Day 5 of 28 days later. I will be doing 28 posts, each post will be one day. Starting from the first day of infection. It will focus on one character
Hello all.
If you arent up to date here's part 1 of the series.
https://www.reddit.com/r/28dayslater/s/T0iAD2nL8D
Day 5.
The Sun rose over the green hills of England. Peaceful rivers flowed into the sea, birds sang their morning calls to the sun and deer moved silently through the forests. Nature, no matter what chaos in the human realm. Always seemed at peace, unbothered and unaffected.
SGS Oakhanger.
Uniformed men coated in darkness, quietly held a meeting. The air was stale and uncomfortably warm. CRT Tv screens decorate the wall like a mosaic covering. They show absolute pandemonium, miles of traffic, cars ramming each other, more screens show CCTV footage from streets of towns surrendered without a fight to the infected.
Its carnage as a swarf of infected crash into populated areas, their advance unchecked and unable to be stopped.
No evacuation has been officially ordered by the government, military or local councils. But those closest to the infected zones aren't waiting anymore. It started slowly, neighbours packing their belongings in the night, people turning up at trainstations, carrying as much as they could carry, peering around only to see ALL TRAINS ARE CANCELLED. The writing was on the wall, East Anglia was doomed.
'The vast majority of East Anglia is now cut off. There have been reports of Infected in Colchester.' People are either running the gauntlet through previously infected areas trying to reach safety west or they head east, simply unaware that the infected have essentially encircled Norfolk and Suffolk.
One of the dark figures speaks up. 'The royal engineers are deploying north of London and all overseas personnel are being recalled. The Americans aren't happy about us pulling out but they've also been evacuating their own soldiers from their bases here. Flights have been non stop and hell rumour has it, even the US embassy in London is clearing out'
'Maybe they know something we don't' another Dark figure says.
John is sitting on his sofa, a lit cigarette burning away between his fingers but he's yet to take a single drag of the calming nicotine. It has nearly reached the filter.
The ash of the burnt cigarette, is yet to break, yet to fall.
*BBC News*
A middle aged news presenter stands in front of a map of the UK, usually reserved for weather forecasting. Instead of showing temperatures and what the day will bring.
Instead it shows East Anglia, a red mark spreading out from both Peterborough, Cambridge, Colchester and Kings Lynn. The red blotch appears to completely cut off Suffolk and Norfolk. With grim determination and a British stiff upper lip.
The presenter begins reading from an unseen teleprompter, a list far too long for her own liking. Small villages and towns assaulted by the virus. Areas not to be entered, the stay at home area expanded to the outskirts of London, Northampton, Luton, Enfield, Leicester, Nottingham and the list went on.
It was spreading rapidly and had moved through the night. The infected follow the headlights of people fleeting and gleaming lights of homes. A beacon of fresh prey.
Repeating government issued advice and emergency phone lines continuously moved across the bottom of the screen.
999 had been completely inundated, to the point it had been abandoned in favour of localised numbers. Focusing on certain areas.
The camera zoomed out to show the rest of the panel. A Portly man dressed in a suit and a woman in military uniform. The Portly man started in a vexing over zealous tone. 'The government has the situation in hand, our advice is to stand firm and wait'
'Help is coming' For whom John wondered.
Major Williams Spoke up, her name clearly displayed on the screen
'The police, military and emergency services will soon be entering infected areas. To begin clean up operations and to restore order. Rest assumed the situation is in hand'
The news presenter could see how violently the Major's hands shook underneath the table but did not comment on it.
'We now go live to Cathy'
'Hello Susan!' A surprisingly joyful young reporter says. 'I'm around 30 minutes away from Peterborough and as you can see' *The camera pans around, to calm empty neighbourhood streets. No sign of the infected, violence or panic*
She stands close to an old couple. She introduces them as Wally and Wilma Brackheart. Wally is 86 years old and Wilma is 79.
'So tell us Wally, why haven't you left yet and why won't you' Cathy asks. 'I grew up around ere, I was a boy when the Germans bombed us, Bah!' He taps his walking stick on the ground 'This is nothing, we'll turn this around you'll see. I've got plenty of food, water and cigars to see me through. We'll just close the curtains and wait' Wally grunts, clearing his throat.
'Well there you have it Susan, if Wally isn't worried then I'm not worried. Back to you at the studio'
John looked at the TV, his eyebrow raised like he smelled something cooking. That seemed fake, he thought. The reporter seemed too happy and unworried. She does realise what she is reporting on. I mean, what chance did Wally and Wilma have. Locking themselves inside with food, water and cigars... 'Oh'
John realised then, his meager supplies aren't enough to last a week let alone however long this lasts. Payday couldn't come soon enough, John wished he hadn't brought Halo now. He could have and should have brought food.
Clacton-on-Sea Pier around 14.30pm. Hundreds of people stand on the Pier, its usual screams of joy from the carnival rides and attractions are replaced with the voices of despair and desperation. HMS Nottingham had tied herself to the end of the pier at high tide. She had nearly run aground but by some miracle. She stayed buoyant. Royal marines filled past the desperate crowd. Towards the chaotic scene of the surrounding town.
The ship and its crew were ordered to Portsmouth. Instead they came here, no one had thought to send evacuation ships to the East Anglian coast. Likely, this was not a mistake.
Every step the infected took East was less one West and more importantly South.
Commander Richard Farrington had received word via short wave radio of a plea for help. Hundreds were trapped at the pier, no way out and the infected were coming.
'We are limited in space but can make multiple trips, please remain calm'. A young sailor called to the crowd. A series of cracks broke the silence. SA80 assault rifles discharged in rapid succession, the infected had come. The Royal marines, brave as they are, would not hold the tide for long.
The crowd surged forward, people pressing so tightly together the rails on the Pier broke, sending poor souls into the choppy waters. A sergeant fired his pistol in the air but the panicking crowd could not be calmed. One by one, the rifles of the brave royal marines fell silent. 'Take my baby please!' A mother a few rows back lifted her precious cargo, the crowd shifted then calmly and with a delicate touch oh so gentle. They floated the baby across a sea of hands towards the waiting sergeant's arms. With tears in his stern eyes, he brought the child on board. One by one, children were lifted and carried towards the waiting sailors.
The infected reached the crowd, parents met them with fierceness that they had not known they processed. Punching and kicking. Grabbing the infected, dragging them over the side of the pier and into the waters below. As the primal instinct to protect their young overrode the survival instinct.
HMS Nottingham cast off her cargo aboard and sailed for open waters.
Map made using CHATGPT.
Edit, I apologise for grammar. I wake up around 4.30am for work and i think I posted this around 8 or 9pm last night.