The staff minibus parked outside the gate was more brown than white nowadays, covered in a year’s worth of dust, crud, and bird droppings. It summoned memories of museum trips and days at the zoo. She supposed all the captive animals in England were now dead – the lions, giraffes, meerkats, and reindeer. Such a waste. Endangered animals now fully extinct. That hurt more than she would have thought. Enough to stop her feet moving.
“What’s wrong?” Mike asked.
“What’s it like out there, really? Are there bodies?
“A lot of bones and old clothes mostly. Nothing… fresh. You stop noticing it after a while. I think the dogs and birds took care of the worst.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Mike.”
He grabbed her by both arms and looked at her, piercing her with his light green eyes. “Hey, this is a date – and I always look after my dates.”
“Go on a lot of them, do you?”
“Not recently. Come on, I promise it’s not as bad as your imagination is telling you.”
She took a deep breath and wiped her moist palms on the hips of her trousers. It took a moment, but she was able to swallow down her fear and stifle her doubts. “Okay, but I don’t give anything up on a first date.”
“Noted. Let me get the padlock.”
Stella waited while Mike used his key to open the gate. She knew it was her imagination, but she felt a rush of air leaping at her like a gasket had burst.
“Relax,” said Mike. “I’ve done this before, remember?”
Stella nodded and took his arm, then allowed him to guide her towards the gap at the front of the minibus. He slid through first but kept his arm out so she could continue to hold it. She pushed herself into the gap, and suddenly the sanctuary that had kept her safe was behind her. Her veins filled with ice. She wanted to dash back inside. Then she was past the minibus and standing firmly on the pavement outside the school. It sent tingles through her toes.
“I’m outside,” she gushed, barely able to control her mad grinning. “It really is safe, isn’t it?”
Mike was grinning too, her joy apparently contagious. “I’m not saying we should skip around singing ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’ at the top of our lungs, but I think it’s safe to explore a little. We won’t have a choice soon, anyway. We’ve performed miracles with what little food we have.”
Stella grinned a little wider, knowing the credit belonged to her. She’d been the one to ration the supplies from the school cafeteria, using the most perishable items first, and stretching out the flour, pasta, and sugar for almost an entire year. The school’s vegetable garden and greenhouse had helped a little too. If not for her, they might have all starved. Not bad for a history teacher.
The first step, from the pavement to the road, terrified her, but that fear quickly faded as she took the second and the third. She could barely contain the emotions coursing through her and felt harassed by her own beating heart.
Then she saw the bodies.
As Mike had said, the corpses were more bundles of cloth and bone than anything that had once been human. A terrible thing, but the sight of them was surprisingly tolerable. It might even be possible to ignore them. Less easy to ignore was the torn apart cat in the gutter. Its corpse was fresh and half-eaten, a clear victim of the dogs Mike had spoken of. Mankind’s rule no longer existed. Only nature remained – and dog ate cat.
“The park’s just down here,” said Mike, leading her to a small access road running beside Marty’s Salon. Stella could still vividly remember the haircuts she had received there. Seeing the place again was surreal. The world was an echo, an echo spoiled by dead cats and piles of old bones. It took an effort to stay focused on the positive, on the fact she was outside for the first time in a year. That she was holding hands with a man.
On a date.
I’m being so silly.
They walked in silence down the access road, passing behind shops that had once traded seven days a week. The only sound now was the clip-clop of their shoes – a noise that would never have competed in the days of grumbling car engines and ch-chinging tills.
“It’s right around here,” said Mike.
Stella nodded. “I remember. It’s like I was here yesterday.”
“Weird, isn’t it? I can still remember every detail, even the graffiti on the wall behind the Chinese.”
Sure enough, bright orange letters on the wall behind the Chinese takeaway still read: MY NAME AIN’T COREY, BITCH.
She giggled.
Mike frowned. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Everything is different… but the same, you know? I can’t figure out whether I like it or not.”
“Nothing wrong with being reminded of how things used to be. It might help us get back to where we were.”
“Perhaps.”
They exited the access road and strolled across a zebra crossing – not that such pedestrian aids were necessary anymore. Abandoned cars lined the kerbs, some with their doors hanging wide open. Some with decaying corpses behind the wheel.
But the park was perfect.
The aluminium slide glinted in the weak sunlight while a pair of swings swayed back and forth gently in the breeze. Leaves covered the ground inside the gated enclosure, but it only made things more unspoiled and grotto-like. Despite her age – she must have had her fortieth birthday by now, she thought – Stella yearned to climb the colourful bars and descend the slide, to have a carefree moment after so much desperation.
Mike seemed to read her mind, because he let go of her hand and raced ahead, hurdling the low metal railings and leaping up the stubby ladder
