IMPACT_A Post-Apocalyptic Tale_The Complete Series

by Matthew Eliot

  He’s a worm, though Adrian, a harmless worm.

  Alice stood next to him and, with a warm motion of her eyebrows, she gestured to him to leave. Adrian nodded.

  They turned their backs to the man and began to make their way up and away from the beach. Adrian was almost sure they needed to head north, then east a little. It shouldn’t be too hard to find Bately.

  As they climbed a grassy slope that rose between the white rocks, they heard the man behind them call out. “Stick close to that young lad!” he cried. “He’s a good boy!”

  Alice smiled and took his hand.

  Chapter 14

  The Southern Outpost

  They had wind in their hair.

  It was odd for this minute detail to impose itself so clearly, but Paul couldn’t remember when he’d last been inside a moving vehicle.

  He couldn’t help but smile as he watched his companions’ hair dance crazily, powered by the powerful gusts of air pouring into the vehicle.

  “Fun, isn’t it?” asked Catherine, one hand on her temple in an attempt to tame an unruly lock of hair. Paul smiled. It was.

  They were travelling south, towards the Southern Outpost, the five of them quite comfortable inside the army Range Rover. It was going to be a short ride, but they were enjoying the speed. Once inside the LMM-ready Wolf speeds would decrease significantly.

  They were escorted by Lance Corporal Billings, who had helped with their awkward firearms training, and Lieutenant Robert Neeson, a serious-looking 23-year-old man who had, Bill told them, been wounded in action. A long jagged scar, running from his forehead and disappearing beneath his shirt collar, was a life-long reminder of that unfortunate experience.

  “Have things been difficult with the ‘wraiths in Bately?” asked Moore, turning his head towards Catherine, who sat at the opposite end of the passenger seat. Paul occupied the seat between them.

  “It has, yes,” she replied. “Ahm… I prefer the term ‘afflicted’, although there is no correct medical term, as it were.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Moore, apologetically, “I suppose it’s not as harsh.”

  “Yes, I agree. Nero’s Affliction. I wonder who came up with the name,” said Catherine, pensively.

  “Must have been someone on Sean’s bulletin boards, online,” said Paul. “They seem to have a predilection for these names. You know, like something out of a fantasy novel or a video game–”

  “Or the Bible,” interjected Catherine and immediately blushed, her milky-white Gaelic skin turning red. She quickly turned to look outside the window.

  “Europa carried the plague too though, didn’t it?” asked Moore, apparently oblivious to Cathy’s faux pas. “I doubt the infection could have spread so rapidly to the West otherwise.”

  “I believe they all did,” said Paul. “Although I’ve heard the effects of being exposed to Nero’s area of impact are far worse than what we’ve seen here.”

  They were quiet for an instant, each silently considering the atrocity of an even more ruthless form of the affliction.

  “Here we are, people,” said Billings from the driver’s seat, jolting his passengers from haunting images of tortured souls.

  * * *

  The Southern Outpost was little more than a shed.

  As they stepped out of the vehicle, Paul thought it looked vulnerable and defenceless against the formidable view of the stormy Channel waters before it.

  The two men stationed there, Privates Jack Wallace and Tim Greene, snapped to attention as their superiors approached the cabin.

  “Bill’s really got these boys trained properly, hasn’t he?” said Catherine under her breath as she nodded towards the men.

  “At ease,” said Neeson, waving down their salutes. “All good, here?”

  “Yessir,” said Tim. “We had a pretty bad storm, earlier, but things are quieter now. Doubt we’ll see any refugees with this weather, Sir.”

  Neeson nodded, eyes on the waves below.

  “Tim, Jack, we’re going to take the Wolf. We’re headed to Ashford to try and pick up some meds. Mr. Moore here believes he can lead us to them,” explained Billings. As the four Guard members discussed the details of their expedition, Paul walked over to Edward who was standing close to the cliff’s edge, hands in his pockets, admiring the view. He reminded Paul of Caspar David Friedrich’s Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog, his silhouette dark against the elements.

  “There’s still beauty in the world, isn’t there, Father?” he asked Paul without turning towards him.

  “I believe so.”

  “Except, it’s a frightening kind of beauty, isn’t it? One that has forgotten mankind. Left it behind.”

  They breathed in the heavy sea air, pregnant with water.

  “I’m of the belief that there is no such thing as beauty without mankind, or its gods.”

  “Gods?” asked Moore, surprised by the plural, an eyebrow slightly raised.

  “Well,” said Paul with a smile, “one must at least be courteous enough to acknowledge the other attempts at describing the Almighty, wrong as they may be.”

  Moore smiled too.

  They gazed at the sea and the sky, each lashing out at the other as if in some sort of primordial elemental war. A chaotic passageway to the even greater chaos Europe had fallen in.

  They were about to turn and rejoin the others when they heard Catherine’s voice a couple of feet behind them.

  “Who’s that?”

  The two men peered down at the beach.

  And indeed there was someone.

  The three of them observed a single, solitary figure slowly making its way along the wet sand towards them.

  Chapter 15

  Alice and Adrian

  They were lost.

  The mist had crept in from the sea, wrapping its spectral mantle around the countryside. The two children had stumbled through it, hand in hand, sometimes not able even to see past an arm’s length in front of them. They’d looked out for sign posts and tried to find their way on the tattered map Alice carried in her rucksack, but it was impossible to pinpoint exactly where they were.

  “Dammit,” said Adrian. “Sorry ‘bout this, Ally.” He felt like he’d failed her. It wasn’t a good feeling.

  “It’s okay,” she said, squeezing his hand in hers, affectionately. “I’m sure we’re close, anyway.”

  “Yes, we can’t be far,” he replied. But the truth was, he had no idea how far they might be. Perhaps they’d been heading in the wrong direction for hours. If that were the case, he wondered how long it might take them to get back on track if they ever did find the way. The last thing he wanted was to have to spend another night in the open. What if they were heading straight for a gang of meteorwraiths? What if they came across a maniac, someone like the guy on the boat, but one that would actually harm Alice? What if–

  “There’s a cottage,” said Alice.

  Adrian had been peering down at his worn shoes, hypnotized by their rhythmic coming and going.

  He looked up. And there it was, an isolated house with an oil lamp hanging above the front door, its light weak but steady.

  “It looks all right,” she said, and for some reason, he agreed. There was something orderly and welcoming about it. Somewhere a happy family might live.

  Adrian stared at the place, his eyebrows twisted in a frown. Alice observed his concentrated brow, guessing his thoughts.

  “Okay Ady,” she said. “Listen. I know what you’re thinking. You’d like to try it out, but you don’t know if it’s safe, right? And when I say ‘safe’, what I mean is you don’t know if it’s safe for me.”

  Adrian looked at her, surprised.

  “Yes,” she continued, “you always worry about me. Never about you. You shouldn’t, because you make me feel stupid. But anyway. This is what we’ll do: you go ahead and knock on the door. If someone opens, I’ll hide. You take a look inside and – if you feel it’s safe – you’ll come and call me.”

  “But�
��” Adrian started.

  “Wait. I’m getting to that. If I see something dangerous out here, I’ll call out. Okay?”

  “O-okay…” said Adrian, not knowing quite what to add.

  Still confused, he stumbled forward through the mist towards the cottage. When he threw a glance over his shoulder, he saw Alice standing there with a smile on her face. What a girl, he thought to himself.

  The house did indeed look neat. It had a small garden that had been converted to a vegetable patch. Cabbages mostly, but it was well-kept. Adrian felt a surge of confidence. Perhaps this would be a good place to seek hospitality, and maybe enquire about how to get to Bately.

  We can’t be that far. Whoever lives here will know where Bately is, he told himself.

  As he got closer, he tried to peer through the windows, but curtains were drawn and he couldn’t see past them. But he did notice that a cosy candle light emanated from inside.

  Adrian walked to the door and knocked three times in fast succession.

  For an instant nothing seemed to move beyond the door. He turned to where he’d left Alice, and noticed she was lying low in the grass. Good, he thought. He didn’t want her to be immediately visib–

  “Coming!” a voice called from inside the house. It was a young man’s voice. It was a friendly voice.

  Adrian heard a muffled sound of footsteps against creaky wood. It was a comfy, familiar sound.

  The door opened, and a man in his late twenties appeared. He wore a woolly jumper – like the ones Aunt Hellen had knitted once upon a time – and had neatly trimmed brown hair. The man looked down at Adrian, surprised.

  “Well, hi there, young man.”

  “Hello, sir. Umm-”

  “It’s freezing outside,” the man seemed genuinely concerned. He gestured towards the living room behind him where a warm fire burned in a stone fireplace. “Come in. Are you alone?”

  “Yes, I am,” he replied. He could always tell him about Alice once he was sure the place was safe.

  “Well, come on in then, boy.”

  Adrian stepped through the open door, feeling a mild nausea at the thought of losing sight of Alice. This will only take a minute, then I’ll go and fetch her, he told himself.

  The room he entered was small but very welcoming. There were books piled everywhere, in a sort of messy way that Adrian found agreeable. Two plates were laid out on the table with cheese and bread sitting on them, still untouched. The sight of food made Adrian’s mouth water.

  “I’m sorry about the mess,” the young man said. “We’ve been so busy. We’ve hardly had any time at all to tidy the place up.”

  Adrian shook his head, as if to say it was fine. “‘We’?” he asked. Who else was here?

  “Oh, yes, my wife, Rachel. She’s not been too well, lately, so I’m the only one who can tend to the house at the moment.”

  “Oh,” said Adrian. “I’m sorry about that.” He thought this was the right thing to say. Plus, he was beginning to like this man. Cautiously, of course. His rule was to trust no one.

  The man shook his head. “No need to worry, she’ll be fine,” he said with a smile. “What’s your name?”

  “Adrian.”

  “That’s a very important name. It belonged to a Roman emperor, you know that?”

  Adrian smiled, rarely did anyone mention this. “Yes, I know,” he said proudly.

  “I’m Bob. There are a few important Roberts, in history, but none quite as important as Adrian.”

  “It’s okay,” said Adrian, and immediately felt very stupid. He doubted Bob needed any reassurances about his name.

  “Anyway, what are you doing all alone in this fog?”

  “I think I’m lost.”

  “Where were you headed?”

  “A place called Bately.”

  “Bately?” asked Bob, rubbing his chin.

  “Do you know it?”

  “Oh yes, of course. But you’re a bit far off, especially if you’re on foot, which I presume you are.”

  Adrian nodded.

  “Hmm, let me think.”

  Adrian looked around. There were at least five lit candles inside the room. Their light shimmered and danced, reflecting on a number of photos hanging on the walls. Most of them showed Bob and a pretty young woman about his age in various places. Adrian recognized the Eiffel Tower, the Coliseum, and what he thought might be the Great Wall of China. They looked happy. Whatever was wrong with that pretty lady, Adrian hoped it was nothing serious.

  “Well,” began Bob. “I have no means of transport, so I can’t really take you there. And I’m stuck here as long as Rachel is sick. But you can wait for the fog to lift and have lunch with us. Then you can be on your way.”

  “That… that sounds great.”

  “I’m sorry about the stench, by the way,” said Bob apologetically. “We’ve made a compost pit in the backyard and although it’s tiny, it really does smell pretty bad.”

  Adrian hadn’t noticed, but now that the young man pointed it out, he definitely noticed that the air smelled a little off.

  “In any case,” added Bob, “as I said, we’d be happy to have you, if you’re up for it.”

  “Are you sure?” Adrian’s mind was made up, this place seemed fine. It was likely okay to tell Bob about Alice if they were really willing to provide them food and shelter.

  “‘Course we are, Adrian. Take a seat at the table or on the sofa. Wherever you’d like. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go fetch Rachel.”

  Maybe I should check out his wife, too, before I call Alice, he thought. But he wasn’t sure. She’d been alone for what? Three minutes? Five? Nonetheless, he felt it was too much.

  Before he could make his mind up, Bob waved a funny wave and disappeared up a set of stairs in the far corner of the room.

  Adrian crept to the window by the entrance. He shifted the small curtain aside, trying to spot Alice. But it was hard with the light within the room darkening the view outside.

  Adrian shifted his weight from one foot to another. All appeared to be fine, but there was something nagging at him, like an annoying itch he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

  He heard Bob whispering upstairs. “… he’s just a young boy, I’m sure it’s safe.” It was reassuring to hear Bob was slightly wary too.

  “I told him he could stay for lunch, ‘kay?” said Bob, upstairs. The floorboards creaked in the room above Adrian, and he heard Bob again, now slightly croaky, like he was lifting something heavy, “Aaaaall right, here we go, hold on to me.”

  It was then that Adrian noticed an odd sound, similar to the static you heard when an old analogue radio wasn’t properly tuned.

  It was coming from up the stairs.

  * * *

  Alice waited for Adrian to enter the house before she moved.

  He was so sweet, but his constant concern for her safety was a bit overwhelming. The feeling of protection she got from him was nice, but she wasn’t a kid. Well, she told herself, I am, but not like that.

  She crept towards the house, the damp grass drawing dark lines on her red Converse shoes. Most of the windows had their curtains drawn, but one on the side of the little cottage was slightly ajar. She neared that one and peeked inside.

  Adrian was talking to a handsome man in his twenties. Her friend was nervous, but – she thought – the man looked friendly enough. He stood a couple of steps away from Ady, in a sort of respectful, nonthreatening way. He gesticulated quite a bit, elegantly moving his big hands in the air. Adrian seemed to like him, too. But she could also see he wasn’t entirely convinced yet.

  She gently ran her fingers across the window, removing the condensation from her breath and looked closely at Adrian. She wondered whether her friends, wherever they were, would have found Ady cute. She thought he probably was, but there was always something slightly sad about him, although she couldn’t quite put it in words.

  The young man said something, then turned and hopped up a staircase. Adrian was alone n
ow. It felt strange and a bit mean to stand here spying on him. Although he was a year older than her, seeing him all alone in that empty room made him look so small, so young. She felt her heart skip a beat, filling with the urge to rush inside and hold his hand.

  Alice observed Adrian as he slowly walked to the front door and peered through a window. Doubtless, he was trying to spot her.

  There were noises coming from upstairs. Hushed words she couldn’t make out.

  Ady turned to the staircase and edged towards it, a polite smile on his face.

  Then his smile turned into something else. Something terrified.

  Her eyes darted to the staircase. What she saw made her press the palms of her hands tight against her lips to stop herself from screaming.

  The man, that polite man who had been speaking to Adrian just a minute ago, was now walking down the stairs. Her mind registered the image, but something inside her refused to understand it for a couple of seconds.

  He was carrying a dead woman in his arms. Her skin was dark, as if bruised all over, and her mouth open in a rigid, crooked grimace. One of her arms was sticking outwards, as if she were reaching for something, but at an odd angle. In stark contrast to all of this, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and her long, shiny hair appeared to have been combed with care. The bloated elbows and rotting skin were those of someone who had died of the Affliction.

  All around the couple swarmed a dark cloud of flies, each engaged in their restless trajectories.

  The man, saw Alice, was smiling.

  * * *

  Adrian couldn’t move.

  When he saw Bob, saw what he was carrying, it felt like something inside him had come loose, detached somehow, and fallen deep in the pit of his stomach.

  “This is Adrian, Rachel. He’s our special guest.”

  Bob had a loving smile on his face as he gently lowered his burden into one of the chairs at the dining table. Her head flopped with a dull thud against the wood. Bob looked up and spoke to Adrian through the buzzing whirlwind of flies that surrounded him. “I’m afraid we only have a bit of cheese and bread, but we’re happy to share.”