The Last Magician

Jack's Analysis

Time had passed since the moment in the hallway; how much no one could exactly say. The sky had become dim, suggesting night was coming but that was as close as it could be gauged.

Anyone would be forgiven for thinking only seconds had gone by inside the old house on Rushton Lane. Kurt rested on the wall of the staircase; Jack stood by their belongings across the hall. Conversation had been sparse as they contemplated the effect of this latest development. The child changed things and each of them knew it.

Amanda remained crouched on the floor for some time before she noticed the child was falling asleep in her arms. Jack suggested she should let him sleep in one of the rooms; probably the first true sleep he had without fear of attack.

As Amanda slipped away, Jack began to sift through the piles of clutter they had accumulated during their search, which seemed a lifetime ago.

“This is everything?” Kurt asked. “Everything we own between us is right here on this floor?”

Jack nodded. “Almost. There are a couple of things in my pocket, the rifle, whatever the boy has hidden away elsewhere. Other than that, this is it.”

“Survival of the fittest in its most extreme.”

Jack felt a smile crease the corner of his mouth. Kurt was growing on him. He was at that age when kids became cocky and thought they could take on the world. Kurt was capable of having that attitude, more than capable, but so far he had been straight down the line.

Jack’s mind whirred with thoughts, ideas and possibilities. So much had happened in what seemed like a short space of time and much of it had been controlled by external forces. He had been drawn to this house where Amanda waited for him, Kurt’s cell has called to both of them, and then they had returned to the house to discover the latest of their number. It all seemed too planned.

That was what worried him most. Why did it all fit into place like a simple puzzle? Or was he just looking too close for something more? Maybe that was it; there was nothing more to it than simple coincidence and luck that they had found each other. It wasn’t the greatest stretch of the imagination to believe that; not considering what lay outside.

So many questions surrounded everything; so many more puzzles to be undone. Jack wasn’t sure if he was the one who should be responsible for unlocking the secrets that had eluded them so far. He wasn’t a leader; Amanda certainly seemed to look to him for guidance and Kurt was not far behind. Jack had noticed how he made the decisions, he began discussions, he entered places first and chose which direction to take. Why? Why him?

He continued sorting through their belongings, splitting the recoverable from the debris, holding back the cyclone of uncertainty building inside.

Jack knew he couldn’t afford to think like that. There were enough doubts without adding his own. He wouldn’t be a leader but he wasn’t about to desert on the others. The only way forwards was to continue the way he had so far; one step at a time.

Yet he could not help envision where the road would take them. One step at a time, he told himself, but the first one is the biggest.

If he was certain of anything it was that they would find nothing more here. The certainty frightened him almost as much as his doubts. How could he know there were no more survivors here, possibly trapped, possibly dying? He couldn’t, but they couldn’t spend any more time in the village. Their own survival had to be a top priority and food was scarce. It could be miles to the next village, further still to anywhere substantially larger.

All that remained was the final decision over what they carried with them. Anything left behind this time would stay left behind.

Whatever happened, they wouldn’t be coming back.