Tabitha

by Hall, Andrew

  ‘Be back soon,’ she said, taking one last look at her dog inside the shop. She pulled the shutter right down to the ground, shutting Laika inside. Tabitha breathed deep, shouldered her rifle and set off on her hunt. The wind tousled her hair. The grey dead world sprawled ahead beyond the forecourt, vast and lethal.

  Laika’s human was gone for a long time. She didn’t like it. Staggering up, Laika hobbled out from behind the counter. Through the back room that stunk of blood, and out onto the shop floor. She sniffed at the trace of the dog food in the aisle; licked at the floor hungrily. There was still food-smell lingering in here, old and rotten, but there was nothing left to eat. She wandered back to the counter, lay down in the corner, and waited.

  Her human had been gone too long now. Laika poked her nose under the gap beneath the metal shutter, but she couldn’t budge it. She snorted and lay down in a sulk. Her side hurt; so much so that she couldn’t twist around and try to lick it. Her human had stuck her back together somehow. It felt itchy. Her ears pricked up then. There was a growl, far away. It was getting closer. Laika hobbled up and sat up straight, watching through the letter slot in the shutter. The growling was getting closer still, coming this way. She growled back, barked. It hurt to bark. She felt anxious; she wasn’t strong enough for a fight. Suddenly the growling grew loud; right outside. Then it stopped. Laika smelled metal and fumes through the letter slot, but she couldn’t see very much. She smelled her human though, and barked happily. The shutter rolled up suddenly, and Laika was all over her human. Reunited.

  ‘Hi dog face!’ Tabitha said brightly. Laika was excited to see her. She rubbed Laika’s good shoulder and got a full-face licking in return. ‘Well, I missed you too,’ she said. Tabitha walked out onto the forecourt and modelled her new classic car, like the grand prize on a game show.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked Laika. ‘I’ve got no idea how it’s still working,’ she said, scratching at a mark on the bonnet. She only managed to scrape off the paintwork with her hard finger though, and thought it best to leave it alone.

  ‘It’s probably too old to have any real electronics in it, so I think that’s why it’s still running,’ said Tabitha. ‘Radio doesn’t work, but it’s got a full tank though. And, best of all,’ she said, stepping around the back of the car, ‘one careful owner… with loads of dog food in their garage.’ She produced a bright tin from the boot, and Laika hobbled over with sudden interest. She was tucking into the food even as Tabitha emptied the tin onto the forecourt. Rummaging in the car boot, past all the beans and biscuits she’d pilfered from the house, Tabitha produced a few empty plastic bottles. She carried them off while Laika was eating, and dropped them all down by her makeshift water containers by the shop door. Laika had finished her meal long before Tabitha had filled the plastic bottles with water, and wandered over to sit beside her.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Tabitha asked her, dipping another empty bottle down into the bin to bubble and fill with rainwater. Laika looked at her, and smacked her lips in anticipation of some unknown possibility.

  ‘Go for it, if you’re thirsty,’ said Tabitha, trying to pour the last of the water from the office bin into a bottle. ‘But don’t think I’m going to feed you water like last time. That was a one-time thing.’ Laika simply looked at her, watching her cart the bottles over and put them into the car boot. Finally Tabitha brought the shotgun and the crow bar out from the shop counter, and lay them down in the car’s rear footwells with her rifle. She took one last look up and down the street, but saw nothing silvery or crazy-people-shaped. ‘Right then, let’s go!’ Tabitha said happily. ‘Or just, whenever you’re finished.’ Laika was squatting down on the forecourt. She left a turd close to the man’s drained body, that Tabitha had been trying her best to ignore.

  ‘Ready?’ said Tabitha. She held the car door open and the passenger seat forward for Laika to jump in the back. Instead, Laika wandered over to the water containers, and lapped at the rainwater left in one of the cabinet drawers.

  ‘It’s fine, I’ll just wait here,’ Tabitha sighed, looking off up the road. A glimmer caught her eye there; a shape reflecting the sun. Another, and another. A horde of spiders. They must have followed the noise of the car.

  ‘Laika! In!’ Tabitha commanded. Laika caught sight of the movement up the street, and started barking at the coming swarm. There were too many for Tabitha to count, racing down the road towards them. Tabitha grabbed Laika up and carried her to the car, plonking her in amongst the blankets and pillows that filled the back seat. Jumping into the driver’s seat, Tabitha wrenched the key in the ignition. The engine roared as the chittering mass of spiders swarmed onto the forecourt. Yanking the car into reverse, she bumped the back wheels up over something that burst with a wet splatter.

  ‘Sorry, crazy man,’ she muttered to herself, realising what the bump must have been. The spiders thumped and clattered against the passenger door, and scratched their claws against the windows. Laika barked and bared her teeth. Spinning the steering wheel, Tabitha threw the car into first gear and tore off out of the forecourt, leaving the silver swarm behind.

  14

  ‘God, you can stop barking now,’ Tabitha told Laika, racing down an empty A-road. ‘You’re giving me a headache. Lie down, get some rest.’ Eventually Laika tired of watching the fields roll by, and lay down amongst the nest of blankets on the back seat.

  ‘Pretty darn comfy, I know,’ Tabitha said over her shoulder. She smiled at Laika’s big yawn. Her heart soared at the feeling of being on the road. ‘We’re going north. I think,’ she said. ‘Yeah look, there’s the sign for the motorway.’ Tabitha caught herself checking her right for oncoming traffic before she crossed the large roundabout. If only, she thought. If only this was the old world, and she could cut in front of someone right now. She’d give anything for a blazing row on the roadside, just for normal interaction again. Just to know that there were rules to follow. Tabitha crossed the roundabout and hit the motorway, and put her foot down. She’d never imagined driving over a hundred before. She’d always stuck to the limit. Apart from the odd abandoned car to dodge, she had a clear run. She’d never felt so free. An empty motorway had always looked beautiful in the old world; now it looked divine. She didn’t have much of a plan, really; just head north away from the big cities, and hope that somewhere out there was a little remnant of civilisation. She didn’t need the road atlas on the passenger seat to head north, but it was bound to be useful at some point. She’d just have to see what was waiting for her up there. Hopefully there was a quiet village somewhere; a place the spiders hadn’t found. It was just a relief to be out of their reach for a little while. Out of danger.

  The high sun cast a warm glow over the old dashboard, warming the skin on her arms. It didn’t do much to lift the sour damp smell from her clothes, though. She’d have loved to swap them for fresh dry clothes, with that new laundry smell. She kicked herself for not thinking of that when she’d been to get the car. She could have raided the wardrobes in the house. Instead she was stuck in damp blood-stained rags, which used to be a t-shirt and jeans a few days ago. There was a creeping suggestion of BO too. It was another smell that she wasn’t used to, having been a liberal deodorant user for as long as she could remember. The new world would be a stinking one, she considered. Thrown back to a time before plumbing and washing machines. As long as she wasn’t getting eaten though, it was all good. Thinking about it, she felt a fresh insight into the prehistoric way of life. Cavemen and cavewomen with guns, fighting silver spiders. They had to be out there somewhere, and she was going to find them. She glanced over her shoulder to the back seat, and smiled. Laika slept on peacefully as they raced for the north.

  It was around early afternoon, Tabitha guessed, judging by the sun. She’d been driving for ages; she knew that much. The fields and forests that lined the motorway had given way to hills, and just the occasional farmhouse. Sheep and cattle lay rotting in the fields as she raced past. She spotted silver
spiders here and there, standing out against the green and brown of the bracken slopes. One even sat on the road up ahead, waiting forever, the way spiders did. Tilting the steering wheel a little, Tabitha pointed the car at it. It loomed up before her, unaware, and crashed against the bumper even louder than she’d imagined. The spider flew off to the side, tumbling on the road. It finally came to a stop with its legs curled up, pointing at the sky. Tabitha saw its body shrinking in the rear-view mirror, and smiled.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry girl,’ she said, looking back at Laika, startled from sleep by the bang. Laika looked from her to the road ahead, and started barking.

  ‘Oh my god,’ Tabitha muttered, ploughing the brake. A giant swarm of spiders spilled over the nearest hill in the distance; a sea of jostling silver. Tabitha worked down the gears and slowed right down. She watched from a standstill on the motorway as the tide of legs writhed and tumbled down the slope. They spilled over a field and onto the motorway, only a couple of hundred yards ahead. The swarm cut straight across the lanes towards the fields on the far side, and clambered over the barrier on the hard shoulder. Looking down into the valley on her left, Tabitha saw a village in ruins. Apparently not ruined enough for the spiders, it seemed. They poured down into the fields and clawed their way over dry stone walls to invade it. Laika barked all the while, never taking her eyes off the horde, like she wanted to take them all on.

  ‘Shh, now,’ Tabitha said soothingly, stroking Laika’s side. There wasn’t much they could do for that village now. Laika whined and hesitated, and lay back down on the covers. Sitting there at the wheel, on an abandoned motorway in the middle of nowhere, Tabitha’s spirits sank. She’d hoped to find some little corner of nowhere by now, untouched by the threat. Somewhere she could rest; really rest. And not have to worry what might be coming for her in the night. Civilisation, that’s what she was looking for. A safe place, where tides of spiders couldn’t reach. It had to be out there, somewhere. It was up to her to find it. The world could be a terrifying place, with nowhere left to run… or hope could be waiting just around the next corner.

  ‘Well, we’ve come this far,’ she told Laika, taking the handbrake off. The fuel gauge was two-thirds down. She’d have to find some petrol soon if she wanted to survive. Shunting the old gearstick into first then second, she took off down the empty motorway and left the ruined village behind. She wanted to get as far north as she could. There had to be somewhere left. Somewhere safe to hide away.

  15

  Laika dreamt. Sharp claws, reaching in the dark. They weren’t dogs. They didn’t have the decency to bark and growl before they went for you. They weren’t cats, and they weren’t for eating. They were only for killing. But you couldn’t always smell them coming. Sharp legs, sharp little claws. They drank everything out, and every day there were more of them.

  The male human had barked, lots. They’d walked so far to find the town, through woods and fields. He had hard heavy paws, and he’d used them. He made the big building into their home, and there was no way out. He hit. One time he hit and she couldn’t hear well afterwards, and she had to hide away from him. There was nothing to eat, and he barked more and hit more when he got hungry. Then he left her alone in the big building. She watched him walk away. She saw him get killed through the window, and she barked and cried, but there was no way out.

  Then the female came. The female had hard paws too, harder even, but she used them for stroking. She was gentle, and kind, and she never barked. She had a salty face; it tasted good. She made sounds that didn’t mean anything, but they were nice sounds. They were sounds to sleep to; sounds nice to hear. She never hit. She brought food. She looked after her, like they were their own little pack. They protected one other.

  Sharp claws in her dreams, reaching for her. A fight with them. She’d been walking with the female and resting, and then there was the big male invader. Her female had defended her against him. Then there were claws, cutting. The pain, and the smells, and the blood. The female took her away and protected her, and cut away her fur with her paws to lick her wound. It was bad. She thought she was going to die. Somehow her human had closed up the skin, stopped the blood. She’d felt so tired, but it didn’t hurt so much. The female had brought her water to drink, just like the male had once in a while.

  The female was kind, but then she went away too. She’d never felt so upset. She’d thought that the female was going to die outside on her own, but there was no way out of there to reach her. No way to defend her. She’d never felt so happy before either, when the female came back. Now they were moving in the metal box, moving without walking, racing past fields and hills. The pain had faded away. Now there was only warmth, and sleep, and her female. She could have died happy now, so safe and wanted.

  ‘What are you dreaming about, dog face?’ Tabitha said softly. Laika looked up from the back seat, patting her tail gently against the nest of blankets.

  ‘You run in your sleep,’ Tabitha told her fondly. Laika didn’t understand her human’s noises, but she liked them. They were gentle sounds to rest to. Sounds to take her mind off the reaching claws in her dreams.

  16

  ‘Bloody petrol stations,’ Tabitha mumbled, folding the seat forward for Laika to jump out onto the forecourt. They were really out in the countryside now, surrounded by hills and a pale blue afternoon sky. Birds sang in the trees. Tabitha hadn’t wanted to stop driving until she’d run out of road, and they were far away from everything. But the petrol gauge was right into the red, and the motorway services was the first place she’d seen with any cars around. The petrol pumps didn’t work. Tabitha looked around and squinted in the bright sunlight, scratching her arm.

  ‘How do I do this?’ she asked Laika, opening the cap on her car’s petrol tank. Was there some way to open up the pump? Would she have to syphon it from another car? Laika finished her business outside the front of the shop, and sniffed around for a while before she came back over.

  ‘You finished your dump there, dog face?’ said Tabitha, looking for some way to open up the petrol pump stand. ‘Must be satisfying?’ she asked her dog. ‘Well, I’ve not been in days. So I’m a tiny bit jealous right now.’ Tabitha didn’t even feel the need to go. She hadn’t eaten anything in days, really, so it was no surprise. Laika padded over and looked up at her, open-mouthed and smiling. Waiting patiently, attentively. Tabitha knew what she wanted. She pulled a dog food tin from the pack in the car boot, and tore the metal open to let the food slop down onto the forecourt.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of doing that,’ Tabitha said with a smile, putting the torn-open dog food tin down on the petrol pump. She studied the petrol nozzle, and the hose. She hoped against hope that the pump would still come on when she lifted the nozzle; it was dead. With no electricity to power the pump she’d have to get the petrol out herself, somehow. Even despite the new strength in her hands, there was no way the petrol pump was coming apart. With Laika lying down beside her, Tabitha took out her hunting knife and tried to prise the pump’s metal casing apart at the seam. There just wasn’t any give; she’d probably break the knife blade before the casing budged.

  ‘Well, that was a rubbish idea,’ she told Laika. She gave up on the pump and went rummaging in the car boot. ‘Now I don’t want you to freak out or anything, but I might have gotten you a present.’ Tabitha produced a tennis ball, scabby and pre-chewed, which met with Laika’s rapt attention. Smiling, Tabitha launched it over the wide open forecourt towards the car park. Laika threw herself after it, claws scratching and clattering across the concrete. By the time she came bounding back from the car park to drop the slobbery ball at her feet, Tabitha had given up on dismantling the pump. She threw the ball high over the car park again, and watched her collie pant and charge and shrink into the distance after it. Tabitha tried to pull away the petrol cap on the car parked nearest to her own, but she’d need the keys. They weren’t in the ignition. Maybe they were inside the shop somewhere, dropped around
their owner’s empty skin. She didn’t fancy searching for them, especially if there were spiders lurking in the dark shop. Trying another car, it was the same story again. The keys were nowhere to be found.

  ‘For god’s sake,’ she muttered to herself, looking around the forecourt at the abandoned cars.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she told Laika, who dropped the ball down beside her again. The ball bounced and rolled off along the forecourt. Laika skittered after it, mouth open to catch it, and brought it back again.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Tabitha, throwing the ball again absentmindedly. She crossed her arms, sighed, and stared at the stubborn petrol pump for the answers. She could try the fuel caps on other cars, she supposed. But even if she found the keys to get the cap open, how was she going to syphon the fuel out? Modern cars had something in the pipe to stop people doing that; she’d seen it on TV.

  ‘Ok. Lateral thinking and such,’ she told herself, studying the car. ‘The fuel goes in there and down into the fuel tank. So…’ she glanced at the jagged dog food tin resting on the petrol pump. The realisation made her smile; a tiny victory. ‘Let me at the fuel tank.’

  Tabitha punched at the locked boot on the newer car until she could wrench it open. Sure enough there was a jack inside. She lay it under the car with a clatter and wound the handle, tilting the car up to take a better look underneath.

  ‘You look like a fuel tank,’ she told a square bulge under the car. There was a big screw there; it wasn’t coming loose without a wrench though. Instead she gripped the edge of the metal tank and squeezed. Squeezed harder, until her hand trembled. Slowly the steel tank cratered and puckered, and bent in her hand. Straining, she tore a crack in it. Petrol dribbled from the slit, pattering down on the forecourt. The smell filled her head.