by A L Carter
"I demand to speak to whoever is in charge," he was crying now his panic rising.
"At your service Mr Morden how can I be of assistance?" Marcus asked with a shark-like grin.
"I am on the list, I must be, I mean I know the queen." he blustered.
Marcus typed in some details into his tablet and within seconds an answer came back.
"Sorry sir you don't appear to be on the list," he informed but he was not sorry. "He's for termination." motioning to the guards.
The two guards dragged him away screaming and moments later when out of sight two shots were heard. The guards quickly returned their earlier position and nobody seemed bothered, just pleased that the queue started moving again.
Day one infection of Micro Drone Global headquarters
This was an exciting day for Francis Demure as he sat in the main control room overseeing events unfold. It had taken weeks to set up; hundreds of thousands of crates had been shipped worldwide. Each crate contained three hundred shoebox size metal boxes, which were distributed around every major city around the globe and even small but populated islands were not forgotten. These black boxes were fixed to lampposts, road signs and anywhere the general election population would be. Each box carried a government-warning sticker so they were less likely to be interfered with. Anyway, people were unlikely to even notice. These boxes each contained a thousand mosquito sized drones that even looked like the small insects. Each carried enough of the virus to infect one person. Chances are that the victims would hardly notice and carry about their daily lives. The drone now spent would power down. Once activated the drones were self-automated and programmed to find a human target. The only downside was the power limitations, which were a maximum of two hours, but this should be more than enough. He eagerly watched the countdown now at 60 seconds. If all went well he would get his pass to safety. Did he feel guilty about his role in the destruction of most of the human race? The numbers were halfway down by now. No, he did not feel guilty; man was destroying the planet anyway. The land would be pure again and ready for repopulation. 10 seconds only now, he would certainly be doing some repopulating that is for sure. The timer flashed zero on screen and a message showed activation and deployment successfully completed. Francis grinned rather pleased with himself, absent-mindedly scratching his neck at a sudden irritation. After shutting down the terminal he grabbed his coat and headed towards the building's exit. It would take him at least six hours to reach the designated pickup point that would take him to safety. As he left the building he noticed that a large amount of the staff was leaving also, maybe more than he had anticipated had been offered the same deal as him. Some of his initial smugness slipped as he thought that he had higher importance than them. What he did not notice was that he was not the only one with an irritation to scratch.
The prime minister, the evening of day 1 of infection
The British PM sat on the private and secret underground train on her way to the bunker where she would finally be safe. She was annoyed though that she had to wait this long when others had already arrived at New Eden before the virus was deployed. Some of the most select had retreated to safety weeks ago without having to take any risk and here she had to do a public announcement on the day of the infection. Even she was assured that she would be at no risk from the virus and that stringent security measures were in place for her utmost safety. It was a relief when she left her deputy in charge to carry on in her absence. Of course, the imbecile believed what he was told and that everything was under control and that she would return shortly. The idea was to cover up the severity of the pandemic so by the time the military was brought in it would be too late. To ensure this every military base was sent supply crates with a thousand tiny drones that would activate remotely. So hours later they would literally turn on each other and then on the general public. She smiled to herself, it was pure genius and they did not stand a chance. Oh, some would hide out and some would try to fight but it would all be for nothing in the end. She would be living in pure luxury until such time until the planet had been removed of the filth and they could start over again as rulers of the new earth.
Clarke and family day 2 of infection
Clarke had originally thought that he and his family would be transported to safety the day before infection day but that day came and went. He had received an email saying the there was a slight delay but not to worry that they would be picked up on day two of infection. It was now the early evening of day two with no transport or explanation. His wife was fuming at him saying that he didn't have to put up with this and that he should ring up whoever was in charge and give them a piece of his mind. Unwilling to experience her wrath he just agreed and retired to his office. Now he sat there in front of his computer screen checking his emails and hoping that a new encrypted email would appear. But of course it didn't and his heart sank. He looked at the telephone on his desk but new it was useless. Who would listen to him anyway beginning to realize how insignificant he really was and anyway by now there might not be anyone left to answer the call? Being infected, either evacuated or staying at home like him. He had expressly forbidden anyone of his family to leave the house warning them of the danger of doing so, as well as keeping all the doors and windows secure and not to let anybody in. He was beginning to resign himself to the fact that nobody was coming to whisk them away to safety and that he had just been used all along. But it wasn't like he could have just refused the job given to him. If he had then he and his family would have most likely 'Disappeared'. So what were their chances of surviving the infection on their own he wondered? Not great he thought with despair. Admittedly, the house was pretty secure being surrounded by a high-security fence and gates. As well as a well-stocked larder full of non-perishable food supplies and bottled water. Maybe deep down he had expected this because there was enough to last over six months maybe longer if he rationed supplies. A mischievous voice sounded in his mind you could survive well over a year if you didn't have to feed the kids or even the wife. He tried to brush away the thought but it seemed already have a hold on him. Then he began to think of guns he had hidden away but his thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.
His wife entered carrying an official looking letter and a look of optimism, "This was just posted through the door but I didn't see or hear anybody but I bet its word of transport."
"Oh good I guess it must be," he felt his hope returning and gave a sigh of relief holding the letter in front of him.
"Well go on open it then," she said eagerly.
Eventually, he broke the trance that he appeared to be in and opened the letter, not noticing the tiny flying drone, which flew out with it. The small note that was inside read;
GOODBYE MR. CLARKE.
He fought the inclination to panic, to breakdown and start blubbering like a child and feigned a relieved expression instead.
"Everything is going to be fine just a few hours to wait and transport will be here for us," he even faked a rather convincing smile along with the lie.
"Oh great news I'll go and let the kids know," she said excitedly and retreated back through the door shutting it behind her.
He sat there glad that she had left the room and now he allowed himself to accept the enormity of what the note meant. Obviously, that was it they had washed their hands of him and no help was coming. What he really could not understand was why they had gone to the bother of delivering the note? Were they really that cold and callous? Well of course, they were and he suddenly realized that was the only way to survive in this world. He sat back in his chair and relaxed resignedly scratching at a sudden irritation on his head. That was it then in two hours he would go downstairs and kill his wife and kids...
Martha had been patient but it was well over two hours now and still no transport. Well that was it she was fuming now and that was it if he was too weak she herself would give his bosses a piece of her mind. She left the kids squabbling downstairs and headed straight upsta
irs. This time she burst in without knocking, marched over to the back of his chair, and spun it around in temper.
"I've had en..." but she did not finish what she was saying before the words became stuck in her throat.
Her husband looked back at her with dead grey eyes and a face the colour of death. She froze stock still in fear, he was one of them. How they had not left the house and all the windows were shut? He rose from the chair to meet her, a frenzied look of hunger on his face. She knew she had to move now and fast but she felt like her feet were in concrete. Opening her mouth to scream but nothing came out. There was nothing that she could do but accept her husband's cold embrace and his teeth as they bit into her neck. It was now that she managed to scream loud and hard. Blood gushed from her neck as the carotid artery was severed and her life quickly faded from and she collapsed to the floor. Her husband followed her down and continued his feast but he was soon disturbed as two more entered the room.
The two children entered the room, Mary twelve and Andrew nine. They both stood there shocked as they witnessed their father eating their mother, letting out a loud scream.
"Daddy please no! You’re hurting mummy," she begged tears streaming.
The boy just screamed hysterically unable to speak unable to comprehend the scene before him. Clarke rose from the floor forgetting his meal and went over to eat his children.
Chapter 5
Chief Inspector Jenkins
Chief Inspector Roger Jenkins awoke as usual just before the alarm went off at 0600 hours and turned it off as not to disturb Ann, and he really did not want that as she was a battleaxe in the morning. His clothes were all laid out ready, which he took to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, he was shit, showered and shaved. He was always this was just like the old military days ready for the day. At forty-nine years old he was now a Chief Inspector in the police force since he left the army when he was twenty-three. That meant that he could retire if he chose when he turned fifty. Well, he was not sure about that yet, though he could certainly afford it, having paid off his mortgage and with savings in the bank. In addition, he would have a reasonable police pension. Ann would also be pleased as they could spend more time at the caravan in Norfolk near where her sister lived. Nevertheless, truth be told he got bored after a few days especially after hearing to two of them moaning all day. He never got bored with his police work though, always something interesting happening. Okay, Coalville was not the crime capital of England but it kept him entertained, burglary, petty disputes, shoplifters, drunken fights and even the odd murder. It gave his life structure like his old army days. Alternatively, maybe it was just the uniform. After going downstairs quietly, he went in the kitchen shutting the door behind him and turned on the TV to the BBC news he prepared breakfast of muesli, toast and a boiled egg his usual fair. Poured himself an earl grey from the pot he had prepared and sat at the breakfast bar. It was only then he started to take in the news. Yesterday he had heard about the troubles in Europe, America and perhaps other places around the world, riots, violence and a possible viral epidemic. Then it happened in London and at a few of the shipping ports. However, the prime minister had assured the public that these were isolated incidents and for the public not be concerned. Well, that was yesterday now there had been multiple reports across the UK, almost every city it seemed. This time it was the deputy prime minister who looked flustered and certainly not as composed as the prime minister the day before. He was bordered by police in front of number ten, surrounded by press then a line of police and then a hefty crowd of civilians. Journalists and civilians were shouting questions.
"Where's the PM?" this came from a journalist.
"ARE WE SAFE?" came chants from the crowds.
The deputy held up his hand for silence, which people reluctantly obeyed with a few moans and jeers.
"The PM is in important meetings at the moment but assures me everything will be in order soon, and the military has been brought in along with armed police to protect civilians," he informed.
"But the public was told that everything was already under control and that was yesterday?" from a journalist.
"The level of the infection could not have been foreseen at that point," he replied sweat dripping down his forehead.
Jeers came from the crowd who were beginning to become hostile.
"Is the virus spreading through Europe and other countries, is it life threatening is it, in fact, a pandemic?" several questions from another journalist.
The deputy fumbled for a moment using his sleeve to mop his brow. "As I have just stated the matter is under control and there is no need to panic, people are encouraged to remain in their homes."
The crowd was now becoming an angry mob shouting and pushing against the line of police.
"That doesn't answer my question about the virus and is it a pandemic?" the journalist pushed for an answer.
"I am sorry but I am unable to answer any more questions at this time." he blustered.
Then he was escorted back into number ten by his aids and police and the report seemed to cut prematurely. Then abruptly back to the studio where they attempted to gloss over the last report and saying that they were experiencing technical difficulties. Halfway through his breakfast he now found he had no appetite and pushed the remainder away. The news had made him feel a little bit sick. But he pulled himself together, disposing of the unfinished meal and cleared up after himself. More than a little worried he considered waking his wife, but no maybe that was going a little far. After all, they did say that they would have things under control soon. Still unconvinced with their assurances he wrote his wife a letter;
Ann, please check news and it is probably best if you stay in today, see you later Roger x.
Short and to the point he thought and with that, he picked up his keys and left for work.
Outside number ten Downing Street police constable Brent held the line. They had not anticipated it getting this out of hand and been instructed not to wear full riot gear. He felt this was more to do with public relations, well that was just bollocks. Now things were escalating rapidly and they were insufficiently prepared. He felt a tug on his right life a dean weight, which was pulling him down. Turning to look he then realized Dawkins had collapsed and appeared unconscious. The crowd pushed on still distracting him and there were sudden cries from the crowd but he could not see what was going on. Suddenly the weight on his right side appeared to have gone; turning to look again PC Dawkins appeared to have recovered and was getting back to his feet. He faced the front again, there were screams now coming from the crowd. People appeared to be biting each other. He had heard rumours of this around the force and that it was to do with the virus going around. Gossip was soon stifled and the staff was reprimanded so information had been limited. Which again was just bollocks, how were we supposed to deal this thing if we had no information? As usual, the people on the front line were the last to know. The line suddenly broke on his left and there was a scream, which appeared to come from a colleague, and at the same time, his left hand was free as well so he turned to see. Dawkins was hunched over another constable, what the fuck was he doing? He stepped around so he could see clearly. That could not be the constable on was holding onto his throat in an attempt to stop the torrent of blood escaping from his throat. The man's eyes showed terror and he looked towards him pleadingly, trying to talk but just wet gurgling noises coming out. Dawkins also looked at him while chewing on a large chunk of flesh. Eyes grey and misted over and blood covering his face and chest. Clarke froze in place as Dawkins rose to his feet intent on a fresh meal. He forced himself to move but nothing happened, he had never been prepared for this. His life seemed to flash before his eyes like the old cliché, which was not much as he was only twenty-one. He was halfway through his childhood when the thing was upon him tearing into his stomach cavity and eating him. Screaming came from someone nearby but realized that it was probably himself as the lifeblood ran away from him. He thought of
his loving and proud mum and dad and the beautiful new girlfriend he had been seeing. Then darkness overtook him along with death's cold but welcome embrace.
Chief Inspector Jenkins arrived at Coalville police station early before the rest of the day shift arrived. He spoke with the duty sergeant Jones and asked if he had heard the news.
"Yes I have a strange business and worrying too sir," he replied.
"Anything strange happen here last night?" Jenkins continued.
"As it happens yes we got two drunks in last night," said Jones.
"Nothing unusual about that is there?" He said looking puzzled.
"Other than the fact they both had been bitten that is," he explained.
Jenkins raised his eyebrows, "Then how come they are here and not A and E?"
"Well we had a complaint about a disturbance outside a pub in the town both of them said somebody else bit them but because they were so drunk the two officers didn't believe them and thought that they had bitten each other. They did request an ambulance for assistance but were told that all ambulances were overwhelmed with call outs. So they gave first aid and brought them back here," he said.
Jenkins looked around puzzled," Jones whys the place so dead?"
"Yes the last few hours we've had lots of calls about crazy people attacking innocent people and consequently every officer is out on multiple calls," the sergeant his voice rising in concern suddenly making connections he should have made earlier.
"Jones, can you get them on the radio?" Jenkins asked.
Jones tried each unit in turn and got nothing so he repeated the exercise all to no avail.
"Show me to those to drunks," Jenkins said.
There was a limited amount of cells at the small station but only two were occupied at the time, the lead Jenkins too the two occupied cells. Both doors were solid steel with a slide cover over the small viewing window. Jenkins pulled back the cover a man stood facing the far wall seeming not to move.
