Lee Kerr - Welcome to the Apocalypse

‘Go to McDonalds,’ Mike commands the other two. ‘See if you can get on the Wi-Fi.’

Luke doesn’t say anything to them, as he turns back to Mike. ‘Dave confirms it’s a network blackout and we need to be ready.’

Mike simply nods, and the moment the other two are out of earshot he checks the view ahead through his holographic sight, nodding to himself again as he looks around.

Luke looks up at the sky again, seeing the cloud formations that seem to be joining together and tightening up, doing their best to block out any remaining blue sky. He almost feels the tension in the air and he can’t help but agree that this isn’t a training exercise.

‘Meatballs,’ Dad says, as a plate of meatballs is put in front of him. This is followed by a plate of chips, and a glass of Coke. He looks up at her, his face slightly creased.

She knows what he’s thinking and soon pulls a cake out of her coat pocket, wrapped in a napkin, the chocolate smeared across it. She puts it down and licks the runaway chocolate off her hand.

He looks down at it and then looks up at her.

She gives him a smack, staining his cheek with sticky proof of her uncontrollable frustration. ‘They ain’t got no other cake that I can fit in me pocket, so that’s what you’re getting. And we’re sharing pop so you’re getting up to refill the bloody thing.’

The kids set down their food and start to pull out their own extras from their pockets. Ashley notices one of the staff looking at him but they don’t seem in the slightest bit bothered. He knows that this has to be because of what is happening today. They’ve probably been recorded on the camera but he’s not sure anything will ever come of it. ‘Why can’t I have my mattress?’ he asks, in between mouthfuls of chips.

‘Oh, fucking hell, Ashley,’ his mum says, spitting juice all over him and the table. ‘I told you already they ain’t got the cheap one in stock and I ain’t forking out a hundred quid.’

‘So I have to sleep in my own piss?’

His sisters start laughing and shouting ‘Pissy pants, pissy pants, who’s got pissy pants?’ Cortnee gets onto a chair to do a dance; they don’t look like they’re going to stop any time soon as she wiggles about and her sister calls out some beats to help the rhythm. Ashley starts to feel the anger swell within him; anger at being part of such a shocking family, and fear that he has another whole year to go before he can escape.

At this moment, as Ashley is considering how he will ever cope with this until he reaches sixteen, his sister, who is still dancing above him, a drink in her hand, has a bright idea: she decides to pour it all over his trousers. Her aim is impeccable, and most of the liquid lands square on his crotch, soaking its way into his light blue jeans before he can think of moving.

By the time he pushes his chair back and gets out of the way, the damage has been done. He looks at those around him, his family – the people who are supposed to look out for him. His sisters are still screaming ‘pissy pants’, one from above him and one from across the table. His mum soon joins in, a finger pointed at his crotch, as she laughs at him. He feels the absence of any love, so much so that it causes him to choke. He looks at his dad, the one person who would always have stood up for him in the past; the man who might give him a slap when he deserved it, but who would just have easily rubbed his hair and told him that the re-gearing of his bike chain or the shelf he put up in the kitchen was spot-on. But now there is nothing, as the thing that only looks like his old man shovels food into his gob, completely oblivious to what is going on.

That really is the last straw for Ashley; his dad has gone and he has reached his limit. He looks at his mum, who is still laughing her head off, and then he looks across the table at his sister, who is grabbing Mum’s arm, desperate to keep on the right side of her. Time seems to move slower now, as he looks up at his other sister, still laughing from up high, always looking down at him.

He leans down and grabs two of the chair legs, properly bending over, making sure he gets all the weight into his legs, and with one final glance up at his sister he knows she can see what’s coming. She tries to move as she lifts a leg to leap onto the table, but she’s too slow. Ashley pulls the chair with both hands. He puts every ounce of energy, of passion, and hatred into pulling that chair up and away, and does so with such force that it swings behind him and then flies across the restaurant.

He looks to see where it lands, impressed with how far it went, and when he turns back he sees his sister landing on the table, squashing the food and sending a scattering of chips and juice across the floor. She’s screaming now and Ashley feels eternally disappointed that her head didn’t hit something, so that his mind could be given a bit of a rest.

His mum and sister are yelling too, as they furiously scrub the meatball juice off their clothes before it dries. No one helps Cortnee as she scrambles around on the table, desperately trying to pick herself up as her hands slip on the plastic covering, now coated with all manner of sauces and crushed food.

Ashley starts to laugh, first at his sister and then at his dad, as he sees him picking around his daughter’s body at the surviving food.

‘Don’t just fucking sit there!’ Mum shouts at him as she looks on in horror.

But that’s exactly what Dad does, keeping low and calmly rescuing what food he can. He’s not just tucking into the food on his own plate anymore, but whatever he can salvage. He helpfully picks a meatball out of Cortnee’s mangled hair, everything going into his mouth before it gets squashed by her frantic movements.

Mum looks over at Ashley, her face creased with anger. ‘You’re going to get the belt across your fucking back when we get home. You’re sisters are gonna hold you down and I’m going to lash you raw, you filthy, piss-stinking little faggot.’

Ashley says nothing, as the family fall silent, everyone allowing his mum’s sharp tongue to do its worst.

She takes a chance to look around, to savour her victory, and then he looks at Ashley. ‘Now, help get your sister down off that fucking table.’

Ashley nods, looking down at his sister. She is lying still now, clearly expecting him to help her. She thinks about the punishment she’s going to dish out, far in excess of whatever their mum does. The lashing will probably start just before The X Factor , and he’ll be left in his room to nurse his wounds, with no supper and certainly no TV. And once the show is over then her and Jade will get on with the night of torment. She thinks she will start with shaving his eyebrows and then try some more extreme ideas. She thinks about leaving him tied down and using him as a toilet all night; his own piss combined with whatever she and her sister can expunge from their bowels onto his stinking face.

She looks up at Ashley and he looks back; he knows what’s in store for him. You don’t have to be a genius to work out that if he goes back to the house tonight he will face horrors far worse than whatever is lurking outside the store. It is at that moment that Ashley truly knows he is on his own, and when you acknowledge that you’ve only got yourself left in the world, your perception of the rules seem to change.

‘I’ll help you down, dear sister,’ he says, taking hold of both her legs.

Cortnee hears the tone in his voice and realises that she is too exposed. Ashley has always been bigger than his age, and these last couple of years have seen his muscles grow and his puppy fat disappear. Even through all those baggy jumpers he always wears she could see the change. What she will never know is that Ashley has been doing five hundred push-ups every day, ever since the day he first realised it was taking both of his sisters to pin him down. And now with just one to deal with, it was no difficulty at all to swing her off that table and onto the floor. He couldn’t have timed it better: her head hit the leg of the table behind, making her scream out in pain. It’s not quite hard enough to knock her unconscious but it is enough to set blood streaming down her face, which pleases Ashley greatly.