by Ryan Casey
“Get out of my face,” Dad said.
Then he turned to get back to work on the camp.
Holly stood there. Heart racing. Feeling totally alone.
She watched as Alison, Dad, and Kumal carried on working on the camp.
She watched as Arya tilted her head, wondering what was happening.
She watched as Gina kept her eyes closed, emotionless.
She’d never felt more lost.
She’d never felt more invisible.
It was time for something to change.
She took a deep breath. Swallowed a lump in her throat.
And before anyone could do a thing, she grabbed a small bag of supplies and walked off into the night.
Alone.
Chapter Thirty
Mike carried on putting the tent together, but he couldn’t get Holly’s words out of his mind.
It was still dark. The only light came from the moon, the stars, and a fire that was burning beside them. But he figured there wasn’t even much point getting this camp built. They were going to be setting off soon anyway, as soon as dawn broke. That’s when he wanted to be away from here.
But he needed something to do.
He needed something to focus on.
Because if he didn’t, Holly’s words would keep playing on his mind.
He’d keep on remembering exactly what she’d said.
He felt a knot in his stomach. He didn’t want to believe what she’d said. After all, it wasn’t true. He hadn’t driven Caitlin away. They’d had a good relationship.
And sure, they’d had their issues. But didn’t every couple?
He tried not to remember the moment he found out she was having an affair… how it made him feel…
He just pushed it aside like he did with so many other emotions.
And it made him realise, maybe Holly was right. Maybe he did push people and situations away far too readily.
But some things were just too painful to look in the eye.
He looked at the tent in front of him, finally completed. Alison and Kumal weren’t saying much, aside from occasional small talk—all of it awkward. Gina wasn’t helping. Mike figured he’d give her some time. In the distance, he could still see the glow of flames that engulfed the town of Garstang. So many places would befall the same fate. So many town and city-wide fires would spread. He’d known the dangers before he went into Garstang. He should’ve known to stay well clear.
He listened to the crackling of the flames. When he inhaled, his stomach turned, because he could still smell the burning flesh of Richard before he’d fallen off the side of that railing, down to his death. And he thought about what Richard had seen through that window. What he’d heard. A kid. A kid barely even old enough to be called a kid.
Was that the world they lived in now? Was that just how cruel things were?
He thought about when they got away from here, out of this place. He wanted to believe he could start again. Everyone did, after all.
But it wasn’t going to be easy. Whether they stayed in Britain and rebuilt, or whether they were taken to somewhere else, they were going to live with the memories of what’d happened in this cruel new world.
And Mike knew damn well that no matter how hard you tried to push memories down, they always came up and surfaced again.
“What Holly said,” Alison said. “Was it true?”
Mike ignored her. “Get some r—”
“Don’t tell me to get some rest, too. You can’t just say that as an answer to everything. So come on. It sounds like you could do with getting a thing or two off your chest.”
Mike looked into Alison’s eyes. He didn’t want to face the truth. He didn’t want to open up.
But he felt like he trusted her.
“Caitlin was having an affair,” Mike said. “Well. She… she insisted it was just a one-off thing. That—that our relationship had gone stale. But… but then it happened again. And by that stage, I was all ready to leave.”
“What changed?”
“Caitlin got ill soon after. I felt… I felt torn. Like I was stuck between sticking by the woman I loved or leaving her on her own.”
“At least you were by her side when it really mattered.”
Mike swallowed a bitter taste in his mouth. “That’s the thing. I… I wasn’t.”
Alison frowned. “But you said—”
“I’ve told myself I was there. I’ve told myself I was by her side so many times that I’ve actually started to believe it. I’ve imagined how it would’ve been. I’ve dreamt up how it might’ve gone down. But the truth was, I couldn’t. I couldn’t look at her, not after what she’d done. The operation she was having, it wasn’t supposed to go wrong. I figured we’d work things out someday, just… just not then. But anyway. When I heard she was really unwell, I went down there. But she was already unconscious. I never got to properly say goodbye.”
The wind blew against the trees. Everything else was silent.
“What Holly said. About it being my fault. I look back and I wonder if maybe it was, you know? Maybe there are other things I’m choosing not to remember. Maybe there are other ways I’m tricking myself.”
Alison reached a hand over. Put it on Mike’s arm. “What’s done is done,” she said. “We can only affect the present moment. That’s just how it is.”
Mike nodded. He knew she was right. But he still owed Holly an apology. She was right. He needed to be more open. He needed to stop shutting himself up. He needed to change—for her.
He turned around. Went to find her.
But he couldn’t see her anywhere.
“Holly?” he said.
He walked over to Gina’s side.
Then he went back to Kumal, then back to the tent, then back around again.
“Has anyone seen…”
That’s when he saw them.
The footsteps in the mud right at the edge of the woods.
And then the missing backpack.
“Mike?” Kumal said. “What is it?”
But he couldn’t say a thing.
All he could do was stand there.
All he could do was stare into the woods.
Holly was gone.
His girl was gone.
Chapter Thirty-One
Holly walked through the woods, into the darkness, alone.
The early morning sky was still pitch black. To an outsider, it might seem like she was wandering directionless, with no real goal in sight. But she knew exactly where she was going: the safe zone. That’s where she had to get to. No more messing around. That was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
She was wrapped up well because she couldn’t stop shivering for some reason. She wondered if she was ill. Harriet hadn’t known she was ill, right up until that final moment when she’d dropped dead. What if there was something wrong with her too? Who was to say she wasn’t going to befall a similar fate?
But still, she kept on. All she had was the path through the trees ahead. All she had was her destination in sight.
She thought back to the moment she’d left. She was hoping one of them would notice. She was hoping, deep down, that Dad would turn around, rush after her, tell her not to worry because everything was okay. She was his girl, and he was sorry and he was here for her no matter what—just as she was there for him.
But he hadn’t noticed. In fact, nobody had noticed.
Which just made it all worse.
Nobody had noticed her grabbing a rucksack with just a few supplies to get by—food, water, a knife.
Nobody had noticed her leaving.
Nobody had missed her presence.
She took a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. Told herself to stop moping, to stop dwelling in the past. She had to look forward—and look forward to a life without those old attachments bogging her down. She could get to this safe zone and live whatever life she wanted to live. She was sixteen. She was old enough to be free of the shackles of her dad, who always held her back, n
o matter what.
She was grateful for everything he’d done for her. She almost felt selfish for what she was doing right now.
But at the same time… he’d never be able to face the truth. He’d never be able to stare it in the eye.
And that was going to hold him back. Forever.
She looked down at the silver ring on her finger that Mum had left for her; the last thing she’d ever given her. She thought about what Mum might say to her, as she waded through the trees right now. She wondered whether she’d be proud, or whether she’d tell her to get back, to stop acting like such a brat.
She wiped away a tear and she smiled. Mum always had her back. She always was the first to say how stupid Dad was acting at times.
She took a bite of a protein bar, but felt nauseous as she chewed its sticky, gooey consistency. She thought about what she’d do if she didn’t find the safe zone. She could probably make it out here on her own. She’d grown in confidence in such a short period. She was confident she could keep on doing.
Dad had taught her skills that she was going to treasure for life. She was never going to forget what he’d done for her.
She just wished there’d been a better way she could’ve said goodbye.
She stopped. Looked over her shoulder. Because she could hear something. Something in the distance.
It sounded like someone calling her name.
She waited. The tears started flowing even more freely. She wanted to go back. She wanted to give Dad another chance. She wanted to give everyone another chance.
She waited to hear that cry again. Waited for someone to call her name.
She waited and waited.
But nothing.
So she took a deep breath. Turned around. Faced the woods ahead, straight on.
Maybe she’d see Dad again. Maybe she’d see her friends again.
But part of her didn’t want to.
And the real reason was bubbling away under the surface.
She didn’t want attachments because attachments meant loss.
She couldn’t handle any more loss.
She looked ahead, into the darkness.
It was time to get to the safe zone.
It was time to begin again.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mike ran into the woods as fast as he could, desperate to find any trace of his daughter before she slipped away completely.
It was pitch black. Branches scratched his face as he pelted through the woods. He shouted out Holly’s name as loud as he could. He knew it was risky. He knew that drawing attention to himself in this world wasn’t a good idea.
But this was different.
This was his daughter.
He had to find her.
He couldn’t let her get away.
The trees around him were towering. It would be so easy to get lost in these woods. That’s why he thought about Holly—she could go into these woods and never come out the other side. And even if they were just a small area, who was to say she wouldn’t just bump into someone on her journey? Someone malicious? An escaped convict, or someone like that?
There was no overestimating the possibilities for disaster to strike.
Somewhere behind him, Mike swore he heard footsteps. He looked over his shoulder, just briefly, squinting into the darkness of the night that was barely lit by the moon.
He half expected to see Alison following him.
Instead, he saw Arya.
She was running after him. Panting to keep up with him. And just seeing her chasing him—seeing her want to be with him—it reassured him. It reassured him that things could be okay. Because he and Arya hadn’t got off to the best start. He’d been reluctant to take a dog on board.
But they’d worked it out. And now they were together.
He ran further through the woods. But the more he ran, Arya by his side, the more the truth began to dawn on him. The more the possibility of what was going to happen here began to build up and reveal itself.
He had to stare the truth in the eye.
He wasn’t going to find Holly.
She’d gone into these woods, into the darkness.
He wasn’t going to find her.
He stopped. Put his hands on his thighs. He felt tension in his chest; a tension he just wanted to burst.
And all he could say as he leaned there, resting against his legs, was, “I’m sorry, Holly.”
He heard a rustling, then. Looked up.
“Holly?” he said.
But then he saw something different.
A deer. A deer stepped out, looked him in the eye. Breathing heavily. Nervous stare.
In any other circumstance, Mike would’ve seen this as an opportunity to catch a tremendous food source.
But right now, all he could do was look at it.
And remarkably, against her instincts, all Arya could do was look at it, too.
He stared into this deer’s eyes. Watched as it glanced from him to Arya and back to him again.
And then watched as it ran off into the woods.
He looked around again then, as the deer’s footsteps bounced off into the distance. He listened for a sound, but there was nothing. He waited for any sign that Holly was around, but there was nothing.
He wasn’t sure how long he waited before turning around and heading back towards camp.
But as he walked, he couldn’t shake the failure coursing through his body.
Holly was gone.
His daughter was gone.
And she wasn’t coming back.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Mike sat up, wide awake, and waited for the sun to rise.
When he’d got back to the camp, the others had already gone to bed. He’d been half-expecting them to be out there, trying to look for him, or trying to look for Holly, but nah. They were thinking about themselves. And he couldn’t exactly blame them. He’d told them to get some rest. They needed to build up their strength. So that’s exactly what they were doing.
He sat in front of a fire he’d started. Old-fashioned method, really. He just wanted to feel absorbed by something; to focus on something that’d take his mind away from the events of the last few hours, the last few days… hell, the last few months.
“Fancy some company?”
When Mike heard the voice, he was surprised. Mostly because he’d expected Alison to be the one to emerge from the tent, or perhaps Kumal at a push.
But this was neither of them.
It was Gina.
She sat opposite him. Didn’t really look him in the eye, just perched beside the crackling flames, held her hands out over the fire to warm herself up.
“You—you’re good. At this whole end of the world thing. Starting fires, stuff like that. Holly’s very lucky.”
A bitter taste filled Mike’s mouth as he turned away from Gina. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be seeing Holly much anymore.”
“You’re just going to give up? Give up on her like that? After all this?”
Mike shrugged. “I don’t exactly see what other options I have, do you?”
Gina sighed. “You try. You try your damnedest, just like you have all this time.”
“Holly made her choice. She didn’t want to be with me. She… she didn’t want to be with any of us. I’ve got to be brave enough to accept that.”
Gina snorted, then. She shook her head.
“What?”
“I just—I just can’t believe you’re speaking like this.”
The way she was speaking, it was as if she had so many things bottled up inside her; so many things finally tumbling out into the open.
“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears—”
“That girl absolutely worships the ground you walk on, you know?”
Mike felt taken aback hearing that; he had to admit. “Sure we’re on about the same person?”
“When—when we were alone, all she wanted to do was find you because she knew you’d have a plan. She
knew you’d have an idea. For what to do next. She… she convinced us not to return to our homes. She believed in you, and so we did too. And you’re just going to give up on her because she’s walked away?”
Mike looked Gina in the eye. He could sense her anger. And he couldn’t help feeling it towards himself.
“You say there’s no other choice,” Gina said. “You say we’re out of options, out of ideas. But you’re wrong.”
“Enlighten me.”
“We know where Holly is going.”
Mike stoked the fire. His heart was beating a little faster now. “Go on.”
“She’s going to the safe zone. There’s no way she’d go anywhere else. Stubborn as she is, not even she would attempt to survive in this world alone. So if we know where she’s going, then we have to get there too. And when we get there… that’s when you’ll be back with her. That’s when you’ll find her. And if you truly believe she doesn’t want to see you or any of us again, well you’re well and truly mistaken, Mike. She worships you like I said. She wants you to be there when she gets there, waiting for her, proving yourself to her. She just wants you to—to be her dad.”
When Gina spoke those final words, Mike felt a lump welling up in his throat. Because he knew Gina was right. He’d been blinkered all along. Blinkered by the feeling that his daughter hated him for whatever reason, even after everything he’d done for her.
But he was wrong.
She didn’t hate him. Far from it.
She just wanted him to step up to the plate.
She just wanted him to be a dad.
She just wanted him to face up to reality, accept responsibility, once again.
“You’ve got two options,” Gina said. “You sit around here and you mope about what you’ve lost. Or you get up off—off your arse and you find your daughter. There’s just one last push, Mike. Just one last push. Then we’ll be safe.”
Mike’s heart raced full pelt now. Adrenaline coursed through his body. He felt like he was seeing for the first time in a long time.
“So what’s it going to be?”
He looked up at the sky. Saw a blueness returning to it as night segued into dawn. He listened to the gradually rising birdsong. And he knew at that moment, it was time. He knew at that moment exactly what he had to do.
