When Steven decided to travel to the U.K. it was to leave behind a failing relationship, less then stellar grades from his final year in University and to catch up with a couple of mates already there. He made up his mind and was on a plane in three weeks, New Zealand passport and a band new working holiday makers visa in hand.

As he drove from Wellington to Auckland to catch his flight he past Waiouru Military Camp and could not hide a somewhat pained look on his face as he remembered his time there. He regretted not taking the offered place in the battalion, but he knew the life was not for him.

Another reason for going to London was to continue the party he joined when he enrolled for his degree course at Otago University. He studies were fairly interesting but it was the social and night life that really caught a hold.

He spent the first two weeks on friends couches catching up with mates and trying out the platitude of bars. He then decided to go to Greece for a couple more weeks with a flatmate of a friend. By the time he returned he need to find a job and picked up some bar work the day he started looking.

That was the course of the next couple of years, work for six months go to Europe for six months.

When the infection took hold Steven missed the first few days. He was sick in bed with the flu in his room above the pub. He slept for the first two days and while some of the noise outside his window would have caught the attention of anyone else he just could not get out of bed. When he started to feel better he took a cold shower and the got dressed to go ask why the power was off. It was lunch time and the pub was still closed on a week day. There was no one in the building and Steven was already concerned. He went up stairs to the roof and as he looked out the scene of devastation was unreal. Plumes of smoke hung over the city and the streets were empty. There were abandoned cars everywhere and scenes straight out of a movie.

He went back downstairs and collected his phone. He had over seventy messages and missed calls nearly everyone he knew had tried to call him. All the texts indicated people were leaving the city. He tried to call his girlfriend Ruth, but couldn't get a signal. She lived in Wimbledon which was a short trip on the tube if it was running.

He cautiously made his way to the tube station, leaving the pub by the rear entrance. He had taken some cans of food and a bottle of water as well as his pack that contained all of his processions. At the entrance to the tube station he saw even more unbelievable sights a double decker bus had ploughed into the Burger King under the iconic Picadilly sign.

The roads around the aros statue were clogged with cars and he had to climb over them to get to the entrance. The stairs lead down into the inky blackness and it was at this point his composure waned and he could not go down.

So he made for St James park and crossed it and made his way to Victoria Station. It to was deserted or so he thought as he moved through the station he thought he was being watched, he jumped the barrier and once on the platform turned to see several figures moving towards him from the ticketing hall. They did not look right so he ran. He had learnt not to stare or converse with people he didn't know in London.


He dropped onto the rails and ran along them out of the station. He was an hour and a half into his journey and was making good time. The tracks were clear except for the odd stalled train which he would bypass at a run. As he closed on Clapham junction station a terrifying sight greeted his eyes. It looked as if a express train had jumped the rails just as it would have speed through the station. It looked to have mowed along the crowded platform before hitting the escalator and careening up into the ticket hall. The stench was over powering and he again moved past as fast as he could.

On the other side of the station several cars had been pushed off the bridge onto the rails from the train exiting onto the road in front of the station. A bright red police car was sitting as if placed onto the rails, both front door were open and thankfully no one was inside. He looked up and saw where the car had been pushed through the brick wall. Its right side was crumpled and the trunk had burst open from the fall. He leaned in to look for supplies, the central column contained what looked like a lock box and several black pistol magazine were spread over the drivers seat. He collected them up, seven in total and wished the pistols that used them were still there. He then opened the left side passenger door and a Glock 17 pistol fell at his feet.

He picked it up and looked at it. Possession of a handgun in the UK, especially a stolen police one was a mandatory five years behind bars. He put it in his pocket and walked around the rear of the car ready to leave. He took a quick look in the trunk of the car expecting it to be empty, instead he could see a bag with medic across the front, two MK13 Flash Bang grenades rolling lose and a Heckler & Koch G36C assault rifle with several magazines. There was also a baton round launcher, but it had been damaged in the impact from the fall it's barrel dented.

He was already in trouble for taking the pistol so to hell with it he grabbed the rest and stuffed it all in his pack. The rest of the walk to Wimbledon was uneventful he supposed it was due to the high security fence that ran the length of the tube lines but he did not see anyone else. Steven did look back towards the bridge and he thought he saw several figures standing watching him.

His girlfriends flat was deserted and the occupants had left in a hurry. He found a letter on her bed she had hastily written explaining they were being evacuated and she thought they may be going towards the coast. He sat on the bed and read the letter several times before putting it in his jacket pocket.

He then too off his jacket and boots and arranged the weapons he had recovered on the bed. He had 240 rounds of 5.56mm and 136 rounds of 9mm hardly enough to start a war, but it should see him to the coast. He laid down on the bed to think what to do next and fell asleep.

A car alarm sounded further along the road and he woke with a start. It was dark and another car alarm sounded, closer this time. He lifted the corner of the curtain in the sitting room and saw a large group of figures in the road even though the rain that had started when he left the station was now coming down in waves. He crawled on all fours back to the bedroom and moved a chest of drawers into the hallway in front of the door. The hallway was so narrow that the front door would not swing in any more with the piece of furniture blocking it. Steven than got back into bed still unsure of the time.

When he woke he again crawled to the window and looked outside. The figures where still there and may have grown in number. It was time to go, he took the box where they kept the camping gear off the wardrobe. Inside was the two man tent they used in Croatia, the small Coleman gas cooker, camping pot, kettle and cutlery, the Solaroll solar charger and a few packs of freeze dried food left over from their last trip to the Lake District.

Once it was all packed he raided the kitchen for cans and took a knife from the draw as well as the packets of batteries. As he climbed over the dresser in the hall he thought he heard someone on the stairs but he dismissed it. The guns were last, he put the assault rifle on the pack where the ice axe would usually be secured. It had a small pocket that the muzzle fitted into and two velcro straps for the receiver and stock. The Glock pistol went into his right pocket and four magazines the left. He found one of the Speights wool watch caps he got at some pub promotion and put it on. Shouldering his pack he stood in the bedroom adjusting it for a few seconds before the crash against the front door.

"Shit, I've got a gun."

He yelled. Not a smart move, firstly because most English people would not believe him and secondly it told whoever was breaking in that he was there. They went mad throwing them selves against the door with abandonment. He retreated down the hall to the doors leading to the second bedroom and the bathroom. He hit the hatch to the loft space and pushed his pack up into it and climbed up himself. Steven dropped the hatch just as the door burst off its hinges and the dresser blew to bits. There was not just one of those things in the house, he looked around the loft.

The hatch jumped, shit he thought. As he turned his head knocked some tiles lose and the morning air rushed in. He smashed out a few more and clambered onto the roof, nearly slipping off the four story building. He crawled, slipped and scuttled along the garden side of the roof. Once he was three houses along three figures emerged from where he did and with no care to falling ran towards his. The first figure slipped only after a few steps and disappeared off the edge, the second halfway to him and the third was on him. He ducked, slipped knocked out the attackers leg. They both slipped to the edge Stevens foot caught on the gutter, his opponents didn't and tipped over the edge. He watched as he fell head first and his head shattered on the brick garden wall. Steven lay back on the roof breathing heavily, his breath forming clouds above his face.

Up and away he thought. Once he had moved a further ten houses along he climbed up to the ridge and walked the rest of the row it was nearly two kilometers and he did not spot any more of the figures in the street. Now he had to get down, there was no fire escape so it was through the roof again. This house had not been converted into flats and was a four story house. It felt strange so he tried to leave as quickly as possible. Taking the stairs he noticed a set of car keys on a side table next to the front door. He took them and opened the door a crack, no one was in the street so he moved out.

As Steven pushed the auto locking tag on the keys a black Jeep Wrangler across the road reassuringly bleeped and he jogged over opening the door and placed his pack inside. He retrieved the AA road atlas of Britain he had also taken from the camping box and sat looking for a route to Southampton from where he currently was. Southampton was the most likely disembarkation point for any sea lift as it was home to one of the largest British naval bases. He knew this because they had made a wrong tun on a road trip once and ended up at the main gate.

Shooting 2
Fighting 2