by Fred Alvrez
“Mean. All I remember was the dog he set on me before he took my car. It was scary as hell.”
“What sort of dog was it? Rottweiler? Pit bull?”
After a pause, he answered her. “Rottweiler. Mean dog, too, standing over me with its teeth bared. I nearly pissed my pants. The guy actually made his dog go to bite my crotch!”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. What sort of car did you lose?”
“It was one of those new fancy electric ones—um, a Telsa.”
“Um, do you mean a Tesla?”
“Yeah, Tesla, that’s it. Sleek-looking thing, too. Gone now.”
Casey couldn’t help but turn her face away and smile. She knew the cheapest Tesla cost well over a hundred thousand dollars, and if he really had owned one, surely he’d know the right name for it.
She turned back to Flynn, faking a yawn. “And your wife, does she—did she—work at all?”
“Uh, yeah. She worked…at the local gas station. Admin stuff, you know?”
“Sure, we all know admin stuff. How long have you been married?”
Flynn frowned, and pointed to her glass. “Casey, you haven’t touched your juice. Not thirsty now?”
She felt her hands starting to shake. She obviously wasn’t as good an actor as he was. “I am, but I’m really interested in people, you know?”
“I like people, too, a lot. We’ve been married for ten years now.”
“Wow, you must have been young! Eighteen maybe?”
“Well, not actually married. I meant to say we’ve been going out for ten years but married for five. All this end-of-the-world stuff has mucked up my math.” Flynn continued to stir the pot.
Casey mentally kicked herself for not doing it sooner. She looked to his ring finger: no wedding ring. “What’s her name? Your wife.”
“Felicity. People used to make fun of that, Flynn and Felicity, you know?”
Flynn got what Casey guessed were some herbs and sprinkled them over the cooking stew.
“Yeah, I can imagine they would. I didn’t see any photos of her on your hallway wall.”
“She didn’t like having her photo taken. A real introvert.”
“Not even a wedding photo?”
“Of course. They’re stored away in my, uh, our bedroom. I can show you later if you like.”
Flynn smiled, and Casey’s’ heart sank. It was a smile that was hiding something but wasn’t hidden to her anymore.
Casey tried to keep her mind focused on the conversation but also desperately planning how the hell she was going to make her getaway from this place. She had no doubt of his intentions, and they weren’t honorable.
“Okay, dinner’s nearly ready. You going to drink that juice?”
“I’ll have it with dinner, thanks. I’ll set the table if you like, and grab you some juice as well. We’ll need extra vitamin C these days. No going to the doctor if we get sick.”
“Sounds good. You do that and I’ll dish up.”
Casey rose and went to the same cupboard Flynn had to get a glass—an identical glass. She poured him some juice from the bottle on the bench and quickly took both glasses to his kitchen table, carefully noting which was hers.
She placed them on the table and returned to the kitchen to get knives and forks.
She set the table as Flynn came over with two plates of meat stew. The smell again set her stomach off.
“Still starving, huh? I should have given you some snacks or something. I’m not a very good host, am I? I’ll give you some nuts later to snack on.”
Another mischievous smile crossed Flynn’s face and Casey cringed internally. “Hey, you are a great host! Not many people would invite a stranger to dinner.”
“Well, I don’t feel like you are a stranger now. I hope we can spend some more time together.”
Casey chose not to answer.
Flynn put the plates down, and she sat to eat. The food looked and smelled great. Actually she didn’t care how it looked or smelled. She was famished.
What if the food is drugged? Could he have sprinkled some sort of powder over it? Shit.
“Oh, I forgot napkins. Do you have any, Flynn?”
“Of course. I’ll go grab some.”
Casey quickly and quietly switched the dinner plates. Better safe than sorry. She started eating to distract him from seeing any difference in their plates.
“Here we go. Might be the end of the world but still got to keep our manners, huh?”
“It’s one thing my mum taught me. Sorry, I couldn’t wait to eat. Very rude of me.”
“Don’t worry. I’m no saint either. I’m pretty hungry myself now.”
After enough food to stop her stomach complaining, Casey picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. She consciously had to stop her hand from shaking.
“Here’s to us—we may never have met if the world hadn’t sort of ended. And thanks for dinner.”
Flynn raised his glass in reply. “Yes! Here’s to us and whatever the future holds. Bottoms up!”
He started to down his juice as Casey did the same. She lifted the glass up and drank the lot in one go.
“Come on, Flynn. Don’t be out-drunk on juice by a girl.”
Flynn downed his whole glass.
It was Casey’s turn to smile.
The conversation continued, and Casey noted he never brought up his wife again. She stayed as amicable as she could and kept her hands low so he couldn’t see them shaking.
After fifteen minutes of eating and talking, Flynn’s elbow slipped on the table.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Of course. Eat up. You’ll need lots of energy for what’s coming up.”
“You mean me driving north?”
“Well, I might have some other plansss…”
Casey faked a concerned look. “You sure you’re okay? You’re starting to slur your words.”
“You bitshhh. You swisshed da juice.”
It was obvious he was having trouble keeping his head up.
“Yup, and our meals, too, just in case.”
Belying his semiconscious state, Flynn launched himself over the table at Casey, hands out in a grab.
Casey stood up straight away and pushed the table as hard as she could toward him, winding him at the least.
As Flynn fell to the floor, she ran for the lounge, grabbed her bag without stopping, and opened the front door. She could only hope he hadn’t slashed her tires or disabled her truck somehow.
A thought came over her—what if he had taken her keys without her knowing?
She squeezed her pocket while running down the stairs and felt a familiar lump under her fingers.
After opening the door of her truck, she threw her bag across to the passenger’s seat in time to see Flynn coming out of the house with a rifle.
He took aim, but she could see the barrel waving all over the place in the light from the porch. A shot rang out, but she felt nothing. Casey started her truck and reversed as quickly as she could away from the house. She spun the truck around, and in her mirror could see Flynn lining up for another shot from the top of the stairs.
A crack rang out, and a hole appeared in her windscreen to her left. While it was two feet from her, it was still far too close.
She rammed the truck into gear and floored it. In her mirror she saw Flynn fall down the stairs. Part of her wanted to check on him, and the other, bigger part wanted him to break a leg.
“Break a leg, ha! Freaking small-town actor trying to drug me. You aren’t the only good actor, mate.”
Casey drove as fast as she safely could out to the main road, making sure she was taking the right turns to make her way back to State Highway 4. It was a lot harder to stay on the right roads now it was dark. She constantly checked her mirror, but no cars appeared behind her. She was fairly sure he would be unconscious by now, but you never knew. She’d watched too many movies where the baddie seemed to make a miraculous comeback.
At long last she made it back to the highway, and turned left to go north. She would have preferred to go back to State Highway 1, but after what had just happened she was more concerned about getting away as quickly as possible than backtracking south to get to the main highway.
Casey drove on quickly, watching for crashed trucks all the time. It was now full dark, and the last thing she wanted to be doing was driving in this weird world at night.
She smacked the steering wheel. “Fuck! That was far too close. I’ve got to be more careful with anyone I meet. Could easily be more psychos out—shit!”
As she rounded a sharp bend, a huge tree had fallen across the road. She slammed hard on the brakes, and brought her truck to a halt just short of it.
Flynn?
While she doubted he had done this, there were no guarantees.
She got out of her truck and surveyed the roadside as best she could in the headlights of her truck. There was no way around it—a river on one side, and a high bank on the other.
She’d have to backtrack and take the main highway after all. She wasn’t about to waste time trying to find another way.
Casey got back in her truck, turned it around, and headed toward National Park. Surely Flynn would not be there?
As she approached National Park, she increased her scanning of the sides of the road in case he lay in wait.
A sense of relief came over her as she turned left to go past the majestic Mount Ruapehu, and toward State Highway 1.
She was safe.
Chapter Twelve
Amy sat looking at her phone. She wasn’t the last one left alive, but it sure still felt like it.
Now that she had hung up from Casey’s Facebook call, she again felt totally alone.
At least she had something she had to do. Casey had mentioned some sort of weird shimmering thing at a JET gas station. With nothing else to do, a fifteen-minute walk to the JET would be no problem.
Putting her phone in her jeans’ pocket, she stood and walked to the front door of their—her—apartment. Taking the chain off the door reminded her that Brad, her boyfriend, was now gone. Or at least somewhere maybe, but not with her.
She walked over to the lifts and paused, her finger hovering over the ‘down’ button. Casey had mentioned a power cut in New Zealand. What if she got stuck in the lift? She’d be dead in a week.
Stairs it is, then.
Amy got to the ground floor, puffing. Twenty-two flights of stairs did that to you, even going down. Maybe with this end-of-world stuff happening she’d finally lose those last ten pounds.
She went outside and started walking the city streets south toward the JET. It was still difficult to get over there not being a single car or person. She couldn’t even hear a bird, not even those winged rats they call pigeons.
Left and right she saw crashed taxis and delivery trucks. To save her state of mind, she kept her eyes straight ahead. But it was difficult to imagine what her future would be, or even if she had a future.
Her pace slowed more and more. Halfway to the gas station, she sat on a bus stop bench.
Amy put her face in her hands and cried hard. This was too much. How on earth could she survive on her own with nobody around? How long would food last? She’d love to be with Casey—or anyone—but it wasn’t exactly like she could catch a flight over to New Zealand. She sat bawling, wishing she’d taken up her father’s offer to learn to sail a yacht with him. At least that would have given her a way to get there.
Her mind shot to her mum and dad—they were cruising somewhere in the Pacific on the yacht he’d built, and had been away for the last five months. Or were they? Maybe they had disappeared, too. The loneliness sank just that little bit more into her heart.
She had always had someone around to look after her, but here she was, alone in Melbourne.
There was no one.
After a time, the tears stopped flowing.
She stood and walked on slowly, letting out an occasional sniffle. After five minutes, the JET loomed up ahead. Amy noticed the power was still on in the shops she walked past, so that was good. She wouldn’t have to do any breaking and entering, hopefully.
The JET was fifty feet away, and to her eyes looked totally normal. Nothing seemed out of place. Amy walked to the automatic doors, and they opened for her.
Inside the shop, something caught her peripheral vision—could this be the shimmering?
She turned toward it to see a man staring at her.
“Who the hell are you, lady?”
Amy stood, mouth open.
Is this real?!
“I’m, uh, Amy. Who are you?”
“That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to know!”
She looked this guy up and down. Angry face, massively long beard, long hair, and dressed in ragged coveralls. He also stank, but she wouldn’t be pointing that out.
“Okay. Well, I did tell you my name. What are you doing here?”
“I’ll ask the questions, lady. What are you doing here, and how did you get here?”
“A friend told me to come here and look for a shimmering thing she noticed in another JET gas station. That’s why I’m here.”
The man looked at her suspiciously. “A portal? Is your friend in the military?”
“Huh? No, she’s a plumber. I don’t think I want to answer any more questions unless you at least tell me your name.”
Neither spoke or moved for ten seconds. To Amy it felt like a lifetime.
The bearded man relaxed his shoulders. She was no threat.
“I guess I can tell you. It’s been a while since I’ve spoken to anyone, sorry. I’m Corporal Wiremu Kahi.”
She digested this. He was military?
“If you’re a soldier, where’s your uniform? How come you look so dirt—uh, so…not military?”
“I’ve been at this gas station for the last three years, alone. My uniform sort of fell to pieces after two years, and these coveralls were all I could find here. I’ve been having quick washes in the restroom. I probably need a shower.”
Rather too quickly, Amy answered. “Uh, yeah. Why didn’t you walk to the shops and get some new clothes? If there’s no one else around you could just take some.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m waiting for a portal to open up in this shop—at least I hope it does—so I can get back to New Zealand. If I go out of this JET, I might miss it. The shops are too far away. Only the supermarket next door is close enough.”
Amy frowned. “New Zealand? Portal? Like a ship’s portal?”
“No, not like that.” Wiremu sank to the floor and sighed. Amy followed his lead and sat down cross-legged. It seemed to her like this might take a while.
“It’s a portal that will take me back to New Zealand. I’ve been working on a project, but in the last test I found a different portal than the ones we’d been working on, and went into it to check it out. Bad idea—this is where it got me, and I haven’t moved far for the last three years.”
Amy contemplated this. It seemed too surreal to be true. But then, here he was and here she was.
“How have you survived? What about food?” Amy looked about the store. “I can see the shelves are empty but there couldn’t have been three years of food in here.”
“There wasn’t, but I’ve been sprinting over to the supermarket next door and raiding that. Most of it’s gone bad now, so I’ve been living on dried stuff for ages. I’d kill for a steak.”
Still struggling to believe this, Amy’s mind had a thousand questions. “I bet. If you’ve supposedly been here so long, how come I’ve never seen you in here when I’ve come in with my boyfriend to pay for gas?”
“You were in a different dimension—or really, I was. Now, somehow, you’re in my world. The Base World is still there, but they can’t see us and we can’t see them. We’ve had glitches in the project in the past, and I think you might be a new glitch.”
“Are you sure you should be telling me
this, corporal? They seem like military secrets or something. It’s not going to get me into trouble, is it?”
“Probably. But honestly I’m not even sure another portal will ever appear. I’m living in hope right now. The chances of us surviving this are pretty low.”
Amy closed her eyes at that statement. The ante had been upped. She needed to do whatever she could to get back to the normal world. “So that means you don’t know when this next portal will appear?”
“No idea. The tests weren’t run to a schedule, so it’s just me sitting here and waiting. How did you come through the portal? Are you with anyone?”
Amy frowned. “I didn’t do anything and didn’t go through any portal. I woke up and was alone until I saw you.”
“No portal entry? When was this? You haven’t been alone for three years?”
“No, I haven’t. It was yesterday.”
She could see his mind ticking over.
“The power came back on yesterday. It’s been off for way over two years. He stroked his long beard, thinking. “Now you turn up. Can you please stay here and keep watch? I need to sprint to the supermarket to check something but I don’t want to miss the portal.”
“I guess I can. What does it look like?”
Wiremu got up. “You’ll see it if it appears. It’s about six feet in diameter going from the floor up, and the last one was there by the restroom. I have no idea if another one will appear again, or where, but it’s my only chance to get home.”
“Sure, then, I’ll stay here. What should I do if I see it?”
As he went through the automatic doors, he called back, “Scream for me as loud as you can.”
She saw him running toward the supermarket. Amy couldn’t help but feel she was in some sort of sting operation or huge prank. He couldn’t have stayed in this gas station for three years, surely?
Mind you, his appearance and smell said yes.
She looked around the store more, waiting for a supposed portal to appear. In one corner she spied some blankets perfectly folded up, army style.
Within ninety seconds Wiremu was back, his arms loaded with bags of fresh fruit. He returned to his spot on the floor and sat. Smiling, he placed his bounty in front of him.