47

"So your grandparents… Irish… were not expecting either the Zs or Stan" Ianto said, amused now as his own grandmother's Scottish anger would have been prevalent in the middle of such chaos.

"Oh but they WERE my grandparents" she laughed softly, this part of the story one she had told many times and still laughed.

.

.

"Feck this!"

Seamus muttered as he pulled at the braces on his pants, rising from the toilet to reach for his walking stick as his wife bellowed for him again.

"MUSSY!"

"Feck it all to the heavens, stop acting the maggot" he muttered, pushing the door open and staggering out "For Fecksake Heather Belle, stop with the…. What the feck is that shit?"

The huge TV filled the wall, great for his diminished eyesight and he stood in the doorway gaping as a Z wantonly attacked the reporter trying to warn people to stay away from Cardiff.

"It's happening all over" she turned to face him, her stout and sold body moving like it was on casters. He loved that, the way her entire body would turn to face him, his own stick figure self not unlike a holocaust survivor. Together they looked so silly.

"Right" he muttered, turning to hobble to the closet in the hallway, pushing aside the coats to reach for the cupboard behind them. No push carpet brush thing in here… oh no… the pump action shotgun was waiting for its master, faithfully loaded and ready to go.

"Feck me, Mussy. We don't need that do we?" came Heather's shaky voice from behind and as he turned to say something Shamus saw movement behind her and raised the muzzle, firing from the hip as one of their neighbors attempted to enter the open sliding door, the man now flying back.

"MARY MOTEHR OF JESUS!" she screamed, running towards him then slowing as a bloody hand slapped against the doorframe and the man slowly got to his feet, his mouth moving weirdly like… back and forth not up and down … like…

BOOOOOM

She turned to look at her husband, the shotgun's double barrels smoking as he took a deep breath and reached for the box of shells "Get away from him sweetheart. I think the gobshite's getting up again."

She turned back with her mouth open and as her husband calmly reloaded, the sudden thunk of a broom handle entering the neighbor's skull made them both jump.

Stan came around the doorframe "Hi. I'm Stan, Jessica's fella. She wanted me to get you, she's freaked out and we think it's best to retreat to the homestead now Sir."

"Ya don't have to tell me twice laddie" came the reply as the shotgun pumped. "Gotta go for the head eh?"

"Yes sir, I find that works" Stan said as he placed his boot against the head and yanked back the broomstick handle.

"Let's boogie."

.

.

The rickety truck that wobbled into the yard did not bring comfort as Jessica's father got out and turned to yell at his wife that he was sick to death of the bloody tourists in…

"What."

"Did you not listen to me at all?" she asked with open anger "I told you, Doomsday is here."

"Christ woman, the dramatics. I swear, living with you two women … I think it's mass hysteria evne if it's only the two…of… fuck me." He stood watching the TV screen.

His daughter brushed past and as the old grandfather sat heavily next to his son, Jessica could finally see the vehicle she wanted to. The Jeep that screamed into the yard had not only her beloved in it, but her grandparents. Good boy had done as he was told.

They closed the gates and watched the madness until the TV screen went blank, power died and the modern world finally started to die.

The End was Here.

.

.

"But it wasn't the end" Ianto said softly, reaching out to take Jessica's hand and squeeze gently "It was the beginning."

"Yeah" she replied with a sad smile "Mamma then started to get sick, we thought it was the stress of everything. I mean, six months in and we were doing OK. We were of the grid, away from the main road and we kept small, quiet and mostly in the bunker under the house that had been like a storm cellar once. Being preppers, we knew how to sort things into a routine but we really thought it would be a year… two at most before the human race would sort it out. But we all know that was just wishful thinking."

"So. Pricilla? Your sister? She calls you Ma?"

"Well, she was born about seven months after the Zs came, a surprise for all of us as my mother had really thought me her only child. She was tired all the time and I now know what Baby Blues are but then, all I knew was that the baby seemed too much for her. Stan and I had her all the time while Dad and she argued about everything. It was like she just could not get happy" Jessica sighed.

"It was hard though, even if she had been raised to be hard by her parents, it must have been hard for her. At least her parents were there" Ianto reasoned.

"Well, I lost my grandfathers not long after Patty was born." She sighed, settling back to explain this part she did NOT want to recount.

The first deaths were hard.

So hard.