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

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

by Harley Tate


  “Brianna’s not the best at following a script.”

  “Let’s hope this time she can.”

  Tucker didn’t say another word. Instead, he stood by Tracy’s side. Both of them would be watching people they cared about leave on a mission they might not come back from. All to help Tracy and Drew. Tracy had been through countless goodbyes with her husband over the years: first deployments when he was on active duty, then two-week-long shifts as a commercial pilot.

  Tucker probably only said goodbye at the end of a school term. She nudged him. “Do you love her?”

  He glanced up at Tracy, face so young, but earnest. “More than anything. Brianna’s all I have.”

  “Then go hug her and tell her that before she leaves. Maybe it’ll help keep her focused.”

  Tucker nodded and pushed off the side of the 4x4. Tracy watched as he tapped Brianna on the shoulder and pulled her up for a hug. Brianna hugged him back with a fierce determination that spoke to her courage and strength.

  Madison stood up and made her way over to Tracy. “We’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll get you better medicine, find some for Drew, and be back here before you know it.”

  With her good hand, Tracy reached out and Madison eased in for a hug. She remembered when Madison only came up to her waist and would wrap her little arms around her thigh so tight, squeezing like if she let go, Tracy might disappear.

  The first day of kindergarten, Walter had to pry his daughter’s arms apart and send her on her way. Today, Madison was already pulling back, eyes focused on the building, body itching to go. Tracy gave her daughter a last pat and watched with a trapped breath as she joined her father on the edge of the parking lot.

  Tracy sent up a silent prayer. Please keep them all alive. Please.

  One by one, Brianna, Madison, Walter, and Peyton disappeared from view.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  MADISON

  Student Health Center, CSU Chico

  6:30 p.m.

  “The back entrance is right up those stairs.” Brianna pulled down her binoculars and pointed at the building before handing them to Madison.

  “What if it’s locked?” Madison adjusted the focus and zeroed in on the back of the student health center. It was a newer building, made of concrete with stucco and brick veneers. A pair of double doors stood in the middle of the rear, flanked by narrow windows on either side.

  “Double doors are easier to kick in than singles. Even if it’s locked, we should be able to bust them open.” Brianna paused. “Unless there’s a metal support in the middle. Then we’re screwed.”

  She motioned for the binoculars back. After looking through them again she nodded. “We should be able to fit through one of those windows on the side. Assuming they’re tempered, a good hit from a rock on the bottom corner should break one.”

  “That’s it?”

  Brianna nodded. “Tempered glass is safety glass. It’s used for schools, hospitals, car windows. Anywhere sharp glass would be a hazard. It doesn’t break the same way regular glass breaks. One good hit at a point of low flexion and it’ll shatter into tiny, non-sharp pieces.”

  Madison exhaled. “Where did you learn that?”

  Brianna shrugged. “My dad. He taught me how to break into most places just in case.”

  Madison shook her head. While her father had been playing goalie for every one of Madison’s soccer kicks in the backyard, Brianna’s dad had been teaching her how to survive when the world went to hell. It must have made for a difficult childhood for Brianna, but now Madison wished her father had shared a bit of the Clifton family crazy.

  With a motion of her hand, Brianna took the lead, easing away from the building that gave them cover and into the open parking lot. Madison hurried to catch up. “My dad said to wait until he gave the signal.”

  “I know, I want to be ready. We can hold up in the nook beside the stairs. It’s getting too dark to see anyone out here. I don’t want to be caught in the parking lot before we ever make it inside.”

  Madison frowned. It wasn’t how they had rehearsed it an hour before, but it was too late. “Fine. But no more deviations, okay?”

  “Sometimes deviations are necessary.”

  “We have a plan for a reason.”

  Brianna made it to the stairs and crouched down beside them. Madison followed.

  “Plans have to adapt and change. Sometimes the plan goes wrong and you need to make a judgment call to fix it.”

  Madison didn’t know what to say. Brianna had stood beside her the entire time her father outlined the plan, nodding her head in agreement. Now it sounded like she wasn’t going to play along one bit. “So you’re saying to hell with it? You’re just going to barge in there and ignore everything my dad said?”

  “No. Not at all. I’m going to follow the plan as long as it’s the right thing to do. But as soon as it isn’t, I’m improvising.”

  Dusk had settled on campus, the trees across the parking lot barely visible to Madison’s naked eyes. Even the building they had crouched behind only a minute before was more apparition than structure. In another few minutes, they wouldn’t be able to see more than a few feet in front of them.

  Maybe Brianna’s idea had been the better one. She sighed. “How do you know what decision is right?”

  “Whatever is the most expedient in the moment.”

  Madison shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

  Brianna scoffed. “Of course it is.”

  “You’re telling me you’d shoot someone if it was the fastest way to get what you needed?”

  “If shooting someone kept me alive and got me something I needed, then yes. All that matters now is staying alive. Everything else—morality, ethics, a sense of justice—it’s noise.”

  Madison couldn’t believe her ears. Was the dark somehow clouding Brianna’s perception or did it give her the freedom to say what she had felt all along? She thought back to the causeway and how Brianna gunned the Jeep to ride the wake of the semi-truck while it barreled down car after car. How she didn’t bat an eye when they walked into the convenience store and stumbled upon two dead bodies.

  Was her former college roommate this cold? This devoid of humanity and compassion?

  Madison swallowed. “What about me? Would you kill me if it was the most expedient choice?”

  Brianna stayed silent for a moment. “Would you ever stand in the way of my survival?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then, no. But anyone who gets in my way is fair game.”

  On some level, Madison always knew Brianna had a backbone of steel. But hearing her talk about human life like it was a piece of rubble to step over, a temporary impediment to her path… She closed her eyes and the face of Bill Donovan filled her brain.

  “Would you have killed Bill?”

  “Before he got Wanda killed or after?”

  Madison’s stomach roiled. “Take your pick.”

  “Before, no. Your mom did a good job threatening the guy. But after? In a heartbeat.”

  “Then why didn’t you? You were armed. When we were standing there on the street, you could have taken the shot.”

  Brianna shifted in the dark beside Madison. “It wasn’t my house that burned, Madison. Wanda wasn’t my friend. I was sad that she died, but I barely knew the woman. I wasn’t going to step into a fight that wasn’t mine. I figured you would do what was necessary.”

  “But you don’t think I did.”

  “Not that time, no.”

  Madison fell silent. The fact that she didn’t pull the trigger when she had Bill in her sights haunted her. But he wasn’t armed and she didn’t know for sure that he had been the one to set fire to the house. What if the man they had captured was lying? For all they knew, he was using Bill as a scapegoat to cover up for the real perpetrator.

  She couldn’t kill a man when she didn’t know if he deserved it. Not then… maybe not ever. Did that make her weak? Was this new world reserved for those who could turn
off their sense of justice when the situation called for it?

  “What about Tucker? He voted to come here and help the girl in the radio station. He found a way to escape Walmart without killing anyone.”

  Brianna mumbled under her breath.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said, he’s a sweetheart.”

  “So he’s exempt from your necessity-begets-violence stance?”

  Brianna’s voice dropped again. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  It took so long for Brianna to respond, Madison began to wonder whether she would.

  “He’s not cut out for this life.” Brianna stood up and leaned back against the wall. Her voice filtered down to Madison like a whisper from a ghost. “I’m not going to be able to protect him forever.”

  “You can’t—” The sound of a bird chirping three times cut Madison’s response short. “That’s the signal.”

  Brianna hopped the rail and landed on the steps outside the double doors. “Let’s do this.” She reached for the handle, but it didn’t budge. “Locked.”

  Madison pulled the multitool she had purchased at the sporting goods store from her pocket and handed it to Brianna. Her former roommate popped out a small knife blade and worked the lock, shimmying the blade back and forth, but it wouldn’t budge.

  She stood up. “Do you have any bobby pins?”

  Madison shook her head. “No. What good would they do?”

  “I need a tension wrench, something I can hold down to release the lock on top.” Brianna patted her pockets searching for anything that might work when the distinctive pop of gunfire sounded from inside the building.

  Brianna’s eyes went wide and she spun to face the parking lot. “Find a rock! We’re going in. Now.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WALTER

  Student Health Center, CSU Chico

  6:30 p.m.

  Night raids are the worst. Walter would have traded an air strike any day for entering a hostile situation on the ground with no support other than a handful of green kids with no combat experience.

  From the cockpit of an F/A-18, he could acquire his target, launch his strike, and be out and away before anyone could even fire a shot. Anonymous and lethal, just the way he liked it.

  This was neither. Ground combat with crap for weapons, only enough ammunition to play Russian roulette, and no visuals on the potential hostiles inside combined to make this mission incredibly stupid. And yet there he was, crouched in front of a metal door with a kid who outweighed him by fifty pounds standing around with his thumb up his rear end.

  Walter exhaled. If his wife and Drew didn’t need this medicine so badly, he would have taken his time to prepare. Gone in for reconnaissance a few times before busting the door down and making a scene. But Tracy assured him Drew needed antibiotics yesterday.

  One look at the puss oozing from the man’s swollen wound and Walter agreed. If they didn’t pump Drew full of antibiotics soon, they would lose him. Walter wasn’t going to let that happen. Not after he dragged that man’s sorry ass through the tail end of a riot, broke the news about his dead fiancée, and got them both out of the city before the barricades shut them in.

  He pushed down on the bent paperclip and shoved the unfolded one into the remaining space inside the lock. With his one hand maintaining downward pressure, Walter raked the straightened paperclip toward him, attempting to lift the pins inside the lock and unlock the front door.

  Leave it to the student health center to cheap out on their hardware. A simple lock like this was easy to pick, even if it took a few tries. After raking his hand several more times, he heard a pin move. That’s it. A handful more attempts and another two lifted. He tried the handle. It turned.

  “How did you do that?”

  Peyton’s hushed question made him smile. “Practice.”

  He wished he could be doing this mission alone. To risk his daughter and her friends for the sake of his wife and a man none of them knew too well didn’t seem fair. But he couldn’t keep Madison away, and her friends would be an asset whether Walter wanted to admit it or not.

  With a deep breath, Walter leaned back and let out a cardinal’s call—three small chirps, a pause, then another three. Hopefully Madison and Brianna were ready. He turned to Peyton as he stood. “Stay close.”

  Walter pulled a pistol from his waistband before swinging the door open. As it shut behind them, Walter clicked on his flashlight. He would have loved a little tactical version—something made of cast aluminum with rugged notches for grip and an adjustable beam. But the cheap trunk flashlight he scavenged from the rental car would have to do. Between that and the paper clips, that car was coming in handy.

  With a flick on and off of the flashlight, Walter assessed the situation, handgun light and easy in his shooting hand. They stood in a waiting area about the size of Walter’s living room before it turned to ash.

  Nothing looked disturbed. Either they were incredibly lucky and the health center hadn’t been looted or whoever was hiding out had been neat and tidy.

  A hallway beyond led deeper into the building and an elevator off to the right at one time gave access to the upper floors. Now it just sat frozen in place like a Lego brick for a giant.

  Peyton clicked on his flashlight—a slim little thing sold by the checkouts at sporting goods stores. It wasn’t bad for a dollar. With an LED bulb, it might outlast them all.

  Walter reached out and turned it off.

  “Only use it when you have to. Quick bursts of light on and off. If there’s someone else in here, your flashlight will tell them exactly where you are. It’s easier to stay hidden in the dark.” He let the flashlight go. “Think firefly, not floodlight.”

  Peyton shifted beside him. “Got it.”

  “Good.” Walter motioned toward the wall. “Check the directory. See if you can find the pharmacy. I’m going to scope out the reception area.”

  Peyton headed for the far wall and Walter turned toward reception. The desk sat empty, a coffee mug abandoned on the top along with a stack of papers and a cup full of pens.

  He leaned against the wall and used three bursts of light in different areas to scope inside the space. Empty. Walter hopped the desk and landed in a crouch. With his gun in his right hand and flashlight in his left, Walter crossed his arms at the wrists and crept forward.

  There were so many places to hide. So many dead areas. He pulsed the light again.

  Walter hadn’t trained in ground combat or urban warfare since before Madison was born. Sure, he could shoot a handgun and a rifle and kept in shape, but he was no seasoned infantry Marine. He forced a breath into his lungs.

  All that mattered was keeping his daughter and his wife safe and finding antibiotics. He shoved his momentary doubt aside. His family came first. He would walk through hell and back out again if it meant they could survive.

  He flicked the light and climbed back over the desk. Peyton stood by the directory, not moving in the darkness. “Did you find it?”

  “Suite 108. I’m assuming that’s somewhere here on the first floor.”

  Walter nodded. “Stay behind me. We’ll have to clear the hall and any rooms as we approach. If a gunfight starts, take cover anywhere you can.”

  “I can shoot. I’m not great at it, but I can shoot.”

  “I’d rather keep you alive. If I’m worried about where you are, I won’t be as effective. Got it?”

  Peyton grumbled his acceptance and Walter pressed forward. They needed to get on with it. With Madison and Brianna sneaking in the back, Walter had to clear the first floor and find the pharmacy as soon as possible.

  He headed toward the hallway. Without any light from outside, the building was pitch black. No amount of adjusting to the darkness would give his eyes enough light to see. He turned on the flashlight and swept the hall.

  Nothing.

  Maybe they really were lucky.

  Approaching the firs
t door, Walter reached for the handle.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TRACY

  Parking lot, CSU Chico

  7:00 p.m.

  Sitting around waiting for her husband, daughter, and two more college kids to return from a drug run wasn’t how Tracy envisioned a single night of her life unfolding. But there she was, stuck with an injured hand and no way to help. She snorted her frustration out her nose and spun around.

  “Enough waiting. We need a camp.”

  Tucker glanced up from his spot on the trunk of the Jetta. “What do you mean?”

  “A place to stay and regroup for a day or two. If everyone makes it out of the student health center alive and they get medicine, Drew needs to take it and rest. We can’t go anywhere until he’s a bit more stable.”

  Tucker turned and peered into the back of the Jetta. “Do you think antibiotics will even work?”

  Tracy wished she knew. “All we can do is hope. But in the meantime, we can make him more comfortable and give us all a place to rest. If we stay up in shifts, at least we can all get a few hours of sleep later.”

  “Makes sense.” Tucker pointed up the road. In the growing dark, they couldn’t see anything beyond the buildings at the edge of the parking lot. “Houses start about a block that way. When we drove by, they didn’t look all that bad. I bet we can find one to use for a while.”

  “Good. I’ll check on Drew and secure the Jetta. You put anything away that came from the Jeep and lock it up. We can check out the houses together.”

  Tracy walked over to the rear seat where Drew rested and bent down to feel his pulse. His heart still pumped, but his breath came even more shallow than the last time she had checked. Even if they did get him medicine, it might be too late. Tracy pushed up to stand and eased the door shut.

  As long as Drew stayed still, no one would notice him from the road. They couldn’t keep an enterprising thief from breaking into the cars, but hopefully they wouldn’t be gone for long.

 

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