Apocalyptic Fears II: Select Bestsellers: A Multi-Author Box Set

by Greg Dragon

  Poor kid.

  He walked back into the kitchen, Aiden still standing there, the most pitiful sight he had ever seen. It nearly broke his heart. He had to leave.

  “I’m sorry, I took one.”

  “One? One what?”

  “A drink. One of your cans. I took a Pepsi,” said Aiden guiltily.

  “Haha, don’t worry about it, you deserve it. You deserve a lot more for helping me out. I’m sorry, but bye.”

  He was out the back door before he had to look at the poor boy again, but there was no choice. Through the gate and down the road, furtively looking around, checking for his pursuers.

  Where are they?

  They could be anywhere, they could be coming around the corner right now. He should run, it’s what he did wasn’t it? Run. That was his life now, but there was more, not everything had turned sour. There were smart young kids that would trust you, share their food, and look at you with such sad eyes...

  Just run.

  WAIT

  Here they come.

  Footsteps were not far behind him. He should have just kept running the night before, gone as far as he possibly could until he collapsed. But how far would he have got? He should have done it anyway, rather than walking into somebody else’s home and saving his body from the torture for a while. Still, he’d had food, met Aiden. But one egg, nice as it was, simply wasn’t fuel enough for him to be able to keep on going at full speed indefinitely.

  He ran faster, ripping open at the seams as the scabs that had formed through the night split and oozed. His body was a chrysalis, tearing open; maybe inside there was something beautiful? A butterfly waiting to dream of being a man for a day before it died?

  You’re losing it Edsel, get a grip.

  Footsteps grew louder.

  I’m going to get caught, they’re going to get me this time. No way can I just keep on running.

  “Wait, wait for me.”

  Edsel turned. It was Aiden.

  Has he got a chicken with him? He has. He’s got Martha with him.

  He couldn’t help himself, he smiled. It was so comical, yet so damn sad at the same time, that he wanted to scoop the boy up in his arms, hug him tight and tell him everything would be all right. But a chicken. C’mon.

  “What do you think you’re doing? I told you to stay home. You can’t be out here, and not with a chicken.”

  A chicken!

  “Where I go, Martha goes,” said Aiden defiantly, the poor bird tucked tightly under the boys arm, wrapped in a towel by the looks of it, so it wouldn’t flap away.

  “You can’t go on the run with a chicken.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because... Because it’s a chicken, that’s why.”

  That made sense, right?

  “Well, I’m coming. Please, I don’t want to be alone any more. Dad left almost a year ago, I haven’t got anyone. I want to come.”

  It was exasperating, he couldn’t take the boy. He’d have to make him go home. It was too dangerous, he’d be a liability — get them all killed. Well, maybe not the chicken. “You can’t come. Go home. I don’t want you, you’ll get me killed. Yourself too.” He had to be harsh, it was for the boy’s own good. “Aw, c’mon, don’t cry, it’s for your own safety. I’ll be back.”

  “You won’t,” sniffed Aiden. “You’ll go and never come back and leave me alone forever, until I get The Lethargy and just die and Martha’s eggs will pile up and then she’ll die too as there is nobody to look after her.”

  I can’t believe this, I’m on the run from maniacs and I’m arguing over chickens and he simply can’t come.

  There was a car coming down the street, fast. It was them. No more time, the decision was made.

  Edsel grabbed Aiden by the arm and started to run. “Come on, fast. Faster, they’ll kill us.”

  “Martha!” The towel fell from Aiden’s arms as they started to run. Martha flapped about noisily until she was free of her fluffy prison and ran around wildly, right into the road.

  Squawk.

  “Martha!”

  “We have to go. Move. Now.”

  They ran, both turning to see the car closing on them fast. The chicken was still alive. It must have gone right under the car.

  Lucky bugger.

  “Faster. There, over there.” Edsel pointed to a playground, tall grass partially hiding swings and climbing frames probably not used in years.

  That’s got to be the saddest thing I’ve seen in my whole damn life.

  Sun glinted off the slide, mocking the degradation and the abandoned hope for a future that would never be alive with the laughter of children.

  No more kids. Well, there’s one at least. He’s your responsibility now Edsel, you have to look after him, no choice now dude. None at all.

  They ran for the playground, the green metal fencing meaning the car couldn’t follow. The fields beyond, once used daily by regular folk walking their dogs, now as deserted as the rest of the country — the rest of the world.

  “Faster.”

  Pain blinded Edsel to everything but running. The scabs had formed a tight seal over most of his body through the night, wrapping him as tight as a mummy, the skin ripping and cracking as the sudden movements opened up wound after wound, his clothes rubbing the dry itching skin, tearing off long peels of thick poisoned flesh like pork crackling as they ran for all their worth toward the silent playground, the swings still, nothing but ghosts left.

  All that remained were dead children, forgotten by parents lost to The Lethargy, searching for adults in the only place they could think of to look once they were all alone.

  “Don’t look,” said Edsel, trying to avoid the partially eaten or skeletal remains of a number of children and a few adults too by the look if it.

  “It’s okay. I live here, I’ve seen it all before.”

  God, what a world to be a kid in. When I was his age I hadn’t even known anyone that had died, let alone seen the corpses of children eaten by dogs. I don’t think I’d even lost a goldfish.

  They ran fast through the playground, dodging bodies, knocking aside empty bottles and cans, pausing only to open the child-proof gate at the far end. They were out into fields now, gaining some distance on whoever had been in the car. Edsel risked a glance backward.

  Damn, four of them now, they’ve got reinforcements.

  He picked up the pace but Aiden could only go so fast, his young legs not up to the same speed as Edsel.

  This is going to be a problem. Poor kid, what have I got him into?

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  “Eh? What?”

  Did he just read my mind.

  “A little, sorry about that. Daddy always said it was rude to do it, but when I’m excited it just kind of happens. Sorry.”

  “You’re Awoken then? Naturally? Never mind, come on, let’s get out of here.”

  They kept on running.

  The field was knee-high for Edsel and higher for Aiden so they had to slow, but at least they were getting away. Their trousers were getting wet, the rains through the night ensuring everything was damp as usual. His legs began to hurt at a new level as the grass brushed against the material, seed heads pricking him like a replay of the chase of the day before.

  What now? Where can we go? This is getting real old. Will there never be any goddamn motherf—

  “That way, over there,” said Aiden, pointing toward a series of high-rise monstrosities — a failed housing project from the eighties, one of the few not demolished before The Lethargy put a halt to the hope of re-homing people into a better way of life.

  “Okay, it’s as good as any other direction.”

  Like things aren’t depressing enough already.

  Running. Always running. Edsel felt like he’s spent his life running, splitting apart just like the Converse had.

  Empty inside.

  ***

  It was a maze of concrete walkways connecting giant crumbling concrete cof
fins to each other. There were bridges, sloped curving walkways that connected to a small shopping precinct that held a convenience store, a post office, the ubiquitous liquor store and betting shops. All smashed now, the booze gone before the food from the Spar next door.

  Aiden seemed to know his way around pretty well, leading them up a walkway that rose up to the entrance to one of the fifteen story high-rises. Inside the broken doors were piles of refuse — as far as most people had bothered to take their trash once it was no longer collected. It stank. There were obviously dead animals of all description and all states of decomposition within the mountain of discarded remains of humanity trying its best to hang on to life. Inevitably unsuccessfully in most cases.

  “I used to come here, looking for people, before it got too dangerous. Before somebody tried to take me. A man, a horrible man that tried to—“

  “It’s okay, it’s safe now.”

  Who are you trying to kid Edsel. Safe, my arse.

  “I know. I, um, I killed him.”

  Edsel stopped and stared at the boy. “You what?”

  “I used my powers, what Daddy said was because I was Awoken. I went into his mind and saw the things he wanted to do to me; I made him smash his head against the wall, that one there.” Aiden pointed at a dark smear staining the depressing, graffiti covered brickwork. “I didn’t mean to kill him, but he banged his head and then he was dead.”

  “Well, I’m sure he deserved it,” grunted Edsel. “Where to now Batman.”

  “Batman? Who’s Batman?”

  Poor kid, I guess he’s too young for a lot of things. He would have been what, five when The Lethargy happened?

  “Nevermind. Where to?”

  “That way.” Edsel followed the boy’s finger. It pointed at a door that had mesh enforced glass which led to a narrow balcony running along the outside of the first floor of the high-rise, where people had to walk to get to their front doors.

  What a place to live. Why would anyone think this was a good idea? They started falling down as soon as they built them.

  They went through the door and along the balcony. At the end was a connecting walkway that took them over a road and up to another level of what appeared to be a large car park.

  “We can get into the bigger shopping center that way, it’s the car park for it.”

  “Okay, great. Let’s go.”

  What am I gonna do with him? I can’t just let him be chased with me. Damn, can he hear this? Can you hear this?

  Edsel turned and looked at Aiden, who seemed to be pointedly not looking at him.

  Yeah, you can.

  “Sorry.”

  SHOPPING

  They had to be careful. Edsel knew from experience that shopping centers were some of the most dangerous areas in the city. The desperate, the hungry and the plain bored seemed to congregate in such places. Hoping to find clothes not already stolen, gadgets of all description, the most precious commodity of all: batteries. He’d seen two men fight until one killed the other just over a Duracell, they were that important to people now.

  I hate these places, they were always weird even before The Lethargy.

  Edsel had an intense dislike for the soulless shopping centers that sprang up what seemed like every week all over the city, a never-ending supply of people popping into existence to take advantage of free parking and the escape from the weather. He always felt out of place, like he didn’t belong. Now it was just depressing.

  The place was eerie. The small amount of natural light from filthy opaque skylights turned it into dusk as soon as they entered. He winced at the reminder of the once overtly consumerist society he would give anything to go back too — heck, he’d even happily wander the crowded walkways, smiling sweetly as people bumped into him and then stared at him like it was his fault. The wide cream tiled floor was littered with all manner of useless consumer goods, old food wrappers, cups and general trash, just thrown to the ground after the bins spilled over, people muttering under their breath about the lack of cleanliness yet still making it worse rather than taking their empty wrappers home with them.

  Edsel remembered coming to places like this as The Lethargy did its work. Every week it got worse and worse. Fewer stores open, the trash piling up, smoking bans forgotten by those lucky enough to have grabbed a stash of any brand of cigarette they were able to steal without getting killed. Risking an all-out attack by those watching green with envy as they sucked down their nicotine, eyes darting about warily yet unable to stop a vice that let them forget about life for a split-second when the nicotine hit the spot.

  Fights and arguments escalated in intensity as confusion mounted. Those open for business didn’t want money any longer — what use was it when the banks weren’t open and there was nothing to do with the money anyway? Bartering became extreme; traffic in people increased. Many would sell their family or friends for little more than a meal or a pair of new shoes. He’d actually seen two men arguing over a young girl while the mother stood by gulping down a bottle of precious wine they’d given her in exchange for what was obviously acts the girl wanted no part in.

  It all got really bad; then society totally collapsed. Store owners couldn’t stop the looting any longer, how could they? People took what they wanted, windows were smashed and the stores were ransacked until nothing of use was left. A free-for-all with no meaning, goods stolen that were never taken out of the box once they were taken home, or dropped in the streets as the thieves lost themselves in the haze of Lethargy before they even made it home to their houses — where the fridge was empty, the cupboards were bare and their children starved.

  Did we deserve this? Maybe we did.

  As they crunched down the open spaces, marching past broken, once state-of-the-art TVs and all kinds of digital equipment now useless, the bodies began to pile up in earnest. People lost to The Lethargy, their final days spent in a fugue until they died, often stripped of their clothes and belongings by those still with their wits about them. They weren’t all dead though, they walked right past a few people that had obviously only recently succumbed, just sat on the floor, eyes staring vacantly at nothing as the life slowly seeped out of them. There was nothing they could do about it, there was no hope for them.

  Just like there hadn’t been any hope for his own family. His mother was lost mercifully quickly, but it took his sister over a year before she finally faded into nothingness — then Edsel was young, alone and scared, but he survived, made it through. It was like going back in time, staring at the young boy by his side. At least he’d been older when things turned bad, he couldn’t imagine having coped with any of it at the age of twelve.

  Brave boy, and Awoken too.

  ***

  “No. Way.”

  Aiden beamed at Edsel, chewing away on his own sandwich. “You like?” he said, crumbs spitting out of his mouth.

  “Oh boy, best sandwich ever. Where’d they come from?” Edsel couldn’t believe his eyes when the boy pulled out a container of sandwiches from the backpack he’d brought with him. It was a peanut butter sandwich and the best thing he had tasted in his entire life. Well, maybe the egg was, but this sure as hell came in a close second.

  “I made them. We had a huge stockpile of all kinds of stuff, but this was nearly the last of it all, the last of the peanut butter, the last of everything.”

  Another mouthful, fuel finally recharging his energy reserves. “But the bread, how’d you get bread?”

  Staring at him in confusion, Aiden said, “I made it.”

  “You? You made bread?”

  “Sure, it’s easy. We had sacks of flour; I make it all the time.”

  “Well, I’ll be... Good job dude, best bread ever.”

  Aiden smiled like he’d won a prize and sat happily munching away on the rest of his food. Not to seem ungracious Edsel pulled two cans from his backpack and offered both hands to the boy. “Which one, Pepsi or Pepsi?”

  The kids a good sport. He’s playing along.
Very trusting too. I wouldn’t trust me, look at me.

  Edsel looked at his outstretched arms, sleeves rolled back over tortured forearms.

  God, what a nightmare.

  With the look of a boy with a real hard decision to make, Aiden frowned deep in concentration. “Hmm, now let me see, Pepsi or Pepsi, such a difficult decision.” He brightened. “I think... yes, definitely, I’ll take the Pepsi.”

  “Good choice my man.” Edsel passed the drink and the sound of two ring-pulls giving up their fizzy delights echoed through the empty space, a tiny hint of temporary happiness amid the madness.

  They both took a deep drink.

  “Good?”

  “Good,” confirmed Aiden.

  “Look, we can rest for five, but then we have to go again. They’ll take a while to find us, but they will. What happened? To you I mean. To your dad? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. What about your mom?”

  “That’s okay, I don’t mind. I wish we still had Martha though.”

  He really thought a lot of that chicken. Totally understandable, poor kid’s been alone all this time. Just like I was.

  “Sorry about that, she’ll be okay though. Bet she’s off digging up some garden right now, eating juicy worms and slugs.”

  “Ugh, gross.”

  “Right?”

  “And I can warn you, you know?”

  “Warn me?”

  “About those men, the ones chasing you. I can help, told you I could. I can sense them: people. I know if someone is coming if I really concentrate and open up, go into The Noise a little bit. That’s what my dad called it anyway: The Noise.”

  “That’s right, but you sure? Sure it’s safe for you?”

  “Oh yes, totally. I could even make them do things if they got close enough, well, one anyway. I can’t do more than one at a time.”