by Eden Darry
Chapter Ten
Loveday watched the strange display from across the road. She held on to Rocky’s collar when he would have run to Ellery. He strained forward, strong for such a small dog, barking and yipping, desperate to get to her.
When Loveday saw Ellery drop to the ground and lie unmoving, she released Rocky, who took off at warp speed despite his cast, and sprinted after him.
“Ellery?” Loveday dropped to her knees beside her, touched her shoulder. Rocky started madly licking her face and Loveday held his collar again, pulled him backward.
Ellery sat up rubbing her shoulder, and Loveday noticed her hands were bleeding. “I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.” Ellery glanced up at the bedroom window and Loveday wondered at the look of fear on her up to now stoic face. “Quick.”
“You’ve cut your hands.”
“That’s the least of our problems. Come on. My place isn’t far.”
“Mine’s closer,” Loveday pointed out, helping Ellery to her feet.
“No, I don’t want to stay on this street. Let’s go.”
Loveday followed Ellery, Rocky limping along beside them. She noticed he was struggling to walk and scooped him up and into her arms. Grateful, the little dog licked her face and made her feel better.
Loveday wasn’t really a dog person, but she had to admit Rocky was cute.
Ellery opened the door to a tidy cottage at the south end of town. She led Loveday into the lounge and cleared a stack of books off the sofa. “Please, have a seat. I’m going to clean up my hands.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier if I did it? They both look painful.”
Ellery seemed to consider for a moment and Loveday guessed she didn’t accept help very often. She nodded. “Okay, thanks. I’ll get the first aid kit. Make yourself comfortable.”
Loveday looked around the room. A bookcase in the far corner held a number of titles she was familiar with. Lesbian titles. Knew it. She was surprised to see a few of her own books lurked among the work of better authors. Interesting.
Various charcoal drawings of animals lay in a pile on the coffee table. She picked them up and looked through. They were good.
Behind her, Ellery cleared her throat. “Um, here it is. Shall we sit at the table?” Ellery nodded to a dining table at the other end of the room, also stacked with piles of books.
“You’re an artist,” Loveday said.
Ellery blushed. “Not really. It’s more of a hobby.”
“They’re good.”
“Thank you.”
Loveday sorted through the first aid box, tearing open a sachet of antibacterial wipes. “Give me your hands.”
Ellery had nice hands. Long, strong fingers like a pianist’s, the nails neatly trimmed. The cuts weren’t too deep. “Want to tell me what happened?” She didn’t look up from her task, gently dabbing at Ellery’s bloody palms and along the creases where blood crusted. She checked that no debris was caught in them. The last thing Ellery needed was an infection.
Ellery sighed. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said that’s how I usually exit houses?”
Loveday glanced up, surprised to see a sheepish grin on Ellery’s face. The capable vet didn’t strike her as someone who looked that way often. She laughed. “Is it?”
“No. I think whatever you heard in Libby Lee’s house was also in the house I climbed out of. It was downstairs. I thought…”
“You thought what?” Loveday asked, peeling the backing off a plaster to put on Ellery’s palm.
“Going back out the front door was a bad idea with it down there.”
Loveday did look at her then, understanding passing between them. It wasn’t something you could easily vocalize. Neither knew the other well enough to just come out and say there was some kind of bogeyman in that house and it terrified me.
“I think you’re all squared away. You were rubbing your shoulder earlier—shall I—”
“It’s fine.” Ellery blushed furiously and Loveday wondered about that. Did she think Loveday was going to ask her to take her jumper off? And even if she did, they were both adults, so what was the problem?
“I’m not wearing a bra,” Ellery said. “I mean, I took it off last night to sleep and didn’t get around to putting it back on.”
“Oh.” Loveday’s cheeks heated. “I see. Well, as long as it’s okay.”
“It’s fine. Just a bit sore,” Ellery said quickly.
Loveday nodded and stood, trying not to think about a topless Ellery. “I’ll throw this stuff in the bin.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll do it.” Ellery began gathering up the detritus. “Would you like tea or coffee? I have a camping stove in the cupboard.”
“Oh my God, yes, please! Coffee if you have it?” Loveday couldn’t believe her luck.
“Sure, no problem.” Ellery laughed.
* * *
Ellery busied herself in the kitchen. She boiled the kettle and spooned coffee into the coffee press. There was some bread in the cupboard and cheese in the fridge. They looked okay. She sniffed them. They smelled okay too.
She laid out some ham on a plate for Rocky, and he wolfed it down in a couple of bites, sniffing and licking the plate and the floor around it in case he’d missed anything.
Ellery thought about their options. They had no way to communicate with the outside world. Every device she owned required electricity or electrical components to work. The town was quite clearly empty of people, so that left them with a couple of possibilities. Find an old vehicle and try to drive to the next town or city—perhaps the government had set up some kind of emergency shelter for anyone who hadn’t disappeared. Or stay here, wait it out, and see if anyone came to them. After the incident earlier, Ellery wasn’t keen on the idea of staying.
Of course, it had completely slipped her mind to ask whether Loveday had family. She shook her head. Or if Loveday even wanted to stay with her. Loveday might have other plans that didn’t involve her at all. Ellery knew if she had any family or even friends left, looking for them would be the first thing she’d do.
Would that be so bad? If Loveday wanted to go her own way? Ellery wondered if it might be a relief in a way. She’d spent so long alone, and now there was another person to think about. To care for. For someone who avoided people like the plague, why did Ellery feel so comfortable around Loveday? It couldn’t just be the attraction. Ellery had been attracted to people before and never wanted to be around them in the way she wanted to be around Loveday.
Perhaps it was the situation they found themselves in. That was probably it. There wasn’t any other logical explanation she could think of.
The kettle began to whistle. She poured water into the coffee press. She’d recognized Loveday the first time she came into the surgery with her cat. She’d read all Loveday’s books. She hadn’t admitted to being a fan, that would have been embarrassing, but Loveday had been alone in her lounge for a while now and had probably seen Ellery had her books.
Loveday’s author’s photo didn’t do her justice. Ellery had been mortified when Loveday’d been about to suggest looking at her shoulder. The thought of getting topless in front of her had filled Ellery with equal parts arousal and embarrassment. She would need to grab a bra from upstairs. Just in case.
She put the sandwiches together quickly, grabbed some mustard and mayonnaise, arranged it all on a tray, and went into the lounge.
Loveday was browsing her bookcase again and turned at the sound of Ellery coming in.
“Here we go.” She unloaded everything onto the coffee table. She saw Loveday’s eyes light up at the sight of the coffee.
“That smells delicious. I’m so happy you have a camping stove.”
They sat down and began to eat.
“I was thinking,” Ellery said, “maybe we should get out of town. Go somewhere bigger and see if there’s any people. That is, unless you have family you want to try and find.”
Loveday shook her head. “No, no family.”
<
br /> Ellery didn’t ask any questions—the challenging look in Loveday’s eyes told her not to. “Who knows, the disappearances might be a localized thing.”
“You think it’s just here that everybody’s disappeared?” Loveday groaned at her first sip of coffee.
“No. If that was the case, someone would have come by now. And there’s still no sound of traffic from the main road. I don’t think it’s just here. But in a larger town, there might be more people. An emergency shelter. Something.” Ellery bit in to a sandwich, realizing just now how hungry she was.
“We’ll have to look for an old car. One from before the advent of on-board computers. Do you know of any?”
“I thought about that. I suppose we’ll have to have a walkabout and see.”
Rocky jumped on the sofa and lay down between them, his eyes tracking their movements, probably hoping for bits of dropped sandwich.
“It sounds like the best plan. I can’t think of what else to do. God, this is so strange,” Loveday said.
“I know. It feels…surreal. How can everyone just disappear like that? Without any trace.”
“I don’t know. Yesterday I was thinking about what colour to paint my bathroom. Now, we’re talking about finding out whether we’re the last two people on Earth. It’s insane.” Loveday shook her head and bit in to the sandwich. She made a face. “No butter?”
“Oh. I don’t usually put butter in sandwiches.”
“Then you’re no longer in charge of sandwich making. Coffee, maybe. Sandwiches? No.”
Chapter Eleven
Terry thought it was about mid-afternoon by the time he left the house. He’d tried the TV, his mobile phone and Shirl’s—he also found her purse with all her cards and her house keys, so he knew she hadn’t walked out on him—and the computer upstairs. All of them were dead. He tried unplugging the TV and computer and plugging them back in, like Little Terry showed him. He got the volt tester out of his toolbox, and even that didn’t turn on.
Terry finally decided to head out and see if everyone else was having the same trouble. He’d go down the pub, he thought. Have a pint and see what was what. He stepped outside and double locked the front door like always. The street was still empty and strangely quiet. It took Terry a moment to realize there were no planes flying overhead, and that was odd because they lived directly under the flight path. He got to the end of his street and turned onto the main road. A few cars sat abandoned in their lanes. One had smashed straight into a brick wall, the front end crumpled.
Terry went over and looked inside. No one. He straightened and looked about. Something fluttered in his belly, and at first he didn’t recognize it. It had been years—since his dad died, really—since he’d felt anything like it. So at first he didn’t understand the feeling swirling in his gut. He looked up at the empty skies and over to the houses which lined the road like sentries, their windows black. He felt the absence of life, really felt it. He scrubbed his big hands over his face again, felt the back of his neck prickle with the sensation of being watched.
He spun around in the direction he’d felt eyes on him, but there was no one. Goosebumps rose on his skin and Terry finally realized he was afraid. And on the heels of that, Little Terry. His son. Terry started to run.
* * *
Loveday walked up the road carrying a coat hanger. Ellery walked up ahead on the opposite side of the road with a hammer and flathead screwdriver. The whole situation would have been comical if it wasn’t so weird. Two thirty-something women looking for a car to break in to. Two women who were confirmed loners throwing in their lot with each other. They were virtual strangers, yet Loveday felt a connection with Ellery she couldn’t explain. Being with her felt right even when everything else about today felt completely wrong. Maybe it was just the attraction between them, but Loveday didn’t think so.
Well, no point mulling it over now when they had cars to steal. “What about this one?” she called out, stopping by a beaten-up red hatchback.
“No,” Ellery called. “The immobilizers on those are buggers.”
They walked on, Loveday not entirely sure what she was looking for and also wondering how Ellery knew about hot-wiring cars. Appearances could be deceptive.
Ellery stopped by a battered blue estate car and called Loveday over. “I’m going to try this one. Can I have the hanger, please?”
Loveday watched as Ellery bent the hooked end further, then pushed it down between the window and the seal. It wasn’t long before the lock popped up.
“Do I even want to know where you learned that?”
Ellery turned to look at her and grinned. “Misspent youth.”
“Clearly.”
“I was in foster care for a while, made some interesting friends and learnt some skills.” She opened the door and got in.
Loveday watched as Ellery gently hammered the screwdriver into the ignition. “Pray this works because I’m not much good at actual hot-wiring.” Ellery turned the screwdriver like a key.
Nothing.
Shit.
“Now what?” Loveday asked.
Ellery didn’t answer. She sat for a moment with her brow furrowed, then felt around under the steering column. The bonnet popped open. She got out and walked around to the front.
Loveday leaned against the car, her back to the window, and felt dejected. She was hoping this would work. The alternative had them walking God knew how many miles to a city that might also be empty of people.
“Loveday?” Ellery’s voice was quiet. It sounded strange.
“Everything okay?”
Ellery looked around the side of the open bonnet at her. “I don’t know what to make of this. I…come and see.”
Loveday walked around to the front and stared down at the engine. It was a twisted hunk of scorched metal.
Daughters of Lilith Walk was spray-painted on the underside of the bonnet in red, and underneath it Save the Girl. Some of the paint dripped down so the letters looked like they were bleeding. Or crying.
“I don’t understand. Who did this?” Her voice sounded odd to her own ears and she realized what had been strange about Ellery’s voice when she’d called her over. They were both trying not to scream.
Loveday shivered, the hairs on her neck stood up, and she felt eyes on her. “I think we should go back to your house,” she said.
Ellery’s eyes bored into hers. “You feel it too?”
“Yes. Someone’s watching us. That thing from before.”
The air turned colder and a gust of wind kicked up autumn leaves and sent them skittering down the silent street.
“Come on.” Ellery held her hand and led her away. They walked silently, both aware something marked their progress. Its gaze felt cold, alien. Loveday forced herself not to break into a run. Ellery squeezed her hand, as though she knew she might, and whispered, “I want to run away too. I don’t think we should. I think it would be the wrong thing to do.”
Loveday knew exactly what she meant. Her feeling reminded her of Claude, how he might track a bird or a butterfly across the garden. The faster it moved, the more interested he became.
Chapter Twelve
Loveday watched Ellery start a fire in the hearth. Her fine-boned hands moved with confidence, as though she’d done this a thousand times before. Why on earth was it turning her on so much? Loveday looked away in the hope it might calm the fluttering feeling in her stomach.
The afternoon had taken on a chill that signalled winter was coming. They’d been lucky so far—the weather remained mild for autumn.
“Should we try another car?” Loveday asked.
“Do you think there’s any point? I don’t.” Ellery paused in her task and sighed. “I think they’ll all be exactly like that one.”
“Why would it…they…whatever—why would it want us to walk? And who’s Lilith? What girl?”
Ellery stood and walked over to the bookcase. She looked through the titles, obviously found what she was looking for,
and pulled out—
“Is that a Bible?” Loveday asked.
“Not really. It’s sort of a study on the Bible. I don’t know about saving any girl, but this might explain Lilith.”
“You’re religious?” Loveday was surprised.
“Yes, I am. But that’s not how I know about this. I like to read about all sorts of things, and the writing on the car bonnet jogged my memory.”
“Daughters of Lilith? She’s in the Bible, or her daughters are?”
“Lilith was supposed to be Adam’s first wife in the Garden of Eden. She refused to submit to Adam, saying they were made at the same time, so they were equal. She left him.”
“Good for her. Do you think this is all some kind of biblical prophecy?” Loveday shifted on the sofa. Three things you should never talk about with friends: money, politics, and religion. Were they even friends? Not if Ellery turned out to be some Bible bashing fruitcake, they wouldn’t be. As someone from the LGBT community, Loveday had a strained relationship with God. And by strained she meant non-existent. She didn’t bother God and He didn’t bother her. That was the way she liked it.
“No!” Ellery laughed. “Don’t worry, Loveday. I’m not a religious nut or one of those weirdos…What are they called? Children of the Ark? The Lilith thing might not be anything to do with them. Whatever wrote the message, the thing that’s been stalking us, might be. I don’t know, this whole thing is beyond my realm of understanding. I’m logical, practical.” Loveday watched her pace the small room. “I have no explanation for any of this, except to say it wants us to leave town—on foot.”
“I think you’re right. Where does it want us to go? And why do we have to walk there?” Loveday brightened. “Hey, maybe we could find bicycles.”
“I think if we decide to use bicycles, they’ll be fucked as well. Maybe this is all some biblical nightmare. Maybe the River Crane will part for us on the way out of town.”