Surviving The EMP (Book 6): Final Stand

by Casey, Ryan

  She rushed to Jade’s side, past the other fallen bodies. Arrows continued to whoosh towards them. But Emma couldn’t focus on anything else. Only Jade.

  She grabbed her, lifted her up.

  “You’re okay, Jade. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you. We’re getting away from this.”

  But Jade wasn’t in a good way.

  Her face had gone pale. The arrow poked out of the front of her neck. Blood oozed down her skin towards the ground. She couldn’t say a word.

  All she could do was hold Emma’s hand. Grip onto it, tightly.

  Fear in her eyes.

  “It’s okay. I’m here for you. You’re—you’re going to be okay. Just stay with me. Please stay with me.”

  Jade held on to Emma’s hand. Emma knew she had to try something. She had to get that arrow out of her neck. It was the only way she could save her.

  But more blood pooled out by the second.

  Not just out of her neck, but out of her mouth, too.

  So all she could do was hold her hand.

  All she could do was comfort her.

  In any way she could.

  She crouched over Jade. Shook her head. Behind, Emma could hear Trent urging her to get to her feet, shouting at her that they had to leave, that he was sorry but there was nothing they could do.

  But all Emma did was crouch there.

  All she did was stare into Jade’s beautiful green eyes.

  All she did was hold on to her hand and comfort her.

  “Ssh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  Jade’s eyes darted. Her breathing was heavy. But gradually, over time, as Emma crouched by her side, her eyelids grew heavier. Her breathing eased. Her hand didn’t grip hers quite so tightly.

  Just comfortably, now.

  “It’s okay,” Emma said, battling with the tears. “It’s okay.”

  Jade’s eyes closed. Her fingers loosened. And for a moment, Emma thought that was it. She thought it was over. She thought Jade was gone.

  But then something unexpected happened.

  Jade opened her eyes.

  Looked up at Emma.

  Smiled.

  “Thank you... for making me hope again.”

  She tightened her grip around Emma’s hand.

  And then her eyes closed again.

  Her grip loosened.

  She stopped struggling.

  Emma crouched there and cried. She put her head on Jade’s body. She’d spent so long away from her best friend. So long wondering whether she was even still alive.

  And now she was gone.

  She had no idea how long she lay there on her chest when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  She looked around.

  Trent was standing there. Hannah stood by his side. “Come on, Emma. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. There’s no more time. We have to go.”

  Emma knew Trent was right.

  But she couldn’t help turning around.

  She couldn’t help looking ahead.

  And in the distance, she saw Renae.

  Her body flooded with hate. An urge for revenge filled her system.

  Because Renae had done this.

  That evil bitch had done this.

  And she wasn’t going to get away with it.

  She let go of Jade’s hand and launched herself forward.

  Trent pulled her back.

  She tried to shake free. “Let me go.”

  “No,” Trent said.

  She kicked out, tried to push past his grip. “Let me get to her. Let me—”

  “No!”

  She looked into Trent’s eyes, and at that moment, she felt such hatred towards him. She felt such animosity.

  Because she wanted to get her revenge.

  She wanted Renae to pay.

  But at the same time... she knew Trent was right.

  She knew they had to get away.

  She knew rushing after Renae was suicide.

  “I’m sorry, Emma,” he said. “I’m sorry. But we need to leave this place. Now.”

  She went to push against his arms again.

  But this time, her body just flopped forward.

  The little strength she had drifted away from her.

  She looked across the shipyard towards Renae, crossbow in hand, and her fist tensed.

  She stared right into her wide eyes. Into her smiling face.

  And she tensed her jaw.

  “You’ll pay for this. One way or another. You’ll pay.”

  She pushed herself forward again.

  The urge for revenge flooding her system.

  And then she felt her body collapse into Trent’s arms.

  She felt him drag her away.

  Felt all of them walking away from this shipyard, leaving the hell they’d been trapped in behind.

  But all the way, she couldn’t take her eyes from Renae.

  All the way, she couldn’t let go of what she was going to do to her.

  How she was going to make her suffer.

  How she was going to make her pay.

  Because this was far from over.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jefe stood over the bodies of his fallen companions, and he felt sadness build within.

  And through it all, he tried to keep on smiling.

  Because that’s what they had to show. Happiness. Optimism.

  Strength.

  It was dark. The sun had just set. The night was always an intimidating time for his enemies. Because his people had mastered the art of stealth. They worked as a unit. Crept up on their enemies in the night. Disoriented them.

  But that wasn’t going to be quite as straightforward anymore.

  Not now there was only a handful of them left.

  He looked around at his people. Some of them looked defeated as they sat by the sides of the shipping containers. Some of them still had their chins up like they were ready to fight whatever they had to.

  That was the spirit Jefe had to awaken in these people.

  Because as much as he had been wounded, he wasn’t dead yet.

  As much as his group had been broken... they were still standing.

  And they were going to keep on standing.

  He heard footsteps to his right. Saw Renae approaching.

  Renae was one of his most trusted companions. She was beta to his alpha. She was ruthless, and she was committed. She would never waver from his cause.

  She looked over the bodies at a few of the fallen then back up at Jefe. “We did what we could. Nothing could’ve prepared us for this.”

  Jefe smiled. Renae had a way of pre-empting what Jefe was thinking. She thought he needed reassurance—and she was right. His faith in this entire project had been attacked. It felt like it was crumbling. The thought of starting over, right from the beginning... it filled him with fear. Because it was going to be anything but easy.

  But then he looked around at the people that were still standing.

  He looked around at the shipyard.

  He thought about the way he’d turned people to his side of things here. How he’d convinced them to follow his leadership. Because his way was the only way forward. No emotions. No being held back by sentimentality.

  And he had to embrace that attitude for himself.

  He had to remember the principles he tried to install in others.

  He took a deep breath. Thought of Cally. Thought of all he’d lost.

  And then he told himself to remember his own principles.

  No emotion.

  Emotion held the human race back. Emotion got people into the mess they were in now.

  Just pragmatism.

  Pure pragmatism.

  That’s what was needed.

  “We suffered a great loss here today,” Jefe said.

  Everyone looked up at him. Some of them seemed ready for what he had to say. Others looked more downtrodden. Defeated.

  He took another deep breath. Looked around at these people once again. These loyal followers. Th
ese friends.

  “But it doesn’t have to be the end of us. Now, don’t get me wrong. We’ve suffered greatly. We’ve lost companions. Friends. And we should feel that pain. We should feel the anger that results from loss. Because anger is natural. But it’s about how we channel that anger that’s important. How we use it.”

  He stood there. Looked at his people. He knew his message was being muddied. Vengeance was something he discouraged. Getting caught up in emotions was something he advised against.

  And he knew where it stemmed from.

  His own loss.

  His own trauma.

  His own knowledge of how much that complicated things.

  But then he thought about the pain he’d felt from losing Cally.

  He thought about how he’d used that pain to get himself to where he was now.

  To get them all to where they were now.

  And he knew sometimes there were times when he had to be flexible with his philosophy.

  “When Cally died, I felt broken. Betrayed by life. I almost lost sight of everything. I almost died, right in that first week. But instead, I used that pain. The worst pain I’d ever experienced. I used it to break through. I used it to help me see how we could improve. He we could grow stronger. I used it to gain clarity.”

  All his people looked back at him.

  All of them hanging on to his every word.

  All of them waiting.

  “What are we going to do?” Renae asked.

  Jefe looked at her, and he smiled.

  Then, he looked back at the rest of his people.

  “We’re going to go after our new friends,” he said. “We’re going to ambush them. And we’re going to make them regret ever crossing us. We’re going to crush them. Once and for all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jack walked off into the night, the memory of Pete’s death replaying over and over again.

  It was pitch black. The woods felt thick and suffocating. He didn’t know where they were exactly. Only that they were heading in roughly the right direction. Because there was only one direction they could go now. Towards Barrow. Back in the direction of the place with the helicopters.

  They’d made it out of Jefe’s shipyard. Jack and his people had stared death in the face. There were times when he genuinely didn’t think he’d get away. But then Susan, Trent, and Pete had arrived out of nowhere.

  He couldn’t account for Trent right now. Didn’t know where he was. Just hopeful that he’d got away with Emma and the others. The last time he’d seen him, he’d been leading Emma and a few other people away from the shipyard.

  Jack felt reassured when they reached the place a mile or so outside the shipyard where Susan insisted they’d left Villain, because Villain was gone. And there was a note beside the place he’d been tied up with a thumbs up. Susan said that was the signal. Confirmation Trent had reached Villain. Confirmation they’d made it out of the shipyard. That their journey had begun.

  Jack had mixed emotions about that, of course. He wanted to see his big furball again. But he had to hope Susan was right.

  But as they waded through the night—Jack, Susan, Hazel, Candice, a woman called Mary—Jack couldn’t focus on the slushy, snowy ground in front of him. He couldn’t even think about how much his body hurt from his many beatings this last day.

  All he could think about was Pete’s sacrifice.

  The trade.

  Susan’s escape.

  But Pete giving himself up for Susan’s survival.

  He thought about how Pete walked up to Jefe. How he’d stood there opposite him, then knelt before him.

  He thought of the way Jefe’s eyes lit up.

  The way he’d lifted that knife.

  The way he’d cut Pete’s throat.

  He remembered the way Pete hit the ground. The way he’d looked over, not just at Hazel but at Jack. And it reminded Jack of the way he’d looked at him when he’d first seen him when his and Hazel’s relationship became official. Or that time when he’d thrown a rock against the ground when they were kids, and it’d shattered into pieces, one of those sharp shards landing in Jack’s eye.

  He looked at Jack like he was sorry. Truly sorry.

  And Jack hadn’t even had the chance to forgive him.

  Jack looked around at his people. He saw Hazel walking alone, staring into the darkness. Candice held on to Susan, helping her walk along. Susan wasn’t in a good way. She needed to get to Barrow fast. And even then, she needed urgent medical attention. She’d been stabbed, and it looked like she was suffering through a nasty fever. Her survival wasn’t guaranteed. It was a miracle she’d even got this far.

  But it was about frigging time they had a miracle. It was about time something went their way.

  A woman called Mary joined them on the way out. Apparently she’d been trapped with Hazel and Emma. She seemed quiet. Traumatised about something. Jack couldn’t blame her. She’d probably seen shit that haunted her.

  He thought about Trent and the others. He didn’t know where they were at. But he had to hope Susan was right about the thumbs-up symbol. They were heading towards Barrow. They were going to be okay.

  And Jack’s group was going to run into them at some stage.

  Everything was going to work out.

  He looked over at Hazel again. He didn’t want to disturb her. Not while she was still in shock.

  But he tensed his fists. Walked over to her.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Hazel glanced around at him. Her eyes were bloodshot. She half-smiled at him. She looked broken, in all truth. She’d suffered way too much already. Everyone she’d had by her side, she’d lost.

  Everyone but him.

  She looked away. Stared ahead. “Let’s just get to this place and—”

  “It hurts,” Jack said. “I know... I know it hurts. ’Cause I lost him too.”

  She looked around at him then. And at that moment, it was like Jack himself was only just realising the ramifications of what he was talking about.

  Pete was his best friend.

  He might’ve grown to hate him. But he was still his best friend.

  He’d lost him years ago to circumstance.

  And just when he’d felt on the brink of reconciliation, he’d lost him again.

  “It should’ve been me,” Jack said.

  Hazel shook her head. “Jack.”

  “I’m supposed to lead this group. It shouldn’t have been Pete. It should’ve...”

  He realised then he couldn’t talk anymore. His throat tightened. Tears blurred his vision.

  And then he felt Hazel’s hand on his arm.

  “I know,” she said. “I know.”

  He turned to her, and he fell into her arms, as she fell into his.

  “I never got over losing him,” he said. “Because... because I lost both of you. Not just you. I lost both of you.”

  They held on to one another in the darkness. And as little specks of snow fell from above, they cried together.

  Eventually, when they’d finished crying, they looked at one another again. It felt better, in a way. Better to get it out of his system. Like it wasn’t just today’s loss he was reeling from, but years of loss.

  He looked around at Candice and Susan, walking together. He looked at Mary, who looked exhausted, petrified.

  And then he looked at the dark road ahead at the edge of the woods.

  “Let’s get to Barrow,” he said. “Let’s find our people. And let’s finish this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Emma couldn’t get Jade out of her mind.

  It was late. They were in the middle of the woods. They’d started a fire, which all of them had sat around earlier before the bulk of the camp went to sleep. Trent. Hannah. Villain. Two other men Emma didn’t know; people who they’d rescued from Jefe’s camp. She didn’t want to get to know them. Didn’t want to get to know anyone else.

  Because it would only make it even more painfu
l when she lost them.

  Just like she lost everybody.

  She stared into the crackling flames. Villain lay by her side, pushed right up against her. She didn’t even pet him. Just let him lie there, all warm against her leg. She didn’t eat any of the squirrel they’d caught a couple of hours ago.

  She just sat there and stared.

  Revenge stewing inside her.

  Hate seeping through her veins.

  She thought of Jade. The way she’d held her hand. The way she’d told her she was grateful for giving her hope. And then the way her hand had gone still in hers. And just thinking about it was painful.

  But every time she thought about it, only one thing made her feel slightly better.

  The thought of getting her revenge on Renae.

  She thought about cutting her fingers off, one by one. Then tearing her arms and legs away. She thought about gouging her eyes out with her fingers, laughing as her blood spurted up towards her. She knew she was wrong for thinking these thoughts. They weren’t the kind of thoughts a young girl should be having. She knew people would say it made her a creep, or insane.

  But it was the only thing that would make her better.

  Revenge.

  “You okay, kiddo?”

  Emma looked around. Hannah was sitting beside her.

  Emma glanced away from her. Covered her missing hand instinctively. “Don’t want to talk.”

  Hannah chewed on a bit of squirrel and sighed. She was on guard, so she was supposed to be the only one awake right now. “I know how it is. Feels good to bottle it up. To stew on it. To torture them, in your mind. Feels like the only way of getting some kind of release, hmm?”

  Emma looked back at her. “What do you want?”

  Hannah shrugged. “I’m just saying. I know what it’s like to lose someone. And I know what it’s like to hate someone for taking them away from you. And as much as people tell you revenge doesn’t even work... well, that’s not always true.”

  Emma’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  Hannah stared into the flames. “Three months ago, I lost my daughter.”

  Emma frowned. “Daughter?”

  “Yeah. Daughter. Young mum, I know. Don’t judge. But anyway. My Hetti, she was a fighter. Two years old, she was. You have any idea what it’s like looking after a two-year-old in this world? No. You’ve no idea what kind of strength that takes. What kind of sacrifices you have to make.”