by Ryan Casey
I felt a hand on my arm. It was Kesha.
“You sure?” she asked.
I turned around and double checked. Every time she said that, it freaked me out some more. “I mean I guess there could be someone in the houses opposite. But as long as we get in and out, they shouldn’t be a problem.”
She smiled. Chuckled a little. “Sorry. I’m just screwing with you. It looks clear. Let’s move.”
I saw the four other people with us approach. There was Dave, who didn’t say much but he was a tough bastard. There was Hassan, who had a knack for finding things that came in handy that you just wouldn’t expect to help you. There was Suzy, who was quick. And there was Anisha, who had the eyes of a hawk.
“Why don’t you give it one of your hawk-eye once over’s, Anisha?” I asked.
Anisha tutted and stepped forward. “You do realise hawks don’t have the best eyes in nature, don’t you? It’s just a cliche. The eagle has far superior—”
“Right, right,” Hassan said. “We get your point, Brains. Are we all good? That’s what the man’s asking.”
She took a look around. Squinted everywhere. She grabbed my binoculars and scanned the area, making sure.
Then she lowered them and shrugged. “Looks clear. But I don’t have superpowers or anything.”
“Don’t put yourself down,” Hassan said.
“Right,” Kesha said. “Let’s get a move on.”
We headed towards the petrol station. I felt exposed as I walked past the abandoned cars, many of them given up on as soon as the electricity failed. There was always an eerie sense of adrenaline on any scavenging mission. I should know. I’d been on seven of these raids in the four days since I’d got here.
But so far, they’d all gone well. Eerily well. We’d managed to gather all kinds of things to boost our standing. We’d even picked up a few decent survivors on the way.
For the first time in a long time, it really felt like things were coming together.
But at the back of my mind, I couldn’t forget Kesha’s promise.
Her promise of helping me get my family back.
“You don’t look right without him,” Kesha said.
I turned around from the petrol station shelves, grabbing some of the remaining chocolate bars. I realised she was speaking to me. “Huh?”
“Your dog. Doesn’t seem right seeing you without him.”
I felt a lump in my throat the moment I thought of Bouncer. He was okay. Don’t worry. He was just staying back at the prison, where he was much safer than he was out here. I’d hesitated though. He’d joined us on the first three raids, but I realised having a dog around wasn’t too feasible.
So I’d trusted the group to keep an eye out for him back at the prison. I had faith in them to keep him company.
“They’ll still be out there,” Kesha said.
“Hmm?”
“Your family,” she said, squeezing past me and grabbing some food for herself. She kept on clicking all of the torches they had in here, trying to find the odd one that might’ve survived the blast. “They aren’t going anywhere.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Kesha looked at me with those bright blue eyes. She always had a smile on her face, even when she was bossing people around. “I can’t. You’re right. I shouldn’t speak in absolutes. But you’re going to have to start adapting to a new reality one way or another, even if they are still out there.”
I searched the shelves for fuel, mainly oil for cooking. “I’d say I’m doing okay.”
She smiled. “You’re learning.”
We headed back outside. I saw Hassan draining the fuel from the petrol tanks of the abandoned cars.
“You really need all this fuel?”
“We do, yeah. Think of it like savings. It might not be so essential now, but when we get some more cars that survived the EMP strikes in our possession, it’ll be crucial currency.”
“Oil still just as essential as it used to be, eh?”
“Right,” Kesha said.
Kesha was insistent that there were certain types of car that would’ve survived the strike. Ali drew up a list, and said they were to look for these types. But identifying them was easier said than done considering they weren’t exactly mainstream vehicles. How often did you bump into a 1970s Jeep, for example?
But it was a start. It was knowledge.
Knowledge really was power, as the cliche goes.
“Do you ever think about just giving it all up and starting again?”
I looked at Kesha as she filled a canister with petrol. It was going to be a heavy load to take back with us. “Huh?”
“This… this new world. Do you ever think it’s just a great chance for a fresh start?”
I thought about what I had right now. It was good. As close to perfect as it was going to get. And Kesha… she was nice, too. I’d not really felt this close to anyone since Kerry and I separated.
Maybe in another world, she could’ve been the one.
I smiled at her. “I have a family. That’s my reality. And I’m not leaving them. Not if it kills me.”
Kesha nodded and smiled back, but I saw a flicker of disappointment on her face. “You’re a man of honour, Will. Got to respect that.”
“So how about you?”
“How about me what?”
“No one out there? Family? Anyone you care about?’
She looked away and blushed. Then she looked back into my eyes. “We all have pasts. They don’t matter so much anymore.”
I thought about pressing Kesha for more on her closed past, but she turned around and walked off to the rest of the team.
And as she walked off, I couldn’t help thinking about her question.
“Do you ever think about just giving it all up and starting again?”
Giving it all up.
Starting again.
I took a deep breath of the warm air and walked away from the petrol station as the tug of my family pulled back at me.
I didn’t see them watching.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Darren Windermere watched as the group walked away from the petrol station, their bags even more stuffed than when they got there.
The afternoon was drawing on. Soon, night would be here again, to bring along all its darkness, all its horrors. The night was always the worst for Darren. Even when it was uneventful. Especially when it was uneventful.
Because it brought the memories flooding back.
The memories of what had happened when the darkness arrived.
Of the last time he’d heard her make a sound, then nothing.
He studied the things this group was carrying. It looked like they’d been here for petrol. Which was weird, because as far as he was aware, no cars were working. An oddball called Harry had gone on about how older cars might be able to withstand an EMP event a while ago, but he hadn’t really taken him seriously. Harry was full of shit.
But looking at this group, clean, well-groomed, and carrying fuel. Well, they could be using the fuel for something else entirely.
Whatever they were using it for, Darren wanted to know.
He wanted to see it for himself.
“They look like they’ve got their shit together.”
Darren looked to his left. Beside him, lying flat on her stomach on the roof of one of the nearby flat buildings, he saw Sally. She had binoculars to her face. She was a tough cookie, with long brown hair and a permanent frown etched on her forehead. Sometimes, Darren thought he was a little too harsh in this world. He felt like he could tone down his approach. After all, everyone in this world was still a human being. It made sense that diplomacy should be at least attempted in every possible scenario.
But then he remembered what happened to his son when he’d attempted to be diplomatic on just the fourth day of this crazy world, and his feelings were soon taken over.
“So what we gonna do?”
Another voice. This one from further
back. Owen. Beside him, Stu. Yassin. Jasmine.
Darren saw his group, starving, emaciated, and smelled the rankness of sweat in the air, and he knew exactly what they had to do.
He didn’t want to be forceful. He didn’t even want to cause a scene.
He just wanted to know what this group had.
And then he could figure out how he was going to take it from them.
“We’re going to follow them,” Darren said. “And then we’re going to find out if they have a home. If they do, we’re going to work our way inside their ranks.”
“And if they don’t let us?” Sally asked.
Darren looked back over the edge of the building at the group as they walked further away from the petrol station. “They will. Because we’re going to go in there in pockets. Small pockets. And when we’re in, they’ll have no idea we know each other. That’s when we act.”
“‘Act?’” Owen asked.
Darren nodded as he studied the man with dark hair leading the way, the short woman beside him. “We take their place and make it our own.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Day Twenty-One
THREE WEEKS since the beginning and I was finally ready.
I opened my eyes, just like I had the last few days of staying at the prison. I’d done the normal morning things; the things that became routine. Brushed my teeth. Took a shower in cold water that we had stocked up. Went for breakfast, which was usually always porridge or eggs, and cattle for meat. It was a harsh reality, staring your food in your face and knowing you were going to have to kill it someday. Not one I’d ever been totally comfortable with, in truth.
But wherever I went, I knew I’d had to be.
Things weren’t going to be any different on the other side of the country.
Well, sure. There might be organisational differences, things like that.
But really, in truth, everywhere was down. I’d faced that now. Accepted it.
At least I could take my skills and the things I’d learned down to my family when I found them.
After I’d done my usual morning rituals, I stepped outside and looked around the prison grounds. We’d grown a little more in the last few days. There’d been a flurry of people. Individuals, mostly, all of them with relatively dubious backgrounds. I had an approach and a mindset of scepticism, but the way Kesha saw it, as long as they proved they were willing to work, they were alright by her.
And in all truth, they’d seemed okay, so far. A little distant. A little hard to start conversations with, at times. But hey, weren’t we all? Wasn’t I a bit awkward when I’d first got here?
I knew the answer to that question.
As I looked across the grounds, breathing in the fresh morning air, listening to the cows moo and the hens sing, I considered the madness of what I was about to do. Three weeks had passed and I was going chasing ghosts.
I thought back to Mike, and what he’d told me about my family. Too much time had passed. They were gone, surely. Hell, they could be heading in the exact same direction in an attempt to find me. Doubtful, but possible. The odds of finding them still just at home were so, so slim.
And there was another reason holding me back from leaving, too.
That reason was over by the car, which had been filled up ready for its maiden long-distance voyage.
Kesha.
She looked over at me with those startling blue eyes and smiled.
I lifted my hand and smiled back.
I couldn’t deny there was something between Kesha and I. We’d got on well ever since we’d first met. She made me feel good about myself, after the breakdown of my relationship with Kerry, and I seemed to make her laugh, too.
I wanted her to be a bigger part of my life. I didn’t want to just leave her behind here.
But I knew there was no way she was leaving this place for any extended period of time.
Just today, to join me on my journey to the… well, as far as half a tank of fuel would take us.
I walked over to her and nodded. “Hey.”
“Hey? We American all of a sudden?”
“I’ve always said ‘hey’.”
“Then you’re a weirdo.”
I tilted my head. “Maybe so.”
I looked at Bouncer, who had followed me down here. He looked between Kesha and me.
“This young man’s hardly going to be keen on leaving either, hmm?” Kesha asked.
I knew what Kesha was referring to. Bouncer had got friendly with a little lady called Screwball. I had no idea who in the name of Christ thought Screwball was a good name for a dog, but she was a sweet little West Highland Terrier who’d been here since I got here. “Yeah, he’ll miss her. But he loves his daddy more.”
I ruffled his fur, and he licked my face.
“You sure about that?” Kesha asked.
“Oh, I’m sure.”
We were silent for a few seconds. I looked around and saw some people approaching. Ali. Hassan. Anisha.
“I wasn’t expecting a leaving party,” I said.
“And you aren’t getting one,” Ali said. He handed me a wrench. “Take this. Never know when you might need it.”
“Thank you.”
He patted me on my back then walked over to the 1970s Jeep, the one that was going to take Kesha back up here when she’d dropped me off in the middle of wherever half a tank took us.
Hassan approached me next. “Figure you could use this more than me.” He handed me a few supplies.
“Shit. What’s this? The three kings or something?”
Anisha stood in front of me. She reached into her pocket.
Then she pulled out her middle finger.
“Always could rely on you for the best gifts,” I said.
She punched my arm a little harder than I was comfortable with. “Good luck. You know where we are if you need us.”
“No. Not really. But I appreciate the sentiment.”
While the group fussed over Bouncer, I saw the dark-haired man called Simon glaring down at us from a distance. He was one of the new arrivals. And there was something about him. Something… off.
“Keep an eye on creepy Simon while I’m away,” I said.
Hassan puffed his lips. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about him.”
“Seriously,” I said. “Stay safe. All of you.”
I felt the tears building up in my eyes. I was never good at goodbyes. The sooner I could get away from here now, the better.
“Right,” Kesha said. “In you get, Bouncer. The rest of you lot, I’ll be back in no time. Seriously. Don’t look so worried. You’ve got this. We’re a tough nut to crack. All of us.”
I saw the uncertain looks on the faces of their group as their leader left them behind and I knew Kesha was taking a massive risk by being by my side.
I waved goodbye a final time, made sure I had my newly repacked bag, and then went to climb into the car.
Kesha was in the passenger seat.
“Well?” she said. “You don’t expect me to drive both ways, do you?”
I smiled. Then I walked around to the front of the car and climbed in.
I took a deep breath of the musty air inside the car. Behind, I heard Bouncer panting, wagging his tail. He cried a bit when he heard a howl in the distance, a howl that could be nobody but Screwball.
“You ready?” Kesha asked.
I put the key in and went to turn it. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this. Remember?”
I looked at Kesha and I knew from the way she looked back at me that she got me, right away.
“Right,” she said. “You do.”
“You can stay here.”
“And then what happens with the car?”
“I dunno. Send Ali with me or something.”
“Ali? You really want to spend six hours in a car with him?”
“Fair point.”
She put her hand on mine. I let it rest there, despit
e wanting to flinch away. I let its warmth radiate through my skin, and I felt it fill my body with confidence and assurance.
“You’re going to find your family,” she said. “And I’m going to do everything I can to help you.”
I nodded.
Took a deep breath.
Then I turned the key and started up the car.
I looked in the rear-view mirror as I departed the perfect idyllic haven I’d spent the last few days.
I hoped somehow, one day, I’d be able to come back here. With my family.
I turned out onto the road and the prison disappeared from view behind the mass of trees.
“Bon voyage,” Kesha said.
“Bon voyage indeed.”
We started our journey down a long and dangerous road.
If only we knew what was waiting for us.
CHAPTER THIRTY
We hadn’t been in the car long and already it felt weird as hell.
Kesha had taken over the driver’s seat. She said she didn’t trust me with a vehicle as valuable as this. And something about me driving like a granddad, which was obviously nonsense. The afternoon was rapidly progressing, and I worried that soon it would be dark, although I figured we had a good few hours to go in the light yet.
“You need to get that panic off your face,” Kesha said.
“Panic? I’m not panicking.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been biting your nails and glaring out of that window at the sky ever since I took over driving duty. Well, since before that, actually. Part of why I took over. What’s got into you?”
I stared at the abandoned cars on the road. We were travelling through a more built up suburban area, which had me on edge. I could see houses. An old football stadium, more abandoned than it was on non-matchdays, an eerie silence about it. In the streets, I saw dogs and cats running wild. Litter was stacked up to the point that bins were overflowing. It wasn’t a nice scene. And if this was what it was like here, then I dreaded to think what it might be like back home in Preston. “Just don’t like being in a residential area like this.”
“Well there’s nothing we can do,” Kesha said. “Rather here than the motorway, which is totally clogged up with cars.”
Kesha was right. The motorway would be filled with vehicles that’d just dropped dead. “To be honest, these roads aren’t much better.”
