FROM THE FALL ARCHIVES CHARACTER STORY: DARYL

 The first sign something was wrong wasn’t the news.

It was the silence.

Daryl stood behind the counter of his small shop near the shopping centre, watching the empty pavement through the dusty front window. Normally, by this time in the morning, the street would be busy with parents walking their kids to school, delivery vans making their rounds and the usual chatter of everyday life.

Today there was nothing.

His radio crackled on the shelf behind him. Every station carried the same message.

Stay indoors. Avoid contact with anyone displaying signs of aggression.

Daryl turned the volume down. The words didn’t sit right with him. Aggression didn’t cause entire towns to shut down.

The bell above the shop door jingled.

Ellie stepped inside, Zak trailing behind her. Their son clutched a toy dinosaur in one hand.

“You’ve heard the announcements?” she asked.

Daryl nodded. “Aye. Doesn’t sound good.”

Outside, somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.

Zak wandered over to the shelves of canned food. “Dad, why are the roads empty?”

Daryl didn’t answer straight away. His eyes were fixed on the street.

A man staggered around the corner.

At first, he looked drunk. His clothes were stained dark, and he stumbled as he walked. Another man ran towards him, shouting something Daryl couldn’t hear through the glass.

Then the staggering man lunged.

The second man screamed.

Daryl’s stomach dropped.

“Ellie,” he said quietly. “Lock the door.”

She saw the look in his eyes and didn’t argue. The bolt slid into place just as the screaming outside grew louder.

Zak looked between them, confused.

“What’s happening?”

Daryl didn’t answer. He moved closer to the window instead, keeping himself to one side as he watched what was happening outside.

The screaming stopped.

The attacker remained hunched over the man for several seconds before suddenly lifting his head. Blood covered his mouth and chin.

Daryl instinctively stepped back from the glass.

Then the man staggered away and disappeared around the corner.

Daryl waited, watching the empty street.

Nothing moved.

He grabbed the keys from the counter.

“We’re leaving,” he said.

They moved quickly through the shop.

Daryl filled crates with everything he could carry — tinned food, bottled water, flour and dried goods. Ellie packed medicines and batteries while Zak dragged smaller bags towards the door.

When everything was ready, Daryl returned to the window.

The street was still empty.

“We do this fast,” he said. “Straight to the car and back. Nobody wanders off.”

He unlocked the door.

They loaded the car as quickly as they could, Daryl constantly looking up and down the street. Every distant shout made him stop. Every siren made him look over his shoulder.

Within fifteen minutes, the car was full.

Daryl stood in the doorway and took one last look around the shop.

Years of work sat on those shelves. Everything he’d built.

He switched off the lights and locked the door behind him.

“Come on,” he said.

The drive home was chaos.

Cars had been abandoned in the road. Smoke rose in the distance. People shouted and ran between vehicles. At one junction, a man hammered on their window, begging for help, but Daryl kept driving.

Ellie looked at him.

Daryl kept his eyes on the road.

When they reached their house, he didn’t waste any time.

The food went straight inside. Windows were locked, curtains pulled tight and furniture dragged against the doors.

Zak sat quietly on the stairs, watching his parents move around the house.

“Are we safe here?” he asked.

Daryl stopped.

He looked at Ellie, then at the walls of their home.

“For now,” he said.

Outside, somewhere in the town, a scream echoed through the evening air.

Daryl stood listening to it fade into the distance.

And he knew one thing for certain.

The world they had woken up in that morning was already gone.