Until the End of the World Box Set

by Sarah Lyons Fleming

  A rumbling echoes down the hall. Ana enters rolling a suitcase and wearing ballet flats.

  “Huh,” Nelly says, completely straight-faced.

  “I’m thinking someone hasn’t grasped the gravity of the situation,” James mutters to Nelly.

  I attempt to keep my voice light. “Ana, do you have a backpack?”

  “I still have one from school. Why?”

  “Maybe you should pack in that.” I look down at my bare feet. “And shoes you can run in would probably be good.”

  Her upper lip curls. “Fine. Do you want to help me pack?”

  “Why not?” I wink at James and Nelly, who are still snickering, and follow her down the hall.

  Ana must have thought we were heading to the Caribbean, since I removed gauzy tank tops, a makeup bag and a pair of heeled sandals from her bag. Now she’s outfitted in a pair of decent shoes, jeans and a sweater. Penny’s in a similar outfit.

  “I’m scared, you guys,” she says.

  Her lower lip trembles and I give her a hug. “Whatever! So there are thousands of people who want to eat us alive. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

  The face I know almost as well as my own breaks into a smile. We can always make each other laugh, no matter how bad it is. We always have, ever since that sad girl whose papa had just died walked into my fifth grade class.

  “Love you,” she whispers and grabs my hand.

  “Love you back.” I squeeze. “It’ll be all right.”

  James opens his arms and she steps into his gangly embrace. I nod at Ana’s look and she grins. She’s always dying for Penny to meet someone, so I know she’s pleased, even if she thinks he’s a geek.

  Nelly stands up and claps his hands. “Shall we?”

  “We shall,” I say, as I link my arm into his.

  10

  The streets are empty of infected, except for the bodies. The bodegas on the avenue are open, and people lug full bags as they hurry home. Some hang out, completely ignoring the pleas to stay indoors.

  By the time we reach my garden apartment my neck hurts from looking over my shoulder constantly. We troop down the hall into the living room. Someone’s in the kitchen, and for a moment I think it’s Eric, but that would be impossible. It’s Peter.

  He’s making himself something to eat and has his sleeves rolled up and his tie off. It’s the most untogether that Peter ever appears. He always looks so out of place in my apartment amidst the clutter of papers, books and art supplies. Not that I’ve used art supplies much in recent years, but I can’t bring myself to admit defeat and pack them up. I’m sure I look the same in his apartment with its big windows and clean lines. The minute I get there, it looks like I’ve exploded all over, even when I try to be neat.

  “Hey, babe. I was worried.” Peter wraps his arms around me so hard my air cuts off. I hug him back in surprise. I didn’t think Peter got worried. “We got a ride on another plane to LaGuardia, so I came straight here. And when you didn’t answer your phone…”

  I feel a pang of guilt at the concerned look in his eyes. All I’ve felt is relief that I won’t have to see him. I’m a horrible person, and I’m probably all he has. He lost his little sister and parents in a car crash when he was twelve. We have that in common; it may be the only thing we have in common. His rich, aloof grandma raised him until she died. He’s alone. At least I have Eric.

  My voice catches. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you made it back.”

  When I met Peter at a bar in the city I’d dismissed him. Smooth, charming rich guys from the Upper East Side aren’t my type. He insisted on buying me a drink, though, and I chatted with him while I counted down the minutes I had to be polite before I could escape. But when he asked if my parents still lived in New York, and I mentioned the accident, he didn’t make that uncomfortable face everyone makes just before they apologize.

  His eyes were dark and liquid when they met mine. “It’s like living in a house where the roof’s been torn off, isn’t it?” he asked, and I could tell he’d been waiting years to find someone to say that to. Someone who might understand.

  I nodded, shocked, because the feeling that there was no protection, nothing left to shield me from whatever fucked-up thing the world was going to throw at me next, was exactly how it felt. And I’d thought that maybe I’d unfairly judged the book by its cover. But that guy, the one in the bar with the kind eyes and startling insight, hasn’t shown his face in months, until now.

  It’s a brief appearance. Peter lets go abruptly and surveys all of us with a dark eyebrow raised. He goes from warm to cold so fast it can make my head spin.

  “So, what’s the deal with everyone here?” he asks.

  “We’re waiting for Maria, Penny and Ana’s mom,” I say. “She said we should get out of the city, so we’re going to my parents’ house upstate.”

  He gives a dismissive laugh. “Seriously? I think you might be overreacting a bit.”

  Ana nods in agreement with him. Traitor.

  I feel my usual annoyance at him swell. “Well, if wanting to leave a place where people are eating other people is overreacting, then sign me up. Were you chased by a man with half his neck missing? Did you watch four infected people eating someone?”

  “Cassandra, it’s a small outbreak. They have it under control. I spoke to friends in Manhattan and they say police are everywhere and the streets are empty.”

  He looks like a petulant little boy. I saw pictures of him once in an old album on his bookcase. They were from the years when his parents were alive. Peter had been a cute kid, with freckles that matched his dark hair and a wide, easy grin. He hadn’t looked bratty like he does now. When he’d gotten out of the shower and saw me looking at the album, he had smiled but put it away. The next time I was there it was gone.

  Ana flips her hair and smiles at Peter. It’s the smile she reserves for people who aren’t us. “See? It seems like they’re taking care of the situation in Manhattan. I’m sure we won’t have to leave.”

  Ana has a huge crush on Peter. She thinks it’s one of life’s great mysteries that Peter and I are together. I’m alternately irritated and amused by her consternation. Sometimes I name a place we’ve gone and watch her burn with jealousy, just to mess with her.

  James smirks. “I think I’ll go by what Maria’s saying. Cassie, I’ve got to charge my iPad. Can I use your computer?”

  “Of course.” I look at Nelly. “Want to see what’s in the basement?”

  11

  The plastic bins are stacked against the far wall of the basement. I’ve passed them a thousand times on my way to grab a can of tomatoes or something but never notice them anymore.

  “So, where to begin?” Nelly asks.

  “I guess we’ll start with the BOBs. That’s Bug Out Bag to you normal people. Filled with all the stuff you need to make a quick getaway.”

  We find four large backpacks on the top of the stack. Mine must weigh thirty pounds. The contents are neatly packaged in Ziploc bags and stuff sacks.

  “Why don’t you start emptying the others?” I ask. “Let’s pile it up next to each bag and see what we’ve got.”

  “You got it, Boss,” he says.

  I sift through my bag. There are energy bars and dehydrated food, water bottles, water filter, first aid stuff, toiletries, and the dorkiest sweatshirt ever, among other things.

  “Hey, Nels. What do you think?” I hold up the sweatshirt with a kitten painted on the front.

  “Nice,” he says. “You should totally wear that.”

  I laugh. “It had to be my dad. My mom would’ve known I wouldn’t be caught dead in it. He must’ve bought it so there’d be some warm clothes in here. At least the jeans look normal.”

  I’m still smiling. My dad was convinced I loved kittens even though I had grown out of that sometime, oh, around when I was ten. He always put something in my Christmas stocking that made me laugh until I cried: a fluffy kitten calendar, a notepad with cats wearing Victorian hats,
those types of things. Now that I think about it, maybe he did know and liked to see my reaction. Suddenly the sweatshirt is the best gift I’ve gotten in a long time. I pull it over my head and wrap my arms around myself. It’s like a hug from my dad.

  “It’s from my dad,” I say. Nelly nods and smiles; he doesn’t need expounding. “Some of the clothes in the other bags might fit you and James.”

  The last thing out of every bag is a travel pouch with a wad of cash and papers. I unfold a map and see different routes highlighted, all leading up to the cabin. I count the cash, seven hundred-fifty dollars in smaller bills.

  “Wow,” I say. “Guess I don’t have to hit an ATM.”

  “Same amount over here,” Nelly says. “That’ll make three thousand if the other two have the same.” He looks quickly and nods. “Yeah.”

  The bags just need some unexpired food. My dad put a lot of thought into the contents; I don’t think there’s anything missing. Except weapons.

  “Are the guns still here?” Nelly asks. He’s talking about the small cache of weapons my dad kept in the city.

  “I think so. Eric put them in a bin marked ‘sewing stuff.’ ”

  The bin is under others, one of which bears my name in Eric’s scrawl. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I leave Nelly to unearth the guns while I investigate. My college diploma is on top. An old cigar box that I remember throwing out is in there, too. It smells faintly of dried flowers that Adrian brought me. I find the silver ring with a tiny star on it that Adrian gave me because he knew I loved stars. It feels warm in the cool air of the basement. I put it in my jeans and run a finger around the circle it makes in the pocket. Old concert tickets are in there, too. I think of something I haven’t thought of in a while and start to giggle.

  “Nelly, remember when we went to see The New Pornographers and Adrian smoked too much weed?”

  Nelly puts down a bin and guffaws. “When he thought he’d walked into cobwebs and they were on his face and wanted us to help get them off?”

  Adrian had been swiping at his face and looking frantic. He was always so composed that it made it a hundred times funnier, and the rest of us had crumpled to the ground, we were laughing so hard.

  Footsteps sound down the stairs, and I can hear Penny laughing before she appears at the bottom.

  “There’s no way the candy bars that girl gave us were only chocolate,” she says, and shakes her head. “No way.”

  “I never let him live that down,” I say. “It still makes me laugh out loud, every single time. The look of panic…”

  My stomach hurts from laughing, but when the laughter stops it continues to hurt in a different way. I never bring up Adrian. I stare into the bin as though I’m fascinated with its contents, but there’s no fooling your best friends. Penny’s arm snakes around my waist. I try to stop the tears. I hate crying in front of people. I cry over stray cats, old people eating dinner alone and lonely looking little kids. I’m a huge crybaby, but I like to cry by myself.

  “I miss him, you guys,” I whisper.

  “Don’t you think we know?” Nelly asks, like he can’t believe I think it’s a secret. I wipe away the tears, but the more I think about it the faster they come.

  “You know, I could have chosen a better day to decide I’ve made a huge mistake. Only I would choose the day of the zombie apocalypse,” I say, which makes them laugh. I smile through my tears, and the lump in my throat eases. “There’s no way to contact him, even just to make sure he’s okay.”

  “If anyone’s fine, it’s Adrian,” Nelly says with certainty. “He’s on a farm in northern Vermont. I can’t remember the name. I had an email he sent, but it was my old account.”

  “I didn’t know you guys still spoke.” I’m jealous and have to remind myself I have no right to be.

  “We’ve emailed now and then. The last time was about a year ago. I wrote him twice to tell him my new email address but never heard back.”

  He shrugs, but I know he cares. Adrian was his friend, too. When I broke up with him it must have been hard to straddle two friendships.

  I touch Nelly’s arm. “I’m sorry I made you guys lose touch.” I mentally add another item to the list of things Cassie has messed up in recent years. It’s growing by the minute. I’m dying to know what he and Adrian talked about. “Did he…? I mean, what did…”

  “He wanted to know how you were, said he missed you. The last time he wrote he asked if I thought you would talk to him. I tried to bring it up, but you were so opposed to talking about Adrian that you shut me down. I told him he could try, but I didn’t know how it would go over.”

  I finger the concert tickets and imagine how different my life would be if I hadn’t been too stubborn and ashamed to admit that I fucked up, even to myself.

  “I wish you would have made me listen,” I say, even though I’m sure he tried.

  Nelly raises an eyebrow. “Do you have any idea what you’re like when you don’t want to talk about something? I know you do. You are the most stubborn human being in the world. Please.”

  His face is stern. I might be able to lie to myself, but Nelly won’t stand for me lying to him.

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s my own fault. I didn’t listen. But you’re the second most stubborn.” I make a silly face at him.

  “Hey, I can admit when I’m wrong. I just never am,” he says. Penny groans and rolls her eyes. “Plus, I’m bossy. There’s a big difference.”

  I raise my hands in surrender.

  “Okay, enough memory lane, people,” Penny says. “There’s a ton of crap to go through before my mom gets here. James is on the computer, and Ana is mooning over Peter, so I figured I’d come down here and help.” She reads the bin labels. “Sleeping bags, mats, lamps, cookware. Jeez, did you get rid of anything?”

  “Nope. Eric organized it all. That’s who put all this stuff I threw out in this bin.”

  I’m grateful he rescued the wooden box and promise myself I’ll tell him when I see him. I wonder what Adrian’s doing right now. If that farm in Vermont is his. The night I met him he already knew that was exactly what he wanted.

  I was sitting on a couch at a frat house party at my upstate New York college and wondering what I was doing there. My roommate of a week was across the room. I watched as she draped herself over any guy with a pulse.

  “Not your kind of scene? Mine either.” The voice came from a guy who sat on the other end of the couch. His sandy hair was messy and his lips formed a wry smile as he saw me take in his shirt with Greek letters on it.

  I looked at the letters and then back up at him. “Yeah?”

  “I have no choice,” he drawled, his accent more apparent. “I’m a legacy. If I don’t embrace the life of a frat boy my daddy will disown me.” He held out a big hand. “Name’s Nel. I’m from Texas originally.”

  I shook it. “Cassie. Nice to meet you.”

  “So, Cassie, who are you and what are you doing here? You don’t look like the usual clientele.”

  I shrugged and pointed at my roommate. “She begged me to come with her. I figured I’d give it a whirl. I’m from Brooklyn. Sociology major.” I shrugged. “Boring.”

  “Brooklyn? That’s not boring. I’m moving to the city once I graduate. This is boring.” He took in the room. “The funneling and male chest-beating. The drunk girls and their screaming fights. A lot of the guys are okay if you don’t take it too seriously, but the parties are terrible.”

  I knew he wasn’t your average frat boy; his eyes twinkled as he made fun of it all.

  “My roommate is auditioning for the role of Drunken Girl.” I pointed to where she sat on someone’s lap giggling.

  “It’s times like this I’m glad I don’t like girls.”

  While I couldn’t have cared less, fraternities aren’t known as a hotbed of equal rights. “And everyone here is cool with that?”

  “Yeah. Especially since they know they’re not my type. They all think they’re God’s gift to w
omen and were surprised to find it didn’t extend to men, too.” I laughed as he grinned. “I came out senior year of high school and took some shit for it. I refuse to hide anymore.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed. “But, Texas? That must have been rough.”

  “Well, it didn’t hurt that I can beat the crap out of most guys who might have a problem with me.” He made a mean face and then replaced it with a sunny smile. “I was a football player and my closest friends on the team knew. They stood up for me, too.”

  I tease Nelly that he told me he was gay right away so I didn’t fall in love with him. Girls are always falling in love with Nelly. But there wasn’t time for me to fall in love with him, because at that moment he spotted someone across the room and waved.

  The guy made his way toward us. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and pretty green eyes. They really were pretty, and with his light olive skin and high cheekbones he might have been pretty, too. But his strong jaw and his nose, which was just slightly imperfect, were enough to make him interesting. He was wearing a t-shirt with some indie band’s name on it and jeans. When he smiled one deep dimple appeared.

  “Adrian, this is Cassie. Cassie, Adrian.” Nelly said, just as someone called his name. “Ah, I’ll be right back. They always want the gay guy for the things that involve food. You’d think I know how to cook.”

  Adrian sat down on the couch. I’m not very good at making conversation in general, and most definitely not with good-looking men. I smiled nervously and consoled myself with the thought that he was Nelly’s date, even though he was my type, too. There was no reason to act like a tongue-tied second grader.

  Adrian turned those eyes on me with interest. “Hi, Cassie. What year are you? I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  “Junior. I just transferred this year. How about you?”

  “Junior, too. It’s a decent school, people are pretty nice.”

  I nodded and tried to think of something to say, but my mind was a complete blank. It occurred to me that I shouldn’t be allowed to participate in social interactions without a set of note cards. Adrian saved me.