Aftermath: The complete collection

by John Wilkinson

  ‘They’ve sent the army’ he laughed, as our company approached the entrance, a large metal gate built into the fence. ‘You’re a bit late lads, this place went to shit a while ago.’

  ‘Are you in charge?’ Sergeant Davis asked, stopping below the garage.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Can I speak to whoever is in charge?’

  The man spoke for a moment on his walkie talkie, and then signaled to the guard by the gate to open it.

  ‘Take them to Bill’ he said, to the man on the door. We followed him, as he walked through the small town towards a large house set back off the road, near the town hall. The buildings within the town walls had any missing windows boarded up, I could see people in some houses, a couple cooking in one and a man just sat reading in another. There were others on the street, including children playing and men working on the exterior of a house. As we reached the gate to the property, the man said ‘Bill will be in there,’ as he turned around and headed back to his post. We walked up the path to the front door, where we were greeted by two security guards.

  ‘We’re here to see Bill’ said Sergeant Davis.

  ‘Go straight in’ said the guard, opening the door for us. All the security around the town were carrying weapons, but they were never threatening, and had no problems with our rifles. Inside the house, we found Bill and his wife, Paula, sat in their conservatory drinking a glass of wine. He was maybe in his fifties, with brown hair, greying at the roots and probably dyed. Clean shaven and just about the most well dressed man I have met, post war, with a wife somewhere around thirty years his junior.

  ‘Oh look Paula’ said Bill, standing up from his chair to greet us. ‘We have visitors. My name is Bill Grayson, and I am the member of parliament for the City of Edinburgh.’

  His opening statement amused the members of Blue and White Company, but undeterred, he continued.

  ‘Welcome to Camp Paula, named after my beautiful wife. How can I help you fine gentlemen?’

  ‘With all respect, there is no parliament to be a member of.’

  ‘In that case there is no army for you to be a member of.’

  ‘While the army still has its structure-’

  ‘If there is no government paying your wages, then you are doing the same thing I am. All I want to do is keep my constituents safe, and this camp does that.’

  ‘Well I cannot argue with that. We are currently on a mission to destroy the disease kuru, which has been spreading through the Pentland Hills, towards your camp. We hear you’ve had dealings with the disease yourself?’

  ‘Yeah we have, early sightings suggested they were zombies’ he laughed. ‘Crazy talk like that is not conducive to a happy camp, so we had to look into it. We contained them within the hills, and have killed and buried many. Since then we have constructed a fence all the way along Bigger road (A702) to the A720. Joe Dodman (a local farmer) has been patrolling his land, killing all infected who stumbled onto it. We then extended the fence up to the A720, along his land. Up until then, the town of Hillend was the only area we’d fenced off.’

  ‘The army would like to thank you for your help, hopefully with the completion of our mission, we will wipe the disease out of Scotland. So you don’t believe any have got past you, or slipped through the net?’

  ‘I cannot say for sure, but our patrols have covered the area in question, thoroughly.’

  ‘How have you been identifying them?’

  ‘Probably the same way you have.’

  ‘How many people are in this camp Bill?’

  ‘We have around eight hundred, mostly locals and-’

  ‘Do you have any females within the ranks?’

  ‘We do, but they are well protected.’

  ‘Have you had any run ins with Torriero?’

  Bill smiled, before responding. ‘I’ve had a few. The City of Edinburgh has had a problem with him for over twenty years, and I have been on the council in some form or another for the majority of that time. But he hasn’t ventured up this far since the attack, the conditions are not to his liking.’

  ‘Well we would still advise the safest place for those females would be in our camp, run by the army.’

  ‘The same army that is about to go to war?’

  ‘Camp Blue is the safest place in this country, run by nearly seven thousand service men, of varying ranks.’

  ‘I will thank you for your offer, but we’re all happy here, no need to make any dangerous journeys. Can we offer you some lunch, maybe a drink of wine?’

  ‘No we are fine thanks, we have a long day ahead. We will follow the A702 up to the motorway, and make sure the fence is intact for the whole distance, and check for any strays that might have been missed.’

  ‘Well we wish you a safe trip then.’

  We thanked Bill, and Paula, who had retreated back to the conservatory, and wished them well. We were escorted back to the front gate, where we climbed back into the Viking. We followed the fence along the A702, only stopping to burn the remains of bodies lying in the road on a couple of occasions. We past three guard towers along the A702, each one occupied by an observer. Camp Paula had done a respectable job of destroying any kuru that came within walking distance of the camp, leaving us little to do. As the A720 came into view through the muggy fog and dirty ash clouds hanging over Edinburgh, we turned around and headed back towards the fields opposite the Pentland Hills, as we ate our vacuum packed lunch. That punishing open landscape is where Emma and I had the tense moment with a group of kuru sufferers, as they walked past us while we hid in the long grass. It seems like a lifetime ago, and I’m now going back under very different circumstances. The vehicle had protected us from the conditions, for the short time it took us to reach the search zone, but as soon as we set foot outside we were reminded of the weather’s power. We tooled up, and set off across the barron landscape, searching for any signs of kuru. Towns in the distance, disappeared into the darkness. White ash was tumbling to the floor, it looked like snow, as it was blown around by the winds. Visibility was that bad, Murphy drove the Viking between us, with the headlights on as we searched the landscape. After an hour or so with no sightings, it became obvious the area was clear, if there had been any infected, they would have died due to the conditions. We just had a few stray bodies to burn, some of them looked like they’d been there for weeks, so black and distorted they were. I looked behind us, and could see the specks of fire, still burning in the darkness. I also noticed something I’d seen before that worried me, over to the south west of our position. Lights, flickering in the sky, followed moments later by a rumble. It moved quickly, and it wasn’t long before Sergeant Davis stopped us, and told us to look at the horizon. In the distance, as the winds around us suddenly started to kick up, and the lightning and thunder got closer together, a noticeable wall appeared ahead. But this was no ordinary wall, it was a wall of rain, beating the ground like a fighter pummelling his opponent. It came out of the fog, with speed and determination. When the rain hit us, the power nearly knocked me off my feet. One moment we were dry, the next we were literally soaked. We ran back to the Viking to get out of it, as it clattered against the bodywork. For ten minutes the rain became hail, the size of golf balls, and then back to rain again. As we waited for it to pass over, the radio, charging by the electrical point, started beeping.

  ‘This is Sergeant Marsh, of The Latics Company, if any companies are listening, please respond. Over and out.’

  Sergeant Davis picked up the receiver, and answered the call.

  ‘This is Sergeant Davis of Blue and White Company, receiving your message, over and out.’

  ‘We have a sighting of the wild dogs, we are currently positioned bottom left of OS Grid reference NT078521, on the road, just behind the wall at the entrance to the forest.’

  Little D handed his
brother a map, which he unfolded and found their position as he responded.

  ‘We can be there in thirty minutes’ he said, signaling to Murphy to start up the engine and get moving.

  ‘Hold your position, observe the targets, and plan a manoeuvre. Over and out.’

  ‘Will do. Over and out.’

  Soon we were sliding over the muddy ground towards the A702, with visibility through the windscreen troublesome to say the least. Forty minutes later, we spotted Latics Company, crouching down by the wall on the opposite side of the road. They waved us over, as we pulled the Viking onto the verge beside them. The rain was still coming down by the bucket load, Latics Company looked drenched, as we stepped out of relative comfort into the rain.

  ‘They’re around a hundred yards away’ said Sergeant Marsh, pointing in their general direction. ‘Eleven o’clock, behind the first bunch of trees to our right. They haven’t moved for around fifty minutes, I think they’re feeding on something.’

  ‘How many dogs?’ Sergeant Davis asked, peeping over the wall, as the rain poured off it.

  ‘I couldn’t get a confirmed number on that, but we believe around thirty.’

  ‘What do you want us to do?’

  ‘We’re going to fan out along this wall, as you backtrack to the entrance for the public footpath, half a click back, and then follow the path around the dogs, positioning yourselves there’ he said, pointing over the wall at a derelict barn on the outskirts of the forest.

  ‘From there, fan out surrounding the targets from the north west, as we squeeze from here. We will take them out on my signal.’

  Attacking while they were preoccupied feeding, seemed like a decent plan, so we headed off along the road towards the footpath, arriving at the entrance in about eight minutes. We quietly took our turn with the wrought iron gate, and continued over the muddy ground, that was covered in dog paw prints. The ground was soft but slippy, a mixture of mud, ash and dead leaves, now getting soaked. The footpath led us away from the dogs at first, but soon bent back towards them. We could hear them long before we got a sighting on them, their howls and barking made all the more sinister by the eerie atmosphere, and dark rainy conditions. We kept a good distance away as we made our way towards the derelict barn, that was set well back from the path. There was no direct route to the building, we had to go off path, through the trees to a six foot high red stone wall. Rain was dripping off it, as I got into position to help lift Sergeant Davis up, who climbed to the top and scouted the area. He then signaled for the team to climb over, starting with Little D. I stayed in position as everyone climbed over, then using the foot holes between the brickwork and Sergeant Davis’s help, I lifted myself over. We lowered ourselves down onto the moist, soft ground and continued around to the back of the building, where we joined up with the rest of the team. ‘Keane, take up a position on the second floor, overlooking the dogs’ whispered Sergeant Davis, pointing to a glass less window high over to our left. Keane climbed though a downstairs window, and we made our way past the overgrown garden, that covered the whole side of the property, and took up position. The rain was pouring off the roof, and cascading to the floor. I took a moment to stay out of it under the overhang, as we observed for a few minutes. We could see the dogs about one hundred yards away, and Latics Company, about two hundred. We got onto the radio, and informed Sergeant Marsh we were in position, and ready. The message came back to move, so we crept out, still in formation, and spread to around five metres from our nearest comrade. I held my rifle in position, as I stopped in the long grass at the front of the house. I looked up at the window and could see the barrel of Keane’s rifle, poking out of the top left window, partly hidden by overgrown ivy. The dogs were looking aggressive, some were scrapping, fighting, trying to get near the food. Ahead of us was more long grass, covering what once was a path, which led to the opening, where the dogs were feeding. The whole area was surrounded by dying or dead trees, some still upright, many lying on their sides. A large open field was to our right, an obvious escape route, should they get spooked. The rain was still coming down, the sound masking our approach, making everything we stepped on soft. We started to enclose around the dogs, but it wasn’t long before they sensed something was happening. ‘Fire!’ Shouted Sergeant Marsh, as Latics Company opened up on the dogs. At that point they ran, so I knelt on one knee, and fired at anything with four legs. Bullets tore into flesh, tree trunks and the muddy ground, it thumped with the impact of the bullets. The dogs yelped, as bullets ripped through their bodies. Some of the dogs got past the initial wave of fire, and ran at the men, a couple getting to within six feet before being taken down. One dog was running at me, as I struggled to get my rifle positioned, a bullet from Keane’s rifle whistled inches from my right ear, before shattering the dog’s skull. When the gun fire had finished, the bodies of forty three dogs lay scattered across the forest floor. Keane came bounding out of the building, full of himself as normal. ‘I’m costing myself money here Driver, keeping you alive’ he laughed, climbing up onto the stone wall, outside the property. ‘How close was that dog to taking you down?’

  ‘It wasn’t as close as your fucking bullet’ I replied, as we both laughed. I was intent on pushing him off the wall, but as I reached him there was a noise from behind as three dogs jumped out of the downstairs windows, and ran at us. I have to admit I was slow to react, Rhino shot one, as did Sergeant Davis, but the middle one went for Keane. He jumped down from the wall, just as it launched itself at him, sinking it’s teeth into his rucksack. Keane stumbled forward, and with the weight of his equipment turning his body as he fell, he landed on his side and back. The dog went for Keane’s throat, causing him to protect it with his arm. No one could risk taking a shot, for the chance it would go through the animal and into Keane. It bit through his uniform, and he screamed as it’s teeth drew blood. I pulled my Welrod out of my pocket, and in one quick motion, kicked the dog in the head as hard as I could, and fired two shots into its body, killing it instantly. I dragged it off Keane, as the rest of the company picked him up, and removed his jacket. The wound was not too deep, but it had punctured the skin in nine places, and was bleeding. ‘It’s fine’ Keane said, trying to reassure himself. ‘Look through my rucksack for a bandage.’

  Captain Paul Howard, Latics Company medic, arrived and had a look at the wound, which was swelling and looked tender. He cleaned the wound, placed sterile antiseptic strips across the broken skin, and bandaged the wound up. ‘You’re going to have to have that looked at back at camp’ said Captain Howard, to the visible annoyance of Keane. ‘Have you got your injections?’

  ‘Yeah, on the Viking.’

  ‘Make sure to use them as soon as you get back.’

  As Keane was being treated, Rhino, Little D, myself, plus a few members of Latics Company, moved all the dogs corpses, and put them in a pile. I would never have pegged these dogs as dangerous, some were clearly domestic none aggressive pets, still with dog collars around their necks. They wouldn’t be attacking people under normal circumstances, but with no one feeding them for the past three months, they’ve had to find their own food, and they’d done that. Where the dogs had been feeding, were the remains of a human. Only one I think, it was hard to tell, they’d been torn to pieces, with very little waste. Rhino torched everything, the area filled with the smell of burning flesh, and fur. Latics Company headed off for their final objective, as did we. At the Viking, Keane retrieved the medication, and injected himself. Sergeant Davis plotted our new objective, twenty minutes back along the A702 towards Hillend. Our final search zone was just outside the Pentland Hills, and included the remains of ‘Adventure Park,’ where Emma and I had stopped for chocolate bars and cans of lemonade. This time we went through the front entrance, and pulled up the Viking opposite a fleet of abandoned stagecoaches, probably left the morning of the attack. We all climbed out, except Keane, who we decided should rest. The rain
storm had blown over, but the sky was still black with ash, and the wind was blowing a gale. Sergeant Davis told Murphy and Rhino to search the car park, that had roughly thirty vehicles abandoned in it, while we searched the reception. We walked through the ticket lines, with metal chains still separating the lanes, and past the ticket office. The inside had been ransacked, but not before it had been burnt out. We searched the front end of the adventure park, which included a toilet block, cafe and shop. The outside of everything was covered in a grimy black film, and everything flammable had burned to ash. We searched each cubicle in the toilet block, leaving nothing to chance. All the mirrors were broken, and in pieces in the sinks. Rubbish lay on the floor, that was caked in mud and ash walked in by hundreds of feet. The cafe had been raided for any food, cupboards left open, empty boxes and plastic containers thrown on the floor. There was a noticeable trail from the entrance to the kitchen, muddy feet belonging to individuals with only one thing on their mind. The tables were still laid out with cutlery, from the day everyone disappeared. The inside of the shop was largely untouched, row upon row of toys and cuddly animals, which gave me an idea. ‘Are you in charge of Father Christmas visiting Camp Blue?’ I asked Sergeant Davis.