Page 11 of The Two of Us at the End of the World

Somehow his hand has disappeared inside his cape and come out with a handgun in it which is pointing the little black hole at the end of the barrel right at my eye.

His smile has gone and the slash of his mouth curls into a snarl as he shouts something at me. His eyes are blanker and darker than the gun muzzle.

And I realise we’ve made a terrible mistake.

Hey! says Cat, stepping towards him.

He backhands her, hard with the other hand. He’s twice as big as her and he has something metal like a pair of big rings gripped in his fist which makes it worse. Time goes a bit slow somehow and I see her head snap sideways as the force of the blow spins her round and I can actually feel it, the jag of outrage is so immediate and strong as I hear the flat smack of the metal in his hand hitting Cat’s face and then there’s a thunking noise like an axe biting into a stump. And then there’s a grunt of shock and a gurgling and then the day rips open with a sound like a thunderclap as the gun in his hand bucks high and flashes hot and only then do I feel the burn of the bowstring on my forearm and realise the arrow’s gone, of course it’s gone, because it’s sticking out of his throat as he falls backwards into the nettles.

I did it without meaning to, I did it faster than thought, faster than even Cat could have done it, so fast she didn’t see it because she stumbles out of her spin with blood on her teeth, hand scrabbling for the knife in her belt and then she stops dead and looks stupidly at the space in the air where he was standing just a moment ago.

Mouse, she says. What…?

She looks down and sees his heels, his dying heels, hacking at the ground, grinding through the moss and into the crumbling tarmac beneath, his legs spasming as if he’s trying to push himself deeper and deeper into the nettle clump, but they are getting weaker with each kick and then there’s a sudden ugly choking sound that stops the gurgling and the feet go still, apart from a twitch or two, like a dead rabbit.

Mouse, she says. Oh Mouse…

I hear a voice that’s so low it’s almost lost in the rain that’s now falling heavier than ever.

He shouldn’t have hit you, it says.

I’m suddenly so numb it takes a moment to realise it’s mine.

Chapter 6

Bigger than a fox, smaller than a wolf

Mouse – Year 201 AG

It’s Cat who goes into the nettles to see if he’s alive. My ears are still ringing with the sound of the gun’s thunderclap. I keep checking myself for the hole that miraculously still isn’t there. I can’t believe the gun missed me from so close. I can’t believe anything that small could be that loud.

There’s quite a lot of blood, she says after a bit with her voice sounding scratchy and low.

I can’t string a long sentence like that together in my head, let alone get it out of my mouth.

I’m, I say. I don’t. I just. I didn’t. I…

I know, she says.

The rain doesn’t care what happened just now, just then, just a minute, just a whole lifetime ago. It just keeps on falling. It’s the only thing that seems to be able to penetrate the unending moment I seem to be stuck in, the one where every movement seems pointless and there’s nothing to say even if I could.

I watch Cat in the nettles. She seems sluggish too. She doesn’t look at me.

I always thought it would be me protecting you, she says. If something happened.

Yes, I say. It’s. Um.

I have my head tilted back so I can feel the rain on my face. I try not to mind the drops falling in my eyes. It’s OK if I blink a lot. I could close them, but I know I’m not meant to. I know the stinging of the rain is meant for me. It stops me from feeling I am going to throw up the big hard bubble that has suddenly appeared in my chest, the one that feels like it’s going to choke me if I let it move. It almost stops me listening to the sound of blood beating in my ears. Almost. Thump thump thump thu—

Mouse, Cat says. Mouse.

I’m finding it difficult to hear anything apart from the drumming of my pulse. Or rather, I’m finding it hard to concentrate on what she is saying. It seems more important to look up at the leaves and the rain coming through them.

Mouse! she hisses. You’ve got to pay attention. We can be upset later.

OK, I say, but I don’t mean it.

Keep an eye open, she said. There may be more.