The End: An Apocalyptic Novel

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The End: An Apocalyptic Novel Page 9

by Matt Shaw


  Jane just hoped she had the strength to see this through at least.

  What if you do beat the cancer?

  It had crossed her mind. A thought that she had even though it was fleeting. What if she did beat the cancer and she had pushed him away and he had met someone else? It’s all down to the game of ‘what-if’ again. She didn’t think she would beat it and even if she did - she would be worried it would come back. Her husband would be too even if he pretended he wasn’t. The moment she got ill again (no matter the reason), he would be on her case to get down to the doctors’ surgery to get checked out. That’s the problem… Half the time, when you beat cancer… You never truly beat it. It’s always there, in the background threatening to come back again.

  He’d be better off with someone else.

  It wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be better off with someone else. He wouldn’t want this splitting the family up but Jane didn’t see that. Her mind had been set and now all she wanted to do was get home and put it in action. The sooner she got it out of the way, the sooner she could concentrate on what the doctor told her and what she needed to do next.

  I I I

  The cartoon channel playing on Jane and Luke’s bedroom television set had Harry distracted enough to allow Luke the necessary time to fill a small bag of clothes. Tomorrow Luke was leaving for his brother’s house in preparation for his wife’s funeral. He knew that, if he packed his bits now, it would be easier to get going in the morning. Especially if Jane packed tonight too. Then it just meant packing Harry’s bit and bobs in the morning - a task in itself!

  The case was used for toiletries, spare underwear, a change of clothes and adapters for various electrical items (such as his mobile phone). It was only half-full but he knew that wasn’t a problem as Jane would soon fill the empty space, as well as a second case no doubt even though they were only going for two nights. His black suit, recently purchased specially for the funeral, hung in a suit-bag over the back of the door to stop it from getting creased. Thankfully Jane already had a black dress so no further purchases had been necessary.

  “Hi.” Jane’s voice from the doorway made Luke jump. With the television blasting various cartoon voices and Luke so wrapped up in what he was doing, he hadn’t heard the front door open and close again. Harry turned to her for a moment - a beaming smile on his face - but was soon distracted by the television again.

  “How’d it go?” Luke cut to the chase, acting as though he hadn’t been startled. He noticed the concerned expression on her face - one he hadn’t seen before. “You alright?”

  Just as Luke had cut to the chase, so did Jane. She took a breath before, “I’m leaving you…”

  He didn’t answer. He just stood there a moment, a dumbstruck look on his face which was understandable. Before she left, he had said that he loved her and she had replied with the same. Now she was saying she wanted to leave him!

  “What?”

  “I want a divorce…”

  “Hang on. You went to the doctors and…”

  “I wasn’t with the doctor.”

  “No? Then who were you with?” Luke tried his best not to start shouting. Not with Harry sitting a few feet away. No need to needlessly upset him.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes. I think it does.”

  “I’ve been seeing someone else.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Look I’m tired. I just want you to leave…”

  “I’m not going to just leave. I want answers. You can’t just come in and tell me you want a fucking divorce. It doesn’t work like that. I deserve to know why. I deserve that, don’t I? After all these years of marriage and the fact we have a son together…”

  “Please just go.”

  Luke stood there a moment unsure of what to say. He could see by her face that she didn’t want to talk about it, despite him desperately wanting to. He had never seen her like this before now and wasn’t sure how best to deal with it.

  “We need to talk about this,” he said eventually.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t love you anymore.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No. Really. I don’t.”

  “You can’t just turn the emotion off. We’ve been happy. We laugh together. The sex life is good…”

  Jane cut him off, “I don’t love you anymore. I love him.”

  “Who?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  “It does to me!” He stopped talking. They were both standing there in a silence filled by shrilled cartoon voices babbling to each other on the television. Harry laughed, turned to his parents, said something in near gibberish and then turned back to the television again - completely absorbed. Luke glanced down to the suitcase and remembered he needed to go to his brother’s tomorrow. “We need to go to David’s tomorrow…”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  Luke sighed. He wanted his family there. Not just for him but to show support for his brother too but - given the turn of events - he felt it might be better if she wasn’t present. David had enough on his plate. “I have to go,” he told her.

  “I’m not stopping you,” she said, so cold.

  “We’ll talk when you’ve had a chance to calm down.” He said, “We’ll talk when I get home.” He paused a moment. “You will be here, won’t you?”

  She shrugged.

  “For our son… For all the good times we have had together… I’m begging you to be here when I get back. At least let us have a proper conversation about this. Let me try and fix it and if you still want to leave… I won’t stop you.” He was trying to be reasonable but there was no chance he wasn’t going to fight for her. She was his wife and he loved her despite how cold she was being now. She answered him with another shrug. Luke could tell he wasn’t going to get anywhere by talking to her now. He just hoped that she would be a little more open to conversation on his return.

  That night Luke slept on the sofa, the spare duvet burying him from his recent troubles. Jane stayed in the bedroom but she didn’t sleep. She laid on her side, tears streaming from her eyes as she thought of what the future held for her.

  T O D A Y

  Chapter Fifteen

  I rolled the car to a stop where several other cars had been abandoned by the side of the road. I still had a little fuel in the tank but there was nowhere near enough to get me back to where Morgan and Elise lived. At least by parking it here, I was close enough to other cars that I’d be able to jump-start - once I found the relevant car keys and a pair of jump-leads that is. Hopefully one of the cars - previously left to rust - would be drivable and, better yet, have enough fuel to get me back to a new life with my family and good neighbours. I’d see my wife and my boy first and then - when I’ve settled in and rested - I’ll start searching the nearby houses for car keys.

  Should have learned to hot-wire a car.

  I can’t believe how much easier the trip had been with a car but then - I had known it would be. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t tried every car I passed by whilst on this journey.

  I switched the engine off and sat back in the driver’s seat. Tired, I couldn’t take my eyes away from the house a little further down the road. My house. Long grass and weeds up to the downstairs window and ivy strangling the building’s frame but - other than that - it was just as I remembered. I couldn’t help but smile as my eyes started to fill. Not tears of sadness but tears of joy.

  Joy?

  I feel sick I’m so nervous.

  Nerves or the beginnings of radiation poisoning?

  The last time Jane and I spoke it hadn’t been friendly. It had been far from it. What if she still felt the same? What if she wasn’t even living there anymore? Maybe she had moved on and found a small community somewhere? Something I dreamed of setting up with Morgan and Elise and any other good people that happened to pass our way. After all - not everyone out here is bad. Morgan and Elise reminded me of that. There will b
e more people like Morgan and Elise, just trying to survive.

  And the people sent back on the boats, exiled from the States - well, they’re not all bad either. Some of them are just scared - wanting to get answers that will never come. We can invite people to this community and we can test them. Make sure they’re not damaged beyond repair by what they’ve been through and had to do to survive… A safe place for us to live our lives and raise our families.

  Still stalling.

  I can’t move on with plans for the future without facing the present.

  I opened the car door and climbed out. My joints clicked as I stretched out the journey from my bones. Leaning back in, I grabbed the rucksack and slung it back over my shoulder. I slammed the car door and just stood there a moment unsure as to whether I could actually do this.

  Of course you can. This is what you came back for.

  It wasn’t easy to take the next step though. My son would be about seven now. There was no way he would remember who I was. And Jane. Well, as mentioned, the last time we spoke…

  Stop overthinking it. This is what you came back for.

  I took a couple of deep breaths and my first tentative steps towards the property. More questions going through my mind - the main one now being, do I knock or do I just go in? It’s my house, I can just go in. But it’s been so long so out of politeness, I should knock… Barging in, I might scare her. If she is even still living there. I need to know.

  I quickened my pace right up to the front door and - there - hesitated again with my hand raised up to the wooden panel.

  What do I say?

  I took another deep breath and knocked, gently at first and then harder. My heart is hurting it is beating so hard and the sickness in my gut is back with a vengeance. Not a good start, having her open the door only for me to throw up on the floor at her feet. Come on, come on, please just open the door now. Let’s get this over with.

  I knocked again - harder still.

  She doesn’t live here anymore.

  With a shaking hand, and that horrible feeling of hope slipping away, I turned the door handle. To my surprise, it opened - creaking as I pushed it as far open as possible. It banged against the metal radiator.

  “Hello?” I called out. I froze, listening (hoping) for a response.

  Crying.

  Someone is crying.

  “Jane?”

  The crying was coming from somewhere upstairs. I hurried up them, across the landing - following the sounds towards my old bedroom. Pained sobs from my wife. Just get me in there. Let me hold her in my arms. Let me tell her, whispering in her ear, that everything is going to be okay now and that I am home. I’m back for her and I love her more than she could ever know…

  I pushed the door open. Jane suddenly screamed - as did I when I sat what was in her hand – as she dragged a sharp pair of scissors across her neck, cutting her throat wide open. As she gagged and as the blood sprayed out she dropped the scissors as her eyes fixed upon mine in the mirror’s reflection. I screamed again as I charged over to where she was sitting by the make-up table, just in time to catch her as she fell off - too weak to sit up anymore. Her hands were on her throat, trying to stem the spray of blood. I put my hands on top of hers.

  “It’s okay, honey It’s okay… I’ve got you.”

  Her eyes were wide with fear, pain and sorrow.

  I couldn’t help but to cry as tears rolled from her eyes too, “I’ve got you…” I repeated over and over again… I noticed my son - our son - on the floor… His eyes lifeless, staring ahead. Blood around his body. “What have you done?” I screamed at her. “What have you fucking done?” She didn’t answer me. As her eyes fixed in place, she gagged one last time. “What have you done?” I wept. She would never answer me. I screamed as loud as I could, holding her close to me.

  I closed my eyes unable to look at her or my son, tears continuing to stream down my face as I thought of all the time she had been here, struggling and I had been over there wasting time in trying to get home. Had I been quicker, had I pushed them at the camp more - I could have got home sooner. I could have prevented this from happening! I should have just got myself exiled! I would have been back here straight away. Why the fuck didn’t I just do that? I could have made everything better. I could have stopped this. I could have been living with my family. I needn’t have ever been away from them… I screamed out again as the frustration and sense of loss become too much to contain. I wasted so much time and for what? I’ve lost everything!

  Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

  I let go of her body and let her drop to the floor. I shouldn’t have ever left. When she had asked for a divorce. I shouldn’t have ever left. I should have stayed at home. I should have talked things through with her. I should have fixed my relationship.

  I could have stopped this.

  Looking away from the two bodies - my family - I noticed a stack of letters piled up on the side of the make-up table. Each one sealed in an envelope. Each one with her handwriting across them. My name spelt in a messy scrawl as though written whilst the hand flowed with heavy, uncontrollable emotion.

  For Luke.

  I reached across and took a hold of them with a shaking, blood stained hand. All this time she had been thinking of me? I could only begin to imagine the contents.

  I I

  The scissors were on one side of the dining room table. The letters - opened - were on the other. I was sitting at the head of the table, just staring ahead. My mind was all over the place from what I had read.

  Should have learned not to read sealed letters.

  Not sure how long I have been sitting here. Hours. Definitely hours but I couldn’t tell you how many. I had been in two minds as to whether I should read them or not. Once again torn between reading a fucking letter or not. Nothing left to lose though. My life had been heading for the end ever since I left America. This - what I’ve walked into… This is The End. I have nothing left to live for. I understand why my brother wrote that letter to his wife. I understand how my wife must have felt to do what she had done. Having read the letters, how she went this long without giving up sooner I’ll never know. A braver person than me.

  The letters detailed her illness. She wrote of a doctor who was caring for her these last few years, giving her the treatment that she needed to prolong her life as much as possible until the day he stopped coming. She presumed he succumbed to radiation poison but it’s something I will never know for sure. At least - for a while - she had someone looking after her though. At least someone was coming by the house and caring for her in my place. I’ll forever be grateful for that at least. I’m not sure if I’ll be grateful for what else she wrote though; the fact that she loved me and never stopped.

  She had told me she wanted a divorce because she didn’t want me suffering, seeing her go through the treatment. She wanted me to be happy and yet knew I never could be all the time I was watching her go through that… Especially if she were to die from it too. Knowing she loved me all this time though, knowing she wanted me here and had only hidden from being evacuated because she didn’t want to go without me… A decision she regretted because of our son. She wished she had left. She might have - would have - still died but he would have been safe at least even if it wasn’t with his dad but - instead - someone caring for him in my place. One letter in particular stating how she feared I was never coming home and that how everything could have been different had she just got on the bus along with everyone else. She was panicked. She was confused. She made a mistake. It made me sick to the stomach. All this pain she suffered with for the time we were apart, how scared she must have been… I should have been here. I could have been here. So many bad decisions delaying me. Oh God.

  God? How many more times? He’s dead.

  Everyone I know is dead. My son, my wife, my brother, his wife… There is nothing to live for. Without thinking I picked up the scissors and put them to my own throat. I’m done. There is no poi
nt anymore.

  “Wait!”

  David?

  How?

  B E F O R E

  D A V I D

  Chapter Sixteen

  David’s heart wasn’t beating as hard as he thought it would have been. There was no adrenaline flowing through his body. If anything he felt calmer than he had done for a long, long time. This reaction, or lack of reaction at least, simply confirmed to him that he was doing the right thing.

  He got up from the ground where he’d been crouched, watching the guard. The time had come. The bus had come and gone with the bag he’d sent for his brother and he was done. He had come as far as he wanted to. Without waiting to ensure there weren’t people around who could have got hurt, David hurried back over to the guard.

  The guard spotted him and called out, “It’s gone. Can’t promise it will get much further than that but it has definitely left.”

  “I saw, thank you. I really appreciate it.” David reached the guard, “And I’m really sorry about this.”

  “What?”

  David swung a hard punch that caught the guard by surprise, knocking him down to the ground. Before he had a chance to get up, or even defend himself, David leaned down and snatched the pistol from the guard’s holster. He aimed it at the man’s forehead and the guard responded by putting his hands in the air and immediately backing up.

 

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