by Moody, David
Steven checked every room, checking some twice, even three times, but there was no one here. He checked the garage – empty. The secluded back garden – nothing. There were signs they’d been here recently – crumbs of food and empty drinks glasses left on the table in Norman’s wooden summer house – but they were gone now. So where the hell were they?
Desperate now, feeling increasingly vulnerable and continually doubting himself, Steven quickly worked his way through the house one more time, weaving around furniture which had been hidden in the dull gloom, walking into things which weren’t where they should have been.
Back out onto the street. How long had he got? The exact time didn’t matter anymore, even the date was irrelevant. It wasn’t about planning ahead or looking back, it was about judging distances; knowing how long it had been since the last energy pulse and trying to work out when the next might strike. But with all phones and watches and every other way of measuring time now rendered permanently useless, and with no way of knowing how long he’d been left unconscious in the garage, he was totally disorientated now. He had to assume the next strike was imminent.
Steven knew his best option was to head back into town to the area around the castle. If Sam was still in Criccieth, that was more than likely where she’d be. He tried to run but the pain was too intense and a few stumbling steps at speed immediately slowed to an exhausted walk. There were more fires in Criccieth now, spreading fast. Distracted by the relative brightness of the flames up ahead, he tripped over something sprawled across the pavement. He looked down and saw that it was another corpse. It was worrying how quickly he’d become used to seeing death during these last few days, but this was different. This corpse lay alone and exposed, no immediate signs of anyone else being involved or any kind of trouble nearby. The cause of death, however, was obvious. The young girl (at least he thought it was a girl) had burned to death. Much of her hair had burned away, and some of her clothing had melted, fusing with her body. Her exposed skin glistened with seepage and her eyes were frozen open, staring up at him, staring through him. Wisps of smoke still rose up from the corpse. He’d not seen the body when he’d arrived here earlier; she was so grotesquely disfigured he was sure he would have remembered. She must have been caught without shelter when the full force of the last energy pulse struck, the wave he himself had barely survived. Christ, he thought, she must have been just behind me... For a fraction of a second he panicked that this might actually be Sam, but the girl was too short, and what was left of her hair too dark. The relief was immense, and the guilt which immediately followed was somehow harder to stomach than his initial panic.
Steven’s sense of smell had become badly degraded, the constant exposure to heat and the acidic air steadily wearing away his sensitivity. This close to the dead girl, however, the pungent stench was unavoidable. His stomach growled and churned, almost as if it was fighting itself. At once he felt both nauseous and hungry, the smell of cooked meat making him salivate. He clutched his chest and threw up in the gutter then staggered on.
There were still noises coming from the heart of the small town, definite signs of activity. But this wasn’t a community anymore, it was little more than a group of desperate and frightened individuals, clinging onto each other in order to try and stay alive for as long as possible. He wondered why anyone, himself included, still fought so hard when the end result appeared painfully inevitable. The world felt like it was accelerating towards Armageddon now, an unstoppable descent into Hell. He knew the point of no return had been passed a long time ago. The Earth had become an alien planet: dangerous and inhospitable, almost incapable of supporting life.
There were more fires springing up around him now, those houses which had been spared the full brunt of the energy pulse being set ablaze by neighbouring buildings which were already alight. The roof of one house he passed collapsed with a thunderous noise and a huge shower of sparks, making him cower and panic. He tried again to increase his speed but he was stuck in gear at the same miserable half-trip, half-walk. The fires were disorientating, blurring previously clear lines. Roads and pavements, gardens, verges, drives, car parks... it all merged into one now. He looked up at the castle, just visible through the smoke, and he knew that was where he had to go. That must have been where they’d all gone. The entire remaining population of the town had gathered in the safest place they knew – the castle which had withstood all manner of attacks over the centuries.
It was his last chance.
Now Steven could run. It hurt as much as before, but he knew that the castle on the hill was the very end of his journey and like an athlete finding their second wind when the finish line came into sight, he dug deep and pushed himself on. He’d transcended physical pain. It didn’t seem to matter now, sheer determination driving him forward, draining his final energy reserves. He knew after this last burst of effort he’d have absolutely nothing left but it didn’t matter because if she wasn’t here, he’d have absolutely nothing left to live for. He scanned the horizon as he ran, looking out to sea and watching for the tell-tale signs of the all-powerful heat and light he felt sure would arrive at any moment.
The road sloped down towards the ocean before climbing up to the entrance on the far side of the castle, a cruel hidden dip. For the first time since he’d arrived here he now had a clear view of the crescent-shaped shingle beach and Christ, it was a bizarre sight. There was a haze hanging over the shimmering water, water which was further out than he could ever remember seeing it before. There were handfuls of people out there still, though not in any huge numbers. Some were sitting down in the surf, others lying in it, more still just holding onto the people they cared about for as long as they could, knowing that their time together was rapidly coming to an end. Some were pressed against large rocks which had once been covered with seaweed and other vegetation, hiding pools which had teemed with life but which were now as parched as everywhere else. Some people hid down by the quay, seeking shelter directly under the castle on the headland high above them.
As surreal as the beach was and as inviting as the rapidly evaporating water appeared, he knew he couldn’t stop. He hit the bottom of the slope and began to climb back up, his legs constantly on the verge of buckling beneath him, but he kept moving because he could hear voices. In the unnatural stillness of this last night on Earth he could hear the people hiding in the castle. He wished he could silence his own footsteps and dry panting so that he could hear better, desperate to pick out Sam’s voice from the multitude. She has to be here. No second chances now. No last minute reprieve. If she’s not here, I’m lost.
Staggering now, barely able to keep going, starved of oxygen and struggling to stay upright, he managed the last few steps. It was almost too much, more like climbing a vertical mountain face than the final few metres of a gently sloped road. He pressed his hands against his knees, his centre of gravity all wrong, fighting to keep going. He swallowed huge gulps of empty air as he approached the front of the ruin, his throat sandpaper-dry and his tongue now feeling too big for his mouth. The ground finally levelled out but the effort remained as intense and he dropped to all fours and began to crawl. He looked up and it was like he’d fallen several hundred years back through time. No electric light. No technology. All the townsfolk gathered at this single central point to defend themselves from the coming storm. Would they even let him in?
Steven lurched to one side and used a car to haul himself back upright. The metal was hot to touch but the pain in his fingertips paled into insignificance alongside the pain he felt everywhere else. He staggered towards the doorway... it wasn’t even a doorway, he realised, just a gap in the stonework, and as he leant against it, trying to summon up the energy to take a few more steps, he saw that this place was in far greater disrepair than he’d imagined. He’d never been into the castle before and, from the outside, parts of it had appeared relatively complete. The reality was far different. It was little more than a few crumbled stone walls dotte
d around a once-grassy mound. He knew then that this place was more symbolic than structural. The people of Criccieth had surely known they’d find little protection here.
There were more people up ahead, pressed so tight against the ancient stones that they looked like shadows. They hardly moved as he approached, barely even looked up. He’d expected some resistance, confrontation even, but they presented neither. Instead they watched him with a mix of sadness, curiosity and indifference, trying to work out who this ragged stranger was, but at the same time knowing it didn’t matter at all. For a moment longer he looked at each of their faces in turn, desperate for recognition. There was no connection whatsoever. It seemed that each person’s world had collapsed to such an extent that they were isolated from everyone else now, together yet alone. There were a few couples, one or two families, and a proliferation of individuals with nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable. A man and woman held each other as the last minutes of their lives ticked away. The woman’s dirt marked face was streaked with clean lines from her tears. She clung onto her partner in silence. What was left to say?
Up ahead of Steven stood what remained of a twin-towered gatehouse with a single, well-preserved doorway space at its base. Through the door, illuminated by small fires which had been set in metal dustbins and empty oil barrels to light the way, he could see even more people. There were so many here in comparison to the rest of the deserted village, that he thought this must be the entire remaining population of Criccieth.
She has to be here...
A terrified-looking man collided with Steven, coming out of the door as he tried to get through. Too tired to care, Steven clung onto him, struggling to stay upright. The man pushed him away and he stumbled deeper into the remains of the castle before collapsing onto the brittle grass. They were all looking at him now... staring... and he understood why. He’d lost everything along the way – his hat, his sunglasses, his umbrella, his rucksack, his shirt, his car... everything all gone. There was nothing left of him now but this: just his shoes and his shorts hanging off his emaciated, sunburned frame. Nothing left inside him but the faintest flicker of hope he might see his wife one more time before the end.
He picked himself up again, gasping for air, and walked right into the middle of a group of townsfolk, vaguely aware of them moving away when he got too close. He thought it was funny and he might even have laughed if he’d had the energy. The end of the world’s almost in touching distance, all our lives coming to an end, and they’re scared of me? A stifled chuckle became a desperate sob as he searched for the one person who still mattered. Face after face after unrecognisable face... but she wasn’t here.
All that effort for nothing.
All I wanted was to see her again.
I just wanted to tell her I was sorry. I just wanted to tell her I love her.
He dropped to his knees, thinking he’d never move from this spot. He’d finally reached the end of his journey and he fell forward, his face hitting the dust, empty body rattling inside. He couldn’t get up again if he tried. No point now. His body was numb. He felt no pain, no fear, just the slightest sensation of relief that it was over at last.
Bring on the fire. Just let it happen.
He didn’t know how long he’d been down when he felt it. A tremor. Movement at his side. The beginning of the final energy pulse? He half-opened one eye and was actually disappointed to see that it wasn’t, that it was just one of the locals, trying to work out what the bedraggled creature was which had landed in the middle of their village. He felt a hand on his shoulder and tried to shake it off. Steven didn’t want to be messed with, he wanted to be left alone to die.
The grip on his shoulder tightened and became painful. He was about to protest when the whole upper half of his body was yanked up from the ground, twisting his spine. He kicked out and rolled over, then did what he could to get back to his feet.
‘Haven’t you done enough damage?’
Steven immediately recognised the voice. He turned around to face him. ‘Norman, I just...’
‘Save your breath,’ Norman said, and he lunged at him again. Despite being younger and having a much larger frame, Steven’s exhaustion put him at a clear disadvantage. He tried to fight back but was slow to react, and before he’d realised what was happening he felt another pair of hands around his waist, pulling him away.
‘Tenacious little fucker this one,’ a voice he didn’t recognise said as he was dragged backwards. ‘Joey said he’d locked him in the Clements’ house like you asked, Norm.’
Steven managed to look back over his shoulder and though he couldn’t see much, he knew the remains of a wall were behind him. He dug his feet into the ground and pushed back, taking the man who’d got hold of him by surprise and knocking the wind from his lungs as they both crashed back. He managed to squirm free and ran forward, straight into his father-in-law. ‘Stay exactly where you are,’ Norman yelled at him and, more in surprise than for any other reason, he did.
‘I came here to see my wife. You can’t stop me.’
‘She doesn’t want to see you. Can’t you understand that? She doesn’t want anything more to do with you. You’ve ruined her life.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘It is. Now get out of here before I have you thrown out.’
‘Do it. I’ll just come back. I’ll keep going all night if I have to, as long as it takes to get to see her, as long as we’ve got left.’
‘I always said you were an idiot. I should have left you in the road to burn.’
‘So why didn’t you? The way things are going we’ll all be dead by morning anyway. Look, I just want to talk to her.’
‘It’s too late for that.’
‘Just two minutes, Norman... that’s all I want.’
Norman glared at him with disdain which bordered on contempt. Steven saw that their confrontation had become the focus of everyone’s full attention. Knowing he wouldn’t get anything from his father-in-law, he looked to the others instead. ‘Can anyone help me?’ he shouted in a voice which didn’t sound like his own anymore. ‘I’m looking for my wife. I’m looking for Sam Johnson. I’ve walked halfway across the country to get here...’
Norman caught Steven’s chin in his hand and squeezed his jaw shut, silencing him. ‘Look at the state of you,’ he sneered. ‘Pathetic. You were never good enough for my daughter.’
Steven pushed his hand away. ‘I doubt anyone would have been, Norman. Thing is, I love her. Always have, always will. I’ve been an idiot, I know. I got my priorities wrong and I fucked things up. I pushed her away when we should have been closest and that’s my biggest regret. We’re all going to die, I know that and I know there’s nothing any of us can do about it, but I want her to know how much I love her before it happens. I don’t care about dying anymore, I just don’t want to die without her.’
‘You had your chance. You’re not going anywhere near my daughter.’
‘Where is she?’
‘You’ll keep away from her...’
‘Is she here?’ he demanded again, his voice louder, firmer.
‘Help me get rid of him,’ Norman said, but this time his helper didn’t oblige.
‘Norm, d’you not think...’ Steven heard the other man say. Norman reacted with fury.
‘I’ll do it myself then,’ he shouted, and he leapt forward like a man possessed, grappling Steven to the ground, wrestling him with the strength of a man half his age. Steven kicked back, but the old man’s tenacity was remarkable and he was unable to match his ferocity.
And then Norman stopped. He let Steven go.
‘Dad?’ she said. Steven looked up, his eyes stinging with dust and smoke. And then he heard her again. ‘Dad? What’s wrong?’
‘Sam?’
Is it really her?
‘Steve? Steve, is that you?’
It was as if the last few days had never happened. In seconds the pain eased and the nervous fear subsided. Steven crawled to the
wall and used it to pull himself upright again. He stared at her, unable to believe she was so close now after so long apart. So much time lost, so many miles driven, walked and crawled.
Norman staggered away, all the fight knocked out of him without a single punch having been thrown. Suddenly acutely aware of his decrepit appearance, Steven stood up and tried to brush himself down. His body – burned, broken and bloodied – bore little resemblance to the man Sam had left in Cambridge last week.
‘It’s me, Sam.’
‘How did you get here...? What happened...?’
He didn’t know how to answer, didn’t know where to start. He looked from Sam to her father, ready for him to launch another torrent of venom, but the old man was tongue-tied. Sam knew him well enough to be able to start connecting the dots, and he knew it. ‘Samantha, I—’
‘You knew,’ she said, cutting across him. ‘You knew he was here, didn’t you?’
‘It was for the best... it was when I went back to the house and the last pulse struck. Alan found him in the street outside and...’
‘And you just left him there?’
Norman was shaking his head. ‘No, no... I would never have done that.’
‘So what did you do?’
Her father looked at his feet, avoiding eye-contact like a lying kid confronted with the truth. ‘I didn’t want you to see him. I know how much he’s hurt you, love. We left him somewhere safe.’
‘You locked me in a dead man’s garage,’ Steven said angrily.
Norman ignored him and continued to try and explain. ‘I had to. I didn’t want him to—’
‘To what?’
‘To take you away from me again.’
‘I’m sorry, Sam,’ Steven said, tears welling up.
‘Sorry for what?’ she asked, covering her mouth, still not quite able to believe he was here.
