Until the End of the World Box Set

by Sarah Lyons Fleming

  “We love you girls, that’s all,” Maureen says gently. “We don’t want to lose you.”

  I look away. My bags are packed for a guilt trip, but I don’t hop on the train. No matter how much they love me, I still end up in bed alone. But I guess I can’t expect them to understand. We’ve all lost people, I know, but no one but Caleb and I has lost anyone from our new life. I kick back my chair and bring my plate to the empty seat at Liz and Dan’s table.

  “Girl, you in trouble,” Liz sings.

  “Tell me about it,” I say.

  I glance back. Everyone at the table watches me with disappointment, except for Ana, who looks jealous. I stick my tongue out at her. She pretends to scratch her chin with her middle finger, and my new table breaks into laughter.

  “It was dangerous,” Dan says. I turn to him and sigh. He lifts his hands. “Just saying. It was also awesome, but no one at this table wants you to fall into the quarry, either.”

  “That was a huge pod,” I argue, “and if they came to the fence it’d be a mess to clean up. And I know the fence is strong, but just a single Lexer—look at Whitefield.”

  “I would’ve come if you hadn’t blown past us,” Liz says. She takes a bite of dinner. Caleb watches the fork move to her mouth and head to her plate again. He averts his gaze when she stops, fork halfway to her mouth, and catches him in the act.

  “I’m thirsty,” she says. Caleb takes her cup and heads to the back without a word. Liz sighs. “No matter how many times I tell him no, he won’t stop.”

  “Well, at least you’re putting him to work,” Shawn says. He strokes his new goatee and adds, “You know none of us would care, right? If you guys hooked up?”

  Jamie nods, her eyes bright. “I think it’d be cool. Who else are you going to date? Dan?”

  “Hey!” Dan says. Jamie blows him a kiss.

  Liz closes her eyes and shudders. “Absolutely not, you guys. He’s like my little brother.”

  47

  I’ve finally dragged myself to art class. I keep promising Bits I’ll do it, and then I sleep through. She finally stopped asking, which makes me feel even worse. It’s not like there’s much to do; all the kids are working on comics and graphic novels now.

  “I’ll try to get some comics when I’m on patrol in a few days,” I tell the kids, and ignore Penny’s glare.

  “And some paper,” Hank reminds me from where he and Bits sit.

  “You got it.”

  Hank thanks me, but Bits acts like I’m invisible. Her relief that the Lexers didn’t make it to the fence has translated into several nights of unbroken sleep, but that doesn’t mean she was pleased with me once she heard. I thought she would be, since there was nothing to fear. Everything feels wrong between us, and I know I’m to blame. I’ve changed, not her. But what’s better—a sad, crying mother figure, or one who at least does her best to protect you? It appears they both suck.

  After class, I walk through the vegetable garden and come upon Ana hiding under the tomato plants. She has bags under her eyes, probably due to the heated conversations I hear from the other bedroom every night.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” I say.

  “Help me up.” I pull her to her feet. If Ana’s not bouncing around, she’s definitely miserable. “I was talking to the plants, but I think they’re mad at me, too.”

  “For the love of all that’s holy, just apologize and get it over with. I’m sure that’s all he wants.”

  She throws her arms in the air and looks like she might cry. “No, he wants a promise that I won’t do anything stupid or dangerous. How can I promise that?”

  “I promised Adrian, and he promised me. It’s not crazy to ask, Banana. You do some stupid shit. Put yourself in Peter’s shoes. How would you like it if he did the things you’ve done?”

  “I wouldn’t,” she admits, and her eyes glitter. “But I’m so much better at everything than him.”

  I put my arm around her shoulder with a laugh. “One of the things Peter loves about you, besides your modesty, of course, is the way you’re fearless. You’re not afraid of anything—zombies, tomato plants, or even to love with your whole heart. When you do something, you do it all the way, and that’s rare. But you have to temper it a little because honestly, if I were Peter, I’d have killed you by now.”

  She exhales. “Okay, I know. Now what should I do about Penny? She’s so angry.”

  “Beats me,” I say. “But when you figure it out, let me know.”

  My backpack is ready, my hair is in buns and I’ve ventured to Penny’s room to say goodbye to Bits. It looks different, but I’m still slapped in the face by Adrian’s scent when I walk through the door. I pick up Sparky and bury myself in her neck until I’m composed.

  “Hey, Bits, I’m getting ready to go. Can I have a kiss?” She lies in her bed by the window and stares at the ceiling. I sit at the edge of the bed and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Please?”

  Her lips thin. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I know, but I have to.”

  “Why? Why do you have to?”

  “We’ve talked about this, sweetie. We need food and gas. We need to protect ourselves.”

  “You’re always leaving,” she says. “You don’t want to be with me.”

  It’s not that I don’t want to be with her; it’s that I don’t want to be here. I love her as much as I ever did, but I don’t know how to be the way I used to be with her. Sometimes it feels like too big of an effort, too much of a responsibility.

  “I love you so much, Bits. It’s just been hard these last months. It’s not—”

  She narrows her eyes. “You ignore me all the time! You’re so selfish. I hate you!”

  I try to stop myself, but between hearing the words I know I deserve and sitting in this room that reminds me of everything I’ve lost, I lose the battle with my temper.

  “How do you think you get clothes and shoes? How do you think you get things like candy? The cookies you like to eat are made with sugar, Bits! They don’t just fall out of the sky, you know.” My voice is rising. I’ve never spoken to Bits like this. I should stop, I want to stop, but I don’t. “Why can’t you let me go without making it a huge deal? Do you want me to let zombies come to the fence? Would you like that?”

  Her eyes grow round, and she faces the wall with shaking shoulders. I want to kick myself for ruining the only positive thing I’ve done in the past months by scaring her.

  “Bits, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I said that, okay?” I try to kiss her, but her arms fly up and hit me in the nose. The van’s horn beeps twice.

  “Bits, I have to go. Can I please have a hug?”

  “No.” Her voice is muffled. “I hate you.”

  “Okay. I know you’re angry, and I’m sorry. But I love you.” I kiss the top of her head, and she scrubs at the spot with a hand.

  “Bye,” I whisper.

  Penny stands in the hall, arms crossed and face hard. I brush past her and clatter down the stairs to the porch. The screen door slams open behind me.

  Penny follows me onto the grass and stops with her hands on her hips. “Cassie!”

  “I can’t talk,” I say.

  “Why? Because you have to go fight zombies?”

  Her voice is sarcastic, and she waves her hands in the air like big fucking whoop. I want to punch her, but I fold my arms instead. “Actually, yeah, Penny. That’s exactly why.”

  “That’s bullshit. You barely speak to me even when you’re here. And now you’re yelling at Bits?”

  “I need to leave. Bits won’t let me go without screaming. What do you want me to do?”

  Penny moves closer. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe stay? She needs you, and you escape every moment you can like she has the fucking plague.”

  The comment hurts, probably because it’s true, and I think of something to shoot back that saves me from answering. “The world has the plague, in case you didn’t notice. I’m doing my best to keep us all from getting
it.”

  “Oh, right.” Penny rolls her eyes. “Saving the world. Is a box of crackers worth making that little girl inside miserable? She doesn’t want candy, she wants you.”

  “I’m keeping her a lot less miserable than she’d be otherwise. Bits has lots of people to help take care of her. Why is it all on me?”

  I feel horrible after the words leave my mouth. I know I’m failing Bits in every other way. Keeping her safe is the one thing I don’t fail at.

  “Because you’re closest thing she has to a mother,” Penny says. Her cheeks are pink, and she speaks low, but it has the same effect as a scream. “Do you know that sometimes she calls you her mom to the other kids? You don’t get to be her mother only when you feel like it. You spend all your time racing off to kill Lexers, and I know you don’t care if you come back. You have a death wish.”

  I shrug, even though every word she’s saying is true. The knowledge that Bits calls me her mom is a knife to the heart. I want so badly to go back in, but I’m too stubborn to do it. “I prefer to think of it as courting death.”

  “Oh, that’s real funny. Who are you—Ana? I expect this shit from my sister. I know one day she won’t come back, everyone does. But what am I supposed to tell Bits when you don’t? ‘She loved you, but not enough to stick around?’ What’s wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” I ask. “You’re the one who disapproves of everything I do. I can see it every time you look at me. I’m sorry that you think I’m fucking things up, but we’re not all as lucky as you, you know!”

  She steps forward with a small laugh. “Lucky? Really?”

  I guess we’re getting into this now, and I’m more than ready. “Yeah, lucky. You have James, you have a baby, you teach at a pioneer school like you’re Laura fucking Ingalls. You don’t have to get your hands dirty. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

  “Right.” She drags out the word.

  “Yeah. Right. You’re as close as you can get to a completely normal life. You don’t know what it’s like—you have everything. You know what I have? I have nothing.” I hold back the tears. I am not going to cry. I’m not going to let her know she’s getting to me.

  “You’re right,” Penny says. “I don’t know what it’s like. But you don’t have nothing. How do you think that makes the rest of us feel when you say that? I’m not saying you have to be happy, but you need to at least try to stay alive.”

  Penny’s eyes redden, and she swipes at the tears that plop onto her cheeks. “You think I don’t know this baby’s a crying, screaming zombie magnet? I’m scared, Cass. I need my best friend back.”

  I want to be back, but I can’t find my way. I’ve been envious of Penny’s contentment and angry at her disapproval. But Penny has always been good at hiding her fear, and maybe the reason for her disapproval is that I’m one of the things she’s afraid to lose. The thoughts flit through my mind, mixed up and unclear. Someone calls my name, and I’m thankful for the distraction.

  “Are we done?” I ask. It comes out more harshly than I’d intended.

  Penny sighs and turns away. “Sure, Cass, we’re done.”

  I risk a glance at the house after I’m in the van, thinking maybe I’ll wave or try to smile, but Penny’s already back inside.

  48

  The ride to Quebec is almost three hours, what with having to clear out the customs booths that were jam-packed with cars and temporary fences. Thankfully, they weren’t jam-packed with Lexers, although we had to take care of a few. The authorities tried to cordon off Canada, but obviously that didn’t work out. The farther away we travel from Kingdom Come, the worse I feel. I know I don’t have nothing—I have Bits. Right now I may not be fully invested in living, but if Bits were gone I don’t think I could muster the energy to keep fighting. There would be nothing left to fight for.

  I sit in the back of the van, book unopened on my lap. Dan drives, while Peter, Toby and Ana scan the countryside. Shawn, Jamie, Liz and Caleb are in the pickup, pulling the trailer. The trailer holds our fuel drums, and we’re hoping to fill the rest of the empty space with food in Stowe and Waterbury tomorrow. Empty farmhouses and overgrown fields flash by, broken by the occasional copse of trees. It’s not as mountainous here compared to Kingdom Come, although the ground moves up and down in gentle waves that look like someone took a fuzzy green blanket and carelessly threw it over the dirt.

  “Earth to Cassandra,” Peter says.

  I look up. “What? Sorry.”

  He joins me in the back. “I saw you and Penny talking. You both looked upset.”

  I look around the van, but the others are busy pointing out a group of Lexers caught in a barbed wire fence. “She was just telling me what an awful mother I am.”

  Peter looks like he’s about to argue, but I nod and lean my head on the seat back. “No, she’s right. I’ve been a shitty mother. The worst part is that I told myself I was doing some great thing for Bits by protecting her and was annoyed that she wasn’t thankful. But I was being selfish.”

  “You’re not selfish. You’re always doing things for other people.”

  “No, that was Adrian.”

  “And why do you think he loved you? You’re just like him.”

  I don’t feel like him. Adrian was what I aspired to, but I’m too flawed, too prone to fucking things up. And then he went and did the most unselfish act a person can do for another. He did it for me, and I don’t deserve it.

  “You always offer to take a shift when someone doesn’t want it—even the laundry,” Peter says. “On poop day. You make a huge deal out of everyone’s birthdays. You want everyone to be happy and go out of your way to make people laugh, especially when they’re sad.”

  I shrug. “Who doesn’t do all those things?”

  “Lots of people, that’s who.”

  “You do.”

  “Well, that’s because I’m a pretty amazing guy.”

  I roll my head his way to find him grinning at me. “Well, be that as it may, I’ve still been a shitty mother.”

  “Cut yourself some slack, as John would say. It’s been a rough few months. You’ve done your best.”

  “No, I haven’t.” I watch trees flash by. “It should’ve been me, in the woods. At the fence. People needed him more than they need me.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve ruined everything that was good. Adrian wouldn’t have done that.”

  “Adrian kept you alive because he didn’t want to be without you,” Peter says in a forceful voice that makes me turn to him. He almost looks angry. “You haven’t ruined everything. You just forgot to keep on living. That was all he wanted—for you to keep living. Believe me, I know.”

  I picture Peter standing on the dumpsters as we drove away that day in Bennington. He’d looked happy, he had been happy.

  “It feels wrong,” I whisper. “Like a betrayal.”

  He puts his arm around my shoulder. “I know that, too. But it’s not. Do you believe that?”

  I nod, although I don’t yet. Not fully, anyway. “I yelled at Bits before we left. I scared her. She was worried, and instead of trying to make her feel better, I made it worse. She hates me, and I don’t blame her.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” he says, and squeezes my hand. “She loves you. And she needs you, but you’ve been…missing.”

  It hurts to hear him say it, but it’s the truth. I’m getting a lot of truth today. “Well, I’m not anymore. When we get back, the first thing I’m going to do is apologize to her.”

  I want to turn around. I want to fix this. I’m not sure how to do it, but I’m starting right now. I rest my head on Peter’s shoulder and watch a Lexer meander in a field. I still hate them, though. That’s never going to change.

  “Anyone know French?” Toby asks. “How are we going to know what they’re saying?”

  “Toby, you’re an idiot,” Dan says. “They talk to us by radio. How do you think that happens?”

  “Oh, right.”r />
  “I think we should have turned a minute ago,” Ana says, and studies the map in her lap.

  Dan slows, and the truck pulls alongside. Shawn leans out the window. “What’s up?”

  “I think we were supposed to turn back there,” Ana says. “Can you turn with the trailer?”

  “I can do anything,” Shawn says. “Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

  Jamie rolls her eyes from the passenger seat. “Are we lost?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ana says. “But all the French names are throwing me off.”

  “Google it!” Caleb yells from the back of the pickup.

  “That joke never gets old, Cabe,” Liz says.

  The next road is paved, and we follow it alongside a lake surrounded by a fence made of rope, barbed wire and wood until we reach the turnoff. A short dark-haired man in his sixties stands behind the chain-link.

  “Kingdom Come?” he asks in Quebecois-accented English.

  Dan nods, and the man smiles, his broad-featured face breaking into a network of lines. “Hello! I’m Gabriel. I’ll take you to the main house.”

  He nods to an older man in a driver’s cap, who unlocks the chain that secures the fence and swings it back. Gabriel straddles a bike and motions us to follow him down the dirt road. It’s heavily wooded, except for a large house in a clearing every four hundred feet or so. They’re beautiful houses; most are two-story, with back porches on which to sit and enjoy the lakefront view. The lake is still, reflecting the blue sky and puffy clouds of the sweltering day.

  We gape at the mown grass around the houses. We have weeds or mud. The only thing that gives away our new reality are the vegetable gardens, the outhouses set back from the lake and the stovepipes that have been fitted onto roofs. In front of one house, a few kids kick a ball while a woman watches from a chaise lounge with a yawn.

  We pass four houses before Gabriel stops and gestures at a stone house in a clearing the size of a small park. More than a dozen people sit at picnic tables on the grass to the left, and to the right is a vegetable garden that has gone haywire, in a good way. We pull to a stop in the circular driveway and step into the fresh-smelling air. I love Kingdom Come, but it doesn’t always smell clean like this—farm animals and giant compost piles really stink.