by Ryan Casey
But he just grabbed his daughter’s hand.
Grabbed her hand, and then pulled her away.
And then they were gone.
Holly looked down at Benny, then. She saw his face had gone even paler. His wincing was slowing. His breathing was at a much steadier pace. He’d lost a lot of blood.
She ran through the options in her mind. The wound—they had to stitch it together. But none of them were qualified to do so. And besides, there was the chance of infection, too.
But fuck infection. Benny was going to die if they did nothing to help him. They needed to try something—fast.
“We’re going to have to try and close the wound,” Holly said.
Gina, histrionic as ever, staggered from side to side. Kumal supported her. Harriet looked on, shock on her face.
“Guys!” Holly said. “We can’t just stand around here. We’ve got to try something. We’ve got to…”
She stopped talking, then.
Because she felt something tightening.
Benny’s hand on hers.
Tightening his grip.
She looked at him. Looked right into his eyes.
And in his expression—pale, pained—she saw something new. Something she hadn’t seen before.
Like he was looking at her in a completely different way.
“You… you be safe,” he said.
Holly sniffed up. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “You’re going to be okay, Benny.”
“No,” he said. “But you… you be safe. You look after… after…”
He stopped, then. And his eyes closed.
“Benny,” Holly said, her voice cracking, unable to keep her emotions and her resolve in check. “Benny, please.”
He opened his eyes again. And this time, there was something different entirely there.
There was no pain.
There was no struggling.
There was just a smile.
“Always liked you,” Benny said. “Always will. You keep dancing, Holly. You keep…”
He went to say “dancing” again.
But this time, his eyes closed again.
He let out a sigh, like he was just winding down, just relaxing.
And he gave Holly’s hand one final squeeze.
“Benny,” Holly said.
But then his squeeze loosened.
His hand dropped to the floor.
And his body went completely still.
As Holly crouched there, heart pounding, Benny by her side, she felt the whole world turning upside down once again.
“Holly?” Harriet said. “What—what’s happening?”
She looked up at Harriet, at the others, tears in her eyes, lump in her throat. “He’s gone,” she said. “Benny… Benny’s gone.”
Mike
Day Two
When Mike and Alison began their journey from the shop and out of the city, the sun was already up.
It was a pleasant day. Really nice, really bright. The birdsong was loud and peaceful. There was a light breeze, which made walking a lot easier. The further they walked from the suburbs and towards the fields, the more the smell of muck spreading from yesterday grew.
It was weird, wasn’t it? Just a day ago, everything had been moving along as normal. People all had their own little worries; their own problems that in the grand scheme of things, were insignificant.
But now, humanity had been brought together. It had been bound by the knowledge that something disastrous had happened. If there was any doubt in anyone’s minds that this blackout was serious in any way, surely now with the rising of the sun, they had been dispelled. Light cast a weird new perspective; a scary new reality.
Mike was sure that the blackout was the result of some kind of EMP yesterday, whether from a weapon or a solar attack.
But now… even his perspective of the whole scenario changed, now the world was in daylight.
The visit to the shop had been thankfully uneventful. Mike was surprised—and relieved—to find Amit working there way ahead of time. He grabbed a few things he knew he’d need for the road—a few protein bars, water canisters, things like that. He’d already gathered with him some things from home that he knew would come in handy. Spare clothes, a bug-out bag that he already had kitted out with most of the essentials, one of the things he did have prepared.
He’d paid Amit in food. He could’ve been cheeky and paid cash, but he liked Amit. He was somebody he could trust. He was a nice guy with a good family.
If there were anything he could do to help, he would.
But Amit had insisted on staying in his shop, locking it up and riding the crisis out.
Mike just had to hope that whatever happened, things worked out for the best for Amit.
The road ahead was filled with cars. It was a busy road anyway, but it was weird. Weird seeing cars just stopped in the middle of the road. Some of them had slammed into one another before they could do a thing about it. Others had overturned. There was a motorway bridge up ahead too, and the sides of it had smashed. Cars had spilled out from within.
“We need to watch our step,” Mike said. “There’s a good chance looting is in full force already.”
Alison frowned. Arya was by her side, on her lead. “People really sink to those lows right away?”
“You’re a police officer. You find that so hard to believe?”
Alison shrugged. “Fair point.”
They kept on moving. And the more they moved, the more creeped out Mike grew by his surroundings. The cars were abandoned mostly, although a few still had signs of life inside that made his skin crawl. Baby booster seats abandoned. People dead at the wheel, some of them seemingly through heart attacks rather than accidents. A whole world of unimaginable stories. Lives snuffed out with the click of a finger.
“We need to keep an eye out for stuff that’ll come in handy, too.”
“Are you suggesting we steal from people?”
“You can stand on your moral high ground all you like. These cars belong to all of us now, as far as I’m concerned. They’ve been abandoned. So if we see something we like—something that might actually help us—we take it. Speaking of which.”
Mike forced open the door of a car, which wasn’t locked. He lifted some dog treats from the back seat.
“Oh wow. Arya will love you for that.”
“I wasn’t thinking about Arya. They’ll be a handy snack. Keep our energy levels up.”
Alison’s face turned. “Really?”
Mike opened the packet. “They’re really nowhere near as bad as you’d think.”
He threw a couple of the dog treats into his mouth.
His face turned.
“You sure about that?”Alison asked.
Mike spat the treats onto the ground, which Arya rushed to demolish. “Okay, maybe they really are as bad as you’d think.”
They walked further down the road. Mike looked at the houses either side of him. There was a weird mix of behaviour. Some of the people inside were just sitting around like nothing serious was occurring. Others had their windows boarded up already. And other houses already looked empty. Some of them even looked looted.
“So tell me again about where in this ominous ‘countryside’ we’re heading to.”
Mike smiled when Alison said the words. You know where I’ll go. He remembered the place they used to go to as a family. Him, Caitlin, and Holly, every few months. The rocky cliffs on Beacon Fell, a hill just outside of Preston. The hill where the paragliders flew off; where microlights departed. It was sheltered. There was a low key campsite nearby. It was a little slice of paradise, which just the three of them seemed to have for themselves so many times.
“I know the place. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“But if something happens to you. I suppose I do have to worry.”
Mike stopped. Every now and then, he heard the cracking in Alison’s voice. Heard the struggle, like she was doing her best to stave off t
he grief. “How’re you holding up?”
“Ups and downs, to be honest,” Alison said, taking a swig of water. “But honestly, I think this whole end of the world as we know it is helping me keep my mind off things. They say distraction really is the best cure for all life’s ills.”
“Not all life’s ills,” Mike said.
“Oh yeah. Tell me one area where distraction doesn’t help.”
“Not wanting to be distracted.”
“Fair point.”
They walked further. And as they did, they saw the wreckage from the fallen cars on the motorway bridge right away. There was broken glass and metal everywhere. And even worse, there was meat. And blood.
“Yeah,” Mike said, covering his mouth. “Best if we just move on.”
They walked further. But as they did, the more uneasy Mike grew about this whole thing. Because the telegraph poles seemed to have fallen down all the way along this street. And they were approaching a bridge. And for some reason, Mike didn’t hold out much hope for this bridge.
“I just wish I’d got a chance to say a proper goodbye,” Alison said.
It came from nowhere. Mike turned around. Saw her staring into space.
“What?”
“My mum. I’d give anything to have been able to say a proper goodbye.”
She sighed, then kept on walking.
As she did, Mike realised something. As hard and painful as it was, he was grateful he’d been able to hold Caitlin’s hand when she’d died. He was grateful he’d been able to say goodbye. He was grateful her death hadn’t come as an outright shock. He had to be.
He kept on walking, Alison by his side.
But when he reached the bridge, the pair of them stopped.
The bridge had collapsed. It looked like something had flown into it. And it didn’t take Mike long to realise it was an air ambulance.
He looked down at the drop below. Then at the bridge, which was barely holding itself together.
Then he looked at Alison, who seemed just as bewildered as him.
“Any chance you’re a pro at climbing?” Alison said.
Mike wished he could say he was.
John Walker hadn’t had any luck this past fifteen, sixteen years.
But after the shit that went down yesterday, he was definitely making the most of the changing situation.
It was a beautiful morning. The kind of morning a homeless guy like him always longed for. Sun in the sky. Birds singing. Peaceful. Real peaceful.
Of course, no day was ideal as a homeless guy. There was no nice way of dressing up the fact he lived on the streets. But if he could choose between being drenched to the skin or the gentle warmth of the sun, it wasn’t even a contest.
He looked around at the fallen jet. He still couldn’t quite believe what’d happened. He’d been sitting there on the streets last night, begging for money. A nice woman had just given him a few of her fries. And then suddenly, the lights had just gone out. Not only that, but people dropped dead in the streets. Not many of them—just one or two. But that nice woman was one of them.
He’d gone over to her. Tried to help her. But it was no use. He could tell right away she was gone.
So he’d been sure to take her purse. Why let a good bit of cash go to waste, after all? That’d be criminal.
He’d seen other things, too. Madness he couldn’t believe. Stuff that made him think he was hallucinating, finally losing his mind after so many years on the streets, so many nights of sleep deprivation and cold, so long of being let down by the system. He’d seen planes falling from the sky. He’d seen cars slamming into one another; people’s bodies flying out of the windscreens.
But above anything, the thing that stuck with him was the sound.
The sudden sound of silence.
Like a switch had just been clicked off.
And that strange sense of peace—that strange sense of comfort—that came with it.
John had walked his way out of town. And it didn’t take him long to realise that whatever had happened, it was serious. Damned serious. There’d been some kind of mass blackout. But it wasn’t the normal kind. It seemed like it’d affected cars, planes and phones too. Even affected some people. He didn’t know why it was, not really. He could only assume from science lessons at school that it was to do with the electricity in people’s hearts. Everyone’s bodies had electrical currents running through them, after all. Who was to say they wouldn’t be affected by some kind of mass blackout, too? We were just machines, after all.
The night had passed. John expected things to get back in order by the morning. It always did, after all. Homeless people got forgotten about, but the people in charge didn’t forget about themselves. But remarkably, after the best night’s sleep in a long time, he woke to find out that the power was still out.
He smirked a little when he walked through the streets, past the abandoned cars and the uninviting-looking houses. After all, everyone was homeless now, in a sense. Everyone would know what it was like to be in his shoes.
He wasn’t innocent. He wouldn’t even pretend otherwise. The vast bulk of homeless people are just people who’ve fallen into unfortunate, unlucky circumstances. But he’d been a shit as a kid. He’d stolen things, beat people up. And in the end, it was his drug habit that caught up with him.
Speaking of which… that itch. The urge to get a hit. It was growing—fast.
If a world without power went on, where would that leave his drug habit?
What would he do without his smack?
He took a few deep snorts, tried to steady himself. After all, he had other things to focus on right now. Namely the ruins of the airplane before him.
He could see broken up bodies, and the sight made him want to puke. He’d desensitised himself to a lot of things on the streets. To survive without a roof over your head, it required strength and resolve. It required the ability to switch off in the most horrible of situations.
But this… this was something else. This was unexpected. This was grim.
He looked around for a sight of things he could take. Remarkably, some mobile phones were still intact. And even though they weren’t working, when the power did come back, he’d have plenty to sell in order to keep him alive on the streets; to keep his drug habit funded.
He saw hand luggage, too. Jewellery, some of them still attached to the dismembered arms of the passengers who had fallen in this plane.
And as grim as it was, as much sympathy as he felt for the people who’d died in this crash, he didn’t view what he was doing as “stealing from victims.”
He viewed it as asset redistribution. Recycling.
After all, a severed arm and a caved-in skull wasn’t going to be able to do all that much with an iPhone X now, was it?
He picked up a bright, shiny diamond ring from the end of a charred finger. And when he lifted it, he thought about Sally. His ex-wife. His biggest love. A time in his life that seemed like so long ago. A time when he actually had his shit together.
He’d loved Sally. Loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone.
So when she left him, it broke John. It tore down his resolve.
She’d picked him up from a bad path. When she left him, it’d put him straight back on that path—and the slope was even more slippery than ever before.
He looked at that ring, remembered the time he’d proposed to her.
Then he threw it aside.
Because there could be no time for sappiness anymore.
There could be no time for reminiscing.
He went to reach for another item of intact jewellery when he heard the voices up ahead.
He looked up. Froze.
And when he saw them, he couldn’t help feeling a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth.
Two people. A man, a woman, and a pretty neat looking dog.
They looked clean. Healthy. Like they were privileged.
“Oh, I’ll show you privilege,” John said, eyeing up t
heir bags of supplies.
He reached for a sharp shard of metal from the ground below.
Then he stepped out of their sight, out of their eye-line.
It was time to stop leeching.
It was time to start fighting.
Holly
Day Two
Holly’s first night on the streets was far more painful than she could ever have imagined.
She didn’t think she’d slept that well. Spent half the night tossing and turning. She didn’t really want to take a break, but Kumal insisted. They’d had no sleep. They were going to exhaust themselves. And if they didn’t rest, they were going to burn out.
Holly knew there was another motive for Kumal’s insistence that they take a break. He wanted to wait for morning to come around to see if anything changed with regards to the power.
At first, when Holly opened her eyes, she swore she heard a humming. She swore she heard that buzz of electricity. And she still held the slim hope that maybe, just maybe, the power had returned.
But it hadn’t. She opened her eyes, looked around the trees surrounding her, saw the shopping centre in the distance, and she just knew.
She could feel it.
Which meant everything that happened yesterday wasn’t a nightmare after all.
The sun shone between the trees. It was a nice morning, by any standards. But obviously things had changed now. There were no nice mornings, not when you’d spent the night sleeping in the woods, the fallen branches digging into your skin. Even the warmest nights still felt chilly without the cover of a blanket.
They’d got some supplies of course. But they hadn’t left with everything they’d wanted. There were still things Holly knew they needed.
But after what’d happened to Benny… things had changed.
She looked around. Kumal and Harriet were fast asleep. But Gina was leaning over by a tree just in the distance.
Holly got up. Walked over towards her.
And as she got closer, she realised she could smell something.
Vomit.
“You okay?” Holly asked.
