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there is an.. .event taking place in the city. I recommend you sit down and wait here. It’s safer in here than outside right now, until I know what exactly is going on.” Jill ran her hands through her hair. Jackson wheeled a chair up to Caterina and paused beside her.
    For once , Caterina didn’t answer back. She meekly sat down on the chair as the final person to leave the office rushed out, banging the door shut behind them. Jackson rested a hand on Caterina’s shoulder. She could see the concern on his face and decided it best to stay here, for the time being at least. The thundering noise of thousands of scuffing shoes and heels faded, and Jill looked around the office.
    “Right, well , I appreciate everyone staying who has,” she said, her voice wavering, faltering with nerves. “I’m going to my office now to speak to security, to find out what is really happening. If you need anything, come and see me, but otherwise, I suggest you head to the rec’ room and wait there. I’ll fill you in as soon as I can. Jackson, can you please do a roll call and see who we have left? I need to fill in the report for health and safety on this and know who’s left.”
    With that , Jill walked back to her office, consciously keeping her head up, and back straight. She switched the phones to emergency override, so that the call centre was effectively shut down and any callers would just hear the pre-recorded message about the centre having been evacuated. This way, she wouldn’t have to deal with a million complaints tomorrow about clients not being able to get through. She was surprised that she hadn’t been made aware of any issue in the plaza, or the city, and wondered if it was a hoax. She dialled security’s number.
    E veryone who had stayed, silently made their way to the rec’ room and Jackson wrote down a list of names of everybody there. He counted eighteen names on the list, including himself, and amongst them, were some colleagues he could almost call friends: Jill, Caterina, Freddy, Jenny, Cindy, Amber, and Parker. Some of them, such as Brad, he could not, and would not, call friends. He wished he had a hundred and seven names on the list today though. Jackson had a bad feeling about this.
    * * * *
    DI Benzema jumped out of the squad car as it screeched to a halt on Waterloo Bridge. The driver jumped out.
    “Move it , constable!” the DI shouted.
    The squad car d river followed the DI out onto the bridge in the rain. People were running amok, and he was confronted with so many people he didn’t know where to turn; some were clearly injured and bleeding. The constable did not heed his superior’s advice and ‘move it’ quick enough though. An old woman in a sodden medicinal gown grabbed him and sunk her teeth into his neck. The policeman’s blood drizzled down the old woman’s lips and they sank to the ground together, where another patient, an old man, joined them, ripping the constable’s face off.
    As much as he wanted to, DI Benzema knew he could not stop and help. He ran toward the hospital defying his natural instincts. People lay dead or dying in front of him: on the road, the pavement, and the grassy knoll in front of the hospital. He saw fighting outside the tube station that had developed into a brawl involving at least fifty people. As he ran, he dodged anyone that reached for him or called out for help. He had strict instructions to get to the hospital; he had to find Doctor Garner. As the DI ran through the shattered doors of the hospital, he heard the whirring blades of the helicopter approaching above. He had to hurry.
    Inside the hospital entrance , he skidded to a halt. The receptionist lay over the front desk, her innards pooled around her. The floor was awash with blood and it was eerily silent compared to the cacophony outside. He saw the sign for Intensive Care and ran. They had received a phone call from Doctor Garner that the patient had shown up here about two hours ago. Doctor