TODAY, OUR TEAM MEMBER, AUTHOR EVA BIELBY, IS SHARING PART 2 OF HER POST APOCALYPTIC SHORT STORY, 'WORLD'S END' #RWRTeamBlog #ReadWriteRepeat

Packhorse Bridge, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk

WORLD’S END – PART TWO

February 2027 – 6 months later

Not only was I growing vegetables in my raised planters, Mrs B had pleaded with me to use her back garden. She was a little frail to manage the garden by herself these days. However, she enjoyed watching my excitement, besides being excited herself, as we awaited the shoots to come through from my autumn planting session. I have to admit, I was most grateful to have the extra growing space. Mrs Bateman was also appreciative for the warmth of my house and three or four decent cooked meals each week. When the nights became much colder, she slept over at my house, preferring to sleep on the sofa instead of my spare bedroom. That way, she got the full benefit from the log-burning stove until the fire died out during the early hours of the morning.

Seeds would be in short supply once everyone caught on to the reality of the situation. ‘We’re going to need to grow our own fruit and vegetables.’ They have eventually come to realise that life has changed dramatically for every one of us.

Fresh milk, butter,eggs and some vegetables were available directly from local farmers. There had always been two or three local farm shops, but plenty more were emerging, a small number were also selling meats, sausages and bacon besides farm-made cheeses and butter from the churners.

Whilst I had gained a lot of valuable gardening knowledge from my father, there are some areas in which my knowledge and expertise are severely lacking. I dug out an old gardening encyclopaedia which I inherited when Dad passed away. Searching the thick book for any planting tips and advice, and the right time of the year to plant which seeds, etc., I came across a fascinating chapter about ‘hydroponics’ which is basically how to make use of the parts of vegetables that would normally be discarded ie. carrot tops, whole potatoes which have started to sprout, lettuce cores/stems and other leafy greens, pineapples, green onions, tomato seeds and herbs such as mint and basil. It was going really well and Mrs B helped me whenever she was able. It was quite a thrill to watch new produce emerge from items which would otherwise have been discarded.

Prior to the EMP, I didn’t know much about Mrs Bateman, other than she was a kind-hearted lady, who frequently took parcels in for me while I was at work teaching. During the long winter nights we spent together in front of the log-burner, she really opened up. I discovered she had a son as well as her daughter. Her son was in fact an orthopaedic doctor at a local hospital nine miles away, the same town where my boyfriend, Sam, lived. I had been worrying about her medication needlessly. Her son had recently managed to secure several month’s supply of her medications. He was also a fitness enthusiast and not having an older working vehicle, he had cycled over to bring the medications three weeks ago. I handed him a letter and asked if he would kindly drop it off at Sam’s house. He assured me that he would be happy to do that. I gave him Sam’s address. Also, he told me he had a spare bike and if Sam wanted to accompany him to visit when he was next coming through, he would be more than welcome to join him. Sam’s reasonably new vehicle I know will have been affected by the EMP. I hoped he was safe, reasonably well fed and managing to keep warm. I looked forward to seeing him at some point in the near future and would appreciate any advice he had to offer about some of my gardening projects.

Things like painkillers, paracetamol, aspirin, and ibuprofen were hard to come by. Trading was the new way of acquiring essentials. People would, for instance, trade a toilet roll or two to obtain some ibuprofen, or some tinned goods for a haircut by a local hairdresser.

Supermarket shelves have been empty for the last five months and some smaller corner shops have been broken into and all their stock stolen. In fact, any businesses which were likely to have useful equipment or supplies have all been robbed and trashed.

Rumours are rife that it could take up to ten years to get the national electricity grid up and running again. Nobody seems to know much about which country had detonated the nuclear bomb into the atmosphere or which countries the EMP was affecting besides the UK, if any. The only communication which exists is via CB radio enthusiasts and satellite phones. Nobody knows exactly how reliable the news is that comes back through numerous sources before it reaches us. Mike Gardner, our local CB man was quick to get any up-to-date information to us via a local pub landlord who runs the Cross Keys. Most of the town’s pubs were still opening for a few hours each day. On the day of the EMP or soon after, the landlords had hit the supermarkets and small shops to secure all the bottles of spirits and canned beers and lagers. Deliveries from the breweries had dried up two days after the EMP, once the fuel in the lorries was all used. For those with no heating, the pubs with coal fires were a blessing. The pubs were where the town’s residents could socialise and keep warm for a few hours. Yet they had to turn out into the cold later in the day when leaving to go home.

Apparently, on the day of the EMP, a private light aircraft heading for Bagley airfield had fallen from the sky near the village of Doulton. Both the pilot and his passenger were killed. More horror stories like this had been relayed via Mike Gardner’s CB radio. Several passenger airlines had just fallen out of the sky on EMP day, one of them landing on top of a school near Gatwick airport, passengers, children and teachers alike had been killed.

More recent issues brought to our attention were the gangs forming in large cities carrying out looting of any food that remained in supermarkets and stores around the country. The problem didn’t stop with the supermarkets. Once food stocks depleted in the supermarkets, the gangs had taken to breaking into people’s empty homes to rob what they could. I tried not to let this worry me. After all, it was in the big cities, right? At this stage my major concern was for my boyfriend’s safety.

Five days after hearing about the looting gangs, Mrs B and I had not long been settled down to play Pontoon in the candlelight when we heard the sound of breaking glass. I shot out of my chair and donned a warm coat, grabbed my hockey stick and a torch. (I’d played in the local ladies hockey team for the last ten years.) Leaving through the back door, I first shone the torch at Mrs B’s kitchen window to the right hand side of the fence. It was intact, thank goodness. I turned to my left and in the beam of the torch, I saw the smashed kitchen window of my neighbour on the left hand side. Those particular neighbours, Mr and Mrs Parsons, had fled to their son’s home in York just a week or two after the EMP day. Luckily for them, their old Volvo had not been affected by the EMP. I could hear voices coming from inside the property. Someone was attempting to rob whatever supplies were left in the kitchen.

“There’s fuck all worth having in this one, Ken.”

“I can see that, Joe. Looks like they’ve fucked off and taken all the fucking food with them. Selfish bastards.”

“Not to worry. Let’s call it a night, Ken. We’ve already acquired a decent haul for the night.

I was seething. So this is what it’s come to. People reduced to robbing others of food just to survive. I wish Sam was here with me. I may be armed with a hockey stick, but I don’t believe I would ever dare to use it on another human being. There was nothing to be done about it though. Law and order doesn’t exist anymore. There’s still police around but without any transport they have been reduced to being ‘bobbies on the beat’ – walking the streets in twos and threes. Knowing this, the small-time crooks and robbers have become emboldened.

Returning to our card game, Mrs B looked a little anxious.

“The broken window isn’t at my house, is it, Kate?”

“No, Mrs B, it isn’t your house, thank Heaven. But whoever they are, they’re in the kitchen next door, the Parson’s home. I overhead a conversation. There is no food left in the kitchen cupboards. Mr and Mrs Parsons have obviously taken any food with them, emptying the kitchen the day they went to stay with their son.”

“That is scary, Kate. I don’t want to be in my own home anymore. An old lady like me, they would likely cave my head in to get what they want.”

“You don’t have to stay there alone, Mrs B. You can stay with me for however long it takes to get this country back on its feet. Either that, or maybe you could stay with your son? But if you want to stay with your son, I’m not sure how we’d get you there.”

“Thank you so much for your kind offer, Kate. I am already in your debt for your kind gestures. And you don’t need to call me, Mrs B, Kate. Please call me Edie. It’s Edith really, but I prefer Edie.”

“I’ve got a meeting at the high school tomorrow with all the local teachers who don’t need transport to get to the school. We’re going to try get some lessons organised between us so the kids aren’t missing out on their education. I’m not sure how viable it will be without any technology, but we must do what we can. No doubt it will be unpaid work. We will teach survival skills instead of the normal maths, history and sciences. I’ll be gone for an hour or so. Will you be okay while I’m gone?"

“I’ll be fine, Kate. After all it will be daylight hours. I’ll busy myself preparing some food for the evening. How about some leek and potato soup for a change. I do miss having bread with my soups. Wish we had a working oven. I would bake some bread and some fresh cream to put in it.

“But Mrs B, we can try to bake some bread. I have some sort of contraption in my shed which will sit in the wood burner. As long as it’s red hot embers and not flames, it should be okay. Shall we give it a try at the weekend? Some fresh bread and jam or honey would be nice as well, if we don’t have any soup to eat the bread with.”

“Ooh! That is an excellent idea, Kate. I’ll look forward to that!

Saturday morning came around and Mrs B was in her element. She stood in my kitchen kneading the dough before letting it prove for a couple of hours. The logs in the burner were glowing red. The flames had died, so it was time to try out the rack which Sam had made for me when I purchased the log burner and had it installed. Mrs B had made enough dough for two loaves of bread and half a dozen baps. We placed them on the rack and sat in the lounge watching them for forty minutes or so. The baps were ready first and the loaves fifteen minutes later. We had bread and butter with strawberry jam with a cup of tea. Mrs B was thrilled and looking forward to making another batch at some point soon. The bread wasn’t perfect, but it was acceptable and tasted heavenly after doing without for roughly six months.

The meeting at the school went well. We created some posters to put up around the town asking for any old window frames or similar so that we could assemble some greenhouses. This would have two benefits – teaching the kids about gardening (mainly vegetables) and whatever vegetables are successfully grown could be shared out between the pupils, which would help towards feeding their families. One of the teachers, Mrs Oakley, has extensive knowledge on making soaps, candles and various cleansing products like shampoos and conditioners using natural products. This knowledge will be passed on to the pupils. English and Maths lessons will continue as normal, but the sciences, geography and history will be dropped from the curriculum. Word had got around that the teenagers are getting bored without schooling, so we hoped these measures will give them something to focus on. Sports activities will carry on as normal. We thought it essential that the teenagers have some form of daily exercise. It is nice to feel that something positive is happening.

Following on from a successful meeting, I was beyond thrilled to find Sam at my house when I arrived home. Mrs B’s doctor son, Richard, was also there. They had cycled the nine miles from the next town. I knocked up a vegetable biryani on the camping stove and they both stayed to eat with Edie and I. Edie had already told them about the neighbour’s house being broken into the previous evening.

Sam had excellent news for us.

“I understand Mrs B has been staying with you, sweetheart? Now that thieves are targeting homes to steal food, it is not safe for two ladies to be without a man in the house. As I can’t work without my van, I am planning to stay here for the forseeable future to make sure you two lovely ladies stay safe. Is that alright with you, Kate? I wouldn’t want to push in uninvited .at all."

I hurried round the table to throw my arms around him.

“Oh, Sam. That is wonderful news. I’ve missed you. Have you brought fresh clothes to change into? Mrs B sleeps on the sofa, so I’ll warn you – no parading around the house in your boxers, please.”

“I’ve missed you too darling. I‘ve been worried sick about you.”

Thanks to their generosity, some residents with solar power organised rotas for struggling residents to wash their clothes. Another great issue was water itself. Wells were few and far between. River water needs to be sterilised and besides sterilising tablets, the same could be achieved by putting five to ten drops of domestic chlorine bleach to 20 litres of water.

It was lovely to feel Sam’s arms around me in bed each night after all the worrying I’d done for over six months since the EMP. He didn’t like the fact that Mrs B was sleeping downstairs and therefore was the first person who any burglars would come across. He feared for her safety, but she was adamant about not using the guest bedroom.

“You and Sam need some privacy, Kate. I already feel like I’m intruding on your private conversations.”

“Mrs B, please don’t feel that way. You are no trouble at all and you’re like a mother figure to me and we wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re welcome here as long as you want.” I told her time and again.

However, two weeks later, news came to us that there had been a murder in our little town. Some thugs from York travelled over to our town looking for empty homes where they could hopefully find some food to steal. They broke into a house about half a mile from us and encountered a lady in her eighties. Apparently, as there was no light showing in the property, they had thought it to be unoccupied. They had beaten the poor lady to death with a cricket bat when she’d objected to them being in her kitchen.  A man who lived next door to her had heard the screams, and together with another neighbour, they tackled the thugs and tied them up with zip ties until somebody could get hold of the police. The police arrived on foot but one of the two men had an old Land Rover which he used to transport the two policemen and the thugs to our local police station where they would be held in a cell until such time as alternative accommodation could be found for the murderous scumbags.

Following this tragic event, Mrs B finally moved into the guest bedroom.  She had been saddened and horrified to learn about the callous beating and subsequent death of Mrs Simpson, a lady she had known for many years.  

Nearly seven months post EMP and lives are been taken for the sake of a few canned goods. What has this world come to? How many of us will survive? It remains to be seen… My words to Mr James had been correct…this was only the beginning…

Three weeks later the government had issued s party political broadcast over the radio stating that they were hoping the power grid would be operational by 2031, five years away, Also, they were hoping to secure deals for large fuel deliveries from abroad.

At least with fuel (if they could pull off the promised deals) it would hopefully get the supply chains back up and running, which is vital to help prevent the large number of lootings and murders which are happening all too frequently in recent times

©Eva Bielby July 2026

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COMING SOON: On Wednesday, 30th September, we are thrilled to welcome guest author, Annie Cook, who is sharing an excerpt from her novel, 'No Small Change'.