Empty World by John Christopher Page A

relatively easy.
    He made four trips before he decided to call it a day. He had the beginnings of a stockpile, and even if he woke up changed in the morning and was too feeble to do much more in the way of fetching, he could show Tommy where to go. He was very tired, but contented.
    There was one more thing needed doing in the house. He went upstairs for the first time and looked at what was there: three bodies in all, two in one room and the third in another. He steeled himself to pull that one off the bed and drag it in its sheet along the landing and into the room with the others. Even had he been able to bear it, he could not spare the time burial would have required. The bedroom had a key: he turned it behind him and went downstairs. Before mounting his bicycle, he threw the key far off into a shrubbery.
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    Neil had a moment’s apprehension as he pushed the bicycle up the last bit of the hill, under the stone gateway, that he might not find them there—that they might have wandered away during his absence. But Susie appeared in the hallway, answering his call and stumbling towards him with her rolling infant’s gait. He picked her up and carried her through, calling Tommy, who answered from the garden.
    There was something odd in his voice and Neil wondered if he might be getting a summer cold. He would need to add a few basic medicaments to the farmhouse store, and advice on using them. Tommycame in, walking slowly as though he were tired, but he reminded himself it had been a long day, involving some strenuous playing probably. He put Susie down, despite her protests, and went to greet the boy.
    He stopped some feet away, struggling not to show his incredulity and horror. A little old man stared at him from the face of a child.
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    Neil had a feeling of revulsion which it was not easy to master, but he managed—holding the ageing boy in his arms, kissing him at bedtime. Tommy had no idea of what was happening, and there was a chance, Neil thought, that he need not do so during the time remaining. He made an excuse to put them in separate rooms, in case Susie revealed something in her baby-talk, and went round the house hiding mirrors. The ones above the dressing tables he dismantled, and he locked the room which had the wardrobe with a full-length mirror in the door.
    The precautions were unnecessary. In the morning Tommy said he was tired, and it was no problem to persuade him to stay in bed. Susie, on the other hand, was full of energy, and he took her downstairsto give her breakfast. He had no appetite himself, and sat watching her and trying to behave normally as she chattered away.
    â€œWhere Tommy?” she demanded at one point.
    Neil said: “Tommy’s not very well. He’s staying in bed this morning.”
    She nodded, accepting it as natural, and reached for another biscuit. Her face glowed with health and her thick blonde hair was tangled, despite his having brushed and combed it less than half an hour before. Although he had reconciled himself to what had happened to Tommy, he could not believe she would suffer the same fate. But if not, what difference did it make? Tommy might have had a chance of surviving in a world empty of people. For Susie there was none: she would perish within days of his protection being removed.
    It was almost with relief that he heard her complain, in mid-afternoon, of being tired, and subsequently saw the chubby face starting to lose its pinkness, drying and wrinkling. He put her to bed early, and she did not object. In the other bedroom he found Tommy awake, but very feeble. He asked in a cracked whisper for a drink of water, and Neilbrought him a glass and held it to his lips: his arms were too weak to support it.
    Tommy whispered again: “You won’t go away, Neil?”
    He shook his head. “I won’t go away.”
    Neil slept that night on a mattress which he dragged through to the