by Hall, Andrew
‘What’s wrong with that?’ she said, affronted.
‘Nothing, I’m joking,’ he replied, taking another gulp of rum. ‘It’s a good look for you.’ Tabitha watched his expression, and saw the grin creeping back through.
‘What’s wrong with mountain climbers?’ she said. Dev just sniggered.
‘I’m joking,’ he insisted. Tabitha watched him suspiciously, and looked down at her clothes. She was half-covered in blood stains like silver paint.
‘I look like a messy art student from the future,’ she said, rubbing at a silver stain on her trousers. She looked up to see Dev smiling at her. There was a sound on the floorboards upstairs. Wide-eyed, Dev and Tabitha stared at one another in the gloom.
‘Was that a footstep?’ Tabitha whispered.
‘I think so,’ Dev whispered back. He hurried back round the bar quietly and crept towards the old staircase in the back.
‘Wait,’ Tabitha whispered after him, struggling down weakly off her bar stool. By the time she’d hobbled through the pub into the back Dev was already creeping up onto the landing upstairs.
‘Dev, wait,’ she whispered, hauling herself up onto the first step. Her leg burned with a fresh agony, still healing inside. She heard Dev retch, and he came stomping back down the old wooden staircase.
‘They are here, the survivors,’ he said. ‘They’re dead.’
‘Then we need to get out. Now,’ said Tabitha. Dev followed her as she hobbled back through to the bar. She felt her head begin to swim as they headed for the door. It wasn’t just the rum though.
‘Are you ok?’ said Dev.
‘Yeah, I’ll be alright,’ she replied. She felt a heavy weakness in her limbs, like she was about to faint. It must have been the blood loss. She had to get out into the fresh air, into the daylight, and just sit down on the road for a while. Dev held the first door for her. Tabitha limped into the small porch and opened the heavy front door, and hobbled outside to squint in the sudden daylight.
‘Maybe you were right, about just getting out of town,’ she conceded, looking up and down the street to make sure it was clear. But the pub door didn’t open again behind her. Peering back inside, it took her eyes a little while to adjust to the darkness again.
‘Dev?’ she said. She put her hand to her mouth; felt that cold familiar dread seeping through her bones. He was sprawled on the floor, dead. There were gulping sounds and silvery shapes in the dim light; spiders surrounding him. Tabitha kicked at one that hugged his chest while it drank him. But her legs felt like jelly. Her kick only nudged it, and the spider just hissed and carried on feeding. More crawled towards her. She felt too weak to fight them; she could barely stand up. They were moving to surround her. Before they could pounce she was back out of the door and running. The spiders came scuttling out behind her, a sudden clattering rush on the road. She broke out into a limping sprint, dragging her right leg. Gasping at the pain. More spiders joined the chase from the toppled buildings around her. Tabitha felt her thigh sting and her heart pound in her chest. All her grief flew out of her head, and instinct took over. There was only run. She couldn’t fight them like this. Without her strength she was just another victim. Only prey, running for her life.
6
Tabitha sprinted round the corner onto the ruined high street. Every other footstep was a fresh agony, slamming her weight down on raw tender tissue in her leg. But she had to keep running. The pack of spiders had grown to a swarm. Far too many to fight. She ran past more strangled trees coated in black tentacles; more spiders dropped down from the walls around her. The chittering silver mass behind must have been fifty strong at least. She felt small metal claws gripping at her boot heels, shaking them off as she ran. Her muscles burned and her mind raced, looking all around her as the buildings rushed past. The metal chatter of the horde was deafening; a tinny racket in a clattering tide. One stumble, one unsteady step, and they’d be on her. She saw movement then, on the road up ahead. Silvery legs in the distance. More spiders rushing towards her, cutting off her escape. Nowhere to run. Tabitha kept limping on, though she knew it was hopeless now. They’d have her surrounded in seconds, with no side streets to escape. Breathless, Tabitha looked around desperately for somewhere to climb up high.
‘In here!’ came a voice off to her left. Tabitha looked over as she ran, searching for it. A woman ushered to her from an open cellar window, right on street level. Tabitha gave it everything she had and broke away from the swarm at her heels. She reached the far kerb and threw herself down on her side, sliding in through the open window. It slammed shut behind her as she hit the cellar floor; a thick metal shutter that closed the spiders out. They crashed against it outside.
‘Are you alright?’ came a voice in the dusty gloom. Gasping for breath, Tabitha looked up at a middle-aged woman, wiry and athletic, helping her up off the floor. She was tanned and stern, with short salt-and-pepper hair. The daylight crept in through a bank of glass bricks in the street above. A pale milky light, painting their faces.
‘You saved my life,’ Tabitha gasped. She staggered over to a pile of flattened cardboard boxes in the corner, and collapsed down on them to catch her breath. An old pool table filled the middle of the cellar.
‘Well, technically you saved yourself. I just left the window open for you.’ The woman smiled, and tossed her a plastic bottle of water. She was deep-voiced and well-spoken. ‘I’ve left that shutter open for everyone I’ve seen, but you’re the first person to make it inside. Did you see all the empty skins of the not-so-lucky out there on the road?’
‘I wasn’t looking,’ said Tabitha, gulping the water. She tried to smile about it. It didn’t really come off as the grim pleasantry she’d hoped for.
‘Sorry, catch your breath,’ said the woman, rummaging in a box in the far corner. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve had anyone else to talk to.’ Tabitha just nodded, draining the bottle.
‘Have you seen anyone else?’ said the woman.
‘There was a man. They killed him,’ Tabitha replied, suddenly shocked at the thought of Dev. Now that she had a minute to take stock, his death hit her like a sledgehammer. ‘One minute he was there, then he was just gone… just like everyone else,’ she mumbled. She stared at the far wall, numb. The tears came quickly at the thought of her mum, her friends.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the woman, lifting a canister out of a box in the corner.
‘I didn’t know him,’ Tabitha replied. ‘I – I don’t mean that I don’t care what happened to him. I mean I’d only met him today.’
‘No need to explain,’ the woman said gently. ‘Life is very fleeting these days. I’m sorry for what happened to him, all the same. For what happened to everyone.’
‘Thanks,’ Tabitha replied, staring back at the wall. What was it he’d said, that this was all some punishment from god? It seemed that way, and she didn’t even believe in god. It was like a new plague. Tabitha pulled her numb legs closer, and tried to rub some feeling back into them. She felt exhausted. It was hard to believe that all of this had happened in one day. Home felt like a week ago.
‘Sorry, I’m not much good at conversation,’ she said. ‘Not today.’
‘Don’t worry,’ the woman replied. ‘Just rest for a bit. I imagine you’ve been through rather a lot recently.’
‘Are you a doctor?’ said Tabitha, looking around at the clutter in the gloom. There were boxes of tablets, plastic syringes. Empty body bags.
‘I am,’ the woman replied. ‘Part of the ill-fated relief effort. Army field hospital, essentially. We got here just in time to get massacred,’ she sighed sadly. ‘So, we made a run for this cellar. Pure luck that we found the place.’
‘There’s a few of you?’
‘There were, yes,’ the woman replied. ‘Not now.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Tabitha.
‘So am I,’ the woman sighed. ‘No offense to your town, but we should never have come here.’ Tabitha smiled sadly. ‘I’m Jane, by the
way.’
‘Tabitha,’ Tabitha replied.
‘Well, it’s good to see someone actually make it in here alive,’ said Jane. ‘I’d given up hope, truth be told.’
‘Are we safe in here?’ said Tabitha. The spiders still scratched on the metal shutter outside.
‘Perfectly safe,’ Jane said with a smile. ‘Do you need some more water? I’ve got plenty here.’
‘No thanks,’ Tabitha replied. ‘I feel really weak though. Do you have any food?’
‘I do,’ said Jane, walking over with a bottle of antiseptic. ‘But first things first. You look like you’re in shock. Are you hurt anywhere? Did they cut you at all?’
‘No, just grazes from the pavement,’ Tabitha lied, looking for wounds. It was just easier not to explain her disappearing wounds. She’d felt the sting of the pavement graze her side when she slid in through the window, though it seemed to have healed up already.
‘Well, I don’t see anything.’ said Jane, putting the antiseptic back down on the dusty old pool table. ‘Any dizziness, any blurred vision?’
‘No,’ Tabitha lied again. She didn’t want to trust her alien changes into the hands of a military doctor. She’d seen too many movies where they wanted nothing more than to catch the peculiar and cut it open. She hid her hands down by her sides.
‘I can’t feel much of a pulse,’ said Jane, pressing her fingers against Tabitha’s neck. Tabitha said nothing about her new heart. ‘And you’re sure you’ve not come to any kind of harm, the last few days?’ said Jane.
‘Got lucky, I suppose,’ Tabitha replied with a shrug. The less she said, the better.
‘How are your boots?’ said Jane, standing up.
‘Fine, I think,’ Tabitha replied, looking over them as she sat up on the flattened boxes.
‘Well, do you think, or do you know?’ Jane replied, with a bossy tone. ‘Check the backs. Those monsters were right on your heels.’
‘Why does it matter?’ Tabitha replied, pulling her feet closer to inspect the back of her boots.
‘Because if your boots come apart you’ll end up running barefoot at some point,’ Jane warned her. ‘And unless you’ve got some very impressive callousing on the soles of your feet, you’ll get caught out. And end up like those skins outside.’ Jane fixed her with a matriarch stare. ‘Always look after your boots.’
‘Alright,’ Tabitha protested, reminded suddenly of her mum’s nagging. The thought of her mum stung, and a fresh tide of disbelief washed through her. Jane wandered off to move some boxes from the corner.
‘Let’s have some light in here, shall we?’ said Jane. Tabitha staggered to her feet and watched Jane rummaging around in a box. She produced a pair of old oil lanterns, and lit them with a cigarette lighter.
‘Luckily there are still some people who believe in the practical worth of antiques,’ said Jane, putting the lanterns down on the pool table. ‘I’ve had these for years.’
‘How did you get in here?’ said Tabitha. ‘The same way I did?’ Jane nodded over at the cobwebbed ceiling in the corner.
‘There’s a metal trap door there to the shop upstairs, over where the steps are,’ Jane replied. ‘It’s probably too dark to see it really. There’s a nice big pair of bolts on it too. There’s nothing getting in here.’ Jane took a lantern and rummaged through some plastic bags on the floor, fishing around amongst some tins.
‘Now. We have baked beans, or… more baked beans. Oh no, sorry, baked beans with sausages. Need I ask which one you’d prefer?’
‘Beans and sausages, please,’ Tabitha replied with a smile, famished. She thought about her mum, and her heart broke afresh. They used to have beans and sausages on rainy weekends when they went camping together. Why did everything have to remind her of mum?
‘Try not to think about them,’ said Jane, with a gentler tone.
‘Could you tell what I was thinking about?’ said Tabitha, wiping her eyes.
‘I could see it in your face,’ Jane replied. ‘In my line of work you see that look quite a lot.’ She came over and took Tabitha’s hand. Felt the cold, hard roughness of her palm. Tabitha pulled away.
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Jane, stepping back at the sight of Tabitha’s grey hands. ‘They feel like… metal.’ Tabitha said nothing. Things were about to get tricky.
‘What happened to you?’ said Jane, suddenly nervous. She saw Tabitha’s eyes catch the lantern glow, reflecting the light like a cat’s. Like a monster.
‘What?’ said Tabitha, suspicious of the way Jane was studying her.
‘I said, what happened to you?’ Jane demanded, producing a pistol from her coat.
‘What are you doing?’ said Tabitha, staring down the barrel. She saw the sudden intensity in Jane’s eyes.
‘You’re infected,’ Jane said simply, pointing the gun as she stepped closer.
‘I am not infected!’ Tabitha snapped as she stood up, surprised at herself for squaring up to her. Jane cracked Tabitha on the jaw with the pistol grip, dropping her to the floor. Before Tabitha knew what was happening Jane was emptying a syringe into her forearm. The room spun in slow motion.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Tabitha slurred, looking around drunkenly at the cellar. Jane stepped around her, watching her carefully. ‘Would everything stop bloody injecting me?’ Tabitha mumbled, dropping unconscious to the floor. A door opened in the gloomy corner, revealing the bright glow of lanterns in the cellar next door.
‘Did you have to be so rough with her?’ said a younger woman, emerging from the doorway. She was blonde and gangly, dressed in a white lab coat.
‘Just help me get her in,’ said Jane, struggling with Tabitha’s wrists.
‘Oh wow,’ said the younger woman, staring at Tabitha’s hands in the dim light. ‘It’s metal skin.’ She touched Tabitha’s limp hands.
‘She’s infected,’ said Jane, pointing at Tabitha’s legs for the other woman to grab hold.
‘No, she’s mutated,’ the blonde woman replied, taking Tabitha’s ankles. ‘It’s incredible.’
‘So you still don’t think vetting the survivors for infection first is worth the effort?’ Jane asked her.
‘It’s not,’ the younger woman chuckled. ‘You always think there has to be some security check to go through before we can do our job. It probably just comes off as sinister, more than anything. Secret labs and all that.’ Jane grunted unhappily with dented pride. Together they hauled her body towards the door, into the brighter light of a makeshift clinic in the second cellar. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes, hobbling through the clinic with Tabitha’s limp body. Grunting and struggling to haul her towards a metal table.
‘She’s pretty,’ Jane observed, bringing more lanterns over.
‘Gorgeous,’ the younger woman agreed. She hesitated then in the silence, and looked up at Jane. ‘Wait, are you jealous?’ she said playfully. ‘Even at the end of the world?’ Jane said nothing, and looked at her grumpily. ‘I guess that’s a yes,’ the younger woman replied. ‘Are you scared I might run off with her or something?’
‘If you run off with her, I’ll kill you,’ Jane told her, with a hint of a smile.
‘Will you really?’ said the younger woman, grinning.
‘I’ll hunt you down and shoot you,’ Jane assured her, smiling.
‘Well, I love you too honey,’ the younger woman replied. ‘Now help me get her on the table.’
Tabitha blinked her eyes open and saw flickering lantern lights. She felt groggy, like her head was off swimming. Panicking, she sat up on the table. She was surprised that they hadn’t restrained her at all. She looked over at Jane, and a blonde younger woman beside her.
‘See? I told you,’ said the younger woman. Tabitha watched them warily. ‘Jane was convinced you’d try to attack us,’ she said. ‘I’m Sam, by the way.’ She sneezed. ‘Sorry. It’s too dusty down here. What’s your name hun?’
‘Tabitha,’ she replied hesitantly. She watched them carefully, and reached
slowly for her belt. Her carving knife wasn’t there.
‘She was going for her knife, look,’ said Jane, pointing the pistol at her.
‘Of course I’m going for my bloody knife!’ Tabitha snapped back. ‘You’ve drugged me and pulled me into some creepy lab!’ she tried to move off the table, but Jane stepped forward and emphasised that she was the one with the gun. Sam stepped up beside her and ushered for Jane to lower it.
‘She’s got a point,’ Sam conceded. ‘These are less than ideal surroundings for avoiding the creepy doctor scenario.’ Tabitha stared into Sam’s eyes, pale sky-blue. ‘We don’t want it to be like that at all,’ Sam said softly. ‘Jane’s just being overly cautious. We think your changes are fascinating, Tabitha, so we’d just like to find out more about them. About you.’ Tabitha looked at her warily, still conscious of Jane’s gun. ‘After that you’re obviously free to go, if you prefer,’ Sam added. ‘Probably safer down here though. You’re welcome to stay.’ Tabitha looked from one to the other. Jane in her dusty jumper and jeans, holding the gun. Sam in her light uniform, smiling gently. They couldn’t have looked more different.
‘You just want to look at my changes?’ said Tabitha.
‘That’s all,’ Sam assured her. ‘Nothing sinister.’ Tabitha looked into Sam’s eyes, big and blue and sincere. Slowly she unclenched her grey fists and put her alien hands back down on the table.
‘I’m sorry for Jane’s heavy-handedness,’ said Sam, coming closer. ‘She’s seen a bit more action than I have.’
‘Are you calling me old?’ Jane chipped in grumpily.
‘God Jane, I’m saying you’ve seen more combat than me, alright?’ Sam replied. ‘Now put the bloody gun away, will you? Tabitha’s not going to hurt us.’ She turned to Tabitha and looked her over. Reluctantly, Jane put the gun down.
‘Can I look at your jaw, please?’ said Sam. ‘Where Jane hit you?’ Tabitha looked at her, thought about it, and nodded hesitantly. Gently Sam turned Tabitha’s cheek to the light, and pressed it lightly with her fingers.
‘It must hurt,’ said Sam. ‘Sorry about that.’