The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF - Mike Ashley [63]
"The Final Trump," said Dad, wearing that self-satisfied face he always used to pull when something was going against him. Only happy when it rains, my Dad. "And me not even baptized."
Mum was rubbing the flaking green paintwork on the windowsill. "The last thing you promised me was that you were going to do these windows," she said.
At the top of the street I could make out the corpse of Roy the bachelor twitching and kicking at the end of his rope. "I didn't do it!" he managed in a choked voice before the noose cut off his air supply and he died again. Within seconds he was dancing about again and shouting. I hoped someone would cut him down soon.
Dad pushed past me. "You going to leave us standing on the doorstep to our own house?" he said. "What have you got to eat?"
"A couple of microwave Chinese meals," I said. "There's been a bit of a problem with food the last few days."
Dad sat down in the armchair while mum started picking up the dirty dishes and tutting at the layer of dust on the coffee table.
"I can see we're going to have to take charge around here," said dad.
There was a hammering at the door.
"That'll be your grandad," said mum.
Dad had died of a heart attack two years ago and mum had gone quietly nine months later. I suppose they were lucky; Old Mrs Potter had been hit by a bus last Christmas and she'd turned up at home in a right mess. It was a bit of a shock for her husband.
The return of the dead raised all kinds of questions in people's minds. Presumably this was Judgment Day, then. The Civil Defence Group set up a big prayer session in the street. It was quite eerie, watching the living and the dead come together and stand there in silence while Mr Ogden, who was a lay preacher, read from the Bible. At the point where he asked that we all be forgiven for our sins, Roy the bachelor coughed loudly but no one could meet his eye. They made Mrs Potter stand at the back because she was a bit upsetting for the kiddies.
Come sunset there was great excitement; the asteroid was finally visible to the naked eye. It looked like a very slow-moving comet high in the night sky. I supposed the Russians hadn't been able to blow it up then, and that expert on the TV who had said it would burn up in the atmosphere had been wrong. I wondered what they were doing in Australia right now.
On the last day before the end, Katy came home. "I knew you'd still be here," she said, collapsing into my arms and sobbing. It was just like a film.
She was filthy and her blouse was all torn. She'd walked it all the way from her house. It had taken all yesterday, all night and most of the morning. It had been slow going because of all the gangs - they were on the lookout for anyone with food or weapons. Women were especially in danger. Worst of all were the gangs of the undead, the ones who hadn't eaten or had a woman for many long, cold years. She'd come crosscountry, hiding in ditches and crawling on her belly past campfires which rang with laughter and screams.
"Where's Steve?" I said when she'd calmed down a bit.
"Gone," she said. "Three days ago. You know his parents were part of that weird Christian sect? Steve had never been bothered with it, but when they decided to lock themselves in their church and his mum and dad told him that they'd built a huge bunker underground and filled it with food and water, he suddenly found his faith again."
"Didn't you fancy it?"
Katy dissolved into tears again, burying her head in my shoulder. "I begged him to take me," she sobbed. "They refused. Just left me in the house with no food, nothing to defend myself with. Oh, God. What's going to happen to us?"
Mum shuffled out of the kitchen. She looked at us and frowned. She'd never liked Katy much. "Oh," she said. "One more for tea, is it?"
Mum had made a pie. From what, God only knows. At the mention of food, the others came out of the sitting room. Dad was followed by grandad and grandma, uncle George, aunty Linda, cousin Alfie, and then a raft of stern-looking people in stiff Edwardian