In The End Box Set | Books 1-3

by Stevens, GJ

  He'd gone to get her and if she didn't come, he'd be back out on his own. He would come out of the coach and call our names. He’d open his arms and I'd run toward him, where he'd scoop us both up and take us somewhere safe. Nanny's, maybe? It was a boring place. No comics. Nanny didn't like to have them around. Didn’t like to be reminded of Grandad. Why wouldn't you want to be reminded?

  At least it was safe and a long way away, which looked like the best place to be right now.

  I think it had been maybe ten minutes or more. Each moment since I'd crouched I thought I would get up, but couldn't, backing out at the last second; each moment expecting sirens and blue lights bright in the distance.

  I was freezing, Tish was getting closer and closer. She was cold too, but stayed asleep. Thankfully.

  Nothing had changed, no movement. I knew I had to do something. People could die from being out in the cold. Everyone knew.

  I stood, took several steps toward the coach and there he was, a dark figure about Dad's height and with his wide, thick chest. I was sure it was his big puffy coat, the one Mum hated because she said it made him look like a teenager.

  He was walking a little funny and was by himself. Mummy was probably doing her make up or something or didn't want to come out in the cold. An image came into my head. We were all back on the coach. I sat behind Dad as he drove us away.

  After every step he seemed to stumble. I'd seen those movements before, normally when he'd been out with his friends at night.

  I was nearly at the coach when I first smelt something horrible. I turned to Tish and leaned in closer.

  No, it wasn't her and it definitely wasn't me. It must have been Dad who'd pooped himself.

  “Dad,” I said, trying to take the whine out of my voice, like he always told me.

  He didn't speak, but for the first time he seemed to notice I was there, turning in my direction and speeding up. He was still quite slow.

  I stopped walking, hearing a sound behind me. I turned; there were lights on the road. I'd seen no other cars since we'd left the house.

  I kept staring forward then stepped to the side, realising I was in the middle of the road, right where I was told all the time to avoid. ‘Remember the Green Cross Code,’ my parents would say each time I left the house.

  The smell was getting nearer and so were the lights. I had to turn away; they were on full.

  I turned back to Dad, still squinting, the engine getting louder; they must have been going so fast.

  As I turned, I let my breath out; it was Dad after all. I could see by his haircut and the blood on the side of the face. Then I looked behind him, my eyes wide as I thought it was Mum, but I soon saw it was someone else. Someone in a white coat with black, no, reddish mark on their chest and they stumbled as they took the last step before falling to the floor.

  “Dad,” I said, pointing to her, but he didn't turn, didn't move. He just kept his eyes on me and Tish.

  The engine noise was getting so loud I thought they would hit me. Dad looked like he was going in for a hug, but in slow motion. I was in arms reach, his face expressionless like he had bad news.

  “It's Mum, isn't it? Just tell me,” I kept saying, but he stared back. Tears ran down my face and Tish moved. The stink was horrid. I had to hold my breath.

  “Dad,” I said. “What's wrong with your eyes?”

  I held my hand out, grabbing his outstretched arm, pushing myself against the coach while pulling him close.

  What was wrong with him? Couldn't he see the car was about to run us both over?

  Stumbling forward, his skin felt weird. He was cold and he smelt like meat when you unpacked it out of the supermarket bags, stinking like it had been out far too long.

  As the headlights grew brighter than I thought they ever could, I felt his teeth bite down into my hand.

  38

  With the pain still building, Dad's mouth ripped away, but it wasn't Dad anymore. I knew as the car smashed into his side, sending him, arms loose, flying like a crash test dummy across the road.

  I grabbed Tish tight, giving a shake. She groaned as if she was struggling to wake. I coughed as the air filled with smoke, tyres squealing against the road. The car had stopped just beyond the edge of the coach. A constant pound of a muffled drum beat rumbled towards me.

  Fixed to the spot, I didn't want to move. The smoke gagging in the back of my throat and my hand pulsing with pain, blood dripping from what looked like a part missing between my thumb and finger. I had to look away, my head swimming as I'd watched the black blood stream down to the road.

  As I looked up I saw the passenger door open; whoever was in the driver's seat leaned across. I couldn't see who it was, but they must have recognised me. Still, I didn't move from the spot, even when I saw someone, something, stumble down the stairs of the coach and tripping over the thing still struggling to get to their feet, one of its legs bent in the wrong place.

  The bright white of the reversing light blinked on and the car sped backwards. The man who'd climbed from the coach was on his feet. It was the soldier, the gun no longer in his hand as he walked towards us in the headlights of the car stopping at my side.

  I couldn't recognise the man in the car. He wasn't one of my friend's parents, not someone from school. I'd never seen him at the house, either.

  A stranger. A teenager, too; a thin moustache over his lips which made him look younger, not older. He wore a tracksuit and heavy, thumping music pounded from the open door. He nodded towards the opening, then looked at my hand. Looked at Tish and nodded again, like he might have changed his mind, but changed it back again.

  He turned to the soldier for just a second. I turned, too.

  He was getting close. We looked at each other again. His eyebrows raised. Still he hadn't spoken.

  My mum's words ran through my head.

  “Never get in a car with a stranger, unless it's a policeman.”

  I thought of asking him what his job was, but the words wouldn't come. The man still stared, raising his eyebrows. It was time to choose.

  I looked down at Tish. I'd be okay on my own, but it wasn't just about me anymore. I had my sister to look after and I took a step towards the car, could feel the warmth rolling out and saw my Dad's blood streaked up the white paint of the car bonnet.

  He spoke for the first time, his voice low. I stopped moving.

  “I've got sweets if you want one,” he said, and a laugh came deep from his belly.

  I turned and ran and carried on, even when I felt my breath had run out. Not stopping for walls or bushes or hedges or trees. Diving in and out. I'd been away from light for so long I could see quite well.

  After what seemed like a long time and with the sky finally beginning to brighten, I had to stop in a copse of trees. It was that smell again, but maybe not so bad. I looked down at Tish and she smiled back.

  While rifling through my pack I took notice of my hand for the first time. Running had taken all my concentration to stop us banging into things I could only see at the last moment.

  It had stopped bleeding, crusted over, but hurt like it looked it should. It wasn't the worst pain in the world, which was still being kicked in the gonads. I thought of what I could use as a nappy, maybe three pairs of my pants tied at the side might work. I'd brought enough.

  I thought of my mum's reaction to what I'd collected up. Maybe I was right this time. I smiled as I opened the pack. Mum had put nappies and Tish's things in my bag.

  Laying out one of my T-shirts on the ground, I changed her; not a big deal, but I used the strong-smelling stuff on my hands three times as I let her run around.

  We shared a can of beans once I won the struggle to get the ring pull thing up. They tasted all right once you'd got used to the cold. We drank water and I listened to Tish laughing as she picked up leaves and let them drop to the ground. I couldn't help but smile. She was enjoying the great adventure.

  Climbing the height of the stone wall, I kept twisting
back to make sure Tish hadn't run off or was about to pick up dog poop. She'd done it before, but I wasn't in charge then. I couldn't let it happen now.

  The wall didn't feel too stable, but I needed somewhere high up. Whilst I'd run, I'd decided we should head home. We'd collect Rusty, somehow finding a way to get into the house. I'd get Mum's address book and we'd head to Nanny's. She'd know what to do.

  A gunshot rang off somewhere in the distance. I looked around, but I couldn't see anything moving, even though by now the sun had made the sky blue.

  Tish laughed as the sharp noise came again. Closer this time. Maybe?

  I wasn't laughing.

  Since I'd eaten I'd started to feel funny inside, like I needed to lay down under my covers.

  The covers in my room. My room at home.

  There was only one problem. I had no idea where home was.

  39

  The road looked the same as every other where we lived. Still, I stayed high on the wall, looking in all directions, hoping there would be somewhere I recognised. I looked for my house first, of course. A cottage with a thatched roof, but the same could be said for most of the houses for miles.

  The fresh breeze helped to settle my stomach as I tried squinting, staring into the horizon, searching out anything that could be a building. I thought to look for my school. It would be easy to follow the road home from there. It would take less than half an hour walking.

  The problem was it was only a little bigger than my house; two small buildings instead of one. Every year they only just got enough kids to fill the amount of space needed to keep it from closing. I knew soon I would have to go to a bigger school, the comprehensive closer to town. We'd have to drive, a long journey twice a day.

  Before today, of course. Before last night. Before what happened to Mum and Dad.

  Me and Tish would have to live with Nanny.

  I turned, almost falling, a stone loose under my right foot. Tish wasn't there.

  How long had it been since I last saw her?

  Jumping from the wall I ran in a circle, twisting left and right, craning to see around the trees, not wanting to charge off in one direction in case she'd gone the other way.

  “Tish,” I called. “Tish,” I said again, then waited. All I could hear were the rustle of the branches above my head. No little footsteps. No little laughs. No cooing at her latest fascination.

  “Tish. Where are you?” I was shouting at the top of my voice as I widened the circle, my head darting all over the place. I looked at the ground. Looked for her footprints, but the mud was cold and hard. I wasn't leaving size four prints, so how would her little feet be marking out her path when she weighed about the same as my bag?

  “Tish,” I called again.

  How could I have been so silly? How could I have let Mum and Dad down so quickly?

  With my head turning to the right, I didn't see the branch coming out from the ground. I tripped, stumbling forward. My knees scraping as I hit down hard.

  Tears came and I turned, planting myself on my bum. My head was hurting like I'd been playing on the Xbox for too long. My stomach tightened, my jaw falling loose.

  I knew this feeling and turned to the side. The beans came up, so did the water and last night's dinner, lasagne and those crisps which had nothing to do with Mum staying on the bus.

  Feeling better almost straight away, the world swaying only a little as I stood, the crack of a twig caused me to twist.

  There she was, running, her hands out wide, her face lit up like she'd been the one searching.

  “Where've you been?” I said. “Don't do that again,” I added as I bent down, pulling her close.

  She screwed up her nose at my breath, the stink reflecting back. It smelt like I'd eaten what goes down the toilet. My head swam.

  Holding her tight, I took the few steps to where I'd left the bag at the base of the wall. I just about made it before my legs gave way.

  Leaning heavy against the cold stone, I wrapped her in my coat as she sat on my lap, taking her cold hands in mine. I took a quick look around to make sure it was safe, then turned to look over my left shoulder and watched the sun peering over the stone wall.

  Taking a deep breath, I knew I had little choice but to sleep. At least just for a moment. Even the memory of something we learnt in school last year couldn't keep my eyes open. At least I knew when I woke I had a way of finding home.

  ***

  “Tish,” I said, the cold air a shock as a sharp breath pulled in. I could feel she wasn't lain in my arms like she had as I'd fallen asleep only moments ago.

  The morning was still bright as my eyes blinked open, relief coming as I saw her in front of me, bent over, picking at the grass. Her pink trousers were dark, soaked through, her nappy sagging between her legs. I must have been out for longer than I'd thought, but it had done me good. The headache had gone and my stomach felt like it had relaxed; felt normal again. Empty, but normal.

  Smiling, I kept my eyes on Tish. She was picking blades of grass and throwing them in the air. I turned and saw the bag was missing from my side. It was a few paces away, flat, the contents strewn across the wet ground. I spotted an open nappy, the tapes pulled apart. I think she might have tried to change herself.

  I couldn't have been out long. It was still morning. I remembered the last thing I saw and turned to my right; we'd done it in science last year. We did an experiment over a whole week, plotting the position of the sun throughout the day.

  I looked up, but it wasn't there, either. I turned left to where I'd seen it before, but it wasn't where it should be. As I concentrated, I saw the sun coming over the stone wall. But it couldn't be right. It was lower than it was when I'd closed my eyes.

  The only way it could happen like this was if I'd slept through the whole day and today was tomorrow.

  Standing, I expected to feel weak, but the opposite was true. I was full of energy, even though I'd not eaten for two days.

  Walking over to Tish, I changed her bum whilst I tried to hold back my guilt for the pink, sore skin. Luckily, Mum had packed some of the white cream.

  Hugging her harder than I should have, I could feel she was freezing cold. At least she hadn't gone hungry. The empty packets of the dried fruit scattered around the clothes told me all I needed to know. Still, I opened the last of the beans and we filled up.

  I was hungrier than I'd been for a long time and eager to get on with the trip home, confident we should walk to where the sun was coming up, sure I could remember seeing the sun setting from my bedroom window before.

  We set off through the trees, coming out the other side. I climbed over the wall after lowering Tish first, repeating over the opposite side.

  We walked across fields, the view blocked by large trees everywhere with Tish happy to toddle along beside me, enjoying her fresh nappy and dry clothes. Soon I heard a sound I recognised and a wide smile bunched my cheeks.

  A helicopter. Cool, and it was getting close. I grabbed Tish, pulling her in tight and ran towards the sound.

  40

  Running, I heard a sound I'd copied so many times in the playground. The chug, chug rattle of machine gun fire added to the beat of rotor blades cutting through the air.

  Pulling from the trees I saw the dark-green Merlin; the real-life version of what I'd flown so many times around my room. The helicopter was hovering close to the ground, maybe as high as a church steeple. The side door was open and I just about saw the gunner gripping tight as he trained the long gun at the ground.

  I knew without having to think that he was shooting at more of those things, the hosts of whatever terrible disease had taken over the dead bodies.

  Still, I couldn't help but smile. This was a rescue mission and I wondered what the helicopter would be like inside. Tish gave a giggle and I turned down to see her smiling back, but as I squeezed her tight, she wriggled for freedom. The chatter of the machine gun fell silent.

  “We'll get to Nanny's really quickly now,
” I said, giving her a playful shake.

  Looking back up, my gaze caught on a long stack of smoke rising high in the distance. I chanced a look left and right, seeing columns of grey smoke each way I turned.

  These were new, not something I'd seen when I'd spent so long staring at the horizon to search for home. I clutched Tish closer as I remembered what had happened.

  Picking up the pace, I ran towards the helicopter and I shouted for help. Tish joined in with her own made up words.

  The helicopter moved from its hover, spinning around, hurrying to the right and stopping mid-air. It twisted as if searching below, then without warning, it moved left and the door gunner let out a long blast.

  When the gun silenced, I shouted as loud as I could to call for help, but it hurried away, flying higher and becoming a dot in the sky.

  “It's okay, Tish, they'll be back or someone else will come,” I said.

  Her giggle pushed back the tears, then her expression fell, her eyes opened wide. The loud clap of the bird scarer was common enough and we soon both relaxed.

  I walked again, putting Tish down and realised I'd forgotten to follow the sun.

  We ended up walking slowly. I was following Tish as she ambled through the open fields, heading towards a big clump of trees. It was the biggest wood I'd seen while we'd been walking.

  Another shot broke through the air and I didn't give it a second thought, until five, six or seven went off, one after the other. I hurried a little closer to Tish. There were people hunting and I didn't want her running into their path.

  Tish was still following an imaginary line, swerving left and right, with no sense in her direction. I didn't have the heart to grab her up and restrict her from playing.

  We'd walked like this for ten minutes and my wound itched, but it took my mind from the two shots which seemed to have been the last for some time.

  Her path straightened and she headed a direct course. Her head lifted high. After a few moments she stopped and her little arm raised, her head turning my way.