gravestone. It was a crude stone section that we had set up with cracked tarmac from the road, the words etched into it with hours upon hours of painstaking work;
Jack Hadley
1987 – 2027
A Loving Father and Husband, and the Founder of Bastion.
The last part wasn’t technically true, but his bravery had kept us going in the early days, when we didn’t know whether or not we would survive the first few weeks, or months… If it hadn’t been for him, I doubted that Bastion would have been founded at all.
Before the grave, sat a little way before it, was my mother.
These days we took whatever clothes we could find, and when it came to domestication and cleanliness… Well, that was an improvised act altogether, but we did pretty well. These days Henrietta spent most of her time with her hair tied up in a sharp ponytail when it wasn’t short, something that had become a necessity. She was wrapped up in shawls and gowns, her calm face staring down serenely at the stone.
In the old world she had been a hairdresser, and my father a waste disposal manager who had a decade of experience hauling trash before having worked his way up through the organisation. They used to joke that there were jobs that would always be needed, even in times of economic collapse – people always needed their hair cutting, and they definitely always needed their trash taking away. Those were two of the last things people would give up.
I knew she had heard come through the fence, she just didn’t turn around.
‘You haven’t been here in a while,’ I said, walking slowly to sit down by her side. I took a long look at the grave before glancing over at her quiet face as the hint of a smile rose to her lips.
‘Mmm…’ She started absently, peacefully. ‘He was never really one for shoving his pride aside, your father. Even in death. After it happened I worried for so many nights that you and Robbie would… Would get sick too. I still worry about it sometimes.’
‘We’ll be all right,’ I said, ‘we’re fine here. We’ve built something good, and we’ll keep building and looking after our own.’
‘I know, Tommy… Your brother looks up to you a lot, you know?’
‘What? No, he doesn’t.’
‘I’m your mother, trust me. He does. He always has. You were always around to look after him and keep him in line. You’ve been the man of the house ever since we returned to the surface, and now that you lead a place like this… Why wouldn’t he look up to you?’
‘He’s a good kid. I just hope he doesn’t let this world get the better of him.’
‘That’ll never happen in a million years,’ she laughed, ‘He’s you, just a few years younger. Did you ever let this place get the better of you? No. So he won’t either.’
A pause.
‘Are you okay, mom?’
‘Me? I’m fine… As fine as I’ve ever been.’
‘Okay.’
We sat in silence for some time, in the quiet, watching presence of the memory of my father.
‘Right,’ Henrietta finally said, pushing herself up to her feet. ‘Can’t mourn all the livelong day. Couple of people need their hair cutting, they’re starting to look like damn savages.’
‘Right,’ I smiled.
‘You could do with having that beard trimmed, mister,’ she said. ‘Back in the day the guys your age were running around with these unkempt things, looking like you are now. That was the style back then, you see.’
‘It’s