She started clicking on the various news links.
‘Man attacked by son’; ‘Chaos in local shopping centre’; ‘Bus driver killed by passengers’; ‘Terror on local train service’; ‘Police called to local nursing home after reports of murder’; ‘Police asking for support from other regions’.
They sat in silence as the horrific list continued.
People attacked each other in a local shopping centre.
On a bus departing from the shopping centre, a bus driver was ‘torn to shreds’ by a couple of passengers.
Similar attacks occurred on a train heading into the city centre.
The reports turned more morbid as they read on.
No explanation lay anywhere on the news site, as to why people were turning on each other.
The last report of an attack, was uploaded to the site only fifteen minutes prior to them logging onto it.
“Where is Nate?” He asked, switching off the tablet and placing a hand on her lap.
“In his room playing on his console I think love.”
“We have to leave Abigail.”
“And go where?”
“I’ve no idea babe,” he replied, “but we have to get away from Liverpool, that’s for certain.”
“Not without the horses,” she stated immediately, “the horse trailer is on the yard, so it’s not a problem.”
Knowing it would be pointless arguing with her, he stood as there came a knock on their bedroom door.
“Mum, Dad, have you seen the news?” Nate called from the landing.
“Yes son,” Jake replied, opening the door, “your mother and I were just saying it would best if we hit the road and left Liverpool until this thing, whatever the hell it is, blows over.”
“What? Why? What about my college? What about your work Mum?”
“I work all over the North son, I’ll be fine.”
“And I can work from home on my laptop,” Jake said, his current job being employed as a Quality Manager for a Nationwide company, “but, maybe Nate is right, we could be over reacting love.”
“It’s not like it’s a zombie apocalypse or anything Dad.”
“I’m still checking on the horses, regardless,” Abigail said, resolutely.
“You’re kidding aren’t you Mum?” Nate asked incredulously. “We went to the yard on the way back from college!”
“No arguments, no more words, I’m checking on the horses.”
“But love,” Jake said, “they are not even in Liverpool, they are almost in the bloody countryside! Nothing is going to happen to them overnight.”
“Don’t know, don’t care,” she replied, striding to the top of the stairs.
“That’s my line,” Nate said, at his Mother’s use of his oft-quoted phrase.
“Looks like it’s your Mothers line now,” Jake said, watching his wife descend their stairs.
By the time they followed Abigail downstairs, she retrieved her car keys from a bowl on a nearby hallway ledge.
“I’m driving,” Jake exclaimed, reaching for his jacket hanging near the front door.
“I’m going to,” Nate said, lacing up his running shoes.
“Okay love,” Abigail answered.
She felt exhausted and though eager to ensure their horses were safe, did not relish the thought of getting behind the wheel again today.
“Yours or mine?” Jake asked, as the trio made their way from the house.
“Take mine love, saves moving it to get yours out of the drive.”
After walking along the drive, they entered Abigail’s small convertible, Nate grumbling as he squeezed himself onto the small rear seats.
Reversing the sleek car onto the road, Jake accelerated to the T-junction at the bottom of their cul-de-sac.
Two police cars hurtled passed in front of them, sirens blazing.
“Let’s be careful,” Abigail said, smiling.
The journey to the yard, took longer than normal, the traffic heavier this evening than most evenings, with the lights of various emergency vehicles, punctuating the fading light, for most of their journey.
Only when they left the main roads of the city itself, to take the country lanes, did the heavy volume of traffic subside.
Eventually they reached the stable yard. He turned his wife’s car into the drive leading to the electronically controlled gates, the gravel crunching beneath its tyres.
Access through the gates was controlled by an automated system activated via mobile telephone, ensuring no unauthorised access and egress on the yard.
Owners of horses on livery at the yard, activated the gates by dialling a number to gain access. and it also ensured the owners of the yard could see who was on the yard at what time.
Abigail dialled the number on her mobile phone and the white gate slowly opened in front of them.
Once it opened fully, Jake slowly drove onto the yard, as per normal, the outside security light on the small detached cottage, owned by owners of the yard John and Milly, activated, illuminating the driveway.
Craning her neck, Abigail stared at the cottage.
The kitchen light illuminated the windows from within and she breathed a sigh of relief, as she watched the curtain being pulled, Milly’s face appearing, looking to ascertain who entered the yard.
Jake stopped the car next to a small barn a moment later, as Milly and John exited the back door of the cottage, walking across to them.
“Sorry we’re calling late,” Abigail said, as they approached each other.
“Don’t you worry about it Abigail,” Milly said, giving Abigail a customary peck on the cheek, “we’ve had a few calls this evening, so you are not the only ones coming to check on your babies.”
John leant over, giving Abigail the briefest of hugs before nodding at Jake, who nodded in return.
“Hope you don’t mind if we leave you to it?”
“Of course not,” Abigail replied, “just making sure the boys are okay.”
“Nasty business,” John said, a tall, heavily set man, with a mop of white hair and a thick white beard, “caught it on the news earlier, seems like the city went crazy for a while.”
“Parts of it did,” Abigail said, “really awful. Jake suggested we leave Liverpool for a bit, but we’ve agreed to wait and see what it’s like in the morning.”
“Don’t you think that is a bit of overkill there Jake?” John asked.
“You must be watching too many of those horror movies they show these days.”
“Just seems strange suddenly people start going bloody ape-shit and attacking one and other,” Jake replied, never keen on Johns forthright and brush manner, “I’m just thinking of keeping these guys safe.”
Nate grinned at his father’s profanity, knowing as Jake did, John and Milly were not keen on profanity.
Abigail grimaced.
“Well, I would suggest you going with your second plan,” John replied, snorting, “this will have blown over by the morning. A few idiots more than likely high as kites on drugs does not mean the collapse of society.”
“How about you two Milly?” Abigail said, breaking into the conversation, knowing Jake was not keen on John and she didn’t want to have to listen to any arguing.
“I will be worried sick about you all night.”
Milly smiled. She understood full well, Abigail wished to stop Jake and John before they began one of their usual, male bickering sessions as she called them.
“We will be fine Abigail,” Milly replied, “the attacks are in the city and we are out here just inside the country. The stables are locked up overnight as you know and the grounds are secure once the gates are locked.”
“And if any drugged-up fool tries to climb over them,” John interrupted, “I have a couple of twelve gauges in the kitchen which will help them change their minds.”
Bidding their good nights, John and Milly made their way to the kitchen door.
“I wish you two would just get along,” Abigail said, w
hilst they walked to the stable blocks.
“I just get tired of listening to his bullshit at times Abigail,” Jake sighed, “every time I’ve met the guy, he has to take the opposite side of what I’m saying.”
“You are being too sensitive and paranoid Jake. He is just stuck in his ways.
“Ohh Arrr, you keep yer dirty city boy arses off of my property,” Nate called, walking two steps ahead.
“Nate!” Abigail exclaimed, as Jake laughed.
Chapter Sixteen
“What is it about some bloody car drivers?” Steve, said, after collecting the injured woman from the children’s centre.
“A bloody ambulance behind them with lights flashing and sirens blaring and they still take their bloody time moving out of the way!”
His colleague, Melinda stood in the rear, monitoring the casualty.
“Some people are just selfish and ignorant,” she replied, her gaze returning to the girl.
That poor kid, her thumb bitten off? What the hell is this world coming to?
Paula lay secure to one of the stretchers in the rear of the ambulance.
Her eyes slightly open, she looked at Melinda sleepily.
“That’s just the pain relief kicking in sweetheart. Are you still in a lot of pain?”
Paula mumbled incoherently through the oxygen mask on her face, but the slight shaking of her head on the small pillow, confirming the medication began its job.
Her eyes closing, Melinda placed a hand upon hers, before moving to the front of the vehicle.
“Can’t believe what some people are capable of,” she half-whispered to Steve.
“Some right bloody maniacs out there,” he replied.
“But to bite her finger off, Steve, that’s disgusting and evil.”
“You’re right there Mel, a right bloody sicko. Being locked up would be too good for scum like that.”
He slowed the ambulance again, due to the sheer volume of traffic on the duel carriageway.
“Have you updated the MDT.” he asked, cursing himself inwardly for taking this route, normally clear this time of day.
The MDT was the Mobile Data Terminal fitted into their vehicle. Connected to a central computer at the Control Centre, they passed details of any jobs to the crew, and could log the times the crew were journeying to patients, arriving and leaving the scene, amongst a multiple of other functions.
“I did, but I’ll check it again.”
She smiled at him before pulling tongues, as he quickly glanced at her.
“Strange,” she said, studying the screen located on a short pole in front of her.
“What is?” Steve asked, pressing the accelerator to move the vehicle forward.
“At bloody last,” he said, the traffic finally started to make way for them.
“I think it’s duplicating jobs again.”
“How so?”
“Two of us have just come from the children’s club,” she replied, examining the screen, “but dispatch is saying that two vehicles are returning and two are still on route to there?”
“Welcome to another national service, bloody bright idea. Give me a second Mel.”
He waited until they passed through the centre of the lines of cars, now moving from their way, before flicking on the microphone.
At least with a radio, you can bloody talk to a person.
“NE 141 to control over.”
“Control to NE 141, reading you over,” a voice spoke from the ambulances speakers.
“Quick question Control. Our MDT is displaying two vehicles attending our last call. Both of our vehicles are currently on route to Town Hospital. Confirming whether duplication.”
“Standby 2.”
He waited, now carefully manoeuvring the ambulance around a bus, pulling out from a nearby bus stop.
“Control to NE 141 over,” the voice on the radio said.
“NE 141 to Control reading over.”
“Can confirm that two units are currently en-route to your last destination. MDT information correct over.”
“NE 141 to control, roger that, received over and out.”
“Control out.”
“Wonder what’s going on back there?” He said, continuing to stare through the window, accelerating away from the bus.
“No idea Steve, hope it’s not too serious,” she replied, returning to stand behind him.
“Ditto. Still, our shift is over after this run, so I’m looking forward to that, then heading home.”
“Tell me about it. I’m just going to curl up in bed and sleep through until tomorrow.”
“I wish I could, but I bought Gill and me tickets to that eighties revival concert on in town tonight for her birthday.”
“That’s Lovely. You’ll be shattered in the morning though.”
“Tell me about it,” he sighed, manoeuvring the ambulance into the entrance road leading to the hospital.
“But, she does love her eighties music and I wanted to make it up to her, as I’ve been grabbing all of the overtime I can for the last few months. She’s hardly seen sight nor sound of me.”
“I noticed you’ve been pulling a lot of shifts lately,” Melinda replied, stepping to the gurney where the heavily sedated Paula lay.
“Any particular reason?” she asked, checking the screen of the machine monitoring Paula’s vital signs.
“Ahh, that’s for the birthday present she doesn’t know about.”
“Signs are slightly low,” she remarked, studying the screen, “but we’re here now. What is the present or shouldn’t I ask?”
Manoeuvring the vehicle into one of the allotted bays for ambulances, he switched off the ignition.
“An engagement ring.”
Unlocking the driver’s door, he jumped out, swiftly rushing to the rear, the rear door opening as he arrived.
“Engagement ring!” she exclaimed, as he took over, securing the doors to the vehicle’s frame.
“Aye,” he said, lowering the small ramp to the floor, before stepping into the ambulance, hurrying to the gurney.
“Picked it up yesterday, from that jeweller in town.”
About to unsecure the gurney, he noticed Paula’s uninjured arm still lay across her chest. Gently taking it and laying it at her side, he felt a sliver of pain on his wrist.
“Oww,” he exclaimed, undoing the clasps securing the gurney.
“What’s wrong?” Melinda asked.
“Scratched my arm.”
“On what?” she asked, as they manoeuvred the gurney from the vehicle.
“Not sure, it was either a loose nut or something, or one of her bloody, long nails.”
Steering the gurney to the Accident and Emergency entrance, she saw the small line of blood on his wrist, disappearing underneath his gloved hand.
Looking at Paula, she realised the girl possessed extremely long finger nails, but found it difficult to see any blood on them from the angle where she stood.
“You had best get it checked out Steve and I will get somebody to look at the gurney. Don’t want any injury claims against us,” she said, grinning as the automatic doors opened, allowing them to enter the bustling and loud department.
“No time, I’m clocking off as soon as we get back to the station. I’ll stick a plaster on it and we can report the gurney tomorrow.”
She was about to reply, when one of the nurses on duty approached them to start processing the patient’s details.
By the time Paula was admitted and they returned to the ambulance station, she forgot about his scratched wrist.
“Are you getting straight off?” She asked, as Steve entered the small kitchen, “I was going to make you a coffee.”
“I’ve really got to run Mel. I’ve just completed the paperwork for our shift and I need to get my head down to get some sleep before this evening.”
“And this,” he indicated to the mobile phone in his hand, “is bloody well staying off for once.”
Holding down the power
button, he watched as the screen saver of him and Cassie holding hands together on holiday in Greece, faded to black.
“I am so happy for you both Steve,” she said, hugging him.
“She hasn’t said bloody yes yet.”
She laughed, releasing him.
“You know Cassie will say yes, she will be over the moon.”
“Do you think so?”
“Of course, she will be. She loves you with all of her heart you big oaf, now run off and get your head down for a bit”
Kissing her on the forehead, he made his way through the kitchen door.
Walking into the small lounge, doubling up as their rest area, she switched the television on. A few minutes later, another of her colleagues entered the room
“Hi Mel,” the man said, hurriedly stepping into his uniform, “do you and Steve fancy some overtime?”
Looking through the window, she saw Steve’s car exiting through the gates.
“Steve’s got off and his mobile won’t be switched on for a while,” she said, turning to face him.
“I’m okay for a couple more hours yet, what’s up?”
“God knows what’s going on out there. Calls coming in left right and centre. A few units have already been dispatched to the Venue shopping centre.”
Staring at the half empty cup of coffee in front of her, she sighed, raising from the sofa.
“Okay, let’s see what fun and games my overtime will bring.”
Turning the steering wheel, he manoeuvred the car away from the traffic lights and accelerated down the high street.
Stopping at a pedestrian crossing to allow a few late shoppers to cross the road, he glanced at the sports holdall sat on the passenger seat next to him. Pulling the zip across of the top of it, he placed his hand inside.
Still watching the procession of shoppers crossing the road, he rummaged in the bag, managing to locate and retrieve a small black box, with a fine line of silver piping around it.
Opening it, he stared at the diamond ring within.
God, I hope Mel is right.
Gently closing the lid, he placed the box bag into the holdall.
Now that the shoppers all crossed the road, he depressed the accelerator and continued along the road.
The itching from his wrist irritated him. Rolling the sleeve of his jacket, he examined the scratch. It looked worse than it did earlier.
The Infected Chronicles (Book 1): Origin Page 13
