In The End Box Set | Books 1-3

by Stevens, GJ

  “You met her when you first arrived. She would have wanted to look you in the eye.”

  I pulled on the warmth of the jacket. Feeling the hug of the material against my skin, I turned back to Toni staring back through the imagined windows.

  The conversation caught up in my head, my fingers stopping the zip halfway up as I remembered the older woman with grey hair as she sat across the table with those deep green eyes.

  “Who is she?” I said, my eyes narrowing. I watched as Toni took a deep swallow.

  “My mother,” she replied, and her head fell into her hands.

  25

  “Your mother?” I said, lurching forward as I pulled the zip to just below my neck. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed her nod. “She’s not your mother,” I said, not able to hold back the laughter as I shook my head. “I knew your mum almost as well as I know mine. Why would you say that?” I stepped back, my surprise turning to anger at her obvious lie.

  “I’m adopted,” she said through her hands, her shoulders stooped as she stared at the floor of the van. The words sparked through me like a shock wave.

  I should have paused and taken the time to think this through, but instead the words just came along with the anger of only just finding this out now.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Just over a year.”

  The frustration turned to guilt as I saw the conflict on her features. The last time we’d seen each other, the last time we’d spoken would have been about that time. It had been almost a year since I’d told her we needed to keep away from each other.

  “Did you know when…” I said, not able to finish the sentence as I questioned if maybe it was the stress of the news that made her so much worse than she’d ever been. “You never mentioned her,” I said, trying to hold back a torrent of emotion whilst unpicking how I felt.

  The pain she’d gone through was so clear on her downcast features and the way she slumped in her seat. Still, there was no excuse for taking it out on me at the time. When I made my decision, the arguments had grown so frequent I no longer wanted to be near her for fear of the anger spilling over and one of us doing something we would regret forever.

  Toni looked up with her eyelids low and her battered face so full of sorrow.

  “There was a lot going on at the time,” she said.

  She snorted a laugh, but her lips fell flat before they could form a smile.

  Maybe if she’d talked about it, maybe if I had helped her open up rather than just walking away, things might have been different. Guilt weighed heavy and I stepped forward, kneeling back beside her and pulling her undamaged cheek to mine.

  I didn't know how to reply. I wanted to know so much. I wanted to know if I’d made the whole situation worse.

  “What about Terry and Anne?” I said without thought as a vision of their faces sparked into my head. Their names sounded weird in my voice.

  When she pulled away, pushing her head into her hands, I kicked myself as I drew a deep breath and rubbed the back of her head.

  Toni tried to stand but fell back to the chair before trying a second time. Breath sucked through her teeth as she put weight on her feet.

  I stood, taking a step back and watched a brightness appear on her face as she looked around the van, eyeing the boxes of cameras and equipment secured by cargo straps to the shelves.

  “Does this stuff work?” she said, her features pointed to a frown.

  “Of course it does,” I said, scowling at the question, but my annoyance disappeared as I watched the smile rise on her lips.

  “Do you know what we should do?” she said, but spoke again before I could answer. “We should get this story out there. Break this wide open.”

  “You think?” I said, a wide smile hanging from my lips.

  “Our bargain. Fill the tapes with what they want no one to see,” Toni said, her tone rising. “Then she’d have to give us what we need. Come on, let’s get moving. I know just the shot we need.”

  My head filled with excitement at her words. She was saying what I wanted to hear and my mind raced through the possibilities. Then I realised the obvious flaw.

  “One problem,” I said, and she turned back, raising her eyebrows. “Who’s going to film it?” I replied, my brow matching hers.

  She stopped before she spoke with her mouth hanging wide. Her lips then pursed as if the words would come out, but didn’t.

  “I’m in front of the camera,” I said, trying to flatten out my scowl.

  “You don’t…” she said, stopping herself, then laughing before her brow furrowed again to ease the pain. “You don’t know how to use the equipment.”

  “Stop staring at me like I’m an uneducated ape. I’m a journalist. A professional. I have qualifications, experience. This equipment,” I said, looking around and repeating her waving hand gestures, “is state-of-the-art.”

  I paused as my crew’s names stuck in my throat. “The crew who use it train for years. They have special places they go to learn this stuff. It’s not like a compact camera where you just point and shoot.”

  A lopsided smile appeared on her face despite her best efforts; the Toni of old, the Toni who thought I was playing a joke.

  “That’s what they told you, right?” she said, undoing the straps of a rugged plastic case at waist height. She was only just able to take its weight as it left the shelf. I watched with interest as she laid the case down, grunting with relief as it landed to the floor.

  With the clips either side undone, she hovered over, peering in as the lid fell back. She surveyed the large hulk of black plastic and metal sat on the dimpled foam, its surface covered in tiny buttons, each with a foreign symbol or minuscule white writing beside.

  I looked back, my cheeks bunching with a closed-lip smile. My brow raised as I waited.

  “Go on then,” I said when she didn’t move.

  “There must be a smaller one, right?” she said, turning but looking away as she saw my expression.

  I shook my head, watching as she closed up the case and helped lift its bulk back to the shelf.

  We barely had the strap across its front before a metallic thud came from the back doors, the echo repeating somewhere inside.

  Our eyes locked, peeling away before turning to the back doors. Our collective breath drew in as we saw the small hole in the door, its jagged metal pushed out towards us.

  I followed Toni’s look as she turned, stopping when we saw a matching hole by the director’s chair where Toni had been sitting only moments before.

  26

  “Stray shot. Right?” I said before Toni had the chance to speak.

  Wide eyes were her only reply.

  “It’s not safe here,” I said, turning towards the cab.

  “You can drive?” Toni said, her voice slow.

  I half expected a smile, but as I turned I saw a cold, blank expression.

  She knew I could drive. I’d driven to meet her so many times. I’d driven halfway across the country full of anticipation, my head bursting with excitement at what lay ahead. Days later I’d driven home. Deflated. Tears spent.

  After a week of heaven, the bubble would always burst and I’d promise myself never to open up again, never to think we could be any other way. Never to daydream we could be together. Could never build on the good times, ditch all the pain.

  “You know I can drive,” I said, turning away, climbing between the front seats as I peered through the windscreen. My gaze caught on the sea of movement, the car park dotted with people walking.

  But they weren’t people anymore. Their slow walk told me they weren’t making their own decisions, told me their desire to fill the burning hunger drove them.

  I found the keys still in the ignition. I was so overjoyed to see them dangling my mind didn’t consider there could be a good reason.

  Looking through the right-wing mirror, my survey caught the white side panel and the flared hole in the centre before falling to the mess
of flesh slumped to the tarmac.

  “Stray shot,” I said under my breath.

  Toni caught my eye as she settled into the passenger seat, pulling her belt across with the engine roaring to life.

  “Where now?” I said, as I pulled the van from its space, scouring the surroundings for the exit.

  I flashed a look in her direction when she didn’t reply; the raise of her hand told me she didn’t want her thoughts disturbed.

  Still, I saw no life as I slowly drove through the narrow lanes, the dead following between the cars to cut across our path.

  A soldier appeared from around a drab olive truck. I slammed on the brakes, the belt pulling tight against my chest.

  My first thoughts were for the sniper who’d saved our lives. The second for those who’d come to take us.

  I stepped on the accelerator before the third thought came to mind, steering the wheel into the figure as I saw the huge welt down the side of its face and the milky white eyes fixed in a stare as its mouth snapped open and closed.

  Bile rose from my empty stomach as the crunch of bone carried up through the suspension.

  I turned to Toni to see her eyes closed and head shaking as if trying her best not to spoil her concentration.

  I couldn’t avoid the next few; took them out one after the other. Each time my reaction lessened, my pause grew shorter and my gaze scarcely stopped on their shape as I scoured the horizon for a break in the fence.

  I found it moments later; not a break, but the way out. A thick sliding gate of green steel barring our exit. On both sides a white and red barrier stretched across the deserted road.

  I headed towards it without waiting, steering to take down anything that stood in our way whilst ignoring their gawking faces, knowing they fixed any thoughts on how they could get to our taste.

  I sped to the gate but without surprise it stayed fixed in place. There was no way we were getting through without a tank and I hadn’t seen one of those yet.

  “Toni,” I snapped in her direction and she opened her eyes, fumbling in her pockets.

  I turned around to the side of the gate and noticed for the first time a panel with a green LED blinking at its top.

  “It’s on,” I replied and I turned to Toni, still searching. My gaze passed her by, instead landing on the small crowd of the dead I saw through the window heading in our direction.

  A soldier headed the shambling group of five. Behind him, other soldiers followed, as did an Asian man in a white coat, shuffling forward with a pronounced limp. Around his neck hung a white card on a lanyard, swinging from side to side.

  “No,” Toni snapped, and I caught her turning back from the same direction. “I’ll go.”

  I couldn’t let her do that. Only moments earlier she’d been out cold.

  “Give me the gun,” I said, but she shook her head, unable to stop her gaze darting back toward the rear compartment.

  “No,” she replied, her voice sharp as she gave her command. With her tone, the guilt I’d felt only moments earlier fell from around me and I stood before she could rise and reached between the seats.

  Toni didn’t try and follow.

  She stayed watching from her seat as I took the gun from the side where she’d placed it to pull the vials from the bag.

  With one in the chamber and five bullets in the magazine, I would have a spare.

  Cold air bit between the gap as the door opened wide and, regretting leaving the warmth of the van, I pushed it shut at my back.

  Turning as I felt the sticky handle, I saw the ink blot of dark blood splattered above the jagged hole in the metal. I shuddered as I caught the air, the chill of the icy wind carrying the foul stench of sewerage, but my gaze turned to find the source of the moaning voice.

  I had no time. The group were only a few paces away.

  Pulling the gun up, I took aim, choosing the soldier at the front. Closing my left eye, I centred on his forehead.

  The shot missed, but I’d got their attention. In one fluid motion, each of the creatures turned, faces electrifying with energy, mouths slapping shut and eyes gaping to show their full whites.

  I took a step closer. I couldn’t miss at this distance, with barely the length of the van between us. I centred my aim again whilst trying not to let the incessant groan distract me.

  I fired. The shot might as well have missed as it pushed through the soldier’s neck, thick blood hardly filling the space left before I fired three times more to put him to the floor.

  With a single shot left, I looked to the van, turning just in time to catch a clawed hand as it swiped for my back.

  The final bullet ripped through a scientist’s head, sending my eyes wide as I stared at the white plastic pass hanging from its neck.

  I twisted back around, breath panting as I aimed, the click of the empty chamber echoing in the cold wind.

  With the group’s slow procession nearly at its destination, I turned with one last dash, bending over and snatching the lanyard from the fallen scientist’s neck.

  About to stand, I felt fingers claw down my back and I swung my fist in an upper cut with all my strength, hoping it was enough to send the creature’s jawbone into its head.

  27

  There was little time to pull the punch before Toni’s head deflected left, my knuckles glancing along the side of her face. Her teeth clamped together as she grabbed me up with her face in a scowl, sending me surging into the open back of the van.

  Her hand slammed the door against limbs reaching through to the sound of distant gunfire. Blood sprayed between the gap; metal crushed soft tissue until the fingers fell loose to the van floor and let the lock catch.

  Scrabbling back along the floor of the van, I pushed my arms out in front with my palms out as I tried to put as much distance between us as I could, waiting for Toni’s voice to boom.

  When the tirade hadn’t come, I looked between my hands to see Toni curled up on the floor with her hands covering her face as she sucked through her teeth.

  Jumping up, I leapt to her side at the sight.

  “I’m sorry. So sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” I said, the words alien to my lips as I couldn’t help smear blood from my hands on her t-shirt.

  Breath panting, I turned away as she stayed curled up with her hands to her face.

  Pulling my skirt down over my cold legs she eventually lifted herself upright, her face tensed with pain and she pulled away her hands.

  “Sorry,” I said as she raised her eyebrows in my direction.

  “It was a good shot.” She continued to rub her cheek.

  “No, the opposite. I didn’t mean... I thought…” I said, but she cut me off and stood.

  “I know,” she replied, stepping past me as I stayed sat, doing my best to keep my breath running out of control.

  “They split because of me,” Toni said, and it took me a moment to realise she was answering the question I’d regretted earlier. I paused but when she didn’t speak I spoke softly.

  “It can’t be your fault,” I said. She looked up, her face sharp and features pointed with anger.

  “They lied to me for years. I didn’t know it at the time, but the pressure of keeping up appearances for so long, working out answers to the questions I had growing up. Why was I the only one with dark hair? Why was I taller than everyone else in the family? Why didn’t I have my dad’s nose?”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t…” I said but she wouldn’t let me finish.

  “I left home and they realised the lie was all they had. They had nothing to be together for and boom, their marriage just collapsed. Dad had an affair and Mum, the one who brought me up...” She paused as the emotion caught in her throat. “Mum just vanished. Just over a year ago she came back and told me the woman I’d been working for all this time was my birth mother. She’d got me here. She engineered for me to join the team. Looking back, I can see it now. Looking back, I can see how she manipulated all my choices from behind the scenes. And now
here we are.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I edged forward and pushed my arms around her, but she stood with her hands out just enough to push me away.

  “Not here,” she said and moved past me, slumping to the passenger seat and stared off into the distance as I sat in the driver’s seat, checking in the mirror as I wound the window down.

  “I guess we have a friend out there,” I said, almost in a whisper whilst letting my breath run out.

  “You shouldn’t have gone out,” she said, ignoring my words. “It was a stupid thing to do. A risk we didn’t need to take.”

  “I got the pass,” I replied, dangling the bloody lanyard at the reader.

  She didn’t turn. I knew this Toni, too; it was the Toni that came out each time we got to the end of our bliss, each time we figured out the fun and the long carefree days had to end. We would be back to our lives, each time realising it should be the last. Time to move on.

  It was the Toni that came before the arguments. Before the real pain. It was the Toni I knew I had to get away from before one of us flipped up the cover and pressed the self-destruct button, jabbing it over and again.

  This time I couldn’t leave; we couldn’t separate. Our lives depended on being together, helping each other.

  The gate slid without a noise, a beacon flashing on either side. The barrier lifted as we passed through, closing at our backs with gunfire clearing the air.

  The strays fell as they tried to follow in our wake. We were free. Out. We’d saved ourselves.

  The realisation came again. Only Toni was safe and I knew she wouldn’t be for long if I couldn’t get more of those vials which kept me feeling human.

  “Where do we go?” I said, letting the van coast around the winding road, cutting through the shallow hills either side. “Where did your mother go?” I added when she didn’t reply.

  “Don’t call her that,” she snapped back and I felt an all too familiar emotion circling my head.