The Revelations of Earth
(This chapter is in Russian for a sense of realism, it doesn't require you to read it, so it can be skipped)
Russia: 28th December 2009
Moscow: Government Polonium Storage Depot 6

''Дальнейшие успехи делались с подчиненными 12?'' spoke the aging Russian general. In reply the scientist stated, ''Были существенные изменения к его нервной системе, и его сердце больше не не бьется. Но вот - удивительная вещь, он является все еще живым.
Это - breakthrough в медицинской науке!''

The scientist motioned the general to follow him down the darkly lit corridor.
They arrived at a cell and the scientist slid back a small metal sheet covering a window about 6 inches wide. The general hesitated then slowly walked up towards it a peered in. The cell was almost pitch black. ''Я не могу видеть ничто, впускать меня.'' spoke the Russian general in eager anticipation.

''НИКАКИЕ IT НЕ НЕ БЕЗОПАСНЫ!'' the scientist warned firmly. The Russian general stared distastefully at the scientist and returned to peering through the viewpoint. Once or twice he thought he saw something shuffle around. And once he was sure he heard a low moan. A sharp ringing came from a wall mounted phone. The scientist instinctively picked it up. He spoke a few brief words. ''Я необходим в складе 5. Вы хотите остаться здесь в то время как дольше?''

The general nodded. The scientist handed him a bunch of keys. ''Длинный - склад 6 главных дверей.'' He then ran down the corridor to depot 5.

The general waited till he was out of sight. He then raised a short flat key to the rusty lock on the cell door...

Three Months Later:
Great Britain
House of Commons
''I fear for international security here, you must understand!'' A great roar of debate broke out once more. ''Since Russia closed it's borders 2 months ago we have no idea of what it is up to.'' Another roar of defiance broke out. ''SILENCE! And there is the fact that we haven't received any reply from Poland on the trading of beef.''

1 Month Later:
Great Britain
House of Lords
''The E.U. faces an international crisis!'' boomed Gordon Brown his voice filling the ornate halls. ''I am placing Britain in a State Of Emergency and trade with other nations is now of boycott!'' A roar of disparagement broke out once more in the grand hall. It was the last time it ever would. That night parliament were dismissed for the last time.

17 Old Kent Road
Great Britain

John scratched at the stubble on his chin. He walked over to the cupboard and inspected the limited selections of cereals he had. Wheatbix or Corn Flakes. He poured the Corn flakes into a bowl and dragged himself over to the fridge.

''Fiddlesticks,'' he muttered to himself, ''No milk left.'' He grabbed the last apple in the fruit bowl and walked outside he may as well start work early. The world was covered in a thick blanket of a musty, choking fog. He checked his watch. The short hand between 5 and 6 whilst the minute hand crept past the number 8. The quarantine of mainland Europe had caused all kinds of shortages of things. Dairy products, steel, even power was sometimes cut causing enormous blackouts. He opened the door to his taxi and hopped inside. He turned the keys in the ignition and picked up the microphone. "John Klarington signing in," he spoke plainly.

A few seconds passed.

"All right John today you're on-AHHHHHH!" The voice was cut off ending in a scream. "Whats going on!?" shouted John panicking.

"Sorry about that I spilled my coffee" his boss replied over the channel.
John breathed a sigh of relief.

"All right today John you're on free time until one pm."

"Great, I'll see you at the pub later, remember you still owe me a pint."

The channel went silent as John drove out of his driveway and into the morning rush hour of London.

It wasn't long before he saw a figure wave at him from the mist. He immediately swung over to the kerb and wound the window down.
"Right mate, where to?" asked John
"Can you get me to parliament in four minutes?" the man replied, obviously in a rush.
"Aye, hop in mate," John said unlocking the door and winding the window back up.
The man opened the back door and hopped across.
John pulled out of the street and onto the main road again. Every thirty seconds the man was checking his watch and occasionally tugging at his tie vigorously.

"Busy day ahead?" John asked.
"Indeed, I have a meeting with-"
He was interrupted by a loud thud.
"Shit!" shouted John.
"Oh my... You hit someone!!" screamed the man glaring out his window.
John flung himself out the door and ran over to a limp body of a boy, probably only about eleven. His white top was covered in red blood and his eyes where rolled back in his head. John bent down to examine him. His hands trembled. "No pulse..." he muttered quietly under his breath. John laid is hands on the boys chest and gently pressed. He jerked and swung an arm at John's head. John screamed.
Th boy staggered to his feet and sprinted at the man in the suit who had stepped out of the taxi. The man was too shocked to move. The boy leaped and sank his teeth into the mans shoulder. He then collapsed. John grabbed the boy and held him by the shirt against a wall. The fog had almost cleared now. He felt a hand on his back. "It isn't what it looks like. I- AHHHH!!!!" he stammered as he turned his head. The man was baring his teeth and had no visible pupils. "NO!" he screamed letting go of the boy and pushing the man away. They both staggered after him as he ran for his taxi. The sun glared in his eyes but he managed to get in to the taxi. he hit the accelerator before he even closed the door. He looked in his wing mirror and saw the man and boy were slowly shambling after him as he looked back up at the street ahead he noticed that there were more like them shuffling aimlessly about.
He sped on leaving them behind.

He was now sitting in his attic with a knife and all the food he could grab. The phones didn't work, his boss wouldn't reply and he couldn't hear cars outside anymore. The most worrying thing however, were the occasional shotgun blasts. That echoed through ought the night. He didn't mind the screams for some reason. As long as he was here they couldn't hurt him.

After a while to retain his sanity he began to keep a diary.

Day 3
More gunshots today. I have still got half a loaf of bread and some various snacks.

Day 4
Had a game of monopoly and several games of chess to pass time. Went whole day without eating.

Day 5
There have been no more gunshots. I'm starting to get worried of my food levels I only have 2 bags of crisps left and a small can of coke. Also this damn pen in running dry.

Day 6
Writing small to save ink for my pen. I think I will come down tomorrow for food This will be my final entry because of this damn pen. I finished off my food today I think Iit should be safe enough to come down tomorrow.

Two days later John emerged from his attic. He crept down the stairs and into his kitchen. Quickly he dived for a cupboard and withdrew some crackers and a block of cheese he had ever so carefully rationed just over a week ago. Ravenously, he finished them off and then his mind wandered back to the situation at hand. Slowly he got up and crept to the closed curtains. then with a swift movement he drew them back. Outside there was about twenty lifeless faces staring at him wearing vague expressions and bloodied clothes. One let out a loud roaring moan and started shuffling towards him.
"Crap..." whispered John to himself.

John slowly staggered back as the corpses began to amass at his back door. His mind was racing. His first instinct was to retreat back to the attic, but he then realised that he would just be trapped. So instead he snatched his car keys off the counter, grabbed several knives and ran to the front door. His taxi was only ten seconds walking distance from him, however there were a lot of them out there...
...an awful lot...
John got down on his knees and peered through the letterbox the street was littered with about fifty shambling corpses, lifeless expressions embroidered upon their faces.