The Final Hour

Chapter IV: Status Quo

I woke with a start.

A different day, but with the same worry. The same sordid anticipation for the worst. It was also pretty hot. I was sweating through my shirt. Could've sworn I had the fan on last night.

I got up from bed and made my way to the bathroom. Following my usual daily routine, I continued thinking about the coming nightmare that was literally just months away from destroying everything. AGAIN.

Where is Tommy in all this, I wonder. Is he even here? Even if he were, I wouldn't know where to look. Tommy and I only met after the Cleansing had pretty much wiped out the city. I suppose I'll be seeing him then. Taking a mental note of our previous mistakes, I walked up to the small desk by the side of the bed and pulled out a notepad from the drawer, as well as a pen. I wrote down things I needed to fortify the Reynolds' home. They've been good to me. I'd be damned if I didn't return the favour. It's all just a matter of figuring out how to tell them about the Cleansing. How do I tell them without making it sound like I escaped from a sanatorium? They would never believe me.

A knock from the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Good morning, Chuck!" Francine's voice called out from the other side. "Breakfast's ready."

"I'll be there, Franny!" I answered.

I tucked my little shopping list into my pocket and rushed out into the dining room. As expected, Stephen was already helping himself to a delicious meal. Little Alfie was propped in his feeding chair, messily grubbing his hands around. Francine, however, was dressed like she was about to leave.

"Morning, all." I chimed happily. "Where are you headed, Franny?"

"Gotta pick up a few things from the market," she replied as she picked up a handbag. "I left some chores for you boys to do while I'm gone. Make sure they're all accounted for when I get back."

"Yes, ma'am," Stephen said. "Buy me a couple cans of beer, will you?"

Francine heaved a sigh.

"What did we say about drinking in this house?" she asked firmly, more a reminder than a question.

"Just this one time, Fran." Stephen said, almost begging her. "I think I deserve a drink after fixing up your car."

"Alright, fine." she conceded. "Just get the chores done, okay? The list is taped on the fridge."

Stephen muttered a happy affirmation.

Before we knew it, Franny was out. I took a seat on one of the chairs and fixed myself a dish of eggs and bacon.

"No work today?" I asked Stephen.

"Nope, I get to be the stay-at-home parent today." Stephen said through his garbled chewing. "And you get the pleasure of being my accomplice for the job."

We went through the meal, and had the dishes done fast. Stephen wasn't the procrastinating kind, even if he did have the habit of being a couch potato slob. We skimmed through the list of chores and opted to divide the labour between us. I was given the more dirty tasks, which is a typical Stephen thing to do. Part of my task was to w**d the garden. And that's done. I pulled through with my end of the bargain very smoothly, so I decided to take the time to plan my next move. And what better place to plan than in the comforting sight of the greeneries and flowers of a garden?

I was just about to sit on the small veranda in the garden when a voice from the house nextdoor caught my attention.

"Is it so very bad?" the voice asked.

I looked in the direction of the voice and was surprised to see an older fellow watching me. He wasn't senile, but he wasn't in the prime of his life either. Middle-aged, graying hair. "Is it so very bad?" What did he mean by that?

"I'm sorry, Mister?" I asked.

"You've been pacing around in that garden of yours," he answered. "You worried about something?"

"Yes, actually." I replied.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in the Reynolds' home."

"Oh, I'm Stephen's cousin." I said. "I'm staying with them for a bit. Was let go off of work recently."

"Ach, that's too bad," he said. "Is that what you're worrying about?"

"Not exactly, Mister. I'm worried about something else," I responded. "Something much more serious."

I debated with myself whether I should even be divulging there was a problem to begin with. Hell, I hadn't even told Stephen and Francine yet.

"Wanna talk about it, son?" he prodded.

"Maybe some other time, Mister." I replied quickly. "I really gotta get back to my, uh, thing."

"Alright then," he said.

I returned to the veranda and began planning out a strategy that would be enough to defend the Reynolds. Proper fortifications and stocking up on supplies is what every good survivor has ever really needed. And this time, I was prepared with the knowledge of what to expect.

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The days and nights went by as I came closer and closer to a decent fortification and provisions plan. It was all looking good. Of course, the easiest part of a plan is always the planning part. It's easy to imagine and make ambitious claims, but the hard part is where all that is tested. How do I tell Stephen and Francine about the Cleansing? They trust me enough for all the time we've spent together. Surely that must be enough to be given credit to a claim, no matter how unbelievable it may sound.

We need to stock up on supplies and provisions and for that to happen, I'm going to need both Stephen and Francine to cough up their wallets. Money won't matter much when everything hits the fan. But what if they don't believe me? Franny is especially the biggest skeptic between the two. She'll be the hardest to convince. My head is starting to hurt at the thought of everything piling up.

My hand unconsciously traveled to my wrist where the Master Revenant's band was. In all the blurriness and the confusion, I had forgotten this was even on my damn wrist. I raised my arm up to get a closer look at it. I tugged and pulled at it, but it wouldn't come off. There were no locks, no ties holding it together. And yet it remained fastened onto my wrist. What was this band for? It must have some kind of magical property (or should we say, demonic). None of this would have been possible if it weren't for this band. How does this thing even work?

At this point, I'm literally just hurting my own head trying to come up with answers.

"Hey, Chuck." Stephen called out to me.

I was relieved inwardly to have someone to talk to. Maybe it's best I try to forget about the whole Cleansing thing for a while. I'm no good to the Reynolds if I'm panicked and burnt out.

"What's up, Ste?" I asked, smiling. Glad to be out of those thoughts, even for a while.

"It's Alfie's birthday tomorrow, and we're going to be hosting a little party."

Stephen was smiling as he said that. And that smile carried a pride only a parent could ever carry. I wouldn't blame him. He raised a fantastic boy.

"Happy birthday to him!" I chimed happily. "How old is he turning?"

"A year old," he said, beaming. "Franny's got a job for you."

"Oh?"

"She wants you to invite the neighbours. Says it'd be a good way for you to get acquainted with the locals while you're at it."

To be fair, I had been staying inside the house most of the time. I rarely ever left. So Franny asking me to do this is a reasonable request. The more the merrier.

Doable.