When Darkness Falls, Book 2

by Ryan Casey

  But he was already gone.

  He was already gone…

  Jon took a sharp, deep breath and put the gun into his pocket. He looked at Paul, then at the rest of his people, who were all looking at him with that same curiosity, kind of like they’d witnessed the real him for the first time.

  “Get back inside. And get these two back in the caravan.”

  He walked away. He didn’t want to waste another second speaking to these people. He needed to get inside. He needed to get to safety.

  “They’ll be back, you know?” Paul said.

  Jon looked at him. Narrowed his eyes. Part of him wanted to punch him. The other part of him wanted to punch Paul for what he’d done. For sparking this whole sorry mess in the first place.

  But he didn’t sell out his own.

  He just didn’t.

  “I know they will,” Jon said.

  He looked into Suzy’s eyes.

  “And we’ll be ready. We’ll be more than ready.”

  He reached back into his pocket and lifted out his pistol.

  He knew the end was coming.

  And he was going to be ready for it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “I mean it just doesn’t make sense, Alex. It just doesn’t. You drag us all the way out here and then turn away. Then you drag us all the way back and get one of us captured. And then you turn away again. I’m starting to wonder whether you have any idea what you’re actually doing at all, or whether you’re just winging it as you go.”

  I listened to Peter’s complaints and I couldn’t deny feeling a smug sense of satisfaction that I knew something he didn’t. I’d seen something he hadn’t. And it was going to be a risk. It was going to be a gamble. But it was the best option we had.

  The last option we had.

  “I mean… they aren’t just gonna let us walk back there anymore. You have to know that. It’s like… we’re on last chance saloon. Serious last chance saloon. You must see that. Alex?”

  I turned and looked at Peter, smiling.

  He looked back at me, bafflement in his eyes. “What’s got into you?”

  I looked around at the trees. I was keeping to a pretty straight path. After all, there had to be a sign of what I was looking for around here somewhere.

  “You didn’t see it?” I said.

  Peter shook his head. “Didn’t see what?”

  “Then clearly you didn’t see it.”

  “Look, can you just quit being cryptic and be straight with me. Didn’t see what?”

  I looked around some more. I just wanted to find it now. Because I knew that as dangerous as it was, as much of a risk as it was… it provided us with another opportunity. Another chance.

  “There was a drain cover just inside the campsite.”

  Peter looked at me blankly. “What?”

  “A drain cover. Which suggests a tunnel system running right under the ground.”

  Peter sighed. He put his face in his hands, shook his head. “So let me get this straight, Alex. Because I dunno but I’m feeling like… like I’ve misunderstood, somehow. But what you’re saying is… there’s a drain cover inside their camp. And that’s your big discovery? That’s your big revelation?”

  “If there’s a cover inside the camp, there’ll be one outside it too. A tunnel system. It won’t be pleasant. And they might already be waiting for us. But it’s the best chance we’ve got.”

  Peter shook his head. “Like you say. It’s a long shot.”

  “But what other chance do we have, really?”

  Peter opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, then he closed it and sighed. “You know, when I first let you into that motorhome of mine, I had a feeling about you.”

  “A feeling?”

  “I thought you seemed alright. Level-headed. I’m usually a good judge of character. Should’ve known you were a grade-A idiot the second you went all Mission Impossible on me and broke out of the motorhome while I was driving.”

  I smiled. Peter was smiling too. And that summarised our friendship, really.

  “We’ve had our differences,” I said.

  “And we always will, no doubt.”

  “But we still get things done. When we really see each other’s outlooks… when we work together, we get things done. And you have to believe me. You have to trust me. This is the right thing to do.”

  Peter sighed. He shook his head. “I don’t blindly trust people. Never have. Mostly because blindly trusting people usually gets me into shit and the other person ends up walking away scot-free.”

  “But I guess I’m not blindly trusting you. Because in a way, I trust your judgement. Might make me a madman. Might make me an idiot. But hell. I trust you. And I hate that I do.”

  He laughed then. And I laughed too.

  I put out a hand for him.

  He put his hand in mine and shook.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find this tunnel of yours.”

  It was a whole hour later that we found the entrance to the sewage system.

  If only I knew what waited at the other side…

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  When we stepped inside the sewer, the first thing that struck me was predictable, really.

  Just how goddamned bad it smelled.

  The darkness was intense. I could hear dripping water everywhere. I could even hear scuttling. Every now and then, I swore I saw movement, and I knew what it would be. Rats. Rats feasting on waste that had been rotting down here for months.

  So much dead stuff. It was a good job it was so dark, really. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what was ahead of us.

  But the smell… the smell was the stuff of nightmares. It was like everything bad you’ve ever imagined, all rotted and congealed together. I threw up right away, and that didn’t help matters, the taste of acidy bile clinging to my throat.

  But this was going to have to be done.

  I was going to have to make my way through this tunnel if I wanted to succeed and get back to Sarah and my people.

  Because one thing was for sure.

  I’d do anything to get to them.

  I’d do anything to take down Jon.

  “Well I’ll tell you one thing,” Peter said. “You were right. I can’t see Jon’s lot willingly coming down here all too often.”

  He gagged, and I swore I heard him throw up all over again. As disgusting as it was, I couldn’t help but smile. Poor Peter. He hated being out of his comfort zone. He must really, really hate me sometimes.

  The water beneath our feet was thick and slimy. I could feel it sticking to my jeans, soaking through. Every now and then, I felt a solid, and I dreaded to think what it may be. A dead rat. Or worse, a dead person.

  There was one thing for sure. This place was surely absolutely disease ridden. We were mad to be down here, especially with the world in the state it was in already. Absolute madness.

  But hell. We were here and we were going to achieve what we wanted to achieve.

  And what was it we wanted to achieve?

  Safety for our people.

  And revenge.

  I couldn’t pretend that revenge wasn’t still at the forefront of my desires. But it had softened, somewhat. I’d seen the problems that lust for vengeance had caused me; I’d seen the issues that came with it and the problematic situations it got me and everyone else in and I knew I couldn’t let it define me, not forever.

  But at the same time… I felt like I owed it to Bobby to take Jon down. I felt like I owed it to him to punish him for what he’d done.

  Maybe it was a little psychotic of me. It was certainly short-sighted, no doubt about that. Because I’d seen that look in Jon’s eyes and I knew that he wanted revenge, too. Revenge for something. Revenge against someone for whatever they’d done to him.

  And even though I was certain I wasn’t the one he really had his sights set on… he was using me as a vessel for his own revenge. Just like I was using him.

&nbs
p; But that didn’t matter.

  Because I was going to win this one.

  “How sure are you that we’re going the right way, anyway?” Peter asked.

  I tried to speak, but every time I did, I gagged. He had a point, though. I was following the tunnel system, but there was no guarantee I was going to lead us both in the right direction. Who was to say we were going the right way at all?

  Who was to say we weren’t just on a pathway to suffocating down here?

  The hairs on my arms began to stand on end as the thoughts spiralled around my mind. What if we were lost down here? What if we never found our way out or if every single drain cover were locked down?

  What an awful way to go.

  What a horrible way to die.

  Would we resort to drinking the filthy, disease-infested water?

  Would we resort to eating each other?

  “Look,” Peter said.

  I didn’t know what he was talking about, drawing attention to. Not at first.

  But then I saw in the darkness that he was pointing directly above.

  And when I looked up, my body tingled with anticipation.

  There was a light.

  I felt warmth inside. It didn’t feel like we’d travelled far enough, but then I couldn’t be sure as I’d lost all sense of time.

  There was a chance that this was our exit. A chance that this was the way into the camp.

  “I’ll climb the ladder,” I said. “Check it out.”

  “Be careful,” he said. “They might be—”

  He stopped then and I knew why, right away.

  The splash.

  The splashing of water inside the sewerage tunnel.

  We were both silent. Silent, but for our heavy exhalations.

  Then Peter whispered, “Please tell me you didn’t hear that and it was all just in my mind?”

  I kept quiet. Kept still. We both listened for the splashing again.

  But we didn’t hear anything.

  And because of that, I steadied my grip on the ladder up to the opening, and I climbed.

  The closer I got to the light, the more nervous I got about my situation, my predicament. What if this was the wrong call? What if this exit took me somewhere totally unexpected; somewhere even worse than Jon’s camp? Or what if it did take me out in Jon’s camp, but once I got there I was shot on sight?

  What then?

  My thoughts subsided when I heard the voices above.

  I kept still. Very still.

  And I listened.

  There was talking. A man’s voice. Deep.

  I wasn’t sure if it was Jon. But there was one thing for sure.

  I heard what he was saying.

  “Make sure Suzy’s comfortable. We don’t treat our guests like slaves.”

  Suzy.

  This was it.

  This was the place.

  I looked down at Peter and I saw his outline in the darkness.

  “This is it,” I whispered.

  He looked back up at me. And as I went to smile, I saw a look in his eyes. A look of cautiousness, but also a look of relief. “We’ve made it,” he said. “At least, we’ve made the easy part. Now for the—”

  He stopped.

  Out of nowhere, I heard the blast.

  Then another blast.

  I saw the sprays of blood from each of his thighs.

  Then I saw him fall down into the water.

  Someone was on him.

  Someone was holding him down.

  I saw him struggling. Saw him kicking out, spluttering up the shitty, rotten water.

  And then I saw the man holding him down and every muscle in my body went weak.

  “I told you not to come back here,” Jon said, as he held down a bleeding Peter in the water, Peter’s splashes getting more desperate, more intense.

  I threw myself down the ladder. But I hit the ground at an angle. And when I landed, I felt a snapping in my ankle.

  I was down.

  I was screwed.

  I saw Jon looking into my eyes as he held onto Peter. I saw the gun pointing right at me, as Peter’s struggles got weaker.

  And I saw the look in Jon’s eyes as he looked back at me.

  “Run, rabbit,” he said. “Run.”

  I wanted to throw myself at him.

  I wanted to help Peter.

  But Peter had already stopped struggling.

  And Jon was right opposite me.

  Part of me wanted to get him. To throw myself at him and attempt my revenge, once and for all.

  But the other part of me…

  That part of me knew that I had to play this right.

  I had to stay alive.

  I had to win this.

  For my people.

  For my family.

  “Come on,” Jon said, as Peter’s body went totally still in the murky water. “If you want to have a go, have a go.”

  I was so tempted.

  Every muscle in my body was telling me to run at him, to get him, to punish him for what he’d done.

  But all I could do was look at Peter’s still body.

  And all I could think was what might happen to the rest of the people I cared about if I fell into his trap.

  So I dragged myself to my feet.

  I clutched my sore leg.

  I resisted the urge to throw myself at him again.

  Then I turned and I jogged as hard as I could on my wounded leg back into the darkness.

  I’d never felt more lost in my entire life.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I wished there was more I could do.

  That was one thought I had. The one pervading thought, as I dragged my shit-sogged body out of that hole in the ground. The one thought I had, as I stood there in the pouring rain, alone, far away from everybody, far away from even the hope of reuniting with everybody.

  I cared so much about Sarah. I cared so much about the rest of my people.

  And I was letting them down because I was walking away.

  But why was I walking away?

  I was walking away because I didn’t have any other choice.

  I was literally out of options. Out of ideas.

  I was out of spirit.

  So I got to work because getting to work seemed like the only thing I could do. The only way I could distract myself from the thoughts that were spiralling around my mind. I didn’t want to give up. Giving up was the last thing I wanted.

  But what else could I do?

  Jon had threatened Sarah. He’d threatened Suzy, Ellie, Will and Kaileigh.

  And he’d killed Peter.

  Shot him in both of his legs then left him to drown right in that awful, murky water. The worst possible way to go.

  If I had any doubts about just how bad Peter really was, they had gone up in smoke right at that moment.

  Because there was no real reason for him to do that. Peter was a good man. An innocent man.

  And regardless of what Jon thought about me—no matter what his obsession was with making me suffer—he had brutally murdered Peter.

  There was no way I could’ve just done that to one of his people.

  At least… not before now, anyway.

  Now, I wanted to make all of them suffer.

  But I couldn’t.

  I just couldn’t.

  I got to work constructing a shelter out of long branches of wood, leaves, moss and tarpaulin. I don’t know why I was making something that seemed so permanent. I guess really, I should get out of the woods, get looking for somewhere to gather some supplies that would help me hunt. But no. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t thirsty, either.

  I just wanted to make this shelter and then…

  Well.

  And then I don’t know what I was going to do.

  I was out of everything.

  When I finished the shelter, totally drenched—albeit somewhat relieved to have the mounds of shit washed off me—I looked at it before getting under it. And as I looked at it
, I thought about what Sarah had said to me, long ago, right when the end times began.

  She’d told me that I always got myself into trouble. That my selfishness got in the way. That it tore me apart, and the people around me apart.

  And the more I thought about it, the more I realised it was true.

  And as I stood there, tears beginning to form—as much as I wanted to resist them—I thought about those words and I realised the truth in them. Because they were true. There was no denying it.

  And as much as I wanted to resist… I realised another truth, too.

  I could’ve kept Bobby alive.

  I could’ve kept him safe.

  I could’ve let him stay in mine and Sarah’s room.

  I could’ve let him go out and look at the stars like he always did.

  I could’ve done so much differently.

  But I hadn’t.

  I hadn’t.

  And this was where I was.

  This was where it’d all got me.

  Alone.

  I punched the shelter I’d built. Out of nowhere, just punched it.

  Then I hit it again. And again. I felt my knuckles splintering. I felt blood begin to run down my hand. But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything anymore because I was alone and my people were away from me and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing.

  So I kept on punching and punching until there was nothing left but broken wood.

  Then I sat there on my knees, covered in the pouring rain, and I looked up at the clouds above.

  I’d done this.

  I’d caused this.

  And there was nothing I could do about it.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Forty

  Sarah sat in the dark silence of the caravan and she knew her days were numbered.

  She knew she shouldn’t be so negative or so pessimistic. After all, she’d been here for days already. She hadn’t suffered anything. Hadn’t been through anything. And as far as she was aware, nobody around her had, either.

  It would’ve been nice to be able to talk… alas, they were all gagged. The windows of the caravan were boarded up. There was a faint crack in one of the boards, which light shone through grubby curtains on its way in. She didn’t like that light. It reminded her of where she was, of the situation she was in.