Dystopia

by Jason Chapman

  Dystopia

  By

  Jason Chapman

  Part one of two

  © Jason Chapman 2018.

  First Edition.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored on a retrieval system other than The Amazon Kindle, Kindle Paperwhite, Kindle Fire or Kindle app. Or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the Author.

  Quality declaration

  Please note, this book has been written in UK English

  I have taken every care to produce a quality item. As an independent author it is hard to find people who will edit for a fair price. Most editors and proof-readers cost thousands of pounds. Way beyond the budget of most struggling indie authors. As a result, independent authors are often criticised for producing sloppy work. Packed with mistakes and a poor use of grammar. It can be an uphill struggle against reviewers who ignore the storylines and concentrate on missing full stops or speech marks. Mainstream publishers have even been known to pay individuals to post bad reviews to put off potential readers. There are many indie authors who work hard to perfect their craft. Producing exciting stories for an ever-hungry reading public.

  So, without further ado on with the show. Sit back, relax and just immerse yourself in the story.

  Author’s notes

  The story you are about to read is a work of fiction. Any mention of current events, media organisations, people, including politicians, celebrities or other persons are merely being used to enhance the storyline and should not be considered as fact.

  Do we live in a dystopian world?

  That is the question currently being pondered by scholars the world over.

  Most of us imagine a dystopian world seen through the eyes of fictional writers such as critically acclaimed author Suzanne Collins, whose popular Hunger Games series became a massive box office hit.

  Other dystopian novels are considered as predictions or even warnings the human race is stumbling towards a dystopian future.

  In 1932 Aldous Huxley penned Brave New World, a dark tale about a dystopian future where mind numbing drugs are used to control the population.

  In 2016 there were 64.7 million prescriptions released for antidepressants in the UK alone. This is a 108.5% increase on the 31 million antidepressants dispensed 10 years earlier. That is almost one prescription for every man woman and child in the United Kingdom. Are we now living in the Brave New World Huxley predicted in 1932?

  Anyone who has read dystopian fiction will be familiar with George Orwell’s masterpiece Nineteen Eighty Four. Academics have argued many of Orwell’s predictions are already a reality. Mass surveillance is now common practice in the UK. According to the British Security Industry Association, there are an estimated 4 – 6 million-security cameras in operation throughout the UK. They are in our shops, in our hospitals, schools and town centres. Hundreds of thousands of traffic cameras keep an eye on our road networks.

  For the security services that claim to keep us safe from all kinds of threats CCTV surveillance isn’t enough. In 2013 Edward Snowden sent shockwaves around the world when he released highly classified information relating to the National Security Agency.

  Leaked documents published in the Guardian Newspaper revealed that several security agencies including GCHQ were quietly snooping on millions in the UK using an NSA developed program called Prism.

  Science fiction Author Philip K Dick has also made a number of predictions. Tech companies are racing to build the world’s first android. In 2017 Saudi Arabia granted citizenship to Sophia, a human looking android created by Hansen Robotics.

  Artificial Intelligence is being developed at an alarming rate by tech companies around the world. Many academics have forecast AI will take many jobs in the future. Our transport system will be transformed within 20 years. Driverless vehicles are being rolled out across the world. Driverless cars, lorries, buses and trains could well be a common sight in our towns and cities. In China recently the first drone air taxi was successfully tested. Is it a possibility one day we may see pilotless planes in our skies?

  Meanwhile in the skies above the Middle East, hunter killer drones similar to those portrayed in James Cameron’s Terminator series patrol the skies. Hunting targets which they destroy with ruthless efficiency. Skynet style satellites orbit our planet. Silently keeping watch on the population below.

  Civil unrest dominating our news networks. People crying out for change. Catalonia’s referendum to break away from Madrid. Britain’s exit from the European Union. The Yellow Vest movement sweeping across the continent campaigning for change. These are all signs, the people are rebelling.

  The media forever distracting the population with irrelevant news stories as well as bombarding us with advertisements. While social media sites like Facebook and Twitter have hundreds of millions addicted to their newsfeeds.

  Foreign powers manipulating political systems and interfering in government elections in a propaganda cold war.

  The Dystopian future of tomorrow is already happening today.

  Prologue

  The Sound Box – Central London – 11:56pm

  Sunday 14th October 2018

  The hooded figure glared across the cavernous space towards a group of young women dancing. They were unaware of the terror that was about to engulf the nightclub.

  Tammy Wilmot laughed as she danced to Wham’s classic hit song, Club Tropicana. Her friends had surprised her with a birthday celebration at one of London’s top nightclubs. The twenty six year old city stock analyst had just split from her boyfriend of two and a half years. Like all millennials Tammy was addicted to social media. As she danced she clutched her phone switching between Facebook and Twitter.

  The hooded figure made his way across the dancefloor skilfully avoiding revellers. His stare fixed on the woman with the mobile phone in her hand.

  Tammy continued to dance, she was free and happy. It had been a long time since she had experienced such jubilation. Taking a step backward she felt someone bump into her. Tammy spun around. ‘Watch it you wanker!’

  The man in the hoody stood looking at the floor.

  Tammy recognised the hoody the man was wearing. ‘For fuck sake Dex piss off, it’s over. Why can’t you take the hint?’

  ‘Tammy!’ The hooded man called out.

  ‘What!’ Tammy barked.

  ‘I want you.’

  ‘Fuck off Dex you’re high again. I’m done with that shit!’ Tammy turned and continued to dance.

  The hooded figured lunged at Tammy grabbing her long brown hair.

  ‘Fuck off you twat!’ She shouted at the top of her voice. She punched Dex in the side of the face, but it had no effect. Tammy screamed in pain sensing hair being torn from her scalp.

  A man who was watching marched over. ‘Let her go you dick!’ He threw a punch at the hooded figure.

  Dex put up his other hand and grabbed the man’s clenched fist before it made contact. He squeezed the man’s fist crushing the knuckles.

  The man screamed in agony dropping to his knees. ‘Sorry mate I didn’t mean to interfere!’

  Dex stared down at the man.

  The man glared back at him. ‘Fuck me what’s wrong with your eyes?’

  Dex violently twisted the man’s wrist which snapped in two.

  The man let out an agonising gasp, desperately trying to pull away. He looked on in horror as the hooded figure twisted again. The skin began to tear away from his wrist.

  Dex twisted again pulling the man’s hand off.

  Blood spurted from the stub where the clubber’s hand used to be. He scrambled backwards clutching what was left of his wrist.

  Dex tossed the severed limb into the crowd of revellers. A wom
an spotted the severed hand as it landed in front of her. Her scream alerted a nightclub bouncer who spotted a man in a hoody holding a woman by her hair.

  The bouncer marched over. ‘Let the girl go now mate!’ He shouted producing a baton from the inside of his jacket.

  Before the bouncer could wield his baton, the hooded figure stretched out his bloodied hand grabbing the bouncer by the throat.

  The bouncer immediately dropped his weapon trying desperately to release his assailant’s grip.

  Dex lifted the 17 stone man off the floor with little effort.

  The man fought against his attacker trying to release his grip.

  Dex looked up at the bouncer before violently twisting his neck to one side.

  Death was instant.

  The bouncer’s body was thrown across the dancefloor.

  Panicked screams drowned out the music as people scattered.

  ‘Please Dex let me go!’ Tammy pleaded. ‘We’ll go somewhere and talk. Just let me go, please.’

  Dex looked down at his ex-girlfriend. ‘I want you.’ He stated letting go of her hair.

  Tammy fell onto her back, but before she could move Dex pinned her to the floor. He stared down at her before lunging at her exposed neck.

  Tammy screamed as Dex sank his teeth into her throat. For several moments Tammy struggled against her former boyfriend, but it was futile.

  Tammy stopped struggling, her body went limp.

  Government Communications Headquarters – (GCHQ) – Cheltenham – 12:13am

  Monday 15th October 2018

  Darren Meek yawned stretching out his arms. ‘God I hate fucking nights in this place. They may as well put out a bed for us. I just want to sleep.’

  ‘You should stay off call of duty, how many hours did you put in today?’ Mark Smith asked.

  ‘I got up about ten this morning, didn’t come off it till an hour before I came here.’

  ‘Did you at least eat anything?’

  ‘I had a couple of tubes of Pringles.’

  ‘You do realise that’s not proper food, that’s just shit.’

  ‘I’m not eating like you. Chomping on lettuce leaves all day long. I’ll end up looking like a rabbit.’

  ‘Beats eating the shit you eat. You’ll be dead by the time you are fifty.’

  ‘So will you with all the pills you swallow down that gym.’

  ‘They’re vitamin supplements to keep me healthy.’

  ‘I think I’ll stick with Pringles, which reminds me.’ Meek picked up a small rucksack sat next to his chair. He pulled out a blue cardboard tube. ‘I love salt and vinegar.’ He grabbed a handful shoving them into his mouth.

  ‘I’ve got a ping here.’ Smith said glancing at the computer monitor in front of him.

  ‘Ignore it, it’s probably some wannabe hacker, they’ll soon get bored.’

  Smith stared at the screen. ‘This isn’t a newbie, this is something else.’ He tapped on the keyboard. ‘Someone has just hacked Facebook.’

  ‘No way not with all their security protocols. You have to be god to gain access to Facebook.’

  ‘Shit.’ Smith gasped. ‘The clever bastards.’

  Meek shoved another handful of Pringles into his mouth looking at Smith’s screen.

  ‘They’ve managed to hijack Facebook’s newsfeeds.’

  ‘Which newsfeed?’ Meek asked.

  ‘All of them.’

  Meek pushed himself towards his keyboard. ‘Impossible.’ He said with a mouth full of Pringles. ‘Facebook has too many security measures in place to stop anyone from doing that.’

  ‘I’m telling you the clever bastards have done it.’

  Meek tapped furiously on his keyboard. ‘It looks like someone is uploading a video.’

  ‘Hang on.’ Smith stated. ‘I’ve got another alert.’

  Meek looked in his direction.

  ‘Shit, Twitter is being hacked as well.’

  ‘Is it the same guy?’ Meek asked.

  Smith nodded after a few seconds. ‘Fuck!’ He exclaimed. ‘Now YouTube is being hit.’

  ‘It can’t all be the same hacker.’

  ‘It fucking is.’ Smith replied. Another message came up on his monitor. ‘Holy shit they’ve gone after Instagram.’

  Meek looked down at his keyboard tapping in a series of commands. ‘It looks like all social media platforms are being targeted.’

  ‘Can you play the video?’

  Meek clicked on his mouse and a window appeared on his screen. A video began to play.

  ‘Jesus this can’t be real can it?’ Smith questioned.

  Meek picked up a phone and hit the menu key. ‘Mike, it’s Darren down at systems analysis. You need to get down here. We have a major breach in progress.’

  Piccadilly Circus – Central Line – 12.43am

  The gang of six youths laughed loudly at the video they were watching on a mobile phone.

  ‘That’s fucking sick.’ One of the youths laughed.

  A man sat opposite looked across at the group.

  One of the youths glared back at him. ‘What’s your fucking problem dickhead?’

  The man stood and walked towards the other end of the train carriage.

  ‘This is going viral.’ One of the youths said. ‘Facebook reckons this video was taken at the Sound Box less than an hour ago.’

  The youths looked on as the video showed a man in a hoody, his face covered in blood. The body of a young woman lay nearby. A nightclub bouncer threw himself at the man, who stood firm. The bouncer was sent sprawling to the floor. Before he could scramble to his feet the hooded man was upon him. The man tore open the back of his shirt. He punched through the bouncer’s skin and wrenched out part of his spinal cord.

  Death was instant.

  ‘Fucking hell!’ One of the youths watching the video exclaimed.

  The train slowed and the doors opened. A woman entered the carriage.

  The gang remained seated, glued to the video they were watching.

  The woman stood in the middle of the carriage staring at the floor. Her matted dark blonde hair draped over her face.

  One of the youths glanced up at the woman before looking back at the video.

  ‘That guy is definitely high on something.’ One of the youths commented. ‘There’s no way an ordinary bloke could do that. Look at his eyes, they are completely white.’

  The woman took a step forward.

  Another youth looked at the woman. ‘You ok darling!’ He called out.

  The woman continued to stare at the floor. ‘I want you.’ She said.

  All the youths looked up.

  The lead youth stood up and approached the woman. ‘What was that darling?’

  ‘I want you.’ The woman repeated. ‘I want you all.’

  The lead youth looked back at his gang grinning. ‘Looks like our luck is in lads.’ He turned back towards the woman. ‘Well sweet thing it’s your lucky night. You are going to have us all. You can count on that.’ He reached forward and parted the woman’s long matted hair.

  The woman looked at the youth.

  ‘Fuck me love, what’s up with your eyes?’ The youth took a step back glaring at her.

  The woman lunged forward grabbing the youth. She sank her teeth into the side of his neck. Blood spurted in all directions.

  ‘Fuck, get her off me!’ The youth yelled.

  Another youth produced a knife. ‘Fucking slut, you don’t mess with us.’

  The woman flung the youth she had bitten against the wall of the carriage. She grabbed the arm of the other youth with the knife who charged towards her.

  The youth screamed in agony as his arm snapped below the elbow. The woman pulled him forward biting into the side of his face, tearing his cheek apart.

  The remaining youths looked on in horror as the woman ferociously tore out the youth’s tongue. The woman flung the young man’s body to one side and marched towards the group.

  The remaining gang members turned and
sprinted for the carriage door. One of the youths hammered against the button to open the door, but it remained shut.

  The man who moved to the end of the carriage glared at the carnage that ensued. He produced his phone and pressed the record icon on the screen.

  Chapter 1

  Day 1

  BBC News – BREAKING NEWS – 1:19am

  ‘Good morning, the time is approaching twenty past one. Reports are starting to filter out of central London regarding a number of incidents. London Transport police have just issued a brief statement on their Twitter page, advising people not to approach Piccadilly circus station. They have apparently closed the station. This is due to an incident that has happened in the last hour. This is a very busy station and is part of the circle line. We understand emergency services are currently at the scene. The other location police have mentioned is a nightclub in the Leicester Square region. Police are stating that an incident has occurred at The Sound Box, a popular nightspot in Leicester Square. Early witness reports say a number of people may have been injured. Emergency services are currently at the nightclub. Let me just repeat that statement. The Metropolitan Police have just issued a statement advising people to stay clear of Piccadilly Tube station and the Sound Box in Leicester Square. We don’t have all the details yet, but we will keep you updated as soon as we know more.’

  The Sound Box – Central London. – 1:29am

  Detective Sergeant Samantha Drake slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves. She zipped up the front of her white Jump suit, and checked her shoe protectors. Forensics had completely sealed off the dance floor to the nightclub. No one was allowed on or off unless they were in full forensic clothing. She had received a call from her commanding officer half an hour earlier. The Sound Box was popular with celebrities and the rich. Although it had only been open six months the owner, Maxwell Church a well-known publicity agent had pumped a lot of money into the venue.