by Matt Shaw
Father didn’t say anything. I glanced to the side to see if he was even listening. He was staring out of the passenger window. Here I am - trying to make peace - and he wasn’t even paying me any attention.
“Did you hear me?” I asked him.
“I did.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Heard me. Chose to ignore me. So much for our bonding time. I looked into the rear-view mirror to see if anyone else was paying attention to this. They too were looking out of their windows, trapped in their own thoughts or just not wanting to get involved. Not sure which.
“Did you try the radio?” he asked.
“Broken,” I said.
“Shame.”
He leaned down and fiddled with the dial. True to my word - it didn’t work. This is the point where I had to fight with myself not to say I told you so. I flashed him a look - hoping the expression on my face spoke the words I dare not.
It’s going to be a long car journey.
* * * * *
BEFORE
Not in Control
Dad was driving me somewhere. He hadn't said where. He’d just told me that we had somewhere to be. I didn’t argue with him. I couldn’t be bothered. Still pining over my girlfriend (or rather, lack of). I was looking out of the window, wondering where we were going. Dad leaned down to the radio quietly pumping tunes into the car, and killed it with a flick of the switch.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
“For a drive.”
“A drive? I thought you said we had somewhere to be?”
“We do.”
I laughed at how awkward he was being, “So where are we going?”
We turned into a small car-park illuminated only by a couple of lights at either side of it. He pulled up underneath one of them and switched the car’s interior light on. I looked out of the window. I knew the car-park but had never been in it before and - more to the point - I couldn’t see anything nearby which would warrant us being here.
My over-active imagination started whispering evil thoughts to me; he’s brought you somewhere quiet and is finally going to kill you.
The only thing he killed was the engine.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re talking.”
“Talking?”
Dad nodded.
“Couldn’t we have done this at home where it is warm?”
Dad shook his head.
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay. What did you want to talk about?”
“How long have you been out of employment for now?” he asked.
His question came out of the blue and took me by surprise. Of all the things for him to ask - at this particular moment - this wasn’t one of the possibilities that I expected to come from his mouth.
“Few months?”
“Four.”
“Four?”
“Four months.”
“Seems like quite a while.”
“Know how much you have contributed to the household in those four months?”
“When I’ve had a little extra money left over from my benefits, I’ve given mum…”
Dad interrupted me, “Twenty-five pounds…”
“Twenty-five?”
“You think that’s fair?”
“Well the benefits money doesn’t tend to go very far.”
“Yet you still manage to go out with your friends…”
“Rarely.”
“Yet you still go out.”
I didn’t argue with him. There was simply no point. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat wondering where this was going and - more to the point - why we couldn’t have done this at home.
“You’re going to have to move out,” dad broke the silence.
“What? You want me to move out?”
“It’s for the best.”
“Not for me it isn’t.”
It suddenly dawned on me why he had pulled me away from the house to have this conversation. This was all his idea. He pulled me out of the comfort of our home so mum couldn’t hear what he had to say. I’d wager a bet she didn’t even know he planned to say this.
“Does mum know we’re having this conversation?” I asked him.
He glared at me, “And she won’t know.”
“She’ll have a good guess. I’m just expected to go home, pack up my bits and move out with nowhere to go? You really think she won’t suspect something is up?”
“If you want one thousand pounds and to stay in my will - I’m pretty sure you can make it so she doesn’t expect anything.”
“A thousand pounds?”
Dad nodded, “Something to help you set yourself up in a new flat.”
“How do you expect me to keep a flat if I don’t have a job? What, I pay one month of rent and then that’s it - I’m evicted with nowhere to go?”
“Gives you some extra drive. A little focus.”
“What have I done to make you hate me so much?”
Dad didn’t answer me. In truth - I guess I didn’t expect him to.
“So how long have I got?” I asked him.
“I’ll give you until the end of the week,” he said.
“The end of the week?”
It was Friday evening.
Dad nodded.
“How am I supposed to find a new place to live in a couple of days?” I asked.
Dad smiled, “Not my problem.”
* * * * *
NOW
“What’s that?” I nodded out of the windscreen towards a building in the distance. Of course I knew exactly what it was; the house where I had found the old couple in their bed - having taken their own lives rather than try and survive in this shitty situation.
CHAPTER FIVE
NOW
Home From Home
“Just keep driving,” Father said.
Funnily enough I hadn’t counted on him telling me to just keep driving. I thought a curious streak in him would make him want to stop off and investigate the property. I slowed the car down to a crawl despite what he said.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Didn’t you hear me?”
I had to think on my feet. Had to convince him it would be a good idea to stop and look around.
“We need to stop,” I said.
“We’ve only just started, keep going.”
“I’ve seen it out there. The place is a wreck. We need to see if there is any food here,” I said despite knowing full well that the cupboards were bare.
“I am hungry,” Mother piped up from the back.
Father knew what I was saying made sense but there was a strong chance he’d go against it regardless - for no other reason than to be an asshole to me. With Mother getting involved from the back, even as indirectly as saying she was hungry, there was more of a possibility Father would permit us to pull over to search the property.
“Make it quick,” Father said in a hushed voice as though he didn’t want anyone in the back to hear he had agreed with me. I wanted to bask in the moment. I wanted to ask him to repeat himself a little louder; pretend I hadn’t heard him. I didn’t though. Figured it best to say nothing.
I pulled the car to a complete stop just by the front door. I killed the engine and slid the key from the ignition. Not sure why I took the key back. It wasn’t as though anyone was going to take the car from us.
I looked at Father and asked, “How do you want to do this?”
“Quickly and quietly.”
We hadn’t seen anyone for a couple of days now - other than the cat - and still Father was concerned about running into trouble. I didn’t question his thought processes. No sense picking an argument. I faced the girls sitting in the back.
“Ready?” I asked them.
“Ready for what? They’re not coming with us!” Father said.
“What are you talking about?”
“They need to stay here, with the car. Make sure no one takes it.”
“Who? Who exactly? We hav
en’t seen anyone. Not back at our home, not on the way here… We’re alone. You know it makes sense for them to come in. It’ll take less time to look around if we’re all in there.”
“They’re staying in the car. End of discussion.”
Father opened the door and climbed from the car. He slammed the door shut. I hesitated a moment wondering what I could say to get him to change his mind about taking the girls in. He was already at the front door. Can’t think of anything. Damn. I turned back to the girls, “We won’t be long.”
I opened the door and climbed from the car, following Father. Before I had even reached him, he was knocking on the door.
“You think anyone is home?” I asked. “The place looks empty.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be safe. If there is anyone in there - and we go bursting in… They probably won’t respond too kindly.”
We waited for a while to see if anyone would come and answer the door. Frustrating considering I knew there was no one home. At least - no one who was still breathing. Father reached down with his left hand and tried the door. I wasn’t surprised when it opened. He pushed the door open and stepped in. He turned his head back towards where I was standing. I could tell by the look on his face that the smell of the elderly couple had hit him and that he was trying to get the last bit of possible fresh air before being completely overcome. I took a deep breath myself and stepped into the dark hall, leaving the door open behind me in the hope it would encourage a fresh breeze to run through the rooms.
“Fucking stinks,” Father said as he made his way through to the kitchen.
I followed wishing he had gone to investigate upstairs first. The sooner he sees the bodies up there, tucked up in bed together in a final embrace, the sooner I can try and convince him it’s a good idea to get out of here and go home again.
“Check the cupboards over there!” he ordered me as he started working from one side of the kitchen, pulling all the various cupboards and drawers open in the search for food. In order to keep up appearances, I did the same from the opposite end of the kitchen just as he had instructed. I knew there was nothing in here though. I knew this was a waste of time. Couldn’t say anything though. “Well - son - this was a brilliant idea you had,” Father mocked me.
“It was worth a look,” I replied.
Father stopped what he was doing and smirked, “No. It wasn’t.”
I changed the subject back to the purpose of why I had brought him here in the first place, “What’s that fucking smell?”
Father shrugged, “Not our concern. We need to get going whilst it’s still light outside.”
He pushed passed me and headed back down the hallway towards the front door (and the ever enticing fresh air).
“You’re leaving?” I called out.
“We stopped for food. There is none. There’s clearly no survivors. We need to go.”
Father didn’t wait for me to argue with him. He was already out the front door. I muttered under my breath and followed him - happy to be out in the fresh air but disappointed he hadn’t seen the elderly couple rotting in their bed. My heart sank further when I noticed he’d climbed into the driver’s seat. I didn’t say anything. I just climbed into the passenger side with a feeling of dread washing over me. With Father behind the wheel, it’s only a matter of time before he discovers the truth and they all realise I had been lying to them. No. Not lying. I just hadn’t told them the whole truth… Either way - relationships are going to change.
* * * * *
BEFORE
Own Two Feet
I was standing in the empty living room of what had recently become my new flat. One month’s rent paid by dad and some money in my bank account for the following months too. To be paid back of course - in full. There were no freebies.
Mum was looking at me, tears in her eyes. Dad was standing by the front door.
“What do you think?” I asked her.
I was asking about the flat. This was the first time mum had seen it. Only the second time I had seen it. Third time for dad who’d agreed to it before even showing me. I don’t think he believes it’s necessarily the best deal but it was available immediately and - to him - that’s all that mattered.
“Mum?”
“It’s…. Nice.”
She didn’t like it. I don’t blame her. I didn’t either. It was small. Cramped. Ugly. Smelt funny. Crap view out of the windows too; some dodgy looking industrial estate where girls plied their trade late at night.
Mum turned to me, “Are you sure you want this?” she asked.
“I like it.”
I hate it. Dad liked it. I didn’t get a choice in the matter.
“It’ll be fine when he moves his stuff in. Very homely,” dad called from the doorway.
“He’s right,” I tried to reassure mum. “It’ll be good.”
“I like having you at home,” she said.
I smiled at her and gave her a hug. As I held her close, I twisted my head to look at dad. He looked completely indifferent to me. I wondered what I had done to push him away from me. Had he always felt like this? Had he been just waiting for the right moment to kick me out?
“You can still come and visit,” mum said.
“Yes. Of course.”
I wanted to tell her about dad. I wanted to tell her that I was moving out because he wanted me to and that - in actual fact - I wanted to stay at home with them. At least until I was more secure on my own two feet. I couldn’t say anything though. She loved him and I think he loved her. Who was I to ruin that for her?
Doesn’t mean I can’t hate him though.
* * * * *
NOW
The Truth
“You need to pull the car over,” I told Father.
He ignored me. He just kept on driving. I reached down and pulled the handbrake up and the car screeched to a halt. Father turned to me - such anger in those black eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked.
“I need to tell you something before we go any further. It’s important.”
“Take your hand off the fucking handbrake!” Father shouted.
“No. Not until you listen to what I have to say…”
“What is it?” Mother asked from the back.
Father turned the engine off - no doubt to conserve fuel - and stared at me. We’re not family - not real family - and yet the look he has in his eyes, right now, is almost exactly the same look my own dad gave me.
“Well? What is it?” he asked. “What’s so important?”
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to tell them. I wanted to keep the truth from them. I knew I couldn’t though. They were on the path to finding out for themselves and - if I didn’t say anything - they’d never forgive me. Hell - there’s a chance they’ll never forgive me for keeping it from them anyway.
“There wasn’t an explosion,” I said.
No easy way of saying it. Just need to spit it out.
“What are you talking about?”
“We’re not a real family.”
“Of course we are! Don’t be so silly!” Mother put her hand on my shoulder as though it were supposed to give me some form of comfort and let her know that she was there for me. Father said nothing. He was just staring at me with those dead eyes.
“It’s nothing more than an experiment,” I said.
No one said anything. We all just sat there in silence.
Unsurprisingly Father was the first to speak, “Finished?”
He leaned forward and turned the car key in the ignition. The engine growled into life.
“I’m telling you the truth,” I said.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve but… You need to stop it. Seriously - what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m telling you the truth!” I shouted. “I found the site from where they control us. I found the files which told me everything. The memory wipe they performed on us - controlled by a drug in the water… That’s why t
he water was so plentiful. Because they wanted it to be! I found out every…”
“Just shut the fuck up!” Father shouted.
“If you keep driving this road - you’re going to reach the very same compound I stumbled across. Everything is there…”
“And if this is true - why did you come back to us?”
Sister suddenly screamed from the back of the car. She opened the car door and started to run back down the dirt track towards the house of death we’d not long since left.
“Now look what you’ve done.”
Father and Mother climbed from the car too before I had a chance to explain why I was telling them this and - to answer his question - why I ended up going back to the house where they’d been hiding away. I hesitated a moment before I too opened the car door and gave chase to Sister. She had run straight into the house in floods of tears. Father was first through the door, followed closely by Mother. By the time I entered, they were all standing in the kitchen. Sister was screaming from the kitchen about not wanting to go on anymore.
“Get back to the car. We need to get going!”
“I don’t want to go! I just want to stay here…”
“Come on, honey…” Mother stepped in as though a kinder word would entice Sister back to the car.
“See what you’ve done?” Father turned to me. Venom in his voice, anger in his eyes.
Mother kept trying to talk Sister down, “Why don’t you want to go? You heard your brother - everything is fine out there. He’s seen it. There was no bomb. We can go home…”
“I don’t remember anything. Before waking up with all of you. I don’t recall who I am… How can I go back?” Sister was crying. Her thoughts echoed my own thoughts when I first had found out that the world we were living in was nothing more than a lie. How can you go back when you’ve been turned into something you don’t like? There is no way back.
