Surviving: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Westfield, Ryan

  No, she’d known that she’d go out violently. That was the way the world was now.

  But she’d at least thought that she’d go out fighting. Really fighting. Not just pulling the trigger on her gun and having nothing happen. She’d thought that she’d have taken out a couple of the other guys, that she’d really put up a good fight. Maybe such a good fight that someone, some survivor, would remember how fiercely she’d fought and how dangerous she’d been.

  Before the EMP, she’d always been an independent woman. She’d always taken care of herself. She’d always given people hell when they’d messed with her.

  In a way, maybe, it was fitting that she died alone, not knowing who her killer was. Away from her friends. Away from Jim and Aly and Rob. They’d helped her survive this long. After all, she may have been fine on her own before the EMP. But after it? No, she definitely needed friends. She needed a team.

  She hadn’t lasted long without a team. How long had it been? Half an hour since she’d woken up? Maybe not even that long. She didn’t know. Her mind still felt fuzzy.

  The seconds were passing now. Time was continuing. And it would continue without her. She’d be dead. Her friends would wonder what happened to her. If they survived themselves, that is.

  The seconds were turning into minutes.

  She wasn’t dead yet.

  Why not?

  “Nice weapon you have here,” said the voice again. It sounded farther away.

  Suddenly, upon hearing the voice, Jessica realized that the hands that had pinned her wrists down were gone. And the pressure on her abdomen was gone as well.

  Jessica instinctively tried to get up. As quickly as she could. But as she tried to stand, she fell over, somehow tripping on her own ankle.

  She fell right onto her face.

  It hurt.

  Felt like her nose was broken. Or had she broken it before? She couldn’t remember. Her mind was a mess, and she was only starting to realize it. Had she suffered a concussion?

  Probably.

  Blood on her lips. On her tongue. It wasn’t a foreign taste, but she still couldn’t remember if her nose had already been broken.

  Her body was exhausted.

  She lay there, face down, not moving.

  “Whoa, you took a real tumble there. Here, let me help you up.”

  It was that voice again. Definitely a woman’s voice. But it sounded younger this time.

  Jessica was too tired to raise her hand. And too distrustful. Her mind was just confused. Too confused.

  But the voice’s hand found Jessica’s hand on its own. It was a small hand. Soft skin. Not rough and weathered.

  Jessica wrapped her fingers around the hand. And she felt the hand start to pull her up.

  The flesh was delicate, but the force of the arm behind it was strong.

  Before she knew it, Jessica was on her feet.

  On her feet. But unsteady, swaying back and forth.

  “You look terrible,” said the voice. “Can you see anything?”

  “Barely,” mumbled Jessica, blood in her mouth.

  “Here, just a second. I’ve got a clean handkerchief here somewhere. I’ll get you cleaned up a little.”

  Just then, Jessica remembered that she probably had a knife. Or did she? Had something happened to it? Had she lost it?

  Well, she either had the knife or she didn’t. If she did, she could reach into her pocket, get the knife, and stab this woman who was right in front of her. Jessica may not have been able to see her clearly, but she knew she wasn’t far away. And she knew that this woman was busy trying to fish a handkerchief out of a pocket or a backpack.

  In front of her, all Jessica saw were dull shapes. It looked almost human. And almost animal-like. As if she were living in a strange dream, where nothing looked as it should have looked.

  Or if she couldn’t find the knife, she could use her hands. She may have been weak, but maybe she had the strength for one last attack, especially if it meant that she herself either lived or died.

  But it didn’t mean that, did it?

  This woman had been a threat.

  And now she wasn’t.

  What kind of threat tries to get a handkerchief for you?

  Plus, that woman’s voice, well, there was something to it. Something that she hadn’t heard in a while.

  Was it kindness?

  In this new world where all the rules had fallen to the wayside, where only the cruel and vicious seemed to survive, was it possible that a kind woman was out there? Ready to help a stranger clean her face? Especially a stranger who had just tried to shoot her.

  Jessica didn’t end up deciding. But in a way, she did, since she spent so long thinking it all over.

  “Here you go, finally found it. Now hold still. Try not to flinch too much. It might hurt. But you should see what your eyes look like. There’s all this dried blood... Just a little bit of water... should do the trick.”

  The woman’s voice kept sounding younger and younger. If Jessica had to guess now, she might figure the woman for being no more than twenty.

  Jessica felt the wet cloth on her face. Rubbing gently.

  It felt good. The water was cool. And the motion was soothing. It was the opposite of the violence she’d expected. The complete opposite.

  “Now this might hurt a little. I’m going to have to really rub on this to get the dried blood off... what happened to you, anyway?”

  “Long story,” mumbled Jessica. “But who are you?”

  “Maddy.”

  It wasn’t that painful. Just a little rubbing.

  “There, is that better?”

  Jessica blinked a few times. She rubbed her eyes with her hand.

  “I can see.”

  “I can’t believe you could at all before.”

  Jessica’s vision was by no means completely back. But it was better.

  Still, she could only see out of one eye.

  And the world was still blurry

  But without the dried blood that she hadn’t realized was there, the woman in front of her started to come into focus.

  The first thing that Jessica noticed was that she was pretty. She had long bright blonde hair that was tied behind her in a ponytail. And she had a face with features that in another time would have landed her a modeling contract, no questions asked. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-one or twenty-two.

  Maddy was now peering into Jessica’s eye. “I’m assuming you hit your head,” she was saying. “Your pupil is contracted. Just a tiny little dot. I think you’ve got a concussion.”

  “Must be why I feel so funny.”

  “Here, you’d better have some water. You might be dehydrated.”

  Jessica was still stunned by this complete stranger’s kindness.

  But she didn’t have long to be stunned by it.

  The roar of multiple motorcycles coming down the road was suddenly unmistakable.

  A frown of worry suddenly overtook Maddy’s pretty face.

  “Come on,” she said. “We’ve got to get to cover.”

  Maddy had a large camping backpack that she shouldered, yanking down on the straps.

  Jessica took a step forward, but she felt herself tottering. She was unsteady on her feet.

  “Here, take my hand,” said Maddy, extending her arm.

  Jessica looked down at it, and for a moment, the blurry vision faded in and then out again.

  Should she take the hand?

  After all, Maddy was a complete stranger.

  She seemed nice. But so did a lot of people.

  And Jessica was in no position to defend herself against an attack.

  She was helpless. And about to become completely dependent on someone else.

  This was hard for Jessica.

  After all, she’d always been independent.

  “Give me my gun back, and I’ll take your hand,” said Jessica.

  Maddy paused. A new look came over her face. It was hard to read. After all
, Jessica didn’t really know her, and it usually took her a while to learn how to accurately interpret new people’s facial expressions.

  Maddy took the gun out of somewhere.

  Now it was in her hand.

  For a second, a thought flashed across Jessica’s mind. That she’d upset Maddy. That she shouldn’t have spoken like that. And that Maddy was going to shoot her.

  But Maddy just flashed a smile and handed the gun back to Jessica. “You’ve got a trustworthy face,” she said. “Come on. We’ve got to get out of here. Those bikers have been terrorizing this area for the last week.”

  And with that, the two of them rushed off towards the trees, Jessica following now a couple paces behind, trying not to glance over her shoulder too often.

  9

  Aly

  Aly kept waiting for the crash. For the RV to smash into something. For the wheels to hit a ditch, catch, and for the whole vehicle to flip over.

  She kept waiting for something. Some kind of impact.

  Rob was still unconscious in the front seat. Well, “unconscious” was looking at the situation with rose-tinted glasses. Most likely, he was dead.

  If he’d been alive, surely something by now would have stirred him awake from his unconscious stupor. Surely, the sound of a man being choked to death would have stirred him.

  Aly’s hands hurt her terribly. She’d never squeezed anything so hard in her life. Muscles in her hands ached, muscles that she’d never even known that she’d had.

  Somehow, the driver wasn’t dead yet.

  Maybe soon. Any second now. Maybe.

  She kept hoping that it’d be enough. That he’d just die.

  The psychological aspect of it was just as hard, if not harder, than the physical torment of trying to strangle a man to death with her own hands.

  Crazy thoughts ran through her head constantly. One after the other. At a rapid pace, like race cars zooming around a track, kicking up gravel and spraying dirt into the crowded stands. Thoughts like, “I should just let go. I shouldn’t kill him,” or, “This is wrong. I don’t even know him. I can’t kill him.”

  She had to fight against her own thoughts because she knew it was a case of pure survival. She needed to listen to her animal instincts, not her social programming, because that wasn’t doing her any good now.

  Suddenly, a tree was right in front of the windshield.

  The RV crashed into the tree.

  Everything seemed to slow down, as if she were watching a movie of her life in slow motion.

  Almost preposterously, she tried to keep her hands on his neck.

  But it was no use. The driver went flying forward, part of his body slamming into the steering wheel. His arms stuck out at odd angles for the brief moments that his body seemed to hang in the air.

  Aly went crashing into the seat immediately in front of her. There wasn’t far to travel to hit that seat, only an inch or two. But the impact still knocked the wind out of her lungs.

  The impact hit her hard.

  Time sped up again.

  She struggled to breathe.

  Her head felt fuzzy. Shaken up. Everything was out of whack.

  Her ears rang, as if she’d just heard some incredibly loud sound. But she knew there’d been no sound.

  There was nothing but silence. And stillness.

  The RV was still. A tree was right out the front windshield. A huge trunk. Branches running up against the glass that was cracked into spiderweb patterns.

  One thought rang through her head. She had to get her hands back around that driver’s neck.

  Her body was in pain. It felt like someone had punched her hard in the abdomen. Her arm felt funny. She was gasping for air.

  She forced herself to move. Her body didn’t want to. It wanted to do anything but move. It wanted to just lie there, waiting, resting. Forever, if possible.

  But her mind was strong. Stronger than her body. Strong enough to force her body to move.

  She got herself up, and in a single movement, launched herself over the front seat.

  Everything was out of order. Things were scattered all over the place. Rob’s body, unmoving, unconscious, mostly lay crumpled in a strange posture in the space in front of the seat he’d been in.

  The driver, the stranger, was still alive. He had his hand on the door handle. He was trying to open the door. He was trying to escape.

  Should she let him?

  Maybe he’d just run away. Maybe he wasn’t a threat anymore.

  Her body was pressed up against his.

  She felt his bones, his wiry muscles. There was hardly any fat on his frame.

  But as she hesitated, his face turned towards her.

  His hair was now completely soaked in sweat, completely disarranged.

  His pupils were small and contracted. There was hatred in his eyes. And fury too.

  “You!” he snarled.

  He sounded more like an animal than a human.

  His face was nothing but hatred. He bared his teeth, his lips seeming to disappear for a moment, as if he were a wild wolf intent on completing the kill.

  His hand released the door handle and started to swing around towards Aly.

  Aly already had her hands almost in position.

  She seized his neck. Just like before.

  Now she had to do it all over again. She’d gotten so close. So close to killing him. And now what had it all been for? That effort? He’d gotten to breathe. He’d gotten another chance.

  His hand came swinging around and smacked into her head. Hard. Her vision blacked out for a moment.

  She squeezed and squeezed. His face jerked around.

  It was all too confusing. Their bodies were tangled together.

  It happened before she had time to register that it was happening. He brought his forehead down. Hard. Headbutting her.

  She saw stars. Not actual stars. Just bright points of light against the blackness that overwhelmed her field of vision.

  Slowly, her vision came back to her. Fuzzy. Not as good as before.

  She kept her grip strong. As strong as she could. Her fingers dug into his flesh.

  His teeth were against her. A horrible scraping feeling. He chomped down. Hard. His filthy teeth tore into what flesh there was left of her cheek, the meager fatty deposits that hadn’t yet been worn down by the days and weeks of the semi-starvation that they’d all subsisted on.

  The pain flared through her. Pain that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  The man was simply an animal.

  His face was going very white.

  Thick saliva oozed from his mouth, covering her face.

  His eyes burned with fury.

  Suddenly, Aly knew the truth. She knew that she wouldn’t be able kill him. She wouldn’t be able to strangle him.

  He was rocking his whole body. Pushing against her.

  It was all so confusing.

  Suddenly, something went crashing into the stranger’s head.

  Part of his skull imploded.

  Bits of brain and skull scattered everywhere.

  There was a rock. Smallish. Covered in blood and brains.

  There was a hand around the rock.

  The hand was Rob’s.

  The stranger’s body fell limp against her. His face was pressing up ahead hers now. He was completely dead. But still warm. Rigor mortis hadn’t yet set in. Not for a long while.

  Aly tasted something. She felt around in her mouth with her tongue. There were little hard things. She spit, trying to get them out of her mouth. The sputtering ejected them. They were little pieces of skull.

  Finally, Aly relaxed her hands from around the stranger’s neck. Her fingers didn’t seem to move properly. Even once free from the man’s neck, each hand was still fixed in the shape of a claw.

  Rob’s face appeared. Tired eyes. Blood in his hair.

  But very much alive.

  He even flashed a smile.

  “I thought you were dead,” said Al
y.

  “I guess I did too.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Neither do I,” said Rob, chuckling tiredly to himself. “Come on. Let me get this jerk out of our vehicle.”

  It seemed like such an odd thing to say, calling the guy who she’d been fighting to the death a “jerk,” that Aly laughed. It seemed like the word “jerk” was altogether too casual, that there was no way it could describe the man she’d been trying to kill mere minutes before, the man whose eyes and face she knew she would never forget.

  10

  Jessica

  Jessica’s eyesight was better, but it definitely wasn’t anywhere near perfect. And she still couldn’t see through one eye at all.

  In front of her, Maddy ran as fast as her large pack allowed her. Her hiking boots crunched across discarded plastic bottles, leaves, sticks, and young saplings.

  They were cutting through a semi-wooded area that seemed to separate the large road from a residential area.

  Jessica could still hear the sound of the motorcycle engines over the crunching of plastic bottles and the snapping of sticks underfoot.

  Two motorcycles had come up and stopped. Their engines seemed to be idling, occasionally revving. The riders were two big men. One had long, tangled hair. The other had a shaved head. Both looked almost too big for their motorcycles.

  Jessica was surprised that she could see that far away. But she didn’t have time now to question what was going on with her vision. She was on the run for her life.

  “Where are you taking me?” called out Jessica, looking over her shoulder back at the road. “I’m getting the feeling that they’re going to chase us.”

  “Of course they’re going to chase us,” called out Maddy. She sounded somewhat cheerful, when she should have sounded, at the very least, terrified. But that seemed to be just the kind of person that Maddy was. Always cheerful. Always upbeat. No matter what.

  “How do you know?”

  Maddy had quickened her pace now. Her blonde ponytail bounced jauntily behind her. Jessica was panting, just trying to keep up with her. Maddy seemed to be in very good shape.