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The distant tap-tap-tap of gunfire. His heart raced.

His legs stretched out before him on a wooden floor. His entire body ached. He felt like crying. He was confused and disorientated. The strong stink of unwashed bodies filled the air; the musk of humans packed together. He trembled under the blanket. He checked his pockets and realised he had lost his wallet. It contained a photo of Anya.

“Sleeping Beauty’s woken up,” said Ralph. He and Magnus were either side of him. “We thought we’d have to carry you around from now on.”

“You okay, Joel?” Magnus asked, face creased with concern. He had wrapped a blanket around his body.

Joel shivered, wrapped his arms around himself. “Where are we?”

“We’re safe,” said Ralph. “But things are pretty fucked by the sounds of it.”

Joel sat up straight, cleared his throat and looked around, avoiding eye contact with the room’s other occupants. Many were asleep. There seemed to be about a hundred people here. Gathered in various groups or alone. Some families. Lines of people around the walls, some staring into space or at the floor. Some were huddled with blankets over their shoulders. More people were in an adjacent classroom through an open doorway. A few were drinking from plastic cups or bottles of water. Some gnawed slowly on protein bars, chewing moronically like cows doomed for the slaughterhouse. An old woman was trying to roll a cigarette with shaking hands. A man with a severe facial tick was drinking from a bottle of cough medicine. Young and old alike here. A palpable fear lurked amongst them. A miasma of desperation, shock and disbelief. Wide-eyed denial painted upon pale traumatised faces. Sleepers having bad dreams. One man was crying into his hands and muttering a woman’s name. Another man stared at the floor, his left arm in a sling and an unlit cigarette hung from his bottom lip. He had long, black hair tied into a ponytail.

Magnus handed Joel a small bottle of water.

“What’s the time?” Joel downed half of the bottle in one go.

“Nearly six,” said Ralph.

“In the morning? I slept through the night?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened? I remember being in the car leaving the village. And the soldiers…”

Ralph and Magnus exchanged a glance.

Ralph said, “The soldiers almost shot us. You passed out. They bundled us into the back of their truck. They brought us here. The paramedics checked you over; made sure you were okay and not infected. They said it was shock.”

“I feel like shit,” Joel said. He wanted to throw up.

“Join the club, mate. What a stag weekend this has turned out to be…”

Magnus grunted.

“It’s unbelievable,” said Joel. “This can’t be happening.”

“Well, my friend,” said Ralph. “It certainly is happening.”

“The paramedics thought I was infected? Infected with what?”

“Fuck knows,” said Ralph. “One of them said something about a pandemic.”

“An epidemic, not a pandemic,” said Magnus.

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Ralph. “Considering what we saw in Wishford I’d say we’re in the deep shit.”

“Where are we?” asked Joel.

“A rescue centre,” said Magnus. “A primary school in Horsham.”

“Are the people from Wishford here?”

Again, Ralph and Magnus exchanged a brief look.

“No, mate,” said Ralph. “They’re all gone. Or most of them, anyway. The people here are from other places. There are other rescue centres, apparently. We’re in one of them. The police and army have cleared and sealed off this neighbourhood.”

“But from what I heard,” said Magnus, “Horsham’s been affected as well. This is a safe zone.”

“It’s happened here as well?” said Joel.

“There’re armed police outside,” said Ralph. “They’re guarding the gates. This is serious shit, mate.”

“What do you mean, they’re from other places?”

“This has hit the entire country. One of the coppers said it’s a national emergency.”

“Have you managed to contact anyone from home?”

“No” said Magnus. “Our phones still aren’t working. They reckon something atmospheric is affecting them. Debbie is going to kill me.”

Joel took out his mobile and tried to call Anya, but the entire network was dead. Panic flooded his stomach. He wanted to go home, see Anya. Make sure she was safe.

“So it could have happened back home?” Joel said. His face flushed with heat. He wanted to scratch his skin until he drew blood.

Magnus shrugged. “We don’t know. The police told us to stay calm until they restore order.”

Ralph was shaking his head.

“In all honestly, I don’t think they know much either,” Magnus added.

“We’re refugees,” said Magnus. “Everyone here is.”

Jet aircraft screamed low overhead. Joel flinched.

Ralph looked up at the ceiling. “Someone said this is an invasion.”

“An invasion?” said Joel. “By who?”

“By what,” Magnus said.

“Is it terrorists?”

“No one knows,” said Ralph. “But I doubt it.”

“I have to get home to Anya.”

“The police won’t let us leave,” said Magnus. “They said it’s too dangerous out there. The army is fighting in the streets. You heard the gunfire, didn’t you?”

“We could take our chances,” said Ralph.

“We’d die out there,” Magnus said.

“What about Frank?” Joel asked. “Have you heard from him? He could be in here somewhere…”

Magnus shook his head. “We haven’t seen him.”

“We should never have left him,” said Joel. “We abandoned him.”

“We didn’t abandon him,” said Ralph. “He left us.”

“He might still be alive.” There was no conviction in Magnus’ voice.

“He’s dead,” said Joel. “Frank’s dead. I can feel it.”

Neither Ralph nor Magnus replied.

“Have you seen them?” a woman asked, sitting across from them.

They turned to her. She was stroking a small dog on her lap, some sort of terrier licking at her fingers with its small tongue. She looked to be in her fifties. Sharp, keen eyes that reminded Joel of one of his old schoolteachers. Greying hair down to her shoulders. A dark blanket around her body. She was shoeless.

“Excuse me?” said Joel.

“Have you seen them?”

“Seen who?” said Magnus.

“The monsters. Whatever they are.”

“We’ve run into a few of them,” Ralph said.

“You’re lucky to be alive then.”

“We’ve had a few close calls.”

“What happened to you?” Joel asked her.

“Two days ago,” the woman said. “Sunday morning. I was shopping. People started to collapse and convulse. They changed right before my eyes. I had to hide in a clothes shop’s changing room just so I wouldn’t get torn to bits by my best friend. She went crazy, sprouted something like dark growths from her back and stomach. She tore out the throat of a teenage boy. Ate bits of him. She attacked other people. But there were more like her. Poor Francine. They became monsters.”

“Fuck,” said Ralph. “That’s mental.”

“I’m sorry about your friend,” said Joel. “How did you end up here?”

She stroked the dog’s head with long-nailed fingers. “I managed to escape from the shop. People were dying. So much screaming. It’s all a bit foggy now. I got home and Alfie here was going crazy, barking and growling. He knew what was happening, the clever boy. I tried calling my son in London but he didn’t answer his phone. I called the police but the line was busy. Eventually I was picked up by a search and rescue patrol looking for survivors. I barely made it to the truck; there were monsters on my street…some were in the gardens. Me and Alfie were bundled into the lorry. They dropped us off here on Sunday night. We’ve been given food and water, and more people have arrived from the surrounding areas, brought here in buses and vans. People that have been evacuated.”