The Earth's End

by Tara Brown

  “You’re being serious?” He stares into my eyes.

  “Deadly serious.”

  He’s quiet in contemplation. He winces, maybe from arguing with himself. “I’m not a cold-blooded killer. I don’t think I have that in me.”

  “Likely not,” I agree. “But you are an amazing friend. Loyal to the death. You hate me. I am giving you permission to do this. And no matter what, I know you’re an ethical guy. You’re practically a saint. I’ve never been in safer hands. I need to know that if the time were to come, she would be taken care of. Even if that meant saving her from me, and herself.”

  “You don’t hate me?” he asks.

  “No. I’ve always been indifferent to you. I reserve hate for monsters. I take hate rather seriously. Part of the sickness I suffered with as a child.”

  He puts a hand out, as if that last question were a test and I passed. “Fine, I’ll be your backup plan.”

  “Thank you.” I place my hand in his and shake.

  “How will I know, if it’s happening?” he asks, while we’re still shaking.

  “Her. She will be upset and worried. She might confide in Lee who would obviously tell Erin who would tell Miles and he would tell you. Girls keep secrets in packs.” I crack a grin as I take my hand back.

  “And what if you ever come and tell me you were joking or testing me or this isn’t real?” He lifts an eyebrow over his eyes that are flooded with worry.

  “That would be a bad sign. Quite bad.” I glimpse behind me at the castle. “And if possible, I would ask for the utmost discretion on this. As in, if you ever pull your head out of the sand, and realize Lee is madly in love with you and always has been, don’t tell her about this conversation.”

  “Okay. You have my word.” He nods and takes a step back. The look in his eyes tells me I have been successful.

  “Thank you for being my life insurance policy.” I offer him a slight bow, putting a little something extra in for his ego.

  He offers me something resembling a bow in return.

  I turn around and walk to the castle, grateful he can’t see the smug grin on my lips. Another problem solved. It took me a while to realize the only way he would ever be happy for her, was if he had a different reason for watching. But also if he believed he was protecting her from the shadows. He sees himself as her guardian, always trying to protect her, never letting her stand on her own.

  The bonus is his respect for me has shot through the roof. He sees me as broken and wounded and struggling to survive my former illness. He now wants to protect me too. Because like he said, he is not a cold-blooded killer. He’s a gentleman. And he doesn’t want this over his head.

  A small part of me wishes she could see the things I do to make her happy, so she’d understand how much she means to me and what I do to ensure she has the best life with me. But the other part of me knows she never would have gone along with it.

  When I get to the castle, she’s there, speaking about something dull with someone in planning. She’s smiling and laughing as they make a joke at their own expense.

  My love for her will never fade, and I’ve made sure of that. There won’t be a single unhappy day.

  Feeling the success of that in every inch of my being, I make my way to the kids’ garden that is being closed down for winter.

  Leah and Davis wave to me from the middle of the field where he’s teaching the few kids we have here how to farm. He’s even starting a 4-H next spring to teach them animal husbandry. I didn’t pretend to know what that was when he said it. It sounded like something a few of the patients back at the institution suffered from, but I was certain I was wrong.

  Lester is with them. He stays close to Leah. And she keeps him safe. Not just from himself but from anything that might stimulate his temper. She is soothing and calming for him. Seeing him makes me sad in a strange way. He is the most altered of us all. Not entirely how he was before the bots fixed him, but he’s also no longer spouting poetry. In fact, he rarely speaks at all.

  The Littles see me and run over with Mason and Magoo hot on their heels.

  “Liam, did you see?” Joey runs over with her bulbs. “We have some flowers to plant for the winter. They live even in the snow.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive. Sort of like you lot, hard to kill.”

  “You know it,” Magoo says, flashing some new spaces where there should be teeth.

  “You’re missing some soldiers.” I point.

  “The tooth fairy even came here. In Canada!” That had to be the highlight of Leah’s entire month right there. She and Davis laugh like it might have been.

  “Maybe the tooth fairy was Canadian all along,” I add.

  “Maybe.” Magoo furrows her brow and turns back to her mom.

  “It makes sense, I mean. Who else is nice enough to give you money for teeth?” she shouts back at her daughter, still laughing.

  “Hmm.”

  “Can I speak to you, Joey?” I kneel down to her level.

  “Am I in trouble?” She narrows her eyes and asks the question all kids should ask before answering.

  “Absolutely not.” I lift my hands to show innocence.

  “Fine.” She turns and shouts at Leah, “I’ll be right back. Don’t plant without me.”

  “Okay, sweetie.” Leah waves her off.

  As I stand, Joey grabs my finger and holds tight, getting her dirt all over my hand. It’s something new in my life. Constantly being some level of dirty.

  I walk her to the far side of the yard and reach into my pocket with my free hand, pulling out a small box. “I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  “What kind of question?” she asks something she must have heard her parents say. Before.

  “Well, I want to ask Lou if she will marry me at Christmas, and I can’t ask her until I ask you. Because you’re her family, and Leah told me that if you want to join someone’s family, you have to ask them first.”

  She frowns and suddenly I am uncomfortable.

  “Marry Lou?” She wrinkles her nose. “I mean, I guess.”

  “If you don’t want me in your family, I won’t ask her. No one but you and me will even know this conversation happened.” I can’t believe this kid is turning me down.

  “It’s not you, it’s her. Are you sure?” She makes a face, and I’ve seen it before. But not from her. It was one of the expressions the nurses would get at the institution when they were concerned about your mental state.

  It brings a smile to my lips. “I’m pretty sure.”

  “Okay then.” She shrugs. “But I think I’m getting the better deal. I’m getting the king as my brother and you’re getting Lou. And she’s bossy.”

  “I have noticed that.” I fight the laugh I desperately want to have.

  “Is that it?” She glances up at me.

  “That was it.”

  “Can I go back now?”

  “Yes. Thank you for your permission.” I offer a wave but she turns and leaves without answering me.

  It didn’t go at all how I had imagined it would. I assumed she might cry, gush a bit, run around in excitement, maybe hug me. We would both be excited about the ring. She didn't even ask to see it.

  This was like her asking me for the same thing.

  She responded exactly how I might have.

  But it doesn’t matter.

  I have her permission.

  Now all I need is for Lou to say yes.

  I walk back to the castle, hoping that part goes better than this part did.

  Epilogue

  December 25th

  Lou

  This place is a lot like home in Laurel. Winter officially arrived at the end of November and it’s cold, windy, and dry. And now the town, which is becoming a city faster than we are prepared for, is always lit early with the glow of candles and lanterns. The smell of wood smoke settles in the valley, creating a wandering haze that seems to move even when there is no breeze.

  Gazing
out from the very top of the small tower, it’s obvious our efforts have paid off. We’ll make the winter and spring and be ready to start the spring harvest. The accommodations are a bit tighter, with more people living together in houses and the castle than was intended, but by summer we’ll have that taken care of.

  One thing this part of Canada seems to have an abundance of are mills with already-cut wood for building. We found trucks full of them along the highways. Same as food and other supplies.

  We’ve also been lucky with the people who live here; most are talented in something useful. And those of us who aren’t skilled, work hard physically.

  Thinking about it draws my gaze to my rough hands. Splitting wood and making bows and arrows and doing all the things my dad taught me is creating calluses everywhere.

  But every time I finish another project, I imagine he’s watching over me, knowing he gave me what I needed to survive. And to keep Joey alive.

  I hold my hand out the large window and let the snow fall on me.

  In peaceful moments like this, when my mind quiets down, I’m certain I still hear the bots plotting.

  Thinking about them brings me back to the questions I don’t have answers for, like where is Harold? Why did he leave and never come back? Did Liam kill him and not tell me?

  How did the bots suddenly heal Tanya when all along they were useless inside her? Someone said they saw lightning and heard thunder in the clouds above us and that was how the helicopter went down. Lightning. But no one knows for sure. And now we never will. We don't live in a world of answers anymore. There are no easy ways to research or Google or ask specialists.

  Also, why didn’t Mr. Milson survive? Why did he die when so many others lived?

  I think of him often, how he saved us in those first days. And I have to be happy for him because he and Mrs. Milson are together again.

  I also question whether or not we’ll be able to do this. What happens if someone comes to attack? What happens if a sickness rolls through the city? Because if I’m honest, this all feels too good to be true and we should suffer some more.

  But maybe we’ve suffered enough.

  Gus lifts his head from where he’s sleeping as if he heard something.

  “You ready?” Lee asks as she comes in still wearing her guard’s uniform. She’s in charge of them like she was before. Erin is her second in command, which is interesting in all the best feminist ways.

  “Yeah, is everyone else down there already?”

  “Liam is pacing as usual. He’s like a wild cat. A panther in a cage.” She cracks a grin. “Sasha is coming over from the clinic with Leah and Tanya’s mom any second. Other than that, I think everyone is downstairs.”

  “Our first Christmas feast,” I say it but I still don’t believe it.

  “I think it’s going to be awesome. Dinner and cider and beer.” She smiles wider when she says beer.

  “How’s Kyle?” I ask, scared of the answer. He’s been so cool lately, not at all awkward or weird. He eyes up Liam every time they’re in a room together, but it’s gotten less hateful.

  “Good.” Lee stops there.

  “No details?”

  “No, it’s weird. You and him and me and Liam. It’s weird.” Her cheeks blush.

  “It is weird.” I laugh and follow her to the door. “Come on, Gus.” I slap my leg and he slowly gets up, stretching and grumbling like a dragon.

  “But Liam gave everyone in the castle three days off, today and tomorrow and the next day. People are celebrating in their own homes. Some even have Christmas trees or Hanukkah menorahs and Kwanzaa candles. I heard a few of them managed to get ukuleles and are going to be playing music at the pub tomorrow night.”

  “Let me guess, you’re going?” I can’t stop. I don’t feel a single thing for Kyle beyond being his friend. In my strangely altered mind, he and I never happened. It’s like a dream I had that never became anything more. So I can’t help but find this exciting that the two of them are starting something.

  “Of course. Everyone is going.” She sighs. “Stop talking about it.”

  “Fine,” I grumble and follow her to the main floor where voices are echoing into the halls. We find them in the dining room, our entire family: Tanya and her mom and Mason and Mitch. Jeff and Bev. Erin and Miles. Jamie and Sasha. Leah and Davis and their kids. The Littles. Buster and Gus. Kyle and maybe Lee, if this cold winter goes right. Liam and myself. And Lester.

  “We ready then?” Liam asks from the head of the table he had drones make in the summer. It’s stunning and decorated in a way that makes me smile. I think the kids did it. Napkins are clumsily folded and placed inside wooden rings and the cutlery has the mismatched effect only a child could do.

  My eyes dart to Leah who gazes at them all with pride. She really is the best.

  Everyone takes a seat at the huge table. There’s just enough room for us all, and Lester and Davis make it so it’s a bit tight where they’re sitting.

  Liam is at one end of the table and I am at the other. It’s weird being so far apart. He smiles at me, lifting his drink. “I don't really pray, but let’s toast.”

  We all grab the mismatched glasses we stole from a Walmart in a nearby town.

  “Just over a year ago, ninety percent, by our estimate, of the world’s people died or were altered. Some of us were not affected by the outbreak. Others changed for the better.” He lifts his drink to Lester who I’m not sure understands what he’s saying. “We became slaves to these bots that infected us, some feeling the effects of them more than others.” His cheeks blush and his eyes lower for a moment. “And in the end, humanity, our actual humanity, was saved by a man who is no longer with us. That man is the reason we all sit here now. I would like to toast Dr. Jacquard, and I would ask that each of us toasts someone who made certain we made it to this moment.”

  He’s getting better and better at this. He’s truly kingly.

  He raises his glass and we all say, “Dr. Jacquard.”

  Kyle stands next. “Dr. Stoddard.” His eyes find mine. We share a smile and a memory no one else has. I’m grateful for the ability to remember my dad with Kyle.

  His name is the next one we say together.

  As it goes around the table, names of people I never knew are spoken, Louis, Grace, the old man at the gas station and Sharon. But there is one name I will always carry in my heart. Mr. Milson. He saved nearly all of us at one point or another.

  Eyes are misty and smiles are made of pressed lips by the time we sit. But the sadness doesn't last, because the gratefulness is too overwhelming.

  It’s an amazing first Christmas meal. Wild turkey. Sourdough stuffing with herbs from the garden. Yams baked with Canadian maple syrup and butter. Mashed potatoes with chunks of garlic in them. And red wine we stole from one of the liquor stores we raided at some point. There are dinner rolls and thick gravy. It’s heaven.

  If you had asked me fourteen months ago where I saw myself, I never would have said living like this. I’m not an American anymore. I’m not a Canadian. If we have guessed correctly, there’s not even a million people on the planet. Gas is becoming a thing of the past as the tanks are drained or it expires. Eventually, there will be no more stores to raid and the supplies that were made during our era will fade into memory. And we will have to be ready for that. A moment when canned cranberry sauce isn’t found covered in dust in an old store with no lights.

  We won’t always be able to pick the batteries out of every single thing we find, steal laptops from houses, or drive cars until they’re dry.

  For now it’s our life, but those last remnants of the twenty-first century are slowly fading, very slowly.

  They will eventually become nothing, relics taken back by nature. Vine and plant covered, rust from the elements destroying them, and overgrown to the point the next generations might not even see them.

  The road ahead is long and scary if I think too far. But here tonight, sitting with my family under the candleli
ght of these stunning chandeliers and with a plate full of hot food, I am grateful for the first time. I understand the term now more than ever.

  We eat and drink and laugh and I’m stuffed beyond belief by the time we have cleaned up and are blowing out the candles.

  We all kiss each other goodnight. Even Kyle and I manage a hug before he goes back to the brewery where he has made himself a small house in the back. It’s progress.

  When I’m upstairs and after I have the Littles tucked in, I sit in the window, staring out at the snowy night, brushing my hair before putting it into the braids. I have discovered braids save lives. There’s no frizz in the morning.

  It’s quiet and peaceful seeing the snow fall, especially on Christmas.

  “You ready for bed?” Liam asks as he comes into the room, but there’s something in his tone.

  “Yeah. I’m pretty full still, but definitely tired. You?”

  “I’m not tired. I should be, but there’s something I need to do first.” He walks to where I am and sits next to me. The soft glow of candlelight from across the room dances on his face.

  “What, did you forget to finish something?”

  “No, start something.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box. It’s tiny and wooden and carved. It’s not perfect so I have to assume the drones didn't do it.

  “Start what?” I ask, confused by the weird little box.

  “Start our new life.” He cracks open the box to reveal a small silver ring. It has a red stone in the middle of it and cool carvings along the band.

  I lift my gaze to his, heat rising in my cheeks as the obviousness of this moment hits me.

  There’s a story in his eyes. It’s one of hope and love and maybe fear. “Lou, I love you. I love you more than I thought I was capable of. I used to mock people like me, people who would do anything for the person they loved. I saw love as weakness, and I have never seen myself as weak. But being with you, I don't think that way anymore. I think love is strength. And you make me stronger. Will you marry me?”