Surviving the Fall: How England Died

by Stephen Cross

  Angie shook her head. “I’m fine love, my leg isn’t too bad tonight. Managed to get to the bathroom and stand for a good few minutes.”

  Mac changed into his pyjamas, “Well that’s good to hear, life in you yet!”

  Angie laughed and threw a pillow at him, “Enough life in me to give you trouble, Bill MacIntyre!”

  Mac caught the pillow and threw it back beside her, smiling as he did so. “I don’t doubt there is my dear.”

  He quickly went to the toilet and cleaned his teeth, then climbed into bed. He pulled his wife close to him, getting comfortable. Then he frowned. “Dammit. I forgot something.”

  “What is it?”

  “Never mind, I’ll just be a minute.”

  Mac made his way downstairs again, turning sharp right at the bottom of the stairs to the cellar door. He opened it and descended the stairs, turned on the dim light and fought his way past beer kegs and pipes to find what he was looking for. Tucked away in the corner of the room was an old crowbar.

  He gripped it tightly with two hands and felt the weight before making a practise swing. It felt stiff and heavy in his arms. He swung it a few more times until used to the action.

  Mac took the crowbar with him back upstairs, the mumbled conversation of the two drunks at the bar drifting up behind him.

  “What do you need that for?” asked Angie when he got back to the bedroom.

  “Just to be on the safe side. You know what people are like when their TVs aren’t working.” The joke fell flat. He could see the worry in Angie’s eyes.

  “You really think things here might go, well, like in London?” she said.

  Mac shook his head. “Not at all love, but you know me, still an old boy scout, best be prepared, dib dib dob.”

  “I’ll dib dob you…” She cuddled in next to Mac. He turned off the light and lay still, his worry keeping him awake. He couldn’t let Angie see him worried, scared even, but he was. He felt his heart beating fast and strong under his pyjamas. He reached his left hand down beside the bed and felt the cold metal of the crowbar. In reach. Good.

  Mac awoke with a start. Another bang on his door, and Gaz’s voice, high with panic calling his name. Mac grabbed the crowbar and jumped out of bed.

  “What is it?” shouted Angie.

  “It’s Gaz, don’t worry love, I’ll sort it out.”

  Mac opened the door and slipped out into the corridor, closing his bedroom door behind him. Gaz stood in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, his thin frame even more apparent without his usual baggy layers.

  “What the hell are you doing? It’s three in the bloody morning,” hissed Mac with a quick glance at his watch.

  Even in the darkness of the corridor, Gaz looked scared. “You have to come downstairs - someone is trying to get in.”

  “What?” Mac didn’t wait for any further explanation and charged downstairs.

  Johnny, still dressed, was leaning up against the front door. The only light was that of the optics from behind the bar. A half empty whiskey bottle sat on the bar - it looked like Johnny had been having himself a late night party.

  The front door rattled against the bolts and a muffled voice came from outside.

  “Who is it?” whispered Mac as he sneaked up beside Johnny.

  “Don’t know. I was having a few more drinks, and suddenly the door started banging. I ran up, woke Gaz, told him to get you - thought I should get back down here and guard the door, like. Sounds like a man and woman.”

  As if to confirm this, a woman’s voice from the other side of the door shouted, “Please, someone, open the door, my husband is injured, he’s been attacked.” The voice was that of a youngish woman, but it was shrill with fear, and punctuated by sobs.

  Mac motioned to Johnny and Gaz to stay by the door. He tread lightly to the bay of seats to the left of the door. The window there would allow him to look outside.

  He opened a tiny gap in the curtain, being careful to allow no light out. His pub stood on a country road leaving the town of Frome, with no buildings nearby and therefore no other lights.

  His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw two shapes. The larger figure, the man, sat against the wall of the pub, not moving, holding his neck. The woman was up against the door. Shouting, banging on the door. She looked frantic, like a rabbit, her head turning in all directions, as if being hunted.

  Mac returned to the two by the door.

  “Do we let them in?” said Johnny.

  The banging on the door became more frantic, “Please! Let us in, he’s going to die!”

  Mac shook his head. “We let no one in. He’s been attacked, you know what that means?”

  Johnny nodded and Gaz said, “What you mean?”

  “The virus, you idiot,” said Mac.

  The woman banged again, her shouts now more like sobs.

  Gaz looked at the door, then at Mac and Johnny, “Maybe he don’t have it, maybe it was a big dog or something?”

  Mac didn’t respond, but held his ear against the door, listening.

  Johnny looked at Gaz and held up his finger to his lips.

  The banging stopped, but the crying continued.

  “Sounds like she’s giving up,” said Johnny.

  “Aye,” whispered Mac. He sneaked round to the window again and peeked out to see the woman kneeling by the man, her arms around him, her body rocking with sobs. “They’re on their way out of here, I reckon.”

  Suddenly the lights came on. Mac squinted in the sudden brightness as he pulled the curtain shut, but he knew it was too late, the woman’s head had snapped round at the light.

  “Bill MacIntyre, you let those poor people in,” said Angie, who was stood at the bottom of the stairs. She was in her nightgown, holding on to the door frame, breathing heavily, sweat on her brow. Her left hand held on tight to her walking stick, shaking.

  “Bloody hell woman, what the hell are you doing down here! You’ll bloody kill yourself coming down those stairs,” he ran to her and took her by the arm. She shrugged him off and pushed him away, nearly falling over as she did so.

  “You let them in Mac! We don’t turn away people who need help!”

  Mac, surprised at the sudden ferocity in his wife took a step back. He looked back to the door of the pub, where the banging and shouting had returned, with increased vigour. Johnny and Gaz stood still, knowing this was not their argument.

  “Mac, let them in.”

  Mac shook his head and held out his hands. “We can’t, Angie, you don’t understand, they might have that virus, we let them in and we’ll all get it.”

  Angie steadied herself on the frame of the door and took a few steps forward to prop herself up on the side of the bar. She let go her hold and took a few tentative steps. Her legs shook.

  “We ain’t never turned anyone away from here that needed help.”

  Mac stood rooted to the spot as his wife struggled towards him. As much as he wanted to help her, he knew she wouldn’t let him.

  “And I didn’t marry no coward,” she breathed as she got within a few steps of Mac, the pain apparent on her face. “Now, you open those doors, and you help those people.”

  She fell the last few feet into Mac’s arms and let out a small moan.

  Mac grabbed her tight and quickly lifted up her slight body. He turned to the two by the door. “Let them in. Be careful. Any funny business…” He nodded to the crowbar he’d left propped up by the door.

  Mac carried his wife upstairs. “You silly old bat,” he said. “You know how to push my buttons alright.”

  He laid her down on the bed. She forced her eyes opened and smiled at Mac. “Told you I still had it in me.”

  Mac kissed her on the forehead. “I’d best get back down to make sure those two turnips don’t do something daft…”

  The injured man was laid out on one of the tables, the girl holding his hand and sobbing, her head down. Johnny stood by the man, his fingers pressing against the man’s neck, feeling for a pulse.
A trail of blood led from the door to the table, its source obvious - the man had a large gash in his neck, a large square of flesh hung back exposing the man’s tendons. Blood was pooling slowly on the table.

  Johnny shook his head at Mac.

  “He’s dead?” whispered Mac, being careful the girl couldn’t hear him. Johnny shrugged. Mac came over and felt for a pulse. He felt nothing. The slowly trickling blood suggested he had bleed out. There was nothing left to give.

  “Have you phoned an ambulance?”

  Johnny held up his mobile phone, “Dead. Land line dead too.”

  Mac felt the man’s chest, no rise or fall, no beat.

  Maybe if he had opened the door earlier…

  He sat down next to the woman. “Hello love, my name’s Mac, this is my pub.”

  She looked up at him. Young, maybe in her late twenties, brunette, her cheeks stained with mascara and eyes red with crying. “He’s dead isn’t he?”

  Mac nodded. “I think so.”

  She sat back on the chair and let out a sob, a hopeless empty sound. Mac looked down to her two hands, holding her pregnant belly. Mac closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wished Angie was still here, she’d know what to say.

  He took her hand. “Why don’t you come upstairs, we can get you a room. You can rest up for the night.” He nearly said that things would seem better in the morning, but he suspected that things would get worse.

  She snatched her hand away from him and let out an angry cry. “That bastard! He just jumped at us, from nowhere, just grabbed Ed and bit him on the neck, like an animal. Ed pushed him, and then we ran. He killed him.”

  “They’ll catch him,” said Mac.

  “Bu they won’t will they? It’s the virus. That virus that we’ve been seeing all over the world, it’s here isn’t it?”

  Mac nodded. “It might be.”

  She wiped the tears from her face. “Get me a drink. A whiskey.”

  Mac motioned to her belly, “Are you sure you should be…”

  “Get me a fucking drink!”

  Mac nodded to Johnny who was already on his way to the bar. He poured a generous glass for everyone.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just don’t… I just don’t feel that any of this is real. It all feels like I’m not here somehow, things like this shouldn’t happen. Am I in shock?”

  “You might be. Thanks Johnny.” Mac took a sip of his whiskey and passed a glass to the woman.

  Gaz sat down on the other side of the woman, “What’s you name?”

  “Ellie,” she said.

  “I’m Gaz. This is Johnny.”

  She didn’t respond.

  Gaz said, “We’re all staying here tonight. Mac and his wife are real stand up, you won’t find better. They’ll look after you, especially Angie. She’s in bed, but you can meet her tomorrow.”

  “We have to call someone,” said Ellie, ignoring Gaz and turning to Mac. “Don’t they need to know if someone is dead? The police, the ambulance?”

  “Phones is dead,” said Johnny.

  Mac said in a soft voice, “You should stay here. I’ll sort you out a room. I can walk down to the town tomorrow and get the right thing done for your Ed.”

  Her eyes met Mac’s and he looked into a vacant sadness. “It’s not safe to go out, is it?” she said.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Ok. I’ll stay here. Thank you.”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Mac opened the curtains to see a beautiful, bright and sunny day. He looked across the farmland towards Frome, and saw a few plumes of smoke rising from the town. The TVs where out, but it didn’t matter - the news had come to his town.

  “Shall I go see her?” said Angie as she sat in the bed.

  Mac yawned, he had hardly slept after the arrival of Ellie and Ed. “It may be best if you do. I felt all clumsy last night, didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t give her a hug, could I? Big lump like me. Lat thing she would have wanted.”

  Angie eased herself out of bed and get her walking sticks. “I’m sure you did right.” She pushed on the sticks and stood up. “Pregnant you say? So sad. That little one without a Dad now.” Mac saw tears in her eyes.

  “I’ll go make a few cups of tea for you both,” said Mac.

  “Aye, you do that.”

  The kitchen was downstairs, behind the pub lounge. He set the kettle boiling and went to check on the pub.

  Ed’s body was no longer on the table. The bloody sheet that had covered him was on the floor a few metres away from the table, rolled up as if it had been dragged.

  “Shit,” said Mac. His first thought was that Johnny or Gaz had moved the body, but why would they do that? They had all gone up to bed together, why would one of them come down to move the body?

  Maybe Ed hadn’t been dead… “Hello?” he said softly, scared. His pub had never seemed to silent.

  The kettle started to whistle and Mac jumped. “Stupid bugger,” he said to himself.

  Angie knocked gently on Ellie’s door. She heard a muffled voice say, “Come in.”

  “Hello, I’m Angie… How are you?”

  Ellie lay in the bed on her side, starting straight ahead, her eyes red and puffy. She made no answer.

  “Do you mind if I sit down?” Ellie continued to stare unblinking, not recognising Angie’s presence, who eased herself down on the bed.

  “You poor girl,” said Angie as she rested her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “It’s been a terrible time for you. I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling.”

  Ellis sniffed. “No, you can’t,” she whispered.

  “It must feel like the end of the world.” Angie moved a little closer to Ellie, “But you must know that there is a way through this.”

  Ellie made a snorting sound. “My husband was killed by something biting his neck apart, and I am seven months pregnant. How the hell do you think I am going to get through this?”

  “Can I tell you something?”

  Ellie made no movement.

  “I’ve been married to Mac now for nearly forty years. We’ve been in this pub for almost all those years. I’ve seen all sorts of tragedies, and I’ve seen people get through them. We even got through our own tragedy, many years ago. Do you mind if I tell you?”

  Ellie glanced at Angie and shook her head slightly.

  “Well, me and Mac got married when we were young. We got a little bit of money when Mac’s parent’s died and we put it into this pub. We were only in our twenties, maybe the same age as you, and it was tough at first, but it all worked out.

  “With things going well, we decided to start a family. It was the only thing I ever wanted, to be a Mum, have a little baby to look after. Mac was keen too, so soon enough I got pregnant, and we had a little boy, David.

  “Having David was the most wonderful thing in the world. He was the most beautiful, happy baby I’d ever seen. Everyone loved him, always laughing, always happy. Just you wait Ellie, the love you feel for your child is bigger than anything you’ll ever feel in your life.”

  Angie paused for a moment, staring into space, a faint smile on her face.

  Ellie sat up a little, looking at Angie now.

  “David was nine months old when we went to Scarborough, it was the first break we had had in years. We were so looking forward to it, the car was packed up with all David’s things,” she laughed to herself, “It’s amazing how much a little baby needs, but you’ll find out all about that.

  “So there we were driving along the front of North bay. The sun was shining, much like it is today, and we were so happy, me, Mac, and David.

  “And then the van happened. Not a big van, just one of those smaller ones, but it swerved across the road and clipped us. Mac tried to avoid it, but he wasn’t able to do anything. We ended up hitting the barrier and going straight into the sea. It was high tide, so the water was right up against the wall.

  A few tears formed in Angie’s eyes.

  “It wasn’t that
deep, about eight feet or so, but enough for us to sink. I managed to get free, as did Mac, but I couldn’t move my legs, I found out later that a nerve in my back had been damaged. I floated in the water calling for help, trying my best to keep my head above water. ‘My baby,’ I shouted. I remember I shouted that over and over. Eventually some hands grabbed me and swam with me to the shore.

  “Someone had rescued me, and someone else had rescue Mac. He was nearly dead - he had almost killed himself trying to get David out of the car. But it was too late.”

  Several tears flowed freely down Angie’s face. “I saw his little body, lying on the promenade as a man tried to resuscitate him. But he was gone, my poor little angel.”

  “The worst of it is, he never had a chance at life. I keep myself alive by thinking how he must have loved those few short months he did have.”

  “How do you get over something like that?” said Ellie.

  Angie wiped the tears from her face. “Oh, you don’t really, not properly. But we learned to cope, and we learned what is really important in life, and we focus on that. On being kind, on helping people. Like you.” Angie smiled at Ellie.

  Chapter 4

  Mac cursed himself, he had left the crowbar up in the bedroom. He would feel safer with the heavy piece of metal in his hands. He looked around the pub now with eyes of suspicion, each shadow, each noise a potential danger.

  Sneaking up the stairs, he made his way to his room and opened the door slowly. The crowbar still lay on the floor. He took it and walked back into the corridor.

  That’s when he heard the scream.

  “What was that?!” cried Ellie.

  “I don’t know…” said Angie.

  The door flung open, it was Mac. “You two ok?” he said.

  They nodded.

  “Good, stay here, that sounded like Gaz.”

  Mac backed out of the room and walked to the bend in the corridor, where four more rooms where, including where Gaz and Johnny were staying.

  First he saw Johnny, his back to him, and beyond he could make out two figures struggling.