The first I knew was the interruption to the car chase raging across the streets of London.

The flash across the screen turning to words making me sit up from the sofa. 

The warning about the sensitive images made me sit forward and turn the volume even higher.

The beauty in the centre of the screen, the red jacket and skirt which seemed to be all she wore, her features radiating out towards me nearly made me fall to the floor. The background was a blur. The helicopter with its blades rotating and the people running towards it across the roof were the only details not pixilated. Her words weren’t censored, the emotion in her voice raw as she spoke of the children. The scrolling message along the bottom of the screen saved me the need to rewind.

It had happened. It wasn’t April the first. I checked my watch twice just to be sure. A disease raising the dead to their feet. The end of an era, of our civilisation.

I stood, blood draining from my face, but still I punched the air, a wry smile on my lips as I shouted.

“Now who’s laughing bitches,” just as the screen went dark and I ran upstairs to grab my Bug Out Bag,

Season Three. Coming Soon.

Not sure what this is all about, trying reading from the beginning.

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