When Darkness Falls, Book 2

by Ryan Casey

  I stood up and I took a deep breath. I shook my head. “You might be able to move on but I can’t.”

  “I didn’t say anything about moving on,” Sarah said, her voice quivering. “Don’t do that to me. Don’t dare imply that I’m not feeling what has happened in some way. Because I am. I really am. But I just don’t see where vengeance is going to take us. The only place it’s going to take you is… is to your grave. You need to let it go, Alex. You need to let it go.”

  She took both of my hands in hers. And as she held them there, looking into my eyes, I believed for a second that perhaps I could do things differently. Perhaps we could move on together. Perhaps I could let my vengeance go, and start grieving properly.

  But then I took a deep breath and I shook my head.

  I squeezed Sarah’s hands gently.

  “I see I’ve been acting vengefully. I can see the danger I’ve put myself in, and other people. I can see that. Really.”

  Hope in Sarah’s eyes.

  I let go of her hands. “But I can’t give up. Not while he’s still breathing out there, scot-free. Not while the man who killed our son is getting away with it. Because he doesn’t get to be the one to end this, Sarah. Whoever it is, he doesn’t get to be the one who ends this. I have to look him in the eyes and I have to make that decision.”

  I thought Sarah was going to protest. But in the end, she just looked down at the ground below and sighed.

  “I’m going to go back to Jon’s camp and I’m going alone. I’m going to meet with the man who killed our son. I’m going to end this, one way or another. Once and for all.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  The afternoon was growing late and I was on my own again.

  Only this time, I knew I was on a very different journey.

  A journey I might not be returning from.

  But a journey that was going to give me what I needed.

  I was certain about it.

  The rain was heavy and loud, the noise covering up my footsteps slushing through the muddy ground. I kept low, moved swiftly and stealthily as I got closer and closer to Jon’s camp, knife in hand. I knew there was a good chance he’d see me before I approached. He had done on several separate occasions already, so there was a strong possibility there was someone out here in the woods, just waiting for me to walk into the dragon’s den again.

  But this time I was going to make sure I wasn’t caught.

  This time, I was going to try something different.

  This time, I was going to get inside, and I was going to face off with the killer of my son once and for all.

  I squinted ahead through the rain as I kept on moving further through the woods. It felt like I had walked this route so many times. Although deep down, something inside told me that I wouldn’t be walking this route again. That I would be going in another direction or no direction at all.

  I thought back to Sarah, Suzy, Ellie, Kaileigh and Will. I thought about where they’d be right now. Whether they’d be okay. I knew deep down, they would, because they were strong. Far stronger than I’d ever been.

  My wife was my rock. I loved her for her forgiving ways. For the way she was willing to move on from the person who had caused the tragedy we’d been through.

  But I wasn’t willing to make that same step.

  It was just too difficult to face.

  I knew the logic to what my wife was saying. Hunting down Jon and his people wasn’t going to bring Bobby back to life. It wasn’t going to spark some kind of huge change inside me that made me suddenly so capable of dealing with life’s problems. I knew that. I wasn’t naive.

  But it was going to give me peace to look the man who’d killed my son in the eye.

  It was going to give me peace to make him apologise for what he’d done.

  And after that…

  I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I couldn’t lie. My mind was still fantasising over the idea of dangling hope right before him… then taking it all away.

  I knew, as I waded through the mud, getting closer and closer to Jon’s camp, that I’d come a long way in the short time since my son had died. I knew I’d started off blinded and wandering waywardly for some kind of release. I knew I’d changed to focusing my vengeance, to getting more clever with my plans.

  But I saw who I was now.

  I was determined to enact this vengeance, one way or another, even though I’d learned to separate it from my planning.

  My family was safe.

  My friends were safe.

  Knowing that gave me the freedom to do what I had to do.

  I stopped when I saw movement right ahead.

  I stepped behind a tree. Held my breath. Rain fell down heavier from above.

  Then I peeked around the tree.

  There was a man standing there. He was wearing a thick black coat, long waterproof trousers and walking boots.

  I recognised him.

  One of the people who had been with Jon that night he’d first arrived at our homestead.

  I tensed my fists together, lifting my knife. I took a few deep breaths, bringing my heart rate back to a more normal level.

  I felt my jaw tightening. My body tensing.

  And as I sat there and I held onto my knife, I knew one thing for certain.

  I’d made it.

  This was Jon’s camp, and I’d made it.

  So what next?

  Another tingling sensation shot up my spine as deep down, I realised what this meant; I realised what I had to do.

  I sat down, right down on my knees, and I waited, holding onto my knife.

  It was almost time to begin.

  It was almost time to go inside and face off with my son’s killer once and for all.

  But first… I had to wait.

  I had to wait for the right moment.

  The perfect moment.

  And then…

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Paul Walsh never liked the darkness.

  He didn’t like it before the EMP struck. Something about it sent a shot of unease right through him. He figured it was something to do with his childhood. Never liked it as a kid right from the time he got lost in the woods. Was out walking with his dad. Said he was going to hide in the trees. He had done many times, after all, and it was always good fun.

  But this one time, he’d hid for ages and ages. And he saw the sky was going dark. His patience was beginning to grow thin. But he knew he had to stay hidden because this was always part of the game, always part of the joke.

  But it’d been a long, long time. And still no sign of his dad.

  He’d gone out to look for him. And when he hadn’t found him anywhere, he’d started to get worried, started to panic.

  And all the while, the darkness was closing in, growing more and more suffocating…

  In the end, he’d found out that his dad had just headed back to the caravan they were staying in. It was a big joke all along. His dad had got grilled by his mum of course. But his dad didn’t seem too bothered. He’d howled and cried with laughter at Paul’s misfortune.

  Thirty-something years later and as Paul stood outside Jon’s camp, the trees standing tall above, the darkness growing ever more black, Paul still felt that same sense of fear he’d felt all those years ago.

  “What’s bothering you anyway?”

  He turned to his right. Terry was beside him. Terry was a big man, bulky, with weathered old skin. He’d look more at home beside a swimming pool in Benidorm than right here in the forest. Looked out of place.

  But again. He was a big man. He could defend himself, no doubt about that. So he was a handy guy to be standing in the woods with.

  “Nothing,” Paul said.

  “Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you’re twitching. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Hell, anyone would notice. What’s got into you?”

  Paul looked into the trees. He couldn’t deny there was something on his mind. Something bothering him. And yet he couldn’t p
ut his finger on what it was, exactly. After all, they’d been through a lot. They’d been surviving in this world for six months now. They’d seen all kinds of things; done all kinds of things. Things that Paul—a man who used to work in a car garage doing repairs, a very cushy existence to say the least—wasn’t supposed to ever have to witness or go through in his lifetime.

  And despite all these things, he looked into those trees and he felt like something was watching. Like something was coming.

  He looked up at the storm clouds, which looked solid and primed to break, like large blocks of ice waiting to be cracked.

  “I think it’s just the storm,” he said.

  Terry puffed out his lips. He was holding onto an axe. It was more a display than anything; a show of force to ward anyone off. Because even though they had used their weapons, it was to be a last resort. That was something Jon had always made sure was instilled in them.

  But even so… Jon was a man of double-standards. Jon was a man who had kept someone prisoner for… well, dubious reasons. He was a man who had been keeping another group prisoner because of their association with that bloke called Alex, who he’d had a run in with.

  “The storm,” Terry said. “Yeah, right. It’s those women and kids you’re worried about, isn’t it?”

  Paul wasn’t worried about the escapees, per se. After all, they’d managed to get away. So they’d be much better off if they stayed far away now they’d got away. How they’d got away was another matter entirely. Had someone helped them escape? Or was it simply a case of them finding their way out of that caravan? It was hardly a fortress. And in a way, Paul wondered whether the opportunity of escape had been there all along. Because he didn’t know what Jon had planned for them, really. He didn’t know what his intention was with them.

  Just that it couldn’t be good.

  “My philosophy in life,” Terry said, “is to live in the moment. To let these damned things go. They’ll rot out there, that’s for sure. And when they do, they’ll realise they shoulda stuck here all along. They’ll realise they shoulda stuck around and begged for Jon’s help. Because he woulda fed um. He woulda kept um safe, in a weird way. And hell. I woulda kept um warm, all of um, if y’know what I mean.”

  He gave Paul a sinister look. A predatory look.

  Paul looked away, shook his head. “Two of them were kids.”

  “Well, hell. This is a new world. Those were the rules of the old world. The way I see it, the sooner you break um in, the better.”

  He laughed, like it was a seriously good joke he’d come up with. One Paul could laugh along with.

  Paul felt sick.

  “Oh, lighten up. They’re all gonna die, like I say. And what’s another dead kid to you in the grand scheme of things, really?”

  “You’re a prick, you know that?”

  Terry narrowed his eyes. To be honest, Paul wasn’t sure where he’d found the courage to say those words either; to stand up to Terry.

  “You what?”

  There was no backing away now. “I said you’re a prick. An insensitive prick. Jon… he’s troubled, but his head’s in the right place. But this. What you’re talking about… you’re twisted.”

  Terry squared up to him. Paul could smell the sourness on his breath.

  “Is that so?” he said. “I’m the twisted one, am I?”

  Paul tried to hold eye contact with Terry. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

  “After everything you’ve done, and it’s me that’s the twisted one?”

  Paul looked at him this time and he waited for him to say it. He waited for him to say the words. To confirm exactly what he was to him all over again.

  “Because really, when you look at it, I’m just saying things. But you’ve done things, Paul. You’ve done things. Don’t ever forget th—”

  Paul wasn’t sure what happened next.

  He wasn’t sure what’d stopped Terry speaking so suddenly.

  All he saw was his old eyes widening in horror.

  Then he saw blood trickling out of his lips, then pooling down his chin, and then his big old body tumbling to the ground.

  He looked down at Terry’s body. He didn’t feel fear. He didn’t feel any urgency to get away.

  He just felt… relieved, somewhat.

  Then he looked up and saw the man standing over Terry.

  He was looking right into Paul’s eyes. He had a knife in his hand. Covered in blood.

  “This is how it’s going to go,” he said, pulling back his knife and pressing it to Paul’s neck. “You’re going to get me inside. You’re going to take me to Jon. And we’re going to get to the bottom of who killed my son, once and for all.”

  Paul wanted to tell this man that he couldn’t take him to Jon.

  He wanted to tell him there was nothing he could do.

  But in the end he found himself nodding.

  In spite of everything, he found himself nodding.

  But deep down, he heard Terry’s voice echoing in his skull, as he led the man—Alex—towards his camp.

  Because Paul was the one who’d broken into Alex’s homestead.

  And Paul was the one who had killed Alex’s son.

  And Alex had a knife to his neck.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Sarah wasn’t sure how long they’d been walking.

  She wasn’t sure where they were.

  She wasn’t sure where they were going to end up.

  And she didn’t know how Alex was, which was what got to her more than anything, perhaps.

  But she did know one thing.

  She was going to make this.

  They were all going to make it.

  Together.

  The sky was dark, and they’d been walking for quite some time. It felt like they were going round in circles, as they passed through more trees, more woods. She longed for the cities, in a way. Not cities how they were now, but cities how they used to be. Bustling with life. The smells of fried food being pumped out onto the streets, the chit-chat in the background, the cars driving along, all of it so energised, all of it so alive.

  It wasn’t like she’d ever been a city girl. She’d always preferred the quiet and the solitude of the countryside. Helped her be more mindful, more present with her thoughts.

  But there was that longing for connection radiating through her. The desire for something more than what she had. And she knew if she went to its roots, it was a longing to be back with her son on their trips to the city, holding hands, having a good time.

  She wanted to fill that gap with something. Anything.

  But she never would.

  She never would.

  “How much further before we take some rest?”

  She saw Ellie by her side. She didn’t know Ellie too well. Knew her the least out of anyone, in fact. She wasn’t a talker. Seemed a silent type. Short, quite thick build, with a distinctive bruise on her forehead that Sarah figured she’d “acquired” in the conflict with Jon somewhere along the road.

  She looked ahead into the darkness. “I don’t know,” she said. And she was telling the truth. Part of her was just hoping that Alex would return to their lives to give them some kind of direction. Not that she was reliant on her husband—he was a bloody nightmare. But him being away brought an air of temporary to their current situation.

  Like they were just passing time until the next milestone.

  “Well there’s two kids with us and they’re getting tired. So we’re going to have to look at stopping soon.”

  Sarah nodded. She stopped walking, and only then realised just how sore her feet actually were, and how long they must’ve been walking.

  “Looks like someone else needs to take a break too,” Ellie said, smile on her face.

  Sarah nodded. “I’ll rest when…”

  She didn’t finish. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, exactly.

  Ellie put a hand on her shoulder. “He’s a wild one, your hubby. But he’ll come back.”


  “What makes you so sure?”

  “I looked him in the eye when we took him in. Nice way of saying ‘when we captured him’, by the way. Got a nice ring to it. But anyway. He was feral, then. Like a cat that’d been kicked out and forced to live in the wild for God knows how long. But he’s not the same guy anymore. I could tell the difference when we saw him again. He doesn’t look as reckless. Looks like he knows what he’s doing. Guess he’s found a way to channel his grief.”

  Sarah lowered her head. “Wish I could find a way to channel mine.”

  “You will. We all do. We’ve just got to find our own ways. Alex will find his. And then he’ll find his way back here. Don’t you—”

  “Look.”

  Suzy’s voice cut through their conversation.

  Sarah didn’t know what she was talking about at first. She didn’t know what she was referring to.

  “What’re you…”

  “Over there. Look.”

  Sarah squinted into the distance, still unsure of what Suzy was drawing her attention to.

  But when she saw it… she understood.

  She realised exactly why Suzy was drawing attention to it.

  A light.

  She narrowed her eyes, looked closer at the light. How was it possible? All the power was out. Unless it was a torch.

  But even if it was a torch or a flame or something… that meant…

  “There must be someone there,” Ellie said.

  Sarah studied the light. The other two stood close to her, the kids standing behind. All five of them kept close, keeping their guard up, scanning the surrounding area. Everywhere Sarah looked, she felt like she could see people looking at her, watching her.

  “What’s your call?” Ellie asked.

  Sarah looked around again. She tried to tell herself that the people she thought she was seeing were just her imagination. She tried to believe that the people who were here—if there were any here at all—could be good people. She tried to convince herself. Tried to believe it.