She looked at him, studying him, biting her lower lip just a little bit, as if she was hoping against hope that the man she’d partnered up with wasn’t a complete fool.
“Right,” he said. “But what about other cars?”
“Other cars?”
“You noticed that a lot of vehicles don’t seem to be starting, right? From what I saw, some stopped dead in the road, and others wouldn’t start.... maybe depending on the level of electronics in the engine...”
She was biting her lip a little less now. He was proving that he was not only willing to do some real physical work, but that his mind wasn’t too shabby. She was looking more pleased.
“So we’ll siphon gas from the dead cars, right?” she said.
He shrugged. “It’s an idea. But it’s an idea everyone else is going to have ... and I can see a lot of conflicts developing over this ... fighting over gas.”
“Yeah,” she said. “So better to save the gas for driving. For right now at least. It’s not very efficient to heat ourselves by running the engine.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Definitely not. So I think you’re right. If we’re going to be rationing food, we’re going to be less tolerant to the cold than usual ...we’re probably not going to make it through the night in these sleeping bags.... so that leaves either making a fire, or...”
“Or breaking into a house,” she said.
“A house without heat?” he said.
She shook her head. “Some heat systems might work ... depends on the fuel source, right?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Depends how it works.”
“There are a lot of vacation houses around here. That’s one of the reasons my dad suggested coming up here. And a lot of those houses will have big fireplaces ... maybe even wood stoves, which are even more efficient at heating places.”
“So that really was your dad?”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry.... sorry for your loss.”
She shrugged and looked away, biting her lip now for a totally different reason. It looked as if she was fighting back tears.
“Anyway,” he said, charging ahead through the conversation. “A house isn’t a bad idea ... but we’ll need to defend it ... it might be more of a target than a truck out in the middle of nowhere.”
“I thought about that,” she said, managing to fight through it all, her eyes just a little moist, as she struggled to get the words out. “But a lot of those houses are pretty well built ... a lot of them probably rely on security systems which obviously won’t work now.”
“It’ll actually be to our benefit, since we’re breaking in ourselves.”
“Right. But some of them, if I remember right, might be okay to defend.”
“In what way?”
“Just the way they’re built. Not too many low windows ... strategic locations on hillsides ... sturdy doors, things like that.”
“Keep in mind we’ll have to get in there ourselves.”
“We’ll manage. You wouldn’t believe how many people leave a spare key outside in some obscenely obvious location... I should know; I used to do a lot of house-sitting at one point.”
He nodded.
“Well,” she said. “No point in wasting any more time. Let’s head out. I’m freezing anyway. With the engine on, at least we’ll warm up on the drive.”
He nodded.
Her hand fumbled around, looking for the keys. She grabbed them, but dropped them, and had to try to pick them up again.
“What’s wrong?”
“My hands are so cold I can barely hold them.”
“I’m afraid I’m not much help,” he said, holding up his own hand, which, aside from being so cold that it was mostly numb, was black and blue from getting beaten.
His hands didn’t elicit much sympathy from her. She just shrugged and tried again with the keys.
This time, she got it, and the engine thankfully cranked to life.
“Well,” she said, shifting the truck into gear. “Here’s goes nothing, I guess.”
“You think we might not make it?”
“There’s a good chance of that,” she said, hitting the gas with some impatience, sending the truck rocketing backward out of its hiding space.
They were leaving the hidden, protected area where they couldn’t stay. They were heading out into the world where they had to be.
But at what cost?
Could they really survive in a world that had fallen, in the blink of an eye, hundreds of years into the past? Modern people weren’t prepared for a life without conveniences. And they weren’t prepared for a life of violence, but James knew that they would quickly adapt. People would do what they deemed necessary to keep alive, and to keep their families alive. They’d fight, and they’d have no hesitation about fighting.
“How much food do you have?” said James, going over a mental checklist as the truck bounced down the dirt road through the leafless trees.
“Not a lot,” she said. “Some canned stuff. Frozen food from my dad’s house. Mostly red meat, since that’s what he ate.”
“Good for the cold,” remarked James.
“Yeah,” she said. “We’re going to be low on carbs ... not a lot of those, and sometimes that’s what keeps you warm.”
“I thought just protein and fat would be enough?’
She shook her head. “I took a class on this at the community college once. Anatomy and physiology. Carbohydrate stimulates the conversion of thyroxine into triiodothyronine.”
“Huh?”
“Basically carbs make you warmer by producing more thyroid hormone.”
“Oh, you could have just said that.”
She sighed, annoyed. “Anyway,” she said. “Yes, I have some food. And you get half of it if you agree to work with me on getting more food. It’s not going to last us more than a week if we split it, even if we conserve it.”
“So why split it with me? It’d last you two weeks.”
“And then what?”
“Get more food, I guess.”
“That’s the point. It’s going to be hard. That’s where you come in. It’s better for me if I have you along ... our chances of survival go up. Our chances of getting more food go up.”
“Good old-fashioned teamwork,” he said, trying to make something of a lame joke. He forced out a laugh, but his chest and ribs hurt too much, so he stopped short, somewhat awkwardly.
She ignored the strange sound he’d made in place of a laugh, continuing to talk. “First thing is shelter,” she said. “Ideally shelter that comes with food ... weapons ... more gear ... things like that.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“That’s why we find the shelter first. Once we’re there, we’ll see what’s needed...”
“Then we go and get it.”
“You catch on quick,” she said with a practiced sarcasm.
“There’s one thing I think you’re overlooking,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“What about the people who own these big vacation houses we’re going to break into and claim as our own? Aren’t they going to have the same idea as us? Aren’t they going to want to head to their own houses?”
“That could be an issue,” she said. “But...”
“But what?”
“But I don’t think everyone who has that idea is going to make it there. We saw how things have deteriorated so far already.... there’s just the sheer violence.... then there’s going to be the transportation issue. We made it out pretty early ... others aren’t going to be so lucky, and the roads are only going to get more and more clogged up.”
“Makes sense,” he said. “I guess things are grim enough that...”
He didn’t finish his sentence, but she said, “Exactly,” before he could.
They drove in silence for a while, now that they were on a road.
It was a remote road, winding its way north through the trees, slowly climbing a li
ttle in elevation. The Berkshires weren’t much higher, as far as James knew. Maybe a couple thousand feet. Not like heading up into Colorado or New Mexico, but he’d certainly heard that up in the Berkshires, the weather could be wildly different.
“There’s a lot more snow up there, isn’t there?” he said. “Where we’re headed, I mean.”
She nodded, her eyes not leaving the road. “That’s right,” she said. “There might be a few feet of snow on the ground already for all I know.”
“I guess that’s good for us, right? Just another deterrent.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Provided we can make it.”
“Seems like a good truck,” said James. “I go American myself, but never saw anything wrong with these Toyotas.... I’m sure it’ll make it through a little snow.”
“The truck will definitely make it,” she said.
James thought that he detected a slight scowl coming over her face and he thought it better in the future to not say anything about her truck that could be interpreted as negativity.
“Yeah, I mean...”
But he didn’t really know what to say.
James was glad to know that she was protective of her truck, though. It meant she was more likely to have taken good care of it. More likely to have kept up with things like oil changes and regular maintenance. And that meant that the truck was more likely to keep working. More likely to run when they needed it to run. More likely to get them out of whatever the next jam was they’d get themselves into.
And he was sure there’d be more problems. More dangerous situations. More dangerous, violent individuals.
They’d have to fight. They’d have to fight hard.
And it wouldn’t just be a simple matter of physical combat, gun battles, that kind of thing. Sure, those would be involved. They’d be necessary, even. But there’d be more than that. There’d be the freezing cold. There’d be the isolation. There’d be countless psychological obstacles. There’d be dark moments where only willpower would carry them through.
They chatted idly for a few minutes, theorizing on where they might be able to obtain food and what was the likelihood of finding an unoccupied house that would suit their needs. Then, as the Toyota truck continued down the road, they fell into a contemplative silence.
The doors were locked and there was no one around. The truck’s heat was on max, which was a welcome change to the bone-chilling cold of the previous hours. And if it was possible in Western Mass, the sun seemed to actually be peeking through the dense clouds. James knew from experience that this brief moment of sun wouldn’t last long, but for now he enjoyed the sensation of extra warmth on his face.
James didn’t dare to close his eyes, knowing that danger might still lurk around every corner. But he did let his attention drift, and his eyelids felt heavy.
His thoughts were scattered. He wondered what had happened to his truck. He wondered about his family and if they were facing similar problems in Florida. He wondered about his new companion, whose name, if he’d gotten it at all, he for some reason couldn’t recall at the moment. Had he even given his name? It was a strange situation, but things could have been stranger. And they could have been a lot worse.
James was glad he was alive. And he was well aware that it could have all gone much differently. Of course, if he’d been killed, he wouldn’t have known it, except for a brief instance when he’d have been staring death in the face, unable to look away.
It was a weird thought, that if he died, he’d barely be aware of it. And in a way, it made him feel better about the whole thing. Sure, he’d fight to stay alive with every ounce of energy he had. His body may have been battered and nearly destroyed, but it was still intact. In time, it would heal, and he’d be as strong as before. He knew he had what it took to fight. It was just one of those things. You either had it or you didn’t. And, for what it was worth, he knew that his companion, sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, had it too.
They’d make it.
Or at least they’d die trying.
Thank you for reading Fight the Darkness.
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Turn the page to read the summary for Getting Out, book 1 in my 8 book Post Apocalyptic series.
Do you have what it takes to survive?
The EMP hits. The lights go out and silence roars. Society is on the brink of violent chaos. The only way to survive is to get out, away from the cities and into the wilderness.
Max is an office worker with some gear and a plan. He's one of the first to realize the unspoken dangers. A few years ago, he inherited an old farmhouse. His plan is to get to it as fast as possible and bunker down. He thinks he's ready, but he quickly discovers that there's more to surviving than just having the right gear.
Mandy is a waitress with the day off work. What seems like a normal power outage quickly turns terrifying. Her peaceful town is no longer the home she once knew. She's offered a way out, but can she put her trust in a perfect stranger?
Georgia is a single mother who just wants to keep her two teenage kids safe. She drives a pickup and loves hunting. She has skills that could keep her family alive, but is she ready to make life or death decisions in the blink of an eye?
Do Max, Mandy, and Georgia have what it takes to overcome the unexpected? After all, even the best-laid plans can come up short.
Getting Out is book 1 of The EMP, a post-apocalyptic survival thriller series. It deals with real people fighting for their survival every inch of the way.
About Ryan Westfield
Ryan Westfield is an author of post-apocalyptic survival thrillers. He’s always had an interest in “being prepared,” and spends time wondering what that really means. When he’s not writing and reading, he enjoys being outdoors.
Contact Ryan at [email protected]
Also by Ryan Westfield
Getting Out (The EMP, book 1)
Staying Alive (The EMP, book 2)
Pushing On (The EMP, book 3)
Surviving Chaos (The EMP, book 4)
Fighting Rough (The EMP, book 5)
Defending Camp (The EMP, book 6)
Getting Home (The EMP, book 7)
Finding Shelter (The EMP, book 8)
Final Chaos (Surviving, book 1)
Final Panic (Surviving, book 2)
Final Dread (Surviving, book 3)
Escape the Virus (Last Pandemic, book 1)
Escape the City (Last Pandemic, book 2)
Escape the Chaos (Last Pandemic, book 3)
Constant Danger (Book 1): Fight The Darkness Page 22
