28 Years Later is due to hit cinemas this June, and I found myself wondering if past themes - specifically, the gendered way that survival is framed - will be continued.

Watching the first film, 28 Days Later, the turning point that elevated it from a run-of-the-mill post-apocalyptic zombie film was Major Henry West’s (Christopher Eccleston) chilling line: “I promised them women.”

This draws a clear line in the sand, separating the group distinctly into male and female survivors rather than simply survivors. It jarringly introduces gender into a post-apocalyptic setting in a way that highlights the commodification of the female body, stripping women of their autonomy and personhood in favour of viewing them as tools for survival.

In that moment, the infected became a less insidious and sinister threat when compared to West and his (literal) army of ravenous men. In a world where all are deemed powerless against the infected, women are deemed even more so by the behaviour and attitude of the surviving men.

It is the threat posed by human men and male violence against women that shifts the film from a fictional state of danger to one rooted in the real world – a threat that women know all too well. It brings forth the most vile elements of humanity. Even though the term survivors should serve as a homogenising label, the scraps of humanity are violently torn apart by West’s differentiation between male and female survivors. The unifying circumstance of survival is split along gender lines from the second West utters that iconic line.

This illuminates the harsh truth that, even in a world destroyed, where few have survived and are trying to rebuild, harmful systems of oppression persist. Specifically, the patriarchy.

West and his army believe that survival, or rather, satisfying their own desires, is of greater importance than the autonomy of individual women. The survival and desires of a few men override the rights of a woman and a child (no, not even children are safe from the grasp of patriarchal ideals). The rights of those living in the present are overridden by the imagined needs of the future. It provokes an interesting allegorical comparison: the control of women’s bodies, both as individuals and as a means for the survival of the human race via childbirth, with total disregard for the mother.

Garland paints a visceral worldview – a world where although every body is equal in the sense of being susceptible to infection, not every body is equal in terms of survival. The violence and danger in 28 Days Later stem not only from the infected (who cannot control themselves), but also from the men who can choose not to inflict sexual violence on their fellow survivors – but do so anyway.

The concept of survival is divided. But is this really surprising, given that the treatment of bodies in our own society is already so deeply divided?