24/03/2014 – 2:21pm

Grandsen Green Farm, Great Grandsen, Cambridgeshire

Brett left the wooden barn and headed towards the fields behind the building. The hedgerow lining the track was slowly growing out of control and started to lean inwards, creating a patchy roof above the pathway.

The moment she climbed over the fence, a vile smell and sight hit her: the field that was usually full of grazing sheep was now covered in slaughtered animals, blood and vomit matting their wool. Bites had been taken out of every beast; however she saw a collapsed fence, decorated with muddy hoof prints leading out of the field which made her feel slightly better.

She held her scarf over the lower half of her face to block out the stench as Jake returned back to her after he had run around the field, dodging the fallen sheep. In the corner of the next field was an old Anderson bomb shelter that still existed from the Second World War. It was her last hope.

She clambered over the next set of fences but immediately stopped when she heard Jake growling. She slowly turned around to see a zombie staggering towards her. It tripped over a dead sheep, but quickly got back on its feet. Brett gathered her bat and knife and climbed back into the other field. Half of its face was sliding off its skull, and pieces of muscle were clearly visible in the torn skin. She took a breath in, and charged towards the zombie. She held the bat at head height and it smacked loudly into its forehead. It fell to the floor but Brett took the chance to beat the last of its head into mush.

She stumbled backwards and wiped the bloody bat on the wet grass. Brett crouched on the ground, using the bat as support while she took a few moments to catch her breath. She pushed herself off the ground and walked back towards the fence where Jake was waiting loyally for her. She headed off to the shelter; its walls were dented and smeared with blood. It filled her with dread until she pushed the door open. It screeched and let sunlight scatter into the dark room: it was empty.