by Eden Darry
Loveday giggled. It wasn’t funny, really, but it was either laugh or scream. Ellery looked like she could go either way as well.
“I’m glad one of us finds it funny,” Ellery griped, except she didn’t look annoyed. Ellery smiled and shook her head. “Do you know what I mean, though?”
Loveday sighed. “Yes. Blinding light, everyone’s gone. Technology destroyed, have to travel on foot. Judgement Day or something. Maybe those nutters from Children of the Ark were right after all.”
Ellery grimaced. “God, I hope not. That woman, Rosemary Decker, scares the shit out of me. It looks like she was right, as well. Hasn’t she been predicting this for a few years?”
Loveday nodded. “Looks like she’s had the last laugh.”
“I hope not. Her version of events involves people like me being put to death.”
“She’s definitely an Old Testament throwback.” Loveday thought about Rosemary Decker, wild-eyed and vengeful, and about the little nugget Ellery revealed about her sexuality. Not that Loveday was interested. She couldn’t be.
Ellery spoke and interrupted her thoughts. “Tomorrow, I suppose we get some supplies together and—oh, what about Claude?”
Loveday had already thought about him. “I think he’ll come with us. With cats you can never be sure, but he’s followed me to the local shop a few times.”
“We aren’t going to the local shop,” Ellery said gently.
“I know. On foot, I couldn’t carry him all that way. He won’t go on a lead.” Loveday’s heart broke at the thought of leaving Claude behind. Of course, he was a cat, so his chances of survival were high, but he was her best friend. You make a habit out of leaving your friends behind, don’t you? She was sick of that voice, whether it told the truth or not. And could she? Could she leave Claude behind to fend for himself?
“If he won’t follow us…I don’t know if I can leave him, Ellery.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Loveday felt an awkward pat on her shoulder and almost smiled. Bless her for trying.
“I can go on my own and see if there’s anyone left. Or we can stay here together.”
“No, you should go.”
“But that thing. Watching us…”
Ellery didn’t have to say it, Loveday knew. She also knew—she couldn’t explain how—it wanted them to leave town. She didn’t know why, or what would happen if she didn’t. She supposed they might find out tomorrow.
“Let’s wait and see what happens. It may follow us, after all.”
Chapter Thirteen
Terry thumped on his son’s front door. He stood back and shouted his name into the silence. He bent down to the plastic rock the lad kept behind his recycling boxes and turned it over. He fumbled with the spare key, his fingers greasy with sweat and shaking, finally pulling it off the magnet that held it in place.
He got the key in the front door, and at first it wouldn’t turn. He tried again, nearly snapped it off, then remembered you had to hold the handle up before the key would turn.
Inside, the house was silent. He could hear the drip, drip, drip of the tap in the kitchen. In the hall, his son’s work boots and the beaten-up trainers he always wore were lined up next to his girlfriend’s shoes and the tiny shoes of their little boy, also called Terry, which got confusing at Christmas.
Dread settled in Terry’s belly to keep company with the fear.
“Please, not my boy. Please, not my boy,” he found himself whispering over and over as he climbed the stairs. Little Terry’s bedroom was empty, the bed sheets rumpled but cold, their inhabitants long gone. In his grandson’s room, the child-sized bed was empty. Above it, a Thomas the Tank Engine wall sticker stared down at him. He had helped Little Terry decorate this room. He and Shirl had both been worried when their son had told them he’d got his girlfriend pregnant. Terry was ashamed to admit he’d urged the lad to convince her to get an abortion. Little Terry wouldn’t hear of it, and it wasn’t as if he and Shirl had been much older when she got pregnant.
He’d given them a loan so they could buy this house—not much, a two-up two-down—but he and Little Terry had spent weekends working on it to bring it up to scratch. They were some of the best months of his life. Spending time with his son, listening to the football on the radio, talking about how shit their club was and who they needed to buy and how they should play to get back up the table. Both agreed the manager was a wanker.
Terry found his legs couldn’t support his weight and he slid down the wall onto the floor. For the first time since Little Terry was born, he started to cry.
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that. At some point he’d curled into a ball like a little baby. Eventually, the tears dried up. A horrible emptiness settled in his belly, pushing out the fear from before. If Little Terry was gone, then he didn’t care about anything.
He stood up, wobbled a bit, then straightened. He would go to the pub. He would drink himself to death if it was possible. If not, he would think of some other way to kill himself.
* * *
Ellery walked Loveday back to her cottage. They’d left Rocky at her place in front of the fire. The plan was to get Claude into his carrier and take him back to Ellery’s. In the morning, they’d gather any supplies they needed and head out, probably to Southampton because it was the closest, but they’d hit other towns on the way and see if there were any survivors.
The sky had begun to darken, and Ellery was reluctant to be outside when night came fully. She sensed those cold alien eyes on her all the time now, except when she and Loveday were in her cottage. She knew it wanted them out of town and felt her own sense of urgency grow with every hour they stayed, like a clock was set to a countdown in her mind, and she didn’t want to be here when it reached zero.
Claude was waiting for them on the garden wall when they got to Loveday’s cottage. He stood, stretched, and meowed loudly when he saw them.
Ellery watched Loveday stroke his long back, scratch his ears, and kiss his head. She hoped he would follow them tomorrow. Loveday opened the door. “I’ll find his carrier. We can feed him once we’re back at yours.”
Ellery nodded. Since their discussion about Claude, Loveday had been quiet. Ellery thought she probably knew the risk of staying here too. They both seemed to be aware of the thing that watched them and had an uncanny understanding of its intentions.
The thought made Ellery nervous. She wasn’t a stranger to knowing things she couldn’t explain or understand. By even by her standards this was weird.
But that wasn’t the only thing that was weird. Her connection with Loveday unsettled her too. They were virtual strangers and yet they had an easiness between them as though they’d been lovers for years. No. Do not go there. They were not and never would be lovers. Ever. They were sort of friends. They had a connection, it was true, but they would only ever be friends.
Loveday looked on as Ellery smiled at Claude who wrapped himself around her legs, rubbing his big face against her calf. “Sorry, friend, I don’t have access to your food. And you’re going to have to wait a bit longer anyway.”
As if he understood, the cat huffed and shot upstairs, no doubt to search out dinner.
* * *
Back at Ellery’s cottage, night had come. They cooked beans on the camping stove—Ellery was reminded of the deserted kitchen earlier in the day, and almost couldn’t bring herself to eat them—and sat in front of the fire in the lounge.
Claude hadn’t proved to be much of a problem. He got into his pet carrier fairly easily. She and Loveday took turns hoofing him back, and Ellery realized it would be difficult to take him in a carrier. He was the same size as the dog and too heavy to carry.
He was wary of Rocky once they got him home and kept an eye on the dog from his position on the back of the sofa, behind Loveday’s head. Ellery though he would get used to him soon enough, if he would follow them out of town.
Loveday put down her bowl, and Ellery watched her star
e at the flames. Their reflection flickered in her eyes, and her chest rose and fell gently as she breathed. Ellery quickly looked away. The last thing she wanted was to get caught ogling Loveday’s boobs. Not that she’d been doing that, not at all, but it would look like she had if Loveday caught her. And they were pretty great boobs.
“What are you thinking about?” Ellery surprised herself. She never asked people questions like that. It invited too much familiarity.
Loveday looked over and smiled sadly. “It’s strange. I moved here to avoid people. But I miss them now they’re all gone.”
“I know what you mean.” And she did. Ellery wanted to ask why she wanted to avoid people but sensed Loveday wouldn’t welcome the intrusion. She was kind but closed off. Like Ellery.
“You know, I never even asked if you’d lost family or friends in this. How selfish am I?”
“I didn’t. And you aren’t.” Ellery smiled. “I’m a loner too.”
“What about your family?” Loveday asked gently.
“I haven’t seen them for years. Besides, they’re alcoholics—have been since I was a kid. If the storm didn’t get them, sclerosis of the liver probably did, ages ago.” Ellery didn’t ever talk about her parents. Especially not with strangers. Why was she telling Loveday?
“I’m sorry. Is that why you were in foster care?”
“Yes. When Granny Ivy was alive, things were okay. She made sure I had clean clothes, food. That the bills were paid. After she died, all that stopped. The worst was when they didn’t pay the electric bill. We’d be stuck in darkness for weeks.” Ellery shivered at the memory. Walking through the cold house and up the stairs to her bedroom in the pitch dark. Waiting for something to reach between the banisters and grab her ankle.
“That’s horrible. I’m sorry.”
Feeling embarrassed because she’d revealed too much, Ellery leaned forward and gathered up the empty bowls. Loveday put her hand on Ellery’s arm. “Leave those. I’ll clear up.”
“It’s fine.” Ellery’s throat was dry, her skin warm where Loveday touched her. When did this happen? Not that she hadn’t been attracted when she’d met her—before, if you counted staring at her author’s photo.
“You cooked. I’ll clear,” Loveday insisted.
Ellery was grateful Loveday let the subject of her parents drop without question.
“I heated beans.”
Loveday grinned, squeezed her arm. “Don’t split hairs. Plus, you added Worcestershire sauce to them. It’s almost cooking.”
Ellery laughed. “I’m glad you’re so easy to please.”
“Oh, really?” Loveday raised an eyebrow and Ellery felt her face flush.
“Not like that. You know what I mean.”
“I do. Relax, Ellery. It’s okay.” She smiled and gathered the dishes.
* * *
The kitchen was freezing cold. Loveday shivered and pulled her sweater tighter around her body. Get these washed and then get back in the lounge. She also wanted to go back because Ellery was there and it felt safer somehow—strength in numbers and all that. Since returning to Ellery’s cottage, the sensation of being watched had gone away. Loveday didn’t doubt the thing was still out there, but for now its watchful eye was closed.
Loveday turned on the tap to rinse the bowls. How much longer would luxuries like running water last? Not long if everyone had truly disappeared. Machinery broke down, pumps failed, pistons stopped…pistoning. She guessed it wouldn’t take long at all. They’d be back to living in caves in no time. And medicine? Doctors? All of that would be things of the past. If you broke your leg or got an infection, you were on your own. It didn’t bear thinking about. Loveday prayed they weren’t the only survivors, that there was some sort of emergency shelter somewhere with the remnants of society huddled inside. In the next few days they—or perhaps just Ellery—would find out.
Loveday held a bowl under the tap to rinse off the soapy water and looked out the window. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. In the dark, it could just be a trick of the light. When she realized what it was, she screamed. The bowl dropped out of her hands and smashed to pieces in the sink.
Chapter Fourteen
Terry belched and poured himself another whiskey. He’d almost finished the bottle and didn’t even feel tipsy. Fuck.
The pub had been locked and empty, like all the other shops and restaurants on the high street. Usually, it was four or five people deep on the pavements, and double-decker buses, cars, vans, lorries clogging the roads as they inched along. Horns blared, peopled shouted, sirens wailed as the ambulances from the local hospital roared past. Today, silence ruled. Like in the main road, there were cars and a couple of buses stopped in the street. Several had mounted the kerb, and one had knocked over a rubbish bin. Its litter blew along the streets on the back of a gentle breeze.
Terry had looked through the pub window and seen it was empty. He used the sandwich board that hadn’t been brought in last night—advertising pints of lager for two ninety-nine, shots for a pound—and smashed the glass in the door. He unbolted the top and bottom and let himself in. He didn’t even bother to call out this time because the sound of glass breaking would have brought someone downstairs if there had been anyone left.
Buried in his grief, Terry didn’t care where everyone was, why they had disappeared, or why he was left behind. All he was interested in was getting blitzed. The sooner the better.
He drew himself a lager off the tap and swallowed it down in a few mouthfuls. It was warm but he didn’t give a fuck. He got himself another and settled down behind the bar with a bottle of whiskey.
Terry knew he was being watched, had felt it as he ran to his son’s house and now, as he sat in the pub, trying unsuccessfully to get drunk. Whatever it was, it could have him. He didn’t care. Above him, a floorboard creaked, like someone was up there. Now that was strange. Another board creaked, this one by the stairs behind the bar. It led up to the landlord’s flat. Terry put down his glass and leaned back on his stool. He cracked his knuckles.
The sensation of being watched grew stronger. The back of his neck itched and his heart began to beat faster. He felt adrenaline surge and his senses sharpen in a way they hadn’t since he’d been a very young boy and heard the front door open, signalling his old man was home.
The stairs creaked again—someone was coming down. Terry waited.
* * *
At the sound of her scream, Ellery came running. Loveday couldn’t take her eyes from the window, at what was outside. She felt Ellery clutch her shoulder and turn her around. She looked into calm, kind eyes and forced herself to relax. She knew Ellery wasn’t tactile, but she couldn’t help herself. Loveday leaned into Ellery’s arms, wrapped herself around Ellery’s warm body, and willed her breathing to even out.
She buried her face in Ellery and breathed her in. She was overwhelmed by a feeling of safety, of being home. She pushed it down with brutal force as quickly as it came up, but it wouldn’t go away completely. She didn’t want it to. It felt too good.
She was surprised when Ellery pulled her in and held her tightly, the awkwardness she’d displayed earlier gone. Loveday tucked her head under Ellery’s chin.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Loveday wanted to cry at the gentleness in Ellery’s voice.
She nodded, leaned back, but didn’t leave the circle of Ellery’s arms. “It was out there. While I was washing up.”
Ellery turned slightly to look out the window. Loveday watched her squint. “I can’t see anything.”
“It’s gone now. It was only there for a moment.”
Ellery’s mouth opened but Loveday cut her off, saying hotly, “I didn’t imagine it, before you ask. I’m not some hysterical moron.”
“No, I wasn’t going to question you. After everything that’s happened today, I believe you, Loveday. I’d be an idiot not to. I was going to say, we should draw the blinds. So it can’t see inside. In case it comes bac
k.”
Loveday nodded. Well. She hadn’t expected this response from calm, logical Ellery. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to bite your head off.”
Ellery grinned at her briefly. “Don’t worry about it. What was it doing out there? What did it look like?”
“It was too dark to see it properly. Tall and thin—I think it had a hunchback. Or at least, it stooped. It was standing towards the end of the garden. I suppose I felt, more than saw it. Does that make any sense?”
“Yes. It’s been the same all day. Not seeing it, but feeling it. What does it want?”
“It wants us out of town.”
“Why?” Ellery sounded as frustrated as she felt.
“That’s the million-dollar question isn’t it?” Loveday echoed her words from earlier.
Ellery lowered the blinds, looking out one last time. “Maybe I should—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. Don’t you watch scary films? People who go outside to investigate”—she made air quotes—“end up dead. Neither of us is going out there. We’re going to stay in here, and when morning comes, we’re getting the fuck out of Dodge. If Claude’s up for it, of course.”
“Yes, boss.” Ellery gave a dorky little salute and smiled. Neither of them wanted to think about what would happen if Claude had other ideas. Loveday didn’t think she could leave him behind. But staying would mean death—she knew that somehow. There had to be a way to take him with them, even if it meant dragging him in his carrier.
Chapter Fifteen
Ellery stood high on a hill with a huge sprawling city spread out below her. To her left was Loveday, and to her right was a young girl she’d never seen before. The girl was no more than sixteen with short, spiky hair and a multitude of hoops rimming her ear. Before she could speak, the girl turned to them.
