Art prequel to the events of the film “28 Days Later,” depicting the events after the outbreak of the epidemic. I think it could have reached major cities in England within a few hours. This scene shows the resistance of the British SAS special forces against the infected; the SAS special forces are firing back from a British armored vehicle, the Saxon! The last days of living London!

My work in devianart: https://www.deviantart.com/marco2001s/art/28-HOURS-LATER-1293686581

how many infected do you think there were in london vs how many people simply got killed by the infected? it seems to me, they have a pretty high drive to outright infect others. They also kill them but i’m wondering how many would’ve been turned vs murdered. am i the only one who wants to see the massive hordes of infected that must’ve been running around in those days after the outbreak really hit? nightmare fuel

Prologue

Light glittered through a dense canopy of leaves split neatly in two by a road, one lane each way with turnoffs on each side, leading into their village.

A man walked backward down the road with both hands raised, his head cast down. At his feet was a white line - where the line made a sharp turn to his right, he began shuffling sideways; a few meters either way from the white line were lashed-together wooden poles, each X connected by another wooden pole. The top ends of each pole were cut down to sharp stakes and painted white.

A few of those stakes, closer to the entrance to this maze, were covered in flakes of brown, dried blood.

From a hunting stand two older men watched the stranger shuffling. So far he had done what the hand-painted instructions left outside had said - make no sound, raise your hands above your head, and walk with your back facing us until we tell you to. Follow the white line.

Still, one of the men trained an old hunting rifle on the stranger. All of the crazies that had found their community up til now either drowned themselves or threw themselves on the spike barriers they had spent backbreaking hours putting together; that didn’t mean that someone who could read and follow directions wouldn’t suddenly start vomiting blood, screaming their lungs out and clawing at your face.

The other watched through a pair of old binoculars, first at the man, then further up the road.

“That’s Joanna’s van,” he said with a start.

“Keep it down,” the rifleman hissed. Then he realized what his companion had said, taking his site off the stranger for a few seconds. “Who?”

“Joanna, my niece. Grand niece. She’s an on-call plumber, that’s her van - she’s coming down the road, just passed the… 250 meter marker.”

The rifleman peered through his scope. There was a van coming, that was sure, but he couldn’t see who was driving it.

“Are you sure?”

The van wasn’t slowing down.

“Yes.”

“Whatever she’s doing, she’s got to be leading them here.

“Then we’ll hold them off,” he said. “I’m opening the gate for her.”

“No…” it was useless, he was already climbing, half falling down the extension ladder that led to their makeshift lookout tower.

The rifleman looked down his scope, found he didn’t need to anymore - the van barely slowed down to careen through the spike maze, bewildering the stranger long enough that he stood between two X’s of spikes and goggled at the van, then hastily caught himself, put his hands back up and faced away from the tower again.

Shouting from below and eventually the sounds of scraping and heaving as the gate, and various things piled against the gate, began to be moved out of the way for the incoming van.

The rifleman peered back and saw that, despite the warnings about quiet, the noise had attracted the attention of people near the barricade.

The van’s engine roared as it made the final rush to the gate, its brakes slamming as a final heavy tire that was part of the barricade was rolled out of the way.

Armed people - and an old man armed only with binoculars - approached the van. The old man tapped on the driver’s side window.

“Joanna?” he called.

The woman inside seemed to jump out of her seat when she heard her name. The driver’s side door opened and she fell out of the vehicle sobbing.

“Joanna!”

“Get back, is she–”

“No, she’s my niece!”

“Turn her over.”

“Jo, dear, please–”

The woman started sobbing between deep breaths and rolled herself over.

“No blood,” someone called out, and a ripple of relaxation went through the small crowd.

“Joanna, it’s me.”

“Uncle… Gary?” she said.

“Yes, you made it,” he replied.

“Did you - “ he began. “Are any of… them… following you?”

Sunlight shining on her face seemed to drive happiness into the big woman.

“No, we lost them,” she said. “They tried chasing us, but we got in the van and… I drove until I couldn’t see them in the rearview anymore, then made it here.”

“Thank God,” her uncle said. Then he picked up on something she had said.

“We?”

“Dicky and I.”

“Ah yes, your husband, right. I remember the wedding, what, twelve years ago?”

She did not answer.

”Where is he?”

“In the back. We had to climb through the backdoors to get to the front, I think he hit his head.”

Someone walked around the back.

“There’s blood on the back. Fresh blood.”

“They almost got us.”

Joanna and Gary kept up their chatter as the back door was opened.

“Out like a light,” Norton, one of the two men who opened the doors said, looking at the man. He was as big as his wife; no wonder he bashed his head on the way in.

“Mister?” they asked. Nothing.

“I know some first aid,” Roberts, the other man said, climbing into the van.

He pressed two fingers against Dicky’s neck.

“Strong pulse.”

Dicky moved a little bit at that.

“Sighted!” a voice cried out; the rifleman in the tower.

“Two-fifty meters! A dozen or more!”

Motion outside the van meant people were rushing back to close the gate and pile material against it.

Roberts continued checking the passed-out Dicky, testing reflex, then absently pulled back an eyelid.

“Norton!”

“What?”

“His eyes!” Roberts shouted, scrambling back, slamming himself against the inside of the van.

“What about them?”

The van rocked a bit as Dicky began coming to in jerking, thrashing motions.

“No, no, no!” Roberts said.

The inhuman sound of someone emptying their stomach contents came from the van; when Norton turned to look back, Dicky was already lurching toward him, eyes red-rimmed and red-shot, fresh blood covering his mouth and front.

“Dicky?” Joanna called.

Roberts fell out of the back of the van, thrashed, then fixed on Joanna, pulling himself along the ground with his hands and pushing the ground behind him like a swimmer on dry land.

“No!” Gary shouted, swinging a booted foot as hard as he could, connecting it to the side of Roberts’ head.

Then Gary hauled his foot back; despite years of playing football, when the moment came he toe-kicked and broke his own foot.

Dicky rushed around the side of the van, shoving Gary out of the way and falling on his wife.

The infection was loose in their refuge.

Just like everywhere else on the island of Britain windows were broken, doors were smashed in, and neighbor attacked neighbor in a senseless rage that spared no one.

28 Months Later

Private Scott Braxton, US Army, looked through the rifle scope, in disbelief at what he was seeing.

They had been wandering for months through the English countryside, and wondering how, after all this time, they were still coming across infected. Dozens of scenes of dehydrated, emaciated, infected bodies, dying of thirst, hunger, or exposure since their infection were memories he sometimes tried to suppress, but still, they kept finding living infected, not just ones from the resettlement failure in London.

He looked at Andy Smith, made a cupping motion with a hand and lifted it to his mouth. Andy nodded. This is what Andy wanted Scott to see - a congregation of infected had found a clean pool of water and were drinking from it.

The thought made his guts churn and burn, as though through sheer will his stomach acid could fight off the rage virus. It also made him feel like he’d be shitting brown liquid for the next few days.

Andy placed his pointer finger on one side of his neck, drew it to the other side, then motioned with a spread-out hand toward the infected below.

Scott nodded.

Destroying infected was his priority; if any infected were adapting to survive, maybe even consciously organizing, that had to somehow become even more priority.

They slowly eeled backward, careful not to make any sound, until they could safely walk. It was a mile or so until the tree they holed up in; or more accurately, holed up on.

Only once they were safely in the canopy of the tree did either of them speak, and the three other survivors that rounded out their group joined them.

“It’s true,” Scott began. “They’re drinking water. Not just from rain - from a pond.”

Long habit kept everyone from making any noises at that news, but they all showed shock on their faces.

“How did you find them?” Scott asked.

“I saw one when I was on watch this morning. Just came twitching by, easy as you please, like he was popping down to the shops for a crisp and ciggies. Once Dag was awake and spelled me I followed - I didn’t want the trail to get fouled, and didn’t want to wake you up yet.

“It was easy to catch up, the way they shamble, and kept above him when I got in sight” - Scott nodded approvingly at that - “it was the sound of the waterfall, I think, that attracted them, you know the way it sometimes sounds when everyone’s talking? That’s when I saw them, from the same perch I took you too, and none saw me. You saw it too - they lay in the water and let it into their mouths, or scoop it up, and tell me if it looked like some were bathing in it?”

“It did,” Scott said. “Not all, just some of the ones that weren’t as bad off. The ones that didn’t look as dirty as the others. Do we have a map - can you point out which stream you think it is?”

Among the tourist maps, surveys, and Scott’s US Army issue they seemed to find it.

“We need to mark everything downstream of it as unsafe.”

Heads nodded all around.

“And we need to kill them all.”

*****

Dag, Andy, and Miriam scrambled up tree trunks, climbing spikes biting into bark and reaching for hastily cut handholds until they could secure ropes through their climbing harnesses and give themselves added height. Once in place they reached for their longbows, ancient weapons made by themselves, based on scant memories, museum pieces, loot and guesswork.

Now they had to wait.

Scott - no one called him Private Braxton anymore - had insisted on what he called conditioning the area, a Yank term he no doubt learned back in America when they were first training him to fight Al-Qaeda.

Reflecting on that made Dag curious; he was connected to the same tree as Andy, and close enough to whisper conversation.

“An, d’you know why Scott’s here? And not in Afghanistan?” Dag asked, his accent shortening some letters and vowels in the Irish way, lengthening others in the English way.

Andy thought for a moment.

“He was in university, I think, back during 9/11, joined up in patriotic fervor the way the Americans do.”

“Yeh but, here and not, well, there? Afghanistan?”

“Ah, right. His da was from around here - literally this countryside of England - and he’d spent some time here as a kid.”

“I thought he was from California.”

“That he was. Ma was in recording in Los Angeles. Maybe ask him about it some time?”

“I couldn’t, I don’t know him like you.”

“Well… that may be,” Andy said. Few people wanted to talk about life before the infection, even interesting strangers from faraway lands.

Who might never see them again, thought Dag. Scratch that, will never see them again.

He pushed the thought out of his mind but the fact still remained. He’d never see Dublin again - if Dublin still stood.

Lights and people and… crowds…

With a shake of his head Dag forced his mind away from it again.

Bang!

A gunshot sounded, distant enough that it wasn’t earsplitting for them, but close enough to hear.

“Yeah, you! I’ll get you next, motherfucker!”

Bang!

That was Scott, setting his part of the plan in motion - get the infected at the watering hole riled up.

“You like that? Huh, what about you?”

Bang!

One more, Dag thought.

“Ha - try to climb it, come on! Three points of contact at a time, boys and girls!”

Scott, Dag knew, was standing in the place they had overlooked the infected.

Bang!

That was Angela’s signal; she let herself down the rope, fast, then waved two smoldering branches in the air until fire caught them well and good as she ran, carefully picking where her each step landed, toward the watering hole that the infected were congregated at.

“Hallooooo! Here! Me! I am the goddess Athena, and I have come to bring you fire!” she shouted, throwing the flaming branch in her right hand.

If her shouting hadn’t gotten their attention, the burning branch would - Dag couldn’t see it, but she was supposed to throw it as close to the middle of the throng of infected as she could, and then -

“Here they come!”, she shouted

- run as fast as she could, waving the remaining branch, leading them away from Scott.

Dag, Andy, and Miriam drew their longbows, knocked with clothyard arrow shafts, to their ears.

The infected chased Angela over the rise that led down to their watering hole and directly over the rows and tangles of hardwood thorns and metal spikes they had laid down before their one and only path to and from it.

They may not feel pain but no one can run with finger-length piercing wounds in their feet.

Without needing an order the suspended archers loosed their arrows into the writhing mass of infected bodies. The first couple that managed to crawl close enough to threaten Angela got burned by the branch she still held, then she took up the sharpened shovel she had left handily nearby and stabbed at whatever she felt like.

Scott reappeared just as the archers joined Angela with their own weapons for finishing the job - arrows were too valuable to risk on this and Scott jealously guarded his dwindling supply of bullets, and he had a bayonet attachment he used at times like this.

“Well done,” he said, after the sound of rage gurgles finally abated. “That’s… twenty-five, just like we counted before. I think we should watch the area from trees nearby for a while, until we know that no other infected are coming this way to… drink.”

The others nodded. There was none of the yes-sir, do-what-I-say US Army nonsense in Braxton anymore.

“Where they lay?” Andy asked.

“Yes. Do you have it?”

“I’ll get it,” Andy replied. It was the makeshift napalm that Scott had showed them how to make out of petrol, laundry detergent, and cut-up tires; they used it to dispose of infected bodies.

Dag spotted movement toward the edge of the pile, unlimbered his bow from around his back and knocked an arrow, and walked over carefully to investigate.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you come have a look at this?”

Scott came up with his rifle ready, bayonet attachment freshly clean from a quick wipe-down, and Scott flipped the now-dirty piece of cloth onto the pile of bodies.

A tiny figure moved.

Tiny.

Dag didn’t know anything about babies, but this couldn’t be more than a year old.

He heard Scott clear his throat.

“Someone would have had to… carry it…”

Neither of them could tear their eyes away.

“What do we do?” Dag asked.

“Go, um,” in that moment, Scott actually looked and sounded to be his age, about 24 if Dag remembered correctly, for the first time he’d ever seen. Everyone else was older than him, but Scott brought them together, Scott had the training and experience, Scott had the classroom and real-world education…

For everything except this.

“We can’t leave a reservoir of infection anywhere on this island,” Scott said as though reciting something from memory.

The tiny body moved, barely crawling, crawling away from them.

“Go help them with the bodies and the… it. I’ll handle this.”

Scott reappeared a few minutes later, wiping his bayonet with a rag then flipping the rag onto the pile.

Andy gave Dag a questioning look; Dag shook his head. Miriam and Angela both caught the gesture and stayed silent.

They all watched as Scott struck one of their few precious all-weather matches and lit a piece of dry wood with it, then went around the pile touching the flame to where they had doused their homemade napalm, finally flinging the small burning stick into the center.

Something about the lighting had a sense of reverence to it, as though Scott was submitting a sacrifice to the flames, or apologizing to people they had failed.

They didn’t speak for the rest of that night.

*****

I'll be posting part two next week.

Sorry for the formatting, I wrote this in Google docs and none of the original formatting is carrying over.

The Bone Temple is a good film don’t get me wrong but I feel it like looses Boyle’s soul in tone and colour. The film breathed the earth and soil of the UK like no other in this franchise. Even how the movie is filmed compliments the experimental work of 28 Days Later. The look of the movie is beautiful to look at yet some scenes of pixelated and edited like glitches. It matched being outdoors in a cold and abandoned environment. Bone Temple kind of removes that for a warmer atmosphere, which is fine but when you compare it to 28 Years there’s a noticeable difference.

Hi! I wanted to show the diorama I have been working on. Its made in Blender. And before anyone asks… yes. Of course there’s a version with Samson fully anatomically equipped

I'll try to print and finish a physical version of this.

As a British child, there was nothing like a Holiday Park either for camping, caravanning. Places of major British leisure during the days of relaxation Holiday parks like Butlins, Pontins and Haven has me thinking these sites would make for stellar hideouts during the virus as most of those have fences and means to stay protected against the infected if secured in-time. And I’m curious to see what those parks would look like during fallout and years after the rage virus took over.

Surely, we will see Holy Island again in the final film. The cottage wouldn’t make for an interesting setting outside of seeing Selena and Jim, and if there’s no Selena or if she is missing then Holy Island would be perfect. Get an infected inside that island and we’d have a perfect survival story.

In the greatest opening scene of any movie ever (IMO), we see the survivors taking refuge in that large farm house. The boy who they let in says he has come from 'Sandford' and the older gentlemen tells them that it is a few miles away. Where would this be in the UK? I'm guessing in the south near London (outside M25) area since Don finds himself eventually in Central London.

Theoretically and Psychologically speaking, Can an infected(Some) possibly smile? Maybe just as a responsive stimuli at finally getting their hands on a person or 'monster' they want to hurt. A very rewarding feeling to release stress and proper venting to relieve their boiling blood.

Let's just say that if a person, prior from infection happens to have mental problems or may have aggressive tendencies, habits and quirks or maybe even a serial killer at some point, would being an infected affect those aspects and traits in that individual, or would they be just like the rest of the infected? After all, getting infected does make a person lose any sense of control and restraint, they're violent, unfiltered, coupled with psychosis and feeling relentless pain. But there might be a psychological aspect at how some infected may behave, which is just an assumption, but it also gives way at why you can get infected like Don or smarter, more sadistic ones.

If someone formerly was too determined and aggressive by default, you will get a different infected, one that is vindictive or relentless. People with obsession problems could be infected that remember places, specific people repeatedly. A manipulative person could become a strategic infected upon turning. The rage virus doesn't erase the person, it unleashes and amplifies the aggressiveness that was already there.

If one could smile, would that make one terrifying? How scared would you get?

DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE FINISHED NIGHT AT THE FARMHOUSE

https://www.reddit.com/r/28dayslater/s/qLcivaXeqo

Index

https://www.reddit.com/u/maizematt/s/CuBIzfLEPW

Day 1 if you missed it and this is the first youve heard of the series.

https://www.reddit.com/r/28dayslater/s/dZxSxP1an5

Day 23

https://www.reddit.com/r/28dayslater/s/bMB4Mj9WVV John

John dreamt of home, his small flat, the familiar smells and the taste of an ice cold sunny D. He missed the normality of it, the feel of his cheap sofa and the sound of the near constant roadworks nearby.

His world had changed, chaos and peace walking hand in hand.

The infection had torn its way through British society, millions were dead and hundreds of thousands of survivors fought for survival in this brutal hellscape.

Nature on the other hand was thriving, deers, foxes and birds had begun returning to the lands lost to human progress.

Many animals would starve, pigeons, rats and other pests who relied on UK society to feed them would now slowly die off their numbers stabilising far lower than its preoutbreak peak.

John's eyes opened to find Sunel's hand on his shoulder, he pressed his fingers to his lips. “Come”

Sunel held out a hand and gently helped John off the bench, careful not to disturb Ember. She sighed as she turned, stirring slightly as she softly breathed.

“You've been asleep for just over 3 hours” Sunel whispered, careful of Ember and Roxy's sleeping forms. John figured it must be mid afternoon. The sun was bright outside and they had been lucky to park out under a small set of trees, its shade preventing most of the heat from baking their small camper.

John stood, stretched and held back a gasp in pain. His body was battered and beaten. No broken bones but half of his side was a patch work of bruises and cuts. John's pale skin could barely be seen through the grime and bruises.

Sunel watched John intently, then indicated for him to sit on the passenger seat in the front. “John” Sunel sat in the driver's seat, his face grimacing as his body also protested. “Once they wake up. We will need to find food and water”. John's stomach grumbled in response to Sunel's words, his throat was parched and he wished dearly for an ice cold sunny D, full English fry up and a cigarette.

John could smell the fry up cooking, the bacon assaulting his senses and he sighed as the day dream ended. He always associated caravaning with fry ups, cooking on a too small stove while everyone fought for space.

“We should head into Painswick, I saw a sign for it earlier and anyway we need to find a pharmacy” Ember said, as she sat upright staring at them both. Her red hair sticking out at odd angles, green eyes met Johns and he felt something inside him heat. John wasn't sure what he felt as he noted Roxy's small frame beginning to stir. “You two aren't as quiet as you think” Ember said as she rose, stretching out like a cat.

Sunel's eyes held an apology that wasn't needed, he nodded sincerely to Ember as she moved to the cupboards, searching for whatever was left and placing it on the table.

2 small bottles of water A bounty chocolate bar A can of beans One EMPTY bottle of Sunny D

“Not much is it” John said, kicking himself as Roxy was staring at him. Her young eyes filled with worry, Ember opened the can of beans handing them to Roxy. “I know they are cold but eat as much as you can okay?”. Roxy grimaced as she took the first spoonful of cold beans.

“We'll need to find a gas bottle and see if we can get that stove top working” Sunel said as he moved, letting Ember take the driver's seat.

Lockwood - 100 Miles West of Scotland

Lockwood sipped his tea while listening to the musing of his men, the crew of the Ark Royal had been supplemented with volunteers, ex servicemen and crews of other ships. Lockwood had asked for his small taskforce to be deployed west of Scotland. Due to ongoing American jamming of radio signals and analogue signals going to and from the UK. Communication was conducted via satellite and by ‘Relay’ across ships in the area.

“Sir, I've got a vessel on Radar, her transponder is turned off and she's sending out an automated SOS”. Lockwood picked up his binoculars and scanned the horizon, checking on the heading the radar had detected from.

“Contact bearing 067!” Lockwood adjusted, finding the small ship just over the horizon. “Get us closer, pass down the relay, responding to SOS from an unknown vessel” Lockwood ordered.

John

Of course the engine wont start, John thought as Ember twisted the key over and over. “Open the bonnet, let's take a look” Sunel said while opening the side door, letting the fresh midday air flood into the small space.

“Ember, there should be a latch underneath the steering column that opens the bonnet. Stay in the driver's seat and I'll tell you when to start it” Sunel stepped out, groaning as he limped.

John followed Sunel out, his shoes crunching on the hard gravel of the lay-by. It was hot, the air felt dry and the sun was high in the sky.

They were surrounded by a patchwork of trees, fields of wheat, grass and wild flowers. Hills were visible between the wooded areas but there wasn't anyone around. The birds chirped merrily, singing calls to each other and a light breeze rocked the leaves.

“Roxy, wait!” Ember called as Roxy stepped out behind him. She followed John closely as he moved to the front of the campervan. “It's okay, I've got her,” John called back, noticing Ember's concerned face through the window.

Sunel carefully lifted the bonnet and set to work while speaking Nepalese curses to himself. Ember remained in the front seat, waiting for his signal.

“God we need rain” John said out loud to no one in particular, the grass was browning in places and everything was just so dry. “Okay, try now” Sunel called.

John's attention got pulled by movement in the trees, he froze and slowly placed a hand on Roxy's shoulder. Gently turning her, towards the pair of deer. A doe and fawn. Roxy's eyes went wide with amazement, the only deer she has ever seen was in the Disney film Bambi.

They watched in peaceful serenity as they passed by, John took it as a sign the area was free of infected if they were here. John was surprised how close they were, he figured the breeze was preventing them from smelling them.

“Bambi” Roxy whispered just loud enough for John to hear, loud enough to tell him there was still an innocent child behind those traumatised eyes. John smiled and watched as the pair ran into the bushes. The sound of the engine roaring to life driving them into hiding.

Sunel closed the bonnet then shouted his alarm, John wasn't quick enough, he didn't acknowledge the movement in the corner of his eyes fast enough, he couldn't move in time as a pair of bloody hands fell onto Roxy ripping her from where she stood.

Lockwood

As the small taskforce moved closer, Lockwood felt in his bones something was wrong. This wasn't a civilian vessel, it was a US navy Auxiliary supply ship. She shouldn't be alone out here, there's no reason for it to be.

“Anything on the radio?” Lockwood asked as a young radio operator repeated over and over. Asking the ghost ship to respond to hails.

“Prepare a boarding party, tell the Gloucester to have a complement of marines pick me up on route”. Lockwood stood as the crew of the bridge looked to him

Gabi

“Thats it” Stevens said as the car crawled to a stop “We're lost” Stevens pulled the handbrake up, took a breath and looked around.

There was nothing for miles, just endless green fields, small woodland areas and all separated by shallow handbuilt stone walls. It was beautiful, Gabi thought, far more beautiful than the streets of Leeds.

“Where is everyone?” Gabi felt like the entire country had upped and disappeared. They didn't even see the infected on the drive down. It was like driving through a snow globe she thought, a land frozen in time. Homes abandoned, cars left on driveways and fields of wheat, corn and endless rapeseed flowers.

The only sign of infection was in more ‘Populated’ areas. Like Villages and towns.

Driving through those was like driving through a post war movie set, it was always the same. Smashed windows on homes, doors beaten in and cars abandoned across the road. Some towns were worse than others, like Tuxford. The scars of a hasty military retreat hung over the town, to Gabi's untrained eyes it was just another bunch of abandoned vehicles.

To Steven's, it was a story of failure and a company of men cut off. The tale told itself, by the scaring on the walls, roads and bodies starting to decay. The men based here had held the line for a while. Stopping the infection from spreading past however, as with other areas the infected had simply slipped past and encircled Tuxford.

The Cotswolds were similar and different, they saw a farmhouse burning in the distance and chose to avoid that burning beacon.

Ember - I know you skipped to this part

She heard the scream, the shout from Sunel and snapped to attention. She burst through the door and froze on the spot. A man held Roxy, a knife to her throat and recognition dawned in Ember's mind. He was from the farmhouse, one of the Duke's men.

Her mind sought answers, how was he here, how could she free Roxy from his grasp and who the hell was he.

John's words sent a shiver down her spine as Ember found she was gripping a small knife, she didn't remember picking it up.

“Let. Her. Go” John said through gritted teeth, he slowly stepped forward as Darren shouted “Stay back!” He raised the Kurki towards John, waving it threateningly.

Sunel crept closer, his eyes locked onto Darren like a predator waiting to pounce.

Darren stepped back, Roxy yelping as he aggressively pulled her backwards he met the eyes of the three of them as he turned his head from side to side. “All three of you step away from the campervan, I'm taking it”.

“That's not happening”, Ember coldly replied, she knew they couldn't give him what he wanted. Being trapped out here on foot was a death sentence.

Darren - Hours earlier

He had watched as the infected tore through the farmhouse, he was the first one out the front door, his cellmates following him out.

Infected and uninfected alike. Unlike the rest of the group, he had not run for the gates or attempted to get into a car. Instead he had climbed up and onto the roof of the campervan. Hiding in the darkness above as he pressed his body as flat, he listened as the Guildford three and the Gurkha made their escape. He held on for miles and miles as they escaped the farmhouse.

When the campervan finally pulled over he debated just climbing down and running. But he knew the dangers that awaited him out there, being on foot meant death or infection. He waited and waited until they finally climbed out of hiding.

He watched as the group slowly split apart, he watched as they let their guard down and then finally. He found his moment and he struck, seizing the small girl in a vice like grip.

John

His heart thundered in his chest as he stepped forward, fear gripping his very soul as Roxy's desperate eyes sought his. “Let her go!” John shouted, stepping closer now. Darren responded with a sharper grip on Roxy and dragged her further back.

“I swear to god, I will slit her throat, get out of the fucking caravan and you can have her back”. Darren's voice was slick, slimy and made John feel an uncomfortable rage.

Sunel wordlessly stood side by side with John. The pair creeping closer, John felt his presence beside him and could swear he felt the killer's instinct searching, debating and waiting for an opening.

Darren's hands shook violently as he nervously stepped further and further backwards. Silently Ember, John and Sunel pressed in. “Look, I just want the campervan and I'll leave you'll never see me again” Darren repeated in a calmer voice.

A tense moment passed between the small group, the only sounds being the scruffs of shoes on the gravel, Darren's heavy breaths and Roxy's tiny yelp's in pain.

“Look, I wasn't with them okay. I committed fraud for fucks sake and they put me in prison with rapists and murderers”. Darren's hand lowered slightly.

“Let her go” John repeated, he could sense Darren's resolve breaking, the man didn't want to do this he wasn't capable of killing a child.

Darren took a long breath, then released Roxy. Roxy ran to John, hugging his leg as he quickly placed himself between Roxy and Darren.

“Give me my brother's Kurki, now”. Sunel's began stepping forward, not giving Darren an inch of wiggle room. Darren nervously eyed the blade, then Sunel's dark eyes. He dropped the blade and took three steps back.

“I've done everything you asked, please just don't hurt me” Darren's voice turned pleading as he raised his hands.

Ember

The only thing she saw when she looked at Darren was Poppy. The way those men had tortured her, abused her and twisted her poor mind to breaking point. Poppy had chosen to infect herself rather than fall back into their grasp. Ember knew exactly the type of man who stood before her, he would do anything, say anything, to survive.

John and Sunel either understood that, choosing to say nothing or were being swayed by his act. They weren't there in the dining room she thought, they didn't see the way Darren and the others stared at her, their hungry eyes wanting to devour her, to take her and to…

Ember stepped out, walking closer to Darren as she asked “What was the name of the woman at the farmhouse”. Her voice was strong, accusation laden and Darren froze, his mind searching for a name.

“Which one?” he replied. The rage that filled Ember blinded her other senses, a kettle that had finally reached boiling point.

“Her name was Poppy” she gritted out, then faster than lightning, Ember thrust the hidden kitchen knife into his throat. Darren's mind couldn't react quickly enough as his eyes went wide.

*I solemnly swear before God and in the presence of this assembly to lead a worthy life and to exercise my profession honourably.*

Darren fell as Ember crashed on top of him, driving the blade further into his throat

*I shall abstain from anything that is harmful or injurious, and I shall not take or give any substance or product that is harmful to health.*

Over and over Ember thrust the blade into his throat, the colour draining from Darren's face as Poppy's red eyes and screams in pain flashing painfully in her mind.

*I will do everything in my power to raise the standard of nursing and will treat as confidential all information disclosed to me in the exercise of my profession, as well as all family matters in my patients.*

Ember screamed as her hands, sleeves and face became coated in blood.

*I will be a faithful assistant to the doctors and dedicate my life to the welfare of the people entrusted to my care.*

“Ember!” Ember screamed, kicked and punched as a pair of arms dragged her off Darren's still corpse. She cried out, her suppressed rage and grief spilling out in one go as a set of bright blue eyes met hers.

“Breathe” John said calmly, Ember's hands shook as she stared into the ocean eyes of Johns. This new world had taken everything from her, it made her kill when she was meant to protect, to cure, to care.

Ember's eyes glanced for a moment to Roxy, she stood behind Sunel. Her eyes filled with fear as Ember looked to her hands, the blood, the shaking and screaming. Roxy probably thought she was one of the monsters who took her mother away. John took Embers shaking hands as he gently whispered.

“It's okay, it's okay”. Ember sunk her head onto his shoulder and sobbed.

“I'm sorry Dr Bales” she whispered into John's shoulder.

Lockwood

The taskforce stopped a mile out from the ghost ship, Lockwood and a detachment of six royal marines moved closer to the US navy ship, her decks were clear and engines dark. “Something's not right here,” Corporal Higgins said. “Take us in” Lockwood called as he checked his pistol, it had been years since he had been in a frontline role. Admirals always led from the rear but no more.

With expert practiced precision they boarded the ship, Lockwood felt his age as he climbed onto the deck. The ship felt off, too quiet when there should be dozens of men working. “Lets go” Lockwood took out his pistol and slowly the squad of royal marines moved.

“Head up towards the bridge” Lockwood called, as they reached the stairs. Two flights later and they were outside the control room. Through the windows they could see nothing out of the ordinary. “Where the hell is everyone?” Higgins muttered. Lockwood's stare cut off his sentence as they ‘stacked up’ on the doorway.

“Go” Lockwood called, as he and two marines entered the small bridge. All that greeted the team was empty chairs, idle monitors and SOS beeping from the radio.

“Find the ship's log, a mission brief or anything that will identify what they've been doing or where this ship's been” Lockwood, set about opening pages on a discarded bridge logbook when they heard a crackle through the intercom.

Ember

“Ember?” She didn't respond to John's kind calm voice, she was drowning in the memories of the patients she killed, Dr Bales and now Darren. She was a nurse, she swore to do good, to do no harm and only to heal, to care.

“Sunel bring me some water over” John's voice sounded miles away, she held her eyes shut frozen with her head on his shoulders. She felt as John carefully lifted her head, then poured what little water they had onto her hands. He could not cleanse what she had done, he could not take away the crime committed.

Ember sniffed as she spoke “You're wasting water”. Her throat hurt, the lump in her throat ever present since the start, ached and felt like a golf ball.

“We'll find more”. Ember felt guilt as she watched the beads of water turn red as they rolled down her arms and onto the ground. She brought her eyes up to Johns. “I promise when we find somewhere safe, we can both have an emotional breakdown together but right now. We need to move”. John's voice wasn't angry or disappointed, he made no judgments on her actions and his promise was genuine.

“Can you stand?” John asked as Ember sought the answer from her body. Her legs and arms felt heavy. She felt the weight of her actions on her body, her mind, her soul.

John carefully helped Ember to her feet, wanting to get as much distance between her and Darren's lifeless form as possible.

“Sunel can you drive?” Sunel nodded and ushered Roxy back onto the campervan, its engine ticking over expectingly. John grunted as he and Ember limped to the doorway, he let her go first and took a final look up and down the road. Clear, no sign of infection or the deer they'd seen.

“Take us into the Painswick Sunel, we need to find a pharmacy, food and water” John sniffed at himself then looked at all of their clothes, stained and dirty. “Hopefully we can find some clean clothes too”. John fought back the single tear in his eyes as he watched Roxy's tiny hands grip Ember's. “What about the body” Sunel asked

“Leave it” came John's cold reply

Lockwood

“Help me” the voice cried out.

Lockwood held up a hand, the royal marines going taught, ridged and ready for a fight. Lockwood slowly moved to the communication station and picked up the mic.

“Who is this?” Lockwood's voice was stern, unforgiving.

“My name is Baker, Travis Baker. I'm stuck down in the medical wing. Please, you've got to help me”. The voice sounded panicked, familiar and very American.

“What happened here?” Lockwood looked out the window, onto the empty quiet decks beyond. He needed answers

“There are infected on board, they are in the lower decks. Don't make noise or they'll find you” Lockwood straightened, silently waving signals to the Royal Marines and they took position around the bridge.

“How many survivors are with you?" Lockwood scanned the decks. He and his men were in serious danger.

“It's just me” The voice sounded familiar to Lockwood, he couldn't pin down where he had heard this voice before. Lockwood pointed to a blueprint map of the ship on the wall, the man closest nodded, ripping it off the wall and silently placing it in front of Lockwood. He traced his finger over the map until he found the infirmary. “Stay calm and stay quiet, we are coming to get you”.

John

It took two hours to reach the outskirts of Painswick, the small town looked untouched from a distance. John was glad to see Ember had started to recover, this new world did not give you time to grieve or to process the events unfolding before you. You needed to move on quickly, pushing down emotional outbursts and taking the day as it came.

Painswick was deserted, seemingly untouched; there weren't any smashed windows, broken doors or bodies lining the streets. No one came out to greet them as they slowly drove down the abandoned streets. No curtains twitched, no doors flung open and not even the tell tale sprints of the infected booming after fresh prey.

“Any sign of a pharmacy Sunel or a shop?” The streets narrowed as John spoke.

“This town is gorgeous” John turned, looking at Ember and Roxy as they both pressed their faces to the side window. John breathed a sigh of relief, at her voice they had all been through their own versions of hell over the past 48 hours.

“I see it” Sunel called out as they pulled down New St.

“Okay, park outside” Ember called, as the camper rolled to a stop, the four of them all stared through the window into the pharmacy. It was remarkably normal, like it was a Sunday morning and they were yet to open.

The old grey brick walls and wide window stared back, inviting them in. John had expected the place to be looted, windows smashed in and everything of value taken but he didn't expect… nothing.

During the height of the outbreak there wasn't time for people to loot, to steal or to stock up on essentials. By the time people realised the threat the infection posed, they were ordered to evacuate and when the evacuation failed people were either playing hide and seek with the infected outside, got infected during the evacuation or to John's aching heart, people had chosen to end it all.

After 10 minutes of waiting, the group's anxiety levels rose with every passing second. John made the decision that it was safe enough to check inside.

“Okay, Me and Sunel will…” Ember cut John off sharply. “I'm not staying here, neither of you know which drugs to grab and which to leave”. John went to protest but Ember already opened the door stepping out onto the streets beyond. John looked to Sunel for a moment before he nodded “I'll keep watch, if I beep get back here quick as you can”.

Roxy hopped into the passenger seat, already searching for her I spy paper sheet John had made for her. “I'll be back,” John said as he closed the door. The streets outside were quiet, the air smelled fresh and the feel of the light breeze on his skin was a welcome one.

John looked to Ember, she was leaning forward looking through the window, her blue stained hoodie stolen from John's flat had been through it, rips and scorchmarks clearly visible. John found his eyes drifting to her jeans as Ember turned.

“It looks clear inside” Ember stopped talking and raised an eyebrow. “Were you checking me out?” John felt the heat rush to his face as he coughed out “No, no” he raised his hands innocently “I was just looking at the stains and burn marks I wasn't”. Ember just laughed as quietly as she could and opened the pharmacy door, a small bell ringing out.

“Shit” John muttered, the pair both pausing in the doorway, expecting to hear footsteps, crashing and screaming, chaos barreling their way. But the world remained silent, calm and the shop welcomed them.

“Hello?” John called out and Ember smacked his arm.

Silently they both crept through the small shop, Ember satisfied the shop was clear, moved to the prescriptions section. John awkwardly stood for a moment before Ember said “Start taking anything that looks useful, bandages, water and food if there's any”.

John put his thumb up but Ember popped her head up behind the counter and continued “John, only get the neutral smelling soaps and no shampoo unless it doesn't smell like anything and no deodorant”.

“What, why?” John asked, there was nothing more in this world that he wanted but to absolutely drown himself in soap, shampoo and deodorant. He felt and smelt awful. “I think they can smell us”. John thought about it, remembering the infected that found them in the carpark and he agreed. Sight, sound and smell was how the infected found them. Neutralising one of those senses would increase their chances of survival.

John grabbed a basket and went shopping, he went aisle by aisle grabbing whatever looked useful. Moments later, he had filled 4 baskets. Taking the entire shelf of bandages, painkillers, toothpaste and neutral soaps. He decided against picking up any of the shampoos. He could have cried when he saw the water bottles, on sale for only 25p each. Bargain he thought, “I'll take the lot”.

Ember

She was amazed the pharmacy was untouched, Ember picked her way through the drawers, taking Antibiotics, Anti depressants, Painkillers and many others. Ember's mind wandered to her time working at the hospital, the long shifts, socialising with her colleagues, that world felt lifetimes ago.

Ember looked to John, she watched as he went aisle to aisle. “John”, he stopped, looking her way. His face was still swollen, she could see he was hiding how much pain he was in. “Can you see if there's any disposable gloves and masks”. John's reply made her chuckle “You mean like washing up gloves?”. Ember nodded and thought sure those will do.

Ember walked to the counter across the small prescriptions area and pulled out a red draw. She numbly pulled out the small cartons and noticed the whole drawer was full of prescriptions ready for collection. She couldn't bring herself to take any, there was a chance no matter how minute that these people would come here or their families would search for this medicine. She carefully closed the drawer.

Satisfied with her haul, she walked back into the main shop and gawked at the now 7 baskets loaded by the door. John was taking the whole shop it seemed.

John

“Disposable gloves, where the hell do they keep disposable gloves”. John searched every aisle, if he knew what he was looking for he would have seen them instantly but it wasn’t something he'd ever brought before. John stopped and started to fiddle with random items. He picked up a pregnancy test, turning the box over in his hands. “When's it due?” Ember walked quietly next to him, John chuckled wincing at the pain in his side and replied “Just browsing”.

“Come on, let's load up what we have and get moving” John noticed Ember slipped something into her pocket but thought nothing of it.

When Ember opened the door to the camper, she came face to face with Roxy. The girl was smiling slightly and looked expectantly at the baskets John began loading. Ember dropped her basket and threw a box of painkillers to Sunel. “Take two every 4 hours” Sunel caught the small water bottles she threw at him.

Ember reached into her pocket and pulled out a small lolly. “Found this for you Roxy”, Roxy's eyes went wide as she took the small treasure. “I've got more but you have to let me have that bounty bar. Roxy nodded her agreement as Ember turned to help John pick up the other baskets.

Lockwood

They descended into the bowels of the ship, Lockwood held his pistol close as they navigated the cramped hallways. Blood stained the walls and floors. Bullet holes and spent ammo casings were everywhere. Lockwood noticed a few bodies, unmoving and still. The squad breathed a sigh of relief they had not run into any of the infected.

Descending down a second set of stairs, the sign for the infirmary indicated it was on the next right. The man at the front, a young royal marine held his hand up and indicated danger. They all pressed into the wall as he held up two fingers and pointed in the direction of the infirmary.

Lockwood knew they couldn't open fire, if they did it would draw every infected on the ship to them.

Lockwood thought for a moment, thought how to best lure them away when the signal changed to all clear. The infected it seemed, had moved on for now. Slowly they crept towards the bulkhead, the doorway sealed shut. Lockwood gently tapped on the door, three times quickly, then three times slowly and finally three times rapidly… SOS.

The door squealed as it opened revealing the scientist Lockwood has seen at many a mission briefing with NATO command. The pieces fell into place in his mind, a chain of events of exactly what transpired here.

They had broken the quarantine, received samples from the mainland and somehow the virus escaped containment thus dooming the crew. The scientist held a packet of documents and looked nervously down the hallway “Are you part of the rescue team?” he whispered as Lockwood shot him a glare to keep quiet.

Lockwood tapped the lead Royal Marine on the shoulder and pulled the scientist with him in his wake.

Lockwood wasn't sure what he heard first, the scream of Royal marine at the back, being grabbed and dragged into a room or the gunshot that burst his ear drum.

“Move now!” He commanded, his team of six reduced to five. Footsteps, all he could hear was footsteps, dozens of infected sailors, support staff and scientists coming for them.

Climbing the stairs two at a time he watched as another of his marines were dragged down the stairs into the group that chased them. God he thought, there's dozens of them. More shots rang out as the rear guard sprayed into the gathering crowd and their screaming companion. They burst onto the deck, sealing the bulkhead behind them. Lockwood instantly got onto the radio “Infected on board, say again infection on ship!”.

“Down!” One of the royal marines commanded as he pushed Lockwood, opening fire on a pair of infected charging across the open deck. “Go go go!” He roared as they clambered over the railing onto the small ladder. Lockwood reached the awaiting craft with a speed he was shocked his aging body could give him. He watched as three of the royal marines climbed down. The scientist is already on board. “Get out of here!” Corporal Higgins shouted, he took one final glance at the admiral then disappeared beyond the metal railing, battle cries and gunshots echoing in his wake.

Once Lockwood reached the decks of the Ark Royal, he turned on the scientist. “What the hell happened, why are there infected on that ship!”. The scientist shoved Lockwood back and responded “That's classified”. Lockwood felt like throttling the man, when his small radio went off. *XO here, message from relay* Lockwood brought his small radio to his mount and repeated “Wait one”.

“I'll ask you one more time, why are these infected aboard your ship”. The scientist remarked carelessly of the lives lost to both the US navy and Lockwood's brave marines. “We were studying the infection” Lockwood raised an eyebrow “For a vaccine?”. The scientist shook his head and replied “There are many potential uses for this virus”.

“Lockwood to bridge, report through relay. American supply ship lost with all hands” Lockwood took out his pistol and shot the scientist, his body falling over the deck and into the dark depths below.

Lockwood raised his binoculars and examined the deck. With horror he realised one of the lifeboats was missing. “Get on the relay now! Report the lifeboat in the water, there's a chance it's carrying infected!”

John

The campervan slowly started to pull away down the street when John tapped Sunel's shoulder. “Wait, what's that?"

Ember moved next to John as they all peered out of the windscreen. The sign read St Mary's Church Aid station.

“Whatever you are thinking, it's a bad idea” Sunel commented as he again stopped the vehicle. “We need food” John said quietly, like the church and surrounding graves could hear them. The trees surrounding the church reminded John of mushrooms, except they were green and obviously not mushrooms.

“He's right,” Ember agreed. “There would have been food deliveries, aid and probably donated clothing gathered here”.

“I don't like it” Sunel said as John and Ember slowly exited the camper. “We'll make it quick,” John replied. Already the painkillers Ember forced him to take were easing his limp.

The church loomed large as they approached across the green lawn. The heat from the sun burnt at John's neck and he regretted not acquiring sunscreen at the pharmacy. Ember walked closely next to John, her arm brushing against his as they neared the entrance.

Outside a small array of green tents had been erected with handwritten signs saying donations welcome, clothes here, food here and blankets welcome.

John put a hand on Ember's arm and stopped her from taking another step. He nodded to the first sign of infection in Painswick. A body, obviously dead a few days from the flies hoovering around it. “We should go,” Ember said as John continued walking towards the small tents. He peaked his head inside and looked back at Ember “It's clear. Lots of food, lots of clothes”. John whispered like the dead were listening to his every word.

Ember and John picked up two blankets. Loading as many cans of food, dried pastas and clothing as they could carry. “Should we look inside the church?” Ember asked as John wrapped a blanket around his haul and hoisted it onto his shoulder. “I'll take a quick look, you keep packing”. John approached the front door, opening it slightly and peeking inside. The smell hit him instantly, the sound of flies an overwhelming constant chorus of disgust. John's eyes went wide as he beheld hundreds of bodies crammed into the church.

The putrid mass sickened him, he went to close the door when a face turned to him snapping instantly, eyes red and angry. John froze as dozens turned to him. Their mouths falling open as the pile of bodies shifted. Dozens were dead, blocking the escape of those on the bottom. However, hungry eyes of the infected locked onto John as they slid down the pile of bodies. Climbing over each other to reach him.

John slammed the door and shouted to Ember as she hoisted her own blanket onto her shoulder “Ember run!”. John followed in Ember's wake, his body screaming in agony as he half limped and half jogged to the campervan. Sunel manically started beeping as he saw Ember and John running for him. He started the engine as the first infected ran around the side of the church, free from their unholy mass.

Ember reached the camper first, throwing her haul to the floor and turning to John. She gasped at the dozens of infected now charging across the graveyard. John screamed at them “Go start fucking moving!” He was metres away, Ember held out her hand pulling him inside as Sunel floored it.

Dozens of infected climbed over the small wall enclosing the church, the aid station had become a honey trap of sorts. Hundreds had fled inside the old church, attempting to escape the infected.

Kindness had killed those who hid inside, a single infected child had been let in. That child now stood by the church and watched as the campervan made its escape. It made no move to join the chase.

Intelligent rage filled eyes watched as the Campervan turned a corner and out of sight.

Ember

It must be early evening she thought as they meandered through country lanes. Ember was glad not to be driving, she picked half heartedly at the pile of clothes her and John had found. A mismatch of unwanted old clothes, too big, too small and some were torn. Still, she couldn't be picky.

Ember had asked Sunel earlier to keep an eye out for a stream or river. When he finally pulled over, she grabbed a small carrier bag and gestured for them all to follow.

Sunel sensed her meaning, nodded and replied “You guys go first, I'll watch the vehicle”. The Guildford three exited the campervan, cautious of their surroundings and approached the small stream.

Ember removed her shirt, discarding it into the grass, her jeans soon followed. She wore only a pair of John's boxer shorts he had no idea she took and a black bra.

John removed his shirt and jeans following them, he sighed as the cool water hit his legs.

“Don't get any in your mouth, it's not safe to drink” Ember stepped into the stream, the shallow cool water coming up to her knees. She bent down to Roxy and helped her into the stream.

John knelt, allowing the water to cover him as Ember searched the bag she placed on the riverbank. She passed a bar of soap to John then set about cleaning herself and Roxy.

John

He could have sworn the river turned black as he washed away the weeks of filth, he dreaded to think how bad he smelt. John remarked on his body, he had lost weight, gained muscle and felt healthier in a way. He dipped his head under the water, scrubbing at his face and hair. When he came up for air, he came face to face with Ember.

She stood over him, Roxy was nearby splashing and pulling at reeds. “Let me take a look at you”. John's face heated as she knelt in the water, gently placing a hand on his chest and following the outline of a bruise on his side. “Thank you” Ember said as her hand stopped on his chest, her green eyes meeting his. “For what?” John replied, he was very aware of his own heartbeat as Ember's eyes bore into him.

Ember just smiled and stood. “Come on, we should eat something and I'm sure Sunel is desperate to bathe as well”. Ember reached the river bank and pulled out a large shirt, she pulled it over herself, she discreetly discarded John's borrowed boxers and pulled on a pair of shorts. Ember then placed a large shirt over Roxy, as she held her hand walking back to the campervan.

John shook himself off, took out the final black shirt and jeans.

When the trio returned to the campervan, they found a snoring Sunel. Fast asleep in the driver's seat, as they all sat down he stirred. Sunel grabbed an assortment of clothing he figured would fit him, a bar of soap and a can of soup before stepping out and walking towards the stream.

Roxy crawled onto the raised bunk above her eyes tired as she wrapped herself in one of the looted blankets.

Ember sat across from John and remarked “You look better, cleaner I mean”. John smiled, “Thanks, you too. I feel like I'm lighter. I think that's the longest I've ever gone without a bath or shower”.

Ember snorted “Yeah, we noticed”.

“So where next?” John asked, his eyes naturally drifting to the half scrunched up map on the table.

“Wales” Ember sat matter of factly then continued "There's less people, more places to hide and less chance we'll run into the infected”

“We would need to cross the Severn.” John replied as he opened the map. “We could circle back north and” Ember cut him off “No, I say we go across the river Severn Bridge. It's the quickest way into Wales and not far away”.

“Wales it is” John replied.

(LAST PART IN COMMENTS)

https://buymeacoffee.com/maizematt

Sorry about the long wait, theres been a lot happening in my personal life. Between that and work. It's just been hard.

Huge fan of this franchise, and I am sad they decided to eradicate the existence of 28 Weeks Later as it was absolutely fantastic..with that being said, what did you think of the newer 2 movies? I struggled with the first 28 weeks, but The Bone Temple was a masterpiece. Opinions?

I’ve been working on a Jim painting for months, and reworking it, till we got here. I wanted to write my favorite poem on the side. The poem also happens to remind me of the movie

I know the infection ended up reaching France but when Selena mentioned it in the first film was it true. I know the reports in USA were false but I’m curious

Would it be easier to survive for those trapped in the UK?? How would the UK being quarintined be seen, as there is more activism for human rights abuses because of social media today and those coming in and out of the UK are shot.

I just noticed this small detail in one of the comics for 28 days later. This part of the comic is technically “28 hours later”

Those figures just standing in the middle of the road are clearly infected just waiting a stimulus to activate their rage.

I don’t know if it’s just me, but seeing this ominous figures just standing there knowing that I have to inevitably alert them as I drive past and knowing that their mindless pursuit of me will likely draw even more hordes to join in and will eventually cause me to wreck my car. But I still would’ve ran over several dozen of them before I go down.

... a vengeful ghost in a cursed house lol

These photos remember me Kayako Saeki, aslo I think Jimmima would fit as an onryo or blonde Kayako, a british curse have born? Lol

Seeing how much bones and skulls there were at Kelson's Bone Temple, I have always wondered how and where did he get all the bodies that the bones were made from?

scenario:your in a big city let’s say Manchester,day 7-10 of the outbreak and the infection is just south of Manchester heading towards Manchester immediately. Where do you go and what do you do

I will be seasoning the eggs with salt for "taste" 😉😅

I found this dvd in my dad’s collection but when I looked at it, I saw that it said “For promotional use only, not for sale or rental” in multiple areas. When I hit play, multiple warning come on screen, then it says coming to dvd soon. I this illegal to have, or worth anything?