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The Bitter End
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James Loscombe
The Bitter End
Copyright © 2014 by James Loscombe
The rights of James Loscombe to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are ficticious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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The Bitter End
Escape
Arrival
Love
Death
Fight
After
They ran through the streets because her daddy said it would be pointless to try and take the car. She saw that he was right. There must have been a crash or something because there were broken cars everywhere. But she couldn't see anybody in them. That was good. She didn't want to see anyone hurt.
Cora Thompson held her mummy's hand tightly. Her mummy looked scared and she didn't want her to be scared. When her mummy was scared she remembered the time daddy had gone to hospital and she didn't want to remember that.
Her daddy and Ben were a few metres in front. Pushing broken pieces of metal from the cars out of the way. It was the middle of the day and the sun was bright, it reflected on the metal like mirrors and she had to look away from things that were too bright.
There should have been other people, she realised. There should have been ambulances and police officers. There should have been a fire engine because one of the buildings was filling the air with poisonous smoke and heat. She wondered if there had been a terrorist attack. At school they had been told all about September 11th.
She could hear her mummy breathing as they ran. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes open wide but she didn't turn her head, she kept her eyes focused on Ben and daddy ahead.
They ran for nearly an hour before they stopped to rest. She was tired but her daddy had a big bag on his back and carried another one in front of him. She had her My Little Pony backpack on, filled with her most precious things. They all had bags so there was no one who could carry her.
"How much further?" said her mummy.
Her daddy shook his head, "not much. We'll be there before dark."
They rested beneath a tree that grew out of the pavement. The shops around them were dark and empty. She realised that everyone had gone.
"Okay," said her daddy, still panting and his face was red. "Are you ready?"
Her mummy nodded and then they were running again.
They ran along dirty alleyways that smelled funny and she could tell that they were going down hill. She heard some bells playing in a church and for a moment thought they were going there but they ran straight past. If there were any people inside she didn't see them.
They ran until she was exhausted. She couldn't pick her feet up anymore and she was getting more scared. No one had told her what they were doing. She started to cry.
"What is it sweat heart?" said her mummy. They stopped running but she was too scared to look around and see where they were.
She shook her head and the tears ran down her cheeks.
"Dennis," called her mum and then she crouched down in front of Cora. "Come on honey, tell me what's wrong."
She said some things but most of it was muffled by the choking cry in her throat so that only "...scared..." came out.
Her mummy put her arms around her and squeezed. When she let go again Cora saw that her daddy and Ben were standing behind her. She didn't look at Ben because he would be making some stupid face at her but she didn't care. The fear was paralysing. She didn't feel like she was running away from whatever was wrong but towards it.
"She's scared," said her mummy standing up but still keeping a hand on her shoulder. Her mummy was taller than her daddy which Cora hadn't realised was unusual until just last year.
Her daddy bent down in front of her. "There's nothing to be scared about Cora," he said.
Then why, she tried to say, "...are we running?"
"It's a game," said her daddy. "You like games, don't you?"
She didn't like this game. This was a mean game and she didn't want to play it anymore. She wanted to go back home and crawl under her bed sheets until the monsters went away. She shook her head.
Her daddy turned to look at her mummy who shrugged. Then he turned back to her and she could see that he was trying to relax but he still looked scared and that was even scarier. "We're going on holiday," he said.
She knew that they weren't going on holiday. When you went on holiday you packed up all of your clothes the day before and you had them waiting by the front door for when the taxi came to take you to the airport. When you went on holiday you didn't get woken up by your mummy shaking your shoulder and telling you in a panic to put your most important things in a bag and to hurry up. You didn't run through the streets for hours not knowing where you were going.
"Come on," said her daddy offering her his hand. "We're almost there now."
She took his hand but there was reluctance there. It was starting to get dark and that was another thing; the summer holidays were over now and they hadn't been to buy her new things for school. Normally at the end of the summer holidays she got new pencils and a new bag but this year they hadn't even talked about going shopping.
They walked now. She could see that it worried her mummy and daddy not to be running but she couldn't run anymore. Her arms and legs were tired.
"What time is it?" said her mummy.
Her daddy looked at his watch. "Almost eight."
Then her mummy looked up in the sky. Heavy looking clouds were blocking what was left of the suns light creating an artificial twilight. "We need to hurry up," said her mummy.
Cora didn't know why they had to hurry up but she soon found out.
A door swung open behind them and crashed against the wall. She turned around while still walking forwards.
A man stumbled out. He was dressed in rags and shielded his eyes against the weak sun. He had long arms and legs and he looked as if he had just woken up. He looked up the street and then down where he saw them.
The man smiled. She saw two sharp fangs at each corner of his mouth and she screamed.
Then her daddy turned and saw the man. "Oh shit!" he said.
Normally she would have laughed, because it was funny hearing her daddy swear, but not this time. He dropped the bag that he was carrying and she heard something inside it break. Then he picked her up and started to run.
Her mummy and Ben were running as well.
She could see the man behind them, running jerkily towards them as if his legs were too long for his body. A long tongue came out of his mouth and licked his lips. Cora screamed again.
At the bottom of the hill was the canal. She could see the little boats bobbing up and down on the water as the last of the sunlight started to fade. More men like the first were behind them now. They didn't so much run as throw themselves through the air. They reminded her of new born animals she had seen on television, animals that weren't quite sure yet how their bodies worked.
They ran down the steps and she thought that her daddy might drop her but he held tight.
"Which one?" said her mummy. She had stopped running and let Cora and her daddy overtake them.
"This way."
They ran along the bank. She could see more men like the others, and some of them s
he thought were women, coming over the bridge towards them. Her daddy stopped beside one of the boats and they climbed onto it.
She didn't like this. She was crying and she wasn't even sure why. The men were so strange and there were so many of them.
Her mummy and Ben climbed on and her daddy started the engine. The boat moved away from the bank as the first man arrived. He lunged towards them but they were too far away.
He screamed as he hit the water and she was sure that she saw smoke rising from the surface.
The boat moved slowly towards the middle of the river and more of the men gathered around the bank, reaching out as if they could grab them and pull them back. She thought for sure that they would jump in the water and start following them but they didn't.
Then they were moving and she was in a crying panic but her mummy and daddy didn't seem to notice.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped. She was convinced that one of the men had somehow got on the boat and was going to steal her away without her mummy and daddy noticing. When she turned to look she saw it was only Ben.
His face was pale and his eyes wide. He was a few years older than her and, she realised, big enough to understand more of what was going on. "It's okay Cor," he said.
She buried her face in his chest and felt him wrap his arms around her as the boat moved too slowly down the river.
1
Hannah couldn't sleep at night. At night she imagined that she could hear them out there, running through the long grass and climbing in the trees. Dennis said they were perfectly safe. She should have learned to trust him but how could he know? How could he really know?
So while Dennis slept in their bed, while Cora and Ben slept on the pull downs, she got up. She crept through to the living room and stood over the kids. If they woke up and saw her there they would be terrified. They might think that the world had ended all over again. But she couldn't help herself.
When she had satisfied herself that they were okay, beyond the scars and the fear, she went to the door at the back. It was locked, of course. But if those things ever found them and wanted to get in the lock would hardly even slow them down.
Hannah took they key out of her dressing gown pocket and removed the padlock. She pushed open the doors slowly. They were well oiled and practically silent. Once they were open she quickly climbed the steps and went out, closing the door behind her lest the wind get in and wake the children.
Outside it was silent and cold. She wrapped her dressing gown tightly around her and looked towards the bank of the canal. There were no trees, that had been her imagination. Dennis never would have stopped for the night in a location with limited visibility. Instead there were rolling fields lit by the stark moonlight and a billion bright stars.
At the top of the hill she could make out the shape of a farmhouse. Even from this distance and in the dark she could see the half-collapsed walls that told her a battle had been fought there. She wondered what had happened to the humans, whether they had run away, whether they had lived or died. Either way it was certain there was no one there now.
She shivered but she didn't go back inside. She felt safer out here, where she could see that none of them were hiding. Dennis said they couldn't cross the river, but how did he know? No one had even known they existed until six-months ago so why did he suddenly consider himself an expert?
She looked at the black water, rippling away from the bobbing boat. The moonlight made it sparkle. It was early September but the water would be freezing. She wondered how long she would struggle for if she fell in, or would the cold simply overwhelm her.
A lot of people she knew had killed themselves. In the last days there had been no shame in it. Better that than ... well, it didn't bear thinking about what would happen if you got taken. And what of those that survived? Was it really a life worth living? To spend it in fear, constantly looking over your shoulder, jumping at every little sound. The idea of settling in one place a dream that would be lost within a generation.
The kids were the only reason she was still here. Even Dennis, who she couldn't live without, didn't seem worth living for. Some people had killed themselves and their children and hearing about it she had reacted with the shocked revulsion of a mother. Sometimes she wondered though; what sort of life were they raising Cora and Ben for? Just eight and eleven years old, they wouldn't remember the world as it used to be.
Hannah sighed and considered going back inside but her thoughts were churning now and she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. She would probably just wake Dennis and he wouldn't be cross but he'd be able to tell what sort of mood she was in and want to talk about it.
She picked at a loose bit of paint on the blue doors. Until a week ago she had never been on a canal boat. She didn't like the water. Now it looked like she was going to spend the rest of her life living on it. The idea appalled her in the way unnatural things often did. She could see the land, could almost reach out and touch it but it was too dangerous to go there.
The piece of blue came away like dry glue and revealed a dull grey beneath. She flicked the hardened paint away and watched it land on the water, float there for a moment and then sink below.
She felt like crying all the time. Dennis said she was suffering from shock. She both loved and feared the way he was just getting on with things but thought he was probably suffering from shock as well. If such a thing had still existed they would probably both be seeing psychiatrists.
The cold wind went through her and she shivered. Inside it was warm and comfortable but she wasn't ready to go back yet. Dennis had found the long boat. Some rich jerks play thing, he'd called it. Whoever owned it was probably dead so they'd taken it.
It seemed strange that only three days had passed, like it should have been more. The boat was already starting to feel like home in the way she supposed a prison cell would if you stayed there long enough.
The boat rocked gently back and forth, towards the shore and away from it as if it couldn't make up its mind. She watched the ripples spread out across the water and out of sight in the darkness.
She should go back inside. Dennis would be worried about her if he woke up and found her gone. He might even wake up the children in his panic before realising that was the last thing he wanted to do. Then he would fumble and mumble some half-cocked excuse to try and get them to go back to sleep but it wouldn't work.
She leaned against the side and looked out behind the boat. The scene was almost unchanged from the one in front. A crooked spired church stood in place of the farmhouse and a black bird soared across the sky. She wondered what the animals thought of all this, whether they wondered what had happened to all the humans in the same way they had wondered when the animals started to vanish. Or did they simply enjoy the extra food and freedom it gave them?
Hannah turned back towards the door. The cold finally starting to get to her, she wanted to be back inside. She took a final look around to make sure nothing had snuck up on her and then she went in.
The warmth of the boat stung her skin like a hot bath. She closed the door behind her and stopped to look down at each of her children asleep before walking into the bedroom. The floor rocked from side to side as she moved but nobody seemed to notice.
2
Hannah woke to the smell of bacon frying. She rolled over and opened her eyes and saw she was alone in bed. The boat engine hummed and she could hear water splashing aggressively against the side. They were moving then and nobody had woken her.
She arched her back and stretched. Despite her late night wandering she felt as if she'd had a good eight hours. She felt better for it and climbed out of bed with the nearest thing she'd had to a smile for weeks.
In the kitchen she found Dennis cooking breakfast. He smiled at her as she walked towards him. "How are you doing?" he said in that soft sympathetic voice that sometimes irritated her, sometimes didn't.
"I'm good," she said and meant it. Maybe the dark days were behind h
er. She opened her arms and embraced him. He was a few inches shorter than her, his dark hair tickled her nose.
He pulled away and turned back to the bacon.
"Who's driving?" she said.
He shrugged. "They couldn't stop arguing about it so I told them to take it in turns."
She thought about going up to see them, felt a desperate longing to see a pair of carefree smiling faces, but she didn't. It would only irritate them, make them feel as if she was checking up on them. "Smells good," she said.
The toast popped up and he pulled it straight from the toaster and onto a plate. They ate well for the time being. The fresh food would only last for so long so they might as well enjoy it. She wondered if she would eat bacon again before she died.
"What's the plan for today?" she said.
He put two more slices of bread in the toaster and spun around to the frying pan. "Keep pushing on," he said.
He placed a cup of coffee in front of her. She let the smell rise up and savoured it for a moment before picking it up.
When the bacon was cooked she took two plates up to the kids. Ben was the spitting image of his father and Cora had a lot of the same features too; the straight roman nose, the round jaw and high cheek bones. She had Hannah's blue eyes and curly blond hair though.
"Thanks mum," said Ben. He had grown out of calling her 'mummy' some time in the last six months and she supposed Cora wouldn't be far behind. They had both aged more than they should have recently.
She stood on the stairs and drank her coffee, silently watching Ben devour his sandwich while Cora steered and then swapping over. They were her reason, they were why she hadn't hung herself or put a bullet through her head, like others had done.
She left them to it and returned to her now cold bacon. It tasted as good as anything could at the moment. Her mood was starting to sour as she wondered what the future held for Ben and Cora.