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

by Artinian, Christopher

  Elizabeth checked in the mirror to look at the other creatures. Two were down, while the other two were in slow pursuit on legs that had been deformed by the collision. The windscreen beast began to scramble to its feet, and without prompting, Elizabeth engaged first gear, and gently placed her foot on the gas pedal. She moved into second, swerving the car a little and smashing the beast into another parked vehicle before straightening up the wheel and moving up to third.

  More comfortable now, she looked again in the rearview mirror to see all the creatures in various states of disablement, before moving up into fourth gear. She slowed a tad less severely as she reached the junction then turned left before immediately turning right once again to join the main road. For the time being, the screaming had stopped, and all anybody heard was the sound of the engine as it roared up the road.

  Beasts emerged from side streets, eager to locate the source of the noise, and more than a few began pursuit as the Mondeo sped past them, but it was merely a matter of a few seconds before they became nothing but small dots in the mirrors.

  As the houses and signs of population gradually became less and less, the tension in the vehicle dissipated further. “You did really well, Lizzy. Way to hold your nerve,” Wren said. She looked in the mirror to see Elizabeth’s face still concentrating on the road in front of her before her eyes cast a glance towards Wren’s and a smile formed on her lips like that of a child getting praise from a generally disapproving parent.

  Elizabeth let out a breath. “I’m sorry it was a bumpy ride,” she said, navigating a bend and speeding up even more as the road widened. “I’ve never had to do anything like that before.”

  “You mean killing zombies wasn’t part of your driving test when you did it? Lizzy, you must be ancient,” Robyn said, and Elizabeth laughed. “You did great. You got us all out safely. Thank you.”

  “Erm, we’re not out of the woods yet, I’m afraid.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” Wren asked.

  “The petrol light came on more or less as soon as we set off. We’re not going very far without a refill.”

  Wren leaned forward in her seat to look over Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Oh, crap!”

  “Well, we’ll just keep going as long as we can, see what we come across,” Robyn said.

  “I don’t think there’s much,” Susan replied. “All this area is pretty rural.”

  “Okay. Rural’s good. Rural means not many people. Not many people means not many zombies. That’s good news,” Wren replied.

  “It’s not good news when we’re trying to get to Aberfeldy. If we don’t have transport, it will take us forever, and it will mean we’re back out there in the open,” Elizabeth replied.

  “Don’t worry, Lizzy. Something will come along,” Wren said, desperately trying to remain positive. She could just about manage to stay upbeat when Robyn was all doom and gloom, but it would be tough if the others lost heart too.

  They drove along in silence for well over fifteen minutes; the road had narrowed, becoming a one-track country lane. They passed a few beasts, but nothing that had interfered with their journey. The Mondeo had sped through a small, eerily quiet village and travelled at least five miles further before engine began to cough. Robyn shot Wren a knowing look as the car started to slow down, finally coming to a stop. Elizabeth used the remaining momentum of the vehicle to pull it in to the side of the road before engaging the handbrake and turning the key to the off position. She put a motherly hand on Matthew’s leg then turned around to look at Ruth. “Looks like we’re going for a little walk,” she said, trying to smile.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “Well, on the upside, can you imagine if it was still raining like it was last night?” Wren said, as they trailed along the narrow country lane. The others cast scowls in her direction.

  “I’m begging you, please, for the love of all that is holy, no glass half full crap,” Robyn said.

  Wren smiled. “After the twenty-four hours we’ve just had, I’m happy to be here, walking and breathing. I just think that’s pretty cool.”

  “Wren is right,” Elizabeth said, looking down at Ruth and then at the others. “We should be thankful that we are here.”

  “I’m hungry, Mummy,” Ruth said.

  “We’ll stop and eat soon,” she replied.

  “How about we stop and eat now?” Wren said, beaming. “Look over there.”

  They all looked to where she was pointing. “Strawberries? Are they strawberries?” Robyn said, her face lighting up.

  “I’d forgotten about this place,” Susan said. My dad used to bring us all when we were young. We’d practically live on strawberries the whole week.”

  “I could live on strawberries,” Robyn said with an excited glint in her eye. The group carried on walking until they reached a track that led them towards the strawberry fields. There was a quaint hut filled with cardboard punnets of different sizes, and Robyn broke open the rickety door, handing out the picking boxes to the rest of the group. They passed another sign saying “ALL OUR STRAWBERRIES ARE ORGANICALLY GROWN!” They split off into two groups; Wren, Robyn and Susan filled their punnets in no time, then sat down on the soft earth and plucked more succulent red fruit to snack on.

  “I’d forgotten how good these tasted,” Susan said. “They’re always so much better when you pick your own.”

  Wren sat there with a wide grin on her face as she watched juice run down Robyn’s chin. “What are you so happy about?” Robyn asked, and they all watched as a succulent piece of strawberry flew from her mouth and landed in front of Wren.

  The three girls laughed. “You are such a pig,” Wren replied. “But it’s good to see you enjoying yourself.”

  “Okay. Point taken. Maybe things are better than they could be,” Robyn said.

  “I didn’t think any of us would get through that storm,” Susan said, and they all drifted into their own thoughts for a little while.

  “Erm...don’t take this the wrong way,” Robyn said, “but you don’t seem like the rest of the ‘howl at the moon, praise be fruit cakes’ who were at the monastery.”

  “I was, for a little while. What Adam said really made a lot of sense, and he seemed like a good man, but after the first few months…” Susan shifted uncomfortably. “He said I wasn’t like the others, that I was special and he would like to give me private study.”

  “The ‘old private study’ gem,” Robyn said, placing another big strawberry in her mouth.

  “Shh!” Wren said.

  “Robyn’s right. I was naive...well, I was stupid. I don’t need to tell you what happened.”

  “And what about Lizzy?” Wren asked, quickly checking to make sure they were out of earshot of the others.

  “What about her?” Susan said.

  “Did she know?”

  “She knew. She knew about a lot of the stuff that went on there. Problem was, it was a cult. And there were some pretty scary people there who were devoted to Adam. Nobody could speak out. Nobody could do anything. I think Elizabeth was just as much a victim as I was, just in different ways.”

  “Did you not think about going to the police?” Wren asked.

  “And saying what? At first, I was so excited to be getting special treatment. I didn’t see anything wrong in it. I didn’t see it for what it was. It was like being a teenager sleeping with my favourite movie star. But as time went on, he started to show his true self. He was not a prophet; he was not a man of god, or even a man of good. He was a scam artist. A deviant. He was…” tears appeared in her eyes and words left her.

  Robyn placed a comforting hand over Susan’s. “It’s okay,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault, and it’s over now.”

  A weak smile crept onto Susan’s face. She cleared her throat and placed her other hand over Robyn’s. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She looked into Robyn’s eyes, and for a split second, she thought she saw something there that went beyond mere kindness.

  ✽ ✽ ✽
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  Ruth was happier than she had been in some time as she and Melissa collected strawberries together. They would occasionally treat themselves to a bite of one that looked particularly succulent, but this was something normal, something pleasant that they could use as a small anchor while they found their bearings in the turmoil around them. Elizabeth and Matthew were stood a few metres further down, out of earshot.

  “I’m telling you, we need to get away from these people as soon as we can,” Matthew said.

  “They got us here,” Elizabeth said.

  “No. You got us here.”

  “So, we just leave them and head to Susan’s parents?” Elizabeth said, horrified.

  “They take too many risks, and they think they run things. They think they can do what they want. Think about Ruth, Mum,” he said, pointing down the row of bushes to his sister and Melissa.

  Elizabeth looked at her, then her eyes drifted back to her son. “I don’t understand why you dislike them so much.”

  “I keep telling you, they’re not good people.”

  “And we would be ‘good people,’ leaving them in the middle of nowhere?”

  “You have never had faith in me. You have never trusted my judgement.”

  “That’s not true, Matthew. I am incredibly proud. You have grown into a fine young man.”

  “Then trust me now.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “What’s with Matthew? He doesn’t seem anything like Elizabeth,” Robyn said.

  “Matthew was full of his own self-importance,” Susan began, “the son of the prophet. On the one hand, he did not get the attention he craved from Adam, and was fearful of him. On the other hand, he walked around like he was second in command. That’s why you’re grating on him so much. Back there, people had a kind of reverence for the son of Adam, and he could not put a foot wrong. Out here, he’s just a scared boy.”

  “Boy?” Robyn said.

  “Well, he’s eighteen, but he behaves like a boy. And, well, he needs to prove himself to Melissa.”

  Robyn and Wren looked at each other. “Elizabeth will keep him in his place,” Wren said.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Susan replied.

  Susan looked around to make sure they had not been re-joined by any of the others. “Look, I was on the verge of leaving that place. I was going to wait for the right time and make a run for it. Get back home.”

  “What do you mean? Surely you were free to go any time you wanted?” Wren said.

  “When you join, you give everything you own to Adam and the Church. Your money and all your possessions. You become dependent on them. I would have had to leave with the clothes on my back and…”

  “And what?” Wren asked.

  “There were others who had tried to leave, but they’d been brought back.”

  “Brought back?” Wren said.

  “Remember! It was a cult.”

  “Yeah but, where would the benefit be of keeping someone against their will?” Wren asked.

  “Imagine having two hundred workers, and all you had to give them was food, a roof, and a story.”

  “I still don’t understand,” Robyn said.

  “We had a kiln there, we made lots of earthenware. We had very talented artists. We had people who could make the most beautiful handbags and wallets and gifts. Once—” she broke off to look around again. “Once me and another girl had to hand stitch labels onto over a hundred bags. They said ‘Harris Tweed’ on them,” she said, wide-eyed.

  “I don’t get it,” Robyn said.

  “Authentic Harris Tweed comes from the Outer Hebrides. It’s expensive…it sounds like ‘the Saviour’ was running a bootlegging operation,” Wren said.

  “That’s right,” Susan replied, “and I’m pretty certain that was just the tip of the iceberg. So there was a lot of incentive to keep people there once they arrived.”

  “I understand now. Shit. That must have been horrible. You must have felt totally trapped,” Robyn said.

  “I was, but it was of my own doing, too,” Susan said.

  “You’re out of it now, that’s all in the past. You’re with us,” Robyn said, smiling warmly.

  Susan reciprocated the smile. “I don’t think I have the words to tell you how good that feels. Even with all this going on.”

  “And Lizzy? You think she was a part of it all,” Robyn asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how much she knew, but I do know…” she trailed off not sure whether she should trust her newly found friends.

  “What? You can tell us,” Wren said.

  “There’s something very wrong with these people.”

  chapter 22

  It was early afternoon when they took to the road again, and the sun was beating down hard, but the cover from the trees lining the lane protected them from the worst of it.

  They had not been travelling long when they reached a road sign. Dalbaig - 2. “Okay,” Wren said. “Keep your eyes peeled. If there’s a village up ahead, that means houses, houses mean people, and people mean—” she looked down at Ruth and immediately stopped. “Just keep your wits about you.”

  They all clutched their weapons a little tighter as they continued along the road. Every time they came to a bend, they held their breath until the road straightened again showing a clear path ahead. The group had been walking for fifteen minutes when they found a pub named the Haunted Inn. They stood at the entrance of the car park, looking towards the old white building. Ivy grew up the sides, and blackboards clung to the walls advertising bed and breakfast facilities, hot and cold meals as well as live entertainment every weekend. Another sign proudly displayed a newspaper article behind a frame. A Volkswagen Golf was parked at the side of the building, near the back.

  “Well, it might be a tight fit, but at least it’s transport,” Wren said.

  They began to walk through the car park, and, reaching the pub building, tried to look through the windows to the dim interior, but saw no sign of life. Wren looked at the newspaper article. “It says this is one of the most haunted pubs in Britain.”

  “Of course it is,” Robyn said. “Why would it be anything else? I mean, it’s not like we’ve experienced anything scary in the last twenty-four hours. It will do us good to get our hearts racing.”

  “Don’t be daft. There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Wren replied.

  “Yeah, right.” Robyn tried the doors which were firmly locked. “I’ll head around the back,” she said.

  “I’ll come with you,” Susan replied, gripping onto her wooden spear. Susan tried the back door, but it was locked too.

  “Okay, we do this the old-fashioned way,” Robyn said, smashing the side window to the little porch with a decorative planter. Soil and compost went everywhere as both the glass and the plant pot broke apart. She reached in and turned the key before pushing the wooden door open. “Get ready with that, just in case,” she said, nodding towards the spear as the heavy iron hinges creaked open.

  Robyn plucked an arrow from one of the quivers and lined it up ready as the door swung inwards, revealing a second closed door. Wren and the others joined them, but seeing nobody was willing to enter and open the internal door, Wren walked into the tight vestibule, crouched down, and with her javelin at the ready, pulled on the handle.

  It too creaked open slowly, as if it was indeed the entrance to a haunted house at a funfair. Beyond it lay the dim interior of the old building. “What’s that?” Wren asked, peering into the darkness. “It looks like the floor’s mov—Aaarrrghhh! Rats!” She leapt out into the open and everyone else jumped back, too, screaming hysterically, as dozens of brown creatures, some the size of small cats, burst through the exit and shot towards the surrounding woodland like a giant, hairy, carpet flying past them.

  “Okay,” Robyn said, “I think I just shat myself.”

  Susan burst out laughing. “You are so funny,” she said.

  As horrified as they all were, there was a part of them that was reliev
ed too. They were expecting creatures, but much more fearsome than the ones that had emerged. Ruth had her head buried into Elizabeth’s shoulder as tears desperately tried to wash away the image that had burned into her eyes. “It’s alright, Ruthie, it’s alright,” Elizabeth cooed, hugging her child tightly.

  Melissa had her hand clasped around Matthew’s tight enough to cut off both their circulations and Susan, without realising it, was clutching onto the sleeve of Robyn’s leather jacket.

  “Well, today’s just a day that keeps on giving,” Wren said, walking back through the door.

  The others followed, the smell of rodent faeces, making them all gag as their eyes got used to the light. They were not more than a few paces in, when they heard agitated footsteps bounding across the carpeted floorboards above them. They appeared to be confined to one area, and Robyn stood beneath it looking up. “It’s probably trapped in a room,” she said.

  “Let’s make sure there’s nothing waiting for us down here before we head up there,” Wren said. They split up, and those with torches flicked them on as they checked the ground floor of the pub for unwanted patrons.

  “All clear,” Robyn said, emerging from the toilets before they headed out into a hallway. At the end of it, just before the staircase, was a tidy reception desk. On it was a computer and printer and a small, printed Bed and Breakfast tariff sheet in a photo frame. Wren tried to open the top drawer, but it was locked. “Can I borrow that a second?” She said to Matthew, looking at the crowbar. He handed it to her, and she immediately jammed it into the narrow gap between the drawer and its housing then pulled down hard. There was a sharp snap as the wood splintered; she pulled the drawer open and took out a bag of keys. “Thanks,” she said, handing the crowbar back to him.

  They began to climb the stairs, turning off the torches as suddenly, an abundance of light came in through a tall window halfway up the landing. As they walked past, they each took in the spectacular view as it stretched beyond a thin line of trees to a shimmering pond where ducks and geese swam, oblivious to the cataclysmic events that had unfolded.