Avenge the Darkness: A Post Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (Survive the Darkness Book 4)

by Ryan Casey

  And his words caught her attention.

  “That group over in Morecambe,” he said. “You’re gonna need to learn how to use a gun if we’re gonna break into their place.”

  “Break into their place? You actually think there’s a chance of that?”

  “As long as I’m alive, I’ll not give up on that. Especially since we know they’re out here now. God only knows what drove ’em to blow this place up within an inch of its life. If there’s even any life left there at all. Now come on. Get a fucking move on. Ain’t got all night.”

  Aoife heard the people walk off through the woods. And it was those words that stuck with her. About Morecambe. About the explosives.

  Could they be the people?

  She heard them walking off towards her old home, and every instinct in her body told her to drop back. Because she was on her own, and she didn’t have any weapons. And there were at least four of them—possibly more out here in the woods. Probably a whole host of scavengers out here, ready to loot the shit out of the place.

  But another part of her didn’t give a damn.

  She wanted to know more about who she was dealing with.

  She wanted to know more, and she wanted to fucking rip off the faces of anyone who got in her way.

  She stood up. Saw those men moving forward. Tightened her fists.

  And then she went to step forward.

  That’s when she felt the hand around her mouth.

  The arm around her throat.

  “Ssh.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Aoife felt the arm around her throat, the hand covering her mouth, and she knew she was in deep shit.

  She tried to break free. Tried to swing her fists at whoever the hell was holding on to her, as in the distance, those scavengers got closer to the estate.

  “Be quiet, Aoife. Be quiet. It’s me. Come on. There’s nothing for us here.”

  Wait. He knew her name? And his voice…

  Fuck. It was Geoff.

  She tried even harder to break free of his grip, to speak. Wanted the bastard to let go of her, pronto.

  “Come on,” he said, trying to drag her back into the trees. “Don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing. Gonna get yourself killed. And the rest of us killed if you ain’t careful. And I ain’t keen on dying after barely surviving today.”

  Aoife tried to dig her heels in, but it was useless. Geoff was way stronger than her. And as much as she wanted to go after those scavengers, as much as she wanted to find out about Morecambe, where they spoke of a group with explosives… she couldn’t budge.

  “Let’s get you away from here. Let’s both get the hell away from here. Before they…”

  She didn’t know why he stopped. Not at first.

  But then she heard the footsteps in the woods behind her.

  Coming their way.

  “Shit,” Geoff said.

  There was someone coming.

  There was someone frigging coming.

  “Get down,” Geoff said, dragging her to the ground. “Hailey… She’s on her own out there with Rex. You’d better be quiet. If not for me, then for her. And for your damned dog, understand?”

  Aoife saw the way Geoff glared at her, listened to those footsteps crunching across the frosty ground, getting closer.

  And as much as she wanted to go after the scavengers and find out what they were talking about, she nodded.

  “Good,” Geoff said. “You’d better.”

  He moved his hand away, and Aoife gasped for air as the pair of them lay there on the forest floor.

  “Could you do that a bit quieter, maybe?” Geoff asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Aoife wheezed. “I’ll try my best to be quiet for you after you’ve just frigging strangled me.”

  “That’d be appreciated.”

  She shook her head. Looked around into the darkness of the woods. Over towards those footsteps. She didn’t know who they belonged to. Had to assume more scavengers.

  But this group.

  The one from Morecambe.

  The one who had to be responsible, somehow.

  They couldn’t be far away, right?

  They couldn’t have just left her here. Especially when that woman said she had a bone to pick with her.

  When she said she wanted her to suffer.

  She squinted into the darkness, into the trees, when she saw a figure appear.

  It was hard to make out at first. Just a dark silhouette, standing there amidst the trees.

  But then, as Aoife squinted, as the moonlight peeked through the branches, she noticed something that made her skin crawl.

  It was a woman.

  Dressed all in black.

  Wearing a balaclava over her head.

  Aoife felt cold.

  She lost all sense of her surroundings.

  All sense of everything.

  All that mattered to her?

  This was the woman who’d killed Max.

  This was the woman who’d destroyed her community.

  She was right here.

  “Just stay low,” Geoff whispered. “Stay low, and she won’t… hey!”

  Aoife didn’t process a thing.

  She ran.

  Ran as fast as she fucking could at the woman.

  Didn’t care that she didn’t have a weapon.

  Didn’t care about anything.

  She just wanted to kick the shit out of her for what she’d done.

  Torture her.

  Murder her.

  The woman didn’t see her at first.

  Then she turned. Very suddenly.

  Looked right at Aoife with those green eyes again.

  And Aoife half-expected her to stand up. Half-expected her to fight.

  But instead, she turned, and she ran.

  Aoife launched herself after her. She had to track her down. Had to chase her. Had to kill the bitch.

  And then she felt something around her ankle.

  Something wrapped around it. Sent her flying to the ground.

  The woman disappeared into the trees.

  “I told you,” Geoff said. “I told you to stay the hell quiet.”

  It was only when Aoife looked around that she realised it was Geoff who stopped her.

  “Let me go!”

  “I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

  “The woman. The woman who fucking killed Max. She was there. She—she was there and—”

  “I don’t give a shit if the Devil himself is there right now. What I care about is surviving. And… Awh, crap.”

  Aoife heard voices. Saw the scavengers pointing back at the woods, shouting, running their way.

  “See what you’ve gone and done now?” Geoff said.

  But Aoife wasn’t with it.

  Her only focus was that darkness in the woods, where the woman had disappeared to.

  “Come on,” Geoff said. “If you don’t frigging come back with me now, I’ll leave you here. I swear I’ll leave you here. But good luck with the scavengers. They look like a friendly fucking bunch.”

  Aoife wanted to take her chances. She was seething. Seething that Geoff had stopped her. That the woman had got away.

  But when she looked around and saw the scavengers coming towards her, she knew that even though she wanted to find out about Morecambe—find out about this woman—there was no hope in standing against them. She’d only get herself in deeper shit.

  And she needed to live right now. If only to murder the bitch who’d killed Max.

  “Come on,” Geoff said. “Get up. Let’s go.”

  She looked back at that darkness. Into the woods, where the woman disappeared.

  And then she shook her head, sighed, and followed Geoff off into the woods, away from the scavengers, into the darkness.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Aoife stood in Max’s old bedroom and felt the emptiness hanging in the air.

  It was strange, being back here, at his cottage in the woods. Dark. Dust
y. A musty, un-lived smell to the air. Everywhere was echoey. Like it was clear already that nobody had been here for a long time. Lifeless. Soulless.

  Like the house itself knew that its old owner was gone.

  She looked at his bed, still unmade from the last time he’d slept in it, a year ago. Looked at the bare walls. The watch on the cabinet at the side, the time stopped right at midnight. She looked at the clothes in the wardrobe. Went over to them. Smelled them. That sweetness of his skin, making her feel like he was still here.

  But the reminder, the sinking feeling in his stomach, that he was gone.

  She saw the photograph, then. Right on the bedside cabinet. Max. His wife, Kathryn. And his son, David.

  Saw them there, smiling. Happy.

  And it pained her to admit she barely recognised him in this photo. For even as much as he’d rediscovered his love of life over the last few months, there was still a haunted expression to his face. Like a spectre was hanging over him at all times.

  In this photo, he looked happy. He looked alive. He looked in love.

  She smiled, welling up. Put the photo back down.

  Then she heard footsteps by the door.

  She sighed. “You should learn to sneak up on people better.”

  “I’d say I did a pretty decent job in the woods, wouldn’t you?”

  She turned. Saw Geoff standing there, leaning on the door. Not quite looking into her eyes like he was trying to avoid all contact.

  “You shouldn’t have stopped me out there.”

  “I did it for your own sake, and you know it.”

  “That woman,” Aoife said. “She killed Max. She shouldn’t have got away—”

  “You went running towards her with no weapon. No nothing. Scavengers lurking nearby. You coulda killed yourself. You coulda killed all of us. Really, I did you a favour.”

  Aoife sighed. “I appreciate it, I guess.”

  “I’ll take that as a thanks. You should get some rest, anyway. It’s late.”

  Aoife nodded. She felt knackered. But there was no way she was sleeping tonight. She wasn’t sleeping until she found that woman.

  Until she tortured her and destroyed her for what she’d done.

  “So should you,” Aoife said.

  Geoff laughed a little. “Oh, I’m a night owl. Always have been. Got by on three hours sleep a night back when I was a lorry driver. You kind of learn to grab what you can when you do summat like that.”

  “Hailey okay?”

  “Flat out. Think it’s hit her hard, though. The shock. Like… she’s a good woman. Nice. But she’s not as hardened as us two, y’know. Kind of sheltered. From the bad stuff. From the… the dark stuff.”

  He looked at Aoife, then. And she felt a twinge of sickness in her stomach. Was he suggesting something?

  Implying something without saying as much?

  “Anyway,” Geoff said. “Tomorrow’s… tomorrow’s a new day. We figure out where we’re going from there. At least we’re—”

  “I know what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m going to find that woman. I’m going to go to Morecambe, and I’m going to find out more about the group who did this. And I’m going to make them pay. For what they did to us.”

  Geoff opened his mouth like he was going to argue. Then he closed it. Sighed. “All in a day’s work, huh?”

  “I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not resting until I’ve brought them to justice.”

  “Don’t doubt you for one second.”

  He looked down again at the floor. A silence between them.

  “Aoife,” he said. “You don’t think this might be to do with—”

  “No,” Aoife said.

  Even though she felt it.

  Even though she feared it herself.

  But she couldn’t face that.

  She couldn’t face up to the possibility that it might be to do with what she feared it was.

  What Geoff clearly feared it was.

  Because that would mean it was on her.

  And she couldn’t bear to carry that sort of weight.

  He looked like he was going to say something else.

  Then, he just nodded. Half-smiled.

  “Try to get some sleep,” he said. “Big day ahead of us tomorrow. Tough day. First day of our new world. It ain’t gonna be easy. So be ready.”

  Aoife nodded. “You, too.”

  He stood there a few seconds. Like he was going to say something else. Almost like he was keeping something from her. And it felt… creepy, somehow.

  And then he just turned around.

  Walked away.

  Left Aoife alone in the darkness, alone in Max’s old bedroom.

  The guilt creeping through her system.

  The thoughts of shame filling her mind.

  No.

  It couldn’t be what Geoff said.

  It couldn’t be because of that.

  But she kept on seeing those green eyes, staring back at her…

  She kept on seeing them, and as much as she tried to push back, as much as she tried to fight against them…

  She couldn’t.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Grace lay on the forest floor in the middle of the darkness.

  It was pitch black, and it was cold. She couldn’t stop shivering. Not just with the cold. But with what she’d done, too. With everything that’d happened today.

  The explosions.

  The killings.

  And… her.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat. It’d been a crazy day. And a whole host of emotions ran through her body. Partly relief. Partly pride.

  But also shame, too.

  Shame and fear.

  It wasn’t the cathartic release she was hoping for.

  But that would come.

  She knew, in time, that would come.

  She stood up. Squinted through the darkness of the forest, over at the estate. Things couldn’t have gone better. Stealing the explosives from the group over at Morecambe. Bribing one of the estate community to lay them down, get them ready to blow.

  And then…

  The man.

  The man staggering out of the walls of the community towards her.

  The smile on her face as she saw him.

  A smile of love.

  And at that moment, at that instant, Grace felt it all over again.

  The love she’d felt for her sister.

  And how it’d been taken from her.

  She’d lifted her rifle and shot him.

  Then she’d gone over to him.

  Burned him while her little mole held the girl back.

  Listened to him squeal.

  Watched the girl cry. Scream. Hysterical.

  And she’d felt bad, letting that man burn. Making him suffer like that. It didn’t feel like something she wanted to do at all. She wasn’t a monster. She was a good person. Someone who had always done things by the book.

  But she’d never experienced loss like she’d experienced it six months ago.

  She’d never felt the urge for revenge like she’d felt it this last half-year.

  And she’d never lived in a world where it was so easy to get that revenge without facing any consequences.

  But right now, standing here in the dark, there was an emptiness.

  A feeling that she’d never scratch the itch for revenge.

  That she’d never fill the hole of loss that had opened in her life.

  That even if she made the woman suffer in ways she felt bad even imagining, it wouldn’t be enough.

  She took a deep breath.

  Thought of that woman.

  Felt the hatred for her.

  And she felt all the pain she was going to cause her, and it fuelled her.

  Charged her.

  It was only just beginning.

  She went to turn around and walk away when she heard footsteps behind her, approaching through the trees.

  She lifted her pistol for a second, when she saw it was him. />
  He stepped out of the trees.

  Walked up to her.

  Stern look on his face.

  She lowered her pistol. “You.”

  “One way to say ‘thanks’,” the man said. “Now. About payment.”

  “You’ll be paid when it’s done.”

  “Done? You destroyed my community. Killed every damned person in there. And I’ve got her here for you, right on a plate. We not done yet?”

  Grace walked up to the man. Pointed the pistol, right at his chest. “Don’t forget the fact I’m keeping you alive at all is a favour in itself. After what you were a part of.”

  The man lowered his head. Nodded. “Right.”

  “So you’re still in?”

  “What?”

  “You’ll help me. With the next step.”

  The man opened his mouth like he was going to protest. Then he sighed. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  Grace smiled. Pulled the pistol away. “Good. Then this is what you have to do.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Aoife gasped and jolted upright.

  It was light. Flames. Flames surrounding her. Getting closer to her.

  Max, lying there.

  Burning.

  Screaming…

  Then she realised something.

  She wasn’t surrounded by flames at all.

  She was lying on Max’s bed at his cottage in the woods. She felt groggy, mouth dry, head aching. Must’ve fallen to sleep. The curtains were open, and bright winter sun shone right in. On the branches of the trees outside, she could see a pair of robins, both chirping away.

  She got up, a little dizzy. Saw Rex lying at the foot of the bed, wagging his tail a bit. Seemed to have perked up a bit since outright rejecting her yesterday. But still wasn’t quite there.

  She knew she’d have to be patient with him. Give him time.

  She squeezed the bridge of her nose, a sense of urgency suddenly kicking in as she stood and walked across the wooden floorboards of the bedroom. She had no idea how long she’d slept. Her sleep must’ve been deep and dreamless, something she was thankful for. Wasn’t ready to handle the nightmares. Not now. Not ever.

  She walked to the bedroom door and heard Rex whine a little.

  She turned around. Saw him still lying there. Still not making eye contact with her. Damn. Poor sod. He wasn’t usually like this.