The Farm: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale of Survival by Ross Lynch

Author:Ross Lynch [Lynch, Ross]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2017-08-03T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

It’s nearly midnight. Ben had promised himself that he would be asleep by now, but his mind is too restless for that. Instead, he finds himself sat at the side of the bed with his head in his hands.

He turns to look back at Sarah. She is sound asleep. It’s no use, he thinks to himself. I’d better get up.

Getting up to his feet, he makes his way over to the en-suite bathroom. Not wanting to wake his wife, he doesn’t bother flushing the toilet or washing his hands.

Checking that Sarah is still asleep, he pulls on his dressing gown and cautiously makes his way out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he leaves.

He then makes his way along the landing, stopping outside Damien’s bedroom as he considers knocking.

Thinking better of it, Ben eventually moves on and makes his way downstairs for a much needed drink of something strong.

He heads into the kitchen and turns on the lights. Tail wagging, Rio drags himself from his bed to come and greet his master.

Kneeling down, Ben could almost cry as he buries his face into the yellow lab’s soft fur. He plays with his ears and strokes him as he seeks out some much needed comfort and affection.

Dogs really are a man’s best friend.

Getting back up, Ben moves over to one of the cupboards next to the fridge. He lifts out a red biscuit tin. Opening it up, he gets out a hidden half-drank bottle of scotch.

Ben grabs a whiskey glass and then takes a seat at the table. With sadness in his eyes, he pours himself a stiff drink, forcing it down his gullet as quickly as he can, before pouring himself another.

Anxiety courses through his network of veins as he drinks. I need a smoke, he thinks to himself, looking down at his shaking hands. And I need one now.

Ben hides the bottle of scotch back into the cupboard and walks over to the back door. Going outside, he tries to light up a cigarette, but the wind keeps blowing his flame out.

Sticking to him like glue, Rio looks up at him as if to say, “what’s up, friend?”

“Go take a piss,” Ben says, shooing him away. “Go on. Go.”

Rio takes Ben’s advice and has a leak against one of the trees. Again, Ben is just grateful that it’s not against the side of his Fiat.

Sheltering the lighter from the breeze, Ben finally manages to get his cigarette lit. He cannot get the first puff fast enough. When he does though, his muscles instantly relax and he begins to feel normal again.

Rio kicks up some grass, like dogs do, before rushing back over towards his master. He then lies on his back for Ben to stroke his tummy.

Finishing the last drag of his cigarette, Ben stubs it out into the empty plant pot by the back door.

Sarah hates him doing that. She once teased him by saying, “you do know cigarette plants don’t exist, right?”

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