Stay Out of the Shadows: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller

by A. P. Madden

  Luke pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Luke frowned and realised the safety was on. The man grinned and bucked wildly to throw him off.

  Luke hit the floor hard and the man raised the knife and Luke shot him in the chest.

  They both stared at the tiny patch of red. The man’s expression twisted in rage, and his eyes filled with murderous intent. He was going to take Luke with him.

  Luke shot him in the head. His stomach rolled when he saw what happened to the man’s head, but he couldn’t look away. He pushed himself backwards until his back hit the wall and took a few shaky breaths.

  He hadn’t killed anyone in a long time. It wasn’t the first time - his hand had been forced in the past - but it had been so long that he had convinced himself it wouldn’t happen again. Things were different now. They had a community, a home. Walls to protect them. Things were supposed to be different.

  Luke forced himself to his feet. The gun was loud. The others would be coming. He walked into the living room and broke the window to climb out the front. The crash of broken glass was loud, but it didn’t matter now. They knew where he was.

  He cleared the remaining shards and climbed out carefully. He tried not to think as he hurried down the street in a half-crouch.

  ***

  Chapter 15 - The Garden

  Luke found the garden, eventually. It took him some time, since he kept getting lost until he got back to the main road, and he had to take some detours to avoid the rest of the men. They were searching for him. For all of them.

  When Luke got closer to the garden, the adrenaline was finally starting to fade. In its place, he felt exhaustion and aches and pains over his entire body, especially his side. He pulled up the hem of his shirt and grimaced at the blood. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he told himself.

  He stepped into the garden and looked behind the bushes. The garden was empty.

  Luke cursed and looked up and down the street. Where were they? He turned towards the house to see if they went inside, and Seth was standing right there.

  Luke jumped back. “Whoa! Where did you come from?”

  “In there,” Seth said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the big semi-detached house.

  “Where’s Naomi?”

  Seth hesitated. “I hoped she would be with you.”

  “What?”

  “She went to find you, told me to stay here.”

  “What do you mean? She just left?”

  “She said she wouldn’t attack them,” Seth said quickly. “She was just going to take a look to see if they captured you, and then come back. She said you might need help.”

  He cursed loudly, but as soon as the anger started to rise in his chest, he realised he was being a hypocrite. He would have done the exact same thing if their positions were reversed.

  He cursed again and looked at Seth. “I need to go back,” Luke said. Stress and exhaustion pulled at him, but he ignored them. “She might be in trouble.”

  “She brought the gun,” Seth said. “She can protect herself.”

  Luke wasn’t sure if the kid was trying to reassure himself or Luke. It sounded like it could have been both.

  “The gun,” Luke said, perking up. “I didn’t hear any gunshots. Did you?”

  Seth hesitated. “Just one, but-”

  “That was me,” Luke said. “Were there any others?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “That’s good,” Luke said. “If she got into trouble, she would have used her weapon.” He glanced up the empty street, desperately hoping to see her walking towards them. “Probably.”

  Seth seemed unconvinced, and Luke couldn’t blame him.

  “We should just wait for her,” Luke said. “Give her two or three hours and see if she shows up.”

  Seth frowned. “It’s already been like four hours.”

  “It has?”

  Seth nodded and lifted his arm. There was a shiny silver watch on his wrist, the kind of watch Luke would have expected to see on a businessman or someone with money. The kid probably stole it. “Four and a half,” he corrected, looking at it.

  Luke sighed. “It must have taken me longer than I realised to get back here.” He looked up at the sky and made his decision. “It’s getting dark. We have to assume she’s stuck somewhere or she’s bunking in one of the houses overnight. She might be stuck somewhere, or maybe she’s too far away to make it back before dark. We’ll spend the night somewhere and meet her at the rendezvous tomorrow.”

  “Rendezvous?”

  “Yeah.” Luke didn’t bother explaining. Seth had carried out the bags from the car, and Luke grabbed his backpack and rummaged through it. He pulled out a stick of chalk that he packed for situations exactly like this one and walked over to the wall of the house. He wrote a quick note for Naomi, keeping it vague in case anyone else saw it.

  Gone to rendezvous. L + S

  Luke sighed, staring at the words and wishing he could do more. But the sky was already darker than when he arrived, and night was falling fast.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  Chapter 16 - I Did It

  Luke stumbled towards the houses, pushing Seth ahead of him.

  “Hey! I’m fine, okay? Stop shoving me.”

  Luke ignored him. “Stay here,” he said, glancing up and down the street before he pulled the front door open and slipped inside. Blood was flowing warmly between his fingers, but he needed to make sure they were alone before he could deal with his wound.

  Several minutes later, he went back out to the porch. “It’s safe.”

  The kid rolled his eyes and jumped up from the wooden rocking chair he was sitting on. “Obviously. If there was someone here, they would have heard us coming.”

  Luke was going to point out that they could be hiding or lying in wait for trespassers - or have any number of ulterior agendas - but his vision spun and he banged his shoulder against the doorframe as he stepped inside.

  Seth frowned at him. “You look like crap, by the way.”

  “Thanks.”

  Luke moved to the stairs. It took his entire focus to lift each foot and bring it down on the next step.

  “Could we move any slower?”

  Luke ignored. If he tried to reply, he might end up tripping and falling back down the stairs.

  Finally, he reached the landing and sagged against the wall. His face was wet with sweat, and he could feel his strength slipping.

  “Thought I had more time,” he said, forcing the words out between gritted teeth. “You’re gonna have to patch me up, kid.”

  “I’m not a- wait, what? What’s wrong with you?” Seth hurried up the last few steps and stepped around him. His eyes widened. “You’re bleeding. Oh my god, why didn’t you tell me? Why did you waste so much time wandering around this house?”

  “Needed to make sure it was safe,” Luke said. His words slurred and his body slid partway down the wall.

  Seth’s face was pale, and he helped Luke lie down on the floor at the top of the stairs. “I can’t move you to a bed,” he said. “You’re too big. Just stay here, I’ll... I’ll check the bathroom for a first aid kit or something.”

  Luke drifted in and out of consciousness. How did he let himself get this bad? He must have been bleeding more heavily than he realised. Or maybe the blood loss interfered with his common sense. He should have done something differently. This was a mistake. This was...

  “Luke. Hey, Luke. Luke.” Seth slapped him hard across the face, and Luke opened his eyes. “Stay with me, man. You’re not supposed to sleep. That’s what they always say, isn’t it?”

  Luke didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

  Seth nodded and took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, they didn’t have any medical stuff, but I found some clean clothes and a bunch of alcohol. Vodka, mostly. It’ll do the job.”

  Luke fought the darkness at the edges of his vision, and he heard Seth ripping up
clothes.

  “It’s bad,” Seth told him. “I got a needle and some thread. It won’t be pretty, but I’m gonna clean the wound and sew it up. It’s gonna hurt. Actually, maybe you should go to sleep. It would be less painful that way.”

  Luke groaned and tried to sit up.

  “Hey! Don’t do that. Don’t move.” Luke felt his shirt being ripped off, and then something wet pouring over his skin. He didn’t know if it was blood or water or alcohol.

  A moment later, hot pain flashed through his body. He cursed loudly and gritted his teeth, trying not to move away from the pain.

  Alcohol, then.

  Luke lost any sense of time, so he didn’t know if the pain was brief or drawn out, but he knew it hurt. A lot. Seth’s voice was a constant background. He couldn’t make out the words, but it sounded like the kid was talking to himself. Maybe he was convincing himself to keep going, or he was wishing for someone to come along and save him from this situation.

  Later, Luke opened his eyes again. Seth was patting his face gently, telling him to wake up.

  “You need to drink this,” he said.

  Luke struggled to move his mouth, but he managed to part his lips slightly, and Seth poured a trickle of water into his mouth. When Luke swallowed, he poured some more. Eventually, Seth sat against the wall beside him and let out a huge sigh.

  “I did it,” Seth said.

  Luke could barely hear his voice, and the exhaustion was rolling over him like a tidal wave.

  “I did it. You better not die on me, you idiot.”

  ***

  When Luke woke up again, it was dark. His body was stiff and he groaned and rolled over. His tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. He was still on the floor, but there was a pillow underneath his head and he had been moved a few feet away from the stairs.

  He blinked a few times and spotted the water glass sitting on the floor beside him. He sat up with a series of grunts and curses, and then he grabbed the water and gulped it down. It felt like heaven running down his dry throat, and he sighed in relief and lay back down.

  He drifted off again.

  ***

  Luke was on a mattress the next time he woke up.

  “I couldn’t lift you onto the bed,” Seth said. “So I got the mattress from the other bedroom.”

  Luke looked up at him and realised the boy must have seen the confusion on his face. They were in a bedroom, and Seth was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed. He was reading something - a magazine or a comic book, Luke couldn’t see the cover properly.

  When Seth noticed him looking at it, he threw it behind him quickly. “You’ve been out for hours,” he said. “Over a day, actually. I found some food and water downstairs, and I got some more stuff from the houses nearby. I wasn’t sure how long we’re gonna be here.”

  Luke groaned and sat up slowly. He touched the bandages on his side gingerly, wincing at the pain. “You shouldn’t have left the house,” he said.

  “Knew you’d say that,” Seth said. Luke could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Luke looked up at him. The kid was pale and there were dark lines beneath his eyes. “Thanks,” he said.

  Seth shrugged and looked out the window beside him. “Whatever. I need you, don’t I? I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”

  Luke smirked. “Sure you did.”

  Seth glared at him. “I didn’t do it for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Sure.”

  Seth rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at him.

  Luke laughed, and then groaned when the laughter sent spikes of pain up his side.

  “Naomi is going to be worried sick,” Seth said.

  “Not for long. We’ll leave as soon as I can find some clean clothes.” Luke tried to stand, and his limbs almost buckled at the sharp agony that exploded through him.

  “No way!” Seth jumped off the bed and pushed down on his shoulders, forcing him to lie back down. “You’re not allowed to ruin all my work. You need to heal up a bit before we go anywhere.”

  Luke groaned, but his body stopped screaming at him when he lay down. Maybe some rest wasn’t the worst idea.

  ***

  Chapter 17 - The First Punch

  Two nights later, Luke lay awake and planned their trip in the morning. It would be his third day in this house - lying in bed and waiting for his body to heal - and he knew he couldn’t face a fourth day. It was too much. He was going to go crazy if he didn’t get moving. Naomi could be anywhere and anything could have happened to her. He told himself that she was safe at the rendezvous, waiting for them to show up, but there were a hundred things that could have gone wrong.

  Luke needed to get back on his feet.

  Seth slept quietly nearby. There were two bedrooms, but they both agreed it would be safer to share a room while they were here. The mattress looked better since Luke forced Seth to put bed sheets on it. The kid protested, but Luke insisted - he had almost bled to death and he was sure that some of his blood had gotten onto the mattress when Seth rolled him onto it.

  Voices.

  Luke stiffened. He held his breath and listened, waiting to hear it again. He had to make sure he didn’t imagine it. It was still the early hours of the morning, and he wasn’t expecting anyone to be wandering around in the dark.

  “I’ve got this one,” a man said. His voice travelled through the open window, and Luke gritted his teeth and sat up slowly. He heard boots crunching on gravel as the man approached the house.

  Luke didn’t know if the men were searching for them after the attack a few days ago, or if it was an unfortunate coincidence.

  “Scream if you need help,” another man joked. He was further away, and Luke heard a mix of other voices, too. None of them sounded close to the house.

  “Screw you,” the first man said.

  Someone else spoke. “If you find anything good - food, weapons, women - give us a shout. Don’t keep it all for yourself.”

  The voices moved away and continued the banter, and Luke heard the man step onto the porch.

  One man. He could take one man.

  He slipped off the bed, landing soundlessly on his bare feet. Cool air brushed against his back, but he didn’t bother to get dressed. He had fallen asleep wearing his old jeans, and he crossed to the window quickly, scanning the dark street outside.

  Most people avoided scavenging at night. The men outside were all loud, big and strong, and they looked mean. They chose to work at night. They wanted to find people sleeping, hiding, vulnerable.

  Luke couldn’t see the man on the porch directly below him, but he could see some of the others spreading across the street. All men, all armed, and Luke squinted as one of them turned to make a joke to the man beside him.

  Luke knew him. He recognised him from the city, so many months ago. He was one of Morgan’s men.

  Luke was sore and stiff, but he knew he could do it. He glanced across the room at the kitchen knife sitting on the bedside table. Quick and quiet. The man was about to break into the house, and Luke had to stop him before he found them and alerted his friends.

  I can’t believe I’m considering this, Luke said.

  He threw the pillow at Seth, and the kid woke with a grunt.

  Luke gestured to him, pointing to the window and indicating that he needed to be quiet. To his credit, the kid reacted quickly and quietly. He got to his feet, grabbing his sneakers and his backpack. He pointed to the door and raised his brows in a question.

  Luke shook his head. They weren’t running. “Not yet,” he whispered.

  Luke padded to the bedroom door and pressed his ear against it. He heard muffled cursing, and the man forced the front door open with a loud crack of splintered wood. Seth had remembered to lock it. If Luke hadn’t heard their voices, the noise from the door being broken open would have woken them up and saved their lives.

  He grabbed the large kit
chen knife from the bedside table and slipped into the hallway. His heart was in his throat and he had to make an effort to control his breathing.

  Luke waited at the top of the stairs. He watched the man’s shadow cross the hallway beneath him, pausing at the stairs. Luke prepared to hide himself, but he knew the man would check downstairs first. Everyone always checked downstairs first.

  The shadow moved on, and Luke heard him go into the living room. He took the stairs slowly, trying to take gentle steps to avoid any creaks. He didn’t follow him into the living room. The windows were large and faced the front of the house. His friends could still be outside.

  Luke walked into the dark kitchen and waited for him.

  The knife felt heavy in his hand, and guilt twisted his stomach into knots. Did this count as self-defence? He didn’t think so. His thoughts flashed back to his conversation with Jackson - “You think you’re too good to get your hands dirty,” Jackson said.

  Luke listened to the man moving through the house.

  “You refuse to kill someone unless they throw the first punch.”

  This man wasn’t throwing the first punch. He didn’t even know Luke was there. But Luke didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t risk trying to knock him out or subdue him - he was injured and still not at full strength, and all it would take was one shout to alert all of the other men in the street.

  Luke swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat and focused.

  The man muttered to himself as he went through the stuff in the living room. “Looks like someone’s already been here,” he said. “Probably looters back when the bombs fell.”

  Luke wondered if he would notice the dust on everything except the things Luke and Seth had moved.

  “Nice place,” the man muttered. “Would have been a nice life for these folks before the world ended.” He didn’t sound sympathetic or sad. He sounded like he was discussing the weather.

  The man finally left the living room and walked towards the kitchen. Luke hung back in the shadows beside the door. If he walked past, Luke could step into the hallway and take care of him easily. If he came into the kitchen... Luke would need to be fast. He didn’t think he had the strength to win if it came to a struggle.