And they set off, the crows leaving their roost as soon as they were just a few metres away. Cai pointed out the shops and buildings as they went, indicating where he had found what and the buildings that were in fact mausoleums. Past a banner that declared ‘By Royal Decree, Kindles are banned from the Kingdom of Hay’. Past Richard Booth’s – the largest second-hand bookstore on the planet, it said. A lion masthead stared down solemnly from the top floor parapet, all the windows in the pre-Georgian building obliterated; inside, Cai could see that the standing shelves still stood with its labyrinthine avenues, named by categories. Inside was one such mausoleum.
As Cai left the town, he quietened. His backpack was heavy and he was already breathing hard. The gun rubbed against the bottom of his spine and he began to wish he had just packed it away, but he looked across at his now-bodyguards – in effect – and watched their easy strides, as though no weight bore them down.
If we wanted to kill you, we would’ve already.
“Hold up a sec,” he said. “I gotta take a leak.” He went off-road behind a tree and unshouldered his bag. Unbuttoning his jeans, he caught the gun before it fell and quickly packed it away. To avoid suspicion, he peed against the tree, what little was in him.
*****
Cai watched Nate’s hand gently circling around and around on Ruby’s belly as they spooned before burning branches. The branches had been wet and difficult to light, but they had done so in the end – it had been turning too cold to give up. Cai was shivering in his sleeping bag waiting to get warm, and here were these two, their sleeping bag barely tossed over their legs, claiming simply, “We got each other to keep us warm.” Ruby nestled further into Nate at that point, bending back her head into the crook of his neck. They stared into the fire and it was difficult to tell if it was merely the fire reflected back from their eyes, or if their eyes were somehow glowing, red, as the flames danced.
Throwing more branches onto the fire, Cai said, “Remember when the leading cause of death was heart disease?”
“And now,” said Ruby, “it’s dismemberment, or being cannibalised.”
“No-one should have to go through life with the very real threat of being eaten,” smiled Cai, trying to lighten the mood. But his compatriots stared blankly into the flames.
“Just imagine it, get perspective,” Cai shivered; “Zombies – I know they’re not real zombies – out there want to eat us. They actually want to take this arm, hugging my chest, and cut it off if they could. Rip it off. No-one should have to feel their arm being ripped off. They want to take this arm and eat it – my arm. Eat... my... arm.”
“They tend to go for the throat, in our experience.”
Cai looked across the fire at their flickering faces; a beard already returning to Nate. They seemed peaceful, in contrast to himself; looking around at the darkness between the trees, to the moonlit sky and the stars unchanging; the Universe unaffected by their small, insignificant, Earthly plight. At least it wasn’t raining.
They had walked down to Glasbury that day, along a small B-road meant for nothing more than carting tractors from field to field, lined with the occasional farmhouse that had looked like life had vanished from within it years ago. Winter was ageing everything; a corollary that with extinction made even the latest grand designs and architectural wonders ancient: the truly ancient now seemingly more at home. He had imagined his family home; a likewise old cobble-stone farmhouse, and it had felt right – where better to live now that cities and towns were redundant?
In Glasbury they had crossed the River Wye again and found the main road with its obligatory petrol station. The river was home to many bodies awaiting a rainfall and the accompanying swell to wash them to the Severn Estuary and the sea, to meet with the others. There, Cai’s two companions quickly disposed of a group of in-fighting ‘zombies’. Once the things had seen them, they had stopped fighting and charged for them, and immediately Cai had regretted hiding his gun – Why not just let them know I have it? he had thought. Nate had placed his hand on his chest and pushed him back, and they had formed a wall of muscle in front of him. Their breadth had blocked his view until one face appeared over Nate’s shoulder; snarling, all teeth and foulness, tongue black and eyes white-going-red as a knife entered through its temple. It had flopped face-down at his feet with a smack on the tarmac, splayed like the perfect murder victim. Two further thuds proceeded and before Cai could catch his breath back, Nate and Ruby were wiping the blood from their blades. That was why he didn’t tell them about the gun.
*****
At sun-up they wakened; Ruby then Nate disappearing into the still-darkened forest to relieve themselves, while Cai sat at the fire and restarted it to warm back up. Licks of ice in the night, crawling between his neck and the sleeping bag, had meant that he had hardly slept; his eyes felt heavy and he yawned. “Okay,” he said to Nate when he returned, “I don’t care what you guys say – you ain’t human. It’s fucking freezing.”
“Hungry,” replied Nate. He sat down and pulled out a tin of chicken curry from his bag. He opened it and sniffed at it while Cai watched. They’re eyes met and Nate reached out and put the tin in the flames.
“Put one on for me,” said Ruby.
Once sated, they set off again, roughly north-west, along the main road. Clouds had formed now as they neared the heart of Wales, the peaks and troughs of the land increasing and the threat of rain swelling. They came across a car crash at one point; one car had overturned and careened off the road into the field, flattening the hedge and allowing roving sheep to venture onto the safety of the road. Its driver-side door stood open, but it was unoccupied. The other car was a Land Rover, facing north with its right-headlight smashed. Cai smashed the driver-side window and tried the key that was still in there, but he may as well have been giving CPR to a corpse. Or maybe not. “I wish some of the cars were undead,” he said. “It would make about as much sense.” He turned to find Nate and Ruby had continued onwards without him, and he looked to the sky. “Just talk to myself, then!” he shouted, before running after them.
A mile or so further down the road there was a layby with a sign. Nailed to large pine tree was a board painted white, with red lettering saying:
You are not alone.
We are a community of survivors.
We have food, water and electricity.
Want to join us? We will come by here every day at noon.
The cities are not safe.
Beneath the sign was a blue, unopened cool-box. While Nate stroked his fingertips along the words on the board, Cai and Ruby examined the cool-box. It had dried food and snacks, like crisps and chocolate, and bottles of water. “What do you make of this?” asked Cai.
“Looks untouched,” said Ruby.
“Shall we take it?”
“Sure.”
“What if someone else comes along who needs it more?”
Looking around, Ruby shrugged. “Don’t see no-one. ‘sides, you’ll need it at some point, if just not right now.”
Cai nodded and shrugged his backpack off. “You taking anything?”
“We’re good, I think.”
Somehow, I think you are, thought Cai, taking what extra he could carry. “What about the sign? Should we wait?”
“You’re call,” said Nate, his throat sounding rough. He coughed and spat phlegm into the hedge.
“Couldn’t hurt maybe. They might be able to help us, or know information about the area.” So they sat on the grass verge of the gravel layby with the wind picking up and the clouds turning greyer. The sun was completely hidden, leading Cai to ask repeatedly if they thought it was midday yet. Red Kites hovered on the currents high-up; Nate and Ruby seemed to watch them with intent, studying their movements. Occasionally one dove out of sight behind the tree-line, or over the crest of a green hill. Dispersed sheep baa’ed from the other side of hedges, surprising Cai who had not registered them. Nate and Ruby sat still, until they stood and started to throw stones at
a target across the road. At one point, bored, Cai said “Wait here,” and forced his way through the undergrowth around the trees to the hill rising up the other end. He walked until he was through the small wood and then up to the crest through a patchy field the sheep had left mostly alone. He looked at the nearest sheep and found himself salivating at the prospect of cooked lamb. His farm; he would find his father’s sheep, if not his father. But please, his father. It was too much lamb for one person. He would have to store it. He would have to put up safe signs, like these people had. He thought of Nate and Ruby – would they even want to stay when they had escorted him there? Probably not. They’d share a roast and then go. Hopefully, he caught himself thinking.
At the crest, he saw yet more fields and hedgerows; small lanes probably intersected some of them, leading to the farmhouses he saw and allowing passage from one field to another; perhaps from one hamlet to another. Impossible to tell – everything was just pastels of green beneath the greying day. If any of those buildings was the sanctuary promised, they did a good job of blending in with the general motif of desolation. “Fuck waiting any longer,” he said, and walked back down the field.
*****
In Builth Wells they passed Smithfield Tractors; glossy and green, the tractors were lined up almost arrow-straight on the concord, exact replicas of each other. Cai thought of the farm and how his father had been wanting to get a new tractor for years but could never afford it. I’ll come back and get you the biggest, most badass tractor there is, if you’re alive.
The town was sparsely populated and not very dense – even as they had walked through the town centre, the hills that cupped it in their palm could be seen between cottage alleyways, above petrol station roofs, or reflected in the windows of model-pristine shop-fronts. It was as if people hadn’t just been killed off, rather they had disappeared altogether – poof – in some supernatural event. A rapture for scientific times. Cai smiled, thinking back to the Sunday-school lessons at church. Maybe they had been on to something?
“Can we stop a moment?” asked Cai. “I’m tired, my back is aching.”
Nate and Ruby stopped and turned – he was always trailing them, it seemed – and said “okay.”
“Let’s rest up over there,” said Cai, pointing to the ESSO garage.
With dull grey dials on the pumps and blood on the forecourt, it was at least cover in case the rain that threatened finally fell. “Any idea what time it is now?” he asked.
“Nearing night,” said Ruby.
Pushing on the garage door, Cai said “Can we just stay here tonight? I’m not sure I can handle any more walking today. In truth, I can’t stand the thought of another night in the wild.”
“Hold,” said Nate, grabbing Cai’s shoulder. He pulled him back and then pushed his way into the garage.
“Let him check,” said Ruby, placing a hand on his shoulder.
As buzzards circled the air above, having found roost in the corners and troughs of homes and smashed out factories, Nate went inside. Cai caught a whiff of something as the door swung shut.
“Death,” said Ruby.
Cai watched Nate’s head and shoulders roam between the plundered shelves, towards the counter at the far end, and disappear inside the staff door. “Who are you guys?” he said. “You act like this is all so normal.”
“This is normal.”
“Normal is running.”
“Normal was running.”
“I just don’t know anymore.”
Nate returned carrying two bodies, one on each shoulder. Ruby opened the door for him and he walked out and marched across the road. A hedge separated it from someone’s front garden. He lobbed them over. When he returned, he said “Clear” and waited.
“After you,” said Ruby.
Cai looked at them both, the rot of decay still in his nostrils. He had stayed alive this long by avoiding the smells, scavenging where it was safe; he hadn’t even fired the gun since… he had to use it on Jules. Just do it! Quickly, before I turn into one of those motherfucking bastards!
“Or we could try somewhere else,” he said.
Nate pushed him slightly, “It’s safe.” He opened the heavy door with one long, extended arm. The invitation was for Cai to walk beneath it, before heading inside.
“Hey, man, don’t push.”
“Let’s just check it out,” said Ruby, “now that we’re here. You wanted to rest, remember.” She walked in ahead of them and Cai followed. Ruby picked up a can of air freshener and began spraying it. Rows of long-past milk sat in the expired refrigerator. Through the staff door was an office, dried blood and papers cast astray across the desk making for a crime scene. Further, a staff room with two old-looking but serviceable brown sofas stood opposite each other, with a sink and cupboard in the corner. Despite his apprehension, Cai couldn’t help but say “Dour. Glad I didn’t work in this shithole.” He walked over to the window and drew the blinds. “God, that’s a relief,” he said, letting his backpack drop from his back. He flopped onto one of the sofas, lay back and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna rest a while, if you don’t mind.”
Cai closed his eyes; his ‘bodyguards’ were silent as they moved around the room, opening cupboard doors, turning taps, pulling out drawers, until they left the room. As his chest rises slowed and the distant knocking faded, he vaguely recalled going under for an appendectomy, being asked to count back from ten and not making it to five. He was this tired now.
In his dream, he was back at his father’s farm who was embracing him and then slapping him across his back and congratulating him with the best ransacked whiskey he could find for making it through the apocalypse and for now being able to inherit the farm he had always hoped in his heart he would someday pass down. His wind-pocked red cheeks were bulging with mirth. His eyes were bloodshot. He had allowed his side-beard – his chops, white and bristly – to grow out. “Come here, lad” he bellowed. “Come here and bring your friends with you and we’ll have ourselves a pig roast tonight, fresh from Bryn over the way, butchered this morning it was.” And he pulled back an arm to reveal a turning spit with a human cadaver on it. Smelled like burning pig-skin.
Cai woke to silence and darkness, shivering and sweating at the same time. He turned inwards so the sofa-back was in his face, and pulled up his legs, but he was awake now and when he breathed he could smell the stale sweat of hundreds, if not thousands, of arse cracks. He rolled over with a groan and swung his legs to the floor. He listened for the breathing of his comrades when he saw they weren’t on the opposite sofa, hearing nothing but rain patter against the window. He’d picked ‘comrade’ up from Jules and found it snuck into his thoughts every now and then.
“Guys?” he said. The blinds allowed in no light, so he felt for his bag with his feet, found it and pulled out a torch. Turned on, the bright disc illuminated the brown sofa opposite and the white-cream wall behind, but no sign of Nate or Ruby. “Where you to?”
Cai stood and arced the beam around the room, revealing everything as it had been before. He went to the blinds and pulled two slats apart so he could see out, lowering the torchlight. He may as well have had his face up against a wall of cold, black rock. His heartbeat thumped momentarily, imagining purgatory as this rectangular box of white and cream and fetid sofas, the one window without a view.
He turned to the office door and passed quickly through it. Some of the drawers in the desk and filing cabinet had been yanked out, their insides rummaged but not ransacked – nothing of use. He could hear the rain pummelling the flat roof.
“You in here?” he said as he made his way to the shop front. An old, chewy Refresher bar caught his eye on the counter – he took it and unwrapped it as he continued around the shelves. Absently, he put it to his mouth and chewed, then recoiled at the sudden sugar explosion. Tasted good.
At the door, he pulled and immediately felt the cool air on his bare hand. His gloves were in his bag. Come to think of it, so was his gun. He put his head
out the door and strained to hear. The forecourt was protected by the covering roof, but he could hear the rain pouring from it in streams and puddling around the exposed edges of ground, louder than the rain itself. There was a slight luminescence to the sheets of water as it fell, so that Cai could see clearly where it began to fall; but nothing much beyond. Did the ‘zombies’ hide from rain, he thought, considering his gun. “Fuck this,” he said, “too damn wet and too damn cold. You gotta be crazy to go out in this.”
He closed the door and switched off the torch, and felt his way to the counter. He swiped his hand inside a carton of chocolate bars and picked up a handful, before returning to the sofa. He sat, unwrapped a bar, and ate. He stared at the wall. Nothing to do now but wait, listening to the incessant rain, in the incessantly boring white and cream staff room. At least back in Hay he had electric and a television, but staring at the white disc of light on the wall, it was easy to admit he saw no difference any more between those old, moving pictures and sounds, and the silence of the static circle.
*****
Where they had been; what they had been doing; he didn’t know or ask. They were inevitably wet when they appeared in the doorway as the sun was rising and casting its glow through the blinds. Hair was matted and dripping, and they pulled other clothes from their bags to dry it; peeling the wet clothes off. It was like he wasn’t there; they stood in the corner by their bags, rummaging, stripping; revealing bodies of hardened muscle – it was amazing how ripped they were, thought Cai, but not just ripped; bulky. Nate’s massive hands looked like they could tear bones apart. When Ruby began to lift her top, revealing breasts with distinguishable muscle definition keeping them pert; her nipples round, large and brown, Cai said “Okay,” and stood up. “I’ll give you guys some privacy.” He left for the glass of the shop front and stared out at the rain-sodden ground. Looking down, he saw he was standing in muddy footprints and sighed, moving sideways. There was no need for mud. They only needed to follow the road. Any off-road pursuits should be merely down paths to abandoned buildings.
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