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The End of Everything Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3]

Page 6

by Artinian, Christopher


  When Robyn got no reply, she headed into the living room. There was no sign of her in there either. She started to get an uneasy feeling, the kind a dog gets when it’s delivered to the boarding kennels with its favourite toy, and it just stands there watching its owners climb back into the car and drive away. She ran through the house and into the garden. Makeshift repairs had been done to the fences, but there was no sign of her sister. She went into the garage. “Wren?” she whispered, but there was no sign. “She’s left me. She’s gone without me.”

  Robyn sat on the white garden chair. The sun beat down as it rose higher and higher into the sky. On any day when the world had not just fallen into the depths of hell, life would have been good. But today, the bright sun and the warm breeze went unappreciated. “I can’t believe she’s left me.”

  chapter 7

  Alook of pure elation adorned Wren’s face as she loaded the second bag with tins and packets of food. She had not finished by a long way, but there were enough supplies in these cupboards to keep them going for a few weeks, at least. She would not be able to get it all back in one journey. In fact, she would probably have to make several trips, but food was most definitely ticked off the list now. She lifted the bag off the surface and realised there was no way she would be able to get over the fence carrying it, so she removed a few of the tins until the weight was not so prohibitive. She placed the carry strap over her head and shoulder, picked up the hammer and went through the house to the back door. She opened it slowly and peeked out. All clear. Wren climbed over the first fence and kept her eyes glued to the windows of her neighbour’s house as she walked through the garden to her own fence. She took the bag from her shoulder and pushed the bulk of it over, keeping tight hold of the straps. She lowered it until she could reach no further, then let it drop as carefully as she could. It made a crunching sound as it landed in one of her mum’s soft flower beds.

  Wren took hold of the top of the fence and pulled herself up. She let out a small gasp of surprise as she saw Robyn standing there, holding a javelin in her shaking hands.

  “Wren!” Robyn cried, dropping the javelin and running towards her sister as the young athlete landed next to the dropped bag. Robyn threw her arms around Wren and squeezed her. “I thought you’d left me.”

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  “I woke up and there was no sign of you, and you’d filled all those bowls and things with water. And put all the food out.”

  Wren picked up the bag and the two of them went into the house. “I wouldn’t leave you. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  “I thought maybe you realised you were better off by yourself.”

  “No...course not. But we need to work together, Bobbi, starting now. I’ve found a load of food next door but one. It will keep us going for weeks. It’ll take me half the time to get it here if you give me a hand.”

  Robyn looked at the bag. “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t understand what?” Wren asked, as she opened the door and carried the bag through to the kitchen.

  Robyn followed her. “I don’t understand. This morning you were all for us getting out of here, now you’re talking about having enough food to last us weeks.”

  Wren placed the bag on a stool and began to pile up the food next to their own meagre supply. Robyn watched as packets of biscuits and instant mashed potato, tins of beans and spaghetti, jars of hot dogs and all sorts of other foods that made her mouth begin to water came out of the bag.

  “We can’t stay here forever, but after this morning I realised heading out the way we were was going to get us killed sooner rather than later. As far as fighting goes, I don’t have any technique at the moment. I’m going to train myself how to fight, the way I train myself how to do anything.”

  “You are such a nerd.”

  “Yeah, well, nerd or not, you’re going to train too.”

  “Dream on.”

  “We’re going to have to learn how to fight, or we’re not going survive.”

  “I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Robyn said, beginning to get back to her usual snarky self.

  “Okay. You can love these things to death the next time one of them tries to attack you. I’m going to learn how to defend myself so when we head out again, we’re in better shape.”

  “Right now, I’m not even thinking about heading back out there.”

  “Whatever. First things first. We’ll get the rest of this food. Will you at least help me do that?”

  “I suppose.”

  Wren gave Robyn a look bordering on disdain before rolling her eyes and heading back out with the empty shopping bag. Her sister followed her. Wren put the white garden chair next to the fence again, and now, conscious of the fact that Robyn was coming with her, got hold of another, and lifted it over the fence, lowering it down onto the other side.

  “We need to stay quiet. We don’t know who or what could be around.”

  “Well, duh!”

  Wren gave Robyn another look before heading over the fence once more. Robyn followed her, struggling less with the tall fence now there were steps on either side. Within less than a minute, the pair of them were back in their neighbour’s kitchen, loading more food into the bags. “Don’t overfill them,” Wren said, “We don’t want them too heavy to lift over the fence.”

  “Water’s wet. Snow is cold. Fire is hot,” Robyn replied.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, I thought we were stating the obvious to each other for no reason.”

  “Why do you have to be such an utter bitch?”

  “Where do you get off always thinking you can tell me what to do?”

  The two of them fell silent, filling the bags and ferrying them back home. On the final journey to the neighbour’s house, Wren took out all the bowls and jugs as she had at her own house.

  “We can’t carry all those back home, we’ll spill it all trying to get over the fence.”

  “Duh!” Wren said this time. “We’ll have a supply of water here just in case anything happens.”

  Robyn did not respond, she did not want to know what her sister meant by anything, but a look of understanding swept over her face. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly one p.m. “I’m famished,” she said.

  “I just want to have a look around to see if they’ve got anything else we can use, then we’ll have some lunch.”

  “Anything else to use? Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they’ve got a camp stove or something. Can’t do any harm to look.”

  The two girls went through the house room to room, checking every drawer and cupboard. Robyn took a couple of Catriona’s tops that she liked the look of, as well as a nail painting kit. “Seriously?” Wren asked.

  “It’s not like there’s going to be anything good to watch on TV.”

  Wren shook her head. “How about picking up a book and learning something?”

  “Don’t worry, I already know how to be a boring nerd who has no friends. So come on, show me what you got.”

  Wren had put everything she had found into a pillowcase. She’d found plasters, antiseptic ointment, painkillers, bandages, a sewing kit, batteries, two small torches and candles. “Oh, and I found this too,” she said, breaking out into a wide smile and pulling an odd-looking contraption with wires and connectors from the case.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s a solar charger for our phones.”

  “Oh my god! Tell me it’s got the connector we need for ours. Tell me, please!”

  “It’s got connectors for most phones by the look of it, but yes, it’s got the one for ours.”

  “Oh my god!” Robyn said again. She took the solar charger and examined it more closely.

  “C’mon. Let’s get all this stuff back and we’ll get something to eat.”

  Robyn was suddenly a lot more buoyant as they made the final journey back home. They got into the house and she im
mediately ran up the stairs with the solar charger and hooked it up to her mobile phone, taking it and the charger out onto the landing and placing it in the window overlooking the back garden. “Wren!” she called.

  “What?” Wren asked walking to the bottom of the stairs.

  “Come see if I’ve done it right.”

  Wren had a jar of olives in one hand and a tin of rice pudding in the other, but this was the happiest she’d seen her sister in the last two days and maybe, just maybe, if she could maintain her levity for a while, her sister might stop being such a bitch.

  Wren placed the jar and the can down and adjusted the small solar panels and checked the connector was firmly in the phone. “Yep, all set up. It won’t be as quick as a plugin, but at least it will charge.”

  Robyn smiled. “Thanks,” she said, and the two of them headed down the stairs to have lunch.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  After lunch, Robyn went back upstairs while Wren began to put all the food away in the cupboards. There was very little surface space with all the water bottles and bowls, and although that had not been an issue when she had gathered together the small amount of food from their own cupboards, now they had a proper supply, it was.

  It reminded her of when they had gone to get the Christmas shopping that time they were having twelve people for Boxing Day dinner. Dad had brought in a never-ending succession of carrier bags from the car. Wren finished putting the last bits and pieces away before reaching across for her project book. She proudly ticked the food entry. Another mission accomplished.

  She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking around the kitchen. Things were a little brighter now. They had food, and they had water for the time being; it had been a good day’s work. There had been no screams or shouts from outside like there had the previous day. They lived on a quiet, long, cul-de-sac, and there was no logical reason an army of savage creatures would descend upon them unless they were in pursuit of someone. It was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but maybe they could last out here, long enough for Wren to figure out what she needed to figure out.

  She headed to the back garden again and picked up one of the javelins leaning against the outside wall. The internet had gone down some time before the power clicked off the previous day. What she would not give now for a Teach Yourself Bojutsu! video, or better still, a book about it. As she stood there in the afternoon sun, she realised how futile it was to think that she could learn something it took people years to master, but then she remembered the advice she had given to her sister the previous day. Outline your objectives. There was just one simple objective, and that was not to die. Really, the only two surefire ways of achieving that were A: avoid the reanimated creatures completely, or B: kill them...again. Wren looked down at the javelin in her hand. Throwing it was the easiest thing in the world for her; it was one of her best events in the heptathlon, but using it as a spear, or fighting pole, was going to require a different mindset.

  She stood with her legs apart and got used to the feel of the long metal spear in both hands. She passed it from left to right, over and over, then swept it through the air. It made a whooshing sound like the hockey stick had earlier that day. She took it back in both hands and thrust it forward and up, imagining she was driving it through the head of one of the creatures. Earlier that day, her hands had been shaking as she came face to face with one. That was only natural, she told herself. It was the first time, and with everything that had happened, it was madness to think she could just pick up a weapon and become a zombie slayer.

  She strode forward and thrust again, then again, then again. She spun around, imagining she was in some Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon sequel, and thrust again, strode forward, then thrust again. The javelin was very light in her hands, and the more she held it, the more she used it, the more it just felt like an extension of herself. This time when it came to turning, she swept the javelin round slicing the air and making that satisfying sound once again. She carried out this regimental exercise more than a dozen times before pausing. She looked towards the washing line. It was all well and good having imaginary foes to battle in her head, but if she was going to achieve accuracy in a real-life situation, she was going to need targets to fine-tune her skills.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Robyn was looking forward to her phone charging so she could zone out again with some of her favourite music. She was not going to listen to Queen for a while. She realised their songs would act as a trigger and just make her emotional. She wanted to grieve, but Wren’s attitude was freaking her out. The whole: we need to get organised, we need supplies, we need to train thing just made her feel hollow, sad, a little sick, and a little angry. Their parents had died. The world was coming to an end; it was right to grieve. It was natural. But Wren had gone into some kind of mad overdrive. She had always been weird, but now she was acting much weirder than usual.

  Robyn looked out the window. Two doors down on the other side of the road, she noticed that the curtains were all closed, just like in their own house. Surely that meant there were people alive in there, too. More to the point, she knew the eldest son was a year older than her and really hot. If it came to repopulating the planet, Robyn was more than happy to give it a go with him. It would be for mankind and stuff. She allowed herself a small smile.

  Just then, she saw the curtains in one of the bedrooms twitch a little before being pulled to one side. From what she could make out, it was one of the younger brothers. The curtain closed again as quickly as it had opened and everything went still. Robyn moved her head closer to the window and looked farther down the street. There were a couple more houses with closed curtains. This was good. She could not see past the bend, but it was a sign of life. The road they lived on was made up entirely of old, brick-built semi-detached dwellings. Some had garages attached, some did not. Some had enclosed front gardens, some had open driveways, but all of them had back gardens that were inaccessible without going through the house or opening a tall wooden side gate. None of the back gardens were visible from the road, and certainly not on her side of the street; the rear of the surrounding houses looked out over McIntyre’s field. There were plenty more dangerous places to be.

  Robyn went out onto the landing and looked at the solar charger. God, how long is this thing going to take? Then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw Wren in the back garden, dancing around with a javelin.

  “Seriously? What a dork.”

  She went downstairs and headed out into the back garden as Wren thrust her javelin into a pair of her father’s overalls she had put up on the line.

  Robyn continued to watch her for a moment. “It’s the head you have to aim for. What good is that going to do?”

  “I’m all out of heads,” Wren said, “I’m just building up my accuracy right now.”

  “Oh yeah? How’s that working out for you?” Robyn asked with a snarky grin on her face.

  “Pretty good,” replied Wren, not rising to the bait.

  “The Donovans have got their curtains closed. I saw one of the younger brothers looking out earlier.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you think we should go across?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, y’know, other survivors. We might be able to help each other.”

  “We don’t need help. We’ve got food, we’ve got water, we’ve got weapons. The Donovans don’t strike me as thinking types; where would the benefit be to us?”

  “The benefit would be that if something happened, we’d have people who could help us.”

  “Look. If you want to go over there. Go over there. I don’t want them here. I don’t want anything to do with them. I don’t like the Donovans, especially Carl. He’s an idiot, and he’s not a nice person. None of them are nice people.”

  Robyn stood there pouting. “There are other houses with closed curtains, too.”

  “Great,” Wren replied, as she thrust and swiped at the mid-section of the
overalls.

  “Don’t you want to make contact with some of them at least?”

  “Why?”

  “God you’re impossible,” Robyn said, storming off. “I hate you sometimes.”

  Wren gave her a sideways glance as she unleashed another flurry of stabs on the boiler suit.

  chapter 8

  Wren had been training in the garden for two hours. She headed back into the house and went upstairs to the bathroom. She turned on the cold water tap which coughed and spluttered, releasing a few spits of water, and then nothing.

  “Dammit,” Wren said. She turned the hot water tap onto a trickle. She knew they would have a full tank until it ran dry. She stripped down, released a few inches of water, and had the best wash she could in the sink before changing into some fresh clothes. She neatly folded her tracksuit; it was not going to smell great after a few more training sessions, but laundry was not really going to be an option.

  Robyn’s door was closed, and Wren hovered outside for a moment before going in. Her sister was stood at the window, looking down the street. “The water’s gone off,” Wren said.

  “Shit! Already?”

  “Yeah. You’d think it was the end of the world or something.”

  “At least we’ve got a good supply.”

  “For the time being. It won’t last forever.”

  “This is Scotland. It never stops raining.”

  “True. Are you going to go over?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” she said, looking down towards the van that had gone through their neighbour’s front room.

  “Every time we go out, it will be a risk.”

  “Duh! I figured that out this morning.”

  “If you think it’s worth the risk heading over there, then you go over. But you put both of us in danger by doing it.”

 

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