Anna and the Apocalypse Page 7

“Exactly,” added Savage, sliding in front of Tony to address the room. “Exactly like I said.”

  “They’re smart kids, Jules,” Tony said, clutching the desperate woman’s hands in his own. “I’m sure they’re safe indoors.”

  Julie nodded, her mouth disappearing a thin, grimly set line. Outside, the clawing and the moaning and the shrieks continued, and Tony really, really hoped he was right.

  11

  THE STREETS OF Little Haven were completely deserted.

  Anna and John hadn’t seen a single soul since they took on Frosty the Dead Man at the playground, their cell phones weren’t working, and the evidence of chaos was everywhere. Front doors wide open, windows smashed in, tire marks streaking the streets, abandoned cars everywhere they looked, it was surreal. And yet, Anna still refused to accept the truth. Always looking for a rational response, John thought, following her down the street, clinging to the straps of his backpack as he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the mayhem that surrounded them. She’d been exactly the same when her mom was sick, constantly rationalizing whatever the doctors said, always looking for proof that she would get better. It still made his heart hurt to think about how sad she had been.

  “Maybe there was a gas leak,” Anna suggested, stepping carefully over a fallen electric pole. “Or an electrical surge. I had my earbuds in when I was walking to school; there could have been an announcement and I wouldn’t have heard it.”

  “Or it could be an alien invasion. Or what if it’s the Rapture?” John ventured with just a bit too much enthusiasm. “And we’re the last people left on Earth?”

  “Why would we get left behind?”

  “Because you nicked that bag of sweets from the supermarket when you were twelve and I didn’t turn you in,” he answered confidently. “You did this to yourself, Anna Shepherd.”

  “God help me,” Anna muttered with a half smile before hitting the call button on her phone again. Still nothing. No texts from her dad, nothing from her friends. It was as though the entire world had been sucked up into thin air. But she didn’t believe in zombies or aliens, and the last time she’d seen her weird old aunt, she’d been quite clear that the Rapture wasn’t scheduled until the new year, so it couldn’t be that. If only she’d been able to find her dad, she would have felt so much better.

  “Um, Anna?”

  “Um, John?”

  She turned around to see her best friend backlit by a burning Mini Cooper.

  “I really need a wee.”

  The passenger door of the car fell off and clanged to the ground.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re convinced it’s the end of the world but you want to make a detour so you can have a wee?”

  “Impending doom is very hard on the bladder,” John replied, clutching his crotch discreetly. “And you’re a braver man than me if zombies don’t make you want to piss yourself.”

  “Lisa’s two-year-old brother is a braver man than you,” Anna commented, the stung pride on her friend’s face completely passing her by. “And we still don’t know it’s zombies plural.”

  “Oh no?” John turned in a loose circle as they carried on cautiously down the suburban street. “So where is everyone?”

  They turned a corner and Anna blinked at the street sign. They were on Haven Grove. “Hang on, isn’t this Lisa’s street? John, she might be there!” Anna began to pick up the pace down the street in hopes of finding her friend. Seeing that the thought hadn’t really registered with John yet, she followed up quickly with: “And she’s definitely got a landline.”

  “And wifi,” John agreed. “And she’ll definitely have a toilet.”

  “Honestly,” Anna muttered with a grin as she ignored what looked like a pile of spoiled haggis on the lawn in front of number seventy-two. “I still don’t know how men managed to run the world for so long when they can’t control their bladder for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”

  “I don’t think I’ve been around to Lisa’s house since her mom remarried,” John said, bending down to pick up an abandoned iPhone. There was no signal, but a quick swipe through the music library showed loads of Ariana Grande. John slipped it into his backpack. Couldn’t hurt to hold on to it until they found its owner. And if they didn’t happen to come across them, he and Anna could jam out to “Dangerous Woman” while they rebuilt the planet. If they were the only humans alive, at least he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed about his taste in music anymore.

  “I’ve only been once or twice,” Anna admitted. “We always hang out at my house. Considerably fewer toddlers.”

  “A definite bonus,” John confirmed. “Let’s go to Lisa’s, we’ll see if she’s there, and if she isn’t, try to call Tony and my mom, I’ll use the loo, grab some snacks, and then…”

  “I don’t know why you can’t just knock on a door and use anyone’s loo,” Anna pointed out. “If you were that desperate you’d just go wherever.”

  “Um, because it’s rude?” John suggested, slapping her lightly on the back.

  “I think good manners are suspended in the event of a zombie apocalypse,” she replied, slapping him back and immediately stumbling over someone’s abandoned suitcase.

  “I thought it wasn’t a zombie apocalypse,” he said, grabbing hold of Anna’s arm to steady her. “Thought it was a gas leak.”

  “It’s not zombies,” she repeated.

  “God, look at that place,” John said, nodding across the street. “Who lives there, Norman Bates?”

  Anna followed his gaze and grimaced.

  “For all intents and purposes, yes,” she responded.

  Every house on the street had some kind of demonstrable Christmas spirit. It was a small village without a lot of cultural variety. Pretty much everyone was Christian and celebrated the big C. There were one or two houses that had really gone to town with light-up sleighs hanging from the roof, giant trees drowning in baubles, even the odd pair of legs sticking out of the chimney, and sure, the decorations looked a little out of place in the cold post-apocalyptic light of day, but still, everyone had something, even if was just a string of lights in their window or a wreath on their door. But there was one house that stood out above all the others. The door had a rather large bolt on the front, the windows were unbroken, and there wasn’t so much as a single piece of tinsel celebrating the season. Gray curtains at the windows, gray paving slabs in the front yard. John felt a chill just from looking at the place.

  “But it’s the most wonderful time of the year,” he said, rubbing the goose bumps that prickled up on his arms. “What’s wrong with them?”

  “You tell me,” Anna said, shivering as they walked on. “That’s Savage’s house.”

  “Ohhh,” John exclaimed. “Fuckity-bye, Mr. Savage.”

  It made perfect sense. Any kind of decoration would require an ounce or so of imagination, and Savage saved all that for his creative punishments. He’d once made John paint the boys’ locker rooms as detention because, as Savage put it: “You’re such a talented artist.” Wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d given him a proper paintbrush instead of making him use tiny brushes from the art room. Or if the rugby team hadn’t been changing at the time. He’d never been whipped with so many wet towels in his entire life.

  “I know it’s a terrible thing to say,” he said with a huff. “But if it is zombies, I hope they get him.”

  “That is a terrible thing to say,” Anna replied, linking arms with her friend. “Besides, how would you be able to tell the difference between Zombie Savage and the normal one?”

  “Good point, well made,” John said. “Now seriously, where’s Lisa’s house, because I’m two seconds away from pissing my pants.”

  “End of the world and he still can’t go behind a tree,” she teased. “It’s the one with the candy-cane fence around the front garden.”

  “Good,” he said, picking up his pace and dragging her along. “Because I don’t want to have to add an additional
stop to our quest.”

  “If you wet yourself, I’m going to make you wear my gym shorts,” she replied, chasing after him as he started up Lisa’s garden path.

  “Lisa, are you in there?” Anna called, knocking on the front door while John did the pee dance by her side.

  “I’ll knock it down,” he offered.

  “You’ll break your foot,” she told him, blocking his way.

  “No, it’ll be fine,” John insisted, working himself up for the manly display and only momentarily wondering whether or not his bladder control was up to such a feat of strength. “On the count of three.”

  “Three,” Anna whispered, pressing down on the handle and opening the door. It was unlocked. Lisa’s front door was never unlocked. Her stepdad was a policeman and her mom was always at home with the baby. They would never leave the door open.

  “Totally could have kicked it down.” John sulked as he pushed Anna out the way and ran into the downstairs bathroom. “Oh bugger, the door doesn’t lock.”

  “Well, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on coming in,” Anna called. “Literally the last thing I ever want to see.”

  John said nothing.

  “I can stay here and guard the door if you’d like?” she offered, screwing up her face at the sound of him peeing.

  “No!” John shouted, midflow. “I mean, I don’t need you to. Guard me, I mean.”

  “Okay, okay,” she whispered to herself, taking slow and steady steps through the silent house.

  The place was empty, but it didn’t look as though anything terrible had happened there. It just looked as though they’d gone out and forgotten to lock the door. Anna peeked into the living room and saw the telephone resting on a side table.

  “Yes!” she exclaimed, holding the receiver to her ear and rejoicing at the sound of a dial tone. “John, what’s the school’s number?”

  John walked through the living room door with a relieved but blank expression on his face.

  “You said try a landline!” Anna said, wielding the receiver accusingly.

  “I didn’t say I knew the number!” John replied. “Use their wifi and look it up.”

  “I don’t have the password.” Anna opened the internet on her cell and there was nothing. “Lisa says her stepdad changes it every week so the neighbors can’t steal it.”

  “Bollocks,” John muttered, disappearing into the kitchen. “That’s what you get for having a policeman in the family. Always so suspicious.”

  “It certainly doesn’t help us right now,” she agreed, closing her eyes and racking her brain for another number, any number. When she opened them, she saw John was already halfway through a banana.

  “What?” John said, his mouth full. “I need my potassium. I don’t want to get a cramp if we have to run.”

  He threw himself into a demonstrative lunge and felt something in his lower back click. He’d be regretting that in the morning.

  “We should check upstairs,” Anna said, reluctantly hanging up the phone. No one was answering, not even the police. Possible Rapture was looking more and more likely. John chugged a glass of milk and nodded.

  “Oh sure, why not?” John muttered, following her upstairs, creaking step after creaking step. “Because nothing bad ever happens when people go upstairs to investigate in horror movies.”

  All the bedroom doors were open, and all the bedrooms were empty. Lisa’s bed was still made, her pajamas neatly folded in a pile on the pillow. Anna reached under the mattress and pulled out her diary, turning to the latest entry. December 21.

  “She didn’t come home last night,” she said, her shoulders sagging.

  “I’ve got to pee again,” John said, backing out of the girly bedroom. Something about being in there just didn’t feel right. “Be right back.”

  “After we find my dad, we’re taking you to see a doctor. Something’s not right with you,” Anna called, placing Lisa’s diary carefully back where she found it. “Hurry up!”

  She sat on the bed and kicked the door closed to block out his bathroom sounds, just in case he wasn’t only peeing after all. Even best friends had lines that shouldn’t be crossed. She looked over at the framed photos on Lisa’s dresser. There were loads of her and Chris. Dressed up for a wedding, camping in the Highlands, slow dancing at the school dance. Then there were the ones of her family, Lisa and her mom, back when Lisa was a little girl. Lisa dressed as a bridesmaid at her mom’s wedding, and then a more recent one, her stepdad in his police uniform, hand on her mom’s shoulder, the new baby in her mom’s arms, her stepbrother, Jason, sulking on one side, and Lisa standing slightly off to the other, not quite managing a smile. Anna knew things hadn’t been the same for Lisa since her stepdad and stepbrother came along. Jason was older than Lisa and thought he knew everything about everything, even though Anna and Lisa had devoted considerable amounts of time to online stalking the fool and uncovered his secret pastime as a competitive roller-disco dancer. The baby was only two, but that was still fairly irritating.

  But at least she had Chris. Anna stood up and smiled at the dozens of photos jammed into clip frames and hung on the wall: The two of them dressed as Disney princesses at a costume party from forever ago; Lisa, John, and Anna trying to make a human pyramid in the back garden; Anna and John singing karaoke at his last birthday party. She paused and pulled one of the pictures off the wall. A shot of her, Lisa, Chris, John, and her dad, all of them grinning in front of their Christmas tree. Anna remembered it. John’s mom had snapped the photo at their annual Christmas Eve dinner a year before. Chris had his arms around Lisa’s neck, John was wearing an entirely different ugly sweater, and Anna and her dad beamed at each other. Everyone looked so happy.

  “How was this a year ago?” she whispered, her eyes beginning to burn at the edges. All she wanted was to speak to her dad. Slipping the photo out of the frame and into her back pocket, she caught her reflection in Lisa’s mirror, all pale and blood spattered. She sniffed deliberately, and her hand hovered over Lisa’s lotions and potions until it landed on a pack of cleansing wipes. Staring at herself, she wiped away any trace of what had happened and tossed the offending wipe in the bin. There, she thought, straightening her hair and shaking off her shoulders.

  All better.

  * * *

  Lisa’s upstairs bathroom looked as though it had been decorated by Barbie. Everything was pink—pink toilet, pink sink, pink bathtub, pink shower curtain pulled all the way out so you could properly appreciate the ruffles. Even the carpet and the blinds and the towels were pink. John felt as though he were going back inside the womb.

  “Ah, come on,” he muttered, staring straight ahead at a rather oddly placed, framed painting of Lisa’s dead grandmother. Who hangs that kind of thing over the toilet? He looked down and gave his penis a stern stare. Of all the times to get stage fright. You couldn’t mess about in the bathroom if you were with a girl, otherwise they’d think you were not there to pee, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was kill the romance. Because even John was well aware, the end of the world was the best chance that he would ever have with Anna. Silver linings and all that, he thought, pushing up onto the balls of his feet.

  Reaching across to the pale-pink pedestal sink, he turned on a tap and felt himself relax at the sound of running water. Crystal streams, babbling brooks, waterfalls crashing against rocks, and ahh, there it was. He closed his eyes and whistled loudly, trying to drown out the sound, until a quiet rustling behind the shower curtain on the opposite side of the room made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

  “Lisa?” he whispered hopefully.

  No answer.

  “Lisa’s mom?”

  Nothing.

  “Officer … Lisa’s stepdad?”

  A gray hand reached around the shower curtain and ripped it back, tearing it from its hooks and draping what was once Lisa’s stepbrother in cascades of sugar-pink ruffles. Slowly but surely, it sat upright and turned its glazed-over eyes towa
rd John.

  “Argh!” John screamed, turning around and sending a yellow stream straight into the zombie’s eye. Oh sure, now he couldn’t stop himself.

  The Zombie Jason opened its mouth and roared.

  “Sorry!” John automatically yelled out of habit, staggering backward and bumping against the hard-angled edge of toilet paper holder. “Didn’t mean to pee on you!”

  He reached down for the waistband of his trousers, but couldn’t quite manage the zip, still stumbling out of the bathroom as the zombie tried to climb out of the tub. One arm over the side, then one leg, all the while, its dead eyes fixed on its prey.

  “Anna!” John screamed, struggling with his fly. “Get out! We’ve got to get out!”

  “What’s wrong?” She emerged onto the landing, clutching one of Lisa’s stuffed toys, her eyes red and swollen.

  Anna saw him running at her full speed, trying to pull up his trousers, and screamed too.

  “For God’s sake, man,” she yelled. “Put it away.”

  “Zombie!” John yelled, desperately trying not to get bitten and also make sure his junk was safely tucked away. It would be just his luck to get bitten by a zombie because he caught his balls in his zipper on the way downstairs. “There’s a zombie! It’s Disco Jason.”

  Quick as a flash, Anna snapped into action. She tossed the teddy bear back into Lisa’s bedroom and bolted across to the bathroom door, yanking John out by his collar. Before slamming the door shut, she took a quick glance inside and felt herself turn green. It was definitely Jason, head to toe in his shiny disco gear, only now the shiny white satin shirt was covered in blood. She held on to the handle for a moment, trapping him inside as John recovered. The two exchanged a glance and sprinted down the stairs while the thing in the bathroom clawed and scratched against the wooden door like a feral cat.

  “Anna,” John began.

  “Don’t say it,” she warned, pushing her hair back behind her ears and marching out the front door and down the street, every part of her on high alert.

  “But it definitely was,” John protested.