working their way along other streets, all within a few hundred meters radius of each other. I focus back on the house I was originally watching in Marsh Way as the five soldiers march back out and immediately turn their attention to the building next door, leaving a dazed and bewildered middle-aged couple to timidly close their front door behind them.
There are helicopters flying over the town. Strange. Maybe they're coordinating the movements of the troops on the ground?
The soldiers I've been watching have forced their way into another house now. They reappear in less than a minute, this time dragging someone behind them. I can't make out whether it's a man or a woman but they're kicking and punching and doing all they can to get away. I can see that it's a woman now. She's only half-dressed. They've turned her around and they're marching her towards the nearest truck. She's still fighting. As they push her towards the back of the vehicle she somehow manages to free herself from the soldiers' hold. She starts to run down the road and… and now I can't believe what I'm seeing. One of the soldiers steps forward and raises his rifle. Instead of chasing after her he simply shoots her in the back. Two of them pick up the fallen body and throw it unceremoniously into the back of one of the trucks.
They must finally be flushing out the Haters. Thank God for that.
It's about time. I hope the bastards get everything they deserve.
29
It's a relief knowing that someone finally appears to be taking control of the situation. The soldiers on the streets is the first indication we've had that the authorities are at last doing something to help us. I'm glad, but I'll be happier when they've been and gone from here. I don't say anything to the others. I don't want the kids and Lizzie getting upset again.
My head is spinning. I'm finding it harder and harder to cope with being trapped inside the safe room with the rest of the family. This intense claustrophobia is killing me. We've been sat together for hours and hardly anyone has spoken apart from the children who fight and bicker constantly. I know they can't help it but they're really beginning to piss me off. Lizzie and Harry don't seem bothered by them. Maybe it's just me. Maybe it's the thought of the soldiers outside. I'm getting increasingly anxious sitting here waiting for the inevitable knock at the door.
I use going to the toilet as an excuse to get up and get out of the room. I close the living room door behind me and lean up against it, relieved. The atmosphere in there was oppressive and the air out here is much cooler and fresher. I stumble down the hallway and pause at the front door. Should I go upstairs and check the streets again? What if the army is here already? How would it look if I opened the door and ran head-first into one of those patrols? They might think I was a Hater. Would they give me any chance to explain before aiming their rifles at me?
I use the toilet then traipse towards Ed and Josh's room. I climb up onto Ed's bed like I did yesterday and stare out of the window for a while. I can't see anything. If I ignore the bodies then everything looks quiet, still and relatively normal out there. It's deceptive. Under the surface the whole world is tearing itself apart.
My head hurts. I'm tired of thinking constantly about everything that's happening. I just want to switch off for a while.
I roll over onto my back, close my eyes and wait for the knock at the door.
30
I hear movement inside the flat, away from the safe room. Don't know how long I've been lying here on my own. Must have fallen asleep. I feel sick. I need to get a drink. I sit up, swing my legs out over the side of the bunk and climb down. My body aches as I stretch and stumble down the hallway.
Someone's in the kitchen. I move closer and see through the open door that it's Harry. He's standing at the sink with his back to me, making a drink or washing up or something. I take a step through the door and into the room with him and then stop. Don't know why. Something's not right. I don't want to go any closer. I can taste something in the air and it makes me feel uneasy. No, it's more than that, it makes me feel unsafe. Harry stops what he's doing. Does he know I'm here? For what feels like forever neither of us moves. Then he slowly turns around. Is he…?
Jesus Christ. I stare deep into the old man's eyes and I am frozen to the spot with fear. Can this be the same man? He glares back at me with cold, steely eyes filled with an inexplicable hate and disgust. I can sense his revulsion of me coming off him like a stench and I know that for some inexplicable but undeniable reason he wants me dead. He wants to destroy me. My legs become weak with nerves as I realise that the hate has finally arrived in my home.
Harry moves suddenly and I react at speed. He takes just a single step forward but it's enough and I know that my life is in danger unless I act now. An overwhelming instinctive desire for self-preservation takes over as I move away from him. I look over to my right. On the worktop is our wooden knife-block. I grab the black-handled bread knife and pull it from the block like I'm unsheathing a sword. In a single movement I charge towards Harry and plunge it deep into his flesh, just above his waist. I put my other arm around him and pull him closer to me, forcing the blade deeper and deeper into his gut, twisting it round as I push it forward. I feel its serrated edge slice through his skin and cut through muscles, veins and arteries and I shove it deeper into him until the entire length of the knife has disappeared. I feel a sudden flow of hot blood as it gushes out over my hand and I let go of the knife and push Harry away. He trips back. His legs buckle beneath him and he collapses to the floor, smacking the back of his head against the oven door as he falls. I stand over him. He's still breathing but he won't last long now. I have to be sure that he's dead.
There's a scream from the doorway - a shrill, ear-piercing yell - and I turn around and see Lizzie and the children. She looks at me with the same cold expression as her father and I sense the hate again. I pull the knife out from the dying man's gut and lunge towards her, knowing that she has to die too. She backs away, dragging the children out of the room with her. Edward and Josh stare angrily at me with as much hate as their mother.
'Daddy!' Ellis screams. I look deep into my little girl's face and I know instantly that she's not like the others. She's like me. She hasn't changed. I run around the edge of the kitchen table and reach out for her but I'm too late. Her mother has already grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and has pulled her out of reach. Her tiny, tear-streaked face is filled with fear and shock and her eyes bulge wide as Liz yanks on her clothing, hauling her away from me. Ed glares at me. Even Josh despises me. My sons despise me and I know that I have to destroy them too.
I hurl myself towards Lizzie again, knowing that I have to kill her before she can hurt me and before she can harm Ellis. She shouts at the children to move and they run down the hallway towards the living room. Edward pulls Josh's pushchair across the hall and I trip over it, ending up on my hands and knees. Before I can get up and get to the living room they slam the door shut. I hear the bolt click across.
What the hell do I do now? How did this happen? How could my family turn against me so quickly? I have to forget about them and get to Ellis. She hasn't changed and I know that she needs me. I pick myself up and run at the door. I smash my shoulder into it but it doesn't move. I run back and charge it again and again and, the fifth time I hit it, I feel the bolt give way. I try to force the door open but it only moves a couple of inches. They've pushed furniture against it to stop me from getting inside. Why are they doing this to me?
I hammer my fists against the door.
'Ellis,' I shout. 'Ellis!'
I can hear her. She's trapped in there. I can hear her screaming back at me. She's like me, not them, and she needs to be with me. She's not safe in there. I'm desperate. I can't leave her. I throw myself at the door again and the force of the impact shakes my whole body to the core.
'Ellis!' I yell again. I can still just about hear her muffled reply.
There has to be another way to get to her. The window. I'll get in through the living room window. I turn and run back down the hallway, past the body in the kitchen and out into the lobby. I push the front door open and burst out into the cold, rain-soaked world outside. Now that I'm out in the open I'm aware of noise all around me. I can hear the helicopters, the military trucks, gunshots and the sounds of people like me fighting to survive. It's like being in the middle of a war-zone. But this isn't the noise of one war being fought, it's hundreds of separate
