Autumn - Inferno

1

1DAY SEVENTY-TWO

MONUMENT BASE

TOWER PLACE – 7:00am

In the four weeks since the chaotic day that had brought this group together, the dead had advanced and blocked them in tight. There were thousands upon thousands of them, crammed up against each other and against the barricades that protected the living, and the pressure of their numbers had wedged them into position. Decaying flesh had seeped into wrinkles, folds, tears and open wounds like wet putty.

On the other side of the towering boundary walls, the group had had to shore-up their defences to protect the scrap of land they’d managed to hold onto around the Monument and the Tower of London. Once the perimeter had been sealed, the violence and bloodshed had, thankfully, stopped.

Until today.

The group was now a victim of its own success.

At more than three hundred and fifty strong, they were the biggest group of survivors for many miles, if not in the whole country. Those numbers meant they had relative strength and security but, Christ, that was a lot of mouths to feed. They hadn’t had time to stockpile before locking down; the base had almost fallen as the last eighty or so folks had arrived. And though they’d done what they could to eke out their supplies for as long as possible, they’d known all along that this day was going to come. If it hadn't been today, it would inevitably have been tomorrow.

Having lost substantial swathes of land in those battles a month ago, they were now living on a sliver of space about half a square mile in area, a fraction of the size the bosses had originally envisaged. Claustrophobic and unsanitary, it was little better than the wastelands beyond the walls.

For now, the bulk of the dead were being held back by the barriers to the west and by an elevated and fortified section of railway line stretching from Fenchurch Street to Limehouse to the north. With the Thames to their south, that left only one logical direction in which the group could advance.

More than eighty volunteers gathered on the lawn in front of the Tower Hill Memorial in Trinity Square Gardens. The once well-tended grass was churned up and muddy, the memorial defaced with graffiti – poignantly scrawled outpourings of anger and grief. The volunteers were a motley bunch. Survival these days seemed random, arbitrary; the only thing these folks had in common was that they still had a pulse. They huddled close to each other because of the cold and listened as Dominic Grove addressed them.

‘This is a big day. A monumental day. The work we’re going to start this morning will make life much more comfortable for all of us. It’s going to be hard, there’s no disputing that, and dangerous too, but we all know that nothing we do from hereon in is going to be easy. Today we’re taking our first steps towards carving out a safe future for ourselves.’

He paused, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come.

‘It’s almost a month now since David, Marianne, and the others joined us, and we’ve all benefited from our increased numbers. Until now we’ve been focused on protecting this place and keeping it secure and on getting everyone settled in, but the time’s come to start reclaiming some of what we’ve lost. We’ve already achieved a lot, but there’s much more we need. Today, that work begins in earnest.

‘I know this is a huge ask of all of you, but there really is no alternative. With increased numbers comes an increased need for food, water, clothing, medicines, and space. We’re surrounded by a vast number of resources, and every scrap of it is ours for the taking. We just have to go and get it.

‘Fighting’s not in our nature, and I wish there was another way of doing this, but clearing the dead from Wapping and reclaiming the streets is our only option. We must take a stand against them. We have to forget who they used to be and focus on what they are now and the threat they present. We cannot allow the dead to dictate the way we spend the rest of our lives.

‘Before we go out there today, I want you all to take a moment to think about how strong we are, both individually and collectively. Our ability to coordinate and communicate puts us at a clear advantage over our enemy. Sure, there are many thousands of them and only a few hundred of us, but we have the upper hand. We can do this, I know we can. It’s going to be tough and it’s going to take time, but we’re going to take small steps every day beginning today to take back what’s rightfully ours. Soon, all those small steps will add up to colossal strides.

‘The place where we’re gathered this morning is a monument to some of those who lost their lives in the first and second world wars. Take a moment to remember the sacrifices countless generations made to give us our freedoms. Although our world has changed beyond recognition, and the danger we’re now having to deal with is very different from the threats that anyone before us had to face, but there’s just as much at stake, perhaps more. For though they fought for Human liberty, we battle now for the very survival of our race. And we’re not just doing this for the people who are here with us today, we’re doing it for all those who will come after us. We do this for our children; we do this for our children’s children. It’s no exaggeration to say that groups like ours may be all that’s left of Humanity; ensuring our future is an unparalleled responsibility that all of us here must now share.

‘Our group includes people from all walks of life. We represent many cultures and many beliefs. We have an enormous range of abilities and capabilities, skills both honed and yet undiscovered. Collectively, we represent an inexhaustible store of knowledge and experience, all of which is going to be vital to rebuilding our world from the ashes of what’s been lost.

‘So, I want you to look out for each other today. Like I said, we may have many differences, but there’s one thing that every single one of us has in common... we’re survivors .’

Dominic paused, almost overcome by the gravity of his own words. Sanjay leant across and whispered to David Shires. ‘Bloke’s a f*****g t**t. Do you think he actually believes any of that horseshit?’

David laughed. ‘If he does, he’s the only one.’

If Dominic was disappointed by the reaction of the crowd, he didn’t let it show. ‘I’m going to hand over now to Piotr who will talk us through the detail of this morning’s operation.’

Dominic stood down; Piotr stepped up. The difference in their styles was notable. Where Dominic took his time and waxed lyrical, Piotr didn’t.

‘We secured almost a mile of Cable Street at the beginning of all of this, when we blocked the gaps under the train line.’ He pointed towards the main roads as he spoke. ‘Over there is East Smithfield. It runs parallel with Cable Street and is clear as far as the junction with Vaughan Way, Dock Street, and The Highway. The buildings in the area north of East Smithfield have already been stripped. Today we continue east along The Highway and clear another half mile, as far as Cannon Street Road. North of that is a valuable area that we’ll then focus on clearing.’

Dominic couldn’t help himself butting in. ‘Piotr’s right, it’ll give us access to some prime real estate. There are several tower blocks that we think will be easier to clear out than the lower-level buildings we’re used to, and there’s a lot of green space that we can use for recreation, and, in due course, farming. There’s a school, hundreds of individual residences... it’ll take some time for us to secure the area completely, but the potential rewards make all that effort worthwhile.’

His enthusiasm wasn’t matched by any of the faces looking back at him. Piotr, too, appeared unimpressed and he turned back towards the crowd. ‘Listen up. This is important.’

Everyone was already quiet, but now the group became pin-drop silent.

‘These are the rules. First, every one of you is a fighter, and everybody goes out there with a weapon. Second, you follow instructions, because if any of you go rogue, it puts everyone at risk. Third, you forget that those things out there used to be like us. If they remind you of your mother or your mate or your missus or your kid, or, God help us they are your kid, it still doesn’t matter. They’re not human. They are our enemy. If we don’t destroy them, they will destroy us.’