by Ryan Casey
And before the woman had a chance to ask me for anything, I turned away from her and I walked.
I had to think about myself now.
I had to think about my family now.
Because they were all that mattered.
Chapter Eight
Bill Smith heard his wife’s cry right from the other side of the store and he knew he had to give up everything to go check she was okay.
Lydia was the love of his life. He’d met her when he was in high school. Like most girls, Bill never thought he stood a chance with her. She was way too attractive for him. They all were. And at first, his suspicions had been confirmed, really. She’d either ignored him, or when the pair of them did happen to speak, she’d just tease him about his weight or one of the many other things people teased him about.
But they’d got to know each other. They started meeting outside of school. In the beginning, they’d become good friends, but then that good friendship developed into something more.
Before they knew it, they were together.
That was thirty years ago.
They were still going strong.
He’d stood by Lydia’s side as she battled with some difficulties. The death of her mother. Her health issues. He knew what Lydia’s cry sounded like.
When he turned the corner of the store, which was in meltdown, he saw her crouching by the side of the shelves holding her bleeding head.
He felt a mixture of emotions when he saw her. Partly relief that she was awake and conscious. Partly an urge to go over there, hug her, comfort her.
But more than anything, he felt anger.
Anger at whoever had caused this to happen.
Anger at whoever had done this to his beloved wife.
“It’s okay,” Bill said, walking over to her. He put a hand around her back, pulled her close. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
“I just… The water,” she said. “I tried to hold the water and I guess I slipped.”
Bill nodded. At least nobody had done this directly to his wife. Just a big mistake. A big mix-up. That was enough to recede the anger somewhat. “Tensions are flaring in here,” he said. “I think we’re going to have to move on to somewhere else.”
“There was a man,” she said.
Bill frowned. “A man?”
“He had—had this rucksack. Looked packed with stuff. He looked like he knew what he was doing. I was going to ask him for some help and some advice, but he…”
“He what?”
“He just looked at me and walked away.”
Anger filled Bill’s body again. He felt tension creeping right the way up the back of his neck. Someone had the opportunity to help his wife and they’d ignored her. They’d left her here, bleeding out.
Someone who looked like they were capable of helping.
“Where did he go?” Bill asked.
Lydia lifted a shaky hand and pointed right outside. “He just walked out the main door. He… he can’t be too far away. He…”
All of Lydia’s words blurred into the background, then.
Bill rose to his feet.
He could see the tall, slender man with the black rucksack over his back, walking away shiftily.
He could see exactly where he was.
“Don’t worry,” Bill said, offering a hand to Lydia.
She took it, and he helped her to her feet.
Then he stood there and watched the man edge slightly further away.
He cracked his knuckles.
“I know exactly how to make that man apologise for what he did.”
Chapter Nine
Once I got outside the supermarket, I knew I couldn’t afford to look back.
The clouds had filled the sky, covering the sun. There were still remnants of that aurora that I had seen not long ago, but it had faded. Or perhaps it was just me getting used to it. It was hard to say.
Now wasn’t the time for musing about the state of the sky.
Now was the time for getting away from here with my supplies while I had the opportunity.
I saw the mass of cars all stuck in the car park. I saw people still trying to persevere with them, still trying to get them going. I saw the road ahead of the supermarket filled with stationary vehicles. I knew there were likely so many that had been abandoned already, but there would also be so many that were still occupied, too.
Some of them by the living.
Some, if the electrical surge was as widespread as I expected it was, by the dead.
I took a deep breath as I walked out into the car park. That smell of rain on a warm day soothed me. It reminded me of the first time Sarah and I had gone on holiday, a camping trip to the Lake District which was an absolute washout.
We’d moaned about the weather at the time. We’d cursed it, said we were never going camping again.
And yet looking back, what I’d give for a camping holiday with Sarah in the rain right now, Bobby by our side.
What I’d give for that semblance of normality in this rapidly maddening world.
I swallowed a sickly lump in my dry throat. I had a little hunger in my stomach, but I knew I couldn’t be greedy. I didn’t know how long my journey to my family was going to take yet. I needed to plan it for starters. So far, I’d done a lot of aimless wandering just outside Ellesmere Port that I was only vaguely familiar with due to working so close to it. My commute home north of Preston usually took around an hour and a half on a good traffic day. I could interpret that as a solid day’s walk, but I had to account for the inevitable roadblocks that would come in my way.
No. This wasn’t something I could do blindly. I needed to be certain about where I was going. I needed to find the best routes off the beaten track. It was suicide wandering down busy roads and through towns with the kinds of supplies I had. And I certainly couldn’t even contemplate crossing the River Mersey. It was suicide anyway, especially if people were losing control just as quickly as they seemed to be.
I had to orient myself, first. Then I had to plot my route.
I walked further through the car park, keeping my head down. I saw one man totally unconscious, his hand pretty much stuck to his car boot. Must’ve been caught by the electric surge somehow. I could smell him already, and it made my stomach turn with the craziness, the lack of reality, of it all.
There were ways to orient myself. I knew a method of making a compass from scratch. There were a few ways. The easiest simply required a magnet. You take the magnet, touch the south pole of the magnet to the point of your needle, then touch the north to the eye of the needle. Get a leaf, place the needle onto it. Then put it on a puddle of water.
But that required a magnet of course, and not everyone had a magnet when they were in the middle of nowhere. So another more drawn out method was to put a stick into the ground where a shadow will be cast. The first mark the shadow makes is always in the west, so put a stone there to mark it. Wait a while, then make another marker of the new tip of the shadow.
After that, you draw a line through the two marks, stand with the first mark to your left, and quite simply you’ll have the north to your front, south behind you and the east on your right.
Handy things to know. Good little tricks I’d learned.
But right now I needed something more elaborate. Something more…
I heard a smash directly to my right.
When I turned, my stomach sank.
There was a group of three hooded thugs gathered around a car. They were dragging supplies off the back seat, spilling loads of cartons of fruit juice onto the ground. Inside the car, I saw an older man. He was just letting them take it all, not wanting to get into any kind of conflict.
Again, that desire to help kicked in. But then the rucksack… If these thugs saw what I had, they’d take that too, and then it’d be right back to square one.
Not only that but I was outnumbered. There was nothing I could do against this kind of group.
It was better to just… l
et nature take its course.
Even the thought left a bitter taste in my mouth. But it was what it was.
I watched as the thugs gathered what they deemed worthy then took off, leaving a whole host of things scattered on the ground around the car. The thugs wouldn’t last long. They might be going for the hard act now, but in truth, they’d be the first to go begging for some intervention when everything went to shit. They might be tough in the old world, but they’d be weak in the new world. So weak.
Poetic justice, in a way.
Just a pity so many people would have to suffer at their hands as the journey towards their bitter ends powered on.
When I went to stand, something caught my eye.
In the vacant car beside me, I saw an A-Z map on the passenger seat.
An idea filled my head. An A-Z. Detailed. Accurate.
I could use the A-Z to plot my journey.
I looked around. There were people about, but not too many—at least none paying attention. And there certainly didn’t seem to be anyone paying any attention to this car.
At first, I went to reach for the handle. But then I realised it would be a pointless pursuit anyway.
I wanted this A-Z.
I’d just tarnished all “looters” with the negative brush.
But if I wanted—needed—something enough… I knew I was going to have to take it.
I grabbed a heavy rock from beside the road. I walked back to the side of the car with the A-Z. Took another look around. All clear. Everything clear.
Then when I was sure I was absolutely secure in what I was doing, I pulled back that rock and I smashed it through the passenger window.
Part of me expected an alarm to sound, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t possible. Not anymore.
Once the glass smashed away, I knew my time was limited. I knew my catch was close.
I reached in. Grabbed the A-Z. And as I held it in my hands I felt a lightness fill my body.
I was doing this.
I was getting away from this place.
I was finding my family.
I was—
“Hey.”
I froze. Goose pimples spread up my neck.
They couldn’t be speaking to me.
That couldn’t happen.
I turned around slowly, hoping it was just a trick of the mind, or that it was someone addressing someone else.
But when I turned, my worst fears were realised.
A man was standing there staring at me intently. He was tall, bald, and incredibly bulky.
His wife was by his side.
“I believe you’re stealing my stuff,” the man said. “And I believe you ignored my wife when she needed help, too.”
He glanced at my rucksack and cracked his knuckles.
“How ever are we gonna resolve that, hmm?”
Chapter Ten
I looked at the enormous man standing opposite me and I wished I’d stuck to my running regimen.
There was a car to my right, and a car to my left. Behind me, more cars. Even if I tried to run, I had no real confidence I’d be able to get away.
Not with the beast standing opposite me.
Not with the anger and the madness in his eyes.
“You ignored my wife. Do you remember her, hmm? Or do the people you ignore just blend together into the background?”
I looked at the woman and I felt a mass of guilt building inside. Of course I recognised her now. It was the woman who had fallen and hit the shelf back in the supermarket. She was bleeding from her head quite badly, and the colour had drained from her face.
I looked into her eyes and wished for some kind of mercy. She’d seen the kind of situation we’d both been in back inside there. It was chaotic. Manic. I had to appeal to her better nature, somehow.
“I—”
“No you had your chance to speak,” the man said, stepping further forward. I could smell the sweat on his body, pungent in my nostrils. “You had your opportunity, but you chose to ignore my wife instead. You chose to walk away. You don’t get a second chance.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. I hadn’t been fearful exactly, not at first. But now… yeah. I couldn’t deny the apprehension I was experiencing.
“But it’s not just the ignoring my wife that bugs me. It’s the fact you’ve ruined my car. You’ve taken my A-Z.”
“I didn’t know—”
“You knew it wasn’t yours. So hey. We’re going to have to figure out a suitable repayment, aren’t we?”
I lowered my head and looked at the ground. I couldn’t give up my supplies. I’d worked for them.
“I… I can’t give you this stuff. I need it to get back to—”
“I don’t care what you need,” the man said. “I care that you stole from me. You had an opportunity to help and you decided not to. You’re exactly the kind of person who is going to drag this world down if the power doesn’t come back on, God forbid. But you’re the kind of person who won’t survive. Because you don’t help others. You’re more worried about yourself and the problems you have going on. You don’t have time for a single person else. I can see it in your eyes. You give the world a bad name. And you’re going to give me back my A-Z and give me those supplies there.”
I kept my head lowered. I had to keep appealing. I had to make these people realise that I wasn’t the monster they thought I was.
“I have a wife and a son. They’re back home and… and I don’t know how they are doing. I don’t even know if they’re still alive, or whether the electricity got to them. They were on the phone to me when it happened. I just…”
I swallowed a lump in my throat and looked the man in his eyes.
“I can’t give you all my stuff. But maybe… maybe we can figure something out.”
I saw the man look at his wife.
Then, they both looked back at me.
“Good sob story,” the man said. “But you had your chance to figure things out. You’re only saying this now because you’re afraid. And so you should be.”
He walked another few steps towards me and I knew I was screwed.
I knew the sympathy card wasn’t working. I clearly couldn’t appeal to this guy’s better nature. I needed another approach.
I tightened my grip on the rucksack and stared the man right in his eyes. “This stuff is mine. You had your opportunity to get your own. You missed that opportunity. You don’t know what I’ve got in here. You don’t know what I could do with it, or what I’m willing to do with it. So back off. Now.”
The man stopped for a second. And I wondered whether maybe that was it. Maybe I’d finally got to him.
But then a smile broke across his face. “Whatever happened to good old-fashioned diplomacy?”
What happened next I couldn’t have prepared for.
I felt a sharp pain crush my stomach.
I fell forward, then felt another crack against my head.
And before I even realised what was happening to me, I was already on the floor taking kick after kick after kick.
I tried to clench my teeth together, tried to resist the pain, but it was impossible. I tried to writhe my way out of this situation, but it just wasn’t happening. I tried to get to my feet, or to fight back, or to anything… but nothing was working.
So I lay there and I took my beating as the taste of blood filled my mouth.
I wasn’t sure how long the beating lasted. I wasn’t sure whether I drifted in and out of consciousness or not. But all I knew was that when it stopped, the rucksack wasn’t on my back anymore.
I looked up at the man through my blurred eyes. He had the rucksack on my back.
“You can keep this map,” he said, tossing it down to the ground in front of me, crumpled and bent. “Good luck, matey. You’re going to need it.”
He walked away then, his wife’s hand in his.
I tried to call out to them. Tried to appeal to their better nature once again. Tried to tell th
em that I wasn’t a monster. I was just a man. I was just a man doing what he thought was necessary to survive.
But before I could even get a sound out, the man and the woman were gone.
I was alone in the car park.
Alone without supplies.
Alone and wounded.
Alone.
Chapter Eleven
After some time, I managed to drag myself over to the trees at the side of the car park.
It was afternoon now. I could tell because the sun was roughly in the middle of the sky. Wow. A matter of hours had passed already, and where had I managed to get myself?
Beaten up.
Robbed of my supplies.
Alone and stranded.
I felt a few specks of rain fall between the leaves of the trees, which sheltered me from the bulk of the storm. The chaos that had begun to unfold in the supermarket earlier had reached a fever pitch. Let’s put it this way: it was a good job I’d got there when I had, even if I had basically got nothing from the situation.
Well. Nothing other than an A-Z.
I listened to the shouts as the chaos built inside and outside the supermarket. A police force had arrived and was dragging people out of the shops, taking them away to unknown places. I figured they were acting under the guise of the law, but I could see what they were really doing. They were just trying to get more supplies for themselves. After all, they were just as lost in this world as everyone else. They were just using the badge and the uniform to transmute an idea of authority. But that idea was thinning rapidly.
Regardless, as I swallowed a bloody lump in my throat, there was no point going back to the supermarket now. I might be able to grab a few things, but it wouldn’t be worth the risk the venture posed to me. I’d had my opportunity earlier. I’d taken that opportunity.
But… no. Everything had all fallen apart.
And could I blame anyone other than myself? Really?
I looked at the A-Z. I’d had an opportunity when I was back in that supermarket. I’d had a chance to help that woman when she fell and hit her head. I had no doubt that she was just doing her best to get by. Her husband, he might’ve given me a beating, but I had to see how it looked from his perspective.
