“Thank you, Miss,” the other soldier said. “You should go home now.”
“But—”
He walked past me and up to the storefront of the bookshop. After taking a brief look inside, he closed the door.
“Is someone coming to help?” I asked.
His reply was flat and rehearsed. “We have the situation under control. A team will be along shortly to provide assistance.”
“Will he be all right?”
The soldier gave me an irate glower. “Go home,” he snapped. “And stay there.”
I backed away, nodding my head vigorously in acquiescence.
From further down the street, secreted in a small gap between a bakery and a haberdashery, I spied on the two men. Eventually, a third soldier appeared, carrying a large black duffle bag from which he produced a set of tools. In a matter of minutes, he’d secured and locked the shop door and stuffed some kind of cement-like substance into the keyhole. Lastly, he taped a sign to the glass window—Biohazard. Do not enter.
Having sealed Mr. Tomlin inside, the soldier gave his comrades a quick salute and then hurried away. The two remaining men lingered awhile before recommencing their patrol.
I realized then that I still had the horror novel in my hand, having run from Tomlin’s without paying for it. Taking a five-pound note from my purse, I walked back to the bookshop and slipped the money under the door. A fruitless gesture, given that the owner was most likely dead.
Back at the bus station, as I waited patiently for my ride home, a man in overalls began to hang Christmas lights from the ceiling of the ticket kiosk, whistling absently as he stapled the wire in place.
What was it they always said on television?
Keep calm and carry on.
Business as usual.
Nothing to see here.
I wondered how long it’d be before the harsh reality finally sank in.
Chapter Seven
After…
We left the builder’s merchants and started our journey back to the cabin. As the afternoon dissolved away, our conversation stuck to much lighter topics. By early evening, we were about an hour from home and following the coast back along to ‘Siren bay’ when I suggested we take a swim in the man-made sea-pool I’d spotted from the road. Nate didn’t object. His t-shirt was so damp it was almost see-through, and his cheeks were a tender crimson shade.
We headed down a steep thoroughfare lined with palms and overgrown purple-flowering Rhododendrons until the road made a sharp turn onto a wide promenade. The sea pool was directly behind a small, dilapidated funfair-come-arcade.
There was something about abandoned fairgrounds that unsettled me. As a child, I’d watched a rather harrowing documentary on the Pripyat Amusement park after the Chernobyl disaster. One image in particular still haunted me—a scientist in a hazmat suit posing next to a well-rusted Ferris Wheel, its bright yellow carriages squeaking in the wind as though someone still sat inside. This place wasn’t so different, with its faded merry-go-round of sun-bleached horses and dilapidated, russet-railed rollercoasters, their empty cars awaiting thrill-seekers that would never come.
I grabbed Nate’s hand reflexively and pulled a face that conveyed my apprehension.
He shot me an amused smirk. “It reminds me of that film with the clown who—”
“Shut up!” I snapped, cutting him off abruptly, but smiling too. He just laughed.
We practically sprinted through the park to the pool, which was a few meters below ground level, accessible by a set of well-weathered concrete steps. The pool was cut off from the rest of the ocean by a rectangular stony wall, lined with blue mosaic tiles, most of which had cracked and broken apart.
“You first,” he said. “It looks cold.”
“Fine.” It was a relief to slide the backpack off my shoulders. “Turn around then.”
Nate put his back to me while I took off my vest and shorts, leaving my underwear on. Sitting down on the edge of the pool, I dipped my legs in, immediately recoiling a little from the water temperature.
“I’m turning around,” he announced, leaving me with no other choice other than to just plunge in. I sucked in a gulp of salty air upon contact with the bracing seawater and shivered violently. Composing myself as quickly as possible, I turned around to see him strip down to his boxers. He caught me watching and frowned reproachfully, although it was followed by a mischievous grin.
“Sorry.” I covered my eyes with my hand, although I could still see him through the cracks between my fingers.
He sniggered and shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
As he dropped himself down into the water, I laughed at the look of shock on his face.
“Christ, that’s cold.”
“Wimp.” I teased. “All those hot showers have made you soft.”
At the cottage, we washed out of basins of rainwater, only ever warm if we went to the hassle of boiling it first, which was never worth it. By the time we’d boiled enough to make a shallow bath’s worth, the water would be lukewarm at best.
He sighed. “Believe me, I’ve taken my fair share of cold showers.”
“Why would you have a cold shower on purpose?”
“It’s been a long, lonely four-and-a-half years, Halley,” he chuckled.
It took me much longer than it should’ve done to work out what he was alluding to, and when the answer finally dawned on me my cheeks grew embarrassingly hot.
“Oh, I see.”
With a grin, I closed my eyes and tipped my head back in the cool water, lolling in the last few minutes of the day’s sunshine. When I cracked my eyes open again, the sky had turned to a dazzling shade of pink.
“How does it do that?” I asked Nate.
“Huh?”
He’d swum to the corner of the pool and was relaxing with his arms stretched out across the edge.
“The colors in the sky,” I repeated. “How does it go from blue to pink?”
“It’s called scattering. Molecules in the atmosphere change the direction of light—” he stopped, noting my confused expression. “It’s magic. Magic makes the sky pretty.”
I laughed and paddled over to him, aiming a playful splash in his direction. He balked a little from the impact of the water on his bare chest and then gave me a half-hearted, empty smile.
“What’s up?”
His reply was flat. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “I’ve just been thinking about how brave you are.”
I snorted. “I’m really not.”
“But you are. You left home, not knowing what or who you might find.”
“That’s not bravery,” I chuckled. “Stupidity, maybe. Desperation, definitely.”
Nate shook his head. “Stop being so hard on yourself. I owe you my life.”
He was right. I did need to stop being so self-critical, and if I hadn’t left the cottage, he’d be dead right now.
“You went out into the world alone. That’s braver than you could possibly know.”
I sighed. “Maybe.”
His expression became downcast. “I need you to be honest with me, Halley. If being alone with me makes you feel uncomfortable, I can sleep in one of the other caravans—”
“What?”
“I want you to feel safe at the cabin.”
I growled. “For Christ’s sake, Nate! I’m not afraid to be alone with you.”
He didn’t look convinced, so I paddled closer and practically pinned him to the corner of the pool to prove my point. “At first, I was a little wary. But not anymore. I trust you.”
It was a few moments before he smiled. To break the tension further, I slapped a wave of water toward him again and backed away, pre-empting retaliation. He wiped his face with a hiss and then launched himself forward, grabbing hold of my shoulders to dunk me under. In seconds it became a full-scale war. The sound of our laughter—and my screeching—echoed out across the bay, scaring off the nearby seagu
lls.
Weariness finally forced us to call a truce and start back toward home.
****
Before…
For over a week, my Aunt and I confined ourselves to the cottage.
We stayed glued to the television as events unfolded, despite it being the same string of news on repeat, unless something new developed. It was like watching the aftermath of a car crash—watching it would do you no good, but it was impossible not to look.
The death toll was nearing the half-billion mark, and every day some different government official would promise us the infection was under control, yet still more and more people succumbed. High ranking politicians were spirited away to emergency bunkers, but it did no good because the virus was everywhere, air-born, and resilient to every drug they countered it with.
Every so often, they fed us a crumb of hope.
“Santino Martinez, the first known survivor of the virus, was flown to a secure location in Europe yesterday. The seventeen-year-old from Mexico City is in a stable condition, and officials from I.D.R.I.S believe he’ll be the key to an imminent vaccination. Meanwhile, a survivor from New Orleans, Adam Walker, has also made a full recovery. A statement from Mr. Walker’s brother is expected later today.”
Rebecca shifted uncomfortably on the sofa next to me. “Never been one to pray,” she said, “But, maybe we should.”
I looked at her. “You can if you want.”
“I just thought it might help.”
“Help who?” I snapped.
Rebecca shrugged and rose from the sofa. “I don’t know.”
With that, she rushed to her bedroom and slammed the door shut.
I hadn’t meant to be so curt, but the last time I’d prayed was after my mother’s funeral, and it had done me no good whatsoever. People all over the world were probably saying prayers right this very moment, and yet the news only got worse. Still, Rebecca didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my bad attitude.
Annoyed with myself, I turned the volume down on the television and sought out a distraction in the form of college coursework. I kept telling myself everything would be back to near-normal in no time, however hard to believe that was. My psychology teacher had once told the class that human beings were remarkably good at adapting after a crisis. The show always went on, sooner or later.
A few hours before midnight, there was a statement from Kevin Walker.
“My brother Adam is doing well. He is being cared for by an excellent team of doctors from I.D.R.I.S and will be helping them in any way he can as he recovers. Thank you all for your kind words of support.”
There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. However, the press immediately turned their attention to the white-coated man who stood next to Kevin Walker.
“How many people have survived now?” one reporter demanded.
The doctor shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”
A man in a suit and tie with an I.D badge emblazoned with the I.D.R.I.S logo suddenly stepped out in front of the media crowd and leaned into the microphone. “We are currently aware of three survivors here in the United States and one in South America. All four of those individuals have been moved to a state-of-the-art research facility in Sweden. We will find a cure.”
Four survivors. Only four.
“Is it true the virus causes infertility?” the same reporter demanded.
The man’s expression grew taut as though he’d prefer not to answer this particular question. “Initial reports from our laboratory in the U.K have found reproductive function to be affected, yes. This isn’t unusual for such an aggressive contagion. Even measles and mumps can lead to infertility.”
“Are these issues reversible?” It was a different reporter this time.
“Preliminary assessments indicate the problem is permanent.”
“How can you be sure an anti-virus won’t cause the same issues?”
“Any vaccine will be thoroughly tested,” he responded irately.
“But, with respect, given the limited time frame, how can you—"
“We will know more when further in-depth tests are conducted!” he barked and then added, “That’s all at this time.”
The I.D.R.I.S spokesperson quickly headed back inside the hospital before the press could direct any more questions his way. The media crowd roared like an angry mob as the camera feed cut back to the newsroom.
The news anchor looked down the camera with a stern expression. “More on this story, later. Now, over to Maria for the weather.”
It almost made me laugh. Like anyone gave a shit about whether it’d rain tomorrow or not.
I stayed tuned for more information on Adam Walker, but he was never mentioned again by any officials, although the media continued to question his health and whereabouts.
What became of him was anyone’s guess.
Chapter Eight
After…
By the time we returned to the cabin, the night sky was dark and moonless, splashed with thousands of twinkling lights and the faint smudges of faraway galaxies. Unhindered by light pollution, the magnificent spectacle of the universe spread out across the deep blue yonder, observed only by the few remaining humans inhabiting planet Earth.
It made me feel somewhat insignificant. Nate and I were simply two people stuck on a tiny planet, spinning around in a vast universe. Our brief tenancy of Earth— and our extinction—would go totally unnoticed. Perhaps some other dominant species would come along eventually, and hopefully, they’d do a better job than mankind did.
We headed round the back to the solar grid, but it was too dark to fix it now, even under bright torchlight. Nate dumped our rucksacks into one of the outbuildings, and then we walked back around to the front door.
Despite the glow of a few solar lights dotted along the deck of the cabin, I could barely see a thing. In the darkness—and because I’d been staring upward—I lost my footing, tripping over a loose wooden board and banging my knee hard on the balustrade. I yelped and swore. Fortunately, Nate caught me, wrapping me firmly in his arms.
“Halley! Are you okay?” he asked, although he snickered.
“I’m fine,” I told him, ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg.
In the dim light, I could just about make out his eyes, burning into mine.
He made no move to release me, the pull toward him more overwhelming than ever as we stood pressed up against one another.
I couldn’t do this anymore. It hurt me to want him so much.
But did he want me? I feared his rejection, knowing it would kill me to hear he didn’t feel the same way, but the thought of fighting it any longer left me emotionally drained. All I wanted to do was give in.
So, I did.
Rising up on my toes, I pushed my lips gently against his. For the briefest of moments, I was sure he was going to kiss me back, but instead, he let me go and stepped away.
Humiliated, I turned my back to him.
He didn’t want me.
Utterly dejected, I rushed back into the cabin. I wanted to go to bed, crawl under the covers and forget this ever happened.
Except, he came after me and grabbed my arm. “Halley.”
“Leave me alone. I’m tired, and I want to sleep.” My voice came out as a hoarse whisper as I tried to pry his fingers from my wrist, but he hooked his arm firmly around my waist and pulled me toward him. My fists pushed hard into his chest in an effort to break away, but it was no use.
“Just let me go,” I begged.
“We need to talk about this.”
He was right, but I was in no state to engage in sensible conversation with him.
Again, I tried to wriggle out of his grip. “I’m tired, Nate. Let’s forget this ever happened. Please.”
“Halley, I—” he started, but I cut him off.
“It’s fine, Nate.” My voice cracked. “I get it. You don’t want me.”
He gave me a despairing look. “Don’t want you?” he whispered. “Of
course, I want you, Halley. It’s all I can think about.”
His hands went to my face, and he tilted his head down until our foreheads touched. “I just can’t do this.”
I slid my hands around his neck. “Why not?”
He sighed heavily. “Because I can’t, Halley. I can’t lose anyone else I care about. If we cross this line, I won’t be able to let you go. Ever.”
“Then don’t.”
“You’ll leave me.”
“I won’t. Where you go, I go.”
Nate shuddered and drew in a deep, labored breath. “That’s not what I mean,” he rasped. “I’m afraid you’ll die like everyone else.”
I swallowed down the urge to cry.
What could I say? I couldn’t promise him anything. It’d be a lie to tell him everything was going to be okay. There were no guarantees, especially in this new world we found ourselves in.
Still, it was no way to live.
There was only one thing I knew for certain. “I want you, Nate.”
He closed his eyes and kissed my forehead. “I want you, too.”
His words sent a wave of crackling static over my entire body. Leaning forward, I kissed him again—lightly, almost not a kiss. He didn’t back away though this time. His lips lingered over mine for the longest time until he suddenly kissed me back, hard and hungry.
“Fuck it,” he growled.
His kisses became ravenous then, demanding more and more until my head spun. When I finally managed to push him back a little to catch my breath, my fingers found the button on his jeans.
Abruptly, he pulled away, a look of hesitation on his face. “Wait. Wait. Are you sure you want this?”
In response, I yanked the zipper down and let my hands slide into his shorts, caressing the bare flesh of his hips. “Nate, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more in my life.”
His eyes flashed with desire, and he lifted me up, grabbing my thighs so my legs wrapped around his waist. He carried me into his bedroom and set me down on his bed, his lips only leaving mine for a second as he pulled my vest top off over my head.
In kind, I roughly pulled off his t-shirt and ran my fingers down the muscular contours of his abdomen. His skin was hot and damp with sweat. His hands went around to my back to unhook my bra, and then he gently slid the straps down off my shoulders and tossed it to one side. Semi-naked and utterly exposed, my heart raced with a mixture of anxiety and excitement.
As the World Falls Down Page 10