by Liam Brown
A gun.
And he was aiming it straight at us.
TWENTY-FOUR
‘JAZZ! STOP! WAIT! Let her go. I know her. She’s my…’
As I sprinted across the school hall towards the spot where Jazz was now grappling with Amber, I felt reality wheeling away from me. Surely, I was still asleep. Fever-dreaming under Jazz’s sheets. How else to explain Amber’s presence here? In this crumbling hall, in this secret place, on the wrong side of the city. How else to make sense of any of this?
‘… daughter,’ I gasped as I finally reached them. ‘She’s my daughter.’
They both froze for a second, staring at me. Then Jazz let go of Amber and lowered the axe. He took a couple of steps backwards.
Amber was the first to speak, her voice high-pitched and panicky, as if she was struggling to prevent herself from screaming. ‘Mum? What’s going on? Who is this guy? Is that a boat? Why are you—’
‘Stop right there,’ I shouted, cutting her dead. ‘You don’t get to ask questions. Not yet. Now, you’ve got about thirty seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing here. And don’t even think about—’
‘Me explain?’ Amber’s eyes flashed furiously behind her mask. ‘I don’t think I’m the one who needs to explain anything here, Mother . Like, who even is this creep? And where’s your mask? What’s going on? Oh my God, is he your…? Are you and Dad splitting up ?’
As Amber’s tone grew increasingly hysterical, Jazz began to back away. ‘You know, it sounds like you guys have got some family stuff to work through, so if you don’t mind I’m just going to—’
‘Freeze,’ I growled. ‘We need to get this thing straightened out. Now, Amber, I want you to listen to me carefully. This is Jazz. He’s my friend . I met him while I was out on patrol. He needed help. Medicine.’
Amber’s eyes widened, and she began brushing frantically at her suit, swiping away at invisible dust particles. ‘Oh my God. Is he sick? Has he got…?’
‘It’s nothing like that. He just got a nasty bite and he needed some antibiotics, that’s all. He’s on the mend now.’
On cue, Jazz held up his bandaged leg. Already the angry red streaks had begun to recede, the antibiotics doing their work. ‘You should have seen the dog. It was like something out of a horror movie. It had great big—’
‘Yes. That’s quite enough, thank you, Jazz. So, as I was saying, I’d come here to drop some medicine off when, unfortunately, I had a little accident of my own. Nothing bad. Just a small rip in my suit. But as a precaution, I thought it better to stay here for a few days just to make sure I didn’t bring anything home.’
As I talked, Amber eyed me suspiciously. She looked like she had more questions she wanted to ask.
‘That’s what I’m doing here,’ I pressed on before she had a chance to speak. ‘Now it’s your turn. What possible reason could you have to deliberately disobey me again and put yourself in danger like this? And how on earth did you even find me?’
Behind her mask, Amber looked pale. Utterly exhausted. For a moment I thought she was going to try arguing with me. But then she took a deep, juddering breath and the fight seemed to drain out of her. ‘I’m… I’m sorry. I was awake yesterday morning and I heard your door open. I came out to see what you were doing, but by the time I got my suit on you’d left the house so I… I followed you.’
I stared at her in disbelief. ‘Yesterday morning? But where have you been until then?’
‘I just kind of… hid. In the corridor out there. I looked through the window and I couldn’t see you and I… I got scared. I wanted to go home but I wasn’t sure of the way back and…’ Amber kept talking, but the rest of her story was indecipherable, swallowed by a wave of sobs.
At the sight of her tears, I felt myself soften. ‘I just can’t believe you’d do something so stupid. Did you sleep at all? Have you eaten anything?’
She shook her head.
‘There’s plenty of soup,’ Jazz said. ‘I can heat you some up if you like.’
I shot him an angry look. ‘No, Jazz. There is not soup for Amber because Amber is not taking her mask off. Do you understand me?’
Jazz shrugged. ‘All I was saying—’
‘Well don’t,’ I snapped, before turning back to Amber. ‘Okay. Look, here’s what we’re going to do. You can be back home in just over an hour if you head off right now. I can draw you a map showing you the quickest way. You’ve got pens and paper here haven’t you Jazz?’
A look of confusion clouded Amber’s face. ‘You mean… You mean you’re not coming with me?’
‘No. I just told you. I have to wait here for two more days. After that, I’ll be right back.’
‘But why can’t I just stay here with you and then we can go back together?’
‘Because it’s not safe. Don’t you understand? I’m not hanging out here for fun. I’ve been exposed. You haven’t. Now I need you to go home. Jazz, have you got that pen?’
‘And what if I don’t go?’ said Amber, the hysteria creeping back into her voice. ‘You can’t make me.’
Behind us, Jazz piped up again. ‘To be fair there’s plenty of room here if she—’
‘ Enough. No one is talking to you, Jazz. Now go and fetch me those damn pens. Amber’s leaving in a moment.’
As Jazz hobbled off, Amber scowled. Muttered something under her breath.
‘What was that?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No, come on. Spit it out. You’ve obviously got something you want to say.’
Her lips pursed, as if chewing on something foul. ‘Just forget it,’ she mumbled
After that, we stood facing each other in silence. Five feet away. It might as well have been five hundred.
While we waited for Jazz to return, it occurred to me that if I was sick, then this might be the last time I saw her. I didn’t want it to be like this, her last memory of me an argument. I tried to think of something to say. To comfort her. Some wisdom I could impart. In the end, though, all I could think about were the cold practicalities of her journey home. ‘Listen, I want you to go straight home, do you understand? Stick to the main roads and don’t stop anywhere. Are you listening?’
Nothing.
‘And when you’re back, I’d rather you didn’t say anything to anyone. About me I mean. If Dad asks if you’ve seen me, don’t… Just tell him you don’t know anything. Can you do that for me, Amber? Amber?’
‘Whatever.’
‘Whatever? What does that mean? This is important. I could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out I’m here. Serious trouble. As in police trouble, Amber. As in prison. Do you hear me?’
Before she could answer, Jazz returned, a thick permanent marker in his hand. ‘You know, I was just thinking. I don’t mind walking your daughter home. I’d have to go slowly with my leg, but I could take you as far as the city?’
‘For God’s sake, Jazz, how many times do I have to tell you to stay out of this? It’s dangerous enough her being here in the first place without her getting up close and personal with Father McNoMask over here.’
‘Oh, but it’s okay for you to hang out with him?’ Amber interrupted. ‘You’re such a hypocrite, Mother. It’s always one rule for you and one rule for everyone else.’
‘That’s not fair. Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you here? That’s all I’ve ever done.’
‘Oh really? So, you came all the way out here to keep us safe? Is that it? When you were running around playing medicine woman, ripping your suit, it was us you were thinking about? Really?’
‘Hey… No. That’s not…’ I floundered, the moral high ground crumbling beneath me.
‘You know, Amber. What your mum did was a very brave thing,’ Jazz said gently. ‘If it wasn’t for her then I’d probably be dead right now.’
‘Well, gee. I’m so happy to hear that,’ Amber hissed, turning on him. ‘Good old Mum. Running around the city, rescuing random dudes from dog bites. Isn’t she just the bes
t? What a hero.’
‘Amber. Honey. Please. You need to calm down—’
‘Funny how I don’t see her running to rescue me when I need help. Nope, there’s no sign of Supermum when my life’s falling apart. Do you even have any idea what the last few weeks have been like for me? Having my private life violated? Becoming a laughing stock at school? Having every last one of my friends abandon me and call me a slut? To become a fucking meme ?’
‘Amber, please. I tried to reach out to you—’
‘Oh please. You tried to reach out? Really? How hard did you try? Did you cross a city and put your life in danger to help me? Maybe if I was an indie boy with a six-pack and surfer hair you’d have tried a bit harder.’
‘Amber. You’re not being—’
‘You know sometimes I think it would be easier if I did just disappear for good. If I just walked out of this place and kept walking. Anything’s better than going back to that prison we all call home.’
Behind me, Jazz cleared his throat. ‘You know, Amber, we’re all in prison. It’s just some of us have bigger cells than others.’
I swivelled round, spitting through tightly clenched teeth. ‘I said to keep out of this, Jazz. If I need pop philosophy quotes I’ll buy a goddamn fridge magnet. Now if you don’t mind, this is between…’
Before I could finish, there was a clatter of footsteps, and I turned to see Amber storming off towards the double doors. ‘Wait,’ I yelled. ‘Amber. Stop. Where are you going? I haven’t even drawn you a map yet…’
I chased after her. I tried to catch her. I really did.
But as I reached the corridor, I was just in time to see the door to the playground closing behind her. I was too late.
She was gone.
TWENTY-FIVE
‘CAN YOU SEE his gun?’ Charlie squealed, jumping around in the back seat. ‘It’s a semi-automatic MP5. It can shoot 900 rounds a minute!’
Amber groaned. ‘Oh my God. You are such a geek. How do you even know that?’
‘Because it’s awesome.’ He held up an imaginary sub-machine gun and began blasting his sister in the chest. ‘Uh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh…’
‘Both of you, shut up,’ Colin growled, eyeing the soldier, who to my horror did indeed seem to be grasping a semi-automatic weapon of some kind.
A weapon that he seemed to be levelling directly at us as he approached our car.
‘Hello there, sir,’ Colin began as the soldier stopped a few yards from our open window. ‘How can I help you?’
‘OUT NOW,’ the soldier yelled, jabbing his weapon at Colin. ‘Get out of the vehicle.’
‘What?’
‘Get out,’ the soldier repeated. ‘All of you.’
Without another word, the four of us clambered from the car, out onto the motorway. Amber looked terrified, silent tears already streaking her face. Even Charlie had fallen quiet, apparently no longer excited by the sight of the gun. In the gridlocked queue of traffic that surrounded us, I sensed strangers pushing their faces to their windows. Watching the drama unfold. Grateful it wasn’t happening to them.
I glanced over at Colin, willing him to try and reason with the soldier. When I saw he was staring at his feet, I spoke up instead. ‘Listen, do you mind telling us what this is all about?’
‘QUIET,’ the soldier barked. ‘You’ll speak when spoken to. Now, we’ve had reports of a vehicle matching this description carrying infected persons towards the city.’
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Infected persons? You must be mistaken. I mean, look at us. We’re just a normal family trying to get home. Now if you’ll just — ’
Before I could finish, though, Charlie let out a cry. ‘Mum! Look, it’s Amber. She can’t breathe again.’
I swivelled round to see Amber was indeed bent double, gasping for breath.
In an instant, the soldier began barking into his radio. ‘Live incident in Sector Five. I repeat, live incident. Containment unit required.’
‘No!’ I shouted. ‘She’s not sick. This has happened before. It’s a panic attack. She’s just scared, that’s all. It’s hardly a surprise with you waving that bloody gun around.’
Colin was by Amber’s side now, his hand on her back. ‘Come on, breathe for me. In and out. That’s it, you remember. Good girl…’
‘Get back,’ the soldier yelled. ‘I repeat, step back from the target.’
Amber was puce by this point, her eyes bulging in her head.
‘Target? She’s not a target. She’s my daughter, and she’s terrified. What the hell is wrong with you?’
‘Get back,’ the soldier screamed, thrusting his gun in Amber’s direction, his finger pulsing against the trigger. ‘I won’t tell you again.’
‘Stop!’ I cried. ‘Please. She’s just a child. She’s just a frightened child.’
Colin looked up, still trying to reason with the man. ‘Just give us a minute, will you? Just give us one minute and we’ll get this ironed out. It’s just a mistake, can’t you see that? A silly mix-up. If you’ll just listen…’
But the soldier wouldn’t listen.
Instead he took another step towards them, his gun still raised. ‘This is your last warning. Three… Two…’
One.
A shot rang out.
TWENTY-SIX
FOR THE NEXT two days, I hardly left the boat. I wasn’t sick. My nose was dry. My chest was clear. And, while occasionally I would get strange symptoms – shooting pains in my arms and legs, headaches, pins and needles, dry mouth – I put them down to anxiety. As for the virus, I was almost certain I had escaped it. For whatever reason, I’d been spared. I would return home unscathed. I’d been given a second chance.
But strangely enough, none of this made me feel any better.
Mentally, I was a wreck. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from spinning out of control, especially at night. I kept recycling the same dark fantasies over and over again, Amber’s last words to me echoing in my ears:
Sometimes I think it would be easier if I just disappeared for good.
I couldn’t believe I’d let her leave. That I hadn’t tried harder to stop her. That I hadn’t chased her out of the school and into the playground. At the time, I’d told myself I didn’t have a choice. While being inside the school without a mask was dangerous, going outside was out of the question. As the days passed, though, I knew I was wrong. I should have gone after her, to hell with the consequences. That’s what a good mum would do.
Time and time again, I found myself thinking back to the first days after Amber was born. After we’d brought her home from the hospital. There was elation, yes. Relief that we had both made it through the grizzly trauma of birth. But that relief was underpinned by a clammy-skinned, sleep-stealing, gut-shredding terror. I was paralysed by the enormity of motherhood. You’d think I’d have been prepared. I’d had nine months after all. I had checklists telling me what to expect and when. I had mummy-to-be yoga manuals and self-hypnosis DVDs. I was a member of online forums where I’d swap war stories about haemorrhoids and acid reflux with other expectant mothers. But pregnancy is such an abstract state that it was easy to forget all those hospital visits and scans and check-ups were actually building up to something.
Perhaps that’s why, when I found myself back at home with an actual living, breathing baby to care for, I found it so hard to adjust. In an instant, all of my needs and desires, everything I’d spent my life working to achieve, was rendered utterly insignificant by this tiny pink screaming machine. I had a sense of duty that went far beyond anything I’d ever felt towards my career, or even my marriage. It was utterly terrifying. If I didn’t feed her, she’d die. If she got too hot, or too cold, she’d die. If I dropped her, she’d die. She was utterly dependent on me for survival. It was all on me. I had to keep her alive. That was my job. And I was good at it. Sure I might have failed in some areas, but she kept on breathing. And even when the world went insane in a way that I could never have predicted, I’d still always
put her first. Her and Charlie. All of the terrible things I’d done. The people I’d hurt. I did it all for them. To keep them safe.
And now I’d wrecked it all.
Amber was gone, and it was all my fault.
Well, almost all my fault. For when I wasn’t mentally berating myself, I reserved some resentment for Jazz. After all, if I’d never set eyes on him, none of this would have happened. If he hadn’t invited me to the school. If he hadn’t been bitten by a dog. If he never fucking existed.
If, if, if…
As if sensing my anger, Jazz made an effort to tiptoe around me. By then he was more or less back to his old self, the colour back in his cheeks, the limp gone from his walk. During the day, I heard him hammering on the deck above me. The only time it stopped was when he crept down to the cabin with a bowl of food. Each time, I’d refuse to speak to him, rolling over and mumbling something ambiguous at the wall. Sometimes he’d try and initiate conversation.
‘How are you feeling today?’
‘Did you sleep okay?’
‘Are you still worried about Amber?’
I remained silent, staring stubbornly at the wall until I eventually heard him go, after which I’d begrudgingly swallow down whatever tepid muck he’d brought me to eat.
Of course, when it came to the bathroom, I had no choice but to leave the boat. The extended run of hot weather had dried up Jazz’s reserves of rainwater, and with no flushing toilet, he’d instructed me to go outside and dig a hole. Each time I went out there, I made sure to get dressed into my mask and suit, even though I had to take it off all over again to pee. Squatting in the dirt, I’d look over the little allotment, trying to take my mind off the toxins that were probably leaching into my skin while I was out there.
Alongside onions, there was wild salad, kale, broccoli, along with a bunch of other things I couldn’t name, everything pegged out neatly with twine and covered with a fine mesh to deter birds. I had to admit it was an impressive set-up. I remember wondering where the hell he’d learned this stuff. I couldn’t believe he’d been an avid gardener before coming here. But then again, I still knew hardly anything about him. Where he’d come from, what he was doing here – in other words, all the things I’d first come here to try and find out – were still a total mystery to me. As preoccupied as I was about Amber, I decided I still wanted to find out more about him.