by Ryan Casey
When Darkness Falls
Book One
Ryan Casey
Higher Bank Books
Contents
Bonus Content
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
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Prologue
No generation ever thinks they are really going to witness the end times.
Of course, there are discussions of potential apocalyptic events. There are nightmarish stories of impending nuclear war; of close collisions with asteroids; of avian influenza and looming pandemics. But even so, even if these seemingly disastrous scare stories are within the realms of possibility, nobody really believes they stand a chance of happening. Not really. They are just a way of exposing ourselves to just how vulnerable a world, galaxy, universe we live in.
But we will be safe.
We watch television and lock our doors and tell ourselves we will be safe.
And if we keep on doing that enough, we just about believe it.
But we are not safe.
The world really is as dangerous as the sensationalist documentaries make it out to be. The universe is even more unstable than we realise.
And sometimes, the danger and the uncertainty comes from the most unexpected of places…
Even in 2017, the vast majority of the population aren’t aware of what an EMP—or electromagnetic pulse—is. Ask someone in the street, they’ll likely give you a funny look and go back to their instant messaging, their bitching about the neighbours, their worrying about whether they’ll make it home in time for their parcel delivery. And yet at the same time, they are aware of the threat terrorism poses. They are aware of global warming and nuclear arms races. They are aware of swine flu, SARS, and all of those things that could potentially rear their heads and take their lives.
But an EMP? One of the gravest real threats to the existence of humanity?
Most people won’t even remember the acronym by the time they get home.
Ask most people about the Carrington Event of 1859 and they likely won’t be aware of what that was either, even though it might just be one of the most significant events in history. The basics? A massive coronal mass ejection from the sun hit the Earth’s magnetosphere, causing the largest solar storm on record. Auroras were visible all over the world. Eyewitnesses working in the gold mines of the Rocky Mountains claimed the glow was so bright that they all arose and started preparing their day’s breakfast, believing the light to be from the sun.
But what’s the problem with a little light? Why is it such a threat? Such a disaster?
The solar storm of 1859 didn’t just cause global auroras. Telegraph systems all over Europe and North America failed, too. In many cases, the telegraph operators were given electric shocks, some of them fatal. Telegraph pylons sparked and exploded. Houses burned down, and the roads were filled with a mass of wrecked wires, like entrails spilling out the body of an underdeveloped beast.
The impact of the solar event wasn’t particularly long-lasting. Mostly because electricity wasn’t widespread at the time. It was nowhere near as developed as it is today. Infrastructure wasn’t even close to what it was. There were no cars on the streets, no flashing billboards on the sides of buildings, no mass of wires inside each and every home, the blue glow of the television screens still not even a twinkle in humanity’s collective imaginary eye.
But today, there is an interconnected network everywhere you go. Not only that, but there are personal devices, like mobile phones, digital watches, tablet computers, laptops. There are digital car radios, fitness trackers, wireless headphones. All of these seemingly personal devices, all hooked up to a hub of connectivity, and all linked by one common purpose.
Power.
Many experts believe that if the Carrington Event of 1859 had taken place in a modern society, the fallout would’ve been catastrophic. Better infrastructure means more of a risk from the effects of an EMP. And as much as you might try to tell yourself at night that you’ll be fine, you live in a modern world so you’ll be safe… you couldn’t be more wrong.
The universe doesn’t hold its breath just because humanity doesn’t like the stench of it.
It almost did happen again. In 2012, a solar storm occurred of a similar magnitude to the one of 1859. But this storm narrowly passed Earth’s orbit. Instead of sparking the world’s greatest institutions into safeguarding for a repeat event, it did the exact opposite—it made humanity lazy. The air of invincibility was cast over humanity. Scientists believed that this would be the last CME of its scale for quite some time, and certainly the last one to pass by the Earth so closely. CMEs are a relatively regular occurrence in solar terms. There were no worries that anything as big as the one of 1859 or 2012 would come close, not again.
So people went home, locked their doors, watched television, went to sleep.
They told themselves they were safe. That everyone was safe.
And they believed it. Deep down, they believed it.
Because nothing was tearing humanity apart.
Nothing was breaking through humanity’s invincibility.
Nothing.
Until now.
Chapter One
If there was anything worse in life than being stuck in traffic, I hadn’t encountered it yet.
Oh. Wait a sec. Being stuck in traffic when you were running late for an interview for a position you’d been chasing for the best part of five years?
Yeah. That just about did it, Alex.
I looked at the clock on the dashboard of my Range Rover. Ten to ten. Shit. I had ten minutes to make it to the offices. And as it stood, it didn’t look like I was even close. Would it be wrong to just jump out of my car and leave it here? I mean, it’d get taken away. I’d probably be banned from driving for God knows how long. But at least I’d be a shoe in for the promotion. Maybe it was a sacrifice worth taking. Maybe.
I rubbed my fingers through my thick brown hair as I looked out of the windscreen. The summer sun beat down strong against the glass. I had the air con on full blast, but it didn’t seem to be working as effectively as it had in the past. Another thing I’d have to get sorted. That was the problem with all this fancy equipment and technology. It required more maintenance. I longed for a world where we relied on as few tools as possible; literally just the necessities,
and a few luxuries, of course. Like beans on toast with mini sausages. Because what kind of a world would deny a man of such decadence?
I looked around at the traffic, which was at a total standstill in both directions. There’d been some kind of accident, and coupled up with the roadworks that constantly plagued the north west lately, things weren’t going anywhere.
The worst part? I could actually see the Chester Post offices in the distance. If I squinted enough, I was sure I’d see Jeff in there, pacing around, looking at his watch, trying to figure out where I was and why I was running late.
Jeff. Shit. I could call him. Tell him I was stuck in the very traffic he could see right outside his window. Surely that had to count for something.
I put the phone to my ear and waited for Jeff to answer.
The phone didn’t even make a dialling tone.
“Shit,” I said. I pulled the phone from my ear. No signal. “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”
It was rare to be in a no signal zone around Chester. So the fact that I was in one now just added fuel to the fire that the gods were working against me somehow.
I just had to hold it together. Just had to keep my cool.
I’d been working at the Post for eight years. For five of those, I’d been eyeing up the position of Crime Editor. But that was Hannah Wallright’s territory, and who was I to stamp on her feet? I loved writing. It always had been a passion of mine, ever since graduating from uni nine years ago with a first in Journalism. I’d thrown myself headfirst in trying to gain some experience. When I’d first joined the Post, I hadn’t intended it to be a long-term thing. Just something to add to my CV.
But they liked me there. They respected me. And Jeff—the editor of the paper—told me he saw a great future ahead for me, even if the paper itself was going the path of all print media in the late 2010s. He also told me I was frontrunner for Crime Editor when Hannah left.
So here I was, eight years later, still holding on to hope.
Only Hannah hadn’t left. She’d died. Heart attack, very sudden and unexpected. Hit her poor family for six.
Of course, I’d felt sympathy for the family. Hannah was a good person. A little blunt, but still amicable enough.
But naturally, it was just the way the world worked that right away, I’d seen an opportunity open up. An opportunity to gain that promotion I’d been promised for years. An opportunity to add to my responsibilities and in turn, add to my payslip.
I just wanted to make Sarah and Bobby proud.
I looked at the time again. Five to ten now. Shit. I’d barely moved an inch, either.
This was a desperate measures situation. I was going to have to make a move. I had to make some kind of decision, even if it seemed mad.
My future depended on it.
My family’s future depended on it.
I rolled down my window and leaned out. I could see an outside lane that had mostly been blocked by selfish drivers in the lane I was in.
But there was a lane there.
So there was no stopping me going down it.
Right?
I swallowed a lump in my throat, the tension building in my chest.
It might be reckless. Dangerous, even.
But I wasn’t breaking the law.
I was just doing what had to be done.
Even if I did nick a few wing mirrors in the process.
“Screw it,” I said. “Screw it.”
I took a deep breath.
Then I turned the car out into the outside lane and drove down it as quickly as I could.
I heard a barrage of horns as I ploughed down it, getting nearer to the turn in the road that I had to take. I heard shouting, cursing. I swore I felt a few wing mirrors nick the paintwork of my car.
But none of that mattered.
I could touch up the paintwork.
And the drivers to my left… well, they could figure a way to sort their problems too.
I had somewhere important to be.
And I wasn’t holding back.
I got to the end of the road and turned back into the lane I’d been in. I jumped through the temporary lights while they were on amber, nearly knocking down a road worker in the process. But after that, sweat dripping down my neck, I was on the home run.
I turned into the car park, ignoring the need to indicate. I pulled into a parking space—well, across one line, but that didn’t matter. Then I gathered my laptop bag and rushed out of the car, jogging my way towards work.
When I got there, I saw the lift was open and waiting for me. I looked at my watch. Two minutes to go. I could make it. I could do this.
I ran into the lift and hit the button for the fourth floor.
I started to relax, then, taking long, deep breaths. Everything was in order. Everything was under control.
Then I saw a woman jogging towards the lift.
The doors began to close.
“Hold that, please!” she called.
I looked at her.
Then at my watch.
Then at the doors.
And I did the worst thing.
I let those doors close.
She could find another way up. She could take the stairs.
She’d be fine. I had somewhere important to be.
When I reached the fourth floor, I rushed out of the lift and made my way towards the office where I knew my interview would be taking place.
Jeff was standing outside. He was a chubby man with curly hair and a big nose. His shirts always looked too constrictive even when they were just the right size. He waved at me. “Cutting it close, Alex,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, adjusting my hair. “My bad. But I’m here. That’s the main thing, right?”
“Just about. Come on. Take a seat. We’re just waiting on the independent interviewer to make her way here and then we should be all set to start.”
It didn’t register at first, as I sat down at the opposite side of Jeff’s desk. I was still so caught up in the crazy driving I’d pulled to get down here that it took a few seconds for me to comprehend what I’d just heard.
But when it hit, it hit in a big way.
I saw Jeff sitting in the seat opposite me.
But there was another seat, too. A vacant one.
“Independent interviewer?” I asked.
Jeff shook his head. “Don’t worry about her. You’ve got this in the bag. Be yourself, that’s all that matters. Well. Maybe not totally yourself, but you get what I mean. She’s just here to make sure you’re as good a dude as I say you are. She’s running late, though. Traffic bad, or something?”
My heart began to race.
It couldn’t be.
It was a coincidence. There was no way—
“Oh, never mind. She’s here now.”
I didn’t want to turn around as I heard the high heels against the hard floor.
I froze in my chair, hoping, praying that it wasn’t who I thought it was.
But when I turned, my fears were realised right away.
It was the woman who’d been running to catch the lift.
The woman who I’d let the door close on.
She looked at me with disdain in her eyes, like she’d recognised me right away.
“Everything okay, Sally?” Jeff asked.
Sally took a seat opposite me, not once taking her eyes off me. “Just fine,” she said. “Some rude bastard cut past me and scratched my car. And then someone didn’t hold the lift for me. But now I’m here… I have a feeling all this is going to be just fine.”
She smiled at me. “Shall we begin?
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
I knew I was screwed.
Chapter Two
Washington, D.C.
Sophie never ran for anything.
She never ran for the subway. She never ran when she was caught in a thunderstorm. She didn’t even run as exercise. She was fit and healthy enough as it was without having to put her body through that tort
ure.
But right now, she realised something peculiar.
She was running.
She’d lost all sense of what time of day it was, but she could only assume it was early morning. She’d been working a night shift. It was her job to study solar activity, log the many solar flares that were reported as occurring, things like that. Like earthquakes, solar flares were a lot more common than people thought. There can be as many as twenty of them a day.
It sounds scary on the surface. But really, when you saw just how frequent they were, it kind of desensitised you to their threat, in a way.
But it also made it all the more alarming when something truly, spectacularly disastrous came along.
And this was something disastrous.
Sophie knew she should wait before knocking on McDonnell’s office. After all, he always insisted on knocking, because he was likely absorbed in some high-intensity work or other.
But there was no time to knock. Not this time.
She turned the handle and walked straight in.
McDonnell looked up from his desk. He was a big man with a slicked back, ducks-ass hairstyle that was balding on top. His office smelled of sweat and a mixture of burped-up energy drinks. On his desk, various solar system paraphernalia like globes and mobiles of planets. This place really was an ode to the stars.
Sophie expected him to grill her right away. But he didn’t. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and studied her like he could tell there was something of serious concern on her mind.
