Darkness Ahead of Us | Book 1 | Darkness Within

by Spencer, Leif

  Somebody knocked on the door the day after the soldier had robbed us. A woman asked for you. I think it was Sarah. Mum didn’t want to open the door, but when the woman wouldn’t stop knocking, she went outside. I heard shouting, then it sounded as if somebody was falling down the stairs. Mum came back half an hour later and when I asked what had happened, she brushed me off.

  He’d written another line below then crossed it out. She held the note closer to the candle but couldn’t make out the words.

  The note continued: The night of the EMP, I went looking for her and her boss threatened me. Mum killed him. Just like that. She claims that Dad was dead when she found him, but she was covered in his blood. She won’t talk about it.

  Please burn this. Please don’t tell her I said anything.

  Anna’s heart thudded so loudly in her chest she worried it might wake Chris in the other room. Ragged breathing threatened to turn into a full-blown panic attack. She pressed her hand against her mouth, stifling her sobs.

  Sarah had been here.

  Chris had hurt her.

  Had her sister managed to get away?

  Anna opened her window and used the candle to burn the note in her hand. The paper shrivelled up as the flames consumed Tom’s handwriting. She blew on the remains until there was nothing but smoke and tossed the ashes into the wind.

  She opened her wardrobe and found loose jogging trousers before shuffling into the kitchen, still carrying the candle.

  She inspected her arsenal of potential weapons: rat poison, steak knives and a can of pepper spray.

  Chris had the other can.

  Anna’s eyes wandered over her spice rack. If necessary, she could create a makeshift acid with chilli powder. Anna held onto the kitchen counter, unmoving.

  Paralysed.

  Her hands gripped the edges, the blood draining from her knuckles. She fought down a surge of panic. Sucking on her bottom lip, she tried to keep the voice in her head from overwhelming her.

  Don’t ever hesitate, Chris. Act.

  She’d said those words to Chris, and now the woman was heeding her advice.

  Anna shoved the can of pepper spray into her trouser pocket.

  She had to search the other flats. Make sure Chris hadn’t dumped Sarah’s body somewhere. Anna waited in the kitchen until daylight trickled in through the window.

  Sarah had been here.

  What if she was tied up and gagged in one of the flats below?

  You’re being drama—

  No.

  Chris had been willing to kill. More than once.

  Anna pushed the chest of drawers out of the way and opened the front door, inspecting the stairwell for blood. On her hands and knees, she searched the cold surface, looking for any change in colour or residue.

  The steps smelled of bleach.

  She went down one flight of stairs to the third-floor landing. She noticed a dark spot by the front door to the flat there. It looked like somebody had scrubbed the concrete, but that spot could have been there before. It wasn’t as if the staircase had been clean to begin with.

  Her knee twinged as she struggled back to her feet.

  If Chris had killed Sarah, she would have had to dispose of the body. But where?

  She knocked on the door. Oreo trotted down the stairs. He tilted his head, his black eyes watching her.

  She tried to open the door, but it was locked. The couple living there spent a lot of time abroad. She hadn’t seen them in weeks.

  “Wait for me,” she said to Oreo, then walked down another flight of stairs and entered the flat on the second floor. It looked just like she’d left it after splitting everything inside with her neighbours on the ground floor. The cupboards and drawers were still open. A thin layer of dust covered the kitchen table.

  The flat on the first floor was still locked. The previous tenants had moved out a couple of months ago. The letting agency had the keys.

  Anna knew the ground-floor flat was occupied—she’d heard their toddler scream more than once since the EMP—and decided to head outside first. She inspected the communal patch of grass at the back of the block. It was thriving in the English summer rain.

  Uncut. Untouched.

  Anna went back inside and knocked on the door of the ground-floor flat. The young father opened it with the door chain firmly slotted in.

  “Hello,” Anna stammered, her cheeks growing hot. “We’ve met before. I live—”

  “Top floor, I know.” He narrowed his eyes. “Anna, right?”

  “Uhm…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m looking for my sister. She was supposed to come here…she’s a lot taller, but we look pretty much alike.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve only seen that other woman with her son.”

  “Did you hear anything the last few nights? Fighting? Shouting?”

  “No, sorry.” He scratched his beard, his cheeks blotchy.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Maddie’s sick. The hospital sent us home with antibiotics.” He yawned. “Any news on the power coming back on? Or when the next supply crate is due? We’re almost out of water.”

  Anna frowned. “The power coming back on?”

  “Yes? I didn’t think it would take them two weeks. I’m sure I heard gunshots earlier today. They were busy at the hospital as well.”

  Anna blinked. Did he really think the power would be back? And that the government would continue supplying food and water?

  “No, I haven’t heard any news, sorry.” Anna swallowed and wondered if she should tell him more, but she didn’t want another person knowing about the food in her flat.

  He smiled. “Give us a shout if you need anything.”

  Baffled, Anna nodded. “Likewise.”

  “I hope you find your sister.” He closed the door.

  “Anna? What are you doing?” Chris’ voice travelled through the stairwell.

  Anna headed back upstairs, gathering her courage. Oreo was waiting on the third floor. She gestured for him to go upstairs. “I was just…” She gave a small shrug and closed the door to her apartment, then pushed the chest of drawers back in front of it.

  She followed Chris into the kitchen and watched as the woman warmed a mug of water over three candles before mixing coffee into it.

  Tears stung Anna’s eyes. She’d been so scared that she would find Sarah’s body that she’d forgotten to go to Pet’s Corner.

  She couldn’t let fear overwhelm her.

  Not if she wanted to survive.

  Anna took a deep breath. “Be honest with me, Chris. Did anyone else knock? Was anyone else here?”

  “Why do you keep asking?” Chris snapped.

  Behind her, Tom shook his head, eyes widening in horror, but Anna ignored him. She wrapped her hand around the pepper spray in her trousers. “Because my sister is missing!” Tears of frustration blurred her vision and she bit back a curse. “She said she’d come here, and I need to know what you’ve done to her.”

  Chris blinked. “Why would I have done something to her? Where is this coming from?”

  “You killed your manager.”

  Chris whirled around and glared at her son. “Did you tell her that? Are you the one filling her head with these silly ideas?”

  “No, Mum—”

  “Yes, I stabbed Mike.” Chris turned back to Anna. “And I’m not sorry that he’s dead, but you can’t listen to Tom. He’s traumatised. He’s thirteen. He doesn’t understand these things.” Her face grew increasingly red as she spoke. “Mike threatened Tom with his taser. You saw him do that to us, Anna. Yes, I killed him, but what else was I supposed to do?”

  Anna leaned against the fridge to hide her trembling hands. “He threatened Tom with his taser?” She looked at Tom. “Is that true?”

  He nodded.

  “Couldn’t you have knocked him out or something?”

  Chris bristled with anger. “He aimed his taser at me and fired. I guess the EMP had damaged it and it didn�
��t work. I stabbed him. I did it to save my son. Like you said Anna, the time to be polite is over. We need to act. And I did. I kept us safe.”

  Anna frowned. “What about John? The soldier? Did you have to poison him?”

  Chris raised both eyebrows. “Seriously? He was robbing us, Anna. He was going to come back. I was protecting your flat. Your food.”

  “And that’s when you realised that the remaining food wouldn’t be enough for the four of us.” Spittle flew from Anna’s mouth and she wiped her chin with the back of her hand. “What have you done to my sister?”

  “Nothing, Anna. Sarah didn’t come knocking. Somebody did, yes.” She gave her son a long look. “That woman claimed to be your sister, but she didn’t match the description you’d given me. I threatened her. She left.”

  “Oh?” Anna scowled. This story made no sense. Why would anyone come to her flat and pretend to be her sister? “What did she look like?”

  “Skinny with dark, curly hair. It doesn’t matter, Anna.” Chris tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and grimaced. “You won’t believe me either way.”

  Chris was right. Anna didn’t believe her. “What about your husband?”

  Chris paled. “What about him?”

  “You were in the room with him when he—”

  “No.” Chris’ eyes bulged. “He was dead when I found him. I sat there for hours. I didn’t hurt him. His skin was so cold…he must have died before my shift ended.” She turned to Tom. “You have to believe me. I’d have never hurt your dad.”

  Anna scoffed. I told him…I told him we’d be better off without him. “That’s not true, you—” She stopped, seeing the hatred flash in Chris’ eyes.

  But it was too late. Tom took a step towards Chris. “What did you do, Mum?”

  “Nothing,” Chris said quickly.

  “Mum?”

  Anna thought back to Chris’ words: If Tom ever finds out what I said…if he finds out that I’m the reason his father is dead, he’ll never speak to me again.

  She thought of the despair clouding Chris’ eyes. That hadn’t been a lie.

  “Your mum told me that she’d been fighting a lot with your dad.” Deflated, Anna sank to the floor. “I don’t know what to do, Chris. I don’t trust you. And I don’t know how to believe that you’re telling the truth.”

  “I know,” Chris said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  16

  Anna retreated to her bedroom and closed the door. She pressed her face into a pillow and screamed. Tears soaked into the fabric. Oreo nudged her with his nose, and her hand found his soft fur.

  Fear and confusion overwhelmed her, her stomach knotting with pain from the stress. She dropped the pillow and glanced outside where the sun illuminated the trees lining the edges of the park.

  Pet’s Corner was only fifteen minutes away.

  Hopefully, her sister would be there the next morning, waiting for her, annoyed she’d taken so long.

  But what if she wasn’t there? What if Sarah had given up? Or was hurt somewhere between Colchester and Harlow?

  And what if Chris didn’t let Anna back in afterwards? Where would she go?

  Unable to contain the nagging voice in her head any longer, Anna sobbed into the pillow. The voice wouldn’t let up. Wouldn’t be silenced.

  She’d be without food and water. Without medicine.

  Unless…

  Unless she packed a bag. Unless she was ready to leave the flat behind.

  For the third time in two weeks, Anna was faced with a potentially life-changing choice.

  She either believed Chris’ words, believed that she had not met Sarah and assumed Chris was an ally—someone she could trust—and waited near Pet’s Corner every morning at sunrise. Or she—

  Anna pressed her knuckles into her temples and groaned.

  Did she really have a choice? The dog opened one eye and gave her a concerned look.

  She didn’t doubt that Chris had told her the truth about Mike. The man had been a threat, and the memory of his derisive sneer sent a shiver down her spine. If it hadn’t been for the security guard, they’d have been in trouble.

  It wasn’t as if Chris could have called the police, and she’d been alone with her son, late at night with no one there to help.

  Anna would have done the same, but she couldn’t deny the hardness around Chris’ mouth. The determination lifting her chin. Or the darkness within her eyes.

  And what if Anna got in Chris’ way? Now Chris had access to the flat and supplies, Anna had outlived her usefulness. She was just another mouth to feed. Another mouth endangering Tom’s survival.

  How long would it take for Chris to show her true colours?

  According to Tom’s note, it had been Sarah who’d knocked. Who else would have known about Sarah? Could it have been one of Anna’s colleagues?

  Anna didn’t think anybody knew where she lived.

  Or that she had a sister.

  Apart from her dad.

  Skinny. Dark, curly hair. She knew nobody who matched that description.

  Lester was another story entirely. Why would Chris hurt her own husband? His father’s death must have traumatised Tom. It was tough to lose a parent. Even tougher in a situation like this.

  Perhaps the boy was imagining things?

  Anna couldn’t imagine having to face the end of the world as they knew it while battling something as cruel as depression. She found it hard enough to get up in the mornings as it was.

  On the other hand, Chris had proved her willingness to kill for her son. Kill to ensure her own survival.

  It didn’t matter if Tom’s account had been true. Anna couldn’t trust Chris.

  Not after everything that had happened.

  Not now she knew about Mike. And about the young soldier. He’d looked barely eighteen. Threat or not, Chris hadn’t cared that he would be taking food—poisoned food—home to his family. To his baby.

  Anna had to act before it was too late. Her mind drifted back to Bob’s words: Do you think it’s possible to spot evil?

  At the very least Chris was ruthless.

  Anna wouldn’t make it on her own, but how could she ever trust another person?

  One day at a time.

  Firstly, she had to deal with Chris.

  Anna didn’t want to give up her own flat and leave, but Chris was the kind of woman who’d come back if shown the door. Back to take what wasn’t hers.

  At least if Anna were to leave, Chris wouldn’t know where to find her, wouldn’t have a reason to chase her, and Anna wouldn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder.

  Chris would cease being a danger.

  Anna gently pulled on a matted bit of fur behind Oreo’s ear and he playfully hit her chest with his paw. She tickled his feet and he pulled away. “What would you do?” she asked, and the dog yawned in reply.

  “Chris, I’m sorry but I can’t trust you and you have to leave.” Anna savoured each word, her stomach constricting at the thought of facing Chris.

  She’d never sleep soundly again. Always having to look over her shoulder. Always waiting for Chris to return.

  Anna sighed and patted Oreo’s back. “Looks like we’re the ones who have to leave.”

  Or…

  The voice in her mind piped up, and Anna squeezed her eyes shut.

  Or…

  Anna winced.

  Or…

  She didn’t want to face the thought buried in the dark recesses of her mind. Didn’t want to invite it to come closer. It hovered just outside of her reach, and Anna pressed her knuckles into her eyes.

  Or…

  It was the only way for her to keep her flat and feel safe.

  She had to—

  She had to kill Chris.

  Anna jumped to her feet, and Oreo flinched at the sudden movement. He scratched a spot behind his ear and yawned again.

  Anna curled her toes into the soft rug in front of her bed.

  No! You’re being unfair.


  Chris had done absolutely nothing to deserve Anna’s suspicions.

  Not only had the poor woman been forced to protect her son against a dangerous individual, but her husband had committed suicide, leaving her alone with her teenage son in a time of need.

  Chris had brought food and water with her and asked for a place to stay. She’d protected the flat, talked John out of taking everything from them and made sure he wouldn’t come back.

  She’d risked her life to get them more food from the Poundland warehouse.

  Chris had never even mentioned Anna’s neighbours—hadn’t shown the slightest interest in them. She hadn’t suggested stealing supplies from others.

  Instead, she’d spoken of finding a community. Growing food. Working together.

  How could Anna think of killing—murdering—her?

  “We’ll go to Pet’s Corner early tomorrow. Just the two of us.” She scratched behind Oreo’s ear and he gave her a long look as if questioning her logic. “Chris isn’t our enemy. Don’t worry. She’ll let us back in.”

  Oreo whined in reply.

  “Or maybe she won’t.”

  She had to kill Chris.

  A wave of nausea washed over her, and she put her hand over her mouth, swallowing the taste of bile. She was condemning a woman—a mother—to death because of her own fears.

  What about Tom?

  He was just a child. Only thirteen years old. Scared of his own mother. He’d given her a pleading look with red-rimmed eyes and told her to burn the note. He’d called his mother dangerous and implied that she’d killed his father.

  Anna groaned. “Oh, Sarah. Where are you? I need your help.”

  She couldn’t find Sarah without leaving her flat, and if she left her flat Chris could barricade the door.

  She had to kill Chris.

  Only then would she feel safe.

  Perhaps Tom could help. Could she trust hi—

  Of course not.

  Anna buried her face in her hands. What was she thinking?

  Chris was his mum. He’d stand by her. And Anna couldn’t murder a child.

  She flinched as if physically pained by the thoughts circling around in her mind.

  No. She had to leave the flat. Find someplace else to make a home. She wasn’t a murderer. She’d never even hit anyone. If she stayed, she’d never be safe, and she wasn’t willing to go that far to survive.