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The World's Last Breaths: Final Winter, Animal Kingdom, and The Peeling

Page 32

by Iain Rob Wright


  “You think he’s going to wake up?” Jerry asked, tugging Jess out of her thoughts. His usual exuberance was absent for the time being and he had remained quiet for a while. Jess wondered if he was thinking about Ben; trying to make sense of what had happened to his best friend.

  Jess shrugged. “He woke up once before, so who knows. How are you doing?”

  “Me? I’m cushty? It’s this one we need to look after.” He pointed at Peter. “He looks bad.”

  Jess shrugged again. “I think he might have it easiest of all, being asleep. Right now, I want to know how you are. You know...after what happened to Ben.”

  Jerry’s face crumbled like a moist sandcastle and, for a short moment, Jess thought he was going to cry. He didn’t, though. “It’s stupid,” he said, “but I miss him already.”

  “That’s not stupid at all.”

  “Feels like it. I just keep wishing it was me. I wish I was the one that was dead and Ben was still alive.”

  “Now that is stupid.” Jess shook her head despairingly. “He wouldn’t have wanted you to be dead, would he?”

  Jerry shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. All I ever did was annoy him.”

  “Then why did he always keep you around?”

  Jerry looked away from her and stared into the fire. “Fate, I guess.”

  Jess wasn’t sure she understood. “What do you mean, fate?”

  Jerry rubbed at his eyes and somehow succeeded in making them look even more tired. “Ever seen the play, Blood Brothers?”

  “No.”.

  “It’s a film about these two brothers who get separated at birth. A mother has twins and can’t afford to keep them both, so she gives one away to the rich family that she works for.”

  “Okay,” said Jess, still not really following, but willing to listen.

  “Somehow, the baby boy she gave away ends up making friends with the son she kept – his twin brother. They have completely different upbringings, one rich, one poor, but somehow they become best friends. Despite everything, they’re really very much alike.” Jerry stared at Jess and this time she was certain he would cry, but still he did not. He smiled instead. “That’s like me and Ben. You get what I’m saying?”

  Jess didn’t. But then she thought about it a little harder and ventured a guess: “You and Ben were…brothers?” Jerry didn’t answer her but Jess knew it was a hit and not a miss. It still didn’t quite make sense, though. “Did Ben know?”

  Jerry finally allowed a tear to escape his eye. He blinked it away and it crept down his cheek. “We…we had the same dad, but I never told him that. My mom only told me when I was ten. By then I’d already been friends with Ben for three years.”

  Jess was shocked. “Why did you never tell him?”

  Jerry wiped the tear from his face, but did nothing about the new ones that ran down to replace it. “Ashamed, I guess. My mom told me it was just a one-night stand and that it was while Ben’s dad was still with his mum.”

  “You kept it to yourself because you didn’t want to hurt Ben or break up his family. I understand.”

  Jerry avoided looking directly at Jess as he spoke. “Ben idolised his father; thought he was this great businessman. Truth is that the guy was a small-time jerk with more skeletons in his closet than Norman Bates, but if I told Ben what his father – what our father – was really like, it would only have hurt him. I didn’t want that. He was my brother.”

  Jess felt emotionally winded by the story and had to remind herself to breath. What a beautiful sacrifice for someone to make, she thought, before hugging Jerry very tightly.

  “What’s that for?” he asked her.

  Jess pulled out of the hug and kissed Jerry’s cheek. “For being such a kind human being. I don’t think you realise quite how rare that is. Ben was lucky to have you as a friend, Jerry, and even more so as a brother.” Jerry whimpered. Jess patted him on the back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Jerry wiped his eyes with the back of his arm. “It’s okay. Think I needed it. Clears my head for what really matters.”

  Jess frowned. “And what’s that?”

  “What do you think? You saw what happened to Ben. There’s something evil out there and it’s not going to stop till it gets us all. If Peter could wake up and speak, he’d tell us to get the hell out of this messed up situation.”

  “Peter already did warn me,” Jess blurted out. “He said I needed to get away.”

  Jerry was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. “No one believed us about what we saw, and I guess we kind of just let it go because we were embarrassed, but we both know that we’re not crazy. There’s something out there that isn’t human, Jess. It killed Ben.”

  “I know,” she said. “We have to get away.”

  23

  “Make sure it’s tight”

  “I am!” Harry tugged the curtain ties around Damien’s wrists and felt them dig into the boy’s flesh. “Any tighter and I’ll cut his arms off.”

  “Good,” said Nigel. “Exactly what the dirty little rapist deserves.”

  When Harry swung the whiskey bottle at Damien’s head it’d instantly shattered, sending streams of Old Graham’s salty piss all over the both of them. Harry could still smell the vinegary pong on his clothes.

  Once Nigel regained consciousness, he and Harry had dragged Damien’s limp body into the bar and heaved him up onto a chair. They were now in the process of restraining him to it as tightly as possible. The last thing they needed was Damien waking up and endangering anybody else. They had enough on their plate as it was. Harry still hadn’t forgotten about the incident in the dance hall. Chaos, it seemed, had started coming at him from all directions.

  Steph was lying downstairs on a pile of blankets, covered by an old duvet. She’d stirred briefly when they lifted her from the toilet floor, but remained unconsciousness ever since. Lucas was currently looking after her.

  Harry felt sick for nearly trusting Damien.

  “Nigel, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t walked in when you did. Steph is so lucky you were there.”

  Nigel’s chest puffed up proudly. With the beating his face had taken, Harry thought he looked like a dishevelled bear. “I’m just sorry the little perv got the drop on me before I could take him down. My head’s banging.”

  Harry gave the curtain ties one final, haughty tug. He was satisfied that Damien was now adequately restrained. “Vicious sod really did a number on you, didn’t he? Soon as the phones are working, we’ll call the police and get him squared away.”

  Nigel seemed to flinch. “Police…yeah”

  Harry looked at him. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Just a bit dizzy. Need to sit down, I think.”

  Harry stood up, his frigid kneecaps popping. “I can keep an eye on things here. You go and rest, Nigel.”

  “You sure? Can I get you anything?”

  Harry thought about another beer, but for some reason he said, “No, I’m good, thanks.”

  Nigel walked away gingerly, clutching at his ribs and holding his head. Harry tried to imagine the pain the guy was in. He was lucky to be alive after the walloping he took.

  Harry stepped back and examined Damien. What could make a person so wicked as to want to rape and beat a person? It made his heart ache to think of the amount of hatred that infected the world. Damien was just one tiny ant in a whole colony of remorseless monsters. Harry started to wish that he’d asked for that beer after all. His mind couldn’t cope without it.

  A strangled snort came from Damien’s direction and for a moment Harry thought the lad was going to wake up. His eyelids fluttered and his nose crinkled as though a fly had landed on it. But then he fell still again.

  “What do we do with you now?” Harry asked. “Can’t exactly leave you in the middle of the room to freeze now, can I?”

  Or maybe that’s exactly what you deserve.

  Harry’s fists clenched themselves automatic
ally as he thought about how frightened Steph must have been on that grimy toilet floor. He had to take deep breathes until the anger passed. It would drive him insane if he wasn’t careful.

  Harry needed to get away from Damien – just being near the dirtbag made him sick – but it wasn’t an option. Damien could wake up and try to escape. The only place warm enough to keep the lad prisoner was by the fire, but that was already taken up by their casualty, Peter.

  Prisoners. Casualties. What the hell is happening tonight!

  The only other place was the cellar – once they got the new fire started at least – but there was no way Harry was going to put Damien anywhere near Steph. He was never going to let the kid anywhere near her ever again.

  Harry walked over to Jess and Jerry. Both of them were on their knees tending to Peter’s wounds. Jess looked up at him as he approached and managed a weary smile.

  “Hey,” Harry smiled back. “How you two holding up?”

  “It’s starting to feel a bit like that film, Alive,” said Jerry.

  Harry raised both eyebrows.

  Jerry sighed. “You know…that movie where the plane crashes? The one where they’re all freezing to death, one by one? They all start to eat the dead bodies to stay alive? In other words, it’s freezing.”

  Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, never saw that film.”

  Jess spoke. “We want out of here, Harry.”

  Harry hadn’t expected that. Sure, it was an obvious thing to say, given the circumstances, but Jess was an upbeat person and didn’t seem the kind to complain. “We all do,” he said, “but that’s not possible right now. You know what it’s like out there. It’s not safe.”

  Jess nodded. “That’s what I mean. It’s not safe here either. The snow is getting deeper and deeper outside, and it’s getting colder and colder in here. There’s something out there that killed our friend and we don’t want to hang around here until it gets us. We weren’t lying about what happened to us. There’s something out there.”

  Harry pictured the flames outside, growing from the snow like shimmering beanstalks, with burning corpses hanging from them. Then he thought about the thing pretending to be his son, and how he need to tell someone. “I believe you. I saw things out there in the snow, too, which is why I don’t understand why you would want to go out there.”

  “Because we’re sitting ducks here,” said Jerry. “I’d rather take my chances running to safety than waiting here to freeze to death. Do you really think we can all just sit around drinking beer and waiting for things to go back to normal? I hate to say it, but I think normal took a bus out of town. We’re all going to die if we stay here.”

  “No one is going to die,” Harry stated firmly, “but I agree that we may not be safe here.”

  Jerry narrowed his eyes. The cold air, fighting against the licking heat of the fire, made his cheeks blush like cherries. “So, you’ll help us then?”

  “No,” Harry said quickly. “If we go outside we’ll be frozen stiff in a matter of minutes, or the victims of something even worse. It would be insane to leave here before morning. Even then, I’m not so sure. I agree we’re in danger here, but I think we would be even worse off out there. We need to dig in and prepare.”

  Jess’s lower lip trembled and she blinked several times. She looked at Harry pleadingly. “So what do you suggest? That we wait here until someone else comes flying through the window? Or until Damien tries to rape someone else?”

  Harry felt his lips pull back in a snarl. “Damien won’t be hurting anyone else, don’t you worry about that.”

  Jess shrugged as if his assertion meant nothing to her. “Fine,” she said, “but there’s something out there that’s less than friendly. You really just expect us to wait here till it tries to get in?”

  “No,” said Harry. “We prepare ourselves. If whatever is outside tries to get in…”

  Jess and Jerry both looked at him. “Yeah?”

  “We make it wish it hadn’t.”

  24

  Jess decided Harry was crazy. He had to be. Why else would he suggest bunkering down in the pub and waiting for whatever was outside to get in? He didn’t understand the situation, and perhaps that made sense. Harry hadn’t seen what she and Jerry had seen; hadn’t seen Ben’s body disintegrate into a billion bloody granules of sand. No one else understood that there was a seven-foot psychopath out there with a film prop from Braveheart.

  Braveheart? Jesus, I sound like Jerry.

  Once Harry was far enough away, Jess turned to Jerry and whispered. “Are we really going to stay here?”

  “You mean batten down the hatches like the kid from Home Alone?” Jerry ran both hands through his messy hair and sighed. “What choice do we have?”

  “Maybe Harry’s right,” she admitted. “Maybe we’ll freeze to death out there as soon as we step through the door. I just don’t like feeling trapped, you know?”

  Jerry nodded.

  “So what do we do?” Jess asked.

  “Arnie-up, I guess. Get some weapons and take it to the first thing that comes through the door.”

  “Whatever happens, I don’t think they’ll be using the door.” Jess looked down at Peter who was still sleeping on the sofa. He seemed more peaceful now and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. “I think windows are more their style.”

  Jerry chuckled humourlessly. “No shit.”

  Jess placed her hands on her hips. “Should we get started?”

  “I think before we do anything we need to stoke the fire. I’m freezing my nuts off, and I think Peter’s turning blue.”

  Jess looked down at Peter and saw the azure tint at the edge of his lips, like a thin line of biro. “I’ll go and check with Harry,” she said. “They’re building a fire downstairs. Maybe we can get some stuff to burn.”

  Harry was stood with Lucas. The two of them were examining Damien in the chair and muttering. Jess couldn’t believe what Damien had tried to do. She had known he was a jerk, but…

  Something felt off about the situation. Damien Banks was a lot of things, but Jess never pegged him as a rapist. Still, how much could you know about a guy, really?

  “Harry,” Jess said, approaching him and Lucas. “The fire is struggling and we need something to burn.”

  Harry nodded and rubbed at his chin. The stubble there made his face seem dirty. “Yeah, I know,” he said. “We’ll get it going again soon with some of the chairs Nigel broke up. I forgot to say earlier that I think I’ll have to leave Damien up here with you and Jerry. The only other option is to put him in the cellar, but with Steph…”

  Jess waved a hand. “That’s fine, I understand. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Harry stared into her eyes. “If he so much as twitches you need to shout down and get me.”

  “Yeah, course. If he tries anything I’ll ring the bell or whack him with the fire poker. You tied him pretty tight by the looks of things, anyway.”

  Harry looked down at Damien’s swollen wrists and seemed proud of himself. “I knew Boy Scouts would come in handy one day.”

  Jess laughed. “I knew there was something outdoorsy about you.”

  “No,” said Harry. “That’s just how I smell.”

  Jess laughed again, this time louder. “You’re suddenly in a cheery mood.”

  Harry stared into space for a moment before making eye contact with her again. “Guess I decided it was time to start taking part.”

  Jess didn’t know what he meant. There were a lot of things she didn’t understand tonight. “Taking part in what?”

  Harry smiled. “Life, I guess. Now, let’s go find you something for that fire.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She took Harry’s free arm as he grabbed a candle from the bar. Lucas nodded to them both as they passed, letting them know he was happy to stay behind and supervise Damien. As the two of them sauntered towards the bar, Jess felt a surreal feeling of safety that made her wonder if she was in some sort of deni
al about the fear she’d felt only minutes before. Strangely, Harry’s lightened mood made her feel that things might just work out okay.

  Jess blinked twice and refocused her mind. Her skin felt tight under the prolonged attack of the cold. The chill felt like razor wire pulled tight around her flesh. She couldn’t wait to get in front of a renewed fire. Maybe she could even grab a short nap. She was exhausted. According to her watch it was almost 3am.

  Jess descended the stairs while Harry lit the way with a candle. At the bottom they entered the cellar and were immediately met by Steph, who seemed to be recovering well from her ordeal. Old Graham lay on the floor beyond, snug beneath a blanket and seemingly quite drunk if the sound of his slurred singing was anything to go by. At the edge of the room, in shadow, sat Nigel, Kath was also in the room, but Jess didn’t care to pay attention to that old cow.

  Steph took a step towards Jess and Harry and it became obvious that she was still a little shaky. “We have a problem,” she said only to Harry, as if Jess were not even there.

  Harry’s happy demeanour soured slightly. “Steph, you should be resting. What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

  Steph raised an arm behind her and pointed to a makeshift fire in the centre of the room. The steel dustbin was half-stuffed with wood and cardboard. Several chair legs pointed upwards like giant fingers.

  Jess knew straight away what Steph was going to tell them and she didn’t want to hear it. She shook her head in despair. “That’s all we could find to burn, isn’t it?”

  Steph changed her focus to Jess and nodded solemnly. “The cardboard recycling was done yesterday morning and we’re all out of coal. I was going to buy some from the supermarket to stock up. If we burn all the tables we still might not have enough.”

  “We just need to last till morning,” said Harry. “We have plenty of wood until then.”

  “I’m not so sure. Two separate fires is going to take a lot of fuel, but even if we can last till morning, what then? I don’t think this is just a bit of bad weather. Something’s happened. I’m sure some group of scientists someplace know exactly what is happening, but I think it’s starting to become pretty obvious that things are bad. We can rely on this all being okay come morning. Nobody is coming to help us and it’s only getting colder.”

 

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