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

by Artinian, Christopher

  “Like how?”

  “I don’t know just yet, but I’m thinking.”

  “Oh god.”

  “If I could figure something out where there was a minimal amount of danger involved, would you help me?” Wren asked.

  “The whole minimal amount of danger thing is kinda vague.”

  “Would you?”

  Robyn let out a sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

  Wren smiled. “He’s a good man. He knows a lot, too. He could help us get set up here, so this wouldn’t be just for him, it would be for us as well.”

  “I said I’ll think about it.”

  “I bet he knows how to brew wine and beer,” Wren said, smiling.

  “Come up with a plan, and then we’ll talk. I’m going to get changed,” Robyn said, leaving Wren alone in the kitchen to prepare the rest of the meal, and think.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Within half an hour, the cheese was crisping in the oven and the house was filled with mouthwatering aromas. Wren walked into the living room and saw that Jeb was still asleep on the couch. He was sat upright, but his head had dropped forward. He was snoring loudly and Wren stood there for a moment, smiling. He reminded Wren a little of her Grandad, George. “Jeb,” she said softly, but there was no response. “Jeb,” she said a little louder this time, but still there was no reply. She crouched down in front of him, and placed a hand over one of his. Rather than being startled, his eyes slowly blinked open and the warmest of smiles lit up his face, as if he was still dreaming the happiest of dreams. It only lasted for a moment before it disappeared again.

  “I...I thought it was my Lydia waking me up,” he said. “Just for a moment. That’s what she used to do. She used to put her hand over mine and gently call to me. You’d have liked my wife, and I know she’d have liked you.”

  “I’m sure I would have done,” Wren said. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry I drifted off. I tend to have a nap most afternoons. I suppose the events of the day just caught up with me. I’ll just go wash my hands and freshen up if that’s okay?” he said, standing up.

  “Course it is. The bathroom’s—”

  “Don’t worry, I’ve been here plenty of times before, I know where it is.”

  Wren went back into the kitchen. “Bobbi, grub’s up!” she shouted.

  Within seconds, Robyn was in the kitchen. “That smells awesome. I’m starving.”

  “I have never seen anybody move as fast when food is involved. Seriously, you could beat me at the two-hundred metres if there was pizza at the finish line.”

  Wren pulled the large dish out of the oven and placed it in the centre of the table, just as Jeb returned. “Something smells good,” he said. He leaned over and examined the dish before sitting down. “Oyster mushrooms. You went out with Isabel,” he said, smiling.

  “Yes, a couple of times,” Wren replied, spooning out healthy servings onto three plates. “Would you like a glass of wine with it, Jeb?”

  He thought for a moment. “Well, I’m not meant to, but where’s the harm now, right?” he said with a sad smile.

  Wren went into one of the cupboards and took out three wine glasses and a bottle of wine. She unscrewed the top, poured, and then raised her glass. “Here’s to you, Jeb. thank you for helping us today.”

  “Thank you, Jeb,” Robyn said. The old man looked embarrassed, but clinked glasses with them anyway.

  They ate, drank and talked. They talked about everything from Lydia, Wren and Robyn’s parents, to wine making, growing crops, building gates and fences, and after they had finished their meals, they went into the living room to sit down. They enjoyed the silence for a little while, and it was Wren who eventually broke it. “There’s nowhere else? Nowhere at all that we can get your meds?”

  “Nowhere for miles. And larger towns wouldn’t be safe,” Jeb replied.

  “Where’s Loch Uig?” Wren asked.

  Jeb’s eyes turned cold. “Why do you ask?”

  “Two men came the other day. They said Loch Uig hadn’t been affected. I bet they’ve got meds. We could go there.”

  “They came by here, you say?” his face suddenly creased with worry.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Loch Uig is much further north. It was…taken over by an army of criminals. Whoever you met from there, they weren’t what they told you.”

  “But they said they wanted to set up trade with outlying farms and villages. They traded us a half a wheel of cheese for a bucket of potatoes. They said they’d come back in a while when our crops yielded and we could trade more.” Wren said. “If they were criminals, they wouldn’t have traded; they’d have just taken.”

  “You’re a smart girl, Wren. A bucket of spuds? If you went to the supermarket, how much would a big sack of tatties cost you?”

  “I don’t know. About four pounds,” she said.

  Jeb nodded. “About that. And half a wheel of cheese? How much would that cost you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.”

  “Right. A block of cheese then. A normal cheddar, maybe four or five hundred grams?” Jeb said.

  “I don’t know. About four pounds or so.”

  “That’s right. So why would somebody give you half a wheel of cheese worth more than sixty pounds for a bucket of tatties worth a fiver at the most?”

  “Erm...I don’t know…good faith?”

  Jeb shook his head. “Maybe so the next time they show up, you welcome them with open arms, and then they can rob you blind. Trust me, the things I’ve heard about that place…”

  “I don’t understand though. The outbreak has only just happened.”

  Jeb sat back in his seat. “Here, maybe. Things have been getting bad elsewhere for months. Law enforcement and the army have been spread way too thin. The outbreaks in Leeds and Portsmouth...well the government put so many resources into trying to stop it spreading that some places practically reverted to mob rule. I’ve heard all sorts of nightmarish stories.”

  “How come there was nothing on the news about it?”

  “The government pretty much squashed the news from that first day. When they shut the ports and they shut the airports, when they quarantined us from the world, they took over the truth, too. They couldn’t afford to let people think that everything was going to hell, ‘scuse my French. But if you think about it…all that time. All those months after the rest of the world had gone up the spout, we were told things were getting better. We were told the conscription had worked, that we were producing record amounts of coal, that everything was looking up. When the outbreaks happened in Portsmouth, and then in Leeds, there was lots of coverage of how it was being dealt with. All that footage made it looked like it was a well-oiled machine. All we saw on the news right from day one was all the good stuff that the government was trying to do,” he took a drink from his glass.

  “So…this gang?” Wren said.

  “This gang is the tip of the iceberg. I heard there were lots of parts of the UK that fell into virtual anarchy. Criminal gangs took over, and because the government’s main priority was stopping the spread of the disease, they didn’t have the resources to fight it. Now, there’s just nothing left.”

  “But they talked about the army being bigger than it had ever been with all the conscripts,” Robyn interjected.

  “It was, but the conscripts were the problem in some places. They were dragged into something they didn’t want to be in. Patriotism, doing good by your fellow countrymen…that’s all just quaint notions from an age gone by.”

  “How do you know all this?” Wren said.

  A broad smile cracked on his face. “You and your sister wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try us,” Wren replied.

  “I’m a radio ham.”

  “What the pants is radio ham?” Robyn asked.

  “An amateur radio enthusiast,” Wren said.

  Jeb looked at her and smiled. “Very good, Wren, and can you tell your siste
r what it is?”

  “Erm, well, it’s where you talk into a radio and somebody from miles away hears you. Even other countries,” Wren said. “It’s like the internet, before computers.”

  Jeb smiled again. “I couldn’t have put it better myself. I found out an awful lot about what was going on.”

  “Is anybody still broadcasting?” Wren asked.

  “Well, I’ve turned it on now and again over the last couple of days. I’ve got a generator back at home and I’m having to ration its use. I’ve broadcast a couple of times, but I’ve not had any response,” Jeb said.

  The room went quiet, and suddenly the mood became much more sombre.

  “So, you like old stuff, then?” Wren said, trying to lighten things a little.

  “Eh?” Jeb said.

  “The vintage car, ham radio...I bet your house is like a museum,” she said.

  Jeb smiled. “I love that truck. It was the car I had when Lydia and I were courting,” he said with a warm smile. “I suppose I do like keeping a foot in the past, but, believe it or not, I had caught up with the modern age too. I had a computer…even had Netflix when all this went down. And I do have a van as well, but when I headed out this morning, I felt like giving Delilah a spin.”

  “Delilah?” Robyn said.

  “That’s the name of my pick-up. Lydia named it.”

  “That’s sweet,” Wren said distantly as the fogginess from the wine lifted, instantly. “A van you say? What kind of van?”

  “A Sprinter, Mercedes Sprinter. Why?”

  “No, I mean is it a small one or a tall one?”

  “It’s not a compact, it’s a proper van. Would you like it? It won’t be too long before you can have first dibs on everything I own. I’ll even teach you how to use the radio. What’s your interest in the van, anyway?”

  “Erm...nothing. Just curious,” Wren replied.

  “Don’t worry,” Robyn said, “You’ll get used to her. She comes out with random stuff all the ti—” Robyn broke off, realising that Jeb would not have time to get used to Wren, or anything else. “Sorry.”

  “It’s alright, sunshine,” Jeb said, placing his hand over hers and squeezing it. “Well my dears, I’d best be getting back, before it gets dark.”

  Jeb stood up and Robyn followed him out of the living room, but Wren remained there for a moment. It was only when she heard the door of Jeb’s car close that she jerked from her thoughts, and ran out of the house. His window was wound down and he was just about to say his goodbyes, when Wren reached through and pulled the keys out of the ignition. “Wait!” she said.

  “Wren, what are you doing?” Robyn asked.

  “There’s a way,” Wren said.

  “A way?” Robyn replied.

  “A way for what?” Jeb said.

  “A way to get the meds.”

  Jeb smiled and shook his head. “I’ll give you this, sunshine. You don’t give up, do you? But it’s like I said. It’s okay, I’m at peace with it. It’s just the way it worked out, I’m not going to put anyone in danger for me.”

  “That’s the thing. There won’t be danger. Well, not much danger. It’s totally doable,” Wren blurted.

  Robyn, who had taken more and more to Jeb as the day had gone on, touched Wren’s arm. “Tell me.”

  “The van. Remove the two window panels from the back doors of the van,” Wren said, still working everything out in her head.

  “That’s it? Doesn’t make much sense…” Robyn replied.

  “Wait, listen. We park the van in the car pack with the back window panels taken out. Nothing can get in, but our weapons can reach out. I open the main door and run back to the van, avoiding the booby trap I’ll have set up on the steps. That will give me enough time to get back into the van and close the door. Then you and me pick them off from inside, one by one. When we’ve got rid of them all, we go in and get the heart meds. Simples,” Wren said.

  Robyn suddenly sobered up too, but it was Jeb who spoke. “You have no idea how much it means to me that you girls would want to help me like this, but I couldn’t allow it. Never in a million years.” He put his hands out for his keys, and Wren put them behind her back.

  “No!”

  “Wren, please, give me my keys,” he said gently.

  “No, I won’t. I won’t let you leave us. We need help. We don’t know what we’re doing, she said nodding towards the fence.”

  “I’ve told you, I’m coming back tomorrow to give you a hand with that. We’ll get it all done. Now please, I need to get back home. I shouldn’t have had that wine.”

  “I don’t just mean with the fence. We’ve had to fend for ourselves ever since leaving Edinburgh, and we’ve got through by the skin of our teeth. We got taken in by Thomas, they gave us food and a place to stay, but what next? We don’t know how to grow things, everything I’m learning, I’m learning from books. And what if those men come back from Loch Uig, like you say? You will leave us to face them alone. We need you,” tears had started to dribble down her cheeks. “You see things I don’t. I might have book-smarts, but I didn’t figure out what that man from Loch Uig was up to.”

  Jeb smiled, “That comes with a lifetime of experience. It’s only when you’ve dealt with thousands of people in your life that you realise just how awful they truly are.”

  “Yeah...well...I didn’t know. And if you hadn’t have said anything, well, if they ever showed up again, I would have welcomed them with open arms, just like you said, and then where would we be?”

  The smile left Jeb’s face. He had taken to these two girls like they had taken to him, and the thought of something happening to them sent a sudden shiver down him. He let out a breath. “Tell me your plan again.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The sun was dropping out of the sky as Jeb parked the old Morris Minor pick-up in front of his house. He opened the door and climbed out. His farm had thrived once, but now it was a monument to a fallen society. He walked across to one of the barns and opened the door. There stood a white Mercedes Sprinter van; it was barely two years old, and now he was going to butcher it. He walked into the barn and fired up the generator, illuminating the dark interior. Over in one corner was a small cubicle he had built for his radio. Conduit led up the wall and out to a giant antenna which he had on the roof. He remembered the happy hours he had spent on it talking to people all over the world, but his reminisces came to an abrupt halt as he turned back to the van.

  At first, when Wren and Robyn had spoken to him about helping him get the medication he needed, it had been pie in the sky. In the past, he had sometimes been accused of being a selfish man, but in his twilight years, there was no way he was prepared to risk the safety of two young girls for his own benefit. But as Wren spoke about needing help, it dawned on him that they were really fish out of water out in the country. They had spent a mere flash in time with Isabel and Thomas, and although they had books about what mushrooms to pick and what plants were poisonous, they had not grown up in the countryside, and it would be easy to make a mistake.

  Jeb realised that he might not have long left on this planet, but he could put what time he did have to good use, helping these girls learn what they needed, and it beat keeping his own company every day, alone.

  “First things first,” he said, picking up the sweeping brush and placing both feet firmly on the head while pulling and twisting the wooden handle up. The two finally separated, leaving Jeb with a chest high wooden pole. He looked at the tapered end that had been stuck in the brush head then reached to his workbench for his Stanley knife blade. Jeb chipped, chopped and carved away until he was left with a primitive spear. He put the knife back down and looked at his handy work, stabbing into the air several times before placing the new weapon in the back of the van. He kept the double door open for a moment, admiring the wooden panelled interior which he had taken great care to deck out himself. Such a shame, he thought.

  He picked up his cordless drill and turned it on, checking the pow
er before begrudgingly putting it to work boring pilot holes into the four corners of the two top window panels. Once they were done, he switched to his jigsaw and within fifteen minutes, his beautiful, shining white van had been mangled. He shuddered as he put the jigsaw back down, and looked at the damage he had inflicted. He began to think about the morning that lay ahead, and the sadness on his face intensified. His regret was twofold. On the one hand, he did not want to put the girls in danger, and on the other, they were both still naive. They had dealt with these creatures head on, but they hadn’t faced real evil yet. That was still to come.

  chapter 16

  It was just past eight a.m. and Fry was sat in the hotel bar. The cloud covered sky cast the room in a morbid greyness, but there was enough light for TJ to see the anger raging on Fry’s face as he approached the man.

  The big Glaswegian poured himself a whisky, knocked it back in one hit, then poured himself another while he gestured for TJ to sit down.

  “You been here all night?” TJ asked.

  Fry glared at him for a few seconds and then took another drink. “I gave you a lot of responsibility. Are you up to it?”

  TJ turned cold inside. He saw the murderous glint in Fry’s eye. He had lost count of the number of people he had seen Fry beat to death on a whim, and now he wondered if his own time had come. “I...I’m up to it. I’ve always done as you asked. I’ve never taken a bigger cut of the pie than I should. I’ve always been loyal. Why? What are you asking me?”

  Fry wiped his mouth. “Do you understand what leadership is in a place like this? It’s all about balance.”

  “The men respect you, Fry, you’re a good—”

  “Don’t you fucking lie to me TJ. Don’t bullshit me...not you. The men don’t respect me, they fear me. And I don’t care about their respect, but I do need them to fear me right now—just a little bit less than they fear being out there alone. And do you know how I manage that?”

  “Erm…”

  “Well? the cat got your tongue?”

  “I, erm…”

  Fry stared at TJ, his piercing, drunken blue eyes boring holes through him.