Mark of the Beast by Stephen Simpson

Christmas had come and gone. It was not as nice as it had been previous years because a cloud of doom hung over the Murphy household. It was large and suffocating.

They opened their presents but there was no joy in receiving whilst so many were dead.

They ate their Christmas lunch but could not help thinking about all those who were suffering.

Cynthia pretended that everything was okay because she tried not to stress too much. Stress gave her a belly ache, and she believed her diabetes was stress induced.

Bill never turned off the television and told them in detail what the latest updates were, even though Cynthia tried her hardest to talk over him, he would not relent.

He could not carry the burden of knowing all by himself.

Lydia could not sleep at night.

She was scared.

She had a premonition that this was only the beginning. She had a constant, horrible feeling that things were going to get a lot worse from here on out.

She was glad that she still had her mum and her dad. They made her feel safe in a world that had descended into chaos.

This morning, Cynthia convinced Lydia to go with her to the shops to stock up on some essentials. They did not live in the city, so they were not in any danger of getting caught up in the riots and looting that was still happening in the bigger cities. To make sure everything was still safe enough, Cynthia had phoned her friend, Ruby, who was a cashier at Food4You and got the confirmation that although the shop was busy, it was no busier than usual for the week between Christmas and New Year.

Before they left the house, Cynthia made a lengthy list of stuff they would need if it was indeed the end of the world. Candles. Toilet paper. Canned Foods. Rice. Flour. Matches.

It was a bright day for December, and everywhere Christmas lights were still shining brightly. It was hard to think it was supposed to be a time of peace when six crazy people who listened to an audio book that they had downloaded from the internet blew up half the world.

At the shops, Cynthia drove around the parking area three times before she spotted an empty space and quickly took it just before a man in a green Mercedes could steal it from her.

The man gave her an angry glare through his windshield and then gave her the finger. Lydia read his lips and the words he was yelling were foul.

Cynthia muttered. “So stressful.” She leaned over and put her hand on Lydia’s thigh. “Don’t worry, Lydia. All of this will blow over soon, you’ll see. People are just panicking and scared.”

Lydia looked at her mum with a sideways glance and tried to smile. “Let’s just do this so we can get back home again.” All Lydia wanted to do was stay at home. Forever. She did not want to be with other people. She did not want to go shopping. All she wanted was to be safely behind the front door of their three-bedroom house.

Cynthia sighed a long sound, as if she was psyching herself up to do it. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They opened their doors at the same time and got out. The doors closed with a thump at the same time as a woman two rows of cars down rammed an empty trolley into the backside of a small Kia. The woman had crazy hair and was still dressed in her winter pyjamas with matching fur slipper boots. She was screaming at the top of her voice at the woman in the Kia.

Lydia quickly moved closer to her mum and pushed her arm through the crook of her mother’s arm. She held on for dear life.

Cynthia tsked. “Probably suffering from a hangover, that woman. At this time of year, a lot of people do a lot of irresponsible drinking, looking for trouble in all the wrong places. That woman in the Kia is probably already on the phone to the police.”

They took the long way around to the doors of the supermarket, avoiding getting tangled up in the heated argument between the woman in her pyjamas and the driver of the Kia.

As the automated doors opened, and they were blasted with warm air from inside the shop, Lydia glanced back and saw both women wrestling on the ground. She gaped, and turned back to tell Cynthia, when her mouth fell open even wider.

There were people everywhere.

The queues waiting at checkout were long, and even from the doors, Lydia could see the shelves were almost bare.

They should have come sooner. They waited too long.

“Come,” Cynthia said. “We’ll see what’s left. It’s no use panicking. We bought a lot of food before Christmas, and we still have a lot of leftovers from Christmas lunch. We’ll be okay. Let’s see if we can get some matches and candles, at least.” Her eyes searched the checkout booths. “I hope Ruby had the early shift today. Would hate to have to work on a day like today.”

Lydia said, “At least no-one here decided that it would be better to start looting.”

Cynthia whispered, “Don’t put ideas in their heads.”

There were no candles, or toilet paper, or rice, or flour, or matches. There were a couple of cans of chopped tomatoes. Cynthia said, “I don’t want to stand in that long queue just for a couple of cans. What would we do with it anyway? I think we should rather go.”

Lydia felt as if she was on the precipice of a panic attack. She could only nod. She did not want anything to do with any of this. She just wanted to be at home.

When they got back home, Bill called from the lounge, “Come look. Quick.”

Cynthia said loudly, while she struggled to lock the front door as quickly as possible to keep the madness at bay, “Not now, Bill. It’s crazy out there. You’ll never believe…”

Bill stepped into her line of vision while still standing in the lounge. There was a straight view from the front door through the side of the lounge, out to the back garden. “No. Cynthia. Come look first. You can tell me what happened afterwards.”

Lydia followed Cynthia into the lounge and remained standing next to her dad, while Cynthia sat down.