The End of Everything Box Set, Vol. 1 [Books 1-3]

by Artinian, Christopher

  “But they could be there for ages!”

  “I doubt it, Bobbi. It looks like they’re just emptying the place.”

  “But all our stuff. What are we going to do?”

  “We can always get more stuff,” Wren said.

  “From where? You think Ikea are still delivering? Cos I don’t.”

  Wren wiped her eyes. “We can find more stuff, Bobbi, but we can’t risk them seeing us. God knows what would happen.”

  “So where do you want to go?”

  “We can’t get to Jeb’s place without going past them, so that’s out. I think we should just go a bit deeper into the woods, not too far, so we can still hear when the engines start again, but far enough so there’s no chance of them seeing us.”

  “There’s no chance of them seeing us here,” Robyn replied.

  “I don’t want to risk being this close…do you?”

  Robyn looked in the direction of the farm. “No. I suppose not.”

  The sisters started walking back into the woods in silence. The sun was still beating down, but now, their eyes were fixed firmly on the ground.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jeb gently rubbed the sandpaper over the back of the rocking chair. Robyn and Wren had both commented on how much they loved the rocking chair in his kitchen, and he had built them one each as a surprise. He could not wait to show them, and it would not be much longer. He would finish the sanding this very afternoon, then apply the first coat of varnish this evening.

  He smiled as he worked, imagining the looks on their faces when he presented the two chairs to them. The girls had given meaning to his life when he needed it the most. They kept thanking him for everything he did for them, but really, it was they who had done something for him.

  He turned the chair and was about to start sanding the other side when something dragged him from his daydream. A sound. He placed the sandpaper down on his bench and walked out into the afternoon sun, wiping his hands on the back of his jeans.

  The noise gradually grew in volume, until a black Range Rover, heading a small convoy of lorries, drove into the yard and pulled up a few feet away from him.

  Jeb just stood there looking perplexed. Two men climbed out of the Range Rover and walked over to him.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen?” Jeb asked.

  “The farm up the road,” said the older looking one of the two.

  “What about it?” Jeb said, beginning to feel very uneasy as he saw the lorries idling in the mouth to the farmyard, blocking any possible exit.

  “Where are the people who own it?”

  The younger man turned to the trucks to give them a signal to cut their engines, and in that split second, Jeb caught sight of a pistol protruding from the back of his jeans. He felt the blood in his veins freeze as he realised he was not long for this world. The one saving grace was these men had not found Robyn or Wren...yet.

  “They’re...passed.”

  “What do you mean passed?”

  “The fire in Stirling. Caused a lot of those…things to come by this way. Next day when I headed up there, saw plenty of blood, but nothing else.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, how come the range was still warm?”

  “Erm…those old things...they retain heat for days. I went up there day before yesterday, wanted to see if there was anything useful, made myself a drink.”

  “You’re not a very good liar, old man. The cupboards had food in them. Did you go up there this morning and have breakfast as well? Cos there were bowls in the sink. Now, I’ll ask again. Where are they?”

  Jeb thought back to a few days before when he had felt so cowardly letting Wren and Robyn do the fighting to get his heart meds, while he just shrank back like some frightened child. He remembered that feeling, that sickening feeling that he told himself he would never experience again. Jeb stood up straight, and the nerves were gone now. He spat in his interrogator’s face. “Go to Hell.”

  The man let out a long sigh. He stepped closer to Jeb and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder, then pulled out a knife from his jacket and thrust it deep into Jeb’s stomach. The old man’s eyes widened and filled with tears, but a smile crept across his face, and his murderer stepped back, frowning, not understanding the joke. In those few seconds before Jeb’s eyes closed for the last time, he saw his beautiful wife Lydia on their first date. He saw that Sunday afternoon picnic when he proposed. He saw their wedding and the look on his sweetheart’s face. He saw ten thousand happy days in those few seconds, and now he knew he would be joining her again. And what was more, he would step into her waiting arms. What reason was there not to smile?

  The man pulled the knife back out, and Jeb collapsed to the floor. The younger man came up to join him. “Are you okay, TJ?” he asked. For a moment, TJ did not answer, he just looked at the blood dripping blade and the lifeless body in front of him. “TJ?” the man said again.

  TJ broke his confused gaze and looked towards Ian, the only person in this world he could really call a friend. “He was smiling.”

  “Probably gone mad. It’s not like we haven’t seen it before,” Ian replied.

  “I suppose.”

  “Where do you want us to start?”

  “Get the list from the car. Check all the outbuildings, gut the place.”

  “What did he say about the farm up the road?”

  “He was protecting them. They’ll head back eventually, but not while all our vehicles are parked there. Let me have a think; I’ll figure something out.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Robyn and Wren sat with their backs against the cool bark of a giant oak tree. They had not spoken since heading deeper into the woods after making the discovery that their house was being ransacked. They were both dreading going back to see what they had been left with.

  “How long has it been?” Robyn asked.

  “Three hours.”

  “Shall we go take another look?”

  “Probably.”

  “I haven’t heard any engines.”

  “No, me neither, but we’re quite deep, and the breeze has changed direction.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Look. Whatever we have to deal with, we’ll deal with.”

  “I know. But we put so much work into getting that place nice.”

  “And we will again,” Wren said, knowing her words were hollow.

  “Yeah, right.”

  The two sisters climbed to their feet, grabbed their rucksacks and weapons, and started their journey back towards the tree line.

  “We could get Jeb to take us back to Tolsta with the van. There will be stuff in the surrounding houses that we could use. In fact, I bet there’s a load of food in them as well,” Wren said.

  “That’s if they haven’t been there first.”

  They carried on to the edge of the woods without saying another word. A few metres before the meadow, Wren removed her rucksack again, leaned the javelin against the tree, and pulled out the binoculars. She went down on one knee, staying as low as she could, while she scanned the farmyard. She brought the binoculars back down and looked towards her sister. “They’re gone.”

  “For real?”

  “There’s no sign of anyone, and all the cars have gone.”

  “Let’s go back and see the damage then.”

  Wren picked up her belongings, and the pair of them stepped out into the meadow. They felt naked away from the cover of the trees, and with each step they took, dread filled their hearts a little more, and when they arrived at the farmyard, their hearts sank. The gate and gate post had been knocked over, and half the fence was down, all that work, destroyed, and now the house seemed much more vulnerable.

  “Jeb will help us put it back up. It’ll be half a day’s work for him,” Wren said.

  “Stop being so bloody positive. There’s nothing to be positive about.”

  “There is. We’re both still standing, still breathing;
we’ve got our health, and whatever else they might have taken, we’ve got enough food for today and tomorrow,” Wren said, tapping the side of her rucksack. Robyn shook her head, still a little irritated by her sister’s optimism.

  They walked up to the farmhouse door, and Wren paused before opening it. She looked at her sister. “Come on,” Robyn said. Let’s get it over with.

  Wren opened the door, and they stepped in. Their mouths dropped open as they looked around the kitchen. It was like a scene from a disaster movie. All the cupboard doors were open. Crockery was needlessly smashed upon the floor, and all the furniture had been taken. It took them a few seconds to process the scene, but eventually, Wren’s brain caught up with her eyes.

  “Oh no. They’ve taken the range, Bobbi.”

  “Without that, there’s no more hot water. No more heating. Without that, we can’t cook.” She turned towards Wren. “Still feeling positive about everything?”

  “Look I was just—”

  There was a sound from one of the bedrooms, and both sisters froze.

  chapter 3

  “The boss was right. He guessed you’d come back,” said a voice as three armed men emerged from the hallway and into the kitchen. “I think you’d better drop those, don’t you?” He nodded towards the javelin and the bow.

  The girls stood there in shock, unable to process what was happening.

  “TJ, this is Max, over,” said the man hitting the talk button on his radio.

  “This is TJ, go ahead, over.”

  “You were right, boss. They showed up, but there’s just two of them. Real lookers though, over.”

  “Two’s better than nothing. I knew that old man was lying. We’ll rendezvous at Linlithgow caravan park in a couple of hours. Over.”

  “Okay boss. See you then. Over and out,” he said and clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt. “Two hours, lads. I say we test the merchandise before they get bent out of shape in the Fun House. What do you say?” he said, turning to the other men, who laughed and cast leery looks over the two sisters.

  Wren and Robyn stood there as shock gave way to anger. The three men remained in the doorway. None of them considered the girls a threat, so they did not even bother raising their weapons, they merely rested a hand on top of a rifle to remind the young women they were armed and dangerous. “What old man was he talking about?” Wren said as her grip tightened on the javelin.

  “I don’t know. Some codger who he greased. Made up some story about you all being dead. Now I’m not going to tell you again. Drop your—”

  Like a viper, Wren struck. Max was taken completely off guard, and the javelin was through his chest before he could register what was happening. His eyes widened in shock as he looked down to see his own blood dribbling down the shaft of the metal spear.

  “What the f—” an arrow entered the abdomen of the second man, who collapsed to his knees at the same time that Wren whipped the javelin free. Max crumpled backwards onto the third man, who stumbled. He raised his SA80 and fired while attempting to dodge his friend’s falling body. Wren and Robyn both ducked. The report of the gun was deafening in the narrow corridor and only added to his disorientation. The bullets ripped through the plasterboard walls, but none came close to striking the girls. He took his finger off the trigger and steadied himself, but in that split second, the sound of shots was replaced by a whistling, followed by nothing but an eerie silence. He looked beyond the hallway; everything seemed a little dreamlike, a little hazy. One of the girls was pointing an empty bow at him. The other was bent forward with one arm extended out in front of her like a baseball pitcher. They were both looking towards him, but not at his face, at his body. Suddenly a chill ran through him, then the silence in the hallway broke.

  Drip, drip, drip, drip. It sounded like a leaking tap. He tasted copper in his mouth and began to feel woozy, unsteady on his feet. He looked down. Drip, drip, drip, drip. There was an arrow in his chest and a spear sticking out of his abdomen. There was blood all down his front, all over the carpet…and one little stream; one stream that veered off because of the crease in his shirt. That stream met the leather of his belt and drop by drop by drop by drop, it dripped and dripped and dripped and dripped, until...silence.

  The man collapsed backwards like a falling tree, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The girls remained frozen for a few seconds longer then simultaneously let out a long breath.

  Wren walked over to her sister. “Are you okay?”

  Robyn looked at her. “They killed Jeb.”

  “I know, but…”

  “But what?”

  “They were people. That’s the first time we’ve killed people,” Wren said.

  “We killed people who killed Jeb and were about to do god knows what to us.”

  “I know, but it feels different.”

  “Not for me. I’d kill anyone or anything who tried to lay a finger on either of us.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We’ve got a bit more than two hours before they come searching. By that time, we need to be as far away as possible from here.”

  “Leave?”

  “Of course leave. There’s nothing left for us here now.”

  Wren looked around the barren room. She stared at the big space that used to be occupied by the range, and she realised her sister was right. “So where do we go?”

  “I don’t know. We get back on the road, see if we can find somewhere, but it’ll be tough to find anywhere like this place.”

  “But won’t they have trashed everywhere like they trashed this place?”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Wren. You’re the ideas girl. Whatever we do, we need to do it now. I’m going to pack,” Robyn said, navigating her way around the fallen bodies in the hallway to get to her room. Wren took a final look at the devastation and followed her.

  “Oh no,” Wren said as she stepped into her room. She rushed across to Robyn’s room.

  “They’ve taken everything.”

  “I suppose it’s all got value now. They aren’t making anything new, so everything can be used for barter.”

  “They even stole the picture of you, me, Mum and Dad,” Robyn said as her eyes glazed with tears.

  Wren took hold of her, and the pair squeezed tightly. “C’mon then, let’s fill our water bottles and get out of here.”

  “All our clothes, the arrows, everything,” Robyn said still in a state of disbelief.

  “Okay, listen, we’ve got three quivers of arrows still; I’ve got all my crossbow bolts, we’ve got the javelin, we’ve got a bit of food…we can do this.”

  “Don’t!”

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t start with all that positivity shit again. I can’t take it at the moment,” Robyn said, rubbing the tears from her face.

  “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying, it’s not as bad as it could be.”

  “Ha! You’re mental. There’s something wrong with you, y’know that?”

  “I think I know where we can go.” Robyn didn’t respond; she filled her water bottle. “I think we should head to Tolsta.”

  “You’re crazy,” Robyn replied. “I’m not going back to that place! Why would we ever think about going back there? It’s a shell; there’s nothing left of it. And what’s to say that they won’t head that way?”

  Wren took out her own water bottle and filled it. “Firstly, they said they were going to meet at Linlithgow caravan park. That means they’re heading west. Secondly, yes, the main street has been destroyed, but there were some houses dotted around that might make good places to lie low for the time being. Every time we’ve been there, we’ve been in a bit of a rush to get out, so we never checked them.” Wren finished filling her bottle and placed it in her rucksack. She walked over to the dead men, removed the arrows from their bodies, then retrieved her javelin. She rinsed the arrows clean under the tap and dried them off on the curtains before placing them in one of the quivers still st
rapped to Robyn’s shoulder.

  “I suppose it’s safer than most places. I mean, at least we know the residents are all dead now. But it’s going to stink with all those bodies.”

  “Yeah well, the bodies are pretty much all in one place. We’ll make sure we find somewhere out of stinking distance.” Wren went to the fridge. “God, they really did take everything.”

  “C’mon then. The more distance we can put between them and us, the better.”

  “Hang on a minute,” Wren said, heading back over to the bodies. She started frisking them and found a couple of knives and a packet of mints. She unhooked the walkie-talkie, then started undoing the laces from the three men’s boots.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “We’ve got one pair of boots each now. What happens when the laces go? And don’t you think it would be useful to be able to hear what these guys are up to?”

  “I suppose…” Robyn said, reluctantly.

  “Shall we take the guns?”

  “Do you know how to fire a gun?”

  “No.”

  “So we’d need to practice. How many bullets are there?”

  “I don’t know,” Wren replied.

  “Guns are noisy, too. By the time we’d finally managed to hit our first target, probably every zombie in hearing distance would have found us.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Still...they look pretty cool, don’t they? I bet they’d be good for trade.”

  “Who the hell are we going to trade with?” Robyn demanded.

  “Nobody right now, but you never know in the future.”

  “So we’ll just lug around three heavy guns and a few bullets on the off chance we meet someone to trade with? Brilliant idea. I tell you what, why don’t we take the fridge freezer too? Yeah, there’s no electricity any more, but you never know, we might run into someone with their own wind turbine. You take one end, I’ll get the other.”

  “Why are you always such a bitch?”

  “Why do you come up with such child-like ideas? Newsflash, sister dearest, this isn’t one of your little fairytales where everything goes to hell, and mankind starts from scratch building some perfect dystopia.”