Day Zed (Volume 1): The Outbreak

by Charles Smith

  At first the clothes struggled to ignite, but eventually the flames took hold and the smoke was sucked down through the filters. After only ten minutes Gerard emerged armed with a cricket bat, he quickly dropped the bat when three of the five men brandished mean looking knifes.

  “Okay it’s yours, give me five minutes and we will leave” Gerard asked

  “You’ve got two bruv”

  “I need to get some supplies first”

  “No, you need to get you and your daughters backside out of our new crib” the leader roared.

  Gerard called Shanice to come out. The little girl was too scared to look up in the gang’s direction. Her father had surprised her by giving up so easily, he had spent a large chunk of his life building this place for them. Gerard placed his arm around his daughter’s shoulders, and ushered her along.

  “Come on Princess, don’t worry daddy has somewhere else we can go” Gerard whispered to her.

  “Where will we go dad?”

  Gerard had a small allotment over near West Ham Train station, and underneath that he had dug a second bunker, it wasn’t as grand as the one they were leaving, but it would still be safe. All they had to do was now get there safely. He turned back one last time and watched as the last of the gang members entered the bunker door, he could clearly hear the bolts being locked from the inside. As they reached the bottom of the garden, and entered the shed Gerard retrieved their bikes, if they went across the fields they should miss most of the people that now travelled on foot.

  He withdrew a remote fob from his pocket, and after typing in a four digit pin number he tripped the kill switch for his bunker. The electronic lock disabled the door and trapped the five squatters inside, the witch also turned off the air conditioning, the power and the running water all at the same time. If he and Shanice couldn’t live in his bunker he was dam sure no one else would.

  1st July, London Bridge, 4:21pm

  To Morgan it had seemed like an eternity since he had climbed into the back of the car and hidden under the jacket. When Declan beckoned the zombies to follow him, Morgan assumed they would begin their chase, and the area would be clear in no time at all, how wrong he had been. The large horde had taken over thirty minutes to pass the car, and despite the windows being rolled up the nauseating smell of decay that followed the undead penetrated the back of the car. The hoard had moaned with anticipation as they shuffled along after the injured soldier, and that same moan reached into Morgan’s head and tortured his very soul, as he tried not to cough from the lingering smell of death that accompanied them.

  Even after the shuffling large group had passed, Morgan could still hear the more injured ones struggling to pass the car, some had lost their legs, and pulled themselves along by their hands, whilst some had broken bones, that wouldn’t support their frame, yet they still moved off behind the horde. Not wanting to draw any attention, and step out into the open with the injured zombies struggling past, Morgan decided to wait a bit longer, and from sheer exhaustion had fell asleep.

  On waking, at first Morgan had forgot where he was and as his eyes opened he immediately pushed out with his arms to clear the jacket from his body. On surveying the area by peeking above the door trim, he was relieved that he could only see three of the monsters; they now fed between the train carriages. From his vantage point Morgan could see up to the platform edge of London Bridge, with all the platforms full with cancelled trains, the staff had to stop any further trains at the signals where the four abandoned ones now sat. Looking over his shoulder the horde was nowhere to be seen, the only thing along the tracks in the distance was some sort of a fire that hadn’t been there when they had previously passed, Morgan hung his head at the realisation that Declan must have detonated his hand grenade, and taken as many of the horde with him. The only thing that could possibly be burning on the track behind him was bodies.

  Before leaving the car Morgan weighed up his choice of heading straight for the station, or checking out the carriages to see what had attracted such a large horde. The station ahead was closed and the large group of zombies must have come from the trains in front of him, as the stations platforms would not have been accessible to anyone outside of the building. The desire to check the carriages ahead won, but first he would have to deal with the three zombies he had spotted and any others that may be in the area. Morgan slowly exited the car, trying to be silent, so he didn’t attempt to close the door back up. Turning his rifle back to front in order to use the stock as a ram, and his knife withdrawn he slowly crept up on the three zombies.

  Before the zombies had spotted the soldier creeping towards them he was on top of them, he drove the rifle forward into the first ones head, and the satisfying crunch that came with the rifle stocks connection told him that it was dead. As the second began to stumble up Morgan kicked it square under the chin with all his might, and snapped its head back, as the zombie recovered on the floor he drove the knife into its eye socket right up to the hilt. The third ambled towards him with its arms outstretched, the blow to the face from the rifles stock, broke its nose yet still it came, a second blow to the side of the head stunned it, and Morgan quickly finished it off by thrusting the knife up under the jaw, and into its brain, the zombie buckled immediately and fell to the ground.

  Taking his time Morgan searched the trains around him, the first three sat on the tracks with all their doors wide open. He surmised that the drivers had opened the doors to let the passengers off and this is where the horde must have originated from, maybe some of the passengers had already been infected. The last of the four trains still had all of their doors closed, it was impossible to see into the carriages as his head only just reached the step on the train doors. After cautiously walking up to the end of the train he could see that the drivers cab was abandoned, and fortunately for Morgan the driver had left the door open. Climbing into the cab was easy enough, although the lip of the door was six feet off the ground Morgan used the two metal steps on the underside of the carriage to climb his way up. In order to move in the cramped cab Morgan had to remove his pack, placing it on the dashboard he surveyed the cabin and couldn’t understand why the driver had left the carriage, they would have been safer in the small cab. The adjoining door to the carriage was locked from the inside of the cab, and after unlocking it Morgan slowly stepped through.

  The first carriage of the four carriage train was completely empty, as he reached the doors to the second carriage he smiled as he saw survivors. Morgan pressed the button for the doors to automatically open, but nothing happened, and surveying the button he realised that the driver must have switched the door functions off from the cab. Rather than go back and activate the controls he forced the sliding doors open, he had to insert the knife in between the rubber seals in order to get a grip and enough leverage to pull the doors apart, and even then it took some strength on his part to pry the doors open. On entering the carriage he was greeted by three people, two of these had been huddled together petrified. The two girls were very young, Morgan thought maybe in their early twenties. The third a man, who had been hiding further down the carriage, had clearly been crying.

  “Are any of you bitten?” Morgan asked them

  All three slowly shook their heads.

  “I’m going to check the other carriage’s stay here until I get back” the soldier told them.

  Once again having to pry the doors open Morgan entered the next carriage, and couldn’t believe there were a further eight uninjured passengers there. He told them to move along to wait with the other three whilst he checked the last. Something told Morgan not just to pry open the doors on the last one, to check he tapped the hilt of the knife onto the glass of the door, and for a few seconds he didn’t see any movement, then suddenly two zombies stumbled around the corner form the toilet cubicle, their jaws clicking. As they reached the door they snapped at the glass, they could clearly see the soldier, and the two kept getting tangled together as they repeatedly tried to walk th
rough the doors. Morgan abandoned the idea of checking the last carriage, and edged back slowly, he wondered if the glass would hold them in, he hoped it would. Once out of sight of the zombies he ran back to the eleven survivors, he didn’t stop as he approached them; instead he carried on walking and called back over his shoulder.

  “We’re moving now”

  No one questioned him, and they all followed Morgan down the length of the carriages and then followed him out onto the gravel tracks through the drivers cab. After waiting for the last of them to jump down from the drivers cab Morgan turned and spoke to the group.

  “If we can get out through the other side of the station, we can get to a safe house”

  “Those things are out there” a voice stated from the crowd.

  “Yes they are, they move slower than us. Just don’t let them bite you”

  “Why can’t we stay here?” asked the same hidden voice

  “You’ll die that’s why” Morgan barked.

  “Right move out” he added before walking towards the platforms of London Bridge.

  The eleven passengers all followed behind, and cautiously nine of them stayed a bit back. The two girls that Morgan had first come across were glued to his shoulder.

  “What’s your name?” the pretty oriental girl asked him.

  “Morgan miss” he answered whilst keeping his focus on the approaching station.

  “I’m Jin Lee and this is my flatmate Heather” the girl pointed at her equally attractive friend.

  “Pleased to meet both of you, we need to stay quiet until we’re out of here though”

  “Oh sorry, okay no problem” Jin Lee replied as the two friends giggled at one another.

  On entering the station it was strangely eerie, usually the station was a hive of activity. The station was now quiet due to the area being closed off earlier. The main entrance showed signs of earlier panic with luggage abandoned around the concourse. There were pools of blood on the floor, and discarded, once hot beverages were strewn across the station. The survivors left the building, and made the short trip across London Bridge in less than ten minutes.

  Without any contact from uninfected or zombies the group soon made it to the entrance of the bunker. The only sign of life of any kind was someone hastily boarding up the front entrance of a supermarket; some of the group did look at the man. Strangely the man didn’t look like the owner of the property. Morgan pulled the army issue key card from his pack, and ushered the group of survivors into the first room of the bunkers entrance, he glanced outside for what might be the last time as the heavy metallic doors closed and locked behind them.

  1st July, Battersea, London, 5:32pm

  Government protocol deemed that the bunkers were not allowed to communicate with each other, in order to ensure that each bunker could survive on its own, and not be tempted into helping another one out. This rule did not apply to the bunker in Battersea, because this was deemed the lead bunker. They had announced that within the next five minutes that they would be broadcasting to the rest of the bunkers, and that, this announcement would greatly affect the way the country was now run.

  Chatsworth’s population had risen by twelve since Morgan’s earlier arrival. All of the new arrivals had passed the screening process, and Scott had given them a quick guided tour. They now sat at tables around the command centre taking in refreshments, whilst eagerly awaiting the Prime Ministers announcement. After being trapped on the train for so long, many had feared for their existence until Morgan had saved them, now they looked forward to hearing from a government that they hadn’t thought existed just a few hours ago.

  The group had already splintered off into its own little sections. The three caretakers all sat together at the command module, whilst just along from them sat Penny, Dave, Jackson, Jin Lee and Heather. Morgan and the remainder of the London Bridge survivors sat together on a larger table behind the command module. What the awaiting group and other bunkers were not aware of was the incident that had occurred in the Battersea bunker shortly after the education minister had reanimated.

  The reanimated corpse of the education minister had caused chaos throughout the facility of Battersea. After waking back up, he had fell out of the back of the troop carrier, and made his way over to the lone mechanic who was under a car repairing an oil leak. The zombie dropped to its knees and sunk its rotten teeth into the soft flesh around the top of the mechanics shoe. The mechanic tried to escape the horror of what was happening, by struggling further underneath the car, only for the zombie to pull back, and after a soft tearing sound as a mouthful of flesh was torn away he went into shock and passed out.

  When he finally came around most of his right leg had been eaten up to his kneecap, all that now remained was the bone and several chunks of flesh that were attached in different places. After sustaining such an injury and the level of deadly virus that had entered the body, he wasn’t able to pull away, the loss of blood meant that he didn’t have much longer left to live. As the mechanic turned, the other zombie immediately lost interest and followed the sounds coming from the busier supply compound.

  By the time it had worked out how to climb the stairs the former mechanic had managed to crawl out from under the car and join it. The two zombies moved into the supply area and between them, they instantly claimed a further four lives, and infected a further six victims who had fought valiantly to try and rescue their fallen comrades. As the remaining supply staff retreated to the dormitories the zombies followed.

  No one had managed to retrieve guns from the munitions centre, and as such none had a weapon to defend themselves. Although the alarm was raised, the dead now totalling twenty four rampaged through the dormitories infecting many more on their way through. With no way of locking the zombies down below in the lower levels, the remaining survivors had attempted in vain to build barricades leading to the first floor.

  The zombies eventually managed to force their way up onto the final floor, the only area that was protected was the command room which was now locked and the steel window shutters had been deployed to protect the glass walls around it. The bunker had fallen in less than two hours and only a handful of survivors had made it to the safety of the command room. The problem for these survivors was time, every corridor, and every floor now belonged to the dead. All the food, water and even weapons were below them. There was no means of escape, as the exit was on the lowest level.

  The live feed began with the Royal anthem, and shortly after it had finished the Prime Minister Haydn Broxby came into view. With a sigh he began his statement by welcoming survivors from other bunkers, and thanking the staff that had kept the bunkers running up until the outbreak. Up to date reports on both the police and army operations followed the messages of gratitude. He seemed happy to relay the news that the two safe zones that had been set up were operational and that staff were now working around the clock to make sure the two zones were impregnable.

  The tone now changed in Haydn’s voice as he began to recant the last couple of hours within the bunker. After years of exposure to the world’s media the Prime Minister had never looked so uncomfortable, he had always been so calm and collected in the past. Now that expression of calmness was vacant from his face, it had been replaced by what looked like fear, and anxiety.

  “It is with deep regret, that I now have to inform all of you watching that the Battersea facility has now been compromised, the rest of the bunker has now fallen”. The Prime Minister announced.

  “Control of the country will now fall to the Deputy Prime Minister, who since the outbreak has been overlooking the installation of the safe zone in Berwick”

  After a long pause the Prime Minister placed his hands on the desk he sat at and finished his statement.

  “It has been a privilege to serve you and I wish all of you the best of luck in the future”

  The broadcast ended, and everyone sat staring silently at the now black screen until Penny asked them

  “Did
anyone else notice the bandage on the Prime Ministers hand?”

  Everyone agreed that they had, no more was said, until Kathy informed them that the next government broadcast from the Battersea bunker would automatically be played at eleven that evening.

  1st July, West Ham, East London, 6:11pm

  Gerard and Shanice made the short journey across the fields in no time at all. By travelling across the private field, and then the gasworks field they had skipped all the commotion that was happening in every street around them. Gerard had grown up in the area, and knew where every field, alley and shortcut led to. As they crossed the fields he thought back to his childhood, and how he and his friends had loved coming to the fields, and spending hour after hour recreating famous battles. Over time as they all grew older the friends had all gone their separate ways, Gerard had found God, and he had never looked back. Now as they travelled past the large methane tank, he wished he could rewind time, and go back to a happier place than the world they now lived in.

  The allotment which lay the other side of a rusty chain link fence had been tended to by his family over the last three generations, when his grandfather had no longer wanted the site his father had taken it over, and when his father had fallen ill he himself had started to work on the small piece of land. Gerard had always liked to build things, even as a child he had built his own go carts, and even a fort in the tree’s, it had come as no surprise to his proud family when he graduated from university and became an engineer.

  His passion for building had even taken over at the allotment, after just a few months he became tired of the hard work, for very little personal reward, he just wasn’t cut out to be a vegetable grower. He had therefore decided to start his own building project underneath the shed. After removing the base of the shed, and strengthening the sides he had dug down. After digging so far he brought old railway sleepers into the shed and cut them to size in order to construct a shaft. Slowly but surely after months of hard work he had dug far enough down to create something akin to a basement under the allotments.