“We gonna get you!” shouted a man just out of view.

  Joe and Mathew ran across the paving slabs, up three steps, heading for the arched entrance to the old building. Behind, the iron gate rattled, but they didn’t have time to turn around. Joe almost crashed into the door to the block, which luckily was—

  The glass panel above his head exploded, as a bullet shattered the glass. With Mathew he pushed inside then abruptly stopped, both of them almost falling into each other.

  Three forms stood in front of them, their heads hung low, which then slowly lifted.

  Joe swung around, just in time to see the barrels being raised and grabbed Mathew, pulling him to the ground as a volley of gunfire lit up the black-and-white checkered floor, oil paintings and vases on ornate tables.

  With the ringing still echoing in Joe’s ears, he looked at the things, which lay on the ground, shuddering, their hands still scratching at the floor, despite most of their skulls laying in pieces on the wall behind.

  “You got any guns?” shouted a voice from outside.

  Joe and Mathew turned around to face the silhouette of a group outside the building. Blinding torches made them both squint to see who was beyond the glare and they both slowly raised their hands at the guns being aimed at them.

  “Get up. You’re coming with us.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  LIZ

  Liz awoke with a jolt and immediately strained to see through the small triangular gap between the edge of the curtain and window frame. She leaned in closer to make sense of the shadows that existed at the periphery of the streetlight, but nothing moved outside her house.

  She looked at the clock on the wall to her right, which was fifteen minutes further on from when she last looked. She was sat in a chair which she had pulled up to be in front of the front room window. The one which gave her a view of her house across the street. Behind her were some sheets on the sofa, which she hadn’t touched.

  In her drowsiness, her mind had been awash with images of dead eyes and shadows that wanted to devour her, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Tia. Each time her daughter’s face came into her mind, it brought with it a flood of tears, and she had to remind herself that crying wasn’t going to get Tia back. The whole country was in the middle of a historic crisis and she needed to do her best to stay clear minded. There would be time for wallowing in pity once her family were back together.

  A violin concerto played from James’ radio, which sat on a small table to her side. It ran on batteries and it had been decided by them both, that it could be turned on once an hour for a few minutes to hear what was being broadcast. She had already turned it on roughly thirty minutes earlier, but couldn’t bring herself to switch it off. Not that there was anymore news, but that the occasional sound of humanity helped keep the nightmare visions, at bay. So she kept it on with the volume low.

  She leaned back on the cushion behind her head, which still ached from earlier, although the painkiller she took dulled the throbbing somewhat and tried to think about what could come next. Where was the government? The man on the radio said the country was being run on a wartime footing. A special cross-party cabinet had been convened, but the prime-minister was nowhere to be seen or heard. To Liz it looked as if the whole country had been left to its own devises. There were the camps around the country, but it was being reported that people were now being turned away from them, and even some reports of the army firing on people. So what about everyone else?

  She presumed her family and herself were part of the ‘everyone else.’ They needed to find ways to survive. But that meant knowing what had happened. And that picture was still completely confusing.

  She looked at the small notepad that James had given her, along with the pencil. It was filled with scribbles and notes. ‘Undead’, ‘zombie’ both had question marks alongside, as well as ‘regenerating cells.’ She also had the company name of Sentriculture ringed, and ‘food chain.’ The national scandal and the events of the past day couldn’t be a coincidence. She wanted to speculate. Find some answer to the madness that could be useful, but she was exhausted and was in the murky state between being too tired to think and too awake to sleep.

  She looked around the room for something to tip her one way or the other, maybe a—

  A noise of something falling came from outside. She immediately sprung forward and pulled the curtain back some more. A cone of light was moving around the upstairs window of her home. She leaped from her chair, running from the room, into the hallway, where she unlatched the door and tore down the stairs, along the ground floor and pulled open the front door. Taking only the slightest of moments to check the pavement and street were clear she ran across the road, almost fumbling her door key and pulled the door open. It was at this point she realised that maybe she should have brought a knife or some kind of weapon with her.

  Her hallway was dark but lacked obvious movement. She stepped over the threshold, being acutely aware of the silence. “Hello?” she whispered. She took another step inside. “Joe?” A floorboard creaked upstairs, causing her to rush to the bottom. “Joe?” she questioned in the void above.

  “Liz?” said a voice she recognised. Alise emerged from the shadows at the top of the steps.

  “You’re okay?” said Liz, with a mixture of joy and regret.

  The young woman began walking down the stairs. “Yes, I ran when the men invaded your home… sorry. Did they hurt you?”

  Liz looked into the living room, which was bathed in shadow like the rest of the house. “They knocked me unconscious but… I survived. We can’t stay here, the things were here earlier.”

  “Where are you…”

  Liz’s heart missed a beat on seeing the expression on Alise’s face. The girl was looking past her, over her shoulder to something Liz could not to see. Alise screamed and in one movement Liz pivoted, ran to the door and slammed it closed in the face of a walking, animated corpse that even in the leftover light from the nearby streetlamp, she could see was just a remnant of a human being. She threw the latch across as the door shuddered, then spun around. “Alise!”

  The girl appeared at the top of the stairs, running to the bottom as whatever was outside continued its attack on the front door.

  “We can’t stay here. There’s a flat across—”

  Glass shattered from the dining room, the remains of the patio doors falling to the floor and with it came the sound of scampering. Instinctively Liz ran up the stairs, following Alise, but something cold and sharp clamped onto her calf, causing an explosion of pain. Kicking out with her still functioning boot, she connected again and again with the head of a creature which smelled of rotten eggs, but it continued to bite down, the pain becoming so intense she wanted to vomit. Being vaguely aware of Alise somewhere above, Liz’s world began to constrict and grow even darker.

  The creature fell back then slid down the rest of the stairs, landing in a heap at the bottom.

  “It got me!” was all she could think to say, as she tried to get up but failed miserably, her hands shaking so much she couldn’t grab the bannister.

  “I got you!”

  James’ voice surprised her. He was below. His face lit by Alise’s torch.

  The two of them helped Liz get up and then down the stairs, where he opened the front door. Trying to think through the cascading pain, Liz made an attempt to warn him, but he didn’t need it and jammed a knife into the skull of the figure hovering there. It immediately dropped to the ground and they carried her out.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JOE

  Joe struggled against the cords binding his wrists. They were loosening. But it was taking too long. An hour had passed since they were taken to the large building. He guessed it was an old library in a former life, that being just twenty-four hours before. He and Mathew had been placed in a storeroom, full of shelves of boxes containing, he presumed, old tomes.

  He looked at the younger man by his side, his cheeks still glistening from tears. He got it. The world ends and then you get taken by a street gang. Not a good day. But Joe had been in a similar situation some years earlier, during his second tour. His patrol had been ambushed. Four dead and two taken, held in a basement for a week before operators arrived and he was rescued.

  He continued flexing his muscles and relaxing, the method he had been taught. But even if he did get the cords off, he was going up against at least fifteen. Those were what he counted. It was a conflict he wanted to avoid, so he had another plan. Negotiation.

  “Hey, anyone out there?” he shouted.

  As with the last time he tried, there was no response.

  “They’re going to kill us,” said Mathew, his voice trembling.

  “No reason to do that, and if that were true we would already be dead.”

  “So they’re going to keep us around to torture us or maybe snack on us if the food runs out!”

  “Just concentrate on breathing. I know it’s scary. This whole day’s been scary, and we’re not done yet. Be ready for anything.”

  “I just want to get to my mate’s place. He’ll know what to do. He’s been planning for this for over a decade, since after his wife died.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Greg.”

  Joe sniffed. The smell of fire was in the air. The kind of odour you got from an old fireplace.

  Mathew’s eyes grew large. “They’re going to burn us alive!”

  Joe let out a slow breath. “Breathe, Mathew. That’s all you have to do. We’ll get out of this.”

  The sound of footsteps came from outside the door.

  “This is it,” said the computer guy. “The end.”

  A key could be heard in the lock and the door swung open. “The guv wants a word.” The man with a shaved head and a pierced nose was looking at Mathew, who swallowed.

  “I have something to say to your boss,” said Joe.

  The man looked at him. “Well, he ain’t got nothing to say to you.”

  “I know where he can get guns… There’s a territorial base not far from here, and I know how to get inside.”

  “You army or something?” The man smirked. “All your lot ran away. Didn’t give a shit about the streets of London when the dead appeared.”

  “I’m a former para. Did two tours in the middle-east. I can get your people into the base. If that’s something your guv, would be interested in…”

  The man let out a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, fine.” He moved and pulled the cords from Joe’s and Mathew’s ankles, but left the wrist ones intact.

  “What you burning?” said Mathew.

  “Books. No one needing them anymore and we need the room to make this place, comfy-like. Got ourselves a nice big bonfire in the street out front.”

  Mathew glanced nervously at Joe. He understood, but remained quiet. They both followed the man out of the room, past empty bookshelves which lined a larger space then into the central staircase, which they climbed to the next level, coming out to a small, narrow hallway with multiple doors.

  “This whole floor is the guv’s. Gonna make himself a penthouse up here.”

  Joe nodded and they moved to the first door, where the man knocked then opened it.

  A small group of men and one woman stood around a desk, with various bags and boxes scattered across the carpeted floor. Outside the window, smoke drifted past as well as cheers and shouts, just audible through the glass.

  Some of the men stood back revealing another, older than the rest and unshaven. He was also the only one not to have a tattoo. He held up Mathews’s computer tablet. “I’ve been looking through your maps and stuff. Looks like bollocks to me.” He slammed it down on the desk, making Mathew wince. The man looked at Joe. “Why the fuck is he here?”

  “He’s army. Says he can get us guns.”

  “Oh, is that so?” He looked around the others. “Tie a fucker up and suddenly they want to help.” The others laughed and he continued “And where might we get these guns then?”

  “There’s a base not too far from here. They will have some weapons. Probably didn’t have time to get them out.”

  One of the larger individuals grunted. “And they’re gonna be under lock and key. We ain’t getting shit.”

  “There’s a code. I don’t know if it still works, but it’s for civilian staff. Might get you in.”

  “And what’s this code?”

  Joe smiled. “Let Mathew go—” The younger man looked at him. “— then when you get to the base, I’ll give you the code.”

  The big man, who smelled of sweat, frowned, looking at his boss. “We got guns. And we can get more from Ted. This guy’s just trying to save his own neck.”

  Joe nodded. “Yeah, I am. But there are still guns in that base. And you always need more guns.”

  The man in charge, who was still sat behind the desk, nodded. “And ammo?”

  “Should also be in the armoury.”

  The man nodded. “Then I reckon you get to live a bit longer. I’m Swanson, and you are?”

  “Joe.”

  “Mathew.”

  Swanson looked at the younger of the two. “No one asked your name. You’re just the nerd. Nerd’s won’t be needed anymore in the new London…” He stopped, tilting his head slightly. A radio crackled, which he pulled from the surface of the desk and held it to his face. “What’s that noise? Over.”

  “Got some movement at the end of the street, near the park. Looks like maybe, twenty to thirty of them. Over.”

  He looked to the far end of the room, where one of his group was looking through a north facing window. “What you seeing?”

  Before they could reply a different voice came from the radio once more, a woman. “I’m seeing a large group of the things, on the main street, coming up from the south. Over.”

  The large man looked at his boss who nodded, then looked at the others in the room. “All of you with…”

  There was a tapping sound above them, which quickly grew louder.

  “The fire,” said Joe. “Is drawing them towards you.”

  The boss’s face contorted into anger. He looked at his second in command. “Get that damn—”

  Joe felt the vibration before the far window exploded and the room became a blur of black, winged shadows, which scratched and tore at those who were not quick enough to dive to the ground. As the talons slashed at their faces, Joe and Mathew half crawled, half ran, crashing through the door with their still bound hands, into the hallway, where two others spilled out with them, leaving the screams behind.

  Joe dragged Mathew to his feet, both beginning to run towards the stairwell, when a click sound stopped Joe in his tracks, but Mathew kept on going not understanding what the noise meant.

  “Uh, uh,” said Swanson, a trickle of blood running down his cheek, his back against the door, which shuddered as those inside tried to escape.

  Mathew slowed and with a breath, turned around in defeat.

  The boss looked at the larger man who had also escaped the room. “Get downstairs, and put that damn fire out.”

  The tall man didn’t hesitate, turning and passing Mathew, then disappeared into the stairwell.

  “It’s too late,” said Joe. “They’re already on their way. You need to relocate.”

  Swanson waved the barrel of his handgun in Joe’s direction. “We ain’t going anywhere. We can fend off a few dozen of those things.” He frowned, a thought suddenly pinging in his mind. “Shit, I left the radio in the room.” The human sounds beyond the door had been replaced with silence. He looked at Mathew. “Why don’t you go back in there and get it for me? Or I could just shoot you here, on this very smart looking carpet.”

  Joe was close enough to grab for the gun, but if the old guy was determined, he could pull the trigger before Joe got to him, and at this distance there wasn’t much chance of Swanson missing. “I’ll get it.”

  “I ain’t risking you. Unless you want to tell me the code to that base of yours?”

  Joe remained quiet.

  “I thought not.” Swanson looked back to Mathew. “Nope. You go.”

  Mathew looked at Joe, swallowed his fear and walked to the door, trying to listen for any sign of life on the other side.

  “Come on! Get in there!”

  Swanson stood back a few feet as Mathew opened the door a few inches. A metallic smell permeated the air, making him heave a little, but he pushed the door a bit more, enough to squeeze his head into the gap. He looked back at Swanson who gestured he keep on going.

  Mathew did, moving into the room and closed it behind him. The things that had invaded the space were gone, leaving four bodies on the floor, one of which was still moving. The woman, whose blood-soaked shredded face was missing an eye, said something between frayed lips, that sounded like a cry for help. He stepped around her and over another body, spotting the radio on the floor behind the desk. It lay in three parts, its innards trampled. He picked it up anyway, placing it on the desk, then spotted a greater prize. His computer tablet. He snapped it up, placed it in his inside pocket then started to move back to the door, when his sneaker kicked something heavy. The handgun toppled over a few times, landing at the feet of another of the bodies.

  He looked at the woman. Her eye was closed, her body not moving and walked silently—

  “What you doing in there!” shouted Swanson, who was mere feet away on the other side of the door.

  Mathew bent down, picking up then fumbling the handgun as the handle shook and the door slowly opened. He shoved it into his side jacket pocket, praying the bulge wasn’t too obvious.

  Swanson stood in the doorway looking at the bodies. “Well, what a mess.” He looked at Mathew. “You find it?”

  Mathew looked at the desk, making Swanson swear and shake his head. “Those damn things are worth more than guns. Gonna be a bitch to try and—” A scream then shouts drifted past the jagged shards of glass of the open window.