Eventually we moved away from the
wall. It was exhausting just watching them. They never tired. We walked
through the grounds of the castle until it was dark. I had never been there
before and I was amazed by the place. The history alone was something to
behold.
We had a coffee from one of the
machines in the food hall and sat outside with them, discussing what was going
to happen now.
‘We learn to shoot and we help out in
here,’ said Sophie.
There didn’t seem to be anything else
for it, but the next thing she said surprised me.
‘Then, once we have the skills we
need,’ she said. ‘We go and find your family.’
Kim Taylor
16:58 hours, Sunday 17
th
May, Northern
Operating Base
It had been as much a surprise to me,
as anyone, when I saw the helicopters. There were four of them, flying in
formation, out to the east of the palace. I guessed that they might have been
the first of the relief troops, along with some fresh supplies. We had been
told that all those who were unable to fight would be evacuated as soon as
possible. What they hadn’t bargained for, was that we would be overrun so
soon.
They circled the palace three times.
Everyone was waving frantically at them. I’m sure they didn’t know what to do
and were waiting for orders. I held my breath. I was afraid that they were
going to turn around and leave us there. Why would they stay? We didn’t have
a chance. Even with our new tactics we couldn’t have held out for ever. We
would eventually have been swamped. Sooner or later the infected would have
made it onto the roof. Then we were all fucked.
But someone was looking out for us up
there, trapped on the roof of the palace. I was never a religious person, but
I prayed for salvation that day. I know people, who I met after the world went
to shit, who told me that they had given up on God. They had had been
God-fearing, church-going Christians before it kicked off, but had turned their
back on religion since. I was the opposite. I started believing.
The helicopters hovered over our
heads and the soldiers slid down ropes to join us. I tugged at Callum’s sleeve
and he saw them too. It had been anarchy in the palace. The living had been
fighting the dead in a contest to the finish. No prisoners, no surrender. As
it had been. As would always be from now on. And it was gruesome.
The rescue mission was in full swing
as people were helped on board the choppers. Each time one was full to
capacity it swung away from the roof and off into the distance, leaving the way
clear for another to take its place.
‘Where are they going?’ I asked one
of the soldiers.
‘We have an operational base about
twenty miles from here,’ he said. ‘They’ll be dropped off there and come back
for another group.’
I wasn’t sure that we would be able
to hold out that long. We were completely exhausted. Even Callum was running
on his last reserves of strength.
A surge of infected suddenly tried to
push their way through the piles of dead. It was if they realised that we were
escaping and they wanted to stop us at all costs. But our reinforcements came
to the rescue, shooting into the mass with a withering fire that few of them
survived. Bodies continued to pile up at the foot of the narrow stairs, making
it impossible for others to get past them. We were winning.
Before long all the helicopters had
picked up as many as they could and had flown off to the safety of their base.
I waited on that roof, with Ellie, for another hour, the longest one yet, until
we heard the familiar sound of the returning aircraft.
The infected made several more
attempts to get to us, but each time they were beaten back, unable to break
through the piles of bodies. Each time more of them were added to the heaps.
I was on the next chopper. Callum waved
me goodbye as it lifted onto the sky. He assured me he would be on the last
one out, along with the rest of his men.
As we rose higher and higher I could
see now the full horror of the battle for the palace. There were tens of
thousands of infected. They were everywhere. Outside, inside, in the gardens,
roaming through the lawns and ripping down tents as they searched for anyone
still alive.
Thankfully many of us had escaped.
It was a small victory, which felt a bit like a defeat. What was it that
Churchill had said after Dunkirk? Wars are not won by evacuations. Well this
one certainly wouldn’t be won by an evacuation. But the one lasting thought I
had, as we drifted away from the scene, was that I couldn’t imagine the Queen
ever returning to live there now.
Xiaofan Li
17:25 hours, Sunday 17
th
May, Central
London
It only took five minutes to get to
the first shop. It was one of those places which sold camping gear. We broke
in through a back door as the whole place was locked up. It didn’t take too
long.
We slipped through the store area and
past the offices. I stopped to have a look, in case there might have been
money lying around. I didn’t see any and I didn’t want to waste time trying to
get into a safe, so we left it and carried on to the shop floor.
It was a large area, full of displays
of tents, footwear and clothing. I selected a good sturdy pair of walking
boots and a couple of pairs of lightweight trousers, as well as two waterproof
jackets with decent pockets in them.
Claire checked the other displays.
There were cooking accessories, small stoves, Swiss army knives and the freeze
dried packets of food that can be boiled. I was sure they wouldn’t taste very
good, but they were light and we had already talked about having an emergency
escape bag, in case we ever had to leave the flat in a hurry.
We selected the largest rucksacks we
could find and stuffed the things we had taken into them. We weren’t hanging
around. I had the list of items we needed and where we could get them. I had
worked out a route and a plan in case we were separated. I didn’t want to be
out on the streets any longer than was absolutely necessary.
We did the same with the next two
stores. One was a convenience place I knew. We picked up what we needed from
it, including some bottled water which we decided we should keep and use if the
mains supply was cut.
The last place on the list was a
garden shop. It was quite a walk to it but I knew it would provide us with
everything we would need for our rooftop vegetable patch. I was right. Nobody
would think to loot a garden centre. It had been left completely untouched.
We scaled the outer fence and I
managed to find a partially open window. I managed to open it a bit further
and then squeezed through then opened the door for Claire.
In the main shop we found dozens of
packs of seeds for all sorts of fruit and vegetables. There was plenty of
fertiliser and bags of compost too, but I realised they would be too heavy for
us, what with all the other things we had. The flat was at least a mile away.
It was Claire who came up with the
solution, appearing around a corner pushing a wheelbarrow.
‘Load this up,’ she said. ‘We can
take everything we need in one trip.’
I threw three bags of compost onto it
and balanced the loaded rucksacks on top.
‘Can you manage that?’ I asked.
‘No problem,’ she replied. ‘There
are others around the corner.’
I grabbed another wheelbarrow and
loaded it with several more bags of compost, fertiliser and some garden tools I
thought we might need. Once we were ready I found a pair of bolt cutters in
the tool section and cut my way through the chain on the gate. Then we were
off, pushing our wheelbarrows down the street, heading back to the flat as fast
as we could go.
We heard the odd shot from time to
time. People were still alive in the city. They were fighting back, or at
least fighting for their lives. Sophie had suggested that we try to find other
survivors but I cautioned against it.
‘Those are hand guns,’ I said. ‘Who
owns hand guns these days?’
She looked blankly at me.
‘They’re illegal,’ I explained.
‘Only criminals own them. Do you want to let some gang members into your
home?’
‘I never thought,’ she said.
It was a good job we had met, I
thought, as we pushed our new belongings through the empty streets, she would
never have made it without me. That I had not been some lunatic with a
handgun, was just her good fortune.
‘For a reporter you don’t have a lot
of street sense,’ I said. ‘This city was dangerous enough when it was being
run by the authorities and there was a police force. Now there’s danger
everywhere. There are gangs who will rob us, rape us and kill us for the
slightest excuse. We stick together and don’t get involved with anyone else.
We can’t trust anyone.’
She was silent for the rest of the
journey. I think she thought I was scolding her. Well, I was. There was no
room for complacency. One wrong move would mean certain death for both of us
and if it meant I had hurt her feelings then too bad. I wanted to live.
Near the flat we heard another two
gunshots. They were really close and we ducked down an alley and waited to see
what was happening. We must have been there for half an hour, lingering. It
was nerve shredding. We were so close to the building but something was
telling me that it was too dangerous to move.
My instincts were right. As we hid
in the alley, listening for any movement, we suddenly heard voices on the
street. I caught my breath as I saw two men. They were two of the ones from
the day before – the young black man and the one who was the leader of the
group. Now they were alone.
The leader was carrying what looked
like a shotgun, while the black guy had a handgun and an axe. They were alert,
ready. The shots had probably been fired by them. They would know that the
infected would have heard them and would be homing in on the area, but they
didn’t seem too bothered. It was as if they were looking for something.
They passed by eventually, heading in
the opposite direction and we took our chance.
‘Quietly,’ I said. ‘Let’s get to the
back door and unload all this stuff.’
We moved as fast as we could, dodging
around the corner, through the car park and into the rear yard. When we
reached the building I was relieved to see that the piece of wood was still in
the door frame, preventing it from locking.
I pushed the door open and we wheeled
the barrows inside and parked them in the communal hallway. We slumped onto the
floor, worn out from our exertions and the stress of the situation.
After a minute or so I had caught my
breath.
‘Let’s get this stuff upstairs and
get a coffee,’ I suggested.
I suddenly realised what I had said.
Usually I would have suggested alcohol, but that was the furthest thing from my
mind at the moment. I can only guess that the overwhelming desire to survive
was changing me.
We carried the first load up to the
flat and dropped it off in the kitchen. We then went back twice more and
before long the place was full of bags and tools. There was only one bag of
compost left. I was about to go and get it when Claire said she would go, in
return for me making the coffee.
I took the handgun out of my belt and
put it behind some tins of food in one of the cupboards. This was where we had
agreed it should be kept while we were in the flat. I set about boiling the
kettle and getting the mugs ready as she went off down the stairs, then I began
to take all the gardening things out onto the roof. I stood for a moment,
breathing in the evening air. It made me feel so safe, being up there, away
from the threats on the streets below us.
There was a knock at the door and I
went back through. The door had closed behind Claire when she had gone out and
locked itself. I undid it and was opening it when it was suddenly pushed
roughly from the other side and Claire stumbled through, falling onto the
floor.
Before I could react they were
through. Two men, the ones from the street, the black guy and the leader. My
heart sank as the smiling older man approached me and punched me on the side of
the head.
I fell onto the floor. My gun, I
thought. But there was no way I would be able to get to it in time.
The leader followed up his punch with
a savage kick to my ribs, which knocked the wind out of me and left me gasping
for air. I could see Claire. She was on the floor too, a large bruise forming
under one eye.
‘Put them in the living room,’ the
leader said.
We were forced to our feet and shoved
towards the living room. We fell onto the sofa and held one another. Claire
was sobbing. I was frightened too, I have to say. This was a dangerous
situation. Both men were obviously unstable and were liable to do anything at
any moment. I tried to reason with them.
‘You can take whatever you want,’ I
said. ‘We have plenty of food to go around and we’ll share it with you.’