Escape Artist (End of the World Book 3) Read online

  I climb out of the car and open Cassie’s door for her. She looks at me with surprise and I realise she expected to stay put as well.

  “It was your idea,” I tell her.

  She nods and gets out.

  I close the door and watch her walk towards the door. She is still limping a little, but not as bad as she was. I follow behind.

  The electric doors are closed. I look around for a rock or something to break the glass with, but the ground is clear.

  “Here,” Cassie says. She manages to get her fingers between the two panes of glass and with a little effort is able to pull them apart. “Help me.”

  Together we get the door open enough for us to get inside. The two pannels snap back together once we let go of them.

  The supermarket is deathly silent and darker than I expected. The shelves cast long shadows across the floor. I can’t see far, but there is still food on the shelves. The people here didn’t even have enough time to panic buy.

  We take bags from the checkouts and then walk together down the aisles, grabbing packets and tins as we go. It is the first time that Cassie and I have been alone together for years. I don’t have anything to say to her.

  “You should go easy on Harriet,” she says.

  I am so shocked by the comment that I don’t respond. Who is this woman to tell me how I should treat my daughter?

  “I mean, she’s not a little girl anymore.”

  “She’s eleven years old,” I remind her.

  “Twelve,” Cassie says.

  I smile to myself, she knows so little about her own daughter that she doesn’t even know how old she is. Who is she to tell me how I should treat Harriet? “She’s eleven Cassie.”

  “She’s twelve.”

  This could go on for a while, but I can’t agree to disagree when I know that I’m right. “Cassie—“

  “It was her birthday last week.”

  “What?”

  She smirks at me. “You didn’t remember?”

  I shake my head and rack my brain, still hoping that she is the one who has made a mistake.

  “We were in the forest. She turned twelve. I gave her a necklace.”

  A week ago we were in the chateux, hiding from the Infected. I realise that I have no idea what date it even is. But I do remember seeing Harriet wearing a blue beaded necklace.

  Cassie walks ahead of me and I let her go. I need to be alone for a moment. I can’t believe I missed Harriet’s birthday.

  I walk through the dark aisles. I can hear Cassie around the corner. I take things from the shelves at random, but there is no enjoyment in it now. It feels as if I’ve let Harriet down, even though I know that’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t even be alive now, if it wasn’t for me.

  When I come to the non-food items I stop. There are books but they are all in German and, as far as I know, none of us speaks it. There are also some out of date magazines, which might be worth taking if they weren’t also in German.

  I find myself standing in front of the stationery; the notebooks and pens.

  There is a grey hardback notebook. I pick it up. Is this the sort of thing that Harriet would like? She used to enjoy going shopping for stationery when school was starting. I move along to the pens and select a chrome rollerball which looks like it goes with the notebook.

  “What are you doing?” Cassie says.

  I turn and see her at the end of the aisle. Two full carrier bags in each hand. “Nothing,” I say. I put the notebook and pen in a bag and keep moving. Knowing my ex-wife, she won’t have picked up anything worthwhile.

  CHAPTER 7

  IT IS STARTING TO GET DARK BY THE time I return to the car. Michelle is standing outside, looking anxious. Harriet is still inside with her arms crossed over her chest, looking grumpy.

  “Did you get everything?” Michelle says.

  I hold up the bags in answer. “Can you open the boot?”

  She comes around the car and opens it for me. There is plenty of space for everything we got. Before she can close it again, I take out the hammers that I picked up from the hardware section. I hold one of them out to her.

  “What’s this for?” she says.

  “In case,” I say.

  “In case what?”

  I shrug. She knows the answer. If she can’t bring herself to think about it then there’s nothing I can do. She walks back to the passenger seat and I close the boot before getting behind the wheel again.

  By the time we leave the city, the car is down to less than a quarter of a tank. I don’t know how far that will get us, but as I don’t know where we’re going, it doesn’t seem to matter.

  No one talks.

  For a while Michelle occupies herself fiddling with the radio. She scans the AM frequency but the only thing we hear is ghosts. If anyone else is alive out there, they aren’t trying to get in touch. Based on everything I’ve seen in the last few weeks, I can’t say that I blame them.

  I listen to my daughter and wife snoring in the back. They sound so similar. Michelle is still awake but she’s looking out the side window.

  “Are you upset with me about something?” I say.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Because you haven’t said two words to me in the last hour.”

  “I’m not upset with you.”

  “Is it about the hammer?”

  “The hammer? What?”

  I nod to the footwell where I saw her drop it earlier. “If it’s a problem, you don’t have to use it. You don’t even have to carry it. I only thought it might be safer if you had something to protect yourself with.”

  “That’s sweet,” she said.

  “It’s not a problem if you don’t want it.”

  “It’s not the hammer,” she says.

  “What then?”

  She sighs and I know that she will tell me now. Although we have only known each other for a few weeks, I have come to care about her. I’m not sure whether I would call it love yet, but it’s not far off.

  “I’m worried,” she says.

  “About what?” It’s a stupid question, but it seems as if she won’t tell me unless I press the issue.

  “About everything.” She shakes her head. “Where are we going?”

  “Ah.”

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  I shake my head. I never said I did know, but I can see why the lack of knowing might upset her. “We need to stay away from the Infected and the military. So I guess we’re going wherever they aren’t.”

  “That’s not an answer Evan.”

  “I know.”

  We sit in silence for a while. The open road going past on either side of us. There is no traffic. There aren’t even car crashes.

  “Where do you want to go?” I say.

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you want me to know?”

  She shrugs. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  She didn’t, but I’m doing my best to not let this become an argument. “We’ll find somewhere.”

  “Will we?”

  This time I shrug because the truth is I don’t know. What is at the end of this yellow brick road? How long can we keep going on like this? If we are going to do more than survive then we need to find somewhere we can settle down. Life on the road isn’t a practical long term solution.

  “We’ll find somewhere,” I say again, this time to answer my own doubts as much as hers. “Somewhere we’ll be safe. We can start a farm and grow our own food.”

  I’m not sure whether she believes it or not, but I can tell that she wants to.

  “I love you Evan,” she says.

  “I love you too,” I say, before I even realise that I’m saying it. The words tumble out of my mouth as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. After a moment where neither of us speaks, I realise that it is true. I do love her, which is only going to make things harder going forward.

  CHAPTER 8

  HARRIET WAKES ME. SHE IS STANDING
OUTSIDE THE car while I am slumped over the steering wheel. My first thought is that I’ve crashed.

  “What’s going on?” I say.

  She smiles at me. “You were asleep. I thought you might want some breakfast.”

  I glance to my right, but Michelle isn’t there. I look in the rearview mirror and see that Cassie has gone as well. Outside I see the stone cottage that I parked outside the night before. There is smoke coming from the chimney.

  I remember what I said to Michelle, about finding somewhere we could settle down and be safe. This old farm building might have been part of my dream.

  “Dad?” Harriet says.

  I snap out of my reverie and look at her.

  “Breakfast?” she says.

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Croissants and coffee.”

  “Coffee?” I say.

  “Mum found it in the store. She said you wouldn’t have noticed.”

  I didn’t think Cassie had it in her, but she has surprised me. I only thought to get practical things, like the hammers, tins and high calorie food that would last. Coffee was the last thing on my mind, but now that I can smell it, I can’t think of anything else.

  Then I remember the notebook.

  “I got something for you too,” I say.

  “Me?”

  I open the door and get out. “Wait here.”

  She nods and I go around to the boot. Cassie or Michelle took most of the bags out, but the one containing Harriet’s notebook and pen are still there. I wrap a single bag around them and take it to her.

  “I’m sorry it’s not wrapped,” I say as I hold it out.

  She can’t take it without dropping the cup of coffee and two croisants. I take them off her as she takes the book.

  “Sorry it’s late.”

  “Stop saying sorry.”

  “Sorry.”

  I stop myself from saying it again, Harriet smirks at me and then unwraps her gift.

  She doesn’t say anything.

  “It’s a journal,” I say.

  “I love it,” she says.

  “You do?”

  She nods and holds it close to her chest. When I was her age I felt the same way about stationery. I had a collection of notebooks that were so fancy, I was afraid to put anything in them in case it was ‘wrong’. I hope Cassie doesn’t feel the same about this one; notebooks are for writing in.

  “You could keep track of our journey,” I say.

  “I could.”

  “Or whatever you want. It’s your book.”

  She puts her arms around me and I realise that, as well as getting older, she has gotten taller. She is a skinny beanpole but she’s my daughter and at that moment I am the happiest man in the world.

  After I’ve eaten, we go inside. Michelle and Cassie are standing in the kitchen together. More coffee is brewing on the side.

  “How are you feeling?” Michelle says.

  “Stiff. You shouldn’t have let me sleep in the car.”

  She shrugs and I know that it’s not her fault.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I say.

  “What have you got there Harriet?” Cassie says. I’m grateful to her for cutting my awkward attempts at making conversation short. It’s difficult to reconcile my old life with my new one. Seeing them both in the kitchen, talking like old friends, isn’t making it any easier.

  “It’s a diary,” Harriet says.

  “Where did it come from?”

  “Dad gave it to me.”

  I miss the days when she called me daddy, but she’s growing up. I can’t expect her to stay a child forever.

  “For my birthday.”

  “Can you show me?” Cassie says.

  Harriet goes over to her mother. She starts flicking through the thick creamy pages. She shows her the pen.

  I leave the kitchen with Michelle and go into the dining room, closing the door behind us.

  “Is everything okay?” I say.

  “No.”

  “What is it?” I wasn’t concerned before, but I’m getting that way. “Has something happened?”

  “Cassie got bitten.”

  I frown. “Bitten? What are you talking about?”

  “When we were in the forest. One of the Infected bit her.”

  “Did they mean to bite her?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Of course it doesn’t matter. I shake my head. “And she’s, she’s still okay?”

  “She seems to be. I’m not sure. She seems... different.”

  She seems different to me as well, I remember noticing it when we were in the supermarket yesterday. But she doesn’t seem ‘zombie-like’ at all. If she’s changing, then based on what I’ve seen, it’s for the better.

  “She’s immune though,” I say. “We all are.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.”

  “Maybe we should find one,” I say.

  She frowns. I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean.

  “Well what else are we going to do?” I say.

  “There’s nothing we can do. Even if we find a doctor, it’s not as if they can cure her.”

  “I guess.”

  “So there isn’t any point.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “We need to keep an eye on her. If we notice anything then we need to tell each other.”

  “What does she think?” I say.

  “I doubt it even occurred to her. The only reason she told me is because I saw the mark on her leg.”

  “Her leg?” I say. That must be why she was limping yesterday. How on earth did she get bitten on the leg!

  “She hasn’t considered the possibility that it could change her.”

  “Do you think it will?”

  She looks at me, puts her hands on her hips. “We’ve been over that. I don’t know. You don’t know. Neither of us knows.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to leave her with Harriet?” I say.

  We find them at the back of the house where there is a wooden porch looking out over a field which is overgrown. Whatever was growing there is now rotting on the ground. Cassie has her feet up on a stool and when we come around the front, I see that she is asleep. Harriet is sitting beside her, scribbling something in her journal. She closes the book when she sees us.

  “Is everything okay?” I say.

  Cassie doesn’t stir.

  “Fine,” Harriet says. “When are we leaving?”

  “As soon as we get everything packed.”

  She smiles and then opens her notebook again. I can’t see what she’s writing, but the smile on her face says that she is enjoying it and I can’t ask for much more.

  CHAPTER 9

  WE ARE ON THE ROAD AGAIN BEFORE MIDDAY. My plan, as far as it goes, is to find a building with high walls around it. I picture a castle, or a prison, somewhere that we will be able to bring other people to.

  After a few hours the petrol tank is almost empty. The next time I see a sign for a petrol station I pull off, but stop the car some distance away from the building.

  It takes me a few minutes to reach the petrol station by foot. A dark crow stands on the edge of a sign which says something in German that I don’t understand. The bird seems to watch me, I do my best to ignore it.

  The place is quiet and unnerving. When I hear something rustling in the wind I expect to see the decaying face of an Infected. When I turn I see nothing there except an old crisp packet.

  There are a dozen cars parked haphazardly at the front. They look abandoned, but I am still cautious.

  I reach the first car which looks promising, until I try the door and find that it’s locked. The second car is the same.

  The third car I try opens. It is a white estate, the badge on the front is missing and it looks as if it has been in an accident. As an added bonus, I find the keys still in the ignition. I turn them and am disappointed when the dashboard lights up and shows me that the tank is empty.

  I try another
car and another.

  The task occupies me completely and I make the mistake of letting my guard down. I don’t hear the shuffling feel and low moan until it is almost too late.

  I turn and see two of them coming towards me. They are only a couple of metres away but already have their mouths open.

  I recoil and back away, tripping over my heels. I almost fall but manage to grab hold of a car and keep myself upright.

  They look like something from a horror film.

  I raise the hammer but neither of them seem to realise.

  I swing the hammer and they keep coming towards me.

  They aren’t quick, but I doubt I will be able to outrun them. I can’t even turn away to see what is behind me, until I convince myself that there might be more of them.

  When I look, only see a wooden fence. It is not far and there is nowhere to go once I reach it. I hit another car with my hip and almost drop the hammer. Not that it’s doing me much good.

  They reach out their arms and I see the blood crusted around their fingernails.

  “Stay back!” I say, swinging the hammer again.

  The one on the left flinches at the sound of my voice, but seems to have no concern about the hammer.

  “Stay back!” I say again.

  This time there is no reaction. I raise the hammer as if I am going to strike, but they seem to know me better than I know myself. They don’t back away.

  A couple more steps. The ground is rough and uneven. I swipe with the hammer, but there is no strength in it. I don’t mean it.

  If the Infected kill me, then Michelle will come looking. I won’t be here to warn her of the danger and she will walk straight into them. She might have the strength to kill to protect herself, but three might be too many. There could be more lurking somewhere out of sight.

  I have to face the possibility that, if I do nothing and allow myself to be die, it means my family is next.

  I don’t want to do it, but I don’t have a choice.

  Each step I take brings me closer to the fence and once I reach it, I won’t have any options left. If I can’t fight them now, then what makes me think I will be able to fight them there?