“You packed the bags at Anna’s, Tom, and you only packed food.”
“She didn’t—”
“I know. I’m just saying. I don’t have my pepper spray, and we don’t have any medicine. I wish we did.” It wasn’t his fault that Anna had kept most of the supplies. That woman had taken everything from her. Chris scowled.
“Shouldn’t we give our food to Maggie?”
“No,” Chris said sharply. “We don’t know if we’re staying yet. Besides, they have plenty. Adam is feeding a kitten milk. What a waste.”
“But Mum—” Spotting her scowl, he fell silent and grimaced.
Chris rubbed her head, finding the painful lump. She gingerly turned her head, massaging her tense neck muscles. The pain was easing. Moving slowly kept the nausea at bay. She brought her hand up and counted her fingers. Five.
“Should I do that test again?” Tom asked. “To check your eyes?”
Chris nodded. She wasn’t worried, but sometimes a brain bleed wasn’t noticeable until a few days after the injury. Better safe than sorry.
Not that she could do anything if her symptoms got worse.
Sitting down on the sofa, she waited for Tom to shine the torch into her eyes. Opening her eyes wide, she willed herself not to blink as the blinding light hit her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“The pupils shrink and widen,” Tom confirmed.
He moved the torch from left to right, and she followed the light without moving her head.
Tom smiled. “Your eyes are following the light.”
“Good.” Chris breathed a sigh of relief.
Tom switched off the torch and handed her a towel, and she thanked him with a smile.
“Mum?”
Chris wiped her face, then folded the towel and laid it down on the sofa. “Yes?”
“How did you know not to eat those oatmeal bars Anna made for you?”
“I just knew. She didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust her.”
“You told her sister—”
“I know what I did,” Chris snapped. She raised a hand to her mouth and mumbled an apology. “I panicked after that soldier took half our supplies. I admit that I might’ve made the wrong decision, but what’s done is done.”
Tom scowled. “Why didn’t Anna just ask us to leave? Why did she try to poison you?”
“I’m not sure.” Chris cocked her head, studying her son’s face. “Perhaps she was worried that I wouldn’t leave, or that I’d come back.”
“Will you?”
Chris frowned. “Will I what?”
“Go back.”
“I thought about it at first. I’m still quite upset. She could have hurt you. What if you’d eaten one of those bars?” Noticing Tom’s fearful expression, she forced a laugh. “Don’t worry, Tom. I’m not actually going to go back, but I would be lying if I said that the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.” She patted the spot next to her on the sofa and he sat down. “Going back and taking everything Anna owns would feel great but being here is much better. We’re safer here.”
“What’s done is done, right?” Tom whispered.
“Right.” Chris placed her hand on his. “I need to find antibiotics for Adam, and I need you to stay here and make sure he doesn’t get any worse.”
“What can I do?”
“Make sure he drinks enough. Ask Emily to make ginger tea by steeping grated ginger in boiling water. If he gets delirious, soak a pair of socks in vinegar. They’ll help cool him down.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Place a wet towel on his forehead, but don’t let him get cold.”
“Does Emily know what to do?” Tom asked, uncertainty lacing his voice.
“She does, but I need someone with a cool head who won’t panic if Adam gets worse. Just follow my instructions, and I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Tom pulled his hand back, staring at his feet. “After we left Anna’s, I wanted to run away.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his words, but she tried to keep her tone light. “Okay. Why?”
His bottom lip quivered. “I want to bury Dad.”
“I know.” Chris sank back into the sofa and wiped her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to bury him, but we couldn’t without crossing town, and Harlow was—”
“I understand.”
“Hopefully, we can go back one day soon. Together.”
“You shouldn’t be out there, Mum. Not after you got knocked out twice. What if you’re hurt again?”
“I know, but I’m the only one who knows what to look for, and we don’t have much time.” She got to her feet. “I’m so proud of you, Tom.”
A pensive look had fallen over his face, and he didn’t reply.
Chris left the barn with her stomach in knots. Tom had been honest with her and admitted to almost running away to bury Lester. He’d also followed her instructions and had kept quiet about Lester and Anna. Still, their relationship was fragile, and she had to tread carefully, or it would crumble.
And Chris couldn’t let that happen.
It was still early. Birds chirped. The air was muggy. On the horizon, streaks of orange and purple were visible across the pale blue sky.
Maggie had given her a straw hat with a wide brim, but Chris knew the July sun would make her headache worse.
She’d considered sending Maggie out with either James or Tom, armed with a list of potential antibiotics, but what if they didn’t find any, or worse, overlooked something helpful simply because it hadn’t been on the list?
Besides, Chris wanted to prove her usefulness. They needed to think of her as invaluable by the time James’ father came back. Just in case Tony decided there weren’t enough resources for so many people.
They walked along the dirt track in silence, but Chris’ mind was racing. She knew Tom would probably tell James about Lester today, and she had to tell her own version of events to make sure that everyone knew what had really happened. To emphasise that if Tom’s account differed from hers, it was because of his grief.
Nobody would suspect foul play. Nobody would look at her and wonder if she’d hurt her husband. Why would they?
Maggie had lost her own husband to the same horrible disease, and Chris wondered how to broach the subject.
Chris had created a makeshift pepper spray from cayenne pepper and lemon juice before setting out, and Maggie had taken a carving knife from her kitchen before handing Chris an axe from the shed.
Chris had pushed the handle through her belt, and she stroked the cold metal resting against her side, gripping the small spray bottle in her pocket tightly with her other hand.
“Thank you for coming with me,” Maggie said, eventually breaking the silence after they’d been walking for half an hour. “I’m so relieved someone here knows what we’re looking for. I’d make a mess of things if I went alone, and with Charlotte not here…”
“I’m worried most pharmacies will be empty. In Harlow, police officers and soldiers kept us from getting to the shops, but when I left it looked like they were abandoning the town.”
“Why?”
“I wonder if they were only there to ransack the place. Take everything, then leave.”
“Didn’t you say they were handing out supplies?”
“They gave out rations twice: once during the first week, then again a few days later, but they must have realised that there wasn’t enough food to feed everyone because that’s when they stopped. If I had been them, I’d have taken the remaining supplies for myself. Make sure my loved ones were looked after.” Chris studied Maggie’s face, gauging her reaction.
Maggie held her gaze for a moment, then shrugged. “Selfish but understandable.”
Chris sighed. “It’s not as if my actions would change the outcome for anyone. There’s no point in even trying to feed over sixty million people with everything cut off.”
“And now? What happens now? What happens to the people?”
“I don’t know.”
A sad smile played on Maggie’s lips. “I’m not sure the farm is completely self-sufficient, but hopefully if we all put in the work…”
“It must be hard work to run a farm. Can it be self-sufficient by the time winter sets in?”
“Depends on how many more people turn up. Tony has extended family. His ex-wife, James’ mother…” Maggie’s voice trailed off, and she sighed. “Tony went looking for her right after it happened, but she wasn’t at home. Poor James. Hopefully, he’ll find her this time.”
They finally reached the edge of the dirt track, paved road stretching out in either direction before them. Maggie turned left. Pillars of smoke stretched into the sky in the distance, reminding Chris of the fires in Harlow.
Before following Maggie, she looked around, listening for any signs of movement. But there was nothing. Ignoring the pain in her head, she jogged to catch up with Maggie.
Two cars stood abandoned in the middle of the road. Behind them, a third one was still on fire, black smoke rising from the bonnet.
“We all have family,” Maggie continued. “Harry has extended family too. And, as you so rightly pointed out, what if the people in the surrounding villages come knocking?”
“Do they know about the farm?”
“Do they know about the farm?” Maggie chuckled. “There’s a big sign on the main road saying we sell vegetables, fruit and eggs. Tony said he’d take it down.”
“What will you do if people come knocking?”
“I don’t know.”
Chris considered her next words carefully. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to make things harder for you. Tom kept asking to see James, and I didn’t know where else to go.”
Maggie shook her head. “Tom is basically family. They’re like brothers.”
“Yes, but he’s another mouth to feed and so am I.” Chris wiped her eyes as if upset at the thought.
Maggie patted Chris’ arm. “It’s okay, love.”
Chris squeezed out a tear. She thought of Lester’s body. His blood seeping into the sheets. The look on Tom’s face. “My husband—” Taking a deep breath, she tried to think of how to say it, her steps faltering.
“What happened, love?” Maggie reached for Chris’ hand and squeezed it gently. “Lester, right? I met him at Steve’s funeral, I think.”
“He—” Chris gripped Maggie’s hand as if asking for reassurance. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He killed himself. Not even a week after the EMP. He’d been struggling with depression for so long. Therapy, medication, it had been an endless battle. He lost his job a few months ago, and then everything just fell apart.”
Maggie pulled her into a hug, and Chris let it happen. The other woman smelled of manure, sweat and smoke. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Is Tom okay?”
Chris sniffled, shaking her head. “He blames me. Says I didn’t do enough.” She sobbed, taking a step back and buried her head in her hands. She considered dropping to her knees. Too dramatic. “And he’s right. He’s right, you know. I was working two jobs to pay the bills, and it was just too much.”
“Oh, love. You did your best. Don’t worry about Tom. He’ll understand once he’s older. It’s normal, you know. He has no one else to blame. He doesn’t know what to do with his grief. That’s what us mums are here for, love. The kids always blame us for mucking up. It’s part of the job description.”
“Do you have children?”
“Two. A son and a daughter. Laura is in Edinburgh, doing her bachelor’s degree in art history, and Carl moved to California with his wife a few years back.”
“You must miss them a lot.”
“I do, but we’ll get through it. You’ll see. Tom is family. I promise it’ll be okay.”
“Thank you.” Chris exhaled slowly. “I can help you prepare for winter, you know.”
“We’ll have to make sure we can keep everyone warm.”
“We’ll need enough firewood. Do the toilets still work?” Chris asked.
Maggie’s brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“We were using a bucket to flush the one at my friend Anna’s, but as the sewage plants don’t work anymore, it’ll eventually start backing up.”
“Oh,” Maggie chuckled. “That’s what Harry meant when he said he’s building us an outside toilet.”
“I’m sure he knows what he’s doing, but I’ll speak to him. Just to make sure.”
“Why? What’s the issue?”
“Oh, things like cholera, but if he’s done it before, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Maggie paled. “Is cholera something that we have to worry about?”
Chris nodded. “If we accidentally contaminate the groundwater, cholera is the least of our worries. Even if we find antibiotics today, we’ll run out eventually. It’s not like anyone is making new ones.”
“How did they make them back in the day?”
“I don’t know,” Chris admitted. “But it’s something we can look into. If there is a library nearby?”
Maggie nodded. “Do you think someone will end up fixing the grid?”
“I don’t know, but even if they can, it might take years.” Chris’ head was spinning with random information. She had to make herself useful—indispensable. “We’ll need to learn about natural remedies against fever and infections to make sure the flu doesn’t kill us next winter.”
Maggie cupped her hand to her mouth and sighed.
“It’s only July,” Chris said softly. “We have time to prepare. We’ll be fine.” She squeezed Maggie’s hand again. “Don’t worry, Maggie. We’ll make it work. We’ll keep the kids safe.”
A shadow clouded Maggie’s eyes. “The kids…”
“Do you think yours will come home?” Chris hesitated, then added, “Probably not the one living in California. Carl, right?”
Maggie smiled. “Laura might try, but it doesn’t sound safe, so…” Her voice trailed off. “But it wouldn’t surprise me if she suddenly showed up.”
“We’ll have to keep ourselves occupied. It’s easy to slip into depression after such a traumatic event. Without distractions like Netflix and social media, and without next day delivery and takeaways—”
“Don’t forget hot showers.”
Chris laughed. “And central heating.” Her expression turned serious. “Some people will struggle to adjust.”
“I know.”
Maggie pointed at a row of houses in the distance. “We’re nearly there. Who knows, perhaps we’re lucky?”
“We deserve a lucky break.” Chris felt more hopeful now that she’d told Maggie about Lester.
Bees swarmed around a berry bush, and she thought about how quickly everything had changed. On a day like this, she and Lester would take Tom to the seaside for the day and they’d share a giant portion of fish and chips. They’d hide their chips from the circling seagulls, laughing. Chris felt a twinge in her chest and sighed.
Hope swiftly turned into despair as they reached the village. The pharmacy’s glass shop front had been shattered. Broken glass littered the street. The door was intact, locked. Wood had splintered from the frame, as if someone had tried to break in before giving up and breaking the window instead.
Drops of blood dotted the floor behind the window where someone had climbed over the broken glass and cut themselves.
Chris peeked inside.
A man was draped over the counter as if folded in half, a pocketknife stuck in his neck. His blood had trickled down the counter, forming a thick puddle on the linoleum floor.
Maggie clasped a hand over her mouth. “That’s Ron. The pharmacist. He lives—lived up the road.”
Chris placed her hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “We need to get inside. Are you all right?”
Maggie nodded and with Chris’ help climbed through the broken shopfront.
“Stop right there,” a voice said, and both women froze.
A man emerged from the backroom, dragging a packed suitcase behind him. “Don’t come any closer.
”
13
Anna took both their backpacks to the kitchen where she placed them on the table.
Sarah followed, grimacing at the chaos in the kitchen.
Gus and Nellie had opened every drawer and emptied their contents onto the floor. The air smelled foul—something was clearly rotting in the fridge, the stench leaking out from the open door.
Sarah shut it with her foot and scowled. “Whatever’s still in there has probably grown a pair of legs by now.”
Anna chuckled. “It’s definitely too late for you to pickle it or whatever it is that you do.”
“Are you making fun of my food preserving skills?”
With the tension fading, hysterical laughter bubbled up in her chest, and Anna let out a giggle. “No. I’d never make fun of you. It’s just—”
“What?”
Oreo tilted his head and gave a playful bark.
“You tell her!” Anna said, wiping her eyes. “Every Christmas you”—Anna switched to a deliberately posh-sounding accent—“come bearing fancy hampers filled with jars of jam and chutney.” She giggled, falling back into her Essex accent. “And let’s not forget those weird pickled eggs.”
Sarah’s face fell. “You don’t like my pickled eggs?”
Anna was still giggling. “They’re disgusting. I’m sorry. But you were so proud the first time you gave me a jar, and I didn’t want to disappoint you—”
“So you pretended to like them?” Sarah playfully smacked Anna’s arm, but then her face grew serious. “You look like a right mess with that giant yellow bruise on your temple.”
“I’m pretty sure that your face is worse.” Anna gingerly touched her sister’s nose, running her fingers along the cartilage and bone. “Does this hurt?”
Sarah winced. “It does, but I don’t think it’s broken.”
Anna opened a bottle of water and grabbed a clean kitchen towel from a drawer.
“Get the bucket, don’t waste drinking wa—”
“Sarah, I’m trying to clean an open wound. I’m not washing your face with rainwater. Sit down.” Anna waited for Sarah to sit, then cupped her sister’s chin in her hand and gently wiped her face. Once she’d removed the crusted blood, she smiled. “Much better. Wait here.”
Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 2 | Darkness Falling Page 11