The World After (Book 3)

by Ryan Casey

  And he had definitely seen something.

  She looked back up at them and watched them as they flew over. She didn’t know where they were from, only that there were a lot of them, and whenever there were a lot of helicopters it usually meant some kind of army. The army scared Holly a bit. Especially after what those army people had done when they’d first run into them—told them to go away from the barracks because there was no safety for them there.

  Holly wanted to believe there were good army people out there. But she was still scared.

  And then she realised where the helicopters were heading.

  They were heading north. And Carlisle was north. So maybe… maybe all that stuff she’d heard about the extraction point was real. Maybe it was true all along, and there was a place up north where people were being taken away. Maybe the electricity really hadn’t gone out all over the world, and there was someone nice with people and video games and television and… just the thought of all these things made her feel warm.

  But she couldn’t feel warm right now. She couldn’t let herself be weak.

  She knew what she had to do.

  She had to head in the direction of these helicopters. She couldn’t get too excited because she’d seen what happened when she got too excited in the past. Things didn’t work out. Bad things happened. To her. To the people around her.

  “Not again,” she said. “Not again.”

  Then, she pushed herself to her feet. Because as hard as this was and as low on energy as she was, now wasn’t the time for her to give up. She knew what she had to do. She knew what Scott and everyone who’d ever been around her would want her to do right now.

  They’d want her to fight.

  So that’s exactly what she was going to do.

  She looked at Lionel and she smiled.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go find our new home.”

  Then, with Lionel by her side, she walked.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  B looked at the spot where Scott had lain just moments ago and he felt his mask of composure start to slip.

  He was holding onto his belly, which was still bleeding. But the cut wasn’t as deep as first feared. The girl had ploughed that knife into him, make no mistake about it. But it wasn’t enough to put him down for good. It was just a flesh wound, and one he could handle with a few stitches.

  For now.

  And he had to handle it.

  He had to.

  Because he had been defied.

  He lifted his head and saw F looking at him; saw the rest of the children looking at him, waiting for his call. And as he stood there, he realised what a farce all of this was. The masks. Brainwashing the kids. It was just a fantasy. A fantasy world that he’d been trying his best to maintain. But now he’d seen there really was a real world out there, as he’d watched the helicopters fly overhead, and he’d felt a strange… well. A longing for it.

  Because as fun as this reality was, it was temporary. It was strained, being pulled at from either side.

  And he could feel his mask of insanity starting to slip.

  So he did something he hadn’t done in front of his own people for a long time.

  He tore his mask away.

  He saw the way his people looked at him. Some with fear. Some with delayed surprise. But this was the reality now. There was no more of this stealthy shit. There was no more of any of it.

  He’d been attacked. Not only that, but he’d been made a fool of—in front of his own people, nonetheless.

  And not just that…

  “Someone let them leave,” he said.

  His voice sounded alien to him. Of course, he’d spoken over the last few months. But his group and he had decided to reserve speech for only essential communication. It increased their illusion of mysticism. Made them appear even more crazy to the outside world.

  And appearing crazy just increased people’s fears about them.

  “So who was it?” he asked. “Parker. Was it you?”

  “We aren’t to speak our normal names—”

  “Oh fuck that,” he said. “Fuck all of it. I’m Brian Harrison. You’re Michael Parker. You’re Scott Baseman. Take off your fucking masks right this second. I want to look each and every one of you in the eye.”

  They did. Slowly. And when they did, it seemed like their very mask of armour was being chipped away at. They’d worked so hard to make themselves into these ominous figures to be feared by all. It wasn’t going to be easy for them to shake that with the click of a finger.

  But they had to. Because shit had gone down.

  And someone had betrayed them. Brian was certain of it.

  “Look me in the eye, each of you, and tell me you didn’t just see Scott crawl out of here.”

  He looked at Parker, at Scott, and Serge and at Simone. He saw the way they looked back at him, fearful and dumbstruck.

  “We—we were watching the helicopters,” Serge said, speaking for the first time in God-knows-how-long. “Just like you.”

  Brian square up to Serge. He looked him right in the eyes. “I remember how resistant you were, when you first joined us. I remember how reluctant you were to punish our enemies. I thought you’d changed. But maybe you haven’t changed all that much after all.”

  “No,” Serge said, shaking his head. “I didn’t see him getting away. I didn’t see a thing. I swear. Please.”

  Brian lifted his knife and he pressed it to Serge’s neck. He wasn’t sure what to believe. But he was sure that he had to punish somebody. He had to make somebody pay. He ruled by fear, and punishment was a part of fear.

  But what if he didn’t have to rule anymore?

  What if he just made his way to that place where the helicopters were heading and together, they got out of here?

  Still, they had a journey to take. So punishment needed to be doled out.

  “On your knees,” he said.

  Serge shook his head. “Don’t do this. Please don’t—”

  “Or standing. Either will do.”

  Brian pulled back his knife.

  “It was me.”

  He heard the light voice and he stopped. He hadn’t heard that voice before. He wasn’t sure who it came from. Definitely not one of his people.

  But…

  No.

  It couldn’t be.

  He turned around slowly and he saw young Michael staring up at him, defiance in his usually so empty eyes.

  He stared up at Brian, shoulders back, chest puffed out.

  “I let the girl and the dog get away. And I let the man get away. Because what we were doing to them was wrong. And I’ll never do anything for you again. None of us will.”

  Brian felt his anger building up. He wanted to swat this little shit right down. Because as much as his people might turn on him, nobody would take his children from him. No one would make them turn on him.

  But he saw the rest of them. All of them, awakening, as if they’d had the curtains pulled back. He saw them raising their knives, pointing them at him.

  He saw it, and he felt everything falling apart.

  He smiled. Laughed, nervously. “You’re—you’re the children of the new world.”

  “We don’t want your new world,” Ginger Martin said. “We want our old world.”

  “But there is no old world. Not anymore.”

  The children didn’t say anything. Not at first.

  And then they all looked at one another, and Michael stared back at Brian. “Not for you there isn’t.”

  Brian thought they were going to attack him. He half-expected them to stab him right here and finish him and his people off.

  But they didn’t.

  Instead, they turned around, and they ran.

  He wanted to go after them. He wanted to bring them back. Because they were his children, and they followed his lead.

  But he was too frozen to the spot to do a thing.

  He was too wounded to react.

  It was a wh
ile before somebody spoke. That somebody was Parker.

  “What do you want us to do, boss?”

  Brian felt a bitter taste cover his lips as he looked down at his Venetian mask, discarded on the road.

  “We’re going to go after Scott and Holly. We’re going to go after their mutt of a dog. And we’re going to kill them before they have a chance to get to those helicopters. We’re going to make those bastards suffer.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Holly was tired and she was scared and she didn’t know how much further she could go.

  She’d been walking for a long time. It was mid-afternoon now, but she wasn’t sure how many days it was since her walk started. Her legs were moving in front of her like they were out of her control, like someone was moving them for her. If she tried to stop, she knew what would happen. She’d fall down. She was too out of energy to do anything. She was too weak to do anything.

  And she was lost.

  She looked at the road ahead. It was a motorway, and it was filled with empty, abandoned cars. Everyone she passed by, she looked for some kind of food or water inside. But of course it was too late for that. The cars that had things inside had been raided already. She’d be safer off the road.

  But she just wanted to get to Carlisle.

  She just wanted to get to where she needed to go because she didn’t think she had long left.

  She looked at Lionel. He was panting. His head was down. He didn’t look as excited as normal. He looked weak, too, like if she cuddled him, his bony body would just crumble up under her grip.

  So she didn’t cuddle him, as much as she wanted to. She didn’t want to hurt him. She loved him, and he was the only thing she had left.

  She looked up at the signs above, but it was getting harder to read them. She didn’t know why, but she had a bad headache. Whenever she tried to focus on something, she just felt her head hurt really badly.

  But from what she could see on the signs, there was no mention of Carlisle. Which either meant she was going the wrong way or that she’d passed it already or… she didn’t know. She couldn’t be sure.

  She just knew that her time was running out.

  She kept on ploughing on though because she knew that if she gave up, it would be over. Everything would be over. And there was still hope. As long as she could walk, there would still be hope.

  Scott had told her to be brave.

  Her mum and dad and brother would’ve told her to be brave.

  So she was being brave.

  She was going to make it.

  She was—

  She fell over and yelped. She felt like she’d stepped in something sharp, right at the bottom of her foot.

  But when she looked, she realised there was nothing there. And that’s when she worried. Because the pain in her foot was so bad, and it was spreading right up her leg. This was a bad sign, and she knew it.

  She tried to stand, but she couldn’t.

  She tried to crawl, but the pain had spread to her hands now, and then to her arms.

  She looked at Lionel as he stood there, ears raised, trying to figure out what to do, trying to understand.

  “Help me,” Holly said.

  Lionel didn’t, and couldn’t, do a thing.

  “Help me!” she shouted.

  Lionel jumped back in horror and Holly felt guilty right away. She started crying. She’d lost him now too. She was losing herself and she wasn’t even going to have Lionel beside her when the time came to—

  She felt a warmth, right beside her.

  Lionel was lying by her side.

  She curled up to him. Not too hard, because she didn’t want to hurt him.

  But as she lay there, and as he lay there too, she cried. She heard him cry. And she knew that they were going to be together no matter what.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re a good dog. You’re a good dog.”

  And as they held one another and the pain spread further across Holly’s body, she gave up on any thoughts of getting out of this situation. She gave up any hopes of ever even standing up again.

  Because she couldn’t.

  “I’ve tried,” she said, as she closed her eyes and held on to Lionel. “Just… just know I’ve tried.”

  She held him tighter.

  She let herself give up.

  Then, sometime later, from out of nowhere, she heard the voice.

  “Holly?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  When I saw Holly lying by the side of the car, Lionel by her side, I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

  I stumbled over to her. I was weak, no doubt about that. My head stung after my beating. My entire body felt like it had been put through hell. Which in a way, it had.

  I was lucky I’d made it this far at all.

  But I’d kept on pushing on, as fast as I could. I’d kept on heading in the direction the young boy told me he’d signalled Holly to go.

  I’d headed in the direction that the helicopters had gone in, towards that mythical extraction point.

  And I’d made the right call.

  Because Holly was here.

  Lionel was here.

  Only neither of them looked well at all.

  Holly had thick dark circles around her eyes. She was lying there, totally pale, even more malnourished than I remembered.

  And it was the sight of Lionel that got to me too. He was usually so bouncy. He was usually so happy to see me.

  But right now, upon sight of me, all he could do was lightly wag his tail, like he was delighted to see me but just couldn’t muster up the energy to greet me properly.

  I limped over to Holly and crouched by her side. I wiped the hair from her face, and I looked down into her eyes as they stared up at me, almost in disbelief that she could see me at all.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m here. I’m here.”

  “I—I thought you were—” She was crying. She didn’t sound in a good state.

  “Ssh,” I said. And I hugged her tight, while stroking Lionel at the same time. Because all my reluctance about bonding and connecting with people close to me was gone, now. All of my hesitation to form those special bonds had disappeared, and it had been replaced by a total warmth.

  We might’ve been in the snow. We might’ve been freezing.

  But as long as we were together, the three of us, that warmth would prevail.

  It was stronger than anything else.

  I leaned back from Holly, who was crying even more now.

  “My legs,” she said. “They—they aren’t moving.”

  I looked down at Holly’s legs. I could see they were moving, her feet circling. She must’ve lost some of the sense of touch in them. Poor girl. Didn’t surprise me after how far she’d walked.

  “They’re okay,” I said.

  “They—they’re not. They—”

  “Ssh,” I said. “It’s okay. Look. Just look.”

  She lowered her head, still clearly sceptical about what I was saying.

  When she looked, she saw it.

  “They’re moving, see?” I said.

  “But… but I can’t feel them.”

  “You don’t have to. You just…”

  I was going to tell her that she just had to put one foot in from of the other. That she just had to take every single step as it came, one after the last.

  But I didn’t tell her that.

  “Come on,” I said, leaning towards her.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to carry you.”

  She pushed back a little, just lightly. “But you look hurt too.”

  It was sweet of her, to be concerned for me like this. But I saw the value of our bond now. I saw the power of what we had, and how far that power was going to take us. “I’ll be more hurt if I know you’re walking through pain. So come on. Let me lift you up. Then we need to carry on before anyone catc
hes up with us.”

  I picked Holly up, put her on my shoulders. It wasn’t comfortable. She wasn’t heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but the extra weight still wasn’t easy to take after I’d had literally every part of my body kicked and punched at.

  But it was just something I’d have to deal with.

  I looked down at Lionel as Holly held onto me.

  “Don’t look at me like that, lad,” I said. “I can only carry one of you.”

  He lowered his head, like he was disappointed.

  But at least he was on his feet.

  At least he was ready for the final stretch of our journey.

  I took a deep breath and looked ahead at the road leading to Carlisle; to the place where we’d seen the helicopters heading.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s finish this.”

  I took my first step, and the final push began.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  We walked for two more days and I wasn’t sure how much fuel any of us had left in the tank.

  It was a beautiful morning. We’d been walking all through the night, stopping occasionally to rest our feet. But resting brought its own problems. It made me realise just how weak I was, and just how much I was running on adrenaline more than anything. Standing up and walking after just a few seconds time out was getting harder and harder, so we decided to just walk on as much as we could.

  I’d carried Holly for as long as I could, but that had got more difficult a few miles back. She’d got back to her feet, and she’d struggled at first, but she seemed to be doing okay now. Lionel seemed to be having a new burst of life, too. He was slim and underfed, but he seemed to be making the most of the melting snow all around, clocking on that it meant water and hydration for him.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. We’d long ago given up our search for food. Melting snow provided us with enough water every now and then, though. So the only thing that mattered at all now was getting to Carlisle and getting to those helicopters.

  It was cold. We were sore. Broken. Bruised. But nothing was getting in our way. Not anymore.

  “What if the helicopters are gone?” Holly asked.