Z - Arrival / Z - London / Z - Payback: Books 1, 2 & 3 of the Zombie Apocalypse

by Hatchett

  There was a cry of joy when Kelly saw Gina enter the room. “Thank God you’re alive!” she exclaimed as she got to her feet and rushed to give Gina a hug. “We thought all of you in the Rear Galley had been killed.”

  “Very nearly,” replied Gina, hugging her back. “It’s a long story! Where’s John?”

  “He didn’t make it,” Kelly replied sadly. “This is all of us who managed to get out.”

  Jack made the introductions and thanked Gina, Milt, and Kacey for what they had done. “I saw it all on the monitors and you were all very brave,” he commended them. Turning to Bear and Irish he asked, “have we learnt anything new?”

  “Only that if you’re covered in blood and guts like Gina, they will leave you alone. They obviously think you’re dead like them,” Irish advised.

  “Ok. Just so you’re all aware, the zombies have now gone through Baggage Reclaim, Customs, the Arrivals Hall, and Check-In. They have also managed to get out of the exits and found their way to the tube and train stations. We’ve lost Charlie team and there has been no response from any of the other security personnel in and around Terminal 3. I’ve upgraded the airport alert status to ‘Red’ but I’m afraid the horse may have already bolted. Some idiot allowed the ground staff to continue with their usual duties and they opened the rear door of the plane. This let out more zombies onto the tarmac and they have obliterated the surrounding area including the baggage handling area. There are bodies all over the place, soon to be zombies themselves no doubt.”

  “Just as well the rear door was opened as I’m not sure I would have lasted in the Rear Galley much longer,” Gina pointed out. “Then I wouldn’t have found Milt and Kacey and what happened at Gate 7 may have had a completely different outcome.”

  Jack continued, “The good news is that the zombies have not reached any of the other Terminals yet, so these are now on lockdown and the people inside should be safe for the time being. Medical have locked themselves in, so again, they should be safe for the time being. I now need to make some more calls to update the powers-that-be. Bear, Irish, if you are up to it, can you do a recce of Level 1 to see if it can be cleared? Just be careful and don’t do anything to attract interest.”

  “Will do, Boss,” replied Irish as he and Bear moved towards the door, removing their knives from the sheaths attached to their legs.

  “Sean, Travis, take our guests to the changing rooms so they can shower and get cleaned up. Find them some clothes and get them armed then wait in the Briefing Room.”

  Travis and Sean led Sarah, Paul, Andy, Kelly, Gina, Milt, and Kacey out of Jack’s office towards the changing rooms. As they left there was a muffled explosion which had obviously come from outside.

  “What’s that?” Gina asked.

  “No idea, but I’ll find out,” replied Jack. He shut the door and walked behind his desk and sat down with a bump. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples, feeling some of the stress drain away. As he re-opened his eyes he saw the light on his phone was flashing. This was the call he had been expecting…and dreading.

  40

  Day 1

  09:55 GMT

  Heathrow

  As the rampage was going on in Baggage Reclaim, the zombies on the apron and around the baggage handling area were still on the move, following sounds and any attacking any targets they could find. A group of around fifty had been attracted by the noises made by planes taking off and landing on the Southern runway nearby and had been moving slowly in that direction.

  They crossed the Southern Airside Road and walked across the grass onto the Southern runway just as Lufthansa Flight 4559 from Munich was landing from the East. The Airbus 320-200 carrying one hundred and sixty people had touched down and was beginning to slow when the pilot spotted what looked like a group of people crossing the runway. He realised that he wasn’t even at the half way point so there was no way he could stop in time and he didn’t have enough runway to take off again without ploughing into the crowd. His only option was to try and swerve past them. Looking quickly, he saw that there were several planes and gas tankers to his right next to the terminal, so he automatically turned left.

  The plane left the runway just before hitting the crowd, the pilot applying the maximum brakes and reverse thrust. The plane crossed the grass, the wheels skidding against the wet and soft surface. The plane then hit the next concrete apron in front of the Southern Cargo Area, causing a tyre to blow out and throwing people up in their seats to a chorus of loud screams. The plane managed to gain some traction being back on the firm surface, but it was still slick with rain and the plane still had significant momentum. The pilot knew that he was going to crash so quickly turned off the engines to reduce the possibility of fires. Within seconds of him doing this the plane’s left-hand wing crashed into the massive main cargo handling office and was sheared off, the Rolls-Royce jet engine slowing down but still turning, workers running for their lives in all directions. The fuselage crashed onto its left-hand side causing sparks to fly in all directions, the right wing sticking up into the air at forty-five degrees. It continued its slide through the middle of the DHL cargo hanger, destroying several vehicles and killing several cargo handlers before ploughing into the Courier Facilities hanger and coming to an abrupt stop. Further back, the sparks from the undercarriage had ignited the aviation fuel spilt after the left wing had broken off and the almost invisible blue flame quickly followed the trail left by the plane’s slide. It didn’t take long to reach the fuselage and the plane erupted into a fireball, sending a spray of fiery aviation fuel in all directions, causing nearby buildings and vehicles to catch fire. The Courier Facilities hanger was filled with flammable materials like cardboard boxes and paper and was soon turned into a raging inferno. Luckily the flames did not spread to the aviation fuel tanks situated across Sandringham Road at the back of the Courier Facilities hanger.

  Many of the workers directly in front of the accident were able to get away by running towards the grassy areas next to the runway, but it was straight into the path of the oncoming zombies. Other workers managed to run Eastwards to safer hangers nearby and others ran behind the hangers where they were brought to a halt by the perimeter fence skirting the Southern Perimeter Road.

  The Southern Perimeter Road itself was busy as usual with post rush-hour traffic moving swiftly along its dual-carriageway. As the plane went up in a balloon of fire and smoke the cars and vans closest to the explosion slammed on their brakes to avoid pieces of debris which were beginning to rain down haphazardly across the road. A blue Ford Focus travelling Eastwards in the inside lane, driven by a man in his fifties, braked suddenly. A transit van too close behind him had no time to brake or swerve, especially as the driver had been trying to read a text on his mobile phone and look in the direction of the explosion at the same time. The transit piled into the back of the Focus at fifty-five miles per hour with a tremendous bang. The Focus was shunted forwards into the braking car in front, the driver suffering whiplash as his airbag went off before the front of the car crumpled, trapping him in the wreckage.

  The female driver of a Vauxhall Astra behind the transit didn’t see any brake lights but, when the van came to abrupt halt with its rear end flipping up into the air before bouncing back down to the tarmac, she instinctively turned her steering wheel to the right to try to get into the outside lane and avoid a collision. As she swerved, her Astra was hit by a Range Rover Sport going just over the sixty miles per hour speed limit and was catapulted into the air before crashing down on its side and rolling down the outer lane before crossing the central reservation into oncoming traffic. The woman was already dead before the Astra disintegrated at the hands of a HGV coming from the opposite direction.

  More cars, vans and lorries joined the pile up on both sides of the dual-carriageway, effectively blocking it off in both directions. People from vehicles which had managed to stop in time were getting out and running to the scene of destruction to see if they could give any assist
ance.

  41

  Day 1

  09:55 GMT

  Heathrow

  After attacking workers next to the runway, the zombies had continued their march into the cargo bays and offices. The original fifty doubled and doubled again as the attacks continued. One group of zombies continued their march Eastwards towards Terminal 4 and the Hilton Hotel. Another group were attracted by the flames and moved towards the burning plane and Courier Facilities hanger. They skirted the hanger on both sides; those moving directly South came across a large group of workers standing at a safe distance behind the main cargo handling office against the perimeter fence and swiftly moved in their direction; those continuing to move West crossed Sandringham Road into Seaford Road and one of the many airport exit barriers. The barrier nor the staff running it were equipped to cope with the zombie attack and quickly succumbed.

  The zombies moved passed the exit barrier onto the now stationery Southern Perimeter Road. There were hundreds of people milling around the scene, their attention drawn to the flames coming from the airport and the vehicle wreckages in front of them. Few were aware of the zombies closing in on them until it was too late.

  Just sixty metres away across the Southern Perimeter Road was Oak Road. This led to a residential area on the outskirts of Stanwell. It wasn’t long before people were running in this direction trying to escape, slowly followed by the zombie horde.

  42

  Day 1

  09:55 GMT

  Heathrow Terminal 3

  The Inner Ring just outside Terminal 3 was packed with cars and taxis making individual drop offs and pick-ups. Airport buses were also lined up outside Departures, bringing in travellers from local car parks before moving on to Arrivals to pick up more travellers who were ready to return to their cars.

  As was usually the case for the London area in general, people minded their own business and took little notice of what was going on around them. Few registered the considerable number of passengers running out of all the exits and it was only the odd scream which briefly attracted their attention.

  Those entering Departures were equally ignorant of what was happening in front of them, putting the disturbances down to rowdy groups of foreigners or yobbos. They were more interested in finding their flight on the monitors and the check in area they needed to find. By the time they realised what was happening there was nowhere to run. A few left their luggage where it stood and tried to escape back through the doors they had originally come through; those most desperate rudely pushed into, past and over other passengers who were on their way into Departures.

  Most of the people in the Inner Ring had heard the loud explosion coming from somewhere behind Terminal 3, and it wasn’t long before they could see smoke rising into the air. Many paused with bags halfway in or out of cars, others just standing still, looking up into the sky. They continued to ignore what was now a stampede coming from Arrivals, believing that it was just a response to the explosion and wondering what it might mean for their travel plans. Zombies trailed the passengers coming out of the exit and quickly diverted their attention to the easier targets. People were rapidly taken down, blood spraying across the Inner Ring. The zombies continued their momentum into the short stay car parks, along Camberley Road and into the car rental offices. Car crashes inside the car parks and along the nearest roads were becoming commonplace as drivers swerved to avoid what they thought were pedestrians walking in the middle of the road. It didn’t take long for the road network to become impassable, giving the zombies even more easy targets.

  Some of the people attacked managed to escape with just a small scratch or bite on their hands and arms. These passengers joined the mass of people trying to run away. Some were fortunate enough to reach the coach station where they managed to board one of the local National Express coach services to Watford, Reading and Woking. Several coaches managed to leave before the whole airport was overrun.

  Similarly, dozens of injured people managed to get themselves into the tube and train stations before they were shut down. They boarded the first available trains simply to get away from the mayhem at Heathrow, not really caring where they were being taken. Those on the tube were taken towards key underground stations like Earl’s Court and South Kensington on the Piccadilly Line. The Heathrow Express trains took people to the Paddington Main Line station in just fifteen minutes.

  43

  Day 1

  10:05 GMT

  Heathrow Terminal 3

  In his office, Jack reached forward and picked up the phone. On the other end was his immediate boss, Sir James Curtis-Smyth, Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis or effectively the Met’s Police Commissioner. He was a pompous and opinionated man of sixty-three, five feet nine inches tall with a shock of white hair. He was also grossly overweight with a large protruding gut and a red bulbous nose, which had obviously sniffed too many glasses of brandy over the years. He was the same age and a close friend of the Prime Minister with whom he had been schooled at Eton, a fact that he was quick to tell anyone who’d listen. ‘I wonder how he rose to his position’, Jack thought sarcastically to himself.

  “Commissioner,” Jack acknowledged his boss.

  “Robinson. I’ve been watching events unfold and it isn’t a pretty sight. The people are turning into animals.”

  “Yes Sir,” replied Jack. “We’re trying to contain the situation as best we can but we’re seriously outnumbered and these zombies are hard to kill. There’s just been an explosion of some kind and I’m waiting to find out what it was. Is there any news on the arrival of the Hostage and Crisis Negotiation Unit or the SAS?”

  “They were instructed to return to base as soon as we realised it wasn’t a hijack. As for zombies, come now Robinson, we’re all adults. We wouldn’t be in this position if you and your team had dealt with the hooligans running around.”

  “Be that as it may, Sir,” said Jack holding back his temper, “but we need help and we need it quickly. The situation is currently out of control and I don’t have many officers left.”

  “Why don’t you put the airport on lockdown?” the Commissioner asked bluntly.

  “It’s too late for that Sir. The zombies have spread to all parts of the airport and the surrounding area. We thought they were contained in Terminal 3 until we found out too late that the ground staff had inadvertently let them out onto the tarmac. We now need to set up a cordon around the airport and to do that we need the army.”

  “I’ll speak to the Chief of the General Staff, but in the meantime, you need to get a handle on the situation or your position as Head of SO18 will need to be reviewed,” he promised before putting down the phone.

  “Arsehole,” Jack muttered under his breath to the now empty line before replacing his handset. “Arrogant bastard just doesn’t get it.”

  Jack moved swiftly into the Security Command Centre, noting the subdued red lighting, and queried what the explosion had been about.

  “A Lufthansa flight has crashed and exploded in the Southern Cargo Area,” his surveillance Manager, Tom Williams, replied, pointing to the main monitor on the far wall. “The Airport Fire Service and Ambulance Service are responding but judging by the footage it’s a lost cause.”

  Tom was thirty-six years old, five feet nine inches tall and very skinny. With his greying brown hair, brown eyes and glasses perched on a beak-like nose, he looked slightly owlish. He was into books and technology and was often referred to as ‘boffin’, or ‘nerd’ behind his back.

  “Right, I want all outgoing flights grounded and all incoming flights diverted,” Jack ordered. “I want the airport shut down as far as possible. No one in or out.”

  “Sir, we’ve lost contact with all security staff except what’s left of Team Alpha and Team Bravo.”

  “Just do the best you can,” Jack replied as he moved to his seat in the Command Ring.

  As Jack was watching the various monitors around the room, for the first time he saw the full scale
of the carnage. He couldn’t believe it was just over an hour since the doors to the plane had been opened. He wished he was at Lords, watching his favourite sport, cricket. He could be in his Marylebone Cricket Club red and gold blazer and tie, or ‘egg and bacon’ as it was affectionately known, sipping champagne in the Member’s lounge. As his thoughts wandered, the phone on his chair rang and he quickly moved to pick it up.

  “Robinson,” came the voice of the Police Commissioner again. “I’ve spoken to my good friend, General Sir Neville Douglas who is the Chief of the General Staff of the army. The old boy has kindly agreed to send in a few of his troops to help you out. He said he would also send a few helicopters for good measure. The soldiers should be with you in half an hour or so, the helicopters a little sooner. You will need to liaise with Major Simon Fellows.”

  “Sir, I don’t know if you’ve seen the latest coverage, but we need to contain the area as quickly as possible. I think we may already be too late. Half an hour is too long, and we need thousands of soldiers to cordon off the entire airport.”

  “You’ll have to make do with what you’ve got,” came the reply. “I’ve now got to update the PM.” With that, he again put down the phone leaving Jack with another dead line.

  “Get me Major Simon Fellows on the line,” Jack ordered the Surveillance Manager as he got up and moved towards his office.

  44

  Day 1

  10:15 GMT

  Heathrow Terminal 3

  A few minutes later, the phone in Jack’s office rang.

  “Robinson,” he said picking up the handset.

  “Hello. This is Major Simon Fellows of the 1st Battalion of the Grenadier Guards based in Aldershot, Hampshire. My Company is on its way to you and we’ll be supported by a couple of Apache attack helicopters and a couple of Lynx. I’ll be there soon in about ten minutes in one of the heli’s.”