Collapse (After the Storm Book 2)

by Ryan Casey

  “Olivia,” I said, reaching the fence. I stalled, then. Because I didn’t want to go outside. I didn’t want to force myself out into that world of violence, either. It spread to me.

  And I didn’t want it to spread to me again.

  I’d already killed.

  “Will,” Kesha said, putting a hand on my arm.

  I batted her hand away. “I… I need you to go out there.”

  “Will.”

  “I need you to check on her. I need you to bring her back here. I need you to—”

  “Will!”

  I turned and looked at her then.

  And in the distance, behind Kesha, over by the block where Kesha was living, I saw a little girl with some beads around her neck, looking nervously at me.

  “Olivia!” I called.

  “She was with me,” Kesha said. “I told her I’d help her make some bracelets and necklaces—”

  “I’ll have a word with you later,” I said.

  I ran over to Olivia, unable to keep the anger, but mostly the fear, out of my voice. With everyone watching, I reached down and grabbed Olivia’s hand.

  “Dad!”

  “Come on,” I said. “You’re going back to your room.”

  “But—”

  “You’re grounded, lady.”

  I saw the judgemental glances in my direction. I saw the shaking heads. The rolling eyes. I knew they thought I was overprotective. And maybe I was.

  But this was my daughter.

  This was my little girl.

  And she wasn’t going out into the world outside the fences.

  She wasn’t going out into the evil.

  Chapter Three

  “But Dad, I—”

  “Don’t ‘but Dad’ me. There’s no leaving your room without telling me where you’re going.”

  “But the other kids—”

  “I don’t care about the other kids. You know the rules.”

  “I wasn’t even outside.”

  “No, but you don’t run away from your room without telling me where you’re going. Simple as that, lady.”

  Olivia looked up at me with wide, tearful, and somewhat hateful eyes, and a part of me felt terrible for keeping her so cooped up in this place.

  But I was doing it for her own good.

  I was doing it for her own safety.

  She sighed, and walked over to her bed. She slumped out on it flatly, face first. The afternoon sun peeked in through the windows. It was getting lower, as autumn approached all over again. The approach of autumn made me shiver a little. It reminded me too much of the early days. The days when I was in the middle of Tay Forest Park in Scotland. The days when the power went away, never to return.

  Or at least it sure seemed that way. It’d been around a year since the beginning of the end now, and as far as I could see it from where I was sitting, the world had only gone further down the drain in those days since. Many people had died. Looters would’ve gone door to door. People nearest to nuclear power stations were in big trouble, as their systems would’ve gone into total meltdown. Britain was a very unsafe place. And the rest of the world couldn’t be much better.

  In the early days, and some of the later days in truth, I’d still held out hope that maybe the power would just switch back on at some stage. Maybe law and order would be restored, and everyone would go back to their normal lives, their normal jobs, their normal existences.

  But now I saw that wasn’t possible. The reality? Nobody was going back to normality. Not even if the planet rediscovered any sense of normality. Because people had seen too much. They’d done too much.

  The thought of what I’d done, personally, gave me the shivers.

  I didn’t like to think about the people I’d killed.

  I didn’t like to think about the monster the outside world turned me into.

  And that was why it was better to just stay in here and survive.

  That was why it was better to shack down in this old low security prison, with a farm connected to it, totally self-sufficient and thriving with life, and make sure my daughter didn’t leave this place either.

  Looking after the farm animals wasn’t always the easiest. We had cows, sheep and chickens. Of course, we didn’t have the luxury of electricity on our side, so we had to do a lot of manual farming, planting of crops, things like that. We had to execute some of the farm animals by hand. But again, that had just become a normal part of this new world. It was better than the world outside.

  Because there was only evil outside.

  I didn’t want my daughter being touched by the evil.

  I heard a whine and looked to my right. Bouncer sat there, wagging his tail.

  “What’s that you’re saying, boy?” I said, ruffling Bouncer’s fur. “You want your sister to take you for a walk?”

  I looked back over at Olivia again. She was eight, and she was intelligent for an eight-year-old. But she could always be bribed by the promise of a walk with Bouncer.

  This time, she just didn’t look up.

  I sighed, feeling the weight drop from my shoulders. “Look, Olivia. I’m… I’m sorry, okay? It’s just difficult. It’s… it’s not easy for me either, all this. It’s like I’m feeling my way around a new world too. Trying to find the right way to… Sorry. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this. I just want you to know I’m trying my hardest. To keep you safe. To keep Bouncer safe.”

  “I just want things to be normal again,” Olivia said.

  There they were. The words I’d dreaded. The words that brought a sickly taste to my mouth.

  Of course my daughter wanted things to be normal again.

  But things weren’t going to be normal.

  And, intelligent as she was, how was I ever going to tell an eight-year-old she wasn’t going to go back to her old school again, or play her video games again?

  How was I ever going to tell an eight-year-old she wasn’t going to see her mother again?

  I inhaled rapidly when that thought passed through my mind. Kerry. It’d been so long since I’d last seen her. I’d gone all that way back down to Preston to find her and Olivia. And then I’d pushed even further down to Birmingham. I’d found Olivia. And I was so, so grateful for that. So thankful to whoever up there was helping me out.

  But I hadn’t found Kerry.

  And as far as I was aware… I wasn’t ever going to find Kerry.

  “Hey,” I said.

  I leaned over and squeezed my daughter’s shoulder.

  “What’re you—”

  “Come on,” I said. “You’re not too old for the tickle monster!”

  I tickled my daughter, trying to elicit a laughing response from her. And I did. Just for a moment, we were back in our old house, back when things were good, when we had nothing to worry about beyond what flavour spread we were going to put on our toast that day, or what we were going to watch on Netflix that night. Not real problems. Minor problems.

  For a moment, we were back in that world.

  Then we were back here again. In the dangerous world. In the now.

  I stroked Olivia’s dark hair. “Olivia… it’s difficult for things to be normal again. But I’m trying my best to make things… to make things okay for you.”

  “You’re good to play with, Dad. But Mum’s better to…”

  She didn’t finish her sentence. And I saw from the blushing in her cheeks that she thought she’d said something wrong.

  And it did hurt. I had to admit whatever Olivia held off from saying hurt. But I couldn’t begrudge her what she’d said. Because whatever she was going to say, she was probably right.

  I leaned over and kissed her head. “I know, love,” I said. “I know.”

  I got up from her bedside after a while and tickled Bouncer’s head.

  “Come on, lad. We’ll let your sister get some rest today.”

  I turned around and saw Olivia sitting there on her bed, cross-legged. She was paler these days. Dark circles under
her eyes. This world wasn’t the healthiest one to live in. Vitamin deficiencies were the norm. It wasn’t easy to get a full range of vitamins when you weren’t on a balanced diet. Interestingly though, a lot of people hadn’t thought to raid the multivitamins when the world collapsed. They’d been more interested in other things they thought were more pressing. So now, at Heathlock, we had a good supply of multivitamins to aid us. Pretty handy.

  There were of course other issues, too. A lack of immediately available medication meant that even the smallest of injuries could be pretty tragic. An old person getting a common cold could knock them out. And infection was rife, too. It all just came with the territory of a world where, like it or not, the vast majority of the population were dead. And the vast majority of that population hadn’t been burned, either.

  So Heathlock wasn’t ideal. But it was a damned sight healthier behind these fences than it was outside.

  “You just let me know. If you want to go anywhere.”

  Olivia’s glassy eyes met mine. “I won’t go anywhere, Dad. Don’t worry.”

  I turned around and left Olivia’s room.

  Those final words of hers stuck in my mind and made the back of my throat quiver.

  She thought she was making me happy by locking herself away in that room, away from any potential dangers.

  And the hardest part about it all?

  The most painful, horrifying reality to accept?

  Olivia was right.

  It did make me happy.

  And I could never shake that guilt I felt for feeling that way.

  Never.

  Chapter Four

  I knew it was only a matter of time before Kesha confronted me about the growing precariousness of our current situation.

  It happened later that afternoon. We’d gone for lunch, and I’d dropped by at Kesha’s. My stomach wasn’t even nearly full on the chicken I’d eaten. And that was simply because there weren’t a lot of chickens left. Something was happening to them, so we were having to seriously ration.

  But even so, I wasn’t hungry. Mostly because I was still feeling both anxious and guilty about what happened with Olivia earlier that day.

  “You can talk to me, you know?”

  I looked up, as I sat in the armchair at the opposite side of the room to Kesha. Bouncer rested his head on my feet. Kesha was stitching up some holes in her clothes. The moths had got to them. The damned moths were getting to everything these days. “About what?”

  Kesha lowered the top she was stitching and gave me a “don’t bullshit me” look. You know the look. “Come on, Will. I saw how you reacted earlier.”

  I felt my chest tensing. I really didn’t want to talk about the Olivia situation all over again. “She knows the rules. She tells me where she’s going before she leaves her room.”

  “She was with me.”

  “Still, she tells me before she goes anywhere.”

  “She’s a kid, Will. For heaven’s sakes. Jackie and Alex’s kids play outside the damned wall.”

  “Which worries me. Because I don’t want Olivia out there.”

  “You don’t want Olivia out there? Or you don’t want to go out there yourself?”

  I saw the way Kesha looked at me now. It felt like her eyes were burning right through me. And it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked. But my mouth was dry because I knew exactly what she meant.

  “I know you don’t want to face the world outside. I know you don’t want to go out there. And I can understand that. It’s a shitty world out there. I go out in it all the time on supply runs and searches. And trust me, it hasn’t got any better than when you last went out. Whenever the hell that was.”

  There was a stinging tone to those last words. Like she was grilling me, telling me to man up and face the world outside.

  Easier said than done.

  “But the life you’re living now. The life you’re forcing your daughter to live.”

  “I’m not forcing her to—”

  “It’s not a life. Not a life at all. I mean, I get you don’t want her outside the gates. Seriously, as safe as it is in the mile perimeter around us, which we check four times every damned day, I get that. But at least let her wander around the camp. At least let her have a little freedom. Jesus, Will. Weren’t you an eight-year-old once?”

  I thought back to my own childhood. The adventures I used to go on. The make-believe worlds I used to live in, ever changing by the hour. Sad, but those were undoubtedly the best years of my life and anyone’s life. No responsibilities. No worries. Shoulders to rest your head on at all times. Never in too deep.

  I thought about the dens my cousin and I used to build when we were at our grandparents’ caravan in the Lake District. The times we spent out there in the pouring rain. They were good times. And it pained me to think Olivia wasn’t going to be able to have experiences like that or live that childhood like she should be able to.

  But the world had changed. Like it always did. Things were different now.

  I had to face up to that.

  Olivia had to face up to that.

  “Besides,” Kesha said, glancing back down at her sewing needle. “It’s getting to the stage where I think we’re gonna have to go out in search of… of somewhere else.”

  I felt those words like a knife wound to the abdomen. “No.”

  “Supplies are dwindling. The fences are weakening. We’re finding new people. And the animals, they aren’t well. They aren’t breeding like they used to. The hens aren’t laying eggs.”

  “They’ll start again.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  I wanted to answer, but I couldn’t. Because my fear of going outside those fences controlled me more than anything.

  “You don’t have an answer. I didn’t think so.”

  “So, what? We just leave this place?”

  “This place was never permanent, Will. Don’t kid yourself. I mean, it’s been ideal for a year. But we always knew it wouldn’t last forever. Nowhere lasts forever, especially not in a world like this.”

  Kesha stood up. She walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

  “You need to face up to your fears. Get outside and get out of your little bubble before it swallows you whole. Because the world’s changed out there. And the later you are to adapt to it… well, the less chance Olivia has of having a dad here to look out for her.”

  Bouncer sighed, and wriggled around at my feet, capturing my mood. He wasn’t all that keen on getting out of this place either.

  “You have to at least try to adapt,” Kesha said. “Just… just take a walk. A few steps outside. That’s all. You can do that. Right?”

  I looked into her eyes and honestly, I didn’t know the answer.

  But I sighed and nodded anyway. “Right.”

  Kesha smiled. “Good. Because the world’s getting scarier out there. And you’re gonna have to be ready. We all are.”

  Ready for what, I wondered?

  Ready for what?

  As I stood and walked out of Kesha’s room, that thought replayed around my mind.

  The thought of being prepared. Just in case.

  The thought of having to move on.

  Ready for what? I thought, as I reached the door to this cell block and stepped outside into the fresh autumn air.

  I took a deep breath of it. Let it fill my lungs. I listened to the birds, and the fallen leaves brushing against the ground in the wind. I heard the noises from the animals. The chickens clucking. The cows mooing. I heard conversation. Normality.

  Ready for what?

  “Come on, boy,” I said, as I walked Bouncer down the slope outside the cell block.

  If only I had the smallest idea of the horrors I had to be ready for…

  Chapter Five

  Danny pulled the meat away from the bone with his teeth and enjoyed the juicy flavours as they swilled around his mouth.

  The night s
ky was thick all around him and his people. He liked that. It was peaceful. Besides, since the world had collapsed, Danny felt like he could see in the dark. He was a hunter now. And being a hunter had a funny way of making you feel invincible like that.

  It was getting colder, but that didn’t bother Danny either. He’d survived last winter in conditions that were a damned sight worse. He’d been so hungry. He remembered the long days, his stomach churning, eating itself, wondering whether he was going to find a meal before sundown. And he never did. Never.

  So eventually, nature just kind of took care of matters itself.

  Nature did the dirty work. The real dirty work.

  Ever since he’d started following nature’s intuition rather than his own, Danny was doing a damned sight better, thank you very much.

  He looked around at the embers from the fire that had burned not long ago. The air still smelled of smoke. A few hundred metres to his right, amidst the peaceful silence, he could hear whimpers. They still bothered him, the whimpers of his prisoners. He still had crises of guilt, days where he wondered if what he was doing was evil.

  But then he reminded himself of the hunger he’d felt. He reminded himself of what life would be like if he didn’t have access to the easiest prey of them all.

  Humans might be intelligent.

  But sometimes that intelligence worked against them.

  That’s what made them prime game.

  He glanced back at the embers and distanced himself from the cries inside the old, barricaded garage. It wasn’t the ideal prison. Sometimes, people slipped away.

  But when they did slip away, Danny and his group went into hunting mode.

  And when they went into hunting mode, they were usually very good at finding their escapees all over again.

  And escapees got the worst treatment of everyone.

  A punishment. A scolding.

  He saw the burning embers and he remembered what it felt like to be burned. The house fire he was in when he was only thirteen. His dad was involved in some dodgy business. Gangland stuff. But he’d gone straight, convinced Mum that they were safe staying in the city he’d once run the streets of.