blood-soaked crazy guy, and fired a single round. The M-16 had semi-auto and automatic capabilities so a single round shot out of the combat rifle was easy to make.

White Tee didn’t go down. He repeated his earlier projectile blood vomiting. Quinn had stepped right back though so none of that came anywhere near him.

“What did you do that for?”

“You told him to stay back and he didn’t. R. O. E. says I can use deadly force in the right circumstances and this was a case of that.”

It had been Banks, not O’Reilly, had instructed the two of them to clear away from the gate. That wasn’t the point though. Quinn shouldn’t have fired.

“Why,” Banks asked with alarm, “hasn’t he gone down? Why is he still standing, Sarge?”

O’Reilly had taken it for granted that White Tee would have fallen. He’d been shot at point blank range in the gut. He should be on the ground. No, instead of that, he was still bashing himself against the gate even with blood pouring out of him.

There was a shout from up where Young was.

“What?”

“Billy,” Young called back down, “there’s got to be ten, twelve of them inside now through the Main Gate. There’re spreading out. We’ve lost. This fight is theirs.” He had his rifle up, pointing it at distant targets.

“Don’t fire!” O’Reilly didn’t want him doing anything foolish like that. The Main Gate was some way off any any shots would be wasted. Between the Tower and there would be a lot of friendlies too.

“Sarge, I’m going shoot this guy again. And Blondie too.”

O’Reilly was going to tell him not to. But White Tee was still bashing himself against the gate. Goldilocks was throwing up blood again, coming from a face that she’d torn apart while trying to chew her way through the fence. What that guy in the car, Neil’s cousin whatshisname had said, came back to him. These people would kill or infect everyone if they got the chance.

“I’ll do her and you do him. Shoot from here, don’t go any closer.”

There it was. There the instruction was given. O’Reilly told himself it had to be done.

O’Reilly’s father was a cop back in Buffalo. He’d told his son plenty of stories in his time about what he’d seen and what he’d done on duty. Nothing had been spared from the young Billy despite his mother’s pleas. He was hardening his son, so the elder O’Reilly had said, making sure that he understood the world as it was, not as it should be. In one of those stories, one which O’Reilly remembered as he pulled the trigger, was one where his father had shot a robbery suspect several times. The man had kept on coming at him. He’d asked why. His father had told him that most people, normal people, when they know they’ve been shot fall to the ground. They’ve seen it on television and, without even thinking about it, they copy that. However, others stay up either because they don’t know they’ve been shot or they fight through the urge to fall… or they are just too damn crazy or high to do the right thing and fall down.

Goldilocks took four rounds before she was on the ground.

O’Reilly hit her each time in the torso. It was the last one that knocked her down where he reckoned he’d shot half her heart out the rear of her back.

White Tee had only needed one round.

“I blew his head off.” Quinn beamed with pride. “Forget the movie about the girl. You guys ever see Night Of The Living Dead? They said ‘shoot ‘em in the head’ and that makes the ones in that film go down.

Acid and Angel Dust meets a Five Point Five Six in the head! What does Bin Laden in his cave say to that, I ask? You know what National Command in D. C. needs to do, what Dubya and Rummy gotta do? They need to hood and shackle some of these lot and drop ‘em out of a Herky Bird over Baghdad!”

It wasn’t that movie. It was another film. O’Reilly knew that Quinn was wrong but who cared at this time? He didn’t. As to the rest of Quinn’s nonsense, he couldn’t give a damn about that either. What. A. Jerk.

The lieutenant was on the radio.

The laid-back officer was long gone.

“Everyone, back to the base hospital! Rally there. I say again, rally there!” There was gunfire which came with that panicked, maddened call.

O’Reilly attempted to reply to the call but got no answer.

“You heard the man.” O’Reilly addressed his guys. “The base hospital it is.”

Quinn stamped his foot on the ground. “I’m going nowhere. We make a stand here.”

Stunned by the sudden insubordination, O’Reilly had no reply.

Banks spoke up instead. “Owen, you heard the L–T and Sarge here has given the order. We go to the hospital. There’ll be people there who need us. Imagine if those lunatics get inside?”

“I’m not moving.” He stamped his feet on the ground again, like the petulant fool he was.

O’Reilly turned his rifle on him, now having decided to force the issue. Quinn opened his mouth to say nothing but didn’t because Young was down off the Tower and beside them, panting heavily.

“Sarge, they’re in the base, running everywhere.” He looked like he was crying. “Vicky and the kids! I’m sorry but I gotta go.”

And off he went.

Young sprinted off, rifle in-hand, deeper into the base. His wife and his two daughters, sweet little girls who everyone liked, lived on base housing. Banks called after him to no avail.

They were down to three with one of them refusing to move.

“Owen, you and Tim are coming with me to the hospital. We got the order from the L–T and that’s what we’re doing.”

Quinn shook his head. “Sarge, that isn’t happening. I’m staying here, staying at my post and not running off. You best stop pointing that rifle at me too if you know what’s good for you.”

O’Reilly balled his fist, ready to knock some sense into the airman. Quinn had turned away though. For the briefest of moments, O’Reilly thought he was going off in the direction of the hospital. However, he started climbing the ladder to the Tower instead.

It started raining just then. O’Reilly felt the first few drops of what seemed like a downpour. He turned to Banks: “You’re coming with me, Tim, right?”

“Of course.”

More rain fell. O’Reilly walked to the bottom of the Tower. He was about to shout up at Quinn to tell him that he was going to be for it when he was all over. The Defender would be busted back to the lowest rank, maybe even drummed out of the Air Force and sent back to his Florida trailer. Unless he came down now that was. The comments were rehearsed but before he made them, there was another howl.

It was Young. He was covered in blood, his rifle nowhere in sight. The airman was some distance off out in the open and slowly getting soaked. He was looking right at O’Reilly and Banks though.

Then he was running at them.

“Jack!”

That was all that O’Reilly could say. He did nothing either.

Banks shot Young several times. He walked rounds up from Young’s groin to his chest. Young fell and slid across the ground. He threw up blood but then lay still and silent.

“Sarge, he was gone two minutes max. Then he was one of them.”

“Erm… I guess so.”

There were more howls. More gunfire was heard too. Oh, and the rain kept on coming as well.

“You heard what Jack said about this fight being lost. He was right.” He gave O’Reilly a resigned look. “If we go inside the base proper, we’re dead. If we stay here, we’re dead too.”

“I’m not going up in that tower with Quinn.”

Banks nodded. “Neither and I, Sarge. Stuff him. I reckon these mad nutters will knock it down with him in it.” He walked over to Young when he said that.

“What are you doing, Tim?”

“Getting his spare ammo.” He said that like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he pointed out beyond the Second Gate. “I suggest that we make a tactical retreat over there, Sarge: a ‘retrograde manoeuvre due to enemy circumstances’ is maybe another way of putting it. We go in those woods and we live to fight another day.”

“I don’t want to run, Tim. It’s not right. I just isn’t… oh, f***.”

Sprinting towards them was a woman. O’Reilly recognised her but couldn’t recall her name. She was an American like them, employed somewhere on the base. She was over there and then suddenly she was on top of Banks. It happened quicker than he could process it. Bank’s rifle went flying and the woman was tearing into his face with her hands.

O’Reilly might have screamed. He was frozen again.

“Run, you idiot!” Quinn shouted that down from the Tower. The woman heard him, looked up and climbed off Banks. She charged the base of the structure, shaking the whole thing. Then she went for the ladder. “Run!” Quinn called out again.

Finally, O’Reilly snapped out of it and regained himself. He did what Banks and Quinn had both told him to do. He ran.

He abandoned his post.



The Thetford Forest was across the A1065. It was an expansive piece of woodland. O’Reilly had been in there before. However, he was a city boy. He was lost pretty quick with no idea if he was heading north, south, east or west. He kept on going deeper into the forest though.

Carrying his rifle, O’Reilly had gone out through the smaller gate cut into the bigger one. He’d done everything possible to keep his hands clear of the blood on it from White Tee then stepped over that fallen man too. Gunfire and the still wailing siren had come from behind him. Two or three people were around the Tower with Quinn firing down at them. They’d been shaking it and O’Reilly had almost gone back to help him. Yet, one of them had come running at him. He’d slammed the gate and it had locked itself. Through the rain he’d run, into the woods like Banks had suggested.

A howl had followed him, urging him forward.

Time passed. O’Reilly followed no trail. He just went onwards, hoping he was getting further away from Lakenheath. Everyone back there was dead or soon to be and he could do nothing. That was what he told himself as he justified running away. What else could he as one man do?

He stopped beside a big tree, leaning against it to catch his breath. Thirst hit him. He had no water on him. O’Reilly’s mind searched for where he might get some. Could he drink straight from a stream – if there was one? He looked for one, trying to listen too.

Then came a scream.

It sounded like a woman. She was in trouble. She shouted too… and then there was a howl.

O’Reilly ran some more, fleeing again as he left people behind in need.

There was a second howl, this time much closer. He looked behind him and saw nothing. To his left was empty too. But on the right, a man was coming his way. The guy fell, got up and kept on coming. Frozen, O’Reilly looked at him. He saw the blood all over him. That was one of them.

O’Reilly shot him. He knelt and aimed, using one bullet to hit the man in the throat. There was a moment of panic when he thought the guy would keep on coming yet it was just his struggles. In death, that man wanted O’Reilly.

“That’s for Tim, and Jack too, you f***er!”

Screaming the insult at the dead man, someone who had nothing to do with their deaths, made O’Reilly feel good. That was gone in an instant though when he saw another figure coming towards him. He raised his rifle but thought of his ammo. He had enough… but what was enough?

O’Reilly started climbing the nearest tree. It was a woman this time, one with no clothes on her bottom half. She had blood on her face and the red eyes he’d seen before. He looked into them while he was above her. The tree was an easy climb for him and he was some distance up. She howled again, threw up some blood all over the trunk and then did something utterly stupid.

Headbutting the tree trunk put her on the ground.

“Are you dead?”

That question fell out of his mouth. He knew it was stupid but couldn’t help asking it.

If she was dead or unconscious, he didn’t know. She wasn’t going to tell him.

Staying where he was, O’Reilly looked down at her. There was a lot more blood than before. He snapped off a few twigs and dropped them. A few hit her with no reaction.

“Stuff it!” Down he went, quick and quiet. She didn’t move.

O’Reilly started running again. Where too and for how long he didn’t know.

He just kept on moving through the rain.​
 
Interesting to see the perspective of USAF personnel assigned to Britain. I always wondered what they would have been doing. Would they have supported the British military and become casualties themselves? Or would Bush have ordered their immediate withdrawal to prevent the loss of American lives? Or would these assets have been tasked of evacuating American citizens currently residing or visiting the UK, in addition to civilian dependents on the base?

Good job @jhenderson 20 !
 
I imagine once the scale of the problem became know on day 3-4 then all American personnel, Embassy staff, and civilans that could be found would be getting airlifted off if possible.

Same with the Embassy staff from various global countries- I expect skies to be filled with choppers and planes into Ireland or mainland Europe in the early days regardless of air traffic control before the lock down.

The rolling wave of disaster up the country would have seen boats, ferries, barges, anything put into service to reach Ireland or Norway. I suspect island communities in Scotland like Orkney, or Rum, or similar like the Isle of Man being overwhelmed and the guns coming out to get rid of boats after the first batches had been taken but the people kept coming.

Unlike WWZ, there are no safe zones on mainland Britain due to the fact a bird can bring RAGE to you...
 
Unlike WWZ, there are no safe zones on mainland Britain due to the fact a bird can bring RAGE to you...
By that logic nowhere would be safe from the Rage virus if birds could reliably spread the disease, birds however cannot be infected by the disease.

If the bird has been eating rage infected corpse, then yes its possible that you can get RAGE, but the odds are that happening is statistically slim, we saw in the Scotland outbreak that it was nothing more than a freak accident because the crow with infected blood on it was shot by a kid with a BB gun and unintentionally crashed onto someones head, allowing a single drop of infected blood to enter that persons eye...

Had that crow just crashed somewhere else, its highly doubtful that the outbreak would have occurred.
 
By that logic nowhere would be safe from the Rage virus if birds could reliably spread the disease, birds however cannot be infected by the disease.

If the bird has been eating rage infected corpse, then yes its possible that you can get RAGE, but the odds are that happening is statistically slim, we saw in the Scotland outbreak that it was nothing more than a freak accident because the crow with infected blood on it was shot by a kid with a BB gun and unintentionally crashed onto someones head, allowing a single drop of infected blood to enter that persons eye...

Had that crow just crashed somewhere else, its highly doubtful that the outbreak would have occurred.
True!

But if it can happen once…
 
I imagine once the scale of the problem became know on day 3-4 then all American personnel, Embassy staff, and civilans that could be found would be getting airlifted off if possible.

Same with the Embassy staff from various global countries- I expect skies to be filled with choppers and planes into Ireland or mainland Europe in the early days regardless of air traffic control before the lock down.

The rolling wave of disaster up the country would have seen boats, ferries, barges, anything put into service to reach Ireland or Norway. I suspect island communities in Scotland like Orkney, or Rum, or similar like the Isle of Man being overwhelmed and the guns coming out to get rid of boats after the first batches had been taken but the people kept coming.

Unlike WWZ, there are no safe zones on mainland Britain due to the fact a bird can bring RAGE to you...
By that logic nowhere would be safe from the Rage virus if birds could reliably spread the disease, birds however cannot be infected by the disease.

If the bird has been eating rage infected corpse, then yes its possible that you can get RAGE, but the odds are that happening is statistically slim, we saw in the Scotland outbreak that it was nothing more than a freak accident because the crow with infected blood on it was shot by a kid with a BB gun and unintentionally crashed onto someones head, allowing a single drop of infected blood to enter that persons eye...

Had that crow just crashed somewhere else, its highly doubtful that the outbreak would have occurred.
True!

But if it can happen once…
Regarding the embassies, one chapter had a ATL version of the Benghazi Incident when then Secretary of State Colin Powell recalled how they could not evacuate the U.S. Ambassador, the Embassy Marines, DSS, and some of the staff due to the lack of transport. The FCO was busy dealing coordianting with other embassies to get their citizens out of Britain and the State Department could not provide anything at the moment. The last thing Washington heard is that the Embassy got breached.

When the U.S. Army came six months later, they found that the Ambassador and the remaining personnel actually committed suicide as food and supplies ran out.

The Bush administration and Powell took a hit on how the U.S. Embassy in London wasn't evacuated on time.
----
As for birds, it was mentioned in the tie-in comics that the French were actually culling migratory birds landing in the coast. Their fears were indeed realized (to us viewers) as we saw how Frank became infected due to a dead crow with infected blood on its beak. For this version, an asymptomatic crow that was show by a bored kid with a BB gun that so happened to land on a woman's face.
 
Since we’re all patiently waiting on the next entry in the 28 Days Later universe coming out at some point, I decided to write something on this thread for the first time in a while to pass the time. A short story following the first hours of the outbreak. Not sure where I’ll go with it , but nonetheless here goes:

Cambridge , England , 8:57 pm, 4th May 2002

“There must be a reason they make their coffees so bloody hot.” Paul said wishing he had a glass of water to sooth his burning tongue.

“Poor baby , would you like me to take you back for an ice cream to cool it down?” His colleague Mark mocked.

“Piss off.” Paul said with a laugh “besides the ice cream machine is probably buggered again anyway.”

“Ah well if police work doesn’t work out you can always apply for McDonalds and show them how to make a perfect temperature coffee.” Mark shrugged. Mark was the driver tonight, he’d parked them up in a quiet car park near McDonalds so they could enjoy their break in peace. Night shifts always dragged in, unless it was weekends when there were always plenty of calls to deal with drunken shenanigans.

Mark checked his watch. 9:00 pm. Only seven hours to go till clocking out time. His wife and daughter would be in bed by now. He and Emma had been married for sixteen years and had a nine year old daughter who was growing up to be a bright young lady . He felt incredibly lucky, but sometimes he really wished he could spend less time at work and more time with his family, but he had a job to do.

“Been a quiet one so far Mark. Fingers crossed it keeps that way.” Paul said, blowing at his coffee before taking another sip.

“You’ve bloody jinxed it now , lad. Never say it’s quiet !” Mark said in a mocking stern tone.

As if to confirm his superstition over calling a night “quiet”, the radio suddenly came to life .

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 from Sierra Oscar, are you receiving , over?” The voice said over the radio, Sergeant Graham sounded a little jumpy tonight, which was somewhat worrying as the guy always had his shit together.

“Sierra Oscar 2-1, receiving, over.” Mark said, pressing the button on the radio , giving Paul a “told you so” look.

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 , we have reports of a serious disturbance near the university. Six separate 999 calls reporting people smashing windows and attempting to assault passers by . The first report came from Main Drive near the university’s Department of Pathology. Check out that area first. Not many details other than that I’m afraid , can you proceed and check it out ? Over.” The sergeant said over the radio.

“All received Sierra Oscar, heading over there now. Over.” Mark said over the radio barely covering up his sigh.

“Paul you’re a fucking jinx mate.” Mark laughed “how many times?You never ever say it’s a quiet night.” Mark at 42 years of age had been with Cambridgeshire Constabulary since he was 30 years old , whilst Paul had only been on the beat a little over 6 months having joined shortly after his 25th birthday and was still very much the rookie.

Paul just chuckled to himself and wolfed down the last of his cheeseburger. Mark put the car in gear and fired the lights up. “Let’s get this shitcan on the move shall we?”


The streets were relatively quiet, so there was no need to put the sirens on to clear traffic. The blue lights lit up the darkened doorways of homes as they sped through the quiet roads of Cambridge until they reached the university. Mark slowed the car to a crawl as he drove down the road past the pathology department. No signs of any incidents .

“I swear , see if this is another bloody prank call.” he started.

“Wait a sec, check the doors out.” Paul pointed to the double front doors at the pathology department entrance. The glass on them had been smashed and there seemed to be blood on the ground.

“Sierra Oscar from Sierra Oscar 2-1, we’re at the university. Be advised there are signs of some kind of incident here. Smashed glass and blood. Going to investigate further , over.” Mike keyed the radio.

“All received, Sierra 2-1.” The radio came back.

Both officers stepped out of the car and walked up the stairs to the smashed doors with the torches on.

“No sign of anyone.” Paul said as he pulled the handle and opened the door, his feet crunching on the broken glass below. The hallway ahead was in darkness, only the light of the torches lit up the darkness as eerie shadows cast over the walls. The silence was deafening.

“Some creepy shit right here mate.” Paul said in barely a whisper as they gingerly made their way down the hallway, their booted footsteps echoing in the night.

“Yeah you’re not wrong. Hang on a second, what’s this ?” Mark said as he swung his light over an ajar door marked “Laboratory #1 Authorized personnel only” . Mark used his torch to push the ajar door fully open . Both men stood in bafflement at the scene before them. Blood soaked the floor- and some of the walls - that was the first thing they noticed. The chimps banging away in glass cages came a close second as they screeched like banshees. Another one was tied to a table watching a bank of tv monitors that were showing looped footage of wars and riots. Next to one of the cages was a dead chimp with a set of blood drenched bolt cutters next to it.

“What in the fuck happened in here ?” Paul asked in astonishment.

“God knows, but I’m guessing some of those animal rights types had something to do with it. They were protesting here the other week. Right I’m gonna radio this in.” Mark didn’t get a chance to continue as a high pitched scream emitted from outside.

“The fuck?” Both men said at the same time.

“Let’s move.” Mark led the way as both officers ran back outside to the sound of the scream. Someone needed help.

Perhaps fifty yards away, there was a figure standing in the middle of the road. The flashing blue lights of the police car cast a creepy light over the person. They were standing facing away from the officers with their shoulders hunched over and fists balled up as though incredibly tense. On the ground was another person who was not moving , in the darkness it was impossible to see their condition.

“Excuse me ?” Mark shouted to the person as he aimed his torch at them, lighting up the back of their head. The person spun around at incredible speed. Mark's light fell upon the man’s face. A face of pure hate, twisted and angry. Eyes a deep, dark red with blood leaking out his tear ducts and his nose. His white lab coat was covered in blood.

“Jesus Christ.” Paul said, instinctively taking a step back. The man let out a guttural growl and charged , his arms flailing at his sides.

“Stop where you are and get on the ground !” Paul ordered the man, who paid him no heed and continued to charge at them.

“Shit.” Mark said as he drew his baton and prepared for a fight. The guy running at him moved in almost inhuman ways, he looked unnatural. Mark swung his baton and connected with the man’s jaw, sending him spinning to the ground. He spat out several teeth and jumped back to his feet, seemingly not even noticing his broken jaw. The look of pure hate in his eyes was terrifying.

He attempted to grab Mark, who ducked out the way with a second to spare. He tripped over the curb, giving Mark and Paul just enough time to pin him to the ground and get the handcuffs on him. He gnashed his remaining teeth like a rabid dog and made all manner of growling and snarling sounds.

“Easy mate, stop resisting and it’ll be easier on everyone.” Mark said as he held the man down and directed Paul to check on the person down the road who was lying unresponsive. Paul quickly checked for a pulse and came back and shook his head.

“She’s dead. This fucker ripped her throat clean open. Looks like he used his teeth.” Paul said as he struggled not to vomit.

“Teeth?” Mark said in astonishment , then turned back to the man on the ground who was still thrashing about in his handcuffs “I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder, you do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence when questioned , something which you later rely on in court, anything you do say may be given in evidence.” The wild man on the ground didn’t care, or perhaps didn’t even hear Mark.

“Drugs?” Paul asked as he helped Mark wrestle the man into the back of the police car.

“Twelve years on the job and I’ve seen drugs do some crazy stuff, but nothing like this.” Mark said as he placed a spit hood on the man’s head. He kept spitting blood in their direction and he didn’t want to risk getting any on them.

“Honestly not paid enough for this crap.” Mark mumbled to himself before getting back on the radio.

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 to Sierra Oscar, we’ve apprehended a male at the university on suspicion of murder. There’s a body of a female on the road outside the pathology department.”

“All received Sierra Oscar 2-1, bring him in. Try and get back sharpish. We have a few more calls we’re going to need you to attend to. Seems like something is kicking off tonight, over.”

“All received Sierra Oscar, over.”

Upon arrival at the station, another four officers had to come out and help Mark and Paul move the man from the car and through the station into an empty cell. The man howled and thrashed around the entire way. Attempts to communicate were pointless. The cuffs were taken off at the cell door and the hood removed before he was given a rather violent shove forward and the door locked behind him. The man screamed and banged at the door incessantly as Mark and Paul walked away and took a five minute breather in the staff canteen.

“Well, that was fucked up.” Paul said.

“Agreed. Wonder what the hell was wrong with him?” Mark pondered, “I haven’t seen anything like that. I mean yeah I’ve seen some shady stuff go on in a crack den and whatnot, but that stuff back there was next level. You know what mate? I think I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“You’ve got a good fifteen years before you can retire.” Paul said with a laugh “You’re not abandoning me just yet I’m afraid.”

Mark scoffed “Don't bloody remind me. Anyway, dunno what you’re laughing about, you've got at least 25 years to go yet young man.”

Another officer strolled into the cafeteria holding a cup of tea. William Brogue, affectionately known as Big Bob despite him being the shortest copper in the station.

“Who’s the nutter down in the cells? He’s banging away like a man possessed” Bob asked as he sipped his tea.

“Some mental case we picked up tonight at the university. Killed some poor bird, tore her neck open with his teeth and left her for dead.” Paul said .

“Fuck off, for real?” Bob asked, astonished.

“Yep. Looks like the guy is one of the staff. He was wearing a lab coat anyway. It was honestly like something out of a horror film, his eyes were red like the devil himself had possessed him or something.” Mark said “Weirdest shit I’ve seen on the job, I’ll tell you that.”

“Red eyes? Prince and Jen were just sent to a call out a few minutes ago. Two people were running around off their rocker not that far from the university, apparently their eyes were all red and bleeding and shit. You reckon it’s some new drug the young ones are on?” Bob asked.
“Wait, there’s more of these people out there?” Mark asked Bob and exchanged a look with Paul.

“Well, sounds like it.” Bob shrugged.

“What it sounds like is we’re in for a long bloody night.” Paul sighed.

“Lads?” The sergeant popped his head around the door “Good job getting that nutter brought in. I’d like to have drug tests run on him but I’m not risking anyone going in there and getting hurt. Got an ambulance coming out to check him out and get the guy sedated . Anyway, we might have more of these mental cases on the loose. Jen and Prince are out investigating a call, but I’m needing you two to go out and patrol the area around the university and keep an eye on things , see if you see anyone acting weird.”

“Yes, sarge.” They said in unison.

“No rest for the wicked boys, have fun.” Bob said as he finished his cup of tea “almost clocking out time for me, thank fuck.” He said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, not bad for some.” Mark said without so much as looking back as they headed back out the car. The streets were still quiet luckily, the occasional taxi passed by, but that was it. Night Shift was always a pleasure to drive in.

The chatter over the radio started to become a bit concerning over the next half hour. Three separate calls for assistance from officers reporting assaults in progress. One officer requesting medical assistance before going completely radio silent. Then a call came through for Mark and Paul to assist an ambulance crew on Mill Lane who had reported being attacked whilst dealing with an RTC. Mark had been right, it was going be a long night.

Their flashing blue lights once again illuminated the darkened and narrow streets . Just up ahead was a Ford Fiesta that had clashed into a lamppost. The hazard lights were on and the front drivers door was open. In front of that was the ambulance they had been sent to assist. It’s light we’re flashing away and back doors wide open. The two cops exited the car and approached the scene cautiously. The airbag had inflated in the car but the driver had managed to exit, though there was no sign of him in the ambulance. There was no sign of anyone in fact, but a tipped over and blood stained gurney lay in the middle of the road between the crashed car and the ambulance.

“Mark, tonight is just going from one level of weird to another.” Paul said as he searched the back of the ambulance. Nobody there.

“No bloody kidding. This is giving me bad vibes mate.” Mark said as searched the crashed car for any clues.

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 to Sierra Oscar, we’re at the site of the incident. One crashed car, no sign of the occupants. Also one ambulance and no sign of the crew. Over.” Mark said into the radio. Before he could hear the reply from Ops there was a crash behind him. A man had run into a bin and sent the contents scattering all over the road as empty coke cans and crisp packets spread all over . Paul instinctively went to go and assist until Mark grabbed him back.

“Look at his eyes.” Mark said as the man got back to his feet. They were red, just like the other lunatic. The man glared at the two cops but before he could charge them he doubled over in agony and began to vomit. He was projectile vomiting blood all over the street.

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 to Sierra Oscar, we have someone vomiting blood at our location. He seems to be afflicted by whatever issue that other guy we brought in has. How do you want us to proceed? Over.” Mark said over the radio. Before a reply could come, the man had stopped vomiting and gotten back to his feet. He roared and balled his first and sprinted like an Olympic athlete at Paul, who lifted a foot and stuck it right in his crotch , sending him reeling to the ground.

“Stay on the bloody ground !” Paul ordered the man, who paid no heed as he started to get back up.

“Fuck , watch out !” Mark yelled. Paul spun around to see two people running down the road from behind them. Both wore paramedics uniforms which were drenched in blood. For a split second Paul and Mark felt a sense of relief, but that relief quickly dissipated when they saw their angry red eyes.

“Fuck this, back in the car. Move !” Mark yelled to Paul who wasted no time complying. The second the doors were slammed shut all three of the attackers were upon the car banging upon the windows. One of the paramedics vomited blood over the windscreen making it impossible to see as Mark tried to navigate the narrow streets with an insane man vomiting blood all over the car and any amount of intensive driving courses does not prepare you for that. Eventually he managed to shake the guy off and put the wipers on to clear the window. It was nothing short of a miracle they didn’t crash during all that chaos.

“Nah this is fucked up man, I didn’t sign up for this shit.” Paul practically yelled, his heart pounding like a drum.

Mark said nothing. He had always been cool and collected but tonight’s events had shocked him to his core. This was not normal. What the hell was going on ?

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 to Sierra Oscar, the two paramedics we were sent to help just tried to kill us! I’ve no idea what’s going on but the streets are not safe! Advise all units to proceed with caution.”

“All received Sierra Oscar 2-1, we’re getting some really weird calls coming through on our end about people going off the deep end . Could you do me a favour and check up on PC Mattis and PC Ellis? Their last known location was Colby Lane responding to a potential domestic disturbance and they’re no longer in communication. Over.”


“Received, we’ll check up on them now. Over.” Mark really didn’t want to do anything that involved being out on the streets at that point , but he couldn’t leave his colleagues out there potentially needing help.

“They were sent on a call out to check up on a report of someone running amok with red eyes, Big Bob told us.” Paul said as he scanned the empty streets for any more surprises.

“Shit that’s right. God I really don’t want to deal with any more of these nutjobs tonight.” Mark shook his head. One thing they both were noticing was the previously quiet night was giving way to an increasing number of emergency sirens. It hadn’t been noticeable at first , but now they were a near constant presence in the air. In the space of five minutes they saw four ambulances, two fire engines and three police vans scream by in all different directions. How long before the higher ups would need to call in help from outside if this kept up ?

They turned into Colby Lane and it was immediately clear something was wrong. Smoke was billowing out of a kitchen window from one house and there was a car smashed through someone’s living room wall three doors down from that. Parked up at the side of the road was PC Jenny Ellis and PC Harry Mattis’ car. There was no sign of them until Mark brought the car a bit closer and saw a body lying next to the empty police car . PC Mattis was dead. His face was covered in blood but his bright ginger hair gave it away it was Harry. His nickname at the station had been “Prince” on account of him being a ginger man named Harry. Go figure.

From the house to the right, the front door burst open and a woman came sprinting down the path towards the front gate. Mark made ready to speed off until he realised he recognised the person . Jenny Ellis was running for the car, and it was a look of fear in her eyes , not hate. She was normal.

“Get fucking moving!” She screamed as she ran towards the car as two people bolted out the house behind her in hot pursuit, blood dripping from their mouths. She practically ripped open the back door in the car and dived in, slamming it shut behind her. The two people who had bounced out the house after her were seconds too late and gave up chasing the car soon after .

“Jenny, the hell is going on? What happened to Prince?” Mark asked.

“It was supposed to be a ‘domestic’ , was it fuck. We got here and the street was in chaos. I went up to the house , Prince tried to talk to the residents outside. Everything went tits up after that.” Jenny said as she broke down sobbing. “I can’t believe he’s dead. How can this be happening?”

“It’s not your fault, love. You couldn’t have done anything. Let’s get back to the station and figure out our arseholes from our elbows. We are way over our heads here.” Mark replied and he radioed ahead to Control to let them know the situation.

Paul said nothing, he stared numbly out the window. He barely registered the kebab shop on fire as they passed it. Two fire engines sat outside the burning kebab shop with their lights on and engines running and hoses lying all over the wet road but no firefighters in sight. An ambulance lay on its side a little further down the street, smashed glass littering the road. Was that blood mixing with the water on the road ? Paul didn’t have time to get a proper look. What the hell had happened ? Again, Mark radioed it in, but he felt at this point it was a fruitless endeavour.

During the fifteen minute drive back to the station, more and more panicked calls filled the radio airwaves, some were cut off mid scream. Whatever was going on was far from normal.

When they arrived back at the station, the Chief Inspector was on the scene having been woken up by an urgent call to come to work. Chief Inspector William Gates called all officers currently in the station into the Briefing Room. There were a notable number of missing faces from the night shift crew that should have been there.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen, thanks for coming. I understand some of you have had some rather unpleasant experiences tonight, so I thank you for all your hard work. Unfortunately there’s more of that to come from what I can see. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with tonight, other than the first reports of incidents came from the university at just before 2100 last night, so about three and a bit hours ago. Since then we’ve been inundated with reports of people in a delirious or drugged up state running riot in the streets. As of now I can confirm we have sadly lost five of our officers to this violence. Harry Mattis, Richard Hillside, Mohammed Ghani, Samantha Dodgson and Ian Fraiser have been killed.” Gasps and sobs filled the briefing room before the Inspector continued “On top of that, we have eleven other officers who are missing and have been out of communication for over two hours. We’re not giving up on them and unless we find a body we won’t be assuming anything worse than a communications issue has happened to them yet. In terms of civilian casualties, we don’t have any definitive number yet but we’re looking at at least twenty people dead. Currently we don’t have an official understanding of what’s behind tonight’s events, but I can confirm we are looking into a potential biological source of what’s happening. We won’t have more answers for a few hours unfortunately. Obviously this is a situation that is completely new to us all, none of us have dealt with violence on this scale before, but I have my confidence in each and every one of you that you will represent Cambridgeshire Constabulary to the utmost of your capabilities. Thank you.” The inspector left the room to attend to other matters, leaving the perhaps 25 officers in the room shocked to their core. Five dead, a dozen missing? Not to mention twenty dead members of the public.

“Mark, what the fuck is happening ?” Paul asked in horror “I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

“Yeah this is new territory for me too, lad.” Mark said as he stood up from his chair “let's go see what the sarge wants us to do.”

“Hopefully not going back out there.” Paul muttered under his breath.

The sergeant came out of the control room and threw an empty Red Bull can into the bin.

“Glad to see you too are ok. How’s Jenny?” Sergeant Graham asked motioning over to the young female officer who had her head in her hands at a table on the other side of the room.

“Physically she’s fine, but after what she went through tonight.” Paul said then shrugged “I think it’s best to send her home.”

“Yeah I think so. I’ll see what she wants to do, but we really do need all hands on deck tonight” the sergeant said, looking over at the traumatised officer. “Anyway lads, it’s a shit show we have right now and frankly nobody knows what to do. The Chief Inspector has already been on the phone to the Chief Constable and he’s trying to get in support from neighbouring forces. I’m told he’s in touch with the Home Office about what’s happening. We’re sending out the heavies tonight. Got the riot lads gearing up to head into the breach and we’re bringing in the morning shift early too.”

“What do you need us to do? Because the things we had to deal with out there tonight are honestly a bit beyond our capabilities quite frankly.” Mark said “We signed up to serve the public, we didn’t sign up to be ripped limb from limb, sarge.”

“I know, I know.” Sergeant Graham was more sympathetic than Mark had expected “The plan is to set up roadblocks and form a cordon around the affected areas. We don’t need heroes though, no unnecessary risks are to be taken. If you feel your lives are at risk, you are to return back to the station. We’re also handing out these as a precaution.” The sergeant produced a packet of face masks and latex gloves.

“The fuck is this sarge?” Paul asked in bewilderment.

“The way these people are vomiting and bleeding all over everything is worrying. Some of the ambulance guys are worried it could be something contagious.” Sergeant Graham said “They dropped these masks and gloves off for us to use.”

“Contagious? What, they think this is some kind of sickness?” Mark asked .

“Just a working theory now. Better to be safe than sorry. For all we know this could be some souped up version of rabies going about.” Graham said.

“Well it did start near the Pathology Department at the university.” Paul offered up. “Plus that nutter we brought in was some kind of scientist judging by the lab coat.”

“That’s a good point. With all this shit that’s being happening tonight I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to follow up on that and let the higher ups know, you could be onto something there. Right, take these gloves and masks and put them on when you go out there. I need you to head to the junction between Huntingdon Road and Castle Street. We’re setting up one of our roadblocks there to keep these lunatics from going any further north. Other units are setting up to the east and west of your position. Ideally we’d like you to hold your positions until we can get the riot lads ready and into the fight. Are you up for it?”

“Yes sarge.” Both men said, though the lack of enthusiasm was evident.

“Thanks , I know it’s a big ask after losing five of our own. It’s appreciated.” Sergeant Graham said as he slinked back into the control room, whilst Mark and Paul quickly finished their coffees and went back out to the car.

Ten minutes later they pulled up at the roadblock on Castle Street. Things seemed calm for now, but who knew how long that would last ? Two police vans and three police cars had blockaded the road whilst ten officers made sure nobody passed who shouldn’t be passing, which really consisted of shining a torch into people's facing to make sure they didn’t have red eyes and drooling blood. Most of the civilians passing through the roadblock were terrified residents fleeing the violence that was shattering local neighbourhoods. Tearful people told stories of loved ones suddenly turning violent and attacking people.

“So far, so good.” Paul said to Mark as he scanned the street ahead. The roads were quiet and the few people who were on the street were clearly regular people trying to get away from the violence, not add to it.

“Yeah, but I think our peace will be shattered soon.” Mark said in a none too hopeful tone as he pointed down the street. Paul looked to where his friend pointed and saw shadows moving down the street, flames licking up from a burning car made the shadows look bigger than whatever was casting them. It was an eerie sight. It was the sounds these people made as they approached which brought utter dread to the officers manning the blockade. Growling, guttural , sometimes gurgling noises mixed in with angry roars. They didn’t sound human. It was terrifying.

“We’re about to be in a world of shit.” Mark said bluntly.

“Let’s kick some arses.” Paul said as he readied his baton.

“Stop where you are !” Marks' voice boomed alongside his colleagues to no avail as the baying maniacs came ever closer. The first one slid right over the bonnet of one of the police cars and made a beeline for Paul, who sidestepped the man and kicked him in the ribs , forcing him to the ground. Mark and another officer helped to get the wild man under control and handcuffed, and it took an almost Herculean effort to wrestle the man into the back of one of the police vans. After slamming the door, the growling and banging from inside the van was incessant. As Mark and Paul collected themselves, they saw the other officers manhandling another one of the crazies into the back of the van at great effort. It was sheer luck none of the coppers had been injured in the melee.

“What’s wrong with these people, man?” Paul said as he tried to catch his breath after the struggle.

“Focus mate, here’s more coming.” Mark said as several people sprinted down the street towards their roadblock. One of them was a naked woman of around seventy. She ran at incredible speeds for a woman of her age, which had clearly caught one of the officers off guard as the two tumbled to the ground together as she tried to claw and punch at his face. Another officer forcibly removed her from his colleague and threw her down violently on the road where she smacked her head hard on the concrete. Dead or unconscious? It was impossible to know or even care at that point as the recently assaulted officer started screaming in agony and shouting that he was burning up. A colleague tried to lift him to his feet whilst the others tried to fight off the group that was trying to storm the roadblock. It was pure pandemonium. A few well placed baton hits had sent the attackers reeling, but that only brought a few moments reprieve as the copper in distress suddenly plunged a thumb into the other officer's eyes , leading to a sickening popping sound and a screech of agony.

“What the hell are you doing ?” Mark roared as he pulled the deranged copper off . The officer in question was Tommy Metcalf and was certainly not known for his eye gouging proficiency. Mark didn’t have time to think about the what’s or the whys, he just had to separate these two before any worse injuries could occur. Mark forced Tommy to the ground face down and held his hands behind his back , but it was difficult to keep him in place. Suddenly , the officer with the gouged eye was back on his feet and was drooling blood. He let out a guttural roar and charged Mark. Paul tackled him to the ground just in time before scrambling back to his feet and running over to Mark.

“Mate, fuck it let’s get out of here!” Paul said grabbing Mark and dragging him off of the deranged Tommy Metcalf in an effort to get him back to their patrol car. Everything seemed to be just happening so fast. In addition to the insane civilians attacking the other now six officers manning the roadblock, they had to contend with two of their own suddenly trying to kill them.

“Ok lads, fuck this. Run for it !” Mark shouted to the other officers manning the roadblock as they tried in vain to hold back the attackers. The defence finally collapsed as the coppers scattered and tried to get back in their vehicles, only to have their windows smashed and dragged out kicking and screaming. Only Mark and Paul managed to get back in their car and actually speed off without being savaged.

“Sierra Oscar - we have six officers down, repeat six officers down, two others joining in with the attackers. We’re getting out of this shit show. We’re heading back to the station.” Mark practically screamed over the radio as he sped through the streets , avoiding people who were running everywhere. Some appeared to be chasing others, some were fleeing for their lives. In the chaos it was often impossible to tell who was fleeing and who was attacking.

“Jesus” the voice of the sergeant sounded faint “roger that . Come back in, over.”

The next ten minutes was relatively uneventful as they made their way back to the station. The calls over the radio grew ever more desperate. Units being pushed back, officers screaming for back up, desperate pleas for help . It was horrific to listen to.

As they pulled into the police station car park, six large police vans with mesh grills on their windows pulled away with their lights flashing as the riot police headed into the breach. Mark considered for the briefest of moments starting smoking again as they got out of the car, but pushed the thought from his head. His nerves were shot.

“You alright, mate?” Mark asked Paul, who was staring off into space.

“Yeah I’m ok. Just really need a rest” Paul said. Even experienced coppers like Mark hadn’t seen anything like this before, so for a rookie like Paul , tonight’s events were just beyond the pale.

“Let’s go on. Get a cuppa and hopefully have time to sit down for five minutes.” Mark said as he led the way back into the police station.

Sergeant Graham greeted them at the door as they walked in.

“Thank fuck you two made it at least. What a bloody mess. Head into the briefing room. The CI is in there now.”

The two merely nodded and headed in, lost in their own thoughts.

The briefing room was significantly emptier than it had been earlier on in the night. At least twenty faces that should have been there were missing. The rest of the officers in the room looked exhausted and some looked close to mentally broken.

The Chief Inspector cleared his throat and spoke up : “Right , I guess that’s pretty much everyone then. I’m not going to beat around the bush here. We are up shit creek without a paddle. Never mind a paddle we don’t have a fucking canoe. I wish I could give you an answer. I don’t have any. I don’t know how many of our guys are dead. I don't know how many have gone over to the other side, whatever that side is. I don’t know what’s causing all this. All I know is if we're up to our necks in it and we’re all going to have to look out for each other in the coming hours and days. We have our public order units deploying into the worst areas now to try and contain this , so for the time being you’re being pulled off the streets as frankly sending you guys out there without adequate protective gear is tantamount to suicide. I'll be needing you to help direct traffic, protecting shelters which the council are setting up for folk displaced from their homes and things like that. Any questions ?”

“Sir, we’ve spoken to a few paramedics and they all reckon this looks like some kind of infection. What do you think?” A young female officer asked. Her eyes were puffy from crying. She’d not long found out her close friend had been killed in the violence.

“I don’t know. I’ve been told that doctors over at Addenbrookes are running tests on people we brought in to them and that’s certainly the working theory over there, but I’ve had no official confirmation on that yet. To be on the safe side though I’d urge you all to utilise the face masks and gloves you’ve been handed if you do come in contact with any of these people though.”

“Are other forces coming in to help us ?” Another officer asked from the back of the room.

“I’ve been speaking to the Chief Constable, he says we’re going to get support from Thames Valley and the Met at some point in the morning. Until then we’re on our own.”

“Sir, there’s a lot of empty chairs in here.” Paul said , leaving that hanging in the air.

The Chief Inspector looked down for a second , before looking back up and meekly nodding and sighing “I know, I know. A lot of our friends made the ultimate sacrifice tonight. Too many. We will get justice for them, I promise you that. Okay, I’ve got to go and phone the Chief Constable again. Keep up the good work, and stay safe.”

The officers filed out of the room and into the canteen. They’d earned a coffee and a sandwich and a sit down for a few minutes at least , they are only human after all.

“I’m worried about Emma and Sophie.” Mark said, tapping his fingers on the table before checking his watch : 1:09 am. “They’ll be asleep at this time . They’ll have no idea what’s going on.”

“They’ll be fine mate. This shit isn’t happening near your house.” Paul said, taking a bite from his cheese and ham sandwich.

“For now, but what if this thing spreads further? I mean what if it is some kind of infection ? This isn’t normal rioting.”

Paul nodded “Yeah, I get you. You want to go and check on them ?”

“The brass will have a fit if we leave during a crisis of this scale.” Mark shook his head in frustration.

“We could go and come back. It’s hardly abandoning our posts. We’ll be gone half an hour at worst.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” Mark made up his mind. As they stepped out of the station, the acrid smell of smoke was evident. Something was on fire not far away. Sirens filled the night air and didn’t seem to end. This situation was still escalating.

Paul took a turn driving and navigated the still quiet streets of Cambridge as they headed for Mark's house on the outskirts of town. In the space of ten minutes they passed by six corpses lying in bloody heaps on the ground along with several wrecked cars and smashed windows in shops and homes, but as they got further into the outskirts , things looked better. The violence hadn’t reached this part of Cambridge yet.

All the lights in Mark's home were off as they pulled into the driveway of his three bedroom semi detached house. Even here, a good few miles from where the worst of the violence was happening, the smell of smoke drifting over from the city centre was still evident, and the sound of distant sirens was audible for anyone listening.

Mark quietly unlocked the front door and walked in the house with Paul , closing the door behind him. He crept upstairs as quiet as possible and into the bedroom he shared with Emma. She slept peacefully on her side , and it pained him to have to wake her up when she looked so content.

“Emma, babe. Time to wake up.” Mark said as he gently shook her.

“What?” She mumbled as her eyes flickered open “What time is it ?”

“About half past one in the morning.”

“What are you getting me up at this time for you ?” She asked, perhaps more harshly than she intended.

“Something bad is going on. It started as rioting, but it’s worse than that. People are killing each other. The city centre is basically a war zone. I had to come back and make sure you and Sophie are ok.” Mark said as he stroked her hair .

“Why? What’s causing it?” She asked, more alert now .

“Not a clue. Some of the lads at the station reckon it is a kind of sickness that’s going around. Some sort of infection that drives you loopy. We’ve lost a few of our own tonight. More than a few. Good mates…good mates just…gone.” Mark said, barely believing his own words. It didn’t feel real.

“Jesus, that's awful. Thank god you’re ok though, that’s the main thing. So what do we do? Sophie has school in the morning. We can’t wake her up at this time.” Emma rubbed her eyes as she sat up in bed.

“Nobody is going to school tomorrow. Pretty sure the council will have them all closed. Besides, a few schools are being turned into shelters for people forced to leave their homes.” Mark said as he started to stand up “Look, Paul’s downstairs waiting on me, we’re going to have to head back to the station . I just had to make sure you were safe and let you know what was happening. When we go out I need you to lock the door behind us and both of you get dressed and have a bag of clothes and other things ready to go at a moment's notice. If things get worse or get any closer to here, I’ll come straight back and pick you both up. For now it’s safe here , just stay put and keep the doors locked and curtains closed. If you put the tv on, keep the volume on down low.”

“Okay Mark. Just be safe out there. You’re no good to us dead , you hear me ? You don’t go being a hero. You’re already a hero to that little girl sleeping in the next room and she needs her daddy , alright ?” Emma said with tears in her eyes as they hugged. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too babe.”

Mark held back his own tears and he hugged her tight and quietly went to Sophie’s room and kissed her on the forehead. He didn’t have it in him to wake her up to say goodbye.

Mark came downstairs and looked down at his boots as he walked out the house with Paul behind him. He didn’t want him to see the tears welling in his eyes.

“They’ll be fine. I’ve told her to get Sophie ready and keep the doors locked. If shit hits the fan we come right back and get them. They can discipline me all the want, my family comes first.” Mark said and took a deep breath. The smell of smoke still hung in the air.

“Let’s find out what they want us to do.” Mark said he reached for the radio

“Sierra Oscar 2-1 to Sierra Oscar, are you receiving , over?” Mark spoke into his radio. Silence.

He frowned and tired again “Sierra Oscar 2-1, to Sierra Oscar are you receiving , over?” Once again, silence.

“That’s unusual.” Was all Paul could say.

“We’ll mate, I’d say it’s been an unusual night so why change it up ? Let’s just get there and see what’s going on. Grahams probably just out for a piss or something.” Mark replied as he put the car in gear and headed back to the station.

More blue lights flashed by in various directions. Now there was a helicopter hovering somewhere over the city centre shining a spotlight down on some unseen threat below.

Mark brought the car into a parking space at the station . He had plenty to choose from since literally every single car was deployed. Thankfully their noses were not assaulted by the smell of smoke this time due to a change in wind direction, by the sounds of chaos were ever present : more sirens, more shouting, more smashing glass. It sounded much closer than it had when they’d left the station. It was clear the violence was spreading.


“I’m definitely grabbing another coffee.” Paul said struggling a yawn as they walked through the back doors of the police station and headed for the canteen.

They both stopped dead in their tracks. There was a trail of blood on the floor leading all the way up the corridor and into where the staff canteen was.

“What in the fuck is this ?” Paul said in disbelief.

“Keep your shit together and eyes open.” Mark said as he readied his baton.

“Now we know why Control didn’t answer the bloody radio.” Paul said in barely a whisper. Mark pushed open the door to the canteen slowly, so as not to alert anyone who may be inside. He needn’t have bothered.

“Fuck me.” Mark said bluntly. The staff canteen was a horror show. Blood was drenched everywhere. Over the walls and floors. Tables and chairs were upended and scattered all over the place. Half finished sandwiches and lukewarm cups of tea and coffee were left unattended whilst the still warm bodies of their owners lay on the floor. At the far end of the room two tables had been placed on their side to act as an ad-hoc barricade, but it hasn’t made any difference. Eight bodies lay on the floor in various states of mutilation. It was a massacre.

“What the fuck happened ?” Paul asked as stepped over the bodies of former colleagues.

“This cannot be happening . This can’t be real. This is fucked.” Mark said, barely holding it together.

In amongst the slaughter was one corpse that was not wearing a uniform. A woman perhaps in her fifties with now blood stained blond hair. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back and she had a head wound consistent of being hit with a police baton.

“Someone’s brought in a prisoner and she got loose I guess ?” Paul suggested.

“How does one handcuffed woman kill eight police officers?” Mark asked doubtfully.

“You saw what happened out there. The people that got attacked turned around and started attacking others. I’ve never heard of any kind of virus that works that fast though. It’s the only thing that makes sense though, isn’t it ?”

Mark just sighed “Mate, absolutely nothing makes sense tonight. Right, let’s check the control room.”

They made their way through the police station discovering more scenes of carnage. Another five bodies were found . Blood was everywhere.

“They went down fighting at least.” Paul said in barely a whisper.

“Yeah. Fighting each other. There’s no civvi bodies about. Our own guys literally ripped each other apart. It’s fucked beyond belief.” Mark replied and tried not to throw up at the stench coming from the torn insides of one of the bodies. A trail of intestines stretched across the floor.

The control room door was off its hinges, someone had broken in. Both officers stood at the entrance of the room and peered in. It looked like a whirlwind had come through , with papers scattered all over the floor and computer monitors smashed. Someone was on the far side of the room facing away from them. Before either could call out to the man, a phone rang on the wall in the control room. The man suddenly spun around on the balls of his feet and roared at the offending sound. He jumped over the desk and grabbed the phone and ripped it from the wall and proceeded to smash it repeatedly against the desk till it shattered.

“Fuck me, it’s Sergeant Graham.” Mark said as he watched his supervisor demolish the phone before dropping to his knees and vomiting blood all over the floor.

“Come on Mark , let’s get out of here.” Paul tugged at his colleague's shoulder “We can’t help him.”

Graham vomited an impressive amount of blood before starting to choke on it. Mark briefly considered trying to do something , anything , to help, but to what end ? The man was beyond saving. Within seconds his coughing and gurgling came to an end and he died on the floor of his office , face down in a pool of his own blood.

“Did that just happen ? Was that actually a real thing that just happened ?” Paul said as he put a hand on the wall to steady himself.

Mark walked over to the radio in the middle of the control room, which seemed to be the only piece of equipment that hadn't been wrecked . Calls for backup which had been inceccent an hour earlier seemed to have died off. The radio waves had gone eerily quiet. Mark wanted to believe it was because his colleagues out there were getting a handle on things, but he knew better . Put simply, dead people don’t make distress calls.

Mark keyed the radio and spoke “Attention all units . Sierra Oscar is down. I repeat , Sierra Oscar is down. Cambridge Police Station is compromised. Over and out.”

“What the hell do we do now? Who’s in charge there?” A voice came over the radio , all sense of professionalism and decorum gone.

“I don’t know. Everyone here is dead. I don’t know who’s in command. I don’t know where the Chief Inspector or Chief Constable are. I’ve no idea what’s happening at this point. Just look out for each other and get off the streets. ” Mark said, still struggling to comprehend what was happening.

“Now what ?” Paul said, unable to take his eyes off his dead sergeant lying on the floor, his body still spasming.

“I’m going to get my family. It’s up to you what you do, but they’re my priority. There’s nothing more we can do here.” Mark said, shaking his head at the sheer amount of carnage surrounding them.

“I’ll come with you. We need to stick together if we’re going to survive this.” Paul decided. “Let’s go.”

“We’d both be dead if we hadn’t left when we did.” Said Paul, trying to avoid stepping on the blood as they left the wrecked police station. On the way out, Mark took a can of red spray paint from an evidence locker that he had confiscated from some kids a week earlier and spray painted on the wall next to the front door “ALL DEAD HERE.” , figuring people might come to the station hoping to find shelter and someone in authority for guidance. No sense in them going in and seeing the bloodbath inside.

Without warning , the police car's radio suddenly came to life “Attention all remaining units, this is the Chief Constable. Orders are as follows : get off the streets and find a defensible location and fortify your position. Communications are lost with Cambridge Police Station. All new orders will come from HQ in Huntingdon. Avoid contact with aggressors at all costs. If you can reach the declared safe zones at Addenbrookes Hospital, Cambridge Airport or Homerton College, please do so. If not, as previously stated fortify your current position if it’s a defensible location and await further orders. Over and out.”

“All remaining units? That sounds pretty fucking grim.” Mark said, shaking his head.

“What you thinking, grab your family and make for one of those safe zones he mentioned ?” Paul asked.

“Yeah I think that’s a good shout. I know they’re relatively safe where they are, but I’m not taking the risk of this thing spreading further and them being stuck in the middle of it. At least I can keep them safe if they’re with us.”

The car once again made its way through the ever chaotic streets of Cambridge. Every way they turned there was fighting in the streets. Mark had to make several detours due to car wrecks in the road. It was clear that the violence was spreading. Streets they had passed through earlier which had been peaceful were now in utter chaos. Mark's own street was no exception. The neighbours three doors down were hurriedly loading suitcases into their car and buckling the kids in whilst across the road smoke was billowing out of a broken kitchen window . In the front garden lay two unmoving bodies.

“This is bad.” Mark said with fear rising in him. His own house looked fine at least, with the curtains still drawn and no sign of any disturbances, but such chaos this close to his family would put fear into any man.

“Let’s do this quickly. In, grab them , out.” Mark said as he pulled the car up in the driveway. Paul nodded in agreement.

Both officers quickly exited the car and made a beeline for the house whilst leaving the engine running just in case they needed to make a quick getaway. Mark unlocked the door and quickly made his way upstairs. Emma stood in the bedroom fully dressed along with Sophie. Both looked sleepy .


“Mark, thank God you’re here. It’s all been kicking off here. Someone broke into Jessemains across the road. We heard the screaming from here.” Emma said as she held her daughter tight.

“Sweetheart, are you alright ?” Mark asked his little girl. Sophie nodded and hugged him tight. She was tired and confused.

“I’m scared, dad.” She said.

“Don’t you worry baby girl, I’m here now. We have to leave now though. It’s not safe to stay here so I’m taking us all someplace where we can be safe,ok?”

“Ok dad.” She said as she forced a smile.

“Where are we gonna go ?” Emma asked, her eyes full of worry.

Mark lowered his voice so as not to alarm his daughter “It’s fucked. The whole station is dead. A fucking bloodbath. The whole town is gone to shit. There’s supposedly a safe zone set up at the hospital and another at the airport. The hospital is closest so we’re going to make for there.”

“Christ.” Emma said in bewilderment. She knew there had been trouble but not the extent of it. “If it's as bad as say, they'll need all the help they can get at the hospital.” Emma had worked as a nurse at Addenbrookes Hospital for close to a decade. She loved her job and loved helping people, but this whole situation filled her with unease.

A sudden bout of shouting outside caught their attention. They all rushed over to the window and peered outside. Three people ran down the street. A couple and a young baby, with the mother holding her baby as the father ran behind trying to push her ahead.

“Keep going !” He shouted to his wife. Behind him two more people were running in chase. “Don’t stop. Don’t look back , keep going!”

The woman did as she was told and ran as fast as she could with her screaming baby. The man punched one of the pursuers in the face, knocking him to the ground, however the second attacker was on him before he had time to swing a second time. The two wrestled on the ground as the man tried to give his wife and baby daughter those precious spare seconds to get away. His head was repeatedly slammed into the road by the enraged attacker leaving nothing but bloody mush and shattered skull on the road.

“Oh my god.” Emma gasped as she shielded her daughter's eyes.

“We need to get the fuck out of here. Now.” Mark said as he led his wife and daughter down the stairs. Paul had stood guard at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them to come down. Mark looked through the peephole at the front door to make sure it was clear outside. The people involved in the brutal melee outside had moved on in search of new victims, leaving the broken body of the man attacked a few moments earlier lying motionless in the middle of the road.

They ran out the door and straight to the car , piling in as fast as they could and closing the doors behind them. Down the street, growls suddenly emitted from the dark as the group's movement caught some unwanted attention. Half a dozen people were suddenly sprinting at the police car, Mark recognised most of them as neighbours of his. He didn’t know them particularly well, but well enough to know they didn’t run down the street half dressed attempting to rip people to shreds. This all felt incredibly surreal.

“What the hell is wrong with them?” Emma shouted as they rapidly approached the car as Mark put it into gear and began to speed off. Two of them threw themselves onto the bonnet as he pulled away and attempted to punch through the windscreen, but to no avail. One rolled off almost immediately but the other tenaciously held on as Mark swerved all of the road trying to force him off the car. Trying a new tactic , he sped up then made an emergency stop, sending his neighbour flying into the middle of the road. The pain for his rather violent fall onto the road seemed to be a complete no issue for the man, who immediately jumped back to his feet and ran at the car. Mark floored it and made contact with the man, sending his tumbling over the bonnet and back on the road once more, this time with a clearly broken leg. Mark caught sight of him in the rear view mirror actually trying to drag himself down the road in pursuit of the car. A sheer single minded rage seemed to consume his former neighbour.

“Daddy!” Sophie cried out from the back of the car.

“Shhh darling it’s going to be ok. Close your eyes and don’t look.” Mark said feeling immense guilt at what his daughter had just witnessed.

The streets were pure pandemonium. Cars lay crashed all over the road with their doors wide open and abandoned, forcing Mark to maneuver at speed between the car wrecks whilst also avoiding the increasing numbers of people on the streets running in every which direction . In the dark it was almost impossible to tell between the attackers and those running for their lives as people ran down the pavements and across the roads. Homes and businesses were smashed as people broke through doors and windows in an attempt to harm those sheltering inside. The whole thing felt surreal.

“Mark, what the hell is going on?” Emma asked in bewilderment. “This is nuts.”

“I know babe. The whole situation is fucked. If this is some kind of infection like they reckon it is then we really need to try and avoid these people at all costs.” Mark said as they drove by a woman on her hands and knees in the middle of the road violently vomiting blood all over the street.

“I don’t know of any infection that shows these symptoms.” Emma said as she watched the blood vomiting man disappear out of view. “Rabies maybe? Even at that it doesn’t affect people to this degree. If it’s an infection then it has to be something we haven’t seen before.”

“An infection that drives people to kill each other ?” Paul said from the front passenger seat “Sounds like a horror film . Like Dawn of the Dead or something.”

“Only these fuckers are worse. They can run.” Mark said “I’d rather deal with some shambling zombies than these nutters.”

The group was able to breathe a sigh of relief as they drew up into the car park of Addenbrookes Hospital on the southern outskirts of Cambridge. The carnage had not yet reached here yet. Three large police vans with flashing lights blocked the road , with a gap just small enough for a car to fit through. The officers manning the roadblock wore gas masks and helmets. These guys were taking no chances. They were shining lights in the faces of the passengers in each car they were allowing through.

When it was their turn to pass through, Mark wound down his window.

“Mark? Paul? Thank Christ you lads made it out. Anyone else get out ?” Gary Crosby, the sergeant in charge of the checkpoint asked, his voice muffled through the gas mask. The officers were armed with submachine guns. Cambridgeshire Constabulary had deployed its armed response teams.

“Nope. We got back to the station and it was a massacre. Everyone who was there when it went down is dead. I dunno about the other guys already out there. It’s been a shitshow all night. What’s the script here ?” Mark asked.

“We’ve been basically keeping order here and making sure none of the nutjobs come in. So far , so good. A few of them are inside receiving treatment. Doctors reckon it’s a virus they've caught . Never heard of a virus that does that to you though. The whole city centre is a write off , though I suppose you know that already. Bodies piled up the streets by the fuckin’ hundreds. All sort of mad rumours going around tonight as well.”

“Rumours ?” Paul asked .

“Apparently two big army choppers landed over by the airport a little while ago. You know those big two blade fuckers? Lot of troops from Colchester were setting up there all kitted out in CBRN gear. Apparently anyway, who knows for sure. Also heard those reinforcements that were supposed to be coming up from the Met to help us have been told to turn around. Same with the lads on their way from Thames Valley. They reckon it’s a job for the army now. Again, not confirmed , comms are shit so all we have to go on is rumours.”

“Fuck sake, what a mess . Right sergeant I’m going to get my wife and little girl inside and get them comfortable then me and Paul will come up and assist.” Mark said .

“No problem mate. Take five minutes to get a cuppa if you need it, I know you lads have been through some shit tonight.” The masked sergeant said as he waved them through the roadblock and into the hospital grounds. The hospital itself was not as busy as they had expected to find it. Indeed most of the people in the main entrance were not patients but in effect refugees who’d been forced from their homes and headed for the hospital hoping it would be safe. All the chairs were taken and many people were sitting or even sleeping on the floor. It was clear immediately that the hospital staff were taking precautions. All of them were wearing latex gloves and surgical masks. Some were wearing protective goggles.

“Emma?” A voice piped out. The group turned round to see a masked nurse coming towards them.

“Hey Anna. How’s it been here ?” She asked her colleague.

“A bloody mess. We could have used you here earlier. I’ve honestly never seen anything like this.” Anna said. She looked exhausted.

“Our street went mental. The neighbours were murdering each other. It’s fucking wild out there.” Emma said, holding back tears. “Any word on exactly what’s causing it ?”

“It’s a viral infection. We just got the lab results back twenty minutes ago. We suspected that’s what it was , but it’s good to have confirmation. It’s completely novel. Nothing like this has ever been seen before . At least as far as I know.” Anna said as he rubbed her tired eyes. “It doesn’t seem to be airborne as far as we know. It seems to be spreading through direct physical contact. The incubation period is insane though, I’ve never heard of anything so fast acting. We’re literally talking seconds in some cases. “

“How many are infected here ?” Emma asked with concern.

“We’ve got an entire ward full. We had to move patients to other wards and some of the hallways to make room for the infected patients. Couldn’t risk them being in close proximity to each other. They’re restrained and sedated , but the sedatives keep wearing off within minutes, and as soon as they do they go wild and act like rabid animals. Honestly it’s been a hellish night. The morgue is full apparently. Some of the infected that have been brought in have died in their beds. A lot of them just crash and bleed out. Some choked to death on their own blood. We’re literally using one of the storerooms to store some of the bodies. At this rate we’ll run out of body bags by the morning.” Anna said, her eyes welling up with tears as fear and frustration settled in.

“Jesus Christ.” Emma shook her head. “Doesn’t feel real.”

Anna rushed off to continue her rounds whilst the group tried to find some space in the reception area to sit down and rest.

“We need to leave.” Mark said after a few moments thought.

“What? Why?” Paul asked in confusion.

“The government will quarantine Cambridge. No way they’ll risk this infection getting loose and going rampant all over the country. We should leave before they close the roads.” Mark replied.

“Not that I’m disagreeing, but where the hell would we go? It’s chaotic out there. The dark makes it even more dangerous.” Paul said as he looked around the crowded waiting room. Entire families were huddled together sleeping on the floor. A couple of triage nurses were making their way around checking out patients to see who needed to be seen first. Most were injuries from the huge number of car accidents that had occurred as people fled for their lives. A cleaner made her way through the waiting area mopping the floor to clean up the blood that the injured had left. The place was a mess. Through the doors came two paramedics wheeling a trolley with a writhing madman strapped to it. His mouth had been taped shut but that didn’t stop him trying to bite through the tape. The paramedics both wore surgical masks and face shields for added protection. Even through all that the exhaustion and fear in their eyes was evident as they disappeared through a set of double doors and towards one of the quarantine wards.

“If one of those fuckers gets loose...” Emma started.

“Mum, I’m scared. What was wrong with that man?” Sophie asked, her eyes wide with fear as she clung to her mother.

“He's sick, sweetheart. Don’t worry nobody is going to hurt you when you’ve got me and your dad here.” She said as she held her daughter tight. “Try and get some sleep for a bit, we might be here for a while.”

“Ok mum.” She said as she leaned on Emma’s shoulder and tried to fall asleep.

“Emma, I’m going to go speak to some of the guys, see if I can get an update on how things are going. Are you two going to be ok here for now? It'll be ten minutes at most.” Mark said as he got up on his feet.

“Course hun, don’t worry about us. Just don’t take too long. Bring us something back from the vending machine would you , please ?” Emma said as she handed him some change.

“Sure babe , I’ll do that.” Mark said as he pocketed the money and went with Paul out the front door to the police checkpoint.

Half a dozen officers armed with semi automatic weapons milled around the road , whilst another twenty officers armed with riot shields and riot helmets were also gathering, ready for whatever came their way. Or so they hoped.


“Any updates?” Mark asked the gas mask clad sergeant in charge of the checkpoint.

“Pretty much the whole town is fucked. 650 or so 999 calls in the last hour alone. Call centres can’t cope with the volume. People are dying whilst calling us, call handlers saying they’re literally hearing people being ripped apart over the phone. Grim shit, man. Comms are in chaos. Nothing is coordinated at this point, pretty much every man for himself. All those shelters set up in schools and churches are fucked too. Too many people are attracting attention. There’s rumours of a massacre at Homerton College”. Without warning, the sergeants radio came to life.

“Sergeant, we need support inside the hospital . We need it now !” A panicked voice shouted over the airwaves.

“What’s happening ?”the sergeant practically shouted into the radio.

“One of those crazy fuckers got loose. He’s spewed blood everywhere. A couple of the nurses have got it now too!” The officer's voice sounded on the edge of hysteria. There was shouting coming from inside the hospital. Not in the main entrance which was being used as refugee accommodation, but further inside where the patients were being treated.

“We need to get in there and get Emma and Sophie!” Mark said. Before Paul could say anything else , there was a sudden commotion down the road. People were approaching the checkpoint. In the darkness it was impossible to see who they were, but you could certainly hear who they were. The screeching and growling and roaring gave it away. Then they came into view. Two hastily set up flood lights hooked up to a generator next to the road illuminated a scene of terror fast approaching. At least a hundred people were rushing towards the checkpoint . It looked like they were chasing after a young couple who were fleeing for their lives towards the hospital and had inadvertently led the infected right to it. The sound of the huge crowd of infected was terrifying, it was unnatural.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Paul said bluntly as the first shots rang out , and the first infected fell down dead. No orders to halt were shouted and no warning shots were fired. This was life and death and the last of Cambridge Police intended to go down swinging. Screaming was also starting to break out in the hospital main entrance. Mark spun around and saw chaos starting to engulf inside. A mass of writhing bodies and red mist. It was impossible to see what was happening but it was clear it was horrifying beyond words.

“No! Fuck we need to get in there!” Mark cried out loud as he readied himself to run inside to save his family.

They were trapped between the chaos in the hospital and the rapidly disintegrating police line in front of them. The riot officers tried their best to hold steady, and took down dozens of infected using baton and shield, but inevitably their line broke and they too were soon added into the ranks of the infected.

“Mark, we have to run!” Paul roared and grabbed him by the arm and tried to drag him to their car.

“No, I’m not leaving them in fucking there!” Mark cried out as he pointed to the now blood drenched windows of the main entrance. The cacophony of screaming and yelling was not dying down.
When will part II come out?
 
Did anyone ever discuss efforts by the military or American special forces to shut down Britain’s nuclear reactors?
It was slightly mentioned by the author. Anyone is free to write a chapter depicting how Green Berets, U.S. Navy SEALs, or Delta Force did it.

NEST would be involved.
 
It was slightly mentioned by the author. Anyone is free to write a chapter depicting how Green Berets, U.S. Navy SEALs, or Delta Force did it.

NEST would be involved.
Given how much barbed wire and fencing there is, I suspect some power station staff stayed and did the shut down themselves, probably evacuated by NATO as 'specialists' if/when the perimeter of the facilities where breached.

I could see a nuclear plant being a decent safe haven for a while, though not forever.
 
Given how much barbed wire and fencing there is, I suspect some power station staff stayed and did the shut down themselves, probably evacuated by NATO as 'specialists' if/when the perimeter of the facilities where breached.

I could see a nuclear plant being a decent safe haven for a while, though not forever.
True but it’s a question of if enough water is still coming in to keep the reactor cooled.
Speaking of water while most of the larger dams might have had their flow gates opened before being overrun or by special teams some time afterwards to prevent a breach I’d wager a few of the smaller ones have burst wrecking all sorts of havoc in both the short and long term.

This aspect of this genre in my opinion is underused and deserves more focus if I ever write something similar.
 
True but it’s a question of if enough water is still coming in to keep the reactor cooled.
Speaking of water while most of the larger dams might have had their flow gates opened before being overrun or by special teams some time afterwards to prevent a breach I’d wager a few of the smaller ones have burst wrecking all sorts of havoc in both the short and long term.

This aspect of this genre in my opinion is underused and deserves more focus if I ever write something similar.
I have no idea if this is applicable to any other reactors but as part of a guided tour at Sizewell B a few years ago we were told about the 2 backup systems & that finally the cooling could operate on gravity feed only so in these circumstances I'm confident that one is safe at least. All reactors have armed MOD police as well. Of course if airbases are getting over run in short order than they won't stop or even slow down the infected.
 
Most modern reactors don't require any human input to shut them down, they'll likely SCRAM as soon as they detect the grids they're connected to shutting down from lack of operators, go into shutdown mode, and then the issue is cooling being maintained. There might potentially be a lot of Three Mile Island situations where the reactor is fucked but otherwise is contained from contaminating everything else around the nuclear plant.
 
NATO and the Kaliningrad Fortress

From the very first days of the fighting in Kaliningrad, NATO has spoken out about providing assistance to Russian troops against the infected. On April 4, representatives of NATO countries appealed to the Russian government with a proposal to provide military assistance to troops in Kaliningrad and send a NATO expeditionary force to Kaliningrad, to which the Russian authorities, including Vladimir Putin, gave their full consent.

By April 15, an aircraft carrier group, including the aircraft carrier Enterprise and a number of other ships, landed a NATO Expeditionary Force consisting mainly of the American and Canadian military with the symbolic presence of the Norwegian military, which became part of the military groups in Kaliningrad, supporting Russian troops with airstrikes from aircraft carrier.

This group of troops stood bravely, together with the Russian troops, shoulder to shoulder, holding out until the end of the so-called "blockade of Kaliningrad". The Battle of Znamensk was special, where Russian and American soldiers, being in the minority, were able to repel the attack of the infected.

In Western and Russian propaganda, this was described as a repetition of the exploits of their great-grandfathers during World War II, the inviolability of Russian-American friendship, as well as Russia's friendship with the West, as well as the unity of mankind, and the participation of NATO troops in Kaliningrad - "a new meeting on the Elbe."

Throughout 2003 and 2004, this group of troops remained in Kaliningrad until it was withdrawn in 2005. Despite this, Russia and the NATO are still conducting joint military exercises there.
 
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