Chapter 5 - Fight and Flight

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Heathrow, terminal 5. So many memories... flying to California, Dubai, Italy... and now, the place was grim. A family was laughing at joke, but I couldn't understand. How could they be happy when the whole world was collapsing? But then again, what happened to me didn't happen to them. They were still a family, but I was just an orphan, or what one of my brothers once wrote in a story 'an orp han'. Usually that would have made me laugh but my heart just wasn't in it. The only thing that snapped me out of my stupor was a particularly surprising answer to a usually question when we were dropping off bags.

The woman asked if we had any weapons or sharp materials. I had already handed Becca my knife. But then she replied by picking up the largest of the bags and passing it to the woman. (The driver had already left). The woman opened it and stepped back. Inside were guns. Lots of guns. Big guns and small guns. Knives. Grenades. Becca flipped out an important looking badge and said:

"Rebecca Daly, ARK."


I never really liked flying. It was just something that randomly got to me. I'm fine once we're in the air and the flight is smooth, but I'm not a big fan of take-off and landing, and the turbulence is a bitch. But, like no-one but me says, when the going gets tough, the rich buy a private jet.

About half way through the flight, Becca said: "In about a minute, I'm going to ask you both to cross your eyes. It is seriously important that you both do that straight away when I ask you to, understand?" Her tone was frosty and businesslike.

"To be honest, I don't really understand anything anymore." I replied. But when she looked at me coldly, I nodded to say 'OK', and Saul grunted in agreement and approval.

"Now." stated Becca nearly a minute later. And we all crossed our eyes. Suddenly, the entire cabin went dark. There was muttering. One woman screamed. And then the noise just stopped. No-one was talking. Infect, now I couldn't even see. Even in the dark cabin, I could see slightly, now though, I could see nothing.

Suddenly light ('And the plane.' added my brain) flicked back, and to my absolutes horror, nothing had changed. I blinked, and looked aroun the cabin. Everyone was still there.

I blinked again, and suddenly, no-one was there. Then they all flickered back. "What the hell..."

"They're all gone." informed Becca. "Apocolypse Blackout. It means that all the people who haven't atincipated the zombies or don't know escape the blackout, have turned into zombies, but they've been displaced, and put underground. If you were crossing your eyes by accident, you're either very lucky or very unlucky."

"But when they're there..?"

"They're not, that's just your brain trying to make sense of it."

"Now hang on," started Saul. "What about the pilot? Shouldn't we be crashing around about now if he disappeared?"

"RAF pilot we hired. Annoys me, why we didn't get an American pilot."

"Because it's British Airways?"


And so, we carried on flying, now with only 24 passengers and 4 staff. But the rest didn't notice anything. I guess they're all hired, or they just don't understand. I guess I'm a bit of both.


The plane landed at JFK. We proceeded to collect our luggage from a ghostly baggage reclaim centre. All the remaining staff looked literally mad, as they tried to move pele who weren't there through customs. But eventually, after fighting the many crowds of no-one, we managed to make it out of the airport.

At that moment, I heard something. Something different. A loud calling. A cry. A.. 'brains?'

"Oh you have GOT to be kidding me." But, as I turned around slowly, with the hairs on the back of my neck raised, I saw two of them. Two zombies. They were slow. I suspected type 1 zombies. Oh, I'm sorry, you might not know what a type 1 zombie is. There are about ten different types of zombies but types 1 and 2 are the most common in movies and games. Type 1 zombies are slow and dumb, and yes, they shout 'BRAAIINS!!'. Type 2 zombies are much faster and they mostly grunt, groan or growl.

"Don't.. do.. anything.. don't.. move .. a.. muscle." whispered Becca. Saul fainted. His head hit a fire hydrant on the way down. Ouch. I didn't listen to Becca though, and I saw a hammer on the floor. Forget TV convenience, this is book convenience. A sudden animal rage came over me and I picked up the hammer and ran at the zombies. Before their tiny BRAAIINS could understand what was happening, I hit one of them over the head with the hammer. The other one came at me but I kicked it in the chest and it fell to the ground. I repeatedly whacked the hammer on its skull until its BRAAIINS leaked onto the floor. The first zombie came back for more but I punched a hole through its chest where its heart was. It looked down at the hole, and for a second was human again. 'Why?' was the face she gave me before she fell and died again.

Saul got up. "Hey, guys.. WOAH!! DUUUDE!!!" Hehe. Same old Saul. It was then that I realised I was covered in blood. I tried cleaning myself up a bit but it didn't really work. Note to self - 'bricks don't clean'.

"Liam, WHAT THE HELL WHERE YOU THINKING?!?" shouted Becca.

"I don't know, something just brains over me." I replied.

"Um... what?"

"I said 'something just came over me'."

"Ok.. now this is freaky on a number of levels." cut in Saul. Again - same old Saul.

"I could have sworn you said-" started Becca.

"Said WHAT??" I shouted exasperatedly.

"Um nothing."

"Riiiiiiiiight." Sarcasm. Good for all situations.

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