Aftermath: The Complete Collection (Books 1 & 2)

by John Wilkinson

  5/11/2027 - Time 22:00

  We have just set up camp for our first night on the road after making excellent progress this afternoon. At around two o’clock we were all packed and ready to leave, we gathered around the brothers’ truck to say our good-byes, a moment of humanity amongst the madness. Even though we hadn’t know each other that long, it was hard splitting the group up, we had come to depend on each other so much, there were tears from everyone. We watched them set off, the eerie silence disturbed by their noisy diesel engine, smoke pumping out of the exhaust, filtering into the ash sky. A few moments later they were gone, out of sight, and only a faint hum remained. We were both dressed in the warmest clothes we could scavenge, large winter coats, jeans and boots with our rucksacks over both arms, fastened at the waist. Roy had a rain hood as part of his jacket, with a rusty pan dangling from one of his rucksack straps, I constructed mine from pieces of spare plastic. On the outside of my rucksack, I made an attachment to hang my crowbar on, using the safety straps, by wrapping them around each other and tightening them. The weather was cold and blustery, with rain and snow on the ground. In the sky, stray black flakes tumbled down to earth. We set off at a quick pace finding the M6 within the first hour by following the M65 towards Preston where they join, as we approached, our surroundings became more built up than rural, which worried me. I felt we were more likely to find unwanted attention, but in reality, we could find it anywhere. I expected to find the River Ribble, helping with my coordination, but strangely we never saw it. The M6 came into view through the ash and mist, a huge concrete bridge blending into the distance to our left and right. We followed it to the right, positioning ourselves around a field away, close enough to follow it but far enough away to remain hidden. The fields were frozen hard, with a layer of ash and dust blowing around on the top, it was undisturbed like it hadn’t seen feet for months. The walk was hard on us, after a few hours my fingers and toes had gone numb, the snow started to come down hard, the scene resembled an old black and white Christmas card. We trudged alongside the hedgerow, keeping our eyes out for any movement, but we saw nothing. I had taken to looking at the floor as I walked, only a few metres in front, the wind was too harsh to look into directly. I thought I could see faint marks appearing in the snow around me and pointed them out to Roy. The further we walked, the more defined they became, they looked like footprints, I figured two children, maybe three, and an adult. The shoe prints stayed quite uniform only now and then straying from the path. The motorway started to lift away from us to our left, a bridge took it into the sky as the field started a steep incline, I couldn’t see the top as it blended into the muggy sky. The smaller shoe prints disappeared, replaced by a large flat drag mark. Shielded from the wind by the steep hill, we headed up the field, reaching the top where the cold blustery wind met our faces again. Some distance ahead, barely visible, were what looked like silhouettes. Too far away to make out, they were walking in the same direction as us, so we followed behind them. After a while it became clear we would have to go past them if we wanted to make any more ground before dark, they were walking very slowly, and clearly struggling. By that point we were close enough to see them, there was a man holding one child with two walking by his side, as we got nearer, the child being carried must have alerted the man to our presence, he turned around briskly, moving the children behind his back with his hands. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t mean to startle you,’ I said, trying to reassure him. ‘We mean you no harm.’ The man facing us was very tired looking, with a dirty face and beard, his long greying hair was matted to his head. His clothes look like some kind of uniform, probably worn the morning of the attack, they were stained and sodden. He had a big piece of lino on his back like a cape, fastened by a belt. The children were just as dirty and hungry looking, their little faces peered around his side as he tried to keep them hidden. There were two boys and a girl, she was dressed in newer looking boys clothes, her hair crudely cut off by a worried parent. All three were filthy, ‘When was the last time you all ate?’ I asked.

  ‘A few days ago’ he replied.

  ‘Are these your children?’

  ‘Yeah, they are my boys.’

  ‘Where’s their mum?’

  ‘She’s no longer around, she, she left.’

  ‘Was she taken?’ Roy interrupted.

  ‘She left’ he reiterated.

  ‘Here, we have some food’ I said, taking my bag off my shoulder. ‘Give your children some food and water.’ I opened a couple of tins of fruit and corn beef and handed them to him, with a bottle of water. He stood looking at me, like he’d not witnessed generosity for some time, he thanked me, and I continued. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the coast, to the camp.’

  ‘Does it exists?’ Roy asked.

  ‘I don’t know, but I’ve got to hope, what can I do for my children if it doesn’t? How can I protect them? I have only got to this point due to a determination to not leave them to fend for themselves.’ His children looked scared, like they had witnessed things they couldn’t forget, their father had to keep reminding them to eat, they just stood there shaking. I asked him where they had come from, he replied ‘Bedford, a small town sixty miles from London.’ As they ate, he told me their story. ‘My wife and I owned a small café on Bedford High street, it had been just another morning, the sun was out and it looked like it was going to be another busy day. Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and we and went outside to investigate, there were two huge mushroom clouds hanging over London. We jumped into my car and headed towards the school, I put the radio on, but there was nothing but static. When we got to the school it was mad, parents and children were just running around, there was no order, everyone was panicking, children crying. We found our children by luck more than anything and left, by the time we got outside, we could see the mushroom clouds were eating up the sky, heading towards us. They had been joined in the sky by another black cloud in a north west direction, I assumed Birmingham. You might think there is no way of seeing something that far away but they were enormous, like a mountain, getting higher and wider with every minute. My first thought was of heading into the countryside, thinking we would be safe, but nowhere is safe. We ended up heading towards the coast, I just need to find somewhere for my children, where I can keep them safe.’ I asked him how long they had been travelling, he told me since the day the bombs dropped.‘When we got the kids, we tried to escape by car, but the roads were gridlocked, so we continued on foot, heading towards the north east.’ He confirmed the coast was warmer but suffered from ferocious storms.

  ‘We had to move further inland, my children just couldn’t handle it, it terrified them. Hopefully there will be more children at the camp.’ I didn’t push him about his wife, they had clearly lost her at some point after the initial nuclear attack.

  We left the family to eat their meal, and tried to squeeze a few more hours walking in before the darkness came, we made good progress for a further couple of hours through the snowy fields. In one we found an abandoned tractor and plough, the farmer had been disturbed halfway through the job, the half ploughed field was frozen in rows. We checked the tractor over to see if it had anything worth taking, but it didn’t. Some fields were full of dead animals, I’ve never seen so many, some looked like they had frozen to death, but with no one to feed them, some had just starved. As the darkness started to descend, we camped down for the night, having made good ground, I assume around fifteen miles, we were tired and very cold. The field we are in has square bales of hay, ready to be moved, a job the farmer never got around to doing, which is lucky for us as they offer some protection from the conditions. We found some heavy stones by the side of the hedgerow, unfolded the plastic sheet and created a roof going from one bale to another. We used the stones to weigh it down, and line the floor with more plastic sheets and then some blankets. We made a small fire with some branches and lighter fluid, and warmed ourselves while cooking some beans in the frying pan. Looking o
ut over the land, we could see another couple of specks of light, flickering orange, possibly fires keeping other travellers warm.

  6/11/2027 - Time 9:10

  We were up early this morning, keen to get moving. I slept surprisingly well considering the conditions, an extra body helped with the warmth. The plastic sheet we used as a roof had a four inch layer of snow and ash covering it, which just shows how much of this shit is coming down. Our plan for today is to get a full, twelve hours of walking in, the conditions seem similar to yesterday.

  6/11/2027 - Time 19:50

  We have camped down in an old deserted farm building after roughly twelve hours of walking, we kept to a good pace and don’t feel too bad. The cold was the hardest thing we had to deal with, it ravaged our limbs within a few hours of walking, sporadic breaks to rest and warm our bodies with food and the heat of the fire were our only comfort. I think we must have completed about thirty miles, I don’t think it could have gone much better, spending a largely quiet day walking and finding shelter for the night, where our damp clothes could be hung up to dry. The walk consisted of mainly fields, for long periods of the journey the motorway was hidden by huge black trees and bushes following the road, they proved easy to follow from a safe distance. The few times we got to see the road, the stories it told varied. Some areas were full of vehicles, sandwiched together in traffic jams, some areas had stray cars ditched by the roadside, sometimes burned out. The road and everything around it was covered in ash and snow, sometimes three feet deep. The pylons looked staggering from below, like giants roaming the landscape. As the day turned into night, our visual colour palette became one, the dark grey ash sky and trees creating a frame around the monotone land. The last motorway sign I saw before we stopped for the day read: Kendal one mile, Carlisle forty five miles.

  7/11/2027 - Time 22:20

  After having a quick breakfast, fried tinned vegetables, we set off at a quick pace, keen to take advantage of the reasonable weather. I would say it takes around three hours walking in these conditions before you start to really suffer, first the ends of your toes and fingers go numb, like when you were a child playing in the snow. It creeps up your hands and feet, like a disease seeking the warmth of a body, until you cannot feel anything. If your clothes get damp, the cold will get you, there’s no escaping it, we will have to change them frequently or give them time to dry. If we don’t, illness will follow and we don’t want to get ill out here, or we’ll have a real problem. The first three to four hours went amazingly well, we made great strides, passing over mainly familiar terrain dealing with the same conditions as yesterday. We also went through a couple of small deserted towns, with only a remnants of a once thriving community remaining, the market tables left out by the side of the road, and empty food boxes littering the street. After six hours walking we took a break for some food, taking shelter under a bridge carrying the motorway, protecting us from the conditions. Occasionally the wind blew through the tunnel reminding us it was still there, but it was better than being out in the open. We made a fire to boil some rice in our pan with drinking water, and mixed it with some left over vegetables, making a kind of risotto.

  Roy heard the noise first, it was hard to identify, a quiet humming sound somewhere in the distance, it gradually got louder until we realise what it was. A vehicle, on the road above. We quickly grabbed our gear and ran out of the tunnel, back into the blizzard. Taking a second to identify the location and direction of the vehicle, we sprinted up the nearest slip road and headed towards the motorway, running alongside the road, the vehicle past above us going north. By the time we reached the road, the blue car was sixty yards away, I don’t know why we ran after it, it was exactly what we had been told not to do. Maybe it was because we hadn’t heard or seen a car since we set off. Do we as humans, expect everyone to be at heart a decent person? We stepped onto the motorway, shouting, waving our arms in the air, hoping the driver might see us in his rear view mirror, but by then he was a hundred yards away. Hidden by an abandoned lorry, a black truck appeared from the side of the road, and smashed into the car. The impact was massive, the small car rolled to a stop, mangled and limp. Men, who had been hidden until this point, surrounded the car, as we turned and ran for cover, hoping we’d not been seen. Sat in the long dead grass behind a burned out car, we watched in horror as the passengers were dragged out disorientated. They were thrown to the side of the road as the car was inspected, I counted five men in total, all armed and had shown extreme violence. Some of the passengers tried to stand up, but they were kicked and punched back down, it was hard to tell exactly what was happening from our position, or any detail about the passengers. We did see two members of the group hauled to their feet and dragged away, the other three appeared to plead for their lives before they were shot where they sat. At that point we decided to get out of there as quickly as possible, backtracking down the slip road and onto the roundabout junction, we cut across the opposite field running parallel to the motorway, sticking close to the hedgerow. When we’d got a significant distance away, I turned around to make sure we weren’t being followed. Exhausted, we sat on a wooden fence to catch our breath and compose our thoughts. What were we thinking? We had been told not to get to close to the roads, how could we be so fucking stupid? It could have cost us our lives. As we rested, we studied the landscape around us, identifying where to go next. I didn’t want to stray too far from the M6, but we weren’t safe. There was a large dip in the centre of the field with trees on either side, while still alive, they looked like they were suffering from lack of sun, turning into shrivelled black statues. Ash and snow was covering everything, as far as the eye could see, it’s blinding white made it hard to navigate. Using the map, I managed to plot a route that missed this stretch of motorway, and re-join further ahead. We followed the field into the dip, guided by the trees we continued to make as much ground as possible. The winter winds rushed through between the trees, the ground crunched with every tired step, now and then I would check behind for anyone following. The indentation in the ground ran for miles, which we slowly walked, after a while we started to hear a faint noise, unidentifiable from this distance but intriguing none the less. The further we walked, the louder the noise got, we couldn’t decide what it was. It was a constant sound, never shifting in tone, like a machine. By now the snow was very deep, covering three quarters of our boots and was becoming increasingly difficult to walk in. As we neared the source of the noise, there was an almighty cracking sound behind us. I turned around just in time to face Roy, as the ground under his feet disappeared, and he dropped like a stone. As he fell, I put my hand out in hope of grabbing something, and was dragged towards the hole in which he had vanished. Freezing cold water was spraying up through the hole at me as it rushed past, I clung onto Roy with all my strength, I could see his hands through the ice, frantically searching for something to grip. The pull from the water was substantial, my arm felt like it was going to come out of its socket. The ice around me was breaking, I couldn’t hold him for much longer, the cold water was beginning to numb my arm, all feeling had gone. There was nothing to grip with my other hand, and my feet were scrapping around in the ash and snow. I gave it everything I had to pull him out, his rucksack was almost at the lip of the hole when there was a jolt under the ice and I lost my grip. Roy’s body shot off down the river, in the direction of the rushing water, I jumped to my feet and took off in the same direction. I sprinted along the snow, my rucksack bouncing uncontrollably on my back, in the direction of the ever increasing noise. Every time my boots hit the ground, I was worried it would be the last. Ahead, I could see what looked like a clearing, as I reached it, I slipped over the banking where the river was bursting out of the snow, flowing downhill into a pool below. There was no ice where the water was uneven, but it had formed where it was calm. I scanned the area trying to find Roy, glancing some colour, I jumped and stumbled down the muddy embankment landing on my knees at the edge of the pool. If Roy’s body
floated under the ice I would never find him, he was lying face up in the water but wasn’t moving. I inched along the lip of the ice on my belly, it cracked as I moved across, bits breaking off and floating away. I carefully reached out over the icy water, grabbing a hand full of his jacket I pulled him towards me, and then onto the ice. I stayed on my belly as I pulled Roy towards the embankment, as the ice around us cracked and splintered like glass. When I felt solid ground with my feet, I knelt up pulling him onto the grass, and using all my remaining strength I hauled him away from the water, his body sticking in the mud. He had a small cut to his chin, and another to his head, but was still breathing. I laid out the plastic sheets and pulled him over them, I needed to get him out of his frozen clothes or he would probably die. After removing them I hung them up to dry on the branches of a tree, and then wrapped him in blankets to make him comfortable. I cleaned and dressed his wound with the first aid, he shivered for hours, I thought he was never going to stop, eventually he fell asleep, he still is. I rigged the plastic roof over us for the night, making sure he was as warm as possible. I guess I’ll find out in the morning how bad he is, if he’s not well, we’ll have a problem.

  8/11/2027 - Time 22:08

  This morning, I lay in my blankets trying to seek out any remaining warmth, Roy had been making disconcerting noises all night, and had clearly been struggling. I had done as much as I could for him yesterday, his chances were now in the hands of the gods. As the darkness was replaced with grey, I got up and checked my clothes, that had been hung out to dry. They were dry enough to wear, so I got dressed. I needed to get a fire going, so I set one up as close to Roy as safely possible, using a pile of sticks and lighter fluid. The snow melted off the branches as the fire climbed up in search of oxygen, within a few minutes I could feel the warmth filling up our makeshift tent, I opened up my rucksack and rifled through the tins, settling on some soup. I opened the tin and searched for the pan, but I couldn’t find it, then realising we must have lost Roy’s rucksack, and with it half our food. Roy was asleep so I went out and searched for it, walking to the edge of the open water, I looked for any sign of colour, but there was none, everything was white or grey with stains of black. I walked over the embankment, backtracking towards the hole in the ice that Roy had fallen through, all the time searching, but found nothing. The hole had iced over, but was still visible, the water still rushing past below. Walking back towards Roy, I picked up a branch with a U shape that will hold a tin, as I approached our camp I noticed smoke coming off the fire, drifting upwards. Roy was awake but he didn’t look well, he was shivering, sweat pouring off his head as he mumbled incoherently. I removed the lid from the tin, placed it over the fire with the branch and tended to him. His blankets were soaked with sweat, I had nothing else to put him in, his clothes were still damp and his bag was gone. I removed his wet blankets, cleaned him as much as possible, wrapped him in my blankets and tried to feed him some soup. I have to be honest, I gave some serious thought about what to do next, it more than crossed my mind to leave him, it would have been the easiest decision to make, but it would have condemned him to certain death. In the end I couldn’t do it, I had to give him the best chance I could, I emptied my rucksack into our makeshift tent, to make some room, I needed to go and find some medication, and another set of dry blankets. We had past a large house and estate a few miles back, set back from the river. It looked like it would have been worth a couple of million in a previous life, now worth no more than its roof and walls. The approach to the building was beautiful, through open gardens and trees. The house was still showing its grandeur, a beautiful stone building with huge bay windows overlooking the courtyard. Some of the windows were still intact, something I hadn’t seen for some time. I walked up the stone steps to the entrance, the big wooden door wavered slightly ajar, it creaked as I pushed it open, just enough to fit through. It was deadly silent inside, I stood in the hallway, with huge ceilings and white walls. I slowly crept through to the foot of the stairs, which swept around the room ending on the floor above, behind me. I could see in the kitchen and the dining room from my position, everything looked untouched. The long dining table was still set at either end, expensive looking cutlery and crockery still sat in their places untouched. I walked into the kitchen to check for food, all the cupboards and draws were open with any food gone. It did appear to have been searched, but maybe only by a conscientious owner. I tried the taps, which made a house rattling noise, so I quickly turned them off. Heading up the stairs I noticed many family photos adorning the walls, the centre of each was a proud elderly couple, photographed with their family, and alone. As I came around the corner a smell filled my nostrils, and it wasn’t pleasant. Finding the source wasn’t difficult, as I approached the master bedroom, it got worse. It was rank, taking my breath away. The couple were laid on their bed, together, arm in arm, dressed in their best, the skin rotting off their bones, bottles of pills by their bed. I couldn’t stay in the same room for any length of time, choosing instead to search the other bedrooms. I needed dry blankets and a change of clothes for Roy, which I found in the first room. I packed as many towels and blankets into my rucksack as possible, before moving rooms. In the bathroom I searched through the cupboards for any medication that would help him through his fever, bottles clattered into the sink. The only thing left was cold and flu tablets, which I stashed. On the walk back the rain came, the last thing we needed. I ran back but by the time I got there, everything, including me, was drenched. The fire was out with little chance of another, Roy was shivering in his blankets, his body contorting, but at least he had been undercover. He was speaking though, which seemed like a positive, I got some water and cleaned the sweat from his body and wrapped him in the clean, dry towels. I gave him two tablets, a drink of water and let him sleep. I then stripped off my wet clothes, hanging them up to dry and wrapped myself in dry towels. I woke Roy up after four hours sleep to give him another dose of medicine, that was three hours ago, I’ll wake him again in an hour for another dose, and then try and get some sleep myself. As I write this, the wind and rain are battering the plastic tent, I had to add extra stones to keep it in place, I hope it moves over by morning, we cannot risk walking in it, and we need to make some time up.