Welcome to the apocalypse

by Lee Kerr

  He pulls down hard on my tie, forcing me to bow down to him. He keeps a tight hold on my reins and leans in closer, so he can whisper into my ear. ‘We have no time for mistakes today. They arrive in less than an hour and I need everything to be perfect. If it isn’t then we risk everything. We have all to gain or all to lose on this deal and it’s your job to make sure I am focused on one thing and one thing only. Do you understand me?’

  I cough, barely able to move. He eventually releases his grip and we both straighten ourselves up and look at the other, neither of us refusing to give in. I am the junior, the servant to my master, and a vulnerable servant at that. But as he looks at me I know that deep down he is the small one – the little boy in the body of a relatively successful man.

  That’s what my dad had said when he told me that an internship at SkyCloud Industries was the right thing to do, that it would offer me a future that he never could. From the moment he said it I didn’t believe him but I knew I didn’t really have a choice. My dad owed so much and it turns out the only thing he had to give was me. And so I’ve been made the whipping boy, the verbal punch-bag. I’m at his mercy and we both know it.

  ‘You need to be 100% on your game today,’ he says, his attention back on his reflection. I wonder what he sees – perhaps a cat who thinks he’s a lion, or a boy who thinks he’s a man. Or maybe he sees a different truth that he doesn’t want to accept. ‘If we lose this investment then we lose everything. The world has changed and we are now behind, which means we need to adapt and we need to do it quickly, before it’s too late. My plan will only work if everyone plays their part and yours is to support me in making this deal happen.’

  His eyes don’t leave the mirror as he straightens his shirt, fussing over himself. ‘My plan will work,’ he mutters, as he tucks the shirt deeper into his trousers. He suddenly turns, almost walking into me. ‘What are you still doing here? Go get changed and then check the room is ready to receive our Chinese guests.’

  I nod and do as I’m told, walking away as he mutters something about never having asked for an executive lap-dog, but that’s what he got.

  I walk calmly out of the room, conducting my final affairs with the ultimate of dignity. Only when I get outside and close his door do I allow my most obvious of frustrations to show as I behave like the young guy I actually am. I storm down the corridor, scrunching up my face and pulling at my hair, allowing myself to be angry, to be entirely fucked off. I’m dizzy, lost and mad, all at the same time. I know that everything will be my fault if today goes wrong, because if we don’t get the resources and the investment then we won’t be able to launch the Sky Cities, and if we cannot launch them then we will not be able to deliver what we promised to the new world citizens. What gets under my skin is why any of this is my concern. I should be in college, in lectures, in a bar – anywhere but here, with the burden of a megalomaniac and the end of the world conspiring against me.

  I’m not worried about the fact that if we don’t launch in time all these people will be stuck on this small island, and if that happens, the country will eventually fall into chaos. I’m worried because these people, the apparent top citizens of planet Earth and complete blood-suckers, have paid a lot of money and now we are risking a furious reaction from a several hundred angry members of the elite who are accustomed to only a five-star lifestyle. Telling them we spent all their money but never managed to get anything off the ground would not be received well. I imagine telling them that they should return to what’s left of their decadent mansions and try to reconstruct their privileged lives that fate so abruptly stole from them.

  I storm into my room, ripping off the tie from around my neck. I feel the burning sensation through my shirt as I picture the few other ties that I have. My limited funds only stretched to very basic colours. When I walked into Lawrence’s suite this morning I looked my best; I had saved my favourite outfit for today, and now because of one small decision I find myself lost.

  ‘You took the thought out of my mind,’ a voice says from the other side of my room. I recognise it and I only look over out of instinct.

  ‘Great minds always think alike,’ she says, her naked body spread across the crisp, white sheets of my freshly made bed. She moves and stretches like a cat lying by a fire, taking her time, knowing that I’m watching. I stop still, my mind immediately mesmerised by the curves of her body. She lays flat, running a finger along her back and onto her firm ass before pointing at me and motioning me to come to her.

  I shake my head, my sense of duty is waning, but somehow it still overrides every instinct pumping through my veins. ‘Destiny, you can’t be in here,’ I say, turning my attention back to the wardrobe. I focus my entire mind on hunting for an outfit that matches, something that won’t make my boss feel I’m challenging him and one that I haven’t worn a hundred times before. It somehow helps, as I forget where I am and think back to the day I left home. My mum did her best; bought the best she could with what money they had. She smiled when we laid the ten shirts and ten ties out on my bed. There was just about enough for two weeks and they were varied enough to stop people thinking they had seen me wearing the same thing, and discovering the pattern of how poor I really was.

  ‘Henry, I need you!’ Destiny shouts, still pinned to my duvet. ‘Please come to me.’

  I take a deep breath as my loneliness takes over any sense of control and I slowly move to the bed. I soon realise my mistake as she lashes out, trying to pull me back into our endlessly complicated web of lies. I pull away, my mind unable to comprehend what will happen if this precious creature is found in the executive assistant’s bedroom, in this wrong place – in any room at all with me. I move too slowly, my reaction too late as a hand catches my shirt, creasing it as she grabs hold. My hands are soon all over hers, grappling and pulling her away, all the time shouting that she is damaging my shirt, wrecking my day, ruining everything.

  She hears them too, the words that I cannot retract. ‘You sound like my fucking father!’ she shouts as she lets go and lies back down, choosing to finally cover herself with a sheet. ‘Why don’t you lighten up? It’s not like he will ever come into the room of one of his minions, is it?’

  I sit on the edge of the bed and run a finger along her leg. ‘I know that, of course I do. But you don’t seem to get how important today is and how much is resting on us reaching an agreement with the Chinese.’

  When she doesn’t answer I walk over to the window, looking across the beach and out across the ocean. This complex used to be one of the best resorts in the Caribbean, and until recently I could only have dreamed about coming here and taking a girl to this place for a summer vacation of sweet love and crazy nights. This place is probably all that remains of luxury life on Earth; it’s also empty, lifeless and so utterly incomplete. The only time it will mean anything again will be when all our guests arrive for a couple of nights ahead of the launch. Some are already here but many more will follow, and I’m sure it will be two days of partying and champagne toasts to the new world, as we send off the lucky ones who are getting to escape. They will most likely suck the final few drops of life out of this island and leave it with nothing, meaning that for the sake of my own survival, I hope I’m with them and not with those who must remain behind.

  We all know that the people who call this place home will get left the landfill and a hangover from the special few. They will have to live off whatever remains, from the cast-offs of the super-rich. I find it ironic that those elite few will still need those on the ground to send up food and supplies, all of which will be locked away from those down below.

  I turn to her, hoping she will at least listen, if not understand what troubles me, what should be troubling us all. ‘The world has changed a lot, but we don’t see it when we’re on this island. We’re sheltered, cut off from all the bad things that are happening. I heard earlier that the United Kingdom is now in big trouble. It was the only country still transmitting from that part of the wo
rld; we’re getting nothing from more than half of the planet. Iceland disappeared yesterday and no one knows why. The world is collapsing, Destiny, do you get that?’

  She says nothing as I stare out the window at the people who are enjoying the beach. They are early arrivals from places that have already lost hope. Lawrence claims they have good reasons to be in the final few – they are the scientists, politicians and doctors who will be needed in the new world, and while I question their qualifications I am ultra-confident of their ability to pay the entry fee. I turn around, checking the reason for her silence, expecting to see that she is listening, reflecting – maybe even realising that what is happening may well be something that even her father cannot protect us from. She’s still on the bed but she’s not heard anything I’ve said. She is lying on her back, her legs in the air, gently teasing herself.

  She lets out a long moan. ‘Forget world collapse. Get over here now and shove your big stick inside me!’

  I shake my head, much like I do every time she makes this demand. Sometimes it’s coupled with a smile, nudging me to appreciate Destiny for the primal beast she is, but this time it comes from a place of genuine disappointment. She cannot see what is happening; her refusal to look beyond the moment and the simplest of pleasures proves that she doesn’t deserve what she will automatically get – passage out of here and a privileged life of luxury for as long as her precious daddy lives and leads us all. As much as I want it for her, I know she doesn’t deserve it, and if he doesn’t survive for as long as he hopes then it’s anyone’s guess whether her whining will be tolerated, or if she will simply be thrown overboard.

  ‘Fuck me now, Henry!’ She pushes her finger deeper inside herself and lets out a loud moan. ‘Fuck me now or I’ll scream so loud! I’ll scream until they all come running into your room to see what we’re doing together!’

  I move towards the bed, pulled closer by a mixture of desperation and anticipation. The threat is not registering in my pants and only my mind wonders if perhaps I have let this go too far, that this once simple girl has now become my crazed lover. By the time I consider my choices I’m already on top of her, softly kissing her neck; her moans are subdued as she forces our bodies into an embrace.

  She pulls my pants down and rips my shirt open. I sigh, wanting to tell her off for ruining one of my few perfectly good ones, but before I can say anything she’s got hold of my cock and is forcing it inside her. She jolts our bodies together, forcing us both to move to the rhythm of her constant moans and her desperate need for my attention.

  I don’t spend this precious time in the realms of lust; in fact, I’m not really in the same place as Destiny at all. I think of her working both of our bodies towards a joint purpose but all I really care about is everything that must be done today. As she forces me to go faster, to reach the climax she’s been teasing herself to reach all morning, I wonder which shirts I have ironed and ready to go, and which ties will match. I think to myself that this isn’t how the morning of the pitch to launch the salvation of mankind should have been, not from my perspective anyway.

  ******

  ‘You’ve changed into blue now,’ he says, looking me up and down, trying to find fault in the most obvious of places, never knowing the layers of blame he often manages to place on me.

  ‘I changed into a grey suit, blue shirt and blue tie, something plain so I would look nothing like you, because I didn’t want to outshine you in any way, sir.’

  He adjusts his glasses, like he always does when he is deciding if something is worth a fight. ‘Good,’ he finally says, much to my surprise. ‘You’re starting to learn but you need to remember it’s not about outshining me but rather about knowing your place. Do you know your place, Henry?’

  I nod, only enough to satisfy his need for control. I have still not truly got to know where my place is in all of this. I haven’t had somewhere I could call home for weeks and no one to trust since I left my parents. The absence of both makes me feel more alone than I had ever thought possible. I’m in a cage with a cobra I thought I used to know. He used to be someone I trusted; I remember him from my youth as being a decent and kind person, but then I grew up and found out the truth.

  He smiles back but doesn’t say anything – a clear signal to move on.

  But I don’t want to move on. I have things to ask, more that I want to know. I want that decent man back, the one who would give me a few bucks each time we met, telling me to save it, to be wise – to be everything my dad wasn’t. I followed his advice, it seemed pretty simple but I never knew at the time that his generosity had such powerful messages attached: I was constantly being conditioned to think of my parents as inadequate. I think of them now but no bad thoughts come into my mind. Our separation has only served to remind me of how much I miss them; my dad’s reckless energy to achieve his next big thing and my mum’s grounded smile – they both worked together to mould me into who I am today.

  These thoughts make me desperate to succeed, to feel like I have somehow paid them back. My determination to find a way makes me take a deep breath. I wonder if this is the moment, if I still have enough in our mutually worn-out bank account to pull this off. I watch him going about his business, shuffling folders around his desk and checking figures on papers as if they hold the lost key to our future. Maybe they do but I can only think of my future, of what I want, and so I cough loudly, enough to make him look up for just a moment. ‘So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’

  He stares at me, his eyes narrowing, his keen mind no doubt already working this out. He could probably ask the question for me but he won’t. He won’t give me any help or mercy – it’s simply not his way.

  ‘I was wondering when my parents will be flying out here?’ I ask, watching for any reaction. ‘They still haven’t been told anything and I’m worried that time is running out.’

  He stops moving and stares at me. This isn’t what he wanted – not today, not now. ‘Henry, for heaven’s sake, how should I know this detail?’

  ‘I just thought–’

  ‘You thought that just because your father is my brother that I would pay him special attention for something as important as this project? And with everything going on today, with the entire fate of this project and thousands of people’s lives resting on these next few hours, you pick this moment to ask me?’

  I keep quiet, unable to answer, my mind finding it impossible to think of any reason he will understand. My entire purpose in being here, in becoming a hopeful survivor, is thanks to my parents and their love for me. It’s the only answer I can give, and it just happens to be the only one he will never understand.

  He moves around his desk so he can get closer and look down at me. ‘You know that my brother and I have never had a good relationship and now the world is falling apart he somehow wants to latch onto my success? I made it clear from the day you arrived here that this isn’t about family and that you need to prove your worth as my assistant, which doesn’t mean a place will ever be guaranteed for your parents. I will not allow emotions to get in the way of judgement and this outburst reminds me that you have as much to learn about family as you do corporate affairs. I’m glad your father gave you to me: I can at least try to fix you.’

  I want to shake my head to tell him he is wrong, that he will always be wrong to believe that family loyalty is not a part of who we are and where we come from. But I cannot say that, not to him and not right now, and so I nod and look down, not wanting to start another argument. ‘I just hope they make it onto the island.’

  He takes his glasses off and sits on the corner of his desk, taking a few moments to reply. This is uncharacteristic: normally, he would strike like the snake I know him to be. ‘The truth is that the list is still being finalised but I’m struggling to find an adequate reason for them to be a part of this. You know that in the new world everyone must have a purpose and useful abilities. The reality is that your mother is entirely unskilled and your father can
not pay a fraction of the cost for transport and entry.’

  I refuse to hear his words, how inaccurately and unfairly he is portraying things. ‘You weren’t there. You didn’t see how hard my mum worked to look after my sister until –’

  He holds up a hand, already shaking his head. ‘Please do not even start to play this card with me. What happened to your sister was very unfortunate and we all feel her loss but you cannot let the past control your future, and I will not be forced into making a rash decision.’

  I feel my mouth gaping open as the tears build, caused by both his bite and the memory of Jessie and her journey from health to hell. ‘You have no idea of the pain we went through and the sacrifice my mum made to look after her at home until the end.’

  He nods, almost like he is agreeing, as if he could know anything about this: he never visited and never offered to help. ‘That may be the case but we have little call for dedicated housewives in the new world, and add to this the fact that your father has failed at pretty much everything he has ever done. You can really see my dilemma about letting people up into paradise if they don’t have the skills to enable them to pay their way.’

  ‘Or the bags of money that are also accepted as payment?’

  He suddenly leaps from the desk, pushing and forcing me backwards, before grabbing hold of me. He grips my body tightly with both hands and drags me to the window, making me look outside. ‘My passion and singular understanding achieved this and just look at what I have created. I have not had the time or the energy to worry about what I cannot change or those who will burden the project. With my vision of an overcrowded planet and the need for something new, I have made it possible for us to create a better life for those who are daring enough to reach out and grab it.’ I choke for breath as he squeezes tighter. ‘Answer me this, Henry, will your parents ever be daring enough to reach for the sky as I have done?’