Surviving the Fall: How England Died by Stephen Cross Read Free Book Online Page A

of course.” Both Gaz and Johnny lived alone.
    “Cheers Mac,” said Gaz. “I only live round the corner though. I’ll just finish my pint and I’ll be on my way, I don’t want to be any trouble.”
    Mac walked to the front door and turned the deadlock, then bolted it. He tested it with a rough shake. “Don’t be daft lad. Get your head down in one of the rooms upstairs.”
    Gaz started to protest again, but Johnny interrupted. “Listen to what he says Gaz. Mac knows his business. Don’t you Mac?”
    Mac was testing all the windows were locked, and only glanced at Johnny.
    “Mac thinks something funny is going to happen tonight, that’s right, ain’t it?” He lit another skinny cigarette. “Reckons we might be best not walking the streets.”
    Gaz sat down and finished his pint, a confused look on his face. “What you mean?”
    “The virus,” said Mac.
    “Oh.”
    “Here lad, have another drink. On the house.” Mac pulled Gaz another pint of lager, and they sat in silence for a while, only the sound of the fire crackling softly. Mac thought how peaceful it all was, without the TV. It reminded him of back in the seventies when he first opened the pub, just a young lad, with Angie his beautiful young bride. No TV back then, no fruit machines. Just the noise of conversation, of laughter, of life.
    Gaz broke the silence, “So you think the TV going off is to do with the virus?”
    Johnny answered, “I think that when there’s riots, and when the police and army are shutting down whole cities, and when there’s a virus infecting all from America to China, that maybe it’s just best to stay put. Amongst friends like.”
    “Ok,” said Gaz, his face suddenly pale. Gaz lifted his pint, a slight shake in his hand, and took several large gulps a little too quickly. “Since it’s on the house then, best make use of it…” He gave a weak smile.
    “Careful son,” said Mac, “you don’t want to be passed out anytime. Anyway, you two, I’m going to go up and see to the missus,” said Mac. “She ain’t sleeping well. As I said, you fellas can help yourselves to the booze, but don’t go daft. No-one’s staying in any of the rooms upstairs, so take your pick.”
    “Cheers Mac, I’ll see to it that we get sorted,” said Johnny, his voice croaking as the late night and cigarettes began to take their toll.
    “Night Mac, and thanks,” said Gaz. “Reckon they’ll have the TV fixed tomorrow.”
    “Reckon they will,” said Mac. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, “Oh, and don’t let anyone in.”

Chapter 2
     
    “Ok Angie, that’s them two sorted. Are you right? Do you need help with your night business?”
    Angie shook her head. “I’m fine love, my leg isn’t too bad tonight. Managed to get to the bathroom and stand for a good few minutes.”
    Mac changed into his pyjamas, “Well that’s good to hear, life in you yet!”
    Angie laughed and threw a pillow at him, “Enough life in me to give you trouble, Bill MacIntyre!”
    Mac caught the pillow and threw it back beside her, smiling as he did so. “I don’t doubt there is my dear.”
    He quickly went to the toilet and cleaned his teeth, then climbed into bed. He pulled his wife close to him, getting comfortable. Then he frowned. “Dammit. I forgot something.”
    “What is it?”
    “Never mind, I’ll just be a minute.”
    Mac made his way downstairs again, turning sharp right at the bottom of the stairs to the cellar door. He opened it and descended the stairs, turned on the dim light and fought his way past beer kegs and pipes to find what he was looking for. Tucked away in the corner of the room was an old crowbar.
    He gripped it tightly with two hands and felt the weight before making a practise swing. It felt stiff and heavy in his arms. He swung it a few more times until used to the action.
    Mac took the crowbar with him back upstairs, the mumbled conversation of the two drunks at the bar drifting up behind him.
    “What do you