Light After Darkness: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Survive the Darkness Book 6)

by Ryan Casey

  LIGHT AFTER DARKNESS

  A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller

  RYAN CASEY

  CONTENTS

  Bonus Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Aoife walked towards the helicopters with Kayleigh and Rex and wasn’t sure she’d felt this frigging nervous her entire life.

  It was a dark night, but the sky was lit up with artificial light, which was completely fucking surreal. Blinding light from the helicopters, glaring across the grassy ground before them, contrasting the jet black of night. The deafening sound of those rotors, kicking a dusty breeze towards her. And behind her, the chatter of Robert’s people. The crying. The elation and the joy.

  Suddenly, everything Robert had spoken and preached about seemed totally irrelevant. Even to his most loyal adherents.

  Because right here, right before them all, was an opportunity.

  A chance to get away.

  Hope.

  Kayleigh winced as she tried to walk. Her leg was still sore from the fall from Robert’s window, and in a bad way. But she didn’t have to run on it anymore. She’d made it. They’d both made it. It didn’t matter how exhausted and how weak and malnourished and dehydrated the pair of them felt. Because they’d made it.

  They’d fought out of Robert’s camp. They’d escaped his people—people who now looked transfixed by the reality of the helicopters before them.

  All of that suddenly felt irrelevant.

  Because the way out was here.

  A chance for something better.

  A chance for a new start.

  But then, out of nowhere, Aoife’s stomach turned. Butterflies fluttered around her chest.

  What if these people weren’t who she wanted them to be?

  What if they weren’t their saviours?

  What if they were something else entirely?

  Something far more malicious?

  She’d fallen for false hope before. What if this was the same?

  She thought about Thomas Suzuki. About his dog tag. She reached into her pocket and clutched it tightly with her shaking hands. Thought of those words underneath his name.

  Order of Light.

  What if this Order of Light weren’t who they were cracked up to be—whoever they were?

  “Aoife?”

  She looked around. Saw Kayleigh staring at her. Wide-eyed, pale. And just hearing her speak, being reminded of her presence, it made her realise she had a decision to make.

  But no. There was no decision about it, really. What else could she do?

  There was only one way she could find out who these people were. What they wanted. And whether they were the saviours and the source of hope Aoife so desperately wanted them to be—the saviours and the source of hope they looked like.

  She had to speak to them.

  And she had to find out for herself.

  “Come on,” Aoife said, tightening her grip on Kayleigh’s warm, shaking hand. “Let’s go find out what they’re here for.”

  And then, as nervous as she felt, as terrified as she was, and as much as she had no idea whether there would be good news or bad news at the end of it… Aoife, Kayleigh, and Rex walked.

  She looked ahead. Squinted into the blinding light. Looked at those dark silhouettes, standing there, staring at her, staring at all of Robert’s people following behind.

  Or at least the ones who had chosen to follow.

  Aoife looked back at them. Saw them similarly transfixed by the helicopters. Transfixed and hypnotised by this entire scene before them.

  And as much as she’d fought them… she couldn’t view it that way. She’d been in conflict with Robert, not his people. He was the one who exploited these people. Who thrived on their fears. Who boosted his own ego and garnered his strength from the weak. Who abused his position of power and wanted all these people to himself.

  She wanted them to find a better life for themselves. She really wanted that, more than anything. Truly.

  And she hoped these helicopters could provide it.

  She turned back around. Saw the people up ahead. And she knew there was no time to waste anymore.

  She took another deep breath, and she kept on walking.

  She walked closer and closer to these people. To the helicopters. The people from the helicopters were dressed in black like Thomas had been. And they were armed, too. Armed with rifles. Fuck. What if they weren’t on Aoife’s side after all? What if they weren’t on the side of the people?

  What if they were here for destruction?

  She gritted her teeth. Heart racing. She didn’t know what they were here for. And she didn’t know what any of this meant.

  But there was only one way to find out.

  She kept walking.

  Kept walking until she was just metres away from them.

  One of the people from the helicopter lowered his rifle.

  He walked up to her.

  Stopped, right before her.

  His face was covered with a black mask.

  He didn’t say anything. Not at first.

  And as he stood there, rifle in hand, Aoife started to get cold feet. This wasn’t right. Something was wrong. Desperately wrong.

  And then out of nowhere, he lifted his mask and greeted her with a smiling face.

  “You’ll be safe now,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about a thing anymore.”

  Everything around Aoife disappeared into a blur. She barely processed anything. Just the happiness. Just the joy.

  Happiness and the joy as these people ushered her towards the helicopter.

  As they helped Kayleigh and Rex get on board.

  As they sat them down, offered them drinks, made them comfortable.

  And Aoife could only watch through tear-filled eyes as more helicopters filled with more people. More and more people being helped. More and more people being taken away. More and more people being saved.

  “Aoife,” Kayleigh said.

  Aoife looked at her, and she saw a smile on her face. Sh
e saw the old Kayleigh. Her old friend. Not the new, hardened, cynical woman she’d turned into.

  “Thank you,” Kayleigh said. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For making me remember there is hope.”

  Aoife reached over, held Kayleigh’s hand. Smiled, as the helicopter rose. Felt herself lifting higher. She looked outside at the darkness. At the ground below, getting further and further away.

  And as she sat there, looking down, holding Kayleigh’s hand, stroking Rex… she smiled.

  For the first time in a long, long time, she felt herself relax.

  She was going to be okay.

  Everything was going to be okay.

  This is where these stories usually end.

  Not this story.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Aoife knew her enemy was close.

  It was pitch black inside this dark, dusty room. There were scraps of old newspaper trailing across the creaky wooden floor. Outside, she swore she could hear a strong wind howling away, which made it sound like someone whispering, all the time. The room reeked of damp. Unlived in. A home once occupied by a family. Four walls that would hold all kinds of stories, all sorts of history. Four walls that were home to nothing but ghosts now. Memories.

  The windows were boarded up, but Aoife’s flickering torch strapped to the top of her rifle made it easier to see. Every now and then, as she made her way through this room towards the door at the other side, she swore she saw movement in the corner of her eyes.

  And it made sense. She knew the enemy was close. And she knew she had to be careful.

  Because it was just as likely they were watching her.

  She crept across these creaking floorboards. She’d seen someone run through that door up ahead; she was sure of it. Heard them when she got here, too. Heard the footsteps racing up the stairs. Heard the floorboards creaking louder. And heard that door swinging open, banging against the wall.

  And she knew there was no hiding when you went through that door. The options for escape were limited. The windows were boarded up. There were no stairs or doorways through there. It was a trap, an area you just didn’t want to wander into because once you did, it was already game over for you.

  But there was still plenty of damage someone could do from that room. And that’s something Aoife had to stay conscious of. Very, very aware of.

  She reached the door. Put her shaking hand on the handle. And she got a sudden anxious vision of someone opening that door from the other side. Swinging it open and attacking her before she got a chance to take them out.

  There were more risks here than there seemed at first sight.

  She held her breath. Tried to listen in there for some kind of movement, some kind of sound. Usually, you could hear your enemy in there. Scrambling around. Trying to find a way out. Then trying to find a place to hide.

  Then, trying to find the best place to attack from.

  That’s the part Aoife had to be careful of.

  She’d been in this room so many times herself that she knew exactly where all the best hiding places were. Exactly where someone would be waiting to strike.

  She took a deep breath, tightened her grip on the rifle, and then she lowered the handle and swung the door open.

  She stepped back. Hid behind the wall. Waited for gunfire.

  Nothing.

  She stood there a few seconds. Usually, they’d fire straight away the second that door opened. A panicked peppering of bullets.

  But the fact there was nothing here…

  That told Aoife she was dealing with someone who knew what they were doing.

  That she had to be even more careful.

  She shuffled closer to the doorway, being conscious not to step too much into the enemy’s line of sight.

  When she did, she saw the darkness.

  She saw the bed. Unmade. The teddy bear lying on the floor beside it, worn and spilling out its stuffed innards.

  She saw the pictures of the Disney princess on the wall, right above the bed.

  The little specks of rat shit on the floor.

  And she saw… well.

  Nothing.

  She stepped into the room. Took a look to her right, immediately.

  Then she stepped around the bed. Looked underneath.

  Nothing.

  Nobody there.

  She stood up, then. Looked over at those wardrobes on the opposite side of the room.

  That hunter’s instinct kicking in.

  If her enemy was nowhere else to be seen in here, then there was only one place they could be.

  She crept over to that wardrobe. Rifle raised. Flicked her torch out, made it sound like she was walking out of the room.

  She could wait. Because they’d come out of that wardrobe eventually.

  Or she could just fire at the wardrobe itself.

  But she wanted to see the look on their face when she shot them.

  She wanted them to know they were cornered.

  She walked up to the door. Slow as possible.

  Stood there a few seconds.

  “Your game’s up,” she said.

  And then she opened the wardrobe door.

  She went to fire right away when she stopped.

  The wardrobe was empty.

  There was nothing in there at all.

  Aoife frowned. “What…”

  A floorboard creaking to her right.

  The clicking of a rifle.

  “No,” the voice said. “Your game’s up.”

  Aoife swung around and saw the man pull the trigger before she had a chance to react.

  The ball flew towards her and splattered all over her face.

  “Goddamn it, Gregg,” she said, rubbing the burning paint from her eyes. “You really have to go for my face? Really? Fucking prick!”

  Gregg laughed relentlessly, dropping his paintball gun to the floor and planting his hands on his knees. “The look on your face. I mean, you were so confident. You really think I was just gonna wander in the bedroom of all rooms? Let you corner me? It’s your weakness, that place. You always think you’ve got the better of someone when you hear that door open. It’s your blind spot.”

  Aoife rubbed the stinging paint from her eyes even more. Bastard. He’d really gone and made a tit out of her. “I don’t have blind spots. At least I wouldn’t if you hadn’t shot me in the face.”

  Gregg laughed some more. Then he came over with a towel. “Let me help you with that.”

  He wiped her face softly, sensitively. Smirking away. Dickhead. She hated losing at paintballing. Especially to Gregg of all people.

  “There we go,” he said. “Now how about you treat me to lunch seeing as I won?”

  “You should be the one treating me to lunch after that shot,” Aoife said.

  “Either way,” Gregg said. “Want to grab lunch or not?”

  Aoife felt torn. She liked Gregg. He was nice. But there was still a reluctance there over truly connecting with someone romantically. She knew he was interested. He didn’t exactly make it subtle.

  But she preferred him as a friend, right now anyway. She just didn’t know how to avoid hurting him when he was obviously so keen—and so sweet.

  “I’ll pass on lunch,” she said. “But maybe we can… maybe another time?”

  Gregg smiled. Nodded. He never protested, never persisted. And that made him annoyingly even more likeable. “Another time sounds great. Now come on. You look like you could do with a good shower before you step foot out of this place. Lights!”

  Suddenly, the lights in the building all sparked to life.

  The coverings over the windows rose up, revealing the scorching sun outside.

  And outside, on the streets, Aoife saw people.

  People walking along the streets, hand in hand.

  People walking into shops, buying food and drinks.

  People with smiles on their faces.

  “Never gets old, does it?” Gregg said.

>   Aoife smiled. “Never.”

  This was her home.

  This was the new world.

  This was a world with power.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Aoife still had paint on her face when she met Kayleigh for lunch the following afternoon.

  It was a gorgeous summer’s day. They’d been lucky all spring and summer, actually. Blue skies. Warm air. The kind of day that would’ve been a nightmare back in that powerless world.

  But things were different now.

  They weren’t in a powerless world anymore.

  And they hadn’t been for a year now.

  Aoife walked down the street with Kayleigh by her side. Rex was back at home. Getting older, that dog, so a lazy sod these days. Preferred to just chill on the sofa in this heat than go anywhere with her. Used to be her shadow. Little traitor.

  As she walked down the street, she never got tired of just how amazing this community was. And just how much of a distant memory the days before—or rather the days between power—actually were.

  Twelve months ago, Aoife and Kayleigh stood on the brink of something they didn’t understand. Battered. Bruised. Broken.

  But then they’d found themselves looking into the eyes of a man who promised them a new home. A new home that began with a helicopter journey to the south of the country. A journey Aoife was nervous about. Because she’d been burned plenty of times by new groups in the past.

  But a journey that proved so, so worth it.

  A community had been set up on the south coast. It was months in the making and running for just about six months. Small, initially, but expanding gradually.