by JM HART
*
Over the past few weeks, settling in the house had been fun. It was a little cold but a place Casey felt he could call home. His room was awesome, huge with four double-sized in-built bunk beds, a writing desk and a window seat that looked out over the moors.
He saw Terry reverse the SUV out of the shed ready to head into town for supplies. Casey grabbed a light jacket before he ran downstairs to join him.
Standing out front of the manor, Casey looked over at the birch trees towards the quiet road while Amy was saying goodbye. She pecked them both on the cheek.
“We’ll be back soon,” Terry said.
Terry scooped up Amy, kissing her passionately. Casey felt a little awkward as he leant against the car and stared up into the gloomy sky. Will they ever get over each other? he wondered. It was kind of sick that they were still mad for each other.
“I know, just be careful,” Amy said patting Terry on the arm. “Have you got the list? Get two months’ worth and — don’t ask me why two months.” Amy raised her hand to block any protests. “I feel a crescendo; the human race can’t go on like this forever. Something’s got to give.” With a sudden change in tone, like the cat that got the cream, and a smile in her eyes, she said, “Oh, one more thing.” She pushed her hand into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out a second list. This one was a smaller piece of paper. “I nearly forgot. Can you also get me these things?” She handed the list to Terry.
Casey sensed she was up to something. He watched the colors change around her, from the electric blue covering her throat, to swirling yellows and oranges, and shifting to peaches and pink. Her aura became a blaze of pastels that flowed out to Terry. Casey walked around the front of the SUV to the passenger side smiling, giving them some space.
Terry looked down at the list and started reading out loud. “Night light, nappies and safari wall decal …” He looked up at her, confused. “Casey doesn’t need a night light, he’s practically a man.” Nearly inaudible, he said, “Incontinence?”
Casey shook his head, trying not to listen. He couldn’t help thinking about this morning’s media update; they had had a fleeting satellite connection and the broadcast was really an update of death. Few people found compassion and nursed their loved ones. Many people were abandoned to the crumbling city hospital systems. The infected, the possessed, roamed the streets, terrorizing everyone who didn’t have the sense to stay indoors. Images of abandoned, feral children filled the screen. The reporter said parents who feared being murdered in the night would strap their infected children to beds. Once-infected people didn’t seem to really recover; they were merely shells of their former selves, empty puppets waiting for the puppeteers of hell to claim them.
Terry had said, “Mass suicides are making Jonestown in the 60s look minuscule. Thousands are dying weekly. They believe God has abandoned them, or that God is calling them home and so are taking their own lives. No country has been left untouched. One infected man in particular claimed to be the soul of Christ and persuaded four thousand uninfected men, women and children to poison themselves together while online. And, of course, the media hounds latch onto these stories and broadcast their latest opinion poll: to suicide or not to suicide. The Children of the Stars cult believed suicide was necessary for their final transition and they needed to shed the human form to go back to their place among the stars; they believed their forefathers, the aliens, brought the plague to stimulate them to transcend this world.”
“Suicide is never the answer. Love is,” Amy had said.
Casey, Terry and Amy were shocked at the reporter’s lack of empathy, the three of them had stood transfixed in front of the screen.
“God help them all,” Terry had said.
Casey noticed his thoughts straying again, and snapped back to the present.
“How long have you had the problem?” Terry was asking Amy. She shook her head and put her finger to Terry’s lips.
“Shh.”
“Of course, it’s a personal matter and I shouldn’t bring it up in front of Casey. It might embarrass the lad.”
“Terry! You’re killing me!” Casey said.
Amy looked down at the ground. “I was thinking of making this place more homely.” She looked up and expanded her arms and swept her surroundings. “I like the idea of staying here more and more. Everything is so green and alive. You can apply for a teaching job here if the schools reopen … I shouldn’t say if, but when. I think it might be a good place to raise a child.”
Terry looked at Casey and back at Amy. “I’d hardly call him a child.”
“Don’t look at me,” Casey said, leaning against the front fender. Casey knew what Amy was trying to say and couldn’t believe someone as intelligent as Terry could be so thick. Casey chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
Terry looked back at Amy, feeling like he was missing something. Then she took his hand and placed it on her tummy and the penny finally dropped. Wide-eyed and with a grin from ear to ear he said, “Are you sure?”
Amy tilted her head to the side, looked him in the eyes and smiled. “Yes! I’m sure. That second list is for the baby store.”
Terry picked her up and spun her around and around then safely delivered her back onto solid ground. “How far?”
“Nearly three months,” she said, holding on to steady herself. “You’d better head off and get the supplies. Last week the old women were nattering in the general store, saying the army was going from town to town taking food and killing infected.”
Terry kissed Amy rapidly on the cheeks. He lost his footing, and slid on the grass, catching himself before falling. They were both giddy, laughing with joy.
“Congratulations, guys.” Casey gave Amy a hug and Terry a manly pat on the back.
“Thank you,” Amy said hugging Casey back. “You will make a wonderful big brother. You have a lot of pestering to look forward to.”
“Funny, Amy, funny. Sometimes you guys are so lame. Come on, Terry,” Casey said, dragging him towards the SUV.
Terry gave Amy one last hug and kiss. “I can’t believe we’re going to finally have a baby.” Then he remembered the world had gone to hell and maybe a baby wasn’t such a good idea at all.
*
It took fifteen minutes to get into town and park in front of the general store. There were three other cars in the lot, and two cats ducking into the dumpster for scraps, but not a person in sight. Casey pushed open the store door. The female store clerk behind the counter didn’t register Casey or Terry’s presence. Her long, starved face was cast down.
“What’s she fixated on?” Casey stepped up to the counter to take a closer look. There was nothing to see but a pair of dirty brown shoes. The woman’s aura was dirty brown too. Flickers of dust like micro-metal shavings swarmed around her head. Casey backed away and said softly, “She’s infected.”
“Let’s get what we need and get out of here,” Terry said, touching Casey on the elbow, guiding him away from her. Terry ripped the supply list in half and quickly they gathered the items and met back at the front of the store.
Terry was finished first and could see Casey coming up the central aisle. “I’ll leave the money on the counter. Go straight out and load up the car.”
Casey pushed his trolley out to the parking lot. He hauled the bag of rice and buckets of chocolate and vanilla protein powder into the rear of the SUV. He packed in the dried potato mix, dried eggs, flour and cans of tuna and vegetables. He made room for Terry’s load and helped him pack it in. Casey closed the back hatch. “We have everything on the list. Except for the live chicken … that might be difficult!”
The baby store was on the corner at the other end of the deserted street. Terry parked the car so it was front forward, ready to leave town. Terry admired the buildings, finding in them a special charm. The old, stone heritage cottages were probably part of an earlier estate.
“One of these days,” Terry said, looking left and right as if on a bu
sy city street, “I am going to dig into the town’s history. This would be a nice place to raise a child. Not too far from the sea, far enough away from the city, and close enough to the hills. Weather’s getting extremely overcast and damp; I think a storm’s coming.”
“I think it might always look like this,” Casey said.
Terry pushed the door open. The tiny wind-charm above the door jingled. With one hand on the door he paused, preventing Casey from entering. “Hello, you open, hello?” No one came to greet them. Warily he moved in and Casey followed. Together they walked among the shelves.
“Hey, look at this, Terry.” A playful smile stretched across Casey’s face, as he held up a strap-on pair of breasts. “Male breast feeding.”
“Funny!” Terry said laughing. “Actually, not a bad idea, you could use them too. One size fits all, right.”
Casey looked horrified and quickly put them back.
“Very chic for a small town,” Terry said. “Where’s the owner. Hello! Hello!” Terry was becoming uneasy. “Something’s not right. Casey, stay with me.” Terry moved towards the back of the store. The sign on the door said, Staff Only.
Casey could see what Terry was about to do and said, “Don’t open it.”
“I have to.”
“Don’t. Let’s leave the money on the counter like before.”
“I have to. Stay behind me.” Terry pushed the door open and it banged against something on the floor. He stuck his head through the crack and peered into the darkness. The smell was the first thing to hit them. He held his breath and waited for his eyes to adjust. Exhaling, he pushed harder against the door. “A woman lying on the ground is preventing the door from opening.” Terry angled his hip into the gap to squeeze through but hearing a deep growl fill the room, he stopped moving.
“Was that a wild dog?”
Terry withdrew his hip and stuck in his head only.
“What are you doing?”
“I count four sets of yellow eyes in the darkness. I think the woman is dead,” Terry said looking back at Casey.
He quickly pulled the door closed and reached for the bookshelves. Terry heaved at the metal shelving, packed with the latest baby books, and began to drag it across the floor.
“Help me, quickly. Get on the other side and push.”
Casey directed all his energy to the bookshelf. He felt an electric sensation between his eyes. He started imagining the bookshelf moving, then placed both hands flat against the shelf to give the impression of physically pushing it. Books fell to the floor and the shelf scraped across the painted concrete floor.
“I told you not to open it. Let’s take what Amy needs and get out of here.” They loaded the back seat with the baby essentials.
“Jump in,” Terry said.
“Wait. One more thing.” Casey ran to the back of the store and slid to a halt at the pile of books. He rummaged through the heap. The wild dogs were sniffing under the door, gnawing, scratching and banging against it; the shelf wobbled, more books and wooden toys fell, hitting him on the head. The shelf had become lighter, easier to move. Casey scattered the books across the floor until he found the one he was looking for, then sprinted to the exit, grabbing a stuffed bear on his way out. He climbed into the idling SUV and tossed the book and the bear on top of the supplies on the back seat.
Terry looked over his shoulder to see what Casey had thought to be so vital. “Twins! A book about twins? No, you’ve got to be kidding me? You’re not serious … really, you think?”
“Just in case. Amy will be fine. I’ll help. I can clean the house and do the washing while you change the dirty diapers.”
“Thanks, pal. Two … seriously?”
*
As they drove home Casey stared vacantly out the car window. The sky was absent of life, no birds darting up from the hedges, the road deserted. The SUV turned into the driveway and Casey jumped out to open the gate, securing the latch once Terry was through and then jumped back in the car. They pulled up in front of the house. “Don’t leave it here, drive straight into the shed,” Casey said looking back over his shoulder at the main road.
Terry held onto the steering wheel and took a long look at Casey. “What is it, what aren’t you saying?”
Casey shifted in his seat. “It … it just doesn’t feel right. We need to move it. Trust me.”
Terry had come to love Casey like he was his own. “You okay? We will be okay. This virus will blow over, right? We’re pretty isolated. The winter should bury it. It will be our first winter here.” Terry didn’t give Casey time to answer. “Forget I asked.” He couldn’t imagine the burden Casey carried. “That reminds me we have to find that leak in the basement. Something’s got to be causing the rot up into the kitchen.”
“I’m good. Just wish I could do more,” Casey said.
“You are helping just fine. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.” Terry turned off the ignition and jumped out.
Casey still had his seat belt on as Terry opened his door. “What are you doing?”
“It’s about time I taught you how to drive. Don’t you think?”
“For real!” He didn’t need a second invitation. He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed over to the driver’s side.
“Okay,” Terry said, a little nervous. “The ignition is …” The car roared into life. “Okay, so you know how to start the car. The brake is on your left and the accelerator is on your right. This lever is the transmission. Put the gear into D, for drive, release the handbrake and the car should start rolling forward. Slowly, push down on the accelerator.”
The car bunny-hopped forward until Casey found the right pressure on the pedal. “Now turn the wheel to the right, towards the driveway. Go down to the gate and then I’ll get you to stop and back it up to the house.”
“This is awesome.” Casey was sliding the stick into drive and pressing on the accelerator.
“You’re doing good. You can speed up just a little. Feel that kick; that means it’s going up a gear. If it was a manual, you would have had to change the gear using a clutch pedal.”
The car crawled along the dirt road towards the gate. Casey felt like he was moving faster than he actually was. It felt good, he wanted to keep going, out onto the road, but he knew they had to get back to the house, now wasn’t the time.
“Okay, foot off the accelerator and ease your foot onto the brake. Now shift the gear into R and look into this mirror,” Terry said, pointing to the one in the middle of the front windscreen. Make sure nothing and nobody is behind you. Arm over the back of the seat, foot off brake, and slowly accelerate.”
Again the car jerked and beeped like a truck as it moved backwards towards the tree line. Moments like these, Casey forgot everything troubling. Terry will be a great dad, he thought.
“Okay, foot off the accelerator, slowly brake, bring the car to a stop, pull on the handbrake and put the car in P. Leave it running, jump out and I’ll park it in the shed.” Terry maneuvered the SUV into the garage, put it in park and pulled on the handbrake. He reached to turn the ignition off, but it was already in the off position.
Casey stood just outside the shed and waited for Terry to pop the back open to get the stuff out. The car was idling in the garage. He was taking too long. Casey ran up to Terry’s window. “What’s up?”
“The ignition, it’s already off. It’s in the off position.”
Casey’s heart started to pound, he quickly touched the car and it stopped idling. “Must have been a delayed reaction,” he said.
11
Illusions: Kevin. Australia.
Callie dropped the coffee pod into the machine, opened the blinds and wiped away her tears. The smell of fresh coffee was relaxing. She could see the tent, drooping with moisture. She knew Kevin lay sleeping, safe.
“Morning,” Daniel said.
Callie didn’t respond. She didn’t want Daniel to know she had been crying. She took a sip of coffee.
“Why won’t you go b
ack to the research lab?” he asked. “You’re better than a mobile pathologist. Why won’t you talk to me?” Daniel was getting tired of the bickering and secrets. “What are you running from?”
Callie kept staring out the window and into the yard, watching the stillness of the morning. “Stop. Just stop,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand. No more, Daniel. Don’t bring it up again.” Callie put her cup in the sink and, without so much as a glimpse in his direction, walked out into the backyard. The morning smelt of the recent fires and a haze smothered the city. People weren’t bothering as much about getting to work. Everyone was either afraid of catching the virus or becoming a victim of someone who had. If only she could synthesize the formula, she thought.
Callie pulled the tent peg that kept the front peak taut and let it collapse onto the boys. They kept sleeping. She put it back into place and unzipped the mesh screen. A two-man tent used to be a lot bigger, she thought, gently nudging Kevin. “Time to wake up. You’ve got fifteen minutes before your dad heads off.” Kevin stirred, grumbling, pulling the sleeping bag over his head.
Tim stretched, rubbing his eyes. “Good morning, Mrs D, isn’t it great to be alive!”
With a look of bewilderment, Callie said, “Morning, Tim, it sure is. See you boys in the kitchen, in ten.” Callie let the flap drop and walked back towards the house. That boy is always happy; she thought shaking her head and smirking. Whatever he’s on I want some.
*
Upstairs in his bedroom, Kevin finished changing his clothes. He slipped into his Nikes while Tim rumbled with Alex on the floor.
“I wish you were my brother, Tim. You always play with me when you come over.”