Darkest Storm: Book 3 of the Thrilling Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series: (The Long Fall - Book 3)

by Logan Keys

  A crowd had gathered around to hear more. One young girl stood with her hands in her pockets. “The fires were so bad,” she’d said with a haunted gaze. “People started jumping.”

  Bart told them afterwards that maybe the hole would start small and keep growing, sort of like quick sand, as the foundation below shifted. He’d felt people would be in danger anywhere near the fault line as it rippled across the U.S. The reports they’d listened to were too mixed to really know. Did it take up the whole U.S., sectioning off each side? No one had been able to say for sure. The country was in chaos. Either way, they were going to see if they could get across somewhere further north and then make the trip onward to New York.

  Colton was nervous about the journey. “A destroyed Chicago is going to be a madhouse,” he’s reminded them several times. But Brittany had pointed out that everyone was leaving the city as far as she’d seen. Her stubbornness was her downfall. Brittany knew that she could be a mule about things. And this time, it cost her dearly, because even as she was being self-aware of her faults, the van sputtered, made a desperate chugging sound, and died.

  “Oh no,” Brittany whispered, pulling it off the side of the road. “No. No. No.”

  Everyone was silent as she parked the van, but she felt the “I told you so” permeate the air.

  “How far are we from the city?” Bart asked.

  “Ummm.” She checked the map. “About twenty miles.”

  “That’s doable,” Colton said, trying to sound optimistic.

  “Oh!” Brittany pointed at the map. “There’s a town just a mile away. They might have gas.”

  “Worth a shot,” Colton said. “I need to stretch my legs.”

  “It’s freezing out,” Bart warned.

  Colton grinned. “Good thing we’ve got this winter clothing, eh?”

  Brittany knew he was trying to soften the blow of her mistake. Plus, he was always looking for a silver lining. That was his M.O. Always bright siding the fact that the world as they knew it was gone. Even if everything straightened up by tomorrow, no one would feel safe, and entire families had perished, cities even. But here was Colton, trying to stay cheerful.

  Bart was pressing his face against the window, looking out at the same dipping vermillion sun Brittany had been. “Maybe someone should stay back with the kids instead of making them walk,” Bart said. “I can stay,” he offered.

  “I should do it,” Brittany said, though she really didn’t want to wait.

  “Bart can do it.” Colton was already out of the car before she could protest.

  Brittany got out slowly. “You don’t want to leave me by myself, is that it?”

  “Yup.”

  Bart was already grabbing a blanket and snuggling in. He leaned forward and locked the door.

  Colton knocked on the window. “You have your gun?”

  Bart nodded and waved goodbye, making a big show out of how warm he was inside the van. Brittany rolled her eyes but stuffed her hands into her gloves with a smile, and then shoved them in her jacket pockets. It really was cold. One last time she glanced into the window and made sure the children were still asleep. She wanted to say goodbye, but they needed rest.

  “Only going to get colder in Chicago,” Colton warned, stepping off towards the direction of the town.

  “But that’s the best way, Bart said.” She walked faster to keep up.

  Colton only shrugged. He wasn’t sure about their idea of going north, but he hadn’t offered one of his own.

  When Brittany managed to take big enough steps to match his stride, Colton chuckled. “You’re pretty stubborn, you know that?”

  Brittany kicked rocks and moved off the side of the highway into the dirt. She was conscious that people might not be driving so carefully while afraid and fleeing. “Tell me about it,” she muttered, still mentally chiding herself for not at least trying to stop at one of the gas stations earlier.

  Colton shook his head but didn’t say anything else. They focused on walking and not stepping into any of the cracks in the earth. The brisk pace they set was keeping them warm, so she was glad that Colton walked like he was on ruck march with his platoon. Like he could go on for miles and miles even though she felt exhaustion beating her down.

  The sun was barely above the horizon when Brittany glanced back, the van now invisible. “How far have we walked, you think?”

  “About half a mile, I’d say.”

  “That’s all?”

  Brittany picked up the pace, rushing off towards town as fast as she could. She started to get anxiety about leaving the kids past dark. She trusted Bart, and Colton, but those children were her responsibility.

  “Hmm,” said Colton, catching up with ease. “Looks like a wreck.”

  Brittany hadn’t noticed the big SUV on its side up ahead on the highway; she’d been staring at the ground and their long shadows. She wasn’t surprised that there was a crash, though. The earthquake had damaged the highway, albeit less than the towns they’d been in. It wasn’t completely demolished like they were. From a distance, they could tell it was a police cruiser. Brittany and Colton rushed over to make sure no one was hurt, but when they got closer, a dog stepped out from around from the back and lunged at Brittany with a furious bark. A big German Shepherd snapped its jaws at her until they backed away.

  Colton put his hands up and Brittany mimicked him. The dog was obviously terrified after the wreck, blood matted his thick coat on one side, though Brittany couldn’t see any injuries.

  “Nobody make any sudden movements!” An officer appeared from behind the cruiser with his gun trained on Brittany and Colton. He had blood on his hands and uniform, a cut split open underneath one eye across a cheekbone.

  “Oh,” he breathed, putting the gun down, “I’m sorry.”

  “What’s going on?” Colton asked firmly.

  “Sorry about that.” The officer holstered his weapon and came over. “Rex. Come here, boy. Heel. Come here.”

  The dog glanced at the officer and then sulked around the cruiser, whining and scratching at it like someone was still inside.

  “What happened?” Brittany asked.

  The officer got a leash on his dog. “We were transporting two prisoners. One got away—I was knocked out after the crash. My partner didn’t make it and neither did the other prisoner.” He motioned at the SUV grimly. “That’s why I was so jumpy.”

  “Can you call for backup?” Colton asked.

  “The radio’s busted. I must have been out for a while after the crash and when I woke up, I was disoriented. I’ve been hoping someone would come along but no one has.”

  “Yeah, everyone’s leaving the city.”

  He nodded. “They must be.”

  “We’re on our way to get gas at the town just half a mile away,” Brittany offered.

  “That close?” he said, scratching his head. “I’m not from here, I drove up from Marion. My first time up here, really. These guys were from the penitentiary. They were going to Chicago for a bit until we got more room. That’s when the earthquake hit and I lost control.”

  “You want to come with us? We’re trying to get to town to find some gas so we can get back on the road.”

  The officer nodded and took the German Shepherd’s leash in hand. The dog was reluctant to listen to him when he tried to pull him along. He laughed. “Rex here is still in training. A bit of a rough start.” Rex pulled on the leash and barked at the officer. Once he got him calmed down, they started walking toward the gas station again.

  “My name’s Rick, by the way.” The officer’s dark eyes gave Brittany a once over.

  She shrugged off a chill from the glance, sending a quick look over at Colton. “Brittany and Colton,” Brittany replied quietly in introduction.

  “The men you were transporting—the one that got away?” Colton asked. “I’ve heard of the prison in Marion. That place houses a lot of Al-Qaeda operatives.”

  “Yeah, this guy was just a regular joe, t
hough. I mean, he was a real son of a bitch, if you get my meaning. But not like a terrorist or anything. You in the service?”

  Rick seemed to size Colton up.

  “Army.”

  “Well, all right then. A good guy!”

  After that strange lead in, Rick offered little conversation, but Brittany figured that perhaps he was still addled from the crash. When the off-ramp appeared, she was glad for it. She needed a break from the cold. It was getting worse the closer they got Chicago. She hadn’t realized what a difference a few degrees could make. There was a station right off the exit, but it had a line of cars down the street and people stood in another one from the register that wound around the building. “I need to get a gas can from inside anyway,” Colton said when they both hesitated at the edge of the crowd, dreading standing in line in the freezing cold.

  Inside of the store, it was crammed full, elbow to elbow, and very little was left on the shelves. When Brittany asked about the gas can, the man told her they were sold out. Defeated, she used the restroom after waiting in yet another line, and when she came back out, people were shouting and shoving one another. She couldn’t get to the door.

  Colton found her, and pulled her through the bodies as people yelled over her head.

  “But I need gas!”

  “I was first!”

  “That man just cut in line!”

  Brittany tugged on Colton’s sleeve. “I think we should go.”

  But he was busy tapping on Rick’s shoulder. The cop was watching the arguments with interest. “Don’t you think you should do something?” Colton asked.

  Rick looked surprised. Brittany was glad he had his hand on Rex’s collar and was keeping him from biting someone in this mess. “Uh. Everyone, would you please calm down,” he said loudly, and people turned towards him for a millisecond before shrugging him off and arguing angrily once again. Rick shook his head. “I’m not really able to take on an entire crowd of people without backup. Maybe you can find gas somewhere else? If you guys are headed to Chicago maybe Rex and I can hitch a ride?”

  “I think that’ll be all right,” Brittany said. “But where will we get gas?” No one had an answer for that.

  Dogs could sense things before they happen, it seemed, and in that moment, Rex went crazy. He lunged at the end of his leash, dragging Rick towards the door. The flash of light that followed was their only other warning. It was like white lightning, and Brittany was blinded by it being closest to the window. Colton was the only one with the presence of mind to do something. He grabbed Brittany and threw her to the ground and Rick also dove down. Colton then started sliding on his belly backwards, dragging her with him. She let him guide her where she needed to go, her eyesight still adjusting.

  Glass shattered over her as the second explosion shook the place, knocking shelves and people over. Brittany rolled to the side, covering her ears, and Colton was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him. His mouth kept moving, and his worried eyes were locked onto hers as it felt like someone turned the heat up to a thousand degrees.

  **

  The world was on fire, and Colton was trying to get Brittany to stand up. “We have to get out of here!” Colton shouted, but his own words were far away and barely audible. She just kept watching him, her face stuck in one fearful expression.

  He was numb. His body felt distant. He knew it was his brain being sluggish to respond from being concussed by the explosion. He was still recovering from the shelves having fallen on him in that house before, and now this latest incident had made his back throb anew. One of the gas lines must have had a leak after the earthquake and something had sparked it. But one explosion led to more when a place was virtually made of fuel.

  Brittany was the one to lurch to her feet first, and together they made it to the now glassless door. She held onto her head, her expression pained, hearing the same piercing ring that Colton no doubt was. He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside where she paused, eyes wide with panic. She resembled a spooked horse in the face of her worst fear, her mass of dirty blonde hair half out of her pony tail, her nostrils flaring in response to the burning gas. He tugged her onward, but she was rooted to the spot like a statue.

  Colton glanced back to see what she saw; a billowing, raging inferno climbing upwards from dark orange to an atomic tangerine and finally black that blotted out the sky. People were running from the pumps and a few were on fire, their forms dancing in agony. They screamed as they and their cars burned like torches, and there was nothing either Brittany or Colton could do. It was the horror out of the horrors they’d faced. Flesh had a certain smell when it burned, but he knew he only imagined that stench over the top of the others as the gasoline funk was already coating his lungs and mouth. The rest of what happened felt like slow motion. He yelled they had to go again. Not waiting, he dragged Brittany against her rigid stance. There would be further explosions, and he wasn’t ready to watch her burn like everyone else, so he yanked her arm roughly, running straight through toward a blue spot in the distance that looked safe and breathable…it looked like survival.

  Brittany allowed herself to be towed along straight into the fire and death, and pain and suffering. She was now running along, her feet churning under her, the world coming apart around her in unspeakable ways. But she wasn’t resisting any longer; she was now pacing alongside Colton. They both knew time was running out. Another explosion rocketed behind them, and neither looked back or slowed.

  Colton felt untethered from his body, as if he’d already died. He raced through hell on earth. He was in the valley of the shadow of death. And he looked neither left nor right, because he felt that if he did, it would keep him there.

  The patch of blue caught them and spat them out of the smoke and fire, but Colton wanted to get even further away. Brittany was coughing and hacking, and he was, too, but he wheezed a warning. “We have to keep going. At least across the street.”

  She nodded, her face covered in black now, making her eyes look extra white. They moved across the street and turned to watch as more parts of the station blew up. A dog barking made Colton squint into the fire. Just then, Rex flew out of the smoke followed by Rick. He was sweating, and his arm was burned, but he was alive. Rex looked like his coat was singed a bit, but seemed to be okay. They both made it to where Brittany and Colton were before Rick collapsed. He was breathing louder than both of them. “I’m okay,” he said to Brittany as she leaned down to check his arm. “I’m okay. Really.”

  Rex was busy barking at them over and over.

  “It’s all right,” Brittany whispered, her voice gone. She grabbed his leash and petted his fur. “It’s going to be all right, boy.”

  Colton knew Brittany was trying not to watch the poor people burning alive at the station. He knew she was afraid of looking and so was he. The sun was sinking behind the small hills and Colton thought about how at any other moment it might be pretty. Instead, it was just another sun setting on disaster.

  Chapter Eight

  Staten Island, New York

  Michelle sat up too quickly after waking. Her head swam, and she felt faint for a moment, vertigo spinning the dark room sideways. When it righted itself, she glanced around wildly, disoriented by the sound of someone in her bedroom. Then she realized there were several someone’s in her bedroom and this wasn’t her room at all. She was at Bob’s house, and they’d brought home the older lady, Mrs. Haverstick, and Mr. Chung from the hospital the night before.

  Half the neighborhood was also staying there and her room had filled to the brim with people she couldn’t even remember the names of. A young couple of newlyweds who were expecting named Frank and Alice, and a Hispanic man, his wife, and their three kids who didn’t speak English. Since Donny was fluent in several languages, he could speak to them and Mr. Chung. She had given her bed to Mr. Chung and she was on the floor while another roll-out bed was on the other side with Mrs. Haverstick and Mrs. Anderson, Carry and Bob’s neighbor.

/>   Mr. Chung had been pale and shaken from his attack up until they got him put in bed, and Michelle wanted to check on him but didn’t want to wake him. The room was cold, but Bob said they could only warm the house so much without running quickly out of firewood. She shivered and even though she’d slept in her jacket and pants—with thermal clothes underneath those—she was freezing.

  Michelle stepped over bodies, pillows, and blankets to creep down the hall, rubbing her hands together, alarmed to see her breath fogging inside the house. Maybe they had already run out of gas? Maybe they would all freeze. There was a clock on the wall she’d missed the day before and she squinted in the low light to see it was seven a.m. She was rising so late but the darkness outside made her feel like it must be much earlier.

  The house was so quiet it felt like something was wrong. When she got closer to the kitchen, she heard low voices, male mostly, discussing something quietly.

  “The wood will last at least a month if we use space heaters when the generators are on. The food will last a lot less than that, though. Water is good. I think we have enough water for a couple months.”

  Bob nodded at Dawson, the man she’d met yesterday. He and his sons had come late the previous night with plenty of goods, and she noticed they were locked and loaded, too. Good, she thought. Since her run-in with Reese’s thugs, she didn’t want to risk not being ready next time. Dawson’s two sons also sat next to him. They were tall, college age, and they were nodding and listening like well-trained hounds—meaning they had a sharp eye and ear for everything going on. They worked as a unit, smoothly, she’d noticed, all three of them, as if this was something they had planned for their entire lives. While that was strange in a peaceful society, Michelle bet now that everything was falling apart, the trio would be a great asset to the house and have the last laugh on anyone who had negatively judged their prepping before.

  Carry came in just then, and as she passed by, she touched Michelle’s shoulder, giving it a meaningful squeeze. Carry and Michelle were already like two peas in a pod. She was the savior of Bob’s fate to the family and though she tried to explain numerous times that it was the other way around, they didn’t care. Michelle, to the family, was tied to Bob returning home to them, so she was given special treatment by his children and wife. Not that she minded that part. It was nice to have a family.