Skin Read online

  IT WASN’T UNTIL the next afternoon that I had a chance to talk to him. I was out in the allotment again when a long shadow fell over me.

  ‘I think the salad’s seen better days. Slugs, I think. Or mice maybe?’

  I looked up, shocked to see Jazz standing in the entrance to the garden. I still hadn’t clambered back into my suit yet, and all I was wearing underneath was my vest and shorts, which were starting to look and smell a little grimy. I pulled up my hands to my chest in an awkward effort to cover myself.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Jazz laughed. ‘You think I’m going to judge you? I’ve been wearing the same shirt for about a month now!’

  It was true. Jazz was still dressed in the same Hawaiian shirt he’d worn the first time I’d visited the school, though he’d long since dispensed with the dog collar. Now, he mostly wore the shirt unbuttoned, flashing his muscular stomach every time he moved.

  ‘Look, I know I’ve been a little… tetchy.’

  ‘It’s fine. I get it. You’re worried about your daughter. And that’s totally natural. But I honestly believe she’ll be fine. She seems smart. Besides, she made it all the way out here by herself didn’t she? I’m sure she’ll get home okay.’

  At the mention of Amber, I felt a familiar tightening in my chest, my words coming in a breathy tremble. ‘I know but… but she said… about just disappearing…’

  ‘She was just angry. People say things they don’t mean when they’re angry.’

  ‘I know… but… but what if she’s not just saying it. I mean, look at you. You disappeared, didn’t you? I mean, you must have lived somewhere before you came here?’

  Jazz looked pained. ‘It’s complicated. With my parents it was… it was difficult.’

  ‘Hey, look. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I lost people, too. I know how tough it can be to lose someone you love.’

  Jazz shot me a grim smile. ‘Lose someone? Nah, my parents aren’t dead. They live about thirty miles from here. At least as far as I know.’

  I stared at him, confused. ‘So what? You ran away?’

  ‘I didn’t have a choice. It was unbearable there. They treated me like a kid. The whole fucking species is dying out and they wanted to make sure I was up to date with my coursework. I couldn’t take it. You know they tried to put cameras in my room so they could spy on me?’

  I thought of Amber again.

  Anything’s better than going back to that prison we all call home.

  For a moment, I thought I was going to vomit. ‘So, what? You just walked out?’

  ‘And I’ve never looked back,’ he said, before noticing the look on my face. ‘But hey, don’t worry. Your daughter’s not going to do that. My situation was completely different. I couldn’t have stayed any longer. It would have killed me.’

  ‘But going outside without a suit could have killed you, too. Should have killed you. Did you ever think about that?’ I found myself getting angry. ‘Sure, things might have been tough at home, but maybe your parents were trying to protect you? Keep you safe. Did that ever cross your mind? Or were you too busy thinking about yourself? And what about them now? They must be sick with worry. Not knowing if you’re alive or dead. You have to call them. You have to let them know.’

  ‘Jesus, give it a rest.’ His face clouded over. ‘I know you’re worried about your daughter, but there’s no need for you to project that stuff on me. I already told you that our situations are completely different. I did what was right for me at the time. Amber’s going to do what’s right for her. Which I’m sure is going to be heading back home.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said quietly. ‘I’m just worried.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  We lapsed into silence after that. Though it was still hot out, a shiver ran through me, as I once again became acutely aware I was standing there semi-naked.

  ‘So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get dressed.’

  ‘Oh, hey, that reminds me. The reason I came out here was to see if you wanted me to have a look at your suit?’

  I frowned.

  ‘Your suit. You’re going home tomorrow, right? I thought I could patch it for you. I’ve got some thread and stuff. It won’t be perfect, but it’ll be better than it is now.’

  I looked down at the crumpled material in my hands. It seemed silly to worry about a little rip, especially as I was standing around outside in little more than my underwear. Yet at the same time, repairing it would provide some protection if I did happen to bump into anyone on the way back. ‘That would be very kind of you.’

  ‘No problem-o.’ Jazz reached out to take the suit.

  ‘Woah,’ I cried, cowering to conceal my exposed body. ‘Not, like, right now. Let me get dressed first and get back to the boat and then you can collect it.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes really, ’ I blushed. ‘I mean… I don’t want… I…’

  Jazz laughed. ‘It’s cool. I’ll come and grab it in a bit. Now you’d better run along. The last thing you need on top of everything is to catch a cold, right?’

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  ANOTHER SHOT RANG out, and for a second I was too stunned to scream.

  She was dead.

  Amber was dead.

  But then there was another shot, this one further away, and I realised it was someone else who had fired. All of us, including the soldier, turned towards the direction of the gunfire. There was some sort of disturbance taking place further on along the motorway, a man weaving in and out of the stationary lanes of traffic and out of view, followed by what looked like half the army in pursuit.

  The soldier turned back to us. By some miracle, Amber seemed to have recovered slightly, her breathing starting to return to normal while Colin stroked her back.

  In the distance, another trill of gunfire sounded, and the soldier’s radio crackled something indecipherable. He looked torn. ‘Right, you lot,’ he barked at last. ‘Back to your vehicle.’

  None of us moved.

  ‘I said go. That’s an order.’ And with that he sprinted off in the direction of the melee down the road.

  We didn’t have to be told again. The four of us climbed back into the car as quickly as we could, slamming our doors behind us before he could change his mind.

  IT TOOK MORE than seven hours to get off the motorway. It wasn’t just the sheer volume of people returning that had clogged the city’s arteries, though later we would read reports that close to a million people had been on the roads that day. Rather, it was the improvised checkpoints that had been set up between each junction that made it impossible to drive for more than a minute or two without having to stop again. At each of these points, military vehicles were parked sideways across the lanes to create an artificial bottleneck, a militia of bio-suited soldiers ready to stop and inspect each and every vehicle entering the city.

  It was almost two hours before we reached the first of these checkpoints. While we waited, more soldiers patrolled the lines of cars, playing the same distorted message through megaphones, over and over again:

  ‘Please remain inside your vehicle and ensure all doors and windows are closed. We will be with you shortly. Thank you for your patience.’

  When the first of the soldiers reached our car, he pointed at us. For a second, we all froze, bracing ourselves to be dragged outside again. But then the soldier spoke.

  ‘Windows. You need to do up your windows.’

  Colin hesitated for a moment, mumbling in protest.

  ‘But the text message said…’

  The soldier jabbed his finger again and Colin hit the button, sealing us in together.

  ‘Well I guess that’s that,’ he grimaced.

  ‘It’ll be fine.’ I reached for his hand, but he pulled away sharply, fumbling in the side pocket for a squirt of hand sanitiser instead.

  ‘Mummy, do you think we’re going to get shot?’ Charlie asked from the back.

  ‘We’ve been through this. No one’s getting shot, honey. Isn’
t that right, Dad?’

  I turned to Colin for support, but he wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he had pulled the front of his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose, using it as an improvised face mask. With a sigh, I turned to my phone instead, refreshing and re-refreshing the browser in an attempt to get an update on the traffic, the Internet crawling as slowly as the vehicles that surrounded us.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT WAS EVENING by the time Jazz finally called down the stairs to tell me my suit was ready. While I’d waited, I’d examined my body in the dim light of the cabin. It had felt like years since I’d really looked at myself. As a teenager, I remember being permanently perched on the bathroom sink, staring intensely at my reflection. Back then, I’d spend hours agonising over my bad skin, my greasy hair, doing my best with my mother’s make-up to patch myself up. And then there were photos. Parties, concerts, restaurants – even just hanging around at people’s houses – there was the constant threat of being snapped everywhere we went. I remember only too well the agony of waking up after a bleary night out and desperately scanning various social media sites, untagging pictures of myself, begging and bargaining with friends to delete the least flattering offenders, lest they permanently tarnish my carefully cultivated online brand. Thankfully those days are long gone now. I can go weeks without looking in the mirror. It’s not like there’s anything to get dressed up for any more. Photos and video are obviously still important currency, but for the most part they are confined to headshots and can be easily manipulated with the right combination of complimentary lighting, cosmetics and photo-editing software. These days, with the webcam angled exclusively above the shoulders, it’s almost possible to forget you have a body at all.

  Down in Jazz’s secret bedroom, though, I was painfully aware of how old I looked. Even in the drab light I could decipher signs of ageing everywhere. The spidery purple veins that lined my inner thighs. The dimpled sag of my bottom. The downward slump of my breasts. The stretch marks on my belly, the skin loose where it had once been as taut as a snare drum. I felt repulsive. After all those hours I’d spent grooming and primping and dabbing and spraying, I’d still been betrayed by biology.

  Jazz’s voice called out from somewhere above me. ‘Hey, I’m all done.’

  ‘Just leave it up there. I’ll come up and get it when you’re gone.’

  ‘I’ll throw it down. Get dressed. I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  Before I could reply, there was a soft slap as my suit appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Holding it up to the light, I saw Jazz had done a good job with the repair. Indeed, unless you were looking for the rip, you wouldn’t know it was there at all. Again, I was surprised by how able he seemed. Colin couldn’t so much as reattach a button. Yet this kid was practically self-sufficient. It was amazing.

  Once I was dressed, I made my way up the stairs onto the deck, where I was shocked to find Jazz had set out a small table and chairs for dinner. My heart sank. The last thing I felt like doing was sitting down and socialising. In truth, all I wanted to do was to curl up and pass the hours until it was time to leave. On the other hand, it looked like he’d made a real effort. The table was laid with an old curtain to act as a tablecloth, with a tea candle burning in a little dish in the centre. There was even a vase filled with a few stringy dandelions from the garden.

  I took a seat, staring down at the steaming bowl of unidentified mush in front of me. ‘Looks good,’ I said, forcing a smile as I reached for my spoon.

  ‘Hang on. Close your eyes a minute. I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  ‘You mean this isn’t the surprise?’ Still, I did as I was told.

  ‘Okay, you can open them now.’

  I looked up to see Jazz grinning. In his hands was a large glass bottle.

  ‘Is that…?’

  ‘Vodka. I found it in a house a few months ago now. It’s still sealed. I’ve been waiting for the right occasion to crack it.’

  I watched as he pulled out the stopper and took a hit straight from the bottle, before handing it to me. I hesitated. ‘You know, I think I’m going to sit this one out if it’s all the same to you. I’m not exactly in the mood to party.’

  ‘Oh come on! Don’t be such a killjoy. Do you know how rare this stuff is? For all we know, this could be the last bottle on the planet.’

  It was true. Back when the dark web was still active, you could get alcohol delivered to your door, as long as you were willing to pay the eye-wateringly inflated prices. But once that closed and supplies ran dry, there was nothing to replace it with. Of course I’d heard stories online of people making home brew, taking canned fruit and mixing it with water and sugar before leaving it to ferment into moonshine. It didn’t exactly sound like an appealing process, though, and as a result, I hadn’t touched a drop for over four years. Seeing the fresh bottle of vodka made me nostalgic for simpler times. Still, as tempted as I was to escape from reality for a few hours, the sight of Jazz’s lips wrapped around the bottle were enough to put me off. ‘No really, I shouldn’t.’

  ‘Look, if it’s germs you’re worried about, don’t,’ Jazz said with his uncanny ability to read my mind. ‘If I had anything you’d have caught it by now. Besides, the alcohol is a disinfectant. It’ll kill any bugs. Trust me.’

  I snorted. ‘You know, when I was growing up, it was generally considered good sense to run like hell in the opposite direction from any man who asked you to trust him while handing you an open bottle of spirits.’

  All the same, I took the vodka from him and lifted it to my lips, spluttering as it scorched my chest. ‘Jesus!’

  ‘It’s good, right?’ Jazz laughed, taking the bottle back from me.

  ‘I don’t suppose you have any lime or soda?’

  ‘Sorry, we’re fresh out,’ he said, taking another sip. ‘You want some more?’

  ‘No. Definitely not. That’s enough for me.’

  But then I took the bottle anyway. And I drank. And I drank.

  And then I drank some more.

  IN THE OLD world, I’d always been a fairly good drunk, careful to stay on the right side of tipsy, laughing loudly without descending into slurred words and self-pity. That night with Jazz, though, the booze hit me hard. Maybe that’s what I wanted. Certainly, it felt good to relax for once, the anxiety of the last few days melting away with each hit from the bottle. As the hours passed, the two of us settled into a long, rambling conversation.

  ‘So tell me about your family,’ Jazz asked me at one point. ‘I mean, I’ve met Amber. But what about the others. You’ve got another kid, right?’

  ‘Oh come on ,’ I slurred. ‘You don’t want to hear about this stuff. You give me my first drink in half a decade and you want to talk about those guys. Really?’

  ‘I’m serious. It’s interesting. You know, it’s crazy. I find it hard to picture you as a mum. You just don’t seem that… What’s the word?’

  ‘Maternal? Gee, thanks.’

  ‘No. I was going to say you don’t seem old enough.’

  ‘Oh shut up. Now I know you’re drunk. I’m old enough to be your mother. How old are you anyway?’

  ‘Twenty-four? I mean, I’ve kind of lost track of the months. Where are we now? I’m twenty-five in December.’

  ‘Twenty-four. Jesus, what was I doing at your age? Probably too much of this,’ I said, pointing at the bottle. ‘And here you are, building ships at the end of the world. Which begs the question, how the hell did you learn to do all this stuff? You said you were a carpenter. But the gardening. The cooking. I mean, I could hardly make a cup of coffee at your age.’

  ‘Well it’s not like I had much choice. It was either this or… Hey! Stop trying to change the subject. We were talking about your family. So, do you guys get on or what?’

  I made a face. ‘You saw how Amber was with me. That was a fairly good representation of my relationship with my family. They despise me. Or at least, I assume they despise me. They don’t actually speak to me, so it�
��s hard to be sure.’

  ‘I don’t think Amber hates you. I think she’s just frustrated. And who can blame her, right? I mean, it’s not easy growing up like that.’

  ‘Like what? Alive?’

  ‘You know what I mean. So anyway, what about your husband?’

  ‘Colin? Yeah, I’m pretty sure the kids hate him, too.’

  ‘No. I mean, what’s he like? What does he do?’

  ‘Colin’s fine. He’s a computer programmer. He’s been working on some big secret project recently that’s been stressing him out. His company have designed this, I don’t know how to describe it, this virtual desert island or something. It’s a place where rich people pay a load of money to go and hang out. It sounds kind of silly, but he insists it’s a big deal. What’s the phrase he keeps using? Game-changing . Apparently it’s going to be game-changing.’

  ‘Well that sounds… depressing.’

  ‘Depressing?’

  ‘No, I mean, I get why he’s doing it. It’ll probably make him very rich. It’s just that if all the rich people start spending all their time on a virtual beach, I guess that means they’ve given up for good on trying to find a safe way for the rest of us to hang out on an actual beach.’

  ‘Well… I… I hadn’t thought about it like that before,’ I admitted.

  We were both silent for a moment.

  ‘So do you guys get on?’ Jazz asked. ‘You and Colin?’ I shrugged. Took another swig from the bottle. ‘Who knows? We used to, when we were younger. Things were simpler then. Fun. And then we got married and had babies. And for a while, that was fun, too. Not all the time. But we were still essentially on the same page. Even when everything went to shit and people started getting sick, we were still a team. We went through so much stuff together. It was us versus everyone else. But once we sealed ourselves away…’

  ‘He changed?’

  ‘Or maybe we both changed? Never mind the same page, we weren’t even reading the same book any more. It was like he just wilted. Gave up. No, that’s not right. It was more than that. He embraced the new world. If I’m honest, I think he secretly prefers it. Living alone? All that time and space to do whatever he wants? I don’t think he’d move back in with us even if it was safe.’