No. Aly was just filthy and disgusting. There wasn’t a part of her left that wasn’t disgusting.
She went over her options again. For the hundredth time.
She’d already tried the door. It wouldn’t open. She’d tried the lock. She’d yanked and pulled on the door, risking being spotted by the driver.
Despite the whine of the engine, she knew that just making the slightest unexpected noise, even if it was overshadowed by a louder noise, would be audible.
Aly didn’t know if the driver was armed.
But she had to assume he was.
If he’d lived this long during the EMP, he’d have to be armed. And despite his mundane and bizarre appearance, extremely capable and dangerous.
Aly’s only chance?
Strangle him from behind with her bare hands.
She didn’t consider herself particularly strong. But she thought she could do it, if she got her arms angled just right.
There was some number of seconds she’d have to squeeze for before he died. She wished she knew the number. Or maybe it wasn’t an absolute thing. Maybe it varied from person to person. And it’d probably depend on how hard she squeezed.
The way Aly figured it, there were two possible outcomes. Either she killed him, at which point he’d die and his body would go limp and the RV would probably veer off the road, crashing into a tree. If she was lucky, Aly would survive the crash.
The other outcome was that he’d overpower her and kill her. Maybe he’d have a knife that he’d pull out quickly, slicing...
Never for a second did she consider that he wasn’t an enemy. An enemy ready to kill her if given the slightest chance or smallest opportunity.
That’s the way the world was now.
There wasn’t any point in waiting any longer. Waiting wasn’t going to change anything. Except for how far away she was getting from her husband and from Jessica.
Aly took a deep breath and sprung up.
She lurched forward, her hands and arms striking out in front of her.
She’d misjudged a little, and her forehead smacked hard into the back of his head.
He let out a grunt of surprise and started to turn around.
But her hands found his neck before he could turn around all the way. She didn’t waste time. She squeezed. She squeezed so hard that she felt the pain intensely in her fingers as they dug into the flesh of his neck.
She’d never squeezed anything so hard in her life.
But then again, she’d never known for sure that her life hung in the balance of how hard she could squeeze.
“Don’t let go,” she kept telling herself. “Don’t let go.” It was a constant refrain in her head.
She felt her own muscles tiring already. How long had it been? Nothing but mere seconds.
But there wasn’t that long to go. How long did it take to strangle someone? She didn’t know.
She only knew that it was too long.
The driver in front of her was making all kinds of noises. Grunts and sick-sounding squeals. Like some kind of animal.
He was thrashing around. His arms were flailing backwards. He was obviously trying to hit her. But he was just hitting the seat back. He was trying to twist his torso this way and that, trying to escape from her grip.
But she held on.
And she hated to hold on. She hated the feeling of the living flesh between her hands. She hated knowing that she was trying to end a life. And not with a knife or a bullet. But with her own two bare hands. Nothing could be more intimate. Nothing could be more intense.
She knew that’s all she had to do. It was all she could do. The only way that she could control in the situation.
The driver’s hands were off the wheel, but the RV was still speeding down the road.
Aly’s eyes were focused on the driver’s neck. And nothing else. But in her periphery, she could see the road and the trees rushing up towards the RV’s windshield. She couldn’t avoid it.
The RV would run off the road. It was unavoidable. The steering wheel was just hanging there, completely unattended. Nobody’s hands were on it.
She felt the bumps as the RV’s front wheels left the pavement.
Soon the RV would crash. Probably into a tree. Or it might run into a rut or a ditch.
Whatever it hit, something would happen, and there’d be an impact in the RV.
That crash would be the time that the driver would have the greatest chance to escape. Maybe Aly would be thrown across the RV.
She could try to keep her hands on his neck. That’s all she could do.
If she was thrown free, she’d have to try to finish the job some other way.
She braced herself for the impact that was only seconds away. And meanwhile, she squeezed as tightly as she could.
8
Jessica
“Don’t take another step,” shouted Jessica.
The world was nothing but a blur in front of her.
Suddenly, she seemed to fully realize just how bad her vision really was. And it terrified her. The lack of something that had been so crucial to her life up until now sent shock waves of adrenaline and fear pumping through her.
She wasn’t the type to let fear overcome her. She’d always felt she had a strong mind and could conquer her own emotions.
But when the voice came at her again, this time closer and clearer, the fear turned to panic.
“It’s OK; I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.”
It was a woman’s voice. An older woman’s voice, by the sound of it. Not that you could tell an age very accurately from a voice. But she was definitely older than Jessica.
Jessica saw a shadow moving towards her. A sizable shadow.
How did Jessica know that this woman was alone? And how did she know that the woman wasn’t a threat?
Maybe it was all just a ruse.
“Just lower the gun and we can talk. I’m not going to hurt you.”
It sounded like the voice was coming to Jessica’s right now. Definitely much closer.
Jessica swung wildly around, trying to get the gun pointed in the direction of the woman. Her finger was on the trigger. She was putting just the slightest amount of tension against it. She wanted to be ready. Ready to pull. Ready to shoot. Ready to kill.
“I’m walking towards you. I don’t want you to be alarmed. You’re really not in good shape.”
Jessica said nothing. She watched the shadows moving closer to her.
Suddenly, something collided with Jessica’s right side.
It was a hard hit. Knocked the wind right out of her.
It had all been a trick.
And she had known it.
She should have fired indiscriminately when she’d had the chance.
The next thing she knew, she was tumbling down onto the ground. Was it pavement or grass? Or dirt? She didn’t know. There wasn’t time to register what had happened.
Jessica kept her hands tight on the gun.
The shadows were in front of her.
She was pretty sure the muzzle wasn’t pointed at her own body. And she was pretty sure that if she didn’t defend herself, she was about to die.
These were her last moments. Most likely, at least.
Jessica pulled the trigger.
The gun went off.
And nothing happened.
She hadn’t shot herself. She felt no pain.
And she heard no scream.
She hadn’t hit anyone either.
She pulled the trigger again.
Again, nothing.
There was weight on top of her. Knees digging into her abdomen, keeping her from breathing.
Hands on her gun. Strong hands. Wrestling it away from her.
She struggled. She tried to hold on. She tried to keep breathing.
But it wasn’t any use.
The gun was yanked from her hands. She didn’t have the strength to fight it.
It was a horrible feeling, realizing that
she’d lost not just her weapon, but her strength as well.
Hands pinned her wrists down to the ground. She couldn’t move her arms or her hands. She couldn’t fight back. She was stuck. The worst way to die. The worst way to go out, being unable to fight back. Just lying there waiting for the end.
This was likely the end. Soon enough, she expected hands to wrap around her neck. Or a knife to pierce her lungs. Or for her own gun to discharge, muzzle pointed right at her forehead.
There were countless ways this stranger could kill her.
It’d be easy.
But what would the reward be?
A moment of safety, that’s what. Just one more threat eliminated for the moment. Only for another to come up later. And then another. It wasn’t like Jessica was the only armed human in this part of the country. It was likely that most of those who were still left alive were armed.
Mere seconds left.
And she couldn’t even clearly see her attacker. She’d thought about this moment ever since the EMP. She’d imagined that she’d at least see the eyes clearly of the person who’d eventually kill her.
No, she hadn’t been delusional enough to think that she’d survive forever, that she’d eventually pass away peacefully in her sleep the way her grandparents and great-grandparents had at a greatly advanced age.
No, she’d known that she’d go out violently. That was the way the world was now.
But she’d at least thought that she’d go out fighting. Really fighting. Not just pulling the trigger on her gun and having nothing happen. She’d thought that she’d have taken out a couple of the other guys, that she’d really put up a good fight. Maybe such a good fight that someone, some survivor, would remember how fiercely she’d fought and how dangerous she’d been.
Before the EMP, she’d always been an independent woman. She’d always taken care of herself. She’d always given people hell when they’d messed with her.
In a way, maybe, it was fitting that she died alone, not knowing who her killer was. Away from her friends. Away from Jim and Aly and Rob. They’d helped her survive this long. After all, she may have been fine on her own before the EMP. But after it? No, she definitely needed friends. She needed a team.
She hadn’t lasted long without a team. How long had it been? Half an hour since she’d woken up? Maybe not even that long. She didn’t know. Her mind still felt fuzzy.
The seconds were passing now. Time was continuing. And it would continue without her. She’d be dead. Her friends would wonder what happened to her. If they survived themselves, that is.
The seconds were turning into minutes.
She wasn’t dead yet.
Why not?
“Nice weapon you have here,” said the voice again. It sounded farther away.
Suddenly, upon hearing the voice, Jessica realized that the hands that had pinned her wrists down were gone. And the pressure on her abdomen was gone as well.
Jessica instinctively tried to get up. As quickly as she could. But as she tried to stand, she fell over, somehow tripping on her own ankle.
She fell right onto her face.
It hurt.
Felt like her nose was broken. Or had she broken it before? She couldn’t remember. Her mind was a mess, and she was only starting to realize it. Had she suffered a concussion?
Probably.
Blood on her lips. On her tongue. It wasn’t a foreign taste, but she still couldn’t remember if her nose had already been broken.
Her body was exhausted.
She lay there, face down, not moving.
“Whoa, you took a real tumble there. Here, let me help you up.”
It was that voice again. Definitely a woman’s voice. But it sounded younger this time.
Jessica was too tired to raise her hand. And too distrustful. Her mind was just confused. Too confused.
But the voice’s hand found Jessica’s hand on its own. It was a small hand. Soft skin. Not rough and weathered.
Jessica wrapped her fingers around the hand. And she felt the hand start to pull her up.
The flesh was delicate, but the force of the arm behind it was strong.
Before she knew it, Jessica was on her feet.
On her feet. But unsteady, swaying back and forth.
“You look terrible,” said the voice. “Can you see anything?”
“Barely,” mumbled Jessica, blood in her mouth.
“Here, just a second. I’ve got a clean handkerchief here somewhere. I’ll get you cleaned up a little.”
Just then, Jessica remembered that she probably had a knife. Or did she? Had something happened to it? Had she lost it?
Well, she either had the knife or she didn’t. If she did, she could reach into her pocket, get the knife, and stab this woman who was right in front of her. Jessica may not have been able to see her clearly, but she knew she wasn’t far away. And she knew that this woman was busy trying to fish a handkerchief out of a pocket or a backpack.
In front of her, all Jessica saw were dull shapes. It looked almost human. And almost animal-like. As if she were living in a strange dream, where nothing looked as it should have looked.
Or if she couldn’t find the knife, she could use her hands. She may have been weak, but maybe she had the strength for one last attack, especially if it meant that she herself either lived or died.
But it didn’t mean that, did it?
This woman had been a threat.
And now she wasn’t.
What kind of threat tries to get a handkerchief for you?
Plus, that woman’s voice, well, there was something to it. Something that she hadn’t heard in a while.
Was it kindness?
In this new world where all the rules had fallen to the wayside, where only the cruel and vicious seemed to survive, was it possible that a kind woman was out there? Ready to help a stranger clean her face? Especially a stranger who had just tried to shoot her.
Jessica didn’t end up deciding. But in a way, she did, since she spent so long thinking it all over.
“Here you go, finally found it. Now hold still. Try not to flinch too much. It might hurt. But you should see what your eyes look like. There’s all this dried blood... Just a little bit of water... should do the trick.”
The woman’s voice kept sounding younger and younger. If Jessica had to guess now, she might figure the woman for being no more than twenty.
Jessica felt the wet cloth on her face. Rubbing gently.
It felt good. The water was cool. And the motion was soothing. It was the opposite of the violence she’d expected. The complete opposite.
“Now this might hurt a little. I’m going to have to really rub on this to get the dried blood off... what happened to you, anyway?”
“Long story,” mumbled Jessica. “But who are you?”
“Maddy.”
It wasn’t that painful. Just a little rubbing.
“There, is that better?”
Jessica blinked a few times. She rubbed her eyes with her hand.
“I can see.”
“I can’t believe you could at all before.”
Jessica’s vision was by no means completely back. But it was better.
Still, she could only see out of one eye.
And the world was still blurry
But without the dried blood that she hadn’t realized was there, the woman in front of her started to come into focus.
The first thing that Jessica noticed was that she was pretty. She had long bright blonde hair that was tied behind her in a ponytail. And she had a face with features that in another time would have landed her a modeling contract, no questions asked. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two.
Maddy was now peering into Jessica’s eye. “I’m assuming you hit your head,” she was saying. “Your pupil is contracted. Just a tiny little dot. I think you’ve got a concussion.”
“Must be why I feel so funny.”
“Here, you’d better have som
e water. You might be dehydrated.”
Jessica was still stunned by this complete stranger’s kindness.
But she didn’t have long to be stunned by it.
The roar of multiple motorcycles coming down the road was suddenly unmistakable.
A frown of worry suddenly overtook Maddy’s pretty face.
“Come on,” she said. “We’ve got to get to cover.”
Maddy had a large camping backpack that she shouldered, yanking down on the straps.
Jessica took a step forward, but she felt herself tottering. She was unsteady on her feet.
“Here, take my hand,” said Maddy, extending her arm.
Jessica looked down at it, and for a moment, the blurry vision faded in and then out again.
Should she take the hand?
After all, Maddy was a complete stranger.
She seemed nice. But so did a lot of people.
And Jessica was in no position to defend herself against an attack.
She was helpless. And about to become completely dependent on someone else.
This was hard for Jessica.
After all, she’d always been independent.
“Give me my gun back, and I’ll take your hand,” said Jessica.
Maddy paused. A new look came over her face. It was hard to read. After all, Jessica didn’t really know her, and it usually took her a while to learn how to accurately interpret new people’s facial expressions.
Maddy took the gun out of somewhere.
Now it was in her hand.
For a second, a thought flashed across Jessica’s mind. That she’d upset Maddy. That she shouldn’t have spoken like that. And that Maddy was going to shoot her.
But Maddy just flashed a smile and handed the gun back to Jessica. “You’ve got a trustworthy face,” she said. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. Those bikers have been terrorizing this area for the last week.”
And with that, the two of them rushed off towards the trees, Jessica following now a couple paces behind, trying not to glance over her shoulder too often.
9
Aly
Aly kept waiting for the crash. For the RV to smash into something. For the wheels to hit a ditch, catch, and for the whole vehicle to flip over.
Final Dread: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Surviving Book 3) Page 6
