Surviving The Evacuation (Book 1): London Read Online Free
that was the second wave; all caused by people directly infected by Patient Zero.
Who exactly Patient Zero was I don't know. I don't even know if he was a patient, all Sholto told me of the event itself was that it took place in New York State and that Patient Zero had contaminated twenty eight people. That was the word he used, contaminated.
One of those twenty eight had been chased to the mall. Who exactly she was, where she was trying to get to and who was chasing her, Sholto didn't say. I’m not sure he knew. Of the other twenty seven, they had gone on to infect people from all walks of life, but it was the airline pilots, the tourists, the executives, the sales reps, politicians, and a full panoply of others, all with easy access to air travel, that spread the infection out of the state and out of the US. Some turned at the airports and train stations, others when boarding, some when they were in transit, some not until they had reached their destination.
I told Jen what I knew, but she didn't seem to care. I suppose she's right, what does it matter?
As the outbreak spread it became clear that this wasn't a localised problem, nor even one that would stay on the other side of the Atlantic. That was when the focus of the news shifted. It happened overnight, literally, as the news outlets were all nationalised. They kept their individual tone and format, but they all started towing the official line. The UK was free of infection and, despite what rumours you might have heard, Britain was safe.
Safe, there's a hollow ring to that word now. It was safe only when compared to the rest of the world. Our first major outbreak occurred four days after New York, but it was quickly dealt with and news of it suppressed. The number of daily cases, like the calls to the police about strange noises from an unlit house, or the isolated cases of boats being run aground on the coast, stayed in double digits. Without a mobile phone network, with more and more web-sites failing, the few people who found out the truth had no way to tell anyone else. I wonder, how many people believed the lie and how many didn’t but wanted too?
I'd been unconscious during the shutting of supermarkets and petrol stations, the implementation of The Food Distribution Plan, the press nationalisation, the curfew, martial law, the riots and the shootings that followed. By the time I woke, order had been restored and a defence plan was in place. Everyone was instructed to stay at home and listen to the official announcements. They were told there was no infection reported in the UK. They were told the government was in control.
Yeah, right. Jen was the government and I've never seen her so scared as she was in the hospital.
12:00, 13 th March.
I thought I heard something outside. I was hoping it was another car, but it wasn’t, at least not one close enough that I could see it. It sounded like an engine though and from somewhere close. Maybe I’m just imagining it, hearing a phantom sound because I want that car to arrive. I know it's coming and I don't want to miss it. I can't miss it.
I've got to be ready. My phone's on, there's no signal, but that doesn’t seem to matter. There was no signal when the last message came in. There's only half the battery left, though. That could be a problem. I didn't have it plugged in since the day before yesterday so that means about forty eight hours worth left. I'll turn it off. It's best to be cautious.
I have to keep getting up and moving around. I like to sit here on the bed, next to the window with my back against the wall, that way I can see out and rest my leg at the same time, but every half hour or so the muscles start to cramp up. Maybe it's something to do with the blood flow. I wish I knew. If only I had the internet, not the internet I had over these last few weeks, no, not the one which took twenty minutes to load a page, I mean the proper internet.
Over the last few weeks I've spent
Who exactly Patient Zero was I don't know. I don't even know if he was a patient, all Sholto told me of the event itself was that it took place in New York State and that Patient Zero had contaminated twenty eight people. That was the word he used, contaminated.
One of those twenty eight had been chased to the mall. Who exactly she was, where she was trying to get to and who was chasing her, Sholto didn't say. I’m not sure he knew. Of the other twenty seven, they had gone on to infect people from all walks of life, but it was the airline pilots, the tourists, the executives, the sales reps, politicians, and a full panoply of others, all with easy access to air travel, that spread the infection out of the state and out of the US. Some turned at the airports and train stations, others when boarding, some when they were in transit, some not until they had reached their destination.
I told Jen what I knew, but she didn't seem to care. I suppose she's right, what does it matter?
As the outbreak spread it became clear that this wasn't a localised problem, nor even one that would stay on the other side of the Atlantic. That was when the focus of the news shifted. It happened overnight, literally, as the news outlets were all nationalised. They kept their individual tone and format, but they all started towing the official line. The UK was free of infection and, despite what rumours you might have heard, Britain was safe.
Safe, there's a hollow ring to that word now. It was safe only when compared to the rest of the world. Our first major outbreak occurred four days after New York, but it was quickly dealt with and news of it suppressed. The number of daily cases, like the calls to the police about strange noises from an unlit house, or the isolated cases of boats being run aground on the coast, stayed in double digits. Without a mobile phone network, with more and more web-sites failing, the few people who found out the truth had no way to tell anyone else. I wonder, how many people believed the lie and how many didn’t but wanted too?
I'd been unconscious during the shutting of supermarkets and petrol stations, the implementation of The Food Distribution Plan, the press nationalisation, the curfew, martial law, the riots and the shootings that followed. By the time I woke, order had been restored and a defence plan was in place. Everyone was instructed to stay at home and listen to the official announcements. They were told there was no infection reported in the UK. They were told the government was in control.
Yeah, right. Jen was the government and I've never seen her so scared as she was in the hospital.
12:00, 13 th March.
I thought I heard something outside. I was hoping it was another car, but it wasn’t, at least not one close enough that I could see it. It sounded like an engine though and from somewhere close. Maybe I’m just imagining it, hearing a phantom sound because I want that car to arrive. I know it's coming and I don't want to miss it. I can't miss it.
I've got to be ready. My phone's on, there's no signal, but that doesn’t seem to matter. There was no signal when the last message came in. There's only half the battery left, though. That could be a problem. I didn't have it plugged in since the day before yesterday so that means about forty eight hours worth left. I'll turn it off. It's best to be cautious.
I have to keep getting up and moving around. I like to sit here on the bed, next to the window with my back against the wall, that way I can see out and rest my leg at the same time, but every half hour or so the muscles start to cramp up. Maybe it's something to do with the blood flow. I wish I knew. If only I had the internet, not the internet I had over these last few weeks, no, not the one which took twenty minutes to load a page, I mean the proper internet.
Over the last few weeks I've spent
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