The Z Infection (21 page)
She was ghastly. I’ll always
remember her. She was wearing a tracksuit. It was one of those cheap efforts,
that was the uniform of so many in the poorer housing schemes, and it hung
badly on her bloated, overweight body. Her face was a mass of lesions, like
she had been involved in a particularly ferocious fight and she smelled like
nothing I had experienced before.
She advanced on me until she was
almost in touching distance. I could smell the rancidity of her and was close
to vomiting, when suddenly Kareef was there at my side again.
The woman looked up at him,
momentarily distracted and he took one swing at her with his axe. The blade
embedded itself in the side of her skull and she let out a groan. It sounded
like pain, but I already knew those things didn’t feel things like that so I
guess it was maybe just from the impact. In any case she dropped to her
knees. She was already dead. I could see that the eyes had glazed over almost
at once, but Kareef was enraged at the intrusion into his home. He dislodged
the axe and brought it bear once again, crashing it down onto the top of her
skull and splitting it open with a terrible crack.
He hit her three more times and her
body flopped onto one side. I stood and rushed to the sink, where I promptly
threw up.
Kareef went to the utility room and
washed the blood and bits of brain from his axe, then he quietly went to the fridge
and took out a can of cola. He switched on the radio and took a seat at the
kitchen table, raising his legs and resting them on one of the chairs.
‘That’s four times now,’ he said.
Callum MacPherson
13:46 hours, Saturday 16
th
May, Buckingham
Palace, London
I knew at once, that I would have to do
something to save those two on the wall. I had lost about half my command in
the effort to stop the infected from coming through the gates. It had been an
impossibility, but I knew we had to put up a fight to allow the others a chance
to get inside the palace. So, now that I had achieved that, it didn’t seem
right to leave two of them out there without at least trying to save them.
‘I need a diversion,’ I said to one of my men,
a Corporal. ‘Get three men and meet me back here in five minutes.
Every second was going to precious. I raced
along the corridor until I reached a large window near the end of the
building. I tried opening it but it was stuck fast. I called to one of the
palace staff members to assist me. He was an older man of about fifty, dressed
immaculately in a dark suit and tie, with a white shirt under a red waistcoat.
‘These windows don’t open from the bottom,’ he
said. ‘They only open from the top and then only enough to let some air in.’
‘How long have you worked here?’ I asked.
‘Twenty years,’ he replied. ‘I was on the
Royal Yacht before that.’
I pointed at the two figures on the distant
wall, just visible between several large trees.
‘See those people there,’ I said. ‘We have to
get them inside. Is there any way we can do that without opening the doors to
the rest of the world?’
He thought for a moment.
‘There is a door around the other side,’ he
said. ‘Follow me.’
We ran along another long corridor, until we
reached the door he was talking about. The footman opened it and we found
ourselves in a large room.
‘This part of the palace is rarely used for
anything,’ he said. ‘There’s a door which leads out onto a garden at the
side.’
I looked out of a small window. I couldn’t see
the two figures any more, but I had a rough idea of where they were.
‘What about upstairs?’ I asked.
‘Some rooms and staff accommodation,’ he said.
‘Stay here,’ I ordered him. ‘I’ll need that
door opened. As soon as you see me coming, unlock it. And as soon as we are
inside I want it closed and locked again.’
‘I’ll need to find the keys first,’ he said.
‘Do it,’ I called, as I ran back to the
others. ‘Meet me back here when you’ve located them.’
I ran back to where I had spoken to the Corporal.
He had assembled his small group and they were waiting for me. Their faces
bore the look of concern, but also of a deep resolve.
‘There are two people still outside,’ I said,
not bothering with any preliminaries. ‘I am not prepared to leave them there
without trying to save them. What I need is a distraction. On my order I want
all the civilians to go to the windows and start banging on them. That should
attract the attention of most of the infected. Once they have done that I will
slip out of a side door and through the trees to the wall. I’ll collect the
two civilians and we’ll come back in the side door. I need a covering unit, in
case there are any stragglers who see us and get interested. You are that
group. Any questions?’
There was a unanimous shake of heads among the men.
I spoke to another of my soldiers and made sure that he knew where to position
the civilians, then I turned back to my team.
‘Right, let’s move.’
We ran down the corridor and back to the room.
The footman was nowhere to be found. I cursed.
Looking out of the window I still
couldn’t see any movement from the two people on the wall, but there were one
or two infected wandering nearby. I guessed the two had stayed on their
platform. That was good. If they stayed quiet and calm they should be safe
there for some time.
It took about an hour before the footman
returned, exhausted and breathing hard. He had a set of keys in his hand and
held them up as he approached.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘They had been
moved by someone in all the confusion when this all started yesterday.’
‘Never mind,’ I said, impatiently.
‘Just open up.’
He unlocked the door and stepped
aside. I made a quick call on the radio, to my men who were organising the
diversion and was greeted with a return message, bathed in a crackle of static.
It had started.
I pointed out a space between the trees to the
men.
‘That’s where they are, or were,’ I said.
‘I’ll go and get them, you cover me from the terrace and garden.’
I nodded to the footman. He opened the door as
silently as he could and we sprinted out. The covering team fanned out, two
either side, as I ran for the first tree. I could hear the noise coming from
the other side of the building. The infected had been drawn to the windows and
they were creating hell as they battered away at the reinforced glass.
At the first tree I stopped to catch my
breath. I had seen at least two, but I was well aware that there could be any
number of the infected wandering around in the area. I checked my rifle and
switched off the safety. Speed would be the decisive factor now. It didn’t
matter how much noise I was going to make.
I ran to the next tree and then to the next,
crossing the small pathway which led alongside them. I could see the wall through
the gaps. It wasn’t particularly high, but it was augmented by rings of barbed
wire. I could see the wooden lookout post now. On top of that, and now
surrounded by a steadily increasing group of the infected, were a young woman
and a man in his thirties.
The two were doing their best to hold off the
infected without making any more noise than was necessary. Others were still being
attracted to it, though, and I knew I would have to act fast.
I walked out from behind my tree and aimed the
rifle. I shot the first two through the backs of their heads before the rest
knew what was happening. As those first ones dropped, the others turned to
face me. I shot another and another, then shouted to the two on the structure.
‘When they come for me get down and run. Head
for this side of the palace.’
I shot another two and still the others came
towards me, fearless and resolute in their determination. How I wished I could
have a hundred men the same. I fired another sixteen rounds, emptying my
magazine and there were yet another dozen to deal with.
I began to back away and slipped another
magazine into my rifles as the two leapt from the lookout post and started to
run. They hadn’t got much further than about twenty metres when the man fell,
going over his ankle on a fallen branch. He cried out in pain and the girl
stopped.
‘Keep moving,’ I yelled. ‘I’ll get him.’
I had now reloaded and was firing at the group
once more. Every one I hit in the head, dropped to the ground. The more I
killed the easier it became. I was almost in a trance-like state. I didn’t
care if they were men or women, young or old. It didn’t matter anymore. They
were the enemy and I was at war.
Suddenly I heard the girl scream. From around
a tree another six or seven appeared. She raised the rifle and pulled the
trigger but nothing happened.
‘Safety catch,’ I yelled.
But my moment of distraction was to prove
fatal. The man was seized by two of the ones I hadn’t managed to kill yet.
They tore at his legs as he kicked and screamed, desperate to get free. They
gouged at him, tearing off skin as they clawed their way closer and closer to
him. I fired and hit one, but the round passed through his neck and he
continued.
I turned my attention back to the girl. She
was firing now. Not accurately I have to say, but she did hit a couple of them
and slowed them down.
‘Run,’ I said.
‘What about Barrie?’ she called.
I assumed that was the man. I looked back to
see that he was desperately trying to fend off four of them now. He had a bite
mark on his arm and one on his jaw. There was no hope for him now. I
considered shooting him. Putting him out of his misery would be the right
thing to do, for him. But was it the right thing for me? While the infected
were attacking him it meant they were leaving us alone.
It was one of those lessons you
sometimes learn. Sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always the right thing
to do. So I left him, thrashing about as he was slowly overcome and bites were
taken out of him as several others joined in the feeding frenzy.
I’ve often been asked how I felt
about that decision. Well, I feel alive. I’m not proud I left that guy to be
eaten by dead people, but I’m proud that I’m still here to tell my story. I’m
glad I survived. To have shot him dead would have meant the end for me and
Kim. I knew that. I made the decision. I live with it. That’s the way it
is. That’s the way it was back then.
I turned back to the girl. I fired
another six times and killed the ones who were closing in on her.
‘Time to go,’ I said. ‘Barrie didn’t
make it.’
We ran at full pelt through the
trees, back towards the side door. Large numbers of the infected were now
appearing from the lawn side of the palace, attracted by the noise of the
shooting. The small covering group laid down fire on them as we ran, taking a
decent toll with some accurate shooting.
We leapt over the small wall and kept
going until we got to the door. Inside I could see the footman. But the door
was locked.
‘Open the door,’ I shouted.
He shook his head. He was frozen
with fright.
‘Open the fucking door,’ I yelled.
Behind me there were shouts from my
men as the infected closed in on them and they continued to fire.
I raised my rifle and pointed it at
him through the glass.
‘Please open the door,’ pleaded Kim.
She was imploring him, but still he
refused to budge. He knew I couldn’t fire. It would destroy the defensive
integrity of the building. It would allow the infected easy access and he knew
I couldn’t allow that. I lowered my weapon.
‘Let’s go,’ I shouted.
I had no idea what I was going to do
now, but I was determined that I would make a last stand somewhere. If this
was going to be the end then I was going to take as many of the infected with
me as I could.
Thomas Buckle
14:02 hours, Saturday 16
th
May, M25 East London
I had only driven about halfway to the next
junction when I suddenly realised I had made a mistake. Pancho had been
sleeping on the front passenger seat, but he suddenly sat upright and gave that
low growl I had heard before. Talk about an early warning system. He was
mine.
I slowed the car to a crawl, searching for
whatever it was he could sense. That was my mistake. In those early days I
didn’t fully appreciate his particular skills. He was so sharp. Later, once I
was used to him and fully trusted his judgement, I never put a foot wrong. If
Pancho told me something wasn’t right, then it wasn’t, and we just turned
around and found another way. But that day I kept going and it almost cost us
our lives.
Around a bend I suddenly realised what the
problem was. A huge column of cars, buses, lorries and every other kind of
vehicle you could imagine, was backed up on the motorway. I cursed my luck and
my judgement. If I had done what I had decided in the first place, I would
have missed this. Now I couldn’t move. Not forward anyway.
I drew the car to a stop and jumped out. I
grabbed my weapon from the back seat and, together with Pancho, we approached
the traffic jam. It was solid, but something wasn’t right about it. There
were no people with the vehicles. I checked in several of them as I passed
through, but there was not a soul to be seen anywhere.
I decided that height would be an advantage and
found a small delivery van. I climbed onto the bonnet and from there managed
to get onto the roof. When I stood up to get a better view, I almost passed
out with fright. There, not more than a hundred metres from me, I saw an
infected. Then another and another. In fact, as my eyes scanned back through
the vehicles, I could see thousands of them. Thousands and thousands. I
crouched down, motioning with my hand for Pancho to stay still.
They were systematically going
through the vehicles, searching for the living. When they found one, who
perhaps been hiding, they went into a frenzy, dragging them out of the vehicles
and killing them on the spot. The screams were blood curdling.
There was nothing I could do. There
were too many of them for an army to tackle, let alone one man with a dog and a
gardening tool for a weapon. I decided to make my way back to the car and turn
around, but as I went to get off the car I slipped and came down hard on the
bonnet. I let out a yell, then stifled it as I realised my error. It was too
late. Pancho let out that tell-tale growl from the pit of his throat. It was
time to go.
We ran back, through the tangled maze
of vehicles and debris, until we were on the open road again. Behind us came a
swarm of the infected, wailing as they staggered onwards.
I reached the car and fumbled for the
keys. I dropped them twice, my hands were shaking so much, before I took a
deep breath and told myself to get it together. That did it. As the crowd
approached us I opened the door and leaned across to let Pancho in. Then, even
as they were grabbing for the bonnet of the car, I was reversing back along the
motorway. When I finally stopped and looked up, I could see thousands more,
following that first few hundred as they came for me. I like to tell myself
that my actions that day probably saved some poor soul who was hiding in his
car, but all I was thinking about at that very moment was self-preservation.
But, as I congratulated myself about how I had
extricated myself from such a perilous situation, a new danger suddenly
appeared. Another swarm, several hundred strong, were falling down the
embankment on my side of the motorway, spilling onto the road.
I put my foot onto the floor and accelerated as
fast as I could. Still more appeared further down the road. I was never going
to make it. There were, literally, thousands of them. And more were appearing
every second.
That was when I decided to take a massive
risk. I weighed up the chances of making it through the swarm as it increased
and began to cover the road in front of me. If I hit even one of them it might
write off the car, hitting dozens of them would ultimately lead to me
crashing. It wasn’t an option. Then, by pure luck, I saw my chance.
As I sped along the road I noticed that part of
the central reservation barrier was damaged. It might have been from a
previous accident. Who cared? It was probably a lot weaker than it would have
otherwise been. I screeched to a halt as the road in front of me filled with
the infected, then reversed back a few metres. Pancho seemed to sense what was
happening and jumped into the foot well. Clever boy, I thought. I had no idea
if my plan would work.
I turned the car around and headed back towards
the main swarm. There were even more of them now. There were so many that you
couldn’t see the tarmac any longer. I pulled the car out in an arc and aimed
it for the damaged part of the barrier.
I must have been doing about sixty miles an
hour when I hit it. I just remember praying that it would give way without too
much persuasion. My prayers were granted. I smashed through it, metal
protesting as it met the barrier, wheels screeching as I landed on the opposing
carriageway and me shouting at the top of my voice like a deranged lunatic. I
was free.
I had the whole motorway to myself again and I
roared past the wailing corpses on the other side, as they tried to negotiate
the barriers and fell in heaps. I was on the wrong side of the road, but it
didn’t matter. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be meeting any more traffic
for quite some time.
Xiaofan Li
14:18 hours, Saturday 16
th
May, Soho,
Central London
I was in almost complete panic. I was in this
tiny room with only one exit, with several infected coming up the stairs
towards me. I searched for an answer to the problem. I could barricade the
door and hope they left, but I had seen others attempts to hold the infected
off like that and they almost always ended in failure. I could try to shoot my
way out, but I had no idea how many others were out there and how many the
noise would attract.
Eventually I stood with my foot against the
bottom of the door, preventing them from getting in. I was at a loss about
what else to do.
By the time I had been there like that for two
hours I realised that they weren’t going to leave. I think they could sense
something wasn’t right. I’m not saying that they knew I was in there. If they
had worked that out they would have gone into one of those frenzies and nothing
would have stopped them from getting at me. I think they were just confused.
Escape through the skylight seemed to
be the only way out. I had examined it as best I could from where I was
standing, but I still wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t be too small, even for my
petite frame.
Eventually I realised that I would have to do something.
They weren’t about to leave and I couldn’t stand there forever. I had to be
constructive and I decided to buy myself as much time as I could.
Having made the decision, I checked
that the handgun was ready. I then opened the door. I swear to this day there
was a look of surprise on the face of the first one. I aimed the gun at him
and fired three shots. I think all of them hit him. He fell back at least and
the weight of him caused a domino effect on the others as they tumbled
backwards and down the stairs, landing in a heap.
I fired another couple of rounds at the mass of
bodies, before I realised I was wasting ammunition and closed the door. I shoved
one of the desks against it and piled as much other stuff on top, hoping it
would hold out for long enough for me to clamber out of the tiny window. Then
I dragged the other desk to the centre of the room and climbed onto it. I
still couldn’t reach the skylight.
I jumped down and grabbed one of the chairs. I
could hear footsteps on the stairs again, loud and fearsome. They were back on
their feet and coming for me. Quickly, I put the chair on top of the desk and
got onto it. I stood there for a moment, getting my balance, then reached up
and undid the latch on the skylight.
I pushed it open and drank in some of the fresh
air. I had no idea where it would lead but anywhere was better that that place
at that moment. Shoving my rucksack through the opening, I grasped hold of the
lip of the window and hauled myself upwards, praying that I would fit through
the gap, just as the first hands began appearing through between the door and
the frame.
The infected were in a fury, desperately trying
to get to me and as I pulled myself through the narrow space, the door finally
gave way and they poured through it in a tide of rage.
There must have been about ten of them. I
didn’t know if there were more on the stairs, but they filled that tiny room.
Hands reached up towards me and the last face I remembered seeing, was the guy
I had shot. He had three neat bullet holes in the centre of his chest. And
there he was, still moving and snarling, as thick blood oozed from the wounds.
I closed the window on them, leaving them to the room. It was theirs now.
Once I gathered my bearings the first thing I
wanted to do was to get off the roof and away from that club. I wanted to find
somewhere safe so that I could rest.
I found that I had an easy jump, down to a
lower part of the roof. Once on it I worked my way around the edges until I
found a drainpipe. It looked to be in good order. One of the things I had
learned on the street, was that you always checked things like that before
getting on them.
I used to sleep in doorways and
alleys, but they were dangerous places. You always ran the risk of being
robbed by some drug addict. Some of them would have stabbed you for the shoes
on your feet. So, quite early in my homeless career, I had taken to sleeping
on rooftops. I got the idea from a friend. He swore by it and told me all the
rules of the game. So long as you were out of sight of people in the flats,
you were pretty safe. You were always gone before it was properly light in the
morning, you never went back to the same place two nights running and you
always made sure of safety first.
It was a shame my friend hadn’t taken
his own advice. A rotting drainpipe saw his demise at the age of just twenty-nine
as he fell thirty feet to his death. That shook me up pretty bad, but it had
also made me very careful.
So I gave it a good shake first, to
make sure it was secure. Once I was happy with it I threw my rucksack into the
alley below. Extra weight could make all the difference. Then, with all the
skill of a cat, I clambered down the pipe, landing in the narrow lane moments
later.
I grabbed my rucksack and headed to
the end. Once I was sure that the way was clear, I stepped out and kept to the
lee of the buildings. Very soon I was far enough away to allow myself to sit
down and relax for a few minutes. I took out another slice of pizza and
chomped on it until I had figured out what to do next.
My plan was to head north, away from
the city centre, but by the time I had walked another two streets I knew that
was going to be impossible. They were full of infected. There were far too
many roaming around. It was going to be impossible. I cut back towards the
east but ended up with the same problem. They were everywhere.
I found a safe place near one of the
theatres just off Shaftesbury Avenue and suddenly realised I was almost back
where I had started. And where this had all started. I began to wonder if I
was safer here than anywhere else. Perhaps the infected had spread out from there
and had vacated the area. It was as good a possibility as any.
I decided to head right back into the
thick of it. I had heard a news broadcast about the bus crash near Covent
Garden. Most of the people on the news were making assumptions that this was
where it had all started. I walked down the deserted streets and found myself
at the end of Long Acre. The name of the street jogged my memory and I walked
down it until I saw what I was looking for.
Everywhere I looked there were
bodies. Hundreds of them. Men, women and children. There had been something
awful that had happened there. Some smoke was still rising from the shops
where the bus had crashed and there were hundreds of vehicles abandoned in the
street.
It was an alarming scene. I had
witnessed quite a bit in the last couple of days, but this was the epicentre of
the whole disaster. This was our ground zero.
I didn’t want to go too close to the
bus. Who knew what was lurking there? It wasn’t certain what had caused the
outbreak in the first place. There might be some contagion still active in the
wreck.
I kept back and watched the area for
a bit. It was deadly quiet. Not a soul on the street. I was about to move
and look for a decent safe place to settle down for the night, when I heard a
noise. It wasn’t the sort of sound I associated with the infected. It sounded
like it was being made by someone who was still living. There was a subtle
difference. I crouched down in a doorway, keeping out of sight as much as I
could.
