All Roads End Here

by David Moody

  “Go on.”

  “What we have operating in this building, Matthew, is a Hater reeducation program of sorts.”

  Matt can’t help laughing out loud. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I assure you I’m not. See, my thinking is this: If we keep fighting, if we keep attacking each other, then sooner or later there’ll be nothing left. Not everyone wants to fight, and that includes some of the Haters, too. There are many of them who are so consumed by the Hate that it’s their only focus, but equally there are many more out there who are lost, who have lost. When that bastard killed my family, he was almost as distraught as I was. He didn’t want to do it, I’m certain of that now. Here we believe that there are some Haters who exist on the borderline, who can be pulled back toward civility.”

  “Bollocks.”

  “Why do you think we’ve been risking our necks out there?” Estelle asks. “You’ve been helping us catch the reluctant few.”

  “Yeah, I thought it was because they were easy targets.”

  “Not quite.”

  “So you’re going to train them to behave again, is that it? Teach them tricks like dogs?”

  “We’re trying to reconnect them with the people they used to be, not train them to fetch sticks,” Joseph says.

  “I’ve heard it all now. So say you’re able to get them to behave, then what? Do you just set them free?”

  “What do you think? We get them out of the city.”

  “And then? Do you expect them to go back out into the wild and spread your word like bloody church missionaries?”

  “Who knows what will happen. It’s very early days still.”

  Matt’s really struggling to get his head around any of what he’s been told. “I’m sorry, and please don’t take offense, but I think you’re a bunch of absolute fucking cranks.”

  “And I don’t blame you in the slightest for thinking that,” Estelle says. She stands up. In her military fatigues she cuts a diminutive yet imposing figure. “Why don’t you work with us, Matthew? I think you understand more about Hater behavior than you probably think. I realized you had something about you by the way you tracked Franklin back to base when we first met. Mr. Franklin here speaks very highly of you.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I said I couldn’t get rid of him, that’s all.”

  “Mr. Franklin left me for dead today,” Matt reminds her.

  “Since we last met you’ve been out into the battle zone on several occasions and each time you’ve made it back in one piece. Most people go out once and either never return or vow never to go back out again. You’ve bucked that trend. You’ve also managed to find this place and break in. No one else has done that, either.”

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “I don’t think so. There’s no such thing as luck. My father used to say you need two things to be successful in this world, courage and luck. And if you’ve got enough courage, you don’t need any luck.”

  “Very inspirational,” he grumbles, sarcastic.

  She allows herself half a smile. “Help yourself to some food from the stores here, then go home and get some rest. Why don’t you come back tomorrow and spend some time with Joseph? Let him try and convince you. Yes, it might seem futile trying to shape the behavior of a handful of Haters when there are hundreds of thousands still out there, baying for our blood, but we believe it’s an important first step. When our forces have finished pounding them out in the wastelands, when the enemy is exhausted and broken and starving and weak, we’ll be ready to take back control. The people we’re working with here will be the bridge between us, you mark my words. Don’t write us off until you’ve seen what we’ve achieved.”

  23

  Matt remembers his first day working with Ronan, Paul, and the others, back before the old world died. He’d had his doubts about Ronan’s company from the outset, but had taken an uncharacteristic risk and accepted the job. Jen gave him a pep talk on the way out the door. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t like it,” she’d said. “Just go and see what it’s like.” Weird how her words are rattling around his head this morning. It’s true, though. If Joseph and the others are as crazy as he believes they are, he can just walk away.

  Joseph’s slopping out when Matt arrives at the repurposed convent, and he’s immediately press-ganged into helping out. Matt thinks his life has reached a new low now, clearing up Hater shit and emptying it out in the yard.

  “Before we start today, I need you to do something for me,” Joseph says ominously as they work. “You have to lose your preconceptions and drop your automatic defense mechanisms while you’re here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “What defense mechanisms?”

  “I see it in your every reaction. Someone makes a suggestion, you start looking for reasons it’ll fail, not reasons why it might succeed. We’re drowning in a sea of negativity these days. You need to have a positive outlook.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Granted, but by all accounts you’ve spent a good deal of time out in the open, surviving on your wits. You can only have done that by having a positive approach. You’ve no doubt also survived by being guarded and putting up barriers. Now I’m asking you to pull them down. What we’re all doing in this situation—you, me, the Haters—is demonstrating the exact same behaviors. It’s completely understandable … we’re all driven by instinct. Now there’s the mother of all differences between our instincts and theirs—”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “—but what I’m seeing in you is the exact same thing I’m trying to instill in the Haters I’m working with. I’ve been thinking about what Estelle said yesterday. You approach things from a different perspective than most, and it gets results. It’s almost like you have a kind of filter in place. Franklin was amazed you made it back alive and that you managed to get into this place. It shows real foresight and planning. A calmness, almost. The Hate has stripped away that rationality from most of the enemy. They see one of us and all control is immediately lost because all they want is to kill. So what we’re trying to do here is teach them to show the same kind of restraint you’ve proved yourself capable of, to think first and hold the hate rather than just lash out.”

  The two men are standing at the bottom of the staircase at the entrance to the convent.

  “You’re staring at me, Matthew, but you’re not saying anything. What are you thinking? Trying to work out whether I’m crazy or have a death wish or both?”

  “To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m thinking.”

  When a surly-looking woman approaches, Joseph catches her eye. “Morning, Selena. How’s Angie today?”

  “A little calmer,” the woman replies, sounding tired. “I was up most of the night with her. She’s taking food and water from me now. She’s advancing pretty quickly, all things considered.”

  “Mind if we go up and see her?”

  “Be my guest.”

  Joseph climbs the stairs into the bowels of the convent and Matt follows. “Between you and me, Matthew, I think Selena’s the best we have here. She’s far better than me. I mean, I can get results, but she’s so quick and efficient. She seems to cut the crap and gets straight to their heads and their hearts. A woman’s touch seems to really make a difference. Maybe you’ll get to see her in action. She mothers them. She’s very good.”

  Matt’s heard Selena’s name before. “Wait … The Hater who got loose a few days back, he was one of hers, wasn’t he?”

  “Indeed. But it wasn’t her fault. It just shows you just how difficult and unpredictable this process can be.”

  Joseph stops outside the same room where Matt was cornered last night and pushes open the door. Matt suddenly feels unbearably nervous. He knows there’s a Hater in here who’d kill both him and Joseph in a heartbeat. Him especially, he thinks, as he’s directly responsible for her being held here in captivity. He’s relieved when he sees that Angie is still strapped tightly to
the bed. The room smells rank. Sweat and musk and Christ knows what else. It’s inhuman to keep someone in these conditions, he thinks, but then again, inhuman is exactly what these bastards are.

  Joseph goes inside and gestures for Matt to follow. Angie is asleep, but not for long. She seems to sense the two of them there and her eyes open wide, panic-filled. She goes to sit up but her body is restrained. She tries to lift her head, but it’s bound to the bed with a strap across her forehead. She tries to scream, but she’s gagged. Joseph stands his ground in full view at the foot of the bed. The Hater’s ire is barely contained, restricted only by her binds. But then she slows. Calms. Relaxes. Or is it resignation?

  “That’s good, Angie, really good,” Joseph says. “Do you remember me? I’m Joseph. We spent some time together when you first got here. Remember why we brought you to this place?”

  The Hater woman’s eyes are wild. Expressions are difficult to read with the gag and the strap across her forehead, but Matt’s sure he detects a subtle change. Then there’s a definite movement. Christ, is this animal communicating with him? Is she nodding?

  “Good, Angie, good. You thirsty?”

  Another reaction. It’s not much, but it’s far less venomous than anything Matt’s seen from a Hater before. Joseph picks up a bottle of water and takes a few tentative steps closer. Angie writhes on the bed as he approaches, but then appears to remember herself and relaxes slightly. Joseph waits—making sure it’s safe—then carefully removes her gag and holds the bottle up to her lips. She drinks several large gulps, then drops her head back to the pillow, exhausted. He replaces her gag then ushers Matt back out into the hallway.

  “So what do you think? When she was brought here yesterday she’d have probably bitten my bloody hand off if I’d tried anything like that.”

  He looks at Matt hopefully, but Matt can’t match his enthusiasm. “What do you want me to say, Joseph? Yeah, so she’s now the most placid Hater I’ve ever seen, but so what? She’d still kill both of us if she wasn’t tied down. Do you really think this is going to make any difference?”

  Joseph sighs and leans back against the wall. “I think it just might. Makes me feel better trying to do something, though, you know?”

  “I get that, but is this really the best use of your time? You know what this reminds me of? Those frigging stupid dancing horses you used to see on TV. Remember them? Dressage, wasn’t it? They had them all moving around in unison, nodding their heads and tapping their hooves on the ground in time with the music. All very impressive if you like that kind of thing, but by the end of it you had to ask yourself, what’s the fucking point of a dancing horse?”

  “You’re far too cynical. Don’t you see what I’ve proved here? The change that turned them into killers, it could possibly be reversed. It’s likely an emotional, not a physical change. We already know the Haters you and the others have been bringing back from out on the fringes aren’t ready to give up everything of the people they used to be. I believe there’s still some good in them somewhere.”

  “Are you for real? They killed your family, remember? Do you have any idea how clichéd this all sounds?”

  Joseph smiles, shakes his head, then looks down at his feet. “Forgive me. Okay, maybe I’m being a little too elaborate with my explanation. What I mean is, there’s still a chance of reversing the damage these people have done by appealing to what it was that made them human in the first place. They’re the same people, they just got caught up on the wrong side of the wave of change that’s washed over the entire planet.”

  “And what about the Hater who got loose and started killing people by the arena the other day?”

  “That was damn unfortunate. But you need to keep things in perspective, Matthew. We’ve had many more successes than failures.”

  “I think you’re the one who needs to keep things in perspective. You’re one man. You have, what, five Haters here right now according to Estelle? There are millions of them out there. Millions. Do you expect these few to cure the whole damn lot of them?”

  “No, but those we do help will go on to help others. It’ll be exponential. You’re right, though, it’s a massive undertaking and I have no idea if it’ll be successful, but we have to try, don’t we?”

  “We’re bit players in the most far-reaching war there’s ever been. You’re kidding yourself if you think what you’re doing is going to make any difference.”

  24

  Despite the fact that East Kent Road is so full of people he can hardly move tonight, Matt’s home earlier than usual. He’s empty-handed, and the others are immediately concerned. “What’s wrong?” Jen asks.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” he tells her, deliberately vague, and he goes upstairs to change. He takes his time going back down. He sits on the end of the bed, trying to make sense of everything that’s happened over the last couple of days.

  When he finally goes into the kitchen, they’re all there waiting. Mrs. Walker, Jason, and Jen are sitting around the table with one seat left vacant. “What is this, some kind of inquisition? Am I head of the household or prime suspect?”

  “Neither,” Jen says, and she gestures for him to sit down.

  Mrs. Walker’s the next to speak. She clears her throat, sounding as unsure as Matt’s feeling. “I’ve not known you for long, Matthew, but I’ve seen enough to know that you’re a decent man. When decent men like you come home from being out in a place as bloody awful as this city and they tell the woman they love that nothing’s wrong, then it’s blatantly obvious that everything’s wrong. We’re all adults here, and I need you to be honest. Level with us.”

  He can’t help but laugh. “Be honest? I don’t think anyone here’s been completely honest for a while now. If we were being honest, we’d have faced up to the fucking awful situation we’re in by now.”

  “I’ve been honest,” Jason says, and Matt laughs again.

  “You? You’re the very worst, mate. You talk like you’re the big man, all full of noise, but you never follow any of it up with action. First sign of trouble and you fall apart. You demonstrated that perfectly the other night when the food ran out at the arena. Where’s your backup plan? I don’t know how you’ve managed to survive for so long. I reckon everything you’ve told me so far is crap. All that stuff about your fancy flat…”

  “That’s true,” Jen says, jumping to Jason’s defense. “Amit told me. He showed me photos on his phone before the power died.”

  “Your flat?” Mrs. Walker interrupts. “Amit told me you were staying with your parents…”

  “You see,” Matt says.

  “I never said I owned the flat.”

  “Okay, maybe not, but we assumed and you let us believe it.” Matt watches Jason, who stares dead ahead into the evening gloom, then he turns to look at Mrs. Walker. “And your kid’s not diabetic, is she?”

  There’s a collective intake of breath. “Jesus, Matt, have you lost your mind?” Jen says.

  “I’m not denying the girl’s sick, but she’s not diabetic.”

  “That’s out of order,” Jason protests, animated again now the heat’s off him. “I’ve been getting her medication.”

  “I know, I’ve seen it stockpiled in the front room. I’m sure Sophie is sick but she’s not diabetic, is she? Our diets are so poor I reckon she’d have had all kinds of problems by now.”

  Absolute silence. Mrs. Walker has tears rolling down her cheeks. She reluctantly nods. “Sophie’s always suffered with her health, but it’s anxiety as much as anything. We’re all anxious, though, everyone is. If I hadn’t said something like diabetes she’d have been forgotten. I’m sorry…”

  “I’m not angry,” Matt says quickly. “I don’t blame you. You’ve deceived the rest of us, but I think you did it for the right reason. You’re just looking out for your kids.”

  “And what about me?” Jen demands, sounding more angry than Matt thinks he’s ever seen her before.

  “I love you more than anything, Jen, hone
st I do, but you’re just as bad as the others. You’re agoraphobic, but you won’t say it. You never used to let me tell anyone. I used to have to make excuses. The people at work thought you were a figment of my imagination because they’d never met you.”

  “Why would I want to go outside now?”

  “You wouldn’t, and right now I’m relieved you haven’t. How would I ever have found you if you’d left this house?”

  “So why are you attacking me?”

  “I’m not. I just can’t sit back and watch you all carrying on like everything’s going to be all right here as long as we keep the front door shut. The world’s falling apart out there, don’t you get it?”

  “And you’re perfect, are you?” Jason says, the venom in his voice barely contained. “Some kind of fucking genius because you managed to get back home in one piece?”

  Matt shakes his head. “Nope. I think I’m the worst of the lot, actually. I’ve not been honest. I’ve been dumb and naive and every time I think I’ve taken a step forward, I look around and I’ve taken ten steps back. I’ve dragged you all back with me in the process.”

  “I think you still have a better idea what’s happening here than the rest of us,” Mrs. Walker says. “You’ve seen more of what’s left of the world, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah, but he won’t tell us about it, will he?” Jason snaps.

  Matt looks down at the table and, for the longest time, he doesn’t speak. “I don’t want to tell you, because there’s nothing we can do about any of it,” he eventually admits. “What good would telling you do?”

  “But we’re not trying to fix this,” Jason says, “we’re just trying to stay alive. Shit, man, if you managed to stay safe on your own out there with hundreds of Haters all ’round you like you claim, you must be able to get us through whatever this place can hurl at us.”

  “He’s right,” Jen says. “What do we need to do to stay safe and stay alive, Matt?”

  Another reluctant pause.