brooding good looks.”
“Don’t joke about it.”
“I’m not, believe me. I wish I could joke about it. You’re lucky I’m letting you stay tonight after stealing that knife and telling me a load of crazy shit.”
“Fair enough,” said Mason, too tired to start an argument or try to convince her.
He turned to walk away, but froze in place when the lights in the house went out.
*
Ellie clicked on the torch she’d taken from the cupboard under the sink and then lit two candles in the living room while Mason stood and watched. He made sure to stay away from the doors and windows.
Immediately after the lights had gone out, he’d gone around the inside of the house and checked each light switch and electrical socket without success. After that he had peered from between the curtains over the living room window and saw that the streetlights were out. Darkness out there except for the moon’s faint illumination and the soft glow of candles in the neighbours’ windows. When he thought of the entire town without power and shrouded in the dark, he felt his insides rear and judder with anxiety.
He listened for screams out in the night and placed one hand to his churning and gas-bloated stomach. The back of his arms prickled as if covered by needle-limbed insects. The back of his mouth watered with nausea. He imagined Calvin, Zeke and the others rising from the floor of that room in the abandoned house, trembling with hunger and awful cravings. He imagined them going out into the night, in the blackout, to hunt.
He thought he could hear a distant ambulance siren somewhere within the town. Ellie heard it, too, because she looked at Mason with something like a concerned frown creasing her brow. She was putting on her coat.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
“I’m going to check on Agnes, the old lady who lives down the road.”
“You shouldn’t go outside.”
“Agnes will need help. She gets confused.”
“Please stay here, Ellie.”
She zipped up her coat and looked at him. “Stay here if you like. You don’t have to come.”
Mason turned his face towards the curtained window, shook his head as he sighed. Then he reached for his jacket.
*
The thin beam of Mason’s torch was feeble against the darkness below the sky of stars. They walked down the road, past darkened houses and windows of meagre candlelight. A face peered out at them from an upstairs window.
There was the occasional glimpse of car headlights flashing past buildings. A horn sounded from somewhere in the next street.
Mason shivered in the cold, glancing around, as he walked behind Ellie. She directed her torch straight ahead, her breath misting the air before her face.
Inhaling through his nose, Mason tried to calm his jangling nerves and rapid pulse. When a hoarse voice shouted something indistinct from behind a row of houses, he flinched. His eyes scanned the dark.
They reached Agnes’ house. Ellie nodded at a blue Ford Fiesta parked by the kerb. “That’s the nurse’s car.”
Mason stopped beside her. “Then Agnes is being looked after. Nothing to worry about. Let’s go back.”
“The nurse is only a young girl,” said Ellie. “She’s just started the job. I want to make sure.”
Mason’s heart sank as he followed Ellie up the garden path that cleaved a lawn of patchy grass and flattened molehills. The house was dark inside, with no light beyond the windows. The curtains had been pulled back.
Ellie knocked three times on the door and waited. Mason cleared his throat then glanced back at the street, shining his torch about. He listened to the suggestion of distant voices carried on the night breeze. They sounded distorted, as if spoken underwater. And then a loud metallic bang from out of the town
“Don’t joke about it.”
“I’m not, believe me. I wish I could joke about it. You’re lucky I’m letting you stay tonight after stealing that knife and telling me a load of crazy shit.”
“Fair enough,” said Mason, too tired to start an argument or try to convince her.
He turned to walk away, but froze in place when the lights in the house went out.
*
Ellie clicked on the torch she’d taken from the cupboard under the sink and then lit two candles in the living room while Mason stood and watched. He made sure to stay away from the doors and windows.
Immediately after the lights had gone out, he’d gone around the inside of the house and checked each light switch and electrical socket without success. After that he had peered from between the curtains over the living room window and saw that the streetlights were out. Darkness out there except for the moon’s faint illumination and the soft glow of candles in the neighbours’ windows. When he thought of the entire town without power and shrouded in the dark, he felt his insides rear and judder with anxiety.
He listened for screams out in the night and placed one hand to his churning and gas-bloated stomach. The back of his arms prickled as if covered by needle-limbed insects. The back of his mouth watered with nausea. He imagined Calvin, Zeke and the others rising from the floor of that room in the abandoned house, trembling with hunger and awful cravings. He imagined them going out into the night, in the blackout, to hunt.
He thought he could hear a distant ambulance siren somewhere within the town. Ellie heard it, too, because she looked at Mason with something like a concerned frown creasing her brow. She was putting on her coat.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
“I’m going to check on Agnes, the old lady who lives down the road.”
“You shouldn’t go outside.”
“Agnes will need help. She gets confused.”
“Please stay here, Ellie.”
She zipped up her coat and looked at him. “Stay here if you like. You don’t have to come.”
Mason turned his face towards the curtained window, shook his head as he sighed. Then he reached for his jacket.
*
The thin beam of Mason’s torch was feeble against the darkness below the sky of stars. They walked down the road, past darkened houses and windows of meagre candlelight. A face peered out at them from an upstairs window.
There was the occasional glimpse of car headlights flashing past buildings. A horn sounded from somewhere in the next street.
Mason shivered in the cold, glancing around, as he walked behind Ellie. She directed her torch straight ahead, her breath misting the air before her face.
Inhaling through his nose, Mason tried to calm his jangling nerves and rapid pulse. When a hoarse voice shouted something indistinct from behind a row of houses, he flinched. His eyes scanned the dark.
They reached Agnes’ house. Ellie nodded at a blue Ford Fiesta parked by the kerb. “That’s the nurse’s car.”
Mason stopped beside her. “Then Agnes is being looked after. Nothing to worry about. Let’s go back.”
“The nurse is only a young girl,” said Ellie. “She’s just started the job. I want to make sure.”
Mason’s heart sank as he followed Ellie up the garden path that cleaved a lawn of patchy grass and flattened molehills. The house was dark inside, with no light beyond the windows. The curtains had been pulled back.
Ellie knocked three times on the door and waited. Mason cleared his throat then glanced back at the street, shining his torch about. He listened to the suggestion of distant voices carried on the night breeze. They sounded distorted, as if spoken underwater. And then a loud metallic bang from out of the town
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