by P. S. Lurie
It’s radical and my parents would never go for it but I suddenly feel the terror of this evening sweep away. I’ve been the only person during these early hours who hasn’t once had a target over their head. This easy ride to the finish line has been unfair from the start. Giving up my spot for Theia makes me understand how it feels to accept death.
I need to talk to her, to make her understand. And I need to explain it to my parents.
Selene
I need to get out of the water soon or my body will not be able to warm itself back up. Wanting to keep going reinforces my determination to survive but leaves me blind as to where I should go next.
I crane my head up to take in the surroundings and something that has been unsettling me finally makes sense. There are no fishing boats around this section of the shore, which is odd as they usually line the entire coast, always docked where they aren’t threatened by obstructions. The thought jolts me upright and I look around. It’s dark in every direction outside of the moonlight and the low visibility makes me feel unsafe, like anything could attack me from all around. Or underneath.
I try to imagine what happened to the boats. Perhaps the police destroyed them or set them loose and allowed them to float away into the vast oceans, deciding that escaping and dying of thirst was too long a death sentence for any of us. Or maybe the people from these now empty houses took their chances and rowed away. The risk of what could face them out at sea could not be any worse than what was waiting for them by remaining here.
The rumours are probably true. There is nothing out there. No inhabitable land. No one else. But why did we believe these stories so freely? My first instinct tonight was to escape this way. I feel stupid for not trusting my intuition and now it is too late. It must be coming up to three o’clock, which only leaves two hours until the deadline. The sun hasn’t shown any promise that it is ready to rise and I calculate that, even if I run all the way to Henry’s house and the streets are as devoid of a patrol as they have been so far, we probably wouldn’t make it back here before time runs out. We’d also need a boat. And Henry would need to be alive. There are too many factors that would have to be in our favour.
I swim back, deflated by my failed plan, and almost hit the shore in between the houses where I left my uniform when I bump into something in the murky water. I stop, only for something else to brush past me from the other direction. I push the floating mass away but more obstructions line my path back to solid ground. I am inland enough to put my feet down and use my force to clear a path.
I shiver as I pick the uniform up and hold it close to my dripping body. My worst fears are realised when I fumble with the light dial, eventually switch it on, and aim it towards the sea. At least fifty dead bodies float on the surface.
Theia
‘Don’t come any closer Theia,’ my father says, holding the pillow on Leda’s face.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask but I already know the answer.
‘We knew this moment would come.’
‘Stop it,’ I shout. I can feel time running out for my sister, if it hasn’t already.
‘No Theia.’
‘We can figure something out.’
‘Your mother’s dead. There is no point in any of us living if we can’t be together. This is the right thing for us.’
Time stands still and I hear Selene’s sarcastic voice telling me I should know what to do. And Henry’s, and Jason’s, and my grandfather’s belief that I can work this out and, finally tonight, calmness in me doesn’t lose itself to panic. If everyone believed in me then there must be some element of truth. I use the only thing I can think in the moment to catch my father off guard. Confusion. ‘She loved another man.’
My father slackens his grip. ‘What?’
‘I tried to tell you before. She was having an affair with Dr Jefferson.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ I can tell from my father’s stutter that he does believe it, that he’s thought it for a while.
‘She wanted to be with him. She was going to kill us all. She only died for me because she found out he was dead.’ My words are harsh but brief. Leda counts on me.
‘How?’
‘The walkie-talkie. It’s in the bathroom.’
My father seems convinced by this. It’s too elaborate a tale to make up on the spot although I do wince at corrupting the memory of my mother, at twisting the truth about why she really died. I justify my lie by intending it to save Leda’s life.
With my father side-tracked, I rush at him and knock us both to the ground. The pillow falls away and I will my sister to gasp for air. I can’t hear any sound from her as we scuffle. She is such a quiet, jovial baby but surely even she should be crying by now.
My element of surprise gives me the upper hand and I pin my father down, realising I have no idea what to do next. He clips my elbow. My shoulder gives way and I fall off him. He picks himself up. I reach for my gun, if only to threaten him, but he punches me in the side of my face and my head slams against the floor. The gun flies off to the side. My eyes are dazed and can’t focus but I sense him bend down over me and reach out across the floor.
I hear the click of the trigger, ready to be fired.
‘Don’t,’ is all I manage to say but the next sound isn’t a gunshot but a groan.
I use all my remaining strength to open my eyes. My father is on the ground next to me with a knife sticking in his back.
My grandfather stands in the middle of the room.
3 A.M. – 4 A.M.
Theia
The blood seeps through my father’s shirt and his lifeless expression denotes that I am an orphan. His eyes rest in my direction but I know he is not looking at me. I’ve seen too many pairs of unhinged eyes tonight. On closer inspection his face shows fear, that he was killed by surprise. My parents died within two hours of each other.
I scramble away from him but my head pounds and I only make it a few paces before I have to stop to regain my breath. I push myself up but pain prevents me so I sit against the wall, cradling my head in my hands. I take some deep breaths and remember Leda. I try to check on her but I’m too weak.
I find the strength to steady myself and push up from the floor and stumble to where Leda is. She’s alive. Quiet and still, as usual, and alive. Relief passes through me. I pick her up and hold her to my chest and only then does she start to cry, as if she didn’t want to be a bother before. Fortunately for her, she’s too young to remember what has happened tonight, even if that means she will never know our parents.
My grandfather stares at my father, his son-in-law. I don’t know where to start. By thanking him? ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ he says. ‘Are you?’
I nod. My head is sore but it’s nothing when you consider bullets to the chest or a knife to the back. ‘Mum’s dead,’ I say. I crease my eyebrows, lacking the energy to ask him anymore but he takes my cue.
‘I gave your grandmother all of the pills. I didn’t want to risk, well, this. Where’s Ronan?’
‘He’s in my room, but I doubt he could sleep through that. You saved my life.’ And Leda’s and Ronan’s I realise. I work through my father’s plan. He’d kill Leda, then Ronan and me, and then himself, if he had the courage. My father hasn’t had the conviction to carry through anything for years so if I wasn’t disgusted with his actions I’d be impressed.
‘I’m not sure you should thank me. I was on the bed, wondering what to do and I thought about slitting my wrists. I sneaked downstairs to find a knife. I didn’t want to scare you or complicate things. Then I heard the commotion.’
‘Good timing,’ I say, not wanting to consider what would have happened had my grandfather overdosed or found another way to kill himself. He doesn’t need to know about my mother, how she died, her secrets, and that she died to protect me. If he heard the accusations I told my father he doesn’t mention it. ‘What now?’
‘I want to join my wife. It’s time already.’<
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I panic at the thought that if my grandfather ends his life it is just me, Ronan and Leda. I’ve been like a parent to them but there have always been adults nearby. I’m not sure I could handle the responsibility. ‘We need you.’
‘Help me with this sweetheart.’
Leda stops crying. She grips one of my fingers and her clutch is tight. I could have left the gun in her bed and she might have been able to protect herself.
My grandfather is determined his time to die is overdue and I’m only delaying what’s inevitable. If I don’t help he will find another way to end his life. He’s shown he is resourceful with the pills and now the knife, which sticks out of my father’s back. He doesn’t reclaim it; I’m not sure he’d want to use it on himself. My grandfather has killed two people tonight, both out of love but only one in a violent manner. I should believe all killing amounts to murder but each death I have witnessed tonight has had a different antecedent. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘You have a gun. I don’t think I can shoot myself. I’m not sure I could end my life.’
I listen to my grandfather’s tone but am distracted by the image of him watching as my grandmother drifted into death. If this is true, he has spent hours with his dead wife, hiding from us, listening to arguments and shootings, waiting until he couldn’t stand the absence of nothingness any longer.
But didn’t Ronan say he saw both of them asleep? My imagination must be in overdrive. If I do survive tonight, as unlikely as that seems, it will be so hard to give these events a cohesive narrative. Already, I’m starting to doubt some of the things that have happened because accepting them is devastating.
‘I can’t.’ So far tonight I have watched too many people die. I even tried to shoot my own father but I have not killed anyone. ‘I’m not ready to start,’ I say, which lacks clarity but should make enough sense to my grandfather.
‘Think of it like putting an injured pet down. It’s the kindest thing.’
I remain diffident.
‘Theia, I’m not being Rehoused over any of you. I don’t want to leave without my wife. And I don’t want a stranger to kill me.’
‘Fine.’ I don’t want to hear any more reasons because they all make sense.
Selene
I count each and every body. Sixty-two. A suicide pact or a mass cull, I don’t know.
I lose sight that each of these people had a story, a family and relationships and I can only focus on the fact that, collectively, death has an overwhelming presence in quantity alone. No one will identify them, or mourn them, or bury them. They’ll never have satisfaction in leaving this world ceremoniously. Individually, these people are to be pitied. Collectively, pity does not begin to cover it.
A rowboat floats to the side, being swept along the shore behind the bodies. I wade back out, trying not to come into contact with any of the cadavers but it proves impossible. The feel of them on my skin gives me shivers even in the freezing water. There’s not much I can do to clean myself of them and I can’t turn back.
I grab the hull and pull it towards land. I figure it could squeeze up to six at a stretch. Others must be out there, somewhere in the darkness, floating towards salvation or a miserly outstretched death. But they are the ones with a chance; for those who cannot go to the Upperlands together, this is the only solution for staying alive.
The boat’s oars are attached which is one of the few lucky breaks I have tonight. This boat may begin to explain the escape attempt for some of these people but I can’t see any other boats and I am still clueless as to how they all tried to flee. This boat should be big enough for what I scheme in my head. As I pull it the hull scrapes along the ground and I pant as it comes to rest far enough inland so that it won’t float away immediately but any farther and I’d risk damaging its base.
There’s not much I can do to camouflage it and anyone could use it themselves if so inclined, or damage it beyond repair. The area seems deserted so I will have to risk it. I’m nowhere near dry as I step into the uniform but the dampness helps ease me into the restrictive material. The sea-salt is likely to rub but I can’t worry about chafing. I have to ignore it and focus on the task at hand.
The way back to Henry and Theia’s road from here is straightforward and now that I have discovered the light on the uniform it should be an easier ascent than my journey down to the coast. Every minute that passes reduces our chance to arrive back at the boat before sunrise. I have to try. I can’t think too far ahead to what could be waiting out at sea and I definitely can’t worry that I am racing back to nothing but dead bodies. I could be a hero. And I don’t have to be alone.
I break into a trot. And then I sprint. I carry the helmet in my hand with my wet hair slapping against my face. Already I begin to tire and my body overheats. I won’t be able to keep this pace up for much longer but, for now, I run as fast as I can.
Henry
‘I want Theia to take my place.’
As soon as I say it, I realise my mistake. My parents look horrified and I’m not surprised; this is effectively the same as letting Selene remain in the house till dawn. What I should have done was defy my parents’ wishes after they had ended their lives.
My mother doesn’t say anything but my father stands to my level. ‘We are not having this conversation.’
‘She has a brother and sister. If she comes here, at least two of them can survive and look after one another.’
‘After all we’re offering you and you want to die for your friend?’
‘That’s not what I want at all,’ I say calmly, but actually I suppose that is what I want. I’ve dug myself into this mess so I need to work my way out of it. ‘This is my chance to do what you’re doing for me. I can offer someone my spot that deserves it more. That needs it more.’
My mother pipes up. ‘Why do you think Theia deserves to live over you?’
‘Listen to me.’ I try to explain again but I am getting confused and regret starting this.
I look back to my father and am surprised by how red in the face he is. I knew he was angry but it is disconcerting how heavily he fumes. ‘First you want Selene to live over us. Then Theia.’
‘Not over you. You have to understand...’
‘No. You have to understand. You’re a disappointment. I’ve done everything I can to protect you and you want to throw it away. You’re weak.’
I look to my mother, to see if she’s also hearing what I am. My father, the pacifist, the calm man, who could never hurt anyone, is screaming at me. I’ve never heard him like this. I grow more concerned when I note how petrified my mother looks. She shrinks into the couch, and even flinches when my father swings his arm in the air for effect.
I’m scared my father won’t calm down. His words come out fuelled with more bitterness than before. ‘I hate you. You should never have been born. You destroyed the happiness your mother and I had. You and your awful friends. You’re nothing more than a mistake.’
My father turns away from us and I wonder where he’s going. He has changed from caring father to tyrannical beast in the space of a conversation and he’s not going to settle down however much I try to reason with him. I need to get away from him now; his words are unpredictable and I can’t decide whether this will extend to his behaviour. I can’t go without my mother. She looks at me for reassurance that he’s going to calm down but I can’t guarantee it.
I gesture for her to lift herself up but my father turns around and she freezes.
‘Where are you going?’ he bellows at her. ‘With him?’
My mother yelps and sits down again, resigning herself to not going anywhere. My father moves towards the kitchen but stops by the door and fixes his eyes on something to his side. The hammer. From earlier this evening when he almost hit Selene.
I don’t know what he’s capable of doing. Yesterday I couldn’t believe he could hurt my mother or me, deliberately or unintentionally. It is as if all his anger that has been subdued for too long
has all at once been unleashed so I wouldn’t wager on his pacifism any more. He reaches for the hammer and I know I have no time to waste.
I grab my mother’s arm and jerk her up from the couch. ‘Go,’ I shout at her.
She scrambles out of the room and up the stairs. If I was leading the way I would’ve headed to an exit to the house, preferably the garden, willing to bet it is safer outside than remaining inside with my father cornering us. But I can’t split off from her so I follow.
I look behind me at a thud, as my father trips at the bottom of the stairs. It allows us some distance on him but only angers him further. My mother chooses my room. I don’t know why, maybe this is her way of handing over the responsibility of what we do next. I slam the door behind me and turn the lock, with complete awareness that my father has a hammer and can break through with enough force.
‘Help me with this,’ I say to my mother, as I start to drag my bed towards the door. She caves herself into the corner of the room, terrified by the turn of events. The bed is too cumbersome for me to deal with on my own. ‘Come on.’
My father slams himself against the door but it holds together. Next, he hits the hammer against the wood. I drag the bed across the room but it is slow going and will be a close call for who, out of my father and me, will achieve their goal first.
Theia
My grandfather acknowledges what he has asked of me. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t believe,’ he trails off, wanting my help but feeling guilty for it.
As angry as I am with my father, his words come back to me for a second time tonight. ‘Dad said that killing someone can be honourable. I’ll do it but first you need to help me.’
‘Anything.’
‘What do I do? About Leda? And Ronan?’