Surviving the Fall: How England Died (24 page)

Chapter 10

Abdul’s light explored the tunnel wall.

“I’ve found it,” shouted Abdul.

Sarah and David joined Abdul at the bottom of a rusty ladder. It reached twenty feet up to the roof of the tunnel, where it disappeared into a hole in the ceiling.

Sarah went first and climbed the ladder to the top, through the hole and up into darkness.

Her heart raced. The darkness had taken on the same fear that it had as a child - the unknown, the monster in the closet, except now the monsters weren’t in the closet anymore, they were walking around, looking for live flesh.

Flesh like hers.

She put up her hand to grab the next rung - but it wasn’t there, the ladder had ended. She felt around in the darkness with her hand and found nothing.

“I’m at the top,” she called down, wishing she hadn’t. Her voice echoed loudly.

“What do you see?” said Abdul.

“Wait,” she replied.

Holding on carefully with one hand, she took out her phone and turned on its torch. She was in a small concrete room. The ladder had protruded out of the floor, and finished five feet up. She simply stepped to the left and was on the floor of the room.

A closed heavy metal door was the only other feature.

She leaned over the hole to shout down to the others in the tunnel below.

“It’s ok. Looks like a door out of here.”

“Does it open?” asked David.

“Hang on.”

She tried the door. It moved slowly, stiffly and with a loud creak, but it opened. The loud creak took on the attribute of every other sound in this strange hollow world, and bounced vigorously in the empty concrete space, taking minutes to die. Fear gripped her at the thought of what might be listening.

“It opens, come up.”

David came next, moving slowly to protect his ankle from hitting any of the rungs.

Abdul was last, carrying David’s crutch.

“So that’s the door,” said David, repositioning himself on his crutch. “Shall we see where it goes?”

“Alan mentioned vents,” said Abdul.

“I don’t really care where it leads as long as it leads out,” said Sarah.

Abdul shone his phone light out of the room. A dark thin tunnel, only four feet wide led into the darkness, inclining steeply. A dull blue glow lay an indeterminate distance ahead.

“Look,” said Abdul.

“Looks like daylight,” said Sarah.

Abdul took the lead, David next and Sarah at the rear.

Their footsteps didn’t echo here - maybe the tunnel was too thin, the concrete thicker, whatever. Sarah found the silence even more unsettling than their shuffling echoing footsteps had been.

“How are you doing David?” asked Sarah.

He let out a heavy puff of air. “Hard work.” He turned and gave her a smile, “But up is good as far as I’m concerned.”

The glow ahead got closer slowly, but it was still impossible to judge the distance. A sound was now penetrating the silence, a rhythmical thud, deep and distant.

The glow in the corridor became a light shining out of the side of the wall. It was a junction in the tunnel. They soon reached it, and Abdul turned off his phone, it now being light enough for them to see without it.

The noise had got louder, a mechanical thump with the background hum of powerful electricity.

They turned into the new corridor.

A loud excited moan filled the air.

Sarah gasped.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” said Abdul. He stood to the side to allow David and Sarah enter the room.

Sarah shielded her eyes against the sudden brightness.

They were in a very large circular room, in the middle of which was a large piece of machinery, the source of the thumping sound. It was a huge fan, directing air through a large hole in the ceiling. The promising blue light of day beamed in from above.

The paddles of the fan turned fast and vigorously within a mesh cage. Inside the cage, was a zombie, pressed up against the mesh.

The zombie’s back was sheared off to the spine.

Every time the fan turned, it sliced off another millimetre of flesh, bone, and organs from the back of the zombie, spreading the mess across the inside of the cage.

The zombie seemed unconcerned that it was a half man. Its jaw clicked angrily, moans and grunts of frustration piercing the regular clunk of the fan.

“My God,” said David. “How does it even move, its nervous function must be completely shredded.” He hobbled over for a closer look.

“Careful,” said Sarah.

The zombie became excited as David approached, and it bit into the mesh of the cage, cutting its lips and gums, leaving thin tendrils of pink flesh behind.

“Ah, I see,” said David. “It’s spine is still intact, so I guess that’s how it’s moving. They must be completely imperceptible to pain though.” He carefully dodged a thick puddle of blood on the floor. “I guess they don’t need blood either.”

“It’s not natural,” said Abdul. “If I was a religious man I’d say they were devils.”

“Are you a religious man?” asked Sarah.

“Of course,” said Abdul.

David leaned in for a close look at the zombie’s face. It pushed forward with a surprising lurch and pushed the cage out, its teeth gnashing viciously. David jumped back and fell, his crutch clattering on the floor.

“Christ!” he said.

“I told you to be careful,” said Sarah. She helped him up.

“Look, here,” said Abdul.

A spiral staircase followed the wall of the room, leading up, towards the light and presumably outside.

Sarah took one last look at the pitiful figure behind the bloodied cage, its existence being shaved away slowly by the powerful paddles of the fan.

They climbed the spiral staircase, with Sarah at the front, David in the middle, and Abdul at the rear, their pace slow.

As they got closer to the top, Sarah’s anxiety grew. Assuming there was a way out, she wondered what was waiting for them outside. The world that she had been buried under for the past few hours, which had seemed so far away, was about to become real again. Would it be the world she remembered?

The staircase eventually stopped by a doorway.

“Fingers crossed,” she said.

She turned the handle. The door opened easily.

The group let out a nervous laugh, smiling, breathing sighs of relief.

Sarah stepped out into the day. She breathed in the warm wet air - it looked like it had rained recently. The clouds were clearing and the sun felt warm on her skin. She realised how relieved she was as tears fell down her cheeks. Free again. In the world again. She kneeled down and ran her hands through the wet grass.

They were in a large farm field, flat and stretching up a gentle hill, closed by hedges. A small wood in the distance.

The structure they had left was a squat featureless grey building sitting in a dip in the field. Its function would never be guessed by the casual observer.

“What now?” said David.

Sarah shrugged, “I don’t know. We walk I guess.”

“Shall we head for that wood?” said David. “I like the idea of cover.”

They set off towards the wood.

Chapter 11

Half way to the woods.

Sarah became aware of movement from the top of the field. Two vehicles were approaching. Dark green by the looks of them. Jeeps.

Army.

“Guys,” she said, pointing to the approaching vehicles, “Look.”

Abdul and David fell silent. The buzz of the jeeps carried well in the still country air.

“Friend or foe?” said David.

“No idea,” said Abdul. “But what can we do? There is nowhere to run.”

Although only a few hundred yards away, it seemed to take forever for the jeeps to reach them. Sarah’s body tensed, every muscle tightened.

Waiting for the shot.

The jeeps skidded to a halt twenty yards away and four soldiers jumped out.

“Down, get down, get down on the ground, now!”

Sarah got onto the ground immediately.

“Hands on your head! Now!”

She heard David’s voice, “We are not infected, I’m a doctor, none of us are infected.”

There was no response from the approaching soldiers.

Sarah raised her head. She saw boots about ten feet away.

“Where have you come from?”

“We were in the-” began David.

“The farm,” interrupted Sarah. “We have come from the farm, we were staying there last night.”

“Which farm?” said the disembodied voice from above her.

“Cherry Farm.” She had taken her daughter to a city farm a few years ago. Cherry City Farm.

Mumbled conversation between two of the soldiers.

“You all look very smart for farmers?”

Sarah’s brain had stopped. She was out of ideas.

“We work for Clarissa’s Farm Feed, meat suppliers,” said Abdul. Sarah smiled inwardly at Abdul’s use of her daughter’s name. “We were discussing terms this morning, when they came.”

“Who came?” barked a soldier.

“The things,” shouted Sarah. She worked the words into a terrible cry and she forced tears. It wasn’t hard. “They came and they ate the farmer, we had to run, we had to leave him. It wasn’t us! I promise.” She let out another cry, ramping up the hysteria.

More mumbled conversation between the soldiers.

“Ok, stand up.”

Sarah stood up, her face red with crying and tears. Still waiting for the shot.

Four soldiers, all young, all looking scared and uncertain. Their eyes pierced through each member of the group, examining their physical state, their clothes. Sarah whispered an inward prayer of thanks that Abdul had used his conductor’s jacket to rest Alan’s head.

“You are going to come with us. You may be infected, so we will need to restrain you.”

“I can assure you, we’re not infected,” said David, his gentle tones couldn’t be more out of place in the current situation.

The soldier ignored him. “Get us three restraint kits, Crowe.”

One of the soldiers ran back to the jeep, rummaged in the back seat for a minute and returned with three yellow bags. Handcuffs and what looked like dog muzzles where pulled out of the bags.

“Now, hang on a minute,” said David.

“It’s ok,” said Sarah, casting a warning look to David. “We understand.”

“Good,” said the soldier who seemed to be in charge. He was tall, dark hair, well built. But still didn’t look old enough to shave, thought Sarah.

Two other soldiers approached and tightened the muzzles on first. It bit into her cheek.

They took David to the jeep to sit him down before fitting his restraints, as once restrained he couldn’t use his crutch.

“Get them back to the station,” said the soldier on charge. “We’ll sort the vent.”

They were squeezed into the back of one of the jeeps and two soldiers got in the front.

“Where are we going?” asked Abdul, his voice muffled due to the muzzle.

“Holding. You need to be put in holding and examined,” said Crowe.

The other soldier turned round. “I’m private Dutton. Are you guys ok? You look a little beaten up?”

Crowe started the engine and the jeep bumped along the field, back the way it had come.

Sarah nodded. “We’re ok.”

“Sorry about all this,” said Dutton, indicating the restraints. “Things have gone a bit wild.”

Crowe cursed as the jeep went through a large dip in the field, causing the engine to rev hard and for the passengers to be thrown about roughly.

“What is holding anyway?” said David. “You say we are being examined - I’m a doctor, I may be able to help.”

Dutton glanced at Crowe before replying. “It’s a quarry, about four miles from here.”

Crowe shook his head. “Can it, Dutton. They don’t need to know any of this.”

Dutton looked like he wished he could say more, but instead lowered his head and turned round.

The handcuffs were biting into Sarah’s wrists, especially given the rough nature of the ride so far. She was glad when the jeep left the fields and turned onto a road.

Crowe accelerated and they raced along the thin country lanes.

Abdul leaned close to Sarah. “I’m not sure I have a good feeling about this.”

“I agree. But what can we do?”

Abdul shook his head and leaned away.

Sarah knew what it was like to deal with bureaucracy and people who followed rules. Difficult at the best of times, and impossible at others. This, she felt, was one of the impossible times.

The jeep pulled sharply around a corner, the back skidding out a little.

“Take it easy, Crowe,” said Dutton from the front of the jeep.

“I don’t want to be out on these roads too long,” said Crowe, accelerating out of another corner. Sarah was pulled from left to right as Crowe sped along the roads.

Sarah leaned forward to be better heard by the soldiers. She decided to aim her questions to Dutton - he seemed the most amiable.

“I have a husband and a young daughter. In London.”

Dutton glanced back at her, not seeming to want to take his eyes off the road. “Ok, I think you should probably ask the officer in charge at holding about them.”

“Do you not have a phone that works? Surely the army have communications.”

The engine revved loudly as Crowe accelerated onto a straight section of road.

“What?” shouted Dutton.

“Bloody mouthpiece,” said Sarah, “Can you not take this mouthpiece off, I feel like some sort of animal!”

“You know I can’t do that,” said Dutton.

Sarah closed her eyes and counted slowly. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, I just need someone to try and contact my husband. I can give you his name, email address, phone number, Skype address, anything. I just need to-”

Crowe turned to face her, “Look, don’t you fucking get it? There is no comms. Do you think you’re the only person with fucking kids? Now shut up.”

“Crowe!” shouted Dutton.

There was only a millisecond before the crash, but it was enough for Sarah to see the stationary red van sitting on the wrong side of the road, tight round the bend. The next sensation she had was one of motion, incredible motion, like a fairground ride without the restraints.

A sharp pain on her head.

Squashed against the large soft body of Abdul, but her arm at strange angle, then pushed against something hard and cold.

Noise all around her, sounded like a racetrack, revving engine.

Bone jarring motion, incredible pain in her lower back.

Head thrown forward and back, neck strained.

Silence.

Darkness.