Ben woke with a start, his alarm clock bleeping in a frenzy of "get the fuck up" noise.
Yawning and scrunching his face up, he rolled out of his bed onto the floor and began randomly slapping at the frantically buzzing clock until it stopped. Climbing to his feet, he stumbled around his flat, eyes determined to stay closed despite his efforts. He bumped his way into the hallway and stared in confusion at nothing until his sleep fuddled brain reminded him it was the shower he was searching for. After a good scrub and drying himself off, he got dressed for work; he grinned to himself as he flexed in the mirror like a fool, he wasn't a vain guy, he just thought it was funny to pose like a muppet it was good to start the day with a smile. He stood around 5'8" broad and powerful in build with an unfortunate layer of fat ruining what could be an impressive physique. Well, he had been a desk jockey for 18 months now, so you can't judge him. Slapping a sandwich together and grabbing bits for his lunch into a plastic bag, he then wandered back to the hallway, put on his shoes and left, He stopped about half way down his path to his car, he looked around, "why is it so quiet, what time is it?" he checked his watch, shrugged and ignored the eerie silence as a fluke. Hopping into his Yaris, the radio kicked in with the 8am news with Radio 1's Dominic burn. "..iots in Manchester, London and Liverpool have claimed at least 300 lives, many of those, children. Police spokesmen Edward Carlson has informed us that over 30 police have been confirmed killed, with many more injured" He paused in his drive down the road, determined to hear more, "what the hell had gotten into people today? The credit crunch ain't that bad, maybe it was a response to a terrorist attack". He switched to Radio 2, then 4, the local radio, all said the same things, but no mention of why. As he pulled onto the main road, he noticed that there were almost no other cars on the road or people walking around, "pussies" he thought, "hiding at home hoping to blag a free day off work" then guiltily he debated ringing work and bunking too or going to see his best friend Jimmy, who lived near his work in Tunbridge Wells. "Fuck it, why not", thought Ben, "I deserve it". He would ring work form Jimmys. He slapped in a DragonForce Cd and bombed it down the road, jigging around to the music.
About 5 minutes down the road, coming round a corner he saw a car crash, blood and glass scattered across the road and a man clumsily clubbing a woman to her knees, the mans shirt was covered in blood and open wounds still dribbled blood. "Fuck" he yelled, swerving to pull up near them, He didn't know what was going on but he wouldn't drive by a woman getting beaten up. He left his car in neutral and grabbed the corkscrew he kept in his car in case of..Well...let's face it, violence. He wasn't a thug by any means, but, he could handle himself through years of martial arts and boxing, (Ben was a big man for a reason), "oi, leave her alone you prick" he yelled, "HELP ME", screamed the woman. She looked around his age, early 20's, about 5'4" long ginger hair and a body and face to die for though her beautiful face was marred by blood and terror, " Ben lowered his shoulder and slammed all 16 stone of him into the injured mans back, knocking him flying to the ground several feet away. Ben spun, reached down, and grabbed the girls arm and yanked her roughly behind him. His eyes glued to the now rising man in front of him. "What the fuck? Mate, you okay?" He called. The mans' face was a mess, ribbons of skin hanging down and his left eye completely gone, the other a pus coloured, milky orb. "Aw mate, I'm sorry I pushed you, I'll call an ambulance" he reached into his coat pocket for his phone, "No!, he's dead!, he's fucking dead!" yelled the girl. "What???" yelled Ben, spinning round to face her. What the fuck are you on about? He was attacking you, did you make him crash? Huh? Did you? Who the fuck are you anyway?" the string of questions tinged with anger and fear. "No I saw the crash and I ran over and checked his pulse and it wasn't there, he was dead, I rung for an ambulance the number's busy, I turned round and he was staggering towards me, I went to help him and he started attacking me, fucker tried to bite me; and my names Kate….I think he's from London" she pointed at the Hackney carriage (London taxi)
A loud groan caused them both to look back round. Ben screamed like a girl and launched himself back into Kate. The mans teeth, snapped shut where his neck had been half a second before. Ben swung his left fist into the snarling mans jaw, tendons and sinew snapped, the jaw came lose in a spray of clotted blood. Still the ex taxi driver stumbled towards them. "He's a fucking zombie" he, he ain't got a fucking jaw. The taxi zombie lunged again for Bens hand, which was jerked out of the way swiftly, grabbing the corkscrew from his pocket he punched again, slamming the point into the empty eye socket and grabbing it round the throat with his other hand, twisting and jiggling the corkscrew, he bore the clawing monster to the ground, as its head impacted, it shuddered and lay still. Rolling away from it, he got to his feet, and watched as a sobbing Kate kicked it repeatedly. Ben ripped the blood slicked corkscrew out of the dead zombies eye, grabbed Kates arm, she wouldn't acknowledge him, "look at me" he shouted, fury in his voice. "We have to get out of here, now!" "w-where?" she stammered, shock kicking in. " My flat to pick up some things and check the news, then to my friends flat, it's a lot more secure than mine". They jumped in the car to the sound of a BBC reporter on the radio "oh my god, their dead, all of them DEAD… oh fuck hold the door, no Andy, NOOOOO, arrggghhhhh, the scream, accompanied by snarls and moans, and the sound of flesh and clothing being torn apart, then just the wet noise of chewing and a final moan before static filled their ears. "FUCK!" Yelled Ben, slapping his steering wheel in anger. He'd always hated the idea of zombies.