After the Darkness: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Survive the Darkness Book 5)

by Ryan Casey

  And upon hearing the shouts behind her, the whistles, the footsteps… she knew exactly why.

  She had to get up. And she had to run.

  Because this woman, this familiar stranger, whoever she was, was right.

  She’d saved Rex’s life.

  She’d saved Aoife’s life.

  She could trust her way more than she could trust Robert’s people, whoever the hell they were.

  She stood up, grabbed her knife, and she ran.

  The woman was just up ahead. No matter how quick Aoife ran, she couldn’t quite reach this woman. She was quicker than her. Which bugged her, in a way. Really awoke that competitive side deep within her, even though now was absolutely the worst possible time to be competitive. Totally inappropriate, that was for sure.

  She started to wonder whether this woman was a figment of her imagination. A woman appearing out of nowhere and saving her and Rex? A woman who seemed weirdly familiar? And who knew Aoife’s name?

  It seemed… unlikely, to say the least.

  But here she was. Running from Robert’s maniacs, whoever they were. This woman right in front of her, just out of sight. Almost like a spectre. Like a ghost.

  “Come on, Rex. We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

  She ran further and further as those voices approached, as those shouts picked up, and then she saw someone right ahead.

  A man stepping out.

  Running towards that woman up ahead.

  Knife raised.

  Aoife didn’t hesitate.

  She kept on running.

  Running, as this man raised his knife.

  Running, as the woman spun around, then tumbled over.

  And then she knocked the man over, doing her best attempt at a rugby tackle, too.

  The man hit the floor.

  Swung the knife up towards Aoife’s face.

  Scratched her just a little.

  “I don’t think so,” she said, punching him. Hard. Repeatedly.

  He reached for his face to cover it. Knife still in hand.

  And then she stopped.

  Grabbed that knife.

  Yanked it away from him.

  Lifted it.

  Saw him lying there, hands raised. Tears and blood on his face.

  “Please,” he said. “Don’t—”

  But now wasn’t the time for showing pity.

  Aoife buried the blade in his neck.

  She stood up. Knowing full well there would be consequences for her actions. She’d learned a thing or two about the power of vengeance in the past.

  But now wasn’t a time for thinking about repercussions.

  Now was a time for survival.

  “Thanks,” the woman said.

  Aoife looked up. Saw the woman standing there. Still shrouded in darkness.

  “I guess that makes it one-all on the life-saving front, right?” the woman said.

  “Who are…” Aoife started.

  But she didn’t get to finish.

  Because the woman took off again.

  “Jesus,” Aoife said. “It’s like speaking with frigging Roadrunner.”

  She followed the woman off into the darkness. The voices behind were getting further away. Sounded like their pursuit was slowing now. Which was something. Gave them some breathing space, at least.

  They kept going through the field, then into the woods, until eventually, they reached a little log cabin in the middle of nowhere.

  “It’s not much,” the woman said, opening the door, which almost collapsed off upon movement. “But it’s just for me, and it’s not for impressing any guests. You coming in?”

  Aoife stood there. Staring at this woman. Her face still shrouded by darkness.

  “Who are you?” Aoife said.

  The woman laughed a little.

  Then she walked towards Aoife.

  Walked into the moonlight.

  “Hello, stranger,” she said. “How’s things?”

  Aoife could barely believe who she was looking at. It took a few moments to truly register it was her.

  But when it clicked, it clicked hard.

  The last time she’d seen this woman?

  The night of the blackout.

  In the nightclub.

  The woman who’d got her to go out in the first place.

  Less make-up now, of course. And a natural ginger colour to her hair rather than the bleach blonde of the past.

  But it was her.

  It was undeniably her.

  Her housemate.

  Her friend.

  “Kayleigh?” Aoife said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Eighteen months ago…

  Kayleigh stared over at the nightclub doors and watched Aoife disappear, and she couldn’t even put into words how pissed with her she was.

  It’d been a great night so far. Booming music, shaking the walls. Smell of cheap booze. Kayleigh always loved a good night out. Especially New Year. And especially after they hadn’t been able to celebrate New Year properly last year, ’cause of all the COVID crap.

  But things were back to normal now. A few masks in some places and rumours of local lockdowns on the news. But nothing to worry about.

  Because they were here. They were here now, and everything was okay.

  Only…

  She watched Aoife leave, and she felt irritated. She’d tried to set her up with some guy, Harry, or something. He seemed alright. Like, typical guy you meet on a night out, really. Thought he was God’s gift. Couldn’t be further from the truth—but hey, he’d do. Aoife needed something to help her get over Jason, that noncey creepy of an ex of hers. And if that distraction came in the form of a decent-looking bloke on New Year’s Eve, then Kayleigh could think of worse situations to find herself in.

  But there was something else about Aoife. Something about her that Kayleigh had to admit… she kind of liked.

  Even though Aoife was well and truly out of bounds. She was straight, for one. Always a bit of a metaphorical boner kill. And she was older than her. A bit frumpy, a bit too settled these days.

  And still… Kayleigh couldn’t help feeling this weird attraction to her.

  And that’s the main reason she felt annoyed at her leaving right now.

  She stood up. A little dizzy and drunk. The other girls were all chatting to some guy or other. And as much as Kayleigh could put on a front and pretend she was having just as much fun as everyone else… it was Aoife she thought of.

  She felt bad. For trying to set her up like that. Obviously, it hadn’t gone well.

  She felt guilty for putting her in that position.

  She waited for God knows how long in this club, not really enjoying herself, thinking of her ex, Daniel, and how much she wanted to distract herself from him… and she sighed.

  It was almost midnight. She wanted to find Aoife.

  She wanted to tell her everything.

  She got up and walked past the bar. The bloke she’d tried to set Aoife up with, Harry, looked like he’d left already.

  She walked towards the door, out into the streets, which were already busying up for the big lights switch on. Saw a bouncer standing there in the distance, looking especially grumpy. Really looked like he didn’t want to be here. Max, his name tag read. Poor Max. Bouncers were never exactly the cheeriest looking chaps, but this bloke took the biscuit. She wondered what his story was.

  She walked down the street in search of Aoife. She had no idea where she’d headed, but she had to assume she’d gone to catch a bus back to the house they shared. There were still a few buses running at this time, and if Kayleigh were quick enough, she’d be able to catch up with her.

  But the streets were busy. The smell of sweat, strong in the air. The sound of music and laughter. Blokes wandering around with plastic pint cups in hand, like they were on a mission to be both the noisiest, the loudest, and generally the biggest dicks of the lot.

  She pushed past more of this crowd. Felt someone grab her arse
, something she’d usually stand up for herself for. What gave them the right?

  But right now, she was in such a rush that she didn’t even think.

  Just kept on going.

  Kept on pushing down this road.

  Trying to get out.

  She reached the middle of the street when she saw the countdown was starting. And as much as she knew she had to go home, that she had to go after Aoife… she knew she couldn’t miss this opportunity. She’d waited ages for this. And she wasn’t going to let Aoife’s mood swings get in the way of that.

  She stared up at the stage. Stared at the minor celebrity off some soap or other holding a microphone. Saw the stage being peppered with plastic cups. Saw the lights above.

  The lights, all ready to switch on.

  She listened to the time count down.

  Listened to every second, and for a moment, she felt at peace in this group.

  She felt the connection.

  She felt happiness.

  But something was missing.

  Someone was missing.

  And she knew exactly who that was.

  She went to turn around and head down the street again, so she could get a head start on the crowd getting out of here, when she saw a momentary flash of light.

  Heard a bang.

  Screams.

  And then, darkness.

  Kayleigh didn’t know it yet. But that was the moment everything changed.

  She stood outside the cabin she called home and saw Aoife’s eyes widen.

  “Kayleigh?” Aoife said.

  “Hello, you,” Kayleigh said. “Long time no see.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Aoife sat in the living area of Kayleigh’s place and wondered if this was all some kind of weird, bizarre dream.

  It was getting lighter outside. This endless night, finally coming to an end, even though it felt like it never would. But Kayleigh, who sat there on a dusty wooden chair at the other side of the room, was still shrouded in darkness. Aoife hadn’t got a proper look at her face since they’d run into each other again, other than that definitive moment where she finally stepped forward, revealed herself. Even though Kayleigh had stitched up her wound. Not making eye contact, not once. Not for small talk or conversation, no matter how much Aoife tried.

  She was clearly not the Kayleigh Aoife remembered.

  And there was still something completely bizarre about all this. Not to be disrespectful, but… well, Kayleigh? Really? She hardly seemed “survivor” material, that was for sure. She was young and ditzy and simply imagining her stripped away from her phone, from social media, from all her luxuries and comforts.

  Seeing her here, in this dark little log cabin, barely even hospitable enough to be called a home… it was just so jarring.

  But then it was immediately clear that this wasn’t the Kayleigh of eighteen months ago, either.

  Aoife didn’t know what to say. Sitting there, Rex on the damp wooden floor between them. There was a distinct smell of mould to the air. In fact, the air itself felt damp, so much so that Aoife was convinced it wasn’t healthy inhaling. It felt like they were in a box in the middle of nowhere. And she guessed they were, in a way.

  But it was Kayleigh, sitting there, so quiet, that seemed like the most jarring element in this entire scene.

  “Nice place you’ve found yourself,” Aoife said. Trying to break the ice. So many things she wanted to ask. Like how she’d escaped. How she’d survived. If she knew what happened to the rest of their old house share.

  But it felt like there was a wall between them. A wall stopping her asking these questions.

  “It’s functional. Nobody’ll come here. Nobody’ll want to search a place like this. It’s the way I have everywhere I stay.”

  “That kind of makes sense.”

  “It makes total sense,” Kayleigh said. Aoife saw her nails, then, that she was picking at. Kayleigh used to always have long, false nails. Now, they were just stubs on the end of her fingers.

  And there was this strange edge to her, too. Aoife wasn’t sure why she was surprised. She was different herself. She’d changed. Everyone had changed. They’d had to change to survive.

  But it was still a weird… adjustment. Seeing Kayleigh like this. Knowing they’d both have stories to tell. That they’d have secrets to keep.

  An unspoken bond between them.

  “It’s good to see you,” Aoife said.

  “It’s a good job I did see you. Wandering off after Robert’s people without a care in the world. You got a death wish or something?”

  Again, that snappiness surprised Aoife. It wasn’t typical of Kayleigh. Or at least the Kayleigh she used to know. She could be a bitch; she could be stroppy when she didn’t get her own way. But this felt different. This felt like it had more of an edge to it. “I appreciate it. Really. But like you said. I saved you too. So we’re even.”

  Kayleigh shrugged. “I guess so. But seriously. Robert’s people? You don’t just go walking after them. Not if you want to survive.”

  Aoife thought about Thomas. Still felt this strange sense of protectiveness, of not wanting to tell anyone else about him. But this was Kayleigh. And even if Kayleigh had changed… she was still that same woman, deep down. She was still that same girl Aoife used to share a house with.

  Right?

  “The crash,” Aoife said. “There… there was somebody on board. A survivor. Robert’s people. They took him.”

  Kayleigh shrugged. “Unlucky for him.”

  Aoife frowned. Somewhat surprised by Kayleigh’s nonchalance about the news of the survivor. “A helicopter, Kayleigh. Something with—with power. And a survivor. That’s why I was following them. We have to find out who he is. Where he comes from. We can’t just let someone like that slip away.”

  “You can do what you want,” Kayleigh said. “But believe me. If he’s with Robert’s people, it doesn’t matter if he’s the Queen or the Pope. It doesn’t matter if he’s Jesus himself. He’s done for. So just… just let it go. It’ll be better for you in the long run. I need to sleep.”

  Kayleigh stood up. Turned around. Started walking towards an area at the back of this cabin, which Aoife realised was her bed. A flimsy mattress on the floor. Dirty quilt cover. What had Kayleigh been through? She used to be so materialistic. And so hopeful, too. So optimistic. What had happened to her to make her like this?

  She walked over towards the back of the room. “The sofa’s not the comfiest. But it’s probably the best spot. That, or where your dog is.”

  But Aoife wasn’t ready to just let her go.

  She wasn’t ready to just go to sleep, just like that.

  “Kayleigh,” Aoife said, standing.

  Kayleigh stopped. Like she sensed there was no getting away.

  “I… I haven’t seen you in over a year. I haven’t seen anyone I used to know in over a year. I run into you in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night after just seeing a frigging helicopter crash. And then—and then I get hunted down by some cult worshipping a bloke called Robert. And you… and you seem to know something about him. You seem to know something about his people.”

  Kayleigh stayed still. Looked into the darkness. “I’m just telling it you as it is, Aoife. If Robert’s got him, then it doesn’t matter who it is. It’s over for him.”

  “But how can you know that? How can you be sure?”

  “Because I… It doesn’t matter.”

  “It sounds like it matters—”

  “Look, Aoife,” Kayleigh said, suddenly turning around and facing her. “What happened in the past happened in the past. And as far as I’m concerned, it stays there. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I need some rest. I suggest you get some too.”

  Aoife wanted to ask Kayleigh so much more. She had so many questions she wanted answering. Their old housemates. And how she knew so much about Robert.

  But mostly… what had happened to her?

  Then she pi
ctured what she’d say if Kayleigh posed the same question to her. And she knew how uncomfortable she would be about answering.

  “Get some rest,” Kayleigh said as if reading her mind. Turning away. “And, um… It’s good to see you. Really.”

  She watched Kayleigh climb onto that dirty mattress on the floor.

  Watched her pull the torn sheets over herself.

  And she watched her close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

  “It’s really good to see you too,” Aoife whispered.

  But Kayleigh was already fast asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Robert stood on his balcony with a whisky in hand and stared out into the darkness.

  He enjoyed these winter nights. When insomnia first struck, it’d been hellish. What kind of life is a life where one is deprived of such a basic, human privilege as sleep? It’s not even supposed to be something you do. It’s a birthright. A condition you can’t resist; a condition you fall into, like death itself.

  But losing that apparent ability… that can wreak havoc with your body. With your mind. With the entire balance of your life.

  But nowadays, Robert had grown to enjoy his sleep deprivation, in a strange sort of way. He saw it as an opportunity to regroup. To think about the day that had just passed and think about how tomorrow might progress.

  Tonight—or this morning, rather—he had a lot to think about. A lot to digest. A lot to unpack.

  He sipped the whisky. Felt it burn his mouth and his throat. He didn’t really enjoy the taste of whisky. Far too strong for him. But it was one thing that calmed him and one thing that did guarantee a couple of hours of sleep.

  But somehow, Robert didn’t think he’d be sleeping at all tonight.

  The helicopter. The crash.

  And finding Thomas. The survivor. Fighting for his life. Struggling to cling on to consciousness.

  But a gift from above.

  He stood there, heart racing, looking out at the town below, and he couldn’t actually believe that’d happened. The story he’d told his people about a light falling from the sky. The prophecy he’d had them all believing in. And it’d happened. It’d actually happened. Just when the cracks were beginning to show. Just when the faith of so many people here was starting to reveal itself.