by Ryan Casey
She’d projected onto him. That much was clear.
She’d decided he needed saving.
Maybe he didn’t need saving at all.
Maybe he just needed leaving alone.
She looked back at the house. She could still hear him in the back somewhere. And she felt bad, walking away like this, without saying goodbye. But at the end of the day, he’d been a dick to her earlier. He’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t welcome.
And shit, maybe he was right. Maybe it was time she went out there and looked for her friends. Kayleigh. The rest of her housemates. It seemed dangerous, heading back to the city, especially after everything she’d seen yesterday. But maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as she expected. Maybe it would be manageable after the initial shock. Maybe there were people out there helping. Maybe the police or the army had taken control and were making sure everyone had the supplies they needed to make it through.
Because that’s how it had to be, right?
Society didn’t leave people behind. Especially not in a time of great need, like this.
As bad as yesterday had been, society wouldn’t crumble.
People would pull together.
All that shit she’d taken on board about getting out of the city, getting to the countryside, getting out of harm’s way… how did she know that wasn’t just her old dad’s paranoia creeping through?
And staying here with a guy she barely even knew?
A guy she felt sorry for?
Yeah. She was living a fantasy. And it was about time she woke the fuck up if she wanted to survive.
She swallowed a lump in her throat.
Looked down at Rex, who whined by her side.
“It’s okay, lad,” she said. “We’ll be okay out here. You and me.”
She looked around at the trees. At the hills. At the sun and the blue sky in the distance.
And then she tensed her fists, and she walked.
It was time to start surviving, alone.
MAX WENT through his supplies to try and keep his mind off how rough he felt, but all he could think about was Aoife.
He gritted his teeth as he stacked cans of tuna on top of one another. He had plenty of tins of tuna, that was for sure. He didn’t even fucking like tuna, really. But he knew how effective a source of protein it was and just how far it was going to get him. So he’d stocked up on it years ago. Just in case he ever needed it. He wasn’t exactly a prepper. Not like the guys over in the States who had fully kitted out bunkers.
But he had enough shit down here to get him through. Just enough to get him through a crisis. And that was a lot more than most.
He had a flash in his mind of feeding Rex a tin, and a smile came to his face.
A smile that immediately dropped away when he remembered what he’d told Aoife.
He’d told her to leave. Tonight. To gather whatever she needed and go. That he didn’t want her here.
And he wasn’t going to lie; she’d upset him by bringing Kathryn and David into this. Pissed him off.
But maybe what pissed him off more than anything was that she was right.
Maybe he didn’t want help.
Maybe he did just want to drift away and sink into oblivion, all by himself.
Maybe that’s what he felt like he deserved.
But as he stood there, over the tins of tuna, it suddenly struck him that he’d been on his own for a long, long time. And was he ever happy? Had he ever truly been happy at all in the three years since Kathryn and David were taken from him?
He gritted his teeth, and he knew what he had to do.
“Stuff it,” he said.
He turned around. Climbed up the stairs of his cellar. His right side still hurt, but it didn’t feel as bad. He felt a lot better, in all honesty.
He reached the top of the stairs. Looked around for a sign of Aoife.
“Aoife?” he called.
But nobody responded.
Nothing but echoes.
He frowned. Looked around. Looked in the lounge. Then in the bedrooms.
Upstairs and downstairs.
He looked everywhere, until he realised something.
The front door.
It was partly open.
He walked over to it. A sense of urgency kicking in. He had to stop her. He had to tell her she could stay a bit longer. He had to apologise.
But when he pulled the door open, he saw exactly what he feared.
There was no sign of Aoife.
There was no sign of Rex.
They were already gone.
CHAPTER SIX
Aoife wasn’t sure how long she’d been walking before she realised she’d made a huge mistake.
It was still morning. It’d gone a little cloudy now, but it was still bright. It felt quite warm for a winter’s day, something she was relieved about. She hated the cold and the thought of just how miserable it would be if she were stuck in a powerless world at this time of year for any length of time. None of the luxuries she was used to. No hot showers. No central heating. No warm baths.
And yet… there was something about the thought of sitting around a fire, out in the woods, that appealed to her.
But the thought of doing that alone?
That terrified her.
She stopped. She’d been walking for quite some time. She was just outside Beacon Fell now, where Max’s house sat on the edge of. She was still in the countryside, still well out of the way of civilisation, really. Fields all around her. Woodlands in the distance. The most populated area round here was a pretty new development. An estate. She’d read about it in the news. Some of the locals kicked off that they were creating an affordable and social housing estate right amid a beauty spot.
But they’d gone ahead with it, and Aoife hadn’t heard anything more of it. So she could only assume it’d gone okay.
But there was still a part of her that didn’t want to venture down to that estate. She didn’t want to get caught up in any trouble.
Up ahead, she could see Blackpool tower, right on the horizon. And she could see smoke in the air, too. She shuddered. Wondered how it was over that way, off in the distance. Wondered how people were getting on. How they were coping. How they were surviving. It was the second day people had woken up without power, after all. God knows just how crazy they were starting to get already.
She wondered just how out of control things really were.
She felt grateful to be here, out in the middle of nowhere.
But at the same time…
She turned back. Looked up towards Beacon Fell. Thought about Max, struggling on his own. He wasn’t well. He was sick. That was for sure.
And sure, she didn’t know why she cared so much. He was a dick to her. He’d made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t welcome.
And yet…
There was still a part of her that felt like she should go back there, whether he liked it or not. The stab wound, it wasn’t in a good way. And she’d seen how he’d collapsed earlier.
And sure. He said he was on antibiotics. He was a former army medic, and he knew what he was doing. She wasn’t going to doubt that.
But she just worried about him on his own. Because she didn’t want him to lose hope, especially with nobody around him.
She remembered being in the woods with Dad. The way they’d go pheasant shooting together. Silently. Just the sounds of the birds around them. The wind against the trees.
And she always remembered thinking Dad seemed sad, somehow. Like there was something he wanted to say to her but couldn’t bring himself to. It was only in later years that she really understood it. He was sad. Desperately sad. He missed Mum.
And the way he looked at Seth…
It was never said, but Aoife wondered if Seth wasn’t his son. It would explain why he was harder on him. Why they looked so different.
She remembered overhearing them once, arguing, when she was very young, probably too young to typically remember. She wondered if
Mum had an affair before she was born. Because she remembered Dad saying “you did it again. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”
A fragment. A memory she wasn’t even sure she remembered.
But it was there. And it made her wonder.
She looked at Rex. Saw him staring up at her, wagging his tail. And she smiled. She was happy for his company. That was something, at least. He was a good dog. She’d saved him from a shitty home. At least someone appreciated her.
But then she saw how thin he was and saw the trees around them both, and she felt overwhelmed. She knew her stuff. But did she know enough to survive, really? And to look after a dog in the process?
She wasn’t sure she did.
She looked back down the hill, towards the fields ahead, towards Blackpool Tower in the distance. And she felt a sense of dread. Of unease. She knew she needed to stay away from the populated places. She knew it was dangerous to go wandering back there. She remembered what her instincts told her and what Dad told her long ago, and she knew she shouldn’t ignore it either.
But then she looked back up Beacon Fell and felt that stubbornness. Max told her to leave. He told her to get the hell away by tonight. And she wasn’t going to stand there and argue. She wasn’t going to fight when someone had made it abundantly clear she wasn’t wanted.
But then she wondered if she was just being obtuse. Being too stubborn.
She wondered…
She took a deep breath. Tensed her fists. And as much as her stubborn streak screamed at her, she knew what she had to do. Exactly what she had to do.
She knew what was right.
She went to walk back up the hill, back towards Max’s place.
That’s when she heard footsteps.
And that’s when she heard a shout.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Max wasn’t sure how long he’d been out in the woods gathering firewood when he felt the pain in his right side grow even more intense.
He stumbled down to the ground. He felt hot, clammy like he was in a sauna with the temperature right up. His ears were ringing. His mouth was dry. He felt like total shit.
And yet, despite his lack of energy, despite how awful he felt, he still tried to insist to himself that he was okay. That everything was going to be fine. That it was just an infection, but he was on his antibiotics, so he was going to pull through this. He was going to be fine.
But the medic inside him knew this was a fantasy.
He looked down at his shirt. Saw the blood and the pus seeping through. He hadn’t shown Aoife. She didn’t know how bad it was. If she did, she probably wouldn’t have left.
But then, fuck. He’d told her to get gone by tonight. To take what she needed and go. She hadn’t taken a thing. Stubborn woman.
But as he crouched here feeling weak as fuck, he couldn’t deny that he felt afraid right now. He was sick. Really sick. Second fucking day of the new world, and he would be one of those people who died of infection. Not something he’d expected or imagined.
And it was the thought of dying alone that suddenly felt all the more daunting to him. He’d long ago come to terms with the idea that he was going to die alone. It’s just the way he was going to go, and there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. He’d lost the love of his life; he’d lost his son, he wasn’t going to risk losing anyone else. Wasn’t even worth getting close to anyone to have it all taken away.
And yet, right here, crouching on the ground of the woods, feeling sick and feeling dizzy, Max wondered if this was really the path he wanted to go down.
He lifted his head. Squinted into the bright light. He looked down the path, where Aoife had no doubt gone. She couldn’t be far down there. He’d be able to make it to her in no time if he really went for it.
But then he was sore, and he was feverish, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength in him.
And fuck. Admitting he needed help from someone wasn’t the most natural thing to do in the world, that’s for sure.
But right now, he needed to stop being pig-headed. He was hurt. Badly hurt. And he needed someone to look after him. Maybe even needed some stronger antibiotics and some extra medication, a reality he didn’t want to have to accept or come to terms with.
Whatever the case, he needed someone.
He wasn’t ready to die.
He wasn’t ready to join Kathryn and David yet.
There was more to live for.
He stood up. A little dizzy. A little shaky.
Dropped the firewood he’d collected to the ground.
And then he walked.
It was only as he walked down the hill that he realised just how exhausted he was. Like, he knew he was knackered, but now he felt even more knackered than he’d realised.
He put one heavy foot in front of the other. Dug his fingers into his palms, tightened his grip. His hands were shaking. He felt boiling hot, but his teeth were chattering.
He needed to get to Aoife.
He needed to reach her.
“Aoife…”
And then he tumbled.
Lost his footing and tumbled forward, right down the hill, past trees he used to walk past. Past trees he used to be so adept at navigating between.
Smacked his face against the trees.
Felt loose branches and sharp stones scratching against his face.
And all the time, he could feel himself sinking further and further into the abyss, getting closer and closer to death, getting…
His head smacked against something hard.
Presumably a tree.
He lay there. Ears ringing. Colours filling his vision. Staring up at the sky. Shaking.
And as he lay there, watching the birds fly by, he didn’t feel the sense of peace he hoped to feel.
He didn’t feel ready to go.
He wanted to live.
He wanted to fight on.
He wanted to survive.
But as he tried to move, he realised he had nothing at all. No energy in his body whatsoever.
He tried to move, tried to shake free of the shackles his own body had him in, and he couldn’t.
He had nothing left inside him.
Nothing at all.
He wanted to keep his eyes open because he knew what happened if he closed them.
He wanted to keep them open because he wasn’t ready to go yet.
He wanted to keep his eyes open because if he closed them, he still saw Seth standing over David, knife to his throat.
But his eyelids fought back.
Kept on closing.
Kept on…
He heard movement.
He heard voices. Muffled.
And then he felt like someone was right there beside him.
And then, nothing but darkness.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Aoife heard the shout and froze.
It came from the thick trees above. It was hard to make out. But she could definitely hear commotion. Some kind of muffled talking going on.
And for some reason, it scared her. Made her feel uncomfortable. Which was entirely irrational because chances were it was someone with good intentions. She’d had some bad luck yesterday and the night of the blast. The kind of people she’d run into left a lot to be desired. Which naturally had her a bit on edge of who else she might bump into. Especially when things were going to be getting a hell of a lot more strained over the coming days and weeks.
But hearing that shout right now, she had to look past her fear and face up to the very real fact that it could be Max.
Shit, no. It had to be Max. After all, who else lived out here, alone like him?
She stood there, Rex by her side. And she found herself torn. On the one hand, she wanted to race up the slope, check Max was okay. He was shouting, so he needed help.
But on the other hand…
Not only that stubbornness. But that fear.
That fear of what she was going to find.
She took a deep breath.
She
only had one choice.
“Come on, Rex,” she said. “Let’s go.”
She ran up the slope, fast as she could. She kept on forgetting just how achy she was and just how much her body had been put through the wringer in the last couple of days. So running wasn’t as easy as it might’ve been.
Her knees were sore. Her arms felt exposed and bruised. And she could still feel Seth’s fingertips digging into her tongue, on the brink of cutting it from her mouth.
She pushed all this pain and discomfort aside and kept on going.
She had to get to Max’s place.
She had to know he was okay.
She reached the house, and she stopped.
The doors were shut. The place looked empty. And there was just an ominous sense that something was wrong.
A sense that this home wasn’t inhabited, even though it wasn’t exactly the most buzzing place in the world at the best of times, no doubt.
She went over to the door to check anyway. Turned the handle.
Locked.
She banged against the door. Then the window. Still feeling a bit torn after coming back here. Max sure had made it clear she wasn’t welcome anymore.
But then she pushed that doubt aside. Because at the end of the day, like it or not, grumpy or not, Max needed help.
“Max?” she shouted. “You okay in there?”
No answer.
She sighed. Like he’d even answer if he was in there.
But she wasn’t walking away. She wasn’t taking “no” for an answer where this was concerned.
Stubborn or not, she was getting back in Max’s house.
She looked around for a plant pot he might have a spare set of keys under. Seth must’ve found his way in somehow. Sure, he was far more qualified in burglary than she was. But there had to be a simple way.
But her searches were fruitless. So she found herself looking for a rock.
She could break in. Smash his window.
He wouldn’t mind, as long as it was for his benefit, right?
She picked up a rock. Stood there, butterflies in her stomach. Heart racing. She saw Rex staring at her like even he was judging her.