11
Driving through Bristol City Centre, everything seems as it should be: people dressed in business suits walking along the pavement, teenagers loitering outside shops and bus stops. And the roads are as busy as you’d expect them to be on a Monday afternoon.
Andrew’s been quiet for most of the journey. He seems tense, worried. Which makes me worried. He says there’s been an outbreak, which has spread across the whole of Crandale—an area of Bristol that covers several large streets, a church, a primary school, and a community centre. We’ve been called in to assist, even though this is out of our jurisdiction. Apparently, it’s been contained. For now. Police blockades, the works. Nothing’s getting in or out.
Except us.
As we approach Crandale, I see police lights flashing. Looks like on
