by Haywood, RR
She’s full too. Having scoffed several large bowls of pasta, fish, and canned meat. Then, she ate Danny’s leftovers. And Mo’s. Then Charlie’s. Then Nick saw Meredith eating Tappy’s leftovers and tried to join in, but Tappy called him a greedy twat and pushed him away.
Eventually, even Meredith ate more than she could handle and decided to head outside, and now, she stares, with a very full belly, at the white-bottomed rabbits. She can smell them. But then, Meredith can smell so much more than she could before. The air has changed. It’s cleaner.
But those rabbits. Those white bums. So many of them. She shouldn’t run. She can’t run. She’s too full. She’s eaten too much. She starts to turn away with a heavy sigh, then a second later, she’s low to the ground and streaking across the grass. The rabbits scatter. Running crazily in circles, but why have a fluffy, white target stuck to your arse if you don’t want to be chased?
She comes to a stop. Panting hard. A memory inside. An image of a park. Chasing birds. Her little ones laughing. Her pack. The pack before now. Sadness. Pain. Regret. Loss. Surges of feelings she doesn’t understand. She’s changed. The way her brain works is different now. The hive mind allows the others to feel her instincts and reactions, but that’s a two-way road, and in return, Meredith is gaining insight into the human mind.
Another feeling inside. In her belly. She vomits on the grass. Spewing her huge dinner up with one long, yacking cough. She definitely should not have run. It’s made her want to defecate too. She walks off a few steps and craps on the grass, then goes back to her regurgitated dinner, and wolfs it down again, in case Nick smells it.
He’d definitely try and eat it.
Rabbits scattered. Bowels emptied. Dinner re-consumed, and she heads back to the building. Jess lifts her head from a bucket of oats as Meredith draws closer. A look between them. One that suggests the horse should have given assistance to the chasing of rabbits while the other suggests she has oats so why the hell would she chase rabbits?
‘Feel better now?’ Clarence asks, shaking his head at Meredith. ‘You made us all jump.’
‘Would she eat a rabbit?’ Roy asks. ‘I could probably get a few for her.’
‘You’d kill a rabbit?’ Paula asks. Meredith likes Paula. She’s bossy. She tells the pups off. Pups are naughty. Paula should bite them.
‘It’s fresh meat for her,’ Roy says. ‘And it’d be a clean kill.’
‘Yeah, but still,’ Paula says with a strange look on her face like she ate something bad. Meredith wonders what it was. She generally likes the things humans find bad. Like fish guts and tripe. They should definitely get some fish guts and tripe.
‘Actually,’ Clarence says. ‘It’s a known fact that rabbits take more nutrients from the body than they give.’
‘Do they heck,’ Paula says, still looking like she ate something bad.
‘No,’ Clarence says, speaking over her. ‘There’s a famous story about some people in the Australian outback that ate rabbits and died of starvation.’
‘Get off!’ Marcy says, bursting out laughing. Meredith looks at her. She mates with the pack-leader. She has bigger things at the front than the other female pack members have. The pack leader likes them. He stares at them a lot. ‘You’ve spent too much time with Cookey,’ Marcy says. Her energy changes sometimes. She’s still pack, but she’s not quite the same as the others. She’s more like a cat.
‘Reggie,’ Clarence calls out, turning to look at the side of the van and the small man inside at his desk. ‘You must have heard about the rabbit thing.’
‘I have indeed,’ Reginald says.
‘Oh god, here we go. Cue lengthy, boring explanation,’ Marcy says.
‘I’m sure you can occupy yourself with a mirror, my dear,’ Reginald says, earning a middle finger from Marcy. They do that a lot. They squabble and fight. Meredith detects that Marcy had her own pack. She was the leader. Reginald was in her pack. Now, he’s in this pack.
Reginald doesn’t kill the prey with the others, but his energy is still right. Like the pack leader’s energy. Determined. Driven. Relentless. Ruthless. Pack leaders need that. The pack must survive. Survival needs strength.
‘And?’ Paula asks. ‘Was he right or not?’
‘Was he hell!’ Marcy says with another laugh. ‘You can’t die of starvation from eating rabbits.’
‘You are correct, my dear,’ Reginald says, making Marcy adopt that smug, cat-like grin of hers. ‘One cannot die of starvation as starvation comes from a lack of food. However, you can die of malnourishment. Which is what the people referred to did, indeed, perish from. Seeing that, Clarence was correct, and a diet purely of rabbit will not be enough to sustain life.’
‘Oh, fuck off,’ Marcy says, flapping a hand like she wasn’t bothered anyway. Which is exactly what a cat would do. ‘You ever heard about the rabbit thing, Dave?’ she asks as the small man walks over.
Meredith drops her ears to show respect, but she doesn’t move to Dave’s side like she does with the others because he doesn’t like contact.
‘What rabbit thing?’ Dave asks.
‘That you die of starvation if you eat them,’ Marcy says.
‘We never said that,’ Clarence says. ‘We said malnourishment, and Dave would have done the same survival training as me. Dave? Rabbits. They teach you about them?’
‘Teach me what?’
‘About the rabbits,’ Clarence asks.
‘What about the rabbits?’
‘That you can’t just eat rabbits,’ Clarence says.
Dave doesn’t reply. Meredith sometimes detects he does it on purpose.
‘Dave?’ Clarence prompts after a few seconds.
‘What?’
‘Jesus. I know how the boss feels now,’ Clarence says, rubbing his face. ‘Did they teach you about the rabbits?’
‘What about the rabbits?’
‘He’s doing it on purpose,’ Clarence says. ‘You’re doing it on purpose.’
‘Doing what?’ Dave asks. Meredith watches him. Seeing how his face doesn’t change the way the others do when they speak. Like now, with Clarence pulling all manner of expressions while Marcy and Paula smile and share looks, and Roy shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Dogs have lots of signals too. Just like people, but Dave doesn’t use those signals. His energy is very different. Meredith has never known anything with an energy like his. It’s entirely focused. Unwavering. Unrepentant. Unforgiving. Dave doesn’t have that same fear of failure the others have either. Dave fears things none of the others ever think about. He fears water and strangers touching him, and groups of people coming in close.
Clarence goes to speak before sagging on the spot. ‘I give up,’ he announces.
‘Give what up?’ Howie asks, coming out with a tray of drinks.
‘Dave,’ Clarence says. ‘We were explaining about rabbits.’
‘Rabbits?’ Howie asks while Meredith tracks his movements. Ready for any sign that the pack leader might look at her. He does it when he turns back. She flattens her ears and lowers her head while pushing into his side. Showing supplication.
I am pack. You are leader.
The horse looks at her with an expression that she might have shit on the end of her nose from shoving her head up his arse, but Meredith ignores her because she didn’t chase the rabbits.
‘You like rabbits, don’t you,’ the pack leader says. His eyes are dark. His energy is fury.
Pure fury.
‘Anyway. What were you on about?’ Howie asks. ‘Oh, the rabbits. Yeah, I read that. Australia, wasn’t it? They found some bodies or something and figured they’d only been eating rabbit and died of malnourishment.’
‘Yup,’ Clarence says. ‘Now, ask Dave if he ever heard of that?’
‘Dave? Did you ever hear of that?’
‘Yes,’ Dave says as the others burst out laughing.
Meredith heads inside the clubhouse. Already hearing the younger pack talking quietly. Smelling their scents. Heari
ng their tones. Feeling their essence.
‘I still don’t get it,’ Cookey says. Meredith goes over to him, pushing her nose into his hand to prompt a fuss that he gives willingly. Smiling at her. Showing pleasure at her presence. He makes the others feel good. That’s Cookey’s thing. His ability to share his energy when the pack struggles. He’s fierce too. Solid and dependable. ‘Do you understand it?’ he asks, looking at Meredith.
‘She’s smarter than you, that’s for sure,’ Blowers says, making the others laugh. He has one eye. He lost a finger. The other pack members aren’t entirely sure if he can actually be killed. Meredith respects him.
‘So, Henry killed Peter for a hoover?’ Cookey asks.
‘Fuck me,’ Blowers groans, shaking his head. ‘This is painful.’
‘I said vacuum,’ Charlie says. ‘Henry killed Peter to create a power vacuum to destabilise the travellers. George will go back and probably choose who they want to be in charge.’
Meredith pushed her head into Charlie’s shoulder. Charlie was hurt before she cut her hair off, and now, Charlie is trying to heal from that. The pack will protect her until she is healed. The horse will anyway. The horse would definitely chase rabbits if Charlie was doing it. The horse would eat badger shit if Charlie was doing it.
‘Yeah, but I still don’t get it,’ Cookey says. ‘Why do they want the fort?’
‘It’s not the fort they want,’ Charlie replies.
‘It’s the immunes,’ Maddox says as Meredith heads over to him, but she doesn’t flatten her ears for him because Maddox isn’t pack. Maddox had his own pack once. He was a leader. But his pack died. He was weak. He failed. He was too young to lead.
‘Well, it confuses the shit out of me,’ Cookey announces.
‘Shoelaces confuse you,’ Booker says, making the others laugh again.
Meredith moves on, doing the rounds from one to the next. Going over to the new pack member Booker who rubs her head while laughing at the jokes. Meredith doesn’t know Booker, but the pack has accepted him, and he fought well today.
Meredith heads over to the double bedroll where Tappy lies on her side, with Nick behind her. Tappy has the right energy. She’s hurt too. Like Charlie. Like all of them, but her fear is of failing and losing her new pack. That’s the right fear in the right place.
‘Not again, Nick. Jesus, mate. Have you got worms or something?’ Blowers asks as Meredith spots Nick pushing a biscuit in his mouth. She lunges over Tappy and tries shoving her tongue in his gob in the hope he’ll spit it out, but Nick is wise to that trick and moves his head away while chewing faster as she diverts the attack to the biscuit in his hand.
‘Mine!’ Nick says with a mouthful as Tappy dives in to grab at Nick’s hand to help the dog. ‘Get off! It’s mine!’ Nick says with everyone else bundling in to wrestle the biscuit from Nick’s hand. A mass of bodies rolling and laughing over the floor, with the dog’s tail slapping faces and heads until Meredith snaffles the biscuit and makes good her escape. Lying down between Mo Mo and Danny.
‘Did she get it?’ Danny asks, shifting position to see Meredith crunching away happily. ‘She did!’ he adds with a laugh.
‘So’s anyway, yeah, go on. Then, what happened?’ Mo asks, his voice low and whispered. ‘She was naked, yeah?’
‘Yeah,’ Danny whispers. ‘Like, she took her top off and… And she was like, Danny, you can do me. But she didn’t say it like that. She was all sexy.’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get it,’ Mo says. ‘In the dream, yeah? Like all sexy.’
‘Proper sexy,’ Danny says.
‘Like a YouTube model sexy?’
‘Like a million plus followers on IG sexy,’ Danny says.
‘Man. No way,’ Mo whispers. Shaking his head. ‘Yo, listen, right, if you’s have that dream again, you ask her to go get more fitness models, then come wake me up, bro. We’ve got that hive mind going on, so’s we can probably, like, share dreams and shit. And if I dream of hot models, I’ll come and wake you up. Yeah?’ Mo asks, hovering his hand over the dog’s head for Danny’s fist bump.
Meredith stays put. Happy to eat her biscuit with the pups. They can fight. And they’re fast too. But they’re young and full of wild energy. They need to eat and play, and train, and eat, and play, and train. Pups need repetition. And love. And support.
And biting.
Paula should definitely bite them.
They like each other too. Meredith can feel that. The whole pack can feel that. It’s a good thing. Pups learn better when they have other pups with them. Danny came from a bad place. Mo Mo did too. They didn’t have strong pack leaders to guide them. Now, they do.
She finishes the snack, and after licking the pups a few times each to make sure they’re clean, she heads to the back of the room and pushes through the door to where the other pack have made a den.
‘Size of her,’ Frank says from his own bedroll as Meredith walks in. ‘You ever seen a dog that big before?’
She stands over him. Staring down at his craggy features and the mop of thick hair. He smiles up. Toothy and cheeky. Offering a hand to fuss her head. ‘Showing us who’s the boss, aren’t you?’
Bashir stares up at her. Unsure and wary, because dogs are not always pets, especially in a country torn apart by war, and especially not massive guard breed dogs like this one.
A click of a tongue draws Meredith away. She walks over to the other bedding. To the older woman reaching up to stroke her head. Meredith knows Joan. She met her at the fort.
One last person to check. Meredith walks to the far end of the room. To the dark shadows and the bedding roll on the floor where the lean man with the bald head lies on his back. His hands clasped neatly over his chest.
A man that has an energy like her own pack leader. Dark and furious, but he’s wiser. Older. More experienced. That’s a dangerous combination, and so, Meredith moves in a step closer. Telling him to go carefully because she’s watching him.
Henry doesn’t flinch. If the dog wanted to hurt him, she would have done it.
‘I’ll head out for a bit,’ Carmen says, gathering her rifle as she heads for the door. Meredith goes with her, slipping out through the clubhouse as Carmen makes her way into the corridor and out into the night. ‘Hey,’ she says quietly to the others. ‘Thought you’d be up top,’ she adds. Motioning to the tower offering a 360-degree field of vision.
‘We did try,’ Paula says, giving Clarence a look. ‘But the horse tried following us up.’
‘Not my fault,’ Clarence says.
‘Who keeps giving her biscuits?’ Paula asks as Meredith jumps into the back of the Saxon and sniffs about until she finds the plastic bag containing the nightly snacks. The sound of which promptly alerts Jess who barges Howie aside and looms her head over Marcy.
‘Fuck me,’ Howie says, mopping the spilled tea. ‘You might as well get them out now.’
‘Can’t. We’ve got rules,’ Clarence says. ‘We’re not like your first watch sex club, you know.’
‘We don’t have sex on the first watch,’ Howie says as everyone turns to look at him. Including Reginald who leans over to give Howie a stare while Meredith settles down. Panting quietly and listening to the pack elders talk as the night grows darker.
‘I’m heading in,’ Paula eventually says, prompting the others to yawn and stretch, to bid each other goodnight. A few moments later, and only the pack-leader and his mate remain. Meredith detects the change in energy between them. The way Marcy looks at him like a cat does when it wants something, and the way Howie keeps glancing at her chest.
They mate quickly. On the floor, in the back of the Saxon. The doors pulled to but not closed.
‘I love your boobs… Oh my god, I love your boobs…’
Meredith cocks her head over at the pack-leader’s rushed voice. Listening to the grunts and gasps while wishing they’d hurry up so the second watch can start.
Eventually, it does, and the changeover comes in the small hours as the big ma
n comes out. Sleepy and yawning. Brew made. Biscuits opened, and he grunts softly as Jess and Meredith take their positions, and the air fills with the sounds of happy munching.
3
Day Twenty-nine
‘Come on, guys! Get loaded…’ Gemma calls as she walks out of the big barn. ‘Javid? Have you checked the fuel? Heather said we’re not stopping once we get going.’
‘I’ve checked everything’ Javid says, patting the front of the coach. ‘Fuel, oil, tyres, engine, electrics.’
‘Check them again,’ Heather says, striding over.
The sight of her bringing forth a sudden quiet. The weapons she carries. The way she dresses. The scars and marks all over her face and arms. A walking poster of the apocalypse. Especially with Paco at her side. Over six foot and packed with muscle. A red, checked scarf tied about his neck hides the ruined flesh where Meredith tried to tear his throat out, but in the daylight, he’s still very obviously Paco Maguire.
‘Hey,’ a woman says while walking by. Heather rolls her eyes and shoots him a look, but what can he do? He’s Paco Maguire.
Then, it’s done, and the coach stands ready.
‘We’ve told everyone if it goes wrong, then to either get to the fort or back to the barn,’ Gemma says.
Heather nods. She has done all she can do. The automatic door closes, and the coach bounces across the field, towards the road.
Nearly thirty days since the world ended. Cleaner air. Cleaner fields. Greener grass. Hedgerows bursting with life. ‘Don’t go too fast,’ she says while staring intently through the front window.
‘I’ve been driving coaches for twenty-seven years, love,’ Javid says.
Heather doesn’t know what to say to that, so she stays silent. People really aren’t her thing.
She remembers the journey from hell she took trying to get Subi, Rajesh, and Amna to the fort, and how everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.
