After the Storm (Book 1): Blackout

by Ryan Casey

  We stepped out of the caravan. I took a deep breath of the fresh air.

  “It can’t be long, can it?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure where the words came from. And I wasn’t sure what they meant. Not at first.

  “What can’t be long?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat and realised my reality was falling apart before my eyes. “This—this event. This EMP, or whatever caused this.”

  “EMP likely. Whether solar or weaponised, I’m not sure.”

  “I mean there has to be somewhere in Britain that made it. I know what the stories say. I know blackout means blackout. But… but they have to be close to resolving things. This isn’t just… it. Right?”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed. His face went a little pale. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  I frowned. “Know what.”

  He sighed. Looked around. “A woman passed by here not long ago. She had a radio. One that survived the fry.”

  “The fry?”

  “The event. Whatever you wanna call it. But anyway. She… she got a signal. Got a signal putting out news. A final message before their systems went down completely. I think there were a few EMPs, and that’s why it’s been so critical.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?”

  “I’m trying to tell you… the EMP strikes started in the early hours before they hit us. Britain. There—there were places in the world that were going down. There was news. News reports about global blackouts. Then countries going down, one by one.”

  The news made my brain feel like it was melting. “Wait… countries? But—”

  “This was a global rollout event, Will,” Mike said. “This wasn’t just a pulse that affected Scotland. It wasn’t just a few pulses that took out Britain. This was hours of pulses. And they took out the world.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Day Seven

  “I CAN TRAP JUST FINE, okay?”

  Mike snorted. “You can’t trap just fine.”

  “I’ve made it this far.”

  “Yeah, and you look like a really healthy guy. How many cereal bars have you eaten since the world went to shit? Ninety-four?”

  “I caught a rat the other day, okay?”

  Mike chuckled again. “Caught a rat. Wow, well, you really are sorted then aren’t you? You caught a rat. You don’t need my help.”

  I walked through the woods with Mike. It was afternoon, and clearly, I’d decided to stay around for a while. I wasn’t intending to. Not until Mike told me the EMP strikes had crippled the entire world. That kind of took the wind out of me, and made me realise that this problem was way bigger than I could ever have imagined. So I’d decided to spend the day with him. And then that day of training progressed and blended into night, and before I knew it, it was Day Seven and still we hadn’t been into town to this hardware store Mike told me about.

  It was bright and warm. Pretty pleasant day, really. I felt a hell of a lot better after a good sleep. Bouncer was by my side, but Mike had made me put him on a lead so he didn’t distract our prey. That was something unusual for Bouncer. We lived near a park back in Preston, so I never really had to put him on his lead, unless we were paying a trip to the vets.

  Bouncer hated the vets.

  So he was moping around right now, like he knew something bad was on the horizon.

  If only he knew the potential dangers of this world today were way more troublesome than a vet’s.

  “So go on then, genius. Show me one of these traps of yours.”

  Mike walked me further through the woods. He started demonstrating a trap to me. One he called a spring spear trap. He said it was handy for bigger animals, but was extremely dangerous even to predators like us. It seemed to require a lot of messing around, to be honest. It required a hardwood tree branch about five foot in length, at least an inch in diameter and stripped of leaves; six hardwood stakes at least an inch thick cut to a length of fourteen inches with a point made on one end; a speak half an inch thick and five inches long; a horizontal trigger, again made out of wood, an inch thick by nine inches long; a trigger pin about a quarter of an inch thick and four inches long, and finally ten feet or so of cord or strong vine.

  You knock the stakes six inches into the ground, one stake three feet from the stake and trigger post, then another three feet down towards the four stakes a couple of inches apart. Then you put the long branch horizontally between the four closer stakes and use a few feet of cord to tie it firmly in place.

  Next, you wrap your spear to the free end of the swing arm, making sure at least three inches of the spear spikes forward. Tie the horizontal trigger post in place about five inches above the ground, and tie a string to the same stake slightly below the horizontal trigger post to the post three feet to the left, very tightly.

  “This isn’t easy,” I said, panting.

  “Really? ’Cause that was the easy part. Now for the hard bit.”

  About an inch from the free end of the horizontal trigger post, Mike cut a small notch to hold the trap swing arm in place once it set. You take the small trigger pin and loop the trip string around it once, place an end into the notch and pull back the swing arm until there’s some serious tension on it. You place the trigger pin over the top of the swing arm with the spear resting about six inches to the top, which should hold nicely until some animal wanders by and trips it, the pin dislodging and the spear plunging into the animal.

  I frowned, my mind struggling to wrap around the details of that trap. “And you’re sure it works?”

  “Sure it works?” Mike said. He smiled a bit and chuckled. “Why don’t we find out?”

  He led me further through the woods. We were getting a little too deep into it for comfort, to be honest. The smells of the woods were fresh, and I could hear nothing but the branches snapping under my feet, and the birds singing in the trees. I wondered how the birds and nature would go on without humans to rely on. Of course, we weren’t going anywhere—not all of us, not yet—but we had bigger problems to worry about than how we were going to look after wildlife.

  To be honest, the animals were probably going to be fine. Probably even better off without us. They’d cope, without us around to terrorise them.

  “Hear that?” Mike asked.

  I frowned. “I don’t hear a thing.”

  “Then you’re deaf. And being deaf ain’t a good thing to be in this world.”

  “I’m not deaf. I—”

  “There. You hear it?”

  I stopped. Closed my eyes. Tried to focus on whatever it was that Mike was referring to.

  Then I heard it.

  A struggling.

  A moaning.

  Mike was practically salivating. He pulled out his knife and jogged through the trees, closer to the sound. I followed close behind, Bouncer tugging me along, clearly on the scent of something.

  Soon, the sound was loud, and there was a clear struggling.

  When we reached the source of the sound, I couldn’t help my heart sinking.

  There was a deer lying on the ground. The spear was in its side. It was still alive, eyes wide and terrified. When it saw us, it kicked even more, struggled to break free.

  “I thought it was meant to kill them?” I asked.

  “It is.”

  “So your trap went wrong?”

  “It… It’s just a one off. That’s all.”

  “So what now?”

  Mike wiped his chapped lips. He walked over to the deer, which made it struggle even more. He crouched down, went to stroke the deer, which made it kick out, and whimper.

  “Hey,” Mike said. “Hey, girl. It’s okay. It’s… It’s all gonna be over soon. All gonna be over.”

  I felt my eyes tearing up as I held Bouncer back. I never thought it would be this difficult catching food, especially when we had to in order to survive. “I… I don’t know if I can—”

  “It’s shitty,” Mike said, freely stroking the deer now. “It’s really shitty. Bu
t it’s the world we’re in. And it’s something you’re gonna have to grow comfortable with. Or you aren’t gonna survive.”

  I knew Mike was right. I just couldn’t fight past the fact that this was a living creature. A scared creature.

  And it was going to die in order to feed us.

  I walked over to it, slowly, making sure Bouncer was far away from it. Not that he’d do anything to it, the big softy. Probably do a runner if it kicked out at him.

  My thoughts about Bouncer were confirmed when he started to pull away when he realised we were walking up to it.

  I crouched down beside the deer. I looked into its eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, stroking its soft head. “I’m so sorry. I… Just know we’re thankful. We’re so thankful.”

  I wiped a tear away, then I looked up at Mike.

  He half-smiled, clearly a lot more sympathetic. “You ready?”

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

  “Good,” he said, the emotion fading from his voice. He lifted the knife. “Now I’ll show you how to kill and carve.”

  Five seconds later, the deer wasn’t struggling anymore.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I’d soon forgotten the source of the venison once I tucked into it.

  It was dark. We were sitting in the forest around a fire. It was nice and warm, in all truth. I couldn’t exactly relax. Not knowing that Olivia and Kerry were still out there. Anything could be happening to them. They could be still at home, scared out of their minds. They could be with another group, which terrified me even more.

  Or they could be…

  No. I didn’t want to think like that. I couldn’t accept the worst.

  They were out there. I was getting to them.

  Tomorrow was the day.

  “Nice, huh?”

  I looked at the chunk of venison in my hand. It was good, and Mike had taught me a way to create jerky out of any meat too, keeping it preserved for a long time. Simple, really. Cut the meat into quarter-inch strips, against the grain, then flavour with any salt, pepper or spices. The next stage, probably the trickiest in rainy Britain, was the drying process. Heat isn’t necessary, but humidity is. Sunlight helps, but rain is absolutely a killer.

  You create a little drying rack from a few sticks, leave the meat in a waterproof shelter. You’ll know it’s ready after a day or two, when it goes slightly brittle and turns a brownish, purple colour. If the meat strip bends easily or feels juicy, it isn’t ready. If it does, it’s ready to toast over the fire. Best of all, it’ll be safe to eat for a couple of weeks. Dehydrated meat that regains its natural form as soon as you start chewing it.

  I couldn’t help admitting I was grateful to Mike for the things he’d taught me. I couldn’t promise that I’d remember everything, but he’d made me realise that surviving wasn’t impossible. It was just stringing habit after habit. It was being willing to learn.

  It wasn’t giving up and throwing the towel in as opposed to standing up and fighting.

  That was a habit I’d been trying to shake my entire life.

  “So you still going ahead with your suicide plan, hmm?”

  I knew what Mike was referring to. “It isn’t a suicide plan.”

  “Whatever it is, it’s madness.”

  “It’s my family.”

  “I told you, there’s spare campers on site. I could use a hand. And some company.”

  I heard the cracking in Mike’s voice. I looked at him. He seemed such a tough guy, with such a steely exterior. But right now, I saw Mike, the human. And Mike, the human, just wanted someone to talk to in a morning.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” I asked. “I could use your skills on the road, too.”

  Mike puffed his lips out. “Because I’m not mental.”

  “So you’re telling me there’s no one out there?”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re telling me there’s no one out there who you’d risk everything for?”

  Mike looked away then, and stared into the fire. “My family is out there.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “My wife, Aleida. Her son, Harry. They are out there. And… and as much as I want to know they’re okay, as much as I want to get to them and help them, I know it’s…” His voice cracked, and I heard that tough exterior collapsing even more. He didn’t have to finish speaking for me to know exactly what he was implying.

  “So, what, you’ve just given up?”

  “I haven’t given up.”

  “You’ve settled down here and chosen not to go after your family. Sounds an awful lot like you’ve given up to me.”

  “I’ve not given up! I’ve just… I’ve accepted reality, Will. I’ve accepted the reality of the world we live in. And right now, as much as I want to go on a nice little quest across the country to make sure they’re okay, I just know they’re not already. And the sooner you know that about your own family, the better, too.”

  Suddenly, the venison I was chewing on didn’t taste so great after all.

  “You don’t have any faith?” I asked.

  Mike frowned and snorted. “Faith?”

  “Yeah. Like… I dunno. Belief. In… in something greater than us.”

  “I stopped believing in all that shit around the time I gave up on Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. What, you’re telling me God’s gonna come down and save us?”

  I looked up into the sky and swallowed a lump in my throat. “I don’t know. But when my Olivia was born, she had problems. She was born prematurely. She wasn’t well at all. The doctors didn’t think she’d make it. I found myself asking… asking something else if they’d please look down on her. If they’d make her okay.”

  “And she made it, and it was all thanks to God?”

  “Not God, necessarily… but… but just something. And Bouncer here, too. He was sick when he was a pup. Found myself putting my faith out of my hands. And that faith was so strong. And here he is.”

  “Yeah. Here he is. Here we all are. Sitting around a fire in the twenty-first century eating venison we killed.”

  “You killed.”

  Mike shrugged. “Whatever. Fact remains. We’re cut off. These aren’t good times. So whatever your God or your Higher Force or whatever the hell you want to call it gives you faith, just remember that he or it royally screwed us all over to put us in the place we’re in. But that’s not going to stop you going after your family. Is it?”

  I smiled back at Mike. He already knew my answer. “So many times in life, I’ve run away from problems without fighting them. Not now. Not again.”

  We put out the fire and headed back towards Mike’s caravan. I knew it was the final night. I knew I’d be setting off, first thing, whether he sorted me out with a bike or not.

  We started to approach the caravan when Mike suddenly stopped.

  Mike raised a hand. He put it against my chest.

  “What—” I started.

  He put a finger to his lip. He lowered down, slowly, and I followed.

  I didn’t know why. Not at first.

  And then I saw it.

  Movement.

  Right outside Mike’s caravan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  I saw the movement outside Mike’s caravan and somehow, right away, I knew it wasn’t good news.

  It was pitch black now, and I could only faintly make out the movement in the light of the moon and the stars. The air was cool. Behind me, I could see the tall trees stretching above, and part of me wished I was back in there, away from the outside world, cut off from everything.

  But I had to face up to reality.

  And like Mike said, reality wasn’t pretty.

  I could hear Bouncer whining, and feel him pulling against his lead to investigate the new arrival. That just made the hairs on my arms stand on end even more. If Bouncer had seen something then that definitely meant there was something.

  Someone.

  I didn’t want to have to deal wit
h anyone.

  Not after what happened at Aberfeldy five days ago.

  Or was it four?

  Shit. Was I completely losing track of time already? That didn’t bode well going forward.

  “We ambush them,” Mike said. I could hear the impatience in his voice.

  “Wait,” I said, grabbing his arm.

  He pushed my hand away. “It’s my caravan. My goddamned caravan. Nobody puts their slimy fingers on it.”

  I saw the glint of his knife and saw how tightly he was gripping it.

  And I realised just how serious Mike was.

  “Maybe they’re just lost.”

  “Lost?” He snorted, sounding totally baffled. “Yeah, they are lost. And too bad for them, they got lost at the wrong place.”

  “They might just be looking for somewhere to stay.”

  “Then they looked at the wrong campsite.”

  “Don't you hear yourself?” I said. I realised I was speaking louder than I’d intended. But I was in flow, and I meant what I was saying. “This… this guy. Or woman. Or whoever. You’ve no way of knowing they’re bad people. You’ve no way of knowing if they’re trying to steal anything.”

  “Trust me, I know.”

  “No. No you don’t. Back in the supermarket. If I’d said the wrong thing, would you have killed me too?”

  “That was different.”

  “Different how?”

  “You were in a supermarket. Not my home. Now leave me to sort this out. Or you can piss right off.”

  He pulled away and started making his way towards the caravan.

  I knew right then that there was no stopping him.

  But I had to try.

  I stepped out towards him and grabbed him again.

  He swung around, pushing me back. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “I just don’t want you to do something you regret.”

  Mike’s eyes narrowed then. And in the dull light of the moon, I saw his smile. “Wait. This isn’t about me, is it?”

  “Mike—”

  “This isn’t about me at all. It’s about you. You’ve done something.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’ve done something bad and you’re all churned up with guilt.”