Harry Styles and the New York Apocalypse (8 page)

The two groups who had walked off Manhattan Island: the Springsteens and the D
’
Acampo’s, both reached their destinations on Long Island, but with very different accounts of their trips. At one point, Lulu Springsteen found herself in a catfight with a local woman, for simply leaning on the family’s Jeep Cherokee while taking a rest. The householder came rushing from her front door, all rabid teeth and nails, flinging herself on the shocked Lulu. After much hair-pulling, scratching and wrestling about the sidewalk, they were separated and the Springsteens moved on swiftly. Later, Charlie took the fancy of a gang of teenagers, lounging on their corner. In the grand scheme of things their refusal to let the beautiful woman pass was fairly trivial, but it got Jonathan beaten and kicked for objecting (although he used his martial arts skills to fend the people off), it got David Springsteen punched and it got Lulu barged about as she tried to intervene. Finally, a vigilante group of older men ordered that the people be let by, and again the Springsteens hurried onwards.

They finally reached their luxury complex, exhausted, cold and hungry. They found no security on the gate, so they walked on up into the woods. Lulu, not for the first time, linked arms with David, expressing her need again to see that the children were safe. David assured her that they would be there, all well. They also hoped that the house had been unmolested and they could make nice meals and open a bottle of wine. By then they were used to the abnormal silence all around, but up in the trees there wasn’t even any wind to affect them - it was ghostly quiet. David wondered if the area had evacuated elsewhere, but he kept that from his wife, who was forging on to her children. They passed three neighbouring properties, without any sign of life. Perhaps their friends had not made it back from work yet. There were only a few cars on driveways, so most residents had left home before the event started. David was about to voice his concerns to his wife, when they saw a familiar face walking up from a cluster of houses that included their own. It was that black man, the new neighbour, whose name they could never remember, but he was friendly enough. The man hailed them.

‘Hello there!’ the man shouted.

‘Hello!’ replied Lulu. ‘Mr Stickford!’ Then aside to her husband, ‘That’s right, isn’t it, David? Stickford? How are you coping, Mr Stickford?’

‘Mrs Springsteen! I’m doing well, all things considered.’

‘Please tell me, have you seen my children?’

‘Yes, do not be concerned. They are in our little enclave.’

David hurried forward to shake his neighbour’s hand. Lulu kissed the man. Introductions were made with Charlie and Jonathan, then they were walking quickly after Lulu.

‘And my sister?’ asked Lulu, ‘has she shown up?’

Mr Stickford shook his head. ‘Sorry, no lady has arrived saying she’s your sister.’

Lulu had to accept that there was something wrong with her sister, who would surely have gone there, if she could.

All the houses were $2 million-plus, with double garages, cultured lawns, but there were four in close proximity to each other - Mr Stickford’s so-called enclave.

‘Pretty place,’ expressed Charlie to Jonathan, thinking this was where she might have been working and, right on cue, two small boys came squealing out of a house and into their mother’s arms. They were quickly followed by the Nicaraguan au-pair, Ana, who stood smiling with relief that her employers had made it home.

***

Elaine D’Acampo still had her assistant, Kat, with her, as well as Danielle. A slight detour had been taken to Mr Murphy’s sister’s house, and they were all delighted to find his wife and daughter sheltering there. Back in the bosom of his family, Mr Murphy was a man completely brought back from the depths of despair. He had hugged Elaine with tears of joy streaming down his face. There they had spent a few hours resting and eating, before hitting the streets for the final leg. A journey that had been completely uneventful. The only stress had been the physical effort of walking such a distance when none of them were used to walking. Near to Elaine’s gated community, they stopped to talk with passing strangers, exchanging theories and hopes for the immediate future.

The security post was unmanned. Elaine made a mental note to complain about that when things returned to normal. She led the girls up the road into the estate. She smiled, hearing the two young people behind her chatting away as always. Hopefully, this event would be explained and resolved before they had to think about it with any seriousness. ‘What do you want to eat?’ she called back.

‘Fried chicken and English muffins with butter, and coffee,’ replied a laughing Kat.

‘Cheese on toast,’ said Danielle, with feeling.

‘Cheese on toast?’ asked Elaine. ‘What kind of cheese? Wensleydale?’

They all laughed.

‘I wish I could have a bath,’ said Kat. ‘I sure hope this thing is only temporary.’

‘We’ll boil lots of water for you,’ Elaine reassured her. ‘Nearly there. God, I hope the house is still standing.’

They crested a curve in the tarmac and looked down on an outcrop of white properties.

For Danielle’s benefit, Elaine pointed out which house was hers, and thanked her when she was complimented on such a fine looking home.

‘That’s what alimony gets you,’ joked Elaine. ‘Take notice, girls.’

As they made their final approach, the front door of a neighbouring property opened and two people stepped outside.

‘Mr Ivanovic!’ hailed Elaine, waving. ‘I made it home. This is Kat and Danielle.’

‘Welcome home, Mrs D’Acampo. Young ladies. Have you had a dreadful time? Whatever is happening to the world?’

Elaine continued to smile at her neighbour, Mr Ivanovic, despite the weapon slung over his shoulder, and also that his companion was similarly armed. At first she couldn’t place the other man’s face, but then she recognised him as the security guard.

‘The name’s Ziegler, ma’am,’ the man said.

She could now see that he was still in his uniform. She nodded at him as politely as possible.

‘Your home is fine,’ said Ivanovic, ‘we’ve been safeguarding it. But come in with us, first. We have coffee brewing, and food ready.’

Kat said, ‘Yay!’

So they went into the neighbouring property, which was not Ivanovic’s.

‘The Millers’ house, Mr Ivanovic? Are they here?’

‘Oh, yes, they are out back. Go right through. Have you three ladies been travelling alone?’

‘We had a gentleman with us most of the way,’ answered Elaine.

Kat snorted at the thought of the useless Mr Murphy. They walked through, finding Mr and Mrs Miller tending to a gas barbecue on the rear patio. Two other, separate neighbours, the elderly Mrs Ikin and the teenager, Jacob Jones, were sitting nearby. All four gravitated towards Elaine and there was a tumult of kisses and questions. How did they find the situation out there? Where was the Millers’ son? What of Jacob’s family? Was Mrs Ikin well? The old lady looked drained. They chatted away, Elaine introduced the girls, drinks were passed around, and food was promised soon. But Elaine sensed something wrong - something even outside what was obviously wrong. Ivanovic and Ziegler came through, with the former in a genial mood. They both sat down. Ziegler gestured to Jacob that his beer bottle was empty, so the younger man fetched a fresh one.

‘Not long now with the food, Mr Ivanovic,’ reported Mrs Miller.

Ivanovic gave a deep, satisfied nod. ‘Let’s all relax again, why don’t we?’ Then he looked at Kat and Danielle, watched them all the way down to their seats. ‘Mrs D’Acampo, tell us what’s been happening to you, if you wouldn’t mind.’

Michael sat under a big wooden detached house, on the outskirts of New Haven. Several houses were on fire in the neighbourhood, but he had chosen not to sit under any of those. This property had room for him to hide under because, as it was on a slope, partly up on pillars, he had picked it so he could covertly survey the hive of activity down below. In the foreground, before large buildings and smoke from fires took over, there was a sports club - in his mind, Englishman Michael, insisted on calling it that, even though he knew it was a minor league baseball stadium. It may have been six or seven levels down from the Majors, he had no idea, but it looked impressive, with buildings and bleachers, and the wide expanse of grass which seemed in good condition. He could not make out where the diamond would be, however, as thousands of people were sitting and standing there, awaiting help from the military, who were there in force, with large green tents, and soldiers patrolling with the black spikes of their rifles protruding into the air.

Michael was eating walnuts, taken from the kitchen of the house above; the only thing he could find as it had already been looted of food. He chewed away, and to stop his mind continually going back to the awful scene in the construction site, he thought about home. Not about how his family would be coping with this situation, but about before that. When things were normal, when his parents went to work and he and his brother went to school. About watching football matches and playing cricket with his friends in the back garden (with a tennis ball - they weren’t rich). All his girlfriends came to him, sitting there, all but the current one, and again he felt that was a defence mechanism to stop him fretting. Joanne looked under the house at him, in her school uniform. Priah came to be beside him, her pure Asian skin hard to make out in the gloom. He missed Priah. Then he actually turned his head to listen to Victoria berating him for breaking up with her. Yes, Vicky, I’m sorry. I always regret that. That was it, three old girlfriends, four now in total. There had been that one-night stand at the wild party in Walthamstow - Melissa may have been her name.

Michael was quite comfortable where he was. It was dry and out of the wind. He actually loved walnuts. When he had finished his meal, he picked up the rifle he had brought away from the construction site. He had examined it many times, knew it was loaded, but didn’t think much of it - it was in a poor state, a bit like one in the video games he used to play which would explode when fired. He did not particularly want to join that group of refugees on the baseball diamond, but he thought he should approach the authorities. Since losing Molly and parting from the Doctor and her family, he had felt isolated, avoiding any figures he saw on the roads. He needed information, and some proper food, hopefully. So he climbed out from under there, put the rifle in his rucksack, tied a towel around the protruding part, which was not perfect, but would have to do. Hitching up the rucksack, he set off walking down the hill.

In the event, Michael didn’t make it as far as the sports club, instead finding himself under the aim of several M16 rifles belonging to a US Army patrol. The soldiers approached him, keeping him covered, six tough-looking men, five white, one black. The black soldier was the one to question him. Michael answered honestly and was relieved that the soldier looked less ready to kill him. They talked for a few minutes, in which time Michael was advised twice not to try for New York. Finally it was agreed that Michael’s options were different to those of an American, and that he would be pushing on in search of his girlfriend. The soldier gave him a ration pack and bottled water, and they parted with kind regards.

So, no baseball for Michael Clavell on his American adventure. He hurried away, down empty, windy streets, heading towards the built-up area he had seen previously, planning to get through that and be on the west of New Haven. Only then would he think about the insanely long haul on to New York.

***

‘Tell me about your family. About your home.’

Sabrina looked quizzically at Liam, as though he was not speaking English. It was spitting with rain, they were walking along a train track in Massachusetts, and the man was carrying a bagged tent on his shoulder, like a soldier with a kit bag, going on leave. And he had an Uzi in his hand.

‘My mum’s a nurse,’ Sabrina finally answered. ‘She’s a marvellous woman. My dad was a doctor, but he died when I was nine. They really loved each other so much. He was a wonderful man.’

‘I’m sure he was.’

Liam kept glancing at the fragile, Indonesian girl beside him, finding her more adorable with each passing day spent together. At the same time, he continued to scan all around them, in case anyone else considered interrupting their progress. Once or twice he would look back, seeing all clear, apart from a miserable Allison Davies trailing behind, lugging the stove.

‘I have one sister,’ continued Sabrina, ‘she is a photographer on a
P&O
ship. She loves it.’

‘Oh, really, you should have transferred.’

‘We were looking into it.’

‘Tell me about Jakarta.’

She suddenly stopped walking, distressed. ‘We will be able to find where we left Julius?’

‘Definitely, Sabrina. I marked it well. Don’t worry. Come on, it’s raining again. Let’s get round the next bend. See what faces us.’

What faced them was a tunnel under a highway, which wasn’t very appealing. Before they got there, up on the right hand side of the track there towered an auto-parts store, while on the other was a BMW dealership. As the rain came heavier, Liam decided to take them up to the left. Once upon a time, heading towards a BMW dealership would have excited Liam. Now he just wondered what, if anything, was edible in the showroom. He helped the girls up the bank, and easily kicked a route through a rickety mess fence.

The compound, with hundreds of vehicles, appeared undisturbed. Walking towards the showroom, Liam admired all the cars, wondering if they would ever be driven, or just left to be claimed by nature. He considered putting Sabrina and Allison inside one of the SUV’s, smashing his way into it, until he was sure they were alone on the lot. But the rain was getting silly by then and they were virtually at the big, glass edifice with the BMW logo above the entranceway.

Tentatively, leading with the Uzi, Liam led them into the revolving glass door. Inside was gloomy, which surprised him, but there were dozens of posters on the glass walls which kept out the daylight. Liam checked all around the brand new vehicles on the white tiled floor, went over to the offices and toilets, then jogged upstairs to check there. Clearly the place was empty.

‘It’s okay,’ he called.

Allison found her way to the lounge sofa area, dropped the gas stove on one sofa and herself on another, while Sabrina took a third. Liam examined the coffee machine, but of course it was lifeless. He pocketed the long-life milk cartons and the biscuits. Then he noticed a vending machine against one of the walls. Kicking into it had Allison screaming with shock and shouting at him to give a warning next time. He didn’t bother to apologise, coming back instead with an armful of candy and chips, which they all began to devour.

As soon as they had finished eating, Liam was going to suggest that the girls get some sleep, but they were already attempting to do just that. He watched them for a moment; Allison the (slightly bedraggled now) preened, English, bitch with extremely sexy lips, and the sweet, adorable, Indonesian, trying to sleep sitting up with her head on her chest. Liam left them there and walked over to a BMW 7-series. He got behind the wheel and savoured the fantasy of actually owning the thing. Satisfied with his game, he smiled to himself and set off back upstairs, intending to make a more thorough inspection for anything that could be useful. Through the upper level windows he could see that the rain shower had passed, allowing a little weak sunshine over the portion of Boston visible to him. But it was the sea that caught his attention, having not realised they would enter Boston so near the coast. Whether he was looking out over a harbour or a marina, he was not sure, but there were many small boats at the shore, with multi-coloured houses and buildings, and with what could possibly be a hotel further along.

The boats made him think about sailing home to England. More immediately, with the girls being dog-tired, they could commandeer a small craft and, with some proper supplies, lie low for a couple of days. He would feel safer with water all around them. Then they could strike out away from Boston when refreshed. They would certainly head on that way, and see what developed.

He found only office supplies, a locked safe and the box that housed all the car keys. Technically, for a moment, he owned hundreds of BMWs. He did pick up one of those price boards with the interchangeable numbers that go in the windscreens, intending to put it beside Allison, reading $55, but discarded it as he went back down the stairs.

Liam sat himself down quietly on Sabrina’s sofa. He had a good look about through the windows, before placing the Uzi down and relaxing. Sabrina then stirred in her sleep, craned towards him, and settled with her head in his lap, well away. At first Liam was taken aback. Then he composed himself, and let her sleep.