Day Thirty-Two - The Battle for Winchester (Season 5: The Rain)
Author: R R Haywood
Date: 2024-06-21 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Horror; Zombie Apocalypse
Description: THE ICONIC BRITISH SERIES THAT HAS REDEFINED A GENRE AND BECOME FAR MORE THAN A ZOMBIE STORY. This is a tale of loyalty, friendship, and the sacrifices we make for love. The Undead is a gripping, and often laugh-out-loud exploration of how far we’ll go to protect those we care about.⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “One of the most original voices of our time.” - Richard Moriarty, The Sun. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “RR Haywood delivers in style.” - Chris Riches, The Express. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “Exceptional” - The London Economic. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "Gripping authenticity from ex-cop Haywood” John Ward, Deputy Editor, Daily Star Sunday ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ “It can only be a matter

THE UNDEAD THIRTY-TWO

RR HAYWOOD

1899 INC LTD

Copyright © 2024 by RR Haywood

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

CONTENTS

Untitled

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Also by RR Haywood

SEASON FIVE: THE RAIN

THE BATTLE FOR WINCHESTER

1

Thursday, 4th August

Day Twenty-One

‘Get low,’ Craig orders.

He eases the power on the throttle forming part of the tiller at the rear of the RIB. A quick glance back along the River Itchen, but of Elaine and her horde, there are no signs.

He looks forward. Seeing the arches of the bridge ahead. A building constructed over the river. It used to be another mill, but at some point, it was turned into boring, ugly flats.

They hunker low and glide under the first arch. The underside of the bridge just inches above them, but Craig had checked the height of the waters before they made the final plans, and he knew they could get the RIB through comfortably.

‘Told you,’ he whispers into the dark. ‘Hardly any rain, so the levels are low.’

He guides them over to the mooring point, and they delve into the dark shadows beneath a thicket of trees to recover their wits from the intense firefight through Winchester city to lure Elaine and her horde into the traps they set.

‘That was too close,’ Bev whispers. The others nod. They felt it too. ‘What did she have? A couple of thousand?’

‘I’d say about that,’ Dr Jevram Patel says.

Bev blows air through her cheeks and shakes her head. ‘Too close,’ she says again. They all know why she’s repeating it, and they all look to Samir. His head low. His focus occupied with images within his mind. Images from a place other than this. A strange prison. But not a prison. An army base filled with soldiers. Angry soldiers. The dark-haired man with the raging eyes and his friends are locked in rooms. They’re being hurt. Beaten. But there’s no reason for it beyond cruelty for the sake of cruelty.

‘Samy?’ Mike whispers, reaching out to gently touch the boy’s chin.

‘Yes?’ Samir asks, looking at him as though he can see Mike through his blind eyes, and once again, the group frowns and glances at Thor. The big pigeon on Samir’s shoulder with pink, shimmering plumage and large, intelligent eyes that stare back at them.

Debora told them when they all rushed back after hearing the gunshot when Todd attacked Debs in the shower. The gunshot fired when Todd attacked Debora that went through the bathroom door and killed the mother pigeon and the other chick.

‘He said he can see,’ she told them once Todd had been tied up and shoved in a cupboard with a gag over his mouth.

Jevram took the lead then.

‘You can see?’ he asked Samir.

‘Not his eyes. Thor. The bird,’ Debora said.

None of them believed it because such a thing was simply not possible.

And yet.

And yet.

‘And yet,’ Jevram said when Samir once again said how many fingers he was holding up. They’d done that a few times, and by then Jevram was holding his hand behind his own back to obstruct Samir from seeing it. But the bird was held by Olivia, and the bird could see Jevram’s hand, and time again, Samir correctly said how many fingers were being held up. They tested it with other objects too.

They even took Thor into another room and closed the door. Thor didn’t like that. He flapped and squawked, and tried to fight free from Olivia, and get back to Samir. But not before Samir saw socks being held by Jevram.

‘Socks,’ he told them when they came back with Thor cooing in his hands as though most pissed off at being taken away.

They all thought that was very cool.

But later that night, Samir told them to turn all the lights off until the room was in complete darkness. Then he smiled and pointed to each of them in turn, because, through Thor, he could see beyond the spectrum of light seen by humans.

‘He can see UV,’ Jevram said.

‘Told ya,’ Kev said. ‘Pigeons can see loads more than us.’

‘That’ll come in handy if we’re bugging out at night,’ Bev said.

And now they are.

‘Can you see anything around us?’ Mike asks as Samir turns a circle with the bird staring out.

‘There’s nothing here,’ Samir whispers.

‘Good. Right. We’re getting back on that boat and following the river to Twyford or-,’ Bev starts to say.

‘No,’ Samir says.

‘We are leaving!’

‘No,’ Samir says again.

‘Enough, Samy. We almost died,’ Bev says. ‘If Elaine had fifty more, we’d have lost. That’s how close that was. And she will come back. She bloody said that. We are done here. No arguments. My job is to protect you. All of you.’

‘It is not time,’ Samir says as the bird flutters from his hands to land on his shoulder as though silently commanded.

‘Samy!’ Bev snaps in a furious whisper. ‘I said enough!’

‘It is not time,’ Samir whispers gently, with no hint of worry or frustration, and he steps closer to bring his hands up to cup Bev’s face. Smudges of dirt on her cheeks. Soot and grime. Her wiry hair pulled back, with a few strands free. Her lined and weathered face staring at him with the frustration showing close to anger.

‘It won’t work this time. We are bugging out,’ she tells him firmly.

‘It is not time.’

‘I said no!’

‘They are not ready.’

‘Who?’ Bev demands, showing confusion as Samir frowns, seeing the beatings in his mind in the strange army prison. ‘Samy? Who?’

‘If we leave, she will follow us,’ Samir whispers. His head cocked over. His mind clearly not entirely here within this moment.

‘Let her! She’ll never find us.’

Samir shakes his head. ‘She’ll take everything in her path and become too powerful. We have to wait for the others to cull their numbers.’

‘Who?’ Bev asks again as they all stare imploringly at the blind child that makes no sense, and Samir slowly turns his head to look back at her.

‘We must stay here.’

‘We will die, Samy!’

‘Everything will die if we leave,’ Samir whispers as the tears prick Sophie’s eyes, and Olivia blinks at the sheer intensity pouring from the gentle, whispering child. ‘We are so few. We must all play our part. Our part is here. We must wait.’

Bev blinks angrily. Furious at herself for the tears breaking free. Not knowing why she is feeling the surge of emotions inside. But even Jevram feels it. A man of science and study. Craig too. A gifted engineer of specialist physics. Even Mike. A battle-hardened former elite soldier.

But to the last, despite urging themselves and each other, they simply cannot refuse the wishes of the child.

‘Okay,’ Bev says with a heavy sigh, and she brings her forehead in to touch his. ‘I don’t know why, but okay.’

‘We must,’ Samir whispers and kisses her forehead. ‘When she comes again, we will not run.’

The intensity becomes too much. The air too charged. It makes Sophie blink and exhale. ‘Actually, though, she probably won’t. I mean, honestly, we must have killed them all by now.’

Snorts of dry laughter. Grim smiles, but it breaks the tension, and they bug out with Samir pointing the way to go. Leading them into the grounds of the university, with Bev and Mike thinking to take refuge in one of the ancient houses. Somewhere discreet with solid walls. Somewhere defensible with multiple exit points.

Except Samir leads them past those houses. Finding the way ahead through the eyes of Thor while his face twitches at the images in his mind of the dark-haired man being beaten in a chair. Samir doesn’t know why or even who they are, nor does he truly know the way forward either. Only that the lights around him and the colours seem to flow and merge as he learns to see the new spectrums of shades and hues.

They seem to lead him on through the school grounds and on to skirt around the vast gardens surrounding the cathedral. The army museums but a stone throw away. Another place they fought in against Elaine.

‘We’re going back into the city centre,’ Mike whispers. ‘Lad, are you sure about this?’

Samir nods once and keeps going until they spill out on Trafalgar Street in front of the Crown Court building.

He leads them into the lower plaza. Grey stone blocks on the ground with an emblem matching the famous, old Round Table in the Great Hall.

A walkway to the southern end with a ramp leading to the middle plaza.

Steps at the other end.

A wall between the two levels.

They take the ramp on the southern edge of the lower plaza and go up to cross over the middle plaza.

Another open square of grey stone flooring with another circular monument in the middle.

The ramp to one end, and steps at the other, giving access to the upper plaza, which, in turn, feeds into the few old passages of the ancient castle of William the Conqueror. All of them weathered and broken. A few low walls of the old castle all that remain.

They go up the four long flights of steps to the upper terrace. Another wide square of grey stone with buildings on three sides.

The buildings on the right and left built in modern times but made to look ancient and gothic. And those two buildings flank the long access path of Castle Avenue, which feeds out onto the top of the High Street and the big junction.

Another building at the end faces out onto the terrace, and from the constructions of the tiered plazas and the way the buildings are situated, and the terrace that forms Castle Avenue, it’s as though all of those things were built to flow into that building sitting squat at the end.

An ancient building that Samir stops and points at. ‘In there,’ he whispers.

‘Fuck me,’ Bev says, looking along Castle Avenue to the High Street, knowing the Police HQ is right there. ‘We literally couldn’t be anywhere more central!’

‘What is this place?’ Debora asks, staring at the old building her son is pointing at.

‘The Great Hall,’ Kev says. ‘William the Conqueror built it.’

‘Well. William built the castle, of which the remains are right there,’ Craig says, pointing to the low, broken walls, ‘but The Great Hall was added later in like the twelfth century, I think. More to the point. How do we even get inside? Those doors are thick as anything.’

‘Ooh, I know!’ Sophie says, glad to know something that helps the group. ‘I worked here doing tickets one year. If we go in that door over there, we can go through the internal entry where the creepy, old staircase is. FYI, though. If we’re staying here, I am not going for a piddle on my own. Literally so haunted.’

‘It’s the zombie apocalypse,’ Mike points out. ‘And you’re worried about ghosts?’

‘Er. So. I don’t think they’re actually zombies,’ Jevram says, ‘seeing as they’re not dead.’

‘What do you wanna call them then? Living challenged?’ Mike asks.

‘No! That’s stupid. I mean. I think it’s stupid? But if that’s what you want to go with.’

‘No. They’re zombies,’ Mike says.

‘Not zombies,’ Jevram says.

‘Zombies,’ Mike says.

‘Call them whatever you want, but we’re not staying here,’ Bev says as they all look at her. ‘Don’t even look at me! I’ve relented on staying in Winchester, but no way are we staying in the least defensible place here. We might as well be in tents. And it’s slap bang in the middle of the city. I mean it. No!’

Thursday, 18th August

Day Thirty-Five

Fourteen days later.

‘Any sign of the zombies?’ Mike calls.

‘Not zombies,’ Jevram says mildly, without looking up from his desk.

‘No,’ Sophie says, staring down through the hole in the roof to Mike at the bottom of the scaffolding tower, ‘but it’s still raining.’

‘When isn’t it bloody raining?’ Bev mutters, walking past with a mug of hot tea that she puts down on Jevram’s desk.

‘Ta,’ the doctor says, sitting back from writing notes. The countertop covered in books. Medical texts and science journals. ‘Wow. Still gets me,’ he says as he blinks at it.

‘What?’ Bev asks and catches his line of sight. ‘What, that? Yeah, me too.’

‘And me,’ Mike admits from the base of the scaffolding.

‘What does?’ Sophie asks from on top of the roof.

‘The table,’ Mike says, nodding to the end of The Great Hall. That being the same Great Hall that Bev said they were definitely not staying in.

Which, of course, they then stayed in.

‘Urgh, what, that old thing?’ Olivia asks, peering down through the hole in the roof with a grin at all the older people inside getting triggered.

‘That’s the round table!’ Craig says, rushing over to get next to Mike, so he can peer up at Sophie and Olivia.

‘Yeah, but it’s not very nice, though,’ Sophie says.

‘The colours are a bit shit,’ Olivia adds.

‘You cheeky sods,’ Craig says, joining Mike and Kev. ‘That table was built in the thirteenth century. Okay. Wow. You’re both mimicking me. I can literally see.’

‘And I am,’ Samir says, with his little head appearing next to them as he peers down with Thor on his shoulder. ‘The Round Table was built between 1250 and 1280 and repainted by King Henry VIII in 2023, after he won Celebrity Big Jungle, I’m a twat.’

‘Don’t say twat,’ Debora says mildly, waggling her finger as she walks past the scaffolding tower while her son carries on with his silly impression of Craig.

‘You can’t even be angry at him,’ Olivia tells Craig with a grin. ‘You’re banging his mum.’

‘Liv!’ Bev says as the others groan.

‘We are not banging!’ Craig says with an outraged tone.

‘Banging what?’ Samir asks.

‘Right, stop it!’ Bev says as Mike and Sophie crack up while Debora tries to look innocent and all while Craig blusters and flushes.

‘Oh, must have been the ghosts banging the table in the museum meeting room then,’ Olivia says as though that explains it.

‘That wasn’t us!’ Craig says as Bev thinks to tell them all off but stops too abruptly with a blush creeping into her own cheeks.

‘Beverly Knight!’ Sophie says.

‘Ha! It was Mike and Bev!’ Olivia says with a delighted laugh. ‘Best. Day. Ever!’

‘Right. Good,’ Craig says stiffly. ‘Debora and I are taking things slowly.’

‘Very slowly,’ Debora says, giving him a look. ‘Very, very slowly.’

‘But it is still raining, though,’ Sophie says again. ‘And there’s definitely no sign of the zombies.’

‘Still not zombies,’ Jevram says.

‘Okay. Come down then,’ Bev calls as Samir climbs deftly from the hole to the top level of the scaffolding tower, then down the side.

‘I can’t watch him do that,’ Kev says, turning away with a wince.

‘Neither can he,’ Mike quips as Samir snorts a laugh.

‘Don’t make a blind joke,’ Bev says, laughing as she swipes his shoulder.

‘Catch me!’ Samir says, launching himself for Mike to catch him as the bird gives flight and circles in the air over their heads. Giving Samir a view of them all within The Great Hall.

One hundred and ten feet long. Fifty-five feet wide. Thick stone walls and high, lead lined, strong windows. A high, vaulted roof supported by thick stone columns fixed into the flagstone floor.

They found the scaffolding tower already erected on the inside to give access for repairs to the roof; other than that, there were only a few wooden benches against the end wall and the counter used to take the entry fees. Now used by Jevram as an ad hoc desk.

Now one end is filled with beddings on the floor in small sections, separated by benches draped with blankets for privacy. Gas stoves for cooking. Low light battery lamps. Clothes. Kit. Rations. Tinned food. Crates of water bottles. Weapons stacked nearby. Axes. Short staff pikes. Swords. Spears. Clubs and more maces. Things taken from the city museums and given fresh blades or sharp points. Police polycarb riot shields and assault rifles stacked with them. A strange blend of medieval and modern-day weaponry.

Books stacked up. Battery operated DVD players and all the things used by people. It looks homely and clean, and strangely more natural now. Like this is how it should have been used. For living and life, and not a sterile place for visitors to spend twenty minutes traipsing through to gawp at the magnificent table.

The Round Table held within a custom-built brace on the wall. Painted in greens and creams like an oversized dartboard. The table that was built in the twelfth century and repainted in the 1520s by Henry VIII. Over five metres in diameter and weighing twelve hundred kilos.

It dominates one end of the room, and even now, after fourteen days of living within The Great Hall, they all still find themselves staring at it.

‘It’s a link to what was,’ Craig said on their first day in whispered awe. ‘It’s over eight hundred years old. It was bloody old by the time Henry VIII repainted it, but think about it, every king and queen, and prime minister in this country for the last eight hundred years has looked at and probably touched that table. I mean. That table and this hall have survived for so long. Civil wars. Diseases. World wars. Fires. And now this, with what we are going through. I don’t know. It kinda gives it some perspective.’

‘Life is constantly evolving,’ Jevram added into the silence that followed, and he imagined the future apex species of infected people or whatever they were taking control and staring at that table that to them would be like humans staring at neanderthal stone tools. Elaine’s evolution was startlingly rapid, from a low-intelligence, uneducated, borderline obese woman to someone now so remarkably different, was worrying. What would she be like in another six months? In a year? Would all the infected be like that?

Mike shrugged. It was interesting enough, but his focus, and Bev’s too, was survival, and so they focussed on three exits.

One was internal. The one Sophie called the creepy as shit staircase that led to another museum and gift shop in the building butting up to the end. Within which they also had the toilets.

Two other entry points.

Both with thick, solid wooden doors.

One led out to the cultivated rear gardens and a low wall, over which were the grounds of the military museums they already knew so well.

The other main entrance through the double wooden doors led out onto the terrace, which fed into Castle Avenue and down into the tiered plazas, and which also faced across to the junction and the council buildings, and the police HQ.

They bedded in with rations and the little ammunition they had left. They looted more clothes, and they went up the scaffolding tower to unpeel the waterproof membrane covering the repairs, and they went out onto the wide, flat walkway between the apexed tiled roof and the safety wall overlooking the plaza to keep watch.

The same walkway once used by guards and archers to protect the royalty and dignitaries within.

But nothing happened.

Elaine wasn’t seen.

They kept watch and settled into life within The Great Hall. Kev secured locking bars against the external doors in the museum. Mike went out to lay traps. Olivia drilled relentlessly with the weapons. Debora recovered from Todd’s attack and smiled at her son racing through the Great Hall. Vaulting benches and leaping up steps, with Thor flying over him. He ran through the museum and in the gardens. They ate food and told stories at night, and they watched Thor growing bigger by the day.

‘Can you take me up to the roof, please?’ Samir asked Olivia late evening on the twenty-ninth day. The heat had been unbearable for the last few days. They sweated constantly and did nothing in the heavy, listless air. Apart from Olivia, who swung heavy maces and squatted heavy benches until her skin glistened and her cheeks were flushed. Even then, she didn’t stop.

‘Why?’ Olivia asked him.

‘I want to see.’

‘See what? You’re blind, you little knob,’ Olivia said, and the child laughed like the child he was, and she hoisted him onto her back and climbed the tower.

Samir was restless. He’d been like it all day. He kept losing focus and staring at nothing. The others put it down to the heat. Jevram made him drink lots of water. But Samir could see things in his mind. Battles. An older man with a bald head. A black woman. Other faces and places. He saw war, but on a greater scale than before.

‘Wait,’ Samir said when they reached the top, and he paused to look down, seeing the others in lurid colours and glowing orbs of energy. ‘You should all come up,’ he said before Olivia carried him out through the hole in the roof.

The others shared looks, and after a moment, they followed him up and stood on that walkway while the sweat poured from their faces in the crushing heat.

‘Why are we up here? It’s too hot,’ Sophie said as the child lifted his arm to point, and they all looked into the distance as a mushroom cloud explosion rolled into the sky.

A moment later, they heard the boom as the silos went up at Gatwick.

It made their hearts beat harder. That someone else was out there doing something, and because a blind child knew it would happen and even pointed at it.

‘We should lock down,’ Bev said, ‘in case whatever’s going on comes our way.’

‘Not yet,’ Samir said. ‘The rains will come first.’

‘What rain?’ Bev asked as the first fat raindrop landed on her nose.

‘That rain,’ Mike said as the heavens opened and the rains started.

The relentless, unceasing rain.

They went outside many times the next day to stand and run, and shower, and play in the warm, falling waters. They delighted in the novelty of it. Thor enjoyed it too and flew around the building and over the plazas, but he always came back.

They ate food and played board games. They exercised and bickered, and fell out, and made up.

Mike walked into the bathroom in the other building five nights ago, not realising Bev was already inside having a naked squaddie wash at the sinks.

‘Ach, sorry!’ he said and turned away to rush out, and stopped outside, and stared down in wonder. ‘Will ye look at that,’ he murmured.

‘Look at what?’ Bev asked from inside the bathroom as Mike leaned in with a wink.

‘I just got my first erection in about ten years!’

She laughed with delight. ‘Don’t waste it then!’ she called as he disappeared, and the door swung inwards, with Mike striding back in.

‘Thought you’d never ask!’

Three days ago, that being the day thirty-two since the old world ended, Mike went out to scout the area. He took Sophie with him.

They came back just before nightfall.

‘They’re surrounding the city,’ Mike told the others.

‘How many?’ Bev asked.

‘Thousands,’ Mike said.

‘If we leave now, we can get out,’ Sophie said, and once more, they all looked to Samir as his mother swept the hair from his forehead.

‘Samy. Maybe it is time to leave,’ Debora said softly.

‘We must stay. She wants me, and I need them.’

‘Why, Samy? Tell me why!’ Debora asked, but the child would say no more.

Mike and Sophie went back out the next day and saw more infected on all sides of the city.

‘She will bring many thousands,’ Samir said that night.

‘I can kill a few hundred with my tricks,’ Mike said. ‘But thousands? We don’t have enough bullets for that.’

They checked again the next day, on the thirty-fourth day, and they saw yet more, and the mood grew hard and heavy within The Great Hall.

That night, the child told them he needed things from the town, and that there was still time to get them because they would come during the night of the thirty-fifth day.

They would come the next night.

Mike and Sophie went out at first light and ventured along the silent High Street to get the things the boy wanted, and the rain fell on Samir and the others standing in the plaza when Mike and Sophie came back. They stood for a moment longer, as though enjoying it while they could. Then Bev nodded and took them back inside, so they could put the locking bar across the door.

Now, on day thirty-five since the old world fell and the Brave, New World began, Sophie and Olivia climb down from the scaffolding tower, and they all stare at each other.

Knowing the city is surrounded.

Knowing they must stay here while Elaine brings many thousands against them.

Which means they will die.

And yet.

And yet.

‘And yet,’ Sophie whispers, knowing they could leave while knowing they won’t.

None of them can explain it either.

Only that they must stay here and die because Samir said if they don’t, then everything else will.

That rain falls on Elaine Sotheby too as she stands in the rain at the edge of Headbourne Worthy, a small town one mile north of Winchester.

A woman now so very different to the woman that fled from Todd Driscoll twenty-five days ago.

A woman of maturity and intelligence, who feels the weight of her army within her mind.

One hundred thousand hosts at her back. Taken and turned into the true state of being, and more still being drawn from villages and towns surrounding the city. Navigating the floods to get here and be a part of the Great Army of the True State of Being.

But Elaine isn’t just going to kill the boy. She is going to kill all of them and then lead the rest south, to the fort she keeps seeing in the minds of the hosts she takes.

She’ll take that and everywhere else.

She wants it all.

And now, as the sky darkens on the thirty-fifth day, she stands staring towards the city of Winchester.

Knowing the child is somewhere within it.

A moment in time.

A moment of pure energy as Elaine nods and wills the order for her army to move.

But Elaine has learned from her mistakes, and so it’s not her entire army that moves out. Several thousand remain in Headbourne Worthy.

Ready to charge when needed.

‘They are coming,’ Samir says amidst the nervous jokes and banter within The Great Hall, and within that instant, the jokes end, and they all look to the child. ‘We must be quiet,’ he whispers in such a way, it makes the hairs on their necks stand on end. ‘If they find us. We will die too soon.’

None of them understand it.

None of them can grasp any of it.

But still they comply.

2

Day Thirty-Five

Christ’s Hospital School

Just outside of Horsham

Diary of Carmen Eze

I don’t know how Tappy does it, but she found a way through the floods and got us back to Christ’s Hospital or the school hospital, or whatever it’s called. I just asked Reggie. He said it’s Christ’s School Hospital.

And remember, Tappy did that without satnavs or maps. We didn’t have anything. All our kit was in the Saxon and the Royal Mail van, which we’d left at the school before we’d deployed to what we thought would be a simple rescue mission to the Hindhead tunnels.

We did get caught out, though. We’d got so focussed on the infected being the only real source of danger that we hadn’t even considered that the natural environment could hurt us. We’d survived countless skirmishes and several full on large-scale battles. Look at Gatwick. Tell me of any such thing in modern history, where fifty thousand humans were killed like that.

Okay, I stand corrected (again). I just asked Reggie that one too. He said we were close but not quite and that on July 1st in 1916 during the Battle of the Somme in World War One, the British Army suffered nearly sixty thousand casualties.

Knowing that makes me see the world through Howie’s eyes. Which, I think, most of us are doing now. The lies. The deceit. The bullshit, and how it kept us all oppressed and divided, and fighting each other – and how all of that led people into slaughtering each other often for no real reason.

I look at Howie differently now. I thought he was a lucky scrapper, who was charming enough to get a few followers. I mean, he's affable and silly, and he wears his heart on his sleeve, but then he switches, and I don’t know. I can’t explain it. It’s like you don’t want that Howie to think badly of you.

Like with the whole Booker thing. Henry would go apeshit if he knew I was creating a written record of what we did, but Paula was right when she said it’s important to keep written records. And this isn’t the old world anymore, and I don’t work for Henry. I’ve told him that, and I’ve spoken to Howie and Paula, and said I want to be like Roy with their team. Like an independent that works with them. Roy does that. He’s the medic and does overwatch, but he maintains just a bit of a distance from the inner politics and dynamics. He can slip into meetings with the elders and help plan or not do that, and they’re cool with it. That’s what I want to do. I want to work with Blowers sometimes because his team is big. But then I want to go into the elders’ meetings and help plan, and then other times, I want to be on my own.

And that’s what this new world is about. Well. To me it is. It’s about not giving a fuck about what you were and focussing on being here and doing the right thing for the right reasons.

Which takes me back to that whole thing with Booker. I mean, we all knew Booker was a wrong’un as Frank would say. It was obvious from the way he stared at the women and tried to sneak up on them when they were alone, or he’d just happen to go outside for a shower in the rain at the same time as one of us, and the way he looked when our tops were wet. I get guys look. Women look too. It’s human nature. But the lads glance and then realise, and look away in literally like a split-second. Booker’s eyes lingered way too long.

Whatever. He was a wrong’un, and Reginald wanted him out of the squad. Unity is essential to Reginald. Reginald fears the infection can twist and mutate, and do to us what it did to Marcy and a woman called Lani if we separate too harshly from the hive or the pack. I don’t know. Reginald told me it could create a sudden chemical imbalance that alters the way the infection operates within us, or something like that.

Hence, why Reginald took advantage of the downtime in the garden centre and discreetly tasked Henry to find a way to get Booker off the squad. (Howie doesn’t know any of this, and honestly? I don’t know what he’d do if he did know.)

Normally, that kind of work would be done by George (who excels at disrupting and undermining). But we didn’t have George, so Henry came up with the whole thing about planting the night-vision wildlife cameras and making it look like Booker had put them in the bathroom while also using it as a way to bring Maddox over into his team. But then Henry knew he was losing me, so he wanted another number in his private empire.

I don’t mean that badly. I love Henry in my own way. He saved me from my own life and gave me a chance, and I’ll always be thankful for that. But I think Howie was right when he said Henry wants revenge because whoever planned the whole outbreak didn’t want Henry involved.

But then, to each our own. And do the motivations really matter if we are all committed to achieving the end goal?

The point is, going back to Booker, we planned a good old-fashioned British Security Services stitch up and framed him. Henry even wrote the incident reports in the garden centre logbook for Maddox to find. (I actually think Maddox knows that. He’s hard work sometimes, but he is very switched on.)

The reason I’m saying all of that about Booker is because right at the point “I found the camera” in the bathroom and came out, and kicked off, and turned it into a big scene, which is when Booker was protesting his innocence, and I was turning the group against him, Howie came down the stairs and stared at us all, and I felt so shitty. I really did. Howie didn’t even say anything. And if he did speak, I don’t remember what he said. It was that look he gave us. I’ve done some awful things in my career. I’ve tricked and lied, and ruined careers, and killed lots of people, but I never once felt as bad as I did right then.

I even felt guilty when Booker got exiled because I could see how broken he was at the thought Howie didn’t like him anymore.

But then Maddox caught him raping zombie women. So, fuck him. Booker, I mean. Not Maddox.

I told Henry that I’d do the Booker thing as one final task as a member of his team, but after that, I was independent.

But yes. We’d got caught out in Hindhead. Massively caught out. Not that it was our fault, and we’d almost lost Dave too. Which was truly frightening. I don’t know what Howie and the others would have done without Dave. But Dave didn’t die. Or maybe he did, and he went to the place Blowers is always going on about.

We got out of it though and fought through Hindhead, including that Big Bertha zombie woman that Dave had to kill with a grenade. Then, after swimming through flood waters, we reached the van dealership place and all followed Tappy, who was somehow reading the magnetic lay lines of the Earth or doing something magical. I don’t know what she did. I don’t think Tappy even knows how she can do it but only that she can. Mind you, Danny can see our auras, and Nick’s engineering abilities are now insanely good. Clarence’s strappy prosthetic thing is a work of absolute genius. Tappy put it all together, but it was Nick that designed it. My point is, the infection seems to enhance gifts and abilities. Even Reginald says he is much smarter than he was before.

I don’t think I have a gift, though. I’m very highly trained but not gifted. Unless my gift is diary keeping! That actually made me laugh out loud. Imagine that – I become an elite diarist in the apocalypse!

Anyway. So, yes, Tappy got us back to the school.

I was in a van with the elders, behind the bigger minibus driven by Tappy. I was staying close to Reggie. (Not that he noticed.) We pulled up, with Tilda giving some orders to the sentries on duty on the train station platform; then we were on the road and heading into the school grounds and finally through the fortified fences to the enclosed square.

Which is where the chaos began.

‘Okay! Let’s get these people inside. They need dry clothes and hot food!’ Tilda shouted to the staff and children rushing over to help the survivors and children out of the vehicles.

Then I saw Gerry Leeson, the headteacher, jogging over in a set of nice, clean waterproofs. While we all looked like we’d been wrestling muddy sea monsters.

‘Had a slight issue,’ Tilda told him calmly, as though making a report. ‘Tunnels collapsed from a flood. We lost half of the survivors. We then had a contact during escape and evasion.’

‘And Miranda?’ Gerry asked, and truthfully, I think it was only then that any of us realised the tunnel leader wasn’t with us.

‘I don’t think she made it,’ Paula said, ‘but we’ve got about one hundred and fifty people out, and some from Hindhead town.’

‘Right. Gosh,’ Gerry said. He seemed a good man, but I think Tilda ran the show at the school.

‘Gerry, are you okay taking over getting the survivors sorted?’ Tilda prompted as Gerry blinked and seemed to jerk to attention.

‘Of course! Yes! I’ll get right on that!’ he said and rushed off.

‘Fuck’s sake,’ I heard Howie say and looked to him and the lads trying to light cigarettes in the pouring rain, which, I think, Nick had taken from the Saxon, and which obviously wasn’t going so well (because of the rain).

‘Language, Mr Howie!’ Gerry shouted from somewhere. ‘And no smoking on school grounds!’

‘Is he being fucking serious?’ Howie asked.

‘In fairness, though, he’s got a lot of kids to look after,’ I told him.

‘In fairness, though, we fell off a cliff, and Dave drowned, and we had to fight Big Bertha, and my coffee levels are wayyyy down.’

‘Have we settled on that then?’ Paula asked as we all looked at her. ‘Big Bertha.’

‘In fairness, I think we have,’ Howie said and stared at his soggy cigarette slowly falling apart.

‘Are you going to say in fairness in front of everything now?’ I asked him.

‘In fairness, I might,’ he said and tutted again, and swore a great many times. ‘Reginald! Make it stop raining.’

‘I’ll get right on that, Mr Howie,’ Reginald said as he grimaced at the rain pouring over his head and down his face. Which, I must admit, made him look very dashing.

‘I think you look very dashing in the rain,’ I told him. Because I was trying to be a bit more obvious that I liked him.

‘Damp, more like,’ Marcy said. Who did actually look like she was on a photoshoot with purposefully soaked hair and still with the waterproof, pink make-up on her cheeks and fanning out from her eyes. ‘But in fairness, though, why are we standing in the rain?’

‘Because, in fairness, it is raining,’ Howie said.

‘I’ve got that, in fairness,’ Marcy said. ‘But the thrust of my query was to question why, indeed, we are standing in it?’

‘Ah,’ Howie and all the others said as though they now realised what she meant. ‘In which case, and in fairness, yes, that is a good question. Nick! Why are we standing in the rain?’

‘Yes, Nick. Why are we standing in the rain?’ Marcy asked him.

‘Nick!’ Henry called. ‘Why are we standing in the rain?’

‘In fairness, I’m not the rain guy,’ Nick said. ‘But also, in more fairness, I can see a pub right there.’

‘A pub, you say?’ Howie asked as we all shuffled around to see that Nick was correct, and there was, indeed, a pub right there. ‘In fairness, Nick’s right. There’s a pub right there.’

‘In fairness, Mr Howie,’ Henry said. ‘Nick was the right man to ask, seeing that he is the rain guy.’

‘I’m not the rain guy,’ Nick said as we all looked at him. ‘In fairness,’ he added.

‘It’s not actually a pub,’ Tilda then said.

‘You didn’t say in fairness,’ Howie said while her team, Bibi, Johnny, Ali, and Tamara, all blinked from her to Howie, then back to Tilda as though waiting for her to tell him off and stop being silly.

‘In fairness,’ she said with serious aplomb. (Where does the word aplomb come from? I just asked Reginald, who said, without even checking anything, that it comes from the French and was originally a word used in ballet to mean perpendicular steadiness, which then later got adopted to mean confidence and stability, which then makes me realise I might have used it in the wrong context. But anyway. Tilda said in fairness, which was a nice touch because it showed she was one of us now.)

‘It’s the teachers lounge and doubles as an officers’ mess for the military training centre.’

‘But if it looks like a pub and talks like a pub,’ Howie said.

‘I suggest we hereby requisition it for the war effort,’ Clarence said, who then also got a look. ‘In fairness,’ he added.

‘Righto. You’d best go and kick the door down then,’ Howie told him.

‘You don’t need to kick the door down,’ Tilda said. ‘It’s unlocked.’

‘In fairness, though, Clarence does like kicking doors down,’ Howie said.

‘But in fairness, I don’t want my officers’ mess door needlessly kicked down,’ Tilda said. Which I thought was fair enough.

‘That’s fair enough,’ I said.

‘But if by some mistake the door is indeed locked, can Clarence kick it down?’ Howie asked.

‘No. I’ll get the key.’

Which I also thought was fair enough. ‘That’s fair enough,’ I said.

And so, we all bundled into the teachers’ lounge stroke officers’ mess, which looked suspiciously like a pub.

‘This really looks like a pub,’ Howie said as we all dripped rain on the floor while Tilda yelled at someone outside, and a moment or two later, dry towels were being handed around. Which was nice.

‘This is nice,’ Paula said, drying her face and hair.

‘The pub or the towels?’ Marcy asked her.

‘In fairness, I meant the towels,’ she said. ‘If we’re still doing the in fairness thing. I mean, it’s hard keeping up with the jingo.’

‘Did you just say the jingo?’ Howie whispered.

‘In fairness, I did, and I realise that I sound, as Tappy would say, old as shit.’

‘Old as shit,’ Tappy said. ‘But in fairness, you’re not old, Paula.’

‘Thank you, Tappy.’

‘I mean, like, not old, old. Like, yeah, you’re older, like, you know, older than all of us but not like granny old.’

‘Thank you, Tappy,’ Paula said again through gritted teeth.

‘In fairness, it is a nice pub, though,’ Roy said as we all glanced around at the olde worlde interior. Red walls and a deep red carpet. ‘They’ve got some real ales too. Does it say what they are, Mads?’ he asked because Maddox was closest to the bar.

‘Er. Figgledetwat or something.’

‘Those’ll be cask ales,’ Frank said.

‘Ah, that’ll be off then,’ Roy said with a tut. ‘What a shame.’

‘Er, hang on. They’ve got bottled ales,’ Maddox said and went behind the bar to find some bottles of ale stacked on the shelves. ‘They won’t be off,’ he added while motioning a bottle towards Roy as though to ask do you want one?

‘Gents? What do you think? Quick half, maybe?’ Roy asked.

‘Quick half wouldn’t hurt,’ Clarence said, looking to Frank.

‘Yeah. Half is alright, I reckon,’ Frank said with a glance to Henry. ‘We endex for the day?’

‘We are, indeed, endex for the day,’ Henry said. ‘And after that kerfuffle, I think a swift half is just what the doctor ordered.’

‘I’m not a doctor, but yes,’ Roy said.

‘Go on then, nipper. Open a couple up,’ Frank said.

‘I’ll try one, please, Maddox,’ Tilda said.

‘Yeah, I’m in,’ Tappy said.

‘You shouldn’t drink and drive,’ Dave said as the entire place went silent, with everyone looking at Dave.

‘Okay,’ Tappy said slowly. ‘Then I will have the zero-alcohol version, please, bartender.’

‘Er, sure,’ Maddox said, pouring a normal bottle into a glass for her as Dave looked away and the planet went back to spinning properly.

‘Wasn’t there something we had to do?’ Paula asked and looked at me. I shrugged, and she shrugged, and we both went to the bar and got a beer. After all. It was endex for the day. We’d got the survivors to safety. Which meant we could decompress, which is actually a very healthy thing to do after an intense mission.

‘Can they have one?’ Maddox asked, nodding at the younger ones. Danny and Mo. Ali, Tamara, Bibi, and Johnny.

‘The legal drinking age is eighteen,’ Dave said as, once again, the entire place went silent.

‘So perhaps they should also have the zero-alcohol beer,’ Tappy said with a big wink.

‘What’s wrong with your eye?’ Dave asked her.

‘Nothing,’ she said quickly as Maddox shrugged and poured enough for everyone.

‘Oi, cyclops,’ Cookey then said while strolling over to pluck the darts out of the dartboard before grinning at Blowers, ‘how’s your depth perception?’

‘Oh, game on. I will fucking end you.’

‘Not a chance,’ Cookey said. ‘Teams, then. I’m having Mo.’

‘Fine. Dave’s on my team.’

‘I’ve got Danny… And Carmen!’

‘Carmen’s a Marine, bellend!’ Blowers said, giving Cookey a middle finger.

‘Fuck you. I’m having the Paras then.’

‘Paras versus Marines. I’m in,’ Frank said as Cookey shouted Henry while Blowers shouted Roy.

‘Boss? You having one?’ Clarence called. ‘Henry? Quick half?’

‘Why not? Quick half can’t hurt,’ Henry said as Clarence passed two glasses over. ‘To your very good health, Mr Howie,’ Henry said while tipping his glass forward.

We all raised our glasses and took the first drink.

I expected it to taste like old men and slippers. But that beer tasted good. Rich and hearty, and that sip turned into a gulp, and the pub soon filled with the sound of many glasses being drained.

‘Now, that didn’t touch the sides,’ Frank said with a satisfied smack of his lips.

‘Aye,’ Clarence said. ‘Good ale that.’

‘Good ale,’ Roy added as Bashir belched with a grin.

‘Does Bash know that’s beer?’ I asked. ‘Bash? That’s beer. BEER!’ I said as he looked at me and said something as Mo and Henry laughed.

‘He said go blow a goat and stop nagging him unless you want to get married, and right now, he doesn’t have a camel to trade for you,’ Henry said.

‘Cheeky sod!’ I said as Bash winked at me and poured more beer into his glass.

‘Can’t let the lad drink on his own,’ Frank said. ‘Best have another half, I reckon.’

‘Another half won’t hurt,’ Clarence said.

‘And we are endex,’ Roy said. ‘Right. Whose team am I on then?’

‘Mine!’ Blowers and Cookey said at the same time.

‘Roy is definitely a Marine,’ Blowers said.

‘He is,’ I said before Cookey could protest.

‘There really was something we were meant to do,’ Paula said as she held her glass with a thoughtful expression and looked at me. I shrugged again. And then she shrugged, and we had another beer.

‘Jess!’ Charlie then said as the door slammed open, or rather, flew off the hinges from Jess barging her way inside.

‘My door!’ Tilda said.

‘Wasn’t me,’ Clarence said as Jess slammed a few tables away, which we all thought was to get to Charlie, and we even made cute noises, except Charlie also got barged aside, so Jess could reach the bar and start slurping beer.

‘Can horses drink beer?’ Maddox then asked as we all looked at Jess shoving her tongue into his glass.

‘It’s those bloody biscuits,’ Charlie said, giving Clarence a look.

‘Gateway drug,’ Marcy said as she stepped in. ‘Ooh. Mads, have they got peanuts?’

‘In fairness, yes’ Maddox said and dumped loads of bags on the bar.

‘Those are roasted. I want salty nuts.’

‘Well, I have been sweating all day,’ Howie said. I think he frightened himself with that quip, which everyone else found very funny.

‘That was rather tasty,’ Reginald said as he lowered his empty glass. ‘Unexpectedly so. I wasn’t one to partake in ales and beers, and suchlike. But it is rather fulfilling, especially after our endeavours. But I say, can horses drink beer?’

‘We’ve had that conversation,’ Clarence said.

‘Another one?’ Maddox asked Reginald, having apparently assumed the role of bartender.

‘Well, now. I don’t mind if I do,’ Reginald said.

‘Can’t let him drink on his own,’ Frank said. ‘Another half? My round.’

‘Well. We are endex,’ Roy said.

‘You having one?’ Clarence asked, holding a glass out to Paula.

‘I will, thank you, but I’m sure there’s something we should be doing?’ she said and looked at me again.

‘Why do you keep looking at me?’ I asked. ‘I mean. There’s lots we should be doing, like stripping and cleaning weapons because they’ve been in the water all day, and getting dry kit, and taking food on.’

‘Hmmm. All valid points,’ she said, and we both shrugged and drank more beer. ‘You know,’ she said with a sigh, ‘I thought it would taste of old men and slippers, but it’s actually very nice.’

‘Very nice,’ I said.

‘Very nice,’ the others chorused.

‘But I want salty nuts,’ Marcy said.

‘Your horse is drinking my beer,’ Tilda said, ‘after breaking my door.’

‘Addicts these days, honestly!’ Henry said as he drained his glass. ‘That was very nice.’

‘Very nice,’ Howie said.

‘Very nice,’ we all chorused.

‘Another one?’ Maddox asked.

‘Swift half can’t hurt,’ Howie said. ‘My round!’

‘Well. We are endex,’ Roy said as Blowers handed him three darts. ‘My turn, is it? What do I have to do?’

‘What the fuck?’ Blowers said. ‘You’ve never played darts before?’

‘Nope. You throw them at that board, don’t you? In the middle?’

‘Yeah, we’re playing 501, so you gotta get the highest score possible cos it’s the first team down to zero.’

‘What’s the highest one?’

‘That thin line on the top of the twenty. That’s a triple,’ Blowers said.

‘What, that one?’ Roy asked as he threw the dart with the obvious expectation that it would land where he wanted it. Except it didn’t, and he missed the board completely.

‘Fuck yes!’ Cookey said as his team burst into cheers.

‘Hang on. That was just my first one,’ Roy said, then threw again, and hit the fruit machine. ‘Jesus! Right. Last one.’

‘Yo!’ Mo shouted as he ducked from the dart going over his head, which then stuck in Dave’s shoulder, and the whole place went absolutely silent. I mean, even Jess and Meredith stopped slurping beer as we all looked over to Dave standing at the bar, holding a glass without a flicker of reaction at the dart poking out of his shoulder.

‘He is. He’s Chuck Norriseseses love child,’ Blowers whispered.

‘Who’s Chuck Norris?’ Ali whispered.

‘Fuck off!’ came the many whispered replies as we all stayed absolutely still and stared at Dave drinking beer with a dart stuck in his shoulder.

‘Someone should pull it out,’ Blowers whispered. ‘Nick!’

‘Fuck that.’

‘Idiots,’ Marcy said with a tut as she walked over and plucked it free as Dave blinked at her. ‘You had a dart stuck in your shoulder.’

‘Okay, Marcy,’ he said, and Marcy tutted again and flung the dart at the board with barely a glance, which hit the triple twenty dead centre.

‘MARCY’S ON MY TEAM!’ Blowers and Cookey both then yelled.

‘Not until I get some salted bloody nuts!’ she said.

‘I’m looking!’ Maddox yelped from somewhere behind the bar.

‘Zombies!’ Paula then shouted as we all dropped our glasses and made ready for war.

‘Where?’ Howie demanded.

‘What?’ Paula asked.

‘The bloody zombies!’ Howie said.

‘I know! Exactly,’ Paula said with a roll of her eyes and a chuckle.

‘What the actual fuck,’ Howie said.

‘Did he even feel it, though?’ Bibi asked, still staring at Dave in awe.

‘I knew there was something,’ Paula said with a chuckle. ‘We saw the infected on the way back. Remember? We said we needed to see where they were going?’

‘Oh!’ Howie and Henry, and many others all said as we all realised we weren’t under immediate attack and gathered our glasses for another swift half.

‘Quick half won’t hurt,’ Frank said.

‘We are endex,’ Roy said. ‘Everyone in? My round.’

‘Right. Yes. So. Nicholas! Drone up, please,’ Paula said as Nick looked fit to cry.

‘But it’s raining,’ he said. ‘And I don’t think it’s fully waterproof.’

‘Well, find a car and go, and look for the zombies then,’ Howie said as Nick nodded and made for the door. ‘Nick! Don’t do that. Put the bloody drone up.’

‘I was getting it,’ he said.

‘Oh! I thought you were getting a car to go and look for them,’ Howie said.

‘I thought that,’ Paula said.

‘He literally didn’t even feel it,’ Bibi said, still staring at Dave.

‘Nuts, Maddox!’

‘I’m bloody looking, Marcy!’

‘Marcy, throw your next dart,’ Blowers said and pushed a dart in her hand, which she tutted at and flung it at the board.

‘Fuck off!’ Cookey shouted as it hit the bullseye.

‘He had an actual dart stuck him in,’ Bibi said as the normal chaos ensued. What with Marcy being slightly tipsy, leaning over the bar in the search for salted nuts while the others flung darts, and Nick got power into the wall-mounted TV and did clever things to make it sync to the drone controller, which he then got ready inside the pub.

‘Frank!’ Cookey said and handed him the darts, and we all paused to watch. Well, not all of us, the dog and the horse didn’t, and Dave was busy taking on fluids too. But the rest of us watched Frank take aim and fling his first dart, which hit a triple twenty to cheers from the Paras and jeers from the Marines. He missed the triple twenty with the next one but got a twenty, then hit a double twenty with the third.

‘Hundred and twenty! Beat that bird,’ he said to me, and right then, in that light, as he was standing next to Cookey, with both giving toothy grins, with both having mops of thick hair, and both with twinkling, blue eyes and being of the same height and build. Well. I wasn’t the only one thinking it.

‘Oh, shit,’ Blowers said.

‘Eh?’ Cookey asked.

‘Soooo, did you get down south much about twenty-three years ago there, Frank?’ Clarence asked.

‘Eh?’ Frank asked.

‘Meet up with a lady in the south about twenty-three years ago, did you, Frank?’ Howie asked.

‘Eh?’ Frank asked again.

‘Did you know your dad, Cookey?’ Marcy asked while still kind of upside down over the bar, looking for nuts.

‘Eh?’ Cookey asked, with them both pulling the exact same expression of confusion. ‘No, he fucked off before I was born.’

‘Well. Guess what? He’s back!’ Blowers said.

‘Who is?’ Cookey asked and shared a shrug with Frank. ‘What they on about?’

‘No idea, nips. They’re trying Jedi mind meld warfare on us cos we’re winning.’

‘Cheeky fuckers,’ Cookey said.

‘Cheeky fuckers,’ Frank said.

‘Can’t unsee it,’ I said.

‘I know, right?’ Paula said.

‘Are they?’ Tamara asked, motioning Frank and Cookey. ‘I mean, they look like it.’

‘Like what?’ Cookey asked.

‘Ignore ’em. Don’t fall for it,’ Frank said.

‘You know. Honestly, though,’ Charlie said, who was perhaps a bit tipsy. Mind you, we all were. ‘And I’m just going to say it. I will. I shall just say it.’

‘Shall you say it, Charles?’ Cookey asked.

‘Do shall away,’ Frank said, which only made it worse.

‘I mean. As a woman. As a woman,’ Charlie stated emphatically. ‘Frank is kind of hot,’ she added as most of the women in the bar and Bibi all murmured in agreement. Which I understood. I mean, he is Frank McGill and ridiculously capable while also being very charming and funny.

Which then made me think of what Cookey did to the clowns in the tent in Rye.

Which is what Frank would have done.

‘Really can’t unsee it,’ I said again.

‘I’m flattered,’ Frank said with a wink to Charlie. ‘But you’re too young, so I shall not meet you in the bogs for a quickie,’ Frank said.

‘Yep. Like father like son,’ Charlie said with an eyeroll.

‘Mads is more your type anyway.’

‘No! Leave me out of it,’ Maddox groaned.

‘Er, excuse me!’ Charlie then said in a haughty tone.

‘What did I say?’ Frank asked.

‘I don’t even know,’ Cookey said.

‘Stop delaying and take your turn,’ Frank said and handed me the darts, and it was only when I moved from my spot, that I realised just how tipsy I was.

‘Don’t fucking miss,’ Blowers told me.

‘Good pep talk,’ I told him and took aim, and was about to throw when I paused and asked Frank what he got again.

‘Hundred and twenty,’ he said.

I winked and threw a triple twenty, and smiled at the ensuing cheers and jeers. Then I hit a triple fifteen and got some confused glances because fifteen isn’t close to twenty, and it was obvious I’d aimed for it. I think Blowers clocked it, though, because he had a little smile. Roy was the same and nodded knowingly. ‘Sixteen?’ he murmured. I nodded, and my last dart hit sixteen as Blowers and Roy, and Charlie all grinned.

‘One hundred and twenty-one,’ I said with a wink at Frank as the cheers went up properly.

‘I’m ready to launch! LAUNCHING! I AM LAUNCHING’ Nick then shouted, also rather tipsily. ‘STAND CLEAR!’

‘We’re clear, bellend,’ Blowers said as Nick flicked him a middle finger, and the drone shot up and took out several ceiling lights.

‘My lights!’ Tilda said.

‘Wasn’t me,’ Clarence said. ‘Another half while we’re waiting?’

‘Swift half won’t hurt,’ Frank said.

‘We are endex,’ Roy said.

And so we all had more beer while Nick flew the drone at Dave, who, while hydrating and without even looking, put his hand up to stop it flying into his head.

Which, of course, made Bibi and Johnny, and the others only increase their levels of awe while the rest of us, now used to Dave’s skills, searched for nuts and broke things, and threw darts at the board.

‘Can I have a turn?’ Charlie asked. ‘Am I Marine or a Para?’

‘Charlie is definitely a Marine,’ Blowers said.

‘Why is she?’ Cookey asked.

‘Cos she can count past ten,’ Blowers said.

‘Oi!’ Frank said. ‘I’ll fight you and all twelveteen of your mates!’

‘Shit joke, Frank!’ I groaned as Charlie took her turn and got shoulder butted by Jess as she threw the first one.

‘Don’t throw it at the window!’ Blowers said.

‘I didn’t mean to!’ Charlie said. ‘What do you want?’ she asked Jess, who was trying to hit her on the head with an empty beer bottle in her mouth. ‘I think she wants another beer.’

‘Can’t let her drink on her own,’ Frank said. ‘Swift half?’

‘Well. We are endex,’ Roy said as Maddox opened more beer bottles, which prompted Jess to try and rear up in excitement, and put her head through several ceiling tiles.

‘My ceiling!’ Tilda said and ducked from the drone flying at her head which then hit one of the gas lanterns we’d lit, which, of course, smashed and set fire to a table. Which was then quickly doused by everyone throwing beer over it.

‘Best day ever!’ Cookey said with a delighted laugh.

‘Fuck off,’ Nick groaned at him and seemed to know what was coming from the way Blowers and Howie, and Clarence were all laughing.

‘Nick likes burning things down,’ Cookey said.

‘Piss off! Go and play darts with your dad,’ Nick said and flew the drone through a window. ‘Oops!’

‘My window!’ Tilda said.

‘I just said I don’t know my dad, you bellend,’ Cookey said.

‘You do now,’ Clarence said and looked at his empty glass. ‘Another swift half? My round.’

‘FUCK YES!’ Maddox then roared in victory and came up holding a bag of salted nuts.

‘Yes!’ Marcy said and held her hand out as Maddox went to hand them over but stopped and narrowed his eyes.

‘What if I also like salted nuts?’ he asked.

‘Cookey!’ said many people at the same, which was very funny, and it made me spray beer over Reginald’s legs.

‘I’m so sorry!’ I said.

‘It’s quite alright, my dear,’ he said as I grabbed a towel and started drying his thighs.

‘Where am I going anyway?’ Nick asked while staring at the screen showing the landscape beneath the drone. Muted greens and browns, and the rain still lashing down, and the daylight fading fast.

‘West,’ Roy said. ‘Go west.’

‘Together!’ we all sang. ‘We will go our way. Together! We will leave someday!’

We then sang the whole bloody song. Well. Not all of us, seeing as Danny and Mo, and the other young ones had never heard the Pet Shop Boys song Go West. But they joined in on the go west bits and made noise, and Tilda got stuck in, and the horse and the dog drank beer, and we had a merry old time, what with it being endex and all.

Which is what we thought it was because we had no idea what was going to happen. We’d done our mission.

‘We’ll play darts for it,’ Marcy then told Maddox when we finished singing.

‘Not a chance,’ he said, having seen how good she was. ‘Rock paper scissors.’

‘Don’t do it, Marce!’ Mo called. ‘Mads never loses at rock paper scissors.’

‘Oh. Well. Now you’ve said that,’ Marcy said with a grin as they both tucked their hands behind their backs. ‘On three. One… Two… Three!’

Maddox went rock. He knew Marcy would go scissors. Someone like Marcy would always go scissors. And I think she was going to, from the shape of her hand, but she changed it last second as she brought her hand round and went for paper. Which, of course, beats rock.

‘Yay!’ she said as the cheers and jeers went up, and Maddox duly handed the nuts over, which she opened and started scoffing with a big shit-eating grin.

‘What’s that grin for?’ he asked.

‘That,’ she said with a laugh and nodded past him to the mirror that she’d seen his hand in.

‘You fucking cheat!’ he said and lunged for the bag as she darted off with a shout.

‘I’m flying the drone!’ Nick said when she bumped into him, and all three slammed into Clarence, who jolted forward and put his big metal spike hand thing through the glass front of the fruit machine.

‘My fruit machine,’ Tilda muttered because, by then, she was also tipsy, and her pub was pretty much wrecked anyway. And still smouldering a bit from the fire.

‘Hang on, hang on, hang on,’ Paula then said with a hiccup. ‘The question is… The question is… What are we doing if we find them?’ she asked as though she’d asked the secret to immortality. ‘Hmmm? Eh? What then? I thought we were going for the pancreas.’

‘Panacea,’ Charlie said with her head cocked over as she stared at Cookey and Frank side by side, with both of them holding their glasses in the same hand and in the same way.

‘Can’t unsee it,’ I said.

‘The pancrasata,’ Paula said. ‘Stop being so smart, Charlie. And beautiful. You are very beautiful, Charlie. I just look at you sometimes, and I think Charlie is so beautiful!’

‘Aw, Paula!’ Charlie then said with tears in her eyes as Paula’s eyes grew misty.

‘And Tappy too!’ Paula said and pulled them into a hug as all three started crying.

‘In fairness, that is a good question, though,’ I said.

‘In fairness!’ many of them chorused.

‘Hmmm. Yes,’ Henry said in a wise and sage voice. ‘And I would reply that currently, in the finest traditions of the military, we’re bloody well winging it.’

‘It was an organic transition of events that led to the current situation,’ Howie said to cheers from the lads and Clarence, and Frank. ‘And there won’t be that many zombies left anyway,’ Howie added. ‘We’ve pretty much cleared this area out.’

‘Ninety million,’ Dave then said.

‘I swear that number goes up every time you say it,’ Howie said. ‘Whatever. Nick’ll find ’em, and we’ll push ’em off a cliff or something.’

‘Best plan ever,’ Blowers said.

‘Good plan, boss,’ Clarence said.

‘Shit plan,’ Marcy said.

‘I’ve got a line!’ Nick then shouted, bringing attention back to the screen showing a bird’s eye view over a patchwork landscape of fields. Some flooded with small lakes. Others draining well. A few hamlets of houses. All of them in darkness. Narrow country roads, and there, clearly visible despite the failing light, a solid line of infected all moving in the same direction.

‘Best get a quick half in then,’ Frank said.

‘Quick half can’t hurt,’ Clarence said.

‘We are endex,’ Roy said, and the bottles got passed out, and glasses refilled. I mean. Looking back, perhaps we should have stopped drinking then. But we didn’t. We’d had a shit day and got drenched, and so what we could see some infected on the screen. That wasn’t new to us, and what with the camping gas lamps the pub was all warm and cosy. Our energy was good. We were decompressing, and like I said, with the beers in me. I don’t know. I think because of all those things, and because I was constantly looking at Reginald, I then suddenly became very aware of him.

Okay. Now I sound like a stalker.

I don’t mean that.

What I mean is I was a really quite drunk. We’d not eaten all day, and despite the rain, it was still hot. We’d sweated and lost a lot of fluids, and yeah, we are infected, so it takes more alcohol to have an impact. But we were necking strong beers at a rate of knots, and we were all drunk, and I looked at Reginald and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up from the way he was studying Henry and Howie while they, in turn, were drinking beers and joining in with the animated drunken chats, and staring at the big pub screen on the wall.

I don’t know how it happened, but I just suddenly, right then gained a view of the dynamics, and I realised I was looking at Howie and Henry the way Reginald did. Two leaders. Two sets of egos. They were in the middle of the room, and I swear if I had Danny’s gift, I would have seen their energies or auras brighter or stronger than everyone else’s. But that wasn’t the thing that captivated me. It was Reginald and how he was studying them and not the screen, which made me later think did he know what we’d find? Did he know the whole time? He didn’t seem surprised at all, or worried even. It was like this was all planned, and he knew about. He was quiet and watchful, but he had this level of poised awareness I have never seen before.

He was also still only sipping his second beer. He wasn’t drunk. He was absolutely in control. I realised just how bloody gifted Reginald is because it hit me that even then, even after all of that at Hindhead, it felt like we were right where Reginald wanted us to be.

‘There’s some more!’ Ali said and stood on a chair to point to the corner of the screen as Nick flew higher to widen the view and take in another solid line of infected.

‘Ali, would you twist that screen a little, please,’ Henry asked.

Ali nodded, then frowned, and bent down to whisper at Blowers, ‘What do I call him?’

‘Major.’

‘Yes, Major!’ Ali said with a sweet grin and twisted the screen out to give us a better view.

‘And point them out, so we’re sure, please, Ali,’ Henry said before she could jump down.

‘Er, one line here, and one here,’ Ali said and pointed to them both moving in the same direction as a few lines of static rolled down the screen.

‘We’re close to maximum range,’ Nick said.

‘Understood, Nick. But we need to go further west,’ Henry said and took another drink of his beer. ‘We do need to have that discussion, Howie. About what we do next.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Howie said with a nod. And remember – we didn’t know what we were about to see. Whereas, I honestly think, Reginald did.

‘Another line, Major!’ Ali called and brought all our attention back to more infected moving along a road between flooded fields. ‘And there,’ she added, picking more out as the drone flew over them. Seeing more and more, and many more.

‘That’s a lot,’ Paula said quietly with the first hint of real worry as the fields gave way to streets and what looked like a town somewhere.

But it wasn’t a town.

It was a city.

And it was full of infected.

A city full of infected. Hundreds of them. Thousands. Tens of thousands. More than I’d seen in one place before. And the whole bloody place went completely silent.

‘Where is that, Roy?’ Howie asked into the suddenly charged air.

‘That’s Winchester,’ Roy said as the true scale became apparent because every street was filled with infected.

Nick took the drone higher. And the static got worse, but we saw them all moving as one towards the city centre. A solid, slow-moving mass of human forms aiming in one direction.

‘Fuck me,’ Blowers said with the words stumbling out, perhaps without him even realising. But I could see what he meant. The scale of it. The sheer size of it. This horde was many times bigger than Gatwick.

‘That’s us fucked then,’ Paula said. ‘That’s got to be at least one hundred thousand. We don’t even have one hundred bullets. Unless we can get some more from you, Tilda?’

‘We were going to ask you for some,’ Tilda said.

‘In which case, refer to my earlier statement of us being fucked,’ Paula said. ‘Because that,’ she added and pointed at the screen, ‘is way beyond our scope.’

And yet.

And yet.

‘And yet,’ I murmured because I could feel the lure of it hanging in the air. But then, Paula was right. We didn’t have one hundred bullets between us.

‘A horde that size will take everything in its path,’ Reginald then said in a clear, steady voice.

‘Even that fort place?’ Tamara asked.

‘In seconds,’ Blowers said as the rest of us murmured.

‘They’d swarm the container wall,’ I added.

‘That many could get across the water into the fort,’ Clarence said.

‘Are you suggesting we stop them?’ Paula asked. ‘What with? How? That’s impossible,’ she added as I clocked the look on Reginald’s face and how he was looking at Henry, which then made me look at Henry and the glint shining in his eyes.

‘Not impossible,’ Henry said quietly. ‘We think. We plan. We succeed,’ then he smiled, and I realised he was drunk too. We all were. We were all bloody drunk. ‘In fairness, though,’ Henry added. ‘We’ll just throw Dave at them.’

Which is when we all heard the hiccup, and everyone turned to see Dave standing at the bar, holding an empty glass with the biggest cheese-eating grin you have ever seen. That being an empty glass of the beer that we’d said was zero alcohol. Which Dave had then proceeded to guzzle because, as Dave always said, hydration is important.

‘S’alright,’ Dave said and hiccupped again. ‘S’no acoholololol innit. Innit. Innit bro, you get me?’

‘Oh, shit. We are so fucked,’ Howie said as Dave grinned and leant back against the bar, but missed, and fell over.

And behold, I thought to myself as we all looked down upon a drunk and grinning Dave that it was a strange, new world indeed.

‘I concur,’ Henry said. ‘We appear to be fucked…’

3

Diary of Maddox Doku

New life lesson. Drinking strong ale on an empty stomach after doing hours of hard exercise on a very hot day makes you get very drunk very quickly, because Dave wasn’t the only one that felt it. Although he was the only one that fell over.

After that was just weird. Which is saying something because being anywhere near that lot is always weird. But this was weird on a new level because Henry was giving a briefing while filling up two buckets of water behind the bar.

‘Reginald is right. We need to stop them, but Paula is also right because we don’t have the means to attack them head on. Unless anyone has a handy nuke we can use? No? In which case, we will exfil from here and head directly to the fort.’

‘Fucking cunting fort!’

‘Yes, Sergeant Blowers. I know you hate the fort. Your protests are noted. At the fort, we will gather what support we can muster, and from there, we shall strike Krakov and secure what arms and munitions we can from him, and from there, we shall employ guerrilla style tactics on that horde to draw them north away from the fort, and hopefully, into the flood plains. Everyone got that?’ Henry asked and passed the first bucket of water to Clarence, who told everyone to clear back.

‘You sure about this?’ Howie asked. ‘He won’t be happy. You know he hates water.’

‘It’ll be fine,’ Clarence said and threw the bucket of water over Dave, who was half giggling and half snoring on the floor. It was a big bucket too, and Clarence aimed it at Dave’s head. Which got Dave sputtering and trying to sit up as Clarence grinned, grabbed the second bucket, and threw that at Dave too.

‘I AM DAVE!’ Dave then shouted as he tried getting up to fight Clarence, but he was still drunk and ended up karate chopping a table as Clarence burst out laughing and got a chair thrown at him as Dave started his first ever pub brawl.

Then, after everyone had piled between them, Danny puked on the floor and started begging Clarence not to throw water on him.

‘He won’t throw anything on you,’ Paula told him, using a cloth to wipe Danny’s mouth.

‘Thank you,’ Danny said before bursting into tears and telling Paula he loved her.

‘Oh, my god. That’s so sweet,’ Tappy then said, and she also burst into tears because, you know, beers + empty stomachs + exercise + hot day = emotional twats.

‘Oh, and Charlie,’ Henry said, who by then seemed to be impervious to the sheer fucking idiocy of Howie’s team. ‘Might be a good idea to leave Jess out of this one again.’

Which, and I kid you not, then made Charlie start to cry as she kissed and hugged Jess, who was still poking her tongue in the glasses of beer on the bar. ‘I’ll miss you so much!’ Charlie said.

‘I’m sorry, Paula. I didn’t mean to be sick,’ Danny said as Tamara and Ali tried to hug him and Mo, and everyone seemed to be hugging and crying.

‘Oh, my god, I love you guys soooo much!’ Tamara was saying.

Mind you, Dave wasn’t hugging anyone or crying.

‘I AM DAVE, YOU FAT PARA,’ he shouted and kicked a table at Clarence.

‘Did he just call me fat? Did Dave just call me fat? YOU LITTLE SHIT!’

‘The fort’s a stinking pile of cunt! I fucking hate it,’ Blowers was saying.

‘FIGHT ME!’ Dave shouted.

‘Let me go! I’ll fight the little shit!’

‘But I really love you, Marcy. And not just cos you’ve got big boobs.’

‘Aw, I love you too, Danny. Now drink some water.’

‘Guys. Honestly. I’m so drunk. How am I gonna drive?’

‘I love you, Jess. I love you so much!’

And while all that was going on, Johnny was still singing Go West, and it appeared he did not have a stutter when he sang.

‘I need to say something!’ Bibi Thapa then stated dramatically.

‘Oh god, you always do this when you’re drunk, Bibi,’ Ali said.

‘Don’t tell my dad, but I’m gay!’

‘You’re gay,’ his friends all said at the same time together.

Then Nick’s drone ran out of signal and crashed, and Nick started to cry, which made Tappy and Charlie bawl their eyes out, with Paula and Marcy getting hugged by everyone. Which is while Roy, Frank, Blowers, Cookey, Henry, Bash, and Howie were all trying to keep Clarence and Dave apart. Which is when I also saw Carmen rubbing a towel very vigorously up Reginald’s leg.

‘I rather think it’s all dry now.’

‘Just a bit more up here!’

‘FAT PARA!’

‘STUMPY LEGGED TWAT!’

‘Fucking hate that fort though.’

‘I’m gay!’

‘We know!’

Then that Gavin lad came over to take Jess back to the stables, and Charlie tried to tell him lots of things about what Jess does and doesn’t like, but Gavin didn’t say anything. Which made Charlie think he was being rude. ‘Are you even listening to me!?’

‘Gavin doesn’t speak,’ Tamara told Charlie. ‘He hasn’t said a word for years.’

‘He’s really good with horses, though,’ Ali said.

‘Does Gavin know I’m gay?’ Bibi asked.

‘Everyone knows you’re bloody gay!’ Tamara said.

‘Go West! To where Bibi shuts the fuck up!’ Johnny sang.

‘Right! Load up, we’re moving out!’ Henry then ordered. Or Howie.

‘What, right now?’ Carmen asked. ‘Shouldn’t we sober up first?’

‘We’re infected!’ Henry said. ‘We’ll be sober in no time at all! To the fort!’

Then we were bundling outside into the rain, with Paula telling Clarence off like a scolded child for trying to fight Dave while Dave got told off by Marcy; then they were all getting in the Royal Mail van, and we were getting into the Saxon.

‘I’m so fucking drunk,’ Tappy said.

‘Can you even drive?’ I asked her.

‘I’ll be fine!’ she said and drove into the front of the pub.

‘MY PUB!’ Tilda shouted from the Royal Mail van.

‘My drone!’ Nick said.

‘My Saxon!’ Tappy said.

‘Cunting fucking fort, Blowers said. ‘If they kick off with us again. I’m just saying. That’s all I’m saying.’

I shook my head and turned to see Charlie still crying and looked over to Cookey doing nothing about it. Comfort her, I mouthed at him.

‘Eh?’ he said to me.

‘Comfort her.’

‘Comforter?’

I tutted and shook my head, and held my arm out as though to mimic someone snuggling in and giving them comfort. At which point, Charlie moved into my side and started crying on my shoulder.

‘I miss Blinky so much,’ she said, and I don’t know why, but that hurt me, and I felt it too, and I said sorry, and I felt like crying.

‘I never got to say goodbye. I didn’t even say that, and she was alone. That shouldn’t have happened… And now Jess is back there and, and.’

‘We’s all miss Blinky,’ Mo said, and he shoved in next to Charlie, and she hugged him, and they both cried, and I could see Cookey and Nick wiping their eyes. Although I think Nick might have still been crying for his drone.

‘And I never even told my dad I was gay,’ Bibi said, and he started crying, and it seemed like everyone was crying.

‘Jesus. What are you all crying for?’ Blowers asked as he looked back.

‘Don’t be insensitive,’ Tappy said and hit him on the leg, and drove into a parked car.

‘THAT WAS MY CAR!’ Tilda shouted from the Royal Mail van.

Diary of Paula

It turns out Dave is a mean drunk. But then Clarence did throw two buckets of water in his face, which made all hell break loose.

Charlie was crying, but then she later admitted that she is a crier when she’s drunk. Blinky used to call her Sobber Doyle, apparently. And Tappy is a happy drunk until she sees someone else crying, but I think a few of us were crying by then. Nick certainly was, but that was probably because his beloved drone had crashed and not because he set the pub on fire and broke a window, and the ceiling lights, which was after Jess had smashed the door off and Clarence had broken the fruit machine.

So yes. Like I said. It was chaos – but it was very sweet to see Johnny singing away all happily, and we all noticed he didn’t stutter when he was singing. He’s got a nice voice too, and Bibi was telling everyone he was gay like it was a big announcement. (Apparently, he does it a lot when he’s a had a beer.)

And somewhere in the midst of all that, we saw a gigantic bloody horde in Winchester, and I was saying we didn’t have any bullets left and what did anyone think we could do? Go and throw stones at them?

But then, as Reginald said, ever the voice of reason and logic, we couldn’t just leave that many infected in Winchester, because once they’d finished doing their shopping or visiting museums, or whatever else they were in Winchester for, they’d move out and destroy everything in their path.

Even the fort wouldn’t be able to withstand an attack that large. A horde that size would swarm those walls and the bay and find a way across those waters into the fort, which sounds far-fetched, but we’d seen them body piling to reach high places many times already.

However, it is also super important to stress that at that point – we didn’t actively discuss any of that to any depth. We were too drunk.

Mind you, Henry was still switched on because as we bundled out, Gerry Leeson came running over to find out what the fuss was about. We told him quickly, and he asked about the survivors we’d brought in from Hindhead and if we should rush them to the fort. But Henry said no. ‘Negative. My advice is keep them here. Might be an idea not to put all the survivors in one place until that horde is culled.’

That was smart, and I said so too. I would have thought the opposite and figured to get them to safety. Whereas Henry was thinking not to put all the survivors together, just in case.

‘Tell you what though, Gerry,’ Henry then said as Gerry seemed to become aware that we were really quite drunk. Which is mainly because everyone else was trying to manhandle Clarence and Dave out of the pub and stop them brawling while Cookey and Blowers bickered over the darts tournament not being finished, and Johnny was by then singing Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus, and Bibi was still making his gay announcements, and Charlie and Tappy were still a bit weepy (but in a nice way) while hugging Ali and Tam, and then Danny tripped, and Mo burst out laughing. That’s not to mention Jess walking out through the other door and ripping that one off the hinges.

‘In fairness, though, it was endex,’ Roy told Gerry as the whole bloody lot of them all started chorusing ‘In fairness, though’.

‘But in fairness, though,’ Henry then said to Gerry. ‘Where’s that big bus of yours?’

‘What big bus?’ Gerry asked with a look of horror as we tripped and hiccupped and Tappy missed the step trying to get into the Saxon.

‘The one with the armour,’ Henry said.

‘Oh!’ I said. ‘Oh!’ I said again and maybe a few more times, you know, because I was also drunk. ‘That’s a good idea!’

‘What is?’ Gerry asked.

‘The bus!’ Henry and I said together.

I don’t think Gerry was too keen on us taking his bus. But we said we’d take it anyway. ‘For the war effort,’ Henry told him.

Which is how we ended up bugging out with the lads in the Saxon, who by then were all singing Wrecking Ball. Then Roy and Maddox went in the Royal Mail van, and Frank drove the rest of us in the big, yellow bus. Which had been covered with thick metal sheeting to give it some armour, but with gaps to shoot through, and the windscreen was protected by a thick wire mesh, which made it look all very Mad Max. The seats had been ripped out in the middle section, but four seats left in the front, and some in the back. Which was good because we put Dave in the back and Clarence in the front while the rest of us looked around and wondered where to sit, so we popped out and nicked the bean bags from the Royal Mail, and chucked them in.

Then we set off. Or rather, we attempted to set off, but Tappy crashed the Saxon into the front of the pub, and Roy drove into a wall. Which made Frank laugh so hard he swerved and clipped a long row of parked cars, and sent the rest of us flying in the back.

‘Drive properly, you twat!’ Marcy shouted at him because Marcy is delicate and diplomatic like that.

‘Do you wanna bloody drive it?’ Frank shouted back at her.

‘I’d do a better job than you!’

‘Fine! You bloody drive then.’

‘Fine! I will.’

And so, while Tappy reversed the Saxon out of the pub, while they were all still singing Wrecking Ball, and Roy reversed out of someone’s front garden, Marcy and Frank bickered and swapped seats, with Frank letting rip with a stinky fart, which, of course, set Marcy off even more. But she did drive the bus, or rather, she bounced and lurched, and grinded gears, and somehow, we got going.

Honestly. I thought that night we got drunk in the garden centre was bad, but this was way worse. We hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and we’d been running and fighting, and swimming, and all sorts, and those beers went down very quickly. We’d had a lot of them too.

I know this doesn’t reflect us in the best light, but it is important to record things accurately, and in hindsight, perhaps we should have waited until we’d sobered.

Would that have changed what happened later?

Would we all have survived if we’d waited longer?

But then, we were dealing with something nobody had ever dealt with before and doing our best against insufferable odds. Look at what happened in Hindhead, and we were still, once again moving towards the bad thing.

Who else was doing that?

And in the event of anyone reading these diary entries from somewhere safe, they (you) need to know that they (you) only have that safety because of what we did.

Remember that.

Some of us didn’t hide when the world went to shit.

We fought back and did what we could.

That said, it was only a short run from the school to the fort once Tappy got out of the flood zones, and even though the infection did burn the alcohol out of our systems far faster than before, we had still drunk a bloody lot of beer, so we weren’t entirely sober.

‘We’re here!’ Marcy called from the front.

‘Don’t let them fuck us around,’ Howie said and pulled the lever to open the bus door as we neared the container wall. It was night by then and fully dark, and the rain was still coming down. ‘Blowers! Don’t let them fuck us around!’ he shouted again.

‘Eh?’ I heard Blowers shout from the Saxon, which was in front of Roy’s van.

‘I said don’t let them fuck us around!’

‘Eh?’

‘He said don’t let them fuck us around!’ Roy yelled from his window.

‘Who?’ Blowers yelled.

‘Who?’ Roy shouted.

‘The guards on the wall! We need to get in,’ Howie shouted.

‘The guards!’ Roy yelled forward.

‘Eh?’ I heard Blowers call.

‘The fucking fuckers on the fucking wall!’ Howie yelled. ‘Jesus Christ, where the pissing hell are our radios?’

‘In a melted clump at Gatwick,’ I told him as we reached the wall, with the Saxon and the Royal Mail van coming to a stop, and Marcy braking too hard and making us all jolt forward.

‘Not a fucking word,’ she told us as Howie picked himself up and got out. I went after him, with the others all bundling out behind me, and I could see Blowers dropping out the back of the Saxon.

‘What did you say?’ he called, then motioned for us to hang on a sec, and turned to yell at Tappy. ‘Don’t let them fuck us around, Tap! We need to get in!’

‘That’s what I was saying,’ Howie said. ‘We need to get inside!’ he yelled at the wall and the sentry on the top. ‘And don’t even start being fuckers!’

‘Don’t be fuckers!’ Blowers shouted.

‘Stop being fucking fuckers!’ Cookey then shouted. Because he was out of the Saxon then too. I think we were all out.

‘You fuckers!’ Nick yelled.

‘We need to get inside!’ Howie yelled.

‘Stop being cunts!’ Blowers shouted.

‘You fucking cunts!’ Nick yelled.

‘Let us in!’ Tappy yelled.

‘I came in like a wrecking ball!’ Johnny sang.

‘Are they proper being fuckers?’ Tam asked.

‘They’re proper being fuckers,’ Cookey said.

‘Fuckers!’ Tam yelled.

‘We didn’t even say a word!’ a woman’s voice shouted down. ‘Whatya getting all twatty for?’

‘Just open the fucking gates!’ Howie shouted, obviously not having registered the nice tone of the woman.

‘Stop fucking around!’ Blowers shouted.

‘You fuckers!’ Nick yelled.

‘We need to get in!’ Tappy yelled from the driver’s door.

‘Let us in, bellends!’ Cookey was shouting at the same time, as was pretty much all of them.

‘Jaysus! Will ye fecking take a chill pill out there,’ the female guard shouted.

‘Right! I am not having this,’ Henry said in his serious in-charge voice. ‘Open those gates!’

‘We fecking are!’

‘Don’t you swear at our Major, you fucking cunts!’ Nick yelled, and everyone else yelled while not noticing the truck blocking the opening was already pulled back, so we could get through.

‘We fought for this fort!’ Blowers shouted.

‘You fuckers!’ Nick yelled.

‘They’re actually being proper fuckers,’ Tam said.

‘Fuckers,’ Ali said, and then she told Johnny to stop singing.

‘Open the fucking gates! Or do you want a hundred thousand hundred tens and dozens of many zombies!’ Cookey shouted.

‘IT’S BLOODY OPEN!’

‘OPEN UP!’ Clarence then roared, having decided to join in.

‘Right! Ye daft twats,’ the woman said and disappeared, and then reappeared at ground level, marching out of the opening straight past Tappy and Cookey, and Nick, and all the others going quiet and straight up to Howie and Clarence. All five feet nothing of her, wearing a waterproof smock from a music festival ‘It’s bloody open!’ she said and pointed at it. ‘We have a spotter up the bloody road, so we do. They radioed down, and we opened it.’

‘Right. Well,’ Howie said while trying to save face as the woman blinked up at him.

‘Are ye bloody drunk right now, Mister Howie?’

‘Um. So. Not actually drunk drunk. And we only had a half.’

‘Swift half,’ Clarence mumbled as he loomed over the young woman, who folded her arms and gave him a look. ‘Miss,’ he added politely.

‘And it was endex,’ Roy said. ‘Miss,’ he added on getting the same look.

‘After Hindhead,’ Howie said. ‘Miss.’

‘Hindhead?’ she asked.

‘Tunnels,’ Howie said and motioned things falling down with his hands. ‘And we swam, and Dave saw the old woman, and we had a fight with the big lady.’

‘Big bertha lady,’ Blowers said.

‘Big bertha lady,’ Howie added.

‘She was really big,’ Cookey said.

‘Dave blew her up with a grenade,’ Tappy said.

‘Johnny couldn’t even judo throw her,’ Bibi said.

‘Cos Dave always keeps one for emergencies,’ Howie told the young woman. ‘Even though he pretends he doesn’t,’ he added in a whisper as he leant forward while the woman blinked at his beer breath.

‘Right,’ she said, ‘and the hollerin’ and the shoutin’ is for what, exactly?’

‘So we can get in, obviously,’ Howie said. ‘Although, in fairness.’

‘In fairness,’ everyone else chorused as Howie hiccuped.

‘In fairness, er… Oh god, so why did we come back again?’ he asked and looked at me. ‘Oh! Winchester!’ he said with a grin and nodded as though that was all now perfectly explained.

‘Winchester?’ the woman asked.

‘Yeah. Winchester,’ Howie said. ‘Where all the zombies are.’

‘Right. Well, ye’d best go in then, but stop with the hollerin’.’

‘Yes, Miss, and sorry, Miss,’ Howie said.

‘Sorry, Miss,’ Clarence said as the others all added their apologies to the small woman.

‘No harm, no foul, ye daft buggers. Mary gave fresh orders when she took over and said no more dramas with you all.’

‘Mary did the what the what now?’ Howie asked.

‘Mary. When she killed Tyson and Willie, and Patrick, and Elvis and took charge. She said no more issues with Mister Howie and his lot, and we’ve a lot of girls doing guard duty now, so we do, and we’ll not carry the grudges on. We’re not best of friends, mind. There’s a lot of water under that bridge, but we’ll be civil, and we expect that in return.’

‘Right,’ Howie said and rubbed his face. ‘I’m more drunk than I thought. Did you say Mary killed her own brother?’

‘Aye. She did. For planning the attack here.’

‘What attack?’

‘When the zombies got over the wall! But we fought ’em off, and Lilly shoved her own grenade in a mouth and blew them all to hell. Mind though, that was before she went drunk driving with Mary after the sex party with the butt plugs and what-not and crashed into that container right there while in the nuddy, mind, and pretty much brained the pair of them. Wait till ye see their faces. All bruised up, they are. So she’s in a bit of disgrace. Lilly, I mean. And Mary.’

Howie just nodded. I think we all did.

‘Right. Well, it’s good to see you alive,’ the young woman said. ‘We heard about Gatwick, and we’re sorry about Joanie. She was a good woman. You’d best go on through.’

We got back into our vehicles and drove through while somewhere between the drunk and hungover stages while also very confused about sex toys and car crashes, and naked drink driving.

‘Did she say butt plug, or did I imagine that?’ Marcy asked as we once more drove along the road on the bay. The camp ahead on the left. The inky black waters on the right, and the fort out to sea. The looming walls big and dark, but the lights shining on the top made it look majestic and like something from a fantasy movie.

‘I would strongly suggest,’ Reginald said before we arrived, ‘that we do not delve into fort politics and instead keep our eye on the mission.’

‘Reginald’s right. George will have it in hand,’ Henry said as we stopped next to the beach and bundled back out into the rain.

‘She’s over there,’ Roy said, and we all looked to see Lilly and Mary soaked to the bone in thin sports clothes standing sentry off in the shadows. Which was odd because the beach had plenty of structures for them to shelter in, but they were standing in the pouring rain and looking miserable. Then we saw George and Kyle rushing from a boat, with George veering off to speak to Lilly and Mary quickly.

‘It’s good to see you safe and well!’ Kyle said and clasped Blowers’ hand, then Cookey and Nick. A quick hug to Charlie and Tappy, and he patted the shoulders of the newcomers and Tilda as he swept through. ‘Gatwick! What a bang that was. We saw it from here, we did. From this very spot. Frightened the bejesus out of everyone! Ach, and Joanie. What a terrible loss,’ he said with genuine pain showing on his craggy features. ‘But Tilly on the gate; did ye meet Tilly? What a cracker she is! She said you’re in a rush on a mission and also that you’ve been drinking, which I can bloody smell now.’

‘Swift half after endex,’ Clarence said.

‘Aye, well. We all need a swift half after endex,’ Kyle said.

‘Only it turns out it wasn’t endex,’ Henry said.

‘Aye. Well, come over into the big meet-and-greet tent, will ye. Nick, will ye give that genny a kick to get her going, so we can get some lights on and maybe some water boiling to get coffee down your necks. George! We’re in the big tent!’

‘I can see that, Kyle!’ George shouted over in a cheery tone and said something else to Lilly and Mary. I saw them nod with their heads down; then all three came over as we got into the tent, with Nick booting a genny up to get power into the lights.

‘The state of ye!’ Kyle then exclaimed at seeing us properly. ‘What the devil happened, Henry?’

‘Rescue mission. Hindhead tunnels. They collapsed; then we had sustained contacts on the exfil, during which we experienced a landslide.’

‘And ye stopped for a swift half in the middle of all that, did ye?’

‘Shut up. Mogadishu,’ Frank said as I and a few others groaned.

‘Will ye let it go, Frank,’ Kyle said. ‘And I need to tell ye what happened before you see Lilly and Mary.’

‘What the shit!’ Howie then said as George, Lilly, and Mary came into the big canvas tent.

The bloody sight of them! Good god. Lilly and Mary were drenched. It looked like they’d been out in the rain all day. But it was their faces that caught us all out. They both looked like they’d been beaten black and blue. Both had black eyes, and Mary’s nose had been broken and reset, and Lilly’s face was a patchwork of colours. It was strange though because it made her look older.

‘Some sex party that was,’ Marcy muttered to more than a few snorts.

‘Ah. Yes. You heard,’ George said with an awkward grimace. ‘Suffice to say. Young people make mistakes. As we all do,’ he said with more than a touch of a patronising air. ‘But we’ve debriefed the incident and taken what suitable learning points we can, and now we’ve moved on, or rather, we will once they’ve finished their punishment duties. Isn’t that right, girls?’

I didn’t like way my uncle George said girls. It was offensive, and I almost flinched in preparation for Mary detonating, and I knew Lilly wouldn’t stand for it.

And yet.

And yet.

And yet neither said a bloody world. They just stood there with their heads down, avoiding eye contact. They looked crestfallen. Like the wind had been knocked out of them completely. But it made sense now why they’d been put out in the rain to patrol the shore.

There was something about it all I didn’t like, though. I wanted details because I was struggling to imagine Lilly and Mary stripping off and drink driving. Lilly hates not being in control. I was about to ask more questions, but Henry jumped in.

‘Right! The fort’s inner politics are not for us,’ he said with a clear message to everyone.

‘Of course. What’s the to-do then?’ George asked.

‘Very briefly. As I just said to Kyle,’ Henry said, ‘we undertook a rescue mission to Hindhead tunnels to warn survivors of floods heading their way. Sadly, the floods hit at the same time. We got a few out, then navigated a landslide, and had sustained contacts until we could safely exfil. But during that, we observed multiple lines of infected moving in a westerly direction. Once back at Christ’s School with Tilda and back with our own kit, we deployed the drone to undertake aerial reconnaissance. As a result of which, we have observed a very large horde gathering in Winchester.’

‘Winchester,’ George said with a nod. ‘Understood. How many?’

‘Hard to tell. But our estimates put the horde at around one hundred thousand.’

‘One hundred thousand?’ Kyle asked with his eyes going wide. I saw Lilly and Mary look up sharply too.

‘Noted,’ George said calmly. ‘Are they moving?’

‘Negative. They appear to be focussed or perhaps gathering in Winchester,’ Henry said with a glance to Howie and Reginald.

‘No way of knowing,’ Howie said as I started to get a dull headache. Which was very weird as I hadn’t suffered a headache since the outbreak started. Injuries, yes. Plenty of them. And dehydration. Burns. Bites. Cuts. Bruises. Pretty much everything else you can think of but not a headache. I didn’t even get one that night we got drunk in the garden centre, but then we’d slept straight after getting drunk, whereas now we’d drunk lots of beers and come straight here. And from the hangdog looks on some of the others, I wasn’t the only one feeling like shit.

‘Why they are there isn’t important,’ Reginald said. ‘What we do, however, is important.’

‘That being what?’ George asked sharply. His tone made Henry blink at him. I heard it too. I hadn’t heard George speak like that before. The dynamics were different.

‘Well. If they head south,’ Henry said and held his hands open to represent the space around him.

‘Indeed. Yes,’ George said. ‘One hundred thousand does pose an existential threat to this fort. Understood.’

‘But likewise, we don’t currently have the means to deal with them,’ Henry said. ‘What are your stocks of munitions like?’

‘Below sufficient,’ George replied to grim looks from the rest of us. ‘We had a contact of our own. Repelled, of course. But that took rounds to deal with, and we’ve had ongoing training. We’re being very careful, but one must fire a weapon to know how to fire a weapon.’

‘Of course,’ Henry said with a nod as though such a thing would never be in question.

‘In which case. We do have an alternative. Er, shall we say, potential munitions source.’

‘Go on,’ George said.

‘You remember Krakov?’ Henry asked.

‘Of course,’ George said and shot a look to Dave.

‘Aye. I know Krakov,’ Kyle said with his head tilting back as though he was grasping the unspoken intent as even he looked at Dave. ‘Are ye thinking the old way, Henry?’

‘We’ve done it a hundred times before,’ Henry said.

‘What does that mean exactly?’ Howie asked.

‘We’ve discussed it many times, Howie,’ Henry replied.

‘It means – we put Dave inside to work through the property interior,’ Carmen said, and she earned a look from both George and Henry for speaking out, but like I said, the dynamics between us were ever-changing. ‘The other operatives – that being me, Frank, and Henry, and Kyle (if we can borrow him), and for this, I’d say we definitely need to borrow him – we then provide immediate external cover while all of you,’ she said with a nod at Howie and the others, ‘provide perimeter support.’

‘And what exactly does Dave do inside?’ Howie asked.

‘Again, Howie? Really?’ Henry said.

‘He kills everyone, boss,’ Carmen said, which was weird because she called Howie boss in front of Henry.

‘Women? Children?’ Howie asked.

Carmen nodded. ‘If they are armed or if Dave perceives them as posing threat.’

Howie looked at Dave, then back to Carmen. ‘Has Dave killed children before?’

‘Howie,’ Henry said.

‘We’re not angels, nipper. We do dirty work,’ Frank said.

‘Yes,’ Carmen said to Howie. ‘He has. We all have.’

‘Aye,’ Kyle said quietly.

‘But not young children, Howie,’ Henry added. ‘We’re not monsters. If an older child aims a weapon or grabs the trigger for an IED? Then yes, we have to negate that threat.’

Howie looked at Dave. We all did. I think we were looking for some sign in Dave that he wasn’t comfortable with it, in the same way that Carmen, Frank, and Kyle had conveyed regret. But Dave didn’t. He was as devoid as ever and had stopped giving Clarence the stink eye too.

‘You’d do that, Dave?’

‘Do what, Mr Howie?’ Dave asked and looked directly at him.

‘We don’t have a choice, Howie,’ Henry said.

‘Well. We do,’ Howie said.

‘Howie. We’ve discussed this! We do not have the means to tackle a horde that size unless we get more ammunition and weapons.’

‘Well. We do,’ Howie said again as I could see the frustration showing in Henry. ‘Paula? Did you have limitless bullets and guns in that town you took out?’ Howie asked me.

‘I had two guns and about four magazines.’

‘You still did it, though. She still did it,’ Howie said to Henry.

‘One hundred thousand, Howie!’

‘I know, Henry! I fucking saw them the same as you.’

I thought Henry might bridle at Howie swearing at him, but he didn’t. I guess they were past that now and could argue without petty offence being taken to score points.

‘My point is, Henry, it’s the easy solution to kill. Send Dave in. Kill some people. Get guns. Easy.’

‘What point is that?’ Henry asked.

‘Every bloody point! That’s what the old world did, Henry.’

‘Fucking hell, Howie! Really? Fucking, really? Are we really going back over this?’ Henry asked, and it was quite cool hearing him swear. We were rubbing off on him. Although he still sounded very posh and suave when he did it.

‘May I?’ Carmen asked and held her hands up to both of them as though to show neutrality. ‘I actually agree with Howie. Hang on, Henry. I agree with Howie that we should think more, and if there was an alternative solution, then we should do it. Yes? Kyle?’

‘Aye. Definitely.

‘Paula?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Why aren’t you asking me?’ Frank asked.

‘Because I know what you’d say,’ Carmen said.

‘Ah. Gotcha. Forming an echo-chamber, are we?’

‘Fuck’s sake. Okay, fine. Frank?’

‘Fuck Krakov and every fucker with him,’ Frank said angrily. ‘He’s a murderer and a trafficker, and he sells weapons to terrorists. I’ll go in if Howie won’t deploy Dave.’

‘That’s not the question, Frank,’ Carmen snapped.

‘Fuck the question, Carmen!’ Frank snapped back. I’d never seen him like that before. It was quite frightening, knowing how bloody capable he is. ‘We are all trained soldiers, not fucking climate activists, sitting in a bus lane in Wandsworth. We don’t need this conversation. Our enemy is massing. If they move out, we lose our chance to try and divert them. Stop fucking talking and grip it!’

‘That was my point,’ Carmen said through gritted teeth as Frank looked ready to kick off. ‘Don’t look at me like that, McGill. My point was to Howie that, yes, we should always question the methodology, but right now, we don’t have that luxury. We must strike now, Howie. We can spend time coming up with solutions, like Paula did in her town. But one hundred thousand, Howie! That’s too many. Krakov might have some mines or RPGs, or some C4. Any of which we can use to lessen the need to fight them head on. I get it. I get your caution, and I’m all in with you, but Henry’s right.’

It was the right thing said at the right time, and it made me respect Carmen a lot. I even reached my hand out to bump her leg as she was standing at my side to show I supported her.

‘She’s right, nips,’ Frank said, and for once, without trace of sarcasm or a quip.

‘For what’s it worth, Howie,’ Kyle said, ‘sometimes you have to think of the bigger picture.’

‘Okay,’ Howie said, and he looked at Lilly as though seeking her view.

She started to nod as though she agreed, but then I saw like a shadow of fear on her face, and she looked at George. ‘Whatever the leaders think is best,’ she said quietly.

‘Aye,’ Mary murmured.

‘Right. Good,’ Henry said, and he moved closer to pat Howie’s shoulder to show there was no spite. Which, again, showed how close they’d become.

‘We’ve got some good assets here you can use,’ George said. ‘Might be good to have some combat experience on the line.’

‘Should we not retain them for our own defence?’ Lilly asked as George shot her a look, and she did that thing again and backed up. ‘Sorry, Captain. I was, er…’

‘No. Quite alright. Good to speak up, Lilly,’ George said. ‘And yes. Lilly is right, however, seeing the threat against us, I suggest our soldiers go with Henry, and I remain here on defence. Lilly and Mary will also deploy. The experience will be good for them.’

The atmosphere was hard by then, and I glanced at the lads to see them looking less than happy at the prospect of Lilly and Mary coming with us. I also didn’t think Lilly would go for it, but she just nodded. Mary did too. It made me think them getting drunk and crashing a car had clearly brought them down a peg or three. Especially if they were naked or trying to have sex in a moving car. They both looked a sorry state, especially Lilly, and to be honest, I didn’t really like seeing them like it. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good for them. They had a lot of power, and they were young, so perhaps someone like George being able to take over wasn’t a bad thing.

George then made a radio call for the other ex-soldiers to come over while the lads got camping stoves going to boil water for a quick brew.

‘What’s the plan post Krakov?’ George then asked.

‘We go around and come at them from the north, and draw them away from coming south,’ Henry said.

George nodded as though mulling it over. ‘And you’re confident to do that, Henry?’

‘Confident?’

‘With the greatest of respect, you’re not a war planner, Henry. We were agents in the secret service.’

‘I know what we were, George, but we didn’t always do that. We’ve served in many wars.’

‘Yes. We’ve served and undertook missions within the war. We didn’t plan the war, Henry.’

‘Sorry, George. You’ve lost me. What is your point.’

‘I am merely referencing the need for caution, Henry, because while you were very obviously skilled in your former role, do you have the skills necessary to plan such a campaign?’

Henry looked stunned. I could see why. George was openly questioning him. He was charming and as polite as ever, but he was still doing it.

‘Do you think you could do better, George?’ Henry asked and gave him a studied look.

‘Well. That’s not for me to say, but I would suggest I was certainly more active on the ground, leading sustained campaigns.’

‘You coming with us then, Georgey?’ Frank cut in.

George smiled at that and shook his head. ‘As much as I wished I could, sadly, I am committed here. But do be cautious, Henry.’

‘Cautious over what, George?’

I didn’t hear the rest as Tappy got my attention. ‘She really coming with us?’ Tappy asked. I looked around for Lilly and Mary but couldn’t see them.

‘There’s obviously some issues here,’ I said quietly. ‘Lilly had complete control, but now George is here, so she’s obviously reacting.’

‘Why do we have to get stuck with her?’ Cookey asked.

‘What’s so bad about her?’ Ali asked.

‘Tell you later,’ Tappy said. ‘But she’s queen fucking bitch and right up her own arse. Mary’s not as arrogant, but she kicks off literally all the time.’

I told the lads I’d keep them in check and figured I’d have to keep Lilly and Mary with me, which I wasn’t looking forward to either.

But then, once more, we just didn’t have time to deal with it properly. Things were whipping along, and by then, the brews were being handed out, which we were all thankful for, and the soldiers from the fort were arriving. I didn’t know how I felt about that either when George suggested it, but as soon as they arrived, I liked them. Jock, Jack, and Kate. I remembered Kate from Southwater, one of our battles just before Gatwick. She’d been the last soldier standing and fighting to protect civilians, so we knew she was good. Jock was a Scottish soldier, and Jack was a Para like Clarence and Frank, and Henry.

‘Kate Jones, ma’am.’ the woman soldier said and shook my hand. ‘Jonesy,’ she added. ‘They said you’re the XO. That’s Jock, Black Watch Scots Guard. Jackie boy was Two Para. I did a bit of everything. Infantry. Military police.’

‘Captain Jansu?’ Kyle asked them.

‘Hanging back on fort defence,’ Kate Jonesy said.

I heard they had three Ghurkhas in the fort, who apparently are renowned for being very formidable soldiers. But George was holding them back. Which again showed how him being in charge was the right decision. Lilly wouldn’t know the difference between regiments or who to hold back.

I wanted to speak to Lilly and kept looking around for her, but she’d disappeared. I thought that was odd because she was meant to be coming with us.

‘Okay! Gather in. Hot brief,’ Henry then called a moment later, and I saw Lilly and Mary rushing over from the camp. Both now changed out of their wet sports clothes and in black combats like the rest of us.

We shared eye contact, but Lilly looked away and made a point of keeping distance between us. I shrugged it off and thought, Stuff her then. Uptight cow.

Besides.

It was about to get busy again.

4

My name is Lilly Annabel Croft.

I was named after my mother, Annabel Lilly Croft.

I am sixteen years old, and before the outbreak, I was a student.

‘What the bloody hell are you saying that for?’ Mary whispers in the back of the armoured bus.

‘Because it needs to be an accurate written record.’

‘And is your middle name Annabel? I did not know that. And Croft? That explains a lot.’

‘What does? Whatever. We don’t have time for this.’

‘Right. And thanks for asking what my middle and last names are.’

‘I was just about to for the record. What are they?’

‘I actually have five middle names. Do ye want them all? It’s Mary Charlotte Chesney Patricia John Scarlet Scott.’

‘One of your middle names is John?’

‘Just write it in the record thing. Actually, just put Mary Scott.’

‘I’ll put Mary Scott.’

And I am with Mary Scott, who is from the traveller’s camp and is eighteen years old.

‘I’m nineteen.’

‘Are you? I thought you were eighteen. Fine. I’ve changed it.’

‘And can ye put I’m the leader of the camp.’

‘I thought Eggy was taking over now. You know. Since the thing.’

‘The big fecking stitch up, ye mean!’

‘Shush! Yes. That.’

‘They haven’t had a vote yet, so I’m still technically the leader. Whatever. This is shite.’

‘I know,’ Lilly says with a blast of air. ‘Do you want more bad news? Captain Jansu is one of them. And his sons.’

‘How do ye know that?’

‘Because George is holding them back.’

‘Or he might be sending Jonesy, Jock, and Jack out to keep an eye on us. They might be in on it too. And did you see the new folk with Mr Howie? That Tilda and the young squaddies? How do we know they’re not part of it? We can’t trust anyone, Blondie. Anyway, get it written up quickly.’

I am not diarist, and this is not a diary. Mary, and I know that Paula has instructed members of her team to keep written records, so that people can later know what happened.

That is the reason for this record. So that the truth can be recorded.

‘You don’t need a comma after Mary.’

‘Stop watching over my shoulder.’

‘Do ye want me to write it in proper English. I can’t stand bad grammar.’

‘I never took you for a grammar Nazi, Mary.’

‘If a thing is worth doing, then it should be done right.’

‘Just shush and let me write it.’

The planet or rather the lives of all species upon the planet are at a great turning point and what happens now will influence all things. Especially the human species.

My personal view is the human species has already lost. It cannot withstand the changes occurring. To think otherwise is stupid.

Reginald’s work in driving his team and the work of Mr Howie and the others and indeed, the, work, I have undertaken to secure the fort, is not for the benefit, of the human species, but for the people with immunity.

However, that is a lie.

Those people do not have immunity.

‘You’re writing too much, Blondie. It’s not Harry Potter and the gobshite of fannies! Ye don’t need all that.’

‘How will people know what was happening then?’

‘Because they’ll have Paula’s and Charlie’s, and all of their accounts. Just put what happened to us. Give it here. Let me do it. And your bloody commas are all over the place.’

This is Mary Scott. I’m infected. Lilly is infected. We know that because we’ve been bitten plenty of times and not turned into the zombies.

Lilly and I have been stitched up by that smarmy piece of shit fucking fucker cunty cunt George.

‘Should we be swearing in it?’ Lilly asks.

‘You said to be accurate.’

Lilly and I knew something fishy was going on in the fort. That attack we had was arranged by Willie, and Elvis, and Tyson, and Patrick, AND that cunt George. They set it up, so George could look good, and everyone would think he was the bee’s knees. But he fucked up because Lilly is like ten times smarter than he is. Probably more than that. She’s like the smartest person I know, and I’ve met some very smart people. Lilly figured it all out, and we caught Pamela in the boatyard restaurant and made her show us the secret tunnels under the fort. But that was a trap because Pamela told us who organised the attack, and I then killed them all. Including my brother. And I took charge in the camp. I’m the first woman to ever do that with our camp. But then that cunt George fucked that up too because Lilly didn’t stop being smart, and we went exploring in the tunnels and found Pamela in a hidey-hole room. But she wasn’t Pamela. No. She was Pamela. But she wasn’t all slow and thick as shite. She beat the crap out of Lilly and I and broke my nose, and knocked us about like we nothing at all, and I can shoot straighter and hit harder than any man. Then that cunt George came in and said he was going to finger our arses, and sprayed some poison in our faces, and knocked us out.

‘He didn’t say that, Mary. We need to be accurate.’

Correction. George said we won’t know what they’ll do when we were knocked out. Oh! Hang on. We left a bit out. George killed some wee kiddies. One in the fort and one in the camp. They’ve got like a nerve agent spray thing, and he made it look like the kiddies ate rat poison, but he killed them, so if we cottoned onto him, which we did obviously, then he’d have some leverage. That’s what he said after Pamela knocked us about. George said he’d kill all the kiddies if we didn’t do what he said. He said we were his dogs now, and we had to come to heel. He sprayed something, and Lilly and I got knocked out. We woke up naked, and George had made us drink vodka and then put us into a car, and made it drive into a wall. He put butt plugs and dildos in the car, so when we got found, it would look like we were drink driving and having sex.

George saw us in the hospital and said if we ever talked about it, he’d kill Billy and all the children. He made us look stupid in front of everyone. Lilly said that was to humiliate and degrade us, so when we got killed, people didn’t rise up or anything. Because they’d think we were already twats.

George put us on sentry duty in the rain all day in front of everyone. We couldn’t say no because he would kill another child. We can’t kill George because we don’t know where Pamela is or who else they have on their team.

Howie came to the bay just after nightfall.

Tilly on the gate, who is my cousin, told George on the radio, so by the time Howie was at the beach, George was already with Lilly and me. So we didn’t have time to speak to him. George told us again he would kill every child in the fort and the camp. He said, “We don’t need the children. I will kill them all in a heartbeat.”

Those were his words. George is an evil cunt.

We had to go into the briefing, and Henry said there are 100k infected at Winchester. But they don’t have enough rounds to shoot them with. The fort doesn’t have much left either. They said they’re going to attack a Russian guy called Krakoff or Krakov, who is an arms dealer and has guns and rounds. Howie didn’t like that plan, and they argued because Henry wants to send Dave into the arms dealer’s house and kill everyone. In the end, Henry got his way.

George then said Lilly and I were going with them for experience. When the briefing ended, George took us outside and said we were his spies, and we had to watch everything Henry and Howie did and report it back. He said he had other spies in that team, so he would know if we were lying. He said this was a test to know if we could be trusted.

I didn’t think any of Howie’s team would be spies, but he has new people with him. Four young ones and one older woman called Tilda Tanners.

The soldiers from the fort also wanted to go, but George said they were to stay back and defend the fort. They weren’t happy with that at all, and I could see it was bothering Henry too.

‘We need them, George,’ Henry said, and he looked all surprised that he was having to ask.

‘And so do we,’ George said, and he must have thought that was that, but Jonesy said no way she was holding back.

‘That lot dug me out the shit, and I owe them,’ she told George. He tried to protest, but she was having none of it.

I didn’t trust it, though. It could all be a ruse for all I know, so that Lilly and I think Jonesy isn’t part of his secret, arse-fingering club of cunts. Lilly just told me off for saying that, but they are cunts, and we don’t know that George didn’t finger our arses while we were knocked out. I’m still going to snap his fingers off one by one anyway.

Lilly told me to get back to the point. Which is odd because I took over because she was waffling, but it’s quite cool writing things down. I might keep a diary from now on.

After George told us that, we ran back to my caravan to get changed. Lilly saw one of Bobby’s crew and sent for him. Bobby was there in two minutes flat. He was upset. Bobby doesn’t like George. He wants Lilly in charge, so he can trade and make deals. Bobby and Lilly have an understanding. Lilly asked Bobby for a tablet or something password protected that we could write a record in. Bobby had a lot of them. That’s what we are using now. Lilly even told Bobby the password when she set it. She said if anything happens to us, then everything is written in the tablet, so Bobby would know the truth. We can’t trust anyone else. Even trusting Bobby is a risk, but I trust him. Bobby even said he’d watch the kiddies and do what he could, and he said when the times comes, he’ll stand for Lilly and me.

Now we’re in the back of the weird Mad Max bus thing. Kyle and Kate Jonesy are up front. Lilly and I are at the back, writing all this down. We’re going to that Krakoff place to get his guns and ammunition.

Frank gave a briefing in the tent about it. Henry said Frank is the MOE specialist, which stands for Method of Entry.

Frank drew the shape of a house on a whiteboard. A big, posh mansion house with one middle bit and two big wings. He said he’d recce’d it before, and it was from memory, and it might be wrong.

He said Krakoff will keep some weapons somewhere. He said UK gun laws were tight, so Krakoff wouldn’t have kept a big supply here because we’re an island nation, and it’s harder to get it in and out, but anything we can take will help us.

Frank said the house has a great big wall all around it, and it’s in a forest on its own. He said we’ll debus (which means get out of the vehicles) somewhere and then walk in, so we can be sneaky. Then we get into position. That’s Mr Howie and his team, and Lilly, and me, and our soldiers while the agents (that’s Frank, Carmen, Henry, and Kyle, and Bash too because he’s got Special Forces training) all go forward inside the compound to provide support to Dave, who will get inside the house and start working through.

If any support arrives from anywhere else or any Krakoff people get out of the compound, then we deal with them on the perimeter.

Frank said the perimeter units (us) are not to go inside the compound unless called for because we’d probably just get in the way and get shot by our own side.

‘Is that it?’ Mary asks with a look to Lilly.

‘I think so. That’s really good, though.’

‘Thanks. I was always good at English. Ach, but this is shite, Blondie. What are we going to do?’

‘We can’t do anything.’

‘You’re the smart one. Think of something.’

‘Like what? Taking George out won’t do anything. We don’t know where Pamela is or who else he’s got.’

‘So we’re doing it then? We’re spying for George? Henry will fecking shoot us when he finds out.’

‘What choice do we have?’

‘You two okay back there?’ Kyle calls from the middle section of the bus with the others.

‘Fine,’ Lilly calls. ‘We’re all good,’ she adds quietly with another look shared.

‘Here,’ Kate Jonesy says, moving to the back to motion them both to lean forward, so she can use a stick of black camouflage paint to apply thick lines across their faces. ‘You’re both fair like me. This diffuses the glare if any lights come on.’

The same already on hers. The same on Kyle.

‘Silence when we debus, okay?’ Kate Jonesy says quietly. ‘Stick with me. You’ll both be fine.’

‘You’ve done this before then?’ Mary asks.

‘Lots of times. I was CP trained in the military police. Close protection. I’ve done all sorts. I know what you both can do to the infected, but a firefight is different. It’s very dynamic, and when it’s so dark and raining like this, it’s easy to shoot at your own side.

‘We’ll stick with you, Kate,’ Lilly says.

‘Jonesy. I hate being called Kate.’

‘Final approach,’ Kyle calls back as the vehicle lights are killed and the speed slows for the last few hundred metres along an unmade road until they come to a stop.

Everyone inside the vehicles feeling the thrum of it.

The spike of tension and fear, and nerves.

The rain still lashing down.

The night as dark as they’ve ever seen.

Kyle exhales and tuts gently. Thinking he’d left this world behind a long time ago. A final check to his sidearms. A final check to his submachine gun.

The doors in the Saxon and the Royal Mail van ahead open, and he tugs his balaclava down.

‘Silence from now,’ Kate Jonesy whispers.

And the assault on Krakov begins.

5

I feel bloody stupid. I’m not a soldier. I work for Tesco. What the actual fuck am I doing here? Sneaking around in the dark, waiting for Henry and his lot to tug balaclavas down and polish their guns. I share a look with Paula, who shrugs with an expression that seems to agree with how I’m feeling.

‘Do I look good?’ Marcy whispers at me, then shows me her face with a black stripe over her nose but still with the pink cheeks and eye make-up. ‘Hot, right?’

‘Ssssshhh,’ Henry whispers from nearby. Marcy flicks him the bird.

Not that Henry finds it amusing. He just stares for a second and pulls his balaclava down.

Then we’re off and moving along a muddy track filled with big puddles while getting drenched once more until someone in a balaclava (probably Frank) makes us all stop. Then they wave into the forest, and we go off the track through the trees. It’s near on pitch dark, so we can’t help but snag feet on roots and break twigs, which I always thought was a bad thing to do, but then I figure I’ve probably watched way too many movies with people snapping tiny twigs.

I still feel stupid, though. Walking bent over with some black camo paint on my face, carrying my assault rifle, and not killing zombies. Even Reginald has a black stripe on his face. Which, I did note, was done by Carmen, who said, and I quote, ‘Oh my god, you look super cute.’ Reggie hasn’t got a gun, though. Someone would have been shot in the arse by now if he had a gun. Although he does have his battle swatter.

Lilly and Mary are with us. But a bit further along the line with Kate Jonesy. Tilda’s here with her four. Or rather, her four are with Blowers, and Tilda is close to the centre with us elders.

It doesn’t feel right, though.

I get what Henry said. I really do get it. We need whatever weapons we can get and ammunition.

That makes sense, and I keep agreeing with it but then getting all twitchy, and not agreeing to it, which is really pissing Henry off. And I’m not trying to do that this time; it’s just that he explains it, or Carmen does, or Clarence or whoever, and I’m like, Yeah, that makes sense; let’s go and do that. Then a bit later, I don’t want to do it. No matter how many times they explain it.

It's like when I used to listen to politicians. I’d be thinking, This dude has got it right. Then another one says something else, and I’d be like, Oh! Now this dude makes sense.

Either way. Back in the briefing tent when Carmen explained why we had to send Dave in, I was like, Yeah! Totally makes sense. Let’s do it. Wooohooo!

But now we are here, and it feels wrong. Only I don’t know why.

But then it’s too late to say anything, so I make myself shut up and go with it, and we sneak through the magical forest of mystery and secrets towards the big, bad baddie in his lair ahead.

I’ve also got a bit of a hangover.

Which isn’t helping matters.

And my clothes (those being the ones I put on this morning) have become soaked, then dried, then soaked, then dried many lots of times. Which has made them all crusty and stinky, and my mouth feels like a bear ate a hot curry and took a massive shit in it, and I want more coffee and a cigarette, and a lie down, and I want to go home to the garden centre and listen to Roy’s story, and eat marshmallows.

Except we can’t do that.

And we’re all wearing crusty, filthy clothes.

So we’ve just got to get on with it.

We walk forever, but then, it is a magical forest of mystery and secrets, and just as I’m about to start thinking we’re lost, we reach a big ditch with a low rising bank on the other side.

We stop this side of the ditch, with many hand signals going on, which, I am given to understand, mean we have to stay low and go through the ditch filled with muddy gloop and crocodiles.

Maybe not crocodiles.

I dunno.

Didn’t that South American drug dealer man have hippos?

So why wouldn’t a Russian arms dealer, trafficker, terrorist supplier have crocodiles in his moat?

Whatever.

We do as bid by the black-clad Ninjas and stay low, and crawl, and slither through the muddy ditch of depression, and although we don’t get eaten by crocodiles, I’m wishing I had been eaten by one because we all get covered in thick, brown mud.

Apart from Dave and the other Ninjas. Who obviously have some secret tactic to traversing muddy moats that we don’t know about.

Also, apart from Reginald, who outright refuses to crawl through it and sits down on the other side in his poncho while holding his battle swatter.

The rest of us belly crawl up the low-rise bank on the other side, where we all come to a stop because the big wall surrounding the big, bad baddie in his lair is right ahead.

That being a high, normal, red-brick wall topped with razor wire, which we can just about see because it’s in a clearing and not under the big, drippy trees that we’re all under.

I can even see a big set of metal gates and the road running in front of the wall with the little turn off to the gates. Actually, the gates do look rather big and sinister, and not the kind of gates one would expect to see in leafy Surrey. Or wherever the fuck we are.

I don’t actually know where we are.

Somewhere not that far from the fort as we didn’t drive for that long. Like forty minutes or an hour.

I sigh heavily and think the Ninjas will start their secret assault. But then I get nudged by Paula, who also didn’t get eaten by crocodiles, but who also looks like she wanted to get eaten by crocodiles, who nods further down the line to a silent kerfuffle going on between all the black-clad Ninjas. Most of whom seem to be giving each other complex hand signals.

Then the Ninjas start hopping over other people, and all come closer to the centre of our line and me and Paula, and Marcy all lying on our bellies on the shitty, cold, wet, muddy bank.

‘He won’t go until you order him,’ Henry whispers once he’s next to Paula. I look past her at him as he tugs his balaclava up. ‘Dave!’ he adds as though I should immediately understand.

‘Where is he?’ I mouth.

‘Here,’ Dave says to my immediate left, which makes me jump as I didn’t realise he’d sneaked into the gap between Marcy and me. But then he is a Ninja.

‘Howie needs to give him the green light,’ Henry whispers as I look past him to see Carmen and Frank, and Bash, and Kyle all tugging their balaclavas up and staring at me like I did this on purpose.

‘I didn’t do it!’ I whisper at them.

‘It’s fine. Just tell him to deploy,’ Carmen says. ‘You’re his CO now.’

‘I mean. I thought Dave accepted us both as joint COs,’ Henry whispers in a certain way.

‘Aw, you can share custody. Have him on weekends,’ Marcy whispers to more snorts, which cut off very quickly when Henry leans out to glare along the line to everyone else lying on their bellies on the cold, wet, muddy bank of misery.

‘Fine. Dave, just go and do it,’ I say.

‘Yes, Mr Howie,’ Dave says and starts forward as the Ninjas all start to do the same.

‘Wait!’ I whisper shout as Dave comes back, with the other Ninjas crawling back up and over.

‘What?!’ Henry asks.

‘How’s he going to get in?’ I ask.

‘Over the bloody wall!’

‘It’s topped with barbed wire.’

‘He’s Dave! He could crawl through a field of barbed wire and not get cut. Was that it? Did you call us back for that? Fuck me, Howie. We need to discuss this later. Right, move out,’ Henry says and darts off with the other Ninjas. Except Dave, who stays where he is, which makes them stop again a foot down the bank and crawl back.

‘What now?!’ Henry whispers.

‘Did Howie tell him to move out?’ Carmen whispers.

‘Howie, did you tell Dave to move out?’ Henry asks.

‘Not that time, no.’

Henry drops his face on the bank for a second, then lifts it with an effort showing on his face. ‘You need to give him the go signal again.’

‘Okay,’ I say as they all tug their balaclavas down. ‘So? Like, now then?’

‘I think now,’ Paula says.

‘Er, go, go, gadget time!’ I whisper at Dave, who just stares at me through the eye holes in his balaclava. ‘Er, go? Green light. Proceed. Attack!’

‘Yes, Mr Howie,’ he says in the way of meaning you’re a twat, and he starts forward again as that feeling rushes up inside. Stronger than ever before.

‘Wait!’ I whisper-shout as the Ninjas belly crawl back to this side of the cold, wet, muddy bank of happiness and glee.

‘What?’ Henry whisper-snaps at me.

‘I mean. You know,’ I say and motion the wall ahead. ‘Are you sure this is the only way?’

Henry drops his face into the mud again, probably to hide the litany of muttered cursing spewing forth. ‘Yes!’ he says through gritted teeth.

‘Howie, it’s getting bloody cold,’ Marcy whispers.

‘I know! Okay. Go.’

‘Don’t call us back,’ Henry orders.

‘I won’t… Fuck’s sake. Wait! Just hang on a sec.’

‘No!’ Henry snaps.

‘Boss!’ Carmen says.

‘Nips, grip this,’ Frank mouths, glaring daggers as I see Bash frowning at me and Kyle too. But Kyle looks quizzical instead of irritated. Then I look left to the others all doing the same. Not showing irritation despite some of them shivering in the cold while on their bellies on the muddy bank. I look ahead again to the wall. To the gates. That feeling inside. I can’t explain it.

I even open my mouth to give Dave the order, but within a split-second, there’s a mental block, and it won’t come out.

‘We will lose, Howie,’ Henry whispers. ‘One hundred thousand will wipe us out.’

He’s right.

I know he’s right.

And yet.

And yet.

‘And yet,’ I whisper and look right again to all of them staring, then left to the others doing the same. I spot Lilly. She looks different. Older. The soldiers with her. Experienced combat veterans.

‘Frank, you’ll have to go in. I’m not waiting any further,’ Henry whispers in a calm tone that tells me he’s really very angry.

‘Hold,’ I say firmly. Firmly enough to stop the line moving out, and I stare down at the gates, and in my head, I’ve got one foot in the old, bad world of murder and lies, and deceit and one foot in this Brave, New World.

But I don’t know what to do about that feeling. Henry said there is no other way. So did Carmen and Frank, and even Kyle.

We have to send Dave in.

It’s the only way.

We need weapons and ammunition.

I frown again as the water pours down over my face, and I glance back to see Reginald sitting on the other side of the bank with Meredith next to him, as though somehow she knows to hold back and guard him.

There it is again. That feeling inside. Stronger than before.

Henry and his lot off to my right. The old world and the old way of doing things.

Paula next to me. Clarence and Marcy, and Dave. Reginald behind with a dog that senses or knows enough to hold back. The new world.

The Brave, New World.

‘We do the right things for the right reasons,’ I whisper, and it becomes clear to me. Very clear. And I know what I have to do. I look at Paula. A woman who has been fighting back since day one the same as me. We didn’t hide. We didn’t cower. We fought back, and we did it on our own. ‘This doesn’t feel right,’ I whisper at her.

She stares back at me. ‘What does, then?’

‘Me and you,’ I whisper and dart my eyes to show what I mean.

She nods once. ‘I’ll back you.’

I blow air through my cheeks and figure it’ll either work or it won’t. Then I’m up and on my feet, standing in the rain on top of that muddy bank. Paula a split second behind me. We share a look and start down together, slipping and sliding in the mud, and holding each other’s arms to stay upright.

‘Howie!’ Henry whispers frantically. ‘Get down! That’s a bloody order!’

We reach the bottom and turn back to see Dave already right behind me. Forever and always right behind me. Motion at the top. I hear a muttered yelp and see Reginald scrambling over the top of the bank to rush after us. Him and the dog covered in gloopy, wet mud. He starts moving but slips, and scoots down on his backside, with Carmen lurching up to go after him. Then Clarence and Roy. Then Blowers and the lads. All of them on their feet and coming after us.

All of them ready to back us.

Whatever it is we are doing.

Henry looks furious. So does Frank.

Fuck Henry and Frank.

Fuck the old world and the old rules.

Carmen looks uncertain. Like she just shocked herself. Like she has one foot in both worlds, and only now can she see there is another path and another way.

I clock Bash and Maddox have stayed at the top with Henry. I guess Bash has picked his team. That’s fair enough. Lilly has stayed put too. But I don’t know what her dynamics are.

Reginald reaches us and tugs his poncho straight as though to compose himself, then nods at us both.

I look at Paula, and I know we’ve done the right thing because her eyes are full of defiance.

‘Sling your rifles,’ Reginald whispers.

We sling our rifles, and we three start forward.

Except it will never be just us three. Because where I go, Dave goes, and where Paula goes, so does Clarence. And if Reginald is with us, then Carmen is too, and Tappy gets FOMO way too much to ever hold back, so the whole lot sling their rifles, and we all go across the road together. And because they’ve moved out, Ali, Tam, Bibi, and Johnny have come with us while Tilda stays at the top, flapping her hands out to Henry in confusion.

And, of course, Meredith goes with us.

Or rather, Meredith goes first to sniff and have a piddle.

We all stop at the gates and stare at the intercom buzzer glowing with a faint light.

‘Press it,’ Paula whispers and nods at me.

‘What do I say? I don’t speak Russian. Does anyone speak Russian?’

‘I do,’ Carmen says. ‘But I’m sure they’ll speak English… Right before they gun us all down.’

‘You didn’t have to come!’ I tell her.

‘Duh,’ she says as though I should know what that means as Marcy gets bored and reaches past me to press the buzzer.

The one on the gate.

The one someone has painted pink.

A click comes through the speaker.

Someone breathing heavily.

‘Da?’ a deep voice. A hard voice.

‘That’s Russian, Mr Howie,’ Charlie whispers. ‘I think it means yes. Carmen? Does it mean yes?’

‘Yes. I mean yes – it means yes,’ Carmen says, then frowns at herself.

‘I know it means yes,’ I tell them.

‘Great. Then say something,’ Paula says.

‘Faffing about too much. I’ll say something,’ Marcy says and leans forward, but Paula pulls her back and nods at me.

I lean closer and get ready to speak.

Except I don’t need to.

Because we all hear a loud click followed by the hum of electric motors.

And the gates open.

6

Diary of Reginald

I must confess I was not expecting that at all, but perhaps it does serve as a reminder not to be complacent because Howie will not be pushed into doing anything he does not feel is right.

Which is what, either by accident or design, Henry had done.

Something in Howie just wouldn’t allow him to send Dave in. On reflection, I think it simply comes down to Howie refusing to ever make someone do something he would not do himself.

That, in turn, I think both shamed and infuriated Henry. Especially when Howie and Paula sprang up and went down that bank. Of course, I went after them. Right through that blasted, muddy ditch that I half expected to be full of crocodiles. Meredith had stayed back with me. I think she knew I was rather miserable in the rain and wanted to give me comfort. I was getting cold too, which I hadn’t experienced since the outbreak began.

I did note that Meredith bounded over the ditch, then stopped, and saw me floundering within it, and quickly ran back to jump in. No doubt thinking it seemed like jolly good fun. Which it wasn’t at all.

Then I slid down the bank on my bottom. Which was very ungainly, and which prompted my dear friend Carmen to once more rush after and check on me. I said I was okay and that my rump was just a bit sore. She offered to rub it better, but by then we were off across the road to the gates, and it was rather heart-warming to see the whole gang had decided to come with us. Or foolhardy (if we were then to get gunned down) as Carmen put it. Which I think was rather expected.

Then the gates opened all by themselves. Obviously being remotely operated, but even so, it was night and raining, and so it all rather felt somewhat like the opening to a cheap budget horror movie.

We all stared at them, of course, and then shuffled back because they opened outwards.

‘Shit gates. They put them on the wrong way,’ Cookey said.

‘They’re stronger if they open out,’ Nick then explained. ‘You can’t drive through them or smash them open.’

‘Oh,’ we all said because I don’t think any of us knew that.

Henry probably knew that, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss gates as he ran over the road with everyone else. Although I did note Lilly and Mary stayed at the back. Something wasn’t quite right with Lilly, but we didn’t have the time to stop and question it.

‘We had a plan!’ Henry snapped at Howie. He was very angry and was struggling to keep his voice down. Howie just shrugged, and we all looked inside the gates that were by then fully open, but there was just a road on the other side running between fields.

‘It’s on you when this goes south,’ Frank then said to Howie. ‘Fucking ill-disciplined.’

‘I’m not a soldier,’ Howie said.

‘You’re a fucking twat is what you are!’ Frank said. I thought Howie might get angry at that, but he just turned away to start walking through the gates.

‘Lilly! Up front with me,’ Howie called.

I thought she’d question it. She looked ready to do so, but she stayed quiet and jogged with Mary to get to the front. ‘I don’t trust you behind me,’ Howie told her bluntly, and we started walking.

Henry moved up to the front too, but the atmosphere between him and Howie was strained to say the least. Frank moved out to a flanking position, and the lads spread out into a ragged line with whispered instructions from Blowers not to bunch up. I think this was so they didn’t all get killed immediately when the bad people gunned us down, but rather dragged it out, so we’d all suffer horribly instead.

That was how it felt. That we were walking into something terrible. I felt it, and Carmen was glued to my side. ‘Frank, sling the rifle,’ she whispered to him. ‘All of you, sling the weapons.’

‘When I’m cold and dead,’ Frank muttered, and we walked on along the road that ran to the mansion house in the distance.

‘Look,’ Howie said and pointed to the field on one side, then to the other side. ‘We did that in the fort when Darren came at us.’

‘We did,’ Clarence said, and we all looked at the deep ditches dug into the bare earth and how they were filled with sharpened stakes at the bottom. The earth that had been dug out was stacked on the outgoing side, creating a slippery, sheer bank for any invading hordes to scale.

‘They could run straight down the road though,’ Paula said.

‘Look left and right,’ Carmen said as we all squinted to see two large watch towers made from scaffolding. One on either side of the road. A large machine gun on top of each one, gripped and aimed by people wearing night vision goggles.

‘Fifty cals,’ Clarence said at the sight of the big, fixed guns on the towers. ‘Wish we had those.’

‘No touch grass. Mines,’ one of them said in a Russian voice as we passed between them.

‘This is a mistake,’ I then heard Henry tell Howie. ‘You have no idea how bad this man is.’

‘Then go back, Henry.’

It was a simple and very effective response. Henry didn’t have to come with us. I don’t think he quite knew what to say to that, but I saw the foul looks coming from Frank, and I suspected Carmen wasn’t convinced this was the right thing to do.

‘I will never order anyone to do anything,’ Howie then said and came to a stop. ‘None of you have to come with me.’

‘You ordered me to come up front,’ Lilly said with a flash of her normal self, which earned a twitch at Howie’s mouth.

‘Not even arguing with you. You’re too smart. What happened to your face anyway?’ he asked and set off again.

‘We were drink driving.’

‘That’s not like you.’

‘That’s really not like you,’ Paula said.

‘I made a mistake.’

‘Making a mistake is aiming guns at my lot in the fort,’ Howie said and gave her a side-eye. ‘Drink driving is a fuck up. You don’t fuck up like that.’

‘Well. I did.’

‘Naked?’

‘Yes.’

He gave her another look. He didn’t believe her. But he didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the time to unpack whatever it was going on.

‘Eyes front,’ Henry then said.

‘I can see them,’ Howie said, and we all looked ahead to the staggered machine gun posts behind walls of sandbags. Each one held ready by a dark figure wearing night vision glasses. No lights anywhere. Not a single glow of a candle in sight. The rain still coming down.

We reached a parking area in front of the big house and could see, and feel many guns aiming at us. We stopped and waited for a second.

‘My name is Howie!’ Howie then called out. ‘We need guns and bullets to kill zombies.’

‘Not zombies,’ I said. ‘Accuracy, Mr Howie.’

‘Simplicity, Mr Reginald,’ he murmured straight back at me as a door opened. Very slowly. And with a big creaking sound straight from the audio library of horror movie sound effects.

‘Should have stayed in the crocodile moat,’ Tappy muttered.

‘I thought that!’ Howie said.

‘And me,’ Paula said as we all agreed.

‘I was thinking piranhas myself,’ Mary said.

‘Always one,’ Tappy said.

‘Something you want to say there?’ Mary asked her.

‘I just did.’

‘Shall we save the bickering until we’re tied up over the shark tank?’ Paula asked. ‘And put some bloody oil on those hinges!’ she called as the shadowy figure of a man came through the door and stopped at the top of the steps.

He looked big. Very big, but then he was atop the steps. I then heard one of our team shiver, as though cold. I thought it to be Ali, being that she was very lean, and it occurred to me that the temperature had indeed dropped.

My focus was then diverted from the weather to the very large man walking slowly down the steps, and it was only when he came closer that I observed he was also wearing a set of night vision goggles, as were the other figures all around us. Whom, I then noticed, had edged closer and had weapons gripped and aimed in our direction. Which did not bode well at all.

The large man then reached the base of the steps and kept coming towards us, and I realised just how blasted big he really was. He was easily as big as Clarence. As tall and as wide, and I could see he had a big beard.

He then stopped and stared at all of us, then seemed to spend a long moment studying Howie.

‘Why here?’ he asked in a very deep voice. He sounded tough and very sinister with a thick Russian accent.

‘Can we borrow your crocodiles?’ Howie asked.

‘Fuck’s sake, Howie. Be serious,’ Paula whispered.

The big man snorted, but whether it was from humour or annoyance was impossible to tell. He simply turned away and started back up the steps. ‘Comes,’ he said without looking back.

‘We don’t have time for this,’ Howie said. ‘Do you have guns or not?’

The big man didn’t say anything. He reached the door and motioned for Howie to follow him, then pulled his night vision goggles off, and stepped out of sight.

We stepped through a number of thick, black curtains. At least five or six of them, but as we got further in, I saw glimpses of light ahead; then we went through the last of what I realised were black-out curtains and stepped into a world of warm, glowing lights.

I was rather dazzled initially as we shuffled further inside to make room. While also shielding our eyes. I heard gasps and whispers from all around us. The scrape of metal and what sounded like crockery. I could smell food too. Rich and savoury, and there was a distinct aroma of coffee in the air.

I was blinking quite rapidly to aid the adjustment in my vision and saw Howie’s face showing the same level of surprise that I and, no doubt, the others all felt.

‘What the fuck,’ Howie said.

‘Jesus,’ Paula said at the same time as Clarence and Roy, and the lads, and even Carmen all muttered in the same way. I think I did too because it was so unexpected.

We’d stepped into a large, open-plan foyer. There was a grand staircase ahead of us with a deep red runner carpet. The floor beneath us was tiled, and as I looked around, I saw glowing lights coming from lanterns and lamps, and string lights in much the same way as we had done in the garden centre and Lilly had done in the fort.

It looked cosy and warm, and it was chock-full of people that were very obviously not soldiers or mercenaries as we’d been told to expect. They were normal men and women, and children, and they were all staring at us.

The foyer had a large opening into a refectory with serving tables staffed by workers tending big, steaming pots of food.

The rest of the room was filled with trestle tables and bench seats with people poised and looking up from eating. Some of them standing and leaning to see past each other. On the other side of the foyer, I could see another grand room filled with beanbags and luxury sofas, and couches, upon which children were lying or cuddled up holding books, or colouring at low tables while others watched cartoons on screens.

That was surprising enough, given what we had been told to expect, but it wasn’t the thing that made us all stand in silence. And it wasn’t the thing that made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

It was the pink armbands they all had on.

Every single one of them.

And it was the banner hanging in the eating room.

F*ck them! Mister Howie will win!

‘Fuck ’em; we’ll win,’ Howie snorted. ‘Close enough,’ he added with a touch of a smile that seemed to instantly prompt noise and motion, and I flinched as the giant man with the beard roared with laughter and swept in to grasp Howie in a big bear hug. He lifted him off the ground and laughed, and it seemed we were swarmed by people on all sides. My hand was grasped and pumped, and my cheeks were kissed, and my shoulders were patted and slapped, and all in an instant.

‘Don’t touch him!’ I heard Marcy call and just saw her push Dave behind her.

‘DON’T TOUCH THE DAVE!’ the big man shouted in a deep Russian accent, and only then did he put Howie down and held him at arm’s length. ‘Mister Howies! MISTER HOWIES!’ he roared again and laughed while poor Howie was being somewhat shaken like a doll. ‘The pink! PINK,’ the big man shouted and grinned at Howie’s pink beret, then at the rest of us wearing them. ‘PINK!’ he said again and motioned his own armband as others in the room made a point of showing us their pink armbands. ‘AND MISS PAULA!’ he shouted, and she was next. Being lifted and hugged as she yelped. ‘LOOK!’ he bellowed and put Paula down with a very theatrical gasp as he looked at Marcy. ‘It true. Da? Yes? A beauty! My heart! Oh!’ he shouted as she gave him her very best movie star smile, and the big man patted his heart and bowed, then roared with laughter, and she too was lifted and hugged.

‘Is that Krakov?’ I asked quietly as Carmen nodded, and I think Krakov heard as I was next.

‘Reginald!’ he boomed and showed me to everyone, who made noises of awe as I was crushed and lifted and spent a moment lost in his very long and bushy, and rather wild beard. His hair was the same, although thinning on top, but still long. And he had a big nose and big teeth, and high Russian cheeks. His eyes were blue. As blue as Cookey’s. Bright and full of intelligence and life. Then I was dropped, and he roared the loudest yet on seeing Clarence. ‘MY BROTHER! Brother from the other mother, da? Yes?’

‘I don’t need a hug,’ Clarence tried to say, but Krakov was having none of it, and he moved in with a growl like a bear about to fight another bear. Clarence tried to step back, but that only made Krakov laugh even louder, and everyone else too, and so Clarence took it in good grace. Which was a sight to see, let me tell you that. I’ve never seen two such large men so close together.

‘But this!’ Krakov then said and grabbed at Clarence’s metal spike prosthetic with a show of great awe. ‘Your hand. It gone. You have this! I want this! Take my hand! Take it now!’

He laughed again, then spotted Tappy, who grinned with delight as she was lifted into his crushing hug. ‘My daughter! She has these,’ he said and put her down to gently touch her tattooed arms. ‘And this! So pretty,’ he said, seeing the pink make-up on her cheeks. ‘ELKA! ELKA!’ he roared. ‘TAPPY IS HERE!’

‘What the actual,’ Tappy said, laughing with confused delight as we heard people calling out, and we looked to see a young woman coming down the stairs. Short, punky, black hair and dark make-up; slim but muscular, and covered in tattoos. Her arms and hands, and her neck, and the top of her chest. If that wasn’t enough, she was carrying a very large sniper rifle with a scope on her shoulder that she handed to someone when she reached the bottom and moved into her father’s side. ‘This my Elka. My love! My daughter. Her mother. She die,’ Krakov said with a face of great pain as he touched his heart again. ‘Many years she die, but still my only love. I have picture. You see?’ he asked Tappy.

‘Love to!’ she said as she and the lads, and probably all of us crammed in as Krakov pulled a large, golden locket out hanging on a thick steel chain around his neck and opened it to show us a picture of a beautiful woman with black hair. ‘She’s beautiful,’ Tappy said.

‘She is,’ Charlie said. ‘That’s your mother?’

‘Da. Yes,’ Elka said, her accent less strong than Krakov’s. ‘My father never take this off. But me? I have tattoo.’ She pulled the top of her t-shirt sleeve up to show the same woman’s face inked onto her shoulder.

‘Good work!’ Tappy said.

‘Where’s Nina?’ Charlie asked gently and very politely, as is Charlie’s way.

‘Nina? You know Nina?’ Elka asked her as Krakov frowned down at Charlie.

‘We played hockey together,’ Charlie said.

Krakov’s eyebrows shot up on hearing that and he peered closer at Charlie. ‘Da! The hair. Charlie! Of course it is you! I hear your name. Charlie with the horse. Where is the horse? But we all hear your name and I never think it is you! Nina say many things about you! Is best hockey player. Is best captain! Charlie! You know my Nina! I miss her.’ The big man looked wretched for a moment and pulled Charlie in for another hug and we could all see the genuine pain in his eyes.

‘Nina was in Russia when the outbreak hit,’ Elka said into the heavy silence. ‘We have not heard from her. But Nina is smart. She will survive.’

‘Yes. Da,’ Krakov said and released poor Charlie. ‘Nina was not a soldier like Nina, but she is smart. She think all the time.

‘Paula? Do you think they’ve got any soup left?’ Nick then whispered as everyone pulled sad faces.

‘Jesus, Nick. Seriously?’ she asked as Krakov laughed and greeted the lads each in turn. He knew their names too. Even Danny and Mo, and he asked the names of the younger ones and showed them the same delight and greetings.

‘But Nick! He always eat!’ Krakov bellowed. ‘We know this! Everyone know this! I see you coming through my forests, and I tell the cooks make more food! Nicholas is coming! Nicholas the Great! Nicholas the Handsomes. Good genes. If not with Tappy, you marry my Elka! But she is gay! GAY!’

‘I’m not gay,’ Elka said with a roll of her eyes. ‘I like both,’ she added as though it was no big deal.

But Krakov had seen someone else by then, and he made a deep, long noise like a growl or some such as he moved to Lilly. ‘Miss Lillys! So young. Look! So young! Eyes like mines. Like mines eyes. So blue. Your hairs! So fair! Why not pink berries? No pink hat for Miss Lillys. And this,’ he said and held her face gently in one hand to see the bruises. ‘Who do this? Tell me, and I crush them.’

‘Car accident,’ she said as he growled then roared with laughter. ‘Now? In end of world, you crash car?’

Lilly nodded as Krakov swept her up and laughed loudly. ‘But why not hats for Miss Lillys?’

‘I’m not part of Mr Howie’s team,’ Lilly said.

‘We are all team. ALL! We all wear the pink! But I see. I see this. Yes. Da. Mr Howie first team wear the pink berries. But Miss Lillys should have the pink hat. Oh. But look! LOOK! So tense. So angry,’ he said and turned away as he looked at Henry and his team all off to one side. Frank, Maddox, and Bashir, and Tilda too, and it was only then that I observed the soldiers from the fort had chosen to stay with Henry.

‘But Carmen Eze is here,’ Krakov said and grinned at Carmen, and took her hand with a great show of respect. He even bowed his head and did not try and sweep her up into a hug. ‘Carmen Eze is known to us before this,’ he told the room and anyone listening. ‘I see you many times. But you don’t see me. Huh? You don’t see Krakov.’

‘I’ve seen you,’ she said evenly.

‘Only when I want you to!’ he said and winked, then made a show of noticing the gap between her and her old team. ‘Major Henry Campbell-Dillington. Frank McGill. And Kyle! I did not see you, Kyle! KYLE!’ he roared and rushed in to clasp Kyle’s hand.

‘Aye. Good to see you again, Krakov.’

‘You know him?’ Frank asked with a vicious look at Kyle.

‘Once and once only,’ Kyle said.

‘Mogadishu! Somalia!’ Krakov said as Kyle winced, and Frank’s face grew dark.

‘That’s where it came from,’ Frank said. ‘You armed those cunts from him.’

‘Frank. Now is not the time,’ Kyle tried to say, but Krakov was already shouting him down.

‘I arm the Somalians! Me! Yes. They have the right to defend themselves!’

‘Nice one, nipper,’ Frank said with a filthy look at Howie. ‘Told you he was a fucking child killer. And don’t be fooled by this charade.’

‘Me!? Krakov said. ‘I am child killer?’

‘You’re a fucking murderer,’ Frank snapped. ‘You sold guns to the worst people on this planet! You put kiddies in shipping containers!’

‘Da! Yes! I do these things.’

‘You put children in containers?’ Paula asked.

‘Yes! Many times we do this.’

‘That’s barbaric,’ Paula said.

‘My family died in a container,’ Ali then spoke out with a look of disgust at Krakov. ‘Was that you?’ she asked as she looked ready to commit murder. ‘My whole family died. Forty people!’

‘Oh god, I remember that on the news,’ Paula said. ‘You’re that little girl. The one they found.’

‘No,’ Elka said quickly. ‘We not do this.’

‘No!’ Krakov bellowed over her. ‘Not us. We never lose anyones.’

‘None of ours ever died,’ Elka added.

‘That’s not something to boast about!’ Paula said. ‘You trafficked human beings!’

‘What?’ Elka said and sighed like she’d heard this before. ‘No! We save. We take from factories and farms, and we give better lives. No, no, no!’

‘That’s trafficking!’ Paula said.

‘Is not,’ Elka said with a shrug. ‘Trafficking is against will. Taken. Da? Yes? We give service for monies and all live. We guard containers. Only few in each. Air. Foods. Beds. Drinks. Toilets. Medicines. They can washes and stay cleans! No, no, no. We never traffick.’

‘Full of shit,’ Frank snapped. ‘They’re fucking child killers!’

‘You kill more children!’ Elka said as she glared at Frank and Henry. ‘My father never once kill a child! Never one time!’

‘He gave them assault rifles!’ Frank said over her. ‘Child soldiers in Africa! Where do you think they got the guns from?’

‘NO!’ Elka shouted over him. ‘We sold guns for peoples to defend lives.’

‘Fuck you!’

‘FUCK YOU!’ Elka yelled back. ‘Your media twist and lie. UK and US, and France, and all you make Africa bad and weak. AIDS! Malaria! Diseases! None of these things in your countries. You give them to Africa to keep them weak and broken!’

‘We didn’t give them AIDS, you daft bitch!’

I thought Krakov would explode at Frank McGill calling his daughter a daft bitch, and he certainly looked angry, but he was also apparently comfortable for her to deal with the abuse herself.

‘You could have stopped it!’ Elka said. ‘Many diseases. Clean water. Toilets! US. UK. FRANCE! All of you. Keep Africa weak. Every phone. Every tablet. Every computer. All have minerals from Africa. And UK sell more guns than we do. UK and US, and France all sell many guns to bad peoples. We sell to other sides. We make fair. We give balance. Why should you have all the powers?’

‘Not this shit again. You spent too much time online, love.’

‘Fuck you! Why not stop Rwanda genocide? Bill Clinton knew! Why not stop? France army was there! Keep Africas weak. We give guns to make stable.’

‘To children!’

‘Because all mens were dead!’ Elka shouted back. ‘And you kill children. Frank McGill. You! YOU! We see. My father, he sees you.’

‘I see you!’ Krakov said into the charged air. ‘Pakistan. On the border. I see you, Frank McGill!’

‘How you know he was there?’ Elka shouted at Frank and Henry. ‘Mustafa Al-Sayed!’

‘The terrorist?’ Paula asked.

‘YES!’ Elka and Krakov both roared. ‘My father. He there for deal. He see him. He see Al-Sayed go into the building. An orphanage! With childrens! Ten childrens! My father see this mans and know is bad mans. All peoples know Al-Sayed is bad mans. ISIS. HAMAS. All these. Al-Sayed give them bombs and guns. Not us! Al-Sayed. US want this mans. NATO want this mans. My father seen this mans go into the orphanage. He tell CIA!’

‘Da. I tell CIA. I make call to my contacts. They tell CIA. They tell MI6. We have hims. We have this mans! I say I can get him. I say I will do this. I have mens with me. All Special Forces. All trained. We all say we gets this mans out from orphanage and hold him.’

‘Did you fuck,’ Frank said.

‘We do this!’ Krakov bellowed. ‘How you know he was there?’

‘We are not accountable to you,’ Henry said coldly.

‘WE TOLD YOU!’ Elka shouted.

‘We were briefed,’ Henry replied.

‘Because my father saw hims!’ Elka said as Henry pulled his head back in distaste.

‘He did not know,’ Krakov said in a sudden rush of words. ‘Henry did not know it was us!’

‘I am not revealing any sources to you,’ Henry said.

‘You did not know!’ Krakov said louder. ‘It go through Howard? Da? Huh? Yes?’

It must have been weird for Howie to hear his father’s name like that, and I saw him blinking in reaction.

‘This discussion is over,’ Henry said.

‘No! He calls my father child killer,’ Elka said and pointed at Frank. ‘Frank comes to kill Al-Sayed. Frank comes to the border. I go there. I have rifle! I am sniper. I keep watch with my father. We see Frank McGill. We call CIA and say we will help because Frank McGill is solo operator. He haves no back-up. We say we help. For free! We gets Al-Sayed out and give him to Frank McGill. Al-Sayed kills many childrens and womens. Bad mans.’

‘Fuck this,’ Frank said and made as though to leave.

‘Are you coward?’ Elka asked as Frank span back to glare at her with the first touch of real violence. ‘You no want them to hears this? Mister Howies hear this.’

‘Honestly? I don’t give a fuck,’ Howie said and tried to tell them to stop, so we could get what we needed, but they were already too underway and shouting.

‘Frank McGill destroy orphanages!’ Elka shouted. ‘Kill all childrens inside. Kill Al-Sayed.’

‘Is that true?’ Paula asked.

‘We don’t answer to you,’ Henry cut in, glaring at Elka but clearly telling everyone.

‘Was that true?’ Paula snapped.

‘That is a snapshot of a story without any of the larger picture,’ Henry said. ‘Frank negated a terrorist responsible for killing thousands of people. Many in the UK and the US. Every attack in the West was linked to Al-Sayed.’

‘Yeah, I fucking killed him,’ Frank said. ‘And I’d do it again.’

‘We could have got hims!’ Elka shouted as it all went up again.

‘We don’t work with terrorists,’ Henry said.

‘You worst terrorists of all!’ Elka said with low voice of pure hatred. ‘CIA. MI6. DGSE. SVR. All terrorists!’

‘Hey. Tell you what,’ Howie then said in a forced light tone. ‘Why don’t you all stay and argue, and we’ll go kill the zombies? Yes? Da?’

He earned a very sharp look from Elka, and Krakov even flinched as though he was suddenly shamed.

Even Elka made a noise like a low growl as she turned away from Henry and Frank. ‘We give whats you need. Mister Howies has our support in this war.’

‘Can we have the soup too?’ Nick asked as Paula rolled her eyes and a few of the lads snorted laughs, which made Krakov throw his head back and roar with delight as he marched over and threw an arm around Nick’s shoulders.

‘Food for our guests!’ he shouted as the other people started moving. ‘You come. Sit. Eat! We talk.’

‘We don’t have time to talk,’ Howie said. ‘We need to get to Winchester.’

‘They haven’t eaten,’ Paula then told Howie ‘They need to eat. We need to eat.’

‘Comes,’ Krakov said and motioned us into the big canteen. ‘We eats and talks. And Ali? Is Ali? Your family. It not us that do this,’ he said and took the time to find Ali and offer comfort. She was quiet but said thank you, but then I should imagine they were very painful memories for her. Paula saw it too and was very quick to put her arm around the young lady as we filed into the large canteen. ‘Lesley! Soup for our friends. Two servings for Nick!’

A woman with dark hair behind the serving tables smiled as we filed in and I noticed a black and white collie dog shoot out from behind the woman to greet Meredith. Which was rather strange for all of us as we’d not seen Meredith interact with another dog before. We all fell silent and watched, not quite sure how she would react. But they sniffed noses, then bottoms and wagged tails and did all of their canine conversational things with almost ceremonial reverence. It was a beautiful dog too, and I did notice that it never let Lesley out of sight.

She was a friendly woman too. ‘Never thought I would actually meet you!’ she said as she spooned food into our bowls. I feel like I’ve won a competition or something!’

She was very nice. All of the people were. Which is not what we were expecting. I was also very glad of the food which, I must say, I was rather glad of because
even I was becoming frightfully hungry, so one can only imagine how poor Nick must have felt. Suffice to say, within a moment or two, we were being passed big bowls filled with savoury soup chuck-full of thick vegetables and meats.

‘Was this your home?’ Paula asked.

‘Da. Yes,’ Elka said as she handed Paula a bowl of food. ‘Eat. Is good. When happens. Outbreak. We hear intel from our sources in Russia, then in Germanys and places. We know this coming. We lockdown. It hits and is bad. We go out into village next days and get supplies, and we kill some of the zombees. We bring peoples back. Then again. Then again. We dig ditches and make defences. We build towers, and we make house, so no light can show outside.’

‘But we saw you!’ Krakov said with a big grin as he tucked into a bowl of soup. ‘On cameras! We put them in forest. We see you! I say is Henry! Is Frank McGill. Is Carmen Eze. They come for us! They send The Dave! But then we sees Mister Howie and Marcy, so we don’t detonate our bombs. Da? Our bombs in forest! All go bang! Henry did not see these!’

‘He’s lying. There were no bombs,’ Henry said stiffly, off to one side with Frank and his team, who, I saw, were eating while Henry and Frank refused to partake.

‘Henry. Eat when you can on a mission. You taught me that,’ Kyle said and passed him a bowl. Henry tutted but took it reluctantly. Frank still refused and looked ready to kick off at any second. I saw Carmen try and push a bowl of food into his hands, but he was having none of it.

‘How come we don’t know about this place?’ Paula asked and looked to Lilly and Kyle. ‘Did you know this was here?’

‘No,’ Lilly said as Kyle shook his head with a mouthful of food.

‘Only a few peoples have left here,’ Elka said. ‘We have what we needs. Why leave? But some peoples want to look for families. We go with them if we can, or we tells them don’t talks about us. Don’t tell anyones we are here. Not to anyones. Not to the forts. Not even to Mister Howies or Miss Lillys. We don’t know who to trust or who starts this. We have many peoples here to keep safe.’

‘Mr Krakov,’ I said. ‘Forgive me, but you said Winchester as though it was no surprise.’

‘Da. Yes. Winchester,’ he said. ‘We see them moving. We have drones.’

‘What you needs?’ Elka asked.

‘Everything,’ Howie said honestly. ‘We’ve got less than a hundred bullets between us.’

Elka nodded. ‘We helps. Come. We show.’

We were led through the mansion, past rooms turned into makeshift dorms and another into a medical bay. ‘They all seem happy,’ I remarked to Carmen, meaning the people inside. Especially after Henry and Frank had said they’d all be slaves.

Carmen nodded. She seemed troubled. I think I knew why. She’d been told to have a negative view of Krakov, which duly formed him to be a monster within her own mind. That obviously being a tactic, used by military types the world over to demonise and therefore dehumanise their opponents, which, in turn, makes it easier to kill them and inflict pain and misery.

But now, upon meeting him, that view was being challenged, and I could also sense the dynamics shifting between her and her old team and that her loyalties were swinging much more towards Howie.

I realised that must have been a burden for her, and I felt sorry for Carmen. She had so often showed me such care, and because she is my very dear friend, I touched her hand to show support.

Diary of Carmen Eze

Best. Day. Ever.

Reginald literally held my hand! He did! We were walking through the corridors behind Krakov and his daughter, and I think Reggie clocked how I was feeling. Which was conflicted and confused, and all sorts because Krakov was not what I was expecting at all. I knew he had a daughter. We all knew Elka was a skilled sniper and trained soldier with more than a few kills as a merc. But they were warm and friendly, and well, just nice. And the house was nice, and the people were nice, and the food was very bloody nice.

And all that between Elka and Frank too. That was hard to witness.

We used to get hot briefings. Say a job comes in. A target we’ve wanted for a long time is somewhere or other. We’re tasked to get there and take them out. It could be any number of units in NATO countries that get tasked. Elka was right on that front. UK. US. France. We all did plenty of them. Australia and New Zealand too. So yes. We’d get briefed, and we’d deploy. And I heard about the job with Al-Sayed. Everyone knew about it. Al-Sayed was the top number one target for many agencies. So, in a way, it was fitting that one of the UK’s best got to take him out. And I also knew he was killed in an airstrike on an orphanage.

But we’d been told it was empty.

And that Al-Sayed was in a bunker with guards.

But yet, Krakov was saying Al-Sayed was alone and the children were inside.

Frank would have lit it up. Meaning, he would have painted it with a laser for the strike force to use. I’d done that before. That’s really quite standard for deniable ops. We get in, do the gig, and exfil, and if we’re caught, then it looks like we are mercs rather than sent on a mission by any particular government.

So hearing it from Krakov’s side. That he had Al-Sayed in his sights, and Krakov had a team on the ground. Yes, Krakov is an arms dealer and a POS, as we all thought, but we also knew his inner team were all highly trained SF operatives, who would have been more than capable of negating Al-Sayed without risk to the children. Or Elka could have taken a shot when Al-Sayed put his head outside.

So why didn’t we do that?

Did Howard know?

But then Howard didn’t always know the sources either. Every handler protects their sources. So if it was via another agency or government official, we wouldn’t know who the origin was.

But then Howie was also right too. It didn’t matter.

So yes, that’s what was in my head in that corridor, which Reginald must have seen or like even felt, which means we are becoming close in that way of detecting each other’s emotions.

Whatever. He touched my hand, and I made sure to carry on looking sad and confused, so I could keep his hand in mine, but honestly, by then I was like, Henry who? Al-Sayed what? I didn’t care! I was holding Reginald’s hand. And in the words of a wise and sage man, Fuck Henry and fuck the old world and everything that was in it. This is the new world, and I was doing something that made me happy (that didn’t involve birds).

Although, in fairness, it didn’t last that long at all.

We had to stop because we reached a security door with a keypad and biometric entry. Which was too narrow for us both to go through, so I had to let go of his hand.

I did hope he’d reach back out for it when we got on the other side, but that would have been weird.

Anyway. Then we went down a flight of concrete steps to another security door that led into a very large, modern basement. Within which Elka activated the lights, and once again, we all gawped in surprise at was inside. Which, I realised very quickly, was going to make Henry and Frank (and me too) look stupid again.

Because we’d said Krakov might have some arms we could use. As in – some small amounts.

Which wasn’t the case at all.

Because Krakov had everything. And I mean everything and plenty of it, and Elka smiled as she walked along with her hand draping over racks of brand-new Kalashnikovs.

Dozens of them. Multiple dozens of them next to crates of ammunition and grenades. I saw rows of C7 and C8 CQB assault rifles, which are very commonly used by Special Forces operatives. Plus, lots of sub-machine guns. Shotguns. Pistols.

They had larger calibre 7.62 light machine guns too. Brownings and Russian PKs, and others, and even some modern equivalent of the German MG42, which probably killed more people in World War Two than any other firearm.

Then in the middle were the big calibre machine guns. Fifty cals on tripods with quick-change-barrels, ready for vehicle mounting. Grenade launchers too with big capacity drum magazines for 30mm explosives.

‘Holy shit. Seen that?’ Blowers said and nudged my side to nod at the crates of C4. Det cord. Timers. Switches. Claymores. Landmines.

‘Is that dynamite?’ Nick asked, moving over to peer into a wooden box.

‘Da,’ Elka said with a smile.

‘Actual fucking dynamite,’ Nick said.

‘Ooh, they’ve got clothes!’ Marcy then said as we all looked at the racks of black combat clothing. Scandinavian mostly. Boots. Trousers. Tops. Outer layers. Helmets, tac vests, and armour. All manner of torches and night vision kit.

I’d never seen such well-stocked stores before. Not anywhere. Not even Delta Force in the US had access to that much kit.

‘And for you,’ Elka said and smiled at Roy, and we all watched her loop her arm through his and lead him over to a side room, and she even laughed at his reaction when she leant in and turned the light on.

I stepped out to see inside to a room filled with melee and hand-to-hand combat weapons. Swords. Machetes. Axes. Knives. Even spears and big riot police polycarb shields. And on one side lots of crossbows and bolts, and right next to them was a whole big supply of bows and arrows.

‘Thank god!’ I heard Roy say, and he rushed inside to grab a longbow and test the flex or whatever it is they do; then he was finding the string rope thing.

But then something else caught my attention, and up to then, I’d not really bought into the whole Lilly thing. I couldn’t see why Howie or Reginald, or even Paula gave Lilly so much leeway. It was like they knew something the rest of us didn’t. I thought she was arrogant, precocious, and extremely self-absorbed, and because of all that and her obvious sociopathic behaviour, I thought her to be downright dangerous.

But right then, I saw a flash of what Howie and Reggie see in her because she stepped over to us and said quietly, ‘They were stockpiling. They knew this was coming.’

I don’t think even Reginald had made that conclusion that fast. But Lilly did, and as soon as she said it, well, it was obvious.

But then Mary said something low and fast to Lilly. Like a warning, and Lilly instantly dropped her gaze as though withdrawing into herself.

By then, Howie was already turning to speak to Krakov, but he glanced back at Lilly. ‘What happened to your face?’ he asked again.

‘Told you. Drink driving,’ she said it fast without looking at him. But her tone was firm.

‘Full of shit,’ he said, then called out to Krakov and Elka. ‘Big stockpile. Did you know it was coming?’ he asked bluntly. Which, I am learning, is often the best way.

Henry frowned, and I actually rather liked the fact Lilly had beaten even him to that conclusion. Not that I like Lilly. I can’t fucking stand her.

Elka didn’t reply but looked to her father. Which spoke volumes.

‘We will speak on this another time. Da?’ Krakov said, then smiled, and moved over to the Kalashnikovs as though to change the subject as he pulled one out.

‘I don’t care if you knew,’ Howie told him. ‘I want the people that started it. Do you know them?’

‘Howie,’ Henry warned.

‘And if me?’ Krakov asked with what sounded like a taunt as he stared down at Howie.

Howie didn’t reply. He just looked at Krakov as the air grew very hard very quickly, and I saw The Dave glide a step into position, and the dog moved in close to Howie’s side and started growling. Then I clocked Paula had her hand on her knife behind her back. And I know I’ve said it before, but Paula is badass. It’s easy to overlook her sometimes because she’s a woman in a group of men with very strong personalities. But Paula took a whole town out on her own, and she might act motherly to her crew, but she is a killer, and she’s got a killer’s instincts.

Funny thing is though, all of that only seemed to delight Krakov. His eyebrows shot up, and he shared a grin with his daughter. ‘You feel that?’ he asked her in Russian and turned back to Howie.

‘No, no, no. I not knows who. We hears rumours. Something big. Peoples go missing. Some peoples die. Scientists.’

‘So, we make ready,’ Elka added with a wave around the room. ‘UK is easy to get weapons into,’ she said with a grin and a wink at Howie and Paula and a nod of her head towards Henry.

‘Very easy!’ Krakov said with another roar of laughter. ‘The borders are wide opens! Is free for all!’

I knew that was coming, and it was as awkward as I feared. What could we say? We couldn’t deny it. Krakov had more munitions than I’d ever seen in one place. How the hell he got it all into the country without alerting any authorities was anyone’s guess.

‘Indeed,’ Reginald then said politely, ‘but perhaps we should focus on Winchester?’

‘Da. Yes. This is the priorities,’ Krakov said and handed the AK to Howie. ‘You take these. AK Is better,’ he said and nodded at Howie’s SA80 assault rifle slung to his back. ‘AK is bigger round. Get wet. In mud. Pick up from puddle. From snow. Still work.’

‘It’s lighter! I was expecting it to be heavier,’ Paula says after Elka handed her one. ‘And these are better? Dave? Are these better?’

‘Ahem,’ Clarence said.

‘Sorry!’ Paula said with a wince. ‘But are they better?’

‘For what we’re doing, yes,’ Clarence replied with a huff, then huffed again when he remembered he only had one hand and awkwardly propped it on his spike.

‘Ah! Try this!’ Krakov shouted and grinned at Clarence as he walked over to the light machine guns and hefted a Russian made PKM. He popped a crate open and pulled an ammunition drum out, and held them both up with a big grin. The PKM in one hand like a big, beefy AK machine gun, and the big drum in the other. ‘Two hundreds and fifty,’ he added, meaning the capacity of the ammunition drum.

I could see Clarence’s eyes light up as he pushed the AK into my hands and walked over to take the PKM.

‘We could put a fifty cal on the Saxon, boss,’ Blowers said. ‘I mean, are we allowed to?’ he asked with a glance at Krakov.

‘Da! Yes! All for you. Take! We have manys. And your clothes. They smells. Take new. Is best kit.’

They really had stockpiled, and it was clear they’d thought of the future.

‘Okay,’ Howie said as though taken aback. But then I think we were all feeling it. None of us expected what we were seeing or the generosity that came with it. ‘So? What do we need? I would ask Dave, but you’ll get shitty,’ he said with a quick grin to Clarence. ‘Seriously, though. Henry? What do you think? This is your arena.’

Henry was still sulking. So was Frank. That annoyed me. They were being a pair of stupid pricks. ‘Mission. Focus?’ I said but could still see them looking dark and angry. ‘You know what? Fuck this. Okay, listen in! Mr Krakov and Elka have agreed for a re-supply. Stack our rifles here. We’ll pass out AKs and run through a firing drill when we get clear.’

‘We have room for firing,’ Elka said and walked over to yet another side room, and turned the lights on inside to show us a range with a thick wall of sandbags at the end. ‘You have sniper?’ she asked.

‘We don’t,’ I replied.

‘Is shame. We have good rifles.’

‘Are you a sniper?’ Blowers asked her.

‘Da.’

‘Do you play darts?’ Cookey asked as I saw Paula roll her eyes.

‘Darts? Yes. I play. I am good.’

‘Dibs!’ Cookey and Blowers both shouted.

‘Fuck off! You can’t have Elksey and Carmen,’ Cookey said.

‘Lads. Quickly now,’ Howie called and brought them back to focus, with Cookey mouthing, On my team, to Elka.

‘How manys did you see?’ Krakov then asked. ‘The infected peoples. They go towards Winchester? We use drone. We see some hundreds yesterday. Maybe the one thousand, we thinks. We wait to see if you kills them, but we no see yous. We think to go tomorrow and kill them. We kill some groups of hundreds. Never this many in one time. But we think we do this. Is our war too. But… Now you are here.’

‘Well. It’s a few more now,’ Paula said and pulled her hair band out that snapped with a twang and shot off across the room. ‘Fuck’s sake. Has anyone got a hair band?’

‘We haves,’’ Elka said with a nod upstairs, but Mary dug into a pocket and passed one over.

‘Cheers,’ Paula said and swept hair up with a grimace. ‘It’s more like one hundred thousand, so you know, unless you’ve got a spare nuke lying around, we need to grab what we can and get going if that’s alright. Er, what’s that look for? What’s going on?’

I could see why Paula was saying that. It was the sudden change in energy and the way Elka and Krakov looked at each other.

‘Did I just miss something?’ Paula asked and shot a look to Howie, who shrugged.

Then Krakov nodded, and Elka made a face like are you sure, but he nodded again and walked over to a tarpaulin covering something and yanked it off, so we could all see it.

Right there.

On a pallet.

A fucking nuke.

7

Mary’s Report

A bloody nuke. Right there, in the room! I mean, not that any of us knew it was a nuke. I’d never seen one before. Maybe on the movies and suchlike, but those were big, pointy missile things or whatever they’re called. That thing didn’t look anything like a big, pointy missile.

But you know what? You could have heard a pin drop when we all saw it. Not one of us shifted an inch. Not one inch.

‘It’s not very big, is it?’ I said, and I heard Tappy and Tamara agreeing with me. Lilly didn’t say anything, but Lilly’s reactions happen on the inside if they happen at all.

But then Paula was peering down at it. ‘That’s a nuke?’ she asked.

‘Da,’ Elka said, which is yes in Russian, and again, I was looking at her and her daddy Krakov and thinking, Are they with George? I mean. They had to be. They were Russian, and Pamela was Russian, and some other fellas in the fort said Russian words to Lilly and me. And then Henry and Howie rock up, and they want to do this Krakov over, and George is ordering Lilly and I to go along, and, lo and behold, we waltz right in with a hero’s welcome, and Krakov is showing us his massive stockpile. And his nuke.

It felt too easy to me. I didn’t like it one bit. I knew Lilly would be considering it, and I heard her tell Howie and Reggie that Krakov must have known it was coming because this was a big stockpile. Lilly is smart as anything, but I had to remind her about what George said. Anyone in that room could have been a spy for George.

Anyway. So, by then we’re all looking at the nuke, which, like I said, didn’t look like a nuke at all. It looked more like a generator, and it had a big bull bars like a cradle, so it could be picked up easy. The middle bit was a big, square clump of metal, but it didn’t have a pointy end, and I thought to myself it wouldn’t get very far if you launched that from a submarine or from a plane. Not that I knew what they did with nukes. Only what I’d seen in James Bond movies and that.

Paula must have though the same because she said, ‘It doesn’t look like a nuclear bomb.’ But then Carmen, who I know hates Lilly and me, but she is switched on, and she knows these things, what with her being an elite soldier and all that. She was like, ‘That is a tactical nuke.’

‘Right,’ Paula said. ‘And what’s that exactly?’

‘Not a strategic nuke,’ Carmen explained.

‘The big ones that look like missiles with the pointy ends?’ I asked. Carmen gave me a nod, and I think the others were all like me and Paula and wondering about it. I think Paula was about to ask more questions, but then Henry got all upset.

‘Why do you have a nuke?’ he asked. But he said it slowly, like he was super cheesed off.

‘Da. Why do we have a nuke?’ Krakov said, but he was also saying it like it meant something, and he looked right at Henry and Frank.

‘What you on about, you prick?’ Frank said, and he looked ready to start killing people. Henry did too.

‘I have this more than one years! One years!’ Krakov was shouting by then and gesturing from the nuke to Henry and Frank, and I saw Elka had a look on her face. Like when someone kicks off in the camp, and Kathy wants a bit of it and starts giving folk the evil eye. That’s what Elka was doing.

‘Excuse my language, but you really are a piece of shit,’ Henry then said to Krakov, who looked ready to go pop, but he laughed instead. Only it wasn’t a happy, jokey laugh. There was way more meaning in it.

‘Us?’ Elka then asked and gave them a slow hand clap. ‘Da. Yes. We are pieces of shit. Well done, British Security Services. Good jobs!’ she gave them a big smile and a thumbs up as Krakov shook his head.

‘They don’t even knows about this,’ Krakov said. ‘They don’t knows about this!’

‘That’s why Al-Sayed was in Pakistans!’ Elka said. Her grin had gone by then. ‘He was buying this! He buys nuke. How do you not knows this? We see Al-Sayed on border. We tell CIA. Frank comes and kills, and he leaves, and nobody ask why Al-Sayed is there?’

‘Nobodys!’ Krakov shouted and waved his arms. ‘We thinks why? Why is this mans in Pakistan? We find North Koreans. We find this.’

‘And we waits!’ Elka was shouting too. ‘We thinks SAS will comes. Delta will comes. Somebodies will comes and take it!’

‘Ye didn’t know, Henry?’ Kyle asked as though it wasn’t possible. And poor old Henry didn’t know which way to look.

‘You’re lying,’ Henry said to Krakov, but he didn’t have any power in his words.

‘What happened?’ Tappy asked, and I’m glad she did because I wanted to know too.

‘We waits and nobody comes!’ Krakov said. ‘Elka says to me, papa, we can’t let them take that away. I say da! Is nuclear bomba!’

‘Why didn’t you call it in?’ Carmen asked him.

‘We did call. To CIA to tells Al-Sayed is there. Nobody listens to us.’

‘Fuck the CIA! Fuck the MI6!’ Elka shouted. ‘We try help, and they kills childrens!’

‘We kills the North Koreans!’ Krakov said. ‘My mens. My peoples! We strike, and we take bomba. Where is British? Where is Americans? Where is French? Nato? Anyones? Is a nuke!’

I did feel a touch sorry for Henry right then. Then I remembered him killing my uncle Peter, and I thought, fuck Henry, just like Elka said, fuck the CIA and everyone else. And more and more I kept thinking Howie was right. Fuck the old world. Fuck everything about it.

‘How do you know about the fort?’ Lilly then asked out loud, and she was proper Lilly and being all cold and smart, and her voice was direct like how she gets before she starts throwing grenades around. Krakov and Elka just blinked at her because of the sudden change of topic, and I couldn’t engage my brain quick enough to tell Lilly to stop. ‘You said people don’t leave here, so how do you know about the fort? And Mr Howie?’

‘And Captain Shaw?’ Krakov asked with a growing smile as he looked at Lilly. ‘He is leading the fort now? Da?’

‘I go inside the forts. Is no secret,’ Elka said.

‘I would have seen you,’ Lilly said, but Elka shrugged.

‘I saw you and Mary. I saw Lenski and Norman. I saw Kyles.’

‘No. You stand out,’ Lilly said. But Elka smiled and pulled her hood up, and changed her expression to look sad and broken. ‘So, like, my name is Sarah, and I like was an influencer,’ she said and made her voice all croaky and English. It would have fooled me. Then I remembered the threat we were under from George and that Lilly shouldn’t be asking questions. ‘Thank you for answering that,’ I said to Elka and Krakov. ‘Lilly and I were just wondering. We didn’t mean no harm.’

But it sounded weird and fake, and Howie and Paula, and pretty much all of them were giving Lilly and me funny looks.

‘What happened to your face?’ Howie asked Lilly again.

‘Told you. Drink driving,’ Lilly said.

But Paula made a noise and said, ‘You might be able to lie, Lilly. But Mary can’t. It’s written all over her face.’

It was my turn to do a Henry then and be all awkward, and I could feel myself going bright red. ‘Mary and I are just very embarrassed about it all,’ Lilly said, which was a touch of the genius to say that.

Howie grunted like he didn’t believe a word of it, but thankfully, he looked back to Krakov. ‘Can you make it work?’ Howie asked and nodded at the nuke.

‘No,’ Krakov said with a shrug and lifted his hands, and I thought that was that. But that wasn’t that. Not at all.

‘Nick? You’re up,’ Paula said.

‘Okay. Stop,’ Henry then said and pinched his nose. ‘Even Nick can’t know how to detonate a nuke.’

‘Do you know how to do it?’ Howie asked him.

‘Of course not! I’ve only ever seen our domestic warheads. Nothing like that thing at all. We don’t even know if it is a nuke.’

‘Oh, this is nuke. The North Koreans, they tell us,’ Elka said.

‘Yeah, cos they’re famous for their honesty,’ Frank said. But Elka fired back at him.

‘When they in different rooms, having fingers broken and feet being sets on fires, they all says same things.’

But Henry was still proper stressy about it all. ‘I’m sorry. What are you even thinking here, Howie?’ Even if it is a nuke, it has been designed to have a very precise launch sequence. And are you seriously considering detonating that thing in Winchester?’

But Howie wasn’t paying any attention to Henry. None of us were. We were too busy watching Nick run his hands over the thing and peer at this and that. It was like he was talking to himself, but buggered if I could hear what he was saying. Then he frowned and patted his pockets. ‘Got a flathead?’ he asked and looked at Tappy. ‘Gerber?’ she said and took a multitool from her pocket, and got the screwdriver thing out, and gave it to Nick, and he jabbed it at the nuke.

‘Fuck’s sake, don’t set it on fire,’ Blowers said.

‘One ferry,’ Nick said.

‘And the pub,’ Cookey said.

‘Are we sure this is that wise?’ Tilda asked as Nick got a secret panel thing open on the bomb.

‘We not see this,’ Krakov said like he was suddenly interested and went closer to peer over Nick’s shoulder. Which is pretty much what we all did, and we all saw the buttons and controls, and what looked like a cheap, shitty remote control for the TV with a crappy, old-style LCD screen. Nick was touching them all and murmuring, then pressed something, and all the little buttons lit up, and the shitty LCD screen was glowing.

‘Oh, you are so hot,’ Tappy said and gave him a fist bump.

‘Fair play, dipshit,’ Cookey said and did the same.

‘You’re still a bellend,’ Blowers said, and they all insulted him and gave him fist bumps, and it made me think they’re all really close mates, but it was impressive the way Nick did it, even though he is Lilly’s ex.

‘Can you detonate it?’ Howie asked him.

‘Okay, stop,’ Henry said.

‘Henry! This is a fucking game changer!’ Howie said and pointed at the bloody thing. ‘Stop sulking.’

‘I am not sulking!’ Henry snapped, but he said it like a man tells his wife when she’s nagging him, but Howie just made this sound and held his hands out. Like a funny, pleading expression.

‘Come on, Henry,’ Paula said.

‘We have no idea what this thing is,’ Henry said.

‘Is nuclear bomba!’ Elka said again.

‘The yield? The radius? How much enriched material is in it? Is the timer set? Does it even have a timer? What’s the launch sequence?’

‘It’s just an on and off,’ Nick said.

‘It’s a nuclear bomb, Nick!’ Henry said. ‘It’s not just going to have an on and off. What are all the other buttons for?’

‘Er, the numerical keypad is for the code.’

‘Do we even have the code?’ Henry asked.

‘Yeah, they’ve written in Sharpie on the inside of this panel.’

‘You are shitting me,’ Howie said.

‘It’s right there. That’s how I got it lit up,’ Nick said.

‘How? You can’t read,’ Blowers said.

‘It’s numbers. I can do numbers.’

‘In fairness, though,’ Carmen said, and it was weird because literally nearly everyone in the room then repeated it and said, In fairness, though. It must have been a private joke because even Henry had a tight smile. ‘It is North Korean,’ Carmen said as though that explained something. ‘And it can’t be that big. It’s taking them years to get enriched material for their own nukes. They’re not going to sell a lot of it, are they?’

‘No, that’s a fair point,’ Henry said, but he was quiet and thoughtful, and I was reckoning maybe he didn’t like the idea one bit, but then I clocked a weird, little gleam in his eyes. ‘Do you think you can arm it, Nick?’

‘I can probably work it out,’ Nick said and poked about, and tapped in the numbers and it went beep, but it was a dull, hard, angry beep, and the control panel flashed red, but he tried a few more times and kept getting the same response.

‘Don’t get locked out,’ Cookey said.

‘It’s not a Facebook password reset,’ Nick said.

‘No, fuckchops, but it says right there, two more attempts,’ Cookey said and pointed at the LCD screen.

‘Fuck! What part of me saying I can’t fucking read did you not hear, Cookey?’

‘I thought you saw it! It’s got numbers.’

‘I can see the numbers, but I can’t read the words with it.’

‘Don’t fucking blame me!’ Cookey said.

‘Okay, just. Everyone, be quiet,’ Henry ordered. ‘Two left. Do you think you can do it?’

‘Do what?’ Nick asked.

‘Arm the bomb, Nick!’ Henry said.

‘Er… Yeah. Sorry. Yes, Major. I had the sequence wrong. I think I need to press the green button, then put the code in, and then press the green button again.’

‘How do we even know that’s the code to use?’ Blowers asked. ‘It’s a fucking nuke. Some kid comes along and goes tappy tap, tap, and then what?’

‘Why would a kid be playing with a nuke?’ Nick asked.

‘We’re playing with a fucking nuke!’ Blowers said.

‘And in fairness,’ Elka said, then blinked when nearly everyone repeated it like singing the words. But I still didn’t know why. ‘Er. Is weird, but whatever. I think this is normal.’ Elka said and pointed at the bomb. ‘North Korea. They not make good things.’

‘Okay. Well, if you’re confident, Nick. We’ll give it a go.’

‘Give it a go?’ Tilda then asked.

‘I can try it now,’ Nick said. ‘We’ve got two attempts left.’

‘What if it doesn’t shut off, though?’ Paula asked. ‘Can you shut nuclear bombs down? How do they even work?’

We all looked at Nick like he should know, but he just shrugged. ‘I’m not the nuke guy. Ask Reggie.’

‘I would think there would be a fail-safe system or mechansim to abort arming the device,’ Reggie said. ‘But as Elka pointed out, this thing is decidedly, well, black market, for want of a better expression.’

‘But we don’t even know what the timer is,’ Paula said. ‘Oh, shit. Does it even have a timer? What if it’s like a suicide nuke?’

‘Oooh,’ Howie said and gave her a look. ‘I didn’t think of that.’

‘Al-Sayed used a lot of suicide bombers,’ Henry said.

‘Da. Yes. He do this,’ Krakov said. ‘And he is man of mind to suicide himself with a big bomba.’

‘Lilly,’ Tappy whispered across the room, ‘take that somewhere and try it.’

That got me angry, and I was about to say something, but Lilly just chuckled along with everyone else. ‘It does have a timer,’ she said. Which I thought was cool as anything because instead of getting cross, she was using her smarts.

‘How do you know that?’ Howie asked.

‘A suicide bomb would just have a trigger, wouldn’t it? And I would think that code is both the arming and de-arming code, hence, why it’s on that panel. Which appears, from here anyway, to be detachable. I would think the user puts the code in, sets the timer if it isn’t fixed, and then either sits with it or bugs out to a safe distance. And in answer to your question, Paula, nuclear weapons work by using explosives, such as a charge, that compress the nuclear material, be that uranium or plutonium, which thereby causes fission, which releases massive amounts of energy to reach a high temperature and the pressure needed to ignite fusion, and then – bang. There is more to it, such as the combinations of three particles and the use thereof, namely protons, neutrons, and electrons, but for this, I would think the arming sequence simply readies to ignite the explosive charge and commence the chemical changes.’

‘Now, that’s hot,’ I said, and we did our own fist bump.

‘How big is the bang?’ Howie asked her.

‘Hard to tell, Mr Howie. But one would assume this is, as Carmen so described, a tactical nuke rather than a strategic one. And if it was being supplied to a terrorist, and also given that North Korea would want to keep as much enriched source material for their own weapons, one would therefore assume the blast yield would be rather localised.’

‘We did this in history,’ Tamara then said. ‘They showed us pictures of the nukes they used in Japan, and like, the whole city was flattened.’

‘Those nukes were detonated in the air above the city,’ Carmen said.

‘And the buildings were mostly wooden construction,’ Henry said. ‘In a modern city, a well-constructed building could withstand the blast at a few hundred metres. Especially a tactical nuke.’

The weird thing was that straight after Henry said that, everyone looked to Lilly, who I think was now the nuke guy.

And of course, she knew the bloody answer. I actually thought later, and Lilly agreed, that Reginald probably knew all this, but as Lilly said, his intelligence is on another level even from hers, and he’s happy to be quiet and watch if things are going the way he wants. Reginald only really gets involved when he needs to push them in a direction. But anyway. So then Lilly carries on with her nuclear lesson.

‘Even a singular, large megaton nuke is unlikely to destroy a modern city. The building regulations are strict, and so you’d be surprised at how many would withstand the blast. The closest might be blown apart, but ones made from brick, concrete, or anything hard like that might get damaged but potentially not destroyed. And that means undestroyed buildings create walls, which then hamper the flow of the fireballs that immediately follow that initial blast. I think, from what we know, it might be safe to assume that this bomb will be extremely catastrophic to anything within the immediate vicinity. But the constructions further out, potentially as close as one to two hundred metres, may remain intact and therefore hamper the fireballs which expand out in all directions.’

‘What did she say?’ Howie asked as everyone looked at Charlie.

‘Anything close is dead. The immediate buildings will be damaged, possibly destroyed; any buildings further out at more than one to two hundred metres will likely be damaged but not destroyed. The fireball will move out in line of sight along the streets as it will be funnelled by the buildings.’

‘So it won’t kill them all then?’ Howie asked and looked back to Lilly.

‘No. Anything behind a wall or building two hundred metres away will most likely survive the initial blast. The heat and shock might kill people, but they are not people.’

‘What about the radiation?’ Paula asked.

‘That comes after,’ Lilly said. ‘Intense radiation kills very quickly, but the effects of it reduce as it weakens. It can still be deadly but perhaps not immediately. Also, radiation causes damage to our cells, but the infection we have replenishes our cells far faster than before. I couldn’t say we wouldn’t suffer any radiation damage, but we’d certainly have some protection.’

There was silence after that as we all absorbed it until Paula nodded slowly and exhaled for what seemed a long time.

‘You’re right,’ she said quietly to Howie. ‘She’ll run the world one day.’

Even Clarence agreed with that one. ‘She will,’ he said, and they all looked at Lilly standing there in silence.

‘How do you know this, Lilly?’ Reginald asked her.

‘I studied it for my A-Levels,’ Lilly told him. ‘Nuclear power and energy.’

‘But you’re sixteen,’ Paula said. ‘You don’t do A-levels until eighteen.’

‘I was fifteen. I’m sixteen now. I passed my GCSE’s at fourteen. I had already taken several A-Levels.’

‘Jesus,’ Charlie said. ‘How many A-Levels did you do?’

‘Six.’

‘They limit them to five for even the most advanced students,’ Charlie said.

‘I did six,’ Lilly said again.

‘How many did you do?’ Howie asked Charlie.

‘Five, but I struggled, so I dropped to four.’

‘Drink driving then, yeah?’ Howie said and gave Lilly another look. ‘Is Lilly right, Reggie?’

‘Yes, I would think she is,’ Reginald said.

‘Henry?’ Howie asked.

‘It does sound entirely feasible. Nobody here has any real experience of this.’

Howie even looked at Elka and Krakov, but they shrugged as though they had nothing to offer.

‘So, we put that bomb in Winchester and what?’ Paula asked. ‘It kills everything nearby, but the infected further out will most likely survive, is that right?’

‘Yes. Correct,’ Lilly said.

‘You cannot detonate a nuke,’ Tilda said.

‘Fucking watch me,’ Howie said. ‘Okay then. We detonate the nuke and then draw them north like Henry planned, and cut down whatever’s left. I’ll take my team in with the Saxon. We punch into the middle of them and put a ring around Nick, then we bug out and watch it go bang.’

‘Well. That’s one plan, Howie,’ Paula said. ‘Or maybe we could prep the ground in advance.’

‘How do you mean?’ Howie said.

‘Lilly just said the infected a few streets away won’t get killed if they’re behind buildings. So how about we use the C4 in that other room to knock a few buildings down and make the epicentre a bit more open-plan? Would that work?’

‘Oooh,’ Howie said. ‘I fucking like that. Will that work?’ he asked with a look to Henry, but it was Carmen that jumped in.

‘C4 placed on outer walls will blow holes, yes. It might not bring the buildings down, but the intent is to maximise the effective range of the fireballs, so they travel through the buildings.’

‘Means you taking some damage for a bit to lure them in and keep them busy while we set charges,’ Paula said to Howie. ‘But you can cope with that. Okay, so. Howie and his team go in hard and make a fuss to draw attention. Like at Gatwick.’

‘Same as Gatwick,’ Howie said at the same time, and I think it only really hit me then just how much of this they do. Like, we only saw the tail end at Hinchley Point, and we didn’t see Gatwick at all. It was weird hearing them plan it. It was fast too. I forgot to say that. The whole thing was fast. Like from the time they arrived at the fort to right then was about an hour. That’s all it was.

‘Frank and I can do the explosives,’ Carmen said. ‘Actually, no. We’ll need more than that. Okay, let me take Charlie. She worked with me at Hinchley Point, laying C4. Frank, you take Mads. He knows how to a set a charge. That’s two teams. I would say Dave and Mo but-.’

‘Howie will need them,’ Paula said as Carmen was already nodding.

‘Kyle then,’ Carmen said. ‘Has Lilly done C4?’ Carmen asked and looked at Lilly and me. ‘If she did six A-Levels, I think she can pick it up,’ Carmen said.

‘Aye. I’ll take Mary and Lilly,’ Kyle said. That’s three teams.’

‘I’m C4 trained,’ Kate Jonesy then said. ‘Give me someone to cover my six, and that’s four teams.’

‘Bashir was Afghan Special Forces,’ Henry said and spoke to Bashir in another language.

‘C4. Yes. I do,’ Bashir said and motioned to Jonesy. She said something to Bashir in his language, and he nodded and replied.

‘I was an instructor in Afghan,’ Jonesy said. ‘I know a few words. Roger that. Me and Bash will make up the fourth team.’

‘That’ll do it,’ Carmen said.

‘You said you have a drone?’ Paula asked and looked at Elka and Krakov.

‘Da.’ Elka said.

‘Radios?’ Howie asked.

‘Da. Everything.’

‘And we can just take it?’ Lilly asked. ‘All of this. We can just take it. And that nuclear bomb.’

‘He already said we could,’ Howie said.

‘Why?’ Lilly asked.

‘Why what?’ Howie asked her.

‘Why is Mr Krakov giving us his stockpile?’ Lilly asked.

‘To kill the fucking zombies!’ Howie said.

‘And what else?’ Lilly asked.

‘Lilly,’ I said quietly, but she was in no mind to heed me.

‘Mr Krakov is an arms dealer. What does he want?’

‘Men like Krakov don’t do anything for free,’ Henry said. ‘There is always a price.’

‘Why does there have to be a price?’ Howie asked. ‘Blowers isn’t doing this for a price. Nor am I.’

‘Yes, you are,’ Lilly said. ‘You have your objective, Mr Howie. And this stockpile makes Mr Krakov valuable. He has what the rest of us need.’

‘He said we can have it!’

‘For what?’ Lilly asked again and looked at Paula. ‘You were an accountant.’

‘And?’ Paula said, then sighed, and tutted. ‘She’s so fucking smart,’ she muttered at Howie.

‘Drink driving my fucking arse,’ Howie said in a quiet voice.

‘Okay. Fine. Yes, I was an accountant. People don’t give value away for free unless they’re either dying or having a breakdown, and Krakov looks very healthy to me. I’ll ask him. Do you want me to ask him? I mean, he’s standing right next to us listening to this entire conversation. So is Elka. Which means Lilly is probably right, and they want something because otherwise they would have said, No, no, just take it, really, it’s fine, by now.’

Paula and Howie, and the rest of us all looked at Elka and Krakov then, and they didn’t say, No, no, just take it, at all. They just smiled, which made Paula and Howie sigh again.

‘What do you want for it?’ Howie asked.

‘One of thems,’ Krakov said and pointed at Howie’s beret.

‘A pink beret? Seriously? We’ve got a whole box of them in the Saxon.’

‘Which we earned,’ Blowers then said in a hard voice, and I saw his team getting all funny.

‘Can’t just give them away, boss,’ Tappy said.

‘Nah, bro,’ Mo said and was shaking his head, and Danny was too.

‘We haven’t even earned ours yet,’ Tamara said.

Krakov smiled and winked. ‘Now you have something of values, Mister Howies.’

‘We also want a place at the table,’ Elka said.

‘There it is,’ Henry said.

‘What table?’ Howie asked. ‘The only table we use is in the offices in the fort, and it’s covered in grenade marks and coffee. Mostly coffee.’

‘They want a say,’ Henry said like he knew all along they were being sneaky shits.

‘A say in what?’ Howie asked. ‘We cull the numbers, then we get the Panacea out.’

That did it. Let me tell you that. I could see Krakov and Elka’s bright blue eyes popping when Howie said Panacea.

‘Is true?’ Krakov said.

‘Jesus, Howie,’ Henry said as though telling Howie to stop talking, which was having about as much effect as me telling Lilly to stop talking, and you know what? Despite them being literally opposite of each other, Mr Howie and Lilly are very similar in a lot of ways.

‘Get over it, Henry. Everyone knows. Yes, it’s true. We’ve probably already got it. Some of you might have it. You both look healthy as anything.’

‘Elka’s glowing,’ Marcy said.

‘There you go then,’ Howie said. ‘Charlie has this whole theory about apples and how a vaccine could have spread way before the outbreak.’

‘The apples were just an example,’ Charlie said. ‘It could have been grapes. Or any fruit really. Or vegetables. I mean, I only did four A-Levels, so you know, ask someone who did six.’

‘Does that bother you?’ I asked Charlie.

‘I am so competitive,’ she told me. ‘And she’s got both of her ears.’

‘Ach. That half an ear just makes you look more fetching, Charlie,’ I told her and got a hard look from Lilly. ‘Well, it does! She’s an attractive woman, so she is. And the scars only add to it. Anyway. Let’s get to it. What exactly do you want, Mr Krakov and Elka? Do you want the Panacea when they get it? If that’s the deal you need, I can make that with you. I’ll get that Panacea to your people. I give you my word on that, and I never break my word. The father is here, and he’ll hold me to account, so he will.’

‘Aye. A deal is a deal,’ Kyle said. ‘If that’s what you want, we’ll get it to you when Mr Howie finds it.’

‘I think what my father wants is a place at the tables,’ Elka said.

‘Fuck me. We’re in a loop,’ Howie said.

‘I think they mean they want to come with us?’ Paula said. ‘Is that right?’

‘Da,’ Elka said.

‘Is that it?’ Howie asked as if it had been a whole lot of bother over nothing.

‘To Winchester?’ Paula asked. ‘Because we’re culling before we go for the Panacea. At least, I think we’re back on that plan now. Are we?’

‘For now, at least,’ Reginald said, and he had some meaning as they all looked at Howie, but I don’t know what that meant.

‘So is that it then?’ Paula asked Krakov and his daughter. ‘You want to work with us, and in exchange, we can use your supplies. Yes? Deal?’

‘And we have voting rights,’ Elka said as I realised she did the proper talking for Krakov.

‘Voting? You think we vote?’ Paula asked as some of the lads laughed. ‘We don’t vote, love. What we just did is what happens. That is literally it. We muddle through and wing it, and make it up as we go, and if you have an idea or you want to say something, then you just bloody well jump in and say it. That’s how we work. And none of us have to stay either. Howie and I are very firm about that. Anyone can leave when they want.’

‘Henry has no vote?’ Elka asked.

‘Henry has a voice and experience, and we listen to him,’ Paula said.

Elka thought for a second. ‘We give weapons. We help. Our peoples will fight, but when finish and Panacea is out, we want-.’

‘Please don’t say a place at the table,’ Howie cut in. ‘Listen, I’m not here for that. You make that deal with Lilly and Henry. Not me. I’m here to cull the numbers, then I am finding the people that started this and-.’

‘Howie!’ Henry said quickly to stop him talking, but it did no good.

‘And I am going to kill them,’ Howie said as Henry tutted. ‘I don’t care who knows, Henry!’

‘And if they hear it and know?’ Henry asked.

‘Good. I want them to fucking know. Fuck them! I hope they know what shit storm is coming their way. Anyway. That’s why we’re doing this,’ Howie told Elka and Krakov. ‘You make a deal with Lilly and Henry and do what you want.’

‘That would be Captain Shaw you’d need to speak to,’ I said before Lilly could try and say something stupid.

Elka and Krakov then whispered to each other, and Krakov smiled and held his massive hand out for Howie. ‘Deals, Mister Howies!’

‘I have no idea what we just agreed to,’ Howie said. ‘And I don’t give a shit. We good, though? Can we get on?’

‘And I fight, and you gives me pink berry!’

‘After us!’ Tamara said, and she got a big arm around her shoulder from Krakov, and Paula was clapping her hands and calling out, and everyone started moving about and getting to it.

But me?

I didn’t trust none of them.

At least I was getting to stay with Lilly and Kyle, though.

That was something I suppose.

But it was still shite.

8

Winchester

My name is Sophie Addison, and I thought I’d write this down, so if anyone finds it, they know what happened to us. But I don’t think that will happen. Everyone else is either dead or a zombie infected person. Dr Jev said they’re not zombies, but that’s what we call them. So really there isn’t much point writing it down, but didn’t they find like old explorer’s notes and things from people that had been dead for like ages and ages, so maybe it can’t hurt. And it beats sitting still and doing nothing. I’m not a sitting still kind of person. My nan said I had ants in my pants. That used to make me laugh. I just whispered it to Samy cos he’s a fidgeter too. He thought it was funny. Then Bev told us to be quiet, so the zombies don’t hear where we are.

We normally put water down to hide our scent trails. But it’s raining so much we didn’t do that. Me and Mike normally do it cos we go out on patrols, which is cos we can both run fast for a long time. That’s weird, though. I did cross-country running in school, then I never did any fitness for ages after that, and Mike was a drunk, homeless man, and I know he was in the army, but he couldn’t even walk straight. We used to see him crashed out on benches and in doorways, and sometimes drunk lads would pee on him. Now though, we can both run for miles. Dr Jev said that’s cos we’re infected with something like the zombies have, but it’s different in us. It’s made Livvy like super strong, and Samy’s bird Thor is like the size of an Eagle or something, and Samy can see through Thor’s eyes, and Debs has become like crazy hot and sexy. Her hair! Oh, my god, I want her hair. It’s so thick and black. And Kev lost loads of weight, and he’s all beefy and macho now, and Bev is just amazing. Like super smart and always knows what to do. I don’t know if the zombie thing did anything for Craigy, though. He’s less annoying than he was, so maybe that’s it. He was such a know-it-all and was always telling people how to communicate and whatever. He is kind, though, and he fancies Debs something awful. And then there is Jev Patel. He’s our doc. He’s like, oh my god, sooooo smart. Literally the smartest person ever.

I guess the only other one I know this zombie thing changed is Elaine Sotheby. She is one of them. She said she is in the true state of being a zombie or something. She was like, ‘Come and join me, and it’s cool, and it doesn’t hurt, and we all love each other.’ But they drool all the time, and they don’t brush their teeth or their hair, and they smell weird, and they’ve all got creepy, red eyes, and you know, they eat people.

Elaine wants to kill Samy. She said she doesn’t know why. Jev said the infection thing in Elaine must recognise or detect that Samy poses a threat, and he said that means there is some kind of genetic hard coding, but the infection thing is parasitic, and it doesn’t have a brain, so how can it have pre-formed genetic coding? I didn’t know what that meant. Jev said that nearly all creatures on the planet have genetic coding. Dogs kept in domestic houses will still walk around and around in a circle to trample grass to make a bed, even though they sleep on carpets, and he said that’s because wild dogs did that for tens of thousands of years or hundreds of thousands, and it forms a genetic hard wiring which is passed on. Like foxes in Britain and other animals know to be scared of people and other things. And everything knows to be scared of snakes and spiders. Even Mike said he’s scared of spiders. He said they had camel spiders as big as hands in the desert, and they used to put them on each other’s heads when they slept for a laugh. I said I would literally die if anyone did that to me. Bev said she’d literally shoot anyone that did it to her. Livvy said she’d probably keep the spider as a pet because she’s not scared of them.

Yeah. So Elaine, then. She’s the one making all the zombies come and find us, and we could have left, but Samy said we had to stay here. He said if we go, then everyone else will die. We didn’t understand that, but it’s like impossible not to do what Samy wants. He’s not bossy or anything. He’s really kind and gentle, and very loving, and he gives literally the best cuddles ever. Even Livvy gives him a hug, and she hates huggers.

Elaine looks better though. She was really spotty and fat before. I don’t mean that in a judgy way, but she was. She was on benefits and scammed everyone, and wouldn’t work, and she wasn’t nice. I don’t like saying that about someone, but she’s slim now and seems smart, you know, apart from being like totally evil.

I guess none of this will really make sense to anyone. Seven people and one big pigeon locked themselves in The Great Hall place with The Round Table when they could have left, and they don’t know why, but they only did it cos a blind child told them to, after he’d been saved by a drunk, homeless guy.

Yeah. I wouldn’t understand that either. Craig said people are good at reading subtext, though. I said I couldn’t ever really keep up when they put the subtext on movies. I can read, but sometimes it was too fast. It’s better now, though. Maybe that’s from the zombie infection thing too. Maybe I’m also a bit smarter. I think if the infection thing let me choose what I could be like what could be better, I mean, I would choose being nice and kind rather than smart. I like it when people feel happy. I don’t like it now because we’re all worried and quiet. We normally joke around and have bants. (Livvy hates it when I call it bants. She said it’s on her top five c*nt word list.) But we’re not allowed to make noise, so we’re sitting in literally near pitch dark. I’m writing this using a tiny light, with a blanket over me. It’s got cold too. I thought that was because we’re sitting still and this hall is big and made of stone, but I think it has got a lot colder.

I don’t know what will happen now.

I think we’ll probably die.

Mike and me saw thousands of the zombie things around the city, and Elaine is smart now. She is making them close in on all sides, so we can’t run off. She doesn’t know where we are, but she’ll find us. It won’t be that hard.

So yeah. I think maybe by morning we’ll be dead. I don’t know how I feel about that. Sad, obviously. I don’t want to die. I don’t want my friends to die either. And it’s hard because we don’t really know what we are dying for. But everything Samy has said has been true, and so I guess we have to have faith. I do have faith in him. That doesn’t mean we can’t be scared, though. And it doesn’t mean we can’t fight back when they do find us. We’ll take a lot down with us. We’ve got some gas bottles, and we made some nail bombs, and we’ve got petrol and stuff, and guns, and weapons. But we know we can’t fight that many.

We can hear them now.

They’re getting closer.

I’ll stop writing now. My hand is cold.

But so, if anyone finds this later, we did what we could.

Sophie Addison x

9

Diary of Charlotte Doyle

It was all happening fast. But then, what choice did we have? We all knew there was a very large horde of infected in Winchester, and our fear was that if they moved out before we could get there, we’d lose the tactical advantage of being able to cull mass numbers in one place, and it would most likely negate the use of the nuke.

So, yes. The pace was very frantic. I can’t stress that enough. We didn’t even have time to get changed into the new clothes they had.

We just got pulled over to one side. That being myself and Mads, Lilly, Mary, Jonesy, and Bash.

Carmen issued our unit with Colt C8 carbine rifles, which had been specially designed for CQB – or close quarter battles. They are shorter than normal assault rifles, which makes them easier to handle. They were also fitted with suppressors, which I later realised are not like in the movies at all. They still go bang and rather loudly too, but the sound isn’t as sharp, which makes it harder to pinpoint the exact source. The suppressors also reduced muzzle flash, which would be important for us.

Henry also took a C8 rifle, and I noticed he gave one to Paula. Everyone else was issued with an AK-47. Big, black metal and wooden things, just like from the movies and TV shows.

But for our unit, we were each given a tac-vest, and Carmen and Frank showed us how to fit magazines in. We were also issued knee and elbow pads. Then came the helmets, which were not the big, bulky NATO styles. The sides were cutaway. They had clips on the top for night vision goggles to be fitted that could be pushed up or pulled down; likewise, they also had over-the-ear headphone on one side with a microphone boom stick. Carmen, Frank, and Kyle showed us how to fit them. Jonesy seemed unfamiliar with some of the kit, but Bash, who I noticed was very familiar with it all, showed her.

Then we got rushed into the firing range, where we put a few rounds into the end sandbag wall and got drilled on magazine changing and clearing blockages. We were given sidearms and holsters, which we all knew how to use.

Literally a few minutes later, we got rushed out, so Blowers could put his squad through familiarity with the AK-47 assault rifles, which, I immediately noticed, were far louder than ours.

I shared a quick look with Cookey. Things were still strained and awkward, and I guess we both had things we wanted to say, but we didn’t have time.

Cookey was on the range, and Carmen and Frank were instructing us on the principles of using C4. Mads and I had already used it in Hinchley Point, so we were familiar with the process of placing the charge and attaching the ignition.

Even while that was happening, the plan was still being formulated, and I was glad to see Henry had finally decided to be a part of it all.

Carmen never said anything about Henry jumping back in to help plan it all. She’s too professional for that, but I think she was as relieved as the rest of us.

To be honest, it was all so fast that I didn’t get chance to reflect on not having Jess with me. Henry was right, though. Taking Jess into such a thing would not have been appropriate.

I was also very excited at working with Carmen. I relished the extra attention and training I was getting from her. She had already given me a lot of training for hand-to-hand combat techniques against actual people, as opposed to fighting infected.

I also didn’t get a chance to speak to Lilly or Mary. Again, that wasn’t intentional, but we all helped each other get ready.

Straight after that, we were grabbing ammunition crates and running relays up the steps to a side door and out into the rain to see someone had brought the Saxon and the Royal Mail van, and the armoured bus up to the house.

‘We’ll use the Royal Mail as our supply vehicle,’ Henry called, and I was glad he was back in leadership mode. ‘The Saxon is our forward fighting vehicle. The bus is in reserve for when it goes south. Which it always does!’

A moment later, we heard an engine approach and saw a big, old Russian army-style truck coming towards us. It had six big wheels and was high and long.

‘All armoured,’ Krakov said and slapped the front; then he walked the length to the rear and motioned us to come see. He mounted some steps at the back and opened the rear door to show us the interior. ‘Is Russian. Not luxury. Da!’ he said and laughed again. ‘But is good!’

‘Good? I bloody love it,’ Paula said and was up and inside faster than anything to look at the multiple screens fitted into one wall over the top of a desk. Two cushioned seats side by side. Another single desk behind with another seat. Then a set of bench seats further along with a foldout table.

‘Is command and surveillance centre,’ Elka said and opened a compartment fitted on the outside, where they had quadcopter military spec drones stored. Nick said they were good, but obviously not as good as his one. Which we still needed to get back before we set the nuke off.

‘Are we taking this too?’ Henry asked them and clearly meant the command vehicle.

‘Yes. We will bring it with us,’ Elka said.

‘You’re coming?’ Paula asked them.

‘Da! Yes!’ Krakov said. ‘We come. We fight! Is not just your war.’

They couldn’t really argue with that logic; besides, I could see Henry, Paula, and Reginald were all very impressed with the command vehicle.

‘But we have a deal,’ Elka then said. ‘When cull is over, we have place at table.’

‘To be discussed,’ Henry said and made to turn away.

‘No,’ Elka said and shook her head.

‘We have no idea what the world looks like after this!’ Henry snapped.

‘Then we shape together,’ Elka said and held her hand out. ‘We have equal say.’

‘Fine. If that’s what it takes,’ Henry said and shook her hand, and Krakov’s, but he didn’t look happy at all.

‘Do not cross my father,’ Elka told him quietly.

‘And I strongly suggest you don’t cross us or ever get in Howie’s way,’ Henry said with his own threat as they dropped hands and turned away. ‘Okay! We’re shaping plans on the hop. Paula, with me and Reginald in the command vehicle. Marcy, I need you to drive the armoured bus with the explosives teams. Ali and Tam in with Marcy. Bibi and Johnny, you’re getting bumped up into the A-Team under Sergeant Blowers.’

‘Fuck yes!’ Bibi said and high-fived Johnny as Henry carried on giving his orders.

‘Roy, in the supply van. Tilda, jump in with Roy, please, in case he’s needed, so we have a second driver. Tappy! You’re on point in the Saxon. Our objective is… Lads! Listen in! Johnny! Bibi! I’ll bump you down to D-Team toilet cleaning.’

‘Lads,’ Blowers said and gave them a look.

‘S…S…Sorry!’

‘Sorry!’

‘Our first objective is to get closer to Winchester to put a surveillance drone up and make the final preparations. Tappy, find us an FCP about a mile or so out of the city. Can you do that?’

‘Yeah, deffo! I mean, er, roger, affirmative, Major! But um, what’s an FCP?’

‘Forward Control Point,’ Blowers said.

‘Well done!’ Henry called. ‘Any questions, speak to your unit leaders. Sergeant Blowers or Sergeant Eze.’

‘I’m not a sergeant,’ Carmen said.

‘Yeah, I wasn’t either,’ Blowers said and gave her a middle finger, which she returned in kind.

‘Sorry. Hang on,’ Carmen then said. ‘Who is going with Reginald in the command vehicle?’

‘I am, with Paula,’ Henry said.

‘Who else?’ Carmen asked.

‘My father,’ Elka said.

‘Can he fight? I mean, like, can he fight?’

‘My father?’ Elka asked with a smile. ‘Yes. He can fight.’

‘Well, you tell him to watch my Reggie.’

‘Bless, Carmen. You are my dear friend!’ Reginald called from the command vehicle. ‘But I think I shall be very safe.’

‘Oh. You are in love, no?’ Elka asked with a smile at Carmen. She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. It was obvious to everyone apart from Reginald.

‘Well. That’s it!’ Henry then called. ‘Mr Howie, give the order, please.’

‘Load up! We’re moving out!’ Howie shouted as we all made for our vehicles, which, I must say, despite feeling very tired and grimy, was very cool seeing as a lot of the people living in the big house had come out to watch us make ready, so I’m sure I wasn’t the only one feeling somewhat heroic.

Which was then dashed by Paula yelling from the back of the command vehicle, ‘Bloody idiots! Where’s the nuke?’

‘I thought you had it!’ Howie shouted from the Saxon.

‘Why would I have it?’

‘Well, why would I have it?’ Howie shouted back.

‘Because you’re bloody detonating it!’ Paula yelled.

‘Did you seriously just ask that, Howie?’ Marcy shouted from the bus. ‘Nick should have got it!’

‘I’m not the nuke guy!’ Nick then yelled.

‘Lilly is!’ Tappy shouted.

‘Well, Nick and Lilly can go and bloody get it then!’ Paula said.

Which, obviously, wasn’t the best order to give.

‘Over my dead body!’ Tappy shouted and jumped out of the Saxon. ‘I’ll bloody get it,’ she said as Mary jumped out of the bus and shouted the same thing.

Which was then just as weird as they both eyed each other.

‘Just get the bloody nuke!’ Paula yelled, and they both ran off, which, like I said, was really weird, but they came back with it and shoved the thing in the Saxon.

‘Right. Now you can tell Howie to give the order,’ Paula told Henry.

‘Why are you telling Henry to tell Howie?’ Marcy shouted. ‘You just bloody say it!’

‘Piss off, Marcy!’ Paula shouted.

‘You piss off! And load up. We’re moving out!’ Marcy yelled as Paula slammed the command vehicle door and Marcy yanked the lever to close the bus door. But a second later, she swore and huffed, and opened it back up just as Paula opened the command vehicle door. ‘Love you, Paula!’

‘Love you too, Marcy!’ Paula yelled; then they closed the doors again.

‘Ye all fecking nuts,’ I heard Mary mutter as the engines fired up and we readied to get underway.

‘Ach. Well. At least Henry is back in the game,’ Kyle said. ‘And any plan is better than no plan.’

‘Always,’ Carmen said.

‘One word. Mogadishu. Fuck off.’

We all groaned at Frank. Even Mary. Lilly didn’t. But then apparently she’s got six A-Levels, and I’ve only got four, and she did hers two or three years earlier, and apparently she’s an expert on nukes.

Whatever.

I can ride a horse.

‘Can you ride a horse?’ I asked her.

‘I played competitive polo,’ she replied.

Of course, she did.

Why wouldn’t she.

I huffed, and the bus jolted forward, and we started moving to enact our plan.

But by then we should have known that no plan of ours actually ever works.

10

Elaine Sotheby comes to a stop next to the Memorial of the Plague on the roundabout at the top of the High Street. A junction of three roads.

The quadrant of council buildings to her left. The police HQ building in sight beyond it.

The High Street running to the left down to the Buttercross Monument and along to the Guildhall, where she was supposed to marry Todd.

Fuck Todd.

Romsey Road to the right, leading away from the city centre to the army museums, where she fought against Mike and Bev, and their small group.

Fuck them too.

Castle Avenue dead ahead. A misnomer because it isn’t an avenue at all. It leads straight to The Great Hall, with the modern constructed but made-to-look-old council buildings flanking both sides. But then Castle Avenue does give access to the three-tiered plazas that lead to Trafalgar Street, so perhaps it isn’t a misnomer. Although to be precise, the word avenue is defined as being a wide street or thoroughfare, which Castle Avenue certainly is, but the more modern definition suggests an avenue is lined by trees or shrubs, which Castle Avenue is not.

Those thoughts flit through Elaine Sotheby’s mind in an instant as she comes to a stop in the pouring rain and considers that only a short while ago, she couldn’t tell the difference between a street, road, avenue, cycling lane, or anything else. And she wouldn’t be able to spell the word misnomer, let alone use it in any form of context.

Nor is the irony of being immediately next to the plague monument lost either. She even snorts a dry laugh at the surreal nature of it all from knowing that back in 1666, Winchester suffered horribly from the plague, so much so that traders wouldn’t go beyond this point and pass through the Westgate entrance into the city proper for fear of catching it.

Townsfolk would leave coins in this spot for the goods left by traders. They’d even put the coins in bowls of vinegar to prevent contamination.

Which is the thing that makes her snort, because there is a bowl of coins at the base of the monument now, and she doesn’t need to sniff it to know it’s vinegar. She assumes doctor Jevram Patel left it. Or possibly Craig. He seemed intellectual. A last-minute offering perhaps. An attempt to dissuade her from following this course of conduct.

It’s too late for that. The plague is here and upon them, but this plague is different to the last. This plague is here to cleanse the world from what was and to herald in the true state of being.

So fuck the bowl and the coins. She kicks it over and banishes it from her mind. A mind now so much more powerful than it was, and as the rain lashes her face, she looks ahead to the town centre, knowing the child is there. Somewhere. She can almost feel his presence. She hates him, still without knowing why.

She exhales and doesn’t notice her breath misting from the drop in temperature. She doesn’t shiver or feel the cold either. What she has inside of her protects her from that.

As it does to the tens of thousands of her hosts stretched out behind her to the train station and beyond and along Castle Avenue, and through the tiered plazas, and all along Trafalgar Street, and down along the High Street to the bridge that was destroyed, and the river now overflowing and running fast like white water rapids.

Out beyond the cathedral and all through the grounds of the army museums. In every side street and alley. In every direction.

The whole of the city now occupied by her hosts.

A plague indeed. A very great and awful plague that once more visits upon the city as one hundred thousand once human forms exhale with their breaths misting into the cold, wet air.

One hundred and forty-five metres from Elaine, nine other people sit in a close circle in the near pitch-dark, wrapped in blankets and listening in silence to the infected moving around them in all directions.

Samy’s thumb gently stroking Thor’s head, but to the bird and, by proxy, the boy the room is not dark. The bird can see spectrums of light not visible to the human eye, but they can all still hear the infected beyond the walls. In front and behind. Feet scuffing. Bodies moving. A few ragged breaths. Sinister. Foreboding.

Olivia grunts. Wishing they’d just attack and get it over with. She hates this waiting. She wants to fight. She loves to fight. She runs the plan through her mind again. Once the infected find them, which they will; then they get Samy up the scaffolding onto the roof, then the others go up, and they tip the scaffolding from the top and try, and kill as many as they can before they get swarmed.

But that means waiting.

In the dark and in the silence as outside a great and awful plague is visited upon the city.

There’s no hope now. No escape. The end is ordained, so they hold hands and breathe out as the air grows colder around them.

Just over one mile to the east of Elaine and The Great Hall, a small convoy of vehicles exits the M3 motorway.

Lakes of water dotted all around them. Vast pools of water that form new streams and rivers that flow into one another. A changed landscape from what was.

The Saxon leads the way, and truth be told, Tappy isn’t even sure herself how she finds the routes they need.

She slows as she exits the motorway and takes the convoy onto the slip road. Easing around the back end of a chemical truck abandoned by the car wash garage, then onto to Easton Lane that runs through the Winnall Industrial Estate just one kilometre northeast of Winchester City. A busy complex of large industrial units and office blocks.

‘Saxon to Command. Final approach. Repeat. Final approach to FCP,’ Howie transmits. Leaning over the seats to see through the windscreen. Clarence up front. His bulk too big for the packed rear section.

A junction ahead on the right, leading into a large parking area between long rows of industrial units.

‘Go in there,’ Howie says as Tappy takes the turn, with the convoy following behind. ‘Everyone, hold until we’ve checked it,’ Howie transmits.

A nod from Blowers. The back doors open, and they drop out into the rain without noticing the drop in temperature. Rifles up and aimed as they range out to check doors and windows. Entry and exit points. Noting the parking area is big and on a slight slope, so the rainwater runs off.

Commercial units on both sides. A high metal security fence at the rear. Those things make it a good compound so far.

The bus comes to a stop. The door opens. Carmen and Frank drop out with their teams behind them. Night vision goggles on. Assault rifles up and braced as they sweep out to assist in the clearance and checking.

A hand signal from Clarence tells them to go forward towards the western edge. They range out in a line. Checking the country store building and clocking the small, detached building housing a veterinary hospital beyond it. The same high, thick metal fencing on the sides and at the front.

All of it secure. No signs of looting. No signs of infected. No reaction from Meredith. Nothing from Mo.

Carmen, Frank, and Kyle lead them back as Howie, Blowers, and the others finish their checks. Thumbs up all around. All clear.

‘We’re secure,’ Clarence says into the radio. His voice low and muted.

The command vehicle comes in. Driven by one of Krakov’s men, who knew to hold back for risk of committing them all to a dangerous point. The same with Roy, who drove forward to scope the nearby area. Checking the fire station opposite and the road leading west into the city.

Tilda in the front with him. Both grim faced. Tilda because of what they’re doing. Roy because he’s got a twinge in his neck, which must be neck cancer. But then he’s infected. He can’t get sick. But what if the infection allows for one type of illness? Oh, god. He’s totally got that. Whatever it is.

They drive into the new compound and drop out into the rain. Light spills from the open door of the command vehicle. Paula inside at the desk. Reginald at another. Henry in the doorway, watching as one of Krakov’s men takes a drone out from the compartment and sets it on the ground, and turns it on.

Some confusion and muted voices as they struggle to sync the camera feed to the drone.

‘Just get Nick,’ Paula says as Henry calls him over.

‘I don’t know what we’d do without you,’ Henry says, patting Nick on the shoulder as he squeezes in and presses things on the control panels. Then he drops out and checks the drone and the other drones, and the settings on each of them.

‘That’s it!’ Paula says as the screen in front comes to life with a close-up view of the ground beneath it.

‘You got it, Nick,’ Henry says.

‘They’re all synced,’ Nick says as Krakov slaps his shoulder hard enough to make the lad fly forward.

‘What wrong?’ Elka asks, frowning at Roy as he gropes and paws at his own neck.

‘Nothing. Doesn’t matter.’

‘What?’ she asks with a shake of her head that sends drops of rain flying from her hair.

Roy huffs and looks for Paula, but she’s busy, and Howie is talking to his team, and Carmen is busy, and Tilda has gone over to Ali and Tam, and Marcy.

‘Why do this?’ Elka asks at Roy’s hand feeling his neck. ‘Is something? You feels?’

‘No. I don’t know. I get… I mean. I suffer with…’

‘Stop. Stop hands,’ she says and slings her Dragunov rifle to push his hands down, and touches his neck. ‘You feel somethings?’

‘I don’t know. Can you?’

‘Nyet. Is nothings.’

‘No lumps?’

‘Lumps?’

‘Like tumours?’

‘Tumours? You have tumours?’

‘Oh god, don’t say that! Can you feel one?’

‘Oh!’ she says in sudden understanding, then nods, and smiles at him. ‘Is fines. I understands. Let me feels. No lumps here on the sides. No lumps around here. Nothing at the back. I check your head? Da? Drop it down,’ she says and feels his skull, then down to his shoulders, and along to his arms. ‘Da! Nothings. Is all goods.’

A blast of relief from Roy. The true anxiety in his eyes slowly easing away. ‘My father sometimes has this,’ she whispers at Roy.

‘Really?’

‘Da. But no tells him I said this. Is very normals.’

‘I’ve had it for years. I bloody hate it.’

‘Why? Is you. Don’t hate who you are. All the peoples know of Roy with his bow. He helps women have babies.’

‘Well. Thank you.’

‘You know what else they says?’

‘What?’

‘Roy five times, da?’ she says with a delighted laugh.

‘Five times?’ Roy asks.

‘Da! Yes. Five times,’ she says with a slow mock wink.

‘Oh, god! Do you mean sex? Do they say that? Oh, god, that’s so embarrassing.’

‘Is true, though? Five times?’

‘Well. I mean. It’s not untrue,’ Roy says as the lads look over from the end of the Saxon.

‘How. The. Fuck?’ Blowers asks, shaking his head at Elka groping Roy’s neck and body, then laughing, and making eyes at him. ‘Isn’t he with Anika?’

‘He just talks about ales and Agincourt,’ Cookey says.

‘Noooo. Roy’s very charming,’ Tappy says as they all give her a look. ‘What? He is!’

‘He is actually. Although he is also a completely annoying twat, but I’d say that to his face, so it’s not slagging him off,’ Marcy says. ‘But he is handsome, though. And he’s super ripped. And he’s like, so unaware of it, and that’s kinda hot.’

‘Is kinda hot,’ Tappy says.

‘That is kinda hot,’ Tamara says.

‘What is?’ Charlie asks.

‘Roy being shredded and not being aware,’ Tappy says.

‘Er, I mean, I guess so, but not my type.’

‘Oh, that’s low hanging fruit,’ Tappy says. ‘So who is then, Charlie?’

‘Oh, god, not this again,’ Charlie says. ‘Screw you all. I’m going back to my team.’

‘With Mads, yeah?’ Tappy asks with a laugh. ‘Oh, Cookey! I’m joking. Your face.’

Charlie glances back quickly to see, then instantly berates herself for even caring, and walks off.

‘What they all on about?’ Maddox asks her.

‘Discussing if Roy’s hot,’ Charlie says as they all look over to Roy.

‘I mean. He is quite charming,’ Carmen says. ‘But he’s the wrong type of nerd for me.’

‘Elka’s hot though,’ Mary says, then clocks the look from Lilly.

‘And you said you weren’t gay.’

‘I said I might be a little bit gay,’ Mary replies.

‘Do you fancy men at all?’ Charlie asks her.

‘No. Not one bit.’

‘Right. Well. You might be more than a little bit gay then.’

‘And I think I’ll be taking small steps on the whole sexuality exploration if none of ye’s mind, so for now, I’ll be saying I’m only a little bit gay. And what are we waiting for anyway?’

‘For Paula and Henry to get ready,’ Lilly says as they look across to Paula in the command vehicle familiarising herself with the controls to fly the drone. Reginald doing the same in the next seat along at his own set of controls.

‘Look at him! He’s such a player,’ Paula says, shaking her head at Roy and Elka flirting outside. ‘Isn’t he with Anika now?’

‘Focus, Paula,’ Reginald murmurs.

‘Er, thank you! I don’t need to be told to focus. You bloody well tell Roy and Elka to focus. That’s who needs to focus. Look at her! She’s all over him.’

‘Who is?’ Clarence asks, looming in the door.

‘Nothing!’ she says quickly. ‘So, yes, these controls then. Great.’

‘Are we ready?’ Clarence asks.

‘I don’t know. Ask Roy and whatserface,’ Paula mutters.

‘Pardon?’ Clarence asks.

‘Yes. I think we are almost ready,’ Reginald says. ‘And I think we can put two drones up at once if we need it. I say, though, Paula. Shall I fly it, and you monitor the monitors? Is that drone clear to launch, Clarence?’

‘It is,’ Clarence says, glancing over.

‘Henry?’ Reginald asks.

‘Yes, carry on and launch,’ Henry says as Reginald thumbs one stick forward to apply lift, and the quadcopter whirs louder and rises smoothly into the air with an instant view of the parking area below.

‘It’s showing lights,’ Clarence says, squinting up at it. ‘Red, flashing lights. Can you turn them off?’

‘Privet! Hallo! I am Sergei,’ a thin, young man says as he clambers inside the command vehicle.

‘Where did you come from?’ Paula asks.

‘I drive truck and switch power to auxiliary. Now I fly drones. Yes?’

‘Ooh, is he a drone pilot?’ Paula asks and slides out for him to take over and watches as he flicks a switch to alter control over the drone to the sticks in front of him.

‘Up and downs,’ he says and glides the drone higher and lower. ‘Left and rights, and this makes it turn, and this makes lights go off… And then this button changes camera.’

‘Oh, that’s good!’ Paula says as the feed changes to thermal imaging black and white night vision, with the figures below now white silhouettes.

‘Da. Is good, but no see structures like this. So we cycle through,’ Sergei says, and the feed switches to a green screen ultraviolet view that shows the units and landscape a bit clearer, and the people below now glowing yellows and red.

‘What’s the delay?’ Howie asks at the back door.

‘We’re learning the drone from Sergei,’ Paula says.

‘Learn as we go. We need to move. Sergei? Hi. I’m Howie. Can you get that thing going?’

‘Da. Yes.’

‘Good. Follow this road into the city. We need to get the C4 teams in, then us… And we need to find the middle of the fuckers.’

‘Sergei is goods,’ Krakov says, pushing in next to Howie. ‘Best drone pilots in all of this street. Or maybe just that chair.’

Sergei rolls his eyes. A familiarity between them that confuses Henry because he’d only ever known Krakov as a monster that sold weapons to the highest bidder, or who put children and women into containers. He was feared and hated, but his people clearly adore him, and Krakov doesn’t even seem to mind his daughter flirting with Roy. A sudden and weird sensation inside of Henry. A feeling somewhat how Howie felt earlier with one foot in either world. The old and the new, but unlike Howie and unlike Carmen, Henry still can’t choose which direction to take.

The rest crowd around the door to try and see the screen inside. Whispering about this and that. Gossip and rumour. A feeling of exhilaration in most of them. A sense of dread in some.

A sense of pressure in a few.

Pressure unrelenting.

A need inside to be there now. Killing them. Destroying them. Putting them down, and so, from all those things, none of them notice their breath misting or the air growing colder.

Sergei keeps the feed on green screen night vision as he follows Easton Lane until it bends towards the city. ‘Roy?’ Howie calls, nodding at him to break away from chatting with Elka. They both come over, with Roy blinking at the feed. ‘Do you know the city?’

‘Yeah, quite well,’ Roy says. ‘Did a lot of archery here. Oh, shit. Look at that. Is that the river? Yeah, okay, that’s the River Itchen. It runs around the city centre, and that is very high. It’s overflowing, which might mean some of the bridges aren’t usable. Can you follow the river first?’

‘Da. Of course!’ Sergei says, gliding the drone to follow the river below. All of them able to see the fast-flowing waters clearly. ‘Top tip! Don’t fall in that. You go far, far aways,’ Sergei says.

‘There!’ Paula says as Sergei slows the drone.

‘That’s seen some action,’ Clarence says. ‘That’s been blown.’

‘I think that was probably Bridge Street,’ Roy says. ‘That road runs straight past the Guildhall and into the High Street.’

‘Carmen, take a look,’ Henry calls as Carmen gets to the front to see in.

‘Yep, that’s been blown, but not by C4. IEDs maybe?’

‘Okay, take it into the town then,’ Howie says as Henry nods in agreement, and they watch Sergei take the drone over the bridge taken out by Mike, and within seconds, the view fills with densely packed infected. ‘Holy fuck, there they are,’ Howie says quietly.

‘Let me change camera,’ Sergei says and clicks a button, and the feed changes to black and white thermal imaging, which is impactive enough, but then he switches to infrared thermal imagining, and the true scale hits them. Thousands of red, glowing figures packed into the High Street, from the statue to Alfred the Great and up past the Guildhall. In the side streets too. Spilling out in all directions.

They fly on, following the High Street all the way up past the Buttercross Monument, to the very top, and the roundabout, and the Plague Memorial.

The quadrant of council buildings. The police HQ. Castle Avenue. The Great Hall. The plazas.

All of those places and every side street packed with red, glowing figures. They stretch back to the train station and beyond.

‘Why can’t the CP glow blue or something?’ Howie asks, with a snort from Paula and the others.

‘That would make it too easy,’ Paula says. ‘Sergei, can you go higher, please. Let’s see how far out they spread. Alright. Okay. That’s interesting. They are very focussed on the actual city centre. They’re thinning out beyond these buildings.’

‘Those are the military museums,’ Roy says. ‘That’s the cathedral. So yeah, they’re covering those places, but they are focussed on the inner city.’

‘That’s our epicentre then,’ Henry says.

‘Where’s Lilly?’ Howie asks, turning away to look for her.

‘Next to you,’ she says as he turns the other way to see her face freshly applied with black stripes and wearing a SF helmet and radio set.

‘What do you make of it?’

‘This isn’t my field, Mr Howie.’

‘I worked in Tesco, Lilly, and I didn’t do sixteen A-Levels. I don’t think I even did six GCSEs.’

‘Education is not a fair representation of intelligence,’ Lilly says. ‘But yes. I would say that appears to be the epicentre.’

‘Okay, so the fireball the nuke will make will spread out in all directions, right?’ Paula asks as she also looks to Lilly.

‘Yes. But you need to run this past Henry. I might be wrong.’

‘Henry’s right there, and he’s perfectly capable to jumping in when he needs to,’ Paula says. ‘So, from what you all said earlier, say, we put the nuke in the High Street here, these immediate buildings will what? Be destroyed? Be flattened?’

‘Too many variables,’ Henry says.

‘Winchester is an ancient city,’ Roy says. ‘Some of those buildings have walls that are over a foot thick.’

‘Where then?’ Paula asks and motions the screen. ‘Where is our best chance of causing maximum harm.

Lilly can see it.

So can Henry.

Carmen too.

But it’s Reginald that voices it as he leans over and places a finger on the screen. ‘That junction.’

‘That’s the Plague Memorial,’ Roy says.

‘We put the nuke there,’ Reginald says. ‘The fireball, hopefully, and the blast radius can have unimpeded flow along the High Street and along these roads, towards the east and the north.’

‘Agreed,’ Carmen says. ‘And if we C4 those buildings around it, we’ll increase the range.’

‘Which ones?’ Paula asks as Carmen climbs up to show them on the screen.

‘Here.’

‘That’s the council HQ,’ Roy says. ‘It forms a quadrant around a central square.’

‘And here,’ Carmen adds.

‘That’s the police HQ,’ Roy says.

‘Across here in these,’ Carmen says.

‘I think, from memory, they’re pubs and houses,’ Roy says. ‘Hang on, that’s right next to the Westgate ruins. That’s The Great Hall. It’s got The Round Table in it. The nuke will destroy all of that. That’s William the Conqueror’s buildings… I mean, some of them are like one thousand years old. That’s the history of the whole country right there. Everything we became stems from that city.’

‘We could move the nuke down to the next junction,’ Paula says, motioning where the High Street meets Jewry Street.

‘We’ll get a fraction of the impact there,’ Henry says. ‘I get you, Roy. And I agree. That’s our heritage, but I don’t see an alternative.’

Roy tuts sadly as Elka sighs and rubs his shoulder, which just makes Paula and everyone else blink and share looks. ‘Is right thing,’ Elka says. ‘Is hard. I know. Five times hard,’ she whispers as Roy snorts a laugh and shoots her a look.

‘What was that?’ Paula asks. ‘What did she say?’

‘Nothing,’ Roy says quickly. ‘And I guess we’ll have to put it there. But can we at least not C4 The Great Hall. Or the Cathedral, and not down there, where the Buttercross Monument is either. And actually, if it looks really old with thick walls, then don’t C4 it unless it’s like really vital.’

‘Shall we just give the zombies special history maps?’ Howie asks.

‘If you think that will help,’ Roy says. ‘Anyway. I’m guessing we can’t do overwatch on this one, so I’ll come in with you in the Saxon. And hand out those maps.’

Elka laughs as even Howie does a double-take at the interaction between them.

‘Moving on cos this isn’t awkward at all,’ Carmen says. ‘Okay. Charlie and I will do the council buildings and behind them to open that spread out. Frank and Mads, you take the police HQ and behind – that should increase the range of the blast and fireball into this little side street. Bash and Jonesy, you do the west side of this block opposite the council buildings. Kyle, Lilly, and Mary, you do the east side of that block. C4 on outer walls in the middle to create holes, so the blast can travel through.

‘What if we find any survivors?’ Jonesy asks.

‘Take them with you if they can keep up,’ Carmen says. ‘But do not get stuck trying to help people.’

‘Fuck’s sake, don’t be there when that nuke goes off,’ Howie says. ‘How are you getting in?’ he asks Carmen.

‘We’ll debus here on this back road,’ she says, indicating North Walls Street. ‘Then we can tab in through the gardens along this block behind the council and police HQs.’

‘Okay,’ Howie says. ‘My team, then. I think we’ll go in down the bottom of the town. Sergei, fly back towards the river. Yeah, that’s it. So, we take the Saxon in over the bridge here, then go along to the bottom of the High Street, and make a noise. Tappy can put some music on, and we’ve got the fifty cal. We’ll get Dave on that for a minute while Marcy gets the explosives teams in a bit closer. When they debus, we’ll do what we can to draw them to us. When you’re in situ, we’ll find a way to this junction and set the nuke. Then we all run like fuck. And I know that’s a shit plan, but I think it’s the best we can do. Just remember. All of you need to remember if these infected get away from here, the fort is gone. So is the school and Krakov’s house. We have to stop them. It’s just us now. We are the cavalry. And I know that sounds cliched as shit, but we cannot fail. If we fail, we lose this war, and they win. Even with the Panacea because there won’t be enough people left to take the Panacea and withstand the infection. That’s why we are doing this. You all in? You all up for this?’

‘Fuck them! Mister Howies will wins!’ Krakov says.

‘Fuck ’em. We’ll win,’ Howie says.

‘Da! This is what I say.’

‘No, you didn’t. What are you doing anyway?’

‘I comes!’

‘With us?’

‘Da! I fight!’

‘Is my turn, papa,’ Elka says.

‘Nyet! You stay with Paula and Henry. You lead if I die.’

‘I lead anyways,’ she says with an eye-roll that makes her father roar with laughter. ‘Comes! We get in the Saxons.’

‘I need to change this,’ Clarence says, holding his spike up.

‘You want the hammer fist one?’ Tappy asks and runs off to get it, then comes back to unscrew and refasten the heavy clump of metal on instead.

‘Nyet. Use spike,’ Krakov said. ‘Is better. No?’

‘Soon find out,’ Clarence says.

‘Your chains are in the end cubby,’ Tappy tells him. ‘Oh, and not tittle tattling or anything, but Tam thinks it’s unfair that Johnny and Bibi can go in with you, but she and Ali can’t. I said I go in with you and Charlie does all the time, and Blinky did, and it’s not a sexist thing. And look at Carmen! Then Charlie told her she needs to earn her place and not just expect it. I think Ali was alright about it, though, and Marcy said she needs them in the bus on the light machine guns if she has to go in and help anyone.’

‘Okay, that’s good,’ Clarence says. ‘You alright?’

‘Yeah! Was a bit hungover, but that’s worn off,’ she says with a grin and starts to turn away, but looks back at him. ‘What song do you want?’

‘Song?’ Clarence asks. ‘When we go in loud? Crikey.’

‘I reckon you’d be like my dad and go for something like ACDC’s Thunderstruck.’

‘Classic!’ Frank calls over as his team start piling onto the bus.

‘Divorced dad music!’ Marcy shouts after him.

‘Yeah. Alright, do that,’ Clarence says with a wink at Tappy. She runs off; then it’s happening, and they’re loading up, with Clarence watching the lads pile into the Saxon. No helmets. No night vision. No bags. Rifles and tac-vests, and machetes, and axes. What a thing to do. He steps away to aim for the front. A hand on his arm pulling him around. Paula in the rain. Staring up at him. He smiles down at her. She smiles back and reaches up to pull his head down for a kiss as the lads cheer and whistle. Making Paula chuckle and give them the bird while also lifting one leg in full-on movie-style.

‘Nice touch!’ Marcy calls.

‘Be safe,’ Paula says and runs back to the command vehicle, with Carmen wishing she could do that with Reginald, and Danny wishing he could do that with Ali, and Roy thinking maybe he’d quite like to do that with Elka, and Charlie thinking she did do that with Cookey, but now he’s being a twat, and she’s confused.

Whatever.

‘Salom! Hallo!’ a bulky guy says with a cheerful greeting at the back of the Saxon. His features partway between Russian and Asian with a bushy beard but no moustache, and he gives a big smile as he starts clambering in.

‘Is Popov!’ Krakov calls out to the lads. ‘Say privet to Popov.’

‘Salom! Not Privet. I am Uzbek,’ Popov says.

‘Salom, Popeye!’ Cookey says, and the laughs sound out from the jostling and barging as the new guy squeezes in.

‘Oi, Krakov!’ Howie says from inside the Saxon. ‘Clarence said you can have the front seat!’

‘I bloody didn’t!’ Clarence says and starts running as Krakov does the same, with the laughs sounding out at the two big men trying to barge the other aside. Krakov reaches it first with a cheer and wrenches the door open with a yelp, and runs back from the dog giving him what for.

‘Best day ever!’ Cookey says, wiping the tears from his eyes.

‘Ah! Is joke! I like!’ Krakov says with a big grin and stomps to the back to clamber in, using Danny’s leg as one handrail and Cookey’s head as another.

‘There’s no way I’m fitting in there!’ Clarence says, hearing the laughs coming from the armoured bus and in the command vehicle.

‘Sit in the front then!’ Howie calls.

‘Yeah, stuff that. Mind out, Danny! I’m coming in!’

The groans sound out. Loud and raucous, with yelps and shouts amidst the laughing.

The energy high. The energy flowing.

A moment in time.

A moment before the carnage.

The Saxon pulls out.

The bus behind it.

The city ahead.

A great plague upon it, and ahead lies only death and suffering, and even to the blind boy sitting in the dark and cold Great Hall, the future is uncertain and unknown. No more images in his mind. No more faces.

Only darkness.

And outside, the bangs sound out as the infected search the city.

11

A bang against the doors makes them tense, with Livvy surging to her feet, reaching for her shield and mace. Bev’s hand on her leg holds her still. ‘Just a scrape,’ she mouths.

Livvy lowers back down as Sophie shivers and tucks her head under the blanket to write a few more lines in her diary.

They’re at the doors. They’re searching for us. We keep hearing breaking glass. They must be forcing into places to look for us. Livvy just wants to fight them now. I think I do too. I hate hiding.

She pops her head back out and listens intently. Mike next to her, still longing for a drink but giving thanks that this happened in his life. Jevram on his other side, figuring Elaine never saw the coins he left for her in the bowl of vinegar. Or she did see them, and she just doesn’t care. Or possibly it’s not a question of Elaine caring at all but more about the thing inside gaining sapience and taking control, which also means that Elaine died when she was taken, and what’s left is now the other thing.

He frowns into the darkness, wishing he could have found out more about it all. But it’s not to be. He can hear the breaking glass too. Somewhere nearby. Feet outside. Another scrape at the back of the building. Another at the front.

Not long now.

Elaine walks along the High Street like a queen moving through her subjects that part like the red seas to let her pass. Images in her mind as she sends her hosts out to search. Breaking doors open. Smashing windows. Scenting the air for trace of them.

She thinks to go loud and make them howl and screech to see if it will gain reaction or make them panic, but she holds off. Sensing it will be futile and that the use of silence will have the greater impact.

Either way. She will find them. Every building will be checked. Every room.

There simply is no way out.

The Saxon comes off Easton Lane and turns left to aim for the bottom of the High Street. The bus behind it carries on into North Walls Street. Marcy at the wheel, wondering how the hell she ever get roped into being the bus driver. But she quite likes it. And it’s not just a bus. It’s a battle bus.

‘Battle bus?’ she suggests to Ali and Tam.

‘No! Needs to be way more cool,’ Ali says.

‘The war bus?’ Tam suggests.

‘No!’ Ali says. ‘It needs… You know… that something.’

‘It needs to stop being a fucking beast is what it needs,’ Marcy says as she grinds through another gear change.

‘Beast!’ Ali says. ‘She’s The Beast!’

‘I like that,’ Tam says, getting a fist bump.

‘Actually. Yeah, that does fit,’ Marcy says with a grunt as she turns the wheel to guide it over to the side. ‘Here?’

‘That’s good,’ Carmen says and looks to her team. ‘We all good? Stay alert. Don’t engage unless you have to. No heroics.’

‘Just one thing,’ Frank says as he pulls his night vision goggles down.

‘If you say Mogadishu, I will fucking shoot you,’ Carmen says.

‘No. Not that. This,’ Frank says and does nothing as they all frown, until the smell hits them.

‘Oh, god, you dirty shit! Get off my bus,’ Marcy says with a gag, covering her nose as she opens the door, and they file out and rush away to the building line. Frank on point. Mads behind him. Carmen and Charlie next. Jonesy and Bash. Kyle bringing up the rear. A thumbs up from Carmen to the bus, and it pulls away to make a turn into a junction to loop back to the FCP. Leaving the team alone in the city. Rucksacks filled with C4 and timers. Weapons ready.

A pat on Frank’s shoulder from Carmen, and they set off at a light jog, passing St Peter Street, where Mike and Debs took refuge in the hotel and met Rifles, and where Elaine Sotheby died outside of her flat and came back in the true state of being.

They run on past Jewry Street without seeing the burnt out remains of the church Mike set fire to as they bugged out while under attack.

They stop midway along the next block. A few hundred metres shy of the junction outside the train station. The infected ahead. Seen through their goggles. Hundreds of them. Thousands. And beyond that, they clock sight of carriages that must have left the tracks and slammed through the station and out onto the road.

Then it’s a hard left along an alley. Frank leads them to the rear gardens and over walls; then a dash across a side street and into the multi-level car park. A pause to gather their wits and draw air; then they push on, working through the middle sections of the block until they’re behind the quadrant of council buildings.

A check behind him to see all four teams are ready, and Frank gives the signal to Carmen.

‘C4 teams in place and ready, Command,’ she transmits.

‘Command receiving and understood,’ Paula replies. At the desk, staring at the screens. Two drones now in the air. One over the C4 teams. The second over the Saxon. ‘Command to Saxon. Ready when you are.’

‘Saxon to Command. Standby,’ Howie says in the few inches of space he has in the back of the Saxon between Krakov, Clarence, and Popov, and all the others. ‘Slight delay. Tappy can’t find Thunderstruck on her music player.’

‘I know I’ve got it,’ Tappy transmits.

‘Wr…Wr… Wreckingball!’ Johnny says.

‘Seriously? Wrecking Ball?’ Marcy asks into her radio.

‘I like Wrecking Ball,’ Carmen transmits as Charlie and Mary nod.

‘Prefer ACDC,’ Jonesy says.

‘Well. I can’t bloody find it,’ Tappy says.

‘Beast to Command,’ Ali says.

‘Beast?’ Paula asks.

‘The Beast,’ Marcy says. ‘Not beast. The Beast. And that’s us, FYI.’

‘That’s very cool,’ Tappy says. ‘And no. Can’t find it. So? Wrecking Ball, then? Ooh, how about The Ketchup Song?’

‘Fuck off!’

‘Fuck that!’

‘Piss off!’

‘Okay, okay! Hmmm, oooh, what about Black Betty Spiderbait?’

‘Do you actually have a divorced dad playlist?’ Marcy transmits.

‘Do it,’ Howie transmits.

‘Roger that!’ Tappy says, and in the command vehicle, Paula leans back and unfastens her hair to reapply the band. The C4 teams stacked up and ready. Glowing in thermal white on the screen. Seen through the open top of the multi-level car park. The Saxon holding still on Eastgate Street.

‘Ready?’ she asks with a look to Henry and Reginald.

A nod from both. She leans back in and presses the switch to transmit, ‘Command to the Saxon. Greenlight.’

Tappy floors the Saxon, making the engine roar as she powers on along the road.

Dave already up and ready. Holding the fifty cal now fitted to the turret.

The infected ahead.

White figures in the road.

The Saxon closing in.

The music blasting.

Everyone in the back clinging on.

A few seconds left.

The music bursts to life through the new speakers Tappy fitted in the garden centre.

The sound reaches them all. Faint and echoing, but they still hear it, with Elaine coming to a stop in the High Street and cocking her head over.

They react in The Great Hall too. Heads snapping up as they strain to hear it. ‘Someone’s getting divorced,’ Sophie whispers, earning snorts and a warning shush from Bev.

‘Got to be a trick,’ Bev adds, urging caution as they all tense, expecting the music to be the start of the infected ramping to wild anger again.

But that doesn’t happen, and a second or so later, Dave, while as expressionless as ever, pulls the side bolt back with a satisfying crunch to engage the belt-fed rounds, and the war begins proper as he fires the first shots that are heard by everyone. In the command vehicle. In the bus. In the car park at the top of town. By Elaine in the High Street, and by nine people in The Great Hall that all hear the deep echoing shots of a fifty-calibre machine gun coming to life.

And the boy smiles into the darkness. Because someone is here.

Someone is coming.

‘Jesus,’ Paula says on seeing the instant effect of a fifty calibre round hitting a human form, made even more surreal by the dehumanising sight of the infected being nothing more than white, glowing figures. But the sight of them blowing apart is something else. Adult human beings being lifted off their feet by the power of the rounds. Heads bursting apart like they’re nothing more than fruit.

Devastating and brutal. A machine of war and nothing else. A machine of destruction.

‘HOLY FUCK!’ Tappy shouts, seeing it through her night vision goggles.

A rush inside of Mike in The Great Hall on hearing it. Sudden hope inside of Bev. All of them on their feet and reaching for weapons.

The bus gets back into the compound, and they rush out to watch the screens in the Command vehicles. Seeing the Saxon fly past the statue to Alfred the Great and run deep into the massed horde. Crushing them down. Slamming them aside. The machine gun firing. The music blaring.

Energy inside of Howie.

Dark and furious, and rising up as Tappy fishtails to slide the Saxon around, scoring a line to clear space at the back doors. Dave twisting to fire at the rear of the Saxon to clear space. Gunning them down. ‘NOW!’ he roars and spins around to strafe the sides as the back doors burst open, and they spill out with assault rifles up and firing.

AKs batting them down. Clarence firing bursts from the PKM resting on his metal fist. Krakov holding his. A sudden cacophony of gunfire and noise, and bedlam, and death, and still the music plays, and still the deeper thud of the fifty cal is heard loudest of all.

It sends a thrill through Mike and the others. All of them on their feet and holding weapons. Ready to wage war but having the sense to hold position and stay silent.

‘That’s us,’ Carmen says as Frank pops a smoke grenade to one side of the building, and Kyle the other. The contents spewing out with a hiss to create a dense wall of smoke that quickly fills the street.

‘Go!’ Carmen orders.

Frank and Maddox go out one side and dart through the horde to reach the police HQ, and work along the building line to get inside the already broken doors. The smoke so thick they pass without issue.

Kyle, Lilly, and Mary go the other side. Jonesy and Bash with them. Getting across nearly unseen until Jonesy bumps into an infected, who turns around without realising it wasn’t another host.

They reach the other side and run along an alley to the gardens at the rear. A nod to each other, and Kyle leads off to the east side while Jonesy and Bash take the west.

A nod from Carmen to Charlie, and they go too. Breaking cover to get out into the street to run along through the smoke. A big infected ahead. Blocking the way. Carmen draws her knife and takes it from behind with the blade to the throat. Dropping it silently. Then they’re into the back of the quadrant of the council buildings, and they work along, seeing the rear fire doors all locked and thinking they’ll have to make noise to get in.

Then they find it.

A door left unlocked and ready for use by Mike and Bev. A whispered prayer of thanks to whoever did it from Carmen, and they slip inside.

Into the near pitch darkness.

Into the near silence, save for the noise being created by the Saxon down by the Guildhall as Howie and his team pour rounds into them. Dropping dozens near instantly. Reloading fast. Killing more.

Elaine still in the High Street with her head cocked over. Someone new is here. Someone else fighting back.

Fuck them.

She snarls and sends the order, and her hosts burst to life. Snarling and howling as those closest turn towards the Saxon and start their charge.

‘You’ve got incoming, Howie,’ Paula’s voice in their ears. Calm. Controlled. Howie grunts and ditches his rifle in the Saxon as the lads do the same and grab axes and machetes. Mo drawing his knives. Clarence pulling his chain free. The music still blasting. Krakov with a polycarb shield on one arm and a vicious metal cudgel in the other. Popov with a sword. Roy the same. Blowers cracking his neck. Cookey’s eyes gleaming. Bibi drawing his Ghurkha knife. Johnny rolling his shoulders.

‘INTO THEM!’ Howie roars, and they burst out with a murderous yell to meet the charge. Howie out front. Lifting his axe and ready for the first true kill as Dave glides past to take it down, and the blood sprays thick and high, and the bones snap, and the chain whirs as Clarence spins it overhead and brings it down to rip heads from necks.

Tappy pulls away. Knowing she can’t stay static for fear of being grounded. Besides, the Saxon is their best asset in close quarters, and she drives through the hordes. Breaking bodies and popping skulls. Meredith at her side. Hackles up. Teeth bared.

‘Who is that?’ Bev mouths into Mike’s ear in The Great Hall, but Mike shakes his head. Having no clue who it could be.

While in the command vehicle, Sergei keeps one drone over the Saxon and the fight down towards the end of town and the other drone at the top. The four teams now out of sight and within their buildings.

Charlie and Carmen sweep inside an office and over to the outer wall, where Charlie takes a knee and aims at the door while presenting her rucksack to Carmen. She slings her rifle and takes the first charge from Charlie’s backpack and sets in in place. Then they’re off and out, and along to the next. Doing the same.

Frank and Maddox get through the now ruined barricade in the police building. Seeing spent casings and signs of war and death inside. But then this was the police HQ, so it stands to reason that some cops took a last stand. They do the same as Charlie and Carmen, with Maddox taking a knee to cover while Frank places charges. A tap to his shoulder, and they sweep on to the next.

Jonesy and Bash across the other side of the road from the council buildings. Working from house to house. Charges on the front. Charges on the back. They work well together. Quickly becoming intuitive to the other’s movements. Bash feels the rush inside from finally using the skills he was given.

A signal from Jonesy to move on. Bash leads them out into the garden. A snarl. A rush. An infected charging at them. No time to think. No time for thought. Bash slings and draws his blade to take it through the neck as it slams into him. Stabbing it hard until the wound is open and the blood is pouring out thicker than the infection can stop it. Jonesy next to him. Stamping on the head to bring it to silence. Both gasping. On their feet. A second to process it; then they move on. The task still to be done.

Kyle, Lilly, and Mary work the other building line. Doing the same thing. Placing charges and working fast. No time for thinking. No time for thoughts. All memory of George and the fort, and the threat they are under pushed from their minds.

On they go. All four teams working fast.

Howie’s team slaughtering them in hand-to-hand combat, and surely, they must be killing many, and they are. Dozens of them are already dead. Maybe one hundred, but many tens of thousands still remain, and so Elaine sends more at them. Wanting to finish them quickly, so she can find the child.

Johnny flips another, with Bibi ready to take it through the neck. Cookey and Blowers side by side. Clarence swinging his chain. Popov and Roy thrusting swords through necks. Krakov slamming them down with one hit from his mighty frame and his brutal cudgel. Dave gliding his dance. Moving like water. Slicing throats and tendons. Mo with the same skills. Danny snarling as he hacks them down with his machete.

Paula clenches her fists. Thinking this is actually working. A plan of theirs is actually working.

‘Sergei, would you switch to the other thermal imaging, please?’ Reginald asks, then watches how Sergei does it. ‘This one, is it? Do you mind if I change it?’

‘Is fine. Knock myself outs,’ Sergei says as Paula smiles and watches the screens as Reginald cycles the view to green screen, then to black and white thermal, then to infrared thermal imaging, with the figures all glowing different shades of yellow. He keeps it on that one and leans forward to study the images on the screens. Picking out the members of the team.

‘Now, that’s very interesting,’ Reginald says.

‘It is,’ Paula says as she spots it.

‘What is?’ Henry asks, coming closer to see, with Elka and Marcy, and Tilda, and the others craning to look.

‘These are the infected,’ Reginald says, pointing out the obvious and the mass of glowing figures. Some charging towards Howie’s team. Others static while yet others move away and in different directions. ‘They are a darker yellow,’ Reginald says. ‘Whereas Howie’s team are a lighter yellow.’

‘Ah, yes, I can see the difference,’ Henry says.

‘Who is that red one?’ Marcy asks from the back door. ‘That’s Howie!’

‘It is,’ Reginald says as they all see the glowing figure appearing far redder than the others. ‘That is interesting. Very interesting,’ Reginald murmurs and shoots a look to Marcy in such a way that Paula and Henry notice.

‘Oh,’ Paula says, grasping the meaning. ‘We need to check it. Can we put a third drone up?’

‘Nyet. Only two feeds,’ Sergei says. ‘But check what, please?’

‘Marcy,’ Paula says.

‘What for?’ Marcy asks.

‘To see if you’re red or yellow,’ Paula says.

‘The CP!’ Marcy says as she gets it.

‘Indeed. The CP,’ Reginald says. ‘If Howie is glowing red, the Control Point might also be glowing red, which means we might have a way of locating it.’

‘Game changer,’ Paula whispers, hardly believing their luck. ‘We need to test Marcy, though. That might just be Howie being red.’

‘Check Lilly,’ Marcy says.

‘Lilly isn’t a CP,’ Henry says.

‘She fucking is,’ Marcy says. ‘As much as I hate to say it.’

‘Genius,’ Paula says with a quick nod at Marcy. ‘Sergei, can you see Lilly?’

‘Which ones is this?’

‘Okay, er, they’re working that row of buildings on the western edge of the block next to the council quadrant place.’

‘Tell her to go outside,’ Marcy says. ‘Lilly? It’s Marcy. Go and stand outside.’

‘Will ye feck off and let us work!’ Mary snaps into her radio.

‘You dick! I’m not telling her to go out and get chomped. We need to see her on the thermal imaging.’

‘And I said ye can get fucked. Ask someone else.’

‘What for?’ Lilly’s hard voice asks through the radio.

‘Lilly, it’s Paula. We’re testing a theory. We just need a second.’

‘Command. This is Carmen. Leave my teams alone unless urgent.’

‘It is bloody urgent! Howie’s glowing redder than everyone else. We need to see if Lilly is, so we can use it to track the CP.’

‘Command. This is Carmen. Understood, but in future, if you want my team to do something, you go through me. We have a chain of command for a reason.’

‘Sorry, Carmen! Yep, will do.’

‘Lilly, it’s Carmen. Comply with Command, please.’

‘If this is a fucking set up, I will hunt you all down,’ Mary says.

‘What the fuck is she on about?’ Tappy asks the dog as they listen to the comms while running zombies over, but Meredith doesn’t know either.

‘Command. This is Kyle. I’m going out the back with Lilly and Mary. We’re just over halfway along our block.’

‘I finds them,’ Sergei says as he flies the drone along on green screen to see the definition of the area. ‘Here they comes!’

‘You are a very cheerful soul, Sergei,’ Paula says. ‘Command to Kyle. We have you on screen. Standby, please… Switch it to the other thermal thingy. Oh, shit! Buggering hell. Well done, Reggie!’ she says, rubbing his shoulder. ‘Fucking yes! YES! It’s going right for once.’

‘Command. This is Kyle. Have you seen us?’

‘Command to Kyle. Yes! We can see you.’

‘Is she red?’ Tappy asks.

‘I bet she’s bloody red,’ Charlie mutters to Carmen as they take a knee and listen in to the comms.

‘She’ll be red,’ Mads whispers to Frank setting another charge.

‘She should be ice blue,’ Frank mutters.

‘Command to Kyle. Yes. Lilly is red, the same as Howie. It’s not a huge difference, but it’s enough to be distinct. But that, ladies and gentlemen, is a game changer.’

‘Carmen to Command. My teams need to continue, please. Kyle, keep going. We don’t want to leave Howie exposed for too long.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about Howie. He’ll be having the best day ever,’ Marcy says as Howie takes another head off with a maniacal grin. Not hearing a word of the radio chatter and not caring either as his team slice and dice, and flay, and slay, and bash, and smash them apart.

‘That was good work, Reginald,’ Henry says with genuine meaning. ‘Sergei, bring the drone over to the proposed site for the nuke, will you.’

‘Da. The big junctions, yes?’

‘Yes, that’s it,’ Henry says as they watch the footage below the drone. The junction comes into view. The Plague Memorial in the middle. The quadrant of council buildings to one side. The roundabout ahead that leads to Castle Avenue and The Great Hall and down to the High Street.

Not that they can see any part of the road from the sheer staggering mass of infected crammed in. And that mass stretches in an unbroken line down the High Street and into Castle Avenue, and up into Romsey Road, and back towards the train station. Every side street. Every alley.

‘Now, that’s a bit shit,’ Paula says.

‘Even the Saxon won’t get through that,’ Marcy says from the door.

‘Nope. Not a chance,’ Paula says.

‘We think. We plan. We succeed,’ Henry says calmly. ‘Where is the next best alternative?’

‘Either where they are,’ Reginald says, tapping the screen to show Howie’s team, ‘or back towards the train station. Either location will generate a blast radius and, with luck, send the fireballs through the surrounding streets.’

‘We won’t get anywhere near the kills,’ Paula says.

‘We’ll still get a few thousand,’ Henry says. ‘But yes, I know what you mean. What a damned shame. Carmen is right there too. She’s within a stone’s throw of that big junction.’

‘But she’s inside the council building,’ Reginald says. ‘Detonating it there will lose an awful lot of the power.’

‘Blow the C4 first then,’ Marcy says. ‘Ah, shit. No. They’ll flood right into it straight after. Cock it. Can we drop it from a drone?’

‘Way too heavies,’ Sergei says.

‘Two drones? Three drones?’ Marcy asks.

‘Not ten drones can carry that thing,’ Sergei says. ‘And we don’t have ten controllers or ten peoples to fly thems. How about further along this main road?’ Sergei asks and flies the drone along over the High Street to the big junction with Jewry Street, but even he can see there would be no hope in getting anywhere near it from the sheer astonishing numbers within the centre of the city.

‘Okay. Let me see something,’ Henry says. ‘Sergei, bring the drone back up the High Street. Yes, that’s it. Keep going to the big junction. Now go through that bit towards that building at the end.’

‘That’s The Great Hall,’ Paula says. ‘Roy said that’s like a thousand years old or something. He’ll go nuts if you blow that up.’

‘Check beyond it,’ Henry says as the drone flies on and goes higher to open the view to take in the grounds of the military museums. ‘Yes. That’s it. I recall Roy saying they were thinner there. Okay, so that’s a potential solution. We go in through the military museums and try, and get that nuke in front of The Great Hall. The blast will be directed down towards the junction and along towards the train station.’

‘We’ll miss the High Street,’ Reginald says. ‘That’s the nucleus we need to take out. And the buildings around The Great Hall are ancient, Henry. The walls are thick and very well made. Plus, we’d still have to fight through the grounds of the military museums.’

‘Yes. Okay. That’s agreed,’ Henry says. ‘Where they are, then. At least that funnels the blast up along the High Street, and we still don’t know the blast radius of that thing. It might flatten the whole damn city.’

‘Carmen to Command. We’re just about done. Check progress on the others, please.’

‘Understood. Command to Frank and Mads.’

‘We’re clear of the Police HQ. Doing the building behind it.’

‘Thank you, Mads. Command to Jonesy and Bash?’

‘Yep, close to finish. Nearly the whole row done.’

‘Thank you, Jonesy. Command to Kyle?’

‘Aye. Same, Command. We’re nearly done and ready.’

‘What’s the play then, Henry?’ Reginald asks. ‘I think to detonate where they are,’ he adds with a look around to the others.

‘Best we’ll get, and my instinct is to strike while we’ve got momentum,’ Paula says.

‘Do it,’ Marcy says.

‘No,’ Elka says, making the others look at her in surprise. ‘Why put C4 up there if going to detonate down there? I think do your first plan.’

‘They can’t get to that spot,’ Paula says.

‘Not before, maybe. Now, yes. You have The Beast bus. We have machine guns. We have grenade launchers. Blow the C4 and we all go in. All of us. You are The Living Army. You wear the pink berry, but you are being timid. I bet if you ask Mister Howie he will say fuck this. We go there. Ask him. I mean it! Ask him.’

‘Howie, it’s Marcy, can you hear me?’

‘Busy! You need to shout!’

‘That big junction is packed. It’ll be hard to get into!’ Marcy shouts in the radio. ‘It’s really packed.’

‘So? Fuck ‘em!’

‘Howie. There are thousands!’

‘Good!’ Howie yells as Tappy grunts a laugh. ‘I hope every single one of those cunts are there. We’ll take that fucking bus in and chew the shit out of them!’

‘DA!’ Krakov’s voice booms out. ‘We makes happen. Is C4 bomba readies?’

‘Okay. Now I feel a bit stupid,’ Paula says, rubbing her face. ‘We need to remember the agreement. Reginald tells us where we need to be. Henry gets us there; then Howie kills everything. I’m changing my mind. We need to trust Howie.’

‘Same,’ Marcy says.

‘Howie’s greatest gift is his ability to absorb damage,’ Reginald says. ‘You said that yourself, Henry.’

Henry blinks once. Remembering what it was like to be bold and daring, and he recalls the motto of the SAS “Who dares wins”. But what George said to him sunk in with barbs. That Henry was never a war planner. Why did George say that? And he seemed different. Less amenable. Distant even. But yes. They are right. This is the agreement they made, and Howie’s instincts have proven right many times over. To charge full on with everything you have. The energy spikes inside of him. A rush of courage. ‘Do it,’ he orders. ‘Sergei, are you armed?’

‘My rifle is there, and I have a pistol.’

‘Good. You stay here with Reggie. Paula and I will go in the bus and collect the C4 teams; then we’re all going in behind the Saxon. Reggie, you’re on comms. Tell Carmen to get her teams to the pick-up.’

‘Command to all units. Reginald here. Listen in, chaps. Slight change of plan. Carmen, get your teams to the pick-up. Tappy, collect Howie, please, and make ready. The bus will be going in behind the Saxon to provide fire support. Howie, I suggest you arm that nuke inside the Saxon, then get ready to drop it, and bug out. There are too many to stand and fight. We are in, then straight out.’

‘I’ll tell the boss. He won’t be able to hear you.’ Tappy says as she turns at speed to race back towards Howie and his team.

Paula ditches her headphones and grabs her rifle to run with Henry and the others to the bus. Getting inside, with Marcy starting the engine and pulling away.

All of them thrumming with adrenalin and a sense of exhilaration.

‘Boss!’ Blowers shouts as he spots the Saxon powering through the horde towards them. A thumbs up from Howie as they make a gap for the Saxon to get through, then once more grab rifles and PKMs to put rounds in while they clamber inside. Dave up and into the hole. The fifty-cal firing again. The lads in. Popov and Roy in. Krakov in. Clarence in. A hand on the back of Howie’s tac-vest, and he hefts Howie up and in as the Saxon pulls out and gets free back the way she came in.

‘Change of plan!’ Tappy shouts over shoulder to the others all gasping in the back. ‘That big junction is packed out. Reggie said The Beast is going in with us.’

‘The Beast?’ Howie calls.

‘Sorry! The bus. Marcy’s calling it The Beast. Henry and Paula, and everyone else is inside it, ready to give fire support, but Reggie said arm the nuke in here, then we go in and drop it, and run.’

‘Must be dense then,’ Clarence says, dripping sweat and blood the same as the rest.

‘It’s fucking mental!’ Tappy calls. ‘I only saw a bit up that High Street, but fuck me! Never seen so many in one place. Like… A hundred times worse than Gatwick, and they’re all bunched in super close.’

Howie nods. Dripping sweat and gore and breathing hard. A hundred thoughts in his mind, but one pushes to the front as he nods at Krakov. ‘When did you know?’ he asks and reaches out touch the blood spatters on Krakov’s cheeks.

The big Russian smiles and brings his foot up to rest on the nuke. He tugs his trouser up to show a bite mark on his calf. ‘Popov got blood in mouth. We no turn into them.’

‘Elka?’ Roy asks.

‘We think. We not test. But she kill them with knife, so?’ Krakov says with a shrug. ‘But is good, da? Now I get pink berry! I fights with Misters Howies!’

‘What the fuck!’ Bibi says from somewhere underneath Clarence and Popov, and Krakov. ‘We fought twice with you!’

‘B… B… BigBertha!’ Johnny calls.

‘Ah, fuck, yeah, they fought Big Bertha with us, boss,’ Nick says.

‘You think so?’ Howie asks. ‘Blowers? Where are you?’

‘Buried under someone’s fat arse!’

‘Which is his happy place,’ Cookey says to snorts and laughs. ‘Ah, shit! Sorry, Bibi, that wasn’t a gay joke.’

‘I’m not gay. I don’t know why you’d say that,’ Bibi says.

‘He… He… Bibi deny itwhennotdrunk!’ Johnny says.

‘Shut up. I’m not gay.’

‘You can be gay, mate,’ Cookey says with a laugh. ‘Blinky was.’

‘Sergei is gay mans,’ Popov says in a thick accent. ‘Is great mans!’

‘My Elka is gay,’ Krakov says and bends down into the mass of bodies to grip Bibi’s arm and lift him to his feet. ‘Be proud, my young friend! Say what you are!’

Bibi shakes his head, ‘You don’t get it. My family.’

‘So? My Elka say, Papa, I am gay. I say you are my daughter! I love you! Be you, Beebee! Da? Say loud. I AM GAYS! Howie is right, Beebee. Old world is gone. Is new worlds now.’

‘You know what?’ Blowers says and climbs up Clarence’s back to reach into a cubby hole to grab two more pink berets. ‘Sorry, boss, but they’re my team, and they earned them. Johnny and Bibi, welcome to the unit.’

‘FUCK YES!’ Tappy shouts as the cheers go up and feet stamp in the back, and the dog barks as Popov heaves Johnny up, and the two lads get pink berets pushed onto their heads, with Blowers tweaking Johnny’s to the right angle, and Popov and Krakov doing Bibi’s.

‘B… B… Bestdayever!’ Johnny says. A huge grin on his face. Bibi the same. Flushed and soaked with rain and sweat, and blood, and gore. A feeling inside unlike anything he’s ever felt. Immense pride and elation. A feeling of belonging and acceptance as the others all grip their hands and pat their shoulders. Danny and Mo. Nick and Cookey. Sergeant Blowers still as scary as anything in his eye-patch. Clarence too. The giant winking at them and calling them good lads.

‘You deserve it,’ Howie says.

‘And we don’ts?’ Krakov asks.

‘Not fucking yet!’ Howie says as the Russian roars with laughter and pulls Bibi into his side with an arm around his shoulders. Almost crushing the poor lad as the Saxon slows to a stop.

‘We’re next to the bus,’ Tappy calls as Howie pops the back doors open and jumps out into the rain. The others following him to be out of the cramped space. Bibi and Johnny still grinning as they adjust their pink berets.

‘No way!’ Ali shouts, running from the bus to hug them both.

‘We want ours!’ Tam says, flapping her hands out.

‘Did you hear the change of plan?’ Henry asks as he and Paula stride towards Howie. The two vehicles tucked up on Union Street.

Motion to the side. Carmen running out from the building line towards the vehicles. Her team behind her.

‘Hot brief!’ Henry calls. ‘Change of plan. It’s too dense at the nuke site. I wanted to call it off, but I have been assured Howie will get through.’

‘Fucking right, we will,’ Howie says.

‘And well done you two,’ Henry says with a nod at Johnny and Bibi in their berets. ‘Right, very basic plan. The Saxon leads the charge with the bus.’

‘The Beast,’ Marcy says.

‘The Beast,’ Henry says. ‘Rides her wake. We all go in. We all put rounds down. The compression there is too intense. If they draw in, we’ll be grounded. Arm the nuke; then we drop it and get straight out.’

‘Okay. Fine,’ Howie says, wiping the gore from his face. ‘Did we pack Lucozade?’

‘We’re talking about a nuke, Howie,’ Henry says.

‘Awesome, and where are we on that Lucozade?’

‘Of course, I bloody did,’ Paula says, then winces. ‘Shit! It’s in Roy’s van.’

‘Fuck’s sake! Paula!’ Howie says as the lads all groan.

‘Paula!’ Blowers says. ‘We always do Lucozade after a fight.’

‘I know! I’m sorry. Let’s just get this done; then we can have one. Okay? Don’t sulk at me! I hate that.’

‘Haven’t even had a coffee,’ Howie says. ‘Fucking whatever.’

‘I say, chaps. Did Paula bring the Lucozade?’ Reginald asks over the radio.

‘Don’t you bloody start! I forgot.’

‘Do you want it armed then?’ Nick asks. ‘I mean, I can try doing it without Lucozade.’

‘You lot are divas,’ Paula says, waving a hand at them. ‘And yes, get it armed. Bloody hell, is it me or is it getting colder? I can see my breath.’

‘I can see mine, but I can’t see any Lucozade,’ Howie says and gets a middle finger as they follow Nick to the Saxon and watch him get inside and squat next to the nuke. Tappy holds a torch over him, and he sets to work. His lips murmuring as he presses buttons and keys the code in; then he pauses and looks up to Henry, Howie, and Paula, and the others. ‘Ready?’

‘And we don’t know how long the timer is?’ Paula asks.

‘Nope,’ Nick says. ‘Does it say anything on that screen?’ he asks Tappy.

‘Er, says 'Press green to arm’, but the spelling is awful. Whole thing looks cheap as shit. It’s like some crappy knock-off from the local market.’

‘Just do it,’ Paula says as Nick presses the button, with a single strong beep and a green light flashing on the panel.

‘Fuck! That’s actually armed,’ Howie says.

‘Yep, it is,’ Tappy says, checking the screen. ‘And it’s only twenty minutes.’

‘Shit! Load up! We’re moving out!’ Howie shouts. ‘Krakov, Popov, you two in the bus. Bibi and Johnny too. We need space in here. Quickly now!’

‘DO NOT ARGUE WITH MR HOWIE!’ Dave roars as the protests cut off, and they run off, with Howie’s core team bundling up into the Saxon. Howie and Clarence dragging the nuke close to the back doors.

‘Reload that PKM,’ Clarence tells Cookey. ‘You put some rounds in when we get there.’

‘On it,’ Cookey says. Serious now. No joking. No banter.

‘Let’s go, Tappy!’ Howie shouts as she fires the engine, and they pull away.

‘We can’t go that fast!’ Marcy calls through the radio.

‘Nineteen minutes already,’ Howie says as Tappy slows and waits for the bus to build speed and get behind them.

‘Why has it gone quiet?’ Kev whispers in The Great Hall. Thinking there to be a tactical reason that Mike or Bev can explain. But they shake their heads. Not knowing anything of what’s happening beyond the walls around them.

Elaine Sotheby the same. Safely within a building off the High Street to stay clear of stray bullets, but she too can hear the shooting has stopped, and through the minds of the hosts, she knows the small group of idiot soldiers have run away. No doubt because they didn’t realise how large her army was. She smiles at that realisation, and the power within seems to grow in confidence, and she wills her horde to find Sophie Addison and the blind child.

The speed builds as Marcy pushes the bus as fast as it will go. Following inches behind the Saxon. ‘Should have let Roy drive this!’ she shouts.

‘He’s in the Saxon,’ Paula says. ‘Okay, that corner is coming at us, Marcy,’

‘Oh, god! We’re too fast,’ Marcy says as the Saxon starts the turn to the left, with Marcy turning the wheel as hard as she can. Making the bus lurch and lean with the wheels squealing. It goes out too wide. Slamming into the fence; then a second later, she runs the first infected over. Then more and more, and many more as they get onto the road running into the city centre.

The Saxon ahead. The fifty-cal letting rip towards the front. ‘Bloody shoot them then!’ Marcy shouts as the others rush to find slits in the armour to point rifles through as they set to work. Putting rounds in as fast as they can.

Reginald watching them overhead. One drone above the vehicles. The other over the intended bomb site. But he can see how packed and dense they are. Thousands of dark yellow forms so close together they form one massed blur.

Sparks of pure light flash from the top of the Saxon, and the barrel of the fifty-cal soon glows red. The same at the sides of the bus. Flashes and sparks, and some of the yellow forms can be seen dropping or flying back. But against so many, it seems pitiful.

‘Barrel change!’ Dave shouts, pulling fireproof gloves on to wrench the almost glowing barrel off, and for a second, he doesn’t know what to do with it and worries dropping it into the Saxon might damage the nuke. In the end, he throws it at a zombie and slots a new one on. Then he’s back to strafing the front.

They hear it in The Great Hall with another surge of hope because that gunfire is coming closer. On their feet again. Holding weapons but not knowing what to do.

Elaine also hears it. A grunt of irritation. A roll of her eyes. She sends hosts at the vehicles, knowing whoever it is, doesn’t stand a chance. Not against so many.

‘They’re compressing, chaps,’ Reginald transmits, seeing the sudden surge.

‘Fifteen minutes!’ Howie calls. ‘How far?’

‘I can’t see a thing!’ Tappy shouts. ‘Reggie. We’re armed. Fifteen minutes to go. How far?’

‘You’re on the final stretch. Two hundred metres… One fifty… One hundred…’

‘Fuck me,’ Howie says, feeling the Saxon rock and bounce from the impacts of infected launching themselves at it.

‘It’s too much, boss!’ Tappy yells, feeling one wheel lose traction from the bodies diving at the sides and wheels.

‘More power!’ Howie shouts.

‘The bus can’t keep up!’ Tappy yells back.

‘Fuck the bus!’

‘Fucking the bus, we are then,’ Tappy says with a surge of power that makes the Saxon pull away from the bus.

‘That’s it, Tappy!’ Reginald calls. ‘Fifty metres… Forty… Thirty… Twenty… That’ll do it! Drop it there!’

‘Doors,’ Howie orders as Danny and Mo push them open, with gunfire erupting within from the lads pouring rounds into the horde to make space at the back. Ears ringing from the awful sound. Hot shells burning cheeks and necks, and arms. All of them grimacing. Howie cursing as he and Clarence grab the nuke and drop it out under a shower of hot cases.

Then it’s down and in situ, and they scrabble back, with Blowers yelling to go. Tappy drives hard. Powering into the charging infected. So many of them that even the engine bites deeper, and they feel the vehicle slow from the sheer weight.

‘Fuck this,’ Howie shouts and opens the back doors to clumsily climb on the roof, with the lads shooting at the infected trying to grab his legs. ‘Give me that PKM!’

It gets handed up, with Howie rushing to the turret as Dave changes barrel and drops the super hot one down inside now the nuke is gone, and Howie fires into the horde around them until Dave slots a new one on and joins in.

A few seconds of arse-clenching worry, with the Saxon hardly making ground until Tappy reverses, then charges harder, building a bit more speed to break through.

‘How the fuck do I get out?’ Marcy asks. ‘I can’t turn this thing here?’

‘Reverse it,’ Henry says. ‘Tappy. Get behind the bus. We’ll need to reverse out.’

‘On it!’ Tappy shouts, driving past them to get behind as Marcy stops and crunches gears, and the bus jolts as it starts reversing. The warning beep sounding weak and pathetic with a pre-recorded safety message “Warning. Vehicle Reversing”.

‘Reginald. As soon we are clear, we need to blow those charges,’ Henry transmits.

‘I don’t have the detonators,’ Reginald says.

‘Yes. I know. Carmen has them, but we can’t see,’ Henry says.

‘Ah, yes. Of course. Understood! Not far now. Keep going.’

Sergei keeps the drone above them, feeling the tension inside the same as everyone else. The ups and downs of it all. The ebb and flow of the battle. Intense and insane, but he can’t help feel exhilarated that he is here and doing this. Working with Mr Howie and Major Henry, and Reginald. Fighting back and winning.

‘Marcy. When I say, turn the wheel hard to the right,’ Tappy calls through the radio. ‘I’ll back you into the train station; then you go forward.’

‘Okay!’ Marcy says, hating not seeing where she is going. The wing mirrors ripped off. The windows covered by armoured panels. The noise inside deafening from the gunfire.

‘Now!’ Tappy orders. Marcy turns the wheel. Feeling the back of the bus bounce over a kerb, but it keeps moving until the view swings in front, and she can see Union Street ahead, beyond the infected charging at them. ‘Now drive out!’ Tappy calls as Marcy sees the Saxon glide in front and punch a hole to protect The Beast as it pulls away and builds speed.

‘Command to Henry. You are clear to blow the C4!’

‘Let me move the drone!’ Sergei says as he quickly glides the one over the bomb site away and over Castle Avenue to get over The Great Hall, and out of range of the C4 charges. ‘Readies!’

‘Fire now!’ Reginald says as Henry nods at Carmen, who presses the detonators, and the bang goes up. Enormously loud and rumbling. Reginald and Sergei hear it from the FCP, and in The Great Hall, they drop to the ground and cover their heads from the astonishing noise of multiple charges of C4 blowing at once. Detonating within the quadrant of council offices. In the police HQ. In the houses and flats, and pubs. Outer walls blowing out as one. Rupturing gas pipes that give flame, with sheets of fire searing the sky.

Sergei swears in Russian. Seeing it through the drone. The great explosions as he flicks through different thermal imagining. Seeing it in white. Then in pure red and bright yellows.

‘It’s down!’ he blurts, seeing the council offices crumbling into a heap with more bangs and explosions, and clouds of smoke, and fire. The police building nearly the same. Whole walls blown out, with only the metal girders left exposed. Bricks and chunks of walls fly out in all directions. Smashing through other buildings and windows, and a great swathe of infected are taken off their feet as one.

They hear and see it in the Saxon. The back doors open to peer out. Everyone in the bus crammed to one side to peer through the slits.

‘Yes!’ Charlie says, hugging Carmen as they cheer and grab at each other. The same in the Saxon. The lads grinning and cheering. Grimy faced and filthy.

Sergei the same. Cheering in the command vehicle. Hugging Reginald, and even he smiles and slaps his battle swatter on his leg in a happy jig before he grabs the radio. ‘We need to get out, chaps! Only twelve minutes left!’

‘What the fuck was that?’ Kev asks in The Great Hall as they hear the explosions and feel the ground trembling; then they hear the impacts of bricks and debris slamming into the roof and the walls.

‘They’re coming for us!’ Sophie says with a grin and a laugh. ‘Someone’s coming to save us!’

Debora grins too because it has to be that. Someone is out there fighting back, and she lifts her head and turns to look at her son. He was right next to her. She pulled him down. But he’s gone. ‘Samy!’ she calls, on her feet and peering into the darkness as the others do the same.

‘I’m here,’ Samy says calmly. Standing still and staring up. Thor on his shoulder. The bird’s head craned to see up and out through the hole in the roof. The waterproof membrane ripped away by the blast and debris. Rain falling inside. Wetting Samy’s face. But that’s not the reason he stands there.

That’s not the reason at all, and inside his mind, an image flashes of a very great explosion that tears The Great Hall apart and reduces them all to particles. It makes him frown and gasp.

Sergei gasps too. In the command vehicle as he gets back into his seat from the success of the C4 charges detonating. His fingers going for the controls to bring the drones back. The smile still on his face that freezes and fades as he looks at the screen. Seeing a figure glowing beneath the drone. Inside the big building.

A figure glowing red.

‘Reggie?’

‘What?’ Reginald asks and peers in. ‘Oh, my! Is that the CP? Wonderful! It’s right in the blast radius!

‘Is others,’ Sergei says as Mike and Bev, and Jevram, and Olivia, and Sophie, and Debora, and Kev, and Craig all join Samy beneath the hole in the roof. Feeling the cold, wet rain on their faces.

All of them glowing yellow.

Like people.

With the smaller one in the middle.

Glowing red.

Reginald blinks once. His mind running fast. Grasping what it means. The whole of it, and now realising why so many infected were in Winchester.

‘Howie! It’s Reginald. Get that nuke out of there!’

‘What the fuck?’ Howie asks as Paula shushes everyone in the bus.

‘CP in The Great Hall.’

‘That’s good!’

‘No! One of ours. Like you and Lilly. With people. That’s what this horde want! He’s red, Howie. Like us. He’s a child! He’s one of us!’

A split-second for it to sink in. A sudden feeling of horror. A wrong turn taken, but those words have meaning. Those words sink in quickly. He’s a child. He’s one of us.

‘Tappy! Out,’ Howie orders. ‘Get in the bus. All of you. I’ll go back for it.’

‘Fuck off,’ Tappy says, shaking her head. ‘I am ten times a better driver than you!’

‘We might not make it!’ Howie shouts as Tappy powers on, and the Saxon roars out as it leaves the bus behind and goes out wide to turn and race back past it.

‘Fuck!’ Marcy says, behind the wheel of the bus. ‘Fuck this,’ she says and slams her foot down to go after it.

‘Do not come with us!’ Howie orders. ‘Marcy! I mean it. Get back to Reginald and get away from here.’

‘Fuck you, Howie!’ Marcy shouts.

‘The big plan, Marcy!’ Howie yells as Marcy shouts in frustration. Paula the same. Knowing what that means. That Marcy was always their nuclear option if Howie fails. She turns the wheel, hating herself for doing it, and if it was just her, she’d go, but it isn’t, and she took enough lives before to lose these ones in this bus now.

‘Can you disarm it?’ Howie asks, shooting a look to Nick.

‘I’ll try. But if not?’

‘I’ll drive it away,’ Howie says as the others clock the way he says I and not we.

‘Hold on!’ Tappy shouts, going as fast as she can as Dave fires carefully for risk of aiming at the nuke somewhere ahead, and once more the Saxon rocks and bounces as the infected fling themselves at it. ‘Where is it?’ Tappy asks through the radio. ‘We can’t see a thing.’

‘I finds it!’ Sergei shouts into the radio.

It takes seconds. Vital seconds, and Sergei flies over it, then whoops, and flies back, then lifts up higher, and activates a powerful downlight.

‘Got it!’ Tappy says, pushing speed as she aims for the bright light. Bodies hitting the front and sides. The wheels bouncing. The others clinging onto to whatever they can grab. ‘Swerving!’ Tappy shouts and yanks the wheel as she anchors on, bringing forth a dizzying sensation within the others. ‘Get it, get it, get it!’ she yells as they get the doors open, with the lads firing at the infected while Clarence scoops down to grab it one handed and heft it inside; then they’re away and building speed.

‘How long?’ Nick asks.

‘Okay, er, yeah, loads of time,’ Howie says.

‘Really?’ Nick asks.

‘No! It’s less than six minutes. Tappy! Go north. Do not go back to the others.’

‘I know!’ she yells, already powering on to create distance.

‘Shit!’ Nick says, trying to key the code in as the Saxon bounces and rocks. ‘I can’t press the buttons.’

‘Just try,’ Howie says as Nick resets and tries again, but again his fingers miss and slip as the Saxon gets hit and bounces hard.

‘Two minutes! I’ll get us out!’ Tappy yells, and those minutes are the longest of their lives as they watch the timer counting down, and she breaks through the ranks and lines to get onto an empty road. Another thirty seconds of high speed, and she slows to a stop and twists to see Nick drawing air and keying the code in. But it flashes red and beeps, and the timer hits less than two minutes.

‘My bad! I did a nine instead of a six,’ Nick says and resets. ‘At least there’s no shitty limits on the deactivation attempts.’

‘Yay for us. We’re so lucky,’ Howie says as the others snort laughs, with Nick grinning and shaking his head.

‘Fucking shit we do,’ Blowers says.

‘Nuts, bro,’ Mo says. ‘But if we go, then we go big. You get me?’

The others nod. Sharing smiles and looks. Even Roy. As in it as the others. Ready for it. Ready for the big bang as Nick keys in the code again, and the timer tells them it’s less than one minute.

Paula in the bus. Not daring to breath. Reginald the same. Henry. Carmen. Charlie. All of them the same.

‘Okay,’ Nick says and exhales, knowing it will either work or it won’t. ‘Still should have had the Lucozade.’

‘I know, right,’ Howie says with his big endearing grin and a great rush inside that spreads to the others as the timer reaches the last few seconds, and Nick hits the button.

A beep.

And it cuts out.

Tappy sags and exhales; then she’s over the seat and diving on Nick as the others do the same. All of them crying out and bundling the poor lad to the filthy floor. Hugging and sobbing, and cheering, and doing it all at the same time. Meredith licking faces and wagging her tail.

‘He did it!’ a garbled transmission from someone in the Saxon, and the tears flow down Paula’s face as she grabs Charlie, and the others erupt into cheers. Henry feeling it too. The pressure. The intensity. A tear of his own that he wipes away as the bus pulls into the FCP, and they spill out to see Reginald shaking his head in stunned shock.

Sergei gasping. Feeling it the same as the others as he glides the drone back to The Great Hall and shines the powerful light down through the hole onto the faces of those below. He turns it on and off a few times. Letting them know they’ve been seen.

They gasp inside, gripping each other and resisting the urge to cry out and make noise.

But it’s not the noise that does it.

It’s that flashing light that Elaine Sotheby sees from the High Street as she walks up towards the now flattened and damaged council buildings.

The flashing light somewhere over Castle Avenue.

And right there, right then, Elaine knows exactly where they are.

12

No time for thinking.

No time for thoughts.

‘Howie, I need you back here!’ Reginald’s voice over the comms breaking through the outburst of relief and joy that Nick disarmed the nuke.

‘We’re coming! Tappy, get us back.’

She scrabbles back over the seat to drive the Saxon as the others disentangle and gasp at what nearly happened; then it’s game faces on and time to focus once more as Tappy takes them wide around the west and northern side of the train station and back into the centre. Finding Union Street with nothing more than the instincts in her gut.

A moment later, they pull into the compound and once more drop into the near-freezing rain, with Howie running to the back of the command vehicle. ‘Show me.’

‘Here,’ Reginald says, pointing to the screen to show the figures still visible below. One smaller. The others larger. One red. The others yellow. Sergei flicks from the thermal imaging to normal vision, and they see the faces of the living staring up through that hole. A small boy. A bird on his shoulder. People in combat black around him holding rifles.

‘I know him!’ Clarence says, pushing closer. ‘The guy with the beard. That’s Scottish Mike.’

‘Is it?’ Frank asks. ‘I met him on selection. Yeah, that might be, actually.’

‘I heard he was homeless,’ Clarence says. ‘He was a pathfinder in the paras.’

‘Good. That means we’ve got a capable asset in theatre,’ Henry says.

‘You need to turn that light off,’ Lilly calls suddenly; her voice hard and direct. ‘Turn it off! You’re signalling to the CP.’

‘Oh my,’ Reginald says, shocked at his own mistake as Sergei kills the light and pulls higher. He switches to thermal imaging to see every infected in the area swarming towards Castle Avenue.

‘They’ve seen it,’ Paula says.

‘Is my faults!’ Sergei says, stricken at his mistake.

‘We need to go back in,’ Paula says. ‘We’ll punch through again.’

‘Not a scooby,’ Tappy says. ‘The Saxon just about got out. Way too many.’

‘They’re swarming the rear too,’ Reginald says.

‘Boss?’ Blowers says, passing a bottle of Lucozade to Howie.

‘Orange? What the fuck? Where’s the Original? I’m joking!’ he says at Paula’s expression.

‘Then we just go in and do what we can,’ Paula says as the others nod, but Howie holds a hand up to motion them to wait while he downs the bottle until empty. Lowering it with a gasp and a burp.

‘Excuse me. That was nice. No. We attack all four sides at once. Lilly. Get some people up from the fort and hit the north-western side from that road there on the screen.’

‘That’s Romsey Road,’ Roy says.

‘You hit from there. Make noise. Go loud. Krakov,’ Howie says, turning to see him, ‘do the same and get more people. You hit from that side. That road there. You fight in to these plaza things. My team will go back into the High Street. We hit hard and inflict losses. We do that enough, and the CP will pull more away from the centre to send against us.’

‘That’ll thin the middle area,’ Henry says as he grasps the concept.

‘I’ll jump back in with you,’ Charlie says to Blowers.

‘No. Stay with Carmen,’ Henry says. ‘I want you to find that CP and kill it. Let’s move people!’

Mary rushes away to use the other radio to call the fort. Popov the same. Putting the call in.

‘Tilda!’ Henry calls. ‘Get that other regiment up here. We need everyone! We need everything. No excuses! No delays!’

Tilda does the same and steps out to put the call in on her radio.

‘Okay, my teams,’ Carmen calls, nodding to get them in close. ‘Hang tight, actually. Am I losing Lilly and Mary?’

‘Yes. And Kyle,’ Howie says. ‘I want them attacking from Romsey Road.’

‘I spoke to Tilly,’ Mary calls. ‘She’ll be quick as anything, she will.’

‘Our people is coming!’ Popov calls with a thumbs up.

‘Alright, that’s me and Charlie, Frank and Mads, Jonesy and Bash. Three teams,’ Carmen says. ‘Reggie? Where’s best to focus our search?’ she asks and gets into the command vehicle to see the screens.

‘I’d perhaps suggest you focus on the High Street and this upper area. It stands to reason the CP will want to keep line of sight.’

‘What about me?’ Marcy asks.

‘Tappy? Those outer roads are quite empty, aren’t they?’ Henry asks.

‘Yeah, the fuckers are in the middle. Apart from the train station. That’s mental up there.’

‘Okay, Marcy. Take the bus with Ali and Tam and harass them. Keep moving. Put fire in. Cull the numbers. That’s our game here!’ Henry calls to them all. ‘Get the numbers down. Kill anything you see. Then when it thins out, whoever is closest goes for the rescue. Understood?’

Shouts come back. A plan set and made, and as ever, any plan is better than no plan at all.

‘And me?’ Tilda asks.

‘Can you fire a fifty-cal?’ Tappy asks her.

‘Bloody right I can. Okay if I jump in the Saxon?’ she asks as Henry gives a thumbs up.

‘What we doing with the nuke?’ Nick calls.

‘In here,’ Henry shouts over, nodding at the command vehicle.

‘Then load up; we’re going straight back in,’ Howie adds. ‘Tappy, drop us off, then come back for Lilly and Krakov. Get them in place.’

‘There was a tower in that Guildhall,’ Roy calls while hefting bags of arrows from the supply van and grabbing his bow. ‘I’ll get some cover on you.’

‘Is sniper nest?’ Elka asks, ditching her assault rifle to take the long Dragunov. ‘I come too.’

‘Bring ammo. Lots of it,’ Roy says, already running for the Saxon.

‘Howie, are you not waiting for the others to arrive?’ Paula asks.

‘Nope. We hit now. Krakov, don’t wait for the others. Same with you, Lilly. Get a gimpy up there and throw grenades. Make a scene. My team! Let’s go.’

Howie runs for the Saxon. The lads doing the same, but they’re not the only ones.

In the bay, Bobby’s crew bring vehicles to the beachside road, with Tilly leading a dozen women from the camp. All armed and running.

Ann and Anika in the medical tent, waiting to receive injured. Jock and Jack with them. Irritated and frustrated at being left behind. ‘What’s going on?’ Ann calls.

‘They’re calling for help!’ Tilly shouts. ‘Mary said there’s a wee lad stuck in the middle with some old army guys that Clarence knows. Thousands of the zombie sods all around them.’

A split-second for the four to look at each other, and they grab rifles and medical bags and start running for the ambulance parked up at the end of the beach. Team Lilly through and through.

‘What about George?’ Jock asks.

‘Fuck, Georgie,’ Jack growls, running for the ambulance. ‘I’ll drive, doc!’

Doors slamming. Engines revving, and the vehicles pull away, quickly gathering speed.

The same at Christ’s Hospital. The Number One Regiment of older children already standing to. Armed and kitted up, and ready to either bug out or receive injured. A shout on the radio. A call to arms.

Matthew Rogers hears it with a sudden gleam that he can fix his fragile ego, and he rushes out to shout needless orders as they race for the vehicles.

Jess with them. Running for the horse lorry. Gavin trying to usher her away, but she gets inside and bucks with impatience to be off and moving. The lad falters, then slams the back up, and runs for the front to drive out with the others.

The same within the grounds of Krakov’s mansion. Men and women carrying crates of ammunition and grenades, and weapons into vehicles. Shouts going up. Orders yelled. Doors slamming. Engines revving. They pull out into rainy night getting colder by the hour.

A feeling of joy in The Great Hall because they’ve been seen. They’ve been found, and the cavalry are coming. They smile and hug, and feel a rare burst of hope inside, but then the drone overhead goes dark and flies off, and all around them, they hear the great swell of snarls and hisses as the infected ramp with energy and surge into Castle Avenue and the plazas. A great tidal wave of noise coming at them from all sides.

‘She saw the drone,’ Bev whispers the words as the joy turns to horror. ‘Elaine saw the bloody drone!’

Stomachs drop. Hearts lurch. Noises all around them. Loud bangs as the infected throw themselves at the doors to the court building attached to one side and the council offices on the other in Castle Avenue. Scrapes at the big front doors in The Great Hall. Scrapes at the back door. A soft thud. A loud bang. The snarls closer. Angrier.

They stand in silence inside. Turning their heads this way and that at the noises. Knowing they’ve been found.

‘Make ready,’ Bev whispers.

‘MAKE READY!’ Tappy shouts in the Saxon as they power back along Eastgate Street towards the bottom of the High Street. Tilda on the fifty-cal. Roy and Elka inside. Tappy thumbing through her music player until she finds it. ‘Ha! This is for you, Elka!’ she shouts and hits play. The track starts. Electronic and jaunty, with a solid beat. “Take me to Russia” by XS Project. Rave-like dance music that makes Elka grin with delight.

‘I knows this!’ she yells as the fifty-cal comes to life above them, and the next part of the war starts proper. The Saxon flying through the junction to slam through the horde. Making a long, hard turn to the right. Clinging to the building line and splatting zombies as Tappy aims for the Guildhall.

‘They’re coming back,’ Mike tells the others in the hall. ‘We’re digging in!’

In the Saxon, Howie glances at Roy and Elka getting ready to run for it. ‘You both sure about this? You’ll be on your own.’

‘Is okay. We have each others,’ Elka says with a wink to Roy.

‘How. The. Fuck?’ Blowers asks, shaking his head again.

‘STOPPING!’ Tappy shouts, slamming on the brakes. The back doors open. The lads jump out. Rifles up and firing. Clarence on the PKM. Holding space behind them for Roy and Elka to jump down and run through the doors of the smashed in fish and chip shop and past the digger Mike used. Smelling the fumes of fire and burnt flesh. Elka’s tac-vest and rucksack full of magazines and carrying bags of arrows for Roy. Roy’s back laden with them. His bow in his other hand.

‘Go!’ Howie shouts into his radio. Their rifles put back inside, and he slams the back doors closed, with Tappy driving away.

Elaine Sotheby grunts in annoyance. Knowing the idiot soldiers have come back. An order willed, and several hundred hosts turn from aiming up the High Street to Howie behind them with an instant surge of rage. Screeches fill the air as they charge at once.

‘COME ON, FUCKERS!’ Howie shouts as he leads the charge at them. His axe already held overhead ready for the first kill.

It gets brutal fast. Close-quarters killing, with the lads butchering anything in reach. Dave slicing throats as Clarence slams his metal fist into a skull. Killing an infected with one blow. He backswings into another. Using the weight of it like a weapon. Bursting another skull, then another, and another.

Tappy drives fast. Powering along Eastgate Street to the compound. Lilly, Mary, and Kyle waiting alongside Krakov and Popov. They clamber inside as The Beast pulls out and sets off. Tappy taking the Saxon out behind it. Overtaking to go north and west around the train station to the far end of Romsey Road. A quick stop. Kyle, Lilly, and Mary jump out with two general purpose machine guns between them and belts of ammunition. Grenades and rifles, and tac-vests laden with mags. They set off running as the Saxon pulls out again. Tilda up on the turret. Putting rounds in from the fifty-cal because Howie and Henry said every kill counts.

Tappy finds a way into the town behind the museums, onto St James’ Lane, then down to the junction for another rapid stop.

‘Good luck!’ she shouts.

‘We get berries!’ Krakov yells with a laugh; then she’s off again. Leaving them tabbing along Southgate Street to start attacking their side. Popov carrying two PKMs with large capacity drums. Krakov gripping a 30mm grenade launcher with its own large capacity drum. An opening on the left. They take it quickly through a car park. The cars blown up by Mike and Sophie when they made their distractions.

Trafalgar Street ahead. The back of the tiered plazas. The road clogged with infected swarming through those plazas and into Castle Avenue. The Crown Court building across the road. The doors already smashed in with infected inside. Searching for the child.

They come to a stop and make ready.

The same on Romsey Road, where the others come to a stop. Lilly and Mary going prone to brace their machine guns on the small tripods. The bolts yanked. The safeties switched off.

‘Here we go,’ Paula murmurs. Seeing both of their positions from the drone high over Castle Street, and the firing starts.

Lilly and Mary putting rounds into the big junction ahead. Firing bursts from their machine guns, with Kyle feeding both belts.

Popov firing a PKM while Krakov snarls and fires the grenade launcher, sending the first missile through an upstairs window of the Crown Court building, with the resulting explosion and fire ball making him grin.

He peppers the whole building. Through windows and on the street. Blowing walls and windows out. Bodies flying. Flames starting. Fire and death.

The Beast on Union Steet, pulling up next to the junction with Sussex Street. A long straight road leading to the same junction Lilly’s small unit is firing into from the other direction. Marcy gets out of her seat to a machine gun at a window. A shout to Ali and Tam, and three more guns set to work. Pouring rounds along the street to cut them down. Because as Howie and Henry said, every kill counts.

They hear it in The Great Hall. Gun fire and explosions on multiple sides. Mike gets it instantly. Seeing a map of Winchester city centre in his mind. ‘They’re trying to draw them out,’ he whispers to the others. ‘We’ve just got to hold on!’

It becomes a race.

A race for Elaine to find them.

A race for Howie and the others to inflict losses until the CP reacts and pulls resources away from The Great Hall.

A race in the compound, where Paula snaps her head over, seeing lights in the distance coming closer. Engines. Vehicles.

She runs out onto the road with a sense of relief inside at the reinforcements arriving. The Number One Regiment from the school.

She waves them into the compound as the first bus stops, with Matthew Rogers leaping out to snap a smart salute. Paula grunts at seeing him. Henry tuts and rolls his eyes, but the lad rushes over, eager to please and ready to work.

‘Get our defences rigged first!’ Henry calls to them. ‘I want two machine gun positions facing that main road. Munitions are in that van. Get to it!’

‘Yes, sir! Major, sir! You heard the Major! Two machine gun posts!’ Rogers shouts needlessly. ‘Quickly now!’

A moment later, and more lights bathe the road as Jack leads the way in the ambulance. Seeing older teenage soldiers waving them in. Another convoy arriving. A rush inside of Paula. A sudden feeling that she can’t quite understand.

Then she gets it, and the hairs on her neck stand on end because they are not alone anymore. They have resources to call. It should have always been this way, but then, maybe she and Howie had to do what they did to create the legend and the belief for people to buy into. So they know they can fight back, and they can win.

That’s what it took. That hardship and suffering was so they can do this, and suddenly she sees the pink berets in a whole new light and grasps why Blowers was defensive about who can wear one and why they are so coveted.

‘How ye doing?’ Tilly asks, running over to the command vehicle as Paula clocks the pink material tied around her arm. The same on everyone else. All of them. Everyone. Even Sergei. ‘Where do ye want us?’ Tilly asks. A small woman but with a defiant energy radiating from her core.

‘Where’s George?’ Henry asks.

‘Ach, the wee man never left his office,’ Tilly says with a look of distaste. ‘But we’ve a dozen here itching to get stuck in.’

‘We’ll get you in,’ Paula says. ‘Ann! Oh, my god. Anika!’

‘We’re here to help, Paula!’ Ann calls. ‘We’re set up for triage, and we’ve got an ambulance. We can go where you need us.’

‘And what’s Jess doing here?’ Paula asks, seeing the horse lorry as Gavin holds his hands out and pulls a face like what could he do?

‘Where’s Lilly?’ Jack asks as Paula blinks at the pace ramping up. At the sudden escalation in size as their Forward Control Point becomes a defined base.

‘Go with Tilly, Jack. You’re going to assault this section here,’ Paula says, showing them the screens. ‘Howie is attacking here. We’ve got Krakov attacking this side.’

‘Krakov?’ Jock asks. ‘I thought you were taking him out?’

‘Nope. He’s on our side. Tappy’s coming back. Get in the Saxon and get to Lilly. There is a child we need to extract in this building. We draw the infected out.’

‘Got any ammo? We’re light,’ Jack asks.

‘In that van. Grab what you need,’ Paula tells them as the well-drilled teenagers construct machine gun posts, and the Saxon roars back to the compound. A thing of awe. Blasting music and dripping blood. The top half of a human form wedged in the front wheel arch. The arms banging limply against the side of the vehicle. Tilda in the turret, swapping barrels and changing the magazine drum.

Tilly grabs ammunition with Jock and Jack. Swapping over for AKs and grabbing grenades and bags to hold mags. Then they’re off and cramming into the Saxon.

A minute after they leave, the vehicles sweep in from Krakov’s house. Men and women from across central Asia and Russia, and Eastern Europe. Recruited by Krakov individually. They shout in Russian. In Chinese. In English, but to the last, they arm up and get ready while getting updates from Sergei and Paula.

A short distance away, Carmen and her team turn into the side streets leading to town. C8 rifles with suppressors. Night vision goggles on. Hunter killers with a task to seek and destroy the CP.

The three teams break apart from each other. Carmen and Charlie. Frank and Maddox. Bash and Jonesy. Each with a designated block to search as they work towards the High Street.

Gunfire from The Beast further along. The fifty-cal on the Saxon starting up as Tappy takes the fighters from the fort and the bay to Lilly.

Grenades blowing across town from Krakov emptying the drum on his 30mm launcher.

At the base of the High Street, Howie takes another head off, and Dave cuts a throat as Clarence breaks another skull. The lads laying waste to them. Making a scene. Creating a spectacle. Being seen. Being heard. Going loud.

Elaine senses them all, but her focus remains on the blind child, and her hosts slam into the doors on the buildings flanking Castle Avenue. The detached row on the left and the row on the right that feeds into The Great Hall at the end. She sends them at that building too, and inside, Mike and Bev, and the others back away from the sudden loud repeated thuds at the doors. Human forms slamming into them. Growls and snarls. Thor flaps his wings. Samy calms him, and they wait for the inevitable.

The race underway.

A snarl from Elaine. An irritation at being harassed on her flanks. She wills the order, with chunks from each side breaking away to charge at the attackers.

‘Fuck yes!’ Paula says in the command vehicle at seeing they’ve gained a reaction. ‘Lilly! Krakov! They’re coming at you!’

Lilly can see them. A whole swathe breaking away from the junction to charge along Romsey Road, and the violence surges within her. The machine gun empty. On her feet and staring them down. ‘See me,’ she whispers. ‘SEE ME!’ she screams out, drawing her machete to hold overhead. Mary cursing and drawing hers. Kyle the same. Drawing his pistols. One in each hand as his lips snarl to show his teeth.

‘Ye heathen bastards!’

The horde charges. Lilly yells and runs. Those three. Just those three going into them.

‘Fuck me, she’s a red alright,’ Paula says, seeing it on the monitor as the Saxon comes in hot behind Lilly, braking hard, with Tilly and a dozen girls from the camp swarming out. Rifles swung and knives ready, and they run into the fray. Slamming deep to fight alongside Lilly and Mary. Kyle gunning them down. Firing the right. Then the left. Then the right. Jock and Jack out of the Saxon and going wide to put rounds into the horde beyond the hand-to-hand combat. Their level of immunity not known.

A compression on Howie. A surge coming in against them. But they’ve done this before. They’ve done this many times, and so they fight harder, and they fight faster, and the kill count grows.

The Beast pulls into the now secure compound. Sentries on duty. Teenagers with assault rifles and wearing NATO helmets. Torches shining. Marcy comes to a stop and yanks the lever, with Tam leaning out. ‘Sasha! Joey! Filipe! Becka! With us…’

‘I’m coming!’ Matthew Rogers shouts, running with others.

‘Are you fuck,’ Tam says.

‘I am a corporal!’

‘You’re a cunt, more like. And you’re not fucking up my chance of getting a beret.’

‘Major Tanners!’ Matthew shouts, turning to tell teacher as the other four get on The Beast with a start at the casings already on the floor.

‘Go!’ Tam says as the bus pulls away. ‘You four, listen in. Burst fire only. Be sure of your targets. We have assets in that area. Do not shoot our own!’

Back out and onto Union Street, but this time along the southern edge towards the High Street. Passing the Saxon racing back towards the compound.

‘Howie! It’s Marcy. We’re coming in for fire support. Get to cover!’

‘Eh?’

‘GET TO COVER!’

‘GET TO COVER!’ Howie yells at Dave to repeat the order, and he bellows it out, with Clarence leading the way across the road as the first arrow takes an infected leaping at Johnny’s back through the neck. A dull, hard shot a split-second after it, and another infected flies off her feet next to Bibi as Elka aims and fires.

‘Took ’em long enough!’ Nick yells as they run for the Guildhall.

‘Too busy flirting!’ Blowers shouts, earning snorts and laughs as The Beast sounds the horn and comes in from the side junction. ‘Don’t fucking shoot us!’ Blowers yells.

‘Run then!’ Marcy shouts as they sprint and dive for cover through the busted in doors to the Guildhall, and Tam gives the order. Her and Ali letting rip. Marcy out of her seat to join in. The other four hesitating for a second from the speed of it all. ‘They’re not people!’ Marcy tells them, seeing their hesitation. ‘Trust me, they will tear you apart without thinking. I should know. I was one,’ she adds in a murmur, and the guns open up. Pouring rounds in to give support as Howie and the lads gasp and suck air.

The Saxon leaves the compound again. Krakov’s bigger team on board, and they follow after The Beast and go past it on the non-firing side to work around, and back up to Krakov and Popov. The two men forced to give ground with a tactical retreat. The reinforcements debus and add their support. Guns firing and grenades going in. The advance stopped, and Krakov yells out as he presses the charge to take his ground back.

The three hunter-killer teams focussing on the buildings closest to the High Street. Bash kicking a door in, with Jonesy sweeping past him. Rifle up and sweeping the room. ‘Clear!’

A C4 charge against the outer wall, and they bug out to get cover. A second to check. She detonates it with a whump and a sheet of fire, and the wall blows out.

Maddox doing the same in the next block along. Booting a door and learning from Frank. How he moves. How he checks his sides. Calm. Controlled. Not panicked. Not flapping. It’s like a duck to water for Maddox. But then as Henry so often said, kids growing up in inner city slums often already have good skills. Carmen did, and Maddox does now. Sweeping into a room and calling clear.

Back out they go to the rear of the building. A snarl from alley at the side. Infected coming in fast. Too many to fight silently. Maddox flicks the safety and fires into them. Frank at his side, doing the same.

Seven infected killed. Seven less to think about, and on they go. They throw charges back in and take cover to detonate. Exploding the buildings. Bringing walls down. Causing fires. Creating carnage.

Making war.

Charlie and Carmen one block up. Carmen on point, going up a set of internal stairs. Apartment doors at the top. All locked.

‘Don’t bother,’ Charlie says and brings her attention to the thick undisturbed dust on the floor.

‘Skills,’ Carmen says, fist bumping her protégé as they start back down with Charlie in the lead. Taking them out to start along to the next. Four outside. More coming. She shouts a warning and fires into them. Carmen the same. Four infected dropped, and they run to the next door. Carmen triggers the explosives she planted behind them. Big bangs and whumps. Fire and heat, and bricks raining down.

Howie didn’t tell them to do it, but then as Carmen said, they’re operatives, and it’s their duty to think independently, and so they create havoc. Setting fires and detonating bombs.

Being seen.

Being heard.

‘Come on! Send more,’ Paula says into the screens.

‘Is it working?’ Howie gasps through the radio as Lilly draws back. Her horde now dead, and they make ready to put fire into the junction once more.

Krakov and his team back near Trafalgar Street. Changing mags and making ready.

Tappy and Tilda in the Saxon, heading back to the High Street.

Paula in the command vehicle. Studying the screens with Reginald, Henry, and Sergei.

‘We’re getting kills, Howie,’ Henry transmits, ‘but the mass is focussed in Castle Avenue.’

‘Are they not thinning out at all?’

‘Negative, Howie. Not yet.’

And the doors rattle and shake in the Great Hall, and the infected outside start clambering over each other to reach the high windows. Both sides under attack. No way out. The pressure growing. The big doors still solid, but the hinges are old, and so are the bricks they are fitted into, and they’re working loose.

‘Pitter patter! Let’s get at her!’ Howie says into the radio. ‘Attack harder. Lilly! Krakov! GO AT THEM!’

Lilly nods. Sensing the same need inside. That this isn’t the time for passive attack. This is the time to charge and go into them.

‘Howie, it’s Marcy. They’re charging at us. We need to get out. The Beast can’t take too many hitting her. She’s too low to the ground.’

‘Marcy, it’s Tappy. I’m coming in now. Stay behind me. I’ll force a path out.’

‘Right. We’re having these cunts,’ Howie says in the doorway as the firing stops coming from The Beast.

‘Get ready,’ Roy says in the parapet of the tower, slotting an arrow as Elka changes mag and takes aim through the night vision scope on her rifle. ‘Howie will charge them. He’ll go deep into the High Street.’

‘NOW!’ Howie shouts into his radio and runs from the building as Lilly and Krakov give voice and launch their charges.

Three teams running towards the flanks and edges of that mighty horde dominating the city centre.

Arrows flying in. Taking them down as Roy protects his team. Elka putting shots in. Each one taking an infected down. The empty casings spinning out to drop at their feet. Bang. Bang. Bang. Two arrows in flight as Roy works up to his speed. Each one a kill.

Howie snarling as he runs through them. Slicing left. Slicing right. Going deep.

Lilly the same. Leading her team into the horde. Taking the fight to them. Mary and Tilly cutting them down. Kyle with a knife.

Krakov slamming his cudgel into heads. Popov slicing them down. His team with machetes, clubs, and swords.

Ann and Anika back at the compound. The ambulance ready. Their bags ready. The teenagers on their machine gun posts being ordered to do what they’re already doing by Matthew Rogers.

‘That’s better,’ Paula says, willing them all on as they watch the screens in the command vehicle. Kills scored every second. Grenades going in.

Charlie and Carmen at an upstairs window. Smashing the glass to fire into the horde below. Throwing C4 charges out like they are grenades. Explosions sounding out.

Frank pushes into a building and stops dead from the smell of gas. A quick check, and he spots gas bottles and nail bombs left and prepped, then a big smiley face hand-painted on the wall with rough words underneath.

3-Para!: Mike and Sophie say hi!

‘Scottish Mike!’ Frank says with a grin at Maddox. ‘Get out there and lure ’em here!’

Maddox runs for it. Into the High Street to shoot several down. Gaining the attention of more that turn to chase him. A few dozen at least. He follows Frank into the building, then up the stairs, and along to see Mike had prepped an exfil route. They both pause, with Frank pulling a grenade pin and waiting for the infected to run in below. He drops the grenade to let it bounce down the stairs and roll between the feet of the snarling infected.

The grenade explodes, igniting the gas trapped in the room as the whole thing blows. Making Frank and Maddox cry out half in alarm and half from the thrill as they run through a long corridor. Feeling the rumble in the building all around them.

Another flight of steps down and out the back as the gas bottles and nail bombs explode. Taking a whole swathe of infected down.

More kills scored.

More by the second.

But it’s not enough.

And in The Great Hall, the ancient, stained glass windows break from heads ramming into them.

They grip their rifles and stand ready. Another window breaks. Another and another. The doors rattle, and one hinge pops free. Then another.

Gunfire from all sides. Explosions. Detonations.

More kills scored.

More by the second.

But it’s not enough.

Lilly snarling with fury. Killing faster than any of her group.

Howie the same. Slaying them down. His team decimating every infected coming at them. Arrows in flight. Sniper shots booming out.

Krakov and his team of experienced combat veterans slaughtering dozens more.

Jonesy and Bash pouring fire from the corner of an alley to fight through to the next building.

Charlie lobbing a grenade in.

Carmen detonating C4.

Maddox running inside the building to check while Frank covers outside the door. Firing at legs to drop the charging front ranks and trip the ones behind.

But it’s not enough.

It’s nowhere near enough, and still the High Street remains thick with infected, and still they press into Castle Avenue and the plazas.

So many of them.

Too many of them.

And the pressure grows.

Pressure unrelenting as Paula watches them all.

The Beast at a junction firing into the High Street.

Tappy running them down. Tilda on the fifty-cal.

Fire and explosions.

Carnage and war.

Every single one of them doing everything they can.

But it’s not enough.

And the windows smash in The Great Hall, and the first infected rises higher on the backs of others and gains scent.

The scent of people.

And his red, bloodshot eyes see the dark forms within.

Elaine gasps. A rush inside. She’s got them. She’s fucking got them! An order willed. The energy ramps.

‘No!’ Paula shouts as Reginald grimaces from the sight of every infected surging towards The Great Hall.

Howie feels it too. The sudden roar going up from every infected in the High Street.

Lilly hears it at the big junction.

Krakov hears it in the plazas.

Roy and Elka hear it too, and from their position of height, they see the surge of energy in the infected as they press towards Castle Avenue.

And in The Great Hall, that old and ancient hall, the old and ancient windows shatter and break, and the lead frame starts to buckle. And those old and ancient hinges in the old and ancient walls break free, and all around them, they see the faces of the infected snarling and screeching. They can’t wait any longer. They hid for as long as they could. But now they fight.

‘FIRE!’ Bev orders, and the horribly loud gunfire erupts within the hall as they shoot at faces. Making infected drop away only to be replaced near instantly by more and more, and many more.

‘Fuck!’ Paula says, seeing muzzle flashes from within as defenders fight back, but it only seems to taunt the infected as the howl goes up. All of them giving voice and charging harder.

‘What is that?’ Howie shouts into his radio. Hearing it over the chaos around him.

‘They’ve found them, Howie,’ Paula’s voice in their ears. ‘They’re smashing at the windows. They’ve got rifles, and they’re firing back but…’

She trails off. Not needing to say it.

That what they did was not enough.

Paula lowers her head to look up at the screens. Thinking fast. Thinking hard.

She took a town out.

Without guns.

On her own.

Be that Paula.

Use what you have.

A memory of leading an infected horde into a street she’d prepped by soaking it with fuel and trapping them in coiled razor wire. But she doesn’t have razor wire, and sure as shit she doesn’t have fuel.

Fuel truck.

‘Roy! It’s Paula. Where are the petrol stations here?’

‘Er, there’s one up from the train station, and there’s a big supermarket one on the edge of that industrial estate, where we came in.’

‘There is spare fuel in command vehicle,’ Elka transmits. ‘Sergei knows this. Why ask for fuel?’

‘I don’t want fuel,’ Paula says. ‘I want a fucking fuel truck. Tappy! Find one.’

‘GO ON, PAULA! FUCK ‘EM UP!’ Howie yells with a pulse of dark energy that surges through them all, making Reginald grip his battle swatter and Henry’s face harden.

It makes Tappy drive faster and take corners at speed.

It makes Clarence punch faster. Slamming infected down. It makes Dave slice his blade into throats faster than before.

It gives energy to Charlie and Carmen as they gun their way into a restaurant and to the back stairs, and up to the flats.

That energy doesn’t reach Lilly, but she isn’t one of them. She is her own CP, and that need to visit violence explodes within her. The need to win and destroy her enemy, and every ounce of hatred for George and Polina detonates inside as she moves like Howie, with cold, seething rage spreading out to touch Mary and Kyle, and Tilly, and the others. All of them feeling it. All of them laying waste to everything around them.

But it’s still not enough.

Bev curses, changing mag. Knowing they don’t have that much to spare.

‘Fuck this,’ Olivia shouts, ditching her rifle and grabbing a spear from the weapons rack, and she runs at the window to skewer one through the eye. Jabbing in and pulling back, and doing it again. ‘FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!’ she screams out as Kev grabs another to do the same. The two of them covering one of the big windows.

‘I can’t decide what to use!’ Craig shouts into the chaos. The old joke making them sputter with laughter as they finally make noise and vent their nerves. He grabs a spear. Sophie. Debs. Jev. All of them stabbing at the faces to preserve ammunition.

Bev reloads the rifles and gathers the spare mags. Samy at her side. ‘When we go up on the roof, you stay behind me and Mike. Do you hear me, Samy?’

The boy nods. His face a mask of serenity. Not a flicker of worry shows. Not a frown or a grimace. It stills her actions. Making her stare at him in the chaos of that moment, and through the eyes of the bird, he detects her gaze and turns to smile. A rush inside of her. A surge of love that makes her grab the back of his skull and pull him in to kiss his forehead. ‘No regrets,’ she tells him. Then she’s up and grabbing a spear to stab and kill, and wage war.

But still. It’s not enough.

Tappy slams through the hordes near the train station. All of the infected surging harder towards The Great Hall. Tilda firing strafes. Tappy grimacing. Driving as fast as she can. The dog growling. Ready to fight. ‘Should be ahead!’ Tappy yells to Tilda. ‘I can’t see a fucking thing.’

‘I can see it!’ Tilda shouts down through the hole. Spotting the fuel station ahead. ‘Negative! No fuel truck!’

‘Shit! But then, why would there be?’ Tappy mutters, heaving the wheel around with a hand out to brace the dog from sliding over. She powers on and straightens to drive back to the FCP and the industrial estate.

Every second taken a second too long, and still the pressure grows as they throw everything they have to no effect because the numbers Elaine massed are simply too great, and they lay siege to The Great Hall while the attacking teams take small bites at the flanks. Too few and too puny to stop her.

But even so.

They are very fucking annoying, and knowing she has the child trapped, Elaine Sotheby breaks free from her hiding spot on the High Street and runs up at the side of the junction and in through the door of one of the buildings in Castle Avenue.

‘There!’ Sergei calls out, seeing a red figure in motion through the mass of dark yellows, but then it’s gone. ‘It went here!’ he says and motions Castle Avenue.

Paula, Reginald, and Henry stare at the spot, knowing there is no way in hell they can get anyone to it through that density. A sense of frustration inside. A sense of despondency and a growing fear of hopelessness that even their hardest is not doing anywhere near enough.

They’d need airstrikes and mortars, and tanks. Missiles and big bombs. They’ve got the nuke right there, but that boy. He’s a red. He’s one of them, and that old soldier and those others have fought back and held their line since this started, and that means something. It means everything because they are all so few. The people fighting back. So few of them, and so they won’t use the nuke. They won’t do it.

But then it gets worse.

Much worse because Elaine wills the order to take out the attackers harassing her flanks, and as one, great swathes of infected break free from that core nucleus within the High Street and within the plazas, and within the big junction to turn out and attack.

‘Oh, shit!’ Paula says, seeing it on the screens. ‘We saw the CP! She’s up in Castle Avenue. She’s sending them at you! BRACE!’

The warning wasn’t needed.

They all see it.

Howie. Lilly. Krakov.

Great numbers coming at their positions. Charging with fury and a sudden compression that near on lifts each team and pushes them back.

It becomes brutally violent within a split-second and so compressed that they can’t swing weapons freely but have to stab and hack. Bodies pressing in all sides. Lilly’s eyes wild as she stabs into a neck, then another, and another. Mary the same. Their faces dripping blood. Tilly climbing up onto the broad back of an infected male. Riding him like a bucking horse and stabbing out into anything around her. Jack and Jock putting rounds in. Throwing grenades into the junction.

A scream from within the mass brawl, and Mary catches sight of another of her cousins going down. The infected clawing at Rose’s face and body. Tearing her open. Rose screams with fury and pulls the grenade from her pocket, and rips the pin away. Mary screams. Tilly the same. A dull whump as the grenade blows, only for that hole to be filled within a split-second.

The same thing happening On Trafalgar Street. ‘Mishka!’ Krakov roars, seeing one of his men go down. Mikhail nearby. Slamming a club down onto a head as several infected slam into his body. Ripping him from his feet to take him along. Tearing into his limbs and neck. Biting flesh away as the man bellows and clubs at them. An infected slams into Krakov but gets flung away with ease. Popov nearby, deadly and strong, and battering them down, but still they get pushed back, and still the compression intensifies.

Reginald takes it in. Seeing Krakov and Lilly being driven back and losing people. A glance to Howie, and still the sight makes him gasp. Howie’s team in a circle, near on shoulder to shoulder, but refusing to be compressed or give ground. Hundreds of infected swarming at them from all sides at once, only to get taken down and killed. A sight to see. A sight to behold, but then Howie has been doing it since the start. From that second day when he ran into the DIY store with Dave in Boroughfare and waged his own war. From then until now, and it shows as they become their own nucleus. A static circle within a mass of motion. Unyielding. But the others don’t have that experience and skill yet.

‘We need support on Lilly and Krakov,’ Reginald says; a quick look to Paula, then Henry. ‘Howie can cope. The others need help.’

‘Roy! It’s Paula. Get to Krakov. You’re closest. He needs support. Howie can cope. Get to Krakov! Marcy, can you support Lilly’s position?’

‘We already are! We’re firing into that junction!’

‘Lilly just lost another of hers,’ Reginald says.

‘Right. We’re going in,’ Paula says as Henry nods and grabs his rifle and machete.

‘You hold position here,’ Henry orders to Sergei and Reginald as they jump out and run for the closest vehicle. ‘You five! With me,’ Henry shouts to a group of the teenage soldiers nearby.

‘I can come!’ Matthew Rogers yells, running towards.

‘Negative. Remain,’ Henry says curtly, slamming the door closed as Matthew comes to a stop with a flinch at being told no again.

They speed off as Roy and Elka quickly descend the old narrow stairwell from the Guildhall tower and out into the road. Bedlam further up. The infected all charging at Howie and the lads, now unseen amidst the chaos. ‘This way,’ Roy says, feeling the instinct to stay and fight with his team, but knowing he has to trust Command to give the right orders. He runs with Elka along the alley to the back of the Guildhall. Both laden with bags of arrows and magazines. An infected ahead running at them. Roy fires the already nocked arrow, taking it through the eye. A shot next to him. Elka hip-firing the rifle to drop another.

On they run as fast as they can to skirt The Square, seeing the signs of the war waged by Scottish Mike and his group. The City Museum they fought in. The ancient church they took refuge in and fled from.

‘Alley ahead, Roy!’ Reginald says into their earpieces. Guiding them through rat-runs and gardens. ‘Ahead of you is Southgate Street. Get on the roof of that block ahead. They’re all terraced and connected.’

‘On it,’ Roy transmits as they sprint for it and smash through a door to the beauty salon, where Sophie picked up part-time hours, and through to the back. Kicking a locked internal door open, then up the internal stairs to the top. The air musty and stale. Up they go to the very top and a trapdoor in the ceiling on the landing, and a warning sign from the landlord telling residents not to access the flat roof. They break the lock and drag the fitted sliding steps down, and clamber up through the void, then out onto the flat roof. The rain pelting them instantly. The bags of arrows passed up. The rifle too. Roy’s hand goes down and helps Elka up. The sounds of battle reaching them. A great and awful noise of screeches and howls and men and women fighting. They run across the flat roof and over apex tiled rooftops of terraced buildings. Sending slates and tiles sliding off until they reach the rooftop overlooking Trafalgar Street. Bags down. Bow readied. Rifle steadied.

An arrow in flight.

A shot taken.

Two infected either side of Krakov go down as he snaps his head up to see the silhouettes of his daughter and Roy on the roof.

But it’s still not enough.

The van hits Romsey Road. Henry at the wheel. Paula next to him. The teenage soldiers from the school’s Number One Regiment in the back looking scared witless.

‘Find Jack and Jock! Put fire in where they say!’ Paula tells them.

‘BRACE!’ Henry shouts, slamming the van into the edge of the horde. Mowing a few down before he slams the brakes on. The teenagers jump out and run through the chaos to the two older men on the far side. Paula and Henry run for the solid nucleus. Machetes already dripping blood from the kills scored as they rush in to help Lilly.

But it’s not enough.

Every old and ancient window in The Great Hall now broken and smashed. Blood pouring down the walls from the spears going in and out of heads and necks. The doors slowly giving in. Noise and chaos, and war on all sides.

‘That door,’ Samy calls calmly, seeing it all in wonderful, rich colours. Bev glances over, seeing the rear door to the gardens looking ready to give way. ‘Mike!’

‘On it,’ he shouts, running over to grab the two leads. One black. One red. A car battery on the ground. ‘TAKE COVER!’ he yells as the others drop to the floor, with Debs covering her son as Mike makes the connection that sends the electrical current through the wires to the IED planted outside. The detonation is instant. Sending nails and screws flinging in all directions in the rear gardens. Fire and debris slamming through the broken windows. Kills scored. Many at once.

But they’re replaced instantly, and still, it isn’t enough, and when the new ones charge, they slam the door so hard it buckles in.

‘Get him up!’ Bev gives the order, grabbing Samy around the waist. Kev and Olivia grab shields and maces and run to the door as it buckles in, and they lay waste to the first few coming through. Buying time for Mike and Sophie, and Craig to grab rifles and put rounds in while Bev prepares to climb the scaffolding with Samir.

‘I can do it! I can see,’ he tells her and wriggles free to clamber deftly up the tower.

‘My team! Find a way to Castle Avenue. We’re taking that CP,’ Carmen calls into her radio as the three teams of hunter-killers work harder to get from building to building and work up alongside the High Street. Using guile and cunning to work through the hordes.

But they are too slow, and no matter what they do, what any of them do, it won’t be enough.

Reginald tenses. Desperately thinking what to do as two vehicles blast past the FCP on the main road. Making Reginald and Sergei, and the rest of the teenage soldiers all turn to watch.

‘Oh my,’ Reginald says mildly as Tappy drives the Saxon onto Eastgate Street and powers along, hearing the gears grinding behind her. Tilda behind the wheel of the truck they found. Jolting and bouncing it along. They hit the junction too fast, with the truck sending Alfred the Great flying from his plinth to embed headfirst into the public toilets.

‘Chaps. Reginald here! You need to get to cover! Repeat. GET TO COVER!’

Howie hears something in his ear. Reggie’s voice. It sounds like a warning, but the intensity around him is too great.

‘HOWIE! BLOODY MOVE!’ Reginald shouts, seeing the truck building speed. But still Howie can’t hear it, and on Romsey Road, another one of the women from the camp goes down as Henry and Paula add their blades to the fight, and the teenagers fire assault rifles. Jack and Jock the same, but they’ve fired too many rounds too quickly, and their weapons are too hot. A glance to each other. A snarl on each, and they draw knives and run for it. Stabbing the closest infected through their necks.

Marcy in The Beast, pouring fire along a side street towards the junction. Every shot a kill, but every infected they take down is replaced by two more.

Roy and Elka on the flat roof firing with everything they have, but it’s not enough. Another one of Krakov’s team goes down. ‘Zarina!’ Elka cries out, seeing her friend ripped off her feet. Her stomach opened and the insides dragged out as she screams in agony. Elka fires a round into her head. A mercy shot for her old friend. Another roar. A bellow of fury as infected throw themselves at Krakov, aiming at the big man in the middle. He flings one away, but two more come, another three, more at his legs. He stays upright but more hit, and he starts to topple. Elka aims and fires with care. Roy the same, but it’s not enough, and the infected bite deep. Tearing flesh open down to the bone. Krakov roars, and Popov wades in as Elka and Roy fire from the roof.

Clarence in the High Street. A head taller than the others, and in the midst of the carnage of war, he notices flashing lights and finally spots powerful headlights flicking on and off. Realisation on his face. ‘FALL BACK!’ he roars, finally making his team look to see it, and as one they cry out and run for the side. The infected going after them. Heedless to the thing driving along the road.

More than thirty tons of a fully laden, fast-moving fuel lorry coming straight for them.

Tilda Tanners behind the wheel.

Her face a mask of fury and fear, and exhilaration. All of those things at once. Her foot to the floor. Building speed.

Tappy behind, ready to get Tilda out, so they can detonate the truck.

The back door of The Great Hall now fully down. The entrance clogged with dead infected. The front door giving way. The lead frame in the windows buckling and bending in. Arms and clawed hands reaching through as the people within work a retreat to the base of the tower. Debora and Jevram already climbing up. Olivia and Kev still at the back door. Mike and Sophie at the other door. Craig spearing the windows.

Tilda builds speed. Slamming bodies aside. Crushing them under the wheels. The lorry found at the supermarket fuel station, having been ditched by a terrified driver on the night it began. The battery dead that took Tappy a few moments to get going, with Tilda taking the wheel. An army course in lorry driving done many years ago. And now she drives it deep through the infected. Killing dozens as she goes.

But it’s not enough.

‘FUCK!’ Paula screams out, feeling the compression intensify. Giving ground. Driven back.

Krakov down. Cut and hurt. Elka’s face showing her fear as she fires and fires, and her shoulder recoils with each shot.

And in The Great Hall, one strip of lead within a window frame breaks, with an infected pushing through to be speared by Craig, but this one falls inside, not outside, and it takes Craig a second to kill it, and another gets through. Then another and another. Craig spears one as the other launches into him. Taking him down. Debora screams. Mike snaps his head over and runs for it as two more dive on Craig and bite into his neck. Ripping the flesh away, with his artery ruptured. Mike shoots them dead and goes to give aid to Craig, but more come through the window, and the front door buckles another few inches.

‘Shoot me!’ Craig gasps, drowning in his own blood, and in the panic of that second, knowing he is putting the others at risk by trying to save him, Craig pulls his pistol and puts a round through his own skull.

‘NO!’ Debora screams. The others jolted by their first loss in weeks.

‘Help them!’ Kev shouts as Livvy turns to launch Sophie at the tower.

‘Get up!’ she shouts. ‘Mike! Go! Bev, you too!’ Livvy yells at them to go. By far their best fighter in this arena. Kev at the back door. The others climbing the tower, putting rounds into the windows.

But it’s not enough.

And so Tilda goes faster and sweeps past Howie and his team taking cover, and drives deeper into the High Street. Using the weight and mass of the truck to get through the horde.

‘TOO FAR! TOO FAR!’ Tappy yells, seeing the wake behind the fuel truck already clogged too dense to let the Saxon get through. ‘TILDA! COME BACK!’

But Tilda won’t go back.

She can’t.

She’s in it now. Driving deeper. Going further than she should. Fear and dread, and hope, and glory, and memories of her life flashing through her mind. The things she did. The places she saw. The men she loved.

Faces slam into the windscreen. Sending spider web cracks through the glass. The wing mirrors get ripped off. The truck bounces, and the howls erupt. But she’s doesn’t hear it. She hears only the music of her life as her brain floods her body with endorphins in a final preparatory act to give peace before death.

‘Oh god, no,’ Tappy gasps, coming to a stop. Realising what’s happening. ‘Tilda! TILDA!’

Reginald in the command vehicle seeing it too. Sergei staring at the screen. Not blinking. Not breathing.

Carmen and Charlie sprinting between buildings as they see the fuel truck pass by on the High Street. A look to each other. A sudden unspoken understanding, and they veer off.

Frank and Maddox the same. Seeing it pass by. Running for cover.

Bash and Jonesy ahead. Already nearing Jewry Street. The fuel truck behind them. Powering past The Buttercross Monument. The lorry only then starting to slow from the sheer press of the bodies. The infected flinging themselves at the wheels. Clogging the arches. Blocking airflows and bringing the great lorry to a shuddering, grinding stop.

And inside the cabin of that truck, as the windows on either side crack and ready to break from the heads smashing into them. Tilda’s tear-streaked face looks down at the detonator in her lap. The C4 charge already wedged against the tanker on the back. She picks it up. Thinking to give final words through the radio as the driver’s window smashes, and the infected launches through so fast it slams her down onto the seat. She thrashes to get free, dropping the detonator as more pile in and the other windows break. Teeth on her arms and body. Nails tearing her flesh open. She screams and reaches for the detonator. Not hearing the voices on the radio.

Bash and Jonesy ahead, running for cover but stopping on hearing the comms. Reggie shouting for help. The sounds of Tilda screaming as her radio button is hit in the fight.

They have to blow it.

They have to do it.

Bash fires his assault rifle, but the power isn’t enough from the 5.56 suppressed rifle to penetrate the truck’s side at this distance. He runs towards it. Pulling a grenade as a roof tile smashes into the ground ahead of him, making him glance up to see Elka sliding down an apex roof with her sniper rifle. Landing on a flat section with a grunt as she spots the fuel truck in the road further along now smothered with infected.

No time for thinking.

No time for thought.

Because what they’ve done so far, isn’t enough.

And so Elka detaches the magazine from her rifle and pulls another one from a side pocket on her tac-vest.

The special magazine held in reserve that she slots in and yanks the bolt.

She aims.

She breathes.

She fires the armour-piercing 7.62 round that leaves her rifle at over eight hundred and thirty metres a second. Slamming into and through the side of the tanker, and in so doing, it generates enough heat to create the spark needed to ignite the contents within. That being the refined petroleum that expands with such energy and at such pace, that the whole of the tanker is blown apart within a fraction of a second.

It becomes like Gatwick.

Like hell on earth.

A mini nuke detonating within a confined space.

A fireball scorching dozens of metres in all directions. Along the High Street and every alley and side street with white hot chunks of metal slicing through human forms.

A fireball that roars past the eatery, with Bash inside having run for cover, shielded by a thick wooden table as he lies on top of Jonesy. Her wide eyes glancing from the hell outside, then back to the soft, brown eyes of the man on top of her. A rush inside. A release of chemicals from being so close to death again, and without knowing why, without rhyme or reason, she pulls him down to kiss him passionately. An instinct inside that they are about to die, and if so, then by fuck, she’ll go out like this.

And that fireball keeps going.

Forcing the pressure wave ahead of it as the mushroom cloud of flame rolls up into the air, making Elka drop and cover her head while Roy calmly glances with a squint, then goes back to work.

The fighters at the junction hear it a second before the pressure wave hits them. Knocking them all flat like one great, invisible wave pushed them over. The mushroom cloud going up. Filling the sky with flames that bring light to the darkness below.

Jock knocked senseless, but he comes to, feeling teeth tearing into his arms and legs, and he screams out, seeing the infected upon him. Another pain in his gut. A deep and searing agony.

Jack fights them away, then staggers as one gets on his back with teeth biting into his neck, severing the artery.

Tilly shouts first. Seeing the two guys covered by infected. She dives at them with Lilly and Mary as the fireball rips along the High Street. Eviscerating thousands of human forms in an instant and setting hundreds of fires on both sides. Whole buildings blown apart and reduced to nothing more than rubble.

Paula yells out, diving onto the back of an infected female to drag her away. Drawing her knife and hacking at the neck. Henry in amongst it. A glance up to see two of the teenage soldiers bitten and down. Clutching their stomachs as the agony of the infection takes them. Lilly standing over them. Her sidearm out. She fires into one child. Then the other. Killing them dead as Jack opens his red, bloodshot eyes with a snarl of fury. Lurching up as Lilly fires into the back of his head at point-blank range. Then another into Jock. Four executions. No expression. Calm. Ruthless.

Krakov already on the ground when the pressure wave hits, sending human forms flinging off as he roars and surges to his feet to see his left hand hanging by a thread of a tendon. A yell, and he draws his knife to cut it off and kicks it away.

Howie’s team took the worst of it. The closest to the tanker with the pressure wave lifting them off their feet to slam into buildings. Knocked senseless before the fireball scorches past them. Incredible heat and noise. Gatwick all over again. The pressure of it. The immensity.

Fragments of metal smash windows, and burning bodies fly past. Bricks and chimney stacks fall down.

‘UP! UP!’ Dave on his feet first. Grabbing at Johnny and Bibi. Then at Cookey until he spots Nick lying slumped at the base of a wall. His face covered in blood from a deep cut to his head. ‘MEDIC! NICK IS DOWN!’ Dave transmits, and hearing Dave’s voice coming through the radio sends the jolt of fear into the others.

Tappy slams her foot down and turns hard to go back for the High Street as Ann and Anika run for the ambulance and pull out fast, with Anika driving. Marcy rushing into the driver’s seat to get The Beast going. Speeding it down Union Street to meet the ambulance and the Saxon all racing towards the town.

Howie blinking slowly. Shaking his head. Clarence the same. Ears ringing. Senses overwhelmed. Howie glances, then snaps his head up with sudden focus at Dave cradling Nick’s bloodied head. ‘Nick!’ Howie yells, scrabbling on all fours over smouldering bricks and past flaming chunks of wood. Armageddon all around them. Clarence crying out and rushing over. Cookey. Blowers. Danny. Mo. Bibi. Johnny. All of them crashing and tripping over to Nick being held and protected by Dave. ‘Nick!’ Howie yells, going in to see Nick’s head limp and unresponsive. ‘NICK’S DOWN!’ Howie yells into the radio as Marcy, Tappy, and Anika all driving their vehicles speed up and fly around the corner with tyres squealing.

‘Check vitals,’ Clarence says, pressing his fingers into Nick’s neck.

‘Is he breathing?’ Blowers asks.

‘I don’t know!’ Howie says, his head still spinning from it all, and he pushes his ear to Nick’s chest, trying to detect his beating heart or feel him breathing while Dave gently holds his head.

Engines. Lights. Doors. Voices shouting. ‘Let me see!’ Ann says, pushing through to push her stethoscope to Nick’s chest as Anika opens her bag to pull the defibrillator out. Meredith there. Licking Nick’s face. Tappy pushing in to hold him. Not daring to breathe. The lad not moving. Not waking up. Horror in all of them. Dread and fear.

‘He’s alive,’ Ann says. ‘I’ve got a heartbeat…’

‘Fuck,’ Blowers gasps as Tappy finally exhales and blinks.

‘Where you going?’ Blowers shouts as she rushes off.

‘Why isn’t he waking up?’ Cookey asks.

‘Nick!’ Charlie shouts, running over with Carmen. Frank and Maddox not far behind.

‘He’s taken a big hit,’ Ann says.

‘Is he...?’ Charlie asks.

‘He’s alive,’ Blowers says as Charlie gasps with relief.

‘He needs to rest,’ Ann says. ‘We’ll take him back.’

‘Nah, he’ll be fine,’ Tappy says, coming in close with a bag in her hand. She grabs a handful and splats it in Nick’s face. Covering him in white powder that turns pink from the blood.

‘What the hell is that?’ Ann asks.

‘Cocaine,’ Tappy says and holds the bag up. ‘We kept one. Just in case.’

‘In case of what?’ Ann asks in horror.

‘Ooh, cocaine,’ Charlie says as Nick’s eyes snap open, and he sits up with a sudden, sharp intake of air.

‘Hello, big boy!’ Tappy says with a grin.

‘Tappy! Give him the coke I put in the Saxon!’ Roy transmits.

‘I just did. He’s awake!’

‘Seen that?’ Clarence asks, nudging Howie as he nods up the High Street.

Howie’s eyes darken once more as he takes it in.

The road ahead like a scene from hell. Buildings collapsed and strewn across the street. Smouldering furniture and rubble. Fires everywhere. Thick smoke, and the air shimmers from the intense heat.

But it’s not clogged.

Tilda killed thousands and took the whole fucking horde off their feet.

A chance to take.

An advantage to press.

He grabs a fistful of coke and inhales deeply. Taking it into his system. Remembering what it did to them last time, and his whole body floods with instant surging, raging energy.

‘TAKE THAT FUCKING STREET!’ he yells and scrabbles up to lurch on. Clarence taking a hit of the white powder, then going after him. The others doing the same.

Dave too, even though drugs are bad, but Mr Howie just took some, and Dave took cocaine before, and it was nice. So he does it now. As they all do while Ann and Anika stare on in stunned awe. A shrug, and they do the same. Snorting coke and running back to the ambulance. Tappy in the Saxon. Marcy in the bus. Their lips and noses covered in coke. Their eyes wild. Energy inside thrumming.

Energy coursing through them all.

Pure energy from the drugs that mingles and merges, and mixes with Howie’s dark fury that pulses into them.

‘ATTACK NOW!’ Howie yells into the radio. ‘WE CAN REACH THEM!’

Reginald in the command vehicle, feeling it too. Seeing Howie and his team running along the High Street towards the junction at the top.

‘HOWIE IS COMING IN! KRAKOV! LILLY! DRIVE IN! DRIVE IN!’ Reginald yells as Paula feels the rush of energy coming from Howie. Henry too. On their feet and looking ahead to the junction. Lilly turning to look. Her face hardening as that cold, seething fury erupts inside.

Jess back at the FCP in her horse box. The whole thing crashing side to side as she rages within. Kicking the back doors until they buckle and bend. Gavin stares at it. The silent young man that never speaks. Not a word spoken since he was a child, but he knows he has to let her free. An instinct inside. He kicks the bolt. The ramp drops, and the war horse thunders out. Red eyes rolling with nothing but spite and vicious anger as she rears with a great noise that makes the other teenage soldiers drop back in fear.

Gavin doesn’t drop back. He feels the thrum inside and is running without conscious thought. Running to grab the heavy mallet Charlie brought with her, and he’s up and into the saddle on top of Jess, moving like the wind. Driven by the pulse inside to take the ground and hold it.

The same pulse in all of them.

‘WITH ME!’ Paula yells and runs for it. Mary and Tilly, and the women from the camp running with her. The three remaining teenage soldiers in amongst them. Paula, Henry, and Kyle. All with weapons gripped and ready as they slam into the horde at the junction still getting up from the pressure wave.

‘UP, UP, UP!’ Krakov yells, grabbing at his team. ‘WE CHARGE! ON ME!’

He sets off with Popov and the others into the first plaza as Roy fires arrows to aid their route. One in the air. Two in the air. Three in the air. Elka back next to him. Firing her rifle.

‘We go over,’ she says, nodding to the big Crown Court building. A flat roof on the top. A good view of the plazas and Castle Avenue. They break away, with Krakov swinging his cudgel, desperate to make ground.

Howie in the High Street. Leading the charge through a drastically changed landscape. The new buildings blown apart from the explosion. Thin walls and thin bricks reduced to rubble.

But the old and ancient ones remain, just as Roy said they would. Thick walls. Thick beams. Built well. Built to last.

The Buttercross Monument still in place that Howie runs past. Getting over mounds of rubble and running through the intense heat as the smoke billows around them all. Their faces wild with energy and fury to charge and charge. To take this ground. Infected all around them. Bodies on fire. Some still alive. More running in from the side streets that have been willed to reach The Great Hall by Elaine, and so they run alongside of Howie and his team.

The two opposing sides all racing for the same objective. More infected pour in to join them. More and more, and many more.

‘Take Castle Avenue!’ Reginald yells into the radio and into all of their ears as Lilly fights through the junction. The ground littered with bodies of downed infected. Most of them rising back up. More pouring in from the train station and side streets. But Lilly leads the charge. Driving deep to take ground before their enemy can rally and muster.

But rally and muster they do, and they surge in to block Castle Avenue and hold that now coveted ground.

The Great Hall at the end. The prize within. A blind boy that must be killed by one side. A sightless child that must be saved by the other.

Krakov fights across the lower plaza. The infected all around him surging in the same direction. He slams the cudgel one handed. His bleeding stump pressed to his chest. Energy inside. The need to win. Popov at his side. Only a few of their team remaining, but they run for the prize.

All of them compelled to take that ground.

And inside The Great Hall, they fire weapons and ascend the tower. Olivia still at the base with Kev. The others up and climbing.

Howie reaches the junction with Jewry Street. Running through it with a double take at Bash and Jonesy coming out of an eatery, pulling their trousers up. The two of them bathed in sweat and ruddy faced. But there’s no time to think and no time for thought, and they join the charge.

Pressing the attack towards Castle Avenue.

A great press of motion comes to life. A sight to see from the drones, with every single human form, the teams and the infected alike, all running and fighting each other while aiming for the same location.

Krakov getting across the middle plaza.

Lilly reaching the middle of the junction. The densest part by far.

Howie into the final stretch. Cleaving infected down as he runs. Dave lashing out with his knife.

Because what they all did might have been enough.

And so they run.

They run with everything they have.

With every ounce of energy and strength.

Lilly can see the entrance to Castle Avenue, but the charge becomes grounded as the infected, with their greater numbers, surge in to block them off. She snarls in fury at not winning and fights harder. Mary behind her. Tilly close. Paula and Henry, and Kyle, and the others from the camp. All of them hacking at infected with knives and blades, but the compression becomes too great. The charge stopped in its tracks.

Krakov sees the base of the steps leading to Castle Avenue. That final flight the only thing between him and taking the ground they need. He charges with a roar, but the steps become flooded with infected slamming into his few good people, and his charge slows and grinds to a stop. Pure frustration inside. He fights like a demon, flinging them aside but to no avail because more come. More and more, and many more.

Because it wasn’t enough.

Lilly feels it too. Furious that she can’t reach it. She lashes out with a detonation of pure rage and starts making progress, but a hand grips her from behind. A voice yelling at her to stop. Paula telling her to stop. Fuck Paula. Fuck being told what to do by anyone. ‘I said fucking wait!’ Paula screams, wrenching Lilly back, who snarls with anger, but Paula isn’t looking at her. She’s looking to the side because she can feel it coming.

The incoming wall of energy slamming through the infected as Lilly becomes aware of a sudden and great press pushing the opposing side away. Gaps form. A trench of ground opening up as Howie leads the charge through them. Moving faster than a man has right to move. Killing them with a blur of pure energy and motion. Each swing of the axe taking several down. Dave slicing into necks. Clarence’s metal fist breaking skulls. Blowers driving hard punches to kill them dead. Cookey slaughtering them. Back to the man he was when he killed the clowns. Dark. Wild. Seething. Nick the same. His face a mask of blood. The four younger lads right behind them. Danny. Mo. Johnny. Bibi.

The dog up front with Howie. Her mind in all of theirs. Willing them to fight.

Pack fight. Pack move. Don’t think. Just be.

‘NOW!’ Paula yells and pushes Lilly forward, driving her hard into the rank of infected to join Howie going into them.

Lilly’s energy rising by the second until she detonates the same as Howie, sending her own will into her people that surge with her. Ramped and furious, and the war becomes waged right.

Two lines forming. Two sides.

But still, it’s not enough.

And still they become grounded. Howie’s presence holding them at bay, but even he can’t take ground. Not against so many.

‘HOLD!’ Roy shouts in all of their ears. ‘Hold, Howie… Hold! Hold that line!’

Howie snarls out as the infected surge into them. Driving his legs to brace against them. Clarence and the lads all doing the same. Lilly and her team. Every one of them pushing into the other side.

‘Hold!’ Roy says. ‘Hold that line… Do not yield! Dig in!’

He views them from above. From the roof of the Crown Court building. The thin line of Howie’s team facing towards The Great Hall. Being held back by deep ranks of the infected pushing them away while yet more infected lay siege to the doors of the hall.

Krakov on the steps. The same thing happening. His team forming a line but getting pushed back down the steps. Unable to hold them but trying with everything they have.

A flash of a memory in Howie’s mind. Day Eighteen. They pushed the infected then. That same battle when the young girl screamed for her mummy as the infected tortured her. They couldn’t reach her.

Another child inside this place. Another child the same as them. A feeling inside that the little girl might have been a red too. That’s why they felt it. But it can’t happen again. It won’t happen again.

Not now.

Not ever.

A loud bang ahead. The doors giving way to The Great Hall. A great voice yelling for them all to hear. The voice of Olivia screaming the warning. ‘BREACH! BREACH!’

Roy sees it happen. The doors collapsing. The infected screeching with victory. Howie unable to move forward. Krakov held in place.

The boy climbs out onto the roof of The Great Hall, then the others. Debora. Jevram. Bev. They run to the edge and start putting rounds in below. Livvy and Kev still fighting them hand-to-hand.

‘GET UP!’ Mike shouts, halfway up the tower. Sophie goes up and through. He follows and yells for Livvy and Kev.

A glance between them.

A promise made.

A nod shared. They run for the tower, with Mike thinking they’ll come up. But they grip the lowest bar and heave, and Mike yells as they tip the tower over.

‘Ye fucks!’ he screams as Livvy and Kev grab their shields and maces and turn to face the infected pouring through the doors. Slamming them down. Breaking skulls and buying time.

But it’s not enough.

Nothing they do will be enough.

And Roy grins because he can see what’s coming. ‘HOWIE! SCATTER! KRAKOV! DROP BACK!’

Orders given.

Orders heard.

A great noise from behind as Howie turns to see it first. The others glancing. Grinning. Releasing their hold and falling to the left and right as the Royal Mail van leads the charge. Sergei at the wheel. Reginald next to him, slamming his battle swatter on the dashboard. ‘INTO THEM, SERGEI!’

The front bull bars fitted by Tappy hit first. The new rugged, run-flat tyres gripping and driving the plucky van deep into the mass as Howie and his team give voice. Yelling in victory. Another horn blaring out. Blue lights flashing. The ambulance riding the wake. Anika at the wheel. Following the van in. The Beast behind it. The guns inside falling silent for fear of hitting their own.

On the steps, Krakov holds his cudgel over his head, shouting out as Tappy drives the Saxon past him. Crushing a path through the infected.

The four vehicles all converging.

Mike on the top of The Great Hall feeling the surge of hope inside. Bev and the others seeing the sight of an old army Saxon and a Royal Mail van, and an ambulance, and an armoured school bus coming to their aid.

‘TAKE THE GROUND!’ Howie shouts, running in behind the vehicles. Another incoming rush within his mind. A sudden sense of power and strength, and energy coming close. Coming from behind.

A glance back. He yells to get clear as Gavin rides Jess into the lines. Swinging the mallet down onto skulls. Up high in the saddle. Jess doing what’s she’s done many times before. Kicking and moving, and trampling them down. Using her bulk and strength to force a hole for Howie to exploit, and he runs behind her with the others to take the ground in front of The Great Hall.

Reginald out of the van. Seeing the infected still pouring into the hall from the broken down front and back doors. Only two fighters inside becoming overwhelmed.

‘We need people in here!’ Reginald yells, waving his swatter at the broken doors. ‘Quickly now!’

Livvy takes another down. Then another and another. Kev a few feet away. Wielding his mace and trying to fend them off with his shield. Driven back too hard and he trips over Craig’s body, going down with a yell as infected dive onto him.

‘MAN DOWN!’ Reginald shouts. Tappy drops from the Saxon. Marcy from the bus. Ann and Anika from their vehicle. All of them running in while the others fight out.

Tappy goes in hard. Her machete swinging to cleave them down. Marcy the same. Ann and Anika firing pistols as they get inside to see Olivia standing over Kev, beating the attackers away as more surge at her. Pouring through the breached rear door.

‘We need that door blocked!’ Marcy shouts as Reginald runs back outside.

‘Lilly! Quickly! JESS!’

Gavin twists in the saddle. Seeing Reginald waving frantically in The Great Hall to the back doors and the infected coming through. A twitch of the reins. Jess sees it too. Turning to run and charge.

‘Lilly! Hold that door!’ Reginald shouts.

Mary and Tilly with Lilly. Those three whipping in past Reginald and behind Marcy and Tappy to slam into the infected coming through the door. Beating them back as Mary grabs a mace and swings it down into a skull. Tilly takes a sword and thrusts, and hacks while Lilly pulls a machete with a new blade and takes heads from necks, and the blood flows thick and red across the old and ancient floor.

‘Help him!’ Livvy shouts, seeing two women with medical bags. She sweeps out to beat the infected away from Kev as Ann and Anika drop to his sides. Grabbing an arm and shoulder each to drag the unconscious man outside to heave him into the ambulance.

A scream from inside The Beast. Sasha grabbing a red-hot barrel of a machine gun with her bare hands, melting the skin away that blisters and instantly pours with blood.

‘Go!’ Ann shouts as Anika runs and gets inside to the girl, pulling her out to the ambulance. Pouring water over the burn as the girl grits her teeth from the searing agony.

‘Hold it in the rain!’

Ann in the ambulance doing compressions on Kev. ‘No vitals,’ Ann says as Anika rushes back to prepare the defibrillator.

Lilly running past them to the line. ‘Clarence!’ she yells, getting his attention. ‘Need you!’

‘Go,’ Howie says as Clarence breaks free and runs into the hall behind the horse and the others fighting the infected pouring through the back doors. ‘That!’ Lilly says to Clarence, pointing at the old and ancient, huge, round table fixed to the wall. Clarence frowns. Not getting it until she points to the back doors.

‘You’ll run this world one day, Lilly,’ he mutters and runs to grab and heave it free. ‘Get me some help!’

‘You!’ Lilly shouts at Livvy, running to drag her to help Clarence. Livvy ditches her weapons and rushes to add her strength, but even they can’t pry it free.

‘Get Krakov!’ Clarence grunts as Lilly runs outside to grab him and pull him inside.

‘Help them!’

‘Da,’ the big man grunts and runs to aid. His stump still bleeding. But he grabs at the table with his good hand as they heave with everything they have. Tearing the immense thing from the brackets, and it drops to the ground with a huge bang. The outer rim protected by a thick metal band. They shout as they hold the table upright and wheel it across the hall. Hundreds of years old. A table that weighs over a ton. They slam into the wall and push it across the back doors, then grab spears to brace it in place.

‘Back outside!’ Reginald shouts, waving them out. Livvy runs with them. No time for thinking. No time for thought. No time to ask who they are or anything else as she grabs her shield and mace and runs besides Clarence and Krakov back into the fray. Surging outside to join the line of warriors in this old and ancient place. Those warriors giving fight to the terrible plague being visited upon this city.

A plague driven by Elaine Sotheby who wills her hosts to reach that child. Kill the child. Kill it!

The howl goes up as the infected that couldn’t fit into the High Street and Castle Avenue now pour in from every side street and alley, and from the train station. More and more, and many more.

‘We need that CP!’ Henry calls. ‘FIND THE CP!’ he yells to Carmen.

She nods once. Hearing it and breaking free from the line. Pulling Charlie with her. A shout to Frank, then another to Kyle. ‘We’ll do this side!’ Carmen yells, motioning to the side building adjoining The Great Hall. ‘Frank, take Kyle. Do that building. The CP is in one of them.’

‘I’ll take the nips,’ Frank says, nodding at Maddox fighting in the line.

‘Negative. We need him here, Frank. He’s better at this than Kyle, and Kyle is better at room clearance. Just fucking do it, Frank! Swallow your ego. Charlie, with me.’

She sets off, and Frank spits to the side. Hating the idea as Kyle takes a tac-vest and C8 rifle from the Royal Mail van and makes ready. ‘Let’s be professional, Frank.’

‘Talk to me about professional, you fucking cunt. After this. Me and you.’

‘Ye sounding bitter,’ Kyle says and sets off. They aim for the only door accessible from this side of the infected line all driving forwards. A solid, wooden security door. Modern locks, and too hard to kick it in. C4 charges on the hinges. They duck to the side and blow the door with a glare at each other.

‘Go on then, hero,’ Frank says. ‘You go first and give ’em some guns.’

Kyle tuts and sweeps inside. Infected present instantly. Kyle double-taps to the chest, then one to the head, with an instant transition back to the operative he once was. The endless drilling in close quarters combat. Often with Frank. The two of them doing this same thing in war zones all over the world. Working through rooms at a crouched pace. Rifles up, and the years fall away. The intuition they had for each other returns, and they reach the first door, with Kyle covering, and Frank going in. Kyle sweeping in behind. Aiming from midday to six. Frank from six to midnight. Shots fired. Infected seen. Calm. Controlled. Into more offices. Infected at every turn and in every room. Contacts every few seconds.

The same on the other side as Carmen and Charlie breach the door and sweep inside. Rifles up and firing instantly at the contacts. Pressing ahead. Charlie’s intelligence, her skills, and her absurd level of fitness showing true. Her eyes seeking targets. Looking for threat and risk. Firing calmly. Dropping infected. Searching. Hunting. Working deeper.

And outside, the line is slowly driven back from the infected driving at them.

‘Get the fifty-cal on them!’ Howie shouts.

‘It’s empty!’ Tappy shouts.

‘PKMs then!’

‘They’re out,’ she shouts, motioning the Royal Mail van. ‘We’ve used everything!’

‘Fuck!’ Howie shouts as one of the guns falls silent in The Beast. The ammunition expended.

Joey looks for more, then glances at Filipe firing his machine gun at the next slit. ‘Dude! Too much.’

‘Filipe!’ Ali shouts. ‘Burst fire! You’ll cook it off!’ But the lad keeps the trigger pulled. Firing on automatic. Seeing infected with red eyes coming at them through the dark night and the freezing rain. Fear inside that morphs into panic and robs his training away.

‘FILIPE!’ Tamara shouts, running at him as the general-purpose machine gun heats too much, jamming rounds that ignite in the chamber with an explosion that tears through the lad. Hitting Joey. Tam diving away off her feet. Ali cut and staggering back to the door. ‘MEDICS!’

Ann and Anika still working on Kev. No signs of life. The defib unit doing its job but getting nothing back. They break away. Knowing they must give aid to those that might live. The two of them running onto the bus. Filipe clearly dead, with half his head taken off. Joey with open gaping wounds. Tam bleeding.

The line outside pushing harder now the guns have stopped. More and more, and many more infected surging into Castle Avenue.

Frank and Kyle sweeping from room to room. Contacts at every turn. Kyle fires and drops to a knee to change mag.

Charlie and Carmen the same. Infected in every room. In every corridor. Changing mags and sweeping in to gun them down.

The line outside pushing back. Howie and everyone else driving into it. Ann bandaging Joey. Tam getting to her feet. ‘I’m okay!’ she snaps and staggers outside with Ali. The two of them hurt and bleeding, but seeing the line being driven back. A yell, and they draw knives and run into the fray.

Mike and Bev on the roof firing into the hordes. Their ammunition dwindling rapidly.

Roy firing his last batch of arrows.

Elka on her last magazine.

And once again, it’s not enough.

Kyle grunts, sweeping into a large, open-plan office packed with infected.

‘Mag!’ Charlie says, swapping hers out as Carmen puts rounds into the infected charging along the internal hall at them.

Elaine in a far room in one of the buildings. Her face a mask of pure rage, and she wills her hosts with everything she has. Pumping them full of harsh chemicals that take them beyond anything that was ever close to being human. Wild, rabid beasts that surge forward and break through one end of the line to reach the base wall of The Great Hall.

‘BREACH!’ Roy shouts, firing his final two arrows as Elka empties her last magazine. The bow and rifle dropped, and they leap over the edge of the Crown Court roof and drop onto the roof of The Great Hall and along to the others. No time for thinking. No time for thought. No time to ask questions. Assault rifles grabbed from the spares Bev brought up, and they fire over the edge. Killing the infected slamming into the wall.

‘They’re body piling,’ Roy says. ‘HOWIE!’ he roars, but in such chaos, there is no chance of being heard, and so he ditches the rifle and swings over the lip, and hangs from the edge.

‘You crazy!’ Elka gasps as Roy drops and lands on the infected. Sprawling out as Elka does the same and gets over to hang, then drops to land on the mass of bodies. Knife out and stabbing. Roy the same. Up and fending them off. Brutal. Vicious. Blood spraying, but more come. More and more, and many more.

Frank and Kyle back-to-back in the big office at the top of their building. Firing and firing, but more keep coming. Grenades go in. They throw C4. Windows blow out. Raining glass and rubble on the horde below.

The same on the other side. Charlie and Carmen fighting for their lives. Grenades. C4. Anything and everything they have.

The corridor too full, so they back into a side room, with Carmen throwing a charge back into the hallway.

‘Cover!’ Carmen shouts. They both duck and cover their heads as she detonates the C4. Flame and noise. Heat and debris. The outer wall blows out .

In Castle Avenue, the infected surge so hard they breach the line and fling at the base of the wall as the mound grows faster than the defenders can stop it.

Dozens of infected throwing themselves down every second. Roy dragging them out. Elka and Sophie. Doctor Patel and Bev. Danny spots it and runs to help. Ali and Tam. Sasha with her one good hand. Tappy and Marcy. But they cannot stem that flow, and for each person falling out of the line to help, so more get through. A scream from behind. One of the women from the camp slashed deep across the back from a knife held by her friend. A horrible accident, and she staggers out, bleeding heavily.

An instinct inside of Jev, and he grabs the girl and boots an infected away, then scoops her over his shoulder to run for the ambulance. Lowering her carefully and taking kit from the open medical bags alongside Ann and Anika working on the other hurt and injured.

‘I’m out!’ Kyle shouts in the block alongside the avenue, flinging his rifle aside to draw his pistol in one smooth motion. Two-handed grip, and he fires solid shots. Frank the same. His rifle empty. Dropped. Pistol out. Rounds in. The infected still coming at them.

Charlie and Carmen race into another room. Gunning infected down. Expending their ammunition. C4 on a wall. A blast of noise and flame, and they push on.

But it’s not enough, and Howie glances back with a cry of horror at the mound already up and past the windows. Thick and wide. Clarence and Krakov run to help. Popov and Livvy. Strong people that fling bodies aside with ease, but even they cannot do it fast enough, and from the tight space, they can’t get the Saxon into it.

Hope starts to fade, and the realisation hits that it isn’t enough.

That nothing they do will be enough.

Mike on the top. Seeing the mound grow. Holding his pistol, and his face shows the realisation they all feel.

That this is it.

They can’t win.

Reginald below. Gripping his swatter. His face a mask of intense focus. His eyes flicking to the two side buildings.

Frank and Kyle pinned down in one.

Charlie and Carmen in the other.

Reginald can see their muzzle flashes. They’re at the top. Working towards this closest end. He glances back to Frank and Kyle, realising they too are now at the top, which means they have cleared their building.

Which means the CP is in the building with Charlie and Carmen.

He goes to transmit as Carmen blows her last block of C4, and they sweep into the room with rifles up. The two women both flinching at the sheer amount of infected within.

Another door at the end.

A group of infected running away through it. The CP.

The blink of an eye. The beat of a heart. They press the attack and get swarmed instantly by fit, fresh, strong infected. Bouncers and bruisers. Big muscle men and women that take shots to the body without reaction and rip the two women off their feet.

Rifles dropped, with Carmen flipping one over a hip, and she draws her pistol to shoot it through the head, but another slams into her from behind. Then another and another, and she gets thrown across the room. Hitting a hard wall as Charlie stabs one down, then goes for another, but they move too fast, and she gets ripped off her feet and slammed down onto a table. Carmen shouts and runs to her aid, but gets taken from the side. Going down under a heap of bodies.

Howie outside. His back to the line. His feet braced. Trying to hold it back as he gets pushed across the ground. The mound ahead of him. Growing by the second. Almost at the top edge. Mike and Debora leaning over to fire pistol rounds. But it’s not enough, and the mound reaches the top.

A burst of static on the radios. A frenzied yell. ‘CP! CP!’ Charlie’s voice. Howls and screeches nearly drowning her out. The sounds of violence and chaos.

Carmen next. Her voice blasting out to drive fear into them all. ‘Charlie down! I’m down!’

The mound at the top of the wall.

Elaine in the last room. Sensing victory.

Her hosts surge again.

Racing for the mound.

Charlie down.

Carmen down.

Reginald running.

Paula running.

Henry running.

Cookey running.

All of them running for the building. To get inside. To find Charlie and Carmen. To find the CP.

Howie snarls, and he runs too.

Lilly the same.

The same idea in both of them in the same instant, and those two break free from the line to charge at the mound, and they leap side by side, landing upon it. Kicking and hacking at the hands trying to grab them. Fury inside. Pure, seething violence that Howie only felt once before when he thought Dave was dead, and that violence steals through his heart, turning his dark eyes red. Filling them with blood. The same as the infected.

That same feeling inside Lilly.

That same rage. That same violence. Her own eyes turning red and bloodshot, and the sightless child stands upon the roof without a flicker of fear showing. Not even when the infected pour over the lip and get beaten down by Mike and Debora.

And in the room. While pinned to a table. Charlie’s eyes turn red and angry, and she remembers being pinned to a table before. But someone taught her how to break free of that, and she bunches power as the infected around her get willed to rip her apart.

Reginald races up the stairs. Leading the charge. Paula, Henry, Clarence, and Cookey with them.

Their eyes red.

Red the same as Blowers fighting furiously to batter them down. Not seeing an infected charge in from his blind side. Cookey not there to protect it. A shout. A yell. Tilly grabs his hand to pull him away and slashes out with her machete. Taking the infected down as Blowers pivots and drops another aiming at Tilly’s side. The two of them pressing back to back. Fighting out and with everything they have. Tilly’s eyes as red as Blowers’.

Red the same as Nick and Tappy.

Red the same as Danny. Mo. Bibi. Johnny. Ali. Tam.

Red the same as Marcy and Roy.

Red eyes, and bodies filled with pure energy.

Howie and Lilly side by side. Climbing the mound. Snarling. Growling. Pure fury within. Pure rage. Dave behind Howie. Always behind Howie. Mary behind Lilly. Always behind Lilly. And they rise, and they fight to reach the top.

Meredith streaks away from the line and leaps high to land and climb the mound. Going up past Howie and Lilly. Flowing like water. Taking the top. Lunging to take one down running at the child. Ragging it hard enough to fling from the roof as it flies down past Howie and Lilly. An instinct willed within them all.

Little one.

Pack fight.

And Charlie grunts as she draws her legs in like Carmen showed her, and she grins with a face full of violence and evil.

‘Now, Charlie!’ Carmen shouts, pinned to the ground, with teeth biting into her body.

Charlie explodes out. Using the strength in her legs to send the infected across the room. She bucks left and right and frees a hand to grab hair and pull the head down to bite into the neck. Tearing it open and pushing it away.

Howie screaming out as he reaches for the top of the mound. Clawed hands grab his arms and neck and rake his flesh. Lilly at his side, kicking his attacker away. The two of them pushing and grabbing to help each other in a filthy brawl to the top. Climbing over to rise up with wild, red eyes as Charlie bucks so hard she throws a fully grown man over the table. Then she’s free and vaulting off the table to land on her feet.

Blood pouring from her mouth. But not her blood. Theirs, and her eyes become deep red as that thing inside detonates. The thing Cookey had in Rye. That speed. That aggression. That need to kill.

A big male impacts from the side. She flips it onto the table breaking it apart and drives down upon the beast. Slamming hard knuckles into the eyes. Breaking the bones and driving them into the brain. A leg to her side. She grips the ankle and drives her shoulder into another heavy male, taking him off his feet to launch through the window. Smashing the glass and breaking the cheap, wooden frame.

A yell behind. Carmen pinned. Unable to break free. Too many on her. Biting and raking. Hurting her.

Motion at the door. Reginald the first inside. A great yell, and he charges at the attackers on Carmen. Beating into a face with his battle swatter. Gripping a fistful of hair to wrench it away. ‘Get off my friend!’

Charlie slams into two more. Sweeping them away.

Cookey through the door, ripping an infected off his feet to launch through the window.

‘CP in there!’ Charlie shouts to Paula, Henry, and Clarence rushing into the room as Charlie grabs the one held by Reginald and wraps her arms about the head, and twists violently. Breaking the neck. Up again. Kicking. Hacking. Beating them down with Cookey at her side. The two of them together. Sending Elaine’s best and strongest out through the window.

Paula in the back room; her knife into a neck. Henry taking another down. Clarence decimating all within reach. Bones snap. Bodies break.

Frank and Kyle killing every infected in their room with skills that made them the two very best agents for a very long time. They turn while back-to-back. Seeking more targets. Seeing they’re all dead, and as one, they step away and bring their pistols to aim on the other.

Murder in their eyes.

The intent clear.

A second in which both snarl and start to squeeze triggers until Kyle grunts and lowers his.

‘Why?’ Frank shouts. ‘Why did you fucking help them?’

‘Because I’ve got a conscience, Frank! The world was unbalanced.’

‘Hippy fucking shit,’ Frank hisses, bracing to fire.

‘This world doesn’t belong to men like Henry and George, Frank! Or people like Alistair fecking Appleton. There has to be balance. You like killing, Frank. You’re good at it, and you hate losing, and it’s not that I stood against you; it’s because you fecking lost! But there was nothing to lose! I did what was right, so if you want to end me, then do it… DO IT!’

Tension in Frank. His finger squeezing at the trigger, and for a second, he thinks to do it, and it shows in his eyes.

And yet.

And yet.

‘Feck the old world,’ Kyle mutters and sweeps by as the boy takes Howie’s and Lilly’s hands, and his blind, sightless eyes fill with blood, and his energy pours into Howie and Lilly. Giving them his vision. Giving them the view through Thor’s eyes as the bird flaps his wings above the child, and they see it all. The whole of the war in front of them.

The shining, white orbs of their side fighting back against the ugly, smeared yellows and browns of the infected. The evil of them showing clear against the goodness of those few. Each one of them shining like a bright candle standing against the storm.

And through the windows broken and smashed, they see Charlie and Cookey glowing white as they kill the beasts around them.

The next window along. The final one. It breaks apart from half a dozen figures sent flying out from Clarence sweeping them with his arms out wide. A giant, white, glowing figure ridding more of the evil that fall to die. And behind them, Paula stalks at the filthiest of them all.

The orb of her being. Shining, glowing white so stark against the monster in demon form she moves towards. The energy of the thing smeared and corrupt. Wild. Unrefined. Juvenile. Still young. Still growing.

‘I am the one true race,’ it shouts in arrogant defiance through the petulant voice of Elaine Sotheby.

‘Yeah. They all say that’ Paula mutters as she drives her blade into the gut. Sawing it open. Reaching in to pull the innards out. Because as Carmen said, Paula is a killer.

Howie and Lilly turn to face forward to see Mike and Debora staring in awe at the infected held at bay. Not coming forward. Snarling but too scared to move. Meredith in front of the child. Head low. Teeth bared. Giving voice. Giving warning.

Reginald sees it through the broken window while protecting Carmen. Clarence, Henry, and Paula see it. Kyle and Frank see it. The infected not charging. The infected held back, and the boy snarls. He snarls like the dog with a noise he should never be able to make.

Howie’s and Lilly’s hands held in his. The two of them feeling his energy surging from him like a tidal wave of fizzing silver and golden power, and as they drive forward, so it grows, and that energy hits into the ugly, smeared, corrupt, and foul beasts, taking them from their feet to go back, back, and back, to fly from the edge and out into the air.

Sent tumbling and falling.

All of them spinning head over feet to slam into the hard ground below.

And that wave keeps going and pushes the mound from the wall.

Making it tumble and crumble, and they all fall down.

Making those below cry out as they feel the energy sweep through them. A pulse of warmth. Fizzing. Alive. They feel it inside. Like an electric current in their guts and bones, and hearts. And each white light glows brighter for it as it surges out like a pressure wave of a bomb. Lifting every infected from its feet. Sending them back and back, and back again, and the sky turns red from an explosion at the train station. A great mushroom cloud of flame rolling out and up. Making the ground tremble and shake. Fire balls one after the other. The sky seemingly on fire. Bathing them all in light.

They all see it. Charlie and Cookey. Carmen on the floor, still protected by Reginald.

Paula and Henry at the window as Clarence throws the body of the monster to the ground below.

Frank and Kyle on the other side.

They all see it happen.

Reginald too. Seeing the infected knocked down by the child and in that second he glances out to the main road and the big junction, expecting to see more pouring in to attack them from the train station and beyond.

And yet.

And yet.

‘And yet,’ he says into the silence. Remembering Gatwick when his van was attacked, and he opened the door after to see them all dead.

The same then. The same now.

A guardian angel somewhere out there in that now-silent city.

Silent save for the after-effects of the war raged upon it. The fires burning in many places and the sounds of buildings tumbling down.

The new ones.

Not the old.

Not the ancient.

But here. Here in this old and ancient place, that silence holds true. Sudden and profound as the fighters below. Those few that held the line. The glowing, white orbs seen by Howie and Lilly, and the blind child all gasp and stagger, and turn to look up at the rooftop of The Great Hall.

To three figures standing atop it, and a dog before them.

A golden glow around them. Forming them into silhouettes.

A trick of the light, surely.

A mirage created by the fires and flames.

But they see it nonetheless.

And then it’s gone, and they are but three people standing in a line.

A woman with blond hair and eyes as cold as ice.

A young child. Blind. Frail.

And a man with wild, dark hair and wild, dark, red eyes full of fury and violence that grow softer as the rage ebbs away.

They all see it.

That mirage upon the roof until it is a mirage no more, and yet none speak or give voice, and Thor lands softly on Samir’s shoulder, and the boy draws his hands from Howie’s and Lilly’s and reaches up to stroke the bird’s head.

‘He said,’ Bev’s voice, broken and hoarse. Every head turns to her. All of them from all sides as she swallows and tries again. Her clothing torn. Her skin bleeding. Her face blackened from gore and war. ‘He said if we leave here, everything dies…’

A thing said that makes Reginald frown within the room in the building alongside, still at Carmen’s side, ready to protect her. And he frowns because of the astonishing simplicity of Bev’s words. Because if Elaine had left this city, a CP as strong as her, they might not all be here now.

Which suggests they’ve kept Elaine here on purpose.

A new angle to consider. Another change in the game.

But he doesn’t speak because of the noise to the side.

The low growl made by Charlie as she turns to look at Cookey. Her eyes still red. Her blood still pounding through her ears. An intent within her laid bare. An urging need that will be fulfilled, and she walks at him. Her mouth still red from the blood of her enemies. Her body into his. Pushing Cookey against a wall. Her mouth on his. Her energy pouring into him. His pouring into hers. Returning the kiss. Relishing it. Needing it. Red eyes and red hearts. Gasping and pushing as he comes forward to lift her body. Her legs wrapping around his waist as he turns to brace her against the wall. Kissing. Moving. Gasping.

‘I love you,’ his voice. Hard and fast.

‘I love you,’ hers at the same time. The passion growing.

Paula, Henry, and Clarence in the doorway. Reginald and Carmen still on the floor.

Everyone outside looking up at the grunts. Seeing Charlie and Cookey against the wall.

‘Don’t worry, Mads. Cookey still loves you,’ Nick quips, making Tappy snort as the others do the same. Henry too. And Paula and Clarence.

‘Right. Well. Getting awkward now,’ Paula says, walking out past them. ‘Well done, everyone! Good work.’

They go out, leaving Carmen still on her back. Wounds to her legs and arms, but she doesn’t feel them. She feels only Reginald’s body on hers. Protecting her still. He did that. He came in first without a weapon and without any clue how to fight, and he turns to look at her. His soft eyes finding hers as she realises the moment has finally come, and she closes her eyes and lifts her head with, her mouth going towards his.

‘This is no time for japery, Carmen,’ he says with a tut and lifts off as she tenses and drops her head with a thud while Cookey and Charlie go at it only a few feet away.

‘Yep!’ Carmen says, getting to her feet with a decidedly clipped voice. ‘Great work, everyone! Really fucking great.’

She storms out, making Reginald wonder if perhaps she hurt herself, and he follows behind, leaving Cookey and Charlie in their own special world made of their own special rules.

‘Good on them,’ Kyle says in the building opposite.

‘I’ve only got one thing to say to that,’ Frank says.

‘If you say Mogadishu, I will fecking shoot you,’ Kyle says.

‘Not that. This,’ Frank says and does nothing, and says nothing.

‘What?’ Kyle asks as the smell hits him. ‘Frank! Jesus! What did you eat?’ he says with a gag and rushes off and down the stairs to the world outside.

Paula, Henry, and Clarence coming out from the other side.

‘They need finishing!’ Paula calls.

They all start moving to find guns and what few magazines they have.

‘Wait,’ Tilly says, her voice low and broken. Her face spattered with blood and filth. She takes a bottle of water from one of the vehicles and gently lifts Blowers’ hands to pour the water over his knuckles. His hands bruised. His skin cut and torn from reverting to his brutal punches in the fight. Now she stands, as filthy and soaked as everyone else, and cleans his hands as he towers over her. ‘Better,’ she says quietly. He doesn’t speak but takes the bottle, and lifts to her head. A nod for her to close her eyes, and he pours it over her forehead and gently wipes the blood from her skin.

They find guns and rounds and join the others. Working side by side to do a terrible thing. An awful thing. Shooting silent, inert people through the head. The young and old alike.

But then they aren’t people, and they would kill them as soon as anything if they had another CP, and because the gunfire echoes and rolls around the buildings, they don’t hear the gunshots coming from somewhere else.

Nor did they hear it in The Great Hall, where Krakov, Livvy, Popov, Mads, and Nick heft the scaffolding tower upright for those on the roof to climb down.

Lilly and Mary the first down as the executions come to a finish outside. The plazas growing silent, save for scuffs of feet and low words. Save for the crackle of fires burning all around them. Save for the crash of rafters caving in and walls crumbling down as the fires spread.

Puffs of mist coming from their mouths. The air cold and growing colder by the second.

The factions form without intent or conscious thought as Lilly and Mary head over to the girls from the camp, sharing pained expressions at seeing who they lost. Tilly joins them. Kyle too. Choosing his team openly.

Krakov off to the side with Popov, Elka, Sergei, and the few left of their team. Krakov’s hand lost. His stump pressed against his chest. All of them bloodied and hurt. All cut and torn. But still standing and still with bloodied, pink bands around their arms.

Teams within teams, but then, as Howie always said, people are tribal by nature.

It’s no different for him, standing with the biggest team within the hall, gathering together into their tribe. Their army. Nothing said. Nothing needs to be said. Blowers reaches into the side pocket on his combat trousers and pulls his pink beret out. The beret he tucked away when it went south and got messy. He flaps it out and pulls it on. The others do the same. Broken. Battered. Bleeding. But still upright and standing proud in their pink berets.

Henry with Howie’s team but not quite. A small gap between them. Maddox and Frank with Henry. But they all notice Bash and Jonesy stay on Henry’s side while Carmen, despite looking very pissed off, stays with Reginald, firmly in Howie’s team.

Mike and Debora climb down the scaffolding as Jess clip-clops in with silent Gavin on her back. Every head turning to watch the horse stop, seemingly of her own accord, alongside the tower and wait as Samir climbs deftly down the poles and planks and swings out, making everyone else jolt forward, thinking him to be falling, but he lands neatly on Jess’s back in front of Gavin. The bird flying down to land in front of him.

Livvy moves closer to the horse. Flanking the side. Sophie the same. Mike. Bev. Debora. Jevram. They cluster around the child on the horse. Ready to protect him no matter what.

Silence again, and the child smiles almost shyly around at them all. Seeing colours and hues not visible to the naked eye.

But then Danny can do that too, and he stares on in fascinated awe at the auras in the room. The glows coming from each team and the auras within from the individuals all flowing into one another.

‘Did we miss anything?’ Charlie gasps, running in with Cookey.

‘Only Mads getting jealous,’ Nick quips.

‘Dude, enough,’ Maddox groans.

‘Never enough!’ Nick says with a laugh as Danny sees the spikes in energies and how they flow and spark.

‘Honestly, though,’ Sophie says as her team all groan and shake their heads. Knowing what’s coming as pretty Sophie smiles in that way she does. Full of life and energy, and love. ‘We’ve probably like literally killed them all now anyway.’

The way she speaks. The tone and inflection, and the mischief in her eyes bring smiles to all and a deep chuckle from Krakov.

‘Hey!’ he calls to Clarence and holds his stumped arm up. ‘Now we are brothers! Brothers from another mothers! Da?’ Krakov walks towards him with his arms out.

‘I don’t need a hug!’ Clarence warns.

‘Nyet!’ Krakov shouts and sweeps into the man. Bear hugging him off the ground, but Clarence lands and does the same in return, hefting the Russian of his feet with a great, toothy grin.

‘Will you look at the size of those sods,’ Mike says in his strong Scottish voice. ‘Are you their love child, Livvy?’

‘Er, excuse me,’ she says in a triggered voice. ‘My name is Olivia, thank you! But finally! Normal sized people!’ she calls as Clarence looks over and finally spots Scottish Mike grinning at him.

‘Three Para,’ Mike says in his hard accent, striding out to the big man, clasping hands, and pulling the other into a hug. Frank goes over. Kyle and Henry. Former Paras. Clasping hands and patting backs.

‘You held the line,’ Henry says.

‘Aye, Sir. All on my own, with no help from that lot,’ Mike says with a wink and a nod to his team.

‘Soooo,’ Howie says, shooting Paula a glance. ‘About that Original Lucozade?’

‘Oh, god, don’t,’ she says with a groan.

‘We have this,’ Debora says, remembering her son asking them to find some and bring it back just before they locked down. She rushes off to find it. Picking a big case up as the lads cheer and whistle, and surge in to surround her. The teams collapsing to merge and mingle, and pass bottles out. Tilly and her group. Krakov’s people. All of them taking bottles that open with pops of fizzy sizzles, and heads tilt back as they glug it down.

‘We need table, da!’ Krakov shouts and grabs at the mighty round table.

‘Be careful!’ Roy calls, rushing over. ‘That’s over eight hundred years old! Get some ammunition crates over to prop it on.’

A few minutes of hustle and bustle, with empty munitions crates brought in and stacked as they handle and grab the old and ancient table over. A slight lean to one side but stable enough.

They all take it in. Staring in awe at the size of the thing. Over five metres in diameter. Twelve green and twelve cream segments in a consecutive pattern like on a dartboard.

A white flower in the very centre surrounded by red petals. The names of the knights from the legend of King Arthur painted on the outer ring, and at the position of midday, at twelve o’clock, the painted image of King Arthur holding Excalibur.

But as grand as it is, it’s still a table, and Krakov comes back into the room, clutching a big bottle of vodka, and pulls one of the chairs over used in the hall by Bev and her team, clearly intending to sit down.

‘Wait,’ a small voice calls. The voice of a child. The only child in the room, and they all turn to see Samir sliding down from Jess’s back. The bird on his shoulder. Meredith goes to greet him; her tail wagging furiously as she licks his face. Earning giggles from Samir, who fusses her head for a moment.

Then he stops, and they all watch the bird looking at Howie as the blind boy walks over to him and takes his hand, and leads him to the table. To the first green segment next to King Arthur.

Samir goes to Paula next. Smiling up at her and taking her hand to lead her next to Howie. To the next green segment. She goes with him. Frowning at Howie, who shakes his head. Not quite grasping it.

Marcy after Paula. Taken to the third segment. Then Reginald to the fourth. Henry after him. Taken to the fifth.

Krakov next. The small child looking tiny as he stops in front of the big man and smiles, and takes his hand. He takes Elka’s too and leads them to the sixth and seventh segments, and the room watches on in near perfect silence.

The boy steps away, and such is the fixed gaze of the bird, they all look to Lilly as Samir steps to her. She stares down, and for once, even she offers a smile that lights her features up. Giving instant warmth to her coldness. He takes her hand. Then he takes Mary’s too and leads them both to the table. To the eighth and ninth green segments.

Samir turns, and with the biggest smile yet, he walks over to Bev. The leader of his own team, but he doesn’t take her hand. She bends to lift him instead. Giving him a hug that makes the tears roll from her closed eyes. Giving thanks that she held her faith in him when her mind was screaming at her to take them out of the city. Kev and Craig are dead. They’ve lost and suffered, but she can see the victory within it all. She lowers him down as Sophie and the others wipe their own tears away. All of them moving in close. Needing each other from what they went through. All of them smiling as Bev is taken by the hand. Weathered and worn. Battered and torn, but she takes her place at the table. Standing proudly as Samir walks to Jevram and leads the doctor over.

‘Are you sure?’ Jevram asks, thinking this to be a mistake.

‘Yes,’ Samir says, smiling with warmth and love as the others all look to Bev and Jevram at the tenth and eleventh green segments.

‘Well, you said you wanted a place at the table,’ Howie says with a nod to Krakov, who bursts out laughing with delight. ‘Did you mean this table?’

‘Nyet! But this table is good! Is big!’ Krakov says and unscrews the Vodka with his teeth, and spits the cap aside, and looks ready to take a drink, but he pauses and smiles, and leans over to the table to hold the bottle out to Howie.

‘For you, my very good friend.’

Howie takes the gesture in good faith. Swigging a mouthful of the burning, fiery liquid that makes him gasp. He wipes the mouth and passes it to Paula. She takes a hit and passes it on.

‘We’re infected. We can’t get sick,’ she says as Henry wipes the mouth before taking a swig.

‘Still gross, though,’ Henry says and takes his hit. Reginald next. Who gasps and coughs to the smiles of the others. Krakov takes a swig. Elka. Then to Lilly.

‘Drink driving, yeah?’ Howie asks as she lifts the bottle.

Lilly shrugs, not saying yes or no, and drinks a mouthful. Showing no reaction. Mary next, lifting it with a nod to the others. ‘To ye all,’ she says as the others wish they’d also said something cool like that.

Bev takes her hit, swallowing it with a gasp. ‘Don’t anyone give this to Mike,’ she says.

‘Ach. I could have a wee try,’ Mike says as Jevram takes his turn and drinks a mouthful.

‘I have questions,’ he says as he lowers the bottle.

‘Speak to him,’ Howie says, nodding at Reginald.

‘There’s one left,’ Lilly says. The first to voice it. Seeing one green segment left empty at the table.

‘Da. I think this,’ Elka says, wondering, as they all do, who will fill the last place as Reginald’s eyes narrow, and he thinks back to the final few moments. To the chaos of it all.

To the explosions detonating around them.

‘Who blew the fuel station, by the way?’ Paula asks, looking around at a sea of blank faces. ‘Tappy, was that you?’

Tappy shakes her head. About to say no as the boy steps to the head of the table. Twelve o’clock. The image of the king in front of him. ‘I am not the king,’ he says with a smile. His head cocked as he sees the image through Thor’s eyes. ‘It is just a place to stand while we wait.’

‘Wait?’ Howie asks.

‘For who?’ Reginald asks at the same time as Lilly.

‘For whom,’ Mary says, correcting them both.

‘Grammar Nazi,’ Lilly murmurs.

‘It will snow now,’ the boy says with such an abrupt change of subject it makes them all look to the open doors and the world outside. The rain no longer falling, and a second later, the first thick snowflake falls from the sky. Followed by another. And another. Then hundreds more. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Millions and more and more, and many more until the air is thick with large, fluffy flakes of snow.

Only then do they notice the cold and their breaths misting as they exhale.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Ali says softly, making Marcy give her a look. Tamara next to Ali. Both of them as hurt and bloodied as everyone else. It makes Marcy frown thoughtfully and walk outside to the Saxon. To the cardboard box in the back.

She carries it into the hall and stops in front of Ali with a smile. The real one. The one that is slightly lopsided and not the big, fake movie star grin. Ali smiles too. Knowing what it means before Marcy can even take a pink beret from the box. Holding it out as she leans in to kiss Ali’s cheek.

The young woman’s eyes filling with tears. The pink make-up still showing on her cheeks beneath the grime and blood.

Tamara next. Grinning and crying at the same time. Taking the kiss and taking the beret. Sharing a look with Ali. Sharing a nod. Both tugging them on at the same time as the others already wearing them whistle and cheer, and engulf them to pat their shoulders and give them hugs.

Marcy steps away and carries the box behind Lilly and around the table to Howie. Placing the box in front of him with a look that tells him they both know what needs to be done, but she won’t do it.

Howie gets that. He takes a pink beret out and looks to Lilly.

‘Two, Howie,’ Paula whispers, then frowns, and leans over to take it from his hand and another from the box, and she walks around the table to Lilly and Mary both rising to turn and face her. ‘Let’s leave the bad things in the past. You’ve earned these.’

She hands the first to Mary with a kiss to her cheek and a hug that Mary takes with grace and kindness while trying to hide the fear and worry inside. Then Paula shifts to face Lilly. Staring into her blue eyes and young face that now looks ageless. Covered in dried blood and filth, and gore, and Paula can’t help but reach out to gently turn Lilly’s head to see the chunk of ear bitten away. She hands the beret over and kisses Lilly’s cheek, and gives her a hug. Lilly doesn’t pull away, but she doesn’t hug back either. She looks down at the beret when Paula steps away, but she doesn’t put it on. Not for a moment anyway. She looks at it. At what it means, and Lilly thinks about the threat from George and a great many things all at once. All in an instant.

‘You can be all cold and mysterious, Blondie. But I’m putting mine on,’ Mary says and tugs it onto her head with a grin as she turns to Tilly and the others. ‘Waddya think, girls?’

‘That’s very fetching, so it is Mary,’ Tilly says.

‘Okay, enoughs!’ Krakov calls, holding his good hand out with a mock pained expression. ‘We fights too!’

‘It’s rude to ask,’ Paula tells him with a smile.

‘Ha! Is old world! In new world, we ask!’ Krakov says with a roaring laugh that sets the others off as Paula takes two more to hand over for Krakov and Elka. The lads cheering and whistling.

‘And Popov!’ Cookey calls.

‘Aye. Don’t we all get one?’ Tilly asks.

‘They’re not bloody scout badges,’ Blowers says.

‘Aye, but we bloody fought with you, didn’t we, Simon Blowers? And who stood at your side when your man Cookey ran up to canoodle with his lady? Aye. That was me, so it was, and you stood over me and helped me up, and held me in your strong arms, so don’t say it didn’t happen cos we both know it did. Now, do ye want to me to come over and discuss it with you a bit more personally? Because I bloody will.’

‘Love her,’ Marcy says.

‘Oh, god, totally,’ Paula says as the small woman seems to outstare the unkillable Sergeant Blowers grumbling as he walks over to take the box of berets.

‘Don’t be giving it to me all huffing and puffing now,’ Tilly says, glaring up at him. Five feet and maybe another inch. Curves to her body. Freckles across her nose, and an aura of mischievous defiance radiating from her core. ‘Ye be nice to me, Simon. And ye say thank you very much for covering my blind side, Tilly.’

‘Thank you very much for covering my blind side, Tilly.’

‘Aye. That’s better. Now put it on my head and tug it over, so I look good.’

He does it too. He puts the box down and puts it on Tilly’s head, and even tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear, and tugs it over.

‘Have you done it properly, Simon?’

‘Yes, Tilly.’

‘Right. Well. Thank you for the beret,’ she says and leans out, and turns her head to present her cheek. ‘Do ye need instruction on how to kiss?’

He does that too. Because it’s impossible not to do what Tilly says, and he kisses her cheek as she offers a smile and a wink with more than a hint of fun gleaming in her eyes. ‘Are ye gonna take me courting, are ye?’ she asks with a grin as he blushes furiously.

‘Your fucking cheeks, mate!’ Cookey says with a delighted laugh.

‘What about his cheeks?’ Tilly demands with a look at Cookey. ‘Ye got something to say there, Alex? I’ll be ribbing on Simon, so I will, but I’ll not stand another doing it.’

‘Ha, fuck you!’ Blowers says with a grin and a middle finger at Cookey, who promptly returns the gesture.

‘Stop with the cussing, lads. There’s a wee child in the room.’

‘Sorry, Tilly.’

‘Sorry, Tilly.’

‘And I think you’ve a big box of berets right there, and a lot of other people in this room just fought in that big fight. And those pink hats mean something to folk. They stand for something. It makes them feel safe and gives them hope, so I think a few more wearing ’em won’t be a bad thing at all.’

A few moments later, every head in the room wears a pink beret because what Tilly said was right.

They all fought in the battle for Winchester, and they all lost people they loved, and it does mean something now. A silly thing that started out as a joke when they were exhausted and hurt after Gatwick and after Rye. When Marcy shot an infected with their last bullet and made a bet for them all to wear the pink berets for a week.

So now they all wear one. Mike and Sophie. Livvy too. Popov and Sergei. Even Ann and Anika because they fought and held the line.

‘We cannot win as we are.’

All eyes go back to the child and the silence returns, and the snow falls thick and fast outside. Already coating the bodies of the fallen. Already laying on the tops of the vehicles.

‘We cannot win as we are,’ the boy says again. Still at the head of the table. ‘They are too strong, and they are too many.’

‘Pah! We will crush them!’ Krakov says.

Samir shakes his head. ‘If just we alone try, we will fail, and everything will die.’

Even Krakov falls silent at that. Feeling the same need inside to listen and do as the child says.

‘We need help,’ the boy says quietly. ‘And what comes will not be wanted, but we must take it… It is the only way.’

Silence again.

Then they hear it, and Meredith stirs with a low growl, and Jess snorts and stomps the ground with a front foot. Thor stirs too. Flapping his wings and making sounds. Unsettled. A charge in the air. Sudden and heavy. A presence coming at them.

Two modern, matt black armoured personnel carriers creeping slowly through the snow.

Sinister. Foreboding.

Six wheeled with harsh angles to the body.

An emblem on the side of each vehicle.

An orange and black circle within a triangle within a circle.

Words beneath. New World Order.

ALSO BY RR HAYWOOD

Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, Amazon & Audible bestselling author, RR Haywood. One of the most downloaded indie authors in the UK with nearly four million books sold and over 25 Kindle bestsellers.

DELIO. PHASE ONE

*WINNER OF “BEST NEW BOOK” DISCOVER SCI-FI 2023

#1 Amazon & Audible bestseller

A single bed in a small room.

The centre of Piccadilly Circus.

A street in New York city outside of a 7-Eleven.

A young woman taken from her country.

A drug dealer who paid his debt.

A suicidal, washed-up cop.

The rest of the world now frozen.

Unmoving.

Unblinking.

"Brilliant."

"A gripping story. Harrowing, and often hysterical."

"This book is very different to anything else out there - and brilliantly so."

"You'll fall so hard for these characters, you'll wish the world would freeze just so you could stay with them forever."

*

FICTION LAND

*Nominated for Best Audio Book at the British Book Awards 2023

*Narrated by Gethin Anthony

*The #1 Most Requested Audio Book in the UK 2023

*Now Optioned For A TV Series

*#1 Amazon bestseller

#1 Audible bestseller

“Imagine John Wick wakes up in a city full of characters from novels – that’s Fiction Land.”

Not many men get to start over.

John Croker did and left his old life behind – until crooks stole his delivery van. No van means no pay, which means his niece doesn’t get the life-saving operation she needs, and so in desperation, John uses the skills of his former life one last time… That is until he dies and wakes up in Fiction Land. A city occupied by characters from unfinished novels.

But the world around him doesn’t feel right, and when he starts asking questions, the authorities soon take extreme measures to stop him finding the truth about Fiction Land.

*

EXTRACTED SERIES

EXTRACTED

EXECUTED

EXTINCT

Blockbuster Time-Travel

#1 Amazon US

#1 Amazon UK

#1 Audible US & UK

Washington Post & Wall Street Journal Bestseller

In 2061, a young scientist invents a time machine to fix a tragedy in his past. But his good intentions turn catastrophic when an early test reveals something unexpected: the end of the world.

A desperate plan is formed. Recruit three heroes, ordinary humans capable of extraordinary things, and change the future.

Safa Patel is an elite police officer, on duty when Downing Street comes under terrorist attack. As armed men storm through the breach, she dispatches them all.

'Mad' Harry Madden is a legend of the Second World War. Not only did he complete an impossible mission—to plant charges on a heavily defended submarine base—but he also escaped with his life.

Ben Ryder is just an insurance investigator. But as a young man he witnessed a gang assaulting a woman and her child. He went to their rescue, and killed all five.

Can these three heroes, extracted from their timelines at the point of death, save the world?

*

THE CODE SERIES

The Worldship Humility

The Elfor Drop

The Elfor One

#1 Audible bestselling smash hit narrated by Colin Morgan

#1 Amazon bestselling Science-Fiction

“A rollicking, action packed space adventure…”

“Best read of the year!”

“An original and exceptionally entertaining book.”

“A beautifully written and humorous adventure.”

Sam, an airlock operative, is bored. Living in space should be full of adventure, except it isn’t, and he fills his time hacking 3-D movie posters.

Petty thief Yasmine Dufont grew up in the lawless lower levels of the ship, surrounded by violence and squalor, and now she wants out. She wants to escape to the luxury of the Ab-Spa, where they eat real food instead of rats and synth cubes.

Meanwhile, the sleek-hulled, unmanned Gagarin has come back from the ever-continuing search for a new home. Nearly all hope is lost that a new planet will ever be found, until the Gagarin returns with a code of information that suggests a habitable planet has been found. This news should be shared with the whole fleet, but a few rogue captains want to colonise it for themselves.

When Yasmine inadvertently steals the code, she and Sam become caught up in a dangerous game of murder, corruption, political wrangling and...porridge, with sex-addicted Detective Zhang Woo hot on their heels, his own life at risk if he fails to get the code back.

*

THE UNDEAD SERIES

THE UK’s #1 Horror Series

Available on Amazon & Audible

“The Best Series Ever…”

The Undead. The First Seven Days

The Undead. The Second Week.

The Undead Day Fifteen.

The Undead Day Sixteen.

The Undead Day Seventeen

The Undead Day Eighteen

The Undead Day Nineteen

The Undead Day Twenty

The Undead Day Twenty-One

The Undead Twenty-Two

The Undead Twenty-Three: The Fort

The Undead Twenty-Four: Equilibrium

The Undead Twenty-Five: The Heat

The Undead Twenty-Six: Rye

Blood on the Floor

An Undead novel

Blood at the Premiere

An Undead novel

The Camping Shop

An Undead novella

*

A Town Called Discovery

The #1 Amazon & Audible Time Travel Thriller

A man falls from the sky. He has no memory.

What lies ahead are a series of tests. Each more brutal than the last, and if he gets through them all, he might just reach A Town Called Discovery.

*

THE FOUR WORLDS OF BERTIE CAVENDISH

A rip-roaring multiverse time-travel crossover starring:

The Undead

Extracted.

A Town Called Discovery
and featuring

The Worldship Humility

*
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