Into the Night

I woke up to hear Clara softly sobbing at my window. Light was filtering in through gaps in the curtains, and I had to rub my eyes a few times before my vision adjusted. She was nodding, holding her phone tight to her ear.

“OK...I’ll be on it. Don’t worry Mum. Yeah, of course. I’ll see you soon. Bye. Love you too.”

“You OK?” I mumbled sleepily, sitting up in the bed and watching her carefully. She slid the phone back into her pocket, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

Instinct took over and I found myself moving from the bed, nothing on except a pair of black boxer shorts. I moved to her and wrapped my arms around her thin shoulders, pulling her to my chest.

“It’ll be OK babe, you’ll see.”

“No, it won’t.” She whispered, burying her head in my chest. “My mum booked plane tickets. I have to go to Australia.”

“Why Australia?” I asked, guiding her over to the bed. She sat down, and within a minute we both had cigarettes dangling from our mouths.

“I have family there.” She mumbled, hanging her head. “And mum thinks it may be safer than anywhere else.”

“So, you’re heading down under then?” I leant back slightly, watching her carefully. She lifted her head and stared at me, bloodshot eyes and dark circles.

“Looks like. I don’t...I don’t want to leave here though. What if something happens? What if I never see you guys again?”

I reached out, squeezing her shoulder gently. “You will. We’ll be fine babe, don’t worry. I got Chuck, remember? If he can’t survive...”

She gave me a weak smile.

“So when’s the plane?”

“This evening. Seven. I’d...I’d better go home. Pack.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “You want me to come with you?”

She shook her head. “No. It might be best if....” She paused, closing her eyes. “Just leave it here, yeah?”

“Alright.” I nodded, watching as she took a deep breath.

“It’s true though,” she continued “we might never see each other again.” I leant forward, kissing her softly on the neck.

“Then stay here for a couple of hours. Let’s make it worth it, yeah?”

“You’ve got work Jake.”

“I’ll phone in.” I mumbled, moving down from her neck. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her smile.

I had to admit, I watched her go with a heavy heart. As I lay back in my bed, smoking (as usual), she gathered up her clothes and got changed, in that precise way I have seen many girls do. Knickers slid on, followed by jeans. Once they are bucked, the bra gets hooked, then a t-shirt is pulled over the head. Socks sometimes follow, then shoes. She sent me one last sad glance before leaving.

I heard the front door shut as I slid further into my bed.

Despite what I’d told her I knew I wouldn’t see her again; hell, I was glad I wouldn’t. I’d only harm her more if she came back. Maybe she’d find some blond, hot Australian to take care of, to protect her and heal her.

It’s what she needed, what she deserved.

The phone rang, and lazily I reached over to grab it. “Hello?”

“You don’t sound that ill.”

Chuck. I smiled to myself.

“Hey dude, how’s work?”

“How come you didn’t come in?”

I sat up in the bed, rubbing my forehead as I did so. “Carla’s flying out to Australia.”

I heard him hiss out of his teeth. “I wondered why she quit so strangely.”

“What do you mean?”

“She phoned in just before shift-start, apparently told Jones she wouldn’t be coming back due to family problems.”

“Her mum booked the tickets. I think she wanted to get her far away from the U.K.”

“Yeah, sounds like that.” Chuck let out a sigh. “I’m going to miss the kid.”

“I just lost a fuck buddy.” I heard him chuckle, knew he had heard the grin in my voice. “How do you think I feel?”

“Shut up dude. So, you had the radio or television on at all?”

“No.”

“God man, switch it on.”

“What’s happened now?” I held the phone between my head and shoulder, cursing my parents for not buying a cordless phone when I moved out. I somehow managed to reach the radio and flick it on.

“Just listen. Talk to you later mate.”

“See you later.”

I put the phone down and once more lay in the bed, eyes half closed as I listened to the radio. A new single was being played, one I’d heard a few times over the last week. For the time being I enjoyed it, until it filtered out and the voice of the DJ took over.

“And now we update you on the situation between Russia and America...”

My mind briefly wondered what I should do today, after all I didn’t want to lie in bed, half-asleep, until late evening, did I?

“...twelve hours until the twenty four hour countdown is over...”

A thought struck me, and with sudden determination I was out of the bed.

“....expert in International Relations, Doctor Martin...”

With a small smile on my face I made my way to the small cabinet across the room.

“Well, it is my belief that Russia may have weapons of a nuclear nature. But not to cause alarm...”

I pulled open the drawer and my smile grew wider at the stash there.

“...not use them. There is always that possibility of course, with the straining relations between Russia and America since the early 2020s...”

Reaching in, I withdrew the see-through bag, showing the mass of green inside. I unwrapped it slowly, enjoying the fragrance as it was released.

“...risk a nuclear war with America? It is highly unlikely.”

It didn’t take long to get into the familiar rhythm of rolling up the joint, and soon I was back, lounging across the duvet, still in my boxers, allowing the smoke to fill the room, carrying the beautiful smell with it.

“There we have it, the thoughts from an expert on these matters. Now back to the normal show...”

After finishing the joint I moved into the kitchen. I raided the cupboards, withdrawing the crisps and chocolate and anything else remotely snack-like and effortless, taking them, and a can of beer, back to my room. I sat on the bed and rolled another joint, tapping my feet against the bed in time with the music playing.

“Tune.” I muttered to myself, before licking the edge of the paper and flicking it over to connect with the other side.

I munched, I smoked, I drank.

Until the next news report came with a jingle.

“Breaking news. Under fears that Russia will release a nuclear bomb, the UK Government have set up bases around the country...”

I froze, eyes drawn involuntarily to the radio.

“Following, are the numbers and the website where you can get all the details...”

I scrambled for the phone, dialling the number as it was announced.

“Again, please check these details out as soon as possible, in order to be ready...”

To be ready? What the fuck?

The line was busy. I grabbed a pen and paper, holding them on my knee as the station re-read the number. Eagerly I scribbled it down before hanging up. I dialled a different number, and almost immediately Chuck answered.

“You at home?” He asked, quickly, breathlessly.

“Yeah, where are you?”

“Leaving work.” I could hear him taking his keys out of his pocket. “Going to get in the car and drive, to wherever the hell I can.”

“Chuck, I don’t understand.” I gasped. “I thought...the expert said there wouldn’t be...”

“Bollocks to the experts.” He replied. “We need to get North.”

“North?” I was shaking now, the result of the weed and the paranoia that came with it, heightened because of my confusion and lack of understanding about what was going on.

“I’ll pick you up; pack what you think you’ll need mate, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

The phone clicked off and I found myself practically throwing the receiver down. Immediately I was up and grabbing as many clothes as I could, stuffing them into the first bag I could find; an old backpack that had seen me through my degree.

I could not die, not like this, not now.

The world could not end, not with me stuck in a dead end job with nothing more than a fuck buddy.

I needed to put my print on the world, god damn it! Couldn’t Russia just wait a few more years?

Not that I had any idea how I would go about doing that, or how long it would take. All I cared about at the moment was the fact that, bloody bugger and shit, I needed to survive.

By the time I heard Chuck’s car drawing up, I was ready. I had the essentials; my stash, my duty free cigarettes (thanks mum and dad!) and my clothes. I was just piling my toiletries into a plastic bag when he knocked on my door. I sprinted to it, threw it open and almost crashed into him.

“Jesus man, slow down.” Chuck raised his hands. “If anything happens, we have a good nine hours before it does.”

I gripped his shirt collar, staring hard at him. “We have to get out of here man!” I cried. “We need to get as far away as possible! What about Australia? Like Clara? There might be seats left! We might be able to get on the plane man...”

“It’s stupidly expensive.” He replied, slowly taking my hands from his shirt. “Listen to yourself Jake, you do not have the money to make it to Australia. Our best chance is by car, and to hope the streets aren’t blocked up with traffic.”

“Blocked up...how many other people are going to be going the same way?” I cried, almost in hysterics now as I gripped my bag.

“Few, I’m hoping.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his cooper coloured hair. “There are bases in South Wales but I bet they’re going to be packed. Hence the going up North thing.”

“But aren’t there people in North Wales who’ll be using the North Wales shelters?” I asked, fully aware, but not caring, that my voice was getting higher and higher with every word I spoke.

“I don’t know. But other than stay here and hope the shelters have enough room later on, we have a plan. Travel, and if they’re full, then keep travelling. We’ll find somewhere and we’ll survive Jake, I promise.”

“Ok, Ok.” I nodded my head, allowing him to grab my arm and drag me towards the car. As soon as we were settled Chuck turned the radio to the same station I’d been listening to in my bedroom.

As he put his foot down, I took out another cigarette. My hands were visibly shaking as I tried to light it, the fag moving back and forth, up and down as I struggled to clench it between my teeth. Finally I succeeded, and let out a soft sigh, along with the smoke from my first drag. I wound the window down, taking in the fresh air as the town blurred past me.

We were soon driving on the outskirts of the city, and I could see a few landmarks – when, if ever, would I see them again? Would this be the last time?

Part of me wished I had a camera.

“Chuck?”

“Yeah?”

“You think we’ll survive?”

He frowned, as he pulled the car away from the city. “I really have no idea mate. I mean, they’re likely to bomb America first but as for us... Who knows, they might decide to hit us too.”

“Then there’s the radiation...”

“We don’t know how strong their bombs are, if they do decide to release them.”

“They will though, won’t they?”

“Yeah. They will. It’s been building up for years.”

I let out another sigh as I flicked the butt out of the window. There was the usual flow of traffic coming out of Cardiff, but nothing that indicated we would be stuck in a jam for a while. I leant against the chair and closed my eyes, allowing myself, within seconds, to slip into sleep.

I woke when Chuck was shaking my shoulders. Blinking a few times, I gazed around to notice we were at a service station.

“Dude, we need food. Come on.”

Obediently I followed him from the car and towards the large white building that loomed before us. First stop was to have a piss. I was surprised at how quiet it was inside; there were a few families, with children stocking up on McDonalds or playing in the arcade. Apart from them, there were a couple of people milling around, a woman drinking coffee and reading a book, a guy standing near the food court, surveying his options.

Usually, when I went to service stations, there were groups of people; groups of Old Age Pensioners, groups of school children, groups of young adults or teenagers, all on their way to – or back from – somewhere different and exciting and new, usually full of mindless, aimless chatter.

Now, the services were eerily quiet. Hardly anyone seemed to be talking.

We were quick in the toilet, for once, it was actually unnerving that the urinals were not full.

Perhaps the scariest part was that I didn’t have to ask why they were so quiet. I locked eyes with a couple of people, and all had the same expression in them. We’re going to die. This could be our last day.

I thought that, like me and Chuck, they were driving somewhere with a better chance of survival.

We grabbed some food and settled into the court to eat. Both of us were silent as we munched on the burgers and chips. There was still a lot of unfinished business we had to leave behind; I wondered if I’d ever see my family again. My mum and dad and brothers and my little sister. Oh god, my little sister. She was eighteen, and up in Leeds University. Would she be alright? I gave a silent prayer to whoever was watching over us that even if I died, then, please, let my sister live.

I knew Chuck had family in Newport, though I got the impression we were far from that town now.

What about Clara? Would she see her mother again?

When we finished eating, Chuck gestured towards the other shops in the area.

“You got cash on you?”

“Yep.”

“Good, grab some drink, bottles of water or coke or whatever. Make sure you do get some water though. And food, stock up on as much as you can take.”

“Like what?”

He rolled his eyes. “Stuff to keep you going. Chocolate, crisps, bread if you can find any.”

I nodded, and the pair of us stood, going in separate directions to get the most out of these shops as we could. When we got back to the car, we threw the bags into the boot, filling it up.

“You really think that would survive a blast?”

He shrugged. “If we do, I don’t see why that wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

We climbed back into the car, and again Chuck put on the radio station. They were halfway through another report.

“...fear is increasing, as the threats from Russia grow more hostile. Again the U.S government have claimed they will not be releasing the prisoners, but pressure is now mounting from European countries to do so, in order to avoid a nuclear strike. We will bring you more as it happens.”

I slipped down in my seat, staring out of the window. “You think they won’t strike if America releases these guys?”

“I have no idea.” Chuck let out a sigh. “I don’t think anyone really knows. This could really be the end mate.”

“I know.”

I put the palms of my hands to my forehead, pushing as hard as I could.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Stop myself thinking.” I mumbled, moving the palms slightly down so they were pressing against my eyes.

“You are an idiot. Do me a favour, rummage around in the glove compartment. Grab a CD.”

I nodded, taking my hands away and doing as he asked. The slight throbbing remained in my head, but I ignored it as I took out a CD with, in Chuck’s scrawled handwriting, the words ‘Old School Mix’ on. I slipped it on, and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’ started to play.

“Blue Oyster Cult, nice.”

“Hey, it does say old school on it.” Chuck shrugged, eyeing the CD player as he did so. “Guess it’s fitting though.”

“Yeah.” I agreed, leaning once more back in the seat and focusing my gaze on the window. I watched the scenery go past as we drove onward, driving past fields of sheep and cows and horses. Along with their parents, there were lambs, calves and foals.

All of this suddenly hit me hard.

“Those poor animals.” I muttered. “They could die without living.”

Chuck glanced sideways at me, still focusing on the road with an eyebrow raised. “Never been one for sentimentality have you Jake.”

“I guess not. But this close to death...”

“You start to appreciate life. I know mate, I know.”

I gazed at him, the first in a long time when I really looked at the man who, for the last two months, had been my best mate. I’d seen it when I first met him, but now, when I actually looked, I could see the faint scar that ran from under his right eye down his neck, disappearing under his collar line. He’d never told me what that scar was from, nor did I ask. His eyes were dark as he drove, and like the scar the sorrow in them was something I’d seen two months ago, but seemed more pronounced now. More relevant maybe.

“We’ll make it Chuck, don’t worry.”

He made a strange sound, half of agreement and half disinterest.

“We’ll keep telling each other that, alright?” Chuck replied, still focusing on the road. “We can’t stop saying it Jake, because if we do, then we lose all hope. Losing hope is not an option now.”

The last bit sounded like a mantra, and I had the impression he’d told himself, and others, that many times.

“Sure thing mate, sure thing.” I tapped my fingers along the dashboard, as Bon Jovi started playing. We both flashed each other a quick grin, and were soon singing, at the top of our voices, along with Livin’ On A Prayer. I started air-drumming, and forgot, for the time being, that the threat of nuclear war was hanging over our heads.