The End of Days

By Terence EDW Brumpton

Zentex Pharmaceuticals is the leading drugs research company in the United Kingdom working on a wonder drug. A drug to cure illnesses, but it doesn't. Instead, it kills the host before reanimating them back to life. Back with one causeto feast on the flesh of the living. When the British government hears about the drug, they quickly decide to continue research into the drug, but not for use in medicine but as a biological weapon. Unknown to the government, an animal rights activist is planning to attack the lab and soon release a plague of the walking dead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: May 11, 2015
• ISBN: 9781493193219

Terence EDW Brumpton

Terence Brumpton was born in Lincoln, England, in 1988. After finding the joy of reading, he decided to try writing for himself. With his love for horror films, horror games, and the paranormal, it was an easy decision what would be the genre of his writings.

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Copyright © 2015 by Terence EDW Brumpton.

ISBN:       Softcover       978-1-4931-9322-6

       eBook       978-1-4931-9321-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/28/2015

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

PROLOGUE

Abstract of letter from Zentex pharmaceutical, President Randolph Hopkins to UK Prime Minister Patrick Cornwell.

Dear Prime Minister,

All tests on the drug Zentium have come back inconclusive. The drug fails to reanimate dead cells, instead it kills the host, before reanimating the corpse with only basic needs and brain functions. As from now all research on the drug will stop, as no use for this as a drug can be thought of.

More details in the attached files.

Yours Sincerely,

Randolph Hopkins.

Abstract of letter from UK Prime Minster to Randolph Hopkins.

Dear Randolph Hopkins,

In reply to your previous letter, the government has decided that research on the drug Zentium will go on. As it may have little use as a drug I, in the interest of the safety of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, feel it is in our best interest to research it’s possible use as a biological weapon.

Research and development will carry on, under the supervision of the MOD, as funded by the UK government. All developments will be reported to me, and all research be classified top secret under the United Kingdom official Secrets Act, as included for all who work to sign.

No files or tests subjects regarding Zentium should leave your premises, unless cleared by The MOD officer in charge, or me personally. Any information released by individuals will be punished as treason with imprisonment.

Yours Sincerely,

Patrick Cornwell,

Prime Minster of The United Kingdom.

CHAPTER 1

Randolph Hopkins sits worrying in his office, a large room with red carpets and white clean walls, with few pictures hanging on them. His desk is tidy, with only a computer and a neat pile of files. In his hand he holds the letter the Prime Minster sent in response. He has seen first hand the horrors the drug Zentium does to the living, and his government wishes to use that as a weapon. At sixty-five, Randolph is a man who seen many changes in the world over the years, some medical wonders from his own company Zentex, which made him proud. But this will not be one of them, Zentium in his own eyes is the work of the devil. A drug which slowly and painfully kills it’s host before bringing them back to life with no emotions, no control. Only the needs and desire to feed on the flesh of the living. The drug though has only been tested on animals, the effects on humans are unknown. But what is known from the years of research is that one bite, one exchange of bodily fluids from the host, the victim can change in a matter of hours. First dropping down dead, to only come back alive in matter of minutes.

Scans of the brains of the hosts show that there is little in the brain left alive, only the part controlling the very basics of needs works. The need to feed, more worryingly on the living. Once when a infected rat escaped, the scientist found out the hard way. The rat went straight for the the scientists, only dying when it head was brutally stamped on until it was nothing but a bloody mess. All tests showed that the host could live until it’s body decayed to nothing, with the ability to survive in conditions that if living, they would have no chance of surviving. He personally watched as scientists set fire, drowned, buried alive animals which all survived. The only way to kill the test subjects proved to be to destroy the only living part of them, the brain.

Randolph sighs to himself, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands, wondering what he’s got himself into. Zentium was meant to save lives, not do what he considers evil. But he knows there is nothing he can do about it, the government has given their orders and there is nothing he can do to stop it. Even if he said no he knows his research would be seized, and another company would get the contract to research Zentium. The thought crosses his mind to destroy every scrape of evidence of it, but what then? What would the government do to him? What about his family, his business, his workers? No he thinks to himself, he will have to do it and just hope that the drug is never realised into the world.

With a shaky hands he pours himself a large glass of scotch whisky from the bottle he keeps hidden in his desk draw, saved for stressful times like this. He puts the glass to his lips, his nose full of the smell of the strong spirit, before he knocks it back in one, and quickly signs his name on the Official Secret Act sat in front of him. His head immediately filled with guilt for the suffering it may cause in the future.

A knock on the door makes the old man jump, before he quickly hides the glass and whisky back in the desk draw. The door quickly opens, before a young man with neatly cut blonde hair and slimly built, dressed in a black skinny fit suit steps into the office.

Sir the board is waiting for you. Want me to tell them you will be delayed sir? The young man happily asks, worried by how tired and old his boss is looking. His aged faced looking more aged and tired than he has ever seen him.

Thank you Daniel, no there will be no need, I will be right there. The old man replies, trying to sound more cheerful and professional than he really feels.

Sir if you don’t mind me asking, are you feeling alright?

The old man cracks a fake smile before answering, Don’t be worried Daniel I am fine. I just have something on my mind that is all. But I do need you to sign something if you would. Don’t worry if you don’t want to, you will still have a job. It would just mean I would need someone else to handle the paperwork for this particular matter.

May I ask what it is about sir, before I sign? The young man replies.

Randolph Hopkin sighs, before picking up a file and sliding it over the desk to the side closest to the young man.I’m afraid Daniel I can’t tell you much, it regards the experiments and Zentium. Seen as you handle my paper work, you will need to sign this to do so. The young man walks happily over to the desk and opens the file.

Randolph Hopkin observes as his secretaries face, change from his upbeat happy expression to that of confusion, as he looks down on the Official Secrets Act from the United Kingdom government.

Sir I don’t understand, why would I need to sign this?

The government is taking over the research on Zentium. Our company is to carry out the research under the supervision of the MOD. That is all I can tell you without you signing that.

Before Randolph has time to say anything else on the matter, Daniel signs his name on the contract and closes the file, placing the pen neatly on the top.Sir you helped me when I needed you like a father, so I will not turn my back on you now. Daniel loyaly says.

To the joy of his secretary the old man proudly smiles, for the first time showing his more human side to his much loved worker, who deep down he sees as family.Thank you Daniel I just hope that the board sees it the same way as you. I can see that this will cost the company a lot of valued workers in the future. Anyway come, we best get to that meeting. Daniel walks by the side of his boss to the top of the three story building to the large meeting room.

Each step Randolph feels the worry build inside him, worry of what they will think and ask. He’s known most of these men and women since the day he started the company, and they have never let him down. But he knows they all share his view, the view that they do this to change the world for the good. Cure illnesses for the good of human kind, and this goes against what they all think and stand for.

Nervously he stays back and lets Daniel open the heavy glass door, leading into the board room. The board room itself has no carpet, instead it’s floored with polished wood. The walls are made up of windows from floor to ceiling, with the walls facing the inside of the building covered with blinds, giving the occupants of the room the feeling of privacy. While the outside windows let in the beautiful light from the outside world. Centre of the room is dominated by a large wooden table, polished to a perfect shine, with twelve matching chairs, all but one at the head of the table filled with men and women in suits of various ages.

Morning ladies gentlemen, sorry for keeping you waiting, we have much to discuss. Daniel can you please hand everyone a copy of this meeting’s agenda. Randolph says, doing his best to mask the disdain and nervousness in his voice.

Abstract of the Agenda handed out to the board.

Zentex pharmaceutical International Agenda

Date: 17th February 2012 10:00AM.

Location: Zentex headquarters Richston.

Attendees: Board members and Mr Hopkins.

1) Decision on Zentium.

2) Sign Official Secrets Act.

3) Discuss future of Zentium.

Mr Hopkins takes his seat at the top of the table, pouring himself a drink of water from one of the jugs pre laid out on the table. His hand shakes nervously, as he tries to hide it from the fellow members of the board. Daniel quickly hands out a copy of the Agenda, and takes a firm stance behind his bosses chair, waiting for the reaction of the board.

Sir, I do not understand, why are we talking about Zentium? We already decided that it’s too unsafe to continue. A gentleman sat to the left of Mr Hopkins asks, confused.

Mr Hopkins takes a deep breath, before standing and facing his board of chosen peers.

Ladies and gentlemen, yes we decide that it was unsafe to continue our research into Zentium The problem is the government has decided that they want us to continue at their expense. Mr Hopkins places a piece of paper on the projector and turns it on, projecting the letter on the wall from the Prime Minster.

Sir I don’t understand, why do the MOD want the Zentium? A slim, blonde haired, middle aged woman asks, getting a nod of approval from the rest of the board members.

Mr Hopkins sighs, his throat dry takes a sip of water before sternly saying, I am afraid without you signing The Official Secrets Act I cannot continue by law. Daniel if you please hand a copy to everyone to have a read through, if you please. Quick as he can Daniel hands a copy of the four page contract to the twelve board members, before taking his place back behind his boss.

The room goes silent as twelve sets of eyes read over the pages in front of them, taking in all the details. Mr Hopkins looks at his board members one by one, trying to read their minds, figure out who will sign and who will walk. He knows that he will have the support of at least four of the members, his oldest friends. The men who he grew up with, went to university with, even helped him set up his business. The rest of the members he is unsure of, not sure what they will think of working in secret, working on something so deadly to the world. He doesn’t agree with it himself, but he can’t tell them that yet, not until they have signed. He knows that if his company is in control, he can at least make sure it doesn’t get out of hand. Do what he can to not let something so potential of destroying the world getting out there.

Right now you have read the contract, everyone if you want to walk out of here, then I don’t blame you. But if you want to stay involved in Zentium, then you must sign. If not leave the contract in the middle of the table and please go back to your work. Mr Hopkins firmly says, all the members of the board taking in the seriousness of the meeting.

I t feels like hours pass while the board members noisily talk between each other, some angrily voicing their opinions of what the MOD could want with their company’s research. Tempers fly and at certain points fights nearly break out. It’s only when Mr Hopkins shouts for silence, the now angry mob stops talking and all eyes fall back to Mr Hopkins.

Ladies and gentlemen I need your decisions now. Mr Hopkins says, looking from one person’s face to another.

To his relief all the members sign their contracts, all in silence, with looks of worry at what they may be doing.Now that is out of the way, I can discuss the matter further. The contract you all just signed permits any of you from discussing Zentium with anyone, other than the people in this room and the scientists working on it. All work has to be done on these premisses, and no papers regarding Zentium can be taken home.

But sir that doesn’t answer what the MOD want with Zentium. I think it’s important sir we all know. One of the older men asks.

Mr Hopkins sighs before pulling out his preprepared notes.

The Ministry Of Defence wants us to develop Zentium for the future usage as a biological weapon. The MOD says the future usage is no concern to us, and that our work will be monitored my members of the MOD at all times. Breaching any sections laid out in the Official Secrets Act you all signed will result in imprisonment. Is that all clear?

Silently all the board members make notes in preprepared note books, and nod in agreement.

Good I am glad we are all on the same page, now I must leave to meet the official from the MOD to give them a tour of the labs. Ladies, gentlemen if you will excuse me. Mr Hopkins says, relieved that he has the support of his fellow board members and friends.

Mr Hopkins and his secretary leave the boardroom, leaving the board members to discuss the meeting they just had. Most decide that it’s a bad idea turning their companies drug into a weapon, but they understand what Mr Hopkins was saying. At least if they over see the project they can control what happens. Most of all they are loyal to their boss and friend Mr Hopkins. They know he tries to best for the company, as well as what is best for their customers.

Mr Hopkins I presume. A broad, short haired man says, dressed in a suit trailered to fit his large body.

Yes, sorry had a meeting to attend. I missed your name. Mr Hopkins replies.

Mr Collins, now can we get this over with, I don’t have all day. Has everyone signed their Official Secret Acts?

Daniel hands over the signed contracts, only to get ignored by Mr Collins, who flicks through them all quickly, checking the names off his preprepared list of approved names, before Mr Hopkins leads them all on a tour of the laboratories.

On the other side of the city, on a road called Lenfield drive. Two friends in their twenties are playing a video game, oblivious to what is going on in their home town. Sat in the living room of their three bedroom house. A simple blue carpeted room with light blue painted walls. The taller one of the two is sat on a two seater sofa, while his friend is sat on a one seater chair to his left. Benji, the older of the two has short black hair, a slim body and medium height gives him the appearance of a typical game developer. His laid back clothes reflect his personality. His friend David is his childhood friend, the closest friend Benji has. David works as a game tester, mainly testing the games his best friend makes. Standing at five foot seven, he is the shorter of the two. His medium length brown hair gives him a slightly less smart appearance than his friend.

David you think you will have the report finished by Monday then? The boss man will kick both our asses if we don’t get it finished. Benji asks, peering over his laptop as his friend plays on his Playstation.

Relax man, I will get it done, but I need to finish it first though. What are you working on now anyway. David replies to his friend.

Good I will help you where I can, but just make sure you get it finished. I’m just working on that zombie game they asked me to do. Just starting the storyline and dialogue at the minute.

Ah right cool man, who’s testing that one then when it’s done?

You will be mate, if you still have your job.

Ha relax I will finish. Hey I know changing the subject, but I may have forgot to tell you something important.

Oh what would that be?

I hired out the spare room, block came last week when you were working late, and I came back early. Quiet a scruffy block if I’m honest, I think a hippy. He had long dread locks and didn’t talk much.

Shit why didn’t you tell me? We agreed to interview together, seen as it is our house. How long is he staying for? Benji asks, annoyed at the stupidity of his best friend.

He should expect it now, seen as he has lived with him since he was a child. His parents died in a car crash, and been such a good friend of David’s. His parents took him and his sister in, treating them like their own. But that seems a life time ago. Now Benji’s sister lives up north, and David’s family live fifty miles away. The only person he really has in life is Benji.

Hey relax he’s is only staying a week, then he will be gone. David happily replies.

Got ya ha. David says to himself as he kills a strange monster in the game.

One week! One week! Damn David we need a house mate, we’re not a hotel. Why are you letting him stay for only a week? Benji angrily shouts at his friend.

Look from now on let me handle the house mate situation okay?

He offered us a full months rent man, how could I say no. And yes from now on I will leave it all to you okay? Oh and he’s already paid so you best let him stay. Benji tilts his head back to try and subdue his anger.

David can be so stupid sometimes, but this must be one of the stupidest things he has done. The thought hits him suddenly, if the money was paid in advance, then where is it?

David if this guy paid in advance, where the hell is the money?

Like we agreed, most of it has gone in the bank, and I have your share here. So relax mate.

Their conversation is suddenly interrupted by a knock on the front door.

Get that, that will be him, I need to get this finished tonight. Ha take that you pig. David says as he kills another monster in his game.

Benji walks to the door, still annoyed by his friend’s stupidity in the matter. He opens the front door to be greeted by a man even taller than him, at six foot two, that’s a rare sight. The man has long dread locks and a rough appearance. His clothes are tattered and ripped, similar of what you would see a homeless man wear. At his feet he has a large sports bag, just as dirty as his clothes. The only thing clean is the back pack tightly strapped to his back.

Here to rent your room. The man says his words short and sharp.

I will be only staying a week, can I see the room now I am tired? Taken back by the man’s straight to the point manner, Benji stands aside and lets the man pass, catching the strong smell of weed as the man passes.

The smell makes him wonder what his best friend has got him into, but with it only been for a week he guesses it won’t be that bad. Most of the time he will be working anyway, It’s only over the weekend he won’t be.

What brings you here? Benji asks, leading the man upstairs to the room he will be staying in.

The man sighs, keeping a straight face he replies.Personal. Before sighing again, hoping his rudeness will stop Benji asking anything else.

Alright then no need to say. Right the only rule is you buy your own food and take nothing you know isn’t yours. You can have people round but don’t make a lot of noise until early hours in the morning, understand?

Yes I understand, but as I said I will only be here a week. The man replies rudely.

Good now this is your room, and here is your house key. Benji says holding out the spare house key for the man to take.

The man quickly takes the key before quickly