A few minutes after their entrance through the roadblock into Southampton, Chris very quickly realised that hell had broken loose. Southampton was quite a small area really; it felt closer to a large town than a prominent city dock. Not that it mattered any more. They left the Land Rover after a few empty streets to see what was happening, checking their sides at all times, hearing explosions and gunfire from beyond, every so often a distant blaze of fire and smoke erupting from streets beyond. With all the walkers around, the vehicle had become more like a metal coffin than a means of transporting them anywhere other than their inevitable deaths, and they had already turned off the main route to the port, thinking they could find a safer route.

They were wrong.

There were so many walkers descending upon their next meals as they ran toward the port that it was impossible to tell who was dying, who was dead, and who was undead apart, all melding into a mass of bodies shuffling about or rolling on the tarmac amongst abandoned cars and trashed police roadblocks.

Everything on the streets had become a mass of rotting flesh eaters tearing into living things and spilling blood, the death was so dense that the streets had been more or less repainted red. Screams of the dying and the growls and moans of the undead merged into a horrifying sound that carried for miles and would haunt the rest of Chris' nightmares, if he lived long enough to have them again. While Chris was distracted by his thoughts, a walker had grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, just unable to bite him momentarily. Another second's hesitation and he'd be dead. Chris fumbled for his pistol and put a bullet in the walker's head, looking away as it fell back onot the tarmac. He ran to catch up to the others who had left him behind in the panic, Gage at the front with his rifle out, firing at anything that shambled too close, whilst Mark grabbed a pistol from a walker in blood stained riot armour after putting a bolt in its pale face, straight through the cracked plastic visor.

Lexi was trying to distance herself from the horrors she was witnessing, she'd allow herself to break down later if she needed it, but she needed to be strong for now. Walkers were everywhere. Chris, Mark and Eliza were cutting them down with their pistols if they got too close, but still they were running as dead hands reached out to grab them. Eliza wasn't as good a shot as the others though, having less experience with a gun than anyone else in the group aside from Lexi who still hadn't touched one, and a few walkers still stumbled at them with bullets in their shoulders or chest before Gage's accurate rifle fire put them down. The rest of the group had surrounded Lexi since she didn't have a weapon fo her own beyond a small crowbar Mark had thrown at her a few seconds ago. The rest of the group except for Chris, Lexi realised.

"Fuck! Where's Chris?" Lexi shouted over the gunshots.

The group halted, and stood back to back against the horde.

Chris shot his way through the walkers; he couldn't help but feel he was going to die here with the countless others. The blood was so thick in the air that Chris could taste it in the back of his throat, the smell of decay was overpowering, making Chris dizzy. He fired wildly; he was almost beyond help now. He fell as a walker dragged him to the ground. Chris felt its grip loosen, but didn't hear a gunshot. He saw Gage holding his rifle; the stock was covered in blood. A shot had obviously been too much of a risk. Chris pulled himself up and reloaded his pistol while Gage fired into the walkers that had been following him, then ramming another magazine into his weapon. They began to hear muffled assault rifle shots from further down the road.

"Sounds military." Chris said.

"Be careful. It doesn't sound like they're going for the heads." Gage warned.

"You think they've been ordered to shoot everyone?" Chris asked.

"It's likely, since this disease seems so infectious and there are so many walkers around. They'll probably all be executed themselves when they get back to base. Stories get out and it's too easy to hide a bite." Gage said.

"The others?" Chris asked.

"They're past all this, already waiting at the docks after I sent them ahead. Sounds like something's brewing down there"

The thud of the distant gunfire was like a gentle warning until they got closer, all soldiers had obviously been ordered to wear gas masks in case the disease was airborne, or maybe if they decided nerve gas might be a better tactic. Chris watched as they rounded up survivors at a barricade further down the street and riddled them with bullets mercilessly. They didn't care that these people were innocent anymore, or that some of their victims were children or elderly, or even that they were executing some whilst their families watched and screamed as though they had felt the pain of each bullet. The howls were no longer inhuman, but very human and anguished. Chris and Gage snuck past the soldiers through back alleys. They both very much wanted to do something, but they also knew they would be shot to pieces in a second if they tried.

They eventually reached the dock to see Eliza, Lexi and Mark surrounded by other people, all shoving forward against lines of riot police and soldiers, who savagely beat back any who tried to rush the barricades erected at the waterfront, a few warning shots echoing above their heads. Out on the water itself, all manner of ships; cruise liners, container ships, passenger ferries, all jostled for space, people hurling themselves into the roiling waters to escape the madness on the seafront, insults and projectiles futilely hurled out at the lucky few crammed aboard the ships heading out to sea, a few listing dangerously to one side as they tried to steam away.

Further out loomed a huge aircraft carrier, the HMS Ark Royal, along with a line of naval destroyers while jets and Royal Navy helicopters roared low overhead. As more shots rang out nearby, Chris turned to Gage, who was levelling his rifle at anyone who came too near the group, most people keeping away from the burly soldier.

"Why are we all just standing here?" he said, his pistol held tightly in both hands as he looked out to sea. "With all those monsters only a few streets away. Why don't those soldiers just shoot us all like they did everyone else!" he bellowed, and Gage quickly shushed him as other people, and a few soldiers and armed police, cast worried glances in their direction.

"Because hope is altogether more powerful than fear." The Gurkha whispered softly. "And the hope that one of those ships out there might be their ticket out of this nightmare is much better at keeping order than the prospect of a bullet in the head. Those soldiers up there probably don't have enough ammo anyway…" he added with a solemn frown.

"Hopefully those undead fuckers will stay away this time." Lexi said from next to Chris, nervously watching as a group of people nearby attempted to climb the metal fences by the waterfront and were shot down by panicked riot police, the survivors dragged off by a mob of soldiers, lined up by the edge of the pier and shot in the head one by one, their bodies splashing into the water below.

They all looked out at the water as the executed civilian's bodies floated to the surface. It had been tinted a dark red colour now, and a few undead bobbed on the waves, the soldiers on the pier not even bothering to shoot them now while seagulls pecked and tore at the corpses. Every ship in sight was on fire or boxed in by the other vessels attempting to leave, with the exception of a huge cargo ship, beached by the waterfront, sitting silently near the end of a long pier. The back was open, but the contents of the ship were further back than they could see. They stared at it.

"It's too big to even try and use and those fuckers out there will probably shoot us down or blow us out the water before we could get away." Chris said, guiltily.

"It's not your fault, mate. You didn't know this would be our greeting." Mark replied, placing a hand on his shoulder.

As they looked at the large ship Chris began to notice smaller details, like the way the red paint was flaking off and showing the rusted hull of the ship, or the birds circling above the empty decks. Chris' eyes widened as the cargo emerged. A group of at least several hundred walkers in ragged clothing shambled out of the surf, moaning at the crowds packed on the waterfront. They sounded hungry…