The Road to Ruin: A post-apocalyptic survival series (A World Torn Down Book 1)

by Rebecca Fernfield

  Cassie gags, the thought of the children hauling the bodies out of the cars and taking them out back makes her queasy.

  “And what did you do once you’d taken them out there?”

  “Well, we ...” the boy falters. “We burned them,” he continues, tears welling in his eyes.

  “Hey, hey,” Cassie soothes, wiping her wet hands against the back of her combats before walking to him and putting her arms around his shoulders. “Ray was right you know. Wasn’t he, Rick,” she says looking to the soldier for confirmation. He nods, his face grave, as he looks at the small boy, nestled into Cassie’s waist. “You all did the right thing,” she soothes. “You were all so brave doing that.” She strokes his hair as he grasps her waist firm, a sob making his shoulders heave.

  “My … my …” he sobs, unable to speak, pushing his head further into Cassie’s side.

  “It’s OK, let it out,” she says, patting his shoulders.

  “My mum,” he sobs again, “she was … we had to …”

  Cassie looks up to Rick with dawning realisation as the boy continues trying to speak.

  “Do you mean you had to take your mum out back?” Cassie asks gently.

  “Yes!” the boy replies, his sobs coming hard now, the wet of his tears seeping through Cassie’s top, warm against her skin.

  Cassie’s eyes meet Rick’s, her horror reflected back in his.

  “It’s not right, her being burned. They should’ve buried her. There wasn’t no priest like there’s supposed to be. At Granny’s funeral there was a priest. Mum said it was so she went to God the right way. When they burnt mum there wasn’t no priest. Does that mean she won’t go to heaven? Before she died she said Granny was waiting on her and not to worry, but if there weren’t no priest!”

  “Shh! Yes, of course she’s in heaven. I’m sure she is.”

  “But the words … no one said the words.”

  “OK, but maybe they don’t need to.”

  “They do! They do. Otherwise my mum won’t go to heaven,” he sobs again.

  “We can say the words, Harry,” interrupts Rick. “I know the words. You don’t have to be a priest to say them.” Cassie nods in agreement and mouths ‘thank you’ to him.

  The boy sniffles and looks up to Rick. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he returns and a gentle smile curves onto his lips.

  “Can we do it now?”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah,” he says pulling away from Cassie’s waist and rubbing his sleeve across his wet cheeks. “Please?”

  “OK,” Rick returns putting his arm across the boy’s slim shoulders. “We’ll do it now.”

  The boy smiles up at Cassie and turns to walk out of the kitchen door.

  Rick looks across the open reception area of the service station to the double door that lead outside and then down at Harry.

  “You ready?” he asks as his hand gently squeezes the boy’s shoulder.

  “Yes, I am,” he says quietly and takes Rick’s outheld hand. “Let’s go.”

  Walking with the boy across the tiled floor, the other children, silent beside him, Rick pushes open the heavy glass doors.

  “Hey! Where you going?” Ray’s angry voice shouts across the room.

  What is it with this guy? “We’re going out.”

  “Going where. I didn’t say you could.”

  “Pardon? Since when do you tell m-”

  “Not you! Them. I didn’t say they could go outside.”

  “Well, since when do you have the right to stop them going outside?” Dan returns, standing to join them.

  “They’re my kids!”

  “Your kids?” Cassie exclaims, walking out from the kitchen. “Tell me,” she challenges, “exactly which ones are yours?”

  “They’re all mine.”

  “Please, can we go?” the boy tugs at Rick’s arm, squeezing his hand.

  “Sure, Harry,” he returns smiling down at the anxious eyes looking up at him. “Listen, Ray. We’re going outside to give Harry’s mum her final rite.” He stares at the scowling man, unwavering from the anger in his eyes. “He’s upset that there wasn’t a priest, that no one gave her the last rite, when you … well, when you had your funeral.”

  “Oh!” Ray responds.

  Yeah, that’s right dickhead. So back down.

  “Yes, and we’re going out now whether you give your approval or not.”

  “OK,” Ray returns putting his hands up, palms flat. “I thought you were leaving, that’s all, and they’re my-”

  “OK, Ray,” Rick interrupts. “That’s something else entirely.” To hell they are! “Right now, we’re going to out back and giving Harry’s mum her final rites.”

  He turns away from Ray, glad to break away from his begrudging stare, sickened by his stake of ownership over the kids. There is something deeply unpleasant about the man that makes Rick want to punch him in the face. He shakes off the thought and pushes open the doors. The sun shines bright, casting its orange glow over the service station as he walks down the side of the building to the back. Harry’s hand tightens around his, small fingers curving round the edge of his palm as they walk along the path.

  Concrete gives way to an area of grass surrounded by low shrubs and beyond that a field, the golden crop of wheat still waving in the summer breeze.

  “Where are they?” Rick asks quietly.

  “This way,” Harry returns, pointing towards the tree. “Behind the bushes.”

  As Rick squints into the distance, a wide trail of flattened grass leads to a gap in the shrubs, beyond that an overhanging tree, scorched leaves damaged where the pyre’s flames leapt high.

  “We put them in sheets and dragged them down here.”

  “You must be a strong boy to be able to do that,” Rick responds.

  “Uhuh,” Harry replies, a smile curling onto his lips.

  As they walk closer to the gap, the edge of a black mound appears, growing larger with each step.

  “There. There they are,” Harry says, a tremor in his voice. “I want to stay here,” he continues.

  “Sure, that’s OK,” Rick says, bending down to him. “I understand,” he continues looking into the boy’s eyes, reassuring him. He stands up to address the others. “I’m going to give these people their final rites. That means I’m going to say a few words for them to God, to help them on their way. Give them their final respect. If you want to stand with me, that’s OK. If you want to stay here with Harry that’s OK too,” he finishes looking round at the tangle of unkempt children.

  Looking at each other they divide and only the older boy stands with Rick. “Looks like it’s just you and me Zak.”

  “Yeah,” he replies quietly. “My brother … he’s there too,” he continues, his jaws clenching as he finishes speaking. Rick nods quietly.

  Stepping forward, the breeze blows, picking up the ash from the pyre, blowing it against Rick’s boots. He grimaces, but forces himself to continue without reaction and fumbles in his memory for the words said at his own mother’s graveside, and of Coulson’s. He closes his eyes and hangs his head as memories overtake him then looks up to the sky, studiously ignoring the blackened heap before him.

  “Father God, take to you … these dearly departed.” He pauses, looks back at the expectant, pinched faces of the gathered children and returns to the pyre.

  “Lord, they were taken from this life too quickly … suffer them to come unto you … give them a place of rest in eternal peace … Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust … Amen.’

  Looking into the mirror in the ladies’ room, Cassie notices the dark shadows under her eyes and a new, fine line between her eyes. Leaning forward she strokes at it, it seems to smooth, but doesn’t disappear. She frowns again and it deepens. She sighs and puts the plug down firm into the sink. There’d better be some water left here. She lifts her arm and sniffs the patch of sweat spread across the fabric now drying in the evening is warmth, and wrinkles her nose at the odo
ur.

  She unbuttons the khaki shirt and slips it off, laying it next to the sink. Spilt water spreads dark across the fabric. Turning the taps, nothing happens. She bangs the tap with her clenched fist and a pathetic trickle flows down into the sink. Tapping her nails on the porcelain of the sink she waits for it to fill then lathers the soap in the water and rubs her wet and soapy hands under her armpits, the cool of the water refreshing against the warmth of her skin. Her fingers scratch against soft bristles and she raises her arm to look under her armpits. The hairs were growing back just as strong as ever. Whoever said they’d eventually go if you waxed them often enough lied! Pah! Reaching for a paper towel from the dispenser she dries under her arms, screws it tight, then throws the paper into the bin. Too late she realises the bin is full. The balled paper towel misses, bounces against the paper towels stuffed to overflowing and rolls towards the toilet stalls.

  She listens for noise - nothing - then undoes the buckle on her belt, before slipping her trousers and knickers down over her thighs. At least those hairs were still under control! Was there really any point in caring about it? Well, Dan liked it neat and tidy so, yeah, she had to keep herself looking good. Finding something to keep it trim would have to go to the top of her list of priorities. She stares at herself in the mirror. Only three weeks but she’s starting to feel like a different woman and from the lines that are creeping onto her face, she looks like one. Damn this bloody plague!

  Knickers pushed down her still-tanned but fading legs, she lathers the soap again. A noise in the corridor—footsteps? She stops, soap in hand, and listens, ready to throw the soap down and pull up her trousers. The noise moves away and she lathers the soap again in the shallow water and slides her hand between her legs, rubbing gently, cleansing the day away. A flicker stirs between her legs and she aches for Dan. A bang further down the corridor. She startles, grabs for a paper towel, dips it in the water and wipes away the soap foamed between her legs and pulls up her knickers and trousers. Unzipping her khaki rucksack, she pulls out a fresh shirt and slips it on, tucks it in. The hallway outside is silent. Freshened, she turns to view her profile. She’s slimmer than ever. Dan always said he likes his women slim. He’d want her more than ever. Tonight, she’d take Dan to her. Tonight. Her smile deepens as she tightens the buckle of the belt.

  Pushing the door open into the darkening corridor, the lights flicker and buzz. A door at the end of the corridor swings shut as a figure disappears beyond it. Ray. She ignores him and turns in the opposite direction, hoping that she can find Dan and let him know just how much she loves him, how much she still wants him.

  “Cassie,” he calls as she pushes open the door to step into the main reception area of the service station.

  “Babe!” she calls, still aching, strides to him, wraps her arms around him. “What’s that for?” he asks, happy bemusement on his face.

  “Just because. I was thinking about you and … and, well … I wanted you to know just how much I love you,” she replies kissing his lips, “and how much I need you.”

  “Oh,” he laughs, “I see,” he says pulling her to him, his lips pressing down against hers.

  “I need you this much,” she responds, sliding her hand over the soft canvas crotch of his combats.

  “Hmm,” he says low, but flinches under her touch, “that is a lot.”

  “Oh.” Her stomach clenches. He’s rejecting her—again! She steps away.

  “No, Cas. I’m sorry. Come here,” he says pulling her to him.

  “I’ll show you just how much later,” she smiles, perhaps she was wrong this time, he does want her again.

  He smiles down to her and rubs her cheek with his thumb. “I look forward to it,” he finishes.

  A door swings open with a bang and footsteps stamp loud across the resin floor.

  “When are you lot leaving?”

  Startled, Cassie takes a step back from Dan and turns to face Ray, his sombre face and knitted brow.

  “Oh! You startled me,” she says, forcing a smile to ward off his scowl. “Erm, Dan? When are we leaving?”

  “In the morning,” Dan replies, squaring up to Ray. “It’s too late to leave now.”

  “Yes,” Cassie adds, with forced pleasantry. “If that’s OK, Ray?”

  “Well …”

  “We’ll leave first thing,” Cassie adds quickly.

  “Sunrise then,” Ray adds, the gruffness of his voice matching his heavy frown. “Be gone at sunrise.”

  “Sure,” Dan agrees, frowning as he watches Ray stride across the floor towards the kitchen.

  “Beds!” Cassie calls after him. “Where shall we sleep?”

  “Huh!” he replies swinging round. “In your car. On the floor. Outside on the grass. I don’t care. Just be gone at sunrise,” he finishes and strides through the door, his footsteps heavy against the tiles.

  “Not exactly welcoming is he!”

  “Pah! No. He’s not going to win any awards for host of the year.”

  “Joking aside though Dan, apart from his rudeness, there’s something really unpleasant about him. I don’t know what it is, but those kids—they seem scared of him.”

  “Yeah, I noticed that too, but he seems to want to care for them.”

  “I know, but-”

  The large glass doors at the front of the building open and Rick walks in followed by the children. They look sombre, deep in thought.

  “Hey,” Cassie calls to them, heart sinking at the sadness across their faces. “We’re stopping here tonight. Dan is brilliant at telling stories. Who wants to listen?”

  “Cas!”

  “Hah! They’ll love it Dan, and so will you,” she replies to his amused dismay. Turning to him, she adds in a quieter voice. “They look so sad Dan. I feel sorry for them. They’ve lost everything. All they’ve got now is Ray and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Perhaps we can bring a tiny bit of happiness to them?” He looks at her with a smile and stoops to kiss her.

  “Sure,” he replies then looks up to the children. “Who wants a story then?”

  A chorus of me, me, me greets him and Dan stands bemused as the young children flock to him and even the teenagers smile at each other and walk across.

  “Right, well we need to do this properly,” he says looking at the eager faces. “We need cushions on the floor.”

  “What about chocolate? We always had chocolate and popcorn on movie night at home.”

  “Yes, yes. Chocolate and popcorn.”

  “Well …”

  “Oh, please. There’s plenty back in the shop.”

  “Well, I guess so then. Cassie, could you get us some chocolate and popcorn,” he says looking over to her, his face transformed, a timid happiness shining from his eyes.

  “Yes, sir!” she replies with a laugh.

  “Right, kids. We’ll sort out these cushions,” he says bending to pull the long oblong cushion from the seating area, “and put them in a circle whilst Cassie gets some chocolate.”

  “But Ray … he said we weren’t to take the food without asking him. He said he’d chop our hands off if he caught us taking it.”

  “Really?” Rick responds. “Well, he’ll have to deal with me first.”

  “We should ask him.”

  “Yes, we … we should. He might hurt us again.”

  “What?” Rick exclaims.

  “Listen,” Cassie interrupts. “I’m the one getting the chocolate, not you. So if Ray wants to blame anyone, he can blame me. OK?”

  “Well …”

  “Celie, will you come with me?”

  “Yes. If you’re sure Ray won’t be angry with us.”

  “I’m sure. He’ll be angry with me and Dan perhaps, but not you. He’d want you to enjoy yourselves, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, OK then,” she nods excitement shining through again in her eyes. “Yes, let’s go.” She grabs Cassie’s hand and tugs at her.

  “Hah!” she smiles across to Dan and Rick as the girl pulls her toward
s the door. “I’m coming. Goodness you’re strong,” she says playfully, “you’ll pull me over!”

  As she walks with Celie down the gentle slope towards the petrol forecourt and the shop, the lights flicker again.

  “I hate it when they do that,” Celie says clutching Cassie’s hand tighter.

  “It’s OK,” she soothes, “just a surge of electricity.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Ray says. He says it won’t be long before the lights go out though, then we’re going to have to live in the dark. I don’t like the dark.”

  “Now, now. It’s not so bad. Maybe Ray can find some torches or solar lights.”

  “Yeah, maybe. He said we’re going to have to start going through to the village to get supplies and stuff.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want to go back to the village,” she says dropping her head.

  “No? Why’s that then?”

  “Well, there’s lots of dead people there. You know—just dead on the streets and stuff. It’s totally gross and the smell,” she says holding her nose for effect, “it makes me want to puke.”

  “Yes,” Cassie replies quietly, images of the village streets and homes strong in her mind. “I guess that’s something we’re going to have to deal with for a long while. That’s why we left the city—to try and find somewhere … somewhere cleaner.”

  “Can I come with you?”

  “What?”

  “Can I?”

  Cassie turns to look at her.

  “Please, Cassie. I don’t like it here. I want to come with you. You’re nice. Not like Ray.”

  “Well, I’m sure Ray is trying his best,” she returns quietly.

  “What are you two doing?” a voice booms behind them.

  Celie screams, startled.

  “Ray! You scared us.”

  “What are you two doing I said.”

  “We’ve come to get some chocolate and popcorn—for the kids. Dan’s going to tell them a story and-”

  “No one takes any food from the shop.”

  “But-”

  “No one takes any food. Only I take the food,” he bellows.

  “Listen Ray. It’s not your food. It belongs to us all. And these kids have been through hell. I just wanted to make their lives a little bet-”