For Those In Peril (Book 2): The Outbreak
The
Outbreak
Text Copyright © 2014 Colin M.
Drysdale
Imprint and Layout Copyright © 2014
Colin M. Drysdale/Pictish Beast Publications
All rights reserved. No part of this
book shall be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any
means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without
permission from the author. While this book contains information about specific
real world locations and the author has done his best to ensure that it is
accurate from a sailing perspective, some artistic licence has been taken in
places. As a result, this book should not be used as a navigational aid or to
plan voyages.
ISBN - 978-1-909832-06-0
Published by Pictish Beast
Publications, Glasgow, UK.
Printed in the United Kingdom
Kindle eBook Edition.
This is a work of fiction.
While it uses real locations as the
basis for the story it tells, all the characters and events are fictional. Any
resemblance to anyone living, dead or undead is purely coincidental. Similarly,
while the source of the infection is linked to bioengineering, it is purely
fictional and any resemblance to any real commercial or research organisation or
activity is purely coincidental.
www.ForThoseInPeril.net
Cover Image:
Copyright C.M. Drysdale, 2013.
Other Books
by Colin M. Drysdale
Zombies can’t swim and other Tales of the Undead
Preface
This is the second
book in the
For Those In Peril
series. I know that there will be many who
are champing at the bit to find out what happens to Rob and his crewmates (the
characters from the first book), but before that can happen, I need to introduce
a new cast of characters, and provide a first-person view of what it’s like to
be in a city as it’s being overrun by ‘the infected’. Rest assured, though, Rob
and the others will reappear in the third book in the series.
Just like the first
book, for this second one, I have drawn on my own life experiences to write it.
Much of the sailing side of things is based on the time I spent working on a
number of whale-watching vessels on the west coast of Scotland in the 1990s.
They were fun days as I learned not just about sailing, but also about how
different my native land looked when viewed from the sea rather than from the
shore.
However, I’ve also
drawn on the experiences I had while I worked for a few years, off and on, as a
professional juggler, plying my trade as part of a double act on, amongst other
places, Buchanan Street in Glasgow, Scotland’s largest and most cosmopolitan
city. Thus, much of the back story of Ben, the narrator of this book, is based
on my own, although, while at one point it was a distinct possibility, I never
did take the job I was once offered working on a whale-watching vessel in the
Azores. Maybe if I had my life would have turned out more like Ben’s (or at
least Ben’s life up to the point where this book starts).
During my time as a
juggler, I worked with Gordon, who was a few years older than me and who was,
for about ten years, a permanent fixture on Buchanan Street, regularly drawing
crowds of several hundred people as he performed his show (or
our
show
when we worked together). While all the characters in this book are entirely
fictitious, some elements of one of the characters (Tom) were inspired by him.
While he is no longer around, I think if he was, he’d have got a kick out of
being remembered in this way. Of course, he would also have told me that I’d got
him completely wrong, but then again, Tom isn’t meant to be Gordon, they just
happen to have some characteristics in common (although I won’t tell you which
ones).
As always with
writing any book, there are plenty of people to thank. These include Stephen
Burges, Michele Airns, Jennifer Learmonth, Chris Parsons, Emily Lambert, Lilian
Lieber and Barry Nicholls for their comments on early drafts. Thanks also to
Chloe Burges for answering my questions on how to treat a pneumothorax with the
types of everyday items usually found on a boat. In addition, I would like to
thank Anna MacLeod and Gale Winskill (
www.winskilleditorial.co.uk
) for
their editing and proof-reading skills.
Finally, the
biggest thanks of all must go to Sarah for her patience as I developed the basic
plot for this book, for her editing advice and for her support throughout the
writing process, and throughout my life.
The real-world locations where the
fictional events of
The Outbreak
take place.
For more information about these
locations, including interactive maps, visit
TheOutbreak.ForThoseInPeril.net.
What if the
end comes, not with a whimper or a bang, but with a scream?
Prologue
General McDonald burst through the door without bothering to knock. ‘Sir, that
was the Americans; it’s official: Miami’s been overrun.’
‘I
know. I’m watching it happen.’ The Prime Minister nodded to the large television
on the wall of his private office, a grim look on his face. On the screen, CNN
was showing grainy footage from a security camera on what seemed like a
permanent loop. ‘I don’t think they’re going to be able to contain it. If this
thing can bring down Miami, imagine what would happen if it reached London.’
The
General turned to the TV. On it, hundreds of people were surging through
downtown Miami, attacking anyone they could catch. The footage froze for a
second and then the mob stormed down the street again. After watching it a third
time, he turned back to the Prime Minister. ‘The Americans, they’re sure all
this is down to this new virus?’
‘They’ve not made it public yet, but they’re 100 per cent on it.’ The Prime
Minister puffed himself up. ‘I heard it from the President himself.’
‘And
there’s no cure?’
The
Prime Minister rose and walked over to the General. ‘No.’
‘No
treatment?’
‘No.’
A thin
layer of perspiration started to form on the General’s forehead. ‘There’s no
vaccine?’
‘I’ve
got people looking into it, but it doesn’t seem like there’s anything viable.’
The Prime Minister strode back to his desk. ‘And even if there was, people
probably wouldn’t take it: they’d be too scared of what it might do to them.
You’ve got to remember … it was a vaccine that caused the virus to mutate in the
first place.’ With a sigh, he slumped into his chair. ‘Anyway, it’s all
academic. At the rate it’s now spreading, there isn’t enough time, even if there
was something promising we could work on.’
General McDonald moved over to the window and leant on the sill, gazing at the
people walking along the street several storeys below. ‘In that case, we need to
start thinking about ourselves. We need to close the borders; we need to do all
we can to make sure the virus doesn’t get in.’ The General turned back to face
the room. ‘And we need to do it now.’
The
Prime Minister sat silently for a full minute, hands together in front of his
face, the tips of his index fingers touching his lips, before he spoke again.
‘You’re right, it’s our only choice. How long will it take?’
The
General glanced at his watch. ‘It can be done within the hour.’
‘Right,’ the Prime Minister placed his hands on his desk and levered himself to
his feet, ‘I’d better make an announcement before everyone starts to panic.’
He was
halfway to the door when the General cleared his throat. The Prime Minister
froze as General McDonald started to speak again. ‘There’s something else we
need to discuss ...’
The
Prime Minister turned, the anger clear on his face. ‘You really think this is
the time to be discussing anything else?’
‘Yes.’
The General stiffened. ‘We need to decide what to do if the virus gets in.’
The
Prime Minister took a pace towards the General and bellowed, ‘But you said
closing the borders would stop that from happening!’
General McDonald had to stop himself taking an involuntary step backwards. ‘No,
sir
, I said it’d minimise the risk. There’s a big difference between the
two.’
The
Prime Minister remained where he was, his face contorted by fury and confusion
as he tried to work out how best to respond. After a few seconds he gave up and
walked back to his seat. When he spoke again, it was in a resigned tone. ‘So
what are the options?’
The
General swallowed nervously. This was the moment he’d been dreading. He knew
what they’d have to do, but he wasn’t sure he could convince the Prime Minister
to agree to it. ‘There’s only one viable option, sir.’
‘If
there’s only one bloody option,’ anger rose in the Prime Minister’s voice again,
‘why do we need to discuss it?’
General McDonald did his best to sound self-assured, but inside his stomach was
churning. ‘Because of what it would mean we’d need to do.’