Occasionally he saw a smashed shop window and twice cars that were actually ablaze but with no sign of fire engines in attendance. It reminded him of the prelude to the Brixton riots of 1981. This was the calm before the storm. The quiet intake of breath before the screaming begins. The recoil of the hand before the fist strikes. People were largely hiding in their homes, waiting and watching. Frightened, but not quite sure of what they were afraid.
Yet…
As his keys rattled in the front door his family all assembled in the entrance hall. Julia immediately threw herself into his arms in tears. The children were crying and George stood back, watching the stairs suspiciously.
“What’s going on Jas?” George asked. “The TV says there’s been a state of emergency declared.”
“Yeah, I saw. I guess that means India is now under martial law.”
“No,” Julia was confused. “Here. A state of emergency has just been declared here.”
“What? Oh my god!” He sagged against the wall and suddenly felt almost as though he was watching the scene from above. He tried to focus and concentrate. “Are you all okay?”
“Yes, yes.” They were fine.
“And how has Mum been?”
Julia did not answer and George avoided his look.
“Tell me.” Jason felt panic rising up inside. “How is she?”
“She’s fine bro,” George said quietly. “She’s just been acting a little… odd. I thought she’d snapped at me a couple of times but couldn’t be sure. She’s not been chatting much and although recently she had seemed to be getting more lively and talkative, the last couple of days she has hardly come out of her room, hardly said anything. Then last night Isy just popped her head into her room and your mother yelled at her. She told her to get out in no uncertain terms. There was real venom there. We heard it all over the house.”
Jason was shaken but also thankful. It could easily have been so much worse, judging by the news reports from around the globe. “But you are all okay though?” He stroked Isabelle’s head; the stress of being away from his family at this time had been enormous. “Look, I’m probably being a little drastic, I’m sure this will blow over in a few days but I think you should all come with me. Now.”
“What?” Julia was alarmed and panicking again. “Where?”
“Back to the labs. It’s totally secure, there’s a guard on the gate and it’s a lot safer than anywhere else. There are crude but acceptable sleeping arrangements that we have all been using for the last few days and it means I don’t have to worry about you anymore. A lot of the staff have been staying there and some have gone to get their families already. I have got to go back; more than ever I have to be there now. And it will help me a lot if I know that you are all there and safe.”
Julia nodded. Rory was whining and George was still looking upstairs. Jason checked his watch impatiently.
“We have got to go immediately though, in case a curfew is imposed here and the roads are all blocked. Is that okay with you all? You too George.”
“Just one thing,” George said looking doubtful, “what about Mum?”
It was Jason’s turn to avoid his younger brother’s eyes.
“We can’t leave her,” George frowned. “She isn’t capable of looking after herself.”
“We can’t take her with us, it’s too risky. The fact that she’s been getting more aggressive, I just think we can’t take that chance. We don’t know what she’s going to do…”
He trailed off, not sure exactly what he thought or what to say. This was not something that he had planned. When he drove home he had not had any firm ideas, he only wanted to get back to his family. But now that the UK was in a state of emergency and things were deteriorating at such an alarming rate, this was definitely the right action to take, to protect his family. And his mother? He could not even bring himself to think of it. George was right, she was not capable of looking after herself but worse than that, if she was becoming aggressive like so many others now, then she really was a danger to everybody.
He put a stop to his train of thought as it was heading somewhere terrible and unacceptable. He focused on his family instead. “Okay kids, we are going to go away for a few days. We have got to go right now though so I need you to be good, get a couple of games to bring with you but that’s it. Please go to your play room and choose what you want to bring.”
They scampered off chatting to each other, sounding quite excited and Jason turned to Julia. “Right, just bare essentials. Pack a quick bag with a couple of changes of clothes, toiletries, only what you really need, and then let’s go. Whatever happens we must not get stuck here.”
Julia disappeared immediately upstairs but George lingered a moment, holding his brother’s stare; the futility reflecting in his eyes what Jason felt in his heart.
“Jas, I can’t just leave her. You go, I’ll stay.”
Jason started to protest but George raised a hand, silencing him. “Look we’re wasting time and as you said, we haven’t got much of it. I can’t go with you bro and you know you’d do exactly the same in my position. I’ll stay and look after her. When you’re able, then come and get us. It’ll be all right.”
Jason was close to tears. He looked George in the eyes and it actually seemed that his younger brother believed what he was saying, that everything would work out and they would be reunited sometime soon. Jason tried to believe him but his doubts told him otherwise. Finally he shrugged and nodded.
“Okay but listen - be really careful with her. Find a way of barricading her in the room and every time you go in check first that she is not aggressive. And carry some kind of weapon with you at all times. All of that military training might come in handy after all.”
George snorted incredulously but Jason took hold of his shoulder sternly. “I’m not joking, I mean it. She may become violent and dangerous, even towards her own son. Be careful and we’ll come for you as soon as we can.”
George took a step back but the sceptical look had gone and been replaced with one of acceptance; or was it fear?
The children were assembled first and waiting by the front door. Rory was wearing his Spider Man outfit and Isabelle had on a pair of jeans and a red and white striped jumper, her training shoes that flashed every time she took a step and her doggy back-pack which she had called Muffy. Julia solemnly walked downstairs holding some blankets and an overnight bag that was bulging. She was wearing the pink duffle coat that he had bought her for her last birthday and her white gym shoes. Poking out of the top of the bag Jason could see her hair-dryer; he smiled thinly as this was hardly an essential survival item, but he did not have the heart to say anything. George came last. His expression was grim and resigned and this time neither brother could look each other in the eye.
“Okay, everyone outside, I forgot to say goodbye to Mum so I’ll just nip upstairs, won’t be a sec. Please get everybody in the car George and start it up for me.”
He could feel the lie stumble as it tripped off his tongue and his cheeks burning with guilt as the rest trudged outside, leaving him alone in the house with his mother and his shame.
She lay quietly asleep under her bed-covers. Her breathing was slow and rasping as though she had a terrible chest infection. He watched her for a moment and tried to convince himself that she was all right but the pallor of her skin, the red blemishes and small lesions that had formed even since he had last seen her were evidence that she was most definitely anything but okay.
“I’m so sorry Mum, this is all my fault. I’m so very sorry.”
He felt a terrible surge of guilt and tears welled up in his eyes, but an excited screech from Isabelle reminded him of his responsibility now and he forced the tears away, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. He picked up the red cushion from the chair in the corner and grasped it in his hands for a moment whilst regarding her with an unreal, discorporate feeling. He walked slowly towards her, stopped by her bedside and hesitated. Could he reall
y do it? Her condition was certainly deteriorating and it was only a matter of time until she became violent. He was almost certain of that. Was it better to leave George alone with her to be attacked and injured? Or could he really do this thing to his mother? Just then her breathing became a little irregular. She frowned and let out a small gasp as though in pain. He looked at her again and shook his head, straightened and tossed the cushion back onto the chair. No. No, he had done her enough injustice as it was, merely by creating this monstrous drug. He could not wrong her further. He bent down to kiss her gently on the forehead.
“I love you Mum. God bless you. Goodbye.”
At that her eyes flickered open. The whites were bloodshot and smouldering. The pupils were nothing more than vacant holes of wrath and insanity. Her mouth contorted into a snarling sneer with a hiss. Her hand grabbed him firmly by the wrist, pulling him down towards her stained and snapping teeth.
CHAPTER 4
The gates of RAF Headley Court were locked just before the state of emergency had been declared in the UK. Those in the guardroom could see down the driveway which was shrouded by trees to the main road. In the final hours before the curfew and martial law were introduced, cars sped by the entrance to the base, probably driven by people trying to get to family or seeking a safer location in which to hide from the ensuing insanity. The roads then fell silent for some time with only the occasional police riot-van or army vehicle screeching past. Finally even those reminders of humanity ceased. Not all personnel had actually been on the base at the time. The normal operating staff numbered between sixty and seventy which included those involved with security, catering, administration, supply and logistics, the medical branch and those responsible for military transport otherwise known as MT. Most of these were either from the army or RAF, the remainder being civilian contractors. Together with families there were anything up to roughly one hundred and fifty people associated with the station at any one time and at full capacity there could be as many as thirty patients being cared for and going through rehabilitation. In addition there was a capability to handle approximately twenty-five students in aeromedicine lectures. After the gates were locked only forty-two people were on the base, an alarmingly small pool of resources.
Basic amenities had continued to work for a while after the state of emergency and there had been irregular news updates on the TV and radio for a couple of days. The military had taken to patrolling in large numbers and a strict curfew was introduced. Unfortunately the situation seemed to bring out the lowest common denominator onto the streets. As the emergency services became more and more stretched, accepted behavioural norms started to erode, buildings were burned and some inner-city areas became inaccessible for the police. There was widespread looting as people sought to take advantage of the situation which centred on luxury goods at first. After a few days as the situation deteriorated, people began to realise just how serious it was. Hysteria spread like the sickness itself. Even normally law-abiding individuals became determined to protect and provide for themselves and their families, and many people started looting for food and water. This led to the military being far busier. Not only did they have to prevent this societal breakdown but also they had to try and identify and contain any people who had contracted this strange illness. Not knowing who was sick or healthy made matters extremely difficult and many more people were exposed to the condition than would have been if the curfew had been more strictly observed.
Mobile telephone reception had ceased and normal landline telephones sometime thereafter, so anybody who had become separated from loved ones during that period no longer knew if they were alive, dead, or worse still – infected. The TV broadcasts soon stopped but the radio announcements came hourly. They included information on the curfew, how large a military presence was in each area, the state of amenities including water and electricity, basic survival advice and information on the diseased. The last broadcast was repeated a few times over a period of several hours without being changed, as if those responsible for gathering and disseminating the information were no longer in a position to provide that service, the last words of a dying society. Then suddenly, without warning or explanation, even those updates ceased. The voices were replaced by static leaving all at Headley Court feeling isolated, alone and very, very scared.
They saw no one, either on foot or in a vehicle for a week before they next had any outside contact. Corporal Bannister had been smoking in the guardroom at dusk with Corporal Gillen from the admin section when they noticed a man shuffling along the main road.
“Hey there’s someone there, look,” Gillen was on his feet immediately and pointed excitedly.
Bannister peered through the gloom at the figure but something instinctively just seemed wrong. It might have been his unsteady gait as he made his way slowly forwards or perhaps merely the fact that they had not seen anyone else until now, but Bannister was about to advise caution. However he was not quick enough as Gillen rushed outside and called out to the man. He was dressed in jeans and a striped shirt but it was not until he approached that they noticed he had only one shoe on and the shirt was ragged and half undone. When Gillen had shouted he seemed not to have heard at first and Bannister felt a surge of relief, but then the man stopped, turned, raised a hand almost in a salute and made a haunting, moaning sound like an injured stag. He started gradually lurching towards them. Both soldiers slowly took their SA80 rifles off their shoulders. They switched the safety catches off whilst walking cautiously backwards away from the fence.
“Now look what you’ve done, fool.” Bannister angrily rounded on his colleague.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise,” Gillen replied but it was too late.
The man was running now with both arms held out in front of him as if he were blind or feeling in front of himself in the dark, and he was still howling at them in all-consuming rage. He hit the fence without even attempting to stop, as though he had not seen it and despite the fact that the gate was locked both soldiers recoiled, unsure of what to do and feeling entirely unnerved. This was the first time either had seen any of the infected and it was a truly frightening experience. The man crouched at the fence clawing and banging it in fury as he snarled at them. Phlegm and froth sprayed out of his open, twisted mouth which had dried blood stains around the edges. His enraged, red eyes flickered between the two of them as though he held them responsible for some heinous slight against him. His skin was pale and flaky with a purple tinge to it and thin red veins spread out from his nose and eyes, across his cheeks.
“What’s wrong with him?” Gillen asked, looking frightened and puzzled but Bannister just shrugged and kept gaping.
They stood back indecisively from the fence with their guns trained on him for a few moments. Finally Bannister told Gillen to go back to the main building and get help. When he was gone Bannister cautiously approached the fence, horrified but fascinated in a truly morbid way, by the man whose nonsensical tirade had not let up once. In fact the man seemed to be getting louder and started trying to climb the fence which really unnerved Bannister who followed his progress closely with his rifle. He did not get far before he slipped off. Just then Gillen arrived back with Group Captain Denny and Private Bruce Matthews, an athletic, black soldier from the supply and logistics section who was fresh out of training and had been at the station for only a week. For a while they all stood staring and flinching periodically at the outbursts.
“Well we can’t just leave him there,” Denny finally snapped.
Bannister raised his weapon and pointed it at the man but Denny admonished him. “No idiot, we can’t shoot him. He may be sick but he is still human you know. Hang on a sec, I have an idea.”
Bannister and Private Matthews approached close to the man which made him even more animated. They then slowly walked around the perimeter of the fence a short way, with him following and pawing at the barrier between them in irate frustration. Gillen then opened the gates so that could Denny drive a
Land Rover out. Bannister and Matthews disengaged from the man and with the gates locked behind him, Denny attracted his attention with shouts and blasts of the horn. The man turned, threw his head back and howled like a wild animal before doubling over practically on all fours and tearing after the vehicle. Denny led him at a fast running pace sufficiently far from the base, several road junctions away before turning the vehicle around. The streets were eerily deserted. He started to feel vulnerable and brought the car to a sudden halt. With a knot in his stomach he attempted a three point turn but the road was not quite wide enough. For a frantic moment he had to reverse and turn once more. The extra time spent fumbling gave the man opportunity to reach his quarry. With a scream he thumped into the driver’s window of the Land Rover. The glass cracked as he splattered it with spittle. Denny flinched and gave a yelp. With shaking hands he slammed the gear lever forwards and stamped on the accelerator, knocking the man to the floor as he fled back to the station.
It was the first time any of them had ventured out since the state of emergency had been declared. He passed just one other vehicle, a car that had crashed and caught fire. There were the remains of a charred body in the front of it and the sight truly disturbed him. To have gone off station alone had been a mistake and the experience had really traumatised him. He hated being outside and could not wait to be back in the shelter of Headley Court. By the time the gates were safely locked behind him again he was trembling and felt nauseous.
Like many military establishments the station had its own backup electricity supply provided by generators, but there was only a limited amount of diesel kept on base for that purpose. The generators would not provide enough power to run everything that required electricity and the supply of diesel quickly dwindled. Candles were predominantly used at night and only the most essential services were run during the day. It was quite possible to get more fuel, both petrol and diesel, from local petrol stations, but it was thought best to avoid too many journeys out, if at all possible.
The Blood of the Infected (Book 1): Once Bitten, Twice Die Page 7
