Amber Glass

  1977

  

  A shriek. Someone swore.

  “That’s just vile,” muttered a female voice, and two people appeared from behind trees.

  “Arnaud, you don’t have to gut the guy out,” said Jack Swinton, sidling out from behind his tree. “You’re making Ruth sick.”

  “Need to make sure he’s dead,” Arnaud mumbled back, concentrating on churning his knife into the undead’s chest. “Right, that should do it.”

  “I’m going to hurl,” said Ruth weakly, throwing her arms around Edward Adams. Jack wiggled his eyebrows at Edward, who rolled his eyes. 

  “He’s the last one, right?” asked Alicia, eyes narrowed out at the forest.

  “As far as we know,” said Arnaud, jiggling his knife until it gave way. “We’d better go home anyway. Jack, haven’t you got a college paper due tomorrow?”

  “I handed it in a week ago,” said Jack, with a shrug. His blonde hair was short and swept back, and his skin was peach-pale.

  “Arnaud!” came a wail from the forest.

  The team rallied at once - then the source of the noise appeared. 

  “Julien!” growled Arnaud, as his fifteen year old brother hurled himself at him.

  “Why are you doing it AGAIN?” he bellowed through pummels, which Arnaud was just holding off. “Killing undead! You’ll get yourself killed!”

  “Julien,” hissed Arnaud, looking embarrassed. “How did you even know we were here?”

  “Mom and I came to drop off your laundry - you weren’t there so I said I’d look for you, and some guys at your college said you’d come out here!” Julien was crying.

  He stopped hitting Arnaud, and his eyes fell on the gutted out undead.

  “A - A - ”

  “Julien, get the f**k out of here,” Arnaud said, in such a serene manner that it disturbed Jack. “This has got nothing to do with you, as usual. You’re lucky you even got to know about our secret. Go on - ” He held Julien off, lightly shoving him. “Go.”

  Julien looked wildly round at the others, who gave him varying looks of sternness and pity. 

  Eyes settling in understanding, he threw a last look at Arnaud before disappearing back into the gloom.

  

  1984

  

  Banging upstairs.

  “GwenGwennyGwenGwen!” Bounding downstairs, Jack leapt over the rail and careered into Gwennyth Swinton, arriving home from work. “I got the job!”

  “You did?” gasped Gwen, taking the paper Jack was waving. “Oh wow, Jack! Hey, the salary’s pretty good actually.”

  “I honestly didn’t think I’d get it - I didn’t have as much teaching experience as some of the other candidates, I mean, they even said that, but it was my way of thinking that won them over!” Jack embraced his wife tightly. 

  “God, I’ve not seen you like this in years,” said Gwen, laughing brightly. 

  Releasing Gwen, Jack exhaled loudly. 

  “It’s going to be a bunch of stress dealing with high school kids, but I think it will be a lot of fun too. I haven’t the slightest clue in how to get them interested in Psychology, though.”

  “What do you mean? It’s a very interesting topic, showing how the brain reacts to situations and deals with emotions.” Gwen moved to the kitchen, pecking Jack before she left.

  Jack followed her through.

  “Yeah, I find it interesting because I did a degree in it. I suppose…I guess I can try to inspire them the same way I was inspired.”

  “Jack,” Gwen said, laughing sheepishly as she took an onion from the fridge, “You can’t tell them that story, for God’s sake. I don’t think Arnaud would be very happy about it.”

  “Or Julien,” said Jack, yawning. “Yeah but I don’t have to name any names. All I have to say is that someone I knew had a mental breakdown when he was fourteen, and the behaviours he exhibited inspired me to do Psychology.”

  “Mm, I guess,” said Gwen, chopping.

  Swiftly stepping in, Jack’s arms laced around her stomach.

  “Okay, different topic for now, and since I’m in such a good mood - ”

  “Jack,” Gwen warned, a smile playing. “We’ve only been married two months.”

  “What’s that got to do with it?” Jack grinned, wheedling Gwen round so she was pressed to the sink. The knife had dropped to the chopping board.

  “Ooh,” she said, grinning back. Arms coiling round his neck, she nuzzled her nose into his. “I mean it’s not like I don’t want one, but we need to settle into being married first, right?”

  “Yeah yeah, I know. I can’t help it though - I want a baby with you.” Jack’s smile drew up on one side, and his hand cupped Gwen’s face. Then it dropped to her stomach, where his palm pressed. “Seeing you swell here and knowing that’s a product of you and me inside you…”

  “Stop, Jack…” said Gwen, smile faltering, eyes hard. “You’re making me really want to, and it’s not right for just now.”

  “I know, I know,” he replied, “Of course…I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

  “Well, try, for now,” she responded, putting hard lips, gently, to his. “Just enjoy us being a couple and starting a life. We need to be ready for a kid.”

  “Gwen, I know,” said Jack, firmly. “I’ll drop it.”

  “Right,” Gwen said, nodding. “Would you mind giving the house a quick vacuum before dinner? I didn’t have time to do it this morning.”

  “Er, yep, no problem,” said Jack, and he kissed his wife on the lips before going off in search of the vacuum. 

2012

  Roughly shutting the curtains, Kate returned to her seat beside Varjak.

  “Er,” she began, with caution. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but how long before rigor mortis kicks in?”

  “Kate!” Varjak exclaimed. “Jeez, those were alive people about an hour ago.”

  “I know, sorry.” Kate shook her head, surprised at herself. “So, about an hour before we’re in France?”

  The curtains were opened again - Tristan and Nimue stood in the gap.

  “Camille said to tell you not to close the curtains, because then she can’t see Varjak misbehaving.”

  “I think Camille darling sweetest should have more pressing things on her mind,” Varjak muttered, glowering at the cockpit.

  “Any food on this thing, ya think?” said Luke, stretching. “I’m going to go find out.”

  “Bring me back something!” Nimue called, ducking under Tristan’s arm and rolling out on seats to the left of Kate. 

  “S**t, s**t s**t, S**T,” erupted Camille, far in front.

  Standing to attention, everyone made for the cockpit.

  “What is it?” breathed Varjak, first in and draped over Camille’s seat.

  “Take a look, Jesus motherfucking God,” Camille added under her breath.

  Beyond the nose of the plane, another could be seen. 

  “A fighter craft?” Kate gulped. 

  “F*****g R.A.F. b******s,” hissed Camille. “We’re a commercial flight in the air when all the airports in the world are probably shut down - they’re going to think we’re bad undead!”

  “What, they don’t even give us a chance to see if we’re surviving humans?” Nimue squawked.

  “The military honestly won’t give a s**t in this sort of situation - they have no way of checking without risking their lives.” Camille was breathing heavily. “I’m going to have to try some seriously dangerous manouvres here - God, I don’t think this thing is designed to do that s**t…”

  “Right, well, go, we’ll brace ourselves.” Varjak shooed them all out of the cockpit, jogging back down to economy.

   Kate’s legs were snapped in half - her torso made impact with the floor, and she leaned against it like a bent wall.

  Then her body fell prey to gravity, and she plunged down the plane.

  “Ballsack!” She heard Varjak cry, and something nearly tore her arm from it’s socket.

  Looking up, she saw Varjak squashed into a row of seats, her weight pulling him down.

  “Quick, swing yourself onto the row of seats beneath me!” called Varjak, urgently indicating with his head.

  Kate glanced at the seats - this was going to be painful. 

  “Is she f*****g taking us into SPACE?” Kate growled, throwing herself onto the seats below. The momentum almost threw her off. 

  Despite the situation, Kate could hear laughing in various locations around her. Most obviously, Varjak was in tears.

  “That - aha - oh my - aha - wow - ” He wiped at his face. Kate glanced over at Tristan and Nimue, who were seated upright and clinging to each other, and they too were in hysterics.

  “Aw man, I needed that,” Nimue spluttered, face red.

  “Now hang on just one cotton picking minute,” said Varjak, and suddenly he jumped up from his seat, legs stretched between Kate’s seats and his own row. “I can defy gravity!”

  The laughter promptly disappeared.

  “Sit down, you idiot,” groaned Kate, smiling. “Not the best time to show off, is it?”

  “It’s always a perfectly good time to show off,” Varjak rebutted, and chose to fly over them instead. 

  The floor caught Kate as the plane flattened again.

  “Woman’s been watching too much Mission Impossible!” Varjak tutted.

  “F**k, that hurt!” cried Nimue, holding her face. “Seriously, the sooner we get to France - ”

  Red and smoke - fire? Light, that was for sure, through the haze. Blue - or black, was that glistening black through that red? Oh and yellow, too much heat, like a rollercoaster, whistling air - now green, brown lines - a country?

  When would this end? What was this? Did the plane - was that an explosion? Terrorism - no, R.A.F….Blown up, they’d been blown up.

  Black.