Darkness Rises: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (After the EMP Book 3)

by Harley Tate

  Madison blinked. Peyton voted no to keep her safe? She glanced at her father. He stared at Peyton with an expression Madison couldn’t read. Were they in on it together? Had they talked about it somehow?

  She shook her head. “You all are crazy. I can’t believe you’re just going to let this girl die.” Madison stared at each person who voted no in turn. Her father, best friend, and roommate.

  After a moment, Brianna pushed off the Jeep with a scowl. “Fine. I’ll change my vote.”

  “Brianna, no!”

  She waved Peyton off. “I’m only doing it because Madison’s right. A student pharmacy is our best bet. And if that doesn’t work, Chico State has a veterinary school. There will be antibiotics there.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I looked into it when I applied to college. They have a huge agriculture department and vet program. It’s not as big as UC Davis, but it’s a close second.”

  Peyton glanced up. “If they have an agriculture department that means plants and seeds. Livestock, even.”

  Madison’s father added his opinion. “There might be a truck we could use, too. We could swap out the Jetta for something that can transport more supplies.” He glanced at Brianna. “I hate the idea of showing up at your folks’ place empty-handed.”

  “Then we’ll go? We’ll try to save those people?”

  Her father exhaled. “Let’s find a place to make camp and sleep for the night. We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  DAY EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWO

  WALTER

  California State University, Chico

  8:00 a.m.

  This is a terrible idea. He felt like Admiral Ackbar. The girl over the radio couldn’t sound like more of a scam if she tried. His daughter’s best friend pegged the whole scenario right from the start: sweet-sounding Mandy Patterson was bait.

  He was heading into a trap with his injured wife, his former co-pilot with a bullet hole in his shoulder, and four kids who weren’t old enough to drink. It wasn’t that different from a grunt officer heading out on patrol.

  Walter snorted. Reason one out of a hundred he opted for that flight contract. Flying in for a mission with no one to rely on but himself was easy. Placing his trust in a bunch of kids with guns they barely knew how to shoot was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  These weren’t seasoned Marines with a deployment or two under their belts. These were college kids who up until a week ago worried about exams and hangovers and whether their plants were growing all right. They hadn’t seen combat. They didn’t know what war was like.

  Walter frowned at himself in the rearview mirror. His daughter shouldn’t have to be a part of this. She should be tucked away somewhere safe while the world went to shit.

  His wife should be relaxing and treating her burned hand. Instead she sat in the passenger seat with a pistol shoved under her waistband, checking for possible targets out the window.

  Walter had made it home, but his family wasn’t the same as when he’d left. He should be protecting them from the realities of this new existence and keeping them safe. Not leading them straight into danger and a potential trap they couldn’t escape. He shifted the mirror to get a glimpse of Madison.

  Only nineteen. So damn young and full of life. She shouldn’t have bruises from a shotgun stock on her shoulder and cuts and scrapes from escaping a raging fire. She shouldn’t have watched a woman bleed out from a gunshot wound or sifted through the wreckage of her home for things to salvage.

  He’d failed her. A week into the apocalypse and Walter had failed to keep his family safe. But that would change. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and turned his attention back to the road. From now on, no matter what danger they faced, he would ensure his family’s safety.

  Madison’s roommate Brianna led the way in front of them with her canary-yellow Jeep. She claimed to know the way and despite wanting to be in front to scope out the situation, Walter had acquiesced and let her take over. As the Jeep slowed, Walter caught a glimpse of a sign up ahead.

  California State University, Chico

  Undergraduate Campus

  He inhaled and glanced at his wife. “Looks like we’re here.”

  Tracy nodded. He could tell by the lines around her mouth she was in serious pain, but she never admitted it. Her hand looked like rotting hamburger, raw and oozing. She needed better antibiotics. It was the main reason he’d given in at last.

  Brianna pulled the Jeep over to the side of the road and stuck her hand out the window, waving them forward. Walter pulled up alongside and Tracy rolled down the window.

  “I don’t know where anything is on campus. It’s been too long since I’ve been here. Do you want to take the lead?”

  Walter leaned over his wife to answer. “Sure thing. First sign of trouble, I’ll tap the brakes three times. Got it?”

  Brianna nodded and the window rolled up.

  Here we go. Walter eased past the Jeep and turned right onto campus. So far, the drive had been uneventful. When the road was clear, they were the only cars on it. When it was crowded with abandoned vehicles and accidents, it looked like a ghost town.

  Every strip mall they drove by had been looted: windows smashed in, blackened soot clinging to the signs, debris littering the parking lots. A few places appeared intact, but Walter assumed it was by sheer force of will. Whoever sat inside those stores had serious protection.

  He hoped the college would be spared from the chaos of the rest of town. As they drove down the main street, his daughter gasped in the back seat. Guess hope didn’t make it to Chico State.

  “Why would someone do this?” Madison’s voice warbled as she stared out the window. “It’s senseless.”

  Walter exhaled. The first building they drove by looked like a bomb had detonated inside. Papers littered the rangy grass out front, covering up the growing brown spots from lack of water. A soda machine sat on its side, front door pried open, dozens of cans sprawled in a circle around it. Someone had taken a spray can to the stucco, scrawling something about armageddon and justice.

  “It doesn’t take much to set off a mob.” He’d seen it firsthand in LA twenty-five years ago. Then again in downtown Sacramento only a few days before. “Get enough people together and no law enforcement and this is what happens.”

  “But why?” Madison pointed out the window. “Why destroy things you can use?”

  His wife spoke up next to him. “No one is thinking about the future. They aren’t focused on what life will be like a year from now or even a month. Most people don’t understand the gravity of the situation.”

  Madison mumbled something in the backseat before speaking up. “How long do you think before they figure it out?”

  “That the power’s never coming back on?” Walter mulled it over. “For some, the denial will last until their last breath. Others already suspect or know.”

  He wished he could save his daughter from all of this, but she needed to understand what they were up against and why sometimes she needed to say no and ignore cries for help. “There will be countless people who can’t adapt. Without skills, and foresight, millions of people will simply starve to death over the next few weeks.”

  The next building they drove past looked the same as the first: broken windows and chaos. “Instead of breaking into stores for food, people broke in to steal TVs and sneakers. It’s the same in any riot. People go for the things they think have value. No one places importance on food and water anymore. Those are too easy to come by.”

  “Not for everyone.”

  “In the major cities, it is. I saw it downtown. Grocery stores and pharmacies burned, all the stock turned to ash on the shelves.”

  Tracy agreed. “Those two guys in Walmart weren’t thinking about the future. They used half the ammo in that place for target practice.”

  Walter snorted in disgust. If he’d only been home, his wife and daughter would never have had to do the
things they did. Their house would still be standing. All the supplies Tracy left behind in Walmart would be tucked away in their garage. He would never forgive himself for boarding that flight when his gut told him to go home.

  “Dad, look! It’s the cafeteria. They might have—” His daughter’s excitement cut off mid-sentence as the building that once housed the campus dining hall came into view.

  The red brick and yellow stucco still stood, marred by giant swaths of black soot and fire marks. Every window gaped at them, showing off the blackened maw of destruction inside the building.

  “All that food. All the supplies. Gone.” Madison’s voice took on a tinny quality and Walter glanced in the rearview in time to catch her wipe at her cheek. “Where are all the students?”

  “It was spring break, remember? The ones who stayed on campus are probably on the road by now. As soon as the campus police force broke down, the whole place probably devolved into a riot. Most kids wouldn’t stick around to ride it out.”

  Tracy shifted in the passenger seat. “Let’s find the student health center. Then we can talk about helping that girl.”

  “We are helping her, Mom.”

  Walter bit back a comment. Now wasn’t the time to take a side. “Keep your eyes out. As soon as you see a sign for the health center, let me know.”

  They drove through most of campus, circling down and back on every road in an attempt to find the place. There wasn’t a single part of campus untouched. Every third or fourth school building had been struck by vandals and looters. Walter’s hope dimmed with every new block.

  “There! It’s right over there!” Madison jabbed her index finger at the window and Walter followed the trajectory. A newer building sat at the end of the block, the outside apparently unharmed. “It looks all right!”

  Walter pulled into the parking lot one building over and parked next to an abandoned vehicle. Brianna pulled in the Jeep beside them. Everyone piled out and stretched their legs.

  “Do you think it’s empty?”

  “Without any windows busted out and no fire damage?” Walter shook his head. “Not a chance.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Peyton frowned at the building. “Whoever’s inside is doing a good job of keeping everyone out.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Brianna pulled the rubber band out of her hair and redid her ponytail, collecting all the ringlets up into a sloppy bun on top of her head. She dropped her voice as she continued. “Drew is getting worse by the minute. He’s too pale and his head is hot. He won’t last much longer without medicine.”

  Walter nodded. He’d feared as much. “Tracy needs medicine too.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He smiled at his wife. “I can tell you’re in pain, dear. You put on a brave face, but that hand is killing you. You need pain medication and better antibiotics.”

  Walter surveyed the motley crew assembled around him. Drew hadn’t even gotten out of the Jeep. He couldn’t be counted on to do anything but keep breathing, if he managed that. That left two young men, himself, his injured wife, and Madison and her roommate.

  He scrubbed at his face. Could any of these kids be trusted? Could he ask them to risk their lives to help his wife and co-pilot? Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice. “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do. Peyton and Tucker, you will come with me. The rest of you can wait here.”

  Brianna stomped her foot. “No way!”

  “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.” Madison stared at him like he’d grown another eye.

  Tracy leaned closer. “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  TRACY

  California State University, Chico

  1:00 p.m.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Tracy focused on her husband’s face. She knew he wanted to protect her and their daughter, but asking both of them to stay on the sidelines would never work. She smiled. “I know you mean well, Walt, but you can’t ask all the women to stay here.”

  “Of course I can. I just did.”

  Tracy laughed. “True. But it’s never going to happen. Brianna is as tough as nails. She’s from a full-on prepper family. She’s been handling weapons since she could read and she’s a hell of a lot more trustworthy in a firefight than her boyfriend Tucker.”

  Walter opened his mouth but closed it just as fast. He exhaled and focused on the ground, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought it over. “What about Peyton? The kid’s NFL linebacker size.”

  “But a complete teddy bear. He’s coming around, but guns aren’t his strong suit.” Tracy paused. “If Madison were in danger though, the boy would walk through fire and not hesitate.”

  Walter nodded, almost wincing as he tried to ask a question. “Are they…?”

  “No. Still friends as far as I know.”

  Her husband sagged in relief and Tracy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Your daughter’s nineteen, Walt. It’s okay if she has a boyfriend.”

  “It’ll never be okay, Tracy. But I’m trying.”

  “I know.” Tracy reached out and squeezed his arm. “We’re all tough. Every last one of us.”

  Walt’s lips thinned. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home that morning. I had a feeling something was wrong, but I had a job to do and—”

  Tracy shushed him. “I don’t blame you at all. You did what you thought was right. We all have. Heaping guilt on your shoulders will do nothing but weigh you down.”

  “From what it sounds like, you almost died at that Walmart. If I had been home, it would have been me on that run.”

  “We survived.”

  “Wanda didn’t.” Walter ground his fist into his palm.

  Tracy knew her husband blamed himself for everything that happened to her and Madison over the last week. Somehow she needed to shake him loose of his worry and doubt. “No one could have predicted that night. Even if you had been there, the fire would still have been set. We would still have lost the house.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  Tracy exhaled. Arguing about the past would get them nowhere. She rose up on her toes and kissed her husband’s cheek. “Let it go, hon. Focus on the here and now. Drew needs medicine.”

  “You do, too.”

  “Not as much as he does.” She paused. Walter hadn’t told her much about their trek through downtown, but based on the bullet hole in Drew’s shoulder, it had to be terrible. “Will he be all right?”

  Walter nodded. “With the right medication, yeah. He should recover.” With one hand, Walter reached for her wrist and turned her palm up to face him. “Your burn looks bad, Tracy.”

  “I know. But I’m fine.” She would never admit how much her hand hurt. At least the antibiotics she had been taking kept her sane and the pain had receded to a bearable level. She thought about the few hours after the fire, when she drifted in and out of consciousness and her daughter had to face the neighborhood alone.

  Tracy shuddered. “We should come up with a plan of attack. Scope the place out and figure out the best way in.”

  Walter smiled. “You sound like a fire team leader.”

  Tracy glanced behind her at the four college kids huddled together. “I guess I am.”

  Her husband slipped his arm around her waist and brought her close enough to kiss. His lips brushed against hers. “When this is over and we make it to the cabin in Truckee, I’m taking you out into the woods and having my way with you.”

  A laugh bubbled up her throat and she couldn’t keep it back. “Easy boy, you don’t want to frighten the children.”

  After a quick kiss, Walter let her go. It was so good to have him back. One hug and the weight of the future lifted from her shoulders.

  “Let’s find a place to set up camp nearby and we can come up with a plan. I want to go in at dusk.”

  Student Health Center, CSU Chico

  6:00 p.m.

  Tracy stared at the back of her daughter’s head as she bent over the map Walter
had drawn of the health center and the surrounding buildings. For every word she told her husband of her daughter’s bravery and ability to fight, another word echoed inside Tracy’s head.

  Love.

  She loved her daughter more than anything in this world and part of her wanted to wrap her up in bubble wrap and keep her safe from the reality they now faced. But she couldn’t do that if an infection set in.

  Tracy glanced down at her hand. The worst of the burn oozed a milky, yellowish fluid. She had tried wrapping it in bandages, but that only held the infection in. If her hand had any hope of healing, the wound needed to drain and she needed the strongest antibiotic she could find.

  Drew fared even worse. That afternoon, he’d fallen asleep and been almost impossible to rouse. His wound was swollen and discolored, the duct tape barely visible beneath the puffy tissue.

  She knew they had to stay behind, but the thought of sending her daughter out on this run twisted her insides. Madison and Brianna talked the plan over, pointing at the ground and hashing out who would do what while Walter talked Peyton through their maneuver.

  Tucker leaned against the side of the Jeep beside Tracy and crossed his arms.

  “Unhappy about being left behind?” she asked.

  He kicked at the dirt. “No. Yes.” He exhaled in frustration. “I don’t know. I just don’t like Brianna going back out there. After the Walmart, I just…”

  Tracy nodded. Tucker had come up with a plan to rescue his girlfriend when the two idiots with more bullets than brains had started shooting up the bedding department. Thanks to his idea and Tracy’s ridiculous acting, they all made it out alive. But this time, they might not be so lucky.

  She smiled as he looked up. “She’s tough as nails and Madison is with her. As long as they stick to the plan, everything will be fine.”