The Zombie Evolution (15 page)
As these thoughts continued to whirl around my head, I noticed the second gate we were let through to get the tunnel had not been closed. In their panic, the gate operators fled to obtain weapons and now were occupied with shooting through the fence or assailing those who attempted to ascend it. The bedlam of the attack had caused them to miss the most simple of tasks, and yet again we had a hand in more people’s inevitable demise.
The zombies for now were otherwise engaged with the brutal slaughters of the soldiers and other residents of the first area, yet to notice the weak part of the fence. But it didn’t take them long, and as we disappeared down into the tunnel, losing visual on the whole thing, I managed to capture a last glimpse of one zombie finding the open gate and pushing its way through.
Fuck.
The tunnel was dark, and although only actually stretched across about half a mile, it seemed to go on forever. It was very narrow and thin, like driving down the Eurostar having a similar compacted feel about it. The whole thing was quite claustrophobic as the only light came from the entrance and the exit, both of which curved up so we plummeted into almost pitch black when travelling the middle. It was an impressive construction considering it must have been made extremely quickly and under quite some pressure, but the latter factors were still evident as we bounced over holes and were subjected to falling soil from overhead. The entire structure was held up by planks of wood hammered together above us; they looked sturdy enough on their own but even in the low light we could see that it wouldn’t take much of a disruption to cave the whole thing in. The rain had also made its way into the tunnel; we couldn’t see for definite just how much, but could hear it sloshing beneath us as was enough for the car to cast a wave as we drove through. As we made it through, up the exit, and onto the other side, we looked back and saw the zombies had now swarmed the second area too, which meant one thing; it wasn’t long before they found the tunnel and got through to us.
At present, the zombies had occupied themselves with the third fence. This one however was far thicker, and although we foolishly thought the first two fences were impenetrable, the third definitely seemed to be that way. It wasn’t weakened with points of entry, no gates or breaks for people to get through. The third was equipped with barbed wire from the base all the way up with no gaps, a security measure of which was apparent on both sides. Between the two sheets of barbed wire there was the fence itself, electrically charged, with thick steel bollards. This was merely a fence running over the top of the middle of the tunnel purely there to keep everyone out, not to let anyone or
anything
in. The only way the wave could get to us now was through the tunnel, and with their intellect advancing with every passing minute, it wouldn’t be long before they figured that out.
13.
The activity in the third section on the beach was just as manic; people frantically trying to get on boats and helicopters, losing patience as they awaited their turn to be evacuated. We hadn’t quite comprehended the scale of how many people would be on this side once we got through, having not been able to clearly see through the third fence on our approach. It was again utter pandemonium; Soldiers were desperately trying to keep order over the panicking civilians, but their hysterical desire to escape was causing more problems for everyone else. It was an endless cycle, but telling people to calm down with any conviction was a near on impossible task with zombies snapping their jaws now only a fence away, and with an open tunnel readily available leading them straight to us.
Some people were swimming out into the sea, tired of waiting for the boats or helicopters to take them to safety. The Isle of Wight was just about visible through the grey English mist, but was still too far of a distance for tired arms and legs to swim. It only took a quick squint of the eyes to see bodies floating face down not too far out in the water. Their desperation had caused their ultimate demise, but with death ever looming the madness of people who were despairingly trying to seek safety was understandable, however insane it may actually have been. It now seemed apparent that the plan was to get everyone to the Isle of Wight as a safer waiting ground, and then other boats, planes and helicopters were most likely trafficking civilians into Europe where we hoped the outbreak had no reached. Hope was becoming an ever important factor when there was nothing else, and for now the most important thing we could hope for was that the zombies didn’t find the tunnel.
There were hundreds of people lining the coast with very limited vessels making the trip. Two helicopters were making a far faster journey to and from the nearby island; the first had just left as the second started piling people in. They were only small, six seater helicopters, yet they were cramming what looked like about twenty people for each trip. Women and children were being permitted the luxury of escaping first, yet we could see a group of men becoming increasingly impatient as their turn didn’t appear to ever be coming. As the helicopter filled and attempted to leave, three men broke past the controlling soldiers and grabbed the feet of the chopper. Then, another four did the same, all clinging on and pulling themselves on board. The act caused mayhem as soldiers attempted to not only pull them back, but also to hold back the rest of the group of men who were likewise trying break past and hitch a lift. The imminent gunfire ensued, mowing down several men and catching a woman in the crossfire. A man caught the woman as she fell and cried as he held her in his arms. Clearly distraught by the instant loss of what appeared to be someone very close to him, the man darted forwards, managing to snatch a gun off another soldier before shooting the one who had shot his loved one in the head. The action caused screams and extensive pushing, both forward and back, as people didn’t know in which direction to run for help. Both civilian and soldier were now killing one another as a hold of the situation was completely lost. Needless to say, the gun wielding man of vengeance was shot down quickly by several guns, but in the action more people broke free of the restraints to gain a hold on the helicopter as it tried to leave. The vessel spun out of control on its take off under the excessive weight, unable to balance the vast amount of people hanging from underneath. The loss of control caused it to tilt backwards and fly rotor first into the agitated crowd, subjecting those awaiting saviour to its fast moving blades. The chopper slammed into the ground causing the engine to ignite and the tank to burst. The flame met the fuel, causing an eruption of fire and helicopter parts to light up the shoreline. One helicopter was now out of the equation, as were about fifty people who no longer needed to be saved.
Looking out across the water I could see that one of the Ferries had made a similar mistake in letting too many people on board. The portal was sinking under its own weight, so people were throwing others overboard into the water to lighten the load. I don’t know what their selection process was or if it was simply a ‘grab anyone and chuck them into the sea’ mentality, but it was clear their attempts at freeing up some weight were too little too late as the water gently crept up over the edge of the ferry before fast pouring onto the deck. The passengers desperately attempted to clear the ferry of water, using buckets, bags, their hands or anything else they could find to scoop it back into the sea. Unfortunately for them, the water going in far exceeded that being ejected, so it only took a short time before the whole thing was pulled under the surface and swallowed by the ocean with some unfortunates still stick inside, finding themselves trapped in a watery grave. Others managed to get free, either making their attempt back to shore or using the ferry as a stepping stone to get to the other side. I wished every person well in escaping the merciless abyss of the ocean and hoped they all had the strength to escape the current, the waves, and their own fatigue. For now though, yet another irreplaceable method of transport was gone due to the desperation of the civilians as they tried to seek safety. It was their desperation that lowered their chances, or in a lot of cases completely removed it all together.
The scream of the zombies was deafening, so much so it almost made me long for the moans we were initially subjected to. However fear-striking, they were at least slightly soothing and melodic, not like the piercing shrieks emitted from the advanced, evolved zombies that were swiping their hands through the barbed wire behind us. Their shrieks were like nothing I had heard before; a combination of a velociraptor (or at least what Jurassic Park had lead us to believe a velociraptor sounded like), a little girls scream and finger nails down a chalk board. All together creating a stomach-wrenching mix that terrified me to my very soul.
Looking around, avoiding the madness of panic induced hysteria, we could see that if we could stay in this area without the zombies getting through we went eventually be rescued. It could take a day, maybe two, but we had fought and travelled long enough to welcome a couple of days by the sea as we awaited someone so transport us to safety. It was invaluable time to rest our weary limbs and reflect on what we had seen, time to heal our wounds and get some well-deserved sleep on the sand and pebbles knowing that an escape was only hours away, and that we didn’t have to do anything to get it. That was something we were yet to have on this whole ordeal; a definitive escape, a clear route out, a way to find solace and ultimately a way to get back to our loved ones who waited for us on distant shores. We had various glimmers of optimism, but nothing that really looked like we really had a chance to get out. However, this was all on the basis the zombies didn’t get through the third gate. If they could be held at bay long enough for all of us to get off the shore we would be fine, yet if even one got through there was a huge risk of all our efforts having been for nothing. We needed something to stop them from getting through, a way of blocking off the tunnel. There was zero chance of them getting the better of the third fence, but they had an uninterrupted road straight to us readily available as soon as they found it, at which point they would rapidly flow through like water jet-propelled through a hose.
Peering up, the beach seemed to start moving in slow motion; people fighting to get on the vessels as they departed, people falling in the water or attempting escapes they knew in their hearts that they couldn’t achieve. I saw the flames dancing in the thin rain as they burned in the air from the wreckage of the helicopter, highlighting the bodies of those who lost their lives in the crash. People were crying and screaming, knowing that the zombies would break through at any minute, knowing that unless you were on a boat or on the one remaining helicopter then you had no chance of getting away. Mothers were holding their babies, frantically searching for someone to help save their spawns life. Fathers were holding their families, making every attempt to reassure them that everything would be alright, even if they didn’t believe it themselves. The beach pebbles were being churned in the air by people’s boots as they paced up and down, running back and forth between each boat in the hope there was space for them to get out. More and more people were swimming out into the water, some making it off further than my eyes could see, others perishing, submerging into nothingness, never to resurface. I looked up toward the grey, unforgiving sky and could see blackbirds circling, some perching upon fences and ledges, evidently stipulating their awareness of impending death. I turned to my friends, all of whom had adopted a look of despair, none knowing what to do next. They looked scared; the white of their eyes swallowing their pupils and glistening with a layer of fear inaugurated tears. The looked at one another, they looked at me, all hoping someone who come up with something,
anything
, to give them a sense of hope, a sense we all had a chance of getting out of this thing alive. For once, they all looked like they had no ideas, no clue on how to get out of this situation. They had no plan whatsoever to help both themselves and one another. But, seeing the desperation in the air, the amount of death there would be when the zombies found the tunnel, the amount of innocent, frightened people who would be brutally torn apart by those blood thirsty, hell sent, undead motherfuckers, I did have a plan; I’d do what I could to save these guys, even if it was the last thing I ever did.
14.
My foot had started showing signs of spasm, moving uncontrollably and causing me to stand peg-legged to avoid risk of falling over. There was a new pain unveiling itself; a third pain adding to the fun of the break and the bite. It was a warm, tingling pain that sent bullets up through my leg, causing the whole thing to seize, like I were being electrocuted in small, quick, but very painful charges. The injury was getting harder and harder to cover up; eventually I was going to have to tell my friends that I have been bitten. But then what? What kind of position would that put them in? They wouldn’t throw me out with the wave, I know they wouldn’t do that. They would try and get me to carry on hiding it until we were safe, until we had reached the Isle of Wight or maybe even got into Europe. They would never discard me, but ultimately that could be their demise. Was I going to turn? And if so, when? If I turned on the boat or in a small, confined area, I could unbeknown to my normal, human self be of harm to them and everyone else on the vessel. They were three strong male adults, sure, but if they weren’t paying attention, even for a second, I could inflict pain even in the sense of one bite to them, and that was a risk I simply couldn’t take.
I was no expert on when I would turn. I mean, really no one ever could be. You could document people turning and study the time, but those who would know for sure were those who now walked the Earth seeking the blood of others. They weren’t human anymore, and something told me that sitting them down for a coffee to ask them a couple of questions would most likely not go to plan. I could have minutes, hours, days, or just seconds, who knew? Again I thought back to Stacey; She must have been within 24 hours I would guess, and her bite was more central. She turned from human to zombie in mere minutes, but the total process from bite to turning was probably about a day. I was only an hour or so in now, so felt like I may have time. Perhaps I could make it to the other side of the sea and be treated? A blood transfusion perhaps? I was no doctor; maybe they had found a way of isolating the infecting cells? I could be saved from this.
However, all my hope seemed unlikely. All my possible positive outcomes to me were futile. If there was a cure, we probably would have seen signs of it, even as late in the day as being here. I don’t think many people were spending a lot of time seeing if they can help the infected, but more so making every effort to get away from them. The Army was under strict orders not to let anyone who even had a hint of infection through, despite their leniency with me which really was just a momentary lapse in concentration during an attack. So with no zombies getting off the island, I knew in my heart no one would be working on a cure, outside of the UK anyway. If someone was working on a cure within the island then it could be months or even years before they are discovered, assuming that they even make it out at all. I simply had to be true to myself, true to the situation I was in; that I should under no circumstances risk the lives of others by leaving Britain. Hope may come in other forms for me, but this wasn’t it, this was not my escape.
“They’re in the tunnel!”
The call came from behind us, which immediately preceded a huge unleash of gunfire on our side of the tunnel; soldiers flowing in as plentifully as possible, sparing every man they could to try and hold the wave back. From where we were, and with the dip down into the passageway, we couldn’t see what was actually happening, who for now was winning the battle, but we could hear the reverbed noise and it was deafening. The gunfire echoed around the air, thick and rapid. The piercing screams of the zombies were soon met with those of the soldiers as they cried out in agony, giving us a clear aural stipulation that more and more of the guys fighting our cause were meeting a horrific ending. More soldiers flooded in, but with every passing moment the deafening cloud of gunshot was subsiding, indication the battle was being won by the enemy, and ultimately that we were all in very serious danger. With most of the Army becoming increasingly out of the picture, should the zombies breakthrough then we stood no chance; the women and children would be brutally murdered and then eaten in front of their families before they too met the same fate. My friends and everyone else still standing would use every ounce of their strength to fend off the zombies. But if they fend off one, there’ll be another just behind. If they fend of the second, a tertiary zombie will be behind it, and so on and so forth until the fighter’s energy diminishes and they are forced to submit. We can never win this if they get through, so someone needed to make sure they didn’t.
One of the soldiers who had been shot was lying on the floor very close to us. The explosion from the helicopter had fired him across the beach where he now lay in a heap, or at least most of him did anyway. Around his waist was a belt with three grenades strapped to it. I averted my gaze down to the three grenades before looking up and catching Phil’s eye.
“Don’t.”
Tina, Derek and Jon turned to see the reason for Phil’s instruction, but my mind was made up.
“Make sure you get out of here. And when you do, tell Ashley I love her. Tell her, I’m with my brother and we’re doing fine”
I bent down and quickly pulled the grenades off the soldier’s belt before sprinting toward the car, the engine still running as it was sitting abandoned on the sand and pebbles. The boys chased after me, but I was that split second quicker than them which allowed me to get into the car and lock the doors. Phil banged on the window as Jon tried to pull the door open, Derek hobbling on his wounded leg to stand in front of the car in some hopeless attempt to stop me. They didn’t know I’d been bitten, so I guess to them it seemed unnatural and unprovoked for me to take the reins, to try and save them from the death that awaited them a mere half mile down an open tunnel. Phil stopped for a moment and stared me in the eyes.
“Don’t do it!”
He mouthed again.
I stared at him for a moment, and through my tears I told him.
“I’ve been bitten”
I mouthed back.
“I’m infected, and I
have
to go”
He looked shocked, lowering his head and closing his eyes. His lip quivered as he began sobbing tears of acceptance onto the beach below him, before looking back up. I know he was trying to say something, but I didn’t want any more prolonged goodbyes, any more heart ache or torment, so I looked forward, dead set on the tunnel. I needed to go, and I needed to go now.
Revving the engine, I spun the back wheels firing fountains of beach rocks up into the air. The back threw out momentarily, then the wheels caught grip on the ground and I accelerated forwards. I appreciated Derek’s attempt to stop me but he certainly didn’t want to get hit by a car, so as he realised I had no intention of stopping, he immediately dived out of the way into a combat roll across the beach.
I don’t know how the guys and Tina looked as I shot off, refusing to look back or glance in the rear view mirror. I would miss these guys terribly, but I wanted to remember the good times we’d had and keep them as my lasting memory, not signs of sadness of hatred or remorse or whatever else they may have been portraying behind me. I thought of everything we had gone through in this whole ordeal; every bit of risk of sacrifice one person had made for the other, every ounce of heroism and comradery that had gotten us to this beach in the first place, everything that had given us the courage and the confidence to believe we could make it out. Lance, Stacey, Mark, Damian, Carl, Kate; every single one of them was as determined and frightened as we were but weren’t as lucky as we had been to get this far. Our bond was strong, and perhaps if one of those guys we lost had someone like I had those three then they would have made it out too. I wanted to thank them by doing this, and do what I could for everyone else on the beach in the process. I genuinely meant what I had told them to tell Ashley too; that I
would
be with my brother and we
would
be fine. We weren’t religious by any stretch of the imagination, in fact I knew that my brother was quite vocally agnostic at times, but I found some comfort in imagining an afterlife where he was there waiting for me; reunited once again, brothers in arms.
Inevitably I took out a couple of soldiers with the car. I didn’t mean or intend to, but I was on a mission now and couldn’t swerve for anyone. It was only a matter of seconds before I was plummeted into the darkness of the tunnel anyway so it was impossible to maneuver around what or who I simply couldn’t see, ploughing forward as I heard bodies roll up over the car and bang across the roof before thudding on the ground behind me.
The car lights had never worked, so I had now lost pretty much all visual, driving as fast as I could in complete blackness using only the dim light ahead of the tunnel’s entrance as a target to aim for. The entrance was the only thing I had to help me try and keep the car straight. I waited until was about two thirds down, and as I heard one of those piercing screams just in front of me, I pulled the pins on all three grenades before launching one out the passenger side window and two out of the drivers’. Slamming my foot down as hard as I could on the pedal, I held my breath. Just in that brief moment, everything went completely silent. Everything was peaceful and tranquil, and I closed my eyes for a moment of solitude before I started counting down.
3….
I hope this saves the people on the beach.
2….
I hope this saves my
friends.
1….
I’m coming, brother.
BOOM.