Free E Virus: The Diary of a Modern Day Girl (The Beginning of the End) by Jessica Ward

separated the airfield from the main road.
    The entrance to the airfield originally had an automatic arm barrier for cars to be let through. By the looks of it, it had been reinforced, now a 20 foot tall steel gate stood in its place.
    We peered out the car, trying to get a closer look. We saw a military 4x4 with a machine gun turret along with some sort of carrier lorry.
    There were no signs of survivors or the military, but we felt confident they were inside.
    We stopped the cars 100 yards down the road. It was clear we wouldn’t be able to gain access through the entrance. There were too many of them outside, even if we did get in, we would end up letting a few of the infected pass through the gates which we knew simply wasn’t an option.
    We turned around as Nick suggested we go down Old Hall Lane instead. As we turned into the road, there was an old church surrounded by graves on our right hand side. There was a blue sign on the corner which read ‘Welcome to Christ Church’. A restaurant I had passed many times stood opposite. Both buildings had an eerie feeling to them. We could not see or hear a single person, so we carried on down the road.
    The further we drove into Old Hall Lane, the narrower the road became. As we pushed forward it became a single lane road. Hedgerows blocked our view on either side as the smooth tarmac disappeared. The road soon turned into an extremely bumpy dirt track.
    Eventually the hedgerows disappeared as the road curved to the left, revealing a warehouse sized barn, made from brick and corrugated metal. There were two openings to the barn, both had green metal doors. The smaller door of the two looked like it had been kicked through revealing part of the frame work within the door. I still couldn’t see any sign of life, it was completely silent.
    We carried on past the farmhouse and various outbuildings. As we passed the farm, fields opened up on our left hand side, spanning for miles. We searched for an opening in the airfield, but it was still all fenced off.
    We drove up to an old rusty gate. Hanging from it was a green sign with yellow writing which read ‘Keep Clear Emergency Exit Number 1’ the gate had a chains wrapping round both gates, no one was getting in through there. We carried on going, still not having any luck. A few yards down the road and we came to Woodford Golf Club. Cars were still parked in the small car park, however still no one could be seen. The whole place looked abandoned.
    We pull ed up next to the golf club . There, across the road, was another rusty gate with the same sign as before ‘Keep Clear Emergency Exit Number 2’
    We got out of the cars for a closer inspection. Although the gate was closed, it was unlocked. Nick started to open the gate as I got back into the car. As soon as we had both cars through the gate and into the airfield Nick secured the gate and jumped back in.
    “Where the hell do we go now?” I asked him looking around at the vast amount of runway laid before me. There were various buildings and hangars leading off in all different directions.
    Nick pointed straight ahead “Let’s try that one, it looks safe enough and it’s far enough away from the entrance that if those things get in, we have time to escape.”
    I agreed and with that, we drove towards the hanger as both cars did a lap of the building, trying to find a way in. It didn’t look like anyone was around, we were about to give up and check the next building when we heard the sound of metal shaking and parting. We drove back round to the front. There were 2 men in military uniforms on either side of the door ushering us in. 
    As we pulled in the light blinded us. The whole of the hanger was painted white, even the floor. Sat in the middle was a large plane. It was the size of a large jet, it was glistening white. It looked as if it had never been used. The side of the plane read Airbus A350 Prestige. The door was open on the front right hand side with steps