Boom, Butterfly Effect

Jasper was above average for his age. Above average height - standing at a gangly and awkward 6 foot 5 inches. Above average intelligence – his eyes skittered about taking everything into his brain for his almost perfect memory to sort and file. And, in his opinion, he had above average responsibility on his only just full-grown shoulders. He was towing Cobie through a part of town they didn’t traverse much, and this was cause enough to be wary of one’s surroundings. In the grand scheme of his comparatively short-lived life, he felt he had in fact been dealt a very rough hand. Cobie, with his wide eyes and jumpy demeanour, Cobie who had grown up so much in the last two years, Cobie who was unbelievably brave, Cobie who was… where was Cobie? Jasper snapped back into his current surroundings and spotted his little brother crouched over a butterfly that was lazily flapping its wings to remain perched on a bush that was engulfing most of a nearby house.

‘Oi! Cobie!’ Jasper strode over and grabbed him by the shoulder pulling him away from the dark mass of the bush.

‘What’s the first rule mate?’ It was a set of rules they went over and over every time they ventured out from the bunker and yet somehow Cobie still managed to evaporate them out of his head within half an hour. Cobie had a memory like a sieve, how he and Jasper were related baffled even the gods - if there were any to be baffled that is.

‘If it can conceal, treat it as a threat,’ muttered Cobie kicking the dirt by his foot. The butterfly had taken off at the noise Jasper’s approach had stirred up.

‘Exactly, so why were you leaning over a bush, idiot?’ Jasper shook his head in exasperation and kept walking. ‘You’re a menace.’

‘It was just a butterfly’ Cobie complained trailing after his older brother. ‘It’s not like it was gonna grow teeth and eat me, or fly off with me, or sumthin.’

‘You having no regard for your own safety means that I now have to have double the regard for both your and my safety, I apologise for not wanting to explain to dad how you became a pile of pulp at my feet.’ That, as his father would have said, was a non-apology. A non-apology was when one of the brothers said the word sorry whilst meaning every word in the universe other than it. Non-apologies were the only sort of sorry that came out of either of their mouths.

‘Thank you for saving me from the terror of the great butterfly lord,’ Cobie giggled, and Jasper softened ever so slightly.

‘Oh come on then you,’ he grouched before crouching down in front of Cobie, ‘want a piggy-back?’

‘I’m so too big for that now Jas geez, you’d have to put on way more muscles for you to be able to carry me now,’ Cobie flexed his arm which did absolutely nothing, but then again, he was still a kid, he had time to grow up.

‘Alright, sorry big man,’ Jasper shook his head as they continued on their way through the abandoned streets.

‘It’s true I am the biggest of men,’ Cobie ran ahead of him scouting and Jasper let himself relax, after all this settlement had been abandoned for close to six months now and he could let Cobie have a little more leash. Cobie chased butterflies along the street and Jas was briefly reminded of a book he had read in college before everything had gone to shit. In one small corner of the world, a butterfly can beat its wings once and a million miles away a tree falls.

‘Boom,’ he said quietly to himself, ‘butterfly effect.’

They reached the last house in the row and Jasper immediately switched his brain back on, cautioning Cobie behind him and slipping the shotgun slung across his back off his shoulder.

‘Ready Cobs?'

'Ready Jas.’

Jasper slammed his shoulder into the door which had long been decaying at the hinges and swung the barrel of the gun round it followed by Cobie holding their torch high to illuminate the room. There was nothing there, just like there never was, Jas lowered the gun and glanced around noting that his heartbeat had barely risen. He’d known there’d be nothing here, but still just in case. They dug through the cupboards and closets when he heard a shout from Cobie.

‘Oi Jas, come look at this!’ Jas came running and slowed when he was met by Cobie in the doorway to what had clearly been a bedroom. He was holding up a red shirt that miraculously had no holes in it, ‘oh can I keep it Jas, please? We can sanitise it when we get back, oh please Jas please mate it's such a cool colour.

Jas nodded his heartbeat slowing again, ‘don’t shout like that, christ Jacob.’

‘But can I keep it?’ Cobie skated over his concern solely focused on the shirt in his hands.

‘Yes, you can keep it, help me find some food and some more batteries first though.’

They scavenged through the rest of the house and slowly filled up Jasper’s knapsack with canned food which probably wasn’t overly out of date yet; beans, chilli con-carne, biscuits, the apocalypse traversers dream.

The apocalypse by definition meant the end of all things, like Ragnarök for the ancient Norse pantheon, all gone all over, but their apocalypse had been extremely lacklustre. Although they had no idea how many other people had survived, they clearly had, and their dad. The world had been riddled with pandemics for years before the virus to kill all viruses had swept through the country and the world. It did kill all other viruses in it killed everyone which the viruses could live off of, did you know that viruses are living organisms just like us? Jas found that fact pretty cool, it was like a whole ‘nother life form was waging war on them. This particular virus though had had some peculiar side effects, and just like that, the zombie apocalypse had begun. When you read about the dystopian zombie apocalypse theories in books Jasper mused, they had all seemed a lot more exciting, what they were living through just now was more of a severe inconvenience. They had lost friends of course, but when everyone had fled there was no way to keep in contact with each other, maybe not knowing if someone was dead for certain made it easier to keep the fact that they probably were at bay.

They made their way back to the bunker in relative silence for those two, Jasper was locked up in his own thoughts as he so often was, Cobie knew better than to interrupt his brother when he had such an intense look on his face but it was Cobie who tugged on his sleeve to stop Jasper walking straight into the bear trap they’d set up two days previously. Jasper jumped slightly but nodded to Cobie, ‘thanks, man.’

‘Jas, I can hear something…’ Cobie tugged on him again and then finally Jasper heard it, the steady rustling of leaves around them, and then the so drastically noticeable lack of a breeze. He brought the shotgun to the ready again and the two slid back-to-back circling slowly. The bear trap went off first with a metallic crash that split the silence followed by the ghostly groan of pain that Jasper had almost forgotten the noise of. A reaper breed, the fastest and quietest of all the zombies known to him at this moment. Oh, and another thing about reapers, they cannot be killed.

‘Cobie,’ he gripped the shotgun so tightly his knuckles were blooming white, ‘run.’

As if the groan had been a signal a group of four reapers emerged out of the trees around them. Cobie stumbled backward fear clouding his eyes and Jasper pushed him with all of his might towards the bunked.

‘Cobs, go!’

Cobie ran. Cobie ran faster than he had ever in his life before that moment, and he had done track in high school. He could hear the noise of the shot gun echoing behind him and he vaulted a low lying tree that had fallen during a storm a few weeks prior. He spotted the steal hatch of the bunker and made a desperate slide towards it before taking a split second to glance back. Jasper was trying to reload; he’d slowed two of the reapers by destroying a good portion of their face, but they were still coming, and the two unharmed were rapidly closing the gap on him. Cobie ran, back towards Jasper. With a yell that broke in his throat as it erupted, he hurled a rock at the one closest to Jas and waved his arms crazily.

‘Hey, loser! Bet you can’t catch me!’ The reaper was ever so briefly distracted from the Jas in front of it and just in time Jasper swung the shot gun upwards and blasted a hole right through its jaw. He was already running before any of the reapers could react, the blasts could be heard from a mile around, and anything in the area with ears was coming. Jasper and Cobie ran. For the first time Jasper noticed, even as they were fleeing for their lives, how Cobie kept pace with him. The brothers ran like their lives depended on it – because they did. As Cobie scrambled to get the bunker open Jasper lowered the gun to eye level and took two more resounding shots into the lead reaper who was clawing at their heels. Cobie grabbed his arm and the two practically fell down the ladder of the bunker, Jasper pulling the door closed and holding it fast whilst the foot falls and screams of the reapers above them seemed to bounce all throughout the shelter. He spun the lock and the two lay on the floor at the bottom of the ladder panting and then Cobie started laughing. It was a nervous giggle, but somehow it was contagious and Jasper felt his breath catch as he began to laugh as well.

‘Oh my god,’ Cobie spluttered, ‘that was the coolest thing I’ve ever done, I totally saved your ass.’

Without warning Jasper pulled Cobie into a quick hug before releasing him, ‘you sure did big man.’

Up in the world above, the lasting noise of the shot gun acted as a magnet for everything living and dead. The shuffling foot steps filled the forest, and the brothers looked up as they realised the predicament of their situation. They definitely couldn’t go back outside for quite a while to give whatever assorted breeds they’d informed of their position time to disperse and their dad wasn’t due home for a good week. Their laughter rapidly died in their throats.

The brothers were not a well-oiled unit. Jasper, as the elder of the two, felt it was his responsibility to pass on at least some of his skills to Cobie. Unfortunately nothing he was particularly skilled in was helpful to the apocalypse. He played the guitar and could recite several verses of hamlet from memory. His one redeeming trait for improved survival odds was that he could shoot. Well, he could shoot a shot gun, at very close-range, point-blank range really. Jasper got up from where he lay on the floor with Codie and did what he did best – he improvised.

Cobie was bored, and what he did best when he was bored was annoy Jasper. His brother was bent over the practically ancient stove they had managed to salvage and set up down here when it had all started trying to make some spaghetti. It sounded silly to him when he said it out loud but Cobie could barely remember what life had been like before the apocalypse. Despite being a grand old age of fourteen cycles of the sun the final lockdown was just before his twelfth birthday and prior to that he felt like everything he could remember of life was a fuzzy sort of haze. He had been on the track team in school which had definitely been a plus now that running was a lot more important than it use to be. He couldn’t remember if he’d been any good in school – at running or lessons – but he guessed it probably didn’t matter anymore.

His memory bothered him sometimes but not often, he just assumed that with all the new information he was learning about breeds and survival that the old memories were being shoved out to make room for all the new stuff. That was why Jasper had such a big head, he remembered everything. He flicked another small pebble at the back of Jasper’s shins but missed and it clinked off the stove. It was their dad who had found the place. Apparently a lot of years ago there had been this war that hadn’t actually been a war, or rather it had been a war but not with like trenches and tanks and stuff. Anyway, during this war, lots of very powerful people were threatening all the other powerful people that they were going to blow up other powerful people’s countries with noocelar bombs, because of this lots of normal people built shelters to survive if those bombs were ever dropped. Dad knew a lot more about this stuff than he did and that was how he’d found their little bunker, readily equipped with all the things one would need to survive the apocalypse. If, that is, the apocalypse was one swift bomb blast and not thousands of breeds insistent on feeding. Even the dead have to eat he supposed.

‘Jassss,’ he whined, ‘I’m hungry.’

‘I know Cobie I’m just coming mate,’ Jasper glanced back down at the sauce he was attempting to make for the spaghetti. He was a lot of things, he was good at a lot of things, but cooking was not one of them. Even in college, he had lived off of the Indian takeaway that he lived above, it was a life skill that he was sorely lacking but he also wasn’t prepared to be laughed at by Cobie. Especially if he had to cook for them until dad came back – if dad came back. No, when, Jasper reminded himself sternly. Alive until proven otherwise.

‘Jassssss,’ Cobie flicked another pebble at his calf and this time it hit him.

‘Ouch! Lil bugger you,’ Jas grabbed at him but with no real force behind it. ‘Here you go you ungrateful little shit.’ He handed Cobie a bowl and sat down on the floor next to him.

‘The pasta’s too hard’ said Cobie after a minute of munching.

‘Sorry,’ retorted Jasper unapologetically, ‘says the one who can’t even reach the stove.’

This was a downright lie but it made Jasper feel better. It might have been true several years ago but Cobie had had a growth spurt over the last few months and was now barely shorter than Jasper himself.

They munched some more and Jasper strummed absentmindedly on his guitar.

‘Will you teach me?’ Cobie’s voice broke the silence for the second time.

‘Huh?’ Jasper wasn’t paying attention and blinked when he realised his brother had spoken.

‘To play the guitar, it might pass the time?’ There was a sincerity behind his eyes that Jasper seldom saw and it troubled him.

‘Of course mate come here,’ Jasper held out the guitar and sat teaching Cobie how to play basic chords, C, G, Am, F.

‘Once you’ve nailed those you can play almost any pop song out there,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Pretty simple right?’

Cobie nodded; the strings hurt his fingers more than he anticipated but in actuality he just wanted Jasper’s attention. Cobie didn’t like to admit he was afraid at his grand age but he was. The four chords Jasper showed him gave him something to focus on. Briefly, he wondered if this was the same reason Jasper played. Jasper was good at much more than he was Cobie felt, and when he was in a non-abrasive mood he tried to learn as much he could from his brother. Other than how to cook pasta of course.

Jasper sat watching him and smiled, it sounded terrible but the imperfection made the tune distinctly Cobie. He let Cobie play around until he was yawning and rested his head on Jasper’s shoulder, who let him sit there for a moment before getting up and rinsing their bowls.

‘Get to bed you,’ he said motioning to Cobie to the mattress that lay on the floor in one corner. ‘I’ll sit watch if you like.’ Acts were as close as the brothers got to saying they cared for the other. Their father always said actions speak louder than words although both Jasper and Cobie would disagree – albeit for different reasons. If pressed for why by his father Jasper would say that words have more power than actions, they are long-lasting and can be remembered and rewritten for centuries containing their power – even the most powerful of actions is spoken about through words for the ages. Actions need words to have any power at all. His dad would open his mouth about to have a debate with Jasper who was riled up at the possibility he was being accused of being wrong but then Cobie would butt in to say that ‘clearly words speak louder than actions because actions can’t speak;’ their father would laugh and the dispute between himself and Jasper would be forgotten.

His guitar returned to his lap Jasper played softly and the tune drifted up out of the bunker infusing the air around with its slightly out of tune melody.

As it alighted for a moment on the steel hatch for a moment, a butterfly beat its wings.