The light was on in the dining room, and Matt’s parents were eating dinner with his little sister. He stood in the lounge room, leaning against a wall in the dark, and listened for a moment, imagining he was in the room with them.
‘Daddy, you dropped your chicken!’
‘What? Oh, Jeez. Don’t look at me like that, Sarah.’
‘Isn’t there something you should say to your daughter, James?’
‘Uh. Oh, yeah. I’m sorry about what happened earlier, with the knife.’
‘That’s okay, Daddy. He asked me to hold the tomato and then he slipped and cut me!’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It was an accident.’
‘Oh really?’ Matt’s mother said. ‘So how come you did the same thing to me just yesterday?’
‘Ah, oooh, well I guess I’m just clumsy, huh?’
‘I can’t help it if she’s jiggling the carrots around.’ It was his dad alright, but he was putting on a show of happiness. Matt saw through it, because he was looking for it. His father was scared.
‘Where’s Matt tonight, Mommy?’
‘He’s at Dale’s house. He said he’d be back at nine or ten… which is after your bed time, baby girl.’
‘I’m not a baby.’
‘Well, the way you were crying about that little cut…’ Matt didn’t hear the rest, because he was back out the front door, walking fast. He gritted his teeth – it helped stop the tears. He thought he was moving aimlessly through the streets, but soon enough he came to see that he was heading straight for Westlake park, and he knew why, too.
There was nothing left here for him, on Earth. His entire family was infected. Dale had put on a strong front, but a front was all it was. Earth was as dead as the world the parasite had come from. One day some other traveller would come upon it, and it would be full of jungles and oceans and mountains, but there wouldn’t be a sign of life. If there was, it would be knotted with muscle, black skinned, and ravenous. Dale and the others had their families, but Matt had only himself now, and if he stayed, he would die. He had no one to rescue.
He still had the Stanley knife in his pocket, but he took a detour by Dale’s house and left the box containing all of the keys on his front doorstep. They’d need them when they went back to Zindel. After that, he stuck his hands in his pocket, pulled his hood down so the flies couldn’t get to him, and made a beeline for the rolling hills and forest of Westlake park.
He was not aware of a figure in a thick jacket, hands similarly tucked into pockets and hood pulled down, who followed him all the way to the rickety wooden fence and over it, keeping just far enough away to evade notice. A gibbous moon cast long shadows over everything, but Matt was listening to the sirens and his eyes were fixed on the tall pines silhouetted against the sky, marking the forest. Soon, the figures of both boys were lost in the dark.