I was a student at St Andrews University in Scotland when the outbreak happened. I remember that night when i saw it on the news, about the riots in Cambridge down in England, i didnt really think about it much, after all, it was probably just some drunken students or some anti tuition fee's protest.

It wasnt until i woke the next morning for work that the news was reporting that people had died. But still, it was hundreds of miles away, what did i have to worry about ?

Then as the days passed, people started to worry about this new infection. Dont get me wrong, i was worried too, but i didnt think that it would reach Scotland, i genuinely thought it would be contained. Most people did in the first days, we didnt know enough about it to know any better. Nobody did.

Every day the news on the TV grew worse and worse. Another city fallen, another blockade overrun, another government official resigning or fleeing with his family. Me and a few friends were having a drink at mine, and all we ended up doing was watching the news the whole night. The massive traffics jams as people streamed out of London, the huge fires in Manchester and Plymouth...

Prices shot sky high, even for basics like bread, butter and milk. Fuel prices were extortionate, and from the second week onwards we started to receive frequent power outages, sometimes for hours at a time.

Classes were eventually cancelled, and the campus turned into a refugee centre. I got a train to Dundee, where my family lived, just across the River Tay. Public transport had become a nightmare, nobody cleaned the trains anymore, some ticket inspectors were insulted, some even assaulted.

By the time i got to Dundee, the city was a mess. You see, most of England was gone by this point, and there was fear that Scotland would soon be hit next. Law and order was slowly but surely breaking down. Black bags of rubbish lined the streets, and bins stood unemptied, with not enough fuel for waste disposal, as the remaining fuel was being used by emergency services and the armed forces, with strict fuel rationing in effect. Some cars that had broken down or had run out of fuel were abandoned in the middle of the street, others had been stripped or burnt out. There were occasional gunshots from the Douglas and Broughtyferry areas of the city, as police executed looters. At night the city was illuminated by fires of arsonists, or of funeral pyres of people who had died of diseases that were long thought gone in Britain. It was...almost medieval looking.

When news broke that the infection hit Glasgow, things in Dundee fell apart. The police left their posts to protect their families, the army pulled out from the city, and headed north towards Aberdeen, or, according to some rumours, to retake the North Sea oil rigs that had been occupied by the Norwegian military. No war ever broke out between the remnants of the British forces and Norway, so its probably safe to say that was just another bullshit rumour.

After the power was cut, and the radio stopped broadcasting, i decided it was time to get out. I bribed a fisherman with a thousand euro's i had saved for my then upcoming holiday to Amsterdam, obviously by then cancelled. He took me, my mum and dad and my little brother right round Scotland and into Dublin harbour. I never did see any infected first hand, something i am glad of, but i did see my own city destroy itself from the inside out, before the infected even arrived.