After The End (Book 1): The Furious Four

by Rendle, Samantha

  Of course Preston was doing a nice thing in giving a gift to Gabriel, especially after the crap few months they’ve endured. But Preston doesn’t typically do nice things, doesn’t care about anyone else, so can anyone really blame Beth for suspecting some ulterior motive?

  When Kerry joins her, she sits down beside her on the damp, cold grass and does not complain. She says nothing as Beth cries as squints up at the stars, undeserving of her friend’s comfort or sympathy. She’s not sure how to control herself after resuming control over her body, uncertain why she is being so dramatic.

  ‘I wish I could make you feel better,’ Kerry tells her.

  Beth swallows. ‘I didn’t think I’d take the loss of the Sanctuary so hard. After the relief of knowing you and Gabriel were okay faded I just felt rotten. I’ve felt wrong ever since we left, and then Gabriel almost died...’

  ‘Preston’s the one who was shot.’

  ‘But it could’ve easily been Gabriel. And what, what would I have d-done then?’

  Fresh tears well up in her eyes and Kerry reaches for her hand. She rests her head on Kerry’s shoulder and her beanie hat shifts between them, exposing an ear to the bitter cold air. She composes herself quicker this time, and heaves a sigh when the tears cease.

  ‘I know I keep overreacting to things,’ she whispers, ‘and I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s understandable, Beth. I forgive you.’

  ‘I upset Gabriel.’

  ‘He’s okay.’

  Silence descends once more, and Kerry gently rearranges the hat on Beth’s head, covering her numb ear. Her fingers linger on the pretty earrings Beth took from the shopping centre all those weeks ago. Beth peers up at her.

  ‘Preston loves David,’ she says quietly.

  ‘Yes, he does.’

  ‘There’s every chance he will never love anyone else.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Do you think it’s possible?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kerry sighs. ‘But Beth, you’re allowed to love him even if he doesn’t love you back. You’re allowed to want him even if he’s done bad things. You don’t have to admit it, and we don’t have to talk about it ever again. Just remember that no matter how inhuman Preston seems, you’re only human yourself. You have to allow yourself to feel.’

  Beth smiles and squeezes Kerry’s hand. ‘When did you get so wise?’

  Kerry shrugs. ‘We need a rational one to balance out the group, I suppose.’

  ‘The Furious Four,’ says Beth with a hint of sadness in her voice.

  ‘That’s us.’

  ‘I’ll never admit it, you know.’

  ‘That’s okay. Shall we go in? My bum is completely soaked.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Beth groans. ‘I suppose I need to apologise. I’ll start by apologising for your wet bum.’

  ‘I don’t think I can forgive you.’ Kerry grins. ‘But I’ll try to.’

  Death of the Child

  It turned out that the inn stored a lot of food, especially for just four people and a baby. Unknown to the others, Kerry had been marking days off the log book, and by her count they had been here, post-attack, for a week and a half. Andrea remained in hospital, visited multiple times daily by Steve, and in the meantime he, Beth and occasionally Preston worked around the inn while Kerry was entrusted to caring for Gabriel, who had now come out with his second word: “Frodo,” which, admittedly, sounded a lot more like “rowboat” but Preston was having none of it.

  She welcomed the distraction looking after a baby provided, for when she sat alone and undisturbed she felt an overwhelming sense of disquiet. Beth didn’t seem to know what their plan was, and Preston barely paid Kerry any attention, so she had no idea what was going to happen to them, what Preston was planning in his head when he barricaded the doors or searched bedrooms for loot. She was almost certain they wouldn’t be staying here forever, and the thought made her wonder if this was her life now. Would she constantly be on the move, looking after the baby while the others worked and didn’t talk to her?

  A few days after the attack at the inn, Preston had wordlessly taken his things and moved to a different room, taking his cat with him. Kerry had remained with Beth and the baby, afraid to spend the night in a strange room alone, and this was where she spent most of her time. She played with Gabriel, she read to him, she sang him to sleep when he was tired, and when he finally did drift off she stayed in the room with him, scribbling in her little sketchbook. Occasionally she would leave the room and go for a walk or explore the vastness of the empty inn, but she had grown fond of the safe little bedroom.

  The weather was impeccable today; the sky was cloudless, the sun blazed and a light breeze ruffled the foliage in the garden outside. As Gabriel slept, Kerry sat on the window seat with the window wide open, trying her best to sketch out David’s and Aggie’s likenesses. She wanted desperately to be able to capture them, before she forgot what they looked like. Unfortunately, at nine, she wasn’t very good at drawing. She spent almost as much time trying to remember phone numbers, still clinging to the hope that Aggie would want to come back to her.

  Giving up, Kerry cast her gaze to the car park below, where Steve scrubbed viciously at the grime on his car and Preston ripped up bedding, laying it in a wide circle around the building. Kerry wasn’t sure, as he tipped some sort of liquid onto the fabric, what his goal was, but she presumed this was some sort of method to keep the zombies away. She still couldn’t get used to calling them that. The word just seemed too surreal.

  The last time she’d glanced out the window, Beth had been there too, jogging around the car park. As Kerry wondered where she’d got to, the bedroom door answered her, creaking as Cat (she refused to call him Ratbag) sauntered in, followed by Beth. Beth was sweaty, and her hair looked hot and heavy on her head. She smiled and sat down beside Kerry.

  ‘It’s almost time for dinner,’ she announced, prying Kerry’s book from her hands and thumbing through her recent drawings. ‘Wow, Kerry, you’re getting good.’

  ‘I’m not,’ sighed Kerry, ‘but thanks. What’s for dinner?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet,’ Beth admitted. ‘I’m going to shower quickly, and then you could accompany me downstairs and help me decide. Honestly, I don’t know what to do with my hair – it’s like wearing a winter coat bunched up on your head in the middle of summer. Perhaps I’ll have to shave it off.’

  ‘I like your hair,’ said Kerry, returning Beth’s smile as Beth handed her sketchbook back and got to her feet.

  ‘Thanks,’ replied Beth. She glanced at the sleeping baby on the bed, who Cat had curled up next to protectively. ‘Thank you for looking after Gabriel, too. You’ve been a big help.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’m enjoying not being the youngest for once.’

  Beth nodded. ‘Well, I’m going to grab some clothes and go shower. Could you do me a favour and heat up some mashed potato for Gabriel? He’ll be okay with the cat for a few minutes.’

  Tossing her glasses onto the vacant bed, Beth hastily selected a clean outfit and left the room, and Kerry followed, parting ways when Beth disappeared into the bathroom. Despite still being somewhat cast aside, Kerry enjoyed being useful. She was often praised by Beth and Steve for helping in the kitchen or keeping Gabriel happy, and she hadn’t had that since she’d been at school, which felt like years ago now.

  Kerry had been top of most of her classes at school, second to only one boy, who she admired as opposed to envied. He’d been her friend, and they’d often done homework together and sat together in lessons. She wondered where he was now, hoping that he’d made it out of London when the attacks began. As she made her way into the kitchen, the thought suddenly struck her that she’d been about to learn French in a club after school, and now she may never know any French. The thought made her sad.

  Despite no custom having come to replace Steve’s fleeing guests, the inn was still in good working order. Appliances still worked, and lights flicked on and off at command.
Kerry wondered how long that would last as she opened the fridge and was greeted by its interior light.

  As she retrieved a tub of leftover potato and pulled the lid off the Tupperware, conversation drifted into the pub behind her. She loosened the lid, put the tub into the microwave and set the timer on a minute, then followed the voices to the bar, where Preston sat with a large bottle of amber liquid, and Steve stood beside him.

  ‘Kerry,’ said Steve with a warm smile as Preston poured himself a glass of the liquid.

  ‘Kelly,’ Preston corrected him.

  ‘Kerry,’ Kerry assured him.

  ‘What are you up to?’ Steve asked, gently liberating the bottle from Preston’s firm grip and pouring himself a small measure.

  ‘Making Gabriel dinner,’ replied Kerry, gesturing behind her.

  Steve nodded, attempting to hide the flicker of sadness in his face with a sip of his drink. The sight or mention of Gabriel seemed to make him sad now, having lost his own child only days ago. Now and then Gabriel would do something or make a facial expression, and Steve would mumble something about it reminding him of Hayley when she was a baby, tear up, and leave the room. Kerry felt sorry for him.

  ‘It’s a shame we can’t eat outside,’ he said gruffly, gesturing to the windows, which still offered the inn plenty of warm light, ‘it’s lovely out there.’

  ‘Why can’t we eat outside?’

  ‘It’s probably best to stay out of sight as much as we can.’

  ‘What was Preston doing, just now, with that bedding?’

  ‘Just a safety precaution,’ said Steve, finishing his drink and setting his glass down on the bar. ‘I have to ask you to steer clear of it, though, please.’

  Before she could ask why, a beep sounded from the kitchen behind her, and she excused herself to collect Gabriel’s food. Behind her, Preston and Steve resumed their conversation, and she listened as she retrieved a spoon and swirled it around in the mashed potato.

  ‘They want her to stay a little longer,’ said Steve, ‘but I’d rather check her out now, you know, before anything else happens.’

  ‘You don’t have to ask permission, you know.’

  ‘I could very well help her escape without permission,’ agreed Steve, ‘but I’d rather take the civil approach, I’m afraid. I’m going to talk to the doctor again tomorrow and hopefully he’ll let me take her.’

  Kerry heard more liquid splashing into a glass as Preston said, ‘And if he doesn’t?’

  ‘I’ll keep asking.’

  ‘What a hero.’

  She re-emerged with the steaming tub as Steve opened his mouth to retort, but he thought better of it and plastered another smile on his face. Kerry was starting to recognise his forced smiles, which were growing more frequent, but she smiled back nonetheless.

  ‘Is Andrea coming home tomorrow?’ she asked.

  ‘Hopefully,’ said Steve vaguely.

  ‘Probably not,’ said Preston.

  Shrugging, Kerry decided to leave them to it and took Gabriel’s dinner upstairs with her. He was still sleeping when she returned to the bedroom, snuggled up to Cat with his thumb hanging out of his mouth. Kerry sat on the opposite bed for a minute and watched him, waiting for the potato to cool down on top of the duvet beside her.

  His hair defied gravity in tufts and the tip of one sharp white tooth peeked from his gums, his thumb pressed protectively against it. A bunch of Cat’s fur was grasped in his other fat fist, and his leg pinned down the poor creature’s tail, but Cat didn’t seem to mind. Kerry felt a rush of affection for the baby as she watched him, wanting nothing more than to stay with him here in the inn, keep feeding him and protecting him, to watch him grow up. She loved him like he was her own little brother.

  Beth returned with her dreadlocks wrapped in a towel as Kerry prodded Gabriel awake. He blinked sleepily up at each of them in turn, clenching and unclenching his fists, seemingly indecisive on whether or not it was worth a good cry. Kerry showed him the tub before he could summon a tear, however, and a grin broke out on his face.

  ‘I think we need to trim his hair soon,’ said Beth with an amused smile as Gabriel sat up and his hair reached for the ceiling in wild waves.

  ‘It’s cute,’ giggled Kerry, sitting the baby up and spooning food into his mouth.

  ‘Num num,’ said Gabriel merrily.

  ‘Andrea might be coming back tomorrow,’ Kerry told Beth.

  ‘That’s good. It’ll cheer Steve up, I hope.’

  ‘It will,’ said Kerry confidently, her mouth opening and closing along with Gabriel’s.

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Yep,’ she replied. ‘I know I’d feel a hundred times better if Aggie showed up. Even if she brought her weird boyfriend with her I’d be so happy.’

  ‘Kerry, I...’

  ‘Sometimes I think,’ she said, still calmly spoon-feeding, ‘that Preston killed her.’

  Beth was silent.

  ‘Num num,’ babbled Gabriel through a mouthful of potato.

  ‘But then I think maybe he wouldn’t do that,’ Kerry continued. ‘He knows Aggie; she’s his boyfriend’s sister. And he only ever hurt people who were trying to hurt us first. He wouldn’t kill her.’

  ‘...Yes,’ said Beth slowly. ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’

  Silence once again descended as Kerry thought about her sister. She could summon the image of Aggie without effort: her wavy blond bob, long lashes, round eyes and her thin wrists. Aggie was the good looking Twain sibling, that much was obvious. David was the smart one, and Kerry was just Kerry. How had Just-Kerry been the one to survive?

  Aggie wasn’t generally a great sister. She paraded a string of boys in and out of the house pre-Paul, argued with David and their parents, and for the most part ignored Kerry. In any other circumstance Kerry would dwell on this, but the memories that came to her were pleasant ones: Aggie covering a cut on Kerry’s weeping knee with a plaster, watching cartoons together after Paul had left in the mornings, being made beans on toast when Mum wasn’t home, painting each other’s nails and that day at the beach when Aggie had buried Kerry and they had both cried with laughter.

  ‘I miss my sister,’ Kerry realised.

  ‘I wish she could be here for you,’ said Beth quietly.

  ‘I’ll see her again one day.’

  Some part of her knew that it wasn’t true. She was absolutely certain her sister was alive; as well as being the pretty one she was also tough. Often Kerry would come home from school and Aggie would already be there, bruised, suspended from school for fighting other girls or slapping boys. If anything Aggie was the one protecting Paul while they were off adventuring somewhere. The thought made Kerry smile. But despite her survival Aggie Twain was not one to look back. She probably wasn’t even thinking about her little sister.

  She finished feeding Gabriel, and the three of them went downstairs together. Preston still sat at the bar, smoking, and a considerable amount had disappeared from the bottle in front of him. Kerry returned to the kitchen, where Steve was defrosting a vegetarian lasagne.

  ‘You shouldn’t smoke in here,’ she heard Beth say behind her.

  ‘You shouldn’t talk to me,’ retorted Preston.

  ‘Never mind him,’ Steve told Beth as she followed Kerry into the kitchen, holding Gabriel. ‘He’s been drinking a lot.’

  ‘Don’t bother making excuses for him,’ said Beth loudly. ‘He’s an ass whether he’s been drinking or not.’ She lowered her voice. ‘We’ll do that if you want, Steve. Have a rest.’

  ‘If you’re sure,’ he said gruffly, outstretching his arms for Gabriel.

  Beth handed the child over gratefully, and Steve carried him away, past the bar, settling in a booth by the window. Kerry had noticed that Beth hadn’t been spending much time with her son recently, and she silently made excuses for her (she’s busy, she wants to help, she needs exercise, et cetera, et cetera), but she secretly suspected that Beth was bowing under the pressure of teenage parentho
od. In a way, Kerry understood. Aggie was the same age as Beth, and Kerry couldn’t see her sister being a competent parent at all. She could tell that Beth loved Gabriel, but the relief she displayed when he drifted off, or when she could steal away to jog made it evident that she craved distance from him.

  Soon dinner was served, and everyone but Preston ate together at the booth. Kerry placed his plate down on the bar beside him, and he looked down at it distastefully before she returned to the kitchen for her own. She realised that Preston, too, seemed a little lost. He thrived on constant streams of snacks provided by David, regular naps and, above all, a lack of other company. Every now and then Kerry would arrive at David’s to spend the night and Preston would be out with friends, but it was a rarity. He saved going out for daytime hours, when David was working and couldn’t be with him. He didn’t seem to know what to do without David’s routine to guide him.

  Kerry herself just wanted to know what was happening. The responsibility to plan and execute fell on Preston, and all Preston seemed to want to do was smoke and get drunk. Kerry could only presume that they’d be moving on once food supplies dwindled, like they had in the bunker.

  As they ate, Gabriel crawled enthusiastically about the room, babbling loudly. Kerry and Steve watched him, amused, and Beth feigned interest in her lasagne, fussily picking out mushrooms. Kerry caught Steve glancing at Beth.

  ‘You okay, love?’ he murmured, drawing Beth’s gaze to him.

  ‘I never would’ve pegged you for an agony uncle,’ mumbled Beth.

  ‘I’m a bartender,’ said Steve. ‘It’s practically the same thing. What’s the matter?’

  She sighed. ‘I’m just... Stressed, I suppose. I always put too much faith in my parents’ knowledge and now I’m stranded with my baby, who I have no idea how to take care of. I have no baby books, no doctors, no guides, and I just have this feeling that I’m condemning him. What if he dies because I’m choosing to follow Preston around?’