Emma Zeth - The Lucky Prepper - A Gardener's Story of Surviving a Pandemic

The car sounded incredibly loud in the darkness, The noise was an assault after the near silence of the previous days and I hunched into my seat. I moved off as quickly as I could. It was lucky my car was an automatic, I was so nervous I would have stalled it for sure, if it had been a manual. As it was, I clipped the curb going round the corner. I swept up the road to the T-junction and then turned left to the traffic lights, which were red. I ignored them and carried on through; it seemed a bit pointless to obey the traffic laws when mine was the only car on the road. The empty downhill slope had my car quickly reaching 60mph. But at the roundabout I slowed. There hadn’t been a single soul so far, I sped up again, the engine roaring in the night; if there was anyone around, I didn’t want to give them any time to block the road. I powered along the straight, zipping round the mini roundabouts. This was fun, like freewheeling on the bike but better.

At 3am Harrow was on blackout so my headlights were the only light around. The night was still and warm. I wound the windows down but couldn’t hear anything over the engine noise. I was still doing about 40mph, even accounting for all the mini roundabouts, and as I approached the first crossroads, I craned to see if it was blocked. It seemed clear so I raced through, flooring the pedal and heading south for the shopping centre. The noise of the car carried through the air and I could see doors opening as I sped past, luckily at the speeds I was going, no-one had a chance to get out onto the road.

I knew I would have to slow at some point to turn east. When I had walked this route, I had gone past the junction, as it had been so dark. This time I had headlights, but it still caught me by surprise. I stamped on the brakes, which squealed as I turned the car sharply left. The car skidded and swung wide, and I pulled the wheel tighter, I had been going too fast and almost didn’t make the turn; there was a signpost just ahead, and the front of the car bumped up onto the pavement and down again onto the road, missing it by a hair’s breadth. I straightened out too quickly and almost lost control again, before accelerating away down the road. After a second or two, I took the speed down a notch; that had been too close.

The next few turns were much wider, and then I was on the main road to mum’s. The turn off had speed bumps and I was forced to slow right down. I still got an awful jolting. I cut though a few side streets and then I was on the road beside the park. Mum’s house was on a crescent off this one, and I was approaching quickly… if I didn’t want to bring everyone to her door, I would need to park up before I got there.

I saw an empty driveway and made a split-second decision. I pulled in and switched off the engine. Then I jumped out, pulled the bike from the back, locked the car, and quickly cycled away. A couple of lights flashed on in the surrounding houses as I quickly slipped into mum’s road. I had made it safely through, now I just needed to find out what had happened to mum and Vik.

I got off the bike and slowly wheeled it down the road to mum’s house. Everything seemed relatively quiet. I walked into the drive, holding on to the bike, and paused in the porch. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see anything. I reached out with my hand, groping towards the door, but my fingers met only empty air… the door was open. My breath came faster and I strained to see. I didn’t want to go in. I couldn’t see anything, and I didn’t want to alert everyone to my presence by shining a light in the darkness.

I called quietly. ‘Mum?’ ‘Vik?’ but there was no response. Where were they? What had happened? I stepped back and round to the side gate. Again it was too dark to see if it was open or closed, but as I groped forward, I felt the solid wood against my fingers. It was firmly closed. I went back to the front door and hovered, undecided. After waiting what seemed like forever, I propped the bike against the wall of the porch and stepped over the threshold and into the house.

I was petrified of what I would find. I couldn’t hear or see anything; there was a slight smell I couldn’t identify, but I could feel no movement of the air. I needed to see so I pushed back the door behind me until it touched the doorjamb, then pulled out the torch from my pocket and flashed it on and off.

In that quick flash of light I glimpsed the house as normal; dark varnished wood of the staircase ahead, kitchen door beyond, the lighter wood of the parquet floor seemed clear. I stepped forward and trailed my right hand against the wall until I felt the closed wooden door of the living room. I felt down to the handle and keyhole and my fingers brushed the key; good; they had done the same as me and closed the front living room, to make the house look empty. I tried the handle, just in case, but it was locked.

I stepped forwards to the space where the dining room door was. The door was open. I paused listening intently. Something was different; I could feel slightly cooler air, coming from the room. I stepped in, then stopped and stepped back. The last time I had been here, the dining room had been a mess, over-cluttered with furniture it was a minefield to get through. The back of the dining room led to the conservatory. Any light I shone in this room would be visible to the garden outside, but without it I was bound to bang into something.

I turned instead to the kitchen. The smell was stronger here; something burnt. There was a faint light in the darkness; it was the cooker, the gas fire was still on under a saucepan. ‘mum?, Vik?’ I whispered again. I stepped into the kitchen and crunched on something, not glass; it was quieter and felt more like grit. I moved over to the cooker. I needed more light, I couldn’t see anything, but the windows of the kitchen looked out to the conservatory, and the back door was paned with glass. If I shone the torch it would be immediately visible from outside. Instead I pushed the pan off the fire and turned it up high so I could see slightly better. Then I lit the other rings. The fire illuminated the room with a steady blue glow.

The kitchen was a mess, all the cupboards were open and empty, and packets and jars were scattered across the countertop. It looked like the floor was covered in rice. My heart beating fast, I opened the cutlery drawer and took out the backdoor key. I unlocked the door and walked onto the patio. As I stepped forward, there was a distinctive crunch of glass; the light from the kitchen fire reflected in the glass panes of the conservatory, all except one pane in the door at the side. Someone had smashed it in.

Hurrying slightly now, I went back into the house and up the stairs. It was unlikely that whoever had done this was still here, but mum and Vik might be upstairs somewhere, hiding or hurt. I searched the whole house, shining my torch into every corner, but there was no sign of them. I even went onto the crawl space in the loft, but apart from some plastic crates of food and water, it was empty. They had obviously been taking precautions, but they were no longer here. In a way it was reassuring, I had been imagining them sick or worse. Every room had been nerve-wracking to enter, wondering if they were inside, lying there. Finding the place empty was a relief in a way. Only, if they were ok, I couldn’t work out why they hadn’t called me.

I waited out the couple of hours until the sun rose, then went into the garden again. I could see the work they had been doing in the new vegetable beds, but their plants were several months behind mine; it would be a long time before there were any tomatoes or potatoes. I went around the edge of the garden, and at the side found several boards that had been prised off the fence and were lying broken on the ground. It didn’t look like Vik’s work; he would have been more careful and would have made a way of getting in and out that was neater, something he could secure.