What Would Humans Do? – Part 3 (A Short Story)

When I came to, I wasn’t lying face down on the floor, but instead sitting on the sofa within the hotel lobby, my head resting on the back. I wasn’t sure how long I had been there for, but unfortunately for me, it was long enough to make my neck hurt from being strained and stretched continuously, and therefore hurt even more when being moved as the muscles contradictory got used to being in that position.

I groaned for both reasons: My neck hurt and I was still tired. The last thing I remember was slipping unconscious within a floor of broken glass. Rubbing my neck to loosen it, I helped it further by turning my head to the left and right. My vision was still hazy, but I still could make out the front door was to my left, where the broken glass remained.

With all the confusion, it took a while before my memories came flooding back. They hit me all at once, shocking my brain back into action, resetting any emotions.

There was someone outside, a woman, and I was running down the stairs to meet them. That’s what made me slip. I was too eager. I smacked my head on the glass. Patting where my head had made contact with the glass, I was relieved to find no blood.

“Hi,” a stranger’s voice came from in front of me. A woman’s voice. Upon hearing her voice, my body’s natural defence system automatically kicked in and jerked my body and mind awake more, but due to my adrenaline not having fully circulated my body yet, the pain my neck seethed before pulsating, forcing me to wince and gasp in pain.

“Yeah, sorry about your neck,” she said, “to be brutally honest, you were heavy even for someone who’s skinny. I struggled to pick you up onto the sofa, and when you were there, you sort of just flopped, and I sort of just left you to rest, mainly because I was out of breath and needed a sit down. I’m not at all strong, you see.”

I was only paying half attention to what she was saying, mainly because I haven’t fully taken in her appearance yet. She had shoulder length brown hair which hadn’t been tidied up after waking up, her facial features were tired – eyes worn out from seeing so much unwanted images, two creases either side of her mouth that may never form a smile again.

I’ve never been unconscious before, and so this is a new experience. Spinning head, hurt muscles – although that factor isn’t entirely down to being unconscious – and hazy vision. It’s been minutes, and I’m still waking up whereas if I were waking from a casual sleep, I’d be up and running by now.

“What were you running to me for, anyway?’ the woman asked curiously, and that’s when I remembered my girlfriend, Stacy. I saw in my mind’s eye her peacefully lying on her side, unmoving. I have to accept that fact. Stacy’s gone. Without explanation. Not only is she gone, but the receptionist also. I remembered running down to meet this woman because she was the only apparent living person. Maybe she could help me, or maybe she could explain everything that’s going on, or maybe she could ultimately make things the way they were, I don’t know, but what I do know is she’s here, Stacy isn’t, and… I’m crying.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked.

Not really something I can answer. Not because I don’t know what to say, but due to not being able to straighten my words. Before I dropped unconscious, my world had been flipped upside down. I lost the love of my life. I lost my life. How do you explain that; especially to a stranger? I only wanted to ask her for help, not explain my entire life story – or lack thereof.

However, apparently, this woman didn’t need me to actually speak my answer, she nodded in sympathy.

“What?” I asked, looking confused and angry.

My question startled her and retaliated with the same back at me, and I answered, fully.

"You nodded as if you understood everything. You don’t even know my name. You’ve never met me before. How the hell can you possibly nod your head, stating you understand." Anger boiled up inside and my knuckles clenched, hard, the skin turning white with pressure.

“I’m sorry,” she said. There was that sense of genuine apologetic tone, but it wasn’t enough to push down my anger. It had hit the brim and was spilling over.

“I very much doubt you are sorry. In fact, I very much doubt you even care remotely about what’s happening in my life. I only wanted to meet you to use you. I wanted your help. My girlfriend, is lying in bed, dead…” I stopped talking there. My throat seized and I swayed on my feet as my head went faint with my anger. When did I stand up?

The woman appeared before me. It took me a while to process she was also standing up. For a moment there, my befuddled, angry brain genuinely believed she was still sitting down yet somehow making it possible for her to be head height and directly in front of me. It didn’t make sense until the red hue toned down a shade, allowing some focusing to return.

She looked even more sympathetic than before, borderline crying. Why was she the one nearing tears when she has nothing be sad over. Is she trying to make me feel better by pretending to share my pain? Well, that’s never going to work. How dare she…

What the hell is she doing?

Before I could register and decipher her movements, her arms were wrapped around me, hugging me tightly. Why?

If there was meant to be some benefit, it’s not happening. The only thing she’s accomplishing is maintaining my anger at a constant level it is now. It’s not rising, but it’s not dropping either. All that’s happening during this few moments are a woman, who isn’t my girlfriend; a stranger, is hugging me because I’m angry at her attempting to understand why there are so many emotions flowing through me at any given time.

And there wasn’t an end in sight. She was still hugging me after so long. Minutes, hours?

And then she released me and stood back, my anger not rising, not dropping, but somehow remaining at that constant level. There’s still anger inside me, bubbling away, but I don’t feel like yelling. Actually, I feel exhausted, tired, and weakened.

“I’m sorry to hear about your girlfriend,” she said. “I lost my family. I lost my five friends. I saw each and every single one of them lying there. I lost everyone I cared for. And loved.” She sighed with contemplation. ‘And so I ran. And I didn’t stop. I was so terrified.’ She went silent as her own memories passed by her eyes once more, making her shudder.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

“Thank you,” she nodded, whispering, but soon gathered herself together once more and shifted her body so to sit upright.

There was no clue as to how to progress. The conversation we were have naturally ended, and it’s not as if there is much to discuss, nor is it the right situation to have a happy, deep discussion about something. Small talk would feel inappropriate – although, any type of conversation in this situation would feel inappropriate. All I want to do right now is… actually, I don’t know what I want to do. Sitting here in silence doesn’t feel right, because I want to get up and find some answers, yet how do I do that, where do I start; can I ask her… I don’t even know her name.

“What’s your name?”

In any other context, the way I asked sounded sharp and would’ve warranted an apology, she didn’t care how I asked, but was somewhat glad the silence had ended.

“Laura. Laura Moore,” she answered. “And your name is?”

“Darren. Darren Day.”

And that was the end of that conversation, if you can even call it that. Two sentences passed between us, one each, before even more awkward silence engulfed us once more. I have come no closer to finding out any answers; all I’ve done is sit here and do nothing.

Laura can’t be the only person alive, can she? I remember the exact reason why I ran downstairs to speak to her, because she was the only person walking around. Turns out she knows only as much as I do, which is absolutely nothing.

She can’t be the only person walking around, can she? I mean, if she knows of other people, she most probably be with them instead of with me, or at least be with both of us. Am I the only person she’s seen since this morning happened? It would make sense, because she hasn’t made any attempt at trying to take me to a safe house or something. We could be the only two people walking around for quite some distance. I very much doubt we’re literally the only two people walking around. The entire world, two people not affected by whatever apocalypse struck the world overnight – 7 billion people – there must be more. We could be the only two people in the country, which would be an annoyance.

“I’m sorry, I can’t sit around any longer,” I said, standing up. Laura snapped to attention, also and copied my actions, standing up alongside me.

“What’re you doing?” I had to ask.

“I’m not going to be on my own again,” she responded, “not when you could be the only living person around for quite some distance.” Whilst that did sound logical, because there is that notion in the back of my mind telling me to let her tag along, the majority of my mind didn’t want any company. Laura can’t help me, otherwise she would have already done so, which means I have to help myself, and if I now have the responsibility of looking after someone else, that’s not going to happen.

“If you were going to useful to me; maybe give me some information, or point me in the right direction so I can get some answers, maybe I would let you stay by my side, but I don’t need your company.” That was all I needed to say. I turned to one side and walked off, leaving her standing there, looking a little shocked.

“So you’re not thinking about how the two of us are better together than alone, then.”

I stopped in my tracks, and sighed whilst turning back around. She was standing her ground.

“Oh, no, you’re not going to do that. I’ve seen enough films and TV to know this speech. If you think you can force your way into my life by giving some deep motivational spiel so to convince me to keep you by my side, you’ve got another thing coming.” I was just about to turn back around when Laura hit me with her biggest hit yet.

“Funny how I allowed you to force your way into my life, yet not allowing me to do the same. I could have left you where you laid, but instead I pulled you from the wreckage. Sure, it was only glass, but who knows what could have happened when you came to.”

I just stood there, staring blankly at the shattered glass on the floor, thinking.

“What you miss, I might spot, and vice versa. Do you really think you’d be able to find all the answers you need on your own?”

“I wouldn’t have had a choice if you never came along,” I fired back.

“True. I certainly would have had to if you didn’t come along, too. But like what Bill Nye once said, “everyone you will ever meet knows something you don’t”. What’s wrong with the two of us sharing each other’s knowledge and together actually doing something productive, or would you rather walk around seemingly aimlessly, trying to find a way to start your off your investigation, but always coming to dead ends – always wondering if Laura could have helped somehow.”

I turned back around.

“You must be aware at how desperate you sound right now. Just how much do you want to stay with me. We know nothing of each other.”

“We don’t have to know anything of each other. We can remain as strangers if you want, but I know you know just how much you want answers; this world coming to an end literally overnight – my family, dead in front of me – I certainly want as much information as I can find.” Laura sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, maybe I do sound desperate. Yes, we know nothing of each other, and I will respect your wish of not talking about our lives for as long as we’re together – after we’ve got our answers, we can split, never to see each other again. You came to me with the hope I’d have answers, and I wish I had them all to share with you, but I don’t. You still are wishing for them, just as much as I am, so with two people hell-bent on not stopping until our heads are clear, we’d make one unstoppable team, wouldn’t we?”

My shoulders slumped. I hung my head low. This world came to an end overnight. My girlfriend, Stacy, lying in bed upstairs… not moving. My eyes water up just seeing her lying there in my mind’s eye. I blink the image away whilst wiping the tears with my sleeve.

Logically, two people are better than one, there’s no denying that. We may know nothing of each other, but Laura is absolutely right. I know knowledge she doesn’t, and she knows knowledge I don’t – and whilst, probably, 99% of what we know wouldn’t be helpful in this situation, maybe that 1% would be.

I do want answers, that is why I ran downstairs. I do want to know what happened.

“Why do you deserve the answers more than me?” she asked faintly, putting the final nail into the conversation, cementing her permanent visitation merits.

I can’t believe she actually persuaded me. She changed my mind.

I looked back up at her and smirked. She smiled back. Laura knew she had worn me down.

“OK,” I said.

“Thank you,” she as professionally as possible through her smile of success. “It does mean a lot to me, you know.”

What am I doing? I can’t leave. I can’t leave Stacy.

My shoulders slumped and my head dropped.

“Are you alright?” Laura asked, genuinely worried about my sudden mood transition.

“I’ll be leaving Stacy. I’ll be leaving her lying there. I can’t do that.” Anger boiled up inside me as my mind made specific connections. I looked up and stared at Laura, who was hesitating between saying something and keeping quiet. I pointed at her, “You manipulated me, persuaded me to leave Stacy’s side, my girlfriend’s side.” I took a step forward; Laura instantly, in sync, took a step back, holding up her hands in front of her indicating innocence, my fear factor increasing tenfold with every step I take.

“How dare you make me leave Stacy lying in her bed, with me not by her side.” My anger was slowly making my sentences become incoherent. “You tugged at my curiosity, purposefully played my emotions. I never want to see your face ever again do you understand me.”

Before Laura could say anything or react any different, I walked off, back to the stairs where I ran up them, two at a time, not stopping until I had reached the floor where our room was, the room door unable to shut from the bent lock and splintering wood. I came to a halt just before the door, breathing heavily, wishing to see Stacy walking around, getting ready for her day out around London. I wished as hard as I could, believed as hard as I could that as soon as I step over the threshold into my room, this apocalyptic nightmare would cease.

Resting my hand on the door, still with the vision of seeing her sitting on the edge of the bed firmly in my mind’s eye, I push gently. I didn’t see her sitting on the edge of the bed, but instead exactly where I left her, lying peacefully on her side.

I can’t believe I actually considered leaving her, yet Stacy wouldn’t even know I was gone. Why does she have to be taken away from the world, not me? I believed so strongly that she would open her eyes and see me standing in the doorway, it hurt; a headache started forming in my temple.

Come on, Stacy, wake up. Please wake up.

Stacy didn’t wake up. A headache formed in my head from believing too hard, forcing me to stop wishing and release the tension all at once. My emotions got the better of my legs once more and I collapsed to the ground. Tears dropped from my eyes, soaking my trousers.

Realising that I nearly left her only made me truly soak in what had happened. The world had come to an end.

My body’s natural defenses kicked in and forced me to move into a more comfortable position, freeing my legs from my upper-body’s weight, coming to rest against the wall opposite, with my head in my hands, and my hands against my knees, I sat there, crying uncontrollably at the knowledge the love of my life was no longer able to sit beside me, comfort me, support me – would be no longer around to be supported by me – live a long and happy life together. Why her? Why do I survive? What the hell happened?

None of it made any sense, and so I sat there, unmoving, my head buried in my hands, not wanting to look up for fear of seeing Stacy lying there once more. I’ll be here for however long it takes for this nightmare to end, until Stacy gets up and comes over to me, puts a hand on my shoulder and tells me everything’s going to be OK. I’ll stay in this very spot until that moment happens. I refuse to do anything else. If she doesn’t get to know the answers, then I refuse to get them for myself. I can’t be selfish. I can’t be rude and leave her. What if she does wake up with me not here – how rude would that be?

And so I sat against the wall opposite our room, like a statue, crying myself dry. Eventually my tear ducks did dry up and so I just sat there in my soaked clothes, waiting for that hand on my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Stacy,” I whispered into my hands.

It was at that moment a soft palm landed on my shoulder. I froze up with puzzlement.

Stacy?

Is that really Stacy?

And then a voice other than Stacy spoke to me, softly, sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so intrusive.”

I’m not sure if I should be happy I’ve got company, or mad that it’s not Stacy who’s sitting beside me. Why has Laura followed me?

For a moment there; for an infinitesimally small moment, I believed it was Stacy; I believed I had woken up from my nightmare, that Stacy somehow found me sleeping in the hallway and came over to comfort me, that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as bad as they seemed. Laura only but confirms I’m still in this nightmare.

I lifted my head up and looked at Laura through the tears in my eyes, making her appearance blurry.

I’m still in this nightmare. I want to be angry, but I’m so emotionally exhausted.            That’s the hardest hitting fact about all of this; I haven’t woken up yet.

I have to accept that.

No why, but, or if, just that I am in this world now.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you.”

Laura deserves an apology. She didn’t do anything wrong.

“You had every right to be angry.”

It was then I noticed Laura’s calm nature. She said she’s lost her friend and family, yet she hasn’t shown any anger.

“How come you’re not angry?” I asked.

“Oh, I am,” she said calmly, contradicting herself. “I’m furious. I’m raging inside. I want to explode and shout and hit things. I want to scream until I go blue in the face, until my throat goes sore, until I collapse to the floor having exhausted my entire capacity to feel anger has been used up, until I go numb from anger, numb from the world.” Laura’s words struck a chord. She more or less just described what I was just thinking. “But what difference will it make. Hurting myself, exhausting myself; physically and mentally making myself immune to this world won’t make any difference to what has happened. I’m also sad. Well, “sad” doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling now, but it’s the smallest word of its kind so easiest to understand and process. I’m sad that they’re gone, I’m curious why I’m still alive, furious that they were taken. Survivors guilt. Maybe that’s what I have. Or maybe I have so many emotions they’re all cancelling themselves out. In truth, I don’t know why I am calm, I just know that it’s better for me to be so, because allowing myself to feel anything other than calm would only but let every emotion I have bubbling inside me out at once, and I’m scared of what will happen.”

A powerful speech – one which clarifies at least one thing.

“You haven’t accepted how this world is yet,” I deduced.

“I’ve got no choice.” An honest answer.

A beat of silence.

“What’s her name?” Laura asked.

“Stacy.”

Another beat of silence.

“How were you able to leave their side?” I asked Laura. It was a direct question, easily classified as an unacceptable one. But I need to know how she done it.

“I wish I knew myself…”

“I didn’t mean to sound so intrusive,” I said.

“You weren’t,” Laura confirmed. A short, simple answer, akin to her emotional state.

A third beat of silence.

“Do you intend to sit here all day?” Laura asked, repaying my abrupt question.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Do you want to know what happened?” she asked.

“Why? Do you know something?” I lifted my head up slightly. A series of thoughts went through my mind in that one instance, connecting a few dots together (probably jumping to conclusions.)

“No; I was just asking if you wanted to go and find out. Sorry if I mislead you there.”

“Oh, it’s alright.” All those thoughts are now invalid.

Honestly, I had hoped she did know something, because of course I want to know what happened. Of course I would want to know the answer to what took the love of my life away from me, what kept me alive when so many people were taken from this world. Of course I want to know every piece of information there is to ever find on what happened – no matter how small or apparently irrelevant a piece is to this matter; I want to know everything.

Laura stating, she doesn’t know anything was a mild disappointment, but I won’t admit that. It turns out, however, I didn’t have to.

“Because you seemed keen to find out what happened earlier when you rushed down to meet me. This may seem inappropriate, but you can’t find out what happened by sitting here forever. I guess, in a way, that’s what drove me out of the house. I ran away from those who I lost because I wanted to know why. I didn’t know it at the time, but I do know – on a subconscious level, I wanted to know why.”

“And what the heck do you think we’re going to do to find the answers, given the world is now at a standstill.”

Laura sighed, “I have absolutely no idea.”

I contemplated that answer. It was a truthful response. Where do we begin, how do we start, what exactly are we meant to be finding? I had my life organised. I had a successful music career, a strong, loving girlfriend, a supportive family – I had all that I ever wanted, and it was stripped from underneath me literally overnight. My impact on this world was good enough to leave a smile on my face, and the world through all that I did right back at me, wiping that smile off forever, plunging me right back into the unknown. I, too, have absolutely no idea myself.

If Stacy was beside me now, instead of Laura, and we were both in this world – what would she want to be doing? Sitting around doing nothing? No. Whilst obviously she would be affected by the sudden shift this world has taken, I know she wouldn’t want to be mulling it over, constantly asking questions she’s never going to be bothered to answer – it’ll be a waste of time. Stacy would want to get up and actually do something. That’s what I should do. That’s how my music career started, by getting up and doing something, not sitting around asking questions and doing nothing. That’s how Stacy and I went out on our first day, because I got up and done something – I asked her out on a date, not sat at the table and wished for it to happen. That’s what I’m going to do now.

I’m not going to sit here and wish for thing to happen, I’m going to honour Stacy’s memory by doing what she knows me best for – getting up and doing stuff. I didn’t know how my music was going to be taken by people, I didn’t know what Stacy’s reaction would be – I had absolutely no idea, and I still don’t, but I went forward and did it anyway, and that’s what I’m going to do now.

“Come on, then,” I said to Laura, uncurling my body and standing up – my determination and adrenaline battling against the aching in my legs as the blood rushes back through.

Laura was caught by surprise by my sudden attitude change, but climbed to her feet and stood beside me.

***

We stood in the lobby, by the revolving doors, staring out into the world. Out there is a brand new world; a darker world; a lonely world; an unknown world. Laura and I stood side by side, studying what little we can see of this world, knowing that this was only but a small section of what is truly out there, and therefore hesitant.

I was determined to stand up, come downstairs, and make my way across the lobby (just as I was determined to stand up and make my way across the room to where Stacy sat) but now we’re about to actually step outside, an understandably strong wave of hesitancy struck us both (just as when Stacy noticed me standing there and looked up from her phone.) The two situations are noticeably different in every way, but the emotions are the same. Hesitancy is hesitancy no matter where you are. I combatted it once before, I certainly can do it again.

Laura and I looked at each other, the same expression morphing our faces – fear.

I saw the bodies lying on the floor from my hotel room. That’s what I’ll be seeing again but without a hotel between us.

There are just so many mysteries, I can’t let them swam my mind.

Once we’ve crossed the threshold, there’s no turning back because if we do, we would never step foot outside ever again. Once we’re out of this hotel, a new life begins.

I couldn’t hear the thoughts rushing though Laura’s head, but she nodded the same time as I did, accepting that we must do this.

We were ready.

And so, in sync, we step forward, letting the natural momentum build up and the other foot to swing forward, pushing us toward the revolving door. We weren’t stopping. The two of us simultaneously lifted our arms up and the palms of our hands collided with the glass of one of the sections of the revolving door, our momentum from walking empowering our upper bodies to move the door forward, and it did with ease.

The hardest part wasn’t getting the door moving, it was breaking free from it. It would be so easy to keep connected with the glass and revolve the door back around and re-enter the hotel. I had to make the conscious decision to disconnect my hands from the glass and step to one side (just as I had to make the conscious decision to actually speak to Stacy. I would’ve been so easy to just turn around and walk on by, but I didn’t.) I won’t back out.

My body had acclimatised to that of the hotel’s temperature, so whilst the outside air wasn’t freezing, it was cold to the skin – forcing my body to retune itself. I didn’t have a voice telling me to stay connected to the door, instead I had Stacy’s voice telling me to take the leap. Her comforting, warm voice told me to lift my hands from the glass and step forward.

And that’s exactly what I did.

Laura followed me. She made the conscious decision also. I wonder what made her do so. Maybe one day I’ll ask, but now’s not the right time.

Laura and I stood outside the hotel. We were officially in the new world. Our new lives had officially begun. There’s no turning back.

Where do we go from here? How do we start finding the answers? How do we survive? (How do I begin the conversation with Stacy? What will her reaction be to my question to ask her out? How do I stay calm?)

Different questions, same meaning.

***

The air was only a couple of degrees below being comfortable. As the hours went by, the clouds crept in, and the sun did its very best to penetrate the thick layer, only making subtle appearances now and again. As the hours went by, the temperature gradually dropped. We had no warm clothes, but our constant roaming around kept our blood pumping, allowing us to cling onto a decent amount of warmth.

There have been many references of an apocalyptic world in films and games, describing abandoned buildings and cars, with not a single soul to be seen. It was so eerie how accurate they represented the very scene I’ve been staring at for hours now. But the one thing that’s common in most worlds is how empty it all is. What cemented the fact that we’re the only two people alive, and strengthened the mystery as to why we’re even alive, is seeing all the bodies. On the ground, in cars, in buildings, everywhere. It was uncomfortable. I can’t turn back and re-enter the hotel, I’m outside now. Laura stood beside me, looking around, not entirely with alien reactions.

“What was your first reaction when you stepped outside?” I asked her, quietly, as calmly as possible.

“It was too clouded with adrenaline after running away from home,” she answered honestly. “But when I calmed down, the realisation that not just my family were affected; that scared me.”

A fourth beat of silence.

“I’m nervous,” I said with a bubbling sensation growing stronger at the bottom of my stomach.

I felt a soft hand touch my palm, which instantly triggered my body to jolt my arm out of the way, only realising straight afterward that Laura had reached out with her hand to grasp mine in an attempt to comfort me. She watched me step to one side, and regretted that decision, silently apologising through her facial expressions. My mind instantly believed the hand belonged to someone else other than Laura, because the last time someone held my hand, it was Stacy. My mind immediately believed Stacy had touched my hand.

With my heart racing, without verbally accepting Laura’s apology, I looked out at the world around me. At the moment, all I can see is a small area, with buildings wrapped around the circumference. It’s London city – it should be heaving with people no matter the hour in the day, but it’s quiet. Even in this small area, with it being so empty and silent, the illusion of it being twice as big, maybe even bigger loomed over me.

“We can head back in, if you want?” Laura asked.

“No,” I immediately shut her down. “I’m out here now. I have to be out here.”

“OK.” Laura said, with no further questions.

My head is so full. The thick treacle of emotions running through my veins forcing every thought to force its way through my mind. I know there are so many thoughts which want to be heard, but cannot make its way to the foreground. Right now, I’m just standing here, practically vacant, only absorbing the information in front of me in small dosages; thinking of nothing else.

A stranger is lying face down to my left. Why?

Another stranger is lying on his side in an awkward position. Why?

Stacy is… Why?

Laura’s parents are… Why?

I’m still standing. We’re the last two standing. Why?

Are we?

We are at this present time…

How many more of us are around?

“You know,” I said to Laura. She turned her head to look at me. “If there are anyone else alive, who would find who first. Would we be standing around here until someone stumbles upon us, or would we be the ones roaming around and stumble upon them?”

Laura looked at me with an understandably confused look, questioning the intent behind my question, but thought about the answer anyway, and after a couple of seconds, she said, “well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

That’s the perfect answer when you don’t know what to say, because it is absolutely, 100% true. I wasn’t expecting or even hoping for that answer, but the moment Laura said it, it made sense. I asked her the question because I couldn’t answer it myself. It was too vague for my mind to find an answer. I’m standing out here, with Laura by my side; I’m starting a new life. Now that I’m outside, there’s no going back. I want to find answers. I want to bring Stacy back.

I sighed with annoyance. I’m tired. I’m scared. Laura is by my side, but I’m lonely. Before me is a new life. I’m annoyed because I don’t know why I asked that question, I just did. I tried to justify and find meaning behind it, but there’s nothing. Her answer is perfect because it’s just as vague as the question – anything else just wouldn’t make any sense, and I wouldn’t have been able to process it anyway.

“Are you alright?” Laura asked.

It took me a couple of seconds to bring myself to answer honestly.

“No; no I am not.”

Laura couldn’t bring herself to look at me, so stared at the ground with a sympathetic look, and agreed with my statement.

“Neither am I.”

Silence.

“Shall we get going, then?” Laura asked casually.

I let out a small breath of defeat – all those thoughts in my head, I’ve given up trying to sort them out. I’m going to just let them sit in my head from now on. If they wish to come out, then so be it, I’m not going to stop them when they do. A slight oxymoron smile appeared on my face – a smile to indicate that there is simply nothing else than can be done. It’s almost as if I’ve exhausted every other emotion the human body can produce, except happiness. Given the situation, of course it’d be wrong to be happy, but it’s the one emotion my body hasn’t gone through since all of this started, and the smile of my face is my mind’s way of saying “I want to be happy just to complete the set.”

The smile slowly grew and an ever so slight chuckle burst out of my mouth. Laura noticed what I was doing and actually took a step away from me – a natural response to something so strange. I shouldn’t be chuckling or smiling – I should be anything but happy, but I have no control over this. I’m going through this emotion whether I like it or not.

And before I had a chance to stop myself, a full on belly laugh burst out of me, forcing me bent double with my hands on my knees. Laura just stood there, not sure what the heck is going on, but confused herself when she discovered the infection that was happiness. It was radiating from my body, and a smile spread across her face before evolving rapidly into a full on laughter track, designed to plant her on the ground, unable to move for the next few minutes. With all my laughter pouring out of me, my head became light and I nearly fell forward onto my head, but my body’s natural defenses kicked in and bent my knees. The adrenaline from the laughter blocked out any pain which erupted throughout my knees and legs as they crashed against the hard concrete below me.

A pulsating pain pierced my stomach and I clutched it tighter and tighter the more and more I laughed, until eventually the pain blossomed and spread into the stomach, cutting the laughter off at its core. I couldn’t breathe properly, tears were streaming down my cheek and into my mouth. I feel backwards, slamming my back against the glass behind me, allowing my body to relax. It had finally processed the one emotion it hadn’t, completing the set.

Laura’s laughter also calmed down and we both sat beside each other, just staring into the building across the street. There was no need to acknowledge or talk about what just happened, it did.

Silence dropped upon us once more. It was the longest silence we’ve ever experienced together. Time ticked away, but there was no indication at just how much had passed. It didn’t matter anyway.

My head was a little less crammed than before, but it wasn’t perfect. I could fall asleep right on this spot, but I forced myself to stay awake. If I give in and fall asleep, I’m going to wake up here, too, and then the whole process of accepting the fact I have to leave begins again – I can just sense that’s exactly what will happen. I have to move. We have to move.

I turned my head to face Laura who I caught her attention via her peripheral vision, and turned to face me.

“There’s nothing better to do,” I said. Laura knew exactly what I meant. I was answering her question from earlier. Laura nodded her head with acceptance that we’re leaving now and we both slowly clambered back to our feet, only now realising just how weak we both are from lack of sustenance over the course of the day so far. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since yesterday evening, and I dare say Laura has gone just as long as well.

We gathered ourselves together, made sure we were comfortable and ready to set off, and without at all knowing what the heck to do first, we just set off. We didn’t pick a direction, we didn’t have a destination, we didn’t have a goal, we didn’t have any real idea of what we’d do, but we started walking away from the hotel…

Beginning a new life.

***

The first night

I didn’t get far before stopping in my tracks. I froze on the spot, standing rigid with nervous thoughts. After turning the corner, onto what would have been a busy London street – we were met with silence, but it was indeed busy. Cars having crashed into buildings, parked cars, lampposts, and a few unfortunate people walking on the paths, unaware of what was happening at the time the world was ending. People – so many people – lying on the floor. I have to navigate this new world, step over them.

Laura stood beside me, looking around the place, but not with the same uneasy expression. She was silent, of course, sad and sympathetic, but not feeling the same as me. Laura was walking around here for some time before meeting me.

“How did you manage to become desensitised to walking around here?” I asked, “because I don’t think I can.”

Laura immediate shot down a specific word, to make it clear she’s not at all used to this place. “First of all,” she began, almost in a snappish fashion, “I have not become desensitised to this place; nowhere near to being used to weaving in and out of this hell.” She breathed in deeply to say what she wanted in one breath, “I ran away because I was shocked; I wasn’t thinking about what the heck was going on anywhere else until I slowed down and stopped running; and then I observed the gravity of the situation; and then I just carried on walking.” She took a second to pause. “I carried on walking because where else would I go. Couldn’t go home, couldn’t go round my friends because instincts automatically told me there weren’t going to welcome my presence, so I carried on walking. And then I found you.”

“So, is that what I should do now, carry on walking?” I asked.

“Can you return to the hotel?” Laura asked rhetorically, but I answered anyway after contemplating it for a couple of seconds, even if it did feel as if I was only pausing unnecessary reasons as I already knew the answer the moment I stepped through the revolving door, and Laura, having already gone through a similar set of emotions, knew exactly what I was thinking, hence the rhetorical nature of the question.

“No.” I said simply.

“Then you are left with only two options; stay standing here forever, or keep moving forward. I know what I’m doing, and I very much would like you to accompany me. As you said, “there’s nothing better to do.””

She used my words; my thought process; my logical conclusion, against me. In any given scenario, that’ll be a dirty move, one which would normally lead me to be a stubborn as can be to make them retract and take back their words. In this scenario, however, it made perfect sense to through my logic back at me, because there truly is nothing better to do but keep moving forward. I obviously can’t stand here forever, I cannot return to the hotel for “that” reason, so I must keep moving forward. It’s the only thing I can do.

I remained silent as my mind accepted it must take that second, first step. I took the first step out of the hotel, and then I came to a standstill. It’s not time to make another first step to finalise my living in this world. My mind took a leap forward itself to think about what we’re going to do for food and drink and living arrangements. Instead of attempting to figure this out all by myself, I instead pitched the question to Laura, which confirmed to her that we’re indeed moving forward.

“What’re we doing for food, when the time comes for us to eat, and drink, and when the sun sets tonight, where’re we going to sleep?”

“Can I be honest with you?” Laura asked.

I nodded.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

“I’m sensing a pattern here,” I said, alluding to the fact she’s used that answer a couple of times now.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to that response, because it’s certainly the only one I can make, given the circumstances,” she said, truthfully, respectfully.

“Fair enough,” I accepted.

A beat of silence.

“Shall we, then?” Laura queried, sickly making it sound as if it was just another normal, causal day. She didn’t mean for that to sound like it did, but how else does she get us both moving from this spot. If she didn’t darkly encourage us both, we really would be standing here all day, contemplating things instead of actually moving forward, something we both want to do, but yet not right this very moment, until I confirm that we are indeed going to make our second, first step forward… and before my thoughts get any more unnecessarily complicated, I turned to face Laura and stated, whilst nodding my head in the direction I know to be the Wembley Stadium and Arena, “If we go over there, we might be able to navigate further.” Of course, in truth, I was simply throwing that idea out there just to get us both moving, not because I genuinely have a plan. Laura knew this as her body language didn’t indicate anything, but just a simple nod of the head and the words.

“Then over there we shall go.”

And I took my second first step, and Laura took her second, first step with me. Maybe one day I’ll ask just how many first steps she had taken since running away from her home this morning, but before I do I had better make sure it actually makes some sense even inside my head, first.

***

Once the momentum begins, it’s hard to stop. Once you’ve started putting one foot in front of the other, that routine remains constant. Once you’ve fought hard to begin, it quickly becomes hard to stop. I don’t want to stop walking. I want to keep walking because if I do stop, I feel as if I’ll never begin again.

This world I knew is no more. The world I left closed my eyes to last night is no longer here. I opened my eyes to a new world. A world which will forever remind me of what it used to be.

Every step I take, every corner I turn, every hill I climb; all I see is what it all used to be.

Bodies. Abandoned cars. Damaged hedges and walls. Open doors and windows.

Apocalyptic.

Nightmarish.

Terrifying.

Lonely.

New.

Laura and haven’t spoken a word since we set off; there’s nothing which needed to be said at this present moment. She’s already taken in a good chunk of this world, but I haven’t. She may be allowing me to consume the imagery, or it really would be pointless to begin a conversation.

There are so many thoughts inside my head. Seeing everyone littered about the place, only but reminding me that I am still alive. Why am I alive. This is a real apocalypse, and it truly is a nightmare, and I am genuinely terrified. My heart is pounding. Even though Laura is beside me, of course I am lonely; no one I know is here – friends, family, Stacy.

All of these feelings I have felt at some point in my life, but due to completely different reasons. I am felt as if am apocalypse has unfolded around me before – everyone has at some point or another. I lost my summer job. Everything crumbled around me. A nightmarish situation in my experience is due to having difficulties trying to get into the college I really want study at. A truly terrifying moment for me was the first time I have ever played on stage. I’ve felt lonely when Stacy and I had our first argument and it was so close to be the end of our relationship. There are too many new experiences to count; every day has something new within the twenty-four-hour period. “You learn something every day,” they say.

Wembley stadium slowly came into view, first the iconic gigantic, metal, white half-circle, which appeared as we reached the apex of a hill. Then followed the stadium itself.

This was the moment I stopped in my tracks. Laura only noticed I was no longer beside her a few steps along and she, too, stopped. Looking back, she noticed my look of nostalgia. There was no other way to describe how I felt. It had to fall into the category of nostalgia, because it genuinely felt so long ago, even though it was just last night, only a few hours ago, since I was standing beside the stadium with Stacy, and then inside Wembley Arena. I suggested that we head over here just for somewhere to go, and now I know why I subconsciously picked this place, because it was the last place of happiness; the last place of normality; the last place the world was one.

“Are you alright?” asked Laura, who didn’t know why I stopped. Her voice overrode my thoughts and I slowly faded back into the world it now is, and looked at Laura who had an understandable look of genuine concern on her face, something which I instantly dismissed with the classic response and a wave of a hand to metaphorically batter the feelings away, whilst I was actually pushing them to the back of my mind once again.

“Yeah; yeah, I’m alright,” and took a step forward, building up that momentum once more. Laura took a couple of seconds to recognise that I had begun walking as she was confused by the moment, but she, too, metaphorically shrugged it away and carried on forward, catching up with me and realigning herself by my side, syncing her steps back in time with mine, continuing onward to Wembley Stadium, a place we’re not sure what we would do there, but it’ll be nice to acknowledge we accomplished getting there.

***

Arriving at the Stadium, it wasn’t at all packed as I first believed it would be. There are a couple of people lying, some dressed in service gear, implying they were either tidying the place after everyone from my concert left, and preparing for the next gig or match to happen. With so little people around, the incident must not have happened dead on midnight, as it would have been obvious to guess there were people still enjoying themselves at that time. This must have happened a few hours after my concert, to allow everyone to leave the area and let the service people go about their jobs.

We were nearing the stadium when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Movement? I think. Snapping my head toward where I thought the movement came from, I unfortunately saw nothing. It was just as desolate as everywhere else has been.

“What’s the matter?” Laura asked, noticing my primed mannerisms.

“I thought I saw movement over there,” I said, still looking in that direction, trying to pinpoint exactly what I might have mistaken to be movement, or if indeed something did move, then decipher what did actually move.

“Where?” Laura asked, sounding rather enthusiastic at the prospect of anything other than us moving. I mean, we haven’t even seen an animal yet, which I have only just noticed.

“I’m not sure if there was any, now that I looking in that direction,” I said.

Laura didn’t need to say anything to tell me she was disappointment, just visibly show me it by letting her shoulders drop.

I turned my attention away from the distance and back toward the stadium, looking at it not with amazement as most people would, but instead with the thought of possibly being one of two people only to see this stadium, and that eventually, maybe, they’ll time a time when the stadium’s grandness will never be awed at ever again.

“It just amazes me that, no matter how many times you come here,” Laura began whilst also drinking in the magnitude of the stadium, “you are still taken aback by it all. Even if I were to live right by the stadium, I could say with total confidence that I wouldn’t get used to seeing this out of my bedroom window every morning, it’s just too awesome, you know.”

“I agree,” I said. “I was here yesterday,” I continued, “and it is as amazing now as it was then.” I wish Stacy was here to bask in all its glory… a wave of sadness washed over me and I lowered my head. I knew it wouldn’t be long before the thought of Stacy not being with me would pop into my head. In a way I’m surprised it lasted this long.

A sound behind me startled me into worrying what the heck is going on now. Laura heard it also as we both swung round on our heels to look at what made the noise. The thing is, this wasn’t just any noise, this was a coughing noise. A fake coughing noise to be precise. A fake coughing noise which had to be generated by someone else. Someone else was behind me. Another person other than us two were behind us two.

And sure enough, as soon as we turned around, our eyes lit up with incomprehension.

He was older than us, but the scruffy nature of his body and clothes made it difficult to pinpoint his exact age, just that he had lines etched into his cheeks and forehead, and bags under his eyes which was obviously not from being awake for too long. From the look of his attire, he appeared to have roamed the area for some time, which wouldn’t make any sense since this apocalypse happened only last night, which means this man must have been homeless. And I say, must have been, because I don’t think it matters if you have a home or not in this particular climate.

Laura was the first to speak with a friendly greeting. “Hi.” It was not returned by the man. Laura’s expression after the strained silence was one of confusion.

The man stepped forward, and then took another, and then another. It legitimately took me more time that it necessary to figure out he’s walking towards us. As he was doing so, he tucked his hand within his jacket, giving the impression he’s ready to pull something out, and sure enough he did. What it was, froze me to the core.

He pulled out a gun, a pistol.

“What’re you…?” was all I could say before he raised it up and cocked in in one swift motion, aiming it at my temple.

“Woah, Woah, Woah,” I said, raising my hands up with innocence. My heart started beating so fast, it felt as if it was trying to tell me it wanted to get the heck out of here, but I didn’t move. My brain overrode any automatic instincts I had purely due to being terrified and shocked about there being an actual other person standing in front of us.

The stranger remained in front of me, his arm outstretched, his gun brushing up against the hair follicles on my forehead.

You know those moments, which afterwards you visualise what you could have done or said, but what actually happened was nothing at all. I knew this was one of those moments, except to change mash things up a bit, I am already visualising all the scenarios which I could have done or said, but instead am doing nothing. I’m standing perfectly still, thinking about the possibility of disarming this stranger, but of course instead just standing stock still, with my hands up, my breath held, and my heart racing faster than it’s ever done before.

Laura is just a witness. I can see it on her face that she’s scared. I can tell she’s also thinking about what she could do, but instead not doing a thing.

Why is he doing this? What gain does he think he’ll achieve if he pulls the trigger? What information will he receive from this situation?

He’s just standing there, as if he’s contemplating pulling the trigger. His actions were drenched with determination whilst walking up to me, but now he’s just standing there, staring straight at me, his eyes locked with mine, not saying a word.

What can I say to make him lower the gun? Maybe I can find the correct order of words to convince him not to pull the trigger, considering the fact that if he truly was determined to, he would have done so already.

“If this works,” he suddenly said, “you’ll thank me later…”

Wait, what‽

Refocusing my gaze onto his finger, I could see it inch backwards. What do I do?

***

(Laura’s perspective)

Despite being in that moment, I never actually believed he would pull the trigger until he did. Darren dropped to the floor as the deafening sound nearly ruptured my eardrums. I winched and slammed my hands against my ears in an attempt to stiffen the noise as best as possible, to no acknowledgeable effect.

The sound hit my ribcage with a strong thud, winding me. If I had screamed in terror, I most certainly didn’t hear it as a loud, high-pitched ringing soon became the only thing I could hear. My eyesight went blurry but soon corrected itself.

The stranger breathed in deeply as if he had to accept what he had done, then finally lowered the gun and put it back into his jacket pocket. The next thing I had to take in was the fact Darren was no longer standing beside me.

Darren was lying on his back, the expression of fear still etched onto his face.

I’ve only known Darren for a couple of hours, but seeing that he’s gone feels like the world has ended once more.

I didn’t know what to feel first. My legs gave way and dropped to my knees, the pain being overridden by the extreme amount of adrenaline pumping through my body.

The stranger was still standing where he fired the gun, as if he was waiting for something. I looked up and his face was vacant of any meaningful expression.

Why did he do that?

I want to scream and shout and punish him, but my body is too weak. First the world ends around me, and now I lose my friend.

When I discovered my family were gone, I didn’t cry. I ran. I ran as far away as I could and I didn’t look back. It was the only thing I knew I could do. I didn’t know why they were gone, just knew that they were.

Now I cried. I let that particular emotion flood through my system, letting the tears run down my cheeks and splash onto Darren’s body.

***

(Stranger’s perspective)

“If this works, you’ll thank me later…”

If this works he won’t thank me later. He’ll find out the terrible truth which has affected all of us.

If this works…

The world the two of them discovered this morning will drastically change once more.

If this works, I’ll need to explain that I knew it was going to happen. I knew it was going to happen because I, too, experienced the truth. Twice.

The woman was on her knees, disabled from shock of seeing her friend get shot. I had to shoot him. I had to find out for myself if this was happening to only me. I’ve never shot anyone before, but it had to happen. The boom from the gun echoed around the area. The adrenaline and shock from having actually pulled the trigger dampened any side-effects. I didn’t winch as much as the woman did, just stood there. I didn’t have the mental capacity to feel terrified at what I had just done because I was just so shocked that I actually did… but it had to happen. It had to happen. It absolutely had to happen.

If this works, it would be the only way to tell them the truth, because explaining it to them would only make me sound crazy. Killing this stranger was the only way to tell them the truth… maybe…

Nothing’s happened.

Silence.

Come on; it has to happen. It has to work. It can’t only affect me…

Nothing’s happened.

Silence. A beat.

I could feel every second stretching out further in front of me as I waited… Nothing’s happened. Silence…

Oh, heck.

What have I done?

TO BE CONTINUED...