The World After (Book 3)

by Ryan Casey

  “Holly!”

  I rushed over to her, heart racing. Sickness filled my body. The hairs on my arms stood on end. Suddenly, everything around me—the smells of damp, the taste of rot in the air—all of it just merged together into a sickening, gut-punching blow.

  Holly was unconscious.

  I lifted her up carefully. Her eyes were closed, but they were twitching a little. Relief filled my body when I saw her eyelids moving slightly. Because at least that meant she was alive. At least it meant she wasn’t dead.

  But she was in a bad state, I could see that. Pale skin. Thinner than was safe.

  I had to get her some food and water.

  But before that, I had to wake her up.

  “Holly,” I said.

  I put a hand on her head and stroked her hair. My jaw was shaking. Adrenaline surged through my body and wouldn’t stop.

  All I could think about was the shock I’d felt when I’d turned around and seen her in that unconscious state.

  All I could think about was the sense of loss that had filled me, and how I couldn’t bear to come to terms with that feeling ever again.

  I held Holly close to me. “Please wake up,” I said. “Please.”

  But she didn’t wake up.

  She was totally still. Barely even breathing. Heart beating, but only really slowly.

  I just sat there with her in my arms. I didn’t know what to do or how to react to this situation. Mostly, my response was one of denial. Denial that anything was wrong with Holly. Denial that we were in this mess. Denial that we were without food, without water, without hope.

  Lionel leaned on my lap and whined a little. And as we sat there, the three of us, in somebody else’s kitchen, I thought about how beautiful what we had was. How I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not even…

  Shit.

  It felt wrong to think it, but for the first time in my life, I found myself thinking something I’d thought was impossible.

  And that was that I wouldn’t trade what I had right now for a thing… even Harriet’s revival.

  Because this was my present now.

  Holly was my present.

  And I wasn’t going to give up on her.

  “Holly,” I said, my voice cracking. “I… I know you’re unconscious. But if you can hear me, I just want you to know that… that I’ll do anything for you. I’ll do anything to keep you alive. To keep you safe. And I—I want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be by your side. I’ll never let you go.”

  I looked down at her, half-expecting—hopefully—that her eyes would be open and staring back up at me, that little smile on her face.

  But she was still unconscious.

  I saw what I had to do then. I was going to have to find some food or water for Holly. If I wanted her to come around, I had to do my duty.

  But at the same time, we’d searched this entire neighbourhood—with no luck.

  Unless…

  I lifted Holly up and walked outside, Lionel following me closely.

  I looked down the road at the cars, abandoned.

  What if some of them still had some kind of food or water inside?

  This wasn’t a well-populated place. There was a chance that looters and scavengers hadn’t quite hit everywhere.

  It had to be worth a try.

  I considered putting Holly down while I searched, but I couldn’t bring myself to take that risk. I looked in the first car, a blue Toyota, but there was nothing. Then I looked inside a grey Honda and a green Renault. Again, nothing.

  “It’s okay,” I said, gasping as I struggled for breath. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I tried more cars, but I was fast running out. There were only two left. There had to be something in there, or I was going to have to search up on the motorway, and I didn’t hold out much hope.

  I looked in the penultimate car—or rather, a small white minivan.

  On the dashboard, there was a Ginsters pasty.

  It had rotted long ago.

  I punched the front of the van. Then I fell to my arse and leaned back against it, looking up at the cloudy sky, an unconscious Holly right beside me.

  “Why won’t you just give something?” I asked. “Why won’t you just give me some hope?”

  I stared up and begged for something—anything—a little longer.

  Then I realised Lionel wasn’t beside us.

  My heart felt like it stopped. I went still.

  “Lionel?”

  When I stood up, I saw where he was.

  Lionel was right behind the van. He was sniffing at something.

  A black rucksack.

  I walked over to it, slowly, Holly still over my shoulder. My heart started to pick up.

  “What’ve you got, lad?” I asked.

  He kept on nudging at it, like there was something inside.

  I unzipped the bag.

  And when I saw what was inside, I couldn’t help smiling.

  There was a large box of dog biscuits.

  A packet of pigs ears.

  And a bowl for drinking from.

  Just as I saw it, rain started to sprinkle from the clouds above.

  “What’s… Where…”

  I heard a voice and everything else drifted into the background.

  Holly was awake.

  “Holly,” I said, hugging her tightly.

  She looked around, confused, as the rain fell down heavier. “Where are we? Who… Where…”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You’re okay now. I got us some food. I got us some water. We’re going to be okay.”

  I saw the way Holly looked me in the eyes and I knew she believed me.

  Then, I looked up at the clouds, and I smiled.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  I rested Holly back against the side of the van, opened the rucksack some more and rested the bowl out for rain to collect in.

  Then, I grabbed the dog biscuits.

  I’d never been more excited to eat stale dog biscuits in my life.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Later that night, we sat around a small fire and we gorged on our dog biscuits.

  I had to admit, they didn’t taste quite as bad as I’d been expecting. Although perhaps that was something to do with just how starving I was.

  I looked over at Holly, her face lit up in the glow of the fire. We were down a bridle path just a few miles away from the road we’d found our lucky bag. There’d been a lighter in the bag, too. Honestly, that bag was a miracle. I’d prayed for some kind of hope and as far as I was concerned, I’d got it.

  Now we just had to make the most of what we had.

  It was cold, as usual, but the fire helped. The bridle path we were down was dark and overgrown, very secluded, which was just how I liked it. Just to be on the safe side, we’d made sure to make the fire right in the middle of the path so we were away from the rest of the trees and plants. Every now and then, I saw the glowing eyes of animals watching us, and I felt like we were totally at one with nature.

  It would be really quite beautiful if it weren’t the end of the world as we knew it.

  Lionel didn’t look best pleased that he hadn’t managed to snag all those dog biscuits to himself. Every time I lifted one out, he raised his paw, looking mortified when Holly or I ate them. I gave him his fair share, of course, as well as a few pigs ears. But as everyone well knows, fair share in human terms and fair share in dog terms are different things entirely.

  “You feeling okay?” I asked.

  Holly looked up at me and smiled. She had dark circles under her eyes. Her skin was pale. But she looked healthier than she had when she’d passed out. She must’ve been desperate for food. Fortunately, dog biscuits weren’t the worst find in the world. They were enriched with vitamins and minerals, so they weren’t as trashy as actual biscuits.

  Sure. They weren’t as tasty as, say, a chocolate digestive. But they did the trick.

  Holly nodded, then held her hands
over the fire. “Did you love Hannah?”

  I was surprised by the question. I wasn’t sure where it came from. We didn’t speak about the past much. In the early days of being alone together, sure. We’d discussed things. But our old mutual friends weren’t a topic of conversation that came up a lot anymore.

  I shuffled nervously, looking away from Holly. “Hannah was a good friend.”

  “I thought she was your girlfriend.”

  “Well,” I said, feeling my face flush. “I…”

  “Did you like her?”

  “What?”

  “Did you fancy her? Like Mrs Duggan fancied Mr Harris.”

  “I don’t know who…”

  “I think you fancied her. Which is a shame. Because she’s gone now.”

  I felt a sickness deep in the pit of my stomach. “Yeah. She is. Thanks for that, Holly.”

  “That’s okay,” she said, not understanding my sarcasm as she twiddled with the necklace around her neck. “My mum always used to say there’s plenty more fish in the sea. But I thought that was a stupid saying because people aren’t fish, are they?”

  “I’m not sure that’s quite the point.”

  “I always had a crush on Andrew Zane in school. But I didn’t think he was like a fish. I don’t think I could find another fish like him.”

  I nodded, reluctantly. I thought of Harriet, how in love with her I’d been. And then I thought of Hannah, and the bond we’d formed. “Sometimes you just learn to love that different type of fish.”

  “What? You love fishes?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s okay, Scott. We can marry each other and be happy forever and ever.”

  I laughed, and so did she. And as we sat there, around the fire, I realised this was what true friendship was. This was what being a father was. Sitting around a fire with a daughter, watching the stars.

  This was the life that I’d wanted beforehand. The life that Harriet and I were going to lead, before everything went so, so wrong.

  “Holly, if anything happens to me—”

  “But nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “I know. But—”

  “You promised.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat and smiled at her. “I’m not going anywhere. I just want you to know that if anything happens, you have to go north and follow the signs for Carlisle. You have to go there. Now I’ve promised I’ll always be here for you. But you have to make me that promise that you’ll go there, too. Can you do that for me?”

  Holly looked at the fire, fear in her eyes, like she didn’t quite appreciate the change in tone. “You’re not ill are you?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help laughing. It was just one of those silly little remarks that kids came out with, and despite the severity of what we were discussing, the absurdity of Holly’s question just tickled me no end. “No. I’m not ill. At least I hope I’m not. But you promise you’ll head to Carlisle if anything does happen. Right?”

  She was silent for a few seconds.

  Then, she nodded. “Promise.”

  I smiled back. “Good. Good.”

  And as we lay down, close to the fire, staring up at the stars, I thought about that promise I’d made her not to go away, and how I was going to do everything in my power to honour it.

  “I won’t leave you, Holly,” I said. “I won’t leave you.”

  When I looked to my left, Holly was already fast asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The boy watched the fire go out and plunge all of them into darkness.

  Part of him wanted to go over to those two people and the dog. Part of him wanted to ask them to let him join them, because he was scared, and he didn’t want to hurt anyone else, and he missed his mum and his dad and his brother and everyone.

  But another part of him reminded him what happened when children like him didn’t do as they were told.

  It reminded him of exactly what had happened to everyone he’d loved.

  And it reminded him of what B told him, and the rest of the children.

  They were the children of the new world.

  They were the future.

  And they were going to make this future theirs, together.

  He turned around, away from the man, the girl and the dog, and he headed back to the road to tell B that he hadn’t found anyone. Nobody was there. Then maybe everything would be okay. He could just pretend it was too dark to see. Or that he’d taken a wrong turn.

  But no.

  B would find out.

  And B wouldn’t be happy with him.

  He lifted the knife in his hand.

  He looked at it, closely, as the stars shone down from above.

  And then he remembered who he was now, and what he had to do.

  It was time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I saw Harriet standing in the middle of the road.

  I could see that she wasn’t going to make it to the other side. She was jogging, and she wasn’t looking to her right, where a bus was hurtling.

  I wanted to call out to her. To shout to her. To tell her to stop, or to step back. Just to get off the road.

  She looked up at me, then. Looked right into my eyes. And when she did, she smiled.

  But she didn’t have the face of Harriet anymore.

  She had the face of Holly.

  Her face turned. The bus had gone. The cars had gone. Everything had gone.

  All that was left was me and Harriet—or Holly, or whoever this was.

  “You did this, Scott,” Harriet said. Except… no. It was Hannah now. She was crying. Her tears were blood. “You left me and you did this.”

  “No!” I said.

  I ran in the direction of Hannah, Holly, Harriet. I needed to get there. I could still stop this from going down. I could save her. I could—

  Then I felt something slam into my side and I opened my eyes.

  A scream.

  It was night. The stars were still shining brightly above. I was shivering, but covered in sweat.

  It was just a nightmare.

  Nothing more than a…

  Wait.

  The scream.

  I could still hear the scream.

  My body froze. I didn’t know what to do, where to look.

  It was a child’s scream.

  Which meant…

  I looked to my right.

  Holly was still there.

  I felt a wave of relief hit me. She was okay. She was still here.

  But that scream. If it hadn’t been her, then who was it?

  I looked down the pathway, which was pitch black. I wondered if maybe it was just a figment of my imagination. Sometimes that could happen, where you were still in a dreamlike state after waking. I used to get it a lot as a kid. I sometimes heard voices when I’d woken, and I’d been convinced they were ghosts. I’d climb into my mum’s bed and she’d quieten me and reassure me that everything was okay, that there was no such thing as ghosts.

  I knew that was true, now.

  But in this world, there were far worse things than ghosts.

  And then it hit me.

  Lionel.

  Lionel was gone.

  I stood up. And if I’d been in a more wide-awake state, I wouldn’t have walked away from Holly. I wouldn’t have left her behind.

  But the urgency of the situation mixed with the grogginess of my thoughts and judgement after just waking up made me walk away from her and down the pathway.

  “Lionel!” I called. I could see him, that was the thing. I could see him right up ahead. It was dark, but he was getting excitable about something. It freaked me out.

  “Lionel, come back here,” I said. “Don’t make me ask you again.”

  But of course, Lionel didn’t come back. Whatever he could smell, whatever was getting him so intrigued was clearly something of note.

  I looked back at Holly.

  She was still there, still sleeping.

  Then
I heard the scream again.

  There was no doubting it, now. It was coming from over where Lionel was. He was jumping around, backwards and forwards. And as I edged nearer to his position, I started to wonder if perhaps it was just a child or someone who was afraid of Lionel. I’d seen what kind of animals were on the loose that had escaped zoos and the likes. Perhaps they just thought he was a wolf, or something.

  “Back off, Lionel,” I said. “Right this second.”

  He obliged. For the first time, he actually backed away. But his head was bowed. He was panting. Something was bothering him.

  I stood and stared at that spot in the hedges that he’d been so interested in. There was a small area of the plantation that looked like it had been occupied.

  There was someone in there.

  There had to be someone in there.

  I looked back over at Holly. It was dark, but I thought I could still see her, which reassured me.

  I had to get this done with.

  I had to see what Lionel was so bothered about.

  And I had to be quick about it.

  “It’s okay, lad. I’m going to sort it out.”

  I stepped closer and instinctively reached for my axe.

  My stomach turned when I realised it wasn’t there.

  That was weird. I always had it on me. I kept it handy in all situations in case I needed to use it.

  It had gone.

  Which either meant I’d dropped it.

  Or…

  No. I couldn’t consider the alternative. It wasn’t possible.

  I stood right in front of that opening in the hedges now though. I stared into it. Listened for breathing. For crying. For anything.

  I couldn’t hear a thing.

  My better judgement told me to back away. To go back to Holly and get her and Lionel far away from here, because something wasn’t right.

  But instead, I found myself leaned towards that opening, sticking my head inside it, and taking a look.

  There was nothing in there.

  I narrowed my eyes. Was it possible that I’d imagined the screaming after all? No. Lionel had been bothered about something. But what if it’d just been an animal? What if it wasn’t what I’d been expecting?

  I was about to back away when I saw something.