Chapter 2

Wednesday, November 3, 2027, Clerkenwell

The official death toll was at 13.4 million for the UK and 1.5 billion globally but likely much higher. Alex finally died. The electric grid was still functioning, so Dale managed to print out a QR code for him. “I wonder if anyone he knows is still around to find out” he thought as he did his civic duty and dragged the body on the road. He wondered how many people were still alive in his block.

Emily had gotten worse but still texted Dale. He had a key to her flat and promised to check on her if she went silent.

On the news they reported King Charles had died, making William king. It was unclear how long that would last, and they weren’t releasing much news on the matter. “At least they won’t be collecting him like an old Christmas tree.” he thought.

The police seemed to have given up on order with most big cities turning into mostly lawless zones. The only thing that went without interruption was the collection of bodies. Even the people who would stoop so low as to attack an ambulance saw the utility in having the dead bodies collected.

There wasn’t much to do at work, but he logged on anyways to see who was still around. Despite her precautions Sharon hadn’t managed to evade the disease either and only about a fifth of people were even logged on anymore.

His phone rang. Emily was calling.

“I’m so scared. I don’t know what will happen.” She was crying. “I feel so bad”.

Dale tried to reassure her but didn’t know how.

When he hung up, he received an email informing him that his parents had died. He felt very numb that evening.

Friday November 5, 2027, Clerkenwell

The official death toll was now at 35 million for the UK and estimated at 5bn globally and counting. Emily had been radio-silent for almost 12 hours.

Meanwhile, Dale seemed to be feeling better. He decided to venture out to keep his promise to his girlfriend. With both his flatmates dead he wasn’t going to get any more exposed than he already had been. The only issue was how safe it was going to be. All the deaths seemed to have put a damper on things, at least it was much quieter where he lived.

The tube wasn’t running anymore, and the roads were deserted. Boris bikes weren’t working anymore so he decided to jog. He could use the exercise. Bodies lined the road for collection, but it wasn’t clear if there was anyone around to collect them anymore.

He decided to skirt around the main shopping streets which would be most interesting to troublemakers. He kept up a rapid pace, hearing commotion from time to time and seeing occasional people around. They were at most in groups of two. He kept his pace, and they didn’t bother him. A fair amount of looting had already happened. How many of them had survived to enjoy their spoils was another question.

When he reached Emily’s flat he felt the weight of anticipation. It was a bit of an anticlimax. As expected, Emily was dead. He was sad because he had really liked her. He unlocked her phone with her thumbprint and sent a message to everyone in her contacts. He sent around his own number as well in case anyone was still around and wanted to get in touch.

Getting the QR code ready, he dragged her onto the road. There wasn’t anything useful in the flat except for a bit of food and loo roll but he had plenty of that. At the top of the stairs, he spotted a bicycle.

“I wonder if the owner is still around?” he thought.

Not wanting to steal it from someone still alive he proceeded to knock at every door. There were five other flats in the house. Three of the doors were unlocked. Dale went to check them out and the occupants were all dead. There was not much of use though he did find a toolchest which he thought might come in handy. He put a screwdriver, electric drill, hammer and chisel in a backpack he found. He didn’t know who the people were but not having much else to do dragged them down onto the road, hoping they would be collected.

As he left Emily’s house, he decided to explore a bit and see if he could pick up anything useful. Regents Road and Oxford Street weren’t far and if things continued as they were he’d more than just loo roll.

As he cycled towards Regent’s Road, he saw the occasional person, but they didn’t pay them much attention. The sportswear and clothing shops had been looted. Coming down a side street near Oxford Circus he finally spotted what he was looking for, a cycle shop. It was closed but luckily It didn’t have any shutters. He got out the hammer and chiselled out the lock which went surprisingly easy. Once inside an alarm went off. The police or what was left of them wouldn’t bother checking something like this out, so he wasn’t too worried, though the sound was annoying. He quickly found what he was looking for: a cargo bike. Not very glamorous but quite useful when you might not be able to rely on cars or electricity. He loaded up on supplies to repair the bike if the need arose plus plenty of high-powered lights. He wrote a receipt and left his phone number in case things would recover. It sure didn’t look that way though.

That done, he cycled on to his next destination, an outdoor shop. There were plenty around, but he was looking for quality. He remembered seeing a cluster of them near Covent Garden in the past and decided to check them out. As he was cycling around, he saw more stores that had been broken into and more people. When he reached the shops on Southampton Street, the windows had already been smashed in. There was still a decent selection and with winter around the corner, he loaded up on base layers, warm coats, wet weather gear, a tent and several sleeping bags both for different seasons so he could change them. He also picked up a large sturdy trekking backpack. He didn’t know why he picked up the tent since there would be so many empty houses but did so anyway. He found a camping stove, but there were only ten propane canisters. He loaded it all up, squeezed in a few energy bars, put a tarp on it and strapped it down. He wrote another receipt, mainly for his conscience.

As he cycled home, he thought about what he wanted to do next. Society hadn’t fully collapsed yet, but it sure looked that way and he needed to be prepared. He started hatching a plan.

Before going to bed, he got a message from Allegra.

“So sad about Emily. Glad you’re hanging in. Keep safe. xx A”

“Same! Keep in touch and let me know if you need help. xx D”

Saturday, Nov 6, 2027, Clerkenwell

The electric grid was still running. Dale logged in for work. There wasn’t much of a point in it, but he was curious who was still around. He suspected if this all did blow over in some way there might be less use for spreadsheet jockeys at banks.

Maybe he could figure out how many people were still alive though. He pulled up an old script that accessed firm directory information that he used to check for movers and leavers. All the machines were rebooted over the weekend. If someone was logged in that meant they had done so in the last week. He tweaked the script to pull login info, added the location, title and department and ran it. It didn’t look good. His firm had 58,315 employees of those only 6,261 had logged in. That was almost 90 per cent of the firm. Of course, some of those might only be ill or otherwise out, but still a big number. It looked like all regions had been hit equally hard.

There wasn’t much on TV and only the BBC was still broadcasting but only with a static image and voice. The death toll in the UK was now estimated at 50 million and counting while global estimates were at 7 billion. There were concerns about keeping the power on and the water running. The message was to stay and place and not panic but from what he could tell a lot of people had made a dash for the countryside. He suspected the people who stayed behind in London would be people with fewer ties to outside. London had already been 80% non-English, which must have risen substantially.

London itself was out of control. Dale felt like he was in the eye of the storm. The city was mostly offices and commuters which meant there weren’t that many potential troublemakers. They were more concentrated slightly further out.

Sunday, Nov 7, 2027, Clerkenwell

The news had ceased broadcasting and yesterday’s bodies hadn’t been collected. Dale decided to check in on his neighbours. There were forty flats in his block, a converted century-old office building. He worked his way from the sixth floor to the first. The ground floor had been converted to retail but was empty. He started on the first floor. No one answered at any of the eight doors when he knocked. They were probably all dead already he thought, got out his chisel and popped the locks. They weren’t very good. Six of the flats were empty and there were two bodies each in the other two. Dale pulled them on the street, hoping there would be another collection. There wasn’t too much of use except for some food and he could always come back to get that. The second floor was similar except that four of the flats had dead people in them. He searched the flats but didn’t find anything except for some food.

He wasn’t expecting much when he did the same on the third floor. He found three empty flats, one with a body. He knocked at flat 21 and didn’t get a response so got out his hammer and chisel. He hit the lock and heard a shout.

“Don’t break in. There’s nothing here!” he heard a female voice.

“I’m so sorry, I was checking for dead people so they wouldn’t foul up the house,” Dale responded.

“Well, I’m not dead yet!” came the response.

“If you want to talk to someone, I’m at 33. I seem to have gotten over it and it’s getting a bit lonely,” he told her.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

He checked out the rest of the flats, clearing out another eight bodies with little of use to be found.

That evening a large dump truck came down the road followed by a backhoe loader for loading the bodies. No one bothered scanning QR codes, but he was impressed they were still at it.

Social media was getting less busy, but it sounded quite dire. He texted Tom and was happy to get a response. Allegra also still seemed to be hanging in.

Monday, Nov 8, 2027, Clerkenwell

Dale decided that he couldn’t stay locked up forever and it was better to seize the initiative than have it seized from you. His first concern was his immediate safety. This pandemic had not brought out the best in people and he was on his own. He decided to check out the houses in his immediate vicinity/ Most of the buildings around him were offices or retail with a scattering of residential. The first house he broke into had ten flats and four bodies he dutifully dragged to the side of the road. The second one was similar except there were only two bodies. The third seemed similar until he knocked at flat seven and got a response.

“Who’s there?” he heard a young voice.

“I’m Dale. I’m trying to get through this mess and was helping clear out bodies.” Dale responded. “Are you ok?”

There was a pause

“Not really.” came the response.

“Do you want to chat?” Dale asked.

They continued chatting through the door. Jake had been with his dad when the pandemic struck and ended up sheltering. His dad was long dead, and he hadn’t ventured out at all since pulling him onto the street. He was starting to run low on food.

“Do you want to help make a dent in this mess and grab some food after?” Dale offered.

After some hesitation, the door opened.

“I guess I can’t stay here forever,” he said.

Dale and Jake cleared out the rest of the building and then moved on to the next. They managed to clear out eight more buildings, dragging out 28 more bodies. Six of the flats had people in them who were either sick or didn’t want to come out. They made a note to check back on them in the future. When they were done Jake followed Dale to his flat where they made a quick dinner. There was still electricity and water but at the rate things were going that might not last.

Tuesday, Nov 9, 2027, Clerkenwell

The electricity started failing. They had power for some of the day but were getting worried about how to cook their food. Dale had managed to secure the camping stove but that wouldn’t last forever and wasn’t great for indoor use. They didn’t have a barbeque and anyway the City wasn’t exactly a place to collect firewood. They checked on flat 21 and the flats in the other buildings that they knew had people in them. Two of them had died and they cleared them out. The others wanted to stay put. They decided to go exploring. Jake hopped onto the cargo hold for the bike and they went to search for a second bike. It didn’t take long. This time they headed straight for a bike shop on Farringdon Road and got a high-end road bike for Jake.

“Crazy what kind of money people spend on these” Dale mused. “This used to be Lycra central.”

“I wouldn’t spend 8,000 quid on a bike like this even if I had the money, but it is amazing how light it is,” Jake replied.

Next, they needed to find a way to defend themselves in case any more unsavoury types survived this mess or people just reverted to a more violent type without civilization constraining them. Dale had found himself breaking into dozens of flats and stealing things from shops, so who knew what others were doing? Most weapons were banned in the country and not even the police were armed except for specialist officers. The controls were so strict that even the Olympic pistol shooting team had to train abroad.

That meant their options were something legal but likely not very useful, something improvised, or somehow locating some of the few weapons in the country.

Dale had read that heat spray could be as effective as mace. They easily found plenty in the nearest Boots on Fleet Street. It was still well stocked, having previously only been used by office workers and plenty far away from anyone that might take an interest. While they were at it, they stocked up on first aid supplies. London had been plagued with knife crime and a knife might be useful though as the saying goes “everyone loses in a knife fight” so it wasn’t a top priority.

They decided to check out the Royal Courts of Justice. They were shuttered and access barred. The same went for the Old Bailey. Any weapons there would have been with police officers, and they wouldn’t have abandoned them, so they probably hadn’t missed anything. The roads were surprisingly empty. They were racking their brains when Dale had a thought.

“Let’s go west. There might be a place posh people buy their hunting gear.”

He didn’t quite know where they might be successful, but they jumped on their bikes and cycled down Fleet Street to Strand. As they were getting closer to Covent Garden Jake signalled to stop.