After The End (Book 1): The Furious Four

by Rendle, Samantha

  Stepping out of the car, they spotted looters across the road, darting in and out of houses. A black cloud in the near distance indicated someone had set a fire. How long had Beth been in the doctors before the city went into turmoil? Where were her parents?

  ‘In we go,’ sang Preston, locking the car and scrabbling for another key on the ring.

  He led the way up the front steps, closely followed by Kelly. Beth went after, stroking Gabriel’s head protectively. The key clicked in the lock and they entered the seemingly empty house. It was nicely, if somewhat cheaply, decorated. A silver mirror hung above a shelf in the hallway, which held candles and a potted plant. Beth glimpsed an acoustic guitar in the living room as they passed it. They moved through the hallway into a similarly decorated, well lit kitchen with generic artwork on the walls. At the end of the kitchen were two doors, one of which was extremely out of place.

  ‘Anyone need to pee?’ Preston asked, gesturing to the normal white wooden door on the right. He didn’t wait for an answer before he turned to the reinforced steel door on the left and knocked loudly on it.

  They waited a beat, and then the door squealed open, like a mouth opening in a slow-motion scream. The person who opened it, Beth reckoned, looked how Preston acted: bonkers.

  It was a young man, maybe a couple of years older than Preston, with thick, expressive eyebrows and long, strawberry blonde hair that he’d tied back in a ponytail. His chin was pointed and his eyes slanted evilly, and he wore a shirt, a green tie and grey tracksuit bottoms, finished off with braces and spotty socks. He looked like a clown college dropout.

  ‘What’s the password?’ he asked in a crackly voice that sounded like radio disturbance. His grin seemed to take up his entire face.

  ‘Piss off,’ said Preston, shoving past him and descending a set of stone stairs.

  ‘Incorrect but close enough,’ announced the clown, winking creepily at Beth. ‘Come in and bolt the door behind you!’ He bounded down the steps after Preston, calling, ‘You’ll never guess who arrived while you were gone!’

  They descended into the “bunker” that was essentially just a basement with an impenetrable door, where Preston already stood with a skinny black-clad girl wrapped around him. He looked both amused and uncomfortable, and the clown laughed manically at the look on his face. Beth set Gabriel down next to her on a musty old sofa, and Kelly sat on her other side.

  ‘I didn’t know you’d just let any old scab in here,’ grunted Preston, pushing the girl away by the face.

  The girl smirked and punched his arm. ‘Who are your friends?’

  ‘Dunno,’ said Preston, peeling himself away from her and going to a fridge in the corner.

  ‘So you just picked up these random people off the street?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he chuckled. ‘Who wants beer?’

  As Preston tossed bottles to his two weird friends, Beth took in her surroundings. The basement was furnished with a squashy armchair, the sofa bed she sat on, a mattress on which a fat ginger cat snoozed, and a rotary desk chair. A cabinet against the wall housed dodgy-looking ornaments that she presumed were drug-related instruments. The sofa faced a television, which played a Disney movie on silent.

  The girl waited for Preston to sink into the armchair before she slithered into his lap, stroking his hair. Preston pretended not to notice she was there. She would’ve been beautiful if it weren’t for all the crap on her face; she wore heavy black makeup on her eyes, her lips were a dark plum colour and her contour was way too dark. Her brunette hair fell in waves onto a very exposed cleavage and a leather crop top that Beth thought looked a bit bondage-y.

  ‘So,’ said the clown, settling in the desk chair and swivelling like a child on a roundabout. ‘Who are your friends, Lancaster?’

  ‘That’s a random black girl,’ Preston explained helpfully, pointing at Beth, ‘and that’s her squealing baby.’

  ‘I think that was racist,’ said the little girl quietly.

  ‘Just stating a fact, actually,’ retorted Preston coolly.

  With his hand outstretched, the clown wheeled towards Beth, who shook his hand gingerly. He then held his hand out to Gabriel, who blew a raspberry and giggled. The clown grinned.

  ‘I’m Larry,’ he said. He pointed at the girl in Preston’s lap and added, ‘And that’s Sabrina.’

  ‘Beth,’ muttered Beth with a strained smile.

  ‘Charmed,’ enthused Larry.

  While the host and his two friends busied themselves with their beers and Gabriel settled down for a nap, Beth dug her phone out of the baby bag. She had three missed calls from her dad and a text from her mum, reading, we live you. It was very out of character for her mum to misspell something, and Beth felt herself going cold at the thought of what that could mean. She tried not to picture the woman launching herself at the pharmacist or the man with the blood spilling from his mouth. There was a voicemail too, but she found herself too afraid to listen, especially surrounded by all these weird strangers.

  Hopelessly, she attempted to call Desmond. She had to warn him to stay away. Or did she have to beg him to come and save her? Her heart hammered against her chest as the phone rang and rang, and finally he picked up. The sound of his voice provoked silent tears, and Beth had to fight to keep her voice level as she explained what happened. She was more than surprised when he didn’t question her.

  ‘Sit tight,’ he said when she stopped stammering. ‘I’ll ring Dad and he’ll send a plane for me. I should be there by tonight.’

  ‘You mean,’ she gulped, ‘stay here?’

  ‘It’s only a few hours. How’s Gabriel?’

  ‘He’s asleep. I didn’t get a chance to get his medicine, though.’

  ‘We’ll sort it out,’ he reassured her. ‘I’ll get someone to contact your parents too. It’s all going to be okay, Bethany, I promise.’

  ‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘Can you call me when you land?’

  ‘I’ll try to. Let me call Dad and we’ll sort it all out.’

  ‘Okay, Des. I love you.’

  ‘Bye, Beth.’

  Only the little girl seemed to have been listening to the conversation. In fact the others didn’t seem to acknowledge their existence at all. Preston and Larry drank and joked while Sabrina seemed to be attempting to surgically attach her mouth to Preston’s neck. Beth’s lip curled and she looked away.

  Instead she paid her attention to the girl next to her, who had in some way earned the cat’s love – it moved lazily from the mattress to the girl’s lap and curled up silently. She stroked its head with her right hand. Beth’s gaze moved up to the girl’s face. She was nine or ten, and she was already beautiful. She had a slim, sloping nose, elfish features dusted with freckles, and big green eyes. Her hair was long and red, and wisps of it framed her face.

  Had she been kidnapped by these crazy people? What could Beth do if she had? Her eyes swept the girl for any signs of abuse but she seemed unscathed save for the bandage on her hand, which looked unusually skinny.

  The girl caught Beth looking and smiled, but Beth averted her gaze. Despite Gabriel she’d never been good with children.

  ‘So,’ said Larry loudly, taking a break from swinging wildly in the desk chair. ‘What’s the plan? Are we gonna leave the women and children here and hit the town, Pres? I’m sure there’s more shit to hoard before this all blows over.’

  ‘What am I, the team leader?’ snapped Preston.

  ‘Well you seem to be responsible for at least half of us,’ Larry pointed out. ‘Plus you’re the one with all the good ideas. Stocking up on spirits and snacks was definitely a good shout.’

  ‘So I’m a genius because we went to a supermarket,’ Preston sighed. ‘I don’t know about you, mate, but I’m going to have a fag and then I’m going to get blind drunk.’

  It seemed that the cat could sleep through anything. The same could not be said for Gabriel, who had sat upon his mother’s lap and witnessed Spontaneous Fight Club, highly inappropriat
e dance moves, t shirt removal, Heavy Metal Sing-Along and the destruction of the rotary chair. He appeared highly amused by it all as he glanced between Sabrina and Preston, who alternated between fighting and snogging, and Larry, who was doing a terrible mime impression. The three of them had gone completely berserk, and their drunken antics were completely unpredictable.

  Horrified, Beth found herself torn between shielding Gabriel’s eyes and shielding the girl’s eyes. The girl seemed used to the drunken antics, but she appeared very hurt and upset when Sabrina launched a kissing assault on Preston between throwing punches.

  Beth took her glasses off, partially to clean them and partially to blur out the horror that unfolded before their eyes, like they were the front row audience of some bizarre indie play that they didn’t understand. She held the glasses away from Gabriel, whose sticky fingers reached greedily for them.

  Desmond hadn’t reached out to her. She expected he’d probably landed by now, but she’d heard no news. Despite him saying he’d find her parents for her, she hadn’t heard from them either. She tried not to dwell on what that might mean. Her phone was charging across the room, on the TV unit with the ringer set to loud, but she feared she wouldn’t hear it over the racket the others were making.

  Next to her, the girl shifted and offered a small smile, and Beth felt a twinge of guilt at the comfort she offered.

  ‘I’m Kerry,’ she said.

  ‘Hello, Kerry.’

  ‘I like your hair. And I like your baby.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Beth looked about her. ‘How long have you been here, Kerry?’

  ‘Two weeks, I think,’ said Kerry thoughtfully. ‘Preston brought me here with my sister. I spent a night in the hospital and then we came straight here.’

  ‘So Sabrina is your sister,’ Beth guessed, and Kerry scrunched up her face.

  ‘No,’ she replied. ‘Preston said my sister ran away with her boyfriend.’

  ‘And who is Preston?’

  ‘He’s my brother’s boyfriend,’ Kerry sighed, explaining with those words why she looked so uncomfortable with Sabrina around. ‘He lived with Sabrina before he moved in with David, I think.’

  Beth tilted her head. ‘He doesn’t look gay.’

  Kerry frowned. ‘Well what are gays supposed to look like?’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Beth.

  One by one everyone began drifting off to sleep, starting with Kerry and Larry. After covering Kerry’s legs with one of Gabriel’s knitted blankets, Beth breast-fed her baby, trying and failing not to listen to the sounds of kissing, giggling and moaning coming from the mattress in the corner. Gabriel fell asleep next and, judging by the sound of Preston’s name dying down and then out, Sabrina was not far behind. A lighter clicked and flared, and Beth felt her eyelids drooping as smoke invaded her nostrils.

  When she woke again the room was dark and there was a hollow in the sofa where Gabriel should’ve been. The digital clock on the wall told her it was three o’clock in the morning, and muttering in the corner indicated that Preston was still awake. Her eyes began to flutter once more, until her brain registered and they flew open. She pushed her sagging glasses up her nose and watched as Preston bounced her beloved boy on his knee.

  In the dim light she couldn’t quite tell what his facial expression said, but she couldn’t help noticing the gentle way he bounced the baby and the softness of his voice as he spoke. It made her hesitate against her initial impulse to leap up and save her son.

  ‘...He wanted a kid, you know,’ Preston whispered into the gloom. ‘He never said it, because he knew I’d have said no, but I could tell by his actions. We’d go to the supermarket and he’d look a little too long at a brat in a pram, and he’d smile like an idiot when a little girl in a ballerina dress skipped past him.’

  ‘Dada,’ Gabriel agreed.

  ‘He thought I’d leave him if I knew,’ Preston explained, ‘and I wouldn’t have. Well, until he started making actual plans, at least. Then I’d have known it was time to move on. I’ve never been granted the privilege of forever.’

  Gabriel giggled.

  ‘See, you’re okay, aren’t you?’ said Preston. ‘You’re okay now, while you’re happy and fed and what have you. I just can’t stand the bawling and the crapping and, well, you’re just useless, aren’t you?’

  ‘Baa!’ Gabriel objected.

  ‘Carrie is just as useless and whiny,’ Preston grunted. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t gotten rid of her yet. As soon as she’s someone else’s problem, I’m free. And when I’m free, I can go back to him.’

  ‘Baa, baa,’ said Gabriel.

  ‘I’m going to kill myself,’ Preston whispered to him.

  Life as Usual

  Entering a walled-in Brighton and Hove proved to be surprisingly easy and disappointingly without violence. It appears that wall guards don’t look twice at you if you’re driving a delivery lorry containing sustenance. Thinking with one’s stomach is still, it appears, basic human instinct. But as he manoeuvres the lorry past the gate and into the city, Preston instantly regrets not bringing weapons. A quick scan of the area presents him with numerous armed officers, and he knows that with their luck getting out won’t be as easy.

  A compressed, trapped feeling falls over him as the gate closes in the rear-view mirrors. He’s grown fond of and used to living in the open, surrounded by trees instead of people. He’d spent his entire Old World life craving freedom, hating people.

  He drives for another fifteen minutes, just to be clear of the wall. The windscreen wipers work furiously to maintain his vision. Upon entering the lorry over an hour ago he was pleased to find a battered Doc Watson CD, and he’s been singing absentmindedly along to it the whole way. He knows Beth hates this type of music, and this only makes him enjoy it more.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ cries Beth as they park on a residential roadside and Preston switches off the engine. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t irreparably damage the lorry with that driving! I almost wanted to be arrested so that your driving wouldn’t kill me.’

  ‘Please,’ Preston says, immediately lighting up as he slides out of the van. ‘If I was going to kill you I’d choose a much more enjoyable method.’

  ‘I’m honoured,’ says Beth dryly. ‘God, I want to go to the sea.’

  After driving through a large, abandoned seaside town and past an airport, the lorry had sailed over a bridge. The bridge paddled in a wide, rippling river, and in the distance Beth could swear she’d seen the sea. It had been fleeting and far away, but the sight stirred childish lust for waves and sand. They’d reached the wall after, and Beth could just about see the water in the rear-view as Preston exchanged words with the wall guards. The picture hasn’t left her head since.

  ‘What about Preston Park?’ Preston says with a grin, pointing at a nearby sign that says as much.

  ‘That sounds like hell,’ says Beth, ‘and besides, we’re here on business. We’ll be in and out.’

  Chuckling, Preston looks about him. It’s started to get dark already, so he estimates they have an hour or two before the pharmacies close for the night. He tries not to dwell on how surreal it is to be back in civilisation. Not checking if Beth is following, he sets off at a walk.

  As far as he remembers, pharmacies are all over the place: in supermarkets, in health and beauty stores and standing independently. There is likely to be one ten minutes from where they stand, but it can’t walk to them. He checks down side streets as he walks, looking for the telltale green cross sticking out of a wall. Beth hurries after him, breathing loudly, and looks with him as if doubting his eyesight.

  Cars pass to and fro on the wide road, windscreen wipers waving frantically. Lights flash on and off in a block of flats across the road. A woman walks her beagle at a brisk pace, her breath fogging as she goes. Life goes on, guiltless, while other Zones get infected and Outlanders fend for themselves. It’s like going back in time. Preston shoulders a man hard as he gapes, causing the man to swear
and drop an iPhone in a puddle. Preston laughs out loud and carries on walking.

  ‘Sorry about him,’ he hears Beth say behind him. ‘He’s, uh, not well.’

  ‘Being a bloody idiot doesn’t make you unwell,’ cries the man, but Preston barely hears.

  The block of flats could pass as David’s, with a square structure and white walls and oblong windows. His other five cats could be up there, missing their brother. Sabrina could be sitting in a house down the road, smoking and counting the money in a stolen purse. Everything is all so normal. It can’t be real.

  With his mouth agape Preston steps into the road and a car swerves just in time, beeping furiously. He’s close enough to touch the traffic, to prove that it’s all real...

  ‘Pres,’ Beth calls, and his head whips round.

  ‘What?’ he snaps.

  ‘There’s a pharmacy on this street,’ she reveals, tugging him out of the road. ‘The bloke said we have to keep walking until we reach a car dealer’s, and it’s just behind it. It’s not far.’

  ‘Uh,’ he says dreamily, shrugging the sleeve of his red leather jacket back on where she’d pulled it, ‘right.’

  ‘Try left,’ says Beth, rolling her eyes.

  He lets her lead him, her hand gripping his forearm, as he gazes around him. He’d watched a show once with David about the Amish breaking free from their boring, limited lives and moving to the big city, and this is exactly what he imagines they must’ve felt like. Somewhere around here there’s a McDonald’s, pizza restaurants, swimming pools, hot showers and countless other luxuries they’d always taken for granted in their other lives.

  Annoyingly, the only buildings that reveal themselves are residential. There’s not even a little corner shop where he can destroy a sandwich. They stop at a crossing, and Preston takes great amusement in pressing the button. Beth notes the grin on his face.

  ‘I was thinking,’ she says as they wait for the green man to appear.