Free Surviving the Fall: How England Died by Stephen Cross Page A

the hedge. We were on a path, you know, between fields, and it was just there, suddenly. It came for Ed and grabbed him straight away. Ed fought with it, and eventually he got it on the ground and smashed its head with a rock. You have to get them on the head, that’s what people in London were saying. Ed got it. But it had got Ed too.
    “We sort of knew that he was probably going to get the virus, be we thought that if we got help we could fix it. Maybe the doctors knew, if we could get to hospital… We found your place soon after.”
    Angie continued to stare out the window, tears blurring her vision. So much pain, so much loss. How much more? This seemed like just the beginning.

Chapter 6
     
    Mac jogged up to the pub, his clothes stuck to him with sweat, his lungs feeling crushed against his rib cage, and his shins aching every step he took.
    That’s what the easy life does for you, he thought.
    Suddenly there was a huge noise above him. He looked up to see three fighter jets screech across the sky, low and fast.
    He couldn’t help but smile. The air force were in action, which meant someone was fighting this.
    Maybe the army would eventually get all the infected, thought Mac. If they could just stay safe until then.
    That’s it, we can lock down the pub.
    He ran up to the door and knocked softly, nervous looks over his shoulder.
    “Gaz, Gaz, it’s me, Mac, let me in.”
    Nothing.
    “For Pete’s sakes, Gaz, open the bloody door,” he said a little louder.
    He was about to hammer on the door, his temper up, when he realised what the silence could mean… And if the worst had happened, he didn’t want his banging to get his wife coming downstairs to open the door.
    He peered in the window through a gap in the curtains. The table where he had left Johnny and Gaz sitting was empty.
    The door was bolted from the inside, he would have to find another way in.
    He made his way round the back of the car park. Against one of the walls of the pub, sat a large wheelie skip. Thankfully it was mostly empty, so not too heavy, and he was able to shift it with little effort.
    Underneath was the cellar chute.
    He took off the key ring that he’d attached to this belt that morning - a habit forty years in the making. He smiled, Angie always called him a creature of habit, like an old Bear, she said, that never left its cave and did the same things every day.
    He unlocked the cellar chute and eased up the door with one hand, holding the crowbar loosely in the other. His grip was tired, but he didn’t want to be caught by surprise.
    He peered in, nothing but shadow. Gently walking down the stairs, he waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the light.
    There was movement in the corner of the cellar.
    He stiffened and grabbed the crowbar, holding it high, ready to strike.
    “Mac, wait, it’s me, it’s Gaz.”
    Mac sighed. “You bloody idiot. I nearly brained you!” Mac realised that Gaz had been crouched down behind one of the casks. “What are you doing down here? Where’s Johnny?”
    Gaz spoke, through tears. “Sorry Mac, I couldn’t.”
    “Couldn’t what?”
    “I couldn’t do him. Like you said. I couldn’t do him.”
    “You mean he turned?”
    Gaz nodded. “Aye, about ten minutes ago. He sort of passed out, went really pale like. I went to get the fire extinguisher, like you said to, and sat on the other side of the table. He was all sweaty, and his veins were sticking out. I didn’t know if that was funny business or not…”
    “Just tell me what happened son.”
    “He opened his eyes, I thought he was just waking up, but they were all black, like none of the coloured bits. He suddenly went for me across the table - look!”
    Gaz held his arm forward, and Mac could make out a dark scratch across Gaz’s arm.
    “Have I got it now?” The lad’s voice shook, breaking in pitch every few words.
    “Not if he didn’t bite you.” Although Mac didn’t know for sure. He grabbed Gaz by the shoulders,