Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

  She felt like she had to do something. But she felt like there was nothing to do.

  She felt useless. Completely powerless.

  And it wasn’t because she was physically incapable.

  It was just fear holding her back.

  Fear. And nothing more. Just that cold sensation that seemed to twist her stomach and guts up into knots. And it felt like an icicle had penetrated her chest, where her heart and courage used to be.

  The body sensation seemed significant to her, as if she’d lost her courage, as if she’d lost what had made her her.

  Of course, she knew that the sensations were just the result of the hormones her body was pumping out as it attempted to deal with the intensity of the situation. Her body was flooding her with substances that kept her alert, that diverted energy away from the less “crucial” body parts, and that made her want to act.

  Fight or flight. That was what it was all about.

  She knew she wanted to flee. She wasn’t a good fighter.

  But she couldn’t flee without fighting. Not in this case.

  Aly was in the backseat of the RV. The same RV that Jessica, apparently underestimating the extent of her blindness, had crashed.

  Someone else was driving the RV now. It was the driver of the car that Jessica had crashed into and totaled.

  Somehow, the RV still ran.

  Not that it was running well.

  There were horrible noises coming from the engine, and from underneath the RV. Aly didn’t know how long the RV would keep going. It was shaking and vibrating like it never had before the crash.

  Something had to give.

  Rob, as far as Aly could tell, hadn’t moved a muscle since the crash. He was still in the passenger seat. The new driver probably thought Rob was dead. And for all Aly knew, Rob was dead.

  But she didn’t want to count her nightmares before they hatched. She’d have to worry about Rob once she figured out what the hell she was going to do.

  Aly ran through a mental list of the others.

  They’d left her husband back at the pharmacy.

  There was every chance in the world that he was dead. Or about to die. Or being tortured to death in some horrible manner. Or fighting for his life. Alone. They’d left him alone. Even if they couldn’t have helped him, they should have stayed.

  Aly’d never forgive herself for leaving her husband like that. His last moments would be horrible. And, most importantly, completely alone. Look what good it had done. They hadn’t saved themselves. Likely, Jim would die alone. And then Aly would die alone. And Jessica would die alone.

  And then they’d all be dead. Without even the satisfaction of having stuck it out together to the very end. They wouldn’t be looking each other in the eyes with some kind of deeper awareness. She wouldn’t be reaching out and touching Jim’s hand one last time before it was all over.

  No, it would all just end. And that’d be it.

  Did it really matter, though? Maybe she was looking at it the wrong way. Maybe the end had come long ago. Maybe the end wasn’t something that would come in five or ten minutes, whenever Aly got the courage to do something, to try to get out of this death trap of an RV. Maybe the end had come as soon as the power had gone out. Not really, of course. But in a sense, it was true. That moment the power had gone out, the moment the EMP had hit and the systems had all gone offline, their fates had been sealed.

  Aly’s mind shifted to Jessica, who was out there, somewhere, alone and apparently blind. Or almost blind.

  Who knew what would happen to her?

  What Aly did know was that it was all her own fault. Aly had watched as the new RV driver had simply opened the door and shoved Jessica’s limp body out of the RV before driving away.

  The only reason that Aly knew Jessica wasn’t dead was because she’d seen Jessica’s body make some kind of involuntarily automatic movement when she’d hit the ground. Dead people didn’t do that.

  But then again, just because Jessica had been alive then didn’t mean she was alive now. For all Aly knew, Jessica had suffered massive internal injuries during the crash and would bleed to death in the next few minutes, never waking up again.

  Aly’s mind had reached some kind of apex now of complete terror and anxiety.

  She’d always had anxiety before the EMP. It’d been a problem. Fairly often, too. But she’d been able to deal with it. She’d been able to fight through it.

  This was something new.

  This was something different.

  And Jim wasn’t there.

  He’d been there. All through the EMP. Since he’d rescued her from that dark hellhole of a prison.

  He’d always known what to do.

  He’d always had the answer.

  Now she was completely and utterly alone.

  With only one option.

  The RV was vibrating even more intensely now. From where Aly lay, hidden back behind the driver’s seat, pressed up against the upholstery, she could look up and out the windows, at the trees that passed by as the driver pushed the RV’s engine to the absolute limits of its capabilities.

  The noise from the engine was horrific. It seemed to pierce her ears. Her skull.

  Her brain felt as if it were on fire, just from that sound. She’d never heard anything like it.

  The highest pitched whine she could have imagined. Or even worse.

  Aside from that noise, and the chaos in her mind, Aly could almost imagine that everything was OK. After all, the trees that were rushing past looked normal. They stretched towards the sky as they always had. The EMP hadn’t changed them. And if the EMP had never happened, and Aly had happened to be driving down this very same road in a car, those trees would have looked exactly the same. Every little mark and every branch and every tree would have been no different, despite the violent chaos that was ripping human civilization apart from the core.

  Aly shook the thoughts out of her head. Literally.

  They were useless. They weren’t helping her survive.

  And if she wasn’t careful, she’d simply lose herself to her own mind, lost somewhere in fear and fantasy, as her mind desperately tried to escape the physical reality of the situation in any way it could.

  Aly tried to pull herself back to reality.

  Back to the present.

  She tried to trick herself. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter what Jim and Jessica were up to. It didn’t matter whether Rob was alive or dead.

  Sure, it mattered. But Aly couldn’t do anything right now about their situations. So, in a sense, their situations shouldn’t matter to her because she couldn’t change them. She just had to accept all the possibilities and ignore them all.

  She just had to act.

  She was going to do what Jim would have done.

  Take stock of the situation.

  Rob obviously wasn’t of any help. Better to just assume he was dead.

  Aly herself wasn’t hurt. She had no gun. She didn’t know where it was. Something had happened to it in one of the crashes.

  And she had no knife either.

  And no matter how desperately she moved her eyes around, she couldn’t spot anything resembling a weapon. No gun, no knife, no baseball bats or rope. Absolutely nothing.

  Nothing but her bare hands.

  And who was she up against?

  The driver didn’t appear to be especially dangerous or frightening. He wasn’t an obvious member of a biker gang. He wasn’t even obviously armed.

  But of course, his innocuous appearance was what frightened Aly so much.

  When she’d seen him get into the RV and so calmly deposit Jessica’s unconscious body onto the ground, he’d looked indistinguishable from a man who’d been commuting to work before the EMP.

  Unless Aly’s mind had been playing tricks on her, he’d been wearing slacks and a button-down shirt with a checkered pattern.

  His clothes hadn’t appeared wrinkled. Not in the least bit. In fact, she was almos
t positive that there’d been a crease running down the front of his khakis.

  His hair had been combed. Modern style with just a little bit of gel to keep it in place.

  It really made so little sense that Aly assumed she’d been hallucinating. Or partially hallucinating.

  How could someone still look like they were on their way to work, so long after the EMP?

  It was almost impossible.

  Aly herself looked nothing like her former self. She wore no makeup now, unless by mistake there were the remnants of something she’d applied weeks ago. Something that hadn’t washed off in the blood, sweat, tears. Not to mention water. Her clothes were torn and filthy. Above all else, she stunk. She stunk so badly, and she had for so long, that she wasn’t even aware of her own scent.

  But she knew she stunk.

  After all, she was the kind of filthy that you had to experience to understand.

  It wasn’t the kind of filthy that they showed in the movies, where the makeup artist had spent hours skillfully applying just the right amount of dirt, grime, and blood on the actors, keeping them looking screen-worthy yet rugged.

  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.