6th September 2012
On a late summer's evening in the West Country, hordes of blood-thirsty zombies descended upon the streets of Bristol to deliver yet another hair-raising round of "2.8 Hours Later" as part of igfest 2012: the city's 5th annual street games festival. Programmed by Slingshot - who also designed the zombie game itself - the festival took place between the 5th and 8th of September with the aim of providing a completely fresh outlook on the concept of outdoor gaming. Showcasing an eclectic range of street-based games designed by international artists and designers alike, the festival is a celebration of mass social interaction employing the diverse urban landscape of Bristol city centre as its setting.
Bristol, UK
"Your
goal in the Zombie apocalypse is simple: survive."
On a late summer's evening in the West Country, hordes of blood-thirsty zombies descended upon the streets of Bristol to deliver yet another hair-raising round of "2.8 Hours Later" as part of igfest 2012: the city's 5th annual street games festival. Programmed by Slingshot - who also designed the zombie game itself - the festival took place between the 5th and 8th of September with the aim of providing a completely fresh outlook on the concept of outdoor gaming. Showcasing an eclectic range of street-based games designed by international artists and designers alike, the festival is a celebration of mass social interaction employing the diverse urban landscape of Bristol city centre as its setting.
Having
managed to scrape a pair of tickets with a friend for their
best-selling zombie-survival game, I was unsure of what I had got
myself into as I arrived at the St. Nicks meeting point early evening
on Thursday 6th September. Looking around the narrow, stall-lined
avenue, the event had attracted a sell-out crowd with large groups of
fancy-dressed punters nervously stood about, anxiously discussing
what horrors lay ahead. Splitting into groups, the first wave of
'survivors' were asked to huddle around a highly animated game
representative who explained the premise and rules that would govern
this most unusual of evenings. It went as follows: the world as we
know it has come to an end. A destructive virus has destroyed the
population of planet earth by turning its inhabitants into soulless,
blood-lusting zombies and as 'survivors' of this chronic epidemic,
lost in the smouldering ruins of an apocalyptic Bristolian future, it
was our task to reach an evacuation point that promised shelter and
safety. In order to reach the end of the game, we were all given maps
and the night progressed by moving through a series of staged
locations using co-ordinates gained from other 'survivors' we would
come across throughout the night. These survivors were played by
very, very convincing actors who really brought the game to life in
the most disturbing of ways. The zombies themselves were littered in
and between these staged locations and could potentially be hidden
anywhere, resulting in a surreal situation whereby streets I have
known my whole life suddenly became steeped in potential peril. If
caught by a zombie at any point during this survival dash then a
simple tag system came into play (no actual flesh eating thank god),
as a simple tap on the body meant you had to stop and let the zombie
mark you with the infection using an ultra violet pen. This mark
would later be analysed at the evacuation point meaning you could
continue playing as a 'carrier' even if you had technically been
'infected'.
After
joining forces with a couple who were looking to expand their
post-apocalyptic survival team, we were told the first set of
co-ordinates and after finding it on the map, headed off into the new
dystopian world which had replaced our once familiar city. Arriving
down by the archway at the bottom of Broad street, we were met by a
terribly distraught young woman dressed in blood-stained scrubs.
Clutching a photograph of a man in her hands, she thrust it forwards
pleading us to try and find her husband who had gone missing. Taken
aback by this crying woman, the game became a reality and from then
on the pace of the night never lifted. Telling us that she had last
seen him at the old police station, a new set of co-ordinates were
given and off we went in search of our next clue. Walking past a
highly appropriate 'See No Evil' graffiti mural, which depicted blood
pouring down a high office block, we headed down Nelson street until
the foreboding, blackened stone façade of the abandoned police
station loomed before us. Entering through a rusted gate, a small
staircase led us down into the dimly lit prison cells where our first
'encounter' of the night took place; the first in a series of
enclosed, claustrophobic 'levels' where the tension and drama were
cranked up to dizzying heights. Hearing a scream from down the
hallway, a surge of adrenaline pounded through my body as we
nervously tiptoed past the dormant jail cells. A low pitched groan
then reverberated off the prison bars as we rounded the corner to
come face to face with a ferocious zombie who stood in front of the
exit door, covered in blood and drunk on rage. A few others had
joined us by this stage and seeing no other option but to make a dash
for it, we all bolted towards the door he guarded; side-stepping the
murderous lunges from the groaning corpse that swayed blindly before
us.
Pacing
through the centre of Broadmead with the rest of my group afterwards,
high on the buzz of surviving my first ever zombie encounter, we kept
turning corners to find staggering corpses down every avenue. Not
wanting to attract their attentions, we backtracked several times
finally reaching a large loading bay behind a row of closed shops
just off The Horsefair. In this clearing, surrounded by a gang of
drugged-looking zombies, stood a mad scientist dressed in a
blood-stained white coat who was waving a glass vial above her head.
Sensing our obvious reluctance to approach, the eccentric woman
attempted to soothe our concerns by stating that she held an antidote
in her hands which acted as a repellent against the undead and that
she would only reveal the next set of co-ordinates if we came closer.
Having no other choice but to trust her questionable chemistry, we
edged forward while constantly keeping an eye on the swaying zombies
around us. With the co-ordinates of the next location revealed, the
scientist closed the vial without warning which seemed to stir the
zombies from their slumber as they suddenly roared into life,
grabbing anyone that was not quick enough to react in the mad frenzy
that followed. Panting heavily in an adjacent alleyway after the
ambush, I looked around for the other members of my team who I had
lost when everyone had scattered from the zombie attack. Fortunately
they had not gone far and we soon regrouped, checking the map to see
that the next location would be the old derelict bank on Wine Street.
Arriving at the bank as the sun bid farewell to the day, we were
greeted by a maniacal stream of giggling that cackled from within the
building. Opening the loading bay door tentatively, a hysterical man
introduced himself as the 'banker' whose lunatic disposition and
hysterical ramblings proved to be highly disturbing. Pointing to a
red line on the floor, he ended his nonsensical tirade by ordering us
to follow it as apparently it led to the exit. Leaving him to dwell
in his own insanity, we proceeded to follow this red line along
gloomy corridors towards a stairwell which brought us down into the
basement vault. Entering the underground room, utter anarchy ensued
as we discovered a frantic zombie woman snarling at us through the
bars of the vault. A sneaky manoeuvre by our new friend Steve, goaded
the manic zombie from the doorway she was protecting, allowing us to
quickly dash to the relative safety of the street outside.
Darkness
had now fallen upon Bristol, stoking new fears in the shadows that
formed across the city streets. Using a street light to trace a route
towards the next location, we set off across the Victoria street
bridge before cutting down an alleyway towards an old church that
rested at its far end. Spotting a zombie about 50 metres off, we
quickly darted through the iron gate before he saw us in the hope
that hallowed ground would protect us from the evil creatures that
lurked outside. Wandering in through the large Gothic doors, small
shrines displaying missing person posters had been left at the
entrance; illuminated by the dying candles that flickered across the
walls of the small vestibule. The church itself was submerged in
darkness although the figure of a man could just about could be seen
in front of the altar ahead; his elongated silhouette bleeding
towards the stained glass windows that hung above. Seeing us enter,
this manic figure turned around and invited us to come forward
although a sick desperation seemed hidden in the invitation.
Approaching him one step too far, the 'carrier' leapt forward in a
blind rage but was thankfully pulled back just before he reached us
by a sturdy chain that shackled him to a heavy wooden pew. Having
been bitten, this man was in the process of turning into a zombie yet
still held on to a few remaining human faculties allowing him to
communicate with us. Ordering the congregation before him to kneel
down on our knees, he gave the next set of co-ordinates that would
lead us into the latter part of the game...
Charging on
into the night, the co-ordinates that the mad priest had given us
forged a path towards a series of empty buildings that stood dormant
at the entrance to Temple Meads train station. After being called
over by another survivor, we were shown into the stairwell of a
particularly quiet building whose inner silence contrasted greatly
with the hustle and bustle outside. Creeping up the winding stairwell
cautiously, we approached a doorway at the top which led into a dark
corridor where the only light came from the rooms that led off it.
From one of these rooms, a small shrill voice greeted us and we
entered to find a bizarre, eccentric-looking lady stood at its
centre. Requesting us to come and see her blood-stained kitchen, a
surreal tour around her hiding place followed until she gave us a new
set of co-ordinates and directed us back into the corridor towards
the exit stairwell. Heading down this staircase led to what was, for
me at least, the most intense part of the night. Reaching the bottom,
a metal door led into a large room filled with columns and more
importantly, two dazed looking zombies that snarled at one another in
the corner. Carefully tiptoeing through the door, muffled sobbing
could be heard coming from a glass-sided stairwell to our left and
upon closer investigation we found a very distraught woman who told
us her leg had been badly broken. Sensing a potential ambush in her
cries for help, we hesitated in stepping forward but with no other
options we entered the narrow stairwell and approached the young
lady. Suddenly all hell broke loose as a huge roar surged up from the
staircase below and before we knew what was happening, a rabid zombie
lurched out of the darkness towards us. A manic few seconds drenched
in wild panic followed as we beat a hasty retreat; closing the door
just as the zombie slammed his head against the glass partition;
snarling and hissing before our very eyes. The moment of safety was
short-lived though as the other zombies soon rushed over, charging at
us from our exposed rear. Avoiding a swipe from their claret-covered
claws, the group disbanded in every direction, fleeing through the
series of columns towards the exit. Clambering down a final set of
stairs in leaps and bounds, I wheezed in the cool air outside while
my heart thumped furiously within my chest.
With only
one location left, we plodded away from the bright lights of the
station and headed towards the industrial-looking area behind Temple
Meads. Stumbling through these dark lanes, we finally came upon the
big top that marks the newly developed 'Temple Quarter Enterprise
Zone' where we discovered more zombies on the gravel square. Deciding
to give them a wide berth, a short walk led to our final survivor
encounter of the evening. Dressed like some sort of apocalyptic Willy
Wonka with a dilapidated leather suitcase full of play dolls before
him, the underworld dandy leered at us through his crooked spectacles
while his gold teeth glinted in the moonlight. Frantically asking the
way, he replied in a guttural drawl, 'I don't have any information
for you but my friend does...', lowering his face from view and
holding up a small hand puppet that instructed us to cross "The
Bridge of Vipers" and then "run like the clappers" to
the safety of the evacuation zone. Following the path down to this
curiously named bridge, an incredible scene unfolded as a gang of
inebriated zombie hookers - the Vixens - tottered in high heels along
the metallic crossing which had been lit by photogenic beams of light
from below. Managing to reach the other side in one piece, we
navigated our way through a few final darkened streets before coming
across the evacuation zone which could be seen in the distance....the
only problem was that a large gang of zombies blocked the way.
Combining forces with another group, we all charged down the street,
ducking and weaving through the flailing limbs until finally reaching
safety. A brief screening process followed our arrival where each
survivor was analysed for ultra-violet infection bites. Those unlucky
enough to be branded with the mark were given a zombie makeover to
complete their transformation. Emerging from the tents, a zombie
disco was in full flow where a few beers rounded off the night with a
good old fashioned 'thriller' boogie. 2.8 Hours later was a deeply
disturbing but exhilarating experience that I definitely won't forget
in a hurry....until the next apocalypse rolls around of course....
This review was published on: http://www.afterdark.co/bristol/news/2346-2.8_Hours_Later_Review
This review was published on: http://www.afterdark.co/bristol/news/2346-2.8_Hours_Later_Review
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